"Flee! Flee! Flee!" The Fade was shouting in unison from its very being.

Below on the dance floor, was a tear in reality, a gnarled inky rip where wisps poured out chaotically flinging silverware and food and candles and all sorts of things as they struggled to make sense of this new environment they were forced into. Plates crashed against the gilded walls. Food was smeared on expensive cloth. Knives embedded in the walls.

The ball attendees cowered in fright, fleeing for the exits as templars brandished guns and swords at floating dishes but not firing in fear of hitting someone innocent. Something seemed to be agitating the wisps, drawing them across the Veil, but Malcolm couldn't tell what.

He saw a crown of blonde hair, and heavy templar gear, corralling the other templars and barking orders to clear the dance floor of people and coordinating attacks on the dishware. That only could be Knight-Lieutenant Meredith. Still, if she was securing the area where was Carver? Malcolm scanned the dance floor but he was nowhere to be found. All the chaotic emotions were stirring up the spirits, which were stirring up the people, which were stirring up the spirits. It was only moments from being a bloodbath.

"What in the Maker's name is happening!?" Leandra looked at the remnants of her party, her eyes wide in fright as she clutched Malcolm's arm for support.

Before Malcolm could answer, Scholar was pulled through the Veil and Leandra screamed at the sight of him floating on the balcony.

Malcolm grabbed her hand and in a commanding tone said, "Stay calm." He squeezed Leandra's hand, and with the pleading warning in his eyes, she took in a steadying breath, her eyes nervously flitting between Malcolm and the creature.

She looked at him with wide eyes, her fingers digging into him as Scholar whirled around in confusion, bubbling in uncertainty. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I didn't mean to come through."

"Scholar," Malcolm's voice was stern. "Go back."

Scholar's fingers were elongating into knife like talons, its skeletal teeth jutting out of its jaw in unnatural angles. "I can't," he held his head with his trembling fingers, lengthening with every second. "I'm dying. We're dying." Scholar turned its skeleton face towards Malcolm grasping out for help. "The veil's been sundered. Somniari, you must heal it."

Malcolm turned to Leandra who gaped at him in questioning, he flinched. Did she know what that word meant? He faced her fully, uncertain how she was taking all this news. "I need to go into the Fade. Can you watch my body?"

"Watch your body? What for?"

And then without explanation Malcolm plopped down on the ground and laid his back against the stone, which was cold and uncomfortable.

She looked at him as if he were daft. "What are you doing?"

Malcolm felt only mildly self-conscious. "Just watch my body," he repeated. Then he closed his eyes, the sinking feeling turning into a rush of vertigo as he slipped through the bridge of the Veil.

He counted one second, then two, and by the third he choked on the pain of his breath, opening his eyes to see the Palace but warped and in nightmarish colors. His body rejected the wrongness of the magic, manifesting as shards of molten glass trying to burst through his skin. In the agony of it, he fell to his knees. Thousands of searing needles assaulted him to the bone, trying to incinerate him from inside out. There was a dark corruption spreading from the heart of the dance floor, inky balck threads linked through the Fade sundering all it touched. He could see a hole where magic was pouring out, the wisps of the Fade were drawn to this like a magnetic pull, those that touched the corruption, twisting and warping and blackening before they fell tumbling from the Fade.

"Flee! Flee! Flee!" the whole Fade shouted while the corrupted wisps began to attack the unaltered ones with intent like a plague.

The Fade itself felt sick and was shrieking. Breathing in the air was like sucking in smoke. It was labor to get in a steady flow of breath. He reached into the air feeling for Scholar, peeling back the layers of the Veil like an onion until he could see the impression of a red aura trapped on the other side. "What's happening?" Malcolm asked, reaching through the thin layer he created to try to pull the creature through. Scholar was desperate, its knife-like talons cutting into Malcolm's hand in a panicked grip. Malcolm jumped back, the creature's touch so cold and alien, and they clung to Malcolm as it tore through the hole he created in an attempt to come back home. The creature was so black now that Malcolm thought he had brought the wrong spirit through. Its shape was no longer recognizable, the spirit struggling to hold on to its form.

"Zelophehad has seen you," Scholar said in a voice Malcolm didn't recognize.

At the mention of the terror demon, dread crept in Malcolm's bones, fear locking him in place and suddenly he realized around the Fade in every corner he was surrounded by goat eyes.

"Do not feed it," Scholar warned. "You must not add to his corruption. He will strike without mercy."

Malcolm was not sure what to attack. His heart thudded slow and hard in his ears, the pain muddling his thoughts. Scholar's color was almost gone, the creature almost completely warped. "Am I going to have to fight you, too? The whole Fade? Scholar, how do I fix this?"

The spirit's voice warbled, cracking at the edges in jarring discordant sounds. "You are the voice of spirits. You must calm us. You must heal the crying Veil."

Could he do that? When a tear in the Veil happened at the Circle, he always had to tear off other parts of the Fade to thread the pieces back together but this hole was not so much a hole as it was a void that blackened the strings of the Fade into thick veins that snaked farther and farther with each pulse.

Not knowing what to do he tried to hack at the corruption with his magic, but that only seemed to make it grow faster. In fact the corruption stuck to the light of the magic darkening it, and it leaked back into his hands like streams of dry ice rushing through his blood. He cried out in agony, his hands trembling. This was nothing he'd seen before. For a moment he thought of Leandra, wondered if she would be safe so close to his body. If anything got through she would be unprotected. He plucked the random strand of doubt and snapped it clean. He would not fail. He could not fail. Pricks of tears cornered his eyes as he fought through the pain but a seed of fear planted within his heart and taking root. He dropped the inky threads his fingers licked with white scars. His willpower wasn't strong enough.

