Sisters in villages pay coin for bones of spurious origin. Knights will be sent out to die in the quest for ashes that might heal the sick. Who is to say then that a dragon is not Andraste risen again? [The Fifth Blight was not always an entirely harrowing time, but she lifts these three because this is what happens, this is what the world is as she has seen it: chasing at loose ends to have something, and if by that logic she might exist, then why not a dragon?
There is Morrigan's own mother who lives and lives again.
Who is the dragon. (The shape of the divine, no less.) Easier to say for her when she lived it herself, when she saw Haven as it was, blood-soaked, wretched, children with their dark rhymes, daggers above the scholar in a corrupted Chantry. (Justinia as much a madwoman for having the Conclave there, and she wonders why she never thought to ask Leliana more about the whole business.)]
Spirits are the same to the Chasind, more with animalistic or the seasons personified but given the splitting off from the Alamarri, well, we know the history. [And ah, the Seeker who knows more than a Templar would. Who has done his reading. Who has learnt his lessons.] Somniari whispering in the ears, sowing enough discord perhaps, or bending those to their will as needed; could you imagine, Seeker? To be faced by one with such might? If you possessed but a shadow or nothing at all compared to their power? What do you think you would feel like in the face of that? Small, one imagines. Unworthy, perhaps? Or as a Seeker it may be impossible, I know there are Templars who would find themselves incapable of seeing themselves as anything but superior to all once in their charge even now. Magic comes from the Fade so if you believe in the Maker, then the Maker did indeed make them.
Or... [And this is where she must pause, must lean close with that coy smile on her face] it comes from the elves. They had Uthenera after all. They were first. They had great skills and power beyond comprehension. Some part of me does wonder if they were the very first to possess that power in those days for I have seen what they have left behind, what they constructed that goes beyond what any mage is capable of now.
[And if ancient elves have created such things...well, they have created them. They have created them without being taught for they required no teacher but themselves, time, effort, failure. She is alarmed and intrigued in equal measure.]
I have spent near a year in the attempt to find my mother, a woman the Dalish name Asha'bellanar, the Chasind Mother of Vengeance. 'Tis a quest that has sent me places I thought not to return nor venture to, yet I have gone to find things...I am uncertain what to make of. They leave even a Witch of the Wilds with questions.
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There is Morrigan's own mother who lives and lives again.
Who is the dragon. (The shape of the divine, no less.) Easier to say for her when she lived it herself, when she saw Haven as it was, blood-soaked, wretched, children with their dark rhymes, daggers above the scholar in a corrupted Chantry. (Justinia as much a madwoman for having the Conclave there, and she wonders why she never thought to ask Leliana more about the whole business.)]
Spirits are the same to the Chasind, more with animalistic or the seasons personified but given the splitting off from the Alamarri, well, we know the history. [And ah, the Seeker who knows more than a Templar would. Who has done his reading. Who has learnt his lessons.] Somniari whispering in the ears, sowing enough discord perhaps, or bending those to their will as needed; could you imagine, Seeker? To be faced by one with such might? If you possessed but a shadow or nothing at all compared to their power? What do you think you would feel like in the face of that? Small, one imagines. Unworthy, perhaps? Or as a Seeker it may be impossible, I know there are Templars who would find themselves incapable of seeing themselves as anything but superior to all once in their charge even now. Magic comes from the Fade so if you believe in the Maker, then the Maker did indeed make them.
Or... [And this is where she must pause, must lean close with that coy smile on her face] it comes from the elves. They had Uthenera after all. They were first. They had great skills and power beyond comprehension. Some part of me does wonder if they were the very first to possess that power in those days for I have seen what they have left behind, what they constructed that goes beyond what any mage is capable of now.
[And if ancient elves have created such things...well, they have created them. They have created them without being taught for they required no teacher but themselves, time, effort, failure. She is alarmed and intrigued in equal measure.]
I have spent near a year in the attempt to find my mother, a woman the Dalish name Asha'bellanar, the Chasind Mother of Vengeance. 'Tis a quest that has sent me places I thought not to return nor venture to, yet I have gone to find things...I am uncertain what to make of. They leave even a Witch of the Wilds with questions.