Daress' sleep was barely disturbed at all by the dawn bell, and lasted well into the morning. At some point, she heard a knock on her door. Her head pounded at the sound like they had been knocking against her skull instead. She buried her head into her pillow and drew her covers closer to her. She mumbled out something, not even sure what she said. They left her alone. The sleep was heavenly, but even it had to end. The sounds of the day got more and more, and she couldn’t block it out forever. Well rested, she opened her eyes. As consciousness came to her, she felt her head pounding and her face like a brick of congestion. It was a cold, and it had come on her fast. Her skin still smelled like the sea. She arrived at the strong opinion that she didn’t like the smell. She dragged herself and her pounding head out of her bed, feet touching the floor. It was still wet from the night before, and the shock of the cold sensation almost had her retreat to the warmth of her bed again. Her head pounded too much to even conceive of mopping it now. She wished she were still asleep, as being awake was worse now than she could remember in recent history. The events of the night before haunted her. She focused in her mind, but couldn’t connect to whatever it was that had spoken to her in the night. All the same, there was a deep hunger inside her, closer to starvation than anything else. She pulled on her black robes for the day and took her veil in hand. She realized her shoes were currently missing. Thankfully, she had a second pair for such situations and slipped them on. They were much less comfortable than her older sandals, now lost. She held onto the furniture and the wall as she navigated the distance to the door so as not to slip. The hallway had already gotten a mopping since she had fallen asleep. She had no idea what time it was, she realized. She looked up at the tower the Orphanage was snug into and noted the clock showing that it was mid-afternoon. It had a good sleep indeed. How she hadn’t been yelled at, she couldn’t know. Perhaps she had said something when there was that knock. That was right. Perhaps they could tell that she was not well. As she passed Arturri’s room, she heard him hiss a whisper at her through the door. “Psst,” he called. She considered carrying on, but slowed. She would be cordial, even with her head pounding and her hungry heavy feeling. “What do you want?” she asked him, finding her voice hoarse. “You left a mess last night,” he said to her. “Where did you go in the middle of the night? Up to mischief?” “No,” Daress told him, offended at the suggestion. “I went to the grotto. It is within my rights to do so.” “You went for a swim in it?” he said, surprised. She shrugged, “I did,” she said, only half lying. Her words were followed immediately by a sneeze she hid into her elbow. It made her head’s pounding up-tempo. He laughed, “Well what good it did you.” “If that is all,” she said. She was too sniffling to engage. “Yes, yes. Go… Leave me to my misery." The boy was very melodramatic. "Wait, are you going to the library today?” Daress became suspicious. “Why?” “I’m so dreadfully bored already. Could you grab me a book?” The question caught Daress off guard. No one had asked her for a book before. Nadira never had the slightest interest. “What do you like to read?” She asked carefully, as if he was trying to fool her. “Something where the good guy wins," he decided. "I miss that.” “I’ll make an effort,” she said, surprising herself. She hadn't expected to do anything at all for Arturri's benefit. But she couldn't deny a fellow reader. “Thank you,” he replied. Daress moved on, her eyes watering and with her hander kerchief close at hand. Her hunger was too distracting. She stopped by the mess hall. There was a bit of the daily bread and soup, and she took a big bowl full and dug in. She ripped into the bread, tearing strips of it to dip into the soup. She swallowed big dollops of soup, almost drinking it. Things did taste different, more vibrant. And by the end, she was bloated and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. But even that wasn't enough. That drive to feed was still on her mind. She decided she felt that way from being sick. Daress would help out in the kitchens every few days. She poked her head in as she was giving in her plate to wish them a good day. The cook was large and brash, with a good heart. Daress had been frightened of him first, but grown used to him since her arrival. His black robes always looked a little too tight in places, and he was bald on top of his head. He never bothered with a veil, since he was always in the kitchen. Assistants in the kitchens, like Daress, would bring in some ingredients from town for him. He never needed to go out. “You don’t look well at all,” the man said. “I’m not,” she said. “Can you tell the matron that I’m sick?” There was no chance Daress could deal with Leliana at that moment. She hadn't the will to cope. He agreed, and Daress soon parted from him. From there, she made her way down the sloped path towards the market. All the noises seemed so loud today. Too loud. The colours mingling were offensive to her eyes. At least her robes were warm. Wearing down the veil had a way of trapping the heat of her head. It was her only comfort that she felt so far that day. Unfortunately, it meant her nose was about to run the entire journey. At the market, she found the voices too overwhelming in close proximity, but she wouldn't retreat for that. Although the Eazu could heal, she didn’t have the kind of money for it. Having magic used on them was thought, by some, to be hypocritical for Orphans. The Sedralogues would win