Meredith hid in the cellar, painfully aware of the chaos that was happening outside. The weather-worn wood door couldn't block out the screams that pierced through her ears, the scent of blood filling her nostrils, or the feeling of hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Her left calf stung from where Amelia, or what was once Amelia, swiped at her. Meredith was there when she saw her older sister distort into that horrible creature. The wound left on her leg was all she had to show of her encounter. Her parents weren't as lucky.
More than a decade had passed and Meredith found purpose within the Templar Order. But every night, she woke up back in that cellar. Her eyes were aching. Her breathing was ragged. Her blonde hair was stuck to her cheeks with dried tears. She stared at the ceiling, waiting for the wood door of the cellar to be replaced with the stone walls of the barracks. Meredith swore her nightmares only got worse after she started taking lyrium. She was told it was a common side effect, but that didn't make it feel less real.
The stone floor was cold against Meredith's bare feet as she paced back and forth through the barracks. She tried to keep her mind focused on anything else. The gentle patting of her feet against the floor. The rhythmic breathing and snoring of the other recruits. The lulling sound of the waves lapping at the shore outside. If she let her mind go blank for even a second, she was right back in that cellar.
The moonlight flowing through the windows made it easier for Meredith to see as she stepped quietly through the hallway. The lack of templars bustling through made the area feel like it was frozen in time. Meredith wasn't focusing on where she was going. She couldn't even remember leaving the barracks. But she soon found herself outside of Knight-Captain Wentworth's office. She stood in the doorway, watching him look over his paperwork until he finally noticed her.
"Meredith?" his tired eyes softened. "Is everything okay?"
"Ser Wentworth," Meredith bowed her head as she felt a sense of shame wash over her. Was she really going to the knight-captain because she had a bad dream? "I didn't mean to bother you. I'll leave you to your work."
"Meredith," Wentworth repeated, this time much more stern. "If something is troubling you, I want to help."
Meredith could feel her lip start to quiver, but she hid it behind her hair. She kept her gaze lowered when she entered Wentworth's office and sat in the rickety wood chair across from his desk. For the longest time, she didn't speak. Wentworth went back to his paperwork, but it didn't bother her. The sound of his quill scratching against the rough parchment helped relax her racing mind. When she found the words, she could barely get her voice above a whisper.
"I had a nightmare again."
Wentworth immediately dropped his quill and pushed his paperwork to the side. The shame Meredith felt in her chest grew stronger. Her quivering hands tugged at the ends of her tangled flaxen hair.
"Just from the lyrium," Meredith stared at the threadbare rug beneath Wentworth's desk, straining her eyes in an effort to keep them from tearing up again. "I shouldn't have bothered you."
"Meredith, please," Wentworth reached his hand across his desk. "You know you can talk to me about anything."
There was no use talking to Wentworth about the incident. He was there. But Meredith nodded, hiding her face behind a veil of hair to cover her leaking eyes.
"I feel so weak, ser," she sniffed and rubbed her running nose with the back of her hand. "I could have saved at least one person. But I couldn't. All those people died while I hid like a coward."
Wentworth said nothing for the longest time. He took her trembling hands in his, which helped her feel more grounded. Meredith's hands were starting to grow rough from the years of rigorous training, but they were nothing like Wentworth's. The numerous scars and burns that decorated his aged hands told the story of a soldier who saw his fair share of battles. Including hers.
"Do you remember what you said to me when the templars found you?"
Meredith couldn't speak, but she nodded. Her nightmares always ended when she was still in the cellar, but her conscious mind remembered everything. She remembered holding her breath and praying to the Maker with every fiber of her being as the cellar door creaked open. As sunlight seeped in through the cellar, Meredith saw the form of a templar knight standing above her. If she wasn't already crying, she would have wept at the sight of the Templar insignia on his armor. Her prayers were answered.
"You pulled me out of that cellar," she squeezed Wentworth's hand tighter, recalling the moment she first saw him hold his hand out to her. "You explained everything to me."
"That has always been the worst part of my job," Wentworth let go of her hand and passed her a handkerchief. "And it happens far too often."
"I prayed to the Maker for my own survival, but I didn't bother to think about anyone else," she dabbed her aching eyes with the handkerchief.
"We must be remembering things differently then. The templars were going to take you to the orphanage, but you wouldn't have it. You demanded that we take you with us. The moment you realized what happened, you knew this was the path for you," he chuckled. "I've seen captains with less fire than you had. There was no doubt about it: you were going to be a templar."
