Greggory's life gonna be divided in some parts here,

Gonna be some gaps, but don't worry, there's always next chap to piece them all together.

Oh and also, in the next chapter we're going to be entering DA:I

I hope you will enjoy, lovelies!


"Spirit!"

The man in the brown robe called out, he was disregarding the Circle's every warning about the danger in venturing the fade so brazenly.

He looked up to the peculiar spirit, who was sitting up on a big tree, or the fade's version of a tree. The spirit stopped writing on the parchment in its claws, it didn't expect a visitor.

The mage gulped, when that terrifying mask glared down at him. He hoped that he wouldn't regret putting so much faith into stories. He didn't want this to backfire, especially with the cost of his Harrowing and life.

The Mage watched in awe as the spirit controlled the tree to take it down with much grace. He took a step back while the spirit towered over him, the antlers on its mask only made it looked bigger.

The descriptions from the stories had matched the spirit perfectly, so he was feeling a bit bold. They spoke of a spirit that resembled a warrior, wearing a mask from a much primal times. It had aided many apprentices in completing their Harrowing. Even some senior mages confirmed its mysterious existence.

However, the mage didn't need its help or intended to find it here. It was a coincidence, he thought. He didn't expect the path to take him to it, instead of the demon he should be facing.

"Your courage will endanger you, mortal.", the spirit said, its voice met the mage's expectation, haunting and truly intimidating.

He was both fascinated and nervous, yet also optimistic, "Courage will bring remarkable findings too, spirit.", he countered.

The spirit sounded like he was smirking behind that mask, "Then tell me, what is it do you seek from me, mortal?"

The mage studied the spirit, it sounded neutral and unreadable so far, but he hadn't abandoned the possibility that it could turn demonic on him. He would be foolish not to. He was aware that he was playing a dangerous game.

"Wisdom, nothing more, spirit. I have heard that you like to help my fellow mages? Or am I mistaken?" He couldn't be less subtle about his blatant motives to study the spirit. Obviously, the timing was bad, but he couldn't waste the chance, not when the spirit was right in front of him.

The Mage had always been interested in the subject and loved to discover new information about the fade and its denizens.

"Yes." The spirit said, then hunched down a little. Its mask was coming closer to the mage's face. He was surprised and definitely scared beyond belief, but he held his ground and stared back at those glowing eyes.

"You have a strong connection with this realm, mage. A trait you are born with, I see. Be mindful of it." It said and eased his invasion of the mage's private space.

The spirit's words was puzzling and added more questions for him. He hoped the spirit would clarify, but alas, like any other dwellers of the realm, it loved its riddles.

"You help because they have a strong connection to the fade?" he guessed, but that just sounded silly.

"You have a task to concentrate on, mage. And it's obvious you do not need my wisdom to overcome it." The spirit simply said before turning around to go back to its tree.

"Stick close to your good will. Do not let their whispers corrupt it like they did with those who lusted for power."

Then, the mage felt his suspicions in the spirit ebbed away and was replaced by a sudden strength, the spirit's gift to aid him, the mage suspected.

Never in his life had he met such a curious spirit like it, "It's Rhys. And thanks for the advice."

He could faintly saw the small nod from the spirit before the tree parted them. He got a good feeling about it. It had a kind nature, even though its rough exterior hinted otherwise. Rhys was inspired and excited over the mysteries in the ever-changing realm.

He felt impatient to be done with his Harrowing, so he could go back to the library and gathered more references about the spirit.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"I see we are joined by some new faces today. So, let me tell you this, the Harrowing is the most important part of your duties!"

The young teen blinked after the Knight Commander's words had pulled him back to the present. Greggory scolded himself for letting his mind got distracted. He should focus on the Harrowing and not on that dream. But, how could it not bother him, when he shouldn't be having dreams in the first place.

Greggory Cohen was a newly appointed Templar to the order, here to observe his first Harrowing, along with the other new Templars. But, unbeknown to the world, he was not entirely human.

It might be hard to believe that the young man, who had surpassed many of the people's expectations, was not human. It had nothing to do with his background or lineage, although he wished it were that simple.

The truth of the matter was that he was also a spirit. Once, he was a warrior from another time, then he was a spirit in the fade, and finally he received a chance to have a new life. It was a chance that was forced upon him.

He received a physical body to grew up with, and retained his life beyond the Veil whenever his body slumbered. He knew his spirit side hadn't abandoned him, even after he got this new life, but he didn't predict to return to the fade in such a way.

In the fade, being a spirit felt different than before, something was missing. His influence over the realm wasn't as strong as he remembered, and he no longer had the control over his stay there. As soon as his mortal vessel woke up, he was forced to return as Greggory Cohen.

Indeed, it was complicated. He gave up on finding any answers years ago.

Still, that dream had caught him off guard.

It was short, but enough to agitate him throughout the night.

It felt like he was truly there. He was back in his old days as a the hunter to the clan. He remembered that he was hunting alone in the wilderness, when suddenly, the trees around him started to close in on him, surrounded him in a small circle. He tried to free himself, while carvings in elvish started to appear on the trees.

