When I was eight years old my parents took my sister to the Circle. They allowed me to come along as they didn't know what else to do with me. I was inconsolable and couldn't understand why she had to be sent away. She was my conspirator, my best friend and the only person who understood my almost incessant need to find trouble. You see, I didn't find trouble, I made an effort to make trouble go away when I found it. As a nobleman's child this was seen as a bad thing. Rose never thought of things as so black and white. I was nobility and therefore I could not turn my head when something was wrong! It was my responsibility to look and do to change things. She understood this basic truth about me. But she was the only one.

When it was discovered she could make magic happen, and her dreams led her into the Fade, however she was to be ripped away from me. Mother and Father arranged to take her themselves to the Templars at the Circle. They loved her dearly as the daughter they could always look to when it came to doing the right and proper things. Rose was beautiful and smart, well-spoken and spoke Elfish with the servants as if she had been born an elf herself. (Mind you this was by no means desirable by my Mother's standards, but it came in handy sometimes when Mother needed a mediator). Little Thoriane (That's me and its pronounced Thorn before you go getting ideas and wiggling your lips around) was at best disappointing. These facts made it hard for themselves to imagine letting my sweet sister go, especially as she was only a year away from her debut age and marriage prospects were already flooding in from all directions.

The day came and I was packed up with all the care of the ugly spare luggage you keep in the tower wardrobe so that no one has to see it. They bundled me up and away from the light too early for my tastes, but I was a willing participant if it meant seeing my sister in the last moments she would have as a free person. I couldn't understand why these dreams and why these awesome magical moments that spurted from her unbidden at times was a bad thing. Couldn't she learn to control them here with me? I could keep her safe from bad things. I was sure of it. These things were out of my hands. Mother and Father had each given siblings to the Templar order and believed with their whole hearts that there was a reason that Andraste and the Maker set this path for Rose.

On the third day of our travels I learned another reason that Rose had to go to the Circle as soon as possible. Mages were dangerous.

We had left the inn earlier than we had intended. By night fall we were going to be at the Circle and my sister would forever be lost to me. I held to her as we bounced around the carriage, seeming to lam against every small or medium sized rock that lay between us and our separation. I don't know how I was able to sleep, but I managed. It was what saved me, in the end.

They had surrounded the carriage just out of sight of where Ostwick's Circle mages were housed. A group of nine, a magic number, something I now find amusing as I sit with my own nine and battle to save the known world. The nine apostates were attempting to thwart the will of anyone taking a mage to the Circle. They believed that mage should be free and the consequences of such freedom should be their own choice. My sister was dragged from the carriage, and my head fell from her lap onto the cushion. Drowsy I assumed nothing was going on until I heard shouting and my sister's voice ringing through the night, telling the apostates to stand down and allow her to make the decision that they wanted for themselves.

Thinking back to Rose's way with words I wish she were here now to write my speeches and tell me what no to say. She would be on everyone's good side. Even Solas with his smooth way of letting me know that he disdains anyone that likes the Circles. How I still have than elf on my team is beyond me. I would have thought that he'd have run screaming into the night with my 'cage the mage' attitudes some days. I digress. And besides, there will be plenty of room for this after I explain why I think the way that I do.

I stumbled from the carriage rubbing my sore eyes, trying to force the granules of sleep from them and see what was going on. I could smell something burning, but I couldn't see what it was. There was a ball of fire behind a man, at the end of his stick. A long torch maybe? I'd never seen a staff before that night. Mother and Father never would have allowed an armed mage within our castle walls.

I only had the chance to speak my sister's name, wanting to ask her what was going on before more happened in a moment than I could process. Here are the events in slow motion before I speed it up and tell you how it all felt to eight year old me.

Rose turned and looked at me. Seeing the apostate at the head of the group starting to aim his long torch-stick in my direction, startled, she leapt into action, running at me. I fell under her weight but not before the spell the apostate had called forth hit us both. The majority slammed into my sister's face while the rest hit my face, just around my left eye and along the length of my left leg, the only two spaces that were exposed under my sister's teenage body. Everyone was still after that.

Speed things up a bit and all I knew was that the weight of bear had been slammed into my chest and I was on the ground, writhing in white hot pain as I couldn't breathe and the spell ate away at my skin. I had no idea what was going on when I finally blacked out.

When I awoke a few days later Mother was hovering over my bed, holding my hands and petting my face. She's never done that since, mind you or had before that I can remember. When she realized I was awake she kissed my forehead and left the room, going and getting the mage from the Circle that was the reason I was waking at all. He stroked my forehead and smiled at me. He told me that I was lucky. I had been saved from death. For what purpose it was up to me to find out in time. There were still some scars neither his magic nor his herbs could heal.

That was when I realized I was not in pain and I rapidly sat up, giving myself an instant headache. When that abated for a time I started asking for Rose. No one would answer me or look me in the eyes. Rose. Where was Rose? Finally an old Templar, whose name I have since forgotten, sat with me on the bed and said he would tell me if I agreed to sit still and listen to his whole story.

What else could I do? I sat. And I listened.

He arrived as I writhed there on the ground, the smell of burning flesh in the air as he and his party tore the apostates down one by one. They had been hunting these people, searching for their hide outs and their secret places, but there had been no luck until today.

I started to speak, to ask what this had to do with anything, but he gave me a look that silenced me again as I stretched out my leg, now dotted and marked with veiny scars.

He was sad as he told me that they had been too late. That because he hadn't been there in time my sister had saved my life at the expense of her own. He had witnessed as she ran towards me, arms around my body and the explosion of fire had engulfed her back. But it had been unholy fire, built of blood magic and had not merely burned her, but turned her to something else, hard and stone like. They had buried her ashes deep within the Circle vaults just that morning.

I was distraught. I was again inconsolable at the knowledge that now my sister wasn't merely a human distance from me but she was gone forever. She was with the Maker. And at the hands of the apostates who thought their abilities shouldn't have been controlled. I got up and left him there, his story now done and my freedom again regained, I ran around as much as my battered body allowed me until I came to sit at a pool of water. I was amazed that they allowed the Circle mages these massive almost outdoor gardens. They were beautiful. I leaned over and looked at my reflection. A dotted line rimmed my left eye, all red and scar-y looking, with a single small, angry red line like it was drawn there. Good. No one would look at me the same way, I thought then. I was right but it was for different reasons.

I no longer had the censure that was Rose's good influence. I was smart mouthed and insolent. I would climb the roofs of the buildings and hide from Mother and Father. When my older brother joined the Chantry as was expected I didn't bid him farewell, but lay on a tower roof and watched the proceedings. I found myself in all manner of precarious situations thanks to my audacity and lack of fear. What was left to fear in this world? Death was nothing but a way to Rose. I became known for my night time escapes through our keep, dealing with thieves and bullies.

It wasn't long before I began to venture out of the keep and into the streets and the wilds. This was where my Mother apparently drew her line. She would allow her only surviving daughter to wear pants as the scars that might be shown were horrible. She would allow me to ignore conventions and practice blade skills in the tower rather than managing a household. But going out and seeking apostates hiding in the woods was a job for the Templars, not a young Lady Trevelyan.

I wound up through a mixture of threats and promises as my family emissary to the Conclave. Well, to be fair I was essentially going to be a steward to my brother who was with the Chantry under the name of my family. I was to be the tag-a-long and it was his job to keep me out of trouble.

Needless to say – he failed. That is where my story could really be said to begin.