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Dragon Age : Circle of Primordial Divinity	By : Venithil Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 6896 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any games nor books set in the Dragon Age universe. This is a work of fiction and I do not make any money from it.

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dashing rogue - no worries, since I had no idea whether I put it only in my profile or both in my profile and at the beggining of the story. About the mistakes, I guess I'll either have to re-read my own writing once I have the time or get a beta - because I write this in Microsoft Word and I'm not from an english-speaking country my writing sometimes gets "corrected" into words that I had no idea ever existed. Other mistakes are obviously caused by me writing too fast or too carelessly. Anyway, I try to make Nemain, Nimrail and Marathia seem as childlike as possible, with rushed thought patterns, hiperactive at times, and making mistakes while speaking, but soon, they'll be all grown up after one or two more timeskips ;). Thank you for the review. Enjoy. -----------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter III Bad Kind of Attention

The raven haired witch was lying on her bad, panting and breathing heavily, eyeing the ceiling of her hut as she slowly moved her hand across her abdomen to her own, hardened nipple, giving it one last pinch as her passion slowly fell from its heights. Doing all the work alone was always so unsatisfying, and even that, she could only do very, very rarely and only since her daughter was taking lessons from the elves’ themselves. Of course, there was no way she would just pick a man from the village and get down and dirty with him. Even Cammen, the most powerful in the village since her little takeover, was far below what she started to consider a minimum for a man to touch her. She had a terrible feeling that her time with *that* man made her too demanding, and that actually, through some stupid trick her weaker side was playing on her, she did not want to… how did they call it? “Cheat” on him. Yet, she had those needs… Those *urges*. She wondered whether the red-haired warrior was thinking of her as well. It appeared he abandoned any hopes of tracking her down quite some time ago, and she no longer had any idea what he was doing, which when put together may have meant he could be trying to break any connection they had. Or perhaps she was wrong about him. Perhaps he hurt and he couldn’t handle the pain as well as she thought he could. All she knew that she missed it all. She missed the touches, their bodies pressed against each other, the way he eventually learned *perfectly* when to treat her roughly and when a bit more delicacy was welcome. Hell, she even missed all the kinds of looks he sometimes gave her and she gave back. Disgusting weaknesses. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling that way. Perhaps she did not even *want* to stop. It’s been *years* and she still couldn’t forget his eyes. This incredible gaze that held no pity nor mercy when looking at anybody who opposed him… yet one that could hold so much warmth, as only she and a few others probably learned. He was so young, even younger than she was back then. She remembered he even grew a bit during their journey together, and his looks were probably starting to change into those of a fully mature man by now. It was sick. She has exchanged so much with that man, and still, she wanted *more* from him. More of him. - ‘Tis irritating, indeed. ‘Tis so irritating. I… miss you, Ri… The doors of the hut were opened. The woman immediately tried to bring herself back together, covering her breasts back with her top and throwing the sheets of her bed on her lower side as she slowly tried to pull up her undergarments where they belonged. Just as she was finished, her daughter rushed into the room, Nemain eyed her mother curiously, with her lying on a bed that was all messed up, her face red, her breathing somewhat out of norm… But, being a little girl, she could not connect the dots in *that* department no matter how smart she was. - Mother, is something wrong? Are you feeling sick? - No, no, Nemain, I just… did something very tiring and decided to lie down for a while. So, how did today go? - We kept practicing with the swords and stuff, and Mom, I just wanted to ask you whether I was the first to think of a certain idea. You see, Mom, are there many people who fight with two swords? One in each hand, I mean. - Oh, unfortunately, Nemain, yes, there are some. I’ve even knew at least two of those myself. - Oh… That’s bad. I thought it up when we were training today and liked the idea. - I thought you might, Nemain. Yes… I thought you might. The woman could not hold back a smile when she looked at her daughter. Her hair red, like her father’s. A pretty face, one that probably combined traits of both her mother and her father, though it would be foolish to judge it at such age. Below her hairline, those curious and smart eyes, not like her father’s – similar to her own, a bit lighter shade of yellow-ish color than those of her mother. No matter how one looked at it, and regardless of what made her unique, Nemain was more or less a mix of her mother and her father. And yet, she was so much more to her than just that. In another irrational flood of feelings, the witch motioned for her daughter to come closer to her. Then, she swept her off the ground and took the little girl into her arms, hugging her close. - Mom? - … - Mom? Mom, you… - What is it, little Nemain? - Mom, you’re hot. - So I’ve been told – said “Raven”, before realizing the full implications of both the words of her daughter and her own answer. She pulled the child away from herself for a moment and looked at her skeptically, slightly blushing. Then, it struck her. – Ohhh, you mean my body temperature? - Yes, Mom. What did you think I’ve meant? - Never mind, it’s… not important right now. - Mom, are you ill? This seems like a fever. - It might be, Nemain, but if so, ‘tis a very rare and specific kind of illness. And I’m afraid I’ve dropped the medicine. - Maybe you should try to remember where you’ve dropped it? - Oh, ‘tis no longer of use. It was so long ago, so far away… - So, where it was? - Somewhere in Ferelden, little girl. Somewhere in Ferelden. After a moment of sudden silence, Nemain asked the question that her mother did not think would be asked. - Mother… Just where is Ferelden? The woman pulled the child away from herself once more and raised an eyebrow. - You mean they don’t even teach you *this*? On all the sermons of the Chantry, why do I have to take care of everything myself? Nimrail was spending his own time practicing his shooting skills. It did not take the boy long to realize that this was what he really was talented in – while he did not make it into the top three of the archery competition, this was only the second one he ever participated in, though he probably could’ve made it in a one or two previous competitions too. In short, before the young boy, a bit over ten years old in human years, grew out of the adolescent range for those contests, he’d definitely win one. On the other hand, Nimrail now also started to practice sword fighting, along with other elves his age – and something was amiss with the art, at least to him. Perhaps he simply disliked the way arms coordination and general movement worked differently than when he used a bow. One hand was either free, occupied by a heavy shield or used to help carrying and swinging with a heavy, two handed blade – the last method rather rare amongst his brethren. Perhaps once he could start using two swords at once, like he saw some warriors of the tribe do, it would change his opinion about swordfighting, but he was already hooked on something else – and those things were bow and arrows. So, he decided to keep improving with his bow first and foremost, and only then consider which sort of swordfighting would benefit him the most. As he sent yet another arrow, he could no longer ignore the presence of another that was watching him from the cover of the bushes. - Marathia, you may as well stop. Watching me while hiding? That’s a bit creepy, you have to admit. - I like watching you use your bow. It’s one of the times when you seem really content. - You don’t have to do it while hiding, you know. - I’m sorry, I got lost in my own thoughts. Anyway, you’ve been fourth last time and it’s only your second competition. Congratulations. I wish I could be as good with a bow as you are. - I’m sure you have other talents, Marathia. You just need to find them. - Perhaps. Nemain seemed to do quite well for a child, though. Do you think she’ll be upset she ended up behind you? You two seemed to get along better recently. - I hope not. It would be irritating if she again started being angry at me simply because she could not beat me at something. - I think her mother made her like this. With all these talks about how special she is and such. She must think she’s the most talented at everything. - But, Marathia, she DOES seem to be talented at everything! She’s even good with a sword, and I’m not just talking about someone at her age – after the initial lessons, she could spar with guys three years older than she is! And given that Raven is a mage, I think… - Your opinion of her has really changed ever since the two of you were small kids fighting over stupid things. I’m more afraid her opinion of you remains relatively the same. I don’t think Hoarfrost Raven is a good parent. I think she changes Nemain for worse. Not to mention Hoarfrost Raven is a really stupid name. - That’s for sure – Nimrail chuckled. – But we cannot change who her mother is. If Nemain gets more friends amongst our clan, then I think her mother’s influence will be somewhat negated. Not to mention she cannot be such a bad person since our Keeper seems to trust her. - If you say so… - Hey, since we’re already talking about this, maybe we should pay her a visit? Make sure she’s all right? It’s late already, so I would have to end my training anyway. - Well, if you *really* want to… - Yes. Let’s go. Marathia followed her friend, though she did so without much enthusiasm. He thought it’s hard to blame her, since actually *visiting* Nemain would probably mean meeting her mother as well, and not many elves in the village liked her. Nimrail himself was so far generally avoiding her because of his parents’ advice, but from what he knew himself she was indeed a bad influence on her daughter. Maybe talking to her again would confirm if she was. Once the tender moment was over, Raven gave her daughter a warm supper as she herself went back to reading her own special magic book. The amount of knowledge contained in the tome always reminded her that she herself still had much to learn – both in terms of usual spells as well as the skills she learned from her old mentor. Even so, she caught up more than she ever thought she would be able to during the time she spent travelling – in less than a year she went from a relatively skilled mage to an incredibly powerful witch, and then, adding what she has learned during these last few years, she was even more than that. If she kept going that way, perhaps she ought to form her own religion soon. Somebody knocking on the door pulled Raven out of her deep thought, and reasoning her daughter might’ve not finished eating yet, she went to open it. [“Visitors? ‘Tis rare. Who could it be?”] Opening the door, Raven immediately had to look down on the two short visitors. An elven boy and a girl, the first one seemingly older than her daughter – with the elven girl, it was harder to say, since they always seemed so undergrown and youthful, but Raven estimated she might’ve been the same age. Or perhaps the pair was older than they seemed, since they were elves, and were both a bit older than Nemain. Nevertheless… [“What are they doing here? Beggars? Here, at MY home? ‘Tis astounding! Say a word, stupid children, and I’ll show you just how frozen the bottoms of you two can get!”] The boy, black-haired and hazel-eyed was the only of the two who mustered the courage to speak. - Ex…excuse us, but is Nemain home? [“Is… Nemain home??”] The woman apparently could not hold back surprise at the question, and was speechless for a moment. Nimrail kept looking at her intently, waiting for an answer. He was surprised he never noticed, but if her mother was any indication, Nemain may turn out to be a beauty indeed - a strange vision since he always teased her about not being pretty when they were kids… Well, they still were, but *before* now. Of course, his human… rival? Was vastly different from her mother, probably taking quite some after her father. Still, the woman was quite a sight to see – taller than elven women and even quite some men, but not by too much, Nimrail could have imagined how she might’ve been just the right “size” for human men, even though for an elf like him, she seemed just a bit too tall. Well, Nimrail came to the conclusion that he never noticed how beautiful the Hoarfrost Raven was because up until now he had little interest in women – it was now slowly starting to develop. Lips fuller than on most elves, pretty black hair that she, however, put up, apparently only to show off an even more lovely neck. The neck itself continued to go down into her torso, the connection often but not always adorned by some sort of a necklace. The woman somewhat proudly displayed her chest, the breasts mostly but not fully covered by straps of violet clothing and a sometimes showing bra underneath. Nimrail, however, had not yet developed an interest in those parts, only noticing that the woman was *definitely* wider in the chest area than her mother, but still very slim and shapely. What the elven boy found captivating were her eyes once they showed surprise and shock instead of contempt – he knew eyes could be a somewhat light brown, his own were a shade, but he never saw a pair that appeared almost golden in certain light. When Marathia finally managed to speak, she brought the woman back into the land of the living. - Miss? - Oh, um… not exactly. I mean… ‘Tis unusual. Well, Nemain was eating supper, but… Ah, damn this. Nemain, you… have guests! Raven quickly brought herself back to the usual self, looking down at the pair of elves. - What exactly do you want from my daughter? - Nimrail said he wanted to check up on her, but… The woman’s glance immediately silenced both Marathia and Nimrail, but then, it softened somewhat. [“Don’t be paranoid, woman. They don’t do such things at this age. They