"Reincarnation isthe religious or philosophical concept that the soul or spirit, after biological death, can begin a new life in a new body."

"Restart"

'Where am I?'

Her world swayed to and fro. The clip clop of hooves filled the air, causing her head to throb. The chirping of birds usually didn't bother her much, but today it felt like the sound itself was akin to a jackhammer drilling it's way into her skull. Where the crisp air should feel refreshing as it entered her lungs. It burned. Her mouth felt like it was full of cottonballs.

In short, Liz felt like complete and utter crap.

It didn't help that the platform she was laying on was hitting numerous bumps, the wood creaking and groaning. Liz felt like she was hungover. But she knew better.

"...evelyan …. crest." A male was speaking idly from nearby. Though in her pained state, it was difficult to make much out.

"Yes."

The voices were coming from above her, she realized. But she couldn't seem to focus in and hear anything.

The young woman let out a groan, cracking her eyes open.

Bad idea.

Overcast skies were a blessing in disguise, because the sun itself would have caused more pain. Liz knew the familiar feeling of dehydration and it seemed her state had only worsened since passing out. Not to mention she didn't even know if these people were dangerous.

"She's awake." Someone spoke, voice so clear. Oh Gods, they aren't kidnappers are they? The last thing she remembered was the smell of burning corpses and the sound of sizzling flesh. Her brown eyes narrowed into pinpricks as her breathing elevated, heart threatening to beat it's way out of her chest.

They were going to kill her, weren't they? Were they the ones that killed those men? Did-

No. She had to keep herself together and think this through. Panicking would only serve to make things worse. What happened last time she panicked? The young woman slowed her breathing, thoughts whizzing a mile a minute. Trying, but failing, to sort through things.

A shadow appeared above her, a man. He was holding out an object to her, "Here, kid. Bet yer thirsty."

Was it drugged? She flinched but was in no position to deny help as he hefted her into a seated position. She leaned back against the wood siding of the cart. A cart? Liz's eyes flicked back as she observed the man closely. His beard was scraggly with braids in it, salt and pepper hair. Middle aged?

"Come on, take it." He sounded gruff as he shoved a canteen of some sort in front of her face. The woman shifted and held her hands up to grab it, only to freeze.

Why did her hands look so small? Liz stared down at her hands, feeling …. wrong. Why did it feel so wrong? She was more tan than usual, hands thinner. Smaller. Not right. This wasn't right.

Breath in. Out. In. In? Can't breathe. Can't- She was dizzy. Vision blurring-

"Hey, ya alright?" A big hand was placed on her shoulder, not good. She let out a cry and scrambled back. Or, she attempted to. She'd already been against a wood surface. The man seemed to get the hint and let go, turning his body away as if to appear less threatening. Her eyes darted around frantically. Out out. She needed out. Out of this place, this... this.

'I had died. Died and …. and then what? What happened to me?' Was the first coherent thought that flitted through her head, 'Where am I?'

It wasn't right.

"Oy!"

'Get away from me!' She shrieked inwardly, the blood draining from her face. The only noise that escaped was a hiss, eyes wild like a spooked animal. 'Away!'

The man held his hands up in the universal 'surrender' gesture before setting the canteen down and scooting back. "Alrigh' Alrigh', I'll be over here. Hm?"

She still felt small under his steely gaze as she slowly started to come out of her panicked state. It took minutes but it felt like hours. There were a few other people sitting on the front of the cart steering some horses. Others rode atop their own as they ambled on each side. Why was she in an old fashioned wooden cart? Why were these people decked out in medieval armor? Armor that ranged from shiny but worn steel to hardened leather chest pieces.

None of it made sense.

"Your father sent a search party out for ya, girlie. Yer lucky yer even alive." He spoke after she'd hesitantly grabbed the canteen. Liz refused to look up at the man. Her eyes zeroed in on the opening of the odd object, examining it critically. The woman sniffed it and took a sip, as if to test it.

It seemed okay, but she couldn't resist the urge to guzzle the whole thing. Water dribbled on the sides of her dirt caked face. The crisp clean taste greeted her parched tongue and it was like absolute heaven. Once she was finished, her nostrils flared and took in lungfuls of oxygen. As if she'd forgotten to breathe as she gulped all of the contents of the canteen. Liz looked up at the man, eyes narrowed through her matted brown locks.

