"Well, this has gone to shit rather quickly."

Alistair grunts from beside me, ducking under the axe of a hurlock. I reach over him and drag my sword across the darkspawn's throat. "You don't say!"

"No, I don't!" I retort blandly.

Alistair huffs and straightens, covering me with his shield from an arrow. It bounces off and he moves, giving me the opportunity to blast the genlock away with a burst of icy air. Carver launches himself across the battlefield into a pack of genlocks and hurlocks closing in on Leliana and Nate. With a flick of my wrist, I drop three and burn several more, barely missing Carver. He doesn't seem fazed, and I have a pissed alpha trying to decapitate me, so I turn away, dancing to the side as its sword flies past. I blow out its knee before shoving my sword through its chest.

"Watch your back," Aedan says after I whip around to see him kicking a genlock off his sword. "I like having a sister, you know."

I match the grin on his face. "I have two brothers. One is enough."

"Oh that's mean."

"You'll get over it," I say, laughing. The darkspawn on this half of the chamber are dealt with quickly, so the three of us run to the aid of Carver, Nate, and Leliana. I find myself backed up to a wall, but I free myself easily, kicking a genlock in the temple hard enough to kill it and twist my ankle. I grit my teeth through the pain and get through the rest of the fight without much fuss, but drop to the ground the instant I can. Tossing my boot aside, I check that none of my toes are broken, and then heal what little damage I did to myself. I pull the boot back on while asking if anyone else needs healed. Once it's decided that no, everyone else is all right, we continue on through the tunnel to a clear spot, at which point we agree it's time to stop.

We set up a small camp and plan out the night's watch rotation before breaking out the food and water. Sitting here in the dank tunnels of the Deep Roads is almost normal for me.

Leliana catches my eyes while putting a pot over the fire. I raise a brow questioningly, so she says, "Something's been bothering me, Liss. For a while."

"And how long is a while?"

"Since the Blight," she says.

"Oh. Yeah, that's a while all right."

She snorts, flinching when the water splashes onto her cheek. "I wanted to ask where you were during those four months you were away."

I almost choke on the water I'm drinking. The question catches me off guard and for a moment, I have no idea how to answer. Then I gather my wits and say, "Uh...things. Learning how to cooperate with Hope. Taking care of little things that could've evolved into real problems."

Leliana doesn't accept that as an answer. Just as she goes to ask for an explanation, Alistair says, "Such as? It may be important later."

I hesitate, glancing nervously to Nate and Carver. They're both aware of the Agents of the Maker; most of Thedas knows about us. But they don't know any of our secrets. Nobody does but us, and I'm not inclined to give any up so easily. I do owe Aedan, Alistair, and Leliana an explanation for that disappearance. I dropped the Blight on them and left them to fulfill two treaties on their own. I barely got back with the flow of things before the Archdemon appeared, and when I did rejoin them, I had changed. What I did to the three of them...it wasn't fair. It has been seven years, and I still have yet to explain my disappearance to them. It's not that I didn't want to tell them because don't get me wrong, I really do, but those four months were horrible for me, and I don't want to remember it, or think about it. Hope helps me suppress the memories, but some days, they come back without warning, and they kill me.

"I don't even know where to begin," I admit.

"Then let's start from the beginning," Leliana says. "What happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes?"

"I don't even know," I say softly. "Not really, at least. I found Andraste's sword waiting for me in the chamber with Her Ashes. Then I blacked out."

"What happened after that?" Aedan presses.

Although I'm well aware this conversation now involves everyone, I decide to talk directly to Leliana only, seeing as she's the one who broached the subject. "I woke on the floor of the Temple, hand burning..."


Wake up! a voice shouts.

I jolt myself upright, looking around wildly. I don't recognize any of this, or anything, or even the sword by my knee. I can't focus on my memories as I try to draw them back. They flit away, always just out of my reach, and only serve to frustrate me further. So instead of worrying over that, I check to make sure I'm not wounded, pausing briefly to stare at the...thing stamped in the center of my chest. A...bird? I don't know what it is.

