A weak sunlight filtered through the thick, glass windows in the First Enchanter's office. Irving reposed, propping his elbows on the arms of an overstuffed chair. He pressed his fingertips together and appeared deep in thought. Nuraya was perplexed as to why he was mulling over her request. She required several senior enchanters to accompany her back to Redcliffe Castle with lyrium—and plenty of it. Together, she hoped, they would complete a ritual to rid the demon plaguing Connor. The only way to avoid using blood magic was involve the Circle and she thought Irving would support that decision.

Waiting for Irving to speak, Nuraya sunk into her chair. She loved this office, its tall windows that looked out over the rolling hills, to the horizon; the books stacked floor to ceiling and the curious artifacts that nestled among them. It was her favorite place in the Tower. In a moment of nostalgia, she fondly thought of the long hours she sat crossed legged in this very chair and listening to Irving's lessons on the complex history between the mages and the Chantry, or of his exploits in the Fade. In her former life, she was his apprentice. Irving was more like a father than a teacher and she missed his advice and counsel. This was the only place where she felt she was of any value. In the halls and dormitories below, she was nothing more than a problem to Fereldan, a disaster lying in wait.

"We will accompany you to Redcliffe, of that there is no doubt," he said after considerable silence. His spoke thoughtfully and in his familiar gruff voice. "However, I want you to fully understand the implications of your actions."

"I'm fully prepared to meet whatever I encounter in the Fade." She still felt like a student. Becoming a Grey Warden didn't change everything.

"Oh, I don't doubt that. This isn't my concern. Presently, there are more…earthly concerns that I would like to bring to your attention."

"Are you speaking of Loghain's treachery, First Enchanter? I was in Ostagar, don't forget." She leaned forward, recalling the terrifying realization that the Wardens had been betrayed and then forced to watch the Darkspawn hoard overwhelm the battlefield and claim both Duncan and King Cailan. It seemed so long ago, yet that moment defined her. "Let's not forget about Jowan. He admitted that Loghain hired him to poison the Arl." As Nuraya spoke about Loghain, she remembered the part he played in Uldred's rebellion, and her anger boiled over. Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "If that were not enough, shall we revisit Loghain's part in the devastation of this Circle?

Irving nodded. "Yes, that is all true…so now the Grey Wardens have political affairs to contend with. There are rumors in Denerim regarding your treachery."

"Lies! All of them! That bastard didn't even have the courage to kill the King with his own hand! He retreated and then blamed the Grey Wardens!"

"My dear Nuraya. This anger becomes you. Indeed, the lies spread like an ill wind. By saving the Arl of Redcliffe, word will spread throughout Fereldan of your political leanings."

"But Duncan told me that the Grey Wardens are not supposed to take sides. How am I to stop a Blight and remain neutral?"

"At tricky question. A wise man once said, know well what leads you forward and what holds you back, and choose the path that leads to wisdom. "

Nuraya thought about his statement, but had difficulty relating it to her current situation. I know the Blight is leading me forward, and being a mage holds me back, but I can't even see the choices before me, let alone the path to wisdom.

"The Grey Wardens may expect you to be neutral, but those who act against you are not. Everyone knows that Eamon is a power to be reckoned with in the Landsmeet. Why else would Loghain poison him? But this is not all. Whist in Denerim, I heard Chantry sisters whisper rumors of a stronger alliance between the Grand Cleric and Loghain. Should there be any grain of truth in this, I fear it could have dire implications for the Circle. This troubles me deeply. With the seat of Chantry power in Orlais, he will influence, or manipulate the Ferelden Chantry and the Circle to his advantage."

"Then Loghain is playing on both sides of the fence, because he the one who convinced Uldred to rebel promising to free the Circle if they supported his claim to the throne. Why doesn't he empower the mages? It would be a perfect strategy to use against the Orlesians."

"Who has ever in the history of Thedas trusted mages, Nuraya? He understands the threat of an Exalted March. He's already proven that he will use a mage to his own advantage. You're right he is trying to play both sides of the fence. Something is brewing, that is all of which I can be certain."

"And now word spreads that we are traitors. Politics won't mean anything when the Archdemon lands and the hoard stains this land with their filth."

"So Duncan was right about this being a Blight."

