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

Entry tags:

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

"Well, the burning part is the important bit. Our dead are burnt like Andraste was. Plus, there's the idea that this way they can't become walking corpses should a malificar stroll through."

Approaching the house, Anders took a moment to mentally prepare himself, before stepping into the charred remains. There were no animal corpses, thank the Maker, but it looked like none of their possessions had survived.

He looked down at the bodies. They'd clung to each other in their final moments, accepting death.

"Maker watch over you both. May you find peace."

With a flick of his hand, the bodies were lit anew.

"It's almost ironic. The Templars wear the symbol to represent the sword of mercy that was used to kill Andraste as she burnt, but they know nothing of mercy themselves. And what they do consider a mercy is worse than death for many mages."

As they entered the charred remains of the house, Altair just barely resisted kicking the body of the Templar who had died just outside it. The temptation was there as the Templar had been nothing and no one deserving honor in life or in death, but it was a bit juvenile even for him. So he resisted.

Instead staying close to Anders, so he could provide comfort in proximity at least.

His head tilted down at the sound of flames- a silent prayer of his own, and the wish for them to find peace. The place felt a bit lighter already- not entirely. But still. Just a little. Enough to be able to hope that the feeling of pain and fear would fade away eventually.

"I think I'll revise my earlier statement and say that the only good Templar and the only merciful Templar is a dead one. I don't want to imagine the cruelty necessary to do something like this and still consider oneself a decent sort."

Maybe he'd kick that Templar's corpse on the way out.

"Is leaving flowers for the dead something commonly done here? I think I'd like to leave some here for these two."

That would mean going out to pick some and coming back, but Altair was willing to take the time.

"The good ones are the ones who wake up and leave the Order." Anders watched the bodies burn, using magic to make it hotter so they would burn faster. "The king of Ferelden is a former Templar turned Grey Warden. He used to travel with the Warden-Commander during the Blight, before he was crowned. He said that the man was a Templar initiate before the Wardens recruited him, and he never wanted to be a Templar in the first place."

That was a good Templar in Anders's mind. One who saw the Order for what it was and took the first opportunity to get out. The Grey Wardens actually did fight evil in the name of protecting Thedas.

"Yes, Fereldens leave flowers for the deceased. I think they deserve it."

"That would count as a good one too, yes," Altair agreed, with a slight nod of the head. Choosing something different or dead, then. The only two possibilities for a good Templar. He could live with that, since it meant that it was unlikely that they'd ever kill a good one, since a good one would no longer act as the true believers did, Altair imagined.

"Were there any flowers near here?"

That was difficult to tell with just the Force as his guide. He could tell when there were obstacles in his way, but telling the difference between grass and flowers when just passing through an area was a bit beyond even him.

"That's the thing, isn't it? They can choose to be Templars, and they can choose to leave. But I can't choose to not be a mage." Not unless he were made Tranquil.

"There were flowers just to the east of here. I can show you where the patch is once I'm finished with this." He didn't want to risk the fire spreading.

"It is," Altair said, remaining close, despite being bad with high temperatures. Magical fire apparently burned hotter than the regular kind, or was perhaps made to burn hotter in this case. There was perhaps a bit of discomfort in his body language, though not so much that it was concerning.

Even if he was very uncomfortable he would still have stayed. He didn't like leaving the side of those he cared for in situations like these.

"They could wake up one day and say that they no longer want to be cruel, that they never want to lay a hand on a mage ever again, and yet..."

Well, it was difficult to tell what went on in the mind of a Templar. Not because it was terribly complex, but because Altair had never liked seeing the world in black and white. It was a too simple and too cruel way to see the world. He didn't want to think about what was necessary to look at a mage and not see a person with fears and hopes and dreams the same as any other living being.

"I'd rather not try to understand what goes on inside the minds of the true believers I suppose. I'm no stranger to killing, but what the Templars are doing is too sadistic and too systematic to describe in as simple a term as murder."

"The Chantry preaches that because we mages have such awesome power at our fingertips, then the situation is about even. We're dangerous, they say, and thus we're on equal footing with the Templars. We can light villages on fire, and thus we need to be kept under lock and key, for the protection of all."

He watched the bodies burn. It wouldn't be long now before they were both ash.

Glancing at Altair, he noted the discomfort in his body language. "You don't have to stand here."

"Fuck the Chantry," Altair said, with enough bitterness in his voice that suggested that there were a lot more words he'd like to say, "And fuck the Templars. Anyone with a working moral compass can tell that this is wrong."

That was what Altair wanted to believe, anyway.

"And I'm fine. I struggle a little around higher temperatures, but it's nothing I can't endure for a short while."

Which Anders had perhaps noticed already, given that Altair tended to stay a bit further away from the fire whenever they set up camp.

"What sort of friend would I be if I left you to do this all alone just over a bit of discomfort?"

"Someone from my Warden days once pointed out how ironic it is, that Andraste rebelled against a tyrannical empire, only for her followers to start one themselves." He wanted to believe that Andraste wouldn't want this, that she wouldn't have wanted her followers to use her words to enslave others. But perhaps she wanted this all along, and was just as bad as those she inspired.

It wasn't much longer before the bodies were nothing but ash and the fire died down. Putting a hand on Altair's shoulder, Anders steered him in the direction of the field.

"The flowers are this way."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A Sith & A Mage & Hijinks...

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject