Chapter 50

The Devil Within

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Kallian tried to go back to sleep, to push the headache away, but every time she closed her eyes, a monstrous thunder would tear through the skies, nearly knocking the little elf off the bed. The wind blew the cloth door like a fluttering flag on top of a mast, and the noise was so loud that she thought that the sound alone would explode her head - it was a veritable symphony of small pebbles crashing into empty barrels.

It was not pleasant.

She cowered under the blankets, covering her closed eyes. She knew that the night was already lost, so all that was left was the hope that she might get rid of the migraine if she stayed very still in her bed, breathing just enough to keep her heart beating.

Only when she felt the presence of the two Wardens together did she finally relax, allowing her body to shut down from reality now and then. Wet and noisy steps inside the tent brought Kallian out of this trance, a few hours later.

Her eyes met Lanaya's almost immediately.

The Dalish had a thick blanket over her shoulders protecting her from the rain, and her wet hair was plastered on her face. She glanced around the cramped space, and her brow furrowed when she couldn't seem to find what she was looking for.

"Where is Eilleen?" Lanaya asked, peering outside the tent as if expecting to see her friend showing up at any moment.

"It depends," Kallian said, covering her eyes again. The candlelight was weak, but it was still enough to stoke her headache. "Who's asking - you, or your boss?"

Lanaya lowered her head, letting out a sarcastic chuckle. "You always have an answer for everything, didn't you?"

"I try." Kallian shrugged under the blankets.

"Actually, it was a rhetorical question," Lanaya said, tying the ends of the cloth door on stakes carved into the ground to keep it in place. "It's good we are alone. I have business with you."

"Going to take advantage of the fact that Eilleen is not here to kill me and burn my remains?" Kallian blurted and Lanaya flinched, squinting toward the redhead as she walked to her bed. "I know things."

"Should have thought so, considering what you are," Lanaya crossed her arms, leaning back against the empty bed. She sighed. "You don't like me, that's clear, but regardless of what you think, I'm doing the best I can to keep the balance here."

"And as a good mediator, you say what people need to hear, when they need to hear it, to get what you want," Kallian said in a gruff voice, her throat itching with a cough that she was trying to suppress.

"Like saying to Zathrian that I would kill you, just to calm him and prolong your life," Lanaya concluded. "The way I will deal with you, starting today, will not rely on anything I said or did before, but on the conversation we will have now. " She uncrossed her arms, trying to relax her tense shoulders, but failed miserably. "I suggest you think carefully before you lie to me."

Kallian was not the kind of person who felt intimidated by anything, but she felt suddenly tense in the face of the firm and hard way that Lanaya was leading the conversation. She didn't like it, but nodded anyway - it was not wise to instigate more enmity with her than already existed.

"Tell me about the mark on your back," Lanaya requested without delay, looking deep into her eyes, and Kallian froze in place.

"It's a tattoo," Kallian lied, trying to sound more convincing than she actually felt. "A mistake of my youth."

"Yes, because it's very common to inject tattoos made of Lyrium in children." She rolled her eyes impatiently. "Spare me your excuses - I took care of you, I healed you. Nothing you say can change what I felt."

"... Honestly, I don't know what you expect me to say." Kallian had the voice of a cornered animal, but even so, she forced her body into a sitting position, to make her fell less vulnerable. "If nothing I say will change your opinion about this bullshit, then this conversation is pointless."

"Bullshit?" Lanaya asked incredulously.

"Lyrium makes people crazy, addicted, violent ..." The little elf said, remembering all the nights she'd spent in Denerim's library, reading about Lyrium and its effects on people. She learned a lot, that was true, but nothing to help her remove it from her flesh. "Nobody in their right mind would put Lyrium in their own skin. You are confusing things."

"There is a disturbance in the balance every time you're around, as if the veil of the Fade was torn," Lanaya ignored the comment and Kallian felt a chill down her spine. Lanaya was not bluffing - she knew what that meant, and didn't intend to leave until she got all the answers that the little elf was not willing to give. "This is dark magic."

Kallian chuckled, trying to fake sarcasm. "See how your argument is flawed? I'm not even a mage!"

"But you are still alive, even with that poison running through your veins."

"I have immunity, and this had been proven befo..."

"He is keeping you alive," Lanaya cut, her voice acidic as a lemon. She was not expecting an answer.

Kallian knew what she was talking about, but pretended she did not. "Who?"

"The vile creature who watches you from the other side of the veil." She got up and walked slowly towards Kallian's bed, running her finger lightly over the blackened veins covering her neck. "Somehow, you made a pact with a demon, and the master is protecting its servant."

"I made no pact..."

"Any mage with minimal perception is able to realize this." She returned to her initial position, sitting on the edge of the adjacent bed, with an unwavering skepticism on her face. It reminded Kallian of Lenna Hawke, and the aggressive way they had parted.

May the Maker have mercy on your friends, she'd said. Had Hawke suspected about the demon, too? Had she went as far as Lanaya was now going?

She'd found out about the Lyrium on her own, and Kallian still didn't know how. Now the First was questioning her about the same thing. She had never been asked that before, and suddenly it seemed that every mage in Thedas knew about her.

She felt trapped.

Had Zathrian concluded the same thing?

"There's too much dark energy tied to your presence and in the way you react to magic," Lanaya continued. "I may not understand exactly what it is, in fact, but I know blood magic when I see it."

"I'm not a blood mage..." Kallian growled between her teeth, as if ready to bite the First.

"Your scars condemn you!" Lanaya grabbed Kallian's arm and lifted it just enough to expose the almost invisible white lines covering much of the skin along herherwrist.

In response, Kallian pulled her arm back violently, and her growl was louder than the storm outside, "I AM NOT A BLOOD MAGE!"

The silence that followed was not absolute because of the cough crisis that hit the little elf. She could the taste of the blood on her tongue as her body tried to expel her lungs through her mouth. She only felt better after Lanaya interfered with her magic.

Despite appearances and aggressiveness, Lanaya was not interested in her worst, only in answers.

"So talk to me, Kallian. Give me explanations, convince me otherwise; Because I can't see any other answer."

Lanaya's voice was sweet, almost like a plea - as if she actually wanted to be proved wrong. However, Kallian remained silent. In her head, a thousand thoughts were going on at the same time - She was wondering about her goals, about her intention. How much was safe to reveal, what she should hide, and most importantly: what would Lanaya do with that information?

But Lanaya didn't wait very long for her repsonse - she shook her head, disappointed, and started walking towards the exit. "You leave me no choice, city girl. As much as it hurts me to turn my back, I will inform Eilleen of my decision. I refuse to take care of a blood magic user."

Kallian hesitated for a few seconds, her mouth filled with the taste of the blood that dripped from her lips, where her teeth had drilled while thinking about her options.

She had no choice.

"Wait!" Kallian finally called before the First could loose the nodes of the cloth door . "Okay..."

Mahariel

We descended into the darkness, step after step, in a bitter and uncomfortable silence. Endless curves, corridors and stairways passed since we entered into the ruin; deeply enough to completely silence the noise of the rain outside. All I heard was the sound of our own footsteps, loud and hesitant, echoing off the stone walls.

While walking, my hands shook tightly, like a nervous tic. The ruin seemed alive, with the same breath and heartbeat of a living being. It was as if everything around us had eyes and ears, stifling my breathing and stealing my air.

But that was not the cause of my nervousness.

Instead, it was the man who was walking right behind me.

Noah had his eyes fixed on the path ahead, quiet, and more indifferent than ever. It was as if all his previous heat and passion were gone, and now ice ran through his veins, leaving a trail of frozen air in his wake. It was ridiculous - while I couldn't not think about the last few minutes of my life, he seemed unshakable. Incidentally, nothing seemed to be able to shake him, ever. While it irritated me deeply, it also hurt me a bit.

Part of me wanted him to care... to think about it, at least a little. If not for me, then for what had just happened. Which after all, was no small thing.

At least, for me it was not. By Creators, I was shaking so much…

And I tell you this: For the first time I was grateful for the dim light of the place. Considering my previous experience with ruins, I must say they are not one of my favorite places. In fact, anywhere underground made me anxious. But even so, I was feeling safe under the weak reddish flames. They not only camouflaged my occasional glances back, but also hid my insistent tick.

Not that I wanted to look at him, or was waiting for some recognition, but ... I needed to know if he was still there. If he was still following me, I mean.

And he was. Cold as snow, but he was there.

