Dragon Age Origins: Dovahkiin

by Arch-Daishou00

(M) 'Mature story' "Sea-bound to foreign shores, the Dunmeri Dragonborn Miara and her kin embark on a new land on orders from the emperor. The family's mission; To investigate and explore these foreign nations. But no objective is ever straightforward for a Doom Driven hero" Co-Author: Etheral-23. UNIGORE did the original artwork. "Thank you so much!"

6. Kinloch Hold

Disclaimer: We do not own Dragon Age or Elder Scrolls

Co-author & Beta: Etheral-23

Rewritten 2/11/2024

Kinloch Hold

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX ~ xx ~ XxX ~ xx ~ XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

Luna and Satina cast their brilliance amongst the starry sky over Lake Calenhad and the impressive tower at the lake's center. Built long ago by the Avvar with the aid of the Dwarves, a lasting testament to their skills and craftsmanship. No force could breach its doors till the conquest of the Tiventer Imperium.

To this day, it stood though the bridge that connected it to the mainland was long destroyed. Once its purpose was to protect against the enemies of Ferelden, now it was housed as the country's Circle of Magi. A gilded cage for all who possess the gift or curse of magic...

This was the destination of the Warden-Commander and his recruit. On the hill where the ruined bridge resided, the young elven man could not help but look up in awe at the looming structure that rose magnificently from the lake. Gin hadn't really been away from Denerim, so to see the great landmarks of ancient times still standing so imposingly made him feel small. The world was enormous beyond the Alienage walls.

"This is where the mages live?" The rogue questioned in disbelief and awe.

"Indeed," Duncan replied, "It is here where the mages study their craft under the watchful eyes of the Templars." He motioned the elf to follow him as they climbed down the hill towards the small collection of houses that sat at the lake's shore. "And it is here where we shall gather another recruit."

There was no doubt in Gin's mind that mages made for valuable Wardens. Though he had little idea of what their magic could do, few people ever saw a mage in their entire life, but one heard the stories, calling upon fire and thunder at their fingertips, the very forces of nature answering to their claim. It is what made magic so frightening, the idea of someone having such power.

"The Chantry has already mobilized a regiment of mages and made for Ostagar," the commander continued. But I would like to add at least one mage to our ranks."

"Do you have any potential recruits?" Gin asked. Duncan's words from before still lingered in his mind, almost like he had intended to recruit him all along.

"Not exactly," He responded with a shake of his head. "It's my purpose to speak with the First Enchanter to see if the Circle is able to provide a mage with enough seniority and skill."

As Gin took on his words, pondering, Duncan still felt that nagging sensation in the back of his head, like they were being followed. But throughout the journey, he couldn't find any sign that would prove his suspicions correct. He just hoped it was his paranoia making him see figures in the shadows.

Above them, a bat flew into the Tower unnoticed.

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

Her breath was heavy as her heart raced ascending to the very top of Kinloch Hold's peak. It had finally come, the end of her apprenticeship. Now, all that awaited her was the final test, where she would either become a full-fledged mage or be slain as a possessed abomination.

Being a mage was a harsh life. Being an elven mage was even harsher. Forcefully taken away from her father, screaming and crying by Templars from Denerim. Fear etched her very being at the sight of the imposing Circle Tower before being locked within with fellow mages. All the while Templars kept vigil, watching every movement and action of their charges, or prisoners as Anders vocally called it.

Still, despite the hate and racism of some, Neria Surana did not let herself be broken. Save her dearest friend, Brianna Amell; her talent in the arcane shined like the rawest gem. It was thanks to the guidance of Senior Enchanter Wynne and, finally, First Enchanter Irving himself that she truly harnessed her power.

Now was the next step. At last, she reached the peak of the tower, the Harrowing chamber. It is a massive circular room with large pillars encircling stained glass windows at the room floor and the very top.

Men and a few women stood around the chamber. They wore full body armor and helmets, with an embroiled purple or blue skirt wrapped around the waist with chainmail underlay. The breastplate had the blade of mercy engraved on it.

These were the Templars. Holy knights of the Chantry and keeper of the mages.

Standing in the middle of the room were two men Neria knew well. Her mentor was dressed in a green and brown robe, holding a staff in his hand. His gaze was warm with immense wisdom in his eyes upon his wrinkled face. Though in his twilight years, his hair and full beard greyed, First Enchanter Irving was a powerful mage and greatly respected, even among the Templars.

Next to him was Knight-Commander Greagoir in his Templar armor save the helmet. A hard and strict man devoted to the order. He followed the Chantry and Templar code to the letter. Yet despite no love for mages, he wouldn't throw one in a cell or make them Tranquil unless there was evidence and reason. Greagoir was a man just starting into his winter years, as evidenced by his short grey hair. But like Irving, the Knight-Commander had not lost his edge in battle, fighting younger people to submission with ease.

Her brown locks swayed with each step as her dark, tanned skin seemed to glow against the candlelight. Amber eyes steeled themselves at the challenge before her. The ever-watchful Templars' gaze followed her as she walked past them, vigilant and ready to act against the first sign of corruption.

Neria would not fall; this was her calling. She had been prepared for this her entire life. Many expectations were riding on her, and she would not disappoint her teachers or her friends.

But most of all, herself.

She was a mage, and as such, she needed to prove herself.

Irving stood in front of the ceremonial pedestal with a bowl on the top, his eyes kind and full of wisdom as always. At his side was the Knight-Commander Greagoir, face stern and disciplined as any soldier. While her mentor's gaze was appraising, the Templar's gaze carried an all too familiar judgment.

"'Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him,'" Greagoir began, speaking the most sacred line in the Chant for the Templars. "Neria Surana, you have been called today to prove yourself. Your magic is a gift, but it is also a curse," Greagoir continued; it sounded more like he was paraphrasing lines. No doubt they had given this speech countless times before. "For it attracts the attention of demons, whose whispers of temptation fill your dreams."

Unfortunately, Neria was all too familiar with it. She had experienced it quite a few times already, but she was smart enough to shut down any attempt at conversation she found suspicious whenever a demon pretended to be a benign spirit.

The First Enchanter took over, "You have proven yourself talented in the craft and must now face the final test for you to become a full-fledged mage of the Circle." He waved his hand at the pedestal, and Neria could feel the familiar hum of magic from the blue substance inside the bowl. "With this lyrium, a ritual shall be performed; you shall enter the Fade and face a demon, armed only with your will."

The elven woman pressed her lips and gulped quietly. So far, she had been trying to resist the temptations of demons and ignore their whispers. This would be the first time she'd ever faced one directly.

She steadied her breathing as she strode towards the pedestal with lyrium. Beside it stood a man around her age in Templar armor like the Knight-commander and the rest. His eyes danced with uneasiness upon her approach; she had recalled him as one of the few Templars who was ever nice to her. Cullen, if she recalled his name right.

Neria gave him a respectful nod as she gazed down at the glowing liquid. She could feel its power as she raised her hand over the lyrium. With one more reassuring breath, she dipped her hand in, and a light soon enveloped her.

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

The young elven mage slowly awoke and found herself lying on the ground- or at least something that resembled the ground. She had gotten to her feet as she looked at the world she had visited many times in her dreams.

"The Fade..."

Ever changing, with structures and surroundings that were strange, alien in comprehension. To say this was the realm of dreams was barely scratching the surface. Every concept, every metaphor, every emotion, and every abstract idea became physical in the Fade. It was not just the dreams of mortals that gave shape to the currents of the Fade, but the mere act of living; the events in the physical world would send ripples so strong they would engrave themselves in the Fade as memories. Though always distorted by the perspective of people, just like their inhabitants.

The number of mages in such proximity to one another made this section of the Fade very... misshapen, perhaps. Too many conflicting ideas and dreams. With patches of uneven ground that did not quite look like regular soil, floating islands that could suddenly make a place for giant lush forests, endless deserts, and ancient fortresses. The Fade was as fluid as the ocean waves.

The one constant was the Black City, forever in the distance.

Neria let the arcane winds of the Fade wash over her, bringing a sense of tranquility. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing to embark on her quest. Spirits and demons could be anywhere.

"Wow! It's like living in a water painting!"

Like right here next to her, apparently.

Neria opened her eyes and turned to see a female spirit levitating off the misshapen ground with her legs crossed in a meditative-looking position. She donned robes with intricate wavy designs of colorful embroidery, long loose sleeves, and a long skirt; fastened around her waist was a belt with multiple pouches; every part of her attire was decorated with arcane sigils Neria did not recognize. The spirit had chosen to take the form of an elf with long raven-colored hair in a ponytail, but the grey skin and red eyes gave away its true nature. Perhaps it just took that form for Neria's convenience but was not interested in deceiving her, or else the spirit would have made sure to appear as natural as possible.

"Hello~!"

The circle mage cocked her head; "Hello."

With a smile, the spirit landed on the ground, standing beside her; "I was wondering just how I could find my way into this place." A whistle came from the entity at the sight of an odd statue; "I have to say this was not what I was expecting when Zathrian and Marathari explained the Fade to me. You can't make heads or tails of this place. Oh, sorry, call me Sarya!"

"...You're odd for a spirit." She had met a few in her dreams, but never one who rambled so much.

Confusion came from the spirit with a lifted brow; "You think I'm a spirit?"

"Well, I've never met a grey-skinned elf. So you're obviously a spirit or demon."

At that, the spirit huffed in anger, "Well, you should get out more; it does wonders on one's perspective." The spirit took a long look at her blue robe with gold lining; "So a mage too, eh?"

Well, Neria would humor the spirit for now, but still kept an eye out in case she was planning anything. "Indeed, I'm here on a test. A sort of 'graduation' from apprentice, you could say."

"Ohhh! A test? I love tests!" The grey-skinned elf spirit skipped as she approached, making Neria realize this 'Sarya' was much taller than she was. "My teacher always made the best tests. He even made tests for a test to take the real test!"

"...Right." Perhaps this was a spirit of exuberance or curiosity. "I need to face a demon myself."

"Ah, a trial by fire then," Sarya said in understanding. "Yes, my teacher was fun giving those too. But what do you mean by 'face'? Is it combat? Or perhaps you must outwit the demon?"

The dark-skinned elf shrugged, "Both are a possibility; the risk of possessions usually involves either. So, if you'll excuse me, I need to get going." The elf turned around... only to find Sarya standing before her, smiling widely.

