A Bird Came Flying, a dragon age fanfic

A Bird Came Flying – Chapter 1: Prelude

Author's Note: Chapter one involves what happened to Cullen and Solona just before the Tower and how they came to go there (at different points in time) and the story will go on from there. It will include major parts of the Origins storyline but won't be retellings of the events.

This is my first fanfiction (as well as creative writing) in well over six years and I hope you guys will enjoy it! 'A Bird Came Flying' is the title of a harp piece by Anne Vanschothorst. It's pretty awesome and if you're interested you should listen to it.

Thanks to my beta reader Agth!

Disclaimer: Dragon Age characters, plots, places et al other things in its world is owned by Bioware. I am just a fan girl who's procrastinating from studying for her finals.

Solona – age 4

A mother will always love her child no matter what. It is an unwritten rule, a personal duty for them to do what they can to ensure their child's safety by protecting them from all sorts of demons that threaten their livelihood.

There are however, demons that a mother cannot guard their children against and a time when a mother's protection is lax; real demons of rage, of sloth, hunger, desire and pride – the demons that slip into the minds of young, untrained mages. Preying on them; whispering sweet thoughts. After all, a child's mind was easier to break, easier to entice and easier to mould.

In normal circumstances, one would see it as a dark thought, to wish that what had occurred was just a normal house fire. It would have been less difficult, less messy and – most definitely – less heartbreaking.

Revka Amell stood in the doorway, her body suspended by an unknown force. Her skin prickled, her body trembled in shock at what she saw in her daughter's room. Maker… no…anything but this. She thought, wishing this was just a dream, a nightmare that she would wake up from – it wasn't.

Solona Amell stood before a mirror engulfed in flames, her eyes void of emotion as she stared into the glass, mesmerised by the reflection. It was a beast, a monster with a dark purple body formed by gnarled thorned muscles. Its spider-like eyes glinted with desire, pride and want as it raised its claws and reached for her daughter, whispering.

"…Come, reach into the mirror…" it coaxed with a voice reverberating with raw and terrifying power. Revka could feel the dark energy seeping from the cracks in the mirror, its tendrils poisonous and curling around Solona as if ready and waiting to strike.

Revka felt her heart being clenched in terror as she saw, to her horror, Solona – her daughter – nod slowly and edge closer to the mirror. "Yes…come closer…" She had raised her hand, the glass less than an inch away from her fingertips.

"No! Solona!"

Revka wrenched her body away, rushing towards Solona and pulling her away from the mirror. She clutched her daughter tightly and wrapped her arms around her, shielding her eyes from the mirror. She wasn't going to let this happen, no matter what this would do to her. She had to get Solona out of here.

Realising that his prey was out of reach, the demon flailed violently, letting out a thunderous roar. "You really think you can escape me – a demon of Pride?" It laughed.

The flames on the mirror's frame turned black and burst with a terrifying intensity as the doors and windows slammed shut. The Pride demon let out another roar.

The room trembled and Revka suddenly heard a cracking sound above her. Looking up, she paled. The ceiling was about to give way, and by the looks of the fire now surrounding them – if that didn't kill them – the smoke and flames would. The demon laughed once more as it saw the two of them. "And now you die, human." It said, unable to hide the malice and revenge in its voice any longer.

There was another sickening crack. Dust and debris began to fall and smoke began to clog Revka's lungs. She coughed, still holding her daughter tight in her arms and covered her nose in an attempt to stop her from suffocating.

And without warning, the ceiling gave way.

There was a scream and then, darkness.

She didn't know how long she was unconscious for. With blurry eyes and with a dried throat, realised she was alive. Confused, Revka sat up, wincing as her body throbbed with pain.

"S-Solana?" She croaked and looked over at the little girl slumped in the centre of what was a room.

Solona looked at her hands, confused. Upon hearing her name, she turned to her mother. "Mama…I…I brokened it," she said. "I brokened it with my hands…"

Ignoring the pain, Revka scrambled up to her feet, pulling her daughter towards her as she wept, relieved that they were both alive. She kissed the top of her daughter's head.

"Oh, thank the Maker! It's okay, baby…Don't worry…It's okay…You're safe…" She said, stroking her hair as she felt her daughter tremble in arms. Still, she knew that this wouldn't be the end of it all.

As the boardwalk lifted and the ship set sail, the young girl took one last look at her mother. It seemed that the only thing holding her up and keeping her together was her father. She felt her chest tighten and her eyes began to sting. Turning away, Solona focused her attention on the ship's mast.

"Where am I going?" She asked the Templar, not daring to look him in the eye.

"To Ferelden."

Cullen – age 16

A hand suddenly pulled him back against the wall. He let out a small 'ooft' before the man smirked, humour in his voice as he grinned. "Cullen, I always knew you were the domina-"

A hand covered his mouth.

"You know, Anders, maybe this is why you're always getting caught?" he whispered, peering out from the shadows.

Maker, if it wasn't for the fact that he owed this man for healing his sister, he wouldn't be doing this right now. Cullen half-expected bolts of lightning to strike him down for helping this apostate escape.

