The Preserve, Friday Afternoon

[not_every_mage]

Anders muttered to himself as he came upon a clearing in the preserve. (It was one of Nathan's old favorites, chosen on the theory there had to be some memory of magic and power in the ground itself.) He'd brought supplies for a few days away with him: a small satchel of clothes jostled against the staff on his back, and Lachlan meowed from a makeshift sling on his chest.

But the knife in his hand was demanding more of his attention than the cat.

He knew he had to try the thing he'd come to the clearing to do. Blood magic was the only thing he'd looked at that offered even the faintest glimmer of a chance to get him to Kathy’s zombie-ridden version of Los Angeles. But throwing out all he'd heard about dealing with demons, about the risk of becoming an abomination -- it wasn't coming easily.

He closed his eyes and found a rock to sit on, trying to calm his nerves. He almost gave up on this whole mad scheme, but Kathy's words rang through his mind.

I'm so damn scared. I need you. I wish--I wish you were here with me. That you hadn't left me behind.

He'd left her. Now he had to go get her. And if dealing with a demon was what it took, so be it.

He prayed for forgiveness as he raised the blade to his palm.

Cassandra	Anders had gone mad. At least, that was the conclusion to which Cassandra had come; he had given in to whatever madness drove mages to drown the world in fire and blood, and she was not concerned with the whys as much as the wheres and the whats for reasons she felt were blindingly obvious. Most blood mages chose to do their bloody work outdoors, preferably where they could be hidden. (Forests seemed to draw them out, for whatever reason. Perhaps it was some long-lost connection to the Dalish. She did not know, nor did she particularly cared.) The preserve was therefore her first destination, and as it turned out she was - for some value of the word - lucky. She supposed she should not be surprised that Anders was foolish enough to try this right on their doorstep. At the first sign of blond hair, she turned and went, footsteps loud. She didn't care if he heard her. She was on a mission. Sword drawn, just in case it came to be necessary. She shoved a large branch aside violently. "Mage," she snarled. "Cease this at once!"
Anders	Well, this was just fucking perfect. Cassandra had barely spoken to him for months, and now she decided to show up. "No," Anders said as he dropped his knife, and if Cassandra was looking closely at him she might have been alarmed by his flat voice and dead eyes. Not that she would have had much time to contemplate those things anyhow, what with how quickly Anders had his staff out and was aiming a giant bolt of spirit energy straight at the Seeker. He figured either it'd kill her, or she'd try to kill him for doing it. Either seemed better than where he was.
Cassandra	Maker. He had lost his mind. Cassandra's eyes widened, but she was not unprepared. Her armor had been built specifically to withstand such spells-- and there was only one way to deal with an attacking mage. So she did the only thing her training called for: she barreled straight into the blast, feeling it strike her armor-- and then glance off, leaving her with nothing more than perhaps a few bruises. It had not knocked her off her course any; she was inbound for a direct tackle-charge at Anders. ...Did he know any spells against human battering rams? Because he'd need them in three, two...
Anders	... one. Anders tried to slash out at the charging girl with his staff, but the blow only glanced off her armor. He went down on his back and rolled, curling his body to protect Lachlan. "I'm holding my cat, Cassandra," he said peevishly, once he'd caught his breath. (He did not have a human battering ram spell, as it happened.) "At least let me put Lachlan down before we go back to it."
Cassandra	T"You should have thought of that before you decided to use blood magic, you short-sighted, despicable--" Cassandra's curse dovetailed into a snarl. She righted herself, sword arm outstretched. "There will be no 'going back to it'. I have tolerated you here long enough. I will not let you summon demons to this island. You are done."
Anders	Anders slowly got back to his feet, brushing grass off his clothes and glaring as if he were trying to come up with a really good insult. Nothing came to his mind. Nothing but two words: I'm tired. He didn't have the appetite for this fight. Either he was going to lose, or he'd win in a way that would damn him twice over -- as a murderer, and as a blood mage. But most likely, he was going to lose. Surrendering meant he might at least keep his life for the moment. "Fine," he said wearily. "I'm yours. Do whatever you're going to do."
Cassandra	He would not win. She was more than ready to set his blood aflame if he forced her hand. For a moment, Cassandra's hand clenched around her sword. She would not claim to be proud of it later, but for one, mad moment, her eyes tripped over the sight of the knife on the ground and she thought of Anthony and she badly just wanted to end Anders right here for even considering it-- it was not as if anyone would know, or care to ask, or-- "You are coming with me," she said evenly, her grip relaxing. "Your Circle of Magi will decide what to do with you. I have let you run around unchecked for far too long." She walked to him, peeling some rope out of a pouch on her belt.
