Despite her constant bedroom 'training,' the magister kept Claire a virgin, and she wondered if he was saving her for some horrible sacrifice or blood magic ritual. She constantly felt dirty and didn't think that she was any less violated than if he was actually having sex with her. Why was she allowing him to do this to her? Why hadn't she ventured into his dreams yet, to change his mind? The nightmares she was having, the panic attacks every time she was called to his room... Abelia tried to comfort her, but it wasn't something the elf could understand or relate to, having grown up in the lifestyle.
After a few months of it, Claire went into the Fade and sought out Tyranius' dream, hoping that just because he was a mage himself didn't mean that he was awake in the Fade. As she searched, she prayed he was dreaming... The Maker must have heard her, for she found Tyranius' dream and entered it with no problems. She was in a large room, with the walls made of great stones, and there on the dais next to a large stone altar was Tyranius. He was leaning over an elf who was naked and tied down, her auburn hair splayed out around her head. Abelia struggled, but she was tied too tightly.
Claire could feel the magister's emotions surrounding her, and it made her sick. He was never a very good mage compared to the others, but he was good enough to be made a magister, and he was always looking for a way to get the leg up on the others. He had no delusions of becoming archon, but he wouldn't mind a bit more power, and if that meant sacrificing his favorite slave, then so be it. Claire felt her heart skip a beat as he raised the ceremonial blade and found herself running up to the altar.
"No!" She said. "You don't need to do it this way!" She looked into Abelia's eyes and saw adoration as the elf smiled up at her. She had to remind herself that it was just the magister's dream version of the girl and focused on him.
"You don't understand!" He spat. "Who are you but a slave?"
"I am more powerful than you'll ever be and you know it!" Claire snapped back. "If you make me your apprentice you could show me off, show all those other magisters that you are worth something to get someone like me as an apprentice. And I will stick by you, no matter how many offers to leave you I get." He looked surprised, then nodded.
"I have been thinking as much." He said. "I have been watching you, after all. You know that as my apprentice, you're still not much better than a slave to me?"
She could feel his lie and shook her head. "That's not true. Apprentices are much better than slaves."
"Fine." He said, angry. "Then how about a compromise? You continue to do your... extra lessons... and I won't torture Abelia." She had already alerted him to her presence, he would be prepared next time. Would she ever learn not to give people a weapon against her? She nodded and stepped back out of his dream. She was exhausted, and feeling a bit depressed about being blackmailed. The real test would be to find out in the morning whether he would actually remember it, and go through with it.
Despite her exhaustion, she decided to spend the rest of her time in the Fade searching for Anders again. It had been a while since she had last seen him, not since the extra lessons had started, and she really missed him. Letting her will guide her, she found herself back in the Ferelden tower area, and in front of Anders. He was staring at a small amulet and looking more depressed than she had imagined he could.
"Anders..." She spoke softly, not wanting to alarm him. He clenched his fist around the amulet and stared at nothing.
"The most common way for a Circle mage to die is by his own hand." He said. She recognized it from the game, though they were a long ways off from when he said it then.
"Did you lose someone...?" She asked. "Are you going to be all right?"
"We knew he wasn't going to last." He said. "If we grow attached, it only gives the Templars more power over us. I still thought I could at least try to help him."
"I'm sorry." Claire said, putting a comforting hand on his back. "I wish there was a way to help."
"I came here hoping to see him one last time."
"Did you... did you love him?" She asked. He looked at her sharply, eyes narrowed.
"Love him...?" He asked. "As in was he my lover? No! What would give you that idea?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend." Claire said, backing up. Why did she have to go and open her mouth? Hadn't she learned anything? She supposed she was just trying to figure out if he did like men, or just women, or both, but she had picked the wrong time.
He shrugged tiredly and looked back at the amulet. "I don't like to form friendships, especially in the tower. He was just a few years younger than me, not someone who should take their own life, but I'm apparently not the right person to talk to about that sort of thing." He tossed the amulet to the side and looked at Claire, smiling. "You've grown! And here you were worried." He was trying to put on a happy face for her, but she could still see the hurt in his eyes.
"It would have been better had I stayed flat chested." She groaned. "But oh well. Other than mourning the loss of yet another apprentice, how are you doing?" She wasn't feeling up to talking about her life, but by the look he was giving her, she didn't think she had much of a choice.
"What do you mean, what did the magister do to you?" He asked, narrowing his eyes like an overprotective brother. Claire looked at him, worried about what he would say if he found out.
"Um, not really something that's good to repeat in polite company." She said, blushing.
"Claire, if he's hurting you..." He grew angry. "He hasn't ruined you, has he?"
"Ruined me?" Claire asked, seriously confused. "Ruined me for what? I'm still alive and I have all my limbs, and I can still do my magic just fine, and he's training me."
He cupped her face in his hand and she flinched away. "What about for physical contact?" He asked. "Can you even bear the touch of a man anymore?" He dropped his hand to his side.
Her eyes flashed angrily as she stared at the ground, hot tears coursing down her face. "I can't even stand the touch of a woman, or... or anyone. But that's the price I have to pay for being what I am. I... I'm no better than a demon!" It was a thought that had been plaguing her since she had discovered she was somniari. She could manipulate the Fade, change people's dreams, influence dreamers, learn their secrets... and how else was she to learn magic from those experienced in dealing with somniari than to apprentice with a magister? He had all the books and scrolls, and she was learning a lot from him in general, from a culture that embraced magic rather than shunned it.
