Liminality

Chapter 6: Getting Around

The next week proved to be the most intense of Jolina's admittingly young life. She met Blackwall in the morning to practice using a sword. While they had established that she could remember and reproduce the basics to his satisfaction (her grip, the way she kept her center of gravity, her footwork), if became obvious that most of the subtleties of the craft were beyond her. She was also constantly having to readjust because of the differences between here and the Fade. Her sword was too heavy to lift and strike comfortably, the cling of the metal too loud. In fact, her entire being felt heavier.

She had asked Solas about this when she went to see him that night in the Fade. He hadn't sounded surprised.

"You were able to compensate through these difficulties with your will alone. That made you stronger, faster. More skilled. But everything in the Fade is merely a reflection. You would not be able to reproduce your efforts to the same effect outside of the Fate. It will take hard work and a lot of practice. You will need to build up the strength in your muscles."

Jo was disturbed that this manipulation occurred without her conscious thought, and told Solas as much. "But I wasn't trying to be stronger or faster? I thought the ability to will something could only happen as a result of a purposeful, conscious effort?"

Solas had shaken his head, but he didn't seem to disapprove of her question. "It does not need to happen consciously. Plenty of your will is imposed subconsciously. You consciously wanted to be more skilled, and your subconscious understood that it would require more strength and agility, and attempted to will those abilities to that effect. There are other examples too, though. When you were attempting to recreate the memory with the tree full of light, did you consciously think of all of those details? Or did you have a general idea, and some of the details were filled in naturally?"

Jo had nodded. That made sense, although it made her a little uncomfortable to know she had been doing this outside of her control.

Later, Jo wished all of her interactions with Solas had been this productive.

Their first meeting outside of the Fade was spent attempting to ascertain if she could locate magic by feel. That had gone well. She appeared to be very sensitive to magic, although Solas was a little disturbed to hear that Jo could feel emotions or sentiments attached to the wards, glyphs, and spells.

The next day was spent trying to get Jo to feel her own magic. This had been more difficult. It had been something brought up by her spirit friends in the Fade, and they had shown her the subtle ripples sent out from her frame that seemed to instigate change. Wisdom had informed her that these visible vibrations were a result of the manifestation of her magic. But this method did not translate well outside of that place; she was not able to see the ripples in Thedas. And she couldn't recognize her own magic by feel. In fact, it was difficult to feel her magic at all; the power and tightening in her chest felt so much like anxiety that Jo convinced herself she was suffering from a panic attack, and then Solas could do little more than watch her hyperventilate as she attempted to calm herself down.

By the third day of this, Solas was visibly frustrated. He instead attempted to get her to cast the few spells she was familiar with, but she couldn't make anything happen. And the longer that nothing happened, the more doubt blossomed in her chest that convinced her that this had all been a mistake. Surely what had happened in the war room was a fluke? Or perhaps her power was so weak that she was only capable of producing something in moments of sheer desperation?

He had eventually resorted to copying Dorian's approach, and threw a ball of flame at her chest. She saw it coming, and had panicked, put her hands in front of her breasts… but no barrier had appeared, and Jo had screamed as the flames ate away at the exposed skin on her arms, hands, and chest. The tears came on like a torrent, and with them a flare of emotions that hurt almost as much as the burned flesh- disappointment, fear, embarrassment, doubt, anxiety…

And then Cole had appeared by her side, seemingly out of nowhere, and although his gentle touch on her blistered fingers had caused her to cry out, she was so glad he was there… She heard the rogue admonish the mage, obviously upset, his lips pulled into a deep frown under his large hat… She had looked towards Solas to see his reaction, but suddenly there was another fire ball rushing towards Cole's side, and Jo didn't think as she gripped the hem of Cole's shirt in fear and felt a rush of energy in her arms, just as a barrier appeared that easily dissolved the ball of fire.

Jo couldn't breathe. She was caught somewhere between sobbing from the shock, shaking from the panic, and vomiting from the pain. She could barely hear Cole, who sounded angrier than she had ever heard him.

"What are you doing?! You're hurting her!"

Solas sounded frustrated as he defended himself. "Nothing else was working! How can I be blamed for the fact that she apparently cannot perform magic unless you are in danger?" He walked up to her, but Cole moved so that he stood between them. Solas snapped, "I need to heal the burns."

Cole moved so he was positioned at her back, and started patting her head like she had seen him do with a nug the day prior. Solas started healing her burned fingers, and made his way up her arms. The healing magic itself was soothing, and through it she could feel Solas' remorse and frustration. She reached out to touch the mages hand.

