In Peace Vigilance - Chapter 1

I. Keepers of the Keep

Ewan
My name is Ewan Amell, formerly mage of the Circle of Kinloch Hold, Warden Commander of Ferelden and ruler of the Arling of Amaranthine.
Most people know me as the Hero of Ferelden.
Five years ago I saved Thedas from the Blight, and while I was at it I put two kings on the throne, arranged a royal marriage, ended a millenarian curse, gave the Circle independence and found a lover. It may sound like I’m some sort of superhuman, but it was mostly desperation and common sense driving me, while some help from my friends, allies and sheer luck made me succeed. Only those who really know me believe me when I say that, and there’s few of them.
Perhaps it is better this way: people need someone to look up to, a hero, and while it makes me uncomfortable to cover such a role, well... what can you do?

I have lived for the last five years in Vigil’s Keep, and that’s where I was when a letter from Jerrik Dace arrived, asking me for help in a search and rescue mission in the deep roads. While on my way back, I heard some rumours that led me to the Korcari Wilds in search of Morrigan, my old friend and mother of my child. Yes, I have a son, but I’ve never met him: he’s Maker knows where now, but his mother says he’s fine, and I can only hope they are safe and that what she told me is true. Despite it all, I still trust her.
I found her in the Dragonbone Wastes and we had our farewell moment before she went through the Eluvian to a place beyond my reach. Her words and my visit to the Circle Tower had me thinking since I split from Ariane and Finn that I should return to the Keep: she spoke of new threats, changes and upcoming challenges, and I have still loose ends to tie up before I can truly move on. Thanks to her I survived the Blight, but I’m not sure I will be able to survive what’s to come... and if I have to be completely honest, despite having to deal with Harvesters, Varterrals, dwarven ghosts and wild beasts, it felt good to be on the road again. The Keep was starting to feel a little too much like the Circle, and I thought I should follow Anders’ example and go.

As expected, once I arrived at the Keep, Senechal Varel was waiting for me with a billion things to take care of, and since wasn’t in the mood I made a quick excuse and retired to my study to read some letters that arrived while I was away. One of them was from Zevran, he was still hunted by the Crows, despite the fact that he killed the Guildmaster, and he was thinking to hide for some time in Kirkwall... I entertained the idea of joining him, I had friends there and...
Oghren’s voice startled me: “Are you proof reading my letter for little Ewan?” he asked. ‘Little Ewan’ is his son, named after me.
“Not quite. This letter is for big Ewan.”
“Oh, who’s writing to you? The elf?” he glanced briefly at the page while I nodded, “Then I don’t wanna know.”
“No, you really don’t.” I laughed. Zevran can get quite graphic when writing to me, especially when he gets to the “If I was there with you...” part.
“Commander.” Nathaniel’s voice at the door interrupted our banter, “Guess who’s back?”
I turned and saw Anders standing behind Nate. Speak of the demon - no pun intended...
My smile froze as soon as it started forming: Anders looked horrible. He had lost weight, had livid bags under his eyes and looked like he hadn’t shaved in weeks. I hoped he had just a rough trip from Kirkwall, not a rough life in the City of Chains...
“Anders. How did your lecture at the Circle go?” I asked him, using the cover story we had agreed on when he left the Keep. I wanted to keep his abomination status as hidden as possible, for both his and Justice’s sake: we may be Wardens but we’re still mages and the templars in Amaranthine would never allow a possessed mage to live, albeit him being a Justice abomination. My being a mage already exposed me to rumours and suspicion, not counting the endless conspiracies. Nate knew but Oghren didn't: not that I didn’t trust him, but he was a drunkard and he tended to speak a little too freely when his drink count got to the double digits.
“Not bad”, he sighs, “But I thought it was time to return.”
“I thought you said your time with the Wardens was over...” I objected. Actually I had suggested that last time I saw him, not long after he allowed Justice to enter his body. Kristoff’s body was beheaded during the siege of Vigil’s Keep by the Mother’s disciples, but Justice was still floating around it, unable to return to the Fade. A spirit can’t live long in the physical world unless it’s hosted in a body, and Anders volunteered to give him a vessel before it was scattered in the Void. As noble as it sounds, though, Anders was still an abomination, technically, so I sent him away on a mission, to limit the risk of exposure of his condition.
“I thought that too...” he said, “But I missed you guys. And my little friend here.” he added scratching Ser Pounce-A-Lot’s head.
