Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The young man slowly opened his eyes to find himself staring at parallel beams on a wooden ceiling. What had just happened before, and how had he gotten here? He could just barely remember the end of a wonderful dream. He was standing on top of a platform overlooking the people of a town. People were clapping, and cheering his name. Then, a woman in Chantry garb, a revered mother, had handed him a medallion for his service to the town, and the greater world of Thedas.

“Knight-Commander Denam, for what you’ve done for our town and our Circle of Magi, we award you this medallion. If it weren’t for your quick thinking and bravery, we don’t know what we would have done against that demon horde. This town can’t possibly thank you enough for your actions.”

Or, at least that’s what Denam had remembered of the dream. However, it was but a short trip to the Fade, and in reality, Denam wasn’t a hero, or a Knight-Commander. As it stood, he was barely even a templar. After all, he had just finished the final initiation to become one. He remembered lyrium, a lot of light, and now... he was finally a proper templar. It wasn’t like he was a great hero yet, but he was now well on his way.

Denam sat up on his bed. It seemed as if the other new recruits that had gone through the ceremony with him were still sleeping. The young templar stood up carefully and walked over to the door, then left the room. In the hallway, one of the older, more experienced templars greeted him.

“Hey, new recruit... Denam was it? Congratulations, kid, you pulled through the final step. How does it feel to finally be a true templar?”

“I’m glad to finally put all the training behind me. Now all that’s left is to do Andraste and the Maker’s work.”

“That’s the spirit!” The older templar clapped Denam on the back. “Those demons and blood mages won’t know what hit ‘em.”

The older templar chuckled and went on his way.

It was then that Denam realized that he was really thirsty. So he went to the dining hall to get himself some water. He poured himself some water, and started drinking. However, the feeling of needing to drink didn’t go away. How strange.

What was it that he needed? Alcohol? No, Denam had a feeling that wasn’t it, either. The young templar closed his eyes for a moment. Suddenly, he heard a strange, melodic humming noise. Denam quickly opened his eyes to try and see where it was coming from, but nothing in the room seemed to be making it. Was he hallucinating? He closed his eyes again.

There it was again, the same strange humming noise. It felt calming, familiar– like somebody was calling to him from far away. Denam looked around the room again, but still, nothing. Then, another templar walked into the room. Maybe she would know about the strange sound, or at least confirm that Denam was hearing things that weren’t there.

“Excuse me,” Denam began.

“Yes? Oh, you’re one of the new templars. Looks like you got through the initiation alright.”

“Yes, well… I think I have. Say, since I came into this room, I heard a strange humming noise coming from... well, I’m not exactly sure where. I just can’t seem to find the source of the noise. Do you hear it too, or am I going crazy?”

“A humming noise... I think I know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief. So you hear it too?”

“I’ve been hearing it for years. A strange beckoning call, a song that I hear in waking hours as well as my dreams.”

Wait, what? Was this older templar mocking Denam? She must have seen the bemused look on his face, as she chuckled a bit at his reaction.

“It’s the lyrium, of course! That’s what they infused you with during your initiation. It sings to us, and we take it in and gain our powers. That’s what makes us templars.”

“So that noise is... lyrium? But, where is the sound coming from?”

“Maybe the Fade, maybe underground where the lyrium is mined, maybe even our own blood. Some templars even say that it’s the voice of the Maker. Your guess is as good as mine.”

Denam blinked.

“But that’s not important now. What you need to do is get your first dose of lyrium from one of the revered mothers. Then you should probably get your orders from the Knight-Lieutenant.”

“Right, thank you.”

With that, Denam hurried off to find one of the revered mothers. By the time he found Revered Mother Cecelia, the other new recruits had already awakened, and had shown up looking for their lyrium rations, too.

“Here you are, looks like you’re all here. I have your philters, which also contain your lyrium for the week. One for each of you, here you go.”

The Revered Mother handed Denam a wooden box with an engraving of the prophet Andraste on it. Opening the box, the first thing Denam noticed was a small, glowing vial of what appeared to be lyrium powder. The box also contained a leather flask, a spoon, sharp instruments likely for scraping the lyrium powder, and a large syringe-looking thing.

Denam took out the small vial of lyrium powder and examined it. It didn’t look like much for a whole week.

“That should be plenty, Denam.” Revered Mother Cecelia commented as Denam held the vial up in front of him with a frown. “Just use a tiny bit at a time.”

“Yes, revered mother.” Denam stated, putting the vial back in the box.

“After dinner, you should all go get your orders from Knight-Lieutenant Bradforth. He’ll be expecting you.”

“Yes, revered mother.” The templar recruits all gave the revered mother a salute, then headed off in their own directions for the moment.

At dinner, Denam’s mind kept wandering back to the small vial of lyrium powder which would be his weekly ration. He could swear it was also giving off a faint humming sound, just like the “song” he had earlier.

Once dinner was over, the young templar made his way to Knight-Lieutenant Bradforth’s office for his new orders.

“So,” the knight-lieutenant addressed the new templars, “You’re officially part of the Templar Order now. You now work for the Chantry, the Maker and Andraste, so the pressure is on to be a good servant. I hope each and every one of you will take your job seriously, and uphold your vows. The power that the lyrium you take in can be used as a great asset against magic, and the evil that it spawns. You will do your part to make sure magic can, in the prophet Andraste’s words, ‘serve man, not rule over him.’ You are the Chantry’s last, and main, and sometimes only defense against misused magic. And trust me, there’s a lot of that out there.”

“Knight-lieutenant, Ser!” The templar recruits put their hands to their chests in a salute.

“Now, for the first order of business, your assignments. I am assigning you all to serve in various Circles of Magi. There are, of course, templars with other roles, but I’m sending all of you to Circles. Here is a written copy of your assignment.”

Knight-Lieutenant Bradforth handed each of the recruits a rolled-up note. Denam opened his and took a glance over it.

It seemed that Denam would be taking a boat to the Free Marches, then heading through the Vimmark Mountains to the city-state of Markham, were he would be serving at the Circle of Magi there. He had been hoping to be assigned to Kinloch Hold in Ferelden, simply because he had spent most of his life in Denerim, where the Chantry had raised him. From what he had understood, his parents had been mages in a Circle somewhere in the Free Marches, but obviously not in Markham, as family members were never put in the same Circle, whether mages or templars. 

“Now that you’ve gotten your orders, I figure I might as well give you a heads-up on how to parcel out that lyrium the Chantry gave you. Here, I’ll show you with some of my own ration.”

The knight-lieutenant took out his own vial and gave some quick instructions on how to mix it most efficiently with liquid. 

“Now, the lot of you are dismissed. You’ll be here a short while for some final training and tests, then you’ll be off to your assigned locations.”

“Yes, knight-lieutenant ser.”

Denam headed off to go parcel out some lyrium for himself in the way the Knight-Lieutenant had shown.

Chapter Text

The boat-ride to Ostwick was less than ideal, even though Denam wasn’t the type to get seasick. Being cramped on that rather small ship with other templars (many of which did get seasick) wasn’t exactly the time of Denam’s life.

The trip through the Vimmark Mountains and to Markham was tiring, but it wasn’t so bad. Finally, Denam had reached the city-state of Markham, and his entire career as a templar awaited.

After a short briefing in a room with other templar initiates by Knight-Captain Conroy, a rather young man who gave the impression of being a decent, not overly-strict person (or at least for a templar knight-captain), Denam was sent to the barracks to meet the templars he would soon be working alongside.

Shortly after putting his belongings away in a chest by his rather beaten-up looking newly assigned bed, Denam made his way over to a group of templars sitting in a circle playing cards, presumably to pass the time until their next shift.

The templar initiate stood there a bit awkwardly, unsure if the Free Marcher templars would accept him as one of their own or not.

“Hey, want to join us?” One of the templars in the group asked after about half a minute had passed.

“Sure, deal me in.” Denam replied, sitting down on the floor with the other templars.

“Will do! I’m Nelson, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Denam, nice to meet you.”

“Good to meet you too, Denam. That’s Jay, Curtis, Earl, Chester, and next to you on the other side is...”

“Kalon. I’m Kalon. Glad to meet you, Denam! We haven’t got new initiates in ages, it’s good to see some new faces around here. Watch out though, I play a mean game of Wicked Grace.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Kalon.” Denam replied as Nelson dealt him in. 

“So,” Nelson began, “where are you from, Denam? What brought you into the Templar Order?”

“Well, I was born in Denerim, back in Ferelden. I was raised by the Chantry, and never knew my parents.”

“That must’ve given you a head start on the whole templar thing, then. You could begin studying the Chant and your vows from a young age. Sorry about your parents, though. I never did get along with mine, was born up in Tevinter with a showoff mage brother. Had to leave and make a life for myself here where magic isn’t disgustingly abused so much and mages are in their rightful place. Took me awhile to get accustomed to the differences in the Chant of Light, though the one here’s much better.”

“Yeah, I guess so, Kalon,” Denam replied. 

Hating mages was common of templars in the Order and being in Tevinter as a non-mage was a sure way to be treated relatively poorly, but Denam has always secretly wondered if some templars were a little unfair towards mages. He supposed he understood the need to keep them contained in towers, but templars were supposed to be there to protect mages from themselves, not abuse them, right?

“All right! Let’s continue this card game, shall we?” Kalon declared.

As it turned out, it was Curtis who won and not Kalon, but that didn’t seem to dampen Kalon’s spirit one bit as they headed off to dinner.

“...oh, and especially watch out for Roy, he’s a tough mage to deal with. He’s tried to escape thrice, and actually made it out once. Didn’t manage to destroy his phylactery though, so we tracked him down in no time. Be careful around Megan, too, she specializes in close-range fire magic and might ‘accidentally' burn you if you’re not careful. If you think she’s going to cause trouble, grab her by the wrist. She hates that, but it gets her to stop.”

“Thanks for the advice, Kalon.”

“No problem! Don’t want my new templar buddy going in unprepared.”

Later that night, Denam was assigned his first patrolling job. He was to pace the hall, looking for mages out of bed. The first couple hours were completely uneventful. Just as Denam was comparing this to the visions of taking down abominations in shining armor and saving villages from certain destruction that had swam in his head for most of his life before this, Denam noticed a shape moving through the halls and towards the stairs down to the first floor. Judging by the shape of the figure and the lack of clanking armor, it wasn’t a templar.

“I see you coming this way. Present yourself!”

“Apprentice Roy, templar ser.”

Denam wasn’t quite sure he liked how Roy annunciated “ser”, but bringing it up seemed rather unnecessary.

“What are you doing up this late at night?”

“Say, I don’t recognize your voice.” Roy wasn’t answering Denam’s question at all.

“What are you doing up?” Denam repeated. “Stop dodging the question.”

“You must be one of the new initiates. You sound Ferelden. Bet you smell like dogs.”

Denam was losing his patience. He grabbed Roy by the arm firmly and stared him in the eyes.

“Answer my question!” the templar demanded through gritted teeth.

“You do smell like dogs. And lyrium.”

“You’re testing my patience, mage.”

Denam hadn’t meant to refer to Roy as simply “mage”, it just sort of came out. Maybe some of the other templars were rubbing off on him.

“Oooh, I’m sooo threatened. I’ve never tested a templar’s patience before... oh wait, yes I have. You bullies in armor don’t scare me anymore.”

Deep down, the templar knew that the mage was simply dead inside from being picked on by templars for so long, but Maker, Roy was really getting on Denam’s nerves.

“I’m warning you, mage! Tell me why you were out of bed or prepare to face the consequences.”

At this, Roy simply began to laugh. Denam was half expecting the mage to turn into an abomination or cast magic, but instead, Roy just laughed at Denam like the templar was the funniest sight he’d ever seen.

“Stop laughing!” Before Denam could begin to stop and think of a rational way to continue this encounter, he had already pulled back his fist and socked the mage in the jaw.

After the blow, Roy spent a good half a minute in silence, slumped against Denam’s chest, as the templar was still holding the mage’s arm.

Once Denam had finally realized that the mage was bleeding onto his armor in the dim light, he immediately let go of Roy, who fell onto his knees on the stone floor.

“Go back to your bed, Roy. I don’t want to see you up after hours again,” the templar remarked coldly.

“Violence. I expected as much. You templars are all the same.”

With that said, Roy slinked off to bed, a hand holding his jaw where Denam had punched him.

Once Denam’s shift had finally ended, he set off to the barracks to get some much-needed rest. He expected to have some trouble getting to sleep considering all the thoughts rushing through his head, but shortly after his head hit the pillow, sleep had overcome the young templar.

“You templars are all the same!”

There was Roy again, but this time he was mutating, turning into a hideous abomination.

“You messed with the wrong mage, templar. You should have heeded Kalon’s warning.”

Denam quickly drew his blade, ready to do battle.

“Die, demon!”

The young templar charged at the abomination with his sword raised, but before he could land a blow, the abomination had now punched him in the head, temporarily disorienting the templar under his helmet.

Once Denam had regained his bearings, it was already too late. The abomination had grabbed him by the throat, and used electrical magic to send a strong current through the templar’s body. All he could do now is look up into the abomination’s cold, pitiless eyes.

“How sad. The young templar’s career ends so soon.”

