Chapter I.

1

'Are you sure, Sis?' Bethany asked the hundredth time. 'This Grey Warden business… Maybe we should find some other way to make money? The Deep Roads doesn't exactly sound like the happiest place in the world. Also, can you slow down, I can barely keep up with you!'

'There aren't many happy places in the world, Beth', Tallion replied dryly, not slowing her pace down even a little. 'Anyway, I'm not taking you with me, so you can stop fussing.'

Bethany pouted her lips.

'I'm sure you'll prefer Gallows to the Deep Roads', Tallion continued. 'That must be a muchhappier place'.

'This is totally unfair, Tal!' Bethany cried out behind her. She was almost breaking into a run to keep up with Tallion's wide determined stride.

'Fairness is as non-existent in this world as happy places', having said that, Tallion stopped, looking around.

'You're such an ass', her sister said, coming up to her and crossing her arms.

'And you're getting on my nerves', Tallion replied and then pointed at the shaggy building in front of them. A pale yellow lantern was hanging above the door.

'This is the place?' Bethany asked, surprised. 'The secret entrance to our estate cellar is somewhere here, isn't it? Strange how we've just been here the other day.'

'The estate isn't 'ours'. You and Mother should stop dwelling on useless history. Let's go. And be ready.'

Bethany let out an incoherent sound of exasperation and then followed her sister through the door. Inside it was surprisingly light and it smelled quite nice; completely the opposite of what she expected. Still, there were people all around them; their poor clothes, dirty hands and faces and the pure look of desperation about them made her uncomfortable.

'Are you sure we shouldn't have brought that dwarf, Varric, with us? It was his idea after all', she whispered, fiddling with her scarf.

'No', Tallion dismissed. 'I don't trust him. I want to see for myself what this Grey Warden's about.'

Unceremoniously, Tallion made her way to the far side of the clinic. There, on a shabby couch lay a boy. Towering over him stood a tall scrawny man in a curious coat that looked like it was made from many separate pieces of fabric and leather and repaired time and again. He had his blonde hair tied back in a messy knot; his light brown eyes were concentrated on the unconscious boy.

'That's probably him', Bethany whispered to Tallion. 'I can sense him doing magic'.

'Bethany, he has his hands spread over that boy and everyone's looking at him like they're expecting a miracle. Of course it's him'.

'I'd hit you but sometimes I really doubt you're going to even feel it.'

The boy suddenly gasped and sprang forward. A man and a woman rushed towards him and caught him in their arms, exclaiming in joyous disbelief. The mage who cured the boy let out a tired sigh and bent over, breathing heavily. Someone ran up to him, offering support, but he dismissed them.

'Who are you? Why do you threaten this place?' he called in an unexpectedly deep, harsh voice, taking several steps toward them. There was something else there, Bethany felt, in his voice, in the very air around him, but couldn't quite catch it.

'Are you the Grey Warden Anders?' asked Tallion, meeting his gaze and also taking a step forward.

Never backs down, my Sis, thought Bethany with equal measures of pride and resentment.

The mage squinted and then picked up a staff that was resting against the wall before. It was a pretty staff: the top was crowned by a metallic wolf's head; as soon as the man grabbed it, the wolf's eyes lit up yellow. Bethany also thought that there was a flicker of some alien light in the mage's own eyes, as well, but she wasn't sure.

'Have the Wardens sent you to get me? You're wasting your time; I am not going back!' he proclaimed, pointing the staff in their direction. His voice sounded much lighter now, but still strong.

The people in the clinic have all started to move towards the door. Some have already ran out. People of Darktown can probably tell when trouble's coming; they know when to run.

Tallion placed her hand on the hilt of her sword.

'I am not with the Wardens. I was told you know about the Deep Roads'.

Anders straightened up and rested his staff on the ground. Tallion looked at him expectantly.

'True', he acknowledged with a nod.

'I need that information'.

'No. Now leave.'

'Well, he's not one for negotiations', Bethany noted nervously. 'Shall we go, Sis?..'

Tallion didn't even look at her. Instead, she stepped forward, with her face now only inches away from the Warden's. Anders was tall, but so was Tallion. She barely had to tilt her head up to look him in the eye.

'I said, I need it. So you better talk, mage, or I will make you.'

Even though Tallion's threats were never directed at her (well, almost never) Bethany still shuddered whenever she heard her sister use that tone of hers. Tallion never left home without a weapon and she had that look in her dark greenish eyes; people knew they shouldn't mess with her.

