Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Dragon Age
Tore down an old star wars story. And I'm putting up a new one. This time its not Dragon Age characters just dropped into the Star Wars sagas. Thedas is a planet that exists within the universe of Star Wars.
Its an original/mixed timeline with characters from various eras of the Star Wars mythos and legends, but some clarification, timeline wise this takes place after Knights of the Old Republic 2. The focus of this story, is on the Sith empire and where they are currently. 22/12: edited some of the chapters for the next direction I'm taking the story.
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away
The Sith Triumvirate is dead, order is restored to the republic. Meetra Surik has begun the long task of rebuilding the order and its ties with the republic, broken after the previous council's failed attempt to redeem Revan.
To avoid disaster, Supreme Chancellor Valorum has dismissed Revan as a false Sith and declared the Sith empire extinct and no longer a threat. The Jedi have also retreated to Typhon, birth place of the Jedi, to train a new generation of Jedi knights.
Unbeknownst to both the republic and the Jedi, the true Sith empire is laying conquest to an unknown region world, helpless, and ignorant of the sheer size of the galaxy...
Space was beautiful and dangerous. Each star, represented a distant world, just waiting to be explored. But within those stars were different types of conflict. Wars that in some systems had been fought for thousands of years, the wars of the rich against the down trodden, the majorities against the minorities, and even wars thought of as fairy tales. The war between the dark side and the light. Two sides that the young men and women were just beginning to learn of.
Space walking was common, the children and teens all stood on a planetoid within the Typhon system. In the far distance, drilling machine worked to mine minerals. Within their bulky space suits, the children looked through their glass visors at the wonder of the stars. For many it was their first time not having the layers of alloys a star ship offered. They were vulnerable, but their young minds thought of only the wonder of adventure.
A wonder that was shattered as the boys and girls of different races, humanoid and alien, looked towards their teacher. She wore the same red space suit they wore, except her belt, as well as having the same space oxygen packs and tow cable roll they had, also had a device strapped to it. The hilt of a weapon that was the signature of her order, and order that the brown haired, middle aged woman was training the young ones to be a part of.
"Now students, can anyone tell me what the force is?" she asked.
One of the human boys raised his hand.
"It's a power that allows Jedi to control minds and move objects without touching them," he said.
The woman shook her head.
"I'd like to establish whilst you will be using the force to move things, that is not what it is. The force is not a power, the force is...well the force, the force that binds all things together. I want all of you to close your eyes and breathe, open your minds, lower your defences and you'll be able to feel it. The force, it binds everything together, guides us," she explained.
"All I see is still a power for moving rocks," one of the students said, grinning as the others laughed.
Meetra Surik shook her head as the students laughed. She was about to lecture them again when she felt something, a disturbance in the force. Looking up at the stars, she saw something, a ship just exiting hyper space. It wasn't any design she was familiar with. Meetra closed her eyes and listened with the force. She widened her eyes in total horror, feeling something she hoped she would never feel again.
"What has happened to you?" she asked.
Dragon Wars: Rebellion
Episode 1: Beginning a dream
Ferelden ended one tyrannical rule, and freed itself, only to once again be conquered by another. The difference between the Orlesian occupation, and the occupation that came afterwards, is that everything changed. Thedas, our continent, our world, it isn't what it used to be. Our world has become a small part of a grand galaxy, a word no one on our planet (consequently a word people also didn't know before) knew until the sky opened. It wasn't a rift, but the clouds parting, it wasn't magic, but something no one knew of before, technology, a star ship.
The routine was simple, get up, go to Orzammar, dig for lyrium, drop it in and pick up the ration pack for the month. There would be no trouble if he didn't make any, everything would be fine. The elf man felt delicate fingers on his bald head and smiled, turning to his wife, also an elf, more beautiful than any he had seen before.
"Fen wanted to go with you today," Lanaya said.
"He shouldn't go down there, his place is up here, it's bad enough one of us has to go down there," he said.
"Hey," a strong look crossed Lanaya's face.
