"First Enchanter?" Cecilia asked, uncertain of whether of not she was interrupting something.

Irving and Greagoir had been arguing about the number of troops sent to Ostagar in response to the king's call for aid against the darkspawn. It seemed an unlikely situation to her; another Blight when the creatures were said to have been wiped out centuries ago during the last archdemon's reign. But she knew there was a world out there, a world that existed beyond the Tower but before the Fade: Ferelden. She was from this place, though Cecilia had little memories of it. Maybe the books were wrong and the tainted dragon had indeed risen again. If that were the case, then they would certainly need all the mages they could get.

"Gentlemen, please..." Another, calm and unfamiliar voice broke through the quarreling. "First Enchanter, I believe there is someone here for you."

"This isn't over." the Knight-Commander growled, then Cecilia heard his armored boots clank against the floor and the 'whoosh' of his skirt, or battle dress, or what it is the templars called, as he left the room.

"You summoned me?" she prompted.

"Yes. There is someone I would like for you to meet, child." Irving replied. "This is Duncan, leader of the Ferelden Grey Wardens."

There was that word again that was supposed to mean something to her. It didn't. What caught Cecilia's attention was the mention of Grey Wardens. So it was true then: the darkspawn had returned. The thought alone was enough to turn the blood in her veins to ice.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you." the deep voiced Warden said. "Irving has had nothing but great things to say about you."

"Thank you, ser."

Irving congratulated her on passing the Harrowing, and gave her a new set of robes, a staff, and a ring. Cecilia agreed to show Duncan to his room, though it was more like she was simply walking with him since she wasn't exactly in a position to be leading anyone anywhere. Still, he seemed grateful for the company. Perhaps the life of a Grey Warden was lonely sometimes. Never being able to have a family of your own, being unappreciated by those who had forgotten the ancient order's sacrifices, always having to remain neutral even on matters which one could not be blamed for having an opinion on. But what would she know of such things anyway?

"Cecilia!"

She heard someone hiss her name. No, not just someone, it was Jowan.

"Yes?"

"Do you remember what we talked about this morning?" he asked in a whisper.

The other mage frowned. "Of course I do..." There was something he wasn't telling her. "Why are you whispering? It looks very suspicious, you know."

"Shhh! Look, it's not safe to talk here. Come with me, okay? I'll explain everything, I swear."

"Jowan," she said very seriously. "You're scaring me."

"I'm sorry, CeCe, but you're just going to have to trust me."

He took her by the arm and they walked for a short distance in silence. She knew the layout of the Tower well, which meant this must be the chapel. Not the best place to go for privacy since templars frequented it several times a day for prayer and meditation. And she could tell from the extra aura in the room that they were not alone. There was someone else; a non-mage with an extraordinarily bright pink energy about her.

"You know how I told you that I...met a girl?" Jowan sounded nervous, uncertain of how she would react. Cecilia nodded. "Well, this is Lily."

"She's not a mage, is she?"

"No; Lily is an initiate, a sister of the Chantry. She's already taken her vows. Lily's not supposed to have...relations with men, especially mages." Jowan sighed. "But I love her, CeCe. You know what I mean, don't you?"

"Yes, Jowan, I know what love is."

But her best friend's forbidden romantic affairs were not the only news. Rumors had suggested he was a blood mage. It wasn't true, he insisted, though it certainly would not have been the stupidest thing he'd ever done. Still, they were going to make him Tranquil, stripping him of all emotions and leaving an empty shell to do the Circle's bidding without question. It was why he hadn't been called for his Harrowing yet, as full-fledged mages like herself were not permitted to take the Rite of Tranquility unless they requested to do so. Many an outspoken mage had escaped with their mind intact because of this loop-hole, like Anders the Spirit Healer.

There was only one way out. And that was to literally get out. However, escape was pointless if the templars still had your phylactory, the vile of blood taken from every mage who passes through the Circle's massive doors. Without it, tracking them down could became virtually impossible.

The plan that Jowan and Lily had devised to locate and destroy his phylactery was rather simple. They were never questioned by anyone, and despite a few minor setbacks, everything went perfectly. In time, they reached the freezing room in the Tower's basement. There it was, he said, so fragile...all that stood in the way of him and freedom. And with a shattering of glass and a heart-fluttering sensation of an old spell broken, it was over.

But as it so happened, it was not the only thing that stood in their way.

"I swear, this isn't what it looks like." Cecilia insisted, knowing it wouldn't be convincing. After all, it most certainly was what it appeared to be.

"And just how exactly would you know what this looks like, Amell?" Greagoir taunted. Oh, that was a cheap shot. She wanted to make a point of telling him so but the First Enchanter spoke first.

"Now, Greagoir, I'll handle this." he said. "I am very disappointed in you, Cecilia. You could have told me what you knew, but you didn't."

"He is my friend."

"No, First Enchanter, you've been taking responsibility for this one's recklessness for too long. I will see to it that she, the blood mage, and his accomplice pay for what they have done."

And then Jowan was shouting, a boldness in him that she had never seen before, his words like poisoned blades. She thought she heard a blade...and next thing she knew Cecilia was lying on the floor covered in blood, her best friend's own blood, and he was gone.

Blood magic.

"He lied to me..." she whispered to no one, her unseeing eyes focused on the ceiling.

She and Lily would probably die for this, his mistake, didn't he care? Was there nothing left in him but the desire to be free and survive? What was the use of salvaging his emotions if he just ran away from those he cared about like that?

A steady hand helped Cecilia to her feet. It didn't feel like Irving's hand, and it obviously wasn't one of the templars...so who...?

"Are you all right?"

She knew that voice: it was the Grey Warden from before.

"I..." For some reason she couldn't think of what to say to that. "Yes, ser. Thank you."

Both she and Lily with The Pink Aura were in shock, and all they could do was listen while their fates were decided for them. And at this point, they'd be lucky to still be alive by sundown tomorrow. The Grey Warden, Duncan, wanted Cecilia to join his order. She couldn't possibly fathom why. How could a blind mage be of any use against a horde of darkspawn?

Not that it mattered, since Greagoir would have none of it. Yep, he was gong to put an end to her insignificant existence, snuffing out her own little shining blotch of light from the face of the Veil as easily as one would a candle's flame, and send her spirit soaring back into the deepest, darkest, region of the Fade...

Then she would rest. There wouldn't be anything much to see anyway.

"It is a rare person who would risk everything to help a friend, Knight-Commander." Duncan continued his attempt at persuading the other man, "There are worst things that plague this world than blood mages. You know that. Let me take this mage off your hands, and I promise to be held responsible for her actions whilst she is with me."

Greagoir sighed. "Fine, have it your way. The less troublemakers I have to deal with, the better. And I guess if you can find some use for her, then so be it."

Cecilia would only have time to gather her things before they had to leave. The sooner she and Duncan reached Ostagar, the sooner she could take the 'Joining' and become a Grey Warden herself. The darkspawn didn't wait forever. In light of all that had happened, she and Petra shared one last farewell embrace before they parted ways for what very well could be forever. The thought hurt more than it should. Petra could do a lot better than her anyway. Maybe this was for the best.

Cecilia's new life was waiting, as was the land she was to call home but would never see, and a war she was to fight in against an ancient foe thought only to exist in legends with powerful griffins who cast down the mighty tainted dragons back into the deepest, darkest, depths of the Fade...

She had no choice but to look upon the world like a newborn babe yet to open its eyes.