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“You can do more.”
Moira blinked and looked up from the elfroot she was grinding for poultices. The party had set up camp beside a small stream at the edge of a farm field, where a group of boulders blocked the wind. Alistair was on watch, while Leliana and Zevran were out trying to bring in some small game for supper. That left Morrigan, Wynne, and Sten with time to rest… but the big Qunari was standing beside her, looking out across the field.
She shook her head. “What do you mean, ‘I can do more?’ More about what, the darkspawn?”
“More than you believe you can,” Sten replied. “You see yourself as limited, a mage with only one spell, where others have many.” He folded his arms. “But the true measure of one’s capabilities is not what skills one has, but how one uses them to their fullest. At a fundamental level, all I ever do is swing a weapon around. But I choose which weapon, how to strike, where, and when, and there the soldier’s art lies.”
Moira nodded thoughtfully, looking at her bow and arrows, where they lay nearby. “You think I can learn to choose my targets better, be of more help to the group?”
Sten shook his head. “No. What you must do is open your mind to what you are truly capable of. At a fundamental level, all you do is increase the speed of moving objects. But you can choose which objects, and when, and how much speed to add. You currently have chosen to limit yourself to increasing the power of your archery, but your potential is far greater.” He snapped a small branch off of a nearby tree. “For example, suppose a foe is attacking, and you accelerated the weapon he wields?”
He took up a fighting stance, standing far enough away to be sure not to hit her, and swung the stick. Moira concentrated, then directed magical energy into Sten’s “weapon.” The big Qunari was briefly hauled off balance before the branch flew out of his hand and splashed into the stream. Sten flexed his fingers, examining his hand.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Moira said. “I tried not to accelerate it too much; I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t, not seriously,” the big Qunari replied. “More to the point, you didn’t use much magic to speed the branch, but I would have fallen if I didn’t let go, and I was expecting it.” He picked up a poultice and stuck it to the friction burn on his palm. “This, I believe, is your true potential. Your magic can disarm enemies, upset their balance, and give your allies openings to attack.” He walked out into the farm field, pulled a scarecrow out of the ground, and came back over to Moira. “And what would happen, I wonder, if you used your powers on the enemy themselves?”
He shoved the scarecrow towards her. Moira cast her spell and it hurtled past, tumbled, struck a boulder, and burst into a cloud of straw and splinters. She gasped and Sten grunted approvingly. “As I said, you can do more… far more.”