And now there's a name…

And sorry for the late chapter! Exams have been keeping me busy. Also, I've just received my Aggie ring. Whoop!

Chapter 12

Hiding in the bathroom wasn't a particular brave or manly thing to do, but I thought it would be less traumatizing to completely flip a shit behind a locked door and not…and not wrapped in Anders' arms cuddling together like it was a rainy, Sunday morning. I braced my back against the wood of the door and noticed that my mad dash to safety was done in the nude. I smothered a pained groan with my hand that I slapped to my face as my mind desperately tried to come up with a reason for Anders being in my bed. So far I was coming up empty. Damn it, why was my mind so hazy? It shouldn't be so hard to remember. Why? Why was I fucking naked?

I went to the sink and turned the faucet on to splash water on my face. Nothing. Aggravated, I twisted the handle a few times but still no water. Really? This was going to happen to me today?

"Love, are you all right?" Anders called from the other side of the bathroom door. He jiggled the handle a bit, noticing it was locked. "Are you okay? Why's the door locked?"

"Uh," I uttered while I quickly flittered about looking for an excuse. My eyes landed on the shower. "I'm gonna take a shower. Yeah, so you've got to wait your turn," I explained as I nearly threw myself into the glass shower door. I fumbled with the door and twisted the glass knob until it was directly over scalding hot.

"Sharing's never been a problem for you before," came the low, seductive answer but his footsteps retreated from the door all the same.

It took a minute to remember how to breathe and how it was important if I wanted to continue on living. I also noticed that again there was no water. Did I forget to pay the water bill? Fruitlessly I kept turning the handle with more force than necessary but still no water. Well, now I didn't have an excuse to hide away in the bathroom. With a petulant scowl, I closed the shower door and took in a couple of deep breaths before flicking the lock on the bathroom door. Cracking it open, I stuck my head out and peered around the room. I even checked behind the door to make sure that the man wasn't playing a sick game of hide and seek. I was naked and I wasn't comfortable about that.

My room was laid simply out. A dresser, a bed, and a nightstand filled the room but all I cared about right now was the dresser which held the promise of clothes. The drawer was torn open nearly off its track with my excitement at the prospect of underwear. I crowed triumphantly as I unrolled a pair of simple dark blue boxers and happily slipped them on. After that I dug up an old t-shirt and my favorite pair of threadbare sweatpants. Now I was ready to confront anything, starting with the man whistling from my kitchen.

Anders. Anders was whistling his tone deaf self through an unrecognizable ditty in my apartment's kitchen. He better not burn anything down in there. The super was already upset with previous incidents. I took in a deep breath to steady myself and marched right out of the open door to the small kitchen. Immediately that breath was knocked completely out of me.

"Anders! Put on some damn clothes, man!" I yelled while throwing my arm across my eyes to hide the portrait of flawless, smooth flesh and intriguing patterns of freckles that I was curious to follow with my ton-. Whoa. Whoa there. Back up a bit. "Anders! Pants! Now!" I ordered.

I heard footsteps and chuckling but I didn't move my arm. A soft touch to my shoulder made me jump back a bit in surprise and my back collided with the wall.

"Ow," I muttered. Slightly calloused fingers drew idle shapes along my upper arm all the way down to my wrist where it was lightly gripped. Slowly, my arm was drawn away from my face, but I stubbornly kept my eyes closed.

Goosebumps formed on my skin and my mouth fell open slightly as heat drew closer to me, engulfing my body, as Anders leaned in towards my face. I expected a kiss to my lips, but instead soft pecks were placed on my closed eyelids. His gentle gesture made shivers crawl down my spine. Lips followed the arch of my nose then trailed across my cheekbone to perch for a moment at my ear. A kiss was dropped there before blazing the same path on the other side.

"Anders," I gasped.

Continuing, his lips captured mine and moved softly across them. It was slow, almost worshipful and I felt myself push back against him, my eyes still closed. The hand that loosely held my wrist to my side was released in favor of cupping the side of my face. The coarse hair of my stubble rasped lightly against his palm and I had the same urge to stroke the seemingly permanent five o'clock shadow on the mage's face. So I did.

