Bethany wanders through the Fade, unsure of what to do there. She’s afraid.
I wrote a thing.
She recognized this quiet: silence only broken by footsteps and the sound of her own heartbeat.
Fear roared and raged inside her, burning like wood in an angry fire.
She was stranded in The Fade.
With memories of her whereabouts still vague within her mind, Bethany tried to stop herself from dreaming.
She knew the dangers of roaming The Fade with a troubled heart as well as any Mage—yet found it was impossible to wake her body.
And she was so hungry.
“Focus,” She thought, knowing it was best to keep quiet in the twisted realm of demons and dreams. “Focus on the road before you. Nothing else.”
And so she did.
At first, the Fade was nothing but barren soil clumped together with rocks and weeds. Her path floated on a vast pool of nothingness and as she walked, slow and steady on her cozy slippered feet, a sickly green fog fell before her, obscuring the scenery.
With a thought, however, in a motion as easy as blinking, Bethany breathed life into a tiny Wisp of Light. It flew around her, warming her skin and skirting through her hair.
“Hello there,” she spoke with caution, her voice just below a whisper, unsure of how she felt about the creature she did not intend to create.
[Keep Reading]
She felt different here—stronger. Bethany could feel the Fade around her, pushing and pulling and begging to be shaped. It was magic in the purest sense—and it was dangerous. She had to keep her thoughts contained.
The Wisp, of course, simple by nature and design, gave little thought to her worries. It flew wide circles around its Maker, piercing the fog like a sun’s ray.
At the end of the path, from what she could see, stood the beginning of a wood, though it trees were nothing but slits of shadow thrusting ominously from the soil.
No good ever came from the woods or the creatures that made their homes there but the wisp whirled around her playfully, unaware of the dangers they probably faced.
“They’re nothing but dreams,” she told herself, gathering her words around her like armored plates.
There was no other path for her to take.
A sweet-smelling scent burned through her senses as she tried to part the branches of the twisting, leafless trees. Her stomach growled quietly, a gentle reminder of the fact she hadn’t the chance to eat breakfast that morning.
She was hungry.
Bethany’s thoughts turned back to Lothering, back to the little yellow cakes her Mother used to bake, all thick and glazed with honey. She could smell them baking.
Suddenly, Bethany took a step back from the wood, her heart beating very quickly.
She didn’t care much for sweets.
Her Sister would sometimes purchase eggs and sugar from the marketplace on certain, special mornings.
“I just felt like having cake,” She’d say. And though her love of sweets was substantial indeed, the mud that caked her sisters boots (despite the absence of rain) spun a wholly different story.
She hadn’t been ‘out early’ for the sake of haggling at the Marketplace.
She was keeping Bethany’s secret safe.
The cake was something of a cover, a charade; it was a secret celebration of a quiet victory, an observance of Bethany’s safety—a safety ensured by the ending of another person's life (and their body’s disposal in a muddy swamp beyond the field of golden wheat.)
“It’s just a dream,” She reminded herself, her heart hard and heavy. “There’s no other way to go.”
Thus, Bethany made a path between the trees.
The branches scratched and scraped against the fabric of her robes, catching her off guard.
But as she ventured deeper and the fog finally cleared, flowers began to sparkle, bursting out in muted color along the rocky pathway.
It could have been lovely, she thought,—had it not been for the evil lurking within.
“Do you think it mattered, Bethany? Your ‘sacrifice?” Spoke a velvet voice that rumbled like a storm off the sea. “You have no future waiting.” It’s words burrowed deep inside her, nesting there like a bird of prey.
“Show yourself!” She demanded, turning with her staff in hand and magic burning. But it laughed at her efforts, it’s voice fading off into the wind, dismissing her bravery.
Nevertheless, she steeled herself. Bethany paused to take a breath—or 10—and continued wading through The Fade, still unsure of what she was meant to do there.
For a long time, there was silence. More flowers bloomed and burst, spreading out into little orbs of light that dotted the branches like stars in the sky. Her wisp flew up and down amongst them, playing in the dimmer lights.
But then she heard it, different from the voice but just as alarming: Whispers.
At first, they were quiet, unable to be understood, but as she moved closer to what she thought was the center of the wood, they whispered louder.
‘No please!’ They begged, their voices echoing through the rustling leaves.
‘Stop!’
‘Don’t kill me!’
‘I’m sorry!’
The voices cried out in painful agony, their breaths rough and strained as though they were already dying. But no matter how far or brisk she walked, Bethany couldn’t save them. She couldn’t do anything.
