Chapter 15: The past and the present

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"Bring forth the accused," Meredith orders.

Her demand echoes ominously throughout the chamber and adjacent corridor. I hide in the corner. I slink back into the shadows to avoid being under Meredith's harsh glare. Meredith waits in the middle, in the light being cast through the grate overhead. I am trying to steady my breath so Meredith cannot hear my growing fear. I do not wish to be here but it was an order, not a request. 'Every Templar must witness the rite' Meredith had told me in a cold authoritative voice. 'It demonstrates Maker given justice'. I do not believe this nor do I believe magic to be a curse, but I could never utter such foolish notions in my current company.

I stand motionless until the silence is broken by the heavy fall of Templar's armoured boots, and the howls of terror that ring out amidst pleas of, "I am innocent. No, Maker, no. Please."

I jolt as the door to the dank chamber in which we wait is opened revealing two Templar guards dragging a slight blonde female Mage. Her glassy eyes desperately search out anyone's' she manages to lock on to mine despite the darkness. I averted my gaze; I am unable to look her in the eye. I feel ashamed. I am frozen in place. Tightness in my throat seems to choke away any protest I might wish to make. Pathetic self-interest ensures my continued silence. I do not wish to be cast out upon the streets, or worse. I fear to share the mages fate. So I hold my eyes to the stone ground.

"Please help me," the Mage wails...

I wonder if she is appealing to me? My heart strains at the thought.

"Please help me," she cries once more.

I can't look at her, I am unable to stand the guilt.

"Recruit you will bear witness," Meredith warns.

Startled, I slowly draw my eyes back up to the cruel vision of the restrained Mage twisting and turning in an effort to escape the vice-like grip of the Templars holding her. Her sobs are heart-wrenching. Meredith is unmoved. Cold as ice, her eyes bore into the poor Mage.

"Do you confess to your crimes?" Meredith presses.

"I am innocent," the Mage yelps.

"How can you avoid danger if you lack the capacity to even see it? Do you have anything to say before the rite is performed?"

"Don't do this please," the Mage pleads.

Meredith takes her hands to the mages temples. I can feel a vibration of energy. The mages pleas fall silent. I can see her face is frozen in a mask of agony, tears flow freely down her cheeks. It is a silent brutality, there may not be blood but the end result is the same: there is a death. The mage drops to the ground with a sickening thud. A moment's stillness is followed by the mage thrashing about violently. I take my hand to my mouth to mute the gasp of horror I know is coming.

"Do not fight it. This is for your own good. This is your freedom," Meredith proclaims to the mage.

Meredith truly sounds as if she believes every word of it. She believes this is justice and that this is for the mages own good. This cruelty serves no purpose but to inspire fear and it is working all too well. I am terrified by the power we possess. She did something to the mind of that mage but I do not know what, nor do I wish to possess such knowledge. Meredith proceeds to hold the mage down until their gasps cease, and the mage is still.

"Be at peace," Meredith states before she orders, "Bring me the brand."

One of the Templar guards slips out and returns quickly with an iron brand burning with the light of lyrium. He places it in Meredith's outstretched hand and she presses it harshly to the mage's forehead. The foul smell of burning flesh seeps into the air. It sickens me. We all wait in silence. I do not know what we are waiting for until I hear the mage gasp as if surfacing from the deepest waters. She sits up and accepts the hand of a Templar who only moments ago was holding her in place. No one seems to be shocked or horrified by the ordeal, only me. The other Templars just look jaded as if they cared once but now they no longer have the strength or inclination. Was this my future?

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