It's hard to think how much I've changed. Before I had never imagined myself as a mother, or wife, or leader. I never thought of myself as more than a pawn. In the Carpenters' game. In Flemeth's. It didn't matter really, I was content to be pushed around another person's chess board and pretend that I didn't care. Now, though, now I don't think I could go back to earth, back to my little bubble of ignorance. But all of that aside, this is my story. Daughter, sister, wife, lover, leader, none of those titles matter. Some may even call my story one of self-discovery, or about family, or friendship, or just of a young girl trying to find her way in the world. It is also one about magic, dragons, and my favorite: meddling immortal assholes.

It sounds crazy, I know. I lived it, but I wish I could make something this ridiculous up. Never in my wildest dreams could I make this shit up. I lived through it all. I grew, I broke, I was put back together piece by piece. I grieved, I was betrayed. I gained the power to bring the world to its knees.

The entire world rallied around me, and I hated every minute of it. I live by a strange form of luck, the kind of luck that makes you want to both curse and thank Andraste and the Maker and whatever other deity was out there. It probably runs in my blood, because my siblings were no less extraordinary. We were all the kind of people who couldn't sit by and watch the world crumbled, we had to use our blood, sweat, and tears to hold it all together.

Now, I want to set the record straight. I want to make sure that everyone knows the truth, no matter what Varric says about me in his books. The hardest part is the beginning, because there are a hundred places I could begin this story. I could start it when I was born, but anything up until I was 10 would be patchy at best and completely made up at worst. It would be filled with holes where there are no memories. There would be places where I am not sure if what I remember is true or if it is something I made up in a desperate attempt to remember my childhood. I could start it when I was 10, when I landed on earth and became a whole new person. But I was a kid, and nothing really mattered to me then.

I have the perfect place. Now that I think about it, this is the only time that makes sense.

I am Shaylyn and my story starts here.

I hummed to myself as the credits rolled on my television screen for the 8th time. The now familiar words of I'm Not Calling You a Liar played through the room. Part of me couldn't stop myself from singing along.

"There's a ghost in my lungs and it sighs in my sleep

Wraps itself around my tongue as it softly speaks

Then it walks, then it walks with my legs

To fall, to fall, to fall at your feet"

The song finishes off and my singing stops, the apartment falling quiet. A shiver passed over me at the now eerie feeling, and I quickly moved to turn on some music or something to fill the silence. The chill, however, was not coming from the emptiness of my apartment, but from the open window. It was a strangely cold April, and pulling out my phone made me realize just how cold it was. Currently, it was -1 degree outside, putting it just 2 degrees above the record cold for the month. A layer of frost had made its home on my window, and I couldn't help beauty admire the strange beauty of the tendrils. I shook the thought out of my head and went back to what I had been doing for what seemed like the past week.

Returning to my desk, which had become a mess of paper and pencils, with my computer sitting in the middle. It was ordered chaos, everything in a place but none of those places having any rhyme or reason. I was in a strange sense panic, trying my best to get my feet off the ground. A small buzz was heard from elsewhere, making me scramble to figure out where I left my damn phone.

It turns out it was on my sofa, which actually makes a lot of sense, since I was there not even 10 minutes ago. Unlocking the phone led to a display, the display that led to this whole scramble.

1286 days

Which may seem like a long time, but it was only 3 years and a couple of months.

3 years, 6 months, 7 days

Ah, yes. Exactly 3 years, 6 months, 7 days before I had to be a completely self-sufficient adult or would be doomed to a job I couldn't stand, a marriage I did not agree to, and would be forever trapped in the claws of the Carpenters. To most people, it might seem like a blessing, but the Carpenter's don't care about me. I'm just a pawn in their game.

Another buzz, this time a text message.

Lena: How's the job hunt going

I sighed, Lena was a good friend, and a constant rock while I had to complete my obligatory quest for my freedom. I met her a couple years back on the internet, when I was a stupid 20-year-old and thought I knew everything. She's actually the one that bought me the first two Dragon Age games. I'm glad for her support, otherwise, I probably would've given up already.

Shay: Not well…

Shay: Another rejection, at this rate I'll have to give up and go crawling back to the king and queen.

She was quick to respond as always, giving me another dose of her endless optimism.

Lena: Don't give up yet, I'm sure someone will recognize your brilliance eventually

I sigh, and set the phone down, walking out onto the balcony. It's cold, and I shiver. I'm not quite sure why it's so cold in the middle of April, but part of me likes it. The colder it is, the longer I can take picture of frost and snow, and those tend to be some of my favorite.

"This is not the life that you were destined for, but you have adapted well, and you shall adapt again"

I heard the voice behind me, and I jumped, started out of my revelry with the shock of a voice I had only heard in games. I turned around, half expecting that I had imagined the entire thing. There she was, in all her slightly terrifying glory, Flemeth. I wanted to say something, I really did, but I was just frozen.

"I nudge history when it's required. This time, a shove is needed."

I was backing away from her, from her and her aura. It felt wrong and unnatural. I was pushed back against the railing of my balcony, terrified. She was right in front of me now. Suddenly, her words sank in, and I wanted to be anywhere else in the world.

She was right, a shove was needed. A shove that had me falling from the 16th story of my apartment building.