Chapter 2

Temple of Ashes

Hi again, it's been a while. I finally got back into playing Inquisition and it helped get my brainworms of this project going again so I am going back and reviewing and editing the previous chapters I had uploaded before before I go and write the other ones

Thedas. The Free Marches. 9:41 Dragon. A few months ago.

"Who goes there?" Quen called out from amongst the treetops. He had an arrow notched in the bow that aimed at the group of three figures on the forest floor. The other patrol scouts were ready to loose their arrows on Quen's signal. The leaves were painted a deep reddish orange from the sun at dusk; Quen and the others were concealed in the canopies. Cool puffs of breath came from their mouths, signaling the sign of the coming of winter cold.

The trespassers consisted of a male Shemlan, a female Qunari, and a female dwarf.

The Shem looked in Quen's direction, holding his arms up in surrender. "We're just passing through. We mean no harm." Quen noted from the looks of the Shemlan's clean clothing with crisp stitching, shiny buttons, and formal and polite manner with his tone and his hand movements that he was a noble.

Putting his bow away with his daggers, Quen dropped down from the tree branches, landing silently on his bare feet in front of the three. The Qunari woman shifted, gripping her staff that she had been using as a walking stick.

Crossing his arms, Quen looked each of them over. "What business does a Qunari, a man, and a dwarf have out here in the Free Marches?"

"A little rude of a question, don't you think?" The dwarf stepped forward, glaring back up at Quen, her hand reaching behind to grab at her broadsword.

"Carlyn." The Shem said sternly to the dwarf woman to back off.

The dwarven woman sniffed in response, taking her hand off her weapon. "My name is Eugen Trevelyan. These two are my bodyguards, Carlyn Cadash," Eugen gestured to the dwarf."and Roshan Adaar." The Qunari mage nodded at Quen. "You are Dalish, are you not?" He continued, "We heard that you were in these forests and wished to trade while we continued on our journey. We do not mean to cause trouble."

Quen blinked, taken aback by the Shemlan's politeness. It was more common for other people to react like the Dwarf when confronted by Dalish scouts. Of course, Quen and his people had to appear hostile anyway, even if their clan was unique in being more open to trade with other races; there was no telling if a stranger would take advantage of knowing about an elven encampment. There were too many tales and warnings of entire clans slaughtered or enslaved due to their naivety and kindness.

"Your apology is appreciated. As long as you have no quarrel with clan Lavellan, you may proceed." He signaled to the rest of the scouts to lower their arrows, but to keep an eye on them nonetheless. The scouts descended from the trees, each of them landing just as softly on the leaves as their leader. They then proceeded to lead the travelers back to their camp.

Just as Quen was about to follow after them, a bird flew by in front of his face. He watched it land on a branch and let out one last chirp before flying off to migrate North for the winter.

Present day

Snow buffeted the dwarf's face as he watched the sky explode; green cracks forming around the hole. Far away from the source as he was, the dwarf could barely make out a spire stretching up to the hole in the sky.

"Well then." He huffed, adjusting his hood, and shielding his face from the harsh wind. Icicles clung to the thick hair on his face.

The shock wave from the explosion soon followed. The dwarf knelt in the snowbank, holding tightly to his staff as the shockwave blew more snowflakes in his direction.

He hoped that the door to his cave home was strong enough to handle the sudden rush of wind.

A smile graced the hermit's lips as four voices of his spirit friends whispered to him words of reassurance that his shelter was safe. Using his staff as a crutch, he lifted himself out of the snow to get a better look at the green hole in the sky.

"Then She and her sisters will soon follow…" He murmured. A steamy chuckle came about in response to one of the voices that questioned him. "Not now...we cannot meet with them yet. For now...we must wait."

The voices made a noise of agreement. The dwarven hermit turned then to head back to his hovel. "They will be alright. They are strong."

xoxoxo

The first thing Quen noticed when he regained consciousness was the taste of ash in his mouth. Struggling to get up, he found himself surrounded by green-hued mist and soot. Wiping his lips, he looked around and tried to remember what had happened.

