Who will lie for you?

[galagraphia]

Here's a little fanfic I wrote today to link my comic Obsession and the events of DAII.
Sorry for mistakes, I would appreciate if you correct me.

I was lying on my back, eyes closed, breathing slowly. It always required a lot of concentration to get the knowledge I wanted from the dead, but today it was worse than ever, because I knew the answer already.

"Anders, the mage."

He was one of my best friends, a fragment of my past who survived through the Blight and Uldred's rebellion somehow. He was like family.

"I didn't do it!" his words sounded in my ears like it had just happened. My old friend standing in the room full of dead templars, shrugging and smiling innocently and charming. And I believed his every word, because I knew how did real murderers look. I was one myself after all. And I knew Anders. He'd always been such a softy. He was born to be a healer, to help people, to remove the pain, to bring half-dead soldiers back to live.

And now this, the images, written in the blood of burned and ripped apart templars and wardens. Images that I wish I could not see, images I wanted to forget.

"Did you found anything?" said the red-headed elf with annoying orlesian accent and an intricate dalish tattoo on her face. Marina Andras was her name. They were lovers, she and him. She knew about the blood magic more than I ever would, she taught me how to control minds, read the memory of the dead. She could've done what I'd just finished much easier, but she hasn't. She was afraid to see the truth with her own eyes. And I was ready to feed her with lies. Enough lies to make sure she would think Anders was a perfect man from her dreams who died like a hero. If people around me would believe that Anders was innocent, maybe I'd forget how much he wasn't.

"It was an abomination," I started with a bit of the truth. One should always make a believable foundation for a perfect lies. "A very powerful one, nobody expected that, they were unprepared."

"And Anders?" she asked, fear in her wide opened emerald eyes.

I lifted myself up from the ground, wondering how much gore is covering me now and how much truth Marina can be allowed to know. And what I should do with that thing Anders had set free. Can I do the same thing I did for young Connor? Or should I... kill my... friend? Can I forgive him for the blood of our brothers? Can I?

Rhiamon Amell can. Commander Amell must not.

"Anders is gone," I replied in a low voice. This wasn't a lie either. Anders I knew would've never done that. But he did, which meant he wasn't Anders I knew anymore. Whatever possessed him now killed him. Perfect logics. "He's dead, but he will be avenged. Howe?"

I swear I could've heard the sound of the breaking heart inside that elven chest when I turned away from Andras to face Nathaniel, who emerged from the shadows as soon as I said his name.

"Yes, commander Amell?"

"We need to talk. Follow me. This way."

I'd turned into a wolf and led Nathaniel away from others, following the scent, which was surprisingly familiar. Anders still smelled like a good soap, fancy robes and lyrium. And blood. And smoke. And death.

I stopped and returned into my human form.

"I need vengeance, Nathaniel," said I finally. "This thing killed our brothers and I want to tear its heart out of its chest. But I need to find it first. This is why I need you."

Howe nodded.

"I understand, commander."

"I believe you don't, Nathaniel", I objected. "Don't look for a monster who looks like a monster. Look for a fiend who wears the face of a friend."

He lifted an eyebrow. He's always been a smart one. I knew he would figure out what I meant. I couldn't say it out loud. I couldn't say: "Go find me Anders and I'll kill him myself. Maybe I'll do it faster than the templars. Maybe I'll stop him before he'll have a chance to ruin completely the reputation of the Order which was my life now." So instead I said:

"When you will find him, do nothing. Don't approach him, don't talk to him. Don't try to kill him! Send a word to me and keep watching. I will come and I will free the poor bastard from that miserable life he has now."

I shut my mouth. I said too much. I felt too much. Emotions were the luxury I couldn't afford. My mind must always be cold and sharp, because this is my only weapon.

"Go, Nathaniel. Good hunt," said I and directed my steps back to the clearing where we left other wardens.

They were waiting for me.

"What shall we do with... err, corpses?" asked Sigrun, the dwarven girl.

"Collect them, bring to Vigil's Keep and burn them," said I.

I paused, looking down at the body of Rolan, the templar. I had plans for him, but he, apparently, had plans for us as well. Sodding bastard! Was there anybody in their bloody order I could trust enough to accept as a trainer for my recruits?

"And I need to find another templar, I guess." I kicked Rolan's headless mutilated corpse. "This time I won't accept volunteers".