Chapter Text
It seemed to be an ordinary day in the village. The farmers had already begun their day on the fields, tending to the crops and the animals. Early mornings were when most of the work was done, as whole families worked tirelessly to make a living.
This left Lexana to be by herself, watching them work from the shade as she tried to entertain herself with the newest doll her father had given her. He owned the only trading spot in the village, so even he was busy with work, only occasionally checking up on her to make sure she was okay. He didn’t have time for her anymore as more and more begun trading with him, and her siblings were gone. All but her brother Marcus.
She could only scarcely remember the others. They were all taken by the scary, armored men that showed up in the village when she was still a baby. Her father told her that they were taken to keep the others safe from them. She didn’t understand why it was needed. They were children, same as she was. Why were they thought so dangerous? She didn’t understand it.
She was told, that her oldest brother, Lukas was taken when he was eleven, after he created ice in the middle of summer to help the working farmers cool off. He was spirited away soon enough, never to be seen again. She could not remember him, as he was already ten when she was born, and her father would only get angry whenever she asked about him, so she stopped asking altogether. She had to realize, that her oldest brother would remain a mystery to her, no matter how much she would want to meet him.
Her only memory of her sister is a flame. Roxie was good at it, controlling flames. Marcus told her that their sister could even create shapes and tell a story. It all went wrong when at the age of eleven, she accidentally set a barn on fire, nearly killing herself and their siblings. There was a lot of yelling as her sister was dragged away, her brothers pleading the armored men to spare her, to let her stay, for the fire was an accident. Lexi was too small to understand at the time, that her sister was not coming back.
A few months later, they came for yet another sibling of hers, Elias, after he healed an injured dog on the street, in plain view of everyone. He was only seven at the time and he did not understand why this was wrong, the same way the two-year-old Lexi did not. She cheered for her big brother, how helpful he was when others just stood by and watched. Their father cried for a whole day after the armored men took Elias away and he would not let go of her and Marcus.
As time passed and Lexi grew, the more she understood. Her siblings were mages, feared and shunned. It was the templars that took them, to keep others safe. She barely remembered anything. She didn’t know if they shared her coal black hair and bright blue eyes. If they were taller at her age than she was. She knew nothing of them. Her only companion remained Marcus, the only sibling she got to spend time with.
But that day, even he was busy, running errands for their father and helping out around the trading post. The templars watched them both closely, knowing, that there was a chance that much like their siblings, even they would show signs of being able to control magic. Marcus could, she knew that, but he was careful. He remembered what happened to their siblings all too well, so he hid his abilities, even from their father.
She tried to copy his motions whenever she caught him casting something, but it never worked. Marcus assured her that it was simply because she was too young to show signs. Their siblings were around ten when their talents were discovered and Lexi was only five still, her brother eight. She was scared, that even he would be taken away one day, and that she would be left completely alone. They only had each other. No children their age wanted to play with the Amells, their parents not letting them close to possible mages.
It made for a lonely childhood, but Lexi did not complain. She knew the Chantry’s teachings about magic, her father had made sure to educate her as quickly as possible to help her understand what happened in their family. The templars of the village scared her, though. Always watching, silently, sullenly. They were keeping the villagers safe. But even they were not infallible, their numbers finite.
She realized that quite quickly, as several horsemen rode into the village square, threateningly brandishing steel weapons. Those men were not scared of the templars, but the villagers were scared of them, those that were not on the fields scattering quickly, scampering into their homes. The unknown men spread out, one of them heading towards her. He was covered in armor, so she could not see his expression. She did not need to see it to feel his bad intentions.
Lexi was on her feet in no time, running inside the trading post, when she spotted Marcus returning from an errand, his hands full, his feet rooted into the ground where he stood. He was beset by three of the men, then was pulled out of their way by one of the templars that hastily arrived for his aid, intending to fight the men. She had never seen them use their weapons before, so she just stood by and watched for a few seconds, forgetting all about that swordsman near her.