"Can I join? I am so very interested in seeing what your trial involves."

Neria looked at the spirit warily as it rolled its eyes: "I won't interfere; I'm just curious, okay?"

The young mage gave a slow nod, which made Sarya smile, and soon followed her with a skip to her steps. Maybe this was a spirit of childishness; was there a spirit like that? Neria shook it off; she had to focus.

Soon after, Neria discovered that focusing was nearly impossible because the spirit wouldn't stop asking questions.

'How do you classify your schools of magic?' 'Would you call the population of mages in your Circle average, small or big?' 'What's your specialty?' 'Have you considered which areas you'll focus your studies on? I find it best to branch out extensively.' 'Are those official Circle robes, or is it just poor taste in clothing?'

Neria was beginning to think this was the challenge. To endure this inane banter would be good training to fortify one's mind.

"So, where is this demon you'll be facing?"

The Circle mage let out a soft sigh; "That is what I'm trying to figure out. If I am to best a demon, I must know not only where it is but what type it is. Their abilities can differ widely from each other. Rage demons are fierce and wild, with strong flame elements. Desire demons strike with illusions and mind-controlling abilities. Despair demons attack with ice and can deprive you of your will-"

She would have continued were it not for a new voice that interrupted her.

"Oh, if you're looking for despair, you've come to the right place."

The two women stopped their walk, gazing around to find the source, but there was nothing in front of them.

"Down here."

At their feet was a mouse on its hind legs staring up at them. "So another mage called for their Harrowing. But all that waits for you is death."

"You're a mouse," Neria simply replied, but she knew better. In the Fade, things were always more than they met the eyes.

"Only in the form I've chosen to take."

"And who are you?"

Her question was met with the mouse turning into light. Both ladies covered their eyes before a figure of a human man with short red hair and dressed in red robes appeared. Melancholy danced in his blue eyes; "Just a lost soul who never survived his Harrowing. The Templars killed me, but my soul remained here. Call me Mouse since that's all I am good for. Hiding in the small places from the more evil nasties around here."

"Your soul remained here?" Neria questioned in surprise. "Few times has the Circle ever encountered such a phenomenon."

Mouse gave her a deadpanning look, "So glad that my situation piques your curiosity."

The elven mage blushed in embarrassment; "F-Forgive me, I did not mean it like that."

"A soul, hmm? " her companion questioned, her voice carefully collected. "Interesting?" Sarya's red eyes narrowed at him, and Mouse seemed to flinch under her gaze as though her presence unnerved him.

"Y-You keep interesting company, my friend," He said before sighing, "I know what you're going through; the Templars did the same thing to me. They dragged me in the middle of the night for this test, and when I did not finish in the time they expected me to, they just killed me. Thought I was in the process of being possessed."

"I'm sorry," Neria said in sympathy, "It is an unforgiving ritual but a necessary one. The threat of possession is too risky."

Mouse let out a humorless laugh, "Oh, they really got to you, didn't they? I used to think like you, but the Fade, well, it changes your mind as much as your mind changes it."

"What's your true name?" The shorter elf asked.

"It's... ugh, blast it all. I've been so long in here I've forgotten." His gaze became downcast. "You forget a lot in the Fade, trapped here for long." Mouse met her gaze, "I don't want you to go through this alone like I did; I'd like to help you succeed."

"Hmm," Neria shifted her head towards Sarya, who stared intently at Mouse. Her gaze was unreadable, as the soul of the late mage looked physically uncomfortable. Sarya looked at her with a smile: "More the merrier, eh? Where do we go?"

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

"Oh, look at that!" Sarya chirped, and a sigh came from Neria as the grey elf stood over a precipice to a bottomless pit to better see the Black City. Seriously, she had never met such a strange spirit who seemed to have the energy of a child. Who was either talking her pointy ears off or expressing intense fascination with every strange object in the Fade?

But she found it odder that they had not encountered much of anything saved a few wisps. These would soon fly off, with Sarya chasing after them like a playful cat with a new toy. Mouse had been shifting uncomfortably, throwing odd glances toward the grey-skinned spirit. He did not like her for whatever reason. Thus, he had been speaking to Neria and avoiding any interaction with Sarya.

He was currently in his mouse form, riding on Neria's shoulder, whispering into her ear so the grey-skinned elf-looking being would not hear. "You should not be in her company. She feels... strange."

"She can be quirky," Neria whispered back, "But she seems alright."

"You don't get it. I have not felt anything like her before; her nature alone it is..."

Whatever he was about to say next died in his mouth as Sarya cheerfully exclaimed, "Oh, here's somebody else!"

And indeed, standing not too far from them was the glowing figure of a knight in front of rows of weapons on numerous racks. A spirit that embodied a virtue, no doubt, Neria watched in curiosity as he used his magic to cast light; this one solidified and became a blade. He grasped the weapon and inspected it; the mage couldn't tell if he was satisfied or not but placed it on one of the racks with the others.

"Oh, him again." Mouse's tone of voice suggested that he was familiar with this spirit and not too fond of him. "Whatever you do, don't talk about weapons with him. You'll be here for decades listening to his rambling."

"I know a few people who'd get along with him," Sarya commented.

The spirit noticed their presence as they approached. "Ahhh, a mortal mage once more embarks through their fool's quest, I see. Accompanied by... something I do not recognize." His booming voice became lost and confused as he stared at the grey elf. "Who are you, Shining One?"

Shining One? The spirit must be able to see something Neria could not.

"I'm Sarya. Nice to meet you, " she cheerfully waved. And this is Neria. She's on her trial!"

The golden spirit gave a respectful nod before he turned his gaze to Neria; "I am Valor. As a warrior spirit, I find it rather distasteful that your mages send their own blindly and unarmed while being stalked by a cowardly predator in the shadows. A true test is facing one's opponent head-on."

At that, Sarya smirked; "Yup, know a few people who'd like you."

"Do you know anything about our Harrowing?" Curiosity ebbed in Neria's voice.

Valor cocked his head; "They call it that? Forgive me, for I do not know much of the ways of mortals. My time is mostly spent honing the art of combat and the beauty of weaponry." His gaze shifted at the sight of Sarya coming closer to his array of weapons; "Are they to your liking, Shining One?"

"Your weapons are beautiful."

"Thank you."

Neria herself noticed a mage's staff leaning against the rack. "Could I borrow that staff for my trial?"

"Hmm, I suppose you could. But how about a demonstration of your skills for it? Face me in battle," Valor stated as he gazed hard at the young mage.

The mage reeled back in surprise and worried at his sudden challenge. She had come here knowing a fight might be inevitable, but she did expect a spirit that embodied a virtue would seek to test her as well. Though come to think of it, it made sense a warrior spirit would do so...

"Really?" Sarya quirked an eyebrow incredulously at his declaration. "You just said she's unarmed, and you want to fight her? That's not very honorable, I think."

Neria knew a mage was never unarmed, but this spirit clearly put more emphasis on martial skill with weaponry. Valor seemed to consider the grey woman's words, his gaze lowered in thought.

"Hmm, perhaps you are right. It was too bold of me to demand that of you," the spirit admitted in apology, making Neria sigh in relief. After all, you have yet to face the demon. It would be unfair for you to waste energy when your challenge lies ahead."

At that, Neria perked up, "Do you know where it is?"

The shining spirit pointed south, where the malformed earth sunk further and further into what looked to be the twisted entrance to a cave. From the darkness came a sense of foreboding accompanied by coldness. There was no doubt in Neria's mind that the demon was there.

"You don't have to do this," Mouse insisted. "Maybe you can find a way to escape this wretched ritual."

"If I do it, I'll just be proving I can't be trusted."

"Oh, who cares what the Templars believe? Those bastards see corruption everywhere."

"It's not them I have to prove it to," Neria clarified. "But to me. " She went to retrieve the staff that leaned against the racks. It felt weightless. The staff was there, but it was not truly physical; it was just another construct of the Fade. But she could feel its power, Valor's power, was very much real.

"Commendable," Valor said in approval.

Sarya looked at Neria with appraising eyes, her usually cheerful face betraying no emotion. "Have you ever fought before?"

"I have received training in combat magic."

"Not what I asked."

At that, the young elf bowed her head. "This... would be my first time." She gripped the staff and held it close.

"So this will be a true trial by fire for you. It is at these moments that you learn the person you are when you either fight or flee, " Valor said grimly.

Sarya tapped her chin. "You could die. Are you aware of this?" Neria nodded. Yet you still wish to fight?"

The Circle mage raised her head; "Yes." Her voice was resolute and steely.

Valor gave a nod of approval while Sarya crossed her arms cocking her head; "Then would you like a hand?" Confusion etched on Neria's face; "I know a spell that could help you face this... 'Demon'. Or any unholy creatures if you face more if you survive this."

"You would teach me a spell?"

"I would give you a tool," Sarya replied, "A spell is only as useful as the mage who uses it. This spell, if my knowledge of your schools is right, is not like that of any mage craft Thedas has seen before. This power is pure 'light'"

"Light?"

The grey woman bit her lower lip, gaze shifting in thought. "It's difficult to explain, and you don't have the time needed to learn it the regular way. I can give you the knowledge of the spell." She tapped her temple, "Straight to your mind."

Neria's eyes widened, "My mind? But that... would mean I need to give you access to it and..."

Years of Circle teachings surged forth, screaming 'Blood Magic!'. She was horrified at the mere thought of someone just... entering her mind like that. It would leave her vulnerable to whatever Sarya wanted to do; so far, she had not acted malicious in any way or form towards her... But what if that was her plan all along? To lower her into a false sense of security.

"Don't do it!" Mouse warned her.

"Neria," Sarya gently expressed, "I mean no harm to you. I know it's all very strange, but believe me when I say I want to help you."

"...Why?"

"Because magic should be nurtured, and what your Chantry stands for fills me with rage." It was evident how calm she was even as she spoke those words, as though she was using all of her willpower not to explode. "You, your peers, deserve better than this."

"She speaks the truth," Valor agreed. "She may be many things, but her words are spoken with nothing but the truth."

As a spirit, Valor could peer into people's very souls. If he could truly see what Neria could not...

She turned to face the cave once more. The dread and fear of the unknown assaulted her. She hesitated, her early confidence vanishing swiftly.

