A Chance Meet (Anders)

[Azalea Valdea]

Well now, this was quite the predicament. A predicament that really hadn't turned out for the best at all in fact.

Azalea was known for getting into trouble, not on purpose, but by sheer lack of luck, and the inability to control her temper. Had she instigated the situation? To a degree yes. Could she had just walked away? Certainly so. Would she though? Certainly not. If she could just keep her mouth shut for a moment, she wouldn't be where she was now. Now here Azalea was, bruised and a bit bloody, limping her way to a nearby inn. Oh what a mess the girl was.

The young mage had only just been in Orlais for a short while, about two weeks maybe. She was struck with the wanderlust, and found herself just traveling from place to place. Orlais was the first foreign country she had decided to travel to though. Why? It was the closest. So far, she was not liking it one single bit. She missed Ferelden dearly. At least the people were friendlier. Here in Orlais, they were snobby, fashion crazed, and just simply rude. So far, her treatment in this country wasn't all that great. And it's not like many of the people here know she is a mage. There were times where she had about given herself away, well...until today anyways. The people just simply did not care for Ferelden foreigners it seemed.

Now, what started this catastrophic day was a few mean words from a couple of men, mage-haters to be exact. They weren't exactly in town, but rather they were walking towards town, for business perhaps, or just visiting just as Azalea was planning to do. She was a shot distance away from the men, and was just able to catch a few words here and there. What she did hear, she simply did not like. They spoke of great ill on the mages, how they were abominations that needed to just be put down, not just locked away. Naturally, this made Azzy quite irritated, for naturally, she was a mage of course. She managed to keep her mouth shut for a good few minutes, before the ongoing prattle about how bad mages were was just simply too much for the young woman. Well, to make a long story short, Azalea had called out to the men, said a few choice words, the men walked over, yelled at the young mage, angered said young mage, and well, a little brawl ensued right then and there. They were tough, and Azalea was certainly not a fighter by any means. She knew a few basic spells for defense, and a few offensive ones. Her choice attack though, was simply to fireball her enemies. Of course, it was hard to cast any sort of spell when you have two men attacking you. So, Azalea took a few blows here and there, grateful that she decided to not wear a particularly nice dress she had found and was neatly stored away in her pack. Instead, she was dressed in light chain-mail, which, wasn't really strong like most other chain-mail armor. But, it held off quite a few of their blows, but still nicked her quite a bit. After a while, Azalea finally managed to get out a single offensive spell, which was, yes, her trademark fireball spell. This naturally set aflame the men, causing them to wail like small children from the sheer pain. Azalea took this time to flee from the scene, cursing herself for opening her big fat stupid mouth.

By the time she reached the city, she was exhausted, and her wounds were starting to affect her. Azalea managed to heal herself enough to just keep going, for she couldn't muster enough strength to heal herself entirely. She got a few looks from people passing by as she trudged along, seeing as she looked a mess. Azalea tried to fight the urge to take out her staff again and to just simply use it as something to keep her up. But, that would bring more attention to her...of course, if people looked at her back anyways they would see the silver dragon headed staff. Azalea asked for an inn by a passing woman, and thankfully she was kind enough to point her in the direction of one. With great effort, the girl walked on, wrapping her arms around herself as a nervous habit.

After a few minutes, she came across a sign that stated she was at an inn, and she pushed open the door to let herself inside. It was a small inn, somewhat pleasant, with a small bar off on the way other side of the room. Azalea trudged over to the front desk, where an innkeeper stood, looking rather impatient for something.

"Um, hi there...look I just need a room for the night if you have one." Azalea said quietly, clenching her jaw after she stopped speaking as a wave of pain ran through her body. The innkeeper looked Azalea over and gave a little snort.

"Fifty silver Lass." He gruffed.

