Author's Note: This chapter took a long time to right and is ridiculously long, my apologies. It's still a little rough, but I kind of wanted to just get it out there so I could get out of the prelude and into the meat of the story. I hope you enjoy it. As always, reviews are loved and so is constructive criticism. A big thank you to my reviewers so far, your comments made me smile.
Prelude: Chapter 4- Blood is Thicker
"Is she awake?"
"Of course not, stupid, her eyes would be open."
"She's pretty. Are all dalish ladies are pretty?"
"Do you think she can talk to animals? Gwimma said they could."
Ishafel twitched, shifted and grudgingly came out of the first real sleep she had in a week. Sitting up slowly, her lids fluttered open to find intruders in her room. Four pairs of eyes stared impassively at her from the edge of the bed, their chins only a little higher than the edge itself. A fifth pair of eyes were scant inches away from her face and belonged to what appeared to be a human youngling.
"Umm.. Hello, youngling." Ishafel said uncomfortably. Was this a common practice of humans to allow the little ones to wander into stranger's aravels?
"I'm not a youngling, I'm a girl." the little girl said indignantly not bothering to back up. The children behind her giggled "I'm Robeana." She jerked her thumb to her chest. Ishafel's eyes slid from the girl's freckled face to her thumb and back up again. "Who are you?"
Ishafel's brain was a realm of disarray, how did one speak to human younglings? She jerked her own thumb to her chest. "My name is Ishafel."
The girl closest to her on the edge of the bed moved even closer, "That's really pretty," she said shyly.
"That's Minda" Robeana introduced the girl, moving so that she was sitting in Ishafel's lap. "next to her is Wallace, the taller one is Mattie, that's Jessup and the baby is Nadi."
Baby? Ishafel craned her head over the side of the bed, sure enough on the floor sat a girl who could not have been more than three winters, her thumb stuck solemnly in her mouth. When Ishafel smiled at her, her eyes grew as big as saucers. After the introductions were finished the children began to happily pelt Ishafel with questions. She answered as fast as she was able, but they always seemed to be two or three questions ahead, impatiently waiting for her to catch up. Mattie lifted up Ishafel's longbow in awe. "You can shoot this?" he tried to bend the wood as he had seen templars do, but it would not curve for him. He rolled up his rather oversized sleeves to try again. Ishafel was of the opinion that humans must dress there children in oversized clothing and expect them to grow into them, all of the younglings were practically drowning in their robes. Fighting his sleeves and the bow all at once, Ishafel gave in and laughed at the grim concentration on his face. "Yes, I can. I'll show you how to string it if you like."
From down the hall came the shush sound of cloth slippers and an exasperated looking woman stuck her head into the room.
"There you are! Gave me a heart attack, you did! You know your not suppose to be running about the tower on you own. Knowing you all, you'll fall into a vat of something and I'll be hearing from Wynne about it for the rest of my natural life. "
"That's Gwimma," Robeana whispered conspiratorially, bouncing on Ishafel's lap. "She's always telling us what to do."
Gwimma suddenly noticed Ishafel among the pile of children and looked horrified.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, miss. I didn't see you there!" her eyes narrowed slightly, "What have you been told about bothering the sick?" She herded the group to the door like a sheepdog, stooping to toss Nandi over her shoulder. Robeana struggled in Gwimma's one handed grasp. "You'll come string the bow for us? Right? Please, we promise to be really good if you stop by." she grabbed on to the door frame. "The nursery is on the first floor!" With a firm tug Gwimma pulled the child out of the doorway, the girl's long red plaits following behind. A confused looking Templar entered a moment afterward. His eyes were fixed on the children even as he addressed her, "Ma'am, First Enchanter Irving said to tell you when you feel well enough, to go up to his office on the third floor. He and Duncan will be waiting for you. I can guide you when you're ready." Though she much rather would have hurried, she took her time getting dressed and lacing up her armor. Her muscles were a bit sore and she wondered absentmindedly if it wasn't a side effect of being healed. She never felt out of sorts when being healed at home, perhaps shem healing was different. More likely, the taint was causing problems. Her templar escort kept gazing at her sidelong.