"I've seen the Archdemon, Irving. Once I took my Joining, I dream of it. It's coming. I have no doubt. But with regards to politics, I have a card up my sleeve, so to speak." She hesitated in revealing this information, but could not help trusting her beloved teacher. "You have to swear that this will not leave this room. The information that I have will put us further at risk."

Irving raised an eyebrow. "I cannot imagine what this information is. Let it remain your secret. We cannot predict what the future will bring and I don't want to know information that could be forced from me. In this case, I prefer to remain ignorant."

Nuraya was stunned at his response. She could not imagine what situation Irving might be referring. Would the Chantry dare torture Irving for information about me? Have I put the Circle in danger by coming?

"I do have something for you, Nuraya. I've thought very carefully about giving it to you. But I've made up my mind and I think it will benefit you more than the Circle."

He slowly and with some effort stood up and shuffled to a trunk near his desk. He uttered a quiet spell and she could hear the mechanisms release. He came back with an old volume bound in dragon skin and embossed with silverite. The title was carved in an ancient script she could not recognize. It smelled of its age—of dust, mold and old ink. Pages were fragile and covered with handwriting. Layers of notes from different hands and of different eras crowded the margins. She hoped Irving did not expect her to find some use of it. It would take her years to interpret the first few paragraphs. As she sifted through the volume, she noticed runic diagrams, but recognized none of them.

"I understand you're traveling with Morrigan."

"Yes. She is waiting for us at Castle Redcliffe. Her mother saved us from the Darkspawn at Ostagar."

"Then, please give this to her. Tell her you found it. I do not want to be associated with this anymore."

"I take it you understand the contents? I cannot say that I know her well enough to fully trust her motives. Are you sure I should give this to her?"

"It belongs to her mother. I think she has a right to know the contents. And I have a feeling that it may be of benefit to you someday."

"How's that?"

"I think that is a conversation you should have with Morrigan."

Nuraya wrapped the tome in her clean laundry and stuck it in the bottom of the leather pack. Only her wildest imagination would lead her to wonder what those pages revealed. Perhaps it was true what Irving said with respect to her secrets. Perhaps it was better that she did not know, for the time being.

Irving placed his hand on Nuraya's head. It was his sign of endearment and a reassuring touch that she often received after a particularly complicated lesson. She smiled and stood.

"I think we best leave for Redcliffe," he said simply. "Gather your companions and meet me at the front gates."

~0oOo0~

"And the verdict is?" Alistair asked expectantly.

"Let's get out of this Maker-forsaken place," she sighed, "Irving and his entourage are waiting for us."

All of a sudden, everyone was in motion. The clatter of their equipment and shuffling of gear into leather packs filled the quiet room. She let Leliana and Sten leave ahead of her. Alistair stayed behind as Nuraya did a second sweep of the room to ensure that all their belongings were collected. Alistair was distracted and continued to search the room.

"Did you lose something?" she asked.

"Oh nothing," he muttered. Nuraya took a wild guess and rummaged through her pack and produced the dried rose.

"Looking for this? I found it on the floor last night."

He rubbed his forehead. "Uh, yes." She gave it back and he studied it in the palm of his hand. She had no idea how attached he was to flowers.

Things were awkward between them. He avoided her at breakfast and spoke very little. She knew that her adventures from the night before were the reason he was acting out of character.

"Alistair, I want to explain about last night."

"Your business is your own. I apologize for poking my nose into your…affairs. I'd rather just forget about it, if you don't mind." He swung his shield over his shoulder and handed over her staff. Great Maferath! He can't be sulking.

"Oh flaming Bride of the Maker! Please listen to me!" She whispered harshly.

"Look, I am sorry I interrupted you and Cullen. I should have known you would have…unfinished business here at the Circle." He coursed his fingers through his hair and continued to rummage through his pack.

"Please, your imagination is getting the better of you. Hear me out. I wasn't going to say anything, but I fear a misunderstanding."

"I'm not interested in hearing about your situation with Cullen."

"This is not about Cullen!" She stomped her foot in frustration, and then proceeded to explain the purpose of her late night meeting with Petra and her visit with Anders.

