She was young then. Young and inexperienced. Young, inexperienced, and small. She was powerless back then. Yes, she was, so telling herself that should dull the pain, shouldn't it? It should help her not misplace the blame...But it didn't. She doesn't remember her past well. She knew she was happy once. Then there was blood.

Blood...screams...magic of a different kind. It drained her. Grass. Grass that was sticky. Sticky with what she wasn't sure. She didn't want to know. She stands up again. She had too or else her body might explode. She felt the sudden heat flood through it.

Someone had told her of this before. They warned her. What did they say though? She couldn't remember. She looks around and sees hands reaching out for her. They grab her and pull her in all directions. Her skin started tearing. She saw it fall apart and she bites her lip trying not to scream.

Then, she was awake. Her eyes were not held down by the weight of sleep anymore. No, if she could guess they were wide with terror. Panting heavily and trying not to be heard she stands up. She avoids hitting her head against the small bed above her own and looks around to make sure no one else had yet awakened.

She stoops low and quietly open the chest that sat at the foot of the bunk bed where she slept. She pulls out a necklace and squeezes it between her fingers. Then she pulls out a knife and sets it deep in her robe's folds. The cold steel could still be felt on her skin through the clothing.

She shuts the chest again before weaving her way through the other beds and students, some of whom slept awkwardly. So much so they were practically hanging off of there beds. Smoothly she avoids waking any of them, taking measured, deep breaths along the way to calm herself down. She enters the small room that branches off the main one.

"It was just a nightmare dear. Nothing to worry about." She says with a practiced calmness that helps ease her as she sits in front of a vanity. She sets down the necklace down before lighting one of the candles that sat on the vanity. She was happy to use it to bring some light into the dark hours of what she suspected was early dawn.

She picks up a hairbrush. She wasn't sure whose it was. She could never remember where she had sat her own down at, but it didn't matter. Most of the other apprentices didn't mind and she would be sure to clean it after. She starts at her hair, brushing the short mess it was from sleep.

"Now Neira, you know it was just a dream. Don't let it bother you so." She says, looking at herself in the mirror. She fixes the one braid in her hair. Adjusting and tightening the braid; she finishes brushing the short stock of red that barely went past her sharp, pointed ears.

She went over some spells and a few prayers before going back to her bed. She held a bottom bunk in the apprentice chambers but she would go through her Harrowing when she awoke again. She would become a full mage as long as everything went well for her. Irving had no doubt in her, she knew that, but she also knew many of the templars were anticipating it. It made her nervous and inside grew a fear of failing. She thought that was the worst thing that could happen.

She was wrong of-course. Something worse did happen. She passed.

How was she to know that Jowan would come to her, seeking out help, lying, using her? How was she to know she wouldn't be able to return to the tower until months after? She had done everything she could to help him, even kept it from Irving, her favorite mentor, who she respected more than anyone else. Still he ran, and still she missed him. He was her closest friend. Was.

He had been a blood mage and this outcome saddened her. She felt betrayed by his secret, her best friend had lied to her and she was casted out of her home as a result. Still, Duncan was there and he saved her. He brought her to the Grey Wardens. He had given her a new home. A home with friends. Friends she could and would protect. Friends she would die for. Friends who gave her a reason to fight. To live. Friends who were family now. Ones she rarely saw. That dream was the last dream she ever had as a mage of the circle. Sometimes she wishes it had been a better one. Sometimes she wishes it was her last dream ever.

"Warden, are you alright?"

Neira turns around to see Oghren there. He had his hand on his belt and was leaning against the door frame. For a moment she had thought Leliana was there, calling for her to wake and see the new day or to spirit her away from here and see the night in a different light. "Yes. I'm alright. I'm thinking. Being an Arl is very different than simply being a mage or traveling as a grey warden."

Oghren nods and stops leaning against the frame of the doorway. He stands up straighter before crossing his arms. "Someone's out front for you commander." The way he said it. No friendly tone, no hint of the alcohol he had undoubtedly already consumed today.