Denam wasn’t giving up yet, though. He began trying to channel his Maker-given templar powers in an attempt to blast the demon off of him.

However, it wasn’t working. Something was stopping Denam from using his abilities. How was this possible? Demons couldn’t do that.

“Templar magic not working?” The abomination taunted as it choked the life from its foe.

It wasn’t over yet, though. Denam may have dropped his sword when the abomination had shocked him, but Denam could still resist. He grabbed the abomination’s wrist in his hands, and tried to loosen its grip.

However, as hard as Denam tried to pull off the abomination’s grasp on his throat, he was unsuccessful at freeing himself. How could this be? Abominations weren’t that strong, right?

The young templar’s attempts at freeing himself grew weaker as the abomination held tight. The world was fading around him as the abomination stared down at its victim.

The next thing Denam knew, he had found himself jolting awake in bed, drenched in sweat and panting. That abomination... it had felt so real.

...well, he had been in the Fade after all, and that had been a real spirit hurting him. Even though he hadn’t been physically present in the Fade, the dream had felt just as if it had happened in the waking world.

“Nightmare?”

Denam reeled around to find that the templar in the bed next to him was speaking to him.

“I wish I could tell you that it gets better, but it really doesn’t. Well, usually the nightmares go away if we get enough lyrium, but the Chantry is a bit too strict in how they ration it out, in my taste. Maker watch over you.”

Chapter Text

When Denam had first been called to the knight-commander’s office, he had been terrified that he had done something wrong. As it turned out, however, two of the apprentices from the Markham Circle had run away, and Denam had been called to help track them down alongside Kalon and Nelson. 

“First Enchanter Edgar and I will lead you into the phylactery chamber and prepare the phylacteries for you to hunt down the escaped mage apprentices.”

Knight-Commander Julian had to be one of the oldest templars Denam had run across. Julian was a kind, thoughtful man, though he could be on the stricter side sometimes.

Denam, Kalon, and Nelson followed the knight-commander to the first enchanter’s office, who then joined them on their way up to the phylactery chamber, which was on the floor above the templar quarters.

Denam hadn’t actually been in the phylactery chamber yet in his first six months at Markham’s Circle. He had been outside guarding it several times, but this was the first time he’d set foot in it. The chamber was freezing cold, the chill cutting right through his metal armor and causing him to shiver.

However, this was no time to be distracted. Denam stood at attention while the knight-commander picked up two vials, one for each runaway mage.

“Here are Megan and Caroline’s phylacteries. Edgar, go bring these to be transferred while I brief my men on their mission. Though first, let’s get out of this room, it’s far too cold to have a decent conversation here.”

Denam and his two fellow templar comrades followed the knight-commander and first enchanter out of the phylactery chamber and into the dimly-lit hallway outside.

“I’ve suspected Megan would try and run away at some point, and I knew her friendship with Caroline would lead nowhere good. At any rate, I chose the three of you because you’re the best templars for the job. Nelson, your leadership skills among your fellow templars are impressive despite your low rank. Kalon, you have proven yourself time and time again to be highly skilled at tracking down escaped mages. Finally, I’m sending you, Denam, because you’ve proven your ability to follow orders and shown good leadership skills, too.”

“Ser.” The three templars saluted the knight-commander by putting their hands to their chests. Denam was surprised that the knight-commander had noticed his effort to serve the Markham Circle as a templar. As far as he was concerned, he had just been doing his job, but apparently his hard work had caught Knight-Commander Julian’s attention.

Before long, Denam, Nelson, and Kalon had set off from the circle to go and track down Caroline and Megan. Kalon had been given Megan’s phylactery to wear around his neck, and Denam had been given Caroline’s. The blood in the phylacteries were glowing just enough to suggest that Megan and Caroline hadn’t run too far.

Denam had always wondered if using phylacteries was a form of blood magic and thus inherently bad, but had never dared to bring it up with anybody. Really, it was just another Chantry tactic to keep mages in line, right? Just like Denam and the rest of the templars were.

The templars were about six hours into their apostate chase when Kalon stopped, apparently preoccupied with something on the side of the road.

“Look you two, elfroot!”

Kalon made a beeline towards the plant, which was growing on the edge of somebody’s property, right under a wooden fence.

“Kalon, I don’t think-” Denam began, but it already seemed to be too late to stop Kalon.

“It’s fine, Denny. What are they going to do to us if they catch us? We’re templars. We are the law. I haven’t had any of this stuff in days...”

“We’re supposed to be setting an example, not stealing people’s crops.” Denam shook his head.

“This stuff’s great. I'll smoke it tonight."

“You know, something could have pissed on that,” Nelson commented, looking rather amused.

“Out of all the elfroot I've ever smoked, none of it tasted like piss,” Kalon replied.

“How do you know what piss tastes like?” Nelson asked.

“You know, let’s get going. Don’t want the apostates to get any farther than they already have.” Kalon said hastily.

“Right, change the subject,” Nelson asked jokingly as the trio continued on their way to the apostates they were supposed to be chasing after.

Several days later, the group was getting close. The sun was beginning to set on a dark, overcast, moonless night, but the glow of the phylacteries made it clear that the apostates were probably, at least according to Kalon, only hours away.

“Should we continue, or make camp for the night? I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m getting tired,” Nelson asked.

“I say we make camp, but head out first light of dawn. Shouldn’t be long after that we catch them. What do you think, Denny?”

“I’m ready to set up camp for the night,” Denam replied to Kalon’s question.

“Then it’s decided. Good, I’m starving. Nelson, you start the fire. Denam, you can set up the bedrolls. I’ll get the food out.”

Denam followed Kalon’s directions and set up the three bedrolls for when it was time to sleep. Being located in a small indent in the rock at the base of the Vimmark Mountains, the site was a pretty ideal place to camp out for the night. They were even mostly protected from rain if the overcast skies decided to drench the landscape.

“I have half a mind to try and catch some of those nugs we’ve been seeing hopping around for dinner. I’m tired of bread and dried... whatever meat this is.” Kalon sighed.

“Sadly, we don’t have time. Now if only this fire would get... oh, there we go.” Nelson backed away as the fire he had lit finally caught on the kindling.

“Here you guys go, bread and dried meat.” Kalon handed the food out to Denam and Nelson.

A few bites in, however, Kalon stopped eating and began to stare at a bush a short ways away. Nelson seemed about to ask what was going on, but Kalon but a finger to his lips as a gesture for Nelson to be quiet.

Kalon put down his food, carefully pulled his bow off of his back, and drew an arrow. Kalon generally carried a sword and shield when inside the circle building like most templars, but his speciality mainly lay in carrying a bow and arrow. According to Kalon, he had been mostly trained in more rogue-like abilities in Tevinter and didn’t learn how to fight like a warrior until he had run away from home and began to train as a templar.

Before Denam had much time to wonder what in the Maker’s name Kalon was doing and what was in that shrub, Kalon let go of the arrow. Then, after the rather unpleasant sound of the arrow striking something meaty, Kalon stood up and walked over to the bush.

It wasn’t long before Kalon was walking back to the group holding a very bloody and most likely dead nug.

“Score! We eat like nobles tonight, boys!” Kalon grinned.

“Sweet Andraste! For a second, I thought we were being attacked by bandits, or worse. I took my mace out and everything.” Nelson said, putting away his weapon.

“Worse?” Denam asked, wondering what Nelson had thought might be worse than a bandit ambush.

“Think about it,” Nelson responded.

“What could be worse than a bandit ambush? Well, maybe a demon ambush. Oh, the apostates!” Denam was suddenly struck with realization. Really though, what if the mages they were tracking down ambushed the three templars to kill them and destroy their phylacteries? Denam surely wasn’t going to sleep well with that thought in his head.

“That’s why we’re sleeping in shifts tonight,” Kalon announced, now working on cutting up the dead nug to roast.

“You’ve chased after apostates before. Have they ever tried to ambush you while you were sleeping?”

“Once,” Kalon replied. “I woke up, and there was a shade standing over me, probably about to hex me into a deeper sleep so the apostates could kill me. I drew on my templar powers to stop it from using magic and yelled to wake my comrades up. Then we grabbed our weapons, and took down the demons and apostates. After that I’ve always known to sleep in shifts when we’re near our targets.”

“I was there, remember?” said Nelson.

“Oh right, you were, weren’t you? Denny didn’t know about it, though.” Kalon laughed.

Denam wondered if was because of the lyrium that Kalon had forgotten, or if he was just playing around and not mentioning Nelson intentionally. It was hard to tell with Kalon. 

What Denam did know was that he had been having a harder time finding everyday objects beginning shortly after he had started on lyrium, and that his memory would probably only get worse as time went on, or at least from what he had seen with the other templars. Oddly enough, the Chantry hadn’t mentioned memory loss as a symptom to watch out for during his templar training. Denam wondered what else the Chantry wasn’t telling him.

“The nug pieces are ready!” Kalon finally called out after carefully roasting them over the fire.

“Thank Andraste, that bread and meat was terrible,” Nelson remarked.

“You’re telling me! Here you go, Nel. And here’s some for you, Denny.”

“Thank you, Kalon.” Denam took the pieces of roast nug from Kalon, inspecting them under the firelight for a few seconds before taking a bite.

The other two templars were right, the nug was worlds better than the food the Markham Circle had supplied.

Halfway through the “main course”, Kalon stopped and took out a small pouch from his belt.

“Let’s not forget to power up, boys.” Kalon then drew out a flask of liquid and emptied the glowing blue powder from the pouch into it. Once that was done, he brought the flask to his lips and took a drink.

“Good idea,” Nelson agreed, taking out his own supply of lyrium and pouring it in his cup of water.

Denam likewise took out his lyrium dust and mixed it in his own cup of water, then proceeded to down it.

“To the Templar Order! May it last forever!” Kalon called out, as if this were a toast and they were drinking alcohol instead of lyrium-infused water.

There were no attacks during the night, be they from bandits, demons, or mages. The small group of templars woke up at the crack of dawn to pack up and continue their apostate hunt. 

It was only around an hour later when Kalon stopped and gave a signal, pointing to a small cave in the side of the mountain. The templars then moved as quietly as they could in their clanking armor, and thankfully found the mages still fast asleep.

Kalon gestured to Denam and Nelson to cover the mages’ possible escape points while he crouched down next to the sleeping apostates. At this point, however, the two young women woke up.

“Alright, I’m getting up…” muttered Caroline, apparently not yet remembering that she was outside the circle.

“Just a few more... Caroline, look out!” Megan cried, suddenly realizing what was going on.

“Ahhhh!” Caroline screamed and tried to move away from Kalon, but the templar was too quick.

“Gotcha!” Kalon declared, grabbing Caroline by the arm.

“Let me go!” Caroline shouted, vainly struggling against the templar’s grip.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got a nice, cozy cell in the circle’s basement waiting for you, girls. The perfect place to reflect on your crimes.” Kalon sneered back at the struggling mage.

“Kalon, please. Just get the apostates and take them back. No need for taunting them.” Denam wasn’t sure if he was overstepping his boundaries by saying this, and wouldn’t have said it to a templar of significantly higher rank, but he knew one thing-- taunting mages, especially out in the open, was usually a terrible idea.

“No!” Caroline told Kalon defiantly. “I’m not going back. We’ll fight you to the death if we have to.”

“Caroline, no, we’re outnumbered three to two.” Megan warned her friend.

“It’s not that bad odds.”

“They’re templars, Caroline... and we’re apprentice mages. Please, let’s just go back and take whatever punishment they give us. We’ve lost...” Megan begged, but Caroline was hearing nothing of it.

While this was going on, Kalon took out his lyrium-filled flask and drank what was left of the contents. At first, Denam was confused why he was doing this now, but on second thought, it was probably a method of intimidation. A statement that says: “I am a templar, and your magic means nothing to me.”

“Please, Caroline...” Megan looked pleadingly at her friend.

“Listen to your friend, Caroline. Your bid at freedom has reached its end. Let’s all head back to the Markham Circle and get this over with.” Nelson replied, shaking his head.

“I’d rather die than go back. And if I take out a templar or two in the meantime, all the better.”

“Caroline...” Megan sounded on the verge of tears.

“Apostate scum!” Kalon declared, seemingly intent on escalating the situation. “One little taste of the outside world, and you think you deserve to be free! You don’t know how good you have it in the circle!”

“Templar filth... I’ve had enough of your ‘holier than thou’ shit. How do you know you’re so much better than the so-called demons you claim to protect us from?” 

As Nelson and Denam began to draw their weapons for the inevitable confrontation, Kalon yelped and quickly let go of Caroline’s arm.

“Sometimes death is the best option... I’m sorry, Megan. You deserve so much better than this.” These were Caroline’s last words as she began to transform into a horrible monster that could only be known as an “abomination”. It was even more terrifying in real life than the ‘abomination’ Denam had seen in his nightmare in the Fade.

The thing that had been Caroline just seconds ago was now a firey, hideous mass of twisted flesh. The thing just missed Kalon with a blast of fire as he ducked out of the way and ran back to draw his bow.

Denam began to channel his templar abilities in case the thing went for him, but instead the monster decided to send a streak of fire at Nelson, who was in slightly closer range. Nelson held his shield up in front of him to try and block the blast and moved his face sideways towards Denam.

