"You know how this story starts. Ferelden was on the brink of being devoured in an approaching Blight because they had cast out the Grey Warden order four ages ago. Duncan, the current commander when the darkspawn broke the surface, scoured Ferelden, looking for recruits to join his mythical gang. And the first place he went? The Circle of Magi. Home to the woman who would become known as the Hero of Ferelden.
"On a cliff overlooking the dark waters of Lake Calenhad stands the tower fortress that is home to the Circle of Magi. The Tower is the only place in Ferelden where mages can study their art. Within the high stone walls, the Circle practices its magic and trains apprentices in the proper use of their powers.
"But the Circle Tower is as much a prison as a refuge; the ever vigilant templars of the Chantry watch over all mages, constantly alert for any sign of corruption."
Cassandra's face looked thunderous at his description, no doubt wishing the circles were more prison-like so people like Anders wouldn't come to be. "Let's agree to disagree on this point, Seeker."
She was hardly appeased, but she pursed her lips and let him continue his narration.
"The gilded cage of the tower was the only life Solona Amell knew. Her sensitivity for magic was discovered at a young age. She grew up inside those walls. In more ways than one.
"Back then, Firecracker would never have fought against the templars. She was very much on their side. Magic to her was exhilaration, and she was prone to catastrophes. The templars kept her safe. Blood magic was abhorrent."
"But no longer," the Seeker said, slyly.
Varric released a weighty sigh. "When you've lived through the shit she did, you toughen up. You make tough decisions you don't want to make and justify those means which you thought you would never turn to."
16 Haring, 9:30 Dragon
The library was teeming with people. Steady chatter filled Solona's ears as she paged through the tome in front of her. Chants, warnings—which were always on the bottom of the page for some reason—drawings of glyphs. Magic was wondrous, she thought. The sheer number of spells she could learn. All of the enchanters warned the mages to not overtax themselves by studying multiple schools. Most of her fellow mages heeded that warning.
But not Solona. She couldn't imagine restricting herself to one or two schools. How could she when finding a new spell made her heart flutter.
"What has caught your interest this time, Solona?"
The blonde mage turned in her seat, giving the armored man standing at her shoulder a broad grin. "Has your shift started already, Ser Cullen?"
Maybe it was just her, but Cullen Rutherford had the most gorgeous amber eyes. And currently those eyes were locked on her.
"I came on just a few minutes ago. But when you didn't immediately call out, I decided to come and see what has stolen your attention."
Solona fought down a blush at the implication that the templar liked her attention. The templars actually weren't supposed to be so friendly with the charges they guarded. New arrivals to the tower enjoyed the slightly relaxed atmosphere.
"Take a look at this." She encouraged him to draw closer to her in order to see the text she was pointing at. "I've found the next spell in the lightning tree. It's a shock spell. See how it has a larger area of effect?"
Cullen laughed, brightly. "I've never seen you so excited. So, have you decided on lightning magic, then?"
"I think there's beauty in it." Solona ducked her head, suddenly shy and wishing that she grew her honey gold locks long enough to hide behind. "Gone in a flash, but in that one instance, it holds so much power. Lightning illuminates the sky, almost like someone is trying to paint it."
"I hadn't thought about it like that." Cullen's breath slipped past her ear, causing goosebumps to rise. Oh, Maker, she shouldn't be thinking about him like that. Dalliances between templars and mages were forbidden. So were ones between mages for that matter, but First Enchanter Irving and Knight-Commander Greagoir overlooked relationships that occurred, being of the opinion that happy mages were less likely to give in to the temptations of demons.
Grim and taciturn, Greagoir had been Knight-Commander of the templar forces stationed at Kinloch hold for so many years that hardly anyone except Irving recalled that he was not simply part of the tower itself.
Solona remembered when she first arrived. She had been young, about six or so. She's been told she had been brought from Kirkwall, though no one had ever been explained why she was sent to Ferelden's circle and not Kirkwall's.
"It certainly is beautiful," he said huskily.
Maker, she must have given him the appearance that she was waiting for him to say something. To be fair, Solona wanted nothing more than to listen to this man speak.
"I'll leave you to it. Do me a favor?"
"Sure," she agreed, hoping she hadn't sounded too eager.
"Wait until I'm off duty to try that one. I don't want to be on the receiving end of one of your spells."
With a cheeky grin, Cullen retreated to the stone wall, taking up his post and briefly surveying the rest of the library and taking note of the mages within.
Solona slumped weakly in her seat. How could one man affect her so strongly?
