#sunstroke

They tie her up against the parapet, away from the others, exposed to the elements. 

In it's early days, she couldn’t resist the whispers of a newly formed collective. Theorists and arcane philosophy - acolytes discussing the promise of a better way. Meetings to discuss opportunity. 

Found out by the Templars, because of course. Here at the Circle, curiosity and knowledge be damned. Tell us of the acolytes, they asked so kindly. They'll lead you to ruin; save your everlasting soul and confess.

Rhian said nothing. No man had a say over her everlasting soul, certainly not ones as terrible as these. And If they were asking, they knew nothing but hearsay and rumours. Their entreating words, their nurturing help, all of it turns cruel as she stays silent. Their sweetness became ash and rot.

So, they tie her to the roof of the tower, and hang a waterskin just out of reach. A drink for a name. A sip of clean water to slake her thirst. Only if she betrays her fellow mage.

It's the second day when she realizes they have no true interest in the collective. They antagonize her over and over for one name.

Asha of Wycome.

Asha, Asha, Asha - she holds too much influence over the younger mages, naturally this means a nefarious plot is afoot. Has dear sweet Asha manipulated you? One word and we'll take care of her. They need a reason. She's nobility, and her family has wealth and influence. Harder to make that sort of mage disappear without cause. Just one word and this is over. You’re thirsty, save yourself.

Rhian says nothing, knows nothing. She lays there under a scorching summer sun, feeling it boil and bake her skin and finally lets the ugliness inside. Would they accept any mage's name? There’s Victor who leers at the younger ones. Cere, who forces initiates to give her their food and drink. Tabitha, a stooge of the Templars. The ones doling out punishment, they salivate for morsels of information, would their jaws snap shut around whatever she offers?

It’s a theory she isn’t given time to test.

At the end of the second day, her skin is raw and peeling, she’s dried out, the sun’s stolen any drop of moisture. Without an explanation, a young templar kneels next to her and frees her from the manacles binding her hands, her feet.  

Go, go. He whispers.

Rhian stumbles down winding stairs and corridors, her limbs buckle underneath her weight and still she drags herself onward. She’s turned around, lost in the tower she calls home. 

Strains of the chant reach her ears, and in her feverish state her lips form the words of the canticle. 

She follows it to the Great Hall. 

Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him. Foul and corrupt are they Who have taken His gift And turned it against His children.

Her fingers claw across the rough limestone, the tender skin cuts and scrapes, her nails chip. She digs her hands into the carved ridges of Andraste’s feet, but no amount of reverence mends her; wretched among souls. Prostrated before the blessed mother, prophet, warrior, she hides her face from its towering shrine. 

“Am I not also your child!” 

The chant of light pauses, and a sob catches in her throat. No pity is given to her ecclesiastical suffering. The chanters resume with greater volume. 

They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones. They shall find no rest in this world Or beyond.

She presses her head to the base of the statute and wails, staining it with bloody hands. 

Whispers and shadows swirl around her, and no one approaches, no one dares interfere. Until there at her side, she spots the dark green and gold hem of Asha’s robes.

“Darling,” she breathes. She remains prostrate before the statue. “Rhian, let's go. We don’t want any more attention.”

She pushes herself up with shaking arms, letting Asha pull her the rest of the way. The other woman clicks her tongue and rests the back of hand gently against Rhian’s burning forehead. “Let’s get you in bed. We’ll get a healing salve for you, maybe some of the initiates can help with an ice spell, how does that sound?”

“Yes…” She trails off, trying to remember…a thing…something? Something important. Needs to warn Asha, she needs to know how close they're watching.