My fingertips were light on his face, barely there at all, but it seemed to ignite something in Anders and he pushed harder against my lips and stroked along the outer edge of my mouth with his tongue. I opened my mouth and gripped the back of his neck to steady his head as I drew his tongue in with my own, fighting him for control. One of us moaned, I didn't know which, but I did know that Anders's other hand was creeping underneath my shirt to splay across my lower back. I arched against him from the touch on my sensitive skin, fingers tangled in the strands of his dark blonde hair that for once wasn't pulled back. Anders hissed against my lips as our bodies came together for that small instant and I suddenly realized that Anders was still very naked and very…interested in what we were doing.

I pulled back fast enough to knock my head against the wall. I managed to wiggle myself out of Anders's grasp and slide quickly away into the safety of the kitchen. Anders panted harshly and I managed to stare at the back of his head rather than roaming down to his other assets. Great, assets had the word 'ass' in it so now I had no choice but to look at his.

"I made breakfast."

…What? Why did that matter?

"It's on the counter. Go ahead and eat and I'll put on pants since it's so important to you."

Well, now I didn't care as much. My eyes followed the mage as he padded out of the room and my stomach grumbled its disagreement to my previous statement of not caring. Now I cared very much about breakfast, so I gave up trying to pick up my melted brain from the floor after…after that just happened and walked to where I smelled toast and eggs. My favorite. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, as they say, but for different reasons. It wasn't the nutritional value, it was the coffee. I really, really loved coffee.

I made a detour from the plate of fried eggs to the coffee machine. Empty, I noticed and I pouted a bit. I must have forgotten to set the automatic timer so I would have a fresh pot brewed in the morning. Sometimes, the smell of it was the only thing that got me up in the morning. Well, no worries, I could make one right now. The motions were automatic for me: open cupboard, pull out coffee filter, scoop grounds into filter, pour water into the specified slot, and turn on the machine. Turn on the machine. Turn. On. The. Machine.

"Why aren't you working? Why isn't anything working? Work, damn you!"

My finger jammed the poor power switch at least fifty times during my fit in a vain hope that it would magically start working. No such luck. This was fucking ridiculous. I hadn't had a crap cup of black coffee in ages and I wanted–needed-one now. No, wait. That wasn't right. It was my routine to have at least one cup every morning. I had one yesterday. I must have. I couldn't function otherwise. Right? I couldn't…quite remember.

"Fine," I muttered hatefully at the stupid, non-working machine. "Have it your way. I'll just have eggs instead."

Defeat shrouded me as I slumped to the plate of freshly fried eggs, over easy just the way I liked them, placed next to the stove. By habit, I flicked the knobs that controlled the gas stove to make sure that the burners were turned off. They weren't. Now that was just an accident waiting to happen.

I think my thoughts were finally being put back in order after being jumbled around earlier because a niggling question bit at the back of my mind. If the stove was on, why wasn't there a flame? My fingers, still on the knob, turned it slightly to hear the clicking noise of the lighter that was supposed to light the gas. Nothing. No flame. Don't do this at home kids, but I leaned down with my ear close to the burner to try and hear the soft whine of gas that should be coming up through the stove. Nothing.

I snarled. "No fucking water, no fucking electricity, and now no fucking gas. Did I just completely miss all the bills this month? This is ridiculous."

Well, at least I had eggs. I opened the drawer below the counter and picked up a fork, ready to dig in, and then I stopped. How did Anders cook when there was no gas?

And then a hundred questions at once hit me in a single rush that nearly sent me toppling. Why was Anders at my place? I never invited anyone back to where I slept, call it a paranoid thing, so why Anders? And when did I find the man attractive? Granted, he was a very fine-looking man: strong, passionate, kind, and a love for small creatures – not Fenris-, but when did I start looking at him in that way? Good God, I had a list? When did I have a list of his qualities? I was focused on saving Kirkwall, saving him, trying to put Thedas together with mage and Templar shaped pieces, so why-?

Kirkwall. I was in Kirkwall, not my downtown apartment with the crazy Czech lady next door with a kinky fondness for vanilla-scented candles and the superintendent with my picture on his dartboard along with the other pain-in-the-ass tenants. I'd never met Anders before. He didn't belong in the 21st century no matter how easily he fit in my bed with his hair gently stirred by the motions of the overhanging fan. He didn't fit in with the chrome appliances in the kitchen even when he swayed back and forth on the linoleum floors to a toneless tune.

I heard footsteps behind me and I turned with my fork still stuck in midair. Anders may not have fit in my time, but those denim jeans sure fit him enough to where it would practically be a crime if he removed them. He was also wearing a faded, over-washed AC/DC t-shirt of mine that was tight over his broader frame.