He was here to spy on the Conclave and then- Quickly, his eyes darted around the space, looking for his companions.

"Roshan? Eugen? Carlyn?" The elf called out into the abyss. The only answer his pointed ears picked up was the howling wind.

Something on the palm of his left hand stung. He turned his head down to remove his glove when suddenly, he heard noises in front of him. Figures grew larger through the green fog.

The next thing he knew, he was running, his glove forgotten on the ground. The skittering of the giant spiders and groans of the-no, he did not want to think of them, close at his heels.

Ahead of him, he saw a white light, which he started towards. As he drew closer, he found the source of the light high up a steep wall of rubble.

The elf scrambled up on the rocks, trying to avoid slipping and falling back down to the hordes of demonic arachnids and other things climbing up behind him. His muscles were in a full-flight response as the rubble grew steeper and steeper the higher he climbed.

A loose rock under his foot caused him to stumble but he caught himself at the last second, sharp tiny pebbles digging into his uncovered hand-but he kept going.

At the top of the wall was a woman who was glowing with a golden light-Quen was too anxious from fleeing the monsters below to make out her face as she reached out to him. He raised his left arm to grab the helping hand.

The elf fell out from the Fade onto the newly fallen snow around the crater of what was left of the Temple of Ashes. Before he blacked out he heard a group of soldiers run up to him shouting. The palm of his left hand was stinging like a white-hot poker had been shoved through it.

xoxoxo

The faint smell of crystal grace slowly roused Quen from his sleep. He felt his mother's soft hands caress his face while his eyes stayed closed.

"Quen, my child," Her melodic voice filled his ears. He missed how his mother used to care for him like this. "I love you so much." Even with his eyes closed, he could picture her braided blonde hair with flowers delicately hidden amongst the weaves to give off that floral scent over her right shoulder. A gentle smile would have graced her face which lacked any Vallaslin.

"Be strong, little one, for what is to come." She paused, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Protect those you love-but do not give in to the anger that gives you strength." The tone of her voice became sad. "I'm sorry I was unable to teach you more."

She then mouthed out a set of words that he often heard her say, but there was no sound as she spoke them now.

This was wrong. His mother had been gone for almost a decade now. Even so, it was comforting to feel her presence again-but how?

Was he dreaming of her in the Fade? After all these years, he had never been able to see her. Evune was the only spirit he ever interacted with. Why only now was his mother here? This was different from the times he remembered meeting with Evune in the Fade. Everything felt...different.

Before he could open his mouth to call out to his mother, his left hand suddenly flared up, causing him to cry out. The pain coiled up to his shoulder, the blood in his veins turning to ice while bolts of electricity spasmed through his muscles.

The elf tried to clutch his arm to his chest but found both of his wrists encased in shackles. He sucked in a breath as the pain began to slowly subside, letting out a gasp as he opened his eyes and found himself on a cold stone floor of a cell.

"He's awake. Alert the Seeker and Nightingale." He heard the cell door screech open. Unknown arms grabbed him roughly and pulled him out of the cell, dragging him to the center of the room.

In his peripheral vision, Quen noted five guards, their weapons at the ready as they waited.

As Quen sat on the floor, he turned his left palm upward, gasping silently to himself. A ragged gash on the palm of his hand was leaking intense green light. He could see that the nerves on his uncovered hand bulged with the faint green glow from the scar, the network of green lines crawling up his hand like spider webs. The protrusion of his nerves could be felt on his shoulder under his clothes. It was a strange feeling to be able to feel the detail of the weave of his coat.

The mark on his hand blazed in pain again and the elf shouted, biting his lower lip, wincing at the intense spasms that went through his arm. He heard the guards shift nervously, the grip on their weapons growing tighter. Two drew their swords and pointed them at the elf in warning.

Quen's heart thumped against his chest rapidly. What was going on? What was happening to him?

The clanging of the metal door drew the elf's attention back to the room. In the doorway stood two women. One of them had short black hair and a braid wrapped around like a circlet, and a scar on the edge of the left side of her cheek. The other woman had a fair face with neck-length reddish hair covered by her cowl. The guards sheathed their swords and left the room, leaving the two human women alone with Quen.

