Trevelyan Estate, Ostwick
13 Guardian, 9:23 Dragon
"Ethan! Ethan! Guess what!" A young girl raced through sun-washed halls to catch her adolescent brother, half-tamed mahogany hair streaming behind her. A beleaguered woman, the energetic child's nurse, ran behind.
"Miss Seren, come back here! We must finish your braids!" Maeve blew a red lock of hair out of her eyes as she pursued her youngest charge.
"Ethan!" Seren, youngest child to Bann Emrys and Lady Catriona Trevelyan, ignored her nurse's calls. "You have to guess!"
Ethan, a lanky boy of thirteen years, stopped and rolled his eyes. "What, 'Ren?!" He turned his pout, which he thought was a formidable frown, on his youngest sister. Unsurprisingly, she was unfazed.
"Guess what I did!" Seren's eight year old hands grasped one of her brother's larger ones. She tugged until she was angled away from his body balanced on her heels, Ethan's weight acting as a counter to gravity's pull. "Come with me! I did it last night, and it still works!"
Maeve caught up to the two and reached out to unwind the younger child's fingers from the eldest's hand. "Miss Seren, we must get you ready for your Aunt Lucille's visit."
Brown eyes with a hint of green in the center gazed imploringly at the woman. "Pleeeease?! I want to show Ethan how I fixed Mother's favorite birdhouse in the garden."
"What did you do, 'Ren?" Voice cracking at the thought of his younger sister in their mother's garden unsupervised, the teen looked at Maeve in concern. He looked back to his sister. "If you drove off the finches, Mother will not be pleased."
"I made the birdhouse better. Please come see!" Seren turned to her nurse. "I promise I'll go back and sit quietly as soon as Ethan looks." Her lower lip pushed out slightly in a trembling pout.
Maeve looked between the two siblings. "Very well. We'll go see how you made the birdhouse better, then we'll go back to your room and finish your hair while Master Ethan continues his day." A stern expression settled over her face. "I will hold you to your promise of returning immediately and sitting quietly."
"Yes, Maeve." The child's bright grin lit answering smiles from her nurse and brother. "Quickly, you have to see!" With another sharp tug, Seren dragged Ethan to the gardens while Maeve trailed behind.
In The Garden...
The young girl danced in the sunlight filtering through the shade trees of the family's inner courtyard-cum-garden. Her brother and nurse watched indulgently as she made her haphazard way to the lowest hanging birdhouse painted in dark green and bright yellow. "Look!" Seren stage-whispered and waved the two over. "You have to be closer so you'll be able to feel it."
Ethan strode to where his sister stood peering in at the new hatchlings. He allowed her to take his hands and cup them beneath the bottom of the birdhouse. Green-hazel eyes widened in shock as he jerked his hands away from the gentle warmth radiating from their mother's favorite birdhouse into his fingers. He whispered frantically so as not to startle the small birds inside, "'Ren! What did you do?"
Seren's confused eyes met Ethan's. "I made it so the new babies wouldn't be cold. You can see them if you look close." Maeve bustled forward as Seren finished speaking.
"You promised you'd return to your room so we can finish getting you ready for your Aunt Lucille's visit." Maeve reached for the youngest Trevelyan's hand. "Master Ethan's looked at your improved birdhouse. Come along, my dear. We're running out of time."
"Wait, Maeve. You have to feel, too." Seren pulled her nurse's hand under the birdhouse so she could feel the warmth rolling off the bottom. "The babies won't die from the cold, now." The girl smiled at her nurse.
Maeve's sky blue eyes widened. She shot a look at the dumbstruck Trevelyan heir before looking back at her charge. Smiling tremulously, she said, "Yes, Miss Seren. That is an improvement." The nurse pulled the eight year old to her. "It's time we got you ready. We'll leave your brother to speak with your parents about this, alright."
"Alright." Seren turned serious brown eyes on her brother. "Please tell Mother the finches like it better when it's warm."
Ethan blinked at her, eyes shining brightly. "Uh, I will, 'Ren." As she turned away to follow Maeve, he rushed forward and hugged his baby sister with all he had, then dashed away.
"Come, Miss Seren. We have to get you ready." Maeve surreptitiously wiped tears from her eyes as she walked the youngest of the Trevelyan brood to her room for the last time.
Unknowing of the changes awaiting her and her family, Seren Trevelyan, newly discovered mage child, chattered about what she would do during her Aunt Lucille's visit this year.
Near Midday...
"But I don't want to go, Papa." Seren's face crumpled as she fought tears.
Bann Emrys sat his youngest child on his lap. He'd called her to his study as soon as he and his wife returned from the gardens where Ethan showed them Seren's birdhouse 'improvement.'
"Listen to me, Poppet." He cuddled her close. "We all owe our lives, and our gifts, to the Maker. Yes?" She nodded and sniffled. "Your Maker-given gift is magic, Seren. That makes you special."
"I don't want magic if I have to leave!" Seren squirmed in an effort to drop from her father's lap. He tightened his hold as he looked to his wife for help.
