There were no windows that she could get to, slip out of. Still, Finley searched the upper reaches of the hall. She'd tried reaching the rafters, but she couldn't find purchase on the walls. They were impossibly smooth, and even a running jump couldn't get her close enough.

She'd tried, over and over.

Sometimes it felt like the world itself wasn't quite real. Like it moved against her. The eaves moved away from her when she nearly reached them, and then, as she fell back, she would find one of a dear, dear few waiting for her.

Ser Caudry. Ser Neil. Ser Ross. Mathel. Aubrey. Ja'leese.

Cullen.

Every person she'd ever let her guard down around. Every person who'd used that lowered guard to stab her in the back.

It…

This wasn't real. They weren't real.

Finley knew that they were some illusion conjured by blood or demons or both, but she couldn't figure out how to make them stop.

If she could just find someone else, someone to regroup with, to rely on.

Near as she could tell, she had to be in the lower reaches of Adamant Fortress, though the building materials were strange, imbued with magic. It was so familiar, and yet she couldn't place it.

The halls here were more like caves now. She had to be going deeper down. How long until she ran into darkspawn? Where were the others? Was she the only one who'd fallen? The fortress had been collapsing and…

And it was a blur after that. She'd woken up to Mathel strangling her.

No. Not Mathel. A demon pretending to be him. He would have never hurt her like that.

Without thinking, she reached up to rub her neck.

"Did you really think you could get away?"

Cullen's voice rang out behind her. The sound of greaves clicking against the rocky floor echoed toward her, the pace a saunter.

Without bothering to look back, she darted down a side passage. She needed to find somewhere to regroup, where these things couldn't find her for just a little while.

Then she could make a plan. She could get control of the situation if she could just get away.

The new passageway she'd gone down turned and ended abruptly. Dark as it was, there was still an eerie, ambient green light, taunting her with the shadowed crevices of the walls around her.

Fuck.

She could hear those footfalls coming. Slow as they were, they were always gaining on her.

Slinking up to the furthest part of the wall from the turn, she hunched low and nocked her bow.

It wasn't Cullen.

She knew that.

She'd killed a few of these illusions already—a new one appeared as soon as the old one fell, which was why she'd opted to run instead of waste her energy slaying creatures that looked like the ones she'd loved so completely.

The thought in and of itself caught her a little off guard. That whatever this was—a demon, likely—was using Cullen…

Did she…?

She shook it off as a figure stepped around the corner and fired.

A shield caught her arrow before it could pierce her target. As Cullen simply tossed the shield aside, Finley forgot that she needed to ready another arrow.

He was worse than the other illusions. It wasn't just someone who had hurt her. He was…

His eyes were tainted red and red lyrium twisted out from under his armor. Red veins ran across his body, and one of his arms was twisted, little more than lyrium at this point.

A cruel smile played on his lips as he approached her, weapon made of red lyrium. "Like I would ever let a blood mage run the inquisition."

It wasn't him.

It wasn't him, but the words still hurt. To hear them in his voice, to see him in this state…

It…hurt.

As he charged her, she dodged out of the way and caught him in a rooting spell. An arrow to the back of his neck made his form shift into shadows.

How many times had she killed her loved ones now?

How many times had she seen him fall to red lyrium or demons or demonic possession or just…decide that she wasn't someone who could be trusted.

Each time he died, the image stayed with her. Whatever was making these was far better at replicating those she knew than Envy had been.

The gasps for breath, the startled cries as he fell to the ground, before the illusion dispersed, it dug into her heart.

She didn't want him to hurt, didn't want it to be her fault.

Screwing her eyes shut, she pressed her palms against her eyes.

"It's not him. It's not him. You know it's not him."

"What's the matter, love?"

Jerking back to the present, her heart sank as she stared at the latest conjured image. Cullen looked at her, half of his face missing from rot and signs of decay pocking the rest of his features. "Did you think we'd have a happily ever after? Did you think something like you could ever have a happily ever after?"

Finley smashed the vision in the face with her bow and then whirled away, running as fast as she could.

