Hate at first sight

Matill hated dingy areas, especially if they were littered with blood and other vile substances. Of course a ruined circle tower wasn’t well kept over the years, but to see it in such a state was rather surprising. The chantry did love to have their circles pristine, but an old memory of a blight that had since passed was allowed to live on in it’s ruined state. The woman had already made her way up to the second floor, it had been said that the Hero of Ferelden herself had been tempted by demons in these very halls. But Matill wasn’t her to be tempted, she was here to tempt. Well more specifically bind a spirit, or at least make contact with one. She had been wanting to speak to the one that plagued her dreams, but it seemed that when she was awake and in touch with the fade, it wouldn’t show its face to her. How annoying. She stretched her thin body, her staff retrieved from her back as she grabbed some books from her bag. Spreading them out she was quick to put up a ward, one that could harm a demon if she chose to do so. Mostly for her own protection, dying early really didn’t fit in her grand scheme of things. The blonde placed her staff firmly onto the ground, standing up as she began to cast. Blue light emanating from her hands, staff and eyes. Her hair began to gently move as the power that came off her spell was strong enough to move her surroundings, but within a blink of an eye it was gone. She had messed up the spell again, the blue light was fleeting and her expression was one of anger. Biting her lip she almost threw her staff to he ground, deciding instead to softly drop it. Lothar would’ve known what to do. Sighing, she sat for a moment, just trying to regain her composure.

Maxen had in all his time of being a mage, never been inside a circle tower. An apostate his whole life, he had never dared to venture too close to one either but as it were, he knew that there were books in those circles. Knowledge that was kept hidden, even from its mages, surely. Something to be found there. Perhaps, knowing more about Tranquility would bring him closer to the answer to reverse it. The mage knew many things, but truthfully, the one thing he sought to cure, he knew nothing more of than what others speculated. It severed you from the Fade. But how? Maxen had made his way to the abandoned tower; after the Blight there had been no efforts to return to this particular Circle and restore it. And now with the general unrest abrewing, well... Who had time for such a thing? The apostate shouldn't have issues trying to get in. It was frankly disgusting; all the dried blood and rubble. Maxen tried to pay no mind to it and merely stepped over it all to get up the stairs. As he climbed up, looking for a library of sorts, he saw a blue light emenate from a room which intrigued him. He took his staff from his back, holding it securely as he approached the source of the light. He hesitated only for a moment before he turned the corner; there was someone here for sure. He only hoped it wasn't a templar. As he turned the corner, however, he was met by the sight of a woman sitting on the floor and looking quite put off. Maxen stayed silent for a moment then, "What spell are you trying to cast?" He asked.

Matill was a little bit thrown off as a voice came from behind her, quickly grabbing her staff as she stood up. “What is it to you?” She spat, her eyebrows low. The man before her seemed to be of the same age, long black hair pulled into a braid. But that wasn’t what kept her attention drawn to her, it was the staff jn his own hands. “Are you an apostate? From this circle?” She asked, her quarterstaff lowered yet her grip on it was ready to strike if it came to it. Her lips were bruised from her biting and her hands dirty and wounded, she had tried her hardest to keep presentable but the circle had offered more challenges to the petite apostate. The whole thing was getting to her and being in a circle of all places was truly not inspiring as much as it would others.

Maxen watched the stranger's hostility with nothing more than a raised brow. Sure she could probably set him aflame or freeze or electrocute him in the blink of an eye, but so could he. Besides, didn't mages usually have some sort of comraderie amongst them? He hummed at the question, shaking his head, "I've never been in a circle tower in my entire life. Safe for now, I suppose." Maxen answered, his gaze following the woman's staff before it returned to her face. Her hair was pale blonde in a way that would be easy to mistake for grey in certain light, he was sure. She seemed to be around his age and her lips seemed like they had seen better times. "So to answer your question; yes I am an apostate. No, not from this Circle or any other Circle." He explained before he gestured at the ward on the ground, "Now, answer my question. What were you trying to cast?"

