~~~V~V~V~~~


The trip to the Circle took nearly three weeks, though Artalise hardly paid attention to the passage of time. Jowan and herself rode in a mule-pulled cart the whole way, their small party led by Ser Greagoir and a small contingent of other shiny men and woman. The elf took the time to take in the world around her. Never in her life had she seen so much open land and green life, and her eyes eagerly soaked in the whole of it. Little could she have known that it would be many, many years before she would be in the open air again.

The two newly-found mages formed a fast friendship, eagerly playing games with each other as the miles went on. At first their favorite was "I spy", but as civilization receded and forests took over, they started to play other games. She was able to share her favorite ones from the Alienage, and he shared with her the ones that human children played. Remarkably, some were nearly identical except for their name. The Templars for large part let the children be, though every once in a while one would join in as they put aside their natural suspicion of mages and saw the two for what they were – children. During other times, Greagoir would shush the children, particularly if they squealed loudly in laughter.

Both children were silent, however, when they left the forest and their cart rolled quietly down the slope to the docks of Lake Calenhad, mesmerized by the appearance of the tall grey structure that was the Tower that appeared to rise out of the lake itself.

Ser Wilchore, a Templar who had been the most frequent participant in their games looked down at the two of them with a smile and extended his hand in the direction of the Tower, "Welcome to your new home, children."

"It looks like a castle! Does a king live there?" Jowan exclaimed his eyes wide with wonder.

Ser Wilchore chuckled, "I doubt one could consider First Enchanter Irving a 'King' per se, but he will be in charge of the Tower, yes"

"First Enchanter Irving" repeated Artalise, exaggerating her pronunciation as if getting use to a foreign word.

It looked like Ser Wilchore was going to continue, but he stopped when he saw Ser Greagoir's raised hand as they stopped by the water's edge. Greagoir turned around to face his small group, "Ser Wilchore and I will take the children across. The rest of you may have some reprieve at the Spoiled Princess."

There was happy chattering going among the Templars as they walked over to the local tavern. Ser Wilchore walked around to the back of the cart, helping both the children down off the cart and walked them over to the dock, while Ser Greagoir talked with the boatman standing at the end of it next to a small rowboat.

Jowan wasn't bothered at all by the situation, in fact he was rather excited after seeing the boat, telling Artalise that his father had often taken him fishing in a rowboat just like the one by the dock, and how much he loved it. Artalise had never seen so much water in her life, and more than that, she'd never seen a boat before either.

Ser Wilchore noticed that something wasn't sitting well with the girl when he found himself having to tug on her arm to get her to walk across the wood planks of the dock. She looked terrified.

"Jowan, go up to Greagoir and get on the boat. We'll be there in a moment." He released the boy's hand, who eagerly ran down the wood and lowered himself into the boat, happily starting a conversation with the boatman. Ser Greagoir meanwhile looked back at the Templar and young elf with scarcely veiled impatience.

The Templar beside her knelt down and took her hands in his, and his eyes watching hers, "What is it Artalise?"

Artalise paused a moment before answering, lowering a shaky finger down to point at the dock below, "W-we are w-walking on w-water…."

Ser Wilchore looked down with a puzzled look, before coming to an understanding and laughing, "Oh! I suppose your kind don't have a chance to be on the water much, hmm? Look, it's perfectly safe" He got up for a moment and stomped down hard on the dock, making his armor sing a little, but not harming the wood at all. He extended his hand down to her with another smile, "Come along then. You can trust me, this is safe. No harm will come to you."

