A Match to Tinder | By : Anesor Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 4095 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age 2, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Aldera is my character, as are a few new ones. |
-- The Urn of Sacred Ashes
Hawke: My throat was tight as Anders opened the Urn. I could see that Merrill was watching with interest and Sebastian was watching with a less generous opinion. I hoped and prayed that this would help Anders. I wasn't as sure if Andraste or the Maker were present or they would grant him mercy and healing as I hoped. I was afraid that he would simply die, that paying with his life was the only... justice for what he'd done. That would also mean that I was wrong to think that the cruel treatment of mages over the ages was a “provocation” and at some point defense, escape, and suffering had to end. I would not have chosen destroying the Chantry of Kirkwall as he did, there were too many innocents. This also gave the Chantry so many fresh martyrs, erasing the mage martyrs from the Gallows. But I understood his frustration at trying for so long for even small changes when none were granted. At some point change had to come and their unwillingness to treat mages as humans had to be exposed. If Anders was to be damned for wanting a better world, I would be damned too. Maybe I just selfishly didn't want to lose him. Anders looked at me after he had seen inside the Urn: fear, hope and farewell in his eyes. Then he took a pinch and ate it. He reacted to it immediately, falling back with his body jerking like he was hit by lightning. Then he collapsed like a corpse and was still. Dropping down beside him, I shouted his name even as his head rolled to the side. I couldn't see any breathing. Sebastian had begun speaking. “...wicked hearts on blacken'd wings does deceit take flight, the First of My children, lost to night.” I swung around, expecting him to be smug or triumphant, but his face had more sorrow than I ever expected. “He gave himself to the Maker's judgment. That was what I demanded, Hawke.” Sebastian stated without emotion. Still angry because he was part of what drove Anders to what he did, I taunted him. “Shouldn't you give yourself too? You hired an assassin to hunt the murderers of your family, and then the ones who ordered it. What kind of faith is that? You are willing to raze an entire city of innocents to get at us. How many would have died if we stayed in our homes? They would have been defending their city from your conquering Starkhaven army. Do you even know how many live in Kirkwall, or how many children would have lost their parents in that battle? “You wanted to see the Urn, how free of sin and error do you think you are?” I didn't think he was superior to Anders in any way, he was just luckier in birth. “Hawke!” Merrill interrupted the growing argument. “He's still breathing.” Ignoring Sebastian, I turned back to Anders. I'd been sure he'd died, especially when my shouting at Sebastian caused no response. I looked at him and after what seemed forever, saw the shallowest of breaths. “Anders, love, please come back...” There was no reaction. My next panicked thought was that he was Tranquil now, and would wake as they must have after having their souls castrated from the Fade and whatever is beyond it. A hand gripped my shoulder and I looked up at Merrill. She said gently, “Aldera, he lives. That cup is powerful and I believe he has left himself. He looks like he did when the Keeper sent you and Isabela to find the somniari in the Fade.” That didn't make me feel any better, as Marethari was gone and Merrill couldn't explain much then. “So we can't just wake him, can we?” I asked with growing dread. Merrill shook her head. “No, not if his mind is still in there. I'm sorry, the Keeper had not taught me much of what little had survived of that lore. I think these ashes have sent Anders into the Beyond.” Hope grabbed my voice. “Can I go after him if I use the Ashes? We helped Feynriel get free of those demons before.” “It will not be that simple, lethallan. Anders walks the paths of the Fade without the guidance of the Creator, Falon'Din. He is already part of the Fade, as a mage and because of his spirit. The Keeper's ceremony was akin to a hunter locating the injured fawn by its cries.” Merrill looked at the Urn. “A mage has some level of control in the Fade, and you could never locate him on your own, not even if you were a mage.” “Can you help me, Merrill?” I brushed one of Anders' tiny braids off his face. It had been days before Marethari had located me for the boy's rescue, and I'd always suspected that they had tried Feynriel's mother first. She looked worried. “I know the principles, but I do not know all, nor do I have the materials. I heard her prayers to Falon'Din that day as she cast that ceremony for each of you. I can attempt to do what I remember, but I will not be able to accompany you.” I worried a little at that, aside from even my fear for Anders. Merrill had become a bedrock of my life, in many ways like Bethany. “The apostate still lives.” Sebastian didn't sound like he believed what he was saying. How he reconciled his expectations with the fact that Anders still lived, wasn't really my problem right now. Well, it was because I didn't want him deciding that Anders still deserved to die. The truce-oath might be considered over now. That is the loophole I should have seen, and he had helped us get here. “Yes. It looks like he has been trapped like the boy, Feynriel,” I said carefully. Merrill and I could protect Anders' body, but I was not sure Merrill could protect both Anders and I, and do her ceremony. I'd never seen any clear sign that he dreamed as he slept, and he was so still now. “Trapped, or facing judgment as he should?” Sebastian asked doubtfully. “The Maker's mercy may be that he never returns.” “We cannot know when