"How?" Malcolm asked, his voice desperate. The Veil itself was wailing, like a screech that overtook his mind that blanked out thought. He did not even know how he was going to heal the Veil, let alone fight against this demon. He could feel the structure of the Veil starting to fall apart. It felt like the Fade was leaking back into reality, like water draining down a sink.

Scholar crooked a knife-like finger. "How does one calm a crying babe? How does one stop the tears from flowing? There is not one answer."

Malcolm looked at all the goat eyes blinking back at him, swirling in amusement, as if he was waiting to see what he would do. He took a deep breath and emanated a calming spell, half to soothe his frazzled nerves. But the scent of Malcolm's magic drew the wisps from their death march towards the Rift, and the Veil's shrieking seemed to lessen.

"Play," a red shiny wisp dangled near his ear.

"Play," another one bounced on his foot.

"Really? Now?" Malcolm asked in an annoyed tone. Their fallen zombie brethren were literally biting at their heels but not even the threat of death could stop playtime.

"Plaaaay," another wisp tugged on his sleeve with urgency.

He looked at Scholar who was huddling into himself and shivering as if he was cold, its new monstrous shape almost solidified. The creature was only able to choke out one word. "Listen."

So Malcolm obeyed, reluctantly. He started with one little rainbow bubble that popped against a wisp, making it giggle with it's eerie child-like voice. More wisps swarmed him. "Play. Play. Play," they chanted their song, delighting when Malcolm surrendered more streams of shimmering bubbles. The wisps chased after them in delight, mimicking their pops and trying to replicate the sheen.

The altered wisps seemed to hesitate turning to the sparkling bubbles in interest, their little bodies swaying to a beat that was not there. "Play," the wisps urged louder.

The goat eyes seemed annoyed that Malcolm was ignoring them. The fear in the air was already dissolving, the sweltering pain under his skin soothing as the wisps glittered and glimmered and chanted their song among the bubbles soft pops. The blackened wisps seemed to be attracted to the bubbles, the sparkles of magic seeming to clean their murky color.

"Sing," a red wisp twirled in one of his curls.

"Oh, no," Malcolm shook his head as he waved another stream of bright bubbles from his fingers. "Let's just keep it at play."

But soon the "play" chant had turned into a "sing" chant that was getting more angry and agitated, and the wisps that had been getting better were starting to warp again.

Malcolm looked at Scholar in a panic. "Scholar, what do I do?"

Scholar's color looked like it was returning with Malcolm's healing bubbles and it shook its monstrous head as if he was disappointed in Malcolm. "The wisps are already telling you, you stupid creature."

Malcolm's stomach dropped as he looked at one of the goat eyes that were veering closer to inspect the song. Malcolm, nervously, didn't know what else to do so he opened his mouth, singing a shaky rhyme with no real melody, "Hey little wisps. Go the fuck away. I really really don't have time to play."

Despite the anger in his song the wisps seemed delighted and danced around him, lighting up the whole area so it was cleansed of darkness. The murky wisps seemed to be attracted to the brilliance, echoing the song until they too shone as bright as little stars, chanting happily.

The eyes squinted in the brightness, blinking out one by one as magic poured from Malcolm's hands and attached to the sundered threads and lit them in a heavenly glow.

The wisps danced around him, so Malcolm took the cue to do a little jig of his own, one of Darcy's usual pop routines, which started as wiggle, dip, and snap of his hips, the pain in his limbs lessening with every carefree motion. The wisps whirled in delight. As he danced he waved more bubbles and sparkles in the air the wisps ate them up, shimmering as they followed his fingers. "Stop being creepy. It's really freaky. Shut the fuck up, And get sleepy."

At that suggestion the Fade seemed to shake and yawn back at him, the dancing of the wisps getting more dazed and less excited. He saw one lone goat eye staring at him in what seemed to be confusion before it blinked out of sight.

Scholar sighed in relief and Malcolm noticed he was back to their old formless self and was eating a tray of shrimp puffs. "I preferred the ancient verses."

Malcolm looked at the wisps that were now dozing in midair with puzzlement, the Fade glowing and humming the tune he had just been singing, the verses echoing back in a rhythmic pattern. The remnants of the white thread-like scars were still on his hands but the pain in his body receded until it was just the usual dull ache. "I have no idea how that even worked."

Scholar cocked his head. "You sound so surprised we would listen to you. I guess it makes sense since you seem to spend so much time ignoring us."

Malcolm bristled at that, not sure what in the Fade was listening right now. He decided now was not time to push his luck. "Don't bother me for a while. I'll come to find you when I'm ready to train."

Scholar sighed in frustration pausing between bites. "So I'm supposed to just wait around until you're ready and be shooed off whenever you get busy again? Frustrating."

"Yup, that's not negotiable," Malcolm rolled his neck, stretching through the Fade to reach back down to his body. "So stay in the Fade and stop poking around my head."

The red wraith seemed to at least accept his answer… for now. "As long as you bring a tongue back with you for me to experiment with. What about that cute girl you were with? She won't be needing hers will she?"

"If you so much as sniff one of her memories I'll shove my foot so far up your ass that's the only thing you'll be tasting!" Malcolm's temper snapped, scattering the wisps that were sleeping around him.

Scholar burped, his jaw snarling. "Ooh I always hate how nasty that emotion tastes." He then shuddered. "Fine not hers, but someone must not be using theirs."

Malcolm shuddered, deigning not to answer that and instead reached back to his body, feeling the familiar vertigo of slipping back through the Veil. Normal feeling began returning to his limbs and his head so warm, he thought he had injured it with the pain he still felt from his trip from the Fade, but as he tested his movement he realized he was propped up on something soft, layers of soft cloth beneath his fingertips. He opened his eyes in surprise to find Leandra holding her breath in worry, his head in her lap.

He didn't want to move. In fact, resting his head and going back to sleep in her lap sounded fantastic but another voice brought him back to reality.

