They walked down the ruins carefully before they noticed a ghostly child wandering the corridors looking frightened and scared.

"Mamae? Mamae na mara san..."

Theron cautiously approached the ghostly form of the child as He tried speaking to it in elvish.

"Mamae! Mamae! Mamae!" The figure's face looked at Theron in horror before running away. "Mamae! Mamae, se vara sal!"

"He's looking for his mother." Elissa noted.

"Thanks for stating the obvious." Daylen said dryly.

"I can't find you." Theron finished. He shook its head. "This place is definitely human made, but there are elven artefacts here."

"How is this possible?" Kallian wondered.

Theron considered. "Perhaps this place used to be a refuge for the elves before the Imperium had full control over the land."

"Humans and elves?" Morrigan asked, surprised

"The only time those two races have joined forces was during Andraste's uprising." Elissa noted.

Theron nodded. "Exactly, maybe there's more history inside this ruin."

"We can sort this out later, right now we need to find the werewolves." Sereda looked around.


Daylen was about to leave the room when something caught his eye. An elaborately carved gemstone lay partially concealed by the dusty remnants of an old tome. He bent, and took a closer look. Inside appeared to be a pool of blood, rippling slowly as the gem vibrated. He reached down to pick it up.

Memories seemed to flood into him. He saw a city rising amidst a forest, delicately spiraling upwards until the tops of both tree and tower disappeared into the very clouds. An army was on the march, dressed in armor of burnished coppery metal. A griffin took wing from the balcony on one of the towers. And then the memory seemed to recoil from him in fear. New images flooded his mind, imprisonment. Loneliness. An emptiness more profound than when he'd woken without the rage. Who are you? What are you? He directed his thoughts at the presence.

There was a sense of bewilderment, and then a trembling sort of hope as it seemed to reach back out towards him. Real. Another sensation, time, rushing through his mind like a dragon. Time in which to go mad, then sane, then mad again, sleeping between. A mage, in glittering silver armor, seen through the fog of a span of time too great for him to fully comprehend. What is this place? What happened here?

Images slowly formed in response to the question. Serenity. Immortal elves in endless sleep, tribute offered to the gods. Violence. War. Memories jumbled together. He thought a few of them might be his own. War with humans?

Humans had come before. They had built these halls. War. Other humans. More war. The elves and humans who had built the halls laying slaughtered in the ruins. How did you end up in this gem?

Elves and humans screaming, attempting to flee. Terror. Terror of something blurred and lost to the ages. Or perhaps terror of something he simply lacked the foundation to comprehend. Fleeing into the life gem, leaving the body behind. Certainty that someone would come. Rescue. A river of time. A sense of himself touching the gem. Now. You were once a mage?

Images of the elf in silver armor. Mage and warrior. Dirth'ena enaslin. Knowledge that led to victory. Arcane warrior. What is an arcane warrior exactly?

Elven mages, channeling spells into strength. Spell in one hand, sword in the other. An offer. Knowledge. Teach. An offer, a plea. Oblivion. How would I give you the release you seek?

Uncertainty. A stone altar. The gem laid upon the altar. The gem vibrating and exploding. A yearning for death, keener than any blade. Hopeless. Hope. Hopeless. Hope. Please. Yes, I will try to help you.

Desperation. Searching. Trying to remember where to find the altar. Can't remember. So long ago. Walls new, white and clean. A library. Students gathered around a teacher. The teacher standing behind the altar. I see it.

Emotion. Tremulous hope. The teacher an elf in silver armor. The student an elf in splint mail, eyes turning yellow. A question. Yes, give me your memories.

Knowledge. A flood of images, lessons. Sword in hand, sparing, back and forth. Spells. Overwhelming, sweet pain. Falling into bed after a satisfying bout. Promise. Release. Farewell.

He set the artefact on the stone altar.

Joy. Relief. Oblivion.