They walked slowly down to the end of the dock, but when the time came for Artalise to get into the boat, she stopped again. All she could see was the bobbing motion of it, and she knew she didn't want to get into it. The dock was solid, not moving and she felt safe there. Ser Greagoir let out an exasperated sigh.

"Artalise! Come on in! I love boats- just wait until we get moving and you put your hand in the water to watch the waves- it's so much fun!" Jowan chattered eagerly as he sat down on the bench in the rowboat. Artalise gulped and took a small step towards the edge of the dock before refusing to take another step again.

Ser Wilchore chuckled and stepped into the boat, spreading his hands wide, "See? I'm standing in the boat and all is well! Come along now, my little girl"

She still refused to move, her body even trembling a little at the thought of it. With another sigh, Ser Greagoir reached down and lifted the girl up, causing her to let out a little screech of surprise, and handed her over to Ser Wilchore's outstretched hands. He then lowered the girl gently on the bench besides Jowan, who had scooted to the edge of the boat and then sat on the other side of her. Her small hands gripped his armor hard enough to make the whites of her knuckles show.

Her fear lasted for no longer than the first few strokes of the oar before her natural curiosity took over, eventually crawling into the lap of Ser Wilchore to gaze into the murky depths of the lake, and even getting the courage up to stick her hand into the cool water, giggling as she watched the little waves her hand caused.

While the trip across the lake intrigued her, both Jowan and herself let out gasps of delight when they realized that they were going to be entering a cave at the base of the Tower. The dark, damp coolness of the cave was a welcomed relief from the hot sun of midday, especially for the two men in armor and the children pointed out to each other lizards and other creatures that they saw scuttling across the rock.

The mouth of the cave receded behind them, yet instead of the cave getting darker, it actually got lighter, and the source of the light was soon seen. As the dock came into sight, standing at the shoreline was a man, his brown hair and beard streaked with grey. He held in his hand a staff, the end of which was glowing brightly. While not a word was said between them in the boat or the man on the shore, Artalise could feel the bearded man's eyes on both her and Jowan.

It wasn't until Ser Greagoir led them down the dock after departing the boat that words were first exchanged, "It's good to have you back Knight-Commander Greagoir. The Templars have missed you dearly," said the man with the glowing staff, a smile now on his face.

"But not the mages, I take it, Irving " and for the first time Artalise saw a small smile break the shiny man's mouth.

Irving chuckled, "Perhaps one or two amongst the Loyalists. But for the large part, no. I hope you aren't offended." he then shifted his gaze to the two children who stood staring at the him, or more accurately, at his glowing staff in abject amazement, "And I take it you got more than you bargained for when you went to Denerim, hmm? Not only did I get a month's pause in your constant requests for me to get my mages in line, but you brought me two young ones as well? You are too kind."

The Knight-Commander snorted before bowing his head in the First Enchanter's direction, "The pleasure was all mine. Now, if you excuse me, I must see to my Templars and deal with their, I'm sure numerous complaints regarding your mages." At Irving's nod, Ser Wilchore and Ser Greagoir walked towards the door that led to the rest of the Tower, leaving the two children alone with a stranger. This time however, Artalise was not frightened. She liked this robed man.

Irving knelt down besides the two children, looking at both of them in turn. "Greeting my children. As you may have already guessed, I am First Enchanter Irving. May I have the pleasure of knowing both of your names?"

"My name's Jowan Yanorn"

"Mine is Artalise Tabris"

Irving nodded and straightened up, before turning towards the door, "A pleasure. However, from here on forth, we go by first names only. Once you have been assigned an enchanter, you will take on their last name, but then that is only used in the most formal of settings," He sighed as if remembering some long gone memory, "Such is the way of the Circle. Now, if you will follow me, I will introduce you to your new home. Your new family."