"Save us." It said repeatedly until there was no space left on those dying lumber.

The next thing he knew, the trees had cracked and then burst into flames. He woke up after the fire had reached out to swallow him.

It was such a weird dream, Greggory didn't know what to make of it. This was his second dream, since he stepped into this mortal life back in Ferelden. Both of them were equally unpleasant.

With some uncertainty, he could only blamed himself for becoming more human as the cause for that dream. It was the only answer he could think of at the moment.

"Why can't it be a meadow of wildflowers for once?"

His troubled thoughts were cut short by the Knight Commander's booming speech. "Many have underestimated this test. You might belittle those apprentices, nothing you couldn't handle before. That is where you are wrong. That is how you bring death to us all. Behind that door, are people who do not understand the true danger of the power within their fingertips. They will say 'harmless' and 'under control', but know this, Templars, I have seen the best of them fell into the temptation. You cannot imagine the destruction they have caused in a matter of seconds. No, you can't." The Commander stopped there and glared at the recruits. He was satisfied to see some of them squirmed.

"Remember this well, Templars. As soon as they switch sides, friends and families, none of those mean anything to the demons. And we are here to prevent that, because we are their guardians, their watchers. We are to guide and to prevent them from causing harm to themselves and others." Ser Knight Commander Eron said and successfully made the whole place even more intense.

Some of the seniors tried to hide their amusement over the sight of the poor rookies. They joked that the Commander's grim speech was a bit nostalgic. They eased their snickerings, when one of them cleared her throat, signaling them to shut up and to show some respect.

"In the Harrowing, these apprentices will embark on their test of self control over that temptation. All of them were selected for their good performances in their apprentice's years. Does that mean we can let ourselves relax? Absolutely not. As long as magic is in their veins, they will never escape those demons. Anticipate the worse and do not falter in your strike, Templars. Show them no mercy, for those demons will not show us any."

Greggory knew too well, that the mages would never be free from his kind. Many of them had worked just as hard and sacrificed plenty to fight off those demons. They remained strong in spite of the fear that the other mages had created. Sadly, the fear and hatred proved to be too much for some of them in the end.

"Being buddy-buddy with them didn't look too good now, eh golden boy? Don't worry, I'll let you have the honor to make the first strike." Greggory heard the Templar beside him said that.

Septom was never shy to speak up his mind. And clearly, the older Templar disliked him, but not for the usual reasons, such as his age that seemed to annoy some people. It was because of how much he tolerated the mages.

"I appreciate your concerns, brother. I hope our friends will pass the Harrowing. I believe they will give it their best." He lightly said, but Septom didn't take it wholeheartedly. He loathed the idea to have anything pleasant with the mages.

"Those demons are not my friends. Never." He snapped and looked at the teen, challenging him to repeat his words. Greggory felt the piercing hate from his aura, without the need to look at him. He was not interested in starting anything with the older Templar, especially in the middle of the Harrowing.

"My mistake then." Greggory shrugged.

Septom didn't like how casually he disregard him. He wanted to clear things up with the teen, but refrained himself when the seniors looked to their way.

The teen didn't take his harsh words to the heart. He sympathized with him, it wasn't his real intention to hurt him. Septom was trying to make him realize of how dangerous the mages were. That Greg was putting himself in harm's way for being too friendly with them. He could sense it in his aura, he wanted to protect, in his own strange ways.

There were other people, who had similar opinions as Septom, and he could understand why. He had lived in a world, where magic ruled. He had witnessed the true potential of magic and the evil that came with it. It distraught him, that some of its evil persisted to this new age.

He knew that magic would always be a part of this world, that could never change. It might not be as whole as it used to because of the Veil.

Like a huge wall that separated the two realms, separating magic to its other half. But, that wall couldn't keep them apart forever. Time and a curious mage were all it needed to destroy that boundaries, and brought back the old glory days, that should stay lost forever.

And there were attempts, many failures and one success.

That success led to a subtle shift in the fade, followed by the increasing fear, despair, sorrow and other worse things in every mortal's dreams. Many spirits were corrupted by the strength of the new emotions. Even good spirits turned obsessed and greedy over the things they used to protect the dreamers from. He had lost many of his spirit friends when it happened.

It was after he gained this new life, that he discovered the Blight. The stories and the scars it created to the world had turned magic into a tool of chaos and death.

Greggory didn't like the stories, they spoke of whispers from the Old Gods, who returned the knowledge of magic back to this world. The same ones, that made a group of magisters to accidently created the Blight. The possible identities of the Old Gods brought displeasure to him.

He wanted this new world to rise above its predecessor, not be devoured again by the same mistakes. That was why he joined the Templar order. The closest place he could get to magic. He was hopeful to spent his new life in keeping the peace.

He admitted, that his connection with the Chevaliers had made the order to overlook his young age, especially when he underwent his vigil and took his vows. It was unlike Gaspard to pass up the chance to show his support for the teen in the public eyes. Everyone knew that he was the Duke's favorite, hence the "Golden boy" nickname he got after.

