8- The World of a Mage

Finally the evening prior to leaving came and she carefully packed her leather backpack. She took a change of under-armor clothing — shirt and pants to prevent chaffing. She only took one set of the casual clothes she just bought in the market, some smallclothes and socks, her books and blank parchment, ink in a well-stoppered vial and a few quills. Seneschal Matis showed her how to trim a feather if she ran out of quills. Part of her was excited to travel and see the seat of magic learning in Ferelden. Part of her was very apprehensive. What rumors had they already heard about her?

She took out the photo of her parents and herself at the Grand Canyon. "Well, Mom and Dad, it looks like I'm on an adventure that I would have never thought possible. I've landed with a very protective and kind group of people. So, don't worry about me. I know, I don't believe in spirits … but, in case I'm wrong … I love you both." She spent a few more moments looking at the photo and then put it away in her locked drawer.

It was going to take as long to get to the Circle as it did to get to Denerim from Highever. They were were going to take a smaller road through the Bannorn that came out a bit south of the Tower, to make things more interesting. Ah well, she thought to herself, Andwn thought we'd be back in a month or so.

Cars and trains and planes. High speed transportation. Good Go … Maker, I miss those more than typing! Even a bus sounds good! Mari yelled inside her head.

At least she didn't have to walk and she was getting better at riding. Rosy was gentle and Mari swore the mare liked her … probably because she wasn't one of those heavy guys in plate armor.

For some reason, Andwn and Ardoc said nothing to each other at the start of the journey. Mari, Duncan, Irminric and Justine had loud and boisterous conversations about themselves and their backgrounds. Andwn spoke to everyone but Ardoc. Same with Ardoc to Andwn.

The third night of absolutely no conversation between them, Andwn spun on Ardoc. "Why did you even come along? I know you hate mages!"

That surprised Mari, but — after a quick glance to Duncan who just shook his head a bit — she kept quiet and looked like she was deeply engrossed in her history of the barbarians of Ferelden. Irminric was patrolling the perimeter and Justine seemed as deeply engrossed in the tome she was reading by the firelight.

"I don't hate mages, Andwn," Ardoc said quietly. It was the first time Mari noticed his very slight German accent. Must be the Anderfels accent in Thedas. He was a very tall man with the muscle to go with it. His rusty red hair was usually tied back in a ponytail. Mari wouldn't exactly call him handsome — more craggy, but his personality was friendly … at least to her. She had no idea what concern he had with Andwn. Was it the magic?

"You never speak to me in Denerim and three days on the road … not one word!" Andwn said.

Ardoc sighed. "All right. I'll tell you why. My mother was an apostate, Andwn. In The Anderfels, that's about as close as you can get to being a criminal, a heretic." Ardoc stood and paced a moment. "She and my father had the worst argument they'd ever had one night … about how the barn should be organized. Stupid. She became an abomination later that night and killed my father and my sister. There was no Templar pressure on her. No Chantry pressure. No reason other than she wanted her way. I ran as fast as I could to the Chantry. The abomination chased me. The townsfolk and Templars cut it down right in front of me. I was outcast, too. I was stoned whenever I tried to go back into town. I traveled around for years and then became a Grey Warden."

Without even thinking about it, Mari whispered, "Maker's Breath." She was learning.

Andwn was speechless for a few moments. Then, he said, "I guess that could be a reason why you might be afraid of mages."

Ardoc gave Andwn a half-smile. "I am not afraid of you. I don't hate you. I am afraid of making a good friend and losing them."

The touching sentiment brought tears to Mari's eyes and Andwn's. "Magic is a gift of the Maker, Ardoc, but training and control are very important," Andwn explained. "Circles, Mage Collectives, other trained mages are necessary for that. I'm sure your mother did the best she could, but she was human with human emotions." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm Circle-trained. I have control. Very good control." He sniffed. "You're going to laugh at me, but I got upset because I want to be your friend. You make people feel better about themselves. You make people laugh. I was feeling left out."