I always wanted him to leave me alone - to not talk to me nor look me in the eyes, and even to ignore my existence if it were possible. All because he was a violent and crude human, a living symbol of the oppression and slavery of my people, and all I wanted was distance.

Now I had what I so craved, and the strangest thing of all was that it was not what I wanted, after all.

Noah

"This is a trap," I said after crossing the third corridor, long and empty toward the Maker only knows where. Beyond the hollow sound of our footsteps, it was now possible to hear hoarse grunts and restrained growls from within the heart of the ruin, which grew louder as we went along. I was aware that we were literally putting our hands inside the wolf's mouth, and nothing could convince me otherwise.

Among all the various glances thrown over her shoulder in my direction - each one discrete and short, with a brief imperceptible shake of the head - this was the longest. The light from the torches nailed to the stone walls, weak and almost nonexistent, would have been enough to hide them, if not for her eyes giving her away.

These bright and expressive eyes that glowed in the dark every time they met mine, even if only obliquely, like the last spark of life from a candle flame, placed on the window sill before being extinguished by the morning dew.

It's an elf thing.

The problem was that just watching at her, even if only from behind, reminded the way she looked at me after we kissed - Two faceted emeralds that blazed like an inferno, wrapped in fire and desire, which alone were able to make every nerve in my body twist violently.

And me? I was weak. Could not look at her, even without her noticing, and not have all kinds of memories evoked - memories that I needed so urgently to forget. It was sick - If I fixated my eyes on her hair, I soon felt the texture of those curls, and the scent of her neck mixed with rain ... If I were to stare at her back (why do the Dalish had so short battle clothes, anyway?) the sensation came to me, the feel of her soft skin on my fingers ... It was impossible to concentrate.

I had to focus on my goal. Had to remind myself that if I failed to find Witherfang, she would die. She and the little elf would die. All of them would.

I could not let that happen. I could not stand to be alone again.

So, in the end, the pitch of the corridor proved a more reliable partner than her. I could simply face the nothingness and keep walking, and everything would be fine. The stone and dirt had no curves or legs to distract me.

Legs ... Seriously, what do the Dalish have against pants?

"It's like ..." She said in the echoing silence, her voice low and insecure, and again my nerves collapsed. It was the same tone she'd used when she called my name, vulnerable and pleading, and all I wanted (besides the obvious), was to slam my head against the wall and pray that I might faint, just to make this feeling go away."Everything in this place is meant to guide us here."

The second part made me notice the seriousness hidden in her voice, and that brought my focus back a bit. I had also noticed the same thing - the doors were open, and the way the torches lit our way, led me to believe that they were drawing a route for us. As if something or someone, was leading the proverbial sheep to the slaughter.

"Should I remind you that this was your idea?" I pointed out, rolling my eyes. I would have come here anyway, but she did not need to know that.

"I don't remember forcing you to follow me," she said, suddenly stopping.

I also stopped before we could bump into each other. It wasn't like I needed to touch her more than I had already done, not if I wanted to keep what was left of my self-control.

I grunted, and didn't answer. She looked at me, that inquisitive and enigmatic way, as a hunter forcing her vision to find their prey in the dark, but she wasn't mad. Which was strange.

I'd not gotten used to this odd and sudden change of attitude. I knew how to deal with her hatred, knew how rebut her anger and how to respond to provocations, but not to this.

It was as if, suddenly, she was in a neutral and calm position. In a centered place, where all was faced with patience and curiosity, with the serenity of a monk. And I didn't know how to handle it.

It was easier when she'd repelled me.

Shortly afterward, we resumed our walk in silence. And the bad part of the silence was that time passed ever more slowly, crawling like a stone being pushed by the wind. The sound of our footsteps didn't help much - seemed like the anxious tick of a clock, waiting for something to happen, something that depended on me alone, and I was clueless.

And when she opened her mouth, I regretted having repudiated the silence.

"About ..." She said with a faintly timid voice. "About what happened ..."

"If we agree that this is a trap," I cut in, more loudly than my usual tone. "Why don't we just turn around and head back to the surface?"

"That's not what I ..."

"The sounds of the grunts are increasing." I hastened back. "Retreating would be the most logical thing to do."

"The doors closed minutes after we passed through them," she replied, and from her tone of voice, I knew she had rolled her eyes.

