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There was no one dramatic incident that brought the truth home to Catriona and her family. Nothing caught fire or was frozen to ice. There were no bolts of lightning or glowing shields of arcane energy, nor even any mysterious healing or protective powers. And so it took several years for them to realise exactly what was unusual about her – but, in the end, the little things added up.
What she imagined had a tendency to come true. Be it soft light glowing in a candleless darkness, paper birds that folded themselves, or a gently warmed pond in the dead of winter, it was clear that her thoughts had the power to shape reality. And that could mean only one thing.
Catriona Cousland was a mage.
By the time she was ten, her parents were quite sure of that – which, being who they were, left them with only one option. For generations, the Couslands had prided themselves on doing their duty, however difficult or unpleasant. And in this case, their duty was clear as day.
Neither of them felt any joy at the prospect. To be parted, probably forever, from one of their children was not something Bryce or Eleanor Cousland would have chosen. But they had no choice, none at all, not after Mother Mallol had approached them with her concerns. It couldn’t be hushed up, and even to try would be against their principles.
The Templars were called to take their daughter away, and they prepared themselves to lose a child.
The first Catriona knew of her fate was when her father came out into the courtyard and called her away from her game of pretending to fence with her sister Elissa. She threw down her wooden sword, glowing with righteous anger at the unfairness of it all, and got as far as, “But Elissa was making just as much noise as me!” before the look on her father’s face registered.
Her mouth snapped shut like a bear trap. She had never seen him look so grim. It wasn’t an expression that fitted his face – though those who’d fought the Orlesians at his side would have recognised it – and she had no idea what it meant. “Papa?” Her voice came out sounding very small, almost afraid.
Her first thought was that she must be in an awful lot of trouble, and perhaps her father could see that, for he spoke calmly and gently to her. “It’s not your fault, Catti. We’re not angry with you. But some things can’t be helped.”
The cryptic words confused her, and the gravity in his tone made her feel sick and scared. “What are you talking about, Father?” she asked, her eyes very wide.
Bryce Cousland sighed. “I’m sorry, love. I should have explained first, but... I just wanted you to know that we love you and that we’re not angry with you or afraid of you. The truth is that we can’t pretend anymore. You are a mage.”
If anything, Catriona’s eyes only widened further. “A mage...” She had read about mages and their dangerous powers, of course. And she’d always known that she wasn’t quite the same as Elissa, that she could do things her sister could not. But somehow she’d never thought to connect the two together.
“Yes. And you know that mages must go to the Circle to be trained in proper use of their powers, don’t you, Catti?”
She froze. Go to the Circle? Leave Highever? “Yes, Papa, I know that, but...” Her objections died in her throat as she noticed that there were tears in her father’s eyes. Tears. Bryce Cousland never cried. How could she make sense of this degree of emotion, or the words that came with it? How could anyone make the Teyrn of Highever do anything he didn’t want to do?
“You... you’re going to send me away.” Her voice trembled and she hated it.
Her father shook his head. “Catti, no, don’t look at it like that. The Templars–”
“They can’t take her!” This was from Elissa, who dropped her own wooden sword and came over to glare angrily at their father. “Tell the Templars to go away!” she cried, all spit and fire and twelve-year-old indignation. “Cat has to stay here! She belongs here. We need her!”
Catriona had never loved her sister more than she did at that moment, but she understood what Elissa did not. There was no way around it. Her father’s unshed tears showed that he was powerless, at least in this, and that realisation terrified her. But... if even her father couldn’t find an alternative, then it stood to reason that there wasn’t one. She would have to go to the Circle and be trained and maybe never see her family again – and all of a sudden there were tears in her eyes, too.
“It doesn’t work that way, pup.” Bryce Cousland sounded desperately tired as he rubbed his face with his hands and tried to reason with his older daughter. “You remember what the Chantry teaches about mages, yes? Catti has to go to the Circle so that the Templars can protect her, and so that she can learn how to use her Maker-given powers to serve man...”
“...and never to rule over him,” Catriona murmured, completing the familiar phrase, words she’d heard many times before but never really thought about at all. Mother Mallol’s sermons had dwelled on such sentiments fairly often in recent years, and it was only now that Catriona realised what that meant. She knew. She knew before I did, maybe even before Mama and Papa did.
Bryce nodded, a sad little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at his mage daughter. “Please don’t be too angry with us, Catti,” he said, and this was such a strange reversal of what Catriona thought of as normal family dynamics that she could do nothing other than stare at him.
Elissa exploded. “You can’t be serious, Papa! I know mages normally go to the Circle, but Catriona is a Cousland. She’ll stay in the castle and learn court manners and swordplay, and be presented to the King on her sixteenth birthday, and... and marry Thomas Howe so I don’t have to, and...”
“No, pup.” There was a terrible sadness in their father’s face and voice as he shattered Catriona’s future into pieces. The faint suggestion of a smile had disappeared, but the tears in his eyes remained.
“But you’re the Teyrn of Highever!” Elissa shouted, her chin jutting out in ugly defiance. As if she were more affected by this than Catriona herself. As if the laws didn’t – or shouldn’t – apply to them.
“This is Chantry law, pup... Lissa.” Bryce’s words echoed with bone deep tiredness and despair. “No man should set himself above the Maker.”
He looked at Catriona, seeming surprised that all of the outbursts had come from Elissa. But what was there to say? She was a mage, and she would have to go to the Circle – or else she might run mad and become demon-ridden, perhaps even slaughter her family while in the grip of evil and insanity. She didn’t want to leave them, but she’d heard and heeded the cautionary tales. It might be far, far worse if she stayed.
