The endless green rock of the Fade made searching for a particular entity quite frustrating.
She knew he was here somewhere. This was where she had met him during her Harrowing. Demons and spirits tended to stay in one area of the Fade, unless something came along and took it from them. While these rock formations were familiar, she suspected she didn't see the majority of this area during her test. She just hoped he was still here.
Especially since getting here in the first place was such an ordeal.
"No." Greagoir's face was a lovely shade a purple. "Absolutely not."
"What, do you have cotton in your ears?" Veira asked coldly. "Or did you conveniently not hear me when I said you can station all the templars you want around me while I am there?"
There was a shuffle of discomfort amongst the templars that were listening. No mage in the Circle could talk to the Knight-Commander like that. But when Veira glared at the man, she was brought back to that moment when he held her up like a ragdoll and threatened to hunt her down with one misstep. She was done being polite.
"Oh, trust me, I'd do that anyway even if you didn't give me permission," Greagoir snarled. "But you haven't convinced me that you're not going to consort with a demon. The last thing this place needs is another infestation!"
Veira rolled her eyes. "I am not going to."
When Greagoir snorted, Irving spoke up. "Please, Greagoir. This is her chance. I know this is a risk, but I am saying she can be trusted. The world needs her."
Greagoir glared at him. "And I think you put too much faith in her."
"That is rich, considering I saved the Circle. How about this, then?" Veira's tone was so sharp it may be sharper than Zevran's knives. "If you want, make this a second Harrowing. Give me a time limit."
Maybe this would prove how useless the Harrowing really was. It wasn't as if you couldn't make an agreement with a demon and delay possession after the test. Nor did it prove that you were safe against demons. It was just a test that sent inexperienced mages into danger.
Greagoir opened his mouth to yell again, but then he stopped and narrowed his eyes in thought. He tapped his fingers against his mouth, seizing her up. Then he waved his hand and sighed. "I will agree to those terms. If what you say your plan is is true, then...there is a benefit to it. I will gather more templars. Meet us in the Harrowing Chamber."
Veira nodded once as he turned to storm out of the room. Wynne sighed when it was just the three mages. "You shouldn't provoke him like that, Veira."
"It takes very little to do that," Veira scoffed.
"Still...you should-"
"It doesn't matter what I say, that man will never trust me." Then she too left the room.
When the ritual set up was complete, Veira once again ascended the long staircase of the Harrowing Chamber. Physically, it was much more difficult this time. She had to lean against the wall, going one step up at a time. The pain in her side flared with each movement. She had to stop once in a while to breathe, when the flares became too much. Again she had a templar accompany her, and he offered a hand to help her with the rest of the stairs. She nodded at him and balanced against his shoulder. She couldn't tell if she was scared. Certainly not like she had been the first time she went up these stairs.
When the door of the Harrowing Chamber opened, she was struck by just how much this was like the first Harrowing. Templars surrounding her. Irving in the middle, next to the spire with lyrium. Cullen was there again, though instead of a look of worry he sported a nasty glare. As she walked past him, she glanced at him.
"Shouldn't you be resting?" she asked.
"Not when mages threaten the safety of the Circle," he replied coldly.
It was her turn to glare. "Then you had best make sure I am possessed before you strike me down."
"Enough," Greagoir interrupted before Cullen could answer. "Never has there been a second Harrowing for a mage. Because of this, we will do one thing differently. You shall repeat the words of the Maker, as I once did for you."
Veira swallowed the lump in her throat, taking a small breath. The pit of her stomach flared as she spoke. "Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him. My magic is a gift, but also a curse. For demons of the dream realm are drawn to me, to use me as a gateway into our world."
"Very good," he nodded, motioning a hand toward the spire. "You know the rest. You must go alone."
Irving nodded at her as she stood next to the spire. He didn't need to say anything this time. She let the warm lyrium once again entangle around her fingers. She concentrated on her goal, and to have Spellweaver at her hip. She would not be unarmed this time, if things go wrong.
He would be there.
And there he was.
"Valour," Veira called to the spirit, shining an ethereal white and tending to his weapons.
