Summary:
Duncan reflects on his successes so far and wonders about what is to come.
9:30 Dragon, Draconis 7th
It was still raining.
They'd left the tower that night in the wake of Jowan's betrayal. The docks were carved into the rock base that the tower was built upon, forming a cavernous cove that served as the entrance to the Circle of Magi. There had once been a bridge that connected the old fortress to the mainland; the remains of an ancient venture between the Avvar and dwarves. It had fallen into disrepair over the centuries until it was no longer salvageable. Most folks on the surface had little knowledge of dwarven engineering and architecture, so no moves were ever made to remake the old bridge.
When Duncan had led his recruits down below, they'd found the ferryman knocked unconscious and one of the boats used for passage was missing. The Warden had helped the man recover, telling him he was lucky to have survived an attack from the blood mage, and told him to remain at the Circle. He and his recruits took a second boat, promising to have someone from the far side of the docks return it.
They'd crossed the dark surface of the lake with rain on their heads, drenching them to the bone. Nereus had closed his eyes, a serene smile in place as he'd tilted his head up into the storm. Leif had grouched, huddling under an oiled blanket to protect himself from the downpour. Duncan found himself amused over their different reactions to the act of nature.
Both of them had lived lives isolated from the surface world. Belowground, Leif had never known the light of the sun. Locked in the Circle tower, Nereus had been denied its light as well. Snow, rain, hail; neither of them had been touched by it until he'd taken them from their homes, rescuing the both of them from imprisonment and death.
The difference was that the mage had once known the freedom of the surface world. Before his magic had manifested and he'd been stripped of his humanity in an effort to "protect" those fearful of his gift. Leif, on the other hand, was experiencing everything for the first time. Some parts he seemed to enjoy; like the sun.
The dwarf had cringed, guarding his squinting eyes from the harsh light in the sky. He'd gotten sick more than a few times, eventually choosing to stare down at the ground instead of looking all about in wonder as he had before. He was much more adjusted after a few days. He seemed much more relaxed at night, saying he could imagine he was still underground.
Then he'd seen the stars.
After a long, sleepless night of stargazing, he was completely at ease in the open world. He looked at every animal, every tree, flower, and insect with equal amounts of awe in his bright green eyes.
Duncan had never seen someone so in love with the world.
When they'd left the tower, he'd seemed much less in love with the rain. The young dwarf had been thankful for the respite given to them by The Spoiled Princes. The rustic inn was the only building nearby the stoic Circle tower. Many lived far from the old fortress, preferring to give the mage tower a wide berth. The Spoiled Princess thrived on the business brought on by the local templars and the occasional passersby. Families visiting their mage children occasionally stayed at the inn, but that was much less likely.
The three of them had shuffled indoors, soaking wet and freezing. The innkeeper had sighed, grabbing a mop, bucket, and some towels and trudged over their way. When he'd spotted Duncan's Warden armor, he'd been thrilled to bits.
He'd offered them his best rooms at a more than reasonable price. Duncan had paid him double for each and asked for hot meals and towels for the three of them. The man had all but tripped over himself getting everything ready for them.
Their night at the inn had been quiet and uneventful.
No one present had heard or seen anything about an escaped mage.
9:30 Dragon, Draconis 8th
After their night at the inn, the rain had eased up. The ground was hard with ice that crunched under their boots as they headed north, for the coastlands. Within hours, everything from their knees down had been caked with mud and bits of loose greenery. It was still cold, but that was to be expected. They were hardly out of winter and spring wouldn't begin to show itself in earnest for at least another month or two.
For the first few hours, they'd been silent. He supposed Nereus had a lot to think about after the events at the tower. It was likely that Leif was silent for similar reasons, but he could not be sure.