With a stiff nod, Neria agreed.

Sarya approached and gently placed her hand on the side of the shorter elf's head. Neria felt something tugging at her brain like a stream of magic was filling in empty spaces of memory with knowledge. Just pure knowledge.

"This magic is light," Sarya spook softly. "It is sacred; it is righteous... it is Order."

Her body felt a powerful warmth envelope her... Akin to a parent wrapping you in a loving and protective embrace. A tear rolled down one of her eyes as the sensation reminded the young elf of her father before the Templars came and took her away. Soon, an image formed in her mind, blurry at first but soon cleared.

A weapon?

A weapon of pure light. Light so powerful no darkness could escape its reach. So warm she knew she'd always be safe in its glow. Its nature felt like a soothing hymn... "Order," she whispered. For that's what it was, that which stood against chaos. Neria wiped away her tears before she gave a grateful nod to Sarya; "Whatever you are. Thank you."

The spirit just smirked with a wink; "You're welcome. Now go show this demon you're not an elf to be trifled with."

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

Neria stood at the threshold of the cave; Sarya said she would remain with Valor, so the young mage went alone with Mouse on her shoulder. However, the cave entrance looked about the size of a mine, as she had seen from drawings. The inside seemed to be an ever-reaching shaft that went on for eternity. Wisps were the only sources of light within this dark structure.

"You could still turn back," Mouse whispered.

Her response was to continue her stride within the cave. Her heart raced, but her nerves were steel as the wisps seemed to guide her through the dark.

A long wheezing moan echoed; "Lost little elf," a distorted albeit feminine raspy voice spoke. "Have you come to let the darkness claim you?"

The mage stood firm. "I have to shed light on my path," she said, tightening her grip on her staff.

The raspy mournfully spoke, "So naive, holding on to hope."

From the shadows seemed to form a figure wrapped in tattered robes; the hands were claw-like with skin so dried up it might as well belong to the corpse; under the hood, the elf saw no eyes, just a skeletal visage with teeth far too large that occupied nearly half of its face.

"A grave mistake."

A Despair demon, the opposite of Hope, a creature that took away determination, tearing away the foundations of self and purpose and replacing it with misery.

"Do you have any idea how many of you little mages have they sent to their deaths?" The creature said it sounded pained, but Neria knew better than to presume it was out of sympathy. This was despair. This was her natural state. She fed upon the pain of others because she was in pain. "Is it any wonder I am drawn to your tower? The tears of the child shunned by their parents, the cries of the mage abused by the Templars, the utter hopelessness they feel when they wake up every day and see only walls around them. The breeze in the fields is naught but a dream to them..."

"I didn't come here to hear you ramble," Neria said, trying to ignore how much the words were actually affecting her. She sometimes wondered what it felt, to be outside and... No! This was exactly what the demon wanted: to inflict misery on her until her defenses were weak enough!

The dark-tanned elf shook her head, trying to think of the moments that gave her comfort. Her apprenticeship under those wonderful people, her friends. She would succeed in this trial; she would become a mage and-

"And then what?" The demon finished, feeling her internal turmoil. "Spend day after day trapped inside that gilded cage, telling yourself it's for the best? Is it truly what you wish or what others have decided for you?"

...She would become a mage, but to what end? To change the Circles, give more liberties to the mages? Not as long as the Chantry remained adamant on their stance on magic. Not as long as there were Abominations out there, and Tevinter in the north gave them more justification for their paranoia. They would only preach the Maker's hatred for magic all the same.

So why was she here? What was she even going to accomplish?

She would be another mage who'd spend her whole life doing nothing of value.

Neria felt tired. The grip on her staff began to lose strength.

The demon was in front of her, holding her hands on her cheeks as if trying to comfort her.

"There is no reason to go on," the demon whispered. "Wouldn't it be nice just to let it all end? No more pain, no more sadness. Only silence eternal."

That sounded... comforting. What purpose had a bird if they had no wings to fly on? What was hope, if not another thing denied to them mages?

...Hope was the capacity to smile every day despite the clutches of circumstance, which never showed you any favor. Crying out against the darkness, shouting 'I am here' to an empty and uncaring world, was a sign of strength.

Neria did not know where this sudden surge of strength came from, but she took comfort in it. She remembered when she first came to the Circle, lost and alone. The kind smiles of Wynne and Irving gave her comfort, and the hand of another lost child grasping her own assured her everything was going to be okay because they'd be here for her every step of the way.

She would be so selfish as to abandon all that kindness they gave her.

In her mind, she saw a light. Gentle, warm, yet fierce and righteous at the same time.

She grasped it. In her empty hand, a shaft of light with a sharp end formed; its glow vanished the darkness from the cave.

Mouse jumped away in fright, while Despair floated away and cried out in agony. "The light!" Her screech was unnatural. Not even a wounded animal would make such noise. "The light!" She tried to claw her face, anything as to avoid the light.

Neria called forth a magic that was the demon's antithesis. Drive, justice, hope.

Order.

The mage thrusted the 'Spear' forward, deep into the demon's heart. Despair screamed as its figure cracked like broken glass. Beams of light bursting free from the fissures expanded more and more until, finally, the creature burst into a shower of golden dots.

Neria gasped, her eyes wide upon the sight of Despair's destruction. Soon, the cave itself vanished, and she found herself standing upon a massive open circular space with ethereal floating torches. The young mage perked up and shifted, hearing Sarya cheer beside Valor, who gave a respectful nod of approval in the distance.

It was then that she realized Mouse was gone from her shoulder. "Well done!" she turned on her heels at Mouse in human form a good distance away. You succeeded in your Harrowing." Was he… afraid to get near her?

The elf gave a weary grin; "I had good help."

"Now you can do what I can't. Leave this infernal place."

Neria smiled sympathetically, "I wish I could help." At that, Mouse cautiously walked over.

"Maybe you could?" Confusion etched on the young elf's face; "There could be a way I might be able to leave with you."

Confusion slowly crept away from her mind as a small suspicious feeling started to build. For the longest time, Neria stared at Mouse. "...The test isn't over, is it." It was a statement more than a question.

Mouse coyly smiled; "Of course it is. You journeyed the Fade and faced your demon. You've proven yourself capable and powerful. You are a true mage for which your teacher will be proud. Perhaps the title of Grand Enchanter awaits one of your caliber." He leaned in, still smiling; "And all I ask is a hand to help me be free."

She gripped her staff tighter as she slowly backed away. "Despair wasn't the only part of the test..." Neria's eyes shone with determination as she glared, "You're the real demon..."

At that, Mouse pouted before laughing. But his voice had changed; it was deeper, dark, and malicious. "Well, smarter than most, I see. Too easily can one fall prey to the Fade when they trust so blindly. Be it overconfidence... Or Pride..."

Mouse's body soon grew before being enveloped in light. It faded to appear as a monstrous giant with scaly purple skin, massive forearms, and long twisted spikes on its elbows. Horns adorned its head, and multiple diamond-shaped eyes glared down at her.

The young Circle mage nearly leaped back, her staff ready and holy spear in each hand. Mouse growled with a sneer, "True tests never end, Neria Surana. Remember that well..."

It was then light covered Neria as she vanished. The demon growled, how he hated his bound existence to that accursed Circle, so many mages, talented and perfect for hosts, yet all away from his reach.

"Hey, ugly!" Mouse shifted his large head and scowled, seeing that... whatever or whoever that 'Sarya' was as she stood beside that obnoxious spirit of Valor near the massive demon.

"You... I have no idea what you are, but you feel like something beyond the Fade. I thought I had witnessed all manner of creatures and entities, but you." The Pride demon lowered its head until it was right above Sarya's. "You are something more."

"It's a family thing," The grey elf airily said. "I have to say, I find the Fade intriguing. And I find you 'demons'" She let a soft laugh, "hilarious, you actually think you are above mortals. Oh please, you DEPEND on mortals for your existence. You have no will of your own; you only follow the nature the dreams of mortals gave you." She tilted her head with a condescending smile. "The only reason people consider you threats is because they don't fully understand how malleable your existence is."

The great creature growled hatefully, "You better watch your tongue..."

"Or what? Does the Circle bind you? Are you not? I find myself mystified about how that did not shatter your 'pride.' But I guess I can't expect much from the figment of someone's imagination."

Sarya did not flinch as Mouse roared in her face. The Telvanni mage snorted; "I've heard roars that could shake the ground and crack the sky. That sounded like a mild whine to me."

Valor held back a snort as Mouse sneered with utter rage in his eyes: " If that blasted circle did not bind me, I would gladly tear you both asunder."

"I'd watch yourself, Pride. This is not a being to confront." Valor warned though he would relish battling and putting an end to this demon alongside Sarya.

"Be silent, Valor."

"I've met true demons," Sarya continued, inching closer to the Pride's maw. "True manifestations of chaos and change, as well as the embodiment of concepts so vast your 'pride' is barely a grain of dust before their magnificence. So run along, little thought-form, the winds of fate are howling." Her form shimmered, slowly vanishing into motes of light. "I can feel you won't survive the maelstrom."

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

"You are going to leave indent in the floor if you keep pacing."

"Oh hush, I'm allowed to worry."

A young man dressed in dark purple and blue mage robes rolled his brown eyes. His face average with short scruffy brunette hair and a fair complexion, Jowan was, at best, a plain-looking man. Pacing close by was one of his closest friends since coming to the Circle. Unlike him, she was a fair-skinned beauty with long raven-colored hair and a perfect hourglass figure for which her velvet mage robes hugged her curves and generous bust. But what was most striking were her sapphire eyes, which at the moment held intense worry.

Both stood around in the Apprentice Quarters of the circle. This was a massive open room with a dozen or so beds for learning apprentice magic users and people just brought in by the Templars. Privacy was not much of a luxury here, especially since the baths and lavatories were in the room next to it, and Templars were watching every move.

Still, comfort could be found in the small things. Mostly friendship, which was what made Brianna Amell pace as Jowan watched while they waited for their other dearest friend who was currently facing her harrowing.

"You have some faith in Neria, don't you?" Jowan asked with a raised brow.

Brianna paused as she glared towards the man; "Of course I bloody do. But I can't help it."

"Neria is one of the most talented mages I know; she'll make it through."

