Chapter 2: Augmentum Probabilis
Celestine Amell walked through the halls of the tower; she had been here for years and still felt like an outsider. Maybe it will be better when I finally finish my apprenticeship, she often thought to herself, but only the First Enchanter knew when that would happen. Nobody was ever forewarned of their Harrowing – the trial every mage had to pass to be fully accepted into the Circle of Magi.
The stories of what one had to do during your Harrowing were rampant among the apprentices; some said you had to fight other apprentices, others said you had to fight a Templar or a senior mage and there were some that said you had to fight monsters, abominations, demons; by now Celestine would not be surprised if the Harrowing required you to dance naked under the moonlight like the wilder witches were said to do.
She walked into the girls' dormitory and headed over to her bed. The room was one massive section near the base of the circular tower where all the female residents of the Circle stayed until they passed their Harrowing. There were rows and rows of bunk beds under the high arched roof; each apprentice had a cupboard in which to store what few personal effects they were allowed to keep, but other than that there was little privacy, not to mention the routine Templar inspections to make sure that there were no dangerous magical artifacts outside the controlled environments.
Celestine heard that the Templars themselves lived very spartan lives, but at least they had the opportunity to choose to do so or not; mages were afforded no such luxury. Torn away from their families as soon as their potential was discovered or the Templars caught up with them – and they were deemed safe to be allowed to study in the Circle – mages were practically prisoners, in a very gilded cage yes, but prisoners nonetheless.
The young girl thought back to when she had been taken by the Templars and the last time she had seen her parents. They had lived in Jader only a short time before her so called 'gift' manifested itself; before that she had vague memories of a large city that seemed to be carved out of the mountains that surrounded it. Of her parents themselves she remembered less and less each year, except her mother's face. She would never forget that, the loving eyes, soft hair, warm smile and the single tear that ran down her face as she told her that everything would be fine as the Templars took her. Her father only left an impression of being the large, stern protecting shadow in the background.
She sometimes envied the ones that only came to the Circle later in their lives, they had at least experienced something of the life that the outside world offered, but they had also sacrificed more; they would ever resent this place more than she did. But even they managed to form relationships with the other apprentices, she on the other hand never could. She could feel the eyes of the others following her whenever she entered a room, hear the buzzing whispering.
"That's her."
"The one who killed all those people?"
"Yes, they say the only one to survive was the Knight-Commander himself."
"The Knight-Commander had to be sent to bring her in?!"
"They say she killed over a dozen people!"
"Yeah, and half of them couldn't be recognised afterwards."
"I'm happy I'm not in any of her classes."
"I do Ancient Cultures in the same group as her; she has to stay right in the back where the Templar overseer is."
"Why did they even let her into the Circle?!"
"She should be made Tranquil."
"I bet she practices blood magic."
"I hear she needs special lessons to make sure she doesn't get possessed."
"No way!"
"It's true; I've seen the Templars escort her out of the dormitories after hours."
"I'm happy my bunk is on the other side of the room."
Either the gossipers were never aware of how far sound actually carried in the Circle's cavernous halls, or they did not care. But the end result was always the same; no one would associate with her. Even the Templars, who were aloof to begin with, let her feel that she was under a particularly close scrutiny and in the end maybe they were all justified in their fears, since the event that started them did take place. How the rumours had made it here she didn't know, since only she and the Knight-Commander had been there to experience what had happened and he did not seem the type to spread such things, as befitting of his rank. All she knew is that they chased away all potential friends before she had a chance to try and make them.
"Hey Tina, you there?!"
Well, maybe not all, Celestine thought to herself slightly amused. "Yeah, I'll be right there, lemme just get my boots on."
Once she had finished tying up the laces, she headed out of the dormitory to see another apprentice leaning against the wall of the hallway. "Why you always insist on wearing those things when we head outside I'll never know."
"Hello to you too Jowan," she said, poking him in the ribs as she walked past.
"Hey, hey! Don't do that!" He ran to catch up to her, "and could you walk a little slower; you'd think you were one of the Templars the way you march about - it's that new recruit, right? Carrol? Callow? Something...I've seen you eyeing him."
Jowan was the picture of a mage stereotype: tall, skinny, neck-length black hair and had a slightly nasally voice that if you listened to for too long would annoy you no end. But he was willing to associate with Celestine, so she put up with it, and behind it all he seemed like a decent guy.
"I've told you before, we live in Ferelden; you can only wear those Orlesian-style things indoors. Outside though, the mud will make short work of them! ...his name's Cullen, and it's not what you think."
"And here I thought girls were supposed to be all for pretty Orlesian things...and pretty Templars too, I suppose. It's the armour, isn't it? I should get me some of that."
Celestine decided not to respond to that, rolling her eyes, they were almost outside. They were allowed to go outside during breaks between lessons and she was sure going to make use of that. Living inside all the time like some dwarf in its underground city was not to her tastes.
~o~
Erik tried to wipe the sweat from his eyes with his gauntleted hand, panting slightly. He barely had an opportunity to brace himself, when his opponent flung herself at him again. They whirled around one another in a deadly dance. Or at least it would have been deadly had they not been using blunted weapons.