"How did you ...?" I thought aloud, and she immediately pointed to her own ears, without looking back. "Forget it."

She faced me, askance.

"How long will you ignore me?" she asked, but before she could turn around, I threw her cloak over her shoulders, covering her head (and her curves) on purpose. The distraction worked, because she stumbled, seemingly unbalanced by the weight of the wet leather and sodden fur over her small body.

"What..?" She settled in, but when she did, I was a few steps ahead, facing a huge wooden door, which almost touched the ceiling of the place.

The only closed door we'd found since we entered the ruins.

I looked back one last time, with my hands resting on the doorknob. By the somber look on her face, she was beginning to understand the seriousness of the moment. The growlings, now strong and fierce, came exactly from that room, and they were not only a few. Once opened, only the Maker would know what would become of us.

There was no turning back, though - the doors, as she had said, were locked. Our only option was to keep moving foward, or sit on the floor of that cold hallway and wait for death.

Her emerald eyes were determined and firm, and that was enough for me to understand her decision. I saw her nodding, squeezing the cloak over her shoulders tightly, before facing the door again.

If I die ... at least I'll have something beautiful to remember before leaving.

"You called me to talk, but all you've offered me so far was silence," Lanaya said, crossing her arms for the thousandth time since she entered the tent. "If your intention is to gain time ..."

"You came to me, accusing me of several things," Kallian replied, still feeling cornered. "I'm taking this all in."

"Creating more excuses, you mean." Lanaya uncrossed her arms. "Again."

Maybe this arm crossing and uncrossing was some sort of tic, Kallian thought.

"I'm not..." Kallian stopped talking at the stormy look directed at her from the First. "Fine. Ask your questions," she sighed, defeated. "But it would help if you stopped doing that." She pointed to the First's arms, which quickly returned to her sides before she could cross them again.

"Sorry," Lanaya said, blushing slightly. She cleared her throat before continuing. "So ... You say you're not a Bloodmage …"

"I'm not!" she replied, indignantly. "Really, can't you mages recognize each other when you see one?"

"Sometimes we can, yes." Lanaya seemed to think for a moment, then shook her head, pushing the thought away. "Tell me about your mark then. How did you do that if you're not a mage?"

"I didn't," she answered promptly. "Someone else did. A mage ... "

'So you admit that this is an result of blood magic?' Her voice was rough again, as she pointed to Kallian's mark.

"When you put it that way..." She looked at the ground slowly, leaving the last word echoing in the air. "But it was against my will."

"It doesn't matter who put it there." Lanaya leaned forward slightly, as if studying the lost look on Kallian's face. She wanted to hear her justifications, while watching for any deceit in the redhead's eyes. "The fact is that the lyrium mark is there, and you are benefitting from it, regardless."

Kallian raised her head again, and something in the look of the little elf caused part of Lanaya's iron will to crumble. Her eyes were dark, stained with tiredness, sadness, and even pain - which clearly was not just coming from the intensity of her headaches. The mask had fallen, and she would no longer evade the questions. Kallian was willing to stand her ground - would not let anyone put pressure on her like that, let alone accuse her of crimes she did not commit, not without a fight.

And Lanaya saw the determination in her eyes when their gazes met. And more than that, she saw the sign that she'd sought when they'd first began to talk - but she had not expected to find sincerity rather than fallacies.

"It does not benefit me," Kallian replied dryly, and her coldness made Lanaya flinch. The intensity and anger in the voice of the little elf assured the First that she was telling the truth. She didn't know how, she just knew. "If you took care of me as you said... If you really allowed more than a brief moment to observe it closely, then you saw the marks around the Lyrium." She growled, forcing Lanaya to remember the night when she came to her.

She would never forget: The silvery Lyrium brand carved into the elf's back, glowing bluish against the golden light of her magic. It had the shape of a human hand, but with long, irregular fingers and sharp claws instead of nails. Where the palm was supposed to be was instead a whirlwind of fire, which appeared to be attempting to pull the shoulder off her small body. Around it were inscriptions painted in such a vivid red that they looked like blood, written in a language that she was not able to identify, and so small that she probably could not have read them even if she'd been able to understand. Lanaya only noticed the symbols because she had looked closely - from afar, it seemed only faded lines spread randomically around the Lyrium. And rounding it all, white marks that looked like small explosions, in high relief.

