"I've... heard about the Circle of Magi outside the Imperium, but I've never been in one." Fenris gave Gabriel a concerned look. "Are you certain it's wise for you to be here?"
"Oh, I'm sure nobody will notice little old me, don't you worry." He was carrying a sword, just in case, and his choice of garb was that of a mercenary rather than anything that overtly screamed 'look at me I'm a mage'.
"Very reassuring." Fenris continued looking around. "This seems more like a prison. I wonder if it's more effective than the Circle I know."
"How is the Imperial Circle of Magi different?"
"Once upon a time it was as it is here. The Chantry watched the magisters closely for any signs of corruption or weakness. Then it changed. The magisters were permitted to watch over their own, and templars kept only to enforce the law. What happened next was inevitable. The magisters rule again, as powerful as they ever were."
Gabriel shook his head. "According to everything I've seen, the Circle can't control mages anyhow."
"And what is the alternative? Freedom is a noble ideal, but I see no oppression here. I see fear... and danger. But enough. I'm sure we came here for a reason."
#
He had to ask several of the mages before one could point him in the correct direction. The mage he sought was an older man, with pale eyes. Carver shook his head. "More mages. You talk - I'm going to ask the guards about their training."
Gabriel sighed, then approached the old man. The man spoke before he could. "I know your face. I am Tobrius. You and that man are both Hawkes." He smiled. "I remember your father. Malcolm was a good man."
"My father must have left quite an impression. The letter I found was ancient."
"I needn't tell his own child how special he was. As to the letter, it pained me to send news of the templar's death."
"The templar?" His father had been friends with a templar?
"He allowed your father to leave Kirkwall. 'Rule is not served by caging the best of us.' A wise man."
"Not what I would expect from a templar."
"There was a time when the rules of the Order could be... interpreted to suit a situation. Unlike these days. I will send the letters I held. It seems fitting that they return to family."
#
He stood with Fenris, looking over some amulets. He still needed to get to Sundermount, and take care of his debt to the witch. It was several minutes before the mage returned.
Tobrius handed him a stack of letters. "Such a friendship. Few like your father remain. Even fewer like the templar. Rest well at the Maker's side, Ser Maurevar Carver."
#
At the house, and he used the term loosely, Gabriel read through the letters. Then he went looking for his brother. "Here, I got you something."
Carver gave him a suspicious look. "Why?"
Gabriel sighed. "I'm not holding you back with generosity. Just have a look."
Carver began to glance over the letters. "These are by Father? Are you sure they aren't meant for you? I bet another mage could get more out of them."
He snatched the letters out of his brother's hand, put the one he deemed most interesting on top, then handed the entire pile back. His finger tapped the relevant passage. Carver glance at it, then began to read aloud. "For your service that cannot be admitted, I ask that you accept this trinket, and know that I shall respect your name. Thank you, conscience of the order, Ser Maurevar..." Carver was silent for a moment. "Carver." He looked up at Gabriel. "Carver?"
"The templar who allowed Father to leave Kirkwall. Your namesake." He walked over to gaze into the fireplace.
"A templar?" Carver walked over to stand next to him. "Have we met a templar who isn't a colossal prig?"
He elbowed Carver. "Well, there you go then."
Carver punched him in the arm. "I wonder how it compares to yours."
He caught Carver in a headlock and began messing his hair. "I'm sure someone thought far too long about my name. Point is, this was a swordsman."
Carver managed to hold up the letters. "A man who let him look ahead. It would always mean 'skill thoughtfully applied'." Carver stuck his leg between Gabriel's and pushed sideways, sending Gabriel to the ground and getting himself free. He stood, and then set the letters carefully on the table. "Not exactly 'master of all blades', but..." As Gabriel started to stand, Carver tackled him. "Father actually thought there was worth to a swordsman."
Gabriel twisted, nearly managing to pin Carver. Carver managed to buck enough to off-balance him, but wasn't able to reverse the pin. They continued until Carver's shoulder hit the washstand, spilling the bowl full of water on both of them.
Carver laughed. "Thank you, Brother. It's... a connection I didn't think was there."
They both sat up, and looked around the room they'd effectively destroyed. "Odds or evens?" Gabriel asked.
"Evens." They began the gesture game to see who'd clean it up.
#
He found Varric at the Hanged Man. With the exception of dignity and decent booze, you could find almost anything at the Hanged Man. Varric was pacing around the table in his room. "So, here's the thing: we need to find a way into the Deep Roads." He glanced up. "Bartrand can lead us to the right place once we're down there, but we need a good entrance."
