A/N

This is my first fanfic. I've wanted to write one for the longest of time but never got around to it. Mostly because I lacked the confidence for it. But no craft is ever perfect without practice so I took the plunge, hopefully it'll pay off.
This is an attempt to highlight the darker parts of the story that I personally felt were a little rushed, I mean there's a Blight on. But then again I'm a sucker for brooding, sulking and heart-ache. I rated it M because I know I wont be able to keep from getting steamy at some point. How can one expect me to keep my grubby, writer hands off brooding warriors? But it will happen naturally. The story will follow the game in the beginning but I will put my own spin on it. The dialog will change also in time. I promise.
Enjoy!

1

The Great Animal is not what it seems.

The air was still in the apprentices' sleeping quarter. Only the flickering of candles pierced the darkness that hung in the air. The Templar swooped quietly through the room, skulking toward his intended prey. Briar slept in oblivious comfort in the bed before him. Without alerting the nearby apprentices, he managed to scoop the slim elf up and whisk him out of the room before he had woken up enough to protest. The Templar dropped him in the hall outside and closed the doors.

"W-what's happening?" he mumbled drowsily as his delicate hand batted the air in front of his face like if he was trying to swat away sleep itself. His pale blonde hair was tangled and his grey eyes, blood-shot. He suddenly became aware of the Templar who had placed his hand firmly on his back and was now urging him forwards. Icy tendrils crept up the young elf's spine, succumbing to a horror he had never experienced before. All apprentices knew what it meant when the Templars dragged them out of the comfort of their bed in the dead of night. The Harrowing. The single word was enough make his knees buckle slightly.

"Quiet, mage," snapped the Templar coldly, baring his contempt for mages proudly. "And keep moving forward! Up the stairs."

Briar, still bewildered by the events, bit his tongue and obeyed.

'No reason coming to blows with Derrik,' he thought. 'Wish I knew why he had to be so rough though. Didn't he know that you catch more flies with honey?'

The climb to the top of the tower was like a death march. Slow. Quiet. With doom and gloom hanging in the air. When they finally arrived at the top of the tower, in a grand room restricted to only Senior Enchanters and Templars, Briar's heart sank. "The Harrowing Chamber" it had been named by the various ominous rumours from the other apprentices. This was where he had to partake in the final test to become a Circle Mage or perish, according to the rumours at least. Briar saw the curious look on his mentor's, Irving's, face as he approached them. He seemed sad yet anxiously hopeful at the same time. It was not an expression that he had ever seen the First Enchanters make before. With him stood Knight-Commander Greagoir, appointed as the Chantry presence's leader in the Circle. He wore his usual expression of disconnection and indifference that had apparently frozen on his face. Briar eyes fixed on a young Templar standing behind Irving and Greagoir. Cullen, a young knight who has yet to be poisoned by the older Templars. He had always seemed sympathetic and even friendly on the occasions that he and Briar spoke. He looked at the elf with a ghost of smile playing on his lips and gave him a subtle reassuring nod. He quickly looked away when his cheeks started to turn rosy, afraid of making eye contact again.

"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin." Greagoir spoke the words from heart without even looking at Briar. "Your magic is a gift, but it's also a curse, for demons of the dream realm - the Fade - are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world."

There was a moment of silence before Irving approached Briar. "This is why the Harrowing exist, to test you against the demons. This ritual sends you into the Fade, where you will face a demon with only your will as your weapon."

"This is lyrium the very essence of magic," Greagoir continued, speaking the phrases he had no doubt said multiple times. He pointed to a pedestal that stood in the centre of the room. The lyrium that it held made it glow an eerie dull white. "It will be your gateway into the Fade."

Briar heart sank. "What happens if I fail? If I can't defeat the demon?" His words were but a whisper.

"You will become an abomination and we, the Templars, will perform our duty." Greagoir spoke the words matter-of-factly. "You will die."

Without leaving him a moment to process this information Greagoir ushered him to the pedestal. "Every mage has to pass this trial of fire," Irving whispered into Briar's ear. "Remember, keep your wits about you and that the Fade is a realm of dreams. The spirits may shape and rule it but your will still holds power."

With his mentor's guiding word reassuring him he reached one hand in to the substance that looked like liquid light. He felt a tingle in his hand as lights played on his skin. And then everything became white.