She pushed her finger against his cheek, turning his eyes to hers, so that he could see her stern look. The look alone was an order, one she always hoped she didn't have to speak. He forced a smile on his face and kissed her, hoping the moment would last longer. But it did end, and he left their family home to go the mines. Where once a grand dwarven city stood, was now a simple mine, the buildings and bridges were broken down, to make way for grand machines. But none of the workers would use them, they were the ones who did the hand work, who picked up the precious little rocks called lyrium. It was the primary reason for the planet wide occupation.
The elf man looked up at the sky, and saw what every person on Thedas saw. In the sky, the grand metallic ships that flew despite their weight, and beyond the sky itself, even grander metal constructs. He walked amongst dwarves, elves, humans and even Qunari, for none were spared from the iron grip of the empire. After a hard day's work, he emerged from the mines dirty, and breathed in the natural air. He walked up to the desk, where an officer took what the miners collected. The human man was dressed in the kind of clothes no one on the planet would have considered fashionable, it was grey and simply shaped, but the bars on his shoulder represented a rank and were as great a symbol of power now as any crown or cross used to be.
"An agreeable find, one quarter portion," he said, taking the lyrium stones one miner found, and given him a meagre amount of food.
"But, last week, that much was worth half rations," the human protested.
The elf man lowered his head slightly, recognising the subtle narrowing of the officer's eyes. It was enough of a warning for the human to take the rations and go, without further complaint. No one complained in the empire, no one debated. But above all, everyone served the empire.
"You missed your quota for the fourth month running," the officer told the elf man ahead of him.
"My mother was sick, she needed someone to look after her, please sir, just give me another chance, I can catch up," the miner was just a boy, and he sounded so desperate.
"I've given you ample enough time already boy, if your mother was that sick, you should have just let her die, now we won't have the right amount of lyrium to ship off world, which means I won't get the credits I need to pay for the right amount of food this month. Which also means I have to make an example," the officer explained.
"NO! PLEASE SIR LET ME TRY! GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE PLEASE!" the boy yelled.
The officer simply waved his hand, and the armoured men behind him moved forward. They took hold of the boy's arms and began to drag him away, ignoring his screams. None tried to help him, because all feared the white and black armoured men. All feared the troopers that brought the storm of the empire's judgement. The elf man lowered his head and sighed.
'This is not how things should be,' he thought.
The empire, that's what we know them as. Their occupation of our world was easy. We were a planet of divided nations, stuck in ancient and unproductive ways of thinking, archaic beliefs in god and our origins. They on the other hand were a united empire, stern, evolved in their methods, led by a singular belief to expand that overshadowed any individual's personal beliefs. That and military, they hilariously outmatched us, the sword was useless against the hull of their super weapons, weapons that could shatter castles in a single shot.
Within a year, our entire planet was theirs, and surrender became the only option. To salvage our culture, or perhaps to keep what they perceived as power, the ruling religion known as the chant of light, altered their canticles. The Maker was still their primary god, but the maker became an aspect of the empire. To prevent rebellion, or perhaps to keep their own power, the chantry made the emperor its god. But there were those within the Chantry who didn't agree with this, thus a splinter faction known as 'the true chant' emerged. It was still following the pro-human canticles from before the empire's rise of course.
But the Chant no longer had as wide an influence as it once did. Some abandoned belief in the maker altogether, either becoming loyal to the empire, or simply tried to get by. My generation only had little knowledge of what came before, the empire's reign became our life, but we weren't necessarily happy with their rule. Some of us did turn to the maker, and some of us began to take on the teachings of the 'true chant'. For some it was a way to privately believe that there was something greater than the empire, than our own lives. Whilst others openly took it as a sign of rebellion, either as a way to stand up to the new masters, or in an attempt to fight the empire.
The true chant is considered a resistance movement by some, hooligans by others, and mild annoyances by most. Their efforts never really amount to anything. Because the empire has enforcers who are much more powerful, and more feared than even the storm troopers.
