DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything, Dragon Age is not mine. The characters, game content and materials in the following story are copyrighted to BioWare. Neither I, nor this story, are endorsed by or affiliated with BioWare, or its licensors or subsidiaries. I do not receive any monetary compensation from the publication of this narrative. All Rights Reserved.

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Chapter 2: Shadows in the Dark

"With passion'd breath does the darkness creep.
It is the whisper in the night, the lie upon your sleep."
Transfigurations 1:5

..~~~**~~~..

"Captain, I found a missing persons report matching the description you gave," the young woman says, standing in the doorway, waiting to be acknowledged.

"Excellent work, thank you Guardsman," Aveline says, taking the report. "Guardsman, this can't be the right report," she says after a quick review of the folder.

"Captain?"

"This report is six years old."

"It is the only report fitting the description you gave," the guard protested.

"Very good. Dismissed," Aveline says, returning her attention to the report. She pours over the details and can make out only a couple of notes before leaning back in her seat. After a moment of thought, she heads for the archives; her gut is telling her that there must be more information somewhere.

..~~*~~..

With a heavy bag slung over his shoulder, Sebastian walks into Anders' clinic. His blue eyes scan the large room for blonde haired healer.

"Brother Sebastian, I'm surprised to see you," a middle aged woman says. She wipes her hands on a heavily soiled apron before hooking a stray strand of her red hair behind her ear.

"It's good to see you, Midge. The Chantry is conducting a charity drive. I thought your clinic could use some the blankets that were brought in," Sebastian explains as he offers her the large bag he brought with him.

"Thank you! This will indeed come in handy," Midge says with extreme gratitude.

"Is Anders around?"

"No, he left a couple of hours ago with Messere Hawke. I don't know where they went and I don't know when he'll be back. If you'll excuse me, I'll just put these in the back room."

"Here, let me help," Sebastian says as he lifts the heavy bag and follows her into a small room. Sebastian sets down the bag and looks around the room which is obviously used for storage and the production of poultices and salves. Midge thanks him again and begins unpacking the bag as Sebastian observes a young girl sitting in the corner working away with a mortar and pestle to grind something into powder .

"Well, hello there," he says in a friendly tone, casually approaching the child. "I don't think I've ever seen you before." He crouches down in front of her. "My name's Sebastian. What's your name?"

She looks up at him with her big, dark eyes, but says nothing.

"She doesn't speak. Hasn't said a word in the two weeks she's been here. Anders can't find anything physically preventing her from talking…" she shrugs. "He's been calling her Madia."

"Madia?"

"After his mother."

"That's a beautiful name," he says to the girl. She smiles, but the sadness in it touches him. "Does your family live around here?" She simply averts her gaze, a haunting look in her dark eyes.

"We're starting to think she might be an orphan. In the time she's been here no one has come looking for her. It's sad really," Midge says, watching Madia return to her task of pulverizing elfroot.

"I could ask around the Chantry, if you would like. Perhaps someone has been asking after her," he offers as he rises to his feet.

"If you think it will help, I'll not turn down aid when offered."

"Why is she staying here in the clinic?" Sebastian asks.

"The last time someone suggested she go the Chantry she ran off in a panic. It took us hours to find her."

"But Darktown is such a dangerous place."

"More children are born into poverty than into privilege," Midge argues almost defensively.

"Sadly true. Let Anders know I'll be back in a few days with more provisions."

..~~*~~..

Aveline spends the rest of the day and a good portion of her night searching through the reports of missing children in the Archivist's office within the Keep. It breaks her heart to see how many children are reported and how few are found. She narrows her search to those documents with similar details to those in the report Guardsman Nevil found, but that still left her with over a hundred reports. She sighs with frustration and leans back in the chair. She isn't even sure what she is looking for. All she has is a feeling in her gut that something is wrong.

"Aveline, you're becoming just like Ser Emric-looking for connections where none exist," she scolds herself while looking at the mound of reports before her. She had just decided to give up and call it a night when something catches her eye on the top report.