The landscape was hazy and diffuse as if watching the world through the bottom of a glass. The further away an object was the more difficult it became to distinguish it through the white dreamy mist. The Fade played many tricks on the mind as the rules of the mortal realm didn't necessarily apply to it. With a sigh Briar realized he was lying down on the ground and he rose with a chuckle. Moving around in the Fade doesn't feel the same way as it does in real world. Just like in a dream you could not feel the ground beneath your feet until you looked down and then it was just because of your conscious mind, so accustomed to gravity. It affected your senses.

Might as well move forward then, Briar thought as he watched the haunting statues next to the only path before him. He wasn't looking forward to walk this path through the twisted spires and gloomy ruins. As he continued to his trek through the dreamscape, for what felt like half a day, he realized that he had no idea how long he had been walking. Time was another of one those rules that didn't apply to the Fade. 'Ten candle marks or a tenth of a candle mark?' he thought, wishing he had a candle clock with him.

An angry wisp, a weak spirit of the Fade, interrupt his thoughts when it unleashed a surge of lightning. The bolt hit Briar in the chest and he was knocked to the ground. It's strange that I can still feel pain, he thought as he quickly tumbled to his feet, gritting his teeth in pain. Keeping his eyes firmly on little orb of light, that was wisp, he started to cast a spell. He could feel the very air, or what he believed to be air, surrounding him grow cold as he channelled the winter itself around him. With a precise gesture he directed the chilling energy toward the wisp and watched it freeze and later dissipate. His night robes hadn't been singed. In fact, he didn't even seem to have acquired any injury at all but he still felt the dull ache in chest, where the lighting had struck him. Sighing once again, he closed his eyes and meditated on the pain he felt in his chest. He drew soothing energy from his surrounding and directed it to his chest. Luckily, he was well versed in the art of healing.

Feeling rejuvenated he continued walking, this time at a much quicker pace.

"Another mage thrown to the beast as fresh and unprepared as ever." The voice seemed to come from nowhere. "It isn't right that they do this, the bloody Templars. Not to you, me or anyone!"

Briar heard a squeak and saw a tiny, brown mouse cowering at his feet. 'No, it couldn't have? Or could it?'

"Did you just speak, little mouse," Briar said looking at the furry little creature.

The mouse squeaked again. "Not everything is what it seems," it said and shifted. The light encased the tiny body as it grew to human size. Standing before Briar was a red-haired man in an apprentice robe.

"You are in the same boat I was," the apprentice said. He threw his hands up in the air in a mock greeting. "Allow me to welcome you to the fade. You may call me… Mouse."

Briar fought the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. "It isn't your given name, I take it?"

"No," he said with eyes filled with sadness. "I don't remember much from my time before.

"I guess I can relate to that," Briar said feeling the usual darkness flicker in front of his eyes every time he thought about his past. He made a point of not mentioning his name, of getting to friendly. He was certain that placing any form of trust in anyone he came across in the Fade could be hazardous.

"The Templars will kill you if you take to long. They figure that you've failed. I fear that is what they did to me. With no body to return to I have wandered the Fade ever since. You don't have much time before you end up the same."

'How cheery.' "How long do I have exactly?"

Mouse eyed him curiously. "I do not know. As you might have noticed, time flows differently in the Fade. I don't even know how long it's been since my… I ran away and hid."

"So what am I suppose to do then?"

"Did they not tell you? There is a demon here skulking around the Fade, biding his time until he can get his next meal. You have to face him and resist him. That's how it is, your way out or the demon's. But then the Templars would have to kill you."

'Facing a demon,' Briar thought. 'There it was again.' He had figured that he would have to battle the demon, but know he wasn't so sure.

"Anything can die," Briar pondered aloud. "It can't be so simple as that. Can it?"

Mouse smiled, not a happy one but one filled with pity. "What you will face is creature of power, fiendishly cunning. It would be foolish to underestimate it. There are other spirits here. I think they can tell you more, if you think you can trust them." He paused for a moment, apparently thinking things through. "I'll follow."

Without waiting for a reply Mouse shifted back to his tiny form and gave Briar an expectant squeak.

"Well. Come along then, Mouse."

Briar continued to follow the twisting path until he came into a clearing. There was a creature of brilliant white light standing idly on the far side of it. This must be one of the spirits that Mouse mentioned. Briar approached it cautiously; not wanting to presume it was friendly. Although, it looked like it was the clear opposite of sinister. As he got closer he noticed that the spirit was clad in Templar armour but not the exact same as the ones in the Circle. This was much older and had different symbol on it, an ancient one perhaps. Briar noticed that Mouse was nowhere to be seen. He must be hiding, he thought and rolled his eyes.