Ardoc looked into the fire for a long time. Then, he looked at Andwn and smiled. "All right, friend. Bring me some of that wine you've been hiding."

After that, the rest of the trip was spent in comfortable conversation. The journey was mostly pleasant. Mari pointed out a rock formation somewhat akin to Devil's Tower on Earth, only the sides were smoother and it wasn't nearly as tall. They called it The Maker's Table in Ferelden. It was said to be made of sandstone … and a favored roost of dragons. There was little interest in chiseling out a road to the top. It was deemed not worth the effort. Besides, the name kept it from being settled and used more than anything else. The top looked barren with a small waterfall down one side. Duncan said that the waterfall only appeared after a period of rainfall, so he guessed there must be a small lake on the top.

As they broke out of the small lane onto the well-maintained north-south road along Lake Calenhad, the countryside went from vast farmland to unplanted plains and wooded areas from time to time. Since Ferelden's winters were so harsh, King Maric had recently built sturdy waystations with adjacent stone-constructed stables here and there. They didn't catch a waystation every night, but, when they did, they were generally crowded. So far, everyone had been very respectful to the Grey Wardens, even if Mari caught a few whispers about Andwn … about mages out in the open. It could have been because Irminric was along and they wished to show their loyalty to the Chantry. It seemed that most just assumed Irminric had been escorting Andwn.

It made her sad that spiritual faith seemed to become corrupted no matter where it was. Mari supposed that she would call herself agnostic. She believed in God. Someone had to start everything up. But, religion. That was sometimes messed up in the wrong hands. To be fair, almost anything would be messed up in the wrong hands. She would have to be careful just to avoid the issue as much as she could. The treatment of those who wielded magic in Thedas was harsh — the kind of harsh that caused more problems than it solved, in her opinion. Power and corruption. Like white on rice her father's once co-worker would always say, corruption always followed those who did not want to relinquish power.

Such heavy thoughts I have while riding a horse, she thought to herself just before she heard the first boom of thunder.

In local parlance, thank the Maker they found a waystation that night! There was a fierce storm brewing. Mari had just gotten Rosy settled in the stable when the first gusts of wind and rain hit. The place was packed with their group of six, a Templar from Lothering who was known to Irminric and Justine, and two women — one in Chantry robes. There was also a family and their three children, none of which had reached their teens yet, if Mari were to guess.

Mari noticed the small house had gone quiet. While she had been thinking about the mistreatment of mages, she had punched her pillow a bit more forcefully than she realized. "Sorry!" she said quickly. "My pillow gets so lumpy stuffed in my saddle bag."

"I know exactly what you mean," a cute red-headed woman said … the one wearing a Chantry robe. "I don't get away from Lothering very often, but when I travel the same happens to me." Her accent was different. Like Fiona's. Orlesian.

Mari sat on her bunk. "I'm Mari and I'm new to Ferelden. Where is Lothering?"

Ser Bryant, the Templar traveling with her, said, "After you answer that question, Sister Leliana, tell us one of your tales, if you would." There were several children in the group who were anxious with the storm blowing outside.

She smiled at the Templar and replied, "Of course, Ser Bryant." Then, she turned to Mari. "As you heard, I am Leliana. I am glad to meet you, Mari. Lothering is south and a little east of here. It is a major crossroads village in Ferelden. Many pass through to buy and sell their goods." She chuckled. "It has an excellent Chantry there and many, many good people. If you get the chance, Warden, come and visit us."

Mari smiled. This night she just chose to keep to herself that she wasn't a Warden. It was easier that way … and something that the others with her recommended to avoid long and involved conversations. "I'll try to do that, Sister Leliana."

When Leliana turned to the children, she saw that the other woman with them had already gotten the children started on a little game. The woman was fairly young, with curly dark hair and sparkling eyes. She had a great smile with deep dimples that the kids really responded to. A knowing look passed between Ser Bryant and Leliana. They were deprived of the story, but Leliana cooked up a stew instead that was fantastic … so, perhaps they'd get to hear a story some other time, depending if the storm broke by morning or not.

