a/n- As I mentioned, this is a HUGE chapter. I actually have not finished all of the "In Hushed Whispers" quest line in this chapter however I felt it necessary content-wise, to break this up. The nice thing about most of the story from here on out is that I have a lot more space to fiddle around. We still have to pick up Iron Bull, whom I've neglected for sake of story variation, but I will be including him soon. He is one of my favorites. Anyway, I won't keep you any longer. Read on, my dear readers, read on.

Of Fate and Futures

"Blood of the Elder One!"

"Where'd they come from?!"

Enya shook her head, attempting to clear away her disorientation. The man's voice sounded muffled, as if he wore a helmet. She drew her sword before he finished his sentence. Though her vision was still blurry, she could make out the outlines of two men in plate armour, swords at the ready. She threw herself into the battle with instinct. The sound of her sword slicing at the surface of their armour grounded her, reminded her that she was not an apparition and still alive. What magic had Alexius done?

As the second of the men fell under her sword with a soft squelch that still made her slightly sick, she turned to Dorian. He watched the burning corpse of his adversary with and intense focus.

"Where are we?" Enya asked and she pulled a key and some coins from the pouch of the man she'd slain.

Dorian didn't answer with anything more than a vague 'hmmm' noise for several moments. The pillar of red lyrium that climbed the wall behind them, glowing and humming set Enya's nerves on edge. She paced while he examined their surroundings, letting her own mind piece together what had happened. A vortex of power, of magic around and amulet…Redcliffe castle had been cold and damp, just like this place, although there had not been water pooled on the floors. Still, she spotted a Mabari statue, they were in Ferelden.

"I think we're still in the castle," Enya commented, "Why would Alexius move us to a different part of the Castle?"

Dorian shook his head, "I doubt it is anything so simple. I interrupted whatever spell he was casting with that amulet. The results cannot be what he intended."

"Perhaps to the closest confluence of arcane energy…" he muttered.

Dorian knelt next to the lyrium, "Ah! The question is not simply where, but when!"

"When?" Enya's eyebrows climbed toward her hairline, "You cannot mean…"

The Tevinter mage rose and looked at her, "I'm afraid so. Alexius probably intended to erase you from time entirely, but I got in the way and instead, he just ended up shifting us."

He deposited his staff on his back, "I love a good mystery, don't you?"

A burning sensation crept up her forearm and she hissed as light flared from her hand. Enya close it into a fist, crushing her nails into the scarred skin of her palm. Solas and Cassandra had been there too. They probably hadn't been close enough to get pulled into the vortex.

"What about the others?" she demanded.

"Ah," he crossed his arms, "That would depend on how far through time we've been sent."

Enya frowned, "We could be anywhere…anywhen? If this Elder One is the person responsible for the Breach we may already be too late."

"Or too early."

Enya gestured at the lyrium, "I doubt that there would be red lyrium if we were too early." Her mark burned again and she flexed her fingers, "If I didn't close the Breach then… Can we get back?"

Dorian persed his lips, "It is possible. The amulet Alexius was using appeared to be the same as the one he and I worked on when I was still his apprentice. If I can get to it, I should be able to reverse the process." The corners of his lips sagged, "In theory, anyway."

She sighed. The light of the lyrium glinted off the armour of one of the soldiers they had killed, "We should get moving. There's no telling whether these two will be missed."

"Good idea," Dorian followed her to the cell door and, as she unlocked it, he added, "We should be able to figure out just what happened while we were gone."

They hurried through the castle, working hard to keep their footsteps silent. Drawing any undue attention would make it harder for them to remain unnoticed by Alexius, or even worse, the Elder One. Enya's hands itched to hold her sword, but it would only slow her, and make it more obvious that they were not where they belonged.

The halls were dark, dank and carried the faint perfume of mold and blood. Enya's boots failed to hold out the water through which they hurried and her feet drew damp inside the leather. The red light of the lyrium that poked from the walls, floors and cielings cast a sharp contrast against the gentle blue-green hue of the veilfire sconces that lined the corridors. She flinched as they rounded a corner and came upon the body of what looked to be a Templar. Red lyrium poked from his midsection and cemented him to the cobbled floor. A shiver ran through her as a draft slipped under the door at the top of the stairs they climbed.

