Chapter Text
Their surroundings were completely dark, reflecting the blue glow of his eyes and scars off of the wet, stone walls around him. Anders’ body felt too cold as if he were another corpse that Justice had been forced to possess. The gentle beating of his heart and the whisper of a breath from his throat were the only signs he was still alive on his own.
Justice breathed deeper, feeling a thick weight on Anders’ lungs and limbs. Some sort of paralyzing potion was administered to him. From what he could tell, he was sleeping for the entire night. Justice tried to see the cracks around his fingers and noticed that their hands were bound behind them. They were captured.
As much as he knew he could break the chains, Justice focused his attention completely on keeping Anders functioning. He breathed more air, trying to keep his blood flowing into his limbs. Justice could feel his body warming up little by little. Time passed with barely a sound besides water dripping from stone.
The sun came up gradually, sliding a thin blade of light through a crack above his head. He managed to lean Anders to the left, looking up and around just a bit more. The crack was small, but told Justice that they were just below the surface.
In and out, wind in lungs. Twitch the joints for blood flow. Over and over. The connection to the fade was weak, but just enough to keep him going.
A loud creak popped and more sunlight beamed down from above. Justice receded.
Two men in Tevinter-style short robes stepped into view from what looked like cellar stairs. One carried a bottle of brown-red liquid and a dagger. The other, a staff and a wet cloth. As the bottle-carrying one stepped forward, justice could feel his presence as a warmth and stink of ale on Anders’ face. Two thick fingers pressed under his nose, feeling for breath. Since Justice couldn't front completely, his breath had receded to a tiny stream.
“He's still alive.”
“How responsive is he?”
A sudden, hard slap to the cheek whipped Anders’ head back to its original side. No resistance was given, but Justice was beginning to rage. To keep Anders safe, he stayed below. No cracks, no glow. Even he was aware of the consequences of another mage finding out about him. It took a lot of will to bite his hypothetical tongue.
“Not.”
“We gave him far beyond the lethal dosage. It must be true then. This is Anders.”
“I'm surprised his demon hasn't come out. Maybe the connection to the fade is cutting him off too.”
So they already knew about him. There should be no reason for him to hide. Unfortunately, Justice could tell that his presence was weaker, like a thick moss growing over a pond; It was much denser than he's ever felt. Justice realized how much energy was being used just to stay inside and not disappear again. So they've used Magebane? Justice can only recall one instance of it, but Anders was able to combat it quickly when Justice kept his connection to the fade tethered to the mage.
What did they do to him?
The staff-wielder bent down this time, placing the rag of water on Anders’ lips. Tilting the mage's head back just a little, the Tevinter squeezed it into his mouth. Justice gently closed the entrance to his lungs for a moment to keep him from drowning.
“When do you think he will awaken?”
“If we are lucky, never.”
“I'm sure Valius wants to talk to him. Well, maybe not. He seemed so enraged at the sight of this abomination. Think he will kill this one?”
The staff-wielding mage stepped back from his feeding. “I think he might, after he awakens though. I'm sure he will want to hear the screams. He's kind of a freak like that.”
They walked away as the potion mage laughed at the insult. The door was shut and locked, and all was quiet.
They mentioned the mage that Fenris recognized, love. Can you hear me?
Nothing.
Justice pushed hard, falling back into the rhythm of breathing he had before. Hopefully, the paralyzing effect of the potion would wear off and Justice could move, even if Anders was unconscious.
It took three sunrises and three feedings of broth and water before Justice could move Anders’ fingers.
Justice had kept Anders breathing slowly for three full days. It was nearly impossible to tell his lungs were even moving. The spirit knew there was more to be done, but his focus was solely on this one task. He knew that any moment, this mage called Valius could arrive and strike them down. The pitiful death that awaited spurred Justice on.
The mage's face was pressed against the left wall. His mouth was barely open for breathing and his eyes were shut tight. His face held the lightning scars but the blue glimmer was faded in tone, almost to shadow. The magebane was still deep within his blood, keeping him sedated as deep as darkspawn.
Justice's calm presence continued to focus on the lungs and flow of blood, making sure he was passing the poison quickly.
Your time isn't here yet. Come back to me, love. The warrior has been influencing you, has he not? Let that fire burn you to life.
Justice never really felt desperation like this before, nor did he feel he was supposed to. He had tried singing anything he could to get the mage to open his eyes.
Magebane had never been something this dangerous or paralytic. Whomever made it had tampered with its usual properties. A potions master. Perhaps that one in the first group Anders was a part of right after Kirkwall? That man was a nasty piece of work. Justice mentally clenched his teeth, fueling his own motivation for vengeance. He could feel his energy crackling with a heat he had only felt once before. He couldn't see it, but Anders’ face began to radiate glowing blue from the cracks in his eye sockets. Freckles became marred with lightning-shaped scars. The glow spread down his neck, towards his shoulders.
