When Anders was seven years old, his mother took him to Denerim with her after making sure that he understood that he was to stay with her at all times and to not go running off and get lost. He had spent most of his life in a quiet village and so the atmosphere was a little much for him. There was so much to see and the noises and sounds threatened to overwhelm him so his mother took him into the nearest shop.
“Welcome to the Wonders of Thedas,” the most monotonous voice Anders had ever heard greeted them.
Anders had never heard of this store but he knew what Thedas was and so he immediately looked around, trying to spot the wonders. He had just reached for a little golem doll when he saw a head preserved in what appeared to be honey and quickly turned away and came face-to-face with a pair of glass slippers resting against a large jade oval-thing. He saw chisels and carvings done on stone, wood, and metal. There was an entire table full of a tube coming out of a bowl along with some containers of some dried leaves.
He would have kept looking around if his mother hadn’t pulled him with her to the front to speak with the store proprietor.
“Welcome to the Wonders of Thedas,” the proprietor repeated in that same dead voice. “How may I assist you?” He was wearing mage robes and had some sort of marking on his forehead but though Anders had never actually seen a mage in person before, he had expected them to look a little bit more…real. Anders himself sometimes thought that it would be cool to be a mage and to be able to shoot lightning out of his hands and heal himself when he got hurt but since if he was a mage the evil templars would come by and take him away forever, he was perfectly fine not being one. He would be even gladder not to be a mage if all mages were like this one.
Anders tugged at his mother’s sleeve. “What’s wrong with him?” he whispered.
Unfortunately, the mage appeared to hear him. “Nothing is the matter with me.” No change in inflection whatsoever. That was just not right.
“Then why don’t you talk like a normal person?” Anders challenged.
His mother looked horrified. “Anders! Don’t be rude!”
“I am not offended,” the mage assured his mother, his words coming out at the same slow pace as they had before. “I am one of the Tranquil.”
“What’s a Tranquil?” Anders pressed.
The Tranquil decided to answer Anders’ question with one of his own. “Do you know why mages are feared?”
Promptly, Anders responded with, “Because the Chantry doesn’t want to lose the power they have by being the ones to control the mages and so they take the dangers an untrained mage poses and lock them in a tower forever. It also lets them keep an army.”
His mother gave him a look that suggested that she would dearly like to throttle him but said nothing. Apparently that was one of those things they talked about at home that he wasn’t supposed to tell other people about.
“Magic is dangerous,” the Tranquil said as flatly as he said anything. “Aside from the tyranny that mages have displayed in the past, magical power attracts demons and spirits who seek to possess us and turn us into horrible creatures called abominations. Even those without much magical talent can be possessed and any mage can learn blood magic from these demons even should they escape possession. There is only one way to cease being dangerous and that is to become a Tranquil. I give up my magic and my emotions and I am content to no longer be such a risk to myself and others.”
While his mother bought a cheap trinket since they had stopped by here anyway and she always felt guilty if she wasted the proprietor’s time, Anders continued to stare at the Tranquil in horror. He thought it was kind of weird that you couldn’t get rid of magic without emotions. He thought that if he were a mage then maybe he might be willing to get rid of his magic to avoid being kidnapped by the evil templars but he could never give up his emotions as well. Did this man give up his voluntarily or did they ever force people to do that?
The Tranquil proprietor didn’t seem to care but then he didn’t have emotions so how could he have a problem with it? Fear and anger were emotions, after all, as was longing for the way that it used to be. Somehow the thought that someone could hate the idea of being Tranquil more than anything and had to be tied down to have the process down and then once it was over was perfectly content was one of the creepiest things about it. Anders almost wanted to ask the proprietor what had happened to him but decided against it. Either he was the kind of person who had no problem giving away his emotions forever or he was a victim who didn’t even understand why he should be pitied.
Anders did know one thing, though: should he ever turn out to be a mage becoming a Tranquil was the very last thing he’d be willing to do.