The Youth of the Dalish: A Dragon Age Fan-Fiction Story

Mother

"Mother, why are humans so cruel to elves?"

Cathy was startled by her son's question. She knew that her son was one of the smartest kids of the clan, but he was only eight. How could he already be asking questions that were only merely asked by adults? Cathy held her gaze toward her son's half lightened face by the blaze of the fire between them. She finally, after an almost awkward moment, spoke with a grin. "Now, who told you that young man?"

Juli responded rather quickly. "Uncle told me."

"Damn Nicholas," Cathy whispered to herself, "you couldn't wait until he was a teenager to tell him that." Cathy adjusted herself on the log she had been sitting on. "Well humans..." she smiled and still held her gaze, but her face, as always, was outlined with tenderness for her beloved son, "are different from us."

Juli was baffled. "But like they don't have pointy ears like us you mean?"

Cathy wanted to be kind to her son, but she couldn't. She couldn't be soft not even to her son, not when it came to talk about those beasts they call humans. "No, humans are different from the Dalish because they think they're above us elves. As oppose to the Dalish, noble believers who want to be left alone. They think that their status justifies their cruelty." Her grin faded, and she started poking the fire with a stick. She was now looking at the fire rather than at her son. She was staring at the fire because its flames reminded her of humans' hearts. Cathy always thought their hearts were just like a fire, fueled by pride, but one day that pride will consume them, just like the fire consumes the twigs. She stared and poked the fire for another moment, she was letting her son ponder what she had just said. She decided, he had had enough time to ponder it, "They are prideful beasts that think of the unknown as a threat."

Juli cocked an eyebrow. He licked his lips, Cathy noticed. His face gave her the intuition that her son, will be one of those curious kids. His face manifested hunger, but not for food. He was hungry to know more about these prideful beasts. But why? Cathy asked herself. Most kids, especially this young, will just take the hint that these beasts are not friends. That they are not to be trustworthy. We are not to be fond of them.

Juli did not take that hint. "They are cruel to us, Dalish, because they don't understand us?"

Cathy decided to stop poking the fire and threw the stick onto it. She now looked at her son again, but this time she studied him. She did not hold a gaze at him, but rather looked at him with curiosity. Her son's eagerness to learn made her glad, but it also scared her. It scared her because she knew now more than ever that she would not be able to lie to her son, ever. It wasn't that Cathy wanted to lie to her son, but there were things, Cathy thought, that a typical eight year old is not ready for. But Juli was not a typical eight year old, and Cathy has known that since he was six. At the age of six he had already shown an interest in archery. At the age of seven he started going hunting with his father. At the age of seven most kids would still play with other kids, but not Juli, he'd rather play with a bow and arrow in the woods than play tag with the other kids. Juli was a special eight year old. Cathy leaned in. "Something like that," she got up and dabbed her knees, in an effort to clean off some dust. "Oh right young man, time for bed. You must rest to gather energy to hunt tomorrow."

Juli rose from his log, in a nimble manner. "Almost forgot." Juli stood there and looked at the fire with his mother. They were both staring at the fire now. The silence between them was only punctuated by the cracks of the twigs that were now getting louder as the last twigs burned to ashes. Cathy listened carefully to the cracks of the twigs— not cracks, screams. Twigs screaming in a fire as the last bits of them are burned to ashes. Unfortunately, the screams came in too late. These poor twigs have already been not just charred but burned completely to ashes. Those cracks, Cathy thought, are the cries of humans after their pride consumes them. Cathy looked at her son and took his gentle hand in hers. "Come on now, got a big day ahead of you tomorrow".