Summary: In the face of Shina's betrayal, something is awakened in Scarlett that she's never experienced before. Zevran, however, is having a tough time accepting the facts. Meanwhile, the gang finds a new friend in high places.


I can't really tell you what happened next. It was the strangest thing. I'm not quite sure how to describe it. You know that feeling you get when you're not sure if you're awake or if you're still dreaming? That's basically what it was like. I was stuck in the in-between, hovering on the cusp of oblivion, barely existing within the thin line that exists only to separate life from death. I don't know how long I was there. I don't know who was there with me. All I can say is that I very well may have died that day, and somehow, some way, Wynne brought me back.

I awoke gasping for air, frantically searching my surroundings with flooded eyes, though what I was searching for I couldn't tell you. I think I was just supremely disoriented and sought the mild comfort of anything even remotely familiar. Much to my relief I saw my companions weren't any worse for wear. They were just curled up in little balls, sleeping like babes and dead to the world. Alistair's fingers were searching for my hair to twirl, but as it was out of reach, his fingers opted to twirl the air instead. Maker's breath, he's adorable. Gah! Focus, Scarlett. I looked around once more at my comatose compatriots. No blood anywhere. Tummies steadily rising and falling with each even breath they took. Peachy. Everything seemed to be A-OK.

And then it dawned on me. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6… We were missing someone. Wynne. Where in the Maker's name was Wynne?! I went back to surveying the area as quickly as my enfeebled body would allow, which was roughly the speed to a geriatric tortoise. My search came to an abrupt halt, however, once the demon came into view.

I tried to reach for my sword, to snap my brain out of whatever fugue state it was forced into. But as the demon grew closer to me, it was as though it were draining my very life force. Somehow just being near the thing was weakening me to the point of utter exhaustion. I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone wield a weapon. Oh good. That bodes well.

Luckily, right when I was about to give up hope, Wynne stepped into view. She was seemingly aware of her surroundings and able to move freely—unlike the rest of us. As such, she opted to take on the creature on alone. And I just sat there, helpless to do anything but watch.

My mind wasn't running on all cylinders just yet, but as I studied at the creature's grotesque, misshapen form, I wasn't afraid—not really. I guess when you deal with unimaginable horrors almost nonstop, the shock value can really wane. All I saw when I looked at that ugly son of a bitch was a puppet. And though I was struggling to remember every little misstep that led us to this moment, I did manage to get a very clear image of who was pulling the strings.

Shina.

How? was my first thought. But that didn't take too long to figure out, even in my only semi-lucid condition. During our travels, we'd encountered instances of maleficar summoning demons. I couldn't begin to guess how they do it, but if Avernus and Shale's former master were to be believed, it was definitely possible. Shina must be a blood mage.

And then, naturally, the big question followed: Why?

My mind raced, flipping through images of a forgotten past like some half-finished picture book, trying desperately to form a complete depiction of what had happened as Wynne dealt blow after magical blow at the demon. The mage seemed completely immune somehow to her adversary's draining effects. Try as the Shade might, it just couldn't get the drop on her—especially now that Wynne had figured out how to call on help from her… uh… "spirit friend," when necessary. This was one such occasion.

So I kept sitting on the ground like a lump, trying to focus on every sordid detail that brought us to this lowly state. It was all I could do, really. Moving so much as an inch felt like running a mile. What is it with this accursed place and its affinity for paralyzing people?! Geez!

I concentrated so hard my head felt like it would split in two. Then things started, ever so slowly, to come back to me. I remembered Shina leading us here. I remembered Zevran and Leliana being among the first to fall prey to the demon's illusion. Then I remembered Shina saying something before I also went down…

… What was it?! Come on, Scarlett! What were all those lateral thinking puzzles good for if you let this stupid demon turn your brain to mush?!

She had given me some piece of information. Some IMPORTANT information. The name of the one who had sent her after us. Think! Think! THINK!

