PROLOGUE
CORDELIA TREVELYAN

Thank you everyone who is about to read this! It's been a little while since I have written so please excuse anything that looks a little off. If anyone wishes to help correct and edit the story as well as pass ideas between us both I am in the market for some help! Just let me know and I will be excited to connect with you. Please feel free to leave comments regardless, I'm happy to receive critique and how I can better myself! (:

Pairings within the story are still to be set but will be updated shortly.

Everything happens for a reason, their mother would say.

"You go through life thinking you have it all planned," Cordelia had recalled, her mother's voice as clear as a ringing bell. "but the Maker always has other plans for you."

Upon the first manifestation of her magic Cordelia had never viewed it as a curse but a gift. Through her mother's teachings she found her inner calm about it all that other's would quickly view as something dreadful. She had wept only once about it, the moment she accidentally scorched her mother's beautiful dress upon touching it, but instead of frightening her sweet child or even scolding her she had been brought into a hug. "The Maker wishes great things for you, my dear girl," she said to her youngest child, the sound of love lacing every single word as she wiped her daughter's eyes. "and there is no way I can stop the Maker and his will."

It was upon these first interactions with magic that Cordelia found herself proud of her abilities. Not once, ever, did she view it as a curse but rather just a small stepping stone across the great walk of life. Even when the Templars had come to gather her from her home she did not cry, instead she concentrated upon her mother's words and it made her feel stronger.

Her father told her to keep her faith in the Maker and ask Andraste for guidance should she ever find herself lost. "You may have a special gift but never forsake your faith or family." Is what he had said to her in the final moments as they had said their farewells. "Never forget you are my daughter and the Maker's daughter, he and I will always protect you no matter what."

Edwin gave her his favorite toy for luck and to remember him by, he said it would protect her when he could not, and as she walked down the long stretch of road that lead to the gates of the family estate Jessamine refused to let go of her sister's hand. The templar's who had come to gather her struggled to make the other little girl let go.

From the lush growing lands of her home to the great coast of the port city she had seen her existence through a different light. From where she once stood at the side of her parents and gazed up to the buildings she now stared up from the side of her Templar keeper's, both men were quiet in their journey as the little girl's doe eyes glinted from excitement. The city, however, was nothing compared to Faxhold - The Dead Light.

The Circle of Ostwick was something that she never would have thought as comfortable, or at least to begin with. It was made from the ruins of a Tevinten light house and set far from the city itself, the only access being a narrow, falling bridge of stone. The sky overhead was dark but the water below was darker- she could have sworn this was the beginning of one of her mother's stories.

Safely they brought her past and after opening up the great doorway she found herself feeling small. Upon first impressions it was different, cold even, and there were a lot of books and people who caught her eye more often than not. She squeezed the soft toy to her chest for comfort but from within the crowd there was someone in particular who kept her gaze upon her and in truth it made the journey make sense. The person reminded her of her mother, it made her feel less sad and more welcomed.

In her youth she would always recall the smell of the ocean but from within her home estate the smell of the water was usually blotted out by the warm scent of bread and the earthy tone of the ever-growing garden. The sound of the gulls was more prevalent and when she heard the first winter storm crash upon the rocks beneath the tower she longed for the safety of her mother's singing. Although not scared Faxhold made her homesick, her first days of being the newest mage seem almost like a trip that had yet to end.

She was allowed to write one letter home the following week of being there. The elder mages had seen she wasn't quite done settling in and felt that she would feel better at wishing her loved ones well. It was a small letter, it talked of the storm that had taken place the night after she had arrived, and she asked if the garden was okay. It helped but not by a large margin.

It wasn't until she had been introduced to the Circle's small but lovely chantry that she felt at home. Within these moments she began to settle into the term mage far more than what they had all initially thought.

In the years to come Cordelia had grown from being a little girl to a young lady, from being a little sprout to a garden flower.

The beginning of her time at the tower had initially all gone to studying. She made a few friends but recognized the importance of study and the ability to make herself into something to be proud of. It was through Senior Enchanter Lydia that she was able to, the person whose eyes she met upon the first time of being brought to the tower. Cordelia felt a sort of mother presence from her that certainly sought her through challenges that gave way from childhood to becoming a teenager. It was also through Lydia that she met a young Templar named Grayson who was roughly the same age as she was. It was with Grayson whom she had her first crush.

