O'LEOHAT: THE DARK BRIDE

WHEN SHE WAS YOUNGER SINNIRALIN had never quite understood why she didn't grow up with the Dalish elves, but had lived isolated from the Dalish, chasinds, and apostates, always on the move, never staying at one place for longer than necessary.

When her magic first displayed itself she thought perhaps this was the reason, maybe their mother feared they would be taken away? As she grew, she realized this was not the case. Still they kept fleeing from something. The templars her mother once said though Sinniralin was old enough to question this statement, highly doubting the templars was the real reason. Then one day their path had accidentally crossed with a group of chasinds. The group had stopped dead in their tracks when they discovered Sinniralin and her mother and sister.

"We want you no harm O'leohat." Their leader had said. Holding his arms out to his side he stopped the rest of the group from moving towards them, or did he protect them? Sinniralin had frowned upon the strange word he used to address her mother. Perhaps it was a shemlen word?

It was not. Later on when she and Belkin had stolen some documents for the arl of Verehiel the golden back of a book had caught her eyes in the arless of Val Foret's study. She peered closer standing on her toes while reading the letters. O'leohat: The Dark Bride.

"If you want it grab it, but make it quick we must make haste Sin." Belkin had whispered behind her.

She had grabbed the book and scurried after him. Later on that night when she was alone in the guild's commons she pulled out her book. It pulsated with something wicked and dark. She could feel it as she let her fingertips slide across the granular cover. It felt like being electrified by those Lyrium eels one could find in Marnus Pell. Belkin had smuggled one to Orzammar once and she had had the pleasure of seeing it before he delivered it. It had a sinister eerie look to it its black scaly body radiating the blue tint of the Lyrium dwelling within it. She opened the cover carefully and read the first few lines.

The book detailed the rise of the Chantry and the prophet Andraste. However this book seemed to be a collection of texts that had been removed from the chant. The book alleged that perhaps Andraste was not the Maker's chosen one, but simply an extraordinary powerful mage. Possessing powers none had seen before, further more it claimed that Andraste had a sister, Aithne. This was when things had become interesting and as she read on Sinniralin found there was something familiar about the whole text. Aithne and Andraste had been the twin daughters of a powerful mage. It was unclear who the father was and the children had seemingly been conceived without the participation of a male. This resulted in persistent rumours that the mage had struck a deal with the Creator of the Old Gods - Tes'Hathr. In exchange for a fragment of his powers she would grant him his spawn to carry out his will on earth. The deal had been struck and the two infants born, but as they grew Andraste developed her own will straying from her father's plans.

According to the chant it was Andraste's mortal husband Maferath who betrayed her, but according to this book it was Aithne who had betrayed her sister. Aithne had followed the course that had been laid out for her, carrying out her father's evil deeds. She had entered into a union with a Demon thus becoming the Dark Bride – O'leohat. What became of her after Andraste's dead was unknown, but the forbidden lore – lore which was not to be spoken of, most evidence of its existence burnt, detailed how Aithne had withdrawn into hiding with her husband awaiting the return of the Creator of Old Gods. The book mentioned Andraste's last prophecy allegedly prophesising the rise of O'leohat's children. Turning the page she had been disappointed to see that the prophecy could only be found in one book throughout Thedas, The Search for the True Prophet.

Sinniralin had looked up from the book feeling uneasy. The chasind leader had called her mother O'leohat that day in the Arbor Wilds. Perhaps he had been mistaken?

She shook her head thinking of the last time she had seen her mother before her mother descended completely into madness.

"Stupid girl. Stupid little girl." Her mother had muttered where she sat scraping her inch long nails against the trunk of a Wildtree. Her hair hung in long muddy strands reminding Sinniralin of dark twisting leeches.

"Mamae?" Her mother hadn't so much as looked at her. "Mamae." She persisted.

Her mother's head jerked towards her, glazed over, dark eyes twitching in a horrid manner.

"Tes'Hathr calls to me da'len. Your father... he wants you back now."

Her father? Her mother had only ever mentioned their father once stating he had died and there was nothing more to say. Her mother grabbed her by her wrists hissing madly.

"Sinniralin embrace Tes'Hathr, embrace your father!"

Her mother had tried to bite her after she threw her into the thick trunk. Sinniralin had barely managed to escape scrambling to her feet. Grabbing her frightened sister they fled the Arbor Wilds never to look back again.

