A/N: Sorry I'm a day late with this! And on a bit of a cliffie too! Bad Shilyn! Bad! I do have a good excuse though. I was heavily distracted from Thursday on by my original work. My novels, I mean. I did PitMad on Twitter and got some like,s meaning publishers and agents who want to see it. I also got a lovely rejection from an agent I subbed to months ago. But I was also feeling down about losing my agent again and all the crap she put me through in the way she left which was REALLY unethical. Anyway...on with the show!


Nine

The Revenant


Solas stayed motionless, scarcely daring to breathe as Rosa turned her head to look at him, her face creased with worry. She held her brother by the shoulders, clearly helping support him. Tal's lanky body slumped against her grip, even as he held onto her tightly with one hand of his own, as if frightened she'd vanish. The anguish in the young elf's face twisted something inside Solas with empathy.

It seemed Rosa was not the only truly gifted child Felassan had produced after all. He quashed his own surprise, knowing it was out of place here. This was a time only for concern as Tal clearly wasn't well.

Across the camp, beside a weak fire, Solas saw Harding and Blackwall watching the scene, riveted just as several other soldiers and scouts nearby were. In fact, Solas was certain he saw a few other tent flaps moving as others, who were supposed to be sleeping, peeked out at the unfolding drama.

Clearing his throat, Solas asked again, "May I be of any help, Herald?"

"Doubtful," Mahanon muttered, scowling at Solas. "Go back to sleep, flat-ear."

"Fuck off," Tal snapped at Mahanon. "I want his help." He released Rosa and started to walk unsteadily toward Solas, but his drunken gait made him stagger. Solas lunged forward to catch him, as did Rosa. Mahanon scrambled to get out of their way, glaring daggers at Solas the whole way, as if he had been the one to orchestrate all this.

With Tal slumped between them, Solas spoke in elven to Rosa, "Perhaps we might speak outside of camp, in private?"

She nodded without hesitation and motioned toward the fisherman's hamlet where a hill rose alongside the path, topped by a sizeable tree that'd offer protection from the endless rain. But Solas shook his head immediately. "No, we must get him away from the bog."

"Yes," Tal said, groaning as he started to walk with them. "Mythal's milky tits, away from the blighting bog."

Solas couldn't help but choke a little on Tal's curse as he worked with Rosa, maneuvering Tal to start walking along the muddied path out of camp, uphill and away from the bog. Mahanon and Blackwall both leapt to follow, shouting for Rosa to wait so they could provide assistance. Solas had no time to wonder if he needed to subtly let Rosa know the Warden and her kinsman shouldn't be privy to the conversation he needed to have with the siblings. Before he could say a word, she was pushing Tal onto him to support fully and turning round to order Blackwall and Mahanon to stay at camp.

"I can handle this without you both," she insisted, standing just at the edge of camp. Solas craned his neck several times to look back at her as he walked further away, Tal gradually regaining some muscular tension with the continued movement. The youth's breath smelled foul, which made sense as one of the first sounds Solas had heard upon waking was of retching. Still, despite Tal's bad breath, Solas surveyed him with new interest.

He had wondered, upon his last meeting with Rosa in the Fade when he'd taught her to construct the safe haven, whether she possessed any of the Evanuris' gifts. The siblings were the descendants of four Evanuris—most recently Dirthamen, but also Falon'Din, Mythal, and Elgar'nan. Each ancestor possessed special abilities and Solas had begun to suspect Rosa harbored Dirthamen's talent for sensing lies. It explained a great deal of how she had come to know and guess so much about him in the Hasmal Circle. But Tal seemed talentless, other than his natural charisma, which could have been inherited from Mythal…

When they were up the road far enough that no one could overhear, Solas searched around until he saw a rocky overhang that would provide some shelter from the rain and turned Tal in that direction. He helped the youth sit on the grass and then knelt before him, summoning a bit of magic to ward away the chill that'd settled on Tal's pallid skin. He laid his hands over Tal's shoulders, letting the spell flow into him.

Tal groaned, leaning back against the rock and shivering. "Ma serannas," he said.

"Think nothing of it," Solas told him, smiling. On the road behind him came the splatter of Rosa's tread as she followed after them at last.

"Tal," she said, slowing as she crossed the space and plopped down on the grass by his legs. She reached for his hand, squeezing it and smiling with clear relief as she said, "You're warm again. Thank the Creators."

"Thank Revas," Tal told her, smiling woozily. His eyes were lidded with exhaustion. "I feel like I could actually sleep again."

"That would not be advisable, currently," Solas said, frowning mildly as both siblings looked to him expectantly. He drew in a small breath and then let it out in a sigh. With a slight motion of one hand, Solas cast a sound dampening spell over them, blocking the rain as well. He saw Rosa shiver, reacting to the sensation of his magic—which he had shared with her on a very intimate level. He could guess that was what she might be thinking about now as he saw a hint of ruddiness in her cheeks when she should have been chilled from the constant drizzle.

"Why?" Tal asked, brow furrowing. "What do you know, Revas?" He flashed a tired, lopsided smile. "Must be serious since you've brought out the sound bubble." He tugged his hand from Rosa's and tapped Solas' leg as he grinned suddenly and waggled both brows. "Is this the part where you tell me you're not actually a filthy flat-ear apostate and Revas isn't your name?"

Solas scowled and shot Rosa a glare before he could stop himself, only to see her rolling her eyes, as if disgusted by her brother's antics. "Of course Revas is a filthy flat-ear, Tal."

Tal was still grinning, sly and triumphant. "Nice try, Rosa, but he just gave it away by glaring at you." To Solas, Tal said, "Come clean already, hahren. Rosa hasn't told me anything, but I'm not stupid. Do you honestly think Rosa would have fallen for a flat-ear? Seriously?"

Solas clenched his jaw, shaking his head with disapproval even as he struggled not to feel the warmth of a blush crawling across his cheeks and up to his ear tips. "If you would allow me a moment to explain," he said, almost growling, "I will then attempt to help you before the voices troubling you return and begin driving you mad."

"You know what's going on?" Rosa asked him.

Solas didn't bother glancing her way for more than an instant. This was about helping Tal, not engaging with Rosa when he was supposed to be extricating himself emotionally from her. To Tal he said, "I know how to help you, but I must ask that you agree to keep what I reveal to you secret. Do you agree?"

Tal snorted. "Sounds like I don't have much choice, Revas." He thumped his head against the rock behind him and hissed, wincing with pain. "If I understand you right, you're saying I'm going to lose my sanity unless you help me?"

"Eventually," Solas said, jaw still clenched. "I will aid you regardless, but I will not tell you anything beyond what is truly necessary if I do not feel I can trust you. Surely, that is reasonable, is it not?"

"Yeah," Tal agreed, sighing. "But you know you can trust me." He grinned and jerked a thumb at Rosa. "Despite what she says, I actually can keep a secret."

Rosa scoffed. "Barely."

Oddly, Tal reacted with anger, cursing. "Fenedhis, asamalin," he growled. "Did you ever stop to think maybe there's shit I don't tell you?"

She stared at him, the moment of tense silence dragging on for several long seconds before Solas cleared his throat and drew their attention back to him. "I did not mean to cause either of you alarm. I merely wished to ensure you understand that what I reveal must not be shared." He hesitated a moment and added, "For my own safety."

"Well," Tal said with a little shrug. "I promise never to tell a soul—aside from Rosa, who already knows. Sound good?"

After a short pause as he readied his thoughts, Solas dipped his chin in agreement. "Very well." He drew in a breath and tilted his head back slightly. "You were correct. I am not a flat-ear, as you put it. I am Elvhen." He paused a moment, expecting some reaction from Tal, but the youth merely smiled at him in a way that was entirely too reminiscent of Felassan, suddenly. It was the sort of smile Solas' longtime student and friend would offer up when he'd puzzled something out and was trying not to let on the depths of his own amusement. The sight of it made Solas' chest tighten and his throat constrict. Averting his gaze to look at the edge of the sound bubble, shimmering overtop of them, he forced himself to go on.

"I slept in uthenera from the fall of Arlathan until a little over a year ago." He drew in a short breath. "My true name is Solas."

"Ha," Tal said, pointing at him and smirking. "I knew it."

Solas frowned at his interruption and then proceeded to ignore it. "Before uthenera, I served Mythal as a general."

This finally drew a reaction of surprise from Tal as the youth's jaw dropped and his eyes widened, sweeping over Solas with new appreciation, reassessing him. And, unlike Rosa, who had generally schooled her reactions and tabled her enthusiasm, Tal was quick to interrupt with questions. "You knew Mythal? Personally? What was she like? Was she beautiful or hideous or just mediocre?"

"Worry about that later, Tal," Rosa chimed in, smirking with amusement.

"Right," Tal said, though he gave a small sigh of disappointment.

Solas shot Rosa a grateful look, feeling a little thrill when she returned it. Then he refocused on Tal, wetting his lips and speaking slow and somber. "Because of my time in the court of Arlathan, I became privy to secrets that have since been lost to modern Thedas. One such secret is that many of the Evanuris, those you know as Creators, possessed unique gifts that their direct descendants often inherited."

He hesitated, feeling Rosa's shocked stare weighing on him more than Tal's incredulous look. This was the moment he would discover just what the siblings truly knew of their heritage. Had Felassan lied to them, or had Rosa withheld information from Tal? It was an unexpected boon, an opening for him to "discover" the truth about them legitimately.

"What are you saying, Solas?" Rosa prodded him when the silence had gone on a beat.

"Yeah," Tal added, crossing his arms over his chest. "Are you trying to say that…" He broke off, shaking his head and looking suddenly stricken and pale as he glanced at Rosa. "No. That wasn't just some sick nightmare? What in the Void was it then? And how the fuck do I stop it happening again?"

Tal's consternation could have been evidence he wasn't privy to his own heritage, or it could be an act. Solas had to be very careful to keep straight what he was supposed to know against what he had uncovered using his agent Zevanni. He gazed between the siblings a moment before settling on Rosa. "You told me once that you had an Elvhen ancestor who survived to the present in uthenera just as I have."

Her lips quirked downward as she said, "Yes…" Tal watched her, blank and impossible to read, but Solas guessed he was taking his cues from Rosa. He would play it safe, revealing nothing until she indicated he could. The siblings had operated much the same way in the Hasmal Circle.

Solas cleared his throat again, tugging at his sleeves in a show of nervousness. "My suspicion, Rosa, is that you have either attempted to mislead me regarding this ancestor of yours, or you yourself have been misled. Perhaps it is both."

"Just spit it out," Rosa said, grumbling as she stared down into her lap at where her hands were wringing themselves together.

"I will be blunt then," Solas said and dipped his chin. "The ancestor you mentioned could not have been a distant relative. If that were true, Tal would not display this particular gift. Only relatively recent descendants of an Evanuris inherit it. More than five generations removed and the blood will become too dilute. Therefore, the ancestor you mentioned to me must, in fact, have been your sire." He motioned to Tal. "And Tal's as well. I know you share a father and were born to different clans. There is no sense in trying to deny it based on this latest discovery."

Tal's gaze flicked between Rosa and Solas, his brow furrowed. Rosa, for her part, remained motionless and silent. Finally, she let out a long breath and her shoulders slouched. "Yes. Ivun wasn't just some distant ancestor. He was our father."

"Whatever just happened to me is lenalin's fault?" Tal blurted, still looking between Solas and Rosa, desperate for an answer.

"Tell me," Solas said, ignoring Tal's question in favor of placing his own, though he already knew the answer. "Was Ivun Falon'Din's son? Grandson?"

"No," Rosa said, glaring at him. "What does it matter? He was part of the Arlathan court, a lesser noble—a nobody."

