Meredith couldn't focus on her shift. The reality of Maud's death wouldn't leave her mind.

She tried to tell herself that it could have been worse. She had seen worse. At least only one person had died this time.

That wasn't good enough. Meredith's duty was to protect people from mages, including the mages themselves. If only she had gotten to that closet sooner. She could have put Maud under the careful watch of the Chantry sisters. Worst case scenario, Maud would have been made tranquil. But at least she wouldn't be dead.

This wasn't personal. It couldn't be personal. Maud was just one mage. Just one life. Just one more life she let slip carelessly through her fingers.

Maybe it was a little personal. She couldn't get the image of the empty closet out of her mind-the scorch marks being the only sign of what had happened. The destruction wasn't as bad as what happened to Amelia, but the lack of destruction continued to haunt her.

Meredith looked down at the book in her hand; the one Maud loaned to her. What was she supposed to do with this now? It didn't feel right to just give it away to the Circle's library, but she certainly didn't want to keep it. Realistically speaking, the book would be sent back to Maud's family. Meredith's fingers gripped the book tighter. Her stomach churned at the thought of the young mage's family receiving the news. A young girl was dead because of magic. Meredith became a templar to ensure that no one else would suffer the same loss she experienced. What kind of templar was she?

Her shift ended near the chapel set up on the far side of the Gallows. It was nowhere near as grand as the actual Chantry, but little corner provided the mages and templars with a convenient place to pray. Or hide.

Meredith moved between the rows of benches, keeping her eyes open for any signs of trouble. Her search came to a stop when she reached the front of the altar.

Orsino was sprawled out on the floor, staring up at the bronze statue of Andraste that loomed over them.

She frowned and stepped closer to him.

"That's an...interesting position to pray in."

"I'm not praying," Orsino's voice just barely vibrated past his lips. "Just thinking."

The mage sat up on the cold stone floor, reclining his neck against one of the benches behind him. His face was an expressionless mask, but his vivid green eyes were bloodshot. He looked as if he had aged decades since she last saw him.

The sorrow Meredith felt couldn't have been anything compared to what was racing through Orsino's mind. Her throat went dry. She thought back to the moment Ser Wentworth first held his hand out to her-the moment she became a templar. She remembered Wentworth carefully explaining the tragic events that just took place. She remembered crying into his armored shoulder. She remembered how he gave her a brief distraction by letting her swing his sword a few times. She had lost everyone she ever knew and cared for, but she didn't have to be alone.

This was part of a templar's job too. She had to comfort him. But what was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? Her mind went back to that tragic day in the cellar. What did she want after she witnessed that horrible tragedy?

Meredith reached out and gently patted the top of Orsino's head.

Orsino's hollow expression morphed into one of confusion, and he looked up at her.

"Did you just pet me like a dog?"

Meredith snatched her hand back.

"Sorry."

Meredith didn't know what else to say, but she couldn't leave the mage unattended. In a careful move, she sat down next to him. Through the corner of her eye, she saw Orsino's brow knot in confusion again, but he said nothing.

The silence between them was eating her up at first, but soon she discovered a certain calmness to it. Meredith kept her eyes fixed on the bronze statue, watching her reflection distort itself in the polished surface. Maybe she didn't have to say anything. Maybe to the mage, just having another person in the room was enough.

"Do you need something?" Orsino's voice sliced through the silence.

Meredith was taken aback, and without thinking responded with the first words that came to her mind.

"I'm sorry for your loss. She's at the Maker's side now."

Orsino looked up at her, a scowl forming on his face.

"Everyone is sorry. But are you, really?"

Meredith knew her words were painfully predictable, but she was still stunned by Orsino's reaction. With an exhausted sigh, he rolled his eyes and turned away from her.

"Everything the Chantry had taught me says otherwise," his tone was quiet, but biting. "The Chantry taught us that we're cursed. The Chantry also taught us that anyone who takes their own life will not be welcome to join the Maker's side."

Meredith felt her face burn with shame.

"Look, I didn't…"

"She hated her life here so much that she would risk eternity in the Void just to escape," Orsino's voice trembled as he struggled to choke out the rest of his words. "And I couldn't do anything to help her."

Orsino's voice became incomprehensible through his heavy sobbing, although at this point it came off more like dry heaving.

Meredith's hands clenched into fists against the stone floor. She couldn't bring herself to feel angry at the mage. In a sense, she understood him. She had these same thoughts, although she made sure to bury them in the depths of her mind.

Orsino's body was shaking as he clawed his fingers through his dark hair. Words alone couldn't help him. But she couldn't just leave him there. Mages and strong emotions don't usually end well.

Taking a deep breath, Meredith held Maud's book out to him.

"Here," she kept her gaze to the floor. "It was hers."

Orsino looked up, his eyes widening.

"Why do you…"

"She loaned it to me," Meredith's fingers tightened around the weathered spine of the book. "You should have it."

Orsino took the book from her hands without saying a word. The book trembled as he flipped through the pages. When he reached the note scribbled on the inside cover, his lip quivered and his eyes became glazed over with fresh tears.

"Why did it have to be her?" he pressed his forehead against the book, leaving his voice muffled. "Why would The Maker allow her to be a mage? She didn't deserve this."

Meredith chewed at her lower lip as she stared up at the bronze statue.

"There are moments when our faith is tested," her low voice was almost drowned out by Orsino's shuddering breaths. "But we must remember that the Maker has a plan for all of us."

"Forgive me if this is out of line," Orsino slumped against the bench, placing the book on his lap. "But I don't see how a templar's words are supposed to make me feel better."

