One more step back, and he knew that he would have felt the cold, damp stone wall in contact with his back. As the mixed scent of the pot and the rotting skin of the undead reached his nostrils, Jowan knew he was powerless. He could either hope that the undead was more smart than he looked and chose another prey, or he could still... No. Not anymore. Blood magic had ruined his life so far and he wasn't going to let it happen again. Jowan looked at the undead monster once again: he was pushing out his arms between the bars, slamming his flesh-stripped body against the metal. Nope, not smart at all. Jowan wondered why demons couldn't produce more cunning minions, considering their mighty powers. For once, he thanked that noblewoman for having shut him into a cell. As ironic as it looked, his prison had become his shelter. Just like the Circle, uh? For a moment, just a single moment, Jowan felt nostalgic: as constraining as it is, the Circle grants their guests some kind of safety. You never have to worry about what's happening in the real world, it can never hurt you. After all, freedom possessed its own downside. For example, not having a choice but sit and wait for undead monsters to leave.
Suddenly, the undead's arms began to tremble. In a matter of moments the same tremor extended to his whole body, and several lightning bolts crackled upon him. A couple of bolts bounced on the iron bars of his cell. Jowan didn't care for any of that: as much as he despised Kinloch Hold, magic was part of him as much as his heart, or his lungs. Enchanted, he savored the magic stream conveyed by the lighting spell. The spell lasted less than ten seconds, but for Jowan it had been much more than that. It had been like reliving the emotions of a whole life. The undead turned to his left, only to withstand a tremendous sword blow towards its sternum. The sudden appearance of a young man, the same swordsman responsible for the blow, brought Jowan back to reality. The sword snapped the monster's bones, severing him in two. A red headed woman entered the picture, crushing skeletal hand as it tried to hold her ankle. She was holding two daggers, one into each hand.
"Fire coming!" warned a female voice. Both the warrior and the red-headed fighter moved away from the undead just in time to see it catching fire. One last start, then the undead's bones crackled and it stopped moving at all.
As the fire extinguished, Jowan lift up his gaze. He stared at the swordsman: it was a familiar face, but he was unable to connect it to a name. Recalling how little people he had met after his escape, Jowan realized where he most probably met the man. He was no apostate, so... Jowan shivered. Could he be a templar? But what in the name of the Maker was a templar doing outside the Circle? And why wasn't he wearing his armor? Busy cleaning his sword, the almost-surely templar hadn't noticed him yet. It was just a matter of time though. Jowan could hear steps nearing the cell, and voices. Wait, that voice? Could it be...
"Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you?" the red-headed girl asked him. Now, Jowan could see her properly: sweet traits on her face, an orlesian accent. Just like the noblewoman.
"Wait, are you..." Jowan started asking. The girl looked at him, inserting a thin, metal yarn into the lock.
"Questions later. More undead might come" she interrupted.
Jowan began to relax, Maybe he had been wrong. Everyone can be mislead by voices, after all. Maybe he was about to grasp freedom for real. He could have started over, forget his old name and subsequently his sins. Sins he never meant to commit, sins for which he didn't feel responsible, sins he had not choice but to commit.
"Leliana, wait! I know this man! Vivianne, come, you should see this!" roared the warrior. Jowan looked at him once again, only to find himself staring at ser Cullen Rutherford. Ser Rutherford, the most compassionate of all templars based in Kinloch Hold. But now, hate was burning into his eyes.
The red-headed, Leliana as they had called her, moved away, while a more familiar voice reached Jowan's ears. "What, Cullen?" Vivianne Surana asked. Vivianne. His only friend at the Circle, the one who cared for him enough to risk her newly earned position as a mage to help him and Lily leave. The controlled, quiet, gentle Vivianne. She appeared in front of him, her blond hair gathered into a braid, a comfortable pair of trousers and a jacket instead of the Circle Robe. By her side stood a black haired woman wearing a somewhat exotic dress garnished with feathers. The staff she clenched identified her as a mage.