He cocked an eyebrow at my obvious look of longing with my mouth open and everything. "Did you really make me put on clothes just so you could take them off again?"

My mouth snapped shut then opened again with nervous babbling. "What? No. There are no plans involving removing clothes. You keep your clothes on and I'll keep mine on and we'll all be happy, you know, clothed."

Anders seemed to have other plans. He stalked forward with an intense gleam in his brown eyes that had me worried, but yet definitely intrigued.

"Are you sure?" He purred his question.

I dropped the fork on the counter when I put up my hands in a stay motion.

"Whoa, yes. Very sure, so you can back right on up. No, not keep on walking towards me. Hey!"

Anders backed me up, ignoring my hands on his chest that did nothing to deter him from trapping me with his arms on either side of me, against the countertop with the cold granite touching my lower back. His jean clad leg slipped in-between my legs, his thigh dangerously brushing my own. Anders was a tad bit taller than I was, broader than my own lean body, with muscles I didn't think one could form by being in the healing profession. They were tight, I could personally attest to that.

His head lowered towards my ear and whispered, "You don't actually want me to walk away. This is what you desire." Warm air dampened my skin and traveled to my neck that arched to the side on its own to bare more skin to the soft-talking mage. He chuckled. "See? Your body wants me and I can make it crave all sorts of delicious things. Love, I can do anything you want; you just have to tell me what that is. Let me into your body, your mind, your soul and I will be everything you could ever desire."

"Anything?"

"Oh yes, love," Anders purred.

I leaned in close enough to share breath and whispered exactly what I wanted him to be. "How about charred corpse?"

Anders sucked in a surprised breath. My hand that was placed directly over his heart suddenly sparked.

"Don't move," I ordered. "You may be a demon, but I'm still pretty sure your kind has a heart and I can make it stop with just a twitch of my finger so don't move."

"I don't understand, love. Why are you doing-?"

"Shut up. I've seen this trick before: different player, but same rules. Besides, I can see you." The mage-sight rune, hidden by the shirt on Anders's chest, was alight along with my lightning spell that I was more than ready to use on this demon I was tired of dealing with.

Instead of panicking, the demon, still disguised as Anders although I knew its true form, laughed.

"Oh well done, pet, well done indeed. Tell me, when did you figure out my little game, hmm? It's rare that my…playmates see past my illusions."

The demon twisted its disguised face into a patronizing sneer as if a bug managed to do a surprising trick but was still going to be squashed.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Really? This illusion is flimsy at best. I am very disappointed," I mocked.

It frowned at my mock displeasure at its attempts to fool me. I wasn't going to admit that it had me completely fooled for most of the morning, but I was…distracted. Reasonably so.

Anders shrugged. "This place is very strange to me. I have never seen trinkets such as these," he motioned idly at the microwave and sink. "But I can learn how this place works. I'll do it for you; keep you happy.

"And what makes you think I would help you?"

The demon hiding under Anders's skin chuckled. "Why, darling, I know your secret. I know you're not who your friends think you are: a mage and a man that doesn't even belong in this time. I can't imagine what they think will be worse. They've fought beside Garrett Hawke for years, think of him as a true friend, and what are you? I'll tell you, you're their friend's murderer."

"I didn't kill him," I protested angrily.

"Now, you and I both know that isn't quite true. You may wear his face, but you are not the same man. Oh, darling," the demon cooed and lifted Anders's hand to cup my cheek. "Anders would never forgive you if he knew that you stole his love away."

"Love? He doesn't love me. I don't even know why you used him to tempt me when-!"

Calloused fingers pressed against my lips to silence me. "Hush, dear. You forget that I can see into your mind, his too. Mortals hide such juicy secrets; it only makes temptation so much easier, especially if by just one look fantasies spring into his mind, fantasies I would gladly show you. Such lovely, delicious things I could show you, do to you. Give me a chance to please you."

I shook my head to rid of the demon's fingers and snapped. "And what? You're doing this out of the kindness of your heart? Please, there's no such thing as a free lunch and you're offering me an endless dinner buffet plus dessert. You want something."

Fingertips trailed along my cheek, gentle, but I wasn't fooled and kept my hands pressed tightly over the imposter's heart.

"Well, it wouldn't be a deal if you didn't give me something in return, but it is such a small thing, what I want."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sure."