His eyes flickered as he looked at her, narrowing as he tried to remember her. "Ah...you are..." He straightened his back as he stroked his chin in thought. "The mageling from a while back?"
She tipped her head politely. "Yes. I am honoured you remember me."
Valour folded his arms across his chest. "I cannot imagine why you are here. It is not as if you need a weapon." He motioned to Spellweaver. Ah, so it had worked!
She rested her hand on the hilt of the sword, smiling. "Haha, that is true. Spellweaver is irreplaceable. But I am not here for weaponry or advice. I came here for you."
And a certain someone would not like that at all. He was probably watching right now, waiting. See if Valour accepts. Witness what she says. Well, he can hide all he wants. She'll confront him regardless, one way or another.
"And what is it that you need me for, mortal?" Valour asked, his tone brisk and to the point. "Most mages do not take the risk of the Fade just to speak to spirits. I assume it is dire."
"It is a long story," Veira agreed. "would you like to listen?"
"Time is a concept only you mortals need to care about. The question is if you have the time to tell a long story."
She thought of the templars who were still hovering over her unconscious body, waiting for any sign of possession; the sand pouring through the hourglass. Valour did need to hear the whole story. How could she convince him otherwise? It was a risk she needed to take.
She started from the beginning. Passing the Harrowing, helping Jowan escape and finding out he was a bloodmage. Conscripting to the Grey Wardens. Ostagar. All the battles and struggles between. Curing the werewolves. Saving Redcliffe and letting Jowan go. The ordeal of the Circle. Shattering her phylactery. Facing that dragon and the trials in Haven. She struggled to tell what happened in the Deep Roads, as the wounds were still fresh. But she did it anyway. The Broodmother. Hespith.
The final injuries that brought her here in the first place.
When she finished, Valour was silent. After a minute of contemplation, while Veira nervously waited for some sort of answer to a question she hadn't officially asked, he finally spoke. "I see. You have indeed been through a lot since we first met."
"I would not willingly let all that be in vain."
His head turned sharply towards her. "And there is the issue I see in you. You mortals seem to think Valour is experienced by only staying in the fight. You think the soldier injured in battle so gravely that they can no longer walk is somehow lacking in courage? You think the child born with sickness cannot be brave because they cannot fight? That they never fight at all? I know what you seek. You wish to form a pact with me, so that you can awaken spirit healing abilities. I would not be against such a thing with a truly valorous individual. Prove to me that you are one."
Veira was taken aback at first, but she saw this coming. Of course she'd have to prove herself. But could she do so just with words? She had already proven her prowess the first time she met him. "I agree in that battle is not the only way to show valour," she began, keeping her voice steady, "the fact is, I do not know if I am brave. The bravest people I know are not me certainly, they are Zerlinda, Hespith, Nadezda and Rica...and those are the ones I just met. I have seen so much bravery in this war, all of my companions show immense courage that I thought I had no hope in emulating."
She touched her side, where her pain always was. "But having felt this, experienced it...the child and soldier are indeed brave, Valour. There is no question. But you, and everyone that admires their courage, may forget that they are suffering. If they had the chance that I do...they would take it in a heartbeat." She grew bolder as her heart began to pulse faster. "No, I take back what I said earlier. I know that I am valourous. I have endured the equivalent of a lifetime of horror, and I keep going. That's just...who I am. I need not to prove anything to you."
Valour's glow intensified for a moment, and for a split second Veira thought he was angry, but then he started to laugh. He nodded at her, and if he wasn't wearing a helmet, she would have sworn that he had a big smile on his face. "Yes," he said, "you indeed are. You just needed to say it yourself. Believe it yourself. There is the boasting of valour, using it to gain personal vices in many individuals of your kind that I have seen. I need not worry about that from you. All you needed was to recognize your own valour."
"Then..."
"I will assist you. You may call upon me when you need me."
"Ah. That will not do. She's taken, you see."
Veira grabbed Spellweaver as she turned around to find Mouse behind them. Although, she could not help a small smirk. Mouse was so angry he couldn't keep up the human form properly. It bubbled and shifted, eyes turning to slits and back. He was losing control. As frightening as he looked, that was incredibly satisfying.
"A Pride demon..." Valour said, his tone clipped with disgust.
