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[LadySayuri]

This is a story expanding on the Mage origin, if Anders and Amell had known eachother before Awakening. For continuity reasons, I would consider this an AU, but it could very well have happened. I have about four other chapters written already so, if enough people like this one, I'll post more up.


Funny, the Fade seems much less ominous when I’m snuggled up in my bed. After being thrown in by the templars as demon bait, the it looks downright creepy. I would be surprised if the bloody templars waited five minutes before running me through.
   
“Well, I better get started!”
   
My voice sounded muffled in the thick atmosphere of the Fade, and I felt my shoulders tense. “This is no time to scare yourself, Anders,” I muttered as I began following the vague path before me.
   
The Harrowing is supposed to be a test of ability, forcing mages and demons together as a precaution. Conveniently for the Chantry, it also kills a few mages in the process. I’ve never been one to turn down a challenge, but it would be nice if I were given some direction on what to do. Perhaps a guidebook? The Fade is supposed to be chock full of demons, why can’t one just show up so I can kill it and leave this infernal place!
   
No sooner than I thought that, I saw a figure running towards me. The form was fuzzy, but didn’t look like a demon. As it grew closer, the vision solidified and I could recognize its features.
   
“Jowan?”

He bent at the waist and panted like a dog. He always was a bit of a sissy.
   
“A-Anders? Thank the Maker. C-come, it’s Lucia!”
   
Before I even knew what I was doing, my feet moved to follow Jowan. Why was she even in the Fade? My mind told me not to trust anyone while inside the Fade, but even the slightest possibility sickened me. Jowan stopped and I followed suit. We both stared up in horror. Lucia struggled in a noose that seemed to hang in thin air, shades lunging at her feet from below. Without even hesitating, I cast a fireball at the group of shades, who writhed about before sinking into the ground. However, more appeared within a matter of seconds.
   
“Anders, please! Help me!” Lucia shrieked, her dusky blue eyes welling up with tears. Damn it all, there was nothing quite as distressing as a woman in tears. I knew it was likely a trap, but that knowledge didn’t make the scene less gut-wrenching.
   
“You can save her, you know.” came a voice behind me, sultry and soothing. I turned around to see Jowan grinning at me seductively. He began to change before my eyes, his skin shimmering like a mirage before his entire body burst into light. When the form regained itself, it was no longer Jowan. Not by a long shot. A Desire Demon, with a sinfully decadent body and haunting, cat-like eyes. I was equally enraptured and repulsed by the creature. Either way, I couldn’t help but be relieved imaginary Jowan wasn’t the one making sexy eyes at me.
   
“Ah, there’s a demon! Now, if you don’t mind, I’m here to kill you so I can leave this creepy place.”
   
The creature kept rocking her hips back and forth, her unblinking eyes pierced through my bravado. “Come now, surely you wouldn’t abandon your lovely little mage?”
   
“That isn’t really Lucia. Anyway, she isn’t mine.”
   
“That’s right, but you can have her. All you need is power, then she will be forced to recognize you.” The demoness brought her snaking tail to her lips, allowing it to caress her face. “Jowan has already made a pact here. He has tapped into power beyond your dizziest daydreams. It’s only a matter of time before Lucia falls for him. I wonder if he’ll use her for a blood ritual someday... make her his thrall.” The demon trailed off, a low chuckle escaping her lips.
   
I glared at her, power beginning to crackle from my fingertips. “That bastard. He will not lay a finger on her.”
   
“Yes, and you must be the one to protect her. All you need to do is accept me, then your desire for power... your desire for her... they will all be fulfilled.”
   
The demoness’ promises began to ring hollow in my mind. I couldn’t help it, I smiled. “That’s where your wrong. See, the thing about Lucia is...” The power coursing through me reached its peak, and I cast a shockwave at the temptress. “...she can protect herself.”
   
The creature let out a shriek of pain, which trailed off into a distant echo. The bright light of the Fade swirled then dimmed, until I was left alone in darkness. My body felt heavy, and it was a while before I could force my eyelids open. When my vision finally came into focus, I propped myself up on my shoulders and immediately regretted the decision, head swimming.
   
“Lucia?”
   
“Anders, you’re finally awake.” She sighed with relief, uncrossing her arms.
   
“Arg, yeah. How were you so chipper after yours? I feel like I could sleep for a week.”
   
“Well, you’ve slept for four days, that’s almost a week.”
   