Father? Her father wouldn't care one bit if she'd gotten kidnapped. Nonetheless her mother, for that matter. So Liz squinted suspiciously at him, lowering the canteen hesitantly. What were his intentions? Why would he lie so openly?

"Not much of a talker, is she?" A woman called from the front and chuckled. The trees around them slowly started to thin out as they rounded a bend in the road. Open fields came into view, bordered by high stone fences. A lone building was positioned in the middle of all the greenery. A mansion of some sort.

The young woman blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of everything. She'd heard of LARPing communities, before. Liz was not new to the idea, as she'd done something similar at one point in her life. She'd gotten into a D&D craze before she'd gotten swept away into college and work related events. But this was on a whole new level.

Her eyes slowly slid to the front of the cart, where two brown horses pulled them to their destination. One of the animals whinnied and tossed it's head, the cart shaking as they hit some bumps.

"What is this place?" Liz finally spoke up, finally feeling the need to get answers. She was almost tempted to demand where they were taking her. But that wouldn't do much good. She figured that, perhaps once she arrived at the nearest house, she could use a telephone.

Why did everything look different? Why did she feel different? The world itself seemed... odd. Like she was more sensitive to everything. So colorful. Vibrant. Almost blinding, still. Even after the haze of sleep slipped away like a receding fog in her mind.

Though she brushed that last thought off as the after-effects of her exhausted slumber.

Her question gained the attention of the man with salt and pepper hair, his hand scratched at his beard as he stared at her with a troubled look in his eyes. It was hard to gauge his expression, due to his facial hair. But his eyes said enough.

"The Trevelyan estate. How hard did ya hit yer head?" He asked and Liz's eyebrows knitted together. Hit her head? It would explain some of the confusion. Perhaps a concussion? But that still didn't explain why these people were dressed so oddly. Liz lifted her hand up to rub her forehead, but her fingers came into contact with cloth. Bandages?

Talking could only dig herself a deeper hole than she already was in, so she remained quiet after that. This estate, after all, might hold more answers for her. During her silence, she idly began to give herself a checkup. Running her hands along her legs for bumps and bruising, making sure she had full mobility of her limbs, etc.

It didn't take long until the cart entered through an ornate gate. The metal squealed as it shut behind them and the wooden cart came to a halt. The occupants began piling out of the contraption. The grumpy man with salt and pepper hair even tried to help her out of the cart, but she wasn't having any of it. Liz didn't even want to exit. She didn't know where they were. She didn't know these people.

So she just sat there in the cart and stared at the man as he waved his hand to help her out.

"Come on." Grumpy griped, wriggling his calloused fingers as he glared down at her. Yes, down. Even out of the cart he appeared bigger than her. What sorcery was this?

Before she had time to react, she was being yanked out of the cart by her arm. Liz let out a cry of protest, her body slid and she was set on the ground roughly. Grumpy's meaty hands likely left a bruise, with how roughly he'd grabbed her. The young woman stumbled but was steadied as the man refused to let her go.

"Was that really necessary?" She questioned after she'd ripped her arm out of his grip, rubbing the sore spot with a look of ire. Grumpy didn't look much different as he glared down at her, as if she were merely a brat.

"Listen here, you little twerp." He snapped, reaching out to grab her again. On account of the fact that Grumpy was so much larger than her and far more intimidating than his brethren, Liz panicked. What was he going to do?

She registered it as a threat. He was going to hurt her.

The young woman backpedaled and held up her hands in a defensive stance.

"Don't touch me!" The only response she got was an irritated growl as he took a menacing step forward. That's when everything lit up, red and orange hues roaring through the air and blinding her. The heat hit her face and caused her brown eyes to water. She squinted and heard the man yell in agony.

There was a flurry of action as his buddies took notice, along with an older couple who had been coming out of the mansion to greet the group.

"She's a mage!" Grumpy hissed accusingly, followed by the sound of singing metal. Like someone unsheathing a sword.

She screamed and covered her face, forcing the images out of her head. Fire fire. So much fire. Blistering, burning, bubbling under her skin. It was as if she was there, again. Pushing her sister out of the window, the heat on her back. What her skin felt like as it began to peel off of her body.

It played in front of her eyes like a horror film. Only she was forced to feel everything. Smell everything. Hear—oh god the screams. The screams-

Screaming? No, it was just her. She was the one screaming.

But Liz was frozen, the light finally gone. Died out. She'd just—Had she just? What?

