-chapter 12-

Magic Can Kill, Knives Can Kill.

They were in a dim reflection of the library, the telltale blueish haze was a curtain over the shadows of her classmates. Evelyn inhaled the forest-and-Fade scent of him, wrapping her arms around his neck and tethering herself in his fur. She felt the cold press of his wet nose on the top of her head, and choked out a sob.

She had the presence of mind to realize she was asleep in class, and would likely be in trouble, but couldn't bring herself to care. The suffocating homesickness was a living thing, smothering her with unsympathetic hands.

"Please," she whispered into his coat, voice trembling. "Can you make it hurt less?"

His empathy was warm against the edges of her mind, and then he was feeding her memories. Not the splendor of the memories they walked together, the cities and gardens lost to time, but her memories. The tickle of grass under her feet as she chased Max through the courtyard, sun warm against her beaming cheeks. The rustle of cream colored curtains in her bedroom, golden columns of sunset pouring through the wide windows. Her mother's perfume, delicate and floral. The warm rumble of her father's laugh.

It worked like a sedative, instantly easing the manic frequency of her thoughts. She breathed in, then out, focusing on slowing herself. Calming herself.

You are safe. The wolf told her, his words wrapping around her like a blanket. You are safe.

Then, without warning, their connection snapped. Too soon, too harshly, and she was surrounded again by the crisp edges of reality. The certainty that she did not belong here crashed over her like a tidal wave. She bolted upright in her seat, tears clouding her vision and dampening her face. She swiped at them, blinking rapidly, and looked around frantically to realize that the rest of the tables were empty; the Apprentices all gone.

"You dozed off, sweetie," came the lilting voice of Enchanter Uma. She had a hand on Evelyn's shoulder, like she'd jostled her awake. "It seemed like you needed the rest. I wasn't gonna wake you, but I thought you might be having a bad dream."

The Enchanter's brow was creased with concern, her dark eyes warm. Gratitude overwhelmed Evelyn at her obvious worry. It was such a small thing, but more than anyone had shown her in a long time. Didn't this woman know what she'd done? She didn't have the courage to ask. Instead, she shook her head.

"N-no," Evelyn mumbled, her voice warbling slightly. "I'm just a little homesick."

It was an understatement, to say the least, but Uma nodded in understanding. She squeezed her shoulder once before letting go.

"I think you ought to get a bit more sleep today, don't you?" The woman smiled down at Evelyn as she eased herself to her feet. She almost started weeping again at the thought of being back in the Fade, even for a few minutes. Back home. The little voice in her head startled her, and she furrowed her brow, confused at the intrusion.

"Yes ma'am," Evelyn made an attempt to speak clearly, and maintain eye contact, though it was uncomfortable to do so. "But I'm wanted in my next lesson, I'm sure I'm already late."

Enchanter Uma's gentle laugh was as shocking as it was genial. Evelyn could feel her eyes widen, her mouth hanging agape, but struggled to school her expression.

"Don't you worry about that, sweetheart," Uma said, using the term of endearment so casually that it brought a lump to Evelyn's throat. "I'll let the other Enchanters know you're not feeling so well. Now scurry on and get some sleep, you're clearly exhausted."

With a swish of her robes, the woman turned away. She moved to perch on the edge of one of the tables; waving her hands absentmindedly at a stack of papers that then lifted themselves into the air, floating around her while she read, and occasionally marked something in pen. Evelyn was stunned, but knew better than to disrespect the kindness she'd just been shown. Slinging her bag over her shoulder as quickly as she could, she scurried from the room, barely remembering to call her thanks over her shoulder.

Evelyn was rushing down the hallway, tripping over her own clumsy feet in the urgency to get back to her cot. Relief and gratitude eclipsed, for the moment, the aching missing-ness that always saturated her. Even before Max was gone, before the Circle, she'd never felt quite whole when she was awake. The nagging sense that she was meant to be doing something else wouldn't leave her be. She was so distracted by her own thoughts that she nearly didn't notice the children's voices that floated from the adjacent hall, until they rose in pitch and anger.

She stopped in her tracks before she could be noticed, peering around the corner cautiously. A group of Apprentices was clustered at the foot of the stairwell, right where she needed to pass. Her heart skipped as she realized who they were, and she pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. It was Charlie, with Ryar and Daniel in tow, clenching their fists and pushing up sleeves like they were about to start a fight. And there, backed into the corner and crouched defensively, was the Elven girl.

She was snarling, her eyes glowing amber and alive with hatred. She hissed something Evelyn instinctively knew was a curse as the boys advanced on her.

"What?" Charlie snorted. "Can't you even speak a real language?"

The other two boys laughed roughly, and Evelyn felt the hatred bubbling in her veins.

"'Course not," sneered Ryar, his tone icy. "Probably can't even understand us with those ugly knives for ears."

