In which a Dalish pariah crosses paths with the Dread Wolf, and nearly burns Thedas to the ground in the process.
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This takes place during the events of Dragon Age 2 and...
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"Dreamt a dream,
now I'm spitting bitter tears."
- What Love Looks Like by Mirel Wagner
DEEP IN THE WOODS outside of Kirkwall, two trespassers crossed paths. Naturally, as with all tales of intrigue, the familiar strangers met in the dead of night.
"It appears that you've finally awoken from your slumber," Mythal, with her silver-spun curls and her cunning smile, surveyed Fen'Harel from across the forest clearing.
Fen'Harel lifted his frostbitten eyes to greet hers with impassivity.
Even in his weakened form, the ancient god of Betrayal exuded a notable power that Mythal and the other Evanuris had wrongfully underestimated. With bitter amusement, her eyes raked over his sculpted body and she observed that he was now clean-shaven compared to his previously feral appearance. His regal features remained, however, just as calculating and impassive as ever. He knelt next to a fire, a lethal calmness in his gaze.
Mythal stepped closer to the Dread Wolf, choosing her steps carefully.
Her eyes lowered briefly out of anger over the fact that he had kept his form and she had to sacrifice hers. While possessing Flemeth certainly had been entertaining for the past centuries, she missed the eternal youth her previous body had possessed. Although, she had come to see that her vessel held its own beauty and power.
The moon hung low between the ancient gods, almost in reverence.
"It is good to see you too, dear friend," he replied, his voice holding no warmth.
Mythal smiled at this and raised her eyebrows.
"You lie just as sweetly," she remarked, circling him. "How familiar this all feels. And I suppose you already know why I'm here."
Fen'Harel's eyes bore into hers before settling on the flames.
"This world should never have come to pass," he replied with finality. "There is no other option than to fix my mistake. You cannot change my mind."
Mythal let out a cruel laugh.
"Oh, how I've missed your fanaticism with self-destruction," Mythal hummed. "And it's true, I understand better than anyone not to stand in your cataclysmic path. Although, I do know of someone who shares an opposite sentiment."
A flicker of emotion, an almost unnoticeable crack in his mask, revealed that she had been accurate in her assumption.
"And she is precisely why you're here, outside of an insignificant city, speaking to a friend who is neither dear nor pleasant to be around," she continued as her steps slowed around him. She relished in his unfamiliar hesitance. "For one so cunning, you are ineffably foolish."
