Chills shot down Elissa's spine. Snow was pounding down on them mercilessly, blanketing them and the entire countryside for as far as the eye could see. The wind was gusting and picking up snow that had already fallen, blowing it around in fantastical patterns and shapes.

Had she not been freezing, Elissa might've thought it was beautiful.

"I do not understand how you Fereldans put up with this," Leliana muttered.

Elissa didn't reply in favor of wrapping her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Thankfully, she wasn't wearing an entire suit of armor like Aedan, Alistair, or Sten, but she wasn't wrapped up in leathers like Leliana or Zevran, either. Even Morrigan and Wynne were wearing simple clothes, and those had to be warmer than the chainmail Elissa wore.

She had a thin shirt on underneath the chain, followed by another thin shirt to keep the wind out, and then pants, boots, and her gloves. She had never really worn much of any armor, preferring her range of motion to being a walking battering ram, and it worked for her in some scenarios. Sure, there were other women who were much stronger than she by following the battering ram technique, but Elissa would always be faster.

It suited her, anyway. When they were young, their father had been more than happy to help his children find their strong points in battle. Fergus had been strong, very, very strong. Elissa had never wanted to attempt sparring with him; she knew he'd win, every time.

Aedan had been analytical. He could predict every attack, every block, before it came, far before he should've had the skill to do so. He wasn't as big as Fergus, but watching the two of them fight never disappointed. It was anyone's guess who would win, they were so evenly matched.

And Elissa? She'd just been too quick to hit. She excelled at taking blows and repositioning, or just avoiding them altogether, and her new friend seemed to only make her better at it.

The wind ripped under her cloak, knocking the fabric from her grip, and she staggered.

Wait.

As she straightened, Elissa recognized something. The way Leliana was looking at her, the concerned expression. Alistair and Aedan only a few feet away, still marching along. Their exact posture was identical. She'd seen it before. She'd been here before.

Elissa had forgotten about it completely. It had been so long, so many months ago, and just now it was happening.

This had been her dream all those months ago when she'd first confessed to being a mage. It wasn't perfectly identical, but it was close enough. Zevran and Wynne weren't in the dream. Sam had been at Aedan's side and not her own, but she knew this was it.

As a child, this had happened twice. It happened right before she'd used magic the first time, and right after. She had seen herself the night before, seen herself set that stupid bear on fire after it chased them, and then she'd seen herself watching their castle burn. She'd seen the two most defining points of her life, all before anyone could've ever known they'd happen.

And then Elissa had seen this, because in the dream, Aedan died.

Both times, the dreams had been flawless in portraying what would occur. There were no differences whatsoever. This one, though, Wynne and Zevran were wildcards. Sam was in a different place. Even she was, walking with Leliana instead of Sten, but then, they didn't change, did they? There was no way to alter the outcome.

She needed to know first. She needed to know she wasn't going crazy, that trauma and confusion hadn't altered her memories.

She fell back a few strides to join Wynne, who was trudging along surprisingly well with her staff.

"I have a question," Elissa whispered, leaning as closely as possible.

Wynne made a face, almost like speaking was difficult for her, and it very well might've been. The wind was blowing straight in their faces, after all. "Do you not think questions might be asked at a better time?"

"It's important," Elissa said. "Please, Wynne." The elderly mage's nod was enough, and she immediately rattled off some insane description of her problem, to which Wynne only stared.

"You'll have to slow down, Warden. I didn't understand a thing you said."

"Is it possible to dream of things that haven't happened yet?"

She frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think it's happening to me," Elissa snapped. "Why else? I've seen myself use my first spell before I even knew what magic was. I saw my family die, years before it ever happened, and now..."

Her voice caught in her throat and she looked away, inhaling deeply.

"Is it possible, Wynne?"

At the front of the party, she saw Aedan and Morrigan conversing, followed quickly by the mage leaping into the air as a raven, and dread settled in her gut. In the dream, they had been attacked by darkspawn, but she couldn't sense any now, so that was something.

"Is it possible?" Elissa demanded again, grabbing Wynne by the arm to pull her to a stop.

