It was a common fantasy among those in the Circle of Magi to be free from their stone prison. Nora Amell shared that fantasy, often dozing with dreams of running through golden fields of barley, or rolling through a patch of the spring's pastel flowers. It was, and would only be, a matter of imagination. After all, the only resources from which she could assume how the waters rippled or how the clouds condensed were from paintings and tomes. Her world was created from something first seen through a stranger's eyes. It had always been second-hand.
There were rare occasions when a mage or initiate might leave the tower, but none of them had ever been present in her life. A funeral, or business with the Chantry, or perhaps a conscription into war. Some mages were even known to leave with Templar overseers during the holidays, though assumptions on how that was accomplished ran wild and remained uncertain. With no family, no obligations outside of the Circle, and no higher rank that would come with duties, Nora was bound to the tower until fate saw it fit to release her into the world.
Which was about five hours ago.
She had been summoned by her betters, dragged from the library by two of the Templar guards without a word. It may as well have been an execution, as sudden and unprecedented as it was. When she saw both the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander in the same room, however, her mind wandered past the possibility of this being a death sentence. Another man was there, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, broad in stature and square-faced. He was armed and armored, a well-made sword and shield held securely on his back. She was quite sure she had never seen him in the halls of the tower. He introduced himself as Theleon, a Grey Warden of Ferelden traveling the country to look for recruits. Nora had come recommended for conscription by Irving himself, which was a bit of a shock to the newly appointed mage.
The First Enchanter remarked many times about the great potential he saw in her. In his eyes, there were few so dedicated to knowledge and learning their craft as she was. Perhaps that was the biggest problem Nora faced, that after all her studies she was still learning. Her understanding of manipulating the arcane and one's spirit far surpassed a majority of her peers'. Her weakness lied in the application and execution of her magic. Her Harrowing was proof of that.
It had taken her much longer than most to complete her trials, clashing against the forces of the Fade until the very last second. Her willpower had been pushed to its limit, and it was only by an act of mercy from a benevolent spirit that she was able to overcome these obstacles. When she awoke, it was clear that the Templars considered this a failure. Nora remembered feeling the cold, steel blade pressed against her neck as her eyelids fluttered open. Had the First Enchanter not pried the Templar's sword away himself, she would have been slain on the spot. The stress alone left her bed-rest for a few days.
So why was a mage who barely passed her initiation recommended as a candidate for the Grey Wardens?
She didn't have time to ask. They had barely exchanged pleasantries before she was told to pack for several days of travel. At first, she resisted. Not for the sake of being difficult, but only because it happened so fast. She had read plenty of historical accounts of the Grey Wardens and knew their ways, their methods and their practices. To be considered as a candidate for recruitment, however, was more than she could process. In a daze, Nora took whatever she could fit into her leather pack, clothes, small soaps, several thin books, and a few luxury items. When she returned, the only ones who remained in that corridor were Theleon and a very familiar elven mage.
There was no chance to ask questions or even engage in conversation. Theleon demanded that they leave immediately, and the Templar guards obliged. With all of the sudden chaos, it had just now dawned on Nora that this meant she would be able to set foot in the outside world. A life of being contained in these walls was about to come to a close, even if only for a short time. Whether she came back to the Circle or not, she would have experienced something that so many dreamed of, including herself. She was about to experience the true beauty of what lied outside the tower, this time not through paintings but through her own eyes.
The doors were opened, and she hesitated. Not out of awe or emotion, but from an overwhelming fear. The fear that there was something wrong with the land, something that spoke words of poison to her in a language she didn't understand. A heaviness lingered in the air, making her even more wary to advance. It was confusing and disorienting, nothing like she had imagined. There was no artistic magnificence or awe-inspiring scenery. There was only an embarrassing amount of uncertainty and regret. She turned back to the tower, but the only home she had ever known had been sealed tightly behind her. Theleon and the other mage had already descended down the stairs, stepping into the boat that would take them across the lake. With her head hung low, Nora followed them.
Her footing was unsteady stepping into the boat, and she would have fallen into the water had Kester not caught her. Ashamed of her clumsiness, Nora sat away from her company, arms folded and knees tightly pressed together. She kept her head down, not even having the slightest desire to look at her surroundings. Here was the chance for freedom she had craved, the supposed wonder of the open air and waters from her fantasies, and she chose to fixate her gaze on a plank of wood. She didn't even lift her head until they reached the shore. Theleon paid a fair amount of coin to the boatman, who thanked him and gave them all some words of caution.
