Cassandra walked out of the cabin, closing the door behind her. Where could she be? She trudged down the snowy path, trying to think of where the girl might have gone. What an inopportune time to go missing, she thought dourly.

She had checked what seemed like every inch of Haven and the girl's cabin twice by now. Her absence was not only worrying, it was irritating; especially when so many important things were brewing. Cassandra was aware of how much Ahnnie disliked her new situation, but that didn't make it any less important. It was time she learned of what she had to do – no more hesitance, no more stuttering, and certainly no more procrastinating. They had all been waiting for her foot to heal, and now that it had, it was time for her to embrace the responsibilities that came along with the mark on her hand.

Then Cassandra caught sight of a familiar bulky shape from the corner of her eye. "Varric," she hailed when she faced the dwarf on the path.

"Seeker," Varric greeted back, giving her a mock bow. "How may I be of assistance?"

She ignored his faux grandiosity and went straight to the point. "Have you seen the Herald of Andraste?"

"Oh, Ahnnie? Yeah, I have."

"Where?"

He pointed with his thumb behind him. "She went on a walk with Solas outside of town. I heard them talkin' about scandalous elections and some guy named Nixon."

Cassandra couldn't care less about who 'Nixon' was. That the girl left Haven with the elf was all she needed to hear. "Maker's breath!" She shoved past Varric and stormed down the path, this time heading towards Haven's gates. The foolish girl! And that apostate – words simply couldn't describe her incredulity at the moment. Do they want to draw more suspicion on themselves? A soldier chatting idly with his colleague on the side of the path saw the angry Seeker and straightened in salutation. She ignored him. How long have they been gone for? And how often have they done this? I really should have paid more attention to her!

Ahnnie relished the crunch of boots on freshly fallen snow as she strolled beside Solas. The chill winter air swept delightfully by her cheeks and nose, tinting them with a slight reddish hue.

"And you say the Watergate scandal was considered the worst political scandal of the twentieth century? I should like to see their reactions to Orlesian nobility."

She laughed. "Well, to be fair, that was the twentieth century, as in, 1900's. It's the twenty-first century now, so maybe something worse has popped up." Ahnnie shook her head. "I don't pay much attention to politics, anyhow. Too chaotic." They then fell into another silence as their focus shifted back on the return path to Haven, the wind blowing leisurely between them.

Ever since those first talks of worlds and culture, she met up with Solas regularly to continue exchanging information. She had fun in particular trying to fit the different aspects of Thedosian cultures under Geert Hofstede's five cultural dimensions, or discussing Abraham Maslow's hierarchy of needs when trying to dissect the drive behind the players of the Grand Game. In return, she was able to learn more of the elf's fascinating journeys to the Fade through dream.

Entering the Fade! Through dream!

Ahnnie was shocked to hear that everyone did that, except for dwarves, who did not dream. It set her on edge at first when she thought of all the dreaming she'd done – Solas told her she was unconscious in the prison for two days, then for three days after sealing the first rift, and it had been nigh on three weeks since then, so she'd been here a total of four weeks – four weeks worth of dreaming and entering that accursed Fade. Some of her dreams had been rather funky, now that she thought of it...

But she relaxed when she saw how everyone around her still seemed okay though they too had Fade dreams. It was then she learned that the Fade was more than just a creepy dimension of spirits and demons; it was a repository of memories, a place able to be shaped by belief and willpower – she had only to believe in a certain thing whilst there, and it would come true. Much like in dreams on Earth, she supposed. It made her wonder whether the Fade held true for both Thedas and Earth? It must have somehow, if she'd been able to enter Thedas through a tear in it. And yet dreaming was proven to be a purely cognitive function back on Earth. Solas arched an eyebrow when he heard that scientists, through brainwave tests, proved dreaming occurred during a phase known as rapid eye movement sleep and originated in some part of the brain, drawing on memory to construct the dream. A person born blind, for example, could not dream visually but audibly, because they had never known sight to begin with but had plenty of sound memories to draw from.