Muffled voices registered and she felt her body being yanked around as she was pushed behind someone. Her mind registered safe. Safe.

"Father you cannot be serious!" A male's voice protested as her hearing popped back into place. Liz's whole body felt even more exhausted, thanks to her current situation. It wasn't real, right? She hadn't just—she didn't just burn a man's face off, right? That'd be ludicrous!

Her eyes snapped up, looking for the man to prove herself wrong. Unfortunately, she spotted Grumpy being tended to by one of his friends. His beard and eyebrows completely singed off, along with bits of his hair. No serious damage. But...

How?

"We have to send her off, Maxwell. Mages belong in the tower." An older man reasoned with the person shielding her. "Erin needs this. Allowing her to stay is a danger to herself and others."

Mage? He's got to be kidding, right? There was no such thing as mages!

The situation proved otherwise.

"You would send your own daughter off, just like that?" The man shielding her spoke in protest, obviously not liking the thought.

His daughter? Erin?

"It's for the best. Now take your sister to her room to pack."

"Yes, Father..." He turned around and looked down at Liz. She was still shaken, scared, surrounded by people she didn't know. This man, she didn't know him either. Maxwell, they'd addressed him. "Come on."

She didn't protest. Couldn't. Liz's legs were on autopilot as the young man held her hand and guided her into the large mansion and up some marble stairs. Their feet clicked on the hard surface.

"Who are you people?" Liz all but demanded, finally stopping her feet from moving. She was done. Done with this acting, this stupid game they were playing. That fire had to have been some sick joke, right? Perhaps it was all a dream.

Maxwell stopped, too. His black hair shifted as he tilted his head to the side to stare at the young woman incredulously. Almost as if she'd said possibly the most absurd thing ever.

"Who—Erin...are you..." His voice, though thick with a European accent, grew silent as he stared down at her worriedly. His eyes trailed down to her neck and chest area and his eyes narrowed. "Where is your necklace?"

"Necklace." Liz ignored his blatant misuse of name. Though she had not introduced herself, they obviously believed her to be this Erin person. The young woman dug into her pocket and pulled out the odd rock attached to a leather strip. "This thing? I was holding it when I awoke. But back to the matter at hand. Do you have a telephone that I could use?"

She tried to keep her tone as level as possible. Which, on normal days, never proved to be an issue. But something in the back of her head was screaming at her that everything was wrong. So so wrong. Nothing was the same. She wasn't where she thought she was.

Maxwell continued to stare down at her, even more confused than before. Though any suspicion on his face seemed to have disappeared after she showed him the rock. Especially when his gaze lifted and focused on her forehead. Or, more precisely, the wound she'd likely sustained from a fall.

"Master Trevelyan, is there a problem?" A maid asked as she skittered by, her tapered ears peeking out from underneath her cropped brown hair. Elf?

"No, Maria. I am fine. Could you go and get us some tea?"

"Yes, Master Trevelyan." She bowed and took off down the hallway. Liz was then toted off by the hand as Maxwell forcefully dragged her down the hallway and into a bedroom. This should have set off warning bells for her, but for some unknown reason she trusted him. She didn't get all jumpy with him. Why was that?

The man, who was just a boy really, began shoving articles of clothing into Liz's arms before turning and grabbing a bag from underneath the bed. He was in a hurry for something. She observed him. He couldn't have been much younger than she. Seeing as how she was in her early twenties.

"What's going on?" He didn't answer, only continuing on with his mission. When he did talk, however, he was only babbling on about getting her out of there as soon as possible. Something about a Sending Crystal. Which he'd pointed out was actually that rock in her pocket.

She sensed no ill-will from the young man. Though she'd known trustworthy faces to turn sour at the most opportune moment. People could turn on you in a blink of an eye. Just like that. Liz was not letting her guard down anytime soon. So she was left in silence in an adjoining bathroom. The woman changed into a simple grey tunic and some black pants. The material was rather heavy, keeping her warm.

"I appreciate the change of clothing, but..." She paused in the doorway to the bathroom and looked up at the young man with a frown. "Why will you not let me use the telephone? I want to go home."

"You are home." Maxwell seemed even more concerned as he tied the backpack shut, "What is a tell-eepon?" He butchered the pronunciation, a genuine look of confusion crossing his features. He didn't seem to be lying when he asked. The thought caused Liz's stomach to turn. What was going on?

