*Glossary entry

It was a dark and stormy night the day it all began… Actually it was daytime and a little bit overcast, and already three weeks into the excursion, but given the circumstances Luhan didn’t think he could be too overly dramatic in his storytelling. He definitely wished the weather had been moodier though to complement the tale, because this grayish, dull half-light didn’t quite suit his mood. The mood that said Luhan’s life was about to get terribly out of control, and that was saying something because Luhan felt he’d already lived well enough for his twenty-six years of age.

He was a templar,* a newly appointed junior templar to the Circle* Tower at Lake Calenhad, Ferelden.* Two years ago the mages* kept here had been possessed by abominations, many had died, and lots of brave templars - their job to keep mages safe, and from turning crazy - had died as well. At least that’s how the Templar order told the tale. Luhan had looked at the figures once when he visited the office of his Knight-Commander, and scribbled along the edge of a scroll was the actual number of mages dead (twenty-three) and the numbers of templar dead (a grand total of four). And yet the monument erected on the edge of Circle grounds only mourned for the deceased templars, heroic till the end. Mages apparently deserved everything they got. 

Luhan hadn’t been there for that, thank the Maker. As a templar he already thought his life bad enough keeping the mages in line, persuading them in good templar rhetoric that it was for their own safety that all peoples gifted with magical powers be locked up, the better to control their abilities, and contain them when demons managed to overrun their bodies. Luhan never wanted to actually have to witness any of that though, oh no. He had no training for that sort of thing!

Which was why it was oddly comical that he’d been selected as part of this not-so-routine mission: rounding up apostate* mages in the wilds. He’d set out with a party of ten other templars, men more experienced than himself… in the ways of getting out of a task. Four of them managed to invent a dispatch that redirected their party to the inns and taverns at Redcliffe, alone. Two more had decided they really needed to go after them and bring them back into custody, wink wink. 

Those brigands, Luhan complained to himself.

Luhan and the other three had actually managed to capture one of the apostates on their list. The woman was listed as at-large and dangerous. It turned out she was a lost Tranquil* mage, completely harmless, and had no idea where she was, but the remaining three templars insisted she needed a full accompaniment back home. They also insisted there was another encampment listed on their map nearby, and that Luhan would have absolutely no difficulty rounding up the ‘kid’ they were supposed to capture, all on his own.

It was only after they’d left that Luhan read the fine print on his scroll:

Wanted - Xiumin, apostate mage, sole survivor of a blast that blew up his family, probably started by the mage himself. Warning: extremely dangerous.

He also learned that this ‘kid’ hadn’t been a kid in at least fifteen years, and that the regional reports on Xiumin’s mage-at-large activities included a whole host of demonic powers, including but not limited to calling forth ghouls, summoning familiars and, worst of the worst, blood magic.* 

Luhan was going to die, he just knew it. He was barely twenty-six, alone and unloved - if only he'd gotten the courage to kiss the Knight-Commander’s niece at least once, that time when they’d gone for a stroll by the lake... Perhaps if he’d done that, then maybe he could die a little happier, knowing that his lips wouldn’t go down untouched.

“'Do not approach without back-up,'” Luhan read to himself in a whisper. And then he cursed. “Maker’s breath! How I do not want to be here!’ 

The wind seemed to wend faster through the tree branches overhead, and Luhan shushed himself immediately. What if the trees were listening? What if they were spies who could send warning to the apostate and Luhan would die all the more faster?

“Now who’s being stupid, Luhan,” he said to himself, shaking his head. He kept silent thereafter though, just in case nightmares were real and trees could hear. 

He was probably setting himself up for a suicide mission, but there was just the tiniest bit of heroic pride that persuaded him to continue. What if, what if he did capture the apostate alive - in this case, Luhan remaining alive - and dragged him back to the Circle Tower? Then he’d be the big fat hero, and nobody would think twice about doubting his abilities again. He would earn a promotion that much sooner, and have a nice cushy job herding Tranquil around from tower to tower, he could properly court the Knight-Commander’s niece, and life would be a breeze. 

