The air reeked of death. That smell would hang around for weeks after a battle of any capacity, but this, it was something else. It was the worst thing Elissa had ever experienced. Her eyes watered and her throat burned, and she had to pull her scarf up over her face.

What had caused the stench, though, was anyone's guess. Darkspawn, deepstalkers, more spiders, perhaps? There were dead dwarves nearby, a lot of them, and while Elissa didn't want to run into whatever killed them, she was sure they would anyway. That was how their luck had been since entering the Deep Roads. Everything that could go wrong, went wrong.

Food had run out the day before. Even her store of jerky strips was depleted, and Elissa kept that regularly stocked. Then again, the opportunity hadn't exactly been present when they were miles underground, far from any sort of civilization.

They'd been reduced to hunting nugs and the deepstalkers. Elissa saw them once, and she immediately hated the little fucks. Their teeth were sharp and their tails were strong. She didn't think they'd actually be responsible for killing anyone or anything—except for nugs—but they sure were annoying.

The water was gone just as quickly. She was parched, and unlike the food, it didn't look like they were going to have a substitute for that. If they didn't find some sort of river or stream, not even turning back would save them.

She dreaded that the most. They'd come so far. If they died now, to dehydration, she would never forgive herself.

Then again, if they died, she wouldn't have that regret for long.

Despite their best efforts, they were failing in their quest. This was it, wasn't it? They were going to die. Not because of darkspawn, not Loghain, not some group of bandits they ran into, or an abomination, or a werewolf, or some freaky spirit, but because they didn't have water.

For a while, Elissa had tried to convince herself swallowing her own spit would help, but then her mouth dried out, and she was just left to suffer with the rest of them.

So when they stumbled upon the bodies of the dwarves, Elissa was eager to ransack them for any supplies. There was no guilt, no hesitation, no thought. The bodies were fresh, only a few hours old. They would likely have food and water on them. If she could've cried, she would have.

So lost was she in her desire for anything to quench this insatiable thirst that she didn't even recognize the familiar presence of darkspawn nearby. Aedan had to grab her by the shoulder and wheel her around, and even then, she was confused. Nothing else mattered. This could literally be the thing standing between life and death for her, for him, for everyone, and he was worried about darkspawn?

And then she felt it, and her heart dropped into her stomach.

It wasn't just darkspawn. It was all of them. She could feel them there, far away, but in the same cavern as the bodies. Not close enough to have been the source of their demise, but definitely there.

Aedan held up a hand for the others and released her, eyes begging her to stay where she was standing. Once he decided Elissa didn't plan on moving, he crept forward a few feet, sticking close to the mouth of the cave. They were on some large balcony—just past the bodies was a stone bridge. If Elissa wasn't so disgusted by the sight flying over it, she might've thought it was a beautiful work of dwarven architecture.

But it was difficult to look anywhere other than the dragon sailing into view. It was larger than the high dragon they'd already defeated. Its scales were blacker than her nightmares could convey, and its eyes all the more terrifying.

That was it. The Archdemon, only a spear's throw away. They could expose themselves now, fight it without the horde at its back. All those darkspawn, and they were too far away to help their master.

If they killed it now, they could die down here knowing the Blight was defeated.

Elissa took another step forward, unsure of when she'd gotten next to her brother, but again, he stopped her, cutting her off with an arm.

"Don't," he whispered. "I know what you're thinking. Don't."

"Aedan—"

"Do you really think any of us are in the state to fight a dragon?" he hissed. "We barely killed the one at the temple, and this one's bigger and smarter. We'd die trying."

She clenched her jaw, looked back at the others. Most of their eyes were on her and Aedan, and all of them looked equally exhausted, even Sten and Morrigan, who normally didn't let such things become a visible problem.

Elissa looked back to Aedan. "There's no darkspawn to protect it."

"I'd rather fight the Archdemon with its buddies than fight it now, unequipped and starving." By now, it was long gone, having flown so far down the path she could barely see it, but there had to be a way. If they could feel it, it could feel them. There would be some way to draw it back here.