She purses her lips a quick moment before smiling. Surana nods and stands, leaving behind the memories her head was pondering on. She had defeated the blight. It was her hand that held the blade that killed the dragon. Her magic was the last thing the dragon felt before it vanished. The final moment before Morrigan disappeared. "Tell them I am coming Oghren." He gives her a curt nod but doesn't move to leave yet. Even he could tell when she had more to say. Even he knew when her mind was not clear. When there was moments she shouldn't be alone. Was she really that obvious?

"You know, sometimes I miss the days when we were just allowed to walk around until we found trouble." Surana offers trying to lighten the mood. To speak to a friend.

Oghren smiles. "Is that an invitation?"

She laughs. "Yes, let's spend a week away from all titles, walking around an unknown land until someone tries to kill us. Knowing the company we use to keep it shouldn't be that long until crows, or assassins of another kind come our way and give us some fun." She jokes.

"Aye. Or until we get drunk to our fancies' delight at the nearest tavern."

"Oghren you're always drunk. You've emptied my cask more times than I care to count or my employees care to admit. They have shared their annoyance about having to constantly refill it Mr. Dwarf."

He laughs. "Well you need to get a bigger cask then. One with better ale to. The kind you get taste of rotten wood. You should try the stuff I make sometimes."

"I don't think I could appreciate it as much as Wynne did, my friend."

"Aye that woman knew her brew. 'Specially fer a mage."

"Yes. Yes she did."

Neira follows him out and through the halls to the main. She looks around and sees Anders standing in his usual spot. The same went for Woosley and Varel. Whom seems to have pressing matters on his mind from the way his face was contorted.

"Yes Seneschal Varel?" She asks looking around the room. No one was there except for their usual company.

"I have some letters for you. I was told they were urgent and that they would want your immediate attention." Varel says giving a look to the dwarf that stood behind the arl.

"But I was told someone was here for me."

"They were, but then they left."

"Do you know who they were?"

"No. A messenger was all. Refused to give the letters to the private outside. Almost didn't give them to me ma'am."

"Alright let me see them then."

"Here you go Arl."

Neira takes the letters and thanks him. She turns to take her leave back to her room, looking over the letters as she walks away. One had a strange seal she guesses to be quite foreign from Ferelden. It was a well ordained, intricate seal. If she were to guess it would mean Leliana had written and sent it. That made a smile cross her lips before she hid it. There were two other letters as well.

One simply had a symbol of a crow flying between two pointed ears. Most likely it was thought of to be a clever joke. The third had nothing on the outside. Neither on the front nor back of the letter. She turns the letters over in her hands before opening her bedroom door. She walks over to her small shelf, setting the letters on her desk that sat in the right corner of the room, farthest from the door.

"You aren't going to read them?"

"No, not tonight Oghren. Tonight I am tired. It has been a long two days."

"Two days? Feels like weeks more like it."

Neira nods slowly in agreement with the disgruntled dwarf. "That it does."

"Well let's get going then." He says with a toss of his hands, into the air, before resting one hand on his axe's handle and the thumb of the other in hole in his belt.

"Where do you think we're going?" Neira questions not really feeling up to the task. Whatever the task was.

"To the tavern to drink your woes away."

"In amaranthine?"

"Yep. Unless there's one around here."

"Why?"

"To get you out and about. Ya need to socialize warden and spend a night forgetting your woes. Plus your cask is empty."

"Of course it is." She looks back at her bed temptingly. Neira longed for the sleep that called to her. It almost hurt to turn it away. "Well I guess a couple drinks couldn't hurt. Are we bringing Anders?"

"Nope. Just you and me warden. Let's see if you've learned to hold your drink any better since the blight."

"Oh I think you're going to be surprised."

"You've got the same spunk but last time that spunk got you stuck in a water basin with Morrigan and Sten watchin' over you aaaand cleaning youse up."

"Yes but it was better than how you ended up on the roof of some poor bloke's home. Yelping for your mommy in your drunken stupor." Neira retaliates, earning her a few mutters from Oghren.