Galyan approached the dining hall with leaden steps, but he went. He would much rather have remained in the rune forge and napped, but routine must be preserved.
Long ago, after a period of neglect that he blamed for a failed Harrowing, he resolved to devote a portion of every day to each apprentice so that he might help build the trust and the confidence that would enable his apprentices to survive. There were days when the communication was superficial, and there were times when he believed that his apprentices hid as much as they revealed, but that was a natural part of the process. Through familiarity, he learned to tell when they were anxious about their replies, and that told him more about their lives than they ever would have volunteered.
But dialogue with Stephanie was taxing, and Galyan was already weary.
They found Janelle sitting in the corner with another girl, solemnly dividing a shared lunch of bread, cheese and apples. They had been talking quietly over their selections, but both fell silent at his approach.
"If you break the last slice in half, you'll both get to be generous," Galyan said, smiling as Janelle's mop-headed friend grew wide-eyed at his arrival.
"I didn't want to be greedy, ser," she squeaked.
"I know, child," he said. "We usually have lunch together, Janelle, but I would not like to discourage such eager sharing. Why don't you eat with your friend today, and we can begin our routine tomorrow?"
"I won't get in trouble?" the timid apprentice asked.
"You won't get in trouble," he said. "And you'll always be able to join your friends for breakfast and dinner. I also like to meet with my apprentices individually every day, but the times depend on your classes. Kerian will tell you where and when before you go to your first class."
"How come she gets to be your assistant?" Stephanie sulked.
"She's older," Galyan said. "Once Kerian is Harrowed, it will be your turn, but don't be in too much of a hurry. There's a lot of messages to carry."
"If you spread them around, there wouldn't be so many," Stephanie pointed out.
"There are drawbacks," he said. "You'd have to eat breakfast with me every day."
"Good point," she said.
"How much longer do we have to wait?" Evard asked. "I'm starving, and the line is getting long.."
"Alright, alright," Galyan consented. "And, Janelle, if you want to talk to me at any time, the matron will know where to find me. Enjoy your lunch."
"B-bye, Senior 'Galyan," Janelle replied and went back to chatting with her friend as he had never hailed her in the first place.
Under current policy, the Circle was forbidden to assemble… but that prohibition was relaxed at mealtimes. They tried enforcing the ban even then, serving food from long side boards and shooing people back to their dormitories to eat, but it did not last long. The staff soon grew weary of scouring the tower for the plates and bowls absent-minded mages left in every conceivable cranny, and before the week was out, the dining hall was in use once more. These days, they served breakfast immediately after Chapter - brief, technically-illicit meetings where the leaders of each fraternity disseminated relevant information to its members - and dinner after sundown. Lunch was a less formal affair. Bread, fruit, pickled vegetables, and cheese or eggs were simply set out for the mages to serve themselves. Left to his own devices, Galyan would not bother, but it was a good time to meet with his apprentices to discuss issues that affected them as a group.
Today, Galyan was not even remotely hungry, despite sleeping through breakfast. His back throbbed, and the thought of food made him nauseous, but his apprentices were growing children and needed more regular feeding. He was surprised and put off by the plate Kerian thrust into his hands.
"Kerian, stop," he said firmly. "I do not need my apprentice to tell me when to eat."
"Then fill your plate yourself," she said, selecting an orange and placing it on the wooden trencher. "You need to eat if you're going to get better."
He allowed himself to be corrected and offered no protest as she added some bread and a slice of cheese. If he did not eat it, Evard would be glad of the extra helping. The boy was entering his first growth spurt, and his appetite was insatiable.
"Let's eat in the courtyard," he said. "It's warmer than it was before, and some sunshine will do us all good."
The courtyard where the rune forge was situated was normally off-limits to apprentices or to mages not bound for the forge. The templar presence was lighter there, and it was felt that the opportunity for mischief was too great. Happily, their assignment to the forge gave them leave to use it at will, and Galyan did not intend to pass up a single opportunity to be out in the open air. That was the thing he liked least about his promotion. Before he was elevated to the rank of enchanter, he seldom spent two days together within the walls of the tower. Now, he went months at a time without seeing the sun or clouds. Except for Kerian, his apprentices had known no other life, so they did not miss it as keenly as he did.