"Did you go into the Fade without lyrium?"

The question was like a gun to Malcolm's temple, and his heart only beat faster in panic when he saw the real gun, an assault rifle, hanging from the templar's arm. He was in trouble now. Then he glanced at the gun-carrier's face, it was only Carver. He let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, his ribs aching.

Carver softened his eyes at Malcolm. "I'm not trying to get you in trouble. I just...need to understand what I saw."

Malcolm pushed himself upright, sorely missing the softness of Leandra's lap and looked up at the templar that could easily shoot him. "What did you see?"

Carver sighed, blinking as if he didn't really believe it. "Spirits were being called across the veil. More than I ever saw," then he looked at Malcolm in awe as he said, "then bubbles started blowing from your fingers and everything seemed to stop."

Malcolm's cheeks burned. "Bubbles?" So that escaped the Veil.

Carver then raised a disbelieving eyebrow and said. "And then you started singing and it was like...the veil healed itself."

Leandra caressed his hand at that statement, shyly adding, "You have a lovely singing voice."

Malcolm realized he was grinning like an idiot when Carver was looking expectantly, waiting for an answer. So Malcolm asked, "Did you hear the song I was singing?"

That's when Carver snapped. "Stop messing around, Hawke! I need answers. Now!"

At Carver's tone, Malcolm jumped to his feet squaring his shoulders for inspection until he remembered it was just Carver. Still, even though he trusted Carver, he wasn't keen to test it, and found himself at a loss for how to answer him without more questions.

"I just hopped into the Fade and used an aura to calm things down," Malcolm finally said. None of that was technically a lie.

"And the demon?" Carver asked.

Malcolm flinched. Which demon was he talking about? But instead he feigned dumbness and said. "What demon?"

Carver gestured at Leandra and said. "There was a demon that the Lady kept me from killing even though it was seconds away from attacking us." He shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was saying. "But it disappeared back into the Veil before it turned on us."

Malcolm blinked at Leandra in surprise.

Leandra picked herself up as she said calmly, "The spirit warned us the Veil was sundered. As monstrous as it looked, it couldn't have been evil if it knew to look to Malcolm for help." Then she beamed at him so brightly he felt immediately flooded with warmth. "And he did help."

The overlapping murmur of the voices below on the dance floor was swelling into a chorus of screams making Leandra's once confident shoulders tighten into knots.

"Leandra!"

"Leeandra!"

"Leeeeandra!"

Guillaume, her parents, and all of her friends were all looking for Leandra, and Malcolm knew from the paling of her face and the way her squeeze turned into a vice that she was not looking forward to going back, but she turned to Malcolm and bit her bottom lip.

"I should be going," her voice was small and defeated.

Malcolm shook his head and said. "Tonight can't be over," he looked at her with pleading eyes. "Say you have got need to go home early. It's the perfect time to ditch everyone and go find a better party."

Leandra's cheeks flooded with warmth, her eyes sparkling at the thought, but then she looked at her intertwined fingers and then at Carver in alarm, not sure where to go from there. "We probably can't right?"

Malcolm turned his puppy dog eyes on Carver. "I'll be so good. Like no lip for at least a week."

Carver looked between Malcolm and Leandra until his gaze fell on their intertwined fingers, a conflicted frown creasing the settling wrinkles on his forehead. Then his shoulders sagged as his voice took a fatherly tone. "Enchanter Jakoby tells me you've turned in nothing all semester. If you promise to start turning in some of your backlogged homework I can consider letting you slip away," Malcolm jumped up in pre-celebration dragging Leandra up in a slight hop with him that made her giggle, but Carver quickly put up his finger and said, "But I also want no lip for a month for this. And make sure to get started on all your classes, not just Enchanter Jakoby's."

Malcolm frowned thinking of all the work that had piled up all semester. "Don't you think that's a little extreme?"

Leandra elbowed him in the gut and he immediately perked up before Carver could snap, "Hawke!"

"Just kidding. Totally kidding. I'll be good. Please don't change your mind."

"Leeeandra!" her mother's panicked voice rang through the ballroom. "Andraste's blood! Is she missing!?"

Leandra looked at Malcolm, her eyebrows knitting together, as she sighed in regret untangling her fingers. "Don't keep me waiting too long," her voice was breathy, barely above a whisper, and before Malcolm could respond she gathered her skirts and dashed off the balcony and downstairs before her parents could make a bigger scene.

Malcolm felt his fingers reaching out, grasping for the hand that was no longer there, but another hand on his shoulder brought him out of his trance.

Carver looked tense as he started pushing Malcolm back inside the palace. "Let's gather the rest of the mages and officially clean up this mess."

The inside of the palace looked so much brighter in comparison to the nightmarish twist the Fade had turned it to. The expensive crystal chandelier that once swayed over the dance floor had fallen and shattered around the ground shattering shards all along the floor. Malcolm and Carver started descending the stairs, the steps echoing Carver's heavy boots. The angular medieval looking arches cast long shadows across the ballroom, the room darker than usual with the candles and light bulbs blown out. Servants were relighting the room in candles but the room in the energy remained nervous, as if people were waiting for things to jump from the shadows.

As he saw all the templars and guard working in coordination to route all the people Malcolm could feel his nerves start to rise. Templars were dangerous in normal circumstances, but add a few dozen spirits and all of Kirkwall's nobles stuffed in one ballroom, someone would be out for blood and Malcolm would rather not be a target than get a thank you. "Do you need to say anything about me? I mean let's just say you did it. You're good at playing the hero."

"Sorry, Hawke. How am I going to explain how a templar had any effect on the Veil? They're going to want to know how I did it," Carver then shot a cheeky smile at his friend. "Besides you only proved what Enchanter Jakoby's been saying about you. I think this could earn you more privileges in the Circle if you play this right."

