The lyrium, the thing that was the bane and reason of my existence. The stone-like substance flowed through my heart and soul. An illegal mage, they say. A witch who’ll curse and kill us all.
My hand was trembling as I examined the continued decaying growth. Looking like a powder clung to my skin, I’d tried to get rid of it. Long ago, and I even tried to burn it off. It only resulted in seeing my pale skin darken and char.
It grew, slowly consuming me as I used a spell. Every time I used one, it continued to envelop my body. A brilliant blue glow consuming my otherwise normal skin easily. Fenris, my brother, was covered in darkened markings. They aided him.
I would be the same soon, consumed by gnarled, twisty branches of blue. It looked like a shimmering ink, drawn on as war paint. I’d been shipped when it was discovered I was a mage. Now, the pattern over my heart grew as did one from my left palm, my staff hand.
I just hoped Fenris could help. A slave, used and abused it seemed from his uneasy composure around people who made it obvious they were to be trusted. Hawke, the leader of the posse, would anger him on occasion, but the respect was palpable. They worked together well, and would be important in future days.
Brushing my white-blond hair from my face, I smile softly. Trailing the man I’d been told was my brother, I watched him. Jumping down from the roof top, I follow him, my slender figure covered by a dress and cloak. When he turns around, I pull my hood off and meet his green eyes with my own.
I am Varania, sister of Fenris.
I remember when I first started getting the fading tattoos on my skin. It started out as a small mark between my breasts. It looked like a freckle, and I’d thought it was a mark from my master.
I’d been a slave for much of my early life. I found that on occasion small accidents would occur, leaving small traces of blue dust. My master at the time had blamed me to be a witch, and rightfully so.
After months of concentration, I noticed in a mirror, a blossoming flower on my bosom. Having inspected my bare, still damp body. I’d seen the small tracings, almost like veins running about my then caramel toned skin.
As the weeks progressed, my confusion did as well. My smooth skin was coated in wide, barely noticeable ridges where the tattoo like markings were at. As I continued my stealthy approach to learning magic, it occurred to me what caused these markings.
Looking around and through my things, I began to pack everything into a small pouch. I remembered my brother, but nothing more than I had one. Late that night, I snuck out.
Heading to the nearest safe spot, my black cloak covered my bright colored hair and brilliant green eyes. After discovered a relative location, I went to search for him.
I finally found him.