When Daylen awoke he found himself in his bed with Jowan, his best friend, watching over him. He looked concerned and his face bore fear.
"Are you all right? Say something please…" he said.
"Jowan?" he said, blinking.
He breathed through a sigh of relief and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm glad you're right. They carry you in this morning. I didn't realise you'd been gone all night. I've heard about apprentices who never come back from the Harrowings. Is it that dangerous? What was it like?"
Daylen was forbidden to talk about the Harrowing, but he suppose it was all right to give a basic outline. "It was a test of ability—that's all."
However, Jowan wasn't gonna let him off that easily. "There must be something more, or they would tell the apprentices what's involved. I know I'm not supposed to know… but we're friends. Just a little hint, and I'll stop asking. I promise!"
He groaned. "I had to enter the Fade."
Jowan blinked. "Really? That's it?"
He couldn't tell Jowan any more or the Templars would have his head. "Yes, that's pretty much it."
"And now you get to move to the mage's quarters upstairs," he said bitterly. "I hope I get there someday."
Daylen shrugged. "Any day now, probably."
"I've been here longer than you have… sometimes I think they just don't want to test me."
It was true, Jowan had been there a few more years than he had been, but his teachers has said that he was very skilled. Still he can't understand why they hadn't let Jowan do the Harrowing.
"What are you talking about?"
Jowan then stood up and began pacing around. "The Tranquil never go through a Harrowing. You do the Harrowing, the Rite of Tranquillity… or you die. That's what happens."
"What does this have to do with you?"
"If… if they don't call apprentices to the Harrowing, it probably means… Tranquillity. You've seen the Tranquil around the tower. Like Owain, who runs the stockroom. He's so cold. Now, not even cold. There just… nothing in him. It's like he's dead, still walking. His voice, his eyes are lifeless…"
"I'll watch for that the next time I talk to Owain." He didn't really had to watch him, he only knew what he was talking about. He didn't even like to think about his best friend ending up like that.
"He's been made tranquil. I don't know how they do it exactly, but you're cut off from the Fade. It takes away your magic ability, along with your dreams… and emotions."
"It's awful," Daylen admitted.
"Apprentices can ask to make tranquil if they fear the Harrowing. But the Circle also forces Tranquil and those they feel are weak. And sometimes they force it on apprentices they think might be to… dangerous as mages." He sighed and clearly realise that he was leaving him a lecture on things he already knew about. "I shouldn't waste your time with this. I was supposed to tell you to see Irving as soon as you woke up."
Daylen frowned. "What for?"
"He didn't tell me. About the Harrowing. I'd guess, but you never know with Irving. You then keep them waiting." He then hesitated for a moment. "We can speak later."
Daylen could tell from the way he was walking away that something was bothering Jowan, but he didn't know what.
He soon met up with Sir Cullen, he practically his only friend in the Templars.
"Greetings. I'm glad you're Harrowing went well," he said.
"Yes, well, I wasn't looking forward to be run through, either," Daylen joked.
Cullen crossed his arms. "Some Tempers I know discuss such things with glee. I share their enthusiasm. I tried to serve the Maker first and foremost. As long as I am guarded by his commandments, I cannot go wrong. Honestly, I've never seen an abomination… or been called on to slay one."
"I'm sure the other Templars would have told you if I did became one," he assured.
Cullen shrugged. "I suppose you're right. But when someone becomes an abomination, something… must happen."
"Maybe you should discuss this with the other Templars," he suggested. "Anyway Irving wanted to see me about something."
"Well, I best not keep you waiting then."
As he walked off it can have a note of the concerned look on Cullen's face and couldn't help but wonder this was going to be a problem in the near future.
He just arrived outside of Irving's office and already you could hear arguments flowing outside. This was never a good sign and decided to hang back just in case things turn for the worst.
"—many have already gone to Ostagar—Wynne, Uldred, and most of the senior mages! We've committed enough of our own to this war effort—" Greagoir's voice was saying.
