A/N: This story was very heavily influenced by Ventisquear's amazing story: Ignis Internum. In it, she starts by exploring the madness of Renden Howe, and it caused me to start wondering about the darkness that can lurk in the human mind.
Thus, Lilyth was born, and I thought to explore a story *far* different from Eyes of a Stranger. That's still my main story, so unfortunately this one won't be updated as frequently. But, once Lilyth appeared in my mind, she wouldn't stay quiet until I got part of her story out.
Warning: I would like to warn you upfront before you start reading, though. This story is *very* dark and will deal with a lot of horrific subjects such as murder, abuse, rape, etc. Lilyth is a girl with a lot of problems. If any of those things bother you, I would suggest that this is not a story you would enjoy.
Also, as another aside, if you find the time you really should check out Vent's story, as well as some of her other work. Put quite simply, she is a brilliant writer.

I. We're all Mad Here

"Hello, Daddy."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Aw, you do not remember me? That hurts me, Daddy. Look at how sad I am; I believe I might even cry."

The old man's senses were dulled by drink and lack of sleep, but it seemed that nothing would change his usual foul temper. He scowled angrily and took another swig of his ale. After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he took another look at the girl standing in front of him. She watched his eyes widen as slowly, he realized who she was.

"What are you doing here? I thought your mother and I got rid of you a long time ago."

Delighted laughter bubbled from the girl's slender throat. "I came to see you, Daddy. I cannot tell you how badly I have missed everyone." She beamed happily and clapped her hands together. "Shall I show you, Daddy? Shall I show you how much I have missed you?"

oOo

Lilyth Surana rose from her bed like a maiden out of a fairy tale, all grace and delicate movements as she pulled back the covers, slipped to the edge of the bed and flicked her eyes towards the small window of her stone room. She could just see the faintest hints of the morning light, the softest shades of pinks and oranges lightly breaking the dark sky. It was time to get up, before the templars began to swarm the halls and privacy was no longer an option. That, or risk being discovered. Certainly Greagoir wouldn't be pleased to find her in such a situation, though one would think that he'd be used to it by now.

She turned her attention to the young man still snoring softly beside her. Her dark blue eyes traveled smugly over the curves of his body; the muscles in his chest and arms, the blonde hair spilling across his oh so handsome face. He really had been quite a delight; viral, experienced, and eager for pleasure. Provided that he didn't annoy her during the day, she might actually consider a second night with him.

She slipped out of the bed, naked, and silently padded over to her small armoire. The slight shifting of the bed seemed to wake up the sleeping man; she heard him sigh and begin to stir. But, Lilyth ignored him and flicked through her clothes. Really, these Circle robes were so very unflattering. Whoever designed them certainly hadn't taken a woman's vanity into account.

But, she knew that there was no hope for it. All mages were supposed to wear them. The reason for it was never specified, though she suspected it was to make things easy for the templars when they had a... tryst with one of the mages.

Well, nothing to do but put it on. She stepped into her underclothes and pulled out one of the blue robes; at least the soft color made her dark eyes look stunning. Which was all that could be said for it, in all honesty, since it did absolutely nothing for her figure. She slipped the robe over her head, zipped up the back, and turned from the armoire to see the young man sitting up in the bed, smiling at her.

"Good morning," he said sleepily, running a hand through his tousled hair. She noticed that his voice carried the typical narcissistic lilt that men always got after a night with a beautiful woman. Her smile became a bit strained.

It disgusted her, the way a man's chin would lift ever so slightly when he saw her, or the way he would walk just a little bit straighter, as if she were some kind of prize that belonged only to him. If this man was like the rest of them, he would toss her winks throughout the day or try to catch her hand and pull her down a secluded hall, believing that now he had some sort of right to take her whenever he wished.

But, a girl did have her own needs, and Lilyth was willing to deal with such irritations as long as she got what she wanted.

She gave him a beautiful smile, taking care to show none of her thoughts. "Good morning, Anders." With the wave of her hand, she gestured towards the small window of her semi-private room. "It is starting to get light. You should leave before the templars find us."

Thankfully, he didn't try to stay and talk; in fact, he didn't even bother to ask her if he would be welcome again. Perhaps the rumors about him were true: that Anders had enough conquests under his belt to know how this ritual went. If so, she would definitely consider another night with him. In Lilyth's experience, most men tended to get a bit possessive after they had a woman. Either that, or they simply brushed her off as a whore and made lewd jokes about her with their friends.

It was a rare man who could just accept the pleasure of another person for what it was: simple pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less.

