The New Ways of Old Gods Chapter 22

Chapter 22
What Once was Lost

Aslyr couldn't sleep.  Her rooms seemed wrong somehow.  Perhaps after all the days of camping, a soft bed felt like a lie.  She pondered sleeping on the floor by the hearth but changed her mind.  Instead she climbed out of bed and put on her tunic and boots.  She wrapped her thick cloak about herself and made for the kitchens.

There was some activity amongst the heat of the ovens and clattering pots and pans, though not much.  The baking would not begin until the wee hours of the morning.  For now the remaining kitchen staff cleaned and chatted, sometimes stopping work all together to play a hand of cards.  When she walked into the room everyone jumped.  The elf with the crooked teeth stepped timidly forward, “Ma'am?”

“Do you have any carrots or apples?  If not a few cubes of sugar will do,” Astlyr said, giving everyone a reassuring smile to try to settle them.

“We have a few carrots and apples in the cellar.  In this season they look a bit...sad,” admitted the elf with a shy smile.

“Hmmmm, perhaps the sugar then.  I'd hate to deprive anyone of the few remaining fruit and veg.”

“Right away, ma'am,” said the elf, bobbing a quick bow and grinning.  He darted to a nearby canister and selected a handful of sugar cubes.  “Going to the stable, ma'am.”

“You know me too well already,” she said as she took the sugar.

The elf beamed at this, obviously thrilled that he had guessed her cause.  He would be telling the other kitchen helpers about this, she knew.  It was odd to be the object of such adoration, when throughout much of her life her presence had been greeted with shouts and people fleeing, or worse, attacking.  “Thank you,” she said, raising her filled hand to them as she departed.  Already she could hear the buzz of their talking begin again.  What a thrilling night.  A visit from the inquisitor.  They must not have gotten word of her judgment that day.  Was it possible they had and they did not care?

Outside it snowed heavily.  She knew a wind blew high above the walls, for she could see the flags whipping wildly as if trying for freedom.  She crossed the short distance between the keep and the stable, picking her way around drifts forming against the walls.  Fortunately the kitchens had a door that came up right near where the horses were kept.

Astlyr reached the stables and found that, unlike with the kitchens, almost everyone here was asleep.  The lad who had been set to watch for the night was curled up on a bale of hay, mouth slightly agape in slumber.  Astlyr found a wool blanket hanging on a chair and spread it over the boy.  Then she quietly went after the brushes she would need.

Smoke was not asleep, but sifting through his bedding with his lip to seek out anything that remained of his dinner.  He raised his head when he heard her coming and made a low rumble of a greeting.  Astlyr breathed in the heady smell of horse.  It was warm on this end of the stables.  She could hear the gentle sound of the big animals moving in their stalls.  Every now and then they would make small sounds to one another.  It was immensely reassuring just to stand in the company of such creatures.

She let herself into Smoke's stall and he butted her with his head immediately, ears forward, nostrils flared.  “Rude,” she scolded him, but fed him a sugar cube none the less.  “I'm sorry it's not apples.  We're running low.”  The horse little minded that his favorite food was not being offered, as his second favorite would do well enough.  He ran his thick lip over her hand in a tickling, sweeping motion and she enjoyed the feel of his velvety muzzle.  His hot breath ghosted over her hand and wrist.

She left the rest of the sugar outside his stall for later and set about giving him a brushing.  It was unnecessary, as the stable hands had cleaned him well when he had come back from questing, but she enjoyed doing it and Smoke certainly did not mind.  She knew his thick winter coat could be itchy.

She let her thoughts drift.  Let her concerns float away for the moment.  She sighed, taking in the odor of hay and horse.  Even the manure smell was reassuring.  She spoke to Smoke in a hushed voice.  One ear swiveled around to listen.  “When I was little my father got me a pony.  He said no daughter of his was going to grow up not knowing how to ride.  It was a shaggy little thing, and willful as they come.  Mostly I sat on its back and it went where ever it liked.  I was just along for the ride.”

