My fire will burn again.

OC inspiration blog for video game characters.

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 13: Andraste

"I think she would have hated having her statue here."

Nekane's father stopped walking and noticed she had done so as well, staring up at a statue of Andraste in the streets of Minrathous. He stood beside her and followed her gaze, shifting his cloak over himself more securely.

"Maybe. Or maybe it would bring her some pride to know Tevinter won't be able to forget her face."

Nekane huffed a weak laugh.

"Don't know about that. Feels like they're mocking her. Here she is after everything she did and...and what changed? Nothing. Tevinter is a little less big. That's it."

Her father placed an arm around her shoulders and drew her in. He was human, but that didn't matter. Whoever her parents had been, she'd likely never know. He was her family now and he was the first person to claim her out of love, not ownership.

"You're sixteen, everything looks bleak to you right now. You got more reason than most outside of Tevinter to feel like you do. But take it from me if it means anything Kaney, Andraste brought fear to the magisters. She started something and one day someone is going to lift her torch and continue the fight. It wasn't just hers." He paused, leaning down to place a kiss on her head. "It's all of ours."

Tears welled in Nekane's eyes. She took the hem of her oversized cloak and tried to covertly wipe away a stray tear. If he saw it then he pretended otherwise.

"And what if I want to fight? What if I want to save every slave and kill every slaver here?"

"Then I'd be the most proud father in the world. As long as you promise not to be a martyr. I love you, you're my daughter even if our ears don't match. But I'll be damned if I have to see you like this."

Together they looked again at Andraste cast in stone.

"As if they'd ever put a statue of an elf here." Gods now she was really fighting the tears. Her voice cracked like glass on every other word. She didn't like thinking about him looking at his child carved in memoriam.

Her father nudged her away and back onto the docktown streets.

"Don't underestimate fear, Kaney. This place will never forget you either."

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 12: Romance

Alecto knew so very much about love but almost nothing about romance. All the women in the books she read fell in love at her age, young and in the prime of their lives but old enough to understand romance.

Alecto sighed and positioned herself more comfortably against the wall. She knew the spirits were drawing from their vessel's bodies, their memories and their mimicry of mortal life. Even so she loved to watch them act in love. Maybe they were.

Maybe the lord who was all bone clasping the hand of his recently deceased wife had a love so grand that the spirits had felt it and then fell in love with each other by default.

That was so much more appealing than her books. Something eternal. Something undying.

He was a skeleton, not a scrap of flesh on him. Yet the spirit in the woman that body had once loved looked upon them like they were the most beautiful creature in the world. And oh, what if the spirit had waited for her? Toiling in the necropolis until they could be reunited?

No one ever felt that for her. Most of the Mourn Watchers had helped raise her and neither she nor they held any such sentiments. And Alecto went beyond the necropolis so little that if she had caught anyone's attention they never followed her back here to profess their love.

There was one man though...he had not attended to her as a child, far more busy with his scholarly pursuits. She had seen him a few times moving through the necropolis...

Alecto clutched her chest where her heart beat in quick succession. She would have to make the time to talk to him if he wasn't busy.

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 11: Harrowing

Azraeah could not focus on her teachings today. Her mind was too full, too anxious, to sit by and listen to her mentor school her in arcane traditions.

Despite being the only child under her care Azraeah raised her hand, something she was taught to do in a household full of brothers and sisters when she wanted to be heard. The older Rivaini woman cut short her lesson and inclined her head.

"Go ahead dear."

"When do I have to do a harrowing?"

The older woman crossed her arms. "A harrowing? Why do you think I'm teaching you? There won't be any need of one."

"But the southerners do them. Aren't all mages meant to?"

Azraeah's mentor noticed the fear in her eyes. Though the woman did not suffer nonsense she was the closest thing the girl had to a grandmother, so much so that Azraeah had begun to address her as such. That had made tutoring her more complex than it ought to have been. Azraeah was a troublemaker who needed discipline but she was also lost in the sea of other children. Forced to grow up too fast to help her parents tend to the household, acting out for attention. The woman had seen this and she knew when the young girl needed firm words versus when she needed maternal consoling.

