#indoctrinations

The Fade was as lonely as ever. Shadows and smoke all around and ahead the Black City, familiar as his crippled wrists.

All around him were flickers of speech, fragments of thought and the will of many dreamers. Curious; he'd never heard them so vividly before.

Saarebas wondered why he could see so clearly in the dream-world. Where were his bonds? His mask?

Corruption. The only explanation. A wildness seized at the Qunari's heart, forcing him to hide his face in his hands. It couldn't be true, he'd never fully break-

No - he was Ketojan now. He was not corrupt; the Qun would not take him because he hadn't yet failed. It was the only explanation, he was in the Fade because of Maraas, Maraas had saved him and Ketojan was still in Kirkwall. Still in the Hanged Man. He was unbound, but not broken. Ketojan, not Saarebas. Not only Saarebas.

"You are back, Qunari," something terrible spoke in the shadows. Ketojan recoiled at the molten heat bubbling under his feet. In the dim light of the Fade a brilliant, awful creature rose like a god in front of him, back bowed and arms clawed with hate.

Ketojan knew it. "Rage."

"You remember me then?" the Demon chuckled, creeping closer with disturbing liquidity. The fires were scorching but Ketojan felt no pain, only an overwhelming sense of wrongness.

"I remember nothing," Ketojan frowned, narrowing his eyes at the bright figure. He truly didn't recall anything of this Demon, only the name. No Saarebas had to be taught such things. "Away with you! I have no need of your powers, Rage. I did not call you."

"Incorrect, but unsurprising, Saarebas. Your very existence has brought me here. Such is your nature, mage."

"Leave. I do not want you," Ketojan protested. Those poisonous flames were much too close, making him feel sick and weak.

"Also incorrect. Whether or not you realize, or remember, I know the truth."

"You lie," he hissed. The Qunari struggled willfully, driving the creature back thought by strenuous thought. When Rage finally yielded, it was with a long laugh.

"Such is my nature," the Demon chuckled. The heat was unbearable, though the Demon did not press forward. "But soon-"

Ketojan awoke, panting heavily, his whole frame soaked in sweat. It was morning. The Fade had not consumed him; corruption remained only a distant fear to the young Saarebas. The world had definition again and there were no voices. Only clear light and sea breeze. Almost like home.

"Maraas?" he asked through chapped lips and sore teeth; had he clenched them all night? The divits in his palms spoke to clenched fingers, at the very least. Perhaps this was why the Arvaarad bound him, even in sleep.