“Are you alright?”
Kitranna blinked her eyes open. Everything around her was dim and quiet, and blessedly solid.
“Say something, please!”
She was lying on her bed in the dormitories. Slowly, she pulled herself onto her elbows.
“Jowan...?” she croaked. Her mouth felt dry as paper.
“Oh, thank the Maker!” he exclaimed, and kneeled down by her bedside.
Jowan was a human, about the same age as Kitranna. He had a heavy face and long dark hair that tended to hang in his eyes.
“I'm glad you're alright,” he told her as she sat up. “They carried you in this morning. I didn't even realize you'd been gone all night!” he put a hand on her shoulder. He was shaking.
She patted his hand. “I'm fine,” she said, her throat still dry.
“It's just—you remember everyone who doesn't come back from the Harrowings,” he said, biting his lip.
“Well, I came back,” she said. “And I'm fine, I promise.” she got to her feet. On a nearby desk there was a jug of water, and she took a swig straight out of it.
“Kitranna!” Jowan exclaimed with a wince.
“What?”
“You don't even know who's drunk out of that!”
“Who cares?”
He sighed. “You're the same as ever...” he muttered, then grabbed onto her sleeve. “What was it like?” he asked. “The Harrowing? Was it dangerous? How hard was it?”
She bit the inside of her cheek, and tugged her sleeve out of his hold. “Jowan...”
“I know I'm not supposed to know, but—please, just a hint? Just a hint, and I'll stop asking!”
She rubbed a hand over her head. “You have to go into the Fade,” she told him.
“Really? That's it?”
“You said you'd stop asking.”
“Fine, fine, sorry...” he looked at the ground, then back at her. “Are you sure you're alright?”
She smiled. “Positive.”
“Well...I suppose now you get to move to the Mage's quarters upstairs,” he folded his arms. “I'm stuck here and I don't know when they'll get me for my Harrowing...”
“I'm sure it'll be soon,” she assured him. “You've been here longer than me, they can't wait much longer.”
“That's just it!” he exclaimed. “I've been here for longer—what if they don't want to test me? What if they make me Tranquil?”
“They wouldn't do that,” she said, taking one of his hands and squeezing tightly. “They wouldn't.”
He looked away from her. “But—you know they do it to apprentices they think are too dangerous, or too stupid...”
“You're not stupid,” she told him. “And you're definitely not dangerous—they wouldn't do it, it's just...there's a lot of apprentices in our year, that's all.”
He shook his head. “I shouldn't even be worrying you with this...” he said.
“You're my friend,” she told him. “It's not a worry at all. Well—it is, a little bit. But don't feel bad about telling me--”
He pulled away from her. “I was supposed to tell you to go see Irving as soon as you woke up,” he said. “I'll see you later, alright? You shouldn't keep him waiting.”
She gave his hand one last squeeze and they parted. First Enchanter Irving's office was on one of the floors above the Apprentice's dormitories, and Kitranna had only been there a few times before. Most apprentices were called there when they got into trouble, which Kitranna liked to avoid.
She walked through the dormitories, passing by other apprentices who muttered to each other when they saw her. It wasn't anything malicious, she knew—she had done the same thing when she saw other mages who'd only just passed their Harrowings.
“Are you alright?” an apprentice stopped her to ask. She tall human girl who was a year or so younger than Kitranna. Another girl stood behind the apprentice, her arms folded.
“What, are you best friends now or something?” the other girl asked.
“I'm just curious!” the first apprentice said, then turned back to Kitranna. “One of the Templars, that blonde one, Cullen, said it was a quick, clean Harrowing--”
“I just woke up,” Kitranna said. “I'm fine, though. You know I can't tell you anything else about it...”
The other girl took the first girl's arm. “Come on,” she said. “I'm sure she has to see the First Enchanter or something.”
Kitranna left the dormitories and went through the library to go upstairs, to the mages' quarters. She passed several mages having lessons and skirted someone who was making a rather explosive mistake.
Upstairs, she passed through the stockroom and the Tranquil who tended it, and past the mages' quarters where she was to move. One of the Templars, a young, blond human named Cullen, watched her as she passed and she ducked her head so she could hide her face.
Cullen watched her a lot. Some of the other apprentices thought he was in love with her, but she didn't like the idea of that much. She didn't like Templars as a rule, but for some reason the idea of Cullen particularly having some kind of feelings for her was unnerving, and she couldn't really put her finger on why.
She hurried past him, to go to Irving's office, which was already occupied. The Knight-Commander was there, as well as an unfamiliar human Kitranna didn't know.