The templars moved with fluid, learnt motions, quickly cutting through those three that were surrounding her brother, who ended up sprawled on the ground, the objects he was carrying scattered around him. He did not seem to care, though, as he pushed himself up on his knees and their blue eyes met. He desperately screamed her name to remind her of the man she so carelessly forgot about in her worry about him, and she whirled around to see the man but a few steps away from her, his sword already raised high to strike her down.
She screamed, dropping the doll she was clutching, as she backed away from the man, hoping, that one of the templars would save her. They were too far, and she had already backed into the wall, with nowhere left to go.
“Leave my sister alone!” she heard Marcus yell and she cried out when the man was struck by what seemed like a fist made of stone, sending him flying. Right in front of their father, who had just exited the trading post, hearing her scream.
He seemed pale as he first looked at the man, then at her, before his gaze stopped on Marcus, who still had one of his arms extended after casting the spell that saved her. Her body trembled as her tears spilt forth, and she was running for her brother to try to keep the templars away from him. But both were next to him, one of them grabbing his arm and the other doing something to make sure he would not be able to cast again.
“No, please! You can’t take him away!” she cried as her father caught up to her and wrapped his arms around her middle to stop her. “Please! He was just protecting me!” she kept going, desperately trying to get to her brother.
But Marcus had given up. He did not struggle against the templar’s hold, knowing that he could do nothing against them. Against being taken away. His sad eyes met hers as she continued to pry her father’s arms away from her middle, to no avail.
The templars looked at her, then back at her brother. They must have been talking, because Marcus was nodding up at the one that held his arm, only to then be released as the two walked off to deal with the rest of the horsemen. Her brother was running towards her a second after his release, and their father had all but dropped her into his path.
“Are you okay?” Marcus asked her as he cradled her tear-stained cheeks.
She shook her head, her lips trembling. “They are going to take you away because of me!” she wailed, and he was hugging her the next second.
“Shh, shh. We both know that they would have found out eventually,” he tried to soothe her. It wasn’t working.
“Eventually? How long have you been hiding this from me?” their father asked him sternly, as usual. He wasn’t always like that, but first he lost their mother, then his children one by one. It made him cold and distant. Joyless. They did not fault him for it.
“For about a year now,” Marcus confessed, confidently meeting their father’s gaze above her head. He was ready for the hatred that awaited him.
Lexi just hugged him as tightly as she could, burying her face into the crook of his neck, unwilling to ever part with her only remaining sibling. She couldn’t see their father’s crushed face, his hopes crumbling upon this revelation. He hoped, that at least they would not end up as mages after the other three did, but the odds were against him. Even more so, with Lexana being the only one remaining. And who knew how long before her magic manifested?
The templars and the men were still fighting, and were getting overwhelmed by sheer numbers. There were only women and the elderly remaining in the village; they were no help to the soldiers. Their father saw that and grabbed the nearest attacker’s sword to lend a hand.
“Stay here,” he ordered them, as he walked off. Lexi wanted to run after him, to keep him out of the fight, but Marcus did not let her.
“He will be fine,” he assured her, but it was not their father she was worried about.
Their father was almost on the other side of the square when the attacker near her was waking up and the two of them were left there unprotected, watching as he stood and looked for his discarded sword. He grunted when he didn’t find it, then snarled at her brother, who quickly pushed her behind himself to protect her. He couldn’t use magic; the templars made sure of that, so all he could do was putting himself between them.
Marcus didn’t stand a chance against the man, whose strike was swift and sudden. One second, her brother was standing in front of her, the other he was crying out in pain and falling to the ground. Their attacker shoved her against the wall hard enough for her to slam into it, causing her vision to swim in front of her. She was suddenly seeing double for a few seconds, and that was enough time for the man to unsheathe a dagger from his hip and wave it dangerously close to her brother.
Panic flared up deep inside her, and she wasn’t thinking clearly when she threw a hand up towards them, a desperate “No!” leaving her lips as the man was about to stab her helpless brother.
A shimmering barrier prevented him from getting Marcus, the dagger scraping off it, unable to get through. Her head was buzzing as if a thousand bees were stuck inside it, and if their father had not decided to return when he did, their attacker would have been able to stab her brother when the barrier disappeared and she slumped against the wall, exhausted to the bone.
