Chapter 1 - From Ashes and Dust

"Fasta vass!" Cenner swore as he slipped on the wet street. His palms stung from the impact of his fall, but he quickly sprung up and continued to run. He had been weaving through these derelict streets for some time, eagerly waiting for the moment when his pursuers would lose interest in the chase. Unfortunately for him these men where persistent.

Cenner quickly patted his robe's pockets making sure the trinket was still there. It was amazing that all of this effort was going toward such a seemingly unimportant locket.

Most of the time the guards only gave chase for the sake of keeping face - no one really expected to catch a praesumptor, in fact it was almost a badge of pride for families to be targeted by the highly esteemed thieves' guild. After all, the praesumptors only targeted the affluent and powerful.

Cenner barely made it over a rusted and twisted fence that blocked his path. With a thud he landed heavily and tried to catch his breath. These guards had chased him further than any other. So far in fact, that he was now in the old quarter of Minrathous. It was a long forgotten and abandoned place, a reminder of the Emporiums' fall.

Cenner squatted against the wall and rested his head in his hands. What had he gotten himself into?

"He went this way!" The shouts were much to close now.

Cenner thumped his head against the wall where he rested. This was getting old, he did not know how much longer he could keep this up and returning to the Orders' safe house was no longer an option - not when imperial guards chased him like a wayward slave.

Dark brown eyes scrutinized his surrounds, looking for any shadowy place safe enough to split into. There were not many places to hide in, most building where crumbling doorways and scorched earth. The first blight had done irreparable damage to the area and the citizens had never tried to rebuild.

Only one structure stood tall among the bowed and broken backs of old Minrathous. Sharp spires twisted into the evening sky; spindly fingers ever reaching for the stars. These dark spires led down into a pyramid like structure built on a raise platform.

It was old, probably the oldest building here, an impressive feat as all other building were created before the first blight. Cenner always appreciated good civilized architecture, and no one could deny this was a perfect specimen of such a thing. Despite his appreciation, nothing could hide the overall unease he got when looking at it. It was far too intact and untouched in this ruined city.

Cenner sighed, he knew very well what this place was, and wanted more than anything to avoid it, but it looked like this old god's temple was now his only recourse. Cenner was Andrastian, in so much as all Tevene were; lip-service to the Maker once a week and shadowy activities the rest of the time. however, despite his less-than devoted beliefs, even he felt a little...disquieted in having to go into this forsaken temple – it had been abandoned for a reason.

But what was Cenner to do? Sit here and wait for the guards to arrest, torture and ultimately kill him? Or was he to squish this trivial fear of his and run into the shelter of the temple? Really, there was no other choice. He had been stupid enough to trust Mathius and now he would pay the price.

Cenner dropped his pitch to mimic his friend, "It will be easy," he said, "Just a small trinket from a lavish estate and that's all. No one will notice it missing."

He snorted. Oh, someone had noticed it was missing alright - had noticed it the moment Cenner wrapped his gloved hands around the locket. A ward had been placed on it, so subtle and refined that not even his considerable magical skills had been able to detect it. Had Cenner known who the owner was, he never would have taken the bet. Hell, he never would have left his room and been subject to Mathius' insistent taunts.

The dying sun cast long shadows on the overgrown streets - just enough light for Cenner to navigate the broken steps. He paused upon the crumbling platform as a shiver ran up his spine. No one had worshiped here in centuries, so why did this place still reeked of incense?

He could hear the Magister's men in the distance, closing in tighter and tighter. Cenner did not have time to be wasting on superstitions. He knew these guards would not pause to enter such a place. These were chosen and skilled warriors, the best Tevinter had to offer. And when your master was the Archon himself, well… there was no room for failure.

He squeezed past a fallen column and into the main chamber. Cenner barely had time to slide behind an altar before thundering steps raced up the stairs. He lay still on the dusty ground and held his breath, grateful once again for his loose black robes. The altar was a large rectangular structure that hid him from view as long as he stayed lying down. The guards could not possibly hope to get through the same way he had.