just don’t.”] Finally, she saw the red head of her daughter as she ran to the door. The girl surely spent a lot of time and energy running around. Two little girl feet stopped next to the woman in the door, and indeed, Nemain quickly glanced over the pair of elves before pouting her lips in an attempt to make an appropriate face. - Do you know these two, girl? - Yes, Mother. What are you doing here? Came over to brag about your better result did you Nimrail? ‘Tis scandalous! Raven raised an eyebrow observing the situation. The boy must really have done something to cause her daughter enough irritation that she would start mimicking her right from the beginning. However, the two kids seemed not any less surprised by Nemain’s snap at them. - No, we merely came to… - Well, be happy with your useless fourth place as much as you want, because next time I’ll be better than you! I plan on winning this competition and then you’ll see who is better! - Nemain, I did not come here to argue with you! - Sure you didn’t, you’re too high and mighty to do it. Great Nimrail the Archer. ‘Tis always like this, you’re always so stuck up in the head, never saying good things about me! Well, I tell you, ‘twas the last time you’ll ever be able to brag about being better than me at anything, and I do not intend to listen to this any longer! - Will you let me say something?! - I do not intend to listen to your stupid excuses nor stand your arrogance anymore! ‘Tis over, you hear? Go home, I don’t want to see you here again! Mother, tell them to go away! Freeze them or scare them or something, I don’t want to see their faces! Nemain ran back inside the hut and left Raven to cope with the pair of kids outside. Typical. She turned to the two elves, but they spoke first. - I don’t get it. Regardless of what we do, she always gets so angry. - Miss Raven, I think your daughter is rather hard to deal with. Nimrail really didn’t mean anything wrong, but she seems very arrogant and doesn’t take well to being beaten at anything… - And you probably think ‘tis my fault, girl? Nemain still learns about whom she is and how to treat others, and certainly she has not yet come to conclusion that skilled people can be useful. The way you two handle your relation with her is entirely up to you, but if you keep angering her, ‘tis will really become a problem for you two. Now, unless there is something else, please leave. I’m trying to read. After that, Raven closed the door. - But… It is her fault! - Maybe… I don’t really care anymore. Nemain is too infuriating. I don’t know how to deal with her. Let’s go home, Marathia. [“Sure thing. You bring me all the way here and then tell me to go home. Acting all tough, damn you.”] Still, the elven girl turned and followed her friend. [“You like her too much, but you’re both too proud to make up. As annoying, troublesome and unpro…unpra…unprafit… Well, I won’t get anything for myself from doing this, but I just can’t leave it the way it is, right? Older than me, and still… so childish.”] Marathia was already thinking about what to say and how to meet up with Nemain later… More like, the next day. Except tomorrow would be a rather hard day on all of them. Darrian thought he must be dreaming. After all, the entire scenario seemed improbable. He was just a middle-aged average-looking elf that failed to become the First of his village when younger, and the woman that has been talking with him was the most gorgeous he’d ever seen. Just the perfect height, and a large amount of this came from her long, shapely legs. Rosy cheeks, eyes a beautiful mix of black and dark lavender, long red hair, and a body to die for… Moreover, she was interested in him. In HIM! This was almost impossible. They’ve been flirting in that tavern all night, and now, she was leading him upstairs, to her room! [“Wait, tavern? What the hell I’m doing in a…”] She literally pushed him onto the bed, locking his lips in a deep kind of kiss. Her tongue moved in incredible patterns, providing sensations that he never though could come from kissing. Her hands were tearing off his clothes with expert ease as she lifted herself up from him, Darrian immediately missing the heat of her body and the feeling of her breasts pressed against him. Something was wrong in this scene. Their clothes were disappearing way to quickly, the fact that they landed in bed so early was weird. But Darrian could barely bring himself to think about this, in fact, about anything. He did not notice that the woman seemed slightly *too perfect* nor the fact that he couldn’t discern for a moment whether she was human, elven, or something in-between. When her mouth wrapped around his hardness, all of this completely disappeared from his mind. The inside of her mouth was unnaturally warm and she was almost as unnaturally skilled, with Darrian feeling drawn inside, his excitement rapidly increasing. Of course something was wrong, but could he really complain that she was just *too* good? Well, he could complain that this might be over too quick if she kept going that way. The woman, already naked (how could he complain it was too fast?), crawling onto him, placing her womanhood over his hard member. Something was of course wrong, but who would bother in such a situation. Slowly, he was starting to slide in, but then, as well, he realized what exactly was wrong. Sliding in was not the proper way to describe the situation. He was more like being sucked in. A shiver run up and down his spine as his hips bucked, being drawn deeper and deeper into the woman’s entrance. To call the intrusion welcomed would be a gross understatement, it appeared as though the woman’s orifice was starved and this was but a way to feed it, rather than the two making a conscious decision to copulate. Moreover, her insides was were incredible, heavenly, divine. As he got his full shaft inside, he could even feel a faint pulsing, almost as if her heart was just above, which was, of course, impossible, but it created an exquisite feeling. Darrian erupted inside of her prematurely like some kind of teenager. He felt weirdly, almost as if her womanhood was sucking out his semen the first moment and then almost blocking it inside of him the next. When Darrian looked up at the woman’s slit to see what the hell was going on, he shivered, in fear this time. Her skin started to turn purple, beginning with her nether regions and going all the way up to her breasts, and further. Her perfect red hair stood on their ends, forming a wild mane before they suddenly seemingly caught on fire, before completely turning into red flames. The flames then shifted to a deep violet just as the rest of his “lover’s” body became… not human. She leaned over above him, almost as if she was to kiss him again. - Good boy… You’re mine. You’ll do for the moment. He felt a sharp pain as his body suddenly seemed to burn and stretch, starting from his groin where he was connected to this…demon. The woman, on the other hand, started to become less substantial… Her body also shifted, weirdly, becoming somewhat more flexible, and then, slowly, started to take a jelly-like consistence, oozing down onto him. He felt it dripping down on his abdomen and even moving down his shaft, before the whole woman started to melt into him, his body apparently absorbing her almost eagerly. Last thing Darrian consciously noticed was that he was waking up, from something that was both a wet dream and a nightmare. Then, his consciousness was no longer his own. Raven was lying in her bed, thinking about the events of the day that just passed. It appeared Nemain almost started to form some relationships inside the village, but at the same time, was ruining those potential friendships pretty quickly and easily. A talent she no doubt inherited from her. Yes, she had very, very little ability to form friendships. Or any relations humans would consider friendly, in fact… She wouldn’t be staying in this village forever. In fact, she planned leaving as soon as she decided Nemain got all the education that was necessary and realizing where her true potential lay. Doing it all as quickly as possible was important – after all, even though she was just a child, there were things to do equally important as raising her. Furthermore, those things might directly collide with her childhood if they were detected here prematurely. She was at a loss, because she both wanted to move quicker than her enemy and she did not want to rush things when it came to Nemain. And that same Nemain… It would be lonely for her if she just told her to stay away from everyone, and yet it would just be harder for both her and her daughter if she made too many friends while being here. Apparently, they were not in danger of the latter situation happening, but the former… She knew from experience she shouldn’t stop Nemain from having friends. So she decided she wouldn’t try to step in if the pair of elves tried to make up with her. She needed to simply raise her daughter a bit more, than take her away from the elves and start realizing her real purpose. It seemed amazing, the fact they haven’t detected her so far. Well, there was a lot of amazing things that happened since she left Ferelden, but this was the most. Probably, they simply did not know about her success. She, on the other hand, knew more and more. She started drifting off to sleep, unaware what awaited her the following day. Aseneh sit in the window of the man’s hut, looking through them at the witch’s hut. It seemed so odd, to be inside a body of flesh, her mobility limited by her surroundings as well as all the fluids and muscle that made up her current form. It was weird to be back in the mortal realm, especially in a male body. Though, the experience was interesting and stimulating. Apparently, she overloaded the elf with desire in his dream since his body produced this weird but strangely tasty white substance as they woke up – of course, she pushed back the man’s consciousness as quick as possible, only allowing him moments of control as she slowly tried to leech the knowledge of the village as well as her two targets from him. It was apparent now… Her targets were a woman and her “daughter”, meaning progeny. Yes, they reproduced, Aseneh had to remind herself. However, what completely surprised her was the fact that to the best of her knowledge the progeny of humans and elves was initially even less capable than freshly formed spirits in the Fade, and when she sensed her back from her domain, both of the pair had incredible and practically equal energy. Which meant she might end up taking the child. Its potential would be immeasurable while its ability to resist possession would be minimal when compared to her mother, who seemed to be an advanced wizard. She now needed a plan to isolate the child at least for a time and arrange for events that would let to her transfer into the little girls body. From the memories of her current host, she realized how the child looked – extremely short, though it was probably common for mortal progeny, red hair, yellow eyes. Her mother, tall, black hair, yellow eyes. Appeared to be a pattern. Now, what reason would there be for this body of hers… for “Darrian” to invite them over, and to get them here? She could immediately think of two. Unfortunately, it appeared they first needed to wait due to some weird perception of time by the mortals, and she couldn’t allow her vessel to sleep. That meant long hours of sitting by herself. She might as well try to learn even more about the humans. Allowing Nemain to sleep over a bit longer, Raven went out of the house simply to stretch her legs and look around at dawn. She still couldn’t believe how safe this place ultimately turned out to be. She had a few years of nearly absolute peace only broken by her attempt to take control of the place. Something she couldn’t even imagine having after that fateful year. She actually feared her skill would get a bit rusty from being under-used. Someone approached. She lifted her head. Darrian. The elven man walked closer and kneeled in front of her to loom into the eye of the witch, sitting in front of her house. Something was a bit different about his gaze. Was he drunk, or was it something else? - ‘Tis an early time to be up on your legs, Darrian. - True, and yet you’re sitting here in front of your house, all alone. - Nemain is still sleeping. I’d rather not wake her up, yet there is little to do otherwise. I think I’ll just try and prepare a different kind of lesson for her this time. Why are you around here anyway, Darrian? - I thought about you earlier, and now, seeing that you have nothing else to do… She now realized what was wrong. The way he looked at her was different. Also, now, he was moving closer. She stopped him with a move of her hand. - ‘Tis what I think, elf? - What if it is? - I appreciate the sentiment, but I thought our relations were pretty clear. I’m a bit suspicious because of the sudden change in attitude, too. Were you drinking? The man’s eyes suddenly become far more composed and conscious. The answer surprised her because of that. - Yes, I’m afraid I’ve had some. Excuse me, Raven. Would you like to come over later today? I should be fine, and you can bring Nemain, too. - If you say so… But get some sleep. We can’t have you hitting on me with her along. - I’m sorry, Raven. Of course I will. So, how about today afternoon? Will that do? - Yes, I think ‘tis fine. Darrian nodded and finally stepped away from her. Good, because she was this close to actually punching him or razing him with a spell. Sure, she had better relations with him than with rest of elves, but actually trying to seduce her? Not in this millennia. She certainly hoped it was only because of alcohol. And to think she actually considered revealing her real name to both him and Cammen. Of course, considering it was actually at least half a year from actually doing it, but still, it appeared no one here could be trusted to the smallest degree. She’d check what was really going on with Darrian but only to make sure it was only the alcohol that clouded his mind. If it wasn’t and he indeed wanted her, she’d have to break any contact. Even if it was, their relations would never get any warmer from this point on. Privately, it appeared most of these elves would eventually turn out to be great disappointments. Well, that was something she was used to. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but feel something was wrong with Darrian. His change in behavior seemed more than just a result of few drinks, and something was different about him. She was too lost in other thoughts, however, to truly take notice of that.