Stephanie and Evard wolfed their food and were soon bored of their elders' slower pace. Evard excused himself first, only to go off in search of a slug, which he dropped down the back of Stephanie's robes. She squealed and took off after him, chasing him across the flagstones. Galyan smiled and left them to it. They seldom had the chance to be children.
Kerian was more difficult to shake off. He loved Aislin almost as much as his own mother, but he cursed her for setting the girl against him. She was relentless.
"I can peel my own blighted orange!" he protested. "There's a difference between healers' competence and smothering, and you are definitely on the wrong side of the line."
"Forgive the intrusion," said an oddly flat voice behind them, "but one of your apprentices dropped a jewel in the forge."
They turned to discover that Gabriel had crept up on them. He had donned a tunic and cloak against the chill of the courtyard, and extended a glittering golden earring in the palm of his hand.
"Maker's breath, I thought I fixed that!" Kerian exclaimed, her hands flying to her earlobes to check.
"It pleases me to return it," the young man said, though his voice was incapable of expressing joy or any other emotion.
"Er… thank you," Kerian said, and plucked the earring carefully from his hand. Alte's former apprentice bowed and retreated toward the dining hall. Tranquility did not negate the need for sustenance.
"You seem uncomfortable around him," Galyan remarked. "Is it because you knew him before?"
"I… knew him."
"And? It's sad, but it's a truth we must face. Some of our friends will not survive their Harrowing, and others will never be offered the chance to prove themselves. It's the way things have been for almost a millennia."
"We weren't friends," she said tersely, crossing her arms and looking anywhere but at him.
"Was he rude to you in some way?" he asked, his brow creasing in confusion. "I'm having a hard time imagining Gabriel disrespecting anyone."
"It's more that I was rude to him," Kerian admitted, her cheeks flushing. "He asked me to attend Senior Gervais's lecture on fungi of the Anderfels with him and I turned him down. I was blunt, and he was disappointed."
"But you attended that lecture! I distinctly remember falling asleep and drooling on your shoulder. And again, I apologize."
"I attended it with you."
She spoke without drama or hesitation. There was no emphasis or significant pause. Her tone was as matter-of-fact as if she had said "Water flows downhill," but her words hit him like a blow to the abdomen. The air left his lungs, and for several moments, all he could do was blink.
Suddenly, it all made sense. Her flattery, her obsessive concern with his health, her reluctance to acknowledge the templar's attention, all of it.
"Kerian, is there a reason you discourage the attention of young men?" he asked carefully.
"They're immature," she replied.
"I would not describe Gabriel as immature. He has always been a remarkably level-headed young man, and shows greater discretion than many Harrowed mages I know."
"He's dull. Before he was made Tranquil, I mean. And I like men with more experience."
"I see," he said, slumping as the implications of her words sank in. "Did you have anyone in particular in mind?"
"That's a rather personal question." She looked away, staring into the stone wall she faced as if she could see through it.
"More personal than telling me how much experience you like your lovers to have? There can't be many apprentices who fit that description."
"I'm not interested in children. That's all apprentices are."
"You do realize that romantic involvement between apprentices and Harrowed mages is strongly discouraged, I hope," he said. "If anyone found out, it would all but guarantee the transfer of the latter to another Circle. Circle leadership might even decide the mage was a predator and subject him or her to the Rite of Tranquility. Do you enjoy placing your partners in danger?"
"I haven't had any," she said, staring into her lap. "And I won't be an apprentice forever. Once I pass my Harrowing…"
"Once you pass your Harrowing, you'll be free to form whatever attachments you wish among those whose rank is within one step of yours."
"Mages and enchanters, you mean? No one else?"
"Did you fancy someone with more seniority?" Galyan asked. "First Enchanter Edmonde would be flattered, but he would have to decline, as would any senior enchanter. Accepting would expose him or her to horrific censure."
