~O~
Chapter Four: Periculosus
Poor planning, Rebeka thought as she trudged down a dusty road. Poor planning, poor planning. She repeated it to herself like some sort of dull mantra, each word matched with an answering thump as her feet connected with the hard packed dust beneath her.
It kept her from thinking of other things.
But of course as soon as that thought entered her brain, it brought forth that terrible scene from the hall. The worst part had been the look in Jowan's eyes as the knife plunged into his arm. He had looked half crazed, his eyes far too bright. His face had been twisted into some sort of mask of his former self, barely recognizable to Rebeka. But when he'd backed away from Lily and Marie, all she'd seen was fear.
"It was the blood magic," she muttered. It was partly to relieve the silence of the empty landscape. It pounded at her ears, the quiet. Rebeka had never known true and utter silence before. It almost made her wish for a templar to clank and jingle behind her.
She shivered. "No, don't go wishing for that," she told herself sternly. She spotted a clump of boulders near the roadside. Time for a rest.
The sun was high in the sky, just past its zenith, and despite being winter it shone with an unusual clarity. Rebeka unpeeled the clump of handkerchiefs from her pocket, making a face at the squished lump of food inside. It had been unsavory to begin with, but now…? She wrinkled her nose and began to eat.
What worried her most was her lack of money, followed by her unfortunately distinctive robes. With no practical skills that didn't involve magic, she couldn't earn money. With the intricate blue apprentice robes, she would only earn the attention of murderous templars.
The little food she'd scrounged didn't make a huge meal. A few mouthfuls at best, and then Rebeka was on the move again. Where she was going, she had no idea. Just away from the templars. Perhaps she'd go to Gwaren, find some work in the port city. Of course, that would mean traveling all the way across the entire breadth of the country. Highever then? It was closer, but more a land of farmholds and livestock. She didn't have the right… skill-set for that kind of work. So that left Denerim…
"Stop!" The word rang out in the still air. Rebeka came to a stop as quickly as if she'd hit a wall.
Standing in the road in front of her was a group of men. They were all dirty and unkempt, and Rebeka could see that their rough leather armor and short swords were not well taken care of. Her heart began to pound as they drew nearer. Swords on men like this could not be anything but trouble.
"Well, 'ello girlie." A man had moved to the front of the group. He had mean dark eyes, like the spirit nug the apprentices all summoned during their training. His eyes looked slightly watery, and once again Rebeka was reminded of the ugly, rat-like creatures. "Are you all alone out here in the big empty open?"
The men were moving casually to surround her. Their intentions were anything but good. "What if I said no?" she asked sweetly, tilting her head like a puppy's to the side.
"Well, darling, I'd apologize for botherin' you and we'd be on our way," the man said condescendingly. Rebeka felt annoyance begin to sizzle in her head at his patronizing tone and pet names. It battled with her suspicion and wariness as she gazed into his dark, ugly eyes. His tone grew sinister. "The thing is, I don't see anyone here with you besides me and my boys."
He stalked forward. Rebeka could see the hunger in his eyes. "Ah, I see. You equate my being alone to my being defenseless." Anger, held at bay for the past few minutes, began to boil up inside her. How many other girls had fallen prey to him and his gang? "I assure you, this is not the case," she hissed.
And suddenly, the Veil ripped. An intangible shockwave of energy ripped through the air around the mage.
The runny eyed leader began to scream in terror as the effects of her Horror spell hit him. His own demons caused him to cringe and cry with the sheer and utter fright. Two men crumpled to the ground, asleep, in a more forcible version of the spell she'd used on the templars back in the Tower. They began to twitch and roll as another Horror spell winged into their dreaming minds.
A metallic scrape sounded from behind Rebeka. She whirled to see one of the men striking towards her neck with his rust-spotted sword. She had no doubt that it was sharp enough to do the job. With a sudden rush of adrenaline she froze the joints in his arm solid, stopping the blow. Another man came from behind her, thumping up clumsily as he tried to free his sword from its scabbard with shaking hands. His fear was almost comical to her in her adrenaline-high state, and Rebeka cast a Horror on him that he succumbed to with little resistance.
But she'd forgotten the one behind her in her haste. Before she could turn, a brutally hard fist slammed into the back of her skull, tossing her to the ground. Rebeka tried to blink the spots from her eyes, feeling dizzy. Her vision was clearing so slowly…
The man picked up his sword from the ground where it lay with his un-frozen hand, holding it awkwardly. His filth-streaked face leered above Rebeka as she lay sprawled on the ground, defenseless. He raised the sword to strike. Rebeka's hand flashed up an instant before the man's sword flashed down. With a mighty burst of light that ripped through the air and a crack that shook the countryside, a bolt of lightning flashed from Rebeka's outstretched hand.
The man crumpled with an agonized cry. For a few moments, Rebeka slumped on the ground, listening to the shrieks and cries of tortured men. When she gained the strength to crawl, she shimmied over to the man she'd shocked. There was no pulse at his neck. The mess of burned skin on his chest was horrifying to look at.
Rebeka stumbled away, resisting the urge to throw up her lunch. She didn't notice the tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes. The screams of the men, minus one, faded away in the distance.
~O~
The smell of vomit, once she'd finally lost her fight with her rebellious stomach, still clung to Rebeka as she sat huddled up against the bole of a tree. It repulsed her almost as much as her hand did, the one that had released that fatal bolt of lightning. She had never expected to kill anyone, never in her life dreamed that she would be capable of that horrible act.
He deserved to die. I couldn't let him kill me. It was me or him. He would have gone on to do worse things to other girls. The arguments chased each other around her head. None offered any solace.
What finally jolted Rebeka from her stupor was a loud growl from her stomach. She laughed wetly.
