A worn diary excerpt


    O Maker, I find myself in the depths of despair once more, and it is to You alone that I can pour out my soul. Today has been another day of solitude and fear, an existence I have come to know too well. My magic mutation made me an outcast, shunned by those who should be my brothers and sisters in the Circle. ''"Bloody Miri," they hiss, their words dripping with contempt. The Templars watch me with wary eyes, ever ready to strike should I show the slightest sign of corruption. Why, O Maker, why have You willed it so? What lesson am I to learn from this?


    The loneliness gnaws at me, a relentless, hollow ache. In the quiet of my chambers, I beg You, Maker, to send me friends, companions who might understand my plight and share in my burdens. I crave connection, the simple joy of a shared smile, or a comforting word. Yet, such solace remains out of reach, as elusive as the dawn in the darkest of nights.


    Still, I hold on to my faith. I believe that You have a plan for me, even if I cannot see it....


    <hr>


    Dragon 9:25


    Evelyn


    Satinalia was almost upon them, heralded in by the festive decor decking the halls of the Tower. Evelyn was looking forward to finally spending the holiday at the Trevelyan estate, her father having talked down her shrew of a mother into letting her join them. It had been four years since she had been home or seen any of her family. Her father and brothers wrote regularly, but she had not once heard from the other females of the family. With something to excitedly look forward to for once, along with the break from her studies, her stomach was jittery all day and night in anticipation.


    From what she heard, Knights were fighting over the privilege of becoming her Sentinel while out of the Circle. A Sentinel was a Templar guardian for a particular mage. Whether they were a serious troublemaker or, like Evelyn, one traveling outside of the Circle, knowing they would be in for a lavish holiday at the Bann''s sprawling estate, it had become a heated battle of favors and brown-nosing. Yet, for all the bribes and deals being made, it was Knight-Captain Tobias who pulled rank and took the opportunity. When he had informed Evelyn of the decision, she couldn''t help but mimic his cheeky grin, knowing he had just pulled the rug out from the Knights'' feet to spend Santinalia in luxury. In her opinion, no one deserved it more after the kindness he showed to her and every new mage.


    Two days before her father came to rescue her for a few days, a strange memo was passed to her at the midday meal. Sorin looked up expectantly waiting for an explanation, "What is it?"


    Drawing in trembling breaths, she couldn''t bring her eyes to move off the parchment, "I... I''m being transferred."


    "Transferred? What do you mean?"


    "They want to send me to Ferelden to Kinloch Tower to train under a... Knight-Enchanter Gavril Croft."


    "When?!"


    "It says... in two days." The two shared a look of foreboding doom. Since they had been locked up together in the Circle''s cells, they had been as thick as thieves. Henley even took a liking to Sorin despite their huge personality differences.


    "What''s with the grim faces?" Henley''s sudden arrival stirred more butterflies in her stomach. With a frown, she handed him the letter. His dark mahogany eyes flicked down to the parchment in his hand reading it over. The new dark stubble on his face helped deepen the intensity of his displeasure the more he read. "Seriously, Evie?!" He threw the paper down on the table and threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "What the fuck am I supposed to do without you?! I''m not sure if you know, but you''re kind of my best friend, besides Sparky here." Sorin rolled his eyes.


    "I don''t like any more than either of you, but... if I don''t there''s no place for me here – for someone like me. I have to go."


    The silence that followed felt heavy. Sorin picked at his sleeve, his expression unreadable, though his tension was evident. Henley, however, was never one to hold his emotions back. He leaned against the table with a huff, his voice lower now, almost pleading, "You really think there''s nothing for you here? With us?"


    Evelyn bit her lip, glancing between the two. She knew Henley''s question wasn''t just about training or finding a place in the Circle. It was about their friendship, their bond, something that had grown deeper than she could have ever anticipated. But she also knew her path was leading her away from this place, whether she liked it or not.


    "It''s not that I don''t care about you two," Evelyn said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the crack threatening to break through. "But I can''t stay. If I do, I''ll just be another mage stuck here, waiting for... for whatever scraps they throw my way. Or worse, decide I''m too dangerous to keep my mana. This is a real opportunity, a way to be more."


    "More than us?" Sorin''s question was blunt, though not without a hint of sadness. It wasn''t meant to sting, but it did. She could tell from his tone that it wasn''t jealousy, but fear — fear of her growing beyond their little world, of her leaving them behind.