“Did I do that?” she asked them after the man was lying dead nearby, and if the weakness she was experiencing was any indication, then she already knew the answer to that.
“Maker, why do you punish me so?” was the last thing she heard her father mutter before darkness swallowed her.
She awoke sometime later, in her bed to the sounds of a heated argument, but she could not make out what the people were arguing about. They were so loud and angry, and her head was still buzzing enough to make her disoriented and unwilling to get out of bed. That decision was made for her when a templar barged in through the door, uninvited, and loomed over her to check if she was awake.
He just sighed when she blinked up at him with her large eyes, not understanding what he was doing in her bedroom, of all places. She pushed herself up to sit when he took a seat on the chair by her bedside and took his helmet off. It almost made her smile, remembering that she thought they didn’t even have faces when she was little. They were almost never seen without their helmets. She believed them to be nothing but fancy animated suits of armor instead of human beings.
The man seemed younger than her father, his skin pale and his beard and hair the color of copper. His surprisingly kind grey eyes bore into hers as he spoke. “I am Ser Henrik. You are?”
“Lexana. But people call me Lexi.”
He gave her a small smile. “Do you know what you did out there, Lexi?”
“A-a spell?” she asked, uncertain.
The man somberly nodded. “A surprisingly powerful one, considering your age. Your father tells us that he didn’t know about your magic. Is he lying?”
She shook her head, her braids following the motion. “No. I’ve never done anything before,” she admitted. “I-I tried. I know that my siblings could do magic, that’s why they were taken away one after another, so I tried t-to see if I was like them. But it never worked before. Marcus said that because I’m too young for it.”
Ser Henrik scowled at that. “Apparently not.”
Lexi bit her trembling lip. It was all she could do not to burst into tears. “A-are you h-here to t-take me away?”
“Yes. To the Circle of Magi in Ferelden,” was his answer. He showed her no pity.
“And my brother?” she asked, despite knowing the answer. Still, she hoped that by some miracle, at least he would be able to stay.
“He will go to another Circle.”
She could not stop her tears. “W-we will be separated? C-can't we be taken to the same place? Please?” she pleaded with the man, and for the first time since he sat, his grey eyes showed compassion and understanding.
“I’m sorry, Lexi. I cannot help you. We must follow the rules set by the Chantry.” He sighed, seeing her tears cascade down her cheeks, and stood. “Pack a bag. We will be leaving within the hour.”
She didn’t start packing her bag until minutes after he was gone, for crying – wailing, really – felt more important to her than packing that bag. Marcus entered her room to help when that hour was nearly up, and they cried together, holding each other close for one last time. Her brother kissed her forehead when they parted and pulled a familiar wooden sword off his belt, handing it to her.
“Father never let you play with swords, but I guess that will not stop you anymore,” he grinned at her as he sniffled and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his tunic. “You know, Lukas had a sword like this when he was leaving. Father wanted him to have something to remember us by. To Roxie, he gave a doll with our names sewn into it. I think he gave an empty book to Elias, our names etched into the cover. I doubt he would give us anything, so I carved our names into it as best I could.”
“When did you have time to do this?”
He gave her a small, sad smile. “It was only a matter of time before I was discovered, little sister. I knew, that I had to prepare to be taken away. I did not think, that you would be, too. You are only five. Too young.”
“I don’t want to go,” she muttered as she traced her name with a trembling finger. “We will never see each other again.”
“We will find a way. We’ll get powerful enough and escape. Just you wait. We will collect our siblings and return home.”
She tried to smile at him as he detailed his wishes for their future, but she couldn’t. If getting out of the Circles was that easy, then where were their brothers and sister? Why had they not come home yet?
“The Circle will be your new home,” they heard their father speak from the doorway, his words slurred, an almost empty bottle in his hands. “You will have no place here or anywhere in this world,” he spat at them angrily, as if it was their fault that they too turned out to be mages. “I’m glad that your mother disappeared before she was forced to watch you all leave. Mages, all of you,” he growled, then smashed the bottle against the wall, the glass shattering completely.