Once he had quietly slipped out of the room, giving her a smile on his way out, Lilyth picked up the brush off her small vanity table and began to run it through her long black hair. She smiled at herself in the mirror, and the reflected pretty face smiled back.

Lilyth was well aware of how beautiful she was; it was the source of all of life's problems, as well as the solution. Some men attributed all sorts of magic to a woman, praising her to the skies for nothing more than the gleam in her eyes or the sweep of her dark lashes. Some others dismissed a beautiful woman as good for only one thing. She was good at taking advantage of both views.

When her hair was gleaming and smooth, she set the brush down and closed her eyes, reveling in the sensations still left over from the previous night. Anders had certainly known what he was doing, which was always a pleasurable experience.

A ripple of displeasure emanated from the beautiful crystal amulet she wore on a chain around her neck. Lilyth couldn't help but giggle. "You disapprove, do you?"

As if I wanted to witness your disgusting behavior!

"Come now, is that any way for you to speak to me?" She fingered the amulet lovingly. It truly was a beautiful piece of crystal; a small stone attached to a thick silver chain. It was the most expensive thing she had ever owned in her own right; though to her, it was beyond priceless. "If you are harsh with me I shall be forced to punish you again. And you do not want that, now do you?" She felt the sudden pulse of fear, and her smile widened. "See? Is it not so much nicer when you behave?"

She let the amulet fall against her chest and returned to gaze at herself in the mirror, her eyes sweeping over her face. She pinched her pale cheeks to draw some color to her high cheekbones and bit both of her lips until they flushed pink and, once she was satisfied that her appearance was in order–a woman such as her must always look her best–she stood up from the vanity and floated out of the room.

Though the sun had barely risen by that time, some of the mages and templars were already up and about. It seemed that Anders had only moments before being caught. The templars tended to grow quite cross if they found two mages in the passion of lovemaking, and were quick to report such behavior to Greagoir. Lilyth grinned to herself at the hypocrisy of it. It was well known that half of the so-called followers of Andraste had gone a round or two with at least one mage, if not more. It really was quite amusing to think of how all that righteous purity flew right out the window as soon as a pretty woman smiled their way.

As she glided down the halls of the Tower, more and more people slowly began to emerge from their rooms, yawning as they rushed to the dining hall to catch the early meal while the bread was still warm from the oven. Most of the people she saw greeted her cheerfully, to which she responded with a polite nod and a sweet smile. Those men that knew her intimately tossed her sly grins, and she responded by lowering her eyes and flushing. Really, she was rather proud of how good her acting was. No one would ever know that beneath her sweet smile and blushing cheeks, she was fighting back the urge to scowl.

Nine years. She had spent nine years trapped within these stone walls, forced to play a role to hide her real self. Each day was worse than the last; every day drained her more and more as she swallowed back her true feelings and showed an innocent face to those around her. But, there was no help for it, for while she was trapped in the Tower, she could never risk the truth.

Some of the templars already kept a watchful eye on her, given that she had been something of a late comer to the Tower, having been caught using her magic at the age of sixteen. She couldn't risk giving them more reason to suspect her, what with the circumstances of her arrival.

She had been discovered in her father's house, sobbing hysterically over the dead bodies of her mother, father, and three brothers. All of the commotion had drawn the attention of the Denerim guards, who had reluctantly come to the alienage and were stunned to see a young Lilyth, desperately shaking her mother, begging her to wake up.

It was easy enough for them to piece together what happened. They had been able to see the body of the potential thief for themselves; they saw where he had broken into the home, and Lilyth had tearfully confessed that she had killed the intruder with magic. Magic she had claimed she didn't even know she had.

Of course the guards believed her and were full of sympathy. Lilyth was, after all, a beautiful young woman; she knew the power of appearances, and when they saw her clinging to her mother, so terrified and alone, their hearts had gone out to her. They had gently pulled her away from her slaughtered family and guided her from the alienage. They brought her food, and convinced her to eat and drink to build up her strength, even going so far as to call for a healer. They had even convinced the innkeeper to let her stay in a comfortable room for free, while she waited for a templar to come take her to the Tower.

Once there, the story of how she had come to be in the Tower began to circulate, especially after she was put through her Harrowing and became a "true" mage. Everyone practically tripped over themselves to see the poor girl who had watched as her family was brutally murdered. Lilyth was treated like a delicate doll, something to be petted and coddles, and soon she had managed to worm her way into the hearts of everyone, especially the men. Soon most of the Tower's residents began to love the heartbroken little elven girl.

Monster.

