The good thing about detention was that Malcolm could nap and continue his demon hunt right under the Circle's nose. Technically he should be catching up on homework from his past classes, but yesterday's visit from Zelophehad had Malcolm focused on finding more information about his foe in the Fade. Most of the Fade remained vacant to him, spirits fleeing in his wake, but thankfully he had earned the trust of Scholar and the curious wisp. Instead of wandering aimlessly, Scholar and the wisp guided his journey deeper into the heart, showing him new wonders and ruins he had never seen. The Fade's whispers were barely audible but constantly humming. In every shadow Malcolm was aware that the Nightmare could be stalking him.

Compassion no longer answered his calls, which worried Malcolm. But he was assured from Scholar that she was safe, for the moment. He was told if he wanted to meet Compassion again then he needed to focus on his training, which didn't seem to be anything but examining old memories.

Scholar said in order to ward off Zelophehad, Malcolm had to focus on his fondest memories, ones untainted by grief or sorrow. But Malcolm had precious few moments like that save for when he was with Leandra. And he knew he was on borrowed time with her.

He could not dwell on what could go wrong. He knew the Fade was not the place to have such thoughts. Still, he knew he had no right to Leandra's hand, even if he knew they belonged together. He could feel it in his heart, the way holding her hand felt like coming home. Her touch made him come alive like nothing else did, her smiles soothed the scars on his soul. Every other girl could not compare to Leandra, couldn't outwit her, outcharm her. Malcolm could boldly claim that she was more grace than even the Empress of Orlais.

Those doe eyes saw straight into the pit of him and stripped him bare. Her kindness had softened the hard edges of his heart.

He often found himself absentmindedly sketching her eyes and lips on the margins of his homework. He could draw page after page trying to memorize her expressions, though every piece failed to capture her true beauty. He had pages of hidden sketches memorializing his obsession with her, and his last visit with her had inspired a new sensual piece from their night of passion.

But the Nightmare's warning echoed at him. "She may love you but she'll always love her status more."

Would Leandra ever run away with him? Was there any possibility that he could have her to himself, wholly, selfishly, with no one else in the way. He loved her so much it was hard to breathe at times and Scholar would yell at him and tell him he was ruining the flavor of the memories. But it was difficult for his mind not to fall in that pit. She was his happiness. If she didn't choose him, what memories could he possibly use against this demon?

Without her as his shield he would be swallowed by the Nightmare.

In addition to Scholar's company was one curious wisp who seemed to be the same one once called Shiny though its name changed to Floaty to Bouncy, Poky, Dewy to so many others that Malcolm just started calling it 'the wisp.' When he was more annoyed 'fly.' It had seemed to take a liking to Malcolm whatever it was called and hummed its eerie childlike voice, never straying too far out of reach. Sometimes it swirled around certain landscapes around the Fade pointing out features Malcolm wouldn't notice, little treasures of energy that floated into him. He couldn't tell for sure it seemed the wisp was feeding him bits of stray Fade energy that had been captured to make him stronger.

When Malcolm ignored it or tried to venture off on his own, it would shoot a burst of mana blinking in alarming colors. It never hit hard enough to hurt but the shock of magic was definitely attention getting and annoying.

Malcolm had seen a lot of wondrous things during this search; a cave of crystal of each color of the rainbow and some colors he couldn't describe, a chain of floating mountains that danced in a circle, a swirling whirlpool that split a lake into a drain, but in each of these places other than little treasures that the wisp pointed out, no spirits showed themselves to Malcolm. Malcolm could sense they were there, hiding, and could taste their fear and wariness.

The wisp then led him into a forest of glowing flowers so big that the petals bloomed in the sky like redwood trees. There was a spirit in every blade of grass, in every blossom, even in the clouds, but they did not speak to him. Beneath his feet, the Fade trembled, as if in fear of him. This made him feel uneasy, restless. As they moved farther into the forest, the flowers that glittered in light seemed to lose their gleam, dimming until it seemed like they were walking in the dark and Malcolm suddenly felt a chill creeping up his spine.

