Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age
This story could be considered a rewrite of a story I recently took down, Right and Duty. That story, like this was an insert of the character from origins into Kirkwall during the events of Dragon Age 2, but at the same time I'm going to change some things in order to make a more original story.
The Origins character as you can probably see from the character tags is Daylen Amell, the mage origin. The Mage and Dalish Elf origins were my favourite origins, not just because of game play but because of the story setting and how they linked on a more personal level with characters in Dragon Age 2. Whilst there was more detail with Mahariel, Amell is actually related to Hawke.
This story follows the premise of what your character can say at the end of the first game, Daylen has been journeying across Thedas, he has some new/old companions and he's basically a wiser man now. His travels take him to Kirkwall, where the Amells are a shadow of what they were, Hawke is struggling with funding a deep roads expedition and other issues that will be revealed as the story goes on. Daylen meets Hawke and the only remaining family he has left and decides to help them. This covers Hawke's first few years in Thedas and I intend to make sequel stories covering the Qunari occupation and the breakdown of the circle.
What you can expect from this fic is both Bethany and Carver in Kirkwall (how will be explained) and the relationship Daylen forges with them and Hawke who is a female rogue. Other characters from both games will appear including a character we have yet to see, though heavily altered. There will be quests and storylines from the game but some with twists and the endings for some of the acts and Kirkwall's fate will change not just because of Daylen's presence.
I hope you all enjoy the first chapter, which covers Kirkwall and the Amell family.
Rise of the Hawks: Reunion
Prologue: Fall of the Amells
The miraculous land of Thedas has many great nations and cities and it is the stories of the individuals from these nations that have gone down in history. Ferelden has many heroes, but its greatest came not from there, but across the waking sea in the land of the Free Marches, in the great city of Kirkwall. Formerly called Emerius, the city of chains was once a fief of the Tevinter Imperium, but before the dragon age began the slaves rose up in rebellion and freed themselves of Tevinter rule. Viscount became the ruling title and there were many men and women who performed this duty to various degrees of success. Elected primarily from noble families, Kirkwall never had the risk of running out of leaders. The noble families of Kirkwall produced many leaders, all of whom would have made fine rulers in their own right. The head of the Harimann family was adept at architecture and finance, the DeLancet's produced sensible negotiators and traders. But there was one family in all of Kirkwall that the people were willing to follow, even going so far as to suggest that they were the logical successors of Viscount Perrin Threnhold.
The Amells were the wealthiest and most popular family in all of Kirkwall. They were led by the brothers Aristide and Fausten Amell and the bonds of the family were strong. Aristide was the finest negotiator and financer in all of Kirkwall, whilst Fausten was a skilled warrior and tactician. For years they supported the people of Kirkwall and ensured that the unpopular actions of Perrin Threnhold would never hurt them. Viscount Threnhold, though an admirable man and ruler in his own right was cutting Kirkwall off from the involvement of other nations. That unfortunately included Orlais, the most powerful nation in Thedas having once had a fief in Ferelden and being the capital of the Chant of light. Orlais always commanded the Chantry and Perrin saw that eventually the Chantry would have more power than him. So he cut off trade with Orlais and Antiva, erecting a gigantic net from the twin statues, which also made an Orlesian attack impossible. But ultimately Threnhold's downfall came from within the city of chains. In an attempt to gain control of the city, Threnhold gathered his troops and attacked the Templars, the military arm of the Chantry. His list of allies was short but after a bloody campaign he executed the Knight-Commander and declared the Chantry exiled from Kirkwall.
Around the time the Viscount came into conflict with the Chantry, the Amell family enjoyed the peace of their own reign in Hightown. Aristide had an estate close to the Viscounts keep, whilst Fausten lived in a mansion close to the Chantry. The Amell's were blessed four years before the Viscount's rebellion against the Chantry, when Fausten's daughter Revka gave birth. The boy was named Daylen and raised as a potential heir to Fausten's estate, for the family knew his son Damion's incompetence and gambling habits made him an unworthy successor. Growing up with the hatred of his uncle but the love of his mother and second cousin Leandra, young Daylen made very few friends because of his connection to the Amell family, and his grandfather's outspokenness rubbing off on him. Despite this, or perhaps because of it Fausten valued Daylen more than any of his grandchildren and always kept him close by.