The fought a few Venatori agents in the wide, grated room that opened before them through the door. The men had little skill with their blades. Enya wondered if they were new recruits, assigned to the dungeons because there was little the happened there. They were certainly eager to wet their blades with blood, just like all who hoped to become champions of their cause. She regretted that they had to die, but if they were already pledging themselves to Tevinter supremacists, it was unlikely they would have had a good future.

They descended back into the lower dungeons, searching in desperation for anything to tell them when they were and what had happened. Already, it was becoming quite clear that without her, the Inquisition's war against the Venatori and their Elder One would not be successful.

"Who is there?"

The voice was faint, but carried a distinct cadence that Enya recognized as the Grand Enchanter's. She hurried to the end of the room and stopped in shock at the bars of Fiona's cell. The mage leaned against the wall. Pain filled her face, stretching it thin. Red lines snaked through her cheeks and her eyes were a diseased scarlet. Her lower half was encased in the red lyrium

"Is it…Maker! You're alive, how?!" Fiona's voice guttered as she spoke, "I saw you disappear…He was so certain you had died."

"Fiona," Enya couldn't have hid her horror if she had tried, "What's happened to you? There's…"

Fiona wheezed slightly, as sound that seemed to tear itself from her chest, "The red lyrium…is an infection. After you…vanished, Alexius destroyed the…Inquisition…scouts and captured us."

"Then my friends are alive?"

"I cannot…say," Fiona coughed, "But your spymaster…I heard the guards talk of her. The guards forced…the lyrium on me…and then…I became…this. When I am finally consumed…they will mine…my corpse for more."

Enya's horror deepened and then burst into fury as she pictured the same fate for Solas and Cassandra. Dorian was more capable than her at keeping level headed, though from a sideways glance, she could see even he was disturbed by their new knowledge.

"What year is this?" he demanded.

"9:42 Dragon, Harvestmere" Fiona sighed, "You…should leave before… the guards return. Find…your spymaster."

"We've been gone a year!"

She and Dorian exchanged an urgent glance.

Enya watched a flicker of hope shine in Fiona's eyes through the agony and lyrium intoxication. She had drawn away from the cell as had Dorian, but upon this desperate pleading look she grasped one of the iron bars and tried to reassure the dying woman.

"I will do everything in my power to ensure this never comes to pass."

Fiona shook her head, "Even if you do not," she gasped, "I will soon be at the Maker's side."

Enya nodded sadly to her, and followed Dorian out of this wing of the prison and into the other side. The bleak hopelessness of this world they'd entered was infectious. Though she knew that somehow they had to find a way to change the fate of Thedas so that this year they'd been gone would never come to pass, she found herself doubting they would be able to accomplish this. The second set of dungeons smelled darker to her as though they were deeper. The air bore the metallic tang of oppression. She tried to focus on anything other than the red lyrium that clung to the walls.

Enya had all but given up hope of finding those who had come with her to Redcliffe when they entered the last room. It was lined by four cells two on each side. Cassandra's unmistakable Nevarran accent echoed in a chilling whisper off the moist stone walls. She recited words Enya thought must have been from the Chant of Light. They must give her comfort, locked as she was in a dank cell for a year.

"Cassandra," Enya called out softly, in the hopes not to startle the Seeker.

Cassandra glanced up and Enya was taken aback to see in the core of her pupils a blinking fire of crimson. It wafted in glowing tendrils about her face and chest. Her face pleaded like a child's as she spotted them standing there.

"Maker, can it be you? Can Andraste have given us a second chance?" pain filled her voice stemming the words that echoed slightly, "Maker forgive me. I failed you, failed everyone. The end must truly be upon us if the dead return to life."

"Alexius tried to kill me but instead he sent us through time," Enya hurried forward and unlocked the bars, "If we can make it back, I will do everything in my power to ensure this never happens." She opened the door, "Are you alright? You look hurt."

Cassandra rose from the floor of her cell. Enya noticed she was thinner and that her legs shook as she stood. The scars that had once blended so well into her face seemed deep chasms now. Guilt filled her, she should have been there to prevent this.

"I am not long for this world," Cassandra replied, "but what little I have left I will use to help you achieve that goal."

Enya stepped aside as Cassandra left her cell. She gazed for a moment at the damp floor and then looked back at the comrade she felt she'd abandoned.

"I am so sorry, Cassandra."

Cassandra offered a grimace, "What matters is that you are here now and that we have a chance to undo this mistake."