"Any entrance would do, wouldn't it?" Gabriel considered a moment. "Unless a dragon's sitting in it, I suppose." Dragons were becoming something of an issue these days. Even the ones that didn't turn into witch ladies. He still had that amulet.
"We need an entrance that's close to our destination but isn't already plundered or filled with darkspawn." Varric leaned over the table. "Fortunately, I've received some new information. There's a Grey Warden in the city. If anyone knows how to get down there, it'll be him."
"Sounds like you have it all planned out, Varric."
Varric gave him a small bow. "And that, messere, is why I'm here." He shrugged. "Supposedly, this Grey Warden came in with some other Ferelden refugees not long ago. A Lowtown woman named Lirene has been helping the Fereldens. We talk to her, maybe we learn where he is. I'll keep after my contacts - see if I can drum up any other work."
#
"I've seen some of your abilities. Do they come from those markings?" Gabriel moved his piece on the board.
"Some." Fenris moved a piece to counter. "All I know is that, even in the Imperium, warriors such as myself are rare. Perhaps they believe I should feel honored?"
"They do seem rather foolish." He captured one of Fenris's pieces, removing it from the board.
Fenris's lips twitched. "You are skilled for a mage not of the Circle."
"My father was skilled. He taught my sister and I."
"I have not met your sister."
Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment. "We fled the Blight to get here. She didn't make it."
"I... am sorry. I did not mean to..." Fenris looked a bit flustered.
He shook his head. "I know." He sighed. "At least Mother has finally stopped blaming me."
"Care for another glass of wine?"
Gabriel frowned down at the board. "I think I've had enough. Yours in two moves."
Fenris smiled. "I am growing fond of this game."
#
"Varric, no."
"You're the captain, or you will be. It'll be easy."
"I'm not petitioning the viscount to help you steal ownership of the Hanged Man."
"Steal? Madam, you wound me."
"I'm about to." She gestured for Varric to get out. The dwarf winked at him when he passed.
Aveline might not have caught the gesture, but she did narrow her eyes at him suspiciously. He, Carver, and Varric had been taking turns coming to her with absurd criminal activities. Well, mostly absurd. He thought Carver's idea of having Gamlen officially declared a public nuisance had merit. "Big changes are coming, huh? Captain of the guard." She sat on the edge of her desk. "Thank you, Wesley."
The joke died on his lips. "That you keep his memory speaks well of him."
"He's not with me. I know that. Wesley's at the Maker's side, or he's not. Either way, he knows no pain." She met his eyes. "What I keep is that moment. I won't let anyone down like that again."
He still saw Bethany every time he closed his eyes. "I don't see how you can take the blame for the darkspawn horde."
"I put him to the sword myself, Hawke."
"Well, there is that." He came over and sat beside her.
"I know in my head that it was right. So did Wesley. But in my heart, that cut was cruel."
"You clearly miss Wesley, but that's not the issue?"
"Or course I miss him, but he's not coming back. Pining like a child serves no one. So I remember him, but I let him rest."
As he let Bethany rest. Sometimes. "You're not so kind to yourself, though."
"No."
He elbowed her lightly. "I could get used to having the law on my side."
She elbowed him back. "You'll behave yourself, is what you'll do. I just sent Jeven to prison over corruption. I won't go the same road."
He sighed. "You never let me have any fun."
"I think that's best for everyone."
"I look forward to working with you, Guard-Captain Aveline."
"Still strange, isn't it?" She smiled. "Captain of the guard. Thank you for helping me get here, Hawke. It's where I should be."
He grinned at her, and then started to walk away. Then he snapped his fingers. "Ah, I forget. I did have a reason to drop in other than pestering you." He handed her a piece of parchment. "One of the bandits that tried to rob me last night was carrying that."
"Well now, that is interesting. The location of their base." She grinned. "Shall we call on them tonight?"
He put a hand over his heart. "Why, Aveline, I thought you'd never ask."
#
They found Lirene's shop. It was full of the desperate, seeking aid. A few of the faces looked vaguely familiar, though he saw no one from Lothering. A woman who must be Lirene looked up as they entered. "If you're seeking aid, leave your name with my girl. We serve everyone here - no one came from Ferelden without trouble." She gave him and his companions another look. "But I can't give priority to anyone who's already found work and lodging."
"Is there a way I can assist these people?"
"If you've coin to spare, we won't turn it down. Donations go in the box up front."
