It all came crashing back.

That night in the Circle, sneaking around the basement searching for his phylactery. Everything that happened after had put those events far back into her mind, but staring at Jowan's tired, fearful face she could think nothing but. The determination and excitement of leaving the Circle behind with her friend, then the blood running down his arm. The look of sheer disappointment on Irving's face. The two mages stood frozen, unable to say a word. Her feelings were jarring; criss-crossing from happiness that he was alive, to rage over what he did, to heart-wrenching sadness at the end result. To fear of what would happen next.

Jowan moved closer to the bars, but stopped himself from touching them. He seemed afraid too, afraid of her, or perhaps himself. Veira's heart almost stopped at the thought. Was Jowan the one responsible for all this? Did he summon a demon here and cause all the killings? He was a bloodmage. He had the ability. She bit into her cheek, hard, the taste of metal spreading. What would she do if he was?

"I-I can't believe it..." Jowan breathed, his hands shaking, "I never though I'd see you again."

"Jowan?" she asked, as if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Maybe...maybe the real mage behind it all was playing mind games with her. Maybe this was an illusion. "Am...am I in the Fade?" Please tell me you did not do this, she prayed to herself.

"Veira?" Alistair interrupted, concern in his voice, "who is this?"

Veira paused, mulling over her answer. Indeed, who was Jowan to her? A friend? A surrogate brother? Or an enemy? She couldn't decide. "He... is the reason why I am a Grey Warden," she settled on, her brow furrowing and wiping the shock off her face.

"A Grey Warden?" Jowan asked incredulously, but the reason why dawned on him. "Because...they were going to execute you...or make you Tranquil? And the Grey Warden that was there..."

"What?" Alistair shouted, eyes widening at her. "What is he talking about? E-execution?"

Veira wanted to answer, but she bit her lip. It wasn't as if wanted to keep it from them, it was just so painful to think about, so she put it out of mind for so long. You tend to do that often, a voice whispered in her head. She chose to ignore it.

"I believe this is a topic we can discuss at a later date, my friend," Zevran said, patting the Templar's shoulder, "when she feels like it, yes?"

Alistair's shoulders slumped. "Y-yeah. Sorry."

Jowan looked down, smiling sadly as he placed a hand on his side. "You didn't tell anyone? I-I don't blame you. I wouldn't."

She eyed him more intensely, something about him off. It was like he was trying to hide an injury. She could always tell when he was hiding physical pain. But as it turned out, she couldn't always tell when he was hiding something more. "What happened to you?" she asked, "did...they hurt you?"

By the look on his face, he seemed to be thinking the same thing as her. "They did what they do to all traitors and would-be assassins. I wouldn't be surprised if they sent you to finish me off."

That was absolutely the worst thing he could have said. "Oh no," she gasped shakily, "did you...cause all of this?"

"No!" he shouted immediately, shaking his head profusely, "I didn't cause the walking dead! But I...I poisoned Arl Eamon. He-he's probably dead now, and it's all my fault."

"You did what?" Veira screamed at him, "why?"

Jowan recoiled at the sound of her voice. "I-I was instructed to, by Teryn Loghain. He told me that Arl Eamon was a threat, and if I...took the job he would help me go back to the Circle, so I could fix all my wrongdoings! Please Veira, you have to believe me, I didn't summon any demon or the walking dead! I was already imprisoned when it began!"

"Oh Maker," Veira shuddered into her hands, fighting back the urge to bawl, "why did it have to be you? And Loghain...damn it!"

"I-I'm sorry," Jowan sobbed, "I just wanted to do something right in my life for once! To make amends...for what I did."

"How is poisoning someone making amends?" she yelled angrily, glaring daggers at him.

"I thought Arl Eamon was a threat!" Jowan yelled back defensively, "why wouldn't I believe Teryn Loghain? He's a hero! And, and...that wasn't the only reason why I came here. I also came here for Arl Eamon's son."

"Conner?" Alistair demanded angrily, "what does he have to do with anything? He's just a kid!"

"He had been starting to show signs..." Jowan replied, "the Arlessa hired me to teach him in secret, so he could learn to hide his abilities. She was so terrified the Circle would take him away. Arl Eamon had no idea."

"Conner is a mage?" Veira breathed, eyes widening. "Then...then maybe he is the one who called a demon by accident."

