Original Character in a Dragon Age (Bioware) Alternate Universe
Prologue!
Enjoy!
That was it.
She was screwed.
Dead.
Done.
Doomed.
A horde of darkspawn attacked, killed almost everyone. The noble was dead. She was no better. Threw against a rock, then she fell in the road's gutter. And one of the darkspawn with pointy ears vomit his guts on her, as a Warden reduce him to shreds. The human did not see tiny elf suffering in the gutter. The heat of the battle was too great!
At that moment, Siris couldn't move. Her body was plagued by a terrible corruption, pain froze her limbs. She couldn't cry or scream. Helpless. Desparate. Look at me! I'm here! She wanted to shout: no voice, no noise. Just silent slow, painful death. Her bones broke and mended back. She was burning, freezing, sinking in a sea of acid; salt on wounds and ashes in her lungs. Her brain was too big or was her skull too small? Her eyes were ready to explode! Siris felt her body's insides being tore upside down. The excruciating suffering went on and on, for what seemed to be forever. Suddenly, something inside her cracked. Silence. Peace. Calm. Rest. No breath. Body sinking in the earth, yet remaining still as stone. No Pain. She was suffering, no more. Her eyes slowly closed, she felt like falling asleep. But was she asleep? She could not know.
As the Grey Wardens burnt the bodies, they did not notice her: they left never knowing her fate.
It was morning when they were attacked, but when Siris opened her eyes again, it was pitch black. She stood up, wondering, questioning. What happen? No pain, no suffering. But the embers on the burnt bodies proved none of what she felt and saw were part of a dream.
The moon was absent, but the stars were high and gorgeous. Why was she feeling so light? She looked at herself. Nothing worth noting, beside the blood tainting what used to be some sort of clothing. Her master never bothered giving real clothes to his slaves; he would, in fact, enjoy seeing them in rags, sacks initially meant for potatoes or, in worst case, completely naked. Siris had the luxury to wear a sack for potatoes: she wasn't pretty enough to be naked; which wasn't a bad thing.
Wait.
If the master and all his kin got killed that would mean… no. Surely there were laws to prevent a slave being free because of his or hers masters' death…
Wait again! She was in the middle of nowhere, no witnesses. Why should she care for laws that worked against her interests? New thoughts, new thinking. She was not used to think for herself. Was it safe, could she think for herself?
The carriage was heading to the Free Marches, before the attack. Her master wanted to help his magister friend with a "slave problem" in a city named "Kirkwall". The elf in question ran away during a qunari attack; at least that was what Siris heard. But no matter.
As far as everyone was concerned: she died with the master.
She was free!
Nevertheless, Siris didn't look the part. She looked in fact, like a blood-covered slave. Her appearance was screaming "MURDEROUS ELVEN SLAVE ON THE RUN!". That will be what people think seeing her like that. A slave murdering her master's family to be free; and continuing her bloodthirsty journey to revenge! Siris did not care for revenge: survival came first! She wanted a quiet life. Not serving, not being served. However, she couldn't reach that goal like this. She could not decently go on a journey for freedom in these rags, and certainly not covered in blood.
Blood.
Wait.
Darkspawn blood. She was sure it was darkspawn blood all other her body. There was no way she wasn't corrupted. Will she have turn into one of these monsters? Will she die? What about the pain? Where did it go? Was it normal to feel nothing after such excruciating suffering?
"Stop thinking!" She cried. "Focus. Clean first; questions later."
The carriage was still there. The Wardens took the food, but there were the master's daughters clothes. Humans were larger than elves, but these girls were huge. No dresses would fit Siris properly. The young elf looked around; there was a woman in the master's personal guard, wasn't there? She looked in the guards' supplies cart. The armour burnt with the guardswoman, but she did not wear all her clothes during the attack, did she?
"Ma serannas…" Siris muttered as she found women clothing. "Thank you, whoever might be watching over me…"
Was it the Maker? Andraste? Fen'Harel or Mythal, perhaps? Siris did not know, nor did she care: she was alive and had something decent to put on her back.
But before doing that, she needed to clean up. She recalled a river they crossed before the attack, not far from here. However, if she had to go there, she had to take everything she could, here. There was no way she was going back to this dreadful place.
In the carriage and cart, she found pieces of leather armour: not much, just greaves, gauntlets and a pauldron. She took a belt to which she attached a carved dagger. In a shoulder bag, the young elf put the clothes, pieces of torn up clothing, gold and jewels she could sell later.
Then she ran to the river. It was dark, and no one was around. So, she went under the bridge, hide her things, took off what was supposed to be cloths, and went into the water.
"Kaffas!" She cried.
It was freezing cold!
But being covered in blood was not an option.
As Siris rubbed her body with the cold water; she comforts herself by thinking it was not as bad as getting her inside torn up by corruption.
Now that was a concern. What was she supposed to do now? She took everything she could from the carts, but will she need all of this? Will she turn or will she die before ever hoping to survive? She tried to judge how she was feeling. No pain. No weird sensations. No bad thoughts. No voices.
Perhaps she could look for Grey Warden to be sure. Surely it was better to be put down like an animal rather than getting people sick and start a new Blight. That was it then. She was going to look for Grey Wardens. They went to the Free Marches too. Perhaps it wasn't too late to pick up their trail?
Siris put her clothes on. Underwear were strange: she never wore any before. It was comfortable, though. The pants were oddities too, and so was the proper white shirt. However, they made her feel much safer than before. She struggled to put the pieces of armour, but managed to get it right in the end.
She had no map, only her memories. It will have to suffice.
As she took her first steps towards the Free Marches, Siris realized she was taking her first steps as a free elf.
Chapter 1: coming soon!
