Chapter 9
Kinloch Hold, Month 3 - 9:29, Drakonis of the Dragon Age
Deedolett's 'birthday' had just passed, a day after Wintersend, the day they found her. In another month they would test her for her harrowing. In the meantime, they devoted all of her time to her studies and helping Jowan.
Deedo prepared herself for the Harrowing day and night for a month straight, she went to bed early for the next day she was ready to prove herself yet again, time was never to be determined for the hour in which they wake you, or call on you, is the time you should be ready.
9:29 - Month 4 - Cloudreach.
This test would not wait; They awakened Deedolett in the middle of the night, her bed-gown only, and they escorted her, confidently strode into the chamber. To see Cullen. Her heart thrummed at the sight of him, with First Enchanter Irving and Knight Commander Greagoir awaiting her as the final preparations were still being set. Once she arrived, there in the room balanced on a thin pin-like base with a bowl, mages poured singing liquid, lyrium.
Her focus shifted to the sound of a heavy sigh. She looked to her left. Cullen stood with the saddest expression emanating throughout his whole body. Cullen pointed a finger at himself and nodded. Deedolett smiled slightly. Her attention was then shifted once more when a gentle hand pulled her elbow.
"Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him."
They walked over to the lyrium and it was still singing. First Enchanter Irving tried to give her a warning but quickly cut off by the Knight Commander. Irving laid a hand on her shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. He and Greagoir stepped back, allowing her to prepare.
Cullen stepped next to her, as was his Commander's instruction. The singing was too wondrous to notice his warmth next to her. Placing her hand in the liquid, she lifted her hand to see the lyrium seeping through her fingers and coated her hand. She smiled as the music covered her.
Deedolett hummed softly with it as it enveloped her in a brilliant flash of light.
Hearing the pure lyrium singing, she shortly found herself teleported into the Fade.
'Mouse' Her companion in the fade, guided her, telling her bits of what he knew of the Fade. Olett knew she read all that she could when not reading about 'Maric's Savior.'
Her goal was not to allow the demons here to lure her, she remembered from her reading, that Deedolit was one such who had a will so strong that even injured her withstood temptation. Olett knew she wanted to be like her. Turning down an offer from the demon of Sloth, she suggested she find a student within her companion, Mouse.
Along the way she met a spirit who Mouse had his reservations about, the Spirit of Valor, "I can make weapons of my will alone, if you deem yourself worthy of one, I challenge you to a duel."
"You challenge me? I am but a humble mage. Might I acquire your assistance in my last test, would that best suit your spirit?" Deedolett questioned. It was a gamble to even bargain, but that she felt she could compromise. "After all, I believe you just tried to kill me?"
Flabbergasted, the spirit bowed and joined her. Her test was approaching, she could feel it. Her arms tingled with the magic that flowed in her veins, crackles of lightning tickled her fingertips. She felt hot, her heart pounding. Approaching the floating isle that was her final test, a roar echoed throughout the fade, the ground rumbled cracking it split and pouring up was this energy, it felt like anger, condensed anger, Olett's bunny appeared at her side, "Ecil, what are you doing here?"
The snow-white bunny bounced to the molten form of rage, leaving frosty paw prints all around between Rage and Olett. Olett nodded, remembering the element she would need for this fight. Mouse, now in Bear form, swiping at the large demon, Valor stunning it every so often. Olett murmuring gathering, pulling the element to her, a chilled wind from her hands projected outwards, from her small hands, the spell of ice learned from her studies in Kinloch poured from her palms.
With Valor and Mouse chipping away at the slowed creature, their efforts were slow, the creature still too hot to be near, even for the spirits.
Olett summoned Ecil to her side, bouncing out from thin air. The bunny shot out, ramming itself against the monster, snowflakes chilling the Valor Spirit sword and Mouse, his enormous paws coated in a hard layer of ice.
