A menacing wind howls as it travels over the sculpted mountains of the Frostback. Strong immovable pine trees quake under the weight of the snow piled over them. Under the blinding light of the morning sun, the Temple of Sacred Ashes stands proudly, surrounded by hundreds of clerics, decked in the traditional red and white colors of the Andrastian Chantry. Their horsemen and guards are standing by, crowding the courtyard outside of the temple.
The anxious buzzing of voices is unmistakable even several miles away from the conclave. Even now, more and more people are making the trek through the mountains towards the temple, as organized lines of templar knights and even some mages are gathering to meet with Divine Justinia.
With all the excitement around, it's not surprising that two Dalish women have managed to remain undetected on the premises of the temple. The two elves are standing in the shadows of a statue of Andraste's champion, Shartan, so they aren't exactly being subtle. Perhaps it's a testament to how oblivious humans are, that even when they see two Dalish elves, faces painted in vallaslin, wearing traditional Dalish armor, they will still assume they are looking at servants.
The taller of the two elves is all but bouncing in glee at the thought of being so close to such an ancient temple. Every stone is steeped in history, and even as her fingers brush over the enduring bricks of the walls, she feels as though she's touching hands with Andraste herself.
The second elf is less amused, her eyes darting around at the outpouring of shemlen. It's not exactly the most comfortable atmosphere, considering the fact that the mages and templars are still at war, and their Divine thought it would be a great idea to bring the two most volatile groups in southern Thedas to the same place at the same time to "talk". She can only imagine how that will go, which is why she couldn't let her younger mage sister spy on the conclave alone.
"Eiry, I think this place has another entrance. Do you wanna check out the inside before it's full of shems?" the tall one suggests, an excited grin on her face.
Eiry, or rather Eirwa, sighs and tears her wary eyes away from the bustling crowd. Her brow is tight as she addresses her sister. "That sounds dangerous, Rey. If the shems catch us in there… you're a mage ! You know what those brainwashed Chantry brutes do to mages."
"Oh, please, Eiry! Please! I promise just a quick look and we're out!" Rey, or rather Areina, begs, her violet eyes widening like an eager child's.
Trying to maintain an illusion of authority as she speaks, Eirwa replies, "Show me this side entrance first. Then I'll decide if it's dangerous or not. You're the First now, Rey, and you need to take care of yourself."
Areina all but leaps at her older sister, pulling her into a tight embrace and burying her face in her tight brown curls, taking in Eirwa's scent, fragrant vanilla oil, pine, and dirt. "I know! And thank you!"
"Hey! I didn't say I agreed yet!" Eirwa says, wrapping her arms weakly around Areina.
Areina leads her along the western wall of the temple, her fingers passing idly over the bricks almost like she can't bear to break contact with the building. Her feet silently leave marks in the snow behind her as she approaches a part of the temple wall that had collapsed to form a tunnel.
"How did you even find out about this?" Eirwa asks. She observes the structure suspiciously and then looks around the area. "Why aren't there any shems around here?"
"I don't know, but this hole was practically made for snooping," Areina remarks.
Eirwa frowns. "You're right. It does look like it was made for snooping."
"What's wrong?" Areina's expression drops when she sees the look on Eirwa's face.
"I don't trust it," she says. "Someone made this on purpose."
"On purpose?"
"Creators! Are you that oblivious? I'm saying that with high-profile gathering of important shemlen in the middle of a civil war, do you really think someone is going to pass up the opportunity to do something stupid?"
And of course, this doesn't occur to young Areina, whose head has been in the clouds from the moment she was born. Eirwa can feel her blood pressure rising as she stares her sister down. "I am not letting you go in there. We need to leave this place. Now ."
"Eiry, there are templars everywhere! And I bet there are some inside the temple, too. It'll be fine! Just a quick look and then we're out." Areina's tone gets more desperate and she pouts her lips to garner sympathy from the tight-lipped Eirwa.
"No. Just three years ago, a mage blew up the Kirkwall Chantry to kill the grand cleric. I don't want to be here if that happens again." Eirwa reaches for her sister's arm, but Areina flinches away.
"Did you hear that?" Areina jerks her head around and moves towards the hole in the wall. "It sounds like someone's in trouble."
With an exasperated groan, Eirwa says, "It sounds like our cue to leave and let these shems kill each other. We saw what we needed to see. Now, come on!" Nevertheless, she also approaches the hole, gazing into the dark tunnel ahead. It appears as though it goes on and on without an end, though it must at some point lead into the temple itself.
This time, Eirwa can actually hear the sound that had snatched Areina's attention. It's shrill and carries with it a dark desperation that echoes softly against the tunnel walls. It pulls at a sense of justice within them, beckoning them to trek further in.
"Someone! Help me!"
Grimy darkness fills Areina's vision as she comes to in the middle of what looks to be a small dungeon. The floor is damp and cold against her bottom, making her stomach turn uncomfortably. Voices echo around, some right at her ear and some further away.
"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now."
She feels a tightness in the flesh of her left palm and glances down, slowly uncurling her fingers and revealing a scar that runs along the crease that bisects her palm. As though it were sensing her gaze, the scar flares with emerald lights like magic, bringing a sharp, punishing pain with it. It feels as though someone had thrust a sword through her open palm.
"The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead." The woman speaking to Areina is a heavily armored human with her dark hair braided into a crown upon her head. Her voice is calm, like water boiling under a low heat, but her eyes are bubbling with hot rage. "Except for you."
Areina's mind is a fog, her memory so scrambled that she can scarcely even remember her and Eirwa's long journey through the mountains. She doesn't even know if she's still in the mountains, and she certainly doesn't know why she's in handcuffs surrounded by angry humans. All she knows is that wherever Keeper Deshanna is, she's not happy with her.
This is a fanfic I already started on AO3, and I've decided to upload it here as well :)