She had to get out.

Or just stop seeing these awful things.

She had to find a way—

Cullen slammed into her from nowhere, his shield hitting her hard and sending her crashing into the wall. She gasped as she felt jagged rocks dig into her ribs.

This place was a nightmare.

"I will not be fooled by some blood mage, parading around as a hero."

Her side hurt. Rolling out of the way of another blow, she fired another arrow, killing the latest iteration of her general. Feeling her side, she shuddered as she drew her fingers back to see blood.

It always made her sick to see blood on her fingers. It felt like she was going to fall to blood magic somehow. Thinking of how Cole had helped her fight envy, she struggled not to think of anything personal, to blank her mind on empty places, places she'd wandered through without much interest, arbitrary trades and interactions.

Things that meant nothing.

Closing her eyes, she healed herself, and then reached to one of the bags on her hips. She hadn't wanted to use any of her spells that required reagents. She hadn't wanted to resort to spells like this. She knew the building was in a state of disrepair and damaging it more could easily bring it toppling down on her.

That said, she couldn't keep running around like this.

She'd just have to risk that she could move faster than falling rocks.

Taking a few seeds from her pouch, she drew a few symbols on the ground quickly and then dropped the seeds in the center. Taking her bow, she slammed one end into the ground, channeling as much magic a she dared. The air crackled around her.

She hoped the wall would be thin enough for this to work.

The seeds burst into plants, oak and chesnut branches slamming into one of the walls, punching a way out.

Even that couldn't be seen as much of a victory.

As the branches faded out, the wall was already repairing itself.

Finley flung herself through the disappearing hole, cursing when her hair caught in the mending wall. With a quick flick of a spell, she was free and running.

However, she barely made it a few feet before she stopped dead in her tracks.

This was not Adamant Fortress.

Dark green rocks stretched out as far as she could see in wiry, winding paths. Some hung suspended in the air, twirling lazily in the void around them.

For there was a void.

What she could see below, beyond, above—

Looking up, she paled when she saw the outline of an all too familiar city hanging in the sky a black silhouette against that infinite, empty space.

She'd known she was…somewhere with demons, somewhere she shouldn't be, but this…

She was in the Fade.

Physically.

Again.

As her stomach lurched, a sharp, explosive pain shot through her from just below that pit inside her. She brought her hand up slowly and looked down to see the end of a blade protruding from her abdomen.

She should have moved, should have cast, should have done something, but the whole of this was just too much. Instead, she simply stared down, watching her blood drip down from that hateful metal and stain down her shirt.

The blade withdrew as suddenly as it had hit her, and she stumbled forward, managing a healing spell without much thought. While it stopped the bleeding, she felt like most of her energy had bled out instead.

Still, she gripped her bow and raised it, intent on ending this newest illusion.

A soft sob escaped her lips, and Ser Caudry smirked, cleaning his blade as he stepped casually toward her. "I should have put you down when I found you in the woods." He shook his head when Finley staggered backwards, trying to put distance between them. "How many people died for you? How many are dying? Ser Neil, Mathel, Aubrey, your mother." He motioned off vaguely. "All those soldiers you tricked into thinking you're some miracle, when we both know what you are." He spit on the ground. "A mistake."

Raising her bow, she nocked an arrow, only to have to dodge backwards as another blade swung toward her.

One of her other templars stood there. Ser Neil's throat was slit, his expression cold. His hair was matted and sweat clung to his skin, his pallor awful.

The way it had been when the templars had caught them when he'd tried to escape with her into the mountains to give her to the Avvar.

"And Finley?"

She cringed again, trying not to get distracted by the faces around her. They weren't real. They weren't…

Ser Ross walked over to lean on Ser Neil's shoulder as Ser Caudry moved to join them. Her templars. Her heroes. Her first real family.

Ser Ross shook his head. "You wouldn't let us call you that, but somehow it's good enough for you now?"

"How much blood is on your hands?" Ser Caudry asked.

Managing a step back, Finley brought her bow up again, shooting Ser Neil first. Instantly, the other two charged. Whirling around, she started to run only to freeze in place as she found herself face to face with Mathel.