The woman chewed on her lip, thinking, and that feeling of dread grew as Zevran and Sten passed them.

"Perhaps, but that—"

Something in her chest tugged, that same feeling that would throw Elissa out of harm's way in a fight, but this time, it did nothing of the sort. Wynne's voice fell out of earshot, but her mouth was still moving. No sound came. Every fleck of snow was hanging in place, and it was like that feeling was pulling Elissa forward, into the storm.

That was when she realized it wasn't pulling on her, but alerting her. So faintly, Elissa could see the flash of an arrowhead as it caught a small ray of sunlight, and she pulled her shield off her back. It was barely secured on her arm when the arrow collided with it, sending painful vibrations up and down her arm.

Wynne's eyes met hers. In those grey eyes, Elissa could see confusion, fear, and what looked like curiosity.

This hadn't happened in the dream. Sten had saved her from a hurlock, not—

A man bellowed at the top of his lungs as he charged at her, but she wasn't prepared. The next thing she knew, she'd been knocked to the ground, and Sten was there, ripping his greatsword through the man's chest.

Not too far from where they were, a horn screamed its call to action. Red blood was dripping from Sten's sword, not black, and weirdly enough, Elissa found that comforting. Another detail that was wrong. She remembered staring at that blade as the blood dripped off it. It had been a hurlock's, not a man's, and if the dream was wrong about that, it could be wrong about Aedan dying.

The numbness in her legs wasn't a shock when she scrambled upright. She was freezing.

"Aedan!"

Around her, the sounds of people fighting erupted. Spells and arrows shot around her, illuminating strange shapes in the storm.

"Elissa!"

He sounded so far away.

She found herself running as carelessly as she had dreamt, and she called out to him again.

The panic was there. She could feel it building in her chest, feel that same stirring as the spirit possessing her awoke. She had to get herself under control, but she couldn't. Aedan was in danger. She had to find him. She had to protect him. If she lost Aedan, Elissa didn't know what she'd do.

She yelled his name again, but got no answer. People were fighting, screaming as they died.

She could feel it. That thing was fighting for control, and in her fear, Elissa couldn't hold it off. It was winning, slowly but surely, and she stumbled, falling to the snow as it ripped its way free.

One of their attackers came from the storm, clad in fine armor, and didn't skip a beat. He brought his sword around in a flash, but she—it—was faster. Elissa was standing, watching, as she absolutely destroyed that soldier. It all happened so quickly she couldn't even comprehend it.

With a simple flick of her wrist, the spirit sent the air around them rushing out at every angle. There was such force behind it, Elissa could see enemies and friends getting knocked off their feet as the snow cleared. It was similar to the spell Wynne had cast when they were fighting the dragon, but it didn't stop the storm from raging. It just slowed the snowfall in a small bubble, allowing her to see every single person in a ten yard radius.

She was the only one standing.

Several men and women she didn't recognize were struggling to their feet, saying things to each other in a language she barely understood to be Orlesian.

Elissa couldn't bring herself to watch as the spirit dragged her around to slaughter these poor people. Killing hadn't bothered her as it did Aedan, but this...this was unfair. They had no chance. The spirit cut through them like a knife through butter. Not once did any of them come close to laying a finger on Elissa's body, and she was forced to watch as she tore through the fighting.

It was so brutal. She could vaguely taste the blood in her mouth, but when she pushed at the spirit, it shoved, forcing her back. It was not happy.

An arrow struck Elissa's shoulder. No, a crossbow bolt. She could feel the rage building up inside of her, inside of that monster, and she prayed for whatever idiot had shot at it.

Without breaking stride, it reached up and tore the bolt out of her flesh. Her hand glowed as the thing healed its own wound, and then it sought out its newest target—a man standing not too far from her, hurriedly rushing to reload his crossbow.

Frost licked over Elissa's fingertips as the spirit threw her sword to the ground. Cold mist fell as it readied its spell, and she just watched in sickened awe as a spike of ice shot from her hand into his stomach.

She scooped up her sword and stalked over to him. Blood was staining the snow, staining her boots, her sword, everything. There was so much red, Elissa wasn't entirely sure that just wasn't how the spirit saw things. The poor man was coughing up more of the stuff, holding the hole in his gut like it would somehow save him.

"Wait!"

A hand locked around Elissa's arm, tried and failed to pull the sword down, and the spirit lashed out, knocking the person off without a moment's hesitation. Elissa couldn't see clearly anymore; it was trying to prevent her from watching. It wanted complete control, and it knew it had it.

"What are you doing?!"

A sword collided with Elissa's. She recognized it. It was Aedan's. Why was he...?

It had been Leliana. The thing tried to kill her.

Her stomach twisted into knots and disgust and fear roiled through her, and the next thing she knew, it was her falling back to the ground, and not the spirit.

Elissa threw her sword as far away from herself as possible, but she knew that wouldn't do anything to protect anyone if it came back. She understood now. She knew she couldn't control it. It would do what it wanted, regardless of Elissa's feelings.

Aedan helped Leliana to her feet, sword still pointed at Elissa's chest.

She was the monster. She was the threat now, not these men who had ambushed them, not the darkspawn she'd dreamt of. It was her. The dream hadn't been trying to warn her about anything but herself.

"I-I'm sorry," Elissa stammered. "I didn't...I wasn't..."

"You idiot!" Morrigan snarled. The witch was marching over to them. Her hair was disheveled, bangs falling loose of the bun she typically kept it in, and there was a cut on her chin that was new. "Did my warnings mean nothing to you?"

"I couldn't—"

"You could've killed all of us!"

Elissa unstrapped her shield as she stood, now furious more than anything else. Furious that she'd not protected herself better, furious that Morrigan was yelling at her, furious at everything.

"I tried to stop it!" Elissa retorted. "I couldn't!"

"If you would listen to me, you wouldn't have failed."

Elissa threw her hands up. "I do! I haven't done anything wrong—"

"You have," Morrigan hissed. Her eyes flicked to Aedan and Leliana, and she said, "You are quite lucky our Warden decided to intervene when she did, or you'd both be dead."

"It's not that easy," Elissa snapped. "It's not something I can turn off and on."

"What are you talking about?" Aedan demanded.

Elissa clenched her jaw, bit her tongue, and Morrigan crossed her arms. "I have kept your secret, Warden, but no longer. Either you tell them, or I will."

She looked away, swallowed deeply. She couldn't. She couldn't tell them. If she did, they'd leave her here, or kill her, or worse, look at her like she was a wounded animal. She didn't want anyone's pity.

"Tell them," Morrigan repeated.

Elissa squeezed her eyes shut. She took a deep breath, but it caught in her throat.

"I'm possessed."

Silence hung in the air for several minutes. Even the storm, outside the bubble the spirit had created, seemed to rage quieter. Elissa was acutely aware of every breath Aedan took, every breath Leliana took, every breath Morrigan took. Everyone's eyes were on her. She wasn't sure what was worse—the looks she was getting, or the silence.

"W-what do you mean?" Alistair asked.

"Exactly what it sounds like," she snapped angrily. "I'm possessed. What about that is hard to understand?"

"If you were—"

"Not by a demon," Morrigan interrupted. "Of that much, we are lucky."

Elissa allowed her eyes to meet Aedan's, but she couldn't look at Leliana. She'd struck her, hadn't she? The spirit, not her, but it was probably enough to turn whatever friendship they'd had sour. Elissa wouldn't blame her.

"Then by what?" Aedan asked.

"A spirit of some sort," Wynne suggested. "It's not common, but it does happen. Oftentimes, it would be a weaker spirit, one of compassion or justice, but..."

"Such spirits would not put on quite the display," Morrigan finished. "There was nothing compassionate or honorable about what happened here."

"So you're an abomination," Aedan surmised, looking right back at Elissa. "Like at the tower?"

She swallowed again, and then said, "I don't remember the tower. That...wasn't me." His eyebrows creased together. "It was the thing inside of me."

