"So this… Jowan," Zevran starts, sharpening his blade beside where she sits, "was he a friend?"

Filauria scowls. "That's none of your business," she says, eyes studying the diagrams drawn on the pages of the book in her hands. The Flow of Mana – the cover read. It is something she borrowed from Wynne to further understand the components of healing magic.

"I heard he was in the circle with you before," the light-haired elf continues, already used to her hostile demean or towards him. "Was he your lover?"

Filauria snaps the book shut and gives him a pointed glare. She truly is not ready to talk about Jowan yet – after all that has happened, the wound etched to her heart by the one person she ever loved was still red and sore and painful.

"Who told you that you could meddle with my personal life, huh?" she snaps.

Zevran turns towards her with an unreadable expression. "So a one-sided love, huh? What did he do? Did he elope with another mage and ask you to take care of the wedding preparations?"

Filauria clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. "Shut up! You know nothing about me!"

"I take it that didn't end well, no? Seeing that he is now branded an apostate and a maleficar," the assassin says, his voice deceptively calm. "What happened? Did you perhaps ruin his happiness out of your selfish desires?"

She feels her hands shaking. It is painful in her head, but it is even more so when it is said out loud. Filauria does not know how Zevran is so close to the truth but it hurts.

She remembers it like it was yesterday – throughout her circle life, Jowan had been the one constant flame that warmed her existence. The First Enchanter and all her mentors thought she was a prodigy – she'd received the highest marks in her classes and she was very quick to learn… but it also meant that she was under constant watch as well.

The Templars were everywhere – it was as if they were waiting for her to make the wrong move: to nick her finger and summon a monster. Being under surveillance also meant having less friends. The circle mages were already wary of the Templars as they were, and being under their watchful gazes every minute of the day was enough to drive a person mad. But Jowan – Jowan hadn't cared about all that.

Jowan had been there. Jowan had stayed.

…And yet she betrayed him.

What if she hadn't told Irving? Would things have gone differently?

Zevran stands and takes one step towards her rigid posture. He takes that step slowly, like a silent predator. "And now he is locked behind bars waiting for his death and it is all your fault."

That does it. Before she even has time to think, she feels the tendrils of magic on the tips of her fingers. Suddenly, Zevran is spasming on the ground. Sparks cover his whole body and she sees red. It is not enough – it is not nearly enough!

She raises both her hands and reaches to the fade. She takes a deep breath and pulls –

But just like that the connection is severed.

She feels Alistair's cold gauntlets against her skin and she hears his urgent voice in her ear. "Enough, Filauria! You'll kill him!"

Filauria blinks. Wynne has emerged beside Zevran, urgently tending to his wounds. Leliana is standing nearby with both her palms covering her mouth in shock. Sten stands near Alistair, his sword ready, and Morrigan watches the scene curiously from afar.

"That's enough," Alistair repeats, softly this time, as he pulls her arms to her sides and turns her to him.

When her eyes meet his, everything around her blurs.

And then she is crying.

A/N: And here's another chapter for y'all. Thanks to those who take time to review, I really, really do appreciate your feedbacks. Next chapter comes out on three days or so.

Tell me what you think about this one! :)