She was no elf, something even her hood could not conceal from the Dalish Sabrae clan. They still sought out the secrets of their ancient ancestors, but did so in the hope of not just rebuilding their old empire, but bringing down the new one. Keeper Marethari however did not believe simply in the old ways, the present mattered to her more than the past. The older dwarf looked at the guest in her tent, a smile crossing her face as she gave her what her clan had found days ago. To most, it would be a simple triangular trinket, but for the resistance, it was a new hope. The human woman lifted off her hood, to get a better look at the item, revealing her beautiful features and red hair.
"I hope this will put you on the correct path," Marethari said.
"These days, hope is all we have, like 'hopefully' this will lead to something more, or so the divine believes," the young woman said.
"Divine Justinia could not have chosen anyone better than her left hand, Lady Nightingale, I believe wholeheartedly that you will find what the resistance needs," the keeper explained.
"Something that will actually make us a resistance, and please Keeper, call me Leliana!"
Both smiled, but both changed as the warning call came through the camp. A dark haired elf girl came into the tent, desperation written across her face. She was carrying an iron bark staff, marking her as a mage and the Keeper's first.
"Pol saw them with the spyglass, they're coming," she said.
"They've come looking for me," Leliana said.
All three exited the tent, looking out into the night sky, as the other members of the clan prepared for combat. In the distance, they could see the imperial drop ships.
"Merrill, get Leliana a Halla," Marethari commanded.
"When they get here, tell them I threatened you," Leliana said.
"No, we will buy you time," Marethari retorted.
"You're no match for them."
"I know, Merril, see Leliana to her transport!"
Marethari took out her staff, joining the defensive line with her clans hunters. They were still dressed in archaic elf armour, still used bows, but also used stolen blasters and thermal detonators. The imperial drop ships hovered over the ground, opening their hatches, and releasing the contingents of troopers they carried. The Dalish opened fire, bringing down at best a few of the soldiers. But the troopers were more accurate with their blasters, they were natives of the planet, trained, some even indoctrinated by the empire. The Dalish fighters fell in groups, smoke coming out of their blaster wounds.
Calling upon her magic, Marethari bought roots up from the ground, lifting up groups of troopers, suffocating or impaling them. She formed armour of rocks around herself, firing one bolt after another from her staff. Two fell, then three, with five more thrown back by the explosion of a fireball. The Keeper was a truly experienced mage whom had mastered her power. But the pulses of stun blasters struck her armour and barriers, then came the knight-troopers. Formed from defected templars, these troopers were trained in the art of fighting mages and demons. The flaming sword of the templar ordered was embedded on their chest plates, and their helmets were decorated with wings. A single Knight-trooper activated his kite shaped energy shield, blocking Marethari's bolts.
Light shined from his body, the power of a templar. The smite drained Marethari's mana, neutralised her magic, and bought her to her knees. She was as helpless as the non-combatants in her clan. The fighting ended as the surrounded clan surrendered, many of their fighters were dead, and the young and old would die if they continued resisting. Marethari however smiled, they had done their part. That smile faded as she felt the terror emanating from her clan members, they pointed to an imperial shuttle, painted black with imposing wings that folded up as it landed.
Mist rushed out of the hatch as it hissed, and slowly opened. A black clad figure walked off of the hatch, followed by silver armoured, and black cloaked guards carrying staffs. The black clad figure wore robes and armoured plates that were the common styled amongst the empire's most powerful enforcers. His face and race was hidden by the hood and metallic mask he wore, but on his mask were symbols that looked like the facial tattoos of the Sabrae clan.
"You haven't aged a day," the masked man said, his voice slightly distorted by the mask.
"Whilst you are as angry as I remember, which in turn makes me sad, I am sorry for what has become of your life and the choices you have made," Marethari explained, speaking as if she knew the man.
"Once keepers said that of all of them, you were one who was not weighed down by the past, I however see differently, you are as burdened by your past as the rest of them old woman," the man explained.
