In the clearing, they were still, waiting with bated breath as Arissa began her confession.

'I am not who you think I am.' Varric and Alistair exchanged startled glances. Sera reached for her bow. 'Who are you, then?' she asked, suspicion colouring her tone. 'Who the hell have I been gallivanting around Ferelden with?' Arissa looked at her, her cheeks flushed. 'You misunderstand. My name is Arissa, that part is true! But I am…I am not one of the Lavellan. I don't know who I am.' She said it simply, slowly, a painful truth she had been forced to come to terms with long ago. 'I told Kieran the story of how I was found by the halla. What I failed to mention is that she wasn't of my clan's herd. She was one of the Lavellan. I was too young to know who I was, and the Lavellan clan, at the time, mistrusted the other Dalish. So the Keeper took me in as her ward and raised me.'

Arissa took a breath, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was the part of the story that she hated, the part that still gave her nightmares, even over ten years later. 'The first time I discovered I had magic, I was fourteen. The clan was being followed by a group of slavers – from the Imperium, I think. I didn't realise who they were – they said they knew who I really was, that they could take me back to my rightful clan. I agreed to go with them.' She took a sharp breath. 'I agreed to meet them away from the clan, in secret. They threw me into chains, threatened to-' Arissa broke off, shaking her head as the memories pushed themselves to the forefront of her mind. 'The first indication I had about what I could do was when the storm came.' Varric shook his head as he cottoned on to what she was saying. Alistair and Sera was listening in horrified silence. 'I summoned it out of sheer desperation, a mad wish to kill them all where they stood. Lightning struck, killing the man nearest to me. I didn't realise it was my doing until it struck again, finding its mark and killing another of the slavers. But then a hunter came to my rescue…Darren. He ran into range of the storm, he'd been tracking me since my disappearance from camp. I tried so hard to stop my magic…' She couldn't finish the sentence. Tears poured down her face, and she stifled a sob. 'He survived,' she continued stiltingly. 'Deshanna performed a spell, and he lived because of it. She showed me, in case I lost control again.' Arissa gestured at the limp child. 'Kieran…he would have a scar, a reminder of the energy that he came into contact with. The lightning was brought about by my magic – so my magic is the best chance we have of healing him.' She looked at Alistair, and then back to Kieran, whose breath was beginning to fade. 'Please,' she begged, 'I can save him.'

Varric rested on his haunches. 'She's right, Grey.' He avoided looking at her as he spoke. 'This poultice isn't doing anything.' He was correct. Already, the grey slime was dry and cracking, almost smoking with heat. Sera stood up and walked out of the clearing, vanishing into the treeline. She collected her bow and arrows as she went, and Arissa could almost feel the hatred rolling off her skin. No doubt some poor tree would suffer Sera's wrath. Alistair looked between her and his son. His next words were a pained whisper. 'Do it.' Arissa nodded, hesitating before she spoke again. 'I need to create a circle around us both. No one else can enter the circle whilst the spell is being cast. Her mouth was dry, her heart hammer, and Alistair considered her words, before nodding. 'Fine.' He kissed Kieran on the top of his head, and laid him gently on the ground, before getting up and walking a short distance away. Varric walked away as well, and Arissa moved to kneel before the child.

'Ir abelas, Kieran,' she whispered to the boy. Fingers shaking, she fought to contain her emotions, to settle her magic. She'd need a clear mind and heart if the spell would work. Slowly, concentrating on the image of a grey pebble, Arissa felt her emotions melt away, her connection to magic surging to the forefront of her mind. It was as much concentration as she would ever get. Arissa began to weave, pulling threads of magic from the air around her, creating a glowing web around the mage and child that only she could see. The air grew thick with static, and Kieran twitched. Alistair stepped forward in alarm, and Arissa looked at him sharply. Her eyes were unnerving, the colour dissolving until her eyes were pure, liquid darkness. 'Stay back,' she warned, and he flushed, stepping backwards hastily. She turned back to Kieran, feeling the magic around her humming with anticipation. Now came the part she dreaded, the part she wasn't sure she had enough strength to control. You can do this¸ a voice whispered in her mind, and Arissa frowned, determination settling over her brow. Within the writhing webbing of the spell, Arissa drew on the crackling energy, holding it, reshaping it, creating another bolt of magical lightning from the magic. Slowly, delicately, Arissa guided the point of the bolt down to Kieran's wound. With utmost precision, the lightning touched the point of impact, and the boy jerked like a puppet on a string, shaking violently as her spell drew the tainted lightning from his body.

There were voices, shouting her name, nearby, but Arissa had no room to address them. She was one with the lightning, feeling the electricity crash through her in a million blasts of energy. She needed to move quickly. Arissa sought the spell that had harmed Kieran, listening for its discordant hum, and caught it in her hands, rising to her feet. In one swift movement, she threw the spell, thrusting her hands outside of the web of magic, and sending the lightning soaring back into the sky. Thunder rumbled overhead, and the lightning raced across the sky, flashing brighter than the sun. It was bewildering; the sensation of both standing on the solid ground, and yet feeling the rush of wind on her face as she danced among the clouds with the lightning, the immense weariness of her body and yet the endless energy of the skies. Arissa could feel all of it, and more, and the magic threatened to overwhelm her mind and take her soul with it. You must fight it, the little voice whispered to her, and it was as if Solas was standing right there, holding her hand, anchoring her. The Anchor itself sparked and spat, and Arissa was pulled to earth. She felt the ground beneath her feet, felt the sigh of wind as it released her mind back to the earth.

She could feel the magic leaving her, and Arissa collapsed, folding into herself as she hit the earth. The spell took everything from her and it was all she could to resist blacking out on the spot. The web of magic had dissolved with the release of the lightning, and she saw Alistair crash to his knees next to his son. The boy had regained a little colour, and his chest rose and fell with regularity. The spell had worked – he would live. Arissa felt the remnants of the spell leave her, and she closed her eyes. Ignoring the distant, frantic voice calling her name, and gave in to the darkness.

The Inquisitor had collapsed, but Alistair had nothing for her, his entire being filled with worry for his son. Kieran's eyes were still closed, and Alistair cradled him, sending a silent prayer to the Maker to save him. Suddenly, his eyes opened, and Alistair blinked, startled, sure he hadn't just seen traces of lightning flickering across his irises. 'Father?' he whispered, and Alistair hugged to him tightly, blinking back tears. 'Oh, Kieran,' he answered, and Kieran snuggled against his arms. Alistair chuckled. 'Your mother would have had my hide if she found out.' Kieran laughed as well. Varric, meanwhile, was tending to Arissa. 'She's completely out,' he announced, sounding worried. 'There's barely a pulse there at all.' Sera reappeared. Clearly she hadn't been far away, and kept sneaking suspicious glances at the sky. Her bow and quiver were strapped to her back, and a scowl creased her face. 'What's wrong with her?' Varric looked up at the sound of her voice. 'She used a spell to heal Kieran, but it's taken a toll on her.' He sighed, shaking his head. 'Ah, Tiny.' He paused, studying the unconscious elf. 'Solas would know what to do.' Another pause. 'She needs to rest.' He stood, and fetched her cloak, wrapping it into a square and placing under Arissa's head. Varric stood over her for a moment longer, before returning to his own belongings. He reached for Bianca, and hefted her onto his shoulder. 'I'm going hunting,' he said. 'Anyone coming with?' Sera nodded, and the two of them disappeared back into the forest, leaving Alistair and Kieran with the unconscious Inquisitor.