This story is a rewritten version of something I wrote a couple years ago. I liked the idea behind it, so I chose to try to salvage it in this way. I hope you enjoy, and leave a review.
Prologue, expositionnnnnn.
Irving had been First Enchanter of the Circle of Magi for many, many years. For almost as long as Greagoir had been Knight-Commander; around twenty years, now. He'd been the witness of almost every single mage child to enter the Circle. Most often by force.
There were two sorts of mage children brought to the Circle, Irving learned early on. They were the sort that people shunned the moment they'd shown any magical ability, who had nowhere else to turn and genuinely needed protection. These children were often grateful for the home, the instruction, and the protection the Circle offered them. These children were the easier ones to teach, as those who wished to be there were eager to learn.
Then, there were the children who were taken by force. Particularly with families who were better off, those who had money. Noble families especially.
Noble families didn't often have children with magical talent, but when they did, it was often ugly.
Daylen Amell was a perfect example of that.
The Amell family was a noble family that was extremely powerful in the Free Marches, and had coin enough to have influence in Ferelden. So when Revka Amell's eldest son - a boy of only six years at the time - was taken by the Circle, there was an uproar.
It was early on in his time as First Enchanter, but he still remembered it well. Irving lost track of the amount of letters Revka and her family wrote to the Circle and to Irving, the amount of coin they offered to pay, the amount of threats he received. Revka begged him to release her son back to him, and Daylen begged him to give him back to his mother.
He was forced to deny them both, as he always had. Though it gave him no pleasure, he was bound by the rules of the Circle. No mage could leave until they'd finished their Harrowing, and even then, it was regulated and controlled by the Chantry.
But when he told the young boy this, he simply wiped his nose, and asked when he could start classes.
Now, Irving would chuckle at the memory. So determined to find his mother again, he wanted to be ready for his Harrowing as soon as he was able. A commendable attitude, most certainly.
Not only did Daylen have the will, but he showed a remarkable mind for magic, particularly for one so young. He excelled in all classes except healing, and that was a class most mages did not take anyway.
Without it being his intention, Daylen quickly became the best apprentice of his age.
At least he was until a young elf arrived in the Circle, two years after Daylen.
A sickly, scrawny child taken from the Alienage of Denerim, barely able to speak and clearly fearful of humans. Avina Surana's arrival was one Irving remembered, and would always remember; after her mother's death, the child had attacked those who had attempted to retrieve her body. She refused to speak to him until they offered her a bowl of hot soup and a small set of blue robes. Only then did she say 'thank you', but even then she didn't give her name or speak to the other children. She only spoke to Irving, Greagoir, and Wynne. Those who were older, and had shown her kindness.
Somehow, though, despite this, within two weeks she was not only catching up to the other students, but overtaking them in classes like Creation and Spirit. Though the two students never interacted - Daylen was a charming, extroverted boy while Avina feared humans - their academic rivalry was known throughout the Circle.
Irving considered it very lucky to have such bright students studying under him. He hoped this was a good sign; perhaps if these two did great things, it would encourage other young mages to follow their example.
Fear still ran rampant in Ferelden regarding magic. Often it was hated and scorned because of nothing more than ignorance. Ignorance could only be changed by example, by teaching, by showing that not only were mages people, but they were just as much soldiers and protectors and healers as any without magic.
Years went on, and just as it became Irving's fifteenth year as First Enchanter, Daylen underwent his Harrowing at age 17. And passed with flying colors.
Unfortunately, he wasn't able to visit his mother. She had gone missing, leaving her children and husband behind to simply vanish from her heartbreak. He supposed it was easier now for Daylen; he hadn't seen her in many years, but it was still hard on a young man who'd wanted nothing more than to see his mother again for the past twelve years.
Still, he was a fine member of the Circle. A helpful and kind boy, proven to be a trustworthy mentor and teacher. Still, Avina avoided him as she did almost every other student.
That is, apart from Jowan.
Though Jowan had come to the Circle sooner and was older than her by a few years, the two were nearly inseparable, especially in their teenage years. This was made simpler by the fact that Avina kept up with his classes, despite being younger.
It was good that she was at least connecting with someone around her age, even if it was just one student. Even if that one student was Jowan, who Irving could already tell was jealous and hard on himself when it came to other, more advanced students. Students like Avina.
It only took another five years for her to become ready for her Harrowing, at age eighteen.
The very night before the Commander of the Grey, Duncan, arrived at the Circle Tower looking for recruits.
Irving had never been more prepared for a visit from the Grey Wardens. Duncan required mages, and this was a perfect opportunity for them to prove their worth, put their power to good use.
Duncan reacted with interest when he brought up the few mages that stood out most within the Circle; the younger of the mages, as most of the Senior mages had already gone to Ostagar.
"Daylen Amell, you said, finished his Harrowing five years ago?"
Irving nodded with pride. "Indeed. At the age of seventeen. One of the youngest mages to go through the Harrowing."
"Interesting," Duncan murmured. "I'd like to meet this young man, and perhaps some of the others, if it is no trouble."
"Of course, Duncan," Irving agreed. Perhaps he'd conscript others, truly bolstering the kings army with a more impressive gathering of mages.
