Final part of the Broken Circle quest. Enjoy!

Chapter 8

The True Revolution Has Come

It was clear that Cullen was a broken man. Though "man" was generous. He was a boy really, only just nineteen years old. But most of the mages, save Wynne, were mostly around the same age. All of them had experienced great horror in a short time span, and had to endure the constant pressures of Circle life to boot.

But Cullen had gone mental. Even Victor, usually deferential to Templars and their duty, could see that. Though his faith in the Templars had diminished considerably after his own imprisonment, Rhett's Tranquility, and the reaction to this outbreak of demons. They were not shining knights for the Makers, but men and women. And men and women had faults.

As one could see clearly in Cullen as he bawled and shrieked at them to do the unthinkable.

"You have to destroy them before it's too late!" he screamed, practically foaming at the mouth.

Victor, and the remaining mages were unmoved. "We will not kill all the mages upstairs to satisfy your bloodlust, Cullen." Victor sternly replied.

"Bloodlust!? Bloodlust?! Is that a joke from a blood mage? Why are you all following a blood mage!"

"He is no Blood Mage." Petra told him, using her most soothing tone. "He was caught up with Jowan, who used him and Lily."

"Lily…Lily… like the flower! Too sweet and innocent! Oh, Maker! Thank you for your mercy for getting her out of the tower before your wrath came down! Oh, Bless you!"

Cullen was back on his knees praying, making Victor uncomfortable. Prayer was necessary, but did he have to do it in such an undignified manner? Surely Victor didn't look like this while he prayed?

"We will be back Cullen." Victor told him, "Once we defeat Uldred and whatever else is up there, this prison should collapse. We can tend to your wounds then."

"You will not lay your hands on me!" Cullen shouted, "You will never, ever, lay hands on me or anyone else ever again, mage! I know what you are! I know what all of you are! Foul and corrupted! That's what all magic is! I have seen it! I have seen what it does! Oh Maker, aid your humble servant to resist! Resist!"

"I am sorry Cullen that all you can see now is suffering. May the Maker turn His gaze to you, and Andraste grant you Her Mercy."

And with that, the eleven remaining mages ascended the staircases to the Harrowing Chamber. As they left, all they could hear were the whimpers of Cullen.

When Victor had been younger, he had often wondered what exactly the Void was. It was an enigmatic location mentioned in the Chant as the place where the Maker never turned His gaze. It was held to be the very antithesis of the Maker's creations and Andraste declared to the world that all of the Maker's children had the choice to walk by His side or cast themselves into the Void. The priests had echoed that sentiment, teaching him that the Void was the final destination for sinners and heretics alike, a waking nightmare to punish those who had been foul and corrupt in life.

Ascending into the Harrowing Chamber, Victor suddenly had a clear image of what the Void might contain.

The Harrowing Chamber reeked of death and decay. The smell of blood, sweat, excrement, and demonic Corruption suffocated the air as howls of agony bounced off the stone walls and ruined stain glass windows. The air was also thick with magical energy, though its sensation was foreign to all the mages in Victor's party. It was blood magic, no question.

The party of mages was revolted at the sight. Abominations limped along, guarding groups of beaten and bloodied mages. In the center of the chamber, where a marble basin of lyrium typically was, stood Uldred and two Abominations who were in the process of torturing a mage. The mage, a boy Victor could not recognize due to his bruised face, shrieked in anguish as Uldred and his Abominations abused him with magic.

"Stop!" Victor shouted, stepping forward to confront Uldred. Dark murmurs echoed off the walls of the circular Chamber as Abominations acknowledge his presence. Uldred, ceasing his torture of the young mage, turned to Victor as well. Physically, Uldred appeared unaltered by any demonic possession, a worrying sign. Only the most powerful of demons could achieve such a state.

"Oh look, it's the Chantry mouse, Irving's star pupil!" Irving mocked, giving Victor a look over. "I had heard you were dead."

"Not the first thing you've been wrong about recently, is it?" Victor asked, bolder than he actually felt.

The accusation seemed to ruffle Uldred, his eyes narrowing. "I don't know what you mean. Everything is going according to my plan. Perhaps not Uldred's plan, but certainly my plan."

"What are you?" Petra asked, staff raised and ready to attack.

"I am Uldred. I am all his dreams and hopes and ambitious. And what an ambitious man this is. Oh, how he wishes to change the world. And we will, I'm making sure of it. But first, I need an army."

Behind Victor, a few of the mages whispered amongst themselves. "Desire demon?" one asked the other.

"Seems like it."

"Your army is dead, demon." Victor announced. "The mages of this tower have cut them down. You and the abominations you surround yourselves with are the only ones left."

