Gateways

The pale, sickly elf let out a wet sounding cough, leaning heavily against a templar’s arm as the curly-haired man led her up yet /another/ flight of stairs. From what glances she did manage to snag of Cullen, he looked both concerned and admiring at the same time, Ostagari could only assume her never ending, not contagious sickness was what bothered him.

“Heh… You would think that by now we would have learned to sprout wings and fly!” The small woman let out a soft, winded laugh. Despite his concern, the templar smiled, moving closer so that she might lean more heavily against him without forsaking her pride. Never mind being sickly in body, this elf woman had always possessed a powerful mind… “We’re almost there, Ari…” Cullen murmured, trying his hardest to hide the hints of affection.

Despite the fact that every rule seemed against it, the soon-to-be mage and templar had always found pleasure in each others’ company, Ostagari enjoyed tempting the templar to open up and express more of himself, and Cullen enjoyed the debates they always seemed to find themselves getting into. Such debates were never heated or argumentative; they simply expressed opinions, countered judgments, and opened new doors for the both of them.

The dark haired elf brought up another skinny leg onto the step in front of her, silver eyes rising to bore into the heavy doors that separated them from the harrowing chamber. While tradition demanded secrecy of the ordeal, she had heard many things about the harrowing… most of what she had heard was enough to bait her nerves, but this was the only real option. “Cullen,” the pale elf started, frail chest heaving as they ascended the final few steps, “What is worse, to die, or to live as a husk…?”

The two paused on the final platform, Cullen’s features hardening slightly as he looked down at the much shorter woman, who was leaning heavily against the doorway, now that his arm was not within reach. “Ari, I rather think that it is better to live fully, as you are.” The templar murmured, heavier brows furrowing as the human reached out a hand to brush a stray black hair out of her face.

A small smile tugged at thin lips as Ari nodded, giving the heavy door an experimental push. No, she never would be able to open the heavy things on her own. Cullen and another templar who had stood waiting took it upon themselves to do so for her, and the relatively young woman was led into the chamber, the gloved hand on her forearm giving a reassuring squeeze before Cullen departed to stand with the other templars. Irving and the knight commander were off to the side- seeming to argue in hushed voices.

Ari clasped her thin hands together in front of her, taking the time to look around the chamber, tilting her head to admire the high dome. It took a fair amount of willpower not to look in the direction of the lyrium in the center of the room; each time what could be considered a breeze filtered through, it wafted up simply the distinct odor of the substance, flicking it across her skin and tempting her to inhale it. Her nose was more sensitive than most, apparently, though the elf woman (as well as several older mages) had the impression it was something more than a sharp nose.

“ ‘Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him’,” the sound of heavy armor shifting assaulted her ears, and the frail woman turned to look over at the knight commander as he strode towards her, the affects from his argument with Irving still evident in his sour looking expression, “Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium,”

Ostagari chose not to openly express how many times she had heard that particular snippit, so she stole a glance at Cullen instead, fighting back a smile as her long-fingered, dexterous hand tapped it’s index finger against her thigh, one, two, three… from the way the human man cleared his throat and forced himself to look away, it was apparent that he both understood and agreed with that signal.

“—harrowing exists, child. The ritual sends you into the Fade; and there, you will face a demon, armed with only your will,” in the back of her mind, the sickly woman cursed herself for being so easily distracted, pursing her lips as she forced herself to listen attentively to the First Enchanter. “I am ready…” Ari murmured, giving a small nod of her head, though when the Knight Commander shifted, her silver gaze darted back to him,

“Know this apprentice, if you fail… we templars will perform our duty; you will die,” another nod, though her shoulders stiffened almost imperceptivity. Ostagari had always been particularly skilled with magic, and some of the more wistful souls liked to say it was because she lacked the physical strength most were blessed with. That much was undeniably true, even for an elf her body was too slender, her joints too apparent with pale skin stretching over a body laced with blue and purple veins. The magic was her sanctuary…

“This is lyrium, the very essence of magic, and your gateway into the fade.”

Forcing her eyes to move slowly towards that wondrous substance, Ari licked her lips with what seemed like hesitation. A small step forward, but a large, grizzled hand closed over her elbow, halting her rather effectively. “The Harrowing is a secret out of necessity, child, every mage must go through this trial by fire,” the templars were already standing in their positions with grim expressions, though Cullen’s gaze was practically boring holes into her back, she made a mental note to talk to him once this was all over… assuming she was still alive, “as we succeeded, so shall you. Keep your wits about you, and remember that the Fade is a realm of dreams; the spirits may rule it, but your own will is real. Let it be your strength-“

“The apprentice must go through this test /alone/, First Enchanter. You are ready.”

