Romance, Hurt/Comfort. Rated M. Amell/Cullen.
Forever bound in light and Love, Nyra finds that After the Blight, the one who loved her has abandoned her heart. Will she find herself again, or will the Darkness take another Mage? Amell/Cullen, rated M for lemons and sensuality. Enjoy~!
Prologue: Before every story, there are events that cannot be ignored. The Blight, the need for recruits, the Circle of Magi's problems, those of the Dalish, Redcliffe, and Dwarves. Events must precede a story, or the story has no base. This, this my friends is the beginning of a story just as any other. Whether it is breath taking or not, well, that is up to you.
The Fade.
The Dream world, as it were. A place of spirits, of demons, and as some say, the Maker. The apprentice could see bits and pieces of these words everywhere. In some places, golden leftovers of destroyed… buildings? In others, demonic statues and twisted shapes. The landscape is barren, rocky earth, cracked like it was deprived of water. It looked uninviting enough, but her task set before her by the Circle, well, it left a lot to be desired.
But she had felt connected to the place, despite its lack of charm. It held power, ancient wisdom. She briefly thought on what came before the pedestal took her here.
"Now, remember, the Fade is full of twists and turns, and trust is more valuable than gold. Keep your wits about you, and whoever you meet, whatever happens, have a strong will and never accept what they offer you. Demons don't always look or act like demons, and— ," Irving was whispering to her, but Greagoir heard and immediately interrupted it.
"First Enchanter, you know the rules. The apprentice must go through this alone. No one is to aide her, or she will relinquish the right of the Harrowing." He snapped, stepping forward. One of the other templars took the step with him. Erick, the apprentice recognized. One of the rather… inappropriate of the recruits. Rumored to sneak peeks at the female mages when they took their baths. She edged slightly away from him and his wandering eyes.
"The 'right'? The right to go into the fade and face, possibly, possession and death? Sending them in unprepared is not only cruel, but a waste of time and years spent training. If a little advice can harden them enough to resist and defeat demons, then I see nothing wrong with giving it." Irving seethed back. He turned back towards the apprentice, eyeing her worriedly. She was a bit faint and seemed shaky. "Don't worry, child, you will make it through this. I have complete faith in you."
"In the Fade, you will find a test of sorts awaiting you. A demon. If you succeed in defeating it, you will come back and your Harrowing will be complete. Should you fail, we will have no choice but to carry out our duty and kill the demon when it takes your place. If, also, you take too long within there, we will have to assume that you have failed, and we will, again, carry out our duty accordingly. Do you understand what is set before you, apprentice?" he boomed out in the chamber. A chamber, in her eyes, that was far too large for such small, powerful instruments. She nodded, though her heart was hammering and her body felt like molten lead.
"We send them alone, with no warning of the true danger, and you expect them to survive just like that? A simple not of caution, that's all that needs to be said…." Irving muttered under his breath, guiding her forward. She stopped before the font and a few stray, diamond tears fell from her eyes onto the stone. Irving patted her arm and fretted about slightly. "No, dear Nyra, don't cry. I know you can do this. You have great potential and a strong heart. Don't' be afraid of the dark unknown. Your light will outshine them!"
Nyra Amell had always been maybe too delicate. Her hair looked like pure starlight, bright and flowing down her shoulders. Her pale, porcelain skin had a faint rose blush on the cheeks, accented by a fragile, pink set of full lips. Her body had a small, thin frame, making most believe her to be too frail to even cast magic. Her eyes were sparkling, violet stars, staring deep into the hearts of those who dared to look, and emitted kindness and love to all in need. She was one of the most beautiful people in Ferelden, some of the apprentices and templars would whisper. No one bothered to correct them.
She was well loved by most everyone in the Tower, and ever since she was brought to it when she was merely three years old, she had gathered Enchanter's attentions. Most mages assumed she had a low level for spell casting, barely any sufficient will for the simplest of tasks. She was seen studying constantly, but never seen practicing the arcane arts. She specialized in no branch to speak of, and only Irvine seemed to know her skills. Not even Greagoir knew much, other than she would never turn violent until possessed.
"We should get on with it… the faster the better." He reminded the girl, and she only sniffed and nodded.
