DISCLAIMER: As we all know BioWare owns everything from Dragon Age that you recognize: names, objects, characters, etc. Anything that you don't is a figemtn of my imagination. No copyrights infringements intended, this is only my way of showing my looove for BioWare and the amazing game.

A.N: This chapter has actually been ready for two weeks, but I've had a little difficulty getting it proof read, so now I've done my very best and I hope you will forgive me for any grammatical errors and typos.

Thank you to all of you who have read, reviewed, added to favs, added me and subscribed.

Hope you enjoy and till next time (I have actually chapter 10-12 ready, just need a beta for it, anyone feel obliged?)!

~Elmjuniper

THE THRONE

THE OPULENT GRAND HALL BASKED in an impenetrable darkness and the eerie voices from an ancient magic rose like thin, blue-coloured wisps from the small cracks which ran along the soot covered floor. Black skeleton-like chandeliers hung like ominous, dark clouds from the ceiling adding to the hall's foreboding feeling. The air was musty and had dwelled in the cavernous hall along side the magic for centuries, untouched by the hand of man, its sinister presence echoing between the naked walls. The magic which resided in the long forgotten grand hall rose and fell in waves, a constant dull pulsating, slithering like snakes across the floor and tainted the whole hall with its presence. The magic had been left there to grow into something powerful. It was not the simple magic it once was, it had had time to become a thinking entity, a living thing, and now it roamed the locked grand hall biding its time until someone released it.

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The companions were all trying to decide what to think of her. Sinniralin could see it on their faces, how their eyes searched her for whatever sign they needed in order to feel comfortable around her, the probing questions some of them asked her and the gossip they shared around the campfire, all the while keeping the fact that she was a deadly guilder in the back of their minds. They were all suspicious of her and as to what her intentions were. The templar, Alistair, was the one who regarded her with most suspicion. This – she had learnt, was due to Loghain's betrayal at the battle which had taken place at Ostagar. Apparently it had cost someone who stood the templar close his life. Sinniralin couldn't say she blamed him, but still found him a bit too endearing around the others for her taste and she had seen the way he and Deanna interacted with each other. She smirked a little. Had it been a year ago she would have seethed with jealousy, but it wasn't so she simply made a mental note to try and play nicely with him. Then there was the odd bard whom she couldn't make out what she was all about no matter how she tried. It was challengingly and enticing, to meet someone she couldn't read. It had never happened before and she found that she relished in the adrenaline it gave her trying to figure the bard out, trying to nudge her just in the right direction without using her magic. Then there was the fact that the bard had a most strange effect on her. Though was it really the bard or was it the amulet that caused her to fall to her knees in pain?

Sinniralin frowned. Such a simple thing did not use to have that sort of effect on her which could only mean two things: either the bard was so remarkably holy that along with that charm her presence angered the… demonic essence brewing inside of her. Or… it had become more powerful and therefore the battle to keep it latent would become even more difficult than what it already was.

On the contrary to what people believed the Maker did in fact exist, but he was not alone. As legends go there is never good without evil, never peace without battle. The Maker was no exception to this. The follower of the Chant denied that belief in a twin Creator, the maker of old gods that the Tevinters worshipped. Sin snorted. The Chantry was full of fools! She had seen the war raging between the Maker and the Creator. She had been born into it. Thinking back to the day in the tower there was a vague memory she chose to push away, chose not to think of.

Lesdra held her tight twisting the sharp blade around in her back drawing a painful shriek from her lips. Her eyes swam with tears from the pain as she gasped wildly for air, the poisoned tip of the short sword sticking out from her chest.

"Embrace your fate Sin." Her sister hissed before thrusting the short sword deeper into her back piercing both Sin and herself.

Her head spun as she nearly fainted from the pain when she felt the change. As their blood mixed the faint heat that had been her magic exploded inside of her, rippling through her body, penetrating her every muscle and sinew, ripping and tearing at it. Her arms which had hung heavily on her sides flew up to Lesdra's shoulders as the voices began to sing in her head.

"NO!" She screamed as her sister laughed a frightening, crazed laughter.

"Good bye sister."

The words echoed in her head as she turned her attention back to keeping watch. She scanned the area ahead of her, her mind drifting off subconsciously again. She was not just the result of two lover's passionate lovemaking. She shook her head ruefully. She was the prophesized creation of a demon and a demi-god. Lesdra had made that clear that day in the tower, that what she feared the most was true. She was not just an apostate and her mother was not just her mother. Their whole fate was intertwined with the Creator of old gods, the Maker and the ongoing battle between the two sides. Before that day she had been certain that whatever she and her sister was she still had the freedom to choose her own path, but now… she was not so certain anymore. She wasn't so sure she could change the fate Lesdra spoke of. The demonic essence lurking within her had grown stronger and it fought more fiercely to overtake her. It wasn't that the Chantry actually caused her the pain she felt whenever she was near it. It was she herself who caused it by fighting the darkness inside. Would she just let it overtake her and destroy the Chantry it would be pain-free, but she would not let it so instead it clawed, and pulled at her insides, tearing at her, fighting to break free. She growled in frustration. Being the dark Creator personal rogue, was that the sole purpose for her existence? She had not yet discovered what the prophecy told and it unnerved her.

