Chapter 52: The Broken Circle
The apprentices' dorm had become a slaughterhouse.
The smell of burnt flesh and death filled the darkened corridors. Bodies of mages, apprentices, and Templars littered the hall, people who had not managed to make it out before the Templars closed the great doors. He saw no demons or abominations which was surprising.
What would an abomination even look like? He had never seen one before, and the only demons he had ever seen was in Honnleath, and during his Harrowing.
The silence was deafening, perhaps Greagoir was right.
Perhaps there was no one left in here to be saved.
Alim shivered.
Alim glanced down, a girl lay dead against the entrance to one of the rooms, she still clutched a medallion bearing the seal of Andraste.
She might have been pretty once, but some spell had horribly twisted her features. A Templar sword was sticking out of her chest.
Had she started to turn? Had the Templar killed the girl to protect others, or had the man been ensorcelled forced to kill innocents?
Did it matter anymore?
Leliana leaned down, her face sad, her gaze downcast.
She reached up and closed the girl's eyes.
"May the Maker take you into his arms," she whispered, "May you know rest at his side."
Alim gave her a grateful look.
She gave him a sad smile and rose.
Morrigan snorted.
"I see no demons," she said flatly.
"Noticed that to huh?" Alim said shaking his head.
"Perhaps the Templars did this," she sneered, "Perhaps they are lying about the abominations, they could have killed these mages to appease their god."
Leliana gave the witch a dirty look.
She smiled in return.
"I don't think so," Alim said grimly, "You can feel it the same as I. There is dark magic at work here."
Morrigan sniffed and fell silent.
"Why would anyone do this?" Theron asked, the boy was pale and looked ill. "Why would they lock up magic users in a place like this? Magic is a gift of the gods."
"The chantry does not need a reason Dalish," Morrigan replied, "If you do not follow their rules they see you as an enemy. Many apostates do not use the forbidden blood arts. Maleficarum do, but to lock someone away because of what they might do creates a dangerous precedence."
"Many mages have no one to train them," Leliana reminded her.
"Then let the mages live here and police themselves," Morrigan scoffed, "Templars see themselves as the right hand of their god. How long before they decide that they alone know what is best for Thedas? How long before they decide that the world would be better off without magic?"
"The priests would not allow that?" Leliana hissed.
""You truly believe that?" Morrigan sneered.
"Enough," Alim barked, silencing the two women. These were old arguments, and did not change the reality in front of them.
They still had to find any survivors, and deal with any demons that they came across.
Best everyone just focus on that.
The elf led them forward. Alistair at his side, Alim hated to admit it, but never was he more grateful to know someone with Templar training, any demons they encountered would likely be very powerful now, having gorged themselves on life energy and magic.
A Templar would come in very handy.
The door leading into the library was closed, Alim thought he heard voices but he wasn't sure.
Alistair and Seri took point. Theron and Zev stayed back to cover the mages and Leliana. Bandit growled; the Mabari was eager to attack any threat to his master.
Alim motioned that the door be opened. Seri stepped forward with Alistair covering her. The former Templar nodded.
The dwarf threw open the door.
A rage demon slithered across the floor, leaving a trail of burning slime in its wake. Alim counted at least twenty children, children who were now cowering in a corner while several mages formed human shields in front of them.
Apprentices, Alim realized, poor children, they should not have had to live through this.
An old woman in crimson circle robes stepped forward, she faced down the demon. The woman's white hair was drawn into a short ponytail, her blue eyes hard and unyielding; she glared at the creature with grim determination.
She faced the demon with an upraised staff.
It did not seem afraid of her.
The creature reared up, preparing to claw her.
The old mage cast. Alim felt the magic in the air roar. Power swept through the room.
The woman was clearly a master enchanter.
Cold assaulted the creature, it wailed as it flames were extinguished. The demon crumbled into soggy ash.
The old woman nodded grimly.
"Nice work," Alim called out.
The woman spun ready for another attack.
Alim raised his hands.
"Easy, we're on the same side."
Some of the hardness faded from her face, but her eyes remained wary.
You," she said thoughtfully, "I know you, don't I? You are Irving's old apprentice, Lim something wasn't it?"