She sat beside Azraeah and put her hand on her shoulder.

"We are not southerners. We do things our own way here. There is no need for a harrowing. I will show you all you need to know."

Those words soothed her, and in the coming years she would think of her mentor more than she did her own family.

We are not southerners.

But they came and destroyed our peace.

We do things our own way.

And they wanted to kill us for it.

I will show you all you need to know.

You did. And I will never forget your lessons grandmother.

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 10: Orlais

Today was Alecto's eleventh birthday. Or the anniversary of when the spirits found her as an infant. But it had to be close enough, right? Maybe a few days off but she was most certainly eleven now.

The spirits in their cadaver vessels sought gifts for her as they always did. Trinkets from their perspective tombs that they would give her to play with for the day. The Mourn Watch permitted it as long as she put them back, which she always did.

Eventually they'd gotten the idea to buy little novelties at the nearby shops of Nevarra and allow the spirits to gift them to her. Those she was always allowed to keep.

It was nearly night, or so she was told since she almost never left the necropolis, and nearly her bedtime. A skeleton stepped forward timidly towards her as the others moved to their tombs to mimic resting. Some rituals were sacred after all.

They leaned down and offered her a half mask, meant to go over her eyes, and Alecto realized she knew what it was from her studies.

"An Orlesian mask? For me?"

"Special, for you."

She hopped up, her nightgown swirling around her ankles, and took the mask. It was beautiful, pale and creme colored with little opal gems around the eyes. Alecto put it on and giggled.

"Oh my I feel like a queen. Would you care to dance?"

The spirit stood straight and offered their hand in response. Together they mirrored a timeless dance that never before existed until now. The spirit moved in time with her as she spun in circles and pranced about with glee.

When they finished a chorus of chattering teeth and bony claps filled the room, an applause from her adoring onlookers. Alecto bowed to her dance partner and placed a little kiss upon his skull.

"This was the best present ever."

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 9: Potions

Hrathen held his knee as the Mourn Watch attendant scurried about the den looking for a healing potion. Even at the young age of five he knew the man wouldn't find one here where they prepare the bodies for the necropolis. None of these bottles and jars held anything meant to heal living flesh but he didn't say anything. Hrathen just stared at the welling blood seeping from his cut.

The attendant was frantic, as if worried that by not healing the boy's trivial wound that the spirits who clung to Hrathen would become agitated that he was injured. They did scoop him up and carry him in their decaying arms to the attendant for help, but that wasn't terribly abnormal for them. They always acted like he was made of glass.

Finally a second Mourn Watcher came in dangling a healing potion in her hand, far less vexed than the former. The man snatched it from her and gently offered it to Hrathen.

"Drink this dear boy, the flavor may be unappetizing but it will bring the bleeding to a stop and close the wound."

Hrathen turned up his nose.

"Can't you pour it on the cut?"

"No, this is for drinking! It will have no effect if you spill it on your knee!"

The potion proved to be more than unappetizing, it was bitter and left a chalky feeling on his tongue.

He would have to be more careful going forward. He never wanted to taste another healing potion ever again.

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 8: Soverigns

"Here, please take this."

A coin purse was thrust into Nekane's hands. She looked down at it for a moment, it couldn't have more than a handful of sovereigns in it. She pushed it back at the newly freed slave as gently as she could.

"Keep it."

He shook his head, desperate to compensate her for saving him.

"Please my lady, I took it from the master but he's dead. No one will know it was from his coffers."

Nekane waved a hand dismissively.

"That's not why. Shadow Dragons don't do this for coin." She cleared her throat. "And I'm not your lady. Your master or your savior. We are the same." Her throat caught at the words. By the look of the elf it only just now occurred to him that she too was an elf, and so very few of them weren't slaves in Tevinter.

That's right, I got free too.

The man slipped the purse into his pocket and looked back at the ship about to set sail. It would take him and the rest of the slaves they'd found today somewhere very far away, the where was always unknown to her. Nekane didn't need to know, it was enough that they'd live.

