"You'll be missed dearly Domitianus. You are sure you won't change your mind?" Inquired the fellow Magister. Domitianus raised his hand before giving his answer. "I have made up my mind. Ostagar is in need of help."
"What concern is it to you though? We have not cared about the King in so long, we are safe from all the Darkspawn. Why help them?" Though Domitianus knew why he was headed to Ostagar, he knew that the other Misters wouldn't understand. They didn't understand charity unless it benefited them in some way.
"I'm doing it for my research. Imagine the fortune and funding I'll receive from the King? The amount of gold and jewels, slaves even!" Domitianus exclaimed with false cheer clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Either way, I should finish packing. My work needs to be packed." Saying goodbye once more, he leads his colleague out the door and returns to his study to resume packing. Even if his slaves could do it for him, his wife, Allena had always told him that doing some hard work would benefit him. Even after she was gone, he preferred to a little hard work, and packing was one of them.
"You were going to leave without saying goodbye to me?" A voice whispered softly and a hooded figure ghosted out from the darkest corner of the room. Long pale fingers pull back the hood to reveal a crooked smile and crimson red eyes. Domitianus shook his head before looking towards the intruder and smiling. "It's good to see you again Janer. I had not heard of your return." The man named Janer shook his own head and walked towards Domitianus, hugging the taller man.
"I returned only recently, but you are a sight for sore eyes dear brother. I believe you have not left this place since your wife and daughter joined the Old Gods. Many apologies and my eternal condolences since I was not here to attend their wake and burial." Janer bowed his head and looked to his friend with apologetic eyes. Domitianus frowns at the mention of his deceased family and purses his lips before changing the subject.
"Have tea with me. Let us talk." Soon the two were seated in front of the study's fireplace, sipping tea in silence and even eating small cookies which the chef had made earlier that day. Both men sat in silence, neither talking and it was almost unbearable for Domitianus because even if the presence of an old friend was welcome, he was wary of the conversation that would follow. Janer was always close with him, always open and sharing. They had been close friends ever since Domitianus rise to Magister.
"So why are you her Janer?" Domitianus asked.
"Other than to ask the question that all other Magisters have asked before I; Why are you leaving?" Janer asks as he pours himself another fresh cup of tea.
"And you will receive the answer that I have given each once of them; the funding, the research and the reward." Domitianus counters easily. He would not give in so easily to the Magister he called friend.
"Yet what you tell me is a lie. You have no need for rewards. No need for any of that. If anything, this is about Allena and you daughter Samantha."
"My wife-"
"You're dead wife." Janer interjects.
"My wife, and daughter have nothing to do with me leaving. I needed funding for my research. You know about my studies for finding a way to get rid of the infection the Blight creates."
"Yes of course, the research I heard that you took up as soon as your family was ill, and then dedicated your life to once they passed on. You can't like to me Domitianus." Janer stares at his friends with hard eyes, he was not going to let his friend off the hook that easily.
"So you have come here to accuse me that I am leaving to forget my family?"
"No, I am accusing you of choosing a dream that won't come true. I feel like you're going to end up dying out there, trying to fulfill something that won't happen." Janer says wit concern in his voice. It was something Domitianus hadn't heard in years.
It's then that Domitianus stops and thinks about who he is really doing this for. His family that is long gone and never to return? Or is he doing this for himself? To make up for the fact that he's hurt so many and now he can help them. His confusion can be read clearly by Janer, and he's about to speak when a slave interrupts him.
"Master, we leave at dawn. We have only a few hours left. Might I suggest finishing packing?" Both Janer and Domitianus shoot glares across the way, causing the slave to retreat. It's then Domitianus stands and looks to his friend.
"I suppose we must end our conversation old friend."
"Then I must wish you luck on your journey." Janer stands, pulls his hood up before walking towards the exit of the study. He is only stopped by Domitianus words.
"I do not know why, my brother, simply that I must." It hands in the until Janer responds.
"May the old Gods be with you then."
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After two weeks of travel. Domitianus was weary. He had not walked so far since his younger years and even so, he had not traveled as far as Ostagar. Sitting at the camp next to the fire, Domitianus pulled out his notebook and reread his notes. He'd been studying the effects of the Darkspawn blood on human blood, but now that he was traveling outside of the Imperium, he no longer had any slaves to study on, he was limited towards the single slave he had brought with him and the notes he know held in his hands.
"Master, perhaps you should rest your eyes and fill your stomach. I have prepared the stew." Merran inquired as he held a small bowl of food. He was the single slave that Domitianus had brought with him. Merran was a slave who was male, a human and had been Domitianus' property since the young age of ten. Though he never bothered with learning the ages of his slaves, Merran had been there when Domitianus' family had been stayed. Merran had helped him through the loss and worse. But it did not make them close in any way. Domitianus would not be kind to his slave just because it had done its job.
"Thank you Merran. I'll take it now." Once handed the bowl, Merran grabbed his own bowl and sat on the other side of the fire. In silence they both ate only the sound of the crackling fire and sounds of wild life in the distance. The stew was nothing compared to the one his daughter used to cook and it seemed that Merran was thinking in the like.
"Lady Samantha cooks better than I."
"Cooked Merran. She cooked better than you. In fact she did a lot of things better than you Merran. She was a superior mage, a skilled alchemist and was a better cook than you ever will be." Domitianus growled, "Make the mistake again and I promise I'll use you as a blood sacrifice in battle." It was an empty threat, if only because Domitianus needed his slave to help him with his work and studies. But Merran didn't know that, he wasn't intelligent enough to realize that.
"I apologize Master." The small apology floats in the air between them but Domitianus doesn't accept it. Instead, they eat in silence once more and rest for the days to come.
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Domitianus had used his superiority as a Magister several times to get what he wanted, but after weeks of traveling and not getting anywhere near Ostagar, he now used his power to purchase several slaves, a cart which was already covered with fine silks and such. He promptly placed himself inside the cart and ordered the rest of the slaves to take him to Ostagar. Many would have considered this cruel, many would sneer and spew hate, but as a Magister, so was his right to do with his slaves as he wished. Not like he cared about what others thought, but it always amused him to see the reactions.
Upon entering the camp he was greeted with several stares and even glares from other mages. In fact, he swore a sister of the Chantry even gave him a bad look. But he continued on until he found a comfortable spot. He ordered the larger, stronger slaves to guard the camp, whilst the smaller ones being bath water, start cooking and set up small shelters for the other slaves. As Domitianus settled in, he watched as a man who he could only assume was a fair trained warrior. That and from his dark skin, he could only assume was Rivaini. As he approached the man, staff in hand and robes pulled tight, he noticed the group of people who had gathered around. Frowning, he stood outside of the group, not wanting to interrupt anything in case it was important. The man addressed himself as Duncan of the Grey Wardens. The Grey Wardens, an organization of great warriors who fought the Darkspawn. So was that who these group of people were, Grey Wardens? They did not wear that garb that Grey Wardens wore at all. Domitianus simply frowned, and stood back, far enough that he would not be included, but close enough to wear the conversation could still be audible to him.
