Standard Disclaimer: Bioware owns all Dragon Age characters and in game content. I own the bits that are left.

Chapter 13 – It Matters

9:10 Dragon Age, Grand Cathedral, Val Royeaux, Orlais – 8 months after Wynne leaves Ferelden

In the days following Marcel's murder, Wynne was lost in a wretched haze. She knew that she was being escorted somewhere but she could not bring herself to care about the destination. She ate when given food, drank when given water but other than that she had no recollection of where she was, who she was with or what she was doing.

She was changed back into enchanter robes, the dress Marcel had given her had been stained with his blood but she would not allow anyone to take it from her. When someone attempted to remove the signet ring on ring finger, she turned feral until she lost consciousness, clenching her fists, from simultaneous smites.

In the nights, she slept with one of Marcel's old shirts but could not find rest, often waking up screaming. The Fade was filled with pride demons that offered her power to bring death and destruction to those involved in Marcel's death. Those she still had the fortitude to resist. It was desire demons offering her the power to bring Marcel back that really tempted her. She knew that they were lying. No power could bring back the dead but more than once she felt the compulsion to accept their proposal if only for an extra year, month, day or even just one more hour with him. She wanted the chance to tell him how much she loved him. How thankful she was that he was there to help her put her heart back together. She had thought they would have plenty of time to learn about each other and plan their lives together but it was not to be.

Each time, she managed to refuse because she remembered that she was still carrying the fruit of their love. She would not do anything to endanger their child. So she ate even though she tasted nothing and drank even though she felt no thirst.

In one moment of clarity, she realised she was somehow back at White Spire. Sophie was washing her hair and she was in a tub. "We have to get you ready for your audience with the Marquis. He petitioned most fiercely with Her Holiness to meet you."

"Who?" It took Wynne a moment to realise that the hoarse voice asking the question was hers. "Who wishes to meet me?"

"The Marquis of Ghyslain. Ser Marcel's eldest brother." Sophie repeated for what seemed to be the twentieth time. It has been more than a month since Wynne was dragged back to White Spire by templars from a small village just three days away from the noble's seat of power but she still in the same catatonic state. This, however, was the first time she had spoken. "He wanted to meet his brother's murderess." Sophie continued hoping to jolt Wynne out of her trance.

"Murderer. It was a male templar." Wynne muttered limply.

"The Chantry is claiming that you killed Marcel, Wynne." Sophie declared derisively. There was no further response from Wynne. She had once again vanished into her inner world. "Oh, Ser Marcel. I just hope that your brother is not blind. He is the only one who can save her now."

There was someone speaking to her while gesturing to someone dressed all in black. Through her haze, she saw that he had brown hair, deep chocolate coloured eyes and a face that was so familiar.

"Marcel!" Wynne broke out of her reverie rushed to enfold her beloved in a tight embrace. "You're alive? How?" The man in her arms was struggling to free himself from her arms. She looked more closely at him and realised that while his face was similar to Marcel's, it was older by at least a decade and his hair was a much darker shade of brown.

Wynne backed away, shaking her head, "No, you're not Marcel… Marcel is dead…" Tears fell from her eyes and she collapsed, shaking from her sobs.

Renart de Lucien, Marquis of Ghyslain, gazed unsympathetically at the woman weeping so inconsolably in front of him. He took in her skeletal form, distended belly and shaking hands, suddenly focusing on her fingers. When he noticed the signet ring on her ring finger, he snarled angrily, stooped and grasped the ring, intending to remove it from her.

Wynne immediately turned savage, kicking out at him. "You will not take this. You have already taken his life. You cannot take the representation of his love for me." Tears running freely down her cheeks, Wynne blindly retreated to a corner. "You cannot have this."

Renart raised his eyes disbelievingly at the Divine sitting on the Sunburst Throne, "Your Perfection, are you certain that this is my brother's murderess? She seems to be overly distraught about my brother's death."

"That is the report I received, Lord Renart. Perhaps she had been controlled by a demon and is only now realising the magnitude of her actions." Her Holiness, Beatrix III, replied dismissively. "Even if she is apologetic now, she will still need to be executed for her crime. This is still within the purview of the Chantry." She retorted pointedly.

