This is the first story I've ever published on here so all reviews and constructive criticism are very welcome. This was just a quick side-story that came to mind during a playthrough.
Benediction
The Chantry was almost silent as Anders entered; the creak of the huge oak doors made him wince as it echoed through the chamber.
This place always made him nervous with it's eerie quiet and strange incense not to mention what he'd already seen in his own history with the place. The Kirkwall architecture didn't exactly help either. With its tortured bronze statues and jagged spikes it wasn't the friendliest looking city in Thedas.
There was no one else visible as he climbed the stairs to his left and knelt at a pew. He brought his hands in front of him and hushed tones he prayed.
"Maker, I may not have been your most loyal or devoted son but I am a believer. Now, more than ever, I need your strength and guidance to help me to do what is right. I don't mean to be selfish and I know that I will be forever damned for what I am about to do but it if is truly wrong then show me a sign. What magi have suffered at the hands of those that claim to do your will is great and the time has come to make a change."
He clasped his hands tightly until his knuckles turned white.
"Andraste, show me the way and I will follow. Guide me. Please."
He sat silently looking up at the giant statue of Andraste for what seemed like hours, willing some kind of divine intervention but there was nothing but stillness and silence.
He stood slowly and made his way back towards the steps; just as he was about to step down a voice spoke behind him.
"What troubles you, child?"
He turned suddenly, nearly stumbling backwards down the stairs. Grand Cleric Elthina stood at the pulpit and motioned him closer, his feet obeyed before the rest of him had a chance to object.
"I remember, you were here before with the Champion. Your soul has still not found rest. Have you come to ask Andraste for guidance?"
Anders stared at his feet and nodded.
"What troubles you?"
He reluctantly dragged his gaze from the carpet to the Grand Cleric's face.
"I have a choice to make and I need to be certain that I take the right path."
She drew closer and touched her hand to his face making him gasp.
"I think you have made your choice but you fear the consequences."
Her eyes seemed to bore into his soul and for an instant he feared she could see his intent. She touched his forehead.
"May Andraste guide you towards your true purpose, sometimes the right choice may not always be clear until the deed is done, have faith. Remember that even without the actions of Maferath, there would be no Chantry."
He stepped backwards.
"I'm sorry." He whispered then turned, hurried down the steps and ran from the Chantry, the heavy door banged closed behind him.
The Grand Cleric stood alone.
"You are forgiven."
She looked up at Andraste's image and smiled sadly to herself.
She could feel the change in the wind around Kirkwall. There was something on the verge of happening and her heart told her that that young man would be the vanguard of that change.
The End
