Enasal Lavellan

Chapter 1

Enasal was exhausted, more so than she had ever been before.

But she went quickly.

Over a month of travel across land and sea had drained her. Fall melted into winter as she traveled across the Waking Sea, the new chill a welcome relief to her seasick stomach as they sailed. By the time her shaky legs managed their way back onto dry land, snow had started to fall. Every day, her pack grew heavier as she tracked the movements of the mages and the templars, staying well out of sight as she followed from a distance. With dwindling spirit and frozen bones, she trudged upward - but at the sight of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, a little flicker of hope lit itself in her heart.

She might be accepted back into her clan. Her name would be unbound, and her sister would smile again.

All she had to do was listen; listen and report back to the new Keeper with what she had heard.

Enasal crept around the outskirts of the temple, hood over her head in hopes of hiding her pointed ears and the Vallaslin under her eyes. People milled this way and that, fingers twitching and necks twisting with the frazzled tension in the air.

This was a place where trust was absent.

Taking advantage of the sheer number of people, Enasal slipped into the temple unnoticed.

Everything hurt.

Enasal stumbled up, wiping her stinging eyes as she looked around. Green fog hung around impossible structures, and the ground seemed to vibrate underneath her as chunks floated up and out of the ground.

She was in the fade.

The silence was shattered by a sickeningly familiar sound, one that she had often heard while trying to hide from the elements in caves - the skittering of eight massive legs. Her blades were old and simple, but she drew them anyway, ready to defend herself.

One, four, fifteen, uncountable.

Knowing it was a fight she couldn't win, she ran. Dodging structures, jumping over debris, and leaping over gaps. From the corner of her eye, she saw a light and turned on her heels towards it.

Someone stood in the light, backlit so thoroughly that she couldn't see who or what it was. The figure reached out a hand, and with no other choice Enasal grasped it tight.

The next thing she was aware of was pain. Worse than the pain she felt when she found herself in the fade.

Disoriented, Enasal went to stand, but shackles kept her wrists bound together, and a hand came down hard on her shoulder.

"Stay down, knife-ear."

As if tied to her own panic, a green light flared up around her palm. Green and black tendrils ripped up her wrist with searing pain. She clutched her left hand, cursing under her breath.

"Maybe we should cut her hands off." A tall human man stood on one side of the door, watching her with squinted eyes, "Mages can't cast without their hands."

She wasn't a mage, but Enasal stayed quiet.

"'Mages can't cast without their hands?" The other asked, reaching out to lightly smack the first on the head, "How stupid are you?"

"You ever seen a handless mage?" He snapped.

The other sneered and shot back, "I know that if that worked we'd see a lot fewer mages and a lot more people missing hands!"

Tempers were short - these people were angry about something. But not just people, no. These were shemlens - men ones. One wrong look and they'd drag her away, dock her ears, and burn the ink from her face. She almost reached up to touch her short-cropped curls - her sister had always said measures were needed to keep yourself safe around them - and that words must be chosen carefully.

She flinched when the door swept open. Two women came in. Once seemed gentle, with soft features and red hair. The other one made her hair stand on end and sent a shiver down her spine - she seemed dangerous, all sharp angles and narrowed eyes.

The dangerous woman strode toward her, her face inches from her own. "Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now."

Enasal's mouth opened, but she had suddenly forgotten how to speak.

"The Conclave is gone, and you are the only one left."

" Ir abelas -"

One of the guards spoke up, "Speak Common, knife-ear!"

Oh, Creators, she had forgotten Common.

How did Common work? How did you say Ir again?

The red-haired woman glared, and she suddenly seemed less gentle. "Leave us - all of you."

Grumbling, they shuffled out, the one who had threatened her hands spitting before leaving.

The dangerous woman grabbed the shackles holding her as the green light flared, and pain shot up her arm. "Explain this."

I!

I is how you said Ir!

Common flowed back into her brain, and the words finally came, "I don't know."

The black-haired woman lunged forward, "What do you mean, 'I don't know'?"

This was the end. They were going to kill her. Cut off her ears and burn the Vallisin from her face. She felt the tears form, praying as she tried to swallow them down. She shouldn't show weakness, she should be polite but proud. Instead, she was shivering. Despite her attempts, she could feel hot tears on her face.

The dangerous woman's arm was up - maybe she'd knock her out, maybe hard enough to kill her outright.

Her arm was grabbed by the other woman. She suddenly realized she felt an odd surge of kinship with the one who shared her hair color - her own hair was fiery and unruly, while this woman was neat and well-kept, but still. Enasal and her sister were the only redheads in her clan - maybe she was the only redhead here.

"Cassandra, stop." The woman said, "Look at her, she is shaking. She is the only one left - we need her."

The dark-haired woman's head snapped around, and her voice raised to a near-shout, "She might have caused it? She might have killed the Most Holy!"

"The only one?" Enasal's voice was barely a whisper. "But..." How many had been at the Conclave? What had happened to make her the only survivor?

"Do you remember anything?" The redhead asked.

Enasal hesitated. "I was in the fade, and there were spiders and buildings and..." She trailed off.

"And how did you escape?" Cassandra demanded.

"I..." It sounded crazy, like a fever dream. But she mustered her courage and told them, "There were all these spiders, and I was running, too many to fight, you see and-"

"You've already told us about the spiders!"

Enasal looked down. "I saw a light and a woman."

"A woman?" The redhead asked.

Enasal nodded. "Maybe a spirit, or another survivor?" She swallowed, "Those people are really dead? All of them?"

"All of them."

Her breath hitched, "How?"

Cassandra looked toward the other woman, "Go to the camp, Leliana. I'll take her to the rift."

Enasal looked at Leliana - despite the look she had given the guards, she still had something that seemed to have some kindness, some gentleness to her. It might have been a trick, but she would try her luck.

"Leliana, halani! No, no, Ir - I mean help! Don't let her-"

"You will not be harmed." Cassandra said gruffly, yanking her up. "I am told you might be the key to fixing all this."

Her shackles were removed, and she was taken into the blinding daylight.