Hawke

Like many children who come into the realization of their Maker-given gift of magic, I had discovered mine at the early age of 9. My siblings were no more than toddlers then, and there is still that futile hope within my mother that there needn't be any more apostates in this family.

I was the first one to disappoint her.

But it didn't last for very long.

My father didn't like that I preferred to go out and interact with the other children as much as I did, although as cautious as he is, he and mother wanted us all to have as normal of a childhood as possible. He was worried however that my gifts would manifest while I played with the others and they will come running to the templars.

One time, there was a rumor that a child from a nearby village had been captured by the templars, reported by his own father, disgusted at the thought of having a monster as his own son. The caravan passed by our village and I saw the poor boy from behind bars, chained and gagged, his face marred by dried streaks of tears and even blood. It was only for a moment but our eyes met, and I saw the fear and the anger in his eyes then. He looked at me as if he wanted me to spring him out of there, that I, of all people, should understand. They stopped by the Chantry to rest and I heard they are to continue to the Circle at the earliest tomorrow.

One thing I noticed about the templars from the Circle is that they are unlike the ones that we usually see in the Chantry. There is a hardness to them, a cold, calculating gaze, some exhibit an overt abhorrence towards mages and I didn't doubt for a moment that they—or at least one of them— were beating that boy in cold blood, just for being discovered as a mage. I don't know why, but I felt relieved knowing that they would rest in the Chantry for the night.

The Revered Mother won't let them harm him, I hope. She is nice, at least, for a servant of such an oppressive institution.

That afternoon I came home from my hunt, leaving some rabbits on the table when I stumbled upon father. I flinched at his stern gaze and looked down.

"Illia, what did I say about hunting in the woods? What could've happened if a bandit saw you, hm? Or worse yet, a slaver. Do you remember what I told you about Tevinter slaves?"

I looked down, a chill running through my spine. Father had resorted to instilling nightmarish images into my mind in an attempt to contain me. I admit, it has started to work, but I still can't bear the thought of just staying here, hiding like some sort of invalid. I feel a sort of responsibility for my siblings, who aren't even old enough to fend for themselves. And I'd rather that Father save up whatever meager coin we have instead of being out there haggling with slimy merchants right in front of the Chantry. Father had always told us that nothing will happen, he can conceal his magic, but I'm still afraid that the templars would take him away from us.

I bit my lip and said, "I-I just wanted to help, is all."

Carefully, I looked up and saw that his gaze had softened. "Illia, you know you don't need to do that. I can—"

"There are templars here, Father. Templars, from the Circle. They captured a boy from a nearby village and they're right there in the Chantry." I said, trying to speak as bravely as I can.

"They're not like the templars here. They're…" I remembered the look on the templar's face, the one who had that boy in tow. "They're something else, Father," It seemed the fear I felt was evident in my voice because his eyes widened and he kneeled in front of me, holding me by the shoulders.

"Is that what's going to happen to us?" I looked at my siblings from the other room, playing by themselves. Bethany laughing, pointing at Carver when he fell onto his face as he chased after her.

"No." My father said, his voice jolting me to awareness. "I will not let that happen to you and your siblings." He then pulled me into a hug and I was taken aback. This was so unlike father, but I returned his embrace. "I will keep you all safe, Illia, even at the cost of my own life."

Mine, too, father. I thought. Those words wouldn't be welcome in this household, but I couldn't not do anything.

—

That night, my curiosity got the better of me. I couldn't stop thinking of that boy. I keep thinking, what if I were in that cage? True, my gifts, if I do have them, have not yet materialized. But I am under no illusion that they might not. I am the daughter of a mage after all. And soon, my siblings could have them too. I woke up in the middle of the night to sneak into the Chantry. In the back of my mind, a voice kept telling me that I shouldn't, that this is wrong, that I'm going to put myself into trouble, but I silenced it. Normally, I sleep beside Carver when Bethany is with mother and father, but tonight, I fell asleep near the window, convincing my parents that I wanted to take watch. Father agreed but didn't want to leave me alone. I opened my eyes to peek at him, and I saw him sleeping at our dining table. I suddenly feel grateful that I learned how to hunt from my friend, because I could apply the skills I've learned in sneaking off as well. Taking a slow deep breath, I gently eased myself off of the table, being as silent as I possibly could. As I moved, I was looking at father, wary that he might feel my movements. I froze when I heard him groan once and I suddenly moved back to lie down. I waited for a couple more minutes before getting up, but this time the doubts raged more strongly in my mind. I should just stop. How could I possibly face against those templars?

But that's when I heard it. A child, screaming. There was something about that scream that made me feel a fear I've never known. At first I thought it could be the boy, but no. It was a girl's voice. The scream jolted my father awake, and the sound of heavy footsteps clanging against the ground rang outside. I jumped off of the table and ran to my father. "It's the templars," I whispered. "Father, is that…?"

"I'm afraid it is," my father said breathlessly. His face was pale, and I immediately understood what was going on through his mind. What if it were me? Or Bethany?

Suddenly, mother came out of our bedroom, with a yawning Bethany and a grumpy Carver in tow. "Malcolm, was that a little girl screaming?"

"Illia, what's going on?" Bethany said, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Father stood up all of a sudden, making all our heads turn to his direction. "I'm going outside to check."

We all reacted simultaneously.

"Father, no!" I said.

"It's the middle of the night!"Mother said.

"Can I come with?" Carver said, excitement dancing in his eyes.

Bethany on the other hand, started crying. Mother tried to calm her down, while father told Carver that no, he can't, and he should be with his sisters.

"There are templars outside!" I said, trying to stop him.

Mother looked at me, her eyes wide with fear, before turning to look at father.

"Maker's breath, Malcolm! There are templars outside and you're just going to leave us here? What about your children?"

He turned sharply at mother and said, "I am going out there to keep you safe! I can hide in the shadows. I need to know what's going on, Leandra." They looked at each other in the way they always do, as if a wordless message is being exchanged between them. I never understood those exchanges, but this time, when mother looked at me, I finally did.

Father was talking about me. He wanted to know what was going on so that he could prepare me for it, because this is to be our life now, and we'll have to hide a lot better when my gifts finally manifest. Mother just took a breath and nodded, a pained look on her face.

"I'm sorry, Leandra."

"Come here, Carver. Let us go back to sleep."

"But I want to go outside!"

The anger inside of me boiled over and I couldn't explain it but I walked toward him and shouted, "You're not going anywhere, Carver!" Everyone was silent. "You're staying here, with mother and Bethany. And that's final."

He was obviously shocked by this and he looked like he was about to cry but he just frowned at me. "I'm not listening to you!"

"Carver, please," Mother said. "Listen to your sister. You can play outside tomorrow. For now, let us sleep."

They proceeded inside the bedroom and Carver looked at me with such hostility. "I hate you," he said then followed after them.

I just stood there and when I looked at the door, Father was gone.