Chapter 21

Afterglow

Disclaimer – I don't own Dragon Age or any of its characters

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Wynne! Something's happening!" Leliana cried, and Wynne stared at Adeline as the Elf's body began to glow and become ethereal, fading from sight. The chains that had bound her clattered to the ground with loud chimes before vanishing, and Adeline was gone.

"I think the Sloth demon managed to force her back into a dream – it is trying to weaken us!" Wynne theorized.

"But we can find her, right? Like how she found us?" Leliana asked as she nocked an arrow, firing at the Sloth demon as Alistair, Zevran and Sten charged the creature.

"Yes, I am hoping that is possible," Wynne replied, casting a heroic aura spell over the two warriors and rogue. The three dashed forward, engaging the Sloth demon – Alistair, Zevran and Sten held it back, trying to overpower the creature as Leliana and Wynne stood back, attacking with arrows and spells. The Sloth demon was roaring, taunting them as he transformed, shifting between different shapes and attacking – each time he fell, he would get back up and change shapes, renewing his attack.

Alistair's mind flashed to the Tower of Ishal as the demon transformed into an ogre, towering over even Sten as the Qunari buried his blade in the beast's side. It howled in pain, lashing out and batting the warrior aside, his greatsword still in the demon's ribs. "Zevran!" Alistair shouted over the roaring, and the rogue ducked out of the way as the ogre charged, crashing into a Fade pillar. "If I throw you, can you get at its face?" he asked, and the Elf smirked.

"Of course," the assassin grinned, running at Alistair as the Templar lowered his shield like a ramp. As the ogre roared and ran towards them, Zevran leapt onto the shield, and Alistair thrust his arm out, using the shield like a springboard to hurl the Elf high into the air. Zevran's blades flashed as he landed square on the demon's face, burying his knives in its eyes and grinding them down in the sockets, tearing them back and dropping to the ground, ducking as the ogre stumbled forth and let out horrible screams of agony, clutching at its spewing eye sockets.

Sloth's form shimmered, and he took on the appearance of a rage demon, his molten shape reforming as he sank into the ground, resurfacing and lashing out with claws as hot as the sun. Zevran and Alistair let out yelps as they scrambled away from the demon – the leather bindings on Alistair's shield began to smoke and curl from the heat, and Leliana's arrows caught fire and melted into the demon's liquid form. Wynne closed her eyes and concentrated, swirling her stave over her head and cracking the butt of her staff on the ground, gathering the raw Fade energy around her as she engulfed the demon in a tiny vortex of ice and snow.

"Shatter it!" the mage cried as the spell petered out, the frozen demon's form steaming and cracking as Sloth tried to melt the ice. Sten grabbed his blade from where it had fallen, cleaving down in a powerful, overhead strike, shattering the demon.

"Holy mother of Andraste," Alistair gasped, breathing a sigh of relief as he placed a hand over his heart, feeling it pounding under the armored cuirass.

"Stay sharp," Leliana warned, knocking another arrow as the splattered, red droplets of magma began jiggling about on the ground, rolling back towards the largest pool of the substance and beginning to boil. The puddle turned black before lightening to grey, and the form of an abomination rose from the liquid, dashing towards Leliana with outstretched claws.

The rogue ducked and dropped her bow, lashing out hard with her elbow as she drew her hunting knife. Zevran was at the demon's back a moment later, burying his knives in its shoulders and yanking Sloth backwards, pulling him away from the two women. "Watch the swords!" Zevran hissed through his teeth as both Alistair and Sten stabbed into the demon, barely wrenching his blades out of its back as it was run through.

"Parshaara, have we not killed it thrice over?" Sten growled, watching the demon's body twitch and crumble to dust, rising once more as a ragged creature of smoke and ash. Icy claws dragged across the Qunari's arm as he tried to block with his blade – the wraith's form passed through the sword and armor, meeting skin and cutting into his flesh. Wynne cast flame spells at the shade, and it shrieked in pain as it spiraled wildly around the clearing, passing through walls and pillars as the mage hounded it with magic.

Sloth returned to his original form, snarling at his five opponents and gripping at his middle, his eyes filled with hatred. "How…how dare you defy me…" he choked out, raising his arms to cast magic at them. Leliana filled him with arrows, staggering the demon as Alistair and Sten charged, and Zevran darted in from behind, stabbing Sloth in the back of the neck and cutting off his head. Finally, the creature was defeated, shrieking and exploding in a cloud of dark smoke.

They all stood around the pile of ash, panting for breath as they half expected Sloth to rise up and attack once more. "And these things stalk our dreams?" Zevran muttered, making a face.

