A/N: Still shifting the chapter around. I've written another (one, two?) new chapters, and those'll be going up soon, so please bear with me!

Thanks to those that read and review!

Chapter 8

Elias stared at the pool of blood on the floor, Jowan's blood, for several seconds before remembering that they were not out of the woods. Now all she had to do was figure out a way to get them out of the basement without running into a host of templars. She wouldn't be much of a match for them in her current state, so fighting their way out wasn't an option. One way or the other, they were out of time.

"The sooner we get out of here, the better," she told her companions, beginning to head back down the stairs.

"I do not want to stay here a moment longer," Lily said, as she followed the other woman down the stairs, sounding extremely tired. Elias knew how she felt.

"We can probably go out through the locked door instead of the way we came," Elias said as she reached the foot of the steps. "I doubt it's locked from this side."

"Good idea," Jowan said, quick on her heels.

Sure enough, when they tried the door from the other side, the wards guarding it were disengaged and they were able to pass unhindered. Elias picked up her pace. They were so close . . . so very close to freedom. If luck was with them, no one yet knew that they were downstairs, and they'd have at least a few minutes to return to the main floor and figure out a way of escaping the tower.

As they proceeded down the corridors at a run, heading for the first floor entrance, they met no one, and the upstairs seemed quiet. I can't believe we really did it. Reaching their exit at last, Elias threw open the door and ran forward into an empty room, and her heart soared. Yes!

"We did it!" Jowan said, voice raised in exaltation more than was probably wise. "I can't believe it! Thank you!" He rushed forward and grabbed Elias' shoulders, as if ready to scoop her into a hug, but releasing quickly when she winced, remembering her wounded right side. "We could never have—"

"So, what you said was true, Irving."

Elias heard the clanking of armor, and felt whatever strength was left in her body drain out of her as she watched the first enchanter approach with Knight-Commander Greagoir at his side, several templars in tow. There was no way out now. It would be impossible to fight the first enchanter and Knight-Commander simultaneously. They had reached the end.

You must lie, Elias' mind screamed. You must lie, and lie well.

She stepped forward, placing her body subtly in front of Jowan and Lily. "First Enchanter, I assure you, this isn't what it looks like," she told them in a calm, reasonable voice, hoping to set the tone as much as possible.

"An initiate conspiring with a blood mage," Greigor said, completely ignoring Elias and strolling up to address Lily instead. "I'm disappointed in you."

Lily's eyes widened in shock, and Elias sent her a look desperately. Don't believe it, her eyes screamed. Jowan wouldn't do that . . .

Greagoir seemed mildly satisfied about something. "She seems shocked," he said to Irving, indicating the look of distress on Lily's face. "But fully in control of her own mind . . . not a thrall of the blood mage, then . . ."

Stop calling him that! Elias' mind thundered at him, fury boiling through her and threatening to spill over.

"You were right, Irving," he admitted, turning back to the first enchanter. "The initiate has betrayed us. The Chantry will not let this go unpunished. And this one," he said in disgust, motioning to Elias with a finger. "Newly a mage, and already flouting the rules of the circle!"

"I am . . . disappointed in you," Irving said, deep lines of sadness etching his weathered face, and Elias felt extremely guilty. "You could have told me what you knew of this plan, and you didn't."

"You don't care for the mages!" Jowan shouted at him angrily. "You just bow to the Chantry's every whim!"

"Jowan, please don't make it worse," she whispered to her friend out of the corner of her mouth, as quietly as she could.

"Enough!" Greagoir said loudly, and the young mage fell silent. "As Knight-Commander of the templars here assembled, I sentence this blood mage to death."

Like hell you will! Elias nearly screamed, but Greagoir was not finished.

"And this initiate, he said, turning to Lily with contempt, "has scorned the Maker, and her vows. Take her to Aeonar."

Lily's creamy complexion paled to a deathly pallor, and she took a step back involuntarily as two templars came forward to seize her. "Th—the mages' prison?" she asked, horrified. "No, please! No, not there—"

"No!" Jowan thundered, pulling a dagger that Elias had never before seen out of his robes and holding it before him. "I won't let you touch her!" And without warning, he plunged it deep into his left hand.

A spray of blood erupted from the wound and quivered in midair. Jowan's face contorted with fury as the crimson flow ceased its movement, hovering ominously, and then unleashed itself, swirling around the young man like an angry whirlpool before erupting outward at Jowan's command.

The blood struck the two templars that had stepped forward to apprehend Lily, and their bodies fell to the floor with a loud crash as the wave moved on to consume the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter. Greagoir made to draw his sword, but too late; the blood magic surged over and passed him, and the proud man crumpled to the ground and did not move.

