Something he'd thought he'd never see: Alistair lose his balance thanks to his juvenile ice trick and crash to the ground like a pile of bricks. The spell couldn't have been timed any better, and Anders chortles all the more because of it. He should be allowed a second to gloat after a display like that. Half a second at the very least.

"This is why you should think twice before launching a sneak attack on a mage," he teases.

But Alistair doesn't leap up and retaliate like Anders is expecting. Lying prone where he'd fallen, his would-be attacker doesn't so much as move. Humor melts into quizzicalness.

"I sincerely hope you're faking or the type to spontaneously fall asleep and not dead, he says cautiously, moving away from the wall to stand by Alistair's feet. "This isn't how either one of us wants to find out if it's true we get do-overs like cats with nine lives."