"What is the matter?" she snapped at him, finally unable to take his little looks anymore.
"Are you really a grey warden recruit?" he asked stiffly. "I've never heard of an elf who was..."
He seemed to remember himself and clammed up. Ishafel narrowed her eyes at him.
"An elf that was what?"
"A warrior's life is demanding. I've never heard of an elf who was strong enough for that sort of thing."
"You know many dalish, ser?"
"Well, no, but we have the kitchen elves. They seem not to..."
"You know shem elves. That is the difference." the look on Ishafel's face had become so sour, that the Templar just shut up and did not ask what a shem was.
Dylan was having a satisfying morning. It was not often the mages were allowed to sleep in, but his heroics last night had apparently given him that right. Not even Jowan disturbed him, he woke well past midmorning. He had been directed to Irving's study as soon as he had woke and with much pomp and ceremony, the ending rituals of the harrowing, his new robes and the bestowing of the circle ring, were completed. In addition, Irving congratulated him heartily on the improvement of Ishafel and wanted to discuss Dylan undertaking an intensive study of healing magic from one of the senior mages, since he most obviously had the talent for it.
The idea rankled him. Despite people constantly telling him he had a knack for it, he was not interested in learning to heal beyond what was required to patch field wounds. He wanted to study battlemagic; true battlemagic, not simply primal forms. Politics were against anything that might make mages better able to stand against the templars. Rather, safe arts like healing spells, botany, or potions were pushed on mages. Plus the Templars didn't approve of anyone making a study of battlemagic in tower walls, so beyond a few basic defense spells nobody in the circle really knew anything about it. Outside the circle was another matter entirely, but he doubted the templars would allow him to track down apostates as teachers. Bloody Templars. He was still thinking of how to bring up the matter to Irving, when he heard the "Bitzz" from the door.
"Dylan, over here!" Jowan's voice was barely above a whisper and it looked as though he was doing his best not to be seen. That, of course, was completely nonsensical because the hallway was circular and he was standing in the middle of it. Anybody who had eyes could easily seen him.
"Jowan? What's wrong?"
" I-" he paused as two templars walked by on patrol, "I can't discuss it here, meet me down in the chantry in a few minutes. With that the troubled man took off. Dylan did as he asked. He had always liked the chantry part of the building, not for the religious platitudes of the staff, but the actual wing itself. It was often cooler than the rest of the building, which was a real boon in summer, and the low light gave it a feeling of peace similar to the feeling he got when he was on the roof with his stars. The initiates were busy about there usual chores. At first the only person he saw was Kelli, the circle's resident nutcase, and Dylan did not use that term lightly. If there was anyone who ought to be made tranquil it was Kelli. Luckily, she didn't notice him as he spotted Jowan and headed to his corner.
He knew he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear when he noticed the striking young initiate standing next to Jowan; the fact that she was holding his hand wasn't a good sign either.
"Dyl, I like you to meet Lily. She's the reason I've been sneaking around so much lately." the look on his face was sheepish. Dylan was so poleaxed over Jowan having a girlfriend, a girlfriend who was training to be a celibate sister of the chantry no less, that all he could do was look at them both dumbly and say "Nice to meet you, Lily."
The couple seemed to takes this as some sort of sign of approval because the tension in the air around them got visibly lighter and Lily rushed out to shake Dylan's hand.
"It's so nice to finally meet you. Jowan has told me so much about you." she said laughing. She had a nice laugh, like chiming bells. He could easily see why Jowan was smitten with her.
"You were right though, Jowan, this is a problem. The chantry doesn't approve of mage relationships, much less with one of their initiates." That tension was back.
"That's not the problem," Jowan said shaking his head. "I've been here how long, Dylan? I keep asking about my harrowing and Irving keeps making excuses. I'm beginning to think they aren't going to give it to me."
Dylan almost laughed "Jow, they can't just not give you the harrowing, the only other option would be to make you..."