"Y-yeah ok just hang on." Azalea said, her voice hardly above a whisper. She took her pack off her shoulder and began to rummage for the coin, when a dizzy feeling struck her. Azalea swayed on her feet, gripping the desk tightly to try and keep balance. A moment later though, she found herself falling onto her side, blacking out before she even hit the ground.

[Anders]

Anders slid his fingers over the smooth wooden top of the bar. It had been an odd day for the ex-Waren/apostate/catalyst to the war. Though what was a usual day for someone on the run? It was more normal for Anders to dodge around trouble, rather than have a calm and even relaxing day. What made today odd however was that he was heckled. This heckling didn’t come from being a mage. An apostate. An ex-Warden. Not even because he destroyed the Chantry.

No.

It was because he wasn’t dressed fashionably.

Maker, he hated this land. Everything was so surface level. He had spent most of his life in Ferelden - where everything was brown, smelled like dogs, and there was a very distinct coldness to the air, year-round. He missed that - even if he had spent a majority of that time attempting to escape the Circle. But that was years ago. Since then a lot had changed.

So much.

Since the random heckling, Anders had taken refuge in this small inn. Unlike the rest of the area - it seemed much more relaxed. People who were staying there were all most likely just passing through. No one wanted to question anyone. Just get in, sleep, and get out. A small tavern inside the inn, greeted those who were not yet ready for sleep.

The mage watched as a pint of mead was slid in front of him - the gruff barkeep giving him a nod. Anders nodded back, and lifted the glass to his lips. He grimaced slighty at the unexpected taste of the Orleisan meade. It had a certain bitterness he wasn’t used to. Shaking his head slightly, he glanced over his shoulder as the door to the inn creaked open. A young woman with bright red hair walked through. Well - limped through, rather. She looked rather injured for the average citizen. Anders placed some coin on the bar, quickly finishing off his mead - as the girl began to ask for a room. Judging by how often she was blinking and the quietness of her voice, she was probably about to lose consciousness. Pushing back from the bar, he slowly made his way over to the injured girl.

Just as he thought, the girl suddenly fell towards the ground. Anders quickly stepped forward and caught her, causing the man behind the counter to lean over his desk.
“She alright?”
“She’s injured. I’m a healer. I can take care of her.”
“Ya know...she didn’t pay for her room yet...” the man smirked down at Anders, causing the mage to grunt under his breath and reach for his coin-purse. Pulling fifty silver, he tossed it onto the counter, as the man retrieved a key.
“Have fun with her. She’s a pretty one.”

Anders frowned at the man, shaking his head - as he carefully lifted the young woman into his arms.

Setting her down on the bed, he hovered his hands over her body. He could sense a strong energy from her. A mage, perhaps. Her injuries weren’t new. She had passed out from allowing them to go unattended for some time.

The apostate took a deep breath to gather what energy he could. It had been a long day and he hadn’t managed to get much sleep the night before - so he didn’t have much energy to spare.

His hands glowed and the girl’s wounds slowly healed.

Hopefully she wasn’t a young Templar in hiding.

Knowing his luck, however...

[Azalea Valdea]

Again, quite the situation. How often does a young woman waltz into an inn all bloody and hurt, and just pass out? Not often. It must have been quite the scene to the others in the little building, and just rotten luck for poor Azalea. She wasn't the luckiest soul to walk amongst Thedas, but, it could be worse. She could be dead after all. How the girl didn't die was beyond her. Azalea was always in some sort of trouble or another, whether it be by sheer accident, or the loss of her temper. It was rare she got into a full blown fight though, which was both good and bad. Good, because that meant less chance of dying. Bad, because that meant when she did indeed fight, well, she was rusty in that department, and very well could die. But, thankfully, she didn't this time. Whether it be a small sliver of luck, or maybe the Maker actually was looking out for her. And perhaps to add on to her luck for today, someone actually seemed to care enough in this silly country to see if she was okay.

Of course, she wasn't even conscious to see the act of kindness. And, had she seen the man paying for her room and picking her up to take her to it, she would have thought of the worse immediately. Because, let's face it, there would be men ready to take advantage of a passed out woman, and there was no way of knowing if her savior here was the type of guy.

