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Dragon Age: When The Phoenix Flies

Evelyn is a renown Knight-Enchanter, nicknamed "The Phoenix" for her magical prowess and mutation. Having worked alongside Templars for the last decade, she has more opportunities than most mages have in their lifetime locked away in the Circle of Magi. After the events at Kirkwall, her Circle falls to the chaos of the Mage Rebellion. Rumor has it that she was it's cause, but is it true? When The Divine invites her to speak at the Conclave, she is eager to help, but has no idea what is in store for her. Fueled by trauma and duty, she finds a kindred spirit in Cullen, the newly appointed Commander of The Divine's forces, who reaches out to help them both out of their own darkness. The more they they share, the more it seems the Maker weaves the threads of their fate together, tighter and tighter. Ghosts from the past, forced red lyrium consumption, powerful magic, battles, grievous wounds, family reunions, beautiful friendships, humor, and heartfelt moments await Evelyn & Cullen. This is a slow burn romance of Evelyn & Cullen, picking up later with courtship and navigating through love's trials through a crisis. The world of Thedas and its characters belong to Bioware.

Munklington · 游戏衍生
分數不夠
60 Chs

Chapter 2: Behind A Closed Door

"Ilara, pack a bag with only the essentials. Hurry." The two began frantically packing as screams permeated through their door. "Pack clothes, shoes, a blanket and you better bring your herbs." Ilara was more panicked than she let on, not able to make a sound just nodding as Evelyn told her what to pack. Evelyn knew Ilara would be completely dependent on her for protection. She was just a healer and truth be told Evelyn wasn't even sure she knew any defensive magic. Unsure of what was awaiting them outside their door, she started to mentally prepare herself to fight her way out of the tower. Just as they finished and Evelyn began putting on her armor, the door was suddenly kicked in and three blood-splattered templars barged their way inside.

"Shut the door, we don't want to be interrupted. It looks like the ladies were preparing for us." It took a lot to frighten Evelyn, but that familiar voice she knew all too well froze the blood in her veins. Shaking from the rush of adrenaline, the rational portion of her brain took stock of her surroundings: Ilara was on the other side of the bed near the dressing table; Evelyn's staff still lay beneath the bed; there was a dagger in her boot and another under her pillow; and, of course, the enemy stood across the room from the women blocking their only escape. As she began channeling her magic, Ser Aeron removed his helmet. "As promised there's one here for you boys to share. She won't put up a fight. The Phoenix here is mine." Shear horror crossed Ilara's face. The only thing she could do was fall on her shaking knees to pray to the absent Maker.

"Ilara, get up!" She was frozen, in shock possibly. Evelyn quickly dove over the bed, putting herself between the men and her friend. She grabbed Ilara pulling her up to her feet. "Hey, you need to do as I say. The Maker won't help us here." Not able to wait for a response, she turned back to the three men who were closing in on them.

"No, he won't. When we're done with you two whores you'll be praying to us for more!" The men's sinister laughs only made Ilara shudder harder and pray faster. Aeron's eyes were fixed on his prey, but so were Evelyn's fiery eyes. Part of her wanted this fight to crush the life out of him for the past weeks of torture, but there was a rational voice urging caution -- she was one mage against three Templars. She needed to first get Ilara out of danger.

"I can't tell you how long I've dreamt of this moment. The moment when I kick your shit in." She tried to sound as dangerous as possible while slowly creeping the two of them back toward the bed. The men had moved into the center of the room and if she could just get Ilara over the bed she could escape. "I have to admit though, I'm surprised you'd think you'd need your two lackeys here to help you. I suppose I can understand though, even when I wasn't fighting back I was too much for you to handle." Aeron's smile was gone. Evelyn knew where the cracks in his vanity lay.

Aeron wasn't anybody in the tower. He had no authority, no shining reputation and he wasn't even that great of a fighter, but he had friends. He was a smooth talker who could probably talk an Archdemon into ending the Blight. He talked his way out of every precarious situation he found himself in and was always able to miraculously produce a witness or two to confirm his stories. Evelyn had first come into his crosshairs after he'd first approached her while on the road to apprehend an apostate with the offer to share a tent for the night. She refused which led to a heated altercation between the two, ending with Aeron walking away with a black eye. The next day while on their way back to the Circle, Aeron stewed for hours no doubt planning the perfect retribution for the embarrassment he suffered at her hands. Evelyn, unaware of Aeron's dark seeded growing contempt for her, reported the incident to the First Enchanter, who in turn told the Knight-Commander. It wasn't long before both Aeron and Evelyn were brought before them to testify to the accusations.