They surrounded her, shapeless masses of shadow calling out for salvation in the darkness of the wood.
“I’m sorry,” she spoke—there was nothing she could do.
The fragrant cloud of those warm yellow cakes grew stronger, reaching through her stomach to pull her closer and deeper into the trees.
Another wisp joined the first, shedding light unto the road she had to take.
“You poor, foolish girl,” The Voice returned, It’s words piercing through her very soul.
“Your sister isn’t here to protect you, your Father is long dead and your brother died as he always knew he would—defending your life; how long do you think you can endure this? What will you make of yourself without someone to hide behind?”
“Leave me be you beast!”
“You destroyed your last remaining family: Your Mother is hollow and broken with grief. And your sister…you’ve made a monster of her long ago, Bethany—and now it was for nothing. All you’ve done is for nothing.”
Something brushed against her in the dark.
Something tall with a willowy frame that was more bone than skin. Eight tapered limbs like spiders legs sprouted from the mass of flesh that swallowed its eyes and sat in a hump along its back.
Most frightening, however, were the jagged teeth that crowded its jaw.
Bethany’s breath rose and fell in heavy gasps. As her terror grew, as did her hunger; she wished for somewhere safe and warm—the safety of her home and her family in Lothering. The safety of her sister's shield. Guilt and terror overcame her but the scent of cake sat still and heavy in the air and the demon towered over her like a building strained against the wind.
It was a Demon of Fear.
It appeared behind her in a sudden movement; it’s long white fingers snatching at the back of her neck.
All at once the whispers turned to screaming; she could feel their final breaths puff across her cheeks and their blood spray across her skin.
But she couldn’t let this be for nothing.
She couldn’t die in The Fade.
So Bethany turned to meet the demon, her frantic Wisps shining light upon Its hungry gaze. A lesser Mage may have forgotten her skill and her training but Bethany never would—she cast a spell that left the world around her quaking.
Thick sheets of ice covered the trees and froze the ground before her. The demon who once taunted her fell silent, it’s body cold and frozen in time.
And for a moment there was peace; the darkness broke and the trees fell open, falling back into a beautiful clearing.
And so she sighed a ragged breath of relief.
“Ah, you think you’ve bested me?” The Voice spoke again. “Are there no bounds to your foolishness, girl?”
“You know it really isn’t polite to hide while talking.” She spoke in a voice that reminded her of her sister, an odd mix of humor and bravery.
“You believe you’ve won, that you’ve beaten your fear— that you are stronger for it. What do you plan to do when this has ended? Do you not feel the Templar blade upon your neck? They will kill you.” Before her eyes, something flashed—a large and monstrous beast much worse than the demon before. But it vanished in an instant, replaced instead by the image of her sister, it’s voice kind and soothing. “You’ve been so brave, Bethany. But you can’t do it alone. Let me fight for you.”
It took a step forward, placing Its armored hand upon her shoulder with a charming beam. She smelt like cake and honey.
Bethany looked at Its hand, the warm weight of it so familiar—comforting. She was safest in her sister’s company—she had nothing to fear.
But that wasn’t what she wanted.
“You don’t get it,” Bethany spoke after a moment, her shock waning. “This isn’t about me. It was—it was never about me. It was for her.” Her family deserved a life of freedom—unchained from lies and secrecy, unchained from her.
She brushed the demon’s hand away and took a step backward, unafraid.
The wisps twirled and danced around her as though to respond to her feelings.
“Her love for you will be her undoing.” It told her. “How many lives has her love taken? How much has her love destroyed? What else will she sacrifice for you?”
Bethany had no answer. She could feel the demon’s tendrils around her, spinning a web to catch its feast.
“I can lend you my strength. She will then have no reason to lay down her life like your Brother. She will not die like your Father. All that you’ve done will not be for nothing.” Its eyes were wide, gleaming. “You know I speak the truth.” The demon wasn’t lying (demons rarely do.)
But she held strong to her convictions, ignoring the hunger that swelled inside her belly, ignoring her need for that familiar safety.
“I will not give myself over to a demon.” She stepped back, pulling herself away.
“Bethany.” It frowned, (though in that form it seemed more of a pout than anything.) Because for all it’s talk, it had no greater power than any other demon of the Fade; a possession could not be forced upon the unwilling.
“The truth is not the truth forever. Things can change—” She had to believe that, it was the reason she left in the first place.“—I don’t need your power. I don’t need you to fight for me.”
“Then you will return to nothing!” Giving up all pretense, Its voice shifted back ( though it kept her sister’s body.) “Keep your wits about you girl, I can feel your fears growing.” The demon turned it’s back to retreat.