Lilyth chuckled to herself and grasped the amulet tightly in her slim hand. She sent a wave of energy through it, and felt the satisfying ripple of pain from it. I told you to be a good boy.

Feeling rather lighthearted, Lilyth began to hum softly to herself as she made her way down the long halls towards the laboratory. She was supposed to be helping Senior Enchanter Leorah with her inventory of the Tower's magical supplies but, quite frankly, she really didn't feel like it. Leorah was a pitiful woman, a truly pathetic excuse of an elf; always afraid of the humans, always so desperate for their praise. Lilyth had tried to tell the woman that humans were easy to deal with if one knew how. They naturally saw elves as beautiful, and it was simple enough to manipulate that. Men–and even women, in some cases–were such fools for beauty. But, the very idea had sailed right over Leorah's head.

"E... excuse me, L... Lilyth..."

The young woman turned at the sound of the familiar voice and saw the templar Cullen stepping out of the library, with something of a nervous look on his handsome face. She smiled up at him and put a hand to her breast. "Oh! You startled me, Cullen!" It was all an act, to play the innocent and demure little sweetheart who charmed the hearts of everyone around her.

The templar turned a bright shade of crimson and shifted nervously, his eyes darting everywhere but her. He was such a handsome boy, but not really worth the effort. She preferred men who were confident and daring. Only the men who approached her on their own, who tried to seduce and protect her were worthy of her time. Cullen would never take the first step. He was too shy; always stammering, always blushing. She might have enjoyed the game of chasing him, but where would be the point? There would be nothing to be gained by seducing him–no doubt he would want something more than one night–and so she did not bother to try.

"Is there something I can do for you?" she asked sweetly.

"F... First Enchanter I-Irving... he wanted t-to see you." Her smile widened as she peeped up at him. She watched as his eyes traveled over her face, down her chest and body, before he got too nervous and looked away again.

"Thank you, Cullen." She practically whispered his name and fought the urge to laugh as his face flushed even redder. "I will go see him now."

That boy's lucky that he'll escape your whorish grasp.

I am what my father made me. She tossed one last, beautiful smile at the templar, and glided off towards Irving's study.

oOo

First Enchanter Irving sat behind the large desk of his office, with his withered hands laced together in front of him, his wrinkled face frowning in thought. Lilyth walked into the room expectantly, curious as to what it was that the old man wanted.

She only saw him on occasion; he rarely called her to his office. Every time he did, she half expected to see him use his position of power to make her some sort of disgusting offer; to attempt to bribe her with some tempting offer if she would spend a night with him. In her experience, men of power rarely hesitated to use that status to seduce a beautiful woman such as herself. The skill was to twist that power back into her own control. And Lilyth was nothing if not skilled.

So far, however, Irving had done nothing of the sort. He was always polite and gentlemanly, and always maintained a respectful distance. He seemed to act like a kindly old grandfather, but Lilyth knew better than to be fooled. She was well aware of how deep the darkness in him could go. It was the same sort of shadow that lingered in everyone, even shy little fools like Cullen, and it was only a matter of time before it emerged.

But, for this visit, it seemed that the First Enchanter wasn't alone in his office. As Lilyth entered the study she saw a dark-skinned man standing beside the desk with his hands clasped behind his back and a weary look in his black eyes. He was dressed in full armor, with a sword and dagger against his back, and held himself like a warrior. Lilyth studied him with interest, but soon looked away. Mmm... too dark for my tastes.

Instead, she turned her attention to Irving. "Hello, First Enchanter," she said lightly. "Cullen said that you wished to speak with me."

Irving nodded and gestured to the dark man. "Before we get to that, I'd like to introduce you to Duncan, head of the Grey Wardens here in Ferelden."

"Greetings, Duncan."

The dark man nodded. "And you as well."

"He is here as my guest," Irving continued.

"Oh? Does he require my assistance with something?" Lilyth asked. She was intrigued by this dark stranger. He must be important to be a guest of the First Enchanter. She had heard the name "Grey Warden" before, but had no idea who or what they were, and was eager to learn. In her opinion, there was no such thing as pointless knowledge. Who knew when some random bit of information could be useful one day?

Irving shook his head. "No, I asked you here for a different reason." Lilyth reluctantly pulled her eyes away from the Grey Warden and looked at the First Enchanter. "I have received some disturbing reports from Greagoir." His eyes narrowed. "Reports of blood magic being used by some of the mages."

It was almost as if time froze. Lilyth took great care to keep her face a mask of inquisitive concern, but her mind was racing. Do they know? No, think clearly. Now is not the time to panic. There is no way anyone found out. I am no abomination; the templars cannot sense it on me. I have not even used my spells since I came here. He must be referring to someone else. It is fine; hold your head up and find out what he knows.

