Broken Circle
Elly stared through the transparent walls of the magic cage at the tormented prisoner trapped within. Though her face had flushed a hot red when he'd described his visions, visions of her, the color was swiftly draining from her face as he continued to call for the death of all the mages above. It left her feeling light-headed, and she struggled to focus. Tentatively, she laid a hand on the wall, as if she could reach through and touch him. "Please, Cullen, don't ask me to do this."
The templar gave a disgusted sigh and turned away from her. She hadn't thought something could rattle her more than the frantic ranting she'd just heard. She'd been considerably wrong.
She tried to argue that she shouldn't make such a decision without first observing the situation. When she added that she just couldn't condemn innocent people to death, Shale and Sten had converged on her, radiating disapproval.
The golem didn't have much in the way of facial expressions, but her tone was full of reproach. "Has it considered the fact that ridding the world of these mages might be of benefit? The templars will still help with its war. Why make things difficult?"
The qunari's face was almost as impassive as the golem's. His words were less heated, but his tone brooked no dissent. He nodded toward the caged templar. "What he says makes sense. Do not discard it out of hand… these mages are out of control."
"But, I'm a mage," she protested.
Sten was unmoved. "The responsibility of what you are should then be even clearer. Act before the danger spreads."
"That's… it's not my duty, Sten. Greagoir and Irving – if he still lives – can make that decision."
"A coward's choice," the qunari declared. Shale rumbled her agreement.
Elly, tilting her head back to regard the intimidating figures before her, couldn't avoid cringing a little. Could they be right? It seemed far more likely that it was she who was wrong, if they were all in agreement. She was a mage herself; perhaps she didn't have enough distance to make a decision...
As she wavered uncertainly under their pressure, she caught sight of Wynne's worried face. Not all here thought the mages should die. Elly considered the grandmotherly woman, though Wynne kept looking impatiently at the stairs up to the Harrowing Chamber. Obviously mages could be dangerous, but Wynne was proof that they could be admirable too. The woman's courage, strength of will, and dedication could not be denied. Elly thought she'd much rather be like Wynne than like Sten or Shale. The circle was her home and it was worth preserving.
Cullen's desperation made her feel like breaking down, but she couldn't do that, not here. So she did something very rare for her and gave her anger free reign instead. "NO!" she broke the silence, startling her companions and even herself with her volume. "You cannot ask me to slaughter my... my family simply because you aren't sure whether or not they might be maleficarum."
Grabbing the skirt of her robe so she could spin around unhampered, Elly stalked toward the stairs, leaving her stunned companions to scramble after her. She felt a bit stunned herself; she hadn't realized how she really felt about the Circle. As they worked their way up the final flight, she took the time to bottle up her emotions, sealing them tight. It wouldn't hold for long, but she only needed it to last until she could shut herself away in her tent, alone.