And then Anders gasped, widening his eyes into a flash around him. The light burst white into the room, reflecting off of the wet bricks and metal chains. In his fit of waking, he pulled his wrists apart and the metal chains snapped off like they were made of clay. He panted quickly, reaching for his throat to feel if it was moving but his arms were so stiff, every movement hurt. In and out. In and out. Slowly, slowly, he could feel his breaths deepen and his cheeks return to normal. Fuzzy static creeped its way through his face, turning his pale lips pink again.
It seemed the Black City would turn gold if he went one week without getting into trouble. He blinked and tried to focus his eyes. His mind was fogged over with a burning numbness. Vengeance was there, and his blindfold was off. He still had all of his clothes, but his main dagger, staff, and pouches were gone, including the money from Anto. The act of leaning up carved more pain into his back and neck. He clenched his teeth hard and gently massaged his legs back to life. Everything felt half-numb as if he had too many lyrium potions after a night of binge-drinking.
There was no one around, and Anders could feel the crackling remnants of his demon on his cheeks. The shell of his skin reformed in a few breaths. Anders gave his fingers a once-over before he tried to stand. Legs shook and hands scraped but he could not hold himself up. In fact, the action he just took flipped his stomach hard and he braced his arms onto the floor to vomit. It was a thin, brown puddle and smelled of acid and rotting plants. Magebane.
Anders clenched his eyes and jaw in despair. All of the potential scenarios clouded his mind. The blood mage from the mountain? Anto? Any of the mages in Redcliffe? Fenris’ face popped into his mind. He wouldn't.
Or would he?
The faint tremor of Vengeance shook in disagreement.
He is on the side of justice. He protected us.
Oh, sure. He protected us by calling me mage in public to everyone around. He protected us by holding a gauntlet up to my gullet and threatening me because of you. I am not being protected, and I don't need it from him either. If anything, he needs protection from me should I go under again.
I would not see our companion slain by our hand.
Even if he continues calling you a demon?
My host has almost done that more than the warrior. I know now that is not the truth, so I do not bear insult. I am Justice, righteous, loyal. Even as you call me Vengeance, you know in your mind that is not me.
Then why-?
Before the question was finished, loud clanging noises echoed sharp and clear through the rough stone hall. Anders sat back against the wall and tied the broken chains behind him once more.
Feign sleep.
Anders did so.
The familiar Tevinter mages stepped in with a third. The new one was considerably strong-looking, and wore more red than the others.
Anders kept his eyes thin and his breathing slow. He was fortunate to not have that conversation with Justice aloud.
“He retched, but he's not awake. His body might be, though.”
“So that's what you heard? Him getting sick in his sleep?”
“So it would seem. I'm surprised he hasn't soiled himself yet.”
The new mage stepped forward, kneeling to the ground to stare Anders in the face.
Vengeance vibrated. He is going to hit you. Relax everything. I can help.
Anders listened, feeling his extremities numb.
A hard slap on his cheek swung his head into the stone behind him. Anders could tell there was supposed to be blooming pain on his skull, but he didn't feel it. No wince nor flinch escaped him. Vengeance was good.
“Still unresponsive. Oh well. Leave me to feed him today.” The deep voice of the new mage felt strong and reverberated through Anders’ ears.
Anders couldn't see what they were doing, but one of the mages got close as well, most likely to hand this stronger one what was to be used as his ‘food’. The two cohorts left without a word, locking the door behind them. No doubt there would be a secret knock or some amount of time before it would unlock again.
This new mage turned Anders’ numb chin to face him. Through the small crack in his eyes, Anders could barely see the short bearded human with a thick scar over his cheek. No other details were noticeable behind his eyelashes.
A thin ceramic bowl was placed on his lower lip and tilted. A thin bone broth seeped into his mouth and Anders had to do everything in his power to not swallow from reflex. Vengeance helped him open his esophagus and close his lungs.
The warm liquid flowed without pause until the cup was dry. It washed away the strong burn from the bile still lingering on his tongue. The hand left Anders’ chin as the unknown man reached down. Anders felt hands on his legs, causing his heart to shock in fear. He hoped that the racing in his chest wouldn't be noticeable.
Vengeance could feel himself wanting to front and barely managed to hold himself back. The loud, angry vibrations only added to the fearful tremors of Anders’ heart.
I can handle this. It's happened before. Just let it happen. We will pay him back.
I can bite his throat out right now. Why let him do this?
How many men are upstairs?
Vengeance quieted. He knew there were more than the other two. Perhaps the whole building was filled with Tevinter mages.