She knew the girl was strong, strong enough to make Templars bleed, but she also knew that Lydia had done something to weaken her, and had no idea if it had worn off yet. The girl was outmatched, and had no weapons to speak of. Not to mention that she was an elf. Evelyn wasn't so naive that she hadn't seen the way the Elven servants had been treated, even by her own parents. If the girl defended herself, she'd be the one who ended up in trouble.

Before she realized she'd made a decision, Evelyn was striding forward, magic hot and automatic in her hands. If these fools were going to be afraid of her, to treat her like a pariah and spread vicious rumors, she might as well give them something to be afraid of.

Dark delight began to spread through her as she gave herself over to the waves of power that rushed from the base of her skull. She stopped halfway down the hall, catching the gaze of the girl, whose eyes widened. The boys followed the look, turning toward Evelyn and audibly scoffing at her approach. She grinned like a feral cat, ready to play with its next meal.

"Well, look who it is," Charlie smiled a cold thing that wasn't a smile. "Guess we'll have to teach the filth how to mind her own fucking business."

In that moment, her vision shifted. A filter of darkness dropped between her and the world, everything around her tinging purple. Her smile widened, the sensation familiar, and something in the look made the boys blanche. Ryar and Daniel stumbled backwards, behind Charlie, who held his ground even as something like terror clouded his features.

"What are you?" He gasped. The question was less insulting than he'd clearly intended, given the obvious tremor in his voice.

"I really don't know." She replied. Even to her, the sound of her own voice was chilling; hollow, steady, amused.

She tilted her head sharply, holding his gaze with an unblinking stare. Then she thrust a hand toward them, and the force of her power knocked both Daniel and Ryar to the ground. They scrambled up and sprinted for the stairs, shoving each other out of the way as they fled, Charlie all but forgotten in their wake. He remained standing, but cast desperate glances at his companions as they abandoned him. He had the good sense to stumble back a step.

Except, he'd forgotten where he was standing. In a flash the Elven girl's arm was locked around his neck, a knife Evelyn hadn't known she possessed pressed to the soft hollow of his throat. He swallowed hard, the skin of his neck bobbing against the blade.

"P-please," he gasped, frozen still as a statue in his fear. "Let me go. I'll leave you alone, I promise."

Evelyn sauntered forward, leisurely, as though she hadn't heard him at all. She was still a dozen feet from them, purple sparks trailing from under the hem of her robes. They licked along the ground, like a slow motion lightening strike on the surface of a lake, tendrils of her power approached him. His breath quickened, eyes darting around for an escape.

"Fuck," He breathed, the panic in him clear and satisfying. "Fuck fuck fuck, please."

Evelyn stopped moving, but her power continued to close in on him, until the sparks were almost licking at his feet. Her smile had dropped away, her expression disinterested.

"Oh, I don't know," she listed her head, as if contemplating. "You'll have to ask her."

She indicated the elf girl with a subtle nod.

"After all, your inappropriate conduct was directed at her," her eyes glimmered with a challenge, the words she spoke coming from somewhere deep inside her, somewhere older. She dimly knew she didn't sound like herself, but she felt like herself. "Was it not?"

There was a moment of inescapable tension. Evelyn almost thought the girl was going to kill him, and though she wouldn't have felt an ounce of guilt, there would be no saving them from those consequences. She kept her features placid, though, as she waited. A small eternity later, the girl released him with a shove, her knife disappearing as quickly as she'd brandished it.

"Fenedhis lasa," she hissed, as Charlie ran. He bolted up the stairs, taking them two at a time, until the echo of his footsteps was only a memory.

Evelyn's power receded, and with it, her cold certainty. The reality of what she'd done dawned on her, and horror began to seep through the victory. What was wrong with her? Panic began to rise inside her chest, her breaths coming fast and uneven.

"Thanks," the girl said, all nonchalance, breaking the heavy silence. "I could've handled them myself, though."

"Wait, you do speak Common?" Evelyn blurted, unable to conjure another response.

"Duh," the girl scoffed, rolling her eyes. "It's not like it's hard."

Her accent wasn't like any other Evelyn had heard, it was bubbly and rhythmic. When she moved forward her steps were graceful, fluid like dance. She sized Evelyn up, gaze flicking up and down before she smiled, wrinkling her freckled nose.

"How did you make your eyes go all black like that?" She asked conspiratorially. "It was badass."

"My eyes did what?" Evelyn gaped.

The girl's eyebrows jutted up, but then she stuck out her hand to shake. Evelyn took it.

"I'm Nydha," she said, matter of fact. "Nydha Lavellan. Who are you?"

"I'm... I'm Evelyn," the breathless response was all she could muster.

"Alright, Evelyn," Nydha grinned at her, yanking her forward by her outstretched hand. "Let's go."