As the black-haired woman circled Quen, she spoke aloud, her tone harsh and pointed. "Tell me why we shouldn't just kill you right now?"

Quen blinked at the human in confusion, unsure how to reply. The woman sneered and continued in her interrogation. "The Conclave is destroyed." Quen shot his head up, and his eyes widened. "Everyone who attended is dead."

"...Dead…?" The elf shook slightly. His mind immediately went to the three who had visited his clan weeks ago. Although he was originally sent by his clan's Keeper as a spy while being a hired hand for the Trevelyan noble, he had warmed to their company. The last night the group spent together before they reached Haven village to head to the Sacred Temple, they each confessed aloud what they had hoped the meeting would bring.

Overall, their wishes had been for peace-some kind of level ground that meant the end of the civil war between Mages and Templars. Little as the four had in common, they shared a longing for, if not, perfect harmony, at least an end to the worst ravages of war. The various factions might never reconcile, but perhaps they could be brought to tolerate each other. They had hoped to be together still as friends in this dream.

That dream would never come true now.

"Yes. Dead. The Divine included." The hooded human woman spoke, eyeing Quen with a sharp gaze.

Divine Justinia. Eugen Trevelyan had explained who she was to Quen when he asked, being a Dalish elf often cut off from most of human society. She was the head of the Chantry whom the rest of the followers looked up to for advice.

Quen himself did not believe in the Chantry's faith, but if this Divine could help petition for peace at the Conclave, and if the masses of people (as the Chantry was, in fact, the major religion of Thedas) could listen to her word, he was with her.

And now she was dead too.

"Everyone perished in the explosion. All but you." The black-haired woman stopped in front of Quen and jabbed her finger accusingly at him.

The gears in Quen's mind turned rapidly, concluding. "You think I did it."

He yelped as the woman forcefully grabbed his left wrist in the shackles and held it up to his face. The nerves all along his arm reacted violently, causing him to grit his teeth, hissing as his sharp canines cut his lip. The mark blazed in a fiery fury.

"Explain this!"

"I don't know!" He yanked his arm back (wincing as pulling it away stimulated the nerves even more) and cradled it carefully against his chest; the glow from the mark refusing to dim.

"What do you mean you do not know?" The hooded woman shifted and walked the opposite way of her acquaintance in circling Quen.

"I don't know what it is-or how it got there." Quen gasped, his face burning from the agony of the mark's violent aches. Sweat dripped from his forehead and down the bridge of his nose, his breath coming out in rapid pants against the cold air.

He was then suddenly grabbed at the collar by the black-haired woman, her eyes burning in anger. "You're lying!"

His vision went pinkish red. Letting out a low growl, he snarled. "Do not...TOUCH ME!" Shoving her back harshly, he bared his teeth at the woman. His hands twitched-he wished he wasn't shackled so he could fight back.

The black-haired woman reached for the sword on her belt in retaliation but was backed off by the hooded one. "We need him, Cassandra!" She said sternly.

Cassandra scoffed, withdrawing her hand from her sword hilt. "Fine. You deal with him then."

As the two looked back at Quen, the hooded woman knelt at the elf's level to get a closer look at his face.

Quen glared at the woman, still apprehensive of Cassandra-he was unsure what this other woman would do to try and accuse him. "I don't know what happened!" He spat, clearly worked up over the whole situation. "My friends are dead and I don't know why-and you are acting as though it's my fault?! I don't even know what this mark on my hand is-" Looking away from Leliana, he slumped his head forward. "I can't believe it...all those people...dead…"

Waiting for the young man to calm down finally, the hooded woman spoke in a calm, but controlled, manner. "What do you remember?"

The elf tried to recollect what fragments of memory he had. "I was...running. Things were chasing me, and then...a woman?"

"A woman?" She raised an eyebrow.

"She...reached out to me...but then…" Shaking his head in confusion at the rest of his memories, he slowly looked back at the red-haired woman. "What's going on?"