    "No," she said softly, her heart aching at the thought. "Not more than you. Just... more than what they allow us to be."


    Henley scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I still think this is bullshit. You''re not some Knight-Eenchanter type. You''re our Evie. The one who burns the pants off people when they annoy us."


    Despite herself, Evelyn laughed, the tension easing just slightly. "I''m not going to stop that just because I''m in Ferelden, you know."


    Henley grinned at that, but it faded quickly, replaced by a frown of frustration. "I just... I can''t believe you''re leaving."


    "Things don''t always work out the way we want them to." Evelyn could feel her throat tightening as she spoke. Since she had come into her magic people had been patronizing her with the phrase so it felt odd to use it herself. "But I need you two to promise me something."


    Sorin raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. Henley leaned forward, his arms crossed over his chest. "What?" he asked, his voice gruff but curious.


    "I need you to be okay. Both of you. I can''t be worrying about you while I''m trying to figure out how to be a Knight-Enchanter." She forced a smile. "So keep an eye on each other, alright? You can''t let Henley here get too wild."


    Henley let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. "Oh, sure, because I''m the one who needs supervision. Not the broody one over here."


    "Hey," Sorin muttered, shooting him a glare, but there was no real venom behind it.


    Evelyn stood up, her chair scraping against the stone floor. "I''m going to miss you both," she said, her voice soft now, vulnerable. "More than you know."


    Henley shot up, wrapping his arms around her before she could protest. His embrace was tight, almost desperate, as if holding her a moment longer might keep her from leaving. "I am going to write," he murmured into her hair. "Constantly. I''ll send you the worst jokes I can think of, and you''ll laugh because you''ll miss me too damn much not to."


    She laughed, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. "Deal."


    When Henley finally let go, Sorin stood awkwardly to the side, looking as if he wasn''t sure what to do with his hands. He wasn''t one for goodbyes or emotions. But after a brief hesitation, he stepped forward and pulled her into a quick, stiff hug. It lasted barely a second before he pulled back, shoving his hands into his pockets.


    Evelyn felt a surge of warmth in her chest. She knew how much Sorin hated physical contact, how hard this was for him, and yet he''d done it. For her. That meant more than any words he could have said.


    "I will write too," Sorin muttered, his eyes flickering away from hers as if the moment was already too much.


    As the three of them stood there, a bittersweet silence falling over them, Evelyn felt the weight of the looming departure settle more heavily on her shoulders. She was sad — heartbroken, even — but there was also a flicker of excitement, a small thrill of what lay ahead. Ferelden, Kinloch Tower, the unknown path she was about to tread. She was terrified but also ready.


    Finally, Evelyn stepped back, taking a deep breath. "I think I should go and start packing," she said, her voice steady once more. "I''ll see you before I leave."


    Henley nodded, though the sadness in his eyes betrayed him. Sorin gave a curt nod, his usual stoicism slipping just a little.


    As she turned to leave, the sound of Henley''s voice stopped her in her tracks. "Hey, Evie?"


    She glanced over her shoulder.


    "You better come back. If you don''t, I''m hunting you down."


    Evelyn grinned, her heart swelling. "I wouldn''t expect anything less."


    With one last look at her friends, she left the dining hall, her mind already racing ahead to the journey that awaited her — and the people she was leaving behind.


    ***


    As their caravan entered through the gates of Kinloch Hold on Lake Calenhad, she couldn''t help but think back to when she had first arrived at the Circle in Ostwick. The layout of the complex was about the only thing similar to that which she had known for the past four years. Ferelden had shown her nothing but foul weather since making it to port in Jader.


    Unceremoniously taken to the Entry Foyer of the Tower and made to wait for quite some time, her feelings for this Circle had not improved. It was cold; the type of cold that seeped into one''s bones. Naturally, her want for any kind of warmth from magic to her sorely missed friends she left behind in Ostwick grew exponentially. It was a teary goodbye between her, Sorin, and Henley – though they''d all deny it, trying to keep the mood light. Despite being torn apart, Evelyn feared missing her friends was going to be the least of her worries as she prepared to start again in a new Circle.


