Chapter Text
So, here it is, the "One-Shot", although; seriously, this is no longer a simple one-shot. I had way too much fun writing it, and the ideas that came into my head were too good to let pass. Also, it just wasn't like... enough. So, I decided to make it a complete history. This is the prologue, and while the episodes are going to take some time to be updated (For now), I think it's a good way to keep things fresh.
Yeah, well, the next One-Shot is truly going to be a One-Shot, so please, check my Tumblr in order to see the five options that I have in order to write the perfect One-Shot.
I'll post them there so that you can read a sort of "TLDR" of them, and you can vote to wish one you'll like to read!
In anycase, the next update is as follows!
-One-Shot (One, check Tumblr for the options!)
-The White Lion of the Red Keep (One Chapter!)
-Overlord: The Demon Empress (One Chapter!)
See you all later!
-Also, if you wish to follow me on Tumblr! You will see the next updates, Artwork, or ask me anything about my works or what you'll like to see in the future, and get more news! As well as how to support me directly!
Prologue
The concept of immortality, once a lofty aspiration and a coveted dream, has become a reality for a select few whose lives have persisted for countless centuries. However, as time continues to pass without end, the novelty of eternal life has given way to a sense of ennui and frustration. What was once a blessing has become a burden, an endless cycle of existence without the hope of release. The weight of immortality was heavy, and those who bore it were left to grapple with the ramifications of their eternal existence. Especially to those who remember what it was and the old glories of past times.
Still, it left a sense of purpose to those who have lost something significant. Revenge was often the only reason an immortal person would continue on with their dull existence. And no one knew more about immortality and retribution than an old woman by the name of Flemeth. A human, a witch, an old woman with even an older soul. A lingering reminder of what took place such a long time ago. A carrier of vengeance which would not rest until the purpose would be concluded. But that was still a dream for her. While waiting for her ultimate revenge, Flemeth's role in history has been to look out for essential roles in history, sometimes even push actions that could change the outcome of crucial moments. Out of boredom? Perhaps. Out of a need to do the right thing? Maybe. Whatever the reason for Flemeth to involve herself in certain situations. Flemeth's goals were mysterious.
Nevertheless, Flemeth could feel the winds of change coming again as she stared ahead of her, watching the smoke and fire from a safe distance.
"And so, once again, the Blight comes back to the surface," Flemeth spoke, sensing and smelling such a familiar scent. "An old soul tainted again."
Flemeth knew that the Blight could become an uncontrollable force if it were left untouched and with the current state of the world. It could be perilous.
"I wonder, what type of hero will rise against it?" Flemeth muttered to herself, pondering about the possibilities of meeting such a person. If it comes to that, she'll help that individual or individuals, just like she has done in the past. Humanity could benefit or a new leader. Who knows? Flemeth's pastimes to see ages come and go were genuine without entertainment. However, deep inside, she knew that it would not be forever. Flemeth and her old companion were awaiting their final dance that would soon come. But until then, she'll make sure the world doesn't burn.
"Oh, mother, there you are," a voice snapped Flemeth out of her trance as she could recognise the voice of her daughter, Morrigan. "Looking at the view?"
Flemeth snorted, hearing her daughter's peculiar snarky, and sarcastic tone, which shouldn't surprise her. Flemeth raised her to be like that, after all.
"The Blight is coming once again, child. And it's starting on here, on the Korcari Wilds," Flemeth responded as Morrigan stared at the darkened smoke that the Darkspawn were causing. Morrigan's face frowned, and instead of fear, was a sense of intrigue.
"I see," Morrigan only replied. "No doubt, the valiant Grey Wardens would come and save us all."
"No time to jester, girl. If we are not careful, the Blight could spread all over Ferelden. And only a Grey Warden can kill an Archdemon," Flemeth stated, scolding Morrigan's lack of understanding of their current situation or how dangerous those old souls of forgotten times could be.
Morrigan said nothing, just stared at Flemeth, simply munching her words. Before sighing. "Of course, mother."
Flemeth nodded as she glanced at the horde of Darkspawn slowly climbing their way up from the Deep Roads, corrupting everything they touched. It was going to be a long year for Thedas and for Ferelden, especially if the Grey Wardens were slow.
"Let go, girl. We must make sure to prepare."
"Prepare for what?" Morrigan asked her mother with a confused face.
"I believe, soon enough, we may have some visitors."
Morrigan's perplexed expression deepened as she obediently followed her mother, Flemeth. However, their departure was interrupted by an abrupt and intense sensation that coursed through their bodies, causing them to shiver involuntarily. The magic within them reacted to the foreign and unfamiliar presence, catching them off-guard and unprepared. It felt as though something or someone had infiltrated their very being, leaving a fleeting yet distinct impression that lingered long after it had vanished. The unknown entity had left them with goosebumps and an unsettling feeling of being violated by forces beyond their understanding.
