Authors Note: I do not own Dragon Age. Everything involved is the intellectual property of Bioware and others contributing to the franchise, and I profit in no way other than self gratification.
Chapter 2: Lucidity
Daylen awoke under a green and black sky, and, for the second time that day, bit back a yelp. He stood up quickly, and found, to his surprise, that instead of the white, loose robe he had been given, he was now wearing his usual apprentice robes, purple and blue. Patting his head, he found that he was not wearing any cowl, which relieved him. The proper mage headwear was notoriously stupid looking. However, when he stopped to survey his surroundings, his sense of fashion took an immediate backseat to fear.
The stone island he stood upon floated within a void of nothingness, filled with other islands floating within green and black fog. The island Daylen stood upon was long, narrow in places and fat in others, made of three main "Platforms" he could see and one that he stood upon at the moment. They were connected by the various winding, uncomfortably narrow stone walkways.
Daylen was not alone. On the path connecting his platform to the next floated a tiny ball of light, roughtly the size of his own head. A wisp wraith. Daylen recalled a book he had read a few years ago, with a small summary on the creatures. Demons that had been destroyed or starved clung to life in the form of a wisp, the only thing remaining of them being their intense hatred for anything alive. In the mortal realms, they were associated with legends of hinkypunks and will-o'-wisps, luring unsuspecting travelers to their dooms.
The wisp advanced, bobbing about up and down, as though it had trouble even keeping itself aloft for lack of energy. Daylen put his hands together now, as though to pray, trying to keep calm, until the creature was within range. It stopped, and a low crackle of power began to emit from it. Daylen wouldn't give it the chance.
Pulling his hands apart, he forced his own power out from his hands and into a arc before him, forcing all heat to leave the area. The ground frosted over, and the wisp itself glowed slightly more before flickering out of existance. A perfect sphere of ice hung in the air momentarilly, and then dropped to the earth, shattering on impact. Daylen grinned, and watched as the thin frost immediatly thawed out.
"Well, this might not be so bad." he mumbled.
"Your a fool if you think it's all as easy as fighting wisps." Another voice said, from the vicinity of Daylen's ankles. Daylen swore that he floated above the ground for a few moments, before tripping over backwards. Sitting on it's hind legs before him was a rat roughly the size of a housecat. A rather big house cat. Of course, Daylen had only seen one cat in his life, and that thing had been a brutal mouser. Mr. Wiggums, he was called.
"Your thinking about Mr. Wiggums, aren't you?" The mouse asked. Daylen jolted again. "Oh stop that. If you can't handle a talking mouse, you'll never get past that demon."
"How do you know about Mr. Wiggums?" Daylen asked, grasping for familiar territory.
"Oh please, you think you're the first apprentice I've seen here? The last few couldn't shut up about the bloody thing. Course, the last time I checked he had been possessed by a rage demon."
"Killed three tempars before Senior Enchanter Uldred managed to make it explode." Daylen recalled, remembering the period in which the kitchens had been closed off to purge away all lingering demonic influences and clean up the cat guts.
"Back in my day, the mouser was named Brandy." the mouse sighed, sounding wistful. With a small pop, the mouse vanished and was replaced by a young man wearing yellow and red robes, similar to those of a Senior Enchanter. "I think her name was Brandy...or was it Whiskey? Moonshine? I know it had something to do with alchohol." He muttered, placing a palm on his forehead
"You were an apprentice?" Daylen asked, confused at the sudden transformation.
"So very long ago...I was taken in the night for my Harrowing, just like you. But I took too long to find my demon, and the templars must have killed my body." the man explained. "I've spent so long here...I think. Time doesn't pass here, so...it may have been monthes, or years...err...do you know who I am?" He asked, sounding hopeful. Daylen looked at him closely, and shook his head. He couldn't remember an apprentice who had looked like the man.
"Blast. In that case, you may call me Mouse. It's the only thing I can go by now. The fade plays tricks on your mind, and it takes away everything you used to be...even now I only have flashes of what used to happen in the tower." He admitted. Daylen nodded, sympathetic. However, he was already suspicious of "Mouse". There was something off about the way he talked...and his robes.
