Standing in the large training room, Ilaria mused over her discussion with Irving the night before. After informing her of the stipulations on her remaining within the Tower she'd been sent off to rest. Sleeping in a soft bed for the first time in weeks left her looking forward to the day of testing. It had been months since she had done anything with her magic and she had the sensation of being cramped. It was as if her magical abilities needed to be stretched like her legs would need to be had she kept them curled beneath her for too long.

"Let us begin with your abilities in Primal and Elemental magic," Irving began. "Are you familiar with the manipulation of all the elements?"

Ilaria's fingers tingled with anticipation. Her fascination of elemental spells had made her exceptionally proficient in Primal magic.

"I can manipulate all the elements, but my strength lies with fire," she explained.

"Then we shall begin there. First, I would like you to show me something as an example of your spell strength, and then your control."

She nodded her assent hardly noticing the creak of the door opening behind her. She took in the training room. It was a large, open room at the base of the tower. Everything had been modified over the years to be able to withstand the spells practiced within, from the thick walls to the incredibly high ceiling. Summoning her power, she conjured to mind what fire was to her: the heat, the smell, the light. Ilaria allowed her magic to swell and ripple around her. Focusing the energy, she launched a large fireball across the room. It erupted against the far wall covering the stone in brilliant flames. The heat rushed back to her from across the room, lifting her hair and caressing her bare skin. Her borrowed robes quivered slightly behind her.

"Impressive," Irving smiled slightly. "Now, control?"

Ilaria paused for only a moment before deciding on a spell. When she had wanted to learn this particular spell, her father had chided her about its pomp but had been pleased when she had mastered it. She allowed her memories of him to mingle with her magic giving the spell even more focus. She took a deep breath and followed the casting motions with her hands, eyes closed. It was only a few seconds before she paused, a small stream of fire slithering from her fingertips. The fire uncoiled around her like a ribbon. After circling her several times, the ribbon thickened, writhing slightly before taking on the appearance of a horned serpent. When the fire took its form, her eyes opened. They were glowing with the energy she was pulling from the Fade. Swinging her arms to one side, the fire serpent took off around the room, undulating like the form it was inspired by. As it came back to Ilaria again, she threw her arms into the air at the side of her head and it burst into thousands of tiny sparks that burnt out in moments.

Followed by an unusually large templar guard, Anders entered the training room moments before Ilaria began her testing. He was amused by the shuffling of templar feet that followed Ilaria's initial display of magic. He was fairly certain that there were few mages in the Circle that could summon a fireball that size. The rush of heat following the blast felt like a soothing balm after spending so much time in the cold dungeon. He eagerly awaited her next showcase.

It was almost a disappointment to see her in the Circle's robes. He couldn't help thinking that pretty girls should never be covered head to toe that way. It simply wasn't flattering. Instead of lingering on those thoughts, he found himself appreciating the way her hair cascaded down her back. It was free from the thick braid and dirt from the day before, and it was light and wavy. He noticed that there were several small braids that appeared to be beaded hidden away in the thickness.

He watched her in profile as she summoned the next spell. Her eyes closed and the corners of her lips turned up in a slight smile. The energy flowing from her was almost tangible as the fire slithered from her and then grew. There were several surprised gasps as the fire formed and leaped around the room. When the fire exploded around her and she took a neutral stance, Anders reminded himself that his mouth hanging open was truly unflattering at any time. He managed to assume his carefree swagger just before she glanced toward him. He smirked and waggled his fingers at her in greeting.

Irving began prattling on about superior control, with Ilaria paying polite attention. Anders wasn't listening to a thing he said. Instead, he was imagining fire serpents gobbling up templars so he and Ilaria could make their escape. The tingle of magic ended his daydreams and he focused in time to see the delicate mage fueling several tiny fires on the ground that shaped into butterflies before fluttering out of existence.

The day continued much the same way. Irving would request demonstration of a particular type of magic and Ilaria would perform one spell or another to demonstrate her ability; from fire to ice, earth, and lightning. Then came the Spirit spells. They were weaker than her Primal spells with the exception of her shield. As midday drew near, she found her strength waning. The last time she'd used magic this much was in Tevinter two years ago. Since then, she limited casting to small displays of power: lighting a campfire when the wood was damp, cooling water to drink on hot days and occasionally sapping pesky bugs with tiny energy bolts. A wave of relief coursed through her when Irving and Greagoir agreed the testing complete. As Irving lead her out of the training room and down the hallway she stayed close to the wall in case her legs gave out and she needed to sit. It wasn't long before she felt herself sway and she prepared to catch herself against the wall. Instead, a gauntleted hand gripped her upper arm, keeping her on her feet. Cullen. She looked up into pale green eyes and smiled wearily. She was about to thank him when an overly bright voice interrupted.

"I'm sure the lady thanks you for your kind services, Templar, but I can handle things from here," said Anders as he walked up to Ilaria. Without waiting for a response, he looped his arm around her waist and pulled her after Irving. He was almost uncomfortably close but he smelled like soap and magic and his support was welcome at the moment. She hadn't realized how shaky her legs felt. "We meet again, I see. You seem to be fairing a little better today, dear lady," his grin incorrigible.

Ilaria's smile was weak but warm. "Managed to talk someone into letting you come to the party?" she teased.

Anders chuckled. "They had to invite me eventually, life of the party and all."

She smiled back but didn't say anything. She knew he was observing her when he turned to look at the templars behind them as he summoned a rejuvenation spell. "Nothing to get worked up about. Just something to help the lady," he explained. She felt remarkably better afterwards if not quite up to her normal strength. It was shortly thereafter they caught up to Irving. He directed the two mages to take a seat in a small room. He sat across from them, Commander Greagoir just to the side.

"Ilaria, as we discussed, if you are to stay you will be required to go through the Harrowing. With your skill level, you will be tested very soon. Do you still wish to go through with this?" Irving queried.

"Yes, First-Enchanter," she answered.

"Very well. You've met Anders, I see."

"Yes, before today, actually. We met the day I arrived."

"Ah, yes. Greagoir and I have agreed that Anders will be your mentor if you still wish to study healing. I assume that this is agreeable to both of you?"

Ilaria simply nodded. Anders smirked. "You mean I get to go from the dungeon to spending everyday with a lovely young woman? I think I can live with that." He turned and winked at her.

Irving rolled his eyes before continuing. "Then it is settled. Ilaria, while you remain with us Anders will be your mentor. He is an accomplished healer. You can learn much from him."

"Thank you, First-Enchanter," she said, her voice respectful.

"And Anders," Irving continued, "for once, please, be on your best behavior."

Anders sighed dramatically. "If I must."