Smoke swung his big head around and lipped her shoulder as though inquiring why he was not allowed the same arrangement.  She petted his face.  “Eventually I outgrew that pony.  Father sold it to help afford a full sized horse.  Mother's old mare had finally died and the family needed one for the plowing, and then I could learn to ride him.  He was a heavy horse, like you.  Father named him Maximus.  He was not nearly as willful as my pony, but Maker was he ever lazy.”

Smoke snorted and she imagined he was expressing displeasure at such a vice in a horse.  “Well,” Astlyr pointed out, moving around Smoke to brush his other side.  “He wasn't as fine as you, now was we?  He was a plow horse, not a war horse.”  Smoke huffed again, then sneezed.  Astlyr laughed, though quietly.  “I was a little sad to see that pony go.  I knew it didn't even like me, really.  I was a nuisance, but I missed our rambles together, when I would hold on and the wee thing would take me all over.”

“Your father was worried you wouldn't come back.”

Astlyr jumped, head snapping up from her task.  Cole was leaning against the stall door, arms resting over the top and chin against the wood.  He watched her with his spectral eyes.  She wondered how long he had been there.  She supposed that he still had the ability to make himself unseen, though he did not use it much any more.  His expression was placid as he watched her brush.  “Are you alright, Cole?” she asked.

The boy ignored her question.  “When you're finished here will you come with me?”

“Of course,” she said, without even bothering ask where.  “I'm almost done.”

“You don't need to hurry,” Cole said, still leaning against the stall.  His posture seemed relaxed.  “I like night sometimes.  People have bad dreams, but their pain isn't as loud.  Muted by sleep, dreams that don't matter.  Anxiety works itself free like a baby tooth.  They don't need my help.”

“But you love helping,” Astlyr pointed out.

“Only if they need me.  When they don't need me I don't help,” Cole shrugged.  Then he moved away, almost as though he did not realize he was doing it.  He touched a hand to the forehead of the slumbering stable boy.  Then he looked up, sheepishly.  “He was dreaming that he had made a mistake and all the horses had gotten free.  I gave him a better dream.”

“I thought he didn't need your help,” Astlyr tried to contain her smile.

Cole's lips twitched in a wan grin of his own.  “I'm not always the best at not helping.”  He watched then as Astlyr fed Smoke another sugar cube.  She passed one towards the boy, who offered it to the horse.  Smoke plucked it gingerly from Cole's hand and the spirit boy sighed with pleasure.  “I like horses.  Their minds are...pure.  They have quick pain that passes.  Smoke's thoughts are steady, standing stalwart.  Watch over, protect, love.”

Astlyr smiled and gave her horse's thick neck and firm pat.  “He is a good horse.  Couldn't ask for better.  Now, what was it you wanted to show me?”

“Come with me?” Cole asked again, angling his body to indicate they were going out of the other stable doors.  The ones near the back where they used to take the slop.

“Alright,” Astlyr said, guessing where they were going, but uncertain why.  She put away the brushes and gave Smoke a few more treats before she shrugged her cloak around her more tightly and went with her friend.  She watched the boy walk with her instead of teleporting ahead.  He seemed contemplative.  “Are you alright, Cole?”

“The people forgive you when they don't agree with you,” he said, hands before him, slim fingers twisting as he reached for the minds of others.  “Even those who thought you were wrong to send those mages into the Fade, they talk about you, complain sometimes, but they always forgive.  They see the good outweighs what they don't like.”

Astlyr felt a weight lift from her shoulders, knowing Cole had chosen his words for just such a reason.  “Thank goodness for that.  I hope I don't have to keep testing their ability for forgive,” she muttered.  “I have a feeling there are going to be more, larger things for them to disagree with soon enough.”

“Like elf gods,” Cole said.  It wasn't a question.

“Yes,” Astlyr sighed.

She had been correct about their destination.  Down they stepped into the dark of the elven temple behind the stables.  It was black as pitch and Astlyr faltered.  No Fen'Harel to make a light with his magic.  Then she felt cold fingers entwine with hers.  Cole led her as carefully as one might lead a child.  Guiding her skillfully he told her how many steps there were and when to duck her head because of a bit of stone would have struck her horns.  She heard their footsteps echoing across the great room.  In her mind's eye she could see the beautiful elvhen art.  She wondered if any of Skyhold's elves had come down to leave offerings or pray to their gods.  What would those people do if they found that some of those gods walked amongst them now?  She shuddered.  She did not think they were ready for that information yet.  The time would come, but the time was not now.  She had seen how people had reacted to her, and she wasn't even a real Herald.  No goddess had chosen her, yet the mere notion had sent the church into an uproar.  People falling at her feet in adoration she did not desire or deserve.

