I spend a couple of hours in bed after lights out digesting this new information, but eventually my eyelids grow heavy, and I slip into a mercifully dreamless sleep. Then, a cold metal hand on my arm jostles me awake, and I squint against the torchlight nearby. Torchlight? So it's still night-time. The templar in front of me is impatient.
"Come with me," he commands. I hurry to obey. When a templar tells you to do something, you do it before they lose their patience. Before I can really register what's going on, I'm being escorted barefoot down the hallway in my night shift, with a templar on either side of me. Still only half-awake, my brain is scrambling to come up with an explanation. Could it have something to do with Neria. Could she be alive? Has she come back? Am I joining Irving's secret class, held in the middle of the night?
I hear a familiar voice behind me. "Excuse me? Where are you going?"
Our party of three turn to see Miss Filia with a candle in one hand and clutching her dressing-gown closed with the other.
"Return to your wards, mage, this does not concern you," one of the templars says gruffly.
My mouth opens a little in shock. I've never heard anyone talk to Miss Filia like that.
Miss Filia is also clearly unaccustomed to being spoken to so dismissively, and she bristles, stomping towards us. "You have one of my wards in your custody, I have a right to know where you are taking her," she insists, annoyed.
The templar meets her half-way, and backhands her across the face, knocking her to the ground. She cries out, surprised, at the same time I do. The other templar suddenly grabs my wrist and begins marching away at a much faster pace than I can keep up with.
I can hear Miss Filia shouting in the distance as I'm half-dragged up the stairs, around hallways, and up yet more stairs. This is the third floor, I'm not allowed to be up here. Why were they treating Miss Filia like that. Something is wrong, something is very very wrong and I want to go back now. I try to wriggle my wrist out of the templar's grasp and he shoots a glare so withering I stop struggling out of fear he'll follow in his friend's footsteps and strike me down too. We go up another set of stairs, around more hallways, and yet another set of stairs.
We arrive at our destination; a large, dark, mostly empty room save for a handful of templars and a very fancy-looking stone basin, filled with… lyrium? I've seen lyrium before, a vial of it was passed around for everyone to look at in class, once. I've never seen that much lyrium in one place before, though. Another familiar voice rumbles through the air. Knight-Commander Greagoir's.
"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him," he begins, with the tone of a chantry sister who has repeated the same sermon many times over.
"Knight-Commander? What's going on? What's happening? Why am I here?" Greagoir doesn't respond, as if he can't hear me, and continues.
"Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin. Your magic is a gift, but it is also a curse, for demons of the dream realm, the Fade, are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world. This is why the Harrowing exists."
The…Harrowing? There must have been a mistake.
"Knight-Commander, I'm not ready. I'm really not ready, let me talk to First Enchanter Irving," I beg. The knight-commander's expression is like stone.
"The ritual sends you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon, armed with only your will. Know this, apprentice: if you fail, we templars will perform our duty; you will die."
Oh no, oh no I don't want to die. No no no no no—
"Please! There must have been a mistake, I'm not ready! Where's Irving? I want to talk to Irving—" One of the templars grabs my arm and tries to drag me over to the lyrium basin, but I won't go so easily, now that I know what the stakes are. I lean back towards the ground with all my weight. It's not enough to make the templar lose his grip, but it does make it difficult for him to move me. He grunts and abruptly lets go, and I unceremoniously topple over. I scramble back but I'm nowhere near fast enough, and the templar picks me up bodily, carrying me to the basin. I struggle with all my might, but to no avail. The templar tips me headfirst towards the lyrium, and finally, I close my eyes and scream.
But no sound comes out. My eyes open in my confusion, and the basin is gone. So is the room I was in. I'm… outside? No, the air feels wrong, there's no breeze. It's too still. Oh. This must be the Fade.
I look around. The ground looks like dirt and grass, but it's all…flat. Like a painting of dirt and grass. The only structures are the dead trees- at least, I think they're dead trees. I cautiously take a few steps forward. All I know is that somewhere around here, there's a demon waiting for me, and I have to face that demon, and then somehow leave the Fade. I look up. All I can see is the same white-ish mist that surrounds this weirdly flat ground and dead trees.
I keep walking, and as I walk I realise that while the ground itself is flat, it twists around and cuts off at weird angles in a seemingly endless pathway, with the odd clearing here and there. There's nothing else to hear, nothing else to see, and most importantly, nothing else to distract me from the hollow, overwhelming understanding creeping over me that I am truly and completely in over my head. I know a couple of spells I could use to attack a demon, I guess, but I've only ever practiced them in class, not against a real enemy. Against my will, a few tears prick at my eyes, and that's it, the dam's broken. I sit down cross-legged, bury my face in my hands and cry.