Young love is quick to blossom and quick to lose, however, and as the two young lovers grew closer they soon found the realities that surrounded their environment. Though Faxhold was lax in terms of it's templars, the other mages were quick to see it. Lydia warned her of the trials and tribulations that would follow should she had continued with her infatuation with the young man and spoke of the consequences should it go any further beyond just looks. She recalled being whisked away at a young age and all those years ago how she was made to feel about it. Lydia warned that should she have any children on purpose or accident they would be taken just as she was.

So the two agreed that it was for the best to stay just friends. She was sixteen and in the few shorts years that had come to pass she grew into an exceptional mage.

The Harrowing was indeed something of a fright but the Senior Enchanter noted the girl's ability of perception and just how well it would come in handy. They called her wise but she mostly noted that her dear Lydia had a helping hand in it for if it weren't for Lydia and her teachings she certainly would not have been half the mage she was wishing to be.

Over the course of the years she had received a few letters from her family. Although many mages across Thedas weren't so lucky the young lady Trevelyan was able to stay up to date for the most part. Through Grayson she was able to send and receive letters much quicker and usually her mother expressed her much adoration for her youngest daughter as well as her abilities. Cordelia, as never having to experience any certain hardship in her life, grew into a well versed and often warm individual. She unfortunately was also quite naive.

She was young when the Fifth Blight had begun and only heard stories of it. They whispered of Grey Warden's across the sea and how they defeated the Dark Spawn. Although the excitement knew no bounds it was The Champion of Kirkwall whom had gathered most of her interest. She was a teenager when that had occurred, he was a Marcher too, and a mage! From the way he had sounded he was dashing and was very much her idol.

Back then she would ask herself what she would do if she was anything like either of them. What would she have done with either the Arishok or the great beast that commanded all of the Darkspawn. Would she have been just as strong, or even weak? For many nights alone in the study she would consider these little musings to herself. It wouldn't matter in the end, she would usually decree for she was meant only for the circle's walls.

It was then that the chantry in Kirkwall had blown up leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

A mage had done it and it was then in her heart that she could feel herself lose touch for a while. Many of those within Faxhold were neutral between it all but she herself would often find herself within the little chapel asking the Maker why anyone would do that. In her times of trouble Cordelia found herself lost- she struggled with the very idea anyone would forsake something so lovely.

By then she was twenty and received a letter from her mother proclaiming that in spite of it all she would stand by both of her daughters. Although Cordelia had no idea as to what she meant it was quickly answered by the arrival of a familiar, albeit older, face. Although Jessamine and Cordelia had long since seen one another there was no mistaking her sister who was apparently now a Templar.

There was something different about Jessamine that Cordelia had noted. They were twins, after all, and though the years were long Cordelia could see a certain look upon her sweet sister's face that had indicated an almost distaste for those around. Jessamine had always been the tougher of the two though and though she had both Lydia and Grayson at her side she was thankful for a blood relation in the times of trouble.

Within the two short years that had come the Circles began to rebel. One by one after the first annulment in Kirkwall everything began to collapse. Cordelia began at her hand in politics at this time and though naive she began to have a certain understanding on it all. Before she was whisked away to the Circle she recalled her studies as a young noble and how it used to bore her- she was a child then and as a mage this was far more important to her life.

But no matter the thin veil that held together the circle that had been her home it too fell apart. Her dear Lydia was killed by a younger student, frightened and mad that they had been taken away, and the last she had seen of Grayson was him leading Jessamine and herself out of the way. They shared one last and final look before he managed to smuggle them out of Ostwick.

It was through this time that she and Jessamine were on the run. As they wandered through various places and made it through various things they were unable to write to their family. Jessamine spoke of their brother and just how well he had blossomed into being the son of a noble. They spoke of the ruling family in Starkhaven and they both, in their own ways, made comments upon the Champion of Kirkwall. It was like time hadn't passed between the two and both girls felt better in each other's company. Cordelia was thankful that her beloved sister once again found herself in her life.

The few months that had come and gone proved to be difficult but not too difficult to manage with. It was within this time that they heard rumors of a conclave nestled within the Frostback mountains. Cordelia, curious and eager to help put an end to such troublesome times, convinced Jessamine and herself to seek the mages delegation out. Jessamine was cautious as having been a templar among mages during such a time of unrest but they agreed that if it ended it all it would be ok.

But as they arrived, the temple itself a majesty, little did they know the plans the Maker held for them both.