***
Age 7
***

Faydren stuck close to the Templar as they walked through the austere halls of the Ostwick Circle. The building had been intimidating from the outside, shining and smooth with dark spires jutting toward the sky like elongated fingers. Inside it was simple but suffocating. The air felt thick and tense.

It was impressive that her guide was able to walk at all with her practically attached to his leg. Her right hand gripped the folds of his 'skirt' tightly as they entered a great circular hall with massive elaborate double doors gracing its end. The floor was tiered and held benches beyond her willingness to count. They came to a stop just outside the doors. Her escort turned to her and smiled reassuringly as he gestured to a nearby bench. Faydren loosened her grip a tad but didn't quite let go.

"I'll just be a few moments. I need to let them know you're here."

The door opened, revealing a young man not yet in his teens with shaggy brown hair and deep hazel eyes. He shifted uncomfortably in armor that was clearly too big for him. It seemed to be purely ceremonial.

"Ah, Darius!" The older Templar seemed relieved.

"Ser?" The boy blinked uncertainly.

"This is one of our newest charges. Would you keep her company while I speak to the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter?"

"Um..."

"Good lad," the man clapped Darius on the shoulder and moved past him into the room, shutting the door behind him.

Darius looked down curiously at the child who had been so readily thrust upon him. It was true that Ser Rialto did not fare well with the younger mages at the Circle, but this girl seemed to be well-behaved enough.
On second glance, her appearance could be considered a mite unsettling. Premature white hair wasn't unheard of, but it remained unusual and some might even say unnatural. Hers actually seemed to have a life of its own as small wisps of it swayed back and forth in some unseen breeze. Her eyes were a piercing steely gray, and if he looked closely they seemed tinged with a purple glow.

Darius snapped out of his reverie to realize he'd just been standing there staring. Thankfully she seemed content enough to stare right back. Trying to stand up straight in his armor, he cleared his throat.

"So, what's your name?"

"I'm Faydren. Your name is Darius?"

"That's right," he shifted uncomfortably. This was only his second day here. He wasn't even really supposed to be alone around mages without his training. She was just a little girl, but he'd heard stories...

He blinked in surprise as Faydren suddenly gave him a brilliant smile. The room itself almost appeared to brighten, and he felt his discomfort melt away. Darius couldn't help feeling that he wanted that smile to stay there forever.

"You're new like me, right?"

"I- yes. How did you know?"

"Because you seem worried too," her smile faltered a bit.

"I do, huh? Well perhaps we should do something to take our minds off of it. Do you know any games?" Darius grinned back at her as she brightened once more.

"Oh yes! I have the perfect one," she grabbed his hand and he felt a tiny shock but it quickly faded. Time to learn a new game it seemed.

When Ser Rialto finally emerged, he was accompanied by the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander since their business was done as well. The three older men were struck speechless at the sight of their newest young mage and Templar playing some strange childish game involving a sing-song chant, spinning in circles, and then falling to the ground. This was no small feat for Darius in his armor, but he didn't seem to mind. The two children laughed and frolicked, but their time together was now done.

"Darius," Knight-Commander Argus spoke sternly.

"Knight-Commander," Darius scrambled to his feet and stood at attention.

"Say farewell to the young lady. Your training begins tomorrow."

"Yes, Ser," he turned to Faydren and bowed slightly, laughter now gone. "Goodbye, Faydren."

The mage's face fell and she looked around, confused. The First Enchanter and Ser Rialto gave her pitying looks.

"Did I get him in trouble? I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at him," she appeared ready to cry.

"No, child. He's not in trouble," the First Enchanter soothed, gaining a look from Argus. "Young Templar recruits simply have their training somewhere else. So you won't be seeing him again for a while."

"Oh... That's alright then," Faydren nodded sadly before turning to Darius and throwing her arms around him. Argus and Rialto flinched, hands moving to their hilts.

"Goodbye, Darius. Thanks for being my friend."

"I- uh-" Darius stammered, looking to his superiors. They remained stoic. Looking back to the little girl whose face was pressed against his breastplate, he lowered his arms around her shoulders.