"Jowan?" Vivianne called out, joyful surprise in her voice. She leant over to hug him tight between the bars. "I thought you were dead" she whispered. All of a sudden, Jowan was sure everything was going to be alright. Never once in her life Vivianne had picked the wrong choice. Plus, she was his friend. If anyone could understand, it was her.
A manly hand grabbed Vivianne's forearm, the templar's hand. His friend turned towards the templar. "He's an apostate and a blood mage, Viv. You know what you need to do" he calmly stated. Instinctively, Jowan wondered whether Vivianne was safe or not around him. And It took him only one second to reassure himself: when talking to Vivianne the templar's voice was nothing but calm, his gaze nothing but gentle, almost sweet. He even seemed to understand her joy in seeing again a friend. Nonetheless, he was a templar: someone bound to bring back an apostate where he belonged.
Vivianne, though, stared right into his eyes and replied him in a stubborn, determined way Jowan would have never expected. Vivianne wasn't one to talk back. "You know very well that in any other circumstance I wouldn't hesitate. But considering the reason why you're here, can you really blame him, Cullen? We made it, he and Lily didn't. If you want me so bad to return him to the Circle, you should remain there, too". Her voice sweetened. "And I'd rather not. He could come with us, we could make sure he doesn't use blood magic anymore".
Giving them both an annoyed look, the black-haired witch yawned. "Yes, templar. What's one more apostate, after all?".
Cullen clenched his jaw. He obviously wasn't satisfied, but he nodded in agreement. "On one condition. He tells us what he's doing into a dungeon cell. If everything's clear, he comes with us".
"Seems fair" agreed Vivianne. She turned to Jowan "What do you think, Jowan? You should now that, if you follow us you will encounter much more danger than that". She moved her hand around, indicating that she was referring to the undeads. "I'm a Grey Warden and we have a Blight to stop. Still, better than going back to the Circle, right?".
"A... Grey Warden?" Jowan inquired, incredulously. Perhaps that was why Vivianne didn't sound like his old friend. A Grey Warden can't just be a gentle soul. "Yes. Yes, of course. I'm in".
Vivianne, no, Warden Vivianne, smiled in relief. "Great. Tell us, then. How did you end up here?". She paused briefly. "I'm sure your actions are nothing but commendable, but Cullen is right. We need to know. Plus, If you were at the castle when the attacks started maybe you could be able to tell us what happened".
He looked at the group from behind the bars. Her friend's confidence was utterly a mistake, his past was far from commendable, but he had no choice. He had to tell them everything, even if it meant losing his last chance.
Still standing, Jowan raised his face to face them. "After the escape, I had no place to go" he started quietly. "You know very well I couldn't go back to my home, Vivianne. From the moment they found out I had magic in my blood, in their eyes I became an abomination. Magic has always been my only talent, and I was aware that some group of smugglers could have some use for an apostate. Unfortunately, I had no idea where to look for them". Jowan paused, giving the group a brief look. "No one was willing to employ an adult as an apprentice. My only choice left was to use my powers without revealing my identity. So, I became an illusionist. I started practicing... magic tricks in exchange for money. There was no real magic involved, of course".
"I'm so sorry, Jowan" Vivianne whispered. She briefly cupped his hand with hers. Jowan met her haze with his, and he desperately desired she wasn't the Watden. He'd rather have been executed than have to tell her how he had conspired with her enemy. He swallowed, and forced himself to continue his tale.
"One day, I had prepared a common number. A woman I had payed would have been cut in half. The trick" he explained "is simple. The assistant folds her legs inside the box. I and the woman had agreed that in case of any problem, she would have knocked on the box. Amongst my public there was one of Loghain's guards. That day, the inner workings of the box broke and I had no choice but stop the show and let the woman out. Needless to say, the public was enraged. And Loghain's guard arrested me"
"And that's why I'll always be grateful to my mother" exclaimed the black haired witch.
"Shut your mouth, Morrigan" ordered her Vivianne . She cast a worried glance to Jowan. "Maker. Loghain didn't hurt you, did he? He'll have to pay for that too!". He saw her clenching her fists. He drew a deep breath.