She stepped forward again, feeling Irving leave her presence, and stared into the mound of prepared lyrium, the portal to the Fade. She placed her hand gently into it, and felt the magic take her away, slowly and yet so suddenly it took her breath far too fast. The last thing she remembered hearing was Greagoir say "Poor girl", and then a red haired templar stare at her in concern.
She was brought out of her thoughts by the urgency before her. She needed to find and kill the demon hunting her, and fast. But everything looked too much the same here, with winding paths and nondescript landmarks to lead her around. She was warned by a few concerned Enchanters before that no two Harrowing's were the same, and that she should be careful not to be careless.
She had no desire to be consumed by the so far unnamed demon, so she started to make her way through the labyrinth of stone and magic, observing and staying as aware as possible. She noticed, after awhile, that there were tiny little mouse holes everywhere, though why the Fade would have such random things, she did not know. As she bent down to examine one, she heard a scratching sound behind her, and without even so much as thinking sent out a mind blast. A squeak and a little thump were heard, and then everything went silent. Whatever she had sent flying had been far too small, almost…
Mouse sized?
She glanced back in its direction, and felt herself grow cold. Oh my god, I killed the poor thing! She thought as she hurried over to the small rodent, bent at an odd angle against the edge of a rock. She bent down to see how much damage she had caused, and startled when she heard a voice.
"You… have excellent reflex, though identifying your target might have been better in the long run… oh…." The voice wheezed, and Nyra homed in instantly on to what had said it.
The mouse. It was talking to her. Talking.
Nyra's eyes grew ever bigger as the small thing started to grow, and grow, right before her. She backed away slowly, preparing a spell in case it became hostile. It started to get up on its hind legs, and seemed to be morphing slowly, until a bright light flashed and suddenly, the mouse was gone. In its place, however, was a young man in mages robes.
Apprentice mages robes.
"… So really, being a mouse isn't so hard. In fact, it's a lot easier to hide in the Fade when you're tiny enough to fit in all its cozy little holes in the walls. Or, more accurately, rocks. Big things tend to die easily, and small things survive." He finished saying, patting his dusty robes and hair. He had a faded look to him, somehow, as if he were a worn painting in need of a restoration. His grey eyes glanced up to her and he smiled sadly.
"Who… who are you?" she asked. Her voice, unused for the past few hours out of nerves and anxiety, cracked at first, but still held its usual charm. It was a quiet song, lilting off in slight tones, hinting fear at her current situation. It fit her perfectly.
"Oh. I'm an apprentice, like you. You can call me Mouse… I can't actually remember my old name here. I've been here so long, that most of my memories have failed me and I'm simply another spirit, abandoned and left here alone. However, eh, I didn't quite pass their test. I'm stuck in the Fade." The boy sighed, trying to animate his voice beyond a dull monotone. Nyra felt for him instantly.
"And they just… left you here?"
"Well, I was taking too long to find the demon, and when I did, I had already felt them sever my ties to my body. My time was up, and they were afraid I had failed, so they simply… struck me down." He sighed again, glancing around. "You don't want it to happen to you, do you?" she shook her head. "Well, then, I suggest you go that way."
The way he pointed to seemed to be deserted, empty, a dead end… but then she looked at it again. True, the rocks were angled strangely, and they did look like they were flat from afar, but as she approached them, she saw it was only an optical illusion. They were separated and very even, but there was a gap in between that she could fit through. She glanced back at the man.
"Aren't you going to come?" she asked curiously. She was wary now, sensing something on the horizon of her mind. Mouse just shook his head and held up his hands in defeat.
"I can't even cast spells anymore. Only become a mouse. I'd be useless to you here. However, I can tell you that the demon is over there. He's milling around, waiting for you to get tired and lost. It's what he always does… and every time I tried to help, he sent wisps after me. This time, though, he didn't expect you so early, so you have a chance at surprising him! Take it! At full strength, I know you can beat him! None of the others ever found him before their mana was depleted." He said, a light glimmering in his eyes.
"But…" she didn't know if she could fight it alone, and that's what bothered her most. She would be alone. Mouse seemed to realize this.