"You're welcome. Make sure to be good while I'm gone."

He felt her nod repeatedly before she released him and stepped back toward Ser Rialto. As he was being led away by Argus, Darius sneaked one last glance back. Faydren was watching him go, small hand waving a silent farewell.

8 years later - Age 15
***

Faydren peeked around the corner of the hallway, a cheeky grin on her face. She flapped her hand at the snickering apprentices hugging the wall behind her as they waited. The new Templars arrived today. Every few months, Templars who had finished their training were brought to the Circle to begin their main duties. Now fifteen, Faydren had started a tradition of welcoming them… sort of. Her version of 'welcome' usually involved a prank of some kind.

It wasn't difficult to find willing volunteers among the other young mages. It broke the monotony and brightened their days with a spot of harmless fun. Even the targets of the pranks often found it entertaining. It also made them less nervous around Templars, which made everyone's life less stressful in the end. Faydren had never been afraid of their armored guardians, but it was clear she was an oddity in that respect. The sound of armor shifting against itself made its way to her ears as two young Templars entered into the hallway.

"Oh, I see some!" she whispered to her followers. They giggled excitedly before falling silent.

One of the Templars was tall and blonde, with wide blue eyes that flicked around nervously. The other was broad-shouldered with unkempt dark brown hair and keen hazel eyes. He seemed much more at ease than his companion and wore his armor easily. Faydren paused, blinking a few times before a huge smile slowly grew on her lips. Without explanation, she vanished into a hazy blue streak that shot down the hall at the Templars. Her companions' jaws dropped – this wasn't the plan. They stayed by the corner, peeking around to see what she was up to.

"You mean it doesn't make you the slightest bit nervous to be surrounded by people that could roast you alive inside your armor?" Rexas was a worry wart. He had been all through training and didn't seem to be changing anytime soon.

"No," Darius sighed. "They're still just people, Rex."

The conversation was interrupted as an ethereal blue haze hurtled toward them down the hallway. Rexas immediately reached for his blade, but Darius recognized that it wasn't a hostile spell. A good thing too, since he didn't have much time to react before something slammed into his chest and nearly bowled him over – or rather, someone.

"Darius!" The voice was filled with pure joy and excitement.

He looked down in bewilderment, realizing there were arms wrapped tightly around him. His gaze was greeted by a shock of white hair, but quickly replaced with sparking grey eyes and an infectious smile as his captor beamed up at him.

"Faydren?"

"You do remember!" Her smile somehow got even brighter.

Darius gave his companion a reproachful glance as he noticed the partially-drawn sword. Rexas had the good grace to look sheepish as he sheathed it. That boy needed to calm his nerves… things could have gone badly. Faydren didn't seem to have plans to let go, so Darius gently untangled himself.

"Of course I do. You were my first charge, remember?"

"I don't think it was quite as official as all that," she laughed.

"Perhaps not," he smiled back. He'd forgotten how easily she put him at ease. It was surprising to him, since now he knew how her power manifested. And how many she'd killed with it.

"Who's your friend?" She looked at the tall blonde man expectantly.

"Oh, this is Ser Rexas. We trained together."

"Milady," Rexas bowed slightly at the waist.

"Oh, don't be so formal," Faydren chided before turning and giving him a hug as well.

Darius had to stifle a chuckle as Rex looked at him in shock, his eyes clearly saying 'Help me'. A mage attack of affection – he never stood a chance. Looking down the hall, Darius noticed curious eyes peeking around the next corner. He smirked and gave them a small wave. There was an audible squeak and the sound of pattering feet as the eyes disappeared. Then it really was just Faydren who didn't mind Templars.

He watched in silent amusement as Faydren peppered Rex with various questions and the big blonde Templar stammered out replies. Still just as innocent and unusual as he remembered… It made him glad to see that the Circle hadn't changed that.

***
4 years later - Age 19
***

Darius watched protectively from his post as Faydren chatted with a group of male mages. Templars weren't supposed to form attachments, but he saw that girl as family. She'd claimed that piece of his heart long ago. It was strange to see her grow into a woman, and the throng around her now made it evident he wasn't the only one to notice just how attractive she'd become.

