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manascoundrel · 7 years

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Trophy- Chapter 6

by Yarking Fandom: Dragon Age (general) Summery: Two troubled children meet at the Minrathous Circle. One is a magister’s heir, groomed to be the blood mage general of Seheron, without fear or mercy. Hopefully, that will keep people from noticing how very much an elf he is. The other is last born, least loved and most of his emotions involve academics and cadavers. They love each other, even if they’re not terribly good at it. Warnings for this chapter: racism AO3: here

Cato's ears pricked in their cuffs when first ushered into the smaller classroom. He paused at the door, taking in the banners of brightly painted runes that hung on the walls and the piles of black and gold pillows embroidered with the Circle's double-dragon seal. At the far wall there were tall pots of pigment and clear glass jars of vibrant paint. As he rose to his tiptoes, he could see over the edge of the table and took in the scattered reams and reams of paper.

Other apprentices in their small group filed in behind him, one shouldering him hard as she passed. He recognized her as the girl on the boat and felt surprisingly pleased. He had won their first tussle, in his opinion, and he was more than prepared to show off his skills if she needed him to prove them once more.

Cato's confidence stemmed in part from being one of the few children of his age whose magic had already grown in. He was hardly consistent or precise with it just yet, but that's what the Circle was for anyway. The fact that he could more times than not summon up a sparkling flame was good enough for him.

"Children," a man said, sitting at the front of the class with his heavy enchanter’s robes fanning out from him regally. This class' teacher, Cato assumed. "If you all would have a seat on the ground, we can begin."

"I'm not sitting on the ground like some slave," a girl- the girl- said, and Cato caught her face just in time to see how she looked to him and sneered. His initial excitement to see her trumped flared back to life with a vengeance. Cato's ears pinned so hard in their cuffs the piercings tugged painfully at the shell of his ear.

"We're all sitting on the ground," the teacher said mildly, obviously used to this little brat's brand of prissiness. "As you can see, I'm already sitting here, and I'm not a slave, am I?"

"No..." the girl admitted, sullenly.

"That's right. These pillows are here because they're more comfortable than the desks, and you can jump up and run around more easily. Doesn't that sound like more fun?" the enchanter persisted.

"Lots more fun," Cato agreed, plopping heavily onto one of the pillows and turning his wrinkled nose up at his de facto rival. She waited until the enchanter's attention was focused on one of the other students trying to get comfortable next to him for the opportunity to stick his tongue out at him.

He stuck his tongue out harder.

"I know you all are eager to demonstrate how serious and mature you can be," the enchanter said, returning his attention to the group on a whole (and, perhaps, eyes lingering on Cato just as he slurped his tongue back into his mouth). "But the greatest symptom of maturity is leaving behind the fear to appear childish."

Cato wasn't sure he knew what that was supposed to mean, but the enchanter probably knew what he was talking about, and the other apprentices all nodded solemnly, so he followed suit so as not to be thought of as dull.

The students took an impressively long time to follow the simple task of finding a place to sit and sitting, wanting to pair up with friends (allies) or sit facing away from the wall with all the windows so they didn’t have to squint through the glare, or to sit facing the window so they could look outside. Cato wiggled on his pillow, impatient at his peer's persnicketiness and chomping at the bit to begin. The only time he was addressed before the class was finally settled was being directed to back up and help form a circle with the pillows so everyone could see the enchanter with ease. Which he did with a simple scoot.

"Now," the enchanter finally began, bringing Cato from where he was miserably slumped in boredom into rapt attention. "If you look around, the other apprentices here will be very important for the next few years. They will be your lifeline if you need assistance and your Enchanters are not available to answer questions. Introducing yourself and making friends is blah blah... blah blah blah. Blah blah-"

Cato's focus roamed during the distinctly not-magic-related lecture, eyes drifting over the colorful banners again and finally coming to rest out the window, where he could see the outline of the northern wing's tower. He thought the roofing was pretty, and counted the fat little pigeons that dotted the edge.

"Would you like to begin?" the enchanter asked the student to his left, who stood with a curt nod. Cato's focus returned to the circle abruptly, worried that he had actually missed something now that the enchanter was asking something of the students.

The apprentice took a step into the circle, hands folded primly behind his back. He stated his name and house, that he liked the color blue and his favorite animal was a tiger, and that he wanted to join the Chantry when he grew up.

Oh. It was just this. The dorm master had made them all huddle around and play this game shortly after they had claimed their beds, albeit with far less success given how many more apprentices they had to corral and keep focused all at once. Cato didn't like it then, and he didn't like it now. It had nothing to do with magic, and what's more besides he didn't appreciate the way all the apprentices looked at him in polite disbelief when he said he was going to be a general and a magister.

