Chapter Text
Will spent the night certain he’d never fall asleep, so he was considerably surprised when he woke up to the soft rapping of knuckles against his bed post. He cracked open his lids and blurrily made out a looming, armored figure, and, for a few moments, he had no idea what was happening or who was leaning over him in his bed. It was early, so early the apprentice dormitory was still dark, and the only light in the room was the flickering flame of the candle held before a stoically familiar face. Will did not need long, after making out the shining templar’s eyes, to remember why he was being woken at such an unseemly hour. His heart hammered in his chest as he sat up in bed.
The templar opened his mouth, forming words he never managed to utter. Instead, he handed Will a candle of his own, and his other hand he held out for Will to grasp. Will accepted it and allowed the templar to help him from the bed. He needed the extra help, it turned out, for when the templar released him, Will was shaking so hard he nearly collapsed. As his knees threatened to buckle, the templar took a step toward him immediately, his arm extended, but Will waved him off with an anxious smile. He would not be so terrified that he could not walk to his own Harrowing.
Showing he understood Will’s hesitance, the templar retreated back a few steps and waited. Will breathed in several deep, slow breaths. His hands were shaking, and his poor candle flame was dancing frenetically about, casting mad shadows on the wall. But after taking a moment, his knees regained their strength, and his head felt less unbalanced, and his inhales were drawn with less noticeable tremors. He looked at the templar and offered him a miniscule head nod, and the templar’s mouth curved into a thin smile. He took a step, stopped, and looked back at Will questioningly.
“I’m right behind you,” Will answered quietly. The templar turned and walked slowly to the doorway, leading out into the tower corridor. Will followed behind. He had that specific, heart-racing feeling beneath his skin, when it is too early and one is too awake and the nerves are especially distressed. He shook, but he walked all the while, his eyes fastened to the back of the templar’s head as he led the way up one set of stairs, then another, then another, until they were at the door to the top floor of the tower.
The last door, the one they paused in front of, was thicker than the others, with a daunting iron lock that the templar took his time opening. His hand hesitated over the knob, and he glanced at Will huddled at his back. Again, he parted his lips as if to speak, and then thought better of it. Will squared his shoulders, took a deep, unsteady breath, and nodded. Appeased, the templar nodded in return and opened the door. He held it open for Will to walk through first, and then entered behind him. Will started slightly when he heard the door close with an echoing thud. He looked about him, no longer tired in the least, and saw for the very first time since he’d arrived at the Circle of Magi, the Harrowing Chamber.
He would either leave it as a full mage, or as a dead one. Or, he need not remind himself as he glanced around nervously at all the templars in the room, he would be made Tranquil. The worst of the fates, he thought, and one that must be avoided at all costs.
Will was so distractedly worried that it took him quite a bit before he noticed the First Enchanter at all. But there she was, standing in the center of the chamber, staring straight at him with those icy, frosty eyes. He was drawn to her, or maybe it was the light touch of the templar behind him that pushed him gently in her direction. Either way, he arrived before her, and she greeted his nearness with a grim grin. Her hand swept over the podium standing between them, upon which rested a glowing blue object Will instantly identified as lyrium.
“You know what this is,” she said, the abrupt sound of her speech jarring to Will. No one had yet spoken, and her voice was crisp and, in Will’s state, alarming.
He swallowed hard and nodded. He knew what it was. He knew what it did.
“As a Dreamer, you don’t need this to enter the Fade,” First Enchanter Bedelia continued. “But you’ll find, during a Harrowing, it is best one sticks with tradition. Also tradition? A templar chosen for the killing blow,” she said. Will’s eyes widened, and she flashed her teeth at him and held out her hand, motioning someone forth. “If need be only, Will,” she said.
The templar who had led Will to the chamber took his place beside him. Will cast him a sideward glance. It was who he’d suspected to be selected for such a thing. His eyes fell down to catch the templar’s fingers tightening over his sword hilt, and Will was hit with a sudden awareness, an assuredness he’d never felt before, that he was going to fail his Harrowing. And the man, the templar at his side, was going to deliver unto him his death. He knew it. He knew. But when the First Enchanter stepped around the podium and placed a delicate hand over his wrist, he met her eyes full on. He stared at her defiantly.