Faydren kept her white hair short since the ever-present static did a number on anything longer. The instructors never could get that aura of sympathetic magic to dispel for good. Her skin was a dark olive tone, complementing her hair color flawlessly. The eyes though – they drew people in, daring you to look deeper and catch the lightning sparking in the steel.

Faydren's figure was certainly appealing as well. He didn't know how, considering how much he'd seen her eat – especially if there was cake. She could probably have just about anyone in the Circle that she wanted. Darius shook his head and smirked. Too bad for the poor saps, she didn't seem to be interested in romance of any sort. Not that it was allowed, of course, but everyone knew it happened.

He watched as Faydren broke off from her admirers and sauntered over to him. She smiled happily. Ah yes, he hadn't included the smile on his list… It brightened any room she was in and could warm a heart of ice – he'd seen it happen. Even the Knight-Commander smiled back on occasion.

"Hard at work I see," she quipped. She gave him no small amount of grief for the fact that his job mostly consisted of standing and watching.

"Always," he kept a straight face. "You do make things more difficult though."

"Oh? Howso?"

"Now I'll have to stand guard at your room all night to make sure no boys try to sneak in," he cracked a smile after that one, and she laughed appreciatively.

"Well at least you'll be making yourself useful!"

She reached up to ruffle his hair with affection and walked out of the room. He fixed his hair and shook his head, chuckling to himself. It entertained him to no end that she thought he was joking about that.

***
After Kirkwall - Age 20
***

Things had only grown more tense over the years. With good friends among both mages and Templars, it pained Faydren to see them so distrustful of each other. Worse, both sides had been given just cause to be suspicious. Rogue Templars taking decisions into their own hands, desperate mages turning to blood magic and possession – these things were happening in Circles all over Thedas. Ostwick had thankfully avoided such tragedies within its own walls, but all minds were on the knowledge that it could.

And so Faydren's singular goal, wherever she went and whatever she was doing, was to lighten spirits. Pranks, jokes, kind words, comfort, affection – whatever was needed for the moment, she would gladly give. It worked for a time, but after Kirkwall's Circle fell only her closest friends would forgive her association with both sides. Remaining neutral cast her out… and it was lonely. She found herself spending less time with people and instead would sit quietly on the tower balcony, playing Archon against herself or reading.

Darius stood by Faydren's desire to keep peace in the Circle, and did what he could to sway the other Templars' opinions. There were some who still believed their sole duty was protector and guardian. Any who considered Faydren a friend couldn't accept any other way of thinking. That number was not small, however it was still vastly outnumbered.

He saw how hard she was trying, and it hurt to watch as she slowly became an outcast from the majority. It was obvious to all when she started spending less and less time in the public areas. Everything seemed darker, rooms felt colder, and the air was heavy. The ones who drove her away refused to acknowledge the change, but you could see it in their faces. Things were getting worse.

This time, Darius sought Faydren out on the balcony. She didn't notice him enter, her eyes distant as she gazed out from the tower. His brow furrowed in concern as he looked at her more closely. She looked so tired and fragile… Pale and flushed, her eyes were dulled and she'd gotten skinnier.

Darius moved to the chair across from her and sat down quietly. His presence startled her out of the reverie and her gaze moved to his face. After a moment she smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes like it used to. He smiled back gently.

"Who's winning?" His hand gestured to the board set up between them, clearly in mid-game.

"Oh. It's a close match really, but I'm going to take a risk here and say… me."

"A daring move. But perhaps you'd like to try your skills with me instead? It's been a long time since we played. I swear I've gotten better."

"I- yes. A real match would be nice," Faydren looked at him with gratitude and began resetting the board. Darius reached out and placed his hand on her head. She paused but didn't say or do anything. A ragged sigh escaped her.

"It's going to be okay."

"No, I'm pretty sure you're going to lose."

He laughed at that and leaned back in his chair as they began their match. She did seem happier though. For now at least.