The bastard slid his hands further down to where Anders’ knees were bent and grabbed his calves, gently unbending Anders’ legs and stretching them out. Carefully, he shifted Anders up by his arms to lean straight against the wall. The momentum made Anders slump his head forward, his untied hair waterfalling over him.
“Is your demon going to come out to play?” His voice was tired and deep.
Anders knew his hair covered his face so he opened his eyes enough to see his lap. His pants were dirty with dust and mud. The stranger's hands rested on either side of Anders’ seated hips. He leaned his face into Anders’ neck, whispering directly into his ear.
“It's so attached to you. Does he mind that I'm playing with his skin puppet?”
Anders didn't even twitch.
Unsatisfied, the assailant pushed himself back up and took his bowl and rag with him. He ascended the stairs, knocking on the door in a fast pattern. It was barely memorized before Anders realized he was alone again.
Anders ripped his arms up to his neck, itching at the spot the tainted breath sat. He shivered briefly, violently, from the fear escaping him. These feelings of pure rage were so familiar. It had been so long. He was losing himself.
The squeezing of his thigh was intentional. It was supposed to make him feel powerless so he would rely on Vengeance to protect him. The intimate whisper was for disgust. The gentle feeding for reliance. The movement of his body was like posing an animal corpse for taxidermy. A beauty on the shelf for him. That man was no different from the oppressive Templars that shaped his contorted world view.
Anders wanted to scream.
We knew the mages in Tevinter were like this. We killed many of them in Kirkwall. They are slavers. Hated by us and the warrior alike.
Anders coughed again, feeling more bile in his stomach boil up into his chest. The flavor of the dirty broth mixed with acid as he retched once more unto the stone floor below. The heat from his anger filled his face and hands. He craved more power. He could tell that was what the Tevinter probably wanted, but he still needed to have some sort of control over himself. The so-called Magister knew not what he asked for. The sheer scope of Anders’ magic would have him on his knees, trembling.
A low, angry grunt escaped his throat. Familiar lightning shapes split from his eyes and hands all over his skin, not hesitating to spread down his chest and back. His forearms were cracked and glowing as well. The blinding blue from the demon dazzled the room, and Anders could feel himself slipping into the heat. He wanted to burn it all.
“Calm yourself.”
Anders’ mouth moved but the voice was no longer his. His boiling anger clouded his vision in red, and then he was gone.
Justice grew fear for the second time in his possession. Anders was more and more unstable as the minutes passed. He gained control of himself for a while in his four-year self-exile, but after the warrior arrived back into his life, he grew more and more emotional. The spirit knew this, but still never questioned why he cared enough to keep the mage aligned. If he did question it, he feared he would begin to become something other than his namesake again.
The crackling skin of his arms began to take off Anders’ coat. The captors left him dressed, meaning they may not have searched the entire body. Sure enough, a small, concealed dagger from one of his waist belts sat neatly behind his hip. He removed it from its sheath and placed it to the side before removing his grey tunic. The thin, white chemise that was tucked into his pants looked cleaner than his outer clothes. This would suffice. Justice cut off a narrow strip of fabric at the hem of the chemise, twisting his waist to reach behind their body. He noticed the cracks of his overflowing possession spreading lower and lower down the mages back. Time was too fast in the realm beyond the fade, and Anders was becoming too delicate.
“They will have Justice, Anders. But not with your downfall.”
Anders was thrown into the front of his consciousness like hitting a wall. He grit his teeth and knelt to the ground close to his mess. The makeshift blindfold was tied around his temples and angry tears boiled into the cloth. Vengeance had surfaced twice from anger since Fenris brought out the instability he had forgotten about. However, he was not allowed to harness it? How hypocritical. His discarded clothes made their way back on as he sheathed his tiny dagger back into the belt.
As his rage fizzled out, the blooming pattern of cracks in his skin started to recede with it. He cooled his head against the wet stones of the wall. After anger, came hopelessness.
The magebane was still in his system. He could feel the vice on his magic while he tried to heal his stomach. Anders tried to recall the previous times he was forced to drink the piss potion, but it never felt this muddy and dense. If normal magebane was a collar, this felt like a cage.
While Vengeance stayed silent in his mind, Anders forced the knocking pattern into his mind to repeat, memorizing. It almost held the rhythm of a song. As the night progressed, he hatched a plan to escape with the least amount of casualties. One of those casualties had to be the red-hooded bastard. Next, Anders had to think of a way to shut him up.
The two mages that accompanied Valius before arrived first the next morning, talking to themselves about bets they took. Anders was barely paying attention, feigning sleep once more. He figured they wouldn't question the blindfold since their leader left after them the last time.
“Ugh. Valius really is a freak. Look.”
The first mage that spoke lifted Anders’ head, no doubt showing the other man his eyes.