“We've already sent more than enough mages to Ostagar,” said Knight-Commander Gregoire. He was still wearing his plate, but had discarded his sword somewhere. “Wynne, Uldred, most of the Senior Enchanters--”
“If the darkspawn threat is as great as it seems, we need to send as many as we can spare,” Irving was saying.
“We have already committed enough of our own to the war effort--”
“Our own?” Irving snorted. “Since when have you felt such kinship with mages, Gregoire? Or are you simply afraid to let the mages out from under Chantry supervision, where we might use our Maker-given powers?”
“How dare you suggest--”
“Gentlemen, please,” said the unfamiliar man. He was dark, like Kitranna, and dressed in armor with no insignia on it. “First Enchanter, I believe someone is here to see you.” he gestured towards Kitranna, who hovered in the doorway.
“...hello,” Kitranna said.
Irving managed a smile and turned to her. “Ah, if it isn't our new sister in the Circle,” he said. “Come, child.”
Kitranna eyed Gregoire and stepped closer.
Duncan stepped forward. “Is this...?”
Irving nodded. “Yes, this is she.”
Kitranna looked between the two of them.
“Well Irving,” Gregoire said, sneering. “You're obviously busy, so we will discuss this later.”
“Of course,” Irving's lip curled and his eyes were hard as he stared at Gregoire's back as the Templar left the room. “Where was I...? Ah, yes. Surana, this is Duncan, of the Gray Wardens.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kitranna said.
“You've heard about the war brewing in the south, I expect?” Irving asked.
Kitranna rubbed her thumb over her forefinger. “Not much,” she said, her brow furrowing. “Just some things about darkspawn...First Enchanter, what is this about?”
“Duncan is recruiting mages to join the army at Ostagar,” Irving explained.
“It's bad enough we need an army?” Kitranna glanced at Duncan. “I know some of the senior enchanters went, but...”
“The darkspawn are invading,” Duncan said, his tone dark. “We need all the help we can get, especially from the Circle.”
“Is there going to be a Blight?” she'd read about Blights before. There had only been four, but they had all been terrible, ravaging the various lands they had erupted from.
“Possibly,” Duncan said. “I fear that if we do not drive them back there will be.”
“Duncan, you worry the lass with this talk of darkspawn and Blights,” Irving admonished. “This is meant to be a happy day for her.”
“We live in troubled times, my friend.”
“We should seize moments of levity, especially in troubled times,” Irving said.
“But, First Enchanter--” Kitranna protested.
“The Harrowing is behind you,” Irving said. “Take comfort in that, at least. Your phylactery has been sent to Denerim. You are now officially a mage of the Circle.”
Duncan's eyes darkened at the mention of phylacteries, and he folded his arms, but otherwise did not say anything.
Irving retrieved a bundle of cloth from the top of his desk, as well as a mages' staff that had been leaning against it. “I present you with your Enchanter's robes, your staff, and a ring bearing the Circle's insignia. Bear them proudly, for you have earned them.”
“Thank you, First Enchanter,” Kitranna said, accepting the gifts. She tucked the robes under one arm and placed the ring in one of her pockets. She held the staff loosely in one hand, not having anywhere else to put it.
“It goes without saying that you shall not discuss the Harrowing with those who have not undergone the Rite,” Irving said. “Now then—Duncan, I believe you wanted to speak with her?”
“I did,” Duncan said. “Walk with me, please,” he told Surana.
“Alright,” Kitranna said slowly. “I need to take these things to my new quarters, anyway.”
They left the First Enchanter's office.
“Do you know Warden—well, Enchanter, I suppose, Fiona?” Duncan asked her.
Kitranna frowned. “I don't think so...”
“Ah, well, she was an Enchanter with Montsimmard Circle.”
“Was?”
“She is a Warden now—technically speaking. Her case is...unique.”
“Why do you bring her up?”
“She is an elf, like yourself, and a mage of great skill. I had thought that perhaps the other Enchanters would make note of her, but I suppose not.” he frowned.
Kitranna shrugged. “People try to focus on their own work,” she said. “Keep their heads down, you know. Keep safe.”
“Fiona has expressed a similar sentiment.” Duncan sighed. “Fiona, as well as many of the other mages recruited into the Wardens, has said that the Wardens provide them a freedom they could not find in the Circle.”
Kitranna looked up at him. Although she was very tall for an elf, he was still several inches taller than her. “The First Enchanter said you were recruiting. Do you want to recruit me?”
