Reflections, Realisations and Regrets
Chapter 7: New Beginnings Part 1
AN: A difficult chapter to write but with EasternViolet's assistance I think its come together well. Hope you like it and, as usual, your thoughts, reviews and reading will help me on my way. Thanks to Bioware for their amazing characters and for allowing me to play with them...
"Solitary confinement units are virtual incubators of psychoses-seeding illness in otherwise healthy inmates and exacerbating illness in those already suffering from mental infirmities."
Ruiz v. Johnson (2001), Human Rights Watch (2003), Ill-Equipped: U.S. Prisons and Offenders with Mental Illness 149 n. 513 (New York: Human Rights Watch)
So began my time of solitude. To fill my days, I wrote up a timetable to keep me busy. Having no window, I couldn't tell the time and used mealtimes as a guide. The first few months went relatively well, or so I thought.
I would wake, make my bed, wash and await my first meal. After eating, I would pass back my tray and swap my latrine for a clean one. Remember this however, the faceless guards outside my door remained silent even though I tried to engage them in conversation. I ended up asking questions and answering as if they had replied. For the first few months, I only spoke with the Knight-Commander.
After the morning meal had come and gone I exercised, doing stretches and sit ups, determined to keep myself in shape as my time outside the Tower had toned my body. This I wanted to keep, and so I did what I could with what I was given. After exercising, I did my laundry and after my mid-day meal I dried it. Afterwards, I'd sit at my desk and write in my journal. Words poured from me, sometimes randomly, sometimes coherent and full of emotions that I never expected to feel again. Greagoir collected my notes at the end of each week and I never saw them again. As a result, I began duplicating the things I wished to keep for myself.
After four months, give or take, I met Mr Wiggums, a cat of indistinguishable colour and parentage. A battle-hardened tom cat through and through, he had a mangled right ear and a scar along his left flank from either a fight with another cat or a templar with a nasty sense of humour. I was hanging up my spare linen clothes when I noticed him out the corner of my eye, sitting on my bed washing his face. Watching me watching him, he tilted his head to one side as if to take my measure and upon finding me non-threatening turned in a circle twice and promptly fell asleep on my bed. For a number of weeks he did this and I found his presence strangely comforting.
The first time I tried to touch him, he growled low and menacingly, his left ear flat against his head, tail swishing from side to side, claws out ready to take my hand from my shoulder. "Hey now puss," I said in a quiet tone "I'm not gonna hurt you, here..."
I held out a piece of meat that I'd saved from my dinner the night before. He eyed me suspiciously and once curiosity got the better of him inched forward on his belly, slowly, inch by inch, bit by bit. He stopped a few inches away from my hand refusing to come any closer and in frustration I placed the morsel on my bed and backed off a couple of paces. He seized his prize and shot under the bed. Sighing I sat at my desk to write in my journal. The next thing I knew my evening meal was at the hatch—a thick broth with slightly hard bread, two pieces of fruit, a jug of water and under the napkin, a thin unopened packet.
Taking a spare bowl I poured a little of the broth into it and set it aside for my visitor. I looked at the packet wondering what it contained and who it could be from. I couldn't contain myself any longer and opened it, inside were two wafer thin cookies one with a "C" scratched onto it the other with an "N". Christie and Neria. I smiled and put them to one side to eat later.
The second bowl had cooled and, as quietly as I could, I called to my guest to come and get his dinner. There was no answer—not a sound, not a peep, neither a growl nor a purr. Getting down on my hands and knees and looked under the bed, I slowly placed the candle on the floor beside me. He wasn't there. Getting up I looked around the cell, and discovered he'd gone. How though, I would've seen him go through the hatch, so would the templar. As far as I could tell, there were no openings through which he could enter or exit the cell. Running a hand over my face I shrugged and sitting back at my desk began to eat.
It was dark when I woke, pitch black. The candle had burnt out or an unexpected breeze had extinguished it. I felt constrained. Something was sitting on me, on my chest, not overly heavy but just "there". Panic swelled and I tried to seize whatever it was. I'd heard nothing, could hear nothing, just a dark impenetrable weight on top of me, holding me down. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, my thinking became foggy and sluggish, my mind raced then slowed. I lost myself in the darkness of my panic.
