Archive of Our Own

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Haleira’s grip on her mother’s hand tightened as another violent coughing fit tore through Ellana’s frail body. Each cough sent tremors through her mother’s form, blood darkening Ellana’s lips, yet Haleira held on—she would not let go, no matter the whispers swirling behind her back. They said her mother was dying, that Ellana was taking her last breaths, that she was about to leave her seven‐year‐old daughter alone.“Another mouth someone else has to care for. What a nuisance,” a hushed voice sneered from the shadows, but Haleira paid it no mind—if she tried, the pain would only multiply. Clan Lavellan had never been kind to her; they loved Ellana, but they despised Haleira. Ever since she was born with silver hair and silver eyes, so unlike her mother and long-departed father, the murmurs began. “Cursed child,” they whispered. And after Ellana fell ill and her body began to deteriorate in the blink of an eye, the blame fell on Haleira—the cursed child who had cursed her own mother.“Hale…” Ellana managed to wheeze out, her voice more a rattling plea than a spoken word. In that moment, the room fell silent. Haleira fought the rising tide of tears; they gathered unbidden at the corners of her eyes. “Yes, mae?” she whispered, voice trembling.“Ir abelas, Hale. For not being there to see you grow into a beautiful woman. Ma’ da’evune. My little moon, spun from the rays of the moon itself. Forgive this mother for leaving you behind. But you are strong—so, so strong. I know you will be, even without me. So, don’t cry, yes? Smile for me, please, one last time. Can you do that?” Ellana’s voice, once soft and soothing, now came out as a croaking echo of its former self.Haleira wanted nothing more than to beg her mother to stay, but that secret longing remained locked in the depths of her heart. Accustomed as she was to being called a brat whenever she grew whiny, she forced a smile through the tears that streamed down her round cheeks. Ellana smiled back—a faint echo of the radiant smile she once possessed. “Ar lath ma…” she breathed one final time before her eyes closed, and she never opened them again.In that instant, Haleira’s fragile smile shattered. She released the hand and wrapped her arms around her mother’s still-warm body, crying out in anguish. No one dared stop her; however much they despised her, they respected the raw grief that consumed her.After a long, agonizing while, a warm hand rested on her shoulder—a familiar, tender touch. “Hale,” came the soft, gentle voice meant solely for her. “I understand your grief, but we must bury her. You don’t want to attract the Keeper’s attention, do you?”With a shaky sniff, Haleira reluctantly released her mother’s body and turned to face Amatisha, whose sorrowful eyes radiated kindness. Amatisha, one of Clan Lavellan’s mages—more talented than even their First—had known hardship too. Like Haleira, she was despised, but unlike the seven‐year‐old, Amatisha was twenty‐three, an adult who cared little for the clan’s cruel opinions. Haleira admired that defiant strength and secretly longed to be like her someday. In no time, Amatisha had taken her under her wing, becoming the only ally and sister she had ever known. Haleira nodded weakly, understanding all too well the terror of the Keeper—a man who had inflicted punishment upon her before.Taking Amatisha’s offered hand, Haleira let herself be led out of the tent. Outside, Amatisha crouched down to meet her eyes. Gently, she stroked Haleira’s head. “I’ll keep her keepsake safe for you. Over the years, my hands have become quite…sticky,” she said with a tender grin. After wiping away the lingering tears, she pressed a soft kiss to the crown of Haleira’s head before returning to the others.The next day, they carried Ellana’s body to the hallowed ground reserved for Clan Lavellan’s burials—a familiar graveyard they had traveled to long before her end was near. As was tradition, Ellana was laid to rest with an oaken staff to guide her along the paths of the Beyond, and a cedar branch to scatter Dirthamen’s ravens, Fear and Deceit—a ritual Amatisha whispered about softly as the funeral unfolded. A young tree was planted upon her grave, destined to grow and bloom from her memory. Throughout the ceremony, Haleira wept uncontrollably, and only Amatisha’s delicate, warm hand kept her from crying aloud. They kept their distance from the others to avoid drawing the clan’s disdain.When the funeral ended, the Keeper spoke a few measured words, invoking Falon'Din. For a heartbeat, Amatisha’s grip tightened and her face twisted in a moment of hate and fear—only to smooth away as quickly as it came. Soon, all the other clan members had departed, leaving only Amatisha and Haleira. Evening drew near, yet Haleira remained at her mother’s grave, her grief as endless as the falling night.