    At the age of fourteen, Evelyn was still short and skinny, despite her average growth. She had yet to officially become a woman, to which the healers simply told her that she was a late bloomer. Her breasts were still unremarkable and the constant annoyance of pimples made her look like she had the pox. Though she and her other teenage counterparts all were going through the change, it didn''t make her feel any less like a hormonal freak. Some days she looked in the mirror and wished her looks favored that of her mother, who seemed to pass her feminine beauty on to her sisters, with their soft supple curves befitting of their sex. Evelyn''s jaw was square and her chin was strong. While she looked more fierce than feminine, at the age where she wished boys would notice her, she wanted to be noted as pretty, not formidable. And yet, the whole reason for being transferred to Ferelden was to train under Knight-Enchanter Croft to see if she had what it takes to join their elite ranks.


    "On your feet girl," came the command in a stout Southern accent. The source of the voice was from a tall bearded man with light brown hair, "I take it you are Novice Evelyn Trevelyan from Ostwick?"


    "Yes, sir." She folded her hands in front of her looking him in the eyes. Her father had always taught her to do so, for it both reassured people of one''s attention and asserted dominance over the conversation. Her attention, however, was diverted for a moment by a tall young man with wavy blond standing to the side of his superior. His face was unreadable, though his amber eyes moved about avoiding her direct stare.


    Turning her attention back to the older man, she watched as he studied her for a moment, "I am Knight-Captain Greagoir. Forgive my curiosity, but I expected you to be taller considering how Knight-Captain Tobias described you." She just continued to look at him with indifference, his eyes still taking measure of her. She was used to the scrutiny of others thanks to her upbringing, and stood strong and proud against it. "Well, let''s get you up to the First Enchanter''s office so he can welcome you. Recruit," motioning the young man forward, "carry her bag." As he reached for her belongings, his eyes finally met hers, "Ah, forgive me, this is Master Rutherford. He is helping me with a few tasks today." Both just nodded to each other in silent acknowledgment.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Leading her up the endless staircase to the upper floor where the First Enchanter''s office was located, everything was eerily familiar. The construction and layout of the Circle Tower were the same but it was undeniably Ferelden. Cold, damp, dark, uninviting — everything she had seen so far including the people could be described as such.


    When the door to the First Enchanter''s office opened before her it was surreal seeing a completely different room from Lydia''s. Compared to her''s the mage''s office was sparse with few"Irving? The mage from Ostwick is here." Greagoir called to the man seated at the large wooden desk.


    "Ah, yes, come in Novice Trevelyan." He stood and rounded the desk. His eyes sagged with a heaviness, yet tried to summon some mirth. "Welcome to Kinloch Tower on Lake Calenhad. A beautiful view, was it not?" Despite nodding, their murky swamp of a lake didn''t measure up to the blue of the Waking Sea and the sunshine of Ostwick. Continuing on he rambled, not having much more pertinent information since she was not new to Circle life.


    "Until you pass your Harrowing, you will bunk with the other Novices in the girls'' dormitory." He shuffled through an unruly stack of parchment on his desk. Finding what he was after and handing it to her, she saw that it was her old class schedule from Ostwick, just with different instructors and the added training in the yard. "You are here to be accessed as a potential candidate to train to be a Knight-Enchanter. Should Knight-Enchanter Croft accept you as a student, you''ll become a permanent resident here, but if not you''ll be sent back to Ostwick." The crow''s feet by his eyes deepened as he looked her in the eyes intensely. Another scrutinous stare was enough to ignite the fire in her eyes at the constant annoyance. Seeing the spark that resided there, Irving snorted a laugh looking over to Greagoir, tilting his head and sharing a look. "I''m sure it''s been quite the long and arduous journey here, so take the remainder of the day to rest, for tomorrow you meet with the Knight-Enchanter. Good luck to you, Novice Trevelyan."


    The curving dormitory was just like that of her last home. The Templar recruit – who she had already forgotten the name of because he was so quiet – dropped her bag beside her with a glance and nodded before leaving her to the wolves. Hesitating in the doorway, a voice with a heavy accent called over to her before pushing her to the side to get in, "Ye lost, or wot?"


    She turned to find an elven girl, perhaps a little older than herself, standing there, the mop of wild red hair reflecting the ambient light. There was a scrappiness to her, her features telling tales of rough life and misadventures. Freckles dotted her face like a sprinkle of cinnamon, framing eyes that sparkled with a mischievous glint, bright green and full of street-smart savvy. She had the air of a kid who''d seen more than her fair share of the world''s twists and turns.