It was on the tip of my tongue when I felt a familiar hand squeeze my thigh. Alistair! He must have crawled over to me while I was lost in that train of thought. The boy's strength was damn impressive—doing so much as blinking right now tuckered me out. He looked up to meet my eyes before the exhaustion overtook him again, his mother's necklace slipping out of his armor as he collapsed at my side, no longer able to keep himself up on all fours.

I studied the amulet in attempt to focus my mind, following the lines of its mended cracks and worn, smooth shape. Then I got to thinking about where I found it. And who repaired it. And why it was shattered in the first place.

And then the dam broke. The memory came flooding back with a vengeance. And that vengeance, for one shining moment, breathed new life into my dormant soul. I curled my fingers around the pommel of my sword, and this time it didn't feel heavy or unwieldy. This time, it felt like the most natural thing in the world—like a pure extension of my very being.

I got to my feet, every inch of my body singing with new energy, powered by nothing but rage and revenge. I drew closer to the demon, all but ignoring Wynne's attacks that somehow kept missing me, and I began to wail on that thing like there was no tomorrow. I stabbed and I thrusted and I sliced and I kicked and I punched and I roared and rampaged. All sorts of things were running through my mind as I felt the juicy satisfaction of my sword repeatedly sinking into flesh—or something like it. Isolde's smug, mousey little face sitting pretty in Denerim, Loghain with sunken eyes and bloodied hands occupying the throne at her side, Rendon Howe lurking in the nearby shadows, spreading his treachery like a plague. Oh, it was all coming together alright. A veritable triumvirate of avarice, ambition, and annihilation. And Maker as my witness, whatever the cost, I would be their end.

"Scarlett!" Wynne shrieked. At least, I think she did. I barely heard her. I could hardly focus on anything but fighting.

"SCARLETT!" I heard my companions cry out in unison as I felt a pair of arms wrap around my body and pull me back. I struggled to break free and succeeded with a thunderous cry as I went back to the task at hand. Nothing mattered. Nothing but killing that fucking demon.

"Outta the way. I'll handle this." was all I heard someone say in a gruff voice before the contents of an entire bucket of water were hurled at my face.

I gasped at the shock of the cold water against my skin, my eyes blinking wildly as I slowly came to realize what was going on.

The demon was dead. It had been dead for some time now. I was just too blinded by my anger to realize it.

"Only one sure way I know of to snap a berserker out of a trance like that. Water'll cool down that fire. At least, most of the time." Oghren explained.

"What… what did you call me?" I asked as I wiped the beads of water from my eyelashes and wrung out my hair.

"A berserker. I've never seen one who isn't a dwarf, but I'll be damned if you ain't one."

"What does that mean?" I gave the dwarf a puzzled look.

"It's pretty simple. Berserkers use their anger to give themselves an edge in battle. And from what I just saw, you're a natural, girly."

"Did you see what just happened? I'd say she did more than give herself 'an edge.' We were all lying there helpless from that demon's spell and she just shrugged it off like it was nothing. How is that even possible?" Alistair inquired.

"Uh, how do I explain this…. er… have you ever heard the tales of people doin', ya know, crazy things sometimes?"

"You mean like a dwarf getting piss drunk, completely stripping off his clothes, and thrusting his pelvis while shouting, 'Who wants to slay this dragon?'"

"Don't be ridiculous, boy! Someone would have to be outta their nug-lickin' skull to—"

"Yeaaaah, that was you, Oghren. Just last week." Alistair countered.

"Huh… really? Did anyone take me up on it?" The dwarf looked around hopefully. Alistair facepalmed.

"Focus, Oghren!" I chided.

"Right right. No, not that kinda crazy. Uhh, let's say someone's about tumble off a cliff, and another person catches 'em and somehow lifts 'em to safety with just one arm. Any other time, they wouldn't be able to do that—the dead weight would make them fall, too. But because of the uh, extreme circumstances, they can tap into strength they didn't know they had. That's a berserker—they just latch onto their rage and channel it so it becomes something useful. And sometimes, they can do some pretty extraordinary things."

"Like killing an incredibly powerful demon single-handedly?" Alistair posed.

