Jowan, how could you?
Everything had been going so well. They had made their way into the repository, taken Jowan's phylactery and destroyed it. They were only steps from the front door when Irving, Greagoir and his templars had stopped them, spewing anger and threats of imprisonment in Aeonar. Then Jowan... Jowan... Neria stared at the men scattered on the floor. His magic had been so sudden and so strong that she hadn't had a chance to react. His blood magic. His Blood Magic.
Lily stood in shock, "By the Maker, blood magic. How could you? You said you'd never."
"I admit, I dabbled," Jowan tried to explain, "I thought it would make me a better mage."
Neria wanted to close her ears. She didn't want to hear this.
"I trusted you. I was ready to sacrifice everything for you." Lily was shaking and holding onto the banister to keep from sinking to the ground, "I don't know who you are blood mage. Stay away from me." She pointed to the door, "Get away from me blood mage!" Jowan looked at Neria pleadingly but she turned her head away, she couldn't bear to look at him any longer. He fled through the great doors that led to the docks and the only way out.
Neria moved to Irving who was splayed on the floor nearby. It took a few minutes before she was able to rouse him, then he and the templars all began to move at once.
"Are you alright?" Irving pulled himself to his knees, "Where's Greagoir?"
"I knew it, blood magic. But to overcome so many. I never thought him capable of such power," said Greagoir, climbing to his feet.
"He lied to me," Neria whispered. Jowan, how could you?
"None of us expected this. Are you alright Greagoir?" asked Irving as Neria helped him up.
"As well as can be expected given the circumstances," Greagoir shouted. "If you had let me act sooner none of this would have happened. Now we have a blood mage on the loose and no way to track him down!"
"Yes," Neria murmured, "Jowan destroyed his phylactery." Jowan, how could you?
"Where's the girl?" Greagoir demanded.
"I am here, ser," Lily stepped out of the corner looking pale and frightened.
Greagoir turned his wrath on the helpless initiate, "You helped a blood mage! Look at all he's hurt!"
Lily sank to her knees and suddenly Neria was angry, "You forced Jowan's hand!" Damn you, Jowan.
"Knight Commander, I was wrong." Lily bowed her head, "I will accept whatever punishment you see fit. Even... even Aeonar."
"Get her out of my sight!" Greagoir turned back to Neria, "And you! You know why the repository exists. Some artifacts - some magics - are locked away for a reason."
Irving eyed her, "Did you take anything from the repository?"
Neria looked over her shoulder at the long, ornate staff strapped obviously to her back. "No," she said dryly.
He scowled at the sarcasm, "Shall we add thievery to your list of misdemeanors then? I'll be taking that back now, if you don't mind."
"Your antics have made a mockery of this Circle!" yelled Greagoir. "What are we to do with you?"
A vision of eternal imprisonment at Aeonar crowded her thoughts. She straightened her shoulders, "Do what you like. I stand by my decision to help Jowan." Damn him.
"You helped a blood mage escape. All our prevention measures for naught, because of you." Greagoir placed his face inches from Neria's own but she refused to shrink back.
"Knight Commander, if I may."
Neria spun to find Warden Duncan approaching the group and her mouth went dry. Damn you, Jowan, you've ruined everything! She pressed her lips together and refused to cry.
"I'm not only looking for mages for the king's army, I am also recruiting for the Grey Wardens. Irving spoke highly of this mage and I would like her to join the Warden ranks," he looked at her directly and she found it hard to breathe.
"Duncan this mage has assisted a malificar and shown a lack of regard for the rules of the Circle," Irving warned.
"She is a danger to all of us," accused Greagoir.
"It is a rare person who risks all for a friend in need. I stand by my decision. I will recruit this mage."
"No! I refuse to let this go unpunished!" Greagoir shouted.
"If the Grey Wardens will have me, I will gladly go," she said, barely believing this was happening.
"Greagoir, mages are needed. This mage is needed. Worse things plague this world than blood mages, you know that." Duncan stepped up next to Neria, "I take this young mage under my wing and bear all responsibility for her actions."
Greagoir was practically spitting in anger, "A blood mage escapes and his accomplice is not only unpunished but is rewarded by becoming a Grey Warden. Are our rules nothing? Have we lost all authority over our mages? This does not bode well, Irving."
"Enough," said Irving, looking almost relieved, "We have no more say in this matter."
For the first time Neria was nervous, "What lies in store for me?"
"We must make our way to Ostagar where the king's army is camped. You will be initiated there. I will explain more when the time comes." Duncan turned to the rear of the room where his smarmy aid waited, "Daveth, pack our things if you please."