"Had Cullen caught us, Petra would have been punished severely, and I would have been suspected as some sort of blood-mage Grey Warden. Learning magic without permission is highly suspect here! And as for Anders…he's like a brother, I couldn't bear leaving here not having seen him. I had to get Cullen out of the laboratory to keep him out of trouble." She massaged her forehead with the tips of her fingers. Recounting these clandestine meetings was beginning to make her head ache.

Alistair relaxed, approached her and laid his hand on her once injured shoulder.

"This will not leave this room. I promise. You're a sneaky one! What about Wynne? Won't she wonder how you became a healer?"

"I'm not sure how I'm going to deal with that. I'll figure out something when the time comes, I suppose. What is Wynne going to do? Send me to the templars?"

"I doubt that. Probably give you a good scolding though!"

She watched his expression relax and she was glad that he believed her.

"There was a reason why I was wandering the halls looking for you," he said, becoming slightly more serious.

She looked up at him; lingering thoughts remained about how she was going to explain this situation to Wynne in the event she decided to grill her on her newly acquired skill.

"Oh, why is that?"

"I am going to sound like such an ass, but I wanted to find a quiet moment to give you this. Maker knows when I am going to get this chance again." He handed her back the rose. "I found this in Lothering and couldn't bear to leave it there to become spoiled by the Darkspawn. When I saw it, I thought of you—a lovely delicate thing amongst all this ugliness. I was struck by how it dared to exist and the courage it had to bloom. I've been trying to find the courage to give it to you, but could never find the right time. That's why I came looking for you. Then I saw you with Cullen…and then I must have dropped it…"

She cupped the rose in her hand and smelled its faint sweetness. She was relieved that she didn't need to guess what he was feeling, but regretted not finding her own courage to tell him herself.

"What a beautiful thought. I don't know what to say. Ever since Ostagar…I don't know what I would do without you... I want you to know that…and that I…what I mean to say is…oh Flaming Andraste…I am not very good at this…no need to worry about making an ass of yourself Alistair. I am quite determined to do this for the both of us." She felt her cheeks burn as she tried to say something sensible.

"I've never met anyone like you before."

"A free mage turned Grey Warden setting out to slay the Archdemon? Fancy that. I'm sure you can find a room full in Denerim." If Alistair had taught her anything, it was how to inject humor to smooth over a complicated situation. To ensure he fully understood what she was unable to say, she leaned forward and lightly kissed his cheek.

"You surprise me Alistair. With your background, I thought I would be too…dangerous." Her tone turned serious. Until now she was not sure if his flirting meant anything more than harmless teasing.

"Right, the whole templar-mage thing. You aren't what I expected, either. You think about things. I've always thought that magic was some sort of instinct that mages acted upon. But I see you struggle with choices, using magic for good, seeing others exploit it for personal power. Everything the Chantry trained me to expect about you…is wrong. The Grey Wardens taught me how to be more open-minded, that our success depended on cooperation. But with you I've gone beyond just open-minded, cooperation…"

Gently, he cupped her face with his hands and looked into her eyes. The moment her gaze locked met his, her stomach fluttered, and she stepped in closer. He grasped her shoulders, leaned in and kissed her. She surrendered, gathered him into her arms and deepened their embrace. All she yearned for, at that moment, was to stop time and give in her rushing desires. She wove her fingers into his as she pulled away and smiled.

"Where do we go from here, Alistair, a free mage and an ex-templar? Duncan would surely have had reservations." She leaned against his chest and held him tight, relieved and overjoyed.

"Right now we are both Wardens, and that is all that matters. As for Duncan, I suppose he would be concerned about…distractions. He was rather single-minded." He caressed her long dark braid, and set it gently in front of her shoulder.

"Speaking of distractions, what do we tell rest of the rest of our party?"

"Right. Shall we just announce it around the campfire and join hands and sing a few ballads?"

"Let's just ease them into the idea, shall we?"

"Of course. I'm composing the ballad as we speak…"

Nuraya leaned forward again and offered her lips to his. She hoped that in the chaos that would unfurl over the next couple of days, they would be able to steal some time alone together. And then, she heard Duncan's judicious voice in the back of her mind, something he had said long ago at Ostagar, and wondered if she was still living up to his expectations: From here, you two are on your own. Remember, you are both Grey Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title.

She looked toward the door, knowing she was keeping Irving waiting.

"Let's get this over with," she sighed. Despite all that had transpired over the past few days, she still had the Fade to contend with.

