This is the opening prologue to Written In Blood, my latest and first Dragon Age fanfiction. I do not own Dragon Age or anything related to it. This is, however, my own, original fanfiction, and any characters I created myself belong to me.

Also, keep note that this is a bit of a twist on the Magi Origin story - what if the Surana character had also secretly dabbled in blood magic, but not to the same extent as Jowan, and also felt a little guilty for it? Enjoy. 3

Finn Surana laughed.

There he stood - a good 25 feet above the ground, he feet set upon the rooftop of a city chantry, under the glowing Thedas moon. He roared with laughter, and the treble of his maniacal began to increase ever so slightly as he caught sight of a unit of templars from the Circle Tower.

"Playing tag, are we?" Finn cackled.

Knight-Commander Germaine did not weld her sword nor her shield, but a lone, greave-armored hand.

"If you surrender now, Surana," she began, "the Circle will allow the templars to give you a slow, yet painless death," She gently placed her arm by her side, hesitated, and continued: "under the custody and watch of the Circle templars and mages."

Finn snorted, and then began his melody of raging laughter once more. "Of course, under the custody of you and your holiness - giving me sympathy in the name of the Maker, are you? Thinking that perhaps you could have a little threesome with Him and Andraste?

"I know how you are, Germaine - I've seen everything with my two eyes." Finn gestured to his head with a filthy grin, and finally noticed his hand - how wrinkled and aged it looked. He used the gentle radiance of the moonlight to study it even further. It looked as if though he was wearing a glove made from twisted and sliced human skin, and he couldn't get over how dark - how tan - it was. Or, was it more of a… Red? Yes, red… Dark red, like human blood…

Blood.

A thin wave of guilt began to rise over Finn, just as Germaine started to unveil her longsword from its sleeve. A sneer was involuntarily forming on her face as her thoughts raced throughout her Maker-devoted mind: Nobody - and I mean, nobody - mocks my bond with the Maker.

"C-Commander-" one of the templars stuttered.

Germaine touched of the tip of the frightened templar's throat with her sword, causing his fear to escalate. "Don't tell me you already forgot what the Senior Enchanter told you?"

Without waiting for a reply, Germaine repeated the last of the instructions she was given from the First Enchanter before she left the Tower: "If he passes up on the offer, don't give it a second thought - just be sure to bring back a body."

She turned quickly to speak to Finn, but atop the city chantry he was no longer. Germaine gritted her teeth, and ordered her unit to search for the corrupted mage - even if it was the last thing they would do.

Finn continued to run through the forest of evergreens and oaks, his mind racing at the same pace as his legs and feet. It was either death, or live as an apostate - and truly, he would easily give up either if another choice somehow existed, but he knew well enough to know there was none.

Finn's legs slowed to a sprint, and slowly decreased to a moderate walk. He was out of breath, but he did not seem as fatigued as he usually would be. He wondered if this was perhaps caused by his seemingly never-ending source of adrenaline from the templars' assualt - but he never would have even thought this much energy even existed within him.

Eventually, the sight of a pond in the near distance distracted him from these very thoughts. Keeping the same slow pace, he made his way to the edge, and sat on a decrepit tree trunk in the process of decomposition. As he sat, Finn noticed the bottom hem of his apprentice robes - the varying rips and tears, and one large slit on the right. He did nothing but sigh and lean towards the edge of the water to get a drink.

There, in his reflection, he saw his worst nightmare - the becoming of a nightmare himself.

Finn saw his prominent hazel eyes enlarge as he examined his appearance - the same twisted suit of skin that covered his own, with no retrace of the pale, yet perfectly white complexion he once had. His appearance that was once innocent, had transformed, and along the way, taken away all of the innocence he once had - the purity that many fail to find within the majority of the magi population.

Then, in the distance, he could hear the voice of Germaine calling his name: "Finn! Finn!"

Finn Surana - surrounded by the templars and his nearing fate - was an abomination.