It did, however, give him the opportunity to learn more about his arch nemesis and chief enemy. His Tamas had said that knowing who it is you're up against is very important.

The children went around the circle, giving their name and a little about themselves, and Cato's attention was realigned with his new outlook on "reconnaissance". He would take some time to remember all of their names (he was never good at that) but there were many house names that Cato could recall from the genealogy and state lessons he had been forced to sit through since he could remember. One slightly frail looking girl was from the Avaci house, a Magisterial house that represented a large section of the farmlands to the south of Minrathous. An old and wildly wealthy house that commanded respect that didn't seem reflected in her skinny and tremulous form.

Cato's brow knit, and he sat up straighter with his chin high and proud. If it was possible that such a house could produce such an... uninspiring progeny, that means his family's name alone couldn't convey its actual impressiveness. He'd have to demonstrate the fierceness and worthiness of his house himself and reflect well on it, just as Tamas would expect.

The girl- his enemy- stood. "My name as Amali, heir to house Vesta, and-"

Cato blinked, no longer listening. He had heard that house before, but where did not come immediately to mind. It wasn't one of the major contenders in the senate, that he was sure of. The list of houses on par or greater in power, strength or reputation he had learned at nearly the same time he had learned how to say his own name. In the Imperium, it was extremely important to know who you could not afford to insult under any circumstance.

It pleased Cato immediately to know she was not among them.

But who was she? What was that house? Cato wracked his brain, circling down the ladder of social importance and the corresponding names he had memorized until the house reared it's ugly head.

That was a Laetens house. Cato felt at once gleeful. Of course she was so keen on kicking down at him when she thought he was a slave. So low was she on the pecking order she probably didn't have anyone else she thought was fair game to prey on, and wanted to prove herself as not one to be taken lightly.

Well then.

Cato stood swiftly as the last apprentice folded back into a sit beside him, chin up and eyes shut in proud disinterest.

"I'm Cato of the Altus house Fen'Rhea, and I'm going to be a magister-" a soft murmur of disbelief, as expected, and he quickly continued, "Like my tamas- that means mother- Euphia Fen'Rhea."

The disbelief warped, still unbelieving but this time with a undercurrent of tension and worry. His Tamas was a force to be reckoned with, and no doubt the other apprentices didn't expect him to come from someone so fierce and dangerous and strong and great. Cato positively preened with the attention, usually not caring from the esteem of his peers but pleased that he was finally being treated with the respect that he- and more importantly his family- had deserved. His tamas had earned that; she didn't go off and hunt down all those oxmen for her son to be pegged as a slave just because his ears were pointed.

"I'm going to learn blood magic and fight Qunari so we're safe and they know they can't pick on us because we'll run them off because we're stronger and better."

Cato paused, caught off guard by the sudden strain in the atmosphere. The other apprentices were watching him now with a mix of concern and fear and, on the bolder mageling, cold rejection. Cato prickled at the sudden shift, swaying his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably.

"You're going to try and enter into the Circle-approved maleficarum program for soldiers, then?" the enchanter clarified for him, graciously.

"Yeah?" Cato said, unsure now that the faces around him seemed to wall him with icy mistrust. "That's the right way to do it, cos otherwise it's illegal."

"My papa says if you use blood magic it's cos your magic isn't strong enough by itself."

Cato whipped his head towards the source of the words, surprised that the insult wasn't lobbed by the Laetens girl but instead some lower Altus boy with a mean face. The piercings in Cato's ear cuffs tugged as his ears pulled against their binding.

"Apprentice Quinto, that was not an appro-" the enchanter began sternly, but Cato was having none of it.

"That's not true! It's just a tool to make your magic even stronger, that's why people do it. My tamas would learn everything she could in order to protect ungratefully kids like you and she does it the right way with the Archon saying she can cos she's so strong and good at it and in control. And I'm going to do it like she did so you can just shut your mouth cos my magic is stronger than yours anyway! You probably can't even cast anything yet."

Cato ended his words by sticking his tongue out again.

"Apprentice Fen'Rhea," the enchanted said, voice low. "Sit down."

"But I wasn't done-"

"Sit."

The rumors whispered between children and the enchanter's disapproval turned Cato's cheeks bright pink. He sat, trying not to think of how he was being commanded like a dog (or a slave) and made to be quiet just for defending his house's reputation and ways. He stewed, cross-legged and twisted mouth, nearly vibrating at the injustice of it all.

"What you said before..."

Cato jumped, surprised at the boy beside him whispering over as the other apprentices were slowly worked through. Cato leaned forward, waiting for clarification.

"Does that mean you can cast magic already?"

"Uh huh," Cato nodded.

"What, really? Naw, you're lying."

