boxofmisfits | A Sith & A Mage & Hijinks...

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A Sith & A Mage & Hijinks...

It had been a week now since that day they had decided to start traveling together.

It had been nice- traveling alongside someone else, having stories shared with him and even sharing some very heavily edited ones of his own given that edited stories were all he could offer without sounding completely off in the head. It had also been difficult given that Altair had to be very careful to not let even a slip of skin show. Wandering off on his own during times Anders was otherwise occupied to clean himself or to eat or drink.

Still, Altair preferred it to traveling alone- even if he had found a lot of ghosts along the way to talk to. Having a friend among the living was nice too.

As they traveled on this particular day, the light was quickly being replaced with the darkness of night.

Some old and unused path through a forest, that had once been a well-traveled road if the old rock fence he was currently keeping his balance on as he walked along the top of it rather than on the path through the trees was anything to go by- maybe the place had been settled some time ago. Maybe people had lived out here. It seemed likely, all things considered. Maybe they'd find something neat if they kept walking in this direction.

Who knew.

He wasn't so focused on that at the moment though, instead keeping his head tilted back so his face was turned up to the sky- knowing that the stars would be starting to come out soon.

"Do you ever wonder if there's life out there?" He asked his companion, breaking the comfortable silence they'd been traveling in for a little while.

It was a question that had been on his mind, all things considered.

Maybe there was a similar Empire to his own out there. Maybe a Galactic Republic or something like it. Or perhaps all the worlds out there were like this one- still so early in their development.

Altair wondered if this planet had even gotten to the part of history where they were wondering or theorizing about whether or not there was life out in space too. Maybe he was sounding completely insane to Anders by asking.

But then, a lot of things Altair had said and done since they first met probably seemed completely insane, so it really was business as usual.

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Traveling together with a companion truly was the way to go, Altair thought. He liked it. Liked Anders- and yet liking Anders was starting to make him feel bad too. He still flirted, of course. Acted much the same as he had all along. Didn't show that he felt guilty for not being totally open and honest with him. But still. It was most certainly there.

On days like these when they were traveling it was easy to push it out of his mind though. Though he did not know what Orlais was like, Altair was nonetheless curious in the way that he was about most new places. How different things were there compared to here. And he'd certainly traveled places before on less than promising rumors.

The sense that something was wrong hit him before Anders spoke- shown in the tensing of his body language, and the way he lifted his head.

"I think we should, yes. Something doesn't feel right."

Not in the sense that it was something that should be avoided, but in that they needed to figure out of what was going on and help if they could. He picked up the pace- hurrying in the direction of the smoke.

Anders kept up with Altair. Amazing how the other man didn't fall behind with those short legs of his. The closer they got, the stronger the smell of smoke became, and the more Anders got a feeling of dread. Like the smoke was the embodiment of the bad feeling he had in the pit of his stomach.

When they finally reached the source, Anders froze.

It was the smoldering remains of a small house. Judging from the damage and the smoke, it had happened recently.

Despite feeling like he wasn't going to like what he saw, he investigated further. Right outside the door was a corpse in Templar armor. There was a scorch mark on the chestplate, as if from a lightning bolt. The armor was slightly burnt from being near the edge of the fire.

Stepping up to the house, Anders looked in. Inside were two bodies, too burnt to tell who they may have been. But he saw the remains of a partly melted metal mage staff.

Stumbling backwards, Anders whispered through a tight throat, "The Templars trapped them inside and burnt the house down."

Did the mage live here? Was the other body their relative, friend or spouse? Or did the owner just agree to let them stay the night out of kindness? Either way, the Templars deemed associating with a mage to be a crime worthy of death.

But, it also looked like the mage had taken down at least one Templar first.

Edited 2022-07-12 07:18 (UTC)

Burnt wood, burnt flesh. It was an unpleasant scent. The feeling of desperation that the pair had felt in their last moments lingered too. The Templar didn't matter- Altair had never sensed anything but cruelty in any of them- but the mage and whoever their companion had been. What a cruel death they had been put through, trapped inside of a burning building, unable to find a way to escape.

Were there still Templars nearby? Probably. This was recent enough to still be smoldering, after all. Whoever had done this were likely still close by.

He stepped closer to Anders, guard up just in case this would turn into an ambush, but reaching to put a hand on his arm with intent to comfort nonetheless.

"Anders?" His tone was soft, intended as comfort, as assurance, "What do you want to do? I think we should give them a proper burial, but..."

Going after the Templars who had murdered them was near the top of his list too, but his first concern was what Anders wanted since they currently had the liberty to choose their next course of action given that they hadn't been attacked yet.