Daylen thought of training as playing, for Fausten wanted to make a warrior out of Daylen. He smiled as the boy slammed his wooden pole against the sticks he wielded. Revka and Leandra sat watching, the boy's mother grimaced every time her father knocked her child to the dirt. But even with his face stained by the mud and a bruise fresh on his arm, the boy smiled and stood back up, laughing the bruise off and continuing to hack at his grandfather. Fausten swung his twin sticks and cheered as the boy finally blocked the strike and counter attacked, striking his leg. Life was good for them and the day was fine, for whatever the future held Fausten was proud to have a grandchild destined for greatness.
"Well done boy, but remember, the true measure of a warrior is not in fighting, but knowing when it is necessary to fight," Fausten patted his grand child's shoulder and pushed him to his mother.
Aristide emerged from the rose bed, clapping his hands in mocking admiration of his brother's wisdom. As Revka fussed over the boy, the two men walked far from their children and spoke of the family and their future.
"An arranged marriage? Brother is that really necessary?" Fausten asked.
"DeLauncet's son is a fine young man and well within Leandra's age, our financial stability is not the best since you bailed Damion out of his debts, of course that wouldn't have happened if you had attained a firmer control of your children," Aristide explained.
"Family is what matters most Aristide, but also free will and the right for every child of the maker to control their own destiny even if it leads them to ruin the fact that it is the path they chose is what is important!"
Aristide shook his head in disapproval of his brother's philosophy. Fausten was a good fighter but he did not live in a rational world, he lived in an idealistic world. But the world was not all ideals, the Chantry had control, the Maker's word was their word and for the sake of survival they had to conform to the laws the Chantry set. Though Aristide maintained a small hope that if he truly did become Viscount he could at least discourage the Chantry from involvement in matters that were best for the people, such as his and Fausten's idea to empower the commoners with a bill of rights and privileges. The Chantry and the Templars would pay no heed to what they did for their people.
"You antagonise too many people brother, especially the clerics, why not commit Daylen to the Chantry?" Aristide asked.
"Leandra was a baby when she was committed, she kicked and screamed bless her, for she did not know the Chantry, I would prefer my children to follow the faith wilfully, knowing its good points and accepting the bad…if Daylen later chooses not to pray then I will be thankful that he becomes a man of action not faith," Fausten explained.
"You give them too much freedom Fausten!"
"And you are perhaps not as firm as you believe, Gamlen and Leandra are their own, their destiny's are theirs to control and though you may demand of them to marry into noble family's, ultimately they will choose their own paths and you as their father have a duty to love them for it either way."
"Do not remind me of my duty as a father, you may have had children earlier than I but still keep in mind that I am the elder here," Aristide laughed.
"By mere minutes brother!"
"Still sore that I won the race?"
The two brothers laughed and their applause of life was only deepened when their bright grand child jumped from the tree, knocking them both to the ground.
"DAYLEN!" Revka yelled, rushing over to the boys. "Don't run out of my sight again, and don't go climbing trees either," she again wiped the fresh dirt from his face.
"Calm yourself daughter, he's just honing his skills isn't he?" Aristide asked, winking at the boy.
Daylen nodded and laughed as Aristide lifted the boy onto his shoulders. Leandra smiled at the display, for though her father was strict she also remembered him being a great source of fun and laughs when she was Daylen's age. Even as Daylen yanked at his hair and kicked the sides of his head Aristide played his part well, running through the garden, ducking under tree branches and jumping over logs. Fausten leant on his sword and smiled as he listened to his grandson laugh, life was indeed good.
Threnhold's campaign to purge the Chantry of Kirkwall did not end with the death of the Knight-Commander. He wanted the complete eradication of the Chantry from his city. Some wondered if he saw the Orlesian influence in the Chantry and simply wanted his city free of foreign rule or if he hated the religion so much that he wanted it wiped from Thedas. Either way people knew what he did next, but very few knew of the specific effects of that night.
"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter, blessed are the peacekeepers champions of the just!"
