Note: And finally it's time for a catch up…starting with Elissa.

A sky of smoke hangs high, casting bleakness over the wilderness before me. It is little but crumbled mountains and earth, no trace of life in any direction. The air is arid, burning my throat and cracking my lips. It hurts to breathe, to think, to feel, but still I keep walking. I have walked the endless desert for so very long, yet nothing changes. It only extends into emptiness, revealing no escape.

No hope.

Yet those embers have yet to die inside me. I raise one foot, then the other, again and again and again. Every path has to end. This can be no different. So all I know is the rhythm of my steps, guiding me to no-where.

I do not even remember my name.

The landscape narrows, turning to a slim trail. Only the black abyss awaits below, cast in the same smoky shadows that whisper above. I continue on, stepping onto a bridge of rock. The wind picks up, sending my hair into chaos, and I brush it aside. The breeze also shifts the mist, revealing several islands akin to mine.

And then, at long last, the path ends. A towering gate of obsidian waits for me, intimidating, lifeless. I stare, unsure what to make of it. I pass my hand through, and nothing happens. My breath catches.

Is this truly the…end?

Suddenly the gate flares to life. I step back, mesmerized, when a shadow appears. I brace myself, and the shadow walks free of the light. Before me stands a woman in white robes. Her hood is pulled low, so I cannot see her face properly, but her skin is pale, and a lock of black hair has fallen free. A smile creases her lips.

Remember me, errant warrior?

I frown. Her voice is…familiar, but the memory is so distant as to not even be present.

"I'm no warrior," I declare.

The woman chuckles.

It is not all you are, no, she concedes. But you have forgotten much, and it has left you weak and lonely. As it did the time we first met.

Her tone sends a shiver down my spine. She may recollect that encounter, and I can feel my soul does, too, but…

"How can I remember?" I ask.

You cannot, the woman says, so long as our power is incomplete.

She points to my chest, and a rune appears on my skin. It ignites, and I cry out, clasping my hands around it.

Unite the Shards, the woman instructed, and bring us back to life!

A gale stirs, and her hood flies open. I gawk, a scream trapped in my throat…

…for I am looking at myself.

Elissa grunted, jerked to wakefulness. But she couldn't open her eyes, and she could barely move. Every limb was a dead weight, and sharp pain pierced between her shoulder-blades. Biting back a wince, she focused on her other senses, hoping they would orientate her. The air numbed her ears, but she was well wrapped up, and something warm was locked around her waist. The rhythmic movement of being on horseback also transmitted through her, and that was when she noticed her wrists were bound.

"We're here." Alistair's breath tickled her cheek—it seemed he was the one holding her. Elissa tried to answer, but her lips couldn't form words.

"Wait for me." Bethany sounded so, so weary. "The hypnotic spell should hold, but don't let her go. I'll find Eliza."

Elissa heard the mage dismount, then crunch across snow. With the weather being like this, they must have returned to Skyhold. But Elissa couldn't remember the journey. In fact, she couldn't remember much at all. A heavy fog blanketed her thoughts, and she inwardly grimaced. Bethany's spell must have left her like this.

But why did they tie me up?

"What in the Maker's name…what happened?!"

Leliana's voice broke through, and Alistair's grip tightened.

"Don't wake her," he warned. "Elissa's alive and mostly unhurt, but…" He let out a breath. "Look, for the time-being, we have to keep her guarded. She's under some sort of mind control, she doesn't recognise us as her friends."

Leliana gasped.

"Are you certain? Can it be broken?"

"Bethany's been trying ever since we left Stonewar," Alistair said. "Maybe Lara or Dorian might have better luck."

"Dorian is on a mission still, but Lara is recovering from her journey to Adamant," Leliana said. "Though…she might not be in the best way right now."

"Adamant?" Alistair tensed. "Why was the Inquisition at the old Warden stronghold? I thought you were dealing with affairs in Orlais."