"Hey! Not true!" I interjected. "Wynne was the real star of the show. She saved our lives. I just finished the job."

"I was wearing it down, yes, but what you did, Scarlett… Maker have mercy. I've never seen anything like it." Wynne stared at me in what I could only guess was some combination of fear and awe.

I tried to set my eyes on what remained of the demon, but it had dissipated into smoke before I could really get a look at the damage I'd done. But I did know one thing for certain: For a minute there, I lost myself. Reality went bye-bye. I didn't know my companions had awoken. I didn't know my target had been eliminated. I knew nothing but KILL KILL KILL. And that scared the shit out of me.

"How much do you know of this, Oghren?" I asked.

"Well, I'm a berserker myself, so…"

"Can you… teach me how to control it?" I requested meekly.

"What was that?" The dwarf stuck a finger in his ear, wiggled it about, pulled out some wax and, of course, ate it. "Sorry, the air on the surface must be wreakin' havoc on ol' Oghren's hearing. It sounded like you were askin' for my help."

Ugh, I knew he'd be like this. But I was desperate. I had to learn how to control my anger, or it was sure as shit going to control me.

"I am. Oghren, will you help me?" I beseeched the dwarf in earnest.

"Hmm… not sure. Didn't hear a please."

"Please."

"Pretty please? With a flagon of ale on top?" The dwarf taunted.

"Grrrrr. You know what? Forget it."

"Hey hey hey. I'm just messin' about. Course I'll help ya." The dwarf slapped me hard on the buttocks, earning an immediate retaliatory slap upside the head from Alistair. Good. Saved me from having to do it.

"Well, I am glad we are all alive and well, though I do wonder where Shina disappeared to. She was our guide, was she not?" Zevran looked around for his lost pseudo-mother, giving no inclination whatsoever that he knew of her treachery.

"Zev? You… you know she was the one who led us here, right?" I asked carefully.

"Of course, but I am sure she did not mean for us to come to any harm. How could she know what awaited us?" The elf countered.

"Oh, she knew exactly what awaited us. And that is precisely why she led us here. Take it from one who knows a thing or two about deceitful mother figures. She wished us all to perish by that demon's hands. I guarantee it." Morrigan chimed in.

"Nonsense! That woman is kind. And gentle. And nurturing. In other words, Shina is everything you are not." Zevran insisted bitterly.

Morrigan stared daggers a the Antivan, but didn't give him the satisfaction of an argument.

"I… I think you were already asleep when she said it, Zev, but... Shina is working for Isolde." I explained.

The elf shook his head violently. "No. No I do not believe it. Why would she save me from the wolves only to later throw me to them?"

"To gain your trust. And the trust of all of us." Leliana answered reluctantly as she placed a consoling hand on Zev's shoulder. "I am sorry, Zevran, but I am very familiar with the art of deception. It is a dance I know well. I believe Scarlett is right. Shina knew what she was doing when she led us here."

"Oh, is that so? My my my, how quickly the 'Maker's miracles' become traitorous plots. Tell me, do you truly believe the bullshit you spew, or is it merely for your entertainment that you subject the rest of us to it?" Zevran remarked coldly.

Leliana removed her hand from the elf's body as quickly as she could, as though it had been lingering over a hot stove. And if looks could kill, Zevran would be dead as a doornail.

"Okay, let's just stop right now before things turn ugly. Er... uglier. When we find Shina we can get to the bottom of this once and for all." Alistair reasoned.

The elf nodded to himself, a new determination filling his umber eyes. "Not if I find her first."

And with that, quick as a flash, the elf took off, his lithe form quickly disappearing among the dense grass and thick foliage of the night.

Leliana let out a frustrated groan. "GRRR. How could be so foolish? So cruel? The Zevran I've come to know would never—"

"There's your answer. He's not the Zevran you know." I explained.

"You've lost me."

"Shina is a blood mage who summoned a demon to attack us. No small feat. I don't think it's too much of a leap to think she may also have the ability to bewitch Zevran somehow." I reasoned.