True to his thoughts, he heard the guards mutter angrily and stomp away eager to find another way inside the temple, but not without leaving two men stationed at the blocked entrance.

A wry smile spread across his chapped lips, 'How smart.'

Cenner squinted in the growing darkness; he could now barely see his hand in front of his face let alone if there were any other escape routes. But darkness could be both a hindrance and a friend, this he knew well. If Cenner could not see, then neither could the stationed guards. In an attempt to stand up, he slowly slid his left hand against the floor, trying desperately to avoid making any noise. If he could just find a way out of this Maker forsaken temple, he could make a run for the old highway - maybe lay low for a while in Vol Dorma until another job came.

His shifted his weight again, putting additional pressure on his left hand.

Click

Cenner froze as the crisp sound filled the temple. He only had enough time to realize he had triggered a trap before the floor fell out from under him. In a woosh of stale air, the floor slid back and Cenner fell two floors down. Before he could even blink the trap above his head closed and he was entombed in utter darkness.

It had happened so quickly that he didn't even have time to scream. As he lay still on the hard cold ground, he took a moment to collect himself. His back ached and his one leg seemed hurt, but Cenner was able to roll on his side and slowly raise himself up. He gathered his mana and cast a bright blue orb of light. It was useless for all it did: he was in a tight square room of four grey walls. They were smooth, undecorated and most importantly, held no way to out.

He spun in a tight circle and let out grunt as his injured leg buckled, it was useless at the moment and all he could do was drag it around and numb the pain with magic. With his free hand, Cenner felt along the wall, praying, to just about every deity he knew, for some sort of leaver.

There was nothing.

Panicked and angry, Cenner threw his ball of mana at opposite wall. It was a stupid waste of resources, but at this point he could give a shit. He was sweaty, injured, low on mana, and stuck in a tight enclosed space with absolutely no way out. That stupid bet was going to cost him his life.

To his surprise, the once smooth grey wall became alight. A brilliant light blue, the same shade of lyrium filled the darkness.

Foreign words and symbols raced along the stone and Cenner quickly hobbled over to the wall to follow their path. Writing and web like lines curled and slithered from each corner, almost as if pulled by an invisible force. He watched with slack jawed amazement as the lines started to swarm together in a tight ball on one particular wall. The disjointed lines coiled like a large serpent, tight in a glowing ball.

It was the most beautiful thing Cenner had ever seen. He could not control himself as he reached out to glide his gloved fingers against the blue circle.

When his fingers touched, the calm blue magic pulsed once, then twice. On the third pulse, the blue transformed to a brilliant and blinding red. The colour changed started him enough that Cenner took a step back from the door. The magic which had once been calm and serene now seemed anxious and full of energy.

He was forced to cover his eyes in fear of becoming blind. A deep rumbling shook the small chamber and then once again, he was dropped back into darkness. Now very wary of his surroundings, Cenner slowly lit a ball of light with what little mana he had left – and subsequently let out a relieved breath.

Where pulsing red the magic had coalesced, now stood a long dark corridor. His mage-light only penetrating the dark corridor about a foot a head of himself and then it was plugged into a stale darkness. It was earie, this new passage way, but what choice did Cenner have?

His shoulders slipped against the smooth corridor as he went further into the hallway. He was by no means a large man, so it only highlighted how very narrow the space was. It was obviously designed so that only one person could move down it at a time.

The floor is very smooth and covered in a fine layer of dust. How long had it been since a soul was even in this part of the temple? The hallway seemed to be looping in a continuous and tight circle, and so Cenner found himself forever at the edge of a corner, never able to see more than a foot ahead. It was an amazingly unnerving feeling to be unaware of his destination. Was he simply travelling in circles? Was he moving upwards or downwards? He could not tell for the passageway had removed all his concept of navigation.

Cenner wiped the sweat off his brow, noticing how hand is now shaking. He has always had clever magic tricks, but not any sort of stamina to go along with it. It was becoming draining to keep the light up for such a prolonged period of time.

About half an hour into his forced exploration, he becomes both equal parts bored and worried. By now there should have been another door, or at least another level that the path led him to. Instead he just seemed to be going slowly nowhere. It has left him much time to think about what he plans to do to Mathius once he gets out of this very stupid position he has put himself in.