Leliana sighed. "Orlais is the least of our problems right now. And Nathaniel was looking for you, so we opted to aid him in your stead." She licked her lips. "Alas it has been a difficult time, for all of us." She touched Elissa's wrist. "Let us see to Elissa, then we can exchange stories."

Elissa felt Alistair's hold tighten, and then she was lifted into his arms. He dismounted, and she listened to his footfalls as he carried her…somewhere. Maker, if only she could see!

"Not the healing quarters," Alistair said. "Not until we can get her out of the spell. She'll attack anyone on sight. We have to keep her secure."

Words fell away, letting cold silence take over. The frosty breeze vanished, replaced by the scent of smoking torches. Eventually Alistair stopped, and the creak of iron bars echoed. His warmth left Elissa, replaced with a blanket, and she was propped against an icy wall.

"I will watch her," Leliana stated. "You must be exhausted. Go and rest."

"Be careful," Alistair said. "And thanks."

A hand took Elissa's own, squeezing tight, before it vanished. Alistair's steps drifted away, leaving everything in quiet once more. It was shortly broken, however, as something rustled close, and a warm hand came to Elissa's cheek. The caress was enough to lift some of the haze, and at long last Elissa could open her eyes.

As the blur lessened, Leliana's grey-blue gaze stared back. She offered a tentative smile.

"I'm here, mon coeur," she murmured, not letting up her touches.

Elissa managed the smallest of nods, as Leliana pulled her to her chest. The bard gently stroked her back, and Elissa began to shiver. Her chest burned, her throat became impossibly tight, and bitter tears started to fall.

"What's wrong?" Leliana asked.

Elissa could only shake her head, suddenly trembling. A cavernous wound had opened inside; a deep, indescribable ache that set her heart bleeding. The hurt was immeasurable, smothering, suffocating—a nightmare from which she could not escape. But she couldn't for the life of her remember why. Even her Shard wept, sending chilling pulses through her, as if in mourning.

What have I done?

"Oh Elissa." Leliana kissed Elissa's forehead, and Elissa closed her eyes, crying into the bard's shoulder. Leliana held the back of her head, resting her cheek in Elissa's hair. "Hush. You're with me now. It will be alright."

Elissa bit her lip, the salt of her tears burning her cheeks, her breaths coming in staggered gasps.

No…

It will never be alright.

Lahara was curled up on her bed, resting her head on her knees. Eliza's lyrium transfusion had finished a while ago, muting the agony from her Shard, yet she still didn't feel much better. Nathaniel's loss had hit hard enough; however, it was what happened afterwards that shook her to the core. Before Lahara could help him, Justinia had re-appeared and dragged her to the rift. And in those final moments, she had whispered a terrifying truth.

"The Shard will not simply kill you, young mage. It will destroy you, wiping your soul from existence entirely. And…your time…runs short…"

Lahara shivered, folding her arms around herself. The Nightmare had spoken the very same; a truth she'd suspected, though hadn't realised how far-reaching its consequence. The price of her power had at last been revealed—and it was one she couldn't bear.

I don't…

I don't want to die…

She snapped her eyes shut, her bracelet jingling as she dug her nails into her palm. The mere thought stole all the breath from her lungs, and she held her head in her hands. Death had always lurked in the back of her mind, but it had never really been a tangible thing. On the run from the Templars, surviving the Conclave, the dust monsters, the dark future, even the fall of Haven; every close escape had instilled false confidence that nothing could touch her, or even could.

Now that was rudely shattered, and never had she feared dying so much. Not when she had no idea how much time she had left. Not when she wouldn't simply die, but be erased as if she had never been. And not when she still had so much—and someone—to live for.

How…

How am I going to tell Beth?

And if I disappear, what's going to happen to Joseph?

Will you break apart into nothingness as well?

I can't…

A knock echoed, breaking her thoughts. No sooner had it faded than the door opened, and steps approached. Lahara didn't move, not caring that her caller hadn't awaited a response. It was probably Eliza coming to check on her.