"This is shemshit…" She muttered, silently cursing her mother before feeling a little guilty as she found herself wondering slightly what had happened to her mother, was she still alive? Her mother might have descended completely into madness that day many years ago, but Sinniralin still loved her. The thing she had become was not her mother. Her mother might have been O'leohat to the rest of Thedas, might have been the one who brought the great Andraste to her knees, but to Sin she had been just mamae.

Sighing she smiled tiredly to herself patting Ceridwen gently on the head where she stood hiding in the shadows, her shadowcloak pulled tightly around her, senses alert, as her eyes landed on a small group moving through the darkness right outside their perimeter. She narrowed her eyes observing them. Two large quanari men and six human mages rummaged through the forest. Mercenaries. She let her fingers slip across the cold leather-wrapped hilts of her daggers as she watched their progress. They seemed to be scouting the area for something in particular and she had a sneaky suspicion that the Grey Wardens might be that particular something. She kneeled by the large mabari hound as she pulled out her small vials.

"Off you go." She murmured scratching her behind her large furry ear as she bit off the cap of a blue shimmering vial. The hound whined in response.

"No, no. I'll be fine plus Little Thug will be looking after me." She cooed nudging the dog towards the camp before spinning on her heels.

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She does not know how she ended up here in this cold place. At first she fumbles around in the dark with her hands trying to understand where she is. Squinting in the dark she can make out the far and of this large room. It was a room wasn't it? As her eyes grew adjusted to the darkness she could see she was crawling on tiled marbled floor covered in soot. Where did the soot come from?

Something is moving in this strange place and she cannot seem to understand what it is. She places her ear against the cold floor listening. It swirls, grates against the marble floor in a moaning echo. She should get out of here. There is something dark and sinister in this place and whatever this place is she is not supposed to be here. It frightens her and she starts crawling faster in a desperate attempt to find the door, fear creeping up her spine, slowly pushing her towards the edge of panic. Her hands brush against something on the floor. It's cold and rugged, covered in some sort of fabric which seems to have decayed over the years. Exploring it with her right hand she feels the familiar shape of a human skull and screams.

Death. Death is what resides here.

Death and wickedness.

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.

Deanna sat silent by the campfire drawing circles in the dirt. Loved. Sin had said that she loved her not that she still did. As she let her index finger run across the brown, dried up ground she wondered how that really made her feel. She had thought she was completely over the elven rogue by now, but seeing Sin again made her feel… something. It made her start to think again, to mull over the 'what ifs'. What if she'd just said no to her father's arrangement to begin with? What if she'd gone to see Sin earlier? What if she had done things this way, or maybe that way? What if! She picked up some dried mud from the ground and threw it at her drawn circles in frustration, pouting slightly.

She was being stupid about it, she knew, but she didn't care. Most of all she wanted to clench her fists and stomp her foot demanding that the elf answered the question for her. She however knew it probably wasn't befitting a grey warden.

"I hate this." She muttered before looking up to see the mabari come rushing into the camp. "Come here girl." She motioned with her hands.

Ceridwen whined pacing off towards the edge of the camp before stopping, giving Deanna an anxious look. Deanna knew that look. She had seen it only months ago the same day she lost her family.

"What's wrong?" She asked attentively.

The hound growled taking another step towards the dark forest just to turn around and look at her once again. Deanna heard the sound of wings flapping and saw the giant Harpia take off into the sky, a shrill shriek echoing from its beak.

The group of companions stared at the bird then at the hound, rising to their feet as the warden drew her sword.

"Where's Sin?" She asked suspiciously. She had barely finished the question before there was a loud explosion coming from the dusky forest causing them all to jump in surprise.

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.

Sin slid between the legs of the huge quanari warrior pushing her magic at him. He spun his big, bulky frame, roaring as the spell hit him, staggering slightly clutching his arm as if stung by something. Sliding to a stop she kicked her legs up in the air using the sheer strength of her back to flip herself into a standing position again. She watched the quanari as he advanced her, the other quanari rushing towards her, the mages firing off their spells at her. She dismissed the spells with a simple wave of her hand. They were nothing more than a nuisance to her and she scoffed as she jumped and flipped, dodging the spells whizzing through the cool night air. Casting a glance at the first quanari she saw the familiar bulge of his dark skin. Spinning on her heels she darted towards the second quanari approaching her.