As usual, Aeron produced a Corporal who claimed they were on guard duty at the time of the incident and that Aeron's black eye was received while apprehending the apostate. Evelyn, neither meek nor intimidated by the appearance of a witness, called his bluff by directing their attention to their Lieutenant's report. Having worked with the Lieutenant before, she knew him to keep immaculate daily reports on missions and lo and behold, he had indeed noted who was on and off duty at the time. He even noted that she had come to him with a complaint, but having been too busy writing the blessed report, told her they'd address it later. Having trumped his Corporal with a Lieutenant, the matter was considered closed and Aeron was dealt a hefty punishment. For the foreseeable future, he was no longer allowed out of the tower. She made him a prisoner, like a mage, and he'd never forget nor forgive that.

The years that followed consisted of him stalking her. At first, it was subtle and she had convinced herself it was her imagination, but she never believed in coincidences. More and more she'd catch him out of the corner of her eye then he'd disappear. He'd always be where she'd least expect him too. It was harder to detect him when his helmet was on, unable to tell one Templar from the other. It was as if he was playing psychological warfare with her to the point where she became slightly paranoid. Usually, she could count on him surprising her a few times a week pretending to be helpful all the while making sure she knew he was there; helping her reach a book in the library, chiming in on her conversation as she strode through the hall and he'd even stand outside her bedroom door. She knew one day it would come to something like this.

"Oh they aren't here for you, I can take care of you on my own. By the way, your hair looks beautiful. So kind of you to wear it down for me." She smirked at him and self-consciously pushed her hair over her shoulder at his compliment. He eyed the two nightgowns strewn across the floor, picking them up daintily with a finger. "Why don't you put this back on. Your friend too." He tossed them so the gowns landed at Evelyn's feet. Picking them up she pushed one into Ilara's hands. Evelyn turned her back to the men, but her head remained locked on them so as not to miss a move. Seemingly back from her panic attack, Ilara finally joined her in their present hell.

"We aren't actually going to…"

"When I say "run" bolt for the door and don't stop." Her voice was barely audible as she tried not to move her mouth. The men looked none the wiser and she raised her voice so they could hear as she told Ilara to put on the nightgown. Aeron seemed pleased, but not completely convinced by the act as he still held his weapon out. And rightfully so if he knew her at all from the years of stalking. Needing a distraction, Evelyn slowly began to slide her shirt off the shoulder she was looking over, which garnered some gawking from the three men.

With a sudden push, Evelyn flipped Ilara over the bed. She landed on her feet as Evelyn yelled at her to run. Caught unaware, as she hoped, the men were slow to react and she sent up a wall of flame at their feet cutting Ilara off from them. Ilara had gotten away. With her away, the Phoenix brought forth the warmth of her mana. With a deep breath, the fire inside glowed radiating from the center of her chest. Every breath that followed stoked the fire like a bellow in a forge. The glow raced up through her veins igniting in her eyes. The men froze in awe as wings of fire shot out from her back in a sudden burst of light then slowly dissipated into nothingness. Not unaware that she was up against three Templars, she grabbed the dagger that was under her pillow.

Acting fast, the men used their power to subdue her mana as much as they could. Thankfully, none of them were experienced or talented Templars, for if so she would have been at their mercy. If she could just take one of them out she could cast a few spells. The room wasn't all that big to begin with, making separating the men to engage them in melee difficult. Aeron had ordered the men to hold waiting on her to make the first move. He didn't seem impressed by her weapon of choice and rested his blade against the side of his hip as he took off his gloves. The others began to remove their helmets and discard their shields seeing their obvious advantage over her.

"So your plan is to take us on with one dagger? Somehow I expected," he gave a pause with a wave of his hand searching for the right word, "… more."