Maxwell shook off the question and shoved a cloak of some sort into her arms, followed by the backpack.

"You must leave, now." He said very seriously as he turned to the door, which was shut. "The templars will be here soon to take you to the Circle Tower. I will distract them."

What was a Circle Tower? What did templars do? Why did everyone look so afraid when … when they'd figured out she was a mage? Though, she couldn't disagree. She was afraid, too. Afraid of herself. She could conjure fire. Fire. An impossibility. It shouldn't be possible. But it was. Wasn't it?

If she continued to think about it, her brain was going to glitch.

"Why are you allowing me to leave?" Liz asked a genuine question. She'd done nothing for him. He turned, his reddish-brown eyes shone with concern. She stared at the odd tattoo that seemed to encompass his right eye.

"No time to talk. Now." He began to rush her down the hallway again, the backpack heavy against her shoulders and knocking against her back. "The woods should provide ample coverage. Go East until you get to the Frostbacks. Get back to Ferelden and we'll figure something out. Find somewhere secluded. I will contact you through the Sending Crystal."

"But-" how? What is a Ferelden? The Frostbacks? What?

"I'll keep them busy for as long as I can. Run now, questions later. Now leave." She opened her mouth to speak again, but was cut off again. "Erin... please. I just got you back, but I can't... I can't let them take you there. Anywhere but there."

With the expression he was making, she couldn't. She couldn't. Something inside of her gave a twist, familiarity picking at the back of her head. She should know him. He knew her, but she didn't know him. Liz knew that she'd never met the young man before.

The situation proved otherwise.

Right. Right. Go East until she gets to a Frostback, right. Should be easy enough. Who was she kidding, she didn't even know where she was!

"I don't think-" She was, yet again, cut off. Only this time by an older man, who was fast walking down the corridor. His eyes were locked on their figures as they stood in front of a rather large ornate door that led to a back garden of some sort. Liz simply stared and watched as the young man turned from worried to frantic.

"Maxwell!" The older man called. Max paled and turned his head, making Liz think maybe she should run from this man that approached. He had a regal air about him as he strode forth and looked down at Max with a grim look upon his wizened features, "Son, what do you think you are doing?"

"I-It's not what it looks like?" Maxwell tried to defend. Liz simply stood beside him with a confused glint in her eyes, the backpack on her shoulders evidence enough of his attempt at sending her off. It didn't bode well for the young man.

"Young man, you know as well as I that abiding by the laws of this country during our stay..." He trailed off and snapped his attention on Liz, who was slowly inching toward the door. "Erin, please. You'll simply be put in one of their Circle towers until they can make the transfer."

"Father!"

"No, I will not hear it. I am just about done with your attitude, Maxwell." The man snapped, "Do you realize how many strings I'm going to have to pull to cover this up?"

The way he motioned toward Liz when he said 'this' seemed to cause the young man before her to snarl and put an arm in front of her. Was he protecting her? "To cover this up. That's all you care about! She's your daughter! My sister!"

With that, the young woman turned and bolted out the door. She heard a yelled 'Erin!' from Maxwell's father, but paid it no heed. Her feet dug into the cold ground as she caught sight of a treeline just on the other side of the garden. Said garden was massive, almost unnecessarily so.

Liz no longer felt the exhaustion that her body had felt minutes ago as adrenaline pumped through her, egging her on.

As the woman rounded the corner, she saw Grumpy in the process of jogging around the corner. His salt and pepper beard was now half singed off, his eyebrows missing. He looked absolutely livid. Evidently he'd heard the elder Trevelyan's yells for her to stop.

"Not this time." He snapped and was about to grab onto Liz as she ran toward him. Her momentum kept her going and she found it impossible to stop. Especially when she felt her foot catch on something, sending her tumbling to the ground. The man grunted and the young woman rolled passed him, then scrambled to stand up.

She could get away! She was about to-

Her face exploded in pain, her head hitting an unforgiving surface as she cried out. Liz felt her body get thrown back to the ground as Grumpy wrestled to keep her in place.

"L-Let me go!" Liz yelled, struggling as much as her body would let her. It was disconcerting to realize that she, for some reason, didn't have the strength that she knew she should have. But she chalked it up to exhaustion and dehydration as the cause. "I did not mean to hurt you. Just let me go!"

"Shut up, mage." He hissed, pushing her into the ground further. "Your father may be of noble blood. You're still just a monster."