Matill listened to the other’s words, nodding slowly before placing her staff back on her back. “I see, that’s somehow a relief.” She spoke coldly. She followed his gesture to her ward, raising an eyebrow she stared at the man. “First off, that’s a simple warding glyph.” She replied, “and second a simple fade magic spell.” She lied, her hands still wounded from her own blade. She had made sure that she didn’t need to cut a fresh wound for it to work. “Spirit magic as well, you must know the history of this place.” Matill said, her words still dripping with annoyance of being interrupted. Sure she liked company, but not when she was specifically avoiding it. “What are you doing here?” She asked, moving a hand through her hair, a red streak blending in with her blonde hair. Cursing to herself she wiped her hand on her skirt, letting out frustrated growl at herself. This is so useless, doing magic without assistance or being in the right mind was truly more of an hassle then it’s worth.

"Why do you need a warding spell." Maxen stated, "For a simple spell?" He asked, putting the point of his staff on the floor before he ever so slightly leaned on it, mostly to create the illusion that he was non-threatening. His eyes were observant as she moved and spoke. The blood was easy to spot and at the sight of it he couldn't keep a quiet snort at bay. He shook his head a little, "You needn't lie to me." He told her as he stood back up properly, shrugging his shoulders. "I was just wondering if you needed any help. That spell didn't work and it's obvious. So either you're not very talented to be messing up simple spells, or you are unwilling to tell me the truth. Either way, if you need help, I'll be around." The apostate said. "Don't suppose you'd know where they keep their forbidden books, do you?"

“Why wouldn’t I? Anyone could sneak up on me.” She frowned, feeling slightly more at ease when the man spoke to her. He was handsome, but the apostate tried her hardest not to let that influence her opinion of him. Shit, he saw the blood. “I don’t?” She said a bit bitter, remembering all the times someone said to her that it was alright not to lie, only to stab her in the back. She scoffed, to think the man would even imply she wasn’t talented. “I can assure you I am talented.” She removed the ward with a simple twirl of her finger, “I’ll call you when I do.” Pointing to one of the back chests, she looked at him with a small smile. “Grand enchanted kept them in there, even took my romance literature when I was a teen.” She sighed, retrieving a flask of Lyrium as she chugged it, breaking it on the floor as she felt herself replenish.

Her demeanor would be annoying at other times, surely, but the confidence could only make Maxen smirk. He shook his head a little as he listened to her, glancing off to the side briefly before he looked back when she pointed. He nodded his head in thanks as he went into the room. "So you were a mage here?" He asked as he walked past her. He had seen the blood and by her snark, he was well aware that she knew that he had seen. It made the dance a little more interesting. "A circle mage claiming to be talented but messing up a 'simple' spell... How odd." Maxen said as he reached the chest, inspecting it with a small frown. Surely, what he was looking for wouldn't be in here. But a peek couldn't hurt.

She pushed her hair back, looking over at the man sauntering over to the chest. “I was, not to say I enjoyed it here.” Matill frowned, redrawing one of the symbols she had placed with her pointer finger. Stopping every so often to take a look at what she had already done. “It seems you have a mouth that doesn’t stop.” Matill sighed, “ever thought of putting it to better use then annoying another apostate?” She spoke with a small smile forming on her face. “The chest holds what you were looking for I am pretty sure, if you are able to look at my simple spell without distain.” She once again closed her eyes, letting a small flow of her mana flow out her palms before it channeling from her staff, Matill was taking it slow. Her temper and impatience getting the best of her before, and now with this stranger here she needed to show off. Not to impress him, but to show him just how great she was. She was breathing slowly as her entire body seemed to glow a bright blue, before shifting to a dark red. She could swear she heard something call out to her in her state, someone from beyond the fade. She pitched in focussing more, whispering. “Who are you?” A soft low grumble could be heard, Matill felt herself get angry as she had once again stumbled upon a mere desire demon. Sighing loudly she broke the spell off again, such a waste. She felt her temper get the best of her, kicking the glass shards away from her.

