Thank you AresxBellona and Brelaina for your review. Now I'm glad I waited to post this chapter. (Teehee :D) Again, thank you Brelaina for being my beta reader. Oh! I also just recieved my Wacom Tablet. Deviations on the way! ^_^
Ch. 9 Good-bye
Violet held the bar of soap tightly in her clasped hands. Although it was wrapped in paper, she still wanted to be careful not to drop it. She hummed to herself as she made her way back to the Chantry. The village was full with life that day and she looked around in awe. She only stepped beyond the Chantry gates to tag along during errand runs. It was thrilling for her to venture on her own for a change. As excited as it was, though, she wanted to hurry back to Alistair.
She was so caught up day dreaming that she didn't notice the rowdy gang of men coming her way. One of the men accidentally bumped into her and she landed hard on her rear. The man heard the pitiful yelp and looked down in time to watch the little girl fall. She winced as she rubbed where it stung and throbbed.
"Oh! I'm so –" he began to apologize, but stopped himself as soon as he noticed her ears. "Oh," he said flatly. He staggered and took a swig from the bottle he held. "Just a sodding elf girl."
Violet looked up at him angrily. "You have to say sorry!" she said sternly.
The man was back to conversing with his fellow drunkards, but the command drew all of their attention.
"What did you say to me, elf?" he said, turning back to her. His voice was raspy. His hair was a dirty blonde and unkempt. Stubble was growing on his chin. His eyes were small and piercing as he glared at her. He held up his bottle to one of his friends and the man took it from him.
She felt herself starting to recoil. Those eyes… they bore into her. They reminded her. "You… have to say sorry," she said, softer. She didn't know if she should have said anything at all, but the sisters at the Chantry had taught her to always apologize for ill behavior; even if it wasn't her fault. She didn't think there were exceptions.
"Why you little sod!" He picked her up by the front of her dress. The soap she held fell to the ground. She screamed and started to claw at the man's hands, trying desperately to get away. "Know your place, elf!" he yelled and brought up his hand to strike her.
Violet was shaking with fear. The bandit leader's face flashed in her mind. Her mother and father's cries echoed in her ears. The blood, the smell, everything came rushing back in a wave of fury. Her body grew warm and tense. She could feel an energy flowing through her. It gave her strength.
"No!" she yelled, held out a hand, and watched as bolts of lightning shot toward his face. He screamed, let her go, and staggered backward. He gripped his face in agony before passing out.
Her hands still sparked and crackled with electricity. She was sitting on the ground, panting heavily, bewildered. What did I do? Her whole body continued to tremble.
The sound of clanking armor grew louder, but Violet paid no mind. Instead, she stared dumbfounded at the man lying unconscious in front of her. Her head was spinning and she watched, dazed, as his friends examined the burn wounds on his face. It sizzled and was forming big red blisters. What did I do?
"She's a mage!" Mother Eloise's voice screeched. The familiar voice finally drew her attention. She looked around and saw the villagers gathered around her, staring, fearful and shocked. The clanking stopped as the Templars came into view. Mother Eloise, Sister Linda, and Brother Kent (she recognized as the one who pulled her out of the well) also came running up beside them. "I can't believe I kept a mage in the Chantry!" Mother Eloise wailed. Sister Linda and Brother Kent looked at Violet with deep sorrowful expressions. "Quick! Get her out of here!" ordered the older woman.
The Templars walked closer. Mother Eloise turned on her heals with a huff and made her way back to the Chantry. Violet watched the Templars approach, still bewildered. "Where am I going?" she asked, but no one would answer her. One of the Templars raised a hand and the electricity pulsing around her hands subsided. "Where am I going!" she asked again, getting frantic. Her heart skipped a beat as they grabbed her arms.
"Let go!" she cried and started to struggle. "Alistair!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Sister Linda hunched over a little and let her head fall into her hands. Violet thought she heard a soft moan. Brother Kent flinched and looked away. "Alistair!" she called again, but there was no sign of him. Her eyes burned and warm tears rolled down her cheeks.
Alistair thought he heard his name being called from the village. He stopped midway of shoveling manure in the stable. His heart started to race. That sounded like Violet…
"Alistair!" the cry came again and he gasped. He was sure of it; Violet was calling him.
"Violet!" He threw the shovel near the fence and started running to the front of the Chantry. "I'm coming-" he started to say, but almost tripped trying to stop himself from bumping into Mother Eloise.
"Just where do you think you are going, boy?" she asked firmly.
"I heard Violet-" he began, but she interrupted him.
"You are supposed to be cleaning the stable. Now go."
"I need to get to Violet!" he fumed and ran around her.
"Ser Alric! Stop Alistair!" she commanded and the Templar turned around to see the little boy running in the group's direction.
He stepped in front of Alistair. "Woah, there!" he said and firmly held the boy's shoulders. Alistair shrugged him off and lunged forward. Ser Alric stopped him again. This time, he held him around his chest, keeping his arms from flailing. Alistair grunted angrily. The Templar looked up at Mother Eloise. Her arms were crossed and she glared with impatience.
"Take him back inside. We don't need to cause another scene."
Ser Alric looked back at the lad. He was still fighting, his eyes focused and determined. With a sigh, Ser Alric said, "Come on, Alistair. There's… nothing you can do."
"No! I have to get to her! She needs me!" he snarled. He snapped his head to look up at the Templar. "Why won't you let me go?"
He stood silent for a moment. His helmet hid his face, but there was pity in his eyes. Ser Alric looked back up to Mother Eloise. "Can't the boy at least say good –" he started to ask her, but she wouldn't have it.
"That wasn't a suggestion, Ser Alric. Bring him inside now; unless you want your supply of lyrium to be misplaced this month?" The revered mother glared.
Alistair knew that struck a nerve. He heard the Templar curse under his breath.
He tightened his grip and immediately started to drag him away.
"No!" Alistair yelled. "I have to get to Violet!" He pleaded. He could barely hear her cries now. I shouldn't have let her go alone, he thought angrily. He gritted his teeth and his stomach wretched. He wasn't going to lose her. She was the closest thing he had to family. He was supposed to protect her, but now that she screamed his name, now that she needed him most, he couldn't reach her. He yelled, anger flushed his face, and he pried himself free from the Templar's grasp. Sadly, before he could take two steps forward – before he could call her name – the Templar landed a hard fist to the back of Alistair's head. The boy fell to the ground unconscious.
Mother Eloise looked down at the still body; her eyebrows furrowed. "Carry him back to the shed," she ordered the Templar. "Hopefully you knocked him hard enough with that steel fist to make him forget about what just happened. Inform everyone that they are never to speak another word about the elf – especially to Alistair; whether he remembers or not."
"A mage," Mother Eloise muttered as she walked away. "Harboring an elf mage… I must pray for my sins…"
Ser Alric dropped his head with a sigh. "Maker have mercy," he whispered and gingerly picked up the small figure.
The revered mother was informed later that day that Alistair did, indeed, forget about the event that took place that morning and that everyone at the Chantry was avoiding his questions. All she said to her informant was, "Good."