I was suddenly aware of how awful I must smell. “Ah, well, thank you for waking me up then, Lucia.”
   
She nodded and began to gather the various bits of rubbish cluttering my nightstand. “First Enchanter Irving and the Knight-Commander wanted to see you.”
   
I groaned. “Ah, yes, I’d imagine old Greggy is quite upset I didn’t turn into an abomination and he couldn’t just kill me.”
   
Lucia scowled at me. “I’m sure he doesn’t want you dead. So you escaped a few times, it just means your a capable mage, right?”
   
I slowly got out of bed and scratched my head. “Yes, just what the templars want, more ‘capable’ mages. Anyway, I’d better go find Irving before they decide passing my Harrowing wasn’t just a fluke.”
   
I left her to her own devices; too much chit-chat ruins all that sexual tension. Bah, who am I kidding? Subtly is lost on on her. Sometimes it’s hard to believe she could burn down the entire Circle Tower if she wanted to.
   
As I walked down the stone halls, I could feel all the apprentices whispering about me. Typically, mages are congratulated for passing their Harrowing. Of course, there were plenty of young women waving and commending my bravery. Well, the ones I hadn’t already slept with. I couldn’t blame the ones that eyed me with bewilderment, however. I was just as surprised as them that I didn’t die. To the templars at least. Their swords were always a more immediate danger than any demon’s corruption.
   
I entered Irving’s study to see him seated at his desk, massaging his temples, as Commander Greagoir paced around the room, looking cross as ever.
   
“Ah, Anders, welcome.” Irving stood as I entered, giving a slow nod of acknowledgement. “And congratulations on passing your Harrowing.” He shot a pointed look at Greagoir, who stopped pacing.
   
“Congratulations,” the templar grumbled, sulking.
   
“Thank you, First Enchanter!” I said with a cheerful grin, giving a small bow with a flourish. Greagoir rolled his eyes under those fuzzy, caterpillar eyebrows. I ignored him as usual and continued, “So, are you going to give me my room key, stick, and fancy clothes so I can get out of here?”
   
Irving gave me a vacant stare, unamused. “There are great responsibilities that come with full mageship, you know that. Most of the adult mages teach, how--”
   
“However,” Greagoir interrupted, “We believe that allowing you to teach the apprentices would be... most unwise.”
   
I shrugged. “Works for me.”
   
Irving sighed, exasperated. “We also cannot have you idling around the tower all day. That is why--”
   
A knock on the door interrupted Irving for the second time. He motioned to Greagoir, who opened the heavy wooden door. A young templar entered, his greaves clanking against the stone floor. He held his hands behind his back, stiff as a board.
   
“Why, hello Cullen!” I greeted with a wink.
   
He shifted his feet awkwardly. “Hullo, ser mage.”
   
Irving scowled but quickly regained his stoic demeanor. “Yes, thank you for coming, Cullen. As I was saying, we have decided to let you tutor a few apprentices and mages, Anders.”
   
“Private tutoring?” My voice cracked a bit from surprise.
   
“And Cullen will supervise.”
   
“What?” Cullen and I responded in unison.
   
Greagoir glared pointedly at Cullen, who coughed uncomfortably. “I mean, of course, First Enchanter.”
   
Despite Cullen’s polite acceptance, his face was a mix of anger and incredulity. Of all the templars who loathed me, Cullen might be the worst. Well, I suppose all templars naturally hate mages, but only a select few held personal grudges against me. It was no secret that Cullen pined for a certain young mage which I happened to hold a tentative friendship with. Lucia Amell was far from being one of my secret paramours, but Cullen saw even a passing ‘hello’ as a ploy to bed the young mage. Not that I did not want to, quite the contrary. She was beautiful, with long silvery-blue hair and an elegant, heart-shaped face. Unlike the other mages, the gilded cage she resided in hadn’t turned her soft. Her rational attitude and almost unnatural lack of fear made her both admirable and desirable to many. Regardless, Cullen’s puppy-love was simply too pitiful to ignore. I would often tease him, sometimes making up outrageous lies about Lucia just to make his ears red.
   
While Cullen openly sulked, I was only slightly perturbed, and did not begin complaining to Irwin. He politely urged us out of his study, handing over my key, robes, and staff, and told me where to be for tutoring the next day. I assumed I would be teaching healing magic, a skill many mages passed over in favor of fireballs and other explosive talents. The rest of the day was spent half-heartedly planning a lesson for tomorrow and making my status as a Harrowed mage known to all those apprentices who had given me condescending stares for far too long.