The way he spoke, as if he'd seen and witnessed too much. Witnessed what mages were capable of. Liz pushed against the dirt and snow, trying but failing to free herself. When he yanked her into a standing position, she was nearly lifted off of the ground and pushed against the side of the house. Her nose hit the paneling and she could have sworn she heard a crack. Liz let out a pained whimper.

What were these people going to do with her? Magic was real? A mage? Were they crazy?!

"You get your hands off of my sister!" Maxwell's angry voice yelled from around the corner. She felt the pressure on her back lessen as the sound of bodies colliding erupted from just behind her. The young man was grappling and punching Grumpy, who looked more than willing to get into a scrap with the kid.

With swift ease only someone with combat experience had, he flipped the tables and tossed the kid aside. Maxwell stumbled and fell onto his back, his hands digging into the dirty snow as he tried to get back up. Yelling could be heard around the front of the mansion, followed by the sounds of heavy clanking and footsteps.

Liz felt frozen, like her legs couldn't work. Especially when about three heavily armored men came toward her with their swords brandished. Her hand was covering her nose, trying to stop the blood. Her face felt like it was on fire and her head pounded from the strike she'd endured.

"Get the cuffs." One of the men ordered, his voice muffled by the helmet on his head.

"Erin, run!"

"Shut up, ya git!" Grumpy struggled with Maxwell as he flailed about. The young man had a worried frown on his busted lip. He looked a little worse for the wear. His short black hair was disheveled and tanned face already sporting a few bruises.

Maybe the older man was right. If she was a mage, was she really a monster? She was...

She could hurt people with a simple thought. Liz shook her head, thinking of how absolutely ludicrous that even sounded. Mages? Magic? If she hadn't witnessed what she did moments ago, she would think that these people were crazy. Insane. Maybe making things up. But that all seemed unlikely. The loss of Grumpy's hair proved otherwise.

While she was deep in thought, she failed to realize that one of the armored men had clasped some odd looking cuffs over her wrists. She was ripped back into the present as the vibrancy seemed to dim. The world seemed almost further away, if that made any sense. The itch in the back of her mind was nearly non-existent.

"You can't use your magic with these on, so don't even think about it."

"What?" She asked, only to get yanked toward the front of the house. She was being detained? These people weren't even cops! Liz was handed off to another man, her body jerking as she tried to right herself. "You can't just cuff me for absolutely no reason. Who do you think you are?"

"You can call me Ser Bradford, kid. We're templars. Didn't your parents teach you these things?" The man asked from underneath the helmet, his hands guided her were a bit more gentle than the man behind her. The designs on his shiny armor, an upward facing sword, seemed a bit more worn than the others. He paused when they got to the cart, a woman stood in front of it. Her black hair was tied back and her brown eyes stared at the man holding Liz. "Knight-Captain?"

"I was on my way through. What's the status?" The woman stated, her voice a bit rougher than most women. Her eyes seemed to scan Liz's much smaller frame critically, probably taking in her haggard appearance.

"Ah, we were called over due to a young mage developing her abilities. She hurt one of the men in the process. No fatalities."

"That is fortunate." The woman nodded, her arms uncrossed, showing her breastplate was more intricate than that of the other three men. Liz blinked, but didn't put up any resistance as they loaded her into the cart.

"F-Fatalities? You think I'd try to kill that man? Are you insane?" Liz gritted out, trying to keep her temper under control.

"Not intentionally, no. When mages first develop their abilities, most of the time the outcome is quite unstable. Chaotic, even." The woman explained as she crawled into the cart with Liz. She stared down at her with an odd glint in her eye. Maybe pity? Or concern? The other men, the ones in the front with their helmets off, seemed almost taken aback at her actions. "That is where we come in. As a templar, it is our duty to protect the mages. Even if that means it is from themselves."

Liz didn't miss the undertone of that last sentence. The woman wanted to deny that any of this was even real. That it was all a dream. But the stinging sensation that followed as the Knight-Captain woman began wiping away the blood on her face was a reminder.

Her brown eyes met the woman's brown eyes and they stared at one another, expressions equally as blank. She was quite beautiful, with her black hair tied back in a braid of some sort.

"What will you do with me?" Liz swallowed, not liking the way the woman's face seemed to shift slightly. Deep down, Liz seemed to know what these people were going to do to her. She had a hard time even accepting these things were happening. But there she was, in the middle of it all.