"Tranquil." Lily finished for him, that pretty face of her's exceedingly grim. "And that is what they plan to do."
"What?" Dylan was beginning to dislike the fact that this woman threw him so off balance.
"I saw the paperwork, signed by Irving himself" she confirmed.
"There has to be some explanation for this." He wondered aloud. "Let me go to Irving on your behalf-"
"No! You won't change his mind, Dylan. I'll lose everything that makes me a human being. My friendship with you, my love for Lily, they'll get rid of it all and leave me a hollow shell. I can't sit by and just let them kill me without striking me dead." Jowan looked at him in desperation. "You must help us. Please."
A headache was forming in Dylan's temples, he brought up his hands to try to massage the unpleasantness away. This was the way things always were with Jowan. Perhaps that was why the man had so few friends in the tower. When it came down to actually doing something dangerous or risky, he would always beg Dylan and Surana to go first, like a canary down a mineshaft.
"What exactly do you think I can do about this?"
"Well, I did some digging, and I found out that Jowan's phylactery is stored here, and not in Denerim. If we were to destroy it..."
"Then the Templars couldn't use the blood to find you when you ran. You do realize they have other methods of tracking you, right?"
"Once we are far enough, those methods will be useless."
Dylan shook his head in disbelief.
"What will you do, Jowan? You've been a mage all your life. Magic is the only thing you know. How will you survive without it?"
"There are apostate mages out there, and people willing to barter with them. It won't be as hard as the templars would want you to think."
"Well, it sounds like the two of you have it all figured out. What do you need me for?"
"To get to the phylactery chamber, we need a rod of fire. Only full fledged mages can request that sort of thing..."
"Give me one good reason why I should do this, Jowan. One reason that I should put myself into a templar's noose for you."
"Because all your life you have wanted the same thing. It isn't right to strip a person of feeling just because they want what everyone else has. Mages are robbed of choice, not once are we ever allowed to make a decision for ourselves. I bet you Irving wants you to go into healing magic, because of your little miracle. Not what you wanted, I know, but he will calmly explain to you that its for the good of the circle that your talents are put to the best possible use and that will be that. There'll be no fighting him then. For once in your life do something because you want do it and not "for the circle".
"I'll think on it." Dylan turned on his heel and walked away.
"I don't know if he'll accept, Duncan. Dylan can be very stubborn and he is so devoted to the circle. He may not want to leave his home, and I could hardly force him-"
"What you are really saying is that you don't want to give him up." Ishafel said irritably.
Their departure from the tower had been delayed. Duncan wanted to recruit the fire haired mage that had saved her life, and apparently the first enchanter though if he talked at Duncan enough he would give up the idea. Clearly, the man had not know Duncan long enough.
"We will have to ask him to know for sure" Duncan sounded amused at her outburst.
A hard knock on Irving's door ended the conversation.
"Come in" the door swung open to reveal Dylan, who only seemed to see Irving. He marched up to the desk, anger evident in his stride and the way he slammed both fists down on the top of the desk when he reached. "We need to talk."
"Dylan" Irving met his anger with cool impasse. "We were just discussing you."
He was startled from his anger when he saw Duncan and Ishafel, standing behind to him.
"Good morning," he said it curtly, and then because he suddenly felt a pang of guilt for venting anger on two people with nothing to do with the situation, he said in a softer tone. "It is good to see you both. How are you feeling, Ishafel?"
"Well enough to travel. Duncan and I were just discussing our departure plans with Irving."
Her eyes moved slowly from Irving to Dylan and back, questioning.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Duncan, but I need to speak to the First Enchanter privately." A flash of his previous anger showed through the mask of his reserve.
"Amell" although it was commonplace for all but the senior mages to be called by their last name, it was something that Irving only did when he was truly enraged with a student. "I hardly think that whatever is bothering you is severe enough to interrupt Grey Warden business."
"It is all right, First Enchanter, we have further preparations to make before we leave. Dylan, I hope you will come find me when your business is completed. I have something I'd like to discuss with you."