"Mayhaps." Maxen merely replied, deciding that he probably did say too much already. He glanced over his shoulder at her, his expression returning to its resting scowl. He suppressed his urge to roll his eyes and simply turned back to the chest. He leaned down and pried it open after breaking the lock with the tip of his staff while the stranger did what she wanted to do. Trying to contact a spirit? A fool's errand often times once you've used blood magic. The Fade's connection to mages like them was much weaker as a price for their new power. She would only attract demons. Maxen rummaged through the books, sighing at all the diaries and romance novels he found there. Nothing on Tranquility or anything else interesting. He grumbled and got back up, turning to watch as the woman broke her spell and generally acted like a lectured child. The apostate stayed silent for a moment, letting her have her anger before he spoke up. "That was your intention?"

Of course the man was back, looking at her while she was annoyed to say the least. Her hands in tight fists. “Of course it wasn’t.” She rolled her eyes, “I keep getting demons of desire, it is not what I want.” She felt her heartbeat quicken at her rising anger. “How hard is it to get a creature that doesn’t tempt some stupid trivial desire.” She ranted on, her lips pulled in a scowl. “I need a break, you still in the need for forbidden books?” She sighed, putting her staff on her back before leading him to one of the back shelves of the library, lighting the torch beside it with veil fire, the bookcase shifted just enough to fit a person through it, it leaded down, presumably more than one floor. “This leads to the hidden storage of the circle, staffs, tomes all kinds of stuff. We used to be told that if you stole from it you’d be punished so harshly that you wouldn’t even think about doing it again.” She sounded bitter, gesturing over to the man to follow her. “But no one is here anymore, so if you’ll follow me.” Her hips swaying as she made her way down the stairs with her temper fading, be it slow. “So forbidden books? About what?”

"Of course it wasn't." He confirmed, just to spite her a little bit. "You do realise we blood mages can barely make contact with the Fade as is, yes?" Maxen said, only after she had started walking and led him to the true kind of books he needed. As a payment, of sorts, he considered it. "The only things still attracted to us are demons, so if it's a spirit you're after, it won't be easy." The man said off-handedly as glanced about. He ignored the question at first, just following her down the stairs until he sighed, "Anything new, really. Things they don't want us to know, I'd like to try."

“Do you do anything else but be spiteful?” She snarled at him, the anger in her tummy flaring. “We blood mages, hm?” She sighed, “Great another one here to lecture me, as if I am not aware.” She had come across many apostates that were also training in the craft, lecturing her on her attempts to use blood magic. Matill was a tiny blonde Fereldan woman, most men did not take her seriously which made it even more satisfying to outsmart them. “As it come to your attention that I might be seeking a demon?” She sighed, reaching the bottom of the stairs. Walking around the library of artifacts before leaning down to one of the chests she remembered from her time, where she first found the book that intrigued her to explore other magic’s. “Look in here.” Curling her finger at him, gesturing him to come over. “Most of books on hidden magic are in here, some about seekers if I seem to remember correctly.” She looked around, noticing some old phylacteries left from when the circle fell. Smirking, she retrieved the flasks from the shelf before shattering them in the corner of the room.

"Not really." Maxen answered with a shrug. He walked with her though as she continued to speak, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at her words. If she didn't want his help, well, it was no skin off his back. "Suit yourself." The mage said, "It matters very little to me." When they reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the library, Maxen followed her lead still and went for the chest. He opened it, brushing off some of the collected dust and inspected the books inside. He flipped through some pages, finding some interesting things and put the book in his satchel before he moved on to the next. At the sound of breaking glass, he looked up and glanced at her in the corner but he said nothing of it and continued his search. So far, it looked like a possible lead on tranquility and funnily enough, grey wardens and their magicks. That might help that Cahlin man. Satisfied, Maxen stood up and dusted himself off, "Thank you." He said, "It saved me some time."