    "I''m new actually, just arrived. You don''t happen to know of an empty bunk do you?"


    "I ''reckon I do," the elven girl eyed her suspiciously, "do you have any odd magey traits?"


    "My veins glow like fire when I''m mad, but I don''t believe that would disturb your sleeping."


    "I suppose. Do ye bathe regularly or have any other smelly habits?"


    "Yes, of course, and no."


    "Most importantly, do ye snore?"


    "No, I sleep like the dead and I''m a heavy sleeper."


    The elf hugged her about the shoulders with an arm, pulling her further into the dorm, "Yer bunkin'' with me then! Can never be too careful, sorry for the interrogation, um...?"


    "Evelyn."


    A gap in her front teeth peeked out from her grin. "Nice to meet ye, I''m Rhetta. Yer a bit old to have just come into yer magic." The girl didn''t seem afraid at all speaking her mind.


    "I didn''t, I transferred here from the Circle of Ostwick to train with Knight-Enchanter Croft. Our Circle is better known for its instruction of the healing arts rather than the offensive. As it is, it has no resident Knight-Enchanter."


    The mage gave her an odd look of scrutiny, "Hmm, ye must be pretty talented then. Croft is one salty bastard, I wish ya luck with that. Say, ye talk all fancy, ye one of them nobles?"


    "I am high-born, yes, of House Trevelyan. And yourself?"


    "No shit, really? Look at me makin'' friends with the fancy shems. Typically, all the snoots stick together like fleas on a rat''s arse." Her face scrunched up as she rolled her eyes. Evelyn was well aware of the cliques that formed within Circles. At first, she subscribed to the idea out of the comfort of familiarity, but after a while, she met friends and broke from the other nobles. "I''m from the Ailenage in Denerim. I traded one prison for another. At least they feed ye here though." Evelyn didn''t quite know what to say, and an uneasy look drew her face down. "Oh, don''t give that look, it''s all good, ''innit? Suppose I should be a bit more grateful." Coming to a halt at a nondescript bunk in the middle of the dormitory, Rhetta gestured with her hands, "Ah, here we are, ye can put your stuff in that trunk there at the foot of the bed."


    "What bed do you typically take?"


    "The top, never did like sleeping down low where the critters could get ya."


    "Critters?" Evelyn paused her unpacking to look up curiously at her.


    "Oh, not here. Back at the Ailenage, there were rats so big they could eat cats. Nasty blighters." The two cringed, and just as he had finished the dinner bell rang. "Perfect timin''! Shall we? I have another mage for ye to meet. It''s always good to have friends, right?"


    Walking the dark stone hall of her new home Circle, she followed Rhetta into the Mess Hall. When she was met by savory smells, it was as if her nerves were replaced by her hunger as her stomach growled like a Rage demon. Evelyn followed the elf''s lead on what dishes were the best from the assortment of foreign food. They sat with another girl who had been off in the corner alone with her back to the room as if trying to ignore the bustle. As they approached her, Evelyn studied her delicate features sitting across from the two mages.


    She was around thirteen years old and appeared frighteningly thin. Deep-set eyes of pale blue peered out from beneath heavy lids while her dark brown hair, braided in a single plait, cascaded down her back, nearly touching the floor. In a general sense, she might have been considered unattractive, yet there was a vulnerability to her that softened her features, lending an air of fragility. As they approached, she tensed, her posture betraying a sense of fear. However, as her gaze met Rhetta''s, recognition sparked in her eyes, and a semblance of relaxation washed over her, like a candle flickering back to life in a gentle breeze.


    "Miri, this is Evelyn. She''s a high-born like you. Just arrived from Ostwick." Rhetta wasted no time in divulging the highlights of their previous conversation.


    "It''s Miriam, but Rhetta enjoys her pet nicknames for everyone. Welcome to Kinloch, Evelyn." Her voice was soft and serene, almost how she''d imagined The Divine would talk.


    Evelyn gave a smile, "Thank you, Miriam. It''s nice to have made some friends so quickly only having just arrived."


    "Was there a specific reason for your transfer?" Her eyes flickered with concern for a moment to her elven companion, no doubt wondering if she had just been introduced to a troublemaker.


