[He finds her, not long after their escape from the Fade. She'll have questions, he expects — he wants to answer them, before too much time has passed.
He appears just outside her field of vision, crouched, his eyes trained on the ground.]
Passing nods in the Circle corridors. A name tied to a reputation, tied faintly to a face.
[ She does not start, but it is a very near thing. Only Compassion's reminder that here she is safe, that it is only Cole keeps her from twitching at his abrupt arrival and spattering ink on her notes. With care she sits back and turns to face him properly. ]
I knew that they were demons. Just as I know you are not, but- yes. I knew him, somewhat.
[ Evangeline- the name is distantly familiar, less so than Rhys'; Templars and Seekers may have been present in the Spire in some way or another for the entirety of her life there, but only a few she found truly memorable.
It simply...wasn't something that required her attention. ]
What happened? [ She knows how it ended for her- blood in the halls, a gauntlet around her throat, a terrified scramble to get as many out safely as possible but- in the camps and aftermath there'd been murmurs of those left behind. ]
[He hasn't hesitated to speak of this with others — with Cassandra, or Anders — when it's come up. He only regrets what he didn't do, because there wasn't time, or because there was so much, then, that he didn't understand.
The pause lasts no longer than a heartbeat.]
When Rhys found me, I didn't know what I was. He didn't, either, but he was always kind. He wanted to help. He just didn't know how.
People were dying. Unseen and forgotten, until they were found. Rhys was the only one who could see me, so they thought it was him. If his mother hadn't come, he would've been killed, too.
I followed them. They went out west, and came back. The Lord Seeker still didn't like what they were doing, so he tried to stop them. That's the part you remember.
[ The murders- what started a great deal of the unrest- that mages were dying, that they were bled dry. Accusations of blood magic, students afraid, templars ready to snap out of fear or anger or needing an excuse for all this time and finally being given one...
As ever, when Adelaide recalls those terrified months she goes quiet, eyes dark and focused on Cole. Rhys had been accused- that was a rumor. Too much had been done without enough of it being explained but-
He'd been accused, this is true. Cole is not one to lie. Cole who is so kind and so terrifyingly efficient with a knife. Chill creeps along her spine as she asks, quietly. ]
...The supposed cure for Tranquility. The vote. The murders stopped while they were away. Cole- did you...?
I didn't know what I was. [Again. This is the part that makes him nervous. He can't make anyone understand, no matter how much they deserve to know. He could make it so she doesn't remember the conversation, but he doesn't want to.
He wants to have friends. Real friends. That means they have to know, even if they hate him for it.]
They were calling out. Couldn't stand the pain. Mages made into monsters in the Templars' eyes. When they saw me, I knew that I could help them.
I don't do that anymore. [Not, at least, unless circumstances are significantly more dire. Certainly not to assert his own existence.]
Rhys and Evangeline showed me I could be something else.
[ Compassion. A spirit of Compassion bid to end pain-
Her and hers do it through healing but such deep despair in the Spire and she had never known. Too buried in her research, in her students, in her work to notice until the blood was already on the floor. Guilt that has ever been distant doubles over and slips in like a knife; those deaths, those fears, and no one else knew to look for them.
No one else cared. ]
They asked for it.
[ Freedom in the one way possible down there and- had she not come to terms with Robert and his choice after a time? Could she begrudge frightened, pained mages something similar? ]
You- you thought it was what you were meant to do, yes? [ Quietly, carefully- she extends a hand to Cole. ]
[ When discussing spirits, when teaching how to speak to them, think of them, work with them- real is...relative. Something she'd told her students then often. Something to keep in mind now. ]
Is that how you are the way you are? Not quite a Spirit but...something more?
[His fingers curl against hers, softly. He gives one bobbing nod.]
He was a mage. The first one I tried to save, but I couldn't do anything for him from the Fade. I slipped through, and he gave me a shape. Cole as he wished he could be. Someone who could help.
[ Things are more confusing on this side of the veil for spirits- but a plea like that would be difficult to ignore. How he managed to come across and no be twisted into something else entirely... ]
[ It...makes some sort of twisted sense- him with his knife, those that died. Those so afraid of what was to come, of what was happening to them, what might happen to them. Fear from ignorance or fear from danger.
When death is a preferable alternative the Circles had failed.
If she has any say in it, they shall not again. ]
You did all you could. No one can ask more of you than that.
[He's listening as closely as he can to her reaction, the emotions and memories this brings up, the ways in which he might still connect now that he's said what he had to say.]
So did you. You still are. Turned toward you, they are less afraid.
[ The Spire is more and more distant every day. The ache is less biting, the memory of blood less jarring- all that fear and helpless anger simmers still but is curtailed by the good she's managed here-
And the thought she'd had to possibly returning. There were records, books, resources that might yet remain. Reason enough to try to return. ]
You are helping as well, in your own way. Turnips in the hearth, spiderwebs for the healers. Little things. [ little, strange things she's heard. ] That is you, yes?
[ It should probably be disconcerting- that he wishes to linger for her memories, that he can hear them or feel them- but in Cole there is much that reminds her of Compassion for so many reasons.
It is difficult to explain why she is so unafraid and thus, she never truly attempts to do so. ]
[It's true, Rhys had never been hated by many that Cole could tell... although the suspicions which had sprung up around him hadn't helped his favorability. Cole knows he's to blame for that.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Action, Post-Fade
He appears just outside her field of vision, crouched, his eyes trained on the ground.]