He shook his head and blinked. A glance over his shoulder saw Sereda talking to about which direction to go. He looked down at the broken gem laying on the altar. Only seconds had passed, and nobody seemed to have noticed.

He glanced back at Sereda. Maybe he wouldn't mention it to her. She was worried enough already.


Kallian watched in rapt fascination as Theron went through the motions of the ritual. She opened her mouth to ask a question, and felt Elissa hand cover it. She sighed.

He took the jug of water over to the altar. She opened her mouth to ask a question, and Alistair's hand caught her chin and firmly closed it again. She sighed.

Theron knelt, bowing his head in prayer. He picked up the jug, and took a sip of water. Theron knelt back at the fountain, and slowly poured the water back into the pool.

The earthen jug shattered. Slowly, the huge metal door swung open. Alistair and Elissa stood up to re-join the others. Kallian crossed her arms and pouted for a moment before following.


"Viran se lan'aan? Ir annala for ros..." The spirit flowed from one side of the hall to the other. "Nae! Ga rahn s'dael! Ga rahn!"

"Mana. Ir halani." Theron called out to it.

"Ir emah'la shal! Ir emah'la shal!" The shade wailed, then attacked. Theron defended himself, knocking it away with his sword. It screamed again, before dissolving into smoke.

Kallian looked around, looking disturbed. "Alright. Clearly, speaking to these ghosts is a bad idea."

"What did it say?" Sereda asked.

Theron shook his head. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. This was very ancient dialect I had rarely heard." He seemed to consider what happened. "But if I had to guess, I'd say it asked us how we found this place, that it had been lost for centuries. And then it accused us of..." He sighed as Kallian pushed aside the lid of the sarcophagus to look inside. "Desecrating its grave. What are you doing?"

Kallian shrugged. "Looking. Who buries their dead under a tree?"

Theron glared at her as he closed the sarcophagus. "The Dalish elves."

"Oh."

"Theron?" Alistair called out. "You might want to look at this."

Theron gave Daylen a look, and then walked over to where Alistair was standing. A set of elven armor stood on a rack. It was metal, but it looked almost as though it had been… grown. It actually smelled of fresh grass. He caressed it, and it felt warm to his touch. Alistair grinned at him. "Looks made for you."

"Could do a bit of work, but yes." Theron nodded as he put the armor into his pack.


"Does anyone else smell..." Daylen started to say.

The dragon landed on the platform in front of them. She spread her wings and hissed before sending a swath of fire their way. They dodged in various directions.

"Dragon shit." Sereda asked. She and Alistair began moving towards the dragon, shields ready, keeping it focused on them as the others started to circle behind. Theron moved behind them, firing arrows.

Kallian started to move in, and the dragon leapt away. It opened its mouth to breath fire at her, but Kallian barely managed to dodge and slid underneath the dragon as she sliced its gut.

"Dragons?" Alistair looked surprised.

"Could be worse." Theron shrugged.


They continued to move down the ruins before Theron barely dodged the two incoming arrows as he fell down. Alistair lifted his shield to block more incoming arrows as Morrigan and Daylen threw a fireball at the undead archers that had emerged from a nearby corridor, burning them into ashes. From another room went out more reanimated corpses as Elissa and Alistair engaged them, while Daylen and Morrigan aided with their magic before they healed Elissa.

"Thank you." Elissa breathed out as the mages healed her wounds.

"Uh-oh…" Kallian muttered as they heard growling echoing before more werewolves showed up.

"What?" Theron asked, and then took a step backwards at the sight. "By the Dread Wolf..."

"Interesting choice of words." Kallian muttered.

In front of them were several werewolves and they looked thirsty for blood. Sereda noticed that they were shifting their gaze mostly upon Theron as if he was a bag of meat.

The werewolves moved towards them. Kallian drew her blades, while Daylen readied his staff as he threw a fireball which caused them to attack as a pack.

Theron pulled out his bow and fired several arrows, shooting down two of the werewolves, while Sereda and Alistair knocked back the beasts with their shields and Kallian and Elissa flanked them as Daylen and Morrigan aided with their elemental.

