Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from the game.
Author's Note: Got this up a bit sooner than anticipated. This chapter can also be titled 'Once Upon a Time in Thedas' or, more aptly, 'Exposition'. Anyway, let's get into complicating the plot one last time, shall we? (Yeah, right.) Do leave your thoughts.
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Chapter 36 – A Fragile Thing
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What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.
~ Richard Bach
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Let go of my body!
"Cease your resistance," Dumat snarled in her mind. "Let me have the spark of creation and I'll let you go."
Leliana's hand hovered above the perfect, white sphere. It refused to latch on to it and instead drew away a little before struggling on what it wanted to do. Morrigan was almost entirely unconscious, with her blood slowly trickling along the black floor. Flemeth was either unconscious or dead. And the dragon lord realized that the bard had saved her mental resistance for stopping him from getting the sphere. He was surprised that she had let the witch be hurt so badly to save her strength.
Get away!
"You're just a betrayer," Dumat whispered. "You're my messiah, nothing more and nothing less. You even confessed your love to dear Morrigan and then practically killed her. No better than Marjolaine, you know."
The hand's resistance fluttered for a moment and it descended closer to the orb.
"The world will end and it's all your fault," The dragon lord hissed.
The hand fell a little closer again.
Let go!
"You cannot resist me. I see everything in your mind. I can prey on every fear and insecurity. Stop your pointless struggle or I will hammer your psyche to dust."
Leave!
The massive wave of resistance took even Dumat by surprise as the bard's hand drew further away from the white orb and once again began threatening to reach forward.
"So you seduced Morrigan to satisfy your lust and then you betrayed and killed her," The dragon lord said. "At least you're behaving like the bard you once were."
He could reiterate this forever and each time he would inch closer to his goal and Leliana's resistance would shrink just a little more. Although, the fight she was putting up was certainly admirable. Out of the crack of Leliana's eyes, he could notice Morrigan stirring.
"Fight him, my love," She murmured weakly.
The god of silence regretted not removing her ability to speak. "That only works in the stories," He chuckled as he continued to hammer the bard's mind, forcing himself closer to his goal.
NO!
Dumat cursed his waning strength outside the prison. At this rate he would not have the Maker's spark. Of course, he had prepared for this eventuality. He hadn't expected to acquire it this time anyway. He would do things the other way then. Now that the gates of the Black City had been torn open, the spark of creation was readily exposed. Once he was free, he could acquire it with no effort. For the moment, it seemed he needed his messiah to see things a little more clearly.
"Very well, I'll let go. But also, let me show you."
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Leliana blinked as she glanced across the lovely scenery. Soft green grass stretched in all directions with vast trees offering shade at intermittent intervals. Clumps of forest lined her peripheral vision as a soft wind blew against her skin. And the rows of colorful flowers that grew in scattered regions, they were the most beautiful things she had ever seen. She let out an involuntary sigh as her muscles seemed to relax of their own volition.
"I take you admire this," Came a soft voice from behind her.
She turned around and narrowed her eyes at the figure of Archon Thalsian, or Dumat to be precise.
"What is this?" She demanded.
"Thedas," The dragon lord said wistfully. "Once upon a time."
A roar shook the air around her. But, to her immense surprise, it didn't seem hostile or upsetting. The deep bass tones were relaxing and inspiring at the same time. She turned to find the source and felt her heart leap in awe at the incredible beast behind them. It was the largest dragon she had ever seen. She felt completely comfortable in its presence. Its scales shimmered in every color she could imagine but not in a violent way like Zazikel's. They seemed to warp to whatever color she felt a momentary attraction for. The gentle green eyes made her heart melt while the claws were sharp and yet not worrying in the least. The bard took a moment to realize her mouth was hanging open and she took care to shut it.
"What is it?" She asked reverently, forgetting Dumat almost completely.
"That is the tevinter dragon god of majesty and glory," The dragon lord smiled. "His name is Dumat."
She stared dumbly at the figure of Archon Thalsian. A knowing smile lit the face of the tanned man in the black robe.
"Does my form from ages past surprise you?" He asked.
"You're lying," The orlesian murmured. It was impossible that Dumat and this glorious creature were the same.
The dragon lord shook his head sadly and snapped a finger. The glorious dragon's scales and features seemed to implode on themselves, creating the familiar void like dragon she was more used to. The green eyes eventually dissolved into the malicious, glowing white ones. With another click of his fingers, the dragon reverted to its previous form and flew into the sky with a single, graceful flap of its wings.
"Where are we?" Leliana asked softly as old memories of the Black City began to assail her. Morrigan lying in a pool of her blood, broken by the bard's hands. She tried to suppress the welling feelings, she had to try and concentrate on the issue at hand.
