Chapter 25- The Void Take You
Read From Beginning
Ship: Malcolm/Leandra, Mara/Carver Sr.
Words: 7108
Tw: implied tranquiliziation, implied child harm
It took a couple of days before Mara could be put on the list of accepted visitors for Carver. As soon as she was cleared, she drove up to Kirkwall’s prison just outside of the city, a tower with iron walls, barbed wire fences, and flat concrete. There was not a hint of green, no sign of life in the land except for the miserable prisoners exercising in the yard in their orange jumpsuits.
She couldn’t imagine Carver living here for the next couple of years. She couldn’t bear the thought of what it was going to do to him. She didn’t know how she was even going to survive being a single mother. She’d let herself feel safe in thinking she’d be able to count on Carver’s support, but she should have known better than to think the Maker would be kind to her. She knew what a cruel God He was.
She walked into the prison, checking in with a guard and putting her purse through a conveyor belt where it would be inspected. She was patted down by a woman guard, though Mara wasn’t sure why all this fuss was necessary. What was she going to do? Sneak a phone in her pussy and magically phase it behind the glass to him?
After they checked her identification, and made sure she was actually on the visitors' list and had an appointment, she was led into a blank white room filled with windows and chairs. She saw inmates already talking to their loved ones, children, husbands, wives, aunts, and nephews. She saw Carver waiting for her in the far end, his coffee-brown eyes lighting up with warmth when he saw her.
Mara fought tears as she walked across the room and sat herself down in front of him. She could hear the overlapping voices of the other prisoners' conversations, the dividers giving some semblance of privacy.
Carver picked up the phone that hung on the wall and Mara did the same. She sniffed sharply, not sure how to school her face. “I don’t understand. Aren’t you nobility? Why haven’t you made bail?”
Carver looked down at his neatly trimmed nails. “Considering everything that’s happened, I’ve been officially disowned. Technically my name is no longer Carver…”
Mara twisted her face. “Of course, it is.”
Carver lifted his eyes, his smile sad but genuine. “I’m glad you came. I really needed to see your face.”
Mara’s heart cracked. “I needed to see yours, too.” But not like this. Mara’s heart was shattering seeing Carver so defeated. She blinked back a tear she was fighting. He looked so much smaller in his orange jumpsuit, so much more human. His shoulders were sagging. She could see the stress lining his forehead and wrinkling his bloodshot eyes. His cheeks looked sunken, his beard and hair dull, and he looked so, so tired. Carver was a man full of love and life, and here he sat before her broken.
Carver closed his eyes, his face tense and strained. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Mara’s heart twisted in pain. “Why are you taking the blame? This isn’t your fault.”
“It is,” Carver gritted his teeth. “I knew better. I knew it, and I let it happen anyways.” He finally opened his eyes, wet and glistening. “I’m just sorry that it seems that you’ll have to raise your daughter by yourself after all.”
“My daughter?” Mara’s eyes scrunched up, confused and hurt. “What happened to her being our daughter?”
Carver’s lips made a wobbly line as he sniffed sharply, clearing his throat. “My lawyer says the usual punishment for this is about twenty years, but they are emphasizing my good record so it looks like the judge will let me off with ten. With good behavior, they say I can cut it in half…” Carver sighed raggedly. “But even five years is a lifetime for a child. It wouldn’t be fair to her.” Carver looked down, clenching his fist. “But the prosecution is pushing for the full twenty since I refuse to show remorse for my actions, so honestly I’m not sure what will happen.”
Mara found herself angry at his confession. “Why wouldn’t you show remorse? I don’t give a fuck if it’s not real. Carver, you have a daughter to think about now!”
Carver flinched, his shoulders dropping further than she thought possible. “I’m just so tired of lying I’m not sure if I can actually convince anyone anymore.” Carver looked up at Mara, a tender smile in his bleary eyes. “I’m not expecting you to wait for me. If you find someone else that makes you happy, I don’t want to take that from you.” His smile turned bitter. “I’ll probably be a completely different man by the time I get out.”
Mara was choking up, the tears bursting up through her throat. “Then we’ll both just get to know you again.”
Carver twisted his face. “Mara-”
“No!” she shouted so loud the guard’s head turned, and then the tears started to fall off her chin. “You’re the father of my child. I’m not just giving up on you! Don’t you give up now, either!” She reached out, wanting so badly to bring his face in for a kiss and tell him it was all going to be alright, but she just pressed her palm against the glass. “Please, Carver,” she pleaded, her voice desperate.
