"You said you didn't ask for this, but that's not true.
You wanted it, you competed for it.
When you won you used the boon to have mother and I freed.
Freedom was no boon.
I look on you now and I think you received the better end of the bargain"
-Varania, Dragon Age 2
Our footsteps echoed off the stone wall. I did it. I won. My sister and mother would be free and I in turn would be given lyrium markings. In the gloom of the hallway I was barely able to make out the silhouette of my master. I had no idea where he was leading me and I knew better than to ask. The courtyard in which I and many other slaves had competed lay far behind us and I could no longer make out any other sounds beyond our falling footsteps and quiet breaths. I stole a quick glance down at the gauntleted hand clutching the left side of my abdomen. Blood still oozed from between the clawed fingertips of the onyx colored metal where another competing slave had sliced through my armor. Mere moments before my blade had ended him of course, but my master had still criticized me for making such an imbecilic mistake, and promised that he would punish me accordingly for it later. For now, he would heal it when we reached our destination, claiming that if this ritual was going to succeed, if I had any hope of surviving the lyrium being branded into my skin, I needed to be in the best possible condition. Or at least, the best possible condition a slave could attain that is. I felt my insides wrench at the possibility of dying during the ritual, but hid any outward evidence of my emotions with practiced ease, keeping an apathetic expression on my face. I followed almost silently as I was led through countless twists and turns, each stretch of the ill-lighted passageway nearly identical to the last.
It was impossible to tell how much time had passed or how far we had walked when I was able to make out an old, gnarled wooden door at the end of the passage, bordered by two brightly glowing torches on either side. The sudden light as we rounded the corner caused me to squint, and I tentatively followed my master up to the worn door, taking care to stop at the required distance held for a slave and their master. In the light I was better able to make out his features. His ashen grey hair was smoothed back and he scratched his thick beard as he fumbled with the keys in his pale hands. Blue robes held together with gold fastening covered a red and white patterned shirt with a white and black trimmed garment draped across his shoulders. His staff glinted menacingly in the torchlight and I made it a point to not stare long at the mace-like end of it. The excitement that I had seen in his silver eyes as he finally shoved the right key into the door had my stomach curdling and my blood turning to ice. With a loud groan, the door swung open and my master briskly strode inside, with me in tow. I had to stop myself from reacting once I had stepped inside. Cells lined the walls on either side of the dimly lit hall, slaves filling each and every one of them, all wearing nothing but rags with their bones evident from lack of food and the stench of feces and urine filling my nose. I kept my gaze downward as my master strode through the appalling sight, barely even sparing a glance at those around him.
I felt myself give a small sigh of relief as I was led through another door and the fearful, starving faces of those behind me were hidden away from view. The room we were in now carried a far different look. Paintings and torches littered the walls and bonze and gold statues dotted the room. Dark red drapes were pulled back giving a breathtaking view of Minrathous, even as decayed as the city is. I could not remember ever traveling up during our walk here, but somehow we were near the top of one of the towers on my master's estate. I was led through another door into a large, circular room, a large desk residing in the middle and several different doors creating breaks in the many bookshelves that lined the walls.
A figure sat hunched over the lone desk, scribbling furiously with his quill at a scrap of parchment in front of him, stacks of papers and books residing over the dark, worn wood. His dark black hair was smoothed back as well and his staff rested against his chair, the lights flickering along its metal surface. His grey eyes darted around the parchment he was writing on, running a pale hand through his hair, his mouth thinning into a thin line as he studied his notes.
The man shot out of his chair when he noticed us approaching, nearly scattering the piles of parchment on the desk in his rush and sending his staff toppling to the ground next to him as he bowed in a traditional greeting. "Magister Danarius. I hope you found the subjects I have gathered to your liking." He said, various praises thrown at the end of his sentence while keeping his head low.
"etThey will have to do Marek." My master replied, waving his hand and turning to walk through one of the branching doors, Marek following closely at his heels while I brought up the end. The room we entered only seemed slightly better than the first room we had entered. The stone walls and floor were bare of most things save for a small bedroll and a few torches along the walls. The Iron bars were lightly rusted and the door screeched loudly as it was opened. Unceremoniously, I was ordered into the single cell and the door creaked loudly behind as it swung shut and locked. I turned around and watched them leave through the door, heads lowered as they were deep in conversation about lyrium. Silently, my eyes trailed after them, watching helplessly as they left and closed the large door behind them, leaving me to my thoughts. I sat down with my back against the wall and faced the door, my hand still resting firmly on my injured side. I could feel the effects of my injury more thoroughly now that I was alone. I rested the back of my head against the wall and closed my eyes, waiting for my master to return.