It felt like moments had only passed when Azalea's amber eyes fluttered open. All she remembered was that she had walked into the inn, and was about to pay. Then suddenly, she found herself here in a little room, laying on a bed. She looked around, only just noticing the man beside her bed. A startled look appeared on her face and she sat up, her eyes widening. Azalea looked down at herself real quick. Ok, clothes still on. Good. She looked back over. His clothes still on. Good. She tilted her head up to meet the eyes of the man beside her. Older than her for sure. He had a nice shade of strawberry blonde in his hair though. He seemed tired looking, a little rough around the edges in a way. Dressed in light armor, all that good stuff.

Azalea blinked up at him, still bewildered as she tried to recall what had happened. She rubbed the side of her head, and gave a little sheepish grin before it faltered into a look of confusion once more.

"I take it I passed out or something? And that you brought me here?" Azalea asked, tilting her head. She looked down at herself again, though some blood was still showing, it certainly wasn't fresh, and no signs of bleeding wounds could be seen. The young mage gingerly poked at her side, where she knew one of the wounds was at, and felt nothing. Now, she knew for a fact she hadn't been able to heal that one. Just the little ones on her arms and such. She poked at a few other places she thought there had been cuts at, and once more felt nothing.

"You didn't heal me by any chance did you?" Azalea asked, once more looking up at the man. He must have surely. There was no one else around after all. A trickle of guilt passed over her. She knew how much energy healing took, and he did look so tired. Had she really been that bad off? "W-well if you did, thank you very much." The young woman said a little shyly. She looked around again before feeling for her pack. Azalea frowned. "I don't remember. Did I pay? I feel like I didn't." Azalea said quietly, looking into the small pocket of her pack where she kept her coins. She sighed and dropped the bag back onto the bed, and rubbed at her temples. Azalea swung her legs around so she was sitting at the edge of the bed. She started to stand up, but felt a rushing feeling in her head and she sat back down. No use getting up and running around right now.

"So, who are you exactly? You look a bit familiar." Azalea looked him over again. Indeed, he looked familiar in a way. Maybe she seen him once on her travels in the crowd or something. Or maybe she really hit her head hard or something. Maker knows.

[Anders]

Years ago, Anders probably wouldn’t have helped the injured girl. He would have simply ignored her and decided that assisting her was more risky to himself than any reward could possibly be for helping her. Well - years ago he probably would have thought able helping her a little, considering he did a lot of thinking with his nether regions around that time. Time, however, is funny like that. It transformed Anders from a selfish boy who only wish was to escape the tower - to the man who now helped any he could. The one who changed the world as a whole - simply to force everyone to stop ignoring the broken Circle and corrupt Templars.


As the girl’s eyes snapped open, Anders quickly stop healing her.
“I mean you no harm,” he assured her - holding up his hands slighty - as she questioned if she had passed out and their new location.
“Ha, well yes. You passed out while buying a room,” he nodded, noticing her studying herself - testing where wounds were previously the worst. Blood still stained her rather light chain-mail - but Anders’ quick work should have closed most - if not all - of the wounds. The girl raised her amber eyes to meet Anders’ as she questioned if he ‘didn’t by chance’ heal her.

“I did indeed,” he nodded with a slight smirk, as she thanked him in a shy voice.
The girl reached around for her pack - which Anders grabbed from beside the bed and placed next to her - to allow the girl to find whatever she was looking for. Retrieving her coin purse, she began ranting about how she ‘felt like she didn’t pay’.

“You passed out before you could get to your coin-purse,” Anders reported, as she moved to the end of the bed. Attempting to stand, the girl only made it part of the way up, before promptly sitting back down.
“I was just about to say ‘I wouldn’t recommend standing’. I may have healed you, but your body is still learning that.”