The shame Meredith felt burned even hotter. Maker, she was just making this worse. But what was she supposed to do? She thought back to the day when she first met Wentworth. She was left scared and alone by the tragedy that had just occurred. The knight captain reassured her that everything would be okay. When he reached out to her in that cellar, it was like the Maker Himself was offering her His hand. Someone all-powerful who could dry her tears and tell her that everything would be okay-that is what she wanted.

But not everyone wants that. She remembered the brief moments when she allowed herself to talk about her family with Maud and how much she missed them. Maud wasn't a powerful knight captain who reassured her that everything would be okay. She was someone who was feeling something similar to her. She was someone who made her feel less alone in her mind.

Meredith closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and said the words she had never spoken to anyone other than Wentworth:

"My older sister was an apostate."

Orsino sat up straighter against the bench, confusion morphing onto his face.

"What?"

Meredith nodded, the memories already causing tears to prickle in her eyes. Her body tensed up as she struggled to find the words to the horrible incident she never had to describe to anyone else before.

"My family hid her from the templars. We thought she wouldn't be able to handle living in the Circle. But we didn't know how to handle a mage," some strands from Meredith's ponytail fell free, obscuring her face. "She couldn't control her powers. Our neighbors notified the templars."

Meredith held her head in her hand, digging her nails into the skin on her forehead. She tried to come off as controlled and stoic as a templar should be. But she couldn't stop the rest of her words tumbling out of her mouth between choked breaths.

"Amelia was so scared when she saw the templars," she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, not even able to register the shame of crying in front of a mage. "She ran into the kitchen to hide, but when she came out…"

Meredith couldn't continue. Just revisiting the memory was horrible enough on its own. But no words could properly describe the dreadful sight of her older sister twisting and distorting into that horrible creature. She knew she couldn't talk about the deaths without bursting into tears at the memory of her parents screaming for their lives behind her as she ran.

"Seventy people," Meredith strained to control her breathing, desperately trying to return her voice to its normal level state. "Seventy people were killed by the abomination before the templars…"

Once again, she couldn't finish. But this time she felt that there was no need for her to do so. The memory was so overpowering that for a moment she forgot she was telling her story to a mage. Humiliation flowed through her. Through the veil of her messy blonde hair, she looked up at Orsino.

It was hard to interpret his expression through her bangs and her blurred vision, but it looked like a combination of pity and extreme discomfort.

"That's…" the mage picked at the hems of his sleeves. "I...I'm sorry, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say."

Meredith felt completely exposed and the shame of sharing such a personal story made her want to pass out.

"I'm not going to try to pretend that I know how you feel," her fingers twisted against the cold floor. "But after I lost my family, there was a part of me that wanted to know that I wasn't alone. You don't have to be alone with your loss."

Orsino shook his head, rubbing his brow with a trembling hand.

"I just don't understand how you don't question your faith after experiencing something like that."

Meredith sagged her shoulders.

"I do. Almost every day."

Orsino looked up at her in shock.

"Are you serious? But you've always seemed like the ideal templar."

"The knight captain told me that it's okay to question your faith, but remembering the Maker's path for you can help you be strong. Even when you're at your lowest."

Orsino's gaze fell back down to the stone floor,

"I can't imagine the Maker's plan being any good. What am I supposed to take from this? That we mages are destined to have empty lives with no hope? That I should expect to lose everyone I care for?"

"I became a templar because I didn't want anyone to lose their family to magic the same way I did. I wanted to make up for the times when I was not strong enough to help," Meredith leaned her head back against the pews. "Perhaps something similar will happen with you. It won't bring her back, but her memory can still inspire you."

Meredith knew that if Wentworth was the one speaking to the mage, his words would be a lot more natural and comforting. Her heart and gut clenched like a tight fist as she watched for Orsino's reaction.

He sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

"She always believed I could do something good for the Circle."

Meredith nodded stiffly and stood up.

"But take your time to grieve. That's just as important," she extended a hand to him. "Come. I need to finish my patrol and I can't leave you unsupervised in here."

"Just give me a moment," Orsino closed his eyes. "I need to think."

Meredith knew she should have refused his request, but she couldn't bring herself to do so.

"All right. But don't be long."

"Here," he held the book back out to her. "I can't keep this. It doesn't feel right."

Meredith wanted to protest, but she nodded and took the book from his hands before turning around to leave the room.

As she moved to return to the hall, Orsino's voice called out to her.

"Meredith?"

Meredith stopped in her tracks and turned around.

The mage was still seated on the floor in front of the altar, a look of desperation painted across his face.

"Does it ever get easier?" his voice trembled. "Will I ever feel normal again?"

Meredith thought back to the nights lying awake in her cot, her mind plagued by the lyrium-induced nightmares. She thought about the pain in her chest that she felt whenever she remembered her sister twisting into that monstrosity. She thought about how that horrible day would replay in her head whenever she dressed in her templar armor, reminding her of her path.

It would have been easy to give Orsino a comfortable lie. But it wasn't right.

"You're going to feel different from now on. Every day, you're going to feel like something inside of you is missing," she bowed her head, her hair obstructing her face. "But it might get easier, but only because you will be stronger."

If Orsino gave a response, she didn't hear it. She hurried out of the room and into the hall. An exasperated sigh escaped her lungs as she pressed her forehead against the rough stone wall. Her fingers trailed across the Templar insignia adorning the front of her armor.

Meredith didn't become a templar for any sort of personal gain.

And at that moment, with her head pressed against the wall, an aching in her chest, and a sobbing mage in the other room, personal gain was the furthest thing from her mind.

End of part 1, woo.

I don't know when I'll start posting part 2. We'll see.