Solona gasped awake when something covered her mouth. She thrashed against the hands holding her, but she stood no chance. Roughly, she was dragged out of her bed and through the apprentice quarters. She tried to crane her neck and get a look at who had grabbed her. She received a cuff to the head and a growled warning to keep her eyes forward.
She wondered if the basic healing spell she knew could do anything for her rapidly beating heart. As she was pushed through the unlit halls, Solona nearly worked herself into a full-blown panic. She couldn't get her heart to slow down, nor prevent her thoughts from spiraling.
Kidnapping a mage from the tower? Right under the templar's noses? She'd never heard of such a thing happening.
"You are to proceed through those doors."
Belatedly, Solona realized her abductors had stopped before a set of large wooden doors. Two templars held them open, and she wanted to cry with relief.
She'd been brought to the top of the tower. Solona had never been above the third floor, as the fourth housed all the templars. Her terror was replaced with a sense of ease. While the delivery could use some work, she was finally about to undergo her Harrowing. And once she passed, she would be granted access to higher level magics. Though, she was disappointed that the Harrowings didn't occur in the basement. She owed Jowan a favor now.
"Thank you for the escort, Ser Bran." Solona dipped into a curtsey, not missing how one of the other men snorts, and strode through the doors.
Crossing the threshold stole the breath from her lungs. Not from anticipation or fear though.
This chamber felt different. The Veil, the metaphysical barrier separating the Fade from the physical world, was thin. Thinner than the soup they had served at the evening meal. It had been more water than broth and its contents were soggy, gray, and indistinguishable.
Solona was sensitive to the Fade. More so than most apprentices. It was why she was sent to the Circle at such a young age. Logically, she knew that the Veil was weaker in places that had seen lots of death or extensive use of magic.
Never had she given any thought to the number of apprentices that must have passed through those doors. How many mages would have been put to the test over nine centuries? How many of those had failed, becoming a host for a demon and forcing the templars into bearing their blade?
Enough that she could actually sense the Veil. Solona raised a hand before her, half hoping that she could push against the Veil. Her arm passed through air. There was no ripple or any sign of the mysterious barrier. She blushed self-consciously, admonishing herself for expecting to be able to reach the other side. The Veil was thin, not broken.
The doors snap shut behind her with a sense of foreboding, startling Solona back to attention. There was no time for her to dwell on the state of the Veil. Thin and prickling at her senses, she still had a Harrowing to undergo.
At the top of a flight of short, curved stairs were half a dozen templars, stationed around the circular room, as well as the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter. To Greagoir's immediate right were three more templars.
Cullen was the only one not wearing his helm. Her violet eyes met his, and she looked away with a flush, desperately pushing away the remnants of the dream she had before she was torn from her slumber.
Greagoir stepped forward as she approached, and she bites back the temptation to speak with him. "Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him."
As it was, Solona couldn't resist mouthing the words. The Knight-Commander's left eye twitched, but Solona was more curious to see Cullen's reaction. She was pleased to see the hand placed over his mouth, no doubt to hide his grin.
"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's also a curse, for the demons of the dream realm—the Fade—are drawn to you, and seek to use you as gateway into this world."
Irving moved to stand on her other side. "This is why the Harrowing exists," he said gravely. "The ritual sends you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon, armed with only your will."
Unbidden, words spilled from her mouth. "What if I cannot defeat the demon?"
Solona already knew the answer, but Greagoir reminded her anyway. "It will turn you into an abomination and the templars will be forced to slay you."
It took a supreme force of will to keep her attention on the Knight-Commander.
"This is lyrium," he gestured towards the pedestal that was alight with the telltale soft blue shine of lyrium. "The very essence of magic and your gateway into the Fade."
Solona swallowed her fear, an act which did not go unnoticed.
"The Harrowing is a secret out of necessity, child. Every mage must go through this trial by fire. As we succeeded, so shall you."
She relaxed at the First Enchanter's show of confidence. Irving was a pleasant man, but he held no love for lies or coddling. He did everything in his power to ensure that mages were ready for this moment when it came. Solona had only witnessed one mage become Tranquil. It was a fate she would never wish for herself.
Irving believed in her, despite her young age. Solona knew of no mage before her that was Harrowed at nineteen. She would pass this test. Any other fate was unacceptable.
"Keep your wits about you," Irving advised, "and remember the Fade is a realm of dreams. The spirits may rule it, but her own will is real."
"The apprentice must go through this test alone, First Enchanter."
Solona was actually grateful for the commander's interruption. In his efforts to prepare her, Irving was causing her anxiety to skyrocket. She much preferred simply being told that she must go into the Fade and confront a demon. She admired the straightforwardness of it, of having one singular goal to accomplish.