He was wearing full splint-mail armour and wielding a sword and shield. His opponent was dressed in tight-fitting leather armour and wielding two daggers. She had speed and manoeuvrability, but he had power and reach. They circled each other warily, their fight having thrown dust from the floor of the parade grounds into clouds that stuck to their sweating bodies. The squires in charge of cleaning armours would have a full afternoon today, he thought.
His opponent, noticing even this smallest of distractions, lashed out; she flowed forwards, blade in her right swinging at him from below. Erik moved his shield to block it, but then it wasn't there anymore. The other dagger caught on his sword and it seemed as though his opponent almost used it to swing around him. Suddenly she was behind, pressed against his back, one dagger held to his throat, the other at his gut.
He groaned and dropped his sword and shield on the ground in submission.
His opponent giggled, and twirled around him, sheathing her daggers as she went. "Beat you again, brother!"
Elisa took off the leather cap that protected her head and tossed it onto his shield. Erik also took off his helmet and dropped it to the floor. "Well, as long as it's only you and not Rory anymore."
"Hey!" The ginger-haired squire was standing on the side of the area they had been practicing in.
Elisa merely laughed again and hugged her brother. She detached herself from him and - dropping her dagger harness - ran off towards the door leading out of the courtyard. "As the victor I claim first bathing rights!"
"Oi, that's not fair! You take far too long!" Erik shouted after her.
He barely heard her response, "Victor!"
The losing twin sighed and leaned down to pick up the dropped gear. The squire that had been watching them sidled over. "Well I suppose this proves it. Your sister will probably be the best fighter in Highever by the time she comes of age."
"Yeah, mother taught her all those sneaky rogue tricks. No way a clunky knight can beat either of them…but I plan to keep practicing until I can at least hold my own against her, you never know when that might prove useful. Now help me carry these things!"
Rory moved in to pick up Elisa's dropped gear and the two boys headed towards the castle armoury. Just as they rounded a corner they heard the rapid staccato of a dog's claws on the cobbled floor. "Oh no," Erik groaned.
Then he was thrown to the floor as a young Mabari hound landed on him, "Alright, alright, I get it, stoooop! Gilmore save me!"
The squire had to laugh as he watched the young noble's antics at his dog's affections. Alfonse, the Mabari, had imprinted itself on Erik the previous year when the newest litters were born in the castle kennel. Mabari were a species of dogs that had an uncanny intellect due to a mage's breeding several ages ago. They were highly prized in Ferelden, it was said to have a pure-bred mabari imprint itself on you was the highest honour, a sign of true nobility of character.
Erik finally managed to push the hound off him, and wiped his arm with his sleeve. "That's what I get for forgetting to get you your treat today, I suppose."
Alfonse barked happily.
"Okay, just let me pack away these weapons and we'll see if Nan has anything for you." Eric responded, scratching the hound between the ears affectionately. "Just try not to make a habit of that…jumping thing; soon you'll be big enough to squash me if you do it!"
Alfonse whined in response to this, but trotted – seemingly content – after the two boys, as soon as Erik had picked up his weapons again, occasionally interjecting a conversational bark to the discussion the two were having while they headed towards the armoury.
~o~
Sorana looked at her father's back again as she followed him along the animal trail into the forest. Bethany was sitting on his shoulders as he wandered and Carver was following behind, if maybe at a bit of a distance, getting distracted by all the insects making their home in the underbrush and loam.
This had become a daily routine for them; Mother stayed at home to prepare supper and they would then head off into the wilderness until they reached a small clearing. Here Malcolm would train Sorana in the arcane arts as her younger siblings played off to the side. Some days he would train her to cast spells outright, other days it would be simple meditations and self-control exercises. He had also begun to teach Carver the basics of martial arts and Sorana took it upon herself to partake in these lessons, not only to support her brother and father, but because even at her tender age she knew that it was the prudent thing to do – to know how to fight without magic.
The afternoon sun was pleasantly warm and birds chirped in the leafy foliage as they trained. Malcolm had carved a simple staff from one of the trees and presented it to his eldest, he had cut one for himself and began to show her the motions used to cast and other routines that could be used for close combat should the need arise. This carried on for several hours until the sun was starting to set and he motioned that it was best that they head back before dark; that was when they noticed that Carver was missing.
"Rana, please take your sister back home." Malcolm said curtly, scanning the treeline for any traces of his son.
The girl nodded, picking up on her father's body language - now was not the time to second-guess him. It was the same stance he took whenever they heard that Templars were nearby, or actively looking for them.
Bethany, oblivious to the circumstances asked loudly, "But what about Carver?"
Sorana gently hushed her as she lifted her youngest sibling onto her back, "Carver will come back with father and come home later."
"But I want to go home with Da!"
"Not now Beth, Father can take you next time." Sorona said as she started off into the forest at a brisk walk.
As she walked along the animal trail she kept a careful eye out for any traces of her brother, but by the time they reached the eaves of the woods she still hadn't found a trace of him. She walked over to the house and opened the door, depositing Bethany inside. "Now, be a good girl and help Mom with supper. I'll be right back with Father and Carver."
Closing the door, she turned and ran back into the forest, the rapidly descending sun enlarging its shadows with every passing moment. She found the animal trail again and followed it back to the clearing. Malcolm was no longer there.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone