A/N: This is the follow-up to the prequel Brand New World; I suggest reading that before indulging into this work as it lays the foundations of our background for the mage Heroine. It is slightly different from cannon, but I tried to keep it as much as possible to the true version of DA:O as possible, or as much as I could while still keeping it as my version of the mage story-line. However, I have always felt that in the Circle mage origin; that more depth had been needed. That the bonds between a mentor and student could be more without being something inappropriate.

I have tried to convey that in the prequel; without knowing to whom the mage was truly apprenticed to and choosing off what I wanted because of the flow to the story. How different mentors will approach their students about differing issues. How they treat their students and how the apprentices respond. How these bonds are affected by the overbearing watch of the Chantry templars and their scrutiny of them.

Chapter I: Suspicious

It had all happened so quickly. She could not get her head around it. She had read the marked pages and reflected on a few key points. She recalled her friend Jowan growing suspicious lately and then acting oddly. He had told her he had met a girl a few months ago, but Neria had assumed it was nothing more than a fling at best.

She knew she was sleeping still and was quite happy to remain that way for now. But, apparently the Maker did not as she was rudely shaken.

She sat up quickly. Her ice-blue eye wide with fright as she recalled the rage demon that she had encountered merely hours before.

"Ah! Demon?!" She screeched in panic as the hand left her and her own right hand had started to crackle with ice in self-defense

"It's alright. It's me, Jowan, and you're safe." He told her gently

Neria breathed deeply through her nose as her eyes closed. She let out the breath and resumed her gaze as she eyed him cautiously. Jowan had been an apprentice before her and he remained one. At first, his help had seemed useful and without harm, but as she noticed the strange tendrils of magic to him…she was aware that he was not as she had first thought.

"I apologize Jowan. I did not mean to startle you, but I have been through a lot in the last day and a half." She slightly smiled though it was more forced than usual. Jowan had never seen her as a potential lover as a lot had; it had been comforting to her, but also made her wary of his intent. Her appearance had caused her more than enough grievances.

There was one man who she had ever entertained in more than a platonic way, but he was now in solitary confinement for trying to escape the tower. She had aided him and not without consequences. He had protected her and when he was taken away; one of the remaining templars abused his position to try and get her underneath him. She had lashed out and fought with all her magic and might; but, templars were trained to know how to combat and dispel hostile magic.

Irving had been furious when he learned of her abuse and Greagoir had been forced to send one of his own elite to the Aeonar…the mage prison. Neria had kept her distance from others after that, but held hope that her lover would one day come back out of the confinement and they would run together. Not the safest idea considering her station, but she tired of the restrictions over her now.

Her thoughts returned to her as her friend began to speak. He nodded to her silently, though his eyes were wary. She had almost attacked him out of fear as she thought him to be a demon. Were all Harrowing rites like this?

"So, you passed your test and are real mage now. Congratulations." He told her gently

Neria nodded as she stood slowly and walked to the bath and to a vanity where she pulled a brush and began to comb her hair out. He stood there watching her in concern.

"So, what was it like? Is it really such an ordeal? I mean, you did almost turn me into an block of ice for fear of me being a demon?" He asked her eagerly

Her fingers curled tightly to the handle of her brush as she wondered why he had asked of this. He knew she wasn't allowed to tell him. Her ice blue gaze was on herself and the mirror, but Jowan could see how her eyes looked cold to him from there for asking.

"We're friends Jowan, but…please do not ask about this. You know I cannot tell you." She said softly

His eyes seemed to harden at the words as she watched observantly without his notice. He was really acting oddly.

"So much for friendship. I'll leave you alone then." He sneered derisively to the floor, "Now, you'll move up into the fancy mage quarters and I'll be stuck here. I do not know when they'll call me for my Harrowing."

Her heart ached for him in this. Truly.

"They'll call you when both your mentor and the First Enchanter agree that you are ready to endure it. Then they will confer with Greagoir about your training progress and if he agrees; then you will be made an applicant for the ritual." She said, "Irving may be my mentor, but I have no authority to ask favors like that of him. He would never consider it if he thought it would endanger the Circle."

Jowan's shoulders dropped, "I know that and I did not mean to vent on you. It's just that I have been here longer than you have and I begin to worry about if I will ever get my chance to prove myself."

Neria stood as her hair had finally been tamed and gestured for him to turn around. Jowan did so and the elven woman sighed as she dropped her robes and sunk into the tub of water to wash. She knew Jowan had been apprenticed for too long and concurred his worries might be accurate quietly to herself.

"I think you're simply too worried over it, Jowan." She said simply, "I mean, yes, you have been here longer than I. But, you have never given me pause to be concerned over you as a threat."

'At least, not until now.' She thought wearisome

"Why would you be so worried anyhow? You're a fine mage and I know you well-enough to presume that if you were called for the Harrowing that you would pass?"