Grand Cleric Elthina had the respect of many and as she led the evening prayer, her followers bowed their heads and accepted her blessings and prayers. The values of the others in the Chantry were not all aligned however. It was Daylen's first time in the Chantry, but he was not praying. Leandra walked into the study and saw her second cousin sitting on a stool as her uncle read from various history books. She leant against the frame of the door and watched Daylen's curious expression as Fausten moved onto the story of Andraste.
"They say that Andraste's death due to the betrayal of her mortal husband showed the maker that man was not yet ready to be saved…I however believe we are capable of saving ourselves, for that is the true measure of the story, Andraste fought and rallied others, there were no miracles behind her, only the miracles made through human action and will," Fausten explained.
"But grandfather, if Andraste preached of freedom then why are mages locked away, have they done something wrong?" Daylen asked.
"That…is a very difficult subject to explain," Fausten sighed.
"Why? Everyone talks about the evils of slavery, but locking people up when they are young without charge of a crime is wrong isn't it?"
Fausten looked down at the boy, unable to answer his question.
"Would you like to receive Mother Elthina's blessing?" he asked his grandson.
"Only if she can give me a good reason as to why mages are locked up," Daylen stubbornly said.
Fausten laughed before lifting the boy onto his shoulder. He walked out of the library, smiling at Leandra. Lately Leandra had been happy as well, so much more than she had been months ago when Aristide had declared her betrothal to the De Lancet's son. Either she had warmed up to the idea or she had found someone else to turn her affection on, Fausten was not blind and he too had experienced love. Having the freedom to choose whom he loved and married gave him Revka and his son, and later on the bright young boy who rested on his shoulder. Daylen was Fausten's pride and joy, as Leandra was Aristide's.
"Cousin, why are mages locked away?" Daylen asked.
"I guarantee you'll never get a straight or absolutely correct answer from anyone Daylen, alls we have are half truths now," Leandra said.
"My, my Leandra, who have you been dallying with to come out with such wisdom?" Fausten asked.
"No one you should worry father with," Leandra said.
"Ah to be young again!"
The three Amells walked down the stairs to join Elthina's continuing communion. The doors of the Chantry were suddenly swung open and armed men began marching into the grand hall. At the front was a man clad in black armour, carrying a silver helmet between his hand and hip. Fausten recognised the armour itself as that of the legendary fallen knights whom fought against the growing power of Orlais during the exalted age. It was perhaps fitting that it was Perrin Threnhold wearing the armour, although he lacked the crown of the Viscount the dark haired man held clear authority as he led his troops to disrupt Elthina's communion.
"This Chantry is hereby disbanded, you will move this place of worship to somewhere outside of my city," Perrin declared.
"On whose authority?" one of the mothers asked.
Fausten placed Daylen on the ground and pulled his face to his chest. Though Daylen heard the sound of a sword being drawn, he didn't see the Viscount slash the woman's throat. The people gasped as the woman fell, her blood spreading across the floor. Fausten pushed Daylen into Leandra's arms and walked to the communion area, stepping between Perrin and Elthina.
"What is the meaning of this Threnhold?" Fausten demanded.
"The Orlesian influence on the Chantry is too great, as is the Chantry's influence on this city, these holy people and their superstitious and hypocritical ways will lead the rest of Thedas to civil ruin, they will not however push Kirkwall down that path," Perrin explained.
"The nobility will never support this, Orlais will counter attack, the net on the twins will not hold them forever," Fausten stated.
"Then join me Amell," Perrin said softly, placing his hand on Fausten's shoulder. "Help me purge this city of these debaters and worshippers, help me restore order and logic to this city!"
"You speak of logic, but this, killing all those whom disagree with you, executing in cold blood the people whom are exercising their born right to faith…no Perrin, this is not the way to change the world," Fausten sighed.
Threnhold narrowed his eyes, gripping his sword tightly as he stepped away from Fausten.
"Don't do this Amell, I'd rather not be your enemy and keep in mind your bloodline was born from magic…how long will that magic remain dormant, how long until the Templars take your children's children away? Perhaps your faith in the Chantry will change once you see the true evil of the 'champions of the just'," Threnhold explained, looking at each of the noblemen and women within the Chantry.
