Huge thanks to LarienSurion and gabtinha for the beta read! Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think!
Chapter One: There's No Place Like Home
"You were born amidst the Dalish elves: noble wanderers who refuse to join the society of humans that subjugated their homeland so long ago. The Dalish travel the land in tightly knit clans, struggling to maintain their half-forgotten lore in a human world that fears and despises them."
-~:X:~-
The smell of the leaves in the wind, the moss on the trees, and the freshly drying rain; home.
Ariava stirred slowly to the beautiful sounds of singing birds, and to the sight of the many decorative trinkets she'd collected from her travels. Rubbing her eyes forcefully, she glimpsed out of her cosy, yet messy, tent and into the homely camp filled with busy elves. With her dark curls falling around her face, Ariava shoved on her boots before clumsily tumbling out of her tent, mid-lace.
"Ah! So you ARE alive da'len" mocked Ariava's mother, her warm face appearing above Ariava as she continued to battle with the tangled mass of laces.
"I overslept?" the small elf gasped from the ground. "Why didn't you wake me?"
From what she could make out through the trees, the sun position suggested it was nearing afternoon. All the elves of the clan were well into their daily duties, causing a hum of action around the camp.
Ariava knew she was supposed to be reading the ancient texts of her clan, learning their history, the writing of elven as well as the old magic ways. As was the duty of the First; her purpose.
"Now why would I wake you on your birthday?" the motherly elf cooed, tucking the wild curls behind Ariava's pointed ears tenderly as she rose from the dirt at last, having finally conquered her boot laces. "Your father has headed to the nearby shemlen farm".
"The one with the nice man? The one we can talk to?"
"Yes da'len, and guess what he's bringing back for you to eat?" she teased.
Ariava's long ears perked up, intrigued.
"Lamb!"
"We're having stew for dinner?! Really?" the young elf squealed with delight.
"Only because it's your special day. It's not everyday you turn eleven!" Ariava's mother smiled warmly, her ivy green eyes sparkling.
Giddy with excitement the young elf jumped for joy in circles around her mother. Suddenly, a friendly voice echoed throughout the camp to her.
"Ariava! The Keeper is looking for you, she says she has a special lesson for you today!" Tamlen, a small blonde elf the same age as Ariava called over from a nearby hill.
"Oh!" Ariava ran off immediately, almost forgetting her mother in her flurry. Running backwards she hastily yelled "I'll be back mamae" before spinning back around and sprinting up the hill, giggles in her breath.
Curls abashed by wind, Ariava arrived at the Keepers brightly colored aravel, cartwheeling and giggling hysterically around it.
My birthday and a special lesson, on a day like this?
The blue sky and sun twinkling through the trees was always enough to lift her mood, let alone the chance to practice her magic. Ariava could not believe her luck.
"You don't expect to learn with your feet in the air and head in the dirt, do you?" Ariava stopped herself mid-cartwheel at the comment and fell onto her back with an "Oomph".
"Care to revise first?" the soft-spoken keeper continued. Scrambling to her feet, Ariava grinned and nodded at the elderly keeper. Tattoo ridden and silver haired, she was firm but warm with eyes of grey that twinkled as she smiled.
Ariava stood and took a few steps back, distancing herself a little from the keeper. She closed her emerald green eyes tight, screwed up her face with concentration and held out her hands before her. With a large whoosh, a ball of fire appeared in her hands, the flames licking her palm as she manipulated the ball to her will.
"And you didn't even singe your hair this time" the Keeper smiled at Ariava as she played with the fire she made.
"Ok, now concentrate that flame towards the fire pit and try not to close your eyes, otherwise you could misaim" the keeper warned.
Scrunching her nose and pouting a little, Ariava guided the flames to the fire pit, dancing it through the air and onto the twigs before her.
"You have improved much da'len" the keepers eyes wrinkled deep in smile. "Now, this may be a little different, but I'm sure you can manage". She motioned for Ariava to sit in the grass with her, using her staff to lower herself slowly.
"Your warmth welcomes flames with ease, but now I want to see if you can embrace the use of ice." Ariava's eyes widened with excitement as she tried to stifle an anxious gasp.
"Do you remember the first snowfall? The southerly winds? The solid lakes?"
"I think so…"
.
.
"Do you like it?" Ariava's mother asked, stepping away from her handmade material masterpiece.
Ariava spun around gleefully, taking in the sparkling white robes made just for her. Gold embroidered leaves delicately outlined the dress like flames, with the hem being short enough to allow the ever-wriggling Ariava to run as freely as usual. The sleeves were a little longer than Ariava would have liked, but she could not deny how beautiful it was and how special she felt while wearing it. She jumped into her mothers arms and held her tightly.
