Asunder by David Gaider

Chantry had considered the idea of a mage rebellion unthinkable as well.
                "So are we mages now confined to our chambers?" the First Enchanter called up to her. "Traditionally we have always been given the run of the tower. You cannot squeeze people into a smaller and smaller box and hope they will disappear."
                "Or there will be a rebellion? As in Kirkwall?" She allowed more annoyance into her voice than she intended. As she descended the stairs, blood vial in hand, she tried to keep her temper under control. "Conditions were harsh there, I'll grant you that. Considering all that's happened, I'd hope even you might agree it's not the same thing."
                He shrugged. "An attack on the Divine was foolish, without a doubt. All I ask is that we not all pay for one man's crime."
                Evangeline reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to him. "Perhaps Enchanter Rhys is not involved after all. What if he is being stabbed right now, to cover up someone else's guilt? The templars are here to protect mages, whether you like it or not."
                "Even if it kills us?" The man absently waved away her immediate retort. "I apologize for that. It is late. You have what you need?"
                "I do."
                "Then let us be off."
                They walked out of the chamber, and Evangeline allowed the First Enchanter to go on his way. He ambled down the main stair well without further comment while the guard meekly shut the vault behind her. He was clearly torn between wanting to pretend nothing had happened and sucking up to a superior officer. She planned on letting him sweat.
                She held up the phylactery vial and studied it. No w let's see where you got off to, she thought. Concentrating, she channeled a bit of power into it. The crimson glow of the blood pulsated and then slowly intensified.
                Still in the tower, then. That was a start.
                Evangeline walked down the stairs, keeping an eye on the vial. The lower she went, the brighter the glow became. It wouldn't tell her in which direction Enchanter Rhys lie, but it would tell her if she got close— and as she descended past the levels where the mages kept their chambers, she realized he was lower still. Definitely a secret passage, then, unless the sentry had wandered farther from his post than he claimed.
                She continued to move through the dark halls of the tower, the phylactery's eerie glow lighting her way. The inner courtyard was empty, devoid of the templars who spent their time training. The chapel was silent, with only the Eternal Flame in the holy brazier to indicate it was ever used at all. She was utterly alone, with only her echoing footsteps to keep her company.
                Eventually the vial led her down to the Pit. Not unexpected, really. If the man was as close as the glow indicated, and wasn't on the mage levels, then this is where he'd be.
                The first thing she did was head to the dungeons. Not because she expected to find Rhys there— unsurprisingly, the phylactery agreed with her assumption— but because she wasn't about to start wandering around in the dark looking for a potentially dangerous mage without telling someone. Her encounter at the ball had reminded her that even one mage could make a formidable opponent.
                The dungeons were a morbid place. A relic from a time when this tower did not belong to the Chantry at all, but instead served as the ruling fortress of Emperor Kordillus Drakon. It was he who had founded the Chantry, during a time of great upheaval when cultists were everywhere and magic ravaged the lands. Once, she supposed, these dungeons had been full, and the ancient torture chambers had seen regular use. She shuddered at the thought that those devices might ever be