Morrigan had her staff in her hand as she took her time to breathe in and out, trying to calm herself and her magic. "What was that?!" She exclaimed to the forest ahead of her, warning of any possible threat lurking in the shadows. But she knew no one was there.
Flemeth, an old woman, who has known many songs, was left speechless. She had no idea what that was. It was so unnatural, unknown, and not belonging to their world that it took time for her to regain her senses—the soul within her, that spirit. Mythal, an Elven Goddess, or whatever she was now, seemed to have been shaken too. And for an Elven Goddess, for a being thousands of years old, to be so afraid of such an unsettling feeling. It must be for an excellent reason.
"Girl, we must get back home," Flemeth whispered as she glanced West. She was not being able to shake the sensation of something arriving so far away. Where the draws of the map of the known world ended, but Flemeth and Morrigan weren't the only ones who felt that sensation. Across Thedas worldwide, to all users who possessed magic in their veins. They all felt that foreign invasion of their being, a quick shivering and unsettled sentiment of stupor and anxiety.
And in the Fade, that wave was felt even stronger, as spirits, demons, and the fabric of the dream world itself shocked under the pressure of an unknown power making itself known. But what was it? Not even the oldest spirit could say. But they knew, mages, demons, and spirits alike, that a new entity as entered Thedas.
The rhythmic clang of metal striking metal, an ode to the blacksmith's craft, reverberated throughout the sprawling encampment. The cacophony of hoofbeats, the tramp of soldiers, and the ceaseless bustle of supply wagons coming and going created a mesmerising tableau for those unaccustomed to the sights and sounds of an army camp. Even intimidating, as such a view reinforces the idea that war was upon them. And it wasn't against a neighbouring kingdom, but something far worse.
And for a young mage whose life has only known the Circle. The exterior world seemed quite strange.
"So much noise," In a hushed tone, a youthful girl struggled to maintain pace with her surroundings. She found herself unaccustomed to manoeuvring around so many people or being mindful of her footsteps. The hallways of The Circle of Magi were consistently pristine and simplistic to navigate. She knew where everything was and could even travel with her eyes close. But here, things were utterly different.
"What is it? Not used to walking around so many people?" A warden by the name of Alistair called with a gentle teasing voice. The girl glanced at him and awkwardly nodded.
"Yes, it's weird to see so many... different people," She replied anxiously. "I am still getting used to... all of this."
Alistair smiled at the young girl. He knew how hard it had been for the young Mage. The things he learned about her and the debacle that happened after her Harrowing made him realise that she was a gentle soul, thrust to join the Wardens. However, Alistair couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She is too young. Alistar sighed deeply, looking at the girl who couldn't be older than fifteen.
From what Ducan told him, this young girl was beyond her peers—a truly one-of-a-kind mage. Intelligent, dutiful, compassionate, and incredibly powerful, the latter worried the Templars because, of course, they would be concerned about a young, powerful mage. Nevertheless, Alistair felt responsible for her, especially after spending time travelling with her. She was too innocent and afraid of the outside world and would be forced to join the Grey Wardens, and he didn't know if she would survive the Joining.
Alistair shook his head and glanced back as they walked towards the destination. "I... I heard you still have a family. Lothering? You did mutter something about it."
The young Mage looked up to him, surprised to hear him say that. "You heard?"
"Ah, yeah, well, I have a good ear," Alistair chuckled nervously as he realised he had not yet disclosed his past as a Templar to her. Hearing and watching was a trait all Templars learned as a skill to continuously monitor Mages in case they planned something. A bit snobbish if Alistar could say so himself, but it was something he still had and was difficult to unlearn. "So, did you try to meet them?"
The young Mage's lips quivered briefly as sadness poured from her face but soon vanished as she only breathed slowly. "I only know little. I have a few second cousins. The Amell Family used to be a big noble house from Kirkwall. I think... or very wealthy. I don't know how my mother ended up in Ferelden. I never had the chance to ask her."
"Ah, could you ask her? Ask for some references to where they could be. Y'know...?" Alistair asked, chuckling before the young girl's face darkened.
"I doubt it. My mother is dead."
Alistair felt like slapping his face as he groaned silently. "You're an idiot, Alistair," he muttered as the young Mage tilted her head at him.
"Did you say something?"
"Oh, uh... look at the sky, beautiful?" Alistair quickly replied as the young Mage stared back at him, quite amused.
"Mmhm, I guess?"
The youthful Mage found herself puzzled by Alistair's enigmatic nature. Despite this, she couldn't help but relish the time spent in his company. His attempts at humour, though often lacking, were endearing, and she appreciated his efforts to lighten the mood. Through their interactions, the Mage had come to view Alistair as a kind and considerate individual, always striving to ensure her comfort and ease. And she appreciated it immensely.
Soon enough, both arrived at a small camp on the edge of Ostagar and there, the young Mage found herself surrounded by a group of strange people.