“How are things in the Circle?” I asked. I didn’t mean Kinloch Hold, of course, but the Gallows of Kirkwall.
“Not so bad now that the mages have the right to look after themselves and the templars don’t have to approve every mage’s action and movement...” he answered. “The king’s decree changed many things for Ferelden, I just wish things were the same for the other circles as well.”
I nodded. He wrote to me regularly, I knew Knight Commander Meredith ruled the Gallows - and the city, since the Arishok killed Viscount Dumar - with an iron fist.
“You can’t help but feel the place is like the prison it used to be, right?”
“You have no idea...” he said. “I understand magic is dangerous, but... well, I hope this new course stays this way as long as possible.”
Meaning: he hoped things change soon, before it’s too late. I hoped that too: I had family in Kirkwall.
“You plan to stay here long?” I asked him.
“Maybe... I don’t know.” he sounded doubtful, conflicted... we needed to talk.
“Why do you ask him?” Oghren interjected, “He’s one of us, Sparkle-fingers can stay here as long as he wants.”
“Of course, Oghren, but since I was planning to find a substitute I wanted to know if I could count on his availability.”
“You what?” the three of them exclaimed at unison.
“What do you mean? Are you planning on leaving?” Nathaniel asked.
“For some time.” I sighed.
“You plan to join the elf in his quest against the Crows, don’t you?” Oghren frowned.
“What elf?” Nate asked.
“Don't you know Nathaniel? Our commander's lover is a former Antivan Crow.” Anders laughed.
“You know, usually I find myself too busy to collect gossip around the Keep.” Howe replied.
“You're no fun.”
“Anyway... yes, I plan to go to Antiva to help Zevran.” after I take care of another matter, I thought, “After the expedition in the Deep Roads and my personal quest for Morrigan I think I deserve a vacation, and that would do.”
“Fighting the Crows? Way to go for a vacation, warden.” Oghren chuckled.
“Why do you call him Warden?” Anders wondered, “We’re all Wardens here.”
“Old habits,” the dwarf replied, “I’ve called him such since I was a drunk in Orzammar...”
“Since you were a drunk?” Anders grinned amused.
“Pft, semantics.” the dwarf scoffed.
“And as I will be away for some time”, I continued, “I would like Nathaniel to replace me in the administration of the Arling.”
“What? Why me?” he sounded surprised.
I smiled to him. “Nate, you’re a Howe, Rendon’s son, the banns should trust you more than they would have trusted me. In fact you've been raised to become Arl of Amaranthine, they should appreciate if I put you in charge instead of Oghren... no offence.”
“None taken.” the dwarf grunted, “I take it you plan on taking me with you?”
“Not exactly. I think you'll be an excellent recruiter for the order, and ambassador for the king.”
“What?” he frowned, “A desk job? Diplomacy? You know that’s not my mug of ale.”
“Oghren, you and I have been together since the Blight... you know Alistair and Anora, how Denerim politics works, we put Bhelen on the throne together, you can reason with Eamon and beat Teagan in drinking contests... plus you know the Grey Wardens far better than the others of the Vigil, you were at the gates of Denerim while I slew the Archdemon, in the Deep Roads when we discovered the Anvil of the Void... and you’re a trained warrior of Orzammar, you know the darkspawn almost better than I do. I can’t think of a better man to fill the position.”
The dwarf seemed to ponder my words then he nodded. “I’m your man... If Howe agrees to proofread my letters for Felsi and Ewan.”
“Maker preserve us,” Nate whined “you got your priorities sorted...”
“Thank you guys.” I smiled, “I know I can trust you.”

I was relaxing on the balcony of the Vigil when Anders joined me. The evening was stretching slowly over the plains and the Knotwood Hills and the Feravel Plains. No matter how long I had lived there, I still couldn’t think of the place as “home”. Leaving Amaranthine didn’t make me feel nostalgic or on the verge of a great change... it just felt right. Like it was about damn time I did it.
“Are you sure of this?” Anders asked me.
“Sure of what?” I asked.
“Leaving the Wardens without a two-week notice. You just returned here.”
“So did you.” I observed, “And I take it you plan to return to Kirkwall.”
“Eventually, maybe...” he sighed, “But not any time soon... there’s so much I must think over.”
“I read your report over the incident in the Vimmark...” I started, but cut me off.
“It’s not for what happened in Corypheus’ prison.” he started, “It’s Justice. I feel like he’s taking over, he’s stronger by the day, and I’m not sure I can trust myself any more, not where Meredith is concerned.”