Olett plucked a thick vein of lyrium from the ground nearest her and charged. Ramming the solid lyrium into the mouth, she stepped back, and Ecil bounded back and into the mouth, chilling the vein. She heard a series of cracks. Rage was slowing, chilling. No longer as it is molten-like lava form, now it was becoming white. It struggled against it; it was afraid. Once more Olett raised her hands and shot a cold spell solely concentrated on the vein. And with one sound thwack of Valor's shield, the Demon of Rage was no more.
But Rage was not her goal.
Cullen watched as she swayed, catching her before she fell, laying her on the blanket to keep the cold off her body. He drew his blade with a heavy heart, knowing she would pass, but for her, it seemed a little excessive.
A chill from Olett as she lay, a small rabbit appeared, shock on the faces of those in the room. This was magic they had never seen, a materialized being. It then shifted to grow brown, roots, and vines. Small flowers sprouted from where it hopped about, took to shifting elements, ice, and earth. Bounding about, it hopped to Cullen. He was looking at the creature as its tiny nose wriggled at him; it ducked away and made its way over to First Enchanter Irving, bouncing around his feet.
Timid sniffed at Knight Commander Greagoir's boot, hopping up with its frozen paw to tap the man on the nose.
The older man blinked. It was reminiscent of when Olett was just a babe, her first time in the tower. She was under the influence of pure lyrium, still, faintly breathing; the rabbit hopped over to its mistress, landing on her chest and one great hop disappeared and in its place a fae drake, A tiny dragon with the brilliant colors of butterfly wings, warm airs surrounded the creature, they all looked on amazed by what they were witnessing.
They knew the elf with them was different, but never knew how different until today. The fae drake blew a few rings of fire, flying through them as if it were fighting for their amusement.
Cullen focused on his charge, watched as her lidded eyes darted about, taking in her sleeping form until she was as beautiful as when she was awake, stealing his facial expressions to not give off any signal of his ever-growing fondness for her. He felt a hand on his sword arm.
A hushed whisper came from the Knight Commander "We all do, boy."
Cullen looked at Greagoir questioningly before he turned his attention back to the girl lying next to his knee. The drake, now on his shoulder, trilled, rubbed his cheek, shifted once more in a puff of smoke, gone.
Irving stepped up. Her father, of sorts. "You love her, we can see it in your eyes even though your face does not show it." Irving chuckled slightly. Greagoir agreed.
Greagoir took the sword from his hand and sheathed it back to Cullen's back.
"Relax, Sir, she is coming around." They all looked as she stirred; she opened her eyes for the briefest moment as the lyrium coated her aqua eyes silver, then her normal color came back just as quickly.
"This girl is special, the quickest Harrowing ever, her will is strong." Irving smiled through his thick grey beard.
"Take her to her room. Her things need to be moved to the next floor." Greagoir made sure Cullen had a good grip on her before he ordered the other Templars to move things into her new quarters.
Before Cullen stepped out of the chamber door, the commander called his attention again, "Watch over her for a while, talk to her as she sleeps." The older man nodded and left Cullen to his duty.
Cullen carried her to her room after she came out of the Harrowing unscathed. She had succeeded, only to wake for a moment to smile at her victory. As he carried her to her room, she stayed asleep in his arms.
"You had me so worried, Miss Sur… Olett." He whispered as he moved the hair from her eyes when he finally reached her room, did not hear another entering. With the soft clearing of someone's throat, he stiffened. With a nod of his head he left the young girl quickly went back to his duties, leaving Jowan to tend to her when she woke.
The day had passed quietly into the night when she stirred. "Hey, you're finally awake. I'm so proud of you!" Jowan beamed.
"Jowan, I did it?"
With an elated shake of his raven head, Jowan helped her to sit up, pressing a cup of water into her hands. "They said it was one of the quickest. I'm afraid I'll never pass mine. I'll need your help more than ever." Jowan frowned, scratching the back of his head. "Ah, I hate to spring this on you, but Irving wants to see you since you're awake and all." Jowan's smile returned. "Come on, he is in his study."
He helped her to her feet, seeing she was unsteady, and questioned if they should head to the healers instead. Deedolett put on a smile for her dearest friend, "Thank you Jowan, Di- did Cullen bring me here?" Jowan nodded with a grin.
"Cullen is enamoured."
"No, I do not believe…"
"As you are with him, why do you deny it? He has been hovering over you since… You know."
Olett had to think Jowan was right. It was a relief when Ser Waltgud transferred. Cullen kept a closer watch on her. She and several others were thankful for that slight gesture.
Using Jowan as a crutch most of the way, her head was still spinning, but they steadily made their way to the First Enchanter's study to find the First Enchanter along with Knight Commander Greagoir and an armor-clad guest talking amongst them.
Jowan excused himself. "I'll see you later. This looks too important for me." He hurried off.
Olett knocked softly on the door to not fully interrupt the conversation. They turned to her when she entered the room. Bowing her head slightly, she felt a wave of dizziness.
"You wished to see me, First Enchanter?" She blushed with a fever.
"Yes, my dear, I would like to introduce you to Duncan, of the Grey Wardens." Irving motioned with his hand leading the way to the third gentleman standing next to Greagoir. Looking her over as she came closer, he could see her pupils dilating and her breathing heavy.
"Greetings, Deedolett Surana, Mage of Kinloch Hold…" With a wavered curtsey Duncan, Irving and Greagior reached to see she had not hit the stone floor.
Initial response upon hearing her name, caused Duncan to do the same. 'Can it be?' The rouge recalled a name similar uttered some decades before. "Greetings, young lady, a pleasure to meet you. All is well I take it?"
He was tall, his skin was the same caramel as hers, his black hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, his face had a thick black beard and his dark eyes were warm and friendly, with a hint of sadness to them. His voice was husky as it tickled her ears when he spoke.
Deedo smiled warmly. "Yes, all is well, thank you. May I ask why you summoned me, First Enchanter?"
"He is here to recruit new Grey Wardens for the King." Irving, holding her elbow to steady her.
With a slight nod, Olett turned to the First Enchanter. "I see. Is there anything else that you needed of me?" She wished to talk more, but she was feeling hot and chilled at the same time.
Irving placed a hand on her lower back. She was swaying. "Could you see Duncan gets to his room, then straight to the infirmary."
"I will, Knight Commander. Sir Duncan if you will." She led him to the door, unsteady.
Duncan studied her with interest. More than once he had to catch her, she insisted she was well. A thankful nod for his gesture she tucked her loosened hair behind her ears. A small golden earring shimmered, the shape of her ear, he had seen similar ear and adornment. Quiet recently.
Duncan amused himself for finding something as simple as ones ear worth remembering. It was coincidental in his mused theory, Teyrn Loghain's charge and the elven mage guiding him share this minor similarity.
"Your quarters Sir. I wish you well with your recruitment." Taking her leave with an incline of her head, another similar gesture, between the two, that stood out. Amused once more bid her good evening.
Deedolett left Duncan to rest, asked a few of the apprentices to tend to the visitor. Another wave rolled in her stomach this time
Olett stopped mid way once she was out of sight of the Grey Warden. A shake of her head to steady herself, her bun loosened, she took a few deep breaths, carried on. Was near where her friend was standing, wishing to thank Cullen for being there for her harrowing.
"Hello, Sir." She kept her voice low. The feeling of the room spinning caused her to place her hand on the wall. When he turned to face her, she smiled kindly.
"Miss Surana." He drew a deep breath, and she shook him from his thoughts. "Hello." Seeing her wobble, he reached for her arm. "Are you well?"
With a smile, she felt her face growing warmer. "I just came by to thank you for being at my Harrowing, and seeing me to my room."
"You are welcome; They chose me to… if you…" He frowned slightly and realized he had not yet let go of her arm. Releasing her, he looked away in embarrassment.
Missing the slight warmth of his touch, Olett swallowed. "I understand. It is your duty, with all my studies I had confidence that I was going to succeed. I wish to be like the Light of Ferelden." She placed a hand on his arm. His armor was cool, bringing his attention back to her.
She dropped her hand, feeling too heavy to hold up, then leaned on the wall for support. He looked away, mainly to see if others were or could be watching. He thought for certain she could hear his heart pounding against his breastplate.
"Cullen, are you able to talk right now?" She asked, knowing the First Enchanter instructed her to head to the infirmary.
"You can talk to me anytime, Miss Surana." He smiled briefly, then rubbed the back of his neck. Still not looking in her direction.
Olett felt a tickle in her stomach. "Now, please?" She sounded urgent. Cullen looked at her. He almost went to protest, but saw her leaning against the wall. He just could not say no, not to her.
They walked down the hall in silence; she needed to get to the infirmary she felt incredibly light-headed, and it didn't seem like it was passing. Olett stumbled over her own feet, fell sideways into the door of a private study, the door was slightly ajar, Cullen knee jerk reaction to catch her, caused him to lose his footing, turning himself to land with a loud clunky ring to the stone floor with the Elven mage secured to his chest.
"Miss Surana, are you injured?" More concerned with her wellbeing, he heard the door sound with a click. Olett's heart was throbbing in her ears. The loud ringing sound of his armor hitting the floor did nothing to ease her.
"I am well, you?" She looked up through her loose, fawn-colored hair, with her hands pressed against the plate of his armor, cool to the touch she was fevered.
"You do not look well. Has something happened?" He moved her loose strands of hair from her eyes. Her cool aqua eyes always amazed him. He had been close to her before, but this close he was looking into the clearest of lakes. Almost a glow in the firelight. His breath hitched, and his heart was deafening in his ears.
She balanced herself laying her hands on his cool armor, looking into his hazel eyes she noticed the small gold flecks, and he smelled of summer, his ginger-colored hair seemed so soft, as they lay there under the sconce above them, they lost in their own world, just them the sound of the flickering flames Olett placed her head down on the cool armor.
She took a deep breath, raised her head, "Yes sorry, I am well, I need to get to the infirmary." Olett went to push herself off of him, but Cullen had his arms protectively around her.
"Olett." He tested her name for the first time, not calling her 'Miss or Mage Surana.' He flustered then slowly rubbed his hands up her back, resting at her shoulders, "Deedolett…"
They flirted yes, always stealing glances at each other, playing small tricks along with Jowan, quiet moments while she buried in her books when he oversaw par his duty at the library but, this was different, they were completely alone, unguarded, and if they just close the distance maybe, just…
A knock sounded quietly on the door, alerting them. She tried to back away slowly, reassured by a tender stroke to her cheek. She returned one in kind. He helped Olett to sit up, Cullen on his own. Swiftly lifted her into his arms, cradling her as she closed her eyes and sighed, her head feeling heavy.
With a soft second knock, the door opened Cullen carried the Elven mage to the infirmary. Leaving her once they arrived, he nodded at her soft smile of thanks, then returned to his previous post.
Jowan caught Cullen on his return, inquiring about his friend's whereabouts, saying where he last left her. Jowan headed there, almost forgetting what he needed to speak to her about.
Seeing she was being treated, he said he would see her tomorrow when she was feeling better.
Jowan met with Olett in the library as she was finishing putting away books. Jowan gushed about his new girlfriend.
"You have a girlfriend, I am so happy for you, who is she?" Olett assumed she was a young mage, Jowan shook his head, his hair dangling in his face the happiest of smiles, he seemed to float, he grabbed her by the hand and led her to the prayer room. He introduced not a mage but an Initiate.
There had always been talks of who was with whom around Kinloch, gossip. They could always be damning.
The rules that are inherently doctrine by the Chantry, 'There shall be no romantic unions between the Templar and Mages.'