"I thought the same," Jowan nodded, "he could have done something to tear the Veil by accident. He doesn't know much about magic, but it's still possible."

The two fell silent, unsure of what to say next. There was probably a lot they could say, but the words would not come out. She found she did believe him about not summoning a demon, even though he was a bloodmage. But...he did poison the Arl, and it was likely that started everything. Even if Jowan threw himself onto the floor and begged for a chance to help, to undo what he did, there was no way the Arl or Arlessa...or any part of society that would allow him to live. She squeezed her hand so hard her fingernails stabbed her palm. There was no way Loghain could have done anything to keep the Circle from making him Tranquil or executing him, and he knew it. What options did they have?

"Veira..." Jowan said, calling her away from her thoughts, "before we...we decide what to do with me, I need to know. What...what happened to Lily? I can't sleep at night thinking about her...please tell me they didn't hurt her!"

Veira was ashamed to admit that she didn't know. She was there, but being recruited had preoccupied her thoughts at the time. "I-I don't know. She...said she'd accept any punishment. So I suppose she was sent to Aeonar."

"Oh Maker," he sobbed, "because of me she's...I'm such a fool! Everything has fallen apart because of me! Why did I think for a second that Loghain could fix everything? I-I should give myself up...accept the punishment, like Lily did. Except I'd deserve it!"

The image played in her head. Jowan, on his knees, waiting for judgement. Of course he would be found guilty. As he stood, his shoulders slumped and face expressionless, a sunburst symbol was branded on his forehead, marking him forever. Everything about him gone forever.

Before she could realize what she was doing, she had frozen the lock on the cell door. With one swift motion of her staff, it easily broke in half, and the door swung open.

Jowan gaped at her. "What are you-"

"Go," Veira snarled, pointing towards they way they came in. "Get out."

"You can't be serious," Alistair scolded her, "he poisoned Arl Eamon! He did...something to you! How can we-"

"I can't," she choked, turning towards her friend with a pained expression, "I can't just...watch him die or be made Tranquil. I cannot do it Alistair. Could you?"

"I-" Alistair started, stepping back from her expression. He'd never seen her so hurt. "I...probably couldn't, no."

Jowan wanted to protest. "Veira, I have to-"

"This isn't a kindness," she yelled back, not letting him get the last word, "I never want to see you again, do you hear me? Never. This is just...because you were willing to take me with you when you tried to escape. That...that meant so much to me, you cannot even begin to fully understand. But as of now, we are done. Now get out!"

Jowan opened his mouth to say more, but he closed it when her glare deepened. He slowly walked out the the prison, shaking all over. He kept pausing as he walked, looking back once only to see her anger had not gone away. His eyes said the thank you he could not speak. Then he turned back and left the cellar for good.

Veira's knees almost gave out as she breathed painful short breaths, her stomach squeezing and threatening to throw up. She placed a quick hand on her mouth, willing herself breathe slower. It both worked and didn't work. "Oh Maker-I feel like I'm going to be sick..."

Zevran gently lead her towards the wall, letting her crouch down and rubbing her back in comforting circles. "Take your time," he said quietly, reassuring her. Dario whined, sitting next to her and pressing his face on her.

Alistair knelt beside her, tossing Zevran a concerned glance. "Veira, I'm sorry that I-"

"He was my friend," she stated softly into her hands, not hearing what Alistair said. Both men stopped what they were doing to listen to her intently. "For a very long time. Since we were kids. They...he and his lover Lily found out that the Templars were going to make him Tranquil. Someone accused him of using bloodmagic." She shook her head. "Ridiculous, I said. I-I readily helped him destroy his phylactery when he asked for help. But...the Circle would have found out that I helped him. So he offered to let me stay with them. As...as a family."

Alistair looked away from her. Zevran said nothing, but he continued to rub her back slowly, just in case her breathing increased. She moved her hands away from her face, placing them on her temples instead. "I-I felt like I was dreaming," Veira continued with a watery smile, "I didn't...I don't hate the Circle, but I still...I must be such a terrible mage." Her jaw clenched. "But even when we did destroy it...the Templars still caught us. And Jowan," she trembled, "he really was a bloodmage."

The young Templar's eyes widened. "He's a-"

Zevran eyed him, shaking his head as if to say 'don't make this worse.' Alistair kept his mouth shut. Veira took a long, deep breath, slowly standing up. "Ugh, I'm sorry," she said, rubbing her eyes, "we don't have time for this. We have to keep going."

