(Warning: self harm via blood magic.)
Despite what her clan, or Anders, or Fenris, or anyone else thought of her, Merrill was not stupid. She did not misuse blood magic. She could not be tempted by any demon, like one aforementioned broody Elf. All schools of magic can be mastered, and Merrill had performing blood magic down to a science. Taking a dagger from her side and putting it against her already scared left wrist, she gently applied just enough pressure to cut the skin, Merrill the brought the dagger across the width of her wrist to get the desired amount of blood. She needed the perfect amount; having to account for the difference in the power of blood and lyrium. When she had enough she bandaged her arm to keep blood from going where it wasn’t supposed to. It would likely heal by the time she was done with the ritual.
Using her blood to power her magic, she began to repair the Eluvian. She had to keep her mind clear and emotions in check, or else she might attract the unwanted attention of demons. Feeling happiness with her progress could attract a powerful Pride demon. Wanting it to be done could attract a Desire demon. Frustration with the slow pace: Rage. Get tired? Sloth. Anxious? Fear. She had some trouble before, but nothing she couldn't’t handle, and this time Merrill had accounted for everything, and was sure no demons would bother her this—groooowwl. Had she forgotten to eat today?
You hunger… Came a low, brooding, sinister disembodied voice. Many in this place hunger…
Merrill knew it was a Hunger demon. It made itself very obvious that was what it was, but she also recognized the voice and presence of it from the one Hawke’s party had encountered in the Deep Roads. She immediately stopped the ritual to keep it from fully breaking through the Veil while it was weak, and to keep from attracting any other demons. “It’s fine. I’ll go to the market and get some bread later.” Merrill said, trying to dismiss the demon. It would leave her alone if it didn’t think it could tempt her with food or cunsomption.
Bread? Flour, water, yeast; mixed together and baked. So simple, so dull, and it is what you and many in this place have every day. If you have anything at all. Don’t you want more? You could all have so much more…
All the Elves in the Alienage were fairly poor, and some days would go without eating, and this demon knew it. There was the possibility that it had always lingered here, pressing against the other side of the Veil, and all of Merrill’s magic had only made it weaker. “Oh, no, really, bread is fine. I like to watch it rise when they bake it. It makes me think of a big brown wave rising over the horizon.” If she could get the subject far enough away from hunger and food the demon would lose interest and go. Then her stomach growled again.
Bread is such a deceitful food. It gets bigger, promising you more food, but it fills itself with empty space. Don’t be like bread. Don’t let yourself be filled up by EMPTY space. FILL YOURSELF.
Merrill put her hands against her head over her ears, pressing against it hard. She could feel the demon clawing, digging, and worming away at her mind, trying to get her to do what it wanted. The constant sound of her belly grumbling for food didn’t help either. “That’s good…I don’t want to eat too much…” Merrill struggled to speak her own words.
Too much? There is NO SUCH THING. These are things you and the others in this place tell yourselves. That something is enough. That something is too much. There is only more. And MORE. AND MORE. AND MOOOORE!!! Why not have more? Won’t you let yourself have more? Don’t you deserve it? To be full? To have more?
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