"You're smarter than this, Elissa," Aedan said. She hadn't realized he was holding her forearm. "This is not the time."

She snatched her arm back. "Fine."

"There are plenty of darkspawn between us and our goal. If you're that set on killing something, kill them."

Elissa just grunted.

Aedan stepped cautiously out into the open. A few hesitant steps later, he waved the all clear, and the rest of the party followed. Elissa didn't stop to admire their surroundings whatsoever—she was immediately searching the dwarves. Oghren followed, using his axe to roll one of the men over.

"Poor sods," Alistair mumbled. "This feels wrong."

She found a flask in a pouch. Her hands had barely closed around it when she felt the familiar weight of a liquid, and she had to contain her excitement.

"Legion of the Dead," Oghren commented.

"Probably the scouts Kardol spoke of," Aedan surmised.

Elissa pulled the flask free, a triumphant grin spreading across her face, and she chucked it to her brother. He opened it, sniffed the contents, and gave a nod. Her and Oghren resumed searching while the others stood watch. Below, Elissa thought she felt the distant rumble of footsteps. A quick glance across the bridge told her it was just a few darkspawn and an ogre. That had to be the source.

Her and Oghren's efforts turned up varying stores of drinks—either alcohol or water, but Elissa didn't particularly care which. This would get them through another few days, and ideally up to the end of their trail on Branka. The only fountain they had found had been the day after they left Orzammar, but Elissa couldn't even remember how long they'd been down here, so it wouldn't do them much good.

Water had never tasted so good. Not after a fight, not after running around the beaches with Aedan in the summer, nothing. This was a whole different level, and when the liquid hit her lips, they cracked painfully. Her throat ached, begged for more, and she obliged. It was a foolish indulgence, but Maker did she need it. She could go back to rationing her water supply after she was satisfied. Elissa was careful to leave the skin half full at the very least, though.

Everyone else was in a similar position as she was—drinking as much as they dared. On the surface, it was difficult to run out of water. Ferelden was conveniently built around bodies of water, so even if they ran out, there was always a town or village nearby, or a river. She hadn't realized how lucky they were to have that small luxury.

Maker, she was so exhausted and so burnt out. She didn't know how they were going to do this.

"Aedan?" Alistair called. He was standing by the bridge, leaning over the balustrade and looking down below. "You might want to see this."

Briefly, their eyes met, and she got to her feet to join the two of them. Elissa didn't honestly know what she expected, but when she looked down, the sight of all those darkspawn made her stomach sink. So many torches bobbing steadily along. She knew that rumbling they were feeling wasn't the lone ogre on the other side of the cavern—it was the entire horde, and wherever they were going, so was the Archdemon.

The surface. Where else would they be marching?

She swallowed deeply and stepped back, but Aedan and Alistair were still staring, expressions unreadable. Slowly, the others joined them in their stupor, just as numb and in shock as the three of the Wardens.

"How the hell are we going to defeat that?" Alistair whispered.

Aedan straightened. Elissa knew that face, that stance. She'd seen it once. When they were fleeing Highever and Duncan was giving their parents the condition of his rescue. Grim determination, sadness, fear. It was all there, and he was trying so hard to hide it.

"We'll have our own army," Aedan said resolutely.

"I...I don't..."

"We'll defeat them," Aedan said. His tone was stern. "We have to."

Elissa didn't know what she'd do if they didn't.

The group lingered for a few minutes, watching the endless sea of torches march onwards, until Aedan forced them to continue. They couldn't rest here no matter how desperately they wanted to. There were too many darkspawn nearby, and Elissa had a feeling they were too close to their destination to let up now. She would do everything in her power to get them through this as she was sure everyone else would.

