Chapter Two: The First Step

Maker, my enemies are abundant.
Many are those who rise up against me.
But my faith sustains me; I shall not fear the legion,
Should they set themselves against me.

- Trials 1:1

x

"Is she going to be all right? What was she doing in the Hinterlands?" A curious voice asked.

"No one knows why she was there, but it looks like she was just sleeping; no wounds anywhere. Just a grumbling stomach wearing some messy old rags."

Valora's eyes fluttered open, and she gasped at the unrecognizable territory. She was in a building, on a small bed with a man in full armor and a woman in clean white robes looking down at her. She shot up in the cot, eyes darting around at the unfamiliar setting, stopping only to peer down at her new wardrobe. She seemed to have been bathed and clothed in a set of white robes of her own. Her hair was untangled, soft red strands laying in a smooth pool around her shoulders.

"Well, look who's awake," the woman spoke gently to her, as if Valora would break if she spoke too loud. "I suppose you're wondering where you are. Well, you were knocked out in the Hinterlands for one," she started, "and so our scouts brought you here. Welcome to Skyhold! Well, the infirmary of Skyhold."

The man and woman exchanged glances as Valora remained quiet, eyeing them with evident distrust. "What were you doing out in a dangerous place like that with no protection at all?" The man asked, staring her down as if blaming her for some heinous crime. Memory zapped her attention to a darker place, one too desolate for her to hold back.

"I escaped. I'm free. The—the camp. . . I burned it, but now I'm here. They killed. . . They killed so many of us, so I killed them back," Valora breathed, then realized she was speaking nonsense when they gawked at her in confusion. She just couldn't find a way to make the words come out.

Just then, wisdom filled her thoughts, giving her the words to explain her situation. "I was captured by Venatori. They came to the Alienage in Denerim and took almost all of us from our beds at night. We were caged for a while. They killed a lot of us, but I escaped," she explained, remembering every horrid detail until a certain familiar bright light covered them up, keeping her calm and composed. Wisdom.

The man and woman exchanged glances again before the woman grabbed her hand to help her up out of the infirmary bed. The nurse handed her a pitcher of water, and Valora gulped it down greedily. She seemed to have regained her strength, but there was a troubled look in her eyes as she placed the pitcher on a rickety table beside the bed. This healer seemed to understand the elf's predicament; there was nowhere else for her to go.

"You must go see the Inquisitor. She should know what to do with you from here. She'll be in the war room, just ask around; I'm sure our people will be more than happy to help," the woman said, smiling kindly at the elf. Suddenly Valora felt bare, exposed at the thought of leaving the room. There was a slight breeze tickling the tips of her ears, reminding her of her offensive nature. A mangled sound escaped her lips as she covered her ears and backed away from the two humans in front of her. She had been taught that humans only sought to belittle and enslave people of her race. And here she was, standing in front of two of the monsters.

She felt a need for the cloak she took from the Venatori woman, a need to hide herself under its hood if she were to be seen by anyone else. No one else could know if she was an elf; no one could subject her to fate at the hands of the quick children. Not again.

"Where is my cloak? I—I can't be seen like this," Valora began to panic, feeling as if the two humans in front of her might shackle and torture her at any moment. The woman's face contorted with worry as she grabbed something from the floor and slowly extended a bundle of dark purple cloth in Valora's direction. The elf inched forward, arm carefully outstretching until her fingertips grazed the leathery cloth. She kept an eye on the woman, scrutinizing each and every move she made as she stepped forward to snatch the cloak out of her hands. She quickly retreated back to the wall and brought the leathery cowl up to cover her ears, fastening the clasp around her neck. She felt safer in this attire, but she did not let her eyes leave the incredulous-looking shemlen for a second as she exited the infirmary.

As she backed out of the building, she spun around to see a fierce woman swinging a sword against a training dummy, slicing the head clean off of its shoulders. Valora cringed. Geez! Not bothering her. Her pace quickened. She felt as if gravity were pulling her to her destination, around the corner of a building and up the stairs of a castle. As she reached the top, she gazed in, intimidated by all of the people within—people people.

These were not elves. This was foreign. She had read numerous books about humans and dwarves, but had never seen either of the races many times. Now there were groups of them gathered in the castle's hall, and she started to turn and bolt away. No, no you'll be fine. They don't know what you are.

Being closed up in the alienage didn't give her much of a chance to see anyone else except for her own kind, and her father was never fond of "shem," as he called them. He was the one who filled her head with notions that humans were atrocities waiting to gobble up anyone who wasn't like them, but these people didn't seem threatening in the least. These humans were dressed in fancy clothes, conversing and laughing with each other; even with the dwarves. Nevertheless, Valora's stomach clenched as she proceeded up the remaining steps to the long hall.

She stepped into the castle, nearly everyone inside turning to gaze at her. She tried not to look at them, but she could feel their beady eyes on her as she made her way through the crowd. Mind your own business, she thought angrily. I am not your entertainment. They immediately averted their gaze and returned to their conversations, earning a sigh of relief from Valora. Maybe she wasn't as out of place as she thought.

Her intuition pulled her towards the second door on the left. She knew this was the right one, but did not know why. She opened it up, then immediately opened a second one. Why are there two doors here? She shook her head before walking through the second door, striding up past a room with a desk in the corner. Eventually she made it to a large door, one she knew led to the war room. Just as she was about to open it, the door flew aside and an elf mere inches taller than her came striding out, colliding with her. They both cried out in surprise and backed away.