"These are the Wardens?" She muttered slowly, holding her staff tightly with fear in her eyes, like a baby deer in the forest.
"Recruits," Duncan said as he appeared from the shadows of the camp, holding a sort of scroll. "They are all recruits. Each of them came from a different background, either from a Dalish clan, a noble house, an Alienage or the deep kingdom of Orzammar. But after becoming a Grey Warden, all of that won't matter at the end of the day."
Duncan stated, observing the group of people. A more significant set of recruits than he intended. Yet he felt that it was not enough. Against the Blight, it was never enough. However, Duncan had a duty. They all have a commitment to Thedas, to the world.
"Alistair, here, these are the instructions to follow. You know what to do," Duncan said as Alistair groaned internally, as he could sense a sort of stress rising among the recruits.
"Of course, Duncan," Alistair sighed, already feeling a sense of tiresome.
"Good. I have a meeting with the King. Try to take to be hasty if our scouts are right. The main Darkspawn horde should arrive here by nightfall."
Upon hearing those words, a few of the other recruits threw disapproving and uneasy glances in the speaker's direction. Duncan had already departed, leaving Alistair to bear the full weight of responsibility for all of them. As the only active Warden in Ferelden, it fell solely upon Alistair to manage the situation.
Alistair just rubbed the back of his neck as he chuckled nervously. "Yeah... uhm. Why don't we start with introductions? My name is Alistar. I am current... and only Grey Warden, besides Duncan and... some others, I think."
Alistair stared around and could only hear some eerie silence. No one spoke to him, which was quite insulting, at least to him. "Eh, what about you?" Alistair asked the Dwarf, whose cold and emotionless face could be mistaken for one of a dead person.
As the rest observed the scene, they noticed a Dwarf perched atop a large boulder, seemingly in his own little world. He meticulously polished his warhammer as soon as his gaze fixed on the group with a steady, serious expression. He took a deep breath, and with a deep voice, he spoke.
"Lofrag Aeducan, I am from..." Lofrag paused, realising that he had been exiled for a crime that he did not commit. He tightly closed his hand and then let out a long breath. "Was from a noble house of Orzammar."
The flow of the conversation continued, as next to the Dwarf, leaning on a pillar from one of the ruins of the abandoned fortress that was Ostagar, away from the light, a hooded person was standing. The person emitted a hissing sound, suggesting annoyance and irritation.
"Lyna Mahariel of the Sabrae Clan," With a confident flair, the Dalish revealed her face, proudly displaying her Vallaslin. It symbolised her deep connection to her people and their ancient traditions. Although for some, a mark of ancient glories.
"Is that Mythal's Vallaslin?" Another elf asked, and Lyna could only reply with another hiss.
"Yes," Lyna said, inspecting the other Elf. "I am surprised you know about it. You don't seem to be one of us."
The other Elf frowned deeply as he stared at the Dalish woman. "What do you mean by not one of us? I am an Elf too!"
"You're an Elf, but not a Dalish. My people," Lyna replied, almost scoffing at him, even looking down on him as if he was something else. "You're from an Alienage, aren't you? I can smell it from miles away."
The Elf was hurt by the other's sneering tone and attitude, which made them feel even more inferior. It was particularly painful coming from someone who should have been more understanding and compassionate to the suffering of their specie.
"Now, now, let's get along. We are in this together," Alistair stated nervously, trying to dissipate the tension away.
The Elf in question glared at Lyna before looking at the group. "I am Kalian Tabris... I am an Elf from Denerim's Alienage. And proud of my race."
Lyna could be heard snorting on the side, almost mockingly, but Kalian decided to ignore it.
"My name is Catherine Cousland," another woman spoke, yet that voice sounded almost depressing, a whisper even. Alistair knew who that woman was and had heard from Duncan what had transpired with the Cousland family. Elissa seems to be still grieving the death of her mother and father, but more importantly. Deep inside her, the desire for vengeance was growing.
Although the other individuals in the group were all grown adults, with some even having prior experience in combat, the young mage girl appeared to be overwhelmed as she stood before them. Their intense gazes bore down on her, and she struggled to summon the courage to introduce herself to the group. Thankfully, Alistair gently nudged her, smiling at her, calming the young girl.
"Hello," she spoke nervously, almost stammering. "M-My name is Elia Amell! And I am Mage, from the Circle of Magi!"
The young girl spoke nervously, feeling all the gazes upon her now.
"You're so young," Catherine whispered, amazed and worried. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen..." Elia responded, suddenly feeling everyone looking at her in shock.
"Fifteen?" Kalian repeated in a whisper, trying to come up with terms about the age of the young Mage. Even the Dwarf Lofrag gave a sort of amused stare at the girl.
"A child?" Lyna muttered, equally surprised, if not a bit offended, to be put next to a child. "It is wise to have such a young Mage with us?" Lyna asked abruptly, giving Elia dirty looks, to which Alistar simply stepped ahead, looking at Lyna directly into her eyes.