Anders buried his face in his hands, unable to look at the sight. How many others had the Templars done this to? How many others had they killed just for being mages? It didn't matter to them if a mage never hurt anybody and just wanted to live in peace. Death was the price you paid when you were born with magic.

The Templars were just taking their views to the logical extreme. This was what they did. They hunted and hurt innocent mages. All in the name of protecting Thedas and carrying out the Maker's will.

Looking at Altair with hard eyes, anger surged through him. Not just his anger, but the anger of the being he shared his body with. His eyes flashed blue for just a moment.

"We need to find the ones who did this. Before they destroy any other lives."

Sorrow. Anger. Not just Anders's anger, but someone else's- the spirit's?- too. Altair understood it, and he nodded his head. They could bury the victims once the people responsible had become food for the scavengers.

"Alright."

No arguing, nor attempting to soothe that justified anger away like some people might have done. Just understanding that this was what needed to happen. The people who had done this, the Templars, they needed to die. Before they hurt any other innocents.

"They can't have gone far, so let's go."

Anders looked around for clues. The Templars were likely to use the roads, since their armor didn't make for good travel through bushes and trees. Lucky him, it had rained recently and softened the ground, thus the Templars had left some footprints.

"This way." Trusting Altair to follow, Anders headed down the road in fast, long strides. He wished Nathaniel were here, since he'd been taught how to hunt and track in his youth.

It took them about twenty minutes before Anders spotted grey armor off to the side of the road. The Templars had stopped to catch their breath.

Filled with righteous anger, Anders allowed Justice to come to the forefront. Rushing headfirst at the group of Templars, Justice unleashed a wave of ice magic, freezing some of the Templars as he caught them off guard. The others drew their swords and advanced on him, yelling out "abomination!"

Altair followed with ease- keeping up at a pace that left him just about at Anders's side, perhaps only a few steps behind.

The emotions he could sense from his companion were, so far as Altair was concerned, completely justified. The swell of righteous anger as they came upon the Templars and the shift in how Anders felt told him that Anders's spirit friend was likely at the forefront now- not that Altair let that trip him up since Anders had told him about it so it didn't really come as as much of a surprise that it otherwise might have.

Instead he rushed into the battle himself as well, dodging a slash from a sword and pulling a hidden knife out from within his outfit, jabbing it up into the gap between helmet and chest piece and into the Templar's throat, pulling it back and moving out of the way as the Templar collapsed to the ground, immediately moving to handle another who had diverted his attention to him.

Altair did keep his attention partway on his companion, of course- ready to jump in if he needed help.

Justice threw lightning at the nearest Templar, where it chained off of them and onto their fellow knights. One of them ran at him with a sword, but Justice slugged her with surprising strength, snapping her neck and killing her before she hit the ground.

It wasn't long before all the Templars were dead.

Taking a more relaxed stance, Justice faded back into Anders, who leaned against the nearest tree, emotionally exhausted.

Altair finished off the Templars focused on him with relative ease- they couldn't exactly be called coordinated after all- and took a breath once their foes were all dead on the ground. His clothing had a few cuts here and there since his focus had been a bit divided, but nothing he couldn't fix with a needle and some thread. And at least it hadn't been cut in a way that exposed any skin.

More importantly though, he headed over to Anders, obviously worried.

"Anders? Are you alright?"

There was no wariness, despite the fact that even a blind man would be able to tell that Anders's and his spirit friend's part of the battle had been carnage, just concern for Anders's well-being.

"And your spirit friend, too? It sounded like the fight was one that took a lot out of both of you."

Anders gave Altair a sad smile. "We're fine. Physically, anyway."

He looked at the dead Templars, and at the tears in Altair's outfit. It was such a pretty outfit too, not like his apostate rags. He didn't seem to be hurt, though.

"It's just that... seeing these Templars, seeing what they did... it makes me angry. Makes both of us angry. But sometimes I'm not sure if it's just a general sense of injustice that makes me angry, or if it's the memories of my own time in the Circle, or both, that gets me."

"It would make anyone with sense angry," Altair said, though it did seem this world had very little sense at times. There were people who saw it for what it was though. Saw the horror in it. The injustice. And got angry over it. That was definitely the correct response, if one asked Altair.

"And I don't think it's a bad thing if it's one or the other or both. I get angry about slavery all the time, but I can't always tell if I'm angry because slavery is objectively wrong or because I remember what it was like, being one of them. Sometimes feelings are just... Connected like that. You could probably spend an eternity trying to figure out where one ends and the other begins."

He shrugged a shoulder, "That's how I feel, anyway."

He'd stopped worrying so much about where his anger came from, because he was working on making things better. Righting wrongs was more important than wondering where his anger came from, really. At least to him.