"How long?" he asked quietly.

"Not very, most likely," Wynne said. "It's rare enough weaker spirits get drawn across the Veil, and even rarer stronger ones get pulled across, much less take an interest in a mortal." The mage regarded Elissa for several long seconds. "I wonder what it could be that drew it to you."

Elissa made a face, and then retrieved her sword. All of their eyes were on her as she shoved the weapon into its sheath. "Do you still think I'm babbling nonsense, Wynne, or can we talk about my previous question now?"

"What question?" Aedan asked.

While Elissa returned her shield to her back, she said, "Do you remember the last time I had one of those dreams, Aedan? The one that I said you died in?" He nodded, so she continued. "This was where it happened, except it was darkspawn, and not men, and I was the one that did it. Before we were ambushed, I asked Wynne if it was possible to see the future, and she said it was."

"I said it could be," Wynne interrupted. "I've never heard of such magic, but I'm sure someone has somewhere."

Morrigan's eyes narrowed. "When we were in the Fade, you were the only one of us that was not present. Where were you?"

"I was in the Fade," Elissa said. "I was with...the spirit."

"But do you remember how you got there?" Morrigan urged. She didn't sound angry now, but rather excited, and extremely curious.

"No. I can't even remember what really happened in the Fade."

"When you dream, do demons call out to you?"

Elissa frowned. "Are they supposed to?"

"How do you think mages succumb to possession?" Wynne asked.

"Do you remember a time that they ever spoke to you?" Morrigan pressed. "You would've heard voices, asleep or awake. They would ask you to help them across the Veil."

Elissa swallowed nervously, and asked, "What are you implying?"

"I know how you got the attention of a spirit," Morrigan said. "Whether or not you are aware of it, when you entered the Fade at the Circle, you entered it in a way none of us would ever be capable of. I suspect your spirit drew you there to protect you, and when it sensed us escaping from the sloth demon, it returned you."

Wynne interjected with, "A dreamer?"

"Somniari," Morrigan corrected. "They are said to be powerful mages, and such power could attract spirits of faith and hope."

"What the hell is a dreamer?" Aedan demanded.

Elissa's brain was hurting. Everything she'd ever wanted to keep secret from her brother, from Leliana, from all of them, was out. All of her secrets, all of her struggles, they were laid bare for them to see, and it made her sick.

"They are capable of entering the Fade without lyrium or blood magic," Wynne explained. "It's even rarer than seeing benevolent spirits on this side of the Veil. I've only read of dreamers in scrolls and stories. I did not think they were real."

"Of course not. The Circle is—"

"Enough," Aedan said. "There's no reason to argue." His eyes turned to Elissa, who had been quiet despite the fact that they were talking about her. "Does that sound possible to you, sister?"

She shrugged meekly. "I don't know what I am."

He started to say something else, but she heard the familiar crunch of snow as someone tried to sneak away. She spun on her heel immediately, eyes locking on one of the mercenaries as he tried to crawl away.

She could feel her anger boiling over, but Elissa swallowed it as Sten caught the man. He lifted him up by the back of his chestplate, and despite his struggling, Sten dropped him in the center of their clearing.

How Elissa was still holding the snow at bay, she didn't know, but she was grateful for this man's distraction.

He muttered something in Orlesian, and being the only person here to speak the language, Leliana kneeled in front of him to demand answers. Their conversation was brief, but it was obvious the man was terrified.

Elissa watched as several different expressions passed over Leliana. Hurt, fear, anger, grief. All of them at once. She wanted to comfort her, ask what was wrong, but before she could even try, Leliana had her sword free, and she slit the man's throat.

Elissa had never seen Leliana use the thing, but now, it was obvious she knew how to.

"What did you do that for?" Aedan demanded.

Leliana was shaking, staring at the man's corpse as he choked on his blood until he fell silent.

"Leliana?"

Very deliberately, the woman wiped her sword off on the man's pants, and then stood back up. Elissa could see tears in her eyes, but also, a cold venom that even unnerved her.

"They were sent to kill me."