"Your own? Since when have you felt such kinship with the mages, Greagoir?" said Irving's voice. "Or are you afraid to let mages out from under Chantry supervision, when they can actually use their Maker—given powers?"
"How dare you suggest—"
He leaned his head in a bit and found Irving and Greagoir at each other's throats. He then noted a third man in the room and recognise the crest on his chest as the symbol of the Grey Wardens.
The third man noticed him and began trying to calm the two men down. "Gentlemen, please. Irving, someone is here to see you."
He gave a nervous smile and entered into the room. "First Enchanter?"
Irving beamed at him. "Ah, if it isn't our new brother in the Circle. Come, child."
"This is…?" The stranger gave him a considering look the way he looked at her reminded her of the way the spirit of Valour looked.
"Yes, this is he." Irving was smiling with pride.
Greagoir shook his head. "Well, Irving, you're obviously busy. We'll discuss this later."
Irving watched him as he left before turning back to him and the stranger. "Of course. Well, then… where was I? Oh, yes. This is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens."
"Pleased to meet you," he said giving a small bow.
"You've heard about the war brewing to the south, I expect? Duncan is recruiting mages to join the king's army at Ostagar."
He indeed had heard rumours of that affect, but this is the first time he heard it officially. "I would like to defend Ferelden."
"With the darkspawn invading, we need all the help we can get, especially from the Circle," said Duncan smiling.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"The power you mages wield is an asset to any army. Your spells are very effective against large groups of mindless darkspawn. I fear if we don't drive them back, we may see another Blight."
"Duncan, you worry the poor lad with talk of Blights and darkspawn. This is a happy day for him."
"We live in troubled times, my friend."
"We should seize the moment of levity, especially in troubled times." Irving then looked at him. "The Harrowing is behind you. Your phylactery was sent to Denerim. You are officially a mage with in the Circle of Magi."
He crossed his arms. "My leash you mean."
"Now, child, it's not that bad," Irving assured.
Duncan raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, what is this phylactery?"
"Blood is taken from all apprentices when they first come to the tower and is preserved in special vials."
Duncan nodded in understatement. "So they can hunt them down and they turn apostate."
"We have few choices. The gift of magic is looked upon with suspicion and fear. We must prove we are strong enough to handle our power responsibly." Irving then looked at him with pride. "You have done this. I present you with your robes, your staff, and a ring bearing the Circle's insignia. Wear them proudly, for you have earned them."
"What happens now?" he asked as Irving presented him with his new equipment.
"Patients, child. You have been through an ordeal. Let us not rush things. It goes without saying you shall not discuss the Harrowing with those who have not undergone the rite. Now, then… take your time to rest, or studying the library. The day is yours."
Daylen nodded. "I will do that."
"I will return to my quarters," said Duncan.
Irving nodded and looked at Daylen. "Would you be so kind to score Duncan back to his room, child?"
"It would be my pleasure."
"The guest quarters are on the east side of the floor, close to the library." He then looked at Duncan. "I believe you're two other recruits out there waiting for you. Now, if you'll both excuse me, I have matters to discuss with Gregoir."
Daylen began to escort Duncan to the guest quarters, he was hoping to have a word with him alone and this was the perfect opportunity.
"Thank you for walking with me. I am glad for the company," said Duncan.
Daylen then looked at him eagerly. "I wanted to talk to you a little more."
"Yes? What about?"
He could barely contain himself. "I wanted to say how honoured I am to meet you."
"I'm flattered. I was not expecting quite so warmer reception."
"I've read many tales about your order," he said trying to keep his excitement under control. "The Grey Wardens are great warriors. I am in awe."
"Being a Grey Warden is a calling. A sacrifice. Our duty is to battle darkspawn wherever they appear. We are elves, humans and dwarves united by this common purpose."
He figured this was the perfect opportunity to see if the rumours were indeed true. "Have there been many darkspawn attacks?"
"A horde has formed with in the Korcair Wilds in the south. If they are not stopped they will strike north into the valley. We Grey Wardens believe that an archdemon is leading the horde."
He had heard tales of the archdemons. "That sounds ominous."