"A pity. Ah well, they are probably better off dying in service of their betters than living with the terrible responsibility of independence." The demon shrugged, tone just as pretentious and condescending as the real Uldred's had been. "So, have you come to join in my glorious revolution? We are changing this world for the better, turning mages from mere larvae into their full potential!"

"Glorious revolution!" Victor shouted, blood rising. "This is nothing more than unholy and foul magic at its worst! It's mages succumbing to their own weakness and then blaming the circumstances they find themselves in for it! Your revolution has left nothing but blood and death in its wake, ignoring the true problems of the Circle for your own mania!"

"How preachy. Did you learn that from Mother Irene? You know, she as tougher than I thought the old bat would be. She never begged once as I set my servants loose on her. How brave."

A flash of Mother Irene, a kindly old woman with laugh lines around her eyes, crossed Victor's mind. She was a woman who came to a weeping nine-year-old Victor and comforted him. Who showed him the glory of the Chant of Light, the glory of the Maker and His Prophet. She was a rock in difficult times.

And now she was another death. Another death of a failed Circle. And a failed system.

"You have killed plenty of brave men and women today, demon. But it ends now!" Victor announced.

"Resistance! Everywhere I go it is resistance!" Uldred shouted, flailing his arms up in anger. "I even have the First Enchanter on my side, don't I… Irving?"

Uldred pointed to the side of the chamber and, amongst a grouping of bloodied mages, there sat Irving, weakened and tormented.

"What have you done to him?" Wynne gasped in horror, hardly recognizing her old friend.

"Stop him…" Irving moaned, barely able to raise his head to look at them. "He is raising an army… he will destroy the Templars and…"

"You're a sly little fox, Irving." Uldred teased, "Telling on me like that. And here I thought he was starting to turn."

"N-Never!" Irving spat back.

"That's enough out of you, Irving. He'll serve me eventually. As will you all!"

"Never." Victor said, raising his staff.

"Never." Petra replied.

"Never." Niall echoed, and so it went on. Each of the eleven mages refused to kneel to the demon, their staves readied in attack. Uldred looked them over, shaking his shiny bald head in annoyance.

"Fight, if you must, it'll make my victory all the sweeter."

"Don't forget the Litany." Wynne muttered to Niall, who already had the parchment drawn and readied for use.

Before any mage could fire off a spell, Uldred's shape began to change. A yellow light engulfed his body, twisting him something new. Bones splintered and took new shape, muscle extended and ligaments rearranged themselves. He grew in size until he was as tall as three men stacked on one another. As the yellow light faded from his body, all saw his new form: a purple horned, scaled, and spiked figure with multiple spider like eyes.

A Pride demon.

It was a grueling battle. Even if the mages were at their full strength it would have been difficult. A Pride demon was the most powerful demon in the hierarchy and this one was certainly proving that standard. It overwhelmed them with its' magics, and used an innovative and frightening whip made out of pure lightning to strike at them. All of this while its abomination minions attacked them, threatening to overwhelm them with powerful blasts of fire and tricky hexes.

Still, the mages held their own. After fighting floors of demons to get here, they were not so easily broken. Each spell the Pride demon and the Abominations unleashed upon them was blocked and countered with an equally powerful spell. While Pride demon did not fall so easily, the mages had killed most of the Abominations in no time. The Pride demon, upon realizing its minions were dead, halted its attack and turned to a grouping of battered mages.

"Do you accept the gift I have to offer?" It asked them. A glyph formed beneath the mages as they began to twitch and scream in agony.

"It's trying to change them!" Wynne cried, "The Litany! Use it to stop him! Now!"

Niall, realizing this, quickly began reciting the Litany of Adralla to cancel out Pride demon's attempts at possession. The glyph faded and Pride demon, infuriated, unleashed an unholy roar and powerful mana wave across the Chamber. The mages who didn't put up a barrier fast enough were caught up in the wave and sent flying across the Chamber, feeling nauseous and discombobulated as they got back to their feet. With fewer enemies, the Pride demon once again tried to turn some of the mages into abominations.

"Again, Niall! Quickly!" Victor shouted, gathering his mana for an attack on the Pride demon. Bleeding from his forehead, Niall wiped the dripping blood from his eye and began re-reading the Litany, cutting off the Pride demons magic. The Pride demon screamed again in frustration and, brandishing his lightning whip, lashed out at two nearby mages. The whip connected with their bodies, electrocuting them until they dropped dead.