"Oh mamae, it's perfect".
Soft hands stroked the wild, chestnut curls softly and tucked some strands back behind her ears.
Sniff sniff.
Ariava's eyes opened suddenly as she sniffed the air and slowly let go of her mother. She grinned cheekily to her as she burst out of the large tent and ran outside to the stew brewing before her father over a fire. He was tall for an elf, and rather muscular too, with similar long wild curls to his daughter. He chuckled as he watched her lean so far over the large pot she was at risk of falling in.
"Careful da'len, we don't want to burn your nose" his finger flicked the end of her small celestial nose.
She rubbed her nose, giggling and took one more large sniff before sitting herself next to her father and fiddling with his bow and its intricate carvings.
"I still can't believe of all dishes, your favorite is this shem mush," he chuckled heartily, slowly stirring the brown sludge in the pot. "At least it keeps us warm, and I've a few ideas to improve it".
The sun was starting to set now, the trees outlined with bright pink and purple skies. Soon, the whole clan was gathered around a large fire enjoying the fresh stew and birthday celebrations with pipes and drums inciting dance around the fire.
Ariava twirled around with delight, her father often catching her before she tripped over her own feet. Her clumsiness never dampened her enthusiasm, though it did little for her coordination. Finally breaking free from dancing, Ariava noticed Tamlen gesturing frantically from the edge of the camp, near the forest. Knowing she was not allowed to stray from camp after dark, she checked that no one was looking and ran with him into the woods.
Giggling together in the moonlight, they leaped over logs and snuck to a nearby shallow river. She had always enjoyed her secret rendezvous with Tamlen, especially when a stream could be found to play in. They searched the muddy banks for smooth pebbles together and skimmed stones across the sparkling river.
"So what did Keeper Marethari teach you today? Can you show me?" Tamlen asked, fascinated with his magical friend.
She looked at him with an embarrassed expression "I… I haven't really mastered it or anything. All I can really do is this…"
She pushed out her hands and crinkled her nose in concentration as a wave of snowflakes flew around Tamlen, sending shivers down his spine.
"Wow…" he exclaimed with awe. "I wish I was a mage, I would love to have magic powers!"
"Really? What kind of powers?" Ariava questioned him, intrigued as she sat herself down on a moss-ridden log.
"Oh I'd just be happy to do anything magical. Though, I often dream of being a primal mage of phenomenal power!" He jumped around the logs and rocks of the bank setting invisible enemies on fire, or striking them with lightning and a mighty roar. Ariava giggled as she watched his antics.
His icy blue eyes turned to her and he suddenly changed his tune "I have something for you, for your birthday!".
The small elf fumbled in his pocket before pulling out a small, wooden (slightly clumsy in its carving) Halla and placed it tenderly in her hands.
"I made it myself. Mamae's been teaching me in case I don't make it as a hunter" his head fell a little at the thought.
Ariava looked at the treasure lovingly, "It's beautiful! Are you sure you want to give it to me?".
"Like I said, it's a birthday present! Please, keep it!" Tamlen insisted, pushing her palms closed as he sat next to her on the mossy log. She admired the small statuette and all it's details quietly.
"Thank you, Tamlen." She looked to him and smiled, her green eyes sparkling from the reflections of the water.
Tamlen looked nervous, and had suddenly gone bright red. She tilted her head inquisitively at him when all of a sudden his lips met hers in a light kiss. Parting and smiling broadly, Tamlen ran off back towards the camp.
"Race you!" he yelled behind him.
Ariava, now bright red herself, smiled as she jumped up to follow him.
SPLASH!
Heavy breathing.
Ariava gasped as she turned behind her to find a human man picking himself up out of the river. Fighting to his knees in his long robes and catching his breath, his head turned back behind him as dogs barked and voices echoed throughout the forest.
"He's over by the river, find him before he does any more harm".
The robed man suddenly noticed the small child frozen with fear in front of him, the barking getting louder as the dogs grew closer. He lunged at Ariava grabbing the small elf tight, a hand clasped over her mouth. She kicked and struggled with all her might but to no avail. She gripped her wooden halla tight. The dogs arrived barking loudly and snapping at the ankles of the man, making Ariava wince.
"FUCK OFF YOU BEASTS", the man yelled too loud. Ariava shuddered as his haggard breath hit the tips of her ears.
"There he is! Hold! He has a child with him" a man in large armor commanded to the others.
