~Hello everyone! I have rewritten chapter 1. I felt it lacked in detail and didn't run fluidly as I wanted it to go as I started to reread it. So I hope this is slightly better than it was before. Thank you for reading. I hope to improve my writing as I go along. I promise things will begin to get interesting in upcoming chapters.~
~~~Xarga12~~~
In recent times, Kirkwall found itself ensnared in the tightening grip of corruption. Following the valiant intervention of Hawke, the esteemed Champion of Kirkwall, which averted the cataclysmic wrath of the Arishok, the city's unrest only burgeoned. The once-simmering conflict between the mages and Templars surged into a relentless tempest. As the scars of chaos marred certain quarters of the city, a fervent call for reconstruction echoed, and those willing to lend a hand were greeted with open arms. Amidst this turmoil, glimpses of hope flickered in the form of Hawke and her band of altruistic wanderers. They traversed the city's alleys, extending aid to the downtrodden and destitute. Hawke, herself a mage of considerable prowess, moved through Kirkwall unhindered by restrictive boundaries. However, unlike the prevalent sentiment among her peers, she refrained from fervently advocating for mages' rights. Her demeanor, notably stern, especially towards practitioners of forbidden blood magic, hinted at the scars left by her own personal tribulations, particularly the tragic fate that befell her mother.
Cullen couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy towards her - a young woman whose veins pulsed with the arcane energies of magic. Her very existence served as a constant reminder of the perilous nature of her innate abilities. Yet, in the face of this looming threat, she stood resolute in her determination not to succumb to the corrupting influence that had ensnared so many others before her. Her unwavering fortitude and the purity of her heart commanded his respect and admiration. She was a beacon of inspiration, igniting a spark of hope within those fortunate enough to cross paths with her. Even among the ranks of the templars, where distrust of mages ran deep, her influence began to sow seeds of doubt. Some of his fellow knights, once staunch in their convictions, found themselves questioning whether the blanket condemnation of all mages as criminals was just. As the days unfolded, Cullen's encounters with Hawke and her companions became a familiar occurrence. Amidst the chaos of Kirkwall, they traversed the labyrinthine streets, extending a helping hand to those in desperate need. And it was amidst one of these acts of selflessness that Cullen's attention was drawn to an unfamiliar figure among them - an elf whose presence had previously eluded his notice.
As the woman approached, Cullen's initial assumption flickered with uncertainty. He had anticipated the familiar sight of the mage elf who often traversed the city with her companion. Yet, as his gaze lingered upon her, he discerned the absence of the telltale staff, replaced instead by a sleek blade at her side and a bow slung across her back. Intrigued, he observed her with a scrutinizing eye, attempting to discern her identity amidst the bustling streets of Kirkwall. His contemplation was abruptly interrupted by the approach of Hawke and her retinue, drawing his attention away from the enigmatic newcomer. In a reflexive display of military discipline, Cullen straightened his posture, a gesture that did not escape Hawke's keen observation. "At ease, Knight-Captain," she quipped, her tone laced with a subtle sarcasm that pricked at Cullen's sense of urgency. He bristled inwardly, finding little patience for such banter amidst the pressing matters at hand. A soft, muffled cough from the young elf beside Hawke betrayed an attempt to stifle a burgeoning giggle, prompting Cullen to cast a brief glance in her direction. It was then that he realized he had never before encountered this particular individual. She stood before him with an air of quiet confidence, devoid of the customary facial markings that adorned many of her kin. Her eyes, a captivating shade of midnight blue tinged with hints of orange, held a depth of wisdom beyond her years. Her complexion, slightly darker than most elves, bespoke of a life weathered by the harsh realities of existence. And as the sunlight danced upon her silvery tresses, Cullen couldn't help but marvel at the ethereal beauty that graced her presence. Each strand shimmered with a delicate luster, a striking contrast against the backdrop of her dusky skin. Despite her slender frame, she possessed a stature that surpassed the average height of her kin, lending an aura of distinctiveness to her presence amidst the throng of passersby.
Cullen's gaze sharpened as he turned to face Hawke, his expression a blend of scrutiny and subtle disapproval. "It seems you've acquired yet another mage for your collection. They aren't stray puppies in need of a home," he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of skepticism. The elf girl, Nereida, visibly flinched at his blunt assessment, her eyes widening in surprise at his brazen remark. Yet, despite her initial shock, she remained composed, a flicker of defiance dancing in her gaze. Hawke, undeterred by Cullen's skepticism, strode confidently towards Nereida, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulder with a gentle shake. "Ah, but you see, my dear Knight-Captain, appearances can be deceiving," she countered, her voice carrying a note of amusement as she addressed Cullen. "Allow me to introduce Nereida of Clan Agarevran. A mage who isn't quite a mage, per se." Cullen regarded the pair with a mixture of confusion and intrigue, his brow furrowing as he struggled to reconcile the contradictory nature of Hawke's proclamation. "I'm not sure I follow," he admitted, his tone tinged with a hint of uncertainty.