~0oOo0~

"Oh thank the Maker, Warden. We have been anxiously awaiting your arrival!" Bann Teagan greeted the party at the Redcliffe's bailey. "I trust your journey was uneventful?"

"The Darkspawn did not stand a chance, Ser." Nuraya smiled and walked alongside Eamon's younger brother. "What of Redcliffe, any news?"

"My brother shows no improvement, but he is no worse. Lady Isolde is either by Eamon's bedside, and inconsolable, or she is fretting over the Connor."

"I trust the demon is under some sort of control."

"Miraculously, yes. Your companion Wynne used some sort of protective ward that at least keeps the demon at bay. The lad is not himself for sure, but the rages have abated."

They arrived at the hall and she was greatly relieved that she was anywhere but at the Circle. Wynne approached the party with relief and offered a tender hug to Nuraya, a handshake to Irving and, warm greetings to the four senior enchanters. Morrigan sat in a corner, clearly bored. Nuraya attempted some small talk but she was greeted with a yawn. Leliana, Sten and Alistair were ushered to an out-of-the-way corner to serve as witnesses to the ritual. Before departing from Nuraya's side, Leliana placed her hands on Nuraya's shoulders.

"Maker watch over you. I will be praying as you face this demon. Be brave, my friend."

Nuraya mustered an assuring smile.

Great banners hung on either side of a large stone hearth. They were meticulously stitched with intricate images of Redcliffe's heroes. The flickering fire seemed to breathe life into the designs. Nuraya focused on the embers and calmed her anxiety. After brief a counsel with Teagan and the Circle Mages, Irving spoke up.

"I advise that we waste no more time and commence the cleansing ritual. Morrigan, will you stand with us?"

She looked up, leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. "I will sit this one out, your eminence, if you do not mind." Nuraya could hear the sarcasm seeping from her tone. She did not expect Morrigan's assistance and therefore was not disappointed.

"Such is your desire My Lady," he responded courteously and then addressed the room.

"No one is to break this circle until the ritual is complete and no one is to touch Nuraya until I deem it safe." Then he turned to Nuraya and looked straight into her eyes, "If you are possessed during your journey, do you understand what I must do?"

"Yes, First Enchanter. If I should fall under the influence of demons, you must kill me. Please avoid further ruin upon this place." She expected this warning, and understood the consequences. Her belly continued to sour and churn. Over Irving's shoulder she caught a glimpse of a terrified Alistair. Perhaps she should have warned him. Surely, his time with the templars would have prepared him for this possibility.

"And where is the boy?" Eamon asked.

"He is in the nursery with his governess and mother," Teagan said.

"Please send word to the mother that the ritual is about to begin. I advise this to be done out of range of the boy and keep him away from the hall."

"Right away, First Enchanter." Teagan quickly took his leave.

"Then let us begin," he said softly, bowing his head.

Wynne, Irving and the four mages stood in a circle surrounding Nuraya. Irving commenced with a low guttural mantra of ancient incantations, still strange to her ears. Even after her Harrowing the words were so foreign and drenched with ancient power. He held a ewer. Her hands started to shake and to calm herself, she studied the vessel. Its base, spout and lip were dark bronze and accented with enameled runes. The handle, an arching bronze dragon, breathed fire of encrusted garnet onto its carved glass body. Luminescent lyrium twisted and turned inside, fueled from the intensity of Irving's mantra. He lifted the lyrium and drank and then served it to each mage in the circle. His monotone invocation remained constant, as he poured lyrium on the floor, around the circle and then in a line from every mage to Nuraya. Still chanting, he motioned for Nuraya to drink her share and when she had done so, he joined the circle. The mages continued chanting their haunting mantra in unison. When each mage placed their left hand onto their neighbour's shoulder and their right onto Nuraya, she could feel their collective energy course through her, vibrating, cold and powerful. Their voices lowered, but quickened. Slowly, they lowered to their knees and directed Nuraya to the floor. Without pause, they simultaneously raised their hands from Nuraya, whose breath now kept pace with the fervent chanting, and then slapped her trembling body. The actual touch was nothing compared to the force that pulled her from her body.

