Boredom. That was all Olorin Brian Amell had felt for the last month. Sheer and utter boredom. He had passed his Harrowing a month ago, being the second apprentice in nearly two centuries to take it before his seventeenth birthday (which had been a week ago). But now First Enchanter Irving, his mentor for the last ten years of his life, was having him research the Creation school of magic, in order to help the Enchanters teach the Apprentices.
If there was a thing Olorin hated, it was the school of Creationism. It was the bane of his existence. He was talented in both Entropy and Spirit. He was sheer genius (the words of Irving) in Primal. But he just did not understand Creationism. He could heal a small cut, and that about covered it. As talented a mage he was, Olorin had just never understood it, whether it be Irving, Wynne or Sweeny who tried to explain it.
And a talented mage he most certainly was. Ever since been brought to the Circle at the age of seven, Olorin had shown talent. By the age of twelve he was able to summon up a blizzard or inferno. He was able to animate corpses, dispel another mages magic or send them to sleep and create nightmares. But Irving would not let him rest until he was at least competent in the school of Creation.
Olorin didn't even want to teach apprentices. Not yet. He had repeatedly asked Irving permission to leave the tower and join the Knight Enchanters. So far it had been denied due to his youth. Knight Enchanters typically didn't enter training until their twenty fifth birthday.
Nobody had any idea why magic (well, most of it) came easy to him at first. He remembered little from his childhood. He knew he had been found outside the gates of Highever by a family originally from Kirkwall by the name of Amell. Apparently he was only a few days old and found in a basket with a note bearing his name, Olorin. The Amells took him in, giving him in the middle name Brian in honour of a brother his adoptive father had lost. Then, at the age of seven, burglars broke into the family home. His father was at work, and they tied up his mother and him, while they ransacked the home and prepared to take turns with his mother.
Then it was over. Out of the three burglars, one was frozen solid, another bound in rock and the third just dropped asleep. His mother ran out the house and returned half an hour later with both the city guard and the Templars. That was when he left home.
While it would be a lie to say the Templars who escorted him to the circle were friendly, they were at least polite and he was treated well. They travelled for five days to reach the tower, during which time he attracted a lot of stares from passers-by. Though he was scared when he was first put into the tower that soon went away. He started to feel at home, and a large part of that was due to his mentor, Senior Enchanter Irving, as he was then.
Everybody respected Irving. He was unanimously appointed First Enchanter when Olorin was ten, the first such appointment in living memory. His only serious competition, Wynne, was uninterested in the role. And despite his new role, he still retained his position as Olorin's mentor. He was always patient and willing to talk when Olorin was still settling into life in the tower. He was exactly how Olorin would model himself when he became a Senior Enchanter.
It was also at the tower where Olorin discovered his special abilites. One of them was he could sense magical power. While all mages could sense magic, both in people and in objects, Olorin was found to be particularly sensitive. A warm feeling washed over him whenever he walked into a warded room. Magical people and enchanted objects gave off a slight glow. The more powerful the person or enchantment, the more golden the glow. With time, he'd eventually learned to tune out this glow, so he could effectively turn his 'mage sight', as Irving and himself had christened it, on and off at will. That had significantly reduced the amount of headaches he suffered.
Though Irving and the Templars knew of his mage sight, he had kept one thing secret from them. The mage sight also showed him if someone had delved into blood magic. Those who had, gave off a slight red glow along with the golden. He'd not told anyone this, knowing if he did the Templars would constantly harass him for identities of blood mages. Besides, it only worked for those who had either used a lot of blood magic, or the really powerful stuff. It was useless at detecting those who may have dabbled. That's not to say he did nothing. If he found someone who was giving off the red glow, he'd attempt to alert the Templars without revealing his identity or ability. He was currently trying to find out a way to inform them about Uldred. He despised blood magic.
His other abilities was slightly more common but also extremely rare. He was what was called a dreamer. When people were asleep, they entered the Fade, the realm of spirits and demons. Mages could tap into the Fade at will, thus giving them their power. However while asleep mages would be just as unaware of being in the Fade as others would be. Not so for Olorin.