Hawke, ever perceptive, noticed the furrow of confusion etching across Cullen's brow and wasted no time in clarifying the situation. "She's a mage, but she hasn't utilized her powers yet because she hasn't discovered her purpose, am I correct?" she interjected, her voice carrying a note of certainty as she sought to dispel Cullen's uncertainty. Nereida, nodded in confirmation, her gaze meeting Cullen's with unwavering resolve. "Indeed, that's correct," she affirmed, her tone measured yet tinged with a hint of solemnity. "In my clan, our magical abilities lie dormant until we uncover a purpose that serves the greater good of our people." Cullen arched a skeptical eyebrow, his skepticism palpable as he mulled over her explanation. "So let me get this straight," he began, his voice laced with incredulity. "You traveled all the way to Kirkwall, a city where mages are viewed with suspicion and fear, solely to discover your purpose?" She met his incredulity with a calm nod, her expression unyielding despite the weight of his skepticism. "Yes, that's precisely it," she acknowledged, her voice steady as she offered her explanation. "But unlike other mages, the magic within my clan goes unnoticed by demons. We're considered anomalies, a curiosity in the eyes of those who wield more conventional forms of magic. For us, the stakes are higher; once we awaken our powers, they can easily slip away, leaving us cut off from the Fade forever."
Cullen's mind whirled with incredulity as he grappled with the unfamiliar concept presented by Nereida. The notion of dormant magical abilities tied to a communal purpose was entirely foreign to him, and he couldn't help but harbor doubts about its veracity. However, mindful of the delicate balance of cultural sensitivity, he treaded cautiously as he sought clarification. "So, is this akin to some form of ritual or ceremony, like the rite of tranquility?" he inquired, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty as he glanced between Nereida and Hawke. To his surprise, Hawke's reaction was swift and palpable. The shock that flickered in her eyes was unmistakable, swiftly followed by a subtle shake of her head. "The rite of tranquility? I'm not familiar with that term," she responded, her tone genuine and laced with a hint of confusion. Cullen's heart sank slightly at the realization of his misstep. He hadn't anticipated Hawke's reaction, and the innocence in her tone only served to deepen his regret. Clearing his throat, he attempted to backtrack, sensing Hawke's unspoken desire for the topic to be dropped. However, a nagging curiosity gnawed at him, urging him to press further despite Hawke's unspoken plea. After all, what harm could a simple inquiry do? The truth was bound to surface eventually, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Nereida's story than met the eye.
Cullen's voice carried a somber weight as he began to explain, "The rite of tranquility is a procedure reserved for mages deemed too dangerous. It's a drastic measure intended to mitigate the threat they pose. Through this rite, they willingly relinquish their magical abilities in exchange for the promise of a peaceful existence, sparing them from execution." Hawke's reaction was immediate and visceral. With an exasperated gesture, she threw her hands up in frustration and began pacing back and forth, her movements reflecting the turmoil within her. The other members of the group echoed her sentiments, their expressions ranging from disbelief to scorn, particularly Anders, whose disdain was palpable. Nereida, ever curious, tilted her head in an attempt to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "Is that all?" she asked, her voice tinged with innocence and genuine curiosity. "It sounds rather pleasant; they become 'normal' like you, correct?" Her words were spoken with a simplicity that belied the complexity of the topic at hand.
"I suppose in some ways, yes," Cullen conceded, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "But it's not quite as simple as that. Losing one's magic is a profound loss, regardless of the circumstances." Nereida's response was a radiant smile, her demeanor untouched by the weight of their conversation. "I understand," she said brightly. "Some of my clan mates have faced a similar fate, losing their magical abilities when they lost their purpose. Initially, they were saddened by it, but they eventually came to terms with their new reality and found happiness." As Nereida's innocent optimism filled the air, the rest of the group exchanged somber glances, even Cullen, who couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow. They knew all too well the harsh realities of their world, and in that moment, Nereida's innocence served as a poignant reminder of the innocence lost to the cruelties of their existence.
Hawke's approach was gentle yet firm as she placed a comforting hand on Nereida's shoulder. "There's something important I need to share with you, something I wanted to keep hidden until you were ready," she began, her gaze flickering briefly towards Cullen, who stood nearby. Confusion clouded Nereida's features as she looked between Hawke and Cullen, searching for understanding. "I don't understand," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "The Knight-Captain just explained what the Rite of Tranquility was. Is there something I'm missing?" Hawke paused, choosing her words with care as she considered how best to convey the truth. "The Rite of Tranquility isn't quite what you may think it is," she explained, her tone somber. "Yes, it can render a dangerous mage non-hostile, but there's a darker side to it as well. Once someone undergoes the Rite, they lose all emotion. They become empty shells of their former selves." A shiver ran down Nereida's spine as she processed Hawke's words, a chill of unease settling in the pit of her stomach. The implications of such a fate weighed heavily upon her, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding at the thought of losing one's very essence to such a cruel fate.