***
Circle of Magi disbanded - Age 22
***

Faydren woke abruptly to someone shaking her. She smelled smoke and burning and heard the sounds of battle nearby. For a moment, she was seven again when her family's carriage was under attack and panic gripped her heart. The air around her began crackling with energy.

"Faydren, it's me!"

Her mind cleared and she realized Darius was the one shaking her. Something was wrong. His voice was strained, his armor was scorched and stained with blood, and his sword was drawn. Looking to the door, she saw some of her other Templar friends standing guard with a few of the mages that remained close allies. All showed signs of fighting and minor injuries.

"The White Spire has fallen. The Circles are disbanded. Everything has fallen into chaos!"

The words struck her like a blow. This couldn't be happening. The Circle was her life, her family – Templars and mages. They couldn't really be fighting each other like this, right? Tears slid down her cheeks as she acknowledged the world she loved crumbling away. She swallowed hard before meeting Darius' eyes.

"What do we do?"

"We get out. None of us want this fight. The main doors are blockaded, but I know a side passage that's only meant to be used by Templars for emergencies. I'd say this counts," he spoke with confidence and authority. It gave Faydren some comfort.
"Alright. Lead the way," she gathered what few things she needed and dressed while they turned away.

"We may have to fight to get there," he looked at her apologetically.

"I'll do what I have to. If they have any sense left, they'll let us pass unchallenged."

Darius was surprised by how quickly she was able to quash her feelings. Standing close to her, one could feel the raw electrical power waiting to be released. Her eyes were hard, their purple glow growing even more pronounced.

Some mages and Templars they passed saw the group and chose not to engage. Even their beliefs and rage were given pause by the memories they shared of Faydren and Darius. However, the fighting did come. Their group's Templars focused on fighting Templars and the mages focused on their own as well, all trying to finish with nonlethal blows. It didn't always work, and they received more injuries as a result, but they refused to fight any other way. Thankfully, Ann was a healer and kept them going.

They reached the first floor without anything too severe happening, but the situation there was dire. Bodies littered the floor and Darius could see Faydren visibly pale, hands clenched at her sides as she kept her gaze straight forward. There was a nasty burn on her left shoulder and multiple lacerations on her torso from Templars who got through. The healing was enough to stop the bleeding, but there would definitely be scars. He cringed at the thought as he looked at her face – a cruel gash cut under both eyes and across the bridge of her nose. Someone clearly intended to take her head off with the swing. That was a scar she would be unable to disguise.

Turning the corner into the west wing main hall, Rexas cursed loudly. In the center of the room stood something all of them had prayed not to encounter. Its form was monstrous –skin stretched and torn as the body bulged unnaturally, arms and fingers long and skeletal.

"What is that?" Faydren breathed.

"Abomination…" Darius grit his teeth.

It hissed at them angrily and launched a fireball from its hand. The Templars moved in front of the mages and raised their shields. The fire deflected down into the floor from the shield of one of the younger recruits, Veran.

"Rexas, Rialto – engage in melee. The rest of you with me, shields up. Mages, wait for openings and light that thing up," the orders came easily, even though Darius was far from the most senior member of their group. The others responded without question.

As Rex moved past a spot on the tiled floor, it began to glow orange and bubble before erupting into a molten figure with glowing golden eyes. The Templar raised his shield but to no avail as a large searing arm swung out, slamming into the shield and sending him tumbling across the floor.

"Rex!" Ann screamed, rushing past the shield wall in an attempt to reach him.

"Ann, don't! That's a Rage demon!" Darius called out to her.

Rialto was doing his best holding off the abomination, but it was a difficult task alone. The mages were no longer sure what to target and simply stood dumbfounded as the Rage demon began to slide toward its new target. Ann was kneeling by Rex, trying desperately to wake him up as the demon rose up behind her.

"No!" Faydren pushed to the front and slammed her staff blade into the ground. A rush of cold air whipped across the room, reaching the demon and freezing it solid mid-swing.

"Darius!" she shouted.

"Right!" he didn't need her to tell him the plan. "Mages, focus on the abomination!"

