CHAPTER FOUR

FIVE MONTHS BEFORE THE BATTLE OF DENERIM

SIDONA'S OLD HOUSE, VAL ROYEAUX ALIENAGE

ORLAIS

Walking through the back streets of the Alienage was simple for Sidona. She had lived here for at least a year before the Templars force her to the Circle of Magi in the White Spire. The White Spire was located within Val Royeaux you could see the spire from any location in the capital, at night the white tower is lit by magic, seen by some as looking like a sword thrust into the sky. It was breath-taking to look at. She turned to look at the tower, the sun was setting and the tower began to glow. It reminded her that she used to live there. She made her way past several elves, all shady looking with daggers strapped to their belts, but they knew she was a mage. She had taught them the other night when they jumped her. The men back away slowly and then broke into a sprint. The Alienage had changed just a bit since the last time she was here. Now elven criminals roam the streets and back allies, not a safe place. Now the elves are turning against each other instead of begging on the streets and mugging the odd Shemlen. The situation was worsening with each passing day. Sidona move quickly through the back allies, gracefully ducking under fallen beams and crates filled with Maker-knows-what. She pasted the brothel, and knew she was close to her former home which was still rented under her name, and protected by magic wards, to prevent looters from stealing her books and other valuables. The brothel was an elven only brothel, whores made the most money in the Alienage. Noble Orlesians paid good coin to get an elven prostitute into bed with them, and the elven women gladly lay with them to get the coin. They shared what coin they got with the poorest of the Alienage, but coin corrupts and soon elven gangs organised and help themselves rather than the poorest amongst them.

She saw her house and walk towards it carefully, many still remembered her, not happy memories. She dispelled the ward and entered slowly. Finally at home safe from the Imperial Court and the watchful eyes of the Orlesian guards and the elven criminals. It was nice to be back in her familiar home she lost so long ago. Her house was a small little thing, but it was cosy and sturdy. It was one big room, where walls section the each "room". Her bed room was tucked behind the wall on the right hand side of the door. In front of the door was her tub, where of course she bathed, she didn't like it there but if couldn't fit anywhere else. Despite its short comings it was a nice house in the "nicest" part of the Val Royeaux's Alienage. She had quarters in the Grey Warden headquarters in Montsimmard, but she wasn't there and Montsimmard was a ways south of Val Royeaux. She had gathered her belongings into a truck for transport to her manor the previous day when she came here. Now she just wanted to relax and soak in her past. She quickly took off her fancy Orlesian shoes that she had to wear. Sidona never liked shoes, she enjoyed walking around barefooted. But that wasn't strange, she was raised in a Dalish clan, clan Aldamin. It was a small clan that wandered from Fereldan to Orlais as per their ancient traditions. Wiggling each toe she sighed in relief. Her feet felt free from the restraints of shoes. To her shoes held back her speed. Shoes where meant for Shemlen and the city elves.

She moved quickly to her bed, she had to get out of her outfit, it was the typical blue robes of a mage apprentice, customized to show her allegiance to the Grey Wardens and further modified to look stylish and easy on the eyes for her meeting with the Empress. He hated it. She tore it off quickly all day she was wearing it and it made her skin itchy, she managed to survive the day thanks to her magic. She cast a spell to soothe her skin, but the spell had started to wain since she left the Imperial Court. Since the Templars kept watch she couldn't use her spell again. Using magic within the city was an offense, unless the Chantry had given its permission. Grey Wardens were not the exception to that rule, Grey Warden mages could only use magic inside Montsimmard. Sidona had broken that rule this morning. "But what the Templars don't know won't hurt me." She had said this morning to Jardukr and Narder.

Now she was almost naked. She wore a typical Dalish corset with red underwear that a fellow elven Warden gave her, she did not ask what the material was nor was she interested, it was comfortable enough to wear. She looked at herself in the mirror and thought of her new life that was set out for her. She was to become a noblewoman, the first elf ever. She didn't like the idea much she would be more than happy to fight alongside her fellow Wardens against the darkspawn in Fereldan, but neither she nor her brothers and sisters could cross into Fereldan thanks to Teyrn Loghain. Being a noble wasn't her idea, she was to advise the Empress not dally about with nobles who plotted behind the Empress back. It didn't matter, the choice was made. Sidona knew much about the Blights, from the lore she collected as the Keepers First and later when she began to learn from the Grey Wardens extensive knowledge they had gathered over the course of many Blights and expeditions into the Deep Roads.

