Interlude 26: The Sword of Mercy and Andraste's Grace

A Legend of the Chantry

Archon Hessarian spent a wakeful night before the slated execution of the Prophetess. He already regretted following his bitter wife's demands that Andraste be slain publicly as a warning to any who would raise their hand against the Imperium.

Lady Vasilia claimed that the drought and famine plaguing the citizenry of the Imperium were the fault of Andraste, claiming that the woman was a powerful mage well versed in elemental magic. She refused to believe that Andraste was a messenger of the divine, the Beloved of the Maker. Her vanity and vengeance blinded her to the truth that the lowly could rise up from a savage land, among the native tribes of the Wilds. The woman mistakenly believed that destroying Andraste would wipe away all resistance.

Hessarian rose the following morning, poured water from his golden ewer in his marble basin, but his hands continued to feel covered in grime. When he broke his fast with wine and bread, it tasted like ash in his mouth. When he dressed himself in his finest robes, he felt clothed in tatters. Standing before his people, looking down on the pyre, he felt as if he were attending his own execution.

As Andraste was brought forward by armed guards, he longed to rescind his command, to stay the execution, but his throat felt parched as his wife looked on smugly. The Prophetess was tied roughly to the pyre and the soldiers brought forward the torches with which to set the kindling ablaze. The Archon stood and addressed the condemned woman, "Have you nothing to say?"

If the Lady Vasilia had hoped for tears or begging, she was to be gravely disappointed, for the Prophetess raised a voice that was both gentle and strong, easily heard above the hushed crowd, "The time for words and action have passed, it is as it was meant to be. May the Maker spread his grace on you! You have not punished me, but honored me. You have not cast me down, but raised me up for the eyes of all. You have not removed me from this mortal realm, but delivered me to the Maker's side. His glory will reign long after the Imperium is dust."

"Vile Harlot!" shrieked Lady Vasilia and before Hessarian could respond she signaled for the fires to be lit. The flames spread swiftly, helped along by the pitch that had been spread for such a purpose.

Andraste did not scream, but mutely moved her lips in silent prayer as the flames climbed higher. At that moment, Hessarian realized his compliance in this atrocity was unpardonable, but was helpless to save the Bride from her final suffering. She began to smolder and writhe, consumed before his eyes.

The Maker spoke to Hessarian, compelling him to action. Rushing down from his dais, Hessarian grabbed a great sword from one of his own guards, rushed the pyre and drove the point swiftly through the dying woman's heart, his hands and arms being severely burned in the process. It is said that the Prophetess looked at him in her dying moment and her final words were a prayer pleading for forgiveness for the man as he staggered back, falling to his knees at the foot of the pyre, and still gripping the sword in his burnt fingers.

Lady Vasilia cried and berated her husband's weakness, but he heeded her not. He remained by the pyre for two days until the coals cooled and blackened. When the remains ceased to smolder, he called servants forward to gather the ashes that remained of the Prophetess into a simple white urn and had it brought to his rooms. He did not bathe or put away the sword that had ended Andraste's suffering, her blood dried on the blade.

He refused audience to his wife and all members of his court, but cloistered himself in his grief. He fasted and refused all company until his most trusted servant located and took a message to Andraste's disciple Havard. Hessarian found a way to transfer the Prophetess' ashes into Havard's guardianship in the hopes that none would defile her remains.

Afterwards, when he had finished his time of self-imposed mourning for the Bride of the Maker, he emerged from his palace clean shaven in a plain tunic to address his people. Hessarian set aside his wife, claiming he preferred to live celibate than allow his heart and being to be ruled by one swayed by vengeance. He chose to follow the example of Andraste as a leader. Hessarian was also responsible for having the teachings and songs of Andraste collected in order that they be recorded and taught to others.

Regardless of all his good works and service, Hessarian could not forgive his own complicity in Andraste's final suffering. He carried the sword that ended her life on his back and refused to clean the blood from the blade. The blood itself never faded, but maintained its bright crimson color against the steel. He referred to the blade as his burden and a reminded to temper all justice with mercy.

Towards the end of his life, he was compelled to make pilgrimage to the birthplace of the Prophetess in an attempt to atone for his sins in life. Taking only two servants and leaving instructions for his intended successor, he set off from Minrathous knowing he would not return.

After an arduous journey, he entered what is now the country of Ferelden and located the village where Andraste had been born. Having revealed his identity to none, he made his way through the huts until he found one at the edge of the settlement. An old, stooped woman sat outside and ground herbs with a mortar and pestle as he approached. As he approached her, the woman raised her head and squinted her eyes at him. Her wrinkles seemed to furrow deeper as she motioned him to take a seat on a stool by her hut.

"I have seen your coming," the woman whispered softly, "it was revealed to me in a dream from the Maker."

Hessarian shifted uncomfortably and quietly questioned, "Do you know who I am as well?"

"I know you, but I have known you for many years. This is not the first time I had dreamed of you. I saw you first in a dream as I cradled my daughter in my arms as a babe. I saw that you were both her executioner with the sword you still have strapped to your back," the woman revealed, "I am Brona. I was Andraste's mother. I bestowed life upon my child as surely as you bestowed death. We are the knots at both ends of the string of her life." Tears streamed down the woman's wrinkle furrowed cheeks.

Hessarian hung his head, confronted with his own shame, "I beg your pardon, good mother. I have wronged you as surely as I wronged your child and the Maker who sent her. I wish to debase myself at your feet in my wretchedness before I leave this world. I do not deserve your forgiveness." With this, Hessarian went to his knees before the woman and offered the sword on his back for her to strike him down.

"I was only made to give life, not to take it away," the woman replied brokenly, "your punishment has been the burden of that sword. You need not carry it any more. Strike it through the ground here. Come into my home and I shall feed you."

Disbelieving, Hessarian did as he was bid and followed the woman into the hut. The sword stood without, abandoned and forgotten.

The next morning, when Hessarian stirred and left the hut, where the sword had been there stood a flower. The flower itself was white with a heart the color of spattered blood, like that which had covered the sword. A fragrance exuded from the flower that was sweet and clean.

Hessarian turned to the woman in wonder as she came walked from her hut, saying, "You have been forgiven, not because of your actions, but because of Andraste's grace and intercession to the Maker on your behalf. This flower is a sign of the Maker's provision for you and for all who turn from their ways and seek the truth."

Within a week, Hessarian passed away and asked to be buried in an unmarked grave, seeking no glory for himself. The following year the flower had spread across the country side. People used the flowers to both line the cradles of newborns and to be strewn upon the graves of the dead. It was meant to remind believers of the place of the Maker in both birth and death.

Both the Sword of Mercy and Andraste's Grace have been adopted as holy symbols that are used by the Chantry to this day.