"If you are ready?"
"Do I really get a choice?" she jokingly asked, even as she moved toward the pedestal.
Solona's first impression of the Fade was disappointing. Compared to her dreams, the clearing she finds herself in is a washed out, pale, sickly green color. Only her immediate surroundings are clear. Everything beyond her peripheral vision begins to stretch and blur indistinctly.
There's a rather disturbing statue on the other side of the clearing. She can't resist getting a closer look. At the elbow, both of its arms have transformed into something else entirely. Two more protrusions come up from the top of its skull. It's rather detailed for something Solona hasn't the faintest idea what it is. The expression on the face was one of shock, as if it had been caught off guard by the petrification.
The blonde shuddered. Having to match wills and wits against a demon was challenging enough. Now she couldn't let her guard down for even a moment, or a spirit might transform her into a statue.
Ready to move on, Solona directed her attention towards the vase.
In every lecture she's heard on the Fade, she's been advised to examine everything. It was already difficult for the casual observer to tell the difference between the Fade and the creatures that lived within it, let alone between one type of spirit and another. In truth, there was little that distinguished them, even for the most astute mages. Since spirits were not physical entities, they weren't restricted to recognizable forms, or even having a form at all. One could never tell for certain what was alive and what was merely part of the scenery in the Fade or a demon lying in wait.
It would be just Solona's luck that the obvious creepy statue was a decoy and the real demon was the innocent looking vase ten feet to its right.
Upon inspection, however, she found three elfroot potions. She tucked them into her pocket, trying not to wonder how they came to be in the Fade.
The only path she sees leads down the hill. Conscious that she has a limited time to complete her Harrowing, Solona moved briskly. She literally got two feet down the hill before a wisp wraith hit her with a bolt of spirit energy. Solona quickly shook it off, firing back a spell of her own. One lightning bolt later and the wraith was vanquished.
She didn't know how aware the templars and the First Enchanter would be about what occured in her Harrowing. On the off chance that they could track her performance, or at least magic use, Solona stuck to elemental spells. They're safe, but powerful. Common. Once Harrowed, she could finally explore her connection to the Entropy tree without having to sneak into the library after curfew and constantly looking over her shoulder for a templar dashing off to report her alarming interest in the tree of debilitating magic.
Entropic spells sang to Solona when she cast them, but every mage in the tower knew the only reason Uldred had been permitted to specialize in Entropic spells was so apprentices would have an experienced mentor to learn under, hopefully cutting down on accidents, and more importantly, the chance of demonic possession. Apprentices, herself included, avoided the Entropy tree like it was Blighted to avoid drawing suspicion from their watchdogs. When the mage successfully passed her Harrowing, she would be a full-fledged member of the Circle, unable to be made Tranquil. With that safety net, Solona could finally explore the magic she wished to specialize in.
The trail curved upwards again. Solona meandered by broken (and possibly charred) columns and more weird cracked stone pillars. She zapped two more wraiths in quick succession. She was beginning to think the Fade might be affecting her when she spied a stone pillar that resembled a carrot, complete with pale orange colored protrusions that reminded her of crow's feet.
The path continued to twist and weave, down the hill and around the corner. Solona seriously wondered if the Fade was naturally this confusing and how much of what she saw was influenced by her subconscious.
She would freely admit that she would have overlooked the mouse if it hadn't started talking.
"Someone else thrown to the wolves. As fresh and unprepared as ever. It isn't right that they do this, the templars. Not to you, me, anyone."
Solona didn't think she'd ever been quite so surprised. Nothing in her years at the tower had prepared her for a demon in the shape of a mouse. But was it truly a demon, she wondered. She always imagined she would be able to sense one, that demons would give off this aura that screamed their true nature. Aside from the fact that it talked, she found nothing abnormal about the creature before her.
"You're a talking rat."
The rat scoffed. "You think you're really here? In that body? You only look like that because you think you do!" Solona tried to imagine herself as a dragon and was disappointed when nothing happened. Unaware of her lapse in attention, the mouse continued. "It's always the same. But it's not your fault. You're in the same boat I was, aren't you?"
In a flash of light, the mouse was replaced with the form of a rather harrowed looking man.
"Allow me to welcome you to the Fade. You can call me . . . well, Mouse."
Solona shouldn't have been as surprised as she was. Nonetheless, the only thing she could think to say was: "You can change your shape?"
Idly, she wondered if Mouse would be willing to teach her, because even if it was only within the Fade, turning into a dragon would be sweet. Solona slapped her hands to her cheeks, ignoring the confused look the action garnered from Mouse. She still had no proof he wasn't a demon. She shouldn't be thinking about learning from it.