Malcolm wished he could wipe the triumphant grin on Carver's face, his gut plummeting with every step down the stairs. Of course, the templar couldn't see how dangerous it was to have such a target on his back.

As he got to the bottom of the stairs, his foot crushed a wine glass turning many eyes of the nobles and templars to him. Malcolm shivered, remembering not too long ago the countless goat eyes staring back, but if he mis-stepped here, he could lose something more precious than his life. He instinctively ducked his head, stepping behind Carver who was already pushing through the crowd, parting the sea of faces with just his heavy gait and commanding presence.

Templars and guardsmen were helping frazzled nobles from their hiding places and trying to calm them down. Several women and men were wailing, frightened at what just occurred, the palace was a hum of talking voices, thankfully not as intrusive and imposing as the spirits of the Fade but the sound still put him on edge. Malcolm kept his voice low so only Carver could hear, "I was hoping we could keep what I did between you and me."

Carver rolled his eyes, his subordinates stiffening at attention at his passing. "I won't mention the singing," he nudged Malcolm playfully.

Malcolm's face remained serious. "No, I mean all of it." If somehow this unraveled and they found out he was somniari, that would be it. There would be no more discussions and nothing that Carver could do to save him from being tranquilized to keep everyone else safe.

Carver's jaw set uneasily, stepping towards him and lowering his voice. "Malcolm is there something you're not telling me?"

Malcolm flinched but quickly coached his face into a mask, betraying nothing to anyone staring. "Of course, not."

Carver lowered his head to Malcolm's ear. "Because I can't help you if I don't know what I'm up against. You know that."

Malcolm's shoulders tightened, but he offered a lazy smile. There was no way out of this that he could see, so it was best to just not give any more away. "It's not anything like that," Malcolm said, his eyes averting to the right as he reached for a believable excuse. "It's just going to be a pain if they try to pawn any more responsibilities on me."

Carver shook his head, breathing out a chuckle. "Maker, you never change." His gauntleted hand slid to Malcolm's shoulder, "and normally I would encourage you to be yourself, and you should, but you're courting Leandra Amell. Her family is probably one of the most powerful and esteemed houses in Kirkwall. If you want to be someone worthy of her, you might want to consider some thought of what kind of future you'll give her."

Malcolm's jaw gaped, the blow to his ego felt as if he had been punched in the gut and though he opened his mouth to argue, he found that he had no rebuttal. He had given no thought to his future for himself, let alone one with her in it, and it was a scary but also exciting thought that seemed to fill him with an airy feeling, like he was walking on the moon. Until now he had only thoughts of escaping, so he didn't give a fuck about his standing in the Circle, but with Leandra, he could see a beautiful vision forming, filled with the sight of her smile and the sound of her laughter.

The vision was hazy, more like a mirage that could be blown away with the gust of wind, but he could see flashes of future days filled with trying to find a million different ways to make her smile, where he would taste the sweetness of her lips until he could memorize it on his tongue, a thousand mornings waking up next to her and greeting the day with the loveliness of her face. He could spend the rest of his life unraveling the mystery that was Leandra and suddenly it felt like something clicked. He finally had a dream, that wasn't just of survival. He was taken back by the fierceness of how he wanted it. He knew his whole life had just rearranged course, but he had no uncertainty that he would pursue this future. He didn't know what it would look like, but he would do anything to make sure to fight for every second with her. He knew all too well all the reasons it could end, but she belonged with him. He knew it with his entire being. It was only minutes since they had been apart but he was already searching for her face in the crowd, wondering if she was searching for him, too.

"Am I going to mess this up?" his voice cracked a little as his fingers clenched and unclenched, his hand feeling empty without hers, the thought of it being permanently so a thought he couldn't bear.

Carver squeezed Malcolm's shoulder. "It's not important that you mess up. We all do. What's important is what you do to make it right."

Malcolm looked at his friend, seeing age starting to show in the wrinkles in the smile lines. Malcolm nodded, feeling the unease in his gut start to lessen. He could always count on Carver for sage advice.

Carver then looked over Malcolm's shoulders and tensed up, pushing Malcolm aside as he tore across the ballroom to stop Meredith Stannard who was taking a fistful of Taylor's dress and intimidating the mage for information.

Malcolm ran after Carver, hot on his heels.

"Knight-Lieutenant! What is the meaning of this?" Carver's voice boomed across the palace as he approached the mage's table where Enchanter Jakoby seemed to be trying and failing to reason with Meredith.

Meredith released her hold on Taylor forcefully, squaring back her shoulders but held her glare, strands of bright blond hair falling into her cold blue eyes. Everybody knew Meredith's story, though it was never to be brought up in her presence. Her sister was a mage and her family had tried to hide it. However, she turned into an abomination and Meredith was the only survivor of her family. She was brought to the Circle for training as a fresh-faced teen, having no other kin that could take her in, and she brought her distrust of mages with her. "It's this mage's fault. She brought the spirits to the party with that little Fade show of hers."

Taylor was shivering, keeping her eyes to the ground averting them from Meredith. Malcolm gritted his teeth, knowing that she would have a difficult time even speaking at this point, but he felt powerless to do anything but watch with the growing crowd. He knew any action no matter how mild would be seen as insurrection.

Thankfully Carver stepped forward, making sure to use his body to shield Taylor from Meredith's sight. "What evidence do you have Knight Lieutenant?"

Meredith snorted as if it was a joke. "Logic, obviously. She summoned the Fade here and brought with her the spirits."

Taylor wrenched her fingers together, the neck of her dress still in wrinkles from where she was grabbed. She kept her eyes low as she tapped Carver to get his attention. "I tried to tell her it was just a simple illusion spell, just a trick of light. Whatever happened with the haunting, my show was just a coincidence."

"Or cleverly disguised blood magic," Meredith retorted.

At the words 'blood magic,' a rush of whispers hushed through the crowd as they all glared with Taylor with renewed distrust.

Enchanter Jakoby stepped forward, pleading with the Knight-Captain. "That accusation is ridiculous. Taylor practiced that spell in my classroom countless times and there were no Fade disturbances." Enchanter Jakoby glared at Meredith, straightening his tie. "You must conduct a proper investigation, Knight-Lieutenant, or risk overlooking the real cause."

Meredith's nostrils flared as she took a menacing step forward, hand on her gun. "Are you telling me how to do my job?"

Carver straightened his shoulders, towering over her with a growl. "No, I am." He pointed to the crowd. "I want interviews of all the staff, the guards, and whoever else was conscious when the Veil shifted. No one is to go home without being interviewed or scheduling one. I want thorough reports on my desk come morning. Is that clear, Knight-Lieutenant?"

She opened her mouth, her face reddening but she bit back her response with the snap of her jaw. "Yes, Ser," but then her icy cold gaze turned haughty as she looked at her wards. "Should I start with the mages?"

Carver shook his head. "I will be conducting the mage interviews starting with Malcolm." Everyone's eyes snapped to Malcolm, and he felt himself shrinking, not sure what Carver was going to say next, especially with the way he was grinning at him. "He was instrumental in healing the Veil and I think it will be key to our investigation."

Enchanter Jacoby's eyes shot up in surprise as Malcolm's fellow students broke down in whispers. Some among the crowd of nobles that were all now looking at him with renewed interest.

Meredith scoffed in disbelief. "That lazy elf did no such thing."

Malcolm knew his grades were pitiful but if they only knew how many demons he slayed while everyone else was snoring they'd shut up quick. Malcolm opened his mouth about to say something snarky in retort when a gauntlet covered it, muffling his reply.

Carver smiled all teeth. "Knight-Lieutenant were there any casualties reported?"

Meredith narrowed her eyes and sniffed sharply. "Fortunately not."

Carver smiled truly at that and looked at Malcolm like a proud father, removing his hand from Malcolm's mouth to pat him fondly on the shoulder. "Then perhaps we should thank this elf?" Then Carver bowed his head in respect, causing the other nobles to renew their murmuring. "It could have been much worse without your aid. We templars are in your debt."

Malcolm felt a strange puffing in his chest that swelled. Pride? Ego? Still, he liked the way the nobles had looked at him for the first time with respect. But Malcolm knew that more questions would come. They would want answers and Malcolm knew he could give none that would not eventually lead to his doom, especially with a bloodhound like Meredith sniffing around him.

"What did he even do?" Meredith raised an unbelieving eyebrow, inspecting Malcolm with an icy glare.

"That I already know," Carver smiled serenely. "What you must now concern yourself with, Knight-Lieutenant, is what everyone else knows. Dismissed."

Malcolm snorted. He did love when Carver pulled rank. He could see Meredith start to implode, her face reddening as she struggled not to argue but she reluctantly gritted her teeth and stormed off barking orders to her nearest junior.

Carver then turned to Taylor who was still shivering, giving her space, but keeping his authoritative soothing tone. "Are you alright, Taylor?"

Taylor nodded, her eyes bleary looking like she was blinking back tears. She turned her face away from everyone and sniffed. "Thank you, Carver."

Carver's warm brown eyes flooded with guilt. "Not at all, I should have got here sooner." He turned to Enchanter Jakoby who stepped forward. "Please keep your students near the mages table. I will come for you all one by one for your testimonies."

Enchanter Jakoby nodded. "Of course, Knight-Captain." Then he began gathering his students, starting with Taylor, and led them back to their designated seats.

Carver sighed, released the tension in his shoulders as he pressed a pressure point between his eyebrows. "You do know that I'll have to get your testimony later and that I'll need some actual answers from you."

That's when Malcolm tensed up again. "I was kind of hoping I already gave it to you."

Carver snorted. "Nice try, Hawke." He then placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Now, let's go get your girl before you drag me into more trouble."

Malcolm grinned at that thought. He loved the sound of that. His girl.

Mara thankfully found Leandra before her parents or Guillaume did and she quickly brought her up to speed about the situation with her and Gamlen in a quiet corner away from peering eyes.

Leandra was grateful that she had time before meeting her parents, a chance to breathe before she pulled off the biggest deception of her life.

"So Gamlen told them," Mara looked happy but from the breathy tone and the crease of her brow, she had some worries. "We're officially dating in everyone's eyes. They were…not happy."

Leandra cringed inwardly, secretly hoping that her parents would somehow be reasonable but she smiled brightly and squeezed Mara's hand. "They will be one day."

A flicker of doubt washed over Mara's face before she smoothed it into a smile. "Maybe," she dropped her eyes before the mischief returned to them. "Sooooo, did anything happen with dream guy?"

Warmth flooded to Leandra's cheeks but she couldn't keep the smile off her face. She wondered if she should tell Mara about the accident, about how Malcolm got hard on her thigh, but Mara would want to dissect every detail of that so she decided to save that for later and said, "He wants me to ditch the Ball with him to go to another party."

Mara squealed, the sound echoing through the palace, drawing stares before Leandra smacked her hand over her friend's mouth. Mara pulled Leandra's hand away looking almost feral. "And you're going? Prim and proper Leandra is ditching her own party?"

Leandra realized how unspeakably rude it was to ditch her own party. "I mean…maybe I should stay until the party's officially over."

Mara scoffed. "Please, who's partying right now?" She gestured around the templars and guardsman all scheduling interviews with the nobles and pulling servers into spare rooms for interrogations.

Leandra bit her bottom lip. Unable to argue with her point.

"Leandra?" Guillaume's voice sounded behind them.

