Chapter 1: Both Savior and Murderer

"Are you sure you can't simply let me go?" Myr smiled nervously at the men approaching her. They had been looking for her for a long time, and it showed on their faces, shallow and angered.

"Your crimes will be answered to. Myr, you are hereby sentenced to death." The leader of the soldiers drew his sword, pointing it threateningly at the elf girl. "By order of the Divine and through the guidance of the Maker, our righteous duty shall be done."

Myr had a witty comeback, but it caught in her throat when the sword came after her, striking the air in the spot she had stood only a half second before. While she was glad the first attack didn't end her life, the rest of the men were advancing on her now, weapons drawn, and she couldn't help but feel unlucky.

Drawing her dagger, the elf backed away slowly, eyes darting while she desperately searched for an escape. She was in the middle of nowhere, literally. It was just a single dust road marking passage through the vast grasslands that was the Bannorn. Only a few sparse trees could give cover, if she could even get to them.

How the hell did they find me? Myr danced back a step after a second swing from one of the men, but it put her slightly off balance. She only barely avoided the third attack. It was apparent that her life would end soon and if one of them pulls out a bow, it'll be over even faster.

"You don't think..." Myr darted behind a tree as an axe buried into it, cutting a single strand of her snow-white hair off, the wind displaced from the strike ruffling it. "Damn it. Do you know how much effort I put into my hair?" As if that was her biggest problem right now...

"Your hair won't matter when you're dead, apostate."

"They didn't send anybody to kill me last time I escaped!" Admittedly, that was over two years ago. "Besides, if I hadn't left I would have died in that abomination rebellion. I saved myself!"

"You'll die anyway, mage."

"Didn't that Hero of Ferelden guy make the mages free of the Chantry?"

"Be silent and die, heathen!" Another dodge. If Myr so much as stood still and stopped planning, they'd surround her. And then...

Another swing, but this one struck home. The blade slashed through her arm sleeves, cutting her lightly. It wasn't a deadly wound, but it put the elf girl off balance, opening her wide for a more lethal strike.

The nearest man took the opportunity, sword extending towards her heart. Myr closed her eyes, knowing death was upon her. She escaped death only to find death. Pity.

The killing blow never came, though. The men had gone silent, but Myr wasn't sure why. Why wasn't she lying on the floor, bleeding to death?

It can't be... Myr opened her eyes slowly, to find the nearest two of her attackers lying on the ground, arrows sprouting from them, their lifeblood pooling, weighing down the dust as it struggled to rise.

The rest of the men had started searching for the assailant, but Myr saw him first. It was a young man a distance away to the west, perpendicular to the road, bow in hand and string pulled back. Noticing him, the men started charging to him, shields raised. The sniper was a great distance away, but that would make aiming that much harder.

He couldn't possibly kill one of these guys from so far away...His first two shots had to be lucky. Or maybe he could. His next arrow dug itself in the eye of one man, then a second arrow caught a man in the heart. Four men lay on the ground, bleeding to death after only a few moments. Whoever the archer was, he was good. Really good.

Finally, things were looking up for her. Myr smiled, bringing her dagger in front of her. There were only three more attackers left.

Nope. Two. An arrow lodged itself in the skull of the back-most man, his corpse slumping on the ground. The remaining two, seeing their dead comrades, turned and ran, legs pumping hard as they tried to flee the archers aim.

They couldn't. Both fell from arrows, their bodies adding to those already sent to the Maker. Myr couldn't help but feel satisfaction. She was still alive, despite everything. She couldn't help but laugh, even though it was only due to relief.

She had to thank the sniper, whoever he was. Except... he was leaving? He didn't even want to hide the bodies?

"W-Wait!" Myr took off running, hoping to catch up to the man, despite the distance.

It took her a while.

ooo

"Wait..." Myr's voice came in gasps, so great was her exhaustion. She'd chased the man for over an hour, and though she knew he heard her, the archer never bothered slowing his absurd pace. It was only when he set up camp for the night that he finally halted, allowing Myr to join him. "I just...wanted...to thank you...and...why the hell couldn't...you...wait...?"

"You were following me?" The man looked up at her quizzically, his face confused. It was only then that Myr finally saw him, and suddenly she nearly regretted following him. The man was young, but beat up. Bags under his eyes, face sunken and face matted with patches of beard. He looked like he'd been living in the Wilds of all places, with no proper food or water. If he was some crazy nomad, this probably wasn't such a great idea... "I didn't realize."

What a blatant lie.

"I want to thank you for saving me." Myr approached him, hand outstretched. The man simply stared at it. "I...uh...probably would have died if you hadn't attacked those men."

ooo

Why was she still here? Saul turned over on his bedroll. He hadn't meant for the girl he saved to track him down and stay with him. He glanced at her, tending the fire and cooking some strange creature she claimed was edible. She has to leave...