Duncan hummed. “I am unsure. If you wish, you could almost certainly join the king's army to go to Ostagar, but the Gray Wardens themselves need numbers as well. However, you have only just passed your Harrowing—you are still very young.”
Kitranna shrugged. “Maybe I could join the army. I don't know. I'd have to ask the First Enchanter. I could be a Warden, I suppose. I don't really know.”
They stopped outside the guest quarters. “I will be here for at least several more days,” he told her. “If you wish to join either the army or the Wardens, come to me, and I will see what I can do.”
“I will,” she told him, and left him.
She almost ran straight into Jowan, who was hurrying up the hall.
“Jowan!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you done talking to Irving?” he asked. “I'm glad I caught up with you!”
“Yeah, I'm done for now—what is it?”
“I've been looking for you for ages!” he told her. “I need to talk to you—not here. Somewhere safe.”
She took his sleeve. “Jowan, what's the matter?” she asked.
“Not here,” he hissed. “Just—come with me.”
“Alright—I still need to put these away, though,” she said, holding out her new robes.
“Alright, alright, but hurry!”
She dropped off the robes in her new quarters, but hung on to the staff, just in case. Jowan dragged her to an isolated corner of the chapel, to meet with a redheaded girl in laysister robes. Kitranna had seen the Sister around a few times at services, but never spoken to her.
Most of the Chantry personnel didn't speak with the mages, although there were always Sisters and laysisters in the Tower on a semi-regular basis.
Kitranna crossed her arms and eyed the redhead. “Alright, Jowan,” she said, looking at her friend. “What's going on?”
“Remember when I told you about the girl I met?” he asked, then reached out and took the redhead's hand. “This is her. This is Lily.”
Kitranna looked at both of them in silence for a long minute. “Jowan...” Kitranna sighed and put her face in her hands.
“What?” Jowan said, affronted.
“This is a terrible, terrible idea,” she hissed. “You--” she pointed at Lily. “You should know better! Both of you should!”
“I haven't taken my vows yet,” Lily said. “I know, I know it's dangerous, but--”
“Dangerous, nothing! You could get Jowan killed!”
“Kitranna--” Jowan started.
“You know what the Templars would do if they thought—if they thought a mage had—had hurt a Sister, you know what would happen--”
“Kitranna!” Jowan hissed.
“What?”
“It's too late to be worrying about that now,” Jowan said. “They're going to make me Tranquil anyway!”
Kitranna froze. “They're going to what?” she gasped. “No—no, they can't—how do you know? Are you sure?”
“I saw the document on Gregoire's table,” Lily said, grabbing Jowan's hand and squeezing. “Irving had already signed it.”
Kitranna felt the blood drain out of her face. She began to pace. “It's fine, it's fine,” she muttered. “We'll—we'll fix it, we can go to Irving, and--”
“We can't do that,” Jowan said. “Irving already signed it—they won't undo it now!”
“You have to run,” Kitranna rounded on them. “Is that the plan? Are you going to escape?”
“Yes,” Jowan said. “Will you help us?”
“Of course!” she said. “Of course I will!”
“My phylactery is still here—if we find it and destroy it, Lily and I can escape!”
Kitranna ran a hand through her hair and nodded. “Yeah, yes, alright—they keep the phylacteries down in the dungeon, don't they?”
“I can get us into the repository,” Lily said. “But there's a problem—there are two locks on the chamber door, and the two keys belong to the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter.”
“There's got to be some other way to get in,” Kitranna said, chewing on her thumbnail.
“I saw a rod of fire melt through a lock once,” Jowan said. “Perhaps we could get one from the storeroom?”
“Yes, yeah, we could do that,” Kitranna said, seizing upon the idea immediately. “I'll get one—I'm an enchanter now, I can ask for things from the storeroom.”
The plan was that Kitranna would go to the stockroom, ask for the rod, then bring it back to Lily and Jowan so they could use it. The plan ran into a snag when Kitranna discovered that she needed a senior enchanter's signature to get the rod, but she managed, with the help of a convenient infestation of spiders.
Finally, the three of them stood in front of the door known as the Victim's Door, the entrance to the dungeons of the Tower.
The door was enormous, and, as Lily explained, built with two hundred and seventy seven planks, one for each original Templar.
“It is a reminder of the danger all those cursed with magic pose,” Lily said.
Both Jowan and Kitranna looked at her, but didn't comment.
“How do we get past it?” Kitranna asked. She peered at the door—she could feel some kind of warding spell on it, but she couldn't identify what the spell was.