At that moment, Nuraya was flung into the Fade. She stood on a path inside a dense thicket. From her periphery, vague objects caught her attention. Whenever she turned to see what it was, she saw nothing but trees swaying in and out of focus. She heard the hollow noise again, incessant and indistinct. Turning, desperately trying gather her bearings, she watched shadow and light merge and separate. In the distance, she could hear the faint crying of a child. She reached for her staff and wondered if it was real; if it was the same staff she clung to in Ferelden.

The polished wood grounded her, helped focus her as she decided upon a direction to take. As her body and mind adjusted to the surreal environment, she felt the cold. It was nothing like a frosty autumn morning, but lingered with vapid silence. Despite the movement she sensed in the corners of her eyes, the air was still, like death.

The cries of the wailing child pierced her ears, trailed off into the distance and back again. Determining distance would be impossible, but she sensed the sounds were coming from her right. She turned and headed toward the call of pain and torment, but there was no path. She gathered her courage and stepped into the shadowy wood. As soon as her foot disappeared into the ethereal foliage, a path appeared before her. Keeping her eyes fixed ahead, she marched steadfastly forward, allowing the distressing sounds to guide her. Shadow birds landed above her and cawed. smearing the void grey above her with the darkness of their wings. Other creatures, with dull eyes peered at her from the wood, snarling and poised to pounce. She refused to confront them, sensing they would disappear if her gaze left the distinctive path in front of her.

She entered a clearing. A young lad, no older than eight, stood in the centre. Childhood attachments lingered around him. A bed floated haphazardly in a corner. Toys were askew and hovering about the clearing. Nuraya cautiously approached him and opened her mouth to command the demon to face her. The boy—or was it the demon—must have sensed her intention and cursed her. It ran, dissolving into incoherent smear, similar to water droplets on fresh ink. She followed his trail, through a winding path. She could hear him cry and wail again.

After catching up with him, she found herself in the same clearing she had just left. She brushed aside what she saw, and called out to the demon.

"Thou art no longer bound to this boy. I command thee to release him!"

The boy shook and cried and begged her not to hurt him.

"Please lady, I'm afraid! Don't hurt me. I'm lost. I can't find my mama."

Her heart ached for the boy, his pleas reminded her of her childhood, and how she begged the templars to let her return to her parents. She wanted to take him into her arms and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but she knew how demons worked. She raised her staff and struck Connor with a bolt of lightening. Turning toward her, she saw his eyes, pools of churning shadow, glare back with rage. A dark mist billowed from empty sockets and gathered into a surge of swirling grey smoke. Connor dissipated and reformed into a rage demon. Its twisted face, pulled tight in strange angles from massive scars, stared into hers. She hurled more lightning at it. It slithered to evade her attack, but was struck in the shoulder. It flailed backward and forward like a demented toy on a spring and bellowed madness that overwhelmed her senses. She ducked its counterattack, spun around and attacked. The demon crumbled into a heap of ash. This was not the demon she sought to tear its grip from Connor. This beast guarded the desire demon.

Once again, she could hear Connor's calls and howls from the distance. She continued to search and defeat each sentinel. The more she conquered, the stronger they became. I must be getting closer, she reassured herself. She followed the distant moans for what seemed for hours. The constant flickers of movement, and the grating clangs harassing her hearing, drained her. Arl Eamon, in his confused fade-form, often appeared, reprimanding her for her assaults on Connor. After her first attempt to reason with him failed, she paid no heed and walked through his apparition.

Her path unexpectedly veered left. She entered a clearing and saw Alistair standing there. She aimed her staff, but he approached and motioned to stop.

"Thank the Maker I found you! Irving sent me here to find you."

"Back off, Demon!" she screamed.

"Please, listen, I know what this looks like, but listen. The demon awoke in Connor and Morrigan killed him. The ritual failed, I have been sent to bring you back."

Nuraya wanted to believe this. A part of her expected Morrigan to interfere.

"Only mages can enter the Fade and escape death." She took a step back not lowering her staff. She was so relieved to see someone familiar that she struggled to maintain her attention.

"The Circle mages used a ritual to send someone that you trust into the Fade. Irving knew that you would remain lost and not listen to anyone else. You've seen Arl Eamon here haven't you? He is completely lost. I don't want to lose you the same way. Please come with me."