From conversations with Irving it soon became apparent he was far more aware while asleep then others. Indeed he was known to have full conversations with spirits. This was almost unheard of in the modern era and took Irving, Wynne and Sweeny an awful lot of research before they finally stumbled across references of the ability from ancient Tevinter Magisters and Elves of Arlathan.
Some of the Templars had wanted to make him Tranquil at this revelation as Dreamers were particularly vulnerable to possession. Irving had defended him to the hilt, using the Chantry's own laws. A mage cannot be made Tranquil without due cause. Eventually Greagoir managed to calm down the Templars. It helped after Olorin had a very public confrontation with a Desire Demon in the middle of dinner one night. The confrontation ended with Olorin expelling the demon from his mind, setting the Templars worries at ease.
However his mage sight was the reason he was currently actually doing the work Irving had set rather than trying to skive. He was trying to avoid Jowan, his friend. Jowan was a bit of a hanger on, always trying to be in with the crowd. And Maker could the bloke worry! But despite these flaws, he was a good friend and was willing to help somebody out. However, his glow had begun to take on a slightly red twinge recently. Not enough for Olorin to hit panic mode yet, many mages went through a small stage of doing it and would glow red for a very short time, but enough to set alarm bells ringing. He only hoped it was a temporary thing. He would hate to have to turn his friend in, but his hatred of blood magic overruled any loyalties he had.
Growing frustrated with his work (why would he want to create a spell wisp anyway?) he put his book back and browsed the shelves for something of a more interesting variety. A book caught his eye at the very back of the shelves. It looked old, very old. It was also covered in a thick layer of dust which showed it had not been read in many a year. Looking at the title he saw it was a book on the Grey Wardens, more specifically the role of magic in the order. His interest mildly peaked; he took it back to his desk.
An hour and a half later, he had smuggled the book from the library and into his room. An empty plate and glass from lunch stood next to him. His interest had gone from mildly peaked, to fascinated. The date showed the book at been written by a Grey Warden mage between the Second and Third Blights, in 2:47 Glory. It detailed how mages in the Grey Wardens operated, how they were free from Chantry supervision and how lethal they could be in battle. It all sounded so much better than being locked in the tower. While he was not as extreme as the Libertarian fraternity (he had ambitions of joining the Aequitarians when became an Enchanter) he did believe Harrowed mages who had not caused trouble should be allowed more freedom to leave the tower, perhaps for months at a time. Many Aequitarians felt the same and their alliance with the Loyalists was becoming more strained by the year.
A person clearing his throat from the edge of his part of the dormitory he shared with four other mages disturbed him. Looking up, he saw the armour of one the newest Templars, Templar Cullen. He seemed an honest, if timid sort. He certainly wasn't the type to partake in some of the 'sport' other Templars liked to.
"Good afternoon Templar Cullen. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Good afternoon Mage Amell. The First Enchanter wishes your presence in his office."
After voicing his acknowledgement and turning away to mark his page Olorin started to make his way to Irving's office. Once he was near he noticed raises voices coming from the office, those of Irving and Greagoir.
Irving and Greagoir had been arguing a lot recently, mostly about how many mages were being sent to Ostagar to the new Blight. Irving wanted to send more, while Greagoir believed too many had already been sent and the Chantry didn't have enough Templars to control them. While Olorin had never had too bad of a relationship with Greagoir, he had to scoff at that. There were more than enough Templars there.
Olorin himself had had a few lively debates (he refused to call them arguments) with Irving. He didn't see why he, the Mage with the most talent in combat magic, had to stay at the Tower instead of go off to fight. Irving countered that he was too inexperienced, having been harrowed little longer than a month. It had been a cause of friction between mentor and student.
He knocked on Irvings door and the voices immediately stopped. After gaining Irvings permission he walked into the room and noticed a stranger. He had black hair and a beard, both of which was starting to grey a bit, tanned skin and carried a sword and dagger on his back. Olorin started to get worried until he noticed his silver armour had no eye emblazoned on the front. Not a Seeker of Truth then. That would not have been good news.
With the stranger there Olorin greeted each occupant of the room more formally than he otherwise would have done until Irving interrupted him ''My dear child,'' (Irving had a habit of calling anyone young enough to not complain about the stairs in the tower 'child') ''there is no need to be so formal.''
"In that case Irving, can you please learn to charge the secrecy runes in your office before arguing with the Knight Commander? I think may you have disturbed the Empress of Orlais herself.''