“Will, it is forbidden for you to have any details about the Harrowing before beginning, and there is a chance you will not make it. Are you ready?” She quirked her blonde head at him, and he felt her fingers tighten around his wrist.
He felt the panic rising inside him. What did it matter whether or not he was ready? Was he not to be forced into the Harrowing regardless? He cut his eyes quickly to the templar beside him, and became unsettled to see him already gazing in his direction. Will directed his attention back to First Enchanter Bedelia and nodded.
“I need a vocal verification,” the First Enchanter said briskly, “for the records.”
Will saw the Tranquil mage standing by the wall with his little notepad and quill, his face blank and his stance stupidly relaxed. All around the rest of the chamber, lining the walls, were dozens more templars. Will was unsure which made him more anxious.
“I’m ready,” Will finally said, thankful when his words escaped with no breaks or quavers.
“Then let us proceed,” she said, beginning to guide Will’s hand towards the lyrium. “May the Maker bless you.”
The skin around Will’s fingers lit up bright blue as they grew closer and closer to the lyrium, and then they connected with the magical vein and the world around him flashed with a blast of white light.
--
It was not his first journey into the Fade. As a Dreamer, Will was not a mage that required lyrium to enter. He could lucidly enter and exit the Fade at his will. It was why so many feared him, why everyone assumed he would fail his Harrowing. His presence in the Fade attracted spirits. And demons. He was a beacon to them, or so he had been taught. Most Dreamers, rare as they were, became abominations. It was only a matter of time, they said.
Will looked about himself at his surroundings. He saw no demons at the moment. No swarms engulfing him with evil demands. He appeared, strangely enough, to be standing on an island of sorts; a pedestal, suspended in a hazy sky that was not a sky at all, but a greenish grayish makeshift sky. The ground beneath him was solid enough, and he glanced down at his feet. That’s when he saw the cat.
It stared at him with owlish eyes, large and round amongst thick ginger fur. Will cocked his head at the cat. The cat blinked at him.
“Wotcher,” it said.
Unused to speaking felines, Will did not respond immediately. The cat swished its tail at him, and Will knelt down to meet it eye to eye.
“Hello,” Will said slowly. The ginger tabby nuzzled Will’s knee, set its front paws upon his thigh and hoisted itself into his lap. He could feel it purring.
“Are you one of them?” the cat purred, nuzzling once more against him. Will felt the urge to pet the cat, but he felt a stronger urge to push it from his lap. Finding it difficult to do either, he sat there in the Fade, in an awkward squat, while the cat began kneading its claws into the flesh of his leg.
“One of them?” Will asked.
“From the Circle of Magi,” the cat hissed. Its eyes flashed angrily. “This is your Harrowing, isn’t it?”
Will felt his brow furrowing of its own volition, though he agreed entirely. With a frown at the cat, he answered, “Yes.”
The cat jumped from his lap with another hiss and began winding around Will’s feet. Will straightened and looked down at the fretting animal.
“What is it?” he asked impatiently, looking over his shoulder anxiously. He didn’t have all day to make friends with talking cats, after all. He had a test to complete.
“I used to be an apprentice of the tower,” the cat told him. “Just like you.”
“You did?” Will asked, intrigued. “What are you doing here?”
If it was possible for cats to laugh, this one did just that. It was a queer, raking noise that sent a chill down Will’s spine. “I took too long finishing my Harrowing, didn’t I? They decided I’d failed and killed me. I’ve been trapped here in the Fade ever since.”
A cold dread flooded Will’s senses as he peered at the fluffy creature. “Why are you a cat?”
“I’ve been here so long,” the ginger cat lamented, “I learned how to shapeshift. Demons are more likely to leave you alone if you are a cat.”
“And if you’re – uh – human shaped?” Will asked.
“Oh, demons love human shaped things,” the cat answered. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen a human. You’re a nice looking one too. What’s your name, I wonder?”
“I’m Will,” he replied. “What’s your name?”
“My name was…” the cat’s eyes drifted, as though looking back a considerable distance. After a moment, it refocused and answered brightly, “Freddie.”
“Freddie,” Will repeated. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”
The cat butted its head against Will’s shin. Its tail vibrated with delight. “You can help me.”
“Can I?” Will asked. “How?”
