Chapter 21: The Breaking Point

Summary: Solona and the party go on a wolf hunt, but it is not clear who is the prey exactly.

The little girl walks in the woods. The Big Bad Wolf waits her to swoop. The nursery rhyme echoed in the forest like a cruel mockery, like vultures circling waiting to feast over her. Every time she heard this song she shuddered, faltered and involuntarily looked around, gripping the shaft of her staff like she could see the demon snickering like a mad woman in her voice.

She stood before the mad hermit, answering his never-ending questions, feeling her patient reaches her limits hearing the demon whispering into her ears.

Why are you always playing useless and timewasting games instead of just taking away what you have come for? Her nails deepened into the shaft to ease her tension. Look at him, how pathetic. How much time is needed to you to end like this? He hear the spirits, just like you, he listens to them just like you. And he has nobody to love and nobody loves him, just like you.

Solona closed her eyes and took the breaths deep trying to pacify the energies in her, trying to not listen to the demon but nothing eased the increasing and consuming rage in her. She so hated the Brecilian Forest and everybody who forced her to enter these cursed wilds, the demon who allured her, this hermit who wasted her time, her companions who thought she was insane and maybe they were right.

"My turn." the hermit snickered amusedly by his own game. "Tell me pretty little mage girl, do you feel the calling of the blood?" Of course you do. The demon answered to her. You feel the sweetness of the unlimited power it provides. And I know you want to taste it. Just a few drops needed...

"Enough of your games, old man." She yelled like she could hush away the whispers with it. "Just give me that damned acorn."

"NONONO." he grunted angrily starting to stomp up and down. "You not play the game right. We trade a question to a question." She felt the spell demanding to be casted in her veins.

"I don't care your stupid game. Give me that fucking acorn." She hissed, gripping her staff intimidatingly and the next moment the hermit summoned two rage demons ready to strike but she with a brawl and a swift and strong ice spell froze them all, and with a blast they shattered into tiny frostbites covering the green grass with dust of snow. She panted over the remnants hearing the dead silence around her.

"Find me that fucking acorn." She yelled and heard the nervous shifting behind her as they searched the hermit's stuff and abrubtly a gentle hand landed on her shoulder.

"Are you all right?" Alistair asked in worried voice. Her eyes were still that the dust snow, watching her handiwork.

"What do you think?" she asked back, feeling the tears gathering in her eyes. She felt that he closed the distance between them, the heat of his body, even through his dragon scale armor. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and planted a soft kiss on it. "Be strong, just a little bit more." he whispered and stepped away from her. And the tears like a flood trickled down her face, burning her like the acid, and an aching knot formatted in her throat.

"We found it." Leliana exclaimed. Solona wiped dry her watery eyes, took a deep breath to steel herself, but it was harder day by day. She raised her eyes on Alistair trying to find some strength in him, what she did not have anymore.

Do you think he is really in love with you? What a naive little chit you are. The demon snickered sarcastically into her ears, and it was like a twisting dagger in her already bleeding heart.

The elven ruins were the worst of all. It was like Haven, if not worse. Not the darkspawn they encountered or the werewolves whose waves were seemingly countless, but the ghost inhabited it, whispering her to in Dalish, showing her the fragments of the violent past, shadows ran through the corridors leaving icy breezes behind. And with every rushing phantasm made the air musky filled with repressed violence of the bygone era, making her feel uneasy and unwittingly searching for Alistair's hand.

"Tell me that you see these ghosts too and I've not completely lost my mind." She whispered to him. He grabbed her hand as an answer tangling their fingers.

A growl and another pack of werewolves ambushed them. Alistair drew his weapon releasing her hand and with a brawl attacked them. Leliana showered them with arrows and Zevran like a shadow got behind them slitting their throat with his daggers. Solona casted ice spells to slow them down or made them immobile while Morrigan shape shifted into a giant spider poisoning them with lethal venom and soon they defeated them. Solona healed the wounded Zevran while Alistair searched the perimeter, but everything became silent... too silent and a bad premonition flooded her. And the next moment...

"ALISTAIR!" She cried paralyzing the werewolf with a crushing prison before he could strike on him, tightening the coils of her invisible magic around it, until she felt it deepening into his skin.

"I came to speak with you, Dreamwalker." It heaved chokingly as her spell narrowed around its throat and the shock made her magic disappear and the beast collapsed to the ground but she had enough composure to make it immobile again before it could do anything.

