•DAY 7•
•LOSS•
The air felt heavier and heavier, the further they went in the temple. "She wields the broken sword, and separates true kings from tyrants." The description brings something to her mind. "Mercy." "Yes. I could not bear the sight of Andraste's suffering, and mercy bade me end her life. I am the penitent sinner, who shows compassion as he hopes compassion will be shown to him." The riddle lingered on her mind as the spirit faded away. Her companions also quiet, taking the moment in. The tall, ancient room had beautiful, pointed arches carved in its walls, nesting an altar in each. A slow click echoed in the room as the big heavy door unlocked itself and creeped open, the old hinges screeching at the unexpected motion. Amell cautiously approached the door, the sconces on the hallway it led to slowly lighting the way ahead. Andraste's statue at the yet unlit deep end towers over the man-like figure at its foot. She froze at the unexpected sight. Another spirit? This one seems solid. It's hard to tell in the darkness from this far. As the torches lit up along, a familiar face is revealed
~•~
Jowan
