[ this is all alarming—so alarming that it gives ness pause, even as she frowns deeply at her caterpillar friend.

she recalls a scribing room, sat at an elbow smudged with ink and a husky voice murmuring—'ware the radical with vision, ennaris, always be sure to think for yourself. ren's dark, serious eyes holding hers as she explained tactics, rhetoric—the opposition is coming for you as you sleep, your life may be forfeit if you don't align with us, anyone who disagrees is naive or stupid or an agent of the enemy.

given what she already knows of the chantry, it doesn't seem impossible—nor, even, especially unlikely—that they will eventually come steal her from her bed one night. she'd be a fool, though, to be swayed so quickly, and an even bigger fool to trust without reservation a man who saw a young girl lacking context and pounced on the opportunity she presented. ]

I have experienced, [ she says slowly, finding the path of her sentence deliberately, ] being a conduit for magic I could not control. To be out of control of myself—worse, to know that even without intention I could cause serious harm... It was terrible. For a week, I was in misery.

[ her eyes meet isaac's now, steely, daring. the caterpillar is encouraged to the desk. ]

It was a templar who first rescued me from myself, and then a native mage. They both had an earnest desire to do right by me, not ignorant of the pain I could cause but willing to reach out their hands despite.

I needed both of them to be safe and useful. Not just the mage.