Miriam stood in the courtyard of the Ostwick Circle of Magi, sweat dripping down her face and pooling on the ground beneath her feet. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, and she leaned heavily on her staff, feeling its rough wooden texture against her palm. Her once-pristine robes were now soaked through with sweat, clinging uncomfortably to her thin frame. Her long, barely entwined braid hung over her shoulder.
For four hours, she had been practicing her spells with the First Enchanter Lydia. For some reason, the old woman had taken a particular interest in Miriam, dedicating her own time to the girl's training.
Miriam had been full of excitement and eager to begin her training after she had received her vision three years ago. She had imagined herself hurling fireballs and summoning thunderstorms, her power unmatched by the forces of darkness. The girl had believed that if the Maker had chosen her for an important mission, her abilities would rival those of the Grand Enchanter.
She had poured her heart and soul into her magical training, but regardless of her sincere effort, she found that her powers were woefully inadequate. She watched with envy as her fellow apprentices summoned magnificent flames, sharp ice crystals, and stunning bolts of electricity while her attempts produced nothing more than a pitiful puff of smoke, a handful of snowflakes, or a weak electric jolt. Even the First Enchanter couldn't hide her disappointment when she saw her lackluster displays.
As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Miriam's sense of inadequacy grew stronger. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was a fool who had deluded herself into thinking she was worthy of the Maker's special attention and that her vision was nothing more than a hallucination brought on by the pain.
However, she refused to fall back into the suffocating grasp of hopelessness and despair. With fierce earnestness, she battled her wavering conviction. Resolved to keep her head above water, she prayed with fervent passion and pushed herself to the limit determined to make the most of what powers she possessed.
Her perseverance paid off as she discovered that her talents lay in a different aspect of magic. While she could not conjure up destructive forces of nature, she could bring about physical restoration and create multiple protective barriers at once.
As she continued to hone her skills, Miriam took solace in the fact that she could still be a valuable asset in her own way. Her abilities were no less important than those of the masters of fire and lightning, for her spells could mean the difference between life and death.
The First Enchanter's aged face glistened with sweat as she elegantly wiped it away with the back of her hand. Hours of intense casting had left her little more than mildly fatigued, and her graceful strides carried her effortlessly toward Miriam. Her expression was a strange mix of contentment and concern, reflecting the complex emotions that tugged at her heart. "Miriam, your barriers are exceptional," she said, admiration shining in her eyes. "You sustain them longer than most of the apprentices. Yet, I am still worried about your impending Harrowing. Your healing and protective spells are impressive, but they may not be enough to defeat the demon." The First Enchanter's words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of her concern. "I can try to convince the Knight-Commander to postpone the ritual," she offered.
Miriam straightened her posture and her hand instinctively went to the amulet she wore around her neck. She clutched it tightly, drawing strength from its presence. "Do not worry, First Enchanter," she replied. "Somehow, the Maker will carry me through."
Lydia looked at her with a hint of reproach. "The Maker helps those who help themselves."
Miriam knew this, but she was as ready as she was ever going to be. Besides, for years, alongside her studies, she had tried to achieve a seemingly impossible goal: to bring justice to the retired Knights who were still suffering from Mother Lucia's abuse.
Yet, despite her tireless efforts, she hit one roadblock after another. The girl had written letters to Revered Mother Petra pleading for an investigation into Mother Lucia's tyranny. She had spoken to the Knight-Commander of the Circle and even reached out to her father, but no one believed her claims. The incident had made Mother Lucia a hero within the city-state of Ostwick. She was hailed as a valiant servant of the Maker who had bravely confronted a deranged apostate disguised as an initiate.
Seeing Miriam's struggle, the First Enchanter explained to her the harsh truth that had been staring at her face all along: might makes right. It was a bitter pill for the girl to swallow. She had always believed that justice would prevail and that the strong would protect the weak. But the reality was far from her idealistic vision.