From what Denam could see of Nelson’s face through his helmet, the attack had hurt him a great deal. The templar wasn’t down and out yet, though, and decided to get closer to the abomination for a proper strike with his mace.

Big mistake. While the mace struck the abomination square in its ugly face and seemed to do a significant amount of damage, this gave the thing a chance to strike poor Nelson with a flame blast in close combat.

Nelson, who was now thoroughly torched and still on fire, dropped to his knees in pain.

“Now to finish you off,” the demon-possessed thing remarked cruelly.

“Stop!” Megan called, finally seeming to have gathered herself together.

“Stupid mage. Don’t make me go after you, too. It would be a waste of a perfectly inhabitable body.” With that said, the abomination hit Nelson with one final burst of flame to the face, knocking him backwards and into the ground, unmoving.

“Die, monster!” Denam called out, unable to restrain himself from charging any longer. The abomination charged up another flame blast while Denam routed his templar powers into his greatsword, intent on taking the thing clean out. 

Before the abomination could torch Denam, however, an arrow struck it directly in the neck. The thing made a pained gurgling noise as it bled from the injury. A split-second later, Denam swung his greatsword and cut the abomination clean in half through the middle.

The battle was won. Denam turned to Megan to make sure she wasn’t running, but something seemed off. The surviving apostate was cowering several feet back from where she had been, with her hands over her face.

“Get away, Denam!” It was Kalon’s voice. However, before Denam had time to try and step back, a blast of intense heat hit Denam from the side.

Once the heat had lessened, Denam finally realized what had just happened. Abominations can sometimes explode after they are killed, or at least that’s what his templar training had taught him. Denam had been so focused on avenging Nelson and taking out the abomination that he had completely forgotten.

“Are you okay, Denny?” Kalon asked.

“I’m fine, nothing that can’t be healed, I’m sure.” Denam replied. But then there was the matter of Nelson.

“I would have gotten an arrow off earlier, but the bitch fried my aiming hand a bit when she turned into a rage abomination.”

Denam looked down at the charred corpse that had once been their friend Nelson and swallowed. He had just expected for the three templars to find the mages and take them back. Maybe a little bit of fighting, but this? Why, just Maker, why?

“That- that could have been me. That could have been both of us. If you hadn’t gotten the arrow off, that could have been all three of us.” Denam stopped talking. Well, it would have been five, counting the two mages, assuming the abomination would have killed Megan.

“I- I’m sorry, Denam. This was my fault. I shouldn’t have...” Kalon’s voice trailed off. They stood there in silence for several minutes before Kalon finally spoke up again.

“Let’s pray for Nelson’s soul, then we can take his body back to the circle along with Megan.”

Kalon put his bow away and took off his helmet, then made his way to the charred remains of his and Denam’s colleague.

“Ashes we once were and ashes we become...”

Once they were done praying, Denam was tasked with bringing Nelson’s body back to the circle while Kalon restrained and pulled Megan along.

----------------------------------

The trip back had been a blur, but the next thing Megan knew, she was locked in a cell, presumably below the Markham Circle building.

It wasn’t fair. All she had wanted was to be free of the restrictive horrors of the circle, at least for a little bit. She hadn’t expected it all to go so very wrong.

Why had Nelson been the one to die? Not that she had liked the man, but why not Kalon? He, if anybody in the Markham Circle, had deserved it. The way Kalon treated the mages like his personal play-toys... or at least Denam should have been the one to die. She hadn’t known Denam for too long, but from the six months or so he had been in the circle, he had punched at least ten of the mages because of his anger issues. What an overgrown baby.

If Megan had just known a good frost spell, then she might have been able to put the fire out and stop the demon in its tracks.

Though the worst part, of course, was losing Caroline. Megan had known Caroline ever since she had first been taken to the circle. Caroline had helped Megan learn the ropes of how not to incur the templars’ wrath, how to blend in. Megan might have been killed years ago if it weren’t for Caroline.

Then there was Kalon. Caroline had warned Megan about him, and told her not to get in his way. Megan had listened, and watched other mages getting picked on by him. He seemed to be at the circle for one big power-trip. He loved having power over mages, especially, it seemed, the women. What a creep.

If she ever got out of this cell, Megan swore to herself, Kalon would pay. Maybe not here, maybe not now, but Kalon would indeed pay for his actions. Not through a demon though, mind you. Demons were never the answer. Megan would find other means.

“Megan?”

Megan didn’t know how many hours she had spent in that cell since she had woken up, plotting against Kalon and remembering what precious time she had spent with her friend Caroline. Looking up, Megan saw none other than First Enchanter Edgar himself.

“I’ve discussed the situation with the senior mages and Knight-Commander Julian, and it has been decided that you are to be let out of your cell and put back with the rest of the apprentices. Julian had his reservations, but he doesn’t have the final say in what happens to you... I do.”

“Thank you, First Enchanter,” Megan replied in a hollow tone.

Who cared what happened to her in the future? Nothing mattered now.

“Your Harrowing has been scheduled soon. I’m sure you’ll pass it. Just don’t stop studying.”

Megan had no idea what was entailed in a Harrowing other that she could die, but to her it was just one more reason that she hated the Circle. But maybe Caroline had been right, maybe death wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.

...No. Megan still needed to make sure Kalon got his, and that was as good as a reason for living as any. She would pass her Harrowing, and she would keep on living... and that was final.

Chapter Text

Margaret was a pretty average thirteen-year-old girl... in most ways. She loved to hang out with and talk to her friends about interesting hobbies, goings-on in Markham and the wider world of Thedas, and of course crushes and potential love interests. She would also help her parents around the house and in the crop fields, and read books for her schooling.

However, more recently, Margaret hadn’t been seeing her friends too much at all. She had been mostly spending her time helping her parents in the house, but not outside. All of her schooling nowadays had been indoors reading books instead of going to the library to study.

Why? Well, one simple reason, really. About a month ago, Margaret had started a small fire in the kitchen while trying to clean one particularly difficult spot on the floor. She hadn’t meant it, of course. She had just been focusing in on getting a persistent piece of dirt to come up when a sudden small burst of flames shot from her fingertips and hit the floor, igniting the floorboard.

Miraculously, and strangely, Margaret hadn’t been burned in the accident, and thankfully she was able to put it out in seconds. Unfortunately, however, the damage to the floor was done, and Margaret would have to explain it to her parents. She considered lying about how the floor had gotten burned, but in the end she decided to tell the truth, knowing that one day what had happened would occur again, and the next time she may not be so fortunate.

The horror-struck look on her mother and father’s faces when she told them was something Margaret would be haunted by for the rest of her life. Soon after she had admitted the incident, her parents told her to go to her room while they discussed things. Margaret listened, at least for the night.

One day, Margaret had stayed up late at night to sneak up to the door and listen to her parents talk. They were keeping their voices down, but if Margaret listened really closely she could make out most of the words.

“...you don’t know what she’s capable of. ...a mage, Iva. The Chantry...”

“...still our only daughter. The Chantry couldn’t tell a malificar from a...”

“...careful about what you say... the Maker Himself...”

“...can judge me as He wishes. I’m not about to… our own daughter... the templars are known for...”

“...The templars can help! ...if you’d just let me...”

At this point, Margaret had heard about enough. She opened the door and barged into the room, tears running down her face.

“You two would never turn me over to the templars, right? Please, please promise me you’re not going to let them take me away.”

“Well... we were just trying to go over our options and...” Margaret’s father began, before being cut off by her mother.

“We would never! If it comes down to it, we’ll hide you the best we can until you’re old enough to leave town and live as an apostate.”

“You can’t just defy the Chantry, Iva.”

“Many have, and many will. I’m not losing our only daughter.”

“We can discuss this more later. Margaret, please go back to sleep. We’re not taking any action yet, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Father, please! I don’t want to go to the Circle. Don't-”

“Margaret, bed, now. We’ll talk about it more in the morning.”

“...O-Okay...”

Margaret didn’t think she would be getting any sleep that night, but after a few hours of crying, thinking, tossing and turning, she was overcome by fatigue and drifted off.

“You don’t have to go to the Circle, you know. I can help you...”

A soft voice, almost a whisper. Sitting up and looking around, Margaret found herself lying in the field near her house. The source of the voice was nowhere to be seen… until Margaret looked down next to her to see a rabbit there. But rabbits didn’t talk... right?

“You don’t have to let the templars capture you. You have the power to resist at your fingertips.”

“I-I do?” Margaret asked the small creature.

“You can set much more than a small patch of floorboard on fire if you need to.”

“B-but they’d still come after me. Besides, I don’t want to get my parents in trouble.”

“Your father doesn’t care about you, he wants to call the templars to save his own skin. As for your mother? She’d give anything for you to be safe. Don’t worry, I can help you escape. Just trust me, and I can help you sneak out.”

“How exactly do you suppose I do that?”

This talking rabbit was very strange. What was also strange was that Margaret’s mind seemed to be foggy, like something was preventing her from thinking clearly. Still, without her parents and her friends, this rabbit may end up being her only friend in the world if she were to run away. Maybe she should take what it had to say to heart.

“I may look like just a rabbit, but I have many more powers than just being able to talk to humans. I can even teach you magic that the templars have a hard time defending against. You can be an apostate with me, and live your life to the fullest. No being cooped up in a tower all of your days. You already hate being stuck in your own house enough, now imagine that spanning your whole life, along with some armored freaks breathing down your neck at every point in time.”

“I...” The rabbit really had a point. For some compelling reason, Margaret picked it up and held it. The small creature was so soft, and holding it brought Margaret comfort from the worries her life had recently presented her.

“All you have to do is agree to bring me with you, and we can become one. It’s a beautiful world out there, and I have long sought to experience it to the fullest. With you, dear friend, both our dreams are possible.”

“All I have to do is...” Before Margaret could make her decision to accept the rabbit’s offer however, she felt a new sensation, one similar to somebody putting a hand on her shoulder and shaking her to her senses. At this, realization struck. Margaret was surely in the Fade, and the rabbit talking to her was no rabbit at all!

“I know what you are, I’ve been taught about creatures like you all my life! You’re a demon, trying to use me as a host so you can go past the veil and into the waking world!”

“No, what a horrible thing to say about me! I’m your friend and I just want-”

“No, you’re a nasty little demon! You want to possess me! If I’m going to be an apostate, I’m going to learn what I can from real people and do it alone, without the help of a demon.”

“Fine, Margaret, you’ve got me. But remember, your journey is far from over. You still have the templars to deal with. After a few rounds with them, you may change your mind about me. My offer stands, and if you ever need me, I’ll be waiting here in the Fade for you.”

With that said, the rabbit leaped out of Margaret’s lap and hopped off into the field. Would she ever see it again? Maybe, but the demon was right, Margaret had other concerns now.

The teenage girl awoke to a loud, sharp knock on the door. A sound that that could probably only be made by metal gauntlets against wood.

“Ugh, no...” Margaret groaned, sitting up in bed.

Another sharp knock.

Margaret hesitated. Should she go to the door? Or should she pretend she wasn’t there? Really though, it had to be her father that had alerted the templars, and he knew full well that Margaret was in her room. Could she still run away? Surely, it was too late.

Then she thought about the dream she had that night, and the demon she had met in the Fade. Maybe her father was right, and going with the templars was the safest option.

“Margaret! Come to the door, now!”

It was her father’s voice. Still in her nightgown, Margaret stood up and walked over to the door to face her worst fears.

Two men in heavy armor were standing in the doorway. Each had the flaming sword insignia on their breastplate, marking them as members of the Templar Order. They weren’t wearing helmets at the moment, probably to make them seem more human when they were taking the young mage away. Or maybe it was because it was hot outside.

Either way, it didn’t really help them look more friendly, considering the expressions on the men’s faces. One of the templars was fairly tall with shoulder-length light brown hair and sharp green eyes. He looked dead serious, and Margaret couldn’t help but feel intimidated by his gaze. The other man, who also had rather long brown hair (though a good few shades darker than the first templar’s) was far shorter, but still a good deal taller than the young mage. He had cold, deep blue eyes and didn’t quite look so serious, but rather somewhat bored.

“So, I take it you’ve come for our daughter.” It was Margaret’s father who spoke up while the young mage was frozen in fear.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. My name is Denam, and Kalon and I will be escorting her to the Markham Circle.”

“Hugh, pleasure to meet you, Denam. This is Margaret, my daughter.”

“If only it was on more pleasant terms.” Denam sighed.

Finally, a voice spoke up from behind Margaret.

“You told the templars, Hugh? I thought...”

“I was going to once we’d sorting things out, but no, it wasn’t me. One of the neighbors must have been eavesdropping on one of our conversations.”

The shorter templar, Kalon, cleared his throat.

“We need to be going back to the Circle with the apostate, so she won’t, you know, be an apostate.”

“My apologies, ser templar. Margaret, listen to what the templars and the Chantry say, and don’t cause a stir. I... guess this is goodbye, my daughter.”

Margaret had never seen her serious, practical father so emotional. Her mother was crying.

“...Margaret, your father’s right. I just wish we could have held onto you for just a little bit longer...” 

Margaret and her mother embraced for a few moments before the shorter templar cleared his throat again.

“Iva, let’s not waste any more of the templars’ time.”

“O-okay, Hugh. Go to the Circle, Margaret... they’ll take care of you there.”