A snort escaped Meredith's nose. "I was a bit of a brat."
"No, you were dedicated and courageous. And do you remember what I said to you?"
Meredith's lips twitched into a smile. "'You will be a templar'."
Wentworth smiled back at her, the ends of his graying mustache curling up. "You were never one to take the easy path. After experiencing one of the worst moments a child could ever witness, you didn't want to run. You wanted to follow the path the Maker sent you on."
Meredith shrugged. "Anyone would have done the same."
"Not true. I know templar knights who are too frightened to go up against an abomination. You were a child when you saw the destruction they caused and you still knew this was the right thing to do."
She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.
"No child should have to go through what I did. I want to make sure it never happens again."
"I know there isn't a lot I can do about the nightmares. But don't stray from your path. When doubts plague your mind, remember your cause. Your impressive combat skills may make you a good soldier, but it's your devotion that will make you a good templar."
Meredith stared down at her trembling hands.
"Amelia wasn't a bad girl," Meredith had to struggle to keep her voice level. "She didn't like using her magic. She didn't want it."
"A lot of mages aren't bad people by nature," Wentworth sighed. "But sometimes they are pushed to do bad things."
"But why did the Maker curse her?!"
The words exploded out of Meredith before she had the time to think about them. What used to only exist as an abstract idea in the back of Meredith's mind was now out in the open. Meredith sat back with wide eyes, waiting for the Knight-Captain to get angry with her.
Instead, he sighed and took her hand again.
"We can't always know the Maker's ways."
"I'm sorry, I…"
"There's nothing for you to be sorry about, my dear. With everything we templars are forced to face, sometimes we end up questioning our faith," he met her eyes. "If this starts happening with you, remember those families you are fighting for. Never forget why you became a templar."
Meredith bit her lip and nodded, pushing herself out of her seat.
"Thank you for your guidance, Ser Wentworth."
"It's the Maker who guides you, Meredith," Wentworth smiled, returning to his paperwork. "But I'm happy to assist in any way I can."
Meredith left Wentworth's office and went back to the barracks. She collapsed back down onto her cot and stared at the chantry symbol above the door until her eyes felt heavy. Then she fell into a peaceful dreamless sleep.
Meredith's eyes were still blurred from exhaustion. She was told that insomnia came with the job, but she knew she was in no shape whatsoever to face down an abomination. Still, she continued her duty patrolling the halls as usual. When she was working, she didn't have to think about the nightmares. She didn't have to dwell over how helpless she felt.
Something caught her eye when she reached the end of the hallway; a sealed envelope discarded on the floor. Meredith frowned and knelt down to pick it up.
The edges of the eggshell white envelope were slightly scuffed-up from the feet walking over it all day, but overall it still seemed to be in decent shape. The signet ring used to seal the envelope was adorned with the symbol of the Circle, so it was likely that this was a letter from a mage. The rest of the letters were sent out a week ago. This one must have been lost in the shuffle.
She continued to turn the envelope around in her hands. A letter home, most likely. Still, Meredith couldn't help but feel curious. Curious, or suspicious.
The mail room was just down the next flight of stairs, but that's not where Meredith went. Instead she took a sharp turn down the corner leading back to the barracks.
After the wooden door swung shut, Meredith tossed the letter onto her bedside table.
Looking over her shoulder, Meredith approached the envelope while reaching for the small knife she kept strapped to her belt. With bated breaths and careful hands, she slowly slid the sharp blade between the scarlet wax seal and the paper. She pulled away and the envelope fell open, the circular pink stain on the paper providing the only evidence that the seal was once there.
The knife was put away and Meredith reached inside the envelope, fishing out the letter-which had to be at least five pages in length. Each page was covered with orderly but dense handwriting. Meredith squinted her eyes and scanned the writing for anything that looked suspicious. Of course she knew that she would have to be thorough. It wasn't like a mage who was planning on acting against the Circle would say it so plainly. So Meredith sat down on her cot and began reading the letter line by line.
The first part of the letter detailed the mage's life in the Circle, but most of it wasn't that different from the usual complaints she overheard from apprentices. However, it didn't seem like the mage was making any real effort to escape. She did learn that the mage had a friend named Orsino who was purposely underperforming in his classes to avoid the notice of the Templars. Meredith found herself sharing the mage's frustration with him, but she didn't think the matter was worth notifying the templars about.
