Dreams, Memories, and Things to Forget

She was dreaming, she knew that much. It was a dream she knew well, a memory. One she would very much like to forget. She couldn't wake up. Damn demon, or whatever it was, was a tough little blighter for keeping her trapped like that. She wanted to wake up. She didn't want to see this again.

It was a cloudy day when the Templars came. The sky was steel grey. Like their armor. Like Papa's eyes. They lived and worked with a traveling merchant. They were never in one place for more than a few days. The man was kind, but distant. They were workers, nothing more. Yet he treated them as equals and, therefore, they were far better off than they would have been in an alienage. She had a happy childhood. Her parents knew of her magic. They taught her to stay calm, to focus her feelings and fears, after seeing how her magic reacted strongly to her emotions. They loved their baby. They would never send her away. They never wanted to. Because of them, she grew up quiet and reserved. She never spoke much. But she loved Mama and Papa. They were a happy family.

Until the Templars came.

Mama saw them coming down the road first. Mama told her to get into the wagon Now, Honey, Now hurry! She was half shoved into the wagon in their desperate frenzy to hide her. Being just a child, she had no idea what was going on. She was told the Templars were bad, bad people and she needed to hide from them. So she hid.

She heard their armor clanking and their 'How are you's and their 'Is everything alright you look scared's. She was so frightened she was trembling. Breathing seemed to take all the effort in the world. She didn't want to leave Mama and Papa. She loved them, they were a happy family and she loved them! She was so scared she didn't know what to do. So she stayed still and waited.

And then, a crate caught fire. Just like that. A crack of lightning, a boom, and fire. She heard the Templars draw their swords, she saw them look into the wagon, she saw only their eyes through their helmets. She heard their screams at Mama and Papa. Apostate, they said, Illegal they yelled, Fort Drakon they threatened. Those words meant nothing to a young child's ears but Mama and Papa were scared. Mama looked almost sick. She ran to Mama, hugged her tight. She buried her face in Mama's raven hair. Papa yelled at them. Just a child he says, Only daughter he pleads. Templars do not care. They rip her from Mama's loving arms. She screams and calls out for her Mama. That's when Mama gets a wild look in her eyes. She wants her baby back. Wants to see her grow, fall in love, maybe get married. Wants her to stay. Mama lunges at the Templars, for her little girl. Her little girl that grew inside her, her little girl whom she loved, her little girl who had done nothing wrong. Templars do not care. One draws a dagger, sharp and shiny. He stabs Mama, for attacking he says. It was only self defense, he reasons. There's so much blood on Mama now. She's crying. Mama never cries. Never, because Mama's invincible. Papa's there at her side in an instant. He's crying too. Templars do not care. They drag the little screaming girl away. Tears running down her face as she leaves behind the people who love her, the only people she's ever known. Templars do not care. She does not know if Mama alright, if Papa can help her, Maker, she does not know if Mama's dying. Templars do not care. They do not know, they do not look back and they do. Not. Care.

All the little girl knows for sure is that the Templars killed a part of her. And she misses Mama and Papa.

The Circle tower is scary. Big doors, big ceiling, big men in armor who take away families and rip apart souls. They take away the clothes that Mama made her. She hates them more. They cut her on the inside of her elbow and bleed her. She hates them more. They give her a fine blue dress, finer than anything mama and papa could ever give her. She hates them more. They pat her on the head and send her off with a kind old woman with a pink smiling face in red robes. A kind face, not steel and indifferent like the Templars. The woman shows her a bed, something she's never had before. Tell her it is hers. All of a sudden she pries her hand away from the kind woman and runs. She doesn't even know where she is going. All she knows is that she hates this place. Hates it for trying to replace Mama and Papa with pretty dresses and new beds. For trying to placate her with smiling faces and comforting words. She hates it, she hates it, she hates-

"Aisling? Wake up, you're only dreaming. It's alright."

Aisling awoke with a gasp. She looked over at Lana, the girl who had awoken her. She was a kind girl, and Aisling was fond of her. She had dark chocolate eyes, a round face, and corn silk hair, a soft voice, and a worried expression.

"I'm sorry I woke you…It's just y-you were crying in your sleep and…"

"It's fine, Lana. Thank you. I'm alright." Aisling sighed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Are you sure? You know you can-" Aisling left before she could say anymore. It may have been rude, but she didn't care. She did not want to explain. She did not want to relive it.