"Why?" she demanded. "We'd both be Harrowed mages. We'd be on equal footing."
"Equal as mages, but there would still be an imbalance of authority. Senior enchanters advise the First Enchanter on matters that affect the Circle. They coordinate the activity of mages in their respective areas. If the newly-Harrowed mage's colleagues found out, the accusations of nepotism would be deafening."
"But nobody would have to find out!" she almost pleaded.
"There are no secrets in the White Spire, Kerian. Someone would find out, and the consequences would be grave for both parties. And that's assuming the senior was willing to participate. I can't think of any who would be, even if I assumed you wanted any of them."
"You can't mean that…" she said, her voice strangely thick. "Galyan…"
"I'm old enough to be your father," he said, ignoring her use of his bare personal name, "and most of my peers are older than me. You can't be that keen on grappling with a withered old sack of bones."
"There are more important things than appearance. Compatibility. Respect. I have no interest in some passing liaison."
"We're mages, Kerian," he said. "Passing liaisons are the only kind we will ever have."
"You don't believe that. I know you want more. Why else have you been alone all this time?"
"Who said I have?"
"But…" tears glistened on her cheek.
Galyan sighed and patted her hand. It was a ridiculous gesture, and a patronizing one, but he forced himself to do it anyway.
"I care about you very much, Kerian," he said. "You've been my apprentice since you were eleven years old, and there has never been a day when you have not made me proud…"
"But?" she said, her voice as flat as a Tranquil's.
"There is no 'but,'" he said. "You are becoming a fine woman, and will no doubt be Harrowed soon. When you are Harrowed, our relationship will change. I will no longer be your mentor, but I hope to remain your friend."
"But I want -"
"You want to feel loved," he said. "You are. You want men to desire you. Our ginger-haired friend would attest that they do, were he not trying to impress you with his courtesy. You will not be the poorer for having avoided a fling you would one day regret."
"You don't know that," she said.
"I won't risk your friendship to find out. You have a good heart, Kerian. Let's be happy with what we have."
She smiled sadly and leaned against his shoulder.
"I've really made a mess of things, haven't I?" she asked ruefully.
"It was a little awkward," he admitted, "but I'm glad we had a chance to clear the air."
She sighed, and Galyan allowed himself to relax. He anticipated more uncomfortable moments in the future as they both tried to forget the incident, but for now, he allowed himself to be thankful that their conversation had gone unobserved. He had not exaggerated the consequences of inappropriate affairs.
They sat in silence for a few moments longer, Galyan's lunch forgotten on the bench beside them. The emotional events of the morning had left him exhausted, a condition exacerbated by poor sleep and the pain of his injured back, and he dozed, only to be awakened by the scuff of boots on the pavement of the courtyard.
"If you're cold, Kerian, you can borrow my cloak," said a male voice in front of them. He sat up straighter, wincing as the exertion pulled at his wounds.
"Thank you, Gabriel," Kerian said, standing so he could fasten it around her shoulders. "I didn't expect to be out here so long."
"Why don't you join us?" Galyan offered, picking up his plate and moving over so Gabriel could sit on the other side of Kerian. The formari had a plate in his hands, apparently following their example and dining out of doors. "I haven't heard the bell that signals the start of afternoon classes, so we can stay a little longer."
"Thank you, senior enchanter," Gabriel said. "I should be… happy… to accept."
Kerian's gaze lifted to the brand on the young man's forehead.
"I am not yet accustomed to my role," he said. "I anticipate emotions that don't manifest."
"Is it very new to you?" Kerian asked. "I mean, I haven't seen you in a few months."
"Today is the first day," Gabriel said.
"I'm surprised to see you working so soon," Galyan said. "Usually, the First Enchanter allows a few days to settle in."
"I elected to begin sooner," Gabriel said. "I believe I will acclimate more quickly if I am allowed to be productive."
"That makes sense," Kerian said. "Thinking about the past won't change it."
"Are you enjoying your first day in the rune forge?" Gabriel asked.