"Listen, girl..."

"What's your name?" She interrupted him. Damn it. Saul wasn't sure how to react. He hadn't talked to anyone on a normal basis in over a year. Conversations were alien to him. Might as well simply tell the truth.

"Saul."

"No last name?" The girl gave him a sly smile. "Or do you simply not want to tell me? I won't pry. We all have our secrets."

"Some have more than others." Saul, suddenly unsure what to say, fiddled with his bow, which he always kept by his side.

"Aren't you going to ask me my name? How impolite!"

"Fine. What's your name?" Saul looked up at her, noticing her eyes. They were light purple, odd, consider how she also had white hair. People can't have that color eyes and hair, so why...?

"I'm Myr Laurae, a mage of the Circle of Magi...or I was, at least."

"You're an apostate?" Shocked as Adrian was at the though, ut was simply a question, not a form of judgment, and Saul hoped she would take it as such. Wait? What? He hoped for that? Why was he relying on the opinions and reactions of others?

"Yup. I've been out of the Circle Tower since before the Blight started, and I guess all the darkspawn surfacing must have prevented them from chasing me. Now that it's over, though... Well, I'm surprised you haven't jumped up and attack me yet. Most people hate mages, even more so if they get out of the Circle."

"I imagine that meant those men I killed were Templars?" Saul sighed. Great. Another cause for people to start investigating into him. Maybe he shouldn't have saved her. "They weren't wearing their usual armor."

"They were disguised." Simple as that, huh? "They wanted to ambush me."

"Are you some sort of Abomination?" Saul gestured to her, gazing at her hair and eyes. What odd colors...

"Because of the way I look?" Myr rolled her eyes, gazing back at the fire and the creature she was cooking. "I was born this way. The tranquil doctor in the Tower said I had albinism, or something like that. He also mentioned something about melons, though I wasn't sure."

Albinism? There was a servant at the Cousland Castle who had that condition, except he had red eyes and light blonde hair. The pale skin was the same, though. It was curious, but ultimately useless, information. The key was not who this girl was, but how he'd deal with having another person around him.

"Say, since you protected me, I was wondering if I could ask you one more favor." Myr glanced back at Saul, who was still staring at her hair. "Can I...travel with you? From the direction we're heading, we should hit Denerim within a week, and if you could just take me there, I..."

Having her follow him would be a burden, as he'd have to watch after two people, not just himself. And considering she was an apostate, that would make things even more difficult. But...how long had it been since he had a proper meal...

Fine. If she was going to cook she was useful, thus the detriments of having her along would be overshadowed by the positive aspects.

It wasn't like Saul planned on murdering anyone else anytime soon, so this Myr girl would likely never find out.

'Tis better that way.

"Fine. You can come with me, but only to Denerim." Saul laid back down on his bedroll, still fiddling with the bow. "In return for escorting you, I want you to cook for me every night, just like this. Wake me when the food is ready, and make sure you keep watch!"

Myr only smiled.

ooo

Sword at throat, the peasant didn't struggle much. He just stared at Rayne, fear and a hint of anger showing.

"P-Please... I-I-I don't know anything!" He just blubbered, his words hardly coherent. Rayne spat, disgusted. Fear drove this man to becoming a pathetic wretch. He was better off dead.

"If you don't know anything, you die. Where is Vilhm Madon?"

"You're the King's men! Why are you doing this?" The man was near pissing his pants now.

"Where is he!" Rayne brought herself closer, a hair away from the merchant's face. Rayne could hear the soldiers behind her shifting on their feet, unnerved by the display. The blade on the man's neck was near drawing blood now.

"I don't know anymore! I only know...I only know he's in hiding right now. I wouldn't know where..." Rayne relaxed her grip, letting the man fall backwards, gripping the wall to keep himself standing. "Please... I have a wife and kids..."

Rayne just stared, eventually turning around and walking away. She could tell the man was finally realizing he was safe, that he wasn't going to die after all. Rayne ran a hand across her neck as she passed a soldier. He shuddered, knowing what it meant.

The peasant didn't understand what was going on until two men advanced on him, pulling him to the ground and raising their axe. He screamed, but nobody came to help him. He pleaded, begged and whined all the way until his head was severed.

"Captain, are you sure this is right?" A shaken soldier asked as Rayne passed, finally severing the silence that had fallen over their patrol.

"Curb your tongue, or you'll find your head on the ground soon enough." Rayne turned away, outwardly portraying cold acceptance.

Inwardly, she didn't understand either. Why was Adrian giving these orders? Why was this Vilhm Madon so important as to execute these people?

What was going on?

Rayne led her troupe back to the palace in silence, their presence causing every street urchin and commoner to scuffle out of the way hurriedly. Even the nobles grew nervous in their presence.

