"Life or Death?"
If Liz could retract her comment about Harry Potter, she would. It had been a stupid thought, anyway.
The next day she'd been rudely awoken by the woman, Sheryl. She was very upset when she realized that she'd slept in. And after some swift shuffling around and tying of her long brown hair into a low ponytail, she was off down the hallway before Sheryl could yell at her any more.
The older mage kind of reminded Liz of her sister, Elise. The name caused her chest to ache. Now every time she saw the fiery look in Sheryl's blue eyes she thought about her sister. They were alike, sure. But Sheryl seemed...angrier. Like she had something against the world.
In any case, the day was spent mostly in a class of some sort for apprentice mages. Most of which consisted of people much younger than she. The room was filled with tables and worn out chairs that scraped against the beautiful hardwood floors. What made her absolutely regret her Harry Potter comment, however, was just how scared everyone seemed to be. The mages, anyway.
Liz felt naïve, perhaps even ignorant for that inner comment the previous night.
The mages were so full of fear that even the way they walked just screamed how timid they were. Especially around the templars. Most of the time the men in ornate armor didn't even move or look at them. The mages would give them a wide berth as they exited rooms and went on with their day. Not that anyone could really tell if said templar was watching, anyway. Their helmets hid their expressions, which kind of added to the intimidation factor. Even Liz felt a little skittish.
They refused to look up at them. This only seemed to make Liz even more curious.
Sure the two she'd met were assholes, but they couldn't all be like that right? Evangeline and Ser Bradford were testament to that.
Her first struggle of the day, however, was using the bathroom. When she'd asked where the bathroom was, she only got an odd stare. To which she had bluntly told them she needed to take a shit. Scrunched noses and hesitant explanations later, she was lead back to her room where said person pointed at a bucket.
She groaned aloud, hearing the door shut from behind her as the person left. She hadn't even gotten his name.
It felt weird, having to crouch over it. Part of her tried to protest and make it weird by telling her that this wasn't even her body she was using. So in all technicality she was likely fondling some underage girl.
'Gross. Gross, don't even think of it like that. What in God's name is wrong with you, Liz?' She scolded herself as she finished her business.
The young woman wiped her hands furiously against her scratchy pants, having not changed out of the ones Maxwell had given her. Even though she'd been granted some robes from Helena. Her face scrunched in disgust as she continued to wipe, wishing she had soap and water to wash her hands after doing such an unsanitary act.
Her thoughts, again, were dashed away as she heard whimpers from the other side of a door as she made her way to the mess hall. (Silently hoping they had wash basins there) Liz's eyebrows furrowed as she pushed on the door without a second thought. The heavy wood creaked to reveal two dark figures as she peeked in. The curtains were drawn and it looked as though they were in a storage room of some sort.
"...how to show me respect!" A man in heavy armor spoke in an aggressive tone as he grabbed a young mage's hair. The mage's face let out a resounding 'crack!' as it connected with the armored man's knee. Liz's eyes widened. Especially when the mage made no move to retaliate.
It took her a moment to realize that the man in armor was, in fact, a templar. Usually the ones in the tower wore helmets. This one, however, did not.
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" She blurted and pushed the door open angrily. She glared at the man as he let the boy go, the sound of the door hitting the wall echoed through the quiet room. The templar turned and looked at Liz, hate so evident in his eyes it would have made her shiver had she not been so livid. "He's not even fighting back."
"Leave." The boy on the ground spoke weakly, blood leaking from his mouth. He didn't even move to look up. Even in the dim room she could see the bruises forming on his face. The kid had to have been in his teens. Younger than the body she resided in, for sure.
"Do you want to take his place?" The larger man asked mockingly.
"I am barely half your size." She shot back, a snarl forming on her face. "Get off your high horse you-"
"Hey hey hey, what do you think you're doing here Erin?" A familiar voice interrupted from the hallway. Sheryl grabbed Liz's arm and pulled her out of the room. Once the door was shut, she snapped her attention on the young mage. "Really. Do you want to get your ass kicked?"
"What? Aren't you going to do something about that? Just let some kid get beat up? He wasn't even defending himself." Liz argued and tried to push passed the older woman. Sheryl simply put herself in the way and shook her head.
"I know. But I'll find a way to deal with it, don't bother." Her expression seemed to darken, the anger roiling in her gaze. "As much as I want to sock him in the face, there is a way to go about it. At least that way we can come out on top."
"And how's that?"
