AN: I don't own Dragon Age, or World of Warcraft.

Chapter 1: Born Alone, Raised Together

9:10 Dragon, Somewhere on the road to Lake Calenhad

"Magic exists to serve man. Never to rule over him." Those were the words that had been drilled into his head since he was taken. Since he was taken from his mother. The men in the armor, they'd taken him. Torn him from his mother's arms with no chance of saying goodbye, no hope of seeing her again. All because of his magic. As the eight year old boy lay on the hard ground, curling so as to keep himself warm he cried, trying to think of a happier place. They had been on the road for a week now, the cold Ferelden weather slowing them down on the trek to the Tower. The boy cupped his hands together blowing into them. Light and warmth ignited in his small hands, a small magical fire illuminating his shadowed features. Slightly pale skin, cracked lips shivering in the cold. Icy blue eyes once full of warmth now clenched shut, his short chestnut colored hair lightly capped with snow, small red lightly pointed ears hinting to his half-elven heritage. The boy shivered still even as the small fire provided what warmth it could. As he laid there, his body cold and stiff he felt sleep pull at him, a sleep unlike any he had since felt before. A shiver passed through him, somehow freezing his already freezing form as his mind slipped from him. Eyes relaxed before shooting open, the young boy blinked several times as he suddenly found himself standing upright, the ground under him and the world around him capped in darkness. He turned, looking all around him yet seeing nothing.

"Your name." The Halfling spun, searching for the source of the voice but yet again coming up empty handed.

"Who's there?" the young boy asked, his voice shaking slightly. He remembered this place, although it looked different he knew this is where the monsters came from.
"Give me your name young one." The voice spoke again, the sound echoing across the abyss. "And I shall give you mine." The boy hesitated, the monsters always wanted his name, always asked and bargained for it only for him to reject them all. But this voice was… different somehow. No anger laced it, no contempt or lust drove its question.

"Roth Surana." The boy answered finally. Silence answered him. A touch on the shoulder jolted Roth into action. He leapt away from the presence he now felt behind him. Summoning what little of his gift he could to dissuade the creature from attacking. She, for the form the spirit had taken was most certainly female, eyed the young Halfling curiously, glowing eyes catching sight of the torrent of magic that surrounded the weakened boy.

'Powerful.' The being thought as she observed, 'Very powerful. He would have grown to be a force to be reckoned with.' She 'frowned' as he searched his mind, seeing the words the Templars had drilled into the youth. She had seen the acts enforced upon the magi of this world. So unlike those of her own, and now her stood this boy, his magic strong, overpowering even at his young age. 'I can see why she mentioned him.' The spirit bowed to the boy, smiling motherly as more and more of her features became visible.

"Well met Roth. I am Danamacil." She announced. Roth eyed the spirit up and down taking note of the robes that was beginning to form over her.
"What do you want?" he asked, his magic calming.

"You are dying child." He flinched, unprepared for the blunt declaration but made no move to deny it. "The Templars have done little to help you in your situation. You will be dead by the morn."

"Unless…" the boy continued, his magic coiling around him like a viper, prepared to strike. The spirit laughed, a soft melodious sound, amused by the youth.

"So sharp a mind you have." She allowed, before her eyes sharpened, "But yes, you will die unless you accept what I offer you. A gift, something that will make you stronger."

"The other monsters offered that too." Roth shot back quickly. The spirit nodded, her body's glow dying down before disappearing entirely. Roth blinked as he looked at the remarkably human spirit. Her face was dark and freckled, her golden eyes peering at him kindly from a curtain of blond and crimson locks. At her back a simple brown staff, her form covered in red and purple robes. "True. But I am no monster." She said, kneeling down to the boy's level. "I was a Warlock, a mage, like you. I summoned forces some might consider dark and used them for the Light. My offer to you is my strength, my magic. I will give you my skills and I shall teach you in them. This is what I offer you, young Roth."

Roth hesitated, his magic dissipating into the air. He shouldn't trust her, his father told him never to trust any of the monsters he met while sleeping. But no matter how he tried, no matter how he looked at her, he didn't see a monster.

"Why?" he asked, stepping forward to the woman. "Why would you want to save me?"

