Exodus

"Such destruction… And all this blood is on my hands…" he said in bitter thoughtfulness. As our ship was sailing away from the shore, he was staring through the misty veil of distance to the hollow space where the chantry used to stand in all its splendor before the explosion left nothing but debris of it.

What could I possibly say? I had already scolded him for hiding his plans from me. Kirkwall had been swallowed in this mess so fast that many people – many innocent citizens – just never got a chance to run for their lives. And I knew he was to blame.

"How many victims?" I wondered to myself and dwelled on it for a moment.

Loving Anders – a possessed mage, restless by his very nature – was never easy. I knew what he was from the beginning. Double. Twisted. Engaged in a gruesome internal warfare, struggling to appease that dangerous creature of Justice… of Vengeance inside him. Being a mage myself, I understood perfectly well what I was messing with, what I was getting myself into. Into trouble, in fact. Anders warned me about that, too. Well, more than once, actually… I took neither of his warnings – I am a stubborn, stubborn woman who just doesn't want to be safe, I guess. We have been together for 3 years now, and I was always there, by his side. I soothed his feverish mind when he was up with obsession with some of those ideas; I talked to him, cheered him up when he was down to complete listlessness or got one of those "eclipses", saying weird things I could barely comprehend. That was never easy, yes. And yet, it was incredibly rewarding – it felt like I was preserving something precious, saving it from decay. For the most of time, Anders was calm and content, and I was happy to see him like that. To see apparently Anders – sweet, charming, tender, and loving. That creature of Vengeance never really appeared when he was with me…

I saw abominations – possessed mages – there was some wicked abundance of them in Kirkwall. I saw a man who stabbed his wife while she was giving him a hug, just because he needed her blood as a fuel for his magic. I saw a woman who was trying to hurt the orphaned children she used to care for. I saw a girl killing the templar who wanted to make a difference, to really help the mages. They all were beyond salvation. Anders was different. And I kept telling him so all over again, every time doubts started to trouble his soul. Even in his rage, when Vengeance took over, he unleashed the spirit's fury only upon those who hunted him. He never tried to hurt me or any of our allies.

Yes, I know. He is still double; there is still a chance that his own mind will one day be crushed under the pressure of that second one; that he will be lost to this eerie madness, leaving nothing of Anders but an empty shell. This has always been my greatest fear…

Some would say that only a madman could do what Anders had done…

I gave him a subtle look. The moment he spoke up and declared his doing he looked perfectly sane, and so it was now. It seemed like his mind had never been that clear – not a trace of the struggle, not a single manifestation of spirit's influence. So I know better. This is not the case.

At last, I ventured speaking.

"You know, I… really think there was no other way to put an end to this."

"I should have known that if there's anyone at all to understand, then it's you," he turned his face to me, his weary eyes slightly touched by a sparkle of warmth.

"Did you really think I could kill you?"

"I felt that I deserved this. And I assumed you wouldn't forgive me for such a mess in the city you'd always cared to protect. And.. I'd rather succumb to you than to the templars."

"You are so silly," I said with a loving reproach.

"And you are always right," he smiled, ashamed and relieved. "This is why I love you."

The only truth is that which comes from your heart. So here I am – in his arms, my head on his shoulder, thanking the Maker that Anders had made it through all this alive; feeling like I fell in love with him again – deeper than ever before.