-chapter 11-

The Fears of Men

The heavy wooden door blotted out light and sound, leaving her utterly alone in the dark. Evelyn slowly climbed back up the stairs, legs and feet spasming as the adrenaline filtered out of her system. Tremors wracked her body as she followed the distant sound of the retreating Apprentices.

What had just happened? She couldn't make sense of it. That girl had to be a mage... right? Like the rest of them, destined to be imprisoned here forever. And the Senior Enchanter must have expected a different reception, or she'd never have allowed them to stay and watch.

Evelyn thought back to when she was first captured; the sickness and exhaustion that had enveloped her. The way she'd blacked out, not waking again for a full day. How was it even possible that the little elf girl was awake? Not just awake, but smiling, screaming; fierce as a spitting fire.

The wonder of it almost blotted out the disappointment, and shame, that coated her insides. No one was coming. No one was ever coming. It took her the better part of twenty minutes to trudge her way back to the dormitory, and she hesitated only a moment before opening the door.

She kept her eyes on the ground, unable to meet the mocking gazes of the other Apprentices. Their laughter, though, she could not escape.

"Hey, Evelyn," Charlie snickered, goaded on by encouraging whispers. "When you're made Tranquil, can I have your bed?"

Evelyn's heart nearly stopped at the thought. The Tranquil had been stripped of their magic and emotions, and were now little more than slaves to the Enchanters. They could be seen working in the dining hall and the libraries, or cleaning the latrines, never speaking unless spoken to. She couldn't suppress the shudder that rattled her delicate shoulders.

"Don't be daft," a boy named Ryar replied, thumping his fist against Charlie's shoulder. "You really want to sleep on something she's touched?"

That earned uproarious laughter from the group, and Evelyn couldn't help the heat that rose to her cheeks; equal parts rage and embarrassment. She ignored their jeers as she crept into her cot, pulled the blanket over her head, and willed sleep to consume her.

Hours passed, and still she couldn't sleep. The room was quiet now, the air stirred only by the snores of other Apprentices. She wanted nothing more than to see her wolf, to visit her library and question Wisdom about whatever she'd just seen. Every time she closed her eyes, though, her mind would hone in on the overwhelming pain. Usually she could tune out the endless aches, but tonight she tossed and turned, her blanket tangling around her limbs and drenching with sweat. Every position had agony throbbing through her, and tears of exhausted frustration coated her cheeks.

She was still awake when clipped footsteps sounded down the hall, heading for the dorm. Quickly, she threw her blanket over her face and tried to force her breaths to be even and slow, peeling up one corner of the cloth to see whoever was approaching. The door creaked open, and the hall's dim lamplight pooled on the floor.

The clear silhouette of Senior Enchanter Lydia cut through the lit doorway, and, clutched in her arms, a small form with pointed ears. Evelyn stifled her gasp of relief, seeing that they hadn't killed the girl. She didn't know why, exactly, but she felt the need to protect her. Lydia strode into the room, heading straight for Evelyn. It was an effort to keep her breathing even, maintaining the illusion of sleep.

The Senior Enchanter roughly dropped the girl into the bunk beside Evelyn's. Lydia blew out a breath, brushing off her robes as though they'd been stained by the girl's very presence. Evelyn held back a snarl as the woman retreated from the room, shutting the door behind her with a snap of her fingers. As the footsteps faded, Evelyn scrambled from her bed.

She blinked quickly, willing her eyes to adjust, and knelt beside the next cot. The girl was unconscious, and no longer dressed in her strange clothing. She wore a baggy nightdress similar to Evelyn's own, her hair damp and skin clean of blood. Evelyn held her breath, listening, and let it out again in a heavy sigh when she heard the girl's gentle exhales. She was okay.

Relief flooded her, but she still didn't want to leave the girl alone, even if she was unconscious. She lay awake the rest of the night, shutting her eyes and feigning sleep before the call sounded for breakfast, and Lydia came to take the strange girl's phylactery.