“Maybe he blinked or something? I wouldn't want to see him twitch either. This is the man responsible for the Kirkwall incident. You can't really let your guard down around a Southern mage. They're like rabid Mabari.”
A disappointed sigh left the first one's mouth.
“It's a joke, Korvus.”
The first mage dropped Anders’ face, moving to his regular position to feed him. Anders waited with a heavy impatience in his mind. He just continued repeating the door knock in his head. Vengeance did not speak.
After the mundane deed was done, both of them splashed buckets of water around him, spitting droplets on his outstretched legs. They scrubbed away the brown stains of his retching with brush brooms. Blissfully, the scent faded away into a more reasonable mildew from the stones around them.
“There we go. You can put that away now.”
The second mage named Korvus rustled his robe as if pocketing something. “Are you sure? Aren't we supposed to…”
The first mage cleared his throat, muttering something under his breath. Anders wondered briefly if they caught his bluff and pretended not to know. Why else would they whisper?
The door opened again and the leader walked in. Anders could tell it was him just from the copper stink of his magic. It wasn't quite the same as the magic that remained in his ruined hovel, but it was blood magic nonetheless.
Anders could feel his heart thumping with anticipation. His head was still down, but he could sense every step coming towards him. Once the other two would leave them alone again, he was ready. He clenched his fingers around the handle of his small belt-knife behind him, silently focusing on keeping his anger tame. No wrong movements or sudden breathing. He was so close.
“Still no movement?”
Anders briefly wondered if he would mention the blindfold.
“No Magister, and he's been fed.”
A sharp spike of fear. This man was a Magister? Not just some slave-trading bastard? He had to know that Anders was awake. Magisters were always said to be the most powerful mages. This one could probably sense that Anders had regained his magic.
“Leave us.”
The two henchmen left without a word.
Silence. Anders could feel the Magister observing him from his standing position. All of that anger and calculation he did started to be overshadowed by the fear that began to grow. Again, Valius crouched and lifted Anders’ head. He could feel his hair fall off of his eyes and cheeks softly.
“I only want to ask some questions, you know. I'm not trying to kill you.”
Valius spoke aloud, gazing at Anders’ face for any reaction. It was at this moment that Vengeance decided to make his presence known with the crackling of anger. It was mild, and burned like a low fire.
“Did those nothings place this on you?” A finger slid under his blindfold and dragged along his temple, curling around it to tug. After realizing it was on tight, he moved to reach behind Anders, undoing the knot around his head.
This was the moment. Completely open.
Anders couldn't see him, but he could feel the warmth of the Magister’s body hovering just above him. His heart leapt in his chest as he tightened his grip on the blade. He could almost see where Valius’ jugular was just above his eyeline. If he just reached up and rotated the blade at just the right angle. Anders could see it in his mind.
At the last moment, fear stilled his fingers. The blindfold came off of his face and Valius leaned back. His chance was over.
“I have a great spell I've been testing. It can completely drain a person's blood from their skin in five seconds. I've tested it on a few slaves and a rogue Templar or two. It's quite effective.”
Valius pulled a vial from his belt and opened it with a hollow pop of the cork. Anders thought of several different scenarios where an empty vial would be needed but none of them were good.
“Got you.”
Anders didn't realize he swallowed thickly at the sound of the bottle. The dread pitted in his stomach but he still didn't move. Valius could still think of it as a bodily reflex.
The Tevinter Magister paused before he crooked his head to look directly in Anders’ lowered face. He was as still as stone. The vial clinked against the Magisters armored gloves as he moved it to Anders’ sleeping face. He had to know. If he didn't realize already, the telltale signs of fear that beaded sweat on his forehead and temples would surely give him away.
“You don't have to talk yet, but I want to ensure that you won't leave without giving me what I want.”
A prick to his lip was sudden, but he managed not to flinch. Maybe Vengeance was still helping him relax. The pointed gauntlet moved to hold Anders’ cheek. Disgust rolled through his stomach and he felt like he would vomit again. He could feel the cold rim of glass on his chin. Valius must be bleeding him to keep track should he run. Another thing he would have to destroy if he were to leave peacefully. He should have jumped before Valius had a chance.
“I know you're probably going to wake soon. You purged most of the potion. So, if you or your spirit is listening, I'd like to discuss why you did what you did to poor Vira.” Anders searched his memories for that name.
“Did you kill her and then rip her apart with your teeth? Or was the latter her cause of death? I just need to know the details for her death records. She was my stupid sister, you see. Not that I really spoke to her.” Valius paused, standing up with a breath.
“I'll be back in the evening. Unless, of course, you'd like to try using that little knife you have?”