"This is Thedas," Was Dumat's only response. "Back when things were new. Freshly made by the Maker's hands."
He paused before continuing. "We were all different back then. But you see, a god is a being that has its own fundamental essence and yet projects a chosen image for the people of the world. I was once the god of majesty and then I chose to be the god of silence."
"I'm not speaking to either of them right now, am I?" Leliana said quietly.
"I see your intelligence has not abandoned you. No, you are speaking to Dumat."
"Why appear like this now when previously you only confronted me as the god of silence."
"Because I think you should understand my messiah," He said gently. "About what happened then and what must happen now. And you do love stories, don't you?"
He smirked at her silence before beginning. "The Maker forged this world, as you well know. I was the first of his children, and the greatest of them. Perhaps I was made far too strong and knowledgeable. The ones created later were lesser. Your Maker is a being detached from everything and yet is all of existence. When he abandoned this world, the spark that remained was the inanimate part of his being that held the fabric of reality together. As I said, it is the power of true creation and I desire it."
"The Maker has forged countless worlds before this and he shall undoubtedly forge countless worlds after this," Dumat smiled wryly. "He is almost like a child. When bored or offended by one toy, he simply moves on to a new one. But unlike many children, he never looks back. He certainly promised, as I'm sure he promised to every world before this, that Thedas was his favorite creation and that he would never abandon it. But things were different then, as the sights around you bear evidence to."
"You're no better than that," Leliana murmured. "You intend to destroy the world and remake it to your pleasing."
"Dear, there is one thing that omniscience, omnipotence and immortality do not grant," The dragon lord laughed. "And that would be maturity. You mortals learn to live without being perfectly satisfied in all spheres of your life. That is one of the things in which you find growth. This is not true for gods. As we age, our knowledge grows and our perceptions change but we need not learn to 'live with' things. We have the ability to take whatever we want."
His eyes glinted for a moment. "And why shouldn't we? That is even truer in my case. While the other gods are powerful, they cannot destroy the world. Once I possess the Maker's spark, why shouldn't I satisfy myself utterly? If I have the power to make the world to my desires, I will use it."
"Why did you change from the god of glory and majesty?" The bard asked softly.
"The god of majesty was simply a chosen façade like the god of silence," He replied. "But I understand your question. Those many years ago, I believed it was due to jealousy. The creators were made as gods by the hand of the Maker. That, of course, upset me as they were not under my command and I was the greatest of his children. So I took the form of destruction incarnate to crush them. But I was young then, as was the world. Now I see that jealousy was merely my justification."
"What was the real reason?" Leliana asked, wondering if she wanted an answer.
"I was bored," He shrugged.
The orlesian stared dumbfounded. "You-" She began but her voice simply trailed away.
"What's the matter?" Dumat mocked. "Can't find a word hideously obscene enough to describe my motives? For a mortal, you are right. In your eyes, boredom is a sick motivation to destroy reality. But as I have said, gods expect satisfaction in all spheres. That is why we so desire prayer. It makes us feel comfortable."
The smile returned to his face. This time it was malicious. The ground beneath their feet began to char and blacken. "The world was so pure and beauteous back then," He hissed. "I wondered what would happen if I took that innocence and raped it and beat it to death. The result is before you."
The blackness covered the land as the flowers died. The air became still and stifling and smelled of fetid corpses. The trees twisted before uprooting themselves.
"I gave birth to the black trees to be the antithesis of the Varterral," He laughed. "I split the people of the world."
The scene flashed for an instant and Leliana could see several elves kneeling before the god of silence. A group of five slit their throats before him and their blood pooled around his claws. She watched with horror as the rest of them changed. Their ears drew back; they became taller and somewhat better built.
"That's right," The dragon lord breathed from behind her. "I created your miserable race. Some of the people surrendered their immortality in my service and I gave to them greater power than the others. They despised the elves from the very beginning. For while they lived in filth and darkness, the elves lived in the grand forests of Arlathan. And they couldn't hate me; that would be wrong."
The scene shifted to bloodshed and mad war. "I engulfed the entire world in the flames of death," Dumat whispered. "The shemlen fought the elves and they all died. I consumed more and more of the creators' holy forests with each day. I blackened the ground and cast over the skies. And the elven gods were too scared to fight me for I had defeated them before. I brought war and racial hatred to Thedas."
"Just as I told you," He said gently. "I raped the world's innocence and purity. It felt fantastic. But this world is too old now; with your help I shall forge a new one. You've already done all that was needed except to release us completely. I'm sure you will comply with even that in good time."
