Chapter Seven
The Harrowing Chamber.
She's been shaking since she climbed the stairs, leaving behind a watchful Neria and the three templars that will guard the door from the outside. Her tremors are more from sleep deprivation, she admits, than from fear. Solona is still confident that she'll do just fine. She is prepared.
Before her stand the two most important men in her life. Greagoir and Irving both give her speeches and she should be listening but she is so tired. The third most important man in her life is standing next to a found in the middle of the room, looking miserable.
Cullen shakes as well. His armor is so heavy; only the light sway of his skirt gives away the nervousness he displays. She tries not to look at him. He does not meet her eyes and she thinks back to the night before. Today she will become a full mage. Today, her place at the Circle will be solidified and then she will no longer be the apprentice whom Cullen has a crush on.
She thinks, perhaps, this is why he looks as terrible as she feels inside.
Irving motions her to step towards the fount, towards Cullen. Her weary limbs obey even as her mind is still screaming that this is the single most frightening moment of her life. Her powers feel drained. She'd tossed and turned through the rest of the night before. She was going to fail.
Her hand reaches out. She can't fail. Entering the Fade is a bright flash of light and she's suddenly on the floor.
It's hard to summon without a staff, at first. She is almost taken out by a ball of energy that whizzes into her chest. She's knocked down and she can feel her strength rebuilding as she stands. She's in the Fade. Here, she can conjure anything that she needs.
After that first mishap she finds that these whisps are handled easily. Her arcane bolt is strong. She is strong.
The talking Mouse throws her, at first, before she rationalizes the fact that it's a spirit in another form. Shape shifting is not all that uncommon, after all. When the Mouse addresses her by name, she smiles. She knows that the Fade is the dream realm. She must be influencing this place.
Then again, she has no reasoning for the templar she finds.
He glowers at her, literally, and tells her his name is Duty. He lectures her too. Although he's a templar and not Cullen, NOT Cullen, he's still nice to her. Giving her tips, she actually smiles at him. He does not smile back.
"He will never love you. No templar ever will, not really."
Solona takes a four step back, tripping over Mouse and landing on her rear. Mouse squeaks. Duty covers the distance between them and growls. "Learn from those before you. If you survive this trial . . . you will never find happiness with him."
She doesn't even know what to say. When Duty throws a staff at her feet and tells her to do her job she nods, stands, and follows Mouse. She is shaking again. How can one shake in a dream realm?
The sloth demon makes her laugh.
It makes her want to lie down and nap with it but she doesn't because demons are bad even if she is exhausted. Instead she answers its silly riddles. It teaches Mouse how to change form but Mouse doesn't want to change. Solona tries to encourage the small rodent spirit that perhaps being able to shift into a bereskarn would be rather interesting. Mouse squeaks again; says that it's already got another form.
When Mouse changes into its, his, human form Solona can feel her body seize with fright. Her physical body, in the real world, where the templars are watching. Shock tightens her muscles and it's a bone-cracking pain that translates across the veil to screams of pain. Endlessly screaming it feels like.
The spirit of Shuul tries to calm her down. He tells her that if she doesn't relax the templars will kill her. She has to stop struggling against the Fade. They will kill her.
The screaming stops; Shuul is still standing there. She steps to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. He wears his robes and his smile and he is right in front of her. "How? We were told you turned into an abomination."
"No abomination. I had much the same reaction when my guide changed into his real form. The templars killed me. I am trapped, Lona."
She hugs him tightly. "Can I help?"
Shuul takes her to a Rage Demon and side by side they bring the thing down. They are smiling when the last of the ash cools; she hugs him again. "I've missed you so much."
"And I, you. How is everyone?"
Solona gives him a sad look now; loneliness. "Falling apart. Keili is talking about becoming Tranquil, Neria thinks she's going to be the next First Enchanter, and Jowan has fallen in love with a damned lay sister."
Shuul laughs and kisses her forehead. It's such a familiar motion; he's been doing this to her since they first started spending time together. She wants to cry with the joy of holding him again. However, this cannot last. If she's under too long she'll be killed anyway. She misses Shuul; she does not, however, want to spend eternity here with him. Not just yet.
"I should get back, don't you think?"
He pulls back from her, still with a smile on his face. "You did well. You still have time. Stay."
It's so tempting. He kisses her forehead again. "Just a little longer." Just a bit, she thinks, can't hurt. She hasn't been here that long, right? She's got time.
"That's right. Stay with me, here."
The world around them shifts, the tans and reds blend and merge; it's darker. Gray and brown, stone and wood. They stand in a quiet corner of the library. He cups her cheek and tips her face up to his own. They are kids again and he is going to teach her the art of making love.
