Ghost Story

[Bethany]

Beth's face scrunches up as she tries to figure that one out. Finally giving up, she wriggles around until she can see her twin's face without uncurling from around Car's hand. "Okay? What are'ya then?"

[Carver Amell]

"'ma boy," mumbles Car. "Always been a boy. Inside. Thought if I cut the baby parts out I'd be a boy outside too."

[Bethany]

Beth glares at him. "Not nife!" She huffs loudly. "You can be a boy but no more knives. Promise," she demands, voice cracking as she finds a few more tears from somewhere. "Promise, ma'win."

[Carver Amell]

"Promise," he whispers. "But you gotta help me be a boy."

[Bethany]

"Deal," Beth says instantly, tension flowing out of her. She never even considers the possibility he might break his promise. Not to her. "Umm. How? I mean... Trousers and stuff I guess?"

[Carver Amell]

"I don't know. They said I can't," he whimpers.

[Bethany]

"Well I say yes can. So there."

[Carver Amell]

"La'a," he whispers. "La'a."

From now on I won't say Carol anymore, just Car. I'm gonna be the best twin in the world.

[Varric]

Sage, Stone and Sons of Bitches. I am not liking where (no nife, have mercy) this seems to be leading. People can be right (evil) assholes about things that're new or different all over but a small, isolated and conservative town like this? Fuck. Not sure why it's the younger girl that ends up a ghost though. Admittedly, it's entirely possible all three kids (Car, Bethie and Mar; Mary?) are dead but only she lingered. Maybe the last to die? Rubbing his forehead tiredly, Varric closes the diary and stares at the wisps of blue and teal steam rising from his brew. As tempting as it is to keep reading-- or skim ahead-- he eventually shakes himself and locates his mortar and 'petal" to work the next step.

[Marian Hawke]

A short time later, Emma comes back in, proud of herself. "It's still glowing, just like you said," she begins, speaking of the anchor stone that's the focus of the ritual. "Not bad for my first bit of magic ever."

[Varric]

The dwarf doesn't look away from the slowly building froth in his pewter cauldron. "First bit? First deliberate maybe."

[Marian Hawke]

"Huh?" Emma asks, blankly. 

[Varric]

"That was your first deliberate use of magic, not your first ever," he repeats, most of his attention on the exact height of the shivering bubbles.

[Marian Hawke]

"No, it was my first ever. I don't know any other rituals and I don't have any magic."

[Varric]

"No spells, maybe, but you got the talent."