He walked around the Keeper, and would occasionally look at the other Dalish, looking down at them as if he was their master. But he was certainly the man in control, the troopers stood in a circle, with every man, woman and child of the clan at their mercy. The masked man stopped walking and focused entirely on Marethari.
"You know what I'm looking for, you're going to give it to me," he said.
"I know that you are burdened by the past too, but it is not too late my child, you can still let it go," Marethari said.
The man stopped, tilting his head as if thinking about it. Then, in one fluid motion he removed a Dar'misaan handle from his belt. The elves gasped as a crimson blade extended from the handle, curving like most elf blades did. He swept the blade of light through Marethari, more easily than any blade of steel could.
"You're right, I can let go," the masked man said.
A cry came from the far side of the camp. Raw energy crackled and flew past the troopers, straight towards the masked man. But he turned, raising his hand, the bolt suddenly stopped, still crackling, but frozen as if he had grabbed it. He turned off his sabre and put the handle back on his belt. Then he motioned to where the bolt had come from, to the tearful Merrill. The knight-troopers hit her with a smite and bound her hands with cuffs.
"Take her back to the ship, she'll know where Nightingale is going," the masked man said.
"What about the rest of the clan?" one of the commanders asked.
"Kill them!"
Two simple words, and the troopers did it. The masked man turned away, walking with Merrill and her captors back to the ship. She looked back, seeing her family die. Seeing each trooper shoot their blaster mercilessly at the elves. All but one, a knight-trooper, whose hands shook as he lowered his rifle and cast his head down to the floor.
'What are we doing?' he wondered.
Those who wield red blades of light, known as light sabres, and control a force of energy that matches magic. They are the true rulers of the empire, having more authority and power than even provincial governors. The Sith, they are called, followers of a dark code. Whilst the imperial officers and troopers are considered cruel, some see the Sith as the embodiments of true evil, worse than even demons of the fade. Whilst imperials seek out lyrium, the Sith seek to control another great source of power on our planet, mages.
Once, before they came, the chantry controlled the circle of magi, which sheltered/imprisoned and trained mages. Now, the Sith have primary control of the circles. They possess the authority to take anyone from the circle, for Sith typically followed a rule of two. A master, and an apprentice, every so often a master will choose an apprentice. Many a time, the masters seek apprentices from a circle, like the circle near lake Calenhad.
The circle that has been my home, for many years.
Daylen Amell was leaning on his bo staff, a fresh bruise on his face. Four men in black robes stood around him, all holding bo staves as well. They were at the top of the circle tower near Lake Calenhad. As well as the Harrowing, the top of the tower was used for more aggressive methods of training the mages. To the side of the 'arena' stood the Knight-Commander Greigor, a man who uncomfortably wore the Knight-Trooper armour, minus the helmet. Also standing there was First Enchanter Uldred.
As a more 'open minded' senior mage, the empire made Uldred the new First Enchanter. He took advantage of his new powers, appearing much cleaner than any mage there, his face devoid of bruises. The man wore a purple and black robe, with pieces of armour and black gloves, people often commented that the scales of the armour looked like the hide of a Pride demon. He looked at Daylen with a mix of pride and amusement.
Daylen wore the 'combat training' variant of the circle robes. There was no skirt on it, consisting of blue trousers and a blue shirt with a cloth belt holding it together, he also wore gloves and cloth shoes. The trainers kept on walking around him, trying to get the better of him, and trying to please their master. The spire only had one new addition, a platform for a Sith Lord to watch from.
This Sith Lord was an imposing alien known as a Chagrian. As tall as most Qunari, like most of his species the Chagrian lord had tentacles hanging on his shoulders, with spiked horns on them, and two additional spiked horns on top of his head. He had red skin with ferocious black markings across his face, an a burn scar running diagonally across the bridge of his nose, shaped as if a sword had given it to him, a sabre scar. He wore a black armoured robe, his red hands clicked his fingers, a command for the trainers to continue.
Daylen quickly swung his staff around, blocking a strike from a trainer behind him. He shoved the man back and deflected a second trainer's strike into the third one's staff. Then he managed to strike the fourth trainer across the head.
