It was well into the afternoon by the time she traipsed back into the clinic. With every step her boots scuffed the floor, as if her legs were too heavy to lift into proper full sized steps. Both Anders and Hawke were there waiting with equally concerned expressions. Jayde barely had the energy to move, let alone ease their concerns. Those concerns became a moment of panicked frenzy when she removed her hooded cloak to reveal the blood soaked clothing underneath. She had no real sense of how long they fussed over her until Anders declared that the blood was not her own. Throughout all of the poking and prodding she remained silent. There was no resistance when she allowed them to lead her over to a chair and be seated.
It was her cousin's hands on her shoulders, gently shaking them, and the concern in her voice that seeped through the foggy haze of exhaustion. "Jayde, what happened to you? Whose blood is it?"
When she thought there were none left, a single tear slid down her cheek as she focused her eyes on Hawke, "I couldn't save him. He was so tiny, innocent and perfect. There was so much blood and she was so weak-," her voice cracked as sobs vibrated throughout her body.
"She is exhausted," Anders said quietly as he placed a hand softly on Hawke's shoulder. "Maybe you should help her clean up so she can get some rest."
It wasn't long after that she found herself in the back room of the clinic, dressed in one of the gowns usually reserved for patients and free of all blood traces. As she lay on the bed Jayde stared at the ceiling. For as exhausted as she was, sleep remained out of reach.
Outside of The Hanged Man the night before, her attempt to make a noise and alert anyone who may have been nearby had been muffled by the hand that was clasped around her mouth. The first thing to enter her mind had been Templars, she thought they had finally caught up with her. A quiet voice beside her ear had been quick to reassure her that she was in no danger, it did little to eliviate the fast beating of her heart. The voice begged her not to scream when he removed his hand. Ultimately it was the desperation in his voice that had compelled her to follow his instructions.
He needed the help of a healer for his labouring wife. He had described in part his wife's struggles and the blood she was losing but, it in no way prepared her for the sight befell her eyes. A small, pale and weak looking form of a woman was laying on top of a bed that was covered in blood soaked sheets, blankets and towels. Another woman, (she would later find out to be the womans sister) was by the bed holding a limp pale hand. She too was covered with blood smudges all over and her eyes - her eyes were haunted, defeated and full of grief.
When she was training as a healer she had learned there always appeared to be more blood than there actually was. In this case it was a combination of both. The pregnant woman was hemorrhaging badly and blood always spread quickly. It made the entire room look like a horror scene out of a poorly written novel. After the initial shock subsided, Jayde was quick to react. She spent the next hours with magic coursing through her veins as she healed one bleed after another within the mother's abdomen. The baby was overly large for his mother's tiny form. She worked tirelessly to keep the bleeding under control and try to dislodge the baby from where he was stuck against his mother's pelvis. It was a couple of hours before his birth that Jayde had already sensed the babies loss of heartbeat, his mother still needed saving and thus he had to be born regardless. So she remained quiet and continued to encourage the pale women on the bed.
It was an act of sheer desperation on Jayde's part that finally dislodged the baby's head from its trap. The woman on the bed had been screaming in agony for hours and was becoming ever weaker. She too would have been lost and then the man would have been without both his wife and his child.
Jayde held the baby's tiny, lifeless form as she looked upon his hopeful parents with sorrow and informed them of their son's demise. She passed his lifeless form over to his crying mother, at her request. In the woman's eyes was a look that would be forever etched into her mind; it was the look of a mother who would have rathered giving her own life to save her child than face a lifetime without him. With her head low and the offered words of condolences tasting sour upon her lips, Jayde slipped her hooded cloak back on and left the parents to their grief. What kind of a healer couldn't even save the life of a tiny innocent baby?
She climbed up-top a nearby building, from there she could see a large portion of Lowtown below. Groups of refugees stood huddled around single fires, scrambling for scraps of food. Everywhere she looked there was a sense of sorrow, of hopelessness, of people whose lives had been forever marked by despair. Instead of helping to set at least one thing right, to help someone have a glimmer of hope she had not been able to. Just as her healing magic had been useless against the demons when they came and ripped apart her best friend right before her eyes.
Healing magic had provided no defense against those beasts and, once a life was already lost, healing magic could not bring it back. It was on that day, followed by her mentor and teacher Wynne leaving to assist the Hero of Ferelden in her fight against the Darkspawn, that Jayde had set aside her studies of healing to focus on the destructive powers of the elements.
Destruction wouldn't have saved the baby any more than healing had. Or perhaps it was just her who could not live up to the powers that had been bestowed upon her.
She remained for hours on top of the building, sitting in silence watching. The one thing she didn't see was the pair of watchful eyes that had been upon her, from the moment she had left the man and womans abode.
Cullen had stormed out of the Gallows that morning after reading the reports. His stomach felt twisted and knotted to the point where it was nauseating. The burning started then deep within, rapidly expanding into an all consuming blind rage. His hands clenched into fists by his side. Jayde Amell turned blood mage, it was like a kick to his stomach that instantly expelled all the oxygen from his lungs.
She had been there, she had seen what blood magic could do. How dangerous it was and how innocent people lost lives because of mages that were out of control. Of all people, of all mages, she should have known better. This just stood as further proof that all mages were dangerous, perhaps even too dangerous to be allowed to continue. He would make sure she came to an end before anyone else could be harmed. It was a promise he made to himself and the innocents who lived in Kirkwall. Blood mages were a blight upon the lands that must be purged, each and every one of them.
Lowtown was where he had seen her last and the only place he had to begin his search. He guessed correctly that speaking with Hawke would only have been a waste of both his time and effort. He was surprised when he spotted her dark hood on the way to the alley near The Hanged Man, he most assuredly had not expected it to be that easy. Jayde was exiting a small, rundown looking abode when he caught sight of her. One thing that didn't sit right was her lack of caution, the hood was only half in place allowing him to see her identity easily. As she turned down the path, the cloak fell open, her clothing underneath was blood-stained and some of it looked fresh.
Cullen found himself caught between two options, going straight after her or looking to see if she had left someone behind who needed assistance. It was the image of her face as it had just been before she turned away, that flashed back into his mind and subsequently gave him pause. Jayde had looked positively grief stricken. Her face was marred with emotional pain, it was unlike any expression he had ever seen on her before and it drove right to his core. For the second time that day, Cullen had found himself devoid of oxygen.
On seeing her like that, the flames of burning rage inside him dimmed, just enough to have him turn and knock on the door she had walked out of only moments before. He spoke quietly to the man who appeared from inside and learned all that he was able to of the events that had taken place the night before. The truth was not what he had expected to hear, Jayde Amell the healer, just as he had remembered her to be.
Cullen followed the direction she had been heading in, expecting she would be well out of sight by the time he reached the end of the street. As he stopped to look in both directions he saw her again, she was climbing and her movements weren't fast. He could have easily caught up with her but he remained below. When he realised she had taken up residence at the top of the building and seemed to be in no hurry to leave, he had another opportunity make a move to detain her. Instead he took up a position of his own that allowed him to watch her through a looking glass he was carrying.
He spent the next hours watching and trying to convince himself that now was his chance to take her in. She was clearly exhausted and unalert. An easy mark.
He couldn't do it.
She looked so alone, lost, vulnerable and even afraid. She didn't look like an out of control blood mage about to unleash on the city. She looked like a person who was hurting, perhaps even as much as he.