Chapter 2: The Dreamwalker

Summary: Six years has passed since Solona arrived to the Circle


Solona was at the First Enchanter's office for her private lecture. After her joint classes with the other apprentices, she spent her time at Irving. Most of the time he didn't teach her anything, just gave ancient tomes to read. At first, they were in the common tongue. But as she began to learn Elvish and Tevene, he gave her texts in these languages. Solona never understood this. She never knew why she needed to read these boring and useless books about the theory of magic. It was much more fun to use these spells than learning about them.

She elbowed on the desk resting her chin on her palm. With her other hand, she ignited and blew out flames and released some blasé sigh. From time to time her glance wandered from the text, and she looked around, tried to find some new curiosities. Irving's office was always full of interesting artifacts, mostly forbidden to touch. They were much more entertaining than the tome before her.

Her eyes rested on the crystal star chart at the side of the table. She began to remunerate the constellation she knew. Servani, Tenebrium, Silentir, Toth…

"Solona, focus on the text." She heard his mentor's chiding, still soft command.

She apologized, strengthened herself and continued the reading. But after a few sentences, she noticed those thrilling noises from outside. The senior apprentices were dueling at the training grounds. From the open window, she listened to the sizzles and explosions and sniffed the smoky smell, mixing with ozone. She stole a glance to her mentor, who seemed to be occupied by his daily duties, so she risked peeking the dueling practice. This kind of magic was still forbidden to her. She could only try them in secret, which often led to disaster and long hours of detention.

"Solona, focus on the text." She heard the command again, this time, louder. "Learn some self-discipline, my child." She looked to his mentor with penitent puppy eyes, knowing its effect to him. And soon Irving's stern and demanding expression eased up. A soft smile appeared at the side of his mouth.

"Sorry Master, but I don't understand how these texts help me to be a better mage." her voice was humble, but the Firs Enchanter heard the slight insolence in it.

Her talent became evident shortly after her arrival, as well as her recklessness. Her tutors praised her abilities, just as complained about her lack of discipline. She often caused accidents with her incautious and uncontrolled spells. There were traces of her magic everywhere in the Hold. Burned marks on the floor and walls, scorched furniture. In cleaning the Tranquils couldn't keep the pace with her destruction.

The First Enchanter and the Knight-Commander often debated about her. The Templars saw a danger in her, a potential target for demon possession. Irving saw a brisk young lady, whose naughty or kind glance or cheerful smile could make him smile. During that six years he mentored her, she became like a daughter to him. And this sometimes caused that he was permissive with her than he should be. And Solona knew that she could get away with everything in worst cases with light retribution. The only thing she had to do to gaze at him with big and sad eyes.

Even the First Enchanter had to admit that she was impulsive and undisciplined. A pile of reports landed on his desk every day because of her. Nothing could occupy her attention for a long time, except elemental magic.

The Templars called her Fiery Witch.

Her fire spells were extremely powerful; she could barely keep them at bay. The Knight-Commander and the Templars often expressed their fear that someday she will burn the whole Circle down with a wildfire.

But she was talented in almost every area of magic, and everybody admitted this. She learned faster than her coevals, succeeded in everything usually at the first attempt. The Templars and the enchanters both considered her as a prodigy. Sometimes she outstripped even her tutors. And this was that made her be surrounded with mistrust and hatred, not just among her fellow apprentices, but the enchanters.

The other apprentices in her dormitory were envious and jealous of her talent, or they just feared her. Nobody spoke to her or played with her. They gossiped malicious things about her, gave her mean nicknames. These mischiefs were like piercing needles on her skin. Not that obvious like being beaten by a bunch of bullies, but equally maleficent. She had only one friend, the bookworm boy, Jowan.

"The theory is the base of everything, my child." Irving lectured her in patient tone. "Read the chapter again, and this time be attentive." Solona grimaced and rested her chin on her palm again. She was about to ignite the flames in her hand, but before they could form an icy tendril shivered down her arm. "No magic!" Irving commanded, and Solona took a sulky glance to him before she began to read the text again.

It seemed that ages had passed when she managed to get through that chapter. She felt Irving's watching eyes on her skin whole time. She couldn't escape this time. She tried to concentrate on the crabbed Elven letters, tried to understand every word, knowing that her mentor will question her about it.