Some rules are always bent, late-night rendezvous in the kitchen larder, or private studies. This rule in Kinloch was bent so much so rumors of favorites were lit, much after the birth of a mage child some years ago.
Jowan was ecstatic. Olett had taken notice of his wandering mind when they would study together, his minor distractions, his scurrying off when it was time to clean up. Olett introduced the young woman as she stared at the girlfriend Jowan spoke of, who was equally enamored with her best friend.
"This is Lily, Lily my sister Olett." He proudly placed an arm around the young woman's shoulders.
Olett had an awkward smile, head tilted slightly, "Not mage?" She thought about what just left her lips. Cullen was no mage, either. A good thing Jowan was so enraptured he took no notice of what she said.
Jowan smiled at Lily as he answered his friend. "What?"
"Nothing." Deedolett's eyebrows rose as she extended her hand in greeting.
"Pleasure to meet you, miss." The young woman smiled and nodded in return, "Jowan has told me much about you, you are prettier in person."
Jowan admitted he wanted to live a life with Lily, but with that, he would need to get to his phylactery.
"You are serious." She looked between the two of them, "You realize that is near impossible." Her mind formed nothing, nothing at all came to mind as she looked between them, they spoke madness.
Olett backed away, her mouth open and closed several times, trying but could not form the words. Her best friend, the man she grew up with within the tower from the time she met him, wanted to escape. She would have wished for herself, but not to this extent… then she knew she was lying to herself.
Jowan grabbed her hands, his eyes pleading. And she would never say no. This plan they concocted did not sit well with her, she almost did not want to help, it sounded all too cryptic to her, but he pleaded with her over and over, only when she nodded her agreement, Deedolett frowned in knowing, 'If it were I, he would.', "I will return shortly." She left the two of them and once out of their sight took off at breakneck speed, past Cullen to Irving's study.
She reached the study of the First Enchanter, only stopping to catch her breath to tell Irving of Jowan's plan, how she needed to get to the storage room for the Rod of Fire.
Irving had suspected Jowan of his recent activities for a while and not wanting to scare Deedolett into forgoing Jowan's plan. Irving covered the papers on his desk then retrieved a form from the drawer he filled her in on part of the details to get Jowan and Lilly to go ahead with their plans, and he quickly signed the form.
"First Enchanter are you mad?"
With a shake of his head "There is a reason I must allow this. Hurry or they will suspect something." he handed the girl the form needed. She hurried with the form in hand, headed to Owain. Irving went to collect Greagior.
Owain greeted Deedolett in his monotone manner, Tranquil, what becomes of a mage, of their choosing, or by force. Cut off from the fade, devoid of emotion. With her thanks and a sympathetic smile, she returned to Jowan and Lily. Then the trio went to the bowels of Kinloch Hold.
They found it; the room was chilly, Olett felt uncomfortable, as if there were an unseen present in the room. She could feel it creeping up her spine. It was obvious the two others with her felt nothing; they found his phylactery, recovered, then promptly destroyed. Upon the many vials in the room, hers was not. Would she destroy it if it had been? Would she hide it, smashing it as Jowan did?
"They can no longer hunt me if we leave tonight my love." Jowan was leaving. A multitude of questions with no answers, thoughts with nary a solid form, congested her mind. Jowan was leaving tonight. The thought saddened her. Olett was happy for him, without a doubt, and she would miss him. It was wrong for their blood to be used to track down like wild beasts. Did the Chantry believe them beast?
Olett pondered that for a moment. Ser Waltgud treated them like cattle. For his own personal sport, Cullen treated them as he would a friend. He was kind. Several of the Templar were, some were harsh, like the Knight Commander. "He is not harsh, strict." Olett corrected herself.
Could this be the reason for Jowan leaving, he had not told her he planned to leave. Where would they go? They grew together here. How would they live? Absently lost in her thoughts, Olett straggled behind, her face warm. Jowan was leaving to never return. Her best friend was leaving her.