"I sympathise with the mages, but this is the will of the Chantry and the maker," Elthina said.
Perrin closed his eyes and turned his back to the grand cleric. His anger soured into outright fury, giving shape to a sinister and sadistic smile.
"Very well Elthina, pray…all of you pray," he walked towards the candles, picking them up and throwing them at the tapestries.
He clicked his fingers and his soldiers began pouring oil across the walls. His sword glowed with fire; a dwarven enchantment had gifted the blade with magical powers to further increase Threnhold's might. The worshippers panicked as the soldiers swiped at them with their swords, forming a wall at the entrance of the Chantry with their shields. Revka looked over the shoulders of the worshippers, searching for her child. Leandra kept Daylen close, trying to keep him from witnessing the inevitable murder Perrin would commit.
"Pray as I prayed the day the wasting took my family, pray as I prayed when I witnessed family's torn apart because of the Chantry's hypocritical tyranny, pray Elthina…" he snarled, whipping his head towards the cleric, his eyes overcome by an insane rage. "Pray and be met with mocking silence BEFORE YOU DIE!"
The man yelled as he raised his sword over his head. Fausten leapt in front of Perrin, grabbing his arms and wrestling the sword from his grip. Elthina stood firm as the nobility watched the two men clash anxiously. Though Perrin was younger, Fausten held greater experience in battle as he jabbed at the Viscount's face again and again. Perrin attempted a wild haymaker, but Fausten blocked it and slammed his fist into the man's cheek. Grabbing one another, the two men slammed into the wall. Fausten caught Perrin's arm between his armpits and grabbed the back of his head, slamming him face first into a golden statue of Andraste, heated by the fire Perrin started. His face burned and he yelled in anger before Fausten pushed him to the ground, yanking away the buckles of his armour. The chest plate of the fallen fell to the floor and Perrin went to his knees.
"Your family's death was a tragedy Perrin, do not add all of Kirkwall to it as well, I beg of you," Fausten said.
Suddenly, a blade slid out of Perrin's wrist guard. He stabbed the blade into Fausten's gut, mercilessly twisting it. Fausten looked at the man he once respected and saw a glimmer of regret in the man's eyes.
"FATHER!" Revka screamed, abandoning her search for Daylen to rush through the crowd.
She knelt by her father's side, nestling his head in her lap. Perrin rubbed his eyes before turning to Elthina in fury.
"Many more will die, unless you leave this place and never come back," he snarled.
"The only one who will leave the city is you Threnhold!"
Perrin turned to the entrance of the Chantry. A contingent of templar knights had reformed their ranks and began fighting through Perrin's personal guard. The Knight-Lieutenant Meredith Stannard led them. She cleaved through the soldiers with her great sword; sweat flying off of her golden locks. Perrin narrowed his eyes and gripped his sword with both hands. He ran at the Templars, cutting down two knights on his way to Meredith. She raised her sword, blocking Perrin's strike. The pair slammed their swords together, continuing their duel as Meredith's knights cut down one soldier after another. Daylen struggled under Leandra's grip, looking through the robes and legs of the people in front of him. He gasped in horror, seeing his beloved grandfather bleeding in his mother's arms.
"Your blasphemy has come to an end," Meredith growled as she slashed Perrin's arm.
The Viscount shoved Meredith to the ground and pushed two clerics aside. He let out a yell as he ran towards the grand cleric. An arrow suddenly pierced through Perrin's leg, bringing him to the ground.
"In the name of the maker I execute you for your disloyalty," Meredith raised her sword, ready to behead the man.
"ENOUGH!" the Grand Cleric yelled.
The knights and soldiers stopped, seeing Meredith and Elthina standing over the defeated rebel leader. One by one, the soldiers still alive dropped their weapons. Perrin, seeing utter defeat hung his head low.
"A court will decide his fate, we are not without mercy," Elthina said.
"Damn your mercy Elthina, damn your Chant of light, one day it will burn," the former Viscout snarled before two guards lifted him to his feet.
The guards clamped cuffs of iron around Perrin's hands. Daylen broke free from Leandra's grip and rushed through the crowd.
"DAYLEN NO!" Leandra screamed.
Elthina looked to the child with a sad expression, even Meredith lowered her head in sympathy.