"Perhaps that explains why there is no magic in your world," Solas then suggested. "Still, it does sound as though some characteristics of the Fade are present in Earth dreams. As for a blind person's experience in the Fade...I have yet to hear of it, though I imagine it would be rather interesting."

But as much as Solas was willing to divulge on his dreams (sleeping in ruins to experience their history? Now that's new, Ahnnie thought), he seemed reticent about giving full details of his past. For all this talk of the Fade, the only things Ahnnie knew about him personally was that he grew up in a small village, left it to travel the wilderness and experience more of the Fade, and was his own teacher when it came to magic. Nothing quite as detailed as her monologue three weeks prior, but that was all right – not everyone was willing to spill so much at a time. It still baffled her sometimes that she trusted so much to him in the first place, but she didn't dwell on it.

And yet, chatting with Solas was not all that she'd been up to. Perhaps he had talked Cassandra, for a Chantry sister named Sister Magdelene showed up one day with books and paper and began tutoring her on how to read and write in Common. She had come to the cabin in consideration of the girl's foot, but Ahnnie soon alternated between the cabin and a room in the Chantry to make it more convenient for the nun. Under Sister Magdelene's tutelage, she was able to catch onto the runic Common fairly soon; it shared similar sounds to the English alphabet, with some differences and tweaks (some of which she still puzzled over, such as two or three runes for a certain sound to be alternated when used in a certain way), but by the end of the first week she was able to slowly read passages in the Chant of Light.

Sister Magdelene encouraged her to keep a journal handy and often assigned her writing projects in a separate notebook to assist in accuracy and penmanship. Ahnnie pounced at this chance to keep her own journal, writing more in the English alphabet than the Common runes, yet still alternating between the two. She mostly wrote down things about Earth so that she wouldn't forget – song lyrics, current and historic events, memories, anything she knew that she could think of to put into writing – sometimes whole entries in grammatically choppy Vietnamese, for the threat of forgetfulness loomed ominously in her mind. When she got ahold of sketching charcoals, she added illustrations to that collection, some of which she showed Solas when she thought they might interest him. They ranged from cultural costumes and everyday clothes to buildings, household appliances, and automobiles. If at any time she was grateful for good drawing skills, it was now.

Between that and visiting Netta and Lady at the Singing Maiden, Ahnnie believed herself to be having quite an enjoyable time. She was making good progress with Lady, getting the dog to accept food by hand from both her and Netta. And when Adan and Nala came by, she was able to get the skittish elf girl to call her "Lady Ahnnie" rather than "my lady" or "Lady Herald" – not complete familiarity, but acceptable for now. Varric occasionally popped by to see how she was doing and would sometimes listen to stories of her world, though if he believed in any of it, he did not seem to show.

When Ahnnie and Solas neared the gates of Haven, the guards pulled the doors to let them in. She was still in a cheery mood as the gates slowly swung open, unaware of an angry female figure standing there with her arms crossed. When the female figure was revealed in full, Ahnnie jolted in shock and immediately felt afraid.

"C-Cassandra," she stammered, "um...hi..."

From the look on the Seeker's face, it seemed as though she had much to answer for.

"It was just this once," Ahnnie insisted. "Honest. You can ask the guards; they'll swear this is the only time they ever let us out. Plus, we were in sight of the gates the whole time."

"And Chancellor Roderick will swear that you've been out plotting the destruction of the world," Cassandra put in flatly. "I may have dismissed him as a scholar, but that doesn't mean we should give him more cause to dislike the Inquisition. He is, most unfortunately, head of the Chantry now."

"Him? But I thought..."

"Everyone who outranked him was killed in the explosion. So until the remaining grand clerics can elect a new Divine, he is the de facto leader of the Chantry."