Scholar trailed him, his mouth stuffed with bite after bite of his memories. It was true that focusing on Leandra's love seemed to make traversing the Fade a lot less treacherous, but Malcolm couldn't help but think that the Scholar demon was taking advantage of him with the feast he was having.

Reliving his memories with Leandra were not so terrible, but these moments were precious to him. Having them so openly on display felt wrong, like walking around naked. The Fade was like a treacherous sea, his emotions a turbulent wave, but she was his life vest keeping him afloat and being swallowed.

The problem was in the Fade all of the creatures there were present to view his most treasured moments like some drama they were all tuned in for. He felt vulnerable, like he was back in the showers naked with Meredith's gun at his back.

Scholar was there to redirect him at each turn, commenting on the flavor of his memories with analytical passiveness that only a spirit could. "Focus! You must not have fear or anger in your heart as you walk lest you corrupt the very ground you walk on. Do you not see how delicate the state of the forest is in?"

Malcolm understood that. Sort of. The problem was that it was hard to focus because Scholar wouldn't stop telling him what he was doing wrong which seemed to be everything. Still in the wake of his anger the flowers were quickly withering and dying and Malcolm bottled up the emotions before he choked out the life of the forest.

He could see the impression of the Fade bringing Leandra to life around him. She was in the shadows of the leaves. Spirits borrowed her face to mirages and images of his wants and desires. The lesser spirits curiously tasted his happy memories and he felt all their emotions as his own, making ghosts of her around him, tainting her face with the violation of their prodding curiosity.

"No, not like that," Scholar waved his arms. "Is the memory already losing potency? Perhaps you should think of something more stimulating?"

"Excuse me?" Malcolm certainly hoped the Scholar wasn't speaking what he was thinking of.

"Like her laugh! Your heart is much more at ease when you're listening to that."

The way Scholar reached into his head and pulled out his most private thoughts like a kid in a cookie jar made Malcolm have to snap back a lash of annoyance bubbling inside of him.

No sooner than Scholar spoke the words, Leandra's laugh echoed from the forest, springing from his thoughts. It had an eerie musical quality that slithered through the stalks of the leaves. He didn't want these memories to be tainted by the spirits. He didn't want these thoughts to belong to anyone but him. He wanted every piece of Leandra to himself and he didn't care how selfish that was.

Scholar smacked him on the top of his head. "What did I say about that emotion? Do you want to attract Zelophehad!"

Malcolm scowled as the mirages of his memories turned to face him and watch, feeling the sudden hostility rising from them. He swallowed his anger though it felt like he was choking as he bottled up the instinctive fear of being surrounded in the heart of a spirit's realm. .

Scholar was suddenly in his face, which made him jump. "Focus! On her smell. Like jasmine and spring."

Suddenly he could smell the wafting fragrance, flowing from all the flowers. He had to admit it did soothe the edges of his frazzled spooked nerves.

Scholar crossed his arms. "If you'd show me the memory of last night, then we'd get to the heart much faster. I sense a great source of positive energy from it that can be potentially healing- much more potent than any of the paltry memories you've been giving me."

Malcolm's face burned, filling his mind with useless jarring chatter before the pesky spirit could glance through his thoughts. "Absolutely not! You're lucky I'm showing you this much."

Scholar's teeth snarled into a scowl. "Stubborn somniari. Doing things your way is going to take so much longer."

"Well, it's my way or we can part ways and I do this on my own." Malcolm knew he should not be so stubborn. That he was desperate for help, and that if Scholar did actually abandon him, that he would be truly fighting blind and that would most likely kill him.

"Well I need to change this emotion," Scholar grumbled, reaching into Malcolm's head for a less guarded memory of his mother's chicken soup that she always made when he was sick. He had almost forgotten about it and the sight of it brought an ache to his heart.

"Stop!" Scholar blurted, bonking him in the head with a spoon. "Spirits can be sickeningly addicted to pain. It's too confusing and overstimulating."

