Prologue
"You have a lot of nerve to defy me, knife ears," growled Templar Otis to a small apprentice, "You know it's forbidden to read after curfew!" Dahlia was her name; she knew she was far from her real home, back in the alienage in Kirkwall. She was about the age of ten, with two braided brown pig tails and bright blue eyes. Her eyes were wide opened, body trembling, and tears rolling down her light pink cheeks.
"No, I didn't do anything!" she defended herself, "I have nothing to do with the missing book!" The templar didn't care for her pleas; he immediately slapped her face and dragged her into the nearest storeroom. "You know what happens to disobedient apprentices, right?" he muttered. Her screams pierced the silence of the hallways, but no one responded to her cries. Right away, the distinction of his behavior caught her attention as he locked the door. That familiar sound….CLANK… Otis turns around with that sinister grin. She knows what's going to happen next. Accusing her of a missing book, Otis created a sly diversion; to avoid suspicion, he created this excuse for wandering ears to assume Dahlia was going to receive punishment. Ironically, what she was about to face was pure torture.
"Not again!" she squealed backing into the back wall, "Don't you dare touch me again! You hurt me!" Not responding, the templar reached out for Dahlia with a demonic intention. She struggled, kicked, and pushed… anything to stop him from getting to her. Otis just chuckled as the defenseless apprentice pounded on his armor plating with her tiny fists and feet. "You're going to face your punishment like a good girl… just like the other times. Submit to me!" the monstrous beast roared as he punched Dahlia to the ground. She remained motionless, curled into a fetal position. She was silent, but her tears continued flowing. The madman commenced removing his armor, exposing his hard, cruel body. The young elf kept her eyes away from him, praying that this event will end quickly. Approaching her slowly, the templar flipped her onto her backside and spread her legs wide open. "You're going to enjoy this," the templar growled softly as he pulled down her under garment, "Just like last time."
Templar Otis didn't even reach his objective, violating poor Dahlia like he had used to. Instead of touching her undeveloped, damaged womanhood, he felt an internal flame, consuming his inners; he felt paralyzed from this pain…Blood poured from his thin, dry lips… His eyes turned bloodshot red… his pupils followed his head as he turned around to see his attacker. Dahlia quickly scooted away from the templar experiencing this trauma. The blurred vision caught a glimpse of a dark figure, a figure of another mage. The figure backed away from his backside, leaving the sword impaled inside of him. "How did you… escape your cell?" he gasped, recognizing the mage from the dim light of the corridor candles emitted. The mage tilt her head and sighed softly.
"You knew this was coming," her gentle voice whispered, "The Maker doesn't always punish what He fears; He punishes those who defy their purpose." Otis attempted to speak, but he only replied gurgling blood as he stumbled down to the cold floor. "Do not be afraid of death, Otis; the world is better off without you...embrace your rest." Before his final breath, he stared into her eyes… one blue…one green.
"Mark my words, you abomination," he muttered, slowly closing his eyes, "Your day of reckoning will come… Your actions will condemn you to your fate!" Finally lifeless, the templar laid in his pool of sticky blood. Shaking her head in shame, the mage responded, "It already begun."
Dahlia remained in tears, covering her face with her small soft hands. The mage stepped over the lifeless body of Otis; she bent down to Dahlia and embraced her with a hug. "Emily! Emily!" the poor eleven child cried, hugging tighter each second.
Before Dahlia uttered another word, Emily whispered, "We're leaving the Circle…now."