"He… he has been acting a bit strange since she rescued him. The entire time we've been in these woods he's followed her around like a lost puppy. It's all very… un-Zevran." Leliana assented.

I closed my eyes and began rubbing my temples. "Ugh, this is getting more and more complicated by the minute."

"Should we go after him?" The bard asked.

"To be clear, you are asking whether we should chase the spellbound assassin who was almost immediately engulfed by the dark of the wood in a place where we only just narrowly escaped our deaths moments ago? Is that right? Tell me, have you considered the possibility that when your precious Maker was giving out brains, you lingered last in line?" Morrigan rolled her eyes.

"She's right, Leliana. Er, not the insulting bit, but the other bit." Nice save, Scarlett. "No way can we find Zev in these surroundings; especially now that he doesn't want to be found. We'll just have to hope that he doesn't do anything stupid."

"Yes, well, it's a sad state of affairs indeed when it is left to me to be the voice of reason, but as night has fallen, don't squishy flesh creatures require shelter of some kind lest they fall prey to superior organisms with bigger teeth?" Shale posed.

"The golem raises a good point. We need protection while we sleep and the thin walls of our tents will offer little security against the elements out here." Wynne added.

"Okay, I guess we should look around to see if there's a cave or something. Just… don't stray too far from the group." I warned.

"We have been meandering about these woods all day. You know as well as I that there is no bloody cave." Morrigan groaned.

"Fine. What do you suggest?"

"I did not offer a suggestion. Merely an observation."

"Convenient." I sighed before hanging my head in defeat.

"What about that?" Alistair offered.

"...What?" I asked as I raised my head and looked around to see fuck all.

"That!" Alistair pointed to a not-so-distant tree that easily dwarfed all the others within the vicinity.

"... I don't follow."

"We climb it and sleep in the branches. I mean, look at the size of that thing! Being that high off the ground will likely protect us from… whatever unpleasantness might cross our path. Unless someone else has got a better idea…"

Everyone looked around nonchalantly, as though they were students trying to avoid being called on by their tutor. Ugh, climbing an enormous tree in the dark so did not sound like fun, but what choice did we have? Morrigan was right; we'd combed nearly every inch of this area of the forest and there was nothing in the way of shelter to be found. As much as I hated to admit it, this was likely our best option.

"Well, it seems having your head in the clouds all the time has finally paid off, young man." Wynne joked.

"Had to happen sometime." Alistair winked. "Come on."

Alistair grabbed my hand and led the group to the massive oak. It didn't attack us on sight, so I assumed this was just your average, everyday tree—not one of the homicidal ones we'd encountered so much of recently. Alistair dropped his supplies at the base of it and began to climb. Once he had a firm grasp, he offered his hand down to me. I hesitated to take it.

"Come on, it's not so bad once you're up here, I promise."

"I've not had the greatest experience with trees, of late." I grimaced as I finished taking my armor off.

"Strange, I seem to have exceedingly fond memories of the last tree you and I were in together." Alistair smirked.

Aaaaand my frown turned immediately upside down when I thought of that first night we spent together. Damnit. Why did he always insist on making me smile when I was perfectly content to be miserable?

"Touche." I grabbed his hand and, not without difficulty, managed to climb the damn thing. Once we were up, the others followed suit, save for Shale and Meatball who would stay on the ground and keep watch, bless their hearts.

We found an especially wide section of a massive limb extending from the tree's crown and nestled in as best we could, Alistair's back resting against the trunk and my back resting against his chest and stomach. It wasn't perfect, but so long as it kept the dangers of the forest at bay, I was content enough.

Alistair asked as he gave me a warm hug and unfurled the blanket he'd brought up with him. "Hmm… you seem a bit tense, my dear." He noticed.

"Tense? Why in the world should I be tense? It's not like we've made virtually no progress in finding Witherfang. Or that we've uncovered a nefarious plot set in motion by one of our innumerable enemies to have us all killed. Or that one of our own has disappeared into the night because he's under a blood mage's spell. Or—"

"Is there anything we can do about all of that right now?"