When they'd first arrived at the Circle, he'd asked Irving about potential recruits. All before the Knight-Commander had burst into the room in a fit about the mages at Ostagar. The First Enchanter had told him of Nereus Amell, the young mage who had just passed his Harrowing. He'd set a new record at Kinloch Hold, having been in the Fade for under four minutes before returning triumphant in his mastery over his powers.
Within hours of meeting the potential recruit, Duncan had been approached by Irving over another matter. One of his students had turned to blood magic, an act reprehensible by most morals, and Nereus was going to help the other mage in an escape attempt. He didn't want Nereus punished, asking that Duncan be present when the mages were caught so he could recruit him before the Knight-Commander had him arrested. Duncan had sensed the scheme the First Enchanter had been a part of, but he'd agreed nonetheless.
He had asked for a recruit, after all.
So he and Leif had silently followed the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander when they'd gathered their templars. Observing from the shadows, the two rogues had watched the whole thing play out, all the way down to the templars' defeat and the blood mage's escape. When Greagoir had tried to act against the young mage left behind, Duncan had stepped forward.
He knew the look of betrayal as well as any. Nereus had not believed his friend to be a blood mage. Duncan hadn't missed the look of hurt the young man had aimed against the First Enchanter, either. There was clearly some ill will between the two mages that hadn't been there when he'd first been present. It seemed many things had changed in the tower in the time he'd been there.
Not having good memories of the tower himself – well, maybe a few – Duncan had been all too happy to leave as well.
Now they were a long way from the tower. If they were lucky, they'd reach West Hill in a few days. Until then, it was a life on the rough road for him and his recruits. He knew Leif could take the strain. He'd put the young dwarf through an arduous trek through the Deep Roads on their way to Kinloch Hold. They'd been lucky and hadn't come across any darkspawn during their time, but they'd run into dozens of packs of deepstalkers.
Nereus though… the mage was already lagging behind, leaning on his staff more and more as they went on. He sighed. Of course there wasn't exactly room for exercise in the tower. He doubted anyone wanted to make that a priority. After all, it might give them a better chance at escape.
River Dane wasn't much further. They could rest and set up camp there. He couldn't expect the young mage to keep up with him and Leif quite yet. He'd have to slow their pace a bit, but he knew it would be worth it in the end. Irving had told him about the traps in the basement of the tower. While he hadn't been alone, it was clear that Nereus had played a pivotal role in his friend's break-in of the repository.
Slowing his walk to match the younger man's, Duncan nodded at Leif to do the same. They were walking three abreast on the well-traveled road now.
Nereus noticed, directing a half-hearted scowl at Duncan. "Don't slow down on my account, old man. I was right behind you."
"Oh, I noticed," Duncan replied cannily. "Behind being the prominent word."
Leif snorted.
Nereus frowned. "Excuse me for not being up to your standards of health. We mages don't exactly get our daily dose of sunshine and exercise, you know." He sniffed, leaning on his staff pathetically. "We begin to wilt, you know. I'm only shocked I haven't completely withered away under this punishing pace."
"You know, there was plenty of room in those old caves," Leif supplemented with a frown. "Why don't you mages get some exercise down there?"
Duncan wondered when Leif had found the time to go exploring in the caves. He'd been so focused on observing the other inhabitants of the tower; he'd thought Leif had been in the room asleep the whole time. He'd certainly been there when he'd later returned.
Nereus shrugged. "Probably just another excuse to keep us boxed up." The mage let out a huff, blowing at some hair that had come loose from his long braid. "You know, we used to get sunshine and exercise. I'm not sure if you noticed, but there is a bit of a lawn out front. Or, well, it's really just stone that's covered in moss and weeds."
Leif laughed at the description. "Oh, in that case, there are plenty of lawns in the Deep Roads. Not Orzammar, though. Too hot for most green things."
"I take it someone made an escape attempt?" Duncan asked. If they'd once been allowed outside, it only made sense that someone had used that chance to get away.