Anders looked at her in shock. "A demon? You are nothing like a demon!" He yelled. "And you should not feel like you deserve to be... tortured like this, just for being who you are! You're still a human, with feelings, and those matter! You matter!" Claire fell to the ground sobbing. Why did he have to care? She was just supposed to be a nobody, someone who didn't matter, someone outside of the story... She was going to mess everything up... She felt strong arms around her, holding her, and at first it sent a jolt of fear into her heart and she tried to pull away, but he was still there, gentle and caring, not asking for anything in return.
"I should just make you forget me." Claire said, sniffling as she wiped the tears from her eyes. "It's not fair for you."
"Don't you dare." He growled. "I am here for you willingly. And don't think about never coming back to see me, because I'll find you myself, somehow."
"Why do you care so much?" She asked.
He hesitated for a moment before responding. "I dunno... I feel protective of you, have since I ran into you in the forest looking all lost and alone. Besides, you risked a lot for me when you didn't have to, and when I wasn't even in any real danger. Why do you care so much?" He had a good point, one she would have to think about carefully before replying, so she didn't give any game info away.
After a moment, she said, "I hate to see others in pain, and I hate how the mages are treated in Ferelden, or the Free Marches, or well... most of Thedas. Seeing you being abused by the Templars... It's funny you say you feel protective of me, when I want to protect you. I suppose we can watch each other's backs." She sighed. "I know I've said it before, but I've never had a friend like you before... certainly not since before my parents died. You know, I had a decent life until I turned twelve, then it just fell apart..."
"You too?" He asked. "Except it was my father who sold me out to the Templars, and off I was packed to the tower. Seems to be a popular age..."
"I suppose you're essentially an orphan, too, then." She said. After a moment of silence, she said, "Here, let me lighten the mood a bit. Where do you want to go most of all?"
"I keep hearing about the white beaches of Llomerynn." He said. "I think those would be fun to visit. I've never been to a beach, you know. I don't think the coast of Ferelden counts for much, since it's mostly just cliffs."
"Considering I grew up on a beach, I think I can figure something out." She laughed and stood up, concentrating. "I've been practicing, but I didn't want to show you until I was really good at it." She focused on the sand, making it white like she'd seen in pictures, with little seashells and the occasional pebble. Then the ocean, with gentle lapping waves going in and out, licking the shore. She poured her memories into it, forming the sky with puffy white clouds and seagulls, and for added measure, she put in plant life, with palm trees and ferns.
Anders bent down and grabbed a handful of sand. "This is so real... The smells, the air... I feel like I'm not in the Fade..."
"Scary?" She asked. "I don't know how to feel about it. It helps me escape, but the thought that I can use this for nefarious purposes scares me. What I know, what I can do... what I've seen..." Maybe one day she would tell him she could see the future, but she was terrified of how he would react to that.
"I suppose it is a bit terrifying." He said. "But I trust you. Now me? I would be haunting all the Templars in the tower, giving them nightmares of them chasing apostates, then realizing they're not wearing any pants!"
"Hah, that'd be hilarious to see." She said. "If I find one who particularly displeases me... I might have to remember that." Anders walked over to the water and let the waves wash over his hand.
"It must have been amazing to grow up on a beach." He said. "What other places have you been to?"
"How about the next time I visit, I show you?" She smiled.
"Then I hope your next visit is soon." He said, smirking.
Claire decided to visit him a few days later, but was very confused when she saw his expression. "Um, is everything all right?" She asked.
"I've just been thinking..." He said. "You mentioned you grew up on a beach, yet you're paler than most Fereldens. I have met a few Rivaini in my life, and they're fairly tanned. It just strikes me as strange."
"Oh, is that all?" She laughed. "My family is actually not from Long Beach, they just moved there when I was maybe three." Not sure how else to show him her Nordic ancestry, she created Whiterun, from Skyrim, surrounded by tall white mountains. Concentrating really hard, she created male voices singing the song Nord Mead, a song done by her favorite fan musician.
Anders listened for a while, then looked at her sharply. "Those words, they say they kill dragons?"
She nodded. "They're a tribe of warriors, the Nords. Although I don't think there's been a dragon sighted in years."
"I've never heard of the Nords." He said. "I've never heard of this Long Beach, either. Are you sure you're from this world?" Again she was caught without a proper answer. She wracked her brain and finally came up with something.
"There is a lot more to the world than just Thedas." She said. "So much more above Par Vollen. Where do you think the Qunari came from?"
"And you were sent here by magic then?" He sounded skeptical and she rolled her eyes at him.
"Of course, how else would I have gotten here?" She said. "Just because my people shun magic doesn't mean they don't use magical relics. Too bad that technology has been lost." She had just pretty much sealed the fact she would never tell him where she was really from. He looked around Whiterun again.
"It's cold here, probably colder than Ferelden." He said.
"You should see the amount of snow they get in the winter." She said, weaving the wintry world around them, with only three feet of snow, and she dropped the temp down to something that wouldn't kill them outright, but would show how cold it could get.
"Andraste's flaming knickerweasles!" Anders yelled. "Are you trying to kill me?" She brought the temp back up and laughed.
"Do you see why my parents moved to the beach?" She asked.
"Yes, very much so." He rubbed his arms trying to get some more warmth back into them, so she changed the season to summer, a nice warm climate.
"It's at least pretty in the springtime and summer." She bent down and picked a little white flower. "Maybe when I get better, I can create proper animals too and we can go horse riding."
"That sounds like fun."
"I'll keep practicing then." He grinned at her and laid down on the grass, looking up at the clouds.
"I wish we could stay here forever..."
"Maybe one of these days..."