“Take me with you. I’ll help you pass your test and you can help bring me back. To the other side,” said Freddie the cat.
Will wasn’t sure that was possible, but then, he knew next to nothing about the Harrowing. What if this was what happened to every apprentice? What if it was a part of the test that he help a fellow mage escape the Fade? For now, he decided, he could use all the help he could get, and so he nodded at the little cat.
“Oh, thank you,” Freddie said. Will shuffled his feet for a second, unsure of what to do next. Freddie meowed plaintively at him and began walking. “This way, I think.”
Will watched the cat saunter a few feet in front of him before following.
They walked together across the floating island, Freddie leading the way and Will keeping close behind her. All the while, his mind felt atomic. The Circle of Magi had abandoned an apprentice to death without proof she’d been made into an abomination? He imagined the First Enchanter motioning to the templar to strike Will’s unmoving, unconscious body. The fact that his corporeal form was vulnerable in the Harrowing Chamber, with a templar’s blade inches from his throat, or so he imagined, was terribly disconcerting to him. Would his fate become tied with Freddie the Cat’s? Would he be killed for taking too long and never able to return to his body or the waking world? Had he already taken too long, talking it up with Freddie as he’d done? Were most apprentices finished by this time? These were the thoughts Will had as he followed Freddie through the Fade. His hands were sweating, and he felt sick. His nerves were so horrifically wrought, he was on the verge of asking Freddie if they could sit down and rest for a moment, but just as he was opening his mouth to pose the question, the cat’s hair stood up on its back and it yowled threateningly.
Will looked ahead on the narrow, dusty path. There, straight ahead, were floating, wispy wraiths, and they were zooming quickly toward them, little zaps of lightning shooting from their shadowy cores. If Will had never been to the Fade, never read so many books about the Fade, he might have been so frightened and uncertain that he’d try to hide himself behind the cat, but Will knew exactly what was zeroing in on them. And it was exactly as it appeared. Wisp Wraiths. Nothing more. Will could handle Wisp Wraiths. They were one of the smallest threats to him there. He stepped in front of Freddie with a smooth confidence that had the cat eyeing him suspiciously, and he lifted his hands in front of him. Admittedly, this would go better with a staff, but not having one, his plain mage’s hands would have to suffice.
When the Wraiths, two of them, were close enough to threaten hitting him with their little lightning bolts, Will sent a blast of flame in their direction. The fire engulfed them; they made a slight screeching sound, and then poof! They vanished.
Will exhaled heavily and lowered his hands before he looked back at Freddie. His first challenge and he had vanquished it with ease. The fact made him smile, and he offered it to the cat, which was hiding behind him with a slinky back. “That wasn’t so bad,” Will said.
“There are far worse villains ahead than wraiths,” was Freddie’s haughty reply.
He was about to ask Freddie what, exactly, she knew to be ahead, but before he could speak, a new voice entered the arena of his consciousness, booming and vigorous.
“YOU!” the voice yelled, and Will spun on his heels. Standing on a hill, off the main path, was a spirit. It was tall, humanoid, and its voice was thick with authority. Will glanced between it and Freddie. The spirit rumbled impatiently atop the hill and crooked its finger at Will, summoning him forward.
“I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL,” it commanded.
Will bit his lip and looked back at Freddie, whose hair was, once again, standing on edge. “What do I do?” he asked the cat.
“It’s a spirit of valor,” answered Freddie. “Look, it has weapons.”
He looked and saw Freddie was correct. Just beyond the spot the spirit stood, a weapons stand was sturdily settled, and on that stand, Will noticed with keen interest, was a magical staff. He stepped toward his challenger, eyes on the slick, ebony weapon, with intricate curves and curls embedded up and down its length, carved deep and lovely. It was a beautiful staff. He wanted it.
“COME HERE AND FIGHT ME, IF YOU HAVE EYES FOR MY PRIZE,” the spirit of valor bellowed.
Will cocked an eyebrow and set his eyes to Freddie. “What are my odds here?”
The cat shrugged its shoulders, as much as cats can, and Will rolled his eyes. Very helpful. He took a steadying inhale and turned his head upon the spirit awaiting him grandly at the top of the hill.
“Hello, spirit,” Will began as he took a few small steps up the hill. “I’m a mage apprentice from the Circle of Magi, and I’d appreciate your help, please.”