"Like I said," Mouse soldiered on, "in this place, you are what you perceive yourself to be. I think I used to be like you . . . before. The templars kill you if you take too long, you see. They figure you failed, and they don't want something getting out. That's what they did to me, I think. I have no body to reclaim. And you don't have much time before you end up the same."
Fear gripped her heart. Solona had no way in which to measure the passage of time in the Fade. Could the templars have already slain her, for fear of possession?
"How long do I have, exactly?"
Mouse hesitated as he answered. "I . . . don't remember. I ran away and hid. I don't know how long."
"That's not going to happen to me." If she dies it will be because she failed. Not because she ran and hid like a coward.
Mouse shook his head, sympathetically. "That's been said before. But you don't know the danger. There's something here, contained, just for an apprentice like you. You have to face the creature, a demon, and resist it, if you can.
"That's your way out. Or your opponent's, if the templars wouldn't kill you. A test for you, a tease for the creatures of the Fade."
Solona's eyes narrowed as she studied the supposed mage, suspicion rising when he contradicted himself. How does the man who hid from his trial know what the Harrowing consists of?
Putting on an air of confidence, Solona claimed to not understand why the test is so feared. They had been trained since admittance to the tower on how to resist the corruption of demons.
"You would be a fool to attack everything you see. What you face is powerful, cunning." So, her demon wasn't going to jump her or look like a demon. Well, she supposed it would be too easy to pass otherwise. "There are others here, other spirits. They will tell you more, maybe help. If you can believe anything you see," his finished ominously.
Solona stared at him for a moment, as he appeared to be debating whether or not to say something more. "I'll follow, if that's all right. My chance was long ago, but you . . . you may have a way out."
There's a niggling thought at the back of her mind. This Mouse character is more than he's revealed himself to be. It may not be entirely safe to have him come with her, but Solona thought it would be infinitely more dangerous to lose track of this Fade spirit.
"A dangerous spirit is not far. Don't go near it unless you are prepared to fight," Mouse warned.
Solona pressed forward, drawn towards the clearing where billows of smoke rose. Fifteen patches of fire burned with no apparent source, arranged in a half circle. Solona was uneasily reminded of an arena. She gave a wide berth to the rock formation that appeared to be a raw lyrium vein. She knows how dangerous lyrium is in that form, and given that she is in the Fade, it was almost certainly a trap.
"This is where the test will take place. The demon isn't always here, but this is where he manifests."
The mage tucked that knowledge away, wondering just what this spirit's purpose was. If every mage had a guide when they completed their Harrowing, the test really shouldn't be feared at all. So far, she'd encountered nothing more dangerous than a wisp.
"It is dangerous to be out in the open like this. Not that hiding helps much in the Fade."
"How have you survived here so long?" Solona queried.
"I missed my chance," Mouse said in lieu of a real answer, "so I became small. Unnoticeable. I hide from the bigger things, learn from the smaller things. There are places you can hide where the shadows go on forever. You stay there long enough, and the shadows begin to creep inside of you. I . . . don't know how long it's been. Forever, maybe."
Mouse had built himself up to a full-blown rant. "The templars are sadistic bastards. Everyone must face the Harrowing because there's a small chance a mage might become possessed and become an abomination. Thrown to the mercy of a demon when you're at your weakest. 'For the safety of all.'"
The female mage frowned as Mouse continued to rave about the injustice of the Harrowing and how it was handled, about templars that would never see the people behind the magic, killing them for learning more than they should.
Was Mouse a physical representation of her subconscious, giving voice to the fears and doubts she never wanted to consider, afraid of the implications?
She had grown up in the Circle Tower. Tensions was the way of life amongst the higher ranked inhabitants. Solona got on well enough with the templars, though that wasn't true for every apprentice. But she had always chalked up their gossips and rumors as simply that; fanciful lies spun between friends to distract themselves from a task they found weary.
The Knight-Commander and First Enchanter were careful to get along in the eyesight of their subordinates, but Solona had once overheard an argument between them. Irving had been protesting Greagoir's abuse of authority to make one of his mages Tranquil.
Had her own mind created Mouse? A reminder that she shouldn't dally?
"You don't want to lose yourself here. Being nothing would be easier than this. I . . . think you should finish your Harrowing."
Whatever Mouse's truth was, he made a point. Solona couldn't afford to linger.
Her path continued to weave through the Fade. The further Solona progressed, the less resemblance she saw to reality.
