Dragon Age: Origins

Under Your Spell

Chapter One

Magician's Blood

Magic was power. It came in many forms, summoned forth from the mighty elements themselves. It was fast, strong, unstoppable, impenetrable, and deadly. Magic could make any number of things happen. It could torture, confuse, burn, freeze, kill – the list went on. There were no limits, and the cost was small. All it required was a little bit of the user's energy.

Morrigan smiled as the battle raged around her amongst the deep forest. In her palm was a flickering flame no larger than a balled fist. It licked at the air, twirled and spun in a golden dance. She looked up from the tip of the tiny inferno, her eyes boring into the nearest darkspawn. It raised a blood-stained battle axe and brought it down crashing into the earth, letting out a savage cry of rage. Morrigan's companions had chased down their own enemies, but she remained with this lone remnant of what was once a human. It turned to face her, and the pair stared across the short distance. What could have been a twisted smile appeared on the darkspawn's thick lips. It was an unnerving thought to wonder if they truly could smile.

"You really are delusional if you think you can take me on," Morrigan said with an exhausted sigh. The darkspawn stepped towards her, axe raised. Its empty eyes glinted with blood-lust.

"One more step and I will be setting that hideous head of yours on fire," she warned, forcing more energy into the burning flames in her palm. They roared to life, rising higher, coiling around her fingers.

Still the darkspawn approached, teeth bared, breaths coming short, hungry.

"That," the witch said with sick glee, "was your final step." She clasped her fingers shut, her palm becoming a fist that swallowed the flames. They disappeared and reappeared on the darkspawn's hairless head.

The darkspawn yelped as the flames burned and ate away at its flesh. She let it batter its face in agony with clawed hands for a few more moments, her laughter shrill in the air, then she waved her now bare hand and the flames spread all over the creature in a second. It fell to the ground, screeching in pain, and withered for another few moments until it lay still.

Morrigan rested her hands on her hips. "That was much too easy. If this is the threat that Ferelden faces, then I don't think anyone has anything to worry about."

"Good. So you'll be leaving us then?" Alistair asked hopefully, appearing behind the witch.

She turned, a scowl ready on her face. "Actually, no, I think I would like to stay here and continue to make your life miserable. Tis more fun than spending my days enduring mother's tales of the past. You should be very happy for providing me with such entertainment."

Alistair's shoulder's slumped. "Great," he muttered. "I am absolutely thrilled to learn that piece of information."

Elissa stepped out from behind the trees beside him. She stretched her arms and yawned, apparently not bothered by the dark blood splattered on her face. "Enough, you two," she said half-heartedly. "Its getting late. We need to set up camp and rest."

All eyes cast to the sky. Their leader was right. The sun was lowering past the clouds, casting its final shining rays. Shadows crept over the forest floor and a gentle wind held the cold touch of the approaching night.

"You're right, as usual," Alistair said, a slight smile on his face as Elissa's cheeks burned. "You're certainly getting the hang of things. Why don't you tell me what else you've learned over these few weeks once I have my sleeping sack ready..."

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Please stop it before I stick knives into my ears. Speaking of something that would inflict me with a killing headache, where is that loud-mouthed bard?"

"Her name is Leliana," Elissa corrected her, searching the area. "And I have no idea where she is. I must have lost sight of her during the battle."

Alistair walked further into the trees, motioning for Elissa to follow. "Why don't we look for her together." He held his hand out, and Elissa took it without hesitation, asking Morrigan to set things up over her shoulder.

Morrigan knew that the pair were looking for some time to be alone more than anything, but decided not to spoil their fun. She didn't care for the bard anyway, and she wanted more time to herself without having to put up with the constant company of her companions. She started to set up the camp as the pair disappeared into the growing shadows.

A silent hour passed, and no one had come back, neither the giddy couple or the loud-mouthed bard. Morrigan laid back beneath the stars on the mat of her tent, watching the darkening sky. The privacy was wonderful, and she hoped that no one would come back until the morning. She deserved a night of peace. Her eyes began to slide shut, a peaceful smile spreading on her face.

"Morrigan?"

A weak voice called out. It was so rasped and pained that Morrigan didn't recognise it. She sat up quickly, hand gripping the hard wood of her staff, her tired eyes wide open. She saw the shadow of the stranger stepping into camp and let out a frustrated sigh.

"I was hoping that something had dragged you into the woods to devour you," she said heartlessly to Leliana, true disappointment bitter in her voice. "How disappointing that you should have survived and return to ruin my evening as you always..." She trailed off.

Something was wrong with Leliana.

The sun had set and cast its final light down in the centre of the camp. As Leliana stepped into the yellowing rays, the witch let out a gasp. The bard was covered in bruises and scratches, dirt and mud. Blood ran down her arms in thin trails and her leather armour was torn and ripped. Those injuries that she bore were minor, though, compared to the trail of dark light that followed her like a thick shadow. It was a purplish blue hue and hung in the air like smoke. Morrigan knew what it was immediately. It stank of magic. Someone had blasted her with it, and from the looks of Leliana's pale face, it was a poisoning spell.

"Morrigan..." she gasped, barely able to get the words out. She stumbled to a stop, her hands shaking as she held them to her stomach. "It... it hurts, Morrigan." Those words took the last of her energy and she collapsed face-first into the thin litter of leaves on the ground.

The witch was on her feet in an instant, rushing over to her fallen companion. She hated the bard more than her constant harsh words could express, but she was not as evil as the tales told. She still had a human heart somewhere deep inside of her.

"Leliana?" She rocked her gently, but the girl didn't move or reply. The magical energy pulsed around her, the haze still in the air. Morrigan waved her hand through it, ridding it from around her and the bard as though it were smoke. It dispersed into the air and she rolled Leliana onto her back.

Maker above, she was pale.

All of the years of survival had hardened Morrigan and she refused to panic. She rose her head and yelled out Elissa's and Alistair's names. Of course, they didn't come running to the crisis. Trust them to get down and busy just when she needed them the most. She would be giving them an earful when they got back, that was for sure.

She turned back to Leliana and leaned over her, grasping her shoulders and shaking her hard. "Leliana, snap out of it! Tis going to look ridiculously suspicious if you die in camp when I am the only one here." Was she alive? Was her heart beating? Morrigan was the last person who would know what to do if the situation were that dire.

"Morri... stop shaking... me."

Morrigan released the bard's shoulders, relief flooding through her, though she was talented enough to hide the fact. "She breathes. Tis an unfortunate miracle."

Leliana coughed a few times, then fought to sit up. She failed and slumped back down into the leaves more than once, and Morrigan finally lost her patience and gripped her leather shirt tightly to yank her up. Immediately the bard bent over and coughed again into her lap, her hands clenching around leaves and sticks on the ground. Her entire body shuddered, but the spell had done its damage. Its effects had passed, so why could Morrigan still smell magic around the bard?

"Leliana, what happened?" the witch asked seriously.

Despite looking as though she had walked through the depths of hell, Leliana still managed to smile. "Worried, Morrigan? I never thought... I would see the day..."

Morrigan pulled a face. "Don't bring your pointless fantasies into reality, bard. I was just wondering because, if I'm not mistaken, which I am not, the magic that poisoned you is still in your blood, and I will never hear the end of it seeing as you hate magic so much."

Leliana's face became an even darker shade of white as the information sunk in. "In my blood? W-what? What does that mean?"

"You're still weak, too," Morrigan pointed out, ignoring her. "Sit still." She reached and grasped Leliana's wrist. She felt her pulse. It thundered strongly. She laid the palm of her hand against Leliana's forehead, ignoring the fact that the bard's cheeks burned at the touch. Her temperature was on fire, but then it would flash cold for a split second. The witch's eyebrows knitted together. "This is... definitely the works of magic."

"But its stopped hurting. I only feel exhausted now."

"Leliana, I think..." Morrigan trailed off for a moment, knowing that the bard would not like what she was about to say. She had to know, nonetheless, but the witch wished she was not the one to say it.

"What?" Leliana pressed. "What is it, Morrigan?"

The witch rubbed her temples, a headache forming. "What I am saying is that I believe the one who attacked you with magic, whoever it was, has left it imprinted in you. They must have been a very powerful mage to do such a thing, though. Who was it, might I ask?" She spoke as though nothing were wrong, hoping it would help the situation.

Of course, it didn't.

Leliana, being a believer and strict worshipper of the Maker, saw magic as an terrible tool, and mages the evil wielders. Possessing magic, no matter the reason or events leading to it, was the worst sort of punishment for her. She gasped and her eyes went wide and round. Mouth hanging open, she whispered, "How is that possible? It... it was just a normal darkspawn."

Morrigan's blood ran cold. Killing darkspawn was the bard's passion. Surely she wouldn't have left it alive. "Leliana, tell me you didn't kill the darkspawn whom cast the spell on you."

Her speechlessness was all the answer the witch needed.

"Well, that means my idea is useless then." Morrigan shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. What should she care? If anything, this would make things more interesting. The bard was now a magician, the magic inked into her blood. It went against everything she believed in, and in a way, the witch found it funny. Let that teach her a lesson for bothering me during this entire trip. She has been more of a pest than I ever would have thought possible. She even makes Alistair seem bearable

The bard in question, meanwhile, looked as though she had just been shot through with one of her own arrows. She clutched her hands to her chest and rocked on the spot. "I'm a mage now? No... No, that can't be true!" She turned to Morrigan, desperation in her eyes. "What was your plan? What were you going to do?"

"Tis useless now," Morrigan said truthfully. Seeing that Leliana wasn't going to back down, though, she let out a deep breath and told her anyway. "My mother would have performed an old ritual using the still-living darkspawn that had cast the spell on you to retrieve the magic from your blood and destroy it. However, the obvious problem is that the darkspawn is dead, so now you have no hope. If it helps, I actually pity you a little."

The bard stared at Morrigan for another moment before turning away mechanically. She closed her eyes, her breathing coming fast. "So I'm a mage now? I can't do anything about it?"

"Not a thing."

"Nothing?"

"Are you deaf?" Morrigan shook her head in disbelief and rose to her feet. "Honestly, it isn't such a bad thing, is it? This way maybe you will be able to last longer than ten minutes in battle. Maybe you will actually be of use to us." She laughed and shook her head. "No, wait, that's just wishful thinking."

Despite Morrigan's cheap jabs, Leliana did not fight back like the witch had been expecting. In fact, she did quiet the opposite. Her eyes opened again, glazed over, and she seized up completely. For a moment Morrigan thought she was about to have a fit, but the bard fell back into the leaves, her eyes rolling into the back of her head in a dead faint.

"You have got to be kidding me." Morrigan didn't think she could take any more. Her time of privacy had been rudely interrupted once again by the persistent bard, and although she pitied her for her situation, she did not care enough to feel any sympathy. She cared little enough, however, to feel a lot of anger.

Sounds came from the trees, footsteps rustling the leaves. Elissa and Alistair, both of whom were bright red and giggling like children, stepped into the camp.

Elissa, hair tousled and clothes put on backwards, was shocked to see an unconscious Leliana in front of Morrigan who looked angry enough to set the entire forest on fire.

Alistair was the first to speak, his clothes somehow having failed to make it back onto his body apart from his charming bright blue undergarments. "M-Morrigan, what in the hell happened?"

Elissa ran straight to Leliana, pulling her up into her lap. Motherly and tenderly, she brushed her hair from her face. As soon as her fingers touched the bard's skin, she let out a yelp. "Her temperature... its..."

"Unbalanced," Morrigan filled in. "I'm well aware, and before you blame me for this misunderstanding, know that I did nothing but help her realise her own stupid mistake. She was fighting a darkspawn magician alone and was struck with its magic before she killed it. The magic had imprinted her and she is now a mage. It is a rare occurrence, and nothing can be done about it." Tired and stiff, Morrigan let out a loud yawn and stretched out the kinks in her muscles. "Now that you know the story, I am going to bed. I bid you all goodnight."

She strode to her tent without a backward glance. She didn't care what happened to Leliana. Let her deal with the problem on her own. She could whine and carry on as much as she wanted when she came too, but it would make no difference. She was stuck as something that she hated more than anything else in the world, but she would be getting no help from the witch.

After all, was it not always the bard whom had craved a challenge?

Morning came, and Morrigan opened her eyes to the sound of shuffling footsteps at the foot of her tent. She sighed and sat up, assuming that Elissa had come to tell her that it was time to get moving again. However, as she turned her head to tell the leader that she was tired, hungry, and in no mood to be woken at such an ungodly hour, she found herself face to face with Leliana instead.

"Um, good morning Morrigan," the bard said weakly. She still looked terrible, her skin white and blotched, her hair a mess, her eyes bloodshot.

The witch turned away and collapsed back against her sleeping sack. "Go away, bard. I don't wish to humour you this early in the morning, and if it is comfort you are after because of last night's incident, then you are definitely speaking to the wrong person. I would sooner try to bring a darkspawn into bed with me. Go and snuggle up to Elissa instead... if she is not too busy with that twit Alistair, that is."

The bard sniffled pathetically. "Actually, I didn't come to bother you or ask for your comfort. I came to ask something else of you. A favour."

"A favour, is it?" Morrigan sat up again and turned to the girl, deciding that this could be amusing at least. "And what would this favour be? Hmm? What would I possibly want to do for you."

Leliana seemed to have been expecting that answer. She bowed her head and shifted her feet nervously. "Morrigan, I was wondering if... if you could..."

"Maker above, just spit it out!"

Leliana flinched. "Could you teach me how to use my magic?"

Morrigan was stricken by the question. She stared at the bard, concentrating properly on how truly dreadful she looked now. She had been crying long into the night, tears still frozen to her cheeks, and she hadn't slept either. Her eyes were ringed with charcoal smudges. She hadn't bothered to preen herself that morning either. It looked as though she had thrown on her clothes and simply stumbled out of the tent. Worst of all, though, she was swaying on the spot. She had not recovered from losing consciousness the evening before, and was probably still in shock.

Should I help her? What has she ever done for me?

Leliana seemed to understand what Morrigan was thinking and raised her hands in defence. "I know, I know, I have done nothing but annoy you and frustrate you, and I know that you do not see me as a friend, nor even an acquaintance." She ignored Morrigan's snort of laughter at the obvious statement. "However, there is no one else who can teach me how to use this magic. It is just us four, and you are the only one who has the powers of a mage... besides me, now." She lowered her head again, ashamed. "The Maker has not abandoned me, but he has given me this harsh test. It is a cruel move he has made, but I will pass this test to fall into his good graces again. I will do as much good as I can with this magic."

She still believes in her precious Maker. Morrigan was disgusted, but also admired Leliana's strength. "What good are you planning to do with your new found powers?" she asked.

The bard glanced over her shoulder and peered back at the camp. Elissa and Alistair remained asleep. "I want to protect Ferelden... and Elissa. Especially Elissa."

"You fancy her, don't you." It wasn't a question that Morrigan asked. She had seen the bard watching the woman, fury fuelling her in battle every time she saw Alistair approach the Warden. She spent every spare minute at Elissa's side, chattering away about useless things when her heart held onto the woman's every answer.

Leliana's cheeks went red. "I suppose I do fancy her, yes."

Straightening up, Morrigan thought about what good would come to her through teaching the bard how to use her magic to protect the world and her precious Elissa. Being the leader, Elissa was important to Morrigan as well, even a friend perhaps. She wanted her to be safe, and Ferelden's fate meant something to her as well, being her home.

"If I teach you, bard, you must promise to leave me alone for the rest of this journey. I don't want you pestering me about the Maker, insulting me, poking and prodding me about my past, and above all, I don't want you staring at me anymore with that wild, entranced look in your eyes! It drives me up the wall! You share the same look with me sometimes that you share with Elissa, as though I am a wild animal in line with your arrow!"

"O-of course, I will stop immediately." Leliana bowed quickly as though she were addressing a queen, her face even redder if it was possible. It made her look like a ripe tomato, especially with the matching hair.

"Mark my words, though, Leliana. I do this for the good of Ferelden and the safety of Elissa, not for you," Morrigan reminded her.

Disappointment flashed over Leliana's face, but she gathered her composure again and forced herself to smile. "So you will teach me?"

Morrigan waved a hand through the air. "I suppose so, though my lessons will be harsh, bard. I will not be holding your hand through it and babying you like a child. If you do not like my training, you do not receive it. Set yourself on fire or drown yourself for all I care. I will not put up with your complaining."

"I understand." Leliana's wish had been granted, but she remained where she was.

Morrigan growled under her breath. "What? Why do you remain?"

"Well... I was wondering." Leliana pulled at a loose thread on the hem of her thick battle skirt. "Could we maybe start training now?"