Anders felt himself stiffen. Valius knew he was awake. What should he do? What would Hawke or Fenris do? He could feel his heart race once more. Hawke would probably kick his legs out and pierce the dagger through his throat. Fenris would probably have already killed him, considering he had been killing mages in Tevinter for a while now. Anders didn't even know what the Magister's armor looked like. He started to feel pathetic and weak, just as Valius wanted. He felt warm blood beading on his lips.
Wait until evening.
Anders resigned himself to that.
“Suit yourself. I'm not opposed to a little evening torture. It should perk you right up.” Valius was not human. His voice carried a cynical madness. Anders was lucky that he didn't cut his legs off before he woke.
I had considered that. This one never showed his face until your first encounter.
The Magister clicked his tongue and walked up the stairs, doing the same knock that Anders drilled into his brain. He must be confident in himself to think that anything he did wouldn't matter. That was where he was weak. He underestimated them.
Once he was gone, Anders let out the longest breath he could. He rubbed the back of his hand across his lip, now covered in crimson. He would have to face this head-on. This Magister didn't want to kill him for killing his sister, unless that was a lie. Maybe he wanted to use Anders like a puppet? Or sell him off, too. Whatever it was, he would have to wait until evening.
The door opened and the two guards including Korvus arrived again. The crack of sunlight was gone, but the torches the two carried were bright enough. Anders could finally see what they looked like.
One was a thick, strong looking man about his height with tied black hair and a sharpened goatee on his chin. The second guard, Korvus, was a touch thinner. He was darker in complexion with noticeable earrings and embellished braids. He had two scars on his lip moving down his chin, pinker in shade to the rest of him. They both wore armor that accentuated sharpness. Black tunics with red sashes underneath a darker metal plate armor.
The first held a small bowl and a rag of water. No doubt this was his usual meal, which he realized only now he'd been fed nothing but broth for however long he's been kidnapped.
Four sunrises.
Thank you.
Anders decided to be standing when they arrived, he had already slid the knife back into its sheath which was tucked neatly behind the small of his back. His hands were crossed over his chest in front, and his back leaned against the wall. The chains that had previously bound his wrists were piled by his feet. He was going to have to bargain.
Anders had never heard of any bargaining being successful with a Tevinter Magister, but he also didn't really know any Magisters at all. If bargaining didn't work, he trusted Vengeance would do something. The demon had been keeping him alive these few days so Anders had a silent hope that he would strike should the need allow. He would just have to keep his rage low.
The two henchmen stopped abruptly as they turned the corner from the wooden stairs. They looked him up and down as Anders just glared daggers as deep as he could into them.
Their weapons raised, a short sword each which were stowed at their hips. Korvus backed away slowly and turned up the stairs. The other nameless lackey pierced his vision right back at him.
“You don't look surprised. So you were listening. Or your spirit friend.”
Anders shrugged, keeping his stance. Crossing his arms was basically a surrender. “I heard your leader, Valius? He wanted to speak to me.”
The Tevinter kept his sword raised, backing away, himself. “He will be happy to see you still alive. Sorry about the dosage of the magebane, we had to account for potential extra power from your spirit magic.”
Anders spit to the side.
The door opened once more, Valius stepped down alone, unarmed, unafraid. Just when Anders started feeling good from striking at least a little fear from these guys.
“You may go.” He waved away the remaining, unnamed henchman and waited until they were alone and locked in before opening his arms. The shine on the Magisters robes made Anders twitch.
“Good morning Anders. I see you've made yourself comfortable.” Valius motioned to the chains by Anders’ feet. His face held a half smile.
Anders stared, wordless. He kept his arms crossed as a sign of no hostility. If a mage can't use his hands, he has a harder time casting, after all. His back stayed against the cold stones, his eyes flickered orange in the torchlight which was newly placed in two metal sconces by the stairway.
“So, first, I'll explain why I sedated you. Next, I'll ask my questions. Lastly, you join us in our mission, willingly or not, I don't care.” He looked at his nails as if bored. “We had a little bug planted in your friend at the bar. Nasty little thing. Many a healer came and went, unable to grasp the fade to heal her. We were looking for a fade-expert, you see. The Elder one has a need for one, or a few. How lucky am I that I found the Warden healer of Kirkwall!”
Valius stretched his arms out in triumphant pose. Anders stayed unamused.
“We found your little hole on the mountain. At first, we figured it was just a normal Apostate hovel, but there’s no mistaking the scent of the magic you hold. The signs of a healing mage were clear as well. You have quite a reputation, you know. That was a very Tevene thing to do, blowing up the chantry building and killing innocents because mages didn't have enough freedom. A classic hero story up north.”
Anders could feel his eye twitching. Valius was just trying to get him riled up, and it was working. So he was the one that trashed his ‘home’. At least he had one answer. Comparing him to a Tevinter magister though, that was quite the bold insult.