“Meredith or Elthina?” I objected. His letters were filled with snide remarks about the Grand Cleric’s inactivity over the conflicts of the city and how her silent disapproval did nothing to remove Knight Commander Meredith from the position of absolute power she managed to get after the Viscount’s demise. The only person who seemed to have any real influence over the city without being tied to her was the Champion: my cousin Aiden Hawke.
I had found curious of the fact that Anders had met him of all people once he arrived in Kirkwall shortly after the battle of the Dragonbone Wastes. Apparently my cousin had fled from Lothering where he lived with aunt Leandra - my mom’s cousin - and his twin siblings Carver and Bethany. I had met Carver a couple of years before, he had joined the order when he got infected by the Blight during the Tethras expedition in the deep roads, the very expedition that made my cousin Aiden rich enough to be able to get back the Amell estate in Kirkwall’s Hightown. He had to thank Anders for that: not only he gave him the maps to enter the Deep Roads, but had he not been there Carver would have died just like his sister Bethany, who was killed by an Ogre while they were trying to reach Gwaren. I never met Aiden, but both Carver and Anders spoke fondly of him... well, mostly Anders, but I suspect it’s because there’s something between the two of them. Carver harbors some resentment towards his brother, but I believe that’s because he’s a difficult man to be a younger sibling of, living in his shadow. He seemed to hold the same diffidence towards me at first, but I managed to get through his barriers and we became sort of friends, we still write to each other since he returned to Ansburg’s headquarters.
“Both of them.” he finally admitted, “I am confused, Ewan, I can’t understand where my thoughts end and where his begin... I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Scared I might do something... drastic.” he finally admitted.
I sighed. “I understand... but sometimes our duty as Grey Wardens requires us meddle in matters that apparently don’t belong to our jurisdiction. Did you manage to track down the Idol, by the way?”
He shook his head. During the Tethras expedition Aiden and his partner Varric found an Idol made of pure lyrium... red lyrium. Lyrium is usually blue and Anders thought it was worth mentioning in one of his letters, good thing because it turned out the idol drove Varric’s brother nuts and made him try to kill the both of them, along with Anders and Carver. Bartrand sold the idol, and no one knew where it was, unsettling considering it was an artifact capable of influencing a dwarf, who are known for being quite resistant to magic, to the point of madness.
The fact the idol was found in the deep roads, and so exposed to maker knows what form of Blight or Old God’s magic, made the situation even more creepy.
“No clue on that.” he admitted, “But I know Varric is working on it.”
I nodded in acknowledgement.
“So.” he said eventually, “Where do you really plan to go?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You are not going to Antiva: I saw the letter on your desk, and your lover mentioned he was moving to Kirkwall to get the Crows off his tail. You aren’t coming to Kirkwall either, or you would have already told me, so what are your real plans now?”
I sighed. I trusted Anders, we were both mages and we both came from the same Circle, even if we weren’t around in the same cliques during our apprenticeship we both know of each other. He was the great escapist, the reason we weren’t allowed to swim in Lake Calenhad any more, the guy from the Anderfels, while I was the teacher’s pet, the one from the good family, one of the Amell brothers, the ones of the infamous incident of the Alchemy Lab...
Aed. I haven’t thought of my brother in ages... well, half brother, actually: he was the son of our mother Revka’s husband while I was conceived before her wedding and never met my father - I’m told he was a Gallows’ Templar. That’s also the reason we got our mother’s family name, since I was born before she married and she insisted Aeddard and I had the same surname. We were really close when we were little, but as we were growing up we started growing apart as well. He got transferred to Dairsmuid shortly before my Harrowing, and since I was recruited into the Grey Wardens right after, I haven’t had the chance to hear from him in years.
My recruitment was also part of the reason I was leaving.
“I never told you how I was recruited into the Order, did I?”
“Can’t say you have. I know you were at Ostagar...”
“I believe you weren’t in the tower when it happened, but maybe you heard of the incident: I helped a maleficar to escape the circle.”
“Wait... you mean Jowan?” he sounded surprised, but then added “Of course it was you!”
“So you know the story?”
“Of course I do. I actually was in the tower at the time, just caught after my fourth escape attempt, serving in the templar’s laundry... one month washing templar’s trousers, ugh...”
I chuckled and nodded.