Modifié par LadySayuri, 17 août 2011 - 01:21 .

[LadySayuri]

Remember, this story is also on FF.net http://www.fanfictio...Cursed_Blessing and deviantart http://ladyalistar.d...-Ch-1-253321765

~~~

    The halls were already dark and empty when I finally moved all my belongings from the apprentice hall to my new mage quarters. I barely remembered my family, so I had very few sentimental baubles to relocate. The majority of my possessions, excluding necessities such as robes and potions, were books. I did not consider myself a scholar by any means, but there was a simple joy in reading another’s thoughts as my own. I opened my dresser drawer and extracted a book. The title’s lettering was peeling in places and the once uniform edges were rounded with use, but the leather binding still held strong. I placed the book carefully in my rucksack, not trusting the Tranquil mage assigned to retrieve my things. The book had its own merit, but it was how I received it that made it special.

    It was two days after one of my escape attempts. I had been banished to the dungeon, Irwin’s equivalent of a timeout. I may possess a superior amount of mental fortitude, but the imprisonment had begun to drive me slightly stir-crazy. Cullen had been assigned to guard my cell, a situation he was surely overjoyed with. Through the stone wall, I could hear indistinct voices. Curious, I pressed my ear to the stone.

    “I’m sorry, M-mistress Amell, but I cannot allow...”

    “Please Cullen, I only want to give him a few things.”

    “He’s a prisoner, not ill. He need not have trinkets to occupy himself or... or visitors.” I could feel my own chest tense in the heavy silence that followed.

     The mage spoke again, gently, like a mother comforting her crying child. “I only wish that, if I were ever in his position, someone would care enough to grant a respite from my loneliness... If only for a moment.”

    I could almost see Cullen shifting about uncomfortably in my mind. A beautiful woman’s plea can bypass all armor and strike even the strongest man’s heart. I briefly wondered whether the Amell girl truly sympathized with a random maverick mage or if everything she had said was just a charade to manipulate Cullen. But for what? Before I could think too deeply on the matter, the heavy door separating the dungeon from my slightly brighter prison opened. I could hear Cullen clearly now and no longer needed to strain my ears.

    “Fifteen minutes, no more. And if I hear even a hint of anything... worrisome you, well, there will be consequences.”

    The pretty mage bowed her head in gratitude. “Thank you, Ser Cullen.”

    With a short curtsy, she began to cautiously descend the stone steps slick with Maker knows what. The only light source were crude torches that gave off a dim, orange glow. When she finally came into sight, her face half obscured in shadow, I couldn’t help but wonder at how eerily beautiful she looked. The flames brought out the blue in her silver hair, contrasting with her porcelain skin. Her steely eyes were nearly black in the dungeon and flitted about like fireflies. I realized she couldn’t see as well as I in the dark, so I called out to her.

    “Why are you here for me?”

    She turned her head towards me and walked until her fingers grasped at the rusty metal bars. Carefully, the curious mage sank to her knees and hugged a cloth satchel to her chest. “You must be lonely, right?”

    I scoffed at her unprovoked pity. “Must I? There are plenty of rats to keep me company. And let’s not forget the fleas.”

    She only blinked in response, her mouth pursed in dissatisfaction. “I can’t imagine they make very good company at all.”

    With a sigh, I stretched my arm through the barrier between us. “Very right you are. I’m Anders.”

    She gave my hand a short squeeze, her fingers warm compared to my numb ones. “My name is Lucia Amell. Pleased to meet you.”

    “Yes, this meeting is quite pleasant.” I said dully. She gave me only the faintest of smiles before fumbling through the bag in her lap.

    I eyed her with suspicion. “You never did tell me why you are here, you know.”

    She dropped her bag with a thud and crossed her arms, looking me directly in the eye. “I want to know what it’s like. The world outside of the Circle, I mean.”

    “Wet. Cold. Smells like dog. Why do you want to know? Most of the other mages here seem perfectly content with their lot.”

    “You mustn't be content to escape.”

    “Well, I’m not especially happy, no, but life here isn’t terrible. A change of scenery is nice, sure, but mages simply don’t belong there.” Her gaze remained fixed on my face, as if some universal truth were written across it.

    “My great-grandfather was a healer.”