He could hear them begin to follow his order as he charged across the room, shield raised. He approached the frozen demon, but didn't slow. The ice was beginning to crack, it needed to happen now. With a final lunge, Darius smashed his shield into the creature and it shattered. It shrieked once before melting away to nothing. He stood panting and watched in relief as the abomination was brought down as well.

"I can't get him to wake up," a small voice came from beside him. Looking down at Ann, her eyes were wide and filled with tears. Rexas lay unmoving in her arms.

"I never even told him that I loved him," her voice broke and she began sobbing uncontrollably. Faydren knelt next to the smaller girl and wrapped her in an embrace. Her own tears fell silently, creating trails through the blood and grime on her face. The whole group stood in silence for a time.

"Come. We're almost there."

They entered the west wing library, battered and exhausted but relieved at the thought of getting out. Their salvation was close at hand. Darius released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, striding quickly toward the panel that held the exit door.

"It seems I was right that someone would betray our oath and attempt to help mages escape through this door," a voice rang out through the room as several Templars emerged from behind the shelves lining the room.

"Seranus? What are you doing here?" Darius' mouth hung open in shock. All of these Templars just waiting… they didn't appear to have done any fighting at all.

"I am doing my duty, traitor - preventing the escape of dangerous mages." On closer inspection, all of these men were recent transfers from other Circles. No wonder.

"You're just waiting here to ambush anyone wanting to avoid the slaughter?! You should be out there! Fighting demons and abominations! True threats!"

"All mages are a threat. You know this. If even one escaped, they could wreak havoc on the countryside and innocent people."

Darius could barely contain his rage. These were the type of Templars that had caused this whole thing to happen. Bigots and hypocrites. They didn't deserve the symbol they wore. As they spoke, Darius had nudged his group to move in the direction of the panel, putting their backs to it.

"You don't deserve to call yourself a Templar… None of you do!" Darius snarled and dropped to a shield stance. His group followed suit, the true Templars creating an outer shell for the mages preparing their spells. Even Ann had recovered enough to ready her staff.

"You're a fool, boy."

Seranus ordered the charge. The first wave broke like water against a dam as the shield wall held and spells lanced through the attackers. The second wave fared little better. Then a third. Darius focused on nothing more than doing his part to keep the charges at bay. He could feel the electricity in the air surrounding them and knowing its source gave him strength. To his surprise, lightning occasionally jumped from his shield and armor to strike nearby foes.

"You're all incompetent! The lot of you!" Seranus roared and lifted his large maul. "I'll show you how it's done."

Rather than attack the front, Seranus charged one of the weak spots on the side. The shield wall faltered, and the fight descended into chaos. It didn't take long for their smaller, exhausted group to be overwhelmed.

"Look out!"

Sword locked with an enemy, Darius turned his head to see Faydren's staff barely turning aside a blade clearly meant for him. A large armored boot kicked her in the gut and her knees buckled. Horror filled him as he saw the shield smash into the side of her head. She crumpled to the ground.

"Faydren!" The panic in his voice was audible, and drew the attention of his remaining allies. They quickly began to close ranks on their fallen friend.

With a roar, Darius broke the sword-lock and killed his opponent before turning to impale the man who'd attacked Faydren. Lifting her into his arms, he weaved his way towards the exit while the others cleared a path. He reached the door and Veran had managed to open it, waving them through.

Looking over his shoulder, Darius knew… Those who remained standing would not be able to hold the pursuers back long enough for an escape. He locked eyes with Veran and handed Faydren off to him. The recruit was surprised, but seemed to understand the situation.

"Get her to safety. Don't let them have her," his voice caught a bit.

"You have my word, Darius. It's- it's been an honor," Veran choked out.

Remembering something, Darius reached into a pouch at his waist and pulled out a small wrapped package. He stuffed it into Veran's hand.

"Give this to her for me."

With that, he ushered Veran into the tunnel and slammed the door shut before breaking off the handle. Darius' face was grim and determined as he turned back to the fight. Nobody was getting through that door.