Giving up on her endeavor to stand, the girl glanced back over at Anders and questioned who he was. Apparently she thought he looked a bit familiar. The mage frowned slightly as he debated trusting her. Might as well be as vague as possible. She didn’t seem shocked at being healed and had what appeared to be a staff in her belongings.

“Call me Anders,” he greeted, “I do a lot of traveling so you’ve probably seen me around. And who are you, if I may ask? Those wounds weren’t small nor simple,” Anders rose a brow at the strange red-haired girl. She wasn’t a local - that much was obvious. Her accent was all wrong. Possibly Ferelden?

[Azalea Valdea]

It was funny, how most people of the world wouldn't bat an eye when it came to helping someone. Azalea was just glad that the one person in this silly city took time to help, rather than watch her bleed out all over the floor. You would think, the innkeeper, or a worker there would be quick to help...after all, blood is very tricky to get out of certain materials. Ah well, she had been helped, that's all that mattered right?

When she had first awoken, her healer had been quick to assure her he was not there to hurt her in any way. Despite him only being a stranger to her, she felt like she could trust his words. Maybe she was just that gullible, or perhaps this gentleman here had such sincerity in his voice. Whatever the case, the young woman had relaxed considerably. After she had made sure that nothing had happened while she was zonked out anyways.

He told her then, that she had indeed passed out while trying to get a room. She let out a little flustered sigh and ran a hand through her hair, giving a little embarrassed giggle. "Well, that's certainly embarrassing. I already get enough drama by how I dress form this silly place." She rolled her eyes. Why did fashion mean so much to these people? What's a frilly dress going to do against arrows or blades? Okay, well, Azalea had to admit, she did like to dress up from time to time...it always feels nice to feel pretty sometimes right?

The man did admit to healing her, to which she then realized she had asked a ridiculous question. Of course he had to have healed her...no random healing fairies came by she was certain. And, she should have been able to sense the strange, yet familiar energy emitting from her companion here. If she hadn't already suspected of this man being a mage, now that she was actually paying attention, she was certain. Not a mage of Orlais, that was for sure. The accent was too...rough to be one from Orlais. In fact, it reminded Azalea a lot of Ferelden. A pang of homesickness poked at her. She really did miss that place...what with the mud, and the dogs and everything.

As she had tried to stand up, she had caught the man telling her that she hadn't paid, and as she sat, only then did he recommend her not standing. Azalea flashed a little sheepish smile. Silly her, she should have known that. She tilted her head a little bit though in question, like a puppy in a way. "I didn't pay? Then how---oh no you didn't pay for me did you?" The young mage asked in a little panicked voice. She grabbed her bag, and rummaged around for her money again, attempting to give the fifty silver that she had owed. "Here, I think that's what I owed...I couldn't live in good conscious without paying you back. You already helped a great deal." Azalea said a bit nervously, talking a bit quickly like she normally did when flustered.

The man introduced himself then as Anders, and the very name caused Azalea's eyes to widen a bit in shock and awe. Now there was a name she had heard constantly as a young apprentice. Anders, the infamous escapee of the Circle. She thought that at one point, an Anders had been a part of the Gray Wardens, but it was hard to tell if that was the same Anders or not. And alas, though she traveled often, she did not hear of an Anders being the start of the mage-templar war. Azalea grinned widely though, almost childishly. "Anders? Really? The same Anders from the Circle in Ferelden?" She asked excitedly, feeling incredibly ecstatic she had finally personally met the very mage who gave her the inspiration to escape the Tower. Azalea shook her head a little, trying to compose herself. No need to seem more like a child than she already looked right?

"I'm Azalea. I use to be a part of the Circle in Ferelden." She looked away, back to herself rather when Anders asked about where she had gotten the wounds from. Another embarrassed laugh echoed from her and she looked back at her fellow mage. "Well...I picked a fight with a couple guys I probably shouldn't have, got cut up a bit, came into the city and well...you know the rest." Azalea said with her usual sheepish grin, quite embarrassed of herself to be honest.