Margaret wanted to say, “yes, mother”, but just couldn’t.

“Looks like she may need some help getting moving,” the shorter templar remarked.

“Right,” the taller one answered, and proceeded to take Margaret’s wrist in his hand and pull her out of the house.

“Alright Denam, back to the Circle. So much going on since the Blight started down in Ferelden. So many people coming and going.”

Denam gave one last look at Margaret and her parents’ faces before pulling the young mage through the door and outside.

“You’re not even going to give her a chance to get dressed?” Margaret’s mother asked.

“Iva, please, we need to-” 

“It doesn’t much matter,” the shorter templar answered, cutting off Margaret’s father. “She’s going to change into a robe soon after we get her to the Circle. Why should we give her one more chance to escape?”

“But-” Margaret’s mother began, but the young mage’s father closed the door before the conversation could continue.

“All right, before you get any ideas...” The shorter templar took what looked like rope off of his belt, and seemed to be getting ready to wrap it around Margaret’s wrists.

At that moment, a thought hit her-- if she was going to run, it was now or never.

In one daring moment, Margaret once again summoned fire from her fingertips, this time intentionally. Not enough to do serious damage, just enough fire to surprise the templar holding her and let her escape.

Sure enough, the taller templar yelped in pain and loosened his grip on Margaret enough for her to pull herself loose and make a break for it through the nearby crop field. Both templars drew their swords and gave chase, but thankfully, Margaret was a fast runner, and was able to outpace the templars in their heavy armor… for a moment.

However, the two templars were slowly, but surely, gaining on her. Though as it seemed, luck was on Margaret’s side today-- in front of them was a large creek, too deep to wade across at this point in late spring. Moreover, the nearest bridge across was a good distance away. Margaret might have a chance at escape.

The young mage carefully but quickly climbed down the bank, took a deep breath, and jumped into the creek, frantically swimming across to the other side. She wasn’t such a good swimmer, but knew enough to make it across. The templars, however, stopped dead, unable to cross the water without sinking like rocks.

“Damn it!” Margaret could hear the short templar swear as she got up from the edge of the creek to climb up the other side of the bank and keep running.

“Well then, what in the Void are we supposed to do now?” Kalon demanded.

“The creek gets thinner farther down. If we hurry we can still make it.”

“Then what are you waiting for, Denam? Let’s go!”

“Right!”

Denam was utterly furious with himself for that moment of weakness that had let the young mage escape. It had reminded him for one brief, critical moment about what had happened with Caroline slightly over a year ago. How Nelson had been burned to a...

No, this wasn’t the moment to think of that. Denam and Kalon had a mage to catch, and not much time before she would surely do something rash to escape the templars.

However, as valiantly as Denam and Kalon tried to catch up and recapture the mage, she eluded their grasp.

Now came the hard part-- reporting the news to their superiors.

“I... see. Well, somebody is going to need to find her, and you two better hope that it’s the two of you.”

“Yes, Knight-Commander,” Denam answered, very aware of the fact he was sweating due to nerves.

“We’ll find her... if only I had brought my bow and arrows instead of my sword. Could have shot the bitch right there.”

“No point focusing on what could have been done now, Kalon.”

“Yes, Knight-Commander.”

It seemed that Denam and Kalon had a long night ahead of them.

Just run. Don’t let them catch you. Don’t let them lock you up.

Margaret was beyond exhausted, but she knew she couldn’t stop. If the templars found her, they’d lock her up for life, like all the other mages. So she ran.

The sky had darkened hours ago, and Margaret didn’t know how much longer she could continue running. Surely it was more than just the two templars she had met looking for her by now, but she needed to find somewhere to rest. But where?

She couldn’t just sleep out in the open, the templars would find her there for sure, plus it had started to rain between the time she had left her home and now. She needed to go inside somewhere, but putting blind trust in a random family to shelter her seemed like a terrible idea. Leaning against a tree, the young mage considered her options.

It was then when Margaret heard a rustle in the bushes nearby. Could it be the templars? It sounded too loud to be a squirrel or nug. Then, to Margaret’s horror, what appeared through the darkness to be a human hand emerged from the brush. This was it, they had caught her.

Before she could start running again, however, the hand began to... glow? Yes, it was glowing with the unmistakable glow of mana. Another mage! The hand signaled that she should follow it into the brush.

After just a moment of hesitation wondering about what this mage’s intentions can be (after all, Margaret had heard the Chantry’s horrifying tales of Tevinter slavers and blood mages coming the the free marches to capture slaves and do other unspeakable things), Margaret crawled into the brush after the fellow mage.

To her surprise, on the other side of the brush was the inside of a cave. There was a fire lit farther in, and the other mage was waiting for her. The mage that had invited Margaret in was an older man with medium-length grey hair and a short beard. He wore a tattered robe that looked like one of the ones that the Circle Mages wear, but with patches sewn on, presumably where the robe had ripped over time.

“I heard some templars pass by earlier talking about an escaped mage without a phylactery. I figured that if I could help another mage escape a life in the Circle like I did so many years ago, I could begin to repay the kindness a fellow apostate showed me back when I first ran away. My name is Alton. What’s yours?”

The man seemed trustworthy enough, and it wasn’t like Margaret had a choice if she was going to flee the templars.

“My name is Margaret. My parents learned about my magic when I accidentally started a small fire and couldn’t get rid of the burn marks on the floor after I put it out. I don’t know who called the templars, but they came for me this morning.”

“Oh, is that so? I accidentally froze a house fly trying to swat it back in my youth at a dinner party, then ran out of the house and never returned. The templars have long given up looking for me, but you… you’ll have to be extremely careful.”

“I know. The last thing I want is to be sent to the Circle.”

Alton nodded.

“I can help you. It’s not right what the templars do to us mages there. Being an apostate isn’t easy, but it’s a much better life. Say, how did you escape the templars as they were coming after you? Did you receive a tip-off that they were coming?”

“No, the came to my door and tried to take me away. I tried to channel the same fire magic I used before accidentally and burned one of the templar’s hands. Then I ran down a bank and swam across a creek to lose them.”

“Clever one, you’ll make a good mage.” Alton smiled, but then his expression darkened. “If they don’t catch you. Since you attacked a templar, they might even not decide to spare your life. Or even worse, they might make you tranquil for that.”

Margaret let out an audible gasp. She hadn’t considered death… or tranquility.

“How... how am I going to avoid the templars, then?”

“Think of it as a game of cat and mouse. The cat will try to hunt you down, but you, the mouse, will have to out-think it. The cat has sharp claws and teeth, and will stop at nothing to catch its prey... but like the mouse can squeeze into tighter gaps than the cat, you too have an advantage.”

“What is it?” Margaret asked, having a feeling she already knew the answer.

“Magic.” Alton once again channeled mana into his hand, lighting it up with green energy.

“But… can’t the templars shut it down?” Margaret had long heard of the templars’ unique ability to nullify the power that mages possess, and how it made them a force to be reckoned with, even against magical beings.

“Only if they find you first.” Alton smiled. “I can help you hide while you practice your magic, and teach you what you need to know.”

“But... why would you do all that for somebody you just met?” Margaret wasn’t sure if she could exactly trust Alton yet, but he seemed decent enough, and it wasn’t like she had any other choice.

“Because as I said, somebody did the same for me. And besides, years back, I fell in love with another apostate. But it turned out, she hadn’t told me that she hadn’t destroyed her phylactery. Tragedy struck, and she and our baby daughter were caught by the templars and taken to the Circle.”

“I- I’m sorry that happened.” 

Margaret couldn’t imagine how terrible that must feel to lose a partner and daughter to the templars... though she was sure her parents were feeling similarly right now, having just lost her to the templars. How were Margaret’s parents dealing with the situation right now? ...no, Margaret couldn’t focus on that now. The important thing to do now was to survive. If her parents got the news that their daughter had been killed, or gone through the Rite of Tranquility…

“I didn’t get to help raise my own daughter, but I can help you… if you’d like to be my apprentice.”

“I’ll... I’ll think about it.”

Again, there wasn’t many options for Margaret now, but still, she needed time to process.

“I’ll let you consider. In the meantime, you should rest. You must be exhausted from running so far. I’m afraid the floor is a good bit less comfortable than whatever bed you must be used to, though.”

“No, that’s fine. I can manage.”

Margaret laid down on the cold floor and fell asleep almost instantly.

Before she knew it, Margaret was back in the field by her house. Feet away, the same rabbit was sitting there, grooming itself. After a few moments, however, the rabbit stopped and turned back to the young mage.

“The templars are coming for you, you know.”

“Yes. I know, demon. I have Alton to protect me.”

“Can you trust him to protect you? What if he’s captured, too?”

“I have to trust him. There’s no other choice.”

The rabbit shook its head.

“You have other choices, you know. You have me.”

“A demon?” Margaret raised her eyebrow. “You’re not fooling me again.”

“You’d write me off that quickly simply for being a spirit? I- shh, somebody’s coming.”

“Here? I-”

Sure enough, however, there were people coming. Two men in full armor, heading towards the place Margaret and the rabbit were sitting. As they approached, the two men took off their helmets.

“There you are. Do not resist, or we will have to use lethal force.” It was the taller, younger templar, the one whose hand Margaret had burned with her magic.

“If you come with us willingly, the Circle may go easier on you, and just make you tranquil instead of killing you.” It was the other templar, the shorter, older one.

“I would never come with you. I’d rather die than become tranquil,” Margaret shot back, already beginning to attempt to channel mana the way Alton had. It wasn’t as elegant, but Margaret was still going to try.

“That will be enough of that,” the shorter templar remarked, beginning to channel something himself. It wasn’t long before Margaret felt her magical energy beginning to be choked off.

“No!” she called out as the taller templar began walking towards her, seemingly intent on tying her hands up again.

“You will leave her alone!” Suddenly, the rabbit leaped into the air in front of Margaret, landing on the templar’s forearm.

“Get off of me-” The templar began, but the rabbit’s eyes had already begun to glow blue. Soon, the templar’s arm was slowly being encased in ice.

“Let me help!” The second templar called out, drawing his sword and channeling his templar powers into it.

However, no sooner had the second templar started to charge at the rabbit sitting on the first templar’s arm than he stopped dead, gazing directly into the rabbit’s eyes. His stance relaxed, and the man fell into a what appeared to be a trance.

By now, the first templar’s body had been completely frozen while the second still couldn’t move. The rabbit’s glowing eyes intensified even brighter for a moment, and both templars, including their armor, dissolved into smoke.

The rabbit leaped gracefully to the ground as the glow in its eyes faded and the creature just looked like a normal rabbit.

“That was only a small fragment of my power. I can do so much more, so long as you just let me help you.”

“...and become an abomination? Never!” Margaret was in a bit of awe at the spirit’s act, but still had her senses with her.

“Would you rather be tranquil? Fine, trust your mage friend to help you… but beware, he might be more than he appears as well. I’ll be waiting for when you decide you need me.”

“More than he appears? What do you mean?”

The rabbit turned back to answer Margaret, but at that moment, the mage’s spirit was called back from the Fade as Alton shook her awake.

“What... what is it?”

Margaret slowly opened her eyes to find Alton standing over her, looking distressed.

“There’s somebody here!”

“What? Templars already?” Margaret sat up as quickly as she could.

“No, I don’t think so. Just one person. Sounded about your age. Shh, listen.”

“Hello? Did somebody say something? Where are you?” A voice called out. 

“How does he know we’re here?” Margaret asked.

“You were talking in your sleep. I considered waking you, but it was so low. Then you shouted ‘never!’, and I think that’s what he heard.”

“What can you do? Can you conceal us?”

“We are concealed. But I’m afraid he’ll report back to the templars that he heard something around here.”

“What can we do?”

“I’ve got an idea. You may not like it, but...”

Alton began to do magic again, but this time was different. Instead of his hands glowing, Alton took out a small dagger and pulled up his sleeve. Margaret gasped softly as the man sliced into his flesh and blood began to pour out.

Before Margaret could fully take in what had just happened, she heard a loud, horrible skittering sound behind her.

“Stand against the wall, like me. I can conceal you in case he comes in here.” Alton called as he stood up and backed against the wall.

Horrified of the now approaching giant spiders, Margaret obeyed. The three spiders crawled past her and Alton and then out of the cave.

The next thing Margaret heard was a surprised cry as the boy on the other side realized that he was being attacked by giant spiders.

“Back off, creatures!” The sound of a blade being drawn came from beyond the shrub protecting the narrow mouth of the cave, and the young man could be heard trying to fight the spiders off with his sword.

The sound of the blade glancing off one of the creatures could be heard, then a noise that could only be a spider striking. However, judging by the lack of a pained yell, it seemed that the boy had dodged the eight-legged beast’s fangs.

The sound of another swing was heard, but this time the sound was of a blade hitting home. It was the spider that hissed in pain, but it seemed the young man’s victory was short-lived. Soon enough, the sound of another spider striking was heard, and from the scream that followed, the beast had made its mark.

It was at this point that Margaret had decided she could take no more. This was just a child, not a fully-grown, apostate-murdering templar. Sure, he would report back to the templars, but Margaret wasn’t about to let him die to Alton’s blood-magicked giant attack spiders.