The tears Carver had been fighting sprang from his eyes and he hunched his shoulders in a sob. He looked embarrassed and he wiped his face with the back of his large hand. “I’m sorry,” he gasped out. “I thought this was my last chance. I didn’t think I’d ever have a real family.”
Mara smiled through her tears. Neither did she. “That’s what we are now, Carver. Family.”
Carver’s shoulders shook as he cried and he pressed his pale palm against hers, his warmth faint against the glass. They stayed a few moments like this, knowing this moment would change them forever.
Then through Carver’s tears, his lips grew an eager smile, so much brighter than before. “When I get out of here, will you marry me?” His dark wet face twisted in a grimace. “I’m sorry… this is probably not the right way to ask… and it’s much too soon…” His red-rimmed eyes met hers, “But I think if I had you to look forward to, the time would pass easier.”
Mara’s heart was soaring with joy at his question. And even though she was sitting in a prison, she felt like the luckiest woman in the world to land a man as pure as him. “It’s not too soon,” she slapped on one of her mischievous grins, her tongue tucking to the corner of her mouth. “With all the time we have, we can take it slow and get to know each other as you wanted.”
Carver’s glistening coffee-brown eyes lit up like the sun, warming her. More happy tears ran down his cheeks. “Is that a yes?”
Mara gave a playful salute winking at him. “That’s a hell yes, Officer.”
Carver shivered in delight, a devilish smile back on his lips. “The things I’m going to do to you when I get out of here.”
Mara’s smirked back, leaning forward so he could see down her cleavage. “We should start making a list.”
—
Mara was engaged. Leandra wanted to be happy for her, but she found the green sickness of envy twisting her heart. Mara had a bright future, and a wonderful life to look forward to. Mara was going to have an amazing family while Leandra had lost just about everything. She remembered to count her blessings, telling herself she should be grateful that she still had Mara, and a wonderful man like Jaheem by her side, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be satisfied.
She felt like such a terrible person. She knew at best it would take Carver five years to be free, and those five years would be full of hardship and bitterness, but it felt like there was a light in Mara’s future, while Leandra was going to forever fumble in the dark. She tried her best not to let her envy show, but anytime Mara started looking up wedding details such as what dress she wanted, what kind of cake she should have, what the wedding venue should be, or asking Leandra’s opinion on that ‘list’ she and Carver were making, Leandra felt the jealousy pitting her heart, and it was getting harder and harder to fake her enthusiasm.
Leandra was too tired to cry anymore. She moped around, ate a lot of ice cream, and binge-watched so many shows, but eventually, sadness got boring. She knew she should technically be looking for a new job. It wasn’t like she had the income to just be sitting around acting like a lovesick depressed child, but she still couldn’t show her face anywhere in public. The news of her humiliation had finally reached Lowtown, too. Now every man was treating her like a piece of meat and she had become a social pariah.
When Malcolm gave back the ribbon, she didn’t know what to think. And then she woke up one morning and realized she was furious at him. Malcolm gave up on her. He said he’d never do that. She thought he would chase her forever. She knew she told him to get out of her life, but she realized now she didn’t actually want him to listen to her. And she found that confusing, which made her even angrier.
She thought of giving her ribbon to Jaheem just to see if Malcolm would go crazy again, but she realized how terribly cruel that would be to Jaheem. Jaheem was so understanding, so caring, and patient. She tore her hair out in frustration. Why wasn’t she falling for him? He was dependable. Charismatic. Likable. Moral. Honest. Kind. Perfect. She wanted to give Jaheem the ribbon, but she knew while she cared about him, he didn’t have her heart. Malcolm had stolen it long ago and even now he refused to give it back.
She couldn’t sort out the mess of her feelings, so she decided to focus on another mess. So what if Brett denied her article? She still had the Council of Five’s letter. She still knew the truth. Leandra spent the better part of the morning drafting up a post on Headscribe, a social media site, informing the world of what she knew so far. It went something like this:
“My name is Leandra Amell, and I know right now I’m famous for all the wrong reasons, but I hope you’ll take time out of your day to listen to what I have to say.”
Underneath that was a photo of the Council of Five’s letter.
“A week ago I found out that my parents are in debt to an underground slaving network called the Council of Five. My legacy is a lie. My family’s wealth is an illusion. We are actually deeply in debt to this Council and, instead of accepting that the Maker withheld his blessings on our House, my family chose to sell Kirkwall’s citizens and commit great acts of sin.”