“I have the password from the Chantry,” Lily said. “And one of you needs to cast a spell on it after I use the password.” she turned to the door. “'Sword of the Maker, tears of the Fade,” she looked over her shoulder. “Now one of you.”
Kitranna threw a simple arcane bolt at the door, unlocking it and letting them inside. Then they came to the second door, a much smaller and less impressive one than the first.
“This is it,” Jowan said. “Quick, use the rod on it, melt the locks off!”
Kitranna held up the fire rod, and attempted to use it, but unfortunately, it didn't work.
“What's the matter?” Lily asked, leaning over Jowan's shoulder. “Why isn't it working?”
“There's wards all over this thing,” Jowan said. “I can't cast any spells—there must be a ward against magic!”
Lily sucked a breath in through her teeth. “No wonder the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter use ordinary keys—magical keys don't work!” she covered her face with her hands. “That's it then—we're finished, we can't get in!”
“I'm not giving up yet,” Kitranna looked down the hall. “Come on, there might be another way around.”
“What if there isn't?” Jowan said. He'd gone pale, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“Then we'll figure something else out,” she said. “We don't have any other choices, do we?”
“No,” Jowan said. “No, we don't. I'll take any chance I can get.” he and Lily took each others' hands as the three of them continued down further into the dungeons.
The dungeons were dank, dark, and twisting, filled with strange storerooms and old cells.
Jowan and Lily drew closer together as they passed by the cells. “They took me here when I first came to the tower,” Jowan said.
“Me, too,” Kitranna said, gripping her staff tighter.
“That's awful!” Lily said.
Both Jowan and Kitranna looked at her. “Didn't you know?” Jowan said. “I thought for sure you knew—they always take new mages into the dungeons before they do anything else.”
“Even if they're children?” Lily said.
“Yes, even if they're children.”
Lily shuddered and closed her eyes, clinging close to Jowan. “This is too harsh, even for a mage,” she said.
Kitranna bit the inside of her cheek, and gave Jowan a sidelong glance, but didn't comment.
They ran into living statues and deepstalkers, and even a spider or two. The place was an absolute death trap. Finally, they came to a peculiar room which housed a large collection of magical artifacts.
On one side of the room, there was a marked weakness in the wall.
“Look, that wall's about to come down at any moment,” Jowan pointed out. “Do you think it might lead into the phylactery repository? It feels like we've gone round in circles...”
“It couldn't hurt to try,” Kitranna said with a shrug. She, Lily and Jowan shoved the bookcase in front of the wall out of the way, and began looking around for something to knock down the wall with.
A peculiar statue in the corner caught Kitranna's eye. It gave off a strong magical aura, the Fade around it warped and twisted, and she and Jowan both approached it.
“There's something odd about this statue...” Jowan said. Lily came up behind them, not getting too close.
“Wonder what it is?” Kitranna said.
Greetings, a voice came from the statue.
All three of them jumped.
“Maker's breath, did it just say something?” Jowan exclaimed.
I am the essence and spirit of Eleni Zinovia, the statue said. The voice was quiet and smooth, almost a whisper. Once consort and advisor to Archon Valarius. Prophecy, my crime. Turned to stone for foretelling the fall of my lord's house.
“Who was Archon Valerius?” Kitranna asked, glancing at Jowan.
“I'm not sure,” Jowan said. “The Archons are the lords of the Imperium, aren't they? But I've never heard of a Valerius.”
Forever shall you stand on the threshold of my proud fortress, he said, and tell your lies to all who pass. The statue sighed. But my lord found death at the hands of his enemies, and his once proud fortress crumbled to dust, as I foretold.
“Don't listen to it,” Lily said, grabbing tight onto Jowan's sleeve. “This is a wicked thing—born of evil Tevinter arts!”
Kitranna ignored her. “I wonder how she got here?” she said. “Is she still alive?”
Weep not for me, child of the old blood, the statue said. Stone they made me, stone I am. Eternal and unfeeling. And I shall endure.
“Old blood?” Kitranna frowned and leaned forward. “What does that mean?”
“Ambiguous rubbish,” Jowan said. “It could mean anything, I can do it too. 'The sun grows dark, but lo, here comes the dawn!'”
“But in the Fade, the spirits--”
“Stop talking to it, both of you!” Lily urged. “We need to go, anyway!”
They turned away from the statue.
You are right though, child, said the statue, her voice even quieter now. The dawn will come. The sun is already upon the horizon.
“What?” Kitranna and Jowan both turned, but Lily took both of their arms now.