Later that day…
Marathia wanted to talk to the red-headed human girl during the day practices, but Nemain appeared too angry to approach. She nearly hurt one of her sparring partners during sword practice (and with a wooden sword, mind you), and so was sent home early since none of the teachers really wanted to cope with her temper. Marathia was smart enough to notice that Nemain started to imitate her mother more than usual whenever particularly agitated - an annoying trait to say the least, and one proving to her that the girl’s mother was indeed a bad influence, and an even worse parent. Easy to judge for someone so young. After practice, Marathia finally gathered the courage to visit Nemain on her own, except the problem was she was not at her own house. Neither was her mother. She wondered whether she should ask someone about where they could go or simply consider the options herself. After all, actually asking about the two humans may give her reputation of a weirdo. Therefore, the little girl just attempted to guess. When Nemain and her mother weren’t in their house, where could they be? It was either the forest, or the First’s place. Except she couldn’t look for them in the forest, and when Raven went to the First, Nemain could stay home or play outside. That meant… They probably went to the only other elf they had any relationship to speak of – Darrian, the herbalist. Marathia turned. Sure, she was always a bit shy and trying to get to talk to Nemain with two people around was about the limit for her social ability and confidence, maybe even beyond it, but it was an important matter for her. Wasting no time, she put all the strength she had in her still short legs to practically run to the herbalist’s place. When she approached, she was sure Darrian had guests. And he wasn’t exactly the kind of man who had many, many friends, so she hoped she was right, at least for her own sake. If she asked if Nemain was in and she wasn’t, little elf would burn with shame. Still, she managed to gather the knowledge, and knocked on the door. After a few moments, the door were opened, and she sighed in relief. It wasn’t Darrian that opened, it was Raven (What a stupid name, honestly). The woman tilted her head, looking at her expectantly. She looked almost cute when she did that, but Marathia had other things in mind. - Ex… Excuse me, but I thought… Maybe I could… - ‘Tis unfortunate, but I do not have all day to wait ‘til you learn proper speech. - Um… Is Nemain with you, Miss? I wanted to talk to her. - Indeed she is. However, I wonder whether I should even bother her. Do you think she wants to talk to you? Or maybe you think she should? Or you’re just here because you want to tease my daughter more? - Miss, I think Nemain misinter… mistarpreted… She didn’t think the correct way about our last visit! - Misinterpreted. - Yes! We were here simply to check on her, and she started getting angry thinking Nimrail was there to act arrogant! Nimrail has his flaws, but his not that kind of person! I really don’t want Nemain to dislike us because of a misunderstanding, furthermore, I think she should really get some friends, and I know Nimrail would like to be one… But he’ll never come here to explain himself, so I decided to do it myself instead of dragging him here, would you please let me talk with Nemain, please? Hoarfrost Raven looked at her for a moment, before smirking. Or was it a smile? The two seemed very similar on this woman. However, it appeared her purpose was achieved. - Nemain, someone came to talk to you! Again the redhead child went to the door, but with apparently less enthusiasm than before. When she stood by the door, she threw her mother an angry glance, before snarling at Marathia. - What do you want? You’re Nimrail’s friend, you’re not welcome here! - Listen, Nemain, I need to talk to you. - But I don’t want to… Suddenly, Raven intervened. - This time around, Nemain, I think you should listen to what this young lady has to say. She seems like a really wise young woman, if you ask me. Now, you two talk outside, there’s something I want to ask Darrian anyway. The pair of girls stepped outside. The hair of both spread around and nearly bound together by the wind, straw-colored hair of one meeting the red locks of the other. Marathia inhaled deeply and spoke. - You’re wrong. About Nimrail, that is. - And pray tell, what is it that I’m wrong about? - Everything. You think Nimrail wants to brag because he’s better with a bow than you. And you think this will change because you think you’re meant to be the best at everything. It’ll never change, Nemain, unless you really put some heart into it and understand what archery really means to Nimrail. - What are you talking about, elf? - You can never beat Nimrail at archery, and he has no problem with it. He doesn’t want to brag about it. And you must also understand there’s nothing wrong with someone being better at one skill than you, especially if that skill is his entire life. - How can you know such a thing? - Because of your mother speaking how special you are, you take things for granted, and you just expect your talents to make you best at everything. It doesn’t work that way. There are other talented people in this world, too, and only when one combines talent with passion can they be the best at something. Nimrail is one such person. Everyone realized he can be a great archer only a week after he first touched the bow, and it does not end at that. Nimrail loves bows, arrows, and using them. It’s half of his life, really. He trains most of the time, and fully enjoys it. Now, you, on the other hand… You don’t really care about this. You simply do not want to be worse than him. And that’s the attitude that will make you always lag behind him in terms of skill. - It’s a bit of an arrogant thing to say. What, do you see the future? - I simply know, Nemain. That’s the way it works. No doubt you think your mother is a wise person, and in many ways, she probably is, but there are things she did not teach you and that is one of them. Success comes from a combination of passion, talent, and hard work. Even if you had Nimrail’s talent, you lack his passion, and I don’t know how much you really practice, but probably less than him. That’s why I dare say you’ll never beat him with the bow. - Is this bragging about your friend the only thing you came here to do? - No. I came because I thought I could explain things to you. About Nimrail. - So, there’s more? - Nimrail… Likes you. He doesn’t understand you, apparently, but he did not have bragging in mind when we came to your house yesterday. He simply wanted to check If you were all right. He appears to sincerely care about you in his own way, maybe more so than he does about me, but that’s not the issue. Nimrail probably wants to be your friend, and you could use one. Especially if you consider other benefits. - What do you mean? - There’s no shame in trying to learn from someone else than your mother, or our fighting teachers. Nimrail could probably teach you a thing or two if you asked him, and maybe, just maybe, eventually you could catch up to him. Nemain went silent. Apparently, her pride was hurt, but something got to her. - He’s got years of experience over you and there is no shame at admitting he is and probably will be better at something. Yet, he can teach you what he knows and more, he can be your real friend. Perhaps you should consider your opinion of him. - But… Mother says… - You never asked your mother about how to get friends or who you should befriend, right? Because that should be your own decision. I don’t know her views, but I do know everyone needs friends or other people close to them. Nemain became completely quiet and stayed that way for probably a few minutes, even. Marathia waited patiently. *Something* was sinking in, yet she had to wait to see the results. Finally, the red-headed girl spoke. - Marathia, would… Would you like to be my friend, too?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The elven blonde did not expect that. However, the talk would have no effect if the answer was decidedly negative. And she did not feel like she wanted it to be entirely negative, either.