Ari’s eyes moved once between the two of them before taking a breath and stepping forward, slowing as she neared the lyrium with a hungry expression. That smell… It was wonderful. Her skin tingled pleasantly, and she hadn’t even touched it yet, already the blood was pooling behind her skin, causing her to look flushed. She watched her hand reach out, watched as the blue glow captured he arm, her eyes roved about a final time- and then her body crumpled mercilessly to the floor.

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Falling… The sensation was not unfamiliar, Ostagari could recall times when she had fainted for some reason or another. This, however, was different. Eyes were watching her out of that hazy gloom, wicked teeth curling into grins as she found herself on her feet, a hand moving to clutch her forehead. Whenever she sought to look directly at those wicked things- they disappeared from view, showing themselves only at the very corners of her gaze.

Slowly, she turned about, managing to peak through the greenish haze to spot a rather large vase. Well… what could looking inside hurt? It wasn’t until she found herself peering directly over it not a moment later that she wondered about the strength she felt here. Reaching inside, her spindly hand closed over three small, glowing orbs. It was a strange sensation, she felt unaware, yet completely aware… There was no urge no cough, none of the physical weaknesses or maladies she suffered from in the real world; and those wicked teeth at the edges of her vision seemed far less intimidating.

Continuing on and pausing only to marvel at a rather odd, twisted, and rather demented looking statue, Ostagari jumped and let out a gasp as a sharp shock coursed through her ‘body’. The magic tingled in her body as her hands shot out, firing her own bit of lightning at that floating wraith of a wisp. Power, pride… Both were felt as that miniscule creature faded into nothingness. This was the Fade, and slowly- she was conquering it in a way she never would have been able to with her own world. There was no weakness in this realm; her weakened, sickly body was not here to slow her down.

Smiling, the elf continued farther into the twisting paths, dispatching various wisps, confidence growing. “My will is my strength…”

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The broad shouldered templar shifted from foot to foot, resisting the urge to straighten her crumpled form. It felt as though it had been hours, though in truth, mere minutes had passed. Ostagari Surana, lying there, motionless… His skin felt cold, the air felt thick and heavy with… what was that, fear? Perhaps it was, perhaps he had allowed himself to get too close to this woman. Maker knew she constantly had his mind working, and of course he would worry for her- she had become a friend since she had been brought to the tower… But fear. He feared losing her, not just because of the long conversations in the chapel…

His lips twitched when he noticed her body stirring, if only slightly. Even from the distance of at least fifteen feet away, he could see her eyes moving beneath the lids, darting this way and that. A cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck, breath hitching in his throat whenever her fingers twitched. “Cullen,” The sharpness his name was spoken wit brought his attention away from the frail body of the elf, his own eyes focusing instead on the Knight Commander. “Should she fail- you are to strike the killing blow.”

“Is that really necessary, Greagoir?” Irving snipped, heavy brows furrowing at the taller, broader man as he stepped forward as well, as though he were moving to intercept the Knight Commander and the younger templar. Regardless, Cullen blanched, the color draining from his face as he gave a very reluctant, very forced bow of submission. “I understand, Ser.”

Irving still seemed disapproving of that decision, though along with everyone else, his eyes drifted back to that crumpled form. The lower lip of the girl was moving… talking, she was talking to someone, or something, in the Fade. They could only wait…

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The sloth demon before her resembled a bear… sort of. Spike-like things protruded from it’s back, some sort of slime oozing steadily forth. Apparently it wasn’t blood, because the creature didn’t seem to mind so much. Ostagari had taken to allowing Mouse to set upon her shoulders, seeing as he seemed quite content to remain in that form. “Riddles… And if I guess correctly, you’ll teach Mouse?” Ari tilted her head to the side, leaning her temple against the fine staff she had received from Valor, a spirit of the Fade.

“Mrrh, yes. And if you fail- I’ll eat you both.”

“Very well, I accept,” Ari grinned in an excited nature, and Mouse gave an indignant squeak, practically falling off of her shoulders as he shifted to his human form, large hands practically covering her shoulders as she stared intently at the demon, waiting. “Are you sure about this, Ari…? He’s powerful, but… just how good are you at riddles?” The elf woman’s smile broadened a bit, head turning to look up and back at Mouse. She was determined to get him out of the Fade, to help him… First they had to defeat the demon, and why not let him learn to turn into a bear? He might keep that skill with him, whenever they left.