"I'm so sorry." She could still feel herself shaking, although the pain was rapidly receding. Solas frowned and shook his head.

"Ir abelas. I hurt you. This… is rather unusual. The self-preservation instinct is typically very strong. Even the most inexperienced mages are capable of defensive or offensive magic if their life is in danger. It happens naturally. But you…"

Cole orated her thoughts, his hand resting heavily on her head. Jo found the weight comforting.

"She doesn't like herself. She doesn't put any worth on her life. And she still doesn't really believe in magic."

The elf looked at her in disbelief after that proclamation. "Why?" he asked her.

Jo frowned, trying to organize her thoughts. "I'm still not entirely sure this is real? I don't feel real. Although the pain helped." Solas' expression didn't change, and Jo felt the need to elaborate. "This all seems rather impossible? And there are some mental illnesses that I suffered from in my world that are not helping. I have a tendency towards anxiety and depression, and sometimes I get into dissociative episodes."

"Dissociative episodes?" Solas sounded confused.

Jo elaborated. "Technically diagnosed as Depersonalization-derealization Disorder. I was told it was a coping mechanism I developed as a kid as a result of being bullied and having a shitty home life. I learned to deal with trauma by distancing myself from the pain and rationalizing it as not real or not a part of my personal experience, but now my mind does this automatically."

Solas' lips were pursed and considering. "What reason would you have to feel worthless?"

Jo felt her hand tighten on Cole's hem as she responded. "That's what I've been told my entire life. Kind of difficult to dispute in that circumstance."

The mage sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Any other difficulties you would like to share?"

Jo bit her recently healed lip in apprehension. "I'm having issues because, what I think is my magic feels like a panic attack? My chest aches and feels uncomfortably tight, and there is tension in my limbs… but I don't know how to let go? In my world when this happened there was nothing I could do. The pressure just pooled until I felt ready to scrape the skin off my forearms with my fingernails, but there was nowhere for that energy to go."

Solas tilted his head from that admission. "So you panic and try to hold it because you are unfamiliar with any safe, reliable method of release?" It sounded like a rhetorical question as rested fingers on his chin in thought. "Cole? You and Varric can take her for the rest of today. I have an idea, but I need some time to put everything in place."

Cole nodded, and led her away.

Jo's experiences training with Cole had been interesting, but not very effective. They were both extremely hesitant to accidentally hurt the other, so their sparring session turned into forty minutes of nervous circling and only a few half-hearted attempts at striking and dodging before Cole backed off and Jo followed. Varric eventually interrupted them.

"You guys, this is painful to watch. Kid, she can't learn if you don't attack."

Cole responded to him still looking at Jo. "She doesn't really want me to attack. Clinging metal too loud, colors swirl, please don't let him hurt me too. But I want to help." Jo felt her cheeks color after hearing the admission, embarrassed at her weakness.

Varric let out an exaggerated sigh, before coming towards her, making a grand demonstration of taking her in hand. Jo felt amusement curl the edges of her lips up. "Well then, I guess I'm going to have to step in. Come on Peaches, let's see what you can do with a bow."

"Peaches?" Jo asked as the three of them made their way to the armory.

Varric nodded. "Sweet and sour, but you seem to bruise easy. And just look at that blush." Jo colored at the description, which had obviously been his intention.

Her attempts with a bow had been a repeat of her experience with Blackwall. Varric complimented her form, but she lacked the strength to keep the notched arrow even enough to hit the target. Her attempts strained her already sore shoulders, and her biceps and triceps were constantly burning now. After what felt like her 50th fumble, Varric called it quits.

"Alright, well it seems the obvious first step for you would be to build up your strength. I will talk with Ariya to see if we can get you in with the recruits. The exercises they are working on focus on building up the strength to hold a sword. And if you find the time, I suggest finding a space to run in order to build up some stamina."

Jo had nodded, thinking that he would seek out the Inquisitor sometime soon, but he immediately took her and Cole and marched right up to Ariya. She stopped her sparring session with Cassandra to stare at the three of them in bemusement, sweat dripping down her face. "Yes, Varric?"

Varric wasted no time getting to the heart of the matter. "Peaches here is weaker than water. I suggest she be trained with some of the new recruits in order to build up some muscle.

Cassandra immediately grimaced. "She's a mage, Varric."

"A mage, who according to Chuckles, isn't capable of magic. And she needs to know how to defend herself."