She does not wish to discuss the truth, Solas thought. And yet, the answer was written, literally, upon her face. But was she unaware of her father's blood relation to Falon'Din or merely trying to deny how strong her connection to the Evanuris was? She'd seemed particularly closed-lipped regarding this secret. Everything Solas had learned had come through his agent Zevanni working Tal over with the lure of sex. And even then, it had only been the revelation that Tal's full name was Talassan, which was entirely too close to Felassan, that had finally tipped them off because Tal himself revealed so little. Rosa had revealed only that she had a relatively recent Elvhen ancestor.

What was she worried about? She'd believed in the past that Solas served Mythal and she'd let slip that she knew there were ongoing conflicts from the time of Elvhenan. Did she suspect that Fen'Harel still lived? He'd believed Felassan had sheltered her from the truth but Rosa was clever enough she might have puzzled something out. Did she know or suspect Felassan had served the malevolent god of her people? Did she suspect Solas?

"It matters because clearly Ivun shared blood with Falon'Din," Solas said, letting a little irritation creep into his voice as he motioned at Tal. "This is his talent."

Rosa stared at Solas, her lips parting slightly. The shock was unmistakable now. She hadn't known

"What is it, exactly?" Tal demanded, exasperated as he scrubbed with both hands at his face.

"Falon'Din," Solas said the false god's name, spitting it with a bit of involuntary contempt. "Friend of the dead. The Dalish give him an inane, foolish story, fit only for children and fools. But the actual man was anything but kind or altruistic, yet he did possess the talent to hear the voices of the dead." He glanced from Tal to Rosa, narrowing his eyes at the familiar whorls and dots of her vallaslin. "It is why he partnered with Dirthamen, who possessed a talent of divining the truth in others' words. Together, the two men were powerful beyond the dreams of any pretentious Orlesian or depraved Tevinter magister."

Silence descended after he'd finished as both siblings stared at him with an emotion that he wasn't certain he could name—a mixture of shock, disbelief, and awe. Finally Tal snorted, snickering in a tight, strained sound. "Lenalin was Falon'Din's relative?" he asked, aiming the words at Rosa.

"You're sure about that?" Rosa asked Solas, a coy smile curling over her lips. The sight of it made Solas wary, but seemingly confirmed his suspicions. Rosa and Tal didn't know their father's full heritage. They knew only of their relation to Mythal, Elgar'nan, and Dirthamen. Falon'Din had been left out of Felassan's descriptions, possibly because Solas' old friend felt it wasn't important, but more likely because he hadn't been keen on embracing that ancestry, or any of it save Mythal.

"Yes," Solas replied with a firm nod. "You both must be Falon'Din's direct descendants, within five generations."

"Thanks, lenalin," Tal muttered, shaking his head and clawing a hand through his hair. "Thanks for educating me so well." He smacked Rosa's thigh, getting her attention. "Did you know? Did he ever tell you?"

She looked quickly to Solas and then back to Tal. "No," she answered. "He never told me about Falon'Din. I would have told you if he had."

"See, Rev—Solas," Tal corrected himself, scoffing. "Our father told Rosa all the secrets, but me? He just let me go running about unaware and empty-headed as a nug."

"He did not tell me about this, Tal," Rosa repeated, a hard edge to her voice. She closed her eyes, drawing in a breath. "Regardless, that's unimportant right now. What is important is that we learn how to help you, isamalin." As Tal nodded at her, still appearing unhappy but calmer for the moment, Rosa turned toward Solas and said, "Tell us what else you know about this gift. How does it work and how can he keep it under control?"

"And how come I haven't had it show up before?" Tal put in, shaking his head in consternation.

"In truth," Solas hedged, a touch hesitant. "I know little. I suspect the talent has never manifested before because it is relatively weak. Usually such talent appears at around the time of adolescence." Solas' own had appeared earlier, actually, in later childhood, when he'd discovered while conversing with a spirit that he could, while concentrating, hide his inner thoughts from the creature. "I heard tales of Falon'Din's sons and daughters awakening to the gift after emotional trauma or…" He smiled dryly at Tal. "After a period of inebriation."

"Fenedhis," Rosa said, shooting her brother a scolding look. His only reaction was to glare at her, as if offended for some reason, though it had been clear to everyone Tal had a fondness for alcohol.

To keep the siblings from devolving into bickering, Solas continued quickly, "The Fallow Mire is the worst place we could have gone for one with this talent who has no knowledge of how to harness it. The recent plague and death in this area, combined with the weakened Veil, have left the bog imprinted with restless spirits that channel the dead."

"Then it's spirits I spoke to?" Tal asked, scowling. "Not the dead." He sounded relieved. Solas was silent, considering how best to explain, but apparently his face conveyed enough of the answer that Tal groaned and said, "It wasn't just spirits then, was it? It was really the dead." He reached for Rosa, snatching her hand and squeezing as his brown eyes went wide and round. "It was awful, asamalin. I was sitting in one of those dank little fishing huts and I saw sick people—dead people—all around me and they were all talking at once and somehow I understood every word. And I felt what they felt as they died and all of them wanted me to do something for them and…" He broke off shuddering.

From the Fade, while asleep himself, Solas had tasted the harsh metallic flavor of blood in his mouth. It was reminiscent of the Forgotten Ones, powerful demons who had once wielded the Blight as a weapon. When Solas had investigated, expecting to find a powerful demon like the Formless One or Imshael, he'd found Tal instead, his sleeper-self obscured by crimson mist. It was not a dream he could witness, not a scene he could eavesdrop upon, so Tal's dreamlike description wasn't something Solas could verify, but he believed it. He had observed until Tal managed to wrench himself awake. He knew better than to tell Tal that Falon'Din's talent was almost…demonic. It was more akin to blood magic and Blight than Fade-based magic. Solas had not sensed it for over two thousand years.

"As far as how to control this," Solas continued. "In Arlathan those with Falon'Din's ability spent years learning how to master the talent in his temples. Clearly, that is no longer an option." At their fallen, disappointed expressions, Solas added a little more. "I do, however, know that when they wished to quell the ability, they performed a spell I can teach you. There may also be a combination of herbs that can suspend the gift."