"Darkspawn do attack the sureface in ragtag bands, but archdemons are capable of rallying the darkspawn, turning them into an unstoppable force. A horde of darkspawn… a veritable army. It is dire news indeed. I fear this is what we will have to face."
"And the king is mustering an army to be back this threat?" he asked curiously.
"Yes. Perhaps it will be enough… if we play our cards right."
He then remembered the argument that Irving and Greagoir were having when he entered the room. "Why were Irving and Greagoir arguing about the war?"
"It's not my place to comment." He had a feeling what the argument was about, but he knew that Duncan was the one of the three that would be willing to explain.
"Please, I'd like to know," he begged.
Duncan sighed. "Greagoir serves the Chantry, and the relationship between the Chantry and mages has always been strained. You realise by now that the Chantry merely tolerates magic? They watch only because they feel they must."
He nodded, he guessed that the reason for the argument. "I don't see why the Chantry and mages can't get along."
"The Chantry believes a mage should fear his power. It was pride of mages, they say, that brought the darkspawn upon us in the first place. Any mage who join the king's army can unleash their full power on the darkspawn. In fact, I'm counting on it. Greagoir may be afraid of what will happen. What if the mages decide they no longer want to be governed by the Chantry?"
He crossed his arms. "What are your opinions on the matter?"
"I believe we must defeat the darkspawn, one way or another. My opinions end there."
"How many mages have joined the king's army?" he asked curiously.
"When the king sent out the call, the Circle of Ferelden sent only seven mages to Ostagar. I asked King Cailan's permission to come and seek greater commitment from the Circle."
He frowned and shook his head. "Seven is quite a few."
"I hope to place a mage or two within every contingent. I cannot do with just seven. Mages will make all the difference in this battle. The darkspawn have their own magic, and our resources must exceed theirs."
"Do you think I can join the army?"
"I don't know." He then looked at him curiously. "Do you?"
He sighed. "I doubt I would be allowed to go."
Duncan shook his head. "I sometimes wonder if the Chantry's many laws regarding magic necessary. Darkspawn are a greater threat than blood mages, even abominations. It takes decades for the world to recover from a Blight. I wish the Chantry would see that. We must stop at nothing to defend the darkspawn—" He soon realised he was making a scene. "Ah, listen to me. An old man's rantings can't be very interesting."
He just smiled at him. "I have learned much from what you said."
Duncan chuckled. "You are too kind."
They soon reached the guest quarters and inside Daylen could see two dwarfs. He guessed those two were the recruits Irving had mentioned.
"It has been a pleasure to talk with you and I would talk to you more, but I have duties to attend to."
"Of course, I shouldn't keep you."
He watched her leave before he entered into his quarters.
"I don't get mages," said Sereda as he entered.
"What do you mean?" said Duncan.
"I mean they've got all this power and they can't do anything with it. They just trapped in treated like casteless."
"You know she has a point," Faren spoke up. "And their not as helpless as us, I met one not too long ago and she believes her powers were curse rather than a gift."
Duucan wasn't sure how to explain this to the dwarfs. "It's… complicated."
"Typical, it always comes down to politics," Faren grumbled.
"Anyway, found something you may be interested in," said Sereda walking over to a pile of books.
Duncan looked up. "Oh?"
"There was a warden archive just south of Ostagar. Lots of books and stuff that were probably duplicated elsewhere, an armoury, and this... reference to several treaties that were stored there that give wardens some pull with groups like the dwarves, Dalish, and what do you know, the Circle of Magi?"
"Excellent find. I'd heard a rumour about it, but nothing concrete."
"And look, they have it marked on a map."
Duncan smiled. "Can you make a copy?"
"Already done."
"Good. Perhaps I'll spend some time in the library myself. We'll be on our way in the morning."
"Tell me, was that mage we just saw the recruit you mentioned," said Faren.
"Indeed, the First Enchanter commented on his skills and he suddenly seemed interested of joining."
"Are we recruiting him?"
"We have a day to consider, but yes, I believe he will be coming with us when we leave."