The 15th of Verimensis, it was the same date on the report she was brought that morning. She rifled through a few more reports and found that date again, and again, and yet again. She finds thirteen total reports in which children had been reported missing on the 15th of Verimensis, and all from the Chantry. They all matched in age and general description. If her hunch is correct, she only has eight days before another child would be reported missing.

Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong here.

..~~*~~..

The cold doesn't bother Fenris. As far as he can remember it never has, but this is colder than his room should be. His bed is far too hard, it's as if he's sleeping on a rock. His eyes gradually open to a dark room, but then they slip back close. Something isn't right. His body doesn't feel right. It feels heavy and unresponsive, his mouth is dry, and he can't focus his thoughts. The terrifying thought that he's been drugged fills his muddled brain. He tries to sit up, and bumps his head on something hard. Confused he forces his eyes open and with great effort manages to focus them to investigate his surroundings. What he sees alarms him and forces the cobwebs from his brain-metal bars. He's in a cage. The damp, cold air and the smell of rock and dirt combined with the salt of the sea betray his location. He's in a holding cave, somewhere on the Wounded Coast.

"No!" he shouts in utter disbelief. The cage is barely large enough to allow him room to sit. The animal in him grabs the cage door and yanks it in an attempt to force it open. His armor and weapon are gone, leaving him in only his smallclothes.

He must have been drugged! How did they catch him? When was he drugged? And by whom? These are only a few of the thousands of questions running through his head as he tries to force the door open. This cage is bolted to the cave wall and floor, meaning his captors will have to move him at some point, and when that happens he will strike. He will do so without mercy or hesitation.

A sudden, heart stopping fear grips him in its icy grasp as a large black shadow with large glowing white eyes approaches. Its shape is vaguely humanoid, but not defined enough for Fenris to be certain.

"Now, now, there's no need for that," the shadow soothes in a deep, distorted voice. It smiles, revealing a mouth full of bright white fangs that flash in the dark. Fenris feels an overwhelming sense of desperation, and the need to put as much distance between him and shadow would not be ignored. He finds himself trying to back away, pressing his back into the bars with bruising force despite himself.

"Let's see that pretty face of yours," the shadow says, reaching through the cage as if the bars didn't exist to tenderly cup Fenris' face in its ice cold hand.

Fenris can't stop starring at the shadow's white glowing eyes. He can feel an impossibly cold thumb move across his cheek. Fenris breaks out into a cold sweat as terror is knotting his stomach and filling his mouth with a bitter taste.

"So perfect…so pure." The shadow's thumb adoringly runs over his lips. "If you're good and do as you're told you can go home. Do you want to go home?"

Fenris cannot find his voice; his rage fails him and he finds himself paralyzed with fear. He knows what the shadow wants from him. He had vowed long ago to never again submit and yet now he finds himself nodding in compliance.

"So sweet," the shadow says, pulling Fenris from the cage and leading him deeper into the cave.

"NO!" Fenris shouts, shredding his blankets as he leaps out of the bed. His room is bathed in a pale blue glow from the lyrium etched into his skin. His hands are in tight quivering fists, and there's a feral growl in his throat. His hate is a tangible force waiting to be unleashed. With no foe in sight, he takes his fury out on the end table as he lifts it and throws it across the room with a warrior's yell. The wood explodes against the stone wall. His anger sated for the moment, he collapses to his knees, hugging himself and rocking slightly. The blue glow fades to leave him alone in the dark with his memories.

..~~*~~..

It's just before dawn when Anders wakes up, his sleep having been filled with forbidden desires for Marian Hawke. He doesn't know which are worse-the Archdemon nightmares or the ache he feels for the blue-eyed rogue. He rubs his eyes and glances over at Madia's cot, and he is alarmed to find it empty. He quickly pulls on his boots and reaches for his coat, only to find her at his desk scribbling away on some parchment, his coat draped over her slender shoulders.

"What are you working on?" he asks with a friendly smile.

She looks over her shoulder at him, her face somber. His smile fades as he approaches to look at her drawing. The paper is taken up mostly by a large, black mass with glowing eyes and sharp teeth. Its clawed hands ready to snatch up the small running figure. Watching him approach she sets the quill back in the ink well.