-          To be honest, I don’t know you well enough. You seem like an interesting person and not someone really bad either, but a friend is someone really special and we never really spent any significant time together, nor do I think we know enough about each other to make such decisions. However, if you can be a friend to Nimrail, I guess you could probably be a friend to me as well.

-          I… I see. I guess I should apologize and make up with Nimrail then, even though he is so annoying at times. You appear to be a bit more tolerable, Marathia. I think I’d like to get to know you better. Do you think you could visit me tomorrow? We’d talk, and play together maybe.

-          That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Unless you want to do it today then maybe we could even go find Nimrail together once we’re done, unless you prefer to do it on your own.

-          No, I think it’s best if we go together. He might get angry at me if you aren’t there. Thank you, Marathia. You’re a great girl.
The elven blonde blushed a little and smiled.
[“She has a nicer side? She!? I really should start believing in humans, it seems.”]

-          Thank you, Nemain. I think… I think I’ll get going now. See you tomorrow! – she said with a small smile and a wink.
Then, Marathia turned away and moved back to her own house.
Nemain was smiling, and in an uncharacteristic, cheerful manner.

                Darrian, or more accurately Aseneh in Darrian’s body was observing the entire discussion. Interesting. The little girl was really interesting. She could quickly gain the attention of the little human, which was now Aseneh’s true target, not to mention under different circumstances she’d make an interesting host in and of herself.
Perhaps…
Then, a hand was placed on her shoulder. Aseneh was still completely unused to such vivid feeling of one’s surrounding. She turned to face the raven-haired sorceress.

-          My, my, surely you aren’t interested in my daughter more than me, are you, Darrian?

Did she know? Or was it something else? Did she screw up on mortal etiquette? Nevermind that.

-          Of course not. I was merely watching. As I recall, not all children in the village like little… Nemain, do they?

-          That’s right. They don’t. Little Marathia however seems to be quite a sensible little lady. Now, were where we… Oh yes. Back in the morning…

-          Oh, I though we…

The woman suddenly got a lot closer, her hand shifting from Darrian’s shoulder to the back of his neck. Aseneh could feel her mortal vessel reacting weirdly to this, as if excited somewhat.

-          To be frank… I am a woman with needs, and those needs were left unfulfilled for a long time. You’ve made a pass for me in the morning, and I want to know why.

-          Isn’t it obvious? Any man would… - said Aseneh, quickly analyzing the situation. If the woman handed herself over so easily, perhaps possessing her was just as profitable as going after the little girl. The question was whether she could get what she wanted out of this situation. She believed it was worth the risk, especially after what she saw a moment ago.