Jowan's back stiffened and he seemed to not like that statement, she noted.

"Usually when one is not called for the Harrowing, it can mean one of two things. The higher-ups believe you to be dangerous to the circle or too weak-willed to endure and force the Rite of Tranquility on you to keep others safe. Or, if deemed too dangerous; the templars are to execute you."

Neria's hands paused in thought as she finished her bath and stood to dry off and to dress.

"They're not going to kill you Jowan." She said; though she had her wariness of his new behaviors

She had just finished adjusting her robes as Jowan turned again and smiled slightly, "I hope so. Oh, I nearly forgot. First Enchanter Irving has summoned you to see him. You probably should not keep him waiting for too much longer."

Neria nodded and sighed as she watched him go. Foreboding and dread seeped into her. What had her friend gotten himself into while she was unaware. Whatever it was, it did not seem to be a simplistic fix…

The walk upstairs had been hard on her. Every step like a crash of thunder that beat in her ears as she tried to ignore the other stares of her former fellow apprentices. They stared, whispered as if she couldn't hear them when they knew that she would, and shied away from her.

"Have you heard?" One said, "She passed the Harrowing. That templar Cullen…he told me it was quickest and cleanest Harrowing he'd ever seen. He said she's very talented and very brave."

"Of course he'd say that…" The next sneered as if she weren't there

Neria was numb inside; what had she done differently than so many others to receive the accolades being gifted to her. She knew the young templar named Cullen; they had spoken a few times, and she was aware that he had a small crush on her too. It was obvious to all. She had refrained from indulging the idea. It wasn't that Cullen was bad looking; on contrary, he was quite handsome and a gentleman for a templar, but she couldn't allow herself to give into that temptation.

She approached the doors to her mentor's office and paused as she now saw a new argument brewing. One that had the label 'storm' written across it and was seen vaguely in Irving's face. She stood off to one side and appeared to be unnoticed by all except a man she did not recognize and one who wore unfamiliar armor. He did not announce her to them either.

"Many have already gone to Ostagar." Greagoir said firmly, "Wynne, Uldred, and most of the Senior Mages. We have committed enough of our own to the war efforts."

Irving then stood straight and Neria saw the flash of warning and lethality in his eyes that warned the Knight-Commander that he had crossed a line.

"Your own? Since when have you ever felt such kinship with the mages here, Greagoir? Or are you afraid to allow the mages out from underneath Chantry control where they might be able to actually use their Maker given talents?" Irving argued with a fierceness Neria had never seen

Greagoir's jaw clenched in anger, "How dare you suggest…

The strange man then interrupted, "Gentleman please. Irving, you have a guest."

Irving then turned and saw her standing there like a pillar of strength and smiled brightly as his anger calmed down near instantly.

"Ah, if it isn't our newest sister in the Circle. Come in, child." He beckoned her as the dark-skinned man approached, "This is…" he questioned

Irving nodded, "Yes. This is she."

Greagoir sighed, "You're obviously busy Irving, so we shall resume this discussion later."

He left as Irving nodded, "Yes, of course. Now where was I? Ah, oh!"

"Let me introduce you to Duncan, head of the Grey Wardens here in Fereldan." Irving told her as Neria bowed and smiled politely to him, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Duncan merely inclined as Irving then smiled, "You have passed the Harrowing. Here are your new robes, your staff, and the Ring of Study. Your phylactery was taken to Denerim and your belongings are to be moved to the new rooms that are to be yours by the tranquil later this afternoon."

Neria smiled softly, "Thank you First Enchanter."

Duncan then spoke, "I am sorry, but…what is this phylactery you spoke of?"

Irving then had a dark look about him and Duncan saw the young woman fidget oddly.

"A phylactery is a vial of blood that is taken from every mage when they come to a Circle. It is…preserved inside of a special vial and stored away under lock and key." He said slowly

Duncan then seemed to pause here, "So, they are made for the templars to use if one turns apostate and is then used to locate the rogue mage?"

Neria sighed with a sad feeling as Irving watched her momentarily before he nodded, "We have few choices. So many outside these walls treat the gift of magic with suspicion and fear. We have to be able to prove that we can handle our gifts responsibly."

Irving turned to her now, "You have done this. With the Harrowing behind you, take this day to rest. Read and relax in the library if you want."

Neria nodded, "I will. Thank you."

Duncan spoke, "I will return to my quarters."

Irving nodded, "Will you please escort Duncan?"

I nod absently and then head out with the strange man behind me. The walk was silent and both of us said nothing. As we entered, Duncan turned and thanked me. I wanted to walk out then, but paused as something came to mind.

"Why were the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander arguing over the war in the south?" I ask suddenly

Duncan paused, "I am not sure it is my place to say, but you are Irving's student, so perhaps you know more than others. A Blight has begun and I was sent by King Cailan to request more aid from the Circle. We have several units of mages, but we do need more than we have at present."