During the evening, Andwn sat on the bench with Mari and whispered, "The other woman from Lothering is a mage. I'd wager they're taking her to the same place we're going."

Ardoc must have overheard Andwn. He walked over to the woman once she was sitting by herself. They had a whispered conversation. Mari wondered if he was going to get upset that a non-Circle mage, or apostate as they called them, was in the small house with them. Ser Bryant walked over and joined in the conversation. It seemed to be a civil conversation … so far.

After a few minutes, Ardoc returned and whispered to Duncan, loud enough for the Denerim group to hear, "I hope you don't mind, but I went over and suggested we travel with Ser Bryant and the two ladies." He shrugged. "She told me that she was a mage trained by her Circle-trained father. I may have suggested to Bethany that she consider becoming a Grey Warden before Ser Bryant walked over."

Duncan sighed deeply. "Ardoc, I understand that it is prudent to be on the lookout for good recruits, but, if I'm traveling with you, please run it past me first next time."

"Sorry, Commander," Ardoc replied. "She's just such a sweet girl. I didn't want to see her … you know."

For some reason, the mother and father huddled their children in the corner of the waystation. The parents took turns staying awake … always watching Bethany and Andwn with fear. Real fear. Mari had seen that before on the faces of the Earth people running along the road, the people who had to abandon their cars and run back to the main road. It was the staves the two mages carried. Marked them as someone to be afraid of even though Bethany had helped ease the children's fears of the storm earlier. How horrible it must be to wield magic in Thedas, Mari kept thinking. If Steve Jobs had been treated this way, we'd have never had the start of a lot of the technology that made life easier.

Ser Bryant walked over as everyone was rising the next morning. "While we appreciate your offer, Warden. Leliana and I are going to travel our own way. Safe journey to you all, Wardens." He seemed nice enough, but a wall had gone up.

Once he walked away, Mari leaned to Andwn and whispered, "If I had been a mage, would the people of Highever treated me differently?"

Andwn frowned and sighed. He answered loudly enough for the entire room to hear. "Mages are judged even though the Chant says not to judge. They are cherished by the Maker and given a special gift, even though they are reviled and abused without any consideration. The Maker says that he will revile and judge those who abuse His children. So, the mages of Thedas will go to the Maker's Side while those who judge and revile and abuse the mages may not."

Mari had a feeling that Duncan was going to have a long talk with Andwn the next night. Even so, she completely agreed with Andwn.

Sister Leliana looked like she was going to argue, but Ser Bryant just pulled her toward the door along with Bethany.

While the mother hustled the children out the door, the father walked up to Andwn and spat on his feet. "You are all maleficars, cursed with magic. You all deserve whatever you get from the Chantry! You Wardens are nothing but maleficar sympathizers!"

Andwn only stood there and smiled. Once everyone was gone, he said, "And, now, his children have seen him for the bully he is."

"Careful, Andwn," Ardoc said. "We have to work with everyone as Wardens. Who knows? We may need to conscript him someday."

Duncan just groaned. "I apologize, Ser Irminric and Curator Justine."

Irminric only smiled sadly. "Unfortunately, Andwn has cause to say that. But, if you could try to limit such speeches to a less crowded venue in the future, I would appreciate it." His smile widened.

Andwn sighed. "You're right. I apologize as well."

It bothered Mari. It bothered her a lot. It was stupid. This world had no guns, no artillery that she could see. Hell, there were no lighters or jackhammers or electricity. Magic could fill in for all of those things. Maybe. Now, she understood why Aldous only humphed and shrugged when Mari asked him why every home didn't hire mages as servants. The Chantry had made them fear mages. "Irminric, does the Chantry use mages in its buildings?"

"To light candles?" Ardoc interrupted with a laugh.

"For protection? To move heavy things? To keep fires going? Mage assistance and advice to the Templars could be very useful. And, yeah, light those high candles for illumination? Any number of things that could make life easier!" Mari said as she got onto Rosy and they headed out on the road.