"Yes," she nodded, "he has been stalking me ever since I met him during the Harrowing."
"Stalking? How rude," Mouse smiled, "I was protecting you from other demons. How quickly you forget that!"
Ignoring him, Veira turned her head towards Valour. "He offered to heal me when I was hurt. Wouldn't take no for an answer. I suppose I hurt his pride coming to you."
"Hurt me? You give yourself too much credit," Mouse sneered, but his face continued to mutate, "you merely disappointed me, foolish girl."
"Yes, of course. That is why you can barely hold your disguise."
Mouse's eyes flashed purple and he snarled, then he quickly attempted to mask it. "I will give you another chance," he warned, "I am the one who will cure you. What you want from this spirit is not a fix. You would be using him for the rest of your life. Don't you understand that? Do you not understand that, Spirit?"
Yes. She understood that. She would use spirit healing magic continuously to diminish the pain, but it would always be temporary. It would only get her through the day. And she'd have to train herself to do it. It would take a while to perfect. But it was better than any offer this creature was trying to sell.
She turned to Valour. But that last part had merit. Valour just scoffed. "You do not know me, demon. You assume I have not done this before. I know more than you."
Veira's eyes widened. Valour made pacts with mages before? Veira thought that sprits were mostly uninterested in the real world, but she had heard that some were curious. It was always the threat of demons pushing to get out of the Fade that kept the attention, to the point where many people did not know that benevolent spirits existed in the Fade. Valour was a curious one, then.
"I refuse your offer," she said. There was a shift in the air the moment she finished. It became gritty to breathe in, heavy like in Orzammar. Mouse dropped all his human disguise, growing larger and larger until he towered over the both of them. Not a spec of the human face Veira recognized was in him. But he would not take his white eyes off her.
"That is a shame," he growled, then threw back his head and roared.
Veira grabbed Spellweaver and shifted into a defensive stance, but a glow beside her took her attention away from Mouse. Valour radiated a bright light as a large, round shield formed on his arm. He took two steps forward, blocking her from the giant beast before them. As Mouse shifted to attack, Valour turned and offered his free hand to her. "Let us finish this."
Veira nodded and took his hand. Immediately his aura spread around her, filling her with a warmth that reminded her so much of Wynne. She felt energized by the aura, and both of them shone with almost blinding brightness. A thick clawed hand swiped at them both, but Valour's shield parried it away.
Veira's hands burst with lightning, sending it up through Spellweaver's blade. It crackled and hissed, and when Veira swung her sword, a jagged whip wrapped around Mouse's carapace-like arm. He cried out in pain as waves of lightning rode through his arm, though this only angered him more. In a swift movement that seemed impossible for such a large body, Mouse raised his hurt arm harshly, and swung it directly at her torso, sending her and Valour flying.
Just like the ogre had.
Veira just lay there, dazed, reliving that moment in her brain mercilessly. The pain from those injuries was felt once again, even if it wasn't real. It was real enough to her. Her fear prevented her from getting up.
Before Mouse had a chance, Valour appeared at her side, kneeling and holding his shield up to encompass them both. Mouse attempted to pound them into the ground, but Valour's shield held true. He touched her shoulder with his free hand. "It is alright," he said in a clear voice. "Use your healing magic."
Veira could only gasp her words, the force of Mouse's hits making small quakes in the ground. Her hands shook as she watched that terrible beast trying to smash them apart. But Valour's voice pierced through her terror. "Trust me. We can win this."
She bit back her fear and let warm healing magic flow, but her eyes widened at how different it was. The magic that came from her had such a large aura that she glowed blue. Any pain she felt was immediately gone, the warmth at the brink of being too warm, but the intensity faded into a comfortable summer-like breeze.
So this is what it felt like to use Spirit Healing.
Mouse tried again to throw Veira off her feet, but he was stopped by the lightning whip wrapping around his neck. Her feet dragged as Mouse tried to pull away, but she held her ground as best she could. She tried pulling him down, to her level, but Mouse was too strong, even with the lightning running through him. She felt Valour's warm hand wrap around Spellweaver's hilt beside her own hand, nodding to her for instruction.