“I’m very good at riddles, don’t worry, Mouse. If all else fails… well, I’ll hit ‘em on the head.” A soft laugh that was meant as encouragement, but those dark, expressive, utterly too-deep eyes Mouse possessed seemed to narrow a little with worry. The sloth demon was still thinking about what it wished to ask, though its gaze lingered on her human partner thoughtfully.

While she had truly only been in the Fade around ten minutes, it had felt like hours to her, wandering through the twisting paths, talking to Mouse, dealing with whatever spirit wolves actually attacked. He had been an apprentice, though he wasn’t so sure when. Ari herself had never seen him during her time at the tower, and his robes seemed to be of the older make, before they had started separating everything by color rather than the tailoring by itself, therefore- she felt it was safe to assume it had been a long time ago.

“Hurr… I have seas with no water, coast with no sand, towns without people, mountains without land. What am I?” The demon seemed rather pleased with himself, barring his fangs at the elf women as his grizzly head remained on his paws, tongue snaking across his lips in an obscene manner. Mouse’s grip on her shoulders tightened, and she placed the hand that wasn’t hanging onto her staff on top of one of his, holding it there reassuringly. It was nice to think that he was a friend, they had spoken of many things while wandering the Fade, hopes, dreams, worries… maybe it was because he was the first being she had ever really protected, but the desire to help him was still strong.

“Hm…” Ostagari’s eyes rose and looked about, silver orbs not focusing on anything as her mind roved over the riddle, lower jaw shifting at a curious angle as the dark-haired elf thought it over, “A map.” Her answer was decisive, almost commanding as she looked back at the demon, pleased to see the self-assured look removing itself from the bear-creature’s face. A growl rumbled in it’s throat before it gave a nod, grudgingly accepting her answer as he looked away to conjure up another riddle.

A soft chuckle behind her caused Ari to turn slightly, tilting her head to look up at the taller figure, returning the smile she saw there. “I guess you weren’t kidding when you said you were good at riddles…” Mouse ventured, grinning as those too-deep eyes bored eagerly into the woman’s silver-steel ones. “I had to be good at something, Mouse…” Ari stated, good-natured smile faltering for a moment. Having always been the frail child, Ostagari had been the product of not only an illegitimate birth from a rather young elven woman, but during the pregnancy, her mother had been a sorely abused serving girl. Some believed that was why Ari had come as early as she had, as weak as she had. Underdeveloped lungs had caused her many problems, as had malnutrition and several of her own beatings… She had taken solace in the magic, which had been when the templars had taken her from her family at age twelve.

Mouse frowned softly, head tilting to the right as he made a single click with his tongue, “Your mind was what developed, Ari; and it’s a mind to be admired, yearned for. You needn’t blame yourself for passing ou-“ Mouse cut off with a blink at the surprised look on the woman’s face, his own mind quickly darting through their conversations, frowning when he discovered she had not actually told him that particular memory. “Mouse, how did you-…”

“If you two are done chitchatting, I’ve another riddle.” The sloth demon cut in, letting out a yawn as he shifted to the other side, splaying a little farther out. At a nod from the elf, he continued; “I'm rarely touched but often held. If you have wit, you'll use me well. What am I?” Another lazy grin, another self-satisfied expression.

She would have liked to have questioned Mouse as to how he had known of the particular event (or several events) he had been referring to, but now she had to answer this riddle; she was, however, aware enough to notice the relieved look that tugged at Mouse’s lips as she turned back to face the demon. “Ah… My tongue.” She stated after a moments hesitation, wringing her hands together at the staff as she leaned against it more heavily, out of habit more than anything else. The demon snorted in irritation. “Yes, yes. Your witty, witty tongue…” more grumbles followed, but Ostagari was preparing herself for another riddle…

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“It’s been fifteen minutes…” Cullen murmured, lips pursing together into a thin line as he shifted again, large hand avoiding the hilt of his sword like the plague. Maybe, if he didn’t touch it, nothing would go wrong. When his eyes lifted to look over at Irving and Greagoir, he thought he could detect some form of amusement from the First Enchanter, as well as a bit of irritation from the Knight Commander.

“Yes, Cullen. And most harrowings last at the very least an hour.” Irving gently chided him, raising a hand to his lips as he chuckled, wrinkled face turning back to the mage woman that still lay on the floor, the same position she had fallen in. The elf seemed to be doing well… then again; she had always had a strong aptitude for the magic. It amazed him, really, how someone with such a physical handicap when compared to a normal being could manage to remain uplifting. He suspected her physical disadvantages bothered her more than she let on, having walked by her claimed corner of the library on occasion, trying to ignore the soft sniffles… the First Enchanter could only imagine how much willpower it took to put up with being constantly weak.