A bug flew past his nose and Luhan held super still, willing down his instincts to flee and run away. It was a grand success, proving that indeed, Luhan could do this.

Less than an hour later he was approaching the mark on his map where Xiumin’s hut was supposed to be. He moved slowly, eyes open and mind alert, ready to defend against any magical attack, should Xiumin be onto him. Templars could do that sort of thing. They were trained to not only resist magic, but to deflect it as well, suppress it. The skill, however, was only as good as a templar’s prowess and mental acuity. And to a good, sustaining supply of Lyrium* potions, but on that Luhan didn’t need to dwell.

Xiumin, focus on Xiumin.

He didn’t have any idea what this person would look like. The records were sketchy, but he was supposed to be around Luhan’s age, because he’d been living in the wild for at least a decade alone. Luhan wondered why no one had come after him yet. Why he happened to have a map with Xiumin’s location, and yet it was only now the templar expedition had set out. 

He imagined the apostate would look as wild as the surrounding woods. Lack of civilization, tasty food, good wine. He’d probably be dirty, hairy and smell like a nugsty. How could a person live out here all alone and not go mad?

The hut he found looked deserted, but speaking of nugs, Luhan immediately noticed a cluster of small snouted creatures in a halfway disguised pen along the side of the hut. They were well fed and domesticated. 

It seemed Luhan had indeed found his apostate shack. He grinned to himself, held up his shield and slowly approached the front door. Xiumin might be wild and depraved, but his magical defenses couldn’t stop a templar, not even one of Luhan’s rank. The door gave in easily, and even though Luhan felt an aura of magic drift over him, he willed it gone easily like an odor lost in a gust of wind. The hut was empty, he was disappointed to see. No mage, no Xiumin, but the ashes in the fireplace were still warm. 

He definitely had the right place, just not the right timing. Maybe it was better this way. Instead of an assault, he would lie in wait and still take the apostate by surprise. If he could shake off his sudden drowsiness… he had been walking all morning after all… it was barely midday. The apostate wouldn’t return for a while most likely… 

Luhan yawned. He could… afford a short nap… on the blanket… that looked so cozy… in front of the fire… Were the ashes looking a little bit warmer now? Luhan swore they were almost out when he'd walked in, and yet they were starting to emit a comfortable, warm glow and it all just smelled so nice… 

When he came to, it was to the slow realization that his back ached and his neck was sore. Also that the fireplace had a nice roaring crackle to it, and that Luhan was lying on the ground - a face hovering above him.

“Well, well… looks like I caught myself a templar?” said that face, and all Luhan could do was blink.

An unbidden thought raced across his mind. Cute, said that thought. Then he realized he was staring up at an apostate, and that somehow he wasn’t dead yet.

“Who… who are you?” Luhan decided to take this whole arrest-the-mage-process very, very slow. “Are you Xiumin?”

The apostate blinked back at him, inclined his head curiously, smiled and then nodded his head. 

“I am Xiumin. I take it you were looking for me?”

Well, now that Luhan had confirmation, he could spring into action. He sat up, ignoring the pounding in his head and flung his hands in front of himself. The action caught the mage off guard just as he intended, and Xiumin fell backwards a few steps, landed delicately on his on the ground. His hand fell right next to a long metal coated staff but just as he reached for it, Luhan cast a dispelling aura and Xiumin shrieked and dropped it. 

“Don’t you dare, mage!” Luhan cried in triumph as he pulled himself to his feet. He towered over the apostate, one hand before his body and the other reaching for his weapons. “Touch it, and you’re dead!”

Xiumin sat firmly before him, his face a mixture of alarm and… was that a smirk?

“Okay,” he said evenly. “I won’t touch it. But do tell me how you intend to kill me when you, my dear templar, are completely weaponless and without armor?”