Another two wisp wraiths fell to her lightning. She had just dealt with the second one and was pulling three more health potions from the bottom of another vase when Mouse put her on guard, informing her of a nearby spirit.
"Another spirit this way. It never seemed equal to its name to me."
Solona studied the newest spirit with a critical eye. It looked like a spirit should. Or at least how she imagined one should. It was man wearing templar armor, of all things, made entirely of white light. She was more intrigued by what appeared to be physical—spiritual?—weapons behind him.
"Another mortal thrown into the flames and left to burn, I see," it said as she approached. "Your mages have devised a cowardly test. Better that you were pitted against each other to prove your mettle with skill, than to be sent unarmed against a demon."
The mage was certain that she would never see anything so ironic as a templar besmirching the Harrowing and actively arguing for mages to fight so long as she lived. Although it would have been nice if she had been given a simple wooden staff before she was tossed into the Fade. It was much less taxing to shape mana when the staff acted as a focus.
"You know why I am here?" she asked.
"You are not the first sent here for such testing. Nor shall you be the last I suspect."
Alarm bells went off in Solona's head. The spirit, and Mouse, implied that every mage that has ever undergone the Harrowing had come to the same exact spot. Given the vastness of the Fade, she found that hard to accept. Somehow, that pedestal that had been in the Harrowing chamber must connect to this one area of the Fade. It meant that every aspect of her trial was being controlled from the outside. The two spirits she had come across served a specific purpose.
Based on what little he had said already, Solona surmised that this templar spirit was a test. He would try to persuade her that it was foolish to fight a demon unarmed.
But in doing so, the spirit overlooked her very nature. As a mage, she was never unarmed. She didn't need a sword in order to lop off a demon's head.
"That you remain means you have not yet defeated your hunter. I wish you a glorious battle to come."
Since the spirit seemed to be in a helpful mood, Solona decided it couldn't hurt to ask it more questions.
"What else do you know about the Harrowing?"
"Is that what your test is called?" He sounded genuinely surprised. "I know little of your mortal ways. I do know that a demon has been called and told that a meal awaits."
Solona dry swallowed. While that confirmed her suspicions about the templars arranging the pieces in the Fade much like pawns on a chessboard, it was unnerving to learn that they practically handed the mages to demons on silver platters.
"It will not, cannot leave," the spirit corrected itself, "until one of you is dead."
Perhaps there was no time limit, if the templars had bound a demon to this part of the Fade. Maybe they simply waited, vigilant, for mage or demon to overpower the other.
But if that was true, what did that make Mouse's spirit? Speaking of . . .
"What kind of spirit are you?"
"I am Valor, a warrior spirit. I hone my weapons in search of the perfect expression of combat."
Solona pointed to the two hazy weapon racks behind him. "Did you create all of these weapons?"
"They are brought into being by my will," explained Valor. "I understand that in your world, mages are the only ones that bring things into being."
Well, that was a polite way of describing a mage's ability to rain down fireballs.
The spirit lamented. "Those mortals that cannot must lead such hollow, empty lives."
"That would be the Tranquil," Solona shot back, unthinking. Most mages bemoaned their gift. She had always hated how they let the words of a woman long dead convince them that they were born with magic as a punishment. Andraste had fought against Tevinter, which to this day still brazenly used blood magic. Mages brought to the tower had a chance to do amazing things. Magic was capable of so much, and so many squandered it, afraid, when they needed to embrace it.
"Would one of those weapons affect a demon?" Solona asked, returning to reason she had chosen to approach Valor. If he was willing to part with a staff, she would stand a much better chance against whatever demon had been summoned to devour her.
Valor seemed amused by her question. "Without a doubt. In this realm, everything that exists is an expression of thought. Do you think these blades be steel? These staves be wood? Do you believe they draw blood? A weapon is a single need for battle, and my will makes that reality."
His eyes peered at her through the slit in his helmet. Solona tried not to fidget as the being judged her. "Do you truly desire one of my weapons? I will give one to you-"
"Really?" That was easier than she expected.
"If you agree to duel me, first. Valor shall test your mettle as it should be tested."
And there was the catch. She supposed it was too much to ask for that the templars called forth altruistic spirits. "And what are the rules of this duel?"
"If I believe you are capable of slaying the demon, I will stop the duel and give you the staff. If I find you unworthy, I will slay you. I trust those rules are simple enough to remember, mortal?"
Succeed or die. It was like a mini-Harrowing.
"I agree to your duel, Valor."
"As you wish, mortal. Our duel begins now. Fight with Valor!"
Did the spirit just crack a joke?