These words finally penetrated the stupor Wynne had been in. She shot to a standing position. "No! I did not kill Marcel. He was killed by those homicidal templars! They cut him down like he was some common criminal then smote me so I could not even heal him. I could have saved him if I still had my mana. They would not even give me a single lyrium potion though I beseeched them so that I could save him. But I couldn't heal him. I couldn't even accept any demons' help because he would have wanted me to protect our child. I couldn't save him. All my powers and I couldn't save the man I love, the father of my child…" A heart-breaking keen rose from Wynne before she, again, crumpled to the floor.

Sophie rushed to her side and gathered her in her arms. Glaring accusingly at the Divine, she scathingly remarked. "Yes, a demon would just leave after taking a mage over. How kind of it. Why do we need templars and Circles then? We just need to ask them politely to leave after all."

Turning to stare at Renart, she continued tentatively. "I know it is not my place to interfere but Wynne is in no condition to defend herself and if the Chantry" this was said in a mocking tone "had their way, Wynne would be the sacrificial lamb for their crime."

"Silence, mage! You have no permission to speak here." Her Holiness declared imperiously.

"No, let her speak. I wish to hear the truth." Renart stated in a firm tone that brooked no argument. "I will know the truth behind my brother's murder."

"I wasn't there but there is no doubt in my mind that it would be exactly as Wynne described." Her Holiness humphed in exasperation. Sophie resolutely ignored her and spoke directly to Renart. "They were so much in love. During the journey from the Circle Tower in Ferelden to White Spire, they found each other and had been inseparable. There are four other mages who will be able to testify to this. There were also seven other templars too but I'm not sure if they would be willing to testify." Sophie gently patted Wynne's hair. "You should have seen them. They were so sweet it is almost cloying. The joy in Ser Marcel's face when he was with her and vice versa. There is no way that I will believe Wynne killed him. She has been like this since she was unceremoniously dumped on us at White Spire. Only when you pursued the cause of Ser Marcel's death were we suddenly informed that she murdered him and that she would pay for her crime after the birth of her child. It's too convenient. They just don't want to admit that they murdered one of their own."

Renart thoughts were in a whirl. He did not know who to believe. The Chantry or this mage. Would Marcel fall in love with a mage?

"When I told him he was going to be a father, he was so happy… I told him that the Chantry may execute him if they found out and offered to remove it. He was so angry when he thought I didn't want our child. When he realised that I was only concerned about him, he offered to elope with me. He said you would take care of us. You would protect us." Wynne wondered dazedly. "He never told me that you looked so much alike. So alike… I guess the de Lucien family breeds true. Would our child also look like him?"

"That sounds like my brother alright. Always causing trouble and expecting me to aid him." Renart sighed and turned an accusing glower at Her Holiness. "Your Perfection, I demand a proper investigation to be conducted. I know my brother. If this lady meant nothing to him, she would not be wearing our mother's signet ring. She gave that to him on her deathbed to give to his future bride."

Wynne stared at the simple gold ring with the de Lucien heraldry emblazoned on it and fresh tears sprang unbidden to her eyes. "Oh Marcel… You didn't even get to tell me that." Her sobs filled the audience chamber of the Grand Cathedral where they had been gathered for Wynne's interrogation.

What a façade this is! Frustrated, Renart turned to the elderly mage who was doing her best to calm the grief-stricken lady in her arms. "Can anyone testify that the child in her womb is Marcel's?"

Sophie snorted indelicately. "Maker, the both of them kept us awake night after night in camp after they finally gave in to their mutual attraction at Gherlen's Pass. They couldn't keep their hands off each other, there was no other for them. The child is definitely Ser Marcel's."

"Your Perfection, in this case, I want this mage cleared of suspicions for the murder of my brother. I do not wish a woman that my brother loved and cherished harmed in any way." Renart stated firmly. "I wish custody of her and their child."

"Impossible! She is a mage and will stay within the Circle of Magi." Her Holiness snapped angrily. "Her child will be raised by commoners and monitored by the Chantry. If the child ever displays signs of being a mage too, he will be brought into the Circle of Magi for education. I can only spare her life. That is the only blessing I can give."

Sophie sniffed impolitely. "Blessing indeed… It's a bloody disgrace what was done to these two lovebirds."

Renart's lips thinned, there was very little he could do given that their union was not legitimate. "Then she will stay with me and enjoy my hospitality until she recovers from the birth of my brother's child."

