The sunrise found Alderic altogether too early that morning. It had been well into the previous night before he had finally lowered himself into bed, exhausted both mentally and physically, and he felt as though he had only just closed his eyes when the morning bell rang out across the Templars' quarters. It took every bit of his willpower to push himself to his feet with a deep sigh, and splash his face with water from the nearby basin. The chill of it helped chase away some of the fog of sleep, but he still moved through his morning preparations -- which had long ago become ritual that required little thought -- in a daze. He did not truly awaken until he began the descent down the stairs of the Tower, finding his way with the others to the Chapel for morning Chant and devotions.
Kneeling, he joined his brethren in reciting the Chant of Light, their voices echoing around the walls of the chamber in a low hum. Then they fell silent, a time meant for personal prayer and reflection, and as Alderic mentally went through the usual morning communions, he thought back to the previous night.
The Harrowings were not getting easier. It hadn't been his first to participate in, and it certainly wouldn't be his last, but he'd thought he would be used to them by now. Alderic knew, of course, that he had little right to feel that way about the Mages' trials. His experience was trivial by far compared to what the Mages themselves had to go through, and it was, after all, his duty -- one of the most important duties a Templar must perform. Still, he found them deeply disturbing.
He had witnessed a Mage transform into an abomination right before him, some years in the past, and the sight of it had burned itself into his very soul. At Harrowings, standing over the prone form of a Mage who'd entered the Fade, gauntleted hands clenching the hilt of a drawn sword as he watched, waiting, it was impossible to keep the memory from resurfacing. Beneath their deceptively peaceful faces, a demon could be lingering, ready to force its way into their realm. And he would have to be the one to strike it down, the person they once were lost to memory and mutated flesh.
That Harrowing however, the one the night before, had been particularly difficult. With so few people in the Tower, the concept of "strangers" was non-existent, but as a Templar, Alderic had mostly avoided becoming too close to any of the Mages. Friendly though he was, it was beneficial not to become too familiar with any of the people who might one day meet the end of his blade, should something go amiss. Better to see them simply as Mages, not as people with friends and families, interests and lives.
Bethen, however, was one of few different cases. It was unavoidable when the two occupied the same space so often -- not the Mage's Tower itself, but the library within, a shared interest in books leading them both there regularly. Of course, such camaraderie had not gone unnoticed, and Alderic certainly hadn't missed his superior's meaning when he'd been selected to be the Templar overseeing her Harrowing. Fortunately, the Maker had been merciful. They had each passed their respective trials. She had slain a demon, he had proven himself ready to -- though it had taken it's toll on him.
He was unsurprised when he found her in the library later in the day, but as he strode across the room, he couldn't help but marvel at her going about her usual business as though she had not spent the previous evening being tested, earning the new robes she wore. Rather than walk directly over, he instead stood near where she was working, his back against a stone pillar where he could still monitor the rest of the library. He carefully tipped his helmet into his hands, and tucked it under one arm.
"You look well," he said, once his face was no longer obstructed. "Congratulations on your Harrowing, by the way. You did quite impressively."
A stupid thing to say, he thought afterwards. Anyone who survived did impressively. He wondered absently how aware she was the he was the one who had overseen her during her trial, but he decided against asking. He knew she didn't share many of her peers' opinions of their Templar 'guardians', but better not to push it.