Anders didn't move a muscle. He just scoffed.

'Don't threaten me, little girl.'

Tallion raised her brow, taken aback by his reaction. She was not used to failing at scaring people. Bethany didn't know whether to be horrified or amused. He called her sister a little girl. No one ever did that… well, except Father, and he was long dead.

'Don't test my patience, mage', Tallion replied, speaking through clenched teeth.

'You think I'm going to let you fight me?' Anders asked, sounding mildly irritated. 'I'll just throw you out of here and let you go reflect on your behaviour.'

Bethany squinted, fully prepared for Tallion to hit him.

'What do you want then?' she intervened hastily. 'Money? We can buy the information from you!'

Anders transferred his gaze on her, as if noticing her for the first time.

'Do you think if I wanted money, I'd've set up a free clinic in Darktown?'

'Uh, we'll just be leaving then', she said, putting on her nicest smile and tugging at Tallion's sleeve.

'Wait', Anders said suddenly. 'There is something I want. A favour.'

'What kind of favour?' Tallion asked, squinting her eyes in suspicion.

'I need to get someone out of Kirkwall safely. And I need backup. You look… the type.'

'My sister's really good at hitting people', Bethany confirmed.

'You're not telling everything', Tallion observed. 'Is this person a criminal?'

'What? No! He is a victim!' Anders said passionately. 'They are going to make him Tranquil! I would not see him suffer a fate worse than death simply for being who he is! I would not see anyone suffer for that! You must understand, your sister's a mage!' he turned to Bethany.

'I don't like this…' she whispered to Tallion. 'Sister, if this involves templars…'

'Are you asking me to break your friend out of the Circle? To make him an apostate?' Tallion questioned Anders.

'You would condemn me for protecting my friend like you protect your sister? A brute and a hypocrite!'

'Forget it, I don't have time for this', Tallion spat out and waved her hand. 'Come on, Bethany. We'll get to the Deep Roads ourselves.'

She stormed off, not looking whether Bethany followed or not.

The girl looked at Anders and bit her lip.

"My sister can be a bit hot-headed, sorry. She's not always like this… wait, yeah, she is". She sighed. "Of course, I sympathize. But you have to admit, this is something really dangerous you're planning".

"I'm not actually planning to break Karl ─ that's my friend's name ─ out of the Gallows", he told her dryly. "I am meeting him tonight in the Chantry". Anders looked away, lost in thought for a second. "I have a map of the Deep Roads in this area", he said finally. "If you want it, you'll be at the Chantry at nightfall. Now I think you should leave".

'Oh, I agree. This has been awkward and unpleasant enough!'

With that, she hurried after Tallion.

2

At day Kirkwall was hot, stuffy and crowded ─ uncomfortable, full of prying eyes and straying hands. They always had to be careful not to stand out, not to linger. At night, Kirkwall was still dangerous, yes, maybe even more so, but it was also empty, free, fresh. The only sounds seemed to be their footsteps and the rustle of wind playing with the canopies above abandoned market stalls.

"I thought this expedition was what you wanted", Bethany inquired, breaking their tense silence.

"It is", was Tallion's reply. She didn't turn her head.

"Then why won't you even consider?" Bethany continued.

Tallion stopped and turned around. Bethany bit her lip but met her gaze.

"Do you really have to ask that? Do you even remember why I want to be on this expedition? To make money. To become someone in this town".

"So that the templars can't touch me", Bethany finished bleakly.

"And you want to jeopardize it by helping break people out of the Gallows? As if we're not already struggling to keep our heads below the water. Besides, you told me yourself back there you were afraid to get involved. What brought this on?"

Her younger sister frowned, reconstructing the argument she had in her head just a moment ago. Carver was never afraid to tell exactly what he thought to Tallion's face. Maybe that's why he was always closer to her than Bethany. A familiar sting of jealousy came against her will, and she winced. How could she still feel something so petty when Carver was gone forever?

"Bethany", Tallion called to her, still waiting for an answer.

"Of course, I understand why you refused, Sister, but I want to know… Would you have helped him if he asked for something else?"

"What's the point of your question? He asked what he asked, and I'm not helping with that", Tallion said, not masking the annoyance in her tone. "Let's go".

Bethany trailed after her, as always.

No, you wouldn't, she thought, because you don't want anything to do with apostates or mages in general. I am a heavy burden enough.

She moved her feet, trying to keep up, whilst her dark eyes pierced her sister's armoured back and her crudely chopped copper hair.