Duncan left the room with a quick nod to them both. Ishafel followed, but she did not hide her curiosity, looking back at him over her shoulder with one eyebrow quirked. She shut the door behind her.
"Now perhaps you like to tell me what has you so riled up that you have forgotten your sense of decorum?
"Is it true you are going to have Jowan made tranquil?"
"So that snooping initiate that he so fond of went off and told him did she."
Dylan must have looked surprised that Irving knew about Lily, because the first enchanter gave him a caustic look.
"Don't be so stunned, my boy. I know almost everything that goes on in this tower. I would have known even if Jowan had not been so blatantly obvious about it. As to making him Tranquil, I'm sorry Dylan, I do not want to do it myself. But Greagior has brought proof that Jowan has been practicing blood magic. It would be too dangerous to allow him to take his harrowing."
The surprises were ever continuing today. "Jowan practicing blood magic? Jowan? The same Jowan who had to work for three months to get a simple cold spell right? That Jowan? You have to be kidding!" Dylan scoffed.
Irving frowned. "The evidence is irrefutable, Dylan. No doubt Jowan has already asked you to help him escape along with that chantry mouse of his. My only real regret is that the chantry will try to blame Jowan's weakness on the circle, we must make sure that the Chantry girl is held responsible as well."
"Surely, you are joking. Jowan is my closest friend, ser. I will not betray that trust."
"This is not about friendship Dylan, It's about the good of the circle. Producing blood mages is bad for our image, it will cause the chantry to come down harder on us. We must show them we are capable of taking care of ourselves by not shirking unpleasantness when it comes to dealing with our own."
"You and I seem to have a fundamental difference of opinion there, ser. I don't know what you are planning to catch Jowan. I don't want to know. But I won't be a part of it, if they ask me for help again I will refuse outright. All I can tell you is that they plan to leave on the new moon two weeks from now."
He looked away from the first enchanter, shaking slightly.
"I appreciate you doing your duty, Dylan. Really I do."
Dylan gave a short bow before taking his leave. He was headed the storeroom, he needed a rod of fire as soon as possible.
"Now!" the little clay disk sailed down the large stone training hall. Ishafel's reaction was that of a well oiled machine. Her arm swung up, she pulled the drawstring back, and let loose her arrow. The disk shattered in colorful pieces. The children clapped, overjoyed. The nursery had not been large enough for a proper demonstration, so with a full escort of two templars to oversee they had gone to the templar's practice range. It had been a hard won battle. Fussing and puppy dog eyes had gotten them nowhere at first. Both Gwimma and Ishafel had tried the puppy dog eyes as well and afterward Ishafel was sure that they had made the templars that much more resolved to say no. They were about to give up on the plan entirely when a young templar with cinnamon colored hair came down the hall.
"Oh perfect!" Gwimma whispered, and then called down the hall, "Cullen!"
The templar came to the door with a warm smile that seemed out of place for someone in his uniform. Ishafel hadn't realized that she thought the templars unfeeling until that moment.
"Have you met Ishafel? She is our visiting Dalish elf, on her way to Ostagar."
Cullen made a short bow, "It is an honor to meet you, dear lady"
Ishafel gave him a small smile and nodded, not sure what Gwimma was driving at.
"Ishafel is teaching the children about Dalish culture. It is very educational. We were wondering if you might let her show the children..."
"We said no, Gwimma. You need to learn to take no for an answer." The templar that had been guiding Ishafel about all day interrupted Gwimma sharply.
"But it's not going to hurt anyone-"
"Learn you place mage, you have no jurisdiction when it comes to these matters."
"And neither do you, Ser Harold." Cullen's face had gone stormy, "let her finish."
"We were wondering if Ishafel might show the children how she shoots her bow. I know the templars have a training room for such things. She wouldn't show them how to use it, just give a demonstration. We can take Ser Harold and Ser Jordain with us."
At this the children came out of the room and turned the fury of their puppy dog stare on Cullen, who smiled at them.