“I am Magister Valius. I understand you killed Vira very gruesomely. She was barely identifiable. We managed to match her phylactery with the blood of the corpse and she was sent off to us for burial. Now, she was undercover for a long time for me, converting some mages here and there, selling a few, but she was caught, I presume?”
The woman he murdered when Vengeance took over. Her name was not Vira when he knew her. Anders, unfortunately could see the resemblance.
Valius was of strong build, with pale skin. His hair was dark brown, cropped short on the sides of his head, but long hair remained on the top, tied back in a crisp line. His eyes were a familiar blue. He recognized the shape of his beard and the thick scar on his cheek. He wore gold earrings with a ruby or something similar hanging off of each one in a teardrop. Fancy.
His brief moment of observation was not an answer for Valius.
A heavy weight pressed on him in a sudden booming pressure that popped his ears and slammed him into the ground. A loud groan escaped as he felt his mouth fill with blood. His head felt hot and he could feel the pressure sit on his ribs, making it hard to breathe. He used force magic too? How lucky.
Valius stepped forward, pressing his heel onto the back of Anders’ shoulder. “I already know you are going to fight me every step of the way, so I'll make this quick. Did you or did you not become an abomination to kill her?”
The immediate answer was no, but most people would call him one just for hosting a spirit. He couldn't remember actually killing her, but he was normal when he came to, just covered in blood. He could feel the gravity getting lighter on him and he pressed his free arm up.
Then he remembered Vengeance had mentioned that he didn't want them to become an abomination, again. His mind searched for any broken memory from that night. He remembered the glow from his body reflecting off of the blood on the floor. He remembered washing his hands out in a river. The stains were so much darker than he thought. He could remember bits of memory where the cracks covered his body head to toe. He rested in a barn on discarded hay. His body hurt all over. But no, he didn't have a memory of completely becoming one.
I wish to speak with him.
That's probably a terrible idea. It seems like he's been waiting for you to surface.
He can't harm us.
A very bold and incorrect statement. He just did.
I remember what happened. And I will erase him after I tell him.
And why haven't you told me?
It was unnecessary.
Anders was torn. He didn't want to let Valius have what he wanted, but he also didn't have a solid plan of how to take care of him when this was over. The magister was definitely stronger than him, but something about Vengeance’s confidence calmed him.
You will have to explain the reason for the pet names later okay?
He could feel a gentle vibration in response.
His fingers began first. The cracks trailed down the digits in a blue-burning glow. Anders was still up front but it felt like Vengeance was standing next to him rather than in front of him. They slowly became one in a nostalgic way. It had been so long since they'd agreed on anything.
Valius took a step back, laughing under his breath.
Anders barely heard it. He stood slowly, staring into Valius with a bright, burning glow. His face cracked like stone and spread down his neck. It traveled further than usual, but it was more comfortable than hurtful, like he was cracking his joints. He placed both hands behind himself, holding his wrists together. This was another sign of non-violence he could use to his advantage.
“I am Justice.” his deep, baritone voice soaked through the space around them. Before Anders could intervene, the spirit slid the dagger out of their belt with the slightest motion of his middle finger. “What do you wish to ask of me?”
Valius let his smile falter, stepping forward and almost in their personal space. He observed the glowing cracks in the skin as if Justice were a specimen on a table. “Fascinating. Does this hurt the host’s body?” He leaned in, attempting to touch the visible cracks along his neck. Justice leaned away with grace.
“Yes.” was all he said.
Valius huffed and once again, pressed a force fist on Justice’s front, slamming their body into the cobbled wall behind them. At this point, Justice had slid the dagger into the sleeve of their coat. He did not flinch when their back collided with the stones, though Justice could feel their ribs being cracked just enough to incapacitate. Of course, it didn’t work on him.
“Hm. You’re not really any fun. Then again, I guess Justice itself isn’t fun. Well, right to the point then.” Valius reached forward and pressed his left hand around their throat, using some of his force magic to strengthen his hold.
Justice did not flinch.
“How long were you an abomination?” Valius pressed, impatiently. It seems the lack of response was making him irate by the second. He poked the very tips of his gauntlets into the sides of Anders’ crackling neck, barely piercing the skin. “Did you become a demon? How is it you separated your consciousness from your host?”
Justice blinked, moving his hands in front against the strength of the forcefield against him. He clasped his wrists together in another gesture of peace. “Your sibling was enacting injustice against her own. You have already explained her actions. She deserved the Justice I gave her.” He paused, looking upwards with shocking white pupils that were barely visible behind the blinding blue light. “Anders and I were always combined. Our souls are conjoined, but no longer the same. He simply embraced the anger he had within and I acted according to his will. Before, we were one and the same, so our rage would be combined. That time, it was not. I failed to corrupt into a demon, yet our form had changed into that of an abomination as the warrior often called us. It was incomplete. I protected this vessel while he shifted for five sunrises. He finally remembered who he was, but has no memory of the incident.”