His eyes were black, and he bore injuries from the darkspawn he'd fought off. The Blight darkened his veins.

"Is running all you do? You sacrifice those around you just as clearly as if you were a blood mage."

Finley ducked out of the way, stumbling away from them.

She couldn't deal with this many… Maybe she should have stayed in those damn halls and caves.

Even if she could fight this many on her own, knowing that she would have to watch them die... Not now, not again.

Would there be more like there had been before? She didn't have the energy, emotional or otherwise, to keep up this fight.

A shield slammed into her, and she smacked into the wall she'd come through. A foot stomped down on her shoulder, holding her in place.

Finley gasped for breath, the weight of a plated boot pushing down further, grinding her into the dirt.

"You're not real."

Ser Caudry scoffed. Mathel leaned down, gripping her hair and jerking her head up. "Does it matter? You're hardly real yourself. No name, no family, no nothing. You might as well not exist."

"And yet she's the one that makes it out, every time." Ser Caudry's voice held such resentment. Such hatred.

"I…saved Ser Caudry."

"Did you?" The demon wearing his guise scoffed. "What do you think happened to him after you were gone? Do you think they let him stay in the Order? Your commander told you what happens to templars who are expelled. Letting him die would have been far more merciful than what you sentenced him to."

"No…"

The things they were saying were nothing more than fears that had cropped up in her mind over the years. That Mathel would hate her, that Ser Caudry might have ended up with lyrium withdrawal. The demons were simply using her fears against her.

She knew that. She knew that this wasn't real, that it was a trick.

So how did they still have so much power over her?

Clenching her fist, the mark crackled. The three around her fell back, stunned, though they didn't loose their illusions. Finley managed to get back to her feet, looking around for her bow.

Mathel wouldn't have blamed her for what he did. She hadn't wanted him to. It had been his choice. She just needed to keep her mind blank, to stay detached, to—

"You are a curse on this world." Ser Caudry caught her by the neck and hoisted her off the ground, lips pulled into a tight snarl. "You have a way with people. You make them into fools. You—"

Something swung into the side of his neck, interrupting his accusations. The form dispersed, and Finley hit the ground, hard. As she gasped for breath, she heard the quiet swish of shadows again. Holding her neck, she looked up and froze.

Her ghosts had been replaced with another.

A desire demon.

Her desire demon.

She stood tall and proud, turning slowly so that her slit gaze could survey their surroundings, looking for something. When she was satisfied that whatever she sought was not present, she turned back to Finley, tail swishing behind her.

This…was not an illusion.

"I would have come for you sooner, but I thought you were more capable than this." Her demon brushed away a few wisps of smoke that clung to her, remnants of the illusions she'd killed. "You deal with demons regularly these days, do you not?" When there was no response, her demon looked down at Finley. There was a pause as their gazes met—an agonizing pause where Finley felt so tiny. She could hear panicked birds chirping.

"Enough of that!"

The birds cut off abruptly, and Finley's attention snapped back into focus.

Her demon knelt before her, brow pinched together, making her look most wicked. "You should know that the Fade is formed by will. You are letting yours crumble."

"I can't face this many—"

"You can." She caught Finley's chin and looked her dead in the eyes. When Finley tried to jerk away, the demon's nails pinched into her skin. "You are so good at denying me, why can't you deny the Nightmare?"

"Wh—"

"It is a fear demon you face, and you are feeding it and its ilk exactly what it needs to control you."

Jerking away, Finley stumbled back further than she intended when her demon simply released her. "I'm not!"

"You are terrified!" Her tail snapped behind her, emphasizing her words, slit pupils pale against the darkness in her eyes.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Finley cried out, without thinking. The world was tumultuous, like a storm was rolling in, charging the air with electricity. Everything was sharper, the rocks the taste of the world around her. "They're demons! And I'm in their home! They want to hurt me! I don't—I don't want to end up like her!" She didn't notice the way her demon stopped, straightening up. Finley could barely breathe. It was all too much, the weight of everything, of being in the Fade, the world itself. It was smothering her. "I don't want to lose pieces of myself as something devours me from the inside out! I won't!"