"You all be careful walking out in the open, now. Sky's been growling like a hungry wolf all evening. I've seen it before, and I'd wager that we're about to have a mighty violent storm."
It was no exaggeration. They had barely crossed the River Dane before the storm showed its violent nature. The gales roiled the icy waters, Lake Calenhad sullied with the same murky grey as the dark clouds suffocating the sky. Roars of thunder shook the ground under their feet, the landscape illuminated each time lightning splintered the night sky. Rain came soon after, clearly with the intent to flood the land. The torrential downpour was deafening, eliminating their field of vision past only a couple of yards. It was miserable, frightening, and unlike anything Nora had ever thought to expect. The only thing she wanted now was to go back home.
At the front of the group Theleon raised his arms. He extended them out, and made a wide gesture towards his right. From her position, Nora could barely make out what looked to be little more than a large, black mass on the horizon. Having no choice other than to remain out in the storm, the three of them bolted towards it, and discovered that the indistinguishable hump was actually a small cave. Sighs of relief filled its enclosure, followed by exhausted panting as they tried to catch their breath.
"There's no way we're going to be able to travel any further." Theleon wiped his face with his hand, only managing to smear the droplets of water across his skin. "We have no choice but to wait until the storm passes."
Nora sniffed loudly, her dark brown hair soaked and matted across her forehead, and plastered against her neck. She gathered as much of it as she could, tilting her head to the side and wringing the shoulder-length locks tightly. After a long, winded sigh, she looked outside with an expression of disdain. The rain had created an opaque, grey veil past the cave's mouth, letting little light inside.
A shiver ran down her spine. Her robes had become extraordinarily heavy from the saturation. She wrung out her sleeves, then bent to gather her hem and squeezed as much water out of the fabric as possible. Nora tried to step out of her boots, but they clung to her skin far too tightly. And even if she managed to take them off, she might not be able to get them back on. She would have to just settle for having cold feet. But, for the first time this evening, she had the chance to exhale and calm down. It was a welcomed respite, though a rather cold and damp one.
Nora turned to her peer, who was no doubt selected for candidacy, as well. He didn't seem bothered by the amount of water weighing down his robes. If he were, he was doing an excellent job covering that annoyance with an expression of... Perhaps a different sort of annoyance. His face was cold and sharp, bearing the long, and pointed features of his elven heritage. Nora had rather elongated features, herself, but compared to him she was as square and blunt as a bookshelf.
She bit her bottom lip, and decided to break the silence. "It's different, isn't it? Compared to the spells they teach us."
It took a moment, but he realized that she was speaking directly to him. "What?"
His voice was a little more nasally and boyish than she had expected. It actually eased her, a little. "The storm. The lightning in the sky, it's different compared to what we harness in elemental magic."
"You've never seen lightning before?"
"Of course I have. But not to such an extent." She offered him a tired smile. "It's rather... Striking, isn't it?"
He seemed in no mood to humor her. The arch of his brow, the sarcastic line in which his lips were drawn, the slight narrow of his eyes, even the tight braid that held back every strand of his jet black hair, it was all so typical of him. They never had a word of conversation prior to this, but like most initiates and established mages in the Circle, Nora knew this elf well.
He had already achieved a rare level of respect from his instructors in commanding primal magics, but his greatest accomplishment by far was completing the Harrowing faster than any other mage in Ferelden's Circle ever had. It wasn't simply a new record, it was unheard of. Even weeks after he had completed his trials, the name 'Carrow Surana' echoed throughout the halls. He was at a point that most could only dream of reaching, especially at his young age. There were even rumors that the First Enchanter was going to initiate a petition for him to serve as part of the King's army.
It was no wonder why he would be here. But the doubts over her own selection still bothered her. The question rang in her mind once more... Why had she been recommended, along with such a powerful and promising mage, to leave the Circle and stand among the Grey Wardens?
The chill began to sink past her skin and into her bones, rousing her from her thoughts. She instinctively folded her arms to try to retain what little warmth she had left, but it didn't make any difference. Teeth chattering, she turned to him again. "Uhm... Your expertise is in elemental magic, right? Can you spark a flame so we can make a fire?"
Carrow glanced around the cave. "Out of what? I don't see any tinder." Despite the dark color of his eyes, there was an intimidating intensity to them. Enough to make Nora wonder if she should have really asked him to do something so trivial.
She began to reach for her pack. "I have some perfume. Jenneth Fairfield scarred herself because she had been practicing her fire magic too close to her fragrances." Indeed. The female initiate dormitory had smelled like jasmine and burnt hair for two weeks.
The elf shook his head and snorted derisively. "Unless you're trying to weaponize your toiletries, I wouldn't suggest that."
Nora sighed, her body shivering violently. "Well... I have books, too. Any warmth will do. Maker, I've never been so cold."
The sound of Theleon's armor clattering caught both of their attention. "You will have to endure much harsher conditions in your life, I can promise you that. At any rate, you won't have time to build anything proper. We're leaving the second this storm eases."
A crash of thunder was all it took to make her whimper. Nora stared at the Warden with wide, blue eyes. "What if the rain continues throughout the night? Will we be caught here until the morning?"
He looked positively defeated, standing in a small puddle of rainwater. Even his chainmail couldn't stop some from finding its way inside the armor. "That's what I fear."
Carrow shifted from his position, stepping in front of Theleon. His pulled back his shoulders and pushed out his chest, trying to mirror the bulkier form of the Warden. "You took us out of the Circle to make us Grey Wardens."
"Yes, I did."
The elf raised a brow, and his tone quickly turned aggressive. "Then aren't we supposed to prove our worth? We're standing idle, now, absolutely useless. Let us duel, and show that we are fit for the title." Nora thought a quick, internal prayer for that not to be the process of initiation.
Theleon shook his head. "No, no. It is not that simple."
That was even less promising. Both mages watched him begin to pace slowly through the cave, head bowed down as he thought to himself.
"...It will be unceremonious." Theleon furrowed his brow with a deep groan. "Improper, perhaps, but I see no other way. We have no choice... We'll be lucky if we can reach the battle at all."
Silence filled the air around them.
"...It would appear the Circle hasn't informed you of current events. Very well..." Theleon sighed. "There has been an emergence of Darkspawn... More than usual, as of late. Many of our order are concerned that this may be another Blight. The King's armies have already marched towards the south, and we were prepared to make our stand at Ostagar. But I fear as though we might not make it in time." He shook his head. "Tell me, what do you know of the Darkspawn?"
Nora swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. "...The Chantry taught us about the mages who became the first Darkspawn... As well as the Blight. It's one of the first things you learn, once you reach adolescence... But... I've never seen one in person."
Theleon nodded. "You two are quite lucky, in that regard. There have been many innocents slain at the hands of those fiends. Needless slaughter driven by soulless, barbaric rage... The only desire being to massacre countless lives and corrupt the lands beneath their feet." He stopped pacing and raised his head. "Thus, our order came to be. The sole purpose of the Grey Wardens is to combat the Blight. You two have been found exceptional, and worthy of joining our ranks for this cause."
He reached around to take off the leather pack. Opening the flap, he removed a very ornate, silver chalice with intricate engravings, as well as a corked, brown bottle. Theleon set his belongings on the ground and twisted the cork out of the bottle's mouth. He tilted the neck, and from it flowed a dark, thick fluid.
Carrow peered down his nose at the small stream. "What is that? Liquor?"
The Warden tipped back the bottle once it had been emptied. "This... Is Darkspawn blood. Normally, when the initiation is performed, recruits will go off and harvest the blood themselves. I don't believe we have the time or the means to embark on that traditional hunt.
Nora turned towards him, her curiosity fully peaked. "What is it used for?"
Theleon's tone had become much darker, and much more foreboding of something unpleasant that was sure to come. "W drink it. We take the blood into our beings, and from it we gain knowledge. We gain insight, and a honed sense for the evil in this land. We gain an understanding for the dark forces at work, and from that we are able to strike them down. In short... We gain the ability to defeat the Darkspawn."
"But you... Drink it. You drink the blood." Carrow echoed. Theleon nodded and dropped the empty bottle to the ground. All that he held now was the chalice, filled with one of the most horrific substances this world had ever seen. The elf clenched his fists. "And if we refuse?"