Shuul is gentle; always kind and considerate. She allows his kiss to pull her deeper. Shadows hide the both of them as he lays her down. Pulls at the ties of her gown. She hasn't thought about the two of them like this, seriously, in many years.
Something feels wrong.
The way he smiles up at her . . . it lacks something. A spark, the mischief that Shuul was always in the middle of. He removes her belt, easily. Shuul always had problems with the way she ties her knots. There's a glimmer of light, just outside of the field of her vision. She turns and looks; a candle. Flickering in the middle of the library she can see the wax drip slowly to the floor. It taps out a steady beat that falls into time with her heart.
A templar watches the two of them from the other side of the flame. CullenDutyNotCullen.
Solona gasps as his fingers find her center; she is wet for him but this is not real. He can see it in her face, when she wills herself not to believe. He roars, even as he has his fingers inside of her, and his face starts to become not his face. Solona pushes back at the changing form as hard as possible.
She feels her physical body arch again and slam back down. Solona cries out. The demon, the one that's been wearing Shuul's face, laughs and Solona screams. The staff; its right next to her. Her hands find the iron and she brings it forward, sitting upwards with the movement. Her will is exploding forwards, channeled into one bolt of power. "O Maker. Grant me strength."
The world goes black.
-!-
Someone carries her. The arms are cold around her. She stirs and her hand comes up; it rests against a raised symbol. Her cheek does as well. The arms tighten and a voice tells her everything will be okay. She murmurs into the metal. The words are nonsense. She feels impossibly heavy and tired and she really should just go back to sleep.
She does not dream this time.
Solona comes to her senses slowly, the second time she awakes. Her head is killing her and she's aware that she's in a bed. Her bed? Possibly. The last of the remnants of her time in the Fade are floating away from her leaving her feeling drained. She has little energy to speak of. None, at all in fact. Flashes of Shuul and Duty laugh at her from the back of her mind. She pushes them both away and opens her eyes.
She's not in her bed. She's in a room; not a dorm but an actual bed room. It's a nice room, she thinks. Small, but serviceable. As she swings her feet off the bed and set them down solidly on the plush rug she wonders whose room it is. A mage, so long as she's still in the Tower. There are no personal articles though; just the bed, the armoire, a vanity, and a wash stand. Beneath her hands the fabric of the blanket is soft and comfortable.
She stands.
And sits right back down again with a cry of pain. Her back is absolutely killing her. She rises again, cautiously, and crosses to the mirror. Her robes are loose on her and she undoes the ties holding her bodice in place. The fabric whispers to the ground. She parts the remaining fabric and turns, exposing her back to the glass.
"Maker, what a mess." There's a line of ugly bruises running down her spine. Her right hip still has a faint greenish cast from her tumble on the stairs. She turns fully back to the mirror and inspects herself for any other damage.
A cut, already healing, crosses her left jugular. Her hand flies to the skin there, just to make sure she's not seeing things. The wound is real though. The bruises on her back are explainable. She's read about the physical reactions some mages' bodies have while their souls are in the Fade. In fact, she'd just read through an account of a woman whose body walked twenty paces and then laid back down.
The cut at her throat though: there are very few ways she could have gotten that.
Unbidden the image of the templar from her dream, his hand grasped around her throat and his sword raised, comes back to her. She is too weak to be thinking about things like this. She needs to sit down. Solona sways and stumbles backwards to the bed.
"Lona! You awake?" Her head whips around at the voice in the doorway. Neria. She tries for a smile as the elf rushes to her side and throws her arms around her. "I'm so relieved to see your smile. You have no idea. I thought- after what the templars were saying about your Harrowing. We almost lost you, Lona. What happened in there?" Neria speaks too quickly when she's excited.
She holds the elf. Solona is emotionally destroyed. She needs to sleep for a little while longer. Somewhere around a year should work, she thinks.
"C'mon! Spill it."
Neria leans back and looks directly into Solona's eyes. What she sees there displeases her. A frown crosses her face and she settles next to her friend on the bed. "Was it really so bad?"
"I understand how Shuul could have failed, now." Neria's jaw drops and she moves closer. Solona can't remain upright anymore. She allows herself to lay back and Neria follows. The embrace feels good, comforting. Solona hugs her tightly. "It was terrifying. There was a hidden demon; he tried to possess me. And I almost let him." Her eyes are burning. She's going to cry. "O Maker, I almost let him." She doesn't mention Shuul. She'll get around to telling the elf eventually but for now, she is done speaking.
Neria holds her until she falls back to sleep, the burning in her eyes dripping down her face.