It seemed Alton sensed that Margaret was about to leave, as he gestured to her not to move. However, Margaret had her mind set. She hadn’t let the demon trick her, and she wasn’t about to let a malificar stop her as well.

Before Alton could use some sort of blood magic to keep her rooted to the spot as the rabbit demon had done to the Fade templar (who she now realized had probably just been a spirit taking the form of a templar), Margaret tore away from the wall and frantically crawled out of the shrub that the spiders had gone through.

As she emerged into the daylight, Margaret saw a young man, probably around her age, with shaggy brown hair and a freckled face. He was still trying to fend off the spiders, but with a bitten arm he wasn’t doing such a good job.

Before the three spiders could overwhelm the boy, Margaret summoned forth flames with her Fade magic and sent a stream of fire at the spiders. The creatures hissed in fear and pain as the fire scorched their exoskeletons and lit them in flames. Meanwhile, the teenage boy yelped and jumped back out of the flame’s reach.

Now, however, the burning spiders turned and faced Margaret, their beady eyes fixed on the young woman who had just torched them.

“Stay back!” Margaret called, about to channel more fire.

However, the spiders seemed to decide against attacking Margaret, and turned back to continue their assault on the young man.

Margaret still didn’t hesitate to throw more flames at the three eight-legged creatures as they went after the teenage boy.

At that moment, however, Margaret heard heavy footsteps approaching quickly. Turning to look, she saw the exact two people she had been hoping never to see again.

“That’s the mage we’re looking for!” It was the shorter templar, standing back with a bow drawn.

“Wait, what about the spiders?” It was the taller templar charging forward. He was wearing a helmet, but Margaret could still recognize his facial features through the helmet's gaps.

“You kill them, I’ll focus on the apostate! Don’t move, girl, or start channeling demons. I won’t hesitate to put an arrow through your head.”

For one brief moment, Margaret considered moving. Not to summon that demon, but just to have the shorter templar kill her so she wouldn’t be made tranquil. But that moment passed, and Margaret stayed still, watching the taller templar skillfully take on the three spiders.

“Hold on,” the templar said to the teenage boy as he cut off a giant spider’s head. “We’ll get you healed up once this is over.”

Once the giant spiders were slain, the templar fighting them rushed over to Margaret with the rope from before. This time, she didn’t resist as he tied her hands together. Meanwhile, the shorter templar ran over to the young man, who was now lying on the ground in pain.

“Here,” he said, taking out a small bottle filled with an orange substance. “Elfroot tonic. It should help your arm until we get you to a healer.”

The templar uncorked the bottle and poured some of it out over the teenage boy’s swelling arm.

“It won’t get rid of the venom completely, but it’ll heal you a bit. Giant spider bites are bad, but they’re not the worst injury to have.”

While the shorter templar was caring for the young man, the taller templar glared down at Margaret through his helmet.

“You shouldn’t have run. The Circle is a refuge for mages, not a prison.”

Margaret considered coming up with a witty retort, but in the end, she decided to comply as much as possible. But still, she needed to ask a burning question. Hopefully the templar wouldn’t take it as defiance.

“Does that mean you’re not going to kill me or make me tranquil?”

“I... it’s doubtful. You’ll probably just be taken to the circle like any other mage.” The templar’s expression didn’t soften any as he spoke, but the reply was assuring nonetheless.

“Okay. I’m ready.” Margaret took a deep breath, thinking about Alton and what he had said and done.

“Let’s go,” the taller templar called out to his fellow knight.

“Wait,” the shorter templar said.

“I don’t think those spiders were acting normally. They didn’t attack the apostate, and went back to this kid-- Zachary, he told me his name is.”

Margaret’s blood seemed to freeze in her veins.

“The mage girl...” The shorter templar locked eyes with Margaret. “I think she knows something, judging by her expression.”

“I…” Margaret broke eye-contact with the templar and stared at the ground.

“There’s definitely somebody else here. Zachary, where did the spiders come from?”

The teenage boy pointed to the brush leading to Alton’s cave.

“W-wait!” Margaret called. “There could be something dangerous in there!”

“Like an apostate?” The shorter templar asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like- like more spiders! Maybe a whole army! You should gather reinforcements before going in there!”

Margaret wasn’t entirely sure why she was defending a blood mage. Alton had tried to help her, though, despite being a maleficar. Maybe that’s why?

“I’ll take my chances. Stay behind me, Zachary.” The shorter templar said, turning to the teenage boy.

“Go.” The taller templar put a hand on Margaret’s shoulder and pushed her towards the brush.

Once the shorter templar and Zachary had entered the cave, the taller templar made Margaret go into the cave, and followed.

Once they entered the cave, the place looked deserted. Even the fire had been put out.

“See? I was the only one here for the night. Then the spiders came out, and I hid from them, but ran out once Zachary was attacked to help.

“A likely story,” the shorter templar scoffed.

“I’d guess whoever is here cares about you very much if they risked their life to hide you. Denam, I’ve got an idea. You watch Zachary.”

The taller templar shoved Margaret closer to the shorter templar and walked over to Zachary.

The shorter templar drew a dagger from his belt and grabbed Margaret by the shoulder, then pressed the blade to her throat.

“Come out of hiding, or the apostate bitch dies. I don’t have the time or patience to search you out myself, and my superiors won’t care about one less wretched apostate in the world if I end her.

At that point, the wards masking Alton vanished and the man slowly stepped forward towards the shorter templar threateningly.

“Stop and surrender peacefully, or the apostate bitch will get it.”

“A dirty tactic.” Alton raised his hand into the air, and magically forced the blade away from Margaret’s throat.

“‘Dirty tactic’?” The shorter templar repeated. “Bold words, coming from a maleficar.”

“You don’t know who you’re taking on” Alton warned, once again drawing his dagger.

“A bluff, I’m sure. I’ve killed plenty of filthy maleficarum in my time. What makes you think you’ll be any different?”

“One mage may have trouble against two templars, but I believe you can help turn the tide, Margaret. Get behind me and I’ll get those ropes off your wrists.”

Margaret, however, remained stationary.

“They’ll take you to the Circle, and likely either kill you or make you tranquil. If we can kill these templars, we can escape before they can get your phylactery. Then I can train you.”

“I don’t want to be trained by a blood mage,” Margaret stated firmly.

“I don’t want you to get harmed, but if you don’t get behind me, I may not be able to stop-”

“I’ve made up my mind.” Margaret asserted. “I’ll fight you too if I have to.”

“Stay back, apostate girl, and don’t do anything reckless while Denam and I deal with the maleficar,” the short templar demanded.

The taller templar had already drawn his greatsword, and looked ready for combat.

“So be it.” Alton stated, a somber expression on his face.

With that, Alton made another cut with the dagger into his arm, but this time it wasn’t spiders that emerged, but twisted creatures that could only be demons, being drawn through the veil.

“Shades,” the shorter templar warned, taking several steps backwards to defend Zachary, while the taller templar charged forwards, appearing to be channeling templar energy into his greatsword.

The shades hissed and struck at the taller templar, but were clearly no match. The templar swung his greatsword with deadly force, knocking the shades down and soon out.

Once the demons had been taken care of, Alton stepped forwards, preparing to use some sort of blood magic on the taller templar. However, before he could use a spell, an arrow soared through the air and struck him in the chest.

Margaret let out a gasp as Alton fell to his knees, breathing heavily labored.

“That’s right, we’re taking this apostate bitch of yours back to the Circle, and she’ll be lucky if they don’t make her a tranquil. Now, to end your pathetic existence, maleficar scum.”

With that said, the shorter templar once again drew his own dagger, walked over to Alton, and slit the man’s throat. Margaret looked away, eyes tearing up, but looking in the other direction didn’t prevent her from hearing the loud “thud” as Alton’s body hit the cave floor.

“Let’s go, Denam. There’s nothing more to do here, and poor Zachary here needs a healer.”

The taller templar nodded, and gestured for Zachary to follow.

“Go, mage.” Margaret flinched as the shorter templar pushed her forward, but nevertheless obeyed.

“That was amazing how you guys took out those demons and the maleficar! The spiders, too!”

“Thank you, Zachary,” the shorter templar replied. “Just another day as one of Thedas’s heroes.”

“Actually, I've been training to be a templar for several years now. My family's supposed to send me away to start the more intense training in a few months. It was supposed to be sooner, but then the Blight happened. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be a templar so much, but now I know that my family made the right choice.”

“The training won't be easy, but I wish you the best. Say, you from around here?”

“No, I’m from Kirkwall’s Hightown. My family came here for a bit because Kirkwall is mobbed with Ferelden refugees from the Blight now. They wanted to be somewhere more peaceful for a bit, since tensions are running high in Kirkwall now. Less refugees here in Markham.”

“I see. You a noble? What your family’s doing seems like a nobility kinda thing, and you said you’re from Hightown.”

“Yeah, we’re the Carnelians. We’re minor nobility, and a bit of a small family, though I’ve got a good few siblings.”

“Zachary Carnelian,” the shorter templar grinned. “I’ll remember that name. Maybe our paths will cross again.”

“Yeah, maybe...” Zachary replied.

“Now, to get the apostate back to the Circle,” the shorter templar turned to Margaret. “You’ve got a long, difficult path ahead of you, if you can even make it.”

That Margaret was sure of.

Chapter Text

“All right, enough socializing, it’s time for bed. I’ve got important business tonight after my shift here so hurry up and tuck in.”

“I guess we’ll just call this one a draw, huh?” Margaret told Megan as she took the pieces off of the chess board and put them away neatly in a box.

“I don’t know about that, I was winning after all...” Megan replied playfully.

“I just said I haven’t got all night. Hurry it up, girlies.”

“Yes sir, Kalon, everything’s put away and we’re heading off to sleep.” Looking at Megan’s face, it was easy to tell she was irritated, but no mage in Markham’s Circle would dare take on a challenging tone with Kalon, even Megan it seemed.

“Good. Now go to your rooms like good little mages.”

“Sir.” Margaret and Megan headed their different ways to their rooms, and once there Margaret climbed into her bed in the apprentice quarters.

Now that the mages were tucked in, it was time for the real fun to begin. Time to find Denam for his eighteenth birthday celebration.

Kalon soon found his comrade walking down the stairs from the upstairs templar quarters.

“What were you doing there? I hope you didn’t get in trouble with the Knight-Commander.”

“No, Knight-Commander Julian just wanted to wish me a happy birthday.”

“What, that’s all?” Kalon responded, raising an eyebrow. Kind of odd thing for the Knight-Commander to call somebody up for, or at least Kalon had never been wished a happy birthday from Julian all the years he’d been at the circle.

“Well, it might also have been about a potential promotion, but we don’t need to discuss that now. I know it’s a bit of a sore subject for you.”

“Sore subject? For me? Nah, it’s all good. But really, congratulations. The Knight-Commander's had his strict but admiring gaze on you since shortly after you arrived at the Markham Circle.”

“It’s a little early for congratulations as nothing’s set in stone yet, Kalon. The Knight-Commander’s simply considering a promotion to knight-corporal sometime in the future.”

“Well, I’m not surprised at all. You always did follow orders like a champ, Denny.”

“‘Like a champ,’ huh? All I do is what I’m told, nothing more, and nothing less.”

“As a good templar should. Squeaky clean, no skirting the edges of our vows, or our orders.”

...which was something that Kalon did well, admittedly often. He had always harbored the mentality of “just don’t get caught”, and he was good at that… just not perfect, which was probably what was holding him back from a promotion. Still, Kalon was happy for Denam, not jealous. Even if Denam had started here less than a year ago... 

“So, where are we going?”

“You’ll see when we get there, Denam. Just follow me out of the tower and across town.”

About a half an hour of walking and conversation later, and the two off-duty templars had reached one of Kalon’s favorite hangout spots.

“‘The Old Druffalo?’ We’re going to a bar?”

“Why not? I know we’ve been here before, but this time you can really sit back and loosen up. I’ll even cover your shift tomorrow if needs be. You’re always so serious, I figure this is a good chance to just relax and not worry too much about work... that is, unless a demon or blood mage shows up at the bar, then you might want to start worrying again.”

“You better be kidding about the demon, Kalon.”

“Am I joking? Is lyrium blue? Of course I’m joking. Now let’s go in and have a good time.”

“Good, because if you decided to invite a demon or blood mage to my birthday party..."

Kalon held the door open for Denam to walk in, then followed, pointing to a large table near the front of the bar that was already occupied by several templars.

“I heard from Kal that it was somebody’s birthday, so I decided to tag along... Happy Birthday, Denny!”

“Aww, thanks Thomas! I see Rosalie and Lewis decided to join in, too!”

Thomas reached down under the table and drew out what appeared to be a hastily-wrapped package and placed it on the table.

“The three of us and a couple of other templars put together our stipends to buy you a little birthday present, Denny. Feel free to open it whenever.”

“Thanks! I’ll open it near the end of tonight’s festivities.” Denam took the gift and put it on the floor next to the chair he had just sat down in.

“Now,” Kalon began, “let’s get this party started! A round of drinks on me!”

The night went on, and Kalon ordered a round of drinks for the five templars who enjoyed their drinks with some Markham specialty cheese before moving on to their dinner. Denam was just finishing up with his pork chops when somebody he didn’t recognize walked up to the table.