"That is a…terrifying thought," Leliana admitted, placing a hand over her heart as she let out a sigh.

"…where's Adeline?" Alistair asked as he sheathed his blade, looking back at the others – he had been so caught up in battling Sloth that he hadn't even realized she had been missing.

"We think the demon forced her back into another dream. Maybe it wanted to keep her out of the fight?" Leliana explained, and Alistair crossed his arms.

"How did she even find us all in the first place?" Alistair wondered, glancing around.

"She broke out of Sloth's trap," a voice explained, and everyone glanced over as they spotted a dark-haired man approaching.

"Niall?" Wynne asked, and the man nodded, stopping before the group.

"Good to see you, Wynne. Now, it looks like Sloth used up a large amount of energy trying to get her away from battle. The way to get into another's dream from here is using one of these pedestals," Niall indicated the hand-shaped pillar with the bowl resting on the palm, "but it seems he tried to seal her away. I might be able to help the process along, but it will take a lot of power, and I only have energy enough for one," Niall continued.

"We just need to convince her that she's dreaming, right?" Leliana asked, and Niall nodded.

"Yes, that will probably be enough to wake her up. Quickly, though – with Sloth dead, this place won't last much longer," Niall urged.

"I'll go," Alistair said, stepping forward. "Tell me what to do," he added to Niall, who nodded, explaining how to work the pedestal.

oooo

There was darkness everywhere; Alistair couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. He took slow, deliberate steps forward as he moved, not wanting to trip or fall over anything. A small light, faint and far away, appeared, and he made his way towards it, blinking and squinting in the sudden brightness as the light seemed to rush towards him.

He stood in what looked like a grand hall, the walls hung with tapestries and decorated with portraits of stern-looking nobles. As he walked he glanced around and jumped – there were bodies of what he assumed were the estate guards strewn about the corridor, and the walls and floor were splattered with blood, still fresh and dripping. Alistair ran down the hall as he heard the clashing of weapons, and he ran into a room at the end of the hall just as a tall, blonde-haired Elf was run through, right before his eyes.

Alistair stared, his eyes moving quickly around the room as he took in every detail; the world seemed to be moving in slow-motion as the blonde Elf fell. To the left, lying on a bed was a naked Elf woman, the sheets around her covered in blood, and her body dotted with bruises and bite-marks as tears streamed from her eyes – Alistair recognized Shianni's face from Adeline's sketch. To the right was a tall, red-haired Elf man in a wedding suit, firing a crossbow bolt into the neck of a human man brandishing a longsword – Alistair recognized this Elf as Soris.

"Nelaros!" he heard a familiar voice shriek, and he stared at Adeline as she watched the body of the blonde-haired Elf fall. "You bastard!" she roared, leaping at the attacker and cutting off his hand. Alistair was surprised by the ferocity in her attacks – there was nothing left of her opponent by the time she was through, but looking back at Shianni, and at the dying Elf on the ground, he understood her rage. Adeline dropped her blade and stared at the body, turning back to look at the blonde Elf as he lay on the floor, gasping for breath.

The room seemed to freeze around them, darkness creeping in so that Adeline and the other Elf were the only things that moved. Alistair was silent as he watched her kneel next to him, tears rolling down her cheeks as she whispered his name, 'Nelaros', and pulled him to her, rocking slowly back and forth as she cradled his head in her arms. "Adeline…you're crying…" Alistair could hear the Elf say, raising an arm and running a finger across the weeping girl's cheek.

"Please…please don't die," she wept, tears mixing with blood as they ran down her face. Alistair looked down at the ground, his heart aching for her. This is…why she left Denerim, then, he realized.

"You're much prettier when you smile. Don't let this take it away…" the Elf sighed, closing his eyes. "I thought…maybe we could be happy together. I could…take you away…where the humans couldn't hurt us… Please…please don't be sad…" he murmured, his voice drifting off as life faded from him.

"Nelaros? Nelaros! Please!" Adeline wailed, feeling his throat for a pulse. "…no…" she whispered, holding the body tighter to her. After a while, she placed the body down and closed her eyes. Soft sobs wracked her small frame, and Alistair took a tentative step forward, wanting to find some way to comfort her. Adeline stared up at him with a look of surprise, and then horror; it nearly broke his heart at the look of fear in her eyes. "S-stay back!" she stammered, reaching behind her for her blade.

"Adeline, it's me, Alistair," Alistair said gently, raising his hands to show that he was unarmed.

"I don't know you, shem, but even you can see that I'm not in the mood for games," she said in a low voice, staggering to her feet and taking a step away from him, holding her saber defensively before her. She was shaking so hard that she could barely hold the blade up, and the tip of it was quivering as she pointed it at him.