"Well, not really, but—"

"Then you really need to use this time to unwind a bit, Scarlett. We'll handle this. Just like we've handled every other blasted thing that's come our way." He kissed my head and took a deep breath in as I leaned fully back against his body in an attempt to follow his advice. "You smell so wonderful. How do you do that?"

I couldn't help but laugh at the abrupt change in subject. "You are such a liar. There is no possible way you could mean that."

We'd been wandering aimlessly around the dirty forest for hours. Although a bath wasn't number one on the priority list, I was well aware that I needed one. We all did.

"Bah! You wound me, my lady. I do mean it. You smell really, really good."

"Yeah, I've often heard the way to a man's heart isn't sweet perfume, but the pungent scent of dirt, sweat, and blood."

He chuckled brightly. "What can I say? Underneath it all, you still smell like… you. And that scent is... intoxicating." Alistair began planting gentle kisses along my neck as I felt his fingers begin tickling my sides ever so lightly.

Oh, I so knew where this was going.

"Alistair! No!" I whispered as forcefully as I could as I felt his fingers make their way under my shirt, his tickles becoming more deliberate, making me giggle despite myself.

"You made me leader, remember? You don't get to tell me no. It's not part of the arrangement." Alistair jested as he held me tighter, his tickles becoming more merciless, making me convulse and contort and almost lose my balance. I gasped in terror as I felt myself begin to succumb to gravity. Alistair steadied me and prevented my fall out of our spot in the tree. My heart was beating so hard I thought it might pop out of my chest as I heard the ex-warden begin laughing to himself.

"Relax, Scarlett. You should know by now that I'll always be here to catch you." He smiled smugly before he gave the flesh of my hips a playful squeeze.

"I think this whole being a leader thing has gone to your head, young man. But let's not forget that you're only in charge because I'm allowing it." I teased.

His jaw dropped in feigned offense as soon as I said it. Seizing the opportunity to test me further, he dared to dip his fingers inside the waistband of my pants and began unlacing them with his other hand.

I shook my head vehemently. "Absolutely not! We have zero privacy. None. They're sure to hear—"

"Then I guess you're going to have to be very, very quiet." I felt him grin against my ear as his intrepid fingers continued to wiggle their way into my smalls. I bit my lips into a thin line to stifle the moan I felt forming in my throat as his fingertips slipped past my folds and grazed my hidden pearl.

"But—"

"Shhh." He gently commanded into my ear as his fingers kept rolling over me, making my eyes flutter with pleasure. "You've been through a lot lately. Just... let go for once, hm?"

I thought about fighting it, but he felt so, so, so, so good. I just nodded slowly as I melted into him, the rough pads of his fingers moving so fluidly over my now throbbing bud as I felt him begin to harden at my back. That made the experience all the sweeter—knowing he was enjoying this just as much as I was.

"Maker's breath, I've missed touching you." He breathed against my ear, and for all my tries I did let a short moan slip that time. I felt his grin return. He knows what that voice of his does to me. He started picking up the pace a little as soon as he got wind of my rising excitement. I tried to hold my breath, to stay completely silent, but somehow that only intensified the exquisite sensations he was giving me. Alistair kept drawing those maddening circles with his fingertips, each wave of pleasure they caused almost becoming overpowered by the ache in my empty core. I wanted him inside so much it hurt, but I knew that was impossible. And somehow, the fact that his sweet touch was also complete torture made the encounter all the more... exhilarating. No, Scarlett. You will not be getting your way. You will be denied. And you will remain at your lover's mercy.

It was a feeling I wasn't exactly accustomed to, but it was one I was beginning to accept, and maybe even embrace. Sometimes, Alistair would be running the show, especially if he was going to be king. And if I could go against my very controlling and stubborn nature once in awhile and simply let him, the outcome, I was beginning to learn, could often prove to be... a very pleasant surprise.