It was then Luhan realized his nearly bare condition. He felt . He wasn’t , but he definitely didn’t have on his armor. Instead, it seemed Xiumin had stripped him while he slept - while he’d been drugged! - of everything but his underclothes. He stood before him now in only a dark brown tunic and pants, and he hadn’t a single piece of metal to attack or defend himself with. No sword, no shield. Xiumin had even found the back-up daggers in his left boot and the inside of his thigh. Perhaps this wasn’t the time to blush though. Luhan glanced around fearfully and the only article of his he could see were his boots which Xiumin had irritatingly placed by the door in a taunting gesture no doubt. The mage sat between him and his boots too, not that they’d be any good in a battle.

“I can still fight you,” said Luhan, holding up his fists instead. 

“Oh, you can, huh?” taunted the mage with slow, methodical words. “Turn away my magic all you want, but you’re kind of puny without all that armor, don’t you know? Think I didn’t notice that? You think you could take me down one on one?” He raised his eyebrows threateningly and Luhan balked.

Now that he looked over the mage on the ground, Xiumin didn’t look only cute. He was slight, yes, and had soft brown hair and a tight smile and adorable eyes, and he was definitely shorter than Luhan, but that wouldn’t mean much in a scuffle. He wore mage robes cut from furs and cloth in the color of earth tones, but no sleeves. His arms were bare, covered in markings and… completely solid muscle. Luhan gulped.

“I don’t have to kill you,” Luhan bluffed wildly. “I just have to tie you up. You’re under arrest by authority of the Templar Order, in conjunction with the Chantry* and the Chant of Light.”

“Going to drag me to some Circle Tower, are you?” said Xiumin. “Lock me up and put me to work perfecting some mundane craft for the advancement of society? I’m such a danger to people, out here in the wilds, aren’t I? Or tell me, templar. Will you turn me Tranquil? Remove my emotions and still put me to work?”

“I… I don’t know what they’ll do with you, but you’re definitely coming with me.” Luhan blinked furiously and tried to clear his head. There was still something clouding his judgment, something magical.

Xiumin chuckled lightly. “How’d you like the perfume I made for you earlier? Wasn’t it sweet? A bit intoxicating? Drowsy?”

At least now Luhan knew why he felt so weak. The fumes from the fireplace were still floating about, and it seemed his apostate wasn’t just a mage; he was an alchemist too. The situation was even more dangerous, and Luhan knew if he was going to survive this he needed to get outside the hut and away from the poisoning air. Then again, there was the matter of his puny arms, and the mage staff Xiumin hadn’t again dared to pick up, yet. 

“How about… you pass me the staff, and I won’t hurt you, and then we can just talk about this?” It was in Luhan’s best interest to try to reason with him.

Xiumin smirked again. “Love your plan. How about… not?” And then he whistled. 

Before Luhan could lose even a second’s chance, he lunged at the mage, only briefly noting the howl of a vicious sounding dog, but there wasn’t time to worry about that yet. He had Xiumin underneath him, one knee holding him down by the hips, and a hand clenching around Xiumin’s outstretched wrist. With his free hand Luhan grasped wildly for the staff. He missed it by mere inches, but at least in the scuffle it rolled further away from the mage. Unfortunately though, his plunge for it set him off balance and that was all the leverage Xiumin needed to fight back and flip their positions. Luhan huffed as his back hit the ground, wind knocked from his lungs and Xiumin forced him down. His arms were no lie, Luhan realized. Tiny delicate mage palms shoved in-ordinarily hard into the front of his shoulders, and Luhan was completely immobile, no better than a butterfly pinned to the ground. He wheezed, panicked, and struggled uselessly but Xiumin had definitely won this, and when out of the corner of his eye a mabari hound whipped ruthlessly into the hut, Luhan knew he was going to die. He clenched his eyes and said a silent prayer to the Maker. 

What he didn’t expect was for his prayer to work. In a heartbeat, Xiumin’s hands were removed, and his entire body flung aside. A muddy paw print bled into the fabric around Luhan’s hips, but the giant animal who had come when Xiumin whistled hadn’t attacked him. It had attacked Xiumin. It had bowled right over them both and the impact left the apostate now in a nearly identical position on the ground with the dog on top of him, paws pinning him down and it viciously, ferociously at the mage’s face.