"For someone who says he knows very little about it all, you actually know quite a lot," Rosa pointed out, the coy smile shaping her lips again.

"Yeah," Tal agreed, suddenly suspicious. "How do you know? And how did you recognize what was happening to me so fast?"

Solas frowned at their suspicious stares even as his body went cold and clammy with sweat rather than the lingering wetness of the rain. "I felt your changed presence in the Fade," Solas revealed cagily, brow furrowing as he spoke to Tal. "Just as Rosa and I can sense one another as Dreamers, one with Falon'Din's ability stands out distinctive from other sleepers and spirits within the Fade while they are using the talent." He shifted in his spot on the wet grass, making it squelch and squeak. "As for why I know what I do, which I assure you both is limited, I served as Mythal's general during a war between the Evanuris and Falon'Din was our opponent. As such, I had to learn as much as I could about him."

"This," Tal said, passing a hand over his face and wincing. "This talent can be used in a fight? How?"

Solas shook his head. "That I cannot say, though I believe it was used as a form of necromancy, more powerful than any used by humans in Tevinter or Nevarra. Falon'Din was a dangerous, bloodthirsty man, and like all of the Evanuris, he guarded his secrets well." He offered Tal a wan smile. "You are likely the first to possess this talent in two-thousand years."

Tal grunted, puffing out his lips in a pout. "Too bad everyone who could tell me how to tame it and make it work is dead." His face fell as he looked toward Rosa. "Including lenalin."

Solas averted his own gaze, quashing the wince of sympathy that tried to work its way across his face. "I will help in any way I can," he promised and then, with a flick of his hand, let the sound bubble collapse. The shimmering veil between them and the rain disappeared. The endless wet tapping of rain on leaves and grass returned to their ears. "We should return to camp before the others worry. I will meet you in the dreaming, Tal, to teach you the spell."

Tal nodded to him. "Thank you, Rev—Solas." He chuckled as he hauled himself upright. "That's going to take some time getting used to."

"Yep," Rosa agreed, smirking as she moved to take Tal's arm to help him again, but her brother shrugged her off.

"I got this, asamalin." He walked with only a little wobble in his gait as he made his way through the rain puddles and mud.

Solas called magic with a small motion of one hand, blocking the rain to keep himself mostly dry, anticipating that Rosa would follow Tal quickly. Instead he felt her hand on his forearm and paused, lifting his head to look up at her. Rosa blinked against the rain as she stared at him, a solemn expression weighing down her features.

"Thank you," she said, almost blurting out the words. "For helping him. And…" She heaved a sigh, one corner of her lips quirking upward. "Thank you for trusting him enough to tell him the truth." She let go of his arm, wringing her hands together in a nervous motion. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth about Ivun. I just…"

"There is no reason to apologize," Solas told her with a hesitant smile. Considering everything she didn't know about him, Solas couldn't stand to have her feel guilty for her own attempts to mislead him.

She nodded her understanding, relief flitting over her face. "All right then." She drew in a quick breath and started to turn away, but now it was Solas' turn to stop her.

"Rosa," he said and tried to keep his voice and smile polite instead of strained with the anxious knot inside his chest. She whipped back around, dripping in the rain and huddled into her Keeper armor. The expression on her face was somewhere between hope and dread. "We should meet in the dreaming soon," he told her, trying to keep his voice cold and reserved. "I must speak with Rogathe."

She wrinkled her nose. "When I have time, Solas." Then, decisively, she turned and strode back toward the muddy path leading to camp. Solas saw her make the same small gesture he had a few moments ago, banishing the rain and wetness and chill with her magic. It was a trick that had not, as far as Solas had seen, survived the fall of Elvhenan. It lived on only in a few Dalish clans…and in Rosa and, probably, Tal. If things had gone differently, Solas could be allying himself with the siblings, recruiting them to serve his cause just as their father had. In another world he could be struggling with the awkwardness of seeking Felassan's blessing as he courted Rosa properly, like an Elvhen woman—and the great-granddaughter of Mythal—should be romanced. Instead he could only be her guardian and guide her, denying himself and his emotions to safeguard his end goal as Fen'Harel.

Solas let out a huffing sigh, staring down at the wet grass where it glistened in the occasional moonbeam that peeked through the clouds. He summoned a bit of fire in one hand and moved it between his fingers in a calming exercise Mythal had taught him to soothe troubled emotions. He let himself concentrate on that little trick so his mind could empty. It was vital that he control his powers when he had been at full strength. Losing his temper or lashing out in an uncontrolled manner would inevitably kill innocent people, something Solas abhorred.

When he was calm once more and satisfied that enough time had passed that he could return to camp unremarked, Solas trotted onto the path. Mud squelched under his feet and lightning flickered overhead as the rainstorm intensified. The stink of the bog rose with the wind, filling his nose with its nauseating reek of rot. It made him shudder, eager to leave as a sense of foreboding pressed on him from all sides.

Entering camp, Solas made straight for his tent—but his tread faltered slightly when he saw Mahanon glaring at him from where Blackwall had previously been sitting beside the fire. In his lap, Mahanon had an arrow laid out, fletching side up. He still wore his bow slung over his shoulder, ready for use. The other elf's narrowed eyes promised punishment through the burning hate in them, orange from the firelight. Solas half-expected the other man to rise up and nock the arrow in his lap, killing him in his extreme jealousy.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Solas walked to his tent and tried not to let his stomach clench with a mutual derision for Mahanon. Rosa deserved better…


By the time Rosa had defeated the Avvar war-chief and liberated the Inquisition soldiers he held hostage, it was well after dark. The stench of the bog hung heavy in her nose and throat, a constant reek and nauseating taste. Just when she'd thought she'd gone nose-blind to it, the taste and stink of it would return like a slap to the face.