Enya nodded and stepped further into the dungeon. As ill-prepared she had been to see Cassandra in her weakened state, she was even less so to spot her elven ally. Solas turned and started as he spotted her. He was pale, gaunt, his skin drawn across his cheekbone and jaw. As much as imprisonment and lyrium had sickened the Seeker, Enya felt it had taken a far greater toll on him. Watching the lightning strands of red lyrium float in the air around him almost hurt.

"Lethallan," his surprise showed in the upward curve of his lips, "You're alive!" he shook his head, as though he thought their presence a trick, "We saw you die."

Enya hurried forward and jammed the key into the lock of his cell.

"Alexius' spell displaced us in time," Dorian replied, "For us it has been mere minutes."

Solas stepped through the door as soon as she opened it and addressed Dorian, "If it is a spell then we might be able to reverse its effects. We may yet be able to obviate the last year, make it so that the Elder One cannot succeed."

Enya approached him, passing between Dorian and the elven apostate, "You look…is there anything I can do to help you?"

His mouth set in a firm line as her words landed. His calm tore into her as he replied.

"I am dying, but no matter. If the events of this past year can be erased, if we might send you back, none of this will have come to pass."

She blinked and then nodded, moving across the room to a chest. Inside was her companion's armour and leaning against the wall were their weapons. Enya handed these to them, stealing herself to regain her composure. She had not expected to be so overwhelmed at seeing them, in fact she had hoped to find them, to free them. The confirmation of her worst fear had perhaps been what sent her over the edge.

They returned to the main room just as the grated drawbridge to the fourth door clanked into place. A surge of Venatori agents laid siege to them on the platform in the center of the room but it took them little effort to tear them down. Enya ascended the stairs and became acutely aware of the metallic tinge of blood in the air. It was fresh and cloying.

"This is where the Venatori take their prisoners for questioning,"

There was a blackness to Solas' voice as he spoke. Enya felt a chill run down her spine. She did not ask how he knew where they were for she was certain that it was knowledge she could go without. They had yet to find Leliana, but as they rounded the corner, the cries she heard echoing through the corridor culminating in dread that rose like bile in her throat. The spymaster's voice was hoarse, but she spat the words from her mouth like poison as she refused to answer her tormentor's questions. The corridor echoed with her screams again.

In her peripherals, she spotted Cassandra's face. Sickened though it was by the red lyrium, fury filled the deep hollows under the Seekers's eyes. Her jaw was straight, precise, like the blade she already held in her hand. Enya nodded to her and drew her own sword.

They needn't had. The Venatori Interrogator pressed a blade to Leliana's throat but he had no time to score the flesh for the door burst inward. Enya had just enough time to register the surprise in his dark eyes, before Leliana's legs wrapped around his neck and she used her knees to snap his spine. Enya rushed forward and grasped the wring of keys from his limp corpse. She did not want to know how long Leliana had been handing there. In fact, she couldn't bear the thought of it. The manicles clicked open and the spymasters dropped to the ground. Leliana stumbled but righted herself, the melted flash on her face only accentuating the rage in the caverns under her cheekbones. Enya took no comfort in the absence of a lyrium infection, for this fate seemed equally punishing.

"You're alive?" Leliana's voice stuttered over these words, as though she could not truly believe them.

"Yes, Magister Alexius sent Dorian and me through time. It's scarcely been an hour," Enya answered.

"Lucky. The past year has not been kind," Leliana's bitter response cut through her.

Enya reached out to the spymaster, "You're safe now."

"Safe," her laugh was cruel, "Only fools wish for safety. It is an illusion." The spymaster shook her head, "If you are here, if you have returned, then it can only mean that the Maker sends you to end this."

Leliana pushed past Enya, her blue-gold eyes over-bright. Enya watched her walk saw how much the woman strove to keep her steps steady, easy. It was an impressive act, and for the first time, Enya realized why Thedas feared Sister Nightingale. She owed allegiance to only herself and the Maker, to whom she devoted each step. It was the other woman's faith both in herself and in the Maker that gave her the vigour to continue, even when she had clearly been beaten, broken, burned and battered all for the sake of a few answers, answers she had refused to give. Leliana rose from the chest in the corner of the room with her simple Ferelden longbow and her quiver strapped across her shoulders.

"The magister is likely in the throne room," She declared.