"Follow your orders and remember your training. Now. Let us pray before we begin." At Ser Knight Commander Eron's words, all of them bowed their heads. Then, the Commander led the prayer.

Greggory could feel the mix of emotions from those around him, fear, bravado, confidence, anxiety and many else. His spirit side was not as powerful as it used to. It continued to weaken as time progressed, and the more human he was.

Maybe, there would be a time, where he would have to say his farewell to the fade. Surprisingly, he wasn't fully against it now.

When Eron ended the prayer, he commanded one of the seniors to summon the first apprentice. Greggory adjusted his weapon, when the more seasoned Templar opened the door, welcoming First Enchanter Edmonde and the apprentice.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The soothing song slowly faded, after the ritual was completed.

The young teen would never get tired of the Lyrium. Back in the fade, the lyrium wouldn't even whispered the slightest hum. Only after his vigil, that he was introduced to its lovely melody.

He discovered that using it made the connection between his spirit and the fade stronger, thus he had to pretend that he possessed the Templar's abilities at some occasions.

Although, using too much or too often made him feel uncomfortable. He didn't dare to try and to see what happened if he drowned himself in Lyrium, he wasn't that suicidal, not anymore.

When the lyrium faded completely, he felt glad that another apprentice had passed the test. He quirked a smile under his steel visor as the apprentice, now a full mage, was carried out of the chamber. It didn't take her long, as expected from a star student.

So far, five apprentices had come and gone without the need of the Templar's intervention. There were some false alarms, but no demons.

The atmosphere around his fellow brothers had brighten, because of the lack of action. Some even joked that the Commander was trying to scare them with his speech.

Greggory forgave their inexperience, none of them had ever seen how ferocious the spirits could be. He welcomed the optimism, but still reminded them to stay vigilant.

Sadly, his sage advice was finally neglected, when the last apprentice entered the room. Seeing the same pattern, all of them predicted the apprentice's success.

Greg was about to ask them to be serious, before he noticed that the apprentice was looking at him. She gave him a smile, while she approached the pedestal. Her gaze finally left him, when the First Enchanter gave his guidance to her.

Her show of familiarity was unforeseen to Greg. They were not close to begin with. In fact, their first meeting wasn't exactly a pleasant conversation starter. He grimly remembered that night, when he caught the Templar, who was beating her. He defended the apprentice and scared off that Templar. It seemed that the apprentice held onto that memory.

She was not the only one to receive thoughtless violence for having magic. Greg was opposed to it, the Templars supposed to be their guardians. And there was no justice to punish every living being that had magical abilities, that's just ridiculous.

Greg sighed, magic had brought so much fear, that many didn't see them as people anymore, just a time bomb ready to explode. No one deserved to live like that.

First Enchanter Edmonde gave her one last advice, before her mind entered the fade.

The hope for another success quickly changed, when the apprentice took her time in the fade, the longest for today's Harrowing. Deciding that they had waited long enough, Commander Eron announced the apprentice's failure. First Enchanter Edmonde sadly agreed with him, and gave the permission to end today's Harrowing in blood.

The Commander gave out the command, and then one of the senior went to the unconscious apprentice, a knife in hand. The Templar bended down to reach her slim neck. She looked so peaceful in her slumber, unaware of her impending doom.

The Templar took a deep breath, and soon blood poured out to flood the marbled floor.

The next thing they knew, an unexpected blast of cold air threw all of them back. Two seniors received the strongest impact, and were sent flying to the pillars. They were knocked out cold after their heads collided with the hard stone.

All of them struggled to recover, and when they did, the scene that greeted them was far worse than a sprained ankle.

The blood did not belong to the apprentice, it was her executioner's. The Templar laid in his own blood as the apprentice floated in front of him, wide-awake. She stared at them with her red eyes, and then created an unsettling smile on her bloodied face. The sight of her sent chills down to their spine.

Then, the morale quickly took a dive, after they saw the men next to her. Commander Eron and First Enchanter Edmonde were on their knees, trapped under a paralyzing spell. She had overpowered the leading figures of the White Spire, an action she couldn't possibly accomplish without a helping hand.

The Templars braced themselves, when she made a move, a sickening move. Her body started to bloat unnaturally with some extra limbs started to grow out of her, and bended in a way they weren't supposed to.

One of the seniors rallied the remaining Templars, instilling courage back into them. She led them to attack the abomination, but had to draw some distance when she suddenly threw up black liquid to the ground.

The tainted liquid spreaded around her and swallowed the fallen Templar. It continued to expand until the very same Templar emerged from its water as a disfigured abomination, followed closely by some shades.

One of the rookies told them, that he would get help, so he ran towards the exit. He was about to reach the door, when he heard someone shouted his name. He couldn't move his legs, after he looked behind him. A sharp tendril of blood was aiming to pierce him through.

The abomination looked at him with both hunger and excitement. But, she was ultimately denied of her prey, when Greggory slashed the tendril, before it could reach the Templar. Greggory told the shocked Templar to hurry. He nodded and opened the door, only to find another fight was happening outside the chamber.

She laughed at their efforts, and how horrifying that laughter was. Her feminine voice was either replaced or joined by a couple of demonic voices, all speaking in unison.