Malcolm knew what that meant. Corruption. Demons. But Malcolm was an open wound, bleeding and staining everything he touched. The forest was choking in his presence, the flowers twitching as his foul emotions gnarled them. "You don't understand. I don't choose to be in pain. There's no off switch, or believe me I'd find it." Malcolm ran a frustrated hand through his curls, feeling his bottled emotions bubbling to the top.

"But you're not in as much pain when you're around Leandra. So summon her. It's safer in the long run."

"The anger sparked before he could reel it in. He pointed an accusing finger at the Scholar which jumped back like they were about to be struck. "Don't you dare bring her into this!"

Then a flower stalk collapsed behind him, withering into dust as it died.

Scholar looked angry and started slurping up some chicken soup loudly, a full leaf of cabbage disappearing into his mouth. He talked as he ate, barely understandable. "Foolish somniari! Do you want to kill this whole grove!"

"Where are we? You said you could take me to someone who can help me defeat the Nightmare." Still, Malcolm tried his best to bring the bottle his emotions back up, catching each stray thought before they stabbed the spirits around him.

"You need to change it back into a dream as it was intended to be," the Scholar slurped. "But that's too advanced for your skills as of now. Just learn to walk to Fade without corrupting it," The Scholar snorted as if he was impatient with Malcolm for not being able to do something so basic. "You'll never be able to bring back the Guardian Spirits until you can manage at least that."

"Huh? Guardian Spirits?" Malcolm perked up his head. "What are those?"

Scholar grabbed a chicken thigh from his soup and pointed it at Malcolm accusingly. "Do you not recognize the land you walk? In each of these realms once lay an ancient spirit, from before the Sundering of the Veil. They brought balance to the land and without them Zelophehad can feast as he pleases."

A pang of guilt tore through Malcolm, causing the Scholar to burp. Malcolm pushed down the feeling but he felt an ache as he looked at the Fade. He could not recognize these places at all. They looked like magical wonders of dreams he'd never thought he'd have. The Fade used to look like a gnarled twisted place but ever since walking with Scholar it seemed so serene. No demons had attacked them in all this time which was unusual. Or could this be normal? Could walking the Fade be like a nice afternoon stroll?

But the flowers were obviously wilting in his presence, the forest floor covered in dead petals that floated down from the canopy, rotting. The wisp led them through the twists on the thick rose bush stems, the thorns looking more deadly each passing second.

"Is there nothing I can do to stop the Nightmare?" It seemed all he could find were dead whispers. If the Fade had knowledge of Zelophehad's undoing it kept it from him.

"You are Somniari. You weave our worlds together. You cannot bring back what is lost, but you can create something new."

There was a comfort in those words even with the weight behind them. Malcolm wondered if fighting Zelophehad wasn't the answer. In every encounter with the creature he seemed to barely escape with his life and he knew now that throwing himself at him wasn't working. The Fade responded to the demon as actively as it responded to Malcolm. If he couldn't overpower it, then how did others survive the creature? Could he bind it? Trap it? Reason with it?

"Yes, you understand now," Scholar nodded as he bit into the bone, crunching it as he talked. "Zelophehad cannot affect you if there is no conflict in your heart."

"But he's a creature that seeks to possess my mind and destroy everything I care about. I can't leave him alone forever," Malcolm argued. He was used to controlling his thoughts but not to this precision. It was exhausting to keep this up and he wasn't sure he could count on himself to not make a mistake.

"Precisely why we still need help," Scholar hit Malcolm on the forehead with the chicken bone. "Now redirect that energy."

The spike of annoyance sharpened at the pain but it did distract him from the downward spiral of fear his thoughts were starting to go in.

At the sight of the spirit eating Malcolm's tummy grumbled. The wisp came to investigate the sound, mimicking the gurgle with a little burp.

Scholar looked at Malcolm's stomach. "What was that?"

Malcolm sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I didn't have lunch today cause I'm being punished, so watching you eat is not helping."

Scholar offered his bowl. "Well, this might help."

Malcolm snorted. "That's not real and it won't do shit."

Still, the demon held up the bowl to his nose. "Does it not smell real?"

