Chapter Text
“I still don’t understand why you get to go first,” Amell said, placing a book from his arms into an empty slot on the shelves.
Surana did the same. “I guess I am Irving’s favorite after all,” she said through a grin.
Jowan sighed as he flipped through a book instead of shelving it. “At least Irving acknowledges your existence. I swear he goes out of his way to avoid me sometimes.”
Amell took the book from Jowan’s hands, “You’re over thinking things again.”
He shut the book and placed it on a shelf. Surana grabbed it and returned it to the correct spot, throwing Amell a smug look, which he mockingly threw back.
Jowan picked up another book, “Both of you have your Harrowings tomorrow, when there’s no word on mine.”
Amell exhaled a slight laugh, “It’s not as though we got much of a warning. I’m sure yours will be soon enough.”
Jowan searched the shelves for where the book in his hands belonged. Before he could find it, the book was gone, and in Surana’s hands instead.
“Oh! I know where that one goes,” she said as she sharply turned toward a shelf across the room.
Jowan sighed, again. He felt as though he’d been doing a lot of that lately. Amell gave him a friendly pat on the back, causing him to jump slightly. “You alright?”
He wasn’t, but he also wasn’t ready to explain to Amell why, especially not in the library where anyone could overhear. “Just fine.”
When they finished their shelving, Jowan elected to stay behind to catch up on his studies. He waved both his friends away, urging they get rest for their big day. Something was clearly on his mind, the way he fumbled with the books as he picked them off the shelves, how none of them were relevant to any of his classes. That, paired with his eagerness to study alone, raised Surana’s suspicions, but didn’t seem to phase Amell.
Amell’s calmness was nearly the only thing keeping Surana from a full meltdown. Unlike Jowan, who wore his emotions on his sleeve, Surana wasn’t as easy to read. She could make a fortune playing Wicked Grace, if the Circle had any sort of gambling. But under her warm, bubbly exterior, she was a mess. A wreck of nerves and fear. Amell seemed the opposite.
He wasn’t quite like Jowan with his emotions, but he wasn’t as good as Surana at hiding them. If he was nervous, he had a strange way of showing it. They took their time walking back to the apprentice quarters. Surana, nearly a foot shorter than Amell, usually led the pace. But, Amell’s slow strides kept causing Surana to shorten her own. Surana absently stared at him, trying to decipher any meaning from his placid expression.
“Do I have something on my face?” Amell said, jokingly dragging his fingers across his cheek. A smug smile cracked his neutral expression.
Surana shook her head, mouthing words but not finding her voice quite at first. “No… I’m just…”
Amell’s smile faded, “Nervous?”
Surana didn’t nod, but she didn’t have to. Amell ran his hand over the stubble on his chin, “I know we’re not supposed to talk about it, but—”
“So we won’t,” Surana said, sharply as she turned and continued down the hall.
They reached the apprentice quarters and didn’t share a word as they separated to their bunks.
Amell fell asleep faster than he expected, and found himself in the Fade. He was met by a woman with dark hair and eyes that were more gray than blue; one of his recurring dreams. Amell had a few that his mind would cycle through in the night. A memory of Jowan, Surana, and himself as children, another of a time when mages were still allowed outside, one of an attempted escape where all the exits only pull him back higher in the tower.
This one was another, though different from the rest in some indescribable way. The woman with coal black hair, and eyes the color of storm clouds. Based on the shared features, his mother, Amell would assume, but the only memory he had of her wasn’t a pleasant one. This dream didn’t feel like those he imagined himself, either. In the dreams of his escape, the world around him feels malleable, ever changing.
Anytime the woman appeared, the illusion of the Fade dropped with it. Amell was no longer in the realm of dreams, but rather in a perfect replica of the circle tower, with the addition of floating furniture and lyrium veins. It wasn’t as comforting as he normally found it, wanting to think about anything other than being stuck in the circle at this moment.
He had been waiting for his Harrowing his whole life, for the opportunities being a full mage could bring. Opportunities to advance his magic, to leave the circle. He wanted nothing more than to escape, but was trapped even in his dreams.
The woman was a comforting sight, however. She never spoke, but was always there to listen, radiating an aura that put Amell’s mind immediately at peace.