Of that Brianna had no doubt, but one couldn't blame her for worrying about her best friend. Neria's skill in magic was unquestionable, but it was the Templars in which Brianna lacked any faith. Those bucket heads were always looking for the smallest sign of 'corruption,' anything to put down mages.

The Amell would not trust them to give her the hour of the day, much less believe they'd show restraint. She did not hide her low opinion of them, and that had gotten her in trouble quite a few times. But Brianna did not care. They had taken her freedom; they would not take her voice as well.

Jowan and Neria had lost count of how many arguments Brianna and the Knight-Commander had.

The Harrowing, as its name implied, was a very dangerous ordeal. One that Brianna was happy to have gotten it over with. It was simply insane to thrust a mage without warning into making contact with a demon without preparing them first. That's how the Abominations they hated so much happened in the first place, by being unprepared. The trials they faced and the fear that the Templars did not bother quelling drove many mages to desperation. Some even went as far as to choose to become Tranquil.

Of course, the Templars were all too happy with that solution...

The large doors to the quarters opened, and all eyes turned to see two Templars entering the room, carrying stretchers, one at each end. On the stretcher was Neria, the elven mage with her eyes closed, completely unaware of what was happening around her.

Brianna couldn't have moved to her side any faster. "Neria!" she said, raising her voice in concern.

"She has passed her harrowing," One of the Templars informed her, "But is exhausted."

Relief flushed over Brianna and Jowan as they watched the Templars place Neria on one of the beds. "Quickest harrowing to date next to yours, Amell." The other Templar spoke before leaving with his comrade out of the quarters.

Brianna ignored them as she and Jowan sat on either side of the bed where their elven friend lay. The raven-haired mage adjusted some of Neria's bangs, saying nothing as she watched her friend's sleeping face.

Hard to believe this was the crying little elven girl she and Jowan found hiding under one of the beds after being ripped from her family and brought here. All three had roughly been taken to Kinloch Hold around the same time and age, though Jowan was the oldest by a year. An unlikely friendship, but friends were all you had in this damn prison. And Brianna cherished Neria and Jowan both deeply.

"She might not wake for a bit," Jowan quietly spoke.

"I'm not leaving her side," Brianna spoke back with resolution, which made her male friend sigh.

Thankfully, neither had to wait too long, as Neria had begun to stir with a soft groan. Her eyes opened, and she was greeted by the warm gazes of her two oldest friends. "Welcome back," the young Amell grinned.

The elf slowly sat up. Her entire body felt groggy and sore, and the Harrowing had taken a lot out of her. But it was clear from the look in her eyes that she was happy to have passed. "Well, that was... thrilling."

"Sure, nothing to get the blood flowing like fighting a demon" Brianna sardonically said. "In my Harrowing, I faced a Desire demon. Pretty as a dream she was, she offered me anything I wanted. Got reeeeeeally handsy, was a shame, but of course, I had to burn her face off."

"Figures a pretty face tempted you," Neria grumbled as she massaged her neck and stretched, popping the joints.

Her friend snorted, "What about you? What did you face?"

"Despair"

Brianna made a face as she hissed, "Oh, those are bad. But you're here, and it's not, ergo: You're awesome." At that, Neria couldn't help but laugh a little.

Jowan sighed, "Hearing you girls talk like that makes me I'll never get my harrowing." He paced around with his arms crossed. "I've been here longer than you, and I still haven't been called."

The human woman sighed, pinching her nose; "Okay, Jowan. First, not that much longer. Second, your grades need to improve before they decide you're ready."

The male mage blushed in embarrassment, "I think I've been doing good lately." Granted, because the two were giving him multiple study lessons every night and making sure the knowledge was being drilled directly into his head if they had to. This meant long, long, tedious hours of hitting the books...

And it was finally paying off, if only just as their friend had been making improvements. Neria, with a groan, stood up from the bed; "You'll get there, Jowan, don't fret." Count on their elven comrade to have the most optimism among them.

"Says the girl personally trained by the First Enchanter," Jowan mumbled with a light scowl.

The elven mage only shrugged as the Apprentice doors opened, revealing a young human woman with scarlet hair in a ponytail, fair skin, and brown eyes dressed in a tan mage's robe. "Ah, there you are!"

"Petra?" Brianna spoke as she and Jowan stood.

A nod came from their fellow mage before her sights went back to Neria; "First, Enchanter wanted to see you when you were up to it. Congratulations on surviving you're harrowing."

"Thank you." Neria gave a smile as Petra left, relaying her message. The now fully fledged mage turned to her friends; "No time like the present, I guess. I'm going to see what my teacher wants."

"I will most likely award you your private quarters like I have." Brianna hoped it would be the room next to hers.

Right, once an apprentice became a fully-fledged mage, they were allowed their room on the second floor. Neria had seen one of their rooms in passing. It would be nice to have some privacy. Well, what a mage would consider privacy with Templars ever vigilant?

Saying her farewells, Jowan sighed as Neria left; "More studies for me..."

A faint smirk crept on Brianna's lips; "Studies? Is that what you call visiting your sweetheart?" Her friend only blushed.

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

As she walked through the Hallway, she met the passing glances of approval and acknowledgment from her peers, congratulating her on passing through the Harrowing. The Templars, the ones whose faces were visible, barely acknowledged at all. To them, she was another mage to keep an eye out for, Harrowing or not. Though that shy one Cullen still stammered and babbled nonsense for some reason, he was still getting used to his role most likely.

As soon as she approached the First Enchanter's study, Neria heard him speaking with someone. "I know the situation in Ostagar is dire, but we have already sent a regiment."

Ostagar? That's where the king's army was going to face the growing Darkspawn horde. Knowing Wynne was there honestly scared her. She knew the seasoned mage could take care of herself, but that didn't stop her from worrying about any of the mages sent.

"I understand, and we're grateful for your support. But we can always use more recruits." Another strong voice that Neria didn't recognize spoke.

"I can't just hand over any mages. Beyond the fact that I need to consider the Circle's needs, you also need battle-tested mages. Of which we don't really have in large supply."

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she stepped through the open door, allowing herself to enter. There, she saw Irving and two other men, a human and an elf. The elf had short brown locks and possessed strong green eyes that stared at her with curiosity, apparently not paying much attention to the conversation between the First Enchanter and his companion. The human had dark-tanned skin and a strong build, wearing a distinct set of armor that looked rather light. As far as Neria knew, the only armor she had seen for years was the heavy plates of the Templars.

The First Enchanter turned to face her with a smile. "Ahh, there you are, dear. May I introduce you to Warden-Commander Duncan and his recruit, Gin Tabris? This is our newly minted mage, Neria Surana."

The Warden-Commander? That was very unexpected. "It is an honor, " she replied with a short bow. The elven man's name sounded rather familiar to her, though she couldn't quite place it.

Gin's eyes, however, shone with recognition as he looked as if he had seen a ghost. Surana, Neria Surana. Images flooded his mind for a moment of a little girl who played with him, Shianni, and Soris. A little girl who was discovered to have magic and forcefully taken by Templars who beat her father for pleading with them.

"Neria..." The rogue elf whispered as said elven mage cock a brow. "Your father is Kailu Surana, right?"

At that, Neria's eyes lit up upon the mention of her father's name before she gave her fellow elf a long look: "...By Andraste. Gin?!" Not even realizing it, she ran over and hugged the stunned elf.

"Well, that is unexpected, I would say," Irving spoke with a kind smile.

"I can't believe it!" Neria said as she and the other elf parted. "I haven't seen you since we were children!"

"Look at you," Gin said with a good-natured smile. "You're a full mage, huh? You must be brewing potions and casting all sorts of spells. If it's not clear, I have no idea what a mage does."

The mage laughed softly at his words, "Well, there is potion making. But what about you? A Warden!" She gestured at him with her hands. "You must have really impressed them."

"Sort of," he awkwardly drawled. "Suffice it to say that Duncan saved my life when he could have let me die... which now means I'll die fighting Darkspawn," he said the last part in a droning voice.

The Warden-Commander looked amused by his words and patted him on the shoulder. "It'll be a good death, " he said.

"It's... better than the Alienage, at least?" Neria shrugged, offering a weak smile.

"Endlessly fighting Darkspawn," He weighed on one hand, and then in the other, "Constant poverty under stuck-up Shems... I honestly can't tell which is worse right now," Gin snorted, "Maybe the food will be better."

"Oh, you won't be picky about food. Trust me," Duncan said with a cryptic smile as he turned to Irving once more. "So this is your apprentice, then? I heard promising things about her."

Irving frowned at the man, already figuring out what was going on behind those eyes. It was always the same whenever a Warden wanted a recruit. "Don't even think about it; Neria is fresh off her Harrowing. And she has a very promising future here in the Circle of Magi."

Neria looked between her teacher and Warden-Commander while Gin thumbed behind him outside the open door. "Not to sound rude, but being constantly eyeballed by Templars does not sound charming."

Hearing that, Irving let out a long, tired sigh; "Believe me when I say, young man, I harbor no love for Templars. But at the same time magic can be dangerous if not controlled and mastered. And some let hate control them to lead down a path into wicked practices. Templars are a necessary means to ensure the less moral bound do not run amok." He paused; "And there are a few Templars that are honorable and decent men and women."

Oh, Brianna would 'strongly' disagree with that, but Neria kept quiet. She turned her sights over to Duncan; "So your recruiting?"

"Yes, but afterward, I must return to Ostagar with Gin and whoever Irving will allow me to recruit."

The First Enchanter rolled his eyes; "And as I stated, Duncan, we have no mages in Kinloch Hold who are truly battle-tested." He cleared his throat, "but we can discuss this later. Neria." The young elf perked up; "Since you passed your Harrowing, you can now get a private quarter." He turned to his desk, picking up a folded, beautiful red and black mage's robe and an exquisitely carved staff with two highly detailed dragons intertwined. Their heads roared at each other's, which held a small orb. "Something I've been planning to give you."

He offered the staff to Neria, who took it with reverence, inspecting the texture and testing the staff's capacity to channel her magic. She found it flowed much easier than any staff she had held before. Not counting the staff she used in the Fade, but that was an unfair comparison as that had been a spiritually crafted item.

