CHILD OF THE MOON

An Orlesian family, devoted to the Game, of masks and lies. If you’re careful enough no one will see injuries behind a mask and Celia’s father knew that well. The injuries weren’t hers but her mothers but the terror was both of theirs and yet her father claimed shame for her being born a mage. 

The story starts with a young woman being in love but not the her betrothed. Their love can’t be stopped even after the wedding and while lovers on the side are standard in Orlais, if it leads to pregnancy and a child who later shows signs of magic, it becomes unforgivable, especially to Duke d’Gagnon. Even though the child was given all the privileges, her mother was thrust in the dirt behind closed doors. And when she decayed the Duke’s hand at the tender age of ten because he raised his hand to her mother, everything became much worse. 

The Duke could not admit to further shame, he could not reveal to the world that his daughter would need to be dragged away to the White Spire. No, he’d take matters in his own like just like he always did. She was locked in a room and was watched over by templars the Duke hired, templars who were too insane for circle duty. Her father blamed the lame arm a tragic attack in which his daughter tragically lost her life. 

To the world she was dead just as she was to her father. He’d never see anyone apart from her templars, and years of isolation can easily chip away at one’s mind. No wonder Celia’s shattered. So many fear a demon’s influence on a mage’s mind but it is not always the worst eventuality. Another came, another to protect her, to lock Celia away in her own mind when she needed someone the most. That’s when the other would come out to play.

It happened not long after her 22nd birthday. She begged her templars every single year to let her see her mother, bargained and threatened but no answer came. But on this particular day the templar’s crumbling mind revealed the secret: her mother was no more. She has been gone for two years. That is when Celia disappeared to the recesses of her mind and the other came out to play. Most would show talent for fire, ice, perhaps lightning, but her calling was different. Her touch as well as her mind could decay and atrophy the living, the way her mother’s life was, the way her life and mind was forced to crumble into dust, so will everything else around her.

When the other came out and burst with the power of decay, those two templars were not enough, nothing would hold her back no more. The other in her attacked anyone and everyone but made sure to seek out her father’s bedroom on that night, forcing to watch himself waste away slowly starting from his toe as he begged for his life and swore regret for Celia’s fate but the other didn’t hear him. She left nothing in that mansion but ashes.

Celia knew little of the world but she knew she had to flee. She ran and hid wherever she could, some would take pity on her and offer her food, she’d take it and ask about one thing. Which way to Tevinter? Her templars would talk to her at times, telling her stories of the terrible magisters and how she should never be like that. Now it was clear to her that is exactly what she wanted.

But the Imperium did not turn out to be everything she wanted. With no skills to her name she could only beg on the streets in the tatters of her old robes. On one accidental occasion a mage witnessed her protect herself from those who tried to take what little coin she had. Her unique talent piqued interest and she was offered apprenticeship.

Suddenly she had a room and she could leave it whenever she pleased. For a while she insisted on the door being open or not having a door at all, making her feel less trapped. In the same way facing too many people was a struggle for her, always hiding under her hood. Eventually her mentor suggested for her to wear a heavy veil in an attempt to help her separate herself from the outside world.