"Alim,' he clarified, "I'm surprised you remembered me, senior enchanter…?"
"My name is Wynne," the woman replied, "And you caused quite a stir before you left the tower. You should not be surprised that the mages here remember you."
Alim gave her a sheepish grin.
Wynne? Why did that name sound so familiar? She was a senior enchanter sure, but…he knew he had heard it somewhere else before.
He could not remember where.
And, he had not realized that what he and Jowan did had become known to others.
He probably should have expected it though, nothing stayed secret in the circle for long.
"What are you doing here?" Wynne asked, "The doors were sealed, why did the Templars let you in?"
"I'm trying to help Greagoir solve his Abomination problem," Alim replied, "and find out what happened here."
Wynne's eyes turned flinty again.
"I'm afraid we had a bit of a…revolt on our hands, led by one of the senior enchanters, Uldred." Wynne's scowl deepened. "We were at Ostagar together, but he returned before the final battle took place, returned and tried to take over the circle, this was the result."
Alim shook his head; again the battle of Ostagar cast a long shadow over everything.
He had a feeling that Loghain might have been involved in this as well.
The old mage gave him a worried look; she no doubt realized what the Templars would have to do if this matter was not resolved quickly.
"Do the Templars plan on attacking the tower now?"
"You're all safe for now," Alim said, "The Rite of Annulment has not arrived yet, and Greagoir is waiting for reinforcements."
The other mages' faces paled at the mention of the rite, several of the older children sobbed. The younger ones remained oblivious; they were talking excitedly about Bandit.
They were too young to understand the danger that they all now faced.
The elder mages looked to the old woman for leadership.
"They sent for it then," Wynne sighed, "Greagoir probably believes that we are all dead, but even trapped as we are we survive." She gestured to the door way that the rage demon had passed through; a shimmering wall of light blocked the way.
"I've erected a barrier here," She said motioning to it. "I needed to make sure that nothing could get through to attack the children, but that is no longer an option. We must end this before the rite arrives. If you agree to help me, I'm certain that we will be able to pacify the tower. If we slay all the demons we encounter, Greagoir will have to back down, he is not unreasonable."
Alim sniffed, Wynne obviously had a higher opinion of Greagoir than he did.
"He will only believe it if the First Enchanter says it is safe," Alim said.
"Then our path is clear," Wynne nodded, "We must find Irving. Will you help us?" Alim could hear the desperation in the old woman's voice, not that he blamed her.
"Will you join with me? Together we may be able to save the circle."
Alim considered her request, once again he found himself being drawn into the problems of others, but the point remained, he still needed the mages' help.
I can't let it end like this, every mage here slaughtered like some blighted…apple crop.
He gave her a stern look.
"We must save everyone we can," he said, "The Blight still rages beyond these walls. The wardens still need aid."
Wynne's posture relaxed considerably. Several of the mages gave a sigh of relief.
The old woman turned to two of the most senior of them.
"Petra, Kinnon watch over the others, I will be back soon."
"Wynne," a red haired mage said stepping forward, "You were badly hurt earlier, maybe I should come along?"
"The others need you here Petra," Wynne insisted, "Keep them safe and calm."
"They will not be alone," Alim promised. He leaned down and patted Bandit.
"Stay and watch over these little ones," he ordered.
The dog whimpered; he did not like being separated from his master.
"They can use your help boy," he said smiling, "Help the kids, keep their minds off of all this. I know I don't play with you like I should. Let them just be children for a while, have fun with them, but keep them safe."
Bandit barked happily, wagging his stubby tail. He bounded over to the children, several of the younger ones giggled.
Leliana smiled at him.
"What?" he said.
"Softy," she replied.
"He'll keep them safe."
Morrigan rolled her eyes.
"Can we go now," the witch complained, "Before I feel the urge to projectile vomit?"
Charming Alim thought, still Morrigan had a point. They were wasting time.
"Okay," he said looking up at Wynne, "We're ready, let us end this."
IOI
Wynne lead the way. Leliana found herself growing impressed with the old woman. She carried herself with a spryness she would not have expected from a senior mage.
Wynne lowered the barriers, allowing them to enter the circle library.
They encountered the first abomination a few moments later.
It was horrifying.