"Another mage thrown into the flames and left to burn, I see," the spirit said. His voice was booming yet had a hollowness and an echo to it as if it didn't come from the mouth of the speaker. "It seems they have devised a cowardly test. It would have been better to test your strength against each other than to pit you against a demon."

Briar sighed. "I didn't have much choice, I'm afraid."

"Hmm. Perhaps not. But the fact that you remain here means that you have yet to defeat the demon that hunts you. I wish you a glorious battl-."

"Wait," Briar chimed in. "What manner of spirit are you?"

The spirit straightened up as if he was up for inspection. "I am Valour, a warrior. I hone my weapon in hope of the perfect expression of combat."

'A warrior, hmm?' "Couldn't you help me then, Valour? Saving a male elf from a demon might not be like saving a defenceless maiden from a dragon. But surely it could be such an expression?"

Valour stared at him for a moment. "You are not the first mortal to have sought my help. But I am not here to help you. My purpose is to ready my weapons and creating the perfect one in pursuit of valour."

Briar pondered that statement, trying to remain calm even when anger was clawing at him inside, desperate to be unleashed. "So the valorous warrior denies the pleading mage his help because his purpose in life is to create weapon in pursuit of valour. How… valorous."

Valour eyes narrowed. "I did not say I would not aid you. You may take one of my weapons but first I will have to test your worth."

"I can agree to that if you tell me what it entails."

"If you truly desire one of my weapons than you will have to duel me. Valour shall test your resolve, as it should be tested. In battle."

Briar let out an exasperated chuckle. "So you wish to duel me unarmed to give me a weapon so that I can duel a demon armed. I fail to see what it is that makes you any different from the demon."

Valour gasped, his light body losing a lot of its brilliance. "How dare you? I am a spirit of Valour-"

"You talk about being valorous but how many scared apprentices seeking aid have you cut down with your sword?" His usual low, melodic voice was now cold and hard like steel. Cutting deep into the core. "Did you kill them or just send them away, leaving them to fend off the demon alone? You say you are Valour but valour seems a lot like Callousness without benevolence, doesn't it?"

Briar had for some reason let his anger get the best of him. He was usually calm and composed, preferring passive-aggression in front of direct confrontation. But there was something about this virtuous spirit that had stirred something in him, rousing a flame forgotten long ago.

The light emanating from Valour had grown even duller.

"You are insolent, mortal," he boomed. "But you seem more virtuous than any of the mages I have come across before. I shall give you Valour's staff."

Briar tried his best to regain his composure and to not let his disappointment with the spirit show. 'At least he helped,' he thought. 'And without having to get his hands dirty. How convenient it must be to be so… valorous.'

"Thank you, spirit," he said and grasped the staff.

"Good luck, mortal." Valour said turning his attention to his blades.

"You are very brave to question a spirit of the Fade so boldly," Mouse said once they were out of earshot.

Briar frowned. "Well, some one had to be valorous."

He continued on the path before him, becoming more and more anxious with each step. 'How much time has passed now?' he thought as his pace quickened.

He was almost running when Mouse alerted him to the presence of another spirit. It was a big sleeping bear but not one he had ever seen in any book before. Big spikes protruded from its back and its fur was matted with what appeared to be blood. It lazily opened its blood-shot eyes to peer at the approaching mage but it did not rise.

"So you are the one who is being hunted," it said. Its voice sounded like it was constantly in mid-yawn but it had a dark undertone that echoed with it. "And what of that small one? Is he a snack for me?"

With that said Mouse quickly shifted to human form again. "I don't like him. He's not going to help," he said quickly, sounding more and more like a scared mouse. "We should leave."

The giant bear yawned. "Hmm. No matter, that demon will get you later. And there might be something left for me. Some scraps perhaps."

"You are a demon, right?" Briar said. It wasn't really a question, more of an observation.

"He might be one even more powerful than the one chasing after you," Mouse chimed in.

"Be gone now, mortal. There is a demon skulking in your shadow. Surely you have better things to do than bother Sloth."

'Skulking in your shadow sounded ominous,' Briar thought. 'Is it getting closer?'

"Can you help me fight it, Sloth?" he asked even though he knew deep down it was futile.