“Hey there, stranger! I couldn’t help but overhear that it was your birthday and-”

“Hey now, we’re templars over here, don’t you recognize the shiny armor? Y’know, flaming sword, pointing down? See it? You sure you want to get involved in our affairs?”

“I do see your armor, good ser templar. It is very shiny indeed. I just wanted to wish the birthday boy a happy birthday, that’s all!”

“Not much of a boy anymore, really. This is his eighteenth birthday. Oh, and speaking of birthdays, if you want to see your next one, I’d advise...”

“Kalon, Kalon. Let’s let the birthday boy decide who joins in the festivities. What do you say, Denny?”

“Alright, fair point, Tom. Denam, you want to deal with this weird, apparently drunk stranger?”

Denam thought for a second. It couldn’t hurt to let this man join in the party, right? Unless Kalon really had invited an abomination or something... but the templars in Markham were pretty darn thorough in eradicating blood mages and abominations in Markham under Knight-Commander Julian. Besides, this just seemed to be a drunk (and slightly unwise) bystander, not somebody dangerous. Even if he was a threat, he had approached a whole table of templars. Even a demon would be smarter than that.

“Sure, the more the merrier. But I can’t help but think you’re here for more than to just say ‘happy birthday’.”

“You’re a sharp one, ser templar. You see... I’ve been looking for somebody to have a bit of a drinking contest with. I used to have them all the time back several years... but recently most of my friends have moved on, and the ones still hanging around have sworn off drinking. But you, you and your friend over there...”

The strange man gestured at Kalon.

“...seem to be regulars here.” The man then turned back to Denam

“You, birthday boy! I’ll tell you what, if you win the drinking contest, there’s something in it for you. But I really doubt you could beat me.”

“Big words, when you don’t even know me.” Denam stood up from the table.

“Just a second...” the man reached into his pocket and drew out a sizable bag of coins.

“This can all be yours, as well as another super-secret mystery prize!”

At this, Kalon stood up from his seat.

“‘Secret’? You do still remember we’re templars right? If you-”

“Perfectly legal, I assure you! It’s not like I’m dealing demon eggs or something. Do demons even lay eggs?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll back down. This is Denam’s birthday, after all.” Kalon sat back down.

“Fine, you’re on. But let me assure you, if you’ve got any sort of… illegal substances on you that you’re going to try and deal me...”

“Relax, I’m not a lyrium smuggler. Just a normal guy looking to have a fun night at the bar.”

“Okay, fine. Let’s go. So long as you’re supplying the liquor, I haven’t got the funds. We templars don’t get paid enough for what we do, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, I’ll supply the liquor, don’t you worry.” The man put the coin purse away and took out two bottles of a reddish liquid.

“The hardest wine you’ll find in Markham. Tell me when you’re ready and we’ll go.”

“Hardest? This guy isn’t fucking around. You sure about this, Denny?”

“Relax, Tom. Denam’s no lightweight, and this guy already looks drunk to me. This’ll be easy peasy.”

“Then you watch just to be sure nothing goes wrong, Kalon. I’ve got to be back at the Circle for my next shift.”

Thomas stood up, and so did Rosalie.

“I’ve got to leave too. Thanks for the drinks, Kalon, and happy birthday, Denam.”

With that, Rosalie and Thomas stood up and left the bar.

“I’m ready.” Denam pulled the cork off of his drink and tipped some of the contents of the bottle into his mouth.

Stronger stuff than Denam was used to, but no matter. He’d take the coin and whatever else this guy was offering easy.

“Hmm... we’ll see how truly prepared you are.”

The man took a drink from his own bottle, suddenly looking a lot less like he was drunk and a lot more focused. Could the behavior from before have been an act?

Still, Denam was prepared to do whatever it took to win. He was a proud templar, and wasn’t about to be upstaged by some random drunk off the street.

Denam took another swallow from the bottle he had been given, this time drinking more than he had the last time. The stuff burned his throat as it went down, but Denam remained unfazed.

Time went on, and so did the drinking contest. Looking back at the table, Denam realized that Kalon must have gone back to his shift as well. Had Kalon said anything before leaving? Denam had been so caught up in winning the drinking contest, he hadn’t noticed.

“Okay, I think that’s it for me. You’ve only got a little to go, finish that and the contest’s yours.”

Denam gulped down the last of the liquid in the bottle, sealing the deal.

“...Shee? I told you I’d win. Now hand over the coins.”

“All right... you’ve won them fair and square. Here.”

The man threw the bag over to Denam, who promptly dropped the bag on the floor. Thankfully, the bag was sealed well enough that the coins didn’t fall out, and Denam quickly picked the bag up and tied it to his belt.

“As for the other prize...”

“Hang on, I never got your name, shir.”

“It’s of little importance, but if you must know, I’m Wilfred.”

“I’m Denam... now what’s the other... woah!” Denam tried standing up to go claim his prize from Wilfred directly this time, but now the whole room was spinning.

“Hey!” Wilfred called to the lady at the bar. “Is there somewhere he can lie down for a bit?” 

The woman at the bar frowned slightly.

“We rent out rooms here, but it’s not free.”

“All right, I’ll pay you. I got him into this mess, it’s the least I could do to help.”

Soon enough, Wilfred had led Denam to one of the back rooms to lie down on a bed.

“About your second prize... here it is.”

Wilfred once again fished something out of his pockets, this time a bottle of… lyrium?

“You told me you weren’t a lyrium shmuggler!” 

With that said, Denam got out of bed and grabbed Wilfred by the shoulder, stumbling a bit as he pinned the man to the wall.

“Calm down, templar! I know templars all want a little... extra now and then, so I thought...”

“I’m turning you in, criminal!”

Denam got ready to throw a punch at the man before he could pull out a dagger or do something equally cheap, but something strange happened as he looked into the man’s eyes. 

Suddenly, Denam didn’t feel much like fighting. Even stranger, Denam didn’t flinch when the man actually did pull out a dagger... but it wasn’t Denam he cut with it.

“Bl... bl... blood...”

“Why don’t you lie back down, templar?”

Wilfred helped Denam back into the bed, the man’s arm now bleeding from a self-inflicted dagger wound.

Now Denam was alone in a backroom with a blood mage and so sloshed he could hardly even stand on his own. And yet… everything was going to be okay. The Maker wouldn’t let him die like this, right? Denam just needed to do as the blood mage said, and it would all turn out all right.

“Now, this isn’t your average Chantry-given lyrium, oh no. This is something special. How special, you might be wondering? Well, you’ll just have to see. Now drink up, templar, and don’t worry about me. I’ll be long gone by the time your lyrium-based powers come into play here.”

Wilfred propped Denam up in bed and uncorked the “special” lyrium bottle. Denam obediently opened his mouth as the blood mage tipped the “special” lyrium down his throat.

There was indeed something strange about the lyrium. It seemed rather grainy and unusually strong-tasting. Wait, was this the blood mage’s plan? Overdosing Denam on unusually strong lyrium and leaving him for dead?

Denam coughed, feeling like he had just swallowed a bottle of wet sand.

“Now, just lay down and let the lyrium work its magic... While I slip off into the night. They should find your corpse in the morning. Sweet dreams!”

“No, stop... I.. hic… ugh!”

“Wait… one more thing. Just so you don’t ruin my plans by vomiting it all on the floor...”

Wilfred made one more small incision on his arm with the dagger, and suddenly Denam felt a lot less nauseous.

“There, that should seal your fate. Oh, and one more thing before you face the Void-- my name isn’t Wilfred, it’s Leonard! Yes, that Leonard. The infamous templar-killing blood mage that escaped Kirkwall 5 years ago!”

“No! I can’t- urgh.” 

Denam tried to force himself to get up and give chase, but he just couldn’t stand, let alone run, so he watched the blood mage slip through the door.

Then, before Denam could begin to call for help, he felt his consciousness slipping away. Is this how it would all end? Death at the hands of a maleficar, the exact type of threat templars were supposed to be able to subdue and save others from?

Back in the Markham Circle, Margaret bolted upright in bed. The same rabbit-demon had appeared in her dream, except this time it had carried a warning. “Be careful of the templar Kalon,” It had said. Margaret had told the rabbit that this was nothing new, most of the templars were scary brutes. But no, the rabbit had said, Kalon was... “something worse”.

Margaret rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed to see... Kalon watching. She gasped. How long had he been there, watching her sleep?

“Something wrong? You look… guilty of something. Possibly conversing with demons in the Fade? Tsk tsk. How many times does the Chantry have to tell you not to do that, girl?”

“It was the rabbit... again. The one I reported the other day to the Chantry Sister, I believe I saw you overhearing our conversation.” Margaret didn’t know exactly why she was telling this to Kalon of all templars, but she figured that being honest may be the best course of action.

“Oh, the rabbit. Well...” 

Kalon walked up to Margaret and stood behind the bed, leaning over to speak directly into her ear.

“Remember, mage. If you make any deals with demons, blood magic, possession, or otherwise, you know what may happen. Either I have to kill you, or…”

Kalon leaned in a little closer.

“Tranquility.”

Margaret shivered, remembering the tranquil around the tower and what it must be like to be robbed of not only her magic, but her emotions.

“Now...” Kalon paced back around the bed, and back to the doorframe he had been standing in before.

“Get some sleep, but be wary of that rabbit and other demons. They prey on the weak.”

Margaret had a feeling that preying on the “weak” was one of Kalon’s favorite hobbies too, or at least he considered mages “weak” against his big, pointy sword and templar abilities. However, there was no way she’d say that to his face. The last thing she needed to do now was to sass a templar.

“Yes, ser.”

As much as Margaret wished she could fall back asleep into the comfort of the Fade, she didn’t think she’d manage any more sleep that night with Kalon pacing the halls.

“Urgh...” 

“Denam!”

“...Kalon?”

“We thought we’d lost you last night!”

“Where... ow, my head.”

“Lie back down, Denam. You need the rest.”

“Knight-Commander Julian? What’s happening? Am I in trouble?”

“Nah, he was just worried about you, you’re not in trouble that I know of. ...right?”

“No, you’re not in trouble, Denam... but I do have something to ask of you and Kalon.”

“...ask? What’s going on? I can’t remember anything that happened last night.”

“Last night... you were the target of a templar-killing blood mage.”

Denam tried hard to remember what had gone on… but nothing was coming to him.

“Remember, it was your birthday, and I took you to the bar?”

“I... no, Kalon. I don’t remember.”

“The bartender found you passed out on the bed after the blood mage made his escape. When you awakened, you kept telling her to get you back to the Markham Circle. She helped you there, and you told us that the famed blood mage Leonard the Templar Slayer had tricked you into drinking improperly filtered lyrium and that you thought you were going to die.”

“So… then how am I alive now, Knight-Commander ser?”

“We’re… not really sure. The mage healers in this room think that you have an innate resistance to large doses of lyrium. Usually, that’s found in older templars who have had more exposure to lyrium, but you seem to be an exception.”

“Something I’m sure ol’ Leonard wasn’t expecting,” Kalon added.

“...okay. So, about that favor you were going to ask, Knight-Commander?”

“Right. Well, when Leonard the Templar Slayer escaped from Kirkwall five years ago, he made sure to blood-magic one of the templars into helping him destroy his phylactery in the middle of the night, so we’ve virtually no way to track him down now, except...”

“Except what, ser?”

“He’s not going to rest easy until he’s finished you off. When he sets his sights on killing a particular templar, he doesn’t give up easily. I want you and Kalon to go and find Leonard, and take him alive. He is to be made tranquil, an example to all mages thinking they can do the same thing.”

“Yes, ser. Just the two of us?”

“No, I want a mage to come with you. There’s safety in numbers, and you might need the extra firepower. At the First Enchanter’s request, I’m sending Megan.”

“Megan, seriously? After she tried to run away and her friend killed one of our own?”

“Yes, Kalon. I’ve heard... rumors of your erm... fraternizing with the mages. As much as I’ve tried to quash such rumors, I haven’t completely turned the other way. I know Megan is one mage that won’t give in to your... charm.”

“All right, fine. So Megan comes with us. When do we leave?”

“As soon as possible, after we give Denam time to rest. Be wary though, that blood mage may not be the worst that’s out there.”

“What could possibly be worse?”

“Well, as you know, there’s a Blight going on in Ferelden. Even here in the Free Marches, there have been rumors of Darkspawn.”

“Darkspawn? Here?”

“Yes, Kalon, here. Just... be careful.”

Chapter Text

“So, let me get this straight. We’re going out in Darkspawn-infested territory to find an infamous templar-killing blood mage whose phylactery was destroyed five years ago when we don’t even know what direction he’s gone in.”

“Are you sassing me, Megan? We may be away from the Circle for a bit, but I’m still in charge of you.” Kalon demanded.

“No ser, I’m just trying to clarify our mission.”

“Technically...” Denam added in with a sigh, “I’m in charge here out of the three of us, and that’s only partially correct. First of all, we have no solid record of Darkspawn, but we still need to keep our eyes open for them. Second of all… well, I guess that’s technically correct. We don’t know which way the blood mage went, we’re just going on the fact he’s going to try to ambush me. Listen, Megan, just between the three of us-- I don’t know about this either, but I’m not one to question the Knight-Commander.”

