I Pray For My People
I pray every day now.
Not for myself, but for my people.
Not just my people, the Dalish. Not just my people, the elves. Not just my people, the mages.
I pray for my people.
I pray for the men and women who carry the banners of the Inquisition, these humans and elves and dwarves and qunari, Dalish and Andrastian and Ancestors, Circle and Apostate.
I pray for these people who are going out into the world and fighting with my name on their lips. For the Herald. For the Inquisitor. For the Inquisition.
I pray for their sake.
For their safety.
I pray to the Creators, to Andraste and her Maker, to the Avvar Old Gods, to the Stone, that someone, anyone who might be listening will hear me and protect these people.
I am scared.
My advisors tell me to trust in the people of the Inquisition, the soldiers, spies, and diplomats that are working for me, and I do trust them, but I worry.
Someone, anyone, if you hear me, please shelter these people in the times that my reach is too far. Save your children from the evil I am forced to face. If I am to face this horror, I beg of you, please, let me suffer in their stead.
I will never want to stand at the back of this army on a pedestal while they fall to the arrows and swords of my enemies.
Please, let me stand before them so I might bear the blows in their stead.
Let me kneel as though in worship as I spend myself to the bottoms of my mana well so that I might mend their wounds and wash the blood from their dying lips, so that these people can look me in the eyes and know I did not wish this on their last breaths.
Because we are not a separate people any more.
They are my people.
And I am theirs.
I pray every day for my people.
-Inquisitor Aetherius Lavellan né Alerion

