[Anders]

A smile tugged at Anders’ lips, as the girl mentioned being harassed for her attire.
“They mocked my attire, as well. Apparently they aren’t tolerant of functional clothing in this place,” he shook his head, in awe that he wasn’t alone in being heckled how he dressed, “Maybe it was the same people?” he wondered, as the girl seemed to calm down.

If she was a mage - she was clearly an apostate. Mages didn’t walk around in anything but those robes that were only useful for one thing and one thing alone. And that wasn’t magic. Well - they did often enhance a mage’s ability to channel magic - making certain spells easier or even making them resistant to certain elements. Anders, however, thought they were most useful for things the Maker would frown upon in dark corners of the Circle’s Tower.

At least that’s how he spent his time between escape attempts.

In short, if she was a mage like he suspected, she was an apostate who probably ran when the war began. Whether she ran because she was scared of what would happen in the tower, or if she simply wished for freedom, he had no way of knowing.

The girl connected the dots, and quickly realized that Anders had covered her room’s cost. She awkwardly fumbled around with her coin-purse, fishing out the fifty silvers.
“I...oh thank you,” he raised a brow, honestly not expecting to get repaid, “You don’t have to do that if you can’t afford it,” he added, modestly accepting the coin.

As she asked him to identify himself, Anders stated his name. The girl’s eyes widened in a sort of recognition which caused the man to wince slightly. She recognized him. People who recognized him by either name or appearance tended to want him dead or captured. He really should have started going by a false name at this point in his life.

Well another false name.

His parents didn’t ironically name the kid from the Andersfels ‘Anders’ afterall.

When the girl finally spoke, words fell through her mouth he didn’t think he was lucky enough to hear.
She was from the Circle in Ferelden.
“You’re from Ferelden too?” he smiled, realizing his analysis of her accent was somewhat accurate. She could have easily been from the Free Marches as well with that voice. Some people heard a difference in the accents. To Anders, they all sounded the same, “I spent years in that tower. I caused the Templars to change so many of the rules to keep us in,” he laughed under his breath, picturing the time he dove into the lake around the Tower during the time they were allotted outside. Simpler times. Simpler problems.

The girl stated her name - clarifying she was from that very Circle.

“Sorry I don’t remember you from the Tower, Azalea. It’s been years since I was imprisoned in there,” he frowned slightly.

The topic switched to her wounds, causing Azalea to look away uncomfortably.
Apparently she had gotten herself into a fight that was a bit above her head.
“These are dangerous times,” he cautioned, frowning at her carelessness, “It’s not a time to be bold as a mage. Not by far. Not without an army at least,” he shrugged, glad to have helped someone who was - in a way - part of his past.

[Azalea Valdea]

Azalea grinned and tipped her head back some, letting out a little laugh. "I'm glad I'm not alone in this matter. This city...or country rather is just...ugh." She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't be surprised if it had been the same people. Though I'm sure everyone here heckles poor "fashion-less" visitors." She gave a little snort. Really, the sooner she was out of this country, the better. Now, she just needed to plan where to go next. Azalea terribly missed Ferelden, though she hadn't been away for too awful long. Maybe she would just go home when she left here. The Free Marches didn't seem like such an appealing place at the time...what with it being the heart of the War and everything. At least in Ferelden, a mage was far less likely to really get caught. The Free Marches seemed like a death trap. Well, there was plenty of time to debate on where to go next. No need to worry about it at the moment.

Azalea was certainly glad she escaped when she had the chance. It had been a few years prior to the War, so at least things had been a bit calmer at the time. She didn't even want to know what would have happened had she stayed. The young woman hadn't really been attatched to anyone, so she had no problem leaving the Circle. Well, that was a bit of a lie. There had been one person she had left, though it didn't matter. She had a friend once, an apprentice named Weylyn. He had been her best friend, and the two had developed a real close bond. Had there been more time, something could have evolved from that. But alas, the Templars felt that Weylyn was a "danger", which was entirely untrue. So, the poor boy had been made Tranquil, and any feelings he had for Azalea was gone, which depressed her greatly. So, was she glad she left? Certainly. There was nothing left for her there, except for the husk of the one person she had ever dared to love.

