It didn't take long the next morning to make their way back to the road. Violet had to admit, at least to herself, that she did feel better after a full night's sleep. She hadn't woken at all when Sebastian and Fenris had switched places halfway through the night — and she was usually a light sleeper.
She kept half an eye on Sebastian, but he didn't seem the worse for wear for having taken her shift the night before. They had spoken little that morning during their search for the road, and even after they'd resumed their southward progress. Of course, there was still a risk of pursuit from the village or more rogue mages, so keeping quiet seemed wise.
The road beyond was steep, twisting back and forth up the hill. At the edges of some of the turns, the road was damp with the spray of the stream that bounced its way down the mountainside. As the day wore on and the sun grew hotter, Vi found herself looking forward to those parts of the walk, and daydreamed about standing in the middle of the stream, clothes and all. She could certainly use a shower. But Fenris was anxious to put more space between them and anyone following, so onward they went.
It was late afternoon before they reached the upper part of the hill, where the water fell in earnest. The air was cool with mist and the roar of the fall against the rocks was louder than she would have expected so late in the season. There should be a lake beyond the last rise, she remembered from their crude copied map. Maybe she'd be able to get herself a bath after all.
When they reached the top, all three of them stopped to catch their breath and stare. The lake was deep, reflecting back the hazy blue of the sky. It stretched for what looked like miles to lap the base of another rocky cliff. On one side the forest came down towards the water's edge, and the bank was piled with boulders. During the early spring, the water must lap the roots of the lowest trees. On the other side, there was a long sloping muddy bank leading to an open meadow. The road split before them - a rickety looking stone bridge crossed the top of the fall leading to the meadow. On their side of the water, the track, fainter here, wound into the trees.
"It's beautiful," said Sebastian.
Vi nodded. "And huge. I'd no idea there would be so much water at this time of year."
"We should move on," said Fenris.
"I was thinking camp and a bath," said Violet.
"Not here. Further in, perhaps." Fenris began walking toward the forest.
"You think the people from the village will come looking all the way up here?" Vi asked, irritated, but trailing after him anyway. "It's nearly harvest time. They have more important things to do than chase us."
"Nonetheless." He adjusted his pack and kept walking.
She let him lead them through the woods for almost an hour before she stopped walking.
"This is a perfect place to camp," she said. She waited until he turned around to explain. "We're a little way from the water, so there will be fewer bugs, but we can still get there relatively easily. The tent will fit perfectly between those two trees, once we clear that rock out of the way. There's even a decent place to build a fire. I'm dying to make flatbread. And tea. Sweet Maker, let there be tea."
Fenris frowned.
"I think we all could do with an early finish today," said Sebastian. "I, for one, would like a bath."
"Fine," said Fenris.
Oh, when Sebastian wants to stop, we stop, huffed Vi to herself. But I'm just a stupid mage. What do I know? She dropped her pack in the dirt and made her way toward the rock she'd wanted to move. She could probably roll it by herself, even without magic. Might help her work off some of her irritation.
A couple hours later, when camp was set up and the fire going, and she was blessedly clean and sinking her teeth into some bread at long last - okay, it was flatbread, but it was warm and fresh and did not taste like the inside of her pack - she began to feel a bit better. Sebastian was looking over some feathers he'd picked up during the day to maybe fletch some new arrows, while Fenris was sharpening his sword. She was still angry over yesterday, but the physical comforts helped her push it down. Done was done, and Fenris had said nothing he hadn't already said many times before. She would set it aside, and maybe they'd all survive this trip after all.
#
She's walking through a strange building. Corridor after corridor unravel before her, empty room after empty room. The furniture has been pushed over, clothing strewn about the floor. Whoever lived here must have left in a hurry, she thinks. Suddenly, there is a great boom, like the exploding of a far off cannon or the slamming of a great door.
"Did you hear that?" she asks Fenris.
When he doesn't answer, she turns around. He is not there. He had been with her just moments ago - she is certain of it. Where could he have gone? She stops to listen - hears nothing. But Fenris moves as quietly as a cat. She retraces her steps. Empty room, hallway, pass three empty rooms, turn right down another corridor. He is not there. Suddenly Violet realizes she can't remember the last time she saw him. They were looking for something. His family? Something important. And now he is gone, and she is lost in the depths of an old forgotten building, unsure of the way out.
She turns and races back, searching for the source of the noise. Maybe it was Fenris, maybe he is hurt, injured. He needs her. She runs through the long grey corridors, her movements feeling slow, hindered, as though the air is holding her back. Finally, she makes her way to the last room. It is empty other than a large metal door. The door is shut. She goes to it, tries to open it, but it is barred from the outside.