It was all very complex, both beautiful and vile. The world itself seemed to end there, in that mark - and the "end" was like a deep abyss opened in midair, sucking everything that was alive and kind into the darkness.

Kallian didn't wait for her answer, though. "I stabbed my own back several times, trying to get this out of my body, but the Lyrium was ingrained down to the bone. The voices that I've heard people addicted to lyrium powder hear were inside my head, screaming from inside my brain. Tearing my eardrums from the inside out with a blind knife, burning my eyes slowly, as if with smoking pipe embers. My body felt so hot that I wanted to rip my own skin off to refresh myself, while the cold was almost breaking my teeth, so much that they collided against each other while I was trembling. This, Lanaya, is raw Lyrium. For months, I experienced the advanced stages of addiction, just like someone who had been exposed to the powder for years. I suffered the withdrawal of a drug I had never used, and I almost went crazy in the process." Kallian spoke between her teeth, growling like the cornered animal she felt she was. "So no, it does not benefit me."

"What about ..." Lanaya asked, a bit shaken, after a brief silence. "What about the creature that watches you from the Fade? It protects you."

"You would not use the word protect if you understood as much as you think, First. If you only knew the truth of what it all means."

"Tell me, then," Lanaya said with that same pleading tone she had used just moments before. "Kallian, I'm not leaving here until you tell me what I want to know ..."

"It was torture." Kallian exploded, her anger rising directly to her cheeks. "Happy now? Torture. Just that simple." She looked down, squeezing the sheets so tightly that she could feel her nails tearing the cloth and piercing into her palms. "This creature, as you say, is attached to me, yes. We are physically connected, but it has no power over me. I'm not subjugated to its will." She looked back to the First, and for a moment, Lanaya wished that she had not asked anything in the first place. There was so much anger in the redhead's eyes that she thought she might actually die if she faced the Warden's fury directly for more than a few brief seconds.

"Why you, why all of this?" she ventured to ask. Now that she had penetrated so deeply into Kallian's defenses, she wanted to know more.

"Does it matter?" Kallian asked irritably. "You don't ask a lunatic why he does what he does. And you know why? Because he needs no logical reason to do anything. He does what is there in his head, even the vilest thing possible. If he wants to screw with you, he'll screw with you. Knowing the reasons will not make you feel better. It never does."

"But ..." Lanaya was about to ask, but instead decided to keep her mouth shut. She had several questions, many 'whys' and 'hows' that poured into her mind like a fountain, but she remained silent - all the words just died in her throat.

She remembered the darkest time of her life, when she had lived under the power of the group of bandits who had killed her family. The life of servitude and constant abuse had never made sense to her young mind, and she'd always wondered what she had done to deserve it all. It must have been a terrible atrocity, she thought, for the Creators to punish her that way, and maybe if she knew the reason, she would be able to accept her fate with less distress and pain.

One day she decided to ask to her "master", in opposition to her instincts, which insisted that she should remain quiet, why he had chosen her. Why he was doing these things. His answer was direct and intense, like a slap in her face, just before he could lean the weight of his body against hers.

Because I can.

She never felt any better.

Lanaya just sank into the place where she was sitting and took both hands in her face, sighing heavily. She didn't like to remember those things - they always made her feel bad, and Kallian's words hit her like a punch in the stomach.

Kallian had touched the old wound with a hot iron, and would never even know it.

The little elf just watched the First breathing heavily, still with her face buried in her hands. She used the time to observe her better, to understand her reactions. And the first thing she noticed were the scars around her wrists and ankles.

The robe she was wearing, which by the way was totally different from the one she'd worn when they first met, was ligher and thinner, leaving her arms and part of her legs exposed. Those marks were chain scars, Kallian noticed - she'd had the same scars when she was younger, and it had taken several years for them to disappear completely.

Continuing her inspection, Kallian saw several thin and almost transparent lines on her shins and arms. Her neck held a white mark, a cruel collar marked on the skin that her usual robes completely concealed. Bite marks deformed the perfect contours of her ears.

Lanaya was a survivor of evil human nature, just like her.

Kallian's trembling hand touched her arm lightly, taking Lanaya out of her thoughts. Her voice was soft, and all anger gone. "Thinking too much doesn't help, you know?"