And she had to be a mage, of all things. Liz had never liked mages. In any of the games she'd played. Even Dungeons and Dragons. There was always a price of some sort to pay in return for having such power. What was going to happen to her? Was she going to end up hurting people? Was that why they were taking her away?

Why did they call her Erin? Erin Trevelyan.

When the templar woman didn't answer, she simply flicked her gaze down to her hands. Her hands, which were much too small to be her own. Her hands, which showed a skin tone much darker than her own. Her hands... which looked too delicate to be hers. The callouses from years of work and jumping from job to job, gone. Even the scars that were supposed to be on her forearm were gone. Though she couldn't really complain about those.

What was going on?

It took a good part of the day before they even came upon any type of civilization. And when they did, she couldn't help but notice how people seemed to keep a generous distance from the cart that she was in. They looked at her, fear in their eyes.

That was when Liz knew how the people viewed mages in this world.

Fear. Hate. Anger, even. It was all painfully evident. There was always a reason for everything, she knew. As rational as she tried to remain, even after sitting all day on a hard wood bench. Liz's butt hurt. Fortunately she was given water and bread, in the very least.

Once they neared the ornate golden gates, the templar woman departed from the rest of them. They screeched and squealed as they opened, letting the cart into the city. The young mage still had no clue where this city was. But it was bustling with activity.

The Knight-Captain nodded as she turned and walked off toward the center of the city, some stalls and a crowd of people in the distance. Ser Bradford had followed suit, after speaking to the two men at the front. Apparently they had some things to do. It didn't go unnoticed by Liz just how differently the other templars acted after the woman, Evangeline, and Ser Bradford left. The two seemed to be the nicer of the bunch.

The cart approached a very tall white building. The clip clop of the hooves only seemed to make Liz's nerves even worse. Her legs wouldn't stay still and the giddy feeling in her gut definitely wasn't a good one.

Her bad feelings were confirmed once they stopped and the armor clad men came back to yank her out of the cart roughly. They didn't even speak, nor did they look at her.

"What the hell? I'm not even putting up any resistance." Liz snapped, trying but failing to pull her arm out of the man's bruising grip.

"Shut up." The man turned his icy glare at her, blue eyes threatening to pierce through her. She returned the glare, gritting her teeth and hissing like a wild animal. Something inside of her churned and her hair stood on end, a defensive response.

"Edward, Ser Bradford said-" Pop! A small crack of electricity caused the two men to flinch and let go. Almost like static. "Gah! How?!"

Liz felt the anger underneath threatening to burst forth. She'd been being very compliant and spoke very little. No back-talk. No snarky remarks. She thought she was doing very well for a person that didn't even know where she was. But their attitude toward her, on top of the way people seemed to stare at her, seemed to cinch it. That was it.

"I've been very patient. I don't know where I am. Hell, I don't even-" Liz was cut off from her explanation as the man used the hilt of his sword to hit the middle of her head. The last thing she saw before the world went black was the angered blue eyes of the templar named Edward.

Again, the young woman's vision would occasionally blink in and out. It was reminiscent of her last minutes on Earth. She remembered. The roar of the fire. The smoke causing her eyes to water.

Liz swore she opened her eyes to see the deadly red hue of fire, licking at the edges of her peripheral. The room was dark, then she'd blink and she'd be looking up at someone as they tried to get her to focus. A blank look on pale features, wiping at her face in languid motions.

A muffled voice, "She is..."

She'd blink, then black. Nothing.

What was going on? Was she still at her house, with the fire? Was she really in this odd world with mages and people in armor?

It was all confusing and only seemed to cause her head to hurt even more.

She opened her eyes again and the flames were hot. Hothothot. So hot. Her skin was bubbling, boiling, breaking away from her body. She screamed. Or, at least, she tried. But nothing would come out. Her body wouldn't move. Why wouldn't it—

And just like that, she blinked and it was gone. Liz gasped for air, taking in the oxygen like she had been deprived. Her brown eyes darted around the room frantically, taking in the surroundings.

A room. She was in a room? A light flickered somewhere out of her vision, the window at her left sent the sun pouring in. White curtains were pulled aside, allowing ample illumination. She focused on the white popcorn ceiling, trying to steady her breathing. She wasn't—wait, where was she? The last thing she remembered was … was.

The templars. The templar, Edward, had hit her with the hilt of his sword.