The Seeker was pleased to see that the realization had shaken her, as her pale face indicated. However, Cassandra was not cruel; she assured the girl a moment later that the Inquisition operated separately from the Chantry. They simply should not give the Chancellor more fuel for his misgivings, was all.

But perhaps she should be more worried about Solas. Cassandra was not as distrusting of mages as most people were, but there was no denying the fact that he had no Circle credentials and that his area of magical study was one upon which the Chantry frowned. He was useful, that was true; his knowledge of the Fade could help them seal the Breach. But if he so much as stepped out of line, Cassandra didn't think even her authority as Seeker or the Herald's new prestige could keep him safe in Andrastian territory.

"It was all my idea," Ahnnie apologized at last. "I'm sorry. I thought it was fine since everyone seemed okay with Solas by now...That is, I told them it would be okay, because I trusted him. So, he had nothing to do with it."

"I understand," Cassandra sighed. "What is done has been done. Solas will not be facing any repercussions, if that is what you fear." Still, she was going to have a word with him about it later. She also supposed she shouldn't be surprised that the girl used her title to gain what she wanted. Ahnnie was inexperienced, but not naive; not as far as Cassandra could tell, anyway. But that was for another time. For now, they had to focus on the matter at hand. "Since your health has been cleared by Adan, it is time you learned to fight."

They stopped by a group of soldiers who were practicing their swordcraft, metal clashing and clanging as the blades struck. Ahnnie flinched when she saw sparks fly from the swords of a pair of soldiers closest to them.

"Not with real weapons, of course," Cassandra assured her. "At least, not right away. But if we are to succeed in sealing the Breach, then it is essential that you know how to defend yourself."

Ahnnie nodded. "I understand," she answered, her voice grim.

"Good." Cassandra looked the girl up and down in appraisal. "We will do what we can to accommodate your body to combat. Of course, it will not be easy – you have not trained as these soldiers trained, so you will not be used to the exercise. Most likely you will find it very uncomfortable. It is not impossible, however; recruits have been picked out from older people, and have done just fine."

"You're forgetting the amount of time spent training such recruits," a familiar voice chimed in, "and the fact that they are picked from people such as farmers, who are no strangers to physical exertion."

Cassandra turned around. "Leliana," she greeted.

Leliana stepped up to them and returned Cassandra's greeting with her title. "I see we're finally getting onto combat training," she said when she turned to Ahnnie. "As Cassandra mentioned, it will be difficult, yet can still be done. We're not looking for mastery; but rather, competency. Forcing you to learn too much will result in getting you nowhere. And yet, we have a narrow time frame with which to do it."

"We've discussed this," Cassandra added, "and so rather than make you learn a standard weapon, you shall be trained according to whatever fits you better."

"Well...that does make sense," Ahnnie remarked.

Then Leliana suddenly grabbed hold of her right hand, studying it. "A pity," she sighed. "You have such smooth, uncalloused hands..." Her grey-blue eyes shifted over to the girl's confused brown ones, their intent indiscernible. "You could have made a worthwhile bard."

Ahnnie jerked slightly in the spymaster's grasp as a bewildered look overcame her. Leliana chuckled. "It seems you know what a bard is," she commented. "But of course, there isn't enough time to teach you that profession." She gently let down the girl's hand. "Nor do you have the right mentality. You should prepare yourself, however; your hands will hurt like hell for the next few days."

Cassandra had suspected that the girl led a sheltered life, so that came as no surprise to her. "We will begin with a series of tests using fake or blunted versions of different weapons," she announced. "The weapon you are most comfortable with will be the one for you to train in." She drew out two wooden swords from a nearby barrel and handed one to Ahnnie. "I will go easy on you but you are to come at me seriously, as if you mean to hurt me. If you do not..." The Seeker crouched into a fighting stance, the fake weapon held in both hands. "...then I will make you."

Ahnnie felt her muscles tense as she watched Cassandra advance on her. It was like reliving the fights with the demons, only in a completely different way; Cassandra was coming for her. It was not a brutish demon standing opposite her but a seasoned warrior, much more skilled and experienced than she was.