As she opened her mouth to speak, Cassandra interrupted her. "Perhaps it is better if I show you. Leliana, you go to the forward camp while I take him to Solas and Varric at the Rift."

Bowing her head, Leliana left the two in the cells. Cassandra strode forward, helping Quen to his feet. Switching out his shackles for a simple rope that bound his wrists together, she then led him up the stairs and through a dark room; Quen noted to himself that he was in the dungeon basement of the Chantry of Haven, judging by the Andrastian tapestry that hung upon the walls of the long room-he had also followed Trevelyan into this building before they left to climb the mountain to the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

Exiting the building through the large wooden double doors, Quen raised his arms at the sudden bright green light in the night sky. His mouth fell open at the sight of the green spire that rose high above the mountain tops. Giant chunks of rock circled the spire that cut into the sky itself.

"We call it "The Breach"." Quen glanced back at Cassandra as she continued. "It's a massive rift into the Fade, summoning demons from it. It grows larger with each passing hour." She turned to him. "It is not the only such rift. Just the largest. Various smaller versions are scattered across Thedas. All of which were caused by the explosion at the Conclave."

Quirking an eyebrow, Quen eyed the woman. "How can an explosion do that?"

Snow fell around the two of them. "We do not know. Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world." As she spoke, the Breach crackled with more energy-the mark on Quen's hand responded in turn, causing the elf to fall to his knees, tears fell from his face as he tried to handle the pain before collapsing on his side. Cassandra bent down to help him to his feet, her eyes showing a hint of sympathy. "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads...and it is killing you." Staring into the woman's eyes as the pain subsided, Quen saw this time that Cassandra meant well to him. "Solas seems convinced that this mark of yours may be the key to stopping all of this-but there isn't much time. We don't even know if it will close the Breach or not. It is our only chance however-and yours."

Quen let out a strained chuckle. "Considering the situation, do you still really think I did this? And have myself end up like this as a consequence?" He gestured to his left arm. Although he couldn't see it, he could feel the green nerves stretching up his cheek.

"Perhaps not intentionally- and even if you're not the one responsible-someone IS. You are just our only suspect at the moment." Cassandra inclined her head toward the Breach. "You wish to prove your innocence? This is the only way."

Quen went silent, thinking to himself. What choice did he have?

"Be strong, little one, for what is to come." What did that mean? Did that vision of his mother mean this?

Thedas was in chaos. He was pretty certain he didn't start this mess but if he was the only one at the moment who could fix it-he would.

"Be strong."

Those words echoed through him as he took a deep breath and nodded to Cassandra. "I understand. I will do what I can-whatever it takes."

Smiling in acknowledgment, Cassandra led him through Haven, the two of them avoiding the scrutinizing glares of the villagers who were held back by soldiers once they saw the elf.

As soon as the two were a distance from the village, Cassandra undid the binds on Quen's wrists. "The people are distraught over the death of the Divine and many are calling for your head. I can ensure a trial for you, but I can promise no more." Allowing the elf to have a moment to rub his wrists, she beckoned him along. "Come. It is not far."

The two headed up the hill, they stopped as the Breach pulsed faster, making Quen cry out, doubling over from the sudden sharp burning pain. As Cassandra pulled him to his feet a second time, she stared at his face. "Strange…" She noted. "The symptoms observed while you were unconscious were all associated with the green hue of the mark-but a pink glow keeps flickering around your left eye when the mark is reacting as you're awake...perhaps Solas will have an explanation."

"How...did I survive...the blast?" Cassandra looked back at Quen as he gasped out the words, the pink glow around his eye subsiding.

"They said you...stepped out of a rift, then fell unconscious." Quen stared at her like the woman had just grown two heads. If he had come out of a rift-that meant he had to have come out of the Fade. He had physically been in the Fade and he wasn't even a mage-even mages weren't able to perform such a feat. How was that possible? Cassandra ignored his questioning look and continued. "They saw a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was though…" Shrugging, she continued, Quen trailing after her.

As the two headed to the Breach, the spire shot out bolts of green energy nearby. Quen winced at the spasming shock in his arm that rhythmically synced up with the pulse of the rift.