“You really are a stoic type, hm?” She said bitter, looking as the man flipped through the books. He put a few of them into his satchel, she couldn’t care less. The sooner the man left the tower so she could have her fucking focus back the better. “No problem.” She smiled, her eyes wrinkling. “What would you do differently, if you were in my shoes, do not antagonize me.” The man was harsh, and Matill hated how it sparked interest. She had been alone for too long, letting her interests overshadow her current goals. She gently laid her hand on his shoulder, a soft touch which she quickly removed. “Unless you are just as untalented as I am.”

Maxen raised a brow at the statement, his glance shifting to her in mild confusion as to why exactly this lady was so hostile towards him. "Not so much stoic as to the point, I've been told." He replied, unwilling to turn this encounter into a pissing competition. He didn't care to find out how talented or untalented this former circle mage was; it simply didn't matter to him. At the semi-question he turned back to face her. After his earlier reply he had turned away to take his leave and go back up the stairs but her words halted him. He paused and looked at her, "That depends on what exactly you are trying to do." He said, rather unfazed by the insult. "What demon do you wish to speak and for what? Might not even need blood for it, if you're using the correct spell. There is an elven ritual-" He started before he stopped himself and offered a tight but polite smile, "Alas, you don't need my help so I shall leave you to it, shall I?"

To the point, it was true but Matill had always preferred it in a more charming manner than what the man was portraying. As the man ranted on she felt a twang of guilt hit her, was he seriously just trying to help her? He stood there unfazed by her short-tempered words, maybe it was for the best. She was just about to apologize when the man smiled at her in a way that made her blood boil once again. “You are just trying to get me to say I need help, most just offer and go through with it.” Matill scoffed, taking a moment to recollect herself she offered the exact same smile back to him. “If you’d please show me what you’ve known.”

"You might recall I did offer you help earlier but you threw my offer back at me." Maxen said simply, his brow slightly cocked. Yes, she was correct in her assumption but in the same breath, she had overstepped. "Can you really fault me now?" He asked, smirking just a little before he forced it away again. The man looked at her for a moment, glancing at the smile before he hummed, "You should know," He said, "I don't do these things for free. Usually..." He mused out loud mostly for himself; it helped him to weigh the pros and cons and price. Perhaps this stranger had already paid him with telling him where the books were... Very well. Maxen straightened up a little then, "Like I said, it's an elven ritual. I've never performed it but I have texts on it. I could make a copy for you, if you'd like."

Matill got annoyed at his behavior, clearly knowing that she was at fault made her upset. She knew she was at fault, but Matill’s pride got in her way. “I’m asking you now though, clearly admitting simple defeat isn’t enough for you?” Matill drawled, the man straighten up, the woman herself stopped her slouching. Brushing her skirt once more to come across more putt together. “The books were not enough?” She asked, one of her eyebrows raising in a questioning fashion. “And how are you going to make this copy?” She asked, walking over to him and his satchel. “So are they in here?” Matill pointed at the bag, creeping closer to the dark-haired man.

"The books are sufficient." Maxen assured her, straining to not let annoyance seep into his voice at this point. What else did this woman want? He was under no obligation to help her or even be civil with her. He was no fool though, he could tell she was prideful and likely she had good reason to be proud. He was yet to see why, though. Save for her appearance. "You're impatient." Maxen said with mild disdain before he waved her hand away, "I will write it for you. Even write out the steps if you need to. All you need for the ritual is the steps and the name of this spirit, be it corrupted or not, so you may call it." He explained. "If that does not satisfy you, there might be one other way I can think of."