Pulling myself together, I conjured a small wisp and panic became terror when a single yellow eye looked at me, unmoving, unblinking. I felt a scream build in my chest, begging for release. Then it was gone, the weight, the eye, the darkness. The wisp, sensing my distress, grew brighter until it illuminated my cell in all its grotty glory. I fell out of the bed onto my hands and knees, lit the fire in the grate and fumbled with the box under the bed for a candle which I lit with a sigh. The cold from the floor penetrated my hands, knees and mind, slowly pulling me back from the edge of the precipice I was hovering over. I counted to ten and pulled myself to my feet, staggered to the chair and sat down before my legs gave out.
Once more out of the corner of my eye I saw a tail disappear out of the door, which was closed and locked and impenetrable and...
I woke again, cold, shivering and not at all sure what had happened. Had I dreamt the presence? Had it been a nightmare, a dream, or had it been Mr Wiggums? How did he get in, and how did he leave? I was confused, cold and for perhaps the first time in my life, totally petrified.
The candle was shining brightly from where I'd left it, but my wisp had disappeared, so I conjured a new one. Its' pure light warmed me in a way that fire couldn't. It made me feel real, protected and in control. My hands were shaking; whether from cold or shock I couldn't tell. I was scared and confused, no doubt there, but I needed to understand what was happening to me.
Who could I speak to? Who could I ask for? Should I speak to Greagoir? Should I ask for Irving? My mind whirled, the wisp blinked and I focused on its warm light, and with its limited help, I began to centre myself, grounding myself to the here and now.
I didn't see the cat for the next few days and was able to settle back into my routine. I wrote about my experience in my journal and copied it, putting it in my box beside my bed for safe keeping. I occupied my mind with trivial things, writing out spells, ones I knew by heart and others I would try at a later date, elemental spells which I believed would work as a combination array for battle mages. They would require experimentation and I would have to gain permission. Whether I got it or not, it kept my mind busy. When I got fed up of spells, I wrote out alchemical recipes, creating my own book of remedies and came up new ones. This I did for a number of days, until he returned...
I stood up and stretched my back, arms, hands and legs. I was stiff from sitting for so long in one position and I needed to relax and loosen up my sore and aching muscles. I heard the hatch open and turned to the door to see my mid-day meal pushed through the opening. I took it with a quiet "thank you" to the guard on duty, put the tray on the table. When I sat down again, I noticed movement from under my bed — a head, a body, a tail. He jumped onto my bed, curled up and fell asleep. I glanced at the hatch in the door. It was closed. I looked at the cat. He slept. Unperturbed.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose, as did the ones on my arms and various other parts of my anatomy. Trying to ignore my "visitor" I turned back to my tray and tried to concentrate on eating. Even now, in the cold light of day, I couldn't tell you what I ate, or whether I finished it. All I can remember is I needed to do something mundane, something real, so I ate, drank and ate some more.
Once I'd finished, I looked back at the bed. He was still there, awake, and watching me. He fixed that one yellow orb upon me and I couldn't look away. I trembled with trepidation and I forced myself to concentrate, to think, to keep control of myself.
"What do you want?" I stuttered, "Who are you? Where did you come from?"
As if considering my words, he tilted his head and looked at me. He rose slowly, deliberately with that easy sinuousness sedate seductiveness that all felines seem to possess. Once he finished stretching, he sat and looked at me his yellow eye glowing and bright. The other, white and murky, seemed to shimmer in its depths.
He smiled at me and said "I've been watching you for some time now Anders."
Standing suddenly the chair shot back and hit the wall with enough force to break the back... "Wha...whhaaa." I stammered, unable to formulate words. I couldn't believe that he had actually spoken to me. Cats don't talk, they purr, meow, growl but they definitely don't talk.
"Easy Anders, easy. I'm not going to hurt you. No. Not at all. That would defeat the object of my being here." he said. "I want to be your friend. You need a friend Anders. You're all alone down here, in the depths, in the dark. I could be your friend Anders. You just have to ask me and I will be your friend."
"Whooo are yoouuu..? What.. no.. how did you get in here?" I said. I fought for control. I needed to stay in control. I needed to be strong and if I didn't, I was lost.
"You have such an affinity for spirits, my friend. But they are weak, I can give you more, so much more power than they have. You would have more power than you would know what to do with. I could release you Anders, I could set you free. All you have to do is ask me to be your friend. Just ask me Anders, its easy, all you have to do is ask."