But wait. Liz blinked, feeling the haze of sleep leave her mind and clear her thoughts. Was she back on Earth? Was that all simply a dream?

The woman let out a sigh of relief and chuckled lightly. Of course it was. Mages weren't real.

Even so, she felt exhausted. Dirty, too. She sat up, feeling her abdominal muscles cry out in protest. "Grrrgh..." She grunted, letting her eyes drift around the room carefully. It was a rather plain room with a dresser and a closed cupboard.

An odd looking hospital room, for sure. But who was she to complain? Liz let her feet hit the cold white tiles in the room as she made her way over to the sink, a mirror placed in front of it. She fully intended to wash herself, but came to a screeching halt. She stood in front of the mirror and felt her knees wobble.

'What...what is this?' Her thoughts, even in her head, seemed loud and disbelieving. Liz stared into the mirror, but saw an unknown woman staring back. Or, rather, a young girl. The girl couldn't have been more than 17 years old, at most. Her tanned skin had freckles sprinkled everywhere, wide frightened brown eyes. Her ash brown hair, tumbling passed her shoulders and down her back, was a complete matted mess.

That wasn't Liz.

It wasn't.

Who was that?

Fear. It curled in her gut and caused her stomach to turn cold. The girl looked back at her with a similar expression, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Liz took a step back. So did the girl. Neither seemed to want to look away as she turned and clawed at the door. Out out. She needed out!

That wasn't right, it wasn't!

The young woman ripped the door open and jumped out into a hallway, which was mostly empty. Mostly, because she flew right into someone and caused them to fall over. Liz stumbled and let out a squeak of some sort, her gaze locking onto a young man on the ground. They looked at one another. She could have sworn he looked afraid, too. His blue eyes peeked out from underneath dirty blonde hair, locking onto her own. As if he expected her to attack him. The young man shifted, his dirty leather clothing illuminated by the sunlight from the stained glass windows in front of her.

"S-Sorry." Liz stuttered out, then promptly turned and ran. Her bare feet slapped against the ornate tiles, her breathing becoming ragged.

She wasn't back on Earth. She wasn't home. She was—she was.

She turned the corner and skidded to a halt. Liz saw a huge common area of some sort, tables set in neat rows and book shelves against the walls. People milled about, most wearing robes. Others were standing guard at the doors and by the windows, wearing armor. Templars.

She wasn't back on Earth.

Liz felt tears pool into her eyes. This wasn't right. It wasn't real!

"Apprentice, why are you out of bed? I had instructed you to remain in bed until further notice." A flat tone rang at her right, causing her to blink away the tears and look at the owner. She stared, seeing a woman with pale skin. Her red hair fell passed her shoulder in a single braid, revealing her pointed ears. Her eyes looked dead. Or, rather, devoid of emotion. Liz couldn't help but notice a brand in the middle of her forehead.

"This is-isn't real." She muttered in response.

"You suffered a concussion. It is in your best interest to remain in the medical wing until one of the healers return to treat you." She smiled, but it seemed almost wrong. It was so painfully obvious that the smile was fake. What was wrong with her?

"Are you okay?" Liz asked, tilting her head to the side as she observed the odd woman.

"I am well. Allow me escort you back to your room." When she reached out to grab Liz's arm, she didn't even flinch away like she normally would with people. Something about her made her think that she wouldn't try anything. Wouldn't hurt her.

When they got back to the infirmary, there was a man already there waiting. A healer of some sort, she was sure. He, too, appeared to be a mage. She thought as such due to the fact that she recognized his face from her moments of consciousness when they brought her here. Not to mention the, seemingly, customary robes he wore.

Imagine her surprise when she was seated and treated with magic, itself. His hands didn't even need to touch her as the feeling washed over her like a soothing waterfall. The warmth curled and swept across her skin, melting any pain she'd had away.

There were many questions. Many that she knew would remain unanswered. She thought perhaps she'd already overused her allotted amount of 'dumb questions' for the day, as it was. Anything she seemed to ask got an odd look out of whoever was around. That and the tall man had one of those 'don't mess with me' type of vibes. He was all business, no small talk. Nothing. He didn't even try to be friendly as he sent her on her way with the odd woman from before.

Speaking of the odd woman, she'd been lingering nearby so silently Liz didn't even notice her.