"You will not refuse." Nora's eyes traveled down the Warden's body, and saw that there was a dagger by his hip that she had not noticed before. This was a threat, and Carrow seemed to realize that just as well. He raised his upper lip at Theleon, a test to the sincerity of this suggestion. A tense silence filled the space between them, and after what felt like hours of the two staring each other down, Carrow bowed his head and relaxed his posture. Theleon closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, holding out the chalice while he spoke.
"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry out the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten... And that one day, we shall join you."
He opened his eyes, closing the oath with a call to duty. "Step forward, Carrow Surana."
The elf stared down at the goblet. He looked up, locking eyes with the Warden. "You're serious?"
Theleon reached a hand down and rested his palm on the pommel of his dagger. "Step forward, Carrow Surana."
It was answer enough. Carrow extended his hands, taking the chalice and swirling the blood inside. It was sickeningly viscous, and blacker than the shadows that painted the cracks in the cave walls. His nose wrinkled in disgust, and his throat rumbled with a low growl. In one swift movement, he lifted the rim to his lips and tilted his head back. His face scrunched into a grimace, and a little trail of the blood dribbled down the corner of his mouth. The elf's lips curled back, showing off his clenched teeth, blood leaving a thin film over the enamel and in the spaces between his incisors. It was a gruesome sight, one that left Nora thoroughly nauseated.
A moment passed. Carrow pursed his lips, the blood leaving a foul taste on his tongue, but remained standing. "...I think I thought that was going to be a lot worse than it actually was." He handed the chalice back to Theleon before rolling out his shoulders in a relieved stretch. The Warden stared at the elf intently, not taking his eyes off of him for a second. Carrow began to slowly step back until his shoulders hit the cave's wall, and slid down into a seated position. He tilted his head back, and his cheeks began to pale. The elf barely even blinked before his demeanor changed, and now he looked close to death's door.
"Are you alright?" Nora asked as he rubbed his eyes.
His hand fell limply to his side, and his breathing became more and more labored. Nora crawled over to his side, placing her pointer and middle finger against his neck. His pulse ran wild, his face was an odd shade of yellow, and his skin was clammy to the touch... But it hadn't killed him. Carrow was unconscious, but his heart was beating and he was breathing.
"Nora Amell... Step forward, and meet your fate."
The words shook her to her core. She looked at the goblet with wide eyes, slowly shifting her gaze to the Warden. This was too much... If it had incapacitated someone much stronger than her in mere moments, what was it going to do to her body? She shook her head, pleading for relief with a meek and fearful voice. "I... I don't know if I can."
"You must."
Again, Nora took note of the blade on his hip, and realized that she had no choice in the matter. Shaking, she extended her hands and cupped the chalice. The blood was even more vile up close, and had a deathly stench that permeated throughout the cave. Nora gave one last pathetic look at Theleon, who nodded at her, hardened determination in his eyes. Slowly, she placed her lips on the rim of the goblet and tilted her head back. The blood graced her lips, spreading along her cupid's bow and nearly causing her to vomit from that sensation alone. It was poison, after all, wasn't it? By some act of the Maker, she was eventually able to part her lips and let the thick, viscous toxin run down her throat.
It was abominable. The burning, the rotting smell, the very idea that she was consuming a fluid that came from such horrid creatures nearly caused her to push the chalice away. But she endured for as long as she could, until she could no longer breathe and dropped the empty cup on the stone floor. She began to cough violently, and curled up next to the elf. It set her soul on fire. It scorched her mouth, her throat, her stomach and her heart, her very center of being. Her arms wrapped around her stomach and she began to convulse, body wracked with merciless tremors.
She felt as though the floor had opened up and swallowed her whole, her body now falling helplessly into the abyss. A terrible noise crept into her ears. It was the sound of something inhuman, screeching and bleating in an atrocious harmony. It became louder and louder, more voices joining in to sing a ballad of destruction, a song of endless agony for all life. This, she knew, was certain, though she could not recognize the tongue that rejoiced in it. It was without meaning. It only was.
And then, at once, nothing. The voices ceased, and her ground was steady. Her mind and her body felt numb, unresponsive to even the most simple commands. Though, now, she could hear a different voice. A familiar one. It spoke in a similar language to the song from before... But now she could understand it.