The aroma of the heated stew filled Malcolm's nostrils, reminding him of his Mother tucking him in when he was sick and feverish. His mouth watered in spite of himself and before he knew it Scholar placed it into his hands.

He sniffed his memory of his mother's chicken soup suspiciously. It did feel real, well as real as the Fade could feel. Tentatively he tipped the bowl into his mouth and sipped some of the broth.

He was not expecting the memory to be so refreshing, and comforting, like a hug that warmed him to the core. He found himself slurping more up and before he knew it he had finished off the broth and was picking through the meat and cabbage still leftover from the stew with his fingers, strangely content with every bite. He could taste the emotions from the memory, the love from his Mother, the tenderness of her care, the joy of her presence. His belly didn't feel any fuller but he did feel remarkably better, like he had woken up from a really good nap.

And suddenly the flowers started to sparkle a little brighter. A glimmer of energy flickering through the blossoms like an electric current. Malcolm followed the light with his eyes.

Scholar nodded approvingly. "Yes, with that emotion, Zelophehad will have no foothold in you and you'll stop killing the forest. We can work in peace."

With the flowers glowing brighter Malcolm suddenly realized they were at the foot of what looked like a giant altar, and for a second he did in fact recognize this place, or at least the statue.

A fierce mabari face stood protectively on the edge, pointing to the sky with its paw. Thick thorny vines choked its limbs and neck, its sapphire eyes gleaming at him in the glow of the flower light.

"I remember this," Malcolm's feet were drawn to the giant paws that dwarfed him, the statue crowned by a field of flowers that seemed too large for him to fathom. "I was here before. I don't remember how I got here but a giant ravenous dog spirit attacked me out of nowhere and I…" Malcolm trailed off as he gulped. If this spirit was responsible for keeping Zelophehad at bay, then Malcolm had made a huge mistake. "What have I done?"

The statue started to glow and suddenly a cluster of wisps formed moving like a swarm of bees. The wisps started charging with mana, the air sparking with energy.

Malcolm raised his arms to protect himself, the glass of the bowl breaking against the ground. Malcolm drew fire to his fingertips but Scholar waved him down.

"If you kill the wisps it'll take forever for them to reform which will only make Zelophehad stronger!"

At that Malcolm lowered his hands, the spell dying, his fists smoking. Malcolm tried to keep calm but the wisps buzzed angrily.

Malcolm looked to Scholar. "What now?"

Scholar gasped as if he was offended. "What do you mean? Apologize!"

He raised his eyebrows. "How do you apologize for killing someone? 'My bad. Here's a gift basket?'"

Scholar shrugged as he gnawed at his chicken bone. "Perhaps that would be better than doing nothing."

An arc of energy spat at Malcolm's feet missing him by inches. He jumped away from the burst, his nerves screaming at him to defend himself. "Alright! Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to kill you!"

Another arc shot past his head, deafening his ear. Malcolm threw up a barrier instinctively as the energy destroyed a blossom behind him. Malcolm dove behind a thick stalk of a flower, glaring at Scholar.

"You didn't mean it." Scholar harrumphed as he yanked another memory from his head, a tray of shrimp puffs from the Betrothal Ball, and started scarfing them down as he watched Malcolm expectantly.

"What am I supposed to do here? I'm not looking to get killed, demon!"

The Scholar burped and shivered in between bites. "I keep telling you I'm not a demon! And Kindness didn't used to be!"

Malcolm blinked at the revelation of the spirit's name. "I killed Kindness?" He peered behind a thick leafy branch and stared at the cluster of wisps hovering above the statue protectively, feeling twisted with guilt.

"And turned it into Cruelty," Scholar nodded as he chomped on another shrimp bite. "If nothing happens, this grove will wither into hatred and this forest will warp into weeds even without your corrupting influence."

Malcolm could see what he was saying. There were invasive thorn plants wrapping around each flower like kudzu, choking the life from them and darkening their glow.

The wisps stayed buzzing but they didn't send any more arcs of lightning at him. They seemed to be staying near the statue, swarming around the head of the dog aimlessly. Some of the wisps were fighting amongst each other in a chaotic fashion while others scattered to brighten up the flowers of the forests. Everything was a frenzy.