Shhng! Hearing a sword being drawn, he watched Cassandra pull off her shield off her back, getting into a stance. "Stay here." She hissed before moving forward.

Quen watched as the ground where the bolt struck summoned a small group of demons. Cassandra ran into the group, gathering their attention as she struck back, taking the demons down one by one.

Quen fell backward when the Breach burst out another bolt, this time landing in front of him. As a pair of elongated demon hands burst from the miasma left behind by the bolt, he tried to call out to the woman-but she was too busy trying to fight off the rest of the demons. Scrambling to his feet, Quen jerked his head around in search of a weapon. He had not noticed much earlier upon hurrying up the mountain, but now he saw the bodies of other soldiers-those who tried to fight off demons from the rifts, he supposed.

The terror demon leaped out of the miasma, focusing its multitude of eyes on the elf, letting out a horrifying screech from its elongated maw before lunging at Quen. The elf rolled out of the demon's attack towards one of the soldier corpses, immediately reaching for a set of daggers that had fallen from the grip of one who had their chest run through earlier.

Ignoring his swollen nerves as he held the daggers with a tight grip, he turned to face the demon that started to stalk forward to him. Narrowing his eyes, he waited for the skeletal creature to lunge again, this time jumping to the side and ramming his daggers into the ribcage of the monster. Tearing the blades from the side of the monster as it let out a shriek, he twisted away from a swipe of one of its arms, striking back by thrusting the dagger through the terror demon's face. The creature gurgled before crumpling to the ground and dissipating into a green mist, leaving behind an ashy residue.

Quen breathed deeply. Turning around, he came face-first against the tip of Cassandra's sword. "Drop your weapon. Now." She growled at him.

The elf glared back. "Did you not see that demon attack me?" He waved at the pile of debris behind him where the terror demon had died. "If I'm going to have to follow you through a terrain full of monsters, it would be nice to have the reassurance that I can defend myself!"

Cassandra furrowed her brow at the accusation of not doing her job properly but stopped herself from lashing back at the elf. Sighing, she sheathed her sword. "You're right. I cannot always protect you." Nodding at him to keep the blades, she continued up the mountain path in front of them before pausing and glancing back. "I should remember you did agree to come willingly. My apologies."

Taken aback by the woman's sincere apology, Quen looked away, flushed by his outburst. "It's okay. Let's keep going."

Making their way up the mountain, the two encountered one of the small rifts Cassandra had mentioned. Demons surrounded the small green crack in the air. A group of soldiers were fighting them off as Quen and Cassandra ran in to help.

As Quen took down one of the many demons, he watched a dwarf of the group load up an interesting-looking crossbow. "Heads up, Chuckles!" the dwarf shouted, firing a bolt at one of the monsters that was about to attack a bald elven mage.

The elf mage noticed Cassandra, then drew his gaze to Quen. He stabbed the end of his staff into the earth and the last of the oncoming demons' legs were suddenly encased in ice as the soldiers descended upon them. The bald elf ran towards Quen, quickly snatching his left arm.

Quen dropped his daggers as he was forcefully dragged to the rift. "Hurry! Before more come through!" The bald elf shouted, shoving Quen's hand up against the green scar in the air.

The pain intensified within seconds as the mark on Quen's palm sparked out against the rift. Quen screamed, black and white dots danced around his vision, the swollen nerves flaring up and stretching across his face, his left eye sparking with the pink glow more furiously this time. His entire body felt like it was being burned alive-he immediately blacked out from the pain, unable to take anymore.

A harsh slap to the cheek recalled Quen back to the world of the living quickly. Cassandra was by his side with her palm raised to smack his face once again. Seeing him regain consciousness, she sighed with relief, getting back up. "Solas, why did the Mark react like that?" She turned to the elven mage.

Solas, the bald elf had his arms crossed. "It appears that his body is unable to handle this strange magic even more than I thought. I do not know why, but something in him is rejecting the magic-thus it is fighting back and attempting to consume him." He knelt by Quen's side. "Are you alright?"