Despite the Avvar war-chief's bravado and formidable archers as backup, he hadn't been much of a challenge for them. Blackwall and Mahanon had taken the most damage, but their wounds and bruises were barely more than superficial. Mahanon had taken a punch to the face from one of the Avvar within the castle, and Blackwall had a bit of a limp from receiving a mace blow that'd knocked his shield into his knee.

Everyone was eager to leave the putrid bog and its waves of undead corpses lurking in the mists and slimy water, but Rosa wanted to investigate the remaining beacons scattered throughout the area. The others deferred to her wishes with little more than weary frowns. Only Tal complained aloud, which was typical for him.

Rosa realized, while trudging through the waterlogged remains of fishing settlements, that somewhere along the line she'd become the de facto leader. Cassandra, if she'd been present, could have still challenged her, but rarely did so. How….bizarre to have power over humans. Then again, her party on this journey was almost exclusively elves.

After activating one of the beacons that'd been off their trail to the castle and killing the resulting undead and demons summoned by its call, Rosa examined the Veilfire rune painted onto the pillar. It gleamed in the greenish light from her torch and when she laid a hand over it, Rosa could feel the magic hidden within it. While the rest of her party either scavenged the area for goodies or stood alert for more threats, Rosa pulled out a bit of parchment and sketched out the new rune.

Tal edged close to her while she worked. "Any chance we can head back to camp now?" he asked with a falsely cheery grin.

Rosa scowled at the sketch she was working on, frustrated by the constant drizzle. It smeared the charcoal, making it run like ink. She had to complete it quickly or she'd never finish it. "The path keeps going a ways, doesn't it?" she asked.

"Well," Tal said with a shrug. "Yeah, but…"

She finished the sketch and began rerolling the parchment to tuck it away. Looking to her brother, she pinched her lips together with concern as she read discomfort in his posture. "Are you feeling all right?"

He shifted, feet making wet noises on the grass and mud. The rain had plastered his hair to his skin and even clung to his eyelashes. His brown eyes were so dark in the gloom they might as well have been black, but despite his eye and hair color, Tal had always been so pale otherwise. His skin tone had been one of many things he inherited from their father. "I'm fine," he told her, but the strain in his voice seemed to suggest otherwise.

Rosa shot him a doubtful look. "Really, da'isamalin?"

He shrugged again, clearly evasive and uncomfortable with speaking openly about it. Rosa made a mental note to ask him what troubled him and if Solas had helped him in the Fade the previous night sufficiently. Rosa still knew so little about this strange gift Tal had inherited. Did it only work while he dreamed? Or did he hear the voices of the dead—or spirits channeling them, or whatever Solas had said—while awake as well?

"There's a rift up ahead," she said, smiling sadly. She could feel the disturbed Veil, warped and twisted and thin in the way she knew now marked the area around rifts. "We'll go far enough to close it and then we'll turn around and head straight for camp." She reached out and clasped his bicep. "Is that okay? If you're feeling sick we can—"

"No," he interrupted her with a shake of his head. "I'm fine." His voice was strong as he spoke, confident enough that Rosa believed him.

With a warm smile and a nod, Rosa circled round the pillar and replaced the Veilfire torch on the opposite side. "Let's move out," she called to where Blackwall stood downhill beside the filthy water. The Warden quickly jogged up the hill, his limp almost invisible though Rosa could see the wrap about his knee.

Solas had remained closer to the beacon, looting abandoned sacks, barrels, and the bodies of the undead they'd slain, so he moved to join her without her calling him. Mahanon was the last to move into a position flanking her because he'd been preoccupied with reclaiming and mending some of his arrows in their short downtime. His left cheekbone was puffy and red, working its way to forming a nasty bruise from the blow he'd taken from an Avvar earlier.

They walked along the muddy path toward a narrow passage between rock formations that shaped a natural amphitheater. On the other side Rosa saw a glade, sodden and elevated enough that it wasn't flooded by the bog. A few small trees and bushes grew, but otherwise the area was just a muddy, grassy field surrounded by rock walls. Ahead, shimmering in the air over a crude statue of what might have been a wolf or a dog, Rosa saw the rift.

It reacted to their presence by rippling, sending a crackling boom echoing from the circular rock walls. Tendrils shot out and where they touched the ground bubbled green-black as spirits torn from the Fade manifested as demons. Rosa tossed up barriers over Blackwall and Mahanon as they ran ahead to take better positions. Solas, lingering to Rosa's left, cast a barrier over himself, Tal, and Rosa before they spread out to attack from all sides.

The first wave of demons materialized, revealing a despair demon that wailed in its screeching, shrill voice. Most of the other demons had manifested as undead. They rose from the sodden earth, bony fingers elongated into claws and teeth warped into fangs even as they brandished swords and bows. An arrow glanced off the barrier over Blackwall as he used his grappling chain to pull in one of the corpses and hack it down. Mahanon shot one corpse that carried a sword through the head, stopping it mid-lurch. Tal hurled fireballs at the despair demon and Solas aided him, dispelling the wailing creature's barrier.

Rosa Fade-stepped through a nearby corpse that'd been aiming at Tal, freezing it solid. When she popped out of the maneuver, she whipped round and thrust with her staff to shatter the corpse. It fell in pieces of frozen flesh, clattering and squashing on the wet ground. Grinning fiercely, Rosa tossed up more barriers over Blackwall and Mahanon, then sprinted to put herself in a better position to help tackle the despair demon, which had begun hurling out freezing ice at Tal. When she had an unobstructed view of the demon, Rosa launched a lump of Fade stone off her staff that collided with the thing with a satisfying crash. Solas and Tal combined forces and flung fireballs at it in an unending barrage of flame that quickly burned the despair demon away into ash.

The rift flickered as it reacted, sending out another wave of demons. Tal tossed a barrier up over himself and Solas this time while Rosa once more covered Mahanon and Blackwall. They waited, watching as the green-black bubbling around the rift gradually revealed another two despair demons, a handful of corpses, and…something else that looked like a dark Templar.

