A/N: Hello, readers! I started a new piece! I just have a lot of plot bunnies hopping around in my head and I have plenty of time to write now that school is out. Hallelujah! This was originally going to be Anders telling about his first escape from the Tower, but I decided that I wanted it to be about Greagoir's journey through the Templar ranks. I don't know who I got the current plot from the original either. It will include his struggles, his shortcomings, his colleagues, and perhaps even a love affair between him and a lady-mage or lady-Templar recruit? Or a 'sir' mage or Templar… I don't really know if I'm ready to write yaoi *spelling?* yet.
Anyway, I wanted to write this about 14 years before the Blight began. The main ages in the first part that you may want to know ahead of time are Irving's (68), Greagoir's (40), and Anders' (7). I gave these away to kinda help you gage what the character looks and acts like. I based these ages off of estimated ages from the Awakening timeline. All the way up to Awakening, I'd say Irving is 83, Greagoir is 55, and Anders is 22. I said prior that I wanted to start the story 14 years before the Blight began, but the ages in Awakening are really 15 years in difference from when this story began. I wanted the Awakening ages because it is when Anders is first mentioned and I just wanted that connection in there.
I put that in there because I wanted to make it clear as to why I did what I did with the timeline. I just thought it would be helpful if you knew why I did that, because if I were in your shoes about to read this story I probably would've been tooooootally lost. If anyone has any questions about the plot or characters please ask me so I can clarify. I hope you enjoy it! I worked really hard on this! Let me know what was good and bad and what I can improve on! Ok I'm shutting up know.
-Andrea
"First Enchanter Irving, we are in the midst of a potential disaster!" Knight-Commander Greagoir bellowed as he marched his way through the First Enchanter's office door.
"What is it this time, Greagoir? Did one of the new apprentices spill milk one of the old beaten up tomes that we were in the process of replacing anyway? Oh please tell me you didn't threaten the poor child like you did poor Finn. I swear you traumatized the little thing. He still hasn't come out of his room…" Irving quipped.
"Do not jest at a time like this! An apprentice has turned apostate and we have no inkling of his location!" Greagoir lashed back.
"Knight-Commander Greagoir you're no nubile recruit. Surely you haven't forgotten that we have phylacteries just for situations like finding apostates, and bring them back to the tower safely."
Greagoir's glare intensified as he growled at the complacent older man and started pacing, "As you may have noticed, we have had a surprising rise in apprentices, and as you also know, the enchanting of the phylacteries to make them more effective can take days!"
"Yes, I am aware of all of that. So, am I right to believe that this is… was a new apprentice?"
"Yes, we received this little Blighter, almost a fortnight ago. There simply aren't enough Tranquil in the Circle of Fereldan to get around to these surplus phylacteries. Perhaps after this whole ordeal is over and the little twit is back in his place we'll have one extra." Greagoir said in a sinister tone.
The wise old man's warm smiled and disposition towards the Knight-Commander faded. He slammed his fists on his desk getting his colleague's attention and roared, "Never insinuate that you will make one of MY apprentices Tranquil when he is only a child! The Right of Tranquility is only administered when an apprentice volunteers! It is NOT to be forced upon the innocent! This child is most likely not able to cast the simplest fire spell, let alone the forbidden blood spells that the Chantry hold over our heads as if every mage in Thedas is guilty of preforming them! Even thinking of such a heinous act is enough that I will go to the Divine herself and say that you are no longer fit to oversee the Templars or Mages in Fereldan and must have your status terminated! This is a warning Greagoir. If you so much as touch that child or any other for that matter I will see you out of commission!"
The Templar's temper flared just as the old Mage's did and growled, "I have the Chantry on my side! I have just as much influence as you, old man! I am the Knight-Commander! I can see this boy hanged for his transgression!"
Irving matched Greagoir's snarl plus ten-fold and asked, "Have you already forgotten my warning, boy? I have overseen the mages of Kinloch Hold for thirty-eight years! The Divine is a fair-minded woman and will not stand for such bravado and pride in her ranks! That I can assure you of! Have you already forgotten what happened to your predecessor, Knight-Commander Bramwell?"
Greagoir served under his forerunner since he first came to the tower. Knight-Commander Bramwell Alrik was his name, and he was one nasty piece of work. When he first met him the first thing he noticed about him was his eyes. The lifeless, cerulean eyes what could pierce the through a pride demon with a single glare.