Cole stopped.  Astlyr could see faintly now.  Her superior qunari night vision was coming through for her.  Still, she did not let go of Cole.  She didn't need him forgetting himself and teleporting away without her.  She could make out the pale glimmer of gold on the wall and guessed they must be standing before one of the paintings, but she had no idea which.  Cole finally spoke, “I came down here to think after...”

“After I sent those people to the Fade?”

“Yes.”

“Are you upset with me for that?” she asked, nervous.  She could not recall ever having Cole angry with her.  Certainly other things and bothered him, but he always seemed willing to go along with her decisions.

“Maybe,” he said, and she felt his cool fingers tighten fractionally as he stood beside her, seemingly gazing at the mural she could not see.  “I don't know.  I wasn't happy.  You sent those people, the ones who hurt others, into a place that will hurt them, and I should feel happy.  Lots of people feel happy.  They think that those mages should be tortured by demons and lost forever.”

“You don't?”

“I don't know,” Cole said, how voice hushed, though it still echoed.  “I...I can't decide.  You sent them into my home...my old home.”

Astlyr touched the wall, feeling the slightly raised texture of the paint.  It did not flake away beneath her touch.  A testament to elvish technique.  “I think I understand.  Even though you have not been back to the Fade in a long time, you still think of it as your home.  I just sent three murderers into your home.”  She looked down towards him again, just able to make out his shape in the gloom.

“The Fade isn't my home any more,” Cole mumbled.  “I belong in Skyhold now.  With the people of Skyhold.  I don't even want to go back to the Fade, so I don't understand why I'm unhappy with you.”

“It's alright, Cole,” Astlyr said, taking her turn to give his hand a squeeze, wishing that she could warm it, but his skin remained as cool as ever.  “You don't always have to be happy with me.  No one is. You know that because you can sense it.”

“Like when you let me stay here.  You made Vivienne angry with you.  She stopped being angry.  She forgave you.”

“You forgave that templar that hurt Cole,” Astlyr risked something.  The boy had seemingly made himself forget the situation after he let the templar go.  She had long wondered if he had truly released the memory, or if part of it still lingered.

Cole did not answer her.  Instead he moved again and she followed, still being led by the hand.  “Why did you want me to come down here, Cole?”

“I came to visit the Fade,” the boy admitted.

“You did?” she put out her free hand to let her fingertips brush along the wall as they walked.  “Cole...do you regret remaining a spirit?  Varric seemed to think that you could become more human, but I wasn't certain that would make you happy.  Did I make the right choice?”

Cole stopped and she felt him turn to face her.  She could just make out his pale eyes, twin orbs of dusky blue in the darkness.  “I don't know if I could have been more human.  I like being a spirit.  It is...frightening sometimes, but you and the others are always here so the fear fades fast.  If I was human I don't think I could help others as well.  Varric was afraid that as a spirit I would be stuck, stranded, never the same.  He wanted me to fit.  To match.”

“I'm glad you don't match,” Astlyr said, firmly.

She saw a flash of his teeth in the dark, “I am too.  It's better not to be the same.  And Varric was wrong.  Spirits can change.”

“They can?” Astlyr tilted her head.

“Yes.  I learned.  I finally learned what has been happening to me.”

“You have!” Astlyr felt her whole being lighten.  “Cole, that's great!  How?  What did you find out?”

“I wanted to show you.  We have to go into the Fade.” The boy sat down, pulling her arm with him.  He might have jerked her shoulder had she not quickly folded her legs to plop down beside him.  It was a little jarring for her spine, but she ignored this, a warm joy rushing through her.  Had Cole really found the answer?  Could they truly be close to finding out what had been confusing her spirit friend so much for the past month.  He finally let her hand go and it felt strange to be free of it, though it had left a chill in her fingers.  “Can you fall asleep?” he asked.

