It was a hard thing to accept, this almost unavoidable change in his life. One moment he was a petty servant to the Chevaliers, the next he was traveling into Ferelden with two dwarven merchants he barely knew. And the journey wasn't exactly the easiest thing to endure.

Several times they were stopped by Ferelden soldiers, asking for papers verifying that they were allowed within the country after passing through the border along the Frostback Mountains. Bodahn, the elder dwarf's name, had managed to forge Andre's name onto the papers. There were flaws in the forgery, of course, but the soldiers weren't paid to determine whether or not it was an actual signature, just that they King's seal was in place.

They had been traveling for nearly a week, now making their way around Lake Calenhad, named after the late King Calenhad after he united the once barbarian lands. The atmosphere was cold as the wind would pick up and blow the air of the lake towards them, which still retained the bitterness of the winter long since past. Even from the distance that they were at, Kinloch Hold still made Andre nervous. The thought of being locked away for the rest of his life left a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He should have been more reassured, since the smaller dwarf, Sandal, gave him an enchanted rune to help hide his magic in case he accidentally released it. It had been building up for years, so who knew when it would come out. And if the Templars sensed it? No, that thought was even too much for him to bear.

It was getting late and Bodahn suggested they rest the ox that was driving their cart and set up camp. Reluctantly, Andre hopped down from the back of the cart and began to help unload their camping gear while throwing a tarp over the cart itself. Sandal was busying himself by helping his "father" unhinge the ox to allow it to graze. Andre tightened the straps connecting the cart to the tarp and began to pick up some of their tents to lug it over to the softer grass area.

"Just set up the one tent for yourself. The boy and I will be happy to sleep under the stars for once," Bodahn commented after watering his ox and picking up stones to create a fire pit. Andre looked around and unceremoniously dropped all the equipment on the ground. He kneeled down and began to untie the bedrolls as Bodahn and Sandal set the stone in place for the fire. Taking some dried wood out of his roll, he shook it to get all the dirt out of it and began to place the wood inside the pit. He waited for Bodahn to light his flint and begin the pain-staking process of maintaining the fire, but it never happened.

"No fire tonight," Andre questioned the dwarf, unsurprised if it were so since often they had to go without fire in hostile territories.

"Fire," Sandal clapped and jumped around happily after pointing to Andre.

Andre quirked an eyebrow at Sandal and turned his head toward Bodahn. "Fire?"

"I believe my boy wants you to light the fire this time," Bodahn stated simply to justify the strange behavior of his son.

"But," Andre gestured to the shadowing tower in the distance, "this isn't exactly the best place for me to conjure anything."

"Enchantment!" Sandal walked over to Andre and tapped the rune that held Andre's cloak together.

Andre looked down at it, confused, until he remembered what Sandal had made it for. "Oh!" He touched the rune, which glowed in response to his magic. "I had forgotten about this. Do you think it will work?" He glanced over to Bodahn when posing this question. The dwarf shrugged in response and sat down on the grass.

"We can only know if you try."

Andre nodded and breathed out heavily. He shook his hands and craned his neck, trying to relax since it had been a long time since he had summoned magic willingly. When he was younger, his sister had found out about his magic and kept him hidden away, ashamed of his blood; ashamed of what he had done the first time he released his power. It had been called an accident, made by a poorly placed lantern. But the memories of him desperately trying to conjure a cold spell, or poor the water from the troughs onto the flaming barn to soothe the monster that ate away at the flesh of his parents, stayed with him. From then on he was forced into isolation, the only other face he saw was his sister's.

She always had control over his life, right up until Lord De Prevot was murdered and he was set free from his command. And now, he was free to release the thing he held inside of him for so long.

Kneeling next to the fire-pit, Andre held out his hands awkwardly. He had seen some of the battle mages practicing in the fields, the ones that had their freedom since they were used for war so the mage fighting was irrelevant to them, so he attempted to mock their movements at the time, without calling forth from the Fade. It had involved a lot of chanting and flicks of the wrist, but Andre seemed to recall some of it. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bodahn and Sandal watching him expectantly. "Um," he gulped and cleared his throat, "you might want to stand back. This thing could go anywhere."

"Bah, no worries," Bodahn said, waving it off. "We're dwarves, practically immune to your magic. Once you start burning armies of darkspawn, then we will be worried."

Andre drew his eyebrows together and shook his head, bewildered at the fact that the dwarf showed no signs of fear. It was something he wasn't used to, to say the least. He focused his attention back onto the still forms of the stacked wood. Imagine the fire passing through you and at your target, he could still hear the enchanter say during the practice on the fields.