~~~3 years later: 8 years old~~~


Artalise bit her lip as she concentrated fiercely on the thread of wool that slipped through her fingers, ensuring it was as smooth and consistent as possible, her foot taping the pedal rhythmically. She heard Jowan, who was sitting at the spinning wheel beside hers mutter a curse under his breath before sighing, "You know, when I imagined being taught how to use magic at the Circle, I thought of fireballs and swirling smoke. Not spinning wheels."

Artalise grinned but took a moment before responding, "'But how can apprentices learn to control the flow of power from the Fade if they can't first learn to control the flow of wool in a spinning wheel?'" she quoted in a singsong voice, imitating the tone of Enchanter Rebca well enough to cause Jowan to giggle.

The room they were in hummed with the sound of spinning wheels and the soft sound of wool being spun, besides, of course, for the chatter going on in the group of 30 or so apprentices. The noise had been getting worse recently, as more and more of them were nearing the age when they would be chosen by an Enchanter and move on to the second part of their training. The past three years had been spent by Artalise first learning to read, then having her nose constantly in a book as she attempted to learn the theory and history of magic. During this whole time, the apprentices cast not a single spell, instead spending their hours being lectured or being involved in exercises that they were told would aid them when the time came from them to pull power from the Fade. They spent at least an hour a day spinning wool, leading some of them to speculate what the Circle does with all the wool. The best answer they'd come up with yet is that the Circle sells it to a merchant who can make a handsome profit by selling mystical wool spun from the very hands of mages. The Chantry may hold power over people, but few could resist the appeal of owning magical wool, surely?

"I've heard that a Surana Enchantership just opened up. Enchanter Iona's apprentice just went through the Harrowing, and now she is seeking a new one." An apprentice called Petra whispered to her friend Jana. They were seated right next to Artalise and Jowan, so the elf couldn't help but overhear.

Jana squealed though settled down quickly in order to ensure she didn't make any mistakes in her thread, "Really? I so want to be either a Surana or an Amell!"

Petra snorted, "Don't we all?"

It was a moment before Jana said anything more, as if she had just remembered something and was mulling it over, "Wait, Enchanter Iona's apprentice was…was Larken, wasn't it?"

There was no response, but Artalise assumed that Petra had nodded, "Didn't he spend some of his nights crying?" Jana asked tentatively.

"Mmm."

"Oh."

It was a couple of days later and their lesson with Enchanter Wynne about the creation school had just finished when Enchanter Rebca, who had been watching the apprentices sharply from her desk to ensure they all behaved, called out to their retreating backs, "Apprentice Artalise? May I see you for a moment?"

Artalise felt a lot of eyes suddenly turn on her, and blushed, partly due to embarrassment, but partly also due to excitement. She was going to get a last name- she was finally going to learn how to use magic!

She turned to Jowan, who was suddenly looking more downcast than ususal, "I'll be back soon, OK? We have a game to finish, " she smiled before turning and walked over to the Enchanter, who was now standing beside her desk.

"If you will follow me, please, Apprentice" Enchanter Rebca said coolly, leading the young elf towards the practice rooms. The rooms where Apprentices met with the Enchanters.

Not a word was said, and Enchanter Rebca opened the door to the last room in the far corner of the room. She bowed her head in greeting to the person inside the room. Artalise's excitement faded away as she realized whose room Enchanter Rebca had opened.

Enchanter Rebca cleared her throat and motioned Artalise into the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. Artalise kept her eyes lowered in deference, but she could feel the woman's eyes looking her over critically.

"Look at me, child"

Artalise looked up and for the first time studied the woman's face in front of her. She too was elvish, the tattoo on her face emphasizing the sharpness of her cheeks. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a sharp neat bun and her violet eyes were cool and calculating. Enchanter Iona Surana.

No words were said as teacher and apprentice looked at each other for a few moments before the Enchanter broke the silence.

"I want you in this room after breakfast is served tomorrow. Do not be late. We have much to cover" And with that she motioned for Artalise to leave.

