Wow. Chapter 20. I honestly didn't think this would go that far. Thank you to those who are reading, left reviews, favorited and/or are following the story, and the silent lurkers! You guys are awesome! Cheers!

HAWKE

It's been an eventful two weeks. Between nearly throwing up my lungs to stop the release of saar-qamek in a Lowtown district, taking out the demon that was plaguing the Harriman family for Sebastian, and confronting Hadriana to defend Fenris, it occurs to me I've had close to no rest. I can feel the effects of it in my aching limbs, and it's obvious it's affecting the others as well by the dull look they have in their eyes.

The only good that's come out of all of this—besides the fact that we saved some lives, earned a bit of coin, and got some exercise—is that Serena's foul mood has blown over for the moment. Apparently killing demons and slavers is her way of coping with whatever's bothering her. And oddly enough, she appears to have garnered more energy and excitement than she had originally, resulting in her being the only person in the group who isn't dead exhausted.

It's a good thing mind you, but it doesn't make it any less confusing or less enviable, at least at the moment.

Maker, I need some sleep…

That's all I can think as Anders, Varric, Fenris, Merrill, Serena, and I make our way out of Lowtown toward the city gates.

I dig my fingers into my hair and ruffle the thick strands, hoping the contact might help wake me up. But it's useless. The afternoon sun heats the tips, only making me feel more tired as the rest of my body warms up in response.

"So… as much as I enjoy traveling in the company of such good looking men and women, someone mind telling me why we're heading to Sundermount?" Serena asks in the silence. I glance back at her and she grins. "Not that I don't enjoy surprises, but having some info might come in handy… You know, in case this involves something life threatening. Like an ambush or blood mages. That way I can keep an eye out for demons, fireballs, arrows, or both. The usual."

With a laugh, I shake my head and shift my gaze forward again, only realizing now that since she caught up with us a little late I've yet to fill her in on the details of our mission. "Nothing like that, although I'm sure you'd enjoy it if it was. We're going to the Dalish to ask the Keeper for an item Merrill needs to fix a mirror of hers." I pause and put a finger to my chin, trying to recall the conversation I had with Merrill earlier. "An… aruluholm? Is that how you say it?" I glance back at everyone. Serena has stopped moving, and so have the others on impulse. Her eyes have grown wide and her smile has vanished. Merrill stands a few feet away, fidgeting with her fingers and looking down at the ground. The mood around us has turn completely sour, as if news of a loved ones death was just delivered to us. "By the looks on your faces, I'm taking that as a no…"

"An arulin'holm? Mirror?" Serena turns to Merrill. "No. Don't tell me…"

"Lethallan, please try to understand…" Merrill whispers.

Serena scoffs and furrows her eyebrows. "Understand? You want me to understand?" Her voice raises and anger overtakes her expression. The loudness draws the attention from a few quiet onlookers that start to gather around us.

"It's for our people. Think of how much we can learn!"

"But at what cost?" Serena shouts and Merrill flinches. Serena closes her eyes and her fists clench. She doesn't continue until her eyes open again and she directs a glare at Merrill. "That… thing… it killed Tamlen. It nearly killed…" She pauses and glimpses off to the side. Biting her lip, she shakes away whatever she was going to say and looks at Merrill. "The Eluvian was to remain broken. That's why we destroyed it. That's why the clan left Fereldan. It is dangerous. You would recreate it and put other people's lives at risk, even our own? Did Tamlen's life mean nothing to you? Does mine? Or are you that obsessed with what has long been forgotten in search for your thirst for knowledge?"

"Of course not. I—"

"Enough!" Serena yells and puts a hand to her forehead. "Mythal's mercy, I do not want to hear your excuses! If you are planning on recreating that dastardly object again, I will have no part in it! I would rather die a thousand deaths than ever see it completed. It should stay broken." She turns to me, an inexplicable amount of pain and hatred filling her teal eyes, making them look like a raging sea in a storm. "Hawke, I am sorry, but you are on your own for this mission. I cannot condone this, not after what it's done to me and the rest of my clan. Creators, I hope the Keeper can convince you out of this."

With that, Serena turns away and marches back in the direction of Lowtown. Before I can rush to try and stop her, a firm hand grasps onto my shoulder.

"Hawke, I'll go after her," Anders insists. He then glances around the group and takes a few steps forward. "You all go on ahead. I'll sit out this time as well," he says over his shoulder. He then dashes after Serena, leaving the rest of us standing there watching in an uncomfortable silence.

SERENA

An unquenchable fire burns within my body as I advance further into Lowtown. My vision feels clouded by the storm of emotion sweeping through me as I recall in vivid detail Merrill's words and actions since we were reunited at Sundermount.

No matter how I look at it, she seemed so innocent, minus the whole blood magic addition. Has she gone completely insane during my absence? Not only has she conspired to work with a demon on Creators know what, now she wants to reconstruct the Eluvian? That Eluvian? Has she forgotten everything we sacrificed because of that mirror? How much we all suffered?

Even now I still feel Tamlen's blood on my hands. His death, my joining the Wardens, all of it was because of that mirror. And she wants to bring it back for a history lesson? What valuable piece of history would that thing provide considering it's already sacrificed one life and is still in the process of taking its second?

"Serena, wait."

I stop and turn around to see Anders tailing after me. "Back off, Anders. I'm not in the mood," I snap.

One corner of his mouth rises into a slight smile as he approaches me. "Sorry, toots. You won't scare me away that easily," he says.

I let out a huff and continue walking, hoping to leave him behind and send him a clear message.

Either he doesn't get it or he doesn't know how to listen because he follows me anyway.

"I understand how angry you must be feeling," he says and walks beside me, a look of pity on his face. "Let's go somewhere quiet so we can talk about it. There has to be some way we can stop it."

"Stop it? You think we can stop it?" I shout and plant both my feet firm on the ground. "That girl… she is determined to reconstruct that monstrosity no matter the cost. I could see it in her eyes. We can't stop it. All we can do is hope that Hawke and the Keeper can deter her long enough before…"

My eyes widen and a plan unfolds in my head.

Yes, if I do that… then…

"Oh, no you don't, love." Anders grabs both of my shoulders and shakes his head, pulling me from my thoughts. "I know that look in your eyes. Don't go hatching up any crazy ideas."

I swat his hands away and scowl. "What else am I supposed to do? Stand back and watch her kill herself? Kill others?"

Anders frowns and stares at me, a bit of hurt reflecting in his eyes.

Guilt fills my stomach realizing I've only been snapping at him. But it's nothing compared to the pain, the strong sense of betrayal, and the anger that's filling me now.

"You have no idea how much I wish that thing had been wiped from the face of Thedas! It deserves no less. It's the cause of all of this!" I explain, hoping he understands my reasons.

He purses his lips and crosses his arms. "So you're just going to waltz right into her home and destroy it? How? Do you even know what kind of reaction that might cause? How many people's lives you might put in danger?"

His words are like a punch to the gut. With a click of my tongue I look away, feeling only slightly ashamed.

"You need to regain your composure. You have every right to be angry, but to act on your emotions in such a manner is not acceptable," he says and grabs my arm. "Come on. Let's go some place quiet to talk about all of this. I suggest your place since it's closest. We can wait there until Hawke and the others get back. I doubt he will let Merrill go through with this, not after your outburst. He's a wiser man than that."

Reluctantly, I nod. "I hope you're right."

FENRIS

Night has fallen, and Hawke, Varric, Sebastian, Serena and I are gathered at the Hanged Man, playing a quiet game of Wicked Grace. Our group returned to Kirkwall four days ago from Sundermount. Since then, the blood mage has locked herself up in her home, refusing to leave the premises.

The reasoning behind her reclusive behavior is because Hawke didn't give her the arulin'holm as she expected—a welcome relief to many of us, especially Serena. Since Hawke informed her of the item's possession, it's as if her outburst never happened. At the mention of the other Dalish however, a glint of anger still flickers in her eyes. It never lasts long though due to everyone takes care to change the subject. A wise move, if I do say so myself.

"Four Serpents. Looks like I win again, boys," Serena says and places her cards face up on the table, returning me to the present moment.

Hawke and Varric both groan in unison, and I place my cards on the table. This is her third win tonight.

"By the stone, how do you do it? I've kept my eye on you the whole time," Varric exclaims and slams his fist on the table.

Serena grins and pats Hawke and I on the back since we're the ones seated beside her. "Luck is on my side, Varric. That's all you and your stories need to know."

As if on cue, Norah stops by our table to serve us our fourth round of drinks we ordered. She places a mug in front of each of us, but the moment she puts one in front of Serena, Hawke snatches it away from her and downs it in a few gulps.

Serena glares at him and shifts her body toward him. "How long are you two going to keep doing that?" she snaps and eyes me as well since I took the last mug. "Can I not have even one sip of alcohol?"

Hawke narrows his eyes at her. "You've had enough alcohol in your past to probably drown the entirety of Kirkwall. You don't need another pint, especially tonight. We need you alert and ready to walk to the WoundedCoast tomorrow. None of us are going to carry you on our backs."

"One drink won't result to that!"

Sebastian places his cards on the table and looks to Varric. "What exactly happened three weeks ago? Was it that bad to condemn her consuming alcohol?" he asks, his voice thick with his Starkhaven brogue.

"That depends on your own opinion, Choir Boy," Varric replies. "To give you the gist of the situation, Serena got more sloshed than a dwarf after winning a proving championship, planted one on Fenris, and then passed out in his arms. The two of them ended up watching her until dawn to make sure she didn't die of alcohol poisoning." He pauses to motion to Hawke and me, and then sends a smirk in my direction. As soon as Serena shifts her attention on me, I look away, the memories of that night flitting through my mind in one rapid second and heating up my face at the realization of the truth of his words. "Fenris could tell you all of this himself mind you, if you don't believe me. My sources are usually correct though. I personally think his face says it all."

"Quiet, dwarf," I growl and take a sip of my ale.

"Well, this is news to me," Serena chimes. "I remember getting sloshed, but it looks like you got a little something else out of it." She leans close to me and gives me a mischievous smile.

"It was nothing. You were intoxicated. We'll leave it at that."

At my words, Serena frowns and goes back to her regular sitting position.

"Don't listen to him, sweet thing," Isabela's familiar sultry voice purrs from behind us. Serena and I look back and suddenly Isabela's tan, lithe arms are around Serena's neck in a soft embrace, her cleavage pushing against the side of her face. "I would love to have a taste of those lips of yours, whether you are sloshed or not," she says, and lifts Serena's chin and attempts to pivot it toward her.

Serena smiles and pushes away. "Nice try, Isabela. I'm not that drunk… yet."

Isabela pouts and releases her. "Spoilt sport," she murmurs and sits down across from us, right next to Sebastian.

The rest of the night continued in this fashion. Everything seemed to be going fine. But at the end when we were all about to leave the tavern, I noticed a troubled look on Serena's face.

For a few long moments, she just stared down at the floor, her gaze concentrated as if trying to listen to something.

Before I could say anything, she turned around and looked around the tavern. Whatever she was looking for, it's unclear if she found it. She simply returned her gaze to the ground and excused herself, the same troubled expression on her face, leaving me to wonder what could be bothering the Dalish now... and if I should be concerned about it.