"One opponent dead, but still three more," the Sith Lord said.
Uldred looked between Daylen and the Sith Lord. He would have preferred to have been in the arena, fighting for the opportunity to be a Sith apprentice. Daylen continued fighting well against the three trainers, using mana to increase the power of his strikes. The method of fighting clearly impressed the Chagrian, who put his hand to his chin and smirked. Daylen ducked, barely avoiding a strike, then jumped back to avoid a second. The third trainer came at Daylen, thrusting his staff like one would a spear. Daylen blocked it again and again, then batted it aside and tapped the man's gut, which was considered a killing stroke.
"He's doing it," Greigor said.
The First enchanter couldn't sense if there was pride, or fear in the man's voice. He'd always had a veiled respect for the part bred mage. People called Daylen part breed (though never cruel enough to his face) because his race and ancestry was difficult to determine. His skin tone and hair suggested Rivaini, or perhaps Tevinter origins, but he was originally from a noble family in the Free marches, some formerly grand city that was now a port state of the empire. Daylen's hair spiked in an unnatural way, he had a body that was muscular but not behemoth like, like the Qunari, and a short height, though still taller than an elf and just as agile. But the young man, though off to a slow start, quickly proved to be a prodigy in most things he put his mind to.
Greigor's fear perhaps stemmed from the teachings of the Sith. It could turn good men cruel, and literally change them. The more a person drew from the dark side, the deeper they immersed themselves in, the more grotesque they could become. They had heard of Sith Lords who appeared to be wrinkled crones, yet be only in their early forties, yet have twice the strength of their juniors. The Knight-Commander wanted Daylen to rise, but not become a Sith Lord. Likewise, Uldred wanted Daylen to succeed, but not if it meant taking what he deserved instead.
The two remaining trainers approached Daylen from both directions, swinging their staves hard against his. His footing buckled slightly, but his grip remained firm. He deflected one strike, then hit the man across the throat. But the second trainer swung his staff against Daylen's leg, bringing him to his knees. He then hit Daylen across the head, giving him an additional bruise. The Sith Lord shook his head in disappointment, before he jumped off of the platform. He landed smoothly on his feet and began to approach Daylen and the trainers.
"Impressive, but not enough, do not fear your anger, draw from it and you will attain a power to destroy your enemies. Do not be afraid to hurt, or even kill your trainers, the galaxy will not allow weakness," the Sith Lord explained.
"Yes Kaius," Daylen said, his voice filled with defiant anger.
The Sith Lord shook his head and raised his hand. With the force, he pulled the staff from Daylen's grip and took it into his own.
"We are done for the day, return to your quarters," the Sith Lord, Darth Kaius said.
Daylen rubbed his arm as he was taken back to his dorm by the Knight-Troopers. On the way, he saw everything that was different about the tower now, armoured troopers patrolling the halls, droids, rebellious mages being collared. A special collar had been produced, that would allow magic to be suppressed. He joined a line of fellow mage students, some dressed in the same gear he was in, others in traditional Ferelden circle robes, whilst a rare few wore Sith robes, proudly signifying that they were candidates for apprenticeship. Of course the candidates got first choice on food, even choosing the portion they could get.
"Damn it, they're going to take all of the sweet potato again, I just know it," a mage student, Liam complained.
"So what? We should be grateful we're getting food at all," said Keili, a brown haired girl.
"Enough you two," Petra, a red haired girl snapped at them.
Daylen remained silent, looking at the line ahead. He saw, and nodded to his friend Jowan. The older mage stepped up to the food servers, thin and tired looking Twi'leks, a common slave race used by the empire. Daylen heard most of the boys in the dorm talk about how beautiful the female Twi'leks were, and even overheard the candidates talk about the 'favours' they got from the slaves. These Twi'leks however were men, and looked as if they had been fed only the bare minimum, some of the apprentices had more meat on their bones than them.
"Thank you," Jowan said to the Twi'lek serving man.
