A/N,

Welcome to the first of the Dragonborne series- Dragonborne. I hope you enjoy this as I actually enjoyed writing this. Luckily for you all I will be writing a few chapters before posting anything. So by the time you read this I most likely will already have wrote five or so chapters. This will help both me and you, so if I get sick or am not in the mood I can post a chapter or two and not have to worry about writing. Also if I get ten more follows/favorites, or reviews that may make me update an extra chapter as reward.

On another note- my friend has got me into another series… dun dun duuun. Lord of the rings. Now I know I will be making a LOTR fan-fiction but I don't know when. I have already been neglecting my other story and I don't want to completely drop it.

Not beta'd

I don't own any of the Dragon age games or plots. (Only my OC's and plot changes)

Days have passed and they were long and painful. It would be a lie to say that they passed in a blur. They did not. They were clearer than crystal and sharper than any knife. Every one of us should have known it would happen. We didn't think it would. We lived our lives normally not caring in the least. The truth is that people were dying around us. Some were natural, in their sleep, heart attack, or some other organ failure. Other deaths were not. They were drawing closer to us, so close in fact one day it was our turn.

Remembering hurts, but that is also what kept me sane in the long run. My memories of darkness, my memories of soft pain and loneliness. I was alone- always alone. It didn't matter to me though. I was strong and every time I fell down I could get back up. This time I wasn't falling. I was shoved and tied to the ground. I was an animal waiting to be slaughtered. Even those animals had food and were not treated more harshly than needed. They were going to die anyways. Why be even crueler to them?

We are not fed or even spoken to. When we were, they are insults spat in our faces, raw in such hatred it was felt in the air. Our capturers were fierce and always had masks covering their faces. They were odd and twisted, animal clay masks with features painted on with pale colors. Not realistic but it brought us terror whenever we saw them.

Sitting in a gray ten by ten room, most people were huddled together. It gave them some sense of security. I, however, sat with my legs curled to my chest alone, my back against one of the corners of the room. I was sweating heavily and my body ached all over. My now sickly pale skin was covered in burn marks. Some had writing, writing I never bothered to read. It was itchy and leathery, not yet healed. It peeled and felt tight and stretched. My mouth stung and tingled. I let my tongue wander over to where my left molar used to be. Now there is only a hole, bloody and swollen.

My head slowly lowered to my knees and I closed my eyes. Sleep rarely came and, when it did, I fell in and out of it. I was being tortured both in reality and my dreams. I no longer felt that gut wrenching terror. It was more of a heavy sense of dread and more the fear of how I will die rather than the death itself. I have come to terms with it (I have not accepted it). I will die and there is nothing I can do about it. I almost thought I may die of starvation and dehydration then the masked people killing me. Truly I can't remember when I last ate or drank. My memories of this place are so twisted in torment and pain. I…I don't want to go down that road.

My gaze flashed up slowly as the foreboding creak of the door echoed around the room. Everyone froze stiff. They just sat still as a statue not wanting it to be their turn. I just wanted it to be over. Waiting for death drained everything from me. Slowly a person walked in, head held high and black combat boots almost deafeningly loud as he walked across the tile floor. The person calmly surveyed the room. The mask was blank except for the small slits where the eyes were. By the way they held themselves, I assumed they were male.

It felt as if a bucket of ice water was thrown on me, his eyes fell on me and stayed. I didn't let my harsh silver eyes waver. I kept them trained on that single man. With his hands behind his back the man leisurely made his way over. Not moving from my position, I kept my eyes trained on his every move. I could feel the hairs on my arm and neck rise. Stopping a few feet in front of me, he crouched down and grabbed my chin. I swallowed sharply and held myself back from twisting away from him.

From this distance, I could see soft blue eyes behind the mask. They held no emotion, yet weren't harsh. My lips pressed firmer together. I felt my stomach lurch. The blue eyed man stood up swiftly and spoke in a harsh tone. "Grab her."

It didn't take long and my arms were held in a bruising grip as I was dragged up and out the door. My head started to spin at the movement and my whole body protested. I heard the door close behind me and I blinked rapidly as the hall was dark, almost pitch black or perhaps my vision is starting to go.

The muscles in my shoulder started to burn from the strain of being pulled and my weight dragging me down. Dragged down this hall, everything started to clear in my head and one thought started to surface loudly, I am going to die.

It felt as if hours passed before I found myself in another room, a few other girls my age were all lined up on their knees. I was pushed roughly to the ground on my knees along with them. I was at the end of the line on my side. I let my eyes look to the side briefly and saw a fierce looking red headed girl with an even more severe glare. My vision was obscured soon though as something was put over my head. A black cloth of some sort.

Soon an elegant yet cold voice spoke up. "Now you filthy people will learn that either you bow or die. I tried to give your President a chance, he declined and now you pay." He started. I could tell he is one of those boisterous villains who are flamboyant.

"I am a gentleman though and will allow you all to say a few words before death." He finished in an uppity way. I heard crying and soft sobs soon after. I didn't really know what was going on. I could feel my body trembling and my knees felt like needles were in them.

I jumped as a voice right next to mine spoke. "You and your army can shove it!" It was most likely the girl directly next to me who spoke. She seemed the sort. I heard a thud and something fell into my side. It was a body. I could only guess the girl was hit.

"Hmm, foolish girl. Then how about you?" His voice became sickly sweet and I felt something touch my cheek area. Instantly I felt as if I was choking, the fear hit me like a ten ton brick and curled in my body making it impossible to think. As quickly as it came it left and I felt… safe and calm. Taking a breath, I thought over if I wanted to speak. Finally I felt myself smirk at a memory and spoke in a mysterious and condescending tone. I was surprised as my voice flowed out, no cracks or stutters. "Alas, so long as the music plays, we dance."

In that moment the room became deathly quiet. It was broke as the body next to mine shook and then cackles started to echo around the room. Her voice came next breathless and amusement shining through. "You're quoting Dragon Age at a time like this!?"

I heard a snarl and soon felt a hand gently grab mine. I heard the man yell orders but I ignored it. I could feel something soft flutter in my chest as the girl gripped my hand tighter and started to murmur. "We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment... and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap."

I heard low clicks, I knew this sound intimately now. I closed my eyes and gripped the hand back just as tightly before speaking louder and together to finish it. It felt as if we were saying a prayer, or jumping of a cliff. I smiled at the irony and let the words flow out. "It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly."

The loud boom resounded and an intense pain flew through my head and traveled down my spine and back up. My body locked up and I could not breathe. Everything felt stiff. Soon enough it all stopped. Blackness swept over and it was done. Sixteen year old Jolie Myron is dead.