"If I cannot have them, no one will!" The Pride Demon bellowed. Embers danced inside the demon's outstretched, clawed hand and then vanished. Suddenly, off to the side of the chamber, four of the captured mages erupted into flames, screaming as they burned to death. And from their charred corpses, Rage demons emerged, raining fire down on the other mages.

But Victor was readied now. As the other mages handled the Rage demons, Victor unleashed a powerful ice spell on the Pride demon, targeting the creature's joints. It was useless to try and freeze the whole creature – such an act would cost too much mana – but strategic freezing and then crushing…

The Pride demon screamed in rage as its right arm froze solid, and then howled in agony as Victor shattered its' arm with a crushing prison spell. Chunks of ice fell from where the Pride demon's arm used to be, smashing against the ground as the Pride demon staggered back. Demonic ichor leaked from its elbow, the black substance hissing as it hit the ground. Victor, sweat on his brow, followed up with another ice spell, this time targeting the leg of the demon.

Without focus, the Pride demon lashed out with a bolt of lightning that would have killed Victor if not for the barrier he put up. He knew he was overexerting himself. Victor's breath was becoming more laborious, his chest tightening, and his robes had become soaked in sweat and stuck to his skin. But he pressed forward, freezing the Pride demon's left leg solid before shattering it as well.

"No! No!" The Pride demon screamed, lashing out with an electrical storm. This one was strong enough to break through Victor's spell barrier, and he screamed in pain as electricity ran through his body, bringing him to his knees. Next to him, fellow mages seized on the Pride demon's weakness and hit it with a barrage of attacks, breaking down its' purple scaly armored skin and exposing the raw pink flesh underneath. Realizing it was nearing the end for him, the Pride demon unleashed another mana wave, strong enough that it sent the attacking mages flying through the air. Eadric, amongst those hit by the wave, hit the wall of the Chamber with a sickening crack and fell to the ground in agony, clutching his now bent arm.

Shaking off the last bits of disorientation, Victor gathered his mana again for one final push. The tips of his fingers froze over as he felt the soothing power of the Fade wash over him, building up his strength for his last attack. The Pride Demon's chest was exposed, showing a disgusting and pulsating pink mass of flesh. It served as useful target. With his mana gathered, Victor said a silent prayer, hoping his insane plan and tricky spell work would be successful.

And then he charged the Pride demon.

The demon certainly didn't look as though it expected such an attack. Its beady eyes watched in shock as a spear of ice formed in Victor's hands and as Victor plunged it into the Pride demon's exposed flesh. It howled in pain and Victor – knowing the demon still had its other massive hand – quickly began the second part of his spell. He was a master of the Spirit tree of magic and while some might overlook it, it had some powerful attack spells. Using the ice spear as a conduit, much like a mage would use a staff, Victor pumped energy into the Pride demon's body.

He was stopped when the creatures slimy hand grabbed hold of him, wrapping around his whole body and raising him high above the ground. Victor struggled, feeling the creatures tightening grip around his chest, ready to crush him. The end seemed near, until Victor released the energy in the demon's chest.

And the Pride demon's chest exploded, spewing forth ichor and muscle across the Harrowing Chamber.

The demon did not even howl as its chest exploded. It collapsed to the ground, its grip on Victor gone, and tried desperately to keep its guts from spilling forth. But the spirit bomb spell Victor had injected the demon with was too strong, it was in its death throes now. Forming one last ice spear, Victor limped towards the Pride demon as it coughed up blood. The monstrosities' multiple eyes bore into Victor as he stepped closer, spear raised. The creature attempt to roar at him one last time, unable to form words as it choked on its own bloody ichor.

And with its mouth opening, Victor had his opening.

With a heavy grunt, Victor plunged the spear into the creature's mouth. With all the physical strength he had left, he burrowed it deeper into the creature's head, piercing through cartilage and tissue until the Pride demon went still, its heavy body going limp and collapsing the ground.

And then, it was over.

Uldred and the Pride demon were dead. The abominations were dead. The blood mages defeated.

The Circle was saved.

There wasn't a universal cheer from the mages. All of them were too stunned or exhausted for a grand celebration. A wave of relief washed over them all though followed by a moment of realization of what they had just accomplished.

"We did it." Eadric announced, broken arm being tended to by Petra. "We did it."

"You killed him." Cera said to Victor, awe struck. Around the Harrowing Chamber, all eyes were on Victor, who remained standing over the Pride demon's corpse, breathing heavily and covered in its ichor and his own sweat. There was muttering around the Chamber, which Victor cut off with a command.

"See to the injured! Those most injured go first."

People were quick to follow his command. The captured mages looked on in awe, surprised at their own survival and to see friends once more. The familiar and comforting sensation of healing magic flowed through the air of the Harrowing Chamber, edging out the corrupting sensations of blood magic.

'It's over. It's truly over.' Victor thought.

As the mages tended to the prisoners, Victor stood over the foul corpse of the Uldred Pride demon. A sense of satisfaction came over him.

Niall approached, looking the demon over. "It is done. The Circle has been restored."

"We did it."

"No, you did it." Niall said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "The others… they're already calling you a hero. They remember how you saved most of them from the Sloth Demon's nightmares and dreams. They remember your speeches. And they will never forget how it was you who killed a Pride demon."

That was… nice. Victor would remain humble outwardly, but privately he was quite pleased. Only hours earlier they all assumed he was either dead or a blood mage. Now, he was the hero of the Circle. He had saved his home, even if it had cast him aside.

No, his home hadn't. The Templars and the First Enchanter had. The System of the Circle had, not the Tower or the people he cared for in it.

"We're all heroes. Especially those who gave their lives for this." Victor replied. "We could not have done this without everyone. Andraste guide them. Maker, take them to your side."

"I'm not… a hero." Niall muttered. "Trying to be one was foolish. And trying to be a leader was as well."

"Niall, you are a leader." Victor said, looking him squarely in the face and putting a hand on his shoulder. "You were always the leader. It was you who escaped Uldred when he first turned. It was you who rallied your fellow mages and got us to the Litany. It was you – you – who turned into a golem and shattered a demon to a million little pieces. And it was you who read off the Litany and saved all of these mages from turning into Abominations, including the ungrateful First Enchanter. You are a hero, and people won't forget that."

Niall actually blushed. "Thank you. I don't know what to say."

Feeling rather bold, Victor gave the man a hug. It caught Niall off guard at first, but he quickly returned it. "Now, I have to deal with Irving." Victor said as they broke apart.

The First Enchanter was laying off to the side with the other former mage prisoners. Wynne was sitting next to him, using the last of her willpower to heal Irving's wounds. They were severe and it was obvious Uldred had enjoyed trying to break him. As Victor approached, the other mages were giving Victor awe inspired looks. The former star pupil and Circle darling turned unwitting accomplice of a blood mage turned prisoner turned hero of the Circle and slayer of Pride Demons. It was quite the story. When Irving saw him, towering over him with his staff clenched in his hand and an unfriendly look on his face, he had Wynne help him up into a sitting position.

"Victor…" Irving moaned, strength returning to him thanks to Wynne's healing. "I can hardly believe my eyes."

Victor remained silent. The other mages surrounding them sensed the growing tension as Victor's face grew sterner. Irving, noticing this, spoke again.

"I am glad that you arrived when you did. It's almost as if the Maker Himself sent you."

Every mage knew that invocation of the Maker would encourage or at least sooth Victor. But it garnered no response this time. Victor's eyes bore into Irving, who was breaking under them.

"How did this come to pass? Did the other mages free you from your cell?"

Victor didn't respond immediately. Instead, he first reached into his robes and pulled out a heavy purple book. Irving's eyes went wide when he recognized it, stirring the mages around him who noticed the distressed looked in the First Enchanter's.

"Victor, don't!" Wynne warned.

But Victor ignored her. Instead, he read off the damning passages from the First Enchanter's book, ending with the one addressing Uldred.

"'Uldred has been very helpful in identifying the markers to look for.'" Victor read off, voice deadly calm. "'His skills at misdirection are admirable. I daresay that the apprentices would be shocked at his ability to manipulate them. I must organize a retreat such that the other enchanters can benefit from his skills.'"

A silence consumed the Harrowing Chamber as the other mages digested the news, a silence so awful it felt as though the room might explode in a second. Irving braved an answer. "I am sorry, Victor." He said.

"You allowed them to make Rhett Tranquil?" Victor asked, sounding more of a statement than a question. Irving merely nodded, head heavy. "You believed Uldred? You did what you thought was best for the Circle? So that the Circle could survive?"

Again, Irving nodded.

"And for what? The Circle still ended up falling to the very man who you thought was protecting it!"

Victor hadn't meant to yell, not just yet, but the rage that gripped him was so all consuming he couldn't help it. All he could see now were the faces of his fellow mages now dead. All he could see was a failed system that allowed his suffering for months and for a madman to gain control. All he could see was Rhett's face, emotionless and never to feel again.

And from that anger, a clarity hit him. And he knew what he must try to do.

"Magic exist to serve man and never rule over him." Victor began, raising his voice so that the whole Chamber could hear him. He turned from Irving, refusing to give the man another glance, and instead spoke to all the mages in the room. "So spoke our Prophet Andraste as she waged a just and holy war against the Tevinter Imperium, the very example of magic gone awry. This change did not occur peacefully, but by force. Blood was shed, as is to expected when fighting a horrific enemy that shows no quarter!"

