This is my second fic, it was going to be a one shot.

I've had a lot of people interested in seeing this progress, I'll be working on this story more in the near future. I want to thank everyone who reads and reviews, it's nice to hear peoples thoughts on the stories as it unfolds. I have some dear close friends how deserve thanks, but wish to remain nameless you know who you are. I thank you so very much.

Hope you enjoy. :)

He didn't know what was worse, the intense searing pain or the fear.

Anders really didn't think he would ever have to go through this again. Running for his life like this, and yet, here he was running from Templar's again. His mana was completely drained and he was slowly bleeding to death, with no way to heal himself. He knew it wasn't a good idea to stop as he stumbled through a darkening forest; the pain in his leg was making it increasingly hard for him to not just collapse and give up.

If he lived through this, the Commander was going to kill him; he just knew it. He hadn't meant to shoot lightning at the Templar standing guard in front of the chantry. He'd had a little too much to drink and the local drunk had bet him he could zap the small potted plants from a hundred feet away; it seemed such a good idea at the time.

It was still early in the evening; the onset of twilight where everything basked in the bluish haze before the dark engulfed everything. Darkness was bad. Very, very bad. This was the only chance he had to dodge the Templars. Of course, in a darkened forest he could very quickly be killed and eaten by something much worse; that is if he didn't bleed to death first.

He could hear them coming now, the heavy thumping and scraping of metal on metal; one of them laughed.

"Bastards," Anders gasped

Pain shot up his leg into his hip with every step. One of the Templar's had slashed his leg with his broad sword after smiting him, draining him of his mana; he wasn't even able to cast a small healing spell to stop the bleeding. He knew this was a game to them. He had told them that he was a Grey Warden, that they couldn't touch him. They either didn't believe him or didn't care. It didn't matter now; he was sure he was going to die out here one way or another.

Anders stumbled into a small clearing. Everything was starting to become hazy. A wave of nausea hit him and he fell to his knees, heaving out the contents of his stomach, the smell of vomit and alcohol making his eyes burn. His whole body was trembling it was no use, he couldn't go any farther; they were going to catch him and kill him. They could go back and tell whatever story they wanted, and no one would know any different. A dead man can't defend himself.

Falling onto his back into the soft grass, he waited, resigned to his fate. Anders wondered if the Commander had noticed he was missing yet, if she and the other wardens would be able to find out the truth of what really happened to him. Sadness washed over him. Finally, things were really good in his life; he was making a difference he never thought he could, helping save everyone from the Darkspawn threat. No more tower, no more running for his life, for his freedom. He had a family with the Wardens. At least he wouldn't have to go into the Deep Roads in twenty-five or so years, if you could call that a bright side.

As Anders stared up at the stars, he smiled. He loved to look at the stars; they'd always meant freedom to him. There was no tower, no confinement, just freedom and stars. He shivered, feeling chilled even though it was a warm night. The loss of so much blood made him feel cold. He heard them lumbering from the forest. His body tensed. This was would look up at the stars until it was over. He wouldn't give them whatever sick satisfaction they wanted.

"Ha! There he is." said, the taller of the two Templars triuphantly, "I told you he wouldn't get too far."

This was the one that Anders had hit with the bolt of lightning. It hadn't even been a strong bolt, but it had been enough to send the Templar into a insane rage. The man was very tall but Anders had never seen his face, he had his helm on. The tall Templar stormed his way into the small clearing towards Anders.

Some Templars loved the thrill of the hunt. There were always those that became Templars for that reason; it was what they loved most about their lot in life. They believed that all mages should be wiped out, as they were abominations waiting to happen. Clearly this templar was such a one; however, he also thought this mage deserved to suffer before he died, for foolishly attacking him.

The younger Templar with him had lost his helm before running out of the city. His long blond hair fell into his eyes, sticking to his face, sweat beading on his cheeks. Raising one of his gauntleted hands to tuck the stray hair behind his ear, he looked down at Anders nervously.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Ser?" He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't like this; no one had been hurt, and even he could tell it had been an accident. If this mage was a Grey Warden, as he had said, they could get into a lot of trouble for killing him.

The tall Templar growled and kicked Anders hard in his side. A sickening crack was audible as two of Anders ribs broke under the plate boot. Anders screamed in pain, writhing and gasping for air, holding his side.

"Shut up, boy. You saw what he did to me!" he spat, "The mage deserves everything he gets and more." Reaching down and grabbing a handful of Ander's hair, he yanked him up, pulling him to his feet.

Anders tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't hold him. The pain in his ribs eclipsed the pain in his leg, that now felt mostly numb and useless. He collapsed again in a coughing fit, spitting out blood. 'This isn't good,' thought Anders. Every breath rattled his chest; it was becoming harder to take in air. A rib had punctured a lung, he was sure. The angry Templar dropped him to the ground. As he fell in a crumpled heap, Anders could hear the two Templars arguing now. The younger one had to be no older than his teens, still in training. Anders couldn't focus enough to hear their shouts, the pain was far too much.

Then Anders felt it. The pull of magic in the air. A small wave of warmth engulfed him, easing some of the pain in his ribs, clearing his mind. He wondered where it came from. He wasn't the only one who felt it pull. The two Templars stopped their heated argument and fell silent. There was another mage.

"Where is it?" Anders heard one of them ask. He couldn't tell which one it was. He felt a small glimmer of hope. If he lived, he would be the luckiest man alive and would kiss that mage, whoever they were.