Surana tossed and turned, unable to slip into sleep as easily as Amell. After what felt like hours, Surana sat up and looked around the room. The bunk above Amell’s was still empty, Jowan hadn’t yet returned from the library.
This wasn’t unusual behavior from Jowan, though when was his behavior ever “usual”. He’d spent most his nights over the past few weeks in the library to all hours. Though, Surana was rarely still awake to notice he was missing. But, tonight she couldn’t sleep, and so headed back to the library.
She found it vacant, except for the books and the shelves that held them. Where could Jowan be? Surana spun on her heel and walked back the way she came. From down the hall, she could hear distant voices which she followed to the chapel.
Surana hovered at the doorway a moment, listening for a hint to who was inside.
“Why not tonight? Why wait?” a woman’s soft voice begged.
“Tomorrow, I promise.”
Surana didn’t recognize the first voice, but the second she knew immediately. She took a silent step into the room. “Jowan,” she said plainly, not a command or a question.
Jowan froze. The woman he was with turned to Surana first, a slight fear in her eyes. Her chantry robes confused Surana further, not fathoming why Jowan would associate himself with someone so involved in the organization that held them prisoner.
Jowan cleared his throat, “Uh… Lily this is Surana. Surana… Lily.”
The fear in Lily’s eyes faded, “So, you’re the famous Surana. Jowan speaks a lot of you.”
Surana folded her arms, “And what interest would a chantry sister have with me?”
Lily’s brow furrowed, “That’s not—”
“Lily and I… I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
Surana slightly shook her head, “Find out about what?”
“About Lily and me,” Jowan grabbed Lily’s hand, “You can’t tell anyone, even Amell.”
Surana looked at Jowan’s hand grasping Lily’s. The grip was firm, more out of protection than intimacy, except for Jowan’s thumb that gently traced the back of Lily’s fingers. In all the years Surana had known him, Jowan never expressed interest in anyone, but he was certainly in deep now.
“Why can’t Shannen know?”
“I want to tell him myself.”
Before Surana could question him further, she heard footsteps coming from the hall. There wasn’t time to do much about it as all three turned their heads to face whoever was about to catch them.
Luckily, it wasn’t Irving or Greagoir, or any templar for that matter. It was Karl, clearly not amused that he was again catching Surana and Jowan out of their bunks. The greys in his hair seemed to grow more prominent in the torches, the flickering flames highlighting the lines in his face and the bags under his eyes. He wasn’t that much older than the rest of them, but he carried worry in his chest like a caged bird, and sleep hadn’t come easy to him since Anders escaped.
Stepping closer, Karl’s exasperated expression turned to anger as he addressed Surana, “Jowan I’d expect, but you Surana? Your Harrowing’s tomorrow.”
Surana couldn’t look in his eyes, instead they wandered around the room.
“Don’t tell me you’ve gone through a sudden conversion, or any other lie.” Karl said, hushed, through gritted teeth.
Surana laughed dryly, “No—”
“It’s my fault,” Jowan stepped forward, “I—couldn’t sleep. Surana was just checking on me.”
Karl raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing the story. Surana wasn’t surprised, Jowan was a terrible liar. But Karl didn’t seem to care, instead turning next to Lily. “And you?”
“Does a sister need a reason to be in a chapel?” Any concern Lily held in her face before was gone, instead she just exuded a righteous calmness. “Jowan’s soul was troubled, he asked for a blessing, was I to refuse a child of the Maker?”
Karl sputtered for a moment. Oh, she was good, Surana thought. Perhaps Jowan had taste after all.
Karl rubbed his eyes, not wanting to deal with any of it at this hour. “Just—go back to your quarters. I’m not about to wake the First Enchanter over a chantry blessing.”
Jowan and Lily left first, joining hands briefly again before parting in the hallway. Surana went to follow, but Karl lingered behind her. Just because he was done lecturing Jowan, didn’t mean he was done lecturing her.
“You’re supposed to be the responsible one, Surana,” Karl said, not angry, just disappointed.
Surana threw her arms in the air, a near manic smile on her face, “And let Amell and Jowan have all the fun?”
