Right, so a kind of character death warning. It only applies to the OC, who in this prompt is a spirit, and doesn't experience death like you think of it. However, I am leaving the warning just in case some people are bothered by anything close.

That said, it applies to no other chapters, so enjoy!

Prompt: Your MCIT awakens in the fade as a spirit. What kind have they become and how do they handle it?

It isn't like waking up; I simply start a new existence. Blink, and then I am.

It isn't like being human, either. My doubts are gone, my endless questions and fears, the way my own thoughts would turn on each other until I was sick. Blink, and then my purpose comes to me. It feels familiar, welcome.

Collect knowledge, learn.

And so I do.

I wander further than most spirits, not carving out any space in the Fade for a long time. Though time means little to nothing in the flexible realm of the Fade, I know it is a long time before I feel the need to begin storing my knowledge; My mind can hold more than it did when I was human.

I know many things, now. Some are new, like how Elvhen stories are told in various Dalish tribes, or the way the emotions of a city swayed when the king was killed. Some are old, like the fact that my human self would have been afraid, would not have wanted to feel so different, so suddenly, and without any warning or consent.

But I am not my human self. I think of her, from time to time. I keep her knowledge buried deep within me, unshared, because much of her knowledge was unknown by even higher beings. Sometimes, but not often, I will indulge in the sorts of knowledge she liked best: stories.

Adventure, monsters, vicious betrayals, family, youthful pining; So many views of the world, each carrying their own truth. They buzz within my being, carrying me through the quieter times.

Not many dreamers remember their stories accurately, but so long as they are entertaining, that little part of me that yearns for it is content.

Later, after even more time has passed, I find someone who remembers their stories too well.

He should not be here, but he is. He and five others walk the realm in physical bodies, radiating sheer life through their presence. He feels closer to the Fade than the others; Another one feels like a break in the world, and one feels darkened.

A spirit of faith is with them.

I approach once she is gone, only watching, but they sense my presence and confront me. I am not interested in answering their questions; I do not exist to teach. I turn to the one who feels less human, more like me.

"What is it like," I ask, always curious, "To be a human when you were once a spirit?"

The boy-who-is-and-is-not-a-boy blinks. "What is it like," he responds, "To be a spirit when you were once a human?"

The others make sounds of surprise, but I see his answer for what it is. He does not know, unsure how to answer. I nod, graciously, and allow the small silence of shared and opposite experiences.

"Hold on," a human says, "This spirit was once human? Do you mean like the one that took the form of the Divine?"

The man is a mage, ostentatious and self-important. He has much knowledge on binding spirits; I do not like him.

"No," answers the boy, "They are, they are different. They still hold the pain, the feelings and memories of being human."

He pauses before speaking in almost a trance, "Dark, then light, so much, so new. Nothing works like it should in this realm. But then, it's familiar, too, in a way. Never expected to be here, but the pain is gone."

"Okay." The human who speaks draws out the word. She has a marking on her face, reminiscent of blood. I know of her. Or I did when human. Hawke. "Doesn't that just sound like the human died?"

"I did not," I protest in a placcid voice. "I merely awoke."

The one whose presence rends the world turns to the boy. "You said the pain is gone?"

"Yes. It hurt, but now it isn't." I nod to corroborate his statement.

"Then what's the problem?" It's the corrupted one, dark with what mortals call the Blight. I know this one too. Alistair. "We do have somewhere to be, so if we could find our way out before something eats us…"

"Really," says the biggest, a scarred Qunari, "Why are we talking to so many spirits? This one is slowing us down."

I hold still for a moment before realizing they may wish an answer from me. "I do not stand in your way. I was merely curious."

They eventually move on, fighting more aggressive spirits. True to my word, I do not interfere. I watch from afar as they progress. They have landed in a dangerous part of the Fade, home to Nightmare, who gluts itself on the plentiful fears radiating from the physical realm. It is one I would prefer gone; Mortals do not preserve or gather knowledge as well when in constant fear.

When they finally reach Nightmare, the spirit of faith gives them an opening to escape. Her sacrifice fills me with a burning warmth I recognize as awe; In the face of such power, she hesitated not even a little. She saw the mortals who stumbled into the Fade as so worthy that she risked her own being for them. They are quick enough to rid themselves of some underlings before running.

One by one, the escape through a rift that connects the realms. They are almost all through when the heavy sense of Nightmare returns. It blocks three from the exit: the rift-maker, the tain- Alistair, and Hawke.

The two I know both offer to stay behind, to buy time for the others. They each look to the rift-maker for a decision when neither backs down.

My being twist in discomfort. In the same way I seek out stories, turning them over in my mind like river stones until they smooth, I yearn to find something here. It takes me almost too long to figure out what it is, as Alistair fights back pieces of Nightmare, the other two sprinting for the rift.

They turn back to look at him, and suddenly I know what I have to do.

Nightmare has overlooked my presence; I use that advantage to run into Alistair, sweeping him off his feet with a startled exclamation, and throw him at the rift.

Both parts of me-the part that never used strength over knowledge and the part which was physically weak-are surprised by just how far he flies. But once he's collided with Hawke, they're all out of the Fade.

A calmness more complete than anything I've felt up until then, as human or spirit, suffuses me. I'm still content even as Nightmare grabs me between sharp, powerful jaws, and bites down.

There is still no pain. I chose my path and I would do it again.

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought. :3 Doing one prompt week right after another is kind of exciting, despite the difficulty.

Um, at least everyone else survived? If you want to, you can consider the fact the OC might either just reform or become human again. Who knows! Haha.

I usually write in past-tense, but in this case, since spirits seem to live pretty in the moment, I thought present-tense fit better. Yeah? I hope I got everyone's character well described too. OC, as it turns out, doesn't much care for proper introductions. ^^;; So I hope it still made sense.

Anyway, have a nice day! I gotta go write some more since I'm a little behind.