“I’M A SPIRIT OF VALOR, NOT OF BLINDNESS, BOY,” boomed the spirit, “AND I CAN SEE PERFECTLY WELL YOU WANT MY STAFF.”
Will continued cautiously up the hill. “You’re very astute,” he said. “And it’s true my task would be easier if I had your staff to help me.” He paused when he was only a few yards away from the spirit, whose misty sword was raised high in challenge. “But I cannot accept your challenge, Valor.”
The spirit scoffed loudly, and Freddie the Cat mewed in frustration, but Will brushed the hair from his eyes and took another step in the direction of the weapons stand.
“You see,” Will continued, “this is my Harrowing, and I have a test to pass.” The spirit’s eyes were watching him closely, very closely. “My test very well might be succumbing to your challenge, only to discover I’ve made a deal with a demon.”
“DEMON?!” the spirit of valor cried. “HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A DEMON. I AM A SPIRIT OF VALOR.”
“With all due respect,” Will said with a sigh, only half-feigned, “that’s exactly what a demon would say, isn’t it? I feel like, if you were really a spirit of valor, you wouldn’t challenge me in a duel, but aid my way in defeating the true demons ahead on my path.”
“I AM NO DEMON,” the spirit yelled, horribly insulted, to Will’s delight. “COME HERE AND I’LL PROVE IT.”
Will suddenly realized the risk of his bargain. That staff would be an immense help to him, but was its attainment worth his life? The cat pawed at his ankles and he reminded himself that he didn’t have much time, didn’t have a choice, and would either die now at the hands of this spirit, or die a few minutes later, by demon or templar hand. So he continued the few yards up the hill until he was standing directly before the spirit of valor. The spirit huffed at him in frustration for a minute, and then extended his hand behind him, his transparent fingers closing over the ebony staff.
“ACCEPT THIS GIFT, APPRENTICE,” it said as it placed the staff in Will’s hands. It felt heavy and surprisingly cool against his skin. “AND KNOW I AM NO DEMON, BUT A SPIRIT OF VALOR. GOOD LUCK TO YOU ON YOUR QUEST.”
Will smiled at the spirit. “Your tale of valor will live on in my memory. Thank you.” He bowed respectfully, and, staff in hand, made his way back down the hill and onto the dusty Fade path, Freddie swishing around his feet.
When the spirit of valor was out of earshot, she applauded him. “Very well done,” she said. “Most everyone else fights him for the weapon.”
He looked down at her, eyebrow arched. “Have you met many apprentices like me here, Freddie?”
Ginger fur ruffled with an invisible breeze that roused goosebumps on Will’s skin. “I have been here for a long time,” was Freddie’s morose reply, but her cat eyes twinkled mischievously in the next heartbeat as she looked up at him. “But I’ve never met an apprentice like you before, Will.”
He smiled at the cat, though the worry continued to bloom deep in his chest. He tightened his fingers around the staff, felt his skin warming the sleek ebony. He had just avoided one fight, but he wasn’t confident he could avoid another, and, this being his Harrowing, he was positive there was more danger on the horizon, or, as it turned out, just around the corner.
This time, Will spotted it before Freddie, which was astonishing, really, since it was so huge. But he was walking ahead of her, and when he stopped abruptly, her little ginger head rammed into the back of his calf, and she hissed in annoyance before looking around his legs and seeing what it was that had stilled his movement so quickly.
“Uh oh,” she meowed softly. “Sloth.”
Will looked between the ginger cat and the giant, bear-like creature curled up in the road ahead. He squinted, frowned, and said, “That doesn’t look like a sloth to me.”
“Sloth demon,” Freddie verified. “Very dangerous. But lazy.”
It’s true that the Sloth was lazing sleepily in the false sunshine of the Fade, but Will did not question its strength for a second. Beneath its mat of thick fur, he could see its muscles rippling, promising brute strength. The tips of his furry paws were clawed with sharp, dagger-like talons. The demon sighed sleepily, and Will couldn’t stop himself from taking a precautionary step back. He gripped his staff exceptionally hard. The demon didn’t move, just burrowed its giant, bear-likened head into the pillow of its crossed paws.
“Can we go around him, do you think?” Will asked Freddie.
“You can try.”
