Chapter 3

The morning at Lake Calenhad was stunning and any feeling of tiredness was stolen away by the chilly air. Elia clutched her cloak tightly around her as she made her way out of the inn and to her horse, which was drinking from the lake. She whistled for him and it shook the cold from its head before making its way to her. Elia patted the horse’s neck, then retrieved a brush from a saddlebag and proceeded to brush him. A morning ritual they both delighted in.

            Two men emerged from the inn and looked over Elia and her horse. They rushed to a small boat on the docks and headed to the Tower. Elia’s steed snorted, the beast was as smart as it was beautiful. Both had known nothing good would follow them if they lingered, Elia was left with the decision to leave Moirric or make him go with her. Luckily, the men were barely halfway to the Tower when Moirric decided to make an appearance in front of the inn.

            Elia went over to him with her horse. “We have to leave now. Are you coming too?”

            Moirric noticed the men paddling feverishly across the lake and looked down at Elia as she waited for his answer. Her hazel-brown eyes were tinged with worry and eagerness to leave the Calenhad Docks far behind them. “I’ll go with you.”

            Elia mounted the stallion and held her hand to Moirric. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?” She asked as Moirric clumsily mounted the horse behind her.

            He shook his head and she could feel his uneasiness.

            “Hold on tight.” She wrapped his arms around her waist. “He’s going to take us very far, very fast.”

            Elia made a clicking noise and the horse began to jog forward. Once up the nearby hill, she made the noise again and the horse began to run. Moirric noted that every time she made the noise the horse would run faster until it was in a dead run, carrying them further and further from the Lake. After some time, Elia slowed the steed’s pace and patted its neck. She pulled a scroll from a saddle bag and opened it, showing the contents to Moirric, who had to look over her shoulder to see what she pointed to him.

            “We should be roughly around here.” She pointed to a spot on the map called The Bannorn. “It’ll take us a few days, but if we cut across here and get onto the road just above South Reach we should be able to make it to Denerim safely.”

            “Where was it that you were supposed to return me to?” Moirric asked quietly.

            “Here.” she pointed to a location called Amaranthine. “We could’ve taken this road around The Bannorn, but it takes us passed West Hill and Amaranthine. Chances are there would be patrols or stops looking for me, so I thought it would be safer to avoid them and that road for now.”

            Moirric stayed quiet.

            “I’m not going to take you back there. You can trust me.” Elia looked back at him. His aquamarine eyes bore into her trying to assess if she was telling the truth. It was easy to believe her before, but now when she brought him close to freedom he became skeptical.

            “Who is your master?” Moirric looked down as Elia faced forward.

            “I don’t have a master.”

            “Then who sent you to steal me?”

            Elia thought for a moment. “I guess the closest thing I have to a master is an employer, but it’s still worlds apart.” She took Moirric’s silence for confusion. “No one can tell me what to do until we enter into a contract. I work for them, stealing what they can’t get their hands on, in exchange for money. At any time I can cancel the contract and leave, but I won’t get paid.”

            “While you’re under contract they can do anything to you?”

            “Not at all. They contract me to steal, no more no less.” Elia smiled to herself. Was he worried the same thing had happened to her?

            The pair continued in relative silence, Moirric every now and then asking trivial questions about her work and general life. Normally, she wouldn’t answer any questions, come to think of it; she wouldn’t have been traveling with him if they had met under any other circumstances. He knew nothing of being a free man and Elia would take it upon herself to at least show him enough to keep him out of trouble.

            Elia carefully navigated The Bannorn, taking precautions to avoid any arlings and noble lands they may come across. They would have to restock at some point, Elia didn’t have many rations left, she didn’t plan on having company after her job was done. Her horse was also tired and running low on supplies. Soon they would either have to hunt or risk going into a town. She prayed they didn’t have to do the latter.

            The sun had begun to fall toward the horizon as Elia searched for an area to set up camp. The Bannorn didn’t provide much cover or protection from its inhabitants, leaving Elia the only option to take to a hill in hopes of seeing an intruder before they approached. She had to help Moirric dismount, his uneasiness with the horse was still very clear, she would have to help him learn to ride.

            The sky was streaked with hues of orange, yellow, blue and purple as the sun let the moon take its position. Moirric had once again set up and started a fire as Elia went for the rations. For years she had believed that having a companion would only be a burden; another mouth to feed, another back to watch, and another person to split the money with. Now, she had felt a sense of security and comfort she had never known before. Moirric elected again to take the first watch.