Would you have gone to break me out of the Gallows, Sister?

3

"Your plan failed, dwarf", Tallion announced, walking into Varric's room in The Hanged Man. Bethany liked it. It felt cosy with the fireplace and the colourful rugs on the walls and dozens of thick books with intriguing covers on Varric's desk.

The dwarf himself was sitting at the spacious table in the centre of the room, enjoying a glass of wine.

"My plans are always perfect, human", he replied, not startled in the slightest by this sudden intrusion. "If you failed at the execution part, it's not my fault".

Tallion shoved a stool from under the table with her leg and sat down.

"I'm in no mood for jokes".

"It seems to be your life motto".

Bethany giggled, then shut herself up when Tallion gave her a stern glare. Varric waved his big gloved hand at her.

"Hello there, Sunshine!"

Sunshine. She liked it. She let the smile return to her face.

"Alright, spit it out", Varric sighed and rearranged himself in his chair. "Did things not go well with the Grey Warden?"

"Your informers neglected to mention he was an apostate".

"He's not technically an apostate. Chantry cannot touch Grey Wardens".

"I don't think he can claim that protection since he deserted the Order", Tallion barked.

"So you won't cooperate with him just because he's a mage?" Varric asked, a bit baffled and shooting a glance at Bethany.

Yes, she thought.

"No", Tallion said. "His condition is to help him get his friend – a mage of the Circle – out of Kirkwall".

Bethany chipped in, explaining what exactly Anders asked.

"A map of the Deep Roads. Bartrand will eat his beard", Varric rubbed his own clean-shaved chin. "Maybe…"

"No", Tallion cut him short. "It's too risky".

"So you do not charge headfirst into trouble. I might have rushed the characterisation", Varric muttered.

"My sister is an apostate", Tallion said, frowning. Bethany looked away. As if she needed a reminder. "I have no intention of making her a wanted apostate".

Varric winked at Bethany. Somehow it made her feel better.

"Why don't we leave her out of it, then?"

4

Tallion had no idea how in the end she let Varric talk her into this (she told herself she'd just wanted him to shut up), but there she was, at the Chantry's steps, with the smug dwarf himself at her side and the tall, lanky figure of the apostate looming at the top.

"You're here", he gasped. "I really didn't think you'd come".

"Neither did I", Tallion grumbled.

"Where's your sister?"

"You do not talk about my sister", she said flatly, looking straight into his hazel eyes.

"Varric Tethras at your service", the dwarf introduced himself with a little bow, before Anders could reply to Tallion.

The Warden turned his gaze to Varric and shook his hand, smiling genuinely.

"I'm Anders. Suddenly, this doesn't feel like such a hopeless endeavour anymore", he beamed.

"That makes one of us", Varric chuckled.

"With luck, we all walk out of here free men", Anders continued encouragingly. "Well, and women", he added, glancing at Tallion.

"I'll settle on 'not dead'", the dwarf replied.

"Enough chatter", Tallion snapped in an annoyed whisper. "How do we get in?" Her eyes took in the grandiose doors of the Chantry. "These do not look breakable".

"There is another door", Anders explained, moving along the wall. "Much smaller… and yes, more breakable. Here".

Tallion stood in front of the door, examining it, then took a few steps back, preparing to kick it open.

"Wait, maybe I should…" Anders's fingers lit up with fire.

"Oh, get out of my way, you two".

Varric shoved them aside and got a curious looking tool out of his pocket. A few moments' work, and something clicked in the lock, barely audible.

"Piece of cake", the dwarf said, looking pleased with himself.

They went in. Tallion immediately unsheathed her sword, ready for anything.

She has been to the Kirkwall's Chantry a few times already, but never at night. She knew it was big, especially compared to what they had in Lothering, but it was always full of people, hushed whispers, meaningless prayers, nose-twitching smells. Now it was dark, empty and truly grand.

Lots of places for enemies to hide, Tallion was certain.

They walked through the moonlit hall, throwing worried glances around, prepared for an attack any minute. But everything was quiet.

"When we see Karl, just let me talk to him", Anders said, as if Tallion was just going to charge in bashing everyone with her shield indiscriminately. She scowled at him, but he took no notice and carried on up the stairs.

"Better take a risk of fighting templars, than getting lost in the Deep Roads, don't you think?" the dwarf had asked. "Besides, it's not like we can't handle a bunch of pious humans in skirts".

Tallion was going to regret this, she just knew it.

