Details

Personality

Aesthetic

Past

Summary

Born into a regular sheep farmer’s household in the Anderfels, Maxen seemed normal. And so did his younger brother, Silas, when he was born eight years later.

Maxen had recently turned thirteen when he discovered his magical capabilities. His hands could shoot fire and at night, he had strange dreams of creatures that promised him riches and power but the young lad never had a thirst for any of the empty words that were offered to him. Knowing full well what was done to mages, Maxen said nothing to anyone about his dreams or the elements that danced at his fingertips when he was by himself.

However, when he was at the ripe age of 15 years old, his brother displayed his own talents for magic. Right in front of their magic-fearing mother.

Silas had been playing on the ground, in the sand in front of the house that the Valen family lived in and had happily turned around to their mother, with whom Maxen had been arguing about the cattle out in the fields. Silas had laughed and with no warning, shouted for them to ‘look at this!’ before he triumphantly showed off the beginnings of lightning zapping between his fingers.

His mother, mortified by all magic and its users, screamed and jumped up from the stool she’d been sitting on. Maxen’s heart ran cold at the sight, his eyes glancing at Rothaide as she scrambled to get as far away as possible from her youngest son. The sight was enough to know what had to be done. Being an older brother, he knew that his duty was to protect his sibling, no matter the cost. He had been there when Silas had entered the world and he would be damned by the Maker himself if he’d let anything happen to the seven year old boy.

“Get the Templars! Maxen, go! Go get them!” She had yelled, he remembers that clearly even now.

Instead of following her orders, he had wordlessly shot forward and grabbed Silas, lifting him up and clutching the young boy to his own still growing body. The teenager hadn’t looked back even as he ran from the only home he had ever known and his screeching mother. The only thing that mattered to him was Silas’ life; he refused to hand it over to the Templars. And he was sure that he himself would get found out at some point anyway, so his reasons to leave weighed heavier than the ones to stay did.

The two brothers were on their own for a long while. Maxen made sure to keep them both away from civilization as much as possible for fear that word had spread around. The templars would surely be looking for the two of them. Crossing the border was essential and so that was all on the teenager’s mind as he explained to Silas what he knew about magic, what he had found out himself or what he had overheard from random strangers in the streets. It wasn’t much, but he figured every bit helped.

For a seven year old, Maxen was impressed with how well Silas seemed to understand that they could never be found out as mages.

Years passed and the Valen brothers managed to scrape by, travelling the continent and introducing themselves with different names in many different towns.

It wasn’t until a tragic accident occurred in Nevarra that Silas and Maxen were finally separated. Silas, at fifteen, had been used to their way of living. He had been practising his lightning tricks for years, had gotten quite good at them even. Steadily, though, it had become a habit to make use of his magic while Maxen and he were out in the wilderness by themselves. And prior to the incident, the two of them had spent weeks by themselves out there.

So when Silas had been wandering the stands in the marketplace, his mind wandering and falling behind Maxen, he had relied on his habits. Someone had bumped into him, which in and of itself wasn’t an issue. Silas had apologized, had attempted to step past the drunk man, but had found himself at the sharp end of a knife instead.

Maxen had heard the growing commotion and, having no idea that his cocky younger brother was involved, turned around to see what was going on. Just in time to be confronted with a shock of lightning followed by gasps and yells. Silas looked pale amongst the crowd and even paler when he was seized by the guards and dragged off and away. Maxen had moved in his direction only to falter when he realised there was nothing he could do; not in the middle of town. The two brothers caught each other’s gaze and Silas’ had been teary-eyed. The elder brother was silent as he usually was, but the nature of it was different this time. His eyes widened slightly when he spotted the lifeless body on the ground. Ah. Well, his brother’s fate was sealed then.

Still desperate to find out if maybe his assumptions had been wrong, that his predictions had been way off the mark, Maxen had stuck around. He had tried to get inside the Circle of Magi, to see his brother. He had tried asking some of the Templars. With no success.

It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of Silas in a window that his fears were confirmed; the teenager’s eyes and features were void of any emotion and the symbol on his forehead took away any further doubt.

Maxen was saddened and furious; a nasty mix of emotions. He vowed then and there, that he would find the way to restore the cut thread to the Fade so that he could bring his brother back. No matter the cost, time or price.

Then started his search for power and knowledge. Blood magic was added to his abilities and he used it often as he travelled, chasing any scraps of hope. Any elven ruin, any old book.

Along his travels, Maxen had acquired many skills and much knowledge but none that would help the Tranquil. Often, he would encounter people that sought solutions to their own problems and Maxen found himself often offering help in exchange for something useful for himself. He used his forbidden magic to fulfill promises or trick people into believing him, only for him to cut and run.

Promises were easy to make and sometimes the best way to get what he wanted was to make one such promise.

He learned how to present himself in a way that pleased people, he learned how to make deals and he learned how to ignore the demon that stuck around him.

In Orlais, Maxen finds himself in the company of another apostate. He isn’t sure how it happened, but Colette and he stick together for a good while. She thinks the world of him and it matters very little to the blood mage. Maxen is not interested in her romantic pursuit, even when he notices that she has convinced herself that there is romance between them. Finding it easy, however, to see her blindly do whatever he requests of her, Maxen knows he should make use of the situation. Colette helps him with utter devotion; she dedicates herself to his goals and learns how to use blood magic from him.

However, when Maxen realises she isn’t worth much to him after all and instead is becoming more of a chore to keep around; her obsession with him getting tiresome. He tells her honestly that he never much cared for her and that he is taking his leave and moving on with his travels.

Understandably, Colette is dismayed by this sudden ‘change of heart’. In her mind, after all, there is most definitely no reason for Maxen to leave her. They were in love, after all. They were. They are. Weren’t they? Aren’t they? She finds only indifference in his demeanor when she demands answers to her confusion and heartbreak. Colette watches Maxen leave but she convinces herself that he’ll take her back if she persists. So she follows him a few days later, dedicating herself to a new goal: finding Maxen again. He knows, hears about an Orlesian asking about a man just like him, but it bothers him none. As long as it doesn’t get him found out by the Chantry and she stays out of his way, he doesn’t care what she does.

As time passes even further, Maxen meets another apostate who seems more than interested to use his knowledge and combine their blood magic to perform a ritual which should grant them everlasting youth. The woman reminds him slightly of Colette but Matill shows very easily that she does not take his ‘shit’ as she had so eloquently put it. It takes them a while, in which they fall in the antagonising type of love. Eventually, they do what Matill wants; they find a way to stop their aging.

At this point, the two have gotten quite used to having each other around and though he is loath to admit it, Maxen does not want to be rid of her. After an.. interdimensional incident, he even finds himself able to admit that he does love Matill and with most of their animosity gone, they find themselves married not much later.