He struck out with his mace, but she flipped to the side, kicking with her foot at his knees. His heavy armour clanked from the impact, but he merely stopped. She sneered. Never mind, the first quanari was close enough to take the other one with him when… BLAM! She ducked in behind a large boulder covered in moss as the quanari exploded, flesh and blood spraying everywhere. She giggled where she sat as she craned her neck seeing the second quanari's head rip off from his shoulder, slinging high into the air.

"The Spewer!" One of the mages cried out in his heavy Tevinter accent.

Sinniralin felt her blood freeze when she heard it and she snarled angrily getting back on her feet. Rounding the large boulder she found herself face to face with the large spewer, a large monstrous creature, the magical creation of the crazy Tevinters. It was enormous, reminding Sin of a large, overgrown infant with a grown man's dead face. Its belly bilged in an unnatural manner and it made guttural, gurgling noises, black poison dripping from its fat, over-sized lips. It saw her and threw its large head backwards before it opened its mouth spraying poison everywhere. The poison wouldn't kill its target, but blind it for a considerable amount of time. She plunged to the side, rolling on to her feet unsheathing her daggers.

She was hurtling towards the Spewer who wobbled towards her in a twitching manner when the sudden pain shot out at her, paralyzing her and she crumbled to the ground. What was happening to her? Shaking her clogged head she saw the bard standing in front of her, firing her arrows at the Spewer. Leliana? What was she doing here? The elf tried to clear her head when she detected a vague familiar sound. Looking to the bard's right side she saw one of the mages concentrate on a spell, raising his hands high above his head casting the spell. The deadly spell flew soundlessly through the air towards its target. To a mere mortal its speed would have been too fast to discover, but Sin could see the spell streak lazily across the ground.

Willing herself to push the darkness away, fighting it with every ounce of her strength she possessed she flared all the lyrium she had left in her body pushing to her feet. She lunged herself at Leliana pulling the redheaded bard to the ground with her. The spell sizzled as it burnt her across the back of her ear and cheek. Leliana yelped in surprise as they landed on the soft ground – a tangled mess of arms and legs. The pain was unbearable as they lay tightly pressed together. Sinniralin made one last effort to get as far away from the bard as possible, her body screaming in agony. Little Thug came swooping down, grabbing her by the back of her cloak, dragging her away from the bard before taking off again. She rolled to a stop heaving heavily.

The bard was back on her feet pulling one of her deadly arrows from her quiver firing it at the mage. They cut through the air with a sharp sound, slinging themselves into the mage's chest with such force he fell backwards with a surprised yelp escaping his mouth. Leliana turned to Sin who was gesticulating wildly with her arms.

"Just help the others!" She shouted to the bard who nodded resolutely in response averting her sprint to the opposite direction, joining the others in their fight to bring the Spewer down. If only the others hadn't come to aid her she could have taken out this small group of maleficars on her own.

"Watch out!" Someone called out only moments before a spell was fired off at her.

"This is annoying…" She growled using her hand to block it, pulling up a vial containing a silver-coloured liquid with the other.

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.

The bard saw the guilder down the content of a vial then everything seemed slow down. The bard felt as if time bent in a strange way, almost as if it stretched her mind, clogging it, making her feel drunk. She saw her own movements moving excruciatingly slow whereas the elf bounced from target to target her arms and legs spinning and pushing at the enemy who fell lifeless to the ground. The elf's cloak imploded soundlessly and Sin appeared on the other side of the clearing, speeding right in to the battle from another angle. She leapt into the air and for a spilt second she seemed to hover there before spinning with such speed the bard's eyes barely caught the movement, slashing her blades at the remaining combatants and the Spewer. Their dead bodies crumbled to the ground, lifeless eyes staring at the bard.

Leliana felt a shiver run through her spine. Behind the elf there seemed to be a massive, ominous shadow mimicking her every movement. This dark shadow seemed to turn towards the bard, reaching for her. Terror shot through her body as she took a frightened step backwards. Sinniralin turned around facing her as she grabbed the shadow pulling it towards herself, then before the bard could see what happened time snapped with a popping sound and the small clearing lay silent, the mercenaries' corpses and the huge bulk of the spewer's corpse scattered all around the elf's feet.

"Well that was fun." She said winking at the dirt covered faces of the small group flashing her white teeth.

"You're… is she insane?" Alistair asked incredulously, his shield and sword hanging heavily in his hands.

"Do you even have to ask?" Deanna shook her head cocking her eyebrow at him.

The witch circled the elf predatorily. "You're an apostate enchanter!"

"I most certainly am not." Sin frowned.

"Then what are you?" The witch insisted before adding. "And don't you dare lie to me."

Leliana shuddered. What really was the elf standing in front of her?

"Probably the best you'll ever have should you choose to go down that path." Sin answered cheekily.