Irving looked sheepish and Gregoir mildly annoyed and amused at the same time, while the stranger chucked. Noticing Olorin looking at the stranger Irving introduced him as Duncan, Commander of the Grey in Ferelden.
"A Grey Warden!?" exclaimed Olorin, "I've just been reading about the role of magic in your order."
"Wasn't you supposed to be reading about how to create and use spell wisps to their fullest potential, Olorin?"
Olorin blushed a little at this, but shot back at his mentor. "But spell wisps are so boring and this book was much more interesting."
Duncan chuckled and muttered about the impetuous of youth. Irving then told Olorin that Duncan needed to speak to him and escorting him to the guest room would be a good opportunity to do so. This was how Olorin found himself walking through the circle tower with Duncan, Commander of the Grey.
"So Olorin, Irving tells me you are a talented mage for your age?"
"Irving does me a great credit Duncan. I would not be half the mage I am today without his skilled ability mentoring me."
"A humble sentiment. Irving may have crafted you into what you are, but the raw materials still need to be there for him to work with. What kind of magic do you specialise in?"
"A true sentiment Duncan. I am most talented in magic to be used in combat."
Chat passed back and forth between the two of them until they reached the guest room on the main floor of the tower.
"It has been a pleasure Duncan. But may I be so bold as to ask what this is about?"
"Come and find me at half past ten tomorrow morning and you will find out." Came the reply leaving Olorin thoroughly confused.
o-0-o
As Olorin was leaving Duncan's guest room he literally ran into Jowan, the very person he had been trying to avoid.
"Please, I need to speak to you." requested Jowan, before leading off to the Chantry.
Once in the Chantry Olorin finally met the girl Jowan had been mentioning for ages, Lilly. If he was honest with himself, Olorin was starting to believe he had been exaggerating the extent of his relationship with a girl, but alas here she was in front of him, and apparently very friendly with Jowan. Friendly enough to have concocted a plan to abandon her vows and run away with a mage who was suspected of blood magic and would become an apostate.
Olorin had to mentally scoff at this. The plan was not too bad, though he doubted it would work. There surely would be other security arraignments in place that would alert the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander. He knew it would be easy enough to get a rod of fire especially since he was forming his own plan in his mind. The fact that Jowan was running confirmed Olorin's worse fears, he was a blood mage. Jowan would not run if he was innocent, such as surely as Irving would not authorise the Rite of Tranquillity unless there was conclusive proof that he was a blood mage.
After he had been told their plan Olorin agreed to help and left to supposedly get a rod of fire. However instead of heading to the stockroom he headed straight to Irvings office, where he confessed the entire plan to him. However he also told Irving his plan of making sure Lilly and Jowan were caught in the act. After all, if Jowan had to go down, the Chantry initiate helping him should go down as well.
It was only a matter of minutes until Olorin returned with a rod of fire gained with Irvings signature. The three of them headed down to the basement where they would enter the phylactery chamber. Getting past the initial door was easy, as was expected. The rod of fire however failed to work, just as Olorin expected would happen. Just as Irving said there was another door to another part of the basement which Jowan helpfully pointed out for them.
It was once they were through this door that things started to go wrong. Two suits of armour animated to attack, and was joined by some sort of spirit that came alive. He knew the armour was enchanted to attack with the same sword techniques as Templars. The spirit was the same enchantment as the armour, but not bound to anything. It was also capable of launching weak spells. Olorins heart beat faster. Combat. This is what he yearned for and this what made him take command.
"Jowan, Lilly focus on the spirit and taking it down. I'll handle these two."
His voice carried such an air of command that neither of them thought to not do as he said. As soon as they were out his way Olorin reached up and drew his staff. It was just a standard staff all mages were given, but to Olorin it was much more. It represented the power he had. And it was time to use this power.
As soon as he had drawn his staff he shot a burst of flame at the two advancing pieces of armour. Though they were damaged, they were not finished yet. Swinging the staff around his body so it was spread across his back he instead focused his power down his left hand, forcing a fist made of rock into the leading piece of armour causing it to shatter.
