FIRST CHAPTER EDITED AS OF 13/3/19

I was very hesitant to post this. But you know what, I've been editing and re-editing it for over a week and I'm happy with the result.

~0o.o0~

Groaning, Amara moved her arms to stretch, dazedly wondering why metal bit her skin. This is new. She opened her eyes, blinking to adjust to the light. Oh, swords. Lovely. Bloody hell, what did I do last night? And - did my hand just flash green?

A door slammed opened, two women storming in. A bard and Knight, Amara guessed. The Bard hid her face beneath a hood, and from her position Amara could only make out a sliver of red hair.

The Knight spoke. "Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now. The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead, except for you."

Amara remained silent, eyeing the woman. She reminds me of someone...

"Explain this!" The Knight grabbed her manacles, hauling her up.

Amara hissed as the mark flashed again, forcing the words out. "I… can't."

The woman let her go, glaring at her. "What do you mean, you can't?"

"I don't know what that is or how it got there." Or how I got here. Why can't I remember? This isn't good. Someone's tampered with my memory again...

"You're lying!"

The Knight moved forward, only to be stopped by the Bard who finally spoke. "We need her, Cassandra."

"I don't understand," Amara said, genuinely confused.

The Bard crossed her arms. "Do you remember what happened? How this began?"

"I remember running. Things were chasing me. And then… a woman?" There's a gap in my memory... Well, another gap. She narrowed her eyes, trying to remember. It only left her mind blank.

"A woman?"

Amara nodded, distracted. "She reached out to me, but then…"

Cassandra interrupted her. "Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift."

Leliana nodded, turning on her heel and leaving.

Amara looked to Cassandra. The woman was fierce looking. Nice hairstyle too. "What did happen?"

Cassandra pulled Amara to her feet, replacing the manacles with rope. "It will be easier to show you."

Once outside, Amara looked up to see... Seriously? Again? I decide to live with a clan for five years and this happens? I'm having some serious words with the others when I find them.

Cassandra spoke. "We call it the Breach. It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It's not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave."

"An explosion can do that?" Amara felt stupid for asking. Of course an explosion can. Or maybe Calida did it. She does love explosions... Though, I can't think of any reason why she would travel all the way here to do that.

Cassandra nodded. "This one did. Unless we act, the breach may grow until it swallows the world."

The Breach pulsed, Amara falling to the ground in pain as the mark flared. The magic radiating off the mark felt familiar. It seemed to be both welcoming yet rejecting her magic, causing a nerve-tingling loop where they touched.

Cassandra kneeled in front of her. "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time."

Ryder will have a heart attack once he finds out. "I understand."

Cassandra stared at her, hopeful. "Then...?"

"I'll do what I can, whatever it takes."

Cassandra helped Amara to her feet, leading her through the town. The villagers scowled at them as Cassandra began talking. "They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and templars. She brought their leaders together. Now, they are dead."

The other creators and I are going to have a very long talk.

~0o.o0~

"Quickly, before more come through!"

A hand grabbed Amara's wrist, holding the mark up to the rift. Something tugged at her hand and snapped, the Rift closing.

Amara turned to the bald elf, and for a moment she felt her heart clench, but she was unsure why. Maybe because he looks like Fen'ghilanas? "What did you do?" And who are you?

The elf looked smug. "I did nothing. The credit is yours."

Amara looked to the mark. "At least this is good for something."

"Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorised the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake — and it seems I was correct."

"Meaning it could also close the Breach itself," Cassandra said.

"Possibly." The elf looked to Amara, eyes alight with curiosity. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation."

Heh. You have no clue.

"Good to know! Here I thought we'd be ass-deep in demons forever." A dwarf approached them, introducing himself. "Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong." Varric winked at Cassandra, who scowled in response.

Amara tilted her head forward, forcing a smile on her lips. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Varric." She remembered Hermia excitedly telling her about the dwarf. 'Varric helped the Champion of Kirkwall. Oh, and his books! You must read them'. Amara had read a few — they were good.

The elf stepped next to her. "You may reconsider that stance, in time."

"Aww," Varric grinned. "I'm sure we'll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles."

Cassandra scowled. Is scowling her normal expression? "Absolutely not. Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…"

"Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker?" Varric interrupted, stepping closer. "Your soldiers aren't in control anymore. You need me." A smug grin stretched across his features. Amara liked the dwarf already.