I dug my fingers into the thick of Alistair's thighs, feeling myself pulse and twitch and quiver with every small movement he made. I was close. And he knew it. He nibbled on my ear and breathed heavily into it, sending a shiver down my spine as I felt a tingling heat begin to grow and pool between my legs. I felt my every muscle tighten as my back arched, the sensations from those incessant fingers becoming almost too much to bear. Alistair seized my mouth as I went soaring over the edge, stifling any sound I might have made and devouring my release the only way he could.

As I came back down he removed his hand and wrapped me tighter in his arms, the single kiss breaking into two slow, knowing smiles.

"You know, I'm beginning to see the benefits of letting you have your way once in awhile." I admitted as I gently rubbed my nose against his.

He sniggered at that. "I take it you approve of my, uh, leadership technique?"

"Oh, I find your methods quite… stimulating." I smirked before giving him another soft kiss. "Thank you. For that."

"My pleasure." He winked. "Now get some sleep, my love. No more talk of wolves or plagues or berserkers or maleficar. Just close your eyes and rest your mind. Everything will be better in the morning."

I awoke to the sound of someone singing. A baritone... no—even lower. A bass if my ears didn't deceive me. It was a pleasant melody, cheerful and calming in its simplicity. I knew Alistair was still asleep behind me, so that ruled him out—not to mention, the boy was completely tone deaf. Oghren was snoring so loudly I was surprised he wasn't cutting down every tree in the vicinity. Shale's voice was deep, but she didn't strike me as the musical type.

Okay, Scarlett, don't panic. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.

I shook Alistair awake immediately. Yeah, I admit it. That whole "don't panic" thing wasn't working out so well.

"Alistair!" I half-shouted, half-whispered.

"What, what is it?!" He blinked awake, searching frantically for his sword, which we'd left on the ground beneath us.

"We are not alone." I said it almost under my breath, my lips barely moving in case the mystery songster could see us somehow.

"Please forgive if thou dost not enjoy my song. But I have been here all along." A booming voice stated matter-of-factly. My eyes widened in fear. What in the Maker's name were we dealing with here?! (Great, now I'm rhyming, too. Fantastic.)

"Down. Must get down. NOW." I don't know if it was a realization or a command or some combination of both, but despite the difficulty I'd had climbing that bloody tree, somehow I found myself quite adept at getting back down—being scared out of your wits tends to be a great motivator.

There was no time to put my ill-fitting armor back on, but I did grab my sword as soon as my feet touched the ground. The others, once they managed to join me, followed suit. I surveyed our surroundings, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice as quickly as possible. The exercise was futile. We appeared to be completely alone. And then I learned the truth—the owner of the voice was literally right there in front of us. The tree we'd chosen to sleep in was apparently sentient after all. I raised my sword and pointed it at the gargantuan oak.

"Now now, there is no need for such hostility. Let us handle this with civility."

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my now-trembling sword. I know it must sound ridiculous, being terrified of a big tree. But the thing was titanic, and that deep voice quaked the very earth we were stood on. You'd probably be shaking like a leaf, too (pun intended).

"W-What are you?" I croaked.

"Allow me a moment to welcome thee. I am called the Grand Oak. Sometimes Elder Tree. I trust thee slept well among my limbs. I thought it best to awaken thee gently, with a hymn."

I lowered my sword. Probably best not to piss off the rhyming tree that could crush us all by taking a single step, right?

"We didn't mean to trespass, honest. Had you announced yourself sooner we would never have—"

"Tis a lonely existence out here in the wood. To have such company did this great tree some good."

I tried to think about all of this rationally. Okay, so, we now had a talking tree—a stark contrast from those other ones who attacked us on sight. This forest had rarely provided us many opportunities for gaining information, and despite everything going completely sideways, we did still have a job to do.

"You, uh, you seem a knowledgeable sort. Tell me, do you know where I can find Witherfang's lair?" I asked. Couldn't hurt, right?

Alistair couldn't help but laugh and shook his head. "Only you could discover a giant talking tree in the forest and remain completely unphased. That's my Scarlett. All business."