As a matter of fact, I don't know what anything is. I don't even recall my own name.

It feels like a habit when I scour my surroundings more thoroughly. I used to do that often? Why? Was I someone important who needed to make sure they were safe wherever they went? Was I some sort of criminal that needed to check for guards constantly? I don't know. Trying to remember makes my head throb painfully.

Cautious, I begin to push myself to my feet, but pain lances up my right arm and back down through my hand. I yelp and drop back to the floor, clutching my arm to my chest. It feels like I was burned, but by what? What burn sends pain all through your arm?

I flex my wrist experimentally, but nothing happens. It feels fine, so I make a fist, and that's when it hurts again. Wincing, I realize the burning sensation originates from the palm of my hand. Did I touch something hot? Did-

My jaw almost drops at the sight. Burned onto my hand is an eye, looking like someone took a branding iron to my flesh. The scar already looks old, but the skin around it still looks inflamed, like this was recent. I run my thumb across the mark hesitantly, breath hitching in my throat at the wave of pain going through my arm. What else did I expect? That it was going to be perfectly okay? Stupid!

You need to get out of here.

The voice registers. Somehow, miraculously. Hope. Hope is a part of me; I can trust her. Having one memory to latch onto makes me feel only slightly better.

You need to go, Elissa. The Father commands it.

My name? Elissa? For a moment, I think it sounds dumber than what I just did moments ago, but it feels...right. Yes, that's my name.

"They're coming for you, Agent," a deep voice says from behind. I twist at the waist to see, showing a middle-aged man with a dark beard standing in front of a door. "You must go. They cannot find you."

"Who is 'they'?"

He hesitates. "People...who would do you harm. You must go. Hurry!"

Outside, I hear muffled voices as they approach the door. They sound frantic, worried even, and I think I hear my name a few times.

"Go!"

I grab the gold and bronze sword by my leg and roll to my feet before bolting towards the only other exit within sight.


"You were in there when we were at the bridge?" Alistair asks.

"Not for long," I admit awkwardly. "I...I don't think I've ever run quite so fast in my entire life, actually." I flick mg gaze over to him, smiling faintly, and say, "It's kind of ironic, isn't it? I spent those four months wondering what I left, and what I was running from, and they ended up being the same."

"It's wrong," Aedan says. "Why did the Maker tell you to leave? It doesn't make sense."

"And you expect it to?" Leliana retorts. "The last time something in my life made sense, I was twenty-five. And that's also when I made the mistake of joining your merry band of misfits."

"Hey, you offered, and I had recently recovered from a head injury," Aedan says. "I was following Elissa's lead."

"Pfft, sure you were," I say. "Excuses, excuses."

Aedan blinks, mouth agape, and shakes his head. "We're twins, and not even you and I do that. How do you two always manage to...to..." Aedan trails off, making an exasperated motion with his hands. "I hate it when you do that."

Leliana and I exchange looks before laughing.

I silently thank the Maker for the change of topic, and Leliana's lack of interest in reopening the subject. But the way she fixes me with that stare, I can tell this isn't over.

We stay up a little longer, exchanging stories and jokes, before I decide I'm tired enough for sleep. I excuse myself and go sit between two rock-pillars, wedging myself inside in such a way that I can see both ends of the tunnel clearly. Then I take my blanket from my pack and throw it over my legs, shifting slightly to be more comfortable.

Sitting here, trying to doze off, is when the memories surface. This is always the time bad memories try to attack me, the time right before I fall asleep. And without fail, they give me nightmares. I have yet to get through one night without a bad dream. None of my dreams are pleasant. Not since joining the Wardens. Through the Blight, it was nightmares of the Archdemon and Howe's raid on Highever. Afterwards it was things fabricated by the Architect and demons in the Fade. Nowadays...now I dream of battles with Orlesians, listening to the screams of Fereldan soldiers as the Chevaliers cut them down.

Thoughts of the blood spilled make chills run down my spine.

Maker, please just spare me tonight.