Theleon's voice rang softly in her ears. "...Are you awake, Nora?"
Her lips trembled, her own voice reduced to a meager breath. "...I... Can't move..."
"That's alright. It will pass. The important thing is that you're alive." His sigh of relief was followed by a tired chuckle. "You're an over-achiever, aren't you? Drinking all the blood there was... You only needed a sip."
Nora could have slapped him, but resolved to only mentally call him the filthiest of profanities.
"Carrow is still unconscious, but you both survived the Joining... Excellent. Allow me to prepare something for you. A reminder of the sacrifice you made on this day."
She still felt ill, but the burning was gone. She remembered once when she was a child she lost consciousness. Some of her friends were kicking around a heavy ball, and the leather sphere began to build more and more momentum. Nora was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and after a strong kick by one of the older boys the ball flew past the target goal and knocked her out cold. When she woke, she was laying in a recovery bed, in a similar state to how she was, now. Dazed, exhausted, in a tremendous amount of pain but alive. It was funny, how the...
Her eyes shot wide open. The noise was back. The song, the ballad she had heard in that nightmare... It was slower. Shorter, as if it were being played in small, whispered bursts. It was present, but only because it had to be, melody skittering along the walls and ceiling. It was here.
A disorienting shriek rang out, followed by the screams of the Warden. A garbled cry filled Nora's ears, as did a far more terrible sound. It twisted and it tore, like someone were ripping flesh off the bone. Nora remained paralyzed, watching unidentifiable shadows dance wickedly on the wall. A splatter of blood shot onto the stone, dark in color but notably red. One of the figures rose, exceptionally tall and inhumanely thin. It turned towards her, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the brown skin of something that could only be describe as a walking nightmare. She scrunched her eyes shut, and the only thing she could hear now was her heart racing in her chest.
A piercing bolt of elemental lightning shot by her head, lighting up the room and hitting the creature directly in its jaw. It flew into the other side of the cave with an ear-splitting scream, the crunch of shattered bones audible and unmistakable. Nora slowly opened her eyes, using every bit of her strength to turn her head and look behind her. Carrow rested against the wall, and she saw that the mage had risen to his feet. His eyes were sunken and his skin was still a strange color, but he was standing firm as his fingers crackled with electrical energies.
The creature clawed at the ground, unable to do much more than flail its arms and legs like an incapacitated roach. Carrow limped over to the corpse of the Grey Warden. He picked up his sword, dragging it behind him as he hobbled over to the writhing monster. Placing both hands on the hilt, he raised the blade and drove it into the back of the fiend. The unmistakable black blood of this Darkspawn pooled under its body, and with one last, shrill cry it fell limp against the floor.
Carrow turned to her, body shuddering with heavy breaths. "...Can you move?"
That was a good question. She wriggled her fingers, and then her toes, relieved at feeling all her digits move with ease. Knees wobbling and head still spinning, she somehow managed to pull herself up in a seated position. Her palm went to her forehead, trying to steady her vision. It took a bit before the dizziness began to subside, allowing her to focus her sight on the bled-out body of their guide.
"Theleon?" Nora gasped, covering her mouth with one of her hands at the terrifying display. She knew it was his blood on the wall, but the extent of that fatal wound was far deeper than she realized. A gaping hole had been cut into his neck, and it was clear that something had reached in to tear out the muscles and tendons. The Warden's lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling and his mouth was wide open as it tried to gasp for a useless breath of air. The expression on his face perfectly and horrifically documented his last moments of fear. "...He's dead. He was a Grey Warden, and that... It killed him."
Carrow looked down at his shoes, some of the black blood having splattered onto the leather. "He wasn't a very good Warden, then, was he?"
Nora glared at him, the former awe she held for his prowess having now run completely dry. But there it was. The corpse of the Darkspawn, mottled and mangled from corruption, dead on the floor as a slimy drool leeched from its maw. "...You killed it with one shot. How... How did you do that?"
Carrow's face was finally starting to revert back to its usual, healthier color. "I didn't kill it with one shot, I killed it with the sword. Either way, it doesn't matter. It's dead, now." He looked around with a curious expression, until his eyes finally landed on a missing portion in the rock above them. "...It came down through the ceiling. Look." He pointed upwards, guiding their line of sight. Even in the darkness, a clear hole could be seen in the top of the cave.