“No! No, Alistair, down! Alistair, not me! Not me!” Xiumin was drowning in slobber.

Luhan wrenched himself off the floor, dived for the staff on the other side of the room, and across his thigh he snapped it in two. 

The mage shrieked and spluttered, and he turned his head in time to see his only real weapon destroyed, crying as the hound on top of him continued its ministrations. 

“Got you now!” cried Luhan. He spotted a strip of leather on a barrel next to Xiumin’s bed and approached the mage and dog. The animal, Alistair, glanced up at him once and for some reason perceived no threat to either him or to his master. It was nearly the same size as him, Luhan noted with glee, and therefore the perfect anchor for holding Xiumin down. Mabaris were more than unusually large for their breed, bred to be attack dogs, or guard dogs. They had enough bite to rip a man’s head off, or to him to death. Luhan didn’t think this one had gotten much training though, and he snickered. Xiumin, however, cried in despair when he felt Luhan slipping behind him. He tipped the mage into a sitting position, hound still across his lap, and pulled Xiumin’s hands behind his back. Once they were tied, he stepped away and only then did the hound get off and come to say hello. 

“Alistair?” Luhan greeted the dog with a cautious pet. He’d always been good with animals, and sure enough he got a woof of enthusiasm. “Good boy, Alistair. Good dog.” 

Meanwhile Xiumin sobbed. Luhan felt a tiny bit of pity for him, but then he wasn’t sure the apostate wouldn’t blow him up given the right chance. It was definitely better this way.

“Alright,” said Luhan. “Care to tell me where you’ve thrown my armor and weapons?” He strode over to the apostate and hauled him awkwardly to his feet, checked that his leather ropes were holding, and then lead them outside. 

Here the air was cleaner, and he could breathe deeply. “Ahhhhhhhh,” he hummed, and Xiumin staggered by his side. “Good day. Good dog. Now, where were we?” 

Fortunately, Xiumin hadn’t gotten too far with Luhan’s things. He found his templar armor and robes in a heap behind the shack, dirtied but not irreparably so. His sword he located halfway buried in a pond with just the hilt sticking out and tangling in some mud grass. Xiumin also finally confessed at sword-point that Luhan’s shield was hidden underneath his bed. Luhan buried his nose in his robes and braved one last trip into the hut and when he came out, Xiumin was sitting uncomfortably on a stump several paces from his house and rolling his eyes. Alistair squatted by his feet and panted happily but he absolutely refused to chew through Xiumin’s ties when the mage whined at him to do so. It made Luhan chuckle.

“So where did you even get a dog like that?” Luhan asked him when he’d reemerged from the hut. He was already reattaching his weapons belt. 

“I found him as a puppy,” Xiumin answered, and with a resigned sigh that he continued into the next breath, he asked, “So where are you taking me?” 

Luhan adjusted his plate and smoothed out his robes until everything felt normal again. He was a little embarrassed to how admit much better he felt just having all his weapons back on him. He never wanted to be in such a vulnerable position again.  “Lake Calenhad. The Circle Tower,” he said finally.

“Of course you are,” sighed Xiumin. He nodded his head glumly. “And might I ask why?”

Luhan looked up at him. “Because I’m supposed to?”

“So, you’re just following orders?” 

“Well, yes.” Xiumin narrowed his eyes at him. “Why not? They’re good orders. Magic is dangerous, and you are dangerous. ‘Magic exists to serve man and never to rule over him. Foul and corrupt are they who have taken His gift-‘“ 

“Oh, please don’t start spouting the Chant of Light at me, I beg of you.” Xiumin rolled his eyes in one particularly heavy swoop and Luhan found himself wanting to stop. The apostate was amusing to him, now that he didn’t have a viable form of defense in his hands.

“You know, even if you didn’t explode my head off when you had the chance, you are still susceptible to the spirits in the veil and could become possessed. It happens all the time to mages who cannot control their magic.”

“You doubt my ability to do magic?” Xiumin queried. 

“I bet all the mages who turned into abominations in this world thought the same thing.”