Passing nods in the Circle corridors. A name tied to a reputation, tied faintly to a face.
You knew his face.
Action, Post-Fade
[ She does not start, but it is a very near thing. Only Compassion's reminder that here she is safe, that it is only Cole keeps her from twitching at his abrupt arrival and spattering ink on her notes. With care she sits back and turns to face him properly. ]
I knew that they were demons. Just as I know you are not, but- yes. I knew him, somewhat.
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[A note of regret in how he says it, a hard truth that he wishes wasn't.]
I couldn't help them. I tried, but it wasn't enough.
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It simply...wasn't something that required her attention. ]
What happened? [ She knows how it ended for her- blood in the halls, a gauntlet around her throat, a terrified scramble to get as many out safely as possible but- in the camps and aftermath there'd been murmurs of those left behind. ]
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The pause lasts no longer than a heartbeat.]
When Rhys found me, I didn't know what I was. He didn't, either, but he was always kind. He wanted to help. He just didn't know how.
People were dying. Unseen and forgotten, until they were found. Rhys was the only one who could see me, so they thought it was him. If his mother hadn't come, he would've been killed, too.
I followed them. They went out west, and came back. The Lord Seeker still didn't like what they were doing, so he tried to stop them. That's the part you remember.
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As ever, when Adelaide recalls those terrified months she goes quiet, eyes dark and focused on Cole. Rhys had been accused- that was a rumor. Too much had been done without enough of it being explained but-
He'd been accused, this is true. Cole is not one to lie. Cole who is so kind and so terrifyingly efficient with a knife. Chill creeps along her spine as she asks, quietly. ]
...The supposed cure for Tranquility. The vote. The murders stopped while they were away. Cole- did you...?
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He wants to have friends. Real friends. That means they have to know, even if they hate him for it.]
They were calling out. Couldn't stand the pain. Mages made into monsters in the Templars' eyes. When they saw me, I knew that I could help them.
I don't do that anymore. [Not, at least, unless circumstances are significantly more dire. Certainly not to assert his own existence.]
Rhys and Evangeline showed me I could be something else.
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Her and hers do it through healing but such deep despair in the Spire and she had never known. Too buried in her research, in her students, in her work to notice until the blood was already on the floor. Guilt that has ever been distant doubles over and slips in like a knife; those deaths, those fears, and no one else knew to look for them.
No one else cared. ]
They asked for it.
[ Freedom in the one way possible down there and- had she not come to terms with Robert and his choice after a time? Could she begrudge frightened, pained mages something similar? ]
You- you thought it was what you were meant to do, yes? [ Quietly, carefully- she extends a hand to Cole. ]
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[He looks up far enough to see the hand. Instead of taking it, he reaches out and brushes his fingertips against her palm.]
I thought I needed to, to know I was real. I didn't realize it was okay not to be.
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[ When discussing spirits, when teaching how to speak to them, think of them, work with them- real is...relative. Something she'd told her students then often. Something to keep in mind now. ]
Is that how you are the way you are? Not quite a Spirit but...something more?
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He was a mage. The first one I tried to save, but I couldn't do anything for him from the Fade. I slipped through, and he gave me a shape. Cole as he wished he could be. Someone who could help.
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[ Things are more confusing on this side of the veil for spirits- but a plea like that would be difficult to ignore. How he managed to come across and no be twisted into something else entirely... ]
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[He dares a brief glance up toward her face, but lowers his head again almost immediately.]
I'm sorry I couldn't do more. [For Rhys and Evangeline. For her. For any and all of them.]
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[ It...makes some sort of twisted sense- him with his knife, those that died. Those so afraid of what was to come, of what was happening to them, what might happen to them. Fear from ignorance or fear from danger.
When death is a preferable alternative the Circles had failed.
If she has any say in it, they shall not again. ]
You did all you could. No one can ask more of you than that.
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[He's listening as closely as he can to her reaction, the emotions and memories this brings up, the ways in which he might still connect now that he's said what he had to say.]
So did you. You still are. Turned toward you, they are less afraid.
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And the thought she'd had to possibly returning. There were records, books, resources that might yet remain. Reason enough to try to return. ]
You are helping as well, in your own way. Turnips in the hearth, spiderwebs for the healers. Little things. [ little, strange things she's heard. ] That is you, yes?
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[Yes, that was him. She understands the purpose of the spiderwebs, so he only opts to explain the turnips.]
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[ Just as good as a knife in a fight, these small kindnesses. ]
It's good of you, even if we do not always understand the why until later.
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[ She says with a smile, faintly amused. ]
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[And although he's said it once already, he's going to say it again:]
Thank you for understanding.
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[ This is what friends do for one another. ]
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[...]
Would you mind if I stayed, just for a little while? I like your memories of Rhys. They're small, but they're real. Not a lot of people knew him.
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[ It should probably be disconcerting- that he wishes to linger for her memories, that he can hear them or feel them- but in Cole there is much that reminds her of Compassion for so many reasons.
It is difficult to explain why she is so unafraid and thus, she never truly attempts to do so. ]
He was well liked, I know that for certain.
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[It's true, Rhys had never been hated by many that Cole could tell... although the suspicions which had sprung up around him hadn't helped his favorability. Cole knows he's to blame for that.]
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