Heading up the way they came, all seemed clear, Olett trailing behind the happy couple as they smiled, holding hands, chatting amongst themselves. Her fingers twirling the end of her braid, Olett pictured herself and Cullen as the two in front of her.
A tinge of pain gripped her heart. Would he be willing to live a life with her if she asked? More invading thoughts floated until they reached the first floor once more, pushing the great wooden door open; Irving and Greagoir with several heavily armed Templars awaited them.
Stepping from behind Jowan and Lily, she turned her head to them, uncertain of how she felt now, "Forgive me." Olett apologized, facing The Knight Commander "I refused to say no to my friend, I did what I thought was right."
"You told?" the hairs on the back of Olett's neck stood up. She could hear in his voice the disappointment.
Olett turned to face her friend of many years, nodded. "Yes, I… I am worried for you. Scared, honestly." Olett felt defeated. "I knew not what to do. I know I have disappointed you. Please forgive me?"
Jowan looked at Olett, and to the Templars at her back, "I thought you were my sister, and understood."
"You worried me! You had shirked your studies, y-you excluded me when you bring Lily to my attention today!" Olett's face contorted. She spun on the Knight Commander. "Do with me what you will. Just do not punish Jowan, please." She calmly spoke to Greagior and Irving, then stiffened as she awaited their judgment, determined.
Irving stepped forward with a nod, put a hand on her shoulder, and moved the young girl behind him. Greagoir needed to do his duty, as he instructed the Templars, to take Lily away. Jowan, held by his arms, roared. "Keep your hands off of her!" Sent a mind blast that stunned the Templars, forcing them to release him. Lily struggled against her captors.
Olett was frantic. Irving and Greagior hindered her from approaching. A gust of wind stumbled the older men back. Olett needed to calm Jowan down.
Jowan did the unthinkable.
It happened so fast, the scene before her played as if she were watching a dream. Jowan reached into his robes, extracting a dagger, plunging it into the palm of his hand. The sound of yelling and clanking armor rang off the stone, echoing loudly in her ears.
Deedo could not believe what she was seeing. Greagior pulled her back, sending her to land into Irving's arms. Her eyes widened in horror as she assisted a Blood Mage. Her best friend was Maleficarum. Jowan had practiced Blood Magic. The whispers between the mages about the dead rats were true. The bandages on his fingers and arms true.
Jowan extended his hands as blood swirled around him as a shield filling the room with a metallic smell. He lashed out; the blood forming bloody whip-like daggers, killing the men that were going to take Lily away. Deedo saw blood-shot eyes boring into hers. Fury as Jowan lashed out once more, his chance to kill others halted as Olett's slight gesture summoned an invisible warrior blocking some of the blood piercing whip. Olett knocked Irving back. She stood between Jowan and Greagior as she, Jowan's next target, had her back to her friend, felt a sharp lash along the length of her back. Her small body pushed the older man down, from the force, to the floor.
Jowan looked at the people laying at his feet. He reached his bloody hand out for his love to take it. "Lily!" She adamantly refused. The woman he loves now is terrified of him. He looked over at Deedolett whose back he entirely covered in blood. She was injured because of him, he came to his senses. Panicked, he ran, knocking out one Templar after the other out of Kinloch into the night.
Olett checked the First Enchanter over, also surveying the damage left as Jowan has escaped. Olett's throat tightened. How did she miss the signs, had she excused them because of their friendship? She helped the older men to his feet.
Duncan arrived a moment later with some Templars as they removed the bodies. He recruited Deedolett into the ranks of Grey Wardens. The only requirement was she had to leave that night.
"This is my punishment?" The mage was in shock. She was to leave her home, Olett thought they would hold her in the detention rooms, the only place she knew. Would she be able to return? With a heavy heart, she looked at Irving and confirmed that she may not return.