Ariya looked at them dispassionately. And then sighed. "Fine, but I want one of you with her just in case. Leliana is still waiting to hear back from her informants, and in the meantime I want everyone to be safe." She turned to look at Jo, "I will talk with Commander Cullen, but you should prepare to join them at the start of next week."

Jo had nodded, and softly stated, "Thank you Inquisitor." What else could she say? Both she and Cassandra were powerful, intimidating women. They had both nodded, and resumed their spar.

By that time the sun was just about setting, and Varric took her and Cole to the tavern to get something to eat.

"I don't eat," Cole seemed to remind Varric as they sat down at a table together.

Varric ignored him. "So, what do you like?" he asked Jolina, motioning to the dwarf behind the counter for a menu. The man seemed to scowl at them for a few beats, before grudgingly slapping a couple of menus down on the table and sauntering away. This was the first time Jo had been in the tavern; for the last few days she had been picking at whatever food was lying around in unattended plates in the main Reception Hall.

"What do they have?" Jo asked, looking down at the menu. She always had a difficult time deciding what to eat.

"A little bit of this, a little bit of that," he responded offhandedly. Jo saw that Cole looked uncomfortable and frowned.

"Do they have cookies?" Jo asked.

"Cookies?" Varric asked, sounding both confused and amused. Jo nodded. Varric relented. "Sure, why not…" He went to the counter and made their order after dropping off the menus, and sat back down with little aplomb as he stared at Jo curiously, his brow raised. Jo ignored him in favor of looking around.

The tavern was much larger than what was depicted in her world. There were two large floors with a multitude of tables, and the third floor was made up of a row of doors that seemed to contain inn rooms. Maryden played music in a far corner, strumming a lute almost lazily. She recognized the Chargers dominating one corner of the inn, laughing boisterously and chugging ale, accompanied by a familiar drunk Qunari. She could hear Sutherland interacting with his crew up above, celebrating their new acquisition of armor. There were also plenty of soldiers in conversation. It was loud, but the emotions were nice- merriment, security, togetherness. She could see why Cole might like it here.

It took only a few minutes for their plates to be dropped off, and when they were Jo had to laugh. She could tell they were cookies, objectively, but what she had received was not at all what she was expecting. They looked like mushy biscuits containing pieces of dried fruit. She bit into it experimentally. Not bad, if a bit bland and not at all sweet compared to what she was used to. In fact, it tasted like some of those really expensive health bars you could get at a specialty market.

Hm. This wouldn't work. She had thought to return the favor to Cole by feeding him something he might like (he looked like he would be the type to have a sweet tooth). After all, it wasn't that he couldn't eat, right? Just that he didn't need to?

She would need to try something else. After a trip to the kitchens. And possibly a trip to see Josephine. Hm.

Varric looked amused at her disgruntlement. "Not what you were expecting?"

Jo let out a huff. "Cookies in my world are not at all like this. Do you think the people in the kitchen would let me use their oven if I wanted to bake something myself?"

Varric looked surprised. "You bake?"

Jo raised her own brow in return. "Yes?"

"But you are not a baker?"

"No?"

"Huh," Varric replied, before biting into his meal with gusto. "They might. Although you are going to have to figure out when they keep fire in the oven." Hm, another complication. Jo nodded in thanks.

Soon Jo and Cole headed up to his room after wishing Varric a good night. This night had proceeded similar to the three previous. Jo had slipped off all of her clothes and quickly donned a tank top and capri leggings (some of the only clothes she had thought to put in her backpack) pretending that Cole couldn't see her. She had attempted to ask him to leave her first night, but it seemed he took his job as her keeper quite seriously. Either that or she hadn't quite communicated what she wanted amidst her embarrassment.

In any case, she hurried through her nighttime ablutions in order to scurry under the covers, mostly because it was so cold in the room without the layers of leather the Inquisition had equipped her with (after they had convinced her to part with the blankets). Shivering until her body heated beneath the cloth, Jo retrieved her music box from her backpack as Cole settled himself next to her on top of the covers. She wound up the box, thinking of the ballet that had inspired the tune, as she and Cole settled into a contentful comradery.

This night, however, Cole broke the silence before she could pass out.

"It's pretty," the blonde rogue offered when the tune finished, and although she could not see his face from this angle underneath his hat, Jo thought she could hear him smiling.

"Mmhmm," Jo agreed, before she nervously asked a question that had been on her mind for a while. "Cole? Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes." She wondered what it was like to be asked questions he already heard in people's heads.

"How do you help people?"

"I listen," he said, fidgeting with his fingers.

