Apostate in Plain Sight

Aftermath

The Fade felt restless. She glanced around, waiting for the inevitable appearance of the fiery demon of rage that she had given herself over to. The air around her wobbled and her writing desk and chair were perched impossibly on the wall, challenging gravity. As Anders approached her from the hallway, she frowned, immediately recognizing that something was wrong, but not able to put a finger on it just yet. He smiled at her, holding his arms out for her to fall into his embrace. What she did instead was lift her arms up to rest between them as he hugged her. "I figured you might need a body guard tonight in case that demon returned," he said, pulling back from her and offering her a short smile.

The rune on her arm was throbbing, the angry cuts pulsing with her heartbeat as she tried to figure out what was wrong with this picture. She gripped her bicep with her right hand and squeezed. Anders' image wavered momentarily and them she recognized what was wrong. "You know, if you're going to try and trick me by pretending to be my lover, you might wish to do some more digging through my memories."

He smiled softly and tipped his head. "What are you talking about, love?"

She cringed as the demon used Anders' pet name for her and hugging herself she manifested a dagger in her palm, hidden by her body. She snorted. "Sorry, I guess I'm just jumpy."

"Perhaps I could... help you relax?" he offered suggestively.

She swallowed her nausea as the fake Anders wiggled his eyebrows. "Oooh, Fade sex. That's new. You'd better make sure you're concentrating really hard. You wouldn't want to make anything... too small," she said with a feigned smirk as she moved closer to him. Before he could even retort, she whipped the dagger up and buried it hilt deep in his chest. As his expression faltered and the demon's lie flickered into view she growled. "Did you think I was that stupid? You'll not be getting anything from me. Begone." She wrenched the knife to the side, then pulled it back out.

When the demon fell and it's body melted back into the ground, Hawke jerked awake. She gasped in a terrified breath and reached for Anders. He was not in his usual spot. Her heart raced and she whipped her head around to scour the room. Her arm still throbbed just like it had in the Fade, and she rubbed her hand absently over the bandage as her eyes fell on him. He had changed from his armor and apparently tried to stay up to keep an eye on her. Instead, she smiled as she watched him snore softly, head on the writing desk and quill limply in his fingers.

She slipped her legs from the bed, the sheets rustling softly. Anders never flinched. She pulled on her robe and padded softly from the room. She had a mission. Never again was she going to tolerate the use of blood magic. Her fingers still felt sticky, like she had dipped them in tar. How Merrill lived like this all of the time, she would never guess. Down the stairs and into the library she headed, gathering all of Quentin's books. She would not become him. Each book weighed heavy in her arms as she took them down to the reading room and set them with a thunk on the desk. She calmly dipped into her replenished mana pool and closed her eyes, reveling in the smooth and silky texture of her own magic as it cascaded to her fingertips. She opened her eyes and sighed as the flame flickered in her palm, waiting to be directed. She cupped her other hand around it, allowing the mana charged ball of fire to leech away the sticky remnants of the blood magic. Then with another sigh, she flicked her fingers toward the hearth, lighting a roaring fire. The warmth filled the room and warmed her chilled toes. She set to work.

She ripped chapters from the tomes, and imagined the pages screaming as she tossed them in the flames where they ignited, giving off the distinctive scent of burning paper. She cringed at the blatant burning of knowledge, but no amount of learning was worth her soul. One act of blood magic was enough to last her a life time. Blood Magic was said to corrupt the user, to turn them from their morals and eventually they became an abomination. Merrill was extremely strong willed, or her demon was patient.