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Lucio - The Fade

Lucio's eyes snapped open. For a fleeting moment, he thought he was still in the Tower. He hadn't remembered blacking out. However, he was quick to correct himself. This twisted realm could be none other than the Fade. It didn't look too different than what he remembered, though before it had been a perverted version of Antiva City. Perhaps, it simply mattered on the location of where you were sent. But, then, shouldn't it look like the Tower, if only in shape? He shook his head, and stood up. He glared around, waiting for an onslaught of demons, spirits, whatever they called themselves, to come rushing over the ridges. When nothing came, he let out a breath.

He sat and waited for a moment, taking a better look at his surroundings. Where he currently stood, there was a tiled brick floor, which eventually melded into a dirt-like area that led off to another area. Pillars that led up only to scrape at the sky at intervals in the "room," while a statue of a mage with tentacles for arms stood overlooking him. Far above, there were islands, connected by land bridges that may have spanned five feet or five leagues. For all he knew, the demon he was meant to face could be on any one of the islands. Hopefully, it would be at least somewhat nearby. Greagoir hadn't exactly specified that there was a time limit, but Lucio didn't doubt that there was one.

Standing up, he began to head towards the pathway that led deeper into the Fade. He allowed his mind wander a little, back to the time when his old master had brought him to the Fade, years ago. His master, who had probably been a Crow, now that Lucio thought about it, had been a master of manipulating the Fade. He remembered how the old man had been able to create weapons and items out of the void, and use them with an effectiveness of something that was real. Of course, it was real. Reality was subjective in the Fade. Something that had been difficult for young Lucio to grasp, and was still fairly difficult. He didn't like that something could be made or unmade with just his mind. Though, in theory, that was just what mages did on a daily basis, with any spell. Still, it was a bit unsettling for him.

"You're not a demon, are you?"

Lucio stopped dead and raised his hands, the stone beneath him rising up to surround him in a defensive barrier. However, the only thing around was a small mouse. Which soon changed to become a man, a mage if robes meant anything. "They threw you to the wolves, too, eh?" the man asked. When Lucio refused to speak, or even let his stone barrier fall, the man continued. "Name's Mouse. Not originally, of course. Been here so long I can't remember who I used to be. It isn't fair, what the Templars are doing, is it?"

Before Mouse could get another word out, a fist of stone flew from Lucio's stone cage and slammed into his chest. Mouse hit a wall hard, and fell to the ground. As he tried to stand, one of the stone slabs that had served as a wall for Lucio rammed him back up against the wall. A small, whining sound came from the man as Lucio allowed his barrier to fall, and concentrated his efforts on keeping Mouse between the stone slab and the wall. "I don't know what you are or your angle," Lucio began, sounding much darker and far more serious than he ever had before, "but I'm not going to trust you just to be stabbed in the back." And with that, the ground beneath Mouse shut up like a rocket, carrying the man up and away into the Fade. At the angle Lucio shot, he shouldn't land back near him. Even if he did, he shouldn't survive the landing.

With that little distraction gone, Lucio continued on. He had no doubt that whatever that thing had been, it was a demon. And even if it was a mage, what's to say it wasn't being used by a demon to lull him into a false sense of security? Either way, Lucio felt no remorse for launching Mouse into oblivion.

The next area passed by a small arena, lit by fires. At the moment, the way in was inaccessible. Perhaps that was where he was meant to face his demon, in the end. Must be other tests to pass, he thought, then continued on. A small wisp appeared and began to attack him. The little bolt hurt, but nothing like an arrow or a blade. In a moment, the wisp was encased in stone and crushed. He continued on, and came to a crossroads. He cast out his mind, and felt the presences beyond. One seemed to be a bit more benevolent, while the other was lethargic and dark. Opting for the path most taken, he began the journey towards the benevolent presence.

At the end, there was a small rise, and on top of it there was a glowing white being, armored and surrounded by weapons. He would inspect one, then put it on a rack. After a moment, he would create another, inspect it, and place it on another rack. Lucio climbed up the rise, and the spirit greeted him with a raise of the hand. "Ho there, friend!" it called out. "It has been a long time since one of your kind has graced my home. A cowardly affair, sending a mage in defenseless against a demon. They should pit you against your equals instead, and let the victor join your order."

Lucio shrugged. "It might be cowardly for the Templars, but that is of no concern to me," Lucio countered. "I am looking for aid to combat the demon. I see you have several weapons here, and I was wondering if I could use one to slay the creature."

"Yes, my weapons would work well against it. However, you must earn one of my weapons in a duel."

"Of course," Lucio responded, the sarcasm practically dripping off of his tongue. "Why would you want to fight me? You said yourself, I am practically defenseless against the denizens of this world. So, what, are you really a demon?"

"W-What? Preposterous!"

"Then prove that you are a benevolent spirit, and give me a blade to defend myself!"

The spirit stood there silent for a moment, then nodded. It turned and rustled around his weapons, and then produced a pristine looking longsword. He presented it to Lucio, who took the sword and gave a low bow. "Thank you, sir spirit," Lucio said. "I will return this to you, if I can." The spirit nodded, and turned away to resume his business of creating weapons. Lucio backed away, and then turned and hurried back the way he had come. Now that he had a weapon, perhaps he could get past the wall of fire to reach the arena.

As he passed by the crossroads again, a thought occurred to him. Perhaps, the creature he was to face was the dark presence he had felt the other way. Well, if that was the case, he would return. First, he needed to check out the arena, though. He was almost certain that his enemy was there, waiting for him. In a few minutes, he reached the area, and the fires that had barred his path before was gone. Lucio entered, brandishing his sword, allowing the flow of magic to travel through it and enhance its power further. In the center of the arena, a flaming demon burst from the ground, growling and screaming in anger. A demon of rage, if Lucio remembered correctly.