“I am deeply ashamed of this fact, but cannot hide from the truth. I know my family is not the only one in debt. I know that this runs deeper than I can possibly imagine. Please someone believe me and help me stop this.”
She posted it, hoping that it would get some traction, but Brett was right. While there were a few who were appalled and wanted to know more about the letter, they were quickly drowned by comments of men asking her to post more pictures of her tits, people debating about just how many lovers she had, and others claiming she was trying to distract everyone with petty lies. It was a nightmare. Eventually, she had to stop reading and arguing with the comments. She was only torturing herself.
Sometime late in the night, the doorbell rang. But when Mara answered the door, a dark car with tinted windows and blacked-out plates sped off down the street so fast they left skid marks. They’d left an orange envelope on the doorstep.
Mara opened the envelope and then went as white as a sheet. “Leandra?”
Leandra was watching TV on the couch, so she walked up to Mara to see what she was looking at. What she saw made her heart freeze in terror.
There were several pictures gathered inside, each image of a different person. There was an image of Mara sleeping peacefully in her bed, her covers tucked up in her polka-dot duvet. There was a similar picture of Harvel snoring with his mouth wide open and drooling, his sheets kicked off the bed, making a lump around him. And there was a third picture of Jaheem eating at a restaurant, blissfully unaware that someone was close enough to stab him. On each of their faces were red x’s over their eyes. The fourth card was a message with words that had been cut out and pasted from different magazines. “Who goes first? Your choice, Leandra.” Underneath that was the Circle of Five’s inverted triangle stamp.
Leandra couldn’t speak, her words caught in her throat. In her terror, she immediately rushed to her laptop to take down the post she had made, only to find that it had been already deleted.
—
Malcolm stormed into the Pulse, clearing the dancing crowd with just a murderous look. He kicked down the door to Cross’ office, barging in.
Cross jumped at the sight of Malcolm, nervousness in his eyes. Still, he leaned back in his chair and tried to look casual. “Elf. I thought you’d show up sooner or later.”
Malcolm growled. “You saw the photos, right?”
“Saved quite a few to my personal drive for later,” Cross winked one of his stone-grey eyes, even as a low rumble sounded in Malcolm’s throat. “But I take it from the footprint on the door, you want to know who leaked them?”
Malcolm raised a clenched fist, his hand bursting into blue flames. “You’re going to help me find them, and I’m going to end them. And if you don’t help me, I’ll figure out how many Carta thugs I can kill tonight, and skip town in the morning. How’s that sound?”
Cross laughed boisterously, placing a dark, meaty hand on his belly. “Guess you finally found your balls.” He leaned forward with a lopsided smirk. “You know as soon as I saw those photos, I thought you’d take it out on me. So I told my boys to go down and visit dear old Atronia Lovelace, the author of your little article, and ask her who she got those photos from.”
Cross did always have a habit of being two steps ahead of him. Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I’m listening. Who do I have to kill?”
Cross grinned wickedly. “Gamlen Amell. That’s your girl’s brother right?”
The flame died in Malcolm’s hand as he staggered back, hit by the weight of the news. “Gamlen?!”
Cross looked absolutely gleeful at the conflicted look on Malcolm’s face. “What a fucked up little family, right?”
Malcolm threw a spell at the ground, the flash of light singing the carpet. “Fuck!” What was he supposed to do now? He thought Leandra hated him now. If he went through with killing Gamlen, Malcolm might as well tie a noose around his neck.
Cross’ raucous laugh echoed through the office in time with the club’s thrumming beat.
Malcolm’s knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists, his eyes burning in hatred. He went to storm out of the room, but Cross’ voice stopped him.
“Wait, aren’t you forgetting something?” Cross placed two backpacks on his desk. “You’ve got work to do.”
Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot more lyrium than usual. I don’t have anywhere to stash that right now. I’m still unloading the last shipment.”
Cross pushed the bags forward. “Figure it out, elf. I ain’t asking.”
Malcolm knew how easily he could kill the dwarf, and with everything happening he seriously considered it, but it wasn’t like he could disappoint Leandra anymore than he already had. He did have a small fortune by this point, but if he was escaping soon, more cash couldn’t hurt. So he didn’t argue, grabbed the bags off the desk, and slung them over his shoulder. “I’ll text you when I’ve unloaded this.”
Cross grinned, his gold teeth shining with greed. “That’s a good elf.”
Malcolm bristled, almost punching the dwarf, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort of dirtying his hand. He did however knock a bottle of whiskey off the table as he left, making a mess of the floor.
