The tower was imposing in a very phallic way. The Tevinter Imperium was supposed to be full of similar towers - built by the mage lords. He wondered if there was a competition to see which lord had the biggest one.
Of course here, at Lake Calenhad, the circle tower had no competition. It loomed. And Alistair had never really seen a tower of any kind before. Perhaps if he had it wouldn't seem so intimidating.
"We'll take the boat across," Herrith said. They had travelled around the shores of Lake Calenhad to get here, stopping in villages along the way to deliver supplies and pick up some of their own. Only Alistair and Herrith would be traveling to the Tower itself, however. The four Brothers who had come with them would stay at the Spoiled Princess.
A Harrowing was not a place for anyone but mages and Templars.
He was nearly eighteen. This was part of his training and had been delayed quite a while. All the other initiates had attended a Harrowing already. They wouldn't tell him what was involved. Some of them seemed disturbed by it, although a couple said it was simply boring.
The fact that it was called a Harrowing was not very reassuring.
Inside, they were met by an imposing Templar by the name of Greagoir. Alistair bowed with his arms crossed over his chest - this was the Knight Commander of the tower, one of the most powerful Templars in Ferelden and worthy of respect. He fixed his blue eyes on Alistair's and raised an eyebrow.
"This is your initiate, Herrith?" he said. "We can rely on him to keep his mouth shut and do his duty, I hope?"
Herrith raised an eyebrow. "Do his duty, maybe," he said. "Keeping his mouth shut has always been a problem."
The Knight Commander frowned. "Well then, boy," he said, still staring at Alistair. "Let me impress on you the importance of discretion in this case. The harrowing is a secret ritual - one that every circle apprentice must go through before they can progress to being a full mage. No apprentice knows what awaits them before they enter the Harrowing chamber, and no apprentice must ever know. Do you understand?"
If he wasn't stationed to the Tower the only mages he would ever meet would be apostates he would be dragging back to be imprisoned, or malificarum he would be doing his best to kill, so he didn't really know why they were bothering with all the warnings, but he nodded solemnly any way, hoping Herrith wouldn't let slip any more of his faults to the imposing man.
"Has Herrith informed you what you will need to do?" Greagoir said.
"He told me we might need to kill the mage," Alistair replied, swallowing.
Greagoir sighed and motioned for the two of them to follow him. "Indeed, you might," he said as they walked through the halls. "But you must remember that if you end up having to attack, it won't be the woman you are attacking. It will be an abomination - a demon inside a woman's body. You must not hesitate. You must not let your feelings get in the way of your duty. It's possible she will look exactly the same as she did before the harrowing began - it's also possible - if the demon is not so subtle - that she will change into something less.... human."
"Less human?"
"She'll look like the demon who possessed her," Herrith said, more grim than usual. "It makes it easier, sometimes."
"How will we know, if she doesn't... change?" Alistair asked.
Greagoir looked at him with a small smile on his face. "Good question, boy. Most demons aren't subtle enough not to give themselves away as soon as they reach the physical realm - she will sound different, stand differently. We rely on our own judgement in these matters."
"What if you're wrong?" Alistair suddenly felt ill. "What if you kill her and she wasn't possessed?"
"Don't worry - First Enchanter Irving will be there also, and he knows his students well enough to tell when they are possessed. There are subtle changes in a mage's power, especially a young mage who is yet to discover their full potential. It's why we have the harrowing so early."
"Early? How old is she?"
"Eighteen," Greagoir said.
Alistair suddenly thought there were much worse things than becoming a Templar.
"How many mages die during the Harrowing?" he asked.
"Some," Greagoir said. "More than we would like. Fewer than you might think."
Oh, thanks, Alistair thought, really informative.
They climbed the Tower. Alistair found himself warming to Greagoir, he seemed to have genuine affection for the mages under his charge, unlike the barely veiled hostility he felt from Herrith, or the fear from the other initiates. These were people, no different from Alistair. At least, that's what he told himself. They were so quiet. In the Chantry the Brothers and Sisters would love it if the orphans and initiates would walk around the way these people did - noses in books, softly whispering to each other...
There was something else, though, that worked its way under his initiate splintmail as they walked. An undercurrent of fear. A feeling of... wrongness. He was reminded of classes with Brother Bertrand, constantly on watch for the swish of his cane. Every now and then a young apprentice would look up at him with wide eyes. They weren't orphans. They hadn't been abandoned by their families.
