Over a year. It's been over a blighted year now. The longest year in my life, that's for sure. And maker preserve me, I still scribble this in my off hours. I wonder, if I were to look through my sisters desk in the estate, would it be the same? Would I find seven years worth of scribbled parchment? At least she's out of the quarantine wing now. I guess I should be grateful for that. A year in a cell, a year without sleeping straight for a night, a year with no social contact, other then being fed through bars, and a knight waking her up three times per night. Well, that, and my weekly visits. Another thing I should probably be grateful for, a courtesy few mages receive. I can't say those visits felt like a favor to me, but maker, I know they were necessary. I could see it in sisters eyes. Nothing I've done in my life, she's been more grateful for, then for those brief hours, mostly spent in idle talk, or even silence, leaned on my shoulder.
She flat out refused to tell me, what happened in between our visits, as did the knight captain. Perhaps for the best. Duty in the quarantine wing is reserved for those templars, that have proven to rest firmly in their faith. Heh. It's ironic, come to think of it. The way, my doubts have become obvious, the way many of the other templars have come to shun me, perhaps a mere year ago, I'd have blamed my sisters for that, as well. But those days are long gone.
But as much as I should be happy, that they moved sister out of that hole, that she's with Bethany now, and no longer under close supervision, but somehow, she still manages to surprise me. I've known her all my life you see, and I'd like to think I know her better then most, especially now, that I've practically taken her place. I've also seen the kind of company she's been keeping, since we arrived in Kirkwall, and I doubt that it's gotten any better, since I followed Bethany to the circle. That crazy elven bloodmage. That whiny bastard Anders, and the other loonies from the self proclaimed mage-underground. I know, before Bethany was caught, she even openly acted against the templars. I spoke up against her, back then, but much has happened, so much has happened since those happy days. For the last few month, the anticipations have been outright haunting me. When she'd get out of the quarantine, she'd begin to rebel against the templars. She'd try to undermine the circles rules, like she defied any rules I've ever seen imposed on her. I had expected, no hoped, to see the strength that I so envied, return. Maker, I half expected to be forced to choose, whether to stay or to help my sisters flee the circle, condemning us to a live on the run once more. Maker, I feared that choice, even after all the things that have happened. But it seems like Sis will never do, what I expect of her. And truthfully, I'm not sure if I am supposed to feel grateful, or if I am to be disappointed.
Since the got out of quarantine, she's done absolutely nothing of these things. I've seen her holding hands with Bethany, I've seen her in the courtyard, with the other mages in the courtyards, and the library. Maker, I've seen her bow her knee during the mess in the chantry. It would be far from the truth to say she appears happy, but for the lack of a better word... peaceful. No, tame. Like someone who has accepted, who is about to settle down.
Until that day. When they took her to the city, along with the other mages. No one in the circle, no one in the order, has any doubt about the questionable honor that is being part of these delegations. Some of the other knights even joke about it. About the knight commander, "showing off her leashed beasts". An abasement, beyond what I would ever be willing to take. And yet somehow I doubt, it was embarrassment, that put her in the sorry state, she was in, when they brought her back to the circle. That was yesterday. Even when we got the word that father died, I haven't seen her that devastated, that helpless. And yet, no yelling, no screaming, no incinerating bystanders. The next morning, just a few hours ago, I saw her sitting the courtyard, with Bethany and that Starkhaven girl we met years ago. Sis still as pale, the eyes reddened, but otherwise as polite and obedient, as she's been ever since they let her out of the cell. An unbearable sight, even for me. I've kept silent so far, but today, I could keep it down, no longer. When I confronted her, I had a hard time not to yell, maker, I had a hard time not to grab her by the shoulders, and shake her, until I'm able to recognize her again. But even then – no anger, no sarcasm. But I had to endure my elder sister, the woman whose shadow I've tried to flee for so long, look at me with dead eyes, and calmly explain, that it's all for the best. That we would no longer need to run. That at least we can all be together, that we'd no longer need to struggle. That she'd be willing to pay the price necessary, so we can all live in peace. Dam you Sister. Dam it all. I know I seem petty, maker, I can hardly believe, I'd ever bring these words to paper, but more then any thing else, more then fame, more then glory, more then all the petty things I craved so long, I want my sister back.
-Taken from "Redemption of a Templar" by Ser Carver Hawke, first published 9:41 Dragon, declared heretic by the chantry 9:42 Dragon