"Senior Enchanter Adrian will take care of it, I'm sure." Sheryl chuckled as they walked down the hallway. Liz felt irritation rise in her gut.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing. It's just …. usually after the first beating they get all timid. Not you, though."
"And that's amusing to you?"
"No. It's just, people like us are hard to come by I guess." She shrugged and stopped just outside of the library. "Don't let that fire burn out, just yet. Now shoo." She waved her off and pointed at the library, where she had been instructed to go after lunch.
Liz sighed and realized she'd missed her opportunity to eat. Great.
The library was just as grand as the rest of the White Spire. Liz wondered why anyone would need their bookshelves to be so ornate. Or why there would need to even be a chandelier in the library. The window on the far wall sent beams of tinted sunlight into the room, leaving the apprentices with a soft glow above their heads as they listened to an older man lecture.
The people in this country certainly seemed to like their lavish things. What was the country's name, again? She pondered this as she crept into the room.
It seemed it was another lecture about the practices of magic and something about The Fade. Liz quietly made her way to a seat at the far back, trying not to cause any undue attention. Only a few peered over at her and the instructor didn't halt in his speech.
It was odd, the way things worked in this world. She was from a place where magic was fantasy. Something from a book or a game. Here, it was reality. And it was dangerous. Mages were always in danger of becoming possessed by a demon, because of their connection to this Fade place.
The Fade, as she's learned thus far, is some sort of metaphysical realm connected to their world. Separated by something called the Veil. It was spoken of as some mysterious and awful place. The place of nightmares. Yet, it was also the place where everyone went when they slept. Where people had their dreams. Not to mention the place that magic users drew their magic from. Which lead her to believe was where demons must reside. The Fade.
It was baffling, to Liz.
About an hour in, the door to her far left creaked and opened. This was followed by the hesitant pitter patter of light footsteps. The young boy from earlier walked into the library, his wounds bandaged and covered. Mostly. Blood could still be seen seeping through the gauze and one of his eyes were swollen shut.
Liz clenched her hands on the side of the table. She just needed to breathe. Breathe. Getting worked up over something like that would do her no good. The Senior Enchanter would see that the man get punished for his wrongdoings, right?
But honestly, what kind of place was this? Where the authority figures so obviously abused their power? Where they made the mages so afraid to even look at them?! What kind of world was this?
'I need to get out of here.' Liz thought to herself, realizing that staying might only lead to her untimely demise. Sure, the Trevelyans promised to transfer her to... Fere...Ferelden? A Ferelden Circle. But she didn't even know what that meant!
For all she knew, the templars in that country were just as bullshit as the ones in this country. It was absolutely ridiculous.
She was jolted out of her thoughts when a heavy thud hit the table. A hand was placed, fingers splayed as a body loomed over her. Some of the apprentices around her seemed to scoot away, but none made a move to speak up. Liz turned her gaze from the hand to the owner of said hand. The templar that had been abusing the boy stared down at her with a sneer.
"What do you want?" She asked, sneering right back. In the back of her head she was reminding herself to keep her mouth shut. Just stay out of it. So the only solution the young woman had was to pretend that she saw nothing.
"I think we need to have a little talk, that's what."
"I'm a little busy." She replied and turned her gaze to the book in front of her. She pretended to scan the words splayed across the paper. None of which, by the way, she even understood. Liz assumed maybe they accidentally gave her a book in a different language. She felt her chest constrict in irritation as the man shoved the book off of the desk. It fell to the ground with a 'thump!'
That's when everything got quiet. Almost deathly quiet.
The apprentices, even the teacher was staring now. The class effectively came to a screeching halt. The daggers of sunlight pierced across the templar's face, which was red with anger. Indignation of some sort, as well.
"Rude, don't you think? You interrupted the lecture." Liz spoke in forced neutrality, hoping that maybe he'd back off until later when they were alone. She turned and made eye contact with the elderly man at the front who had been teaching the small class. His eyes behind his glasses widened and Liz felt her face get grabbed roughly. She was forced to look at the man.
The young woman winced and she could have sworn her jaw was already bruising. Before the man could even speak up, she'd already responded in defense. Liz's teeth chomped down on his hand, breaking right through his thin gloves. He cried out and let go, taking a step back. Liz scrambled out of her chair, standing on the opposite side of the table as she eyed the man warily.
"You little-!" He screamed and flicked his wrist.
Perhaps she shouldn't have done that.
"Uhh... sorry?"