Silence reigned. Elias turned in a dull haze to try and understand what was happening. Greagoir, Irving, the templars . . . they were all lying prone at Jowan's feet, though whether dead or simply unconscious was unclear. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. She had fallen asleep, and some twisted, angry, irrational, fearful part of her mind had conjured this up in the wake of her Harrowing. The Jowan she knew wouldn't do this. In the stifling stillness, Elias was afraid she was going to be sick

Jowan turned to Lily and opened his mouth to explain, but she cut him off.

"By the Maker!" she whispered, aghast. "Blood magic! How could you? You said you never—"

"I admit, I-I dabbled!" Jowan cut her off, trying to make her understand. "I thought it would make me a better mage!"

"Blood magic is evil, Jowan," Lily said softly, now beginning to back away, eyes locked on her lover. "It corrupts people, changes them."

"I'm going to give it up!" Jowan said desperately, taking a step toward her, voice breaking. "All magic! I just want to be with you, Lily! Please, come with me!"

"I trusted you," she answered him severely, a strange calm having settled over her. "I was ready to sacrifice everything for you . . ."

A single tear fell unbidden from her bright eyes and rolled down her alabaster cheek as she fixed Jowan with a hard stare. "I don't know who you are, blood mage. Stay away from me."

For several painful heartbeats, Jowan stared at Lily, anguished, rooted to the spot, unable or unwilling to move or say anything more in his own defense. And then he was gone, sprinting away down the hall as fast as Elias had ever seen him run.

Don't! She tried to scream, but her voice wouldn't obey her. Don't leave! You have to stay here and explain how this is all a huge mistake! You have to make me understand!

But it wasn't a mistake, and she knew it. Jowan was a blood mage. Truth be told, she had probably known on some level that Irving's accusations were true. Greagoir might be willing to make an apprentice Tranquil on a mere rumor, but the First Enchanter, as frustrating as it sometimes was to watch him bow knee to the Chantry, was a fair man, a just man, and he never would have allowed such a thing to happen.

And now Jowan was gone, and he wasn't coming back. His phylactery was destroyed, so he would be harder to track, but the templars were relentless, and they would catch him eventually. And when they did, they would kill him.

Elias stood paralyzed for several minutes, eyes never leaving the spot from which Jowan had just departed. What would happen to her now? She neither knew nor cared. She had aided a blood mage's escape, and they would not go easy on her for such an offense.

Eventually Irving began to stir, groaning as if in pain and attempting to rise off the hard stone. Bending to help, Elias clasped the old man gently by his shoulders and helped him to his feet, letting him use her for balance and supporting most of his weight.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, voice raspy. Elias nodded listlessly, staring at the ground and refusing to meet his eyes. "Where's Greagoir?"

"I knew it!" Greagoir grunted, getting to his feet with much more grace than Irving and staring about him in fury. "Blood magic! But to overcome so many . . . I didn't think he was capable of such power."

The others in the room were now beginning to waken, moaning in pain and hoisting themselves up off the ground slowly, armor clanking dully.

"Jowan promised me he wasn't a blood mage!" Elias said to herself, trying desperately to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

"None of us expected this," Irving told her gently. Brushing himself off, he turned to his colleague. "Are you alright, Greagoir?"

The Knight-Commander was pacing, clearly in a rage and unsure of who to unleash it on first. "As good as can be expected, given the circumstances!" he snapped, nearly kicking the wall in his consternation. "If you had let me act sooner, this would not have happened! Now we have a blood mage on the loose, and no way to track him down!"

"Yes, Jowan destroyed his phylactery," Elias said to him without emotion, staring at a spot slightly above his right shoulder.

"Where is the girl?" Greagoir asked, ignoring her.

"I . . . I am here, sir," Lily answered from the back of the room, stepping forward slightly so that the templar could perceive her more easily.

"You helped a blood mage!" Greagoir spat. He gestured at the others around the room, some of whom were still picking themselves off the floor with some difficulty. "Look at all he's hurt!"

"She didn't know Jowan was a blood mage," Elias told him, knowing that she was pushing her luck but unable to care.

"You've been a friend," Lily piped up, stopping her from saying any more, "but you needn't defend me any longer." Swallowing hard, Lily walked forward to stand before her judge, jury and executioner without flinching. "Knight-Commander, I . . . I was wrong. I was accomplice to a . . . blood mage." She said this last with difficulty, as though forcing her lips to form such words about Jowan was almost physically impossible for her. "I will accept whatever punishment you see fit. Even . . . " her voice trailed off momentarily."Even Aoenar," she finished.

"Get her out of my sight!" Greagoir barked, and two of the templar guards once again came forward to seize Lily. Having nothing to impede them this time, each of them grasped her just above the elbow and proceeded to escort her away. As she passed, Elias tried to catch her eye, tried to offer the broken woman some reassurance, but Lily purposely avoided her eyes, and by the time the young mage had worked out the words she wanted to say, the older woman was gone.

"And you" Greagoir said in disgust, turning to Elias and brandishing his finger at her angrily. "You know why the repository exists! Some artifacts, some magics are locked away for a reason!"

