Fenris got out of bed and picked his clothes up from the floor. Elias impatiently tapped one foot while Fenris got dressed. When he reached for his chest piece, Elias made an irritated noise.

"You don't need that," he hissed. "Come on."

Caught by hesitation again, Fenris paused for a moment. What if this was some kind of trick? Elias hated him; why would he be up to anything good in the middle of the night? Did Elias hope to punish him now that the truth was out about his sons? Was that why he wanted Fenris to leave his armor behind, to have him as vulnerable as possible?

"Are you coming or not?"

Fenris put the steel chest plate back on the ground. If Elias had wanted to kill or otherwise harm him, he could easily have struck while Fenris was asleep. There had to be a reason for this sudden secrecy. Elias had inquired about giving up the search for information on the markings. Why was that so important to him?

Unable to completely shake the suspicion that he was making a mistake, Fenris nodded in the darkness. "I'm coming," he whispered to Elias.

The old elf immediately turned on his heels and left the room. Fenris briefly looked at Hawke, who still was vast asleep. He hoped he would be back before Hawke woke up. If Hawke found Fenris missing from their bed again, the mansion might be too small to contain his anger. Fenris was not looking forward to another confrontation. Once he had rather enjoyed the debates with Hawke, the back-and-forth about magic and its dangers, about freedom and moving on, leaving the past behind. Of course they had been frustrating as well, but now Fenris almost longed to go back to those arguments. Their current disagreements were so strong that it was no longer possible to simply agree to disagree, and the sharp edge of desperation of it all left neither side unharmed.

With a last look at the man he still held so dear, Fenris turned around and went after Elias.

"I'm ready," he said.

Elias took a lantern which had been standing on a nearby table. "Let's go then."

"Where are we going exactly?"

Elias started walking. "You'll see."

Suppressing a sigh, Fenris followed. I hope I am not going to regret this.

"Fool."

Elias led him down the stairs and through various hallways and corridors without saying a word. For a long time Fenris knew where they were, but as they went deeper and deeper into the mansion, farther and farther away from the living areas, his uneasiness grew. Reacting to his nervousness, the markings began to glow, pulsate, flicker, and glow some more. The blue light shone on the walls and surfaces around them. By the looks of it they were in some kind of storage room.

Elias looked back at Fenris. "Can't you turn those off?" he asked, annoyed.

Fenris made a halfhearted attempt to stop the markings' activity, but as he had anticipated, it made no difference. "No."

With a last irritated huff Elias continued his way. Fenris struggled to keep up with him. His curiosity was wearing thin, gnawed at by his weariness. The thought that he had to stay alert, be prepared for dirty tricks, was what kept him going now. He was beginning to doubt his previous conclusion about Elias' intentions again. Where were they going? Was Elias luring him away to the darkest corner of the mansion to kill him? Had he not assaulted Fenris in his sleep because he had been afraid to alert Hawke?

And yet Fenris kept following Elias. Perhaps his curiosity was not worn out completely yet. After more silence, more walking, Fenris decided to ask one of the questions that kept racing through his mind. "Why have you never said anything?"

Elias did not slow his speed, nor did he look over his shoulder to indicate he had heard Fenris. Fenris already believed the slave did not wish to talk and would not answer, when Elias shrugged. "You never asked."

"I lost my memory. What did you expect? That I read your mind to know what had transpired? How was I supposed to know?"

Silence.

Realizing that this direction of the conversation would take him nowhere, Fenris retreated and changed the subject. "Why the reverence for Danarius? Even when you hold me fully responsible for taking the lives of your sons, do you really think Danarius is blameless? That he was an honorable person? I have seen him kill a young boy to entertain his guests. Danarius was a monster." Fenris fell silent, fearing that he had only annoyed Elias more with his brief tirade.

Elias' next words were soft-spoken, barely audible, so Fenris almost believed they had sprung from his own mind rather than Elias' mouth. "Their deaths can't have been for nothing. There must have been... a reason. A purpose. It can't have been pointless."

"So you made yourself believe that serving Danarius was a good thing? That he was a good master?"

No response.

"Slavery never serves a higher purpose, Elias," Fenris said. "The masters might think so, tell others that, but for the slaves it is pointless. No reason is great enough to literally own somebody's life. Your sons didn't have to die. They shouldn't have died. They died because Danarius didn't care about them, or me; he cared about his precious project, about finding someone to experiment on."

If Fenris expected words to defend Danarius, they did not come. Elias still did not look at Fenris, still did not slow down. "Perhaps."

Feeling that he had achieved something here, Fenris was able to force his exhaustion more to the background. Perhaps it was possible to reason with Elias after all. Perhaps he was not so blind for Danarius' shortcomings as he had thought. He was still thinking on what the next thing would be to say, when Elias took the initiative in the conversation. "Why did you murder the slaver?"

Fenris shrugged, then realized Elias could not see this with his back to him. "I'm not sure. I wanted to show the Tevinters that they are not as invulnerable as they like to believe. I wanted to do something to avenge the deaths of all those slaves outside of the city walls. It seemed... right at the time."

"Your barbarian did not seem pleased."

"I..." Fenris sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Hawke does not agree, no. He wants to save me. I suppose I would want the same if I were in his shoes."

"You do not wish to be saved?"

"I... of course I do. But not when others will have to pay the price for it. If we find Danarius' documentation on the ritual, the magisters will most likely get their hands on it, and they will use that knowledge to infuse lyrium into other slaves, and I can't... I can't allow that to happen. The pain of the ritual was unimaginable; it wiped every memory I had. Hawke says it has broken me. I cannot claim that my survival is so important that it justifies others having to undergo the same."

The silence returned and stayed for a long time. Elias led Fenris around another corner, holding the lantern in front of him, although that was hardly necessary with the light from Fenris' markings. Fenris wondered if Elias was thinking about his sons, if he was trying to imagine what they would have had to go through if either of them had survived the tournament.

"It is ironic," Elias eventually said, "that killing Danarius is what is now causing your own deterioration."

It was Fenris' turn to remain silent. There was not a day that went by without being confronted with this cruel irony, that he was not reminded of the twisted way Danarius had managed to bind his life to Fenris'. What has magic touched that it doesn't spoil?

Not content with the lack of reply, Elias pressed on. "Was it worth it?"

"It was." Fenris did not need to give his answer any consideration. "I would do it again, given the choice."

"You wish to die then? Is that it?"

"No." Fenris thought of Hawke, and felt his stomach clench. No, he did not wish to die. Not at all. He had barely been free, had barely had time to enjoy what he shared with Hawke, when the markings had begun to grow unstable. When magic had reclaimed its prominent part in his life. It was so unfair. He had had so little time, and so much of it had been tainted by the influence of demons. Fenris realized he was not even certain how much exactly. The progress had been so subtle, so gradual in the beginning, that he had only truly realized something was wrong when he had almost killed Hawke. What if the first demon had already found its way into his mind at the moment Fenris had torn out Danarius' heart? What if the influence had started then? Perhaps his realization that he could not live without Hawke had not been his at all... That thought made him feel sick. How much of his relationship with Hawke had been under the influence of demons? How much of it had been tainted by it?

What has magic touched that it doesn't spoil?

Fenris was so consumed by these new realizations that he did not notice at first when Elias had stopped. After several steps he became aware of the fact that Elias was no longer walking in front of him. When he looked around, he saw the slave standing next to an old tapestry with the symbol of the Chantry's sun.

"This way."

The question what way Elias meant was on the tip of Fenris' tongue, when the elf pushed the tapestry aside and disappeared behind it. When Fenris followed his example, he discovered a secret passage hidden behind the tapestry. With a jolt he realized he had never known of this. In all the years he had served Danarius, he had never been here. Fenris had always thought that he knew every corner of the mansion, that Danarius had entrusted him with everything there was to know of the place where he lived. It turned out he had been wrong. Danarius had kept secrets even for his most precious slave. Except for Elias, apparently.

The demons, always with a clear, yet twisted view on his mind, found reason to torment him. "Jealous?"

"Did the sweet master lie to his dearest pet?"

"Do you think he's had the old elf as well?"

"Guess you were not the favorite after all."

The secret passage was narrow. Even if they had wanted to walk next to each other, it would not have been possible.

They did not have to go very far now. Soon they stood in front of what looked to Fenris like a solid wall.

He waited without saying anything for a while, trying to suppress both his instincts and the voices of the demons that told him to take action, fight or run away if need be. Before him Elias appeared to hesitate, but eventually he turned around and looked Fenris in the eye.

"I'm still not certain about this, but I suppose it's too late to turn back now."

Fenris' hand had curved into a claw, ready to take a plunge at Elias' heart, or - if the markings would fail to cooperate - grab the slave's throat.

But Elias turned his back to him again and focused his attention on the wall. He mumbled a few things to himself; Fenris thought he heard him count in Arcanum. Then he placed his hand on a stone in the wall which looked exactly like all the other stones, and the wall disappeared. Though Elias did not show his face, Fenris sensed a satisfied smirk through the back of the slave's bald head.

"If I wanted to kill you, I could have had your food poisoned in the kitchen."

Elias stepped into the room which had been revealed; Fenris went after him.

It was dark inside, but several magical orbs reacted to their presence and began to light up. At first sight the room did not look very impressive. The walls were nothing but cold, undecorated stone and the few pieces of furniture were simple: a desk, a chair, a few cabinets and a bookcase.

The only unusual aspect was the floor. In the middle of the room symbols had been drawn on the stone. Elaborate, complex runes and other symbols formed an intricate pattern that contained a power Fenris could have felt even without the tingling sensation spreading through the lyrium.

As the orbs began to shine more brightly, more of the room was revealed. A shimmer near the pattern on the floor caught Fenris' eye. He took a step forward to see what it was, then stopped as he realized. Chains. The metal rings were attached to the floor and reflected the magical light like jewelry.

He could not remember ever being here before, but still something about this room felt awfully familiar. It was like he was staring into the face of someone whose name and the occasion during which they had met could not recall. Besides the chains there was nothing that could be interpreted as even slightly threatening, and yet Fenris could not shake the sense of a lingering darkness... of something unpleasant, something bad... of something that was not right.

Elias was standing next to him. "This is where the ritual has been performed."

His mouth felt dry. The weariness, the constant struggle to remain in control of his own mind and the fear of losing that struggle, the desperation of the inescapable idea that his death was near, the knowledge that he was standing in the room where it had all begun, nearly brought him to his knees. It made no sense; this all made no sense. He had almost accepted it, accepted that there was no escape, no stopping it. He had thought that Danarius' presence was equally strong in nearly every room of this cursed mansion, but nowhere was it as strong as here. Danarius' essence was in every stone, his excited whispers in every dusty corner. Fenris almost backed away from the memory of fingers caressing his face, pushing the wet hair out of his eyes. "You're doing very well, little wolf. You're going to be so perfect."

He looked at Elias, not understanding why he had been brought here, why Elias was doing this to him, why this room was so awful that he could hardly breathe... Why. Why?

"Why?"