"It's a gift." I smirked.

"In the center of the forest, the Weres do dwell. Or so go the tales my fellows tell. But they cannot be followed there. The forest doth protect the Weres."

"Why? Why are they protected?" Alistair interjected. (I rhymed again. UGH! It's contagious, I tell you!)

"Perhaps the Weres use magic to command the trees. All I know is they move as they please."

"So, you're saying there's no way for us to find our way through this forest. Do I have that right?" I asked as I began to rub my temples to fight the headache I felt coming on. Between Shina, Zev, Isolde, and all the other loveliness this place had subjected us to, I was just about full up on my tolerance for shitty news.

"There may be a way, but there's a price to pay. I was glad to be thine shelter for the night. But a debt is now owed—wilt thou make it right?"

Figures.

"...What do you want?" I asked hesitantly.

"I have but one desire. To solve a matter very dire. As I slept one early morn, a thief did come and steal an acorn. All I have is my being, my seed. Without it, I am alone indeed. I cannot go and seek it out. Yet I shall die if left without."

"Er… okay. Sounds easy enough. Though, as I'm sure you're aware, this forest is tough to navigate. Could you point us in the right direction?"

"Go to the east to find this man. I shall await. Do what thou can."

"So, to recap, we find the thief who stole your acorn. We bring it back. And poof! We can access the werewolves' lair?" Alistair clarified.

The tree nodded. And yeah, it was about as unnerving as it sounds.

"Perform the boon as I ask. And I shall reward thee for the task."

"Don't bother. I have it right here." Zevran walked up from apparently out of nowhere and held up a tiny, insignificant acorn for the Great Oak to inspect.

"Zev?! But… but how?!" I somehow managed to ask, even though my jaw was on the floor.

"I crossed paths with a rather… eccentric creature in my travels last night. As luck would have it, the hermit had an affinity for shiny things. And you know me, I am never without my share of glittering trinkets. He had a few… curious items he was willing to barter. And something told me to take him up on it."

"But you love your shiny things… I've seen you risk life and limb for useless baubles." Alistair scratched his head. "And wait a minute. What are you even doing back here? Did you find Shina?"

"I did not. The hold she had on me, the connection she forged, it seems it has been severed. My mind is my own again. And as such, it was rather easy to let go of my worldly possessions. If this experience has taught me anything, it's that all that glitters is not gold."

He approached the grand oak, hand still outstretched toward it. "Here, my friend. May this family reunion be much happier than mine."

"I wish thee well, my mortal friend. Thou brought my sadness to an end! May the sunlight find you, thy days be long, thy winters kind, and thy roots be strong."

And with that, the Grand Oak went on its merry way, taking its lumbering steps slow as molasses. (Get it? Lumber? It's a tree? I got a million of 'em.)

"If the connection's been severed, that means Shina's likely dead, right?" I asked, unable to conceal the hint of hopefulness laced in my tone.

Wynne shook her head. "Not necessarily. It would take a great deal of concentration to maintain a spell such as the one she cast on Zevran. It is possible that Shina has encountered something that broke that concentration. Nothing more."

Fuck.

Just then, the tree turned around and made its way back to us.

"Please forgive me for being rude. I have no wish to intrude. But I know the elf of which you speak. She sought to control the Sylvan spirits. She sought to control me."

"What do you mean 'control you'?"

"The power she wields is dark and strong. She called to the forest spirits with her sour song. Some of the others fell prey to the witch. But I have managed to somehow resist."

"Do you know where she is now?" I asked.

The elder tree fell silent for a moment, seeming to really focus its attention. Maybe it could feel all the goings on within the Brecilian Forest by nature of its spirit connection to it. Or maybe there was some sort of network between the Oak and its fellow trees that gave it increased insight. I didn't know and I didn't care. I just wanted all the help it could give us.

"A demon she summoned has broken free of its cell. She is now at its mercy, as best I can tell. Tis a lesson all should learn: When one plays with fire, one is bound to get burned."