This is the first story I've let someone other than my sister read, so please be kind in your critiques. I'd love some feedback on how I can make the characters more relatable and the situations interesting as the story progresses. Thanks for reading!

I've always been the strong one.

Bethany was usually ducking behind my skirts, relying on me to protect her from those who would do her harm. More than once, I've had to get creative with local Templars. Explaining away the unusual things that occurred around my sister was no easy task, especially when those unusual things involved spontaneous combustion.

As bad as his bark was, Carver didn't have much bite. Sure, he picked his fair share of fights with other boys from our village, but he was usually the only one going home with a black eye. And, though he would deny it vehemently, I stepped in during more than one of those brawls to save him embarrassment.

So, why was I watching them rush after an Ogre, its eyes trained on our mother? In the split second it took Carver to reach the grotesque being, it occurred to me that I had frozen in fear when it reared its ugly head. Mouth agape, I watched in horror as it turned slowly toward our mother, steam puffing from its nostrils. Its mouth twisted in sadistic glee. Carver closed in on the beast, and I knew that it should have been me. I should have been the one with my blades drawn, protecting my family from this wretched blight. As the Ogre plucked my little brother from the ground beneath him, my mother's eyes met mine, and I saw the question there.

'Why isn't it you?'

A sickening crack sounded. A thud, as something hit the darkspawn-marred earth. Distantly, Bethany yelled. My feet began to move unconsciously, stumbling over rocks and stunted weeds. Before I could connect that the bloody mass laying at the Ogre's feet was my brother, I was sprinting. My daggers had somehow found their way into my hands and my mouth was open in a soundless scream.

Aveline, who we had only met a few hours before, was hacking away at the creature and blocking my path. I darted past her, rolling between the darkspawn's legs. Its meaty hands tried to snatch me as it did Carver, but I was fast in my rage.

I sliced at its Achilles tendons as I slid. The Ogre bellowed as blood squirted from its wounded left heel. Grimly, I reveled in its pained roars. Bethany let loose a spell, hitting the monster in the right leg. It tumbled to the ground, flailing its dangerous limbs. Aveline charged the thing, stabbing cleanly through through a large hand that was attempting to swat her. Distantly, I knew that I needed to be the one who ended its miserable excuse for a life. If I couldn't take Carver's place in death, I would send his killer to hell, personally.

Still positioned behind the now semi-upright darkspawn, I backed away quickly. As the monster righted itself, I darted forward and jumped onto its uninjured leg. Thrusting my blades into the back of its thigh, I began to climb. I buried one dagger into his flesh at a time, focused on inflicting as much pain as possible. The Ogre screamed in rage, trying to reach behind and grab me. Aveline and Bethany took advantage of its open abdomen, attacking furiously. Reaching the top of the monster's shoulders, I freed one dagger from his back and plunged it into the base of his skull. Life fled the darkspawn's body, and I was thrown from its back as it hit the ground.

"Carver!" Mother screamed, already crouched next to my brother's broken body. She cradled his head in her hands, rocking back and forth, sobs shaking her thin frame. Bethany ran to her with tears in her eyes. Sitting up from where I had landed, I took in the scene.

My frail mother had curled herself around my brother's body, crying so hard that no sound came out. Bethany had practically sprinted to her twin, dread hastening her steps. Somehow, it felt that if I were to raise up and join them in their grief, they would not forgive me. If I were to attempt to comfort or seek comfort from them, they would verbalize what I knew in my heart. I let Carver fight in my stead, and for all his bravery and good intentions, he had been reduced to a heap of gore. My baby sister was now without her twin, and if I hadn't frozen in fear, he would be standing next to her now.

My brother was turned toward me, his unseeing eyes burning into my own. 'Why did you let me go?' they seemed to ask. 'Where were you when the life was squeezed from my lungs?' I pushed off of the ground with bruised hands, limping toward Carver and his unfair questions.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I couldn't tear my eyes from his accusing gaze. Blood leaked from his parted lips, his limbs twisted at strange angles.

"I'm so sorry."