"It was a trap, Viv.I have no idea how, but he knew who I was and he needed an apostate... who could do his biddings" he revealed. His voice almost broke when he resumed talking. "He told me Lady Isolde needed a tutor for his son, Connor, since she refused to take him to the Circle, and that I would have offered my services and used the occasion to poison Arl Aemon. I was told he was a traitor to the Crown. He and" only know, Jowan dared to look Vivianne in the eyes. "and the Wardens. I swear, I had no idea he was talking about you! How was I supposed to know a Teyrn was lying?".
Jowan saw Vivianne turning pale. She stared at him without a word. Her face was expressionless. The glance the templar cast him was so full of blame that Jowan could almost see his own crimes parading in front of him.
"And what of the undeads? Are these your doing too?" the woman called Leliana asked.
Jowan shook his head, grabbing the metal bars. "I'm not responsible for that. I never thought Connor any blood magic, nor anything similar. Even if I wanted to, I don't have the ability to raise an army of undead! Perhaps Connor unintentionally tore the veil and called a demon out, that's the only answer I can offer. I don't know anything more, I'd been imprisoned already when the undeads started attacking the town".
Once again, Vivianne Surana didn't say a single word.
She moved towards the cell, clung to the bars. It started with a couple of soft sobs. As her head leant on the metal, tears rolled on the Warden's cheeks. Clueless, Jowan moved to hug her friend, only to be stopped by Cullen. As he held the blonde mage's by the waist, he growled at Jowan "Don't you think you've done enough?".
It took Vivianne several minutes and the comfort of her friends to stop crying. And when she did, she raised to Jowan her green, red and swollen eyes. She kept holding the bars.
"Now I have duties, and I can't risk to have this mission jeopardized by anyone who might remotely end up doing that. And in all conscience, I cannot ignore your crimes, amongst which blood magic is the slightest" declared Vivanne in a croaky voice. "I have no choice, my friend. I have to take you back to the Circle"
Jowan lowered his eyes. He had been aware all along, and yet for a moment, a single moment, he had trusted her sweet natured, forgiving nature. "What choice did I have, Viv? I couldn't let them make me Tranquil. I had to protect Lily. I had no choice but obey Teyrn Loghain". Jowan hesitated, for a second only. "I always admired you, my friend. You are righteous, determined, talented. I wanted to be like you, that's why I turned to blood magic. I didn't want to feel such a failure anymore. Every trouble started with blood magic. And for that, I can't blame no one but myself. Not my love for Lily, not Teyrn Loghain". Jowan looked into Vivianne's eyes, still bright with her previous tears. "If you let me go, you wouldn't be yourself". He extended her hand towards hers.
Without hesitating, Vivianne held it. "I don't want to, Jowan. I wish there was another way" she murmured.
Jowan kept quiet for a while. Looking at her, he recalled every moment they had lived together. He recollected how, the day he entered the Tower, Vivianne had been the first to befriend him. He recalled all the times she had helped him with spell practice. He relive the swift, quick kiss he had stolen her when they were twelve years old, and how she had laughed softly when he had apologized, thus avoiding to make it big issue. That time in the library, when she had confessed him how she was falling in love with a templar. And finally, the way she had risked everything to help him and Lily. Jowan closed his eyes. "There is another way, Viv. Don't take me back. Use your magic to stop my heart, let me feel the stream of magic for the last time".
The Warden, his friend opened her eyes wide. "I can't" she almost squealed.
Gently, Jowan pulled her hand on his heart, covering hers with his own. "That's my last request as a friend, Viv. Please. Don't let them take me. They could make me Tranquil, Viv. Don't let them steal all I am" he mumbled.
Vivianne offered no response except a muffled crying. But it was not long after that Jowan sensed her hand squeeze his robe, and a soft electricity vibe shaking his body. He crumbled on his knees, and as his sight faded away, the last thing he saw was his best friend crying for him and her lover held her into his arms. Live long and happily, he thought. Then, everything faded to grey.
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This story was written for the "October Minor Character Challenge". Dammit. I love angst, but I hate myself when I write angst!