On a cliff overlooking the dark waters of Lake Calenhad stands the tower fortress that is home to the Circle of Magi. This tower is the only place in Fereleden were mages may study their art among others of their kind. Within the high stone walls, the Circle practices it's magic and trains apprentices the proper use of their powers. But the Circle tower is as much a prison as a refuge.

The ever vigilant templars of the Chantry watch over all mages; constantly alert for any signs of corruption. This gilded cage is the only world she knows. Found to be sensitive to magic at a young age, Fiona Amell was torn from her family and grafted here as an apprentice. Now that apprenticeship is nearly over. All that remains is the final test: The Harrowing.

"Awake, Mage." A burly voice disrupted me from my sleep. I stirred a bit. The voice was bouncing over every object in the Fade. The trees bent and swayed to every vibrato of the voice. It spoke again, this time I felt a devastating blow to my shoulder. The fade melted away and was replaced with the cold, dark atmosphere of the Apprentice Quarters. The wood frame of the bed above me seemed to flare with fuzzy images. I shook my head once and looked over to my side.

Two templars stood over me. They seemed to be very impatient, or as far as I could tell. Bless the Maker these templars are wearing their clunky helmets. Judging by their stance, I'd hate to see the annoyance and rage plastered to their faces. It was no matter, though. templars were a nuisance to most magi, and magi a nuisance to most templars. I wasn't a bad person, so I usually listened to the templars.

Usually.

"What is it now? Did you not notice me peacefully sleeping there? Or did the helmets put you off?" I smirked indefinitely, but then was replaced with a genuine grimace when the templar on the left spoke.

"You are ready for the Harrowing. Come with us now." My breath hitched. I did not know whether I would jump up and down in happiness or crawl back under the covers in dread. The Harrowing was something that every mage looked forward to, and also did not look forward to. I myself was not sure of the which that I was infatuated with in regards to the Harrowing. I was never happy, nor worried when I had not gotten the wake up call in the middle of the night for it. Now, though, I believe that the feeling was...fear. Yes, I decided on fear. It was the most suitable. But, the fear was more or less laced with righteousness. I was confident in myself almost all of the time. I never underestimated my abilities. If I were to be lucky, this Harrowing would be a breeze. Or, I would be blinded by my hubris and end up becoming an abomination and then slain by the templars.

I exited the bed slowly and cautiously. I did not speak, nor make any notion of what I was feeling. I started to head the other way, but one of the templars spoke up.

"And where do you think you are going, then?" He asked me, crossing his arms. I narrowed my eyes and gestured towards my body.

"I have to get changed, you bleeding sod! Wow. Something tells me that either your helmet is on backwards or you're even more thick than I thought." I sarcastically bantered at the man before turning on my heel and heading toward the chest at the end of the bed before he could say another word. I quickly lifted the lock and pawed through the clothes. I did not have much, seeing as I was no noble, and a mage at that. Still, I had agreed to share the chest with another mage by the name of Ailis. We were close, almost friends. She had not been through her Harrowing yet, and people had said that she was to become a Tranquil. I prayed to the Maker for that girl, but I could not change what was coming to her.

I quickly changed, just so the stupid templars would not bark at me. I hurriedly brushed through my short, blonde hair. I brushed my hair around with my fingers, and then hurried back to the templars. They were talking to each other, and barely noticed my presense until I made a noise. The one who had talked to me the most crossed his arms again, and I rolled my eyes. "Take me away then. We are not going anywhere by standing here."

I followed their lead as they guided me through the quiet halls and up all the floors to the Harrowing chamber. My heart was pounding in my chest and my palms were sweaty. I could not believe that it was my time. I was ready. Irving must have full faith in me, or I would not be here. I liked Irving and he liked me. I was a good pupil, and that was fully noted. Perhaps that is why I got the nicest treatment him. The other senior enchanters didn't like me much. It was a mutual relationship, so it never really bothered me much. I did not care about them. It was not they who would judge my abilities and put them to the test.