The bard had never seen anything like it. It still looked like a person, mostly, or perhaps it was fair to say something wearing a person. The skin was bulged out and misshapen, the flesh grayed, the milky eyes wild and mad.
She did not hesitate. These creatures were not human anymore, they shrieked like the damned, and tried to rip into her friends.
She put an arrow through its right eye. A Dalish arrow joined hers seconds later, fired by Theron into its left eye.
The creature collapsed.
She glanced over at the hunter turned warden, he was smiling at her.
"Not bad, Lethallan," he said, "You're almost as good as a…"
The abomination exploded, spattering the party in goo.
Everyone was mortified. Leliana squealed at the horrific development.
"Disgusting," Seri growled.
"Let's try to keep our distance from now on," Alim advised.
"A wise decision warden," Zevran sniffed wiping abomination from one of his shoulder plates.
They continued deeper into the library, several more abominations tried to attack them, but they were crazed and no match for seasoned warriors.
"They have not adjusted to being in our world yet," Alistair said sagely, "They are too lost in what they are feeling in mortal sensation to use their magic, we should count ourselves fortunate."
"Another reason to end this quickly," Wynne advised.
No one disagreed with the elder mage on that point.
They did need to end this quickly.
IOI
Morrigan slipped away from the others.
She reached out with her magic, trying to sense her mother's wards, if the book was here. She should sense it.
Not that it would be easy to find in such disarray, the abominations cared nothing for knowledge. They had built a bonfire in the middle of the room, using old tomes for fuel.
Alim came up beside her.
"Your Mum's book in there?" he asked.
Morrigan's amber eyes narrowed.
"No," she replied, "I would sense it if it was, even in its destruction it would leave an echo."
He nodded and went to return to the others.
"Alim?" the witch whispered.
He stopped.
She gave him puzzled look.
"Why did you stay here?" she asked, "Why did you not use your powers to free yourself?"
"Where would I have gone?" he asked, "The chantry has my phylactery. They would have hunted me down like a dog in a matter of days. Besides, I wasn't the same man back then, I did not know what a stormbreaker was, nor had access to my full potential. I…I hate to admit it, but I needed the circle, Irving helped me master my emotions, without his training…I…I would likely have died years ago.
The witch's eyes narrowed.
"You are fond of this…Irving?"
"I respect him. He protected me when no one else would have. The Knight-Commander would have seen me made tranquil. Irving stood up for me, he thought me worth something. I owe it to him to at least try to save him."
Morrigan nodded, it made sense she supposed.
The group continued forward.
IOI
The next floor led to the circle stockroom, everyone tensed as they emerged inside of it. So many crates and shelves were perfect cover for ambush.
A single figure stepped out from behind the shelves. Alim nearly fried him with lightning. It was a man, dressed in plain gray robes. He held up his hands in surrender.
"Please forgive the state of the stockroom," he said in a flat monotone, "It is a mess and I have not yet gotten it fit to be seen."
Alim lowered his staff.
"Owain?" he said.
"Yes," the man replied coldly, "It is I Owain."
Morrigan sniffed with distaste.
"A tranquil," she spat.
Theron approached her.
"Tranquil?" the Dalish asked, his ears twitching with curiosity, "What does tranquil mean?"
Morrigan was about to give her opinion, but Wynne beat her to it.
"The tranquil are the merchants of the circle," the old mage said, "They are mages who have been stripped of their powers; it stills their dreams and emotions. It gives them a sense of logic and concentration that no normal mage could…"
Theron's eyes widened in horror, the elf turned a little green.
"They…they strip people of emotions of their very dreams?"
"Well, yes…but…"
"Barbaric," the Dalish spat, "Your chantry approves of this? Of turning people into…this?!"
"It is not that simple Theron," Alistair said.
"Nor is it is done lightly," Wynne clarified, "It is used only as the most extreme of punishments or a mage can choose to undergo the right if they do not wish to face the harrowing."
The Dalish was not accepting that.
He glared at the elder mage.
"Your people call mine barbarians and heathens, but if you do this to your own kind…YOU ARE THE BARBARIANS!" he growled, "The elvhen would never do this to one of their own! Magic is a gift of the creators. If anyone ever did this to Merrill…I…I would…"
"There is no reason to be upset," Owain said, "I chose this existence and I am content within my role."