Anders	"Ah," Anders said, bowing his head. So it was back to the Circle. Two years of freedom, ended in -- this. He wanted to vomit, and he wasn't sure whether it was because of the idea of the Circle, because of all he'd lost lately, or because he'd been bare moments from summoning a demon -- an idea that horrified him almost as much as it did Cassandra. All three, really. "You don't look as though you want to hear why I was doing this," he observed, folding his hands behind his back as a bid for time. "Aren't you even a little bit curious?"
Cassandra	"The elf said you lost someone and you had some ridiculous plan about returning to her," Cassandra said. She walked around, found Anders' folded hands and began the process of wrapping the rope around his wrists. "My knowing this is the only reason you are alive right now."
Anders	"Damn it, Merrill," Anders sighed in a low voice, but couldn't blame the elf too much. He didn't think she was capable of deliberate malice, and he hadn't actually told her not to tell anyone. Maybe Cassandra was right, anyhow. Maybe he was ridiculous, and a menace. In a more conversational tone, he added, "Oh. Well, that's ... not wrong, then. I just had to make sure you didn't think I'd started trying to bind spirits because I got bored."
Cassandra	"If I did, we would not be speaking." She tightened the rope with a harsh pull that was likely harder than it needed to be. "But since this appears to be some fit of adolescent foolishness--" Not that she wasn't an adolescent herself, but that wasn't the point, "--I am giving you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps Kinloch Hold will find some use for you." Cassandra reached for his shoulder and gave it a shove. "Or they will make you Tranquil, or they will kill you. This depends on how seriously you intend to take the size of your lapse and your intended crime."
Anders	Anders caught his breath, but otherwise didn't give Cassandra the satisfaction of acknowledging the rough treatment. He started walking at an easy pace once his hands were secured. "Sounds lovely," he said, with heavy sarcasm. Death almost seemed to be the least bad option on that particular list, but he wasn't going to tell Cassandra that, either, lest she decide to help him along. "But love isn't adolescent. Are you saying you wouldn't do anything you could if it meant Face's life?"
Cassandra	"If it was a choice between abandoning all I care for and believe in, or losing Garik, I would choose my duty," Cassandra snapped. "The rest of the world does not simply cease mattering because you are in pain. Only a child believes so." She could still take him to the causeway and take it from there, she believed. Or would she have to call Portalocity? She would figure it out eventually.
Anders	A shadow of real pain crossed Anders' face. "You sound like Kathy," he said. "She used different words, but she died because she thought her duty was more important than her own life -- and certainly much more important than her own happiness." He noticed they were headed to the Causeway, but he didn't particularly care. One way off the island was about as good as another.
Cassandra	"Then you have dishonored her memory by doing this," Cassandra said. "I would suggest you think about that, rather than attempting to sway me to the righteousness of your cause." Which he would not do.
Anders	Anders thought about it silently for a long moment, caught between his sneaking suspicion Cassandra might be right and the desperation he'd seen in Kathy's eyes in the Fade. He couldn't have ignored it. "Will you at least let me call someone so people know I left?" he asked, trying to remember to be practical. Trying not to hurt people any more than seemed inevitable. "I should leave my phone with you after that, too. It's no use to me at home." He did not offer to leave Lachlan. Lachlan was staying with him.
Cassandra	"No," Cassandra said. "I believe you have done quite enough damage. If someone must know, I will speak to them." Which would no doubt go down well. But she didn't trust Anders even the inch she'd given him before, now. It wasn't far to the Causeway now.
Anders	"Fine," Anders sighed. He doubted his friends would take the news well, but he wasn't exactly swarming in friends these days anyhow. "Have fun with that." He glanced along the road, realizing how soon they'd be gone. "Could I have a bathroom break?" he asked, unable to resist his temptation to poke at an authority figure. "You need to at least let me say goodbye to indoor plumbing."
Cassandra	He did not get a verbal answer. Rather, Cassandra shoved him rather harshly forward across the road. "Ugh."
Anders	"Fine, I'll just hold it," Anders said with forced cheer. And then, as they got to the causeway and the full gravity of the situation hit him, he didn't say anything more. He was too busy trying to memorize every corner of the island in case he never saw it again. He hoped, somehow, Kathy would know that he tried.

[OOC: Annnnd that’s it for Anders on the island for now. Preplayed with seekstruth. NFB, NFI.]