It seemed this man and Matill were both too stubborn for their own good, Matill even more so. “Good, I’m glad.” She said, an amused smirk at her hand being swatted away from his shoulder. “What if I am, been out here long enough, searching.” She sighed, the journey of getting somewhere in this whole debacle getting to her. Justice would help her, mages were getting hurt and Justice would be— just? She just needed to find Lothar, to find where the current mage rebellion was hiding out. She would help them, get her friend back and then live a calm normal life with so little as to use her well trained magic, or if the maker would still be so unjust as to keep the mages repressed. They’d offer shelter to young mages, like they’d planned when they were in the circle. “Just to see my options, what are you implying if that doesn’t satisfy me exactly?” She asked, no longer caring if she was getting on his nerves. Deciding that her depleted mana wasn’t helping her mood either, once again retrieving a lyrium flask to replenish it quicker. Everything needed to happen now, or it wouldn’t at all. That made Matill herself rather insufferable in the state she was in, not content and needing change right away.

Maxen's patience truly was starting to run thin with this woman. It was truly a feat on her part; it wasn't often that the apostate felt agitated by someone over such a short period of time. The man sighed in mild annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly before he dropped his hand and turned to face her fully. Seeing her go for another flask of lyrium, he set his jaw briefly before he forced it relax. There was just something about this stranger that ticked him off so perfectly. "I will tell you if the ritual doesn't work." He told her with a small narrowing of eyes. He wasn't about to spill all his knowledge to this... this Circle mage. She was pretty, he noticed that, but was she pretty enough to let her payment for 2 spells be a point at a chest with some books? Surely not. Not unless these books held the answers to everything he questioned. "That is your option."

Matill noticed that the man was completely unraveling in his anger at her, he was careful to not let it show, surely, but Matill knew when she’d pissed a man off. Folding her arms, she moved around the room, thinking. “Sounds like a bad deal to me.” She frowned childishly, “But let’s say I was able to get you what you were looking for, would your proposition change?” Matill was pacing around, the sound of her heeled boots echoing through the mostly empty room. “I am assuming you are not yet satisfied.” It was funny how these things worked, a few months ago she was able to convince anyone to do things for her, but here she was getting riled up and rather enjoying that she was offending someone, getting on their nerves. The Fereldan woman was truly someone you did not want to mess with, but she had gotten good at playing dumb. Sure she had failed contacting spirits, but that was a whole different field. Demons would come to her at night, whispering all sorts of promises but she never did indulge. She had gotten good at ignoring their pulling over her body, finding it easy to be close to a demon without risking possession. A blood mage with barely any risk of possession was powerful, and she knew that. She paused, “Or have offended?”

Maxen watched her move around with a frown, his own nerves getting riled by her constant moving about. He scowled but turned his head away, looking at the set of stairs there. When she was finished, he glanced back at her before he simply started heading for the stairs. He needn't help her. He got what he came here for; he had never expected anything groundbreaking in the first place. And truth be told, he doubted a circle mage could tell him anything he didn't yet know. Even one that had turned to blood magic. "I doubt what I'm looking for is in this place." He said as he walked. Having climbed only two steps, he paused and looked back at her, "You refuse my offer, yes? Come out with it, so I may be on my way."

Matill smiled tightly as the man scowled, how amusing. She raised her hand, gesturing for him to wait up. “I see, a lost cause of a circle hm?” Matill mused before raising her eyebrows and placing her hand on her chest. “No one said anything about refusing, dear.” Matill sang, walking past him ad she crept up the stairs herself. “Was just waiting to see how far you were willing to go, but it seems I’ve pushed too hard.” “So a copy it is them?” She said grinning, shifting her satchel around as they made their ways up the stairs.

At the quick turn around, Maxen could only sigh. Tiresome, to say the least. Tiresome indeed. He watched as the woman approached him and went out in front of him once more. The man was no longer in the mood for smalltalk and so he refused to partake in it any further. The endearment only caused him to roll his eyes, but he kept walking. "Yes." He answered, asking himself if he should even indulge her at this point. Had she not thrown his offer in his face moments earlier? Asking for more when he had given her more than he was sure she deserved... Infuriating. "As a thank you," Maxen explained, "For the books."