Azalea shook herself out of her thoughts, and returned back to the present. Anders seemed surprised when she offered to repay him. "I really don't mind. Like I said, I would feel guilty if I didn't pay you back." She gave a small grin, and she pulled up her legs so she could hug her knees to herself.

Anders seemed a little surprised again...not in a exceptionally good way, that Azalea knew his name. The reaction perked her curiosity, but felt it was rude to go poking around the personal life of someone she had only just met.

She smiled and nodded as he asked if she too came from Ferelden. "Born and raised there." She felt rather elated to know she was conversing with someone she could relate to so well. It was a rare thing to come across for her. "Really? Huh. I guess I know who to blame for all the silly new rules that kept popping up..." Azalea said, mocking a scornful look for about three seconds before she burst into a grin. "Guess it's a good thing you left while you did then. The Templars made sure to make plenty more rules while you were off gallivanting in the outside world." She gave a sigh of exasperation, giving a quiet laugh afterwards.

"Oh, don't be sorry. We never actually met in the Tower. I was young when you left. Still an apprentice at the time." A smile crossed her lips as she remembered hearing about the few escapes Anders had made during her time at the Circle. "I and a few other apprentices use to always try and figure out how you managed to get out so we could try it too. You were quite the inspiration for a few of us." Azalea said with a nod, lightly laughing to herself as she recalled those countless nights of scheming. Of course, after a while, the other apprentices seemed to give on the ideal of escape. Except for herself and Weylyn though. A slight frown tugged at her mouth. If only they had been quicker on leaving, he would be with her, instead of being Tranquil.

Ah, and now the topic about her silly fight. Azalea frowned again, and shrugged her shoulders some. "Maybe I should have kept quiet. But how could I? I'm so tired about hearing others saying horrible things about people like us." Azalea stated, irritation creeping into her voice. "Mages need to take a stand for themselves though Anders. If we hide, we'll only be labeled as cowards." Azalea nodded firmly, looking back over at Anders, seriousness enveloping her features.

[Anders]

Anders past had an odd way of never letting go. Each step through his life, left a little marker on how the world perceived him. His name marked him from the Anderfels. He left the circle so he was an apostate. He took the Joining - therefore always a Grey Warden; though his blood remembered that too. He made a deal with a friend - now he had to be careful of his emotions, or he’d glow and get very vengeful. It was very rare for his past to revisit him in a positive way.

This girl was technically a part of his past. She was also from the Circle in Ferelden - and was now an apostate. They probably had even passed each other while Anders still resided in the Circle. Anders smiled as she mentioned the Templars placing more rules upon the Circle.
“It’s their hobby, really. Are the mages looking too happy today? Let’s make a rule to stop that,” he shook his head, picturing the Templars just glaring at him in Ferelden, as he waved at them in the halls.
Such a different time.

The girl’s face drained of any amusement after a pause of talking about the Circle.
“Did you escape before the war began?” Anders asked in a gentle voice. He knew some people actually enjoyed the Ferelden Circle. It wasn’t a bad place, really. Anders just hated being controlled. Some mages felt like they were a threat to the world, and didn’t mind any of it. There was probably a handful of mages that hated Anders for starting this war.

Anders carefully studied her features as she talked about the fight. Some people genuinely enjoyed attacking others. He was somewhere in the middle of that spectrum. While Anders hated the idea of hurting others, he also had no problem taking down those who deserved it. It was a sort of rush that had diminished within the mage over the years. Suddenly it was less appealing to set a Templar ablaze.

Well still tempting - but the consequences always screamed louder than the action itself.