"No, you won't."

The words were quiet, but somehow they cut through her panic.

In a blink, the world was as it had been before she'd started talking, the sharp edges back to normal, the air lighter.

She hadn't realized just how much her panic had been growing inside of her since she'd woken up here until it was gone.

"No demon will ever wear you, little lamb," her demon murmured, gaze downcast, "but for all your stubbornness, you will still fall to one if you don't face your fears."

The irony of the statement made Finley let out a bark of a laugh. This creature, this thing that had tormented her all through her life wanted her to face her fears?

She was the source of Finley's fears!

Wasn't she?

"Your commander is not here."

"I know that."

"Neither are the ones who took you in, the ones who loved you."

"I know." Finley dared a glance around, a thought abruptly occurring to her. Why hadn't they been attacked again? The demons never took this long to reappear.

Was this another illusion after all?

No.

She knew her demon's presence. It was one of the only things she'd been familiar with her whole life.

This was the creature that had murdered her mother. The one who had taken over Aubrey and so many others.

And here she was, giving Finley advice?

She remembered what Solas had said in one of his attempts to talk to her about it. Something about original purposes being distorted and…she wasn't sure why that would come to her now. Even Solas had admitted that her demon was one, that there was no redeeming her.

So why was she helping?

"I help because you are mine, as you always have been."

"Stay out of my head," Finley whispered.

"I can see the doubt plain on your face, little lamb." The desire demon started to reach toward her, as though to stroke her cheek, and then let her hand fall back to her side. "Fight this demon as much as you fight me. Don't let it scare you."

"I know they're not real." Finley finally murmured, shifting around, still looking for more enemies. She heard what sounded like a terror demon in the distance.

"Then how are they hurting you?"

"It's…so long as there's just one or two, I can fight back. I'm not equipped for fighting more than that."

Her demon looked ready to argue, but instead simply sighed. "You should know that you are not the only one to have fallen into the Fade."

The world around them erupted into hazy visions of the past. The Wardens, the good ones who surrendered, the ones who fell, the dragon…

The images around her froze with the fort crumbling, sending her and her allies plummeting into the abyss. They hung, suspended in the air, braced for the fall, reaching to grab purchase from the falling rocks around them.

Solas, Dorian, Blackwall, Varric, Garrett, and Alistair.

Her mind whirred.

If they were in here too…

Solas would likely be fine. Dorian too, she supposed. And Varric…how would this affect him? Dwarves had no connection to the Fade, but if he was here, too…

The others were no mages, their understanding of the Fade would be mediocre at best.

They would be easy prey.

"I'll do what I can to find them and send them to you."

As soon as the words were spoken, her demon was gone.

The sound of boots crunching on gravel and stone broke the eerie silence that fell over her. Finley nocked an arrow, whirling around in time to see Solas and Warden Blackwall come charging around a winding path that she was quite certain hadn't been there a moment before.

They stood there a moment, in a rather terse stand off, weapons held tightly, before Solas finally started toward her. As he did so, a glimmer of light faded away from his hand. "Inquisitor, I am glad to see you well." He paused a second before adding, "We have fallen into the realm of the demon who has been watching you since before Haven fell. That you are not entranced means the ward I made you is still working."

"Entranced?" Finley echoed. She considered the illusions she'd been running from before.

Solas nodded, hurrying over to her and then peering out at the surrounding area, looking for something, much as her demon had. "I saw one of the others from a distance. The Nightmare has entrapped them in horrible dreams. I was trying to find a way to Varric when I stumbled across Warden Blackwall and then realized all of us had come through."

Warden Blackwall shifted his weight, expression grim. "We should move. Those little fear demons can't be too far behind."

Even as he spoke, Finley felt an odd relief sweep over her. She hadn't been able to handle multiple demons at once, but she could do this with the others here. With Solas able to understand this place and Blackwall able to even the playing field…

"Where did you see Varric?"