Before I knew it, we were ascending the stairs and through the door that led to the Harrowing chamber. My clammy hands were pressed tightly against the sides of my robes. I clenched and unlcenched the fabric, hoping to dry my hands. My face was feeling red, and I knew that it was must likely blushing. That was one thing I really did not like about myself: my blushing. The amount of blood must be a startling amount within my face, judging by all of the times that I blush in a day. I blush like a normal person when embarrased or flattered. But, I also blush when I'm nervous, flustered, or if I'm lying. I suppose that is why I never get away with any fibs. It is very easy to tell when I'm not telling the truth. I guess that makes me bad coercionist.

The templar - it seemed the second one had faded from my view - directed me toward Irving, Knight-Commander Greagoir and some other Templars. One of them I recognized as Cullen. He was staring at me, his face looking as emotionless as a Tranquil, but yet I could see the fear and worry in his eyes. When we stopped, the templar seemed to guard my back in case I wanted to flee. I did not want to flee, so I gave him glares whenever I could. Greagoir approached me, speaking as he walked.

"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him," He projected his voice, making it sound big and important. I did not doubt it, no not at all. Still, I do doubt whether or not the amoutn of people in the room requires him to speak so loudly. "Thus spoke the prophet Andraste as she cast down the Tevinter Imperium-ruled by mages who had brought the world to the edge of ruin."

He turned, now walking toward Irving. "Your magic is a gift, but it's also a curse. For demons of the dream realm - the Fade - are drawn to you," Greagoir walks back to me and turns, facing me. I stare back at him, showing the same amount of emotion that I granted to the templars. Nothing. "and seek to use you as a gateway into this world."

From behind me, Irving steps forward and starts toward me. "This is why the Harrowing exists. The ritual sends you into the Fade, and there you will face a demon; armed with only your will." Irving is behind me. I turn to face him. He is looking out of the high windows. I turn my head slightly to follow his gaze. The sun shines briefly from behind the stained glass. The lights change colors and dance on the floors of the Harrowing chamber. Such a pretty sight for a...harrowing experience to come. It seems he is waiting for me to speak.

Curiosity spikes through me. Perhaps I don't have to do this? What if the Harrowing is simply one way of passing from an apprentice to a full mage. "Is there any other option?" I ask, looking from Irving to Greagoir.

Greagior is the one to answer. "There is tranquility."

"Is losing all your magic an option?" I turn to Irving, as he speaks to me. I know it is not an option, and continue not to make any emotion. It is a serious manner, and though I usually find light hearted jokes nice in time of need such as this, I decide against saying anything. It would be inappropriate. "No, I have faith that you will succeed." Irving smiles at me and for once, I smile back. In my whole day, I have only smiled once, and that is now.

"Know this Apprentice," I turn my head back to Greagoir. "If you fail, we templars will perform or duty. You will die." I swallow gently, trying not to worry myself too much. I won't fail. I am a strong mage.

I turn to the pedastal off my right. It is filled with a strange, blue, glowing liquid. "This is lyrium. The very essence of magic, and your gateway to the Fade."

Irving breaks in, stepping close to me and gesturing to the pedastal. I watch him, slowly. He whispers, "The Harrowing is a secret out of neccesity, child. Every mage must go through this trial by fire. As we succeeded, so shall you. Keep your wits about you and remember, the Fade is a realm of dreams. The spirits may rule it, but your own will is real."

Greagoir's voice cuts into Irvings. "The apprentice must go through the test alone, First Enchanter." I narrow my eyes at him. I appreciate Irving's concern, but I don't see why Greagoir has to be such a killjoy. But, it seems that through the rough coating of his words, he means nothing wrong. "You are ready." He says to me, extending his hand to the pedestal. I nod. I walk to the pedastal, approaching it slowly but surely. My heart is thudding in my chest and my temples are beaded with sweat. I'm nervous, and my face is red hot. I reach out a hand and dunk it into the pool of lyrium. My hand instantly swells with the blue, glowing light. My eyes widen and I lift my hand, staring at it as I turn it around and gaze at it. Then, a bright light erupts from the pool and everything goes white.