"How do you know that name, beast?" She hissed as towered over the werewolf, tightening her magic once again.

"My Lady ordered me to call you like this." it answered. "She wishes to speak with you."

"Your Lady?" she asked.

"The Lady of the Forest. I'm Swiftrunner. Her First." She tightened the spell around the beast which began to fight for air under it.

"Why should I believe you? You've just wanted to attack us." she hissed and felt some inexplicable power as the werewolf's life was in her hands and she needed only a tiny more and she could break its neck.

"The Lady ordered to tell you she knows your struggle. The Beyond talked to her and she wants to help." Solona looked into the beast wolfish eyes searched something humanity in it, some sense, some honest.

Kill it. She heard the demon ordering her and the remained resistance in her gave enough strength or boldness and she ceased the spell making it to cough deeply before it stood up. Now he towered over her threateningly and snarled. She heard Alistair drawing out his weapon, but before he could strike the Swiftrunner began to run ordering them to follow it.

The Lair was protected with primeval and cursed magic, what made the feeling that she walked the Fade itself. She felt the tinkling vibrations on her skin, causing goose bumps and felt her magic begin to surge in her violently invoking the rage what she could keep it in bay in a so weary way. The demon was behind her, she felt circling her, following her every step as approached the ladylike creature before her. Its jet-black eyes measured Solona. It was unlike any spirit she has ever known or met.

"Welcome, Dreamwalker." the creature greeted her. "I've been waiting for you."

"You know who I am?"

"The Wall is broken here, many of us comes to this world through the breaches. Some of us to feast on pain and suffer, some of us to help, and some of us was invoked by mortal forces to be bound. But we hear the others, speak with them. You roamed the Land of Dreams for a long time until an evil spirit found you, now you are in dissension, fear, confusion and the spirit has so much power over you that your friends can't reach you to help." She heard the demon's disgusted snort.

"Which spirit is you, Lady? You came here to help, or you are craving for pain?" She asked running her eyes trough the creature suspiciously.

"I was invoked by a curse, one who harbors vengeance and hatred." the spirit replied.

"The humans tortured the Dalish boy, and raped the girl, who when found out she is pregnant killed herself." Swiftrunner took the word from the Lady. "Keeper Zathrian came here, this cursed place what held so many sorrow and pain and summoned a powerful spirit, binding it into a great white wolf's body. Whiterfang came to be. It hunted the humans, bathed in their blood and many was cursed and became mindless and savage creature like me. The Lady gave us purpose and reason, peace." And the werewolf lowered on half-knee before the spirit.

"So the Keeper misled us. Why am I not surprised?" Alistair snorted.

"And what do you exactly want from us, spirit." Solona asked taking a step to the creature.

"The crime was committed against the Dalish were dire and grave, but happened centuries ago. Now the corruption spread in the whole forest. Zathrian always denied my request to speak, he left me no choice but infect his people to end this thing."

"What?" Solona exclaimed. "You want to end the curse made by violence with more violence? What are you exactly? What is your purpose? Vengeance?"

"That's why I need you, Dreamwalker." the Lady replied. "Speak to Zathrian, convince him to come here and end the curse. I want peace, and nothing else. There is no need to spill more blood, Dreamwalker."

"Very well, spirit, I'll bring Zathrian here." she agreed. You want to bargain with a spirit who is bound for vengeance?" You want to break your oath to bring its heart to the Keeper? You are not just weak and pathetic but a traitor too. And still you resist me... The demon whispered to her ears. Solona tried to ignore its word the evil truth in them, but still for an invisible moment twitched, but when Alistair took his hand on her shoulder protectively and she knew if nobody else, he noticed her temporary vulnerability.

Solona returned with Zathrian, confronting him with the truth, the fact he lied to her. She practically begged to him to speak with the spirit and end the curse. And for some unexplainable reason the Keeper listened to her and they returned to the lair of the werewolves together. As they entered the room echoed the intimidating snarl of the werewolves from everywhere and Solona readied her staff as looked around and saw the hatred and rage in their eyes. The rage she knew too well.

"You wanted to speak with me, spirit, so here I am." he said.

Swiftrunner rushed to the elf and towered over him threateningly. "You are speaking with the Lady of the Forest. Address her properly." The beast snarled.

"So you have taken a name." the Keeper chuckled sarcastically. "And gave name to your pets."

"They gave me the name as well as for themselves." the Lady riposted. "They follow me because I remind them who they are."

