Dragon Age: Semper ad Meliora

Act I: Endless Possibilities

Act I: Dum Spiro Spero

And His Word became all that might be:
Dream and idea, hope and fear,
Endless possibilities.
- Canticle of Threnodies 5:1

Vyrantium, Tevinter Imperium, 9:27 Dragon

The first time Idhren set foot outside his master's estate he was thirteen years old, and he was to be granted freedom. Freedom was something that Idhren had never contemplated before, at least not seriously. He had been born a slave, and until a handful of days ago he had fully expected to live the rest of his life that way. That fact had never bothered him at all. In fact, Idhren thought that he was incredibly lucky. His master was not cruel; did not harm his slaves without reason, ensured that they were fed every day, and even allowed them a half-day of rest every week. Certainly, Idhren could have been born into the service of someone much worse.

And of course Idhren had magic.

Four years ago, at the age of nine, his gift had made itself known. He had been playing with his elder brother, Sahren, in the dirt yard outside the slaves' quarters. Four years older, Sahren's longer legs were always able to outrun Idhren's, which made games of tag terribly frustrating. Especially when Sahren kept taunting him, letting Idhren get just close enough before dashing out of his reach again. In one last desperate attempt to catch his brother, Idhren leaped forward to tackle him, missed spectacularly, but found that somehow one of Sahren's feet had been frozen to the ground.

The ice melted quickly in the oppressive Tevinter heat, but not fast enough to escape notice. That very day Idhren was removed from his family and herded into his master's great estate. He was not so young that he did not realize what he had done. In Tevinter, everyone wanted to be a mage. Mothers prayed that their children would be gifted with magic. Anyone would consider Idhren lucky, but at the age of nine, standing in the great hall of his master's gilded mansion for the first time in his life, being prodded and questioned by the human servants, Idhren did not feel lucky. He felt scared.

Idhren never returned to the little dirt and plaster hovel that his family lived in after that day. He was sent to live with the house slaves, he was given new chores, and he was ordered to spend five hours each day being tutored in magic by another slave.

Alvinius was also a mage. For twenty-five years he had served as the master's assistant in matters that required magical knowledge. But he was getting old now, dark hair going grey at the temples. (Lucky, most slaves do not live long enough to see themselves grow old.) He was a good teacher, patient but strict. He taught Idhren to read and write and to control the power at his fingertips.

In four scant years Idhren surpassed the skill and power of his instructor. That was the first time he met his master.

He was tall, or so he seemed to Idhren at the time as the young elven slave stood ramrod straight in the library, barely over five feet tall and impossibly thin. In contrast, Magister Linus Canidius absolutely dwarfed the young elf in height, width, and magnificence. But Idhren's eyes were fixed on the tips of his boots, dark polished leather and glistening golden buckles burnished to such a sheen Idhren could almost see his reflection in them.

"So this is the little apprentice I have heard so much about," the magister's voice was not harsh, but it was not gentle either. He sounded amused, if anything. "You are a wisp of a thing, aren't you?" he asked, and Idhren wasn't certain whether he was meant to respond. He had never spoken to a magister before, and had no idea how to address someone so high above his own station. "Come here; let me take a look at you." A hand on his chin and Idhren's head was lifted up, not harsh, but not gentle either. For the briefest of moments Idhren's eyes met the magister's, a deep brown betraying no emotion, and then he quickly looked elsewhere, fearing reprisal for even an accidental act of insolence. "Pretty little thing, too. Look at those eyes. Violet is such a rare color it's a wonder you weren't snatched out of the slave quarters earlier. There are people who would pay good money for this face."