The thought was intimidating, made more so by the Seeker's glaring eyes. Though she promised to go easy, she probably didn't realize her face looked anything but easy. Ahnnie froze in place as she tried to think of what to do. Stand my ground, let her swipe, take her open side...And then Cassandra was upon her, and she barely blocked the Seeker's swing with her sword. Is she really going easy on me? Ahnnie wondered. That blow was hard! She jumped back a step to keep some distance between them and jabbed out at Cassandra's side as planned.

The Seeker dodged and lunged in with an elbow, knocking Ahnnie's hands aside and disarming her almost immediately.

As the wooden sword fell uselessly to the ground, a few soldiers who were taking breaks perked up at the noise and watched the pair with interest. Ahnnie's cheeks burned as she felt their eyes on her back and heard a few chuckles.

Without a word, Cassandra grabbed a wooden shield and blunted mace and equipped the girl with the items. For herself, she made do with a blunted sword and another wooden shield. After giving a few pointers on how to wield a mace, she lunged in again and Ahnnie instinctively brought up the shield to prevent the attack from connecting.

Thwap! The sword banged against the shield, sending vibrations through her arm that clattered her very teeth. Ahnnie brought up the mace a moment later, but it was a moment too late, for as she lowered the shield to see where she should strike her opponent, the sight of the blade so near her face made her freeze and Cassandra successfully disarmed her again.

And so the process would repeat with a variety of other handheld weapons; axes, hammers, flails...they tried other swords, such as the short sword, falchion, and saber, and it even seemed as though Cassandra went easier on her than before. But no matter what Ahnnie used to defend herself, the Seeker would always manage to disarm her in record time.

Is this really necessary? she wondered as her weapon flew out of her hands for the umpteenth time. Can they really tell if I'm 'comfortable' with a weapon this way? Why can't they just pick one already and train me in it? Then I won't have this stupid problem.

She was about ready to give up until Leliana handed her a quarterstaff. A different type of weapon was certainly a refreshing sight, and Ahnnie couldn't think of ways for Cassandra to disarm her with something like a stave. Not unless she was able to get close, of course – and Ahnnie couldn't let her do that. As she held the quarterstaff in her hands, she felt a marked difference from the other weapons, and it wasn't just from being another type; since the weight was more evenly distributed along the shaft, the weapon felt balanced, more manageable. Its length, running about six feet long, seemed perfect to her for keeping enemy weapons at bay. She mentally shuddered as she remembered the proximity with which Cassandra's blade had come to her.

Satisfied, Ahnnie turned back around to face Cassandra again. As always, the Seeker gave her helpful hints on how to use the different weapons she came to hold, but Ahnnie could already tell some of the quarterstaff's basics from its shape; pretty much blunt damage enforced by the ends, in punishing jabs or whacks.

Ahnnie stood her ground once more as Cassandra stopped pacing to come rushing at her. As she drew close, Ahnnie moved the quarterstaff in a quick jab at the woman's shoulder, opposite the side where she brandished her blade. Cassandra slapped it aside before it could connect and Ahnnie followed up with a flanking blow on the other side. Her heart leapt with joy when she realized that she had made her first hit. As Cassandra tried to maneuver around the quarterstaff, she was able to score several more hits and even one block to the sword before the Seeker snuck in on an open side and held the blade at her back; not roughly, but firmly enough to let her know that this segment of the test was finished.

It lasted perhaps ten seconds overall, but it was the longest Ahnnie had been able to hold out against Cassandra. When they both separated and put their weapons aside, Leliana took up the quarterstaff and eyed it carefully.

"It seems polearms are more of your type," she remarked a while later. "You prefer a long reach with the ability to keep your opponent at bay...is that correct?"

Ahnnie nodded. "At least, I didn't know I did until now."