Malcolm didn’t have enough space in his room for this lyrium, so he needed to figure out a plan fast. Since he had nothing but time now, he had spent most of it training with Chef. He’d also started working on a spell to take care of the problem of leaving contraband unguarded, and he only knew one person he could ask to help him test it.
Malcolm doubled back to the Circle, practically jogging the whole way.
Leaving Leandra was the hardest thing he had ever done. He knew it was creepy to show up at her house, but he couldn’t think of another way to return the ribbon and tell her the truth about what Cross had done. He thought he owed her honesty, even if it wasn’t going to win him any favors at this point.
But still, when he saw Leandra in Jaheem’s car, the only color he could see was red. Seeing them together hurt worse than being flogged, than being imprisoned, than being cursed. When she leaned in to kiss Jaheem, Malcolm had to look away. He knew he would snap otherwise.
But now her favor had been returned, and though he didn’t feel better, he did feel lighter, like he was numbing to the reality of being without her. He accepted that his life would be full of pain and probably very short. Especially now that Carver had been arrested.
He’d need to escape the Circle soon. Meredith had a vendetta against him. With her as Knight-Captain, she would make it her personal mission to destroy him. And while he didn’t have anything to live for anymore, he wasn’t quite ready to lay down and die just yet.
He crept back into the Circle and made his way into the apprentice quarters to find Charlie’s room. The younger apprentices slept in bunks beside each other, but the older apprentices were allowed their own room if there was enough space for it. In this situation, it was a blessing that there were fewer mages in Kirkwall’s Circles than others.
Malcolm crept into Charlie’s room and found him snoring away on his hard metal bed, drool pooling on his pillow. Malcolm cast a shadow across Charlie’s face and shook his shoulder, covering his mouth so he couldn’t scream very loud.
Charlie’s eyes flew open darting wildly. A short yell was muffled against Malcolm’s hand, before recognition set in. Charlie tore Malcolm off of him. “Dude, what are you doing out of the dungeons? If they catch you-”
“They won’t catch me,” Malcolm interrupted. “Shut up and listen, alright. I need a favor.”
Charlie blinked, sleepiness still in his brown eyes. “What kind of favor?”
Malcolm pulled the backpacks off his back and placed them on Charlie’s bed. “My room’s already full of shit, so I need to find a place to stash this. Just for tonight.”
Charlie looked at the bags, uncomfortable and tense. “What’s in the bags?”
Malcolm gritted his teeth, remembering that he was still tied to Honesty. “You don’t want to know.”
Charlie grimaced. “C’mon, dude. You know I’ll have your back, but don’t you think I should know what I’m getting into?”
Malcolm’s shoulders slumped. And then with shaky hands, he closed his eyes and unzipped one of the backpacks and showed Charlie the lyrium.
Charlie’s mouth gaped. “You’re a dealer?”
Malcolm grimaced, feeling the judgment. “Don’t tell Taylor, okay? It’s just until I can escape the Circle.”
Charlie looked down at the lyrium uneasily, his eyes wide and fearful. “You’re putting a lot of trust in me. This is a big moment.”
Malcolm rolled his eyes. “So, can I count on you or not?”
Charlie gulped. “Okay, man. Whatever you need.”
Malcolm started to look around the room and saw Charlie’s hamper. “Laundry was just done, right?”
“Yeah, yesterday.”
Malcolm grinned. “Perfect.” He dumped out Charlie’s clothes, put the bags in, and placed Charlie’s dirty clothes back on top, and then he rummaged through Charlie’s dresser and threw more clothes on to better disguise it.
“Dude, I still need to wear those,” Charlie groaned.
Malcolm waved his hand, further cloaking the bags by covering them in a wrinkled illusion, so they looked like just more clothes for anyone rummaging inside. Then Malcolm snapped his head at Charlie. “Help me test something.”
Charlie raised a thick eyebrow, yawning. “Yeah, whatever, dude. Just tell me what to do.”
“For now just watch.” Malcolm closed his eyes, concentrating to see the barriers between the worlds. He was always aware that there was this liminal space between realities. He could feel it every time he phased through the waking world and into the Fade. He reached out and touched it, slicing a sliver of reality like a needle threading through a cloth. A white line followed the tip of his glowing finger. When he pulled it away, the line bubbled open with a pop and a soft heavy humming filled the room.
Suddenly there was a hole in reality and it felt like the world was leaking into it. There was a heaviness coming from the hole, a strange aura emanating from it. It was just a white blank space like someone had erased part of the scenery.