Cassandra made a disgusted noise in response.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I'm pleased to see you still live." The elf, Solas, smiled at her.

"You two are too prideful!"

"We should call our next son Solas then."

Could he...? Amara mentally shook herself. Don't be foolish, Amara. You are jumping to conclusions too quickly. There are quite a few elves named Solas; the name merely triggered that memory again. It comes up every once in a while. Plus, it doesn't mean I named my second son that. I had two sons, right? Or three... Fenedhis, I am too old for this.

Varric interrupted her thoughts. "He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'"

Amara jumped onto the subject, not wanting to think further on the recurring memory. "You seem to know a great deal about it all."

"Like you, Solas is an apostate," Cassandra said.

"Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra," Solas replied. "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed, regardless of origin."

"And what will you do once this is all over?" Amara asked, curious.

"One hopes that those in power will remember who helped, and who did not." He looked to Cassandra. "Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have ever seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power."

I know five people, including myself, who do have that power. Hermia would never do something like that. Calida... Maybe; but she always consults me. Valdus might, given that he's been very moody and distant. Though, I wouldn't be too surprised if Fen'ghilanas is behind this. Considering I have another memory gap, previous experience point to him.

Cassandra nodded. "Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly." With that, she started down the hill.

Varric grinned at Amara. "Well, Bianca's excited!"

After taking down a few more Demons, Solas spoke. "You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here?"

"What do you know of the Dalish?" Amara asked, looking to him as she sheathed her daggers. Personally, Amara never considered herself Dalish- the only reason she joined them was because they were still her people. And with Fen'ghilanas gone, someone needed to watch over them. Which meant she had to make her appearance more Elven, being only born half. And the vallas'lin — argh, it had been hard to do at the time. Amara went with the markings of Mythal, to honour her daughter-in-law.

After a year, Amara had revealed everything to clan Lavellan and showed them that she was telling the truth. Since then, some had asked for their vallas'lin to be removed, while others kept theirs. 'We will make a new meaning for these markings', they had said. Amara respected that. And after so long of having her own, Amara had grown quite attached to her own golden vallas'lin.

"I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion."

Amara snorted. "Let me guess, they attacked you due to superstition. Unfortunately, some Dalish do not like the idea that an elf with no clan has better knowledge then them."

"You say that as if you know from experience."

"I've been with clan Lavellan for five years. Before that... Well, let's just say a lot of Dalish tried to kill me as soon as opened my mouth about ancient history." She shivered, and not from the cold. "You learn pretty quickly to be careful."

"Can't you elves just play nice for once?" Varric asked.

Amara gave him a wolfish grin. "Only when we can all collectively agree on a few key things in Elven history."

~0o.o0~

After helping the Scouts, they finally reached the Temple of Sacred Ashes. They walked down, a voice speaking. "Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice."

He sounds familiar, Amara thought.

"What are we hearing?" Cassandra asked.

Solas answered her. "At a guess: The person who created the Breach."

Amara noticed some red lyrium growing out of the ground on the right side of the path. Varric spoke up. "You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker."

Cassandra sighed. "I see it, Varric."

"But what it's doing here?"

"Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it…" Solas mused.

Varric shook his head. "It's evil. Whatever you do, don't touch it."

"Keep the sacrifice still." The familiar voice spoke again. I know him, but from where?

Another voice, more feminine, spoke. "Someone help me!"

"That is Divine Justinia's voice!" Cassandra said.

Jumping down to some stones, they approached the rift. The mark flared again.

"Someone help me!" The voice repeated.

"You dare touch that orb?"

Amara blinked. Cassandra spoke before she could. "That was your voice. Most Holy called out to you. But…"

A white light flashed, ghostly images appearing. A woman, Divine Justinia Amara guessed, floated in place by some red energy wrapped around her arms. A large figure with glowing red eyes loomed over the bound woman. Amara watched as her ghostly self barged in, flames a light in her hands and mouth twisted in a snarl. "You dare touch that orb?"

Justinia looked to her. "Run while you can! Warn them!"

The demon looked to her, pointing. "We have an intruder. Slay the Seneschal."

Another flash of white, and the ghostly images disappeared.

Cassandra rounded on Amara. "You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?"

"I don't remember!" Amara burst out, voice cracking. She barely noticed Cassandra stepping back in surprise. Why can't I remember? That orb must be Elvhen... whoever that demon is, he stole one of the orbs. But whose? And how did he know I am the Seneschal? Who is he?

"Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place," Solas said. "This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily. I believe with the mark, the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side."

Cassandra nodded, grim. "That means demons. Stand ready!"

As soon as the soldiers were ready, Amara opened the Rift, watching as a Pride demon came out.

"Now!" Cassandra yelled, charging, the others following.

Amara spun, daggers slicing into the smaller demons. She sent a shockwave through her palm, knocking back a demon. Magic sparking, her dagger flew in a wide arc, sending a wave of fire at the Pride demon. It roared, charging at her.

The soldiers scattered. Sheathing her daggers, she took out her Archistaff. Please work. Amara breathed deeply, fighting hard to draw magic from the Fade. Three, two, one...

The whirlwind had the demon struggling to move, claws desperately digging into the ground. The next pulse of magic through her archistaff had meteors hitting the demon. It screamed, bones cracking, giving one last twitch of its clawed hand before dying.

Ignoring the looks, Amara turned to the Rift, sealing it. Her magic withered, exhausted from having to fight to draw magic from the Fade. The ground enveloped her as the Rift closed.

~0o.o0~

The Inquisition had been reborn. Amara already knew of it, but as a 'Dalish', she made sure to ask questions. Ryder had arrived a few minutes after — which she was thankful for, as it made explaining the whole Seneschal and orb thing easier. As far as anyone was concerned, Amara had no memory (which is half true) and the magic she used had been pure extinct and had no clue where she learned it, and Ryder knew nothing of it.

After discussing about visiting mother Giselle and deciding to leave tomorrow, Amara left to inform Varric and Solas. Ryder had decided to scout around and help the villagers, but not before teasing her about being distracted by Commander Cullen.

Varric was easy to find, and he greeted her with a smile. "So, now that Cassandra's out of earshot, are you holding up all right? I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful. Most people would have spread that out over more than one day."

Amara sighed. "This... Isn't my first time having to handle so much information at once. It never gets easier." She paused, thinking over her next words carefully. This is where I would show compassion, yes? She kept her voice soft. "I don't even want to think about how many lives were lost on that mountain top."

"A lot of good men and women didn't make it out there," Varric said. "For days now, we've been staring at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. 'Bad for morale' would be an understatement. I still can't believe anyone was in there and lived."

Amara tilted her head. "If it was that bad, why did you stay? Cassandra said you were free to go."

Varric shrugged. "I like to think I'm as selfish and irresponsible as the next guy, but this… Thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them. And now there's a hole in the sky. Even I can't walk away and just leave that to sort itself out."

Amara hummed. "I'm still not sure I believe that any of this is really happening."

"If this is all just the Maker winding us up, I hope there is a damn good punch line coming."

Amara couldn't help but snort. That depends on which Maker you refer to. If the other three are winding us up, then I'm going to give them the scolding of their life. "Oh, we'll be going to the Hinterlands tomorrow. Will you join us?"

"Of course."

"Good. Do you know where Solas is?"

Varric pointed. "Up there."

"Thank you. Farewell." With that, Amara made her way to where Solas was. She took a moment to study his features, a heavy ache grinding down on her chest. She mentally frowned. This is ridiculous. I don't even know this elf.

Solas smiled at her. "The Chosen of Andraste. A blessed hero sent to save us all."

"Am I riding in on a shining steed?" Amara joked. "Or better yet, a Griffon. Maybe a Chimera —actually, no, those things are awful. Is it necessary for a goat head to be able to use magic?" She shook her head, silently cursing herself. This is what I get for not being in an actual village. "Ah, enough about that. We're going to the Hinterlands tomorrow. Will you join us?"

"I will. I am curious, where did you learn such magic? I have never seen it before."

The lie was easy. Keep it simple. "I honestly can't remember."

Seeing that she would not talk further, Solas pressed. "Your magic, has it always been so... fragile?"

Well, since I performed a blood ritual that involved dying and coming back, of course it is. Stupid Veil.

"You mean weak?" Amara asked, blunt. "No. I am still magically powerful, but I can no longer perform spell after spell for long periods of time. Nowadays, I can only send shockwaves, or sparks of fire, ice or lightening, through my palm if my magic is low. It takes at least ten minutes to half an hour to recover just from one spell. Depending on the spell, that is. May we speak of something else, please?"

Solas nodded, doing so. "I've journeyed deep into the Fade, in ancient ruins and battlefields to the dreams of lost civilisations. I watched as hosts of spirits clashed to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten." He looked to her. "Every Great War has its heroes. I'm just curious what kind you'll be."