Leandra stiffened, scarcely turning around before she was swept up in a hug. "Ma cherie. Thank the Maker, you're safe."

Leandra was not able to help comparing his embrace from Malcolm's. It felt too suffocating, intrusive, and Leandra felt like his Orlesian cologne was a touch too strong. She felt herself panic, knowing it would be difficult to get away with his attentive eye.

"I'm glad you're safe, too," was all she could manage to mutter as she met Mara's knowing gaze.

"Your parents are in the Guard Captain's office looking for you," he wrapped his hand into Leandra's. "We should go and inform them that you're safe at once. They are worried sick."

"And probably threatening a lawsuit," Mara added with amusement.

He then turned to Mara with a twinkle in his eye, "I believe congratulations are in order, Miss Hartling." He stuck out his hand cordially. "I believe you and Gamlen are well suited for each other."

Mara raised her eyebrows in surprise at Guillaume's genuine tone and allowed the handshake, a conflicted tense smile on her face.

Leandra shrunk with her hand in his, wondering how it would be best to ditch him. That's when Guillaume's parents showed up behind him, looking at Leandra warily for a reason she couldn't fathom.

"Guillaume," his Mother snapped, holding out her arm for him to take. "Thank the Maker I caught up to you. This place has been marked by evil. We must come away before we're tainted."

Guillaume looked torn at the thought of leaving Leandra. "Please allow me to drop Lady Amell off with her parents. It's only proper."

Lady de Launcet seemed to want to argue that point but she couldn't find one when she opened her mouth. Instead she glared at Leandra as if she somehow caused this.

Her husband took her arm instead and with a thin smile he said, "Then let us escort you."

Leandra bowed her head respectfully, even though she wanted to scream. "Thank you, my Lord and Lady."

The procession towards the Guard Captain's office was slow, Lord and Lady de Launcet taking the lead as Guillaume and Leandra followed dutifully behind, arm and arm. Mara shadowed Leandra's steps in time with her own as they winded down the halls back to the more judicial areas of the palace. Leandra couldn't help but hope that she wouldn't be whisked away home leaving Malcolm waiting somewhere all alone.

The grand tall ceilings arched into more angular buttresses as they approached The Viscount's Hall, where every major judicial ruling passed. The militia also had their main base in this wing, the Barracks housing hundreds of soldiers.

Guards, who gave the family a respectful berth, were scurrying around the palace like chickens with their heads cut off, their faces haunted by the events that just transpired. Hauntings were unfortunately common in places like Kirkwall where the Veil was so thin. Countless tragedies had stripped the Veil of its strength, the templars the only shield against the demons that would sometimes slip through. A haunting this severe, with so much activity, was a little more unusual. A single spirit slipping through might be common but for so many would take the aid of something dark like blood magic. But who would attack? And why stop so suddenly?

They entered the Barracks where Gamlen was perched near a pillar, by the front entrance. He didn't even look up at them as they entered the wing. There was a deep frown etched on his face and he was looking distinctly out of place, compared with all the guards in their full suits of armor.

"Lord Amell," Lady de Launcet called out, which caused Gamlen to jump.

He then bowed his head respectfully to them. "My lord. My lady."

"I don't suppose we could impose upon you to finish delivering your sister to your parents?" Lady de Launcet then motioned for Leandra to come forward.

Leandra stiffened in one moment, not liking the idea of being handed off like some prize at a country fair but she realized this would be her chance to escape and she released Guillaume's arm and stepped forward only for him to stop her.

"Should we not deliver her straight to her parents?" he asked.

"Do not argue with me, young man," Lady de Launcet said sternly. "She is perfectly safe with her brother. Isn't she?" She looked pointedly at Gamlen who straightened up at inspection.

"Sure," Gamen offered shortly.

"Delightful," she motioned Leandra forward impatiently.

Leandra took the chance and stepped beside her brother, Mara following close behind.

Lady de Launcet curtsied as her husband bowed. "Forgive me for cutting things so short, but we must be going now."

Leandra curtsied back, not able to say her reply before the de Launcets hurried off rather hastily.

Guillaume stepped forward, taking her hand in his and putting a chaste kiss on her knuckle. "I'm sorry the night ended like this, but it will be an interesting story to tell to our children, won't it?"

Leandra squeaked, her dream of her own nug children staring back at her. She couldn't comment on that so she simply said, "Of course. Good night, Guillaume."

Guillaume smiled sadly before chasing his parents down the stairs and out into the night.

Gamlen's shoulders collapsed, his face flooding with relief as he planted a kiss right on her waiting mouth. He grinned against her lips as Leandra looked away to give them privacy. "I love that we can do that in public, now."

Mara peered up at him, grabbing his tuxedo by the lapels. "Me, too. Even if your mom keeps making ogre eyes at me."

Gamlen grinned back, the deep frown lines that were usually etched in his face soft and pliant under Mara's gaze. "That's the best part." Mara snorted, giggling as she swatted him playfully.

Leandra smiled serenely. She was truly happy for them, that seed of envy seemed to shrivel up inside her with the knowledge a pair of golden eyes was waiting for her. Still, she noticed that there was a hardness in Gamlen's gaze as he looked at Mara, almost like he was scared.

He tucked some hair falling out of Mara's bun behind her ear with care, his lips in a tense line. "Can I talk to my sister for a second? We have some family business to discuss."

Mara rolled her eyes. "Anything you say to Leandra she'll just tell me later, so why bother?"

A tick flickered in Gamlen's square jaw as his blue eyes met Leandra's in worry. "That's her business." He quickly recovered with a smile, but it was far too tense to reassure either of them as he dug through his pocket for his wallet to hand Mara a twenty silver bill. "Go pick up something sweet from the vending machine. It won't be long."

