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I jump off the side of a building, slamming myself back to the ground feet-first. I feel my mana drain significantly, so I make a mental note to save that trick for another time. Then I turn and bolt, forcing myself to get back to the inn. I hope into the cart of hay from earlier, push through it, and use a boost from Hope to throw myself up at the window I fell out of. I turn and slam it shut, locking it before going to the door and locking it as well. I sag against the wall, panting for a good ten minutes. I run a hand through my sweaty hair, thanking the Maker that the inn is cold. I find the water jug from last night, the one I used to clean my face off when we first got here, and dump it on myself, feeling somewhat ridiculous, but I just sprinted across the whole of Denerim while glowing white.

I laugh at the absurdity of it. Half the citizens of Denerim recognized me. I guess there's no hiding that I'm a mage anymore.

Once I've fully recovered and dried my face off, I strip, throwing my bloody clothes into the fireplace. I change into the clothes I wear under my armor before lighting the fire again. Then I put on my equipment as quickly as possible and go out into the inn, looking down both ends of the hall to make sure no one is there. Deciding I'm alone, I pull my brush out of my pack and brush my hair as I walk down the hall. When I'm satisfied, I tie it back, enjoying the rush of cool air flooding the back of my neck.

Talith's room is closest to mine, so I head there first, knocking. I hear a low growl from inside and then someone shush the source.

"Hello?" a familiar voice asks. Wynne. What's she doing in there?

"It's Elissa," I say.

"Elissa?" The door opens, revealing Morrigan, Wolf, Wynne, and Talith, who is sleeping in his bed. "Thank the Maker, girl! What happened to you this morning?"

"Oh, you know," I say, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind me. "Howe figured out Aedan and I were in the city. Sent some creepy guy here to investigate and I caught him in my room. Chased him out into the city, and ended up in Howe's estate. Just a normal day for me."

"How'd you get out?" Wynne asks.

"Leliana, Zevran, and Sten showed up," I say, "while Howe was in the middle of beating me half to death. I had them go save Aedan while I dealt with Howe, and then I ran."

"All the way here?" Morrigan asks.

"All the way here," I confirm. "Have they shown up yet? Or are they still out in the city?"

"They're still out in the city as far as I know," Wynne says. "Why?"

I curse, punching the wall in a burst of anger. "Because the guards will be searching the city for us by now. I barely got away from them long enough to get inside." I look at Talith, but he's sleeping. "What's wrong with him?"

"Lyrium withdrawal," Morrigan says.

"Oh," I say. I rummage around in my pack, pulling out as many lyrium potions as I can hold. "Here. I don't need these." I give them to Wynne before backing away. "Where are Alistair and Cyrus?"

"Gone," Wynne says, getting up to give Talith the potions.

I stiffen. "What?"

"They're gone," Morrigan says. "Loghain took them."

With that, I turn on my heel and stomp out of the room, heading downstairs. The door opens as I reach the base of the steps, revealing my brother and the other three. Aedan looks like he's been beaten far worse than I was, but he's standing, and I'll take that as a good sign.

"Thank the Maker," he says when he sees me.

Leliana locks eyes with me and she shakes her head. "Do not think about it."

"Too late," I snap, pushing past them. "Go talk to Genitivi. We'll meet you outside of the city."

As I push past, Sten grabs my upper arm. "You are not allowed to leave."

I stiffen, choosing my words carefully as I say, "On whose orders? Yours?"

"Alistair's," Leliana says.

"To hell with it," I snap, shaking Sten off. "I don't take orders from Alistair."

I walk out into the street, running all the possible places Loghain could've put them in, when Aedan calls my name. I turn, looking back at him.

"Is Howe...?"

"There's not enough left of him to bury," I say stiffly before running to the left, back towards the south side of Denerim. I look up and the tower of Fort Drakon looms in the distance. There. Has to be.

Cyrus groans as they pull him off a wicked table that pulls your limbs apart. He hits the floor gratefully, but the guard pulls him up and drags him back up the stairs to his cell. He's practically thrown in, and he doesn't have the strength to even sit up. He just lays there, sore and stiff, unable to do much more than breathe. He can't even keep his eyes open.

"Cyrus!"

Alistair's voice snaps him out of his pain-ridden daze and he lifts his head, looking into the cell beside his own. The blond man is still clothed and untouched. Cyrus has been stripped down to his smallclothes and has finally been released from the torture.

"Are you okay?"

"No," he says, wincing. "But I'll live. Probably."

Alistair shakes his head, looking to the door when it's opened.

"You, bastard," the guard says. "On your feet. Teyrn Loghain wants a word with you."

"Great," Alistair says, huffing. He glances back at his fellow Warden, but he's passed out, and there's nothing he can do about it. Alistair sighs, walking up to the door of his cell. The guards open the door for him before marching him out. "What does the Teyrn want with me?"

"Don't know," the guard says. "But I don't suspect it to be a good thing."

Alistair sighs again, resigning himself to a long and painful day. The guards form up around him, poking and prodding him out of the chamber with their spears. He follows their directions up a set of stairs, out of a kennel, and down a hall to the right, into what looks like an office. A man in silver chainmail that reminds him of Elissa's armor sits behind a desk. Another man in heavy plate armor stands beside him.

"Dismissed," the plated man orders.

"Yes, ser," all of the people in the room say before leaving.

Alistair squares his shoulders and the black-haired man locks grey eyes on him. "Just what exactly are you doing, boy?"

"Me? Standing."

"What are you and the rest of the Wardens planning?" he demands.

"Other than defeating the Blight?" Alistair asks.

"Don't lie to me," Loghain snarls. "Your commander and Cailan were trying to get the Orlesian Wardens here, weren't they?"

"I assume so," Alistair says, shrugging. "So what? Twenty Wardens aren't enough to stop a Blight. We needed help, and last I checked, there aren't any Orlesians that would be dumb enough to attack Ferelden while the man who kicked them out was still alive."

Loghain snorts. "Are you a patriot, boy?" Alistair just raises an eyebrow. "Do you love your country?"

"Naturally."

"Then I trust those two Cousland Wardens you're running around with told you of their family's plot to open the borders up to the Orlesians?"

"Did Howe tell you that?" Alistair asks. Loghain narrows his eyes suspiciously, and Alistair can't help but laugh. "You trusted a greedy Arl over a Teyrn whose family has done nothing but defend Ferelden since King Calenhad?"

"That's not my point."

Alistair throws his hands up, laughing again. "You idiot! You just lost the trust of the second most powerful family in Ferelden to a power-hungry bastard!"

"We're done talking," Loghain says stiffly. "You refuse to see reason."

"Yeah. I do," Alistair says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Because I'm tearing Ferelden apart in a civil war while there's a Blight going on."

"Guards! Take this fool back to his cell."

Alistair regrets everything he said the instant he's back in the hallway.