Leliana nodded back thoughtfully. "Of course, it's a good compensation for your height, and the balance is better for your body..." She trailed off, turning the quarterstaff in her hands as if to inspect it for a hidden blemish. "Glaive-guisarme," she suddenly said. "Standard shaft, lighter blade – that's the weapon for you."

"What?"

"Orlesian," the spymaster clarified. "A polearm with a curved blade and hook on the reverse side to catch other blades in combat, or other riders if on horseback. A bladed end wouldn't be so bad, either. I'll make a note to the blacksmith to craft one. It will take several days, perhaps less if it's not too much trouble to rework this quarterstaff, but you will train with a halberd in the meantime."

"That's great," Ahnnie commented, "but...why craft a new one? Can't I just learn with a halberd?"

"Halberds are more about cleaving movements," Leliana explained. "You seem like you would be better accustomed to rounded slashing movements, which the curved blade of the glaive-guisarme is better for, in addition to cleaving; then there is the added benefit of the hook." She put the quarterstaff aside and continued, "The point for now is to learn the basics of polearms. There are universal rules for wielding them, regardless of the blade. Then once you start specializing in one, the difference is simply in knowing which movement goes best with the blade shape." When the girl still seemed confused, Leliana assured her, "It will all become apparent once you get better."

"And in order to get better, you must start somewhere," Cassandra put in. "You will now take your first lesson with Corporal Hargrave, our polearms expert. You are to report to him every morning after breakfast and train until he dismisses you for the day."

Ahnnie nodded. "All right. Sounds good to me."

And with that, Cassandra took her across the training ground to where Corporal Hargrave stood supervising some soldiers in their polearm practice. He was a tall man with well-built legs, and when he turned around to regard them, Ahnnie noticed he also possessed the bushiest mustache she'd ever seen.

Cassandra took him aside to exchange a few words before she pushed Ahnnie towards him and left. There was an awkward moment when he suddenly scolded a few soldiers who had stopped to gawk, his booming voice freezing her into an attentive stance though the training had not yet begun. When he finished, he gave her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that," he said, his mustache dancing to life. "Now then, Herald of Andraste – you've chosen the way of the polearm. I'm honored. But first, a few ground rules." He held up a finger for every point he made. "One: there will be no special treatment. I'll train you as I train the rest of my men. Two: an order is an order. And, three: if I don't think you're finished, I'll keep running you 'till you're finished. Understood?"

She nodded wordlessly.

"What's that?" he asked, a hand to his ear.

"Yes, sir."

"I can't hear you."

Ahnnie pursed her lips, her face already reddening at the thought of yelling out the acknowledgment while other people were close by. But that was what he was looking for. "Yes, sir!" she bellowed out a moment later, her voice cracking a bit towards the end.

Hargrave chuckled. "Fair enough." He grabbed a halberd off a weapon rack and tossed it vertically in her direction; she made an awkward scrabble for the shaft and it bumped right into the middle of her face. While she was busy rubbing her forehead and nose, Hargrave barked for one of the soldiers to continue leading the drill. Then he took her to one side, and with another halberd in hand, shed all traces of a smile from his face. "We will focus first on basic stances..."

Corporal Hargrave was a tough but fair teacher. He held true to every point he made, treating those under his command equally, expecting orders to be obeyed as he made them, and hounding Ahnnie relentlessly on her weak points, which were many.

But polearms training was not the only training Ahnnie received in the upcoming days.

After the first three lessons, Cassandra decided to pitch in as her trainer for swordsmanship. It came about after Hargrave noted that while most infantry soldiers used polearms to break enemy defenses, they kept swords as sidearms in case combat got too close for comfort, and so it would be a great handicap not to know how to handle a sword. Therefore, after polearms lessons, which could often go as long as four hours, she followed up with an hour-long session of sword training.