-          -Oh… So you find me attractive, then?

-          Of course! Your smoldering eyes, your soft, perfect skin, long, shapely legs, voluptuous body… All men want that, don’t they?

The woman was smirking. Apparently, that was it. It seemed she would be hers. Soon, they’d land in bed, and Aseneh would slowly change her hosts as they coupled. It should be easier under such circumstances, with the sorceress distracted by the pleasure granted by the desire demon’s expert touches.

The human woman pressed her body against Darrian’s, bringing her lips dangerously close to hers, breasts squeezing against the elf’s relatively wide chest as one of her leg intermingled with his, brushing softly against his crotch.

-          Do you want me? Desire me? Lust after me?

Aseneh could feel her host’s body practically starting to burn, the appendage between his legs getting hard and ready just as it was when she possessed him, the dormant mind of the elven herbalist filled with perverted thoughts. She did not waste time, despite the girl being outside and it was possible for her to enter any moment, she brought her host’s lips to Raven’s, locking them in a kiss as Aseneh slowly moved her hands closer to the sorceress’ body.

                Suddenly, the desire demon felt her host’s pain as the woman pushed her away with surprising strength, and the demon felt magical energies flow through the room.

-          You worm… You insolent creep…

The woman’s visage begun to change, becoming ghostly pale, the eyes gaining an eerie lime green glow as the color was apparently being sucked out of the surroundings.

-          I don’t want to see you near my house nor my daughter ever again. ‘Tis over. I don’t need a horny bastard all over me whenever my daughter isn’t looking. I’m through with that type.
Suddenly, Aseneh felt the energies turned against her, a terrifying visage appearing behind the sorceress for a moment as she weaved her magic.
Aseneh appeared stunned, to her advantage, because otherwise the woman may start to suspect something. Raven turned away and left, shutting the door loudly.
                Aseneh, however, resisted the spell. The shock wasn’t caused by what it tried to project in her mind, but by the sheer power of it. She barely retained control after the spell hit, she couldn’t remember seeing so much raw magical power in a mortal mage for centuries. Apparently, the woman was both powerful and very experienced, with a strong will and equally strong hold over her power. The demon was sure now – trying to possess the woman directly was almost like going against a Pride Demon.

                Still, that made her decision easier. Possessing the woman was, apparently, out of question, so she needed to get to her daughter. The girl was apparently very young, and yet, back in the Fade, she radiated energy practically equal to her mother, who appeared to be a monster of a mage.
                That meant Nemain had incredible potential to unfold and , moreover, she had none of the experience her mother possessed. Pure raw energy to harness, for many, many years to come, without any potential to resist.

                Aseneh did not need that “Raven” woman. She needed her kid. Soon after she possessed her, she might’ve been able to just blow this village into little pieces.

                Of course, there was no way she could approach Nemain in the body of this useless male now. She needed another, and there was just one she could try and take control of.
                She just needed to find her.

Nemain turned around, her mother’s sudden exit breaking her out of her thoughts. The woman appeared irritated or even downright angry. The woman grabbed her daughter’s hand without a word and lead her away from the house they were guests in. After a fair distance, she finally spoke.

-          We won’t ever be going to Darrian’s place. Never again. I don’t want you wandering anywhere near it on your own nor do I want you to talk with this man again. He’s the worst kind. And thinking how he was actually observing you and eavesdropping through your conversation with the little elven girl I believe ‘tis safe to assume his desires are not exactly normal nor healthy either. Now, we go home. You have learning to do, and we cannot use this idiot’s books anymore.

-          Mother, why are you so angry? What did Darrian do?

-          He turned out to be a bit too typical male, ‘tis would seem. And I’m worried. ‘Twas not normal, the way he behaved today. Just stay away from him,fine?

-          Yes, mother, of course.
While not knowing the reason for her parent’s outburst, Nemain simply honestly enjoyed walking with her while her hand was being held.

                Little children demand so much affection.

<center>Later, on evening of the same day.</center>

                Finally, Aseneh found the mark.
The little person that would be her gateway into the best host imaginable for a power-hungry demoness like herself.
                The elf that some demons would take as a host for themselves, but for her, she was just a stepping stone to the best of the best.
                The blonde elven girl, Marathia.

                And moreover, she was alone. Fate was just to kind to the demoness.
She approached the elven girl from behind, licking her (or more accurately, Darrian’s) lips.

Only after that, the girl took notice of her.
She appeared to struggle for a moment to remember the herbalist’s name, but the demon inside the elf’s body did not particularly care what was their previous relationship, if there indeed was any.

-          You’re… Darrian, right? Darrian the herbalist? Why are you here? Are you lost?

-          Oh, yes, little Marathia, I believe I got lost just a little. However, can you say you know the path?

-          You sound so funny. You don’t remember the path to your own home?

Aseneh approached. The girl did not appear to be afraid at all. More like… Curious. Yes. The girl was radiating curiosity, Aseneh could tell so much without even touching her.
Kneeling and putting her host’s hand on the girl’s shoulder, Aseneh spoke.

-          Oh, I know that. What I was actually asking, Marathia, is where do you think you’re going with your life. Do you know what you want?

The girl tilted her head. She seemed distressed, maybe even a little scared now.

-          That is… an odd question. I’m young, so there is much…

-          Regardless of how young you are, there are always things you want, things you *desire*. Do you know what you really want? Are you ready to try and take it for yourself?

-          I… am not sure what you’re referring to, Mister. Why are you asking me all this?
Aseneh started to hold the girl’s hand. She could feel the girl tense up now, but she wasn’t screaming, wasn’t trying to get away.
                The demon already had Marathia in her wake.

-          You see, this is because I know what you really want. If I felt like it, I could help you accomplish all this.

-          Mister, this is weird… Please let go… I don’t really understand what you’re talking about!

-          Do you not? I’ll tell you exactly what you want. Every single thing.

The little girl went silent, and started trembling. She’ll either pass out or scream soon, Aseneh was sure of that.

-          You wish to know. You want to know things that shouldn’t interest a girl in a peaceful place like this. You want to know nearly everything about nearly anything. Your curiosity is endless. You want to experience and learn of as much as you can. But there is something more, isn’t it? The thing that draws your curiosity the most. “What I am really made for? What is my purpose? What am I really good at, the best at?” And yet, for all the wishes born out of curiosity you have, I think there’s something lying beneath all that, is it not?

The girl was breathing rapidly and sweating profusely, the heart in her little chest threatening to burst out, it seemed. Aseneh looked even deeper into the girl’s mind as the tendrils of her power slowly pushed themselves into the little elf, bonding the two in a way that the little elf could not understand at all, but was apparently starting to feel and recognize. Aseneh brought her humanoid’s host head close to the little girl’s, and whispered.

-          Oh. That desire is inappropriate for your age.

Marathia shouted out, closing her eyes, but was silenced by some soft body part of the strange man who was talking to her. It was weird, creepy. She did not want to hear those things, most of all, she did not want to feel closer and closer to the man, almost as if he threatened to engulf her, consume her, make her nothing but a part of him permanently.

Yet it was unavoidable. Her mind was suddenly clouded, she found herself unable to open her eyes, to look. She felt as if a strange wind was blowing right through her, and then as if hundreds if not thousands of insects or similar creatures were crawling over her…

        And then, as if they crawled *inside* of her.

All that horror was exchanged with a flash of a pleasurable feeling, as if something warm seethed into her. Then, Marathia slowly lost consciousness.

        The girl’s small body lifted itself off the ground, legs shaky under her very own length.

This one had far less strength, of course, and was nowhere near as matured and as knowledgeable as her previous host, but somehow, Aseneh felt more at home inside of the little girl. Maybe it had something to do with her hidden talent. Or perhaps it was simply the gender of the little creature – back in Fade the Desire Demon did not possess a weird reproductive appendage that dangled between her legs and caused discomfort and it was certainly not used to possessing one here. The girl was far more similar to her natural form and as such, getting the hang of how to move her body should take only a few minutes as opposed to dozens of minutes.

        Aseneh could not help but smile, however she was then quickly approached by a group of elves, and she vaguely realized those had to be the little girl’s parents.

-          Marathia, what happened? Why were you screaming? What happened to this man?