“Hale, I have something for you.”Amatisha’s voice broke through the silence like a soft command, drawing Haleira from her vacant stare. Slowly, Haleira lifted her head and met her older sister’s gentle gaze—an emptiness tugging at her heart. Amatisha extended her hand, and dangling from it was the necklace that once belonged to her mother. It was a simple leather cord adorned with a silver design reminiscent of a halla’s horns—a cherished gift from her father to Ellana, now the only remnant of a once-whole family.Haleira accepted the necklace with trembling fingers, tucking it quickly into her pocket as if afraid it might vanish or be stolen. Amatisha’s smile was sorrowful. “You don’t want to wear it?”Haleira shook her head, her hands wringing with nervous energy. “They’ll say I stole it. Mae never wore it openly.”Amatisha hummed thoughtfully. “I understand. Then we’ll make sure no one sees it, alright?”Hand in hand, they left—but misfortune clung to Haleira like a shadow.A few weeks later, something within Haleira stirred unexpectedly. Her magic awakened in a burst of raw energy as she shoved aside another child—one who had tugged at her hair until pain exploded through her scalp. In that sudden moment, it felt as if electricity crackled inside her, building an unbearable pressure until it finally burst forth. The explosion of power left the other child burned severely, and with that, Haleira discovered her nature: she was a mage, just like her older sister.In that fleeting moment, she felt joy, a wild, uncontainable delight—until the adults arrived. Amatisha, too, was there, but her face was not lit with happiness. Instead, it was contorted in horror and shock. When the aggrieved parents of the injured child stormed in demanding punishment, Amatisha stepped forward, shielding Haleira fiercely.“You may be a powerful mage,” spat the mother, venom lacing every syllable, “but even you can’t protect her from this!”Amatisha stood firm, her eyes hard as she countered, “She just discovered her magic—it was a reflex, a defense mechanism. It wasn’t intentional, and it will heal. This is mage business now, so—fuck off.”Something golden sparked in her eyes, fierce anger radiating from every word. The couple before them shrank back, retreating into silence. “Amatisha, that is not for you to decide. We will discuss what will happen next. And what did I say about that foul mouth of yours?” The Keeper’s cold voice sliced through the turmoil, and Haleira felt a jolt of fear as he clicked his tongue. The golden hue vanished from Amatisha’s gaze, replaced by white-knuckled resolve as she gritted out her agreement.Then, everything happened too fast—a blur for Haleira. Before she could comprehend the rapid turns of fate, a pack was thrust into her arms, containing new, proper clothes and a secret gift from Amatisha: a book on magic. Haleira looked up, meeting Amatisha’s tear-streaked face as they knelt together. “I am so sorry, Hale. I tried to convince them, but my opinion means nothing here. And they won’t let me come with you,” Amatisha murmured, her voice thick with regret.Haleira’s bottom lip trembled. “What do you mean? Where do I go?”After closing her eyes for a moment, Amatisha continued in a hushed tone, “We have too many mages. In Dalish clans, there must be balance—a place or task for everyone. We have too many, and no way to give you to another clan. Istimaethoriel has decided to cast you out, to send you off alone...”Haleira’s face drained of color as her hands cramped around the pack. They were casting her out—throwing her away like trash because she was a mage. But if there were other mages, why was only she being abandoned?“C-Cast out? Me? Alone? Why? Why can’t I stay? Why can’t you come with me, asa’ma’lin? Don’t leave me! Not you too! I—I can’t do this without you, Tisha!” Her voice grew hysterical and weepy, each word a desperate plea. How had it come to this? How could they do this?Amatisha’s tears flowed freely as she replied, “I can’t. I am bound to this place in ways you can’t even understand. And if I leave with you, they…,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “they’d hurt you, da’evune. I can’t let that happen. You have to go—survive. Use the book; it will help you gain control over your magic, I promise. I’ll find you again, I promise! Go to one of the cities. We’re in Antiva now—Treviso should be close. Try to make it there, and I’ll come for you.” She cupped Haleira’s face, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “Stay alive, sathan.”Before Haleira could answer, Amatisha was pulled away, and soon Haleira herself was led into the forest—far from the clan, far from the life she once knew. She tried to follow the hunters who had taken her, but after two fruitless days, she gave up. Instead, she clung to memories of her mother’s lessons about the north. Amatisha had even hidden a map within the magic book—a map that Haleira could not decipher. The forest stretched on endlessly, a sea of darkness and uncertainty.In those long, sleepless days, Haleira learned to fear the shadows. Nightmares plagued her dreams—of dead parents, of Amatisha never returning, of evil spirits dragging her away into a darkness that would never let her go. She was too young to build a fire or wield her magic with certainty, and the terror of the night became her constant companion.The days in the forest seemed endless—a nightmare incarnate. When Haleira finally stumbled into Treviso, she was nothing like the bright, hopeful child she once was. Her body had withered from hunger and exhaustion; her clothes were ragged and worn, and