With a heavy heart, Miriam realized that she had to play the Game if she wanted to make a difference. Advancing in the Circle of Magi hierarchy was her only hope of gaining the chance she needed to help the retired Templars. The newly appointed Senior Enchanters were revealed in a glamorous ceremony at the Grand Cathedral, in the presence of the Most Holy herself. The girl hoped that if she could just meet the Divine in person, she could plead her case and convince her to investigate the corruption within the Ostwick Chantry. She was eager to get through the Harrowing and begin her ascent to Senior Enchanter as soon as possible, for every day that passed was a day too many for the Knights to suffer.
Trying to convince the First Enchanter she proclaimed, "I have worked very hard to develop the skills that the Maker has given me. I am determined to get through my Harrowing as soon as possible and start moving towards my goals."
Lydia's expression softened, and she looked at Miriam with almost motherly eyes. The wrinkles on her face crinkled as she smiled gently. "Sometimes, it's hard to believe that you are the same frightened and weak girl who was brought here three years ago."
Miriam shifted slightly, throwing a glance at her right hand, which was covered in an uneven patchwork of rough and textured scars that crisscrossed each other. At times she wondered if she should tell other people what she saw in her vision, but somehow it felt like something too private to share, something just between her and the Maker.
The old woman continued, "I'll schedule your Harrowing for next week then. If you firmly believe that you are prepared, then you are ready, because ultimately, your ability to resist the demon and maintain your resolve is what matters most." After a pause, she advised in a serious tone, "In the meantime, refresh your knowledge on the various types of demons and their tactics for breaking your will. We can't predict which of these monsters will come your way, so it's best to be prepared for any possible scenario."
With a firm nod, Miriam locked eyes with the woman, showing her resolve. "Thank you, Enchanter Lydia," she said, her voice steady. "I will do my best to prepare."
Lydia's eyes glinted with approval. "I do not doubt that you will," she said reassuringly. "Now, it's best if you change out of those sweaty robes. We wouldn't want you to catch a cold just before the Harrowing."
The Enchanter's concern for her well-being made her heart swell with gratitude. With a cheery grin, the girl replied, "Of course, First Enchanter, right away. I will see you later at the Circle's library." With a wave goodbye, she turned and strode towards her quarters, eager to continue her preparations.
The day of the Harrowing had arrived, and Miriam's heart was pounding in her chest as she was led through the winding corridors of the Circle by a group of Templars. Her emotions were a swirling mix of excitement and fear, and she could feel her palms growing slick with sweat as they walked in silence.
Finally, they arrived at the Harrowing Chambers, and the girl was ushered inside to the designated space where she would face the ultimate test of her ability to resist the possession. The chamber was spacious, with tall, looming arcs and flickering torches casting dancing shadows across the walls. There were no windows to the outside world, and the air inside felt thick and heavy with anticipation.
As she stood in the middle of the chamber, surrounded by a circle of grim-faced Templars with weapons at the ready, Miriam could feel her nerves starting to fray. To her relief, First Enchanter Lydia and Knight Commander Tobias appeared, and Miriam drew a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
The First Enchanter approached her, carrying a chalice filled with lyrium, the contents shimmered with an otherworldly glow, a vibrant energy pulsing within. Her eyes were kind and reassuring as she spoke to Miriam, "I believe in you. Stay strong and remember the lessons I taught you."
With a trembling hand, the girl took the chalice, feeling the cool weight of the metal in her grasp.
She lifted the cup to her lips and piercingly cold lyrium flowed down her throat, chilling her from the inside. Emptying the contents, Miriam lowered the goblet, feeling the scrutinizing gaze of the Templars upon her. A surge of power rushed through her body, filling her with an indescribable energy. The world before her became distorted, colors became unnaturally bright, and the shapes of people around her warped and melted into splashes of vivid hues. A strange, alien melody began to fill her ears, echoing from all directions at once. A numbing sensation spread from her head, coursing through her limbs and weakening her extremities. The girl dropped the chalice to the ground, her legs wobbling. The world around her began to spin at an incredible speed, all the colors blending in a white swirl.