He was never a violent man, he never as much as raised his voice at them, but at that moment, they were terrified of him, of what he could do to them. He never got a chance to do anything, however, as Ser Henrik and the other templar were right behind him, preventing him from approaching his children.
“It is time to leave,” he told her.
“I don’t want to go,” she repeated to her brother, whispering, squeezing his hand she was holding.
“I don’t, either. But we must.” With that, he tightened his hold on her, grabbed her bag and began towing her behind himself. “Father, I—”
“Get away from me,” their father spat at Marcus, swaying on his legs.
“Daddy,” she tried to say goodbye, but her father’s furious scowl stopped her. So she just took a shaky breath, to hold her sobs back and let her brother pull her out of her bedroom, all the way downstairs of their manor. She took one good look around, trying to memorize it all, then followed Marcus outside.
Some villagers were loitering around, no doubt having heard what was happening to them, and they whispered amongst themselves. Lexi paid them no mind as she hugged her brother one last time before Ser Henrik took her by the hand.
“Please keep her safe, ser,” her brother spoke to the templar, who had already placed his helm on his head.
“I will.”
Teary eyed, they broke away from each other. She was looking at him above her shoulder for as long as she could, but a house soon hid him from her. They went their separate ways, their journeys taking them to different countries altogether. The templar took her to a large city made of stone, Kirkwall he called it, where they set sail to the Storm Coast of Ferelden. She spent those hours sick in the cabin they had for themselves and was excited to hear, that they would be continuing on horseback once they arrived. It was but a day’s ride from the small port town to Lake Calenhad, where ancient ruins the likes of which she had never seen before welcomed her. The high tower of the Circle of Magi loomed over the lake, and she looked at it in awe, admiring it for its beauty. The man that rowed them across the lake remained in silence, and she was grateful for that. She had way too much on her mind to speak.
The closer they got, the more nervous she felt, dread pooling inside her. The doors were massive, and they creaked once open. She was surprised to see people already waiting for the two of them. They were both as old as her father, one wearing a templar armor, the other a robe. She figured he was a mage.
“We have been alerted to your approach, ser,” the armored man began with a raspy voice, his suspicious eyes staring at her. “I am Knight-Commander Greagoir. I’m in charge of the templars of this circle.”
“Ser Henrik Hensley from the Free Marches, ser,” the knight introduced himself as he pulled an envelope out of his bag and handed it to the man, who hastily opened it and began reading.
In the meantime, Lexi curiously took a look around. She was equally mesmerized and bored by the view. The hall they were in was huge, but sparsely decorated. So much empty space!
“Hmph. We’ll have to watch this one,” she heard the Knight-Commander murmur to the mage. “Four siblings, all of them mages. They’ve already been sent to different Circles.”
She finished looking around only to find all eyes on her. She didn’t know what to do about the attention, so she just stared at her feet. The mage was soon kneeling in front of her, seeking her blue gaze with his own. He had kind eyes, unlike the other man.
“How old are you, child?” he asked her.
“Five.”
“Five,” the mage repeated, almost sounding astonished.
“She is barely out of her crib,” the Knight-Commander murmured under his nose.
She scowled up at him defiantly. “I’m not a baby!”
The mage chuckled. “No, you are not. What do we call you?”
“Lexi, ser mage.”
His smile grew into a grin. “Your full name.”
“Lexana Amell.”
“Well, Lexana.” She scrunched her nose up. She didn’t like her long name much, and he noticed, chuckling again as he stood and held his hand out for her. “I am First Enchanter Irving. Allow me to welcome you to Kinloch Hold, your new home. Would you like to explore the tower?”
“Yes!” she enthusiastically answered, ready to begin this new chapter in her life.
By the end of the day, she had her own bed and a newfound fascination with books. There were so many books in the library! She wanted to read all of them, and she vowed, that she eventually would, no matter what they were about. She only had an entire lifetime to do so, after all.
Kinloch Hold was her new home, but that didn’t mean that she did not miss her family. She wished to see Marcus again, have him play with her, be by her side. But that was never happening and as the months turned into years, her yearning lessened to a dull, ever-present ache deep within her heart.