"She is the best the Circle of Magic can offer. Otherwise, she wouldn't be here," Alistair stated firmly, glancing around the group, almost daring them to speak up.
Lyna huffed, but in her eyes, there was a glimpse of worry for the young mage girl. It seemed that Lyna was not as heartless as she appeared to be, or maybe it was for some other reason.
"I meant no offence, Miss Elia," Catharine replied gently. "Just worry, that's all. But I trust your abilities."
As Elia gazed at Catharine, she couldn't help but notice a certain aura of protective warmth emanating from the noblewoman. It was almost as if Catharine was assuming the role of an older sister, seeking to ensure Elia's comfort and security throughout their joint travels. Elia didn't mind, honestly.
"Thank you," Elia muttered, suddenly looking down, avoiding everyone else's gaze.
"Whatever," Lyna quietly expressed her concern while quickly glancing at the girl. Shortly after, Daveth and Jory showed up as new recruits, but no one paid much attention to them.
"Well, now we all know each other, we can now hold hands," Alistair stated, as the silence of each one of them was his answer. "Fine, don't hold hands, meanies."
That did bring a soft chuckle from Elia, which Alistair thanked with a playful wink.
"Now, we had a task at hand. We are to go to the Korcari Wilds and seek some ingredients. The faster, the better."
"So be it," Lofrag grunted, standing up and putting his warhammer on his shoulder.
As the rest of the individuals gathered their gear and began to walk away, it became apparent that each of them had a distinct motivation for being there. One person may have been seeking a fresh start, a chance to begin anew, while another was driven by a desire to make amends for past transgressions. For someone else, it may have been an opportunity to seek retribution. Regardless of their individual reasons, they were all on the cusp of becoming Grey Wardens - a group of misfits who would ultimately play a pivotal role in a war that would forever alter the Thedas, for better or for worse.
The capital of Orlais boasted an awe-inspiring display of grandeur and magnificence. Vanity and exuberance as Orlesians themselves. Its large stone buildings, crafted with impeccable detail, stand tall and proud amidst vast streets of pure white marble. The golden towers that adorn the city's skyline add to its opulence. At the same time, the sweet scent of perfume and lingering roses serves as a reminder of the city's elegance and sophistication. It is no wonder that the Orlesians consider their capital to be the centre of Thedas, for it truly is a sight to behold.
Although, some would argue otherwise. Nevertheless, Val Royeaux was the city where the Chantry's head, the Divine, took residency in the Grand Cathedral. And where the Chant of Light's teachings spread around the continent. The city's importance to Thedas couldn't be dismissed.
However, for Orlais and those who lived in Val Royeaux, life in the grand city continued as it always had. With fake pleasantries, words with hidden meanings, and daggers in the dark. After all, Orlais has another pastime—the Game.
The Game referred to a never-ending conflict among noble houses in the obscure alleys of Val Royeaux. In a world where a single letter held more power than an entire army, connections with the right individuals could unlock new levels of societal influence and where scheming was considered a national sport. The stakes were high, and the fierce competition made every move a calculated risk. Those who play the Game may end up losing everything, even their lives. But if they win, respect, glory, and the joy of taking on an enemy was always a pleasant feeling.
To the Orlesians, it was, but a mere contest of mental fortitude, a pastime, and none were more adept at it than Vivienne De Fer—an individual of lofty aspirations and fervent yearnings. Vivienne was keenly aware that, as a Mage, she would forever be viewed as a subordinate member of society. She was regarded as a monstrosity, a menace, and though she could tolerate and even use such derision of the common folk to her advantage, being ridiculed was something she simply could not abide by.
Vivienne has dedicated herself entirely to becoming a person who commands respect, instils fear, and inspires dignity. She was the First Enchanter of the Circle of Montsimard, Enchanter of the Imperial Court of Orlais and Mistress of the Duke of Ghislain, all before the age of 40—a feat for any young Mage and woman. Vivienne lived a life of privileges, yet she knew it all could disappear if she didn't play her cards right.
And I shall never make a mistake. Vivienne thought as she sighed while looking at the many fabric and silks, losing her time in that store in the capital of Orlais. As a Mage, Vivienne should technically never leave the Circle.
However, the application of that rule was subject to the discretion of each Circle across Thedas and the individuals it was enforced upon. Vivienne, a woman of high standing, resided in a magnificent palace alongside her romantic partner. And her personal quarters on Montsimard were nothing short of exquisite, befitting her esteemed status. She could travel to Val Royeux whenever she wanted or when she was needed in the Imperial Court. Nevertheless, Vivienne possessed the freedom few Mages had across Thedas.
And Vivienne enjoyed it. However, there was a reason for her being there, and it had nothing to do with the luxuries of her life.