The girl spoke of being irritated of hiding.

They should take a stand.

Anders’ expression darkened, an irritated sigh escaping from between his lips.
“I know the feeling...” he whispered, “But things have changed,” his voice grew slightly in volume, “We’ve gone from caged animals to walking demon traps. If someone sees you even make a hand motion too quickly - you’re already captured by Templars. I know first-hand how hard it is to just...sit back. But we must in order to survive. Change is here and by ourselves we’re too weak - since Templars always have another man right behind him,” Anders shook his head, scratching his neck is discomfort, “I shouldn’t have blown up that blighted Chantry...” he whispered.

[Azalea Valdea]

"Ha! Well, they certainly made sure hardly any fun could be had. It felt like you couldn't sneeze without the Templars scolding you." Azalea said in amusement, shaking her head. The Circle really hadn't been that bad. In fact, had she not been so horridly struck with wanderlust, she would have stayed honestly. Well, if her dearest friend hadn't been made Tranquil too, she probably would have stayed. But, there had been no point to it. So, off she went, leaving everything behind and pursuing her undying need to roam from place to place. Before the war, Azalea sometimes regretted leaving, other days, she was glad. It was lonely though, that she had to admit to. She rarely spoke to many people, and rarely came into contact with any other apostates. So, meeting Anders was certainly a welcoming thing, even if the matter of how the meeting began was rather embarrassing.

Azalea returned her attention back to Anders as he asked her if she escaped before the war. She nodded lightly. "Yes. About...two or so years before it started. Maybe a bit longer than that. Perhaps it was a good thing I left while I did no?" Azalea said with only a half hearted smile. She still mourned over her lost companion, and realized that being free was truly a lonely thing. But, there wasn't a Circle to return to anyways. Had she stayed, perhaps she would be dead. It was hard to know. She hugged her knees closer to her and heaved a long, quiet sigh.

She listened as Anders spoke.

Mages needed to sit back?

They were too weak?

Azalea gave him a puzzled look, and raised her head a little higher. "Sit back? We've been sitting back for Maker knows how long! If we don't fight, how will we ever be free? We're mages! We need to be proud of who we are and be strong, despite the odds against us." She paused for a moment. "Not all of us want to just simply sit back Anders. Look at the mage that started all this! They had been bold enough to do what the rest of us couldn't." Azalea ceased her train of thought as Anders whispered something, something that caused her to sit up fully in shock. Her eyes studied him intensely, and she appeared bewildered.

"You're the one who started this?" Azalea murmured, unsure how to directly feel by Anders' words. She had mixed feelings about it. For one, yes, she was glad that someone had stepped up to show the mages should no longer be stepped on. But, on the other hand, in order to catch the attention of all of Thedas, it required blowing up the Chantry in Kirkwall. Despite whatever crookedness went on in the Chantry, not all who had been in there was guilty surely. Azalea was silent for several moments, and she stared at the floor as she processed this information.

"I can't believe it." She said quietly before looked back up at the older man. "How can you say these things now? If you truly did start this, how can you just simply want to give up? It's not right, nor is it fair Anders." She was trying hard to not sound harsh, or too judgmental. The girl was trying to see through his point of view, but found that the questions she asked had needed to be asked. The mages needed someone who could do such bold things as Anders did, maybe not as drastic, but, they needed bolder mages on their side.

[Anders]

Anders silently watched the girl as she explained that she escaped two years before the war.
“You escaped young,” he observed, with a small smile, “How did you pull it off? Find a way to break your phylactery? Ran for the hills and hoped they didn’t find you?” he asked, honestly curious. The mage himself hadn’t exactly taken the ‘easiest’ way out - having to throw away a good portion of his life and fight as well as forever sense Darkspawn. But at least he wasn’t in the tower anymore.

As Anders explained his position on mages within current times, the girl gave him a strange look - before ranting on how mages needed to take a stand.
“Yes - yes. We’re mages. We’re strong. We command the world around us in a way that no other can. But you’re missing the point here. Templars are organized. That have a structure, command, and keep a constant communication with each other. Mages on the other hand...? We’re spread out. It’s rare to find us in more than groups of two or three. And without turning to blood magic,” he grimaced, “The numbers just aren’t in our favor.”

Apparently Azalea wasn’t aware of who Anders actually was. She simply knew him from the Circle. Not the world changing events. Oh.

Anders closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, as she came to the realization the he started this mess. He was glad he helped the girl, but he should have left as soon as she awoke. The exWarden didn’t need to hear any more grief about his actions. Anders had beaten himself past any point that any other could surpass. What he did was rash. Stupid. Dangerous. But it needed to be done. People couldn’t just sit on one side anymore. They had to take a stance. But this...this wasn’t going as he had wished. Most of the mages automatically turned to blood magic without a second thought. They didn’t ban together - but they ran. They ran and became corrupted.

“It wasn’t entirely me,” he mumbled, before standing, “I should probably stop being the creepy old guy who’s been hanging out in that unconscious girl’s room now,” he smiled, realizing he had already said far too much. She knew who he was. She knew what he had done.

Now if he would have to flee the city before the information leaked.

Because it always did.

Always.

[Azalea Valdea]

Azalea pondered for a moment, scavenging for memories that occurred what seemed like ages ago. She gave a little proud smile at Anders' comment. "I was about...eighteen I believe." The mage girl said with a small nod, guessing that had been about the right age. She never really kept track of time in the Tower. The time seemed to mash together, and was constantly a monotonous routine. She looked back at Anders and asked how she had escaped, and her grin widened a bit. "Yes, basically I did just that, but I was on a horrendously short time schedule at the time." She paused for a moment, pulling up her memories. "For days I had been wanting to escape just before my Harrowing, but I could never find the courage or the opportunity. A day or so before the Harrowing, a dear friend of mine told me the best time to go and find my phylactery was after my Harrowing was done. Turns out, they don't send out a phylactery till the morning after. So yes, I snuck in, broke the bloody thing, weaseled my way out, and yes, ran for the hills and prayed I wouldn't be caught. So far I've been quite fortunate." Azalea said, still grinning a bit.

She listened carefully as Anders spoke, seeing his point of view, but too stubborn to accept it. A frown creased her face, very much not liking this information one bit. She crinkled her nose a bit at the mention of blood magic, and she shivered slightly at the thought of it. Azalea sighed and stared at the floor for a moment before looking back up. "Ok, ok. I hear what you're saying. But, if mages can learn that we need to stick together, we can over-come this. W-we could gather up mages that we find, a-and...I don't know, bring them some place. Build our numbers, make a final push against the Templars. We just need to do something, anything besides running away and resorting to blood magic." She probably sounded utterly stupid, but she didn't truly care at the moment. Not all hope was lost after all. The mages could, and would win someday.

"I'm not judging you for what you did alright? Something needed to be done, to get the ball rolling on this. And it is a shame it had to come down to something like that." She sighed quietly. "The mages need someone like you though Anders. Don't you see that? Don't you want to fight? So that mages in the future don't have to?" Azalea asked as he stood up. When he mentioned leaving, she felt a little sense of panic, which made her stand up too, though a little wobbly.

"Wait, where are you going?" She asked, the panic creeping into her voice. "Can you at least take me with you?" Azalea asked softly, feeling very much like a child at that moment, or a lost puppy. It had taken her all this time to find another mage to talk to, to be in the presence of. Running and hiding was a very lonely activity. And if she could be with someone for at least a little while it would be nice. Surely Anders feels the same way?

"I wouldn't be any trouble for you, I promise." She said, looking down some. Perhaps if he let her join him, she could convince him to fight again, rather than just run. Azalea looked back up at Anders, her amber eyes gazing at him like a child, waiting and hoping for an answer.