'Perhaps I should slit his throat when he asleep, Cenner ponders. After all Mathius is much bigger than I and more connected, can't let him know I am coming.' Cenner clenched his hands tightly around the circular locket in his pocket.

'All this misfortune for such a simple –'

Cenner's thought are interrupted by him stepping on thin air. He stumbles and rolls over his one good ankle as he tries to avoid falling down completely. It viciously twists his already injured leg forcing him to let out a pained wail. The sound echoes in the darkness and now there are ten of him crying out against the pain.

It is a deeply unsettling effect

His mage-light wavers, weak against his growing fatigue. However when Cenner looked up from the stairs he had just tripped down, he was pleasantly surprised to see a door.

He took a shaky breath as his eyes roved over the masterpiece. It had to be the most lavish door he had ever seen. It glowed golden in his pale light, with hints of rubies and diamonds littered throughout the intricately carved scenes.

He could make out the masterful renditions of dragons in mid battle, soring over tiny cities. Jade trees rose from the base of the door to swirl and mingle with the iron worked cities inlayed in the gold.

He sucked in a sharp breath. This was probably worth more than many cities in Tevinter. Hell, maybe even greater than the Archon's wealth. What was such a beautiful and valuable door doing down in an old forgotten temple?

And then another thought struck Cenner. If this was just a door, then what lay beyond it?

With an eager grin he hauled himself up and searched for a handle. But despite the overwhelming detail of the door, it seemed to lack a significant feature. There was no opening device.

A startling pain made him gasp and reach down to his leg. He touched something wet and thick as he did so. Slowly, and with dread, he pulled back his hand to examine it in his light. As suspected, thick blood was all over the appendage.

Now, Cenner had seen violence over the years, it was unavoidable in the streets he lived in. But blood always made him feel light headed – he could never stand the colour of it. He swooned and put his hand against the door in an effort to keep steady against the growing black overtaking his vision.

He felt something slitter and hiss under his hand.

Immediately he removed his hand from the door and shoved his mage-light in front of him. In amazement he watched as once imobile jade trees stared to slide against one another. Some disappeared back into the gold door while other limbs slid over each other as if untying a complicated knot.

As he watched the movement, he noticed that his bloody handprint seemed to be slowly sucked into the door. A shiver went down his spine as the door continued to move and draw it his blood as it did so. It was now apparent that the only way to open this door was to use blood. He had seen this type of blood-magic locking spell before, but never to such a degree.

In no time at all, all the jade trees had disappeared within the gold. A second later the heavy door clicked and swung open, gliding soundlessly against the dusty grounds.

Eager to see what treasures lay beyond, Cenner hobbled into the room and pumped as much manna as he could into his light. What he found left him feeling utterly and devastatingly disappointed.

It was another room of grey nothingness. The walls were dark and bereft of design. The floors covered in a thick layer of dust. The air hung thick and dry, and the only sound was that of the agitated breaths of Cenner as he faced the bleakness of it all.

The only difference between this chamber and the last was a high stone tomb which took up the majority of the space. It too, like the chamber itself, was devoid of any decoration.

Cenner hobbled over to the stark stone structure. It was thick and tall, coming up to his chest. There was a very obvious line near the top that looked like a lid.

Ever the opportunist, Cenner sighed and thought, 'Perhaps treasure could be found here. Maybe this whole shit storm won't be worth nothing after all.'

He set his body against the lid and heaved with all his might. He grunted againt the strain it put on his injured leg, but the thought of gold kept him going. He took a deep breath and leaned against the lid again.

With a sudden jerk, it slid violently across its base and fell over the edge. He cringed as the stone lid smashed against the floor.

He leaned back over the open tomb and peered inside. Inside the stone box lay a still figure draped in fine white silk. It covered the person from head to foot in a glossy and shimmering shroud. Cenner tentatively reached forward to touch the fabric.

It was the softest thing he had ever felt, possible the finest fabric he had ever seen. Again he found himself wondering what something so pristine and untouched was doing down in a dusty old temple.