Using her own magic she had created when she was feeling lazy or tired, Sidona remover her corset and underwear with this spell moving her hands up from her knees above her head, the process looked like the clothing was burning away into blue light only to reappear on her bed, neatly folded and ready for storage. She quickly threw on her dressing gown, it was smaller than she remembered, it barely covered her knees and a large part of her chest was exposed. Luckily it's covering my breasts. If Jard were here I'd have to cure him again. Maybe even kill him. She thought. It had been five years since she was last here, the wards did their job the place was full of dust. She wouldn't be here for long. After a nice hot bath of course. She moved to her metal tub—it was empty—of course. She waved her hand around and water filled the tub. A useful spell to have. She then set a fire underneath the tub to let the water heat up the tub to a nice temperature. She put out the fire after a moment and touched the metal tub and sent a small bit of cold into the metal so she wouldn't burn her back and bum. She got in and let out a relaxing breath and settled into the water.

After half an hour bathing in her tub the water began to get cold. She shivered and jumped out. "I was enjoying that!" She yelled to herself. She felt a slight bit embarrassed when she realised she was talking to herself. She was used to being with the Grey Warden one other elven mage, Royd, kept using his magic to make the water cold. Whenever her tub water got cold she'd blame him. But today her tub water went cold on its own, no magic involved, she was covering his womanhood for a moment before using her spell to put some clothes on. The clothes appeared on her body. Her blue Grey Warden tunic, it had no sleeves and a belt to section off her lower half making it look like she was wearing a skirt. The belt held packs ranging in size. The tunic cover up to a few centimetre above her knees. She wore leather wraps around her ankle it exposed her toes and the back of her feet. She took out some fingerless leather gloves from her a small pack attached to her belt and put them on. The right glove came up to about half way on her wrist covering a long horizontal scar, the left one was shorter like a standard glove. She straightened herself and looked into the mirror she was fixing her hair. Using her spell dried her completely. Her hair wasn't wet it was the same as it was when she arrived here, she was just adjusting it. Finally she looked at her nails, they had undergone a full manicure. The manicure was something she actually enjoyed. Luckily they never put any colour on her nails. She was ready to head out. She grabbed her truck by its handle and rolled it towards the door.

GREY WARDEN OUTPOST, OUTSIRKTS OF VAL ROYEAUX

It took an hour or two to get to the Grey Warden outpost. It was an isolated tower, originally built by the Tevinter Imperium it now housed—when necessary—the Grey Wardens of Orlais when they gathered outside of Montsimmard. They modified it and repaired it—to some extent. Night had fallen completely, and the small lanterns outside of the outpost guided her up the crooked stone stairs, her truck was making thudding noises each step she took up. The large door opened and outstepped, Gregory La Vale, he was the Warden-Commander of Orlais. His thick Orlesian style moustache was funny to look at, it was so typically, Orlesian. Despite his funny beard he was a stern and serious man. He commanded much respect from the Grey Wardens in Orlais. Whispers were about that in a year he would have to take his Calling, he was a Grey Warden longer than Sidona.

"About time you got here. I take you dallied about in your Alienage home?" He said, his accent was thicker than most Orlesians.

"I told you. I left a lot of important things there." Sidona said, staring defiantly at him.

"Bloody woman! Well you're here now. Best get moving we have much to discuss." He moved towards Sidona and pick up her truck with one hand and held it under his arm. Strong Shem. Together they entered the outpost. Inside many Wardens gather around a large finely polished wooden table, they sat down when Gregory entered with Sidona.

"To business then. Sidona's appointment has caused… a stir amongst the lower noble houses. Duke Prosper de Montfort and Lord Gaspard de Chalons have petitioned the Empress to reconsider and bar our order from Orlais." Gregory sat down on his chair, Sidona stood next to him. Many of the Wardens their muttered to each other, they were all wearing the blue Grey Warden tunics. Gregory wore his full commander plate armour set.

"Madness! They can't expect to expel us! With the Bight raging in Fereldan—" One Warden sprang up shouting,

"Most nobles believe that the Blight is a fiction made up by King Callan to weaken Orlais military. They don't understand or fail to understand the danger this Blight represents. That is why we must do our best to protect Sidona. Many nobles will beginning plotting against her and will make a move to kill her in front of the Empress tomorrow." Gregory interrupted.

"Sidona can look after herself she is a blood mage after all." A younger Nevarran male said. That hurt Sidona. She did not become a blood mage by choice. Before the Grey Warden recruited her a year ago she was kidnapped from the Circle and was forced into using blood magic by a mad mage who didn't want to use foul magic himself. Using a ritual that involved Lyrium the mage controlled her mind, a way a blood mage would but through Lyrium. She did not know what happened to her after the ritual was over. The scar on her right wrist was her reminder and she covered it up most of the time. The Templar caught her and branded her a maleficar and attempted to kill her. So she used her new found power to stop them. After a week of running she was cornered again, this time the Grey Wardens interfered and conscripted her into the Order. The Wardens bribed the Templars to keep her power a secret. Something she didn't expect them to do.

"True, but, she is not like most maleficar. I don't want you using any blood magic at this ceremony. Unless it is absolutely necessary." He turned to her and she nodded in response.

Things were going ahead and quickly. Tomorrow was going to a hard day. A day not to forget.