Fenris has been through this door. She knows it, as sure as she knows her own name. He has gone through it and barred it behind him. She is trapped.
Angry and alarmed, she hurries down another hallway and finds a spiral staircase. Perhaps if she can get up - to the roof perhaps - she can figure out the layout and find an exit. So she takes the stairs. Up, up, up. There is a window ahead - as she reaches it she sees it is no more than an arrow slit, so tiny she could scarcely push her littlest finger through the gap. She presses her eye to the opening, but sees only the glare of sunlight on cloud, the grey of stone. She has to keep going. Up, up, up. The higher she goes, the narrower the staircase gets. Heights bother Violet a little, but confined spaces are worse. Soon both her shoulders brush the wall, as she pulls herself up with her hands, the way more ladder-like than stair-like. She draws a deep breath and tries not to whimper. She can't panic, not now. If she doesn't make it to the top, she'll never find her way out.
Finally, there is more light ahead. She worries it will be another arrow slit, but instead she has reached the top of the stairs. She peeks out - the tower ends in a long platform. A kind of bridge, she thinks - there must be another tower on the other end. She pulls herself out of the stairwell and onto the platform. The wind pushes her as she stands, shoving her toward the edge. She braces against it and looks down.
Far below is the sea. On the sea is a boat. It is so small, not because the boat is small but because it is far away, sailing off into the distance.
Fenris is on this ship. He has found his sister and left with her, abandoning Violet and her magic to rot in this castle all alone. He is gone, and has not bothered to even say goodbye. Her cheeks flush with anger and betrayal. Rage builds in her stomach, setting fire to her gut. After everything they have been through, all the things she has done, all the times she has taken his part. He is gone and hasn't taken the time to even tell her why.
The skies are stormy. She could pull the lightning down, even from so far away, and turn the ship to ash. She could drown them all and have her revenge.
She knows the demon is behind her before she turns. She has called it herself with the strength of her anger. Its fire heats her shoulder as she turns, holding out her hand for the staff she knows will appear.
Ice is the best weapon against a rage demon, Violet knows. But Bethany was the one who was good at elemental magic. She throws horror at the demon instead, sparing a brief thought at how strange it is that even demons know horror. She follows that up with a blast of lightning, so easy to pull out of the stormy sky. But she has failed to realize that there's another demon circling behind her. It reaches for her with hands of flame, burning her back and shoulder. She wheels and staggers back. There is a pull on her ankle and she stumbles, her foot sliding off the edge of the platform.
She is falling.
#
Fenris woke to the sound of Violet thrashing among her blankets. He'd heard her wake Sebastian for his watch, and listened to her climbing into her blankets. Her movements were quiet but the air felt tense. He knew she was still angry. It was not that he tried to upset her. He just knew she must stop judging all mages by herself. Few mages were like Violet. Perhaps no other mages were as strong in will and purpose as she. No other mage could be trusted. But they had never been able to have a civil conversation on the subject.
He had been able to will himself back to sleep, at first. There had been many nights Violet had gone to bed angry with him, and there would likely be many more. He slept until she began dreaming again. He kept his eyes closed at first, hoping it would pass. Sometimes she would grow calm on her own, or wake herself. But she made small distressed noises, and he heard footsteps crunching in the needles outside the tent. Sebastian was coming to investigate.
Something about the sight of them comforting one another after Violet's last dream had irritated Fenris, setting his teeth on edge even now. Their tent was just a drape of fabric with no doors; it had been easy enough to see from where he stood on watch. How she had clung to him, and how he had pulled her close, soothing her, speaking softly into her hair.
He would rather not see that again. He twitched his cloak aside and rose to his knees near Violet's feet, half to block Sebastian's progress, half to get out of range of her erratic fists.
"Violet," he said firmly. There was no change, though Sebastian's footsteps paused. "Violet," he tried again, "wake up." He found her ankle through the blanket and gave it a firm shake. "Wake up."
With a gasp, she sat upright. There was a halo of static energy around her, framing her face and pulsing blue around her hands. She stared with wild eyes, though he doubted she could see his face with the fire light behind him.
"It was a dream," he said firmly. She'd set the tent alight if she wasn't careful, and there was something he did not like in her expression.
Her mouth twisted. "I need air. Get out of the way."
Without waiting for a response, she shoved her cloak aside and staggered to her feet. Fenris leaned back as she barreled past.
He heard Sebastian speaking, concern in his voice. Fenris reached for his sword before leaving the tent, and seized Sebastian's wrist before he could pursue her.