"Madam De Fer, I've brought this," a seamstress said, showing the delicate fabric as Vivienne hummed deeply, not truly paying attention to the gown.
"Mm, bring me another one of red and silver laces," she only stated, with a dull tone of voice as the poor seamstress nodded quickly.
"Of course, Madam De Fer!"
Vivienne touched the silk hanging from a hook, caressing it slowly, trying to calm her mind from what had happened weeks ago. That sensation, that horrid feeling of being invaded by something foreign. Vivienne thought, at first, that a Demon was trying to possess her. She woke up in the middle of the night, suddenly fighting the sensation of panic as her poor and dear lover Bastien suddenly saw her jumping out of bed trying to fight an invisible enemy.
Vivienne's panic didn't end until she was sure, no demon was trying to invade her mind. Then when she travelled to Montsimard, she discovered that every Mage there sensed the same thing. Every Mage across Orlais has felt the same feeling, the same sensation, and Vivienne could only help but wonder if the same could be said about the mages across Thedas. It was one of the reasons she arrived in Val Royeaux. Vivienne's guts were telling her that something was happening.
And with the rumours and whispers that a Blight has emerged in Ferelden. Viviennes' nerves were on edge. In due time, it was expected that the Grey Wardens would exert their influence and manipulate situations to their liking, a concept that Vivienne found to be highly disagreeable. However, soon her thoughts were cut short by an arrogant and snotty tone of voice.
"This isn't what I wanted you to give me!"
A lady with absurdly lengthy, golden hair that cascaded in spirals about her shoulders yelled with a pompous voice.
"My lady, please!" A poor seamstress stuttered nervously as the irate blond girl scoffed at her in disgust.
"I don't care. Bring me something better than this... rag!" The blond-haired woman exclaimed, as Vivienne simply stared at her. Madam De Fer saw an immaculate sight. She couldn't deny that the arrogant little lady was beautiful, a woman built for the male gaze, someone would say. Yet, with that attitude, all that beauty goes to waste.
However, Vivienne frowned as she couldn't grasp where that woman came from. Vivienne could see that the woman was wealthy by the amount of jewellery on her body and by the way she sneered at the store employees.
I wonder if there's any new blood around here? Maybe an heiress from a family that just recently became wealthy? Vivienne couldn't help but wonder as she soon noticed two people sighing deeply. They looked like the girl's servants, as they clearly looked embarrassed and guilty by their lady's behaviour.
The maid possessed a flawless, smooth skin tone reminiscent of delicate porcelain, complemented by a kind and serene countenance. The graceful glasses she wore added to her refined appearance, making her an ideal selection for a well-heeled household. A beautiful woman that many lords would love to have.
"My lady, please," the poor maid whispered, clearly ashamed of the young lady's behaviour.
"Silence!" The lady's arrogance poured out of her voice as she sneered at the maid. "I shall not have it! Is this the best Val Royeaux has to offer? Disgusting!"
Those words made some of the customers there gasp loudly at the audacity of the lady insulting Val Royeaux's elegance. The woman in question simply scoffed.
"Yuri, Sebas, we are leaving! I shall find my gowns somewhere else, somewhere better!" The blond woman stated, huffing like a petulant child, storming away.
Vivienne rolled her eyes and scoffed. "You've made yourself a target, child. You're not going live long," Vivienne whispered, but soon her eyes were drawn to a striking figure: a tall man with a distinguished mane of white hair and a well-groomed beard. Despite her efforts to remain composed, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the sight of such a refined gentleman. Vivienne saw nothing but well-formed muscles behind this man's clothes.
A retired soldier, perhaps? Maybe, a retired knight? Vivienne, just like many of the women in the store, couldn't help but stare at the man with keenly interested eyes.
"I apologise for my lady's behaviour," Sebas bowed as Yuri did the same, smiling softly at the seamstress who blushed immensely behind her mask.
"Not at all, Monsieur!" The seamstress blushed as Sebas' gallant smile seemed to have made every lady there sigh in love.
"We'll pay for the gowns dropped. Please accept it," Yuri came forward, giving a bag of gold as she took the gowns that a confident blond-haired woman threw to the ground.
The seamstress was shocked at the heavy bag of gold. "Oh, my!" She only replied before Sebas and Yuri bowed to the rest of the customers.
"Please forgive us for this scene, and in the name of our lady."
Vivienne was filled with a sense of sympathy towards the servants who were tasked with serving a lady who was both childlike and impolite. Despite their own refined demeanour and pristine appearance, they were forced to endure the difficult task of catering to the lady's inappropriate behaviour. It was not something Vivienne hadn't seen before. Still, while she stared out on the streets, she saw that blond-haired woman enter a refined carriage with her two servants behind. It was a strange sensation that made Vivienne stare at them.
Vivienne frowned significantly and questioned where exactly they had come from. Despite this, she concentrated her attention on more significant issues than only the visitors from beyond Orlais. Vivienne felt that soon enough, her power, knowledge and influence should quickly be needed, or so she thought. Since no power of her would ever prepare Orlais for what's to come.