"Adeline, please, try to remember," Alistair urged, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "Come on, you remember how we met, right?" he asked, taking a small step towards her. "Duncan recruited you into the Grey Wardens and you came to Ostagar. You saw me arguing with a mage, and you were laughing at my jokes," Alistair said, and he saw a hint of recognition in her eyes as the tip of her saber lowered slightly. "And then after the battle, we went to Lothering with Morrigan and met Sten and Leliana there," he added, and Adeline slowly lowered her blade, staring at him.

"I…I don't understand. I feel like I know you… That you're telling the truth…" she murmured, watching as Alistair approached. He reached out, and she let him take the blade from her trembling fingers. "Alistair?" Adeline asked, looking up at him with tears in her eyes.

"Shh…everything will be alright…" Alistair murmured, wrapping his arms around her as Adeline sobbed, burying her face in his chest as he held her. She wept brokenly, and he patted her back gently as she let everything out, her breath coming in ragged gasps and hiccups. "Feeling better?" he asked gently as she breathed out a long sigh, and Adeline gazed up with red eyes, nodding slightly.

"Yes…I…I needed that…" she murmured, resting her head back against his chest.

"Hey, what's happening to me?" Alistair gasped suddenly, looking at a hand – it was becoming transparent as he faded away.

"You're waking up…" Adeline sighed, looking up at him with a weak smile.

"Wait, aren't you coming with me?" Alistair asked worriedly, seeing that she was still solid.

"Yes. I need to rescue Niall first," Adeline explained.

oooo

Alistair found himself back in the tower, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He let out a soft groan and sat up, his body feeling stiff. The others were stirring around him as well, and he immediately went to Adeline's side. The girl was breathing faintly, and he sighed with relief that she was alright. He glanced at the others as they got up and joined him, looking at Adeline with concern.

"Why isn't she waking up?" Leliana asked worriedly.

"She said something about saving Niall," Alistair replied, gently brushing a bit of hair from the Elf's left temple, checking to make sure her scar was there. It was, and he gave a small sigh of relief. He would never tell any of them about that first dream. He was suddenly glad that the demon had sent him to a second dream; if Adeline had walked in on them in their…compromising position, he just might have died of embarrassment.

"We should scout ahead," Zevran remarked as he got to his feet, shaking the stiffness out of his shoulders. "It will save us time while the Warden wakes up." While Alistair was loath to leave her side, he nodded, reluctantly standing and following Zevran and Sten as they went further into the hall.

oOo

Alistair vanished before he could argue with me, and I stood there for a few moments, letting out a long breath and running a hand through my hair, walking over to the Fade pedestal and returning to the arena where the Sloth demon had been. I walked up to the remains of the sloth demon in the center of the island, looking through them in silence. "There it is," I murmured, kneeling and sifting through the dark ashes and scraps of cloth, finding a small, black pearl. I knew what it was – my strange new knowledge obtained from the liquid in the font – and I walked over to the Fade pedestal, returning to where Niall was trapped.

"You defeated the demon. I never thought…I never expected you to free yourself, to free us both," Niall breathed as he saw me appear. "When you return…take the Litany of Adralla from my…body. It will protect you from the worst of the blood magic," he added sadly, and I crossed my arms.

"Aren't you coming to help?" I asked, and he shrugged weakly.

"I cannot go with you. I have been here far too long. For you it will have been an afternoon's nap; your body won't have wasted away in the real world while your spirit lay in the hands of a demon," he explained, and I bit my lip, looking down at the large pearl and rolling it in my fingers. "Every minute I was here, the Sloth demon was feeding off of me, using my life to fuel the nightmares of this realm. There is so little of me left… I was never meant to save the Circle, or…survive its troubles. I am dying. It is as simple as that," he sighed, and I shook my head.

"Not if I can help it," I replied, walking over.

"What are you doing?" Niall asked. I took his hand, walking him over to the pedestal and pointing at it.

"That. You don't know what the liquid is, do you?" I questioned, and he shook his head slowly, wondering what I was talking about. "It's…uh…your life force," I explained awkwardly. "When it got into my eyes, I understood what was going on – it contains your knowledge and memories, combined with those of Sloth. I know how get you out of here, if you still have sufficient will," I added, and the tiniest spark of hope lit the mage's eyes.

"Could you?" Niall asked, and I nodded.

"Here," I said, handing him the pearl. "Swallow it, and drink all of this," I explained. He took the pearl in his mouth, and I pulled the bowl from the pedestal, handing it to him. Niall drank, closing his eyes as the liquid sent burning energy into him.