Preoccupied by the probably unintentional pun, Solona narrowly avoided the gleaming spirit sword swung at her head. It didn't look dangerous, admittedly, but if Valor's will made it real, she definitely did not want to get hit. She ducked under his arm, thrusting both hands forward. An arcane bolt crackled to life between her spread palms and smacked right into the spirit's chest plate.
Valor staggered back briefly but regained his equilibrium and came at her again. This time, she wasn't fast enough to avoid the blow. Later, she would marvel at how the resulting pain had felt real, even though there was nary a mark on her. As it was, Solona hastened backwards, firing off a lightning bolt to prevent her opponent from following.
The lightning spell seemed to have more of an effect on the spirit. Valor had brushed off the spirit energy she had originally zapped him with. Solona charged up another lightning spell, calling upon all of her mana so that it would really pack a punch. She held no illusions about her ability to win this fight. Pitting a mage against a templar spirit was vastly unfair. Solona had no fighting abilities to speak of. But maybe, if she showed enough tenacity, Valor would call an end to the duel in her favor.
The spirit grunted when her spell struck home. "Enough. Your strength is sufficient to the task. The staff is yours."
"Will it stay with me when I leave the Fade?" Her hands caressed the length of the wood. Soon, she would have one to call her own.
"I suspect not."
"Is there anything else you could do to help me?"
"Short of battling the demon for you?" Wasn't that a thought? "No. May you find glory in all your achievements mortal."
Solona thanked the spirit for his help. Armed with a staff, she now stood a better chance against her demon. "Where to next, Mouse?" she asked the spirit at her feet.
The former mage directed her deeper into the Fade. Staff in hand, she made quick work of the pack of spirit wolves that ambushed her.
"Be cautious. There is another spirit here," Mouse announced once she was finished. "Not the one hunting you but still—"
The rest of Mouse's warning was cut off by a late comer to the party. The ethereal-esque spirit wolf howled behind her, teeth bared as it charged. Solona dispatched the beast with a sharp blow of her staff.
Confident that all the wolves had been dealt with, the female mage strode forward, ready to conquer the next spirit's test. Only, the next spirit wasn't a spirit at all. It was a demon.
It looked like a bear, though Solona wondered if bears were really as large as this demon. If so, she hoped never to meet one. Numerous bony spikes grew outward from the skin. Blood still dripped as if they were fresh wounds. The blood, the spikes, and the areas without skin all made for a gruesome picture. Silently, she cursed Mouse for telling her that her perception affected the Fade. Without that tidbit, she probably wouldn't be smelling rotting flesh.
Solona couldn't ever imagine letting such a thing inside her body.
The beast didn't even deign to uncurl its head from atop its paws as it spoke. "Hmm . . . so you are the mortal being hunted? And the small one . . . is he to be a snack for me?"
The lethargic manner in which it spoke allowed Solona to identify it as a sloth demon. Should she consider herself lucky for stumbling upon the one kind of demon not likely to fight for possession of her body, or tremble because sloth demons were masters of words? The demon before her was much more likely to seduce her with carefully chosen words to prey on her fears.
Mouse resumed his human form, probably so his fearful face wouldn't be missed. "I don't like this. He isn't going to help us. We should go . . ."
The demon scoffed. "No matter. The demon will get you eventually, and perhaps there will even be scraps left."
Contrary to his words, the hulking bereskarn gained his feet.
"What kind of spirit are you?"
"It's a demon. Maybe even more powerful than the one chasing after you." Mouse gave her a disparaging look, like he couldn't fathom her inability to tell the difference between a spirit and a demon, which was odd because he had originally labeled it a spirit.
Then this one would make wonderful practice, she thought.
"Begone. Surely you have better things to do than bother Sloth, mortal. I tire of you already." The demon shaped bear settled itself on the ground once more.
Curiosity got the better of her. Solona prayed to the Maker that those monitoring her Harrowing couldn't actually see what was happening. They would kill her on sight if they knew she was willingly conversing with a demon. "Why are you called Sloth? What are you?"
"I am a spirit of Sloth, a creature of the Fade . . . unlike yourself. Mortals are ever the visitors here. Still, you serve your function. Only mortals like yourself are truly annoying."
Solona can't help but feel affronted. A demon that couldn't even bother to look at her while they conversed had insulted her. "Mortals like me?"
"You are . . . aware. A mortal with power and will. The sort of creature that some spirits . . . hunger for. I might be inclined for such a meal, myself. It would be interesting to see the mortal world through your eyes, live inside your form . . . but I am disinclined to begin such a struggle."