Justice looked directly into Valius’ eyes, who was listening with his claws still embedded in their neck. “Your sister took our friends to be defiled and slain by the Templar Order. The punishment for that injustice was the same treatment our fellow mages were put through.” In a sudden motion, the spirit sliced the hidden dagger straight through the Magister’s waist. The wound was placed almost exactly where Fenris was injured.
Valius jerked back in response, but tore a bit of the skin of Anders’ neck as he did. The Magister didn’t seem to be in pain, just annoyed. He shifted his hands up in a pinching motion, lifting some of his spilling blood and dissolving it in the air with a spread of his fingers. His cut had healed instantly. His other hand motioned towards Anders, pushing him tightly against the wall with another loud thud. Justice’s expression did not change.
“I wasn’t finished talking, spirit. And now you’ve ruined my clothes.” Valius huffed and brushed his tunic where the slice opened him. “So, you say your vessel was the abomination and you remained a spirit. Did he possess the overwhelming power of an abomination?”
Justice kept his hands by his side. The bloody knife remained clutched in his hands. “Yes. But he lacked the will to use it. Unfortunately it required quite a lot of human emotion to continue in that state. I was nearly corrupted many times.” His voice was still calm, but Justice could tell his host was starting to get angry. Anders was growing more and more upset by the reveal of what had happened to him.
“Your sister was mauled by our claws and teeth same as the Templars tore apart our mages with their torture. She was alive until her throat was spit from our mouth.” Anders could feel their hands shaking with rage and panic. He really did corrupt himself. “I can feel your retribution coming as well, Magister.” Justice leaned his head against the wall once more, crossing his arms in front of himself with the dagger squeezed in his fist.
“So it required a spirit of strong will and a vessel of rage? Perhaps your scenario will be impossible after all. I don’t really have the time for my test subjects to befriend their spirits. I imagine a spirit as specific as Justice is harder to come by as well.” Valius pondered to himself. His hand lifted and his flat palm motioned down as if he were patting an invisible child on the head.
Justice felt his knees buckle under the sudden pressure he was under. He was down in seconds once more, feeling his hip and leg bruise under him. Justice relaxed their body to withstand some of the impact. Anders knew it would require a full day of healing for all of this, at least.
As much as he was trying, Anders could still feel himself boiling with rage. This Magister was so unphased by everything. He talked about the murder of innocents as if it were a journal entry in his daily life. He ignored any information of his sister in favor of his little experiment that Anders just knew was unethical and probably consisted of killing many slaves.
Justice, please. I can’t take his incessant posturing. He does not care about his sister at all. He was hoping he could experiment with us. Just shut him up.
Justice erupted a barrier spell and a healing spell in quick succession. The gravity pressing on them was not nearly as strong with the spirit’s energy surrounding them. Anders’ entire body covered in jagged cracks as if the gravity of the force magic cracked his shell. Justice stood firm, walking towards Valius in three strides.
“You will harm innocents, no longer.”
Valius raised his hands, preparing another spell, as the door above them swung open with the loudest crack. Shards of splintered wood rained down the steps. The torches swayed with the breeze from the door’s force. Loudly, the body of Korvus rolled down into view, backwards and angled completely wrong. His arm was missing, and his chest had a bloodied hole punched through it. The stare of his shocked face looked right into Justice’s glowing eyes.
Justice wasted no time with the distraction. He pierced his knife through Valius’ thin barrier spell and into his back, pulling him backwards towards the wall. With blinding speed, Justice locked Valius’ arms behind him and held the knife in place near his spine. A low groan of annoyed pain was all he managed to get out.
The second henchman ran down the stairs, screaming Valius’ name. The poor man’s face was white as a sheet. He nearly tripped over the body of poor Korvus before turning the corner. His whole body shook with hopelessness when he saw Valius in an arm lock. “Maker, please no.” He ran to the left wall, trying to figure out if he could hide behind the stair nook. His sword was raised in front of him as he shook like a leaf.
“You idiot. Are you trying to get me killed? What is up there?” Valius groaned again as Justice twisted the knife a little bit. “Get this damn thing off of me!”
A moment later, loud metal against the wood of the stairs rang through the room. First, Justice could see the tip of a long, black sword. Next, the familiar armored boots. As Justice was observing their new intruder, Valius stepped forward just enough to twist out of his grasp. He snatched his own blade up and sank it deep into Justice’s gut.
A single breath, Justice grabbed onto Valius’ stiffened arm, pulling the blade in deeper. Anders’ body was bleeding, but not quickly. He didn’t want to give the Magister a moment to pull it out and make it worse. Valius showed the slightest glimpse of fear with the surprise latch on his arm. Apparently he initially intended to turn it on his pursuer, but Justice wasn’t about to let go.