"I hear you know where I can find a Fereldan Grey Warden."
"Only Fereldan Grey Wardens I know of are sitting on the throne. We're out of the Blight's path now. Why would you need a Warden?"
A gray haired woman spoke up. "The healer was one of them once, wasn't he? A Warden?"
"Well, he's not now. And busy enough without answering fool questions about it."
"Then I'll only ask very smart questions," Gabriel said.
Lirene narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms. "I do not joke, serah." She gestured at the room. "You see what our people face in Kirkwall. They have no jobs, no homes. Most can barely buy bread. The healer, he serves them without thought for coin. He's closed their wounds, delivered their children."
Aveline frowned. "And yet he needs to hide?"
"He's a good man. I won't lose him to the blighted templars."
Gabriel blinked. "You mean he's a mage?"
"Would I stick my neck out for some purveyor of hensbane and leeches?" She glared.
"Oh, perish the thought. Another delicate mage flower." Carver just shook his head."
"He doesn't want to be locked in the Gallows just for using the gifts the Maker gave him."
"I can hardly blame him." It was exactly the fate he was trying to avoid.
"I suppose it isn't my secret to keep. Anders has certainly been free enough with his services. Refugees in Darktown know - to find the healer, look for the lit lantern. If you have need enough, Anders will be within."
They stopped at the donation box on the way out. He threw in a sovereign, and was pleasantly surprised to see Carver, Aveline, and Varric all do the same thing.
#
They'd made it only a few steps before being accosted by armed men. "Hey! We heard you in there. Asking about the healer." The speaker narrowed his eyes. "We know what happens to mages in this town. And it ain't gonna happen to him."
It was Carver who stepped forward. "You want him safe? Don't pick fights with other Fereldans while the templars are after us all."
The man blinked, then sheathed his blades. "Fereldan? But... you, your clothes." He shrugged. "I figured you for a Kirkwaller. Sorry." He gave a small bow. "Maker bless the rule of our King Alistair and Queen Cathiel." The armed men walked away.
Gabriel sent his brother a look. Carver pointedly didn't meet his eyes, but the look on his brother's face was incorrigibly smug. Next mud puddle they passed, Carver was going in.
#
"I'm surprised you still travel with us, Aveline."
Aveline sighed. "Carver, don't."
"You're ever so busy with the guardsmen. It must be a burden to slum with the refugees." Carver kicked a rock.
"It's oddly comforting that you insult me like I'm family."
"That wasn't... no, I didn't mean that."
"I know. But you should be glad that's how I took it."
Gabriel chuckled, earning himself a glare from his brother. "Aveline, that reminds me. Brennan is on the list."
"List of..." She sighed. "What happened?"
"I was walking through Hightown, minding my own business..." Aveline snorted. Gabriel rolled his eyes and continued, "She and Maecon were doing fine until a half dozen more came around the corner. I only helped a little." He shrugged. "I like Brennan."
"She left your presence out of her report entirely." Aveline nodded. "Thank you, Hawke."
#
It took a few minutes to find the lit lantern. Gabriel held his hand up to halt the others. A blond man was standing over a child, his fingers glowing with the white light of a healing spell while the child's parents looked on anxiously. The child gasped, and sat up. Immediately the woman threw her arms around him and began to sob. The healer staggered slightly, and the father went to help him. After a moment, the healer stood up straight, and waved the man away. The family left.
Gabriel waited a moment, and then entered. The healer grabbed a staff and whirled around. "I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation. Why do you threaten it?"
Rather than go for his own weapon, Gabriel tilted his head to the side. "Strange occupation for a Warden. Aren't you more about taint and death, not healing and salvation?"
The healer relaxed only slightly. "Did the Wardens send you to bring me back?" He gestured. "I'm not going. Those bastards made me get rid of my cat." He shook his head. "Poor Ser Pounce-a-lot. He hated the Deep Roads."
"You had a cat named Ser Pounce-a-lot? In the Deep Roads?"
A defensive look came over the healer's face. "He was a gift. A noble beast." He smiled fondly. "Almost got ripped in half by a genlock once. He swatted the bugger on the nose. Drew blood, too." He sighed. "The blighted Wardens said he 'made me too soft.' I had to give him to a friend in Amaranthine."
Gabriel opened his mouth to ask about the cat and heard Aveline cough pointedly. He changed his question. "So you came to Kirkwall just to escape the Wardens?"
