They walked. For how long and how far, Nike didn't know. Her head hurt so badly, everything around her was a shifting blur that made sense only if you did not look at it. The desert sand turned to grass, then to trees, but when she looked at the trees she found she was still only surrounded by desert, endless in every direction.

Gemstones the size of wagons balanced on their edges, floated through the air, but became clouds when she looked at them. Fantastic beasts cavorted and danced and flew, only to be gone like vapor on any close examination.

She tried to close her eyes, but felt a strange slipping sensation when she did that, as if she were being slowly pulled backward on her feet. The first time this happened Niall caught her arm and she opened her eyes again.

"I know it's difficult," he said. "But try not to do that. You start to sleep, and you will slip right back into the demon's hold."

It took him two or three repetitions before she got most of her mind around what he'd said, and managed to remember it.

Keeping her eyes open meant confusion and pain. Closing them meant relief of confusion and pain, but a return to the demon's thrall. She was terrified to open her eyes and find herself back in that bed again in Highever. Terrified of it, because she wanted it so badly. Wanted her family and home to be there, safe and whole. Wanted Morrigan-

Somewhere in the dancing trees nearby, a raven called out. Nike looked, but only desert sands stretching to eternity could be seen.

"Tell me," she said at last, pressing her fingers once more to her temple. Even that burn of pain was starting to fade, started to fail to help her focus.

"Tell you?"

"Tell me about…" About what? Where were they going? "About who…what…why are we here? What-?"

"We're going to find the Dreamer," he said gently, and she nodded.

"Yes, that. Tell me about that."

"You will forget almost as soon as I start."

"Forget…" Forget what? She shook her head sharply. "I can't think. Tell me…tell me something. I need to…"

"Hearing me helps you to stay focused," he said, more a statement of realization than a question. "Very well. Focus on my words, not the Fade around you."

He cleared his throat, looking skyward a moment. Briefly, far too briefly, she wondered if he saw the same things that she did, or if by being dead the Fade around them was different to his eyes…and then forgot she was wondering it.

"We are going to look for the Dreamer," he said. "It is an old myth- one I am hoping is not so mythological as all that. In the past, there were mages who could enter the Fade at will and remain lucid, even manipulate it and control it. Their full story is far too long and boring to recount, but suffice it to say they were never numerous and over time their numbers dwindled even further. Now no mage I know of, no mage that is recorded in the Tower texts, has shown themselves to possess these gifts. But that is all right- it is not them I am seeking."

He looked at her, watching her as they walked.

"They- those mages- were known as dreamers. Small d. The one I am looking for is the Dreamer. Most mages have not even heard of this Dreamer, large D. The tales became so rarely told only one or two of the Tower's most ancient texts even allude to this being."

"Being…" Nike said wearily. She would have realized he'd been right, that she'd forget most of it right away, if she could remember he'd said that to begin with. Hearing him talking was helping, however, even if she could not absorb the subject matter.

"Yes," Niall said. "Even those old texts I mentioned do not know what or who the Dreamer truly is. Some say that it's the Maker- possible, I suppose, though I personally do not favor that idea. The Maker, according to popular belief, abandoned the Golden City and the world. Some say it was because of the Sin of mortal men penetrating the Fade and daring to taint the City with their presence, that the Maker could no longer abide there as the City had been made spoiled, imperfect. However, I disregard this. Those that did make it into the Golden City reported the Maker's throne was already empty. I have no idea how reliable said reports are; probably not very.

"You've no doubt heard it said that He will not return until His Chant is spread through all corners of the land- something that is very unlikely to happen any time soon. I am not one for the Chant of Light, as most mages are not, and I think this story is far too simplistic. The thoughts of those long dead who believed the Dreamer was the Maker, is that the Maker didn't abandon the world He created but that the whole thing is the Maker's Dream- Fade and the Waking Realms alike. That the moment He wakes up, all that we know will dissolve and vanish away."

"Wake up," Nike echoed. That was it. She needed to wake up. She was trapped in the Fade. "I'm trapped, I need to wake up."

