A sharp knocking on his door roused him from his somewhat fitful slumber. One week had passed, and Sebastian was already sick of this simple lifestyle. What did they do for fun? Did they know what fun was? That was perhaps a better question. Every time anyone had free time, he could find them in their quarters, memorizing the Chant. And the quiet! How could they stand it being so quiet all the time? It was driving him insane! No one ever seemed to come to the Chantry either, so he felt isolated. Oh, and don't forget about bored. Very, very bored. He sighed and rolled out of his bed to avoid making the bed later.
"Good morning, Maker," he grumbled as he passed the statuette of Andraste. "Good morning, Andraste."
He walked over and put on the robes that were given him, palming some sugar that he hid in the armoire in the process. He hated the colors of the robes. They were far too dark for his liking. He liked the lighter ones that he had seen Ferelden Sisters wearing on a few of his trips there with his family.
He made his way down to the dining room and took a seat across from one of the younger sisters. Looking at her, you wouldn't know that she was one of the more stringent women in the Chantry. She'd hit him on the head with a really heavy book the day before when he was daydreaming on his cleaning duty shift. This ain't Starkhaven, boy. He swore even his hair had bruised. Right now she was staring at him, as if she were trying to assess whether she needed to hit him again. He resolved to get his chores done as quickly as he could so he could get out of the Chantry and explore the city.
Breakfast was served and he could barely contain the disgusted look he so wanted to give to the porridge sitting in front of him. The Chantry believed that leading a simple life would bring you closer to the Maker. That, unfortunately, apparently included spices of any sort. The food here was so bland. He sprinkled in the sugar he had brought down with him. The sister he had decided to sit across from gave him a pointed glare and he just smiled in return. At least sugar made this slop palatable. He missed the fresh fruits he had back home.
As soon as breakfast was declared over, Sebastian shot up to look at the chores list for the day. He had a puzzled look on his face when Grand Cleric Elthina came over and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Confused, lad?" she asked.
He looked up into her kind eyes.
"I've no chores today, Grand Cleric?" he asked.
"No, Sebastian. Today, you and I are taking a walk through the city. I need to do some shopping and I would like some help carrying the materials back to the Chantry," she explained. "That is what is required of you today."
Sebastian was still confused, and he opened his mouth to ask a question that disappeared as soon as the first word began to form on his lips.
"It should take less than two hours. Then you have the rest of the day to yourself. Please. Explore your new home."
Well, that's one way of getting out of the Chantry. He nodded. He was a helper when he was younger with some of the kitchen staff at his family's estate. This couldn't be any harder than that, surely.
An hour later, Sebastian found himself covered in dirt and pollen, listening to Grand Cleric Elthina tell tales of her wild youth, as she insisted on putting it. Some of it made him chuckle as he tried to imagine this sweet but sassy lass quite literally pulling the rug from under the viscount, or her burning the drapes as a lay sister, just to have something happen at the Chantry. He was carrying tubers, roots, and marigolds in the folds of his robes as they walked. He was going to be scrubbing out the stains for hours after this. Joy of joys, that. At least this was a respite from the agonizing silence of the Chantry.
He hadn't seen the city in a long time. It had been, what, nine years since he had properly seen the City of Chains? The walls seemed to be a more muted color of sandstone than he remembered it being. Still, it was a city he knew the general layout of, and he sighed and followed Elthina as she rounded the corner, her amusing stories coming to an end. For now, she had promised.
"Now, you're going to like this," she said as she turned around with a suspiciously large grin and a heavy bag. "Hold out your hand, Sebastian."
He bunched his robes into one hand and held out his hand as she asked. The loud clink of coin sounded as the bag hit his hand. He weighed it in his hand. There had to be at least 70 sovereigns in there! That had to be a year of saving for the Grand Cleric. He was appalled at the idea of taking that much money from her.
"Grand Cleric?"
"Go and pick one that you like, and get the matching set," she said, pointing into the storefront she had stopped in front of. "Your grandfather sent this coin for you, before you fret."
"My grandfather?" he asked. "Why?"
"He thought you would miss your routine," she said, that abnormally large smile still very much present. "Maker, just go in, boy!"
Sebastian cocked his head in confusion but entered the store. Bows, quivers full of arrows, and targets lined one of the walls. He was utterly elated. Elthina watched, fully entertained, as his eyes lit up as if he were a small child given free reign of a candy shop. If he were being honest with himself, he barely noticed the swords, daggers, and dummies throughout the rest of the store. Stained wood, white trim, and a golden grip caught his eye as he walked towards the archery section. He picked up the bow, weighed it in his hands, and drew the string to his ear. He smiled. Perfection personified, as if the Maker Himself had laid that bow there, just for him. He then moved to the quivers and picked one that matched the bow. He brought both to the counter and waved the store owner over.
"I'll have these, please."
The owner looked over at the Grand Cleric in the doorway. She nodded and he took Sebastian's new-found gold, counting out 65 gold pieces. That left Sebastian with 5 more gold pieces. Without a word, the store owner brought out a belt with several different pockets of varying sizes from under the counter and fistfuls of arrows from a nearby barrel.
"Your grandfather sent word ahead, my Prince," he said with a bow. "This and a target are to be free."
A Starkhavener? He thanked the Maker he wasn't the only one in this city.
"Thank you," he said as he bowed back, uncertain of his duty as a Prince given to the Chantry.
He walked out of that storefront as the happiest version of himself he had ever known, nearly skipping all the way back to the Chantry. Elthina merely shook her head in amusement at his pure joy and followed behind him.
