Vigil's Keep was a positively ancient, crumbling castle that wobbled precariously on the edge of a cliff above the small city of Amaranthine, in the shire known as Amaranthine. Once upon a time it had been the castle of Teyrn Howe, the ruler of Amaranthine, but about a hundred years ago it had come into the hands of the templar order. No one knew quite how this had come to pass, although there were rumours. The most popular rumour involved a card game, a handsome young templar, and a donkey. How exactly the donkey fit in varied depending on who told the story, though. At the present, however, Vigil's Keep was a gigantic stone colossus that looked like a strong breeze was going to send it toppling into the ocean with its leaky roofs and patched walls. According to popular opinion the place should have been decreed unfit for habitation at least fifty years ago, but to this day it was still filled to the rafters with templars, recruits, random soldiers and a suspicious amount of merchants. The merchants were the typical sort; fat, grumpy, selling their wares far too expensively and complaining excessively about everything from the lodgings (too small) to the dogs (too large). It was curious, however, that they had so very fat purses when the Most Esteemed Royal Knight Commander of Vigil's Keep (who preferred Duncan, or serah at a push) insisted, sometimes multiple times a day, that there was no money in the templar coffers. Usually when asked by recruits to buy such frivolous things as new blankets. The hustle and bustle of the place was constant, and the only times it was silent was when something shady was going on. Or at night. But then again, those two things usually coincide.
At the present time there were approximately fifty templar recruits in training at Vigil's Keep, and they were all gathered in the exercise field just outside the castle. They were supposed to stand in neat lines, face the podium and be completely quiet, but the Knight Commander - sorry, Duncan - had given up trying to get them into something vaguely resembling order twenty minutes ago and just watched them mill around in exasperation. They looked like ants in a molehill. No, that was unfair to the ants. Ants were usually organized, not milling about like demented chipmunks and chittering amongst themselves like squirrels fighting over an acorn, generally causing a ruckus.
To provide contrast for this, there was a completely serene elven woman sitting in a high chair on the dais above the exercise field. She was stunningly beautiful with her long dark hair, exquisite red dress and ornate ruby necklace, matched by the earring in her slender, delicately pointed ear. The other ear was covered by a large red rose, so it was impossible to see if it too had an earring. On her forehead burned a dark red tattoo, stark against her pale skin. It was in the shape of a tower. The woman had a name, Kallian Andras, but she was more known throughout the known world by her title; Matchmaker. It sounded a lot more romantic than it actually was, for in fact she was the only living person in the world who could see the bond between mage and templar before it had manifested. A manifested bond was visible by anyone who concentrated hard enough and had enough second sight, but only the Matchmaker was ever able to see the link between unbonded mages and their templars. Behind her chair stood a templar in ceremonial chainmail, with a heavy broadsword strapped to his back. He looked to be in his forties, greying at the temples. To their side stood Duncan with a scroll in his hands.
There was something not quite right with the woman in the chair, but Anna Hawke (recruit, second year, from Lothering, preferred weapon: two-handed sword) couldn't figure out what. The woman was beautiful with her dark hair, red dress and glittering jewels, but still a sense of wrongness. It might be the vacant gaze, but they had been warned that the matchmaker was tranquil so it was no surprise to see her face expressionless like a mask. No, it was something else. Anna squinted in the mid-morning sunlight and raised her hand to shield her eyes. The Knight Commander had finished hollering at them to shut up and hold still and was now going through his speech about the Duty of the Templar Being to Guard the Mages. It was a speech they had all heard dozens of times and could most likely recite in their sleep, but they listened politely anyways. Or at least they pretended to listen. Anna was one of those who pretended, too busy musing over what it was that was odd about the woman. She stared intently at her, determined to figure out what it was that had alerted her.
It wasn't until it became her turn to step onto the dais and meet the Matchmaker's gaze that she realised what it was. The dress. No woman's dress drapes like that. Pleased that she had solved the puzzle, Anna promptly forgot all about it as was her way and merrily returned to her fellows, giving Aveline an encouraging smile as the redheaded woman stepped onto the dais to meet the matchmakers gaze.
Once the chair had been carried back to the chambers assigned to the matchmaker and the door had been closed and locked, the templar leaned over Kallian in her chair and placed his arm behind her slender back. Then he leaned over her and slid his other arm under her legs. This was the tricky bit: she didn't weigh much but if he didn't get a good grip she'd be impossible to carry. As always, she lay in his arms like a limp doll or a small child, with no apparent awareness. He turned and carried her over to the bed and laid her down gently, not wanting to cause her any unnecessary pain. Then he set about doing what had, for the last seven years, been a daily routine.