"If you must know, all that I want is knowledge. I know you're from the future, hundreds of years out of time, and all I want is just a tiny bit."

"Here's my counteroffer: I kill you and we both just get on with our day. Well, just me; you'll be dead."

I forced my palm tighter over Anders's chest and pushed lightning into his chest. The illusion shattered as the demon, now in her true form as a lavender seductress, staggered back until her back hit the fridge (most likely not working if following the theme of the day). Around her bare chest was a ring of charred skin, but there was no obvious mark on her from a lightning bolt to the heart. Damn it, I hated the Fade. I was on her turf now. She snarled at her marred chest and hatefully snapped her fangs at me.

"What? I don't mind getting my hands dirty. You should know that. Oh, surprised?" I asked as her dark eyes widened a bit. "Yeah, I remember you, bitch. We've got a score to settle for you ruining my hand," I promised with a forming fireball.

"Fine. If I can't convince you in a dream, I'll destroy you in your nightmares!"

A waterfall of her mana washed over me and the floor disappeared from underneath my feet.

I fell.

A slap to my face awoke me instantly. I placed a hand over the sting on my cheek and I could feel tears gather in my eyes, but I held them back. I wouldn't cry. Not in front of him.

"You're a disgrace to this family's name. Everything we've given you, taught you, everything that your magic has blessed you with you'd throw away? I didn't raise my son to be an idiot."

"Go to hell, old man. You didn't raise me at all! You sent me to the Circle the second I showed signs of magic!"

Anthony Amell glared at his disobedient son and I glared right on back with blue eyes that was always passed down to the sons of the Amell line. I wasn't at all intimidated by unexpectedly being called away from my evening lessons into his study. He drew in a deep breath to beg for patience and rubbed at his greying temples to ward off a headache.

"I did it to protect you, son. My position as First Enchanter allowed me to watch over you, give you the protection than I cannot give you here at the manor."

"Bullshit! The only time we talked was the day you kicked me out of the Tower five years ago!"

I was so angry, so angry at the bastard who called himself my father.

The Amell patriarch snapped back. "You were practicing blood magic! Blood magic, Isaac! You know that it's forbidden. Too many mages have been led down that path and I refuse to have any sort of that taint at my school!"

"It's not blood magic!" I screamed, trying to get him to understand. "I've never even met a demon!"

He sighed and seemed to wave off his anger with a tired hand. "You will. You're fifteen, Isaac, and strong enough to go through your Harrowing; one of the youngest to ever do so. Demons are attracted to wild magic," he explained. "I can sense you from across the room and without a staff to harness that chaotic energy they'd find and kill you in an instant." Anthony turned away to gaze into the burning fireplace that warded off the chill of the coming winter. "And the Templars, Isaac, they can sense you just as well as I can. If they catch you, death is what'll happen if you're lucky. Most likely you'll be turned Tranquil."

"So I'll work a government job the rest of my life, then?" I asked cockily with my arms crossed over my chest.

"No, Isaac no," my father snapped impatiently and jabbed a finger in the air between us. "You can't turn everything into a joke when you're scared. A man faces his problems not push them aside with clever repartee."

My hands clenched my forearms to prevent me from doing something incredibly stupid, like hit him. If my father taught me one thing it was not to be stupid. I knew I would lose if we exploded into a magic fight. He had more experience, stamina, and more tricks up his sleeve than I did.

"I'm not scared," I hissed between gritted teeth.

Anthony Amell narrowed his eyes. "You should be. This is your final warning, Isaac. If you do not desist in this foolish pursuit of knowledge-," he began but I cut in angrily.

"You'll what? Send me to my room with no supper? Have me watched at all hours of the day to make sure I'm not slitting my wrists to dance naked under the moonlight? Ram books and lessons down my throat until I'm too tired to do anything but breathe? Sorry, Dad, all those punishments have been used up already. You'll have to find a new one."

I could feel my magic react strongly to my build-up of emotions and I tried to bite it back as the air in front of us crackled with the snap of electricity I was sure was leaking from the new rune I finished the day before. It needed to be tweaked a little to account for atmospheric pressures though in order for it to work. I also hadn't been able to create a bolt directly from my hand and right now only managed to establish a magnetic field with small discharges randomly within that field. Although, electrical fields enhanced around water so maybe if I connected part of my lightning rune with an ice rune I could control the direction. New ideas buzzed rapidly through my head and I desperately wished to get away to write them all down. I may have hated all the advanced tutoring, but it sure came in handy when I felt like misbehaving.