The details of the mage's life before the Circle came out more as the letter went on. She learned that her dog, Rosie, got sick. Meredith's chest tightened until she read further and found out Rosie got better. She learned that the mage had an older sister who would be getting married in the spring, but the mage would never be able to attend. She learned that the mage still longed for their mother's excellent baking.
Meredith was lying on her cot, pages of the letter strewn around her. The further she went, the less she was reading the actual letter that was in front of her. Instead her mind was back home, imagining herself patiently waiting for Amelia's letter from the Circle to arrive.
When the letter would finally come, Meredith and her parents would crowd around the fireplace to read it. Amelia was always a timid and fragile girl so her family knew the Circle would be hard on her. Meredith imagined the relief and absolute joy that would wash through the Stannard household when they received the letter informing them that Amelia passed her Harrowing.
Meredith was shocked back into reality when a single tear fell from her eye and onto the page below. She started to panic, but then she noticed there were already other similar tear stains on the paper. When she finally reached the end of the letter, her watery eyes struggled to focus on the signature.
"With love, Maud"
She stared up at the ceiling, letting the last page slip from her fingers and onto the hard stone floor.
At least the mage had a family she could write to.
Meredith sat up, gathering the pages together. As she re-folded the papers carefully along the creases, she couldn't help but picture the fear Maud's family must have felt when her letters never reached them. Meredith was fairly sure she would have stormed the Gallows herself if she didn't receive confirmation that Amelia was safe.
The letter was slipped back into the envelope which was soon resealed to the best of Meredith's ability.
Her only motivation was to inspect the mage's letter to make sure she wasn't plotting against the circle. It was a simple plan. But as Meredith trudged to the mail room, she couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in her chest and the feeling of nausea in her gut.
Probably from the lyrium.
The longer the day went on, the more Orsino's classes felt like a blur. He didn't even think about the ideas he scribbled down as he tried to keep up with the enchanter's lecture. Often times he would read over his notes the next day and have no memory of writing any of it.
Orsino glanced over at Maud who was seated on the floor beside him. She wasn't writing. Her parchment was blank. The pen in her hand slowly wove in and out between her fingers as she stared out the window. She was completely lost.
Whatever Enchanter Ines was saying turned into background noise as Orsino gently nudged her with his elbow. Maud jolted up as if he zapped her with lightning. She looked back at him. Her eyes had a dazed appearance to them, almost like those of the tranquil. But the rest of her face looked grim and tired. She smiled as if to reassure him that she was fine, but it was obviously forced. Orsino knew what Maud's smile looked like. That wasn't it.
The class ended. Orsino's knees ached from sitting on the floor for so long. Just when he was about to talk to Maud, the enchanter stopped them.
"Maud," her voice was stern, but there was still a softness to it which was often missing when the templars spoke. "I need to have a word with you."
Orsino froze. It was difficult for him even to process all of the panicked thoughts that raced through his mind.
Maud looked at him. This time, she didn't bother to force a smile. The worry on her face was clear as day.
Having to walk out of that classroom alone was the most difficult thing he ever had to do. It was difficult to know just how much trouble Maud was in. The weeks after she received her letters from home were always hard on her, but Orsino noticed her studies were slipping more and more. If he could just find some way to help her…
"Where's your bodyguard?"
Orsino stopped walking the second the templar's voice interrupted his thoughts.
Soon enough, he was surrounded by a small group of templars. Orsino kept his head down so he never knew how many there actually were, but there had to be at least three or four. Looking them in the eye would just be taken as a sign of aggression, so he never attempted to check.
He heard one of the templars laugh. Before he knew it, a strong hand was shoving him against the cold stone wall. What had to seem like a playful push to the templar caused a sharp pain to erupt up the mage's back. Still, he kept his gaze lowered. It would be over faster that way.
"This one actually tried to hide behind Meredith," the templar's hand was still digging into his shoulder. Orsino didn't bother to resist.
The other templars laughed in response.
"Maker that's pathetic."
"You should have been there!" The grip on his shoulder tightened. "Almost didn't notice him. Until we saw those ears of his poking out behind her."
Rage began to simmer in Orsino's chest, but he pushed it back down. There was no point in resisting. It would only cause a scene.
"Does he speak?"