"I had hoped to have enough mages to place one or two within every contingent as mages will make all the difference in the battles to come. They can call upon fire or ice. They can heal injuries and save lives amid the field of combat. The darkspawn have their own magic and we need to be prepared."

Neria saw the tensing of his frame and decided to be selfish for once in her life.

"I understand, but seeing as Irving was my mentor…I feel I should ask for more. He has enough troubles and I only hope to ease his stress as I can."

Duncan saw her subtle motions and then chuckled slightly as ice-blue eyes stared at him. He sighed, "I suppose I have already said more than enough to allow me to say more as is. You know well enough that the Chantry merely tolerates magic?"

I nod here, "Yes, but Irving and Greagoir were arguing over the war?"

Duncan sighed, "Greagoir is a templar first and foremost; trained to contain spells he sees as gone awry and left to deal with the mage who cast it. He is only then a very skilled warrior without magical abilities and this Blight has him torn over which way to respond to the King's request."

"He fears what will happen when the war is over and the mages that have been free of their supposed containment for the war are supposed to return there. Many mages resent being forced to live like prisoners in a gilded cage. He fears that the sensation of freedom will drive them to fight to keep it. That needless bloodshed will occur due to the refusal."

Neria bit her lips, "I see. I suppose I can see why Greagoir is worried and I can relate to the issues some. There have been times, early after my arrival, I resented being brought here. Though, had I not been…I likely would have died soon."

Duncan eyed her momentarily and refrained from asking after that, "So, mages like yourself must have an opinion as to the war?"

Neria wondered what this was about but shrugged and snorted in amusement to the question, "Of course we do, but most dare not to openly speak of it. Many mages do value a life of freedom true, but most would throw the ideal away when faced with how the real world is for shelter and food. I find the tower to be a home to me and a good one so long as you adhere to the rules. As long as you aren't trying to summon demons or reanimate the dead; the tower is a fine place to live."

Her eyes then lighted as a small smirk edged to her lips, "Of course, even I grow tired and wearisome of the life in a Circle Tower. I even considered running several times to try and make a break for myself, but I never actually managed to follow through. And, I also know what life outside without anyone or anything to protect you can be like."

"Many, if not mostly all, mages value their lives over all else; few are innately kind or generous by nature; even healers. In my personal opinion, I believe mages aiding the war would be not only beneficial for success, but also essential. I have read that some darkspawn have their own brands of magic; magic that only able mages or templars could negate without losses and you have already succinctly confirmed my words."

Duncan stared now to this elven woman in surprise, "You have studied quite a lot then. You do not fear your magical power or what others will think of it?"

Neria smiled softly, "Did you ever hear the tale of the elven child mage who was found sleeping in the Brecillian Forest?"

Duncan's brows rose, "I know of it yes. A female mage of elven blood was found heavily wounded and floating while asleep to heal herself. It was like the templars had stumbled into a live version of the tale of Snow White."

Neria smiled, "That child was me, Ser Duncan."

Duncan then looked to her in surprise as Neria shuffled her robes about, "I have always had an extraordinary ability to control my magic and the raw magic around me no matter the emotional state I am in. Bandits murdered my parents before me and the merchants they traveled with. They turned to me and I killed them with raw magic while in shock."

"Magic that was flung in precise motions and hit veins and arteries directly." She then looked hollow as her eyes dimmed, "I blacked out after that and my magic teleported me to the forest. I think it hoped that a wandering Dalish clan would find me and take me in. It put me to sleep and I vaguely now recall the feeling of being weightlessness. That must have been the floating aspect."

She then looked to him, "I was brought here and healed by Wynne for days while Irving had barricaded Greagoir and several of his elites from my room. They wanted to kill me and Irving refused to allow it, just as he refused to allow me to be shipped off to the White Spire for my training so soon after I woke up."

Neria gazed softly out the guest room window, "I was an exotic oddity here for most of my childhood and early years of apprenticeship. Irving angered many when he chose me as his next student after so long of refusing to mentor others."

Neria smiled, "Magic exists to serve man; not rule over him. I was born a mage and will always be a mage. I know myself and do not fear my power; only what it could do should I lose myself. I learn to focus my will, so my power is of my making. I know to use it with responsible care and only at the service of others to make things better and not worse."

Duncan smiled now. This woman was full of surprises and he nodded, "Irving has taught you well. I suppose I should let you return to your duties. It has been a pleasure, Lady Neria."

I nod and walk to the door, wondering what sort-of impression I made to him. I was lost in thought and nearly walked right into Jowan.

"Hello again, Jowan." I say politely

He nods, "Are you done speaking to Irving?"

I smile, "I think I am for now."

He hesitates, "There's something I wanted to talk you about, but we can't do this here."

I raise my brows, "You're starting to worry me."

He tried to smile, but it failed.

"I've been troubled lately. Come on, follow me." He asked and I warily walk beside him now