Nora began to pick herself up off the floor, finding a new sense of urgency. "What do we do now?"
Carrow took a few, slow steps around the cave before noticing the Warden's pack on the stone floor. The elf bent a knee and began to dig through every little compartment for any sort of idea on how to answer that question. Military rations and armor polish were thrown carelessly on the floor, neither of those things being of any use, now. He finally pulled out an unsullied envelope, found at the bottom of the bag. It had been opened once, the wax seal on the back slightly broken but still legible. Carefully, he peeled it from the paper and squinted his eyes to examine it closely.
It was surprisingly intricate for its size, an indention of a gryphon with raised claws and flared wings sitting in the center of the red wax. Turning it over a couple of times, Carrow slipped it into his chest pocket and opened the envelope. It took him a bit of time to make out the written word in the dimly lit cave, but he eventually came to a conclusion. "This is a letter of summons."
Nora staggered over to the elf, leaning down to try and read it for herself. Her lips moved as she read the script, but she only spoke the last word. "...Ostagar. Theleon said that's where the battle was taking place."
Carrow rose to his feet and walked to the corpse of the Warden. He placed a boot on the man's chest before reaching down to take his dagger. With one more surveying look, the elf picked up his own belongings and began to walk outside. Nora watched him, then looked to the cave's mouth. The rain was but a light drizzle, now, and the sky was pitch black.
"Wait." The shakiness had found its way back to her voice, her eyes having once again found the body of the Warden. "...We can't just leave him like this. We have to bury him, or give him a pyre..."
Carrow turned, his eyes slightly narrowed as he looked his peer up and down. "You can stay and do whatever you want."
The brevity of that response shocked Nora at first, until she realized the hole the Darkspawn crawled out of was directly over her head. Nora quickly began to gather her things, watching the elf step out into the night. No matter how many times she turned away, however, her gaze kept drifting to Theleon's body, his face white and his lips blue, laying in a pool of his own blood. "...I'm so sorry." She mumbled, trying to think of something she could do, anything she could offer to honor his passing.
Nora paused, and opened her pack. She took out the heftiest of tomes and tore the last page from it. Quickly but carefully, she began to fold down the edges. Her fingers nimbly worked the sheet of white parchment, giving it shape and form with several more bends and creases. It was a hobby she indulged in when she needed a break from her studies, something that could keep her close to her books but still refresh her mind. She gave it one last creasing and then held a white, paper flower bloom in her hand. It was shaped like a lily, some of the only flowers that were brought to the Circle, used in ceremony for the mages who passed away.
Nora gently placed the paper flower on his chest and spread her hand across it. Focusing intently, she lifted her fingers and the little paper bloom began to float without her touch. By the will of her spirit, and the specialty of her magic, it had become suspended about an inch above his chest. "Maker take you... If you believed in such a thing." She tore herself away from his side, running to the cave's front.
She was absolutely exhausted. A little hiccup burst from her throat, followed by a short sob. Nora buried her face in her hands, doing her best to calm her nerves but failing rather spectacularly. Her fingers wove into her tangled hair, gripping her head as she shook it violently. Forget what she expected, this was not what she wanted. She had been taken away from her home, dragged through the assaulting storm, and forced to ingest the blood of monsters. For all she knew, she could have been poisoned with only three days to live. Now, without guide or reason, she was left stranded outside of some cave in the middle of some nameless valley. It made her shake and sob, and all she wanted to do was scream.
But that was her limit. She had expended all of her energy in that last fit. That was all she had. Nora slumped her shoulders and ran her hands down her face. Resigned, she knew what she had to do. She would have to go back to the Circle, and tell the First Enchanter what happened. Perhaps one of the Senior Enchanters would have the means to heal her. She would have to return to her room, take a lukewarm bath, and go to bed right away. And she would not leave the tower until she was old and her body withered. That was the fate of most mages. At least now she would have a cautionary tale to tell the new apprentices. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
She didn't quite register the sight in front of her, at first. She did notice that the storm had now completely passed, and the sky was clear. The clouds had broken, and that had made way for the moon and stars to cast down a surreal light over the land. She paused, taken aback at the sheer amount of those little lights in the sky, glittering like gems and blessing her with their brilliance. Her eyes traveled downward, looking across the land. The details were clear, at last, from every blade of grass to the wind blowing gentle ripples across the water. It was a scene that only the divine could create.