"Yes," he said patiently. "That's what we're trying to do. We're trying to find the Dreamer to help you wake up."

"Ok."

"I don't believe the Maker is the Dreamer, though I suppose I also do not believe He can't be," he said after a few moments pause, when it looked like her eyes might try and drift closed again. "Other legends allude to the Dreamer as being one of the Old Gods, the only one that was not cast out of the Fade and trapped in the deep places of the world. Yet others state the Dreamer is a singular type of spirit, as powerful as the Old Gods but apart from them all the same. Still others, that the Dreamer is merely a singularly talented mortal man or woman whose body slumbers eternally somewhere in the Waking Realm. Your guess as to which is true is as good as mine- all seem just as implausible as the last. The Dreamer's very existence- whatever they truly are- seems to be to be incredibly implausible, but as they are the only chance we have to get you back safely…"

"I need to wake up," Nike said again, with some frustration. She could follow very little of what he was saying. All she knew was that she was trapped, that she and others were going to die unless she could get un-trapped. For all she could remember, this man walking with her through this snowy mountain pass (desert?) was the one who had trapped her, but that didn't seem right in her head.

They kept on down past the sea shore, the water reminding her of something cold and terrifying, and for some reason she kept thinking of a giant hand lifting her, but couldn't recall why. As she looked toward the sea, she again saw only desert.

"I suppose this isn't going to help much," Niall said with a weary sigh. "Trying to find the Dreamer just by wandering would yield little fruit if we were in the Waking Realm. Here, I fear, the search is even more futile…"

"I'm the Dreamer," a low, sluggish voice came from nearby. Out of the corner of her eye, the speaker was a merchant man standing by a broken wagon along this lonely road, but when she looked at him he didn't vanish as everything else did. He kept standing there, by himself in the desert.

"No," Niall said with a sort of resigned amusement. "No, you're not."

The merchant man scowled a little, then sat down as if making such an expression had sapped the last of his energy. "Ok, whatever."

"Lazy spirit," Niall said to Nike, drawing her along. "Not quite a sloth demon, not yet, but definitely not the Dreamer. I guess he didn't notice I was dead, and can see him as he is."

"Dreamer?" Nike asked, confused. Wait, that was right. She was trapped. In the Fade.

"Yes, we're looking for the Dreamer," he said. "If they exist, I should know them when I see them. If for no other reason than they will not look like the other spirits I have heretofore seen in this place, just as you don't."

The wooded road that had seemed to be the lazy merchant's landscape (until she focused on it) was now a rugged place in some low foothills. She could feel mountains looming over her, though could not see them through the side of her eye or her direct gaze. Some sort of clearing was ahead, warm and inviting. As she looked at it, she could see the late gold of a setting summer sun shining through the trees, all drastically out of place here in the desert.

Then Niall stopped and caught her arm. He was looking at the clearing too.

"Who are-?" she started to ask, but he hushed her.

"That clearing," he said. "That is…different."

"Different?" she asked dully.

"Nike, when you look at it, what do you see?"

What was this weirdo on about? Why was her head hurting so badly? "Who are you? How did I…?"

"Concentrate, Nike. Focus. What do you see ahead of us? What do you see all around?"

She looked around with a frown. "I see desert," she said, then looked ahead. "And some thick trees. It looks like some kind of clearing, but…those trees? In the desert-?"

"Yes, it is different," Niall said. "It stays for you too. Come. I don't think it's a demon's realm but let's go carefully."

They approached the trees cautiously. Other than being out of place this deep in the desert, there did not seem to be anything odd about the trees themselves. They were tall conical firs, moving slightly in the breeze and growing close enough together that odd late afternoon sunlight was turned into beams and shafts. A large gap in one of the trees looked big enough to allow passage through, and as they approached it the pain in Nike's head dulled to a throbbing ache, and something tickled her.

Touching her face, she drew her fingertips back red with blood. It gave her pause, and when the man slowed and looked at her again she stared at him.

