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#a simple message as they fly overhead and a message every time they cross paths after
entropii · 2 years
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Can't go home but at least standing on the deck at night is nice sometimes. Good place to clear your head. Good place to not think about how the sentient machine you pilot told you that you've never had a home. Good place to distract yourself from the realization that it's right.
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rainbowravioli · 7 years
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I Awoke and Found You There
For a long time, Yuri dreamt only of a simple path. In the endless possibilities of the Fade, he would only come to find a long and narrow road, with little else but blurry pillars floating above in a soot-grey sky above. The Black City hung amidst the smog, always in the corner of his vision, try as he might to avoid it, readjusting his dwarven-made spectacles, knowing full well it made no difference in this place. That it was the one constant in the Fade was an early lesson in the Circle, but it made him shudder all the same. The jagged black symbol of all arrogance, of reaching too far, always curled Yuri’s stomach.
His magic and willpower were strong; strong enough, at least, to pass his Harrowing early and in record time. Walking along that road, knowing how the dream would end before his vision could create anything else, demons would lurk, but never did anything more. They came, drawn by his power, but would keep to edge of the drab vista he kept painting for himself, waiting for a chance to strike. They waited for a spike of fear to rip through the canvas, or a moment of doubt to spill the solidity of the dreamscape, but they never came, and they were forced to keep to the sidelines. The road he walked in the Fade, as plain and endless as it was, remained solid.
 One night he dreamt that same dream, painted that same road in his small space of the Fade. The demons lurked from beyond, as they always did, but their sight was blinded by a new creature. A silvery ball of light swerved along the road, and with its brightness, scared the demons away like sunlight scaring cockroaches from their hiding place. Yuri’s eyes widened and his bottom lip dropped, but he swallowed the gasp forming in his throat. He knew from feel alone it was no demon, but as First Enchanter Celestino taught, it was never wise to show any base emotions to any creature in the Fade.
 It was a curious creature, bouncing and swirling about like a firefly on a sweet summer breeze. It flew around Yuri’s head, tiny twinkles and whirring whistles as it moved. It circled his head and around his shoulders, as if studying him. As if it was as intrigued by Yuri’s existence as he was of it.
“Oh, hello there,” he said, unable to completely withhold his fascination. “Where did you come from?”
Yuri clamped on his lip, fighting the urge to smile, knowing even positive emotions could lead to danger in the Fade. And this was an unknown variable in his sanctuary of habitual practice, of calm study. Safety and certainty in the Fade was a show of his hard work, even if it did not look like much. 
The ball of light fluttered away, spilling flashes over the path, exposing new openings, shedding clarity onto the narrow road.  
“Hey, wait!” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Yuri reached out to the ball of light and quickly retracted. A thousand possibilities played in his head, none of which ended well for him. But he watched it fly further away, clearing a wider expanse around it, like a shooting star igniting an entire night sky.
It was too energetic to be a wisp, a corpse of a demon wafting through the Fade like dead fish in the sea, waiting to become the salt it began from. But there was little other possibility, too simple to be a fully realized spirit or demon. He contemplated this, following its sparkling trail until it stopped.
The vista changed around the light. The simply yet sturdy backdrop Yuri had painted for himself dripped away, leaving a clean valley. The pillars and BlackCity remained, but their edges softened, not so massive and daunting and unreachable. It was as if this whole world where there, underneath the images Yuri dreamt, waiting to be unearthed.
***
Pale light slipped through the holes in the thicket of leaves up above. A scattering trail of dim sunlight lead the carriage through the forest, guiding the mages to their destination. Yuri bent his neck and closed his eyes, feeling the faint rays ghost over his face. His large elven ears twitched in the breeze. In a moment of serenity, it was only him and these gentle feelings; as close as one could get to being in the Fade, in the physical world.
He was quickly tugged back into the real world by a small weight pressed in his lap. Yuri looked down and found a nug, bristly and balmy pink, curling himself between his legs.
“Aww, he likes you,” Phichit laughed, holding a second nug, and a third, smaller nug napping in the scoop of his robe’s hood.
“Get comfortable, little guy,” said Yuri, scratching its bald head. “It’s going to be a long trip.”
“You don’t seem all that excited to go.”
Yuri looked at his friend with a raised eyebrow. “Are you honestly excited to go to Tevinter?”
“I can’t tell if you’re being quizzical with those things,” Pichit giggled, tilting Yuri’s spectacles. “But no, Tevinter itself does not thrill me. But Enchanter Celestino says it’s the only place mages of our talent can come to our potential.”