"They just keep coming." Sereda said.

"Then we must be getting close." Theron noted.


As they entered another room, they faced a giant werewolf on a platform in the center of the chamber, surrounded by his pack but the giant werewolf gestured for them to stop as they stopped growling. "Stop! Brothers and sisters, be at ease! We do not wish any more of our people hurt. I ask you this now, outsider: are you willing to parley?"

"Like you parleyed with the Dalish?" Theron sneered, furious.

"Hrrr, that was different." The giant grey werewolf lowered his head, and held out his hands. "The Lady believes that the Dalish have not told you everything, so she has asked that you be brought to her. She means you no harm, provided your willingness to parley in peace is an honest one."

Sereda could see the fury in in Theron's eyes and walked up to him. "This may be our only chance to find out what's going on." She whispered.

Reluctantly, Theron nodded. "Then take us to this Lady."

The werewolf nodded slowly. "Follow me. But I warn you, if you break your promise and harm her, I will come back from the Fade itself to see you pay."

Sereda glanced at the others. Their faces were as confused as hers as they sheathed their weapons and followed the werewolf into the deep heart of the ruins.


As they went into a chamber deep below surface, they saw a pack of werewolves surrounding a woman, whose skin was pale green, her body naked, with vines wrapped around what seemed to be her feet and arms, forming into hands. Her hair flowed down her shoulders like spilled ink, covering her breasts.

Daylen could sense something ancient and powerful around her. It was like that she was the forest itself, but it felt as if she was trapped, shackled against her will.

"I bid you welcome, mortal. I am the Lady of the Forest." The Lady's voice was hauntingly beautiful as it echoed through the chamber, sweet as the mother Daylen could barely remember.

"Really?" Theron snorted, glaring and crossing his arms. "You seem more like the Lady of the Ruin to me."

Swiftrunner growled, about to lunge at him. "You will not speak to the Lady in this manner!"

The woman raised her hand to stop him. "Hush, Swiftrunner. Your urge for battle has seen only the death of the very ones you have been trying to save. Is that what you want?"

The brown werewolf knelt before her, a gesture of respect and adoration. "No, my lady. Anything but that."

"Then the time has come to speak with this outsider, to set our rage aside. I apologize on Swiftrunner's behalf. He struggles with his nature."

"As do we all, Lady." Faren nodded.

"Truer words were never spoken. But few could claim the same as these creatures: that their very nature is a curse forced upon them. No doubt you have questions, mortal. There are things that Zathrian has not told you." The lady smiled, nearing them.

Theron blinked, surprised. "How do you know what he has or has not told me?"

The lady narrowed her eyes, anger flashing in them. "Because there are things that he would not tell. Things that you should decide for yourself whether you need to know." They could see the pain in her eyes. "It was Zathrian who created the curse that these creatures suffer, the same curse that Zathrian's own people now suffer."

Daylen could see the surprise in Theron's eyes. There were no lies within the lady's voice and as far as they knew, she had no reason to lie to them.

The woman continued speaking. "Centuries ago, when the Dalish first came to this land, a tribe of humans lived close this forest. They sought to drive the Dalish away. Zathrian was a young man then." Sereda shot Theron a look. He met her eyes and shook his head, clearly confused. "He had a son and daughter he loved greatly, and while out hunting the human tribe captured them both."

"Hrrr..." Swiftrunner's voice sounded pained and reluctant. "The humans… tortured the boy, killed him. The girl they raped and left for dead. The Dalish found her, but she learned later she was… with child. She… killed herself."

"So Zathrian cursed them, I take it?" Elissa asked.

Swiftrunner looked at her, then nodded slowly as he stepped up. "Zathrian came to this ruin and summoned a terrible spirit, binding it to the body of a great wolf. So Witherfang came to be. Witherfang hunted the humans of the tribe. Many were killed, but others were cursed by his blood, becoming twisted and savage creatures..."