"Be careful what you wish for." A quick flick of her wrist landed the blade in the throat of the man behind Aeron who was in the middle of removing his helmet. Hot blood splattered forth from the deep wound. Not wasting the opening she dropped to the floor grabbing her staff which had been under the bed. Attempting to get back on her feet, she was stopped short by a sword aimed at her head. Deflecting it, she used the momentum and leverage of the staff to jump to her feet. She heard the men mumbling curses between their clenched teeth.

The three engaged in an eloquent melee of moves and countermoves around the small room. All the while, Evelyn tried to get a spell off but failed as they dispelled each attempt. Their longswords swung with ferocity even taking out one of the four bed posts. Quickly she shoved Aeron into the tangled mess of sheets and bed curtains. He struggled, but the more he did the more he became trapped like a fish in a net. With Aeron occupied, she could focus her attention on the other Templar who had come to wear an expression of impending doom having his comrade out of the fight. He reeked of fear which embolden her to try her magic once more.

Flames shot forth engulfing the Templar, who cried out to the Maker to douse the fire that was consuming him. Evelyn felt no remorse for the man who came here with the intention to rape her and her best friend. How dare he, she thought, how dare he abandon his duty, to hate mages for something they never asked for and think for an instant that he was justified. She couldn't let it pass and drew from her mana even deeper until the man's screams trailed off into silence - a short-lived silence.

A heavy blow landed directly on her head wound from earlier. She hit the floor immediately unmoving and numb. She couldn't feel her limbs, but they moved. The only sound she heard was a ringing in her ears and a muffled voice, though not her own. She stared in a daze as she was jerked - no not her, her clothing. Shadows of two figures danced on the wall in front of her - a puppet and its master. The voice became louder as it said her name and slapped her face, wanting her full attention. It wasn't until a sharp pain ripped through her thigh that the world came crashing back to her.

Straining her head up to look, she saw Aeron above her reading himself between her legs. Her pants were crumpled next to her and the dagger that was in her boot was buried deep in her thigh. She felt a warm sensation about her throbbing forehead while she tried to think of a way out of this.

"Ah, good you're finally lucid. Wouldn't want you to miss our big night."

"Fuck you!" She roared and thrashed any and all working appendages at him. She was strong, but he was ready for it as he flopped on top of her. His armor was proving to be too heavy for her to move. Grabbing her wrists at either side, she kicked with her one good leg to no avail. She could feel him hard up against her as he leaned into her.

"Whoa now, let's not rush the foreplay." His face was close, and her heavy breathing was exciting him more and more - she could see it by the intensity in his eyes. She stilled herself, wondering what he'd do - wondering if he'd give her any ground. "You know, I'm a very patient man. I've waited for this for years. I just knew one day you'd finally get what you deserved."

"You're insane and small!" She gritted her teeth hoping he'd catch the double meaning. He did but smiled crookedly at her.

"Well now, I think we can both see that's not the case." He grabbed her chin aggressively and the suddenness of it made her gasp. "I tried to be nice, but if you're Fade-bent on fighting me I can make this very unpleasant." It was a stern warning, one she would not heed, could not heed.

"I'd rather die!" She spat in his face. He recoiled and retaliated with a fist to the gut, knocking the wind from her. A dark rage crossed over his features, and though she didn't want to admit it to herself, it scared her. He was deranged or possessed by his hatred and sick love of her.

"You filthy bitch! You are a mage, the lowest form of life in all this world! You are lower than dirt and your kind should burn like Andraste for their sins! I offered you a chance at redemption, to cleanse you in my righteousness and you spit in my face!" He was screaming at her even though he had brought his face close to her again. He continued in his raving against her and mages but had let her hand free as he gripped her face. Feeling the lyrium radiating off him she knew magic was not an option - but the blade in her leg was.

Pulling the dagger out caused her to buckle under him, but she bit her tongue so she wouldn't cry out to alert him. The sudden wave of her body against him reminded him of the task at hand and he cleared his throat to settle himself. He had all his armor on still and had nowhere to plant the blade. She needed him to give her an opening, she'd never muster enough force to get the dagger through his armor with how close they were.

"Would you shut up and get on with it!"

"Haven't you been listening to what I've said about patience?"