That made sense, but… "How do you listen without losing yourself?" Jo remembered breaking down in the Fade. Helping sometimes hurt, especially when she already felt so much…

His fingers stilled. "But helping them is what makes me me. It helps me find myself."

"But sometimes it hurts?" Jo was very hesitant to bring this point up, mostly because she knew how much he must have suffered associating with her the past week, but she had to know.

His head came forward in a nod, and then, "But helping matters more."

"I'm sorry Cole," Jo stated sadly. She really wanted to make things easier for him, but it was hard to do when she felt so powerless. Although she knew that thinking this way was bordering compliance… this train of thought caused her to remember the connotations associated with learned helplessness, which made her feel like rebelling for some sense independence-

The hat moved from side to side. "Don't be sorry. I like helping."

Still… "How do you think I should help?"

There was silence and Jo imagined him frowning. Finally, he said, "Don't worry. Even trying helps."

Jo let out a small, frustrated huff, before winding up the music box again and throwing her head into the pillow.

She heard Cole state, "Don't worry, Jo. It will work out," before she felt a few fingers thread through her hair (it really did feel like she was being pet, but it felt so good she didn't say anything). Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.

The next morning Jo woke up to see Cole sitting by the single window located at the far end of the room, watching the changing colors as the sun slowly came up. Her mouth felt dry and her eyes crusty, but it took a few minutes to recognize what might be wrong. No impromptu lesson from Solas in the Fade. Instead her dreams were barely remembered flashes of an old nightmare. So this didn't happen every night? It felt… decidedly odd. She had enjoyed waking from the Fade, comforted by the familiar… something that made up that place. But now…

Trying to shake off the discomfort she addressed Cole. "What do you do while everyone is sleeping?"

"Listen to dreams," he stated despondently, not turning to face her.

Jo became slightly concerned at his tone. "Cole? Is something wrong?"

"No," he stated, but it almost sounded as if he was… pouting?

Jo frowned. She got out of bed, and took a few steps towards him. "Cole?"

Silence, and Jo saw his shoulders tense slightly at her approach. Perturbed, she took those few extra steps and lifted up the edge of his hat as she peeked around to see his face. He was frowning, but what drew her attention was the dark bruise circling his right eye.

Jo gasped, and gently outlined the edge of his bruise with her fingertips. "Cole, what happened?"

His lips were definitely pouting, and his pale blue eyes were narrowed. "You hit me."

"While I was asleep?" Jo clarified gently. He nodded. "Oh, honey," she exclaimed at his look, before throwing her arms around the blonde rogue. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," she muttered into his shoulder, but the rogue seemed rather uncomfortable. So he was familiar with hysterical women in tears, but not coherent ones trying to bring him comfort?

She eventually let go, and made a show of righting his hat. "Just let me change and we can ask Solas to heal that bruise for you." Feeling a bit discomforted, she quickly changed into the soft leather. In no time at all the pair of them were heading towards the Rotunda, although Jo paused in the Reception Hall long enough to grab some fresh fruit.

Solas looked surprised to see them so early, pausing in the middle of a paint stroke. His eyes narrowed in on Cole's bruise rather quickly, and he shot her a dark look. "What happened?"

Jo felt like sighing. The immediate suspicion hurt. Jo wondered if she could ever get used to feeling like she was walking on pins and needles. "I accidentally hit Cole while I was having a nightmare. Could you heal him?"

Solas' look became considering. "This actually suits rather well for our purposes today. Do you think you would be capable of healing him yourself?"

Jo felt something drop in the pit of her stomach. "I don't know how," she admitted, looking pointedly at the pattern of the rug that lay above the stone floor.

She heard the elf descend from the scaffold and approach the two of him. "Jolina," he stated, and Jo's gaze shot up to meet his. "Do not think about technique for right now. I want to get an idea of what you can do intuitively. Just try."

Jo remembered Cole's words from last night, and felt slightly bitter. Just try? Because, obviously, nothing could go wrong…

She took a fortifying breath and turned to Cole. He looked solemn. "I really am sorry," she told him, and then concentrated on her want to heal him, ignoring the familiar tension tightening the muscles in her arms. She wanted to make him better, to heal the marred skin that she had damaged unconsciously. She wanted to show that she cared about her new potential friend…

She reached out tentatively to touch his cheek, and both Jo and Cole let out a gasp as her magic jumped to her command, immediately streaming up his skin to flood and heal the area around his eye. The healing finished with an almost inaudible pop, and Jo snatched her hand back as if her fingers had been scalded. She turned to look at Solas with wide, apprehensive eyes, feeling overwhelmed.