"Master," she addressed him after she read the last word of the text "I have strange dreams lately." Irving raised his eyebrows to this, gave his full attention to her.

"What kind of dreams, my child?" he inquired

"I see strange, talking animals, telling me puzzles to answer." Irving knew that it was a bad sign. It was only a matter of time for the demons to try to consume or possess her. Her raw power was apparent for an experienced enchanter, feeling the vibrations of the Veil around her. He tried to keep her in ignorance about the Fade as much as he could. But he knew that he couldn't keep her away forever.

He stood up from the desk to search something on her bookshelf. "Did you know the answers?" He asked as perused the spines of the books.

"Yes," she answered, and a light smirk appeared on her face. "They were ridiculously easy." Irving saw the first signs of hubris in her. She was smart enough to recognize her talent. She knew that she was better than most of her coevals.

"These are demons, my child. They want to consume you" He said as turned back to her. Her eyes became big, filled with astonishment. Irving chuckled on her innocent reaction as walked to her and handed the book. Solona read the Elvish letters on the spine.

'The Beyond.'

"The Fade is filled with wonders and dangers, my child," he lectured her. "It is time to learn about it more. I think this will be a better reading for you."

She devoured the book, read it again and again on the side of it became tattered. Every day, at their private the First Enchanter and she, discussed what she had learned from it. It was more surprising that this was beneficial to her concentration. She became more disciplined at her practical classes, and day by day lesser complaints landed on Irving's desk because of her.

One night after lights-out Solona slipped away from her dormitory. She often did this to visit her hiding places, to try some spells what Irving said she wasn't supposed to, or just to gaze the night sky. Sometimes she was caught by a Templar on night watch or snitched on by one of her roommates. In these occasions, the Knight-Commander gave her harsh punishments, usually longer or shorter period of penal servitude beside the Tranquils. By the time she discovered the system of these patrols and could evade these always watching guards.

As she reached that small storage room next to the greenhouse, she locked herself in and lit some candle. She sat down in tailor's seat and opened her book to read a chapter for countless times now about the mages who could enter the Fade without lyrium.

Irving didn't allow her to try the techniques she read in it. She wasn't ready he said and warned her to be patient. Sometimes Solona wondered why her tutors and even her mentor restrain her. She is talented they say, and yet they do not let her develop no matter how much time she told them that she was ready.

When she finished with the reading, took the book away, closed her eyes and began to concentrate on her flowing energies, just like she read, let it circulate in her unhindered, that the tingling tendrils run through her muscles and veins until it embraced her whole entity. She felt herself light as she hovered in the void like she left her body. And a moment later she felt solid ground under her feet.

She opened her eyes and looked around. She was in an enormous hall, lit by braziers. The air around her was thick, almost choking, make the place feel humid and fusty. The walls filled with discolored murals half came off. She wasn't in Kinloch Hold. She discovered every nook of the place and had never seen anything like this before.

Her energies surged in her in a strange way. Like it wanted to break free, tear her apart. It circulated in her more intensive than usual, leaving waves of pain running through her veins. This was never painful. Her magic was always a tingling and warm sensation. She tentatively stretched her fingers and ignited flames. It burnt her hand. She clenched her hand immediately, and the agony of her spell faded away in that very second. She looked at her hand, and it was intact, without any injury. She tried to focus her energies, but this time, everything around her was on fire. With a swift counterspell, she extinguished the flames.

Something wasn't right. She could control her spells before. She wasn't in Kinloch Hold, but she wasn't in the physical reality either.

She was in the Fade.

When the revelation reached her, she began to battle for breath. And this caused her energies to surge in her a more intensive way, like tearing her veins, even her muscles and skin apart to break free. Like it tried to consume her.

She remembered Wynne's words to take deep breaths when she felt like losing control over her magic. So she decided to take them as deeply as she could to pacify her respiration. And soon her rampaging energies began to calm down, and her piercing agony faded away. It became that so familiar, so pleasant tingling sensation again.

"Who are you?" She heard the question in Elvish. The voice sounded ethereal, like an echo. And soon a ghostlike female figure appeared, transparent, illuminating in cold green, like the flames in the braziers lighting the hall.

"I'm Solona Amell." She also answered in Elvish. She had a harsh accent, grating for the ones, who spoke it with delicate nuances. "Where am I? Are you a spirit?" she asked.