“But it’s…it’s so…”
“I know,” the nug in Phichit’s hood awoke and started flicking the back of his elven ears. “It’s not forever.”
“Right. Education now, political upheaval later.”
“That’s not what I meant, but I support you.”
The forest cleared, bunches of trees grew fewer, scattered across wide hills. The sun came into its full power, beaming upon both mages as they sat on the back of the carriage. Pichit’s nugs squinted and squealed against the light, retreating to the shade of the inside.
“Did you finish that letter to your family?”
“Yes, but…” Yuri sighed. “I told them not to bother writing back. It’s not like I get to see them much, even in Starkhaven. It’d be too sad.”
“You shouldn’t shut them out completely. Better estranged than strangers, I should think. I don’t get to see my parents much, but they sent me these nugs from the farm, and I know they still care.”
“I never even know what to tell them. They don’t understand magic, I think they’re afraid of it.”
“I get it. That’s why I want to learn as much as I can, and teach people magic isn’t anything to be feared. That’s my dream.”
“But we’re going to–”
“I know! I’m just trying to… remember that dream, to help me get through this.”
“Makes sense.”
 The two mages fumbled in their seats, feeling every friction beneath. The carriage wheels bumped against rocks, and the road became rougher. The air, once muddled of grass and dirt, became sharp and clean. A faint expanse of mountains followed the carriage at their side, covered in sheets of clouds.
“Did you have that dream again?”
“Not recently, no. I’ve tried, but it’s not something I can control.”
“You’re so lucky! I would love to encounter a spirit. You sure it didn’t say or do anything to you?”
“I don’t really remember. I can’t even be certain it was a spirit, I didn’t get the chance to study it. Just that… there was a lot of dark, and it felt…heavy, the way dreams usually go. Sometimes I wake up in a sweat. But I found this… this thing. Or I guess it found me, and I felt… lighter.”
“Ooh!” Pichit clasped his hands together. “I think it was a Spirit of Hope, then, to guide you in this uncertain time!”
“Hmm,” Yuri mumbled, breathing in the air deeply before letting it out in a deep sigh. “I think I like that idea. Though I wish it could have given me a more literal message. I don’t know what’s going to happen in Tevinter.”
“Or maybe it was another mage crossing the Fade, telling you it’ll be all right.”
“I doubt anyone would go through that kind of trouble just to be nice to me.”
“That’s just not true! Maybe it was me, but I think I’d remember something like that.”
Yuri chuckled, forced and dry. “I appreciate the thought.”
“You know what I heard,” said Pichit. “A powerful mage from the White Spire is going there, too. A Dreamer!”
Yuri’s listless face tensed at the word, eyes widened, staring at his friend. “Are you serious?”
“Celestino wasn’t sure, it’s just a rumor. But can you imagine? Being able to go to the Fade at will? Just like that?”
“They’re extremely rare,” said Yuri. “Sometimes my dreams would feel so real I thought maybe I was one, but I don’t have any control over it. I hope it’s true. I wonder what such a person is like. Do you think they could teach it, even partly? Then maybe…well…” Yuri slumped, the momentum of the sudden fantasy escaping his body, as quickly as it came. “No, that’s silly. It’s not like I can be taught to… fling myself into the Fade to find something.”
“You never know,” said Pichit as he pat Yuri’s back. “They’re rare, like you said. Who knows what they’re capable of?”
***
 The ether and magic of the Fade sifted around Victor like velvety smoke. A thick and billowing force so consuming, the mage practically swam in it.  Victor’s dream was shaded in layers of dark wine. The Black City hovered overhead, casting a long shadow, but he gave it no mind. To him, it was little more than a source of shade for him to lounge in, as the ether numbed his body.
“I’ve never actually been to the Free Marches, now that I think of it,” he said, amused with himself. “Isn’t it silly? You live across the Minater all your life, but you never cross it. Maybe I don’t get out as much as I think I do.”
“I hear Starkhaven is particularly lovely,” said a voice. A smooth, lulling baritone. Just hearing it made Victor’s wry smile curl ever upward. “They have elegant bathhouses. You could stay as long as you want, forget all your troubles, lose yourself…”
“Ooh, and they have these little fish pies you can only get there! I’d love to try those!”
The voice chuckled, as rich as the rings of ether surrounding the mage. “You deserve all these things. You have the power, the influence. You could go anywhere, anytime you wish. Do whatever you wish.”