"Veridium wrapped in ring velvet," Irving smiled. "Specially enchanted for rapid casting." He looked at her with such pride. "Congratulations, my child. You are a full-fledged mage of the Circle. You will do great things, " he spoke with utmost certainty.

The elven mage couldn't stop the smile from splitting her face, feeling an immense sense of accomplishment and cheer at having come so far. But more importantly, she had lived up to Irving's expectations. She nearly enveloped the older man in a hug, but that would not be proper, particularly in front of other people; she held herself back and instead gave him a grateful nod. It was all she could do as words failed her to convey what she was feeling.

"Now," Irving continued, gesturing to the Warden and his recruit. Could you show our Wardens to the guest rooms? Afterward, you can take the day off; you've earned it."

"Of course, " she nodded, placing the set of robes under her arm as she gripped her staff properly. "Come, I'll guide you." They left the room, following after the elven mage, the bottom of her staff tapping against the floor with each step.

"Well, it was a big day for you, I see." Gin grinned.

"A Harrowing is the most important test for a mage" Duncan spoke knowingly.

Neria looked at him curiously, "You are familiar with our rites, Ser Warden?"

"I've seen enough in my journeys" Was all he said.

When it was clear he would say no more, Neria just let it be. She gave Gin another look over; he looked well enough, she supposed. At least he was well-fed, and his clothes weren't in too bad a state. It seemed like Duncan hadn't given him his armor yet from what she remembered of the Alienage, more than a few elves would look far too thinner than their race should. She had lived a rather comfortable life in the Circle, all things considered; at least food wasn't scarce, and it was decent. It was more than most elves could say. So she was glad Gin was doing well for himself... as far as his current circumstances suggest, she still had no idea what it was that Duncan saved him from, but Gin had very much stated his life had been on the line.

Maker, she had not thought about the Alienage in... A very long time. A big part of it was though she did not want to remember it too much. It always hurt to remember her father; she would torment herself, fearing the worst had happened to him ever since she was taken.

But now there was someone who could actually put her fears at ease... or confirm them. Either way, she needed to know.

"Gin, how... how is my father?"

The male elf rubbed his neck; "I... think he's alright. I'm sorry, Neria, I don't know him very well. He seldom leaves his house."

He saw her ears dip; it's not a bad thing to have hope. But Gin knew better, with his life in the Alienage having taught him well. Still, after reuniting with an old friend, he did wish he had a bit more to tell her. Sadly, only his father went to check on Kailu after Neria was taken away, but he never told Gin how the man was faring.

But the grim expression spoke more than words ever could.

Gin gave Neria credit as he saw her shake off the negativity before speaking, "How are Shianni and Soris?"

At that, the rogue elf snorted; "What do you remember about them?"

"Shianni was bossy, and Soris would jump at the sight of his own shadow."

"Not much has changed then."

Beside them, Duncan lightly overheard while observing mages and Templars who passed them by. Absently, his eyes wandered as he swore he felt eyes watching them closely. Perhaps the Calling was getting to him more than he thought.

In a small dark spot near a pillar, a bat observed him and the two elves quietly.

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

After being brought to the guest quarters, which were simple rooms with modest furnishings, Duncan told Gin he could roam about and speak with Neria if he liked. Gin stood outside of Neria's new mage quarters as she put on her new robes. The city elf glanced at the room beside hers. "These rooms look better than my house back home."

"It's better than the apprentice quarters; you don't even have privacy." The young mage took off her old apprentice robe. She plopped it on her new bed as she beamed at her new robes. Lustrous cotton and Everknit wool? Well, they did have the materials here, but this was not cheap by any means to procure. "Well, Bri should be happy my room is with hers."

"Bri?"

"Brianna Amell, my friend since coming to this place along with a fellow named Jowan. They're humans." Her voice was wary as she put on her new robes.

Gin rolled his eyes; "If you are wondering, I don't hate all shems. Duncan is a good guy, and I know a few back home. I only got problems with bigots and nobles." He paused for a moment. "How do humans in the Circle treat you, by the way? I imagine you all being mages puts you in the same boat."

Neria hummed as she adjusted her sleeves; "Well, it's... complicated. The way I hear it, it varies from Circle to Circle. I haven't really gotten many problems from humans here, baring the occasional teacher who thought I couldn't grasp a subject properly because of the shape of my ears," She grumbled, "But those were rare. And with the Templars... well, I honestly can't tell. Templars, in general, are always suspicious of mages, so if I got nasty looks from one, it could have been because I'm a mage and not because I'm an elf. I'm not too certain."

"At least they don't call you knife-ear."

"There is that." She patted her skirt, straightening out her robes. They fit her figure decently. "The Kirkwall Circle has an elf for its First Enchanter, but from what I hear that's rare to happen. You can imagine how elven mages fare in places like Orlais..."

"Ugh," the city elf grunted, "Orlais... I'm not sure if I dislike them because I'm an elf or because I'm Ferelden." National pride or racial pride? It's hard to choose. Both? He could dislike Orlais both ways, he supposed. "I've seen some of their rich shems from time to time in Denerim; they treat their elven servants like pets to show off."

"Well," Neria said as she stepped out of her room, clad in her new robes. "When life seems too difficult, I guess you can always say, 'At least I don't live in Orlais'"

Gin snorted before he took in the sight of the young elven mage. Now, he was no clothing expert, but he had to admit the blending of a dark blood-red accented black looked quite well. And it fit well to Neria's lithe figure. Plus, with her new staff she held with reverence, the rogue elf gave the nod, "I can say with all honesty you look damn good."

A faint blush dusted Neria's cheeks with a small grin. "W-well. Let me show you around."

"Be honored."

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

No one particularly took notice of a bat that flew into the library and landed on the top of one of many towering bookshelves. All filled with history, spell tomes, and everything a mage would dream of. Granted, it would pale in comparison to places like Mora's realm of Apocrypha. But Serana doubted these mages would be interested in such forbidden arcane.

She made sure not to cause too much noise; there was no reason to prompt one of these mages to use a spell on her to get rid of the annoying flying rodent. So she merely stuck to shadows and came down once she was certain no one was seeing her, her curiosity gaining the better of her.

While multiple labels covered subjects beyond magic, Serana was more interested in the main sections, which classified their main schools of magic; under each section, the titles of the books revealed more information, which made it easier for Serana to paint a larger picture of what each school stood for.

Creation: The art of harnessing nature and conjuring protective and healing energies. Entropy: The school of hexes and curses. Spirit: That which dealt with the soul and the metaphysical. And Primal: the sheer power of elemental forces.

While Serana could see the similarities they bore to the classical Tamriel schools of magic, she suspected she would find more distinctions if she were ever to read the books in depth. Her natural curiosity and interest in magic peeking, the vampire was certain that if Sarya were here, she wouldn't leave until she had read every single last book.

She stayed on one of the shelves as a mage walked too close to her location; a young boy, no older than fifteen, called to a man with a cropped haired older man who bore a sun symbol on his forehead; she said the man was carrying a few items that looked to be magical.

"Excuse me, Owain. Do you know where the book on the practical applications of elemental magic is?"

"Primal Section. The third shelf," The sun-marked man replied.

His voice... there was nothing there. It was just an empty, droning sound bereft of any infliction or emotion. The man's gaze was completely focused and passive as if there was absolutely nothing around him that could be of notice or interest to him- if he could even feel as such anymore.

Serana had heard about this horrible practice, but a part of her hoped it was just an exaggeration.

Tranquil... Now, seeing it for herself, that poor man was dead. Not like her, at least as an undead vampire, she still had her soul. But this man, he no longer had a soul. It was shattered, broken, destroyed in whatever barbaric process that turned people into such abominations.

It would be a mercy to kill him. Better to die than remain an empty shell. But she would hold out her hand, knowing it would likely draw unwanted attention from the mages and templars.

Her blood boiled at this savage atrocity; her lover, along with the kids, would be furious. Sarya the most given her pride as a Telvanni mage. Oh, the girl would burn the Templars to cinders if she could.

"Have you read all these?" the voice of her little thief caught her attention. Her eyes turned to the sight of him and that Neria girl who seemed to be showing the lad around.

Said mage bit back a snort; "Maybe Finn has, but no, I haven't."

"Resident bookworm, I take it."

"Oh, you have no idea," the darker-skinned elf sighed. "There is a line between being a scholar and being obsessed."

"It's not obsession, Neria!" A voice called out from the other side of the shelves right next to them, followed by the sounds of books being arranged and then re-arranged. Behind rows of books, a small opening was made in space, allowing the face of a young-looking mage to be seen, "It's paying proper respect to our library!"

The elven mage rolled her eyes. "The other day, you berated an apprentice for returning a book just fifteen minutes late."

"Society has rules; we can't live in a world of chaos!"

Neria gave Gin a suffering look, "See what I have to put up with?"

"I'd say it's a mage thing. But I guess he's just a special case," The city elf casually replied.

The human behind the books frowned, "I'll have you know that my task is of utmost importance. Each book here needs to be cataloged, properly archived, and preserved. We're talking about centuries of research and-"

Neria rubbed her temple at the incoming headache; not really having the patience to put up with another one of his rants, she expressed, "Finn, someone is about to put a Force magic book in the Primal section."

The other mage let out a horrified gasp as he disappeared behind the rest of the books. "No! That is not where it goes!" Soon, the young man ran off to another section of the library.

Gin only blinked before he shook his head; "Well, that was something."

The two elves conversed before finding a table where Brianna sat, going through several pages of a tome; "Bri!" The young Amell looked up before a smile graced her lips. Neria glanced at Gin; "Gin, this is Brianna Amell. Bri, this is Gin Tabris; I knew him back in the Alienage in Denerim."

At that, Brianna nodded to Gin. "We don't get many guests here. It's a pleasure."

"Well met. Special case, if you count, I'm here with Warden-Commander Duncan."

"Oh, so that rumor was real after all. Grey Wardens are here."

Gin let out a mild grunt; "Technically, I'm a recruit. Duncan's here to see if your First Enchanter will let a mage join us."

Her blue eyes widened in surprise, "Really? That's... interesting. You'd think the mages that were drafted to Ostagar would be enough."

"Duncan still wants a mage in the Wardens."

"I see." Her eyes seemed to gleam at his words.

Neria knew her friend well enough to tell what was going on through her head. "You're not honestly considering it, are you?"