Will jumped, eyes darting frantically to the demon, for it was the demon that had spoken. Its voice was a low, baritone rumble, slow and melodic. But Will noticed as he inspected the monstrous thing in his path that its eyes were still closed. Was it sleeping still?
“I might be sleepy,” grumbled Sloth, “but I am not asleep. My teeth are just as sharp, and my claws,” it paused to let out a great yawn, “are lethally long.” Now it cracked open one of its eyelids and perused Will with a steady, sleepy glare. “You may pass. But I will shred you, make no mistake.”
Will had no doubt that, if provoked, the lazy demon would have no trouble shredding him, killing him, eating him. Was this the test, then? Avoid being eaten by a sloth demon? It seemed a bit crass for the tower, but according to Freddie, the Circle wasn’t exactly rooting for his survival. His staff tingled in his hand. He had to get around this demon, one way or another, and standing in front of it wondering wasn’t going to help him or Freddie. So he tried to feel brave, squared his shoulders in mock confidence, and addressed the demon.
“I’m sorry to disturb you from your rest, Sloth,” Will said in what he hoped was his most polite and respectful tone. “But I need to get by you. I am taking my Harrowing, you see, and I must continue down this path.” He felt Freddie rubbing against his ankles.
At the mention of his Harrowing, the demon opened its second eye. It was becoming more and more awake, and Will didn’t think that was especially good news.
“An apprentice, then?” Sloth grumbled. “Why didn’t you say so? I will, of course, let an apprentice pass by unharmed.”
Will ignored the instant swell of hope in his heart, for he knew there was a catch. In the Fade, wasn’t there always? He waited, holding tight to his staff, and sure enough, the demon spoke again, arching its menacing back in a stretch as its words were expelled on a yawn.
“If you can answer a few questions for me,” it said.
“I answer a few questions for you, and you’ll let me by?” Will asked.
“Riddles, he means,” Freddie meowed.
That widened Will’s eyes a tad. “Riddles?”
It was Sloth who answered him. Sloth, the demon, who was now sitting back on its haunches and staring with eerie golden eyes at Will. “Answer my questions and I will let you by unharmed. Answer incorrectly, and I will enjoy eating you.” It licked its chops and Will gulped. “You look…very tasty.”
“Oh,” said Will helplessly. Riddles sounded like something that might be included in a Harrowing, he supposed. He glanced down at Freddie, who was, not helpfully, hiding beneath the hem of his robes. And again, he wondered, staring at the gleam of sharp fangs in the demon’s mouth, what choice did he actually have? He was clever enough to answer a few riddles, surely. He would have to be clever enough. “I agree,” he said at last.
Sloth rumbled in a pleased sort of way. “I can only live where there is light, but I die if the light shines on me.”
Will knitted his brows together in confusion before realizing the riddles had begun. He almost told the demon that his first question wasn’t even a question, but didn’t think that observation would be appreciated, so he committed himself to thinking carefully of what the answer might be.
First Enchanter Bedelia had told the Grey Warden that Will was ‘extremely bright,’ and he supposed perhaps it was true, because the first riddle of the sloth demon did not seem, to him, especially difficult to solve. After a brief hesitation, in which he checked and double checked his logical conclusion, Will cleared his throat and committed his answer.
“A shadow,” he said.
At his feet, Freddie purred loudly. In front of him, the demon mumbled his approval. Will exhaled in relief and awaited, rather impatiently, his next riddle. It came swiftly. The demon was sitting up now, straight and worrisomely alert. When he spoke, his words were still slurred with sleepiness, but Will had an idea now that the ‘sleepiness’ was nothing more than trickery. He listened carefully as the next riddle was delivered.
“Give me food,” grumbled Sloth, “and I will live. Give me water and I will die.”
Will smiled. Of all the riddles, the demon had chosen one of which he was well acquainted. He was, after all, an elemental mage. And his favored element?
“Fire,” Will answered.
Sloth closed his eyes languidly, opened them; they shimmered dangerously. “Correct,” the demon said. “One final riddle before I eat you.”
Will nodded, for what could he possibly say?
The demon, practically salivating at the idea of munching on Will, breathed out his final question, his words lazily strung together. “What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, and never in a thousand years?”