No one could deny that the demon lived up to its name. "Lucky me."
"Indeed. Now, what do you want with me?"
"I need help defeating the demon," she stated. Could she earn another advantage for her upcoming battle by passing this demon's test?
"You have a very nice staff," Sloth yawned. "Why would you need me? Go, use your weapon since you have earned it. Be valorous."
"He looks powerful," Mouse whispered. "It might be possible he could . . . teach you to be like him."
Solona shot him a narrowed look. That sounded too much like Mouse wanted her to make a deal with the demon. It was an unexpected change of tune from just moments previous where he was all but backpedaling away from Sloth.
"Like me?" the demon repeated, shocked. "You mean teach the mortal to take this form? Why? Most mortals are too attached to their forms to change."
Bizarre as the circumstances are, she agreed with the demon. She had no desire to shapeshift like Mouse does. Unless turning into a dragon was still an option. It wasn't practical. The tower's wards prevented animals from entering. Rats, birds, nothing got through. Except for spiders. Those creepy crawlers bred like nugs. Solona was forever finding one in her bedspread.
Not to mention, if she came out of the Harrowing with an ability she didn't have previously, the templars would waste no time cutting her down.
"You on the other hand, little one, might be a better student," suggested Sloth. "You let go of the human form years ago."
"I . . . don't think I would make a very good bear. How would I hide?" Mouse prevaricated.
How quick the former mage donned his stripes. Solona was growing weary of Mouse's lies and deceptions. He was supposed to be helping her. "Hiding doesn't solve anything. We need to face our fears."
"We? I have faced more in this place than you can imagine. Fear . . . is just one more thing. But, you are right. Hiding doesn't help," Mouse admitted, shamed. "I'm sorry. It's the Fade. It changes you. I'll try. I'll try to be a bear, if you'll teach me."
"Hmm, that's nice." Sloth yawned for the umpteenth time. "But teaching is so exhausting. Away with you now."
"I told you he wasn't going to help us." Mouse's scorn was palpable.
Solona felt cheated. Even though she wasn't supposed to be making deals with demons, it wasn't fair that he made an offer and didn't follow through. "You can't not teach Mouse when you're the one that suggested it."
"I can't?" the demon slurred, distinctly amused. "You have so much to learn about the Fade, little mortal."
The blonde gritted her teeth. She never wanted to set foot in the Fade like this again.
"You wish to learn my form, little one? Then I have a challenge for your friend. Answer three riddles correctly, and I will teach you. Fail, and I will devour you both. The decision is yours."
Solona got the feeling that all creatures of the Fade were fond of ultimatums. This time, however, the mage was confident she could meet the challenge.
"Very well. Tell me your riddles."
"Truly? This gets more and more promising. The first riddle is this: I have seas with no water, coasts with no sand, towns without people, mountains without land. What am I?" posed Sloth.
"A map." Her answer was immediate.
"Correct," the creature grumbled. "Let's move on. The second riddle: I am rarely touched, but often held. If you have wit, you'll use me well. What am I?"
Too easy. "A tongue."
"Yes, your witty tongue. Fair enough. One more try, shall we? Often will I spin a tale, never will I charge a fee. I'll amuse you an entire eve, but alas, you won't remember me. What am I?"
"A dream."
"You are correct. Rather apropos here in the Fade, no? But you have won my challenge and proved yourself an amusing distraction. So, I shall teach you my form. Now, listen carefully."
Solona watched on, silent, as the demon explained how to become a bear to Mouse. "Like this? Am I a bear? It feels . . . heavy."
"Close enough." The Sloth demon shut its eyes. "Go, then, and defeat your demon . . . or whatever you intend to do. I grow weary of your mortal prattling."
Quickly, she retreated the way she came. Any longer and she might find herself taking a nap as well.
"Come, Mouse. Let's not waste any more time. I have a demon to confront." Solona had grown weary of the Fade and its denizens.
In bear form, Mouse lumbered ahead, leading her back towards the fire-ringed arena established for her battle. An uneasy feeling crept down her spine as they traveled. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something. Something about the test just didn't feel right.
For a test that was supposed to be fearsomely difficult to pass, Solona had had an easy time of it.
She hadn't been immediately jumped by a demon as soon as she entered the Fade. Instead, she stumbled across Mouse, who was very knowledgeable about both the dream realm and her test. Mouse had also directed her towards two other inhabitants of the Fade, both of which, with the right persuasion, had agreed to help her defeat her demon.
If this was one of the fantasy novels she secretly adored, Mouse would be a plant. Sent to play on her sympathies, only to turn around and stab her in the back because he was the demon hunting her. He knew too much about what exactly she needed to do to not be some kind of trick.