"But I just finished unpacking them!"
Duncan cleared his throat and the man disappeared up the stairs.
Neria was dizzy at the sudden change in her fortunes - she was leaving the Circle right now. She looked over at Irving, who was frowning at her sadly. "Thank you for everything, First Enchanter," she stepped closer to him, "Say goodbye to Vivian for me."
"I shall, child, but I cannot give her reason for pride."
"I understand. I... hope you will too someday."
"Come, let's get your things. Your new life awaits," Duncan took her elbow and steered her towards the door.
Jowan fled. Alone.
"Get away from me blood mage!"
Lily hadn't even said his name. He wasn't Jowan anymore. He was a thing, a blood mage. Even Neria, his best friend, his sister mage, had turned her head away. His boots echoed down the dark, narrow stairs to the tower's docks as another voice crept into his mind.
"Get away from me mage!" His mother had been frightened and disgusted. He was only six years old and she had ordered him out. He had stood at the edge of the woods watching her pile everything he owned in front of their house and burn it. He'd begged her to forgive him for whatever he had done but she just screamed at him to stay away. He hadn't fled until she started throwing the rocks. He had actually been grateful when the templars found him huddling in the forest nearby the next day.
Templars. There would be at least one at the dock, maybe two. He forced himself to stop and breathe. Greagoir and his men would only be down for a few minutes. He didn't have time to sneak past. He reached for his knife.
"Get away from me blood mage!"
He shook Lily's voice out of his head. "Focus Jowan," he muttered. Knife in hand, he moved downwards quickly but quietly. He froze when he heard a laugh. There had to be two of them there - or one weird one. He tiptoed forward and peeked around the corner to the docks.
The docks chamber was smaller than he remembered it, but he had been so, so small himself the last time he saw it. A few torches revealed three rowboats tied up against the narrow dock. A young man in homespun was hopping from boat to boat causing them to rock wildly as a templar laughed. So, only one of them then. He drew the blade across his thumb and muttered the enchantment. The templar felt the magic and began to turn towards him but it was already too late. With a shriek the templar fell to the ground writhing and the man hopping the boats stopped and stared.
"Take me out of here or you'll suffer like him." Jowan tried to sound fierce but his voice squeaked like a child's. Fortunately the templar's cries were convincing.
The man jumped to the well of a boat and picked up a pole. "Whatever you want, ser. I'm just a ferryman, no threat to you, ser."
"Good. Now hurry!" Jowan stepped into the boat and promptly fell as it rocked beneath him. The ferryman's eyes flew wide and he made a choking noise. "Just go!" Jowan ordered. The ferryman obeyed and the boat slid towards the tunnel leading to the outside and freedom. Jowan tensed with excitement. Then he heard the jingling sound of armor coming down the stair and his stomach clenched with The Fear. He turned around, his eyes zipping back and forth between the two boats left at the dock.
"Focus Jowan," he told himself, pulling on his mana. The power seemed to scatter around him, as it too often did, crackling over his skin. He tried to bring it all together but it was not obeying. He saw the first templar come through the opening and realized he was out of time. His power released, sending lightening flying towards the two boats - and throughout the rest of the room. The flash blinded him and the force of the thunder threw him back into the well of the boat.
When the spots before his vision cleared he saw the ferryman was huddled down over him, his eyes closed and hands over his ears.
"Where's the pole?" asked Jowan loudly, his own ears ringing.
The young ferryman's eyes opened inches from Jowan's own and he yanked himself backwards in terror. "Pole? I... the noise... I. Oars! We have oars!" He jumped up and grabbed them from their place along the sidewalls, dropped them into their brackets and began to draw like a demon were after him.
He probably thinks there is, mused Jowan, pulling himself back onto his seat. The chamber was completely dark, the torches having been blown out or knocked down by the blast, he didn't know which. There was only dim starlight filtering from outside to show them where the tunnel lay. Past the dull roar that still reverberated in his ears he could hear templars calling to each other in the darkness behind him as the little boat slipped out. The ferryman rowed even faster once they exited the tunnel and reached the open water of Lake Calenhad, obviously eager to reach the bank and be rid of his passenger.
The moon was barely rising above the horizon, leaving the shore dark and shrouded. Jowan continuously glanced about but saw no signs of pursuing boats - a good thing considering he didn't have the power light a candle. He had thrown big spells before, always under The Fear, and it left him drained. He had never truly lacked power or control, he reflected, he just never seemed to have them both at the same time. His mind rolled over the many exercises he had been taught to try to bring them together. None had ever worked.