    It was now my turn to stare. She dismissed my confusion with a quick shake of the head. “He was also an apostate. He traveled across Ferelden as an apothecary, and occasionally he would come across a patient who didn’t respond to traditional treatments. Those were the times when he turned to the arcane. The people who witnessed his power embraced him as often as they persecuted him out of fear.” Lucia pulled a tattered, leather-bound book out of her satchel. She caressed it with her fingertips, tracing the embossment which read ‘Property of Clinton Amell’.

    Lucia continued to gaze at the book as she spoke. “You are free to borrow it... if you’d like.”

    My eyebrows rose in surprise. “N-no, I couldn’t possibly--”

    She shoved the journal between the bars of my cage unceremoniously, and began to straighten herself from her kneeling position. “I’d like you to read it, Anders. Whenever I contemplated giving myself over to the templars and ending it all...” She was no longer speaking directly to me, but I clung to every word. “...That’s when I would read, because it convinced me mages do have a place in this world.”

    She turned to face me once more, her mouth curved in a smile but her eyes remained curiously dead. “This place is a prison enough without being trapped in a dungeon.”

    At that moment Cullen decided to open the door above, flooding the dark crypt with a blinding light. Lucia gathered herself and gave me a quick nod goodbye before making her way back to the surface.

Modifié par LadySayuri, 18 août 2011 - 03:47 .

[LadySayuri]

    I awoke the next morning earlier than any rational human being should. My new quarters faced the east, so I was the first to greet the new day. Lucky me. I made a mental note to ask Owain for a set of curtains before grabbing my materials and heading for the library. I occasionally visited for research and other, less scholarly pursuits. I had barely reached the archway that led to the library when I heard a cold voice from behind.

    “I was ordered to meet you, Anders.”

    I nearly stumbled into a shelf at the sound, then relaxed when I saw it was only one of the Tranquil mages.

    “Maker’s breath. Does the Rite take away manners as well?”

    “No, the Rite of Tranquility did not affect my knowledge of appropriate custom. I apologize for any discomfort.”
    I began to say something, but quickly dismissed the impulse. Arguing with a Tranquil was like arguing with a brick wall.

    “No matter. Why are you here again?”

    “To relay a message. Ser Cullen and the other students will meet you in the third instruction room. I am to escort you there.”

    “From one nanny to another. Peachy.” I muttered under my breath.

    “I do not recall ever supervising children. However, I cannot speak for Ser Cullen.”

    I grimaced. In all honesty, I would pity the Tranquil mages much more if they weren’t so infuriatingly literal. Resigning from the argument, I gestured for my Tranquil guide to lead the way.

    Upon entering instruction room, I saw Cullen with four mages who I assumed to be my pupils. One was a burly fellow who could likely bludgeon his enemies as easily as setting them on fire. His hair only amounted to sparse fuzz which covered an egg-shaped skull. Next to him stood an elven girl, whose frame seemed comically small in comparison. Unlike most elves who possessed an almost willowy bearing, this girl curled into herself like a frightened child. Her short, blonde hair and watery eyes blended with her pallid face, and she had fit herself between a column and the wall.

    I also spied two familiar faces among my charges: Jowan and Lucia. Jowan was a mediocre mage at best and had always struggled with Creation magic. His appearance was more an annoyance than surprise. However, Lucia’s involvement caught me off-guard. She had always excelled in her studies, to the point where many labeled her a ‘teacher’s pet’. It was easy for strangers to hold her in contempt, jealous of her unbridled natural ability. Though partially true, Lucia spent the majority of her free time in the library studying Magical Philosophy and other dreadfully boring volumes. I had no right to complain, either way, since her presence would surely prove entertaining. Even if she decided to shun my attentions, there would always be opportunities to embarrass Cullen.

    As a student, I always put forth minimal effort and tried my best to avoid the teacher’s attention. That is, however, until I decided to disrupt class just for ****s and giggles. Being on the other side of things was both unnerving and invigorating with its promise of power. I cleared my throat, dragging both myself and the others out of our early morning stupor.

    “Ah. Well then. I am Anders, as most of you already know. The tower isn’t that large... Anyway, I am here to teach you... healing magic?” I looked to Cullen instinctively, before disregarding his input and continuing on. “That’s right, healing magic. It is only a formality, but why don’t you all introduce yourselves? You know, names and interests and all that.”