“I can try,” Astlyr said, resting her back against the wall.  Falling asleep was not as easy as she might have liked.  Her mind was buzzing.  Busily wondering what discovery Cole might have made.  Quieting her racing thoughts had always been a challenge for her, but now it was particularly difficult.  

Then she felt Cole reach across to her and touch her wrist, delicately.  “Forget,”

She felt the busyness fade, “what did you take?” she asked, urgently.

“There were butterflies loose in your mind.  I put them in a net.  They're still there, but captured, corralled so you can concentrate.  Was that alright?” he asked as though it had only just occurred to him that his interference might not have been welcome.

“No, that's alright, Cole.  Just please ask next time.”  Astlyr felt his fingers lift from her skin and she settled back against the wall.  Whatever Cole had done it made her mind easier.  She managed to drift off, though she idly wondered if it might not have been simpler to open a rift and step into the Fade in person.

~~~~~

The Fade temple was as beautiful as she remembered.  The living pillars stretched towards an unseen ceiling.  Astyr looked about herself, wondering if she might see the memories walking around, as she had the last time.  Instead she saw only Cole, in his Fade form.  He smiled at her and she felt a rush of physical warmth.  “Alright, what did you want to show me?” she asked.

“She will show you,” Cole pointed upwards.  The golden spider spirit peered down at them with her many eyes.  She was sitting in a corner of her massive, glittering web, her long legs spread around her.  Carefully the spirit crept down the web, never taking her eery gaze from Astlyr.  “She was hoping you would come back,” Cole said, smiling up at the creature.

“Was she?” Astlyr raised an eyebrow, uneasy.  “Why?  Why would she come to me, or you for that matter?  I understand why she might come to Fen'Harel.  He's a god and a known friend to spirits.”

“She felt us.  You have the anchor, you glow, and I am...more.”

“More?” Astlyr watched the boy, so alive and vibrant in the Fade-light.

“Please show her what you showed me,” Cole requested of the golden spider.  “She keeps all the memories, the history of Skyhold.  She has been here, watching, learning, peering through the veil.”

The spider carefully selected one of the golden threads of her web and plucked it with a skillful motion.  As the thread vibrated, the world before Astlyr's eyes swam like water disturbed by a pebble.  It made her a little nauseated as everything wavered and spun.  She blinked and felt a jab of pain in her hand.  She glanced down at it.  At least her body seemed intact, no sign of her own image rippling with the fade magic, even as it pulsed over her again and again.  She saw the glow of green on her palm and tried to ignore the sting.

Finally the world settled, but to her surprise she and Cole no longer stood in the towering temple.  Instead they seemed to have transported to a mountaintop in summer, lightly dusted with snow.  Everything still had a pervasive greenish hue which did not seem wholly natural so Astlyr knew they were still in the Fade.  She glanced around.  Above them the spider seemed to settle on a now invisible web.  She watched with her many, unblinking eyes.  There was no hostility in her posture so Astlyr turned her attention back to the new locale.  “What is this place?” she asked peering around.  Her eyes caught on a peak not far off.  It looked extremely familiar, like a mountaintop she could see from her bedroom.

“We're at Skyhold,” said Cole, moving about, investigating a rock or two, touching some moss growing under the thin sheen of freshly settled snow.  “Skyhold before it was Skyhold.  Before it had a name, I think.”

“We're in the past?”

“We're in the Fade.”

Astlyr clucked her tongue with some annoyance but decided not to question further.  It was obvious she would get no answers from the silent spider spirit and what she could gather from Cole would be cryptic at best.  “The last time we visited this spirit she showed us the little girl marking the map to the foci,” Astlyr was struck by a sudden thought.  Had the elvish child in the spider's memory been Fen'Harel himself?  Hiding in an inconspicuous form so he could leave himself a map for later?  She turned to the spider, wondering if it could at least nod or shake its head.  Before she could speak a sound caught her attention.  A rolling, uneven laugh.  The laugh of a child.