"Did all apprentices wear those robes back in your day?" Daylen asked, innocently. "They look an awful like the robes the Senior Enchanters wear now."
"Oh, these...Yes, the apprentices all wore these kinds of robes, I believe. The thing is, when apprentices grow into Senior Enchanters, they are allowed to pick the wardrobe." Mouse said, uninterested. Daylen nodded, trying to hide his discomfort. He knew that the Chantry decided the attire of the mages, though this may have changed over countless years. Still, he didn't trust this convienent assistant, who had already shown how to change his form.
"So...where must I go? I have to finish this quickly, so I can get back." Daylen said, rising back to his feet. Mouse, with another pop, returned to his namesakes form.
"Each platform holds a test for the young mages, spirits of the fade. Come, follow me." With that, the rodent scurried down the first narrow pathway. Daylen cautiously stepped onto the thin rock bridge, ready for it to collapse under his weight. When it didn't, he took another cautious step, then another. Halfway across, his nerves gave out and he made a short, frenzied dash over to the other side, stopping to pant once he had reached relatively solid ground. Hands on his knees, he glanced around for Mouse. The rodent had dissapeared, though Daylen was far from alone.
The platform before him bore what appeared to be a forge, in the open air. A glowing figure in the shape of a man withdrew a five foot, metal rod from the fire and placed it on a long, flat stone table. He held a hand out into empty air, and a tool floated from another stone table over into his hand. He set to work carving small figures and runes into the surface of the rod, which appeared to be some variety of brown metal. Oddly enough, it looked like it was wood, appearing to be grained and sanded, yet had just been pulled out of a fire unscathed.
After the spirit finished carving around the base of the staff, he took one end in both hands and pulled it apart, much like the licorice braids that the younger students snacked on on holidays. He pulled the two strands apart roughly a foot down the rod, and then stretched them, twisting them into two entwining branches ending in leaf shaped wings. Inspecting it, and finding it satisfying, the spirit left the staff upon the table and turned to greet it's visitor.
"Greetings, Young Mortal! I Am Valor, A Spirit Of The Fade." The spirit had a large, booming voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once. It sounded friendly enough, though there was an element of over exageration there, much like the traveling bards and players who would perform theatrical productions. "Yet Another One Of You Mages Forced Into This Cowardly Test." Daylen began to wonder how to politely request Valor lower it's voice, but the glowing figure gave him no time to get a word in edgewise.
"No Matter. I Am Here As Part Of Your Test, Should You Choose To Indulge Me. As You Can See, I Have Just Finished A Fine Staff That Would Aid You Greatly In Your Battle To Come. Do You Wish To Use It?" Valor asked, motioning to his creation with one hand. Daylen glanced at it, noting how perfect it looked as compared to the staffs that the apprentices used, mass produced by Orzammar dwarves. He was about to accept, but caught himself.
"What's the catch?" Daylen asked, noting now that there were many weapon racks that seemed to have only just formed into existance, filled with several lethal looking weapons.
"Ah, A Sharp One! In Order To Have The Honor Of Bearing My Staff, You Must Prove Yourself Worthy In Single Combat Against Me!" Valor held out his right hand, and a longsword detatched itself from it's rack and flew into the spirits welcoming grasp. Holding out his left hand, Valor summoned a shield that slid easilly onto his arm. Once the weapons came into contact with him, they adopted the same steady golden glow that made Valor slightly uncomfortable to look directly at.
"Do I have to...beat you? What happens if you win?"Daylen grew more worried, especially when he noticed how Valor effectivly stood directly between him and the next pathway.
"Oh, Silly Mortal. I Am A Spirit As Old As The Realm We Live In. You, A Fragile Thing, Gone In Mere Decades?" Valor broke into a ringing, booming laugh that failed to settle Daylen's worries to ease. "No, Mortal, You Need Not Defeat Me, Merely Prove Yourself Capable Of Fighting. Should You Prove Worthy Enough, I Shall Stop Our Duel And The Staff Is Yours. Should You Fail, You Shall Fall By My Blade, And It Will Be A Much Easier Death For You Than Whatever Your Hunter Has Devised For You." Valor now adopted a fighters stance, shield out, Sword aloft. "Choose, Mortal."
