WHO: Fenris, Jone, & YOU. WHAT: Fenris & Jone are back in Kirkwall. WHEN: When... people... are back in Kirkwall... waves hand. WHERE: KIRKWALL NOTES: None yet.
"A liability to whom?" She frowns. "To you?" Adrasteia shakes her head. "I have trouble imagining it. And I don't tell people I have magic because I don't consider it something that has shaped me. I spent years hiding it, out of fear of being forced into a Circle, and then I became a Warden where it didn't matter as much. I got to learn what I'm capable of."
Fenris listens placidly. He doesn't seem particularly impressed. "A liability to everyone you come in contact with. Your failure to take responsibility is telling. It always matters."
"How..." She takes a breath, and holds up her hand. "Nevermind, I'm not sure it matters. You believe it to be true, and that's enough. If I had known how important it was to know I possessed magic, I would have told you. I'm sorry I didn't."
Fenris nods, accepting this. It's not an excuse or an apology. It's an acknowledgement, and those are rare and precious. "What magic do you practice?" He says, "I will know if you lie."
"I'm very good at fire magic but I've taken the time to learn some spirit as well, primarily for healing." She is, often, in the infirmary after all. "I'm not good at ice magic, or blood magic, for that matter."
She shakes her head, once. "I've fallen victim to it once or twice. Mostly near Perendale, when there were a lot of Wardens falling to Corypheus' army, changing sides, in the early part of the war."
"Then you are somewhat familiar with its dangers. It is nothing to take lightly." He does not for a moment consider it silly, a non-mage lecturing a mage on the uses of magic. His experience, in his mind, trumps all. "What spirits do you commune with?"
Fenris nods. "Spirits are duplicitous. They quickly become demons. The man who destroyed Kirkwall's Chantry worked in concert with a spirit of Justice."
Adrasteia takes in a breath. "I'm sorry." That can't have been easy, by any measure. She has complicated feeling about the Warden that did those things, but she doesn't actually know the man.
Maker save her from this man's short temper. "I was not under the impression that there was a pitiable bone within your body. That is not the only thing that an apology can mean.
I'm aware that I'm a risk. I don't consort with spirits lightly. I use them to help me heal others and then I am done; I don't seek out the same manifestation more than once. I know that possession is a risk. I didn't have to be in a Circle for that. All Wardens, every last one of us who was at Adamant knows the risk. I'm not a fool."
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She's not lying.
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"I do the best with Compassion and Faith. Hope and Justice with some work. Valor is more of a struggle for me."
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Or, once, it had been.
"I knew him."
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I'm aware that I'm a risk. I don't consort with spirits lightly. I use them to help me heal others and then I am done; I don't seek out the same manifestation more than once. I know that possession is a risk. I didn't have to be in a Circle for that. All Wardens, every last one of us who was at Adamant knows the risk. I'm not a fool."
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"I will make it swift," he says, "if you fall."
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She has never been interested in a slow death.