"Daylen stay back please," Revka said.
"No, let him see, he's a fighter," Fausten said.
Daylen knelt beside his grandfather, tears falling from his eyes. He saw his grandfather, a strong man, the person he thought of as the strongest of all men lying on the ground as weak and defenceless as he was. The boy choked and shook his head in denial.
"Daylen Amell," Elthina whispered.
Daylen touched the blood flowing from Fausten's chest and screamed. Aristide rushed into the Chantry and looked at his dying brother in horror. His eyes turned to Perrin and overcome by rage he drew his sword and began walking towards the former Viscount. Meredith nodded to her knights and they immediately restrained the Amell head. Daylen's hands shook and he grit his teeth together, burying his head in his grandfather's robe. He raised his head, revealing the blood that had soaked the fringe of his hair and left cheek.
"I wont…let it end…LIKE THIS!" the child screamed.
Elthina moved to hug the boy, but stopped in horror. The boy's eyes began to shine red and the blood from the dead mother rose from the ground. It swirled in the air and the knights, particularly Meredith looked at the boy defensively.
"I WONT LET HIM DIE!" Daylen yelled.
The blood suddenly flew at Fausten, enveloping his wound. Light began to shine from the stab mark as the blood formed a scab, weaving the broken arteries back together and forming scabbing over the torn flesh. Fausten let out a sharp breath, raising his head from Revka's lap. The light left Daylen's eyes, but his blue eyes, the most common trait of the Amell's had changed, they had instead turned a blood red colour. Fausten touched the healed area in amazement and Daylen looked at the people around him, confused by the horror in their eyes.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"Daylen you're a…" Revka could not bring herself to say the word, she instead stood up and gripped her mouth.
"Why are you crying mother?" Daylen asked. "Grandfather is going to be okay, we're all going to be okay, things can go back to the way they were," he ignorantly stated.
"Blood magic," Meredith snarled.
"But the way he used it, to heal, that's never been done and from a child no less," an older templar, Emeric stated.
"Seize him," Meredith said.
Daylen shook in fear as two templars approached him.
"Have I done something wrong?" he asked.
"Don't…don't fight them boy," Fausten lowered his head.
Leandra looked at her cousin and uncle in horror. She expected them both to lunge at the templars, to protect their beloved son and grandson. Her legs shook as she was too overcome by fear to help. Tears began gushing from Daylen's eyes as the knights yanked him off of the floor.
"Mother, grandfather, what have I done wrong?" he asked.
His voice had become hysterical as he struggled under the grip of the templars.
"Please, PLEASE TELL ME! TELL ME WHAT I DID WRONG!" he screamed and screamed, looking at his idols helplessly.
Meredith put her sword on her back and raised her hand to Daylen's head. Light shined from the woman's gloved hands. The flash caused Daylen to yell and swing his head down, driven unconscious by the power all templars commanded.
"A smite, on a child Meredith?" Emeric looked at Meredith in horror.
"He would have grown angry if left unchecked, he has already resorted to blood magic, possession from a demon is inevitable," Meredith explained.
Perrin looked between Daylen and Fausten. Whilst Fausten was overcome by shock, unmoving and relenting, the boy was barely conscious, showing a strength his idol didn't have. The former Viscount leant forward, glaring at Meredith.
"You were born', that's what you were thinking of saying to him wasn't it? Don't deny it Stannard, I've seen your hatred for mages, and you…" his eyes turned to Elthina, "You claim to be the wise, all caring leader but you know of the abuse your 'champions of the just' commit, you know what goes on behind the walls of that tower, YOU ARE A FOOL GRAND CLERIC! ANY OF YOU WHO CONDONE THE CIRCLE ARE FOOLS! SUPERSTITOUS AND COWARDLY FOOLS, EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!"
Meredith punched Perrin across the head. He spat a blob of blood onto the flaming sword symbol on Meredith's chest plate.
"One day everyone will understand what it is to see their child taken from them, one day they will say enough, the old ways will burn!"
"GET THIS MAN OUT OF MY SIGHT!" Meredith yelled.