Charlie gaped, unable to speak as he watched in terror.
That’s when Taylor popped into Charlie’s room with excited energy. “Charlie! Charlie, wake up! I need to tell you something about Mal-” Taylor saw the hole in reality and her eyes popped open as her mouth dropped.
Malcolm hunched over. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Taylor pointed to the portal. “What the fuck is that?!”
Malcolm hushed her and hurried to shut the door behind her. He shrugged. “I don’t know, yet.”
Taylor clutched a black grimoire to her chest. “What do you mean, you don’t know! What kind of magic are you experimenting with now?!”
Malcolm gritted his teeth as he grabbed a pencil off Charlie’s desk. “Look, I needed a place to start storing shit I can’t exactly hide in my room, so I thought I could make a pocket dimension, but I don’t really know if it’s stable yet. Now that you’re here, you can help me.”
Taylor set down the grimoire on Charlie’s desk, her news completely forgotten. Her glasses gleamed as she studied the portal with wide excited vivid purple eyes. “Gladly. Tell me, how did you create this dimension? I wasn’t aware you’d read Hugo Everette’s multi-verse theory. Did you actually just prove him right?”
“I mean, Enchanter Jakoby assigned that as an essay ages ago, but I wasn’t trying to break into another dimension, rather the space between dimensions.”
Taylor's mouth gaped open, her pointed ears twitching. “How, though?”
Malcolm walked up to the portal and placed part of the pencil in. “You know that moment in the Fade when you transition from one area to the next? There’s a similar dimension between our world and others. Kind of like insulation in the walls of a house.”
Taylor placed a delicate finger on her chin. “Yes, there’s a certain spike in the energy where you can feel the dimensional shift. There’s a lot of energy in liminal spaces such as portals. Could be an untapped source of power.” Taylor watched in interest as the pencil disappeared into the hole in the air.
Charlie just sat there gaping like a fish as his two friends continued to talk circles around him.
Malcolm took his hand away and the pencil just floated there, half of it gone. He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I thought that maybe I could keep stuff in between. Kind of like a portable suitcase.” He pulled out the pencil and it seemed just as normal as when he put it in.
Taylor snatched the pencil from him and balanced it in her fingers. “Fascinating, there’s a strange aura emanating from the matter. I’m not really sure what it is. Radiation?”
Malcolm shrugged again. “I have to do more testing to figure out how safe it is.”
Charlie was unable to say much at all. His knuckles whitened as he clutched the sheets of his bed, terrified.
Malcolm reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial of lyrium. “So I’m going to leave this in for twenty-four hours and, if the vial is still active after, I think I can safely put other things into it.”
Taylor gaped at the lyrium. “Where did you get that?” she asked.
Charlie’s eyes suddenly shifted uncomfortably to his hamper.
“This is leftover from when I still worked at the clinic,” Malcolm quickly lied. He cringed, knowing that he just hurt Honesty, but hopefully being honest with Charlie balanced things out. Malcolm started reaching for the portal.
“Wait, Malcolm, we should do some more testing-” Taylor widened her eyes, trying to stop Malcolm from putting his hand in but he already had.
The hair on Malcolm’s skin started to stand up. “Funny… It feels like… static electricity, I think. My hand is starting to go numb.”
Taylor yanked Malcolm’s hand out. “We don’t know how safe that is, you idiot!”
Malcolm looked at his empty hand. “Well, I guess now I just wait and see if I can take it out later.”
Taylor studied Malcolm’s hand carefully, trying to see if there was any damage. “You need to be more careful when testing new magic. You don’t know what’s going to happen with these things. I mean, you don’t even know what you made!”
Malcolm stared at the white hole in the air. “I think I found the Void.”
Taylor and Charlie’s mouths dropped. Taylor pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “How can you possibly know that?”
“I don’t.” Malcolm gritted his teeth, but there was something familiar about the energy. “I just feel it.”
Taylor and Charlie stared at the gaping hole, the energy was not quite malevolent, just devoid of life and love and everything. It had this sinking feeling, like quicksand. Like if they left it open for too long, the hole would just eventually absorb everything.
Malcolm stepped up to the portal. “Well, the only way to know for sure is if I look inside.”
“Malcolm, no!” Both Charlie and Taylor shouted at once.
Malcolm rolled his shoulders. “It’ll be fine. Taylor’s a great healer and it’ll only be a second.”
Taylor pulled at Malcolm’s shoulder. “Malcolm, if your head explodes, there’s not going to be a thing I can do.”