    I only realized how rushed I must have sounded after I taking a sharp breath afterwards. I made a mental note to ignore any nerves I might have, with the hope that they would disappear as a result. In the midst of my musings, the brawny one stepped forward, arms straight along his sides like planks of wood.

    “Ichor Weston. My interests are none of your business, Messer.” He held out a hand, which I took hesitantly. Despite my caution, his ‘friendly’ handshake still managed to make my fingers ache.

    I saw Jowan sidle away from Ichor, and I could hardly blame him. “I’m Jowan, which you already knew. My interests... well... magic?” His voice cracked at the last word, and I could feel myself scowling in shared embarrassment.

    I looked at the elven girl expectantly, which only caused her to give a nervous twitch. After clearing her throat, she began, “Er, my name is Tawna. I um, I don’t have any interests really. Well, I do, but I’m sure you wouldn’t want to hear about them. They are all pretty generic. Um... can I stop talking now? I always talk too much when I’m nervous. Oh, well that just sounded weird... um... yes.” With that, Tawna slipped out of sight before I could even register what she was saying.

    I waited for Lucia to speak, but she was otherwise occupied, paying attention to every minute detail in the room except for the people inside. I cleared my throat and she  turned to face me, eyes big and round like a startled deer’s.
“Yes?” she finally answered.

    “Introduce yourself to the others, Lucia.”

    “Ah. Of course,” she said with a curt nod. “My name is Lucia Amell. I’d say my favorite thing to do is read, or research, but then again that normally involves reading.” She chuckled at her own small joke, but stopped and frowned once she noticed all the strange looks she was getting.

    I clapped my hands together, grabbing the attention of my new charges. “So, why don’t we get started?” At my cue, everyone rushed to their seat around the crescent shaped table in the middle of the room, besides Cullen, who took his post near the door.

    Ichor raised his hand before asking, “Shouldn’t we hurt someone first?”

    I shook my head vehemently, fearing the repercussions of allowing Ichor to do as he pleased. “No. Actually, I was thinking of starting with a lecture.”

    A unanimous groan echoed through the room, which I shushed. “Now, don’t give me that look. I’m not that boring to listen to.”

    This comment elicited a snicker from Cullen, which I forced myself to ignore. “Well, I began to wonder, what makes healing magic different from combat magic? More importantly, what makes mages familiar with the school of Creation different from those who struggle with it? As you all know, we mages derive our magical powers from the Fade. The Chantry teaches us, well, more like terrorizes us, to believe the Fade is an evil place. However, that realm is not inherently bad. Much like our own world, it is inhabited by spirits of varying conscience. Of course, we all know about demons who prey upon hapless young mages, looking for ways to wreak havoc on mortals. However, good spirits, ones of valor, compassion, and justice, also make their home in the Fade. Of course, it is easier to make the Fade seem like a nightmarish Hell, and those who have a connection to it are a danger to all ‘normal’ people--”

    “Anders!” Cullen shouted, his face red and stormy. “You are supposed to teach these mages how to heal, not... spread propaganda and ideas of sedition! This isn’t a political theory class and...” He glanced at Lucia before lowering his voice, “...not everyone thinks that way. You know, that every mage is a dangerous enemy.”

    I exhaled and scratched my head, trying to choose my words carefully. “Understanding the Fade is critical to understanding magic. It only frustrates me because... I mean, it’s a fear of magic’s origin that makes it so unpredictable. It’s only mages like myself, who can view magic objectively without fear or hesitance, that can gain full control of their power. But I suppose I did get a bit offtrack...” I finally conceded to pacify Cullen, only so he didn’t start crying to Commander Greggy that I was building an underground mage army and planning to overthrow the Chantry. Cullen’s face relaxed slightly, and he mumbled some sort of warning with this pathetic pouty look.

    “Anyway,” I said loudly, and the whisperings over Cullen and I’s disagreement stopped. “As I was saying, to properly understand magic, you must understand the Fade. It is easy for most mages to only concentrate only on its evil elements. And that is why we find it so much simpler to set things on fire than restore them. Once you stop envisioning the Fade as scary place where monsters and demons stalk about, ready to feast upon some hapless mage’s soul, it becomes much easier to use Creation magic.”

    “So basically...” Cullen began, with mock curiousity, “...a reckless irreverence for demons and the Fade will make them better healers? Am I really supposed to believe any of this? That you aren’t just trying to--”