Enya acknowledged and followed Leliana out of the torture chamber and into the rest of the dungeons. Dorian and Leliana argued as they ran. He failed to see that for the Inquisition's Spymaster this was not some nightmare from the Fade, it was reality. Enya retained hope that she could somehow stop this from coming to pass, but for Leliana, that hope had died long ago.

They pushed onward, past an new group of guards in their hopes of making their way to the upper reaches of the castle. It was still cold, a fact not helped by the lack of true fire lighting their way. The hallways were lined with veilfire, it was bright, but only the memory of flame. Enya had never wished for the rosy light of a torch more. How broken must the Veil be for there to be so many sconces lit with veilfire?

The wind the filtered under the door carried a pulpy mixture of mold and blood. It was a cloying tang she could almost taste on her tongue as she opened the door, granting her a first sight of what Thedas had become in her absence. Enya stopped on the threshold and stared up in the sky, no longer the brilliant blue of robin's eggs one could expect on a sunny day, nor the tarry grey of a clouded one. Instead the sickly green of the Breach covered everything. Her Mark reacted and she dropped her sword to grasp her wrist as pain climbed her arm. The grassy green of her unknown magic sprung from it before subsiding, along with the teeth gritting agony that had so quickly seized her.

"Lethallan."

Solas stepped toward her, brown knitted with concern, but she shook her head.

"The Breach its…" Enya cast her gaze toward the sky.

"Your absence afforded the Elder One opportunity," Solas explained.

"And without the Herald of Andraste, Thedas lost faith in the Inquisition's cause. We could not accrue the numbers we required to oppose his demon army." Leliana continued, "Orlais was the first to fall, owing to the assassination of Empress Celene, but the rest of Thedas soon followed."

Enya stole herself against the overwhelming surge of responsibility. It was one thing to have the world believe you are assigned a Fate, quite another to have the Fate proved to you. She drew a deep breath.

"Then the Breach has expanded?" she asked, "Are we in the Fade?"

Solas shook his head, "It is not so simple. The Veil has been torn irreparably. Such distinctions as the Fade and reality carry little meaning now."

His eyes were sad, regretful. She wondered why she spotted in them guilt as well. Had he and Cassandra not been captured the moment she had disappeared? There was little he could have done to stop this Elder One from destroying the world. Enya glanced up at the sky again, watched the turrets of towers, chunks of rocks on which proud pine trees perched, barren of their needles. She shivered at the death the hung in the very air around them. Once she had fancied the Fade a wonderful place, full of mystery, but now she wondered whether even that was a fanciful story she'd spun for herself after listening to Solas speak of his explorations.

The air sizzled for a moment and then cracked. Demons poured from a Rift. A barrier descended around her as she scrabbled to retrieve her greatsword from the broken cobbles that lined this courtyard. They were shades, simple enough to defeat, but there were many of them and this Rift felt more powerful than the ones she'd encountered before. Enya darted underneath the lunge of one of the shades and slid her sword up into it chest. It let out a scraping cry and it's body disintegrated into shards that slipped across her skin like tiny wet fish. She flung her left hand out before her in the opening and focused her will on the Rift, begging it, forcing it, to close for a moment. Stunned, the demons fell under the capable weapons of her companions. She closed it after the last shade was reabsorbed.

It seemed that if they even moved a hundred meters, there was another rift. Enya was exhausted, but she could only imagine what it was like for her companions. Solas and Cassandra, weakened by their exposure to the red lyrium, Leliana from her torture. Dorian alone kept energy flowing through their party as they advanced toward the throne room. He accomplished this through questions she knew he intended as bait for the other members of the group. He remained intentionally blunt, poking at the soft underbelly of the situation, though never so far as to actually insult them. Enya appreciated this tactic and it kept her alert as well, reminding her to press on, if only so that the things he struck with his words would never be ills her friends felt.

Alexius had locked the door to the throne room with a complex magical seal. Dorian, however, recognized the mechanism. Enya had not stopped counting her kills. As the sixty-fourth man fell under her blade, she bit back revulsion and took the shard of red lyrium from the folds of his robes. The scarlet stone left a warm itch in her palm after she dropped it into the pouch around her waist. They returned to the door in the great hall an inserted the crystals into the intricate slots. Whatever ward had been cast on the door, vanished with a golden shimmer.