Quen noticed that the rift was no longer there. "What did you do?"

Grimacing, Solas held out his hand to Quen, who took it graciously. "I did nothing. You closed the rift. The credit is yours." He hauled Quen to his feet.

"I did...that?" Quen looked back at where the scar used to be in the air, only a very faint green hue remained where it once was.

"Yes." Solas nodded. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that, though. I wish I could figure out why it is reacting like this to your body-what I have gathered so far is that whatever magic was used to open the Breach was the same magic that placed that mark upon your hand." The mage gestured to Quen's hand, who in turn, held it up for him to examine. A soft glow of soothing healing magic flowed from Solas's palms as he inspected the mark and nerves on Quen's palm. "Strange...even though you are not a mage, such magic as this is having such an aggressive effect on you." Stepping back, he brought his hand to his chin in thought. "We must be careful using it too often then-too much strain could kill you."

"Well, that's reassuring." The dwarf called out, adjusting his coat cuffs. "The key to closing the big green thing in the sky is fragile as a skittish nug in a pen with a fennec." Cassandra let out a disgusted noise to the dwarf as he joined the three of them. "Varric Tethras: Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong, at your service." The dwarf bowed; he had an air about him that made Quen relax and feel comfortable in his presence.

Quen bowed back to the dwarf. "Quen Lavellan."

It felt nice saying his clan's name out loud; it was a warm reminder of the new family he and his sister had received when the two of them joined the clan after the incidents from their former. Ten years before, Quen and his sister had no family name to claim for their own. The two were seen as outcasts by their clan-just like their mother, who lacked Vallaslin- even though their father had been the Keeper's First. Clan Lavellan welcomed the two with open arms, their pasts of no matter to the clan as they helped give the two young elves a sense of identity.

"I see you have already met the Lady Seeker." Varric gestured to Cassandra, who let out another disgusted noise in reply. "And of course, there is Solas, whose name the Lady Seeker has probably said enough times to drill it into your head." Solas bowed to Quen. "He is an apostate mage. Not from a circle-or any Dalish clan if you were wondering about the lack of markings on his face."

Solas smiled at the dwarf. "Technically, all mages are apostates now, given the current circumstances." He looked at Quen. "I came here to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed-regardless of origin."

Quen agreed with Solas's words. It did not matter who they were originally, at the current state of the world, everyone needed to work together.

Varric chimed in once more. "Chuckles here also had been attempting to keep the mark from killing you while you were asleep."

Chuckling (no wonder the dwarf gave him that nickname), Solas had a sad look in his eyes. "Unfortunately I was not able to do much. My magic was able to lessen the pains from the mark but it is missing something-something to help stabilize the part of your body that is rejecting it." He looked back at Quen with a solemn face. "Forgive me, I wish I could do more."

Quen knew that dark undertone in those words: the mark was killing him quickly. It would be a miracle if he managed to live by the end of this day-if closing the Breach didn't kill him first. Seeing how his body reacted to such a small rift, Quen dreaded the inevitable task of sealing the big one itself.

But what choice did he have? He thought back to the words his mother whispered to him in the vision.

Be strong.

If he did nothing, he would die anyway. If at least trying to close the Breach meant saving the world (who would have thought he would end up in a position like this anyway?), it was the least he could do.

Quen thought of his sister. He couldn't lose her. Not like how they both lost their mother and father.

He thought of his three friends who perished in the Conclave. If they had survived-if at least one of them did-and was in his place, what would they have done?

Would Eugen Trevelyn be looked upon with less disdain because he was a human nobleman?

Would Carlyn Cadash or Roshan Adaar be spitted like him for not being human? Especially Roshan being a mage. How would that have ended up?

Quen chuckled inwardly to himself. Was this punishment by the Creators for what he had done many years ago? Was this their way of letting him finally repent for the crimes he committed?

His mind was made up. No matter what happened, he would do what he could. As long as his sister and clan family would be safe.

"It's alright, your attempts to help are much appreciated." Solas beamed in recognition at Quen's praise.