"Time to stop feeling sorry for myself, I guess. He had it worse off than I did, and he's not crying." She didn't stop to point out the lack of sense in that statement to herself.
The grumble reminded her of her previous worries. And though she would rather have left those evil men behind in the dirt, survival was worth more than her bruised feelings.
Rebeka walked back down the road towards a band of men with leather armor and tortured dreams.
~O~
Not all of the men were there when she returned. The dead man still lay on the ground, his chest a mess that Rebeka wasn't prepared to deal with. She put the cold, sharp attitude back on, shrugging it on like a set of robes. It was a defense, and a better one than her lightning had turned out to be. The two men she'd put to sleep were still on the ground, more peaceful now.
Sighing, she stripped one of them, searching his pockets for hidden coins. She left the armor in a pile, going instead for the rough shirt and pants beneath. She grimaced at the smell, but laid them aside and continued her search of the other man. She came up with a pouch with less than a half a sovereign. Perhaps forty five silvers, all told. It would have to do.
"And now…" she muttered. She lifted her hand to renew the Horror, choosing the images carefully, letting their own nightmares do the work.
Rebeka walked away once again, calm and cold, with her money and her clothes. Problems solved, problems created. The moaning of the two men behind her resumed as they found themselves trapped in nightmares with all the helpless girls they'd harmed.
~O~
Rebeka's foot slipped into a deep wagon rut in the road. She stumbled, catching herself with a curse.
She looked around with an expression of mild surprise. Twilight had fallen on the landscape around her, cloaking the wilderness around her in soft darkness. It softened the sharp contours of the pine trees and boulders scattered around.
Rebeka scanned the area urgently once she came to that realization, feeling the cold that was beginning to set in. There was a frightening lack of shelter.
She tripped again, darkness shadowing the pitted dirt road. As she once again saved herself from a face-plant, her eyes lit on a tiny shack tucked into a hill beside the road. Rebeka sighed in relief. She stumbled over to it, cursing wagons and mud and rain as she went.
The shack was tiny and had cracks in the age worn wood that made it up. Some animal had made a nest in there recently. But it was dry, and it was out of the wind. There was a roof above her head, if just barely. Rebeka sank down to the floor, weary and heart-sore. It's not exactly my snuggly bunk in the Tower…but it's something…
~O~
Rebeka opened her eyes in the Fade. She inhaled deeply, smiling as the blue-white lyrium streamed into her tired body. It made her skin tingle pleasantly, gave her energy.
The Fade-scape was different. She hadn't realized it, but the Fade took a usual shape near the Tower. As she looked around, she saw that it mirrored the general landscape she'd been traveling through. The road was off to her right, running parallel to the small rise she was on. She wandered over to it and a small chuckle escaped her.
The ruts in the road were no longer ruts; they were raised bumps. Spirits.
Rebeka sighed, no longer in the mood to wander the Fade. But she was stuck there until she woke up. She levitated a pebble and absentmindedly tossed it off the edge. It fell down and down and down…
A pebble clattered down the hill behind her. Rebeka whirled. Her eyes hardened.
Before her and a few feet above her as though it was a king standing on a dais, a creature resembling a man slid to a stop. His face was greyish and cruel, his robes rich. He wore a small crown. His eyes gleamed with a reddish hue, like slowly drying blood.
"What do you want, pride demon?" she said coldly. Over his shoulder, Rebeka could just barely make out a pair of fearful black eyes floating in a purple smudge. Her eyes flicked back to the pride demon.
His smile was self-satisfied, condescending. "Child, what does any demon want?" His eyes flashed with a bloody burst of light, slamming into Rebeka with a palpable force. Down to her knees she went with a gasp.
When her vision cleared, Rebeka's heart sank. She was back on the road, the sun high above her. A group of dirty men surrounded a blue clad girl. She watched from behind the ring of men as an ugly, runny eyed man gave a short, self-satisfied speech, as the girl tipped her head and chirped a few words.
She watched as three of the men fell to the ground and screamed at their own nightmares.
She watched, and as she did she heard a soft, sinuous voice wrapping around her mind, whispering to her…
"You see?" it whispered. "Look at how you rejoice in their fear. They are yours to control, and you take pleasure in that fact…" Rebeka shook her head, but she could not tear her eyes away from the scene in front of her. The demon's power held her in an iron grip.
A man's arm froze solid, and the girl whirled away too quickly for Rebeka to see her face. Another man ran, shrieking, from the slight blue figure. An audible thunk came as the girl was knocked to the ground.
And finally, Rebeka could see the girl's expression. The pride demon's low chuckle surrounded her, urging her to look closer at the hate and bestial joy that mixed on her face. Time seemed to slow as the man's sword flew down towards her neck. An expression of twisted elation lifted her features as her hand shot up and loosed that fatal bolt.
"It is power that you desire," the demon whispered triumphantly. "You love their fear, you take joy in killing. You deserve it, with the wondrous power you have. But you crave it, and you know how much more I can give." The man crumpled to the ground. Rebeka wanted to scream; the guilt and fear and anger whirling in her head were too much to bear. "We see your heart, and we know it is ours."
"You should have stayed in your Tower, girl, for it will not be long before you are mine!"
~O~
Rebeka flew upright with a gasp. No, no, no, she thought. Her heart was racing in her chest. Her mind was still reeling from the emotions that had rocketed through her mind. The sheer power of the pride demon was frightening.
Two things were clear however.
One, her dream realm, which had always seemed so comforting in the past, was no longer a safe refuge. She'd have to be much stronger to deal with this harsh new world.
Two, she was not invincible. Twice in one day she'd come near the brink of death and managed to scrape by. That would not do. She felt cool resolve harden in her gut.
Cold as steel, Rebeka gathered her meager belongings and set out from the shack.
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