Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Bioware, of course; I just thought that I would try to write this as a token of my love ;)
A/N: Sorry for the short first chapter, I just wanted to get this out there. Please review, suggestions are welcome.
Chapter 1: Dreams Always Fade
A tiny elven girl dances in a meadow, her whole being overcome by the joy of the sights surrounding her. She chases a vibrant blue butterfly, laughing merrily as it flits out of reach. Giving up the chase, she runs into the extended arms of her mother, whose face she drinks in as she is spun around, giggling. She is as happy as it is possible to be; nothing could spoil this moment of joy and love.
With a start, Ayla awoke from her dream. As she always does when waking from a memory, she struggled to remember the details of her mother's face, but they slipped away like water falling from the tower roof. No matter how many times she tried, it got harder and harder to remember any details of her life before the Tower.
She gave up, and turned her thoughts instead to what had woken her. She listened carefully, and heard a failed attempt to muffle the clanging footsteps of armored boots on the cold stone floor of the hallway outside. She smiled wryly to herself. Templars act all high and mighty, but they fall prey to desire like most other men. This one probably arranged to meet some apprentice girl tonight, but didn't even think to take off his armor first. Fool. Then again, I'm not quite sure templars even have any normal clothing. They certainly keep it well hidden, if they do.
But as she listened longer she realized she was wrong; there were two templars. They conversed in tones too quiet for her to understand. With puzzlement, she sat up in her bed, straining her ears to try to catch a snatch of their conversation. Then, in a panic, she heard them approach the door to the apprentice dormitory. Springing into action, she slammed herself back down and pulled the covers over herself, just in time. The door opened, and the two figures enter the room.
"Bed…nine, was it?" one of them asked the other in a whisper that was oddly distorted by the bucket-like helm he wore. Ayla had to stifle a small gasp; bed nine was her bed! She heard the crinkling of paper; probably the other checking a list. She then heard a creaking, like armor being scraped across itself. A nod, maybe?
The footsteps got closer, and Ayla didn't think she had ever been more scared. Suddenly, a gauntleted hand was placed over her mouth. In terror, she screamed, but the sound was too muffled by the hand to be heard, coming out only as a sort of tinny whisper. Thrashing in unrestrained panic, she stared up at her assailant, searching desperately for some sort of weakness she could exploit to escape his grasp.
"Ayla, it's me!" whispered a voice she knew well. Breathing a sigh of relief, Ayla recognized the voice of Cullen, and fell still. Her eyes, two pinpricks of light in the darkened room, still held a question.
Answering them, Cullen took a deep breath. "Apprentice, it is time for your Harrowing."
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