-          I don’t… I don’t know, Father! I ran into him as he was lying on the ground already, and I was so scared, I think I started screaming… Is he… is he dead?

The elven man examined Darrian’s body, shifting him on the ground and checking his pulse.
The desire demon doubted he’d get up anywhere soon. Close spiritual and physical proximity to the demon must have taken its toll, not to mention she drained part of his spiritual energy to keep him dormant and separated from her – the older elf’s magical talents were rather pathetic even though they were there and allowed her entrance into this world.

                In comparison, the little elven girl had quite strong hidden potential, but it was lagging centuries behind when compared to the power little Nemain exhibited in the Fade and promised to show in the future.
                However, she could spend some time in this body and it was far more suited to its task, especially now that the little mortal’s mother seemed so antagonistic towards her former vessel.

Tomorrow, she could meet up with the little girl. For now, she needed an excuse to be carried.

-          Father, I think there’s something wrong with my leg. It… hurts.

-          It’s fine darling. Stay here. I’ll get some help… This is Darrian the Herbalist, isn’t it? I’ll be right back. You just stay here, I’ll carry you back to our house as soon as I get some help.

-          Yes, father.
The elven man immediately run off back into the village to get someone to help him with moving the man that apparently scared his daughter.

                Aseneh waited patiently, trying to absorb all the thoughts and memories the little girl had travelling through her head as well as to analyze her vessel’s spirit more carefully. Her plan could be dangerous and she needed the kid at her peak in case it turned out to be.

All she needed to do was wait until tomorrow and then she could put it into motion.

                She pretended she went to sleep once the man carried her back home, but in truth, she practiced moving first, and then spend the night looking through the window, waiting anxiously for the next day as she pondered both her current vessel and her next one.

                Aseneh had her previous experiences with the human world, but the delicious souls of human or elven apprentices she sometimes craved to join with from beyond the Veil were always closely watched and warded by the Chantry and their dogs, as well as the wizard’s teachers themselves.
                Now, after her long slumber, she awakened just to find a nearly unprotected little girl in an elven village. And that little girl has shown greater promise than any of the students of arcane she observed before.

                The longer the desire demon thought about it, the more often she licked her lips. Or, more accurately, her vessel’s.
[“Just…one…day…”].

Raven was slightly upset at the events of the previous day, but decided to take a rest and calm down. After all, a person that could eventually become something of a friend to Nemain was visiting tomorrow. It could be a bad influence on their future relationship if she acted angrily, even if said relationship wasn’t meant to survive for a long time.

        She lied down. Anger at Darrian shouldn’t become the problem of anybody else, at least that’s how common sense dictated.

Honestly, common sense and social rules were very annoying to her, but still, during her tenure with the elves, she tried to comply and continued to do so in the future. So, she forced herself to finally calm down and went to sleep.

<center>The next day…</center>

        Nemain was very nervous since Marathia was coming over today and she’s been thinking all day what were they going to do together. She did not know the girl very well so she was unsure what would she be interested in. She did not want to bore her with reading unless it was something really special and borrowing one of Mother’s special books was out of question. Same thing about playing with her magical elixirs, she’d get angry if they did. Perhaps she’d let them go out on their own.

        Mother could be too harsh sometimes. Even though she had two books that she always kept to herself, she only kept reading one of them and still wouldn’t let her read the other in the free time (If Mother didn’t allow anyone else to have the books, that must have meant there’s something really cool in them!).

        Still, she needed to listen to her, and as such, was at loss as to what exactly should they do. Any normal toys would not probably suffice.

        The girl would be here any moment, and she still wasn’t sure about what to do.

Then, the sound of knocking on the door. She got up, nervous, not knowing whether to wait for Mother to answer or answer herself. Which would be more efficient? Appearing cool and letting mother open the door or appearing as a daughter that is nice, good obe… what was the word? Anyway, opening the door herself?

        Too late. Mother opened the door. She heard her invite “the girl” inside. Moments after, Nemain was standing in front of both the sorceress and her newest potential friend.

        Marathia somehow seemed different, but Nemain guessed it was just because she was also nervous.

Mother spoke.

-          I will leave you two alone for now. If you want to go out, make sure to inform me. Don’t try to play with any of my elixirs. If you want to read something, Nemain, you know what’s allowed and where to find it. I’ll be going. Have fun, you two.

As soon as Mother left, Marathia suddenly spoke.

-          Easy for her to say if you can’t go out on your own and all the best things are probably not allowed, isn’t it?

Nemain practically beamed at her. Finally, someone understood.

-          Yes, yes, that’s exactly right! You’re so smart and understanding, Marathia!

The elven girl smirked.

-          Oh, I have many more good traits and things I’m skilled at. I wish I could show you, but for that, we would have to be away from your mother…

-          Oh, we can’t. If we were to go anywhere far, Mother would probably want to come with us, and anywhere near she might still try to keep a close eye on us. She seems more nervous and protective lately, I don’t understand why.

-          Oh, then, we’ll just have to pass time until we have a chance to run off for a few moments, I guess…

-          Let me show you around our house, Marathia. This is the room where we eat, and mother cooks behind these doors. It’s cramped in there so I won’t lead you inside. Now, there… That’s the reading room. Mother gives me lessons there. It has a small library and there’s lots of stuff to read, but honestly, most of it seems boring… Although there is some about magic, it is mostly just the… themo… thero…

-          Theoretical?

-          Yes, Marathia! I’m impressed you know words like that!

-          It’s nothing… - Marathia seemed a bit distressed, but returned to her normal way moment afterwards.

-          You know, there are two books I’d really like to read that Mother always keeps to herself. I have a feeling there’s something really great in them, but Mother never lets me read neither, even though she always just locks or takes one and reads the other. She claims she’s read the first one already.

-          Sounds like your mother is very strict…

-          Yes, she is!

-          I bet you’d like to disobey her sometimes, wouldn’t you?

Nemain lowered her head. That was a difficult question.

[“She understands much… And it’s true Mother is strict… but…”]

-          No, Marathia. That is not correct.

-          No? Why?

-          It’s true that Mother is strict, but when I listen to her and do as she says she can be really nice… She smiles and she rewards me, and hugs me, and somehow seems different. It’s at these moments that I feel the happiest, so, no, I want to continue to listen to Mother if it can be that way…

-          Oh, I see.

Marathia ran a hand through her hair and smirked again, as they moved to the next room.

-          It appears I misunderstood your desire. You seem like a really strong and cool girl, so I thought you’d like to be independent from your mother, but this does not seem to be the case. I think I get it now, though…



Marathia looked at the room as if searching for something. They talked and played with wooden toys for a while, before the elven girl noticed something on the table. Going over to it, she asked.

-          What is this mirror? It looks pretty.

Nemain looked over. Shining glass in a gold frame, with a handle made of the same material.

-          It’s Mother’s favorite mirror. I don’t know why, but it appears to be one of her most prized… things. She likes some more than others, but this appears to be the one she likes the most.

-          Oh, I see.

Marathia appeared to be thinking something over.

Truth was, Aseneh strongly suspected there was something special about the mirror if the girl’s mother liked it so much. After all, a mage of such power rarely paid attention to earthly things if they weren’t too important to survive…

Or exceptional, enchanted. Magical.

        She moved her host’s body towards the table, and picked up the mirror.

-          I wouldn’t touch it if I were you. If you damaged it, Mother might get angry.

Marathia just looked at the mirror, holding it and looking at all angles.

[“No. Nothing. It’s pretty, but… That’s all. No magic. Honestly…”]

-          Honestly, to get angry over damaging… such a small, useless thing…

The door of the room opened, and Raven was about to walk in, asking if the two wanted something to eat.

        Marathia dropped the mirror.

The sorceress’ gold-tinted eyes widened in surprise and shock. Her jaw slacked, mouth open as if she couldn’t believe her own eyes. The mirror was falling down onto the ground, was about to shatter, and…

        Anger and focus instead of surprise. It took only one second, and suddenly, a field of energy surrounded the falling mirror moment before it struck the ground. Strange sound, and that was it. The mirror didn’t shatter. Moment later, the field disappeared, and Raven ran over to pick it up and check it for any damage.