Perrin smiled as he was dragged away. He smiled in his cell as the revered mother of Orlais came to Kirkwall with her seeker guard. After the seekers and templars restored order they subjected Perrin to a one sided trial, his fate had been decided since the day he attacked the Chantry but he smiled through the formality. He smiled even when the executioners hung him. Word quickly spread amongst the nobility that the Amell line had been tainted, that Daylen Amell was a mage. The nobility dared not go against the will of the templars and the Chantry. Months after Threnhold's execution Dumar was declared Viscount, what was dismissed as rumour became fact amongst the people that Dumar only achieved power because of Meredith and Elthina and that it was the templars whom held the true authority over Kirkwall. As for Daylen, Meredith wished him to be made tranquil, but Elthina sought a more merciful solution. With the circle tower in need of repair due to Perrin's rebellion, the revered mother declared that all underage mages including apprentices were to be sent to the circle in Ferelden. Aristide chose to visit his grand nephew.
"Grand uncle," Daylen's eyes shined with hope as Aristide entered his cell.
"My boy," Aristide hugged the child, frowning at the chain and iron clamped to his heel.
Outside of the cell, two templars watched the exchange between the Amell head and the child. One of the knights was a young man with red hair, whilst the other was a slightly older man with brown hair.
"Its disgusting how we treat mage children Thrask," the older knight said.
"I agree, but there is not much we can do with the new Knight-Commander," the young knight sighed.
"To make a woman like Meredith Knight-Commander…it is inappropriate, her hatred for mages is clear as is the hatred of all those loyal to her. Fear does more harm than magic truly can, fear turns people into animals, fear has driven us into becoming tyrants over our fellows, I will not tolerate this for much longer Thrask, this isn't the order I joined," the older knight punched the wall in anger before he walked away.
"Maurevar Carver," Thrask called out to the templar, wondering how far Carver's doubt of the order had gone.
"What have I done wrong uncle, why can't I go home?" Daylen asked.
"Don't ever think that you have done something wrong boy, I know it isn't fair but this is simply the way the world is right now, I'm sorry but you cant ever go home child," Aristide explained.
"But, but I haven't done anything wrong!" Daylen cried.
"Listen to me child, magic has been in our family since its formation, but it is only now that it has awakened, there has to be a reason for it, I believe that there is a reason why you have been born a mage…it is up to you to find that reason, to prove to everyone whom calls you a danger, who calls your magic a curse wrong, to turn that curse into a gift for all your fellow men of Thedas. You'll be alone for a while, but if you try hard enough you'll make some friends that are really worth having, friends who will support you no matter what and friends who you will feel compelled to support no matter what they ask, people worth dying for, rely on yourself Daylen but don't squander or ignore what you can learn at the tower!"
Aristide pulled the boy into a hug, having told him what he knew his brother would say. Daylen hugged the only relative who visited him harder than he had ever hugged anyone before. Fausten grew depressed over the loss of his most cherished grandson and didn't visit the docks to watch the Chantry boat depart. Leandra, Aristide and his son, Leandra's younger brother Gamlen watched however. Meredith permitted them to only wave at the boy as Templars took him to the hold like a prisoner. In the years that followed, the Amell family's reputation began to fall apart, both personally and financially. Fausten fell deeper into his depression and his son fell deeper into debt. At the same time Aristide's household faced greater struggles. Leandra had fallen in love with a mage, so deeply in love that when Aristide made her choose between him and the family, she chose her lover Malcom Hawke. After gaining funds through an unknown means and with the aid of a kind Templar, Malcolm and Leandra left the Free Marches for a new life. Aristide and Fausten shared the same grief, having lost the family members that they cherished the most. Fausten lost his estate paying for the debts his son had incurred. In time Aristide and Fausten lost touch with one another and Fausten eventually moved away from Kirkwall. Aristide and his wife eventually fell to a wasting sickness, the heir of the Amells continually called out for his daughter. The Amell estate passed to Gamlen, whom after years of pursuing treasure and incurring debt had to sell the estate to slavers. It was thus that the Amells had fallen, Fausten's children passed and Gamlen's wife left him. People said that magic had tainted the Amell line and destroyed it. In the years that followed Viscount Dumar ruled under the eye of the Templars, maintaining positive diplomatic relations with other nations, some said at the cost of more power to the Chantry. Internally however crime, corruption even slavery markets flourished under Dumar's ignorant rule.
