Dragon Age: Phoenix Origins

The letter is written on thick, crisp parchment with clean, precise handwriting that never wavers. The script is small and neat, with no wasted space, and each line is measured. There are no flourishes or doodles—just text, efficient and to the point.
Evelyn,
I received your last letter. Ferelden sounds as dreary as expected.
Things here are the same. The Circle continues to be... manageable. Nothing new to report.
I'm sure your training will be intense, but I expect you'll do well. Just don't lose focus. The Knight-Enchanter path is challenging, but you've always had a way of pushing through.
Write when you can.
Sorin
P.S. Henley insists I include a joke. Here: Why are necromancers always so muscular? Because of all the deadlifting they do...
Don't ask.
***
Dragon 9:25 - Evelyn
While her first day was spent exploring her new home beside her bunkmate, early on the second day she was slated to meet with her new instructor – Knight-Enchanter Croft. Hurrying to the training grounds, she slowed her walk watching the different groups of Templars run drills around the yard.
Thinking she'd see the obvious signs of offensive magic being cast about to clue her in on where she needed to be, but she saw nothing. "Excuse me, ser" she caught the attention of the guard at the door, "could you direct me to where Knight-Enchanter Croft holds his training sessions?"
His helmet muffled his deep voice, "That's him there with the white hair." She followed his finger to a man standing with his back to them with grayish-white hair pulled up in a short ponytail. The sides of his head were shaved short, and from her angle, she could see the end of a puckered scar reaching to above his ear.
Evelyn quickly made her way over, not wanting to be late for her first meeting with her infamous instructor. "Knight-Enchanter, ser?" The man looked up from the board of parchment he was reviewing with a grumpy frown. "I'm Novice Evelyn Trevelyan, ser. It's a pleasure."
He dropped the board to his side, narrowing his eyes on her, "That remains to be seen. I've read quite several glowing reports about you from my colleagues in Ostwick." His jaw moved side to side in thought, and she tried her best not to balk at his rudeness. "Stand up straight, Trevelyan," he barked, "let's take the measure of you." He circled her like a vulture bending slightly and looking her over with one brow raised. He fired off questions such as what was her age, weight, and best school of magic, among other inquiries. After a few more rounds, he stood back in front of her clasping his hands behind his back and lowering his voice, "Have you bled yet?" Shocked by his candidness, she stuttered incoherently, making him roll his eyes with an impatient huff, "I'm not asking for your whole medical history, girl, it's a yes or no question."
"N-n-no, not yet."
"Good, that means you're not done growing. You have tall and sturdy kin, I hope? Normally I wouldn't ask but you're not Ferelden."
"Y-yes ser. My father and brothers all stand around six-foot and thus far I tend to lean more towards my father's likeness."
He grunted, "I hope so. A small and delicate Knight-Enchanter does nothing to inspire soldiers on the field of battle. There is no such thing as a petite Knight-Enchanter, be they male or female."
Just then a tall young man with chocolate locks jogged over wearing practice armor. His hair was swept around his charming features, including sky-blue eyes and a pronounced chin. His broad shoulders narrowed to a tight set of hips, showing of his fit physique. She couldn't say for sure, but at a glance, he was perhaps two or three years older than her based on the pronounced stubble dotting his jawline. "Knight-Enchanter, apologies for my lateness, but there was a--" He stopped and flashed his judgmental eyes at her, "Who's this?"
"This, Apprentice Abraxas, is Novice Trevelyan. She wishes to become a Knight-Enchanter. She came highly recommended to me by an old friend in Ostwick."
"A girl?" The two sneered down at her.
"I'm in the process of determining if she has what it takes to train with us or if I should send her packing." The youngest mage couldn't help the defiance rising in her, feeling her mana pulse to life as she stared back at Croft. "She's got a fire in her eyes, I'll give her that. You know how to fight, girl? I don't think they would've taught you that growing up in your fancy noble house, Miss Priss?" At the news, she was a noble, Abraxas spit at her feet.
"My brothers taught me how to use a sword and I would sneak away from my mother to watch their lessons with the swordmaster. I wanted to be a Templar more so than any other future they had planned for me."
Croft stepped back as if in feigned shock raising his eyebrows, which caused the scar dashed across his eye to elongate down his face. "Well, then let's see what you've got. Knight-Lieutenant Arlo!" She turned around to see the person he was addressing was the Templar in the middle of training their recruits.
"Yes, Knight-Enchanter?" The man's heavy Ferelden intonation was rustic but was one of a brassy tenor. When he turned, Evelyn could make out a heavily broken and blunted nose on the man that matched his heavy cheekbone structure. The man's sandy hair leaned towards the darker end of the spectrum, cropped short and mussed by the harsh Ferelden wind.
"You got any boys who are barely grasping the concept of swordplay? I need a challenge here for my new recruit." They shared a coy smirk.
"Ha! Zeke! Get your arse over there! The rest of you lot, take a break!" A boy of at least eleven scampered over and she looked from him to Croft with disgust.
Evelyn huffed, "With all due respect, ser, this boy is much younger than I."
He leaned close growling, handing her a wooden sword, he stole off a nearby recruit. "Then prove me wrong, girl."
She grabbed it from him with a lethal look and turned taking a few steps to square up to her opponent. The boy raised his sword with two hands in front, whilst she stood tall greeting him with an opening flourish, bringing the sword to her face before sweeping it to the ground. Then she proceeded to turn sideways, getting in the starting stance with her right hand holding the sword out while the left rested on her hip.