Will bit at his lower lip. He ran the riddle through his head a few times. The answer did not, like the others, appear immediately within his mind. In fact, in his frenzied fluster, a droplet of perspiration formed at his hairline. The longer he pondered the answer, the hungrier the shine in the demon’s eyes became. Will could hardly think at all now, as his eyes were stricken by the saliva dripping from the demon’s teeth. Oh Maker. He was going to die. Eaten by a demon in the Fade. What was the answer to the riddle? What was it?
“M!” Will yelled suddenly, the sound bursting from his lips before he had time to process its sense.
A heavy silence hanged in the space between himself and the demon. Freddie was still beneath his robes.
When the demon did nothing but stare at him, Will spoke again. “The letter ‘M’,” he said. As he repeated it, he knew he was right. He could see it in the sloth demon’s eyes. The disappointment of a missed meal was nearly tangible.
So much silence, and so many minutes passed between them, that Will began to question his answer. It looked to him as if, perhaps, the demon was questioning the terms of their arrangement. Maybe he was thinking it’d be better just to eat the little apprentice after all. Will clutched his staff, preparing himself for whatever was to happen next.
The demon tilted back its giant head and opened its mouth wide. Its pointed teeth were caked, Will could see now, in blood. Was his own blood about to join the blood of unfortunate apprentices before him? No. It would seem not, for the demon yawned and laid back down and shut its eyes sleepily, and nothing more.
Will watched its steady, rhythmic inhales as it fell into a deep sleep once more. He looked at Freddie, who had finally poked her head from beneath his robes to study the sleeping demon.
“That was it?” Will asked her. “We can pass now?”
The demon gave Will one final fright when, even in its sleep, he mumbled, “You may. I will have to eat the next one.”
“Thanks,” Will said, and he was thankful indeed. But even with the assuredness of his safe passage, Will hurried hastily past the lazy lump of demon, not feeling an iota of safety until he was several minutes’ walking distance from the sleepy beast.
He walked along, Freddie at his side, and with every step he became more and more uneasy. Two creatures he had come across now, wisps not included, and two times he had escaped with his life. But these encounters, intimidating as they had been, neither had been terribly unmanageable. Nor especially difficult. Wasn’t a Harrowing supposed to be harder than a few simple riddles and a plea for aid? Could Will, perhaps, have stumbled down the wrong path? Could his time be about to run short? Did he only think he was doing well, but in reality he was too stupid to realize he was doing poorly?
His nerves were twisted in a grotesque, nauseating bundle, sending sickly sparks shooting through his limbs, making his head dizzy and his eyes dull. Could the pure psychological torture be the true test? Will would almost prefer a more tactile villain to one of invisible cruelty. Let him be beaten and eaten, but do not drive him into madness from the waiting!
When the ginger cat stopped in front of him, Will stumbled and fell to his knees, barely missing a crushing blow to Freddie’s back. “Ugh!” he yelled, bemoaning the plume of Fade dust that billowed around him in a cloud that obfuscated the brand new presence approaching him. Will coughed and waved his hands at the dust. When it cleared, he felt his heart drop to his stomach, and he nearly dropped his staff along with it, because there, leaning over him, was the most curious, terrifying thing Will had ever laid eyes on.
It was lethally thin, skeletal, a night-black leathery skin stretched tight over its angular bones. From its head, great antlers grew, curving high and sharp and casting nightmarish shadows over Will’s face. Long, clawed fingers stretched from its bony hands. Will shuddered and shuffled back on his knees, trying to escape its touch. He was vaguely aware of Freddie hissing manically behind him, but he could not look away from the thing coming closer. And then, horribly, terribly, it touched its claw-like fingers to Will’s cheek in a caress.
The motion made Will stir with curiosity and fear. Definitely fear. But as the thing made to gently rub along Will’s jaw, and did not look in the least as though it wished to devour him, body, soul, or otherwise, he relaxed marginally beneath the thing’s careful gaze. Its claws clicked as it moved its touch into Will’s hair, twisting around the spirals at his nape. Its head leaned down and in, until its eyes were level with Will’s eyes, and so close Will could not even look straight into them without his vision fuzzing.
“Dear Will,” it whispered softly, and Will gasped.
“How do you know my name?”