Her Holiness hesitated. Noticing Renart's impatient scowl and finally really seeing how devastated Wynne was, she heaved a sigh. "Very well. You may take her until she has recovered from her childbirth."

Shaking her head in apathy, she announced. "Clerks, note this. On this day, I, Beatrix III, decree that mages will not be allowed to marry. They will be discouraged from forming relationships either among themselves or with other citizens of Thedas. Any mage discovered to have flouted this rule will be made Tranquil or executed. The other party, if a templar, will also be executed or shall be fined five hundred gold sovereigns. If they are unable to pay the fine, they will be executed. If a baby is born of this unholy union, it will be immediately taken into Chantry custody. There, that should prevent the future occurrence of such tragedies."

Rhys, a name Marcel had previously picked out if the baby was a boy, wanting his son to have enthusiasm for life, was born two months later at Marquis Ghyslain's estate in the centre of Val Royeaux. He had dark brown hair like his uncle but it was still too early to tell if his eyes would be Marcel's warm chocolate brown. Wynne only barely managed to whisper quickly to her son "I will find you. No matter how long it takes, I will find you. Know that your father and I love you very much." before he was forcefully taken away by templars.

Sophie and, surprisingly, Renart were her rocks throughout her ordeal. Sophie would slowly draw her out from her stupor with her quick wit while Renart shared with her about Marcel's childhood exploits. Wynne's breasts ached with the pressure of milk that her son would never taste while her heart stung each time some small thing reminded her of Marcel. Gradually, she emerged from her lethargy and started acting like a normal person again even though inside she was permanently broken. There came a day when Sophie did not come to visit her at the estate at the appointed time. After waiting till sun down, Wynne finally stirred herself to go to White Spire and learned that the elderly mage had taken ill. For the first time in three years after Marcel's death, Wynne used her magic to heal again.

-0-

9:17 Dragon Age, Circle Tower, Lake Calenhad, Ferelden – 7 years after Neria (now 7) was found

"Two years…" Ines was fury personified. "You have been back two years and you did not think to tell me this. How could you Wynne?"

The bleakness in Ines' eyes caused Wynne to gasp in consternation. "I'm still hurting, Ines. This is not an easy story to share."

"When I told you about my agreement with Greagoir you didn't think to point out to me that the Divine decreed that we were no longer allowed to have relationships?" Ines smiled bitterly. "You always were a selfish bitch."

"You didn't know? I didn't know that you didn't know. All the Circles of Magi were notified through Sending Stones and missives. How could you not know?" Wynne exclaimed, temper rising at the unfair accusation.

"You forget that our Sending Stone was destroyed during the coup and it took them two years to install the replacement." Ines closed her eyes in anguish. "Furthermore, Greagoir is Knight-Commander. If he received any missive with information he did not wish to share, not even a syllable would escape from his office."

"Oh, Ines… I am so sorry. I truly am. I thought you knew but was brave enough to go on anyway." Wynne finished lamely.

"It would not be bravery but foolhardiness and total lack of self-preservation to challenge the Chantry on this when the Divine has already issued such a decree." Ines quickly decided. "I will just have to get transferred to where I never need to see him again."

"You are not going to confront him?" Wynne asked in confusion.

"To what end? He deliberately chose to deceive me." Ines remarked derisively. "I have been a fool for the past six years. I will not give him the chance to make a further fool of me."

"It couldn't hurt to ask, Ines. If it's just a misunderstanding?" Wynne suggested. "After hearing my experience, don't you think you should cherish any love you can get?"

"After hearing your experience, I can only wonder that a Senior Enchanter like you doesn't know to drink a contraceptive potion before indulging in a sexual relationship. Wynne, you are a Spirit Healer. You could have taken care of the issue and this whole debacle would not have occurred. You have damned all the mages all over Thedas with your indulgence." Ines' words of condemnation stiffened Wynne's spine.

"If you had created a child with Greagoir would you have 'taken care of the issue'?" Wynne asked sarcastically.

Ines shook her head slowly. "Point taken. But you should have taken contraceptive measures at the minimum. It was totally irresponsible of you not to. It's not as if you don't know the recipe."