"I have been instructed to show you to your temporary quarters." She spoke as she walked down the hallway. Liz remained close, avoiding the eyes of any that seemed to look her way. "You are to be transported to another Circle in Ferelden. We were informed of your family's vacation and unfortunate circumstance."

"When will that be?"

"It is not up to me when they will allow you to be transferred."

The woman answered without even batting an eye. It was more like Liz was speaking to a computer, now that she thought of it.

"Ferelden, where is that?"

"East of the Frostback Mountains. You currently reside in Orlais in a city called Val Royeaux." She responded without a beat, likely thinking the young woman must be suffering some sort of memory loss. Her concussion might have been the best thing yet. Having to explain her lack of knowledge to these people could cause problems.

"How long will my transfer take?" She asked again, now knowing what a Frostback was. It was the name of a mountain range, she assumed. That helped a bit.

"Transfers generally take months, at most." A new voice spoke from the doorway behind them. Liz turned, seeing a woman leaning against the door frame. Her hair was a huge mass of blonde curls, framing her ivory face. She smirked, "Looks like you didn't go down without a fight, eh?"

She must have been referring to Liz's face.

"I suppose you could say that." Liz responded in a neutral tone, unsure how she was supposed to feel about this woman.

"Sheryl, at your service." She introduced in a sarcastic tone before turning to the elven woman at Liz's side, "You are dismissed, Helena."

The elven woman, Helena, bowed and exited the room at a lazy pace. Once she was gone, the redheaded human turned to look at Liz. She could have sworn she shivered.

"Don't they give you the creeps?"

"What? Elves?" Liz asked and tilted her head. A little racist, wasn't it? She didn't think so. But she could see where someone could form that opinion, considering how big their eyes seemed to be. Sheryl's eyebrows pinched, confusion in her green eyes. Her mouth opened as if she were about to speak, but was interrupted by some noise down the hallway.

The woman peered down the hallway and stared for a minute before her eyes filled with anger. She snapped her gaze back on Liz and spoke, "Get settled. I'll be back at the ass crack of dawn, so you better be ready. Apprentices have classes."

Before she could reply, the woman left Liz in silence as she blinked at the empty space in her door.

"Oh... okay then..." She mumbled to herself. The Sheryl woman must have been assigned to helping her, or something. Or perhaps she volunteered.

The young mage shut the door, the hinges squealing as it clicked shut. She turned and looked at the barren room, a bed in the far corner. It was more like a closet, really. Her backpack sat at the foot of the bed, waiting for her to sift through it. The window in the middle of the room was barred, but still let the evening sun filter through.

So this was it.

Mages had to be taught how to control their abilities, right? Maybe Circle Towers were like Harry Potter or something? At that thought, her gaze turned to the barred window and emptiness of the room. She remembered how the templars and regular people reacted to them.

Liz frowned. She doubted that. Especially the way Erin's brother Maxwell seemed to speak of them. The way he'd wanted her to run and not get caught by templars. He seemed genuinely afraid. She looked down at the rock that rested against her collarbone, a leather strip delicately tied around it.

It couldn't get any worse, could it?

Oh, how wrong she was.

It was there, she could feel it. She couldn't see it, she could hear it. She knew it was there, lurking in the shadows. It taunted her, coming closer closer cornering her. Crawling inside of her. It wanted her. What was it? Liz panted, running as fast as her little feet could take her. Why couldn't she run? She was running, but it wasn't fast enough! Run run!

This was familiar. A dream of a dream. A recurring dream from her childhood. Why now?

It was as if her feet were stuck in tar, legs moving in haste but the pace didn't match.

A deep chuckle boomed from the shadows of the room and just like that, she was on the ground in an empty room. No furniture, no windows, no door. Just dark. Dour, a desolate place. She thought maybe she went blind. Little Liz covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, heart pounding. Blood rushing into her ears.

"Go away!" She screamed, but no matter how hard she wished it would go away. No matter how hard she pressed on her ears, she still heard it's laughter. It fed off of her fear.

"Are you afraid?" It asked, smile in it's tone.

Afraid?

"Afraid."

'Am I afraid?'

"You're afraid."

Usually, at this point, the white shadow would appear and save her. Her friend. Her light. Warmth flooding the room, driving away the Fear. Push push. Away. But it was not. He wouldn't save her. Not this time. Because he was gone.

"What are you?" Liz choked, the emptiness in her chest growing. Gone gone.

The only answer she got was a deep chuckle.