Danamacil chuckled lightly, "I was told you needed help. So here I am helping." She reached out to him, waiting for him to take it. "I should warn you however. Should you accept, and join my magic to your own, it will hurt." The boy looked at her outstretched hand for a moment before taking it. The woman smiled as his small fingers curled around her had as a child would with their mother. "I give you my strength Roth Surana. May the two of us reshape the world." The dark world turned suddenly to light, blinding the young mage. Then the pain came. He screamed, his body burning as their magic danced and twisted together. Then the young mage lost consciousness. Leaving only Danamacil as she cradled him.

Roth groaned as he opened his eyes to the sight of a large and unfamiliar ceiling. He turned his head, taking the multiple beds that lay across the room he was in, some holding occupants, some not. One thing he noticed about each of the occupants was the blue haze that hung around them.

"Magi. Like you." The boy jumped when he heard Danamacil's sudden voice, he turned his head to see her there, standing at beside his bed, invisible and cut off from all physical contact if the robed woman walking through her was anything to go by. "Speak with your thoughts and I shall hear them." Roth blinked idly noting that the robed woman had said something to him before walking off, most likely to tell whomever was in charge of his recovery.

'It worked it take it?' he asked. The mage spirit nodded, "Yes although there were a few… side effects of the act." She allowed, smiling guiltily. "I've never come across a half-elf in my travels in life, and I've only had to mix my magic with beings of pure mana. Never before have I done so with another." Roth blinked as he did a quick check to see everything was in its right place. "You won't be growing any tails or the like but the blood of your mother was far stronger than that of your father." Before he could ask what she meant images flashed before his eyes. His hair once short had grown and was dark as the night, his eyes like coals. His once lightly pointed ears now stuck up through his hair, and a good inch or two above his head.

"The Templars assumed you attempted to cast some spell in the night although they know no spell that could have caused your change."She turned, ethereal eyes looking over the mages. 'What's that haze?' the boy thought, his black eyes searching.

"Magic. The haze is the inherent magic that makes a Mage what they are." She waved a hand, the air rippling at the action. "You are currently at the Circle of Magi. Here you will be taught the ways of magic, learn to protect yourself against the demons of the Fade and more, all while you are forced under the boot heel of the Templars." Roth blinked as he tilted his head in confusion, giving the room a quick look over.

'Not a good place to be then?' He clarified, receiving a nod from the spirit. Roth pushed himself upwards, wincing lightly as pain pricked at him.

"We will have to converse in greater depth later. For now, listen" and like that she was gone, her form blowing away in the wind. Roth blinked as he noted the man that he hadn't noticed before, most likely because he was focused on Danamacil. He was old, his sink wizened, warm brown eyes looking at the Halfling warmly, like a father would look at one of his own. His hair long and gray, a short beard covering his lower face. Roth blinked, taking in the rather simple green robes he wore. He walked with a slight limp, using a staff to support himself.

"So you are the child I have heard so much of?" the man questioned, his voice while gentle still echoed with something else. "What might your name be then?" Roth shuffled nervously, before replying.

"Roth Surana, sir." The old man chuckled warmly, adjusting himself on his staff as he did so.

"My such manners for one so young!" he praised, amusement twinkling in his brown eyes. "You need not fear me my lad. I mean you no harm. I am Irving, First Enchanter of the Circle of Magi," He gestured to the walls around him with a hand. "It is here you will learn to control the gift you have been given." Irving smiled as he held out a wizened hand, a small flame sprouting within it. "What do you know of magic child?"

Roth hesitated before speaking, "Mother told me lots about it. Said to guard myself from the monsters." He held out a hand, willing his magic forth. What happened was something only Danamacil expected. In her time she was a powerful Warlock, regarded as a prodigy among her peers and a force of untold destruction to her enemies. Given her magical strength and the boy's own magical aptitude it was no surprise when the boy had inadvertently summoned more magic in his one small demonstration than most magi do in the entirety of their lives. Wind rippled through the room, throwing nearly everyone off balance, Irving himself was only saved by the summoning a magical barrier on ingrained instinct. When all settled, every person in the large infirmary found their eyes drawn to the boy. Above his hand crackled a shining orb of electricity, the size of a large pumpkin. Irving looked at the young boy, eyes wide and disbelieving. He could feel the power thrumming in the orb, barely restrained by the boy's will. The old mage smiled warmly, reaching out a hand over the orb before with minor difficulty quelling the magic.