"Enough loitering. We can talk more along the way." Cassandra huffed, stomping ahead of the three men. Varric shrugged and followed.

The first thing Quen encountered at the Forward camp was a very angry man garbed in red-and-white Chantry robes, arguing with Leliana over a table with a map. The moment the man saw Quen, he sneered, shaking his fist at the elf. "Lady Seeker! As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I had ordered you to take this damned-knife ear criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution! Why have you not done so?!"

Quen was about to retort back to the annoying Shemlen when Cassandra stomped forward, glaring back at the man. "'Order me'? You're a glorified clerk, Roderick! I have brought this man here to deal with the Breach, we have no time for your damned orders!"

The man, Roderick, as Cassandra called him, had his face turn red. "Why you-you're a damned thug! I don't care if you supposedly serve the Chantry, how dare you!"

Cassandra scoffed, crossing her arms. "Leliana and I serve the Most Holy, Chancellor." She added a growl at the end of her words.

"The Divine is dead! Since those who would have best elected to be her replacement are also dead from the Conclave, the authority of dealing with this criminal falls under my jurisdiction!"

Leliana interjected Roderick's rambling. "YOU do not have command here."

Roderick sputtered at the red-head. "Oh, I suppose you, Nightingale, do? You, the Lady Seeker, AND Divine Justinia have already caused enough trouble! I will not have any more of it!"

Quen had just about enough with the three bickering in front of him. (Solas and Varric were staying far back from the others, clearly not wanting a part of the argument.) "Enough!" He pushed forward to the center of the three. "This is not the time to argue!" Quen flung his hand to the sky, glaring back at the Grand Chancellor. "There is an obvious giant problem in the sky that is a clear threat to Thedas-and you want to debate about religious politics?!" He slammed his hand on the table, startling everyone. "Everyone's lives are at stake and the first thing that comes to mind to you is whether or not you're the current leader of the damned Chantry and whether or not to execute me?! Will killing me solve the Breach? -NO! Think of your damn priorities!"

Roderick stared at Quen in shock. How dare this knifed-eared elf talk back to him in such a way?

"He is right," Leliana spoke up. "We are here to try and fix the Breach."

Quen thanked Leliana before returning his attention to Roderick. "You can bicker about my damn fate AFTER this is dealt with. Right now, I am here to give whatever help I can." Focusing back on Cassandra, he continued. "Now, since we're here, what is your plan to get up there?"

xoxoxo

Cassandra had offered two choices to reach the fallen temple where the Breach stood: charge in with the soldiers or take the mountain path while the soldiers distracted the demons down below in the valley. Quen quickly chose the latter after hearing Leliana worriedly mention not hearing back from her scouts from the mountains. His decision had proved to have been a wise choice. The band of four came across the scouts and rescued them from the demons that had surrounded them from the open rift. The scouts thanked him profusely (after he had blacked out from closing said rift and had to be slapped awake by Cassandra again) before Varric directed them back down the mountain to join the rest of the soldiers at the mountain valley. Solas helped Quen stand upright and lent him an arm for support as they continued to make their way to the temple.

xoxoxo

Leliana met up with the group at the temple, the soldiers in tow.

The sight of the destroyed building made Quen's stomach turn in knots. Burnt bodies were strewn across the ground, the sickly smell of seared flesh still present in the air.

They moved forward into the ruins, to the source of the Breach. Quen gasped at the sight of it.

"Now is the hour of our victory." A strange voice spoke out as the group drew closer to the Breach. Solas mentioned something about the Fade showing echoed remnants of the past. As he said this, the rift formed two hazy figures, one who was too clouded in black smoke to make out.

"Bring forth the sacrifice." The clouded figure boomed, the source of the strange voice.

The other figure was an elderly woman garbed in high-ranking chantry robes; her arms were held in place by wisps of magic as she cried for help. Cassandra gasped at the sight of her. "Most Holy!"

The sound of a door slamming open drew the Divine and the mysterious figure's attention to the side. A transparent figure of Eugen ran in with his sword and shield drawn. The man was followed by a Fade remnant of Quen, Carlyn, and Roshan, each having their weapons out as well.