Faydren's eyes blinked open but she quickly closed them again as her head pounded viciously. From the quick glimpse she got, it seemed she was lying in a hastily-made camp. Warmth emanated from a small fire next to her and it felt nice.

What didn't feel nice was her body. Any of it. Her face felt like it had been used as a training dummy, her shoulder was on fire, it hurt to breathe, and all her cuts were itching something fierce. Her mind was slowly piecing things back together when her eyes popped open. She ignored the pain and scrambled to her feet, hobbling around the camp in search of people. It didn't take long to realize nobody was there. The world spun and she leaned heavily against a tree.

"Oh good, you're awake," a relieved voice spoke behind her.

Turning, she was thrilled to see Veran. He was carrying firewood and a dead fennec, though he should probably be resting himself. Walking with a limp and favoring one arm, his condition couldn't be much better than hers.

"Veran! I'm glad you made it. Where are the others? Ann? Rialto?" Her heart began to sink as he refused to meet her eyes. She could barely speak the last name. "…Darius?"

The young man set down the supplies and picked something out of his equipment. Limping over to her, he placed the small package in her hand. The name Faydren was written hastily on the wrapping. She opened it slowly, barely able to breathe. Inside was Darius' Templar pendant and a note.

Be safe, little sister. I love you. Never forget that.

Yours Forever,
Darius

Her legs gave out, but Veran was ready and caught her before she fell. He lowered them both slowly until their knees touched the ground and he was certain she wouldn't fall. Faydren was shaking uncontrollably, eyes wide and vacant as she brought the pendant up to her lips. The young Templar couldn't bear to stay for what came next and walked out a short distance from the camp. It's unlikely anywhere would have been far enough.

Faydren's anguished cries pierced the night, echoing through plains and forest as great rumbling clouds rolled in to block out the sky. The wildlife responded in kind, for even they could recognize the sound of the truly heartbroken.

Angry. Bitter. Cold. These were words Veran would never have thought could apply to the warm and caring young mage he'd been introduced to four years ago. She'd had a smile for everyone – and a hug if you weren't careful. Now as he watched his traveling companion, it was impossible to tell if any of that girl remained.

The scar across her face was prominent, but healing nicely. The rest of her external wounds were all but recovered. There were no smiles, however. Her jaw remained tight, and there was a darkness lurking in her eyes... Darkness filled with a hatred for the world that took her brother away. Veran knew they weren't true siblings, but he'd seen the way they were together and he read the note. Blood or no, the two had been family.

It was days after she read that message before she was coherent or willing enough to plan out their next move. During that time, she didn't eat and barely slept. Veran had begun to worry that he'd fail his promise to Darius after the fact. She pulled it together in the end somehow, though the result was someone he didn't recognize.

Faydren remained polite and amiable enough, but she kept him at arms-length. This turned out to be somewhat literal as well since he got a slight shock anytime he touched her. She appeared downright hostile among strangers though and avoided interaction as much as possible.

They stumbled across a town early on, allowing them to find Faydren some clothes that were less conspicuous than a mage's robes. Stories of apostates roaming the countryside were already beginning to spread and so her staff was left behind as well, albeit reluctantly. Veran wore his Templar garb when they needed extra credibility, but otherwise stuck to something more casual.

Neither could think of any place to go, so they simply wandered from place to place picking up news and doing odd jobs. This was how they heard about the Conclave. A chance for peace between mages and Templars seemed almost too much to hope for. But if the two of them could live it on a daily basis, wasn't it at least possible? With her current outlook, Veran wasn't sure Faydren would be interested in attending. It surprised him when she was the one to bring it up.

"Do you think it could work? The Conclave, I mean."

"I think there's a chance, yes. You and I are proof enough of that," Veran spoke cautiously.

"I suppose that's true... Perhaps we should go then," Faydren kept her eyes down, focused on the pendant resting in her palm.

"Would you like to?" He saw her pause.

"I think he would want to..."

"You're right, he would. Let's do it," he nodded slowly before standing up and beginning to pack for the journey.

Little did the two know, the world itself was about to be changed forever...