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[Anaeme]

Crossroads

 

The Qunari were gone, vanished from the crossroads in the same sudden fashion they appeared. Visible for miles, the residue of ruin left in their wake registered an unrelenting imprint of violence on the landscape. 

 

For what seemed like an eternity, Sandal Feddic pondered the destruction. Shattered columns, unexploded Gatlock barrels, petrified Qunari remains, not far from his position, the dilapidated aspect of the ancient Vir Dirthara towered into the air.

 

It was quiet. The crash of steel and cries of the dying had given way to a deafening silence.

 

In this place, he could work and not be disturbed

 

Moments passed. Then appearing to center himself, Sandal thrust both arms forward and whispered

 

“Anum  Jooh…”

 

To the listening ear the words were uttered like fragments torn from the tide of some greater harmony...

 

There was a flash, and a strange charge filled the air as the whispered words lingered and morphed into a wondrous melody.

 

Sandal stepped back. The pervading rush of harmony appeared to emanate from a point before him, a locus of power shrouded in a white vaporous mist.

 

Without diverting his focus he reached into the folds of his clothing and retrieved a small box covered in protective runes. Next he emptied its contents with a wave of hand in the direction of the mist

 

Tendrils of purified Lyrium drifted outward from the box, tracing a silver train toward the formless vapor

 

Upon contact the vapors flared intensely, catalyzed by the Lyrium.  The charge of music in the air rose and for several moments an object suddenly visible inside the mist appeared to dismember and reshape.

 

“Maroko” Sandal whispered longingly. 

 

Then came a boom…like the sound of a cannon heard from afar, it was the sign he had been waiting for, the moment the Maroko finally became real in the world.  

 

The ensuing shockwave momentarily knocked Sandal off balance. When he shuffled back to his feet the mist had vanished and the melody with it. All that remained was the object of his spell, the Maroko.

 

 “Enchantment”!  Sandal exulted as he lifted the translucent plume. A pure cast of flowing Lyrium frozen in time.

[Anaeme]

For it is said that the magnificent June concealed many wonders, that the world may not be undone by their knowing…

 

 

When Sandal’s journey began, he had tracked the Qunari into the Crossroads seeking loot for Bodhan. Once he reached the Vir Dirthara however, everything changed.

 

Within the Shattered Library he discovered fragments of an ancient tome where he learned of master artisans who performed near impossible feats with Lyrium.  

 

Among these marvels were artifacts of pure lyrium crafted to empower magic, crystals used to preserve the seed of ancient dynasties and treasured bloodlines. They made lyrium bulbs which bore enough energy to keep entire towns warm in the winter.

 

Craving greater understanding Sandal returned to the Shattered Library again and again despite the raging battle within the crossroads between Viddasala’s Qunari and the Dread Wolf.

 

One afternoon he was accosted during his search by a minion of Viddasala. The encounter instantly turned hostile. 

 

The Qunari attacked first, swinging his Bassrath Kata to cleave the dwarf. Mid swing he noticed Sandal appear to phase slightly out of position. The weapon landed on the stone with an earsplitting clang.

 

Enraged by the miss the Qunari reared back and primed a charge attack, this time he was aware that he was not moving fast enough to ram Sandal into the wall. Time seemed to slow as his entire mass crashed into the wall and Sandal stepped aside.

 

The Qunari howled barely able to move. Behind him he perceived something change again. Sandal was suddenly four distinct dwarves, identical in every respect and armed with stakes.

 

‘Ebasit hissra…” The Qunari swore as the world itself slowed to a halt and one Sandal after another took turns to impale him.

 

The battle proved to be a boon for Sandal’s search, the Archivist was impressed and extremely grateful for his actions. He approached Sandal with an offer of help;

 

“You are worthy child of stone, but the knowledge you seek is hidden. It was hidden by the wonder maker, the magnificent June”

 

With a sweeping gesture the spirit suddenly transformed itself into a living portal. Where its limbs once stood, a pulsating window now beckoned. Only its head continued to speak.

 

“Heed the words of Ghil Dirthalen and sail on the wings of song into halls of wonder” 

[Anaeme]

Sandal was overcome by a rush of sounds upon entering the portal, a strange perception of floating within an unending current.  

 

At first the sounds were a cacophony filling a white sightless void. No sense of time, no sense of position, no sense of place.

 

His disorientation was severe and with it the urge to panic. Overcoming a sudden impulse to struggle Sandal remembered the spirit’s command:

 

“sail on the wings of song…”

 

Sandal calmed his mind, allowing the sounds to invade his consciousness. The notes poured in like a flood, wave after wave rising in intensity against the impenetrable fog that obscured his senses.

 

With each wave breaking harmlessly upon his psyche, He surrendered a little more to its gentle caress until at last he ceased to resist.

 

It was then that he perceived something new, a hauntingly beautiful sound, like a voice behind an opened door, a thread of melody twisting through a maze.

 

He reached out and as the melody wafted over his mind, moments of clarity began to break through the void.

 

He saw images flicker past…wisps of events he could barely recognize.

 

 A massive great dragon by the Hafter river, eyes incandescent in the approaching dusk as it shapeshifted into the Fereldan King Calenhad.

 

Next a golden arrow in flight, tainted with crimson beads of Andruil’s blood as it wound its way toward Anaris.

 

As the images sailed past the music grew stronger until it pervaded Sandal’s entire being.