True to his word, my master returned later and healed my wound, the magic cruel and burning as the flesh knit itself back together. I kept silent through the process, blood magic had always brought me pain, and I was more than use to it by now. After the wound had been healed my master ran a hand through my hair, an unnerving mix of emotions swimming in his silver eyes and I fought the urge to cringe at his touch. Before he left through the worn wooden door he uttered one sentence that sent my stomach into turmoil.
"See you tomorrow Fenris."
That wasn't my name.
I had to keep reminding myself that I had competed for these markings. I had done it so that my mother and sister would be free. And they were, so I begrudgingly carried out the tasks they had set for me. Every other day I was brought back to the courtyard for training. While I was decent with a two-handed blade, I was nowhere near the mastery they required. My master's apprentice Hadriana was put in charge of over-seeing my training. As the days passed my body grew stronger, wielding the blade became easier and my movements faster, almost instant as I slid gracefully from stance to stance, practicing the skills required of me.
With each passing day I fought down the increasing level of unease rising in me. The knowing looks that Hadriana and the other Staff would give me as I passed caused waves of barely contained fear to roll over me. It didn't help when I managed to overhear the plans of my Master as he and Marek would engage in deep discussion every now and again when a breakthrough was made, words said in excited tones being passed between the two as they huddled over tomes, furiously scrawling down pages of notes and calculations that held no meaning to me.
Each day I willed myself not to notice the dwindling numbers of slaves in the cells as I was brought out for training. And some nights I brought my hands above my ears and tried to pretend the wailing, agony-filled screams I could hear from above weren't real, and it was only my sick imagination deceiving me.
The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months until finally, on one moonlit night, the screams stopped and excited shouting filled their stead. I sat up from the makeshift bed I had scrapped together in the corner and listened to the commotion coming from the other room. I ran a hand through my dark hair and drew in a shaky breath, not yet ready to accept what I already knew. I rested my chin on my knee and screwed my green eyes shut, listening to the excited shouts and reverberating thumps as things were moved and re-arranged. Months, maybe years of research nearly perfected. Tomorrow would be the deciding factor. I forced myself to lie back down and get what rest I could. Tomorrow would be the day I received what I had fought so hard to win.
I felt my apprehension grow as they led me through the doorway that went to the top of the tower. As I was brought through the hallway I had first entered all that time ago, I tried not to notice the absence of slaves in the dark, barren cells. I surprised a shudder and kept my gaze trained forward, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, and ignoring the gnawing on my insides. I was led through a different doorway and up a final set of stairs, arriving at the top floor of the tower. Under different circumstances, the view would be quite stunning, and I would have gladly stood up here for hours admiring the vast landscape, the city far below. Now I only felt further trapped, guards moving to stand behind me, blocking off my one route of escape should I make any attempts to get away, hands hovering near their swords.
I was ordered to strip and lie down upon the stone table that sat in the middle of the circular room almost as soon as I had entered. I did so quickly and felt the skin of my back hit the cold stone underneath. I gulped and felt my stomach churn as my wrists and ankles were bound by heavy chain, pulled tightly so I could not move them in the slightest. I tore my eyes away from the chains around my ankles and quickly wished I hadn't. What remained of the slaves were similarly tied down to tables along the edges of the walls, the light shining down upon them from the makeshift windows cut into the stone. Their blood was no doubt going to be used to fuel this ritual.
My eyes finally settled on my Master as he came and took his place by my side, several more guards appearing from the steps carrying barrels upon barrels of the lyrium that would soon be infused into my skin. A malicious smile that only promised cruel things to come spread across his lips, reaching his eyes that hardened and bore into me as he ran a hand through my hair. His other hand reached down to his belt, pulling out the gold jeweled ceremonial dagger all magisters had from its holster.
"Don't worry my little Fenris." He cooed. Again, that name was spoken. "This will all be over before you know it. And don't you worry about your mother and sister, they'll be fine, not that you'll remember them when I'm finished." His last words carried a hint of a growl to them and my heart beat furiously against the confines of my chest as I put everything I had into struggling against my restraints.
Panic mixed with desperation coursed through me as he walked over to one of the slaves, smile still splayed across his face as he twirled the dagger in his hands. No. He couldn't take my memories. My breath came out in panicked gasps as I tugged hopelessly against the metal cuffs that bound me. I darted my eyes over to my Master one last time and everything seemed to slow down as I watched him wink at me and drag the blade across their throat.
A searing pain enveloped me as my vision blurred and blue streaked across my vision as the lyrium began to settle into me. My eyes rolled shut and my mouth opened in an agonizing scream as my mind began to swirl. Images raced across my vision, lasting only seconds before being lost and replaced with another.