Soon the laughter was joined by more and before Astlyr's eyes a whole gang of elvish children came scampering over a rise.  They talked loudly and shrieked with pleasure, obviously having a lovely time.  They appeared to range in age from about six to perhaps sixteen, if she was any judge of ancient elvish ages.  She stepped a bit nearer and it was obvious none of the children saw her or Cole, who had crouched on a rock, watching the scene with rapt interest.  Astlyr studied the happy group further and noticed that a thin string of magic seemed to run between the younger ones, looping around each waist, then leading back to another person, who had just come into view.  An elvish man, tall and placid.  He had dark hair with a hint of silver, which Astlyr was not entirely certain was caused by age.  His face was angular, dignified and intelligent looking.  He had the air of a scholar.  She noted, as she watched the man, that he was of average height for a human male.

The magical string, which held the little ones like flower stems, led back to the top of the staff the man carried.  Once the group had achieved the flat summit the elder tapped his staff once and the magical strings dissipated.  He spoke to the children in a stern tone and Astlyr was surprised that she could understand him.  “Alright everyone, please spread your cloaks and sit down.  The lesson will begin as soon as you are settled.  Should any of you misbehave and wander off I will place the safety bindings back on all of you.”  His tone was warning and a general groan went up from the group, but the children complied.

“They speak common?” Astlyr questioned.  “I thought this was a very old memory.”

“It is,” said Cole, sitting down on his rock as though obeying the teacher's instruction himself.  “The spirit makes it so we can understand.  She wants you to know.”

“Know what?” Astlyr watched as the children found spots to sit, with varying degrees of haste.  One young lad with red hair in tight curls seemed intent on seeing how far he could get from the group without being admonished.  A stern look from the teacher finally sent the the youngster hurrying to find a spot.

The older children sat together, giving annoyed and disdainful looks to the younger, though they made no verbal complaint.  Astlyr noticed that a few of the teens wore staffs across their shoulders, obviously mages.

“Watch,” urged Cole, in answer to her question.  He had an almost gleeful expression on his face.  Astlyr could safely say she had never seen the boy looking so pleased, not even in their recent visits to the Fade.  Astlyr resigned herself and went to sit on the ground beside Cole's rock.  She curled her legs to sit in the lotus position, as some of the children were doing.

“Alright children, may I have you focus please?  Yes? Liliwen, please put down that snowball, there's a good girl.  Alright?  Everyone focusing?”

“Yes, sir,” the group managed to chorus.

“Excellent.  Alright, can anyone tell me why I have brought you all up here?” the teacher asked, smiling pleasantly at his array of students.

“Because you want us to be cold?” asked a little girl, with a  cheeky expression.

“Because the veil is thin here?” a boy of about eight years answered, giving the little girl a baleful look.

“Yes!  Very good, Andras.  I'm certain you sensed it didn't you?  Because you're a mage,” the teacher beamed.

“He's a mage?” Astlyr raised an eyebrow.  The boy was not wearing a staff as some of the older children were.  “I thought people didn't come into their magic until they were older.”  As she studied the children she noticed several others nodding along.  Did they all have magic so young?  Was this common in elvish children of the time?  She sat forward, intrigued already.

“Those of you who do not possess magic, perhaps you can smell it, or feel the slight difference in the thickness of the air?”

“I can,” said a little girl, clearly proud.  “It smells like ashes.”

“No it doesn't,” retorted a boy, “it smells like fresh onion grass.”

“Now now, it smells a bit differently to everyone, but now that you have a feel of it you'll know what to be aware of in your daily lives.”  He spread his arms for emphasis.  “But you all know that finding where the veil is thinnest is not the lesson today.  We can easily study the veil at home.  Why would it be important to go to a place where the veil is thin?”

Many hands shot up and the younger children squirmed with obvious eagerness.  Some bounced, trying to get their hands the highest.  Their teacher laughed and pointed to the red haired boy who shouted gleefully, “spirit friends!”

“You are correct!  We are here to meet with our spirit friends and learn more about them!  Do you all remember my spirit Companion?”

“Mercy!  Yes!  We love her!” the children cheered.

The teacher made a gesture in the air.  A simple twist of his hand and suddenly a bright shape materialized beside him.  At first it merely had a vague shape, appearing as a reddish mist.  Slowly it took on the form of a woman, gaining definition.  Soon a female elf stood beside the teacher.  She smiled warmly and blinked pale blue eyes, folding her hands politely before her as she greeted them, “hello children.”