He could feel the corruption from the wisps, the malice, the fear, the vindictiveness mixed up with the pain, the sorrow, the hopelessness. Whatever was left of the spirit had been warped into murderous intent but each wisp seemed to fight for dominance, it's aggression having no real direction but to itself. Warped wisps seemed to be trying to corrupt the other wisps that attempted to heal the forest, chasing them away from their work.

Could damage like this even be fixed? Malcolm had doubts. Still, Scholar was right, if this was his fault, doing nothing would be cowardly. Still, even wisps could do major damage with enough provocation. He knew it would be easier to destroy the whole colony, but he could tell that those wisps were connected to the grove itself. It might destroy this wondrous place.

With a shaky breath, he stepped out from behind the giant flower stalk, facing the dog statue again. The wisps turned from their infighting and he could feel their united hatred as they saw their murderer again. The wisps buzzed angrily, the energy arcing wildly between them. Malcolm wasn't sure what he was supposed to do here, and Scholar seemed more interested in his new tray of shrimp puffs to be of any help. In fact, Malcolm couldn't help but feel that Scholar was yanking him around on purpose. Perhaps he even deserved it.

Malcolm made sure to keep calm, thinking only of Leandra, trying to remember how much her kindness changed him. He got on his knees at the altar, and bowed deeply to the ground, even as arcs of lightning shot past him. Still, each arc missed. It seemed even now the wisps were puffing up, trying to scare Malcolm off with their display of power. The energy from the altar arced wildly, but Malcolm cast no magic, not even to defend himself. He pressed his nose to the ground in a bow offering his bare back to the wisps. Perhaps they would try a few lashes. They would hurt but Malcolm knew he could take a few hits. Still, no blast of magic came to lash at him.

The wisps quieted down, one by one, the buzzing dying a whisper as they waited to see what Malcolm would do.

"I'm sorry," Malcolm repeated, but this time his heart was open. He let down the walls of the barriers of his mind, so the wisps could taste each of his memories, regret, fear, confusion, guilt. The wisps seemed to gobble at the emotions hungrily tasting each one in a frenzy. With the wisps feeding he could taste their emotions as his own. They were hurt. They were broken. They're confused. And they were no longer whole.

Suddenly he understood how this being was part of the forest, the heart of the land. He had crushed this place into pieces and the fragments were now breaking away into nothing.

He felt tainted, sinned. A true monster. Could someone with so much blood on his hands be truly worthy of Leandra? Would that fear in her eyes return if she knew what he was truly capable of? His head hung low. "You don't have to forgive me. I know I don't deserve it. But…please. How do I make you whole again? Is that even possible?"

The wisps were quiet and suddenly he realized Scholar was beside him, crunching loudly. "Now, you are asking the right questions."

Some wisps started to buzz again, sparking with energy while other wisps floated in uncertainty, bobbing as they whispered to each other.

The wisp once called Shiny suddenly floated up to the colony and joined the conversation and soon undecipherable chatter filled the forest. Every cloud, every leaf, every petal was whispering to each other, discussing Malcolm's offer together. Malcolm's ears strained to understand them but it was too much. There were too many voices. It was all so layered, chaotic, but he could taste the uncertainty they had of him, the pull between hope and mistrust. The anger was definitely still there arcing in the lightning the wisps spat at each other. He could feel the aching loss in the songs they were singing to each other. And then all the sound stopped as the whole forest turned to Malcolm.

The flowers spoke at once, like a breeze carried through their leaves. "We want to be reborn. To sing. To heal. To play."

Malcolm raised his head, looking as the wisps surrounded him, inspecting him closely. "I can help you, if you tell me how."

The wisps danced around Malcolm, excitably bouncing and whirling. "Recreate us. Shape us. Nurture us. Bring us to life."

The wisps swarmed him impatiently for him to work his magic, but Malcolm had no idea to do what they were asking of him.

They were pinching his skin and yanking at his hair and clothes, eager to be remade. Some were getting impatient and sparking his skin to urge him. Malcolm turned to Scholar and said, "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?"