even her emotions had nearly faded into numbness. All that kept her moving was the promise that Amatisha would find her someday—and the steely, desperate will to survive. Yet Treviso, too, was not truly her home. Haleira was too scared and too young to leave and seek another refuge, so she stayed and invented means to survive.In time, the frightened, helpless girl learned that if she wished to live, she couldn’t afford to weep and sulk. She began to do whatever was necessary—stealing, scavenging for food, creeping through dark alleyways, even fighting other children or wild animals. Eventually, she carved out a little hideout in one of the abandoned boats docked along the canal. No one used the boat anymore, and Haleira’s newfound skills in stealth made her almost invisible. For two long years, she eked out a meager existence. It wasn’t a good life—nor a healthy one. She grew thin and dirty; her once-silver hair dulled to a lifeless gray, and her eyes stared back at her hollowly when she caught her reflection in the canal’s water. Most of her belongings were gone—sold, stolen, or lost along the way. Even the magic book Amatisha had given her had vanished. And her sister, who once promised to come for her, never did.At nine years old, Haleira had long ceased to expect rescue. Perhaps Amatisha had died, or maybe she never cared. Maybe, in some cruel twist, Amatisha was even glad to finally be rid of the “annoying child.” All that remained of her family was the necklace of Ellana—her mother—which Haleira guarded fiercely, the one keepsake that held her together.One evening, while navigating the bustling Trevisan market with the cunning of a street-wise pickpocket, Haleira—now adept at blending into the crowd—spied a man she’d never seen before: young, perhaps in his early twenties, with tanned skin, a hint of beard, and curly hair that fell just past his chin. He was human, dressed in dark blue tinged with purple, and he exuded an aura of danger. Not that Haleira cared about danger anymore. The shy, little elven girl was long gone. Two years of survival had steeled her; even her magic—wild and untaught—had begun to favor her. She had outsmarted many grown-ups already, and this one would be no different, she was sure.After making sure no one was watching, she trailed him, employing bits of her fledgling magic to distract his senses for precious seconds—a trick that had saved her more times than she cared to count. She waited for a crowd to thicken around him, confident that in the chaos he wouldn’t notice her. But as fate would have it, he always seemed to slip away just when she thought she’d finally caught him. Still, her ambition was undeterred, burning fiercely. When he finally merged into a throng of market-goers, Haleira vanished into the mass, weaving between bodies, alternating her routes so that his keen eyes wouldn’t catch her approach.At last, she spied his coin pouch dangling from his belt. Just as she reached out to snatch it, he turned his head. In that split second, her magic flared—a quick sidestep, a desperate move to hide behind a stranger. For a heartbeat, she thought he had seen her. His piercing gaze searched, then slowly faded as he stepped beside another woman. Seizing the moment, Haleira plucked the pouch from his belt and darted away, slipping through the crowd with every ounce of speed. She ran—corner after corner, direction after direction—until the thrill of escape slowly faded.“That was close… and yet, so easy,” she muttered under her breath. “How could he not notice? What an idiot,” she whispered to herself. But she was so wrong. She was the idiot.“I beg to differ, little elf,” came a deep, warm voice that stopped her in her tracks.Haleira didn’t have time to think; she bolted. But it was too late—the man’s strong grip had already seized her by the shirt, lifting her to eye level. She thrashed, kicking and clawing. “Let me go!” she yelled.“Very well,” he replied in a tone that was both amused and gentle, releasing her abruptly. Haleira tumbled to the hard ground, her face meeting the pavement with a painful thud. She cried out, then quickly turned onto her back, rubbing her scraped face as anger and embarrassment warred inside her. “That hurt!” she complained, glaring up at his handsome features. He held his pouch in his hand and, for a brief moment, the surprise in her eyes shifted into fierce indignation.“How did you—” she began, but he only smirked, crossing his arms. His smirk was laced with a sinister edge, sending a shiver down her spine.“Bold of you to steal from a Crow, don’t you think, little elf? Bold, even admirable, but in the end… stupid,” he said coolly.Haleira’s face drained of color. A Crow—one of the notorious Antivan Crows, feared assassins who answered to no king—had just called himself that. In the two years she’d survived on the streets, she had learned much about them, and now, having stolen from one, she felt the weight of her mistake.Yet, she refused to show weakness. If this assassin intended to kill her, so be it. She would face it head-on, even if it meant reuniting with her long-lost mother in death. Still, her trembling legs betrayed her, her body shaking with suppressed fear.Swallowing her terror, Haleira lifted her chin and retorted, “Everyone needs to eat. I’d do it all over again—if I could, without getting caught.”The man’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Feisty, even when caught red-handed. I’ll admit, your attempt was not half-bad for a street urchin. You just had the wrong opponent.”