"Poor child, sweet child, don't cry." A low, ringing voice startles me, but I dare not look up. What if this is the demon? "Don't be afraid, elvhen child. Won't you look at me? I won't hurt you."
Her voice is soothing and resonant, like a bell. It sounds like she's speaking and whispering at the same time, with two voices. If this is the demon, then I'm going to have to face her anyway if I want to get out of here. I glance up. A shimmering, pale blue figure stands before me, or rather, floats over me. She looks like a beautiful woman, with a long sheet wrapped around her, long enough to cover her feet, and she has an impossibly long mane of hair that swirls slowly around her.
"Who…I mean, what kind of spirit are you?" I ask nervously.
"I am Hope," she smiles gently at me.
"I'm Faellathi," I offer.
"Pleased to meet you, Faellathi. If I may ask, why are you here, in the Fade? It's not safe for you here, you know, even for you. I can sense your magic, but it is new, like you," she frowns slightly.
"I didn't come here on purpose. I didn't want to come here at all, but I was forced to, it's my Harrowing," I sigh miserably. "I have to face a demon before I can leave."
Hope makes a noise that sounds like wind chimes. From her expression, I would guess it's a sound of disapproval. "But you are a child, how could you possibly survive conflict with a demon?"
"I-I know. I don't know," I whisper, wiping away new tears. Hope stares at me for a moment, and then suddenly, her expression softens. "Oh."
Oh? What does she mean, 'oh'? Was it something I said?
Hope begins to twirl slowly in the air. "I understand now. Do not be afraid, Faellathi. I will help you. You will face this demon, and leave the Fade."
"But how?!" I quickly covered my hand with my mouth. I hadn't meant to give away my frustration like that. Had I offended her? Fortunately, Hope… giggles? At least I think that's what it was.
"I am… connected, in a way, to the demon who waits for you. He was my brother, once. He is Despair," she explains. She almost looks a little sad, for a moment, but then she smiles again. "Come, I will take you to him."
I follow Hope as she floats along the path, humming to herself. Eventually she stops, and turns to look at me. "He is in the clearing around the corner. Are you ready?"
No, I'm not ready. How could I be ready for this? But I nod anyway, because I can't stand the fear anymore, I want to get this over with, and I don't want to die, damn it all.
For all Hope's beauty, Despair is absolutely hideous. He wears a mouldy-looking, tattered robe, and although, like Hope, his form is vaguely human, his face gives him away. If he has eyes, they're hidden beneath his hood, but his mouth takes up most of his face, with teeth that seem too big to fit, which forces his expression into a permanent grin.
"Here I was expecting a fresh meeeeal, and I am presented, with barely a snack," he leers. I form a fireball in one shaky hand, summoning the courage to attack.
Despair laughs, rasping. "And it BITES!"
A sharp icicle appears in his hand, and he flings it at me. I flinch, expecting pain, but the icicle shatters on impact of some invisible force in front of me. I look to Hope, who nods.
"Go on," she chimes. I steel myself and send the fireball flying at Despair, who dodges easily.
Frustrated, I start forming and throwing fireballs as fast as I can, some of which make contact, eliciting enraged shrieks from Despair. Good. Screw you, Despair, and screw the templars, and Greagoir, and Irving, and everyone else who won't. Just. Let. Me. LIVE. Despair catches a fireball in the mouth, and that seems to be the final straw. The fire spreads over him, robe and all, and just like that, he's gone. I bend over and brace my hands on my knees, panting.
"Well done, child." Hope places a cool hand on my shoulder, and it's so soothing I could melt. "Your anger served you well."
"Thank you for helping me, Hope," I put my hand over hers. "You saved my life."
"You're welcome, Faellathi. Before you go, I have a word of advice for you. In future, make sure your emotions serve you, and only you. Not mortals, or spirits, just you."
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind." I stand back up, properly. "But now that I've defeated the demon, how do I leave?" I turn to face her, but I come face-to-face with a stone wall. I sit up, confused. I'm in bed. I'm in a bed, but this isn't my bunk bed. But it's real. Which means…
"I got out of the Fade," I sigh, relieved, and collapse back on the pillow.
An unfamiliar face peeps through the doorway. "Maker…" the woman says, eyes wide. "She's awake. Go tell Irving," she says to someone out of my line of sight, on the other side of the door. The woman comes in cautiously, as if she's expecting me to run. She sits gingerly on the end of the bed. "Hi, honey."
"Uh, hi. Who are you?"
"My name's Evelina, I've been looking after you for a bit. How are you feeling, are you hungry? Let me go grab you something to eat," she decides, setting off.
"Wait." She turns to look at me.
"What—I mean, I don't understand—?"
Evelina gives me a small smile, but it's strained. "Let me bring you some food, and I'll explain everything as best I can."