The Twi'lek spouted something in his native language. Daylen read a little bit about it, he could pick up the words 'welcome' and 'along' in the man's words. Most of the aliens spoke the language of Ferelden, described as basic in the wider empire, they just preferred speaking their own language, whilst some species couldn't physically speak the same way others did. The line got shorter and eventually it was Daylen's turn.
"Thank you Kora," he said to the man, in his own language.
The blue skinned Twi'lek seemed taken aback by the respect in Daylen's voice. He put some food on Daylen's plate, and avoided smiling. The aliens were part of the empire before those in Thedas were, yet, they were treated harsher than any human subject. Daylen knew that if he was caught treating the Twi'Lek with kindness, it would be the Twi'lek who would suffer, at least when Darth Kaius left. Kaius was an alien in an anti-alien empire and had been granted a title as important as Darth. It was a testament to the man's connection to the force.
Daylen walked back to his dorm, where several apprentices were avoiding a specific bed. Instead a senior enchantress was at the bedside, treating her patient. Wynn was a good healer, dedicated to what the circle used to be, it didn't make Daylen like her, what he did like about her was her motherly kindness and sass. In the best way that she could, she defied the empire without even fighting. Grinding some herbs into a bowl, she applied a salve to a burn wound on her patient's arm.
"What happened this time?" Daylen asked, crouching beside the patient and Wynn.
"Uldred's students, he was just walking the halls when they saw fit to practice on him," Wynn said.
Daylen placed his hand on the patient's forehead, touching the brand mark on it. There was no emotion in the man's eyes, no exhaustion, no pain. One might call it a blessing that the man felt nothing. Daylen didn't think of it that way, Irving had been the closest thing he had to a father in the circle, a target for Uldred's cruelty since the Sith came to power. Eventually, Uldred found something to condemn Irving for and had him made tranquil.
"Here, I've brought food for you both," Daylen placed his bowl and the roll on the floor.
"You should eat something too," Wynn said.
"I have something underneath my bed," he retorted, walking to his bunk.
He reached underneath the floor boards, looking over a multitude of tools, everything he'd been gathering over the past few days. Then he took a stale slice of bread from underneath his pillow, shoving the contents down his throat. Irving often never got food, and Wynn spent too much time looking after those hurt by Sith cruelty to feed herself.
"Daylen," a voice spoke from behind him.
He turned, smiling as Jowan patted his back.
"Met with Lily yet?" he asked.
Jowan nodded his head, producing a part from his robe.
"She said it wasn't easy to come by," Jowan said.
"I'm sure you found some way to repay her," Daylen said.
"Very funny...but true," Jowan muttered. "What are they anyway?"
"Essentials, are you attending mass tonight?" Daylen asked.
"Yes, hopefully Keili won't be there though," Jowan said.
"Why not, she's usually pretty kind."
"Except now her preaching is getting a little annoying."
It wasn't perfect code, but it was enough to get across a warning. If Keili turned up at mass, then they wouldn't be able to discuss what they really intended on talking about.
"I'm sure I can distract Keili," Daylen said.
Normally he wouldn't be able to stomach being in the chantry. Keili was a devout practitioner of the faith, and although not an outright supporter of the empire, she wanted to stay out of its way. Daylen leant against one of the pillars, listening to her pray. Every word she muttered, though he respected and understood her view, wasn't something he agreed with.
"Blessed are the peacekeepers, champions of the just," she said every part of the prayer with the utmost belief in her voice.
"Blessed is the empire, may it rule eternal," Daylen said, in synch with Keili.
She turned, and smiled at him. Over the past few months, he approached her whenever she prayed, pretending to be a secret follower of the chant. He'd been trying to gauge her, to determine if she was someone he could trust. She trusted him, though Daylen hoped she didn't love him. Walking closer into the monastery, Daylen touched Keili's chin softly, giving her the choice. She followed the path he needed her to take though, wrapping her arms around his neck and capturing his lips with hers.