When it disappeared, a warm green light took its place.
Bethany squinted against the brightness and, for a moment, thought she may have made it out to safety.
And while she did wake in a bed with the hot rays of the afternoon sun blazing across her cheeks, Bethany remembered where she was—The Circle—and remembered she was never truly safe.
“First Enchanter Orsino wants to see you, Bethany.” Senior Enchanter Albree smiled at her from beside the bed. “You’ve passed your Harrowing. You’re now a full-fledged Mage!”
Bethany writes a letter to her sister hoping to explain her feelings.
Another rewrite of something old into something kinda new!
Canon material mixed with headcanon because I always sort of wished Bethany wrote more when she sends you that letter. Happy Reading~
My Dearest Sister,
I hope this letter finds you well. Our family name still holds weight in Kirkwall, I suspect it’s the only reason the Templars allow me to write–others aren’t so fortunate.
My time in the Circle has been bearable, even after the Templar made a point of putting me through the Harrowing as soon as I arrived. They thought I was at risk of possession or running away like Father. Glad it’s over with.
It feels good to stop running.
I still think about the day I left, the day you came home and saw the Templars waiting for me; you were so scared.
The fear took all the color from your face and it reminded me of the day I’d lost you at the Marketplace. Do you remember that? It wasn’t your fault. You were holding my hand so I wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, it was me who you go. Maker, that was a mistake. I couldn’t see you over all the people, everything was so loud and unfamiliar to me, but I wasn’t afraid; I knew you’d come for me.
It’s been your job to protect me since the day Carver and I were born, you’ve always been so brave so I didn’t have to be.
But I can’t hold your hand forever Big Sister; you’ve made so many sacrifices, you’ve done so many horrible things to protect me. I had to stop you. I know you’d have fought but I couldn’t watch you ruin your life for me, not again.
You didn’t want me to find out, I know that, so I pretended not to know what you were doing. But all that blood? It’s on my hands too. All those people, all the friends you could have had, the normal life you could have lived, it was all sacrificed for me.
[Keep Reading]
I know what you must be thinking now, but I’m not angry with you. How could I be? Had you not protected me, you, Mother, Carver, even Father would be nothing more than a distant memory.
But it weighs on you, doesn’t it? Sometimes I forget it must be a heavier burden on you than it’s been on me. You’re always so happy, so unbothered by everything. I’ve always envied that about you, how you never seemed to worry.
But I remember the nights you’d come in late with this haunted expression on your face. Your boots were always muddy, even when there wasn’t any rain and I knew you’d been out to the swamps across the wheat field–the one with the black mud that swallowed everything.
I never asked you why you went there, I knew you wouldn’t tell me and I couldn’t make you lie. But we’re sisters, Filia: you can lie to everyone, even yourself, but you can’t lie to me.
You probably think I’ve taken you for granted by leaving, that I don’t care about the sacrifices everyone’s made for me--I know you’re still angry.
But Kirkwall is our home now, and I don’t want to run away. I couldn’t put you or Mother through that again.
Don’t you get tired of running? Of hiding? Of being chained to me?
I know what you’re thinking now, ‘You’ve never been a burden to me,’ and I appreciate the sentiment but I know it isn’t easy.
It’s alright to be angry–Carver was, and I don’t resent him for it. I know he loved me, but I took away his chance of leading a normal life. Yours as well. Neither of you are mages, but you had to live the life of an apostate.
I want you to understand: I made this decision for you just as much as it was for me. It was a sacrifice I made to keep you happy; it wasn’t easy, but you’ve always done the same for me.
I’ll never be normal, I’ve accepted that. But I’m not scared of my magic anymore and I’m not scared of Templars coming to get me. You may not understand, but I finally feel free.
And there’s no reason you can’t be. Not anymore.
You’ve made friends here–never seen you with many of those before–you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve got the estate, and I see the way you look at you-know-who, you really like them don’t you? They feel the same way about you too, I can tell!
You have my blessing, but I’m not sure how Mother will handle the news. Has she already begun searching for a husband for you?
I’ve started mentoring apprentices. I enjoy time with the children, teaching them basic spells and the like. One of them, Ella, has taken a shine to me. Adorable!
Life’s not perfect here, mind you. The Templars are mostly polite, and I know they’re just doing their jobs, but some hold extreme views. There’s one creep named Ser Alrik who likes harassing mages, but I’ll steer clear of him!
I’m doing fine! Please don’t worry about me. I know you’re scared, but don’t do anything rash.
With love,
Bethany