Malcolm smirked. “The pencil didn’t explode.”
Taylor jerked him back. “We haven’t tested living matter.”
Malcolm shoved her off. “That’s what this test is for, right?”
Charlie rose from his bed, waving his hands up in warning. “Dude, monumentally bad idea.”
Taylor pulled at her coils. “Ugh, Malcolm, if you die, I’m not going to shed a tear, you hear that?!”
Malcolm cracked the tension out of his neck, only feeling slightly nervous. “Noted.”
Malcolm wasn’t even sure why he was doing this. But he had this burning curiosity that couldn’t be sated. There was just something strange about the energy. Was there actually a world on the other side? What if he could escape through that hole?
Before Taylor or Charlie could stop him, Malcolm stuck his head into the portal. Immediately his skin felt licked with static, his face going numb and losing warmth. His eyes stung, but he kept them open to try to comprehend what he was seeing. And he just couldn’t. There was nothing. No color. No light. No sound except the blood rushing in his ears. He immediately gasped, which was a mistake. There was no air. His lungs collapsed. And suddenly he felt woozy, and the white void faded into darkness as he lost consciousness.
He felt Leandra’s lips on his, her strawberry flavor coating his tongue, along with the taste of blood. “Sinag, wake up! Please wake up!”
There was blood in his mouth, pouring out of his nose and tearing from his eyes. He couldn’t breathe from the liquid in his lungs, but still, he could see Leandra’s lovely face twisted up as tears hit his chest. His heart hurt to see her in so much pain. She shouldn’t care about him. She should just forget him.
“You can’t die! You can’t! I need you!”
But he could feel himself fading despite trying to hold on with all his might. He tried to grab Leandra’s hand, to let her know everything was going to be okay, but his fingers were too weak to move. His eyelids were heavy and they fluttered closed, sinking into darkness as Leandra screamed in his ears.
And then a voice that could only be described as alien and heavenly spoke. “My poor children. I’ve heard your tears. There’s nothing I can do in this lifetime, but perhaps in the next you can find happiness.”
Then Malcolm saw lifetimes passing by his eyes in seconds. He saw his mother’s face as her eyes teared up, welcoming him into the world. Growing up. Watching her be beaten. Trying to escape his father so many times. That terrible night when he’d finally been taken to the Circle. All his failed escape attempts, desperately trying to find his mother again. Being shipped to Kirkwall. Meeting Charlie, Taylor, and Carver. Realizing he was a Somniari and that his only chance at living a long life was to escape the Circle. Getting into lyrium dealing to start saving up for his eventual escape. Killing thousands of demons and spirits. Meeting Leandra and experiencing the greatest happiness. Realizing how wrong he was about the Fade and how he corrupted everything. Losing Leandra and letting her go. Now here he was, trying to learn to live without her, and everything seemed pointless.
Did he want to die? Is that why he’d been acting so recklessly? He was just existing, passing time and waiting for the end. Perhaps he wanted to speed things along.
Suddenly he gasped awake, coughing as air finally filled his lungs. He opened his eyes to find he was still in Charlie’s room. That vision of Leandra blinked behind his eyelids. What a strange dream.
Charlie crushed Malcolm to his chest, sobbing heavily. “Dude, why the fuck did you do that?” There was snot running down his nose. “I thought we lost you.”
Taylor was busy writing notes in her notebook. “I told you he’d be okay.”
Charlie wiped some snot with his sleeve. “You cried, too, when he passed out!”
Taylor ripped the page out of her notebook. “And then I healed him, and realized the jackass was fine and just passed out from shock.”
Malcolm rubbed his throbbing forehead. “How long was I out?”
“Probably close to an hour.” Taylor placed the page on Malcolm’s lap. “These were the calculations I made after creating my own Void. We tested with some live matter and honestly, Malcolm, you’re lucky passing out is all that happened.” Taylor opened up a Void portal and a dead mouse dropped out and plopped on the ground, twitching wildly for a few seconds before it finally stopped moving. “There is no oxygen in the Void, no matter at all for that reason. It actually seems like it will be excellent means for preservation, but it’s hostile to living life forms.”
Malcolm looked at Taylor’s notes. They told him how to make the Void bigger and more stable, Taylor’s best guess at what the Void was made up of, as well as notes on other things she’d tested and noticed in her observations about the mouse. It only took two seconds of being in the Void for the mouse to have a heart attack and die. Taylor was right. He was lucky to be alive.
"What did you see?" Taylor's eyes were eager and paying attention to Malcolm for the first time.