"I was still heartbroken over Irving. I did not expect to fall in love with Marcel. Do you think I am some kind of slut? I don't carry contraceptive potions around just in case." Wynne screeched in frustration.

"If you had kept your legs crossed or simply listened to him and left for Ghyslain, perhaps Ser Marcel would still be alive today." Ines cruelly retorted.

Wynne gasped with outrage and pain. "GET OUT!"

"Gladly." Ines left the room without a backward glance.

Wynne collapsed on her bed in tears, her friend's accusations causing uproar in her mind.

A month after that chasm appeared between the two friends, Ines summoned Neria to her room and informed her that she had applied to be transferred to Antiva and should be receiving the necessary authorisation papers soon. She hugged Neria and reminded her to keep an eye on Senior Enchanter Sweeney.

Although both he and Ines were in charge of Herbalism in the Circle Tower, nowadays more were turning to Ines and Neria for any tonics. It was a well-known fact within the Circle Tower that Senior Enchanter Sweeney is slowly losing his eye sight due to his drinking habit. Habit… More like problem. Ines drily thought.

She also gave Neria a large money sack filled with gold sovereigns. Neria's eyes had grown wide when she nearly fell from the weight of it. Most people were wary of letting children handle money but Ines had full confidence in Neria and her bargaining skills. The child could literally charm birds from the trees.

"There are ten thousand gold sovereigns in there. Just in case you need to purchase any supplies that Irving or Greagoir won't approve." After Neria had graduated from all the Expert classes of all the schools of magic last year, she had joined Ines for intense lessons in Herbalism within her laboratory. Officially, they were creating curatives, restoratives and antidotes.

In actuality, Ines had been very firm about Neria knowing how each poison, venom and bomb worked to affect the body and created not only antidotes that removed the poisons and venom but placebos that only cured the symptoms and halt the destruction temporarily.

Neria had not understood the uses of these placebos until Ines had explained that, sometimes, you did not want to alert a person to the fact that they have been poisoned and suppressing the symptoms often meant that they would be too late in seeking the much needed help. The fanatical light in her eyes when she had clarified this appealed to the darkness in Neria and she became as enamoured with Poison Making as Ines.

Between them, they had been successful in creating many such variations to the standard poisons found in Thedas. It greatly helped when Neria realised that she was immune to poisons, a fact that never ceased to amaze Ines. No matter the potency of the poison or venom consumed, Neria would just suffer some slight symptoms but never the full effects and, certainly, never death. It made experimenting on live subjects much easier as Ines had not wanted to use live animals and had been reining in her enthusiasm for her pet subject. Ines, herself, was immune to certain poisons and venoms due to her continual exposure to them but she could only safely experiment on herself with those that she knew she was already immune to.

Of course, Irving and Greagoir would not approve if they knew. However, Ines was able to strike a deal with the quartermaster at the Circle Tower. He had been selling her supplies on the side at a steep rate that he would not have been able to charge anywhere else. Once, Neria had gone with Ines to get the supplies, it was then that she managed to convince the man to provide a discount due to their services to the public. Her ability to charm and persuade was truly a marvel to behold.

"If you need more, just write me. I'll send some via the next mage who makes a crossing." Ines had hoarded a veritable fortune from selling her potions. There were also the royalties from her herbalism book – Restorative Draughts: Creation and Distillation. "You know what. Here, take another sack." She rummaged in an open trunk before tossing another sack to Neria. "I won't be sure if there would be anyone travelling here soon. Just don't spend it all in one place, dear." Ines raised Neria's chin to stare into her eyes fixatedly. "Remember: waste not…" Neria finished automatically. "Want not." Ines had instilled this mantra in her from young.

Ines said with a feverish light in her eyes. "Just think Neria. I'll be going to Antiva. All those poisons that their Crows engineer are just waiting for me to concoct and detoxify. Those forests… I didn't get to fully explore them the last time we were there. I can't wait to start."

"I would like to go too… Ines, please don't leave me here. Bring me with you." The desperation in Neria's voice brought out its childlike quality. "I'll be good and help you like I always do."

"Neria… I can't… You have not passed your Harrowing and the Chantry is unlikely to assign two templars for a mage and her apprentice to go traipsing around the jungles of Antiva." Ines was torn. Her pride told her she needed to get away before Greagoir could make a greater fool out of her. Her heart wanted to stay with the child she had come to think of her own. Her own and Greagoir's. The irony of it firmed her resolve.