"You are in the Beyond. I am a spirit welcoming the ones who seeks knowledge." It answered in a monotone yet pleasant voice.

"You are a Spirit of Wisdom." she realized. Those boring texts of her mentor weren't useless at all.

"Indeed, Dreamwalker," it replied.

"Dreamwalker?" She has never heard this term before, never read about it, even in the books Irving gave her.

"Your blood doesn't sing the song of the Titans or bounded to another's blood." She didn't understand these rebuses. It made no sense. She knew the words, but they had no meanings for her. "You came here with a purpose. Seeking knowledge, you are not supposed to."

Solona's glance wandered from the ghostly figure to the greenish-bluish flames. She took some uncertain steps to a brazier and took her hand over it. It was cold, like ice. She tentatively stretched her fingers and tried to imagine this alien fire in her mind, and slowly it appeared in her hand.

It was so different from her fire. It was tame and controllable, easy to keep at bay. Her fire was lively, pulsating in her hand, indomitable and wild. These bluish-greenish flames didn't reflect on her. It was lifeless and artificial.

"What's this, spirit?" she inquired as showed the flames in her hand to it.

"Veilfire, Dreamwalker. Invented by the ancients much before their downfall." It answered in monotone voice. The Fade is filled with wonders… Irving's words echoed in her mind. He was right. It was full of many exotic wonders than her Circle. It was filled with wonders they would never be able to teach her.

"You are not ready, Dreamwalker." The spirit answered her question before she could ask it. Why is it that everybody is telling this to her? She wondered. "You want to seek knowledge which is beyond your realm yet."

"When I will be ready?" She raised her voice, almost shouted with the spirit. She was so she was so tired of that everybody tried to restrain her. She was eager to learn, and yet she always met walls and with that four so hated words. YOU ARE NOT READY.

"You possess the power, but you cannot control it. You want to learn, but you don't know what." the spirit replied in still monotone and soft voice. "When you find the purpose, I can give you the meaning."

Solona was fed up with the spirit's rebuses. And her anger revivified her rampaging energies, causing waves of pain to her so intensively that she couldn't control. As she tried to took deep breaths to pacify it, but it just made it worse.

Soon the hall burned in consuming fire, and she and the spirit stood in the middle of it. "Learn patience, and you will be ready, Dreamwalker," it said lastly before everything around them became slurred, and a moment later she woke up in the storage room, at Kinloch Hold.

Next day she told Irving what she had done, proudly showing him the ice-cold fire she discovered. He has never been angrier to her, and Solona doubted that he will ever be. He yelled at her for long hours. That how reckless and disobedient she is. That he should let the Templars perform the Rite of Tranquility on her. That the demons could have consumed her, or worse, possess her.

It seemed like a never ending tongue-lashing, filling her heart with remorse. She saw the disappointment in Irving's eye mixing with sorrow. And finally, she understood. She did something wrong, did something that she didn't suppose to. She clenched her eyes not to shed those tears of shame burning her eyes, but they were unstoppable. They trickled down her face as listened to her mentor's chiding, which sounded soft and caring despite everything.

Eventually, Irving ran out of words, and just the heavy silence remained in the study. Only her ragged and trembling breath disturbed it. Her eyes were still shut, forcefully tried to stop her tears. She heard shifting and then felt her mentor's gentle thumb caressing her cheek. She slowly opened her eyes and raised them to the First Enchanter.

"What did the spirit tell you?" he asked

"That I'm not ready." With his other hand, Irving stroked down on her arm.

"Indeed, my child," he replied. "What have you done is a very rare thing, thus very dangerous. It is a gift only a strong-minded can bear." The First Enchanter stood up and hinted for her to take her regular seat at the desk, giving her a tome to read from it.

This time, she read it attentively, never looking up from it even for a moment, just when she finished the last word of the chapter.

"Master, are you angry at me?" She asked in her most penitent tone, filled with uncertainty. He looked up from his parchments and looked into her green eyes, releasing a soft and reassuring smile.

"No, my child, but you've frightened me," he answered. "You made a foolish and incautious thing." He leaned on his elbows crossing his fingers before his head, like every time he was thoughtful or wanted to emphasize his words. "I cannot forbid you to visit the Fade. But I can teach you to how to defend yourself there. But only with one condition." Solona's eyes kindled and looked to her mentor almost pleadingly.

"Anything, Master."