Malcolm blinked trying to remember. "Nothing. I saw nothing. Just a great big expanse of emptiness. It was definitely the Void."
“Unbelievable, and you just stuck your head in.” Taylor shook her head, her cloudy hair swaying. "Malcolm, you are the biggest dumbass I have ever met."
Charlie sniffed, wiping his wet face. “Seconded.”
Malcolm noticed that Taylor and Charlie were sitting rather close, their hands on top of each other casually. Malcolm raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Taylor… since when did you start coming to Charlie’s room at night?”
Taylor’s purple eyes widened and she sputtered, unable to say anything coherent.
Charlie snapped his hand from Taylor’s, as if he’d been burnt, and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “She just comes in and shares research she finds. It’s nothing weird.”
Malcolm narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “Uh-huh.”
Taylor retreated from Charlie, grabbing the grimoire off of Charlie’s desk. “Since Carver was arrested, I know Meredith is not going to find the real culprit. So, after I was forced to hand over all my research, I spent the last couple days recopying what I remembered, and then broke into the library and stole the Fell Grimoire back to finish decoding the Formless One’s spell.”
Malcolm’s jaw dropped. “You stole something? I think I actually respect you now.”
Taylor snorted. “I neither want nor ever needed your respect, Somniari.”
Then Malcolm’s jaw then fell to the floor. “Fuck. Y-you know-”
Taylor smiled confidently. “I know you have the power to help Charlie through his Harrowing.”
Malcolm tensed up as Charlie looked at him in confusion. “He can?” Charlie blinked at Malcolm.
Malcolm looked back at Charlie, determination in his eyes. “I can walk in dreams. I’ve been preparing for your Harrowing, waiting for the night that they take you. When they do, call for me.” Malcolm put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about, dude. Just trust that I have your back.”
Charlie looked down at his hands, an unsteady smile on his lips. “Okay, dude. Sure.”
Taylor’s full lips curved softly upwards in peace. She then pulled open the book to the Formless One’s entry and pointed to part of the writing. “I also know that Somniari blood is needed to both summon and bind the Forbidden Ones. And there’s more.” She brought the book back to face the boys, her glasses reflecting the runes of the surface. “The Fell Grimoire says that Emerius, the land Kirkwall was named when it was part of Tevinter, was built upon ancient sigils. This book claims that even the streets are designed so blood pools to the ancient seals underground the City, to further thin the Veil.”
Malcolm’s heart dropped to his stomach. “What for?”
Taylor’s voice quivered. “To bring the Forbidden Ones through.”
Charlie’s medium brown skin went completely pale. “Why would anyone want to do that?”
Taylor flipped through the end of the book. “I don’t know but they did try, and it was a disaster. Apparently, they spent ages trying to breed for a Somniari to be sacrificed but none survived to the awakening of their powers.” Taylor jabbed a finger at a couple of lines of text. “However, they found their Somniari in a slave and sacrificed him. The book is unclear on exactly what happened. There’s a time gap in the entries.” She flipped through the end of the book, showing how sparse the written records became. “When it picks up again, Emerius was completely destroyed. Apparently, almost everyone died. The Chantry had to come and pick up the pieces, and the newly established province was named Kirkwall. This research was deemed too dangerous and the Fell Grimoire was locked safely in the Circle’s vaults.”
Malcolm blinked, his head still pounding. “Fuck, that’s… fuck.”
Charlie nodded, his face blank with horror. “I don’t understand half the things you two talk about, but you’re scaring the shit out of me.”
Taylor looked at Malcolm. “You’re the Somniari. You’re still probably our best chance at finding this abomination before they Tranquilize all of us. Have you sensed anyone that feels off?”
Malcolm rubbed his chin, thinking back on strange encounters. “You know that one dude that always hangs out with Orsino feels creepy. Q-ball.”
Taylor nodded, her face grave. “I’ll start watching him and see if he’s acting suspicious.”
Malcolm gritted his teeth. He wasn’t sure if he should really be dragging Taylor into this, but it seemed like Taylor had somehow gotten in the middle without even trying. “Alright, I should head back to the dungeons before they catch me out of my cell.”
No sooner than he had finished speaking, the emergency alarm started blaring loudly, the air vibrating with sound. Malcolm jumped to his feet. “Oh, shit, they must have found my cell empty.” Malcolm dug through Charlie’s hamper and grabbed the bags he hid. “There’s no time to do more testing. They’re going to be tearing apart rooms now.”