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The first thing Leliana felt was heat, especially in the wind. The second was light waves of sand buffeting against her armor and skin. She glanced around at the dirt that extended in all directions. She was surrounded by the decaying edifices of ancient buildings. Not a hint of green or any sign of water in the endless wasteland. Dead was the first and only word that stuck in her mind. Her heart leapt when she noticed Morrigan getting shakily to her feet and dusting herself off.
"I'm so sorry," The bard blurted. "I didn't mean to… I didn't know-"
The witch apparently didn't feel like listening and pounced on Leliana, tightly locking their lips together. The orlesian felt herself pressed against one of the cracking stone walls as she moaned into the kiss. Morrigan broke away eventually and began to bite and lick at the bard's neck as her hands traced the orlesian's curves. Leliana was surprised by the ferocious passion but too taken up by it.
"I love you, I love you!" She moaned in the heat of the moment, whimpering as the witch drew away.
The next statement shattered everything. "It is good to see my messiah has finally seen the light," Came the mocking tone.
Those eyes weren't the beautiful golden she remembered, of course not. It was the goddamn glowing white of the dragon lord. The rest of the witch's form shimmered and fell away as the figure of Archon Thalsian replaced it. The eyes refused to change.
"Stop it!" Leliana shrieked, collapsing on her knees and sobbing unintentionally. "Stop torturing me, damn it!"
Dumat frowned for a moment. "You shouldn't have challenged me. I warned you time and time again and yet you insisted on being foolish. Although I admire your resilience, it took a good amount of time to break you."
"B-break?" The bard whimpered, unable to help herself.
"You clearly aren't in a good state of mind," The dragon lord sighed. "You can usually recognize my aura and yet this time you fell for the simplest of illusions."
He chuckled before continuing. "First your mother died, then the person who cared for you. You fell in love with your mentor who betrayed you and broke your heart. The orlesian authorities broke your body. You found Alisa and her companions and remembered what hope and happiness meant. Then you were poisoned by the woman you wanted and shunned by your friend. Then tricked into the fade by Roysten, forced into accepting a deal with us."
Dumat stared unkindly at Leliana's quivering form. "Then you tortured and killed your mentor which brought little closure, I'm sure. Then you were forced into painfully hurting your old companions. When Morrigan pulled you from the edge of the precipice you once more found your precious hope and happiness. And then, I possessed you, betrayed the witch and practically killed her. Are you surprised there's nothing left in you?"
"Wh-what is this p-place?" The bard couldn't help her stammering.
"Your psyche," The dragon lord said with a touch of triumph. "Do you see how barren it is? Dead, broken, gone. Let me break it to you, you've finally snapped. A touch of magic on my part has trapped you in the image of your psyche."
Dumat continued with little regard to the few tears that had begun trickle down the orlesian's cheek. "You want to get out, I suppose. It's rather simple. Convince yourself that it isn't your fault."
"I-" Leliana began before her head sank.
"Thought not," The dragon lord laughed. "Or you could use the brute force of magic to shatter my spell. Although, the exertion will cause our prison to break. Not much choice."
The bard mutely shook her head.
Dumat shrugged. "You'll have to eventually. This place is nothing but pain and you can't die here. You'll be pushed to the point of shattering the illusion eventually. One other thing you should know, Morrigan was more important than you currently believe."
A questioning look flashed unwillingly across the orlesian's face for an instant.
"If we hadn't taken the course we did, Morrigan would have become one of the principle forces that would forge what came after the blight," The dragon lord chuckled. "But more importantly, she was a valid conduit. I wonder… What if we had done things differently? Regardless, it is time for me to take my leave. I look forward to my freedom when your own mind drives you into releasing us. By the way, you lose."
The figure vanished in an instant and Leliana shakily rose to her feet. She stumbled a few steps, a million thoughts running through her head. And then she simply collapsed on to the ground, crying. Letting her tears run into the coarse, cold, sand.
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Author's Note: Well, hope you liked it. Do leave your thoughts. I'll update as soon as I can.
To my reviewers:
interesting2125: Thanks for the review! I think I've decided on how I'll do the Maker when we get to it. Hope it works. And now you've gone and stuck the cellphone in my head too. *sigh*. Blazt's motivations kind of lent him to that sort of attitude. Game villains tend to have more 'normal' motivations if you know what I mean. Normal compared to 'blow up world, make new one' anyway :P
Nightwish11606: Thanks! Nyquil? Man, all my reviewers are sticking me with weird images. Now I can't help but picture Blazt with a cellphone and Nyquil. That would make for a weird story. *shudders*. But yeah, poor wardens. I felt bad setting a bunch of bloodthirsty demons on them but the plot called for it.
Trystan438: Thanks! A little bloodlust and violence is good for you, right? A swordstaff would generally be an awesome weapon. Admittedly, it was partially inspired from the dragon age 2 trailer, but I took my liberties from there. Hope you like the rest of the story!