"Is this what you're dreaming about?" he asks. She nods, looking back at her drawing.

"Is this you?" Anders points to the crudely drawn running figure, and, again, she nods as her little finger rubs the small scar by her left ear.

"Is this a demon?" he asks, pointing at the shadow. Madia shrugs, playing with the simple beaded bracelet on her wrist. He kneels down, gently gripping her chin and draws her eyes to his.

"Does this shadow talk to you? Does it promise you things?" he asks, almost fearing her answer.

She squeezes her eyes shut, tears spilling down her cheeks as she nods. Fear runs its icy fingers down his spine; demons are not usually attracted to a mage so young. They prefer those who have come into their full power. Yet, as far as he can tell, this child is no mage, so why would a demon seek her out?

"Madia, what does it promise you?" he asks carefully. She suddenly throws all the papers off the desk and runs out of the small room. He gives chases and quickly catches her.

"Madia, stop!" he orders, wrapping his arms about the child and lifting her off her feet. She makes a futile attempt to struggle as he pulls her close.

"It's okay," Anders says softly while sitting on the ground and pulling her into his lap. He holds her close as sobs rack her tiny form. "It'll be okay. I promise. I'll protect you. I'll teach you," he whispers, rocking her slightly. Her tiny hands clutch onto his shirt tightly as he gently tries to ease both of their fears.

..~~*~~..

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Your Grace," Aveline says as she follows the elderly woman into her office. The Grand Cleric's office is not what she expected. The room is barely larger than her office at the barracks. The walls are lined with bookshelves packed to the point of bursting; one bookshelf behind the desk is heavy with scrolls.

"Well, it's not often the Guard Captain requests an audience. Please have a seat and tell me how I can help." She gestures to the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

"I was wondering, would you mind taking a look at these names and tell me what you remember of them." Aveline offers over a list the thirteen children reported missing. Grand Cleric Elthina takes the paper and carefully reads each name listed.

"Sadly, I do not know these names. Who are they?"

"Children the Chantry have reported missing."

"Ah, in that case I would recommend you speak with Sister Catherine. She and Brother Craig tend to the children."

"Is it possible there are still some records here about these children that I may look through?" Aveline asks, taking her list back.

"If it will help find our missing children, then I'll make all the necessary arrangements immediately. If I may ask…what has sparked the interest of the Guard Captain herself?"

"I was going through some of the former captain's unresolved reports. I'm hoping a fresh pair of eyes may find something that was missed," Aveline hears herself say. She hopes the Maker will forgive this small lie, but there's no need to make powerful enemies without just cause.

"Thank you for your attentiveness in this matter," the Grand Cleric says genuine gratitude in her voice and eyes as she rises from her desk.

"Before I leave Your Grace, is there any significance to the 15th of Verimensis?" Aveline asks.

Elthina thinks for a long moment before answering, a touch of confusion in her stormy grey eyes. "No, not that I can think of. Why do you ask?"

"I've seen that date on a few of the reports and was wondering if it has any significance. Thank you for time and courtesy, Your Grace."

"Maker guide your steps, Guard Captain."

Aveline's armor clinks softly as she makes her way through the Chantry towards the exit when she hears someone call her name. "It isn't often I see you in the Chantry," Sebsatian says, approaching the red haired woman.

"I'm looking into some reports of missing children."

"At the Chantry?"

"It was the Chantry who reported them missing. You've been here for a while, right?" It's a long shot, but any information she can gather would help.

"I was promised to the Chantry when I was 13, remember?"

"Do you recognize any of these names?" she asks, offering Sebastian the same list she had shown the Grand Cleric.

"Yes, I do. Most of these are orphans who were given to the Chantry by the city."

"Most, but not all?" Aveline asks, taking her list back.

"I only know the last five names on your list. I cannot say about the others."

"And doesn't it strike you as odd that so many children are missing?" Aveline notes, careful to not be accusatory.

"When I was given to the Chantry, I was young, wild and not yet ready to devote my life to the Maker. With help I ran away."

"But you returned?" she asks.

"Yes I did, but some of the children who come to us…life in the Chantry just isn't for them."