Daylen gulped, and realized just how unprepared he was for this moment...then he took in a deep breath, and nodded.
"I Accept your-" Daylen was cut off when the blade of Valor whistled past his face, and Daylen topped backwards with a yulp. He landed on his back, and quickly rolled to the right to avoid a downwards stab from the spirit. Daylen jumped to his feet, and held his hands out infront of him, willling power between his palms. A seed for fire appeared there, and he took a deep breath in and pushed outwards with his magic. The flame streamed outwards like water from a geyser, engulfing Valor as it pulled it's sword from the stone ground. The spirit flinched from the flames, but it then turned and advanced through them. Daylen dove aside, and just in time. A shred of his robes sleeves had caught themselves on the edge of the blade, and fluttered to the ground.
Falling to his side after diving out of the way, Daylen looked at his hand, then spat a small gob of saliva onto it. Taking that hand, he slapped it onto the ground. Immediately, a pool of grease rose from the stone, outwards from Daylen's impact. Daylen rolled away in time, and Valor caught his feet within it. Loosing his balance, the spirit fell with a clatter of metal. Daylen backed up now, holding his hands an equidistance apart before him and spinning then, as though he rolled a ball between his palms. In the area he encircled, small sparks began to form. When Valor looked up, it saw Daylen holding a ball of lightning.
"Maker help me." Daylen whispered, and flung the ball outwards. The lightning straightened out into a bolt, and struck Valor head on as he struggled to gain footing in the grease trap spell. The spirit faltered, fell...then calmly stood up again, as though the grease was no trouble. With a wave of his sword, Valor calmly swept the grease off the platform, and strode up to Daylen, who found himself standing against the edge of the Island. His choices seemed to waver between certain death upon a dream blade or possible death falling into a swirling black void.
Valor's sword and shield vanished with another flare of light, almost enough to blind Daylen. He would have indeed tumbled over backwards were it not for Valor's quick hand, which yanked him into the center of the platform, towards the table with the staff. A second hand slapped him heartilly on the back, and Daylen would have been sent sprawling onto the ground were the spirit not holding him up.
"Well Fought, Young Mortal!" Valor spoke with the same lighthearted over the topness as before, as though being burned, greased and electrocuted was an everyday occurance for him. "Very Nice! Now, As I Promised, Here Is Your Staff." The staff in question promptly stood up on it's own on the table, then slowly floated over, hovering directly before Daylen. Daylen grasped it with both hands, and turned to look at the spirit. However, as he opened his mouth, there was a flash of light, and Valor, his forge, and his weapons were gone, leaving only Daylen, a staff, and a few stone tables in the middle of the fade.
However, there was one addition to the landscape. A small brown shape peaking out from behind a table.
"You could have told me about him!" Daylen said, voice rising, glancing at the area where a large chunk of his sleeve had been severed from his robe. However, he did a double take as he noticed his sleeve was once again whole. "Where did you go?"
"I had to hide! Look, Valor was the reason I failed my Harrowing. His duel took up so long and I couldn't get an advantage in time. The templars killed me, and I had to run. Ever time since that I've come near, if he could see me, he would attempt to kill me in order to 'Finish the duel'". Mouse explained, once again taking his human form. "Listen, the next test at the very least is easier. Come on." Returning to his animal form, Mouse scampered away onto the stone bridge. Daylen, hesitant, followed.
The next platform was much like the last one, a disk of stone. However, instead of Valor's forge, there was only one main feature that drew the eye. Dayeln wished that it hadn't, for he was now fighting the urge to vomit into the void.
Daylen remembered the lessons his class had recieved on the Darkspawn taint. It corrupted living things, driving whatever wasn't prepared or treated to madness and an early grave. One scholar had managed to illustrate several examples of creatures corrupted by the darkspawn taint, and this one looked almost exactly like the pictures in his book.
