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Prompt: First
Empty Eyes
Anders is not quite thirteen when he meets his first Tranquil mage. He is exploring the Tower one afternoon when he is supposed to be in his beginning Primal class (he hates that class – full of kids five, six, seven years younger than him and teachers who never bother to conceal their contempt for him, as though he is in a class for six year olds because he's stupid, not because his damned magic had waited until he twelve to manifest...) when he manages to stumble into the second floor stockroom and run – quite literally – into Owain. The Tranquil stares down at him with empty eyes, sunburst brand on his forehead a vivid red against pale skin. Just the sight of him standing there, stiff and uncomfortable and utterly uncaring, sets Anders' teeth on edge with the wrongness of it. Then Owain begins to speak, explains the concept of Tranquility in all its gruesome glory, and Anders has to sprint to the nearest privy to avoid sicking up all over Owain's shoes. Not that he would care (cut off from the Fade, no dreams, no emotions, preferable to the Harrowing). Anders shudders as he rinses out his mouth, water sloshing down the front of his robes when his hands shake too hard to hold it. This is – there are no words for how much a violation this is. How do the templars get away with... with that? What possible rationalization could there be to strip a person of everything they are?
He can't stay here, he realizes then, can't stay in a place where Tranquility is considered a solution, where the threat of having his very being torn away from him hangs over his head every single day. He can't.
That night, Anders doesn't sleep. He lies awake in his bunk and listens to the soft sounds of his fellow apprentices, the beginnings of an escape plan simmering in his brain. He will not stay here. He cannot.