“Come on,” Lily insisted. “We need to go.”
They knocked the wall down using a large, solid, and probably priceless artifact, and to their great relief found themselves in the repository. It was absolutely freezing inside, the walls coated in a thin sheen of ice. Runes for frost and cold were scrawled on the walls and even the floor.
“We're here,” Kitranna said. “Now—Jowan, find your phylactery, and quickly!”
The phylacteries were different vials of all shapes and sizes, all labeled with different names. Some were very old, and Kitranna thought she recognized one or two names of mages who were dead or Tranquil.
They found the phylactery, helpfully labeled with Jowan's name.
“So fragile...” Jowan said, picking the little bottle up and turning it over in his hands. “I can't believe it—it's so small...”
“Hurry up, break it,” Kitranna said. She looked around and folded her arms. “It's too bad mine's not here,” she muttered. “They sent it to Denerim already. I could have come with you...”
Jowan patted her shoulder. He held out the phylactery, and dropped it on the ground, where it smashed into thousands of pieces. Lily let out a breath of relief.
“Come on,” she said. “Now we need to get out of here!” she looped her arm in Jowan's, and they started towards the door. From this side of the door, it opened easily, and they hurried out.
“How are you going to get out of the Tower?” Kitranna asked. “There's still the Templars—are you going to fight your way out?”
Lily and Jowan looked at each other as the three of them trod up the steps.
“We were going to--” Jowan began as they exited the dungeons, but he stopped.
Five Templars, plus Gregoire and Irving, stood at the mouth of the dungeons, the Templars in full armor.
“So what you said was true, Irving,” Gregoire growled.
“Gregoire...” Lily breathed, and both she and Jowan stepped back.
“An initiate conspiring with a blood mage,” Gregoire shook his head. “I'm disappointed, Lily.”
“He's not a blood mage!” Lily exclaimed, grabbing Jowan's hand.
Gregoire ignored her outburst. “She seems shocked, but fully in control of her own mind,” he commented to the other Templars. “Not a thrall of the maleficar, then. You are right, Irving—the initiate betrayed the Chantry, and they will not let this go unpunished.”
The blood drained out of both Lily and Jowan's faces, and they moved back more, almost tripping over the dungeon stairs.
“And this one,” Gregoire turned a disgusted gaze to Kitranna, whose hands shook as she met his gaze. “Newly a mage, and already flouting the rules of the Circle.”
“I--” Kitranna began, but Jowan stepped in front of her.
“It's not her fault!” He exclaimed. “This was my idea!”
“Jowan, no--” Kitranna said, grabbing his arm.
“Enough,” Gregoire raised his hands. “As Knight-Commander of the Templars here assembled, I sentence this blood mage to death.” he looked at Lily. “This initiate has scorned the Chantry and her vows. Take her to Aeonar.”
The Templars moved forward, and Lily began to sob. “No—not there,” she begged. “Please, no--”
“No--” Jowan cried. “No, I won't let you touch them--” he pulled a knife from his belt and slashed open his arm, blood pouring out of the wound. He raised his hands, and the Templars all at once collapsed, rendering the chamber quiet again. “Come on,” he urged the other two, turning first to Kitranna, then Lily. “Come on, we need to go--”
Lily backed away, shaking her head. “By the Maker...” she whispered. “Blood magic—Jowan, you said you'd never—you'd never--”
“They were going to hurt us,” Jowan said, his voice cracking. “Lily, I couldn't let them--”
“How could you--” she looked down at the knife. “You were prepared, you already knew how--”
“Only a little!” he said. “I thought—I thought it would make me better at magic--”
“Blood magic is evil, Jowan--”
“I'll give it up, all magic,” Jowan said, holding out his hands, which still dripped with blood. “Please, Lily, I just want to be with you—I want to leave this place--”
“I trusted you...” Lily said. “I was ready to sacrifice everything for you—stay away from me, blood mage--”
Kitranna wrapped her hand around one of Jowan's arms. “Fine!” she exclaimed, her voice hitching. “Fine, you—you Chantry cow, fine, we don't need you, Jowan, come on, before they wake up--”
“Kitranna--” he turned to her. “No, no, you have to stay, they'll catch you if you run, they still have your phylactery--”
“I can't let you leave on your own!” she gripped him so tightly she was sure to leave a bruise. “They'll find you, they'll hurt you—Jowan, please--”
He tried to disentangle himself from her. “No, Kitranna, they'll find you—let me go, I can do it, I—I'll be alright, I promise--”
The Templars began to stir.
