"This is ridiculous!"
Jowan groaned obnoxiously as he stared down the parchment in front of him. His tangle of black hair was sprayed across his face, making him look much older than he was. He held his head in his hands, bearing down on his work. Solona watched him wearily, cautious of her friend's temperamental mood.
Paper littered their table, droplets of ink slowly shedding off the pages. Books of all oddities were stacked precariously beside them, most of them worn and faded with age. In all, their usual spot in the Circle library was a disaster. And Jowan wasn't making things better. He dropped his forehead onto the table, creating an incredibly loud smack around the room. No one looked up to stare, knowing exactly who had caused it. He had been around long enough to be recognizable by others. It wasn't uncommon for him to be found complaining about something or other. This was just one of his usual meltdowns.
And Solona was unfortunate enough to hear it all. As his best (and possibly only) friend, it was her royal duty to nod her head as Jowan revealed all his complaints to the world. She sat across from him, a book laid in front of her. Her own work had been finished days ago (Jowan had pleaded to copy her writing) and was tucked beneath her bed. She had come to the library to read, like most people would. But Jowan had followed her in, spewing complaints. All she could do was bare with it and hope he left soon.
"What is the First Enchanter thinking?" He huffed. "I can't write two essays in one week! I haven't even finished Enchanter Sweeny's assignment."
He pushed a paper towards her, clearly the project Sweeny assigned. Solona had to strain to read the letters; Jowan's handwriting was atrocious. Not that it mattered, the words themselves made very little sense at all. It wasn't hard to see why he was stressed. He didn't exactly shine with intelligence.
Solona shook her thoughts away. It was a rude thing to think about a friend, and she didn't like to make a habit of insulting others. Sighing, she pushed a piece of auburn hair out of her face and pulled Jowan's paper towards her.
Poor Jowan... I'm sure things will get better some day.
She did her best to read his work, trying hard to hide her expression from him. The paper really was bad.
"It's alright, it just needs a little work is all." Her voice was quiet. Even if they weren't sitting in a library, it wouldn't become much louder. She didn't like drawing attention. It was pretty clear that Solona was shy, always careful not to stand out. Being noticed made her feel self conscious and paranoid. She had always been subtle person.
But Jowan was not.
"It is NOT alright! There is no way i'll be able to pass the criteria and then i'll never become a mage and i'll be stuck as an apprentice forever and-"
"Jowan please stop shouting, people are trying to study."
He sighed, looking defeated. Dark shadows were painted beneath his eyes. Solona had seen them the other day too, it was clear he hadn't been sleeping. Some of the other apprentices seemed to think they saw him here in the library, nose buried in a book. Very strange for Jowan.
"Is everything okay? I haven't seen you sleep in a long time..."
"What? N-no," he stuttered. "Everything's fine. I've just been doing some extra studying at night. Of course everything's okay."
Solona stared, but didn't reply. It wasn't hard to see through him.
What are you hiding from me Jowan?
But no matter how curious she was, she let him have the benefit of the doubt and dropped the subject. The air had become thick with tension, and it had become pretty clear that the conversation was done.
Jowan completely stopped talking, looking past Solona with exhaustion. He let his face fall back onto the table again, creating the same awful sound as before. She sighed, resting her head in her hands. Their moods were incredibly parallel to one another. Frustrated and annoyed. And chances were that the cloud of darkness hanging over them wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. Life in the Circle was always dull like this, nothing but work to do and little time to do it. Solona was never the type of mage to openly scold the Chantry. She knew the magic in her blood was pure power, and with power came danger. The Circle was where she belonged, for the safety of others and her own. But sometimes, her life felt tedious. Colorless. Nothing to do with herself but read and study. Sometimes, she really did wish to go farther than the walls allowed her to. Out there, she could do so much more. Maybe then her days wouldn't so... lifeless.
No. You shouldn't think like that. Don't cling to meaningless thoughts of freedom and happiness. It's better to face the truth. The Circle of Magi will always be your home. Always.
"Solona?"
She blinked, lifting her head to see a dark haired mage standing in front of her. It took her a moment to realize it was Niall. He was older than her, about Jowan's age. But his silent personality fit Solona more. Even so, it wasn't common for him to seek her out.
She smiled politely, as Niall eyed Jowan wearily. He didn't bother looking up at their guest.
"I apologize if this is a bad time..."
When is it not?
"Of course not, did you need something?"
He turned his attention back to her, looking oddly disturbed. "I have orders from the FIrst Enchanter to inform all of the apprentices and mages to report to main floor. It's... something about the Templars."
This time, Jowan lifed himself off the table, looking at Niall as if he'd brought the worst news possible. And for once, Solona agreed.
Templars. The soldiers of the Chantry in charge of holding the mages' leash. It was never good when the Templars and Mages had to converse with one another. Prisoners don't usually talk openly to the guards. As a mage, you're expected to hate the Templars and vice versa. But Solona never particularly hated them. She had no personal quarrel with them, but as a mage, they would always be enemies. And when your job was to keep captives locked away from the world, you didn't earn much sympathy.