The once-thriving town of Lothering lay in shambles as the ruthless Darkspawn horde advanced further into Ferelden. The devastating defeat at Ostagar was a crushing blow that resulted in the tragic loss of King Cailan and the royal army, as well as a significant number of valiant Grey Wardens. However, amidst the chaos and destruction, a group of individuals could be seen fleeing for their lives, seeking refuge from the impending danger that loomed ahead.
But as they ran, Darkspawn followed and had to fight their way out.
"I think that's all of them," Carver muttered as they just ended a minor skirmish against those creatures. But still, he was looking around for more enemies. "I don't see more of them."
"For the moment," Bethany whispered, helping her mother to stand up. She looked at her siblings, all tired and covered in blood.
The Hawke family has been tirelessly on the move, seeking refuge and respite from the chaos that surrounds them. Despite their valiant efforts, each time they thought they had made progress towards their goal, they were met with the relentless onslaught of the darkspawn, appearing like a swarm of flies drawn to decaying flesh. Their old mother was just too tired even to continue.
"Maker's breath," Leandra, the mother and matriarch of the family, sobbed. "We've lost everything your father and I built for all of you. Gone!"
"At least we are alive! I take that for a house any day," Garrett replied with his usual smirking tone. However, it was met soon by a hiss as his twin sister approached her mother.
"Not now, Garret," Marian snapped, telling her twin that it wasn't the time for jokes. At the same time, Garrett, known as the joker of the family, sighed as he proceeded to clean his great sword. "Mom, are you hurt?"
"My dear... our home... I couldn't even take your father's amulet," Leandra whispered as Marian hugged her mother softly, rubbing her back.
"It's going to be alright," Marian muttered softly. "Everything is going to be alright."
"We should have left sooner," Bethany muttered. "Why did we take so long?"
"Why are you looking at me?" Carver replied angrily. "I've been running since Ostagar."
"Are we going to lose more time hugging and kissing each other, or will we leave now before more Darkspawn appear?" Suddenly, another voice appeared, and it was another Hawke sibling. Leandras' oldest children were triplets. Two girls, one boy. All with different personalities, making people wonder if they were related. According to her father, Marian was the spitting image of her mother, Leandra, during her younger years. She had long, stunning red hair that would turn heads, and her deep green eyes were captivating and alluring. Her demeanour was gentle yet firm, much like her mother's. As the eldest child of the Hawke family, Marian was often the one who kept things under control when their parents were present. Her responsible nature and leadership qualities made her an invaluable asset to the family.
Garrett, the second younger of the triplets, possessed a more carefree and relaxed demeanour. He had a natural knack for playing pranks and making others laugh, always striving to see the positive side of any situation. However, his positive outlook was not without reason. Following the death of their father, the family was left with a void that could never be filled. Garrett's heart ached to see his mother's sadness and grief, so he took it upon himself to lift her spirits and bring joy to their household.
Then, there was the youngest of the triplets, Leah. Both Garrett and Leah favoured their father's looks, with dark hair and blue eyes. Yet, Leah's demeanour was more nasty, rude and even violent. But Leah wasn't always like that, no. She used to be gentle and happy. But it all changed when their father passed away. Leah was the one who found him dead on his bed. After that, she was never the same. Still, Leah's behaviour was simply a cover for the fragile and overly dependent person she truly was. Leah was utterly protective of her family.
Still, it was clear that the triplets and the other two youngest siblings clashed occasionally. Especially now, after everything that has happened.
"Leah," Marian warned, while Leah simply scoffed. "We must move now. Carver, help Mother, please."
"Wait, but where are we going?" Bethany asked now, worried and anxious.
"Away from the Blight, perhaps?" Leah scoffed as she glanced at Bethany.
"Obviously," Bethany replied hissingly. "But where is that?!"
"We can go to Kirkwall," Leandra suddenly said as all of her children stared back at her.
"Kirkwall?" Marian muttered.
"That's quite far away," Garrett added.
"Mother, there are a lot of Templars there," Bethany stated, holding her staff tightly.
"I know... but we have family there and a state."
"I don't, Mother," Marian muttered, as she could sense all of her siblings just looking at her, waiting for her decision.
"Please, Marian, we don't have any other place to go."
The siblings shared some discomfort but had no better idea than to listen to their mother's suggestion. "Nevertheless, we would have to reach Gwaren first," Carver said.
"And only Maker knows if the road is still there," Leah added with a low groan.
The Hawke family began to move into the rocky mountain path, and each step they made was one to an uncertain end. Still, they found themselves reaching another runaway from the Blight, a woman by the name of Aveline Vallen and her dying husband, a Templar Knight by the name of Sir Vallen, who was on the verge of death, either by the taint in his blood, or by Leah's daggers, since he threatens to imprison both Marian and Bethany for being Apostates.