The memory of Catriona's words came back to him about Andraste. Realizing he was going about this the wrong way, Victor changed his tack.

"And once her holy mission was done, and Andraste was taken from this world, the Chantry formed, eager to spread Her teachings to the four corners of the world. And with it came the Circles, our supposedly independent institution with Templar oversight. But instead, what has occurred? Centuries of mages feeling uncertain in their place in the world. All of it culminating in this. This horror. Or giving birth to the delusions of one man who believed he must do anything to escape the vicious cycle this system creates.

"For my entire life in the Circle, I have believed in the promise of the Circle. In some ways, I still do. But I cannot ignore what it did to me, what it did to the elf I love! He was deemed a threat to this Circle, an outlandish accusation that anyone who knows Rhett could say! It allowed a coven of blood mages to form right under our noses, facilitated by the very man who was supposedly rooting it out and approved of by the man who was supposed to keep us safe from danger!"

Irving looked deeply ashamed and did not meet the eyes of the other mages. Victor continued, undisturbed by Irving's shame.

"For all the horror he inflicted, this could have been avoided. And to prevent this from occurring ever again, a change must happen."

All the mages were enraptured, waiting to hear what Victor proposed.

"But how should this change occur? In the hands of the Libertarians? They've had their chance and thought themselves better than the rest of us! Instead, they thought they would simply kill those who didn't agree with them? That they would turn to blood magic to achieve their goals and fulfill every horror archetype the world makes for us? They were fools lead by an even more foolish, self-serving man turned Pride demon! So, should we return to Templar control but choose a different First Enchanter? A First Enchanter who will continue to have no real power, and we will dance again to the whims of the Templar order? Who will banish worthy mages to death or Tranquility and cover it up as for the 'good of the Circle?' What does

'for the good of the Circle' matter when the mages who continue to live in it fear for their lives or plot violent overthrow? We have seen what that approach achieves on this very day! Death, destruction, demonic corruption! Good people, loyal and obedient to the Maker, are dead, good mages made Tranquil!

"A change must occur, and because of that, I propose freedom from the Templars, but not an abandonment from the Maker's Commandment! Magic must exist to serve man. And the best way we can achieve this is through our own governance. I do not know what specifics of what we should do, I cannot offer you that comfort. What I am proposing is a brave new world, one where we don't know where our path will lead. It will be difficult, it may lead to our downfall, but we deserve a chance to determine our own fate: one where we show the best of the mages, not tainted by blood mages or demons, but where we show our devotion to the Maker and follow His Commandments.

"If none of you wish this course, I will be silent. I am not Uldred or his lunatics. I only work with your consent. But I urged all of you, to take a stand like we have today. No more Templars, no more Circle hierarchy as it is! Let us be independent and work with Ferelden!"

A silence so deep and horrible followed that Victor instantly thought he made a miscalculation. How much of this was just his grief from the lost five months of his life? Of his feelings of anger towards Irving and disillusionment with the Templar Order and their Sacred duty? And of course, his grief over Rhett, never to be returned to him.

And then, unexpected, Niall stepped forward and addressed the other mages.

"We did something that no one here through possible before." He announced, "We stood against demon and corruption and did not fall to their temptations. We proved ourselves brave. We proved ourselves capable of solving our own problems with the Chantry or the outside world. You all know me as an Isolationist, I stance I stand by. But a change must come. I stand with Victor."

He then turned to Victor, gripped his staff tightly, and then banged it on the stone floor beneath his three times in a symbol of solidarity. Then, another stepped forward.

"Petra!" Wynne admonished, though he pupil was not paying attention.

"Uldred was insane. His blood mages were insane. But to ask for more as mages is not." Petra announced, "Everyone who is in this Harrowing Chamber has proven themselves in one way or another. To ask for our freedom, or at least more freedom, is not a silly notion. We can coexist with the Chantry and outside world if we try. It will not be easy, and I follow knowing the high likelihood we will all be killed, but I stand with Victor and Niall!"

She raised her staff and then stamped it on the ground three times in support.

Eadric stepped up next, stamping his own staff against the ground three times. Then Cera. Then Orzo. And soon, all the other mages. The Harrowing Chamber echoed with the sound of staves hitting the ground. Those without staves banged their fists against the ground, echoing their support.

A smile came to Victor's face raising his own staff and stamping it against the ground three times.

"Then let us enter this brave new world together!" He announced. "And may the Maker smile upon us!"

Next up: The Grey Wardens arrive!