First, he removed the pretty red dress he had put on her that morning. Then he removed the thin shift she wore beneath it and Kallian laid on the bed in only her smalls, devastatingly beautiful and horrifying malformed at the same time. He fetched the required items from their chest and set about tending to his mage.
Each scar, and there were many, was gently covered in a cream of elf's ear to prevent infection, and he carefully unwrapped the thin gauze wrapped around her knees, inspecting the surfaces of the jagged stumps that was all that remained of her lower legs. They looked pink and healthy, but you never know with magical wounds and he decided to take her to a circle after they were done here. Have a healer look her over. He covered the stumps in cream made from Andraste's grace and lavender and wrapped them in fresh bandages. The old ones he would wash later, after they had eaten. After having rewrapped the bandages, he checked her hands.
Kallian's hands still had the power to bring tears to his eyes: he remembered her hands before, how she could weave the most complex spells and make them look easy. You can't weave a spell when you only have two fingers on one hand and none on the other. The hands were the most obvious sign of Kallian's suffering, and the most devastating contrast to her unmarred face. Well, unmarred apart from the brand on her forehead. The brand of tranquillity.
He held her fingered hand in his for a few moments, until he felt a miniscule squeeze of slender fingers. He gave her a trembling smile to show her it was alright, then gently worked the same cream he'd used on her legs into the skin of her hands.
When he had finished this part of the routine. He carefully lifted her up again, carrying her over to the table. The scar cream needed exposure to sunlight to be truly effective, so he usually helped Kallian with lunch after he'd used it. He sat down and adjusted her on his lap. It was easiest for the both of them, since Kallian struggled to hold a spoon and this way he could support her while she ate. Lunch was a collection of cold meat, cheese and bread, which he cut into chunks small enough for her to pick up and hold. Once she had eaten her fill, she rested her head on his shoulder: one of the few things she did that kept the hope alive in him. The hope, that she was still in there somewhere. That there was more than this broken shell.
"Templar" she whispered. Nothing else. It was the only thing she had said to him in seven years, and it was said in the same impassioned voice she said anything in. But that was all she needed to say: after all this time, he knew her almost better than he knew himself.
"Mage" he whispered into her hair, hugging her briefly. She sat there, still and silent, resting against him, until he had finished their lunch. Then he carried her back to bed, dressed her in the pretty red dress, put her jewellery back on and placed her in her high chair. He adjusted the sleeves to make sure they covered her ruined hands. Then he went to the door, opened it and addressed the guard standing outside.
"We are ready now" he said. "Fetch the Knight Commander."
Knight Commander Duncan looked at the scroll in front of him with deep concentration, resolutely avoiding looking at the Matchmaker. He had met Kallian many times before, but her mere presence still had the ability to make him feel uncomfortable - and ashamed.
He remembered the chamber of horrors every time he looked at her: remembered the rack, the nude elf woman with her empty eyes. Meredith standing over her with the brand of tranquillity in her hands, a look of cruel triumph on her face. They had overpowered her, of course, led her away in chains. She had been screaming and ranting about how mages needed to be controlled, how their power was dangerous. But when Duncan looked at Kallian all he saw was the ruin of a bright, talented young woman. The danger had been the templar. And none of them had seen it.
He remembered Kallian before. She had been powerful, extremely so, trained on Skyhold. He still didn't know why she had been sent to Kirkwall, but it was there she had been bonded to Meredith. He wondered now, how soon after the bonding the abuse had started. He knew she had been quiet and kept to herself, but how much of that had been her own nature and how much had been Meredith? He couldn't answer. All he knew was that he had failed Kallian. They all had.
The process of working through the list of possible templars was the same no matter which compound they visited: the commander read a name from their list, and Kallian replied with a circle they should be placed at. If so was the case, she would also name a mage suitable for bonding with them. This information would be announced at next morning's assembly and within the week the templars that had been stationed would be on their way. The matchmaker herself would usually stay on for a week or two longer, to rest from her constant travelling. Then she would leave for a circle, to examine the unbonded mages living there. It was an easy system, and it worked well for everyone involved. The downfall was the matchmaker herself. In all the known world, there was only one with her ability. Only ever the one, and therefore she had to be constantly guarded.
Duncan looked at his list, drew a deep breath and read out the first name, picking up the quill as he did so.
"Alistair."
It did not take long before Kallian's toneless voice gave him an answer.
