Containable (irline)

I slowed my pace slightly and walked calmly down the center of the stairs. And here one of the features of the elven body appeared. The narrow field of vision with its excellent acuity makes Dahlian hunters the best archers of Thedas, but if you're a mage who needs to keep an eye on two templars at once, it turns into a disadvantage. Finding myself right between the templars, I took a sharp step forward as soon as the one I was watching moved his legs. And I didn't lose — I dodged the punches.

"Lucky for you, elves," Jovan said quietly as we climbed the stairs. "You have a wonderful reaction. It's easy for you to get away from a blow by pretending that it was an accident."

"It's when the Templars strike at the same time," I said.

"When they don't hit at the same time, it's hard for everyone. But the elves have almost no stamina — you lose consciousness so quickly that the disgruntled templars kick you unconscious, and it usually hits harder, because they can't stop in time."

"It's like they want to stop."

"They don't want to kill us-firstly, there's less of a living toy, and secondly, too many corpses can raise certain questions among the Denerim priestesses."

"Well, yes, corpses can be attributed to the destruction of blood mages, but too many "blood mages" will cause an unfavorable opinion about the quality of the templars' work."

"I don't know if it's lucky or unlucky, but Wynn can heal almost anything. So the Templars are completely free, you just don't have to kill on the spot."

During this conversation, we went up to the second floor, on the way to which we had to fall silent. This time it was even easier to avoid the blows of the Templars — we approached from behind. Going out to the second floor in a circular hall divided into two parts, we passed a calmly standing tranquil and slipped into the circular corridor of this floor. A tranquil... It's a terrible fate. No one deserves this, even to save themselves from demons. The price is exorbitant — turning into an obedient, initiative-free and emotionless being. An almost perfect slave, able to work with lyrium.

Jovan did not move along the corridor, immediately opening the door to one of the large rooms adjacent to the outer wall of the Tower. It turned out to be the library of the Tower, with huge shelves of books lining all the walls.

"What a blessing that some people consider only the Song of Light worthy of reading and ignore everything else."

"That is, the templars are incredibly bored here," I replied to Jovan.

"That's why they're not here."

For the next few minutes, we walked through the library, which occupied half of the exterior of the tower. Given that, unlike in the game, the living quarters of ordinary magicians were on the ground floor, the entire second floor was allocated for the library, the entrance to the storerooms, the Wynn hospital, small rooms of Senior Casters, themselves fenced off from their "possessions", the room of the First Caster, guest rooms and the church. There weren't many Magicians in the library, probably due to the early hour. After I exchanged brief greetings with the elf student and received congratulations on completing my apprenticeship from the man in the robes of a Senior Caster, we left the library without meeting anyone else. Again, in reality, Eadric, an unfriendly elf student turned out to be gray-haired. Going out into the corridor, we passed the guest chambers, next to which there were no templars, and almost immediately slipped into the room adjacent to the storerooms — the patrimony of Leora.

The youngest of the Older Spellcasters turned out to be a thin, white-haired elf with equally white skin and emerald eyes, the only bright spot in her appearance. Dressed in a snow-white robe of the standard style for magicians of the Circle, the girl from a distance resembled a pale skinny moth. Apparently, she hadn't had any problems with spiders yet, so Leora was in a good mood.

"Congratulations on passing the Torture," she greeted me. "Have you come for rations?"

Jovan closed the door behind us, and I moved closer to Leora.

"Thank you. We're not eating, it's just that Irving called."

"Why don't you give him some Templar food to celebrate his ordeal?" The magician said, stopping a dozen steps away from me and pretending to study a nearby shelf. It seemed that even in a closed room, he didn't want to risk being assigned to the three communicating magicians.

"Jovan, stop bullying," I said.

"How many times do I have to tell each individual student that the Templar food is stored in the coldest place of the Tower, in the part of the cellars that extends under the lake" Leora raised her eyes to the ceiling. "They are guarded along with dangerous artifacts and slightly worse than phylacteries. What can you do — valuable perishable products, they need cold."

My storerooms are right in the rock, into which the Tower is partially built, at the level of the first and second floors. And you won't find anything but bread, vegetables and cereals there.

"Do you have to talk often?"

"Oh, right, you haven't made any such attempts. On average, once a month, someone tries to sneak into the storerooms for food for the Templars. Of course, I understand that thoughts about meat occupy the mind, but you have to think well. Who's going to trust me with meat? But there are almost no Templars here. But still, you shouldn't linger without a goal — they might wonder what took you so long. And if there is a "conspiracy"? Besides, you should hurry to Irving."

"Okay, we'll go. See you later, Leora."

After leaving the elf's domain through another door, we went back out into the corridor and continued on our way. Jovan stopped in front of the next door.

"I don't want to go like this. The healing chambers are not a pleasant sight," said the magician. "But there's a templar down the hall who's already hurt me today. I suggest we go around."

"Yeah, we don't need any extra meetings."

He opened the door and we entered the realm of wooden beds, the smell of medicinal potions and the quiet moans of patients covered with light blankets. Halfway through the room, we passed the fence and saw the mistress of these places, the Elder Enchantress Wynn. The healer was sitting by the bedside of a gray-haired elf girl who looked to be about ten or eleven years old. Her right arm was broken at the forearm and slightly bent along the fracture, her left wrist was bent at an impossible angle. And below the belt...

"Who?" was all I could get out of myself.

But Wynn understood me.

"Cullen," she replied. "The main fan of young elves, although there are others. That's where my mind broke down. The beautiful tale from Biovar shattered into bloody fragments. Cullen is a templar who is touchingly in love with the magician character and gets embarrassed at the slightest hint! So that's what his crush really turned out to be! I slowly looked around the hospital beds, looking for the injuries of the magicians and realizing with horror that there were no burns, frostbite and similar injuries from magic in at least this half of the room at all. But there are enough wounds and fractures.

Now I understood how the spirit of justice inside Andreres turned into a demon of revenge... But I still wasn't a spirit, so I just went crazy. Mercy shifted in me, giving way to Hatred, and the two of them muted all other feelings.

"Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely," I whispered the classic quote.

"Let's go," Jovan said, seeing that I was frozen in place. "You shouldn't keep Irving waiting."

We left the healing chambers, which gave me the cutting fragments of a broken fairy tale, and the realization of the reasons why the healer Wynn looks like an old woman, and Leora bleaches her robes to the image of a pale corpse. And also an understanding of why Wynn had given up her position as First Wizard. If I had remained human, I would certainly have turned gray that day.

Finally, we reached the First Caster's office. Jovan stayed at the door, and I went through the open door. At that time, the old man was chatting with a gray-haired but sturdy man in leather armor decorated with lyrium runes. When he turned around, I saw the image of a flaming sword on his chest. And the face of Irving's interlocutor turned out to be very familiar — it was the head of all the templars of the tower, Gregoire.

First Gregoire started talking about how I was now a full-fledged magician, then I was given a robe and a staff, and then a serious conversation began. You've learned the basics of magic schools, mastered your first combat spell, and shown that you can resist demons," the First Caster began.

I don't get it, are they throwing students against a demon with a single combat spell?

"From now on, the Tower's library is fully open to you. I would like to know in which direction are you going to develop your abilities? It is not necessary to give an answer today, but I would like to know your intentions soon."

"The ordeal has made me think a lot, and this morning has provided a great opportunity to do so. I would like to become a healer."

Irving looked mildly surprised. There was silence.

"Infrequent choice, infrequent. They usually learn elemental magic, mostly fire magic and curses."

As if one or the other would help against the Templars! Irving was silent for a while longer.

"Well, you have access to the library, and you can contact Wynn about healing magic, she's a master."

"I've had enough practice," I almost whispered.

Chapter 1.2 A new life in the Circle of magicians.