“Anyway, they said there was a blood mage who had a relationship with an initiate and persuaded her and a newly harrowed mage to help him destroy his phylactery and escape. When I learned he was Jowan and I didn’t see you around anymore I assumed you were the culprit, but then I forgot about it.”
I sighed: “Yes,’twas me.”
“And here I was thinking I was the first apostate you saved! You have a strange hobby.” he mused.
“It was different with you, Anders, but you may have a point...”
“What do you mean?”
“My experience with Jowan made me see the world and our condition under a different point of view: we’re feared for what we are, not for what we do. Sometimes we can make normal people treat us like any other, make them forget we’re mages, but it never lasts: sooner or later they’ll remember what we are, what we are capable of doing, and when they do they’ll never look at us the same way again.
“Lily, the initiate... the woman who was about to deny her vows and her life for the love of Jowan, do you know what she said when she discovered the truth? ‘I don't know you, blood mage, stay away from me’.”
“So what? Blood Magic is evil...”
“Is it really?” I countered. I knew Anders couldn’t stand blood magic, and Justice was even less inclined to condone it, but blood magic wasn’t the point. “He was the same man she fell in love with. The same person she planned going away with. He didn't summon a demon, he didn't took control of the Templar’s minds, he was trying to save her life by giving up his. Your friend Merril is a blood mage too, would you deny that because she’s a blood mage?”
“You... might have a point.” he admitted after some thinking.
“Jowan and I were... he was like a brother to me, a big experienced brother to look up to when I was in doubt. I had Aed, of course, but I was his big brother. He had me, but I had no one, ‘till him. He was already there when I started my apprenticeship, and used to give me advice and counsel. He was just few months older than me, but he was... that's silly, he was my hero. He always had a good word to comfort me or a good joke to cheer me up, and even while we grew up and I became more skilled than him, in magic, I always sought counsel from him.
“I remember, you two were close... we never really spoke at the tower, but was hard to miss you two, hanging around with that other apprentice... Surana... for some time I thought he was your brother, not Aed.”
I smiled remembering those days. Jowan and I were the troublemakers, sometimes with Aed tagging along, and Eloise used to nag on us because all our ideas of fun were bad ideas... we were always up to something, the terror of the Senior Enchanters... Eloise and Aed were instead the good kids, always well behaved, perhaps to counter our terrible deeds in the eyes of the teachers and Templars. “He was family to me, as much of my own flesh and blood as my brother... Then he betrayed me.”
“I understand.”
“No, it's not...” I sighed, “It wasn’t like that, ‘twas not the Lily thing, or the fact he ran away without an explanation, not even the blood magic thing itself, he... he didn't tell me he was a blood mage. When I asked him straight away he lied to me, so... so easily...
“We were in front of Lily, and I could see he didn’t want her to know, but we had code words we used all the time, he could have told me without letting her understand... He just... didn't trust me.”
“Maybe, he feared you would have report him to Irving or Greagoir...”
“And that hurts me more than anything else. We spent something like... what, fifteen years together, in that... prison? And then he was... he did...” I sighed at loss for words. I couldn’t fully explain to him my feelings for Jowan and the whole situation, I felt like it was coming out wrong...
“Were you in love with him?”
Yeah, definitely wrong.
“I did love him, but as I said was a different kind of love: he really was like a brother. He was... family.”
“You never looked for him?”
“Yes... and no.”
“What do you mean?”
“We did meet again. In Redcliffe.”
I stared into the night remembering our last encounter. After he escaped, he was hired by Teyrn Loghain to poison Arl Eamon, and so he was sent to Redcliffe to Arlessa Isolde. She hired him to tutor her son Connor, to avoid sending him to the Circle of Magi, but the illness of his father drove the kid to panic and he fell for a demon’s trap, unleashing undead horrors over the town.
When we infiltrated the castle after a whole night spent fighting corpses animated by foul magic, we found Jowan in the dungeons, locked in a cage by the Arlessa’s men. He was discovered by the guards and arrested shortly before the whole accident happened. He claimed himself innocent of what was happening, and we still didn’t know of Connor's magical talent and his being possessed. I wasn’t prepared to deal with him.

“So here we are” he said, “What now?”
I looked at him barely containing my rage: “Alistair, Wynne, Zevran... go.”
“What?” Alistair objected.
“Are you sure?” Zevran asked.
Maker, I have no time for this! I thought. “I SAID GO! NOW!” I yelled.