The lady spoke up again. "Twisted and savage just as Witherfang himself is. They were driven into the forest. When the human tribe finally left for good, their cursed brethren remained, pitiful and mindless animals."

Swiftrunner turned to her and bowed humbly. "Until I found you, my lady. You gave me peace."

The lady touched his head in a loving, motherly gesture. "I showed Swiftrunner that there was another side to his bestial nature. I soothed his rage, and his humanity emerged. And he brought others to me."

Theron was unsure what to think. He needed to understand. "Why did you ambush the Dalish? For revenge?"

"In part." The lady nodded as they noticed the anger in her tone. "We seek to end the curse. The crimes committed against Zathrian's children were grave, but they were committed centuries ago by those who are long dead." She shook her head. "Word was sent to Zathrian every time the landships passed this way, asking him to come, but he has always ignored us." She narrowed her eyes. "We will no longer be denied."

Swiftrunner growled like an animal ready to pounce at its prey. "We spread the curse to his people! So he must end the curse to save them!"

The lady looked at them imploringly, putting her hands together in a begging gesture. "Please, mortal… you must go to him. Bring him here. If he sees these creatures, hears their plight… surely he will agree to end the curse."

"Why would Zathrian agree to come here alone?" Sereda questioned.

"If Zathrian comes, I shall summon Witherfang. I possess that power. I also have the power to ensure Witherfang is never found. Tell Zathrian this. If he does not come, if he does not break the curse, he will never find Witherfang, and he will never cure his people."

Sereda looked at Kallian and knew she had been fighting of the disease for some time now. Her skin was pale and she was fidgeting. It was remarkable that she did get this far, but she wouldn't be able to last much longer and the only way to make sure she survived was to bring Zathrian here.

Sereda sighed. "You don't leave us much choice, but we will do as you ask."

The lady nodded and then wandered over to a door. "Outside of this chamber, the passage leading back to the service has been opened for you. Return with Zathrian as soon as you can."

As they left, Daylen leaned into whisper in Sereda's ear. "She's Witherfang."

Sereda nodded. She suspected as much. "Be careful."

"I don't like them but if what they say is true, we can't trust Zathrian." Kallian said, clutching her arm.

They noticed that Theron was very quiet, trying to look strong but it was obvious to them that he was conflicted. On one hand, he wanted to save the clan but on the other hamd. he couldn't let Zathrian get away with what he had done. This rescue mission became a lot more complicated than they had expected.


They returned to where they had entered the ruins as they saw the Keeper at the entrance. Elissa slowly reached for her sword as they narrowed their eyes at Zathrian. Either he had been following them or he had known the whole time where exactly to find them. Sereda and Theron looked like they were about to blow the top as they saw pure fury on their faces.

"Ah. And here you are already." Zathrian noted as he noticed them.

"Why am I not surprised to see you here?" Sereda asked, walking towards him.

Zathrian narrowed his eyes. "Did you? Aren't you the intuitive one."

"How did you get here?" Theron asked. "Wouldn't the forest keep you out?"

Zathrian smiled, amused. "I am a keeper, with access to the magic of the ancients. I was never barred from this place."

Morrigan chuckled. "He wishes to see if we did his work for him. Is that not why you are here now, sorcerer?"

"Do not call me that, witch." Zathrian glared at her. "I am keeper of this clan, and have done what I must. Did you acquire the heart?"

"We need to talk, Hahren." Theron said, although he couldn't leave the anger from the title.

"So you wish to play games, da'len?" Zathrian shook his head. "I can sense you do not have it. Why are you leaving the ruin?"

"To fetch you, and bring you back to the Lady of the Forest." Sereda said.

"Oh? Is that what the spirit calls herself now?"

"You knew?" Theron's eyes widened. "You knew?!" He started to step forward, and Alistair grabbed his shoulder. He shouted something in elvish at Zathrian, pointing accusingly, while Zathrian raised his hands, trying to calm him down, as he spoke in the same language but Theron kept on yelling and glaring.

