Hi everyone! Welcome to the adventures of my magequisitor Trevelyan!

This is my first story I decided to share with anyone... and English is not my mother tongue, so I'm sorry for any mistakes or weirdness! I'd love to hear what you think and if you'd like to read more. Thank you for your time, I hope you'll have fun!

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Chapter 1: Under the Torn Sky

Drip, drip... drip, drip... rhythmic sound of water hitting stone stirred her from the sweet release of unconsciousness. A ragged exhale left her lips and her eyelids fluttered open.

Where am I?

Her small form curled on the cold stone floor was surrounded by a faint smell of dampness and mold which contrasted strongly with a smoke of a torch mounted to the wall nearby, not bright enough to light the entirety of the room. Feeling of the cold metal cuff wrapped loosely around her slender wrists made her shiver in disgust, summoning ghosts of her past. Acknowledgement of dull pain in her limbs crept on her and her breathing quickened a little matching the pace of her heart which was quickly pounding in her chest.

What happened?

She tried to remember how in the blighted fade she ended up in here.

The Temple of Sacred Ashes. Divine Justinia's Conclave. The mass of bright and sickly green light around me. I'm climbing up to the brightest of the light. Skittering sound behind me urges me to climb even faster. Fear. Crippling fear...

"Ahh!" The sudden pain accompanied with a flash of green light surged through her body, made her groan and hiss and forced her eyes completely open in order to find the cause of it. She examined her left palm where a strange flashy mark dwelled, flickering and sparkling as if it was angry at her for trying to recall the recent events.

Well, shit... no, no... no good. This definitely is NOT good.

The mark felt completely different from her own magic. Her magic felt somewhat foggy, electric and potent like summer air and skies, whilst a deep purple thunderstorm gathered on the horizon. This mark felt almost parasitic. Not in sync with her nature at all, just sucking energy out with every pulse. Even though spirit magic and ancient arcane were her fields of expertise, it felt like nothing she ever came by.

Her thoughts were cut short by the thundering sound of a door being forcefully open. It echoed through the prison hall and she was able to recognize two pairs of boots rushing her way.

The black haired warrior and a red headed lithe woman approached her with confidence.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now?" The direct question asked by the warrior rang ominously through the prison.

Well look at you Char... another pile of drufallo shite and yet again, it looks like you are the one to end up shoveling it... how ironic.

So… if nothing else, the mark has proven to be useful at least.

Charlotte glanced at her hand where the green light flickered and then back at the space where a fade rift had been just seconds ago. She already closed some of the rifts on their way here, still she couldn't help herself not to be amazed by the sheer power radiating from the mark.

The bald elven mage seemed to know how to use it to their advantage. Luckily for her.

At least someone did. She made an inside note to thank Solas later. He basically saved her life by preventing the mark from consuming her and draining her of her power completely. Still, the bigger the gaping hole in the sky got with each pulse, the more painfully the mark tugged at her arm.

Another pulse followed with a dull thundering thud. She fell on her knees to the frozen, snow covered ground with a groan, clasping at her left wrist in a sudden urge to hold her hand in place as the pain felt almost as if it was about to tear the hand away from her body. This one was particularly strong.

A metal glove reached to her arm and urged her to get up again.

"We need to get to the breach as soon as possible. There's no time to dally."

Piece of cake, sure. Close the breach and survive. Do your job. And hopefully survive the following trial as well. If I live to partake.

Charlotte scoffed internally and narrowed her eyes at the black haired woman who spoke just a second ago with that pragmatic tone of hers. The mage had a feeling this was Cassandra's tone of choice regarding anything and couldn't help herself but wonder whether the stern Seeker is going to have her executed right after her purpose is fulfilled.

She was the only survivor. The only one to end up alive after the Temple went boom... It sounded painfully similar to Kirkwall's chantry fate. No wonder they suspected this mayhem to be her doing… She was THE MAGE afterall.

A blonde dwarf dressed in an open chest shirt standing beside Charlotte apparently noticed the look she shot at the warrior. A mischievous grin appeared on his face. "Don't worry about Cassandra's brooding Spectre. She's all warm and welcoming once you get to know her." Then he added with a chuckle. "What Seeker Pentaghast here meant to say, was that we value your help greatly."

