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Cullen: A Fictional Narrative

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Faelan woke with his heart pounding as he was dragged from his bed by unseen, unyielding hands. He tried to cry out, but he could hardly breathe past the cold metal gauntlet covering his nose and mouth. His heart drummed in his ears and behind his eyes, almost drowning out the quiet shuffle and clank of armor as his captors dumped him on the ground of the corridor outside the apprentice dormitories. He blinked in the sudden light, scrabbling on sleep slowed limbs as he stared up into the featureless gray helmets of the Tower templars. Maker no! He’d noticed some extra scrutiny lately, but he thought he’d manage to put them off by continuing to be wholly unremarkable. Talented, but not too talented. Neither attractive nor unattractive. Obedient but not too obedient. He thought he was safe.

“Shh. Shhh. It’s alright. Stand back.”

Faelan flinched when he felt a heavy hand on his …show more content…

Cullen was new, fresh from the Chantry. All the mages had mental lists of the worst Templars to avoid, but Faelan hadn’t expected this kind of behavior from him. The self-righteous superiority of any man who dedicated his life as a jailor for those guilty of nothing more than the accident of their birth, yes, but he hadn’t seemed intentionally cruel.

“I apologize, we didn’t mean to frighten you. We just needed to get you out of the dormitory before anyone else woke up.”

He wouldn’t be the first mage to disappear during the night. Sometimes they returned; sometimes not. Sometimes the templars said they were transferred to another Circle. Sometimes the templars said nothing at all.

“Why? What-,” his voice cracked, “What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m sorry. I really can’t tell you anything except to come with us.” He looked Faelan over. He was still shaking as the adrenaline worked through his system, but his breathing had slowed to almost normal, his eyes still large behind his hair but no longer panic-wide. “Can you stand

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