It was the general shape of a bear, but that was where the resemblance stopped. It was twice the size, dwarfing Daylen even while it rested on the ground. It's skin seemed to have been peeled away, leaving it's muscles and organs exposed to the world, and producing a putrid smell. Emerging from several points of the body were sharp spiky fins made of what looked like bone. The eyes were unnaturally yellow, and possessed a worrying intelligence. Daylen gripped his staff, but the bear lazilly raised one paw and gave out a loud yawn.
"Oh stop that. Surely we do not need to resort to violence here. We are all sophisticated, worldly gentlemen, are we not?" The bear's voice was higher than Daylen would have expected, and he spoke as if he was continiously fighting down a yawn.
"...You're a demon." Daylen began, and the bear cut him off.
"Yes, yes, demons bad, evil, destroy, kill, blah blah blah. I am merely here to participate in your test. As you've probably noticed, I block the pathway to the next area." The demon shifted it's bulk, and Daylen noticed that it was indeed directly in the way.
"How can I get you to move?"
"Well, politely asking would be a start." The demon sounded annoyed now. Daylen opened his mouth, but before he could speak, "But it won't work. I lost a battle of wits to one of your mages long ago, so you have to answer my riddles in order to pass, or else I'll devour you...should I feel like it." The demon sounded much like several of the senior enchanters, grumbling, reluctant to be around others, and rather fond of playing around with youths.
"Fine. What's the first riddle?" Daylen asked, growing increasingly annoyed by this entire test. After years of his teachers pounding a fear of this day, in which he would probably die and be burned on a raft, it basically fell down to follow the rodent, trip the swordsman, and answer some riddles.
"I have oceans without water, shores without sand, cities without peope and mountains without peaks." The spirit began, before Daylen cut him off.
"A map."
"Right. Next, I am seldom touched, but often held. If you have wit, you'll use me w-"
"My Tongue."
"The blasted mages have been leaking my riddles, haven't they." The demon sounded exactly like Knight Commander Gregoir the day that he had discovered Anders had managed to magically enhance the growth of a grape vine in order to climb from the apprentice dormitories and flee across the lake.
"Yes." Daylen had been poised these questions by several newly graduated mages who seemed eager to stump the vulnerable apprentices. After figuring it out the first time, he had gotten less and less patient with each sucessive review. "The last answer is a dream, isn't it?"
"Those were the same questions he asked me in my time." Mouse chimed in, sounding almost accusitory.
"...Well, it might have been, but now I see I'll have to ask a new question. Blasted mages...I hate having to replace these." he rumbled. Daylen mentally kicked himself for not lying. "Very well, my clever young friend, you know I am a demon. The question I ask you is what kind am I?" The demon sounded almost smug, and had an expression much akin to Mr. Wiggums after he had eaten Senior Enchanter Jainsbury's pet rabbit.
Daylen backed up, looking over the demon. Demons came in many varieties, feeding off of the sins of mankind. Pride, desire, sloth, hunger, rage...hmm...
Daylen took in another deep breath, and gagged. The smell from the demon had intensified. It smelled like rot, and dust, and decay. He paused, and took in another, tiny sniff. He glanced at the bear, and noticed, despite it's size, it was actually rather thin. It hated to replace things, did not have the energy to move...
"You're a demon of Sloth." Daylen said, hands clenching his staff just in case things turned sour here. The demon, without a word, vanished with a pop, only to re appear, much smaller now, only feet away, barely giving Daylen enough room to pass onto the next path. Mouse quickly shot through the gap, and Daylen inched around.
"Thank you for informing me of the mages." Sloth yawned. "Now away with you. I've grown bored with you." Daylen obliged, heading on to the final platform.
The final platform, much like the one before it, was bare of any features, simply Mouse, waiting for him in the center. Daylen tightened his grip on his staff, ready to fight now, preparing for the mouse to change into something monstrous and demonic. Which was why he was surprised when the fireball engulfed him from behind.
Screaming and shouting, Daylen dove to the side, desperately throwing power over himself to extinguish the flames with a coating of frost. Turning, he saw what appeared to be a cross between a slug, a salamander, and a plant. Growing from one narrow leg that sank into the ground, the creature had two spindly arms that it almost seemed to use to pull itself forward, as though it were rowing a boat. The face was small and reptilian, and the entire body was bright red and partially on fire. Mouse scurried away now, clearly terrified.