Now when she sat in the commons with the thick golden book in her hand she realized the chasind leader had not been mistaken that day. It was a scary thought to think that her mother had been the Dark Bride. But if her mother had indeed been the Dark Bride, then what did that make Sinniralin and her sister?

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Humans called them Death Wraiths. The elves called them Aognaidh. Dwarves called them demigods. Others called them Demons, different people called it different things, but it was a big misconception that those names meant the same thing. A death wraith was the Collector of the souls of mortals. Allegedly they collected the souls of any of those which they killed, feeding the old gods with them. That was the death wraith's main task, feeding the gods, at least that's what the lore most people had heard said, not many knew the truth that the death wraiths were still paying the debts the magisters who crept into the Golden City brought upon the old gods. At times Sinniralin wished she was in fact a Death Wraith, not often, but sometimes. Death Wraith weren't demons they were simply shadowed beings. Death Wraiths couldn't kill just anyone. To kill someone the person would have to be able to see the wraith, and to see a wraith meant you were close to death. No, she was no Death Wraith such restrictions did not apply to her. She was something far worse.

She travelled all day and night her cloak billowing behind her. She pushed the stallion as hard as she could, forcing it to gallop across the Imperial Highway. Lloyd's face danced before her eyes. She grimaced from the stallion's back. Killing was so easy. It came so naturally for her when she entered that stage, stripping herself of emotions. Then came moments like this when there was nothing else to obstruct her mind with and memories of old conquests and victims fared before her eyes. She shook her head forcing the mental image away. Unlike her sister Sinniralin wasn't as cold-hearted and sinister, not that it hadn't taken her a lot of effort to remain this human, her darker side always threatening to take over should she lose control of herself. It was a relentless and tiring battle raging within her every waking moment. At times she wondered why she didn't just give in and let the darkness she was born from engulf her, turning her into its slave, but then she remembered loving Belkin, spending hot days underneath the summer sun on the streets of Highever a content feeling resting in her chest, she remembered the face of a young noble woman pushing her hand into her own, and she knew that even for just those memories she could not let herself be turned into the old gods' merciless champion.

The chestnut stallion snorted wildly through its large nostrils as its strong toned body charged across the dirt road and the elf ducked low in her saddle. She could feel its muscles tense and relax with every movement it made. She stopped only a few times to allow the stallion to rest and drink water. She watched it as it bent its head low drinking from the murmuring stream. It was a young stallion and even though she had pushed it far too hard its stamina was infallible. By dawn they came to a slow trot by the open fields of Savea. The stallion snorted as she scanned the area from its back. She could see the vague outlining of Kinloch Hold at the horizon and to her right lay the vast lake Calenhad its dark waters rippling in the early dawn breeze. The early morning mist lay like a thick blanket across the field, the sun hardly penetrating it. She slid out of the saddle and landed on the soft grass with a soft thud. She pulled on her shadowcloak the heavy mist rolling in and out around her legs like waves on a stormy sea.

"You wait here." She told the chestnut stallion then turned to the Harpia. "You scout ahead. Off you go."

It did as it had been told, soaring soundlessly into the sky. Sinniralin hunched down into the mist becoming invisible as the cloak swirled and twisted around her. The wardens must be near. She could feel a strange sense of connection to them. She had never experienced such thing in her life it was almost as if they were bound to each other on some strange level.

She crept through the forest, senses alert. She studied the ground but found no signs of the group. From what she had gathered by listening to Bella and Lloyd there were no more than four of them travelling together. She frowned reaching for her magic, their presence was strong yet she found nothing. She kneeled brushing the ground with her leatherclad hand. Her eyes glinted and she grinned wickedly.

"I see you travel with a rogue." She mused. And a good one at that. The rogue had covered their tracks remarkably well almost tricking her. Almost. Whoever this rogue was she or he was highly skilled. She smiled. This was going to be so much more fun than she had expected. Feeling the excitement of the chase build and increase within her she stood up and laughed gleefully as she raced back to the stallion.

.

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"It is still stalking us." The bard said to their leader. "I've tried to shake it off, but it keeps on coming back."

"It just won't give up." Deanna Cousland eyed the camp with her meticulous eyes as she tried to determine the chances of someone or something ambushing them.

"It doesn't feel like a darkspawn or the archdemon." The blonde human standing next to her said. "It feels worse." He shuddered.

Deanna nodded thinking there was a familiar feeling to the thing stalking them. She frowned as she tried to decide what it was failing miserably.

The bard spoke again. "In my vision..."

"You mean in your dream." The sultry witch interrupted her.