Nereida blinked in confusion, her brow furrowing as she struggled to grasp the gravity of Hawke's words. "Lose all emotion? What exactly does that entail?" she inquired, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she sought clarification. Before anyone could respond, Anders stepped forward, his expression grave as he regarded Nereida. "I believe it would be best if you were to witness it firsthand," he suggested, his voice carrying a weight of solemn conviction. Nereida's gaze flickered between Anders, Hawke, and Cullen, a sense of apprehension gnawing at her. The tension in the air was palpable, each moment stretching into an awkward silence until Hawke finally broke the uneasy standoff. "Perhaps it's best if we postpone this discussion for another time," Hawke interjected, her tone strained yet diplomatic. "After all, we still have repairs to attend to. I'm sure we've already taken up enough of our dear Knight-Captain's time with these mundane inquiries, haven't we?"
Cullen's demeanor shifted as he addressed the group, his stance rigid and authoritative. "You make a valid point," he began, his voice carrying a hint of sternness. "While you may hold the title of champion, it's crucial to remember that you're still a mage. Meredith has shown leniency thus far, but don't mistake her tolerance for unlimited freedom. Her patience may not extend as far as mine." Each member of the group received a piercing glance from Cullen, his gaze lingering for a moment before settling on Nereida. Her eyes, filled with a mixture of uncertainty and apprehension, met his own, and for a fleeting moment, he felt a pang of empathy tug at his heart. 'What a disastrous first impression,' he thought to himself, a hint of regret coloring his features. Despite his initial sternness, Cullen's expression softened imperceptibly, a fleeting moment of vulnerability betrayed by the flicker of emotion in his eyes. However, he quickly regained his composure and briskly walked past the group, determined to maintain his professional demeanor. As he passed, he felt the weight of their collective gaze upon him, a silent testament to the gravity of the situation. Suppressing the urge to glance back, Cullen pressed on, his footsteps echoing in the silence that enveloped them. Just when he believed himself to be at a safe distance, a sudden impulse seized him. With a hesitant pause, he turned on his heel, casting a final glance over his shoulder.
As Cullen stood amidst the tension-laden atmosphere, his gaze inadvertently locked with the woman's sorrowful eyes. For a fleeting moment, he felt himself drawn into the depths of her gaze, a silent exchange passing between them. However, the moment was short-lived, as she quickly averted her eyes upon realizing his scrutiny, retreating behind Hawke's protective presence. Hawke, ever vigilant, observed the interaction, her expression unreadable as she ushered the woman away with a subtle gesture. As they departed, Cullen couldn't help but catch a final, disdainful glance thrown in his direction, leaving him with a lingering sense of bewilderment. Despite the unsettling encounter, Cullen maintained his resolve, refusing to be derailed by the enigmatic exchange. With a determined shake of his head, he brushed aside his confusion and redirected his focus towards the task at hand. As he turned away from the scene, a sense of weariness settled upon his shoulders, the weight of the day's events pressing down upon him. With a silent sigh, he began the journey back to the gallows, longing for the solace of his quarters and the respite of a peaceful night's sleep. Amidst the turmoil of Kirkwall, Cullen sought refuge in the sanctuary of his own thoughts, yearning for the tranquility that awaited him within the confines of his room. It had been an eventful day, fraught with tension and uncertainty, and he knew that a restful night's sleep would be the balm his weary soul desperately needed.
As a throbbing headache began to gnaw at the edges of his consciousness, Cullen reached into his pouch with a practiced hand, retrieving a small vial of lyrium. With a resigned sigh, he uncorked the vial and swallowed its contents in one swift motion, feeling the familiar surge of relief as the pain ebbed away. He loathed relying on the lyrium, but the alternative was unthinkable – without it, he wouldn't be able to function, let alone fulfill his duties as a templar. Despite the temporary respite, his mind remained restless, the events of the day replaying in an endless loop. Thoughts of Nereida, the enigmatic elf whose presence had unsettled him, tugged at the fringes of his consciousness. He couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that accompanied her memory, nor could he understand why she had left such an indelible mark upon him. With a frustrated exhale, Cullen ran a hand through his hair, grappling with the turmoil of conflicting emotions. He knew he shouldn't allow himself to be consumed by such trivial matters – after all, his duty as a templar demanded his unwavering focus. Yet, try as he might, he couldn't silence the nagging voice in the back of his mind, urging him to confront the unease that plagued him. Resigned to his fate, Cullen acknowledged that he wouldn't find peace until he confronted the source of his disquiet. With a determined nod, he resolved to seek out Nereida and offer the apology that weighed heavily upon his conscience. Only then could he hope to find solace and put his restless thoughts to rest.
As Cullen reflected on the events of the day, a wave of remorse washed over him. He chided himself for his harshness towards Hawke and her companions, recognizing their unwavering dedication to helping others, even at great personal risk. It dawned on him that his actions had been fueled by misplaced frustration rather than genuine concern for their well-being. Determined to make amends, Cullen resolved to offer his apology first thing in the morning, despite the uncertainty of whether it would be accepted. A glimmer of hope flickered within him at the thought of seeing Nereida again, but he quickly admonished himself for entertaining such thoughts. He knew he had likely irreparably damaged any potential for friendship with his earlier behavior. With a heavy heart, Cullen shed his armor and settled into bed, seeking solace in the familiar verses of the Chant of Light. As the comforting words washed over him, he allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection, hoping that tomorrow would bring the opportunity for reconciliation and forgiveness.
