To this day I still have no idea what compelled me to help Jowan. I had always been obedient…well, I pulled my fair share of pranks and made most of the templars go prematurely grey on more than one occasion, but it was all just harmless fun. No one ever got sent to Aeonar, or made tranquil from my mischief.

I passed my Harrowing, just like I knew I would. My friend Anders had always feared his, no matter how many sarcastic remarks or displays of nonchalance I knew he feared his…but even he passed it. I was fearful of the Harrowing, but I didn't let it cripple me…not ever.

I had fully expected to leave that chamber, shrug off the chill of Mouse and that horrid place, and go about being a mage. Studying at all hours, fine tuning my craft…these were things I looked forward to. And then Jowan approached with his eyes wide, begging for my help.

I met Lily and heard their tale and all was lost. Anders had had far too much influence and his last flowery speech on why the Circle needed to shove it where the sun didn't shine was still fresh in my mind. So I helped them…I kind of wish I hadn't, in the dark moments of the night when I awake from nightmares too grisly to speak of in daylight, or when I look at my love and know we will both die soon…far too early, but still. I place both hands upon my belly, permanently empty of Alistair's child and curse Jowan's name for the fate he gave me. The curse I ended up giving my friend…but no matter, there is no use moaning about it. It cannot be changed after all, my choices have been made. Looking back on it now, after all that has happened…in a way I'm thankful to Jowan too, though you'll never hear me admit that.

I remember arriving at Ostagar…how afraid I was. Duncan often found me curled up on my bedroll, shaking because I had never been outside before. I'd never felt the rain against my skin, the grass beneath my feet. Never watched the sun rise except through barred windows, and the fact that I was now out of my element, my sanctuary…Maker but I was terrified.

We arrived early in the morning, both exhausted but Duncan had immediately straightened his armor and helped me dust off the worst of the mess on my robe. Apparently the King was going to greet us. Somehow, and I know not whether it was the strain of all that had happened or simply because I really just wanted to crawl under a rock and never leave…but I wasn't in the best of moods when Cailan arrived. Wynne would have described my actions as "sassing" the King…I like to think of my behavior as "realistic" given the situation. Anyway, Cailan and I didn't meet on the best of terms but he took it in stride. Possibly my becoming a Grey Warden had something to do with it, I'll never know.

Then I saw Wynne, and the world seemed to right itself. I threw my arms around her and sobbed, scared out of my mind. I didn't want to be a Grey Warden…I wanted to be an Enchanter. She simply held me, stroked my hair like she always had and murmured in my ear until I calmed down. Once I was stable she told me that not often do we get to choose our paths, we simply have to follow to the best of our abilities and pray that the Maker watches out for us. I didn't fully agree with her on that, but it was still good to see her. Duncan pushed me along though, there was much to do.

It must be surprising…me, the Hero of Ferelden, acting like a newborn in the face of my new role. You've never grown up in the Circle have you? No…I didn't think so. It is like living your life in a box, never leaving it, never knowing what is fully out there except the tiny glimpses through slits in the stone walls…then all of a sudden you are out, the light blinding your eyes and all the rules and regulations and social etiquette you once knew is no longer valid or correct. Society in the Circle is a completely different one from the real world. We are cut off, you see…and so we never fully grow. I never did react to change well, and I wasn't about to start. So forgive my uncertainty kind reader…it didn't last long if that's any consolation.

My fear and anxiety died the instant I brought that silver chalice to my lips. Alistair and Duncan watching and waiting for me to die like my fellows…I did not. I lost consciousness, glimpsed a dark creature of unspeakable evil and awoke to find the world forever changed.

I was more aware of my surroundings, hearing the wind whisper through the trees at full volume. My eyesight sharpened…I could feel the blood rushing through my veins, my heart pounding in my ears. I felt…alive. I looked up at Alistair, not knowing he and I would soon fall in love, and seeing relief in his eyes…relief and sadness for he knew the path I was about to walk.

Then he and I were separated from the battle, set with the task of simply lighting a fire. I at first was angry, thinking that if the battle would be so easily won why had my life been thrown into this? I was no warrior…I wasn't even that great of a mage! Duncan wouldn't listen though…and in the end, if he had, we'd all be dead and the world overrun by darkspawn.

The Joining changed me greatly…but not so much as Ostagar, that battle left a scar that no matter how much I drink it never fades. Alistair had often voiced his hatred of Loghain in our travels back then…but I honestly believe his hatred has nothing on mine. I despised that man…would have loved to throw him in a pit filled with darkspawn and watch him be torn apart like the good men he abandoned, so many lives lost…and not just because of Loghain. I hate Cailan too. I grit my teeth whenever I hear of what a great leader he was. He was no leader…he was a fool.

