The heavy sound of his steps echoing as he walked, Anders thought back to the events that had transpired but a short two months ago. Something he would never forget... the Chantry. That beautiful light that had hit the sky was the embodiment of his dreams; of truth, and justice. It was everything that he knew needed to happen, all in one crumbling building. Despite all this, it was the very same thing that made his heart hurt and his gut wretch, evoking a feeling of hopelessness. He had been so strong up until now... He had expected everything to change, why was this hurt such a surprise? It was moments like these that made him realize Justice and he were inseparable. Just as his own heart had poisoned Justice, Justice snuck into every aspect of him like a creeping ivy. Indeed, their merge was another unfortunate thing that needed to happen. Eyes remained fixated on the dirt road as he feet kicked up slight clouds of dust, dirtying his boots even further. He was never fond of getting very grimy, but this seemed the only way to travel for now. Taking the forested roads, wandering along in trust of a stranger's directions and hand drawn map.
Thinking back, he had hoped Hawke would kill him, and a part of him still does. It was love... that sick love that stopped her. Had he been anyone else, he'd have been lying in a ditch right now. He had warned her many times that he would hurt her, but in the end, it was still his fault. He made the choice to let her get close. Though, he would never forget those days. The days before all the destruction. He had long ago thought that part of him had died, that love had become an impossibility. Simply the fact that he got to feel that one last time was enough, though he knew he would never feel it again. All in all, she had allowed him far more than he ever expected. Up until two weeks ago, they were still together, something that seemed an impossibility to him. It was a blessing, and a curse. He was forced to watch the effect of what he had done... What it did to Hawke. It had torn her asunder, and she no longer seemed to understand reality. She so longed to be close to him again, and he her. Everytime she touched him, though... It seemed as if fear or disgust took over, perhaps a mix if the two. They were steadily growing further apart.
Eventually, he convinced Hawke to let him go. She needed her own life, without him. Even so, she had pushed the idea that they would one day reunite, but Anders knew otherwise. She would never be able to forget or forgive something like that, it was as if she'd killed them all herself, and he knew that. It was naive to think his destructive path would not suck her in, too. Frankly, he was still having trouble dealing with it himself. He knew it needed to happen, and all that planning... The innocents, though. That they had to die for this to come to fruition was a horrible realization. To not even know if it had any affect was getting to him, as well. He'd passed through many small towns and villages, though he had yet to come to one with a Chantry. In fact, many of the small settlements had heard little of truth about the fall of the Chantry in Kirkwall. As such, he had heard no news or risen mages, or abolished circles. He could only hope his actions did not cause an adverse affect...
Sighing heavily as he came upon a small stream, Anders quite wearily sank to sit at the water side, gazing at his haggard reflection in the ripples. He no longer looked the part of a mage, it was saddening. He'd fought for the right of mages, and now had to mask that he was one himself. One of Hawke's ideas and, unfortunately, one of her better ones. He'd pieced together some odds and sods of iron and leather armour into his current attire, far bulkier that what he was used to, but it certainly protected him much better than his old clothing. He had to admit, though, he quite missed it. Upon his back he'd strapped a rather simple long sword, the lightest he could find, though it did well enough. Of course, by no means could he call himself a swordsman, though Hawke had taught him enough to manage in the last two months. It certainly helped that Justice would take upon himself to help in moments of dire need. Since the Chantry, Justice seemed to have calmed somewhat. He was no longer a constant voice, chipping at his brain. Instead, he almost seemed like the companion he had once seen in him... Even so, Anders knew that would not last long. Accompanying the long sword upon his back was a leather bag, as large as he could manage. All this addition bulk resulted in him taking quite regular rests, lest he become to exhausted to walk, but it was all well worth it. To evade capture for a while longer was all he needed... maybe four months. Somehow, he had to reach a Circle.
Cupping some water from the stream in his hands, Anders gulped greedily as the water slipped through his fingers. It hadn't been too long since he last rested, but long enough he'd become quite thirsty and short of breath. After splashing some water in his face, Anders ran his wet hands through his hair, stretching his arms to the side afterward. His hair... Hawke had been determined he was to dye it, but it was the one thing he was unwilling to change. Instead, they had splayed some thin braids throughout, tied at the ends with simple twine. He was certain he looked different enough. After a few short moments more, Anders pushed himself to stand.