Chapter Text
Pale gold daylight broke through the narrow windows of the Ostwick Circle tower and spilled across the aged stone walls, illuminating the crowded dormitory and its occupants. As if on cue, most the sleeping crowd rolled over to ignore the sun's call to rise for at least a few more minutes. In a cluttered corner of the room, a heavy trunk lid clunked loudly against its base causing some groans from nearby sleepers.
Kit Trevelyan had just finished packing the last of her relatively few material possessions. She felt a twinge at the realisation her whole life could be summed up in a simple knapsack; a few robes and underthings, a couple of her favorite books stolen from the library, her mother's prayer beads, and an old letter from a dear friend. She hadn’t asked but she felt she already knew her staff would be taken from her; she left it on her bed.
Kit took care to close the heavy door to the dormitory quietly and no sooner had it thudded shut, a Templar lieutenant jangled up to her.
"Lady Enchanter Trevelyan," Such formality made Kit's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Not since she entered the Circle had her title ever been used. The Templar continued, "Your escorts have arrived. I am to present you to them."
Kit nodded and heaved her bag up onto her shoulder. There weren't any specific rules against it, but it was commonly understood that the mages didn't speak often to their keepers.
"Allow me, my lady." The man in full armor reached for the bag, and pulled it over his back. With his free hand, he motioned towards the stairs at the end of the hall.
"...Thank you." This was ridiculous. Not even two days ago Kit had tripped in the library, her arms releasing a heavy stack of books, and watched them clatter every which way while the nearest Templar laughed. She had felt his gaze on her as she collected them. And now she gets some preferential treatment? Absolutely ridiculous.
With the Templar at her side, she descended the wide staircase and headed through the winding halls to the Great Hall. She didn't realize she had been almost jogging the whole way. She couldn't deny she was eager to say the least. At last the foreboding doors of the Circle tower entrance came into view.
The doors' metal engravings depicted simplistic birds around an ornate sun which was split in the middle by the seam where the double doors come together. A younger Kit found it cruel and mocking.
"Mother, this place is cold." A young girl held fast to a woman's bulky skirts. Tears welled and dribbled down her cheeks. She can't understand why her mother won't look at her. A tall man with metal for a face took her arm, the armor dug into her skin. "No!"
The First Enchanter smiled but her eyes were sad. She knelt before the girl. "It will be like home here, Katherine. You can wear the prettiest robes, if you like."
"I want to go to my real home." Kit sniffled and wrenched herself out of the Templar's grasp to look back at her mother. The stone-faced woman patted her once on her crown of gold curls. Kit took her hand with pleading eyes. "I want to go home."
Lady Trevelyan pressed something into her small hands and told her to "be a good girl" before turning sharply and proceeding through the metal doors. Young Kit looked at the prayer beads in her hand and thought they felt colder than the tower.
Despite her noble heritage, the circles of the Free Marches saw equal treatment for their mages. As such, the last time Kit Trevelyan was outside the circle grounds was the day she had to leave home. She thought of the beads in her pack and felt sick. Kit was shaken from her thoughts as the First Enchanter approached.
"You're such a bright girl." The elderly woman placed her hands down on Kit's shoulders. "The Ostwick Circle will miss you greatly. I expect you to do your best in Orlais, child."
Orlais. Kit had excelled in her scholarly pursuits and managed to impress a visitor who was also a distant family member--there were so many, she couldn't even tell which side of the family he came from. Count LeClair had offered to be her patron and transfer her to the White Spire in Val Royeaux. His eyes glinted behind his gaudy silver mask with a light she didn't appreciate. She knew about, and was eager for, the looser hold of the Spire on its mages however. If all went well, Kit would probably be invited to a gala at best, paraded as a party trick at worst. Anything was better than the Marches.
The Knight-Commander sniffed. "The day is about to begin and I have duties elsewhere, First Enchanter. May we proceed?" Kit never spent more than a minute in the same room with the man, but she could tell he was straight-laced to a fault.
"Indeed. Enchanter Katherine, may I present to you your escort to Val Royeaux? This is Lady Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast. She will be leading the company of Templars who will oversee your journey."
The woman who had been standing so still Kit mistook her for a statue at once came to life. Her rigid posture deflated at the honorific.
"There is no need to address me as Lady, First Enchanter. I am a Seeker of Truth before anything else." Amber eyes edged in kohl flickered over to the young enchanter.
"Enchanter Katherine, I am here to escort you to the White Spire in the capitol of Orlais. I presume your family sent word ahead of time?"
Kit merely nodded as her eyes scanned the face of this woman, from her set jaw to the deep scar across her cheek, then back to those eyes. The knight-commander shifted.
"You will speak when spoken to, enchanter. You are being addressed by the Right Hand of the Divine--show some manners."
"I-I apologize, my lady," Kit managed to stammer. Her eyebrows were raised in surprise and instinctively went to smooth the front of her robes to improve her presentation. "I did not know."
The Seeker waved a hand in dismissal. "Pay it no mind. Your house has had a loyal standing with the Chantry for generations. The Divine wished to repay some of that loyalty by sending me to accompany your transfer."
"I see. I'm sure House Trevelyan appreciates the gesture." The statement was not lost on the warrior whose eyes narrowed. A silence befell those assembled in the Hall.
"It is time we proceeded on our journey. Your things have been collected?" Cassandra glanced at the Templar beside the mage.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Oh. I expected more luggage. If you're ready, we will leave in a moment." The Seeker turned back to the small company of Templars by the doors. Slowly the grand doors croaked open and early morning light flooded Kit's vision. A breeze stroked her cheek and the air caught in her throat.
The company fell into line--four soldiers marched ahead, two behind, and the Lady Seeker just a step ahead--and waded into the golden morning. Kit had already said her goodbyes, there was nothing left for her here, and yet tears streamed down her face. She smiled into the light of the sun and if anyone noticed, nothing was said. Her journey had begun.