Solas nodded, coming up to inspect her work. "How does it feel Cole?" he asked.

Cole was looking at her when he answered, "Power stretching, curling, mandated, released. She felt relief, but fear because it was real. The guilt tasted sour, but the purpose was clear, and at the end… friend?" He looked confused but he sounded hopeful, and Jo knew instantly what he was asking.

"If you would like?" she responded, not paying Solas any mind.

Cole grinned tumultuously as he said, "Yes," and Jo couldn't help but grin at him in return. She felt ridiculously happy; she had had these moments in her previous life, but more often than not they turned out poorly. People teasing her, or people who quickly determined that being her friend had social detriments. But she trusted Cole.

Solas interrupted their moment with little remorse. "You seem to have done a satisfactory job on Cole. Now we will determine whether or not your healing powers can be used on others. Shall we make our way to the infirmary?"

"The infirmary?" Jo repeated nervously. She would need to attempt to use her uncontrolled and inconsistent magical abilities on the vulnerable sick and dying? How utterly nerve wracking.

Solas gave her a sardonic smirk. "Of course. Where else do you expect to find those in need of healing?"

Jo gave him her own version of a pout, which caused his smirk to stretch as he led the three of them out of the rotunda. Jo ate her piece of fruit as they walked across the courtyard in silence, surprised to see how active everyone was this early in the morning. A boy was washing a beautiful mare by the stables, Cassandra was hacking away at practice dummies with a sword, and a beautifully dressed seller was putting out her wares. Several minutes of stone steps later, which had Jo breathing a bit harder than she wanted to admit, they made it into the infirmary.

The surgeon got up to meet them as they came through the door. "Ah, Solas. I was expecting you. Just not this early."

Solas smiled at him as if he made it a point to enjoy inconveniencing others. "Is there someone here you think would be suitable?"

The surgeon nodded, and led the group to a small cot set up in the corner of the infirmary. On the cot lay a small girl with a bound leg and a sweaty forehead. "She was brought in here a few days ago, but her leg is rotting and I haven't managed to break the fever. Two rounds of bloodletting and an infusion of Gurgut bile has proven ineffective."

Jo turned to the surgeon in disturbed astonishment. "Bloodletting?" She had forgotten that Thedas was still utilizing the Humoral theory.

The surgeon raised a brow and sneered. "One of the most modern medical techniques we currently use. It is imperative for balancing out the humors." He turned to Solas. "You bring me someone who does not even know how to use leeches? What am I supposed to do with her?"

Jo couldn't keep the disgruntlement out of her face, and decided that perhaps she could be of some help after all. Even if she proved unable to heal, she could at least clean the wound of infection and reduce her fever with skills she learned from the first aid course she was required to take before her trip abroad. Thank the heavens for small mercies.

As she got closer to the girl, however, Jo stopped. There was something eerily familiar about her small form, and it took several moments before she was able to place it. The whispers were but echoes compared to the Fade, but she heard a recognizable sentiment and a familiar story. A little girl whose mother was ill, deathly afraid that her father would never return from war. People screaming and setting houses aflame in the night. The fear and discomfort and loneliness that seemed to pour from her small frame.

This was the same little dreamer she had come across in the Fade. The first she had helped. It seemed so long ago now, but she could still remember the lullaby she had sung. And the little girl was still alive; it seemed almost miraculous. Looking at her sweet young face Jo felt so much at that moment. Sadness, concern, and compassion. Before she knew it she was humming the melody, and then singing as she kneeled beside the cot. "Baby sleep, gently sleep. Life is long and love is deep. Time will be, sweet for thee, all the world to see."

She gently swiped the small sweaty forehead, gathering loose hair strands behind an ear, and slowly began to unwrap the bandage around her leg. "Time to look about and know, how the shadows come and go. How the breeze, stirs the trees. How the blossoms grow."

The infection was serious. A putrid smell came from the torn flesh, pus covering dead skin that was a sickly black and yellow, and Jo could see a flash of bone. She placed her hands on either side of the wound and thought about how much she cared for this child. How dearly she wanted her to recover, to take away at least one pain that she had been forced to experience in her short life. She thought about clearing the infection and knitting skin. "Baby sleep, gently sleep. Life is long and love is deep. Just hold fast, say your plea, we will wait for thee."

