To his credit, Alderic managed not to look vaguely affronted -- as he felt -- when Bethen turned a sharp word on him. Templar discipline. Being what he was, Mages speaking to him on less than kind terms was a common, if not daily occurrence that he'd long since gotten used to over the years. The Mage's Tower always carried a thin illusion of peace, of its inhabitants living in harmony with each other, but anyone who had been there more than a day knew the reality of it. Attitudes and personalities were constantly tensed, like a bow-string pulled tight and ready to snap.
Bethen had never been one of those Mages, however, in much the same way that he did not carry the usual Templar temperament. So, when the apology came immediately afterwards, Alderic sighed internally and smiled, shaking his head.
"It's fine, of course. And you're welcome," he said. If she was feeling on edge after the ordeal she'd suffered the previous night, certainly no one could blame her for it, least of all him -- the one who'd stood poised to strike her down, should anything go unfavorably.
Alderic quietly watched Bethen going about her usual work with the pile of books that, as far as he was concerned, had to be enchanted in some manner. In all his years in the Tower, the impressive heap was always there, no matter how many of them Bethen seemed to put away. He craned his neck to peer at the stacks and see what titles had been returned. In his concentration, he was blindsided a second time by the questions the Mage asked.
The Templar paused for a moment, his eyebrows knitting together as he considered how, exactly, was best to answer what she had asked. He never minded her inquiries, but talking about a ritual the Tower kept highly secretive -- with good reason -- was deeply frowned upon, and he had been scolded before for being too... open in his conversations with Mages. Still, this was Bethen, and he knew very well that her intentions weren't anything to be concerned about.
"I've not had a Harrowing go amiss, no," Alderic answered after a moment, straightening up again and choosing his words carefully. "The few Harrowings I've overseen have gone without incident, and I consider that a tremendous blessing."
His armor clanked softly as he shifted his weight around, his face abruptly creasing up into a frown and his eyes focusing somewhere behind Bethen. Memories boiled up again, still vivid, still sharp even with the passage of time.
"A few years back, though... I had to hunt an apostate -- a Mage who'd fled the Tower," came the answer, finally. "You might remember, I don't know. When we found him, he'd fallen in with a coven of blood mages, and they used him to summon a demon. I... We watched him change, and had to--..."
Then, just as sudden, Alderic stopped himself, shaking his head to clear away the mental images and forcing his face back into a neutral expression. He was being too open, and he was sure there was no need to quite so truthful with the Mage, not with that particular topic, on that particular day.
"That's not important though," he hastily blurted out. "You passed your Harrowing, without any of that, and have every right to be proud for it."
At that, the Templar scanned over the Library another time, briefly, before leaving his spot against the pillar and strolling towards the table of books. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and besides, he was a bit eager to escape the current conversation. He very carefully slid a particular tome that had caught his interest out of one of the stacks, opening it to squint at its contents with great interest, before looking sideways at Bethen again.
"So. Do you have any big plans now that you are, officially, a Mage?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face. "I expect the First Enchanter shall have you running 'round so much, you won't have near as much time for these old books anymore, will you?"