Noticing how close the second piece was he brought his staff back around to his front and held it horizontal across his body, lifting it to block the incoming blow from the sword. Before the enchanted armour could pull the sword back, Olorin had spun to his right, the momentum of his staff forcing the sword away from himself. As he finished the manoeuvre his staff was level with the armours head and he sent a bolt of lightning down it straight into the armour, finishing it off.
They continued much in this vain along the way, with Olorin taking on at least twice the amount of enemies that the other two did combined. Eventually they reached the circle repository, a large room full of assorted things. Books, staffs and other assorted magical objects littered the shelves in the room. However there was only one objet of interest to the trio. Olorin knew what it was having been told by Irving and it did not take long for Jowan to work it out either.
The object was shaped like a mabari hound which had a hole in its head. It was spell amplifier. Any spell cast on it would go through the object and emerge from its mouth stronger than before. The hole on the head could be used to insert enchanted objects, such as a rod of fire, to gain the same effect. The wall it pointed against led to the phylactery chamber. In short order the wall gained a giant hole in it and the trio burst into the room.
There were more guards in here, including one which was tougher than the others. Again, Jowan and Lily focused on the weaker one while Olorin was locked in combat with the stronger one. The enchantments on this were stronger than the other ones, as evidenced by the stronger glow of it in Olorins mage sight, and the fact that his stone fist just bounce off it.
Cursing, Olorin sent a cone of ice in its direction. It didn't stop it, but managed to slow it down, giving Olorin time to think. It was too strong to defeat with standard attacks meaning he needed a new idea. He only had one, and he wasn't sure if it would work. But it was the only thing he could think ok.
"Jowan, Lilly, get out the way!" he yelled. He couldn't have them in the danger area of his spell.
First he focused on his magic. He let it well up inside him until it was overflowing. When Jowan and Lily defeated their enemy and turned towards Olorin he was glowing with magical energy. When he had summoned up as much energy as he could he pointed his staff at his enemy and poured all his energy into a cone of flame. The flame was that hot it was white. And while it would normally die down after a few seconds this kept going. All in all it held out for thirty seconds before Olorin finally dropped to his knees with exhaustion.
He barely dared to raise his head. He put all had in that spell, knowing that if it failed, he would be killed. When he did look up he saw no figure of amour. All he saw was a pile of molten metal. Despite his exhaustion Olorin laughed. Not a laugh of humour, but one of relief. Today would not be the day he died.
"That was amazing." Jowan exclaimed with his mouth open. Lily looked equally as astonished and slightly fearful.
"Jowan, do you have a lyrium potion?"
"No I'm afraid I don't. Are you alright? That was a lot of magic."
"I'll manage. Just get your phylactery and go."
"It's a shame yours isn't here as well."
"I wouldn't take it. I may not believe in keeping us all cooped up once we've passed the harrowing but I don't feel as strongly as you or some of the others."
Jowan nodded at the truth of the statement as he went and picked up his phylactery and smashed it.
Walking out the chamber was difficult for Olorin. He'd used up so much magic defeating that enchanted guardian he just wanted to go to bed and sleep. A mages magic was a muscle. It grew stronger with use. However the power of the spells wouldn't increase, simply the amount of spells they could cast. Olorin had not exercised this muscle enough.
He was not surprised when they got back in the tower to be met by the Knight-Commander, First Enchanter and two other Templars. Nor was he surprised by Greagoir's fury at Irving sanctioning his involvement. He was slightly surprised by Greagoir's commandment that Lily be taken to Aeonar. However he was really surprised at Jowan's reaction to that statement.
As Jowan plunged his hand into his robe Olorin knew immediately what was going to happen. The Templars saw it but could not reach Jowan in time to stop him. Irving saw it but old age had slowed his reactions. So it fell to Olorin to erect a shield covering them all from Jowan's blood magic spell.
Normally this would not have been a problem. Olorin had some of the strongest shields in the tower. However he was weak, his mana nearly empty. So his shield was weak. Despite pouring as much into the shield as he could it was not enough. They all went flying when Olorin's shield broke.
His eyes were blurring, he could just make out Jowan escaping. He could also just make out Irving kneeling above him and Greagoir's shouts to chase the blood mage and get a healer. Knowing they wouldn't immediately realise what was wrong, he poured his last remaining strength into one word before he passed out.
"Lyrium."