"Now hurry up. If you're feeling generous share it with the others on the boat."

He nodded and hurried off after three more thank you's and a stiff hug. As she watched him go Nekane wondered if she had ever freed her parents. They could have been any one of them, their hair gray and their features too haggard from all they'd endured to recognizable.

She looks for them every time without a name to go on. In her heart she liked to believe she had. But without proof it allowed her to be more determined to free everyone she could...just in case.

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 7: Dragon

Alecto had made the sudden discovery that she wished to see a dragon. Dead or alive, inhabited by a spirit or not. Could creatures that were not of mortal persuasion be a vessel for a spirit? That she did not know, and it made her more eager to find out.

Nevarra people loved their dragon hunting, that much she did know. The Pentaghast line had lead them to near extinction until this most recent age. Their resurgence was a question for another time.

She spun on her heels and approached a spirit who's physical form wore profoundly ornate armor standing alone among the necropolis.

"My friend, may I inquire you with a most pressing question?"

"Yes" they rattled, jawbone and teeth chattering as if they were cold.

"Where might I find a dragon?"

The spirit leaned a little closer so that the grin of their skull made it seem as if they were smiling themselves. They put a hand to their armor.

"A dragon is among us, sweet child."

For a moment Alecto stood perplexed. Was the spirit playing a game with her? No, this particular one was not one to do so. Riddles and tricky speech, yes. But they would never lie and claim to be a dragon.

At her confusion the spirit wrapped a bony hand around hers and placed it upon the breastplate of their armor.

"Dragon bone."

Ah, not how she wished to see a dragon but it would do for now. Alecto leaned in, her frail fingers memorizing every blunt edge and hairline fracture of the armor.

"Splendid my friend. Absolutely splendid."

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 6: Carta

Azraeah did not think she would survive her first year as a lord of fortune. Not at this rate anyways. Sure she had managed to get her hands on the shiny gold relic, but that was only because she had snatched it as it was changing hands. Literally, it was being handed to the noble when she ran by and yanked it right out of the seller's hand.

Unfortunately that seller had been a well armed carta member with a few friends watching from the shadows. Now she was running for her life with eight dwarves on her tail shooting crossbow bolts.

No matter which alleyway she ducked into she couldn't lose them.

"Hate to do this but-" Azraeah whirls around and stops, raising her free hand into the air and clutching the relic tight in the other. She finally gets a good look at the carta dwarves chasing her. "-I think you boys are being a little too clingy."

A fire spout erupts in front of the carta members catching their surprise just long enough for Azraeah to dart out of the alleyway and dive into a pile of garbage.

She listens with a mixture of glee and disgust as her followers run right past her foul hiding spot. The moment their footfalls fade into the distance she emerges from the garbage, knocking half eaten food off her shoulder.

She holds the relic in front of her and sighs as she looks at it.

"I think you and I are going to take a dip in the ocean before heading back." She would much rather her peers think she had to make a getaway by water.

Maybe she might survive this first year after all.

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 5: Bards

A blade cut across Louvaen's shoulder but she ignored the pain as she dove forward. She gave the other woman a matching wound, unfortunately for the bard she was not wearing armor when the Crow had encountered her. The Orlesian fabric split where the blade had met leaving a thin red line on her clavicle.

"You are vengeful little crow."

Louvaen grinned subtly. Yeah, she was. Eye for an eye and all that. You scar me, I scar you. But the wound in her target would never get the chance to heal.

For show Louvaen sheathed her dagger but kept her feet poised to dodge.

"And you are going to die."

The bard kept coming, slashing her blade with practiced talent. Had she herself been born in Orlais instead of Antiva, Louvaen could have seen herself becoming a bard. Though she had no love for playing a role, temporary or long term, she had to admit they had a lot in common with the Antivan Crows.

After a minute the bard's movements became sluggish, uncoordinated, as Louvaen dodged her attempts at cutting her.

"What...what have you done to me?"