Greggory felt that there were two other entities inside of her. It would make sense, that they had planned for the whole catastrophe. She had sought out those spirits, before the Harrowing began. A deal must have been made, otherwise, those demons would be fighting over the vessel.

She reached for the Templar by the door with her tendrils, ignoring Greggory. She was displeased, when Greg deflected her tendrils again, and charged towards her. He threw a dagger to her, as he got close.

The abomination gave no reaction, when the dagger was stuck in her stomach, the same dark liquid dripping out of her.

"Puny mortal." They said with those disturbing voices, "You are lucky, that she likes you. Take it as a warning, and stay out of our way."

Greggory scoffed when he identified those spirits. He mistook them for something else at first, when it turned out to be a Rage demon and a Desire demon.

However, with their combined strength, he feared for the others' safety. The rest of the Templars were fighting the demons that she had summoned. Three of the rookies were wounded, and one was crawling away from the battle, keeping himself from leaking.

The fight outside made it impossible for an immediate reinforcement. It didn't look good on them. The demons needed to be stop now for the other's survival, Greg thought.

"Face me, cowards! Do not cower behind a child!" Greg suddenly yelled at the abomination.

Edmonde warned the teen not to anger the demons, while he was struggling to free himself and the Commander from the demons' cage. But, the teen didn't listen, he kept drawing their attention to him. Greggory's insults stirred something in the demons, shattering their balance. He didn't have to wait long, before the rage took over.

"Foolish ungrateful filth! You shall suffer for your insolence!" The demons yelled and summoned more tendrils to the ground below Greg's feet.

Greg swiftly moved away, avoiding the tendrils as they shot out. He then sprinted towards the abomination, but then abruptly changed his direction towards the other Templars.

The abomination was surprised, when he turned his back on them. They snorted at him, mocking the mortal's weakness to care for his comrades.

The demons were so full of themselves, that they were tempted to chase after the Templar. Their vessel moved to lunged at him, attacking him from behind with their long sharp claws. It was an action that the teen had anticipated. The demons took his bait.

They plunged their claws with inhuman strength to the teen's back, but he rolled to the side, and made them missed him by inches. Their claws hit the floor, cracking the marble as they got stuck there.

Greggory took the opportunity to attack. They tried to swat him off with their other hand, but he used his shield to bash them away. The demons screamed as he hacked their thick throat with his sword. Greg forcefully cut right through it, until he had severed their vessel's head.

The headless body staggered, and then fell limp to the ground, breaking every spell that belonged to the demons.

Greggory dropped her head, and started to look for the demons that had lost its vessel. The desire demon didn't escape far from his blade, but there was no sign of the other one. He joined the recently freed Commander, who was helping the others with the remaining demons. They might have the upper hand, but one demon was still on the loose.

With his spirit side, he finally caught a glimpse of it, "There!"

The demon was heading to one of his brothers, "Septom! It is behind you!", Greggory warned him, before the demon could make its move. He thanked the Maker, that Septom was as tough to face in combat as he was in person.

The older Templar avoided its clutches, and gave it a killing blow. The fiery demon was stunned and felt itself drifting away.

"You mortals will never change. You all will end up destroying each other. Observe how one of your own have turned on you. Her desire and wrath for your demise were exquisite." It managed to say and laughed maniacally.

"That's enough out of you." The First Enchanter said, before freezing the demon with his ice spell. Septom took the honor to shatter it to a million pieces, finally ending the nightmare.

"Unbelievable." Eron sighed and sheathed his weapon. He closed his eyes in regret, after he saw the defiled body of what once a good man.

"She is a gentle kind person, Commander. Do not believe their lies." Edmonde stated, he didn't want the demons' lies to make things worse for the mages.

Suddenly, the two of them heard the angry stomps of one of the seniors, the one who had rallied the Templars to battle. Evangeline was ready to let out her fury, "Then how do you explain this? With all due respect, First Enchanter, but she is far from innocent."

"We will discuss this later. There are wounded that needed our attention." Eron cut in and gestured to the unconscious and injured Templars. He expected aid would come soon, since the situation outside the chamber had calmed down too.

The young Templar threw away his helmet, and tried to clean his face from the taint that managed to slip through. He gave up, when he made it worse.

"Is the smell worse than your farm, golden boy?" Oswald joked, he was one of the new Templars. The Orlesian offered a clean handkerchief to the teen, which he gladly accepted.

"A pig farm would smell better than this." He smirked and continued, "I hope the Order gives out one of those scented bath oils. I will need a box of them to get this damn stench off."

Oswald chuckled, while Septom and the remaining new Templars smiled at the silly remark. They appreciated the distraction.

To think that a few minutes ago, all of them were laughing at the ritual. Now, a few of those laughing faces were missing.

When the seniors were occupied, it was the youngest of them who took lead. They started to see him in a new light after his fight with the demons. It was him that kept them grounded in the midst of grief and deaths.

They followed his lead and started to help the wounded, but quickly froze when they discovered that one of them had passed away. His body had given up from the loss of blood. None of them thought that they would lose a brother this early.