Lanaya lifted her head and Kallian received her glance with a small, weak smile. The little elf's lips were discolored, and her face pale - only the Creators knew the effort she was making to keep the nausea, headaches and retching under control, but even so, she was trying to be strong.

The First thought a few moments before speaking, crossing her arms as if to emphasize her words. "Sometimes you cannot avoid it."

Golden rays of healing light flew from her fingers, and Kallian sank into the sheets with relief. The corners of her vision were already sliding into greyscale, but she didn't want to look weak in front of Lanaya. Not when the First still seemed willing to cut off her head and burn her body for treason.

The silence that ensued after the healing process was, unlike the previous one, comfortable and warm. There was something going on - a moment of unique and deep understanding between the two that neither of them could explain, but they knew it was there, nonetheless. Gone was the tension and the sharp looks, only two people organizing their thoughts in their own time.

"Breathing helps sometimes," said Kallian, after seeing Lanaya uncrossing her arms for the third time since she had removed her hands from her face. "You know, during a crises."

"Is it that obvious?" The First smiled weakly, slightly embarrassed.

"I also couldn't stand still for much longer and... Wait." Kallian stopped, frowning. "That was rhetorical too, or ...?" she asked, genuinely confused.

Lanaya smiled again.

"You seem to be a good person," Lanaya said finally, standing up. With nimble fingers, she began to scan Kallian's body for anomalies while she continued to speak. "Without your sharp claws and teeth pointed at me, of course."

"I am," replied Kallian, feeling the magic gradually easing the pain in her joints. "Or at least, I try to be." She grabbed Lanaya's arm suddenly, causing the First to look at her. "Despite everything, I know you care about her. Eilleen, I mean. She likes you a lot, I know it. Which is why I want to tell you something, and you need to pay close attention to it." Her golden eyes gleamed like small fireballs, lit by the candle light at their side. "This curse can be strong, but it's mine. It's Dangerous, yes, but only to me. Nobody but me will ever be affected. And just like you came to the worst possible conclusions, others surely will, as well. And that's why I beg you, please... don't tell anyone about what you've heard here."

"I don't know, Kallian." Lanaya dropped, sitting back on the bed beside her. "I don't know what this is about. You gave me no real details, and I don't think it's fair to hide something like this from the others..."

"Lanaya," she called seriously, feeling brave enough to sit. "I answered everything you asked me. Now you know as much as I do," Kallian lied, but didn't think it would hurt at all. There was no need give her more details than she already had. "I cooperated with you. Gave you my word…"

"But there's a demon involved." She crossed her arms, this time burying her fingers into the skin to keep them in place. "Possession is dangerous."

"There is no possession, if there's no concession," Kallian said with conviction, almost automatically. It was the absolute truth of her existence, the thing that she kept repeating to herself for hours before sleep when she thought of the Lion invading her body and hurting her family. "And there is no concession because there was no agreement. Never was, and never will be. Which is why I say that this curse cannot bring any harm to anyone but myself."

Lanaya was silent, just watching as Kallian spoke. By the time she was finished, she didn't know what to believe anymore. Several questions were still bombarding her mind, but something told her that she wouldn't get anything else from this small, brave elf.

When she said nothing, Kallian continued, "I would never let anything happen to her. Not to Eilleen, not to the others."

"I don't know..." she replied, finally. Her distrust was as big as her will to believe in Kallian.

"If you say something to someone..." Kallian ran her hands over her face, and stopped speaking. She decided to redesign her justification, to not appear so much like a threat. "Look, I have a mission, you know? As a Grey Warden and such. Recruit people, form an army, kill a dragon..." She shook her head before continuing, trying to ignore how stupid and insane it all sounded. She attempted to recover the conviction in her voice before continuing. "Don't think I do this because I'm some kind of extremist patriot who loves this dirty land, filled with hypocrites, which is Ferelden. No, I'm not. If it depended on me, they all could go to the Void and I wouldn't care. But..." She sighed. "This is all I have."

Lanaya listened in silence while Kallian shrugged with a sad smile on her face. The clan was all she had, too - she was able to sympathize with the situation of the little elf.