Jowan shook his head over and over again. "Did Irving say why? They aren't searching our rooms again are they?"
Again, Solona glanced at him, curious.
Secret study sessions, hidden objects in your room, What is going on with you? And why would you hide it from me?
Niall shrugged sheepishly. "He didn't say, but he didn't look too happy." He mumbled. "I need to inform the rest of the mages." He nodded awkwardly at two of them. "See you around I guess."
Solona and Jowan turned to one another, both looking skeptical and ready to bail on the meeting. After cleaning their mess (Particularly Jowan's) they made their way to the main floor. Many of the other mages had already arrived, standing awkwardly in the open area. They murmured to one another in confusion. This was far from normal procedure. Templars were stationed on the walls, as still as stone. That on the other hand was normal. They're was no way of telling how they felt. The helmets covered any and all emotions. Irving and Greagoir stood stiffly beside each other, facing the crowd. And behind them, was the door.
A door. Just a few inches of wood was all that kept her confined. To think there was an entire new world just inches away, and she would never be able to see it. The fate of a mage.
"Quiet down now and listen."
Greagoir's voice echoed in the room, silencing every mage at once. His cold gaze swept across each of them, analyzing them. It was the stare of a Templar, searching for the slightest hint of corruption. He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word.
"There have been reports about some very strange activities going on..."
"Yes, we do VERY strange things in our freetime!"
A group of mages snickered.
Greagoir didn't bat an eye. "I said quiet, this is a serious matter."
The laughter died down.
"Now," he continued. "More and more reports have come in about mages who have developed a new way to spend their time, particularly in the Forbidden side of the library. The books that reside there are also forbidden, due to the information stored inside. On Blood Magic."
Gasps erupted from the room, but Greagoir continued. "You have all been warned to stay away, and yet we continue receiving reports of an apprentice who has ignored our warnings. This cannot be aloud. We have already issued orders about this behavior. I will not stand for this corruption to spread. Too many times have these acts led to destruction. This disobediencewill stop. Today."
Whispers filled the room. Irving simply stared downwards, not willing to scold his apprentices. Solona couldn't blame him. She peaked at Jowan from the corner of her eye. He was pale, a dab of sweat on his brow. She quietly took one of his hands, giving it a gentle squeeze. He was cold and clammy.
Whatever's going on, Jowan, I'm here for you.
Greagoir stepped aside, and Irving slowly stepped in front of him to address his pupils. They all stared with apprehension, waiting to be given their punishment. Jowan squeezed Solona's hand back.
"The Chantry has decided that the mages have become too rebellious... and have given us a new commandment." He paused, letting the news sink in.
"From this point on, all mages will beindividually monitored by a Templar from dawn till dusk. No excuses."
Silence. No one uttered a word, just stared in horror and rage at the Templars beside them. They were both horrified and appalled. What little privacy they had would now dissipate. Every move, every word, every breath would be monitored. And Templars weren't known for being merciful towards their captives. They would control every move the mages made, and if they refused to comply, then a false report would be placed on their heads. Life would become pure, undeniable misery. It was a disconcerting thought, one that turned Solona's blood cold.
She flinched suddenly, A sharp pain shooting through her hand. Jowan was holding on too tight. She lightly tugged away from him.
"Jowan..."
He blinked, confused. Seeing his hand crushing hers, he quickly let go.
"Sorry..."
"Nervous?" It was an obvious question. He looked as if he were about to hurl. But instead, he shrugged, refusing to make eye contact.
As soon as the new demands were made, the Templars guided the mages into a circle, herding them like cattle. The mages, who would usually become spiteful, were too shocked to do anything else but obey. In the little space they had, the formed a large and incredibly disfigured line. Irving and Greagoir stood at the front, staring back at the angry and terrified faces. Solona stood in the back, peering over the heads of others to see. Jowan trailed behind her, still lost in thought. She did her best to see above the other mages, cursing her short stature in the process.
"Anders and Rylock."
As Greagoir called out the names, two people stepped forward. Solona recognized them both as a Templar and a mage. The Templar, an older woman with a stern face, glared with disgust at her new charge. The Mage, a young blonde with a quirky smile, was smirking back at her. Irving spoke a few words to them both, then released them through the door.
Jowan nudged her impatiently. "What are they doing?"
"It looks like they are pairing us with a Templar, the one that's keeping watch over us." She replied, just as another group of names was called out.
He whimpered in response, sliding back behind her.
The longer they waited, the smaller the circle of mages became. And every mage that left forced them closer and closer to the Templars. Pushing them into the arms of their captives, the only thing that held them back. Like chains to a prison wall.
"Jowan and Irminric."
Jowan stiffened, his face frozen in fear. Solona didn't know if he was actually responsible for those what had happened, but his reaction said enough. He'd done something wrong, she just didn't know how severe it was.
She gently coaxed him forward as Irving and Greagoir watched them from afar. The Templar who stood beside them was much older than expected. He had dark, reddish hair with a matching beard that covered his gentle features. He looked to be about late thirties, with the eyes of someone with experience. He didn't glare at Jowan, nor did he smile maliciously. Instead, he simply nodded his head curtly. Jowan didn't seem to know how to respond. With one last glance at Solona, he left, the Templar right behind him. Solona watched them go, feeling as if it was the last she'd ever see of him.