"I don't know," the hand started to shake him. "Come on, mage. Can you speak?"
Orsino finally brought himself to meet the templar's gaze. The templar was too close to his face. He couldn't look away. The templar's face wasn't particularly cruel. Dark hair, sleepless eyes, uneven stubble. He looked like any other young man, except he had the power to ruin Orsino's life.
"I...I can speak, Ser," he finally managed to stammer out.
"Looks like we got a prodigy on our hands." The templar shook him again before finally releasing his grasp. "What else can you do, mage?"
"Come on, Sven," one of the other templars chuckled. "You know the commander's gonna kill us if we're late again."
Orsino wanted to feel grateful, but it was clear that the templar didn't really care for his well being. This was all just a game to them.
The templar who was holding Orsino stepped backwards, then lurched forward to strike him. The hit never came. Instead he laughed when Orsino instinctively covered his face with his arms and sank down to the ground to defend himself.
"Stay out of trouble, mage," the templar grinned as if he was saying goodbye to an old friend. As if Orsino wasn't terrified for his life.
Orsino couldn't do anything other than nod as he struggled to stand up straight. The templars were much more merciful than they could have been, but he was still shaken. Some of the other apprentices passing by gave him concerned looks. He quietly reassured them that he was fine before hurrying to the library.
The table near the window was taken by another group of mages, but Orsino managed to grab one nearby. He sat down, positioning his chair so it faced the library entrance, and waited. His book never opened. He didn't move. He didn't allow himself to relax until he finally saw Maud walking towards him.
Before Orsino had a chance to ask her if she was okay, her eyes widened.
"Did the templars bother you again?"
Orsino noticed that his robe was askew from when the templar grabbed him. He shrugged and smoothed out his sleeves.
"It wasn't as bad. But what about you? Is everything okay?"
Maud let out a shaky breath, "Enchanter Ines said I haven't been doing well in my classes."
A chill ran up Orsino's spine, but he found a way to keep his voice calm.
"Is there something specific that's challenging you? I can help you study if you need it."
Maud shook her head.
"It's not that. It's just…" she sighed. "I've just been tired lately."
"Are you sure?" his fingers fidgeted against the leather cover of the tome. "If you need help, I'm here for you."
"I know, Orsino," Maud pushed her hair out of her face and smiled at him. This time it didn't look forced. "Thank you."
Orsino opened the book to begin studying. He waited for Maud to do the same, but it never happened. Her book remained closed. Her dark eyes were glazed over as she stared down at the table.
He pushed his book to the side.
"Maud…"
She shook her head, "It's nothing. I don't want you to worry about me."
"Too late."
Maud looked over her shoulder for a moment before meeting Orsino's eyes again.
"I feel like running away."
Orsino gasped and ducked his head down as if she had admitted to practicing blood magic.
"You shouldn't say things like that," he lowered his voice to a raspy whisper. "What if the templars hear you?"
"I'm not going to actually do it. There's no point," Maud pressed the side of her face against the old wooden table, her eyes drifting off into nothingness again. "But wouldn't you want to live some place where people don't automatically look down on you? Don't you get sick of people thinking they can do whatever they want to you because they know you can't do anything about it?"
"I'm an elf, so that's going to be my reality no matter where I live."
"But outside the tower, I can fight anyone who tries to mess with you."
Orsino let out a small laugh, "And out yourself as an apostate in the process?"
"You don't need magic to punch someone in the face."
They smiled at each other and for a split second, the worries weighing down Orsino's mind were lifted.
"I would love to show you my home," Maud's finger lazily traced over the patterns engraved onto the cover of the book. "My real home. Not here."
There was a part of Orsino's mind that knew talking about Maud's family with her would only make things worse, but she always looked so happy when the subject came up.
"Do you think your family would like me?"
"I talk about you so much in my letters, you're practically part of the family by now," her eyes swept over his thin frame. "Although, my mother will force you to eat the second she sees you."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Do you really remember nothing about your family?" Maud's voice softened. "I told you so many things about mine. I want to know more about yours."
A weary sigh escaped Orsino's chest. They had this conversation multiple times. It was true that he hardly remembered anything about his life before the Circle, but also he tried his hardest to not remember. Being locked in the Gallows was easier when he believed there was nothing else out there for him.
"No," he looked away from her for a moment. "There was nothing worth remembering."