Anders scanned the clearing as he laid as still as possible; the forest was too dark to see much. Then he felt it again, the pull of magic. This time though, it was much, much stronger. This wasn't a healing spell. His head snapped in the direction of the pull, as did the Templars. They began to move forward, towards the feel of the magic, drawing their swords, heading at a fast pace to the tree line but before anyone could act there was a sudden flash of light that lit the open space around them as ball of fire shot past Anders head, smashing into the helmed head of the taller Templar, knocking him back. The force of the blow was so hard, it snapped his neck as he landed crashing on his back.

Than Anders saw her; a human woman, stepping gingerly from the darkest part of the forest. From what he could see she looked a little younger then he was, but it was hard to yell as the light was fading fast. She was dressed in simple gray robes, nothing as fancy as what Anders normally wore. She was of average height, her long dark hair touched at her waist. She walked to where Anders lay, glaring at the young Templar, who stared in shock at her. She looked angry as lightning crackled around her hands, trailing up, licking at her arms. This woman was oozing magic. Anders tried to sit up straight but the pain in his ribs toppled him; he hissed as the pain became too much. The woman glanced at Anders, sympathetically; she wanted to help him. Seeing her falter, the young Templar seized his chance and charged her.

Lightning flew through the air at the young Templar; He was barely able to dispel it before it hit him. She cursed under her breath as she moved out of his way, before he almost ran her through. She darted over to Anders' side, kneeling beside him. With a swift movement of her hand she encased them both in a protective shield, before the young Templar was able to turn clumsily, making another run at them, his sword held high.

"He's not very smart is he?" She said, loud enough for only Anders to hear. He laughed, then hissed again, in pain.

"You know if it hurts, you really shouldn't do it." She smiled at him.

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind next time I'm dying." Anders smirked, holding his side.

She pulled at the magic around her again, gathering it slowly within her hands; her father had taught her well when dealing with Templars. Never, ever let them get the upper hand and never, ever let them live, if they are after you. She felt a pang of guilt about this one, though; he was only a boy. But she knew when it comes to the Templars, you couldn't let them live or there will be more to follow, and they will kill you. It's kill or be killed. She felt the mass of magic vibrate in her hands as she gathered unseen magic together. She built it up, up into a massive ball of energy, then shot it out in front of her, towards the Templar, hitting him square in the chest. The sound was deafening as it hit his plate armor, smashing a hole through it into his chest sending him flying back. He was dead before he hit the ground. The woman fell to her knees weak and almost completely drained of her mana.

Anders stared, gaping at what he had just seen. It seemed impossible to push that much energy out with that much force. No, it was impossible. This woman was terrifying; he was very glad she was on his side.

Sighing, she staggered to her feet and walked slowly over to the young Templar's lifeless body. Blood oozed from the large hole in his chest; his lifeless eyes, stared up at her in frozen in horror. His blonde hair covered part of his face; she reached out, brushing it back behind his ear, tears in her eyes.

"sorry." she whispered softly to the lifeless body, before moving away to check that the other Templar was also dead. She felt no remorse for killing that one. Satisfied that the Templars were dead and no longer a threat to them, she knelt by Anders, casting a few wisps to help her see better. The moon not casting nearly enough light to see by but, with her power so low, she wasn't sure how long she could maintain the wisps. She laid her hands gently on Anders chest, her hands glowing a faint blue as she assessed his injuries. She was dangerously low on mana, making her feel weak; she knew she needed to get him back to her cabin to care for him properly.

"Thank you ... for saving my life." Anders' voice was shaky as he fought the urge to faint.

"Shhh, no need for that now." Her voice was soft as she worked "You've lost a lot of blood, too much really. I'm surprised you're still conscious." A hint of panic filled her voice as she lifted his robes to try and assess the wound on his leg. It had stopped bleeding, thankfully; he could tell that the cut was right to the bone. His leg pulsed.

"I need to take you home; I can't see well enough, even with the wisps. This wound needs to be cleaned before I can heal it. I'm far too low on mana and I didn't bring any lyrium potions with me." She frowned. "Can you walk?"

He knew there was no way he could walk; everything was still spinning and the pain was unbearable when he tried to move. He was surprised that he wasn't out cold. 'The joys of the taint,' he thought to himself. He knew there was still a very high chance of dying here, even with her help.

"Take me home? Shouldn't you buy me dinner first?"

She stared at him blankly for a moment, then chuckled "A funny man, huh? Well unless you want to die here in the middle of the forest, with the dead templar's..."

"No, no... That's not what I'm saying, I'm just... all right let's try."

She nodded. "I don't live to far from here."

She grabbed hold of Anders' arm, pulling it around her neck and across her shoulder; she pushed herself up, pulling him carefully to his feet. He grunted in pain as he stood; everything was spinning out of control. He felt another soft pull of magic, then the warmth and light tingling in his ribs.

"Damn it" she spat," I'm sorry, that's all I had left."

She grunted as she tried to keep him from falling back to the ground. The little amount of healing had helped, but not enough. With one step forward, the blinding pain shot through his leg again and he felt a gush of blood pour from the wound. He heard her curse but it seemed muffled. He wondered if the Commander would take good care of Pounce for him, then he was falling into darkness. Her voice tugged at the edge of his mind; he tried to pull himself back to the voice. She has such a lovely voice. He now wished he had asked her what her name was, but it didn't matter now. The pain wiped it all away and pulled him deep into its depths as he lost himself in the darkness.