"If you needed someone just to be there, though… I could. I wouldn't be of much use other than distracting the wisps he has, but I could be around to support you. I know how scary it can be alone." He added softly. Nyra nodded gratefully, watching as he turned into a mouse and skittered to her feet. "Let's destroy him before your time runs out!"
Before she could even dwell, even think on what she would be facing, she rushed through the rocks and came upon an arena of sorts, surrounded by lyrium and rocks. In its center looked to be a Demon, the first one she had ever seen with her eyes.
The thing was made of pure fire, its lava like body simply melting in front of her. It had no legs to speak of, and its body was crude, glowing red and orange. Its arms were far too thin and long, with claw like appendages on the ends, grasping constantly and forming solid blocks, like fists, every time it seemed to breathe. The face was a blank blob, its only features the eyes, but the eyes were the scariest part yet, and the part that took her breath away.
Rage. The eyes held anger, fury, and pure unadulterated rage in them. Their glowing depths seemed to draw her in, freezing her body and numbing her mind. When it spoke, its voice matched with just as much intensity.
"Look what the Circle dragged in." it chuckled, deformed voice laughing its way around her, screaming of hunger and just plain evil. Before she could think of a response, Mouse bit her ankle.
"Keep strong! It's weak against ice magic!" he squeaked, running off towards the sides and, as promised, drew away the wisps that suddenly appeared when she took a step back. The demon slugged forward, sending a series of small fireballs at her. She put her shield up immediately and returned with a few well aimed ice spears, sending the demon back flying. As the demon got up, it started to spew more fire, this time all over the ground, and Nyra was ready for it.
She stood her ground as she gathered her mana together, drawing power from the lyrium vein on her left, and the temperature started to drop at an alarming rate. The Rage Demon stopped spitting its fire for a moment, glancing around as a fine snow started to appear, confused by the appearance. It didn't rain or snow in the Fade. The Fade had no weather to change.
Having gathered enough power and focus, Nyra unleashed her spell upon the fiery demon, a blizzard forming around the molten skin. As it started to realize what would happen next, it rushed towards the apprentice, claws outstretched and a horrible screech filling the air, but it was far too late for it to do anything. Its skin started to harden into rock, and then slowly became encrusted in ice. Its eyes lost its glow, and the blizzard let down. The wisps to her right disappeared, and when she was sure that the demon was completely at her mercy, she shot a final ice spear at it, shattering the hideous thing into tiny, iced fragments. Mouse, after a brief shake, morphed back to his human form and jogged to her, out of breath.
"That was amazing! You defeated it like it was nothing!" he exclaimed, a light forming in his eyes. "None of the others ever even came close to defeating him."
"Well, if it wasn't for you, I probably would have ended up with the same fate… but, I don't know, something about that felt too easy." She muttered, staring at the demon's remains. Mouse just smiled.
"The other apprentices weren't in the slightest prepared, and, as I've already said, they didn't have as much skill as you have! You're free now! It might take a few minutes to get back, though…." He stopped suddenly, and looked around, sadness overcoming his previous joy. Nyra frowned and looked up at him.
"What's wrong?"
"Well… now that the demon is gone… I have no purpose here." He admitted sadly.
"Well, can't you move on, now that you've been, roughly, avenged?" Nyra had thought that was how spirits moved on after violent deaths. "There's nothing left to hold you here."
"Well… actually, I think you might be the reason I didn't fade away with that demon. I think my purpose is to help you." He suddenly looked hopeful.
"How are you supposed to do that?"
"Well… you're a very powerful mage. Me? I'm not nearly as, nor ever could I be, so powerful. It's possible that when you go back, you could take me along so I could lend aide when necessary, and help you along the way to the top in the Tower. You're obviously First Enchanter Material, and I think I've been given this chance at redeeming myself to help you." He explained, gesturing and … seemed to be trying his best to sell her on it.
"So… in exchange for me letting you in my body, you'd give me… power?" she asked, keeping her voice level and curious. Suspicion started its way throughout her mind, and she remembered Irving's words; Demons don't always look or act like demons….
"Well, I couldn't exactly give you any, I don't have much, but I could help you achieve it." He smiled, the perfect picture of peace and friendship.
Except that Nyra instinctively knew that he was lying.
"I don't do deals with demons." She said flatly, frowning and crossing her arms.