“My passion is to know you, sweet boy,” it answered, ducking its head even closer, rubbing its cheek against Will’s cheek. It smelled smoky, and its skin felt rough and smooth all at once.
“Will!” Freddie called to him. He could determine from her voice that she was far away from him. So she didn’t like this thing apparently, Will thought.
“Freddie?” Will asked. With the thing’s cheek against his, his eyes were free to look around, and he spotted Freddie lurking behind a jagged rock, off the side of the path.
“It’s a demon, Will!” Freddie warned, her words followed by a loud, obnoxious hiss. “Don’t trust it!”
The word ‘demon’ made Will’s insides coil, and he pulled back from the thing’s face. Its fingers were still twined snugly in his hair, and it held him fast as Will tried to squirm away.
“Listen to me, Will,” the thing breathed at his ear, after it successfully pulled Will flush against its prominently ribbed chest. “I would never hurt you. Do you believe me?” It pulled Will back to look into its eyes, which were black, but bright with intelligence and…something else. Something deep and dark and dangerous.
“It’s a demon, Will!” Freddie screamed. “Kill it! KILL IT!”
Will could hear the cat’s warning cries, but he could not muster within himself the desire to follow her advice. He still held the staff in his hand, and the thing had made no move to take it away. It cradled him gently in its long arms. Its claws were twined within his curls, but they were not pulling painfully at his scalp, just softly petting his head. And the thing did not even steal the smallest of looks at Freddie; it only looked at Will, with those strange, black eyes. Will could see himself in their reflection, and he did not look scared. Not at all. And he did not feel scared. When Freddie screamed once more that it was a demon, the thing smiled at him and whispered, low enough so only Will could hear.
“Freddie the Cat has been naughty."
“She’s been helping me,” Will whispered in return. He found his voice was faint and his breath was fluttering. He leaned into the fingers smoothing over his scalp.
“Has she?” asked the thing that held him so tenderly.
“Will! You have to kill that demon!” Freddie screamed from behind her rock. “You have to pass your Harrowing and take me with you!! WILL!”
“Tsk, tsk,” the thing said, with a slight and eerie twist of its elegantly horrible head. “She seems so desperate to hitch a ride home with you, doesn’t she?”
Will’s eyes were watering. His brain was a maze of contradicting thoughts. Through his confusion, he heard himself saying, “Freddie is the demon.” It was suddenly true to him, as true as the steadfast, otherworldly arms encasing him safely, and as true as the black eyes narrowing over his face. The thing smiled at him and nodded. Will thought he detected pride shimmering in those dark pools.
“You must kill her, Will,” it said. “And I will help you.”
Will was not surprised to feel his head nodding acquiescence, nor was he jarred when the thing helped him to his feet. Freddie the Cat and/or Demon, leapt in front of him, yowling desperately.
“You’re going to leave me here?! You’re no better than all those other mages! Will!” Freddie accused, her claws extending violently. She jumped at him, her claws still growing, longer and sharper, but before she could reach him in her pounce, Will was thrown out of the way as the thing stepped between them.
Will leaned around him in time to see Freddie transform. Her cat claws, huge and shining now, were joined by scaly skin as her height shot upwards, far above Will’s head, far above the thing’s head, until she was, finally, revealed fully in her natural form. She was a cat no longer, but a demon, gigantic and raging. Will recognized the form from one of his books. A Pride Demon. Very dangerous. Very aggressive. Very much coming straight for Will with hatred beaming in its monstrous eyes.
“Run, Will!” the thing between them ordered. “I will kill it, but you must run!”
Oh, how he wanted to run, but how could he? It was his Harrowing, wasn’t it? He had to be the one to kill the demon, didn’t he? Wasn’t Freddie’s treachery the final test? But the thing was shoving him away.
“There is no way a mage of your caliber can take down a demon of this devastation, Will. You’ve been set up to fail. You must run. There is no other way,” the thing said. As the demon swiped a giant, taloned arm in its direction, it lifted its own and blocked the blow with ease. It looked back at Will with its single second of time earned. Its eyes flashed. “Do you trust me?”
He did. Maker help him, but he did. So after a final look at the thing saving his life, and the demon threatening it, Will turned away from the scene and ran.
Will did not make it far before he heard a terrible scream and thump, and then he was falling, falling, the world around him spinning, the Fade fading fast.