Greggory watched as guilt started to fill their hearts, blaming themselves for his passing. He knew too well of the suffocating pain and shattered will.

He wished things could have been different. Then he gazed at the apprentice, whose body was still laying in the center of the chamber. He wished that he knew of her suffering much earlier, and protected her from this fate.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"You got to teach me that move, Greg." The brunet Templar blurted out while cleaning his helmet. The thing was so polished, he could see his own reflection on it. Ser Jonathan knew it couldn't get any cleaner than that, but it was the only thing to keep him busy, while they watched over the camp.

He looked over to the Templar beside him, who was nose deep into his book.

"Sure, Jon. Perhaps in our next sparring session." Ser Greggory said, his eyes never left his book.

Ser Jonathan knew he couldn't be bothered when it came to his books, still it was him or back to cleaning his visor. Thus, he quickly thought of something to talk about with the young Templar, "Hey, Greg. I've been wondering about this, how old are you really?"

From that very question alone, it showed that Jonathan was not a keen bloke. Although, he meant well, his spontaneous unfiltered words would sometimes cause a misunderstanding.

"Old enough to be here." Greggory replied.

Jon felt the stabbing knives on his back. He scolded himself for the stupid things that came out of his mouth, and should have realized that it was a delicate subject. "I don't mean it in a bad way! It's impressive, the things you've done in a young age. Forgive me if I offended you, Greg." Jon confessed and hoped that the other would accept his apology and wouldn't cut ties with him.

Greg closed his book and sighed. The blond knew that Jon wouldn't ridicule him, his aura didn't have such motivation. It was childish of him to get so touchy over it.

"Pardon my outburst, Jon. People tend to underestimate me, when they realize my age. That's why I keep my helmet on. I should have known better that you are not like them." Greggory gave him a small apologetic smile, which Jon quickly returned.

"You got me worried there for a second. Glad you're not cross with me, brother." Jon said and grinned. "I also wanted to make sure that I didn't lose you there. It feels like I'm on my own here, while my brothers abandoned me for fat dreams and a book." He posed as if he was utterly hurt.

Greggory laughed and promised not to abandon him again. Jon sniffed a thank you at that.

The night had been uneventful so far, hence the root of Jonathan's boredom. But, their watch would end soon, a few more hours before dawn. And at the first light, they would continue on their way to fetch a new addition to the Circle.

"I don't know how you can stand those nobles, Greg. I bet they were ruthless, when you arrived with the Grand Duke." Jon said, he wanted to know more about the gossips that surrounded Greg and the Grand Duke. They had been the hottest gossip that month.

The blond then told him about that one party, making Jon looked at him in disbelief. He was so much better than him with the Game, at that age too. Not to mention, that Jon was born into nobility, while Greg was just a farmer's boy, that move to Orlais to become the royal gardener's boy.

"Is there anything you can't do?" Jon asked him, feeling a bit envious of his many talents.

"Well, I am hopeless in the kitchen." Greg said with a smirk.

"Bastard, you can get a wife for that!" Jon declared, and playfully poked him in the shoulder.

Jon told him that he would like to be good at the Game and make his father proud, but he couldn't find his place in that life. He told Greg, that he saw the order as an opportunity to escape that old life. Thankfully, his father was a faithful chantry man, and was the one that put him here. Jon joked that he could always be a Chevalier, if his father wished so.

"I'm glad you didn't. Being a Templar suits you." Greg said, making Jon laughed and accused him for an ulterior motives behind the compliment.

All of the sudden, they heard an annoyed grunt behind them. The two looked at the restless sleeping figure by the tree stump. The man twisted and turned, until he finally gave up on finding some comfort in his sleep.

Septom let out another grumpy grunt as he stood up, and straighten his back with his hands. He didn't like camping, especially in the middle of nowhere. "I need a strong one." He said exasperatedly.

Shortly, he caught two pair of eyes that were creeping on him right from the start. Septom gave them a glare before walking to join them. He slapped the back of Jon's head as he passed the brunet. "Oi! What was that for?!" Jon whined while rubbing his mistreated head.

"Your face got in my nerves, Jon. You got anything to drink here?" Septom said, and ignored Jon's baffled look as he sat beside Greggory.

Septom helped himself with their stock of ale, but not before he noticed the empty bottles next to Greggory. He wasn't used to see him drink, or how he held his liquor better than any them.

"Easy with the ale there, brother. You might hurt yourself." Septom commented.

Greg shrugged, "You worry too much. Did you forget that I have my trusty helmet here?" Greg tapped the helmet near his feet, and made both Septom and Jon looked at him, very confused. Greg continued with a grin, "The worst thing I can do is sing a ballad all over the Spire with nothing but my helmet on, and they still won't know it's me. Ah, life is good."

"Maker, man. I don't need that image in my head." Jon said while holding his laugh.

"Bastard. A more reason to keep you sober then." Septom punched his arm playfully and laughed.

"Hey! Are you people even trying to keep watch anymore? I swear the whole blasted forest can hear you. Quiet down."