Taylor raised her eyebrow. “What is that?”
“No fucking time for your big nose, Taylor. We gotta get out of here.” He opened another Void, stuffing the bags inside.
He grabbed Taylor’s hand to drag her out of the room when she said, “Wait, wait, wait, I need to hide the grimoire.”
Before Malcolm could ask how, Taylor had opened another Void portal, stuffed the grimoire inside, and then popped it shut just as fast. Then she shot Charlie a warning glance. “Get back in bed.” Her head snapped to Malcolm as she grabbed his hand. “We gotta go.”
Malcolm and Taylor both turned invisible as they exited Charlie’s room, the alarm still blaring.
Malcolm could see the faint distorted outline of Taylor in the hall. “You going to be okay getting back to your dorm?”
“Of course. Just hurry before they catch you,” she snapped back and then started dashing away back up the stairs.
Malcolm ran in the opposite direction. He made his way back into the dungeons and paused, having found Templar-Recruit Trudeau’s broken body on a bloody pile on the floor, his face contorted in horror similar to Matthew's. There was a crowd of Templars guarding Malcolm’s empty cell.
“Do not rest until you find him. He’s killed a Templar on watch.” Templar-Luitenant Jiminez ordered the two other Templars away, and they split off in opposite directions, aiming their guns at the shadows.
Malcolm’s heart sunk. A Templar was killed while he’d been missing? Malcolm didn’t know how he was going to get out of this one.
He closed his eyes, falling asleep slightly so he could reach into the Fade. He connected to each of the Templar’s minds and muddied them, so they didn’t notice Malcolm walk past them and back into his cell,locking the door behind him. And then Malcolm hooked his Fade strings deep and twisted them, rewriting their minds so they didn’t remember he was missing. The Templars blinked blankly, unsure of why they were even standing outside of Malcolm’s cell in the first place.
That’s when Meredith came marching down the stairs of the dungeon, her shrill voice ringing the halls. “Where is the elf?! How could you lose him?!”
Luitenant Jiminez blinked at Meredith. “What? Who did we lose?”
“Hawke!” Meredith’s voice boomed against the stone.
The Templars all looked at each other in confusion. Luitenant Jiminez pointed at the cell. “But Hawke’s been in there the whole time.”
“Then why did you report him missing from count?”
The brown Templar was thoroughly confused. “I reported him missing?”
Malcolm gritted his teeth, considering rewriting Meredith’s memories too, but the more he messed with people’s minds the more chances someone would find out about his Somniari powers. And he couldn’t be sure, given Meredith’s paranoia, that she wouldn’t be able to see through his strings. Malcolm tried to think of a cover instead and like most of his plans, he quickly pulled down his pants.
“How could you all be so careless! Hawke is dangerous, cunning! You can’t underestimate him for a sec-” She opened the door to Malcolm’s cell to find him squatting over the hole that served as his toilet, taking a shit.
Malcolm groaned, playing up his annoyance. “You always have impeccable timing, Stannard.”
Meredith marched up to Malcolm, red-faced. “Where were you? How did you kill Trudeau?”
Malcolm narrowed his eyes, farting loudly. “I was here the whole time and I didn’t kill Trudeau.”
Meredith went red, her blue eyes popping with blood vessels. “That’s it, elf! This is enough suspicion for me to have you Tranquilized and believe me I’m going to enjoy doing it.”
That’s when all the Templar’s walkie-talkies went off at once. “Please note, apprentice Getran Becker was not found during tonight’s bed check. We believe we have a runaway on our hands.”
Malcolm’s heart sunk. Getran Becker was just a stupid sixteen-year-old elven kid who barely knew life. Meredith was going to use this chance to destroy him.
Meredith snapped up, a bloodthirsty smile on her lips. “I guess we have a hunt, boys.”
Malcolm wiped his ass, quickly pulling up his pants as he stood up. “Wait, Stannard. You know that’s just a kid who’s scared shitless. This is his first offense. Don’t throw the whole book at him.”
“My men are dying. This mage is a risk I cannot tolerate.” Meredith glared at him, her blue eyes cold and merciless. “If you’re not careful, I’ll make room for two brandings in my schedule tonight.”
Malcolm gulped, his eyes cast downwards. He knew he was hanging by a thread, and he wasn’t eager to cut the string.
Meredith’s heavy heels marched away, as she smirked gleefully. “We’re going to keep you in here until it breaks you, Hawke, and I’m going to enjoy seeing you broken.”
And then she slammed the door shut and locked him back inside.
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