Great fires burned on either side of the throne on the dias. It was odd to think that the last time this room knew her presence was a year past and yet it had been but hours. Alexius stood with his back to them. A rail-thin human hunkered on the ground next to him. It appeared disturbingly human. The magister was hunched over his hands, examining something in them. She had expected him to be waiting for her, perhaps declaring his triumph yet here was the villainous man who had been an agent to the destruction of Thedas, standing alone and already defeated.

"Look at the world you have created, Alexius," Enya called out to him, "Is this really what you wanted?"

"It matters not what I wanted," He lifted his head and turned it, but he still did not face her, "I knew you would return. I did not know when, or by what means, but I knew that I had not destroyed you."

"And it was worth it?" Dorian stepped in front of her. His voice was sharp, primed with hurt and disappointment, "All that you've done to this world, to yourself?"

"It does not matter." Alexius let out a sigh that shook and echoed through the hall, "The irony that you should return now…of all times. My final failure to haunt me at the end."

Enya glanced and Dorian but he seemed no more able to comprehend his former mentor's words than she.

"The end?" she asked, "What end? What is ending?"

His laugh was hollow. It rattled off the walls as empty of humor as the throne room itself.

"This world, Herald," he replied, "The Elder One comes to claim all that I have wrought. He comes for me."

Enya missed Leliana's stealth approach, but as she pulled the creature from the ground, like a mother cat lifting dying kitten she realized with horror that the wizened creature she'd noticed before was indeed the magister's son. Alexius spun at the singing of the dagger as Leliana pulled from its sheath. The Nightingale pressed the blade to Felix's throat. A thin line of sticky blood oozed down his neck, a warning. Felix did not struggle, in fact the pain of this hold did not show in his empty eyes. He wanted to die, Enya realized as she glanced from Alexius to the boy, and this was why. He had done this to his son. This was the salvation this "Elder One" had promised.

"No! Felix!" Alexus cried out, reaching for what used to be his son.

"Felix?!" Dorian shook his head in anger, "Maker's Breath Alexius, what have you done to him."

"I gave the world for him, please. I'll do anything you ask just don't hurt him."

Whether Alexius merely ignored Dorian or had not heard him, he plowed on ahead. Enya looked at Leliana and saw a black fury in her eyes darker than even the darkest depths of the Deep Roads.

"Let him go, Leliana," Enya pleaded, but she could tell before she finished that he words were in vain, "He's done nothing."

Magister Alexius begged, but his pleas fell on deaf ears, "My world was not yours to take."

Enya glanced away as Leliana drew the knife across the helpless boy's throat. She heard the deadened thud of his body hitting the stone floor and turned back to see his thin, red blood spread through the cracks in the stone and drip down the steps of the dias. Alexius' cry rent the room, a scream torn from the depth of his being as a part of his heart was ripped out. Even in her anger, Enya felt sympathy for his anguish. After all, like Fiona had been misled to think that the Magister would help her, Alexius had misjudged his own leader and now he reaped the consquences.

He attacked them tearing open a rift in the center of the room. The fight was long and Enya felt her arms growing weary. There was no end to the demons he summoned. She wondered if he used Felix's blood to call down this host of assailants or whether his anguish was enough to turn them to his aid. A terror attacked her, it clawed hand sinking deep into the flesh at the back of her neck. She cried out, only to be surprised by Dorian's presence near her. He set fire to the terror and handed her a healing potion, which she drank thankfully as he cast a wall of fire about them.

"Thank you," she commented and he gave her a curt nod.

In the end, it was a ball of Dorian's fire that felled Alexius. The Magister collapsed to the floor, blood running in a thin stream out of the corner of his mouth. He coughed a few times, peppering the stone with scarlet. With a gurgle, he moved no more.

Dorian knelt next to is former mentor and pressed a hand to the man's shoulder. Enya recognized the slump that took his shoulders, the far away cast of his gaze as he looked up to his companions but not at them. It was grief and regret.

"He wanted us to kill him," he commented, "Everything he had done, all the betrayal, the lies, the madness. Without Felix, he had no reason to go on."

The Tevinter mage bowed his head over the body. No one spoke, but Enya reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. Dorian rose moments later and held up a familiar amulet. A blaze of determination filled his eyes.

"We made this amulet when I was still his apprentice."

Dorian proceeded towardthe dais and Enya followed. She glanced over her shoulder as Leliana plucked arrows from the floor and Solas cast a ward over the door.

"Give me an hour and I should be able to work out the exact spell he used."