Mara tutted, as the bill slid into her hands. She looked over at Leandra with a worried expression. "Want anything?" she asked, lingering between the siblings, her fingers crinkling the crisp bill between her fingers.

"Maybe something with strawberries?" Leandra asked knowing they'd probably have something sweet stocked.

Mara nodded, slinking away, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she disappeared down to the lobby where the vending machines would be kept.

Leandra looked at her brother, finding that his shoulders had risen to his ears as he clenched his hands in a broil of emotions.

"They're firing Mara."

All the wind was sucked from Leandra's lungs and she swayed at the news. She knew her parents would be unhappy, but to resort to this? Mara had been born to her position as Leandra had been born to hers. She was a constant in her life since she was a child, always there to dry her eyes, made her laugh through her tears. No matter how petty her complaints were, Mara never made her feel silly about her feelings. The thought of living without Mara made her breath stutter in her chest.

Leandra squared her shoulders, a sense of urgency running through her as she considered all her options. "I'll reason with them."

Gamlen snorted. "You weren't there when I broke the news." He gritted his teeth, his eyes glazing over as he recalled the memory, gesturing to his cheek, the tawny skin deepening in a bruise. "Mom smacked me. Told me she'd disown me if I went through with this."

"She didn't," the words escaped her before she could stop them and Gamlen glared.

"They told me they were going to make a call to the lawyers tomorrow to revisit their will," Gamlen's nostrils flared as a deep guttural grunt sounded from the back of his throat. "Not that I care. They haven't given a shit about me since I was a teenager. You just can't let them do this to Mara."

"And I won't," Leandra took Gamlen's hands and squeezed. He was putting on a good front but his fingers were trembling. "But you have to know, Mom and Dad do care about you."

Gamlen's shoulders tightened, snatching away his hand. "They haven't for a long time."

Leandra's heart ached, hearing the brokenness in his anger. "Gamlen-" But then he glared, shutting up whatever she wanted to say.

"Stop trying to give me therapy. You don't understand," he snapped.

Leandra flinched, looking down at her hands, knowing he was right. She lowered her gaze in shame.

Quickly, all the anger deflated out of Gamlen, and he sucked in his breath as he struggled to find his next words. "Just focus on Mara. I can't lose her." His voice sounded frail, scared.

Leandra found the jelly in her spine solidify in resolve as she looked at her brother. She pulled him down into a hug which he resisted at first, but after a few moments allowed it. "I can't lose her either," Leandra murmured against his ear. Then she pulled away, looking up at him.

He was averting his gaze, seeming embarrassed by her affection. "I'll think of something," she said squeezing his hand.

Gamlen's lips creased into a thin line but he nodded, accepting her answer.

Then Leandra marched past him and downstairs into the Barracks, where her parents were no doubt torturing the Guard Captain. As her hand slid down the marble railing, she quickly prepared a series of arguments that she could use on her behalf. Leandra was used to being Gamlen's advocate growing up, and she had found she was always dragged into the role of mediator. She knew her parents would somewhat listen to her, though she would have to prepare an airtight defense.

Her mother was a famous lawyer, who had a pretty impressive record for how many convictions she won, and her father was a rather prominent politician, being groomed as the successor for the Viscount's chair. Neither had much tolerance for petty emotions. If there was a flaw in her logic, or if she stepped too far into the territory of emotional pleas she knew she would lose this battle. No, she would need to present her case logically, as the best choice for everyone.

She could hear her Mother's sharp shrill voice rattling the crystal glass of the Guard-Captain's office as the dark heavy oak door had been left slightly ajar.

"Take my word, Guard-Captain, if my daughter is not home safe come morning I will hold this whole office personally responsible," Leandra pressed her head against the glass, her fingers trembling against the brass doorknob. "And believe me I can tie up your office with so much litigation you'll need to hire more assistants to help you with the paperwork!"

"And I will have a press conference come morning calling for your head, for the incompetence of losing the heir of my house in plain sight of a whole squadron!" Leandra's father's booming voice came next in harmony with the double attack that her parents had learned to perfect over the years.

She swallowed down the rest of her fear, pushing herself inside before her parents could threaten a lawsuit or something worse.

"Mother! Father!" she smiled brightly, but her dress was already sticking to her back from the sweat that suddenly started pouring from her. "There's no need for that! I'm fine."

Her mother collapsed into her father in relief, clutching a red silk cloth in her hands as the frazzled Guard-Captain stayed trapped behind his giant office desk. The aging man offered a yellowing smile that was tired as he gestured a pudgy finger towards Leandra. "I told you, you were being pre-emptive. She was probably just in the lady's room."

Her mother scowled, wrinkling the red silk in her hand with a clench. "We looked in the lady's room and no one saw you. Where were you? Explain!"

Leandra hesitated, realizing that her first believable excuse had been taken.

"I felt feverish…after the dance," she averted her gaze to the thick brocade carpets that decorated the small space, unsure if her lie was even believable. "I went out in the garden to cool off and rest."

"Without an escort?" her father snapped. "What if something happened to you?"

Leandra caught herself mid eye roll and plastered on a diplomatic smile. "Are we not safe in the most fortified building of our city with a whole array of armed guards?"

Her father's nostrils flared. "Clearly not if there's demons pouring out of the walls. You should have stayed close."

Her mother placed a hand on her father's arm. "Aristride, I know you're scared but it's important we remain calm."

The older man seemed to audibly swallow his anger. "You're right, let's focus on what's important."

Her mother stepped forward, brushing Leandra's cheeks with the back of her hand. "Should we call a doctor to check that fever?"

Leandra tried not to panic. They had a family doctor that had no problem taking midnight calls and she was very nosy. She relied on her fever because it was convenient but Doctor Waller charged by the hour and so always was extra "thorough." "That won't be necessary. I believe I just need to retire for the night and get some rest."

