Nothing, nothing, nothing. They'd been over the entire area again and again and they could find no evidence of Elden; no footprints in the snow, no broken branches, nothing! Where could he have gone? The scouts were spreading out, covering as much area as they could, but there wasn't much Dorian himself could do.

Dorian was pacing back and forth, filled with too much energy with nothing to expend it on. Tracking wasn't exactly his area of expertise no matter how much he'd picked up during their travels so all he could really do was wait for the scouts to find something and he'd never felt so useless.

Really it was the not knowing that was the worst of it. He was cycling wildly between fury and terror, trying to convince himself that this all must be a mistake, that Elden must have simply wandered off and deserved a talking to for worrying everyone. But he knew that couldn't be true. Elden would never want to worry anyone this way.

"How had the Inquisitor seemed to you?" Dorian called out to Cassandra as she passed by on her way to check in with the scouts. He tried to pretend not to notice how desperate he sounded.

"Same as always," Cassandra said. "There was no indication that anything was wrong. I highly doubt he had planned on wandering off."

"Fantastic," Dorian muttered, trying to ignore the ache in his chest.

It didn't help that he couldn't shake the image of how Elden had last looked at him from his mind. He'd been crushed, so hurt and betrayed that Dorian could tell him that he didn't care. What if that was the last thing he'd ever get to say to Elden?

"Over here!"

He spun around as the scout called out and all but ran towards them, everyone else in the area hurrying to join them. The scout was holding up a green thread that Dorian recognized immediately from Elden's scarf.

"We're on the right track," Cassandra said, urgently.

Dorian caught the grim look on her face as they marched on and knew they were both thinking the same thing. It was all too likely that Elden had been captured and was attempting to leave a trail for them to follow. Dorian couldn't help but feel proud, knowing Elden had managed this even under duress, but it existed as evidence that Elden had not simply wandered off. That his life was in danger.

The next several hours were aggravating, one moment floundering around, terrified they'd lost the trail entirely, only to discover a clue a short time later. And they were heading ever closer to Emprise du Lion, where they knew the Red Templars had dug in. They continued up into the mountains in silence, none of them voiced their concerns out loud, as if that might somehow prevent it from being real.

That's when they found it, the mass of footprints in the snow and a hastily abandoned camp, some sort of chaos apparently erupting in the ranks and leaving them to decide it was pointless or at least no longer necessary to continue covering their tracks. Dorian couldn't help but feel hopeful, perhaps Elden had escaped? He broke into a sprint, following the chaotic tracks, coming to a skidding halt when he spotted the crimson spilled across the snow. Blood.

Dorian couldn't breathe. He knew that it didn't necessarily mean it was Elden's. Perhaps he'd even managed to kill most of his attackers. But then, where were the bodies? And why wasn't Elden here? Why hadn't he returned to them? None of this was looking good. He glanced up and made eye contact with Cassandra, her expression no doubt the same as his and he felt cold and helpless and desperate but there was nothing to do but continue.

As they got higher up into the mountains, they discovered trails and pathways that the Venatori and Templars appeared to use frequently and the knowledge that they'd become that entrenched was unsettling. And they were running out of sunlight, no way they could search the entire area before the dark forced them to set up camp, and then they'd risk getting ambushed. Not to mention that their hope of finding Elden alive dropped with every hour that passed.

Cassandra ordered many of the others to split up to cover more ground and Dorian was uncomfortably aware of the lack of clues from Elden letting them know they were headed in the right direction and what that likely meant. Dorian was beginning to lose hope, feeling chilled to the bone and not able to muster the energy for a warming spell. A storm was moving in, the snowflakes gentle for the moment but the clouds were dark with the promise of more, although even with just this the footprints they were following would be obscured soon enough.

He was barely paying attention, lost in his own thoughts, when he collided with Blackwall who had stopped in front of him. Dorian was prepared to say something no doubt witty and seething when he caught his to follow his gaze, the saw that the path they were on dropped steeply into a valley and there, in the center, was a crumbling ruin.