"Well well," he chuckled, smiling at the youth, "You know quite a bit I would assume then?" Roth shook his head, his dark hair dancing as he did.

"Not really, I just do what comes naturally." He explained, "My power has always been like this." Irving nodded once, his wizened visage unreadable by the youth. "Well you have potential, and a certain level of mastery over your gift. Here we you'll be able to increase that." The old mage stood his face crinkling as he smiled. "I look forward to seeing the mage you turn out to be." With that he turned and left, leaving the Halfling alone with the multitude of eyes that were focused on him. A quick glance revealed that nearly every Templar had tensed at the display of magic. Roth sighed, scratching his head and avoiding all eye contact.

"Quite the demonstration." Danamacil teased, her ethereal form appearing seated next to her charge. She reached out ruffling the youth's hair. "Get some rest. We will begin your road down the path of the Warlock later."

Four years later

9:14 Dragon, Deep within the Fade

Roth sighed as he walked through the fiery archway. Paying no mind to the multitude of floating rocks and land masses that he had long since gotten used to. His time in the circle had been one that while not the best certainly wasn't the worst it could have been. Sure there was the occasional Templar who pushed him and other mages around but he didn't really mind. Greagoir, the Knight-Commander of the Templars at the circle, was an ass but in the end he meant well and there were few injustices that went overlooked under his watch. He had even made a few friends in his time at the circle. One of them being a teen by the name of Jowan, he was a shy boy to be sure, and he oft had trouble in conjuring magic though he was five years Roth's senior. In fact Jowan was one of the few who weren't put off by Roth's magical prowess although he made no illusions his jealousy of it.

Roth shook his head filing away those thoughts for another time. Right now he walked in the Fade by Danamacil's orders searching for a Rage demon of significant power. Roth idly swiped a hand, banishing a cluster of floating islands from his path.

'I close.' He thought as he observed a pair of flaming pillars, the flames reaching up before bending backwards. 'I can feel the anger.' It was only a moment before he saw it. A great field of flame and ice, twisted statues and ruins lay about. And at the center of it all stood his quarry. Upon his observation of the twisted spirit he immediately recognized that he had been mistaken. The average rage demon came depicted as a creature of fire, its form consumed in flame and its body hunched. What stood before him now was a massive creature, its form more humanoid than most of its ilk. A halo of azure fire wreathed over the beast, its body incased in ice blacker than any shadow. Roth felt a slight chill crawl up his spine as he readied himself. He had come for a demon of anger. What stood before him was a spirit of Revenge. The young mage strode forwards, his eyes focused on the creature before him, just as its own eyes focused on him. Two bright wisps of maroon light locked onto him.

"What business have you here dreamer?" the demon demanded, his voice hard and chilling. "I did not call you here, nor have I any desire to deal with you." Roth didn't answer, only opting to focus on the giant before him stopping a fair distance away from the beast. A low rumble echo from the demon, "Speak worm!" he growled, a wave of frost expanding outwards.

"My mentor sent me here. To find and bind a greater demon of Rage." He allowed. The demon tilted its head, a feeling of incredulity flowing from it.

"Then your mentor sent you to your death mageling." The Demon paused, red eyes searching the Halfling. "Or maybe not. You are joined with a spirit even now. A powerful one." Roth nodded; not at all surprised it felt his bond.

"My mentor, Danamacil, is the spirit you feel." The demon suddenly straightened.

"That is an old name. One that was whispered here in the fade long before my forming." The creature stepped forward. Roth had to fight not to retreat a step himself. "What reason could there be for the Demoness have for joining her power to your own?" The creature bowed suddenly. A gesture so sudden that Roth almost confused it for as mocking. "But I forget my manners. You may call me Dar'U." Roth blinked again taken aback. He was certain that the creature was a demon of Revenge but he wasn't acting very… revengy.

"You may call me Roth." The mage allowed. "Are all Revenge Demons like this?" he asked, eyeing the creature curiously.

Dar'U shrugged his massive shoulders.

"Thus far no." Dar'U turned, maroon eyes focusing on something far out of Roth's own sight. "I have not come across any other spirits like myself. But enough." The creature swiped a massive hand, a large ring of black ice surrounding the two of them. Roth immediately summoned his magic, twin orbs of fire appearing in each hand. "You came for a demon to bind did you not Warlock?" Roth didn't respond keeping his eyes focused on the demon before him.