    "Oi, wait til'' ye hear this!" Rhetta''s response did nothing to bolster Miriam''s confidence in her innocence. "Go on, tell ''er!"


    "I''ve been recommended for Knight-Enchanter training. I''m here to train with Knight-Enchanter Croft." Miriam stopped chewing and Rhetta bit her lip holding back a snort of a laugh.


    Dabbing her linen to her mouth, composing herself while ignoring her neighbor beside her, she inquired brightly, "That''s... quite something. I don''t think the Knight-Enchanter has taken on a pupil since Abraxas. Rhetta, for instance, is currently honing her skills in the healing arts, while I... by the grace of the Maker, aspire to follow in her footsteps one day." Her voice trailed off wistfully at the end, a faint echo of longing lingering in her words.


    "I don''t bloody want to be honin'' anything, mate. But they''re makin'' us study somethin'', aren''t they? And I reckon it''s better than spendin'' all day flingin'' fireballs and icicles around," the redhead grumbled, resting her head on the table while playing with her fork.


    "You mentioned another mage training to be a Knight-Enchanter?" Evelyn was curious as to who she would most likely be getting well acquainted with soon.


    Miriam nodded, "Apprentice Abraxas, he''s been Croft''s only student for several years now. He''s--"


    "Fuckin'' gorgeous," the elf interjected.


    "Language!" Miriam scolded her, "What will Evelyn think of us?"


    "It''s alright, my father was a soldier, so I''m used to a bit of colorful talk." The Marcher couldn''t help but chuckle at the dynamic of the odd couple. "I suppose I''ll be meeting him tomorrow then along with Croft. Thanks for the warning though, I''ll be sure not to gape at him now." The three shared a laugh as a Templar walked by shaking their head at the three. "Miriam, Rhetta said you''re high-born as well. What House do you hail from?"


    Her smile faded quickly, replaced with a somber sadness, "Well, I... " S he paused with a distant look in her eyes. "My family couldn''t abide the notion of magic tarnishing their lineage, so they swiftly expelled me, as if I were nothing but a stain to be scrubbed away from their esteemed history . Though it''s been two long years since it all happened, and with much soul-searching and countless prayers, I''ve managed to find it within myself to forgive them," she concluded softly. Yet, despite her attempt to convey a sense of closure, the lingering pain of rejection remained unmistakable in her voice.


    "I''m sorry to hear that. It''s common in the Free Marches as well, and my mother has yet to speak to me since I entered the Circle. My father, thank the Maker, still writes though."


    A wan yet genuine smile appeared on Miriam''s face, "You are blessed, truly. I can count the number of high-born mages here who still correspond with family on one hand, and that includes you. Ferelden attitudes are harsh when it comes to magic." Gazing into her pale blue eyes, the two shared an unspoken understanding of the disappointment heaped upon them at the emergence of their magic.


    "Can we get back to the topic of Brax?"


    The dark-haired girl rolled her eyes at Rhetta, "Truly? That''s all she ever talks about, boys. May I hope, Evelyn, that our conversations might be graced with a touch more academia and less hormones?"


    Chuckling, the Marcher replied, "I think I can speak on both subjects, so long as you can put up with my inevitable whining over my upcoming training. That''s if I last long enough, for according to the two of you I shouldn''t unpack my bags just yet."


    "Well, I''ll be rootin'' for ye. You''ll be my ticket to speakin'' with Brax." Rhetta''s large green eyes and red brows bobbed up and down as the other two mages exchanged looks.


    As they conversed, a group of other mages passed by, their chatter momentarily breaking the tranquility of the scene. One of them, initially inclined to join the trio, caught sight of Miriam and recoiled in horror. "Maker preserve me, didn''t see ''Bloody Miri'' there," he muttered, prompting the others to murmur a protective prayer.


    Rhetta''s fiery spirit flared up at their disrespectful behavior. "Oi, bugger off!" she snapped, her tone sharp. The offenders, taken aback by her sudden hostility, quickly retreated, casting wary glances over their shoulders as they departed.


    Evelyn watched the exchange with surprise, her expression reflecting her bewilderment at the unexpected hostility directed towards Miriam. Meanwhile, the girl in question simply smiled and waved her hand dismissively, as if to brush off the incident. Nonetheless, Evelyn couldn''t help but wonder what this was all about.