Her parents exchanged worried glares. "I believe that's for the best," her father nodded. "We'll be due for a cleansing at the Circle, tomorrow."

"The Circle?" Leandra cocked her head, wondering how many times fate would throw Malcolm in her path.

Her mother nodded primly. "Yes, I think we're all due after being exposed to all this corruption."

"Wonderful," Leandra sighed, clenching inwardly for the fight that was sure to come. "I'll inform Mara of the changes in my schedule. She'll have me ready early morning."

She coached her smile to give nothing away as her parents looked at each other with weariness and intertwined their hands, stepping together in unison as if it was choreographed. "We have decided to let Mara go," her father started.

Leandra kept the fury from her face. She hoped that Gamlen had been mistaken. Still, she was grateful that Gamlen warned her for she would have misstepped almost immediately if she had been caught off guard. "Mother. Father. I believe in light of the circumstances you might be acting hasty in your decision." She folded her hands as she presented her case. "Mara has never been late, always goes above and beyond in her duties, and her family has been with ours for so long she is family."

"She's not the only servant who has served us for a long time. She's not that special," her Mother retorted.

This time the anger did show on Leandra's face but she managed to keep her head. "What even is the cause for this if it's not retaliatory?"

Her parents also kept their heads, though they both seemed annoyed to having been questioned. Her mother sniffed. "We believe Mara has been putting silly ideas in your brother's head."

"Which ones?" Leandra found herself raising her voice to an almost impolite level. "The one where she convinced him to go back to business school. Or how about when she helped check him into rehab." She shook her head, thinking of all the countless smarter decisions her brother had made since Mara inspired him to. "Do you not think you might be judging the situation a little preemptively?"

Both of her parents scowled as if those reminders were just footnotes. "I believe we are judging the situation just fine," her father flared, his face reddening a shade darker. "And do you not think it inappropriate to bring that up in such company." He then glanced pointedly at the Guard Captain who was busy reading the paperwork on his desk to avoid looking at the Amells' fight.

Leandra sniffed sharply, trying to suppress the glare at the hypocrisy of her parents. "Then perhaps we should allow the Guard-Captain to return to his very important duties and have this discussion somewhere else."

The Guard-Captain looked relieved at that suggestion. Her parents seemed miffed that Leandra was taking charge of the situation but they both bowed their heads as was proper. "Good night, Captain," her Father said stiffly and guided his wife out the open door where Leandra patiently waited. When her parents stepped through, she shot an apologetic smile to the Guard-Captain and closed the door behind her.

Her parents led her up the stairs and Leandra thought her parents might wait until they got somewhere private but her mother said, "This is not a discussion." She didn't bother to look back at Leandra as she held her husband's hand. "I already have candidates in mind and you will choose a new Lady-In-Waiting tomorrow."

She could see the smug grins on their faces over their shoulders, the haughty way they held their shoulders in triumph like this was over, and it set Leandra fuming. "And I'm too busy to train a new lady's maid," she kept her voice level, but she could feel her temper rising like a pot in a kettle about to blow. "No one knows me like Mara. No one is as thorough or hardworking either."

Her mother stiffened, stopping on a step to look down at Leandra with a haughty glare. "Are you not bringing your bias into this?"

Leandra had to keep herself from laughing but still, a short bark escaped. "You want to speak to me of bias?"

Her mother's eyes darkened as she stiffened her posture. "This is not a discussion," she repeated and continued up the stairs.

Leandra found herself shaking as she walked up the steps to see Mara and Gamlen waiting by the banister with their fingers intertwined sharing a coke. Her heart ached when she noticed that sitting on the ledge was a bag of strawberry hard candies Mara had snagged from the vending machine, her favorite. Mara often brought these when Leandra was working, since they carried the same brand at her office, without even prompting, because that was Mara. Maybe it was her job to care, but Mara cared with all her heart. She couldn't imagine starting over with some stranger, letting someone else on all the private details of her life. She couldn't lose Mara. She wouldn't lose Mara.

Her parents cornered the couple with clasped hands, openly glaring at Mara and Gamlen's blatant display. When they saw her parents approach they both stiffened, Gamlen deflating, his eyes searching for Leandra for hope. Gamlen looked like he wanted to drop Mara's hand but he held strong when he saw the confidant smile on his sister's face.

Mara curtsied and dipped her head, lowering her gaze to the ground. "My Lord. My Lady."

Bethann Amell sharpened her lips into a razor smile and said, "Mara, we do have a change in the household to discuss."

Mara looked at Leandra in panic, sensing the strange tension in the air. "And what is that?"

Leandra stepped between her parents with her head held high, and without missing a beat she said, "As the new heir to the Amell, I will be taking over responsibility for your salary."

Mara, Gamlen, and her parents all bugged their eyes out her sockets, and Leandra kept her serene smile, meeting her parent's eyes as she added, "And I'm giving her a raise."

"With what money?" Her father piped up, face so red it almost matched the color of his suit. "We'll cut off your allowance!"

Leandra squared her shoulders. "I make more than enough with the salary I make at my job. Thank you very much." She then realized she had no tension in her body, and she was buzzing from her head all to her toes. Somehow just dancing with Malcolm gave her confidence she didn't know she could feel. "And Mara, Gamlen, and I are leaving now. I'll see you tomorrow at the Cleansing."

Gamlen's jaw stayed gape as Mara looked at Leandra with a mixture of amusement and awe. Her parents both looked so shocked that Leandra had just stood up to them that they had gone pale, each looking to the other for the words that were both failing them, their mouths opening and closing like confused fish.

Leandra didn't wait for her parents to find those words. She grabbed Mara's hand and marched away from her parents, feeling more alive than ever. She had her friend by her side and a handsome man waiting for her. There was nothing that could stop her tonight.