Red hair flowing behind her as I chased her across the impossibly green grass. Laughter filled the air between us, the smell of summer on the breeze and our mother's voice calling out to us as she worked in the shade.
The agony I felt was like a hundred rusty daggers striking me at once all over, pinning me to the table below in which no amount of writhing could escape. My throat felt as if I had gargled a cup of molten metal, my screams hoarse from the constant use.
She called my name and grabbed my arm firmly as I turned to leave. "Don't do this, please. It's not worth it." The hurt in her voice cut my heart like a knife. "There has to be another way." She pleaded.
"I have to." I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's the only way I can get you and mother freed." I could hear the quiet sobs of my mother in the next room. If only they could understand that I had to do this.
"We'll find another way. Please. Don't leave us behind. We need to stay together."
"I'm sorry." I said, my voice full of sorrow as I wrenched my arm from hers and strode through the doors out into the rain, ready to face the man that would bring freedom to the two people I held most dear, ignoring the cries of my sister that echoed in my ears above the downpour.
Pain erupted from my chest as if I had been stabbed by a frozen dagger dripped in a poison well, numbing my body to all save for the liquid fire coursing through my very being like a wave crashing on the shore, my back arching off the stone table in the process, pulling agnst my restraints. The memories flashed by quicker and quicker as they spiraled out of my grasp, tears flowing freely down my face as voices screaming out my name drowned out my own wails of agony and echoed in my ears.
Flashes of red hair flickered against my vision. Green eyes and gentle voices all slipping through my fingers as I reached out in an attempt to hold on to them, to something, my name ringing out in the darkness.
"Leto!"
I tumbled further and further into the blackness that danced at the edges of my conscious.
"Leto!"
Finally I felt myself give in, and I tumbled back into the nothingness that surrounded me, enveloping me like a fog rolling over the harbor.
The first thing I felt when I drifted back into consciousness was the sharpness of the metal cuffs biting into my wrists and ankles. My head felt like it had been trampled by a million cattle and the hardness of the stone dug uncomfortably into my back and slightly turned hip. My throat felt as if I tried to swallow a hive of angry wasps as I coughed. There was a lingering burn across my entire body as I slowly came to my senses. The smell of blood magic, fear, sweat and lyrium hung strongly in the air and I relished in the feeling of the light breeze that rolled by. Forcing my eyes to open I was met with stone walls and a vaulted roof bathed in the glow of twilight. Confusion took hold when I racked my brain to come up with a reason to why I was here and ended with nothing. I had no idea where I was nor who I was, I could only guess it was some sort of tower as a quick look out one of the windows shown a vast view of rolling hills and sea. I groaned when the pounding inside my head became too much and I was forced to shut my eyes again.
The sound of someone approaching was what made me open my eyes again. Though slightly blurry, I was able to make out the figure of a man walking towards me, staff glinting proudly on his back. "Ah my little Fenris, I see you have finally woken." He said happily, bringing his hands together as he swept he gaze over me. I contemplated the name for a moment. Was that suppose to be my name? I tried searching my brain for any hint of the name or who the man next to me was but all I managed to get was more intense pounding inside my head.
"Who are you?" I managed to rasp out.
Something passed over his features, but it was too quick for me to make out. "Do you not remember me?" Was that hurt in his voice? I couldn't be sure, it sounded a little off.
I shook my head in response. "I don't remember anything." Was that the ghost of a smile on his face?
"I am your Master Fenris. You had a nasty little accident during the ritual. I just barely managed to save you in time."
"My… Master?"
"Yes my little wolf, you are my slave. I own you, as I have for your whole life. You were my bodyguard. Are you sure you don't remember anything?" Again I shook my head. "Well that's terribly unfortunate now isn't it? Oh well my pet, don't you worry after a little rest you should be back to your normal self."
He snapped his fingers and two armored guards appeared from behind him, unshackling my wrists and ankles, eyeing me warily as they did. I followed their gaze and gasped at the series of bright white markings that adorned my skin. Brief memories of agonizing pain shot forward and I screwed my eyes shut against the assault.
"You were quite the investment my little wolf." My Master commented. "Those marking cost me a fortune to perfect. But now it'll all be worth it." He turned and started walking out of the room, barking orders to the guards on either side of me as I gingerly sat up, rubbing my raw wrists.
Light shining off the armor of the guard next to me drew my attention. Looking to my side, I saw a reflection of white hair and green eyes staring back at me, two lines of lyrium beginning at my chin and moving downwards. As the guards ushered me out of the room I couldn't help but feel that something was terribly wrong, and there was a reason for this nagging sense of betrayal that I felt.