"They are no better than their ancestors." Zathrian yelled. "Wild savages, the only difference that now they look like their soul. Twisted and rotten." The room began to echo the angry snarls again and Solona readied her staff for everything and heard that the others also stood in attention. Only the lightest spark was enough to unleash the chaos on them. "They will answer for the sin of their ancestor's crime until the seas dry out and the mountains drift away like sand." he hissed.

"Are you sure you want the curse to remain to serve as your eternal retribution?" the spirit asked and turned to Solona. "To bound a spirit, to create such a powerful curse needs sacrifice, Dreamwalker. Blood sacrifice."

"Blood magic?" Solona exclaimed. "Are you insane, Zathrian?"

"Do you think vengeance is pure, Warden?" the Keeper shouted at her. "Violence brings more violence. I wanted my children be avenged, so I bonded my life with the spirit. I served justice, an example what will stands centuries after your bones crumbled to the void." Now he turned to Solona. "You can help me and do why you came here or get out of my way, shem. Your choice but I won't let my people as the prey of these beasts."

Why are you letting this filthy elf dictate to you? The werewolves would do the job either. I feel the rage in you wants to break through you. Let it go.

"Enough!" she grunted casted a fire blast making Zathrian falling through the room, smashing to the stone wall. She was so fed up. So fed up with the voices in her head, the people who always betray her trust that the rage wanted to tear her apart. Everything accumulated in her culminated in that one spell. All the pain, bitterness and disillusionment formed to a raging power in her what was greater than any what a mortal could experience.

"Do you think I care for the elves? That their lives matter something for me?" she hissed as struck a thunder whip ripping his skin open. "I killed a whole Circle of blood mages, the ones I grew up with." And she struck on him again, sniffing the sweet scent of his blood, feeling the rage surging in her, washing every humanity away from her, breaking through every obstacle. "I slaughtered an entire village to get a pinch of ash to heal an Arl whose son flooded a town with undead and hundreds of innocents died."

Another strike. She heard a rustle calling her name, but the pulsation of blood in hear ears suppressed every other voice. She walked to the old elf, towering over him and formatting a globe lightening in her hand. "I need allies and I really don't care it's you or the werewolves." She hissed through her teeth as watched the pathetic elf taking his hands cover his head in self-defense. She did not see a living thing anymore. She saw a subject over what she had power and this feeling intoxicated her. She could decide over life and death and this was the greatest might in the world. Not a crown on one's head or the magic flowing through her veins. This was the primal power, the source of everything else.

Kill him. The demon ordered and she wanted, truly wanted. She felt the electric jolts of her own spell running through her muscles, demanding to strike. But before she could unleash it somebody grabbed and yanked her wrist and the globe lightning vanish from her hands and the world became sharp again.

She saw Zathrian covered with blood and bruises caused by her, heard the maniac laughter echoing from anywhere, feeling the fingers tightening around her wrist in a trembling grip. She looked through the statuesque faces filled with dismay, and her eyes ran along the hand what held her and met with those hazel ones seeing the dread in them, and the breath stuck in her, muscles began to shake and her staff fell from her hand falling to the ground. The knock echoed in the dead silence of the room and she felt every single blaming glare piercing her skin. Alistair slowly released her wrist and in that very moment their skins ceased to contact she collapsed.

"I beg you Zathrian." she heaved, her voice trembling in the verge of crying. "Don't force me to kill more. I had seen enough death already. And I'm sick of it."

How pathetic. She heard the snort.

The Keeper slowly got on his feet. Now he was the one who looked down on her. She felt his eyes on her. He was the one who was covered with wounds and yet Solona was the one who was defeated. By her very own self. Now he was the one who sat judgement over her.

"Will you let my people live?" he asked. She nodded. "Give me your word, Warden, if it really means something."

"I swear to my life that we will be no harm to your people in any way, Keeper. Ar lasa mala ma dirth, hahren." She saw the adamant spark in Zathrian's eyes fading away. He walked to the Lady, ready to die. Alistair helped Solona on her feet what barely held her. She couldn't look up and look into their eyes just stared the ground.

"Dreamwalker." the spirit addressed her. "The only way to be free is to embrace change. You can't step backward or stand in the still water." Solona raised her tear-streaked eyes on the Lady. "Nothing is lost until the last spark of light flames in the darkness." And the next moment it evaporated into the void as Zathrian lifeless body collapsed to the ground. The curse was lifted. But Solona felt nothing else just shame and emptiness.

Her feet barely held her as they exited the ruins and with every step she became weaker and weaker as she recalled in herself how bestial and merciless she was. The intoxicating feeling what ran through her as struck on the elf again and again twitching every time as remembered the smell of ozone her thunder whips left behind, the scent of freshly spilled blood and the temptation to shed more. Eventually her legs sagged and she landed in the dirt. She was end of her strength. The demon drained every humanity from her and nothing left behind just an empty husk waiting for it to possess.

"Solona, are you all right?" Alistair rushed to her helping her to stand up.

"Yes." She heaved feebly. "Just give me some time alone."

"But..." Alistair insisted.

"I said give me some time alone." she said and pushed him away from her and began to run away, like she could escape from the demon, from the Blight, from everything, like she could run away from herself. She ran until her legs gave up and she ended up falling into a puddle staining her clothes with mud and dirt.

What a pathetic worm you are. She heard the demon as felt it circling around her. You have no gut to do what is right, what is necessary. You are preaching about the sinfulness of blood magic and yet you are craving to shed it.

She slowly got on her feet and felt that her magic began to surge in her so violently that she thought the next moment it will strain her apart. She felt it leaving her body and felt the fire tornado formatting around her whirling around consuming everything into ash, heard the sound of the flickering flames what became a roar around her. A firestorm raged around her and she could do nothing to stop it, just stood there, squeezing her eyes and letting it to rampage. She did not care that it will destroy the whole forest and every living creature in it. This place was too unholy to remain even. She felt the flames licking her skin, caressing it. The fire always gave her certainty.

You are afraid to begrime your hand. How could you save these people if you are not good enough to save yourself, to live? She felt the demon behind her coming closer and closer and felt that her invisible magic embraces it.

You are weak. It whispered to her ears an in that very moment a hand landed on her shoulder. And something broke in her flooding her body with insane desperation.

"I'm not weak. I'm not weak. I'M NOT WEAK:" She shouted frantically as turned around and tightened the spell around it, burning it away. It dared to masquerading Alistair. Screamed in his voice and this just was oil on her insane rage and tightened it more feeling as it deepened in his skin.

The hand was still on her shoulder gripping it hard and a moment later something flushed through her, washing everything away from her and she heard nothing else just deafening hoot in her ears and felt her magic fade away, leaving nothing else behind just agony and emptiness. She screamed and collapsed to the ground. It was more agonizing than the lyrium charring her veins, like any physical pain she has ever endured. The flames vanished around and nothing else left behind just ash and smoke.

She was on her hands and knees still shaking by the shock of the wave of blocking energy flowing through her body, leaving her mind starve for magic. She only heard about the Holy Smite before, but as it flushed through her body, charring her veins, cleansing it from the taint of magic, everything became agonizingly and unbearably clear. Realizing the dreadful truth what she had just done.

He was on her knees too. Solona heard his shallow and trembling breath as tried to swallow the pain she caused. She felt that unmistakable, sickening stink of burned flesh and the ash of the scorched earth and trees. The scent of destruction. And she had no fortitude to look up and face with her handiwork. She just kneeled in the muddy dirt, staring the ground underneath her. There was silence, even the song of the birds and the rustle of the leaves vanished and her mind was free from the whispers, the only sound she heard her own heartbeat and Alistair's erratic wheeze.

"I can't do this anymore." She said feebly as the noises of shifting came from him and the steps coming forward her.

"Please, Alistair, if you really care for me, be a good templar and kill me." she pleaded not looking up at him.

"Is that what you really want?" he asked through his teeth, his voice trembling, Solona couldn't decide that by the pain, the sorrow or the rage.

She nodded. "I'm nothing more but a dead weight slowing you down. A pathetic plaything of the demons. I can't even save myself, how could I save Ferelden? Or slay the Archdemon?" He didn't respond just stood over her in accusing silence.

Solona Amell never breaks. She did. She was laying on the ground defeated and vulnerable without her magic and pleaded for death to the only man who has ever understood her who she ever cared for. "I beg you Alistair, end this right here."

Stillness, blaming and agonizing stillness for minutes, nothing moved, waiting for the judgement. She heard the metallic sound as the blade leaves its case and twitched, finding herself that recited the Chant of Light in silence.

Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written. She felt the swish of the sword over her head and squeezed her eyes bracing herself to the meeting with the Maker if he truly exists. He hesitated for agonizing seconds

"DO IT!" She screamed and with a painful brawl what shook the whole forest, made the birds flee away, the weapon struck.

The blade landed biting into the ground. Solona looked at it, seeing her own reflection on the steel.

"Do you think that any of us would be alive without you?" he hissed. "I would have killed Morrigan in the moment we met her at Ostagar. I would have let Sten rot in his prison as the prey for the darkspawn for what he had done and Leliana in the Chantry among her daydreams. I would have let the Knight-Commander to enact the Annulment and I would have cut Zevran's head from his body without hesitation." He crouched to her trying to find her glance. "And probably I would lie dead somewhere by now."

She shook her head still facing the ground. "It's not true." she said.

"It is." he shouted making her twitch by his voice. "What do you think how could I have saved Connor without you? Sacrificing Lady Isolde? Or just kill the poor boy? Or how could I enter the Dalish camp without turning the whole situation into a massacre?"

"I almost killed the Keeper because of my rage." she yelled. "If you hadn't stopped me I would have done it."

"He was dead already, driven by his mad revenge for what happened generations ago." He riposted as stood up from her, taking his sword back to its case. She took a glance on his leg, the scorch marks her madness caused and a wave of pain washed through her.

"If you want to die, do it yourself." And he dropped his knife on the ground just before her. "I'm done telling you what you are not. It's like screaming to a deaf." She heard the limping steps receding from her, leaving her alone with the emptiness inside her, with her starvation to feel the magic in her veins and with that agonizing loneliness and with the lead-heavy weight of her deeds.

Her hand reached out for the weapon and slowly she sat on her knees, not taking her eyes away from the blade. She took it out from its case and watched her reflection on the metallic surface. She touched the blue veins of her wrist with the edge of the knife, tightening her fingers into a fist and gathered her every courage, but her hand did not move to slit her skin open. She tried again and again but her will never turned to an action. The blade stayed over her wrist adamantly.

The demon was right. She was weak to do what was right.

Her fingers loosened and the knife fell out from her hand. And a scream burst out from her, so painful that she hoped it would summon every demon in that cursed forest to consume her. But nothing happened, nobody came and she just sat there in the middle of the forest with her frantic helplessness and cowardice. The Lady was wrong there was no light in the darkness.

She felt her magic flowing in her again as she reached the Dalish camp. She felt the Smite leaving her body leaving her muscles sore, her head pulsating with migraine and her mind fuzzy. Everything spun around her and she found it a miracle itself that she could walk through the camp without collapsing or vomiting. She heard people speaking for her, telling her things, but only fragments reached her. You did it... we pledge alliance... the mountain passes are open...

The only thing sobered her up was Alistair, the oozing and deep burn marks on his forearm and the retching stink of it. Wynne tried to heal him, but Solona knew her spells too well. She knew that even if the pain and the wounds would disappear, the scars remain and there is no spell to make it vanish. It will always be an accusing memento.

She stood in the middle of the camp watching his tissues regenerating, imprinting these marks in her mind to never forget what she was capable, to remind herself why she should have lit her veins. To make her remember her own cowardice.

Eventually Alistair looked up at her and when their eyes met he jumped up unceremoniously, almost pushing Wynne to the dirt and rushed to her and grabbing her wrist angrily, leading her out from the camp, taking the steps furiously, yanking her after him until the camp vanished behind them. Then he stopped pulling her to him violently, so close that his erratic and trembling breaths left vapor on her skin.

"Never ever ask me to kill you in the name of love." He hissed through his gritted teeth. "NEVER". His speech turned into a yell now. "I swear to everything I will kill you with my own hands in that very moment you cease to be the girl you are, but until then do not dare to do this with me again." And she released her wrist with an angry tug, leaving it to rankle and pulsating in angry red.

Solona without an answer took her hand on his half-healed wound and began to flow her energies into it, feeling as it vanishes and nothing left behind just those blaming scars.

"In the name of love?" She asked him in a low and uncertain voice, staring her hands. "You love me?"

Alistair grabbed her chin gently and driving her sight on him, leaning over until their lips almost met. "What do you think?" he heaved into her mouth. Her spell broke and the world cease to exist around them they were in this peaceful stillness, so close to each other. And the only thing she heard was her rapidly beating heart and his shallow breaths.

"Sorry to interrupt tis utterly nauseating scene, but I have to discuss something with you, Warden." Morrigan's cruel voice broke the charm and brought back the painful reality. They scattered, looking away, trying to hide the signs of heat on their cheeks. "I found something interesting in the grimoire you brought from the Circle."