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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight	By : Serena_Hawke-Theirin Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 13108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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10:80 Raven

"Hurry up with those tomes, Lizette. The ship will be departing soon, and you know that fool captain said he wouldn't wait for us."

Sister Lizette dropped another armload of heavy books into the small handcart and blew at her flaxen bangs. Her arms and back ached from carrying the many rows of texts from their shelves to the wheeled basket. Although the palace in Denerim's underground storerooms were relatively cool, the Chantry sister was still sweating like a roasting nug.

Sister Antonia had been no help at all. Instead of working with Lizette to get the job completed faster, the older woman opted to stand in the doorway and bark orders at her young companion. It wasn't as if Antonia was elderly and incapable of helping. She was just plain lazy.

"I'm moving as fast as I can," Lizette said in her sweetest, sing-song voice before adding, "You fat cow," under her breath.

"What was that?" the older Sister asked.

Lizette shook her head with a simper, causing her long blonde braid to slide back and forth across her right shoulder. "Nothing," she lied. "I didn't say anything."

"Just hurry," Antonia commanded with a thick Antivan accent and a scowl of disapproval. "Alright?"

The young Sister didn't bother to answer the rhetorical question. It wasn't as if Antonia cared to hear anything she had to say anyhow. Sweet Maker, Lizette hated being sent on assignments with that wretched woman. Some days she wished she would have just married that smith's son like her father had wanted. Instead, she yearned for more scholarly pursuits. She wasn't feeling very scholarly at the moment though, that was for certain.

Against her parents' wishes, Lizette joined the Chantry when she was nineteen. As long as she could remember, it had been her dream to become the next Genitivi. She wanted to discover new facts and lore about Thedas and its people. The Dragon Age held a particular fascination for her, yet very little had been written about the legends of that time outside of some books penned by a surface dwarf. She was especially interested in learning more about the details of the Fifth Blight, the Mage-Templar War, and the Inquisition. She grew up reading Varric Tethras's accounts of those events, but she always felt there was more to those stories.

So far, however, Lizette's discoveries had been limited to making notes on religious texts and rearranging shelves in Chantry libraries. Sure, she had gotten to travel many places in the world, but most of that time was spent inside lamp-lit rooms moving dusty old tomes. The castle's storage wasn't much different than anywhere else the Sister had visited, except it was a bit cooler and darker. At least it was dry, probably as a result of a spell of some sort used to protect the books. That was a lot better than some of the Chantry storerooms they had visited where the dampness from being underground had absolutely ruined the texts kept within their confines.

As Lizette grabbed the final armful, she couldn't help but wonder why King Alexander had decided to lend the personal records of his ancestors to the Chantry. The old palace had fallen into severe disrepair and was set to be rebuilt, but surely the tomes could have been moved to another location within Ferelden during the construction. Perhaps the king thought the books held knowledge the Chantry needed to document. Not much had been recorded about the Ferelden monarchy since the Fifth Blight. The Chantry's records on the Theirin family after 9:30 Dragon were spotty at best.

"Aren't you finished yet?" Antonia huffed.

Lizette dumped the last few tomes into the cart. "Yes, this should be all of them."

The older Sister heaved a perturbed sigh as she pointed to a high shelf on the right. "And what about those?"

Lizette peered up and spotted four large, leather-bound books along with several slightly thinner texts. She grimaced and waggled her head. How in the Maker's name had she missed all those? She grabbed the long ladder propped up next to the door and maneuvered it over to the other side of the room.

Antonia harrumphed. "You know what? It's nearly dusk and I am tired of waiting for you." She grabbed the handle of the pushcart. "I am going to take these to the staircase and find some servants to haul them up and then out to the ship. If you are not there by the time the captain is ready to depart, then I guess you will simply have to find your own way back to Val Royeaux."

The young Sister blew at her bangs again as she began to scale the ladder. "I'll just be another few minutes, Antonia."

The older woman waved her hand in dismissal. "Take your time, Lizette, you always do. But I am leaving."

With that, Antonia gave the cart a shove and exited the room. Lizette hurried as quickly as she could to retrieve the books, but the ladder was wobbly and her fear of heights made her ascension a bit slower than it probably should have been. The first book the Sister grabbed was even heavier than it looked, and she nearly dropped it when she lost her balance. Somehow, she managed to maintain both her equilibrium and her grip on the tome, but had to stop for a few moments to catch her breath and calm the racing of her heart.

While she was trying to steady herself, Lizette happened to glance at the front cover of the text.

The True Tale of the Fifth Blight by Garrett Malcolm Hawke

Sweet Maker, it was exactly what Lizette had been looking for, but who was Garrett Malcolm Hawke? Another novelist? A scholar of some sort?

Hawke…Where have I…

Hawke was the surname of the Champion of Kirkwall, the one from Master Tethras's tale. But Hawke was a woman. Who was this man? The Sister placed the book on a lower shelf and grabbed the next.

The Battle of Kirkwall by Garrett Malcolm Hawke. She laid that tome on the first and picked up another. The Inquisition by Garrett Malcolm Hawke.

