A/N: This story is inspired by my Dragon Age Tabletop Game character, a Tal-Vashoth mage turned adventurer working for Sutherland & Company. I wanted to expand on the origin story I initially made for her character sheet. This may be a one-shot or I may expand further as my ideas have time to brew. I do not own Dragon Age, but merely play on Bioware's and Green Ronin's playground.
TN - Child abuse (mild)
"To call a thing by its name is to know its reason in the world. To call a thing falsely is to put out one's own eyes." - excerpt from the Qun
When Imekari was small, she did not question the life she had. There was food, and shelter, a Tamassran to give her care, and plenty of other children to play with. She was content.
As Imekari grew, she began her schooling. All children under the Qun learned to read and write, the basics of math and science and art. They were not taught for the sake of learning, but to be assessed for talent and aptitude. Imekari saw that they were being tested, weighted for efficiency rather than care, but her teachers, and the Qun told her not to question.
Resentment began to take root in Imekari's soul.
What, she wondered, was the point of trying, if she did not enjoy what she was good at? Why excel at anything, if she would always be told where to go and what to do?
Asit tal-eb said the Qun. "It is to be." Does fate involve no choice at all?
Sataareth kadan hass-toh issala ebasit said the Qun. "It is my purpose to do what I must for those I consider important." But who is important to me? Who am I important to?
If Imekari voiced these questions, would she be made Ashkaari? Or would the Ben-Hassrath take her away like the gardener with Asala-taar, the soul-sickness?
Fear began to take root in Imekari's soul.
Imekari did not speak of her resentment, nor her fear. Instead, she rebelled in the only way she knew how: by doing neither well nor poorly on any task. She simply drifted, giving little care to anything and doing only enough to not fail. When Imekari's magic awakened at age twelve, it mattered not.
The storm blew in suddenly while she was out walking. Despite trees and structures around Imekari, it was as if the lightning sought her out, striking her small body as she crouched low to the ground in terror. The buildings nearest to her exploded, walls caving away from her as if pushed. Imekari stared at her hands as sparks danced over her skin and between her fingers. It didn't hurt. When she pointed, a spark jumped from her fingers to the ground before her. Imekari was now Saarebas.
She had seen another Saarebas before. Collared and chained like a beast, eyes covered like a hooded falcon, muzzled as a hound who bites, and under control by an Arvaarad who carried a device that delivered pain to the Saarebas who disobeyed. Animals were treated better than Saarebas. She knew then that her soul would die if she stayed. But it was her duty to stay.
She ran anyway. She ran from the tests, from her magic, from her home, from the Qun, and from her duty. But she ran towards herself, and toward a future determined by her own hand.
When the Arvaraad came for her, it was not unexpected. What was unexpected, was how he did. There was no ambush, no attempt at subtlety, but instead, simple, relentless pursuit. She knew nothing of survival, concealing a trail, or how to feed herself on a journey. She was but a child running from a monster, and he was a hunter bringing a beast to heel.
"Ebasit kata! Maraas shokra!" Arvaraad commanded. "It is over! Do not struggle!" When the collar closed upon her throat, the pain used to "tame" a Saarebas came immediately, wracking her entire body with its terrible affliction. She collapsed, screaming and in tears, trying to summon the magic that would free her. She could not, for the agony was too great. "You will return to your place, Saarebas. You will serve the Qun, and you will be grateful that I do not offer you greater punishment than this."
Her vision darkened, consciousness fading, when the pain suddenly let up. She lay limp on the ground in relief, until the Arvaraad gripped her wrist and clapped a manacle around it. Years of fear and resentment crystallized in that moment, and she felt a shift in her very soul. "Saarebas-rass!" The defiant scream tore from her throat, as lightning surged from the sky to strike her, and her power and sudden grasp channeled it into the Arvaarad. It was his turn to scream in agony as the surge of electricity burned through his body. His turn to collapse to the ground. An explosion of mana forced them apart, and her vision darkened once again.
She woke, ears still ringing from the thunder that followed the lightning strike. The collar fell from her throat as she sat up, twisted and melted. So too, did the single manacle that had closed upon her wrist moments before. Strangely, neither wrist nor throat showed signs of being burned. When her attention turned to the Arvaarad, only a twisted husk remained. She turned aside and vomited as the reality of the moment caught up to her, but after mastering herself again, she gazed upon what she had wrought. "Saarebas-rass!" She repeated. "Ebala Asaaranda!" Not Saarebas. I am Asaaranda. I am the storm.