her patronage that day. At their stalls, there were several different healing herbs for sale. It was a bit more up to chance than the Eazu, but the price made their salves the obvious choice. The Sedralogue in their green were very respectful and awkward towards her. She made her wordless selection, placing her hand on each item and then passing over the money for them. The mystery element of Orphans worked well in the marketplace. It was hard to hear one another anyways. She came away with a vapour rub, some eucalyptus, tea leaves, and some vitamin concentrate. Having the new items wrapped in a small brown bag made her feel optimistic. She was going to get well soon, she told herself, and she felt a little better. The haul was cheaper than she had anticipated, too, so she thought she might spend a bit more while she was out there. She had to replace her shoes and shawl. She held her arms close to herself as she walked for conserving heat, but she felt that she could start shaking if she got any colder. She went to the Dar Yi stalls. Quality items and garments levitated above her, and she looked for a clothing merchant. Fine silks and threads spooled in the air in all colours. Some were being made in mid-air before the crowds. She watched one isolated spool of black thread doing little spins like it was endlessly rolling itself up. It was almost hypnotising to see the fraying end of the string loop around. As she stared at it, it seemed to slow down in its spinning. It fell out of the air. The sudden effect of gravity confounded her. She bent and picked it up. The shopkeeper who owned it came out from behind her stall, very apologetic. They immediately put it back into the air, like releasing a bird. Daress nodded to them, not really looking at them at all. She was barely able to take her eye off the spool, but once it was back in the air she looked away. Something in its falling shook her. She could tell the shopkeeper had been a little unsettled as well. From growing up Kopkin, Daress knew that to lose magic meant you had angered the ancestors. For a spell not to work, you hadn’t connected to it properly. But the enchantment that had put the spool into the air had been working fine until then. She sneezed like a mouse and righted herself once again. Her mysterious facade destroyed. She was being silly. The shopkeeper just needed to have a better connection, was all. She asked for a black shawl and a pair of shoes from them, and they happily obliged. The incident was quickly put behind them. As soon as Daress paid the merchant, she left in a hurry. Before she could get out of Dar Yi space, a different shopkeeper dropped a spoon from the air which almost struck her nose. Daress closed her eyes. Two in a row. A very bad omen. It nagged at her. She had a dreadful feeling in her gut that it had to do with her, although she couldn’t explain how. She had one possible explanation, as outlandish as it might seem. The cause could have been whatever spirit was within her. There was one piece of circumstantial evidence to back it up. That was since the spool and the spoon's falling, that nagging sensation of hunger in her had disappeared. It could mean nothing, she told herself, but she didn't believe it. She couldn’t understand it, but it frightened her. She held her parcels close to her chest, as if it might contain her thoughts of the thing inside. It was enough messing around. She would go straight back home, banish whatever spirit had come to her, and be done with it. Then she could have a good long rest to rid herself of the cold, and deal with her normal life again. The thought didn't excite her as much as she thought it might. But even if it wasn’t the spirit, she continued while on her stroll home, it was better safe than sorry. There was no reason as far as she could tell to let it stay within her. She remembered it had said that it was hungry. And no longer had she that ravenous sensation that food couldn’t satisfy. She wondered what it was it must eat. Once back at home, she popped into the kitchens first to grab a pot of hot water to bring upstairs with her. She threw her veil onto her bed and changed from her robes into her comfy clothes for rest. She applied some vapour rub onto her chest and neck and added the leaves to the pot to make the tea. Then, prepared, she picked up the book on banishments. She could do this, she told herself. But the book cover sat, motionless. Her hand rest on its edge. She didn’t open it yet. She wanted to think this through. Nothing bad had happened. Really, what could something like that be capable of? If all it could do was disturb utensils, she might be alright. It had, after all, saved her at the grotto. What had happened in the market? Did it disconnect the magic from the object? Against her better judgement, she realized how useful that sort of ability could be. After all, the Kopkin were able to stop some magical effects, but that was only a deflection or a delaying of them. This seemed like something different. Something that no one had ever heard before. At least, she had never heard of it. It could be irresponsible to banish it without any further information. She opened and closed her bedside box of matches in thought, the book laying before her. Then she closed the matches and moved the book back to its spot. She brought herself to a stand. That was right, she recalled. Arturri had asked for a book, hadn’t he? She was due to go to the library today anyways. And besides, the book would always be there later on. She could get rid of it whenever she felt like it. There was no reason to rush into these things. What was called for, now, she told herself, was research.