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Sunny Adaar has always loved dragonflies. When she was a child, as-yet-unnamed, travelling hither and thither with her Tal-Vashoth merchant parents, dragonflies were her constant companion. They were there in Rivain, swarming up from still waters after heavy rain; in Antiva, she would see them perched on spindly branches and high-up leaves, lying in wait to strike an errant horsefly at just the right moment. When they arrived in the Free Marches, they buzzed around the lush fields along the Minanter River, and from Ansburg to Wycome, Sunny would chase them. They would hover so still, technicolor wings a blur as she jumped to catch them — but somehow, they would always zip away, effortless and fast and free. She was chasing dragonflies when her parents finally offered her a name that didn’t mean “child”. They told her later that when she played in the fields chasing dragonflies, she would jump as if she were trying to reach the sun.
She loved that story. It was silly, but in the privacy of her own whimsy, she liked to think her name was a gift, bestowed by the dragonflies she loved so much.
When she was ten years old, fire sprang from the palm of her hand in the heat of an argument. Her parents’ faces contorted in fear and worry, and she didn’t see many dragonflies after that.
Sunny would never blame her parents for sending her away; they knew nothing of demons or fade-dreams, so they could not teach her, and they couldn’t risk Templars locking her away in a Circle — they fought too hard for her freedom to risk it like that. It was fortunate the Valo Kas had a mage who could teach her, and that they were willing to care for her only on the promise that she would fight when she was old enough. She was lucky, and she knew it, but the Valo Kas were never her family — they were brash and loud where she was timid and quiet, preferring the company of books to that of people — and in all the places they traveled, all the missions she led, there wasn’t time for dragonflies.
She could never have guessed where she would end up, truly. Conclaves and inquisitions and impossible decisions — she was not built for this, she was only twenty! But in all of the chaos, all the death, destruction and tragedy, she found things worth having, things worth fighting for. Solas and Cole were as good as family, and her dear, silly Sera… She did not choose this life, but despite everything, she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
She stood now outside the fortress that, until now, held Inquisitor Ameridan and the Hakkonite dragon frozen in time, the old elf’s words still ringing in her ears — “Take moments of happiness where you can. The world will take the rest.” The Hakkonite dragon flew through the sky above them, letting out a fierce roar as it made its great escape. Her companions gaped at the majestic and terrifying sight, but Sunny barely noticed, her attention stolen away by a dragon of a different kind — the familiar buzz of a dragonfly, wings a colorful blur in the moonlight as it zipped through the ruins.
Sunny smiled privately to herself. No, she wouldn’t trade this life for anything.