Hand of the Maker - prologueMore Like This
" Then you'll be on your way, Shem."
"Understood. We won't impose on you for a minute longer than is absolutely necessary.
Anders could just make out their words as his brain dragged itself reluctantly into consciousness. His head was a wad of cotton, and it was with a great effort that he managed to open his eyes a crack to get his bearings.
The first person who had spoken was marching smartly away, towards red sails and treetops.
Dalish. The thought connected and Anders suddenly understood why he'd been unable to place the smells and sounds around him. He was outside. Far away from the city; from any city from the feel of it. Far away from Kirkwall.
Oh, Maker. He'd really done it. Memories hit him in a rush and a hand involuntarily went to his brow, pressing his temples as he squeezed his eyes back shut and fought against the horrible onslaught of emotion. He could see everyone's faces at the moment of the blast. He could hear Sebastian's violent th
SpeechlessAlistair stood at the cliff, staring into the distance. The Black City, chained and distant, no longer drew his interest, and the shifting appearance of the landscape that had so fascinated him when he’d first arrived barely received a glance. Mostly he stood on the cliff, so that he wouldn’t have to look at—More Like This
With a grimace he threaded his fingers together and squeezed them hard, the pain stopping the thought before it ended. Odd how pain is still so real here, he mused as he drew his hands apart and shook them gently. It had been a shock when he’d arrived, too, though the agony then had been more of the heart than of the body. A hand reached up reflexively to his neck, tracing the clean, straight line of a scar that always lingered. Quickly he lowered it, forcing his thoughts elsewhere than that last fateful day of his life.
As always when he stood there, his gaze eventually dropped down, to the nothingness below him. The ground he stood upon had no de