            “Tell me about your past, Moirric.” Elia sat by the fire and began eating.

            Moirric studied her. Elia’s hair was a reddish brown and stopped short of reaching her shoulders. Bangs cut across her face and occasionally dropped down in front of her left eye. Her skin softly glowed in the fire light and her eyes were the most brilliant eyes he had ever seen. Elia seemed to be so relaxed around him, something he was not accustomed to, and many of his masters were tense around him and took days to loosen up while he was around.

            “What is it you want to know?” His voice plain as ever.

            “I don’t know, how about your earliest memories?” Elia watched as his eyes became entranced by the fire’s dance.

            “My memory is clouded to anything prior to my entering the Tevinter Imperium. My master had sold me to a man named Danarius, at this time I was no older than 11. He had many slaves and was a man of power in Tevinter. Once he bought me, he and several others began their experiments on me.” Moirric paused and Elia struggled to contain her anger and sorrow. “These experiments continued for 10 more years until my new abilities shown. Master Danarius had made me able to control spirits and less powerful demons.

            “Once I had finally given him what he wanted, he told me about myself. He said I was an orphan and I was sold because it was easier to sell off a problem than to fix it. According to him, my previous master didn’t understand the power I could have and had referred to me as a medium. He had thought this is what brought success to his latest experiment. After he paraded me around to the others I was stolen and taken by that new master into Orlais. My time with them was short-lived as I was sold to Master Olivia.

            “She was kinder than the others, but, as I said before found other ways of using me.” His voice trailed off. He glanced at Elia who watched him with sadness on her face and looked back at the fire. “Although she was kind, she still made me feel like an object to be used. I had stayed with her in Orlais for 5 years until Master Franderel had a bard steal me. I have been here in Ferelden for almost a year and now you have stolen me.” His cool gaze washed over her and she felt heat rise to her cheeks. “What of your past?”

            Elia smiled and looked down. “At the beginning of the Blight, I was abandoned at a Chantry in a town called Lothering. I was so stubborn; whenever someone would try to take me away I would cry and flail at them, so for a while, I stayed crying at the steps of the chantry believing my parents would come back for me. The Revered Mother had sent a Templar to retrieve me, but he was met by the same stubborn little girl. Instead of leaving, he held me closely and carried me away. He was the closest thing I had to a father for the next month as we fled to Denerim.

            “I stayed in the Chantry since then, but had to leave a few years later due to ‘irreconcilable differences’. So I began to build my reputation as an incredibly skilled thief and had an astounding amount of work. The nobles of Ferelden love stealing from each other as well as planting incriminating evidence.” Elia smiled and shook her head. “But that’s me in a nut shell.”

            “What became of the Templar?” Moirric’s eyes gave off more heat than the fire.

            “He was sent away. I had always said I would find him and properly thank him for being such a great friend to me,” her expression darkened, “but I must have forgotten as I worked.”

            “I don’t believe it’s too late to start searching for him.” Moirric felt the urge to hold her, this woman he had barely known, had such an effect on him. He never wanted to see her eyes cloud with sadness again. Even though he wanted to comfort her, she already seemed to be guarding herself.

            “Maybe I’ll look into it when we are there. If I find something worth following would you come with me?”

            “I don’t know of another place I’d want to go.” Elia’s smile warmed him. That was an image he’d burn into his mind and hold dear. They finished their rations and she fell asleep as they continued to talk.

            Moirric could feel the cold bite in the air and rose to take Elia into her tent. As he lifted her, he noticed how soft she was against him and how she cradled into his chest. He lingered for a moment, taking in this new experience. He wanted to hold her this way forever, to feel her small body and warmth beside him always. Moirric looked down at the serenity on her face and wondered if he’d ever be able to feel like that.

            He took her into the tent and was setting her down, but lost his footing and nearly fell on her. His face was inches from hers and he could feel the slow rhythm of her breath. A heat washed over him and he instantly wanted her. Moirric didn’t care to understand what was overcoming him and instantly submitted to the feeling. He leaned down eager to connect his lips to hers, but she shifted breaking him from his trance and he sat back. Moirric’s sense returned to him as he left the tent and was grateful for the coldness of the air.