Enya turned at Leliana's disbelieving scoff.

"An hour?" Her voice was cold, "If are to have any chance of escaping you must go now!"

A screech shook the Castle. Enya spread her stance to keep her balance as the ground quaked beneath her. Recognition filled the faces of her companions like a tide coming in and with it a wave of fear. Cassandra shook her head, backing away. Solas glanced up at the ceiling as tiles and stones rained down on their heads. Then he turned toward her, his expression imploring her to see reason.

"The Elder One is here." Leliana did little more than whisper.

Solas approached Enya, "You cannot stay here, Lethallan."

His voice was raw, she'd never heard such a tone from him. It broke with fear and clotted with sadness over the words, mirroring the drawn and tired curve of his lips. Enya had never seen such open emotion and knew it was born of desperation. She sensed seriousness of his words and nodded. She searched for Dorian. He was by the dais, already examining the amulet.

She returned her gaze to her companions in time to witness something of a silent agreement between Solas and Cassandra. Enya's heart began to race as they both turned to her. Cassandra's face was blank, her stance dutiful and her lips drawn into a tight line while Solas' was bowed with regret and resignation.

Solas spoke again, "We'll hold the outer door. We will give you as much time as is possible. When they get past us, you must be ready."

Enya felt her breath hitch with panic as she looked between the two of them, "No!" she choked, "No, I won't let you kill yourselves for me."

"Look at us," Leliana's sunken eyes were filled with frustration, "We're already dead."

Enya glanced between the three of them, taking in the sincerity of their decision and more, the faith they had in her. She shook her head and glanced back at Dorian, kneeling on the dias, frantically chanting words at the amulet nestled in his palms. He needed time. What had she thought would happen. She would be able to save these future versions of her friends as well? She shook her head.

"The only way we live is if this day never comes," the spymaster's words rang true, though they ate at her like a poison.

She nodded and set her jaw. Solas and Cassandra turned together heading with determined strides toward the door. They had already accepted death, resigned themselves to die in their cells. As Enya caught Solas' red lyrium tinged gaze, she realized that though he regretted this fate, there was strength and purpose in this death, as opposed to the one he would have face had she truly been gone.

"Cast your spell," Leliana directed as she backed away, "You have as much time as I have arrows."

Enya nodded and move toward Dorian, though she could not bring herself to tear he gaze away as the doors closed behind Cassandra and Solas. Leliana took up position at the foot of the stair, her arrow knocked and drawn in a straight line to her chin. Enya drew level with Dorian's shoulder and turned to watch blasts of magic crash upon the doors to the throne room. As they grew louder and more insistent, she tried not to imagine the onslaught of fighting Cassandra and Solas endured beyond. The magic Solas had placed upon the door gave way, shattering in a green-blue haze.

Enya shut her eyes as her breath stuttered in her chest. She glanced over her shoulder at Dorian to see his progress. The amulet glowed jade green.

"Though the dark closes, I am shielded by flame," Leliana drew her attention away.

The doors burst inward to usher a tide of demons. Enya's heart collapsed as she watched them toss the lifeless bodies of Cassandra and Solas to the ground. She braced herself against the impulse to run forward and tend to them for she knew that if there were demons in the room, there was no helping them now.

Leliana filled this first wave with arrows and there was satisfaction for Enya in watching the Venatori men who accompanied collapse, though the demons seemed as yet unaffected.

"Andraste guide me,"

Even in this moment, it was Leliana's faith that guided her. Her faith in the Maker, in his prophet Andraste, in the strength of her bow, in the wrongness of this world, but most overwhelming was her faith in Enya. Itching to draw her sword and help, Enya raised a hand, glanced back and forth between Dorian and Leliana. This could not be the future, she must return, she reminded herself and yet she could not leave a comrade to fight alone.

"Maker, take me to your side."

With a cry of pain, Leliana took and arrow to the chest, a wound Enya knew would be fatal yet she stepped forward. Dorian's hand grabbed her wrist, restraining her. Sister Nightingale attacked the Venatori men closest to her and Enya realized she could no longer draw her bow.

"If you help her now, we all die!" Dorian implored.

Enya looked back at him as the portal sprung to life before the amulet. Dorian stepped into it and Enya followed but not before she'd seen Leliana impaled on the claws of one of the terror demons. The world turned white, leaving the images of her three dead comrades burned on her retinas in dark relief.