That night, Knight Commander Duncan read out the assignments for the templars Kallian had deemed ready to graduate from their apprenticeship, and had added "to be bonded" to a few of them. The chosen ones looked at each other in a mixture of nerves and trepidation, but Anna sat quiet, a frown marring her face. What could the commander possibly have meant with "Anna Hawke, come speak to me after dinner"? Caelan Hawke, twin brother of Anna, put his arm around his sister and affectionately pulled at her hair. They did not particularly look like twins, the brother and sister Hawke. Alright so they were both tall, but she was golden and he was dark. She had blonde, curly hair but his was straight and brown. Her eyes were blue as the sky, his were dark brown like fresh dirt. But they had the same sense of humour and the same way to turn everything into a joke and never take anything seriously. They laughed the same and smiled the same, sang the same silly songs and finished the majority of each other's sentences.
"Don't worry" He said cheerfully and yanked at her braid, making her retaliate immediately by kicking him on the shin as hard as she could. He just laughed.
"I'm sure it'll be fine." Aveline, who sat directly opposite her, gave Anna an encouraging smile.
"You'll be fine, Hawke. Don't worry, eat your dinner. It will work out."
"I sure hope so" Anna murmured, picking at her plate. She was usually quite fond of food, and if it wasn't for her rigorous exercising - and preference for the heavy two-handed blade - she would probably have been rather pudgy by now. But tonight she had no appetite whatsoever, and only had seconds twice. Once she had left the hall to go speak to the Knight Commander, Alistair, who was tall and blonde and reminded everyone of a cute and cuddly but not particularly intelligent puppy, turned to Caelan and Aveline with a worried expression on his face.
"What's wrong with Anna?" He asked. "She barely touched her food!"
"I don't know." Caelan shrugged helplessly.
Anna stood outside the Knight Commander's office and tried to get her knees to stop shaking, but it was no use. They felt about as sturdy as a single strand of grass, and really she just wanted to turn tail and run like a complete coward. Unfortunately, just as she was getting ready to make a truly impressive imitation of a rabbit the door opened and she found herself face to face with Duncan.
Duncan had to smile at the look on the girl's face: she looked like a deer faced with a hunter. Like she didn't know whether to wet herself, cry, or run, but was seriously considering doing all three at the same time. He took pity on the poor thing and gestured at her to enter. She did so slowly, clearly nervous. Finally she sat in his guest chair, but at the very edge of it as if ensuring that she would be quick on her feet should the need arise. He waited until she stopped looking like she was about to throw up.
"You are not in trouble, Hawke" he said, but it was clear from her facial expression that she didn't believe him.
"You are in my office because when your name was mentioned to the Matchmaker she did not simply give a location and the name of your mage, Anna. She spoke a riddle, a prophecy if you will. And therefore, you are to be given a quest." He looked down at the sheet of parchment that laid before him, cleared his throat and read:
Deep in the north a jewel in snow,
A golden cage encased in stone.
Where wolf and bird will come to know
The calling deep within their bones.
Warrior dance upon golden sand,
Power and wisdom will test their hearts
Stay wary of the outstretched hand,
Three times a victor, 'ere forever part.
Wander close and journey far,
To the stone upon the lake.
Putting faith in a distant star,
Love and hope and faith will wait.
Journey through eternal darkness,
Faces she unnameable foes
Prove her wit and prove her prowess,
And follow wherever he goes.
Her soul a-brightly burning
As golden as the dawn
The silken glove a-spurning,
Although the path is long.
With her sword bright burning,
Deep in the deepest night,
From beyond returning
To dare a dragon's might.
For love of one who, hand outstretched,
All alone must stand
Hope so frail and soul so wretched,
Heart in scar-marked hand.
Anna blinked in confusion.
"I got about half of that" she said.
"Well" Duncan said, "That's the usual way with prophecies. They make no sense whatsoever until they've occurred, and then you kick yourself for being an idiot and not figuring it out sooner." He shrugged. "I will give you a copy, so you can take it with you. The matchmaker also said that you are to travel to the Northern City which glimmers like jewels, and there you will find the White Wolf of the North. He needs your help and he is your mage." Anna frowned.
"Who names their kid White Wolf?" she asked. "And which bloody Northern City? In case you haven't noticed, half of Thedas counts as North!" Duncan smiled at the blonde woman's outburst. Typical Anna.
"I have no idea who names their child White Wolf" he said, "but I do know where the Northern City which glimmer like jewels is. Tell me Anna, what have you heard of Tevinter?"