The earth shook beneath our feet, and the Fade structures began to collapse around us; now that the demon was gone, and the energy that sustained the place had returned to its original owner, the place was barely holding itself together. Everything began to fade around us, and I took Niall's hand as we began to wake, returning to our mortal forms.

oooo

I gave a loud gasp, my body jolting violently, and I felt light hands gripping my shoulders tightly. "Easy!" Leliana said, her hands firm. I was breathing hard, covered in sweat, and as I blinked my eyes open, I looked at Leliana's upside-down face. I was lying on the ground, with my head resting in the concerned girl's lap, cringing in pain as my muscles cramped up.

"Ow…" I murmured, and Leliana let out a sigh of relief.

"Maker's breath Adeline! You had us so worried!" she scolded, pinching my cheeks affectionately, and I grinned weakly up at her.

"Aw, really?" I asked, trying to sit up. Leliana placed a hand on my shoulder, telling me not to move around so much. "Is everyone else okay?" I asked, glancing about the room. Wynne was looking me over carefully, making sure I wasn't hurt, but no one else seemed to be around.

"Everyone's fine," Leliana assured me, lightly brushing some hair from my face as she looked down with concern. "The boys ran ahead once they saw you were going to pull through, and cleared out the rest of the floor. I thought it was sweet, how worried they were – even Sten looked concerned," Leliana smiled gently, and I gave a weak laugh.

"Do you…remember what happened…in the Fade?" I asked, and she bit her lip, nodding.

"You rescued us…" she murmured, brushing my cheek lightly.

"Of course I rescued you, silly," I smiled up at her, "you're my friend." I glanced to the side as I heard a loud gasp, and Wynne stared in the direction of the sound, her eyes wide.

"Andraste's grace!" she breathed, walking over and kneeling by Niall as he slowly sat up, breathing hard. "I thought the demon had taken you," she murmured, and the mage shook his head, looking at me gratefully.

"It didn't, thanks to her," he said, nodding towards me.

"Good to see you made it, Niall," I smiled. He rummaged through his robes, taking out a scroll decorated with gold leaf.

"That's the Litany," Wynne said, looking at the paper, and Niall nodded.

"Yes. We'll need this if we're to face Uldred and the other blood mages," the man replied, handing the scroll to Wynne. "I wish I could be of more use, but in my weakened state, I'll only get in the way," he apologized, and I shook my head, slowly sitting up.

"You've already done more than enough to help us," I replied, and Niall looked at me gratefully.

"If you head downstairs, Petra and Kinnon are protecting some children in the hall, by the basement doors, and Owain is by the stockroom. You will be safe with them," Wynne explained, and Niall thanked us once more, heading down the stairs to join the others.

"Thank the Maker you're safe," Alistair breathed, once he and the others had returned. He helped me to my feet, and I leaned against him for support, my legs still a bit weak.

"Takes more than an abomination to put me down," I teased, and he sighed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"That doesn't stop me from worrying about you," he replied. Without another word, he scooped me into his arms, ignoring my protests as we continued.

"Come on Alistair, put me down – my legs aren't broken or anything," I complained, and he kept a firm grip on me as I struggled. I gasped as a wave of dizziness washed over me, and he sighed, giving me a pointed look.

"See? Just sit still and rest, and you'll be able to walk soon," he chided, and I grumbled weakly, complaining that his armor was too cold. We made our way slowly through the halls; Sten, Alistair and Zevran had taken out all the demons and abominations while I was still in the Fade, so the path ahead was silent. I managed to regain myself enough to walk, but Alistair kept close to me, his eyes still worried as he watched me.

Wynne said that the stairs were in a room just ahead as we reached the end of the hall. As we entered, we started in surprise; a strange, glowing purple light was surrounding a Templar, who was kneeling with his hands clasped before him, his eyes shut tightly in pain.

"It's a Templar! He…he's still alive, I think! We must help him!" Wynne gasped, and I nodded, walking over slowly.

"This trick again? I know what you are. It won't work. I will stay strong…" the Templar muttered through gritted teeth, seeing me approach.

"The boy is exhausted. And this cage…I've never seen anything like it," Wynne remarked, looking at the glowing purple light that surrounded the man. "Rest easy…help is here," she assured him, but the Templar shook his head.

"Enough visions. If anything in you is human…kill me now and stop this game," he almost pleaded, closing his eyes tightly.

"He's delirious. He's been tortured…and has probably been denied food and water. I can tell," Leliana murmured, unhooking the water-skin from her belt. "Here, I have a skin of–"

"Don't touch me! Stay away!" the man cried, glaring at us. "Filthy blood mages…getting in my head… I will not break…I'd rather die," he muttered darkly.