Maybe it was different for Anders, but. Altair did understand where he was coming from, he thought. And if he didn't, then he wanted to, since Anders was his friend and he wanted to do what he could to support him.

"You saw this injustice and you made sure that these Templars would never do that to another innocent person again. Both of you did. For what it's worth, I think that's a good thing."

"I suppose you're right. It's just that, for the longest time, I'd convinced myself that my anger had corrupted Justice, turned him into a demon. Perhaps that was just my insecurities, and that little voice telling me that I was wrong, that my anger was unjustified."

Not wanting to be around the dead Templars anymore, Anders left the woods and went back onto the road, back towards the burnt house. The people there deserved a proper burial.

"I'm going to have to go with insecurities," Altair said, tone still sincere, but slightly brighter, suggesting that his intention was to try and comfort him- and cheer him up a little, in whatever way he could, "Because your anger is completely justified."

Altair followed along as Anders moved to leave, this time keeping up with him so that he was walking beside him rather than a few steps behind. The less hurried pace helped.

He also reached to gently brush his hand briefly against Anders's- a gentle offer of physical comfort too as they made their way back, should he need it. Or even just want it.

"Where were you back when I lived in Kirkwall?" Altair would have fit right in with Hawke's merry band of misfits. He wondered what sort of nickname Varric would have given him.

At the feel of fingers on his own, Anders looked down briefly, before accepting the touch, holding Altair's hand with his own. His fingers felt almost delicate beneath the gloves.

"You're probably wondering what was up with the glowing back there."

Altair shrugged a shoulder slightly at the question, both because it was one he knew didn't need an answer, but also because he'd rather not get into the fact that he was probably trying to avoid death in another world entirely at that time. Mentioning his reckless and accident-prone nature was probably also better left for a less vulnerable moment in time.

"Oh, I can't actually see anything," Altair said, though he knew that the way he navigated definitely suggested that he could. And in a way that was true- the Force was his guide even here. But that would take explanations. Inexplicable ability to navigate without sight was better, at least for now.

Glowing, though. Altair did wish that he could have seen that, rather than just sense the shift. Perhaps in the future he would.

"It's related to Justice, I assume? They called you-" He hesitated, not really wanting to repeat it, "That word I don't like. So I can only assume you looked different?"

"Right, sorry, sometimes it's easy to forget."

What with how easily he got around, and seemed to see even better than Anders did. At least he knew Anders meant no offense.

"You might have heard my voice deepen, at any rate. But yes, that was Justice. I start glowing when he takes over. He's touchy when it comes to Templars, to put it mildly."

"No need to apologize. I realize that I navigate the world in a way that makes it seem like I can indeed see."

And he could, both with his eyes and with the Force, but. Long and complicated explanations, again. He would tell the truth eventually. He wanted to do it soon, but he really was nervous about it.

"I did," Along with sensing the shift, though he said nothing of the sort, "And I see. He sounds like my kind of spirit then. I've become rather touchy about them, too. At this point I'm starting to believe that the only good Templar is a dead one, honestly."

"You're a man after Justice's own heart." There had been one or two Templars who he might have counted as good back in Kirkwall, but the presence of one or two good ones didn't make up for the Templars as a whole being rotten to the core. The vast majority of them still believed that mages were a blight upon the world, and at best they believed that mages needed to be imprisoned for the good of everyone.

"We share thoughts too, and so he has my memories of Templar abuse, as a witness and a victim. It hasn't exactly endeared the Templars in his mind." Yet Anders still had it better than most mages back at Kinlock Hold.

"Technically 'abomination' is supposed to only refer to mages who get possessed by demons, and the demon completely takes over their body to the point where the mage is just gone. But, more often than not, it just gets used as a general term for any mage who's possessed, since it's not as if the Chantry makes a distinction."

Edited 2022-07-18 07:30 (UTC)

"Glad to hear it."

He listened then, as Anders explained. That Justice too had gotten to experience being witness to and victim of Templar cruelty through sharing thoughts and memories with Anders. Altair hadn't felt Templar cruelty personally- not in the way Anders and Justice had. He'd seen what the Templars did. He'd gotten attacked more times than he cared to count because many of them thought him a mage.

But that wasn't the same thing. He couldn't imagine what Anders had gone through. Nor Justice when he came to have the memories and the experience.

Altair had been a slave, of course, so he understood in one way. But not completely. Not in the same way. And the ghosts who had been with him, and the one ghost who still was had never experienced what Altair himself had through him. So he couldn't truly understand what it had been like for Justice, either.

"You've been through a lot. He has, too."

He gave his hand a gentle squeeze for comfort and reassurance- this time it was just as much for Justice as for Anders himself, even if he didn't indicate it.