As if the wind knocked from her lungs slowly she made way to her quarters, hardly broken in just after her Harrowing and tears filled her eyes as she looked around, she packed what little belongings she had then Irving knocked once with a decorative box in hand.
"This belongs to you, my dear. It came with you when you first arrived, those many years ago. I will miss you, you have been like a daughter to me but you must go. I had decided that you were to be the mage to leave with the Grey Wardens. May the Maker grant me to see your lovely face again one day." He gave her a tight hug as he wished her well, leaving downhearted back to his study.
Cullen came in as soon as he'd heard. Waiting for Irving to leave, he saw her looking at the box in her hands, knowing she had not used blood magic he felt for her and so desperately wanted to accompany her to wherever she headed.
Cullen saw that her back covered in drying blood, and he looked to see if someone had injured her from the poor vantage he had. "Deedolett, are you well?"
She turned sharply, eyes and face red, puffy; steamed tears from the corners of her eyes. She dabbed them away with the sleeve of her robe, smearing blood on her face.
Deedo stammered, "I… he… Jowan… not me… I did not know…" her hand went to her face, she turned her back to him; dropping the box on the bed, she could not face him now, not after this.
Cullen's heart tightened as he watched this slip of a girl crumble. He reached over and pulled her elbow, turning her to face him. He raised her chin and looked at her with sympathy; she wiped her eyes dry as best she could with her robe, smearing blood on her cheeks.
Cullen chuckled softly, placed his gauntleted hands on her face, listening to the voice in the back of his head. He stepped back, removing his gauntlets, placing them down as he stepped to face her again.
Placing both of his warm hands on her face, wiping tear trails with his bare thumbs, leaned in gently, kissed her forehead, pulling back slightly as he hovered near her lips, Cullen grazed her lips ever so softly as if to prolong this moment.
Deedo put her hands up to his breastplate, as most of her worry seemed to melt away. Cullen kissed her forehead tenderly. Then, taking his necklace, he had since childhood, placing it in her small hands.
Cullen spoke quietly. He could feel his emotions trying to give way. "I actually had this before I came to the chantry."
He had handed her an oval-shaped pendant with a sword encased in flames. Deedo looked at it for a moment and smiled warmly.
"But I have nothing to give you, oh..." She went over to her bed and handed him her wooden box. It had a simple carving of a horned horse on the lid with a mabari back to back.
They looked at each other for a long moment before he rubbed her cheek with his thumb. He felt himself becoming too emotional and backed away before turning to the door, gathering his gauntlets and leaving.
Hurrying to the Knight Commander, "I wish to go as well."
Greagior looked at Cullen, with a shake of his head, "That is not possible, we need you here."
Cullen gritted his teeth, his fit balled tightly. "Yes, Sir."
Deedo's eyes misted over once again as she placed the necklace around her neck, and found the thin piece of leather smelled of him, summer and elderflowers, she looked at the pendant once more before tucking it into her robes and exited her room with a slightly less heavy heart.
They sailed from the Tower, Duncan sharing with the young mage his first visit to Kinloch, as the time of year seemed to be the same. When they reached the bank and started away from the shore, the horses stabled at the Spoiled Princess were ready to go. Olett asked if she could ride the cart that carried the supplies they were bringing with them.
Thoughts of the place she grew up, ejected from her home, in doing what was right. Duncan's husky voice that tickled her ears interrupted her thoughts. "We will be in Ostagar in a few weeks." Duncan placed a hand on her back, leading her forward, helped her into the cart, taking a seat next to her. She watched with sadness as the Tower slowly disappeared from view.
Olett, now displaced, from her friends, from her home, and with her, she carried a name that was living similarly like the Deedo before her, "I will be back." Clutching tightly the 'The Light of Ferelden.' In her hands.
Ostagar, Kocari Wilds, Ferelden, Month 6 - Justinian, 9:29 of the Dragon Age.
The Grey Wardens were in unease, Duncan approached the King, who, alongside with Loghain, poured over the strategy once more.