"I... it's not a dream. Believe what you want Morrigan, but I know it's a vision. I believe in the Maker's holy plan for me." The bard retorted confidently.

The witch scoffed and narrowed her eyes. "'Tis a good thing someone does."

"Perhaps we should just try and get to the Circle of Magi as fast as we can. Since we're up and about we might as well move out." The blonde warden suggested.

"Yes Alistair, what a marvellous plan. Let's keep on travelling until we collapse from exertion, then surely our stalker won't catch us." Morrigan goaded the warden who simply glared back at her.

"Morrigan does have a point." Deanna cut in. "We have to rest."

Suddenly the bard waved her hands hushing them all silent her eyes darting back and forth.

"I thought I heard something... I could swear..." She mumbled as the other companions watched her intently. "We best keep an extra person on guard tonight." She said peering in to the pitch black woods. "Its stalking us as if we were nothing but a helpless prey."

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.

Sinniralin smiled from the branch she was crouching on watching the small camp. They knew she was following them. She had let them know wanting to fill them with weariness – keeping them on their toes. She eyed the redheaded rogue. So that was who had been putting her tracking skills to the test. Impressive.

The group was a rather odd one by the looks of it. She hadn't yet been able to determine everyone's role, but she'd spotted the rogue easily. It was the way her eyes moved, constantly scanning ahead of the team, searching not only the ground for hints and clues of enemies nearby, but also the trees and the sky. Sinniralin had yet to run into such a thorough rogue as herself, but she was starting to suspect she had met her equal.

Then there was the witch. It had only taken her one look at the witch to see her for what she was. She had studied the auras surrounding the witch. They were powerful, not to mention dangerous, to normal mortals she would be considered a lethal weapon, Sinniralin would merely think she was a bit of a nuances were she to take her out.

Aside from the witch and the bard there were the three warriors – the tall, huge one, the blonde human who seemed to be in his late twenties, and the young woman. Sinniralin had never seen the last warrior's face since she either wore her helmet or disappeared into her tent shutting the rest of the companions of the group out. Interesting...

Watching the peculiar group of misfits she couldn't help but wonder why the teryn wanted them dead so badly. She admitted to herself that she found herself being curious as to what they had done or what potential threat they could possibly be. Why was the teryn so eager to rid himself of these people. They Grey Wardens weren't generally liked by all, but she'd heard tales of them. They must know something that the teryn did not want them to know or tell anyone about. Yes, he seemed like the sort of man who would kill for something like that. Looking at it, it all seemed so curious. Curiosity. It was a peculiar thing and it had killed many men and women she had worked with. Taranis was the only other girl working as a rogue in Highever when Sinniralin was at large there and there was always this unspoken rivalry between them. Then one day when one of the nobles in Highever ordered a new chore from Taranis her curiosity had gotten the better of her as she wondered what was in the odd-looking package she was to deliver. The streets had whispered about how she had opened it to take a peak and she had been found scattered across Highever a few days later.

Belkin had taught Sinniralin that curiosity was sure to be the rogue's and bard's downfall should he or she ever fall for the temptation. So Sinniralin had simply gotten used to not asking questions, however this time...

She shrugged as she snapped back to reality again. Watching the female warrior she narrowed her eyes. There was a certain familiarity to her. Sinniralin couldn't really decide what it was, but she knew she would figure it out eventually. For now she'd seen enough. She leapt off the ledge she sat on somersaulting in the air before landing soundlessly on the ground.

Not long now. The wardens wouldn't even see it coming. Casting on last glance across her shoulder she smiled wickedly as she disappeared into the deep woods.

TO BE CONTINUED...

A/N: Sinniralin is getting closer and closer to the wardens and their companions. As I've said earlier this story really deviates from the game's storyline this is mainly because I wanted to add someone new, someone... blank. Someone who could observe the blight from a-whole-nother POV someone with a whole different origin story.

NEWS! There have been fanart made for my other story Tread Carefully. If you want to check out either the story or the fanart browse into my profile. Click on the link Tutchangers and you'll find her lovely fanart.

TEASER: "You there!" The dark-haired witch snapped at the man. Why is Morrigan so mad? Find out in the next chapter. :)

Till next time!

/Elmjuniper

Ps. Please excuse any weird phrasings or sentences or misspellings. I've been up sin 4 am and it is now 11.30 pm so my eyes are closing and I did grammar/spell check while being half asleep. If anyone however does feel like beta reading my text, send me a message here on .