“Fair enough. At least the Knight-Commander let us ride horses.” Megan shrugged.

"You’re just lucky you got horse riding training in your youth. Otherwise you’d have been left behind for another mage or templar.” Denam shook his head.

“It is good to be out again, even if it’s in the company of two templars, one of which has my phylactery in case I somehow decide to ride off.”

“‘Somehow’, huh? Like you haven’t tried to escape before? And remember, I’ve got my bow and arrows now, so if you decide to try anything, I’ll shoot you right down. Probably wouldn’t even need the phylactery.”

“Wouldn’t even dream of it, Kalon, you have my word.”

“For all the good that’s worth...” Kalon muttered.

Megan decided that Kalon’s attempt at provocation wasn’t worth reacting to.

The group rode onwards for a good few hours, with no luck.

“He hasn’t tried to ambush us yet, maybe this is a lost cause. The horses are getting tired, and I have a feeling we’re going in the wrong direction."

“I don’t know, Kalon, the Knight-Commander seemed to think he’d be following us the whole time, lurking nearby. Maybe we just need to wait for him to show himself.”

“If the creep’s been following us the whole time, why are we even riding around looking for him? For all we know, he could be leading us right into a trap.”

“I do not question the Knight-Commander’s intentions. Maybe we should tie up the horses and rest for a bit. What do you think, Kalon?”

“Sounds fine to me, just everybody stay on your guard.”

This whole thing seemed ridiculous to Megan, but who was she to argue with a couple of templars? The group dismounted, tied up the horses, and sat down to make plans. Unfortunately, it was only Denam and Kalon who were making the plans, Megan had to wait a short distance away. Stupid templars and their stupid secrecy. Why couldn’t Megan listen in?

It wasn’t long that Megan had to wait before she saw a man approaching. Was this the blood mage? Before Megan could take out her staff, she was relieved to see that he had the distinctive blue armor that Grey Wardens wear. Wait, did that mean that there were Darkspawn nearby? Maybe it was too early to be relieved.

“What are you three doing out in this area? Don’t you know there are Darkspawn lurking nearby?”

Denam and Kalon stopped whispering to each other and stood up.

“We’re out looking for a blood mage. The little shit tried to kill my brother-in-arms Denam a couple of nights ago at a bar.”

“Hang on... that maleficar... it was you! Which Grey Warden did you kill to get that Warden outfit?”

“You sure, Denam? Then before he can pull any tricks...” Kalon took out his bow and began to aim an arrow at the man’s chest.

“No, this is a mistake! I didn’t kill any Grey Wardens, I am one! And I don’t know what you’re talking about, templar. I didn’t try to kill anybody.”

“No, you tried to kill me last night, blood mage. Leonard the Templar Slayer, is it not? You look too much like him to be somebody else."

“That’s what they used to call me… but my templar-slaying days are over since I joined the Grey Wardens.”

“You joined the Wardens last night?” Denam raised an eyebrow.

“No, about a year ago. I was sent here to look for and kill Darkspawn.”

“Why would the wardens send a known ‘former’ serial killer to hunt down Darkspawn alone? And a mage no less?” Denam questioned.

As far as Megan was concerned, this was all getting rather hard to follow.

“They… didn’t. My companions, Maker rest their souls, were taken out by Darkspawn in an attack about five days ago.”

“So the rest of your group died, and instead of altering Markham about a possible impending Darkspawn invasion, you go and try to kill me?”

“I haven’t even been to Markham yet, let alone try to kill any templars. I’m a changed man now that I joined the Wardens. I was on my way to Markham just now.”

“Liar. You tried to kill me a couple of nights ago. Drinking contest, bad lyrium and all that?”

“I’m not sure what is going on or how you recognized me, but I’m assuming you had one bad trip to the Fade, templar. May I suggest a demon is possibly messing with us?"

“It’s not a demon, you lying scum... or if there is a demon involved, I’m sure you’re the one who summoned it.”

“Can I just shoot him, Denam? If the Wardens come knocking, we can play his game and tell him it was the Darkspwan.”

Denam appeared to be considering his options when the sound of running horses appeared to be approaching the group. The three horses Megan, Denam, and Kalon had rode turned their heads to face the direction of the noise.

“Don’t shoot, I think there’s a better fate in store for the Templar and now Warden-killing filth.”

“Yes, looks like our plan worked nicely,” Kalon grinned, not lowering his bow, but not shooting, either.

“Plan?” Leonard suddenly looked worried. “Don’t tell me there’s more than three of you following this stupid templar’s drunk Fade hallucination?”

“We’ve found you, Leonard! Don’t think that killing a Warden and taking his clothes can protect you now!”

Wait, what? Why wasn’t Megan in on this?

“Knight-Commander Julian? What else wasn’t I told?” Megan wasn’t too surprised the templars had made a plan without telling her, but it still stung a little to have been kept out of the loop the whole time.

“I’ll explain later, Megan, but you did your part well. Now let us deal with this lowlife.”

How much more complicated was this day going to get? It seemed Knight-Commander Julian had arrived with about five other templars, all on horseback.

“I didn’t kill any Wardens! The rest of my group died against Darkspawn. If the lot of you aren't careful, you’ll all be next!"

“All right, so if you really are a Warden whose team was killed by Darkspawn, where are the Darkspawn now? Why didn’t you alert us when you came into Markham?”

“I didn’t come into Markham, Knight-Commander! I was on my way through the Vimmark Mountains when my group of Wardens ran into a large group of Darkspawn. We were terribly outnumbered, and I barely escaped alive. I was on my way to Markham to spread the news of the Spawn when your templar brigade stopped me.”

“Fine, we’ll hold you at the Circle and contact the Wardens to see if your story checks out. If not… tranquility awaits.”

“I’m not lying, Knight-Commander. I- wait. I think we’ve attracted Darkspawn attention.”

“Darkspawn? Here? Now?” Knight-Commander Julian raised an eyebrow.

“On your guard, everyone! I’d get off those horses and be ready.”

“This better not be a trap,” the Knight-Commander warned, dismounting his horse. The other templars followed suit, dismounting and tying up their horses as well.

“The horses certainly seem nervous.” The Knight-Commander observed. Is it really Darkspawn? Or has the maleficar summoned demons?

Sure enough, a hail of arrows came flying at the group, but it seemed Leonard was ready. He had already prepared a magical barrier to deflect the arrows, which all missed their targets. What a powerful mage, Megan was unsure if anybody in the Circle could do that. Well, some probably could, but it was still impressive.

“Genlock archers! I’ll try and take care of them, you focus on the approaching Hurlocks!” 

Knight-Commander Juilan seemed rather annoyed that a maleficar that had (allegedly) tried to take out one of his templars was now ordering him around, but still listened. After all, it seemed this guy really was a Grey Warden.

Megan separated further from the templars and also focused her efforts on taking out the Genlock Archers. A well-aimed fireball was enough to weaken them for Leonard to finish off. The Spawn shrieked as their clammy skin lit aflame, and Leonard took advantage of the brief moment to send a chain lightning through the creatures.

Meanwhile, it looked like the Hurlocks had been taken out by the eight templars.

“Did anybody get injured?” asked Knight-Commander Julien, obviously concerned about the Blight the Darkspawn carried being spread.

It seemed that nobody had been injured, thankfully.

“All right, good. I want Leonard there taken into Circle custody while I contact the Grey Wardens. Denam, you did your job perfectly, I’m going to promote you to Knight-Corporal once the dust settles.”

“Knight-Commander, it may be a little early to hand out promotions right now.”

“Why are you telling me how to do my job, Leonard?”

“No, it’s just that we have more company. Big company.”

Leonard was right, Megan could hear thunderous footsteps coming from down the hill.

As the Ogre approached, Kalon sent an arrow into its torso, but it wasn’t nearly enough to stop the giant Darkspawn beast. The creature roared and began to charge towards Kalon and the other templars.

However, Leonard seemed to have a plan. He took out a dagger and cut into his arm, then began to channel blood magic. It didn’t seem enough to completely control the creature, but he at least was able to blood magick it in place for a few moments.

“Attack!” Knight Commander Julian and most of the other templars began to hack and slash at the Ogre with their swords and maces, while Kalon aimed an arrow at the creature’s face.

The arrow flew, hitting the Ogre right in the eye. As the creature cried out in agony, Megan carefully approached closer and aimed a blast of fire at its face. The Ogre fell forward and into the ground.

Finally, Denam took advantage of the opportunity and sliced its head off with his greatsword. The templars cheered as Denam quickly backed off from the fountain of infected blood coming from its severed neck.

Once the cheering died down, Knight-Commander Julian informed the templars to watch for signs of blight infection over the next few weeks since they had been fighting Darkspawn. Once that discussion was over with, the Knight-Commander told Kalon and Denam to take back the maleficar on foot while the other templars and Megan rode back to the Circle first.

It had been a long, confusing day, but at least it was almost over.

The ride back was uneventful, and Megan soon heard that Kalon and Denam had successfully brought Leonard back to the Circle to stay captive for his alleged crimes. Having been proven a Warden, tranquility now seemed unlikely, though.

However, in the weeks that passed, the charges were dropped due to lack of solid evidence and Leonard joined some more newly arrived Wardens patrolling the area for Darkspawn.

Megan wondered if Leonard the (former?) Templar Slayer would ever go back to killing templars again, but since she was a mage and not actually a templar, she wasn’t so concerned. Maybe he’d come back and kill Kalon? Hah, as if she’d be so lucky.

Chapter Text

“Wait, what? Willard isn’t a mage, Hannah, he’s a templar. You say you’re in love with him?” Megan gawked.

“Don’t look at me like that, Megan. It’s not like it’s the first time a mage has fallen for a templar.”

“Yeah, and we all know how it’s ended for every mage in that circumstance. Spoiler: not well. What makes you think this will end any differently?”

“Megan, please. I’ve come to you for advice, not mockery and doom-saying.”

Megan sighed. If she was going to convince Hannah out of this strange romantic obsession, she would have to use tact. “Tact” wasn’t exactly Megan’s strong suit, but if it was going to save Hannah from a grim fate at the hands of the templars and the Chantry, she’d have to try.

“Okay, fine. First of all, what if he’s not into you? I mean, it is against his Oath to fall for a mage.”

“W-well, whenever I pass him in the hallway, I see him trying to steal looks at me, then quickly looking down like he’s done something wrong. When I lost track of time in the library and it was past our bedtime, and he came to tell me that I needed to go to bed, he started off firm but stammered a bit at the end of his command, and ended with, ‘please’. I’ve never heard him say ‘please’ like that when demanding things from the other mages. Then he looked like there was something he wanted to say, but he quickly walked out, motioning me to follow him to my room so I could go to bed. A-and just yesterday when Willard was on duty to watch me in the bath, I swear I saw him blushing through his helmet.”

Megan shook her head. The whole “tactful” part wasn’t going to be easy when the whole thing was just so painfully wrong.

“Hannah, when a person is held captive, sometimes the prisoner can develop feelings for their captor. It’s a well-documented effect which I read about in a book once.”

“Yeah, I think I may have read the same book. Which would make sense, because there’s only so many books here in the Circle’s library. Anyway, what does that have to do with me? You don’t think that applies to Willard and I, do you? He’s not holding me captive in the first place, the Chantry is. The templars just follow the Chantry’s orders.”

“I think it’s perfectly applicable, to be frank. Even if the Chantry is ultimately in control of the Templars, they’re the ones that watch us and enforce the rules. They are, essentially, our captors.”

Hannah frowned.

“Between Willard and I, it’s not like that! He’s just a nice person, and clearly, we both have feelings for each other.”

At that moment, it took all of Megan’s resolve to keep a straight face and not snort or make a sarcastic remark. However, she was well used to not making faces or wry statements when the templars gave their orders. In the end, this fact was probably what saved the situation.

“Hannah, please listen. You’re only 18 years old, and you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Yes, maybe it’s a given that your whole life, or at least most of it, will be cooped up in here, but you have to listen to me. Crushes will come and go, and it’s just not worth throwing everything away for one person who’s likely going to put his job above you in the end.”

“Well, how about you? Have you ever secretly fallen for a templar?”

“No, of course not. Well, I have to admit, a couple of the female templars here are kind of cute... but I’d never, ever, think of trying to start a relationship with one. It just wouldn’t work out, and it won’t go well for you either, trust me.”

“Megan, I think I’m going to do it. I’m going to tell him how I feel, and see how it goes from there.”

“Were you listening to anything I just said? I- hang on.”

Megan stood up and walked over to the door of the storage room she and Hannah were hiding out in. Pressing her ear to the door, Megan could hear the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps on the stone flooring outside.

“Just as I thought, there’s a templar outside the door. I don’t know if they’re here for the storage room or will look inside, but we should probably slip out while we can.”

Hannah nodded and stood up as well.

“What were the two of you doing in there?” The templar, a thirty-something year old man Megan recognized as Delbert, questioned the two mages.

“Nothing much, one of the the tranquil mages in the kitchen told us to fetch some ingredients for dinner, and we didn’t have too much else to do, so we figured we’d help.”

“I don’t see either of you carrying ingredients, Megan.”

“Oh, right. Well, the room didn’t have what we were looking for. We’ll have to go look somewhere else.”