"Your Majesty, I sent Alistair and the recruits into the Wilds—they should be back before nightfall."
"Ah, very well." Looking around the ruins, Cailan turned to see the Tower of Ishal piercing the sky: "I want Alistair, Olett and the recruits to go light the signal fire for when your troops advance." Speaking to Loghain, thinking for a moment, "We will send Ser Kal'an with them as well."
"I agree. Has anyone seen Ser Kal'an? He should be here." Loghain had inquired the day before, and still no word reached him.
One guard leaned to hear another just walking up. "Sir, he was last seen two days ago."
Loghain grunted his response, going over the maps, placing a flag from the latest report.
"I am sure he is training with the Wardens." Cailan chuckled, knowing his friend, his brother, is dutiful in regimen.
Duncan shook his head: "He has not been within the camp in some time. Your Majesty."
Cailan feigned to look over the map in front of him: "Well, when he shows, inform him of the plan."
The setting sun held on as Warden Alistair with Olett, Ser Jory, and Daveth came from the wood as instructed by Duncan, to gather fresh Darkspawn blood. Held aloft by her butterfly-winged dragon of air, the form of Ser Kal'an Swiftleaf.
Many stood about murmuring as they filed one after the other, lining up to see the body. Olett was no healer, and no healer among them. She kept looking at the young man; he looked so peaceful—not like before, his body riddled with poison-tipped arrows. The man looked to be asleep, save the small trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth, as if he would wake any moment.
Alistair instructed, "We take him to the King." Olett agreed.
"Get the King!" someone shouted as another took off. The sudden shout caused Olett to jump. She had never seen a body up-close. Save for the rats that died in the tower, she would hardly consider them people. Olett did not like that everyone was gawking at the Elven man. The sound of footsteps approaching.
"What has happened?" King Cailan came running, stopping before Alistair and Olett, looking questioningly expectant between the two of them.
Alistair was shielding the body floating behind him. Olett's arched brows knit, nodded, pushing Alistair to the side. "We stumbled upon an ambush ... Ah... A few men who lost their lives." She began loud enough for the King to hear.
Cailan froze, his mind went numb, he could feel his heart constricting in his chest, "No," careful steps he took. Reaching he touched his friend's head: "Kal'an? Brother? No, you are jesting... You know, I would keep my word. Wake up... wake up!" he shook his shoulders, screaming for his childhood friend, his Godmother's son, to wake up.
Olett tore. She pulled the note from her robe pocket, written in blood, the last words of the fallen Knight. She read the words the whole time in the Wilds, all the way back to camp, the strange markings that she knew who murdered him, to tell his mother, Deedolit, and his Eteir he loves them.
They alerted Loghain, "What is going on here! Why are you all standing about!" As the people around went to their previous tasks, Loghain then stopped to see a weeping Cailan clinging to Kal'an.
"Your Majesty, what are you doing? You should not do this in front of your men."
Olett looked around. People were still gawking, and as soon as Loghain stepped closer, a column of fire sprang up slowly around the King, his General, the Knight, Alistair, Jory and Daveth. The sound of the flames drowned out, as well as keeping the eye from prying any further.
"Ser Loghain? This was in his hands." Olett held out the note for Teyrn Loghain to see. Taking it from her, he looked it over, and he could not make out the decorative markings, but it was blood. He knew that. "He is… gone, My Lord. Some days ago, we saw others... they..." She could not bring herself to say anything more.
Loghain cleared his throat, it was tightening, steeling himself before he uttered a sound, "Your Majesty, you must think of your men—pull yourself together."
The sound of Cailan's continued sobs, "Right..." His eyes glassy, face blotchy, he looked to the Elven girl, nodding, she came to him, placed a hand on his shoulder, sending cooling through his tunic, lessening the grief he surely felt. "Thank you."
Bowing her head, she looked at the Knight: "I would like a word with you." Loghain walked back to his tent after issuing instructions for Kal'an to be brought to his encampment.