"Considering what?" Brianna played the innocent. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The elven mage bit back a sigh, knowing full well of her friend's desire to leave the Circle one day. Indeed, many shared Brianna's ambition to one day be recruited into the Wardens to escape life in the Circle. To Neria, that was no life at all. What did it matter leaving the oversight of the Chantry if you were to spend your whole life fighting monsters?

Gin shrugged, "Do you have any experience in fighting?"

The human flipped a lock of hair over her shoulder, looking rather proud of herself. "Top of my class in offensive spells."

"Impressive, " the city elf said. "Now, how much actual combat experience do you have?"

"Um, I fought a demon... Once"

Amell blushed at the dry stare coming from the Warden-to-be before she cleared her throat. "At any rate, I know how to fight."

Gin was starting to understand why the First Enchanters had obvious misgivings. From what he'd seen, none of these mages, Neria included, had really any combat sense. And it did not matter how good you were; an untested blade was a huge gamble to rely on.

"Knowing how to fight is not the same as being in a fight." The naughty elf had been in a few scraps in Denerim. Granted, fighting Darkspawn was a very different contrast from fighting people. But the principle was the same overall. "Besides Ostagar, I'll likely be down in the Deep Roads with the Dwarves fighting Darkspawn. And they don't get breaks against them like us."

Neria was a bit surprised at how serious Gin was speaking about this. Brianna only looked wide-eyed, never breaking eye contact with an elven man who stared back. "And that's what I and whoever else joins us from here will be doing. Fighting those monsters till we die, or they kill us."

Serana liked him.

"Wow, " the human mage muttered. "It sounds like you've resigned to your fate like that."

"It's just how it is." Gin shrugged. "Ain't no changing it."

It was then that another voice interrupted, "Ahh, there you two are," Jowan said as he approached them.

"Gin, this is our friend Jowan," Neria gestured as she introduced the warden recruit. "We've been friends since we were little."

"A pleasure," The city elf cordially said.

"Likewise" His gaze became anxious as he looked at his friends, "There is a... matter I need your help with. Might we talk privately?"

"Oh," Neria blinked, "Is it urgent?"

"Very much so." Neither Brianna nor Neria liked the way he said it.

"I see." She gave Gin an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Gin. We have to cut this short."

"I get it, " he said, nodding in understanding. "I'll go back to Duncan; I'll see you later." He said his goodbyes as he parted and left the three mages to their business.

"So," Brianna prompted as she stared at Jowan, "What's wrong?"

"Not here" The male mage shook his head. "Follow me"

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

The Chantry Chapel is based on the first floor near the Apprentice quarters. It was modestly furnished with several pews, statues, and shelves with all sorts of religious texts. Lay sisters, initiates, and revered mothers tended to dutifully to those who came seeking guidance. A place Brianna had less interest or love for than the Templars. It went without saying she was no Andrestian, given how the Chantry destroyed her family. She could remember her mother's despair and wails as the Templars took her and her four siblings. The memory of her brothers and sister screaming and crying as they split apart and placed into these damn circle towers.

Young Amell hated the Chantry with every fiber of her being.

As they followed Jowan into the chapel, Brianna saw Keili praying near a statue of Andraste. What a fat lot of good and some bloody guidance this place had been for that poor broken girl.

They neared a corner where both ladies saw a woman about their age in chantry robes with neck-length red hair and fair skin, knelt and praying. Amell recognized her while Neria gave a curious tilt of her head. Upon hearing footsteps, the woman turned, showing a pretty face with warm brown eyes and full red lips.

"Jowan," her voice soft as she stood embracing Jowan, who returned it.

Amell noticed Surana looked more confused. She bit back a sigh. Bri loved Neria, but that girl could be so clueless at times. "Am I missing something?" Neria muttered.

Definitely clueless.

"That's Jowan, his little lady friend."

"Oh" Her eyes widened as elven ears perked up. "As in lady friends like us or the other kind."

"The other kind," Brianna said slowly.

"Ahhhh." The elf blinked a couple of times. "Can't say I saw it coming. N-Not that there is anything wrong with Jowan I-it's just-"

"There's no need to say it," the dark-haired woman said, raising her palms. Jowan isn't exactly a smooth talker, and I was sure as hell surprised when I found out."

The human mage in question took that moment to address them with a somewhat irritated tone. "If you're done making fun of me-"

"Never," Brianna cut in quickly.

Jowan pretended he didn't hear that. "This is Lily. We've been together for some time now. I don't need to tell you how many dozens of rules we're breaking."

"Technically, there are just two rules," Neria thought it proper to point out: "'No romantic relationship between members of the Circle and the Chantry,' under the same section that forbids any relationship of that nature when mages are involved. And I imagine Lily's vows to the chantry. Unless you've committed another illicit activity, we don't know of."

The elf got two deadpanning looks and one awkward stare from the Chantry woman.

"S-Sorry." She blushed in embarrassment. "T-This whole situation caught me off-guard, so I'm nervous about keeping this secret now, and you know I ramble when I get nervous and-"

"I can't believe you are Irving's pupil," Brianna droned.

When it came to magic, Neria was the best of the trio. That said, when it came to intimate relations between people, the girl was utterly and completely innocent. Just talking about those topics turned the poor thing scarlet.

Amell sighed with her hands on her hips before gazing back between Jowan and Lily; "So I take it this is not some formal introduction?"

Lily gave a nod; "Indeed, I recently learned about why Jowan has not been taken to his Harrowing." The Chantry initiate darted around them to see if anyone else was close by. Seeing none, she leaned in to whisper, "The First Enchanter and Knight-Commander suspect Jowan of Blood Magic."

Surana's and Amell's respected hearts almost stopped. The sole forbidden school of magic across Thedas for its twisted abuse of power from a mage using their blood to amplify their magic. This also gave you the power to manipulate and control people's minds while also corrupting them and the mage wielding it.

The Chantry was happy enough to show the dangers of such practices through the actions of Tevinter and their magisters, who forced their way into the Fade and the Maker's Kingdom. Thus, the Chantry cursed them and brought about the Darkspawn.

Whether that was actually true or not, Brianna was unsure. But she was certain Blood Magic was a vile practice, and she, along with Neria, knew one thing. "Jowan would never use that." The elven mage said, and Brianna agreed vehemently.

A relieved grin came from the man; "Knew you two would be on my side."

"Why would they suspect you of Blood Magic in the first place?" Brianna asked in bewilderment.

Their friend sighed as he let his shoulder slump forward. "I have no idea. Lately, my spells have been progressing more in potency; maybe they saw that as a sign?"

Amell's face shifted through various stages of anger before she finally managed to control herself. "Are they that desperate to accuse any of us of Blood Magic? The Templars and the Chantry would rather execute us all and be done with it..." She muttered in loathing.

Lily shifted at her words, "Blood Magic is a vile art, but I agree that some of the policies and methods the order has taken when policing mages can be... extreme at times. I'm afraid of what they'll do to Jowan."

"They could make me Tranquil!" The thought alone was enough to send him into hysterics. "I'd forget everything- my friendship with you two, my time with Lily- I'll just be a husk!"

"Calm down, Jowan," Neria said, soothing, "Maybe we can talk to Irving and get it cleared up."

"Bad idea," Brianna countered as she crossed her arms, "He'll demand we tell him where we heard this, and we'd be putting us all at risk."

The elven mage sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Then what are we going to do?"

"...There is only one option," Jowan said, determined: "We'll find my phylactery and destroy it, then Lily and I will flee together."

The sorceresses looked at him, alarmed; "Jowan," The Amell said slowly, "Even if they don't take you in for Blood Magic, they CAN imprison you for trying to escape. You wanna be like Anders; spend half your bloody time trapped in a cell?" Heavens knew where that useless idiot was hiding now; not too long ago, he had escaped (yet again), this time accompanied by that elven mage Adalora.

"They won't if we destroy my phylactery."

"Jowan, the phylacteries are in the basement, which Sentinels guard. Never mind that the basement door is sealed," Neria explained.

But he did not seem to listen; "And for one mage, it would be impossible to get in. But the three of us could."

Both ladies were quiet for several minutes before Amell leaned in; "You are suggesting both me and Neria potentially get ourselves thrown in prison or, worse, made Tranquil just to break your phylactery and escape."

At the very least, both Jowan and Lily expressed guilt: "I'm asking a lot, and I know I'm putting you both at risk. But it's either end up like Owain, thrown in a cell or escape." Jowan's voice was a desperate whisper.

Neria's ears dipped as a sigh escaped Brianna's lips. Both glanced towards each other before turning back to their friend and Lily. "What can we do?" The elf asked quietly.

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

The young Chantry woman peered over the corners. Seeing nobody approaching, she quickly signaled to the others, "It's clear."

Brianna knelt before the locked doors, letting her magic flow through her fingers as she got to work. One good thing she learned from Anders was how to handle locks. Oh, it wasn't through lockpicks or anything of the lick, but the metal had an interesting reaction when electricity touched it.

She inserted a hairpin through the keyhole and channeled smaller arcs of lightning through it, allowing them to discharge at the lock's inner mechanisms.

Apply too much, and the lock melted right off, and then everyone would know someone had broken in. But hit just the right amount and...

Click

Brianna smiled to herself as the door unlocked; standing up, she pushed it open and did an exaggerated curtsy for the others. "After you~"

Jowan and Lily pretty much sprinted right through while Neria gave one last look back to check they weren't being followed. The anxious and conflicted look on her face was plain as day. Brianna couldn't really blame her for feeling like this, and she blamed Jowan for putting them on the spot like this on the day Neria had just passed her harrowing no less. Her elven friend just had a terrible problem with saying no; she always went with what other people decided. Neria didn't know how to live beyond the rules imposed on her since childhood.

Brianna was the opposite; the rules of the Chantry were chains she felt every single day, tugging at her limbs, choking her to the point she couldn't breathe. And whenever she tried to pull free, they tugged at her harder, pulling her like the armored arms of the Templars who ripped her away from her mother's arms.

She had been only a child but remembered every scene of that moment with perfect clarity. The wailing and tearful face of her mother, the cold and hard gauntlets grabbing her arms, the sound her shoes made against the floor as she struggled to break free.

Brianna couldn't see a Templar and not be reminded of what she lost. Her freedom, her family, and her siblings, who by some outstanding coincidence had all been born with magic, were all split and taken to different Circles, never to hear from each other again. She didn't even know if they were alive or not...

