A/N: My first Dragon Age fic! Yay! (?) About the Human Mage (fem) Warden and Cullen. This is kinda the prologue... thing.
I'll probably do a sequel-thing for post-game. Prolly.

10.24.10: Undergoing some editing. Also, the sequel is started.

You'd think that after a while a person would get used to something—however unpleasant that something might be. But this is not true. And the mages residing in the Circle of Magi Tower know this all too well.

.X.x.X.

Apprentice mages travel in packs. Any time the not-so-chance encounter of a Templar has even the slightest possibility of showing up (and, considering where and what they are, that is a very large 'slight' possibility), the younger mages amalgamate, preferring to travel in groups of four or five.

After all, safety in numbers, right?

The apprentices walk anxiously and hurriedly as they escort one another to corresponding destinations, occasionally letting their eyes, wide in half-terror, half-awe flick nervously to the ever-present, ever-solemn sentinels of the tower.

Though, it wasn't like they had anything to truly be frightened of. Usually.

Well, except for the glaring.

And the blades.

And the fact that should these watchful 'guardians' so chose, the Templars could cancel out their magic, their defenses, their power, and, well—them.

So, no. Nothing to be frightened of at all.

Really.

But eventually, the apprentices learn to block out that cold-as-steel feeling that the Templars give off. Or rather, they learn to numb that sense of constant and sheer terror that the templars once inspired. They turn their fright into something else: Resentment, or sometimes even hatred. But not terror. Never terror. Not anymore.

The frightened glances become squints of annoyance or suspicion. The groups of apprentices break up into individual mages, preoccupied with studies with their noses either buried in text or stuck high in the air as they march, not scurry, about the halls.

Because the Tower is their home. And they're determined to not show any fear to something that might as well be a piece of very ugly, very out-of-place, and very uncomfortable piece of furniture.

.X.x.X.

The Templars in the Circle Tower are focused. They have to be. Because the Tower is a dangerous place. And could grow more so at any moment. And they know this. All too well.

Well, except the rookies; they're often excited for their first Harrowing Guard, hoping for a chance at action, instead of pretending to be a statue all day.

By the end of their third or fourth Harrowing, they usually change their minds. Because by then they've usually seen at least one apprentice fail.

And seeing an Abomination being born is not a pretty sight.

Terrifying. Horrifying. Sickening. And multiplying a mage's power and danger over ten-fold.

It's the solid, undisputable proof that any Templar would ever need to see to permanently back his beliefs

And it had been seen quite a few times.

But eventually, the Templars adjust. They get over the nightmares. The shakes. The constant idea that, if something, anything, were to go wrong, they could find themselves locked away in an isolated stone tower in the middle of the lake with nothing but soul-and-flesh-eating demons for company.

Because that won't happen. Not if they do their jobs right.

Still, it's better not to trust them from the start. Because maybe, just maybe they'll turn out of be a Blood Mage. And then, they'll throw all your trust and friendliness back in your face. Or worse, use it to manipulate you, your friends, whatever.

Because Blood Mages are tricky like that.

So, the templars treat all mages that way; like they were blood mages. Or demons. Or something very slimy and unpleasant and quite possibly poisonous.

Because for all they know, that's exactly what the mages are.