As Cole was being captured by Red Templars, Arissa was back in the Fade, back fighting the Nightmare. She tossed and turned in her sleep, reliving the pure fear which had tinged every spell she cast. Spiders, minute and giant alike, had filled the arena, and even Nightmare himself had had eight ghastly arachnoid legs protruding from his back, in a terrible parody of wings. Then, she was forced to choose. How she had chosen was still beyond her. Hawke, the brave Champion of Kirkwall, Varric's friend and ally, who had already suffered above and beyond the call of duty. Alistair, hero of the Fifth Blight, with a lover, a child, and ready to die on behalf of his fellow, undeserving Wardens. To this day, Hawke's face still haunted her, the bravery, determination and fear intermingling in his eyes. 'Say goodbye to Varric for me,' and he turned away, drawing a sword and charging Nightmare.
She woke with a scream, sitting bolt upright, her heart hammering. The party, camping on the outskirts of the Brecilian Forest, awoke with similar cries, reaching for their weapons. Sera saw Arissa, pale, like a spirit, and rushed to her side. 'Quizzy! What's wrong?' she asked urgently. Arissa shook her head, tears threatening to fall. She swayed slightly, and Sera pulled her to her feet. 'Right, come on you,' she said brusquely. 'Walk around, walk it off.' Arissa obeyed, mindlessly, Sera guiding her steps. Then, suddenly, she seemed to snap back into life, and took off, haring into the trees and out of sight. Sera gave a shout. 'Wait! Come back!' Alistair and Varric had come to her side, and the three of them watched the trees. Varric was the first to shake his head. 'Don't forget, she's Dalish. Woods are home to her. She'll come back when she's ready.' He walked back to his sleeping sack, affectionately ruffling Kieran's hair as he passed. With a groan, the dwarf settled down, turning onto his side. Sera's eyes were dark with worry as she stared out into the forest. Alistair rested a hand on her shoulder. 'Come on, Sera,' he yawned. 'Varric's right. I'll stay up and wait for her. You get some rest.'
The elf hesitated, before a yawn escaped her throat. 'Okay, okay,' she sighed, 'Maybe you're right. Lemme know as soon as she turns up though, yeah?' And with that, Sera curled up in a ball on her sleeping sack, and was asleep. Alistair sat on a tree stump, watching the darkness. Kieran walked slowly over to him. 'Where's Arissa?' he asked slowly. In a practised movement, he reached out his arms, and Alistair swept him up, sitting him on his lap. 'She'll be back soon,' he promised, smoothing Kieran's hair. 'Go to sleep, little soldier.'
Arissa didn't know where she was running, only that a blind panic had seized her mind. She fled, deeper and deeper into the forest. It grew darker and darker, animals calling to each other, scampering away at her presence. Not even the stars penetrated the thicket of the branches, and it was only as she twisted her head, looking for them, that she crashed to a halt, tripping over a tree root. Arissa went flying, her body slamming against a snarled old oak tree. She lay there for a moment, unmoving, before slowly curling into a ball. Arissa's tears flowed, unchecked, and the image of Nightmare, reaching for her with his spidery wings and gaping maw seared into her mind, again and again and again. Her hand burned, the Anchor filling her face with green light, and for once she was comforted by it. It did its namesake justice – anchoring her to the reality of her world, bringing her out of Nightmare's clutches once more.
Slowly, Arissa felt the fear ebb away, allowing her a clear head for the first time since she had awoken. She sat up, crossing her legs, nestled in between the tree roots. As the fear faded, it was replaced by a sense of unease. She was completely lost. Arissa looked from side to side. Until she could see the stars, she wouldn't be able to retrace her frantic steps. Slowly, hesitantly, she began to walk, choosing her direction at random, hoping that the branches would thin out enough to see the night sky. As she walked, Arissa conjured a spell of light, a tiny glowing orb that floated just a few metres in front of her, giving her enough to see where she was going. She walked for hours, wandering in the dark, before finally entering a clearing. As her eyes adjusted to the sudden space, Arissa was surprised to find the remnants of marble pillars, and beneath the mossy undergrowth there was a delicate, gilded mosaic of an elven face patterning the floor. Her eyes widened at the ruin of a massive door, situated at the other end of the clearing. Above her, the skies sparkled with stars, momentarily forgotten. The Inquisitor stared in wonder at what could only be part of ancient, forgotten ruins of a city of Elvhenan. She fell to her knees, overcome by the sight of her heritage. It was glorious, and for a moment Arissa could imagine the crystal spires, weaving their way into the skies, amongst the glowing marble and gold. She smiled, imagining Solas in her place. He, too, would have been overcome by this preservation, however slight, of their history.