It would have been easy to fall into despair like Keili, be a coward like Anders, act like Uldred and his Libertarians, or turn into a Maleficar. But she refused; she would never give the Templars the satisfaction or pleasure of seeing her become a broken shell like so many. She would stay true to herself and the people she held dear.

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

"This place is more like a labyrinth than a bloody basement," Brianna chided as she and the others walked through one of the many long halls.

The basement was huge with multiple rooms, mostly storage for ancient books and tomes. It also contained numerous magical items and staff, but it was hardly well maintained, given the dust and cobwebs all over everything.

The young Amell had taken a book on the Avvar, not so innocently, much to her elven friend's disapproval. It was not long, however, before they encountered suits of armor in the halls, which became alive via magic and attacked them.

The Sentinels were a decent defensive measure at best. The automatons didn't move like a real person would, much less an actually experienced warrior. Their movements were sluggish, too stiff, and mechanical. They only knew how to attack, running headfirst into danger. They were not the dwarves' famed golems that not only possessed incredible brute strength and durability, but knew how to act and reason just as well as any soldier.

To an apprentice, the Sentinels could be a threat. But it so happened that two of the three mages present were no longer apprentices and were regarded as having a very promising future ahead of them due to their mastery of their craft.

Neria conjured a barrier around them, Lily quickly hanging back to avoid the fighting. While Brianna gathered raw telekinetic energies in her hands and thrust them out with a mighty burst that sent the animated armors flying, the various pieces of their gear falling apart as they collided with the floor and walls.

The Amell scoffed; these things were barely a test of her skill. Just another obstacle that made their quest unnecessarily longer than it needed to be. Once more, she felt she was wasting her talents in this place; what was the point of training their magic if they were never to use it?

She should have been out there fighting with Wynne and the others, doing something worthwhile with her life.

If her phylactery were here, she'd actually consider joining Jowan to get away from this accursed prison finally. But it wasn't. Her little leash was in Denerim, and she wouldn't risk the Templars chasing her to the ends of the earth.

But above all else, she couldn't leave Neria alone; Brianna knew full well the elven mage would not leave.

She shook those thoughts away as they entered the main storage room. She could feel the energy coming from various artifacts here, from an assortment of items dedicated to the study of the arcane to even enchanted pieces of gear, weapons, and armor, which the Circle would give to whoever paid enough coin.

"Do you think the Phylacteries are here?" Jowan asked.

"No" The Chantry sister shook her head. "The phylacteries are to be kept in a chamber further in, hidden behind a secret passage of sorts if I'm not wrong."

Beside Neria, who marveled at a large tome of spells, Brianna stared over at the statue of a woman holding a spear. Much like the statues of Andraste, this statue was highly detailed, from the clothing she wore to her facial features. Someone took a great amount of time and effort to make this. But why was it here?

Amell's curiosity was shared as the others joined her, looking at it; "Why is this here?" Jowan spoke up beside his lover.

What came next made all of them jump as an ethereal and feminine voice spoke out of nowhere; "Greetings."

"Sweet Maker, did that statue talk!?" Neria almost yelled beside Brianna, who was equally surprised.

"I am Eleni Zinovia, Consort and advisor of Archon Velerius."

"Archon..." Lily recognized that title as did the others; "of the Tevinter Imperium..."

"Unbelievable," The elven mage muttered, tapping her chin. "Trans-mutated or… had her soul ripped away from her body and put here."

Brianna leaned in, giving the statue a closer look, "Whatever you did must have angered him greatly."

"Stop talking to it!" Lily begged. "It's from Tevinter; it's an evil thing!"

Well, Brianna was starting to think Lily might be a touch too naïve; those were Chantry's words speaking through her mouth. She didn't believe Tevinter was as monstrous as Chantry propaganda painted them as, but neither did she think they were ill founded. Tevinter did enslave nearly all the continent once, and their rule had been very tyrannical. From what she heard, a lot of magisters still kept the same spirit as their predecessors.

"Yes, my gift of prophecy was a boon, my lord's house. Till I spoke of its fall and his death, he punished me by turning me into stone for all times..."

"I'm sorry," Brianna regretfully said, "I wish there were some way to help you."

"Weep not for me, children. Stone they made, and stone I shall be. And so I shall endure until the Golden Dragon returns to light the fires of the gods." With that, the statue fell silent.

The Amell tilted her head quizzically at the now silent statue. "What does that mean?"

"Ambiguous rubbish," Jowan scoffed. "I can do it too; 'the sun grows dark, but lo, here comes the dawn!'" He mockingly articulated the first vaguely poetic words that came to his mind.

"Stop talking to it, please," Lily begged, clearly uncomfortable still with the presence of anything that was even remotely from Tevinter.

"We're wasting time," Neria spoke up, "Look around; there should be something that opens the hidden passage."

And so the four split up, searching through every corner of the room. The elven mage fiddled with a few runes set up on display, but these were inert. Jowan and Lily searched through various books in hopes of finding any clue that would further their objective. Meanwhile, Brianna closely scanned the walls for any magic in them in hopes of finding something that would lead them to the secret chamber. The Amell huffed in frustration, running a hand through her long dark locks before crossing her arms in frustration; they were getting nowhere.

She idly stared at the mabari-like statue in the center of the room; it was strange that it would be placed right there when that talking statue was in a corner. Her eyes frowned in thought; "Isn't it odd that this thing is positioned right here?" She called everyone's attention towards the dog statue.

Neria came closer to inspect it, "I can feel traces of magic, but so I can from everything in this room."

"Wait," Jowan's eyes lit up in recognition, "I read about these things; it's a Tevinter-made mortar! It can fire strong blasts of magic!"

"Why does this place have so many Tevinter artifacts?" Lily muttered in distress.

Brianna looked at where the dog statue was facing, "And it's pointing right to that bookcase," Or more specifically, the wall behind it.

"It's our best bet," Neria said, finding no other option. "Help me get this out of the way," The Amell nodded as both sorceresses carefully moved the bookcase away using a combined display of telekinetic magic.

"So now we should blast this wall," Jowan said, placing his hand on the dog's head.

"Am I the only one who finds it strange that the entrance for the phylactery room needs to be destroyed in order to access it?" Brianna drawled dryly, "I sincerely doubt they designed it that way."

"Most likely not." The dark-skinned elf shrugged, "We obviously haven't found the right way to open it, but we're pressed for time. We might as well get on with it and cover our tracks."

The female human mage rolled her eyes, "Blast away."

And so the statue did, firing a burst of flaming magic so strong it brought down the wall with a loud explosion, sending rubble and dust flying everywhere. They coughed and waved their arms through the cloud of dust. Hopefully, the blast didn't gather any attention from the rest of the Tower. But considering how often explosions from spells could happen, and one didn't even hear them unless they were on the same level, it wasn't likely that would happen.

They stepped through the newly opened arc and reached their true destination. A cold chamber with active ice runes carved on the walls that held multiple bottles storing red liquid. These were the leashes by which the Templars kept the mages in check; their instruments of finding them, much like a hunter would employ hounds, the phylacteries.

"We're here at last!" Jowan cheered in jubilation, "Quickly, let's find which one is mine!"

They walked deeper into the chamber as they inspected the labels of all the mages there. Brianna sighed to herself, feeling the urge to smash everything here, only mustering enough willpower to restrain herself from doing so.

"Maybe your phylactery could be here too, Neria!" The prospect of freedom so close made Jowan keep his spirits high. "You could join us!"

The Surana's eyes widened in disbelief; "What?"

"You too, Brianna!" He continued, "I know yours is in Denerim, but we'll be careful. Three mages together? There's no way the Templars will find us; we can even find the Mages' Collective for help!"

Brianna looked at her elven friend as she struggled to find the words. "I uh, I..."

The prospect of freedom almost rang like a bell within Amell before she shook her head. "It would be far too risky since they still have my phylactery. A Seeker could be sent after me for all I know; I won't risk it."

"And I can't just leave Brianna here alone," Neria said with resolution.

She always thinks of others over herself. Still, Bri felt her heart swell at the heartfelt words spoken. The Amell shook her head; "We just get you out of here, Jowan."

At that, the man's spirits deflated: "It's... not right. You hate this place more than any of us, Bri."

"I know. But I won't risk you or Neria's life for mine."

In the end, their bond as friends mattered most. None of them would ever harm the other. Lily could only admire them for the love these three had for one another. They were truly good people.

After a few minutes of searching, they found their objective. Jowan held the small veil in his hands. "This tiny thing is my leash," He muttered, voice full of heavy emotion. "So small, so fragile." His hand grew slack, and it fell out of his palm and shattered onto the floor. Relief washed over him like a river; "I'm free..."

Lily held his hand lovingly while Neria and Brianna smiled at him. "So, 'free man,'" the human mage said with kind humor in her voice. What's your plan for getting out of the Circle? I don't think walking out the front door will help."

Those words managed to make his smile a touch more stiff and nervous; "I uh... haven't thought that far ahead yet."

Neria felt the urge to facepalm but resisted; Brianna, however, did not. "Of course..."

"I just have to think fast, don't worry." Jowan still kept on his optimism. "Now that my phylactery is gone, it's all going to be okay."

"Whatever happens" Neria gently spoke, "I know you'll be alright. And I hope you two can be happy."

The human male looked deeply touched by their actions, "I can't repay you enough, I-"

"Oh shut up, you're gonna make me all teary-eyed," Brianna cut him off with humor in her voice, as to mask how close she was to crying. "Come here."

The three mages shared a quick but heartfelt embrace. All those years together would be about to come to an end, but at least they took comfort in knowing one of them would start a new better life. If one were to ask Neria and Brianna, it all would have been worth it.

"Now, let's get out of here."

XxX ~ xx ~ XxX

Their mood was light as they made their way out of the basement. Neria and Brianna idled and glanced toward the petrified figure of Eleni Zinovia before traversing through the halls. Luckily, heading back did not take as long now that they knew their way through. Reaching the basement door, they opened it quietly.

Peeking through none saw anyone and made their way out. Going up the stairs to the main floor, their blood froze as they stopped at the sight of a dozen Templars with the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter standing ahead of them. Close by, Duncan stood with Gin, watching as the commotion garnered their attention.