“Yeah? What would you bet?”

The question puzzled Luhan. He wasn’t even sure if he should answer it. In fact, the more he let Xiumin talk the more he was puzzled by him. He should really just set off already but it was getting late and he had no desire to go wandering blindly in the wilds after dark.

“My hat for your dog,” he answered finally. “Seriously though, I would hope your mage skills are better than your dog training skills. What kind of pet attacks you when intruders come into your home?”

Xiumin sighed. It was about the fiftieth time he’d done so since Luhan tied him up, not that Luhan was counting or anything. It was just an innocent observation.

“To be honest I didn’t know he wouldn’t defend me, given such a circumstance. Blighted creature,” he spat. “Too friendly. I figured it might at least act ferocious, just this once.” 

“Why the name Alistair?” 

Xiumin shrugged. “Met a grey warden several years back. Funny fellow. The dog reminded me of him.” 

Luhan stood with his hands on his hips. “Well that’s funny, seeing how that’s the name now of our K—“

“So, what now, Templar!” Xiumin interrupted him. “How far to your Circle and are we to travel at night and both end up dead before morning?” He smiled creepily.

“I think not,” said Luhan resolutely. “By the way, my name isn’t ‘Templar’. It’s Luhan. You can call me that if you like.”

“My name is Xiumin, but you can call me mage if you like.” 

Luhan was starting to think Xiumin’s jibes were endless, and increasingly annoying. “I’ll suit myself.”

Night was fast approaching, and as Xiumin had warned, Luhan knew it was madness to try and go anywhere after sundown. He settled instead for drawing up a plan of action, and that was to spend the night here - but not in the poisoned hut - and leave first thing in the morning. In the meantime he needed food. They needed food, he quickly amended. Ransacking Xiumin’s supplies barrels was probably risky, but it was the best option Luhan had, if he wanted to have enough rations to get them all the way home.

“How far is the Circle?” Xiumin asked again later. 

“Three weeks’ journey,” Luhan replied, in between laying out food stocks. 

“And can we take my doggie?” he asked cheerily a few minutes later.

“I suppose that depends,” said Luhan. “Will he cuddle with the first bandits that try to murder us?”

“I guess we can see and find out.”

Luhan huffed but Xiumin continued to nag at him all night. First he was uncomfortable on his stump, but he didn’t want to sit on the ground, else how could he get up without his hands. Luhan ignored him. But then he complained that his wrists were starting to chafe. Luhan refused to untie him. Then he couldn’t eat the food Luhan prepared and since Luhan couldn’t countenance making another human being eat off the ground like Alistair, the templar was obliged to dangle scraps of food in front of Xiumin’s mouth and so they were both fed. 

By the time it was late and Luhan had laid out blankets for them to sleep on out under the stars, Xiumin informed him of another problem and Luhan almost lost his mind - he almost determined to either let the mage loose from arrest and happily accept his own death, or else kill the mage and return empty handed and with a guilty conscious. 

Instead, and after much fretting, he found himself leading Xiumin over to the bushes, untying just one hand from custody, and firmly linking one of his own hands to the mage’s while Xiumin studiously relieved his bowels. With three weeks left of this, Luhan didn’t know how he would make it.

Morning came as a surprise, probably because Luhan really thought the chances were high of being eaten in the night. He arose first, Alistair padding over to him good day, and he nudged the sleeping apostate awake with the side of his boot. Xiumin grunted and shivered in his half-sleep and Luhan fought the urge to actually leave him here in the wilds. This was the demon worshiper? This boy who was nearly the same age as himself, who had done nothing to Luhan except what he needed to defend himself and his home, who had probably had more than an ample opportunity to murder Luhan while he was drugged, but hadn’t? All last evening he’d been disagreeable and moody, but never offensive, and no ghouls had popped out to torture the templar, and not a single familiar had threatened him, except for Alistair of course. Luhan was pretty sure he had a splendid bruise on his hip from where the dog had pounded over him in his haste to subdue his master. 

