bethen avilla ; the circle mage (bethe) wrote in thedas,
It wasn't until the fifth time someone came up to congratulate her that the words "thank you" didn't seem to tumble from her mouth quite so awkwardly. Later on, she heard some apprentices gossiping around a corner, carrying on much louder than they thought. They didn't see her as she peered around the corner to see who was speaking, and though she knew quite well how completely unethical and childish it was to eavesdrop, she couldn't help but continue standing there. Well, did it count if she just happened to be there, filing books at the same time as they were having their conversation? After all, there was no such thing as real privacy here.
She slowly slid the book in her hand back into its space, careful not to make too much noise. Perhaps, they whispered, Bethen was just being irritatingly modest as usual, or maybe she hadn't even gone through her Harrowing at all, and it was some conspiracy rigged by First Enchanter Irving. Everyone knew she was one of his pet pupils. The words stung more than they should have. True enough, she'd never been exactly "popular" with her peers -- she'd never been invited to one of these little rumor mongering sessions, and she spent many of her open hours alone with books, but what they were saying, even if it was facetious, was deeply hurtful.
Beth had earned her right to be a mage, and no matter how much favor and sympathy she drew from Irving for sentimental reasons, she'd accomplished a task that they barely had a clue about. By the Maker, did she want to go over there and scream at them, tell them what fighting off a demon was like, what people became when they couldn't, and how much carnage those twisted beings could leave behind if those meant to stop it failed at their own task.
But she didn't. Bethen just felt the anger swell in her chest as she walked briskly toward the opposite side of the room, and tried to bury her frustration with thoughts about where the next volume went. Her forced concentration was so great that she had barely noticed the Templar positioned at the nearby pillar. She paused when he addressed her, tensed at the sight of the armor first, but relaxed when she realized it was only Alderic. It was an odd concept to for a mage to call any templar friend, and equally the other way around. And while they weren't quite casual companions, their relationship was a lot more amicable and familiar with one another than most were between the two groups. Bethen respected almost all of the Templars, but she felt a certain kinship with him in particular, if only because his interest in dusty old tomes rivaled hers.
Though it didn't come easy, Beth managed to make a crooked smile at him, even quirked a brow at his last choice of phrasing, "Impressively? I would think it hard to judge from an outsider's perspective." There was an edge to her voice that she didn't realize until after she'd said it. She frowned, her irritation at the apprentices turning quickly into shame at herself. Alderic didn't deserve to be snapped at when he was being perfectly polite. "That...didn't come out right, I'm sorry. I just mean that it must not be very exciting for everyone else, waiting around for someone to wake up. Thank you, though." This time, her smile seemed just a little more genuine, if not sheepishly apologetic. She stepped past him to the unsorted pile of books on a nearby table that needed her attention.
"So... You've been to them before, haven't you? Harrowings, I mean," asked Beth in a quiet voice, briefly glancing up at him with curiosity between reading covers. The way he'd said it sounded almost as if he'd been there, or at least his use of adjective caused her to wonder if he'd expected something different. "Have you ever...and stop me if this is too, uh, personal," she paused again, not really sure whether that was a good word to be using. Tongues were already wagging about her in one respect. Their conversations were usually harmless enough, mostly about books, but talking about one's experiences in a ceremony that was regarded with such secrecy was a very different kind of conversation that she wasn't sure she was even allowed to be having. Nevertheless, Beth couldn't help but push on, "Have you ever had one go wrong?"