Gulping, he imagined the Fade surrounding him. The dark camp, wagon and dwarves became just a shrouded blur as his focus became more intense. White encased everything except for him and the unheated pit. Voices tried to penetrate his ears, luring him into the dark corners of the Fade. He twitched, resisting the temptation to follow the sweet sounds and promises. Instead, Andre focused on the task at hand: lighting this damn fire.

The invocation that the enchanter spoke in Arcanum flooded through his veins as he repeated the words out loud. Over and over again he chanted, until he was saying them with perfect clarity. The Fade began to dissipate as it appeared to almost curl up and lunge itself into him. The remaining white aura formed into small lines of energy, dancing around Andre's fingers. Clarity struck the camp once more as Andre channeled the wave of energy received from the Fade into his hands, making them light with a wild blue fire. Opening the eyes that he had unknowingly shut, he flicked his fingers down towards the pit. Small amount of fire trickled down until the magical fire licked at the wood, catching it as it spread.

Andre let out a sigh of relief when the flames took, until he noticed he was still holding the flame. He pushed his feet back, allowing himself to fall flat on his backside, and shook his hands violently. When the last amount of fire was gone, he slumped and rolled onto his side, snorting at the laughter coming from the older dwarf as he had witnessed this scene. "It's not funny, you know! That was very difficult."

"Oh, I'm sure. Lighting yourself on fire is a pretty big accomplishment," Bodahn joked as he overturned a charred log.

Andre was about to retort but was interrupted by a loud growling sound. He rolled on his back and pushed himself up to sit. Sandal patted his stomach and grimaced, "hungry."

"I'll start dinner," Andre said while retaining a chuckle.

The stew was not as filling as they would have liked it to be. One of their main reasons for heading to Redcliffe was to stock up on supplies for making another trip, possibly to another country altogether. So their stew was made up of whatever rations they could spare, sided with some tasteless doughy bread that was perfect for soaking up the juice at the bottom of their bowls.

With heavy eyes, Andre laid his head down to rest. The Fade did not bring him sweet darkness that night. Instead, his mind was plagued with the horrors of his past.

He was hidden. The dark corners of the wagon that his sister had bought were not foreign to him. Sometimes she let him out, to see the forest of Orlais and even fetch a thing or two from the stalls, but no more than that. The carriage stopped. He heard his sister getting off the front reigns and walking towards the back, her feet crunching against the stone road. The flaps opened, and Andre shielded his eyes from the sudden brightness of the sun. "We're here," she said, her golden eyes shimmering in contrast to her black hair. Andre scrambled out of the wagon, still covering his eyes until they adjusted to the light. When he stepped down from the wagon, a man in bright clothing stood in front of him.

For a moment, he thought of retreating until a reassuring hand landed on his shoulder from his sister. She brought her lips close to his ear and whispered, "It's going to be alright, Andre. He's going to help you while I go away for a while." He gulped down a large lump in his throat and nodded.

The man held out his hand, a fake smile plastered on his face. "Ah, so you're the one I was told about. You look like a strong boy. It will be a pleasure having you under me." Andre slowly and hesitantly raised his hand, gripping the man's lightly. "My name is Lord Gautier De Prevot."

Andre awoke with a sweat. Screaming filled his ears. To his relief, he found it was not his own this time. Instead he looked off into the distance, where torched grass lit up the dark area. Men in heavy armor pushed against a smaller force. Blood was spilling before his eyes. It wasn't screams he was hearing, it was battle cries. A small built, red-haired woman fired shots off her long bow aside a lightly armored dwarf. Unmarked soldiers protected them from the charging Templars, who tried unsuccessfully to break their line.

Another heavily armored soldier of the resistance lunged at them, barreling them down with their shield before jamming their sword into them. Andre found that he had stood up and began creeping over to get a better look. When he did so, he saw that a Templar had swung off to the side to flank the dwarf. He looked back to Bodahn and Sandal who also rose to see the commotion. Bodahn waved his hand at him, telling him to get back to the camp, but he couldn't. The Templar was growing closer to a flanking position and if he didn't-

Before he knew it, the Fade was absorbed into him once more as he reached out his hand, to the swinging Templar. It released itself, surging forth a wave of lightening, knocking the Templar back just enough for the dwarf to acknowledge his presence. The dwarf swung around and cocked back his massive crossbow, sending a bolt through the eye-socket of the Templar.

The red-haired woman sent off her own arrows at the other opposing men, damaging enough of them that the heavy-armored, shield-bashing soldier could decapitate them before they even knew what happened. Some of the resistance fell to their own deaths as a raging Templar began to violently swing his blade, realizing he was the last to stand. "You don't have to do this," Andre heard the heavy-armored person plead. Was that a woman? Yes… I think it was.