"Wait," he said in an undertone.
Violet had moved to the very edge of the circle of firelight, facing the dark. Her arms were wrapped around her body as though she were holding herself upright.
Sebastian took another step toward her, but Fenris held firm.
"Something is not right," he said. "Stay back."
He hefted his sword and moved toward her. He had been with Violet a long time, but he had rarely seen her lose control enough to spark electricity from her skin, even when waking from a nightmare. Everyone knew that mages faced demons in the Fade while they slept. He had to be sure she was not possessed.
Sebastian kept pace right behind him. Fenris wished he would stay back. He didn't know what would happen now and didn't want him hurt. He made a curt gesture with his left hand, and the footsteps stopped.
Fenris paused a few feet behind Violet.
"Hawke." He'd slipped and called her by the old name. But it mattered little. "What is wrong?"
When she turned, her face was streaked with tears but her eyes were angry. "Like you said, it was a dream. Just a blighted dream."
"Then what is the problem?"
Her jaw tightened. "Have you never had a dream that made you angry?" She bit each word as though it had done her an offense. "Or do you not remember yours?"
"I have woken feeling sad, or hurt," said Sebastian softly. He had moved close again. "But the feeling is cloudy, and I can rarely remember the cause."
Fenris said nothing. She looked at the sword in his hand before smiling bitterly.
"Well. The joy of magic means I often remember. So if you'll excuse me, Fenris, piss off. You'll have to decide if I'm an abomination later. Right now — I can't talk to you."
She turned and strode off into the darkness, stumbling over the uneven ground outside of their camp. After banging her shin on something large — Fenris had a vague memory of a fallen log in that direction — she dropped down to the ground, covering her face with her hands.
He felt — he was not sure what. Sick to his stomach. Angry. Worried. He knew she had never tried to trifle with demons. But still, he'd seen it happen too many times.
Sebastian laid a hand on Fenris' shoulder. "You should sit, or go back to sleep. I'll talk to her. I'll be careful," he added, before Fenris could open his mouth. "But I don't think she's possessed — only upset."
"Over a dream?"
Sebastian blinked at him, his blue eyes calm and steady. They were the eyes of a Chantry brother, ministering to the faithful. "They say dreams are a reflection of our hopes and fears. Hers likely has its roots in something deep, to make her so upset. It may help her to speak of it. But I think not to you — not yet. Go rest."
Fenris retreated. He sat next to the remains of the fire with his sword at his feet, though he was not cold. He tried not to watch as Sebastian settled down beside Violet, murmuring into her ear, calming her.
It put him on edge, the way Sebastian fussed over her like a hen with a single chick. He was not jealous. There was no reason for jealousy. He only hoped... on this journey they might have time to talk the way they used to. That Sebastian would smile in his kind way, ask questions in his lilting voice, and help pick apart the things that troubled him. But since he'd found out about Violet's dreams, his attention had been elsewhere.
He looked over at them again. Sebastian held both of Violet's hands in his and was speaking to her earnestly. Fenris looked away again. Pushing to his feet, he moved past the fire, looking out into the blackness of the night.
He felt guilty about Violet. She needed... support. Affection. Things Fenris couldn't give her. They both knew it to be true. He just... couldn't. But now Sebastian was here. Already she had grown more like her old self — she smiled more, talked more. His old regret re-surfaced at the sight of it. Maybe if he... but that was foolish. There was no point in ifs.
When a hand tapped his shoulder, he started with a snarl and seized it without thinking. Sebastian went perfectly still, and Fenris released him just as abruptly. He could easily have re-injured Sebastian's arm, he realized with horror.
"I'm sorry," said Sebastian. "I did call, but you didn't turn." He rubbed his wrist ruefully. "I should have gotten your attention another way. I apologize."
"No, I — " said Fenris. "It is I who am sorry." Sorry he could not act appropriately for anyone, it seemed. Sorry he always made things worse.
"It doesn't matter." Sebastian's smile was kind. Far more than he deserved. "It is not your night for watch — you should get some sleep. Everything is fine now."
"I cannot," Fenris said abruptly, with a shake of his head. "I will watch. You should—" he drew in a long breath, "You should go rest. Together. Your presence will help her."
"Are you certain?"
"I am. It would be a waste for me to lie awake. Go."
The look Sebastian gave him was quizzical, as though he read more into the words than Fenris meant to say. But in the end, he nodded and went to join Violet in the tent.
Fenris turned back toward the dark, trying to empty his mind. Once the noises behind him settled and his companions finally fell asleep, it was easier. He kept watch.