"Well, I don't see what's so wrong about that, Harold. I've just gone off duty, Jordain can stay on watch and you and I will take them down to the range." The children let up a cheer.
"You are very kind, ser." she said to him, as he helped Gwimma with the children, there were another six that hadn't gone to Ishafel's bedside, two of them babies like Nadi. Cullen blushed a little bit.
"I know, I know. It'll probably come back to haunt me later."
She was on her six or seventh demonstration when Dylan crashed down the hallway like a thundercloud. She placed down her bow immediately and went into the hall.
"Dylan?"
He whirled around at the sound of his name. He was clutching a small stick so tightly his knuckles had turned white from the exertion.
"Good Maker, Dylan! What is the matter!" Cullen had followed Ishafel into the hall and was clearly not used to seeing such a grim expression on his friend's face."
"Irving and I have just had a terse conversation about the future, I need to work it off." his voice was tense and carried undercurrents of something much more urgent, but Cullen seemed to believe him.
"Don't worry about it, Dyl. Irving will probably let you have your way in the end. One of his little tests to keep you sharp."
He nodded wordlessly, and Cullen drifted back into the training room and into to conversation with Gwimma. Ishafel stayed in the hall, uncertain.
"Really," he said in a voice that should have been convincing, "I am fine."
"I don't believe you, but I respect the fact that you want privacy" She turned to go back into the training room.
"Wait."
She looked back at him.
"What would the Dalish do if... if somebody close to them was in wanted something that the rest of the clan did not want, something he was forbidden from doing?"
"The Dalish do not keep their own against their will, if he or she can not be swayed, the clan will let them go their own way and we would go ours.
"What if leaving the clan wasn't an option?"
"Dylan, what is this about?" her eyes searched his face, but he would not give up his secrets
"People do not always know what is good for them" she thought for a moment of Tamlen and the mirror. "It is our duty as clan members to show them the right path. But not to confine them. The clan is made of its members. If a member truly believes something then it is our duty as a clan to consider there reasoning and to respect their decision."
The gears in his head were turning, "Thank you, Ishafel." He turned to go.
"Dylan."
He looked back at her.
"I hope it helps."
He had suspected that Lily and Jowan would still be at the chantry. Dylan placed the rod in his pocket.
"Dylan!" Lily exclaimed, surprised but happy.
"I thought you wouldn't come back." Jowan said softly, the relief in his face was self evident.
Dylan let his eyes rest heavily on Jowan's face and then on Lily's. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?"
The resolve in their eyes never wavered. Dylan sighed "Irving is on to you. We are going to have to do this right now if we are going to do it at all."
"But, but" Jowan spluttered.
"If you are going to have any chance at all, it has to be now."
"Alright," Lily answered for the two of them. She led the way into the main hall, It was empty, and after checking to makes sure the coast was clear, Dylan tapped the rod of fire on the lock. It burst with it was a thankfully small explosion and the three of them slipped into the basement.
It occurred to Dylan that he had never been in this part of the tower before. There were of course restricted sections, but a large majority of them were roped off by Irving to test the young apprentices' problem solving skills, so they weren't really restricted. The air was unnaturally cold as they approached the first door.
"This is the victim's door. It is made from 277 planks, one for each of the original templars.
"Cute" Dylan remarked, staring critically at the wood and iron monstrosity.
"It's sealed by magic and can only be opened by a mage and a templar together. The mage provides the magic and the chantry provides the password. Shall we?" Lily turned to face the door, sizing it up.
"Sword of the maker, Tears of the Fade"
Dylan looked dumbstruck at her "How did you get the password?"
"Oh, I was chatting with a templar I know, and he told me. It doesn't work without magic, you see, so what the harm in telling?"
He suddenly understood why she wanted to leave. A woman like this was wasted in the chantry. A small peal of alarm went through his brain. This was becoming too easy. Irving knew they were up to something, and Lily just happened to convince a templar to tell her the password?
"Cast a spell, any spell, at the door."