"So you've come, mortal...at last, once I've-" The demon began to say in a voice that crackled like logs in a fire before Daylen yanked the heat out of the air around it, freezing it solid fora few seconds. With a frustrated yell, the demon shattered it's icy coating and advanced, clearly not interested in making threats when it's prey had already gone on the offensive. Leaning forward, it unleashed a tongue of flames that Daylen only just managed to avoid, diving to the side and rolling away from a swipe of the claws.
"He's a demon of rage!" Mouse said from somewhere, out of sight. "It's not good at planning ahead!" Daylen nodded, sweeping the staff before him. A small burst of golden energy released itself from the tip as he swung, hitting the demon as though it were a handball. Daylen ducked around, raced to the other side of the platform, and repeated his cold spell again. The demon took slightly longer this time to break out of it's icy shell, which he took as a good sign.
"I SHALL TAKE YOUR BODY AND RAZE THE LANDS OF THE MORTAL REALM FOR THIS!" The demon shouted, advancing faster now. Daylen made a fist, struck the ground, and raised it up. To his right, a large chunk of stone rose to the level of his fist. Daylen threw his hand out, and the fist of stone raced to hit the Rage Demon. Indeed, ever time it was hit, it only grew more and more frenzied. A thrown bolt of lightning followed the stone fist before the demon drew back, with the sound of an intake of air.
"Fireball! Run, run!" Mouse shouted from his hiding place. Daylen ran around the edge of the disk, almost skidding off into the endless void at one point. He had stopped for a moment when the fireball burst over the side of the cliff. The demon had missed him. Daylen turned, and brought power now into his two hands, locking them together and focusing on his hunter.
Now, two ethreal arms of shadows reached down from above, gripping the demon tightly in it's fingers. Daylen squeezed, and the Demon screamed in pain and rage as it was choked. Finally, Daylen took his hands, interlocked his fingers, then ripped them apart. The demon vanished in a cloud of fire as the hands ripped it apart, leaving nothing but a scorched trail in the stone where it had dragged itself along.
Mouse pulled himself up, having apparently been hanging over the edge of the platform. He was human again. Daylen raced over, and the two stood there, on the edge of the stone disk.
"Oh thank the Maker! I can't believe you did it!" Mouse said, with the same tone of voice one might use when they had just seen the King. "You actually did it!"
"I can't believe it was that easy!" Daylen was trying not to laugh now, relieved as he was. His skin smarted, though it showed no signs of being burnt.
"That's because you're one of the true ones! A real, genuine mage!" Mouse said, grasping Daylen's hands with the intensity of a vice. "You've done it! I...I'd lost hope, but...maybe..."
Daylen stopped laughing now, trying to catch his breath, and pull his hands away from Mouse's grasp. For moments, he had let his guard down, assuming Mouse was indeed as harmless as he seemed. "Mouse, let go of my hands. You're hurting me."
"I...I just...I think now I know a way to help myself. Even if my body is dead, perhaps...listen, could you help me? Help me to get out?" He asked, pleading now, desperation showing in his eyes...his curious, golden eyes...
"Yes, yes, as soon as I get back, I'll try to find a way to summon you from the Fade!" Daylen lied, pulling in vain on his hands. Mouse pulled him closer now, faces dangerously close.
"NO! IT MUST BE NOW! IT MUST BE NOW!" He was screaming, almost in pain. "LET ME IN! LET ME IN!"
"LET GO OF ME!" Daylen kicked out with one leg, and pushed Mouse back. There was a moment when the man was suspended in the air, just off of the disk...then he changed.
"Perhaps they are right about you." Mouse's voice was no longer small and weak. Instead, it was deep, powerful, confident in itself. The form shifted, growing taller, wider, muscular. "Know this mage. The true trials one must face are ones of pre conceptions. Judgements. Chances. Trust. And know that true tests never end." Before the monstrous transformation could continue, Daylen blacked out.