They'd been taken.
The Harrowing chamber was filled with the faint blue light that came from lyrium. Alistair eyed the magical substance with faint disgust. Seven or eight Templars were stationed around the room already, silent and grim in their Templar armour. Herrith took Alistair's arm and turned him. "Ailstair, this is probably the most important part of your training. If something goes wrong, don't hesitate to use your abilities - you're progressing well and have enough control now. We're all Templars here."
"Why so many, ser?" he asked.
"We can never tell how strong the abomination might be," Herrith said. "It's better to be safe."
The door opened and two people entered, the first, an older man, still tall and hale, but weary. He was dressed in mage robes and Alistair guessed he must be the first enchanter.
The second was so tiny Alistair thought at first it was a child. But it wasn't. An elf, he thought to himself. She barely reached the first enchanter's chest - so lithe and delicate. He'd seen elves in Redcliffe when he was a boy, of course, but not many and he'd been so young and small himself then that he never appreciated how much smaller they were than humans.
She had white hair and dark eyes and her face was tattooed with what must have been a traditional Dalish clan marking. Almost certainly she had not come to the Tower willingly. Alistiar knew that the Dalish had mages of their own, that Templars spent a good deal of time hunting them but rarely found them - the Dalish were just too good at hiding from humans. Obviously this girl had been captured early and forced into the tower.
His heart twisted.
She was calm as she took her place in the centre of the chamber. Irving laid his hand on her shoulder and spoke to her, low and soft and she nodded once, firmly. Confident, Alistair thought. He hoped that was a good sign.
The Harrowing began.
Alistair wished he'd asked Herrith how long they usually took. Standing still and waiting was not one of his talents. I really hope I don't get stationed to the tower, he thought to himself. Standing still and waiting seemed to be the only thing that Tower Templars did. He didn't think he'd seen a Templar aside from Greagoir and Herrith move, let alone talk, since he got there. Entirely too grim for me, Alistair thought. I don't want to be a jailor.
An hour passed. Irving started to look anxious and Alistair began to think something was not right. Greagoir and Irving had a quick, whispered conversation and Greagoir motioned to the Templars to be ready.
"Don't like the look of this, boy," Herrith said to him, drawing his sword. "I suggest you arm yourself."
But she's so little... Alistiar thought, suddenly anguished. Herrith raised his eyebrow at him and Alistair drew his sword and shield, settling them into place. His heart was thumping in his chest and he didn't think he'd be able to focus his willpower on the girl in front of him, even if she started throwing fireballs around. She's so little.
The girl stirred. Irving motioned everyone to stand back as she slowly got to her feet. There was a moment when Alistair thought it was all right - that she had succeeded and everything would be fine. Then she opened her mouth and laughed.
The Templars seemed to move as one. He felt the force of a holy smite shoot past him and recognised Herrith's aura. The girl, who was morphing and changing as they watched into something else - something huge and dark and malevolent, shrugged it off and threw out her.... its arms. Three of the Templars surrounding her were encased in bands of light - paralysis. Alistair found himself acting quickly - casting cleanse. He was surprised it was strong enough to work - but the Templars who had been frozen moved forwards, freed by his action, and engaged the demon.
Alistair ran forward to help.
It was over quickly. Alistair hadn't even managed to connect his blade to the demon before another of the Templars made the killing blow. He was clinical, unemotional and thorough. Obviously he had done this before. The demon was dead - the body didn't resemble the elf girl it had been at all. She was erased, more completely gone than if she'd died naturally.
Alistair couldn't help but feel sad for her - for who she might have been. If the Tower hadn't found her, would she have lived happily with her tribe? Would she have become a full Dalish mage?
He was conflicted. He could see the value of the Harrowing - if that... thing she had become was a possibility for all mages there needed to be some way of preventing it. But surely there was a better way? She had been so young...
In the short boat trip back to the Spoiled Princess, Herrith patted Alistair on the shoulder. "You did well, son," he said. "That cleanse was well cast and you thought quickly. I'm proud of you."
Alistair nodded, but didn't smile. He didn't feel proud of himself. He looked down at his hands, encased in splintmail gloves, but to his imagination, covered in blood.
Maker, he thought. Don't let me be assigned to the Tower. I don't want to have to do that again.