The mage nodded. "Right you are. We were always under templar supervision, mind you. Still, one of the apprentices was rather… bold, let's say. He'd run past the templars and leapt into the lake, fully clothed. One of the templars was so shocked he'd tried to go after him, forgetting he was wearing full plate." A dark smile crept across the mage's thin lips. "Oh, he didn't drown. Almost. He got lucky. Anders, though – ah, the apprentice I mentioned – he'd made it clear across the lake."
"Hm," Duncan nodded appreciatively. "Quite the strong swimmer, to have braved Lake Calenhad."
"Especially around the tower," Nereus agreed. "The rocks there are quite treacherous, I hear."
Leif asked the question that Duncan had been wondering about. "Did he get away?"
Throwing his head back to laugh, Nereus said, "Oh, no. No, he did not." His blue eyes were shaded by some unknown emotion. "No, he never gets far." Sighing dramatically, he finished his story. "And that was the end of our outside privileges. Instead of punishing one cheeky mage, they punished everyone. Typical Chantry response."
That ended the conversation for a time. Nereus was clearly brooding over the injury mages suffered at the hands of the church. His sardonic manner of speech clearly carried over into his anecdotes, giving Duncan a fairly clear picture of the sort of man he was. The young mage was very bitter, but there was an undeniable sense of empathy in the way he spoke of others like him. He cared deeply for the pain of mages and felt only resentment towards those he viewed as their oppressors.
Duncan hoped that his distaste for Chantry law would warm him up to the idea of being a Grey Warden. As a Warden, he could live freely as a mage without fear of the Chantry branding him as an apostate. Not only that, he would have sanctioned access to new schools of magic. The magic learned in Circles was always preapproved by the Chantry, meaning that thousands of spells and teachings from around Thedas were completely unknown to mages at the Circle. Their power was truly limitless, but the Chantry put them in cages, regulating their knowledge and power.
Having worked with so many Warden mages over the years, Duncan had a great admiration for mages and their abilities. He hoped that Nereus would prove to be an asset. If his barriers were as good as he claimed, that would certainly be a great boon in the fights to come.
At last, River Dane was before them.
Duncan and Leif set up camp while Nereus watched. He'd clearly never set a tent before, so Duncan didn't expect him to be of use right away. After he and Leif had pitched their own tents, he showed the mage how it was done. He'd purchased more camping supplies at The Spoiled Princess, so the three of them would each have a private space to sleep.
It took a few tries, but eventually the mage seemed to get the hang of it. He even looked proud of himself for having set up his own tent.
"Nereus, I know this is all new to you." The mage seemed to pout in response to the attention, but he continued speaking. "I know you'll catch on in time. I won't push you too far, but don't expect me to go easy on you, either."
"You don't have to go easy on me, Duncan." Nereus looked serious. His light brown hair was disheveled, his robes rumpled, and his boots caked in mud. He looked like a mess, but he seemed at ease all the same. "I wanted out. You got me out. I'll hold up on my end. I've got a lot to learn and a long ways to go… but I'll get there. I won't be a burden."
The older man smiled. "I know. I just wanted to let you know where you stand."
He had nothing to worry about. Leif had already proven himself ready for the challenges that lay ahead. Now he knew Nereus would do the same. He'd chosen well for his first two recruits. He looked forward to continuing the trend. He'd already picked up one recruit in Highever months ago, but he was hoping to find another. Ser Jory had done well in the tourney, but Duncan had started having doubts about the knight after bringing him to Ostagar.
Perhaps he'd have better luck this go around. Taking Nereus's pace into account, he estimated they'd reach Highever in a little over a week. He knew Teyrn Cousland was going to be bringing his men down south soon, but he expected to arrive before then so he could get a good look at potential recruits.
Until then, he'd do his best to mentor the two he'd already picked up. Similar as they were in a basic sense, he had the distinct feeling there was a lot more going on under the surface. He expected he'd learn more about them soon enough.
After all, the road ahead was long. They still had some ways to go.