That maybe wasn't the smartest thing to do. The moment she said 'demons', Mouse stopped smiling and abruptly changed. Just like he morphed into a mouse in the first place, he started to glow and shifted into something else entirely… demonic.
His body was that of an armored corpse, rags floating around him and covered in blood. His face was partially hidden by a rusted helmet, but his visible eye glowed deep red. He had a staff in his hands, marking him more mage than warrior, and his lower half was made up of scarlet robes. The Fade seemed to get darker as he finished his transformation, heralding the power he held as a Demon of Pride.
"I am Pride. Too long have I spent here, waiting for an apprentice to fail. Too long have I held my agreement to the Circle. I have spent too much time here, and had nothing but the leftovers of other demons, no real power to claim as my own. I have grown weary of all this dancing, human, and to the void with the rules; I'm going to take you, whether you want to be taken or not!" he rumbled in a voice so filled with power that Nyra felt her mana fall and her fear rise in its place.
It's draining my mana and my will… she thought, desperately trying to cling for something, anything to save herself. It came ever nearer, awful hand outstretched, patience running thin and supreme want in its eyes, horrendous Pride as it came closer to taking her.
"NO!" a voice shouted behind her, carrying with it a wave of raw magic. Nyra's mind cleared instantly, and she saw Pride's visible eye widen ridiculously large before it was suddenly impaled by a lyrium fragment the size of her own body, and then another, and then more, smaller fragments, over and over, before all that was left was a pincushion of a demon.
Oh… oh, my… Maker, what could have possibly…? She turned around, slowly, gasping for breath….
And met the gaze of the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life.
A woman stood before her, arm outstretched with the remains of small lyrium shards hovering around them. Her skin glowed like the moon, carrying radiance far beyond that which any demon could muster. Her flowing hair seemed to float partially away from her body, blonde and full of a fire the likes of which no mage had ever created. Her eyes were a soft pink, but not anything that could lead to a red. More like that of a loving rose, a gentle, bright color, the color of Nyra's cheeks. Her nose was small and delicate, her mouth curved and smiling serenely, and her features were rounded off like that of a cherub's. Her body had soft curves, and she wore a strange outfit of white cloth, glowing as her skin did, framing her body like a sheet. Her clothing and her body were accessorized with glowing blue stones, lyrium power that enhanced her natural grace and destruction.
Nyra was in awe and fear of this beautiful creature until she squeaked out a few words.
"What are you?"
The woman, if she was one, laughed gently and smiled wider. When she spoke, her voice sounded soft and kind. "My name, and in fact who I am, is Love. A spirit of the Fade, born here instead of there." She gestured towards a portal. It must have meant back to reality.
"Wh-… Why did you help me, Love?" Nyra asked, her voice cracking and suddenly so tired….
"I helped you because I have watched over you since you came to the Circle." She paused as Nyra gazed at her, awe and confusion mingling together. "Let me explain further, yes? When you were born, you're parents knew without a doubt that you had been blessed with magic. Your hair and eyes shone with it, and you're body reacted… harshly to it. You were ill, in a way. Being mages, they tried their best to heal you and hide you over the span of only a few months. However, templars…" she paused again, shook her head and sighed. "Templars came. Your father died protecting your mother, and your mother ran to Lothering. There she kept you hidden and safe for a few years, until the templars tracked her down to there as well. As she lay dying, she called out for anyone, someone to help her daughter. You were ill, so very ill, and you needed someone to take care of you constantly. Your mother, in her last moments as a 'maleficarum', called straight into the Fade for somebody, anybody, to help her child. Naturally, demons flocked to you in an attempt to possess you from birth."
Love smiled. "I got there first. Your mother's request was one made not for power, not out of greed or sin, but out of Love. Me. I felt her call and, honoring her last wish, bonded myself to you. The templars took you away, and because I was with you, the Fade no longer made you ill. You stopped shining so elaborately, and you were safe as long as I was with you. People have loved you because I blessed you with a heart so pure, they could not help but to. And with me, you won't need to be afraid of the Darkness anymore. Nyra, I know this is much to ask, but if we bond now, I can save you and your friends from what may come, what will come, and what has already passed. Will you take me?" she glanced at the portal with alarm. "Quickly! They are getting restless. You have already spent far too long here!"