The Templar ignored her cries of warning and instead turned his gaze towards her. "You didn't have to interfere," the Templar growled before charging towards the woman once more. She held up her shield and stumbled back as the force of the blade bounced of it. She pulled her shield back to swing her blade, which locked with the Templar's.

"I refuse to allow innocents to die!" The woman pushed back on her blade, causing the man to falter backwards. Andre looked around the group to see if her companions would interfere, but they just stood by and watched. Why won't they help her?

The man regained his bearings and lunged forward, arcing his blade upwards to allow for a more powerful impact. He heaved it down towards her helmet as she frantically put up her shield to protect herself. It was too late, he saw, as the blade quickly moved downward, striking her arm and causing her to crash down on the grass. The Templar towered over her, clutching his blade tightly. "Mages are the Maker's punishment to the world. They deserve no less than what we give them." He raised his sword to a vertical plunge over her. As he was about to strike her down, Andre saw the point of a blade piercing through his side.

He dropped his sword and staggered backwards, allowing the blade to slide off, grasping onto his side. Blood pooled around the wound, far more than what he needed within him to survive. He dropped to his knees and used his free hand to remove his helmet. Sweat kept his hair plastered to his head, his face was red from exhaustion but pale in some spots from blood loss. Andre's eyes widened as he realized this man was no older than he was. Fresh out of recruitment, most likely. The woman seemed to realize it too as her look of anger turned into pity.

Andre grew closer as the woman took off her own helmet, revealing red hair and a freckled face, and kneeled down to the Templar. "Let go of this hate that you have. You fought well and brave, defending what you believed was right. But now you're dying. Leave this hatred behind you as you go wherever it is you are going. It's no use there."

He clutched his side and screamed in pain, keeling over to lay on the ground. "Maker save you," he whispered to the woman as he slowly drifted off to the Maker's side.

The woman shook her head sorrowfully and stood up. She looked over to the soldiers and her companions. "Let's move out."

"Wait a minute, Aveline," the dwarf chimed in. He looked over to Andre and nodded his head towards him. "I think we ought to thank the guy who blasted Mr. Stabby behind me."

Andre stepped back in shock as the red-haired archer, Aveline and the dwarf strutted towards him. He looked around for a place to hide but cursed himself as he found nowhere within range. Andre looked behind him as he heard the footsteps of the merchant dwarves approach as well. "Messere Varric! Messere Aveline! Oh! And Lady Leliana! What a pleasant surprise," Bodahn said cheerfully as he stopped next to Andre.

"Haha, Bodahn you old dog! What brings you back to Ferelden?" Varric laughed and clapped his hand against Bodahn's back, making his stagger forward from the impact.

He rubbed his back thoughtfully as he regained his composure. "Business as usual. War really makes the sales go up."

"Heh, I knew I liked you," Varric jested before turning his attention back to Andre. "So, ah-"

"Are you an apostate," Leliana questioned before Varric got the chance.

"I, um-" Andre stuttered before Bodahn took over.

"The boy is a mage, yes. He's still trying to get used to his magic, however. With some training he might be more capable." He could tell that Bodahn was persuading them, but for what? Did he expect Andre to just up and join a group of people that he had never met before? Ones that he just saw attack Templars head on? He wasn't ready for that…

Not like he had any say in the matter, as they were discussing it while he was trying to gather his thoughts.

"So, you come with us, we get Sparky some training, and you will give us a discount on wares?" Varric had his hand on his chin as he pondered the idea. He looked to Leliana who just shrugged.

"Oh of course, messere. I never break my deals."

"Alright, Bodahn, you have a deal," Aveline said while extending her hand.

Bodahn took it and shook it excitingly. "Oh, thank you messere! It's always such a relief traveling with fighters, such as yourselves, through these dark times."

"Do you mind remaining here for a while? We have to secure the tower and it would be safer for you down here."

"I think we should bring the mage with us," Leliana commented as she studied Andre. "Maybe some of the mages there will be willing to train him."

"Can I have a name, or will you be calling me 'the mage' the entire time," Andre questioned the three in front of him.

"Depends if I like the name, Sparky." Varric had already given him a name, whether he liked it or not.

"It's Andre. And I'm not sure I would be very useful in the tower-"

"Well, you need training and the mages in there would be more willing to provide it for you if you helped them." Aveline was not too fond of the idea, herself, but she would never pass up the opportunity for more assistance.

Andre sighed. "I don't have much choice, do I?"

"Heh," Varric let out a small laugh and patted Andre on his arm, "we never do."