It was actually from there that she reunited with the short sword she'd used at the Temple of Sacred Ashes; a soldier had picked it up after the demons disappeared and kept it safe until she should need it again, perhaps assuming it belonged to her in the first place. She had not been sure whether it really was that very short sword, as it looked no different from the others on the weapon rack; but however it came about, Ahnnie felt a little proud as she unbuckled it every day from her belt and placed it in the chest by the fireplace, where the rest of her things were.

After which she would flop into bed bruised, battered, and aching, and proceed to fall into heavy sleep though the day was not yet finished. After that first lesson with Hargrave, she felt as sore as though she'd just run the national mile. He had not only taught her the basic stances, smacking wayward limbs into place with the butt end of his halberd, but also ran her through warm ups and stretching exercises she hadn't seen since the last time she took P.E. Sore soon became a constant feeling that never went away.

As Leliana predicted, her hand also became tight with blisters and calluses. It was so uncomfortable she asked Hargrave if she could wear gloves while training, but he denied her outright, seeing this as an opportunity to develop pain tolerance. It was only when the blisters burst that he allowed her to use gloves, though she could still feel the pain through them anyway. What made it worse was that, on every other day, she could only catch two hours worth of z's before horseback riding lessons started.

It wasn't that she disliked horses; in fact, the first time Cassandra brought her to the livery stables, her inner girly girl gave a squeal of delight upon meeting the animals and receiving her first lessons on caring for them. However, when it got to the actual horseback riding, which initially started in a round pen before taking place on the endless trails outside Haven, she would end the day not only sore in the arms, hands, and back, but cramped in the legs and, ahem, buttocks.

It was an altogether torturous week. She was lucky her lessons with Sister Magdelene were slowing to a close, for she didn't think she could stay alive after going through all that punishing training and trying to focus on reading and writing assignments at the same time. The sleeping she did in between was her only solace; without it, she barely seemed to have time for anything else, much less the energy.

Then, one day after her combat training, Solas approached her while she lay incapacitated on one of the low stone walls running throughout Haven, too exhausted to even start the walk back to her cabin.

"Tired, aren't we?" he asked with a smile on his face.

Ahnnie raised herself slowly into a sitting position to see who had addressed her. "Oh, Solas," she breathed. "Hi..."

The elf settled himself down on the wall next to her and stared thoughtfully out at Haven for a moment, before saying, "I see you have been rather busy these past few days."

Ahnnie wondered if it was because they hadn't had the chance to talk since the day Cassandra first whisked her into training. "Kind of. It's mostly used for sleeping, though," she admitted.

Solas chuckled. "Of course – sleep is important when training. Has it given you any noteworthy encounters in the Fade?"

She grimaced. "Haha, very funny." He was aware of how fearful she was of the Fade, after all, even though she had come to terms with Thedosian dreams.

"While I do jest, I am also quite serious."

Ahnnie suddenly became more alert than before. She straightened her posture and looked at the elf with widened eyes. "Why? Am I more vulnerable now, or...?"

"Quite the contrary." He gestured briefly at her left hand. "You are probably now more capable than before when it comes to the Fade."

"Oh, my mark..."

"That, and magic."

Ahnnie blinked, his intent now dawning upon her. "You're saying that I can use magic?"

"Why not?" Solas asked back. "Mages tap into the Fade when casting their spells, and your mark ties you to it."

She looked at her left hand, then back at Solas. "But I thought magic is hereditary? When you explained the Circles and how they apprentice children who have the gift..."

"Using your mark to seal rifts is a form of magic," he reminded her. And then he went on, "Even if you can't achieve the same mastery as an actual mage, you might be able to do something. I have been pondering that for a while, in addition to..."

The thought of being able to do magic seemed exciting and daunting at the same time. It was the very subject of novels and movies back home, a wondrous thing of imagination that people wished they could achieve – perhaps better left that way, as it also had the potential to be grossly misused. But when Solas trailed off, Ahnnie became apprehensive. "To what?" she asked.