“Hello Mercy!” they called, obviously delighted.  Even the older children were smiling.

The teacher had a bit of difficulty getting their attention focused back on him.  As he attempted to restore order Astlyr glanced at Cole.  His eyes were wide and bright, taking in everything.  He noticed Astlyr's attention and smiled at her.  “Look how much form she has!  She's like me!”

Astlyr had to admit that the woman standing beside the teacher appeared to have as much substance as anyone there.  “She's a spirit?”

“Yes,” Cole beamed.

The teacher had regained control, gesturing for the class to settle, “Now, now children, before we call on our own spirit friends, can anyone tell me the difference between a spirit friend and a Spirit Companion?”

This seemed to give the children more pause.  No one looked eager to raise their hands this time.  The woman, Mercy, gave them all a reassuring smile.  “It's alright,” she said, her voice gentle.  It reminded Astlyr of her own mother's voice somehow.  “That is what we are here to learn.”

“All of you children have recently found your very own spirit friend.  A certain spirit who desires to get to know you, to spend time with you.  Not many people are so lucky as to be chosen as a friend to a spirit.  That is why you are all here, because you are all special in this regard.  One day,  if you and that spirit decide to remain together, it will become bound to you as your Spirit Companion.”

“But binding spirits is wrong!” said one of the younger girls, wrinkling her nose.  “Mages mustn't do that, my mother says so!”

“It's not that type of binding,” Mercy reassured the group.  “When a spirit becomes your Companion he or she changes and becomes more a part of this world.  They can still travel freely to the Fade, but now they prefer to stay here, with their elvhen Companion.  Once we have chosen to bind ourselves to an individual we are joined forever.  One will never be without the other, even when we seem far apart.”

“This is a rare, and very precious gift,” said the teacher, nodding sagely.  “Of the children who have gathered here, perhaps only ten of you, or even fewer, will remain with your spirit until Companionship is attained.”

Astlyr caught her breath.  Now she understood why Cole was excited.  “This change can be a frightening time for your spirit friend,” the teacher went on, “and you must practice kindness and understanding.  A spirit must change part of what they are.  They must become more.  When Mercy first came to me, mercy is all she was.  She found me one day when I was being punished by my father.  She felt sorry for me and she spoke to me.  Most spirit friends seek out a quality or situation that speaks to what they are. Mercy and I became friends, and eventually she decided to become my Companion.  She became greater than merely mercy.  She is more whole, more able to understand our world.”

“Is she elvhen?”  asked a dark haired boy of perhaps ten years. who had drawn nearer to his instructor, obviously intrigued.

“She will never be elvhen.  She is a spirit, but now she is a being of two worlds.” the teacher explained.

“Can we be of two worlds?” the boy pressed, scooting so far forward his knees bumped the child in front of him.

“We have not yet found a way to allow elvhen to move as easily between the Fade and this world as we do,” said Mercy.  “Certainly your mages have a simpler time of it, but it is not the same.”

“We're getting off topic,” said the teacher.  “Everyone, would you please call your spirit friends.”

Each child moved to do as they were bidden and Astlyr watched, deeply intrigued.  Most of the children with magic seemed to use a spell to call on their spirit friend, while others whistled, or shouted. One little girl just waved her hands about in the air as though trying to get someone to throw a ball to her.  Then, all around them, little points of light appeared.  Some slowly took various forms, while others remained merely wisps.  Astlyr noticed that some of the little spirits took the form of animals, while others imitated the children themselves.

“This is amazing,” Astlyr breathed.

“I know,” Cole fairly cheered, rocking back so far she thought he might topple from his perch.  “Do you understand this, Astlyr?  Do you know what this means?!”  He stopped rocking and joined her on the ground, and expression of pure joy on his face.  “I'm your Spirit Companion!”

“Mine?”

“Yes!  I must be!  I chose you, I choose you!” he grabbed her hands and she was startled by their warmth.  “That's why I've been changing.  I'm not becoming more human, I'm becoming more.  Becoming more you, becoming more us!”