It would serve you right. I hope they cut off your lying head and feed your body to the wolves.

"Blood magic?" Her voice came out in a tiny thread; Irving would think that she was just frightened of such powerful magic. "Are you sure? Who is using it?"

"Greagoir claims to have proof, and in this instance I am willing to trust him." Lilyth's heart was pounding against her chest as the First Enchanter sighed heavily. "But, we don't know for sure who is involved, and I don't wish to make any mistakes by sentencing an innocent mage to the Rite of Tranquility." He picked up his head to look at her. "What we need is another mage; someone who can discover who is using the forbidden magic and give us information."

Lilyth found herself almost giggling in relief, but at the last moment she managed to keep herself under rigid control. Oh ho, this is too perfect! "And you wish for me to discover these mages?" She bit her lip and shook her head sadly, as if nervous; all the while, she wanted nothing more than to dance in delight. "Blood mages are powerful. What if they find out and somehow control me?"

Irving nodded sympathetically. "I understand what it is I am asking of you, but I don't want you to do anything reckless. Just talk to the other mages, listen to the rumors floating around, watch their habits, that kind of thing. Tell me if any of them are sneaking out of their rooms in the middle of the night. But, I don't want you to confront them, or put yourself in any danger."

She twisted her hands together as if anxious and nodded hesitantly. "I can... try, ser. Is there anyone in particular that I should be watching?"

"Right now, we suspect the apprentice Jowan and some of the young mages he has been sneaking around with." Irving smiled at her. "I trust you, Lilyth. With this, and with future tasks. You know, we are planning to elevate you to a Senior Enchanter soon."

Lilyth kept her eyes down to hide the leap of triumph. At last! This was what she had worked for, the whole reason that she had taken on the image of an innocent and sweet woman when she knew she would be taken to the Tower. Despite what some people claimed, Lilyth knew that there was no real escape from the Tower. Some, like that gorgeous fool Anders, believed that if they could just get far enough away, they could stay hidden.

But, Lilyth knew better than that. They were full mages of the Circle; their phylacteries had been taken to Denerim, and the templars could use their blood to find them. But, once one held the title of Senior Enchanter, they were free to come and go from the Tower on various tasks throughout Ferelden. And perhaps, with a little coaxing, Lilyth could find her way to Denerim and destroy her phylactery. Then she would be free to escape.

"I am honored to hear that, ser," she said.

Irving nodded, and it was clear that her audience was over, but Lilyth wasn't quite ready to leave just yet. She hesitated, perfectly poised with an innocent look. "If I may, First Enchanter, I should like to ask Duncan a question or two."

Irving glanced at Duncan, who nodded warmly. Lilyth smiled at the dark man. "I am curious as to why a Grey Warden would be here in the Tower. Unfortunately, I know almost nothing of your order, but are you looking for new members?"

Duncan sighed heavily. "There is a war brewing in the south. The darkspawn have broken through the surface, erupting from the Deep Roads. I am afraid that a Blight is beginning; the Grey Wardens will need every able bodied mage to help fight it."

Irving nodded. "We have already sent some of our Senior Enchanters to help the king in his battle."

"Are only the Seniors allowed to go?" Lilyth asked.

"I am afraid so." Irving smiled in sympathy. "I know that most of you are eager to leave the Tower, but the templars don't want the mages to use this war as an excuse to try and escape. Besides, you have a task to do, don't you?" He raised an eyebrow.

Lilyth dipped her head obediently, hiding her irritation. "Yes; I understand. I will leave you both to your work." As she left the room, she paused to smile at Duncan. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"And you, dear girl."

oOo

That night, Lilyth lay alone on her bed, smiling up at the ceiling. Anders had been eager for a second night with her, but she had pretended to be ill so that she could have the night to herself. She lifted up the crystal amulet and toyed with it, turning the beautiful jewel over in her long fingers. She had spent the entire day in the library, learning all that she could about the Grey Wardens, and now it seemed as though two paths had perhaps been opened up before her, rather than simply one.

She had learned that the Grey Wardens could not be commanded by anyone; not the king or queen, not even the Chantry. That meant that if she could somehow find a way to join their order, she would be free from this accursed place. The templars could not use her phylactery to track her, though she would be a fool to trust that. But, she should have an easier time finding her way to Denerim if she was a Grey Warden.

Did you not also discover that the Grey Wardens are noble heroes, men and women who sacrifice themselves for the good of others? They are everything you're not.