"Twould be quite the disappointment for you to return empty handed." Dar'U crouched, flaring his icy claws as he did.

"So a test of skill this will be?" The Halfling asked, his mage fire growing. The demon grunted. The halo of fire growing more intense.

"A demon you need to bind and a demon I am. I must warn you though, it will not be a prize easily won." For a moment all in the fade was still. The fires that previously raged were now quiet. Then with the intent of ending the fight as quickly as he could Roth lashed outward. The magical fire flying forth in a torrent, racing for the demon. Dar'U scoffed, a wall of black ice blocking the attack.

"Is that your best?" he taunted. He would have continued had the fire not sudden bent around his defenses forming into two flaming hands. The demon growled, dodging with speed and dexterity one would never suspect a creature of his size. Dar'U laughed, summoning a wave of ice with a swipe of his hands, dispersing the flames. Roth suddenly found himself on the defensive, dodging and ducking under Dar'U's own fire.

With a flick of his wrist Roth summoned more of his magic, launching an orb of darkness at the demon. Shadow bolt, Danamacil had called it was one of the first spells she had taught him. It was one of the essential spells in a warlock's repertoire, through the act of summoning the evil and darkness within one's self or within another to fuel the attack a warlock could weaponize it. Thus the more darkness there was to feed on the more powerful the Shadow bolt. The best part however was the fact that the attack rarely missed due to the fact that the bolt seeks out the greatest evil to join itself to, or the brightest good to corrupt. This was something Dar'U learned the hard way as he was suddenly smashed into by the attack, he roared in agony as he felt his own energy feeding it.

He threw out a hand, the sky in the fade suddenly darkening before a barrage of azure fire bolts rained upon the mage. With a quick application of Rock Armor protected him from the majority of the damage but it still stung.

"Fall now!" Roth began, gathering his magic. "My enemy! My foe! I call upon the darkness! Rot! Writhe! Wither! Fall to the Corruption!" the air rippled, racing for the demon as he finished his chant. Dar'U recoiled violently as he suddenly found himself assailed by the shadows, black blades and claws of shadow striking at him.

"Demon of the dark, I bind thee! Demon of the dark, I entrap thee!" Roth bellowed, taking the opportunity. Two alchemic circles suddenly appeared on either side of Dar'U trapping his arms. "Hearken to me now, Dar'U creature of Vengeance." Dar'U roared, thrashing against the magical bonds. "Hearken to me now and know your master!" two more circles appeared, further trapping the demon's arms. Roth thrust his hand out, a torrent of indigo energy striking the demon.

"Do you submit?" the Halfling demanded, receiving only a growl from the demon. He pulled at the energy bringing the demon to his knees. "Submit!" he commanded, magic amplifying his voice. Dar'U struggled once more against his bonds before stopping. The spirit of revenge focused his gaze upon the boy.

"Well done Warlock. Well done." He bowed his head, "I am yours then, for as long as you have need of me." Roth blinked, once catching a hint of something. Smugness? Content? Whatever it was he knew not, he stepped forward and clapped his hands together, the alchemic circles closing over Dar'U's arms causing him to glow.

"So mote it be then." Roth announced. When the light died down, Dar'U was changed. His once massive hulking form, worthy of a pride demon, was replaced with that of something more man shaped. He stood at seven feet, towering over his newfound master, his body crystalline in nature and so clear that had Roth not been able to see magic he would have missed him. Dar'U looked down at his new body, taking note of the runes that were etched into his body symbolizing his binding to Roth.

"Well done." Roth glanced to the side, seeing his master as she materialized next to him. "You handled him quite well." She stepped forward, taking note of how the demon had knelt before her, his head bowed. A sign of respect and submission, to her and her apprentice. She supposed that Dar'U would do as his first demon; she would have preferred it be an imp or a voidwalker. Both of hers had served her faithfully over the years. Sadly it was not meant to be as both were out of the reach of her apprentice.

"Get some rest." She told Roth, ruffling his hair affectionately. "You will need it for your next task."

Three years later

9:17 Dragon, The Circle of Magi

Jowan sighed helplessly as he observed Roth, his best friend taking a drink from his cup as he poured over the large tome he was currently reading. He never understood how he managed it but Roth was always in the library after lessons. Looking over the books it held. He glanced to the side taking in the pile of books he had yet to read, then to the much large pile of books he had. It confused and irritated him to no end, he was nearing his twentieth year and he still hadn't undergone the Harrowing, there were several other mages younger than him that had gone through it and yet here he was still an apprentice.