Sloth sighed tiredly. "You have a very pretty staff, mortal. Now go and face your demon. Be… valorous."

The demon seemed to have fallen asleep, or at least pretended to have. Briar wasted no time and he stormed off to continue his trek through the confusing landscape. After what felt like many candle marks he almost wanted to quit. He had never felt so completely lost in his entire life. And then he noticed the statue. The same statue he saw when he first became aware in the Fade. While continuing on a straight path forward he had somehow managed to circle back to the beginning. He glanced back and saw that the there was no road behind him. 'Am I going to die here,' he thought as he crouched down on the ground. 'Desperately searching for a demon and walking an endless path. Perhaps I am already dead…' With those grim thoughts tormenting him like the buzzing of a fly on a summer night he started to sob. It wasn't something he wanted to do and he knew how unproductive it was. But the mere thought of walking the same path over and over again was enough to crack the mask of ice he usually wore. Now water was gushing out like frozen stream slowly melting in springtime.

"So now you weep, creature." The voice was booming, far louder than Valour's and with a fury Briar never heard before. Briar looked up to see an apparition made of pure fire that crept from the ground leaving it scorched. It twisted into a horrible angle as a maniacal laugh erupted from its core. "Soon I will see the land of the living through your eyes."

Briar shivered in the presence of the monstrosity. "The Templars won't let you escape. They'd rather cut us down then let an abomination free." His voice was still meek, still cracked and frail from the crying but he mustered all his strength and stood up straight.

"Let them." The horridly twisted face of the demon turned to gaze at Mouse. "So this is your offering to Rage, Mouse? Another meal as part of our arrangement?"

Briar turned to face Mouse who had assumed human form without Briar noticing. "I'm not going to offer you anything anymore," Mouse said, finally managing not to sound meek. "This one is different, he's stronger than anyone who has come here before."

"Oh. So now you choose to betray Rage after we have shared so many meals. Who are you to change the rules, little mouse?" The Rage Demon roared as it lunged itself towards them.

Briar had closed his eyes as the two had talked and gathered energy ready to be unleashed. He pointed his staff confidently towards the demon, which was quickly closing the distance between them, and unleashed it in a bolt of pure energy. It ripped through the demon's flame body causing it to let out another head splitting roar. Without missing a beat Briar raised his staff, summoning the winter and channelled it through his medium. When the demon was an arm length from him he quickly brought his staff down on its head ripping through the flames of its body. With a confident smirk he released the cold from his staff, freezing the demon solid from the inside. Its bright red eyes, burning with rage, faded and grew dim.

"You did it!" Mouse cheered. "I can hardly believe that you did it. I never thought that any of you would actually be able to defeat Rage."

Briar eyes grew cold as ice. "How many?" he asked with a voice so low it was almost a whisper.

Mouse reared back. "What?" He hadn't expected the question but his eyes told Briar the he knew very well what he was referring to. "I don't know, I don't remember when it started."

"So what were their names?"

Mouse let his eyes roll back as he thought for a moment. "I really can't recall. Perhaps I didn't bother to ask. I don't even know my own name or yours, for that matter. It's the Fade, or the Templar killing me, it changes you."

Briar pulled his staff from the frozen demon shattering it in the process. "So you just do anything to survive. Like an animal… or-"

With the sudden realisation fresh on his thought he swung his staff in Mouse' direction. Mouse, although surprised, jumped out of the way without even batting an eye. "Be gone."

"What are you doing?" Mouse squeaked, his voice once again meek.

Briar steeled himself. No more falling for appearances. "Were you really an apprentice? Did spending all this time in this twisting world rub off on you or did you rub off on the world, twisting it to this maze?"

"Maybe they are right about you," Mouse said; voice changed. It was darker, more sinister and cold and sent shiver down Briar's spine. "The Templars believe that all magic is evil. The fade is evil. When you are here you become what they fear."

"They would be wise to fear you, demon."

"Keep your wits about you, young mage. The real tests never end. And the true dangers of the Fade are preconceptions, careless trust… pride."

It laughed as its form shifted for the final time.

And there it is the first chapter, of many I hope. English is not my native language and I do not live in an English-speaking country but I consider myself capable. But I appreciate if anyone (if anyone read this far) point out grammatical faults or parts that were hard to understand.
By the way, if anyone noticed I am quite fond of allusions, it always feels like an inside joke between the reader and author to me.