"What are they saying?" Alistair asked, turning to Kallian.

Kallian gave him an angry scowl. "I grew up in Denerim, I don't know elvish!" She snapped.

"Not that I wouldn't love to see Theron teach him a lesson but the Lady wants you to come to her." Sereda said.

Zathrian scowled. "And what does she want with me, if I might inquire?"

"What do you think she wants?" Theron sneered.

Zathrian shrugged, and eyed Theron with disgust. "To survive, I suspect. That is the common nature amongst all such creatures, the will do survive." He shook his head. "You do understand that..."

"…she is Witherfang?" Theron narrowed his eyes. "I thought as much." He said somewhat bitterly.

"She is the powerful spirit of this ancient forest that I summoned long ago and bound into the body of the wolf." Zathrian shook his head. "Her nature is that of the forest itself. Beautiful and terrible, serene and savage, maiden and beast. She is the Lady and Witherfang both, two sides of a single being. The curse came first from her. Those she afflicted with it mirrored her own nature, becoming savage beast as well as human."

"The curse came first from you." Theron growled.

Zathrian clenched his fists and actually took a step towards Theron. "They attacked my clan and they were the same savages that they have ever been. They deserve to be wiped out and not defended." He took a breath as his face softened. "Come, I will accompany you back into the ruin, da'len and I will force the spirit into Witherfang's form. He may then be slain and the heart taken. Help me save our people."

"But the werewolves have regained their minds." Theron shook his head.

Zathrian's brows arched in an angry scowl. "Even so, they are still the same worthless creatures that their ancestors were. They deserve nothing more than the misery they possess. This is not your battle, Grey Warden. Let us just take the heart and be done with it."

"No." Theron shook his head. "I won't help you kill them. I'm making this my fight."

Elissa found herself filled with a new respect for him. If she understood Dalish culture at all, then Theron just more or less threatened a grand cleric of the Dalish clan.

"If you do not help me get the heart, then my hunters are not cured and you will get no assistance against the darkspawn." Zathrian said.

Theron just stared at him in disbelief. "Do you still have so much hatred after all this time?"

Zathrian clenched his fists. "You were not there. You did not see what…" He lowered his head, remembering before looking into Theron's eyes as he could see him reliving the pain. "…what they did to my son. To my daughter. And so many others." He glared. "You of all people should understand. You lost your parents to bandits! How can you defend these beasts? You know how we must struggle to be safe, how we must fight for justice. I could not let their crimes go unanswered!"

Theron closed his eyes. "Yes I do, but that's no excuse of tormenting them now. You did suffer injustice, but these werewolves had nothing to do with it all those involved are long dead. And right now who's suffering the most?"

Zathrian's face was furious. "Very well. You wish me go and talk? I will do so. But what if it is only more revenge they wish? Will you safeguard me from harm?"

Theron nodded. "I will protect you from them."

"Ma serannas." Zathrian said sarcastically.


The werewolves shifted and growled as they walked back into the chamber with Zathrian. Elissa resisted the urge to reach for her sword, not wanting to provoke any hostilities.

"So here you are, spirit." Zathrian sneered.

Swiftrunner snarled, lunging as he landed inches away from the Keeper. "She is the Lady of the Forest! You will address her properly!" The werewolf about to rip Zathrian apart before Theron stepped in between them.

"You've taken a name, spirit?" Zathrian asked mockingly. "And you've given names to your pets? These..." He gestured around. "…beasts who follow you?"

Elissa glared. There was so much willpower she had in her to restrain her from cutting his tonge out.

The lady's voice was calm, yet clearly angry. "It was they who gave me a name, Zathrian. And the names they take are their own. They follow me because I help them to find who they are."

Zathrian shook his head. "Who they are has not changed from whom their ancestors were. Wild savages! Worthless dogs! Their twisted shape only mirrors their monstrous hearts!"

Swiftrunner glanced at Theron before turning back to the lady. "He will not help us, Lady! It is as I warned you! He is not here to talk!"

Zathrian glared. "No, I am here to talk, though I see little point in it. We all know where this will lead. Your nature compels it, as does mine."

The lady stepped towards him. "It does not have to be that way. There is room in your heart for compassion, Zathrian. Surely your retribution is spent."

"My retribution is eternal, spirit, as is my pain. This is justice, no more."

"Are you certain your pain is the only reason you will not end this curse? Have you told the mortals how it was created?"

"He said he summoned you and bound you to a wolf." Sereda said.

"And so he did." The lady confirmed. "Witherfang and I are bound as one being. But such powerful magic could not be accomplished without Zathrian's own blood." She turned to Zathrian. "Your people believe you have rediscovered the immortality of their ancestors, Zathrian, but that is not true. So long as the curse exists, so do you."

Zathrian shook his head. "No, that is not how it is!"

Theron then turned furiously upon Zathrian. "You would betray our people for revenge?"

Elissa had found Theron calm and collective and he didn't seem like someone, who would be hotheaded and tempered but for the first time in the short time she had met Theron, she could see the pure anger and hate in the Dalish elf's eyes.

Zathrian glared at Theron, no hint of regret in his eyes, only vindication. "It is not a betrayal. I did what was necessary. I did what was just, and it still is!"

"The curse would not end with Zathrian's death." The Lady said, lifting a hand to stop any fight. "His life, however, relies on its existence. And I believe his death plays a part in its ending."

Swiftrunner snarled. "Then we kill him! We tear him apart now." He started to push forward, and Theron used the hilt of his sword to shove him backwards.

"For all your powers of speech, you are beasts still." Zathrian spat. "What would you gain from me? Only I know how the ritual ends, and I will never do it."

Swiftrunner turned and gestured. "You see? We must kill them all."

Next to Sereda, Alistair shifted nervously. She caught his glance. If it came to battle, whose side, exactly would they be on?

Zathrian apparently had thoughts along the same lines. He turned to Sereda. "See? They turn on you as quickly. Do what you have come her to do, Grey Warden, or get out of my way."

Elissa glared at him in disgust. "As if you were going to promote peace."

"Besides, can you blame them? You give no regards towards them!" Kallian added hotly.

Theron reached for his blades. "You will end that curse if I have to force you myself!"

"We're standing for what's right, here. No matter what." Alistair said, picking his shield and sword.

"Then you die with them! All of you will suffer as you deserve!" Zathrian raised his staff before, much to everyone's shock, Theron grabbed the Keeper's staff and knocked him down on the ground.


Leliana gestured at the tracks as she and Faren kept running down the tunne;s. "This way."

"Leliana, you sure?" Faren asked.

"Theron left trail signs for us." She said.

"Clever boy." Faren noted.


"I said I'd protect you from them." Theron growled as he kept beating Zathrian until his face was bloodied, not letting him reach for his staff or summon any spells. "No one here will protect you from me."

Zathrian breathed out as he raised in surrender. "No more. I… cannot… cannot… defeat you..."

Swiftrunner growled behind him. "Finish it! Kill him now!"

"No, Swiftrunner. We will not kill him." Theron felt the Lady's hand on his shoulder. Her voice was gentle. "If there is no room in our hearts for mercy, how may we expect there to be room in his?"

Theron pulled away and let go as Zathrian shook his head and got up on his feet, tears filling his eyes. "I cannot do as you ask, spirit. I am too old… to know mercy. All I see are the faces of my children, my people. I… I cannot do it."

Theron looked at Zathrian with a fixed expression. "Zathrian, haven't you learned from our stories that hatred leads only to more hatred? I've been with humans long enough to know that anger and hatred only ends with a non-ending cycle of violence. Your hatred has ended up hurting those you swore to protect. Is that really what you want? Don't you see what you have become?"

Elissa looked at him and could not help but agree with his words. At first she wanted nothing more than to punish the Howe's family with what they had done to her family, but then she would be no better than Howe himself. She still wanted Howe dead, but looking back, she didn't want to cause any more harm to his family.

Zathrian looked at Theron, considering. "Perhaps I have… lived too long. This hatred in me is like an ancient, gnarled root… It has consumed my soul." He leaned onto his staff to stay on his feet as he turned to the spirit. "What of you, spirit? You are bound to the curse just as I am. Do you not fear your end?"

"You are my maker, Zathrian. You gave me form and consciousness where none existed. I have known pain and love, hope and fear, all the joy that is life. Yet of all things I desire no more than an end. I beg you, maker… put an end to me." She knelt. "We beg you… show mercy." Around them, the werewolves began to kneel as well.

Zathrian pushed Theron away, and fell to his own knees in front of the Lady. "You shame me, spirit. I am… an old man, alive long past his time."

"Then you will do it? You will end the curse?"

"Yes. I think it is time. Let us… put an end to it all." He inhaled, then looked at Theron. "Before I do this, I should tell you that your father knew what I did and tried to convince me to undo the curse, he foresaw that my clan would suffer if I did not do it and like a fool I ignored him. Your father would be so proud of you."

Elissa could see it here tricking down Theron's cheek. She could barely imagine what he went through not having the warmth of a mother's touch or the guidance of his father. She watched as Zathrian made his way to the altar.


Sereda and the others gathered to watch. The faces of Morrigan and Daylen were enraptured, it wasn't every day that you would see magic like this.

Alistair had his arms around Elissa, and Sereda saw tears falling down the young woman's cheeks.

Both the Lady of the Forest and Zathrian vanished in the emerald light. It seemed to spread out, blinding. When she managed to blink her eyes clear, men stood where there had once been werewolves.

"It's… over." The man that stood where Swiftrunner had been sounded almost ready to burst into tears. "She's gone, and… we're human. I can scarcely believe it."

"What will you do now?" Theron asked him.

"We will leave the forest, I suppose. Find other humans, see what's out there for us. It should be quite interesting, don't you think?" He kept looking down at his hands, turning them forward and backward.

"Head north. Or west, to Redcliffe. Perhaps we will meet again one day."

Swiftrunner nodded. Then he shook his head. "I never got your name."

"Theron."

He looked up at Theron. "Thank you. We… we'll never forget you." The former werewolves left the chamber.

Sereda turned to look at Kallian. "You all right?" Sereda asked.

"Apart from a strange urge to have rare steak, I'm fine." Kallian said.

"Then I suppose it's time we headed over to the surface." Theron said.


Faren started into the ruins, his weapon out and ready, when he saw humans start streaming out and leaving. He blinked, then glanced back at the others.

A moment later he saw their companions. They looked… tired and clearly had been through a fight. Kallian looked utterly exhausted and the wounds are arm indicated that clawed her. "Oh, are you coming to rescue us?"

"Unless we're a bit too late?" Faren joked.

Sereda nodded. "Any trouble back at camp?"

"No. But the keeper fellow took off. I think he's up to some..."

"He's dead." Sereda sighed. "Let's go see if it worked for the Dalish."

"He's what..." He blinked.

Sereda placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll tell you on the way."


"It is done." Lanaya said as they entered the camp. Her eyes were red, as though she were fighting back tears. "The essence of the wolf's heart has banished all traces of cursed blood from the hunters." Her voice was strong but sad. "It is too bad that Zathrian had to die. I..." She swallowed. "I felt it, when he departed. I think he was ready to go."

Theron dropped his voice low so as not to be overheard. "Did you know about his connection to the curse?"

Lanaya nodded, looking troubled. "I suspected, but… Zathrian did not like to talk about that." She shook her head, and wrapped her arms around herself. "Nonetheless, the curse is over, and no one else will be subjected to it."

"He was a hero in the end, Lanaya." Theron assured.

