Devotion or Destruction?

Post-Blight. Solona Amell heeds a call from the Circle of Magi…

***Bioware and their affiliates own Dragon Age, I envy them.***

Chapter 1: Epilogue turned Prologue

The journey back to the tower had been a rehearsal; she'd tried to envisage the best way to pass through those doors and address her former peers and friends. The last time she'd been there the circumstances had demanded an auto-pilot response and so there was no time to worry about impressions or greetings. What had mattered was saving that tower before Greagoir called for it to be wiped out like a stain.

The docks were no longer a dot in the distance, she was almost there and the realisation was more than daunting. She wanted to throw up.

How would everyone look at her? She's so dangerous, she killed an Archdemon: there's nothing we can do to stop her. She had dreamt such things in the Fade; people fearing and hating her for what she had done. Of course most of Denerim were elated; she was a hero there having saved the day and ushered in the rule of another Theirin king.

Now all that was left was to rebuild her own life, with or without Alistair. Thoughts of him did nothing to improve her dampened spirits.

You're just coming down from the high of life as a Grey Warden during a Blight.

Wynne had told her that this was some form of 'post-Blight depression' and that she'd get over it and want to move on with her life soon enough. That was 3 months ago. Then, the letter had come from the Circle of Magi calling her back at the behest of the 'Knight-Commander'.

"Okay, enough Solona… Looking at the Tower doesn't mean you'll get inside."

She walked, slowly, towards the ferryman and was delivered to the shore on the other side within half an hour. The large, solid anti-magic doors greeted her with a familiar, solemn greeting. She was home again. With a deep breath and a determined step forward; she passed through the doors and in to the Circle once more.

[Main entrance]

Surprise. That was the first thing that filled her, perhaps even shock, Greagoir was not there to greet her. It wasn't even the lack of Greagoir that was the truly shocking part; it was the fact that Cullen was standing there in the full garb of a Knight-Commander. Yes, that was what the shock was; Cullen was now the Knight-Commander of the Circle of Magi.

"Cullen…" she said, soberly as thoughts and memories of the time before swamped her.

The look in his eyes suggested that he was suffering the same emotions and flashbacks as she but from the perspective of a mage-hating Templar "Solona." His voice was restrained, curt. No more stuttering.

"You… are the Knight-Commander of the Circle?" she thought to the letter; signed from the Knight-Commander and not Greagoir "Where is.. Greagoir?"

"Dead." He said, with a twinge of pain "Died in the winter."

"Oh." She couldn't quite say she was sorry for his loss, but she couldn't besmirch the memory of the man either.

"Denerim called for me to take up the post." Cullen was watching her carefully, she wondered what he was thinking; to slay or not to slay perhaps?

"I… see." She had no idea of what to say, congratulations seemed hideously inappropriate given that he was now in a position of power and given the last things he had said to her; that could be dangerous. She dipped a hand in to the pocket of her robes and drew out the letter "You sent this?"

"Yes." He nodded, when she continued to stare at him he finally elaborated "First Enchanter Irving also died, a week or so after Greagoir had passed."

That news nearly floored her, she folded her arms and looked up at the stone ceiling "O-Oh…" she bit her lip "I… see."

"Do you require time to come to terms with this news?" Cullen seemed overly formal, too restrained as he watched her with a hawk-like stare.

"No… I think it would be best if you told me why you called me here. Surely not to give me such news face-to-face…" she was starting to have the sinking feeling that had served her well on the field of battle.

"Yes… You are right. It was not to simply deliver news face to face." He shifted, folding his arms and then unfolding them "I have asked you to come here to.. to take the role of First Enchanter." the first break in his perfectly restrained composure – a stutter that she remembered.

That faint glimmer of her Cullen was promptly brushed aside by the end of his sentence; take the role of First Enchanter! She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it and closed it once more. Thoughts spun inside her head like a maelstrom. Was he serious about this idea? Finally she managed to whisper "Wh…What about.. Wynne..?"

"I felt it appropriate to ask you; everyone hails you as the Leader of the Grey. Your exploits are well-known across the land. Stopping the Blight, slaying the Archdemon, how you saved Amaranthine and many more I'm sure… it seemed logical to ask you." His eyes were the colour of antique amber and they were watching her every reaction.

Once more she opened her mouth, only to close it as she thought. Was this his way of flattering her? Saying that he had followed her exploits and that he had confidence in her abilities? Part of her wanted to ask but she usually didn't listen to that part. Realisation hit her as he watched her quietly; the matter was unresolved "Me? First Enchanter? It… sounds strange."

"I found the idea of being Knight-Commander strange." He glanced to the side "I still do. Doesn't feel real…" the amber gaze settled on her again "Perhaps it would be prudent of me to give you an evening to rest and consider this proposal? We could… speak more in the morning, if you wish."

Uh… uh, yes. Maybe we can talk another time. She longed to hear him say that to her, instead of these controlled words; prudent… consider.

"Yes… We can talk another time." She whispered, tiredly.

"I will show you to a guest room." He motioned and she followed.

The room was familiar, probably because she had led Duncan to the very same room at the beginning of her 'life' as a Grey Warden and a 'mage proper'. Yet the interior had been changed; probably scrubbed to within an inch of its life after the abominations had struck. Yet she knew the room despite the new furniture and layout. Cullen had left her with a nod and a formal "Good evening" and she was stood alone just wishing she knew what to do with herself at that moment.

I think I need some rest.

She walked to the bed and laid on it, waving out the candles over head with a silent whisper of magic. She closed her eyes and tried to calm the bubbling chaos inside herself; she hoped the morning would bring her some clarity…

End of Chapter 1

What will happen at breakfast...?

- Drake