He hated it, and although his friend had yet to undergo the Harrowing he was still a mage of far better prowess. Still he found him here, easily the most adept of all the apprentices, studying away. He took to his studies like a dragon to the air. The strange thing about his friend that he had noticed him disappearing in the middle of the night. He even followed him one night, he watched as Roth effortlessly avoided the templar guards, as if he knew their patrol routes by heart. However what surprised him most was how in that night he saw Roth make his way to the repository, unseen and unheard by the two guards posted at its doors. Jowan quickly returned to the apprentice room and quietly lay in his bed, making sure none noticed his absence. He was terrified for the longest time, fearful of what would happen to his friend if caught. But it seemed his fears were for naught, just before sunrise Roth returned and quietly slipped back into his cot.

It took Jowan almost a week to muster up the courage to confront his friend, but now that he was here he felt his confidence leave him. He was sure his friend would do him no harm but he had a presence about him. It became most apparent when he used his magic. Whenever Roth cast a spell a heavy weight would fall over him, his breath would leave him. He'd even heard some rumor among the younger apprentices that he was a Pride demon, or possessed by a Pride demon.

"How long are you going to stand there?" Roth suddenly asked never taking his eyes off his book. Jowan jumped in surprise, taken aback. "You've stood there looking pensive for the past ten minutes." He marked his page before closing the book. "I didn't think it would take you this long to come up to me about it." The Halfling looked up, black eyes staring into Jowan's soul. He smiled, leaning forward as he clasped his hands.

"So then, what do you want to know?"

Thirteen years later

9: 30 Dragon, Tower of the Circle

Roth kept his face neutral when he was awoken in the dead of night by the Templars. He had a very sneaking suspicion what was going on as he followed the mage-hunter up to the top of the tower. Taking note of the seven Templars that were missing from their patrol routes. When he finally arrived at the top of the great tower he was greeted to the sight of those Templars, as well as the First Enchanter Irving, and the Knight-Commander Greagoir. Although Roth could care less about the Templar commander, he smiled at the sight of Irving. The wizened mage was something of a father figure to the Halfling, although he never truly took part in his teachings, Roth would occasionally visit the old man, speaking to him on anything.

"Magic exists to serve man." Greagoir began, causing Roth to grimace. "And never to rule over him. Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium. Ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin." Roth bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing the angry retort that he wished to let out.

"Your magic is a gift… and a curse. For demons of the dream realm, the Fade, seek to use you as a gateway into this realm" Irving stepped forward, catching Roth's sour look, "This is why the Harrowing exists. The ritual sends you into the Fade, it is there you will face a demon."

Roth smiled inwardly, 'I doubt any demon could match Dar'U in ferocity.' He thought. A low rumble filled his ears as he felt an invisible hand nudge his shoulder.

'And you do well to remember it.' The demon announced cheekily. Dar'U was an interesting summon to have, he stood next to the mage, invisible to all but Roth himself. It both amused and worried him that a demon of Dar'U's own strength, bound or not, could so easily avoid detection by the mages and Templars.

"I suppose there is a reason I'm only just going through this now?" Roth spoke, his question directed at Irving. The old man glanced to the Knight-commander.

"There was doubt that you would pass the Harrowing." He said simply. Roth sighed; dropping the subject he got the picture anyway. "Doubt" was just another way of saying 'the Templar order is worried you'll grow too powerful'. He stepped forward taking note of the small font of lyrium. He extended a hand. And the magical ore shinned brightly before a flash of white consumed the room. When it died down, Roth stood, still as a statue in the center his face expressionless.

Greagoir turned to Irving, glaring at the old man. "I would appreciate if you did not give away our secrets Enchanter, The grand clerics are right to fear the boy." Irving scoffed, leaning into his staff.

"Yes of course let us attempt to deprive one such as him the chance to prove himself; I'm sure your Templars would be able to subdue him long enough to perform the Rite on him." Irving shook his head, old eyes focusing on the boy before him. "Roth has a spark within him that I have not seen in a long time. That boy will pass the Harrowing, and go on to shake the world to its very core." Greagoir sighed, rubbing his temple.

"That is what I am afraid of Irving."