"But-," her head was reeling. Let a spirit, a creature of the Fade, no less, into my body and hope it isn't a demon? "I… I don't know."
Love nodded in understanding. "I know it's hard to trust here in the Fade, but I cannot continue to protect you from the sidelines this way. I need to be near you, or apart of you that is, to protect you and fulfill my promise. Touch my hand, and you will know me for who I am." And with that, she held out her hand invitingly, tenderly. It was a simple gesture. But, if it was so simple, then why did it feel that, for the world, it was the weightiest decision she would ever make?
She took a deep breath, dug into her heart, and, finding nothing to stop her, took the steps forward that placed her right in front of the spirit. However, as she took the last step, directly in front of the hand, the portal to the side shimmered. She could see clearly into the real world, and she saw Greagoir shake his head and heard his voice.
"She has taken too long. We can only assume she has failed." He sighed, nodding to the side. Love gasped and turned back to Nyra.
"Hurry!"
Without thinking on it, Nyra put her hand in Love's and felt the world explode around her. A feeling of tender care, of warmth and light filled her, sending a wave of magic rippling through her body and into her heart and head. She could recall memories from when she didn't feel as alone as she though, or wasn't only with the people she could see. A baby, crying in a strange light, seemingly coming from its own body. A templar rocking the same baby, now unglowing and a toddler, in his arms and telling her how pretty she was. A young Jowan racing her up the stairs, earning smiles instead of disapproving sighs from the Enchanters. Wynne, one of the Enchanters, teaching her a healing spell when she was only eleven years old, and clapping with happiness when she did it right. A templar with red hair, helping her up the stairs when she had fallen, so she could heal herself. The same templar watching over her while she studied endless nights in the library. And yet again, the same templar, staring at her with worry as she drifted off into the Fade for her Harrowing. All these memories, some she remembered clearly and some she didn't even know were hers, flowed back into her mind. She felt, at the edge of her mind, a presence, a guardian against the demons. She had assumed it was her dead mother protecting her from the Fade. But it was Love that had guided her her entire life, all she needed now was to put faith in her.
"I trust you." She whispered before she suddenly crashed back into her body.
She awoke with a small gasp, barely moving, only to find that above her was a silver, shining sword. Pointed directly at her breast, no less. When she tried to scream, she found her voice hoarse and unusable, only able to stare through heavy eyelids in horror as it started to descend.
Time didn't slow, per say, but her breath seemed to make her body go faster, keep with the movements. She was able to take in everything at once, every detail at the corner of her vision. Irving was staring with regret and shaking his head, and Greagoir looked absolutely grim, but with a purpose. The Templar above her was solemn and had left a tear at the corner of his eye, unshed, kept close to the brink. The red headed templar, the one she remembered being there more than the others, was looking at her with horror and anguish in his eyes, though his face betrayed nothing. She focused on those golden brown eyes, a feeling of… something flowing through her.
Just before the sword reached her, she gave a small cry of "Cullen" before it hit.
But energy had built up beneath her, preparing itself for the moment to strike, and right when the sword reached down only a centimeter from her skin, it was pushed back by a glowing mass of energy, a large amount of seemingly liquid lyrium. It had started behind her and flowed around her in small waves and rivulets, forming what seemed to be scales to protect her from further harm. The sword was entrapped in the glowing crystal, unyielding, and the recruit that had just about killed her stepped back as the mass tracked and started towards him. Nyra, seeing this, pleaded that it not hurt him. He was only doing his duty, nothing more, and nothing malevolent. It receded almost immediately and formed back around her, bringing the sword over her flat and encasing it entirely. After more movement, the casing stopped and Nyra felt it warm up and suddenly soften.
"Do not fear, darling one. I will protect you from their heathen methods. They will not have you." Love whispered through her mind, caressing her with Lyrium fingers and soft, warm magic. It felt like, well, love.
Before she fell asleep from the sudden use of magic, she saw Irving and Greagoir coming to her, both with glowing hands, and the red haired templar coming towards her with a… greatsword?
Oh well… dwell on it another day. Love sighed, and Nyra fell into a Fadeless dream.