“Xiumin? Wake up?” he nudged the sleeping man again, gently on his side. Nothing happened except for more morning groans. His eyelids flickered but did not open. “Xiumin? Xiu-min. Time to go, else I’m leaving you here with Alistair and a bone tied to your head.” Still nothing. So this was the great and powerful wizard of the wilds? Luhan mused to himself. 

He squatted down and tapped his face, snorting slightly at how puffy Xiumin’s cheeks were when squashed up against the ground and his canvas blanket, the one Luhan had none too gently wrapped around him last night. “Wake up. Mage, wake up.”

Oddly enough, that did it. Xiumin’s eyes finally pried themselves open and the apostate squinted up at him in anger. “Now, you call me mage?” he demanded sleepily. 

It was decidedly unfair, Luhan thought. He had after all called him by name three times and nothing had worked. Before Xiumin sat up, he checked his ties and finding them still in place he grumbled happily and bustled about readying the three of them, Alistair included, for their journey.

Several hours later Luhan was already recalculating how long it would probably take them to return to the Circle Tower. Xiumin walked slow as dirt. In fact, he was probably counting each speck of dirt he kicked up as they shuffled along. It was deliberate, and annoying and most of the time he wasn’t even talking. Alistair ran along beside them, sometimes scoping out the road in front, sometimes getting sidetracked by smells behind them and them zooming passed. Each time he did Xiumin would sigh and grumble at the dog who was technically the sole reason he was in custody. Luhan was under no illusion that he’d have won this scuffle without the mabari hound’s assistance. Perhaps Alistair has a templar agenda that Xiumin just wasn’t aware of. Luhan wasn’t going to argue. At this point the dog was better company than his moody prisoner. Xiumin made even Luhan look like a ball of energy when he’d first set out on this expedition.

“Are you even Ferelden?” Xiumin asked him while they stopped beside a stream to refill their water flasks. 

“No. How could you tell?”

“Your accent. Your looks. None of that is local. And you're too haughty. Where are you from?”

“Nevarra,” said Luhan, and Xiumin’s eyes widened as he nodded. 

“I see. But now you’re in Ferelden. What happened. Daddy chuck you out?”

“Something like that.” Actually it was exactly like that. As the fourth son of minor nobility and way too many brothers, it was in the family's (read: the eldest son’s) best interest to eliminate as many claims as possible to their seat of power. “I joined the templars—“

“You mean you were forced to join.”

Luhan sighed. “I joined the templars and started my training as a boy, in Cumberland. Just recently I was transferred here. This is my first… real mission.”

Xiumin sniffed the air, pretending to be impressed. “Your first mission, huh? So you’re what, a big boy now? I’ve been meaning to ask you, why are you alone? Don’t templars usually travel in packs?”

How to tell the mage that his comrades had gone off hunting… more pleasant things? “They were dispatched elsewhere along the road,” he settled for the simplest answer. 

“Oh, lucky you,” said Xiumin in a sing-song voice. “So what did my scroll say? Am I bad? Am I super dangerous? A shape-shifter at least?” 

“It said you did blood magic,” Luhan confessed. Something was starting to nag at his senses, somewhere along the road, perhaps behind them. He darted his eyes around, front to back, and he wasn’t looking at the mage when Xiumin went silent. 

“Blood magic?” said the apostate, honestly surprised. “Really…”

Before he could say anything more, however, Alistair bounded up suddenly, having just double-backed on the path, and he growled in warning. Luhan immediately pulled Xiumin by his elbow off the path and into the forest, the hound springing around beside them. 

“What?” said the mage.

“Shhhh,” Luhan quietened him, and he ducked down low behind a boulder, shoving Xiumin’s head as well. 

They were obscured just in time for a group of horsemen to come into view. Through the shrubbery Luhan counted upwards of six riders and assorted free horses carrying loot. All the riders were armed and vicious looking.

“Bandits,” he whispered. “Keep quiet. We’ll let them pass.” 