There was fear, Rayne knew, but nobody knew the source of it. The people didn't know who to blame in the rapid change of events, and as thus simply withdrew while they sought out answers.

Rayne wasn't in any better of a position. Adrian was searching for Vilhm, and he did so with a fervor she'd never seen in him before.

It was desperation. But why?

ooo

"And there's these nasty rumors going around about him, too!" Myr shuddered, and Saul couldn't help but marvel at the level of animation she was showing. It was...odd to be in the company of other people again, to see reactions he could understand, to talk and be noisy, not constantly enveloped in the silence of nature.

"But is the Chancellor actually doing what they say he is?" Saul was intrigued at this. Everything in recent history was new to him. He knew of the Blight, but kept far away from the Horde during his exile. Yet he had no idea that King Cailan died, as well as there being a new monarch, and the addition of a Grey Warden Chancellor. A mage, nonetheless! "And what do you think he's after?"

"Obviously, he's looking for something he knows threatens his power. That's how corrupt rulers always act. Except he's being quiet about it, he doesn't want any open riots or rampant fear going about the city." Myr turned away, gazing out at Denerim, which they could see in the distance, just to the South-east. The two had been walking for hours, yet Myr seemed to show no signs of exhaustion, unlike Saul had expected. She was strong, as if she was used to days of walking, though her slender frame seemed to forbid that notion. She had claimed to have been running from the Circle for some time, maybe she had spent time in solitary exile just as Saul had? "Truth be told, I don't know much about the chancellor. Don't even know his name, but yeah, I'd believe he's actually doing it. I don't trust people in positions of power. Period."

"Why not?" Saul winced, considering his family was very much influential, although he had no authority as it was.

"Because humans are naturally selfish and unrealistic. If one is in the position of power, they'd want all the authority, try to make every decisions themselves and think that they're doing a good job, no matter what." Myr sighed. "They'll undermine any sort of equality in people. They become dictators, tyrants and bastards who has only one desire: More power."

"Not every human king becomes a dictator."

"Most do." Now it was Saul's turn to sigh.

"You only hold that position because you're an elf."

"I maintain that many, if not most, human decisions are bad ones. Like the creation of the Circle of Magi, or all the distrust towards the Dalish." Myr folded her arms.

"Most consider magic to be dangerous, you know."

"I've dealt with that fact most of my life."

Saul wasn't sure what to say now. The girl's mood suddenly seemed dampened. A few scatterings of things to say came to mind, but ultimately he felt the best thing to say was nothing. They walked in silence.

"Everyone is afraid of something." Myr muttered eventually. "Some simply fear their god, others prefer their object of disdain to be more earthly, like elves or mages. Fear provides an out for their troubles, a quick thing to blame in times of need. A scapegoat."

"Not every human relies upon fear." Saul glanced at the dying sun, sinking in the distance. "For some, other emotions drive them. Like anger, or desire. Everyone lives their life differently."

"No two people are the same." The elf hung her head, kicking up dust as she walked. "They told us that mages were evil, though, without an exception. We were bombs just waiting to go off. Weapons that should be kept under lock and key."

"They?"

"The templars. Our 'guardians.' They hated us, vilified us! Even the new recruits were so brainwashed as to believe their putrid nonsense about the 'evils' of my kind. Their helmets just... made them seem even less human than they already did. They had no faces for us to launch our anger at. For some, it made it easier to hate them. For others, it only made them seem invulnerable." Myr glanced up, a sly smile playing on her face. "But we always got them back. Never violently, or anything, but we got our revenge in small ways."

"How so?" Mages pulling pranks? Mirth tugged at the corners of Saul's mouse, but he withheld it. To laugh would be to relax, and he knew he should never do that.

"I remember a friend of mine was once falsely accused of pilfering chocolate from the storage caverns. He repaid the templar that framed him by summoning fade fleas to torment the man." Myr giggled. "Of course that only got him in more trouble, but he became somewhat of a hero."

"What happened to him?"

"Well, he was sent to Ostagar right after his Harrowing. Nobody was sure why, but I think it's because of the prank." Myr looked away. "A cruel fate, for one so innocent as he."

"Ostagar?" The name sounded familiar. Something important happened there, something that had started a plethora of rumors in the few towns Saul visited while in exile. "Didn't something really bad happen there?"

"The darkspawn army killed King Cailan there, as well as nearly every Grey Warden in Ferelden." Myr stared into Saul's eyes. "You really have been disconnected from reality, haven't you?"

"I've had more important things to deal with."

"More important than an event that reshaped Ferelden?"

"To me, yes." The sun had sunk beneath the western horizon now, last rays of light playing on Denerim, in the distance. It was almost beautiful, but Saul wasn't sure if he could appreciate it.