Irminric said, "The Chantry has trusted mage advisors. Competent mages get to go home … if the family wishes … and some mages work as royal healers and the like."

Andwn huffed. "I'm sorry, but I cannot remain silent when it is just us. The main reason they don't just make all the mages Tranquil is the occasional Exalted Marches against heresy."

"Right! And, for defense. Wait … make mages … Tranquil?" Mari asked.

"A Templar ritual severs the mage's access to magic and emotions," Andwn said while grinding his teeth. When he noticed Mari's look of horror, he explained, "Yep, just as horrifying as it sounds."

Ardoc said, "If they let you inside the tower, you'll see more than one, I'm sure. They have a brand on their foreheads."

Mari had to unpack what Ardoc said slowly as they got underway. "Let me inside? Brands? Like on livestock?!"

Andwn took the last one. "Yeah, no one knows why exactly. They are obviously Tranquil by their mannerisms. We're told that it's part of the ritual."

"You are from another world, Mari," Ardoc explained. "Would your world have just accepted a world-hopper into sensitive areas?"

"Wow," Mari said quietly. "I'm not sure I want to go inside." She turned in her saddle to face Irminric. "Is that true?"

Irminric was obviously going through emotions of his own. "As in any order, as I'm sure Duncan can attest with the Wardens, there are some Circles which are more harsh than others. I'm proud of our Circle, Mari. Knight-Commander Greagoir and First Enchanter Irving are fair. They work together well. Some mages ask to be made Tranquil, both by influence from family or Chantry and personal fear of demons. There is only one Tranquil in the Circle here who was made Tranquil as punishment because he killed a Templar using blood magic. I found that somewhat lenient for murder, but I was told there were extenuating circumstances."

Before Andwn could interrupt, he added, "You are about to explain that the Chantry benefits from the Tranquil's ability to work with lyrium without harm, which adds to the coffers of the Circles through the sale of magical runes. Again, I could not argue that never happens in other Circles, but here, it is not a regular for-pay business. We do have the Wonders of Thedas store in Denerim, but it is more of a barter and resale shop."

"You're right, Ser Irminric, about the Ferelden Circle of Magic. I agree and apologize for lumping everyone together. But, the Chantry is world-wide. Why can't it control excesses in other Circles?" Andwn asked.

"We can only do the best we can where we are, Warden," Irminric said with a small smile. "You have not said anything that hasn't come up at conferences every time."

Andwn sighed and turned toward Mari. "I also apologize to you if any of my words unduly biased you against the Ferelden Circle in any way. There's a nice inn just across from the Circle Tower. I hope you can go inside and meet some of the people inside the tower to make up your own mind. In the meantime, Duncan can ask the First Enchanter if he has someone who can speak with you at the Inn first."

"Irminric," Mari asked. "Is Bethany going to be made Tranquil?"

"I don't know all the details, Mari, but I doubt it. She seems a kind and well-balanced young mage. She will be interviewed and tested. The report we received about her is that she was trained by her deceased father and he was a Senior Enchanter in the Kirkwall Circle before he left to marry a woman and have children. He became an apostate, then. It was Bethany's choice to join the Circle as she was tired of the guilt of making her family move every time someone found out she was a mage.

"Bethany went to Sister Leliana and confided in her a while ago. Leliana told no one but promised to go with Bethany if she wanted to go to the Circle. Lothering believes she was just late presenting with magic and went to report directly to the Chantry. They may augment her training until she is ready to be tested to become a full mage with all the responsibilities and duties that come with that advancement. If they feel she is ready, she may be tested right away."

Mari nodded her head. "I think I'll take up your offer to wait at the Inn until you've all made advance contact … for no other reason than I don't wish to cause any trouble with my presence there."

"I think that best, Mari," Duncan said. He'd been unusually quiet. Mari couldn't tell if he was quiet because he was going make damn sure to get Anders as a new Warden or if he was rethinking the possibility as not worth the trouble. To be fair, Mari could see both sides of that mental self-discussion.