The three men turned to the fourth, their last teammate who was still curled up on the ground, trying to return to his dream after the rude awakening.

Oswald was unaware of their scheming minds, before they had appeared behind him. "Wha!" was the only thing he could say when the three Templar abruptly grabbed him by the shoulder and feet. They threw him up in the air.

They caught him as he fell, but immediately launched him back up. Oswald cursed at them to stop, while trying to get a grip on them. After the third launch, they dropped him to the ground, roughly.

Oswald laid there on the ground, still cursing on them.

"Dear me, brother. Did the sisters teach you those words?" Jon tsk'ed, and the other two shook their heads looking very disappointed at Oswald.

"I'll show you what else the sisters have taught me, Jon." Oswald said his name rather dangerously.

All of them had a good laugh after that, and promised to treat Oswald with a drink in the next tavern they passed.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Rushing steps and wheezing breaths came from the mage, who had been running for Maker knew how long. He almost ran over other mages in the hallway, and got yelled by some Templars for causing a disturbance.

After a while, the mage stopped in front of the Spire's library. He thought that he should have gone here first, since the Templar had spent so much time in the library.

The mage marched inside the slightly crowded library, which was a good sign at first, but turned frustrating, because none of them was him.

He couldn't think of any other place he could be right now. His only hope laid with the other Templar, who was stationed here.
Yet, it was strange to see him here, since this wasn't his usual post.

The mage quickly set aside those thoughts, it didn't matter now.

"There you are!" The mage said to the Templar, but was embarrassed when the librarian shushed him. He gave her an apologetic nod, before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

The Templar, Ser Oswald, was dragging him to a less crowded part of the library. He was sure that Oswald would know where he was, since both of them were close. He remembered that it was them who had brought him to the circle, when he was still a teen.

"Where is he?" The mage asked, but Os didn't answer him.

He gave a tired sighed, "He is..." he said and paused.

"Well?" The mage tried again, impatiently this time.

Unexpectedly, Ser Oswald took off his helmet, giving a clear hint that he hadn't had a good night's sleep for a long time.

The mage noticed the little changes in them, more each time they left the circle. It saddened him, when fear started to appear in their eyes at the sight of magic. Of course, they would deny it if he asked. He was very fortunate that their friendship wasn't affected by it, yet.

However, it was different with Ser Greggory, he didn't have any changes in his eyes. He always treated everyone like he always did, saw them for their deeds, not for what they were. The mage shook away the incoming negative thoughts, no matter what, he trusted that Greggory, Septom, Jon and Os would always make the right decisions.

"We got back last night, Rob. He went off somewhere after we got to the barracks. He wanted to take a breather, but then he never returned." Os said, his usual collected self was nowhere to be found. "We've been searching for him since this morning, Sept and Jon too. I took this post to wait for him. You know how much he likes to spend time here."

The news made Rob to scratch his head. It was unlike Greg to act like that, but then again this wasn't a very good month for him.

"The funeral must have gone badly." Rob said, and saw a slight tremble in Oswald's lips, making him eyed the taller Templar curiously.

"Plenty of people attended, but none of them were his families or anything close. His only family was his mother. And us." Jon tightened his fist, he felt so angry for his brother's loss. "Greggory doesn't deserve this. It's only weeks ago after he received news about the blight. For all the good he has done, he doesn't deserve another tragedy." Os suddenly slammed his fist to the bookshelf behind him.

Os and the others knew that the blond was born in a village at Ferelden. But, it's only after they discovered the doll, he began to tell them more about his life there. They teased him, when he mentioned his childhood friend. He felt so guilty, when he saw the look on his face after the news of his village's destruction reached him.

"You're right, Os. I wished I could have been there for him." Rob regretted that he missed the funeral. "We need to find him. I just can't understand that blasted man, he's always there to help anyone, but when it's his turn to receive the help, he disappears." Rob's annoyance was mixed with sadness.

"That's our golden boy." Os said with a small laugh that faded a bit too soon.

The two immediately made plan to find Septom. Perhaps, he had better luck than any of them. Rob asked if it would be okay to leave his post like so. Os shrugged and assured him that it's going to be fine. He didn't give a damn to be honest, he just wanted to be there for his brother.

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"You are not feeling any better.", his voice sounded a bit reluctant, but he was determined to help the man. However, the man was making it hard with his constant silence.

He had been following the man here, to the catacombs, ever since they got back from the funeral. It wasn't his first visit to the isolated place. When most had already forgotten about the abandoned place, the man somehow knew of it and how to reach it.

The man in the Templar uniform sat on the broken old fountain, while he stood in front of him, waiting for the silent treatment to end.

The man hunched forward and covered his face with his hands, his messy long hair had fallen sloppily on his forehead.

The Templar's helmet was in his possession. He had to run after it, when the man tossed it away on their way here.

"I am feeling better, Cole." The man stubbornly said, even though he sounded devastated. Cole's powers might not work on him, but he didn't need them to tell the obvious.

"You lie." He pointed out in his usual monotonous voice.

"You sounded sure." The Templar chuckled bitterly, and showed his face to the man with the unusual hat. The man's face strengthened Cole's statement.