Lilyth stuck out her lower lip in a pout. "You are so very mean to me. The Grey Wardens are powerful men and women who use their strength to fight the Blight." Her lips curved up in a smile. "I should think that you, of all creatures, would acknowledge my power. After all, I managed to trap you, did I not? Very few mages can claim something like that. I should think that my powers could be quite useful against the Blight."

She shrugged her slender shoulders. "But, if they do not accept me, I can still become a Senior Enchanter and travel to Denerim that way. And all I must do is turn in a few foolish blood mages."

Lilyth giggled to herself, delighted in the way that fate had played out for her. Really, she was quite a lucky woman. It would seem that even the Fates were on her side. Why else would they have placed her with such hopeless guardians? Puffed up templars who vigilantly watched the doors, but forgot all about the windows.

She was a blood mage, but the fools of the Tower were too stupid to see it, all because she had batted her eyes and played the weakling for nine years. Who could ever suspect such a damaged woman, a beautiful girl still traumatized over the death of her family?

They had been suspicious at first, of course. After all, few truly believed that at sixteen, Lilyth hadn't known that she was a mage. Greagoir had instantly forced her through her Harrowing as soon as she arrived, determined to see if she could resist a demon. When she easily passed, the idiots began to relax around her. It was now the general belief that she had been a common apostate, and was simply too afraid to admit it. But, since she was now safely in the Tower, guarded by fools, no one truly cared. Especially since she hadn't tried to escape.

Yet you never use your blood magic. Is it because you're not as powerful as you think?

Lilyth grasped the amulet tightly in her white hand and forced a sharp wave of energy through it until she could hear the screams of pain in her mind. "Your lack of faith truly hurts my feelings, you know. The templars look for signs of blood magic; I would be a fool to use it in such a place as this." She smiled. "But, once I manage to escape, it will be quite a powerful tool to have."

And, all I have to do is either hand over a few mages to the hangman, or join the Grey Wardens. Neither of which should be too much trouble. She was well aware of which mages had turned to blood magic and which hadn't. She didn't need to follow them about like a hunting dog to know who to turn in.

In fact, it was a constant source of amazement to her, to know that the templars had no clue. So far, she had kept her silence about who was a blood mage. She didn't normally involve herself in the affairs of others unless there was some profit in it for her. And of course, now there was.

A blood mage used the strength of their own blood to power their spells. They could control minds, siphon the life force out of others, or even set fire to the blood of their enemies. It was very powerful and very hard to combat but, despite what the Chantry believed, a blood mage was not required to speak with a demon to learn such spells.

Blood magic was like any other magic; an apprentice could be taught by a mage who already possessed the skill. There was no need for any demonic interaction. However, finding a mage who knew the spells and was willing to teach it was a difficult matter, which is why so many mages turned to demons. Demons had no qualms about passing on such skills, though they always extracted a price. Lilyth shook her head. Only a fool trusted the word of a demon.

Irving's words came back to her, and Lilyth shifted her hands under the back of her head, mulling over his comments. If the templars did not know for certain who was practicing blood magic, that meant that the mages weren't contacting demons. Templars were trained to sense and discover demonic possession, but if a mage learned blood magic without the aid of a demon, the followers of Andraste were unable to discern them from any other mage.

But, to those who knew what to look for, finding a blood mage was as simple as breathing. They were the ones who always appeared drained, though life in the Tower was hardly taxing. It took a lot of skill to pull only a small amount of blood, and most blood mages tended to use too much, which inevitably left them exhausted and sickly.

Of course, if some mages were learning blood magic without contacting a demon–and Lilyth was unable to sense demonic possession like the templars–that meant that someone was teaching them. Lilyth smiled to herself, not for the first time wondering who was doing such a thing. They must be very clever and discreet.

Well, with a shrug, she decided that it didn't matter. The only questions she should consider were how to convince Duncan to recruit her, and who to turn over to Irving. Perhaps I should just give all their names. It wasn't like any of the blood mages meant anything to her. If they were too stupid to ensure their own survival in the Tower, why should she owe them anything? Only the strong survived; there was no room in life for the weak.

Claim strength as much as you wish, but we both know you're nothing but a pathetic waste of life.

Lilyth suddenly sat up in her bed and held the amulet in front of her, gazing into the flicker of light that sparkled beneath the crystal. "Aw, are you still angry? It has been nine years, you know. One would think you would have accepted your fate by now. I am never going to let you go."

Her lips parted into a feral smile. "It is a strange irony and the perfect revenge, do you not think so, Daddy?"