Scholar then started waving his empty platter at the wisps shooing them away. "Now, now, Kindness, I know you're always impatient, but this Somniari barely knows how to walk. It might take some work before you're reborn."

"Feed us. Feed us. Feed us." The wisps chanted in unison. Some of them were turning an angry red, sparking again.

Malcolm gawked at the wisps. "What, you want a sandwich now?"

"No, feed it kindness of course," Scholar said. For once he was not munching. "The more sincere the better."

Malcolm blinked, not really sure how to do that. He knew that spirits fed on emotions and he tried to scan his memories for something that would work, but the only people he could think that he went out of his way to be kind to was Isaac and Leandra, and he felt strange using his memories as spirit food.

Still, the Nightmare had targeted both Isaac and Leandra and if this spirit of Kindness would make the demon weaker then Malcolm couldn't pass up this chance. He picked up his last memory of cheering Isaac up with bunnies that he formed in snow. How that moment gave him hope and allowed him to go to forget his troubles as he drifted to sleep.

With uncertainty, Malcolm offered it to the wisps. The wisps gobbled up the memory in a frenzy, like piranhas seizing a carcass. Suddenly the vines started to recede from the statue as the forest canopy opened up to the sun, covering the forest floor with an intense glittering light. From the bushes and underbrush little snow bunnies hopped out and cleaned themselves, little flakes of ice brushing off their whiskers and dusting the grass. They snuffled the forest floor and brought life to the world.

The wisps had fused to a nebulous turquoise light, but no real form had been taken. Still, a healing energy pulsed with every breath.

Malcolm turned to Scholar. "Is it fixed yet?"

"A good start," Scholar nodded approvingly. "You'll have to do more acts of kindness before it can take a shape. In the meantime we can at least start healing the forest."

The new larger wisp started going from flower to flower, brightening it up with more color and unlike before the flowers actually rose their heads. Intricate patterns weaved through the petals as it worked. New small spirit animals formed under the leaves of the flowers, nebulous bees and birds and chipmunks and squirrels. Baby blossoms opened up in the light soaking in new life.

The small wisp that brought Malcolm to this place started dancing around him excitedly giggling in an eerie childlike voice. A healing energy started to strengthen the forest, making everything greener, but it was diluted and didn't quite kill the weeds that were choking the flowers. The light from the canopy was already dimming so a shadow was cast across the dog's altar, but the sapphire's eyes had a soft blue light emanating from it. Malcolm wasn't sure why but staring into that dog's eyes gave him hope.

Suddenly he felt the pull from the other side of the Veil. His mind was awakening, someone was shaking his body.

Scholar looked at Malcolm as he started to phase out. "You can't leave now. The work has barely begun!"

Malcolm tried to fight the pull but he could feel himself fading. "I told you. Real world stuff comes first."

"But if Zelophehad strikes now, Kindness might die, again!"

Malcolm paused, fighting the pull as best as he could, though his body was already transparent from fading. He yanked on the connection, though he could feel someone slapping him in the face and the sting was watering his eyes. "I'll be back as soon as I can!"

Scholar crossed the crystal platter across his chest. "You better!"

He couldn't fight the pull any longer. He could feel himself falling, the lurch in his stomach as his consciousness shifted from the Fade to his body. He jerked awake just as a hand smacked his cheek.

It wasn't hard enough to bruise but it did shock Malcolm and he groaned, cradling his face. He shook himself awake to glare at none other than Carver, who looked steaming mad.

He noticed that the classroom had been emptied and there was no one else there, which could only mean that Carver was going to let him have it.

"Are you seriously slacking off? Now!?"

Malcolm looked at his pile of essays and tests that he still had to make up but he wanted nothing more than to burn the whole pile. He tried not to scowl, but his face still twisted in a grimace as he failed to come up with a believable excuse. "I know that's what it looks like but that nap was important."

Carver balled his fist. "Do you want me to hit you for real?"

Malcolm groaned. He didn't expect to be believed. "If you do, will you let me go back to sleep?"