Seeker's serious expression twisted to an annoyed grin as she proceeded to lead the way again. "Not now, Dwarf. This is not the time for mere banter. The prisoner is our only hope to sort this mess out. We can dwell on casualties once this is over."

"It's okay master Tethras", Charlotte mumbled towards the dwarf and rubbed her palm as they regrouped and rushed up the mountain path leading to the Temple. "I'm feeling most welcome here. Pampered even." she added, as she smirked ironically.

"Already told ya Spectre. It's Varric." She sneered at the curious nickname the dwarf gave her as she followed Cassandra and Solas who were leading the way.

"Already told ya Varric. It's Char. Or Carla."

"Yeah, sure. Let's go Spectre." Varric shrugged as he fastened his crossbow "Bianca" to his back.

As they advanced closer to the remains of the temple, her feeling of unease grew stronger. There were scorched bodies everywhere, charred and forever petrified in their horror and vain attempts to run away from the explosion. Smoldering debris covered the ground around them. Apart from the smoldering bodies, there were strange red crystals growing from the ground. It sang… the song felt almost similar to blue lyrium, however this one felt somehow twisted. Corrupted. Evil...

All of the Conclave dead. All the mages and templars. All the envoys, elven, human, even qunari. All dead. Everyone except for her. She shook the thoughts off. There was no time to delve into the grief which threatened to take over herself.

Not now. She can allow herself to grieve later.

If there actually IS a later. A small voice in her head whispered.

Another rift. They managed to kill the shades and a rage demon that poured out of the torn veil.

With the last of the demons dead, Charlotte held her hand out and a stream of greenish light surged towards the rift. She gritted her teeth and focused on patching it up, her mark acting as if it was some kind of magical thread, sewing the rift close.

The rift disappeared with a throb. Solas rushed to her side as Charlotte gasped in an attempt not to fall down and to steady her breathing.

"Lady Cassandra!" An unfamiliar voice rang from the other side of the small opening in the ruins."You managed to close the rift. Well done. Leliana is awaiting you with her men at the Breach."

Charlotte shot a glance in a direction it came from. There was a metal clad man with a huge fur mantle hanging around his shoulders.

Lion's mane. She thought. Proud and fierce.

A small scar splitting the corner of his upper lip, dark blonde of his slightly undercut hair, and a determined expression in his amber eyes were the first things that caught her eye. There was a notable aura of nobility in his warm voice and one could definitely tell that he was a warrior by the way he held his posture. His messy slightly curled hair, droplets of sweat on his forehead and a slight hint of tiredness on his face suggested that he and his men had been fighting out here for a good while. Yet he stood there ready and in complete control. Control... Her heart skipped a beat under sudden realization - she knew a templar when she saw one.

"Don't congratulate me Commander." Cassandra replied pragmatically and nodded in Charlotte's direction who had just been trying to fix her messy bun, standing not far from them. "This is the prisoner's doing." Cassandra's proclamation made her raise an eyebrow in surprise. Now that was new, Charlotte thought. She did not expect any word of thanks anymore. Not that she ever did since waking up to an interrogation extraordinaire a few hours ago and her hands cuffed - the life of a Circle mage taught her better.

The man turned his gaze towards her and their eyes met. The power of that small moment made her magic stirr in her veins and a small unexpected shiver of electricity ran down her spine.

"Is it? I hope that we're right about you. We lost a great number of men in order to get you here." He noted coldly, his investigative gaze fixed on her.

Right. As if I didn't feel bad enough already… Charlotte frowned a little and let out a small sight. His statement sounded almost arrogant. Oh no... what else am I to expect from a templar anyways.

"Well… I can't promise anything." she shrugged, forcing a fake smile, never breaking eye contact. "At least there will be no need for a trial if I don't live through this. Hopefully my passing will finally prove me innocent." she continued with a hint of sarcastic bitterness in her voice.

The Breach sparkled angrily above their heads. Without waiting for his answer Charlotte turned on her heel to hurry towards Temple's central part, leaving the others behind her. She was so done with this. No more suspicious looks and accusations. No more contempt from anyone, especially from templars and seekers. She's closing this thing now, not caring about whether she lives or not.