As night passed, Daylen and Keili found a corner of the library. There he caressed her face, kissing her softly, hoping she'd forgive the way he was deceiving her. She trusted him so intimately that she didn't noticed or resist his touch on her mind. As they kissed, he held the sides of her head, employing the force to 'push' her into a gentle sleep. Settling her on a chair and resting her head into a book, he created the illusion that she had been up all night studying. She wasn't an offender, the loyalist knight-troopers wouldn't punish her.
With Keili indisposed, Daylen walked back to the monastery. A small group of mages, knight-troopers and clerics were there, gathered around a holo-light. Of the group was Jowan, Greigor, a Knight named Cullen, senior enchanter Niall, Petra, and Daylen's cousin Bethany. The dark haired girl was a beauty, every bit the mage Daylen was and kind too.
"What have you got for us Greigor?" Daylen asked.
"A brief look at Kaius's itinerary, in two days time he'll be returning to Denerim with an apprentice," the templar, and man who still believed in freedom explained.
"Niall?"
"Uldred's been bragging again, saying he's going to Denerim to visit a brothel after an apprentice is chosen, and of the potential apprentices three have been narrowed down, one of whom is still you," Niall said.
"Even though I performed poorly in the arena and have gained no prestige?" Daylen asked.
"Could he suspect what we're doing?" Jowan asked.
"If he did, we'd be dead already," Cullen said.
"Next time you're tested, you need to let the trainers beat you," Petra said.
"Then he'll definitely know you're up to something," Niall retorted.
Daylen rubbed his eyebrows in frustration. He then looked to his cousin, whom began removing numerous sheets of paper from her robe.
"For months I've been sending letters, and for months mother has been sending me back news of how things are in Lothering, as well as how my sister is doing with her hunting," Bethany explained.
She put some of the pieces of paper together, and overlapped others. Shining the light over the pages, the people gathered looked, impressed by what Bethany had made. Each letter returned to her included small pieces of a map, a marked map. Though it didn't have textbook detail of Ferelden, Daylen was familiar with enough maps to know that it was his adopted country, with marks indicating regular patrols and locations for imperial bases.
"Once Anders is back, we'll have everything we need," Daylen smiled, looking around the table of faces he trusted.
They all smiled back, hopeful and confident in the plan that was years in the making. Tonight, a true rebellion was born.
Everyone left one at a time, or in small groups, so as to not alert the guards patrolling the corridors. Daylen often studied late, so he walked back on his own. He felt an uneasy shiver on his neck. Stopping for a moment, he looked back down the corridor and found nothing. Then it came, a weight around the back of his neck. He turned, wrapping his arms around the one who had ambushed him. Soft lips met his, and unlike his kiss with Keili, this one possessed a dominating passion. Daylen ran his hands up the robbed body of his lover, an elf girl with red hair.
"I heard you impressed Kaius today," she said.
"Whilst I haven't heard anything about your progress Nelia," Daylen said, holding her hands and smiling.
They had been friends since they both arrived at the tower together. Him, the bastard child of a noble family, her a city born girl from Highever.
"I had to tell someone," she said.
"What is it?" Daylen asked.
"It's a dream come true Daylen, finally I'll be able to have the strength, and authority to free us both," Nelia said.
"What is it?" this time, there was concern in Daylen's voice, but it didn't make Nelia Surana's smile waver.
"I was listening in on one of Uldred's rants, Kaius has chosen me as one of the potential candidates for apprenticeship!"
Daylen remained speechless, and internally horrified.
"What's wrong Daylen?" she asked.
"Nothing," he lied, but unfortunately, she knew it.
His plans for rebellion, were about to get much more complicated.
Next Episode 2: The occupied planet
Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, Daylen is pretty much the main character within the series, but as you have seen there will be other focus characters as the story progresses. Kaius looks wise is similar to Darth Wyyrlok. I wanted one of the first antagonists of the series to be from a physically powerful race, but he is an intelligent and powerful force user. More Star Wars altered Dragon Age characters will appear next chapter.