He frowned. "I have been thinking...and it might actually be possible...but I...I believe you to be Trevelyan's parallel," he finished at last.

"You mean, the guy who got lost in the Fade?"

"Exactly," he affirmed. "Of course, there is every chance that the fact you exchanged places with him is completely random. However, there is just as much of a chance that the die was not cast blindly."

Upon hearing that, Ahnnie's brows deepened in anger. "Who would do such a thing?" she asked, her voice suddenly passionate. "That's just messed up! Playing with people's lives like that...That's...!"

The elf gave her a curious expression, but she did not notice that in her fervor. "I never meant to say it was someone's fault," he said at last. "Perhaps I used the wrong words. What I'm referring to is something beyond mortal ken."

"Spirits, then?" and he couldn't miss the ironic emphasis on 'spirits'.

"More like forces," Solas rebutted. "There is more about the Fade that I've yet to know, though I have learned much." He tilted his head inquisitively. "Would you like to know what I've found out about Trevelyan?"

Ahnnie paused, reflecting on her earlier words, before giving a sigh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I guess I was just tired. But yes, I'd like to hear what you found."

Solas nodded. "Where his coloring is fair, yours is dark. He has blue eyes, blond hair – you, brown eyes and black hair. Where he is known to be rambunctious and daring, you are reserved and cautious. Where he has led a life of service as a templar, your life is – or has been – one of little to no physical activity." Ahnnie raised a questioning eyebrow, but before she could ask anything, Solas finished with, "And where you have an affinity for dogs, Trevelyan prefers cats."

She was so taken aback by this last revelation that after staring wordlessly at the elf for several seconds, she burst into hearty laughter. It took her a while before she could calm down but Solas was patient, simply smiling at her as she released her mirth. "Ho god!" she breathed as she began to slow down. "Oh – god – sorry," she apologized as she wiped a tear from her eye. "I didn't mean to, I swear. It's just..." She giggled again before clearing out her throat. "Hurm. Right. So, um...Trevelyan is basically my opposite?"

"That is another way to look at it," Solas nodded. "I used 'parallel' to describe a connection between the both of you; I haven't found out everything about him, but the evidence for now seems to point in that direction. It is more deliberate than random mischance, no?"

Ahnnie thought about it for a moment. "Yeah, you're right," she acknowledged. "So then...do you think he's still alive? Is he even in Thedas, or..."

"If he is truly your parallel, then he might be somewhere in your world," Solas supplied. "Assuming, of course, that each parallel must be alive at the same moment. Which I have not yet confirmed," he quickly added when he saw the horror on the girl's face.

She nodded. "Of course." Then, remembering something, she asked, "What about my hand? If he was there when the Breach was created, shouldn't he be the one to have it? Why did I get it?"

"I have pondered that as well," Solas admitted. "It is rather puzzling..." He frowned, then shook his head when an explanation was not forthcoming. "But never mind it for now." He shifted from his spot on the wall, preparing to stand. "In the meantime, what do you say to a little magic practice? See if you have any capabilities for wielding mana?"

At least she knew what mana was, from the fantasy books she read and the few games she'd played. Still, she was doubtful. "What if...I get possessed by a demon?"

He gave her a wry smile. "There are ways to guard oneself against demons and their temptations. If things were as you feared, I would have been possessed long ago." Upon seeing her remorseful expression, he assured her that he would teach her these techniques if she was able to wield magic that far. "But it would be far in the future before you do reach that point, if ever," he added. "You come from a world without magic in the first place, and I don't intend on giving you a full tutelage. Still, a little magic will come in handy, especially for what you have to do."

"I suppose," she relented.

"Very well. We'll start tomorrow after you've rested from combat training."

Ahnnie watched Solas' disappearing form as he walked away, wondering briefly what such lessons would entail, before reclining back down on the wall to continue her nap.

A/N: Polearms need more love. I got the inspiration after learning that the ko-naginata was often used by women during Japan's feudal era.