Louvaen wasn't a fan of poison like Viago was, though in situations like this it came in handy. As a mage she preferred her own set of skills to get the job done. However she also wanted to be in and out before Empress Celene realized a member of her court had been assassinated.

The bard toppled to the floor and shuddered, whispering low threats she would never make good on. When her target stilled Louvaen counted to twenty five like Viago told her to before leaning down and reaching for a ring on the woman's limp right hand.

"That should satisfy the contract." Her gaze fell on the bard. Typically she liked wicked marks, ones who truly deserved a dagger in the back. Not someone who was a so similar to herself.

Crow. Bard. They both played a game that ended in deception.

Louvaen turned to the open window and slipped back into the night. She knew sleep would not come easy tonight.

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 4: Deep Roads

"I don't know about this."

Really, he didn't. Raoden had seen one darkspawn in his life and vowed to never cross paths with one again. Maybe it was the latent Qun teachings in his blood but he didn't trust anything he deemed unnatural.

His companion, a dwarf and fellow lord of fortune, shrugged.

"Funny to see a fella your size afraid of anything."

Raoden winced.

"It is the deep roads. You know, the place where darkspawn and old Gods are. Size means nothing if you're ambushed."

"I've seen you down a troll single handedly."

"That's...that's different and you know it."

Typically Raoden would love a trip to a long forgotten place with the promise of treasure, they always held something valuable that the world had forgotten. But the deep roads was an unnatural place. Living underground was unnatural, but he'd never say that out loud. Not only would that offend his surface dwarf friend, but his fellow guild mates would never let him live down having severe claustrophobia.

"You sure Mateo has the right of it? What if Qunari are still looking for this library?"

"Then you'll convince them you're one of them and distract them while I get the goods."

Raoden snorted. As if he'd let him have all the glory.

Fine, deep roads it is. He could handle a few darkspawn. Surely the nightmares wouldn't last forever.

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 3: Vhenadahl

Therica had every right to be apprehensive about entering a human city, yet she felt some guilt for it. There were humans among the Veil Jumpers, each of them having changed her Dalish beliefs as to what they were like. Not always shemlen, not always cruel. However Strife had schooled her well to remain on guard when traveling near or through human dominated settlements.

Not all humans were as kind as her friends.

Though she was not alone Therica kept her rapt attention on the subtle tap of her bow upon her shoulder blade in case she needed to grab it in haste.

She watched the people move around her, some taking note of her existence and others never sparing her a glance.

"Are you Dalish?"

Had the voice not been youthful, curious and sweet, she would have reached for an arrow.

Therica looked down and saw an elven child in a dirty dress, her hair tied back so that the ears she had not yet grown into accentuated her face.

She took a knee before the child and nodded.

"Indeed I am da'len."

"Dah...len?"

An ache formed in her chest.

"It means little one in our tongue."

The girl nodded, secreting away a piece of their language to herself. Therica hoped she shared it with others.

"Those markings you have, I've heard Dalish have them. When do you get them? Do they hurt?"

She smiled and nodded.

"They are what we call vallaslin. They are meant to show reverence to the Gods. They hurt when you get them but once they heal, no more pain."

That wasn't entirely true. Therica had felt pain when she learned the Dread Wolf's truth and saw proof of his words in Arlathan ruins. Despite being free she and her people had marked themselves as slaves. Therica still struggled to attribute her vallaslin to her people rather than their original intent. But day by day she inched closer to it.

"We have something special too in the alienage. Can I show you?"

She had never wanted to see one of these places Strife had told her about, but at least she would be among her own people.

The child took her hand and led her away. Therica steeled herself for it. There was no disconnection between elves in her mind, whether they lived off the land or in a city. Had vallaslin or never believed in the Evanuris. But to see the squalor they lived in was a reminder how humans could be.

Not like her friends.

The girl took her to a tree at the center. Tall and proud with painted bark, small offerings and a few more elven children sitting beneath it as they played.

Therica raised a hand, then hesitated.

"May I touch it?"

The child nodded.