I blinked, he was offering me power, freedom, everything I ever wanted and more. I took a step forward and his grin grew bigger, and his feral eye glowed brighter.
"What would you want in return?" I asked "Surely you want more than "friendship", it seems rather one-sided to me." My mind whirled, I needed to get in control of this situation and fast. I was in danger. My magic was suppressed, I was defenceless. The last demon I'd met was in the Fade during my Harrowing and that had been under the control of the Senior Enchanters and templars. This one had turned up uninvited and totally in control of itself.
"Your friendship is all I need," he said "anything else would be a bonus, but of course we can discuss all the minor details at a later date, once we are far away from here and you are safe."
"This is so unexpected. Why me, surely there are others more suited to you, others that you can aid more easily than I?" I asked.
"You are powerful, my friend. You give freely of yourself and require nothing in return. All you want is your freedom and I, well I am in a position to grant that to you. I can give you anything you want. You could have me, I'm sure you'd find my true form to your taste, and if not, command me and I will become what or who you want. Ours will be a two-way relationship Anders, give and take from both sides. I am not like others who would use you up and throw you away."
From the corner of my eye I noticed the cell door beginning to slowly and quietly open. I needed to keep the "cat" talking, distracted and focused on me. Help was coming and I needed to gain my tormentor's trust in order to to get my rescuers in with little or no discovery.
"Show your true self to me. If we are to be friends then there should be nothing between us. You say you know me well, then let me know you too."
The cat grinned even more widely than before. It shimmered, changed shape and floated above the bed, moving towards me. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide. I wanted to scream, shout, throw fire, ice, anything to get rid of it. I stayed quiet, watching and waiting. With wide eyes, my mouth fell open as I watched the cat become a woman, beautiful, terrible and amazing to behold. Her body was shamelessly uncovered, bare from the waist up, her skin shimmering, rippling and glowing. Eyes yellow like the cat's, but beautiful, entrancing and they caught me in their glow. Her arms stretched above her head, her smile broad and inviting. Her long legs and tail shifted and shimmered.
My eyes locked in her stare. I drowned in her light and in that moment I would have given her everything, everyone. My face felt hot, my body tightened in response to her form. I was losing the battle, but I needed to win the war for my soul. I didn't think I'd manage to do it without help.
The door swung wide open and in the light that streamed through, stood First Enchanter Irving, Senior Enchanter Torrin, Greagoir and two other templars. When the two mages glanced at me, I hit the floor and crawled under the table. Fire, ice and metal hurtled through the room. I closed my eyes and ears to the fight her cries for help. Her cries became screams and her screams gave way to silence.
I huddled under the table, not breathing, not moving. I could smell burning flesh, and blood. The heat from fire and the cold from ice that laid at my feet and around my still form.
"Anders," came a soft voice. "Anders, it's all right. You're safe. You denied her. You did well."
Opening my eyes, I saw Irving and Torrin crouching in front of me. "Come on out Anders" said Torrin "We're too old to be kneeling on a stone floor, boy."
With a snort, part laugh and cry, I uncurled and crawled out from under the table, shakily getting to my feet. I wiped a hand over my eyes and let out a loud sigh, or maybe it was a sob.
"How...how did you know?" I asked weakly. "Thank you for coming, I couldn't have gotten rid of her by myself, but I still don't understand how you knew what was happening."
Greagoir came over, handing me a mug of water. "Your journal." he said. "You wrote about a cat that was coming to see you. The only cats are either in the cellars or on the upper floors. Then I read about the night visit and I realised what was happening. The demon was visiting you whilst you slept and fed off your power whilst in the Fade, learning about you, your friends, your hopes and fears."
My shoulders slumped in fatigue and tiredness swept over me. "Thank you Knight-Commander, I guess my writing saved my life."
"We've been monitoring you day and night since my last visit." he added. "Irving and Torrin agreed to stay nearby in order to aid you should the demon manifest and try and take you."
"I've told you time and again Greagoir," said Irving "solitary confinement should not be used on mages. It invites demons and other malevolent spirits not only into a mage's dreams, but manifest as a mage's desires. They slowly take over the mage, and if not caught quickly enough, the only option is death."
I looked at Irving and he continued. "In your case Anders, you wanted a friend, anyone or anything to ease your loneliness. It picked up your love of cats and used it against you. Clever, very clever, but not clever enough."