"Ruins and battlefields?" Amara knew plenty of them, though she was curious to which he knew.

"Any building strong enough to withstand the vigour of time has a history..."

~0o.o0~

Night had fallen. Amara crept out of her cabin, quietly making her way out towards the woods, bow and arrow in hand while her archistaff was strapped to her back. She had heard a few soldiers complaining of meat running low, especially with more people coming in, so she decided to hunt some down.

Four rams were herded together. Amara smiled, kneeling on the snow. She felt better now that she had her armour back. Drawing a deep breath, she aimed-

Snap. Growl.

She forced herself to stay relaxed, ears twitching. The sound was at least two meters to her right. She moved slowly, eyes flicking over the darkness, trying to spot the creature. Her magic thrummed, fingers tingling with restrained magic.

Amara rolled forward, listening to the loud thwump! of the creature landing just where she was. The rams ran. Cursing, Amara spun, aiming her bow-

She groaned in frustration. "Dammit Hermia, don't do that!"

The white and light brown-gold hyena laughed, turning back into the blonde dwarf. "Oh man, I got you so good."

"You scared off the people's food," Amara grumbled, her smile ruining it. "It's good to see you. Not that I don't mind, but why are you here?"

"I — we were worried about you. You didn't show up to our meeting. What's happened?"

"If you help me get some food, I'll tell you everything."

"Deal."

"... Well, shit. What do you plan to do?"

"For now? Do whatever the Inquisition needs me to do." Amara took another swig of the ale. The alcohol will never effect her, but she loved the sweet taste. "I better get these into the stores."

"I'll help you." Hermia huffed at Amara's look. "I can be quiet. Anyway, I'm better at skinning rams then you are, fisherwoman."

Amara scowled, placing a ram on either shoulder, walking to the stores. "Stone fucker."

"Go shove a tree up your ass."

"Dhava 'ma masa (Kiss my ass)."

With the food now properly deposited, they made their way back out. Once out of earshot, Amara said, "I best leave you to your duties. With all this happening, I won't be able to make those meetings."

Hermia clicked her tongue. "Only three attending the meetings now. At least that evens it out."

"It does," Amara agreed. "How's Valdus and Calida?"

"Valdus isn't as moody anymore, but this happens every year when Andraste's death day comes up. Calida is good — she's been living the life of luxury, that's for sure." Hermia paused, answering Amara's unspoken question. "There is still no trace of him."

Amara nodded, unsurprised at the answer. It had been the same answer since the fall of the Elvhenan. Fen'ghilanas had suddenly disappeared, but not before cursing Amara by severing the connection to her children, leaving large gaps in her memory, and taking her ability to see the future. Nothing worked to undo the magic. Now, she had no clue of how to find her youngest son, or Elgar'nan's twin sibling. She knew she had given birth to twins, but anything about the other twin in her memory was gone.

Shaking her head, Amara said, "this mark on my hand, it feels familiar, but I can't place it. Have you any clue?" She held out her marked hand.

Hermia gently held the offered hand, inspecting it with a hum. Finally, she shook her head. "It's Elvhen, and feels like your magic. That's all I can tell. It came from an orb, right? Must have been one of your grandchildren."

"... Still at square one, then," Amara sighed. "When you see Valdus and Calida, send them my way please. Quietly. I need to have some words with them."

"Ooooh, someone's in trouble. I'll see you around." With that, Hermia turned into her raven form and left.

Amara looked at the mark. Which of my grandchildren do you belong to? Maybe some meditating will help. Or visiting my companions. So many choices, too many unknowns. Not knowing the future is a hassle.

Not wanting to go back just yet, Amara set up a few wards around her as she leaned against a tree. The snow felt cool through her clothing; not too cold, thanks to her magic. Sometimes, not being able to properly feel the cold is a curse. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to the Fade, struggling a moment.

Being in the Fade always left her nostalgic. The spirits could not reflect her memories, but that never stopped her from using her magic to do so. The memories taunted her, but she could never stop. It was an eternal ring that only ever burdened her shoulders. A dull ache was always left in her chest when she woke.

Amara walked through The Encampment, taking a moment to admire the place she visited almost any chance she had. Even as Seneschal, she would make a point to visit, watching as Ser Berne instructed his soldiers.

"Shield up!" Ser Berne barked. Though strict and strong, he was loyal and compassionate. Traits Amara admired.