"A bit late fer that." He gritted out and took a step forward, his much bigger body a menacing sight. Especially since he was twice her size. Liz forgot just how small she was and she felt her knees go weak. Only for adrenaline to kick in as he came around the table. Gasps could be heard around her as she scooted to the side, keeping him on the opposite end of the table.
"I shouldn't have bit you, I'm sorry!" She blurted, voice cracking as she maneuvered back and forth. Her heart threatening to beat it's way out of her chest as her mind screamed at her to just run. Run! Eventually the man simply growled and tipped the table in his anger, lunging toward her and grabbing the scruff of her borrowed tunic. Liz let out a squeak and began to squirm, her body being lifted off of the ground.
At this point, she could see the occupants of the room standing up and away from the scuffle. Or was it really a scuffle when she wasn't even fighting back?
The templar lifted her so that her face was in his. His breath was hot on her face as he opened his mouth to speak. But he didn't get to. Liz couldn't help the scrunch of her nose at the smell of his rancid breath. Did these people ever brush their teeth?
Yells could be heard from the hallway, as if calling for help. She grabbed the front of his breastplate and yanked herself in his direction, driving the crown of her head into his face. She heard a 'crack!', then a grunt.
He let go of her and she dropped onto her butt. Liz scrambled backward, almost crab walking in her vain attempt at getting away. She knew she was fucked when the man pulled his hand away to reveal his crooked and bloody nose.
The blood drained from her face.
'Aw, crap.' Was her last coherent thought as he dove at her. The woman could feel her head as it bounced off of the unforgiving tile. Stars burst forth into her vision. She flailed and scratched blindly, ears ringing. She felt her nails dig into something soft a few times, but mostly it was her getting yanked around and hit. Liz wasn't even sure if it was just him, at that point. She couldn't even see straight.
Her panic only seemed to intensify when he pinned her to the ground. All of the air was forced out of her mouth, leaving her unable to breathe. The woman could feel the cold tile against her back. She could only see him. The way he sneered down at her through his bloody crooked nose.
Liz tried to push him off, her hands pressed against his cold metal breastplate. But it was in vain. Erin's body was weak. Frail.
What was he going to do? Was he going to hurt her? Attack her? When his hand went toward his belt where his sword was, all she could think—'He is going to kill me.'
She could have sworn she heard him say something about taking her to 'The Pit' or something, but her mind felt foggy and staticy. Her vision tunneled and, reflexively, she felt something from within welling up. Like a dam threatening to burst. She clenched his breastplate, knuckles turning white.
The Pit. The Pit? Was that where they disposed of mage bodies? Was that where—
Him or her? Her or him? Kill or be killed. The panic and fear of dying seemed to trigger something inside of her. An instinct, of some sort. Liz felt it pooling in her gut. It spread out and made her feel warm warm. Warm. Hot. Hot. Why was it so hot? Liz's eyes dilated into pinpricks. She could have sworn her heart stuttered as a rush of energy jolted through her system. It reminded her of adrenaline, but it pulsed hot through her veins.
The templar above her looked absolutely panicked. Terrified, even. He knew. She didn't. But he did.
The air around them lit up, everything slowing to a crawl. Flames curled up her arms, licking and singing the fine hairs on her arms. Climbing climbing, until they reached her hands. Her fingertips.
Liz screamed.
"Let go of me!"
Everything exploded. Blinding. Impossible to see. Red and orange death danced before her eyes, licking at her face. The templar didn't even scream, but she could hear the loud 'thump!' that hit the wall across from her. The woman continued to scream, the raging inferno around her only seemed to fuel her fear and panic. Her emotions only fed the fire further.
It was like she was back on Earth again. She was back home. Elise was screaming for help, her bright green eyes watery as the smoke choked her. Elise. Elise. The fire took everything. Her home. Her life. Her sister. Then she was back in the Circle Tower, the bookshelves from the library already set aflame as the burning death ate everything in it's path.
She couldn't breathe. Why couldn't she breathe? She couldn't breathe!
"W-W-Why?" The young woman choked out. Liz looked down at her hands, trying to will the fire away. Go away go away. "Go away!"
It wanted to take her, again.
She yelled and covered her ears, squeezing her eyes shut.
No. No nonono.
'Just...let...'
A chuckle, far far away, filtered through her ears. It reminded her so much of the thing in her dreams, her stomach dropped. Liz heard her heartbeat, the sound of the roaring flames settling to a faint crackle.
