[ When he wakes, it's with the small hope that yesterday had been a dream, but he's never been quite that lucky. Quite the opposite, in fact. He notes the changes in his cell, and with effort, he moves to curl himself into the bed, wrapping the blankets tightly around himself. He ignores the tray of food -- too often in Tevinter did his fellow mages take to poisoning or magicking food and drink, and in a situation like this, that memory rises to the surface.
He still tries to call up his magic, tries for a flame, a burst of lightning, anything -- but to no avail. The best he manages is a chunk of ice, not much larger than an ice cube, and with a sigh, he pops it into his mouth. He thinks bitterly, at least he'll be able to stay hydrated.
There's not much he can do beyond that than wait. ]
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He still tries to call up his magic, tries for a flame, a burst of lightning, anything -- but to no avail. The best he manages is a chunk of ice, not much larger than an ice cube, and with a sigh, he pops it into his mouth. He thinks bitterly, at least he'll be able to stay hydrated.
There's not much he can do beyond that than wait. ]