“Unhand me, you abomination!” Valius used his second arm to try some sort of blood magic. Justice grabbed that too, hooking them both by the blade hilt that was still buried in him.
“Warrior.” Justice lifted his head. “You’re here.”
Fenris stood behind the squirming Magister, his markings glowing a wispy halo of white and blue. His face was contorted into rage that Justice hadn’t seen in a long time. He gripped his sword in one hand now, letting the tip drag along the floor as he approached.
Anders could tell both him and Justice were happy to see Fenris. Anders let himself relax a little. Seeing Fenris safe and unharmed made his heart warm. Justice felt the same, triumphant that their companion had survived.
Valius turned his head, seeing the glow in his periphery. “You. You’re still alive?” His fear was now prominent in his features. His face grew pale and his arms began to twist harder. He was desperate.
Justice held firm, only looking at Fenris when the elf’s gauntlet lifted up in front of his chest. The wisps of light concentrated around his claws in a haze that Justice knew very well. He was ready.
“You’re Danarius’ sla-!”
His throat hitched in a thick groan as the wind left his lungs. He turned his head forward to look at Justice, a glazed, worried look plastered on his face. They both looked down, and in front of the Magister, Fenris’ claws were shredding through his armor as if it were liquid. The heart that beat in front of him slowed its pulse as he tried to scream.
Justice grabbed the hilt of the Magister’s blade, ensuring that his death grip did not slide the sword out as he fell. He watched the whole scene before him. Anders’ dreams were not far off from what this looked like up close.
Fenris pulled his arm back out, tossing the heart to the ground beside them. Valius slumped to the floor in a heap, trying to speak as he sputtered his last, wet rattle.
The battle cry from behind made Fenris almost perk an ear. A swift heel-spin with his sword and the poor second henchman was bisected smoothly. How did he keep that thing so sharp? The body fell to the ground before Justice could blink.
Before Justice sank back in, he held his free arm up and smiled warmly at the warrior as he took his time catching his breath. Fenris didn't take his hand, but locked eyes with a wary expression. Justice didn't let their expression falter. “Anders will not last. Make haste. His just end is not here.” Fenris responded with a lift of his chin and a raised eyebrow.
Anders began to front, still gripping the hilt of the buried blade against his gut. He could feel that the blade itself didn't pierce anything urgent, but besides the pain, something felt wrong. As the glowing subsided from his extremities, Anders noticed the cracks weren't disappearing as they usually would. Most of them closed again, but around his eyes, fingers, and forearms, the thin cuts weren't leaving. His skin began to prickle with blood. This again. He leaned against the wall behind him, trying to stay upright. He wasn't losing too much blood yet, but there was only a matter of time before he wouldn't be conscious. Anders was nearly out of mana, and this kind of healing would take a long time without lyrium, or-. Oh.
Fenris wasted no time. After the glow and crackling skin subsided, he looked Anders in the eyes as the mage was just trying to keep upright. “We must leave. Can you stand just a while longer?” With that, the warrior ducked under Anders’ arm and wrapped it around his neck. Thankfully, they were nearly the exact same height.
Weakly, Anders nodded in reply and groaned at the shift of his skin around the solid steel of the blade. Without a pause, Fenris began walking with haste, trying to keep Anders from jostling as much as possible.
Even in his stupor, Anders felt a bit of embarrassment given his almost week-long neglect. He would definitely boil ten pots for his bath when he was finally healed. The next thing he noticed after the self-consciousness subsided, was how strong Fenris was. He knew how lean the elf was from Kirkwall days, but he really must have traveled to Tevinter four times over. His power was awe-inspiring. Anders tried to focus on the tuft of white near his face as they moved.
They made their way up the stairs and out of the basement door, to which Anders was disappointed he didn't get to knock the code he spent his days memorizing. The halls were dim or completely dark. Everything felt like he was moving way too fast. Fenris navigated through a few halls before the moonlit exit was in front of them. A few dead Tevinter mages were crumpled around the door, the look of complete shock still etched in their features. Anders was almost sadistic in his thoughts of wanting to see how this fight went.
The moon was so bright outside, but covered in scattered clouds. Anders could see well enough that he was kept only two doors away from the bar he was drugged in. They must have put a strong barrier over their hideout, otherwise Anders found it hard to believe no one would hear him attempt to call for help.
The two made no sounds except for gentle panting. Fenris was light on his feet, even with the armor he was clad in and the weight of Anders on his side. The mage was barely able to keep step, hardly feeling the blade in his gut anymore. Before the clock struck the next bell, they were back in the cave they had stayed in before.