His eyes were red, and there were still some traces of dried tears on his cheeks. He didn't look like the Templar that he used to know. He never thought that the stoic man could ever make such face. And that made him so troubled, he wanted nothing, but to understand his pain and to help him feel better.

"You are hurting. Because you lost him, your father?" Cole stopped himself when the Templar's eyes turned to him. Yet, he didn't say anything back.

"They are searching for you. They know you are hurting too. I want to help you, but I don't know how, Greggory." Cole continued.

Ser Greggory Cohen was an enigma, and a dear friend to him. At first, Cole was only curious, when he heard of how the mages thought of him. Most mages in the Spire would loath a Templar, but Greg was different. Even Rhys admired the man.

So, Cole did some stalking, and learned that their strong affection for him was not misplaced. He never intended to prolong his stay in the man's life, but the ghost of the Spire couldn't help himself, especially after he discovered that his powers were useless on him.

It had bothered Cole so much that it didn't take long, before he made himself known to the Templar in the Spire's dungeon. His interest towards the Templar had made him disregard Rhys's warnings on approaching any Templars.

Then, he was surprised, that the man had known of him right from the start. He could see and remember Cole, just like Rhys. He would be thrilled, if he wasn't a Templar, who had a duty to exterminate ghosts like Cole.

But again, Greggory did the unexpected and refused to hurt Cole. He didn't even despise him for what he was, and ignored the fact that Cole tried to make him forget (which still didn't work).

The Ghost of the Spire didn't realize of how much his opinions affected him. Cole felt a pleasant feeling, when he offered his friendship.

It was odd, but Cole trusted him. He might be going blind with this, but he believed that Greg wouldn't do anything bad to him. He even trusted his judgement, when Greg asked him to keep their meeting a secret from Rhys.

As time went on, they became close friends. Greggory was always kind to him, and eager to teach Cole about this world. The man even accepted what Cole had done in order to help the people, the bad things too. He was patient with him, he said he believed that Cole could do better next time.

Greggory became an important person for him. Thus, he was happy when Greg wanted to share his secrets with him. It was something he had kept hidden from everyone else, even those who were closest to him.

Cole couldn't believe him at first. That he was a spirit like him. How could he wrap his head around the idea when he looked so human. But, he knew that Greg would never lie to him about something like this. And it was easier to tell a secret like that to another spirit.

And it turned out, he was telling the truth. Cole eventually saw the small signs, how he faked his Templar's abilities, and how the Lyrium affected him. He was definitely not a human, and he wasn't a mage too.

The revelation made Cole wondered if he too was able to become more human like Greggory. Cole looked up to him, and it was expected that he would grow attached to him.

"I can make you forget. I can try it again until it works!" Cole promised. It had never worked before, but that wouldn't stop him.

Greggory was touched by the spirit's devotion. His expressions softened, after hearing Cole's blazing promise. He swept his hair back, and gazed to the blue flames on one of the torches there.

"No, I have to keep this memory, Cole. They are a part of me.", he scowled, "I have forgotten my place in this world. Keeping the peace, the lies I tell myself. I am just following my desires to be alive, to be loved again. I am just another demon, an abomination. My very existence has led them to this misery." Greg lowered his head, wishing he could turn back time and just walked straight to that river, little girls be damn.

"You are wrong." Cole stated loudly, surprising him. "They mourned, blamed themselves not the sickness. A father buried his son, their hopes, their dreams. It isn't right, the mother said as she wept."

Cole then tried to relive the last memory of him, relive his love for Greggory. "So bright, he may rival the very sun herself. A blessing in the wilderness. A second chance that he didn't deserve. His son who is loved by many, Ser Greggory Cohen, Orlais White Lion. The Sun of their life. He felt scared, suddenly, he didn't want to leave him. He wanted to hold him. To tell him how much he loved his son."

Cole felt the memory faded, and saw that Greggory hadn't made a single move. He was about to check on him, before he sobbed.

"Thank you, Cole.", his voice, it ached Cole's very being.

The spirit walked and sat beside him, keeping a close eye on him.

"Keep me company for awhile. I don't think I want to be alone anymore."

The spirit had never felt such urge to curve his lips into a smile. "They are still looking for you." Cole tried again to remind him about the others who genuinely cared for him too.

Greggory wiped his tears, "Let me make myself presentable, first."

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"Ser Knight Commander Greggory Cohen! Hah!"

Suddenly, he felt the familiar slap on his back as he waited for an old friend and mentor. Seeing that same grin had brought up many memories, Greggory was happy to see him again.

"I have never doubted you for a second, my boy. You have outdone yourself." Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons praised the newly appointed Knight Commander.

It had been years since he last saw him, he could hardly remember the day when the boy departed for the White Spire, finally becoming a recruit to the Templar order. He was so proud for the boy's accomplishments, Orlais' White Lion.

"If you aren't so stubborn on becoming a Templar, I would have never let you leave the academy, boy. You wasted yourselves in that place, when you could do so much more as a Chevalier." The Duke sighed.