"You say that like it's a small thing." He shrugged. "Yes, I'm here because there's no Warden outpost, no darkspawn, and a whole host of refugees to blend in with." He looked away. "And some reasons of my own."
"I'm part of an expedition into the Deep Roads. Any information you have could save people's lives."
"I will die a happy man if I never think about the blighted Deep Roads again." He gestured dismissively. "You can't imagine what I've come through to get here. I'm not interested..." Anders gave him a considering look. "Although... a favor for a favor. Does that sound like a fair deal? You help me, I'll help you?"
"Let's be more specific. I don't do anything involving children or animals."
"I have a Warden map of the depths in this area. But there's a price. I came to Kirkwall to aid a friend. A mage. A prisoner in the wretched Gallows. The templars learned of my plans to free him. Help me bring him safely past them, and you shall have your maps."
Gabriel glanced back at the others. Both Aveline and Carver looked unhappy. He sighed. "Tell me about your friend."
"His name is Karl Thekla. He was sent here from Ferelden when Kirkwall's Circle required new talent. His last letter said the knight-commander was turning the Circle into a prison. Mages are locked in their cells, refused appearances at court, made Tranquil for the slightest crimes. I told him I would come."
"Are these accusations true?" He'd heard the rumors himself, and heard them too often to simply discount them out of hand.
"Ask any mage in Kirkwall. Over a dozen were made Tranquil just this year. The more people you ask, the worse the rumors become."
"You want to make your friend an apostate?"
"That's such a weighted term." Anders shook his head and gestured. "Yes, Andraste said magic should serve man, not rule him. But I've yet to find a mage who wants to rule anything. It goes against no will of the Maker for mages to live as free as other men."
He had a point. "Forcing mages into servitude is not the way to prevent the rise of another Imperium."
Anders blinked, and then smiled. "That's not usually the response I get. Perhaps we will work together better than I expected."
Gabriel glanced at his companions again. The risk went further than just him. If he came to the templars attention... "I'm not sure about attacking templars. I might rather take my chances with the darkspawn."
"If we fight the templars, it is because they decide that anyone who befriends a mage deserves death without questioning."
And that was precisely the problem. Carver shook his head. "Doesn't fighting them prove their point? They don't need more reasons to hunt us."
"These are my terms. If you want my aid with your expedition, meet me in the chantry tonight. I have sent word to Karl to be there. Maker willing, we will all leave free men." Anders went to go assist other patients.
The others followed Gabriel outside. He met Aveline's eyes. "You can't be part of this."
"Hawke..." She started to give him a disapproving look.
"I mean it, Aveline. Besides, if this goes wrong, somebody is going to have to get Carver out of jail."
"Brother..."
"Actually, Aveline, could you just go ahead and arrest Carver right now?"
Aveline let out a small laugh. "I don't think he'll come along quietly."
"What if I knock him in the head for you?"
"You and what army?" Carver said, setting his face into stubborn lines.
"Varric?"
"We need those maps." He hefted Bianca. "I'm in."
#
Fenris wasn't thrilled at the idea of freeing a mage, but he agreed to help anyway. He did, however, spend the entire walk to the Chantry helping Carver try to talk him out of the job. Even getting jumped by another group of brigands didn't stop them.
"Look, we could always just hit the guy over the head and take the maps," Carver said.
"And end up with half of Darktown out for our blood?" Gabriel shook his head. "The templars are already after us."
"And you think bloodying their noses is going to improve that situation?" Fenris asked.
"My point was that it isn't going to actively make the situation worse." He stripped one of the brigands of valuables. "Besides, with the trouble we keep finding, would having a healer in our debt really be a bad thing?"
"An apostate," Fenris said.
"He's a Warden, so, technically, not an apostate," Varric said.
"I'm sure the templars will care about that technicality," Carver said.
Gabriel sighed. "You know, neither of you actually has to come along."
Carver narrowed his eyes. Fenris actually looked insulted.
#
Anders was waiting for them at the Chantry door. If he noticed the glares of Carver and Fenris, he gave no sign of it. "I saw Karl go inside a few minutes ago. No templars so far." He looked Gabriel over. "Are you ready?"
"I didn't see anyone suspicious out here." Well, other than himself, Carver, Fenris, Varric, and Anders. "Let's do this fast."
"All right. I'll handle the talking. You watch for templars."
Watch for templars. Right. He could do that.
Anders pushed open the door. "When we find Karl, just let me talk to him."
They found Karl on the upper level, facing the wall as if examining the tapestry. When he spoke, his voice was odd. "Anders. I know you too well. I knew you would never give up."