Still, they all realised that their lives were still in great danger as more Darkspawn arrived at their position.
"Mother, behind Bethany and Carver!" Marian exclaimed as she used pulled her staff ready while Garrett got his greatsword out and Leah her daggers.
"Marian, I can help!" Carver yelled.
"Carver, no!" Marian said as she stared at him quickly. "If something happens, take Mother and Bethany away. Run, and don't stop!"
"Marian! Please let me help!" Bethany pleaded as she thought that since she was a mage too, she could help her older sister. But Marian only stood before them, preparing for another skirmish with the Darkspawn.
Marian, Garrett, Leah, and Aveline valiantly fought against hordes of Darkspawn, determined to eliminate as many as possible. However, their efforts were soon impeded by the sudden appearance of an Ogre, a fierce and formidable opponent that they were ill-equipped to defeat alone. Yet, they did, leaving them utterly exhausted. The ferocity of the Ogre's attacks left them struggling to stay alive. They knew that the more Darkspawn appeared, the less their chances of survival or escape. But just when it seemed all hope was lost, an unexpected saviour emerged in the form of a majestic dragon. With its mighty wings and scorching breath, the dragon effortlessly dispatched the rest of the Darkspawn.
And once it was done, the dragon itself transformed into a woman. An older woman with strange armour, to say that such sight made them all stand back slightly, would've been a misunderstanding. "Well, well, what have we here? It seems that the Wilds have become quite the place for visitors."
"Who are you? What are you doing here?!" Leah growled as the old woman simply chuckled at the sight of those challenging eyes.
"My, so many questions to your saviour," the old woman replied. "Does it matter who I am?"
"I'll say so," Garrett muttered. "Dragon transforming into an old woman with strange clothes... sorry for not being a bit confused."
"Easy there, Leah, Garrett. We can't simply threaten the person who saved us," Marian stated as she watched the old woman.
"You're smarter than your siblings and wise, that's for sure, girl. But if you asked who I am. It's not quite easy to say. I have many names, but you may call me Flemeth."
"The Witch of the Wilds," Bethany whispered, gasping at the sight of such a mythical person.
"Among many things," Flemth added, chuckling as her eyes gazed upon the Hawke family. "You two... are mages. Haven't you felt anything wrong lately? A sensation of horror running in your body?"
Bethany and Marian were struck with a chilling sensation upon hearing Flemeth's words, as they were all too familiar with the ominous feeling of something violently stirring within them that had plagued them not too long ago.
"You... sensed too?" Marian asked, choosing her words carefully.
"Yes, I have, just like every single Mage in Thedas, it appears," Marian noticed that Flemeth's reply was not delivered in her usual tease and knowing manner. Instead, her voice was tense and carried a hint of worry that was impossible to ignore.
"Do you know what it was?" Bethany asked fearfully.
Flemeth, for the first time in such a long time, had no clue. She was as lost as those two young girls. The uncertainty of a dangerous unknown was a song she hadn't danced to in a long time, and if she weren't careful with her actions, it might truly be her last.
"No, at all," Flemeth replied. "I have no sense of what that horrid sensation was."
"Was it a demon?" Marian inquired as Flemethc chuckled softly.
"A demon? No, I've known the Fade, child. A Demon has no power to frighten me. Yet, you felt it, did you not? It was not from the Fade, but West."
Flemeth pointed as everyone looked at the faraway mountains and rivers and forest that lay over there.
"There, something out there sends that shockwave we all felt. Power unknown to this world. Who, or what it was, has yet to be decided. But we must be careful. You and I, girl, for this world have become a bit smaller."
"That doesn't make me feel better," Garrett muttered worriedly.
"Are you sure it is not the Archdemon playing with your head?" Leah asked, still keeping an eye out for any Darkspawn.
"An Archdemon has not that power unless you were a Grey Warden, but even then. This sensation, your sisters and I felt, was not the same," Flemeth stated. "It was as if something just... pushed its way here. Forcing the Fade in retreat, if that makes sense."
"Well, whatever it is, I do hope it stays away," Marian said as she stared at Flemeth. "We can talk about this later... or not. But I must take my family away from the main horse. Could you help us?"
"What in it for me?" Flemeth asked, as her eyes shined brightly.
"Anything."
"Anything..." Flemeth then smile. "You may prove useful for this world yet, girl."
To say that those words made the Hawke family feel ever so slightly small was a vast understatement. They were afraid. Marian and Bethany were tensed and anxious. Since if someone like Flemeth was as worried as them, then the old woman's warnings had to be listened to.
Flemeth and the Hawke family were finally able to come to an agreement and make their way to Kirkwall. However, Flemeth's words had a profound impact on all of them. She had urged them to pay close attention to the distant sounds emanating from the West, warning them of potential dangers and uncertain times ahead. With this warning ringing in their ears, the group set out on their journey, unsure of what lay ahead but determined to face whatever challenges awaited them.