Zevran stared at me flabbergasted: I think that was the first time he saw me losing control, even when he tried to kill me a few days before I managed to keep calm and consider his offer... Alistair looked ready to object further but Wynne knew: she was at Ostagar when the whole thing happened, but she was one of our mentors and heard the story of my recruitment from Irving when she got back. She knew we had a matter to settle. She put her hand on Alistair’s shoulder and simply said “As you wish.”
It was enough for the other two. They went forward, looking for the exit of the dungeons while I stood there, in front of Jowan’s cell, trying to figure out what I was feeling.
“I swear I’m not...” he started, but I cut him off.
“SHUT UP! I once helped you in the name of friendship.” I hissed.
“And I betrayed you... I’m so sorry.” he admitted, “But believe me. Give me a chance to fix it, to do something good in my life!”
“You are a blood mage” I spat out, “how can you do anything good? And even if I believed you... You want to help, then what? What will become of you when all this is over?”
He stared blankly at the bars of the cell: “I don’t know, I’ll probably be executed.” he said. His tone... his lack of tone, of any emotion in his voice did it to me. I grabbed the bars and yanked them growling at him.
“You say it like you don’t care. Like your life isn’t worth shit... what do you really feel Jowan? Do you really not care or are you trying to fool me again? You think that if you save the day they will spare you? Maybe if I speak up for you I can even persuade the Arl to forget that poisoning thing and let you stay and teach his son how to be apostate without turning into an abomination?”
“That’s not...”
“THEY’LL HANG YOU AT THE FIRST POLE THEY CAN FIND JOWAN!” I shouted. “Don’t you care? Don’t you want to live? If you don't, why the fuck did you run away from the Circle leaving me and Lily in deep shit?”
He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t look me in the eye any more.
“If death is what you really want, I say I got here first.” I growled, “If anyone’s, your hide is mine to take!”
He looked at his feet for a second then he straightened up: “I understand... and I accept it. Do what you have to.”
And as he stood there, with his eyes closed, ready to be killed by his best friend I realized I didn’t want to kill him. I didn’t want revenge. I didn’t even want him gone, I just wished the whole thing had never happened, that we were still young and untamed apprentices, doing mischief in the Tower, driving our teachers crazy, living our life like we always had before he learned his name was in line for the Rite of Tranquillity.
His eyes snapped open as a metallic clang echoed in the small space. I had opened his cage door, and even if I couldn’t look at him I know he saw the tears.
“Run.” I said. “I don’t want to see you again.”

“You let him escape?” Anders asked when I was done with my tale.
“I would have really killed him if he didn’t... And I didn’t want him dead, or sent to the Circle to be executed by the templars or made Tranquil or Maker knows what else...”
Anders nodded: “After what Uldred did at Kinlock Hold, all the Circles are afraid something like that may happen to them as well, so the templars are tightening up their grasp. There’s unrest in the Circles: Starkhaven was closed, and Templars are concerned about some rumors over Dairsmuid... not to mention what’s happening in Kirkwall: despite Meredith’s paranoia it is true that blood mages are two bits for a dozen in that city. I told you about what they did to Karl and the Tranquil Solution of ser Alrik - which, oddly enough, was rejected by both Elthina and Meredith... hell, my last escape was caused by one of those Templars who can’t tell a Mabari bitch from a Korcari witch...”
I chuckled at the funny expression but still asked him: “What do you mean by caused? Did he help you run away?”
“He forced me to.” he smiled sadly, “After my sixth attempt at freedom, Irving decided I needed a motivation to stay in the tower, so he put me in charge of some young apprentices. Probably he thought that if I had some responsibilities I wouldn’t have run from them, and he may have even been right... I liked the kids, and I was lecturing them in the Library when it happened... they were smart kids and I was putting the fear of the Maker into them by describing in morbid details how blood magic is performed: I thought that if I could disgust them enough they would never think of doing it... then this Bucket arrives and starts threatening to punish me because I’m talking about blood magic to the apprentices, and blood magic is forbidden and yadda yadda yadda, the usual bigot-blabbering of Templars who get into the middle of conversation and completely miss the point of it...”
“Can’t say it ever happened to me...” I chuckled.
“Well, I was arguing... well not arguing, let’s say explaining myself to him when Ron, one of the kids, decided he had to touch ser Templar’s sword to see if it really kills mages, and cut himself a finger over the blade... now, I don’t want to know how much time that Bucket spent sharpening that sword, but let me tell you the boy didn’t have a paper cut on his finger. I was about to heal him when that Templar went ballistic: he started crying ‘Blood magic!’ and tried to slaughter us.”
