Dragon Age: The Ferelden Chronicles

Chapter One

It was a fairly warm day in western Ferelden, given the time of year. A chilly autumn breeze occasionally blew through the changing leaves on the trees, serving as a reminder to those who ventured outside to enjoy the sun as the coming winter was just around the corner. Children ran about the small town while their mothers bartered for the supplies they would need in the months to come, while others sang and danced and drank in celebration of the bountiful harvest the Maker had seen fit to bestow upon them.

A few people continued to work the fields of the local farmstead despite it being so late in the season. There were pumpkins and other squashes to be harvested before the first frost threatened to claim them, after all. Most of the workers were human, but a few elves had been passing through looking for work and the farmer who owned the land was more than happy to have the extra hands - even if it did bother some of the more closed-minded residents of the town. They warned him that elves were savages and were likely to kill him and his wife in their sleep before making off with everything of value in his home. It was all hogwash, as far as he was concerned. In all his years, he had never met an elf who had been anything less than hard-working and respectful.

The farmer turned his gaze from those working his land and focused instead on the child who had been traveling with the elves who had stopped in the village. She was four, maybe five years old, with wide grey eyes and blonde hair that shimmered red when the sunlight hit it just right. She was small for her age, even for an elf, but her mother was a seamstress and had altered her clothes to better fit her tiny form. The other children in the village had refused to play with her - they had even gone so far as to call her names and throw pebbles at her - and so she had taken up a spot in a pile of hay near the plot of land where her father was working, playing with a patchwork bear that had seen better days.

"It's all right, Mister Cuddles," the girl told the bear in her tiny voice, moving its arms about as she spoke in the comforting way a mother would to a child. "Those mean boys and girls aren't going to hurt us any more. Papa said we can stay here for now, and tomorrow we'll help Mother with the mending and washing."

"Varia!"

The girl heard her mother calling her name and her head turned to look for her, pigtails flying about her face as she frantically whipped her head from side to side. She knew she had heard her name being called, but she couldn't see her mother anywhere.

"Varia!" the voice called again, only this time it didn't sound quite like her mother. She clutched her toy bear close to her chest and began making her way toward the farmhouse, where she knew her mother was helping the farmer's wife bake pies. After a few steps a hand came down onto her left shoulder and gave her a gentle shake.

"Varia? Come, child, wake up."

Varia Surana opened her eyes to find her mentor, First Enchanter Irving of the Ferelden Circle of Magi, seated on the side of her bed. She blinked a few times, looking around to find the other apprentices still asleep in their beds, then returned her attention to the man she had looked up to for the better part of her life.

"First Enchanter? What is it?" she asked, sitting up in her bed. "Is something wrong?"