"You wanna see?"

"Fine then, yeah! Prove it!"

Cato leaned back, nose wrinkling again, this time in concentration. He wasn't very good at this yet, that was true. His aim had always been atrocious when he practiced setting the little straw dummies on fire in the field behind his estate. To be fair though, most of that was probably from being distracted by Aunny cheering for the dummy.

"Alright then," Cato said in a low whisper, determined to prove just how much magic was already coursing through his blood. In defense of his family's honor, so often besmirched in this Circle filled with dumb, whiny kids who didn't know anything anyway, at the very least. "You just watch me!"

"And that's how it happened," Cato finished, still looking down at the ground, the Enchanter's admonishment stinging more than the burns still left on his hands. One of the Circle healer took his other palm and worked his mana into Cato's blistered skin, shaking his head as he did so.

"Apprentice Fen'Rhea, you set three other people one fire," the dorm master reminded him, clearly unmoved by Cato's story of grand injustice and his attempt to defend his family's name.

"And a pillow," the enchanter amended, looking disappointed.

"And a pillow," the dorm master confirmed, solemnly.

"Well I tried to put it out!" Cato said in his defense, whimpering sharply when the healer touched the burn tentatively. "I only meant to singe the boy's hair a little, I didn't think it'd be so big, and I definitely didn't think he's start yelling and running around like a cow being chased by a dragon."

The Dorm master looked down on him sternly, clearly unamused by the image. "And look where that got you."

Cato lowered his head, defeated. He hadn't liked the boy, but it was true that he hadn't meant for things to get out of hand.

The enchanter sighed and stepped forward. "Let me handle this. He was my responsibility."

The dorm master gave Cato one final look over and relented. "I have to make sure Quinto will heal. Send the lad back to the dormitories after you're done with him."

With a great sweep of his wide robes, the dorm master was gone, and Cato was left with just the healer and his disgruntled enchanted.

"I'm sorry," Cato finally offered, head slung low and miserable.

The enchanter turned his attention back to Cato and considered him for a long moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully with his palm, and seemed to come to a resolution with a sigh. When he spoke, his words were the sedated calm he used at the beginning of the class, and it sounded like forgiveness. "Apprentice Fen'Rhea, mastering your own mind and emotions is the first step in becoming a strong mage, like your... tamas. Part of that is not letting your temper dictate your choices, or else your magic will never match how potent it could be."

Cato looked up then, not quite meeting the enchanter's eye but feeling bolstered by the teacher using the Seheron term- his family's term- with legitimacy. He asked, not disbelieving but genuinely curious, "Why?"

The enchanter laughed, stepping forward and feeling more personable now, more kind, and Cato turned to it like a sunflower. "Well, the details of that were going to be at the end of this class' activity, but I think we got a little distracted."

"I'm sorry," Cato repeated again, feeling sore. He had already said he was sorry, what else was there to do?

Perhaps sensing Cato's regret, the enchanted places a hand on his head affectionately. "I was planning on having to repeat the concept next class anyway. Magic is about focusing your will and concentrating your intention into action. The reason most mages your age can't cast yet is in part because they don't have the control necessary. You do have a gift in being able to make fire even being so young, but that comes with the responsibility to when to use it."

"But they were insulting Tamas! My family!" Cato argued, a burst of fury inside him just remembering their words.

"And do you think your actions today more proved them wrong, or right?"

That, more than the burn, hurt. Cato's lip quivered for a moment before he steeled himself and pushed down the feeling. He wouldn't cry. "They all keep looking at me like I'm bad."

The Enchanter's face was hard to read. "Apprentice Fen'Rhea," he started, carefully. "You're a very unusual child. Like you are gifted for having magic, you also are very fortunate in the house you were born in, given you are... well, there are not many lines of elves that make something of themselves in the Imperium. You need to be prepared for the other children to not know what to make of you, and dismiss you out of hand."

"That's not fair," Cato said quietly.

"Well," the enchanter said, abundant patience and benevolence steeping his voice. "It's not really their fault when so many elves have proven time and again to be incapable of providing for the Imperium at the same level as humans do. Remember, you are the exception to that rule, and that means the other apprentices can't be expected to assume you're as competent as they are."

Cato's lips twisted into a frown. "But I am! You just saw that I am, cos I could-"

"I just saw a very angry elfling set many of my apprentices on fire on accident because he was being prideful," the enchanted said, picture of reasonable as his hand fell away. "Instead, appreciate the opportunities that you have been presented with, instead of demanding respect from people when you, as an elf, haven't yet earned it. You have the chance to ascend like no other of your kind gets. Be grateful for that."

#dragon age #trophy #yarking writes #racism tw #setting people on fire but not really on purpose :/

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