The reason why he was stripped of his commission five years before normal retirement was because he caused The Tranquil Controversy that was widely-known throughout Thedas. Bramwell caused the polemic by making it seem as though more and more apprentices were turning apostate. This caused Templar oversight nearly doubled which made it harder and harder for Bramwell to continue with his real motives. He was turning pre-harrowed apprentices into sex-slaves, and keeping them locked away in a hollowed out cavern he found in the Repository when he was looking for a place to store his first slave. He kept so many because they all died of starvation eventually.
The Tranquil were perfect targets. They didn't raise their voice. They didn't cry. They didn't disobey.
The whole fiasco almost eradicated the Rite of Tranquility all together, but that proposal was quickly dropped.
Bramwell's fate was that he was to be sent to the Aeonar. Greagoir was told there was a huge debate on whether or not he should be allowed to live. Oddly enough, Irving, the person who exposed him, suggested that he be sent to the mage's prison and not killed. To Greagoir, Irving had an admirable, yet foolish grasp of mercy. But the Aeonar has an awful reputation and perhaps it wasn't as merciful as everyone had thought.
Bramwell's brother Otto Alrik is stationed in Kirkwall as a Knight-Lieutenant. He joined the Templars as he found out the fate of his brother and no doubt he will be watched carefully by the Knight-Commander of Kirkwall.
Now the title of "Knight-Commander" carried even more mistrust amongst the mages and hundreds of people in Thedas. When Greagoir received the position a few years before his training ended, he vowed that he wouldn't become that stereotype. That he wouldn't be so hard on mages. But five years with the Divine, Grand Cleric, every Templar, and every mage breathing down his neck took its toll. His specific position as "Knight-Commander of Fereldan" was a blacklist now and everyone knew it. Everyone wanted to see how long it would take for him to muck up his status like Bramwell did. Sometimes the stress was too much and he gave into the drink and fervently prayed to the Maker for forgiveness. But he was still determined not to let the stress of being under a magnifying glass ruin him and everything he worked for.
Irving saw Greagoir in his concentration. He then stated in a gentler but still firm tone "I see you do remember his fate. If you do not heed my warnings I will not hesitate to spend you down the same road for misuse of the Right."
Greagoir accepted defeat and said "We should still assess the situation at hand, First Enchanter. The phylactery is nowhere near as useful as it usually is without it enchanted."
"No it isn't. Move this apprentice's phylactery to the top of the waiting list. This reminds me, you never did mention the child's name."
"His name is Anders." Greagoir spat at him.
"Anders? Ahh, I remember running into that little scamp while he was running around with some of the older apprentices. They took a liking to him quickly. But they were running around the tower playing tag with Rods of Fire, burning holes in each other's robes when they weren't looking! Sweeny and I are still laughing about it." Irving, having recovered from his outburst, and then returning to the warm, kind old man that he was.
This, however, appalled Greagoir. "You are reminiscing at a time like this? The boy could be halfway across Fereldan by now and we barely have an effective way to track him down!"
Irving sighed and shook his head at the man's impatience. He said in a gentle tone "Greagoir, the answer is simple. All you need to do is alert the other Chantry's of the boy's whereabouts and move his phylactery to the top of the waiting list. It also wouldn't hurt to make the enchantment more potent. It may take longer, but if it means bringing the boy back safely sooner than it is worth it. Also, make sure that patrols around the tower are doubled until we find him. It will add strain to your boys, but I'm sure that they can handle it."
Greagoir felt utterly foolish. Here he was a semi-newly-titled Knight-Commander, and he was just surpassed by a man at least double his age and a mage at that. As soon as Greagoir had calmed down a little, he felt more than a little guilty that he jumped to such a rash decision like making the boy Tranquil. He had always despised the Right. Even more after what Bramwell did. It didn't matter if he was a Templar or not. Extinguishing someone's humanity like that… it was not something that he thinks that his Maker would condone. And the fact that he thought that it was the only solution to deal with Anders, a child of at least seven, right off the bat was… repulsive.
Irving, sensing his distress, stood from his desk, walked over to the Templar, put his hand on the man's shoulder and said in a fatherly tone "Greagoir, do you know why I put your name forth to become the new Knight-Commander?"
"You put my name forward?" He said in disbelief.
"Yes I did. It was because you care for the mages here. That little outburst a few moments ago was just out of anger. But I still stand by what I said. I have been the First Enchanter of this Circle almost forty years, and even now… my greatest fear is Tranquility. I see them every day. I should be used to them by now but the fact that they were once vibrant people compared to what they are now, it will always be unsettling."
"Thank you, First Enchanter." Greagoir meekly said. He still never understood the man standing in front of him. He had known for years. His first encounter was when he had first entered the tower almost thirty years ago.
He was but a boy of eighteen at the time (though he thought himself a man because he was finally given a shiny new sword) and had only heard that mages would do anything to usurp your mind. When he first entered the Tower he noticed that a new apprentice sitting in the corner of the main entrance area. The little girl had long, light blond, kinky, curly hair. She was balled up in the fetal position cry quiet sobs into her arms. When he approached a little closer her head shot up. It was rather difficult to be subtle in heavy plate armor. She recoiled further into her corner and whimpered tears still pouring from her dazzling emerald eyes. He stopped and slowly lowered himself to his knees. Why has she just been left here in alone and scared out of her mind? She can't be more than five! He thought angrily. She looked into his dark eyes with terror.
I can't leave her like this. He gently began to speak "You don't need to be afraid of me. I won't hurt you I promise."
He then realized that she was now staring at the large steel weapon that was easily twice her size. He carefully got back to his feet and put his weapon where she couldn't see it. He'd come back for it when she calmed down. He then resumed his sitting position. She seemed to relax a little bit as she had stopped crying.
"Now that's better." He smiled "Now tell me your name and I'll tell you mine."
She looked around to see if anyone was watching and she whispered to Gregoir "M-My name is Amelia."
"That is probably one of the best names I've ever heard!" he said playfully. She sniffed her small nose, wiped her red, puffy eyes, and smiled.
"Thanks. What's your name?"
"Well my name is nowhere near as cool as 'Amelia', but my name is Greagoir."
"I like that name." she said meekly.
"Thank you, Amelia. Tell me, what are you doing out here all alone?" he asked with genuine concern.
"The man in the metal like yours with the big bucket on his head said if I didn't stop crying I wouldn't be allowed to have a bed." She whimpered. Her pitiful tone broke his heart.
"Well that's not fair. I can tell you're tired, and you need a bed just like everyone else. Come on. I'll go ask someone where your bunk is." He scooped the tiny child up in his arms and just like magic; she was asleep in his arms. Amelia's hair was just like his sister's, only lighter. It made him realize how much he missed his family. They had already scheduled visits every fortnight, but he wouldn't see them every day. That's what made this transition so hard. He looked down at the sleeping body in his arms and thought; I miss my family too. As is he were speaking to her, Don't worry it'll be okay. And that made him feel so much better.
"Psst… Hey, over here!" Greagoir whispered to a fellow Templar in the hallway by the dormitory, trying not to wake Amelia.
The man walked over Greagoir quietly said "This new apprentice needs a bed in the dorm. Are there any assignment rules about who sleeps where?"
The Templar whispered back "As long as she stays in that bed, it's hers."
"Thanks. I'll be out of your way."
"Hey." The Templar said as Greagoir turned to go.
"Hmm?" he responded.
"What's your name?"
"Greagoir."
He nodded and went back to his post.
Greagoir entered the girl's dormitory. It was still midday so all of the other apprentices were in class. Almost all of the bunks had a sign with a name on it telling to whom the bed belonged too. He found one without any messy blankets or a sign and he laid the small, sleeping child on it. She opened her bleary, bright green eyes as soon as Greagoir's arms weren't holding her anymore. "Where am I, Greagoir?" she croaked, her throat dry from a mixture of sleep and sobbing.
He sat on the edge of her bed "You're in your new bed, Amelia. Now go back to sleep. I'll come back and visit later once you're awake."
"Ok." She sat up and wrapped her small arms around his neck. When she broke away she almost pouted and said you have to pinkie promise that you'll come back.
He chuckled and then entwined their pinkies. "I cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."
She giggled, lay back down, and quickly ventured into the Fade.
A/N 2: The title may change. I could use some ideas thinking of a better one.