Her face was full of rage.

-          You… insolent, idiotic little elven bitch…’Tis… ‘Tis…

Nemain was honestly scared by that point. She rarely if ever saw Mother as angry in her entire life.

For a moment, her brain shut down as a wave of mental force nearly knocked both her and Marathia out. It was visible Raven barely stopped herself from using something more destructive.

-          Get out of here. Both of you. Especially you, little bitch. Go play with the Nimrail guy or whatever, I don’t care. If this mirror is broken in a single place, I can’t guarantee I can stop myself from harming you if I ever meet you again. Get out before I kill you.

Nemain grabbed Marathia by the hand and ran out of the room, pulling her along. She was going for the house’s exit.

-          That was stupid. Very stupid. I told you Mother treasured that mirror! How could you have been so careless as to drop the mirror? Now, mother will hate you and we’ll never be able to meet at our house again! Let’s get going to Nimrail, and when I return I’ll talk to Mom and maybe she’ll…

-          I’m sorry.

-          Hm?

-          I’m sorry if I gave you trouble, however, now, your mother isn’t watching you now, right?

-          That’s true, but what’re you getting at?

-          Now, we can go play on our own before we visit the bo… Nimrail. And I could show you really cool thing as we do.

-          That’s true, but won’t Mother get angry?

-          Oh, she’ll never know. She send us off herself, she thinks we went to Nimrail. If we’ll be away a bit longer and have a small venture into the forest, she’ll never notice.

-          I’m not sure…

-          Oh, come on, Nemain, don’t be so boring! Surely you’ve had enough of reading and just sitting home yourself, didn’t you? Let’s go to the forest for a while and play together! And then, I’ll show you all the cool things I can do!

-          I guess… It’s fine if it’ll only take a while, right?

-          Yes, Nemain… Let’s go now…

Marathia lead Nemain into the forest, where they were going away and away from Raven’s hut.

                It was merely a matter of distance. No matter how fast the witch could move, past a certain point she’d never make it in time.

                The sorceress was still in her room, kneeling on the floor, clutching the mirror close after inspecting it for any damage.
[“What… just happened? ‘Tis true I like this mirror, but… Why did I get so angry?”]
The question was simple.
[“Memories… Childhood… And then, HE gave me this mirror…”]
She snarled as she put the mirror back on the table, her own face with black hair and golden eyes surrounded by dark violet makeup…

[“Am I really this weak? To get so angry simply because ‘tis single item contains so many memories? Disgusting.”]

                She sat down on the bed, deciding to wait until her daughter returns. She’d explain that she doesn’t blame her despite her allowing the elven girl to play with the mirror and that they may still be friends even though her own mother doesn’t like Marathia anymore.
At least, that was the positive version of the plan. If Nemain turned out to be too defying and would be aggressive about the situation, she’d have to punish her.
                She smiled. It appeared she her own parenting was in ways imitating the way she was raised. However, she did not ever intend parting with her daughter, at least not anytime soon, and especially not the way fate had in store for her and her own parents.



                In the forest, Nemain was getting slightly nervous because it was slowly starting to get darker as sunset was approaching. Also, they were already very far from her house and she could’ve sworn that she heard sounds of wolves and probably other animals in the distance. Marathia, however, continued to pull her further away, constantly saying they needed to go “just a bit further”.

                Finally, Nemain stopped when she was sure she heard something coming from the bushes.

-          Marathia, I don’t think we should go any further… Let’s go back…

-          Hmmm, no, though I do think this is far enough. Now, I promised to show you something, right?

-          But…
They were cut off by a loud bark right next to them as a wolf walked out of the bushes. It appeared to be alone, but still, Nemain was scared. Mother was right, it appeared. The forest was dangerous.

-          Marathia, we should… better run… Those animals are…

-          Dangerous? Don’t make me laugh. Here, let me show you…

Marathia pulled out a large knife just as Aseneh finally managed to force the girl’s spiritual power out as magic. It appeared one of her primary talents was primal Earth magic, an element the demon wasn’t too familiar with, but she could still force the usage of it upon the child.

        There was a high chance she would be permanently awaking and perhaps even twisting and morphing the child’s magical talent as a result of doing this, but soon she’ll possess her perfect vessel, so there was no need to hold back in protecting it.

        A layer of glowing brown covered her, almost as if an armor of earth, which it indeed was, except it appeared skin-tight. The wolf jumped and she pushed her vessel against it, the knife cutting the creature’s flesh with the strength an elven girl could not possess under normal circumstances. The wolf’s teeth tried to penetrate the Rock Armor but failed to do so as she continued to slice with the knife. She dodged the jumping wolf before throwing a rock at it to keep its attention away from Nemain. As it tried to jump on her and pin her down, she painfully cut its rear leg and kicked it to the side as it landed. The carnivorous animal howled before finally succeeding in pinning her down with its greater weight. The animal opened its jaws to try and break through the armor, and indeed, moments after, she could feel her vessel’s pain.

        She started to force more spiritual energy out of her vessel, turning her magical abilities up, forcing them to grow as she slowly weaved her own essence into it, trying to get to something which could kill the creature, regardless of whether it was fully or just barely compatible with the little girl’s talents. It was taking too long, however. She was confident in the power of the armor, but it was limited. The little girl’s endurance and life force was even more limited.

        Suddenly, something kicked the creature’s head away from her. Nemain appeared to have overcome and fear and also display physical strength unusual for a child with this kick.

        Aseneh wasted no time, grabbing the animal’s head and thrusting the blade straight through it. The animal convulsed on top of her, and fell down, apparently dead, with the knife’s blade rammed through its skull. She pulled herself away from it and deactivated the armor, the little girl’s spiritual energy already above what she expected. Perhaps her species, which somehow differed from Nemain’s and her mother’s, were quite proficient with magic due to some quirk of fate or whatever. She didn’t care. Nemain was right next to her, and her mother had no chance of reaching them in time.

        Her time in this vessel was short. She managed to twist her magical talent, to infect it with her demonic power and thus strengthen its growth. Perhaps it was just a temporary effect, or perhaps it was permanent. Perhaps it’d just affect a small part of her abilities, leaving the girl with a spell she’d normally probably not possess as a “gift” or perhaps she’d just bred a shadowy mage that would eternally dabble in schools and field of magic deemed too difficult, mysterious and dangerous for others, but she honestly did not care anymore.

        She turned to face Nemain, who seemed to be relieved.

-          That was close! More importantly, Marathia, you can use magic! Real magic! I’ve never thought you could do awesome stuff like that!

-          Well, I can… It’s easy for me. I bet you would like to be able to use magic as well, wouldn’t you? - Marathia asked, slowly closing down on Nemain.

-          Y…Yes, but Mother always insist about theory first and lots of boring trainings and lessons, and she didn’t teach me any real magic yet even though she is such a powerful mage!

-          Shhhh, it’s fine, Nemain – the girl said, placing her hands on Nemain’s shoulders. – I know. You really want your Mother’s attitude towards you to change, right?

-          Y…Yes. But, how do you know?
The girl was hugging her close now. Nemain felt… weird.

-          I know about it all, Nemain. About all the things you want. You want your mother’s approval, and, if possible, the admiration of her and others. You want her to acknowledge you and be impressed with you. You want her undivided attention, and, in fact, as much of the attention of everyone else as possible, don’t you?

Nemain was silent. Everything was so… spot-on. How did Marathia know all these things?

-          However, the most surprising thing is… - her hand travelled to the redhead’s cheek, stroking it gently and lifting her eyes to meet with the elf’s -… that this very special girl in front of me has just the single greatest need that her mother so pitifully fails to meet. What you really want from her…

She got her face really close, whispering conspiratorially

-          … is simply affection, isn’t it?
She kept stroking her cheek as Nemain nodded, small tears forming in her eyes.

-          I can help you obtain all these things if you just let me do what I want and help you. Would you like that?

-          Y… Yes… but ho…

-          Shhhh… Just stay silent and don’t move. Everything will be all right from now on.

With these words, Marathia placed a kiss on Nemain’s lips. The redhead felt as if something strange was engulfing her and then seeping into her body, and then, even deeper.