"No, Neria. I can't bring you. I'm sorry." She held out a leather bound book. "I wrote out all my potion recipes inside this book. It's divided in half. The pages starting from the cover with the sun motif detail curatives, restoratives and antidotes. The pages starting from the moon motif cover contain poisons, venoms and bombs. Promise me you will let no one else read this. There are experimental potions in there and you know how I make my notes to tell which those are. In the wrong hands, this would be destructive."

Neria tilted her head to the side to regard the woman who had been her mentor and surrogate mother since she had been rescued from the jungles of Antiva. From her tone, she realised that something was compelling her to leave. Ines only got that mulish look when she was about break down but was not about to let anyone see it. When she was younger and Ines thought her to be unaware, Neria got to see it quite often. However, after she realised that Neria was much more aware than any other child, she never broke down in front of her again. Neria knew there is only one person who could affect her so. Greagoir.

"Did you know that Senior Enchanter Ines is petitioning to get transferred to Antiva?" Neria archly remarked to Jowan in front of Greagoir's office. They were in the front entrance of the Circle Tower and Jowan had no idea why Neria had decided this was a good place to chat.

"Really? Why would she do that?" Jowan frowned. "Senior Enchanter Sweeney said it was a land filled with assassins and whores."

"What? When did he say that?" Neria wondered. "I must have missed that class."

"Oh, he didn't say it in a class. He was drunk with the Feast Day mead that day." Jowan grinned. "Nearly burnt down the decorations, don't you remember?"

"Oh, you meant during last year's Feast Day celebrations?" Neria said after some pondering. "Anyway, she told me she should be receiving a confirmation soon." The last sentence was spoken slightly louder than the rest.

"Neria… A word in my office?" Greagoir called loud enough to be heard through the closed door.

Jowan gulped nervously and whispered apprehensively. "What did you do this time?"

Neria smiled triumphantly. "Nothing that would get me in trouble, I hope."

She knocked on the door and entered upon command. Greagoir was sitting behind his desk with an expectant look on his face. "I overheard you mention that Senior Enchanter Ines was leaving?" he eventually questioned when Neria remained silent.

Neria kept her fingers crossed and replied innocently. "Oh, you didn't know?"

"Maker's breath, child. If I knew, I would not be asking you, would I?" Greagoir retorted with frustration.

"Oh… I suppose not." Neria blinked artlessly and continued. "She raised a request to get transferred to Antiva to further her herbalism research. She mentioned that she should be getting the agreement from First Enchanter Alfonso soon."

Greagoir banged his fist on his table so abruptly that Neria jumped. "Sorry to startle you, child. That was not directed at you. You are dismissed."

Neria turned around before grinning wickedly. She prayed that Greagoir will be able to convince Ines to stay.

Greagoir took some time to calm himself before rushing off to find Ines. He did not wish to put his foot in his mouth like he always seemed to do with her.

He found her in the laboratory, head close together with Sweeney muttering over some papers. When he saw Sweeney's hand on her arm and in such proximity to her breast, a savage urge to rip out the Senior Enchanter's head defeated his efforts to keep cool.

He loudly cleared his throat. Both mages jumped, bumping heads and giggling like children. Greagoir felt the insane desire to decapitate the other Senior Enchanter grow. "Senior Enchanter Sweeney, I wish to have a word with Senior Enchanter Ines." He declared brusquely and when Sweeney just sat back expectantly, continued curtly. "In private."

Sweeney shrugged and turned to Ines who was watching Greagoir with a narrowed eye glare. "Get one of the apprentices to call me back when you are done here. This is very interesting. You say Neria helped you with that? She really has a talent for this, doesn't she…" Greagoir snarled before Sweeney could persist in rambling. He hopped off the bench, glancing between Ines and Greagoir before shrugging and leaving. Greagoir followed to close and latch the door after his departure.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, Knight-Commander Greagoir?" Ines defensively enquired.

"I heard that you were transferring to Antiva?" Geagoir asked without preamble, gazing into her eyes intently. When Ines flinched in surprise, he read her body language and muttered indignantly. "When were you going to tell me? Or you were planning to leave without a fare you well or by your leave?"