The wood beneath her fingertips felt strong, healthy. Loved. She blinked away tears threatening her composure and smiled.

"It is beautiful."

"You can visit the vhenadahl any time da'len!"

Therica chuckled as it had been a while since anyone had called her that. But the sentiment of this child as all elven children were, disconnected from their past, wished to carry something of theirs forward.

Of the city or of the Dales. The elves would fight to remember. And perhaps the vhenadahl was one of many ways they did.

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 2: Armor

Hrathen entered the tomb as a low moan beckoned him. The dead were strange but then, so was he. How was it he could understand their sounds by pitch and rattle and know which of his friends had called to him? Or by the sound what it was they wanted?

His gaze fell upon a newly dead denizen of the necropolis. Flesh still intact, brown eyes gazing numbly in his direction. Hrathen considered the spirit inhabiting the body might be concerned with their new state of existence, sometimes it took a little longer for them to become grounded outside of the fade.

He did not flinch as the figure approached with a hand outstretched. Hrathen reached back and let the spirit brush his skin with uncoordinated intent.

Slowly, as if learning how to maneuver their rigor joints and muscles, the hand encircled his wrist and weakly pulled. He let the spirit lead him to the open coffin the body had been placed in and his attention was brought to something lying within.

"Ah, his armor. Strange that he was not buried in it."

The spirit considered this but remained silent.

"People like to be laid to rest with their valuables. It is a common practice, but a wasteful one. Someone living could benefit. But you'd be surprised how many of the others spirits feel a connection to their bodies and who they were. You should wear it if it suits you."

The spirit tightened their grip and with their other hand pointed at Hrathen, then the armor.

"You wish for me to have it?" He chuckled, patting their shoulder. "A kind gesture my friend, I thank you. But it would be impolite for me to take such a thing."

Even so he gently removed himself from the spirit's hold and lifted the breastplate up between them, examining the markings. Hrathen then affixed it to the spirit's form and took a step back to appraise them.

"It belongs to you."

Hrathen had become accustomed to the spirits favoring him, he knew the stories of how they'd been attached to him since they'd found him here in the necropolis as an infant. Still it always surprised him when the dead, even the freshly inhabited bodies, were drawn to gain his favor in return.

Even so he had meant what he said to the spirit. They were his friend, all of them were. One day though he would leave them nothing but his earthly body. A home for a new spirit. Would they treat that spirit differently as they treated him?

He hoped so. For what it was worth. The dead saw something about him that he nor the Mourn Watch did. However Hrathen feared he wouldn't live long enough to ever know what that something was.

[aethyra]

Dragon Age Prompt

Day 1: Joining

Her hand did not tremble over the chalice as the ones before her had. Knowing what they knew now Minny could not blame any of them for their fear. Thirty years at best before you are called to the Deep Roads to die. A life of servitude fighting creatures beyond comprehension that could very likely see to it that you never heard the calling at all. Some of them had families, some of them had wanted valor without understanding they would have to sacrifice everything to achieve it.

Minny had lost her purpose when her father died. Her only purpose now was to eradicate as many darkspawn as she could before it killed her so that no little dwarven girl in Orzammar would have to lose their father as she had. That's all there was left. No family. No dreams of being in the mining caste. No more naming brontos after her favorite Paragons.

The blood flowed past her lips, burning her tongue and throat as she swallowed. Minny felt the rush of vertigo almost immediately. She couldn't recall releasing the chalice but could hear the faint ring of it clattering to the floor beside her as her head swam in circles.

Darkness clouded her vision, the ground beneath giving way. But she didn't fall, she flew. Like a griffon or a bird with wind rushing beneath her newly formed wings.

It was as pitch now as it had been that day, but Minny was not alone.

Are you proud of me Papa?

[aethyra]

[aethyra]

Thess, Dess and genderbent!Dess

[aethyra]

D&D Daughters

[zoya-nazyalenskys-archive]

Is anyone out there? If you can hear me you need to get to the front line. More Nilfgaardians are coming to the woods. We can’t give up. We can still fight.