    "Don''t ye be listen to those lob cocks–"


    "Language, Rhetta! Please. " Instead of looking at the elf, Miriam flicked her gaze at Evelyn clearly seeing the question on her face. Her expression faltered once again. "Maker, I truly wished you would have had the chance to know me better before I had to tell you this, but it seems He had other plans," she lamented. Straightening her posture and clearing her throat, she began talking in a slightly unsteady tone. "You see, when I wield my healing magic, an unsettling phenomenon occurs, my eyes begin to bleed. It''s exclusive to the healing school of arcane arts, no other branch triggers it. I want to assure you, I am no maleificar. Andraste herself can bear witness, I would sooner perish than dabble in forbidden crafts," she asserted, her agitation palpable as she sought to reaffirm her innocence. "I underwent rigorous scrutiny by the First Enchanter and the Knight-Commander himself, repeatedly tested and even confronted a demon in the Fade without faltering!"


    Evelyn recoiled in shock. "But children are forbidden from enduring the Harrowing!"


    With a bitter smirk, Rhetta interjected, "Ye wouldn''t believe the stuff they pull off just by slappin'' on a different name."


    Miriam quickly interjected, clarifying, "It wasn''t the Harrowing per se, but rather a test of resistance against demonic influence, designed to safeguard the Circle from any apprentice displaying maleficarum tendencies." She sighed softly, her gaze momentarily dropping before meeting Evelyn''s eyes once more. "Despite my best efforts to prove my loyalty and innocence, I cannot deny the truth. Other mages here still fear and avoid me, casting wary glances whenever I pass. I would understand completely if you, too, chose to keep your distance," she admitted with a tinge of resignation in her voice.


    Evelyn''s expression softened, a flicker of empathy crossing her features as she recalled the challenges she faced due to her own mutation. "Though for different reasons, I can sympathize with people looking at you wearily," she explained softly. "Besides, my father taught me not to judge people based on hearsay or superstition. Until you prove otherwise, I will treat you just as any other fellow apprentice."


    Miriam blinked at her in confusion, her disbelief evident in her expression. "Oh, you would? Truly!?"


    Rhetta, observing the exchange, slapped Evelyn''s back with a hearty laugh. "I hadda good feelin'' about ye from the beginning girl, and ye didn''t disappoint!" The three girls shared a smile content with the addition to their group of misfits. "Glad to see ye don''t raise your nose at us knife-ears either. Suppose that''s just as bad as bein'' spotted like a blighted toad."


    "Spotted? You mean your freckles?" The Marcher cocked her head to the side.


    "Nah. Me back is literally spotted from the neck to arse." Turning her head away, she lifted her hair to reveal oval speckles that grew smaller in size the further from her spine they were. The largest were about the size of a coin. Letting her fiery hair fall to conceal the mutation once more, Rhetta huffed in annoyance, "It''s ugly– I''m ugly. Why did the Maker have to curse me so? I don''t got a lot goin'' for me, but what boy will want to tumble wit'' me looking like some creature out of the swamp!"


    "Please do not doubt that the Maker loves you, Rhetta. He would never curse His child. All that you have, all that you are, is a gift from Him and should be treated as such," Miriam''s voice was gentle, imbued with conviction. "Besides, in His infinite grace, He has granted you the loveliest shade of hair. It truly is a rarity."


    Evelyn was quick to echo Miriam''s sentiment, her tone warm with sincerity. "Indeed, your hair is a marvel, Rhetta," she chimed in, offering a supportive smile to the elf.


    Rhetta, taken aback by their words of reassurance, couldn''t help but blush, a bashful smile gracing her lips. The weight of self-doubt momentarily lifted from her shoulders as she absorbed their genuine compliments."Well, if you two insist it''s that beautiful, then I guess it''s true." Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she turned to Evelyn. "You know, E, can I call ye E?" Before she could answer, the elf continued eagerly, "I think ye are good enough to be our friend! What do you say?"


    Evelyn, caught off guard by the sudden offer, looked at the girls in perplexity for a moment.


    "You shouldn''t put her on the spot like that," the Ferelden interjected, her brow furrowing with concern. "Do not feel pressured, Evelyn."


    The Marcher was a little bewildered, but she couldn''t deny the warmth that bloomed in her chest at Rhetta''s earnest invitation. To find companionship so quickly after her transfer was both unexpected and relieving. "Sure, I mean, yes, of course," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity.