In which Jowan and Teresa get to know Abigail, who will become the Grey Warden

I used to write poems when I was younger, and sometimes I still do. I write also, but

mostly on the events that have taken place in my lifetime. Had I known I could have changed the world, even a little bit, would I still have taken the paths that led me towards this life as a scribe? I know I would, even with all of the sacrifices that made it possible.

When Abigail and I met it was a turning point I would not have imagined at my young age. I had Teresa, who was admittable to being insane, and I was shy. I didn't like attention or being the smart kid. I had trouble with the most basic of spells and I couldn't make a flame to save my life. So why would she be interested in me at all?

We began to talk to each other during a class demonstrating the demonic tendencies of blood mages, believe it or not. It couldn't have been more appropriate. And after that class, we were inseparable.

Bryce was a tall, well-built man just fresh out of his Harrowing, and the first thing he elected to do within his free time was offer to teach a few classes 'just to try it out.' Jowan sat near the front, studiously copying down notes as the man continued on with his lecture. The younger boy had to admit he was doing quite well, strutting about in his new yellow robes, stroking the staff hanging on the sling from his back. Jowan had stared at it enviously when he first walked in, but now resigned himself to schoolwork with a quiet longing evident only in the way his eyes seemed to linger on the long, elegant piece of enchanted wood.

"While blood mages and demons have no more inter-correspondence than we do with the demons, they are more susceptible to a demon's sways," Bryce was saying loudly. "Teresa, what is the definition of a blood mage?"

Teresa glanced up from her notes, a constipated expression on her face. Jowan watched expectantly, waiting for her to weird the new teacher out, and wondered idly if anybody else had warned this man what he was getting into. "I don't know..." she said helplessly. "They like to cut themselves?"

Bryce didn't even lose step. "Good idea." He nodded. "Jowan?"

"A blood mage is a maleficar who can control another person by using an energy source that isn't lyrium," he said. "Um, blood, ser."

"Good, very good description, my boy," Bryce said, smiling. "Now, why would a blood mage resort to using this extra energy source? Yes, Abigail?"

She glanced at Jowan before saying, "If a blood mage wants to control another person, he's just trying to be manipulative and sneaky. I bet you could reason that their self-glorification in their own powers is what gets them in trouble with the demons. Demons are on a different thought-process than we are, but they understand a blood mage's baser motives for doing what they do. They'd know which strings to pluck."

Bryce's eyebrows raised another fraction. "Good job!" he congratulated. "Yes, that's exactly what I meant."

Teresa slapped a hand on her head. "Big words... help me! What's... uh, self-whadywhatit again?" Behind them, a few apprentices chuckled.

"I think she said 'self-glorification,'" their teacher said. "It means that they wish to elevate themselves up to a higher standing in their own eyes. They're arrogant, deceitful, and will do whatever it takes for power."

"I've heard of Grey Wardens who have had to use blood magic in the past, ser," Abigail said quietly. "So couldn't a maleficar be judged on base-by-base basis instead of being sentenced on the spot? I don't get why there is a blanket execution on all of those who practice it."

Oh no. Jowan knew she was stepping into dangerous turf now, and peeked at Bryce to see his reaction. The classroom had gone deathly quiet and even Teresa looked like she was paying attention.

Their teacher had turned around, hands clasped behind his back, and Jowan began to get a very nasty feeling about the coming events. He took a deep breath and said, "Blood magic is a type practiced by the Tevinter Imperium long ago, when Andraste began the First Exalted March. Most of the cases in the past have been determined to have fit into the disturbing parameters and have been judged forthwith to have been worthy of Tranquility or Death. We execute because we must. The Grey Warden you are talking about would have been pressed into a tight space indeed if he had to resort to such cruel methods."

"His name was Therum," she said, and not in a tone that would garner disapproval. She seemed to honestly want to debate the fact and not because she thought she was right. She was getting ready for an arguement.

Jowan revised his earlier thought: he wondered if anybody had warned him about her.

She took a quick breath before laughing into her story. "He was an Enchanter here at the Circle a hundred years after the last Blight. He was fighting a bad one and all of his mana was depleted. He didn't have any energy to continue to fight or to help save the girl he loved, so he resorted to blood magic. But he only used the kind that's self-inflicted. He never controlled a person nor tried to make them do something they themselves didn't want to do, but he kept practicing blood magic until he died."

"I see," Bryce said. "That must have been a special case, and he was in trying circumstances. But–"

"But ser, if what is according to that story is true, then is it true you can just be a blood mage without any kind of training?"

"No," Bryce said firmly. Jowan and Teresa exchanged a surprised look. "No, you need to be trained, you need to–ugh, I am not about to tell you how to be a blood mage."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, wincing. "I didn't mean it like that, though."

Oh, she was slick. The wheels were already in motion. Allan, a taller boy with curly black hair, raised his hand. Bryce, seemingly grateful for the subject change, called on him. "I just wanted to say," the boy said honestly, "that she's got a good point."

"Confound it," Bryce cursed. He walked to the door and closed it, his shoulders sagging. "Kids, I don't want to get into this discussion. If one word about this gets to Irving or Greagoir they'll probably think you're all just blood mages looking for a way to accept their nature–or at least leaning that way! Do you understand me? Take this conversation to First Enchanter Irving if you want to, but leave me out of it!"

He looked around to room, daring anybody to interrupt, and Jowan caught sight of Abigail's face. She was looking straight ahead, her jaw working. "Ser," he said softly, "I don't think she was trying to argue with you. Why is it that the Grey Warden could use it without training?"

"Yeah," Allan said. "You could, like, tell us so we won't do it and die."

Bryce shook his head. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I'm not familiar with the scroll–"

"I have it right here!" To everybody's astonishment, Teresa stood up and began to rifle through her bag.

"And how did you get this...?" Bryce asked, raising an eyebrow. "Was this planned?"

"Planned?" Teresa asked innocently, bringing out the yellowed parchment. "Nope!" She lengthened out the piece of paper on her wooden desk and read aloud the passage being described. Jowan closed his eyes, picturing it in his head. Therum the mage battling against the darkspawn ambush that threatened him and his beloved dwarf companion Agalfa as they made their way back to Orzammar. Jowan didn't know why they were down there, but the battle was described there, and then Therum's blood magic usage.

"Therum was spent and his magic useless against the darkspawn, but he knew of other ways," Teresa spoke. "He cut himself and drew on the blood energy, allowing it to replenish his strength, and he escaped with Agalfa."

"That's certainly a way, yes," Bryce said, flustered, "but I don't know. We don't teach blood magic here–I don't know it!"

"If blood magic is here then does that mean the Maker gave it to us?" Caterina Tomsson asked pointedly. "I bet the Templars would love that." She laughed.

"No, I don't–"

"Monkies!" Teresa shouted.

"What–monkies?" Bryce looked at Jowan for answers, and the younger boy just shrugged his shoulders. Don't ask me, this is normal. "Okay, first of all, children, I don't answer questions of that nature. My classes are based strictly on the curriculum given to me and those are the questions I will answer."

He glared at Abigail as if it were her fault, but she continued to stare at the wall, unperturbed. "Anything else, Miss Amell?"

"No, ser," she said stiffly.

"Very good then," he said, mimicking her tone. "So, picking up where we went off, if we assume that the earlier statement is true, then we can also define..."

The rest of the class went longer than Jowan could have though possible and was spent in complete silence. Tension hung in the air as dangerous as static electricity and the spring had been removed from Bryce's step. Teresa's foot was bouncing up and down, tapping out the time it would take for the class to end; Jowan watched Abigail out of the corner of his eye in-between taking notes; and Abigail just made an occasional entry on her parchment, somehow managing to look both bored, deferent, and angry at the same time. Even as he watched her face began to smooth out as she calmed down until finally she was almost back to normal.

When the great bells began to ring, signaling the end of the day, Bryce was the first one to leave. The rest of the Apprentices followed behind him, save two. Teresa came over to join him, as did Abigail. That was a surprise. Teresa was the only friend you could really ask for in a prison such as the Circle, with her humor and bad jokes. That Abigail came over was a different story. As she approached Jowan could feel his heart beginning to race.