Despite the situation, Veira smiled. It was incredible to have a magical partner. Not a mage fighting beside you, but a partner. With the new magic rushing through her, it honestly all felt amazing.
"Three," Veira began, gripping Spellweaver even harder. "Two."
Valour's shoulders tensed. She never really took the time to think about how interesting it was that spirits took on a humanoid form, and that their bodies used a lot of the same physical reactions that they did. They could be anything, and yet their forms were familiar. Comforting. They were different enough for mortals to know that they were not like themselves, but she wondered. Just how much spirits wanted to communicate with people from her world. Did Valour know more and thus have a more realistic form because of his pacts?
She smiled again, nodding back to him. "One!"
They both pulled as hard as they could, and Mouse roared as his head flew downwards.
As soon as he hit the ground, Veira rushed forward. Mouse snapped his head back only to have Spellweaver sink into his open mouth, and out from the back of his head. His roar turned into a muted growl, his body going slack. A horrible, choked gurgling sound rose up into his throat, though his eyes remained the blazing daggers of fury they had been this whole time. In his last bout of desperation, Mouse wanted to at least take her out with him. He started biting furiously, even moving down the blade further just to snap at her arms. Veira cursed as she flinched away from long sharp teeth, her eyes flaring with white. Valour once again placed a hand on Spellweaver with her, channeling his own magic into it.
With the combined magic, the lightning that shot through Spellweaver equalled the force of a ballista's giant arrow. Mouse was blasted off the ground, hitting the ground far from where they stood. He cried out in fear as he skidded towards the edge of the cliffside, trying to dig claws into the rock to slow him down.
Veira was too quick for him. Just as he reached the edge and stopped, she raised a hand and a giant pillar of stone erupted from underneath him, sending him over the edge. Mouse screamed the entire way down until they could not hear him.
Veira peered over the edge, and she could not see him in the endless pit that was the Fade. She wondered if more demons and spirits would come here, now that he was gone. Maybe Mouse was telling the truth, and more demons would try to posses her. Though if they were not as powerful as Mouse...then this victory was a good warning.
"It is done," Valour sighed, releasing his shield, "he will no longer infest this domain."
Veira let out a shaky breath and turned to him. "Thank you so much. I could not have done this without you."
Valour tipped his head, then kneeled on the ground, drawing something on the rock. His finger left a shimmering residue where it touched. "Your time is short," he said quickly, "you need to wake up. This is my sigil. You will need it to find me quickly. Concentrate on this, and you will be able to use Spirit Healing."
The sigil was remarkably simple; a circle with a sword overlapping in the middle. Still, she was captivated by it, even the small drawing had power in it. She immediately committed the image into her memory, intending to draw it in her spellbook when she woke.
When he finished, Valour rose to meet her eyes, and she smiled and extended a hand. She wasn't sure if he recognized a handshake and what it meant, as he stared at the hand for a moment.
"It has been a very long time since I formed a pact with a mage," he said, making Veira's eyebrows rise. "I'm afraid the last one ended in tragedy. The mage I was so drawn to went through horrors of his own, and in the end, it corrupted him. It almost corrupted me. I do not wish to see that again." His eyes glowed a dull blue, a pure, aching sadness pouring through them. "I am aware you cannot promise me anything. But, know that it is your disposition and your will to keep going that...reassures me. Because I cannot go through that again. Such a thing would surely destroy me."
Veira couldn't stop her lip from wobbling. "You loved him, didn't you?"
Valour's head lowered. "I did."
Veira grasped his hand firmly. "I will not let you go through that again. At any sign that I am lost, this pact will be over."
"You would go that far?" Valour asked.
He began to glow entirely when she nodded. He gripped her hand tightly, nodding. "Then it is done. Go, wake. Before the jailors destroy you." Again he smiled, even if it was an unseen smile, she could feel it. "Win your war."
Veira awoke with a start, several templars hovering over her nervously. Her brows knotted as she concentrated on Valour's sigil, and suddenly a huge aura of bright blue spirit healing burst from her, sending the templars back a few steps in surprise. She got to her feet slowly.
She turned to an awed Irving, grinning at her old mentor. "I'm back."