"Niall," she said. "You're Niall, aren't you?"

"I am," he said, then looked around. "Whatever this place proves to be, it seems to be helping you at least a little. Can you remember what we're doing?"

"Trying to find someone, to help me wake…I'm in the Fade, trapped. I was in the mage Tower, my…"

Memory seemed to be coming in a rush now, and she slowly turned a circle as she looked around. "My friends. Alistair, Morrigan, and Wynne…what's happened to them? Are they here too? Trapped, like me?"

"I don't know. I saw only you." He didn't seem relieved at her memory and focus clearing. In fact, he looked concerned. "I am not sure we should proceed."

"Why not?" she asked. "You were talking about a Dreamer, yes? I need to find them to get back, so if they're here, why-?"

"That's just it," Niall said. "I don't know if they are here or not. I am afraid that your memory and focus clearing may mean…"

"What? May mean what?"

"That you are becoming like me," he said softly. She stared at him a moment before it clicked, and she paled.

"You're afraid I'm dying," she said slowly. "That's why I can suddenly remember."

"Does your head still hurt?" he asked. Reaching up with her hand, she pressed the gash on her temple and winced.

"Yes, most definitely."

"That's got to be a favorable sign," he said. "If you were dying the pain would be fading. If you were dead, it would be gone. Still, I'm not certain we should-"

"Can I get back to my body any other way? Get out of the Fade?"

"Only by going back through the realm of the demon that took you," he said.

"Which you said is bad. So, we go forward."

Without waiting for him to agree, she walked past him and ducked into the gap between pine trees.

For a moment, that warm afternoon sunlight was right in her eyes. She winced, lifting a hand against it. A cool breeze lifted her hair and she lowered the hand, looking around in awe.

The desert was gone. She was standing in a forest clearing, a small and neat path extending from her feet and back behind her through the wood. A stream laughed and burbled into the clearing from the opposite side, spilling down some rocks and then wending its chuckling course off to the west. A few boulders were scattered here and there, thick with soft green moss. Birds sang overhead.

The sun seemed to warm her, thawing out frozen bones she had not been aware had frozen. Her head throbbed and ached but even that seemed like a supremely rich and alive sensation.

Niall stepped up beside her, taking a deep breath, no less awe or wonder on his face. "What is this place?"

"It is my place," a voice said. It was neither here nor there, that voice. It didn't seem to come from any particular direction. It was warm and gentle, neither male nor female. Looking around to find the speaker, Nike saw the form for the first time.

It was a person, too tall to be dwarven but impossible to tell race other than that. The form was much as the desert had been. When she looked directly at it, she could see face, features, hair, gender, clothing…but it remained in her mind only as she looked at it. The moment her eyes were not focused directly on it, all memory of these details were lost and the form was nothing more than a soft silver rose silhouette in the shape of a person, emanating a thin misty aura of the gentlest pinks and pale grays. She could not even say for certain that to look directly at it revealed the same features each time.

"Who are you?" she asked, almost breathlessly.

"I am the one you were seeking," the form said.

"You're the Dreamer?" Niall asked.

"That is a name for me. This is my place."

"I need to get back," Nike said. "I need to get back to my body, to the Waking Realm. I'm not entirely sure what happened but-"

"You were enthralled by a desire demon," the Dreamer said softly.

"Yes. It's very important I get back. We need to free the Tower or they're going to kill everyone there. My friends, the mages…everyone. Are my friends all right? Are they hurt?"

"Come and see," the Dreamer said, and turned toward the stream. Nike exchanged looks with Niall and moved over, peering down into the water as the Dreamer pointed.

In the stream, Nike could see a room. In the center of it stood that same red-black woman-creature that had disguised itself as Fergus, as Morrigan. Around her, a dozen bodies were cast around. Some wore templar armor, some mage-robes. Nike's brows knit until she recognized one of the bodies.