“Can this even happen with a qunari?” she asked, skeptical.  Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of the children playing with their spirits.  The teacher was going to have even more trouble gathering them all back together this time.

“It must be able to, because it happened,” said Cole, certain.  “I was afraid, just like he said, and now I'm not compassion any more.  I'm Cole.  Not dead Cole, not spirit Cole.  I'm fully me.”

Astlyr wasn't certain how to react, but she decided a hug was best.  She reached forward and enveloped her friend in her arms.  “Thank you Cole, for choosing me,” she said.

“I'm glad I found you.  Glad I found this. It took a long time, but I found it.” Cole rested his head against her shoulder.  He shifted so he was leaning against her and looking out at the cavorting children and spirits.

The dark haired boy had his hand up again, seemingly ignoring the relative chaos around him.  His spirit friend had taken the form of a lizard and squatted at his side, occasionally hissing in annoyance at the frivolity of anyone who came too near.  It tucked up its legs in clear disgust and nestled closer to the boy.  “Is there any way, maybe with magic, to bring a spirit and person even closer?  Perhaps then we could go into the Fade more easily.”

“Well, as you know some spirits will go inside elvhen hosts, but this is dangerous-”  Mercy had teleported nearer to the boy so he could better hear her answers.  “It is not the same as having a Spirit Companion.”

“That is dangerous because the elvehn can corrupt the spirit, or sometimes the other way around.” the child filled in, looking a bit smug at his own intelligence.  “But that's because the person and spirit aren't fully joined.  They're still two beings, just inside one host, unless one takes over the other and that still doesn't solve my problem.”

“Your problem?” Mercy chuckled, not unkindly.  “Well,” she bent down, a placid expression on her face. “Perhaps you will be the one to discover a way.”

“Maybe I will,” the boy said, already looking determined.

Astlyr turned back to Cole, who was watching with a pleased expression.  She had never seen him so contented.  It was like the first brush of spring air on your face after a long winter.  Her heart gave a little flutter as she dared to ask, “Are you still angry with me, Cole, for what I decided to do with those mages?”

“I was angry,” Cole said, as though realizing this for the first time.  “I'm not any longer.  I think I understand now.  I can be angry with you sometimes and disagree with you and you won't fade and I won't fade.  We're still us, always.  The pieces are held together now.  Whole.  You make me better.”

Astlyr beamed, letting the lightness of the joy her friend clearly felt wash over her.  There would be time to think of troubles later.  For now she and Cole had finally made a discovery about him.  He continued to lean into her, watching the children and their spirits, listening to their chatter.  His head was warm where it rested against her shoulder and his hair smelled pleasantly of sweet hay.

She pondered briefly if she was worthy of this.  She bore the anchor mark on her hand, but according to Fen'Harel it was not elvish, so perhaps it had nothing to do with befriending a spirit.  Clearly, as no one had seemingly even heard of this 'Companionship' occurrence in her time, the practice had long since faded.  Perhaps the presence of humanity had stamped out the last of those who could befriend such creatures as Cole or Mercy.  And she was qunari.  About as far from being an elf as one could get and still have pointy ears.  She was no mage, and she was no elf, yet here she sat in the Fade with the seeming oddity that was Cole, learning that she had been chosen by him for something that had not happened in who knew how long.  She fought back her confused feelings of unworthiness for his sake if no one else's.  She didn't want him to sense her confusion on this subject.

Then a new thought came to her. “Do you suppose Fen'Harel knew about this and didn't tell us?  He would have known, wouldn't he?”

Cole looked up at her tilting his chin and raising his brows, “I don't think he knew.  There are still bits missing and the spirit parts are the worst.  Moths biting away his remembrances.”

“Hmm,” Astlyr mused, wondering why this would be. She decided to let the thought go.  She could afford herself a few more blissful moments.  She had to admit that she never would have thought a good time could be had in the Fade.  Nothing was attacking her.  No demons were trying to manipulate or possess her.  Cole nestled comfortably in her arms and she thought that perhaps this Fade business wasn't all bad.