Cenner slowly removed his hand from the cloth and hissed at the now no-longer pristine white fabric. In his haste to feel its texture, he had forgotten his hand was soiled with blood. He regretted his lack of foresight immensely – nothing so beautiful deserved to be stained.

However, like the door to the chamber, it seemed some sort of blood magic had been worked into the very fiber of the fabric. He watched in sick fascination as his bloody handprint seeped into the threads and quickly snaked across the entire length of the shroud. It was very like watching dye race across wet fabric.

Soon the red threads thinned out and started to form a shape on the blanket. All colour left his face as Cenner watched the form of a person slowly materialize across the fabric. It outlined the very figure that lay beneath.

A sudden stillness filled the air. All sound, even his own breathing, seemed to be sucked away from the small room. It felt like a heavy weight was sitting on Cenner's chest, and he found he could not move.

His hands shook against this new feeling and sweat dripped down his brow. Everything in his body was screaming for him to move… to run. But Cenner found himself frozen by some unnameable fear.

A sudden gasp startled Cenner out of whatever paralysis he had come under. His injured leg buckled causing him to lurch forward, grasping the other side of the open tomb to stay standing.

He was now face to face with the bloodied shroud.

His eyes widened in horror as we watched a puff of air lift the fabric where the face should lay beneath. It happed two more times before Cenner was able to unscramble his terrified thoughts and push himself up into a fully semi-standing position.

With violently shaking hands, he slowly curled his fingers around the top part of the cloth. Taking a steadying breath, Cenner slowly inched the fabric over the still head and down past the shoulders.

What greeted his sight was beyond shocking.

Instead of a finding decaying mummy underneath the blood stained cloth, he found a very alive woman.

She lay perfectly still aside from her shallow breaths. Cenner squinted against the wavering light, taking in this startling person. From what he could see, her skin was pale, but had the definite flush of life to her. She was clad in an outfit which seemed just as opulent and finely crafted as the door to the chamber.

Having just reached his 30th year, Cenner was by no means an old man, but looking at this peaceful woman, he couldn't help but feel all his years. She radiated a youthful glow that tugged at his heart. A sudden and overwhelming urge to care for this young lady overtook him. She looked so vulnerable and so very very young.

Gently, Cenner touched her neck looking for a pulse point. When his fingers grazed her soft neck, it felt like an strong electrical current burned up his fingers. He gasped and tried to pull away, but found a delicate hand clamped around his wrist.

His eyes moved away from his detained hand to the face of the sleeping woman. Only she was no longer asleep.

It was like he was in a daze, starring open mouthed at the mysterious woman. He watched in amazement as she released his wrist and looked around. She leaned on one of her arms, but before she could move further, Cenner swooped in and helped pull her into a sitting position.

Her head violently whipped in his direction, the harsh movement startling him and causing him to take a step back.

Her eyes sparkled like glass in the weakening light, "You dare to touch me…and yet do not bow?"

What type of question was that? Cenner took a couple wobbling steps away from the apparently very-alive woman and shook his head. This was bizarre, no…stranger than bizarre, this was simply crazy.

He licked his chapped lips, "I…why…" he cleared his throat and tried again, "who are you? Why are you even down here?"

Her eyes hardened, "Do you know where you are?" Her voice was not that of a young inexperienced womans'. It was slightly husky and had a lilt to it that oozed culture and education. Not even the highest magisters sounded so well polished.

The contrast between appearance and voice caused him to pause. At her raised eyebrow he stumbled, "I know I am in a temple, but other than that, I have not a clue."

She turned her head to the side and eyed him with suspicion, "then how came you to be in the inner sanctum?"

"The inner…what?"

She looked away from him then. Her neck craned all the way back as she intently gazed upon the ceiling and walls. What she was looking at was beyond Cenner, for he saw nothing at all.

Quickly she turned back to him, "What year is it? Have those foolish Magisters finally decided to show their faces yet?"

She waved a hand, simultaneously clearing the stale air and stalling his response, "No I suppose they haven't. But then again, what self-respecting Magister could ever hope to hold high court after that debacle?"