"That's me," she said softly. In the vision, she was laying sprawled on the ground, blood pooled under her head. Several of her arrows had spilled out of the quiver, and Far Song lay near her hand. Once she'd spotted herself, she saw Alistair. He, too, was sprawled in a sit, unconscious and half slumped against the wall. His sword lay near his hand but he did not seem to be wounded.

Morrigan. Where's Morrigan? she scrutinized each body until she saw her, practically at the demon's feet. Her fist still gripped a mage staff, a stout coil of knotted wood as tall as she was.

The demon itself did not look too pleased. It was holding its arm oddly, and as Nike looked closer she realized that dark scorch marks had burned the side of its face, its arm.

Another memory hit her then, and Nike covered her mouth as it surged in on her.

She'd looked into the room with the others just behind her, Far Song drawn back to her ear. She'd seen the bodies slumped around, and the single woman standing in the center of the room, but the woman hadn't looked like a demon. She'd looked like one of the mages, wounded and scared, not much more than a teenager herself. Nike had moved forward, thinking only that she was terrified and alone, that she needed to help.

"Are you all right?" Alistair, his voice just as pained for the girl as Nike felt, as he stepped in the room behind her.

Nike had lowered her bow, sliding the arrow back into her quiver. She felt worried about the girl but also suddenly very sleepy, disconnected, like the world had silently slipping away from her.

Then Morrigan was there with a shout, shoving Nike hard to the side. It all had happened in such slow motion. Nike, falling. Morrigan, thrusting that staff forward as flames burst from the end of it, lighting her face like a demon herself as the ball of flame swelled and bloomed and crashed into the demon. She saw the demon's own face, its truth revealed and even carved in those flames, as a clawed hand swung upward. Then Nike's head had hit the ground and…nothing.

Until she'd woken in her bed in Highever, nothing.

"Is she alive?" she heard herself ask quietly, eyes fixed to the water. "Are…are they alive?"

"They are in the demon's thrall," the Dreamer said. "In her realm, just as you were."

Nike tore her eyes away and looked at Niall, then back at the Dreamer. "I'm not leaving them there. I need to go back, to get them out."

"If you go back to the demon's realm you will only be enthralled again," Niall said. "If you get back to your body and wake up, you'll be able to kill the demon."

"And what happens to them?" Nike asked angrily. "If I get back to my body, what happens to them?"

"If you kill the demon, they should wake up-"

"And if I can't? I couldn't the first time, couldn't even see it as what it was. The moment I stepped in that door I was fooled, and within seconds I was enthralled. Do you think that I can wake, orient myself, and react to kill that demon in seconds? With a head wound?"

The Dreamer laid their hand on Nike's arm and immediately it was as if the anger melted out of her, the rest of her thoughts and feelings that had been masked by it suddenly as clear as polished crystal. Though the Dreamer said nothing, Nike looked back at the scene in the water then nodded slowly. "Yes, I see," she said.

"What do you see?" Niall asked. She ignored him, looking back at the Dreamer.

"I can't leave them."

"I will walk with you," they replied, then looked at Niall. "Your path lies onward."

"I don't know how to go on," Niall said tremulously. "The Tower…"

"It's all right, Niall," the Dreamer said, then tilted their head a little. "You spent your life studying the Fade and you never found the answer to the one question you could not ask. I will tell you the answer now. When all that is physical is gone, what is left is thought."

Niall blinked, a wondering look spreading over his face. "It can't be that simple."

"Much in existence is far simpler than it would seem. I will walk with her. Leave the Maker to the Making."

"You're not the Maker, are you?" Nike asked tremulously, as if terrified of the answer. The Dreamer laughed.

"Only as much as you are, Nike," they said with no small amusement. Niall came forward, taking Nike's hand briefly and giving it a squeeze.

"Is there anything at all I can do for you?" she asked sadly. "You helped me when you had no reason, and I-"

"Save the Tower," he said. "Don't let them purge it. Be the Warden that you already are. That is all I desire or can expect."

"I'll do my best," she said, and turned away as the Dreamer once again touched her arm. When she looked back, Niall was gone.