The day she was born was full of omens. Whether good or bad, it depended on the person and their beliefs. From her parents' perspective, the brightness of the rising sun was a sign of hope. For the Keeper, the blood-red tinge of the same sun told her that the child was going to be battle-tested. For the rest of the clan, the child's high pitched wailing coupled with the wolves' singing in the forest was a sign that she would be strong and a force to be feared. Thus, her name was to be Mya'fen. To follow the wolf. So that all those she encounters would know the path that she takes.
Ten years pass and the infant has grown into quite the child. She was both curious and knowledgeable, serious and silly, in short, she was quite the handful. Her bright blue eyes, ringed with silver flashed with curiosity.
"Mya, no. You mustn't eat that!" Her mother cries out, when the blonde haired child tries to eat a particularly dangerous plant.
"Why not?" Mya asks.
"Because it'll make you terribly ill, child." Miasha explains patiently. She takes the plant from the tiny hands of her child.
"You don't want to meet Falon'Din early, do you?" the child shakes her head at this.
"No, Mamae, I want to live until I'm as old as the sky!" Her mother chuckles and runs her hand through Mya'fen's platinum blonde hair.
"Then you must be careful, and think before you act." Miasha says sternly. "Let's see if your father is done making dinner."
They take the long way back to their aravel, mostly so Miasha could teach her about plants. When they finally arrive where their clan was camped. But what they come home to is most unexpected. Humans were attacking the aravels and the elves both.
"Knife-eared, heathen, bastards!" someone calls out.
"Shemlen scum!" an elf responds.
"Quickly, we must get the aravel up and moving!" Mya clutched her mother's hand as they ran past the violence. "Hurry!" her mother cries. "We must go!"
When they finally reach the aravel that is theirs, it is quiet.
"Vhenan!" Miasha cried out. "Where are you?" No response. She turned to her daughter. "Run. As far and as quickly as you can. Find another clan. Tell them was has transpired here." Mya refused to move, tears flowing down her tiny cheeks.
"No, I want to stay with you! Where is Papae?" Miasha growled in frustration and grief.
"Go! Now! Do as I tell you and run!" She noticed a halla struggling to break the cord that attached it to the aravel. Miasha picked up her daughter, and ran to the halla, setting her daughter down on it. She pulled the knife strapped to her thigh out of its leather sheath and cut at the bindings of the halla.
"There's some knife-ears over here!" a man called out. A group of seven rouge men headed their way.
"Never forget this, Mya'fen: No matter how lonely or sad you are, no matter what happens, your father and I will always watch over you and we will always love you." Miasha whispered in her ear. She lifted her hand and smacked the halla's flanks. "May the Dread Wolf follow and protect you!" She cried as the halla galloped away.
Miasha turned around to face her enemies. She clenched the dagger in her hands. The Dalish woman knew that her husband and most of her clan were likely dead, and that she would likely also perish.
"She ain't half bad lookin', boss. Now that she ain't got her little brat with her." One of the men taunted, leering at the mother.
"Someone go get the brat and the stupid antelope thing she's riding." The man that seemed to be in charge commanded.
"You think you're justified in this?" Miasha demanded. "We have done nothing to you." A man with black leather armor approached the woman.
"You and your clan are demons and must be purged. The magic you knife-eared heretics practice must be destroyed."
"There's no point in convincing you. You've already caused too much death for even your precious Andraste to be able to forgive you." She points her dagger at a man in black leather amour. "You're first." She swiftly lunges and cuts the throat of the man. The man gasps and attempts to cover the gash. It is pointless, the man bleeds out. "Who's next?"
Mya'fen didn't know how long the halla ran. They ran and ran and ran as she sobbed. Eventually the halla slowed down and gave Mya the chance to study her surroundings. Bes the trees, there was a river that ran past a small clearing where Mya and her clan had once camped. Not far from her, there was a cave where the clan used to go to gather certain herbs before a cave-in the area in which the herds were most abundant. Both the halla and the elf walked to the river to drink the much needed water. As she struggled to get off the halla to drink, she looked down, and saw that the water ran red with blood and was filled with the mangled corpses of what was once her clan. She screamed and hastily sprinted past the halla.
The halla looked alarmed and followed her. Eventually, she came upon the cave the clan had used. Unfortunately due to disuse, the cave was occupied by a pack of four wolves. When the wolves smelled the unlikely pair, they ran out of the cave, snarling. The halla, startled, ran away as fast as it could. It took all that tiny Mya had to stand as still as a rock, as she was taught to do when encountering a wolf. She cautiously reached out a hand. One of the wolves walked to her, careful of the elf. The wolf sniffed her hand. She reached her hand to the wolf's head, hoping to gain its trust. Her hand made contact with the wolf's ear and she scratched. The wolf slowly relaxed with each scratch of it's ear and it's tongue lolled out of it's mouth in a silly display of approval. Mya smiled softly.
"My family is dead. Can I come live with you?" The wolf nuzzled his head against her palm. The other wolves, which were chasing the halla, gave up and approached the girl cautiously. They each took turns smelling the girl for any deception she might give them. Finding none, they accepted her as one of their own.
That night was the first of many horrible nights to come. She saw her clan mates being torn apart by large, human hands. She saw her mother and father beheaded, their corpses burned by the hunters. She woke suddenly, surrounded by her new pack, gasping for air.
"You need to think before you act, da'len." Her mother had said to her. So she thought. The next arlathvhen wasn't for another two years, and she needed to warn the other clan that was in the area, a difficult as this will be. Her wolves whined as they tried to comfort the hurting girl.
"I need to get to the next clan. To warn them that humans are hunting elves. The next arlathvhen isn't for a while." She mumbled. The Free Marches was a big place. To get to the next clan, she was going to have to learn how to track. "You think you guys can teach me some tricks?" She asked her friends.