Ines looked directly back at him. "When were you going to tell about the Divine's decree that mages are no longer allowed to get married or even have relationships?" When Greagoir flushed instead of replying, she gritted her teeth and smiled a feral grin. "Exactly… You also failed to mention that you have an addiction problem. I guess that about evens out the score on not telling each other things."

Greagoir was utterly panicked. When he had first received the missive from the Divine, he had been completed devastated by its contents. He wanted to bring it to Ines' attention immediately, to see if there was any way to manipulate the situation around so that they could still be together. However, that was also when he remembered. Although he had poured his heart out, declaring his love for her, she had not acknowledged or replied in any terms that were equivalent.

He had been afraid, sure that he loved her more than she loved him and this would be the end of them. In desperation, he had thrown the notification into the fireplace. As he watched it burn, he vowed to make her love him enough to stay even if they could not be together officially. Each day he had worked towards that goal, helping her to take care of Neria, lifting heavy packages for her, bringing her late night snacks when she worked late in the laboratory. For all the little things that she allowed him to do, he stole kisses from her as a reward. Eventually, she did not even give him that allowance and stopped all intimacy between them. Now that the secret has been uncovered, he did not know if all his efforts these years were enough to keep her with him.

Ines watched the emotions play out on Greagoir's face and heaved a sigh. He's going to make me stay. Standing and brushing out the imaginary creases in her robes, she started to leave but he caught her wrist and both were reminded of that day seven years ago in this same room.

"Ines, won't please you stay, even if we can't ever be officially together?" Greagoir asked hopefully holding onto her hand.

"What made you think not telling me was a good idea?" Ines quietly asked even though she had not wanted to. However, part of her required that answer from him.

"I was scared… You never once told me you loved me. I don't know if we," Greagoir gestured between Ines and himself "matter to you. We don't talk or touch anymore and sometimes, I don't even feel we are still in love. So I just… I wanted you to stay so that I could make you love me as I love you." His misery was so evident that Ines' heart ached for him.

"Oh Greagoir," Ines caressed his cheek with her other hand. "Why couldn't you trust me? Of course it matters to me. How can I make you see that I do love you?" Despite herself, a tear rolled down her face. "This is impossible and a torture to us both. It would be better if I just left."

"Tell me. Tell me not as a question to me. Tell me directly that you love me." The anguish in Greagoir's voice caused Ines' to close her eyes but the tears continued to fall in spite of this.

"I love you, Greagoir. You are my first and will be my only man. There will be no other after you." Ines tenderly declared before placing a light kiss on his lips.

Greagoir enveloped her tightly in an embrace. "How can you say you have to go if you really love me?"

Ines gently extricated herself from his arms. "You know I have to. If I stay, we will be found out. Even if you are prepared to die for our love, I noticed that you have trained no one up to replace you. Your duty is here, Greagoir. Mine is to stay away from you so that you can carry it out." Her tears were falling in earnest now.

"No, no, no! There has to be some way." Greagoir exclaimed drawing her back to him.

"The ironic thing is if you told me earlier, I could have…" Ines shook her head. "No, there is no use dwelling on this. Let me go, Greagoir. Please don't make this harder than it is." She wanted so much to just weep in his arms but that would just be a cruel memory when she was gone.

"What did I do? Could you have done something if I told you earlier?" Greagoir shuddered with unexpressed grief.

"I don't know that. It may have been a possibility. I am, after all, an expert in herbalism. Perhaps, given time, I could have concocted something to rid you of the lyrium addiction, you could have groomed a candidate and we could have left." A cynical smile curved her lips. "Perhaps and could haves, that's all we'll ever be. If only you had not doubted me and deprived us of this chance."

"You could start on this now." Greagoir suggested optimistically.

"No, Greagoir. I have already received verbal confirmation from Alfonso that I will be transferred to Antiva. I am only waiting for the authorisation letters to arrive before I go. There is no valid reason for me to stay." Ines backed away slowly, her eyes bright with tears. "My passage is already booked and as soon as the papers arrive, I will send word to them that I am ready to leave."

"Isn't our love enough of a reason for you to stay?" Greagoir's hands shook with the effort it took him to restrain himself from reaching out to pull her back into his arms.