~*.*~
"She's taken too long. We can only assume she has failed." Knight Commander Greagoir announced, mostly to Irving. The Enchanter started to argue, but glanced back at the setting sun behind the tower windows. It most certainly had been hours. He could find no more reasoning to give her time.
Cullen gazed at the body of the apprentice in question. Such a beautiful creature, to be sure. Her soft, fragile face held his interest for years and years of yearning he didn't understand, and her light hair had always smelled of flowers and herbs. Every time she smiled at him, he felt his heart tug and his own answering one, albeit small and barely noticeable, towards her. But the mention that she might have failed, or that her time was up made his stomach clench painfully and his heart simply must have been ripped out. He was sure no one else felt or saw it, though.
He glanced at the First Enchanter, Irving, as he sighed again, which only spurred Cullen's rage. He should demand more time, not simply give up on her! She must nearly be done by now…. He couldn't just not watch over her anymore. She had to come back to the library to read more books on magic, and yes, even children's books. She had always been fascinated by poetry and children's rhymes. He had to watch over her as she mixed potions and helped the plants grow, as she cast a series of spells on a small stone, to change and channel it. He had to be there to protect her from herself.
If she's gone, what is there to protect again? Nothing. Only guard the outside world from the rest of them.
He froze as Greagoir called over a new recruit, one who had yet to attend a Harrowing. Cullen felt a brief sympathy for him before he remembered that he was about to kill the girl. He started to recite the final sending for her, taking his sword and raising it above his head.
"Ashes to ashes, spirit to spirit. May the Maker forgive you of your sins and take you back to his side, and may he never let you leave his side." He said solemnly. Cullen closed his eyes, briefly before he heard a rattling breath.
She came back.
But it was too late! The sword was crashing down, and even the Knight Commander had noticed a small movement from her. He, Cullen, and Irving had started forward, shouting to stop, but the sword was already plunging down, and everyone but Cullen closed his eyes at the soft cry.
And then everything exploded in a light of lyrium and crystal. The sword was stopped by a strange mass of glowing blue, smelling of magic and raw lyrium, and the templar recruit was pushed back and snapped at. The blue substance formed around her body quickly, encasing it in scales of some sort, some large, some small. It continued to grow until her body had been lifted about three or so feet from the ground. Her arms were put over her chest calmly, and her eyes were focused on him, only him. She felt his gaze as he rushed forward, great sword being slid from his back. As it stopped moving, Irving cast his spell, trying to free her from whatever it was. The recruit and Greagoir had gathered their templar power and tried to drain any magic from the area after Irving had failed, but all it did was make the crystal glow and ting.
When Irving got back up, they all stopped to see what it actually was, and Irving gasped in awe. The entire structure had formed a massive rose, in full bloom with the long sword at its center, glowing bright silver, and Nyra underneath it, seeming to sleep as a soft, soothing song came from it.
"What in Maker's name is that thing?" Greagoir demanded, rounding on Irving. The man seemed deliriously happy and troubled at the same time.
"It is a raw form of lyrium, summoned by a spirit of the Fade. Only true spirits, born by the maker can do this kind of magic. One of them must have found Nyra and protected her from dying a wrongful death. Such things have been known to happen." Irving mused, walking forward and laying a hand on the Crystal. The song stopped and a few of the petals started to extend sharp thorns, as if in warning. Irving nodded and withdrew his hand. Cullen, however, was horrified.
"She's possessed then? She's an abomination?" he choked, staring at the figure in the crystal. She didn't look like an abomination.
"No, not at all. Once a Fade Spirit, not a demon or ghoul or anything that might have been human, bonds with a mage, it protects and aides the host. It's not possession. It's protection. The spirit doesn't actually reside in the body, like a demon would. It merely wanders in it, staying apart of the Fade as it lives with its Host. A Demon kills the person inside and takes over most of the time. Spirits have no need nor want to." Irving tried to explain, and as the song came back, a soothing hymn, the templars lowered their arms.
"What spirit would you think it is?" Greagoir grumbled, eyeing her warily.