'let me...' A voice, not her own, pushed against her. She could feel it. 'I … help. Let me in.'
Liz hissed and shook her head, willing the voice away. She learned from one of the classes about demons. It was a demon, right? A demon. Don't listen to it. Ignore it. She instead focused on what was around her. What was real.
Focus. Focus. This is real. 'I am real.'
That's when the smoke and burnt flesh wafted through her nostrils, she knew people had died. They were dead. Oh God, they were dead. Liz sat up and let out a weak cry. The teacher, too. He was laying face down ten feet away, as if he had been trying to run for the door.
The other apprentices...
Liz felt sick. The roaring inferno had trickled back to a faint crackle. There were still things aflame, sure. But...She could have sworn she was still on fire—no she was on fire. She screamed even louder as she rolled around on the soot covered ground. Her arms got the brunt of it. She felt her skin bubbling, sending her mind reeling back to her experience on Earth. The young woman was about to let out another scream as she writhed, laying in a fetal position.
The young mage felt like she was wrestling with herself. It was all in her head. In her head. She didn't want to go back to Earth. Back to... no. Not now. That wasn't real. This was real. Right?
"What's going on? What's going on?" A voice spoke, different than before, but she knew it had to have been in her head. Again. Was it the demon? No—right—different.
The voice seemed to break her panic, if only for a second. But it was enough to get her to breathe. Sweet sweet oxygen. Breathe and concentrate. Or, at least, try to. The only sound was the crackle of fire and death around her and the ragged sound of her labored breathing.
"Fire. Fire." Her voice wobbled, stomach feeling sick at the sight. She couldn't even think straight. The words came out in a chant. A terrified, sobbing, chant.
"Fire?"
"Explosion. Fire." She whimpered, "Please no. Fire. B-Burns."
A pause.
"Run. Are they distracted?" She thought she heard, but only continued to repeat herself. The voice got louder, this time. More frantic, "Erin! Get up and RUN!"
"R-Run?"
"Run!"
Her body moved, as if on a command not her own. Her mind still felt fuzzy and her limbs made of lead, but she turned toward the broken remains of the window.
The windows were completely missing, now. One step. Two step. Her movements almost felt mechanical. Forced. Glass cut into her palms as she scrambled out through the window and fell into the bushes below. Liz heaved, her body shaking from the shock it was likely about to go into. 'Not here. No. Not here, please.'
Her body was cold and sweaty. The way the leaves brushed against her burns kept her anchored. Her arms still felt like they were on fire. She could still feel the fire. Her vision swayed and she wanted to just lay down and sleep, but she forced her eyes open.
Then voices. From above. Heavy metal footsteps and gasps of horror. "What in Andraste's name happened here?"
"Maker..."
"Someone call the healer!"
"No use...they're...they-"
Liz froze, her ears tuning in on the frenzied calls from above. It was enough to make her forget about the foul taste of vomit in her mouth. Enough to get her to freeze and stop. Before they could investigate the broken windows, she crawled through the hedges.
"I don't know, ser. I-I heard an explosion...screaming...and..." The voice faded as she turned a corner. Sure enough, any of the guards that had been posted must have rushed in to find out the commotion.
It had, afterall, been a rather large explosion.
What now?
It didn't take long, but much to her luck she'd been able to find a hay cart by the stables. Liz climbed into the thing and hid inside. It was scratchy, but she refused to move. Especially when the cart wobbled as someone got into the driver's seat at the front. The movement broke her out of her dazed state. How long had she been laying there?
"Henry, get yer arse in gear!"
"Aye!" Henry, presumably, yelled in response. Footsteps followed, then something was shoved into the pile of hay. 'THUNK!' Liz held in her screech, only to gasp. Her cheek burned, the cool press of metal firm against her cheek. Her eyes were wide in horror as she slowly turned to look at the pitchfork that almost impaled her head.
That had been too close.
First she was already suffering from some pretty serious burns. And now she'd almost gotten her face skewered by a pitchfork. Today was a pretty hectic day. Hectic being a vast understatement.
The young woman steadied her breathing as the cart began to shake and rock back and forth. The horse's hooves clopped against the stone path. Soon enough, she heard some gates open and the sounds of a crowd in the distance.
"Erin? Erin, are you still there?" A whispered voice asked. The same one from earlier. It was familiar. Painfully so.