In the blink of an eye, the music and numbness disappeared. She found herself standing in the middle of a desolate, barren field of dark, wet earth. The air was thick with moisture, and heavy clouds loomed overhead as if they were about to unleash a deluge of rain upon her.
Miriam stood bewildered and disoriented. Her hand reached for her amulet, but to her horror, it was nowhere to be found. Panic began to set in as she frantically searched for any sign of familiarity, but all she could see was a vast expanse of dirt and mud.
Suddenly, the ground near her began to shift and churn, as if something was stirring beneath the surface. A dark figure emerged from the wet soil, its grey skin slick with mud and grime. It clawed its way out of the mire, revealing a gaping maw filled with jagged, rodent-like teeth.
The creature was clad in rugged black robes that clung to its form as if they were woven into its flesh. The girl recognized the monster immediately as a Despair demon, but the illustrations in the books had done it no justice. Its appearance was more terrifying than she could have ever imagined.
She desperately tried to move, but the dread paralyzed her. She knew she had to fight, but how could she defeat such a beast without any offensive magic? Despair demons were susceptible to fire, but she barely could light a candle, let alone throw a fireball.
The demon's glowing eyes surveyed its surroundings, searching for its prey, and it locked onto the girl with a piercing gaze. It let out a terrifying howl that seemed to come from the depths of the Void itself. The sound echoed through the air, striking terror into Miriam's heart. The demon began to move, its movements quick and jerky like those of a predator hunting its prey. Miriam could feel its malevolent energy closing in on her, and she realized that she had to act fast if she wanted to survive. She threw her hands forward, unleashing a translucent blue shield that erupted before her just in time to deflect the demon's attack. The creature's razor-sharp claws clashed against the barrier, sending cracks spiderwebbing over its surface. Miriam gritted her teeth and ordered the shield to push back. It slammed into the demon and dragged it several meters through the muddy terrain before finally breaking. Undeterred, the Despair demon leaped to its feet and conjured its own barrier, which shimmered with malevolent energy. In an instant, it unleashed a deadly ice beam toward Miriam, who frantically cast a protective spell to defend herself.
The attack hit her with a bone-jarring force, sending her flying backward into the ground. The spell broke upon impact, but it had done its job, taking most of the damage before dissipating. Miriam groaned in pain, her chest aching from the blow.
Her mind raced as she searched for a way to defeat the demon, and then it hit her: she could cast a spell to destroy the creature's protective barrier and trap it within her own. With fierce determination, Miriam dispelled the demon's barrier shattering it into countless pieces. Then without hesitation, she cast a spherical barrier around the creature trapping it inside.
As sweat trickled down her face, the girl poured every ounce of her magic into the barrier, creating layer upon layer of protection. The monster let out an ear-piercing wail, its claws frantically scratching against the walls of the sphere, but to no avail. Each coat destroyed by the demon's claws was immediately replaced by a new one until it was utterly trapped and subdued.
The monstrous creature ceased its attempts to get free and locked its glowing eyes onto Miriam. She felt an eerie and cold entity take hold of her mind as a voice that sounded like her own, but twisted and distorted, whispered to her, "What are you fighting so hard for? Even if you pass your Harrowing and become the Senior Enchanter, do you think the Divine will believe you? Your father didn't, so why would she?" The voice taunted.
Feeling like she was losing control Miriam screamed, "Get out of my head!"
Still, the voice continued, more insidious and cruel than before. "Do you truly believe you've been chosen by the Maker?" it sneered. "You, of all people in Thedas? Don't make me laugh. Why would He choose an ugly, sterile girl who is so unlovable that her own family disowned her? Stop deluding yourself and accept that you are worthless. No one has ever loved you, and no one ever will."
