Eleanor never thought she will become a leader of the Inquisition, even fall in love with a Templar. The one she loved so dearly becomes her enemy and the one she used to afraid of became a part of her life.
Eleanor was never been taken to the circl...
Deze afbeelding leeft onze inhoudsrichtlijnen niet na. Verwijder de afbeelding of upload een andere om verder te gaan met publiceren.
Elenor was never a believer, she never prayed by her choice never visited a chantry if there was no one to take her to. She never understood the ones who believed in Maker or other gods however respected them for their choice. However, somehow she found herself standing in front of the little room with a statue in it, a statue that represented someone people believed in. Someone that was supposed to protect them from the danger. But never did, however, they never stop to believe in it. The chosen one, Herald of Andraste. She thought to herself. The day they fought the wardens proved that she wasn't one her people thought her to be. It didn't surprise her, she never believed in the gods nor in Heralds. She survived just because of one woman. A woman that was her friend, a woman that died in order to save her. She still remembers that day as if it happened yesterday. Hawke pusher her towards the rift saying that she was more important than her. She shouldn't have been forced to save her, she was forced to choose between her life or hers and yet she did. A mark saved her yet again. But now that everyone knew she wasn't the Herald they believed her to be she was afraid that they will turn their backs on her. She wasn't special, not immortal. Just an ordinary woman with a mark on her hand. A mark that described her. A mark that people will remember. Not her, not her name but the mark.
She brushed her fingers against the little green line on her palm remembering the pain it brought her nearly every night. The pain it brings her when she closes one of the rifts and even more pain that it will bring. But that didn't stop her, it never will because if she won't endure it then the world will fall. That much she knew.
-Though all before is the shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifted roads of the beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's light and nothing that he has wrought shall be lost." She heard a voice that she knew so well, the voice that she missed every night before she fell asleep and every morning when she woke up. Slowly Eleanor opened the doors trying to make as little sound as possible. There he was on his knees, praying to someone that in her eyes didn't exist. To someone that won't answer him but it didn't matter to him, what mattered was that he believed in the power it had. She made her way towards him, standing beside him as quietly as she could. His eyes closed. "For those, we have lost and those I'm afraid to lose." Her heart sank at his words. How many people were endangered living outside the Skyhold walls afraid to even leave their homes.
-You're afraid?" she asked before she could stop herself, his eyes shot up at her voice. A sigh left his lips as he turned his head back to look at the statue.
-Of course, I am, Corypheus possed that Grey Warden at Mythal what more is he capable of? Its only a matter of time before he retaliates. We must draw strength whatever we can." He stood up facing her. His brows furrowed however his eyes watching her with sadness. "When the time comes you will be thrown in his path again, Andraste preserve me I must send you to him" his eyes closed pain washing over his handsome features. Something shifted in her. As if it was only now she realized what is waiting for her. She was so busy saving the others that the thought of dying was hidden far away in her mind. Perhaps it was her last days in his world and she was wasting it on foolish arguments and poor decisions.