"Well, there are many types, so I will have to look into it, but I believe it to be a very powerful spirit, as active as it can be. Maybe a spirit of Purity, or of Kindness?" he guessed, stroking his beard. Just as he was about to continue, the rose shivered slightly, and a tendril of lyrium started to creep over. Everyone stepped back almost immediately, but there was no apparent need for alarm. All it did was form words in front of them, or more accurately, one word.
Love.
"I guess that answers your question." Irving laughed. "It's a spirit of Love."
"Isn't Love a little Dangerous?" Greagoir grumbled. He wasn't expecting an answer, but the rose suddenly extending its thorns sharply, each about a foot long, and the word on the floor formed many more.
Very Much So. Keep that in mind next time you try to harm her.
"Is the spirit threatening me?" he barked, glaring at the words.
No. THIS would be a threat.
And the rose shot out a lyrium shard toward the Knight Commander, stopping it just an inch from his exposed throat, hovering in the air with no apparent controller. Irving sighed and put up his hands.
"Greagoir, just… stop antagonizing her. The spirit isn't human, and has no need to fear you. If you harm Nyra, you will face its wrath, and templar abilities can only do so much against actual pieces of the Fade." He grumbled on, and then turned to the crystal. "You have no need to fear. Nyra has passed her Harrowing, yes?"
Yes. Quite Well, In Fact.
"Then she is no longer in danger. Please, allow us to get her to her bed, and let her rest. She must be simply exhausted." He pleaded, and the rose started to shiver, drawing back and receding into the floor again. The sword had seemed to disappear with it, and Nyra was… bathed in a soft glow. Greagoir nodded to Cullen after a second.
"Take her to her bed. Make sure she isn't disturbed."
"Yes sir." He saluted, and then walked over to pick her up. He paused to brush the hair out of her face gently, making sure that the Commander had started talking to Irving and that the templars were busy leaving, and he picked her up without trying to jostle her as much as possible. She sighed slightly and curled up against his armor, feather light eyelids closed gently against a smooth, pure face. Her serene smile did things to Cullen's heart, and her scent stayed the same as ever, flowers and herbs, though she also hinted heavily at lyrium now.
Cullen started down the stairs, counting her heartbeats as they came, and smiled on the inside, feeling something no templar should ever feel for a mage, or anyone else at that matter.
A Passing of Time: This was the very beginning, a part of the story that could not be skipped, that could not be altered. Other parts mean little, though they are important. The Grey Warden Commander, Duncan, came to the tower with a sorrow laden Cheryl Cousland, of Highever, who had just lost her family to some traitorous arl, Arl Rendon Howe. She was one of his recruits, and Duncan was looking for a mage to join the fold. During his stay at the tower, however, Nyra's long time friend, Jowan, had somehow broken into the phylactery storage area, breaking his own and escaping in a fit of blood. Her best friend had turned out to be a blood mage. Seeing the templars dying, she used her own magic and some of the Love's in order to bring them back from the brink of death, and healed them completely. Duncan, seeing this power, asked for her assistance during the Blight, as a Grey Warden. She politely declined. Irving did as well. Then Duncan went a step further and used the Right of Conscription. Forced to join their ranks against her will, and against that of Love's, she headed to Ostagar with the brooding Cousland and Commander.
She met the king, his advisor, and many others as well, along with a particular Warden, barely six months in, named Alistair, who happened to be an ex-templar. She, along with the other three recruits, took part in the joining, though only she and Cheryl survived. Afterwards, the battle that took place was legendary in its humiliation and wrong doing. Cailin had been betrayed by Loghain, his most trusted advisor and father in law. The wardens were mostly wiped out, save for the newest members and Alistair, and they started on their path with Morrigan, the Witch of the Wilds, to recruit an army to take the darkspawn and destroy the Arch demon. Along the way, they met another Dog, much like the one that accompanied Cheryl everywhere {named Tiamat}, a Mabari who imprinted itself upon Nyra and was named Bahamut, and two others. A lay sister of the Chantry, Leliana, and a Qunari Warrior, Sten.
The company worked its way through the treaties, first to Orzamar, and then back to the Circle of the Magi Tower.
Not all was well, as they would soon find out.
A/N Prologue One is done, and the next chapter will actually be another prologue, to explain what happens at the Circle. After that, my friends, it's onwards to the actual story, post Blight. I hope you enjoyed and will continue to do so~!