Thanks to Hatsepsut for agreeing to beta this story!
Reviews and concrit always welcome.
Disclaimer: Dragon Age belongs to BioWare.
Owain's lungs burned as they struggled to keep up with the rest of his body. His desperation mounted as he realized the pain in his side would soon become crippling. The sickly sweet smell of burning flesh still filled his nostrils, and bile scorched the back of his throat.
It had all happened so quickly. One moment he had been enduring the taunts of a bully, his rage mounting, the next minute the boy had been on fire, hair and clothes going up like bone dry kindling. He had been rooted to the spot until the sounds of a mother's wailing had reached his ears. He panicked and fled.
Where can I go? Where can I hide? He found himself in the confusion of Denerim's Market District. He looked about wildly, trying to find a way out, and turned to see two templars advancing on him, implacable and terrifying. He turned to run, in spite of legs that were as wobbly as a newborn colt's.
Suddenly he was flying as a force hit him from behind. Time slowed and he watched the ground rise up to meet him with only mild curiosity. The impact drove all thought from him as he watched the world slowly recede.
ooOoo
He awoke to utter darkness, his breathing sounding impossibly loud in his ears. Where am I? He held his breath, and strained his ears, but the silence was unbroken except for a faint squeaking his overstressed mind finally identified as a rat. Every muscle in his body screamed in agony as he attempted to rise from the cold stone floor. How long have I been here? He quickly dropped to his knees as a wave of dizziness washed over him. His stomach felt hollow, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
The sound of clanking armor penetrated the fog of his mind. He became aware of a light slowly growing closer, and gradually the bars of a cell door emerged from the gloom. Two templars stopped in front of his cell. "Please...I'm so thirsty," he managed to whisper. He heard a rusty squeal as the door was unlocked. They pulled him to his feet without a word, a templar on each arm, and marched him down a long corridor.
To his amazement, he wasn't immediately executed. Instead he was taken to a small room. His gaze fell on a meager loaf of bread, bit of cheese, and pitcher of water on a table, and his stomach gave a loud growl.
"Eat and get cleaned up. We will be back in 30 minutes to take you to Knight-Commander Greagoir."
He vaguely heard the sound of the door being closed and locked behind him, but was too intent on shoveling food into his mouth to care.
He felt much better by the time the templars had returned. They allowed him to walk on his own this time, and he was led down a gently curving hallway. They stopped in front of an office, and the two templars took up their posts on either side of the door.
Inside, a stern older man in a more elaborate version of templar armor stood with arms crossed. Another man in dark green and purple mage robes stood to his left, hands clasped behind his back. Both men had graying hair and beards, but the mage's kindly look gave him an air of approachability, a stark contrast to the templar's imposing presence. They were both turned slightly towards each other, seemingly lost in conversation.
He hesitated at the doorway.
The mage gave him a kind smile and waved him in. "Owain, come in," the mage said. "I am Senior Enchanter Irving, and this is Knight-Commander Greagoir. It has been decided that you will become an apprentice here at the Circle. We will teach you how to control and use your gifts."
"Your magic is a gift, but it's also a curse, for demons of the dream realm, the Fade, are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world," Greagoir said. "If you cannot learn to control your gift, you will be made tranquil."
"Greagoir, is that really necessary? He's just a child!"
Greagoir snorted. "He's dangerous, as are all mages. You know what he did, Irving."
Owain suddenly felt weak and swayed on his feet.
"The boy is still exhausted. All this can wait for another day, after he has fully recovered." Irving walked to the doorway and motioned an apprentice over. "See that Owain gets settled into the apprentice quarters, Jowan."
"Yes, Senior Enchanter."
Owain turned to see a boy not much shorter than himself smiling at him, and managed a halfhearted smile in return. "Come on, Owain. I'll show you around your new home."