"Seems we have a duelist in our midst, boys!" Arlo laughed, though Croft crossed his arms seemingly now taking her a bit more seriously. "Begin!" Almost instantly, she disarmed the boy, tossing his weapon to the side with a flick of her sword. There was a thoughtful pause, before Croft simply shouted 'next' and the Knight-Lieutenant shoved a larger recruit over at her. He was slightly harder to defeat, but she did so, along with the boy after that. "I'll admit, she's no beginner, Gavril. The only boys I have left are more advanced than what she's shown us so far." Arlo motioned over to a group of boys all at least a head taller than her. Within the mix, she spied the blonde boy who had been there when she first arrived yesterday, what was his name...
"I think it'd be best if we humble her, give her your best from this lot," Croft's eyes darkened. "Let's see if she takes defeat as well as she does victory?" She balked slightly at his words, knowing that she had not gloated once!
Arlo tilted his head as if hesitant to comply, "Rutherford!" The name jogged her memory as he stepped forward, "She's got no armor, so watch the strength of your hits." The boy wore a serious expression, nodding to his instructor before setting his golden eyes on her.
Croft shook his head, "No, don't hold back, Master Rutherford." Evelyn chewed the inside of her cheek allowing their words to affect her nerves. They expected her to give up, they wanted her to so they'd have a reason to get rid of her. They thought she'd be defeated so easily, already writing the match off as a loss for her. The pyromancer's veins began to pulse with fire at the thought for she did not leave her life in Ostwick behind just to be sent back with her tail between her legs.
The recruit's stance was solid and grounded, unlike hers which favored agility. He had the advantage of watching her go several rounds, but if he was being trained as the others she supposed she could expect something similar; his hits would be harder, being so tall and his experience having been training with the sword longer than she presumably would cause a greater challenge. Rutherford brought his shield up, resting his blade on the top. All she could see were his hardened amber eyes, and if she hadn't known better, she would've thought he was an intimidating statue.
When the call to begin rang out, his still form suddenly charged her with such speed, that she barely danced out of the way. Setting her feet, she tried a feint to the side, but his buckler blocked it. He was hardly giving her any room to work, and as she spun to dodge a shield bash, a stiff thwack hit her square in the back. She straightened stiffly trying to walk it off, before bringing herself to face him again. Still bony and thin, she had very little natural padding to protect herself. The strike stung, lingering on her flesh as a reminder not to turn her back on him again. The two instructors shared a look, but let them continue. Renewing the duel, she made the mistake of trying to overpower him, which was quickly rewarded by being thrown roughly into the dirt at sword point.
"Give her one last chance, Rutherford," Arlo somewhat scolded at the quick and decisive round.
Her eyes glanced at those around her as they laughed and shook their heads at her pathetic attempt. The fire inside didn't abate though, and even though in the back of her mind the words of the Trevelyan motto echoed there, she let her rage out from its guarded cage. The young mage gripped the sword with two hands now to handle Rutherford's strength and planted her feet in defense. His eyes squinted at her seeing the change, as a snarl perked up the corner of her lip slightly. Taking the initiative, she flew forward in a flurry of quick attacks, battering his shield. Evelyn tried to step around him and feint again, but it was no use. In a desperate attempt just to get one hit on him, she slid as she was in his buckler's blind spot, popping up on his dominant side. Surprised, he slashed sideways, opening himself up. Ducking from the swing, she grabbed his breastplate and headbutted him.
What seemed like a good idea in her head, turned against her as they both staggered back. While he shook it off still on his feet, Evelyn fell flat on her bottom in a daze, hissing at the pain. Opening one eye, she found herself at the point of his sword again, accepting defeat with a heavy sigh.
"Ho, ho, she's got spirit Gavril! Gotta give 'er that." Arlo chuckled, "Well fought, Master Rutherford." The boy squinted in some discomfort, rubbing his forehead and looking at her as if she was touched in the head. The Knight-Lieutenant clapped the boy on the shoulder and the whole gaggle of recruits went back to their training leaving the mages to themselves.
"Didn't think that last move through, did you, girl?" Croft held out his hand as he helped her up. "You fight politely enough, but you won't be fighting duels of honor. Try that on a blood mage and they slit your throat from ear to ear." His tone suddenly darkened, lowering his face to hers, "You'll be fighting maleficar who aren't afraid to break every commandment set forth by the Maker to corrupt the innocent. They will summon demons so vile, that they make even the most seasoned Templar shit their breeches. They will not simply seek to kill you, but steal your soul for their dark twisted purposes." His eyes burned with intensity. He paused to give her time to conjure the images in her mind, "Is this still the path for you?"
She swallowed hard, steeling her voice for a controlled response, "Yes, Knight-Enchanter, it is." He could try and scare her all he wanted to, but what he didn't know was that she had little choice. She'd either be thrown to the demons or severed from the Fade.
Abraxas scoffed, "Not many Knight-Enchanters are women."
"But the ones who are, are exceptional," Croft quirked an eyebrow at her as if seeing the potential. Sighing heavily, "Arlo was right, there's a fire in you. It may take some coaxing, but by Malefrath's sword, I'll rip it out of you." Her brow knitted together realizing her first few years in Ostwick were spent doing the opposite. "Every morning you are expected to attend physical training with the other Templar recruits. You've already met one of your instructors for those sessions, Knight-Lieutenant Arlo. I will inform him that you will be joining him from now on. They start promptly at sunrise, don't be late. Just because you're a noble of the fairer sex doesn't mean you will get treated any differently from the other recruits. Brax will act as your student mentor and help you adjust to our vigorous training schedule," the Apprentice let out an annoyed huff. "Don't be ashamed to quit at any time, this path is not for everyone and very few mages ever hold the coveted rank. Brax is correct though, not many of us are females, it's just the way of things."
"I won't be quitting, ser." Though there was conviction in her words, he gave a look of disbelief.
"Then I look forward to you proving me wrong, Trevelyan."