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They kissed in the darkness , a little cubby that was out of immediate view of anyone passing by. The armored man pressed the demure female against the wall, taking her in his mouth for a deep, sensual kiss, relishing in the sensations she caused in him. One hand tenderly stroked her cheek while the other carressed her bare arm. She felt so wonderful underneath him, that he dared to wonder if things might continue to proceed once she was a mage.
The Templar disengaged from the kiss, looking loving into the young apprentice's eyes. "You are so lovely, Vhrinn. But I think we should head up to the Harrowing chamber, lest Irving send someone to find us."
Their stolen moment was over, but still, neither of them were willing to move. "I agree. I loathe the idea of them sending me into the Fade, but it must be done."
"Promise that you'll resist the Demon, for me?" Cullen begged, taking her hands and massaging the knuckles with genuine affection, staring down at the sumptuous treat before him.
"Awww, and deny you the chance to run your sword through me? Perish the thought, my love." Vhrinn chuckled, stealing another amorous kiss. Cullen scooped her back in his arms, hugging her fiercely to his chest.
Cullen's heart swelled in his chest and beat against its confines vigorously. She loved him! This was proving to be the best day of his life. Now if they could just get through the Harrowing, he planned on making this the best day of her life.
"Pass the Harrowing, and I will get Greagoire to let me take you to the docks, and we can watch the moon rise. From the Lake, the moon looks like a gigantic pearl suspended in a sea of the deepest purple, accentuated with sparkling diamonds. You'll love the view." Cullen took a step away from the Initiate, although he was begining to miss her warmth already.
"Cullen! You'd really take me outside?" she gasped, a smile splitting her face. Her skin was like silken ivory, mahognany brown hair and chocolate eyes contrasted amazingly against the pale skin. Her lips and eyes were painted with a lavender hue, standing out against both the hair and face. This odd contrast made it seem that her eyes were piercing into your soul, but to him, it was enchanting.
He suspected that people were more unsettled by her tattoos than her makeup. To anyone outside the circle, she insisted that they were runes to increse the potency of her spells. They would shy away from the would-be mage and steer clear of her. But those inside the tower knew the truth. As a young initiate, a spell had backfired on her, leaving her faced marred in several places. So, she had her face permanently tattooed to cover up the scars. Cullen found that they added to her allure. Everything about her enchanted him.
"As long as you don't become an Abomination, I will do my best to convince Greagoire." Cullen dared a peek around the corner of their nook, scouting the hallways beyond. Certain that they would not be discovered, he took Vhrinn by the hand and led her out. Her excitement lit her face up as she followed the Templar a few steps before he let go of her hand.
"I promise, Cullen. I had no intentions of letting some. . .demon, infest my body."
"Good." He said, smiling back at her one last time. Charged as he was with bringing the mage, it was only fitting he lead the way. This was as much a test for him as it was for her, although the hardest part was hers. The prospect of having to run the woman he loved through the heart did not appeal to him however. Still, if she succeeded, he'd be standing around like a drooling idiot the entire time.
"Ah, here she is," Irvings old gravely voice seemed to fill the entire room. Vhrinn broke off from Cullen and went to the First Enchanter, while Cullen went to stand with the Templars. He donned his helmet, suddenly becoming a facelss armored man amoung many. Had Vhrinn not seen where he stood before he put his helmet out, she would not have been able to discern who was who.
Only Greagroire stood out, wearing no helmet himself. He was an aging Templar, hair full of grey as well as a neatly trimmed grey beard that lined the curvature of his well cut jaw. His brown eyes were aged and fading but still held a fireceness to them that told anyone that he could still cut down an apostate if it came to that. Due to his rank, he was afforded the liberty to attend the Harrowing to watch and observe.
"Come this way." Irving said, leading Vhrinn to a small pedestal with blue/white smoke wafting up from it. "This is the Harrowing, every mage must face it. You will enter the Fade and face a demon. You must resist it to pass your test."
Greagoire stepped forward. "Do not help her Irving. You know the rules, she must do this on her own." Vhrinn shot the elder templar a venomous stare. She hated the man. He always bickered with Irving over their differences, was the Chantry's lapdog, and made the mages lives miserable. As much as she hoped Cullen would succeed at his promise, she doubted that the man would be so forthcoming.
"Relax, Greagoire, and let the girl prove herself." Irving rebuked.
"Touch the flames when you are ready to begin, my dear." Irving said gentialy. Although he was First Enchnater, he was well loved because of his Grandfatherly nature. Kind to a child away from home for the first time, telling silly stories to ease the transition. Or scolding them when they avoided their lessons or responsibilities. He was always fair, never harsh, but still, the threat of his power seemed to loom in the eyes of an errant pupil, and they never really pushed him past his hospitality.
Vhrinn looked around the Harrowing Chamber one last time, taking in Irvings reassuring glances, and the cold stares of the Templars beyond. It was those armored men that made her fear failing in her task. They wouldn't hesitate to cut her body down, might even take delight in it, except Cullen of course. But he would not fail in his duty. Should she emerge as an Abomination, it would taste cold steel before it could so much as inhale a single breath.
That wasn't so bad, she admitted to herself. She'd be long dead anyways, and her body merely a vessel to the demon inside. Whether it still looked like her, or took on its true form didn't matter. She felt reassured that the Templars would see to it that it would not make it pass this chamber. Still, the thought of losing herself in the first place terrified her.
Vhrinn took a deep breath and approached the pedestal, stretching out her hand as she held in the air she had taken. The blue/white flame danced around eagerly, as if seeking her out. As they made contact, the blue/white light jumped to her hand, stinging her like a shock of lightning. She recoiled, but it was too late, the light had engulfed itself around her hand, quickly climbing up her arm.
It burned! Like Andraste flaming sword, every nerve was ablaze with angry sensation. She wanted to shake it off, but her arm refused to obey her command, and still, the light swarmed her body, consuming it, torching every fiber of her existance. As the tendrils at last reached her head, she could remember opening her mouth to scream. . .
Modifié par tevikolady, 12 janvier 2010 - 05:09 .
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