"What?" Greagoir cut in. "Many have already gone to Ostagar - Wynne, Uldred, and most of the senior mages! We've committed enough of our own to this war effort-"
"Your own?" Irving gave a disbelieving chuckle. "Since when have you felt such kinship with the mages, Greagoir? Or are you afraid to let the mages out from under Chantry supervision, where they can actually use their Maker-given powers?"
After all, they were not the only ones capable and trustworthy when it came to defending Ferelden. During a Blight, the Grey Wardens needed as many mages as they could get their hands on.
Greagoir's eyes flashed in anger. "How dare you suggest -"
"Gentlemen, please," Duncan interrupted. Irving often forgot how quickly he and Greagoir were slipping into arguments these days… it seemed to be getting worse the whiter their hair became.
Duncan gestured to the door. "Irving, I believe someone is here to see you."
He turned, and there she was.
The years had been kind to the child. She'd grown to be quite beautiful; soft light brown hair, coiled about the back of her head in braids, smattering of freckles over her flawless skin… Though she was still slender and delicate in appearance, a maturity had begun to show itself in her icy blue eyes. She was young, but wise for her years. One could almost tell just from one look at her.
She stopped in the doorway, warily looking between Greagoir and Duncan's unfamiliar face. "... You sent for me, First Enchanter?"
"Ah, yes," Irving agreed, waving her forward. He was pleased she'd arrived during his talk with Duncan; now he had the chance to introduce them. "Our newest sister in the Circle. Come, child."
Duncan raised his eyebrows, slightly interested. "And this is…?"
Irving laid a hand on her shoulder. "Avina Surana. Our finest young healer and spirit specialist."
Greagoir sighed, obviously displeased but unwilling to argue further. "Well, Irving, you're obviously busy. We will discuss this later." And with a polite nod to Duncan and Avina, he left the room.
Irving nodded back before turning his attention back to them. "Now, where was I… oh, yes. This is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens."
Avina stared, almost as if in awe. He couldn't blame her; none of them had ever seen any of the Wardens in person, but the tales of the Wardens of the past were well known even in their secluded tower. "Well met, Duncan."
"You've heard of the war brewing to the south, I expect? Duncan is recruiting mages to join the king's army at Ostagar," he explained. Secretly, he hoped Avina would express interest in this topic. Perhaps encourage Duncan's interest in recruiting her.
"I have." She crossed her arms. "It's said a Blight is coming."
"The darkspawn are invading, and we need all the help we can get," Duncan told her, "especially from the Circle. They have formed into a horde in the Kokari Wilds and threaten to invade north into the valley. I fear if we don't drive them back, it may be another Blight."
"Duncan, you worry the poor girl with talk of Blights and darkspawn. This is a happy day for her."
Duncan met his eyes. "We live in troubled times, my friend."
"We should seize moments of levity, especially in troubled times," Irving responded, then turned his attention back to Avina. "Your Harrowing is behind you, and your phylactery was sent to Denerim. You are officially a mage within the Circle of Magi."
She bowed her head, but he could tell she wasn't pleased by this. "Thank you, First Enchanter."
"I'm sorry," says Duncan, raising an eyebrow. "What is this 'phylactery'?"
"Blood is taken from all apprentices when they first come to the tower and is preserved in special vials," Irving explained. Special vials that would lead the templars to her if she ever fled the Circle.
"So they can be hunted if they turn apostate," Duncan understood.
Hunted, and murdered or dragged back to the Circle in chains.
Irving sighed. "We have few choices. The gift of magic is often looked upon with suspicion and fear. We must prove we are strong enough to handle our power responsibly." He looked to Avina. "You, my dear, have done just this. I present you with your robes, your staff, and a ring bearing the Circle's insignia." He handed her the bundle. "Wear them proudly, for you have earned them."
She said nothing as she accepted the items, glancing from Irving back to Duncan as if she had something she wanted to ask him.
"Before you go, however, while you are in the mages quarters, would you send Daylen Amell to me? We wish to speak to him."
She nodded, and left Irving's office quickly.
Duncan watched her go. "She seems like a bright young girl."
"She is," Irving agreed instantly, "and quite talented, as well. I'm sure she has quite the future ahead of her."
He could hope.
Daylen arrived at his office not long after Avina had left, greeting Duncan and Irving politely as he did.
A young man of 22, Daylen was tall and fair-skinned with thick dark hair that hung loosely over his forehead. He was lean but in good shape; Irving had heard many of the apprentice girls claim he was handsome in their eyes.
"Daylen Amell," Irving introduced him proudly, clapping a hand over his back.
Daylen smiled back at the due praise, reaching out to shake Duncan's hand. "I understand you're recruiting for the Grey Wardens, Ser Duncan."
Duncan chuckled. "Just Duncan, please. But you are correct, I hoped to recruit as many mages as are capable and willing."
Daylen nodded. "I would be honored to be given the chance to fight for Ferelden."
"Irving tells me your skills would be invaluable to me. If he believes your skills are sufficient, I will be glad to have you join us, should you choose to."
"I'll prepare, then," Daylen told him. "I won't be long."
"Take your time, Daylen. I had one more thing I wished to look into while I was here."