Prologue
Southernmost ruins. The edge of the Kocari Wilds, Ostagar. King’s Encampment, 9:29 Month 5 - Bloomingtide of the Dragon Age.
King Cailan Theirin searched the camp, found who he was looking for, just about to enter the tent of his General. “Ser Kal’an?”
A tall, raven-haired man stopped, bowed to greet his King: “Yes, Your Majesty?”
“A word?” The King waved the guards away to speak to his best friend: “I need a favor of you. You are the only one I can trust. I need you to scout the Wilds.”
Inconspicuous glances around the large tent, several guards were all within earshot. Stepping away towards the back of the large tent from prying ears and eyes. Before breaking protocol, as he spoke in hushed tones, dropped formality to his longest friend, “Cailan, what of the reports? The General feels this is not a Blight.”
“Loghain always feels that way, Kal. Please, for me. We have been friends for so long. And if this is not a real Blight, all the better.”
Kal’an nodded in agreement. “Alright, I will take with me a few men. The fewer the better, I do not need the Teyrn to breathe down my neck any more than he already does. He would box both our ears. You owe me.”
The King laughed heartily, clasped his friend’s shoulder with a wide smile on his face: “Do I not always?”
He snorted, “No.” Kal’an laughed, smirk brazen on his lip as he glanced over his shoulder, thus producing Cailan to laugh even louder.
Month 4 - Cloudreach, 9:30 of the Dragon Age.
Deedolett “Olett” Surana grew up in the Library Tower known as Kinloch Hold. Found in the library with her nose in a book after book for hours on end. Her favorite is the King’s Mage or the Savior of Ferelden, Lady Deedolit Meleth Swiftleaf, who was rumored to not be of Ferelden or anywhere on Thedas.
Olett, sent from her home, stepped into the world that her Heroine once set foot upon. Being sent to an area south in the Hinterlands — Ostagar — to the ruined fortress that once belonged to the Mages of the Tevinter Empire.
Long since abandoned, now the location for the start, and end of the Fifth Blight, under the lead of their Beloved King, Cailan, son of the previous King Maric, lost to them just a few years prior.
When she Reached Ostagar with the Grey Warden named Duncan, she met briefly with the King, who welcomed her with open arms: “Ho there, friend, and what might your name be?”
Deedolett curtsied, Cailan stopped her, wishing her to not stand formality. She stood tall: “I am Deedolett Surana of Kinloch Hold.”
Her name took Cailan back, and beauty found that a million thoughts ran through his head: “Deedo? That is my Godmother’s name. From the Circle, did you not come with the others from the Circle?”
“No, your Majesty, there was an unforeseen incident...” She closed her eyes, remembering they forced her to leave the confines of the Mage Circle of Ferelden.
Cailan looked her over. She favored his beloved Godmother — but glad someone shared her name. Looking in her hands pointed to the book she had. Olett held up the book for him to see. She had been clasping to since she left Kinloch many nights ago.
“How did you get this? I do not have this one in my collection. My Godmother, I wish she were here. We could use her power.”
Deedo perked up, nodded, and the young girl felt a little more at ease. “I adore this book. It is my favorite. I wish to be like Lady Deedo.” Her smile caused Cailan to join her, along with the others that surrounded them.
Cailan led her away from where they gathered. “Duncan, I have her. Well, Lady Deedo, let me welcome you just the same. Come, there is someone I wish you to meet.”
The Hero of River Dane. The Teyrn of Gwaren, Loghain Mac Tir, appeared from his tent, annoyed by the reports. They had seemed to be nothing more than only constant skirmishes. Certain that this was not what his best friend’s son claimed. That would mean Maric would truly have vanished from this world.
Grateful for the reprieve, he rubbed his tired eyes. Soon the blessed silence of his thoughts interrupted: “Loghain! I was just coming to visit you. I would like to introduce you to someone.”
Not yet ready to face the young man, nor minding to look up as he rubbed his temples: “Who, Your Majesty?”
Cailan chirped. The sudden noise sounded less like a King for Loghain’s taste: “Why, Lady Deedo.”
Loghain’s hands dropped to his sides. His head snapped to face his son-in-law. With... Lady Deedo? The space near Cailan clearly missed someone. His eyes settled on the Elven woman before him, taken aback, her face familiar. “Deedo?”
Cailan grinned as Olett curtsied. “Deedolett Surana, My Lord.” Bold her words, so certain of herself.
Thoughts flooded in warm waves. He shook away his thoughts with a sharp nod of his raven head of welcome.
A clearing of her throat, “I would like to know. You were there for my namesake... Can you tell me about her?”
Loghain shook his head no, but his mouth disagreed. “Yes.”
Olett once more presented her book, ‘The Light of Ferelden.’ To the General. From then on she did everything she could to hear of the free mage, who the Chantry never dubbed an apostate.