He killed thousands just for the sake of a grand adventure. Believe what you want reader, but I know Cailan was warned of the outcome; I was there when Duncan practically got on his knees and begged the King to see reason. He refused, thinking it all a fantastic adventure story. What an idiot.

Alistair is Cailan's half brother, and no matter how many jokes Morrigan makes I know he is smarter and would make a far better ruler than Cailan ever was. He won't hear it; he just gets this adorable blush and mumbles something about ending up stranded without any pants.

After Alistair and I lit the signal fire the battle made a turn for the worst and soon Ostagar was lost, all our comrades slain and smeared upon the grass of the battlefield. Alistair and I were swarmed and all I can recall is this wave of arrows…all aimed at me.

I woke to find myself in bed, naked, with Alistair. It was not as pleasant as it sounds; Alistair was unconscious and covered in his own blood. Morrigan hovered over him with her mother, both women doing their best to heal the only other grey warden besides me. I noticed I myself was drenched in blood too and three arrows were sticking out of my shoulder and chest. I then passed out in horror.

Regaining consciousness found me dressed and alone in bed, Morrigan murmuring a recap of the battle's end as she sifted through a book. She was a strange woman, with eyes the color of gold. She laughed at the oddest moments in conversation, finding the whole of society pure folly. She clearly thought that she had all the answers and this irritated Alistair beyond madness.

She was a mage like me, though she'd never even seen the Circle. I was jealous…sort of. Clearly life outside as an apostate was difficult and I had much to be grateful for in confinement…but still, the kind of freedom she possessed was an object of great envy to me. Anders probably would have ravished her on the spot now that I think of it. The lad wouldn't have been able to resist an apostate goddess. But that is simply a funny thought, he is taken now and happily so. In addition I fear what would happen to the woman who even attempted to steal Anders away…his lover is indeed a force to be reckoned with. Bah, I'm getting side tracked.

The three of us, Alistair, Morrigan, and I ended up on an epic journey. Dragging ourselves all over Ferelden to gain allies against an army I was sure we had no hope of defeating. It was baffling, to me, that a barely out of apprenticeship mage managed to band together a group of rag tag mercenaries and saved an entire kingdom.

I saw so much. I won honor amongst the Dalish, braved some of the darkest depths of the Fade, and even put Orzammar's current King on the thrown. Me…just a mage. I still have a hard time believing it, no matter how close to the truth Leliana writes my tale it still doesn't feel like mine.

All the friends I made on that journey. My darling Alistair whom I know I could never live without, we plan on going to the deep roads together…no matter who gets the final nightmares first. Morrigan who I hope is well out there…dark things await her I fear. My beloved Leliana, who even now still visits when she can. Shale and Wynne left long ago…and I know I will never see my mentor again, Andraste guide her, but I hope to find Shale eventually. Zevran…an unforgettable ally and I say that with the utmost affection. No…not THAT kind of affection. Sten…a friend unlike any other I have ever met, I hope he was not on that boat that landed at Kirkwall. Ah, Oghren…what can I say about Oghren? Truly he is not a man easily put into words, but by the Maker he made me laugh. We all stood and fought, my friends holding me up when I could no longer stand. Without them the Archdemon would have won…I firmly believe that.

I faced down a demon and won. Though the cost was dear…and I still do not fully know how it will come back on me. Alistair pretends it never happened but I know better. As one of my newest friends likes to say, there comes a time when you must stand and fight, when you turn and face the tiger.

And now here I sit, alone in Vigil's Keep. Alistair is away on business, due to return soon I hope for I miss him greatly. Well, I'm not completely alone I guess. The Champion and Anders are with me…I must say I've grown quite fond of her. She is good for Anders at least, making sure to keep his feet on the ground when I fail to make him see sense. Trouble brews on the horizon for them both though…and I pray every day that they'll be able to overcome it.

Not really sure why I wrote this…I mean I now have two people who've told my story already. Leliana actually wrote my story down, but Varric seems to think it will spread quickly by word of mouth. Maker knows what the version will sound like by the time he's finished telling it.

Maybe I just wanted to tell my own story. It's not as grand as Varric's version, or as beautiful and elegant as Leliana's writings, considering the length of her book my version is incredibly short, but I'm sure it stands on its own.

I would write something flowery and inspirational here, end on a philosophical note, but I doubt this parchment will ever see the light of day again. Anders has challenged the Champion to a duel, and I look forward to watching Maeve kick his arse.

Whether you are a stranger, a servant, or the Champion, who has decided to finally grow a pair and snoop through my desk, I wish you well and may the Maker watch over you.