Fleeing the circle was already hard enough, fleeing Redcliffe as well, but the blight only made it ten times harder. Perhaps he should stop picking up others fleeing as well. A mage could be a devastating adversary if they so wish, unfortunately for him he never had the ideal ability to keep that control and focus- especially not when looking after five others hiding behind him. If he fell then they would be ripped apart just the same, horrible motivation but it had to do. What was a little fear, right? A lot of fear actually.
As one darkspawn shattered from the impact of the stone hurled at it, three more would take it’s place charging forward. His eyes moving back and forth between the archers behind and their “frontline”, desperation tugging at his mind. Blood magic could solve this all so quickly, but he would ruin his chance, his new “life” and the trust in him by those he was protecting. IF they lived then it would be worth it, maybe? The thoughts cut off as well as his focus on his next spell as a vaguely familiar figure cut in, whipping his head toward the sound of more approaching- oh... Well, just his luck wasn’t it. Saved again by his old friend and the better mage. He could stew later he thinks, helping kill the remaining monsters.
As the last falls his fear changes from dying at darkspawn hands to the choice given to him, this new attempt at life, being taken back.
❝You... Thank you, firstly. You haven’t... changed you mind, have you? I’m doing good now, I haven’t done anything.❞