The electricity slammed into the door with a jolt, and it swung open.
They hurried forward to the next door.
"Quick, use the rod on the lock!"
With a flourish, Dylan pointed the rod at the door.
Nothing happened, not even a bit a smoke.
"Something's wrong" Jowan moved his hands forward as though use his magic but his end result was nothing. "I can't cast any spells here."
"Wait," Dylan looked very closely at the markings on the door. "Look at the runes..."
"Of course, that's why they used a regular lock at this door. The templars must have made it so you cannot use magic here!" Lily pounded her fist against the door in frustration. "Now what are we supposed to do."
"There must be another way. Let's try that door." Dylan re-flourished the rod at the door on the right. With a somewhat louder explosion than last time, the door swung back on it's hinges. The sound echoed down the hall.
"Great! Let's explore the repository. There must be something..." Lily was cut short as a white yellow figured surged in front of them.
"What in the Maker!" Jowan stumbled back as the creature attacked. Dylan cursed under his breath, he should have know that the repository would be protected in some way. The made as quick work as they could of the creature and more appeared. They pushed forward despite the number of guardians. He was surprise at Lily's skill with a blade. By contrast, he was extremely grateful that Jowan had been forced to learn how to use a staff, mind you he really couldn't fight with it to save his life which was why Lily was practically guarding his person, but it did amplify his magic. He watched the two of them as Lily picked cobwebs off of Jowan. They looked happy. He was doing the right thing, he told himself. A nagging voice in the back of his head begged to differ, but he shut it out. This would work. He would get them out. He had to.
The repository was an odd cross between prison and monastery, and a through investigation led to a room piled high with artifacts. In short, it was the motherload of all forbidden things.
"Look at this place!" Jowan's voice was filled with uncharacteristic glee. It wasn't like Dylan couldn't understand as he browsed the titles on the bookshelf. Battlemagic books; he knew Irving had hid them somewhere. Only high level magi who had proved their worth to the chantry were allowed to study it, and even they almost never used it, but he knew there had to be texts somewhere in the tower. He carefully removed Battlemagic: Theory and Application from the shelf and tucked the dusty volume into his robes. If he was going to be bad, he might as well be bad all the way.
"Dylan, look at this." Jowan pointed to a wall blocked by a bookcase. The little bit of it that was showing was crumbling, and beyond it he could see the phylactery chamber.
"Help me move this"
After the bookcase was moved both mages blasted spells at the wall to make it crumble, but nothing worked. In frustration, Jowan grabbed the rod of fire and threw it at a statue of a mabari in front of the wall. A huge stream of fire shot forth and they were barely able to get clear in time. The wall was decimated.
"Well", Jowan sputtered, "That worked"
They climbed through into the chamber.
"There it is! Jowan's phylactery!"
"It's hard to think, so much trouble, for this little thing." Jowan looked at it almost reverently before smashing it on the stone as hard as he was able.
"It's a pity that they sent yours to Denerim already, Dyl." Jowan sounded apologetic, but Dylan just shook his head. Lily reached out from behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"You could come with us, you know. You are smart enough to evade the templars, even if they do have your phylactery."
He just shook his head again; he didn't know what to say. It was all happening so fast.
"Let's just hurry, we have to get the two of you out of the tower as soon as possible."
Running out of the previously locked door, they hurried up the stairs and out the basement door and...
Right into the waiting embrace of Greagoir and the templars.
Nobody spoke for a moment. Not one word. Then every one tried to speak at once.
Finally Greagoir won out.
"So what you said is true, Irving."
"I assure you, this isn't what it looks like." Dylan lied, he knew it was pretty much what it looked like. What he wasn't was going down without a fight.
"An initiate, conspiring with a blood mage. I am disappointed, Lily."
She held her head up defiantly, not quaking under Greagoir's admonishment.
"And this one, newly a mage and already flouting the rules of the circle."
Irving gave Dylan a hard look, almost the match for the one that Greagoir had given Lily.