She went into the bathing rooms and filled up a tub with water, stripped her clothes and got in, pulling the curtain around the tiny little cubicle. She touched her face. Her eyes were swollen, as were her lips. No doubt her face was red and puffy too. She splashed the water on her face and shook her head. She needed to forget. She washed up quickly and got out of the tub, wringing her raven hair with a towel. She threw on a robe and began to brush her hair when Jowan appeared beside her. This wasn't unusual in the tower. When you're stuck in a room with seventy-five or more other apprentices, it was kind of hard not to see each other naked at some point. They used to have gender-separate dorms, but so many children started coming in that they had to do away with it. Besides, they were all so far removed from society that no one really cared. Or knew. They were the mages, locked away in the tower so no one had to deal with them.

"You alright?" Jowan asked her. Aisling brushed her hair for a few moments before answering.

"It was only a nightmare, Jowan. I'm fine now." She said with an air of finality.

Jowan studied her red face, swollen eyes, and her puffy, chewed up lips. He didn't believe her. Not one bit. But she would only tell him when she was ready to, and he'd wait until then.

"I'm sorry, Aisling." he patted her shoulder. She set her brush down and looked up at him and smiled. She loved Jowan. Loved him with all her heart. He was like a brother to her, the only family she had left. He accepted her like a brother should, and she accepted him. Even though they were different, she elven, he human, they stayed with one another. They were a family.

Aisling slowly got up and went to put on her light blue apprentice robes. She and Jowan walked toward the Great Hall together, hoping to get a bit of breakfast before their morning lesson. Today it was healing magic. Aisling was fairly good at healing and she was proud of it. She liked it for one, which explained why she excelled at it, but she was also talented. She could heal a wound, cure a rash, make a poultice, and cast a fairly good fireball. She dabbled in many things, but mastered none. Jowan himself specialized in Entropy. He had near perfect hexes and draining spells. This was also a point of worry for him. He was the oldest apprentice now that their friend Catriona had been Harrowed. Jowan knew he was talented, and could pass his Harrowing. Aisling was worried for him too, though she'd never admit it. It would only worry him even more. There were only three options for a mage. The Harrowing, The Rite of Tranquility, or death. The end. Because even if you did escape, if the Templars had your phylactery, they would hunt you down. Hunt you down like a dog. They would kill you, and leave your body for the wolves. It certainly was a sobering thought.

Aisling and Jowan arrived at their morning lesson, taught today by Senior Enchanter Garner. Aisling groaned. Senior Enchanter Garner was her Spirit magic teacher too. He had once spent a good two hours talking about how a good Mind Blast spell could get you out of nearly any situation. It was going to be a long morning.

"Good morning class. Today we're gonna use our magic powers to do a little healing."

Everyone in class pulled out a piece of parchment to take notes on. Senior Enchanter Garner then began to list the benefits of being proficient in healing magic, something they all knew and had been over at least a dozen times. Eventually Aisling just tuned him out. Her mind started to wander and eventually she wound up thinking about her dream. How she came to the Circle. She still did not know if her mother had survived, if they hated her for blowing their cover. She knew she would never know and this made her somewhat bitter. It sure as hell made her hate the Templars. Every single one of them. They took her flesh and blood family away from her. But she'd never let them take Jowan, her brother. She'd kill them before they could take anything away from her.

Eventually her mind wandered back to the lesson where Senior Enchanter Garner was talking about how you would ease the pain of a crushed limb, where to press to slow the flow of blood, where to amputate, etcetera.

"So, if your forearm has been crushed by… Well lets say its been crushed by a set of balls. Balls of steel. What would you need to do?" He asked the class. The room full of apprentices started to snicker and giggle uncontrollably.

"Alright, that's enough. Surana, why don't you answer the question?"

Aisling froze. "Sod." she cursed under her breath. "Er, you would first need to stop the bleeding…And then you would need to…ah…Try to stop any infection from setting in so you would put a poultice on it…"

"Very good. What else?"

What else? Aisling thought. "Er…"

"Mmh. That will be enough for now." He said to her with an I'm-Disappointed-In-You look. Great. she thought . I just made a complete fool out of myself. Yipee.

After the lecture, Aisling went into the library. She picked up a few books and holed herself up in a corner and read until dinner time, tossing glares at anybody who tried to talk to her. She needed to forget, and the best way to do that was to lose herself in the small print of the Circle's library until her head felt like a bowl of pudding.