Daylen Amell however lived on. Through the crippling and cold silence of his Templar guards, the sickness induced by the journey and his own grief, Daylen survived and reached what would be his new home in the coming years. His walk through the fields of Fereldan would be his last moment of true freedom. People stayed away from the templars, watching as they led young mages and apprentices on the road to Lake Calenhad.
The journey continued for Daylen as he headed towards his new home. He kept his eyes to the ground, ever since they left Gwaren and passed through Amaranthine he had been counting the steps it took to reach the tower. They apparently weren't even half way, the Templars were polite when they spoke to him, but most avoided it. Occasionally Daylen would hear whispers of what he had done to save his grandfather and it was then that he began to understand, they feared him. More and more Daylen began to feel that it was with good reason. The dangers of his powers became apparent from the moment he stepped into the circle tower. His arrival came when a demon rampaged through the tower, towards the entrance. He watched as Knight-Commander Greigor drew his sword and struck the creature of rage down. The Knight-Commander then turned to Daylen, recognising the fear and confusion in his eyes and said:
"That's why you're here, so you learn how not to turn into that."
Thus it was over a period of eighteen years that Daylen lived in the tower. He never used blood magic again, but he was never able to shape the mana necessary to perform curative spells. Under First Enchanter Irving's guidance, Daylen learnt how to control his abilities and of the dangers of the Fade. He established bonds, gaining friends and rivals, yet he felt alone as his uncle said he would be, he took his lessons to heart but he never shook away the feeling that he didn't belong at the tower. Even so he continued to improve in his discipline and knowledge, eventually completing his Harrowing in the thirtieth year of the dragon age. During that time, darkspawn movement began to increase in Ferelden, so much so that the grey wardens, fearing another blight launched extensive recruitment campaigns as King Cailan assembled his army. They recruited warriors, hunters, thieves, anyone with talent and even criminals, invoking the right of conscription to recruit people of all races. Daylen's life changed when Ferelden grey warden commander Duncan went to the circle tower at the same time as Daylen sought to help his friend Jowan escape.
Bound by the will of the right of conscription and guided by his grandfather's memory and the teachings of his seniors, Daylen moved towards a destiny at Ostagar that would bind his life to that of many others, and would trigger the winds of change throughout Thedas. For an even greater story was waiting beyond the blight, beyond Ferelden, a story that began with the cries of a child and a promise. A promise made by a man just before he was hung. To say the people rejoiced when Viscount Threnhold was hung would be chantry propaganda. The truth was that the city was silent, Threnhold was thought of not as a criminal but an example, an example of what happens when the templars are defied. After the formalities of the trial and the spectacle of marching him towards the hang man a moment passed between the former Viscount and Meredith passed.
"You smile even before death Threnhold, is this madness that grips you?" she asked, tying the rope around his neck.
"No," the man smiled, tilting his head back and looking the Knight-Commander in the eye. "I had a vision of the future, or rather a hope, an expectation, I finally have faith now, belief in something that might not necessarily happen," Perrin laughed as two knights gripped his shoulders.
"I do not deal in maybes," Meredith said.
"Then deal in this Meredith, consider it, I loved a woman outside of marriage...I have a son, and like me there will come a day he will despise your order and the chantry and as I promised everything you hold sacred will burn."
Meredith seemingly ignored the Viscount's last words. But the seed of paranoia was set within her. The very thought of it drove her, the promise that Threnhold made of the old world burning. That paranoia would drive her in her duties and pave the way for further tragedy.
Next Chapter 1: Journey
Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.
Next time we skip to Daylen as an adult as he remembers the fifth blight and his actions during that period, we are also introduced to some of his new companions whom are all familiar faces.
Please review and tell me what you thought of the chapter, I wanted to capture the innocence of a child and how they would react to suddenly being dragged away from their home (cause they would wonder what they've done wrong) and at the same time establish the bond the Amell family had before it all fell apart.
Also I intend to make this a Fenris/Hawke romance in the future and I've fallen for the Carver/Merrill idea. What do you guys think?