"You told me you were going to stay out of this, Amell. You knew I was going to take care of this, and you willfully defied me."
"I'd rather use my own judgment than be an obedient sheep. Jowan has done nothing wrong, and you are willing to make him tranquil on a rumor?" Dylan remarked scathingly. So much for lying his way out.
"You don't care for the mages." Jowan added. "You just bow to the Chantry's every whim."
Irving looked like him was about to retort but Dylan cut him off.
"He's right, you don't care for the mages."
The templars closed ranks around them.
"No!" Jowan shouted, "I won't let you take her!"
Dylan couldn't comprehend what he was seeing as Jowan slammed the pin holding the top of his robes together into his palm. He saw the blood rush out and overwhelm not just the templars, but everybody, himself included, but he didn't believe it. He only believed it when his head slammed into the stones on the floor and he was in far too much pain to be having a dream.
"Lily, come..."
The only one left standing, she stared at Jowan in absolute horror.
"Blood magic... How could..."
"I only dabbled! I thought if I learned a little I could protect us!"
He held his blood free hand out to her but she backed away.
"Get away from me! I don't know you anymore!"
"Lily!"
There was a pounding of boots on the floor, the templars were coming. Jowan took one last glance at Lily and Dylan, his eyes pleading and then he was gone. Groaning, the templars and Irving came to.
"Are you alright?" Where's Greagoir?" Irving said to the two of them and a pang of guilt spread through Dylan. Jowan was wrong, Irving did care, he knew that. But he failed to see that things needed to change. The knight commander sat up, clutching his head. "I knew it! Blood magic! But to overcome so many. I never believed Jowan capable of that much power."
"I can't believe he just did that." Dylan felt betrayed yet again. Surana, and now Jowan; he had lost the two people who had been the most important to him. He felt alone, even surrounded by people as he was.
The look on Irving's face was undeservedly understanding. "None of of expected this."
Greagior got to his feet. "Are you alright, Greagoir?"
"As good as can be expected given the circumstances." he snapped "If you had let me act sooner, this would not have happened."
"He can't have gone far" Dylan pointed out, "You can still capture him."
He got a glare for his trouble.
"Believe me, we will use every resource. Where is the girl?"
Lily stepped out of the shadows. "I...I am here, ser."
The knight commander motioned to the fallen templars around him. "You have helped a blood mage! Look at all he's hurt!"
"That's unfair, Lily didn't know he was a blood mage!" Dylan tried to intercede.
"Don't you think you caused enough trouble for one day, Amell? Hold your tongue."
Lily gave him a bitter smile. "You've been a true friend, but you needn't defend me any longer." she turned back to the knight commander. "I was wrong. I...I was an accomplice to a blood mage."
He waved a hand. "Get her out of my sight. And you. You know why the repository exists. Some things are locked away for a reason!"
Dylan felt his 'borrowed' book burn a hole in his robes.
"Did you take anything?" Irving asked.
Dylan was surprised the lie came out as smooth as it did. "No, sir"
"Your antics have made a mockery of this Circle! What are we to do with you?"
Dylan did not waver. "Do as you like. I stand by my decision to help Jowan. He did nothing until provoked."
Greagoir look like he was about to explode from rage.
"You have assisted a blood mage."they could probably hear him half way to Redcliffe the way the was shouting. "All our preventive measures have come to naught because of you! I-"
"If I may..." Duncan's calm voice distracted everyone for a moment. "I am recruiting gray wardens. Irving has spoken highly of this mage and I myself have seen his skills in action. He has a lot of potential. I would like him to join the warden's ranks."
Dylan didn't know which of the three of them was more surprised. Irving was the first to recover, probably because he wasn't surprised in the least Dylan noted. So that's what they had been discussing.
"Duncan, this mage has assisted a maleficar, and shown a lack of disregard for the circle's rules."
The knight-commander made a sweep of Dylan's figure. "He is a danger. To all of us."
Duncan gave a Dylan a long hard look. Something, Dylan couldn't put his finger on it, passed between them. Duncan was still holding his stare when he started to speak. "It is a rare person indeed that risks everything for a friend. I will recruit this mage."