She took it all in, and watched the elven girl collapse. Her own body and her eyelids felt heavy, while her head, on the other hand, felt very light. She heard whispers that felt odd, but familiar in her head. She saw the visions of the strange place she visited with her mother, the one with the bones of a creature – dragon, was it?

      Something was wrong with her. Memories and visions of events she never saw take place appeared in her head, creatures she has never seen, so disgusting they could freeze blood in her veins.

      She couldn’t keep herself awake any longer, and she slid straight into that nightmare.

      The witch was already out of her house, panting nervously.

Nemain wasn’t in the village. And she could swear something was wrong. She’d felt two characteristic bursts of Fade energy moments ago. One suggested a demon.

      The other one suggested her daughter, but she could never sense her that way outside of the Fade.

All the thoughts and ideas that popped in her head at once seemed like very, very bad scenarios. She needed to get there as soon as possible, and she wouldn’t cut on the means of doing it.

      She just hoped she’d make it in time.

      Nemain stood on the spine of the giant creature, the woman before her clearly not human, knowledge of what she was only slowly entering her mind.

-          Strange. I did not expect the whole thing to take place in the Fade, nor did I expect you to resist possession for so long. However, girl, you should just give up. Your body and all it has to offer will soon be mine, as will be your mind. I intend to make good use of it, though, so rest assured.

-          What are you doing to me?

-          Possessing you. Is that not clear? Doing it with your mother would be too much work. You show far greater promise, and are still so young. I think I’m going to enjoy my time with you, girl.

-          How dare you…

-          Huh?

-          You decide things on your own… Things where I am in question… While being just a petty demon who’d never even be able to stand up to me here? How dare you?!

-          What are you talking about?

-          You’ll never possess me. You’re going to be obliterated right here.

The woman walked to her, releasing her own power. Nemain did not understand what was going on, but something was happening both to her body and to her mind.

The demon was about to do something bad to her, but as it almost touched her, it withdrew her hand in horror.

-          What the… What’s wrong with you? With this place? How are you able to nullify so much of my energy despite just being a kid?!

Nemain felt pain. She groaned. More of these memories. More of the visions. Something was very wrong about both her body and her mind. The demonic woman in front of her spoke, eyes widening in shock, fear, even.

-          On the mightiest Pride Demons, just what is… Happening to you?

            Raven arrived where her daughter and the elven girl collapsed.
Too late. Far too late. She should’ve recognized it all earlier, but now, it was undeniable. The Veil got weaker in several places in the village across the last two or three days and this was the last of such places.
            The fact that there was a burst of demonic energy and yet no sign of demon, and both of the girls were still alive meant one of them probably was possessed.

            If it was Marathia, the situation was quite bad, but manageable. But, if it was Nemain…

[“Even I am unable to foresee the ultimate consequences of a demon interacting with her in such a way at such an early point in her life… One thing is certain, though… None of the outcomes would do anything good. I need to grab them and get back…”]

<center>Some time later</center>

Back in her hut, Raven was thinking of a way to bring the two girls back into the land of the living. The only way to do it immediately she could think of could kill Marathia and get Nemain into an even worse state, so that was out of question.

                She closed her eyes. What she was about to do could be risky, but she decided to assume the worst possible scenario. She cast the spell and felt a mental connection to Marathia.

                The girl was alive and not possessed, merely drained and put into some kind of coma. She easily countered it with her spell, which would leave the girl disoriented for a time but bring her out of the coma quickly, combined with the second part of the procedure. Grabbing an incense of awareness, she burned the resin and forced the girl to inhale.

                Marathia awakened and opened her eyes, seeing Nemain’s mother leaning towards her. Something was wrong with her head, but the woman was seemingly impatient, shaking her and forcing her to awaken quicker.

-          Quickly, girl! What happened in the forest?! What have you done to Nemain!?

-          The… forest? I… didn’t do anything…

-          Then what happened?! What do you remember?! What is the last thing you remember?!

-          I… was about to go back home, when… I’ve met someone…

-          What? Whom? ‘Tis important! Recall events more quickly!

-          I… think I was to visit Nemain the next day, but… just when I was about to return home… I ran into a man… He said the strangest things. They were somewhat correct, but still… I don’t remember anything after that.

-          The man, who was it?! Did you recognize him?!

-          Yes… I think it was Darrian the herbalist…

Raven’s eyes widened. She seemed pale, and shocked…

-          I…’Tis… This is bad… Of course, ‘twas why he acted so weirdly recently…

-          I… feel strange…

-          You were possessed, girl. By a demon. Darrian passed the demon to you, as it probably hoped to get to Nemain from the very beginning… I should’ve known! BLAST IT, I should have noticed !

-          Is something wrong?

-          Be silent, girl! Thanks to you and this idiot Darrian, my daughter is in danger, no, more than that, she’s in a state that could be a danger to all of us! I need… I need to get Cammen, and…
Marathia was getting scared now. The woman kept saying something was wrong with Nemain, and indeed, she was lying next to her, and the girl was barely breathing.

-          Marathia, stay here until you get better. I need to grab Nemain and go to the Keeper. He’s the only one who can help me with what I need to do.

Indeed, the witch grabbed her daughter, and practically ran out of the hut. Marathia was at loss. Something terrible has happened, that much, she was sure of. Something was also different about her. She felt… Things she had never felt before. Something inside her was slowly growing, but it was merely filling a small void that somehow expanded her very… sense of self.

        Something changed in the time she lost after that man touched her. She was somehow… different.

        But she was also sure it was a good change. She was stronger.

This was what she was going to be really good at.

        Cammen turned only to see his female mentor carry her daughter into his tent. He patiently waited for the explanation.

-          We have a problem. There’s been demonic activity in the village lately. I shouldv’e detected it earlier, but it was far too subtle. Darrian was possessed and passed the demon to one of the girls in the village who just happened to befriend Nemain the day before. But my daughter was the demon’s true purpose from the beginning.

-          Nemain? Why?

-          I told you she is special. Apparently, the demon sensed it, too. And that’s where the problem is. ‘Tis attempt of possession… Even if it were to go normally, results would be devastating. However, it will not. I have no idea what will happen to my daughter or this demon during the event, but it definitely is not something we can *allow* to happen. I need your help. I need you to help me get to the Fade and stop whatever’s happening to my daughter. Otherwise, at the worst case scenario, we could all be doomed. The only other results would end with a tragedy amongst your people or with my daughter’s death. Neither of these is acceptable.

-          Are you…

-          SHUT UP, Cammen. We have no time to discuss. There’s nothing to discuss. Get me lyrium. In all forms. Lots of lyrium. Any form. I shall prepare the rest. We’ll only be probably able to send one person with so quickly-gained resources. ‘Tis means I will have to go alone.

-          Aren’t you putting yourself in danger? You could be possessed and made into an Abomination as well, couldn’t you?

Raven just glared at him. He immediately went silent.

-          Just who do you think I am? Yourself?

Cammen nodded. He would prepare the necessary lyrium and help his mentor with the ritual as needed, and simply had to hope she was right.

        Because if she was changed into an abomination, then his clan truly was doomed. And yet, this woman, this cold, calculating woman with power like none he has ever seen, was far more afraid of letting her daughter become one… or whatever scenario was likely. That meant he should be, as well.

        Once they gathered enough resources, the ritual commenced. With the final incantation from Cammen, Raven appeared to go into a trance.

        He only hoped nothing bad would happen.

        Raven stretched the spiritual version of her body and looked around.

        Things appeared grim. The sky was slowly changing color from the pale green hue common in the Fade to a glowing deep purple she vaguely associated with a rather unpleasant memory.

Ground was shaking. Everything around was slowly being filled with a dangerous kind of energy.

        She never anticipated that she could be so afraid of what was going to happen to a person other than herself. She needed to move, to act quickly. Otherwise, all she tried to achieve for the last couple of years might be lost.

        And it so happened that it wasn’t a process that could be easily repeated. Not to mention, while she didn’t like to admit it, the raven-haired sorceress cared for her daughter too much to allow such a grim fate to take her.
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Dragon Age : Circle of Primordial Divinity

Chapter III Bad Kind of Attention