Prologue

'Apostate does not always mean malificarium, it's time someone told Thedas that.' Awena thought as she wove her way through the droves of trees in front of her. She could hear the templar's heavy footsteps clanking along behind her, his chainmail making that unpleasant jangling noise she had come to hate so much. She ducked behind a tree and pulled out one of the plain, steel daggers she managed to steal off the last caravan that had come too close to the Hinterlands. She heard the templar's footsteps falter, his breathing so loud even she could hear it.

"Come out, apostate!" He spat out her title like a curse. "We do this for your own good. We must protect you, from yourselves!"

"Never," whispered Awena and flung herself out from behind the tree. The templar stood before her, eyes wide in surprise. Before he even had time to lift his weapon, she muttered a freezing spell. His body stopped mid-movement, his sword half raised in defense. She took a moment to study her opponent. Just like all the others, same armor, same cocky attitude, and by the Maker even the same hair.

"May the Maker create and keep you," Awena plunged a dagger into the templar's heart. He made no noise and as she watched the fire of life dimmed from his eyes. She bit back tears and turned her back on the lone man, hurrying into The Wilds.

Was this her life now? Always travelling, never resting, and always being chased by a templar or the Circle. She pushed a low hanging pine bough out of her way and walked to the small stream and low stone outcropping she called home…for now. No doubt, she would have to move on in a day or two once the templar's body was found. As she dipped her hands into the painfully cool water, she let her unshed tears fall. How she hated killing Templers, she did it for her safety and for no other reason than that. She detested the way the old hag and her daughter lured them into the forest for sport. If it did not help her cause, she would have stopped them long ago. However, they never bothered her so she never bothered them.

Her head snapped up as a strange, guttural grunt came from the ledge of the stone outcropping. She pulled off to her right and squatted behind a shrub, gripping her dragonbone staff tight to her chest. The most hideous creature she had ever seen stepped from the undergrowth out onto the ledge. Its gnarled teeth were barred in an angry growl and it's wild eyes scanned the forest floor looking for life. It raised a darkened hand to the sky and several others broke from the brush at her level, splashing across the steam. Maker…all that time running from Templars and now she was going to die at the hands of a twisted creature she did not recognize.

To Awena's surprise, the water of the stream bubbled up and swept the feet out from under the creatures nearest here. The others who had held back squealed and disappeared back into the darkness of the Wilds. She dared to poke her head out of her hiding place and saw the strange hunched form of an old woman near her fire. When she drew nearer the old woman reached out a hand and a fire blazed to life beneath it, happily crackling on nothing.

"Come now, girl, is that how you treat someone who has saved your life?" The old woman cackled. Awena finally recognized her, thought the woman looked much better than the last time Awena laid eyes on her.

"Flemeth." Awena sat cross-legged on the ground across the fire from the witch. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"Such pretty words from a pretty girl, did they teach you that in the Circle?" The woman laughed to herself once more before settling her golden eyes upon Awena's gray ones. "So, girl, do you wonder why I chose to save your life? For surely you would have died if I had not interfered."

"What is it you want of me, Flemeth? I hear the stories, just as you do, and I know you save no one without a price." Awena sat her staff across her tattered robes.

"Observant and skillful, two things not often found together in the same woman." Flemeth mused for a second, her silver hair gleaming in the firelight. The longer Awena looked, the more sure she became that Flemeth looked…younger, somehow. "Yes, I do need your help. I have known it for ages it seems, but I never knew when I would need it or why. Why do you think I let you run about the Wilds as you do for so long? It was not out of kindness, I assure you."

"What was the reason?" Awena took a deep breath, trying to work out the other woman's riddles.

"You are not so different, you and I. Once I was young and beautiful too, full of power and ambition…but that is a tale for another time. Do you wish to see your mages freed?" Flemeth leaned forward over the fire, the light twisting her face into something truly demonic. "Yes, you do. I see it in your face. I know the reason you ran from the Circle, it is written all over your face. The Templar's were so strong, your mother so weak, and your father away in the fields. Then to see it happen again, you have long since tempered your anger into a fine steel blade. I asked a young man once how his vengeance would change the world…now I wonder the same of you."

Awena did her best to meet Flemeth's gaze. Her eyes seemed to out glow the fire before her, burning with an intense power she would never know. Flemeth licked her lips and gave a mirthless chuckle. Awena forced herself to relax, waiting for the final offer.

"My daughter, Morrigan, has just set off with the last of the Gray Wardens. The creatures you saw are nothing compared to the vast horde that now marches towards Denerium. If the Warden's fail in this task, your mages will never be free. Find my daughter and place this in with her things, after that I care not what you do, only that you meet me once more in a years time from now outside of Kirkwall." Flemeth lifted up a strange golden ring with a small amber stone placed in the center. It twinkled, fueled by some sort of inner light, which winked out of existence even as Awena watched. She held out her hand and Flemeth pressed the ring to her palm. "Be careful, girl, beware the pitfalls of love for they can cut deeper than any blade."

Before Awena could blink, the witch vanished into thin air, leaving no trace she had ever been in the camp aside from the fire still crackling in the pit. She glanced around her makeshift home and sighed, pulling herself to her feet. She stared down at the tiny ring, wondering what sort of magic it held. She slipped it into a pouch of her rucksack and slung it across her back. It seemed she had a long journey ahead of her, and Morrigan was not getting any closer.