Burning Bridges

Garrett took a step back, his booming voice announced his decision to side with the Templars. His swift decision in killing Anders without a flinch (despite being lovers) made Varric wince a bit but he gets it. The man destroyed so many lives, the last hope for peace. Varric sneered in his head that Anders didn't deserve redemption, not after that at least. On the other hand, however, another voice echoes, reminding him that Anders also helped Bartrand out and Varric asked Hawke to spare his brother, despite him putting everyone's lives in danger. He shook his head as he fiddles with Bianca's handle, mind wandering once more.

While Varric was musing, the champion turned to his other mage companions, Sevalra being the first that his eyes landed on. As he was about to start his execution, Alva steps in, face blank and consumed with absolute apathy. Garrett never listened to her, broke her trust so many times, so she doesn't give a damn what he thinks or wants. All that matters is what Sebastian wants and while she doesn't care nor want to side with Garrett, Sebastian seemed to appreciate his execution of that wicked Apostate. So she doesn't intervene.

But she wont let him have this victory.

Alva stared at her long time companion, the elf-mage who would listen (probably because she was putting up with her), who would quietly give her advice (because she was waiting for a time to betray her, of course), and who made her feel like family even if it's just for a bit (lieslieslieSLIESLIES--). She draws her Renegade's Ruin and places Penalty in between the string, her face devoid of mercy. She hears Hawke's snort from her back and her teeth gnashed in rage. She doesn't care, no. It doesn't matter. Sebastian's orders are absolute and he's the only one who would listen, actually listen--'The Chantry boy and blond Templar, Alva? Really?'--to her thoughts--'M-My family was slaughtered by the T-Templars... But Hawke says my magic is good...'--and her opinions--'I-I'll support you no matter what...'

"You don't care, Sevalra. No... you're not going to fool me anymore, Nalora de Antiva."

Sevalra's once stoic face crumbles, staring at the young rogue who she treated like a sister. The way she spoke her old name, full of contempt and anger... It was as if there was no recognition in her eyes. Her words echoed in her pointed ears, somehow muting the rumble and chaos around them. Merrill was saying something to her but she couldn't hear the poor elf, Maker bless her soul, but only the sound of Alva's beloved bow being pulled back and pure tension covering the party.

Accepting her fate, the ice mage closed her eyes, waiting for the arrow-blade to pierce her. Shouts errupted from behind as an apostate attacked the Champion's companions, and dragging Sevalra away from the immediate danger. Her teal eyes once more searched for her friend's own deep blue ones, hoping.

She saw sad, desperate eyes, waving farewell and deep bitterness swallowing her whole. The rogue in red turned around and didn't look back, her form standing next to the young prince of Starkhaven.

Sevalra turns and doesn't look back as well.