    “Corrupt them? Let them have their own ideas about magic?” Once again, I had to exercise all my self control to not get into another row with Cullen. After taking a deep breath, I said, “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing I’m not teaching you, otherwise your opinion on the matter would, well, matter.” I smiled to diffuse the situation, which almost always works, but Cullen still looked like someone scuffed his shiny templar armor.

    In the background, I could hear Lucia trying to calm someone down, presumably Tawna.

    “I d-don’t think I can do this. Maybe I should quit. Just quit. I’m, I’m too scared of the Fade for this to work. I’ll just slow you down and...” the young elf girl babbled.

    “Don’t say that. I’m sure you’ll find a way.” Lucia consoled Tawna, but her voice was strained. I suspected fits like these were nothing out of the ordinary.

    “B-but--”

    “Stop your whining,” cut in Ichor. “The Circle has no use for flighty little mages like you. Damn knife-ears are always like that.”

    “Hey!” I heard Jowan shout, normally the timid mouse. “Leave her alone. It’s not her fault that she’s a bit...”

    “Nervous?” Lucia supplied, her voice tired from trying to soothe the nearly hysterical Tawna.

    “Right.” Jowan agreed, crossing his arms and giving her a quick nod.

    Ichor looked about ready to sprout wings and start breathing fire, and I needed to get the situation under control. “Well this isn’t going anywhere... class dismissed. I’m finished with my lecture so maybe things won’t get so heated tomorrow, right?”

    The atmosphere was still tense, but everyone was eager enough to leave. Once Cullen ushered the others out the door, I sank into a chair and laid my head on the table’s cool surface and let out a tired, unadulterated groan.

    “I don’t like this...” I sulked, or rather whined. “Maybe I should just let Wynne take over...”

    I heard a short laugh behind me, and turned to see Lucia, a hand covering her mouth and her eyes shining with mischievous glee. I could feel my face turning red, which rarely ever happens. Then again, it is rare that I let my guard down in front of anyone else, much less a woman.

    “I thought you had left,” I said defensively. “And just how long were you planning on standing there anyway?” My voice had risen in pitch, revealing that I still hadn’t fully recovered from Lucia’s surprise appearance.

    The amusement faded from her eyes and her face fell. “I just didn’t feel like talking with anyone else, in truth. So I stayed here to be alone...”

     “Really?” I said, my voice colored with disbelief. “I always pictured you as the nosy, ‘let’s stop everything and save kittens from trees’ type. Not that there is anything wrong with saving kittens, but you see my point.”

    Lucia allowed herself a slight smile before biting her lower lip. “I don’t know, I try to be understanding and generous, but...”

    “But?”

    Lucia’s eyes tightened as she crossed her arms over her chest. “But I can only take so much! It’s a lot of pressure being that one person everyone depends on. And by Andraste, I swear, if Jowan comes crying to me because Lily seems ‘moody’ one more time I’ll... I’ll set his knickers on fire!”

    Lucia was breathing heavily after her little tirade. I simply stood there, half shocked at the usually gentle Lucia’s fury, and half amused at the image of Jowan running about with his trousers on fire. It only took Lucia a few moments to calm down. When she did, her face paled and her eyes grew wide with realization.

    “I’m... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell like that. Ah, I feel like a complete fool.” Her stormy eyes avoided mine and she stepped back, unsure.

    Without hesitation, I walked up to Lucia and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, surprised. I looked her in the eyes and said, “Of course not. Quite the opposite, actually. It’s nice to see you are normal and not this... limitless well of benevolence.” She laughed at this, and I smiled in return. I was almost tempted to say something along the lines of ‘Plus, I like my women feisty’ but after seeing that her patience was mostly a façade, I decided against it.

    Lucia carefully shrunk away from my hand on her shoulder, uncharacteristically skittish, and began gathering her things. In the silence, my mind began reviewing our conversation.

    “Lucia... who is Lily? Isn’t there a initiate with that name?”

    “Oh? I’m not sure. Maybe yes, maybe no. It’s not that important,” she said dismissively. I raised an eyebrow, but decided not to question her further.

    We said our goodbyes, then Lucia turned around in the doorframe. “By the way, I don’t think you should pass the class on to Wynne. You’re a good teacher, Anders. Besides, who else would I talk to when I don’t feel like talking to anyone?” She chuckled at her own little joke before making her way down the corridor.

Modifié par LadySayuri, 23 août 2011 - 02:54 .