"So they just call you something you're not because they refuse to even try to overcome their own ignorance? They just... React without a thought in their head? I mean, I'm not surprised, it's just... I've lived so much of my life having to curb my questions and my curiosity and the Chantry and the Templars... They're free to question everything. I don't understand why they choose reactionary fear and why they're so caught up in the past that they don't even try to strive for something better. For the future. They're free to choose to learn, but they refuse."

Plenty of Sith were like that too. Plenty of Jedi as well. Altair didn't understand that either.

"I apologize if I'm not making an awful lot of sense. It's just... I can't understand. How they can wake up every morning and choose to do what they do, say what they say, and still think they're in the right. How can they do what they did to innocent people or call another living being an abomination and still think they're good?"

A pause, then.

"The next time someone throws that word at you by the way, please just let me beat them to death with my bare hands. That means Justice too. I promise you both that I hit much harder than I look like I would even without my weapons."

That was a joke. Sort of.

"I won't stop you if you do," Anders squeezed his hand back. He could feel strength in that hand, despite what his skinniness would leave others to believe.

"Sadly, the Templars just don't think to ask questions. They think they know everything and that asking questions will only interfere with their divine duties. The Chantry prefers recruits who are faithful to the Chantry to a fault, and who won't ask questions. Because they don't want anyone who might sympathize."

Sometimes you had recruits who only joined out of desperation, or because they'd been given to the Chantry as children. But more often than not, they ended up believing in what the Templar Order stood for.

"Idiotic. To have the freedom to think for themselves and then choose not to. I can't understand it."

He fell quiet after speaking. The slight tilt of his head suggesting that he was thinking about something.

Altair hadn't asked questions back when he'd been young either, after he'd become a Sith apprentice. But he had been a teenager, and one only just stumbling out of slavery. He could probably be forgiven for his folly because inexperience could make an idiot out of anyone, but the Templars? Not a chance.

He wished there was more he could do for the mages.

For now, he supposed, he'd keep his attention on the one mage he was traveling with to keep him safe.

"... You would tell me if there's more I can do for you while we're traveling together? If there's anything you need... Be it comfort after something like this or anything else. You don't have to think on it too hard right now, of course, just... If there is anything."

He moved his hand slightly- a slight shift in position that suggested that he was inviting him to lace their fingers together. It was, to Altair, a slightly more intimate way to hold hands. Though he wouldn't be upset if Anders would prefer to keep holding hands the way they had been, either.

As a Sith, Altair formed attachments rather quick. But he knew that that wasn't the norm for others. And the shift had been so careful because he knew emotions were probably still running high and he didn't want to add to that.

Anders accepted the invitation, lacing their fingers together. He suddenly wished that there wasn't a glove between them. "You're kind to offer. Just don't say that I didn't warn you if I talk your ear off."

They were getting closer to the burnt down house, though the smoke had begun to thin by now.

"Justice also thinks that you're alright. You've shown yourself to be a true ally, and someone who understands justice."

"You have a nice voice. I like listening to you. So I think my ears will be just fine," Altair said, his tone light and gentle. He did mean it, too- he wanted to offer what help he could and he quite liked hearing Anders's voice.

"And I'm glad he thinks I'm alright- though I'd have to disagree with him. I still have much to learn about the nature of justice and I want to be a better ally tomorrow than I am today."

Altair did his best and would continue to do so. But it was ever a work in progress both to understand and to be an ally.

"It's something to work on, after all, not something I inherently am."

"You say that, and yet you can clearly tell that mages deserve justice, and that the Templars are wrong. Far too many out there are content to pretend that nothing's wrong, or claim that the mages had it just fine."

He paused before the remains of the house, the smell of smoke still in the air. The people deserved a proper funeral, or as close as they could do one in the current circumstances.

"Normally, when sending off a person, they're dressed in white and a prayer is said, before the bodies are burnt to ash. I'm not exactly brushed up on my prayers, but, I can still cremate them."

"Far too many people are idiotic, then. Still. I don't ever want to become one of those people who only talk without actually doing anything about the injustices they witness."

Altair let go of Anders's hand once they reached the remains of the house. He could still feel the terror the victims of the Templars had felt in their last moments, heat and smoke and ash and suffocating. He hoped that they could give them some peace by sending them off properly. He hoped they wouldn't have to stay here, lost in that pain forever. He knew how terrible a fate that was.

"I'd offer to say a prayer of my own people, but I don't think that'd be very helpful. Our faith is quite different from what people here believe."

He tilted his head toward Anders and then toward the remains of the house as though looking between them, "Just let me know what you need me to do to help."

Anders was the one who could cremate them- with magic, Altair assumed- but he wanted to help however he could too.

A Sith & A Mage & Hijinks...

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