Matill smiled, “Wonderful, shall I leave you be by yourself to make said copy or?” Walking around the room they’d previously been in, she grabbed her books from the floor and kicked some of the stuff she had placed down away from her now inactive ward. Deciding to ignore his social cues, Matill immediately returned to his side afterwards. Humming while she stared at the man, breaking her gaze on him only when he stared back. She’d smile, closing her eyes with it when their eyes did meet though.

Maxen hummed briefly at the question, entering the room with a small glance around. "It doesn't matter." He answered truthfully. The mage's gaze searched for a spot to sit in comfortably so he may do this - dare he say generous - service for the stranger who was blatantly getting in his personal space. He caught her eyes, raised an eyebrow at her bipolar behaviour then shook his head dismissively and went over to a knocked over table. He pulled it up with a grunt then dusted off the chair nearby and pulled it to the table. After that, he reached into his satchel and pulled out a candle, lighting it with the flick of his wrist before he produced an empty piece of parchment. "You have ink?" He asked, frowning when he looked at the ink flask he had with him. Clearly he hadn't written in a while; it had completely dried out.

Matill nodded as she opened her satchel, a small ornate flask retrieved from it as she set it down besides him. She gave the ink a look over before removing the cork that closed it. “You do not write much?” She asked, referencing the dried up flask the man had brought himself. “No one to write letters to, I suppose.” She put some distance between them again, walking past the bookcases just to see if she saw a novel or scripture that intrigued her. Matill did not read much, but her nights has become boring without anything or anyone to fill them with.

Maxen inclined his head in thanks as she produced some ink. He dipped his quill in and got to writing. The apostate had taken out the text and now that he had all the tools in order, he started writing to make that copy. In common, rather than the elfish on the original. "No," He answered her question, frowning a little, "I wouldn't know who to." Maxen fell silent again, focusing on his work. He listened as he heard the stranger wander off and eventually, now that his temper had subsided and his scowl had returned to its usual intensity, he broke the silence again. "I've not got mistresses to write heartfelt letters to." He joked quietly, keeping his gaze on the text.

Matill snorted at his attempt at a joke, poking her head from behind the cases. It seemed he had cooled it, all the better for the young woman. She just wanted to tease a bit, like she’d always do. But with her own temper in her way she was rather happy that he decided not to egg her on any further. “Truly? I thought a man like you would have many, with your loving scowl and all.” She laughed, retrieving a book on the shelves about elemental magic, might be a nice refreshment. “So, now that we both seem to have cooled down, were the books your only reason for visiting the circle?” She asked, leaning on one of the pushed over tables that still lay there from many years ago. "It's just my face." Maxen replied to the remark about his scowl. Actually, that wasn't far from the truth. He had been told by Colette many times before that even when he was just relaxing, it would look like he was angry or disgusted by something. The man hadn't exactly known what he was supposed to do with that information, so he hadn't done anything other than acknowledge that it might come off as intimidating or rude. The apostate scrawled the words onto the parchment with precision. The same precision he used in most everything he did. When the woman spoke up again, he hummed briefly before he put the quill down, inspecting the document, "Yes. I just want to know things. That's why I do what I do."

“Truthfully?” She said, a but surprised. “Well if it’s any consolation it suits you, in a good way, not in a broody way.” As he wrote down his notes, Matill impressed by the quickness of his hand - somehow also able to produce fine handwriting. “Just a interest in knowing a lot?” She hummed, looking at the man, who had now neatly finished her copy. “You seem like the smart type, yet I am assuming you have never been in a circle. Am I correct?”

Maxen chose to ignore the sort of compliment. If you could even allow it the grace to call it that. He supposed they'd both be better off if he assumed that she meant it kindly. When he finished the copy, he set down his quill and blew at the wet ink gently, hoping to dry it a little quicker. He remained silent for another moment, inspecting his handywork before he turned his gaze to the woman, "You would be correct, yes. Not for the lack of trying on the authorities' part." The mage said before he slid the piece of parchment towards the other mage.