This was the beauty she sought, breathtaking in every sense of the word.
Nora snapped out of her trance, and under the night's magnificent, silver glow she could see the elf at the bottom of the hill. She watched him look to his left and then to his right. He looked lost. Despite his callous attitude, he had gone through the same ordeal as she had. He had been taxed to his limits just the same, and that thought was comforting. Neither of them had to go through this alone.
She had to reach him. He was still in ear-shot, and catching his attention was either now or never. Nora inhaled deeply, and called to him across the field with a newfound energy. "Carrow! Wait!" She sprinted down the hill, the slippery grass testing her balance with each step.
Carrow turned to her, a bit confused, holding his tongue until she reached him. "What?"
Nora paused to catch her breath. "...Where are you going? To Ostagar?"
"No. I'm going back to the Circle."
She brushed back her hair, very aware that she looked like an absolute mess. "Really? Why? Do you want to go back?"
Carrow shrugged. "That doesn't matter. There's nowhere else to go."
Nora shook her head. "Yes, there is. We're Grey Wardens, now, remember? Our place is no longer in that tower. It's out here."
A cool breeze ruffled the hems of their robes, chilling them thoroughly. Carrow looked behind him, in the direction they had traveled, the tower's light barely visible at their distance. "...Do you have a better idea?"
"I might." Nora stepped next to him, turning around and pointing to several tall, marble arches on the horizon. "See that? That's the Imperial Highway. If we reach it and travel south, we'll eventually hit a crossroads. Next to that intersection is a small town called Lothering. I think we should head there."
A brief moment of pause passed between the two before he made a little, disgruntled noise. "I don't know. Lothering doesn't even sound like the name of a town."
Nora rolled her eyes, but kept her patience. "...I promise it is. It's a trade town, it sees a lot of people from all over the land. Someone might be able to help us, or there might be word on the situation towards the south, about the Grey Wardens. Also, there will be food... Warm food. And warm beds." Just the thought was enough to make her flush with delight.
The elf nodded slowly. Perhaps his judgement was hindered by the freezing cold, but nevertheless he found himself entertaining the idea. "Are you sure you'll be able to find the way?"
"I think so, yes. I've seen plenty of maps, and we have the sky to guide us, as well."
He looked up, and then gave her one last nod. "Very well. Let's go."
Nora smiled warmly at Carrow, every line and detail of his face illuminated by the moonlight. His gaze was kept steady on the horizon, head held high but lips sealed from the moment they began walking. No one spoke a word at first, and it would have seemed as though their trek to Lothering would be a silent one. Ah, well. She did take comfort in knowing the company she traveled with was incredibly capable, in both wit and combat. And, by elven and even human standards, intriguingly attractive. A little, girlish giggle found its way out of her lips, surprising the both of them.
"What?"
Nora waved a dismissive hand, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, nothing. Only that... How do you not know about Lothering? You've had to have had a history class about it while you were still an apprentice. It was the battleground during the second Orlesian invasion. King Vanedrin Theirin was slain on those grounds. I know you had to learn it, it was on the junior test. It was an entire chapter of our textbooks, at that." The silence resumed once more. It had been a long, strenuous day with a terribly sobering end. Perhaps a little quiet and thought would do them both some good.
Normally, at this time of night, Nora would get to dream about a life outside of the tower. A life filled with running through the fields and rolling in the flowers. Tonight, she lived that dream. Whatever might come in the future, she decided to fully indulge the moment now, gazing across the marble landscape and losing herself in the constellations. And in her eyes, it was majestic.
A/N: This will probably be the only author's note I'll have in the story.
This is only an Origins universe. There might be some small modifications, like the recruitment of someone other than Duncan here, but nothing that would drastically change the source material. It is mostly a re-telling.
All seven heroes will be present, and all with custom names, but there won't be any OCs. None that are integral to the story, that is.
Romances are important, and are planned to be included.
This was a long chapter. Though, I'd like each one to average about 5k words.
With all that said, thank you for reading. See you soon.