I'm a Surana now…" She thought to herself as she quickly left the room to back to the apprentice quarters, Artalise Surana.


~~~5 years later: 13 years old~~~


"I still don't understand why you want to have your face tattooed." Jowan sighed in the chair beside her. The two of them were located in the library, going over some Circle history. It had taken Jowan nearly an extra year to be picked up by an Enchanter and it was a point of embarrassment for him. Artalise did her best to ensure he wouldn't fall behind again, and so the two often spent many hours in the library as she tried to explain concepts to him.

Artalise smiled as she closed her book, "But of course you wouldn't, human" She exaggerated the last word in jest.

He continued on, "I mean, the whole thing with the Circle is that we are suppose to be like one huge family, right? There shouldn't be differences between us, between humans and elves…"

"What is wrong for us to learn more about our elven history, our elven culture? I have to know all about the Ferelden human history. Why can't I learn about the elven history too?"

"Yeeeees….but…" He leaned in and whispered, not bothering to hide his concern, "Isn't the val-si-whatever, doesn't it represent an elven god? How can the Templars allow something that blasphemous?" His eyes widened as a sudden thought came to him, "Wait, do the Templars even know?"

Artalise let out a snort and rolled her eyes, "You ninny. You think they wouldn't start asking questions when young elves suddenly started showing up in the mornings with new tattoos on their face? They asked questions and First Enchanter Irving assured them that it has nothing to do with religious inclinations- we do it to express our love for elven culture and yes, we are all good followers of Andraste. Besides," She grinned, "The designs we use would probably be unrecognizable to a Dalish elf. None of the history books contained any designs of what the Dalish would wear…so some elf mage sort of…made them up," she giggled.

"It doesn't mean anything, and you still want one?" his tone implying that he really didn't understand her thinking. "Won't it hurt?"

"Pain is part of the ritual," she shrugged, unconcerned. At that moment she noticed the young elf Eadric enter the library, and looking around as if trying to look for someone,. She put her book down and got up from her seat, "Jowan, study hard! I'll see you later tonight, or maybe tomorrow, OK?"

She briskly walked over to Eadric who smiled when he saw her and lead her out of the room to where the ceremony was going to take place. While the Templars didn't openly seek these ceremonies out to disrupt them, neither did they totally approve of what they did and so the Elves of the Tower often met in different rooms each week, depending on the suggestion of First Enchanter Irving. Sometimes they just gathered to talk, usually the older Elves telling the younger ones stories they've heard about Elvhenan , but every once in a while a young elf would come of age, and the vallaslin, or blood-writing ceremony would take place. Everybody relished such meetings.

"Who did you choose, Apprentice Artalise?" Eadric whispered to her as they walked towards an empty part of the Tower.

Artalise smiled at the elf who was a few years younger than herself, "Elgar-nan"

His eyes widened, "The god of vengeance?"

She nodded her head, thinking back to her previous conversation with Jowan. Of course she couldn't have told him the truth – he was a known gossiper and the Circle elves held their secrets close. Over many years, the elves of the Circle were slowly able to figure out the basic designs of each of the nine gods of the Elvish Pantheon. While their designs were poor compared to the intricacies and meaning of the Dalish tattoos, any of their forest dwelling brethren would be able to see their tattoo and know the god it invoked.

Eadric rapped on the door they soon arrived at, his rhythm too precise to be random, and she heard a lock slide and the door open.

Enchanter Iona smiled, a rare event and it actually surprised Artalise, "Thank you Eadric. And welcome Artalise."

She beckoned the elves to enter before shutting and locking the door behind them.


~~~V~V~V~~~


The next day found Jowan and Artalise walking back to their quarters to pick up their study materials before heading over to the practice rooms to meet with their instructors. All morning, Artalise had been gingerly touching the new tattoo she bore and wincing. When Jowan had spoke or asked her questions, she had done her best to either grunt an answer or shake her head. Talking hurt.

"I still don't understand why you don't get a potion or something to take the pain away." Jowan mentioned casually, shaking his head.

Artalise sighed and geared herself up for the pain of answering, "Pain is part of the ceremony. Using a potion would be cheating."

Jowan guffawed, "Why? What are they going to do, take away your tattoo?" He rolled his eyes, "How barbaric." Artalise snorted and shook her head, but said nothing.

There was a slight flurry of activity going on in the quarters and Artalise looked at Jowan curiously. He snapped his fingers and grinned, "Oh yes! I almost forgot. Last night they brought in a new found mage. The thing is, he's our age. A lot of mages don't understand why he wasn't…ah…eliminated by the Templars when they found him. They think its too late to teach him, you know?"

Artalise nodded, grimicing slightly as a new wave of pain blossomed over her face, "What's his name?"

Jowan rubbed his chin, trying to remember, "Andrew? No…Adrian? Not that either…Oh!" He beamed, "Anders!"