"Are you certain?"

She nodded. "Yes. I'll...deal with the fallout later. We have to stop these attacks for good."

As they continued on, Alistair leaned over towards Zevran, keeping his voice down so that Veira couldn't hear him. "Hey," he whispered, almost begrudgingly, "thanks... for what you did back there. It seemed to really help."

Zevran just looked ahead, shrugging his shoulders. "I know what a panic attack looks like. Seen many in my time."

Alistair worriedly watched Veira's back for a while after that.

As feared, there were an abundance of undead inside the castle, and worse yet, a few shades and rage demons. They were among the weaker side of the demon hierarchy, but regardless still a significant threat. But they were a far cry from the demon controlling all of this, for sure. Veira tried her best to keep her mind clear and focused, but it proved to be too difficult. She would often walk in a daze, only catching herself when a new enemy appeared, and when they found the smith's daughter trapped in a storage room. She sent the woman off to follow their previous footsteps, having cleared the way.

They moved through the lower levels of the castle, through the kitchen and basement towards the outside courtyard, which would be a direct link to the throne room. Alistair all but took over leading the small group, his knowledge of the layout invaluable. When they reached the courtyard, they hid themselves against the castle wall to take a good look around before walking into anything. It was a good thing they did, as the courtyard was full of undead; a few scattered on the bottom level, and another bunch keeping watch on top of the stairs into the throne room. There was a concerning figure as well, tall and fully armoured, with a gigantic sword sheathed at it's hip. Veira couldn't see exactly what it was, if it was alive or not. Considering the rest of the skeletons were not attacking it, it was safe to say it was on their side.

Veira squinted towards the gate, managing to see body shapes behind it. Ser Perth and the rest of the knights must be waiting there, just as Teagan said. But the only way to let them in was to reach the lever that would open the gate. Unfortunately, they way to the lever was in clear view of the skeletons on top of the stairs, and they were equipped with arrows.

"Aha," Zevran laughed quietly, "looks like this is a job for a handsome rogue."

"A-are you sure?" Veira asked, "you don't have thick metal armour like Alistair..."

"W-why do you always want me to go directly in front of archers?" Alistair pouted at her.

"Ah, sorry..."

Zevran brushed a strand of blonde hair away from his eyes, standing up confidently. "Not to worry, my dear Wardens," he smiled, charm at full blast, "I will be able to solve this little problem quite easily."

Alistair rolled his eyes, but Veira couldn't see the humour in this yet. Her mind was still affected by her earlier attack, so she felt nothing but anxiety and doubt. She grabbed his hand, but not harshly. "Maybe we should think up a safer plan..."

Zevran turned to her, his features soft. "Your concern over my well-being is unnecessary, if appreciated. But I promise I can do this. I promise, Veira."

The mage blinked, her mouth slightly ajar. That was the first time he ever used her name, so far it had always been 'Warden' or 'my dear Warden.' She found it rather pleasing to hear her name spoken in his accent, a trickle of heat brushing her cheeks. Even more so when he knelt and planted a quick kiss on one of her fingers, a call back to what happened in the inn. But she felt comforted, her anxiety dying ever so slightly. "Okay," she nodded, "be careful."

Alistair just gaped at the two. Zevran noticed his expression, grinning and then winking. "Want a kiss too, Alistair?"

"N-no!" the Templar whispered harshly, his face crimson.

Zevran smirked and strode over towards the edge of the wall, taking a good look over at the stairs and the pathway to the lever. It was relatively sunny outside, which provided large shadows along the way, which the assassin eyed with great detail. He took a deep breath, and just like that, he faded into the shadows. Veira was not sure how those trained as a rogue accomplished this talent, it certainly wasn't magic, but she knew it took years to master and that it was exceedingly difficult to do so. But someone of Zevran's profession would certainly be taught how.

It was not fool-proof either, as it was not as if he were entirely invisible. If one was truly paying attention, they would be able to see movement and strike accordingly. However, the skeletons were too far away to take notice, and Zevran was so light on his feet he barely made a sound. Veira watched with bated breath as he made his way to the lever, looking for any sign that he had been spotted. But Zevran was good. Any indication that there was attention upon him he stopped, waited, and continued on. It only took him a few minutes to reach the lever.