Yes, that's right patience, I'll make you choke on your patience. Seemingly to read her thoughts, he backhanded her hard to the side. It was just the momentum she needed as his weight lifted off her upper body and she rebounded off the floor to drive the dagger in his side not once, but twice. His blood sprayed onto her neck when she reconnected the second time. He didn't utter a word or make a sound as his lips moved angrily as he slumped to the floor. Panting with the effort of having killed three Templars, she sat for a moment to collect herself. It was over.

With no Templars to prevent her from using her magic, she used a basic healing spell on her leg to relieve the pain until she got some actual help. She'd need to find Ilara. She hoped she either got out or found Sorin. He was on one of the floors below them, so there was a good chance they'd run into each other. Maker's breath, why is this happening? The tower continued to rumble as more screams and the sound of running filled the hall. She was used to the sound of men dying in battle, but there was a distinct difference between fighting and dying and lambs waiting to be slaughtered. She knew she'd never be able to forget that difference.

After a few minutes, a noise from behind her broke her concentration. A shiver ran down her spine as an armored hand of a Templar grabbed her shoulder. With her leg numb for the time being, she jumped up and immediately hit them with an immolate spell. Caught off guard, the Templar wailed in agony throwing his helm to the side as the flames overcame him.

"Maker, no…," her voice trailed off at the cold realization of what she'd done. Unable to stop the inferno, within the next few moments Knight-Commander Tobias lay dead on the floor in front of her. Her mind raced to try to understand what had happened. Why wouldn't he have said something? Why did I not check who it was? What was he doing here? Dread, guilt and grief pulled her back down to the ground beside his charred remains. She felt the blood drain from her face at the shock of what she did.

"Evie! Thank the Maker!" Ilara burst through the doorway with Sorin in tow. "I found Sorin, I couldn't leave you to them."

"Seems she didn't leave much of them." He said as he looked from body to body. Ilara was already hovering over her pressing hands to her injuries. Sorin walked slowly over to Aeron's body kicking it over. "Ilara told me what he planned to do. He didn't…"

"No, he didn't," she said soberly.

"Maker is that the… the Knight-Commander?!" Ilara stopped to look at her friend who was startled at the mention of his name. Tears began welling in her eyes as she searched for the words to explain.

"I didn't mean to! He just… and I didn't… I only saw his hand… I thought…"

"Shhhh, it's alright. It was an accident. Nobody can blame you after what happened." She could. Knight-Commander Tobias was nothing but kind and fair to her. He must have seen her sitting half naked on the floor of her room surrounded by dead bodies and come to check on her. And she slayed him. "Come let's get you dressed, we still need to get out of here."

Sorin didn't seem at all fazed by her lack of clothing. They were plutonic friends, neither having a brother-sister relationship nor were they romantically attracted to each other. The Knight-Enchanters had a bond forged in battle and out on the road. She knew he always had her back and she his. Whatever they got themselves into they were the rock on which they could rely to see them through. Evelyn enjoyed his stoic nature on the road, making her always feel safe. Unlike Ilara, he was more detached from emotion, though nothing like a Tranquil, he still had plenty of deep emotion he just never let it bubble to the surface. It was calming in the thick of things, like this, and he could pull her out of her own head to keep her going.

"There's nothing we can do for him now E. We need to move." She gave herself a mental shake to refocus. She knew now wasn't the time to reflect on Tobias' death, there'd be time later enough should they get out of here.

"What's the situation out there?"

"About as bad as you can imagine," Sorin said peeking out into the hall as he talked, "Abominations, blood magic and crazed Templars. I heard that the last of the loyal Templars and mages are hold up in the first floor. That's where we should go."

"Are we giving up on searching for survivors on the upper floors?"

"I don't think there could be any from what we've seen. We can save who we can on the way down." She nodded her consent to his plan and the three left the room for the final time. If it was as bad as he said, their priority should be to get themselves to safety, as much as she wanted to help the others. Evelyn shut the door behind her hoping their ghosts would not follow.

Greetings all,

As you DAI fans know, there is no Ryker, Ilara, or Sorin in the game. I wanted to introduce two new characters who knew our future Inquisitor before the Conclave to shake things up later on, which I'm looking forward to!

Thanks for reading!

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