Solona faltered, mechanically waving off Mouse's concern by telling him they needed to hurry.
Mouse was the demon she needed to fight. He hadn't entered the arena earlier, just hovered on the edge to warn her that was where the demon would appear. His weak and spineless attitude was a façade to catch her unprepared.
And to think she had matched wits with a demon to help Mouse become stronger!
So, imagine her surprise to see a Rage demon awaiting her.
The senior enchanters' descriptions failed to capture the demon's true unnaturalness. The Rage demon was a thing of pure fire, its body seemingly made of amorphous lava and its eyes two pinpricks of baleful light radiating from its core.
Solona briefly regretted not looking up any ice spells.
"And so it comes to me at last." The demon drew itself up to its full height. "Soon, I shall see the land of the living through your eyes, creature. You shall be mine, body and soul."
Gripping the staff so tightly her knuckles turned white, the mage angled it in front of her defensively.
"It's two against one. You really want to fight us both?" She asked, hoping her words sounded stronger than she felt.
The demon tossed its head, unnervingly drawing attention to its lack of a mouth. "Amusing. Have you not told it of our . . . arrangement, Mouse?"
If the situation hadn't just turned into Solona having to face two demons, she would have gloated that she had already figured out Mouse's game. The Rage demon's dramatic reveal wasn't a shock.
"We don't have an arrangement!" Mouse shouted, fiercely. "Not anymore!"
"Aww. And after all those wonderful meals we have shared? Now suddenly the Mouse has changed the rules?"
Belatedly, Solona realized she didn't know what kind of demon Mouse was, aside from higher up in the chain than the Rage demon. Hunger perhaps, given the reference to shared meals?
"I'm not a mouse now!" Except in behavior, Solona thought. A little gratitude for the bear shape before he tried to eat her would have been appreciated. "And soon I won't have to hide! I don't need to bargain with you."
Solona reevaluated her conclusion. Mouse was probably a really weak Desire demon if he needed the Rage demon's help to survive.
"We shall see . . ."
The Rage demon summoned four wisp wraiths. Their lightning zaps were more annoying than anything, because they barely hurt her. But, since Mouse had engaged the Rage demon, Solona focused her attention on quickly eliminating the wisps.
A minute later she was able to jump in and help Mouse. Solona thrust her staff forward and a stream of lightning burst from the tip. The spell widened as it traveled from her, catching both the Rage demon and Mouse.
The demon turned white, dissipating.
Mouse dropped his bear form in favor of his natural image. "You did it. You actually did it! When you came, I hoped that you might be able to . . . but I never really thought any of you were worthy."
There went any sense of comradery she had had with this Fade creature. The idea that mages before her had been killed because this . . . loathsome coward determined them to be unworthy didn't sit well with her.
"The ones you betrayed before me. What were their names?" Solona was enraged. Was it anyone she had known?
"Wha-?" Mouse looked at her in disbelief. "They were not as promising as you."
"And that means they don't deserve to be remembered?! That they deserved to be fed to a demon?"
"It was a long time ago. I don't remember their names. I don't even remember my own name. It's the Fade. And the templars killing me, like they tried with you."
Solona couldn't listen to any more excuses. "The templars haven't tried to kill me. They don't put a mage through their Harrowing to kill them. It's a sign of respect for our dedication, will, and constraint. They believe in every mage they send here. That we can resist your temptations and poisonous words. You're the real monster here. Pretending to help mages only to lure them to their deaths! Anything to survive. Like an animal. Or worse."
Mouse shrugged off her righteous fury. "You defeated a demon. You completed your test. With time, you will be a master enchanter with no equal. And maybe there's hope in that for someone as small and forgotten as me. If you want to help, there may be a way for me to leave here, to get a foothold outside. You just need to want to let me in."
"And so my true test begins." Solona grinned, savagely.
Mouse crossed his arms defensively. "What? What do you mean? Of course, that was your test. What else is here that could harm an apprentice of your potential?"
She found it amusing how Mouse believed he could continue to feed her lines from his script. But he must have realized how weak that last bit of nugshit sounded, for he gave a low chuckle.
"You are a smart one." His voice took on that deep demonic tone as he continued. "Simple killing is a warrior's job. The real dangers of the Fade are preconceptions, careless trust. Pride."
Slack jawed, Solona stared as Mouse more than doubled in size, revealing the monstrous form of a Pride demon.
"Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests never end."
Ominous warning delivered, Mouse vanished. The Fade turned black, and Solona knew no more.