Unfortunately, the pleasant ride was ended when they came upon a fight up ahead on the road. The group from Lothering had run into trouble. Ser Bryant was surrounded by several smaller genlock darkspawn, so identified by Ardoc. Sister Leliana turned out to be very proficient with daggers and Bethany was casting spells.

Fortunately, Mari, the Wardens and the Chantry folk weren't too far behind. Duncan stopped the group and said, "Mari and Justine, please stay here with the horses. Hopefully, you won't need to, but protect the Curator if one gets by us."

Once the Wardens and Ser Irminric joined the fight, it was over quickly.

"They just came up out of the ground!" Bethany said. "I didn't think …"

She was interrupted by Ser Bryant lifting his sword and yelling, "Stop! Blood mage!"

Bethany turned toward Andwn who looked as confused as she did.

"Wait!" Ser Irminric yelled as he walked forward. "She was injured in the battle, Bryant! She has no way to cut herself!"

Breathless, Leliana said, "You … disarmed … her, Ser … Bryant."

Duncan stepped up to the agitated Templar. "You were taking most of the blows from the darkspawn. You've been wounded. Their blood is all over your armor, even near a serious wound. We'll need to watch you carefully. I am sorry."

"I know," Bryant said as he dropped his sword and went to his knees. "I'm starting to feel it already. Please forgive me, Bethany. I was confused with what I was feeling."

"You're forgiven, of course!" she said as she rushed to his side. She looked up at Duncan. "Is there nothing that can be done?"

Duncan then turned to look at her wound. "I see no darkspawn ichor near your wound, Bethany. Do you know how you got injured?"

Bethany stopped Ser Bryant's bleeding anyway. "I was trying to hold the reins of our horses … but I couldn't just let Ser Bryant and Leliana fight them all alone. I let the horses go, but Leliana's saddle had a quiver with a metal buckle. It must have scratched me."

Ardoc said, "I think I see 'em over there, Duncan. I'll go round 'em up."

Duncan nodded and then turned back to Bethany, "That looks about right with the bruising around the scratch. The short answer to your question, Bethany, is that there is nothing to stop the poisoning of the Blight." Then, he turned to the distraught Templar. "We need to talk, Ser Bryant." He motioned to a rock fence along the road.

Bethany started to cry. "This has all … Ser Bryant is such a good man … I …"

As Ardoc returned with the Lothering horses, Mari just hugged Bethany and drew her over to the other side of the road. "None of this was your fault, Bethany."

She wiped her eyes. "Bann Ceorlic was getting closer to finding out I was a mage. He's the lord of Lothering and surrounding farm-holds. The King and Loghain came to a town harvest festival recruiting for Maric's Shield and my brothers declined to tryout so they could stay home to protect me. They were putting together plans to move … again. It gave me the courage to turn myself in."

Leliana walked over. "Bethany had already spoken with me about her gift. If it's anyone's fault we're here at this moment in time, it's me, Bethany. I talked to her about Ferelden's Circle of Magi, how it was better than most. I talked you into going to Ser Bryant."

"It seems to me that it's the darkspawn's fault that Ser Bryant has been sickened. Neither of you is to blame," Mari said. "We all make decisions in life. Once made, we can seldom go back to things as they were."

Andwn and Ardoc saw to the cremation of the darkspawn bodies and Mari told Bethany and Leliana a slightly edited version of how she got to Ferelden. Different world on the verge of total destruction. No talk of technology. Apparently, Lothering hadn't gotten the memo yet. Both of them were horrified and fascinated.

Ser Bryant thought about his conversation with Duncan. He said that he needed to speak with Knight-Commander Greagoir about his replacement in Lothering … and it looked like the Wardens were about to get a new ex-Templar Warden. Andwn was cautiously okay with that. A smite would drain the mana of an emissary, too. Darkspawn magic delayed was preferable to darkspawn magic unimpeded.

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AN: Again, Judy, thanks for your encouraging word! :) Okay, I teased Greagoir a little early. Next time, Mari tries her hand at verbal storytelling!