Neil knew it was a few minutes past curfew, but he’d been too absorbed in his reading to notice until a Templar mentioned it. Thankfully, that particular Templar let him off easy. He gathered his things and hurried down the hall to his room. Maker, why had they put him so far from the bloody library of all things? Neil turned a corner and ran right into the metal chest-plate of another Templar. Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.
Hawke and Ser Rylon weren’t on friendly terms in the least bit, even for a templar and mage. Neil hated the man, and he was fairly certain the sentiment was returned. Hawke took a step back, hoping that he could just walk past the man. Rylon grabbed him by the arm, holding him in place. “Where do you think you’re going, mage, and past curfew?”
“I was going back to my room, Ser Rylon. I am well aware it’s past curfew, even though it’s only a few minutes or so. If you’d let me go I’ll go back to my room.” Some bite entered his voice; it was late in the night and he really didn’t like Rylon. The next thing he knew, Rylon had him pinned against the wall.
“You don’t make the rules here, mage. You do as the Templars say. If I tell you to get on your knees and lick my boots, you do it. If I tell you to get your worthless hide back to your room, you do it. You do not give me commands,” the Templar growled right in his face.The smart thing to do would be to simply agree and let Rylon have his way. But Neil had been at the mercy of the Templars for over ten years now. After Kinloch, his patience was wearing dangerously thin. The fantasies of escaping the Gallows occupied more of his thoughts every day. Templars like Ser Rylon just added more fuel to the fire.
“I didn’t realize the Maker had returned to us,” the mage replied, bitterness adding venom to his words, “We should inform the Chantry at once.” As expected, that earned him a hard punch to the gut. What he didn’t expect was two more following the first. The third sent Hawke to his knees. Something was definitely bruised. He hissed as Rylon grabbed a fist-full of hair and jerked his head up.
“It’s mages like you who corrupt the world, you know? You’re too prideful...” the wicked grin on the Templar’s face made Neil freeze, “But we have ways of fixing that, don’t we? I think it would be best for the whole Circle and yourself if you were Tranquil, wouldn’t you agree, mage?”