1 - The Circle
"Among apprentices of the Circle, nothing is regarded with more fear than the Harrowing. Little is known about this rite of passage, and that alone would be cause for dread. But it is well understood that only those apprentices who pass this trial are ever seen again. They return as full members of the Circle of Magi. Of those who fail, nothing is known. Perhaps they are sent away in disgrace. Perhaps they are killed on the spot. I heard one patently ridiculous rumor among the Circle at Rivain, which claimed that failed apprentices were transformed into pigs, fattened up, and served at dinner to the senior enchanters. But I could find no evidence that the Rivaini Circle ate any particular quantity of pork." -From In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of A Chantry Scholar, by Brother Genitivi.
"But the dust is already crushed, that's why it's dust." whined Drace.
"It's not fine enough. The finer it is, the better it dissolves. Now come on, crush it." said her friend, Jen.
Drace huffed and started crushing some more lyrium dust with a mortar and pestle. She stood apart from the other mages in two respects: She was an elf, which is not all that uncommon in the circle, but she was still looked down upon, if not as bad as Denerim, though. The second part was that she was albino - she was often compared to white mice (which was an apt comparison, she was rather shy) and so she looked older at a distance. In truth, she was an evening away from her Harrowing. It is of course, unknown to her at this point. She had an intricate blue tattoo that started above her right eye and trailed the side of her face until it stopped about an inch underneath her eye. A small, thin tattoo was drawn in the center of her left cheek, almost a long, trailing version of Pi. Her white hair was cut to about her chin, a few strands rebelling and over her face no matter how she tried to contain it. Her large eyes were pale blue, not red. She was small, as elves are, and rather skinny as she often forgot to eat, so obsessed with a new tale or spell.
Her human friend was named Jen, and trying to teach her how to make a simple lyrium potion. Drace was not good at alchemy, which annoyed her. Most part she didn't listen, but it still annoyed her.
"Drace, stop. You do that anymore and there'll be nothing left - stop day-dreaming."
"Oops." said Drace, promptly stopping.
"Now shove it in a bottle, add water and mix."
"Really?" laughed Drace, "That simple?"
"I told you I was surprised you couldn't do it." said Jen, tapping her on the shoulder as she stood from her chair and began stacking her books. She "hmm" 'd.
"What?" asked Drace, stirring the mix.
"I remembered there's barely any Elfroot left in the stockroom. Someone's going to have to go get some.."
"Fine, I'll do it. You owe me one." huffed Drace.
"No I don't. You get to miss the lecture."
"Heh."
A templar approached as Drace finished the potion. Abell, a templar who seemed rather tolerant, in comparison to some of the others. He had scruffy brown hair and was quite young, apparantly he asked specifically to be posted in the Circle.
"Excuse me, Drace, Jen, but I heard you mentioned that someone needs to get some plants for the stockroom?" he asked, rather nervously, oddly enough.
"Yes.." said Drace. Where was this going?
"Well...the templars aren't going to let you go without supervision, but if you'd like, I could come with you?" Drace smiled.
"Of course. I don't like to say it, but..." she looked around a bit. "..you don't seem as...unsettling as the other templars." she whispered hurriedly, hoping it'd go down well.
"Haha, I understand, don't worry. I'll do my best. Good night, Drace." he said, turning to leave. Most of the templars called her either "apprentice" or "elf". He seemed to get along with everyone.
"Well, that's one less problem then." said Jen, bemused. "I'll see you tomorrow then. Good night."
"Good night." said Drace, stopping the vial with a cork and wiping away the water as she left.
Drace closed the heavy tome, Entropy And It's Uses, and pushed it under her bed, rubbing her eyes and face. It was getting late. She waved the candleflame out and kicked her shoes off, placing them next to the book to keep it company. She got under the covers, not bothering to disrobe. Too much effort. It was also better than to hope to get up before everyone else so noone would see her in a state of undress. Oh, how she wished she had her own room like the mages upstairs. No. She had to share a dormitory with all the other apprentices. Pulling her sheets over her shoulders, she briefly thought of her parents in Denerim, and wondered how they were doing. Maybe it was best to fall asleep before she started getting phisophical. And so, she drifted off.
As Drace was about a quarter into a rather strange dream about a field of vegetables, she was roused awake. Standing before her were two stern-looking templars and the First Enchanter, Irving.
"Am I in trouble?" she asked, rather confused.
"No, Drace. Come with us, we don't want to wake the other apprentices." said Irving, motioning to leave. Drace yawned and wearily pulled the sheets off her and stumbled after Irving, ignoring the templars.
She nearly had to run to keep up with him, surprising because he was the eldest member of the circle.
"What's going on, First Enchanter?" asked Drace, managing to keep pace with him.
"It is time for your Harrowing, child." he replied, and they made their way to the top of the tower.
They stood before the Harrowing chamber's ominous metal door, which did not help the feeling of unease. One of the templars went inside, and Drace scurried after them.
The room was large, like an arena. No apprentice knew what took place in the Harrowing. The mages who passed their Harrowing...changed. They seemed perturbed from the experiance, and even if they were allowed to speak of it, Drace doubted any of them would want to speak of it. Her mind began to race - was it a fight? Against what? A mage? Dragonling? A demon even? In the middle of the room stood a glowing pedastal. The rest of the room was disturbingly empty.
Knight-Commander Greagoir stood by the pedastal, and Irving joined him.
"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.." recited the Knight-Commander. "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. 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."
It finally clicked.
"I-I'm...entering The Fade?" she whimpered
"Yes." said Irving, placing a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "Every mage you have seen and met, and even those you have not, have taken this trial, and survived. If I did not think you could succeed, you would not be here tonight." he said. Drace found comfort in those facts, but still had small doubts.
She exhaled, hands shaking.
"I'm ready." she said, balling her hands into fists.
"You need only touch the lyrium on the pedastal to begin." said Irving. She gingerly touched the lyrium-water in the pedastal, and immediatly she felt energy flow through her and a bluish light began running up her arm and overwhelmed her. Her head was forced to look up, mouth in a wordless scream, her hands in a talon shape, before she collapsed.