"How can we love like this? Don't taint it with stolen moments of lust or rushed moments of intimacy. What I wanted with you was so simple… A simple farm house where we could stay, live off the land, sit around the fire to read on cold evenings and a warm bed at night in each other's arms. I don't want a sordid affair." She tearfully grasped both of Greagoir's large hands in her slim. "Perhaps in another life, Greagoir. Perhaps in another life, we will be able to love without hurting each other and without others hunting us." She leaned forward and tiptoed to kiss him on the lips for the last time. "This is really goodbye."

She started to release his hands to leave but Greagoir pulled her into his arms again and kissed her as if his life depended on it. On some level, he knew that the part of his heart that loved Ines was dying from misery. By the time Ines came back to her senses, Greagoir had set her gently on the bench and silently left the laboratory.

Neria was greatly distracted by the aura of sadness emanating from Greagoir. She knew this likely meant that he had been unsuccessful in convincing Ines to stay. She shook her head to clear her depressing thoughts and planted a smile on her face to greet the new arrivals.

There were three of them. Neria was excited to see there was a girl almost her age. She had hair of a bright red hue that Neria had never seen before. Her eyes were grey and darting around, observing her surroundings. The other two were much older boys. The elder of them was an elf, with carrot orange hair and sapphire blue eyes; he, too, was looking around in curiosity. The younger boy was a human with light brown hair and hazel brown eyes. The odd thing was that he was clutching an embroidered pillow to himself and looking down on the floor.

"Hi everyone! My name is Neria. I've got good news." Neria giggled. "After you settle down, you'll be just in time for dinner." Sticking out her hand to the girl first, she continued enthusiastically. "I'm seven this year. How old are you?"

"I'm eight." Veness replied grinning at the smaller sized elven girl. "I'm Veness."

"I'm Aneirin and I'm fourteen. Are there many elves here?" Aneirin held out his hand to be shaken. "Where is everyone?"

Shaking his hand enthusiastically, Neria replied. "There are quite a few elves from the various alienages here. They are all still in afternoon classes." She turned to the last new arrival. He had not looked up or said anything.

Neria leaned closer and gazed up at the boy then theatrically down on the floor as if to check whether there was something fascinating to stare at on it. The boy's mouth twitched.

Smiling delightedly that she managed to get a reaction from him, she took one of his hands in both of hers. "Hi, I'm Neria. Who are you?"

The boy looked up and snatched his hand back. Neria pouted and cast her best puppy eyes at him.

"Don't look at me like that!" Anders exclaimed in exasperation.

"Like what? Like I'm hurt that you don't want to be friends?" Neria blinked as if to stop tears from falling. "Well, I can't cause I am hurt that you don't want to be friends."

"Why does it matter whether we are friends a not?" Anders asked irritated by Neria's antics.

"Of course it matters. It helps to see a friendly face around when you are surrounded by strangers, doesn't it." Neria persisted to tug on his hand and Anders gave in to let her hold on to it. She beamed up at him with a brilliant smile and he suddenly felt strangely comforted and a belief started to form that everything was going to work out fine.

"Well, are you going to tell me your name or do I have to go around calling you 'the boy with the light brown hair and pretty hazel eyes'?" Neria enquired teasingly. "That is quite a mouthful you know. I may make you bring me a glass of water to drink each time after I call you if you don't tell me your name now."

Despite himself, Anders smiled. "I am known as Anders and I'm twelve."

Neria looked at him intrigued. "Known as? So that's not your real name? Why is your real name a secret?"

Irving laughed. "Neria… Enough. At the rate you are asking questions, they will never make it to dinner. You know which beds there are to spare in the dormitories, get them to pick out the ones they would like to have then ask Owain for their supplies. Here is the authorisation form. I need to speak with Greagoir for a while."

Neria nodded and laughed as the three of them had varying looks of amazement at Irving's trust in the little elven girl. "I've been here all my life so even though I am younger than all of you, I may still make Senior Enchanter faster than all of you. Stick with me and I will orientate you on how the Circle Tower operates." With a mischievous sideway glimpse at Irving and Greagoir, she motioned the new apprentices to walk further away from them and whispered. "Even the things we are not really supposed to do." Glancing back with a cheeky wink, she escorted the three of them into the Circle Tower.

Author's Notes

This chapter was inspired by the song It Matters to Me by Faith Hill.

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