"You'll be disowned."

What? I blinked rapidly as I tried to comprehend what he just said. Disowned? Like, cut off from the family money?

"Disowned, Isaac," Anthony repeated to my dumbfounded expression. "You will be erased from the Amell line. You will have no inheritance, no resources, no connections, and no name. You will be as if you never existed to this family."

I couldn't quite catch my breath and I almost choked when I tried to protest.

"But I'm your only child! Your heir!"

He couldn't do that! I was the firstborn and an only child! If he cut me completely off from the family the Amell line, which extended for well over a thousand years, would end! It would be my fault our magically steeped knowledge would disappear with me! I couldn't-! He wouldn't-!

Anthony nodded stiffly as if the motion pained him. "Your mother had…complications during your birth but it only lowered her chance of having another child, not prevent it completely. You hold great value to this family, but not enough to allow you to consort with demons. So choose, Isaac. Make a choice between family and power and know that I can't help you if you choose the latter."

My vision was blacking out around the edges and I stopped my rapid-fire thinking for a moment to stop hyperventilating. I just couldn't quite catch my breath. Was the air thin in here or something? Wait, could I make it thinner? If I crafted a wind rune I could probably create some sort of vacuum or if I combined it with part of the fire rune I sketched between pages of my textbooks I could…

And I knew my answer. Even now, my mind couldn't stop crafting new ideas for this brand of magic I dove headfirst into. I would rather drown than be tethered to the shore. So I took a deep breath and stared my father right in the eyes with my own, I'm sure, showing the stubbornness I was certain ran deep within the Amell bloodline. I nodded to my father...no, Mr. Amell to cement my decision.

"You're leaving," Anthony realized, not at all surprised.

"Yeah, so don't expect any Christmas cards."

I turned around, my knees quaking but my back straight as I walked out of the room.

Anthony called out. "You won't last a week on your own. The Templars don't have mercy for our kind, even if they are children."

"I don't plan on getting caught," I muttered as my fingers touched the ancient, golden door handles.

The doors burst open and I had to quickly jump back to avoid getting hit by the flurry of skirts that ran into the room. Her features were pale, the preferred color of aristocracy, with long dark hair and green eyes which were wide open in panic. She was a beautiful woman, still in her prime. I hated her.

"Serah Hawke! Serah Hawke where are you?"

Why was my mother yelling for a strange man? Coraline Amell searched frantically for something, or someone, and tilted her head down at me. She was a tall woman and I had yet to hit my growth spurt, but that condescending scowl I had come to always expect when she spoke to me was absent and replaced with confusion.

"Hawke? Hawke, is that you?"

"What?" I blurted out. Was she sleepwalking? Too many prescription pills for pretend disorders A through Z finally take their toll?

My mother smiled, an expression I rarely saw on her face, and her eyes brightened. "Wow, you look so small. I never imagined you would look this way. I kind of pictured you an ogre-slayer even when you were crawling around on the floor," she quipped and peered around the study as if she'd never seen it before.

Again, what?

"You? What are you doing here? I thought I sent you away!" Anthony growled.

That was what surprised me the most. I may have hated my parents, but I could never hate the love that they held for one another. It was sickeningly the stuff of fairy tales and my father would never yell at his wife or even raise his voice towards the only woman, he claimed, he ever loved. I…I…something was wrong. I groaned as my head began to throb.

Coraline Amell awkwardly crossed her arms over her chest as if she wasn't used to it and looked down at her body.

"W-what? What's this?" She gasped and awkwardly plucked at the expensive Armani dress that formed light blue petals around her knees. "I'm a woman?"

Seriously, either she overdosed on her meds or something was very wrong here. You just don't forget your gender. Or at least I hoped not.

From against the bookshelves, my father picked up his ornate staff carved to look like three dragon heads springing from one branch and pointed it at his wife. "You're interfering," he said. "I don't need you anymore now that I have him." He jerked his head towards my frozen form.

My mother stamped her foot in irritation and almost fell when her ankle twisted from the high heels she was wearing. She quickly recovered and pointed at my father with her palm outstretched.

"No, I think it's you, demon, who has to leave. I can see the Fade now; see the stitches and seams that hold it together."

The Fade? We were in the Fade. Wait, I think I remember.