"Chantry 101, Cullen. They have my phylactery." He whispered back as he pulled down his hand, tensing slightly. There were cries: shouts for drawn swords, to strike down a 'maleficar'.

"Besides, I'm the least of their worries." He added with a serious tone, sensing the magic rip into the air in a venomous manner. This mage wasn't using magic he was familiar will, which only meant one thing... "They've got themselves a maleficar."

A storm of fire suddenly burst from nothingness. There were scream of terror that chilled Cullen to his core. "Y-You…aren't you going to help?"

"If you haven't realised already, there's Templars over there…and I'm a mage – an 'apostate' for Andraste's sake. They'll probably think I'm with the maleficar!" Anders said as he dusted himself off and looked for his pack. "I've got to get out of here and use this Maker – given decoy to my advantage. See you later, Cullen."

Anders turned and took a few steps before he heard a cry of irritation behind him.

"Fine. If you don't help them than I will." Cullen said firmly.

He didn't know how he could help, but he had to. This was his village, his family and friends, his home. He had to try to protect it.

"Oh that's a great idea, let's just rush into the f-" He began to say, but the boy had already run off. "Argh! Andraste's knicker-weasels!"

Irritated, he took his staff and rushed to the battle. Boy, he knew he was going to regret this.

The village centre had turned into a battleground. Civilians and Templars unconscious, some lay dead scattered on the ground, some unconscious and the rest witnessing the terrors of the powerful maleficar. Cullen lay on the ground, having been hit with a force that sent him crashing into the wall of a house. The maleficar grinned, a glint in his eyes as he raised his staff, shielding himself from another blow of a standing Templar. It took a simple look from the mage to send that Templar flying.

Before the maleficar could do any more, lightning suddenly exploded in the distance, wisps at first that twisted and turned, forming a great beam that crashed against the maleficar's arcane shield. The two opposing powers caused an explosion that blasted away those within range.

Anders stood his ground and pointed his at his opposition, focusing. Spinning his staff again, he set forth a flurry of fireballs. Quickly, the maleficar swung his stuff in a horizontal motion, creating a piercing wall of ice that shook and trembled as it took the blunt of the damage.

Spells were tossed back and forth – of primal, elemental and spirit – as the two mages fought. The Templars scattered: half of them gathering civilians and leading them to safety, the other half joining forces with Anders in an attempt to overpower the mage.

However the maleficar's mana pool was far larger, and far stronger than Anders had expected. Where in Maker's name this guy came from, Anders didn't know. But what he did know was that he did some serious dabbling in ancient arcane arts. He would frequently hear him mutter the words of the Tevinter and unleash horrors far greater than any entropy mage he had come across.

Sensing his mana nearing its end, Anders' hand slid to his pockets in hope of finding a lyrium potion. Feeling nothing, he cursed as he glanced at the exhausted Templars. There was another crack of lightning, and he whipped his head around – a bolt fired straight at him.

But before it hit him, the lightning began to dissipate and fizzle out, draining of power just before it hit him. Anders blinked, confused at first before he saw the maleficar choking on blood, a blade piercing right through him.

Whether it was luck or skill, he didn't know. He stood – amazed – as the maleficar slumped to the ground dead, revealing his killer. Anders couldn't help but laugh as he headed towards the boy and the body.

Cullen's shaking hands slipped off the sword, and his eyes were still fixed on the dead maleficar.

He fell backwards. He couldn't believe it. He did it.

"You my friend, are both incredibly stupid and incredibly lucky." Anders said as he offered his hand and lifted the man up. "I can't believe you did that!"

He cried out in shock. "You! The village farm boy!"

The mage's laughter however was cut short, and he suddenly fell to the ground with a groan.

"Anders!" Cullen turned, about to help the man up when he felt a blade's tip at the back of his neck.

"Step away from the apostate, boy."

A firm female voice came from behind him. Cullen gulped; raising his hands as he slowly turned and stepped back. Oh Maker, he was in for it.

"Lovely to see you again, Rylock," Anders wheezed as she and another Templar picked him up by the arms and took his staff.

Rylock narrowed her eyes, glaring at the apostate.

"Quiet, apostate," She growled at him before turning to her superior. "Ser Lucas, what shall we do now?"

An older Templar walked forward.

"Half of the men stay and help with collateral damage and civilians, the other, including you Ser Rylock are coming with me to take this apostate back to the Circle." He ordered.

The Templars nodded and once again split up to do their duties. Ser Lucas then turned to Cullen, eyeing him for a moment and smiling.

"And you boy. You're coming with us."

"W-what for?" He asked, slightly nervous.

Ser Lucas smiled again. "We're going to make you a Templar."

Author's Note: If any of you are confused, I decided to make Cullen go into the Templar training at a later age because he seems to have a fairly relaxed personality in comparison to the other Templars – I do know that there are such things as nice Templars – but the shock and rapid curve of 'we're a bit harsh on mages-OH MY GOD KILL ALL THE MAGES' was pretty intense. I'll develop this idea further in later chapters.

And so this chapter comes to an end, thanks for reading and read and review!