"Yes." She replied quietly, still laying on her back. Her muscles ached and she didn't even want to move, but she knew she had to if she wanted to actually escape and get anywhere.
"Did you get out? Where are you?"
"A cart. We left the Tower."
"They said they took you to Val Royeaux. I have a friend there. Go to her."
"Who?"
"Her name is Auri and she's an apothecary. She lives just off of 5th street in unit 306. Stay out of sight." He spoke in a soft and low tone, as if he were trying to keep quiet too. That's when Liz slowly began to realize the voice had been coming from the rock around her neck. The Sending Crystal, as it had been called.
She had been talking to Maxwell this whole time. Erin's brother, as she'd come to believe. Somehow, some way, she'd evidently activated the thing during her frenzy. The woman blinked back tears as she pushed the incident in the back of her mind. 'Later. Not now. Later.'
When Liz peeked her head out of the pile of hay, the ground slowly passed by from below. No one seemed to notice the small brown speck that made itself known in the mound of hay. Everyone too busy milling about.
'Do I just … jump out?' She wondered to herself, gripping the back of the cart anxiously. Her emotions roiled around in her stomach, causing her to feel nauseous. She still didn't feel too great after...after...
She had to get out of the cart if she planned on actually leaving. From what she'd heard, they were simply going to a stable across town to drop some of the excess hay off. She'd be discovered if she didn't jump. Discovered and killed, more like. She was the one that blew up...blew up...
That killed—
She shook her head.
After much inner debate, she was able to hop out of the cart with a fluff of hay and straw. The substance stuck out of her hair and was all over in her clothing. Liz stumbled her way into an alleyway and quickly took cover. She huffed and wheezed, trying to push the pain out of her mind.
It didn't seem like it was working. As she focused on the street signs and kept trying to bob in and out of alleyways, she could feel herself getting weaker. Liz's frail body in this world couldn't seem to take it. But, to be fair, she doubted she could take this kind of stress even in her old body.
The young mage stumbled up to a house, trying to remember if it had been 305 or 306 he'd said to go into. That is, until she decided to go with the latter. She stumbled up to the door and tried to knock at the door. The only thing she was able to do was pat at it weakly, before her breaths got shallow and weak. The pain catching up to her body, causing her vision to waver.
She looked down at her arms as her legs gave out. Her hands were bloody from the glass. Gashes openly bled onto the stone below. But it was her forearms that had gotten the worst of it. Burns marred all the way up to the crease in her elbows.
Liz's eyes rolled back and her body fell forward against the door with a loud,
'THUMP!'
All she heard before she lost consciousness was the sound of approaching footsteps behind the door.
Liz could feel the world coming back to her as she regained consciousness. Her mind felt foggy and the pain in her arms was somehow dulled. She licked her chapped lips and opened her eyes, squinting at the dim light of the candle at her right. She was laying in a soft bed, a blanket draped over her small form.
Voices filtered into the room that she lay in, the door cracked. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but it sounded like a woman and a man. They were worried. That was all she gathered from it.
Her brown eyes slipped from the wood paneled ceiling and toward said door.
"—hasn't even showed signs of waking up!" The woman, presumably Auri, had argued in a swift and stern tone. Or, she hoped it was Auri. For all she knew it was a woman arguing with templars. Her muscles tensed a little, but then she heard a familiar voice.
"She can't stay in Val Royeux long. The templars are probably looking for her right this moment. She needs to leave today." Maxwell's voice answered, footsteps moving closer to the door. She relaxed, if only a little.
"Max-" She tried to argue, her shadow filtering through the crack in the door.
"I am begging you." Maxwell's voice cracked, fear evident in his tone.
The woman outside of the door moved away, sighing. The rest of their conversation became too quiet to hear.
'So, am I safe?' Liz wondered to herself, laying there in that bed. The whole situation set her whole body on edge. She didn't even know any of these people. Part of her felt like perhaps she was taking advantage of their kindness. Of her situation and the fact that they seemed to think she was this … Erin Trevelyan.
And she was, wasn't she?
Or, at least in body. But not mind.
The hairs on her arms rose at the memory of what she looked like in the mirror. Her hands came up, the action causing pain, and she stared at the small bandaged hands of the girl she currently resided in.
'Erin…' Liz clenched Erin's hands, the feeling … not right. Hands, much too small. Skin, much too tan. Too freckled. Well, it had once been unblemished. No scars. But she doubted after her wounds healed that would be the case any longer. 'I'm sorry, Erin.'