The knights were taken aback when the gate opened, with Zevran coming into view unexpectedly. But they wasted no time in being surprised, immediately shouting and charging the closest skeletons they could find. Veira and Alistair withdrew from their hiding place, the mage watching the tall figure with cautious suspicion. The movement had roused its attention, but it still had not moved to face them. As it turned out, it only needed a few seconds to turn the success into a much scarier thing.

Suddenly a giant chain wrapped itself around Zevran, taking the assassin by surprise. The tall figure held the chain firmly, and with one pulling motion, was able to fling the elf through the air and slam him onto the ground right next to it. Dazed, Zevran groaned and rolled over, looking up at his attacker. The figure unsheathed its long sword, raising it above the assassin. Veira yelled Zevran's name in a panic, summoning her magic and tearing a large boulder from the ground. She threw it right at the hand holding the sword, and the weapon was ripped from its grip and lodged into the nearby castle wall, just before it was brought down on her fallen companion. The figure stared at its hand for a few seconds, then slowly turned its head to glare at her. Not that she could see its eyes, but rather she could feel them, along with a terrible malice. That was when she realized what it was.

A corpse possessed by a powerful demon, either a pride or desire demon, was what the Circle called a Revenant. Highly dangerous, nearly as strong as a corporeal demon straight from the Fade, her teachers had warned the apprentices that should they encounter such a creature, they should pray that they have at least four other experienced mages present during the fight. Veira gritted her teeth. We have to make due with one.

The Revenant grabbed the sword stuck inside the wall, pulling with minimal effort. Brick and dust went flying as the metal came out, the demon dragging it sluggishly as it stepped towards her. It pulled on the chain harshly, flipping Zevran over to re-take the chain and presumably use it against her. Alistair could see that plan, rushing forward with his shield ready to bash the sword away again. The Revenant did not flinch; it raised the hand with the chain and backhanded the Templar so hard he joined Zevran on the ground. Veira summoned a barrage of icicles, every fibre of her being intending to run the damned demon through. For the first time ever, her powerful ice spell did not work. The spikes bounced off the Revenant and shattered.

If Veira was caught in that chain like Zevran, it would do considerably more damage to her as she was not wearing protective armour of any sort. If pulled hard enough, it could be enough to snap her spine in half, or if not, being slammed into the ground could result in many broken bones. She raised her rock armour, but it was not the same as wearing well crafted metal. As evidenced by the wall, the demon was strong enough to cut through rock like it was nothing.

Just like she thought it would, the Revenant raised the hand holding the chain, readying to capture her in its grasp. But it found there was a much heavier target holding it back. Alistair grabbed the chain and held on for dear life, digging his feet into the ground as best he could. The Revenant pulled, and Alistair nearly let go, his face strained and muscles screaming in protest. He clearly wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. If her ice wouldn't work, she would have to rely on the next best element. She powered up her lightning, letting it crackle and whip, her eyes glowing white.

"Alistair let go!" she screamed, just before slamming her staff onto the ground and sending a huge lightning bolt through the demon. She held the spell as long as she could, watching the Revenant arch its back and smoke rise from inside its armour. Her heart sunk as the spell dissipated and the Revenant still stood, still glaring at her with all it's hatred.

Then, there was a sword through its helmet. Time seemed to stop in that moment, as its hands twitched and slowly let go of its weapon, the steel clanging against soil. Zevran had snuck up behind it, his new sword cleanly through the dark headpiece. The Revenant slowly fell to its knees, and then eventually all the way to the dirt. It moved no more.

Veira could hardly believe it was over so soon. The rest of the battle had gone well too, all the knights were accounted for and Dario bounded towards her, holding a broken spine happily in his mouth. It almost seemed to good to be true; she half expected the Archdemon to land in the courtyard and start setting everything on fire. She took a deep, shaky breath, and headed over towards her companions.

Zevran took his sword out of the dead demon's skull, then winked at her. "See? As I promised."

"Yes, I saw," she nodded, finding herself smiling, "how is your back?"

"Could be better," he winced, a bit of strain in his voice.

She took a few minutes to heal those injured, poor Alistair with a pretty dark bruise across his face. They gathered at the door leading into the throne room, dreading what they would find. Veira could still sense there was something more beyond the door, quite possibly what started all of this. The Revenant had certainly been powerful, but she doubted it was the mastermind. It was intuition, she supposed, that told her this was far from over. She pushed Jowan out of her mind once more, and headed through.

Sometimes she hated being right.