"And what would that be?" Myr leaned against of the sparse trees they passed. Saul noticed she was tired, and he was as well.

"We'll camp here tonight. Let's get away from the road before it's dark." Saul motioned towards a copse. "In those trees would be preferable."

"Cautious of the road?" Myr smirked. "You afraid of something?"

"You're an apostate. You should be fearful one."

"Well, dashing rogues usually save me from them every time."

Saul was taken aback by her comment, his hands unconsciously reaching to his scratchy beard and unkempt hair, running to his shoulders. He couldn't possibly be called handsome, considering how he hadn't even had a bath in a few months. Oh. She was being sarcastic.

"It's probably best not to insult your saviors." Saul broke through the thin wall of leaves, entering the copse. "Especially one who is armed."

Myr just laughed. "Touche. I'll keep that in mind."

ooo

Myr slept well, at least until Saul woke her in the middle of the night, telling her it was her turn to watch. And then he demanded she stayed away from the fire! Such injustices...

"Protect my vision in the dark, by the Maker's golden arse." Myr sat in the cold, uncomfortable stillness that was the treetop. She could see Saul below, turning in his sleep. He did that a lot, it seemed. Was he having nightmares?
The elf girl gazed out at the Bannorn, cloaked in the darkness that was night, illuminated only slightly by the crescent moon hanging in the sky. There wasn't much to look at, just the darkened plains of the uninspiring grasslands. It reminded her of the Tower of Magi, in a way.

Myr was genuinely surprised that Saul let her stay with him, despite her being an apostate. She had decided to tell him sooner, rather than later, of that fact, as if he had found out she was an illegal mage on his own, he would likely have been less accepting. Or maybe he would have reacted the same? There was no way to tell.

She had walked with Saul most of the day as well as the last couple of days. Every night he demanded they take turns watching the roads for signs of people searching for them, or darkspawn, or any sort of danger.

He was too fearful, almost to the point of paranoia. Always watching, careful like a hawk. Saul definitely was an odd person. Maybe it would have been best if she hadn't requested his presence?

No. She was safer this way. Saul was strange, sure, but he was a decent enough conversation and was most likely not insane. The only thing Myr had left to wonder was why Saul was so mysterious, and why he seemed like he'd been living off grasses and roots for his entire life.

"Maybe he has..." Myr muttered under her breath, eyes still wandering the still blackness that surrounded her. "Maybe he's Chasind!"

That'd be exciting.

But he didn't look it, obviously. Chasind had dark skin and hair, but Adrian was light, fair skinned with blonde hair. Unkempt as he was, his skin did seem unusually delicate for one who claimed to be a nomad.

Everyone has their own circumstances, she tried to tell herself. Not everyone needs to know everything about everyone else.

But she couldn't help but wonder, of course.

Myr laid back against the tree, turning her gaze to the sky, brazenly ignoring her duties as watch-girl. Her mind turned to her memories, long ago as they seemed.

Everything in her life seemed to have stopped when she left the Circle tower. The only time she had ever met people was the rare occasions she visited town. Myr had tried to seek out the Dalish, but to no avail. When she realized that attempt was without merit, she tried to leave Ferelden, but was stopped by the harsh storms of the Frostback Mountains. She stayed in Denerim for awhile, meeting quite a few people, some more important than others, but she eventually left.

In short, the year she spent outside the Circle was spent doing nothing. Wandering, eating, sleeping, fighting bandits and darkspawn and doing whatever she could to somehow stay attractive through it all. Of course, her physical appearance mattered above all, being a girl and all.

"As if the templars care how pretty the apostates they cut down are..." Myr's mind instantly went back to the Circle, back to her life there. She didn't remember anything before coming to the circle, but she knew somehow she was always a wanderer. The templars brought her when she was 14, but she must have hit her head along the way as she knew nothing of her past except a few scattered fragments of Denerim and a woman she supposed was her mother.

Myr never adjusted to Circle life, always trying to find a way out. She escaped the first time only a week after being brought there, only to be found gazing at Lake Calenhad on the southern end of the island housing the Circle Tower.

The elf snickered as she recalled the event. She was caught by surprise at the fervor of their organization when they prepared to look for her. They shouted, yelled, panicked and afraid of something, anything. The templars always overreacted to everything, even when it was simply a girl getting some fresh air.

And now they wanted to kill her. Myr sighed. Once she got to Denerim, she'd need another purpose. Something, anything, to give her a reason to keep going.

The elf had no reason to exist, after all. She'd escaped her home...for what? So she could wander the countryside, bored and alone with nothing to do and nobody to talk to? Maybe that was why she was so open to Saul, because she was craving interaction?

Myr fell into sleep slowly, ignoring her job. Saul would be unhappy, she knew, but there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing would happen in one night. Nothing exciting.

Because nothing special ever happened in her life.