Alistair held out his hand and slowly approached. Nuraya stood motionless. He gently lowered her staff and then tenderly touched her face. This was Alistair; this was his piercing gaze, his gentle hand. The memory of their first kiss was so new and fresh in her mind. Tired of feeling lost and confused, she leaned into his hand. Now that the ritual had failed, she needed this touch to bring her back, to return her from the Fade. He was here to save her.

"Please, I cannot bear to lose you here. We belong together. When we get back, we must continue our quest, I cannot go on alone." He embraced her and kissed her sweetly. This was Alistair, she thought and pulled him to her and fervently explored his lips, his tongue. After, he cupped her face and looked evenly into her eyes.

"Together we'll end this Blight." He played with her braid in that familiar, comforting way.

She took a step back, feeling her hair fall in front of her shoulder. She could not resist these addictive pleas. She remembered her vow to Irving, her promise to Teagan to save Connor. So confused, so torn, she didn't know what to do. Gathering all the courage she could muster, she launched a spike of ice at his head. Everything within her screamed that this was wrong, that she must follow him, return to Redcliffe and continue their quest.

"Well, well, well. We finally meet. Is it Mage or Warden?"

"It is both." Nuraya hit the demon with a bolt of electricity and it screeched and fought back. Nuraya had to ignore the forms it took, and at times had to close her eyes as she conjured an offensive spell. Although her aim was compromised, the alternative was worse. If she allowed herself to look at the demon, it reminded her of how much she wanted Alistair, and how she didn't want to hurt him. As the battle continued, Nuraya could feel her energy draining. She had no sense for its condition. Have I weakened it at all? The demon writhed away, sometimes flickering in its Alistair form, sometimes as a formless horror.

"You know you want him. Allow me to grant you this. He shall be your King and as Queen; you shall grant freedom to all Fereldan mages. You know this is within your grasp."

"But at what cost?" she shrieked. There would be no bargains, no deals to be made, no matter how desperately she yearned for these offers. She noticed a lyrium vein behind the demon. If she could access it, she could replenish her tapped reserves. Nuraya angled herself toward the vein and pretended to lower her guard.

"You would have me become Queen and exert power over the mages? What do you gain in this bargain?"

The demon swayed, staring directly into Nuraya's eyes.

"So you consider my offer…Warden…" it whispered sensuously. "All that I ask is the opportunity to—make an appearance—from time to time."

Nuraya glided closer to her target, not taking her eyes off the shifting demon. Sometimes it appeared as Alistair, her father, even Irving. These apparitions pulled at her heart, and with great reluctance she approached. The lyrium was now a foot-length away. Nuraya held aside her staff in a conciliatory manner; sidestepped and buried her foot in the centre of the vein. A jolt of power surged through her and she conjured an inferno.

The demon was consumed in a thunderous blaze and Nuraya watched its energy diminish. Backing away from the firestorm, she heard the demon's fervid screams curse her.

"I will watch the Archdemon destroy you, Warden and I will dance on your corpse! This land will be consumed with darkspawn and I will sing of your weakness and cowardice! Songs will lament the Coward of Fereldan!"

The Demon shrieked and Nuraya watched wide-eyed as it began to wither in the flame. She cast another fireball directly for the demon's head, causing it to melt as candle wax over its blistered form. Nuraya collapsed, completely spent and drained.

~0oOo0~

"Welcome back Nuraya."

Silence roused her back to consciousness. No longer could she hear the aching song of the Fade. Its flummoxing cacophony no longer echoed in her ears. Irving was above her looked deeply into her eyes. He spoke softly and a grin caused the corners of his kindly eyes to crinkle.

"Irving…"

He helped her to a sitting position. She was still holding the empty ewer. Irving took it and handed it to one of the senior enchanters. As she focused on the hall, she noticed many eyes watching her as she found her bearings and returned to her senses.

"Please, let's give the Grey Warden her space."

"Is that it? Is that all?" She heard Alistair approach the broken circle. His questions confused her. Her mind was weary and spent, and her body was exhausted from the hours of trudging through the wilds of the Fade. Irving helped Nuraya stand, and steadied her. Wynne approached and wrapped an arm around her reassuringly.

"Is the ritual complete?" Alistair demanded and pushed himself through the senior enchanters surrounding her. It was apparent that Irving was confident of the answer, but turned to Nuraya anyway.