"It's been… enlightening," she replied, not looking at Galyan. "Did you take a turn here before…"
"Yes," Gabriel said, "although I fared poorly. My spells were too feeble for any but the weakest enchantments."
"The Circle needs all kinds of runes," Galyan said. "And it needs all kinds of mages. The formari are an invaluable asset."
"Your apprentices seem to be enjoying themselves," Gabriel changed the subject. Whether he sensed that they had exhausted the conversational potential of the previous topic, Galyan could not say.
"Too much," Kerian said. "Evard is going to get his butt tanned for getting his clothing so muddy."
"You might tell the matron that I requested herbs from the garden to prepare etching agent," Gabriel said.
"You can lie?" Kerian asked.
"I would not be required to speak to the matron," he said.
"But you are capable of contemplating deceit," she said. "I find that reassuring, somehow."
Gabriel hesitated.
"I should have taken a second piece of bread," he said.
"You're welcome to mine," Galyan offered. "My appetite is not what it was twenty years ago. If you'll excuse me, I see Knight-Lieutenant Vanard is taking his meal break, too. I'd like to ask him a question or two about Kirkwall. We hail from the same city, it seems."
The two templars had been relieved and were lounging at ease on a bench nearer to the entrance to the dining hall, eating their bread and cheese and drinking from mugs of foamy ale. Galyan made no conscious attempt at concealment, but a trellis of half-dead vines shielded him from view.
"I'm telling you," said an uncomfortably familiar voice, "it was like sliding into a Rue Anguille whore."
"If the fit wasn't snug enough, you should have used a bigger tool," Knight-Lieutenant Vanard's voice said calmly.
"It was enough for him," the familiar voice retorted. "He squealed like a spitted pig."
Galyan froze where he stood. If the second templar was Devareaux, it sounded as if he had taken out his frustrations on an innocent after all.
"Yet he stood there and let you get on with it? Really, Devareaux, these wild boasts of yours grow more ludicrous every day."
"Don't see that he had much choice," Devareaux said. "He was chained to the wall at the time."
"Knight-Templar Devareaux, the penalty for obtaining sexual favors through force or coercion is ninety days on river watch. That tower is beastly cold this time of year. Is your pride worth that?"
"You only care because you're sweet on his apprentice," Devareaux said.
"That's enough, templar," Knight-Lieutenant Vanard said, his words punctuated by the scrape of armor against the bench. "The Knight-Captain told me to switch someone to river watch. You just volunteered. Inform the knight-lieutenant on duty that you are to remain there in your off-duty hours. I will check."
"But… you didn't believe -"
"The penalty for lying to your superior officer is the same. Go."
Galyan waited until the sound of angry footsteps receded before he showed himself.
"Things must be very different in Kirkwall than they are here," he said. "That's the first time in twenty-five years I've seen a templar disciplined for what he claims to have done."
"They weren't any different in Kirkwall," Knight-Lieutenant Vanard said. "That's why Devareaux had to be punished. You can only push people so far."
"That's assuming you acknowledge that they're people," Galyan snorted and sat down beside the templar on the bench. "Did you have friends in the Kirkwall Circle?"
"Not really," he said. "I had friends in the Order, but I doubt that's what you meant. Leadership discouraged fraternization."
"Lord Seeker Lambert would probably agree."
"So it seems," Knight-Lieutenant Vanard said. "I won't discuss the present administration, but as things stand, Lord Seeker Lambert may be more of an ally than his predecessor. If Devareaux appealed his new posting to Knight-Commander Eron, he would have reversed it. If Devareaux tries that with Lord Seeker Lambert, he will likely find himself assigned to to the river watch permanently."
"The river watch?" Galyan asked.
"We maintain an outpost on an island in the middle of the river. It isn't much of an island - most of the time, it's completely submerged with only the watchtower sticking out of the river - but it's a good place to dispose of troublemakers."
"Why man it at all?" Galyan asked. "Do you fear an armada of mages sailing up from the Waking Sea?"
