I met Greagoir at the gates. A courier had rode out ahead of the group to alert me at the tower of his coming. We had already had our own squall to deal with - a mage uprising from the tower apprentices. The death of their fellows was still too raw a wound to quickly forget, and it didn't help that the templars had taken a distinctly heavy prejudice against them since.

Striding hard and fast, I ordered the men to open the doors before I reached them. He stood on the threshold looking entirely disheveled, his hand clutching that of a small child's. My eyes drew to her, and almost instantly I could feel the presence of darkness inhabiting the child's body. I screwed up my face and turned to Greagoir.

"This way," I muttered, and ordered the guards to shut the gate behind us. The child had trouble keeping up, forcing Greagoir to gather her into his arms and follow my gait up to the third level of my office. She was otherwise silent as he set her down in a chair and moved around the desk to speak to me.

"She was the only one left inside," he murmured to me, casting wary eyes back to her. She was still in shock it seemed. Her empty, wide eyes traveled across the room as if not entirely sure she was physically present in it. "She won't say a word," he added in a worried mutter. I looked back at her.

She was frightened, that much I could see. The situation had yet to settle in her mind, and Maker forbid should it ever. By the letter alone I felt sick with dismay over the horror she had been exposed to. No child should live to see such nightmares.

"What do you propose we do?" Greagoir interrupted my observations, needy and pressing. I regarded him with concern, wondering if truly he was more worried about the child or the safety of the Circle. Since the incident, I had not seen him come back from himself - if that could truly be a definition of a man lost to his own humanity. He had grown as cold and unfeeling as his commander before, and I feared it would be the undoing of the tower should he be left to progress.

"Greagoir, I will handle this as best I know how," I assured him, then turned my attention to the child. She had steadily grown more aware of her surroundings, and began to bristle in fear of the unfamiliarity of it. I stepped forward and knelt beside her chair, flashing a wide and warm smile.

"A little frightened, are we?" I asked. She looked at me then, eyes widened when she realized she was not alone. "That's all right, there's no need to worry," I touched her forehead with a glowing index and felt her relax. "There, there…" I soothed the child, and slowly watched her features soften. "This will not hurt, I promise," I assured her.

Pressing three fingers to her temple, I closed my eyes and sifted my way through her present memories. Flashes of screams, darkness, and blood jolted my mind. I felt her fear, the raw terror and hysteria of entrapment. Though I did not want to disturb the frail girl, I attempted to travel back further to find the source of the evil. Greagoir had failed to describe what had started the attack in the first place, though I suspected he held back something.

Memories of children from the orphanage flashed in my mind. A young boy; her friend, likely. Then, I saw the nightmares rooted deep in her subconscious. A woman plagued them as a constant, both motherly and dangerous. She shifted between two figures, one of which I recognized quite easily, and the other an echo of a much more sinister creature. I moved further back, and found the girl in a shack with the woman, embraced around her with cupped hands as red lights danced under their fingertips. A cloaked figure entered the doorway, and she pushed the child behind her so the stranger could not reach her. Uneasy, I drew back and released my hold on the girl. The memories faded.

Muttering concerns to myself, I stood to my feet and paced over to Greagoir, who had taken to observing one of the bookcases beside my desk. Eyes still on her, I leaned in to whisper to him.

"So this is her daughter, then?" I tested, waiting for him to reveal his knowledge. Greagoir froze, struck by his guilt, then looked away with a troubled frown on his face.

"Yes," he muttered.

"Her only child, I presume…"

"Yes."

"Greagoir…" I started, my voice heavy with uncertainty. "I need to understand why you felt it necessary to keep this from me."

"I saw no need to tell you," he retaliated too quickly. "She wasn't a threat."

"Yes, a past tense now rendered useless. Was now is," I contemplated. "I greatly suspect you also knew she was the cause of the accident, also?"

He said nothing.

"Well if there's no other news I should know about, I think we should come up with a solution - don't you?" I said importantly. Greagoir was unsettled by this, and creased his forehead before speaking to me.

"What do you think we should do with her?" he asked, unsure. I raised my brow in surprise, turning back to him.

"Do with her - Maker, Greagoir, you speak as if we are dealing with a body already," I chided lightly. Then, turning to her, I smiled and spoke over my shoulder. "If you had planned to do anything so sinister, I imagine you would have done so at the Alienage."

"Saved yourself the trouble of your journey back, at least," I said while crouching down in front of the silent girl. I grinned wide at her, my face crinkled with sympathy and kindness. "So I assume you leave the decision up to me. You wouldn't mind that, would you dear girl?" I spoke to her.

She slowly shook her head in response.

"Well then, I think it would be best to take those terrible nightmares away," I whispered to her, "I think you will feel a lot better after that." Taking her small hand in mine, I stood and walked with the child towards the infirmary.

I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"You're going to erase her memories?" Greagoir hissed in my ear, shocked. Only a few times before had the Circle found the need to perform such drastic measures to preserve a mind, and only as a last resort. It seemed only right to place the girl in that category, if only for her own safety.

"Would you rather her live with them?" I smiled and asked. He released my shoulder then, startled, and stepped away. Though I knew something haunted his subconscious, I was not one to pry - not unless explicitly necessary. Offering the child my hand once more, I walked her downstairs to the infirmary wing to set up a cot and call for Enchanter Wynne.

"It seems we have a need again to use your special skills, Enchanter Wynne," I nodded to her once she had entered. For a moment she hesitated, then drew her eyes to the source of my request. Quieting, Wynne drew alongside me and helped the girl onto the bed.

"I see."