But, Greggory grinned, he missed him and was glad that he hadn't changed one bit. "I would if the Templars had forgotten about me, your grace."

Gaspard laughed and led them through his garden. They talked and made up for lost times. Since things had been heating up between the Mages and the Templars, it was a nice change of pace to relax and to catch up with the Grand Duke. Although, he also kept in mind that the Duke's life hadn't been a smooth sailing these past days, so he picked his words carefully.

Gaspard was astounded when he heard of the young man's heroic actions in saving Divine Justinia V from an assassin. But, his tone suddenly changed when he remembered the other person that he had saved. The one who granted him the title "White Lion".

The Duke almost turned bitter, when he brought up the Empress, but he congratulated him nonetheless.

"It shows how much you have grown. I am certain that your father is very proud of you." Gaspard said and held the Commander's shoulder, "I apologize for not attending the funeral. I promise you, my boy, we will find those who are responsible."

Greg nodded, grateful for his support, "Thank you, your grace. That means a lot to me."

The Duke nodded and patted his shoulder before letting go. He cleared his throat and decided to ask about the rumor that he had been hearing, "I heard that you are going to head out of Orlais. I find it hard to believe, it's clear that you are needed here to keep the peace with the mages." Gaspard said, he dislike that rumor. He had plans, and those plans required the young Templar to be within his reach.

"Yes, it's true. It's a mission from the Lord Seeker and the Divine herself. So, even if I want to, it is impossible to refuse them." Greg shrugged,

The Commander hadn't got much detail about it now, but perhaps tomorrow, they would know more about the mission. He hoped he could return as soon as possible, and to see through the conflicts between the Mages and the Templars.

"Is your mother going to be alright on her own?" The Duke asked in concern. Gaspard wouldn't put it pass his cousin, if she offered the boy his mother's safety. It disgusted him, when she gave his mother her own bakery shop in Val Royeaux. She always envied their close bond ever since he had brought him along to one of his parties.

Then, he suddenly felt just how long that was. He felt old when he remembered that day where one of his Chevalier had brought the boy to his academy. The Chevalier was a friend to the boy's father.
At that time, the boy and his family had arrived in Halamshiral to become the royal gardeners. Mr. Cohen's side of the family had been serving the royal families as their gardeners for many generations.

Mr. Cohen asked a favor from the Chevalier to train the boy, while he waited for the Templar to recruit him. The boy was brought to the Academy to train. But then, Gaspard found out about that and he was against it. He didn't want the gardener's boy to be in the academy grounds.

The boy confidently told him that he could prove himself, which led to the defeat of his best recruit in a duel. And that was how he took him in as his pupil.

However, he didn't imagine that the boy could influence his life in so many ways, good ways. It was the boy that made the Duke to start enjoying his life again, after he had lost the throne to his cousin, and became the Crown's joke.

The boy had changed him.

Greggory wouldn't know how much he cared for him, and how jealous he was when his cousin started to warm up with him. The boy didn't know how furious he was when his cousin took the opportunity to win the boy over, when he had to leave for a Chevalier's business.

He was certain that she wished to have the boy as her own. And he was sick of her dirty tricks, like when she brought the boy along to one of her classes, even had the nerve to sing a duet with him, although he admitted that the boy could sing and it turned gold as he matured (yes, he had attended one of his chants).

Yet, it's funny that in the end, the boy chose neither of them.

He chose the Templar instead of the power, fame and fortune the two of them would provide him in the snap of their fingers.

"She wanted me to accept this mission." Greg shrugged, speaking about his mother.

"That's a waste. They should have made you a Knight Divine for saving her imperial divine, but instead, they send you off to deal with foreigners' problems." Gaspard sounded his disapproval. He refrained from telling the Commander about his plans for him in Orlais.

Greggory chuckled at the Duke's idea for him to be a Knight Divine, "I hope it was so. Alas, I will depart tomorrow, and I am not sure how long I will be gone. Also, there was another reason why I visited you today. I know that you have been so kind and generous with me. I would not be where I am today without your support. But, I have one request of you...Will you watch over mother while I'm gone? I know this is an odd request, but after father, I just can't stop worrying about her, your grace." Greg begged rather than asked.

Gaspard felt his chest tightened. He had never seen him like this. Even when he was a boy, he always looked so detached from his emotions, and that was one of the boy's quality that made him unique and a talented fighter.

But not today, he saw the boy's walls crumbled down. His father's passing had hurt him more than he let on, Gaspard thought.

"I do not agree with your mission, but of course, I will watch over Mrs. Cohen." Gaspard granted his plea.

"Thank you, your grace. I will find a way to repay all of your kindness." Greggory said as he bowed.

The Duke patted his shoulder, telling him to raise his head, "Take care of yourself, White lion. You have to return if you want to keep your promise." Gaspard said, making Greg's expression turned to worry. Gaspard had always been honest with him about his ambitions for the throne and for the war he had been envision.

"Thread carefully, your highness. Orlais doesn't need more war in her land."

"There will always be a war as long as she sits on that throne, my boy. And I hope you will be fighting by my side when the time comes."

...

To be continued...


*Gasp* Cole!

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