Miriam was left reeling as if a thousand swords had pierced her soul, each one striking with pinpoint accuracy at the places that hurt the most. The words that had been hurled at her were like venom, seeping into her veins and poisoning her from within. Her eyes stung with tears that threatened to spill over as she tried to push back the wave of anguish that sought to overwhelm her. And then, a fierce hatred began to awaken within her. It was like a wildfire, spreading rapidly and consuming everything in its path. How dare this Maker-forsaken beast use her deepest fears and insecurities against her? Miriam's jaw clenched, her heart pounding with indignation. The world around her seemed to fade away, leaving only her and the Despair demon trapped in the center of the sphere. She could feel the heat radiating off her body as she took a step forward, her eyes locked on the creature.
With a burst of strength and willpower, she commanded the magical sphere to shrink. The beast struggled against its confinement, its body writhing and contorting in a desperate attempt to break free. As the Despair demon fought against its bonds, she felt a malicious glee rise within her. Miriam heard the sound of the creature's bones cracking under the immense pressure and knew that victory was within her grasp. The demon's growls turned into desperate cries as it realized the extent of its defeat. The girl raised her hands above her head, preparing for a final squeeze that would leave the creature nothing more than a black, gooey mass.
Miriam's focus on her spell was interrupted by the thousands upon thousands of small white wildflowers springing from the earth, transforming the once barren land into a beautiful floral carpet. Any Andrastian would recognize those as Andraste's Grace, gentle wildflowers whose enchanting perfume remained even after the blooms had withered and dried. She felt a powerful and sweet aroma engulfing her. The honeyed scent was like a soothing balm on Miriam's frayed nerves, and it began to douse the flames of hatred that had been burning within her. She protested, knowing that she needed the negative emotions to fuel her spell and savor the moment of the Despair demon's defeat. However, she found herself unable to resist the aromatic charm that enveloped her like a warm and nurturing embrace from a mother.
As she struggled to maintain the sphere, the flowers surrounding her began to glow with soft and comforting light, filling the air with holy energy. Miriam felt it coursing through her, and with it came an intense feeling of pure and unadulterated love. The glow from the blooms grew brighter and brighter, and the divine ardor flowed into her with increasing intensity.
The girl felt herself drowning in the profound emotion, unable to contain so much affection. Every beat of her heart was painful as if it were about to burst. Unable to resist the tenderness within her, she dropped to her knees, her barrier dissipating and setting the creature free.
She saw the Despair demon lunging towards her, its claws poised to strike, but as she gazed into the creature's eyes, something shifted within her. The hatred and fear she felt for the demon vanished, replaced with an overwhelming sense of compassion. Miriam could see beyond the monster's wicked exterior and into the Maker's firstborn that lay within. It was unfair that it was suffering in its wickedness, going astray without His love, while she had so much of it to give.
The girl closed her eyes and outstretched her hands toward the creature. She let herself be completely consumed by love, allowing it to stream from her to the lost child of the Maker. And when the creature came upon her, it was not the sharp claws of the Despair demon that reached her, but the warm touch of the spirit of Hope.
Miriam slowly opened her eyes, her surroundings coming into focus. She found herself lying on the cold, hard floor of the Harrowing Chamber, yet her body felt comfortable and snug. She instantly reached for her amulet, relieved to find it still securely around her neck. As she struggled to stand up, Enchanter Lydia came to her aid, helping her to her feet.
"Well done, Miriam," The Fist Enchanter spoke, her voice filled with pride. "You have proven yourself worthy. From this moment on, you are a mage in the Ostwick Circle of Magi." Filled with relief and gratitude, Miriam couldn't help but beam at the Enchanter Lydia who had supported her along the way.
To her surprise, she heard the sound of applause from the Templars around her. Miriam was incredulous at what she was hearing. With an expression of disbelief across her face, she turned to Commander Tobias, whose stern features had softened in approval, as he was clapping.
When everyone slowly began to disperse, the girl felt a strange tingling sensation in the palm of her right hand. Bringing it closer to her eyes, she was shocked to see the scars on her skin rearrange themselves, forming the image of the Andraste's Grace flower.
Enchanter Lydia noticed Miriam's reaction and asked, "Is everything alright?"
Miriam nodded, still in awe of what had just happened. "Yes, everything is perfect," she said, her voice serene.