“I suppose,” said Victor, voice flattened, suddenly less entertained. He twirled his fingers, and the magic of the Fade stirred with his movements. “But everyone always wants something from you. They’re begging me to join one of the Fraternities. As if I’d expose myself to such a mess.”
“Lesser mages than you, hoping to cling to your greatness.”
“Some of their ideas aren’t so terrible. First Enchanter Yakov insists I be responsible, join the Aequitarians, but they’re so stiff and dull. Why would I join a group to have my voice heard, only for that voice to beg for things to be a little better?” Victor sighed, collapsing into the arms of the creature, lulled by the low muttering pulses of magic, imitating a heartbeat. “Sometimes I think the Isolationists have the right idea. Be away from everything. Everyone. Start over, one more time.”
“We could leave. No politics, no ties, no troubles…” A long finger curled under Victor’s pale, pointed chin. A man shaped creature, radiating magic, glowing purple skin, draped with gold and crowned with horns. His plush purple lips came close to Victor’s, breathing his air. “Just the two of us. Doesn’t that sound better?”
Victor closed his eyes and puckered his lips, drowning in the smoldering magic, reveling in the power he wielded and the power this creature commanded, syncing and swirling together. Then his senses surfaced and his face soured. “Wait a moment,” he said with dry suspicion. “You’re just drying to possess me!"  
The man-shaped creature–the desire demon–hissed like a taunted snake, purple fire gathering at his claws. "You will submit! Is this not what you want?”
Victor sighed, eyes glazed, mouth flat. A wave of his hand, and spike of ice appeared underneath the demon. Another wave, and it grew like a wild root, weaving its way around the demons body. “What I wanted was decent conversation, but I suppose that’s asking too much.”
He snapped his fingers, and the ice shattered. The demon screamed, and its motionless body floated upward, lost in the ether. “What a pity,” he said, voice cold. “I suppose I should just wake up.”
He turned away from the mess, looking for a clearing in the now distracting charms of his dream. He parted the curtains of maroon ether, fanning it away like smoke. It cleared, but a little golden spark remained. A tiny star hovering above his hands.
“Oh,” said Victor. As a Dreamer, he became less surprised by the infinite possibilities of the Fade, even with his will and ability to mold pieces of it. Yet he was taken aback by the sudden appearance of a golden sprite in the sleepy, simmering dreamscape he had sculpted for himself. “You don’t look like anything I’d dream up, and you weren’t here before. Where did you come from?”
As if to answer, the spark floated out of his hands and drifted away. Curious, Victor followed. It swerved around the floating pillars and red spike that jutted from the ground, as if playing. Despite its size, its shine was bright against the dim shades of red and wine. Victor fixed his glassy eyes on it, entranced by its spritely bounces and twinkling turns. It leapt into the fog of ether, piercing through until it dissipated. Before Victor could wonder where it was leaping to, his foot found a gap in the island and his leg twisted. He tumbled down a slope, to the center of a chasm.
 When he hoisted himself to his knees, he found the heavy reads and curtains of ether were cleared, and a tinge of green was creeping into sight. The spark had stopped, and all around it, the Fade reshaped. It transformed the small piece it had in a way Victor never thought to. Red rock melted to water and grass, softly blowing against pittering winds. Victor could feel water on the blades between his fingers. The Black City was distant, a speck in a cloudless sky. Victor could even smell a clean, crisp scent, like spring air filling his lungs, tingling his skin, like he was truly awake.
***
Victor eyed over First Enchanter Yakov’s letter one more time, the dry ink stroked with anger and promises of regret, before happily crumpling it and jamming into his pocket. He glided through the jammed streets of Minrathous as if he were the only one in the whole city. The crashes of waves and sea air were distant and muddled with clamors of people, but he breathed it in, chest heaving with excitement, wide nostrils filtering out the deep-settled decay. He leapt up onto a towering staircase, jutting towers and stacked archways following him as far as their magically sustained stature could take them. Halfway up, he heard a man give stern, throaty instructions. When he reached the top, he found what looked to be an Enchanter instructing two weary elven mages. Without another thought, he inserted himself into the lecture.
“Well, this place is just the worst,” he boomed, immediately getting the attention of all three mages. “And that’s something, coming from someone who lives in Val Royeaux. But…”
One of the elven mages, with short black hair and strange glass spectacles over his eyes that could not conceal his stare, gave a curious tilt. He returned the look with a wink and a smile. “But something brought me here. It came to me in a dream and led me far from home. I wonder what it is, and where it will take us?”   
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