Solas and Tal immediately began attacking the despair demons with fire. The roar of flames, guttering in the rain, filled Rosa's ears as thunder rumbled. She added her own lightning to the fray, spinning her staff and sending purple-white energy arcing between the corpses and the knight-like demon that'd risen. Blackwall grunted as he sent his grappling chain flying, pulling in one of the corpses and cutting it in half with a quick swing of his blade. Mahanon sent fiery arrows into the nearest despair demon and then pivoted about to send a shot into another of the corpses.

Rosa sent Fade stone at the strange knight-like demon, hoping to shatter any armor it might have, softening it for further blows, magic or physical alike. The creature seemed to stumble slightly at the attack but did not fall over or falter the way other demons often did. Rosa spun about and unleashed a fireball on it next and then followed it quickly with winter's grasp and chain lightning in rapid succession, trying to determine this demon's weakness.

The demon turned toward her and stabbed its blade into the earth in a move all-too reminiscent of Templars. The motion made Rosa scowl, perturbed, and then, before she could brace herself or react, the demon motioned at her and Rosa yelped as a wave of vertigo hit her. The world surged forward and Rosa felt her feet slide slick over the mud and grass, scrabbling. The Templar-like demon grew in her vision until it took up almost everything and Rosa realized it had hauled her to it the same way Blackwall did, except this demon had no grappling chain.

"Shit," she cursed, trying to fight, but her arms and legs had gone stiff and heavy. She found herself staring up into its shadowed face, seeing the red coals where its eyes would be beneath its winged helmet. The stink of putrid decay and ashes hit her powerfully, making bile rise in her throat. The sudden jolt of fear that tightened her stomach didn't help either as the demon snatched its sword from the wet earth, splattering her with mud.

The magic released her and Rosa scrambled backward, lifting her staff to parry the blow from its sword as the demon brought the blade down. The force of it made her stagger and fall with a cry. She heard the hard shink of the demon's blade against her staff and heard it waft through the humid air. She landed with a splat and, gasping, tossed up a barrier in panic. It would be her only real defense against the next blow—but she stabbed up and out with her staff anyway, trying to parry, and—

She realized her staff had been split in two by his first blow. Fenedhis!

The demon stabbed for her then and Rosa rolled away. The blade impacted just shy of her with a wet thwack in the grass. Panting, Rosa got onto all-fours, determined to get up and flee, but the demon was too fast. Rosa sensed movement, heard the blade cutting through the air, and dropped flat to roll again, hoping to avoid the blow. Something struck her side, but it seemed glancing and she felt no pain. Landing on her back, heart pounding, Rosa called her magic to fling Fade stone into the demon's face, but she stopped when she saw Solas now stood between her and the dark Templar, blocking her shot.

The demon had its blade lifted high in a downward slice, as if it wanted to cleave Solas in two, but the Elvhen mage had blocked the blow with his staff. A faint green glow emanated from Solas' staff, crackling in a way that was reminiscent of the rifts. Unlike Rosa's staff, Solas' held. Yet, Solas was shaking visibly, as if about to collapse.

With a shout, Rosa got her feet beneath her and thrust out with the ragged end of her staff, stabbing the demon through the side. It jerked backward, its blade making a slick metallic sound as it slid free of Solas' staff. Its movement was so abrupt that the staff pulled clean out of Rosa's rain-slicked hands. The demon's sword thumped wetly on the earth and it did not lift it again immediately. Seeing the opportunity, Rosa shot a small Fade stone from her left fist directly into its face to keep it unsteady. "Die!" she yelled.

Fireballs flew in around the crudely hewn Avvar statue to her left and she heard Tal shouting for her and Solas to get back from the demon. Arrows streaked in from Mahanon, landing with thumps in the demon's shoulder. Rosa gritted her teeth together and launched more Fade stone at the beast, whooping with triumph when the dark Templar demon stumbled backward yet again. Blackwall charged past her then, shouting in his deep voice, shield and sword raised.

Just as Rosa had begun to feel the euphoric pulse of triumph race through her, making her grin and laugh, she saw Solas fall onto all-fours with a splat in the wet grass. "Solas!" she shouted, heedless that she'd forgotten to use the alias everyone knew him by. With everyone else attacking the demon and keeping it distracted and on the defensive, Rosa hurried to his side, dropping onto her knees. "Solas? Are you all right? What's wrong?"

He was breathing roughly, strained with pain. Muscles in his jaw flickered as he let out a little grunt. "I believe," he said with a weak, dry chuckle, "the Revenant injured me."

"Where?" she asked, reaching for him. "Show me."

He started trying to ward her off, moving as though he intended to rise to his feet again—but with a little breathy cry he fell into the wet grass with a splash. Rosa reached for him, trying to roll him onto his back and calling his name, but he kept resisting enough that she could only manage to roll him onto his side. She was dimly aware of Blackwall and the others finishing off the knight-like demon and its greenish essence streaking toward the rift overhead. The rift convulsed and let out a crackling boom, diminishing and raining down warm Fade ether over her and Solas.

"Close the rift," Solas told her through clenched teeth.

Nodding, Rosa thrust her marked hand up at the sky. The fine bones in her hand flared red hot with pain as the Anchor activated and grabbed hold of the rift. She trembled as the pain mounted and the rift shrank in on itself, dribbling out more ether. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she sensed the rift was ready to close and clenched her hand, yanking the ethereal threads closed. The rift disappeared with a slick boom-pop, leaving the sodden glade lit only with the natural light from the moon.

Breathing hard, she looked down at Solas again and felt her stomach clench and leap up into her throat. He had gone pale as snow and dark circles stood out beneath his eyes. His breathing was too shallow and fast. "Solas!" she yelled and tapped his cheek roughly. "Stay awake! Do you hear me, flat-ear?"

He flinched at her touch, blinking a few times against the patter of the rain, but said nothing. Rosa had seen this before—shock. Cursing under her breath, she grabbed his shoulder and pulled, rolling him the rest of the way over.

That was when she saw the red-black stains all over the left side of his tunic and down his thigh. Her mouth fell open with horror as she saw the blood on her hands, warm and crimson and everywhere. Frenzied, Rosa pulled at his clothing, desperate to expose the wound and heal it. She tugged his tunic out of his belt, rolling it up and then pulling his breeches down slightly to see his hip. The demon had sliced him cleanly from hip to shoulder, crossing from his flank to more of his back. At its deepest along his back, Rosa could see blood dibbling out rather than oozing. That meant the demon had struck vital organs or a sizeable artery.

"Rosa?" Tal called out, jogging toward her around the crude Avvar statue. "Are you…" He broke off as he registered Solas and hurried forward with new urgency. "Let me help."

She sensed rather than saw both Blackwall and Mahanon lingering nearby, watching as they tried to save Solas. The glade had gone deathly silent now except for the ongoing hiss of the rain and the gentle rustle of a soft breeze moving through the tree branches. In that relative quiet, Rosa could easily hear Solas' too-fast breathing and knew he would die if they couldn't heal him and do it quickly. But a serious injury like this one might be more than they could heal…

She tried not to think about that as she placed her hands over the bloody slice in his back and willed her mana into the strongest healing spell she knew. Her hands glowed gold-white, the magic sinking into his flesh to knit skin, viscera, muscle, and vital organs alike. Even though she knew the Creators weren't gods and couldn't answer her prayers, she made them anyway. Please Mythal, she thought. Show us mercy. Dirthamen, grant us the wisdom and knowledge to save him. Sylaise, guide our magic and let him heal.

But even as some of the magic sank into him, Rosa could feel much of it leaking away, dissipating like light thrown from a campfire. The wound was resisting her attempts to heal it. Precious time and mana passed as she cursed under her breath and looked to Tal with desperation. "It's resisting," she blurted, shaking her head. "I don't know what's wrong."

Tal pressed his hands to the wound along Solas' back, closing his eyes and furrowing his brow with concentration as he too cast a powerful healing spell. Rosa saw the light glowing at his fingers, sinking into Solas' skin, but the wound did not close the way it should have with that much mana. The blood continued to flow and Solas had begun shaking, another sign of his increasing shock from blood loss. He murmured something incoherent that wasn't in Common or elven but something guttural and ugly and utterly foreign that made Rosa's skin crawl.

Tal let out a growl of frustration. "I don't know what to do," he said, fear making his voice sharp and shrill. "If we can't close it he'll die!"

Heart pounding, Rosa met Tal's eye for a moment and then, her mouth going dry, she made a decision as she reached for the talisman hanging about her neck. Her brother's eyes followed the motion and widened with surprise before he nodded with understanding. Turning her head slightly, Rosa shouted at Blackwall and Mahanon. "Run back to camp," she ordered. "As fast as you can. I need healing potions and poultices and bandages—anything. Go!"

Blackwall moved without hesitation, running for the narrow gap in the circular rock wall, booted feet sloshing and splattering in the grass and mud. Mahanon, however, stayed in his spot. "Let the Warden go," he said. "You both need someone to watch your back."

"I gave you an order!" Rosa yelled at him, spitting in the rain as her heart lurched into her throat all over again.

"And I won't leave you both," Mahanon insisted, a note of anger hardening his voice. "You're preoccupied with saving him but a corpse could come walking up on you and—"

"I don't have time for this," Rosa snapped, turning her full attention back to Solas as soon as she saw Blackwall had disappeared from sight. Mahanon would bear witness to Rogathe after all, it seemed. She hoped he could handle knowing the full truth about her…or, rather, one of her secrets anyway.

Tugging the talisman off and tossing it to Tal, she swayed in her spot as the blood magic spell disappeared and she felt Rogathe surge forward. Her head seemed swollen and the world swam around her. Her breath shuddered as she laid her hands over Solas' wound again and touched her mana core. This time Rogathe would work with her, increasing the potency of her spell and lending its considerable knowledge to her.

Rogathe spun inside her, seeing the world and reacting with urgency. She knew, with sudden dreamlike clarity, what had been preventing her spell. "The Revenant used magic of its own," she said, dimly aware that her voice was too deep and had an odd echo to it. "It resists most healing spells, but there's one that should work…"

But she didn't quite have enough mana to cast it, even with Rogathe enhancing her strength.

Glancing to Tal, she said, "Give me your mana."

His eyes were wide and dark as he stared at her but he acted at once, reaching across Solas' body to let her clasp one of his hands in her own while she laid the other over the still-bleeding wound. She felt Tal's mana open to her as he bowed his head and closed his eyes, letting Rosa draw from him like sipping from a cup.

She shaped the new spell, murmuring under her breath in elven to aid herself in casting. She felt the heat on her palms and her head went hollow and then heavy. Her heart pounded and her mouth went dry. Tal's mana flowed through her and into Solas until she felt her brother begin shaking just as she was. Even with Rogathe to bolster her reserves, this spell was so powerful it would push them both to the edge of burnout.

Finally the spell ended. The gold-white light faded, sinking into Solas' body. The ugly wound closed neatly, leaving only a small ridge of scar tissue amidst the crimson blood. Rosa let go of Tal and felt quickly over the length of the wound, ensuring the spell had worked completely. She blew out a long breath of relief, shoulders sinking, as she realized she'd succeeded. Solas was still deathly pale, but his breathing had slowed and his shaking had lessened.

As she stared down at him, Solas's eyes opened blearily and his brow furrowed as his gaze met hers. His voice was croaky and quiet as he said, "Vhenan…"

Rogathe twisted inside her, hot with rage. Rosa winced and cringed back from Solas, her hands curling into fists. "No," she snarled, then swallowed hard, trying to rationalize the rage away. At least some of it was Rogathe because the spirit despised Solas on principle, but her own pain lay beneath the spirit's reaction. She tried to quash it, to push it down, to tell herself Solas' memory and thinking was probably scattered and confused with blood loss. He didn't mean it—even though this was now the second time he'd reverted to calling her by that term of endearment.

Behind her, Mahanon muttered something nasty and Rosa turned at the waist to glare at him. "Can you stop being jealous for two seconds?" she demanded.

Oddly, Mahanon reacted to her comment by stumbling backward, as if she'd launched a fireball at him or something. He lifted both hands in a defensive motion and his eyes were wide and round. His mouth hung open, gawking on the air, while his features twisted with something akin to horror.

She didn't stop to consider his reaction. It seemed far more important to lecture him on his misbehavior in this moment. "Jealousy is unbecoming and beneath you. Solas' life was just at risk and your selfishness and jealousy cloud your mind so much you—"

"Rosa," Tal shouted from behind her. "Rosa, stop." She felt him paw at her shoulder and turned to frown at him.

"Don't interrupt me, isamalin," she scolded, though she saw he held something out to her, clenched in his fist—and suddenly realization dawned. "Fenedhis," she said as she snatched the raven talisman away from him and pulled it over her head. She was dizzy for a moment before the righteous anger faded and became heavy exhaustion instead, along with the ache of nearly hitting mana burnout.

"You were glowing," Tal told her with a strained smirk.

"Rosa?" Mahanon asked from behind her, his voice croaking. "What…?"

Sighing, Rosa powered through her fatigue and rose to her feet, swaying enough that she lurched for the Avvar statue and clutched it to keep from falling over. Mahanon made no move to try and catch her, the way he would have before. She stared down at the sodden grass at the base of the statue and tried not to feel a sad resignation building inside that she had been right about Mahanon, right to hide Rogathe from him. Still, she had no choice but to come clean now.

"I'm possessed," she said, blunt and to the point, not bothering to look at him. "There's a spirit of bravery inside me."

"Possessed?" Mahanon repeated, almost spitting the word. He had gone motionless, stiff. The deadly tenseness in the air told her he might be about to draw a weapon or possibly flee. Fight or flight, as though she was a wild animal that might attack him and not the same person she'd been the previous night when he'd tried to invite her to his tent.

"Yes," she said, finally looking at him. She saw he'd gone nearly as pale as Solas, staring at her and continuing to gawk as though she were still glowing. "The spirit is a friend of mine. I've known it since childhood. Sometime during the Conclave it…possessed me." She shook her head. "I don't remember when or how, exactly."

"You must get it out of you," Mahanon stammered, snarling. "It's bound to become a demon!"

"Solas was helping me," she said, motioning toward his prone body.

Now Mahanon's posture changed again as he seemed to flinch and then bristle. "Solas?" he repeated. "His name isn't Revas? And you helped hide that from the shemlen? From me?"

She cursed inwardly and rubbed her face with one hand. "Forget that. It's not important. He has another name, that's all."

"Yeah," Tal added. "Big deal. Let's stay focused on the real issue—like how you cannot. Tell. Anyone. You understand, Han? The shemlen will kill her."

Mahanon's expression seemed to indicate he wasn't certain that wasn't the solution. His features flitted between wariness, anger, pain, and outright raw fear. Finally, after a long moment of silence as the rain hissed and pattered around them in the glade, Mahanon said, "You tried to tell me. Last night."

She nodded. "Yeah, but I chickened out. Now you know anyway." She shrugged and pushed off the Avvar statue, motioning again at Solas. "We need to get him back to camp to keep him warm and dry."

"You're sure you aren't possessed by a demon?" Mahanon blurted, staying motionless and a safe distance from her.

Rosa scoffed. "Would a demon help heal him?"

Mahanon eyed her doubtfully. "No…"

"Then you can be sure it's a spirit," she said. "Now, would you mind carrying him? Tal and I are both drained from the healing."

Mahanon hesitated another few moments and then, walking stiffly, he moved forward and knelt to scoop Solas into his arms. When he rose to his feet again, hiking Solas up as best he could—though the Elvhen mage was more thickly built than Mahanon—the archer glared at Rosa. "You have my word I won't tell the shemlen about this."

"Thank you," Rosa said, smiling tightly. "We can talk about this more later when—"

"No," Mahanon cut her off, still frowning. "I don't want to talk about this. I'll need some time alone."

I need some time alone, he'd said, but his tone and the look on his face made it clear he meant to say: I need some time away from you. Rosa stared at him, tense and feeling something burning in her chest despite the fact she'd never been all that attracted to Mahanon. It hurt to have him repulsed by her now when he had always been, for the most part, supportive before.

"Just…" She broke off, turning away more than necessary to motion at the gap in the rock formations. "Let's all get back to camp."

"You lead," Mahanon told her and Rosa wondered if he feared she would stab him in the back or something.

Huffing, Rosa turned and began trotting away. Behind her she heard both Tal and Mahanon following, but she was glad they couldn't see her face as she let herself cry. Rain and tears mixed together on her cheeks until the chill of the air at last left her numb.

At least we're leaving this wretched bog now, she thought. And at least she'd managed to save Solas, with Rogathe's help.


Next Chapter

"Enough," Cassandra snapped, slashing one hand through the air in his direction, clearly losing patience with him. "Just tell him, Leliana."

The other woman wrinkled her nose, irritated with Cassandra, but what she said was, "Very well." Looking to Solas again, she said, "Your name isn't Revas, is it?"

Now Solas drew in a slight breath, steeling himself for whatever was coming. "No," he said, freely admitting it. "My given name is Solas."


Endnote: I had so much fun giving Tal a power. It's Rosa who always gets to be special otherwise, but the power I've given Tal and envisioned for him...it's dangerous. Powerful. You'll be seeing more of it. In fact, it will eventually be rather integral to my future plans.

Thank you to Sutet! Your reviews always crack me up. That would be a hilarious scene to mock up. Solas: BTW, Rosa, Tal...I made your father abandon you and then I killed him. I hope that isn't a big deal. Rosa & Tal simultaneously: WHAT?!

And thank you to KiraChan, you were way closer to the mark there then you thought regarding Tal's new power! And yes, I'm glad I can finally reveal Rogathe to Mahanon and expose how he'll react to that...not well, as you can tell.