"You make it sound like this is a common occurrence?"

"I wouldn't say it's common, but it does happen," he answers with a sad sigh.

"I've noticed there's a bit more activity in the Chantry of late," Aveline says, changing topics suddenly.

"Yes, we have a visitor coming. Brother Edrin, a messenger from Val Royeaux. He travels from Chantry to Chantry, bringing news mostly," Sebastian answers.

"When is he expected?"

"He's here every 10th of Verimensis, and leaves on the 14th. He brings news to our Archivist and often has sweets for the children who can correctly answer questions about the Chant of Light," Sebastian recalls with a fond grin.

"Thank you for your time. I should be getting back to the barracks."

..~~*~~..

The sun is low in the sky, casting long dark shadows in the Chantry courtyard. Dark, fat storm clouds are slowly rolling in on a bitterly cold wind. Thunder rumbles deep in the clouds overhead, threatening a freezing rain. Fenris slowly makes his way to the house of worship. His feet move sluggishly. His mind refused to let go of his nightmare. He had bathed in scalding water and scrubbed his skin until it was red and raw in an effort to wash away the feel of the shadow's touch on his body. Slowly, he climbs the steps of the sacred house. His breath comes out in large plumes as the temperature drops with the setting sun. He stands at the doors, hesitant. He doesn't know why he's here and sighs heavily. Perhaps Sebastian is right-is it possible that praying to the Maker would help ease his troubled mind?

He is about to open the door, when a small sound causes him to pause. He looks about, following the sound around a tight corner. He hesitates and listens carefully for the mysterious sound again. He is ready to give up and head back home when he hears the sound again. It's the sound of a child crying. Fenris follows the sobbing a little further down the narrow alleyway to a dead end, and he sees a young, dark haired girl in Chantry robes fidget with a brick in the wall.

"Is someone there?" he calls. The child looks up and lets out a startled gasp before escaping, crawling through a small hole in the back wall. His curiosity getting the better of him, he makes his way towards the wall the and uses his hands to explore the area that just held the child's attention. The light is rapidly fading. He's just about to give up when he finds a loose brick.

Fenris pulls his dagger and carefully pries the brick free. It exposes a small cubby hole filled with papers. He pulls out the papers and carefully replaces the brick before making his way back to the Chantry's doors. He flips through the pages, but cannot read what they say. Maybe Sebastian can help. He walks into the vast chapel, grateful for the warmth, and immediately finds Sebastian lighting candles in front the large statue of Andraste. The last surviving member of the Vael family kneels after lighting the candles and speaks softly, looking up at the statue.

"Look with mercy upon my family, Andraste, for they are now at your side. May the words of my heart reach you, Bride of the Maker." Sebastian then lowers his head. Fenris watches from the shadows, not wishing to interrupt the archer's prayers for his lost family.

Fenris is in awe of the strength of Sebastian's faith. The man's entire line, all the way down to the youngest babe, was slaughtered and yet he still kneels before the deity which allowed the atrocity to occur. The elven warrior finds he is almost envious of the peace Sebastian seems to have through his worship. He looks up at the Statue of Andraste and finds himself wondering if faith in the Maker could cleanse him of the burning hate he feels eating his soul. After a moment Sebastian regains his composure and rises to his feet.

"Fenris, what brings you to the Chantry?" Sebastian warmly greets, approaching the elven warrior.

"I found these and thought you should see them," Fenris answers, holding out the stack of papers he found.

"What have you there?" Sebastian takes the pages and begins leafing through them.

"What are they?" Fenris asks.

"Have you not read these?" Sebastian asks, still looking at the letters.

"No. I…only just found them," Fenris says, opting to not reveal his illiteracy.

"They look like a child's letters to the Maker. From what I've seen so far this young girl lived in the Chantry. There must be dozens of letters here. Where did you find these?" his blue eyes finally looking up from the papers.

"Behind a loose brick in one of the Chantry's outer walls."

"They look old. Do you mind if I keep these?"

"I have no use for them," Fenris answers with a shrug.

"Thank you, Fenris. It will be interesting to see the Chantry through the eyes of a child."