"I was expelled from home. You know, by the city guards," Kallian continued. "If I go back, they'll kill me. This is everything that was left for me: fight for something that will ensure a future for the people I left behind. For my family." She sighed again. "If you tell them, they will not want me around anymore. I'll lose the only thing left to me since this all started ... I will lose my purpose."

"You really believe that?" she asked earnestly. "You don't have to do that. You can always start over, seek for a new beginning. Once I realized that, I had less than nothing. It's hard, but not impossible."

"I have to believe." Kallian shrugged. "There is no fresh start for me. You cannot simply start over when you have a Lyrium mark ingrained in your body, pulling you back to the beginning of everything, every day. I need this, I need to know that I am at least doing something good for them, because there's not much for left me."

Lanaya took a few minutes to herself, remaining silent as she thought, considering her words carefully. She couldn't tell what was real and what was exaggeration, but couldn't deny that she had sympathized with the story she heard. There were power in her words, something stronger than simple truths or outright lies; it was intense and deadly, like watching an explosion so closely that the heat would burned her skin.

Her decision, however, had already been made.

"I have one condition, though," she said finally. "Let me study your mark."

"Excuse me?" Kallian asked, confused. She hadn't expected the First to agree, much less that she would ask something like that.

"I want to understand how it works."

"Trust me, you don't want to do that." She let out a sarcastic giggle.

"Why not? "Lanaya asked, so interested in the matter that Kallian's smile completely disappeared. "Something in your mark enhances any magic applied to you, and I want to know how you do it. "

"I am not sure if I understand what you mean..." Kallian was confused. So far, her experiences with magic were always catastrophic, even if just small casualities, but she'd always thought it was normal. Never associated it with the mark.

"You should have died before coming here." Lanaya continued. "Your injuries were serious. Your broken ribs pierced your lungs in several places, your heart was weak, frantically pumping blood to places it would never reach because of all those internal bleedings... The truth was that you had more damage than I was able to heal, but I fought for you regardless. I was surprised with the result. The effects of my healing were increased exponentially, and somehow, it was enough to save you."

Kallian frowned suspiciously. "And you want what? To use it as a weapon, like a catalyst?"

"Of course not," she replied as if Kallian have said something very stupid. "I want to use its power to help others. If I could find a means of enhancing my healing the way you do, I could ..."

"Look," cut Kallian, uncomfortable with the idea of using that thing in other people. "Give up. Your patients would die before they could get any real benefit from it, if any."

"Not to use on them. It is about within me." She smiled. "You told me your purpose, and this is mine. Helping others." Her expression became nostalgic. "Eilleen's father found me when I was at rock bottom. I had nothing, not even hope... My life was empty and he gave me something to do, something to occupy my troubled mind. He taught me to heal people, and loved it. " Her smile was wide. "When you are healing someone's body, you are healing your own soul in the process. Your hearts are filled with good feelings, and there's no room for sadness. He always said that."

Kallian gave her a half smile. Eilleen's father seemed wise, she thought, and found herself thinking about what had happened to him. It was not like Eilleen was much of a conversationalist about her personal life during dinner, or usually spoke of her problems while killing an ogre.

The truth was, Mahariel was so mysterious that Kallian knew more about Noah's past than hers.

Anyway, she remained firm in her decision. "I cannot allow it, Lanaya, however good your intentions are. You don't know what you're talking about. This a demonic bound, dark magic of the worst kind. It will release everything bad that you keep inside, always, and use it against you to break you. There's no way for anything good to survive with this burden to hold you back. Not even your good intentions. "

"What if I can develop something without this demonic connection?" she asked, and had a twinkle in her eye that Kallian had not seen until then. "If I understand how it works, understand how it was created, maybe I can even develop a process to reverse your situation..."

"If there's a way," said Kallian, trying to push away the false hopes that threatened to reach her heart. "You won't find them here. Any attempt to reproduce what was done to me will just corrupt your soul. You will end up destroying your second chance, and all that you built in your new life." The expression of Kallian was painful. "I am sorry Lanaya, but this is not open to negotiations."

"Even if it's a necessary evil for you to be free of the curse?" she asked, frowning.

"If it would put anyone else in the same situation as me, then I forbid it, no." Kallian was categorically firm. "I don't wish that kind of suffering on anyone."

Lanaya considered her words. "Not even for the mage who did this to you?"

Silence was Kallian's only answer.