Cenner hesitated, unsure whether he was supposed to answer. This strange woman seemed to be holding her own council.

Pitch black hair fell to the floor as she leaned down over the stone ledge and took a small jump. She landed daintily on the smooth stone floors, and for a short moment Cenner found himself distracted by the small plum of dust that encircled her feet.

She straightened up and smoothed her high collar and she rearranged her fine silk dress suit. With a frown she stated, " Who did those humans think they were, trying to break into the Golden City like that and –,"

He stumbled against the impossibility of her words, his wavering mage-light extinguishing in his shock. Not a second later, a different source of light filled the space in a yellow glow.

Her eyes reflected the light spectacularly as she held a mage-fire delicately her palm. They glittered and shifted like opal and seemed as sharp as steel. Cenner found himself frozen in this woman's apprising stare.

She tilted her head and the paralyzing effect ended. Shaken breath, Cenner whispered, "What do you mean….the Golden City? It can't…you can't –,"

With a lazy wave the mysterious woman cast her mage-fire against the walls. It bounced off the wall in a silent shower of sparks. Each ember which fell to the ground kept its glow, like stars upon the earth.

"Where is head priest Lucasian? I find it odd that he would send someone so…" she paused and eyed him with distinctly arrogant air, "inexperienced, to deal with my awakening."

He paused, truly at a loss for words.

She took an agitated step towards him, "Well? Has a cat got your tongue? I have had enough breach in propriety to last me two of your lifetimes. I should have at least one offering here for me, and what do I get instead?" she circled around him, stalking like a cat, "one very damaged and apparently mute servant."

Incised at her tone and assumptions, Cenner stood up as straight as possible, "Listen here lady. I don't know who you are, or who the hell you think I am, but I am no servant, least of all a servant to some priest named Lucasian. I also don't think there have been any priests here for a long long time."

In a flash she stood right before him, barely an inch between them. He jumped at her sudden appearance and piercing gaze as she insistently asked, "What year is it?"

He sighed again at the question, "9:41 Dragon."

Her eyes glazed over as she mumbled, "9:41…Dragon? This cannot be right. I was supposed to be awakened long before –,"

She then settled her gaze directly on him. She leaned forward as she purred, "It seems we have had a change in plans."

A shiver raced down Cenner's spine at her tone of voice. It was smooth as silk, but something seemed dangerously wrong. He took a limping step back, but she just smiled and matched him step for step, "You see… I need mana. But more importantly, I need answers to some very very important questions. And you are going to give them to me."

He took another step back and hit a wall. He was now trapped between this slip of a woman and an unmoving wall. Taking his chances with the stranger, he grabbed both her upper arms in an attempt to push her aside.

She did not move, not even one inch. It was like trying to move stone.

Brows furrowed in anger, she quickly grabbed him around the throat. Slowly her fingers tightened and her nails pierced her skin. He tried to push her, to claw her hands and pull them away. But to his horror, Cenner realized she was far stronger than he.

Her eyes flashed deep purple, silver and then pink in the golden light. A slow smile crept along her face as she held Cenner off the ground, "You said that you did not know who I was." She pulled his face closer to hers, now they were nose to nose, "Well, then let me educate you…"

Cenner screamed as she dropped him on the ground. A loud crack filled the air as his weight landed on his injured leg. It lay completely broken beneath him - he let out a desperate whimper as his head dropped to the ground in exhaustion.

She leaned over him as her thin fingers gently combed his lose and matted hair away from his forehead, "That is right, kneel before your gods." she whispered.

Cenner saw a flash of silver out of the corner of his eye. He quickly looked up only to have a stinging sensation run across his throat. In disbelief, he weakly brought a hand up to his neck. Thick blood flowed over his fingers and down his chest to drip on the floor.

Eye wide in fear, he tried to scream but only blood oozed out between Cenner's lips. In his dimming vision he watched as the woman cleaned her dagger and put it back up her sleeve.

He sunk to the floor as she gazed at him solemnly, "I am Razikale… and I accept your offering."