It was the early afternoon that day when Daress had decided to go to the library in her black and veil. She had finished all her tasks for that day early, as she liked to do. That left her time to get in some reading, and her research into whatever had been happening to her had been at a standstill recently. She had to push through it. She had gotten distracted reading novels with Arturri, and lost focus on her problem.

Whatever spirit was inside of her, it hadn’t acted up since that day at the market, aside from a constant appetite. Daress hadn’t had any opportunity since the market to experience anything unusual, since Leliana locked the Orphanage down. She had no reason to go against her wishes and approach any of the time-freezing barriers and wasn’t keen on testing them.

Yesterday, she had wanted to share her terrible secret with Arturri, but she couldn’t bring herself to. He said that Nadira could get them out. She knew what that meant, regarding her application to become a Diplomat. But she also knew that was a ‘no’ weeks ago. But all the same, for Arturri to almost guarantee it felt like a betrayal somehow.

It was silly, but it gnawed at her. He didn’t care that she had wanted that. What it meant to her. Then again, she wondered if he even knew what she wanted? She had spent much of her time with him in the last month, but he never really asked her anything. She had been grateful for the company anyways. How pathetic.

She tried to distract herself with the task at hand. A small candle with a glass shield around it sat on her study table with her piles of books. She arranged the titles before her.

Arturri wouldn’t have been reliable to ask for help, she told herself. He was going to leave. Who knew how long this would take. Best to let him go. He had his problems as she had hers.

The library was almost empty today. She imagined most of the usual patrons would have been preparing for the ball that evening. It seemed it was mostly her and one of the volunteering librarians.

He was a young man from the Sedralogue Family. He pushed a short trolley about to return the books that Daress had taken to the table. There was something Daress didn’t like about his presence. Now she just wanted to be alone, it seemed obnoxious of him to hover around. But she tried to keep her head up.

The section that she was looking through was on the King and Queen, and the nature of spirits. Because it was the Grotto that landed her with this spirit, it seemed information on their death there could provide her with some information. Since her discovery about banishments she felt more information on spirits themselves might also be helpful.

She had left the book of banishments back in her room having gone through it, front and back, at this stage. But the spirit hadn’t caused any harm. Aside from this constant hunger she felt. But that was just a sensation. It didn’t mean anything. Her physical body was well nourished. It wasn’t as if she was starving. But the spirit wanted something.

From the marketplace, she had a sneaking suspicion it was magic that it wanted. But why? What kind of magic was it that desired to consume other magics? Why was it in the Grotto, and what did it mean that it was left there alone for so long? It left her with so many questions, and so far, all that she had come up with was that spirit magic was not the only kind of magic in existence.

The books had over the past few weeks detailed the known magic of the mer, who she had initially suspected as a prime suspect for this unusual sensation. But their magic was wild and unpredictable and had never been known to be transmitted to anything non-mer.

Then there was the magic of old Beasts like the dragons, who seemed to follow similar rules that have been almost fully lost to humans. Many suspected that the dragons and the mer worked in similar ways.

She poured over old pages worn dull by her calloused fingers. Then, a fresh pile of books appeared beside her.

She looked up to see the Sedralogue boy walk away, a flick of green cloak all that marked him.

At once, she was thankful but also concerned. He had been paying attention to the books she had been returning to the cart. She felt embarrassed. Perhaps this research should be a secret. She didn’t know what he would think of her for reading so much on such ancient history. But if anyone would understand it would be the Sedralogue. Wisdom and curiosity were their forte. It was his curiosity she was worried about.

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“Thank you,” she said to him. She couldn’t be rude.

She had forgotten that she was wearing a veil, and he was surprised that she spoke to him. Oh dear, he might want to speak with her more now.

“If there’s anything else I can’t do for you? … What are you researching?” he asked.

She had opened a bucket of worms. If only she had kept quiet. That deep hunger seemed to leap at his presence. She just needed to get him away from her. She didn’t know what would happen if she was close to a magic-user.