Of course, even knowing that couldn’t make her want to go. In a very small voice, carefully not looking at her father, she said, “I’m scared, Papa.”
Bryce Cousland pulled his youngest child into a sudden hug, holding her as tightly as he dared. “I know, Catti. And I’m so sorry. I hope... I hope you’ll be able to forgive me some day.” The tears still didn’t fall, but his voice was thick with them.
Catriona hugged him back, fiercely. She wanted to tell him that there was nothing to forgive, but somehow the words stuck in her throat and she couldn’t get them out. They welled up within her, the words and the pain and the fear, and then she was sobbing uncontrollably into her father’s chest.
He didn’t say anything, didn’t reproach her for crying or for making a mess of his good tunic; he just held her close and gently stroked her hair. It ought to have been comforting, but all Catriona could feel was the terrible loss that was soon to come. Mages didn’t have families. She clung tightly to her father and cried, unable to stop the tears from coming.
“Oh, no, darling.” Her mother’s soft voice carried across the courtyard, and Catriona gave a startled sniff and pulled her face out of her father’s tunic. Eleanor Cousland looked just as miserably grim as Bryce, watching the little tableau with a stony expression belied by her slightly trembling lower lip.
Seeing her daughter’s reddened eyes turned her way, she came over to join them, resting her hand softly on Catriona’s back, which only made the poor little girl start sobbing again. “We still love you; you know that, don’t you, Catriona? We always will.” She sounded as though she might burst into tears herself at any moment – though, of course, she managed not to.
“I know, Mama.” Just those words strained Catriona’s voice near to breaking. “I... there’s nothing we can do, is there?” She sniffed and wiped her streaming eyes on her sleeve.
“No, darling, there isn’t.” Hearing the truth said aloud still hurt, even though Catriona had already known it. She bit her lip to keep from crying even more, and made a brave attempt to smile at her mother. “The Templars will be here this evening, and then... well, it is for the best. Though I wish we could have waited until Fergus was home from Amaranthine.”
“You know that we didn’t have that luxury, Eleanor,” Bryce said, his voice quiet but resolved.
“This evening, Papa?” Catriona was shaking. How could this be? Why would they not tell her before now?
“I only spoke to the Revered Mother in Highever this morning, and she agreed to send an escort of Templars from the chantry there, so that you would not be among strangers.” Her father ran his fingers through her hair, soothingly. “I honestly didn’t expect her to be quite so quick to provide them. But perhaps it is better this way. At least you won’t spend days dreading their coming, Catti.”
He didn’t sound as if he believed that himself, but Catriona did not remark on it. They had to do what was right, not what would make them happy. “Yes, Papa,” was all she said, keeping her eyes downcast.
Elissa latched onto her arm. “We should make one of the servants pack for you, Cat, so you’ll have things at the Circle that will remind you of home.” Catriona nodded in a silent show of agreement, while her thoughts whispered that Castle Cousland was no longer her home, would never be her home again.
Bryce gave his daughters a weak, rather watery smile. “Don’t have them pack too much, pup. She still has to be able to carry the bag.”
“Just a few things, Father, I promise.” Elissa rolled her eyes.
Then she turned to her sister with a wicked little smile, and there was no point in objecting even if Catriona had been of a mind to. Elissa dragged her away to the family wing of the castle – picking up a rather distraught servant along the way – and once there embarked on her campaign of making sure her sister had everything she needed.
For her part, Catriona simply let Elissa do whatever she wanted. These were her last hours with her sister; she didn’t want to spoil them by having an argument. She wanted to remember this forever, and she wanted the memory to be perfect.
The time slipped away from them, as time is wont to do, and at the end of their spirited raiding of the family quarters, Catriona held a bag containing far more of her family’s little treasures than she would ever have thought to take on her own.
Elissa had even given her a favourite necklace, the one that Catriona was never, ever allowed to touch – and now, all of a sudden, it was fastened around her throat, and she was to take it with her away from the castle. To remember her sister by, apparently, as if she would ever be able to forget Elissa. Or Fergus. Or their parents. She never would have forgotten her family, whether she had a necklace to wear or not.
She didn’t even try to take it off or give it back, though.
When they made their way to the main gates, they found their parents, a supply cart... and a pair of Templars. Catriona saw them and was suddenly seized by the urge to run away, for all that she knew it would be pointless. Those faceless helmets scared her; she didn’t like not being able to see someone’s face when they spoke to her. And now she was going to have to get used to being surrounded by armoured Templars. That would be her life, her fate: to be watched all the time by eyes that she couldn’t see. A shiver passed down Catriona’s spine.
These Templars at least were very well-mannered. They bowed to her and called her ‘Lady Cousland’, as was her right for just a little while longer. Then, with great care and kindness, they handed her up into the supply cart and made sure that she was settled comfortably for the long journey. It wasn’t the sort of carriage to which she was accustomed, but she was going to have to get used to a lot of things being different from now on. Her new life was unlikely to be easy. She knew little about the Circle of Magi, but she’d heard enough to know that.
The cart rolled forwards, carrying them away from the castle. Catriona looked back at the castle, at her family. As soon as they were out of sight she would collapse into helpless tears, sobbing herself into exhaustion as the Templars looked on in concern. But for now she was still managing to master her pain and grief, and so she stared fixedly at them, trying desperately to commit everything to memory. To savour every moment she had left before a bend in the road stole them away from her.
She didn’t know it then, but it was the last time she would ever see any of them alive.