..~~*~~..

It was a good dream. Fenris had turned on Hawke. Anders was there to save her and then she insisted on showing him her gratitude. It was the type of gratitude that required little to no clothing. Yes, it was a very good dream…so why is he wide awake staring at the darkened ceiling? He sighs quietly and rolls onto his side, and he is startled to see Madia standing next to his cot in her dingy sleeping gown, her face somber, and midnight blue eyes void of emotion.

He gasps, and she slowly raises a finger to her pursed lips. He looks at her curiously as he listens. He can hear the wind blowing, the faint sound of lapping water, and little else. Where were the sounds of Darktown-people coughing, fighting and talking? Why could he not hear the activity of his clinic? He gets out of bed and reaches for his staff to cast an illumination spell, but his staff is missing. A touch of panic begins to settle in him. He casts the illumination spell, focusing it into a small ball of dim light which floats an inch above his hand. It's harder to maintain the spell this way, but the end result is the same.

A dim, bluish-white light reveals that they are no longer in his clinic, but in a cave. How did they get here? And when?

It's a rounded cave with several natural made shelves which hold the melted remains of candles. The wax dripped down the walls to pool on the earthen floor. The cot he is on is well worn, with little more than a thread bare blanket and flat pillow. A small chest at the foot of the cot holds promise. He quickly moves to examine the chest and its contents only to find the box filled with odd, little trinkets. He shuffles past the dolls, toy weapons, and cheap jewelry and finds a thick, leather-bound book at the bottom. He pulls the book out and opens it, hoping the contents might reveal their location only to find it written in a text he cannot decipher. He curses softly before dropping the useless book and looking at Maida, who is still standing in the center of the room. There is no fear in her expression. There is only the sad, lonely look he'd seen on her face too many times.

"Come on," he says, offering her his hand. "We're getting out of here," he adds, taking her hand and leading the way towards the only exit. He holds the glowing light out ahead of them as he slowly makes his way down the narrow, twisting passage. The pathway opens into a larger cavern with four small cages bolted into the walls. Light from the full moon dimly illuminates the new cavern; he extinguishes the spell by clasping his hand into a fist. Better save his magic for when he might need it. Evidence of small fires scar the cavern floor and the remains of meals and broken, stained bottles litter this area. Little scraps of parchment dance silently on the wind as he heads towards the mouth of the cave.

"And where do you think you're you going?" a deep, distorted voice asks in a mocking manner. Anders spins, keeping Madia behind him as he looks for the source of the voice only to find nothing.

"You're mine, pretty one," the voice teases. Anders grips the child's hand a little tighter. After a moment, still determined to escape, he hazards a step towards the mouth of the cave. He doesn't make it any further before an icy shadow rushes them, knocking Anders off his feet and engulfing Madia completely.

"MINE!" the shadow screams, and then a powerful burst of energy sends Anders flying out of the cave and over the cliff edge.

Anders wakes suddenly, and he is relieved to find himself in his own bed in Darktown. Images of the shadow consuming Madia flash behind his eyes. Dread fills him when he sees her cot is empty.

He pulls on his boots and rushes out to look for the child, forgetting his coat and staff in his eagerness to find her. His brown eyes scan the clinic. Finding no sign of his missing ward, he heads towards the exit. His steps quicken with each second he does not see her. His stomach is knotted with worry and his heart continues to race until he finds her.

She is standing at the railing just outside his clinic. She looks up at the sky as a freezing drizzle covers everything in a fine sheen of ice.

"Madia!" he exclaims, trying to keep the anxiety from his voice and succeeding to a point.

"What are you doing out here? Where's your coat?" he demands, then sighs. "You had me worried," he adds as he calmly walks up to her. She turns and looks at him with her red swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"Another nightmare?" he asks, crouching down next to her. She nods and throws her arms around his neck.

"The shadow again?" he asks, trying to calm her tears. He feels her nod. Anders holds her protectively in his arms, and he begins to wonder if Hawke is correct. A trip into the fade may be the only way to learn what is hunting her. He must consider this carefully as there are dangers in the fade that should not be taken lightly.