"What now?" I asked. In truth I was too tired to care. I was still in shock, still scared and yes, I was angry. They'd known and not done anything before now. The demon could've killed me or worse and here I was trying to understand all this and more. I also seemed to be failing miserably as exhaustion started to take me.
"We need to discuss this further." said Greagoir looking pointedly at Irving "And clean up this mess. We'll move you to a new cell, one floor up, I think."
With that they left. I was relocated to a new cell with a window, I was given more books, parchment and ink and also a surprise visitor.
Neria. One of my truest friends appeared at my door. At first I thought I was imagining things, her elven features were so familiar, yet so different. Her lavender eyes penetrated mine and my tears threatened to overflow. She stepped forward and grasped my hands.
"Anders." she breathed and I knew she was real.
Irving stood behind her. He nodded once and shut the door. I was shocked. What was she doing here? What was going on? She sat on the chair by the desk and I sat on the edge of the bed. We stared at each other, not knowing what to say or how to begin.
"Well now Anders," she said, "what will you do next, I wonder?"
At that, I had to laugh, to hear her speak and sound as if all I'd done was take a trip around the island. It was wonderful to have her laughing with me. Her hand touched my face, stroking the weeks' worth of beard. The touch of another human being, after being alone for so long, was an amazing feeling. I hadn't realised how much I needed it, dreamt about it and ached for it.
"I'm only allowed to shave once a week, when I am allowed to use the baths." I explained. "I'm not allowed a razor here in case I hurt myself or use it on the guard."
Tilting her head to one side she regarded me seriously and said "It suits you. Makes you look distinguished." With that, she laughed again before taking my hand in hers.
After a few minutes I gave myself a mental shake. A myriad of questions flowed through me that I needed to ask.
"Why are you here?" I asked, "What game are they playing now?"
"No games," she said softly "I need your help."
I looked at her, seeing anxiety in her eyes. Fear gripped me. "What's happened, are you in trouble?"
"No," she said, "nothing like that. I need your help with my Harrowing, well actually with my healing magic. Irving says I must improve or I'll not be allowed to undertake it. Christie and Jowan have already gone and there is no-one else I trust more than you. Niall is busy with Senior Enchanter Torrin working on some hush-hush project, whilst Kinnon and Petra are too busy with the apprentices. There is no-one else, Anders, who knows healing magic like you do. Please say you'll help me."
"Wait. Wait one minute. What do you mean Jowan and Christie have gone. Gone where?" I demanded.
"Of course you don't know." She put her hand to her mouth, looking apologetic. "I'm only allowed an hour a day with you, if you agree to this. I'll have to make this quick."
"Christie went through her Harrowing nearly a month ago and passed. We all knew she would—you would have been so proud of her Anders." She paused with a faraway look in her eyes, before continuing. "Anyway, she was caught up in a scheme of Jowan's, I don't know the whys and wherefores but, she helped him escape after he was accused of being a blood mage."
Once again, I found myself totally stunned, I'd been out of circulation for a few weeks and the world had gone mad. Jowan was a blood mage and Christie assisted in his escape. That couldn't be right. No, not at all. It had to be a trick.
I looked at Neria who nodded and said "Yes." She watched the play of my emotions cross my face. "It's true. Apparently, she helped him destroy his phylactery. Greagoir and Irving were waiting for them when they came out of the chambers. Greagoir immediately sentenced Jowan to death and Lily to the Mage's Prison, Aeonar. Christie..."
"No, no, no, wait, who's Lily?" My mind reeled, trying to take in all she was saying.
"Ah right… Lily was a Chantry initiate whom Jowan was in love with. Anyway, Jowan went crazy when the templars tried to take her. He stabbed himself in the hand and performed a blood rite. After Lily spurned him, he ran. Once Christie managed to rouse Irving, Greagoir and the templars who'd been injured, Lily surrendered herself to Greagoir and was taken to Aeonar. The Knight-Commander was totally furious and said that Christie was to be taken back to the Harrowing Chamber to be made tranquil."
My blood ran cold on hearing this. A Harrowed mage being made tranquil, this was unlawful except in the cases were a mage asked for it or had become unable to control their magics without harm to themselves or others. To have it imposed as a punishment was a fate worse than death. My head swam, and I felt faint. From a distance, I heard Neria's voice calling me.
"It's ok, Anders. Christie isn't tranquil, she was saved by Duncan. She's a Grey Warden now."