Evelyn's hands burned with unspent magic, a voice in her head urging her to leap on the Senior Enchanter and attack. She bit her own cheeks until she tasted blood, holding back the lightening that danced in her veins. When she stood up from her cot, though, gently smoking scorch marks scarred her sheets.

The girl never arrived to breakfast, and Evelyn tried not to let the slithering anxiety wrap its way around her gut. She had no reason to worry about this stranger, and once the girl had spoken to the other Apprentices she'd no doubt hate Evelyn just as much as they did. Still, she found herself bouncing her leg until the girl finally arrived to their history lesson, even seeing that she was still blank and exhausted; the polar opposite to her shrieking rage the night before. What had Lydia done to her?

Evelyn could never focus on the history lectures Enchanter Uma gave, though she liked the woman in general. Enchanter Uma was the only one of her instructors who didn't treat her differently from the other Apprentices. She was tall and rounded, her generous curves standing out in her dim gold robes. Her skin was very dark, and her hair hung in dozens of shiny black braids that brushed the backs of her calves as she moved.

Her beauty was accentuated by the fact that she smiled often, and widely. If Evelyn had been more drawn to history, it may have been the one subject she could excel at. For some reason, though, her mind just couldn't attach to things that didn't catch her interest. When she was excited by something, she could read about it all day. If not, one paragraph could take an hour to decipher; her eyes wandering over the same sentence again and again without comprehension.

Magic fascinated her, but ever since the incident with Enchanter Marven she'd been forbidden from practicing it. She was allowed to sit in on lessons, listen to the lectures and watch the other Apprentices as they trained, but never permitted to attempt any herself. She was too dangerous, the Enchanters said, to be trusted with such power.

Enchanter Uma was pacing their corner of the library, talking animatedly. History was the only lesson that didn't separate the young Apprentices from the older ones, so they needed five long tables to accommodate their group. Evelyn occupied a sixth table, alone, and started a little when the girl walked in and sat beside her. They drew a few looks, but the girl didn't glance at Evelyn as she stared ahead, eyes glazed.

The Enchanter read from a book titled 'Tranquility and the Role of the Fade in Human Culture, by First Enchanter Josephus'. Evelyn's mind wandered, as she failed to keep her attention on the lecture, until something she heard caught her notice.

"Even when entering the Fade through the use of lyrium, mortals are not able to control or affect it." Enchanter Uma was saying, her voice smooth and pleasing. Evelyn wrinkled her brow. She knew that wasn't true, she'd bent the Fade herself after she lost Max. "The spirits who dwell there, however, can, and as the Chantry teaches us, the great flaw of the spirits is that they have neither imagination nor ambition."

A rush of heat filled Evelyn's cheeks as she struggled to contain her anger on behalf of her friends. How dare the Chantry teach these lies? She thought about Curiosity, and the way it would make the silliest animals it could think of; giving tigers nug ears, or birds snouts instead of beaks, just to make her laugh. A pang echoed through her chest, and she wished she'd been able to visit her friends last night, instead of lying awake.

"They create what they see through their sleeping visitors, building elaborate copies of our cities, people, and events," the Enchanter went on, ignorant of the mistruths she perpetuated. "Which, like the reflections in a mirror, ultimately lack context or life of their own."

Evelyn's blood boiled, but she took deep breaths, exhaling slowly through her teeth. If she interrupted, or tried to tell the Enchanter she was wrong, she'd have to explain how she knew; and that was not an option. She didn't even want to think of what might happen then, but none of the possibilities would be good. She cut a glance at the girl from the corner of her vision, and noted the way she shook her head, blinking as if to clear her eyes.

The rest of the lecture passed blandly, minutes ticking by torturously slow. Evelyn's eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, her sleepless night catching up to her. She rested her head against the cool wood of the table, ignoring the quiet laughter of the others. They were always watching her, waiting for something to mock. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she immediately dropped into the thick fur coat of a wolf.