Just as it had with Cole, magic poured from her fingertips and began to pool into the wound. The girl shot awake and startled, her hands coming up in distress. Jo looked her in the eyes, smiled, and continued to sing. "Golden slumbers kiss your eye, smiles when you arise. Play in glee, sing carefree. Reach to touch the sky." By the time she finished the verse, the wound had closed and nary a scar remained. The little girl started crying small gasping breaths, and propelled herself into Jo's arms. Jo wrapped them around small shoulders and rubbed the girl's back in a motion that she hoped was comforting.

Jo had a very odd moment just then. It was one of those cosmic moments she rarely experienced, and didn't really hear about outside of religion or recreational drug use. She felt as if everything was falling into place- like everything that was supposed to happen was, and everything was connected. She was also overwhelmed with this sense that everything was going to be alright. The power of this faith was astounding. She turned up to the three men in bewilderment, but none of them were looking at her. Cole was looking at the girl in her arms with a small smile. His eyes then flicked up to meet hers and the smile grew.

"You made it better," he stated happily. Jo smiled back, feeling rather good about the whole thing. She then turned her attention on the other standing men in the room.

Solas and the surgeon were staring at each other, the surgeon frustrated and Solas strangely dispassionate. It took a moment for Jo to see why it was strange; his face was expressionless, but his eyes were dancing with mischief.

"You didn't tell me she was a mage," the surgeon bit out, frowning.

Solas' eyes twinkled. "We weren't sure. And I would hate to have misinformed you."

"So you were letting an untrained apostate practice on my patients?" the man sounded scandalized.

Solas' eyebrow raised. "To no small effect. Or did we interrupt your plans to save the girl?"

The surgeon scowled. Solas continued to speak, his tone breezy, as if speaking with a casual acquaintance about the weather.

"You do not mind if we continue to conduct healing lessons in here, of course? I can imagine you would appreciate the reduced workload."

"I don't suppose I have the option to refuse?"

Solas gave the man a challenging smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Of course you can. After you explain to the Inquisitor and her advisors that you are interfering with the training of a talented healer."

The man somehow managed to produce a skeptical sneer, which Jo thought was rather impressive. "Talented? Her? At that small demonstration? We have better healers than that already present."

Solas smile grew sharp. "That was her second ever attempt at healing. I believe there is room to grow." He then swung himself away from the surgeon so that his front was facing Jolina. "Well? Is this something you would like to be trained in?"

Jo smiled again. This was an opportunity to help. An opportunity to gain some control over herself. An opportunity to become a little more independent. "Absolutely," she stated assuredly.

"Excellent," Solas stated. "Well, come along then. What you were doing was utilizing a healing aura, but learning specific techniques could greatly reduce the amount of mana you spend. I have a few books in my rooms that might be of interest to you…" Jolina gave the girl a farewell kiss on her forehead as the elf led the two out the door, giving the Surgeon a cheeky backwards wave as they left the infirmary.

That night Jolina desperately wanted to visit some of her friends from the Fade. She was so proud of herself, and she wanted to share her success. As she stood in the familiar space, she willed some of her friends to come find her. Wisdom and Faith showed up after several minutes, and she grinned at them.

They had been happy to hear of her experiences. Faith touched her cheek, looking proud, before floating away. Wisdom had stayed, although she looked slightly distressed.

"Jo," she said, "you need to be careful. While you were here we were able to avoid demons for the most part because there were so many of us protecting you. But by yourself you attract their attention. Your decision to become a healer is wonderful, but that will also make you more susceptible. Ask Solas for help, but you need to learn how to protect yourself."

Jo felt as if someone had dumped cold water over her head. Demons? She knew they were there, but… what could they do to her? She had acknowledged the risks beforehand, of course, but she had never felt in danger. So, being here was not safe? Her familiar Fade? Would they try to possess her?

Jo's worry grew, but Wisdom just pulled her into a hug, and gestured a few feet away. Jo looked up to see a familiar bald elf, watching them with crossed arms and a curious look on his face.

Jo squeezed Wisdom's hand and approached him. "So, demons?" she stated awkwardly, hands fiddling with the thread at the hem of her tunic.

Solas snorted. "I take it you were suitably chastised?"

Jo nodded. She heard the man sigh.

"One step at a time," he said, looking a little exasperated with her meek attitude. "While you are here with me you needn't worry about demons. After we have developed your skills as a healer, we can look into recognizing a demon's intentions, as you have already proven adept at recognizing them. Hopefully you can continue to avoid their attention."

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, or any lyrics composed by James Newton Howard in his soundtrack of The Village.

A/N: An extra long chapter to make up for the last one! Please let me know what you think.