Unknown by any of them, a lone bat stuck to the shadows, observing.

"So what the Revered Mother told us was true." Greagoir's voice is steely and unwavering. They were helping the Blood Mage and the Chantry Initiate." Lily winced, feeling the glares from the helmet-clad Templars.

Neria only looked to the ground as she felt the mournful disappointment coming from her teacher.

Brianna, however, glared in defiance, "And where is your evidence that Jowan is a blood mage!? Though by those savages you call holy knights, it wouldn't matter. Just another mage to be branded and broken as a Tranquil!"

"Mind your tongue, Amell," the knight-commander growled.

"Enough!" Irving raised his voice with authority, looking very disappointed at the mages before them. "Young Jowan, while the speculation of you being a blood mage was only that, speculation, you have committed a grave offense in the face of the Circle's rules. This can't be overlooked."

"N-No! You can't do that!" Jowan shouted in horror; the feeling of victory was now very distant. "They were going to make me Tranquil!"

"They were investigating you for any signs, just like they do all mages." The First Enchanter tried to reason with him. "No action would have been taken unless they had absolute confirmation." The old mage sighed warily. "I know you're not a blood mage, young man; if only you would have come to me, we could have cleared up."

"Don't pretend you care about me!" He shouted, tears of desperation welling in his eyes. "All you do is bow to the Templars' every whim!"

Seeing there was no way to speak to him, the First Enchanter instead turned his gaze to the other two mages with him. "And you two?" Neria's gaze dropped in shame while Brianna met his defiantly. "I expected better of you. Brianna, you were always headstrong. But this? This is the height of folly... And Neria," He shook his head, "I am so disappointed in you."

He might as well have stabbed her in the heart with those words.

"Blood mage or not," Greagoir stepped forward, his tone carrying a sharp steel-like edge along with his fierce gaze. "Apprentice Jowan, you have broken the Circle of Magi's laws and will be punished accordingly. As for you," he cast his glare towards Lily, who cowered. "You shall be properly disciplined." He lifted his hand and signaled his men to approach. Seize them!"

"No!" Jowan cried out, desperation, fear, and anger driving him. He acted on these impulses. "I won't let you take her!"

He took out a knife from his robes. All eyes widened in shock and terror as he stabbed his palm. Neria and Brianna's hearts dropped at the sight.

Magic swirled free in torrents, empowered by pain and passion, fueled by the very essence of his life force.

His blood.

Jowan was a Blood Mage.

"Dispel! Dispel!" Greagoir's command came to let; none of the Templars reacted fast enough as Jowan cast a shockwave of raw power that rendered all the people in front of them unconscious; bodies hit the floor and wall, armors clanking violently as their figures fell one by one. Duncan and Gin were also hit with the blast of magic as they slammed onto the ground unconscious.

Hidden in the shadows, Serana cocked her head. As a Necromancer, blood magic was one of her skills, and she was a master that could rival her mother. But by what she had just seen, the Thedosian form of it was woefully underdeveloped and archaic at best. Either that or the lad was still a novice.

Jowan took heavy breaths as he saw all the Templars and the First Enchanter down and unconscious. Behind him, he did not see the shocked gazes of betrayal from the three women.

Neria's body and mind felt numb, and her legs were weak as she soon fell to her knees. Brianna remained motionless, her mouth slightly agape. Her anger vanished, replaced now with the feeling of shock and betrayal.

Tears rimmed Lily's eyes. "Blood Magic..." Jowan turned to face her. You are a blood mage..." Her voice was broken and full of anguish.

"I... dabbled," the man admitted weakly, "But I'll give it all up for you."

Lily shook her head. "You lied..." Her voice was a whisper, and tears rolled from her cheeks. "A Blood Magic changes people, Jowan, corrupts them, and turns them into monsters."

"I didn't mean to, but we can leave this place now!" His voice rang in desperation as he soon saw Lily shake her head again. He tried getting closer to her, but she cowered away in fear.

"Don't get close to me!" Terror filled her every being; she was no longer looking at Jowan, and all she could see was a Blood Mage.

The male mage's heart shattered at her rejection. His eyes darted to Neria and Brianna, who both looked frozen in time save the tears in their eyes. They all looked at him like he was a monster.

He understood now that he had no place among them anymore.

Jowan ran and didn't look back.

Since he disappeared, it felt like a small eternity- a nightmare they couldn't wake up from.

"He lied..." Neria's tears grew in enthusiasm, and her body soon shook as she broke down. Her cries woke Brianna from her daze, and she soon was beside her elven friend and embraced her. Lily had fallen to her knees as her tears matched those of the elven mage.

Not a moment later, the Warden-Commander, Gin, the Templars, and the First Enchanter stirred.

"He was a Blood Mage..." The Knight-Commander muttered, anger and frustration managing their way into his voice despite the sore state of his body, the sensation washing away as he stood up. "Maker, curse it all. He was a Blood Mage!" His glare snapped at the two mages who were with him. He walked up to them furiously. "And you two helped him destroy his phylactery!"

"He lied to us!" Brianna shouted, hurt by the betrayal, as she held Neria close.

"That doesn't matter; we now have a Blood Mage free in Ferelden! Do you two have any idea what you've done?!"

"Greagoir..." Irving tried to intervene.

"Do not even try to defend them, Irving!" The leader of the Templars snapped. The two began arguing, Irving pleading for the commander to show compassion to the young women while the commander called for them to be taken to The Aeonar immediately.

Walking past the Templars, Gin merely shook his head as he knelt and gazed at Neria in concern; "Are you okay?"

The elven mage sobbed, "He betrayed us. We did it all for him, and he just abandoned us."

Thrown them to the wolves to save his skin. The rage Brianna felt could not be expressed in any tongue of men. To say her heart had been dealt a heavy blow wouldn't do it justice. Jowan was their friend, and he deceived them, he used them, and when things went south, he discarded them just like that, without even an explanation or an apology...

And now they were at the mercy of the Templars. Brianna was no fool; she didn't lie to herself, saying they still had a way out of this. This was the end of the line for them.

At least she'd face it with Neria; it was far more than she could say about Jowan...

"If I may intervene," The Warden-Commander Duncan said, approaching the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter. "I came here for recruits to the Wardens, after all."

Everyone in the room's eyes widened in shock. But no one was more flabbergasted than Amell and Surana. Gin's head rapidly shifted between them and Duncan, and a sigh of relief escaped his lips.

"No..." Irving shook his head angrily, understanding what was about to happen. "No, I won't allow it! These two-!"

Duncan spoke firmly and with finality, "I invoke the Right of Conscription."

Neria and Brianna looked in shock, along with the others. Greagoir, however, seethed: "As Warden-Commander, you can only conscript one mage from a Circle."

"In normal times, yes, but if a Commander is certain a Blight is imminent, he has the authority to conscript more than one," Duncan said with steely finality. "Besides, that was always a tradition, not a hard rule."

"You expect me to believe such rubbish," Greagoir growled as he stood directly in front of Duncan.

The two men only glared, neither yielding, before Irving spoke up: "Once Duncan spoke the rite, our hands became tied, Greagoir. Neria and Brianna are no longer in charge."

"And we're supposed to ignore our laws and let them be rewarded!?" The knight-commander roared.

The first Enchanter shook his head. "It is done." His tone was one of resignation. Greagoir only growled as he glared at Duncan before storming off, his men trailing behind.

Brianna stared at Duncan, her head slightly shaking, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The toil of recent events was nearly enough to make her collapse on her feet. "You saved us. I... thank you."

"Do not thank me yet," The Warden said firmly. "I may have saved you from whatever punishment awaited you, but a Warden's life is not any safer."

"I'm willing to take my chances," The Amell sighed.

"Good," Duncan nodded. "Gather your things; we shall leave the first ray of the morning." The Commander of the Grey took his leave without another word.

Gin and others watched him. The city elf sighed as he did so. "He can be like that, but he's a good guy."

Irving walked up to the young mages, his gaze mournful. "I am sorry it came to be like this," the elder mage said. "I cannot agree with the decisions that led you here, but I can at least say I'm proud you two are such driven and talented mages."

His words felt empty to Brianna, just empty platitudes at this point. She cared not what Irving had to say. The Amell never considered him much of a proper leader for the Circle mages, always delegating with the Templars without achieving much results. But he was a kind man, and no better person could have taught Neria.

This was not what either of them would have chosen. Brianna wanted to get away from the Tower. She had entertained fantasies of joining the Wardens, but not like this; once more, her life was in someone else's hands. Only her duties had changed.

Brianna cast a worried glance at her old friend; the elf looked dead to the world, her face set in a passive yet saddened look. Heavens knew what was going on through her head at the moment; no doubt her memories were stuck on the moment when Jowan betrayed them. Once more, Brianna cursed him; he had taken away Neria's future with his actions.

"Neria," Irving gently spoke, "Never forget you are a mage of this Circle, and you will always be."

To Brianna, that would have been an insult to Neria, an honor.

But the elf seemed beyond caring at this point. "...Thank you for everything," She muttered to her mentor.

Everyone present felt their hearts knotted when they heard how broken Neria's voice sounded. Gin looked over to the Chantry initiate, who slowly got to her feet. Lily's eyes looked as hollow as Neria's, and tears remained.

"First Enchanter," Lily's voice, a horse whispered; "Please tell Knight-Commander Greagoir I'll remain here until I am taken for trial; I should also be inspected for any sign of mind control" Brianna and Neria both were about to speak in protest, but the young girl shook her head with a mournful smile; "Thank you both, but I accept my punishment for this crime committed."

And that was the end of it. No words they could offer would ever convince her. Lily was lost; she didn't know what to believe anymore. For all she knew, perhaps even her feelings for Jowan had been influenced by his foul Blood Magic.

The events that followed were a blur. They couldn't even remember having gone to bed that night. Sleep did not come easily.

Morning soon came as Neria and Brianna both packed what they wanted to take with them. Surana is still numb by yesterday's events. Amell, everything was slowly sinking in for her. Neria and Brianna said their farewells to the few friends they had left in the circle. Amell kept her tongue as Irving and Neria shared a brief hug.

The doors of the Circle had opened as the morning sun rose. It was the first time they would cross those gates without a Templar watching over their shoulders. A new day had dawned for both of them. And they would see it through together...

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