Morrigan laughed in amusement or was that a giggle? Leliana frowned. Looking at the elf she seemed to be the charming seductress, no sign of the dark shadow. Sin caught the bard staring at her and tilted her head before turning towards their leader saying something. Had anyone else but the bard seen the shadow? Leliana glanced around at the members who looked as if it was just another battle finished. Looking back at he seductress she thought she saw something dark loom next to her, but it vanished before she had the time to decide if it was real or just her eyes playing tricks on her.

.

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"What is that?" Alistair whispered to the bard, his face screwed up in disgust where he sat by the campfire watching the elf push a big ball of green slimy goo into her mouth using two sticks she found on the ground.

"I... I am not sure..." Leliana answered. Her brows knit together as she tried to think of what it could be. The elf – Sin, had been travelling with them for a couple of days now and still she hadn't said many words to her. Leliana huffed. Sin would talk to everyone, but as soon as she walked up towards the charismatic elf she would excuse herself quickly and walk away.

"It's seaweed." Sin said, smiling when she turned her face towards them, dipping the sticks into her bowl of hot water and seaweed.

"Oh, yes of course..." Alistair said blushing slightly at being overheard by the elf.

Leliana chuckled. "That is... disgusting." Much to her surprise the elf giggled as she chewed her seaweed.

"They do remind me of slugs... but it beats eating children." She winked at the bard who made a gagging noise. "Oh come now, it's not like Orlais is known for its wonderful cooking."

"Yes it is. Orlais has the most wonderful dishes, they are tasteful, spicy and..."

"Hey... don't hate until you've tried it." Sin said, pouting slightly causing the bard to smile despite herself.

"Well, you shouldn't say thing like that without offering." Alistair said grinning as he saw the horrified look upon the bard's face that shook her head 'no' vigorously.

Something wicked and playful shone in the elf's icy-blue eyes. "I'm starting to think you're not as nice as everyone thinks Allycat." She winked at the templar who frowned at the nickname, handing him the bowl. "Pass it over to the lady."

"But I-I..." Leliana tried to slither.

"Oh no my dear lady, there is no speaking ill of my seaweed without trying it." Sin said grinning widely. Alistair grinned from ear to ear as well as the bard took the bowl into her hands staring at it as if it might launch itself at her any given moment.

"Ugh..." She muttered as she grabbed the sticks and fished about for some green goo.

"You really must take a whole ball of it otherwise it won't taste of anything." Sin instructed her.

"But I can't. These sticks are... useless." Leliana muttered as she whisked around the wooden bowl.

"Here, let me show you." Sin walked over to the bard without thinking to grab the bowl when the pain shot through her sending her stumbling backwards. "Ugh!" She grabbed her head and shook it as the pain wore off.

"Are you alright?" Leliana asked standing up.

"Yes, yes." Sin waved her hands dismissively. "I just have a bad case of... migraine. "

Leliana frowned where she stood holding the bowl in her hands. The elf seemed to be doing a lot of jumping, and stumbling whenever she was near her. She tilted her head slightly as she took a step closer to the elf who almost immediately responded by taking another step backwards. Interesting. She thought to herself as she looked the elf in the eyes challenging her taking yet another step towards her watching the elf's reaction.

This time the elf stood still watching her intently with her winter's breath coloured eyes. The bard took another daring step towards the elf studying her while doing so. She could tell by Sin's expression that she knew what she was doing. When she was close enough Sin's eyes flickered before she clenched her jaws staring angrily at her.

"What are you playing at Orlesian." She snarled in an angry hiss that almost frightened the bard.

"I... Nothing." She said holding up the bowl to the elf who simply shook her head and spun on her heels before ducking into her tent.

"You do seem to have a remarkable way of making new friends." The templar chuckled jokingly from the other side of the campfire.

"You should see when I make an enemy then." The bard muttered before shoving a ball of sea weed into her mouth with the sticks chewing on it thoughtfully.

"Hey! I thought you didn't know how to..." The templar exclaimed in surprise.

"Let's just suffice to say that I have many skills." The bard answered flatly. Staring at the tent Sin shared with their leader. "And I will find out what you really are."

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Back paddling away from the dried up, half decayed corpse she feels her back smash against something. What was that? She turns around using her hands to help decide what it is, letting her small hands run across the cold, smooth surface. Squinting her eyes she can barely make out what the thing is in the darkness. The throne is as grand as the hall and as she stands up leaning against the wide armrest its height looms above her like a bad omen. The surface of the armrest has carvings on it, but she cannot decipher them. Was this throne made by dwarven hands? As she lets her hand slip across it something comes to life, swirling angrily. A shriek escapes her dry lips as a cold hand shoots out of nowhere and grabs her wrist, a face coming up close to hers, sinister eyes staring into hers.

"What goes there?"

TO BE CONTINUED...