All seemed quiet at the chantry that evening. Moonlight spilled through the slatted windows of the chapel and across the marble floor. As we ascended the stairs to meet with Karl Theklas, however, I was overcome by a sense of dread. Something just didn't feel right. I spotted Karl Theklas as my companions and I reached the second floor and I quickened my pace as I approached.
"Anders, I know you too well," he said in the monotone lilt of a tranquil. "I knew you would never give up."
"What's wrong?" I asked, my brow furrowing. Even though Karl was rather straight-laced, this seemed so very uncharacteristic of him. "Why are you talking like that?"
"I was too rebellious. Like you," he droned on. That was when I noticed the sun-shaped branding in the center of his forehead—the Mark of the Tranquil. "The templars knew I had to be made an example of."
"Karl, no!" I growled. Zoe Hawke gave a faint gasp from behind me.
"How else will mages ever learn to master themselves?" Karl continued. "The templars must teach you to control yourself."
"Don't look now but I think this was a trap," she said quietly as she stepped closer to her brawny brother, who crossed his arms over his chest.
"This is the apostate," Karl said calmly.
"No!" I cried again as I dropped to my knees. I felt the spirit of Justice starting to take control of me then, using my outrage as a channel to come forth. Hold back, Anders. Control yourself, I willed. My fists clenched involuntarily with the effort of containing what was trying to break out of my soul. I saw the templars closing in on me and those I had tag along, but it seemed as though I watched them from underwater. Carver Hawke slowly reached up and over his shoulder, sliding a great sword out of its sheath as he positioned himself between Zoe and the templars.
Justice pulled me to my feet. I felt his strong clutch around my soul as we declared, "You will never take another mage as you took him."
I snapped my stave from my back and twirled it as I unleashed a barrage of spells towards the incoming templars. Vengeance spurred me on to throw bolt after bolt of arcane energy at them.
"Watch where you fling those spells, magey!" yelled Carver as he charged forth, greats word poised in the air.
In the confusion of the ensuing fight, I couldn't see Aveline anymore. She had probably pushed through the bulk of the templars' formation. And where was Varric, I wondered. I saw bolts rain down upon the templars but I did not see him.
Suddenly, flames tore across the floor. As I leapt back to avoid them, I looked around for the source. "Bastards," I spat as I considered that the fire was likely caused by a device the templars had installed before my arrival. Of course they would have expected a fight.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied a few templars fleeing, their skirts lit ablaze.
"What can I say?" I heard Zoe ask from behind me, and was certain it was her because of that smartass tone she always used. "I make it hot."
I whirled around. There she stood by the window, her flaxen hair and alabaster skin aglow in the moonlight. She took something that looked like a rod form a pocket inside her black surcoat.
"You… You're a mage?" I asked, blinking.
"And you have even more explaining to do later," she replied, tapping the end of her rod. It expanded from both ends, forming what appeared to be a simple stave. Without any sort of flourish, she slammed the end of it down against the ground. A Templar that had been trying to sneak up behind her was thrown backwards. "But for now, stay sharp."