"Yes. I killed it. I pursued it for hours."

"Hours?" Alistair asked incredulously. "But this ritual was over as soon as it started!"

Nuraya looked at him in equal amounts of confusion. "I don't understand Irving. I spent hours hunting that demon–"

Irving held up his hand and interrupted. "Such is the Fade. Do not question it. I suggest you get some rest."

At that moment, Teagan burst into the hall.

"Connor and Isolde both live! He is free from this demon. How can Redcliffe repay the Wardens and the Circle?" He tempered his excitement when he recognized the exhaustion from the room. Nuraya's head began to ache and could not shake the surreal sensations.

"What is to be done with the Mage, Jowan?" Teagan asked. So betrayed by her friend's choices, Nuraya did not want to see him again.

Irving spoke up. "We can discuss this at a later time, Teagan."

"Very well. Please, Redcliffe would like to honor all of you at a banquet tonight and I will send the Redcliffe guard to accompany you back to the Circle tomorrow. Please, the Castle is yours for the night." Teagan turned to his staff and instructed them to escort the entire party to the guest quarters.

Alistair approached and offered to accompany Nuraya to her room. She caught a glimpse of Irving and Wynne nod to each other knowingly. So much for secrets!

He led her down a winding hallway to the second floor. Servants scuttled about with bedding and prepared for the overnight guests. Mages convened brief meetings in the hall, while Leliana and Wynne appeared deep in conversation as they walked. All greeted Nuraya warmly, but she barely had the energy to smile.

"I'm relieved it's over," he said. "I hope it was not too obvious how worried I was."

She recalled the demon's trick and how it appeared as Alistair. She was unsure if she should tell this to him.

"I think I need to sleep off this lyrium hangover." She scratched her head and realized she was still covered in the sticky residue of lyrium that Irving had anointed her with, earlier.

"Apparently, I am also in need of a bath. Ugh. You have no idea how overjoyed I am that this whole ordeal is over! I loathe demons." Alistair opened the wooden door at the end of the hallway.

"Rest here and I'll have the staff prepare a bath for you." The suite was a sight for her weary bones. A feather bed, under a rich draping canopy sat in the middle of a comfortable sized room. A servant was busy starting a fire. Alistair took her pack and staff and set them in a large overstuffed chair in the corner.

"I think you will be able to suffer through this for the evening," he said. He swung open door, adjacent to the bed. She thought it might be a closet and wondered why Alistair might want to poke around.

"Shhhhh!" he turned toward her and grinned widely. "Adjoining rooms!" and he disappeared into the other side of the door.

Still groggy from the ritual she barely had time to react. The door opened slightly and he poked his head out.

"I will come rouse you for dinner. Enjoy your rest." He winked and then shut it again. Not bothering to undress, she laid on the bed and fell asleep.

~0oOo0~

I am marching. Awareness rises, but then I am afraid. I don't want to look around, but I don't know where I am. The Darkspawn ignore me and urge me along the route. They stink of filth and hate and death. They snarl and grunt in effort, with the lifting and pounding of their clawed feet. Am I visible? Can they see me? Have I been transformed into a Darkspawn? Why am I here? Have I returned to the Fade? I am surrounded by stone. The heat of a snaking river of liquid fire slithers in the distance, illuminating our path in a hazy glow. A hurlock pushes me along. Its claws scratch my back. The wound burns. I see a shadow overhead. Far away, I can hear a lingering echo, a roar, a scream, a thundering demand. The shadow looms lower, the presence is closer. My heart throbs. I am desperate; I hope that I am invisible. I feel a searing pain on my back. I cannot defend myself against this agony. I am in its clutches. I am taken away. I am tossed upon a ledge, high in the cavern. It flies away and perches some distance from me. It studies me. It invades my mind. It speaks. I don't understand. I am terrified. I scream.


Many thanks to my beta Kira Tamarion for her vigilance and sacrifice with my tangled grammar and DoorbellSpider for her unabashed input. Bioware owns all, except for Nuraya's soul. Thanks to everyone who has added me to their favorites. I'd love to hear your thoughts, don't be shy, leave a review! So now that Nuraya is through with the Fade, I wonder what sort of trouble she will find herself in next? Stay tuned!