"Ah, so another meal has come to me," it said, sounding surprisingly calm for a demon of anger. "And where is my little friend Mouse, hm? Do away with him, already?" Lucio did not respond, but assumed a battle stance, the earth beneath him beginning to shake and rumble. The demon growled angrily again, then lunged forward. The ground burst upwards, shards of earth and stone flying to slice and cut it. A roar escaped it, and it backed away. Fires burst up around Lucio, but were blocked by a wall of stone. Lucio dashed forward, a dark green aura forming around the spectral sword. The demon surged forth as well, but it slammed right into the sword.

The demon practically melted down, forming into a pool of good. The pool then evaporated, leaving the smell of brimstone and sulfur in the air. Lucio looked up to the sky, rose his hands, and yelled, "Well? Is that it? The dreaded Harrowing!?" He swore, and slammed the sword into the ground. What a waste of time. No challenge, no real threat other than a brief moment. Rage demons were too easy to fight. They only knew how to charge headfirst into their enemies, which would always lead to a defeat.

"Do you believe yourself to be a master for killing a demon like that?"

Lucio whirled around, only to be faced by Mouse. Lucio glared at it, then shook his head. He was no fool. Any competent apprentice could kill a rage demon. It was no accomplishment worth noting. "It was a trivial task because it was a weak demon, not through any skill of my own," Lucio responded. "A demon of rage is a foolish creature, and easily beaten. That could not have been the test that I was sent here to face." Lucio narrowed his eyes at Mouse, knowing that he knew what his real challenge was.

Mouse spoke again, though this time his voice was much deeper than before. "That is true. Not every enemy can be defeated with brute force alone, like that fool Valor would believe. The real dangers of the Fade - preconceptions, careless trust, pride - are what one must be truly wary of. You would not trust me, nor believe that the spirit of Valor was benevolent. You did not even challenge the other being that inhabits this area of the Fade." Mouse began to shift and transform, growing much larger. A demon of pride, the most powerful of their kind, stood in the place of the little man. "Trust only yourself in this place, mage. And keep your wits about you. True tests never end." The demon that was Mouse waved its hand, and Lucio felt himself flung from the Fade, shooting back towards his body.

The Harrowing was over, but Lucio believed what the demon had said. The test would never end.

Lucio - Fereldan Circle Tower

The next few days were spent adjusting to life in the Circle. A templar, a young man named Cullen, was assigned to guard him most hours of the day. He was kind enough, but seemed to always be on edge around Lucio. It made the Antivan grin any time he jumped, which he did any time Lucio acted like he was going to cast a spell. Probably a dangerous thing to do, since Greagoir was convinced he was a threat and the rest of the templars believed anything he said like it was the sacred words of Andraste herself. One of the things that bothered Lucio about this place. Greagoir's word was law, and other than the First Enchanter and a few others, no one questioned it.

While he was busy reading one of the many, many tomes on the School of Creation, Greagoir burst into his room, hastily followed by Cullen and another templar. "Get up, Antivan," Greagoir ordered. Against his better judgement, Lucio remained seated. Greagoir glared at him, then added, "It is time for your Harrowing. Unless you'd rather go through the Rite of Tranquility."

Lucio had heard bad things about the Tranquil, and most of what he had seen of those few around the Tower. They were so stoic and serious, it made Lucio sick just thinking about how they were able to go through every day. Rather than risk turning into one of those things, Lucio slowly rose, and followed Greagoir out of the room. Cullen and the other templar stood on either side of him, acting the ever vigilant guards that they were supposed to be. The Antivan gave the other one a disdainful look, then turned to Cullen and gave him a small smile. Even if he was just one of the Knight Commander's lackey, he was a good kid.

Like a prisoner - which, technically, he was - Lucio was lead up the Tower, passing through the library and earning a few unsavory looks from the mages gathered there. Or, perhaps, those were aimed more at the templars than at him. Either way, he merely gave them a wide smile back. He also noticed some that looked more of sympathy, to which he gave no response. He despised being the target of sympathy, and wouldn't dare to acknowledge it. Instead, he held his head high, and marched on through the rest of the Tower, ignoring the rest of the mages and templars he passed. Though, he did shiver a bit when the eyes of the tranquil landed on him.

Finally, they arrived at the top of the Tower, which Cullen informed beforehand was the Harrowing Chamber. Just a large, empty room with a pedestal in the middle. The First Enchanter and another mage stood by it, along with yet another templar. Greagoir stood next to Irving, and the templars took up positions around the middle of the room, Lucio effectively surrounded by the Circle. He folded his hands behind him, and waited for one of the mages to speak. After nearly a minute of uncomfortable staring, Greagoir spoke again.

"Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him. Thus spoke Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium, ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin. Your magic is a gift, but it's also a curse. For demons of the dream realm, the Fade, are drawn to you, and seek to use you as a gateway into this world."

"This is why the Harrowing exists," Irving said, continuing from where Greagoir left off. "The ritual will send you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon, armed with only your will."

"Know this, mage. If you fail, we shall perform our duty. You will die. Now, prepare yourself. The Fade is a realm of dreams, but know that you will be able to defend yourself," Greagoir finished, gesturing for Lucio to step forward. Without hesitation, the mage from Antiva walked right up the pedestal, and dipped his hand into the lyrium. The power of that essence of magic coursed through him, and he could feel himself slipping away from reality. Only once before had he purposefully entered the Fade, and doing so a second time did not frighten him.

As his spirit shed its mortal confines and began to change worlds, he could hear something hit the ground heavily, and a gasp from one of the people gathered. And then he was gone from the mortal world, thrown to the wolves in their own territory.

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