Dorian felt a surge of hope at the sight, but quickly reminded himself that there was no guarantee that Elden was even here. Still, it was in keeping with everything Dorian knew about Tevinters that they would do something as dramatic as imprison an enemy in a place as atmospheric as this.

"As soon as they spot us, the Inquisitor's life will be in danger," Cassandra said to them, voice low. "We need to get as close as we can without alerting them, then split up to cover as much ground as possible."

The increasingly heavy snowfall as well as the waning light was excellent cover as they made their way into the valley. A handful of scouts immediately broke off to ensure there were no Venatori keeping lookout in the nearby hills that might spot them as they continued their approach.

Dorian was hyper aware of every sound they made, every time he stumbled in the deep snow, every clink of heavy armor on Cassandra, Blackwall, and a few of the scouts. Thankfully the guards didn't hear them until it was too late. Vivienne easily froze one while Cole took out the other, silent as always. And then they were spreading out, searching every corner of the ruin, hoping to catch any Venatori by surprise or, better yet, find Elden.

Dorian sprinted down a corridor, glancing into side rooms as he went, feeling like he could barely breathe. He wanted to call out Elden's name but that would definitely get him killed. As he came around a corner into a wide room, he spotted a figure crouching on top of a table and he slid to a halt, staff at the ready.

The figure was twitching unsettlingly as it turned towards him with agonizing slowness and there was no mistaking the telltale red glow that came from it. A Templar infected with red lyrium. And as it turned around, stepped slightly to the side giving him a proper view of the table, Dorian felt like the floor had been pulled out from under him, a cold terror swallowing him whole. It had been crouched over a body spread out on the table, makeshift restraints around wrists and ankles, and even in the dim light Dorian could recognize Elden.

The templar regained his attention when it opened its mouth and let out a decidedly inhuman screech, it's teeth chipped and broken, some even replaced with sharp red fangs. It shuddered and twitched violently in a disturbingly unnatural manner, more red spikes of lyrium bursting from under his skin and Dorian tried not to retch at the sight. Its joints seemed all wrong as it stood to its full height, suddenly leapting at him with startling speed, what was left of its arms replaced with spears of lyrium that it raised them, ready to attack.

Taken by surprise, Dorian barely got his staff up in time, knocking the attack aside. He felt a cold terror run up his spine not from the horrific sight but from the fear that someone could have heard it or the sounds of their battle and it would give them all away. He summoned up all the magic he could and released a bolt of electricity that caused it to fly back. It's body twitched a few times after it hit the ground, most of the crystals shattered, and finally it lay still.

Dorian practically leapt over the body, rushing to Elden's side. This close he could tell he was breathing, thank the Maker, but he was so pale. He'd been stripped of his armor, his shirt torn at the bottom and Dorian could see a hastily applied bandage, blood seeping through and in desperate need of changing lest the injury become infected. He pressed the back of his hand to Elden's forehead, feeling the fever there, as he took his hand and squeezed gently. Elden's eyes fluttered open, but it wasn't relief Dorian saw in his expression.

"No," Elden repeated over and over again, voice harsh from either disuse or strain. "No, please, not you, you can't be here!"

"Shh, amatus," Dorian said, moving to brush a hand against his check, but pulled back again in surprise when Elden flinched away. "I'm going to get you out of here."

"No, I can't— not again, please," Elden said, voice desperate. "Bring my brother back, please, anything but this. I understand what you wanted to show me, so please, don't make me go through this again, I can't."

He barely seemed to register anything Dorian was saying, tugging desperately at his restraints and Dorian hurried to undo them before he could do anymore damage to himself, although his wrists were already raw. While there were no tears now, there were tracks down his face, evidence that he had been crying.

"Please," Elden said, addressing him now instead of some unknown presence. "Please don't."

"Shh, amatus," Dorian said as soothingly as he could, feeling his heart break. "I'm getting you out of here."

"No," Elden said sadly, even as Dorian urged him to sit up. "You'll go soon enough, they all do."

"Look at me," Dorian said, taking Elden's face in his hands, pressing his forehead to his and wishing there was more he could do, wishing he could have stopped this from ever happening. "You're safe now. Can you stand?"

Elden sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before nodding.

"Good. Let's get you out of here."