“I have to go,” he said. “I—I'm sorry--” he pushed her away and ran, bolting for the door, blasting it open with another spell conjured from the blood spilling down his arm, then he was gone.
Kitranna was left standing alone, her robes stained with blood. She rounded on Lily.
“You said you loved him,” she snarled. “You said--”
“I cannot love a blood mage!” Lily exclaimed. “They should have—they should have made him Tranquil, if he knew blood magic--!”
Kitranna smacked her. Lily's mouth opened in a gasp, and she clutched her cheek. The sound of the slap echoed in the quiet hall.
Kitranna covered her face. She didn't know what to do.
Irving was the first to stir, getting painfully to his feet. “What in the name of the Maker...” he mumbled. Lily was immediately by his side, helping him up. When he was on his feet, she backed away again.
“I knew it,” Gregoire grumbled, coming to as well. “Blood magic—but to overcome so many! I never thought him capable of such power...”
Kitranna folded her arms and turned away.
“None of us expected this. Are you alright, Gregoire?” Irving said.
“As good as can be expected, given the circumstances!” Gregoire clenched his fists. “If you had let me act sooner, none of this would have happened! Now we have a blood mage on the loose and no way to track him down! Where is the girl—the initiate?” he cast about, searching for Lily.
“I—I am here, Ser,” Lily said, knotting her hands together.
“You helped a blood mage!” Gregoire thundered. “Look at all he's hurt!”
“You hurt him first,” Kitranna mumbled.
Everyone turned to look at her.
“What was that?” Gregoire snapped.
Kitranna balled her hands into fists. “You were going to hurt him first!” she shouted. “You were going to make him Tranquil!”
“And you aided a blood mage!” Gregoire exclaimed.
“Jowan never hurt anyone in his life, all he wanted was to be a good mage, and you forced his hand!” she said.
“Enough,” Irving said. “This argument will get us nowhere. You were in the magical repository—did you take any of the artifacts?”
“Artifacts are what you care about?” she was almost screeching now, and her skin felt hot and dry, as if she were charging a fireball.
“That repository is locked for a reason!” Gregoire growled. “What are we to do with you? Your...antics have made a mockery of this Circle!”
Kitranna took a deep breath, ready to shout again, when she was interrupted by Duncan's cool voice.
“Knight-Commander, First Enchanter, if I may, you are aware I am recruiting for the Gray Wardens as well as the king's army.”
Duncan strolled into the room, to step between Kitranna and Irving and Gregoire.
“What does that have to do with this?” Gregoire snapped. “If anything, this incident merely proves that we need a closer watch over the mages, not that we should be sending them off to fight darkspawn!”
Duncan put a protective hand on Kitranna's shoulder, making her jump in surprise. “Irving spoke highly of this mage, and I wish to bring her into the Gray Wardens,” he said.
“Absolutely not,” Gregoire said. “She has flagrantly disregarded Circle rules, aided a blood mage, and--”
“And showed great dedication to the goal of her friend, above all else,” Duncan interrupted. “Such dedication and loyalty is an asset to the Gray Wardens.”
“I refuse,” Gregoire said. “This matter will be investigated and I will not release her to the Wardens.”
“Worse things than blood mages plague this world, Knight-Commander,” Duncan admonished. His hand tightened on Kitranna's shoulder. “You know that. In any case, it is not your decision any longer—I invoke the Right of Conscription. I take this mage under my wing and accept full responsibility for her. She is no longer in your charge.”
“This mage does not deserve a place in the Wardens!” Gregoire raged.
“It is out of our hands, Gregoire,” Irving said. Kitranna wasn't sure, but she thought there was a smirk playing about the corners of his mouth. He looked at her. “You have an opportunity few even dream of. Do not squander it.”
“You cannot--” Gregoire began again, but Duncan cut him off, addressing Kitranna directly.
“We need to make our way to Ostagar as quickly as possible,” he said, steering her away from both Gregoire and Irving. “The king's army is camped there and we are several weeks behind.”
“How are we getting there?” Kitranna asked, glancing back over her shoulder at Gregoire and Irving, then looking back at Duncan. “I've never been out of the Tower before.”
Duncan frowned in thought. “Never?”
“No.”
“Hm...this journey may be harder than you are used to, then.”
Kitranna grimaced and held her arms. “I don't care. Anything to leave here.”
They quickly acquired the supplies they needed, gathering Kitranna's sparse things and Duncan's belongings, then headed out of the Tower without so much as a word to Irving, Gregoire, or anyone else.
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