Delbert regarded the two mages with suspicion, but nevertheless let them go on their way.

When Megan and Hannah were out of the templar’s earshot, Megan made one last attempt at convincing Hannah to abandon her futile romance.

“Please Hannah, don’t do anything rash. I know you have feelings for him, but don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“Don’t worry about me. Oh, and thanks for the advice.” With that said, Hannah walked off.

One thing was sure, Megan was worried.

“So, you really do like her, but the Chantry forbids mage-templar relations. A story as old as time, I’m afraid.”

“I came to you because you seem like one of the more... experienced templars. That and you’re one of the few who I wouldn’t expect to go running to the Chantry with my secrets.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Willard. After all, the Fade doesn’t need to know all your secrets, either. Well, it already would, but I can assure you it didn’t learn them from me. Joking aside, you’ve got a choice to make. You can try and carry this relationship out in secret, or you can break it off and call it a loss. Neither would be a terribly satisfying ending, but that’s the way it is.”

“I haven’t decided yet, but say I chose the first one. What then, Kalon?”

Kalon closed his eyes, smiled, and shook his head. Did this rookie not know the first thing about secret relationships? Well, the first thing would obviously be to keep them secret, and Kalon was sure Willard understood that, but it seemed he needed help with the rest.

“First, you have to let her know how you feel. Do you think she feels the same way?”

“Yeah, probably. At least from what I’ve seen.”

“Good, that’s a start. First, I’d say to arrange a secret meeting. Maybe leave her a slip of paper with a time and location (in the Circle, of course) on it? If you were wrong about her feelings, and she reports you for it, just tell your superiors that it was meant to be for a meeting with another templar, and you dropped it by accident. That should get you out of trouble.”

“You’ve been here for nearly two decades, Kalon, you must have some personal experience with this, right?”

“Me? I’ve seen this sort of song and dance happen more times than I can count. If you’re asking if I’ve ever fallen for a mage, though? I tend to put some of my stipend towards more, well, realistic pleasures. I’d advise you’d do the same.”

From Willard’s expression, Kalon could tell that the young templar didn’t fully believe him, but what did that matter? Rumors were rumors, and the Circle never had a shortage of them.

“Okay, so you still want to know how to keep a romance secret. Once you’ve established that both of you have feelings for each other, you need to put your hand firmly on her shoulder. Then you have to drill in the importance of keeping your relationship out of the prying eyes of the Chantry, other templars, or anybody else who might mess it up for you. Once she agrees, you pull her close for a kiss. Then, the two of you part ways for the night.”

“Okay, then what?” Willard asked, appearing to be making mental notes.

“After that, it gets tricky. If you want to progress the relationship further, you have to be sneaky about it. There’s an empty storage room in an area that tends to be not very well-patrolled at night, so I’d start there for a good meeting location for the first time. Just make sure that whatever you do, you do not get her pregnant. That won’t end well. I mean, with you taking lyrium and all, it’s a low chance, but still something that can happen on... rare occasions..”

“Again, you speak as if you have first-hand experience with this, Kalon.”

“I’ve seen a lot in my years, none of it first-hand, though. I take my Vows seriously, Willard.”

“Right. I’ll go think about what you’ve said some more and decide if I should write that note.”

“I’m on the clock soon, so I’ve got to go get ready. See you around.”

Hannah thought about all that Megan had said. Yes, there were risks, but as the saying goes, love overcomes, right? If Willard truly did love her back, they would find a way. The Chantry and the other templars would be none the wiser. First, however, she needed to know exactly how Willard felt. As far as she knew, he was off-duty now, and possibly not even in the building. It seems she’d have to wait until later.

At dinner, Hannah could see Willard eating a few tables over. He would sometimes look up from his plate and over at Hannah, then quickly back down. Hannah didn’t know whether it was her imagination or not, but Willard seemed even more nervous than he usually seemed around her.

Dinner ended, and since this wasn’t the best place to try and address Willard without others noticing, Hannah decided to go to her room in the apprentice mage dormitories.

However, it seemed one of the templars was following her. Looking back. Hannah saw Willard walking behind her. She stopped, and he stopped too. Then, he turned around and walked the other direction. However, when he turned, something fell out of his hand.

Hannah walked over to the spot where the object had fluttered to the ground. It was a small, folded-up slip of paper. Hannah was about to yell to Willard that he had dropped something, but he had already gone around the corner and out of sight.

Curious as to what the paper said, Hannah opened it up. It said: “Meet me in the Northeast hallway, midnight tonight”.

How strange. Hannah wondered if it was meant for her or for somebody else. Though thinking back, it did seem like a pretty deliberate act to follow her and drop a piece of paper before hurrying off. She would have to sneak out of bed and to that location to see what this all was about.

At what had to be soon before midnight, Hannah waited until the templar who was guarding the dormitories had turned and walked away from her door. Quietly, she slipped out of bed, grabbed her robe, and snuck out of the room and down the hallway, avoiding the gaze of the templars guarding the halls.

Hannah headed up the stairs and to the hallway mentioned in the notes. It was deserted at the moment, thankfully. Now to wait for Willard to show up.

Midnight must have passed, and Hannah was getting worried that one of the templars might go into her room and realize that she wasn’t in the bed. Should she go back to bed? It seemed like the safer option.

However, before long, Hannah could hear the unmistakable sound of leather boots walking on the stone floor. Was it Willard?

The templar approached, and Hannah wondered if she should make a break for it, or if it could actually be Willard.

Well, it was too late now, as the templar had closed the distance between them. As he drew closer, he took off his helmet. It was, unmistakable by the light of the hallway torch, Willard.

“Willard.” Hannah pulled down her hood so that the templar could get a better look at her face.

“Hannah. I wasn’t sure you’d come here, or even get the note.”

“I’m here.”

Willard hesitated for a second before speaking.

“Hannah, I know I’m not supposed to have these feelings, or worse, act on them, but I think I’ve fallen for you.”

“I was hoping you’d say something like that. I’ve fallen in love with you, too.”

“Hannah, I..."

Willard lifted his hand, and firmly placed it on Hannah’s shoulder.

“We have to keep this between the two of us. You can’t tell anybody else.”

They would have to keep their forbidden relationship secret, that was clear. What would Hannah say to Megan, though? She supposed if Megan asked, she could deny involvement. It wouldn’t feel right lying, but a promise was a promise.

“I- I understand. I won’t tell anyone else.”

“Good.”

Hannah and Willard stared into each other’s eyes for several moments. Then, much to Hannah’s surprise, Willard pulled her forward into a kiss.

Once their lips met, Hannah closed her eyes allowing herself to become lost in the moment. The Circle, the Chantry, the templar’s duty to watch, but not interact with the mages, was suddenly all a distant dream. All that mattered was Willard, and his love for her. This was their life together, and nobody would be able to pry them apart.

Then, as quickly as it had started, the fantasy was over, and Hannah and Willard parted. The world, and the realization of its harsh reality came rushing back. It was time for Hannah to hurry back to bed before the templars realized she had gone.

“I should get back to my bed. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Goodbye, we’ll meet again soon.”

With that, Hannah left Willard and headed back to bed. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like the templar guarding the hallway had noticed she had left.

The next morning, Hannah woke up with a renewed hope in the world. Despite being stuck in the Circle, maybe, just maybe, she could make the best out of things. This feeling continued until breakfast, when she spotted Willard standing by one of the tables, looking positively downtrodden.

What could be wrong? Did something happen? Suddenly, Hannah didn’t feel like eating. She stood up, and walked over to Willard. Maybe they could discuss things quietly in the hallway.

“Willard, I-”

The templar looked up at Hannah with a solemn expression.

“I’m sorry, Hannah. It’s not going to work out.”

“You can’t just- not here!”

What was Willard thinking, discussing things in public. Had somebody found out about what had happened last night, and ratted them out?

“It’s all right, the Circle leadership knows, and before you start wondering, it was me who told them. I talked to a Chantry sister early this morning in private about it, and it’s not going to work out. This kind of relationship never does.”

“But- we- just...”

Hannah took a deep breath, but it didn’t stop her from tearing up. She had thought Willard was everything to her, and he decided to just cast it all off on a whim? Was this what all templars were like?

“Hannah, I’m sorry, I promise you this is for the best. Templars and mages... It’s just not meant to be. If only-”

“No, shut up, Willard. I thought you were different from the rest of the templars... but now I see you’re all the same!”

With that said, Hannah ran out of the dining hall, tears streaming down her face. She had just yelled at a templar, which was very much against Circle rules. So was kissing a templar, of course. At this point though, consequences be damned. What could the Circle do to her that was worse than a broken heart?

Hannah went back to her room in the apprentices quarter, and lay face down on her bed, sobbing into the pillow. Had Willard just been playing with her emotions? Why had he kissed her, just to break up the next morning? It made no sense.

After crying herself back to sleep, Hannah found herself in her old town, which was located in Ferelden. Usually, Hannah would catch that this was impossible and this must be the Fade, being a decently talented mage, even though she hadn’t undergone her Harrowing yet. In her emotional state however, she wasn’t sure how she had gotten there.

“Hannah, you have to get indoors and hide!”

It was Hannah’s older brother, who was not a mage.

“Why do I need to hide? Are we being attacked?”

“The templars are coming! You’ll get caught and dragged off. I won’t let them take you to the Circle! Now come back in!”

“Right!”

Hannah followed her older brother to their house, and went indoors.

“Hide down there, in the cellar. I’ll tell them nobody’s here but me.”

“O-okay.”

Hannah hid, and closed the cellar door. However, she put her ear to the door, in order to hear what the templars and her brother were saying.

After a knock on the door, she heard her brother answering.

“Greetings, good templar sir. How may I help you?”

“We’re looking for a mage girl named Hannah. Is she around?”

Something about the templar’s voice sounded familiar, but Hannah couldn’t put her finger on why.

“No, I’m afraid she’s out right now, sir.”

“Surely you wouldn’t mind if I have a look around, then, no?”

“Come right in, then, I suppose.”

Please don’t find me, please don’t find me , Hannah thought.

Soon enough, however, the cellar door began to slowly open, and Hannah found herself looking at a man in armor bearing the templar insignia.

“There you are, Hannah. I’ve been looking for you.”

Looking into the man’s eyes, the templar looked familiar even with his helmet obscuring most of his face.

“Willard?”

“Yes, I’m here to take you back to the Circle. I’ve been following your phylactery for weeks now.”

“I’m not going back! You’ll have to take me by force!”

“Then I will.”

Willard drew a mace from his belt, and seemed to be getting ready to hit Hannah with it. Well, if Willard was going to use dangerous force, then Hannah would too. Preferably before Willard could channel much templar power into the mace.

Hannah drew magic from the Fade, and blasted Willard with frigid cold air. He seemed to freeze in place. The mage then pushed the templar out of the way and ran out of her house. Soon enough, however, her pursuer was back.

“Not another step! I’ll freeze you in place again!”

“Bring it on, mage!”

As Willard approached, Hannah shot blasts of ice at him. However, she could feel her magic weakening under his lyrium-aided templar powers.

As he got closer, slowed down by the bursts of cold, Hannah felt herself running out of mana. Finally, Willard caught up, but instead of hitting her with his mace, he simply grabbed her by the collar.

“I’m taking you back to the Circle, whether you like it or not!”

“Please, Willard, I don’t want to go back!”

Before he could tie up her wrists though, a blast of fire hit Willard square in the side of the head. He yelped in pain and jumped back, leaving Hannah to move away from him. Hannah looked over at her savior, and saw...her brother?

“You’re a mage?”

“Yeah, I’ve been hiding it, too. Listen, if you want to defeat this templar and punish him for breaking your heart, you’ll have to do this spell I’ll teach you. It will give you the power to resist the templars.”

“It... it’s not blood magic, is it?”

“Nah, only Fade demons are capable of teaching you that, and they usually ask for something in return. The spell I’ll teach you will allow you to summon a friendly spirit to fight for you.”

“Hang on. This is the Fade, no?”

Everything was coming back to Hannah. The incident in the Circle, and the fact she hadn’t actually ran away. There was no way her brother was a mage, either.

“Clever mage. Well, I still do have the power to help you, you just need to call on me whenever you need me. I’ll be here, waiting...”

With that, everything seemed to be going out of focus. The Fade melted away, and Hannah soon found herself slowly opening her eyes to a very familiar ceiling.

“Hannah, wake up!”

Hannah slowly sat up in bed to find herself surrounded by three templars. Willard was not among them.

“I talked to the Knight-Captain, and he seemed to think it best to have you on watch for a time.”

“Oh, o-okay.”

One of the other three templars stepped forwards. It was Kalon, the templar known around the Circle for being unnecessarily tough on mages.

“First of all, what made you think you could disrespect the rules of the Circle like that? You‘re just lucky you weren’t thrown in a cell.”

“I’m sorry, Kalon, I just-”

“Well, that’s enough talking, we don’t want to look like we’re fraternizing with the mage bitch. Wouldn’t like to get into trouble like Willard did.”

“Right Kalon, let’s step back a bit.”

“Willard? What happened to him? Not- not that I care, but...”

“Just go back to sleep, mage. We’re done talking.”

Hannah couldn’t bring herself to sleep, not after that demon had approached her last time. She would have to stay awake with all her terrible feelings for now.