The soldiers circled them, their swords drawn. She couldn't help but notice a slight blue aura glowing around the soldiers and the flaming swords embellished on their armor. The dogs stopped barking, but remained pointed at the man, growling.
"Come any closer and the elf dies" the soaking runaway warned, and tightened his grip on the her. He drew out a knife and held it to her throat; The trickle of water now the only sound between the men.
Ariava glanced towards camp, praying her clan would be running out to save her at any moment.
"You've done enough harm, apostate" the Knight-Commander spat at last, his aura glowing brighter by the minute.
Seeing the runaway distracted, Ariava closed her eyes, scrunched up her face and aimed her hands down at the mans robes, setting the hem on fire. The man yelped, dropping Ariava, and doused out the flames himself with a chill wind. Ariava couldn't believe her eyes. He was also a mage… She scrambled away from the man, only to find herself in the grip of one of the soldiers.
The human mage glared at them before raising his knife into the air yelling "you shall NEVER take me back there!".
In one swoop of his arm the blade entered his wrist, but before any blood could even hit the water the man began to change. Screams of pain echoed throughout the forest as he began grow out of his own skin, robes splitting at the seams, his height now too great for the hems. His eyes turned bloodshot and rolled into the back of his head, with the skin from his chin crawling up over his mouth. The bones of his fingers stretched out forcefully, and protruded into long, sharp claws while his shoulders bulged with veins and rotting flesh. He had turned into a large, contorted creature of nightmares; an abomination.
Ariava felt faint at the sight before her.
Two of the soldiers and the Knight-Commander leapt forward and easily thwarted the abomination in a few swift slashes, the bloody remains washing away to nothing in the river.
"Do you still have the girl?" the Knight-Commander sheathed his sword and turned to her. "Good, we need to take her to the tower."
"Are-Are you sure Sir?" the young soldier stammered, loosening his grip slightly as he questioned his greying Knight-Commander.
"She's a mage. You saw her set that idiots robes on fire, and being outside of the circle tower? That makes her an apostate. Just like him". The Knight-Commander looked down at the small elf before him. Her large, green eyes were glossy and wide. She was scared beyond belief.
"What if she's one of the dalish sir? She-she doesn't look like the typical elves we see in the city Alienages." the young soldier protested, his hazel eyes alight.
The Knight-Commander regarded her for a moment, "The Dalish haven't walked through these lands in centuries. She's a mage and there's no clan around to claim her. Take the apostate to the tower immediately".
"But I'm not an apos… apos… I AM Dalish, my name is Ariava Surana of the Sabrae clan, my father is a hunter and my mother… Please let me go! Let me go!"
She broke free of the young soldiers grasp and immediately attempted to drench the Knight-Commander in flames. She gaped at the man helplessly as the flames hit some sort of invisible barrier. Staggering, a heavy wave hit her, leaving her breathless.
She collapsed onto the bank, dropping her birthday treasure from Tamlen into the river.
.
.
A constant drip of water, a howl of wind and a crackling fire; Ariava stirred into consciousness only to find herself on the bottom of a wooden bunk-bed surrounded by brick.
A cage.
She scrambled amongst the layers of blankets, searching for a way out of her prison.
"Rest child, you've had a long day".
She jumped to find a lady not too unlike her Keeper bending down to her, tucking her curls behind her ear and sitting gently down on to the bed.
Looking around the room, she saw many other bunk-beds, surrounded by even more brick.
No sky, no leaves, no birds.
"Where's Mamae? Papa? Tamlen?… Where's my clan?" she burst out to the old lady, her eyes watering.
"Your clan? You are not from the alienage?" the old lady furrowed her brow in concern, rubbing the back of the elven child gently, as a mother would.
"What's an alienage? I-I want to go home" she couldn't hold her tears back anymore. They streamed down her cheek and her nose began to feel stuffy.
"Shh, hush child" the old lady held her close, "you ARE home now. I'm sorry that you know nothing of what has happened, but I promise you, this place will become home to you soon enough and we will be your family".
Ariava clung tightly to her only source of comfort and peered tearfully around the room again. The bunk-beds were everywhere, some of which were filled with other children (most of them younger than herself) all lined up, peacefully asleep.
"Where am I?" she finally mustered between tears.
"You're at Klinoch Hold, otherwise known as the Circle of Magi. This is where mages, like yourself, gather to live and learn the ways of magic safely under the watch of the Chantry" the old lady smiled kindly at the young elf, her grey eyes twinkling in the flicker of the flaming torches lining the cold stone walls.
"My name is Wynne, and welcome to your new home".
My cage, my prison. I never should have wandered from my clan...