[Dorian had often wondered how much his own father knew about Danarius and his wickedness and how he was simply complicit in it so long as he was maintaining the moral high ground himself. Perhaps he was as complicit as Dorian who believed, for the longest time, that owning slaves was perfectly fine as long as they were well cared for and not starving on the streets like those in the alienages. It was normalized in him not to think of it as being abnormal.]

Generous is a loaded word, I suppose when my father, who preached to me the evils of blood magic and instilled within me a hatred of it abandoned his own principles and planned on using blood magic on me to make me more...pliable? That might have been the starting point, at least in changing the framework of things I knew to be true.

[Of course that was only a very small part of it.]

I left Tevinter, headed south to help the Inquisition and the time I spent in Ferelden, making friends with people so unlike myself and yet so alike in all the ways that matter. Hearing them, listening to their criticisms, viewing what they had to say as constructive, and seeing my world from a different perspective? It changed the way I think and that I want to do the right thing.

[Though the right things wasn't black and white not was it easy and it was hardly fun, but he would figure it out.]

For me, that means changing Tevinter, culling the magisters, and redefining their purpose. It was never meant to be a committee of mages, but those who are qualified by their merits to be leaders and arbiters of the social ills and disputes. Instead, magisters are more content in hoarding their own power and allowing things to slide.