"Lara?"

Bethany's soft tones drifted through, and Lahara snapped her head up. The dark-haired mage was indeed standing before her, but when their eyes met, the Herald's heart only broke further. Bethany's caramel gaze was dulled, and her whole body sang with weariness. She was hurting, too.

Sighing, Bethany crossed the distance to Lahara's bedside. A brief silence took over, until Bethany clasped Lahara's hand. The warmth of her palm provoked more tears, and Lahara looked away, the ache in her chest redoubling. She had wanted to see Bethany more than anything, feel her touch and hear her voice, but when it came with the realisation she'd soon never have any of it again…

"Is everything okay?" Bethany asked.

Lahara remained quiet. Reluctantly she released the mage's hand, wiping her tears. Then she straightened up, coming to the edge of the bed. Bethany sat beside her, and Lahara wrapped an arm around her waist. They held each other for a long moment, when Bethany touched the Herald's cheek.

"Something's wrong, I know," the mage said. "It's the Shard, isn't it?"

Lahara managed a nod. A lump had settled in her throat, and she wasn't sure she could trust her voice. She inhaled, meaning to answer, but Bethany pressed her finger to the Herald's lips.

"It's okay." Bethany kissed Lahara's forehead. "You don't have to tell me right now." She entwined her fingers with the Herald's, squeezing gently. "It's…It's not been good for Elissa, either."

Another nod, and Lahara swallowed, stroking Bethany's side. The poor mage had had it rough, indeed. And, as the implications of Justinia's wisdom began to spread, this was only the start. For if the Shard was ripping Lahara's soul apart, it could not be doing any different to Elissa, or Hawke. And poor Bethany was caught right in the middle.

She's…going to lose…everyone…

The weight of such realisation was even more of a crushing blow, and Lahara's tears returned. A choked sob escaped her, and she burrowed into Bethany's chest, clinging to her scent and warmth. Bethany tensed, caught off guard, but quickly returned the embrace.

"I'm here," the mage murmured.

"I'm…sorry," Lahara whispered, her tears unstoppable. "I'll…everything…I just…I need this…right now…" She held Bethany tighter, trembling. "I need…you right now…"

She withdrew slightly, then pressed her lips to Bethany's. Bethany closed her eyes, cupping the Herald's cheek, tenderly stroking with her thumb. Their kiss deepened, and Lahara's breath caught, hungering for the mage's touch. One she hadn't yearned for as badly as she did now. Her fingers roamed, skimming over Bethany's hips, pulling her close.

"I love you," Lahara breathed, resting her brow against Bethany's.

"I love you too, Lara," Bethany murmured, running her fingers down Lahara's shoulders. "So very much."

Lahara blinked away her tears, framing the mage's face with her hands. Though her eyes were lined with exhaustion, her caramel gaze slightly dimmed, Bethany was still as beautiful as ever. Another crack ran through the Herald's chest, and she bit her lip.

How…how can I possibly let her go…

How can I do this to her?!

"I'm sorry," Lahara whimpered, crumpling against Bethany's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry…"

"Lara…" Bethany took Lahara's hand, holding it against her chest. "It's going to be okay. We'll find a way out. I promise."

She leant forward, capturing the Herald in another kiss, and Lahara gave in. Forget the past, forget the future, forget it all; all that mattered was this moment right now. With her blood roaring through her veins, the heat of Bethany's lips against hers, the feel of her in her arms…

Her arms laced around Bethany, and she pulled her onto the bed. The fire of her lips against the mage's only rose, and her fingers made short work of Bethany's shirt. Bethany's moved just the same, her every movement filled with equal desire. Lahara's hands knew no manners, touching and exploring, the mage's warmth fanning the inferno in her chest.

She broke their kiss, softly tracing Bethany's throat with a finger. Bethany shivered, resting her palms against Lahara's chest.

"I've missed you," Bethany whispered, stealing a tender kiss.

"Me too," Lahara murmured back. "So let me make it up to you."