Greagoir was turing purple again. "No! I refused to let him go unpunished."
It was at this tense moment that Ishafel and Cullen entered the room. Ishafel had two children on her hip and a third clinging to her leathers. The seriousness on the faces of those in the room shattered the jovial mood.
"What has happened?"
"Cullen, Take this, this mage into custody." Greagoir was still quite purple. Gwimma quickly hurried the children from Ishafel and Cullen, taking the long way round to their quarters. Everyone in the tower knew how Greagoir could get when he was in a bad way. Not even the littlest mages were safe.
"You mean Amell, ser? What-"
"Did you not hear me? I said-"
"If you touch him in anyway, I will have to strike you down. The Right of conscription supersedes the chantry. I will be well within my rights in this matter."
Irving sighed deeply. "You may as well give up, Greagoir. The boy has talent. Let him go somewhere where he can do good."
Greagoir looked truly venomous. The knight commander took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the beet-like color leaving his face. "His future actions are on you, Warden. Take him and go."
Duncan nodded to Greagoir's back as the Knight-commander walked off in a snit. Irving watched him go with a odd sort of satisfaction "You have been given a second chance. Do not waste it."
Duncan nodded to Ishafel, "Come, we leave now."
"Irving" Dylan called out to him as Ishafel was saying her goodbyes to the children by proxy to Cullen.
The First enchanter stop and turned.
"Thank you. For everything."
The First Enchanter gave Dylan an assessing glance, and smiled slightly before walking away.
With those last words, Dylan left the place that had been his home for his whole life.
He wasn't sorry in the slightest.
The next four days were a learning experience. That was what Dylan told himself anyway. Duncan and Ishafel kept a brisk pace, and it was clear that both were used to traveling over rough terrain. The first night he fell into his bedroll and could not be woken to keep watch at his appointed time. Duncan had slowed the pace only a little after that. Dylan had always kept in shape but he was not used to walking for long stretches and tired quickly. Despite what he said Duncan seemed wary of him, his conversations seemed guarded, but he was pleasant enough. Ishafel said almost nothing to him the first day or the second. It was the night of the third day, when he was on watch, that she finally spoke her piece to him. The plains sloping into the Kocari Wilds allowed a beautiful view of the sky and while it wasn't as all encompassing as the tower. The Sky was a pleasant enough diverison. She snuck up on him. One moment he was enjoying himself, the next he had a danger pressed to his back.
"The point of being on watch is to be vigilant." She stated dryly.
He didn't know what to say. He couldn't very well say he was sorry. He knew as well as she did sorry did not fix a dagger to the back.
"I do not understand you." She sheathed her dagger.
"What."
"You were so quick to leave your clan, the people who raised you,so eager to turn away from those who relied on you. Those children in the tower looked up to you, you know. You were their example."
It was true, when she had returned to the practice range the children had regaled her with stories about Dylan, and another named Surana.
"Can I trust a man so quick to abandon them at my back. Dylan sincerely hoped she could see the abject scorn on his face in the moonlight.
"You yourself told me that sometimes the clan does not know what is best for the individual. The rules of the tower are imposed on us whether we like it or not. Considering I was kicked out for defending a friend who did not deserve it, and defending him even when I knew he didn't, my willingness to defend someone who does deserve such devotion should not be in question."
She was quiet for a moment, considering his words. "Why were you looking at the sky?" she asked, changing the subject. You spend your time staring at the sky each night. Even when you should be on watch.
"Do the Dalish not have constellations?"
"What?"
"Pictures in the stars that tell stories."
"No" she looked at him curiously as he launched into explanation. She still did not know what to make of Dylan the Mage. The man who could save lives with one hand and turn his back on everything he'd ever known with a smile on his face with the other. She still did not know what to make of him when the stone gates of their destination, a human fortress called Ostagar, appeared in the valley below.
Would he make a good warden?
Only time would tell.
Prelude End