Arissa knew instinctively that she would not find this place again, should she choose to leave it, and debated for a while about what to do. She needed to find the others, true, but something here called to her, begged her, implored her to stay. Sighing, she stretched out her arms and neck, warming her muscles, beginning to pull magic from the air around her. She would need a lot of power for her next spell.
Alistair was dozing, his eyes closing in spite of his promise to Sera, when lightning struck next to him. It hit the campfire, sending the flames roaring twenty, thirty feet in the air. For the second time that night, the party woke up screaming, and Alistair pushed Kieran behind him as he drew his sword. The fire died, abruptly, only to flare again when a second bolt of lightning struck. Varric frowned. 'Now what are the odds?' As Alistair cast his eye to the heavens, searching for a non existent storm, he saw the lightning running back through the sky, reaching down to a point somewhere in the forest. It was a cloudless night, and the realisation sent a chill down Alistair's spine. Kieran was staring at the forest. 'She's calling to us,' he said monotonously. Alistair's stomach dropped. 'Arissa?' Kieran nodded, without looking away, and Alistair hurriedly packed their bags. Lightning struck twice, thrice, four times more, and each time it flicked back to the same spot in the Forest. Sera and Varric followed Alistair's example, saddling their horses for good measure, and as soon as they were ready to leave, they left. Kieran and Alistair led the horses, the young child eerily in control. He seemed tied to the Inquisitor, in tune with her in a way Alistair had only seen him reflect with his mother.
The lightning continued, striking into the sky from a spot further ahead in the forest. They moved as fast as they could, mindful of the tree roots underfoot. It was dawn by the time they caught sight of Arissa. The elf had shed her armour, dressed only in her barest clothes – light brown leggings and a woollen shirt, her feet bare, her hair down and wildly free. Electricity crackled up and down her body, as she moved through a series of movements. Every so often, the electricity would spark, and run in rivulets down her arms, swarming at her fingertips. Arissa threw her arms out into the sky, and a bright flash of lightning would soar into the air above her. The party stopped where they were, dismounting the horses and leaving them in the shade, and slowly made their way into the ancient clearing. Arissa heard their approach and gently lowered her hands, discharging the energy of the sky back into the air around her. Her face was serene, at peace, yet suddenly full of some eternal wisdom.
'Look where we are,' she whispered, joy spreading across her eyes. 'Look at what we achieved!' Sera stepped forward, slowly. Arissa could see her warring with herself – the elf, recognising her ancestral heritage, with the elf, repulsed by all that her ears stood for. Arissa proffered a hand. 'Sera,' she said warmly, 'It's alright. It's alright to be confused.' Sera's ears twitched, and she stepped back between Alistair and Varric. Arissa's face fell. 'Can you not feel the energy here? Can you not sense that this is a relic of Elvhenan?' Varric raised an eyebrow. 'This is a place of Elvhenan? Tiny, you sure you didn't shock yourself with that spell?' Arissa shook her head. 'I can feel it. I know this place like I would know my home.' She sat, suddenly, as if winded. 'I'm so tired,' she murmured.
Alistair strode forward. 'Then let's make camp, and you sleep for a while. You've been in the forest most of the night, silly goose.' She nodded, swaying slightly, and Kieran ushered her to a corner of the clearing, offering his own cloak as a pillow. Arissa accepted gratefully, and fell to sleep in moments, leaving the rest of her party to once again make camp.