That earned him a smack to the back of the head. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you think that because we're friends you can walk all over me?" Carver snarled, slamming his hand on Malcolm's desk. "Do you understand I have a job to keep? That if I keep having to bail your stupid ass out I'm going to lose it quick!"

Malcolm shrank, knowing this lecture was coming but it didn't take out the lurch from his gut. "I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

Carver lowered his head so his brown eyes were level with Malcolm, sympathy on his face. "Meredith went snooping for who your lover is, and Charlie...might have blamed Taylor."

Malcolm's face paled, his gut sucking in. "He didn't."

Carver chuckled as he pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was trying to fight off a headache. "It worked. For now. Meredith's obviously smart enough not to believe it but this alibi and the fact you were found on grounds means the Knight Commander has decided you won't get further punishment than detention. And Taylor at least didn't deny it."

Malcolm couldn't believe this. "I'm going to kill him," he growled. "He could have just kept his mouth shut and let her keep looking."

"Right to Leandra?" Carver raised his eyebrows as he looked up to the sky for help. "You're lucky Charlie was so convincing. Honestly, it's safer this way. If the Knight Commander finds out about you and Leandra I don't know what he'd do. He might have a heart attack."

"Hey, free promotion, right?" Malcolm tried to break the tension with a joke, but it was clear that was a mistake from the fierceness of Carver's glare.

He pointed a gauntleted finger at Malcolm. "No more sneaking out, Hawke. I mean it. You'll see Leandra this weekend at her estate. Be happy with that," then Carver grimaced. "Though you might want to bring her up to speed in case this gets back to her."

The grin on his face dropped. How could he explain this. Still, he was looking forward to that, sleeping outside the Circle, in a real bed, with no bars on the windows. A templar would be there to guard him, but he was sure he could figure out a way to sneak past them and spend much needed time with Leandra.

Still, Malcolm couldn't honor that promise. He already asked Leandra to go to that party and he texted his boss, Cross, he'd be there. He put on his most innocent grin and said, "Don't worry, dude, I think I've pushed boundaries enough for a while."

Carver's shoulders relaxed at that. "I'm glad to hear it."

Malcolm felt a little bad lying to Carver, but he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. Carver wouldn't know a thing. He needed to see Leandra in that dress that he found in the back of her closet. It was hot pink, and the fabric so flimsy he wasn't sure how it was held together. The sides had giant holes and he couldn't see how that skirt would cover much of anything. He hoped he could convince her to wear it. He could just imagine the jealous looks of every man there if she was in his arms.

The bell rang and Malcolm knew lunch was over and Carver wouldn't hold him hostage much longer. Carver glared at him. "If you don't want the Knight-Commander to change his mind about your assignment, you might want to get to the train so you can arrive at the clinic on time."

Malcolm perked up. He actually did enjoy riding the train across the water to the mainland. Technically the clinic was part of the Circle, but it was one of the few places where Malcolm got to interact with Kirkwall's citizens. Healing their ailments, hearing their stories about their families, eating their sweets and snacks that they brought as thanks, made him feel like he finally had a place in the world finally.

"Don't worry, Carver. Today was just a hiccup. You're not going to get any more problems from me, I promise."

Carver examined Malcolm's face, unsure if he should trust a word he was saying.

Students started to shuffle into the classroom though they paused when they saw Malcolm and Carver there. Malcolm noticed that they were all whispering to each other. From the growing crowd Arth shoved his way forward, saw Malcolm, and went red, scowling.

Malcolm couldn't resist saluting Arth mockingly, even if he was digging his own grave.

With other people watching, Carver was all business again, and he gestured with his head to the door with strictness in his voice. "Get moving, Hawke."

Malcolm slouched, grabbing his stuff as he ambled out of the classroom, whispers and snickers following his footsteps. He knew he should get back the flower forest and strengthen the Kindness spirit so Zelophehad couldn't destroy it further. But his evening was promised to the clinic, and he couldn't afford to ditch class again and lose his position as a House Mage. He could only hope that Zelophehad's eyes were peering elsewhere for now.