Chapter Text
She entered the world on a bright morning bathed in the orange glow of sunrise. Surrounded by the forest, the air was thick with the earthy scent of trees and moss.
She came into existence with ease, calmness, and silence.
But she came into the world accompanied by death, which took its first toll—her mother.
She arrived bearing hope, a hope to be loved, nurtured, and cherished.
Warm hands held her, cradling her fragile body, lulling her into the world.
Tears greeted her arrival—tears of loss and pain, sliding down her newborn cheeks.
She opened wide, curious eyes, as blue as the sky, framed by fiery red hair and delicately pointed ears.
She entered the world pure and innocent, her heart untainted, like all who are born.
Her name was Celia, a name belonging to someone already forgotten—a soul lost to her before she could even know them.
She came without expectations of the world or its people.
But the world she entered would destroy her. It would harden her heart and toughen her skin.
She came into the world filled with goodness and purity, yet the world would strip it all away.
It offered her trials, tribulations, doubts, and despair. A violent, merciless place, filled with fleeting joy, deep sorrow, anguish, and pain.
Yet, amidst its cruelty, the world gifted her a man—her father. A promise of another tomorrow. He was her greatest gift.
In a world without a home, he was her rock, her solace, her teacher, and her guardian.
"The world is not dangerous because of those who do harm, but because of those who stand by and do nothing," he often reminded her.
Like her, he had no home, no past, no clan. He belonged nowhere and everywhere.
Her bright blue eyes, so curious and searching, found belonging in him. The hands that first held her, the voice that calmed her, the magic he wielded so proudly—all became her world.
He taught her everything: patience, survival, and the ancient knowledge of reading, writing, and history. They wandered through forests, meadows, mountains, and ruins, with him revealing the secrets of the world.
He gave her wolves—fierce creatures she learned to befriend—and tales of Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf. A legend and a man who had once lived.
Above all, he gave her love, a fairytale she had never known.
"You cannot force love," he said. "When it comes, you will know. Treasure it, for loved ones come and go."
She believed him, listening to every word.
Yet he kept secrets. His diary—a thick, leather-bound book—held them.
"It will be yours once I'm gone," he said. "Be patient."
So, she learned patience.
Her father taught her to navigate cities and clans, to stay hidden, to trade and speak wisely. He taught her when to lie and when to tell the truth.
He taught her cleverness—the art of lying with the truth—and the importance of words, whether spoken or left unsaid.
He prepared her for the world as best he could, though it would never truly welcome her.
The Dalish forced vallaslin upon her, marking her with symbols meant to ground her and free her from the influence of Fen'Harel.
They gave her a new name—Falherna—an anagram of the god she cherished.
"You're doomed," they told her. "He has already caught your scent."
But she pitied them, their stubbornness, their fears. To them, she was dangerous, mad—an abomination.
And still, they violated her. They took what was not theirs to take.
Once more, the world destroyed her, so she could be saved.
Humans—shemlens—were no better. They killed her father, breaking her heart and filling her with hatred.
Their violence awoke something dark within her. She took pleasure in their deaths, her hands stained with their blood.
This time, the world destroyed her beyond saving.
Her father's secrets remained out of reach, locked by a spell. His diary, her only token of him, became a symbol of her loss.
Grief consumed her for weeks and months. Anger, guilt, and hatred burned in her heart.
Loneliness became her companion, and self-destruction her desire.
But then Fen—a wolf—came into her life.
Wounded and alone, like her, he gave her a second chance. He brought her purpose, love, and redemption.
With Fen by her side, she found the strength to live.
The world allowed her to start anew.
She traveled, making deals and connections, living two lives—one with Fen in the forests, and one without him in cities and clans.
Though she remained an outsider, she learned to love fiercely.
She loved her wolf, the nature surrounding her, and the dream of Fen'Harel.
Dreams became her solace, filling the void left by those she had lost.
Faron, a city elf assassin, drifted into her life. His youthful impulsiveness and honesty brought her companionship and new skills.
His group of misfits gave her a sense of belonging, albeit fleeting.
In Kirkwall, the City of Chains, she found a brief respite—peaceful nights with her crew and the comfort of routine.
But the city's air felt heavy with unrest, and she blessed the day she left it behind.
Now, at the Conclave, standing on a hill overlooking the Temple of Sacred Ashes, she sensed a storm brewing.
The fate of the world rested on negotiations between Templars, mages, and the Most Holy Divine Justinia.
Fen howled beside her, sensing the danger.
She knelt, whispering, "Go now. I'll find you, ma Fen."
The wolf lingered, his gaze steady, before vanishing into the forest.
Alone again, she turned her eyes to the horizon.
The last mission awaited. Beyond it lay salvation—or destruction.