“If you want to kill me, then do it! I’m not afraid of you!” she hissed, forcing her voice to sound braver than she felt.He raised his eyebrows further, a twitch appearing at the corner of his mouth. “For not being afraid, you certainly tremble a lot, wouldn’t you say?”Embarrassment flushed her cheeks a deep shade of pink. Despite everything, Haleira was learning that even in desperation, pride could be a shield."They always do that!" she barked, her voice snapping with defiance as she glared up at him. He merely snorted in response, his eyes glittering with mischief. With a swift push, she hauled herself off the ground and stared him straight in the eye. She could feel it—the surge of her magic manifesting in the tiny sparks of lightning dancing along her fingertips. Panicked, she quickly tucked her hands behind her back, but the knowing glint in his eyes told her he had seen every crackling spark."A mage child, huh? You have guts, I'll give you that, little urchin," he drawled, amusement lacing his tone."Don't call me that!" she snapped. He responded with another snort—or perhaps a huff—and then, tilting his head, he asked, "How old are you, girl?" His gaze roved over her from head to toe, and a cold shiver raced down her spine, causing her to instinctively step back.Still, she answered, uncertain why but knowing she must. "I'm nine."At that, any trace of amusement vanished from his face, replaced by an emotion she couldn’t quite place. "Nine? You don’t look older than six. Girl, when did you even have a proper meal last time?" he asked, his tone both solemn and curious. She puffed out her cheeks defiantly. "I am nine! And I ate... three days ago. Why do you care?"In that moment, as she saw the flicker of pity—and something else—in his eyes, anger surged within her. "You know... I could get you punished for stealing, little one," he continued, his voice carrying a dangerous promise."Do it. It’s nothing I haven’t endured already," she retorted, her voice steady despite the tremor in her heart.Suddenly, he knelt in the moonlight, and the soft glow revealed his face more clearly. "What is your name?" His tone brooked no refusal."Haleira," she replied, meeting his steady gaze.He cocked his head slightly. "Is that Elvhen? What does it mean?" he inquired, genuine curiosity mingling with the night air.Though suspicious of his interest, she answered again. "Snow fox.""Mhm. Is that so? You remind me of a little Rook, to be honest," he said with a gentle, wry smile that made her frown in confusion. What was it about him that made everything seem so contradictory?"Haleira," he said more softly, leaning in as though confiding a secret, "what would you say if I offered you a way of survival? I see many children on these streets, their eyes empty—lifeless. Not yours. You have determination, defiance, the will to survive, no matter the cost. A child of nine who doesn’t run from me, who shows no fear despite knowing exactly who I am. What do you think of becoming a Crow, little fox?"For a heartbeat, her eyes widened, round as saucers. Then he extended his hand and smiled—a warm, inviting smile that made her heart skip. Could it be? Could someone actually want her? A Crow? Her? She looked away, struggling to steady her racing thoughts."But I'm a mage and an elf, aren't those things hated?" she challenged, her voice small yet defiant.He clicked his tongue dismissively. "Nonsense. Mages can be Crows too. We don’t discriminate between mages and non-mages, nor do we care what race you are, little one. I promise you—I'll find you a teacher, give you the proper education, training, and a place to sleep and enough food to keep you fed. So... what do you say? Do you want to leave this sorrowful, decrepit life behind and use it for something worthwhile? Become a better version of what you could be?"She didn’t understand every word he spoke, but above all she knew what he was offering—a home. That was all she had ever wanted: a place to call home."What do I need to do?" she asked, her voice trembling with cautious hope.He laughed—a deep, resonant sound that seemed to warm the cool night. "A lot. This is not a gift. It's an opportunity.""For what?" she pressed, curiosity piqued despite herself."To overcome weakness," he replied simply.Before she could speak further, Haleira took his outstretched hand. His calloused hand was warm—so warm—and she wondered how long it had been since she’d felt another’s warmth."Warm," she whispered, the single word laden with meaning. For a moment, surprise lit his eyes, and the smile he returned was gentle, entirely different from before. "I'll come with you," she declared softly.His smile deepened. "Welcome to House de Riva," he said, rising but never letting go of her hand."You didn't say your name!" she chided, a pout tugging at her lips.He blinked and laughed loudly, his head tilting back slightly as she scowled. "Excuse my rudeness. I am Viago de Riva. Let's go home, little Rook."