Another elf? Valora observed the inky black tattoos decorating the elf's forehead and trailing under her eyes. Her black hair was loose, just brushing her shoulders, but it didn't stop her pointed ears from peeking through the dark strands. The woman's skin was tanned from the days she'd spent out in the open under the sun, traveling with her clan. A Dalish.

"I'm so sorry, you must be the Inquisitor?" Valora apologized quickly, feeling much relief at the sight of another elf. She may have asked the identity of the woman, but she already knew. Something deep within her told her this was who she was looking for.

"I am. Inquisitor Lavellan. And you are?" Lavellan asked in return, looking the hooded elf girl up and down, silently questioning her choice of clothing. The young girl wore a purple cloak, dark stains splotching the hood and shoulders. It looked as if it had been cleaned, but not well enough. The Inquisitor could see a glint in the girl's eyes, one that were familiar to the people of her clan. It didn't take long for her to catch on that the girl was an elf; her high cheekbones and narrow nose would have given her away if her eyes hadn't first.

"My name is Valora, I was sent to speak to you by the woman in the infirmary. Your scouts found me in the wilds, but now I have nowhere else to go. She said you would know what I should do," the cloaked elf spoke quickly, eager to speak to one of her own.

Inquisitor Lavellan stared at the young girl, pausing in confusion at her excitement. She sighed. Why did everyone always lay problems down at her feet to solve? The only thing that gave her rank around here was her glowing hand. Suddenly she was a leader because she could close rifts, but knew nothing else of real responsibilities outside of her clan. Regardless, she wanted to help this lost girl find a place.

"Why don't you accompany us in the tavern later for a meal? We could get introductions underway and settle that . . . dragon in your stomach," the Inquisitor joked. It was true, Valora's stomach was making all sorts of grumbling noises. She had chosen to ignore it, as well as every other pain that might have dwelled within her. The hunger was there, however, and the young elf accepted the Inquisitor's offer.

The Inquisitor decided Valora should have a decent tour of the castle, as well as find her quarters, so Lavellan directed her to the one who knew Skyhold better than anyone else.

Solas was in his study, seated in front of his desk. He was eyeing a particularly odd object the Inquisitor had found on one of her journeys throughout Orlais. The item emitted a strange tune, a haunting melody as it shone ominously.

Just as Solas was leaning in to inspect the object further, his door opened, breaking his focus. He raised his head to see a young woman in a stained purple cloak, hood raised to cover all but the bottom half of her face and gingery hair snaking down the front of her robes. He stood from his seat, feeling a strange familiarity from this person, but who was she?

"May I help you?" he asked cautiously. The girl turned her face up toward him. She looked nervous, as if she did not want to enter. He could tell she was uncomfortable, and her gaze held something. Fear?

"What – what is that song? Why is it so loud?" she practically yelled across the room at him, bringing up her hands to cover her hooded ears. She looked around the room frantically, trying to find the source of the music, until her eyes finally stopped on the object Solas had been studying just seconds ago.

He found where her eyes were locked and picked the item up from its place. He knew these things – shards – carried a melody, but he did not understand why she was hearing it so loudly. Unless . . .

She uncovered her ears as he touched the shard. The music stopped. Her eyes shifted from him to the shard and back several times. "How did you do that? What is that thing?" the girl inquired, stepping closer to him while her eyes never left the shard.

"This seems to be a key of sorts," he murmured vaguely, staring intently at her. His answer was almost mindless. There was something stirring in his thoughts that he could not place as she stepped up to him. Something about her seemed off, different. He sensed a light tremor in the air when she moved, as if her being was stirring the world around them. He sensed magic, but there was something else wavering the space around her. Strange.

He kept the shard in his hand, afraid the music may continue if he lost his hold on it. Solas recollected himself and smiled at the girl. "It is a work in progress . . . I apologize, we have not been properly introduced, I am Solas," he said formally.

Solas. . . Why did that name—that word—ring familiarity in her ears? Valora tried her best to smile at the man before her, another of her kind, but Wisdom was stirring, making her restless. It was if it was trying to tell her something, but she couldn't comprehend. She felt a warmth in his presence nonetheless, and so she spoke to the elf before her: "Valora Levisan. Nice to meet you, Solas."

"What has brought you to my study this evening?"

"The Inquisitor told me that you could give me a tour of the place . . . If that's okay, I mean, I don't want to be a bother or anything. If you're busy I can –"

Solas calmly lifted a hand to silence her, an amused smile crossing his lips at her nervous rambling. "It is no trouble. Follow me; I will show you every place Skyhold has to offer." He walked around her to the door she had come through earlier. Valora knew she should be cautious around new people, but she couldn't help feeling strangely comfortable with the man.

As they toured the castle, they spoke of various topics. She discovered he was even more scholarly than she. They spoke excitedly about their studies on magic and the Fade. Although Valora did not have any experience with controlled magic, she understood quite a bit from all the texts she had looked over. Her curiosity about life outside of the alienage had brought her to spend most of her time with her nose buried in books. It offered a release from the rat-infested part of Denerim that she, sadly, called home. It was no surprise to learn that Solas knew a great deal more about the world than she. Solas' knowledge of the Fade impressed Valora to no bound; she wanted to dream like he did, go to otherworldly places. She was incredibly jealous. As they learned more about each other, she harbored a deep respect for him and the wisdom he possessed. In a way, they were very much alike.