“WHAT?” I was stunned. “You’re shitting me!”
“I wish I was.” he sighed, “I had to freeze him and then I ran away. I had records, and attacking a Templar, albeit in self-defence, wouldn’t have looked good to Irving or Gregoir...”
“And trying to explain the situation to them wasn’t an option?”
“With my records? What would you have done in my place?” he said frowning.
“Well, I guess I did the same with Jowan...” I admitted.
“See? And you know the funniest thing? Afterwards he got transferred to Kirkwall and -wait, it gets better- promoted to Knight-Captain.”
“What?”
“I know right. Odd enough, I’m sure I met the guy before... when he was a rookie. I spent a whole night talking to him because he was scared to fail his duty in the Harrowing he was chosen for. It was his first Harrowing and he was afraid of messing it up by killing the mage without reason or failing to kill an abomination... when I explained him how it worked it calmed down but it took me all night. It was about the same time you got recruited, even. He seemed sympathetic with the mage’s condition, he even went as far as saying ‘The chantry is too hard on you people, after all you didn’t choose to be what you are’...”
That story ringed too familiar to my ears. “That Templar’s name... the Knight-Captain...”
“Everyone calls him Cullen, Cullen Ruth-something I believe, why?”
I took a long breath and shook my head: “No wonder he went nuts at the sight of blood. That must have been a Fade of a deja-vu... He’s a survivor of the Uldred riots.”
His brows shot up: “You know him?”
“I sure do, it was my Harrowing he was supposed to supervise. When I rescued him in the tower he was the only sane templar we found in the higher tower, all the others were dead or enthralled... I guess this means he didn’t get out of it without scars...”
“Great, and now he’s the second in command of Meredith.” he shook his head. “So long for your plan of removing her from her position, right?”
I sighed. The mission I sent him to Kirkwall for in the first place was to investigate the rumors over her and create an outpost for the increasing interest of the Grey Wardens in the area. Stroud, in Val Chevin, was the closest contact to the Free Marches I had before Carver joined the order, but I needed someone closer to the city, if not in the city itself. Anders was way too eager to fill the position, especially since his friend, mentor and former lover Karl got transferred to the Gallows just around the end of the Blight and his recruitment into the Wardens.
“I don’t know, Anders... I know the man, and I still think he’d be a better guide than Meredith for the Templars there... Her increasing paranoia has me concerned, and her refusal to give over the ruling of the city has reached outside the Marches... even Al-I mean King Alistair is worried about her and the situation of the city...”
“Mah, easy guess!” He scoffed, “Anyone would be better than her.” he laughed.
I sighed: “What if I’m making things worse, though? Last time our order dabbled into politics, we ended up exiled from Ferelden... I can’t help to think I’m no better than Sophia Dryden...”
“Hey!” he put a hand on my shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze, “I’m the abomination here. And you’re doing the right thing. Maybe after you do what you have to you can join me in Kirkwall and see for yourself... speaking of which, you’re still avoiding my question: what does Jowan have to do with anything and where do you plan on going when you’re not going to Antiva and looking for Zevran?”
I nodded: I hadn’t answered that question yet: “I thought about it. I never had the chance to settle things with him. He owes me an explanation and I owe him a farewell. I need some closure: as a warden I started a new life, but I never really tied the loose ends of the old one...”
He nodded in agreement: “I can relate. Do you have any idea on his whereabouts?”
“I saw him one last time after Redcliffe, during my travels. He was helping some refugees in the Brecilian forest, near the Drakon’s Gorge on the Southron Hills... it’s a start.”
Anders hugged me sideways and smiled: “And I say go for it. If anyone deserves something, it’s you Ewan. You ended a Blight, for crying out loud, it’s time to get a little selfish and do something personal that doesn’t involve darkspawn, crazy golems or bloody witches! Well, so to speak.”
I laughed: “I certainly hope not, Anders... Jowan may be bloody but he doesn’t qualify as a witch: his boobies are too small and he doesn’t have the legs for the outfit...”
We stayed there, laughing as the Moon rose from behind the Aralt Ridge in the distance. It was a beautiful place, and now just as peaceful as the Lake Calenhad I remember from my youth, when Jowan, Aed, Eloise and I used to watch it outside the windows of the library at night, when we were supposed to be in bed and we snuck out instead to see the stars.
“Thank you Anders.” I said, “You are a true friend.