Dim were the grounds that I walked. Shadows played across the stone, bringing false monsters to my eyes. Half-lidded and half-asleep, I made my way around the first floor to my second post. The tower was at rest, or as much as expected. I poked my head around the corner of the children's dorm. A few candles flickered in the darkness, echoing a faint chorus of quiet sleepers. One of the candles quickly went out, followed by giggling. I turned back to the hallway and continued on.
Outside the thick stone wall I could hear the distant roaring of wind and rain. There was nothing to be had or to guard on this miserable night watch. It was as sullen and bleak as ever, with only the creak of shifting armor and yawns to fill the evening. I passed a comrade, George, and nodded mutedly to him before continuing on. He looked as if he were about to slip off the tip of spear the way he leaned on it. I heard him shuffle behind me to stand back up straight.
"Captain," he nodded after me. I waved over my shoulder.
In the foyer only a few torches were lit so as to help keep the others from tripping over the rugs. I treaded lazily across, boots dragging, to the opposite side of where Ser Yorik stood swaying near the entrance. We were at least accompanied by the faint sound of wind howling outside. An invisible breeze seemed to pull at our feet.
"If it weren't for this armor I might just freeze," Yorik complained after a long few minutes dragged by. He shifted uncomfortably in front of the door, then rested his hand on the hilt of his belt. "Damn winter's clawing its way right under the door," he added.
Right after did a bang shake the other side of the enormous wall, rupturing Yorik from his post with a fearful shout. I jumped and stepped back, staring wide-eyed and frightful at the entrance as well. He looked at me, startled. I could see his hand already curling around the hilt of his sword.
Another bang.
"Maker's breath, what is it?!" he choked, taking another step away as the doors shuddered. I said nothing and began to draw my sword as well. Another bang resounded in the hallway, this time making a few surrounding picture frames shudder. My heart was in my throat, and by now a throng of fellow templars had rushed from their posts to investigate. We stood around the door in a semi-circle, fearful with hands at our waist.
Then, I heard her.
A faint, indistinct cry for help muttered through the door. Before I knew it I had rushed forward and slung the barricades off. Mere seconds after I had removed the beams, the entrance doors swung open from the force of sleet and wind. A great, fearsome howling overtook the chamber and drowned out the entire foyer. The men staggered back from the pelting snow and ice, and I hunched over to protect myself. Out of the howling darkness a hand snatched around my ankle.
I shouted and reached for my sword, then stopped when I caught sight of a woman rather than the abomination I had expected. She lay strangled at my feet - naked, wet, and bleeding. The sight was so offensive I forgot to look away, and instead found my eyes greedily looking over the bare and wounded flesh. My shock quickly gave way to fear when she spoke, pleading in a foreign language that tempered of horror. Unthinking, I reached down and pulled her up, then tore off my cloak and wrapped it around her. Even under the thick material of my gloves, she was frozen to the touch, and shaking so badly she could not stand. I turned to the others.
"Get the Commander, NOW!" I shouted at them. They stumbled into one another to obey my order, and quickly moved to help me pull the girl inside. The frost had slowed much of the bleeding, though I knew it wouldn't be long before her skin would blacken from it as well. She would die if we didn't do something.
If I didn't do something.
Two of the others moved to push the doors close and lock them once more. I wrapped the cloak tightly around her shameful display and placed her head upon my lap. Maker's breath, she was barely alive. It must have taken all of her remaining strength to beat on the door so loudly. I pulled off my gauntlet and glove and put a bare hand to her face. She felt as ice.
She had since passed out and spoke no more. I feared she had slipped into death, though by the weak rise of her chest she still clung to life. I pressed two fingers to the hollow of her neck. Though shallow, her heart still pitched. I turned to Yorik, who stood gawking over us both, and frowned.
"Fetch me the Senior Enchanter and two of her best healers. I will carry her down to the infirmary," I instructed. He nodded and began at a jog down the hallway. Only one man remained, nervously pacing from one foot to the other by the entrance. He had paused and watched Yorik leave.
"You," I called. He turned and obediently looked at me. I pointed after Yorik. "Follow him and make sure they have the necessary preparations ready. She may need incisions," I added. The boy nodded and turned to run after Yorik, leaving just myself with the girl.
Woman… I corrected myself silently.
My eyes roamed back down to the forbidden region of her slightly-exposed breasts. I had never seen the naked flesh of a woman, much less touched it. A life raised in the Chantry was not known for sinful frivolities most young men took for granted. Only then did I become so distinctly aware of my situation I was threatened to drop her back on the floor, though I fought the urge. Instead, neck aflame and trembling fingers thrumming, I slipped my hands under the weight of her body (careful to keep her covered) and drew her into my arms. I stood and followed after the others into the corridor.
The Commander would flog me when he found out.
I stole a few glances at the woman as I climbed the staircases, ignoring the popping eyes of curious magi awoken from their sleep, and found that she was an elf. The cuts to her face were painful to look upon, though I imagined with a bit of healing and sleep - her skin would be pale and beautiful, much like the rest of her. Such thoughts burned in my chest and made my skin prickle. I forced my eyes away and continued the climb.
She was getting warmer.
Upon reaching the infirmary hall, I saw the Commander standing at the entrance with arms crossed. I dreaded the thought of what he would say when I approached. Would he turn her away - force me to put her back out into the cold like a stray pup? I willed myself into determination not to let it happen, though the faster I approached, so much more rapidly did his scowl intimidate me.
First Enchanter Leona saved me from the confrontation by stepping directly in front of the commander and pretending he was not there.
"Come, come - quickly now," she ushered me in, pushing the commander aside in the process to lead me into the infirmary. I moved past him without a word, still careful to shield the woman from the others, though it did not stop them from gawking. Half of the tower must have been awake after the disruption. I ignored the murmurs as I moved past, focusing my intent on following Leona.
As I gingerly placed her onto the makeshift cot, I felt a sense of disconnection overwhelm me. A cold feeling crept into my chest once I took in her full form once more - limp, twisted, and scarred from head to foot. The wounds were still quite fresh and, though I could not be sure in the dim light, reminiscent of intentional patterns. The words taunted my mind like a poison.
Dark magic…
Only the very disturbed would practice such dark arts as to mutilate their own skin in a magic ritual. For her sake, I prayed she had not performed the incisions herself, though that thought itself made me sick; the only other explanation pointed towards an involuntary sacrifice.
Andraste's breath, who would do this?
I could not fathom any man capable of such evil.
All too suddenly did the woman let out a horrific, wailing gasp for air and began to convulse and twist in the bed. The noises were not of someone looking to breath, but of a wretched animal gasping to escape. I was so startled by the sound I jerked back and froze, unable to react. I stared as her back arched and limbs stiffened.
The enchanters struggled to suppress her while nervous templars stood with hands on their swords. I turned to find the commander's eyes boring into me, a look that blamed and held me responsible for the entire situation without uttering a single word. She would be my sole responsibility from now on, whatever that meant or for however long.
I turned back as First Enchanter Leona muttered some form of incantation to sedate her into what looked like a state of unconsciousness. Though I did not know her, I feared for the woman's mortality. A part of me felt she did not deserve whatever cruel fate had been given to her, and for whatever reason the Maker had given her to me. As long as she lived, I would see to it that she was looked after and given the proper chance. No creature on earth deserved those scars.