"That's not true," Maud reached her hands out towards his. "That's your home. That's who you are."
"So who I am now is defined by who I was when I was five?" Orsino patted her hand and smiled. "Good to know."
Maud huffed, "You know what I mean."
Any response Orsino had was interrupted by the sound of someone loudly clearing her throat. Maud and Orsino snatched their hands away and sat up straight in their chairs. Orsino felt his blood run cold when he saw Meredith standing in front of their table. It was hard to tell how long she was standing there. He didn't hear her approach.
"Ser Meredith," Orsino's voice was barely detectable. All he could do was internally pray to the Maker and whoever else was listening that she wasn't there to hear the entire conversation.
Meredith barely acknowledged Orsino and instead turned her attention towards Maud.
"The letter you wrote," Meredith's voice still made Orsino want to run and hide, but there was something different about it. Something more...fragile. "I found it on the floor. It was dropped on its way to the mail room."
Maud nodded, her eyes wide and her hands vibrating against the table.
"Oh..."
Meredith was quiet for an awfully long time. Each second of silence suffocated Orsino more and more. At least the templars in the hall were straightforward. There was no way to get an accurate read on Meredith.
"I wish to discuss the content," Meredith spoke slowly, as if she was taking extra time to carefully piece each word together. "Of your letter, that is."
Maud stopped shaking.
"You read my letter?"
Meredith shifted in her heavy plate mail. It was strange to see a templar look so uncomfortable, especially when speaking to an apprentice.
"I simply wanted to examine it for any signs of corruption."
"And did you find any?" Maud's voice was trembling. But Orsino knew her well enough to know that it wasn't from fear. It was rage.
Meredith looked down at the floor and shook her head.
"No."
"Then what is there to discuss?" Maud stood up, her volume rising just enough to still be library-appropriate. "Letters are one of the few freedoms we mages still have, and you're going to confront me on that too?"
"I am so sorry for her behavior, Ser," Orsino tried to push Maud back down from across the table. "She's exhausted from studying so hard. She doesn't know what she's talking about."
"I know what I'm talking about, Orsino," Maud swiped his hand away. "I did nothing wrong, but the templars are treating me like I'm a criminal anyway!"
Meredith's icy blue eyes narrowed at her. Orsino was clawing at the cover of the book as his heart raced. Once again, the silence from Meredith felt like an eternity.
"I delivered your letter for you." Meredith spoke at last, but her voice was much quieter. "You're welcome, by the way."
Maud sank back into her seat in disbelief as Meredith left the library. The fire that was once within her was extinguished and replaced with cold fear.
It took a few minutes for Orsino to regain control of his breathing.
"What were you thinking?" Orsino whispered through his teeth. "You can't talk to a templar like that."
"I don't know," Maud buried her face in her hands. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
"All we can do is hope she won't go to her superiors about this."
"Why wouldn't she?" Maud's voice broke. "What if we lose mail privileges because of me?"
"They wouldn't do that," Orsino reached across the table to rest a hand on her trembling shoulder.
"If the templars wanted to, there would be no way to stop them," her words were still laced with fear, but she seemed to relax momentarily under his touch. "We mages have no one to speak for us."
"What about the First Enchanter?"
Maud gave Orsino a look. Even he knew what he said was nonsense.
"First Enchanter Maceron, really?" she huffed. "Have you ever seen him? I don't think he even exists. What if the templars keep a giant wooden puppet in his office?"
"Well, thank you for letting me know what my nightmares are going to be about for the next week."
"I just think that the First Enchanter should be someone who can speak for the mages," Maud looked away, sagging her shoulders. "Someone who can make us feel less alone."
"Maybe you should do it."
Maud snorted.
"Me? You really think someone like me could become the First Enchanter?"
"Why not?" Orsino managed to keep his tone supportive, but in the back of his mind he was laughing at the thought of his mousy childhood friend becoming leader of the Kirkwall Circle. "You have a vision for the mages here."
"Maybe you should do it instead," Maud smirked at him. "You're better at getting through those boring magic books."
"True, but I deal with enough templars already. I can't imagine having to work with them on a daily basis."
"But the idea of being on equal footing with the templars does sound nice. Who knows. Maybe I could do it."
Orsino leaned forward, resting his head against the palm of his hand.
"You know…" he grinned at her. "If you want to become the First Enchanter, you're going to have to study."
Maud crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at his head.