"Karl!" Anders exclaimed, spotting a slender male figure in Circle robes in the corner beside a fireplace. "I'm so glad you're here, I was afraid…"

Then his friend turned around, and Anders was cut short, gaping at the fresh brand of burning sun on Karl's forehead in disbelief.

"No!" The Warden cried out, his shoulders sinking, his knees buckling. Varric rushed to his side to support him, but Anders was already on the floor, defeated.

Tallion heard noise behind her, and span around, only to find templars coming out of their hiding places. She hissed and slid the shield from her shoulder into her arm, squatting in a battle stance. Her eyes searched around the room, taking in their attackers, whilst she slowly repositioned herself to cover Varric and Anders.

Seven. Seven blighted templars, Void take them!

"This is no time to mope, mage!" she snapped out at Anders and threw a quick look at him. "Get u─"

Anders was shaking visibly, his head in his hands, his whole body enveloped in a dark mist. The next moment his skin seemed to rip open with bright blue cracks, blinding light emanating from the mage. He sprung up to his feet. His eyes shone a fierce electric blue, and his voice, suddenly deep and undeniably different, resonated throughout the Chantry's walls.

"You will never took another mage as you took him!"

Well, shit, was all Tallion could think, as she charged forward, ducking under the first templar's sword and slamming him with her shield. He staggered backwards, and Tallion kicked him forcefully, sending him crashing into one of the pillars. He slid down to the floor, unconscious.

Three templars were closing in from different sides now, and behind them their other three comrades were training their bows on her, waiting for an opening. There was a sharp whistle of air to her left, and then one of the templar archers fell on his ass, an elegant bolt protruding from his helm's eye slit. Two archers, then. Still, her best chance was to hide behind her attackers as long as she could.

She met one blow with her shield, and parried the other with her blade. The air got suddenly hot behind her, and a ridiculously huge ball of liquid fire dropped on the remaining archers. Tallion cried out and pushed forward, knocking one of her attackers off his feet.

The templars' chest plates were nigh impenetrable, and she couldn't risk her sword getting stuck in the narrow slit of the helms. Tallion found the best tactic was to attack their limbs or their, well, groin – when you're outnumbered, and there's nowhere to run, you either fight dirty, or you die.

She stuck her sword deep between the man's thighs, ripping through the fabric of the 'skirt' Varric made fun of and thrusting into the pliant flesh. The templar let out a screeching cry, but Tallion already moved onto the next. Anders enveloped him in a freezing spell, and the warrior bashed him to little pieces. Varric sent a bolt between the last templar's eyes, and it was over.

"Anders, what did you do?" she heard Karl's voice, rich with emotion. "It's like you brought a piece of Fade into this world, I… I can feel again!"

Tallion listened to their exchange, registering that his ability to feel was fading away quickly and he begged to die at Anders's hand, whilst he was still himself. She didn't look whilst she removed each templar's helm, slitting the throats methodically, making sure everyone was dead because they had seen their faces. She heard the blade go into the body and the soft gasp and the former Warden's tender "goodbye".

She cleaned her bloodied sword on a templar's cloak, and they left.

5

"Talk", she spat when they were back in his clinic.

Anders paced a few steps back and forth, then told the story of how he invited a spirit into his body, and Tallion would have laughed at his stupidity if only it didn't make her so angry.

When the mage finished talking, he met her gaze, begging to accept and challenging to confront at the same time.

"I need that map", was all Tallion said, her voice nonchalant, her eyes blank. Varric shuffled uncomfortably at Tallion's side, muttering under his breath.

"Of course", Anders said, the tiniest hint of tremble in his voice. He disappeared into the further rooms of the clinic, and Tallion followed, drawing half of her blade out. He didn't try to run. He returned, scoffing at her distrust, and made a show out of giving the map to the dwarf, not her.

She could sense his disapproval almost physically, feel him daring her to judge, to accuse.

"Got what you wanted?" she asked Varric. "Then let's go".

"Sorry about your friend", the dwarf suggested, unsure if Anders would lash out at being pitied.

"Thank you", the mage said in earnest.

Tallion rolled her eyes, irritated, and drove her blade back into its sheath with an audible force.

"Listen. I might regret this, but you're welcome to come for a drink at The Hanged Man", Varric offered, not paying much attention to her.

"I don't really drink but… thanks. I think I might come by", Anders replied, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Ask for the handsome dwarf!"

"Would you still be handsome if I bashed your face inward?" Tallion mused coldly.

Varric chuckled, but allowing for a possibility that she was serious, he followed her out of Anders's clinic.