The rocking of the boat must have made him doze off because the next thing he knew they were bumping against the dock on the shore. He glanced around quickly and saw the lights shining from the small inn nearby but no-one was walking around and the houses were dark. The ferryman had stepped out and was tying the small boat off and looking around as nervously as Jowan. He's probably trying to figure out if he can bolt, thought the fugitive mage. He stepped onto the dock and said, "Give me your clothes."
"My clothes? Please, ser, I don't have much. I can't" he begged.
"I'll give you my robes, just give me your clothes" Jowan ordered.
The ferryman moaned, but began pulling off his shirt. Suddenly his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the ground. Jowan leapt forward reflexively and bent over him.
"Don't wake him!" ordered a voice from the shadows. A burly man in homespun stepped out. "Leave that poor boy be, he's just trying to get by. There's no need to rob him."
Jowan stood and looked around for somewhere to run. but he was still on the dock and the man was blocking the way to land. "I have magic." he said, lifting his hands.
"So do I, obviously," replied the man, pointing to the stricken ferryman. "Poor kid. Just started working for the boats. Will probably go off to farming turnips now."
"Who are you?" Jowan demanded, "Are you a templar?"
"No, just a ferryman myself, but I go beyond the water. My name is Lester and I'm from a group called the Mage's Collective. We help runaway mages like yourself to escape."
"The Mage's Collective? You're real?" Jowan lowered his hands, "The templars told us Anders was lying."
"They would," replied Lester. "Listen, we need to get you out of here before the templars..."
A screeching sound from the tower interrupted him and Jowan turned to see a bright, white rocket shoot from the top.
"... can do that," muttered Lester. "Quickly, follow!" He took off at a run towards the forest and Jowan chased after him, lacking other options.
Years of studying in the tower had not prepared Jowan from running through the woods in the middle of the night. He felt like he tumbled more than ran, with his body picking up a collection of cuts and bruises along with the dirt, twigs and the occasional squishy thing that he didn't want to think about. When Lester finally stopped, Jowan collapsed on the forest floor wheezing. His legs trembled and twitched involuntarily beneath him.
Lester chuckled, "Been a while since I had an amateur. Anders always keeps himself in shape." He winked, "You wait here now," as if Jowan could move.
Jowan lay there on the cold, damp ground and ached. He could smell the earth and the trees, deeper and richer than the dirt in the Tower nursery. The trees were whispering quietly above him, mocking his load breathing, and a nightbird of some type was screeching nearby. He pushed himself to a sitting position and began to massage his tired, cramping legs. If this was freedom, it bloody well hurt.
"Get away from me blood mage!"
Jowan winced. Oh, Lily, what had he done to her? She had been so kind to him, so caring and generous. Greagoir had ordered here to Aeonar. Would that happen? Would she really go to prison? Could she ever forgive him for this?
"Get away from me blood mage!"
No. She never would.
Jowan pushed the thoughts from his head. He could feel his mana returning and used it to heal his legs, as well as the tell-tale wounds to his hand. When Lester returned the moon was high and Jowan was on his feet.
"Good move, scuttling the boats. I am guessing that's what you did since they didn't row after you, eh?"
Jowan nodded.
"That'll slow them down a bit. There's a couple templars that were left on the shore but they'll be lucky to notice if they trip over us. They won't find us in this forest." Lester stepped closer, looking at Jowan's robes under the now bright moonlight. "Bloody balls, boy, are you an apprentice?"
"Y... Yes, ser."
"How'd you manage to get past the templars?"
"I... We," Jowan could hold it no longer and began to sob. "My friends... I ran while they... They... You don't think we could?"
"No, son. If they didn't make it out then we can't help them."
Jowan sank to the ground. Poor Neria. She had wanted out as badly as he had. Would she go to Aeonar too? He wiped his eyes, "The templars came in and I just ran."
"Hmph. They probably ignored you thinking they could pick you up fast since your phylactery was still in the tower rather than Denerim. That's going to make things a sight more difficult to get you away."
"I destroyed my phylactery."
"You what?"
"We snuck into the basement and I destroyed it. It was difficult but we did it. My friend just passed her Harrowing and agreed to help me out. Now she's trapped and is going to suffer for it and it's all my fault."
"No more crying now. No phylactery is good, real good. Though your friend must be a hell of a mage to reach it."
"She is," Jowan slumped, "Much better than me."
"You're a bit of a whiner, aren't you? No matter, we'll save you anyway," he said, giving Jowan a playful slap on the shoulder. "Think you can walk? There's fresh water up ahead and we want to make some distance before sunrise."
"Yes, ser." said Jowan, standing. "I'm ready."
"I hope so," Lester winked. "This has been the easy part."