ANDERS

He felt as if someone had locked him in a furnace together with heavy pieces of wood. The heat penetrating his body made it difficult to catch his breath. It was as if his lungs could not absorb the air. His wounded side ached with every movement and his head was filled with damp wool. He was grateful that Justice remained asleep. Otherwise, it would have been all over for him. The spirit was devoid of the concept of life in a purely physical sense. He felt no pain, thirst, or hunger. He did not know that the body had its limitations.

Someone's gentle hands lifted his head and he felt cold glass against his lips. The distinctive smell of elven root hit his nostrils and the bitter liquid washed down his throat once more. The potion worked instantly, infusing his tortured body with a new surge of strength. The heat seemed to have eased and his side no longer ached so much. He felt a cool touch on his right hand. He opened his heavy eyelids. The colored cloth hanging over his head became a temporary anchor for his vision. After a long moment, he turned his head to the right. Two blue eyes stared at him with concern. The cool embrace tightened.

- Hawke... - he whispered. It felt like he was dreaming in the Fade, and her face was the only real part of his surroundings. Her raven-black, slightly wavy hair was tied up in a high loose ponytail as always, letting unruly strands of hair wrap around her pale face. Cherry lips were smiling slightly. Maker, she was so beautiful.

- I'm here, Anders. I'm here. Varric has gone to organize the herbs you asked for. - she explained hurriedly. He pulled down his eyebrows. It took him an eternity to analyze her words. He finally closed his eyes in a gesture of understanding. Maker, he was so tired. Physically and mentally.

- Anders what happened at the clinic? - He heard her raised voice. - How did you manage to get to the basement?

He opened his eyes once again. He knew what she was trying to do. Until they got rid of the bolt, every time he closed his eyes it could be the last time, so Hawke kept chatting with him, trying hard to force him to stay awake. She must have seen him do the same with his patients at the clinic. It worked. Subconsciously his mind began to send him images of what had happened. Anders forced himself to converse.

- The templars... They surprised me... Two men and a woman. They struck when I was at my weakest. As if they knew. - he fell silent for a moment, gathering his strength.

- But how did you escape them? How did you get here? - Hawke asked in the face of the prolonged silence. He wrinkled his forehead. A drop of sweat flashed on his forehead and, running down a winding path along with his temple, disappeared between his light hair.

- Volunteers and patients... They stood between me and the templars... They made escape possible.

A cold shiver shook his body suddenly. He hissed softly placing a hand on his wounded side. He fell silent again closing his eyelids.

- And the bolt in your side? - tormented Hawke. Sweet Andraste his subconscious wanted so badly for her to give him peace.

- An oversight. - he cut it short. The remnants of his strength had just drained away. He closed his eyelids and sank deeper into the softness of the bedclothes. As if from afar, he heard Hawke call his name, and then the Fade took him. The hazy and distorted images he knew so well surrounded him. He was overwhelmed by an unusual calm. Maker, was this the end of his journey?

- We can't end it this way. - he heard behind him as if in answer. He turned to see his own reflection. No... not exactly a reflection. The man standing before him only partially resembled him. His body was covered with deep markings which glowed light blue.

- Justice. - he said firmly.

- Our mission is not finished. - said the glowing man. - We must bring justice to the mages.

Anders sighed and lowered his gaze.

- I don't know if this is the right way.

- It is the right one! - a loud voice ripped through the air. The mage raised his gaze sharply as he saw the blue cracks in the spirit's skin pulsate. - The time for half-measures is long past. Compromise is no longer achievable.

Anders clenched his teeth. He wanted freedom for the mages but what if he will lose the only person he cared about through this revolution? The thought that he might never see her again or sink into those pink lips filled him with dread.

- That woman is distracting you too much. - he heard suddenly. His honey-colored eyes widened. - She's distracting you from your goal. You need to end this.

He was silent for a long moment staring at the ghost.

- No. - he said carefully.

- I beg your pardon? - despite the blue veins, the ghost's face showed surprise.

- No. - Anders said more firmly. - I will not end this. Hawke is a too important part of my life.

-Changes require sacrifices. It requires dedication and giving up your attachment to something other than the cause.

- I will not give her up! - growled Anders suddenly.

- Why not? She doesn't even believe in our mission Anders. She is not a mage. She will never understand.

- If it wasn't for her there would be no mission. Right now she's trying to save my life.

- If it weren't for her you wouldn't even need to be saved. You would have been focused on the task long ago and the templars wouldn't have had time to find you.

- That's not... - he fell silent as Justice moved toward him at lightning speed. He heard the swish of a sword and the gleaming blade plunged into his right side. Unimaginable pain seized his body and a scream from his own throat nearly deafened him. It felt as if a white-hot iron had pierced him through.

- This is the reward for your procrastination. It's time to act, Anders. Time to choose.

He fell to his knees. The pain was tearing at his side, making it impossible to collect his thoughts. Makers breath, it was as if someone was gutting him alive. With misty eyes, he saw the spirit moving away. He wanted to scream, but no sound came out of his throat. His left hand flailed on the ground supporting his body. His right hand clutched at his wounded side. Suddenly he heard someone's voice. It sounded like an echo carried through the mountain valley. Only after a moment did he realize that the voice was calling his name. Another wave of pain completely knocked him out.

- Anders! - he heard quite clearly now. It felt like he was emerging from the water. All his senses began to provide new sensations. He opened his eyes abruptly and jerked all his muscles.

- Makers' balls, hold him down! - another voice rang out. Someone pressed his hands against the bed, preventing him from moving. He heard someone sigh. - I almost cut his whole side.

He knew that voice from somewhere. He just couldn't remember where. He looked to his right. Hawke was holding his arm. She wasn't looking at him. Her worried gaze glanced in the opposite direction. He tried to raise his head. It worked for a brief moment. The golden-haired woman was leaning over him with a small knife. Blood was covering her hands, part of her clothing, and her forehead.

- Mira? - that was all he managed to croak out before his head fell back against the pillows. He heard the woman move. Sitting next to him, Hawke continued to hold his arm.

- Yes, Anders. It's me. I've come to make sure the templars don't finish the job.

The mage furrowed his brow. A million questions ran through his mind.

- How...? - he whispered.

- It's not important now. - she cut him off quickly. - First, we have to pull this damn thing out of your side and make sure you don't bleed out like a slaughtered piglet.

- Subtle as ever. Blondie is in good hands. - the sarcastic voice of the dwarf came from somewhere on the left. It was him holding up his other hand.

- You recruit the best Varric. - said the woman with amusement and then focused all her attention on the mage. Seriousness shone from her green eyes. - Anders you know what I'm going to do now. - that was a statement. He nodded slightly. - I wanted to pull it out while you were unconscious, but you didn't give me the opportunity.

He didn't say anything. Subconsciously he was already preparing himself for what was to come. Once again he felt the cool glass against his mouth. This time the sweetish liquid settled on his tongue. Felandaris. He wondered how much the concoction would help him endure the whole process of taking out the wooden bolt. He hoped it would significantly.