Anthony cackled and a wide smile deformed his face. "You think you have the power to banish me, boy?"

Coraline -no, that wasn't who she was- nodded.

"Yes."

A surge of mana permeated the air as my father's study seemed to cave in on itself. The Amell patriarch scowled furiously but was pulled into the rapidly disappearing scenery that vanished with a pop. Now this looked like the Fade I wandered into when I dreamt at night. I looked down at my hands as they glowed brightly and I was forced to close my eyes as that glow engulfed my entire body. Carefully, after the stars stopped twinkling in front of me, I looked back down at my hands to see that they were covered artistically with numerous runes instead of the three that were there when I was fifteen.

Quickly, I glanced at my mother who was swallowed by streams of light until they reformed a grinning, blonde half-elf who was more awkward teenager than holder of one of the most powerful magics in the world.

"I've never been a woman before," he cheekily said and I couldn't help but let a bark of laughter escape. This was just so fucking ridiculous.

I walked over to him and ruffled his hair affectionately that I hoped portrayed my thanks for getting me out of that demon's trap. A dream within a dream within a dream? Inception already had that madness cornered. I smirked at his annoyed expression as his hair escaped from that ridiculous braid of his. I stepped back, making sure to clench my hands behind me so that Feynriel wouldn't see the markings on them, and asked an important question.

"How'd you find me, kid?"

The teenager scoffed at the 'kid' comment and shrugged. "I don't know how I did it, I just did. I wanted to find you and the Fade just…led me here, I guess."

"You make it sound so easy," I said in amusement.

Again, Feynriel shrugged. "Well, it wasn't hard."

And that was what would lead Feynriel down a path I didn't think he was ready for. He tried so hard to control his power, but slipping into dreams, pretending to play super hero, would hurt him. Damn, he was so young, so…still a teenager who thought they knew everything. I knew all about that. I was a cocky asshole in my teens, probably still am according to some people, but age gave me the wisdom to look back and say 'yup, I was a dick'. Age doesn't actually give you wisdom, it just makes you see all the mistakes you made and gives you a chance to change them. Or something like that.

Feynriel, lucky bastard that he was, had grown tall very quickly for his age so I didn't need to kneel down to get his attention but it was awkward trying to be dramatic with me just standing there with my hands behind my back. I tried, though.

"Kid," I began and the mini-mage scoffed. "Kid," I repeated, "I'm gonna tell you something that I really want you to listen to and not just throw away later. It's important." Feynriel nodded, his attention solely focused on me. I coughed nervously at the obvious adoration. "Remember, with great power, comes great responsibility."

The kid looked confused. "What? Who told you that? What's that mean?"

"One of the wisest guys I know, Stan Lee, but what's important to understand is that even if you can do something it doesn't mean you have the right to do it. You need to master these powers of yours, Feynriel, they're too dangerous to leave you a neophyte. So be careful, young padawan."

"What?"

I sighed. Would anyone ever get my jokes? I'd never fit into this century.

I waved off my previous comment. "Never mind, just watch yourself out there, kid."

Feynriel nodded and smiled goofily. "I will, serah Hawke. Can…no, never mind."

"Whatcha need, kid?" I encouraged him to ask his question.

He looked a little nervous at first, switching from foot to foot, but he took a deep breath and asked his favor all at once.

"…What? You're gonna have to repeat that. Slower this time."

His fingers twisted together in nervousness. Finally, he spoke up.

"Well, can you tell my mother that I'm not coming back? That I'm leaving and I'll probably never see her again?"

I chuckled. "Scared to tell your mom?"

"Terrified."

"Sure, kid. If she kills me though I'll find you in the Fade and haunt your ass."

"Can people actually do that?"

"I'm sure gonna try."

This won a smile out of him. He nodded. "Thanks." Feynriel turned to the shifting, iridescent landscape to leave the Fade but stopped.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I've always been scared of my powers," he confessed. "But Anders, the Healer from the Undercity, told me that they were a gift I should be both proud of and humbled by."

I cocked my head in thought. "Do you think he was right?"

Mini-mage replied after a moment of thought. "Yes. He was right about everything else, so I think I should believe him."

"Everything?"

"Anders said you were an honorable man: proud, stubborn, but honorable. He said you would help me. He wasn't wrong."

Oh. Well, ummm...I didn't quite know what to say to that.

Stan Lee is an inspiration to us all.

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