Xiumin did as he instructed, although from his perch he was finding it difficult to maintain a squat with his arms tied behind his back. Out of instinct, Luhan latched onto his bound wrists and held the mage upright by pressing him into his side. His eyes though never left the trajectory of the riders as they approached, passed by, and finally disappeared into the distance. Only when they couldn’t hear the echo of hoofbeats did Luhan lift his head, pull himself and Xiumin up, and peek out onto the road. 

“All clear,” he motioned. Alistair too rose from his hiding place and followed. 

“I can see that,” scoffed Xiumin. “But they rode past us. What’s to stop them from turning around, or us coming across them later? You should give me something to defend myself with. Better yet, untie me,” he cajoled.

Luhan shook his head, bemused that the mage would even suggest such a thing. “And let you wander off or stab me in the back? Not a chance.”

“Hey,” Xiumin protested. “I wouldn’t stab you in the back. You’d probably be running after me, so it would definitely be your chest.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke? Please, I hope that’s a joke. You know what? It doesn’t matter, because it’s not happening. Let’s just get going.”

This time he made Xiumin walk faster, otherwise this would turn into a four-week journey, and one of them would definitely be dead by that time. Probably Luhan, out of sheer agony from being cooped up with an apostate mage. Xiumin wouldn’t even have to blow him up.

They were reunited with the bandits several hours later. Or rather, two of them to be exact. Alistair sniffed at the two prostrate bodies laying on the path as Luhan confirmed they were definitely dead. 

“Stabbed in the back, this one,” said Xiumin with a laugh semi-halted in the back of his throat. “Or well, stabbed through with an arrow.” He kicked the body to make it roll over. “Same guys we saw earlier?”

“Pretty sure they are,” Luhan confirmed. “This one has sword wounds along his chest. And another arrow. Looks like they were attempting to flee from some kind of scuffle.”

“With each other?” asked Xiumin.

“No, probably not. These arrow markings. Not the same kind I saw them wearing when they rode passed us. I’d say… another party. We best watch out in case we meet them as well.”

Xiumin hummed to himself, bounced a little on his feet to energize himself, and flexed his shoulders as if trying to ease his bound arms. Luhan figured he was about to ask for a weapon again, and Luhan truthfully wished he could allow it. One man alone on the highway with a bound prisoner and a friendly beast for a dog wasn’t exactly the most ideal way to travel, especially with bandits around. 

Xiumin had another idea though. “Here’s a thought, why don’t we just return to my shack? We can hole up, and I won’t kill you, and we can live out the rest of our days in peace. No bandits.”

Luhan laughed. “You think your place is bandit proof?”

“Why not? It was very nearly templar proof, until Alistair decided you were the next best thing after nug bones.” It seemed he was still grumpy about that. 

“I am way better than nug bones,” Luhan replied obstinately. 

“Yeah right. Come on nug bones. Back on the road, we go.”

And suddenly Luhan doubted who was leading who. 

By the end of the first evening when dusk approached, Luhan spotted a campfire in the distance. It could be the bandits, or it could be the other party of unknowables, and the templar was disposed to stay well clear of both, if he could at all help it. However, this meant that they couldn’t also build a fire and so they set up a lonely, cold camp and ate dried foods for dinner. Xiumin was silent and mournful, although Luhan had replaced his bindings so that his hands were tied in front of his body and not behind. Luhan didn’t have to feed him this way, or hold his hand while he relieved himself. It was only safe though when Luhan could keep an eye on him, and he really didn’t trust the mage to not attempt to work his ties off while Luhan slept. For this reason he left Xiumin’s hands in front, but as his final act before sleeping, Luhan tied one of his own wrists into a triple hand bind. If Xiumin tried to do anything, he would definitely wake Luhan up.

“This is stupid,” said Xiumin with a sigh. “Now neither of us are going to sleep well. Your hand is too sweaty.”

“Deal with it,” Luhan replied. He laid on his left side, Xiumin on his right side, arms stretched out between them but Xiumin was still more than unusually close for a stranger who might kill him at any time. “Deal with it,” he whispered one last time, but this time it was more for himself.

Contrary to Xiumin’s belief, they both slept soundly. 