Gabriel felt a chill go down his spine. He glanced at Anders, and saw the other mage's face was pale. "What's wrong? Why are you talking like-" Anders cut off with a gasp as Karl turned around.
The sunburst brand stood out freshly on Karl's forehead. "I was too rebellious. Like you. The templars knew I had to be... made an example of."
"No," Anders said.
"How else will mages ever master themselves? You'll understand, Anders." Doors clicked open as templars began to emerge from their hiding places. "As soon as the templars teach you to control yourself." Karl gestured at Anders. "This is the apostate."
"No." Anders suddenly began to shake, and then blue light shown from his eyes as he reached for his staff. His voice changed, deepening and resonating. "You will never take another mage as you took him."
The templars moved to attack. In for a penny, in for a pound. Gabriel sent a spray of ice to the left before twirling his staff and calling down fire. On either side of him, Fenris and Carver used their blades, preventing the templars from getting near enough to use their abilities against him. Varric kept up fire from Bianca. And Anders... well... he'd think about that later. After several glasses of something very alcoholic.
#
"I- Anders, what did you do?" Karl's voice sounded almost normal. Desperate and confused, but almost normal. "It's like... you brought a piece of the Fade into this world." Karl shook his head. "I had already forgotten what that feels like."
Gabriel gestured for Carver and Varric to strip the templars of valuables. Fenris ignored the instruction and moved to stand at his shoulder, his eyes watching Anders carefully. Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Anders. "What did you do? Not the Fade part - the angry glowing bit." His hand twitched towards his staff, wanting to call down a spell against the other mage.
"It's like a gateway to the Fade inside you." Karl was staring. "Glowing like a beacon."
"I have... some unique circumstances, yes. But, Karl, what happened? How did they get you?"
"The templars here are far more vigilant than in Ferelden. They found a letter I was writing you..." Karl's voice was bleak. "You cannot imagine it, Anders. All the color, all the music in the world, gone. I would gladly give up my magic, but this? I'll never be whole again." He held up a beseeching hand. "Please, kill me before I forget again! I don't know how you brought it back, but it's fading."
"Karl, no -"
Gabriel looked away a moment. It was like staring at his worst nightmare. He found his voice. "I would rather die than be Tranquil. Help him." If Anders couldn't, he would.
"I got here too late," Anders said. "I'm sorry, Karl. I'm so sorry."
"Now," Karl said, practically begging. "It's fading..." His voice changed. "Why do you look at me like that?"
"Goodbye," Ander said, and drove the knife up under Karl's ribcage. He turned to them. "We should leave before more templars come."
#
"So, let me guess." Gabriel followed Anders into the infirmary. "This is the part where you tell me you're an abomination?"
Anders sighed. "You're wrong. But not far wrong." He shook his head. "I... this is hard to explain. When I was in Amaranthine, I met a spirit of Justice who was trapped outside the Fade. We became friends. And he recognized the injustice that mages in Thedas face every day."
"So, you have this spirit of justice living in your head?"
"It's not like that. He's gone now. He's a part of me." Anders' voice held a note of regret. "It's not like we can... have a conversation. I feel his thoughts as my own. Not even the greatest scholar could tell you where I end and he begins."
Gabriel sighed. "That really didn't look like a happy, benevolent spirit from where I was standing."
"The templars will think the same." Carver shook his head. "We're friends with a monster."
"Since when is justice happy?" Anders gestured. "Justice is righteous. Justice is hard."
"Of course," Fenris said. "No harm ever comes from good intentions, even when magic is involved." He had a sneaking suspicion the elf was being sarcastic.
Anders slumped. "Normally I would argue that. I wanted to do well by Justice, I really did." He leaned on the pillar. "But my anger... when I see templars now, things that have always outraged me, but I could never do anything about... He comes out. And he is no longer my friend Justice. He is a force of vengeance. And he has no grasp of mercy."
Gabriel sighed. "This is obviously difficult for you."
"For him?" Carver stared. "We'll be hunted for sure now."
"I thought I was helping my friend. He would have..." Anders shook his head. "Died, I guess. If that even means anything. And he wanted to help me. He knew what mages have suffered."
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Gabriel asked. He could practically feel Carver's disapproving eyes.
Anders smiled. "You're the first one I've ever told this. Thank you for not running away. My maps are yours. As am I, if you wish me to join your expedition." He stood up straight. "I thought I was done with the Grey Wardens, but if you have any need of me... I will be waiting here."