we are outside the Beyond. It is a dangerous place for us to travel, even in our dreams every night,” Merrill said gravely. Crossing his arms, Sebastian told us, “Then I will go. Judgment will not be denied.” I exchanged glances with Merrill, this way the danger should always have two of us to watch over, I hoped. Merrill said to Sebastian, “If you believe that this may be the judgment of your prophet, perhaps you should.” That prodded him and he angrily marched to the altar. More carefully he took a pinch and seemed to pray before he ate it. Dropping down as Merrill began to chant, he looked around dazedly for a moment, before he fell back unconscious as well. I hadn't expected Sebastian to do that so quickly and listened in shock as Merrill finished the chant. I wasn't sure if it was a spell or Dalish prayer. Apologetically, she told me, “I do not know if I began the ceremony quickly enough to be effective. He may merely wander until he wakes.” I had to smile despite my worry. The Fade was very different entering it like this than in my dreams. We arranged them on the platform, with Paws nosing both of the men. Ser Mew batted Anders' nose before curling up with a discontented noise on his chest. “How much time do you need before I go?” I asked her. I could barely see Anders' chest moving. She pulled a salve from a pouch and rubbed some on three places across my forehead, with the middle being the last. “You may start now, Hawke.” I looked into the Urn, and it looked like any ash after a funeral, like Mother's and Father's. Maybe I expected it to glow, but it looked so normal. I took a pinch, and settled to sit on the floor with my back to the altar. A wind blew through me and I looked at Merrill as she grew more watery and dissolved into the green denseness of a swampy forest. I was standing in among trees that were made for spooky stories by the fire, of ghosts and haunts and rattling trees that were the scariest things I knew of when I was a child in the years before the Blight. Now, skeletons and liches weren't even on the list. When I checked, I had my weapons and armor, even if I wasn't quite sure if my feet were touching the green and fuzzy ground. With no idea of which way to go to find Anders, I picked a direction and walked. The forest seemed to be bare of life, as I didn't see any birds or even insects of any kind at first, but as I walked I realized I saw a rabbit and I could hear... something else. The sound was like the buzz of insects on a hot summer day, but it shifted as I walked. I heard a bit of a chant and then the buzz became a distant roar. I watched around me, wondering which were harmless and which were demons and spirits. This forest path seemed safe enough, even as I fingered my Bassrath-Kata. I hurried my pace. I had to find Anders. A voice off the gloomy path told me, “You may not want to find that battlefield, Champion.” Remembering the demons in the false halls of the Fade Gallows, I slowed. “Who are you?” “Merely one of the spirits here, not what your kind calls demons.” She was wearing fine and glowing clothing, and her skin shone in the mossy light of the forest. “I have a gift for you, to help you with the field ahead of you.” Remembering the threats and bargains offered my last visit. I wondered, “Why would you do that?” She smiled, and spread her arms wide, she appeared almost transparent for an instant. “It is my nature. I am Charity, and gifts benefit both the recipient and the giver. I give you knowledge, it will help you with the curse you have labored against.” “Curse? What curse?” I wondered what she was talking about. Curses didn't exist. “That is possibly the simplest thing to call it for one who cannot move freely here.” She sounded apologetic. “Spirits are not supposed to be cut off from their home. Some are seduced by darker exemplars who visit, but they can return as easily as your people travel here in their sleep.” I didn't quite understand what she was talking about. “So Justice is cursed, or Anders?” “They both are, now, but the spirit you know, nearly starved from the curse before they merged” So this was from something done to Justice. I wanted to know how to end it for Anders, hopefully short of his death. “How can this curse be ended?” “The curse's embodiment can be destroyed here but that won't truly end the spirit. The spirit that gave power to the Baroness' curse approves of the destruction in its wake. Its attention was elsewhere, but it enjoys its pawns too much to allow their freedom.” She looked briefly down the path. The roaring got louder and a pillar of scarlet and blue flame could barely be seen in the distance. “Thanks for the help, Charity. I have to go.” I started running down the path, hoping they were close. Destroy somebody, I could do that. The run through the forest seemed endless and the plants and trees became less... wholesome as I ran. It didn't look like the leafless barrenness of a forest or swampy woods in winter before the snows blanketed it. It looked dead, like the smell of dead and rotting flesh on top of swampy muck. The smell was faint, and I tried to ignore it. The path opened up a little, into a village that was only ruins of barns and houses. I stopped for a moment, but no spirits were there that I could see, just a huge fallen gate where there was really no wall anymore. I ran on, worrying at how long it was taking me to find them. After I passed the gate, the path ended, opening out into the courtyard of a huge mansion. I stopped. Anders was in the middle of a cage made of the glowing light and a pillar of light that kept roaring. It roared so loudly, I wasn't sure if those were words. I moved over to him, keeping the cage between myself and that pillar, hoping to not be noticed. He looked irritated and waved a hand away from himself. “Begone, spirit. It's not even amusing the fifth time.”
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