The overwhelming guilt. Tears filled the young woman's eyes. 'I'm sorry.'
Minutes later, she returned. The door shut lightly behind her as she entered the bedroom. Liz looked over at the young woman next to the door, her hands falling at her sides.
"You are conscious." Auri's lilting tone filtered into the room as she walked toward the woman. She had a stone in her hand. The same thing Liz had been wearing and using to contact Maxwell. The woman stopped at the side of the bed and set the Sending Crystal next to her, "You are fortunate to have come here when you did. Burns like those are quite easy to get infected."
And infection in this world likely meant death. Or amputation. Then death. Usually death.
"I see.." She wriggled her fingers and the burns on her arms seemed soothed, somehow. Probably some sort of ointment underneath the bandages on her arms.
The woman blinked and observed Liz, who still lay in bed on her back. They both seemed to take one another in. Though for obviously different reasons. Auri appeared as though she were reliving memories, a faint smile forming on her delicate features. Her black hair was tied into a loose bun as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
"I remember when you were just a little girl. Now you're all grown up." She sighed and looked toward the window, which was dark. The only illumination being from the moon and the candles lit in the room. "Get some rest."
With that, she left the room. The door shut with a soft 'click'.
This Auri girl was a family friend, it seemed. Maxwell knew her. Erin should know her, right? It would seem odd to act as if she didn't know this woman when she was supposed to know her. Liz couldn't bring herself to let her guard down, however.
For the first time in Liz's life, she wondered if she would die tomorrow.
Liz sat at the dining table with her sister and her cousin, all catching up and sharing stories. A memory of a time. The smell of her aunt's cookies filled the air, her fingers curling around the hot mug of coffee.
Her cousin Brad had gotten a girlfriend and was nervous about getting her something for Valentine's Day. Unfortunately, he'd slipped on the ice and sent the flowers and chocolates scattering across the front lawn.
It was quite the story to hear.
"Well that's one way to … break the ice." Elise giggled and poked fun at him, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Liz let out a bark of laughter at Brad's embarrassed face as they sat around the table with hot chocolate.
"Elise..."
"You fell pretty hard for her, didn't you?" She continued and Liz lost it, her facial muscles hurting from the stupid puns. Her darn puns.
Then it was like everything paused, stuttered – stopped. Shrouded in silence, it was almost deafening. Elise's features slowly began to melt off, falling onto the table in front of her steaming cup of hot cocoa. Her eyes darkened and before Liz knew it, their bodies were blackened and falling away like dust in the wind. Floating and flittering, never to be seen again.
That's right. She can't see them ever again, can she? The smile on Liz's face died, her eyes losing it's luster.
"You couldn't save her. Poor poor thing." A raspy voice cooed in her ear, causing the hairs on her neck to rise. Liz whipped around, but there was nothing. Just nothing. Rocks floated in the distance and the air smelled of sulfur. She waved the thick fog away from her face.
She was no longer sitting in her aunt's house, but standing in the middle of a barren wasteland.
"Who are you?" She meant for it to come out as a demand, but it sounded more like a plea. The ringing in her ears intensified, causing her vision to blur.
"Come here, ****. Soon ... will be-" The scratchy voice faded into the background as she clutched her head painfully, willing it away. Go away, go away!
Liz sat up—eyes wide, and she was greeted with the sound of labored breathing. Ragged, roiling in her stomach.
Dying wasn't the most pleasant feeling in the world, she thought as she tried to quell her hammering heart. It slammed against her ribcage relentlessly. The darkened ceiling the only thing greeting her so late at night. The candles snuffed out. Clean bandages. House? Auri. Right. She remembered where she was.
Adrenaline in her veins, tingling in her fingers and toes. It was all a reminder that she was still alive. Alive and well. Albeit not in her own body.
Dying hurt. Dying was traumatizing. The only thing she did know for certain, was that she didn't want it to ever happen again.
Note to self: don't die. Again.
As a mage in this world, I must be ever vigilant. For I risk the possibility of possession. I am a risk to others. I am a risk to myself. I am not to be trusted. I am dangerous.
Reviews
HairyCouchPizza-Thank you! I'd like to think I've gotten better since my last story. Seeing as how that one was mainly for learning characterization and ... well, to be honest it was just made up on the fly. Hopefully this one turns out much better than the last. But that has yet to be seen. And I don't think anyone would truly be happy being in her position. For being 'reincarnated' she kind of got the crap end the of stick, yeah?