"Where are the other survivors?" I asked, and the Templar looked at me oddly.

"What others? What are you talking about?" he retorted impatiently, clearly confused.

"Irving and the other mages who fought Uldred. Where are they?" Wynne pressed, and the man shook his head, a distant, horrified look in his eyes.

"They are in the Harrowing Chamber. The sounds coming out from there…oh, Maker…" the man murmured, shuddering and shutting his eyes.

"We must hurry. They are in grave danger, I am sure of it," Wynne said, looking up towards the door as we heard a scream. I narrowed my eyes slightly as I felt my saber vibrating on my hip – even more frantically than when we met Connor – sensing something from the chamber. My skin crawled as I gripped the handle, trying to settle the blade down, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

"You can't save them. You don't know what they've become," the Templar argued, and I glanced back at him.

"We can't just kill them," I countered, but he shook his head, staring at me.

"They've been surrounded b-by blood mages whose wicked fingers snake into your mind and corrupt your thoughts," he hissed, his eyes terrified.

"His hatred of mages is so intense…the memory of his friends' deaths is still fresh in his mind," Alistair murmured, looking sadly at the Templar.

"He's suffered pain and anguish like few have had to endure. That and his lust for revenge have confused the issue–" Wynne began, but the man cut her off.

"Do not presume to judge me, mage! I am thinking clearly – for perhaps the first time in my life," the man retorted, glaring up at the old woman.

"Your outrage says differently…I agree with Wynne," I replied, and the man narrowed his eyes at me in anger.

"Then you are a fool who does not see to the heart of the situation," he growled, glaring up towards the Harrowing Chamber. "To ensure this horror is ended…to guarantee that no abominations or blood mages live, you must kill everyone up there."

"No. I'll not have the blood of innocents on my hands," I said firmly, and the man shook his head.

"That is your choice to make, but I beg you to consider what I have to say," he urged. "You cannot tell maleficarum by sight. Just one could influence the mind of a king, of a Grand Cleric. You may be confident in your ability to stand up to them, but what about the rest of us? Will you protect us from them?" the man asked, and I felt my jaw tighten.

"I'll not let my companions fall to blood magic, no matter what happens to me," I replied, my eyes hard as I looked up towards the doors to the Harrowing Chamber, hearing bloodcurdling screams from within.

"No one ever listens, not until it's far too late," the man muttered, shaking his head. "Maker turn his gaze on you. I hope your compassion hasn't doomed us all," he added, lowering his head as he returned to his prayers.

I crossed my arms, looking up towards the doors and chewing my lip nervously. "Adeline, you're still weak from earlier. You should stay out here," Alistair argued, and I looked back at him sternly.

"Alistair, I'm not going to sit by and let the rest of you face whatever's in there," I retorted, and he made a face.

"Why are you always so stubborn?" he complained, and I rolled my eyes.

"Because I know it annoys everyone," I replied with a smirk, walking up to the doors before the others could argue. "Come on. We've got a demon to kill," I added, opening the doors and entering the Harrowing Chamber.

oooo

A bald mage stood with two abominations at his side, the creatures holding a haggard-looking mage by the arms. The man screamed as the bald mage waved his arms around, casting a spell; blue light surrounded the man, and his agonized cries made my skin crawl as he was tortured.

"Do you accept the gift that I offer?" the man – Uldred I assumed – asked, and the tortured mage nodded weakly, his eyes blurred from pain. He fell to the ground as the abominations dropped him, and his body twitched and spasmed. Uldred and the abominations began casting a spell on him, and he screamed, his skin boiling and crawling, swelling outward and turning dark and raw. His form glowed and expanded, and he became an abomination before our eyes, standing and looking up at Uldred.

"Maker's blood…" I hissed through my teeth as we approached, and Uldred turned, looking us over.

"Ah…look what we have here. An intruder. I bid you welcome. Care to join in our…revels?" the bald man asked, greeting us.

"I take it you're Uldred," I remarked, and he sneered. I recognized him from Ostagar – he had been at the meeting with Loghain and the king, arguing with the Revered Mother.

"Oh. Very observant," he replied mockingly. "I'm quite impressed you're still alive. Unfortunately, that must mean you killed my servants," he added, placing a hand on his chin, and not looking unduly troubled by that fact. "Ah, well, they are probably better off dying in the service of their betters than living with the terrible responsibility of independence," Uldred shrugged, and I watched him warily.

"You'll soon follow your servants," I growled, partially drawing my blade, and Uldred raised his hands defensively, his eyes lingering on the glowing runes along the singing metal.

"Wait, wait, wait…let's not be hasty. I'm trying to have a civilized conversation here," the man said, and I snorted.

"I do not converse with abominations," I snarled, drawing the saber all the way, and Uldred raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? All high and mighty, are we? Just because you've been in that form so long, you don't think you're one of us anymore?" he asked, and I opened my mouth, pausing when I realized what he had said.

"What" I said flatly, and Uldred looked at me for a few moments, his eyes shinning with mirth as he cackled.

"Oh? You don't even realize it!" he laughed uproariously, and I stared at him.

"Realize…what? What are you talking about?" I asked quietly, looking at him suspiciously.

"A mage is but the larval form of something greater. Your Chantry vilifies us, calls us abominations, when we have truly reached our full potential!" Uldred grinned, still amused by my confusion. "Look at them - the Chantry has them convinced. They deny themselves the pleasure of becoming something…glorious," he breathed, indicating the mages that were bound nearby, staring at him with terrified eyes.

"You're mad! There's nothing glorious about what you've become, Uldred!" Wynne yelled, gripping her staff so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"Uldred? He is gone. I am Uldred and yet not Uldred. I am more than he was," the abomination chuckled, crossing his arms. "I could give you this gift, Wynne. You and all mages. It would be so much easier if you just accepted it. But some people can be so stubborn," he sighed. "I even have the First Enchanter on my side, don't I…Irving?" he asked, looking down at an older man, his long, grey beard spotted with blood.

"What have you done to him!?" Wynne cried, staring at the First Enchanter.

"Stop him…he…is building an army. He will…destroy the Templars and–" Irving gasped out, his body trembling in pain.

"You're a sly little fox, Irving, telling on me like that. And here I thought he was starting to turn," Uldred crooned in a sing-song voice, narrowing his eyes at the old man.

"N-never," the First Enchanter muttered through clenched teeth.

"That's enough out of you, Irving. He'll serve me, eventually. As will you…" Uldred grinned, looking back at me, his eyes flashing yellow. "Killing you would be a waste. Your raw potential…it would be so much greater if you simply…woke up," he said. "It still sleeps within you – you have forgotten who you are…what you are…" he sneered, enjoying my confusion.

"Speak clearly!" I demanded, tensing at his words, a pit of ice in my stomach as his grin widened, long, pointed teeth lining his mouth.

"Fine, then. I will show you…little sister," he replied, holding up a hand. I gasped, my heart suddenly clenching up, and I fell to my knees, my blade clattering on the floor next to me. I felt myself rising slowly off the ground, hanging in the air like a puppet, my arms thrown back as my chest burned, heart throbbing so quickly that it felt like it would rupture. My mouth was open in a silent scream of agony – it hurt too much to even make a sound.

"Adeline!" Alistair cried, staring at me. The others were thrown back as they tried to approach, as if an invisible force were pushing them away, and I gasped for breath, shutting my eyes tightly as my chest ached and throbbed.

"Stop it!" I managed to gasp out, tears of pain pouring from my eyes, but Uldred only laughed.

"You'll thank me later!" he grinned, and the world spun around me as my vision swam, blotted with red and black. My entire body shuddered, my skin crawling and my hair prickling along my scalp as my consciousness was engulfed in darkness. Uldred's form began to shimmer, and he grew tall and wide, a giant, muscular demon standing before me. "You will be a worthy servant," he laughed, and I stared at him through pain-blurred eyes as my entire body burned.

Everything around me was a haze of pain. Flashes of bright colors and loud sounds echoed and swam by, and I felt my body moving on its own, not really knowing what I was doing. I heard screams and shouts around me, and a great, pained roar as Uldred's demon form came briefly into my vision before fading out again.

oOo

Alistair shuddered, gasping for breath and coughing, as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He sat up and gripped his head, looking about dizzily. The room was silent, and the others were beginning to stir beside him as he staggered to his feet, feeling ill from the sudden movement. His ears were still ringing, and his head swam; he fought to hold down his last meal, taking long, slow breaths as he assessed the situation.

The abominations had stopped attacking, lying dead in the corners of the room, as if they had been thrown there like ragdolls, and Alistair's eyes widened as he surveyed the damage – the creatures had deep claw-marks in them, and as he turned his head, he took in a sharp breath. He hadn't realized what he was looking at until he noticed that the floor was slick with a layer of blood; the body of a pride demon – Uldred, presumably – was lying strewn across the room, torn to pieces.

Adeline lay in the center of the destruction, her face spattered with blood, her clothes soaking up the dark liquid as she lay with her cheek pressed against the stone floor. "Adeline," Alistair managed to gasp, staggering over to her as he slowly regained control of himself, the dizziness and nausea settling down. He knelt down next to her, relief going through him as he saw her chest slowly rising and falling. Oh, thank the Maker, he thought, letting out a sigh of relief.

The others had begun moving as well, and Alistair glanced back, watching their reactions of confusion as they tried to regain themselves. "Maker's breath, what happened?" Leliana exclaimed as she and the others stared about, seeing the bodies of the abominations, and of the pride demon.

"I have no idea," Alistair admitted, looking back down at Adeline. She didn't seem to be injured, and he gathered her up in his arms, blood dripping off of her clothing and down her face as he lifted her off the ground. "For such a tiny thing, you sure can make a huge mess," he murmured, glancing about the room.

"You don't think…she did all of this?" Wynne asked, bewildered.

"I…don't know. Maybe whatever Uldred was trying to do backfired, and ended up tearing him apart…or at least, that seems most likely," Alistair replied. "Do you…know what he was doing?" he added, and Wynne shrugged, just as confused as he was.

"I believe he was trying to turn her into an abomination…but it felt…strange," Wynne admitted. "It was like he was trying to pull something out of her, not put a demon inside, like the other mages…" she trailed off, trying to figure out what was going on. Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard faint groans from around the room, and the mages that Uldred had captured began to stir. "Irving!" she gasped, hurrying to the First Enchanter's side, and the old man groaned softly as she helped him sit up.

"Maker…I'm too old for this," Irving sighed, massaging the back of his head and looking up at Wynne.

"Irving! Are you all right?" Wynne asked, sighing with relief as Irving nodded.

"I've…ngh…been better. But I am thankful to be alive. I suppose that is your doing, isn't it, Wynne?" the First Enchanter replied. He looked around at the destruction, watching as the other mages slowly sat up and got to their feet. Leliana and Wynne helped the old man up, letting him lean against them for support.

"I wasn't alone. I had help," Wynne said, indicating Adeline and her friends.

"The Circle owes you all a great deal," Irving said, nodding his head in thanks to Alistair.

"Greagoir has blocked us in – he will only accept that things are safe if he hears it from you," Wynne explained, and Irving nodded slightly.

"I will need some help getting down the stairs. Curse whoever insisted the Circle should be housed in a tower," the old man complained softly, leaning against Leliana as those who remained gathered about, heading out of the Harrowing chamber and going down the stairs.

oOo

For a long time there was nothing, and I felt as if I were floating in water. A gentle pressure against my side brought me into focus, and I opened my eyes slowly, making a faint sound. "Nng…what happened?" I asked weakly, feeling something against my head. I looked up blearily, finding my cheek pressed against Alistair's shoulder.

Alistair was silent, looking down at me with worry, his grip tightening on me as I came-to. We were walking through the tower's halls, the others casting concerned glances back at us as Alistair carried me. "We don't know," he murmured softly. "When Uldred was doing…whatever that was, we were all thrown clear. The next thing we knew, you were lying in a pool of blood, and the demon was torn apart around you. Somehow he was…ripped to pieces," he explained, and I looked up at him in confusion.

"But…I don't remember anything…" I murmured. "The mages…are they safe?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Yes. The First Enchanter and any others who survived went on ahead of us while Wynne was checking you over. She said that you're not hurt," he said softly.

"Not on the outside at least," I sighed, closing my eyes and resting my head back against his shoulder. "My head's throbbing, and I feel like I just got hit by a runaway carthorse," I groaned, and he smiled faintly.

"I'm glad that you're well enough to complain about it, at least," he replied, and I smiled weakly back at him.

"No one else is hurt?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"Only minor cuts and bruises," he replied.

"That's good…" I sighed. By the time we neared the entrance hall of the tower, rejoining the mages by the large doors, I felt well enough to stand, although Alistair kept a hand at my elbow in case I suddenly collapsed. We called out to the Templars on the other side; they opened up once they heard the First Enchanter's voice behind the doors.

"Irving? Maker's breath, I did not expect to see you alive," Greagoir said, approaching us as we came into the main hall.

"It is over, Greagoir. Uldred…is dead," Irving sighed, still worn out from the ordeal. The young Templar who had been trapped, who I learned was named Cullen, stepped forward, looking at the Knight-Commander with fearful eyes.

"Uldred tortured these mages, hoping to break their wills and turn them into abominations. We don't know how many of them have turned," he explained, and Irving looked at him indignantly.

"What? Don't be ridiculous!" the old man said, his tone carrying a hint of anger.

"Of course he'll say that! He might be a blood mage! Don't you know what they did? I won't let this happen again!" Cullen argued, narrowing his eyes at Irving suspiciously.

"I am the Knight-Commander here, not you," Greagoir said firmly, looking sternly at the younger Templar, who still looked unconvinced.

"Well, what does the Knight-Commander think, then?" I asked, glancing up at the man.

"We have won back the tower. I will accept Irving's assurance that all is well," Greagoir replied, keeping his word.

"But they may have demons within them, lying dormant…lying in wait!" Cullen cried, and Greagoir held up a hand for silence.

"Enough! I have already made my decision," the Knight-Commander said, and Cullen glowered at the ground, nodding reluctantly. "Thank you. You have proven yourself a friend of both the Circle, and the Templars," Greagoir added, looking back to me.

"It had to be done," I replied.

"I promised you aid, but with the Circle restored, my duty is to watch the mages. They are free to help you, however. Speak to them," the Knight-Commander said, and I nodded. "For now, I will have to oversee a sweep of the tower. There may be some survivors and we should do our best to tend to them. Please, excuse me." He turned to look at the First Enchanter. "And Irving…it is good to have you back," Greagoir added.

"Ah, I'm sure we'll be at each other's throats again in no time," the old man replied, watching as the Templars began organizing into groups, marching into the halls to check for any remaining abominations or demons, or surviving mages. "Here we are, the tower in disarray, the Circle nearly annihilated…though it could have been much, much worse," Irving sighed, looking around the main hall and glancing at me as I walked over to him, nodding gratefully. "I am glad you arrived when you did. It's almost as though the Maker Himself sent you." I seem to get that a lot, I thought, refraining from saying so.

"I'm glad I could help," I said, looking at the old man with a bit of concern; he looked worn out, but his eyes were still strong.

"From what Greagoir said, it seems that you came here seeking allies," the First Enchanter remarked, and I nodded, saying that this was true. "The least we can do is help you against the darkspawn – I would hate to survive this only to be overcome by the Blight. You have my word, as First Enchanter – the Circle will join the Grey Wardens in the fight," Irving promised.

"Irving, I have a request; I seek leave to follow the Grey Warden," Wynne piped up suddenly, and I glanced back at her with surprise.

"Wynne…we need you here. The Circle needs you," Irving argued, and Wynne crossed her arms, giving the First Enchanter a firm look.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Irving, but the Circle will do fine without me. The Circle has you," she replied. "This woman is brave and good, and capable of great things. If she will accept my help, I will help her accomplish her goals," she added, glancing back at me.

"I would be honored to have you join me, Wynne," I smiled faintly, and Irving sighed.

"You were never one to stay in the tower when there was adventure to be had elsewhere," Irving remarked with a chuckle, and Wynne looked back at him.

"Why stay when I can be of service elsewhere?" she reasoned, and the old man nodded.

"Then I give you leave to follow the Grey Warden, but know that you always have a place here," the First Enchanter said. "There is much to be done here, and I must go. You must forgive me for not being a proper host," the old man added.

"Ah, First Enchanter, a moment, please," I said quickly, and the man nodded, listening. "Can the Circle go to Redcliffe to save a possessed child?" I asked, and his eyes widened a fraction.

"The child is possessed? But…killing the demon would mean killing the… Unless you intend to enter the Fade? Yes…yes, it can be done with a group of mages…" he murmured, stroking his beard. "I shall gather what mages I can and we shall leave promptly. A life is at stake," he promised, and I thanked him.

"Well, we should head back to the inn for the night," I sighed as we left the tower, walking down the long path that led to the docks, where Carroll was sitting and absently looking around. The sun was setting in the distance, and I massaged my shoulders, the muscles aching from strain.

"It's been a long day. Rest…rest would be welcome," Wynne agreed, and I glanced over at her, slightly concerned.

"Are you all right?" I asked, and she nodded.

"Yes…yes, of course. I am just a little…weary. As you may have noticed, I'm no spring chicken," the elderly mage replied, and I grinned.

"No, you're a person," I teased, and she chuckled.

"Hah…very funny," she smiled. "In all honestly, I do not know how many years I have left in me; I have lived for such a long time. But there's always something else to do, and I have to keep going in order to do it. I think I will be glad when I am…done," she murmured, more to herself than to me. Oh dear…I thought, trying not to panic at her words.

"I-I'm sure you'll be kicking around for years yet," I assured her, helping her into the boat as Carroll reluctantly agreed to take us back across.

"Oh, I don't know. I really don't," Wynne sighed, smiling faintly at my concern.

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