Knight-Lieutenant Vanard laughed, a light, merry sound in the quiet courtyard.
"If they did, we'd never spot them from Bowman's Tower," he said. "It's too far upriver to even see the coast. Val Royeaux used to be smaller. Back in the Steel Age, somebody decided that the Qunari might get bored in the Free Marches and invade Val Royeaux overland. They built a dozen or so watchtowers at intervals along the river and almost immediately lost interest in them. Some were converted to chateaux, but they're old and falling apart. Nobles prop them up with gold. The rest are just crumbling into the river, because there aren't enough navigation hazards between the headwaters and the coast, apparently. A few decades ago, the Knight-Vigilant appropriated one of the more intact ones to house inconvenient templars."
"Excuse me?"
"You don't see many old templars," Knight-Lieutenant Vanard explained. "You must have noticed. The lyrium rots our brains over time, but we never lose our sense of purpose. You can't put the dust-addled to watching mages or protecting the Divine, so we give them make-work jobs and tell them to remain vigilant. They may be unable to string four words together, but they make passable sentries, provided you never ask them to do anything more complex than sound an alarm. Ser Devareaux is in for a jolly time standing out in the wind and reminding old templars to put on their pants."
"Well, if the qunari do decide to invade, perhaps we'll be treated to a tale of how he buggered one of them," Galyan chuckled.
"I'm surprised you don't know of the place," Knight Lieutenant Vanard said when he was done laughing. "It's visible from the top of the White Spire."
"I do know the place," Galyan said. "I thought it was a manor, though. In ancient days, I used to get out of the tower more often, and the foliage along the river walk was peerless at this time of year. It's a pity that my apprentices will never know the pleasure."
"I might be able to fix that," Knight-Lieutenant Vanard said, his cheeks reddening. "The First Enchanter would authorize an outing, with templar supervision."
"Don't count on that," Galyan said dejectedly, then brightened, "but he might authorize a foraging expedition, especially if the trip included a visit to the caverns north of Chevalier's Point."
"I know those! There's supposed to be an underground lake in one of them."
"Your knowledge of geography is good for one so recently assigned to Val Royeaux," Galyan observed.
"I served at Bowman's Tower myself for a time," he said, gazing at his armored knees. "I had recently arrived from Kirkwall. The Knight-Commander there issued heavier doses than is customary, and it took a few months to adjust. I spent a lot of time prowling the caves along the riverbank. Perhaps I thought I'd find lyrium there."
"Not so close to the surface."
"I didn't know that at the time. All I knew was that lyrium came out of the ground. I was twitchy enough to try anything."
"I've heard templars make oblique references to lyrium before, but you're the first I've met who's discussed it openly," Galyan said.
"Most members of my Order believe that templars and mages shouldn't talk to each other."
"Most members of your Order believe mages aren't people."
"Most templars haven't been to Kirkwall. We're getting into dangerous waters, senior enchanter. The Seekers who questioned me ordered me not to speak of my time there. Why do you want to go foraging in the caves?"
"There's a particular fungus that grows there," he answered. "It's useful in potion-making. By torchlight, it looks exactly like common lichen, but it shines in the light of a glow sphere. We tried cultivating it in the dungeons, but it didn't take."
"If someone planted me in the dungeons, I'd curl up and die, too," the templar said. "The air is half soot and the rest, piss and blood."
Galyan looked around for his apprentices. Evard and Stephanie were either playing catch with a pinecone or trying to decapitate each other with it. It was often hard to tell with those two. Kerian still sat on her bench, talking to Gabriel. No one seemed impatient to get back inside.
"Is it my imagination or is our midday break longer than usual today?" he asked.
"Good question," Knight-Lieutenant Vanard said. "We didn't miss the bell."
They made inconsequential small talk for perhaps another quarter hour before the bell called them back to their respective duties. The delay had not been Galyan's imagination. The sun had already dipped below the rooftops of the western arm of the Circle complex, so time had progressed, even if their day had not. He ushered his apprentices back into the rune forge and wondered what he missed.