Theron looked at the man, at the angry red brand on his forehead, the elf shivered. He glared at Wynne and Alistair.
"Your people, your chantry, you should all be ashamed of yourselves."
Morrigan smirked.
"Well said elf," she said.
Wynne glared at the witch.
Alim stepped in before another argument broke out.
"Owain, you should head downstairs, the mages have secured a room just outside of the library you will be safe there."
The tranquil nodded.
"The stockroom is familiar, I shall stay here," the tranquil replied, "I do not wish to die. I would prefer that the circle return to the state it was before, perhaps Niall will succeed and save us all."
Alim's ears twitched.
"Who?' he asked.
"Niall the mage," the tranquil repeated, "He and several others came here and took the Litany of Adralla."
Wynne's eyes widened, she recognized the name.
"It protects against mind domination," she informed the others, "Owain did any of the others mention if blood magic was involved here?"
"I do not know," the tranquil replied.
Wynne shook her head.
"Blood magic," she muttered, "I was afraid of this."
"What is the problem?" Seri asked.
"Blood magic can manipulate minds," the old mage warned.
"Then we do not give them the chance," Alim said coldly, "I can dispel magic with my spells and Ali here is templar trained."
"Those things will help," Wynne admitted, "But we must find Niall the Litany will protect us from any blood mages we encounter."
It was a plan Alim realized, not a great one, but a plan none the less.
They pushed forward, into the senior enchanter's section of the tower.
It was then that they heard screaming.
IOI
Zevran, Theron, and Leliana moved ahead of the group, to see what was causing it. Everyone realized that rushing in would likely lead to death.
Leliana kept her daggers ready, in close quarters her bow would not do much, and as much as she did not like the idea of getting too close, in the confines of the tower there was no choice.
They came across three mages, who had a fourth trapped in a swirling cage of blood magic. It was a young woman, her long black hair fell past her waist. Her pale face was twisted in agony.
Leliana's eyes turned cold.
The poor girl.
"We should take her to Uldred," one of them said.
"He is not really Uldred anymore," the second replied, "Besides, why should he have all the fun."
"I don't consider this fun," the third replied, she was young, still dressed in apprentice robes.
"You have to learn to take pleasure in your gifts," the first replied, "I…"
He never got the chance to finish.
One of Zevran's throwing knives pierced his neck, the mage fell gurgling to the floor.
The two remaining mages turned, both slit their hands, blood began to rise.
Alistair gestured.
A holy smite struck the two blood mages, flinging them across the floor.
Leliana darted forward, she pinned the girl to the ground. A blade pressed firmly to the girl's throat.
"Don't move," the bard hissed.
"Don't kill me," the girl whimpered, "please."
Leliana did not remove the blade.
She was taking no chances.
IOI
Alim readied a spell, the man may have been weakened, but he was still a threat.
"Tanya you coward," the male blood mage spat at his defeated companion, he drew his staff.
He was outnumbered but that did not seem to bother him.
He sneered evilly.
"Uldred will still win," he laughed, "We shall sweep away the chantry here in Ferelden! We will have our freedom! We will…"
He gasped, hiccupping blood. He fell forward to the ground.
Zevran stood behind him, an amused smile on the assassins face.
"If you are going to fight, fight, do not talk," he said to the corpse.
The mage was beyond replying.
The mage they had been torturing slumped to the ground, freed by Alistair's Templar abilities. She gasped, sobbing weakly.
Alim was at her side, healing magic flowed from his hands.
"It is alright," he murmured, "Your safe now."
The girl sat up.
"Bless you," she sobbed, "Maker bless you. I…I thought…"
She looked into the elf's face for the first time. She adjusted the dwarven spectacles she wore.
"Lona?" Alim whispered.
"Alim?" she said wiping her eyes, "Alim is that you? I'm not dreaming?"
"It is me Lona," he grinned, "Glad to see you're…"
The girl threw her arms around the elf, murmuring thanks to the Maker against his shoulder.
Alim was pleased to see at least one of his friends had survived. He did not have many friends, besides Jowan.
Solona Amell was one of them.
He was pleased to see she still lived.