“It’s hard enough shilling excuses to Irving for them, I shouldn’t have to worry about you, too.”
Surana sighed, “You’re right.”
She lowered herself onto a pew and put her chin in her hands. “My Harrowing’s tomorrow. I can’t afford to make mistakes. Not when I’m so close.”
Karl sat down next to her. “Amell and Jowan are talented apprentices, but their dreams of freedom blind them to the dangers of their actions.”
Surana knew he was talking about Amell and Jowan, but by the tone of Karl’s voice, he was talking about Anders too. So many friends had gone missing, escaped, or died under mysterious circumstances, they desperately clung to those that were left. “The circle needs to change. I want to help bring it about.”
Karl nodded, “I know. Just… be wary of how close you associate with Amell and Jowan. I often think Irving would listen to me more if I didn’t have questionable associations myself.”
“Do you regret them? Your ‘questionable associations’,” Surana said as though it was a euphemism.
Karl tossed the idea around his mind, tilting is head back in forth in thought. Wanting to be honest, but wanting more to steer Surana in the right direction. “Yes,” he lied.
Surana was surprised by his answer and did nothing to stop the expression from covering her face. Karl reeled, not expecting to feel such judgement from a single look. “Sometimes,” he offered. Which was closer to the truth, but still a lie.
Surana seemed to except this answer more, but didn’t fully buy it. Karl regretted a lot of things in his life, but Anders wasn’t one of them.
“My point is…,” Karl began, shifting it his seat, “Those who actually have influence in the tower, Wynne, Uldred, Leorah, they’ve had spotless records. How Amell and Jowan have gotten away with the things they’ve pulled is beyond me.”
Karl led a hand through his greying hair, stressed just thinking about the times he’s had to spin excuses for them. “I won’t always be here to save your asses. I’d pick my shenanigans wisely.”
With that, Karl stood and side stepped out of the pew. Surana still sat, face in her hands, staring blankly at the statue of Andraste.
“You should get back to the apprentice quarters before someone with a care for the rules finds you.”
Surana sat only a moment longer after Karl left, for some reason taken by the statue of Andraste. Perhaps the fear for what her Harrowing would bring caused her to search for comfort in unusual places. Despite the chantry’s many failings, Surana borrowed the strength Andraste was idealized to possess, and used it to carry her from the chapel back to her bunk. She still couldn’t sleep a wink.
Surana heard the door open and footsteps growing closer until she felt someone standing behind her. “Surana,” the voice was familiar, “Wake up. It’s time.”
Surana turned over to see Senior Enchanter Leorah and a templar, Cullen. Not like she wasn’t worried enough before, the thought of why she’d need a templar escort began to burn in the pit of her stomach. All she could do was nod, and wordlessly follow.
Surana had heard the rumors, everyone at this point had heard the rumors. The templar, Cullen, had an interest in her. Even if she hadn’t heard the rumors, she could tell by the way he’d steal a glance, how he was more polite to her than the other mages. Cullen seemed nice enough, for a templar anyway, but anyone so wrapped up in the chantry’s beliefs wouldn’t last long with Surana given how open she was with her conflicting opinions.
Still, she found comfort in the look Cullen gave her as they stepped into the Harrowing chamber. Leorah had been colder than usual on the walk up, her steely expression not betraying any details of what Surana might face. Even though she had only recently been made a senior enchanter, this was far from the first Harrowing she had attended. Cullen, on the other hand, didn’t have the practice. He’d only been to a handful of Harrowings, clearly not all of them ended well.
In the chamber, Surana was greeted by Irving, Greagoir, and a half dozen templars. Surana found one unnerving, but a room of them… no wonder so many apprentices didn’t leave alive. The sound of her beating heart filled her ears. Irving approached her, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She could tell he was saying something supportive and most likely important, but the blood rushing at her ears was louder.
Irving gripped her shoulder tighter, “Surana.”
Her heart beats muted slightly, and she remembered where she was. She didn’t want to look Irving in the eyes, not wanting to reveal how scared she really was.
“You know that the Fade has an effect on the real world. Move fast, but smart. Don’t give the templars reason to strike you down.”