Abigail was a figure separate from the other Apprentices, like he and Teresa were. She literally had no close friends at all, even though she could get along with just about anybody. In fact, Jowan could tell she had a curious impact on people. She wasn't being manipulative per say, but somehow just being around her was refreshing. It was as if she was a clear pond on a hot summer day.

Jowan never could realize how she did it, but she did, even now as she was affecting him. She smiled gratefully and his heart began to slow into a softer beat, a thrum-thrum in the background.

She was by far the smartest person in their classes with the largest vocabulary, and she was also the most easy-going. To see her get into a debate with a teacher and be told down wasn't just shocking–it was unheard of. That was why Jowan had pitched in there at the end to defend her, even if it didn't seem to help at all.

"Thanks for helping me out, you two," she said in an earnest little voice. "Sometimes I wonder if getting into these debates is what my dad had in mind when he took me to work with him. Sounds like Bryce will be a very interesting teacher this time around."

What was also strange about Abigail was her voice. It wasn't high-pitched or clear as the voices of other girls, but somehow more soft and subtle, with a hint of huskiness. It was a voice that rarely had to raise to be heard.

Teresa laughed out loud. "That was the best idea ever, Abby!"

Jowan was beginning to feel a bit out of the loop. "What was?"

"I convinced Teresa to check out A History of Grey Warden Magi when I heard the Bryce would be teaching," she said shyly. "But even when I did I still didn't think you'd have it with you. So thanks."

"Really?" Jowan asked, nonplussed. "Devious. I like it."

"Hey, let's go to the practice areas," Teresa suggested. Jowan quickly agreed. "Come on, Abs, hang out with us," she said when an uncertain look crossed over Abigail's face. It was as if she didn't know if the invite had extended to her or not, but she nodded with a wide grin.

Jowan and Abigail had only talked a few times before, mostly with the polite chit-chat that filled the times between classes, and she and Teresa had obviously been on better terms than he knew of. They both tended to do a good job of staying in the shadows to watch the frivolous child drama play out. People were dating now, and kissing, and Jowan would have bet a couple of lunches that some even managed to do The Deed in locked classrooms. He could have hand-picked the students out. Abigail seemed to blend in with the crowd unless it suited her, but he'd never seen her holding hands with another boy.

As they walked Abigail began to start a discussion of her own. "Do you think the Tranquil go to the Maker once they die?"

"Uh... yeah?" Teresa looked like she was having a hard time understanding where this was going, but Jowan had figured it out on the first try. It was interesting, and he'd never thought of it before. "Everybody goes to the Maker."

"How can somebody go to the Maker if they are cut off from the Fade?" Jowan asked, gathering his mental groundings for the debate ahead. "You can't use magic anymore, and the demons and spirits of the Fade can't find you because you're just gone. So how can the Maker find you?"

"Maybe... the Maker is all-knowing?" Abigail suggested. "Maybe the Maker imparted the knowledge of Tranquility on us just to protect certain people from doing themselves in?"

"What do you mean?" Teresa asked.

"The Maker doesn't like demons, but He created them. It's like..." Her mouth twisted up in a grin at this. "It's like marrying somebody you don't like anymore but you can't get rid of them because they're stalking you."

They all looked at each other for one long moment, then burst out laughing. "I never thought of it like that before," Jowan chortled. "Go tell that to Irving, I dare you."

"No, thanks," Abby said. "I think I'm in enough trouble as it is."

Jowan felt he had to pitch in to defend her somehow. "No way. Bryce won't do anything that will screw up his chances of looking like a great teacher. Unless Allan or somebody goes up to Irving and tells him everything that went on, and I can't see them doing that."

"I hope not," Abigail mumbled. "That would... really suck."

Jowan knew it would, so he didn't say anything else. Teresa began to hum a little tune as they made their way to the practice areas. There were about twenty or so mages spread out among the spacious room, so the three Apprentices took an area near the corner that was less crowded than most and began to prepare.

"You know, I bet the Tranquil don't go to the Maker," Jowan told her quietly, once Teresa had left to get some firewood to practice their flame spells. "I think Tranquility is a Hell designed by men. I think it's horrible."

She read the fear in his face, the grim set to his eyes, and she nodded. "So let's never be Tranquil," she said. "Ever."

He agreed.