"What's going on here?!" Eugen demanded.

Justinia looked at the four. "Run! Warn the others!"

A bright light burst from the memory and the vision was gone. Quen looked back at the Breach dumbfounded.

How did he not remember that?

Cassandra spoke, drawing his attention back. "Most Holy called out to you and your friends." She looked at him. "The look on your face tells me that you do not remember this."

"Nevertheless," Solas stepped forward. "We must close the Breach. It is temporarily closed at the moment." He turned to Quen. "If we are to seal it, we must open it. Doing so though will probably attract the attention of whatever is on the other side."

"And that means demons." Varric sighed. "At least Bianca will be happy." With a flick of his wrist, his crossbow was loaded and ready. "Alright Frosty," He gestured to Quen. "Do your magic stuff."

Quen nodded. He then looked at Leliana and Cassandra. "If I don't make it through this, please tell my clan what happened." Leliana solemnly nodded back before turning her attention to ready the soldiers in position. Quen steadied himself at the Breach and lifted his arm.

The Rift convulsed, a beam striking back at the mark. Despite feeling dizzy, Quen forced himself not to black out once again, his legs shaking to keep his body upright.

Once again, he heard a voice coming from the rift, this time the voice of a young girl.

"Eirai, the fissure is opening!"

The Breach exploded, shoving four beams of light out - one of them headed towards Quen and collided with him, knocking him down to the ground, his daggers dropped into the dirt on either side of him. He heard Varric call out to him.

Furrowing his brow, he slowly opened his eyes to see who was pressing weight onto him.

It was a girl. With light blue hair, black cat ears, and a tail.

Hearing the sounds of groaning, he snapped his head back up. Three other girls were lying in the dirt and rubble. One had light green hair in two messy pigtails with a giant fluffy brown squirrel tail; a giant axe lay beside her. The other had light purple hair put up in a tight bun with giant white rabbit ears; and a bow clutched in her hand but there was no quiver on her back. The final girl was the most bizarre, with red horn-like bat wings contrasting her short silver-white hair. She bore a dark horse-like tail, and two scythe-shaped feathered blades were clenched tightly in each gauntleted hand. A staff lay on the ground in front of Quen-he assumed it belonged to the girl curled up in his lap.

Whimpering, the girl sat upright, her light purple eyes blinking in confusion. She looked Quen over from head to toe, then focused her attention on his left hand.

Looking at the Breach, he saw the glowing figure of the woman in the Fade that he had reached out to earlier. Judging by Cassandra's gasp behind him, he knew he wasn't hallucinating.

The being then vanished. Letting out a breath of disbelief, Quen looked back at the girl. "By the Creators…who are you?" What connection did she and the other three have with the luminescent woman from the Fade?

The cat-eared girl looked back at Quen and spoke with the same voice that called out from the rift before it exploded. "I…" Before she could finish, the Breach shot out more energy (Quen winced as the mark reacted as well-though strangely enough, the pain wasn't so bad this time). A pride demon materialized in the air, landing on the ground with a loud thud, and letting out a roar before charging at Quen and the girl.

xoxoxo

The Goddess smiled to herself as she watched from the void, the wheels of fate linking with one another.

Two who were still young and learning, the anxiety hidden behind their naive masks

Two who suffered a great deal of hardship; both burying their darkest secrets from their forgotten pasts

And one who was like each of these four, learning to survive, their decisions are not always the best but they tried to do what was right.

Even so, the anger within them reminded the Goddess of her husband. How his rage from grief hurt those around him.

But that's what the other four were for. To help this one. To heal this one's pain while having theirs mended as well.

She was not the only one to know of this. Others were aware of these events that were to come. She knew how each of them, including herself, played a part in the destinies of these five.

Now, it was time to see how it all unfolded.

There are many special odd characters I have in this story that are very important.
Who is this Goddess?
Who is this dwarf who seemingly can listen to spirits?
What is with Quen's mother?
And much more I won't point out but you may have noticed them anyways. This is more than just a simple crossover of having 4 Elins coming to the Dragon Age world to help out.