Lizette couldn't stop the girlish giggle that escaped her lips. Those books could hold the answers to questions she had wondered about most of her life. She had to read them. She had to know the truth. Everything she had worked for over the past five years-the commitment to a religion she really didn't believe in, the boring jobs, kissing Antonia's ass-they all led her to that storage room and those precious tomes.

She returned the book she held to its shelf and checked the small coin purse at her waist. Three gold sovereigns, twelve silver, and five copper. It was her life's savings, money she earned before taking her vows and kept hidden from the greedy hands of the Chantry. After all, her father always told her to have a backup plan, just in case things didn't work out the way she wanted. So many times over the years Lizette considered using that coin to start a new life, but she just couldn't give up on her dream. Now, it seemed, that her persistence had finally paid off. Let Antonia leave and go back to Val Royeaux with the rest of the tomes, she didn't care. She had what she wanted.

Carefully, Lizette descended the ladder with the first of the books. She placed it gingerly on the floor before clambering back up the rungs. She repeated the process until all of the texts were safely on the ground, then went to find a servant to deliver them to the Gnawed Noble Tavern and Inn which was located in Denerim's Market District.

While the servants gathered the books, Lizette went on ahead to the inn and paid for a room for a week. It cost her twenty-five silver, but she didn't mind. It was worth it every coin to be able to read and study in peace. When she finished, she would return the books to the king. She was no thief, after all. She just wanted the chance to learn the truth before the Chantry got hold of the story and changed everything to fit its own agenda.

The young Sister waited with nervous anticipation for what seemed like hours before she heard the knock she had been waiting for. The sound was music to her ears. She opened the door to four soldiers clad in the uniforms of the royal family's personal guard. At first, Lizette thought she was going to be arrested, but then she noticed they were carrying the books she was waiting for. The first three men piled the tomes upon the small worn table next to the bed and gave her a respectful nod as they exited the room.

The last one handed her the text he carried and bowed. "King Alexander sends his regards, Sister. He has ordered that the cost of your room and your meals be billed to him, and only asks that you return the tomes in the condition you found them."

Lizette shook her head with confusion. "But…why?"

"The king would like for someone in the Chantry to know the truth," he replied. "Someone who will not hide it from the rest of the world. He hopes that you will be that person."

She nodded. "Of course, but why in the Maker's name would the Chantry want to conceal the contents of these books."

"Let's just say the history of the Ferelden monarchy is…" The soldier flashed an impish grin. "Interesting." He flourished another bow. "Good evening to you, Sister."

The soldier pivoted on his heel with one sharp, crisp motion and marched out of the room, closing the door behind him as he went. The moment Lizette heard the click of catch, she hurried over and turned the bolt. She couldn't wait to get her hands on those books, especially after hearing the soldier's words. Once the lock was secure, she rushed to the table, found The Tale of the Fifth Blight, and cracked it open. As she made herself comfortable on the bed, she read the foreword.

7th of Guardian, 9:83 Dragon

There has been a great deal of speculation surrounding the events of the first half of the Dragon Age. I think some of those who were actually present at the time even question whether or not their memory fails them in regards to what they saw and the stories that have been told. My memory and the memories of my family who still survive in this world, however, remain intact and unquestioning.

The first thing I would like to say is that Varric Tethras, the dwarf who penned the tales of the Warden, the Champion, and the Inquisitor, was a very dear friend of mine for many years, right up until the day he passed. He was a good man, but he was also a good liar. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the books he wrote. They were incredible works of fiction.

To this day, I am unsure why he wrote the stories the way he did. I could never get a straight answer from him regarding that subject, but I'm not sure anyone ever got a straight answer from Varric about anything he didn't wish to reveal, especially when it came to his tall tales. It could be that he was attempting to protect the identity of some of those involved, or it could be that he thought his version just made for better yarns. Either way, I feel it is finally time for the truth to be told. The complete truth.

I am now an old man, older than I ever imagined I would be. I have made many friends throughout this journey, and I have loved and been given more love than I ever thought was humanly possible. I have witnessed both the best and the worst humanity has to offer and I have experienced adventures most only dream about. It's been an amazing life, but I have grown weary. I miss those who have crossed to the other side of the Veil before me-Doc, Gabs, Fenris, Miri, and Alistair. I have felt their losses to the very depths of my soul. And although I know those I will leave behind will mourn my passing just as I mourned my lost loved ones, I believe it is finally time to lay my burdens down.

I thought about simply leaving behind my journals to be pored over by scholars many years after my bones have been turned to ash by the pyre, but I think those involved deserve more than that. With their sacrifice and service, they have earned the right to have their stories told in a way that will honor their memories and their lives. Their thoughts and deeds may not always be pretty, but they are most definitely real.

And so, gentle readers, as my final act of gratitude for those who have meant the world to me, I give you the true stories of the heroes of Thedas. I am only glad I got to be a part of their tales and their lives.

-Garrett Malcolm Hawke-Theirin; Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste, King Consort of Ferelden, Teyrn of Gwaren, Commodore of the Ferelden Navy, a Hero of Ferelden, Former Captain of Yavana's Call, Husband, Father, Grandfather

A lot of titles for an old pirate. Thanks husband. You're still a prat, but I will always love you.
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The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight