Hannah surveyed the carnage spread out before her. More than a dozen Templars strewn about the yard, corpses long cooled, blood and mud drying on their armor and skin. She recognized many of her contemporaries, men she had ridden with to the Free Marches. Not one of them had survived. Mercifully, none had apparently suffered for long; their killers had made sure of that. What was surprising was the fact that they had come out in this direction to begin with.

Kinght-Captain Hollard had given explicit instructions to regroup in Staffert once they had finished searching the nearby villages, hoping to potentially snag the fugitive before he disappeared into Tevinter. Yet not even Hollard was to be found at their designated rendezvous point. A hasty search of the town had turned up essentially nothing, except that their last direction was back south. Following that lead had brought them to this homestead.

Winston and the others checked the bodies for any signs of magic, but so far, they had found nothing. The men who had checked the barn had found nothing out of the ordinary, at least nothing that would not be expected from being abandoned for days. The animals were restless and hungry. Some of the pens were empty, the former inhabitants missing, having been broken out. Or let out.

Whoever had killed all their compatriots had probably made their escape on one of the horses. At this point, they could have made for Nevarra, Tevinter, or Antiva and there was no possibility for them to catch up.

"Prepare our brothers for a proper funeral," Hannah commanded.

Winston nodded his affirmation and rallied the others to help him. Hannah entered the house, removing her helm. Shifting her short brown hair behind her ears, she looked at the mud that had caked onto the floor.

The entry way was dark and cold. A few of her brothers had been slain in the entry way, much more simply than the others, ambushed by Hannah's reckoning. A trail of dirty footprints lead into the sitting room, where the pale light in the window showed the scene in its full glory.

Two more Templars lay dead, waiting at the threshold to ambush someone. Where their bodies had fallen implied that their killer had not approached from the direction they had expected. The family had been butchered, shoved into a corner with no significant sign of fighting back. And at the center of the room, practically cleaved in two, was Knight-Captain Hollard.

She had had her arguments with the man. He was brutal and paranoid, prone to killing anyone suspected of conspiring with maleficarum or harboring apostates. Still, he was a devoted Templar. He carried out his orders with brutal efficiency and always to the letter. Most of all, he would not abandon a target unless...

Hannah darted from room to room, looking for any sign that would confirm or disprove her hunch. She searched the shelves for diaries, ransacked drawers for evidence. Finding a journal, she began flipping through the pages. To her surprise, she found a familiar schematic. Dropping the journal, she ran out to the workshop. Winston followed her, a look of concern on his face.

"Have you found something?" he asked. "Knight-Captain?"

"Help me with this," she answered.

Throwing a mound of junk off a chest, she and Winston pried the thing open. Throwing more items out, she dug to the bottom, quietly praying she was not on a wild goose chase. Pulling out a small box, she it apart and took out the item it contained: a copper ring the width of her fist with a vial of red affixed in the center, glowing faintly.

"Flames," Hannah muttered.

Braden sat before the fire, bare feet propped up on a table as he sipped tea. The door behind him swung open.

"They're here," his elf cohort announced.

"Of course they are," Braden replied, jumping to his feet. "You know what to do."

The elf nodded and bowed before gliding off. Braden smiled as he threw on his coat and gathered a welcome party, riding out to meet his visitors. Even from the distance, he recognized Ather's sigil held at the forefront.

"Lord Miletus," Ather called out.

"Lord Evidan," Braden called back. "See, I know your name too."

"Enough with your jokes, Miletus. You know why I am here."

"Enlighten me."

"Your actions are earning you the ire of the other magister. I intend to bring you before them myself. By force, if necessary."

"Color me terrified."

Ather stared daggers at his contemporary. "If you won't surrender, I will strike you down. No one would blame me after what you did to Anicetus. I imagine the council will accept you in a bag."

"Anicetus was a colossal prick. I don't see why you should care."

"Enough!"

A flame erupted from the magister's hand. Before he could attack, a bolt of light flew over Braden's shoulder, striking the other magister in the chest and burning through him. The rest of his men looks startled. The shot had come from a greater distance than any bow. In the silence Xanthus moved forward, and Braden smirked triumphantly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome," he said shaking his co-conspirator's hand.

Xanthus signaled his men forward.

"Is this the result of your work?" he asked discretely.

"More of the inspiration," Braden answered with a smile. With this, he gave a near imperceptible nod to his cohort standing in the shadows of the castle.

"Interesting. I can hardly wait to see what else you have planned."

Fenris sighed as he sat on a rickety chair. He and Rain had jumped the border without issue. From the rumors, border security had tightened recently, eyes focused inward as opposed to outward. Some magisters were having a major spat, something that Fenris had no recollection of having ever happened before. Sure, there had been duels, but never anything that whispered full on warfare. Such a thing would distract from the war front with the Qunari.

Still, no one seemed to be paying him any attention. Granted, he did not have the same infamy he had in Kirkwall, and now, the rest of Thedas. Denarius had been killed far outside the Imperium, but apparently no one cared that his killer had returned to Tevinter.

Rain was already sleeping in the room behind him. Admittedly, the girl was partly responsible for the lack of attention on him. A man traveling with a child was far less conspicuous than a man traveling alone. It also helped that she still had not said a word since he found her.

"Thanks for taking us in, Emmen," Fenris said.

"It's no trouble," Emmen replied. Fenris cringed internally. He was putting these people in grave danger just by being here. But if all went well (something Fenris was quite doubtful of since his time working with Hawke), he and Rain could be on and at the next town before anyone caught on that they were there in the first place. However, after days on the road, merely cutting and running was inadvisable for more than simply being discourteous.

"It's strange seeing someone come from the south, especially in these times," the old man said. "What's your story?" Emmen flinched when he met Fenris' gaze. "Sorry. I'm a bit of a curious sort."

"Curiosity has gotten the better of many men, but that hasn't turned everyone off from it," Fenris replied.

"True enough."

"How long do you intend on-"

A ruckus was heard outside, shouts and the sound of horses approaching.

"We've come for a runaway slave and murderer," and authoritative voice announced. "Let him come forward and accept his punishment."

Fenris idly regarded the soldiers, figuring not to overreact. It was not as if the world revolved around him.

"We know you're here, Fenris."

The elf swore under his breath. Rain was already tucked in. He might be able to leave her if they were only looking for him, but there was no guarantee that no one would turn her over. He grabbed sword and swung the door open.

"What are you doing?" Emmen asked.

"Getting a breath of fresh air," Fenris replied.

The Imperium soldier scanned the windows and rooftops, looking for signs of their quarry.

"You have a minute before we start executing those harboring you," their commander bellowed.

Fenris fell from the roof, slamming into the midst of the soldiers. The horses panicked, sending the formation into chaos. Fenris slashed the nearest rider and began going to work on the rest. The captain tried and failed to rally his men, the screams of their fellows distracting them as Fenris cut through their ranks. Seeing his target, the captain let loose a salvo of lightning bolts, forcing Fenris to bob and duck around cover to avoid being hit. The archers got into position and began firing on the former slave.

Taking cover behind a storefront, Fenris was knocked away when the building exploded around him. Turning around, Fenris had to step back from the blast of fire that consumed the guard that had been coming up behind him. Searching for source of the spell, Fenris spotted Rain hiding behind a corner, holding her hands close to herself.

"I must be dreaming," he murmured.

The captain was stunned for a second, but regained his senses.

"He has a mage working with him!" he barked. "Get her!"

Fenris recovered and intercepted the soldiers. Kicking the leader into the rest, he set on the nearest one who evaded and slashed him across the chest and jumped to the next.

"Get out of here, Rain!" he shouted.

The girl flinched, but stood her ground out of fright.

For Maker's sake, Fenris thought, blocking another strike to his chest and countering, dropping the soldier to the ground with a split breastplate. Scooping up the girl, he found a hiding place for her with some other frightened citizens.

"Don't let her run off," Fenris growled and then sprinted back to the fray. Creeping along the walls, he took in the battlefield. Some of the soldier had spread out, the rest holding a tight formation around their captain. Throwing a quick glance back the way he had come, he jumped at the first soldier to approach.

The others took note and charged, promptly cut down in a whirlwind of metal.

"Fancy meeting Danarius' pet roaming freely," the captain said. Fenris spun around, facing the captain, absently cutting down another soldier. The captain smiled. "And here I thought you would never come back."

"Perhaps I hadn't gotten my fill of cutting out magister hearts."

The captain scowled, but quickly schooled his features.

"Bold of you, to be sure. But boldness often overlaps with folly."

The captain flung a bolt of lightning at the elf. Fenris jumped out of the way, cringing as the air bristled behind him. With the barrage trailing his path, Fenris jumped through a wall into another building, avoiding the blasts of destruction that turned the place into a whirlwind of splinters and debris. Jumping back out, Fenris charged the captain, cutting down the guards he threw at him, but was stopped short by a volley of arrows.

When the first arrow hit Fenris in the shoulder, he ghosted and dodged, now having to contend with an additional layer of attacks as he tried to close on the captain while assessing the damage. The arrowhead did not pierce the armor, but did bury itself deeply into the metal. Snapping the shaft, Fenris threw a firebomb he had been saving, causing the horse to throw off its rider.

Someone was helping clear the roofs, throwing the archers from the vantage point. Fenris gave a silent thanks to his unknown ally while dodging a fireball. The captain seemed to grow more irritable and panicked at the loss of most of his minions. Fenris went in for the kill.

Letting a pair of spells that would have killed him if given to chance to connect slip through him, the elf blitzed forward, driving his massive greatsword into the man's chest. As the enemy mage gurgled out the last dregs of his life, Fenris pulled the blade away and saw the crowd gathering. None came too close, save for Rain, who wriggled out of her temporary guardian to run back to Fenris.

For a while, no one said a word. Fenris kept his sword out in case someone decided to attack him.

"What have you done?" one shrieked.

"They'll kill us all for this!" one cried.

Fenris scowled at the crowd, dragging the captain's corpse up by the hair.

"This is what you fear. What you have allowed yourselves to be subjugated to are nothing more than mere men; powerful, but not invincible. I know well enough that they can fall, even with their benefit of magic."

"How?"

"I killed my former master, Danarius."

"You killed you master?" someone asked incredulously.

"I didn't do it alone."

The looked of horror turned to desperation.

"Please, protect us."

"Don't leave us."

The cries and pleading overlapped into a din.

"You are going to have to take hold of your own fates," Fenris shouted over the crowd. "I will not do it for you." Picking up Rain, Fenris turned to walk away.

"Why not lead us?" A clear voice called out.

Fenris whirled around to the last voice, the crowd parting between him and them. Staring back at him with grey eyes. Splotches of blood dotted the woman's clothes. But what Fenris noticed most of all was the collar worn by mages enslaved by magisters.

"You've already broken your own chains," the woman added. "Why not help us do the same?"

Grimacing, Fenris tried to think of an out, some way to get out of being placed in such a role. Hawke and Sebastian had both mentioned the possibility at one point or another, but before he could render his answer, the crowd began chanting his name.

"Fenris! Fenris! Fenris!"

Blast it, Hawke! This is your fault.