Until something kicked at his shins and Luhan was suddenly wide awake. Panic clenched in his gut when he realized it wasn’t the mage who had woken him. Xiumin was likewise squirming from the subsequent kick to his feet. 

Bandits!

Luhan bolted upright, or tried to. His assailant checked him in just a sitting position and Xiumin cried when he was yanked up by his wrists as well.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” said the man above him.

“Who are you!” shouted Luhan, blood all aflame.

“Uhhh ahhhh, I said don’t move.” 

Luhan froze, eyes clearing as he observed the situation. There was a drawn arrow ready to fly right into his skull, the point only a hair’s breadth away and held in check by long sinuous fingers attached to a slight body with flaming red hair. An elf. An elf holding a bow.

The stranger smirked. “At least not until I figure out what we have here. What’s this. One templar?” His eyes registered Luhan’s robes and armor before skirting quickly to the mage beside him. “Plus lover? Odd indeed.” Xiumin hadn’t moved though he was definitely awake and frightened. He laid flat on the ground with only his hands in the air, partially obscured by Luhan. 

“What do you want?” Luhan demanded with deliberate menace, a threat he probably couldn’t have followed up with, but one thing Luhan had learned from his training with the templars was that posture was sometimes all a man had to work with. He didn’t bother correcting the elf. Not yet at least.

“Relax, relax,” said the elf. He moved back a step but didn’t withdraw his arrow. “I was just scouting around. Something’s been following us, but I think you are not it. Nor are you from that party of bandits we caught yesterday.”

“The bandits?” said Luhan. “Then you were the one who attacked them?” Suddenly the arrow looked mighty familiar.

“Us attack them?” The elf scoffed, and then incredibly, he laughed and pointed his arrow away. “They attacked us first! Deserved what they got too. I only wish I’d gotten more of them myself. Anyways, I’m Baekhyun, and if you promise me you’re not a bandit hiding beneath that templar’s skirt, you and lover boy can sit up properly.”

“It’s not a skirt!”

“I’m not his lover!”

Luhan and Xiumin protested at once. 

Baekhyun needed convincing of that, but he finally accepted Luhan’s story that indeed he was a very manly templar and Xiumin was his mage prisoner and they were making their way back to the Circle Tower very, very slowly.

“Heading back to the Circle alone then?” said the elf. “Well, we are traveling in that direction currently. Why don’t we gang up?” 

“Who is ‘we’” Luhan asked, but Baekhyun merely shrugged and wouldn’t answer. He did, however, help Luhan to retie Xiumin’s hands behind his back, and was otherwise unconcerned that he was in the presence of a big bad apostate. 

Then Xiumin remembered something. “Where’s my dog?” he demanded to no one in particular.

“Your dog?” asked Baekhyun stupidly. Then his eyes dawned in realization. “Oh. Oh! So that’s your dog? He came for a visit earlier. Already best buds with Chanyeol. But wait. If you're a prisoner, then why is your dog happily shepherding you and your capturer along the highway?”

Xiumin rolled his eyes. 

“It’s a long story,” said Luhan instead.

“Oh, I hope you’ll tell me!” cried Baekhyun. “I love a good story.”

6,290 words

Welcome welcome to my first Xiuhan chaptered fic, and to my first fantasy. Can we have a celebration? I'll bring the confetti. You guys can clean up! Be warned. This will probably get long, although this chapter is by far the longest because I wanted a proper introduction.

I'm so excited to start posting. I am actually writing well ahead of this chapter (currently by four chapters), but in order that I don't get myself confused or lost within the plot or the world, I am spacing them out for now. Good news is, I basically know the whole plot. I usually never plan something out so well in advance, but since this is fantasy/action/adventure I have to do it this way.

All of Exo will be featured in this. Yes, all former members included. Eventually we will have 12, but in true RPG (role-playing-game) fashion, we have to pick up/find our 'party members' one by one. Be sure to check out the map on the Glossary page if you like that sort of thing. Geography is important in this fic since the characters will be traveling so much. Anyways, I hope you like this. :)

♡ Rosie