The Fade spirit that the pc encounters in the mage origin story always seemed a bit ambiguous to me. This tale doesn't cover that encounter, but one that this spirit has with another candidate. For now, this a one-shot. I may expand on it later, if the muse decides to re-visit me on this one. In the meantime, enjoy! And as always, reviews/comments are always welcome.
He'd encountered enough mages and dreamers to understand what some mortals thought of those who claimed the Fade as their home. Simplistic notions at best, dividing everything that lived here into either good or evil, as the Chantry defined it.
His whiskers twitched as he scampered up the side of a slender aspen tree, and watched from underneath a leafy branch as one of the 'good' spirits talked to a young elven mage. The spirit said something to her about honor and perseverance, as if those qualities had any purpose or real meaning in this place. Useless information coupled together with good advice about how her mind shaped the reality around her.
He ran neat little fingers through his soft gray fur, smoothing it out. He'd found the mouse shape in the dreams of a cat, and had decided it could be useful for spying on those sent to this tiny corner of the Fade set aside for mage testing. Though he'd seen an endless stream of men and women who'd burned bright with magic, he'd yet to find one capable of carrying him out of this prison those who'd built the Tower had unknowingly trapped him in.
This mage, though, burned with something else, a fierce need that wove itself into a pearly shimmer around her heart. Symbolic, of course, that halo, and something important to her, as vital and close as the beating of the blood in her veins. His tail twitched as he wondered, not for the first time, what that felt like.
Following the spirit's advice she shaped a weapon, pulling at the fabric of the Fade with her mind. He smiled at the crudeness of the staff that appeared in her hands. Still, not bad for a first effort. She'd wrought quickly and efficiently, if not well. There was potential here.
She frowned at the staff, and it dissolved. Ah, clever little mage, he thought, smiling.
She held up her hands. Slower and more controlled her shaping, this time. A fine weapon that shimmered like polished steel formed in her hands. She smiled, though some sorrow that pulled at the corner of her eyes muted the pleasure in her face.
He scampered down the tree and raced ahead of her around a bend in the path that curved upward, and out of her line of sight. She started when she spotted him in the middle of the road and stopped. Clutched in her hands, she looked ready to use the staff as a bludgeon, rather than a focus for power.
"Who are you?"
Good, she learned quickly, not trusting what she saw. He shifted to a mortal form, taking on the shape of a young elven male. One who had come through long before, and had unfortunately, succumbed to one of the desire spirits.
He spread his hands and smiled. "A friend."
She frowned. "A spirit."
"You say that as if one excludes the other."
"It does if you're a demon."
"Your Chantry...they complicate the simple, and reduce issues of complexity to simplistic nonsense."
"They're not my Chantry," she said, scowling. "They stole me from my people when I was barely seven."
He settled on the ground, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knees. "I thought elves followed this Maker."
"Not all. I'm Dalish. We follow different gods."
He leaned forward, studying her, his chin resting on his palm. There were possibilities here. "Would you like to return to your people?"
He sighed when she hesitated, desire warring with uncertainty in her dark brown eyes. "You can't do that."
"Not here in the Fade."
She stepped back, raising the staff. He held very still, not stirring even a finger.
"You want to possess me," she said.
"No, I only want to accompany you back to the mortal world."
"I fail to see the difference." Despite the tension radiating off her in shivering waves, he detected dry humor within her tones.
"If I wanted to possess you, your will would already be gone." Perhaps a demonstration would help convince her, something powerful, but not threatening. "Consider this, how much does your Chantry really know about those who live here?"
"I told you, they're not my Chantry."
He closed his eyes and reached out, pulling at the shape of the Fade. The path beneath him shifted, running like soft clay in a heavy rain. Soft green moss blossomed up from the packed dry-seeming earth. Along the sides of the path, desiccated and spindly plants flowed upward, bright red and yellow flowers he'd seen in a dreamer's vision breaking out along the slender stems. He smiled, remembering another dream. The sky went velvet dark, and moonlight filled up the spaces around them. He set fireflies between the plants, and scattered them across the sky for stars.
When he opened his eyes, he saw her slowly turning, staring at what he had wrought, and clutching her staff against her chest.
"They've chained a rage demon for your test."
She whirled, the silver moonlight swirling around her. "How do you know that?"
He sighed. "They always set a rage demon. Fortunately, they're not very bright. Hit it, hard and fast, with cold spells. They're vulnerable to those."
"How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"Follow the path to the end. You'll find it there." He glanced behind him, where the path opened up into an arid dun-yellow hollow. "I can't help you." He looked back to her. "If you can't defeat it on your own, you're not strong enough for my needs. If you do, return, and we can discuss the terms of the contract."
"And if I don't come back?"
"Then I wait for another candidate," he said with a shrug.
"That's it. You just let me go?"
He nodded, then shifted back to mouse form and scampered off to the side as she eased past him, keeping him in sight till she reached the end of the path. She glanced back before she stepped into the hollow. He settled down to wait.
It didn't take long. She returned, the bottom of her robes singed, and a spot of soot on her left cheek. He dispersed the moonlight, and let sunlight filter through the thick canopy of trees he'd added while she was gone.
Fingering her staff, she watched him while he cleaned his whiskers. "Why do you want to come with me?"
He shifted back to the elven form. "For one thing, I don't belong here. I became trapped when those who built your Tower set aside this portion of the Fade for their own use. Don't ask me how long ago that was, I can't measure time the way you do. Your mages who came later think they send their kind to some random part of the Fade. They don't. They always come here" His eyes, green as summer's last glow, went wistful. "And I want to see your world. I catch glimpses from dreams, fragments of memory like scattered bits of broken jewels. It looks…beautiful." He held up his hand. "My pledge to you is this. I will stay with you till I help you find your way home and are safely there. When I do, you help me find my way back home."
He saw longing and uncertainty flicker through her eyes. "If anyone suspects you're inside me…"
"They won't. I can hide deep, and keep still as a mouse waiting out the cat."
He shifted to mouse form.
She gazed at him for a long moment, then crouched down and held out her hand. He jumped onto her palm, then scampered up her arm and came to rest on her shoulder.
There are beings other than 'spirits' and 'demons' that live here, he whispered in her mind. Now come, let's find our way home.