Her jaw clenched, gaze hardening at the onslaught of emotions. Centuries later, and it still left cold daggers slicing her heart to think of him. Of all of them.

The crate creaked as she fell onto it, resting her head on fisted hands. At least here, she could voice her thoughts. "But it was for the greater good, wasn't it? To stop the eternal ring..."

The edges of her domain rippled, alerting her of a new presence. Amara turned to the white wolf. Gold stars, the same colour as her eyes, hovered around her. "Tar'sileal. Where is your companion?"

Suddenly, a raven appeared, swooping down and pecking the wolf. Red stars trailed behind him as he flew to Amara, landing on her shoulder. "Right here. The idiot left me behind! A demon could have gotten me and she wouldn't have known."

"Ter'aju, you killed three demons all by yourself a few moments ago." Tar'sileal trotted over, accepting the scratch behind her ear with an appreciative rumble.

Ter'aju cawed in amusement. "The big bad wolf, showing affection. Cute."

Tar'sileal huffed, ears flattening. "Says the one who constantly needs attention."

Amara laughed softly, using her other hand to gently pat the raven's chest. "There is nothing wrong with wanting affection or attention."

"Something is bothering you, Fen'mae (wolf mother)," Tar'sileal said. To others, it merely sounded like growling, but Amara understood them easily. The only animals she could understand to a point were wolves, ravens and dragons. Both the wolves and ravens understood her too, but only the more intelligent dragons could understand her. And those were few and far between.

She sighed. "I don't know the future anymore, old friend. How do I know I will make the right choices?"

Tar'sileal rested her head on Amara's lap. "Have faith. We will find a way through time and patience. You have done this before, no? You can do it again."

"We do not need access to future events to know our goal." As always, Ter'aju's voice was cold when talking of serious matters. "Our goal is to find and kill the person who took the orb."

Amara hummed, staying silent. Her two companions were an echo of souls that no longer existed. Though it left her heart in a further state of despair, she knew she could not go on without their guidance. "Thank you, my friends. Anything to report?"

"Besides hunting some demons? Nothing," Ter'aju said, adding, "though, the number of demons have increased."

"Hm. Keep an eye on that." Amara paused. "It should be sunrise by now. Go check on the other spirits. Make sure they are safe."

"Understood."

"Trying to get rid of us so quickly? Hmph, fine."

She watched them leave. To most, they would be considered demons; they weren't, of course. They were spirits, but... Evolved. Tar'sileal a spirit of compassion, whilst Ter'aju a spirit of wisdom. Though, Ter'aju's humour and dramatics made it hard to remember that.

Feeling someone entering her domain, Amara looked to her right. "Solas."

"Amara," the bald elf greeted, looking around. "What is this place? I do not recognise it."

Not wanting him to find anything else, she changed the scenery to Haven. "It no longer matters anymore." She stood, walking towards the forest. Her lips twisted into a scowl. "But what does matter is closing that Breach. And the war. Tsk, the mages and Templar's are arguing like children — throwing tantrums because they don't get their way. They condemn what they don't understand!"

"That is true."

"Very much so, parum lupus (little wolf)." She tilted her head, considering him. Wolf indeed. She could feel the magic, reminding her of hunting in the woods at night, of sharpened teeth and howling to the moon. "Many people condemn what they don't understand — how many innocent lives were lost as a result, hm? Not all of them are bad, 'tis true, but those corrupted by power should be forced out. For all we know, both sides could be responsible."

She paused, sighing. Mist floated above her. "Or me. Or the mark. Or whoever that demon was. Too many questions, too many unknowns, and not enough answers..." The snow crunched under her pacing, the wind carrying her cursing to the conflicted elf.

"In the memory, you said, 'you dare touch that orb'," Solas said, sounding careful. "Do you know what the orb is?"

"A pain in the ass," Amara grumbled. Her magic radiated heated annoyance, melting the snow around her. The mark tingled. "I bet this is Fen'ghilanas' fault. Prideful lion never knows when to stop interfering. Ivys esaya gera assan i'isa'av'ingala (he would try to catch an arrow with his teeth)." At this, she paused and sighed. "Aye, but one step forward after the next, come what may. That is what it means to live."

Amara shook her head. "On a more serious note, I honestly can't remember." An utter lie, but I do not trust you enough to tell you everything. "Whoever was behind this has tampered with my memory. Now, why I would love to talk further, I believe it is time to wake up."