faderift | [Open]

WHO: Vasran and OPEN
WHAT: Celebrating being declared a Real Mage, training with her very own staff
WHEN: Late August
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: N/A

In the end, the pseudo-Harrowing endorsed by the Mage Council had turned out to be just like dreaming. Vasran had been prepared for what she was about to face, as well as one could be prepared. To walk in the Fade was to know that nothing could be trusted except one's own mind. And it was the mind that was truly important, because demons could trick the eyes, could distract the senses, could so easily toy with emotions. Logic and will, two things which were so simple and yet so difficult to wield effectively, were the only things that could be counted on.

It was a Desire demon that had tried to take her, offering her comfort and wealth and position enough to take whatever she wanted from a world where everything had once been lost to her. Of all things, it was Vasran's pride that allowed her to refuse the demon's offer.

She would take what she got back from the world on her own terms, and no one else's.

The day after she woke again, she celebrated in the Tavern, a place where she had rarely been seen before, dancing and tossing back as many cups of wine as she could afford — or convince others to pay for. As the evening went on, she got bolder, approaching a few people head-on with her empty cup and shoving it toward them.

"Buy a drink for a demon-slayer!"

In the days after — once the subsequent hangover had subsided — she could be found on the Training Grounds, drilling battle techniques with her staff, sending bursts of electrical energy toward the targets.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It wasn't Cullen who noticed her first. It was actually Puppy. He came over, the ever expanding bulk of him surprisingly light on his massive feet. He picked a spot near the edge of her range of destruction and sat back on his haunches, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted, head tilted in a deceptively human gesture of attention.

It took a good ten minutes for Cullen to notice the absence, another few to find his hound, and when he did, rather than calling him away or interrupting Vasran, he stood beside the mabari, watching with the same focus and attention. It hadn't taken him long to discover than anything Puppy was willing to devote his attention to was something worth noticing. So he tried to see what his dog saw.

When Vasran first noticed the hound, she merely paused in her target practice, looking to confirm that he was, in fact, watching her.

"Come for a rematch?" she asked lightly. Her own answer to that was to continue shooting electrical volleys at the target, watching the edges of it gradually singe.

She nearly forgot the mabari was there until another several minutes had passed, and when she turned to see whether he was there still, she started a little, her spine straightening.

The Commander was watching.

"Oh, don't stop on my account." He could place the face from the snowball fight, one of the unfortunate souls that Puppy had decided to make the focus of his eager attempts to get all the flags ever for his person.

She seemed very focused. Maybe a little angry. He could understand that. They were all a little angry, some just hid it better than others. "Something on your mind?" It was entirely possible that it was nothing, that she had simply reached that enviable point in life of being able to devote all of her attention to a task at hand without some deeper issue fueling the fire.

Not long ago, Vasran might have been more angry than focused. Of late, her anger had become more of a tool. She knew how to be angry, how to let it fuel and hone her fire, even when there was nothing in particular to be angry about.

"The staff is new, Ser," she said, weighing it in her hands a little. She'd been doing that a lot when she wasn't casting, working toward a place where it felt no different from an extension of her body. "I've been eager to get accustomed to it — wouldn't do to be fumbling on the battlefield."

"Certainly not. You have exceptional aim." A little whuff of agreement from near his knee, and he chuckled. "Puppy agrees."

Still, he watched enough to have a suggestion. "If I may? Try taking deeper breaths. Much deeper." Meditative, almost, but he didn't outright say so. Tension in the frame didn't do much good when one was wielding a staff, not a sword.

"Yes, Ser," she said with a nod, though the look in her eyes would show she only half-understood, and the gears were turning to get her the rest of the way there. She had practiced magic long enough without a staff to have a near-instinctive sense of what to do with her breath. The staff changed things, since the magic was no longer coming entirely from her. She hadn't noticed herself holding her breath, but perhaps...

She fired off a couple more shots, and — oh. She was holding her breath. Vasran pressed her lips together as she adjusted mentally, and took another deep breath. On her next volly, she concentrated on letting it out in a smooth, hard release, the same as she would if she were shooting fire from her fingertips.

It felt much more seamless. However, the shot went wide, missing the target and striking the wall to the right of it.

"It's the relaxed muscles in your back and chest. You'll have to get used to the difference in the weight versus tension... it gets easier. Big improvement in stamina, too." He's not trying to tell her what to do but... that's part of his job. Not so much with mages, but in general. He's got a lot of experience with how moving bodies work, what helps and what hinders, and the best way to walk away from a battlefield.

"Thank you, Ser." She made no effort to tamp down the swell of pride she felt at having drawn his attention in the first place. She did try to stop herself from letting her smile get too broad.

"I'm learning to use the staff itself as a weapon, as well. In case any assassins should try to get the jump on me."

A little hint of swagger in that last statement, perhaps. But Adelaide had told her to be bold.

"That's very wise." A sentiment he'd been kicking over with Zevran. Mages relying solely on magic, soldiers on a frontal assault, rogues on trickery. It was short-sighted. "We must be prepared for anything. Complacency will destroy us." She was not complacent, though, and he could appreciate that. "How long have you been training with the staff?" He meant as a weapon, as per the new direction of the conversation.

[Open]

training, cause where else would one find Cullen?

but of course!

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