Lady Catriona dropped to her knees in front of her husband and youngest daughter. Her calm voice flowed over them both, "My little 'Ren. We are all called to serve the Maker and His children in different ways." She reached out a plump hand and smoothed her daughter's hair from her face, drawing Seren's attention. "Ethan is called to serve as your father's heir, to take care of the people who depend on House Trevelyan for support and succor." She waited for the child's nod. "Your sister, Aerona, will serve as a Templar when she's old enough." Lady Trevelyan was rewarded with another silent nod. "Bronwyn, your twin, will serve as a Sister of the Chantry when she's old enough, and perhaps as a Revered Mother if she serves the people of Thedas well." A more sullen nod followed this statement. "And you will serve as a mage of the Circle…."
Seren interrupted her mother with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. "Me and 'Wyn are supposed to be together!" Her voice took a shrill edge as Seren's brave front collapsed beneath her fear. "Why do I have to leave?" Her voice rose with each panicked breath. "No one else has to leave. Only me!"
"Seren!" Bann Emrys' stern voice cut Seren off and stilled her struggles. Before the Bann or his wife could think of a way to comfort her, a knock sounded at the study door. Handing his daughter to his wife, he stood and answered it. On the other side stood his Aunt Lucille—still intimidatingly unbowed at sixty years. The Trevelyan matriarch took in the familial tableau in a single glance.
"Let me speak with the child." Lady Lucille Trevelyan held her hand out to her youngest great-niece who reluctantly walked from her mother's arms. "Come, Little 'Ren. It's time we talked, you and I." The elder's hand wrapped around the child's with a gentle firmness as she led the girl back out to the gardens.
They stopped in the midday sun streaming through the carefully sculpted shade canopy. "Show me this improved birdhouse, Little 'Ren." The quietly encouraging words gave Seren the courage to look up from her toes.
"I only wanted to keep the babies warm." Tears coursed down the distraught child's cheeks. "Why is that bad?"
Lady Lucille stared at Seren with piercing gray eyes. Taking a deep breath, she answered, "It's not, Little 'Ren."
"Then why…"
"Show me this improved birdhouse. Then we'll speak."
Seren drew the older woman to the birdhouse and cupped their combined hands under the bottom so they both felt the warmth. After a few moments of contemplation, Lady Lucille withdrew their hands and led the eight year old to a bench.
"Do you know your Chant of Light by heart, Little 'Ren?" Lady Lucille focused her gaze on the far side of the courtyard.
"Not all of it." The mutter was barely audible over the breeze moving through the trees and the birdsong encouraged by the various birdhouses and feeders in the garden.
A barely there smile tipped the matriarch's lips before she sobered and asked her next question. "Do you know the first line of Transfigurations 1:2?"
"'Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.'" Seren sunk in on herself. "That's why I have to leave, isn't it?"
"Do you know the rest of it, child?"
Seren gave the question serious thought. "No."
"That's understandable. Revered Mother Genevieve served in Kirkwall during that Amell debacle just before you were born." Lady Lucille grumbled to herself, "That line always was that woman's favorite bludgeon."
"Aunt?" Seren's natural curiosity was piqued by the older woman's grumblings.
"Nothing you need worry about yet, Little 'Ren. I want you to listen carefully to the whole verse." Lady Lucille took a deep breath and sang the entirety of it.
Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.
Foul and corrupt are they
Who have taken His gift
And turned it against His children.
They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones.
They shall find no rest in this world
Or beyond.
"What does this verse say the Maker will punish mages for?" Lady Lucille held Seren's gaze.
"For using magic to hurt?"
The old woman raised an eyebrow in query. "Did you use magic to harm anyone or anything?"
"No." Seren's nose scrunched in disgust.
"Magic is a tool, Little 'Ren." Lady Lucille gathered the frightened girl close. "It's how you use that tool that determines if you are Maleficar, not that you have access to it."
"Then why do I have to leave?" Seren's plaintive wail tugged at her Great Aunt's heartstrings.
"Because, child, we cannot teach you here. Nor can we protect you." Lady Lucille pulled back enough to catch Seren's gaze again. "You've had dreams, haven't you? Vivid ones? Perhaps frightening. Perhaps not." Seren nodded. "Magic always follows these dreams." The older woman felt every day of her sixty-plus years. "We cannot protect you from what lingers in dreams, Little 'Ren. That's the Templars' job."
"So I have to go to the Circle because that's where the Templars are?" Seren waxed sullen again.
"Yes."
"Can I come home again when 'Rona becomes a Templar?" Lady Lucille met the girl's eyes.
"No, Little 'Ren. Aerona will be stationed elsewhere." She hugged the girl tightly to her again. "Come, we must pack. Ostwick Circle's Templars will be here soon, and we don't want to keep them waiting."
"Will I ever be able to come home again?" Lady Lucille had to strain to hear the question.
"Of course, provided you study hard, behave, and do well. Remember, you are a Trevelyan, Little 'Ren. Be modest in temper, and bold in deed."
Seren looked to her Aunt in confusion pulling a chuckle from the older woman.
"Simply put, Little 'Ren, use your head and follow your heart." Lady Lucille stood and grasped her great niece's hand to lead her back to her parents. "Let your actions speak for you. And remember what you do reflects on all of us." She gave the despondent child's hand a squeeze. "I have no doubt you'll do us proud."
Late Afternoon...
As the gathered Trevelyan family watched two Templars escort the youngest of them to the Circle, they all recited the following line from Threnodies 12:5-
All that the Maker has wrought is in His hand
Beloved and precious to Him.