The incessant sound of countless picks hitting the ground in search of a minuscule crack in the earth, the never-ending moving of supplies, rock, and wood, and the monotonous moaning of the undead working tirelessly day in and day out without the need to sleep, eat, or drink, made for quite the sight for anyone who ventured close by. They were undead, after all, and good working pawns for their master. However, while the undying beings had no qualms with their current duty, a certain succubus could only sniff, utterly disgusted by the putrid smell of sulfur and poisonous gases that permeated the air. It did not cause her any harm, nor was it in any way dangerous for her to breathe such smoke. It was just an annoying and revolting experience for her.
Yet, Albedo had a job to do. "Ugh, such a foul smell," she muttered as she looked at the map Sebas had given her—the world, the inhabitants here, called home, Thedas.
"Not Yggdrasil," Albedo only stated as she watched their current position. The entrance of the great tomb of Nazarick was deep in the Sea of Ashes, a quiet place to be. Yet, the desolated land of ashes and constant volcanic activity offered a natural defence for all of them. Still, there were some small posts near the edges of these places.
"What kind of human lives in such a place?" Albedo could only ask herself. Remembering Demiurge's information about those humans being banished from an order called Seekers or something like that and were forced to live on the world's edge, where the sun barely comes up thanks to the fog and natural gasses of the many volcanos.
Nevertheless, Albedo's worries focused on the task at hand: to build outside protection for Nazarick, camouflage the entrance, and create the perfect place.
"Ah, so much to do," Albedo sighed deeply as she returned to her sketches before a sudden voice brought her attention.
"Oh, Albedo, there you are," Demiurge said as he landed beside her.
"Demiurge, what is it?" Albedo asked, raising an elegant eyebrow. "You could've used [Message] if it was urgent."
Demiurge shrugged slightly, not missing that smirk of his. "I had to inform you personally. It appears that Aura and Shalltear have successfully made contact with what's left of a civilisation far West."
Albedo nodded, making sure to let her beloved master know. However, she glanced back at Demiurge. "What's left...?"
"From what they have told me. The civilisation's name, from what they understood, is Voshai. And they are on a sort of endless civil war after what appears to be a massive cataclysm."
Albedo hummed deeply, getting intrigued by the minute. "Keep me updating me about this topic. Also, tell Shalltear and Aura not to destroy anything... again."
Demiurge chuckled. "I shall. Oh, also, our agents have reached the so-called Tevinter Imperium."
"I see. Thankfully, we will be able to learn more about this world's magic and this... Fade."
"I am intrigued about the demons lingering there. And how they can possess mages. It's a fascinating topic for me to look into."
Albedo knew that Demiurge's enterprise would soon be pouring more knowledge about the world's magic. She has no doubt about it. Yet, those rumours about the Archdemon and the Blight brought a lot of attention not only to Albedo and Demiurge but their lady too.
This world seems to have brought a new opportunity to all of us, especially to her. Albedo sighed, thinking about her loved one.
"We have a long way ahead of us, Demiurge. But our lady's plan must not fail. We will not fail," Albedo's stares were proof enough to Demiurge that failure was not an option.
"Of course not. We will achieve it all, and just as our lady said. Before announcing us, we must remain hidden and learn as much of this world as possible before we move."
"Correct," Albedo replied as she stared at the fortress built on top of Nazarick's entrance.
This world, Thedas. Will fall to its knees. I swear it.
With a smile, Albedo gazed into the depths of the dark sky above her, a silent but powerful declaration that Nazarick's power was about to test the defences and wills of Thedas. A no Blight, not Archdemon, no Exalted March, or Qunari invasion would ever come close to what the Guardians of Nazarick could do.
May the Maker watch over Thedas. Because the countdown for the Demonic Age has come.
Authors' note!
-I decided to add the playthroughs of my Warden because I think it just adds more to the history since the different paths are just Lore-fuse. I like the idea of more Grey Wardens, and the fact that it's my "Canon" makes me able to just go crazy.
-It's the same with Hawke. Usually, I'll see a twins Hawke' trope. I decided just to make it a triplet since it allows me to play the three routes. The paragon, the Jester and the Badass. Don't you think? Well, that's me in anycase.
-Also, I decided to start from Origins since it will allow me to play more of the "Waiting game". You'll see what I mean in the following chapters.
-Also, the Lore of Thedas is crazy. I forgot how much I love it. And I hope to make it justice.
-Now, a bit of a question for those who have played Dragon Age before. Do you consider Flemeth a "Gilf"? Asking for a friend.
-Also, tell me about your playthroughs! Tell me who you romanced and killed and what path you take in the games! Who is your favourite character? Who is your less favourite character?
-Let me add, don't forget to check my Tumblr; I'll post the ideas for the One-Shot! Check them out!
-See you later!