“That is Orphan business,” she said, straightening her posture and sounding cold as she could manage. The candle flickered.

He paused, but did give a nod and thankfully leave her alone to her business. The hunger had gotten worse when he was near. She felt a headache coming on. It felt all the more urgent to figure out what this thing was within her.

The books that he had delivered for her were on the special magic of the King and Queen. Now that was interesting. It was known that the Orphan Prince gave them ancestry, but it was also known that the King and Queen were able to perform magic before them. It was only the King and Queen’s death after all that put magic in the hands of the people. Before then, magic was Royal. She had always presumed that had been just the stories changing over time. The idea that the King and Queen had a different kind of magic had never occurred to her.

It seemed their magic had not originated from spirits at all. Daress wondered at that point if she should bother reading further. It was certainly a spirit causing her problem. But something about it held her interest.

It discussed the type of magic used by mages above ground before the calamity. They were a very secretive bunch, but the King and Queen revealed their presence at the start of Entithea. It was their very own living spirits, rather than the spirits of the dead, that they had used to create what the original dwellers called Miracles, and what they called Magic. It had led to their worship when all people had was technology.

“The Royals had described the connection to this magical source not unlike how we connect to the ancestors. However, a key difference is in the price paid. As we give our spirits at death to the ancestors, they instead were said to pay different and often unpredictable prices to use their ‘spells’. These spells were less elegant than the refinement of ancestry, and often had a dual effect: positive and negative. However, this magic saved Entithea hundreds of times during their lives. Often, these spells were written in tomes which are our only record of the lost magic craft. It is known that ancestry itself was formed from one of these spells now lost to the ages.”

What price?

Daress’ heart hammered in her chest at the sensation of the words within her. She hadn’t heard that voice inside of her mind since the night of the Grotto. It was back. The hunger she felt was dizzying. She gripped the table. Perhaps if she answered its question it would stop this.

What price? For ancestry? Positive and negative… Could it possibly be what she was thinking?

“You’re something different…”

She was amazed that she felt the answer. Not exactly different. Not the same.

“Excuse me?” The Sedralogue said. He had heard her. “What am I?”

Filled with death. Look how lifeless he is already. His soul is heavy. Lighten the load.

Daress shook her head, “No, sorry, I don’t… I didn’t say anything to you…” But he still approached. “Please, stop there-“

He stopped his approach, looking very confused. She pushed the table and her chair creaked against the floor like a scream. She had to get out of here - to get away from him. She didn’t trust herself.

It’s a curse.

She remembered suddenly something from her book on botany. Thistle and dogs tongue often grew together. One would cure the sting of the other. No. There was something seriously wrong with her. This was all wrong. She grabbed at her veil. She felt claustrophobic. Itchy.

“Are you alright? I can help,” he reached out to try to touch her arm. His skin was like ice. Like death. She couldn’t unsee it now. Something in his face was ghastly. She stared at him in horror, but he couldn’t see her face.

He flinched away. “You’re burning up,” he said. “You need a doctor.”

“No,” she said. She didn’t want him to bring anyone to her. It was her grabbing his arm now.

Let me help him.

He looked concerned. There were bags under his eyes. Hollowed out. She could see it now. Like a ghoul. How could she not see it before?

Let me in.

She held his arm for too long. He knew something was wrong. She had to act now if she was going to do anything. What was she even going to do? It said it was going to help him. Maybe it really would.

A part of her maybe had always known this was how it was. Perhaps she had always seen the decay around her. She knew Families had rotted to the core and even the Diplomats were tainted by this mould of bias and old blood. What she had come into contact with could be the antidote to the poison around her. Maybe she could change all that.

Her mind was racing, and she realized she was shaking. Her thoughts weren’t coherent, but her hunger for this raged within her like a mania. She listened. At that moment she just wanted to make it all stop. She let it in.