"Did you take anything important from the repository?" Irving asked her, his tone much calmer and more reassuring than the angry templar's.

"Yes, this staff," Elias admitted, tone flat as she took the weapon from its strap on her back and held it out for the first enchanter. "You can have it back, if you like."

"Well, finally, some honesty," Greagoir said with a snort, looking down his nose at her. "But your antics have made a mockery of this circle. Ugh, what are we to do with you?"

"I had no idea he was a blood mage," Elias whispered, barely able to keep herself from weeping, knowing that it would not matter.

"And you think this excuses you?" the Knight-Commander asked her, continuing his tirade. "You helped a blood mage escape! All our preventative measures for naught, because of you!"

"Knight-commander, if I may," came a familiar voice from the door.

Elias turned, surprised, as Duncan walked into the room, taking quick, long strides to reach their small party standing near the back. He moved with grace and confidence, gaze locked on Greagoir, and the young woman could not for the life of her figure why he was present, nor why he would be monitoring the situation from the hallway beyond.

"I'm not only looking for mages to join the king's army; I'm also recruiting for the Grey Wardens. Irving spoke highly of this mage, and I would like her to join the Warden ranks."

He can't mean that Elias said to herself, dazed, sure that this was just the latest development in a cruel dream that the Fade was visiting upon her, a dream from which she was having trouble awakening. Leave the circle? Become a . . . a Grey Warden?

Greagoir's face turned from red to purple in his rage, but before he could begin shrieking, Irving addressed the Warden solemnly.

"Duncan, this mage has assisted a maleficar, and shown a lack of regard for the Circle's rules-"

"She is a danger!" the templar stated, refusing to be silenced even for a second. "To all of us!"

"It is a rare person who risks all for a friend in need," Duncan said kindly, shifting his gaze to Elias and nodding at her politely. "I stand by my decision; I will recruit this mage."

"No!" Greagoir nearly screamed. "I refuse to let this go unpunished!"

"Greagoir is right," Elias heard herself agree as if from very far away. "I will stay here and face the consequences of my actions."

"Humph. Perhaps not all of our lessons have been lost. She knows her place," the Knight-Commander commented, for the first time Elias could ever remember sounding approving.

"Don't be a fool," Duncan said, turning to face her, serious. "You have assisted a maleficar. You must know what awaits you in the Circle."

"But I have done nothing wrong," Elias insisted, feeling the first seeds of anger growing within her. She quashed them, knowing how dangerous they could be for her at a time like this.

"You may think so," Duncan told her with a sad half-smile. "But others feel otherwise."

"What's he doing?" Greagoir demanded angrily. "Stop him!" he added, but no one came forward to assist him, confused as to what was actually happening.

"You know Duncan can invoke the Rite of Conscription if he wishes," Irving said to his colleague, sounding very slightly relieved. "We must comply."

"The rite of what?" Elias asked, glancing around confused.

"If the Grey Wardens wish to conscript someone, neither lord nor king can deny them," Irving told her.

"What about my punishment?" the young woman asked. It was simply impossible that she would be allowed to just leave the Circle and live on the outside after what she had just done. The world just didn't work that way. Not for a mage.

"Greagoir, mages are needed," Duncan said, trying to appeal to the man. Elias could have told him he might was well try to teach magic to dwarves, but hadn't asked her opinion, so she remained silent.

"This mage is needed!" he continued, gesturing to her. "Worse things plague this world than blood mages, you know that. I take this young mage under my wing and bear all responsibility for her actions."

"A blood mage escapes, and his accomplice is not only unpunished, but is rewarded by becoming a Grey Warden!" Greagoir uttered, nearly beside himself. "Are our rules nothing? Have we lost all authority over our mages? This does not bode well, Irving."

"Enough," the First Enchanter said, holding up both hands for silence. "We have no more say in this matter.

Elias could barely believe what she was hearing. Less than two days ago she had been an apprentice studying her art beside her best friend and dreaming of a life outside these walls. Now she was nearly an outlaw, the templars were searching for Jowan with the intent of ending his life, and she was leaving the Circle, possibly never to return, and joining the ranks of the famous Grey Wardens, the order for whom even kings bended knee.

"So I am to be a Grey Warden?" she said, almost to herself, as if needing to say it aloud to begin believing it.

"Yes," Irving answered her, smiling sadly. "Be proud, child; you are luckier than you know."

The young woman turned to face Irving, resisting the temptation to take his hand or to put her arms around him. For all his flaws, the First Enchanter was the closest thing to a father that any of the young mages had, and it was hard to leave the tower on such a note. Everything that had happened to her in the last twelve hours was threatening to overwhelm her, and Elias knew that she had to leave the room as quickly as possible if she was to hold herself together. Her mind had reached its saturation point.

"Thank you, First Enchanter," she said, swallowing hard and attempting to smile. "For everything."

"Come," Duncan said kindly to Elias, gesturing toward the exit and smiling. "Your new life awaits."