Lanaya could barely hold back tears. "It will be difficult to fill Zathrian's shoes. He was our keeper for many centuries and he will be sorely missed." She raised her head, drew her shoulders back, and took a deep breath. "But I am keeper now. As promised, allow me to swear by the name of Mythal, She Who Watches, that we are indebted to you. Call and we shall come, with great speed and purpose, and we shall strike at your foes. This I swear."

"Ir abelas, lethallin."

"Ma serranas."

"How long before your people are ready?"

She glanced at where the hunters were. They looked better, but it was clear they were still weakened. "It will be some time. The curse leaves the hunters slowly, and they must regain their strength before they are ready to fight." She inhaled. "It has been a long time since the Dalish marched to war… but I trust that, in the end, we shall make a difference for you."

"I have no doubt. We will rest a day, and then go to Denerim. When you are ready, head to Redcliffe. Our forces gather there."


"You have returned. Is there..." Athras looked at her hopefully. "Any chance you have news of Danyla?"

"She was a werewolf, just as you suspected."

"So I was right..." He shook his head. "But what became of her?"

"She died, Athras." said Kallian. She handed the man the scarf. "But not before she sent her love."

He took the scarf, and pressed it to his lips. "She told you that? Yes… that is what she would do. Then… it is over. I should be thankful, I think. At least she is at peace now. You have been most kind, my friend." He offered Kallian something. "Here, take this amulet. I hope it is worth something to you as a reward."

Kallian closed Athras's fingers back over the amulet, and shook his head. "I am sorry, Athras." She couldn't take a reward from a man whose wife he'd killed.

Athras looked at her, and then nodded. "Oh. I… Oh. I should go and make arrangements. I must mourn my wife as is proper. Dareth shiral—fare you well."

She walked away. The keeper gestured to her as he passed her wagon. Kallian shrugged and approached. "That's a fine thing you did for Athras." she said. "He would have worried forever had you not put his mind at ease." She reached to put a hand on her shoulder, and she pulled back. She sighed. "I have a potion. It seems to be easing the suffering of the hunters."

"I'm fine."

She looked as if she wanted to say something. "Did you try to come to the Dalish?"

She laughed. She looked taken aback, almost affronted. "No. I don't run." She shook his head, and went to find his friends.


Varathorn smiled at Theron warmly. "It is good to see you again. Have you need of something?"

"I found some ironbark for you."

Varathorn's eyes widened as Theron showed him the travois they'd brought back. "Truly? Let me see. Yes… that is indeed ironbark, and a substantial quantity of it as well. Well done!" He clapped Theron on the shoulder. "An agreement is an agreement, and I will craft something from this wood for you. What would you like? A bow? Or perhaps a breastplate."

Theron raised his hands. "Neither. I'm sure your clan needs it more than I do."

Varathorn smiled at him in pride. "That is very generous of you. Ma serannas. I see you have not lost your Dalish roots in the time you have spent with the humans. I will not allow your generosity to go without at least some reward."

"As it happens, I found some armor in the ruins. It could do with a bit of repair."

"Show me."

Theron followed him back to the wagon, and took the armor out of his pack. Varathorn's eyes widened. "By the creators… I've not seen… da'len, what you've found here… this might actually have been made in Arlathan."

He blinked. "We found it in those ruins."

Varathorn caressed the breastplate. "I can repair it, but it will take me a bit of time. I can bring it with me, and have it ready when we meet in Redcliffe."

Theron considered. "How long would you like to study it?"

"I..." Varathorn looked at him, and then sighed. "Years." he answered honestly.

"I'm sure I'll be able to survive the Blight without it. Just remember me the first time you manage to duplicate it."

"June enansal, da'len."


Theron was busy talking to the craftsman, but a young couple named Cammen and Gheyna had eagerly volunteered to guide them through the woods. She was fairly confident their motives had a lot more to do with the opportunity to steal a few moments alone that it did generosity.