The Knight Commander had somewhat similar thoughts, though he wasn’t entirely fond of the elf girl. She had a nasty habit of raining down on him with endless questions, waiting until he had at least verbally refused to answer them before she moved on. The Knight Commander possessed a strong dislike for being forced to question himself or his own motives, but the mage apprentice managed to force him to do so every time. His worry-lined face hardened as he watched the pale face of the elf twitch. The lighting of the room displayed Cullen’s sweat whenever he looked over at the much younger templar, and a deep frown marred his own expression further. It was not natural for a templar to fear so much for a mage…

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“Mouse, should I call you ‘Bear’, now?” Ari grinned, quirking a brow as they trotted easily along, the black, lumbering creature beside her gave a grin of it’s own as he ran even closer, silky fur brushing against her blue robes.

“No, Ari, I rather like it when you call me ‘mouse’! Aside from that, ‘bear’ is too strong a calling, especially coming from your mouth,” Mouse grinned and chuckled, sniffing the air as they rounded the corner, coming upon that all too familiar arena. He had taken many apprentices here… feasted upon their souls with a rage demon or two. Those pests were lucky they didn’t know of his true form, else they may have cowered before him. The thought caused those deep eyes to narrow as they entered the clearing, and he noticed Ari looking with a hungry expression towards the pure lyrium. “There he is.” Mouse murmured, shifting to his human form and roughly directing Ostagari towards the rage demon.

The elf wasn’t quite so sure what to think when Mouse quickened the pace and brought them to the arena faster than she would have liked. It seemed as though only seconds ago they had been answering the final question of the sloth demon, killing a few spirit wolves on the way here… She might have questioned it, but Mouse had jerked her body about and practically shoved her towards the rage demon. “Ahhh, this one looks tasty, Mouse,” the demon slurred, voice as undefined as his magma-like body.

“You have no hold over him any longer,” Ari murmured cautiously, gripping her staff more tightly as she heard Mouse let out a grunt behind her, apparently having shifted once more into his bear form. The demon actually seemed to laugh… “Such a shame, Mouse. After all the meals we shared together?” The bear behind her let out a growl and surged forth, angry jaws opening wide to grab at the demon. There was no time for questions; little bolts were raining down due to the wisps. Ari’s silver eyes locked onto one, a small bolt of lightning darting out of her fingers before her arm swept toward the rage demon, which was currently beating down on Mouse’s shoulders. If nothing else, her companion simply looked irritated.

A wave of lightning streaked out from her staff-arm, seeming to fork from both her fingertips as well as the staff itself. The magic was pounding in her blood, and the brief distraction her lightning provided made it possible for Mouse to lunge forward, jaws closing over the demons head as his teeth crushed down, shaking the singed form to and fro as Ostagari continued to do away with the pesky wisps. The woman felt her skin burning, her core weakening as the last of them fell; heart beat erratic and unstable. Lyrium… she needed it…

Even as the green haze seemed to grow stronger, an equally strong pair of hands guided her to the pure lyrium, stooping with her as he hands closed over the spikes, raw magical energy replenishing itself as she drew in a deep breath, the skin around her eyes, nose, ears, and mouth glowing with a faint blue light. “We did it! We actually defeated the demon! When you showed up, I had hoped… but I never really thought-!” Mouse’s voice was excited as he turned her about roughly in his grasp, fingers digging in none too pleasantly.

“The one’s before me… what were their names…?” Her blood was tingling due to the sudden intake of so much lyrium, everything was acutely aware of what was happening. Those fingers felt like hot pokers digging into her arms, even through her robes. His breath reeked of something foreign, and those eyes seemed all the more empty, bottomless, yet so full of something she didn’t understand. “Their names…? What does it matter, Ari? You did it! Now we can leave,”

“There’s no body waiting for you… we would have to find you one.” Ostagari brought a hand up to grip her pounding skull, feeling that weakness of the real world steadily returning. It felt so heavy and oppressive, especially now that she had experienced time without it… Mouse was looking at her oddly now, smile remaining as those deep black eyes loomed closer, his grip loosening before he wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him. She was too tired to protest… but by the Maker- his breath was foul.

“Nnooo… I don’t /need/ one… You just have to let me it.” Mouse leered, upper lip curling back as he pushed the frail woman against the rock-like surface at her back, leaning in to nuzzle against her neck. Spindly hands pressed against his chest in protest, a note of both panic and anger lighting up those silver eyes. “Let you in…?” the elf replied warily, eyes looking for a way out, finding none. “My dear Ari- it’s easier than you think.” Mouse let out a dark chuckle, curved teeth sinking into her lower lip.