The darkspawn waiting for them didn't prove easy to defeat. Perhaps it was their dehydration and exhaustion, perhaps it was the darkspawn actually being better than them, or maybe a mix of both. Elissa struggled to out-duel one hurlock while Aedan and Alistair tried to take on the ogre. Sten was the biggest target, however, as he was the only one making any headway against the creatures. Three of the shrieks were surrounding him, and even though she was the closest, she couldn't disengage to help.

Her hurlock barrelled at her, mace flying wildly, and she parried. The weight behind its attack jarred her, sent vibrations up and down her arms. Elissa backpedaled to regain her composure, but it kept coming. Every attack, every ounce of pressure was just too much to handle.

How she managed to disarm it, Elissa didn't know. Its blood was covering her sword, its mace was gone, and she practically had it dead to rights. With the point of her blade resting on its collarbone, she stepped in and drove the sword through its chest, but not before it managed to wriggle a dagger free.

Next thing she knew, that dagger was in her ribs. Stars exploded behind her eyelids and she staggered back. The hurlock crumpled at her feet. It took all of her willpower to remain standing, to pull the twisted black blade out of her side. She ripped her scarf off and stuffed it against the hole in her side.

The ground shook under their feet as the ogre slammed its massive fists into the stone. One massive sweep of its arm, and Aedan and Alistair were both uprooted and sent flying into the walls. It lowered itself to the floor and rushed forwards. Everyone, darkspawn included, leapt out of the monster's way.

Sten was not fast enough. The shrieks exploded in a puff, disappearing back into the shadows, leaving the qunari to stare down the ogre. It couldn't keep the charge up for long, so as it reached him, Sten spun out of the way and pivoted. That greatsword of his came up, cutting through the flesh of its throat, and even though he'd felled the beast, its momentum carried him forward.

A scream tore her back to her own problems—the shrieks Sten had been fighting had refocused on her.

"Get down!"

Elissa didn't need to be told twice. She fell to her knees and not a moment later, a wave of fire flowed over her head. It swallowed to shrieks whole, setting them alight as they cried out and clawed at their clothes.

She scuttled back across the tiles, sword still pointed at the bastards, before climbing to her feet.

"You are most welcome," came Morrigan's dry comment.

Elissa looked back at the witch, at the smoldering remains of the shrieks. Hand still pressed to her side, Elissa staggered a few steps, and then fell to her knees again.

Maker, did it hurt. When did breathing become so difficult?

She coughed, tasted and spat out blood. Huh. That wasn't a good sign.

Her vision was swimming, pivoting and turning and going all sorts of impossible directions. She blinked, tried to force it to calm, even went so far as holding her breath, but nothing worked. When she tried to retake the air she wasted, she found herself unable to.

Oh no.

Warmth spread throughout her limbs. From head to toe, Elissa felt like she was back in the earlier stages of the Deep Roads, where they were surrounded by fire and a suffocating atmosphere. Here, in the caves and the Dead Trenches, it was cold and lifeless, but not her, and not right now.

Her head was still spinning. She sat up—Elissa didn't even remember falling over—and there was nothing there. She could breathe. There was no ache in her side. She felt whole again. Her fingers prodded at the tear in her jacket, but they found solid skin, as if nothing had ever happened.

She looked up, to the others, but Morrigan was still turning around, as if she'd only just insulted Elissa's lack of manners. Wynne hadn't even retrieved whatever it was she was searching her bag for, and Alistair and Aedan were still returning from their brief stint across the balcony. Zevran was still picking up his fallen dagger, Oghren was still putting the cloth he used to clean his axe away. Sten was in the middle of readjusting himself and Leliana was crouched over a body with a pair of her arrows in it.

Everything instantly returned to its normal pace. Voices could be heard as her party members spoke and muttered about various things, and a pair of amber eyes resettled on her.

Thankfully, the witch didn't make another remark, and instead opted for storming off to be alone.

Elissa gulped as the warmth subsided. She hadn't realized it was still there, but as it became weaker, a strange feeling of hopelessness was left behind.

Without a second thought, Elissa finally understood what kind of spirit was possessing her.