"Solona, my dear."
She snapped her head away from the door, looking back towards Irving. The other mages used to joke about how ancient we was, but Solona could see the wisdom and truth behind his age. He was more than just a dying man, he was kind, gentle, understanding, and he was the closest thing she could ever consider a father. He smiled sadly, seeing her defeated expression.
"There's no need to fret. Jowan will still be there once you finish. You will still be able to accomplish your daily routine, just with the Templars watching a little closer than usual."
No, we won't. The Templars will never let us live peacefully. We'll be used as slaves, forced to do whatever they desire of us.
"First Enchanter..." She paused, "Are we not scrutinized enough? What more do they wish to see?"
Irving shook his head, like a father scolding a child. "Those are not the questions you should be asking. Rather what can we do to show them that they don't need to see? We must show that the mages are responsible enough to behave in the circle's and away from the Chantry's eyes."
Greagoir intervened. "Magic shall always be under the Chantry's gaze, for it will always be under the Templar's."
Irving glared for a moment, then moved on. "This unfortunate event has made things... difficult for mages, but we will continue fighting as we always have." His words were deep, cutting the conversation to an end. "Come, we've wasted enough time. Let us find you your Templar."
He motioned for her to turn, just as Greagoir walked away. She watched as he approached another Templar, extending his arm towards Solona and Irving. As soon as the man looked in her direction, she put her head down on impulse. Even after their footsteps drew near, she refused to look up.
Dear Maker, please let him be merciful. Please.
"Solona... and Cullen."
Finally, she lifted her chin. And instantly met the eyes of the Templar.
He blinked, as if he wasn't sure how to react to her presence. He had to be about the same age, perhaps older. Tall and lean, with a boyish face and light blonde hair swept back from his face. Even with his timid expression, he was incredibly striking.
Neither one of them could move, staring awkwardly at one another. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came and he instantly shut it again. She couldn't seem to look away either, just as dumbstruck. It was a ridiculous thing to do, like staring into the eyes of a beast. This was your enemy, your demise, and yet you can't seem to look away, captivated. A mage with an unreasonable fixation with a Templar. Pitiful
It wasn't until Greagoir cleared his throat that they broke their gaze. Cullen coughed self consciously while Solona put her head back down, blushing.
Idiot. What are you blushing for? It's his job to stare at you.
Irving, who acted oblivious to the entire affair, spoke in his usual calming voice. "My my, it seems the moon is already upon us. Its time for my old bones to rest for the day. You may now join your friends once again, my dear. Please make wise choices and continue your studying."
"And stay away from the forbidden side of the library." Greagoir warned.
"Yes, of course. I... Thank you."
And just like that, they withdrew, leaving Cullen alone with his new charge. His eyes wavered on her with hesitation. Solona took the chance while she could, and bolted out of the room. She heard the man let out a surprised exclamation as he did his best to keep up with her pace. She contemplated slowing down, but the thought having a conversion was nerve-racking. The perks of being anti-social. She didn't wait to see if he had followed her through the door, just rushed through, her eyes darting around the halls in search of Jowan. The path she took was stretched all across the Circle, nearly impossible to follow. It was unlikely that he'd continue searching for her.
By the time she made it back to her quarters, the day had become completely replaced by night. Jowan, along with a few other mages, were sprawled across the room, talking aimlessly. As soon as he spotted Solona, he jumped off of his bed and rushed forward.
"Its about time, where have you been? We thought your Templar had done something to you!"
The thought of the blonde haired soldier doing something cruel was laughable. Solona couldn't see him as the type to hurt others without reason.
"I spoke with the First Enchanter for a bit, the Templar isn't to blame. He hasn't done anything yet."
Jowan narrowed his eyes shrewdly. "Not yet. But he will, just like the rest of them. They'll make life more miserable than it is now."
Two other mages nodded in agreement. One of them she recognized as Anders, who smiled cheerfully without a care in the world. The other was a stranger, though barely. Solona had often seen the blonde haired woman gossiping among the other apprentices. They both seemed to approve of Jowan's anti-Templar attitude, as did many in the Circle. But not Solona. She couldn't seem to put judgement on the man from moments ago.
"It's late," she replied. "I should be retiring now."
Jowan nodded. "Better get some sleep while we can without anyone staring us down. I'll wake you in the morning, just in case the Templars decide to take their job too seriously and actually come into our quarters."
They all climbed into their beds, letting the stress of the day dissipate in their dreams. Where the demons run amok and sifted through their thoughts. Solona didn't rest her eyes with the others. She stared vacantly at the ceiling, still caught on the image of the man's face. He was just a Templar, nothing more. And yet, he caught her attention like no one else could. To think this one soldier could change so much. She didn't understand how he could control her like he did. But even so, she didn't pull away from the feeling. It was a welcome change, no matter how odd or foreign. She embraced it. Because for once in her small, meaningless life, she feltalive.