Brehan rolled out of the way of the attacking corpse. Jerath came to his aid, parrying the blow with his small axe before running it through with his sword. Leliana put two arrows in the next corpse, dropping it before it closed. Brehan got back to his feet, and put a hand to his side. His fingers came away wet with blood.

Wynne caught the motion. Her hands glowed white as she put them on either side of the wound. A moment later, the pain vanished. "Thanks."

"You know, you could learn how to dodge," Leliana teased.

"You mean, I'm not supposed to block swords with my torso?" Brehan blinked at her, eyes wide in mock surprise.

Brosca snorted. "Stop giving him ideas. He starts dodging, some of these things might decide to target the rest of us."

Brehan was about to reply when a door burst open and four creatures that appeared to be made out of living fire surged through, followed by still more of the corpses. "Fenedhis."

Jerath put himself between one rage demon and Morrigan. The mage gestured, and suddenly the blade of the sword was coated in ice. He drove it into the demon, and it shrieked, swiping at him with sickle-like claws. He ducked, withdrew the blade, then stabbed again. This time, it seemed to melt into the floor. He moved on to the next.

Morrigan waved her staff again, and the oncoming corpses seemed to slow. Brehan and Sten surged forward, their greater reach of their weapons allowing them to finish off the corpses without disrupting the magic.

"The stories never mention the smell," Brehan said as he brought his axe down to finish off one of the creatures.

"I'm not sure if it makes a good story for the hero to lose his lunch from the scent," Leliana said, wrinkling her own nose.

Brehan looked around. Saitada and Alistair were locked into battle with one rage demon, while Cathiel peppered it with arrows. Jerath's icy blade had made short work of his second target. He looked around. He was sure he'd seen four enter the room.

The ground beneath Lenore erupted in flame, and the mage was sent tumbling as the demon shot out of the floor with an unearthly howl. Brosca leaped forward to prevent it from closing on the downed caster, and both Brehan and Sten closed. Each time the demon lunged at one, the other two attacked.

A moment later, it was over. "Everyone alright?" Saitada asked.

"Nothing damaged but my dignity," Lenore said. She and Wynne quickly moved to treat the minor scrapes and burns the others had suffered.

#

"I have a thought."

Jerath glanced up at Morrigan's quiet words. He noted she'd waited until the others were occupied and out of earshot. "Oh? What's on your mind?"

"We have an opportunity that I believe we should take advantage of." She looked around, and then continued. "To the point: my mother was once divested of a particular grimoire by a most annoying templar hunter. It occurred long before I was born, but even today Flemeth speaks of the loss with great rage." She touched her foot to a broken statue. "With the Circle of Magi in such disarray, it occurs to me that this might be the perfect time to recover the tome from their possession, for surely it eventually ended up in their hands."

The rage hummed an unnecessary warning. He raised an eyebrow, then nodded. "Very well. I'll keep an eye out for it."

She smiled. "Good. I am most interested to see its contents, should it be located. The grimoire is leather-bound and adorned with the symbol of a leafless tree, should you come across it. If not, however, then I shall simply put it out of my mind."

He was rather interested to see what the book had to say himself.

#

Brosca shuddered slightly as Wynne and Lenore tried to convince the stockkeeper to go back to safety. Lenore had told him a bit about these mages. Tranquil, she'd called them. Creepy, they were. Duncan had saved her from ending up like one of him. He touched the hilt of his mace. Any of those templars came near her, he was going to introduce them to a world of pain.

They at least managed to convince Owain to hide, and moved on. Lenore's reaction to the maleficarum was... well, it was a little scary. And he'd be lying if he said it wasn't just a little bit sexy to see her throwing fire out of each hand. Maybe that said something about him.

"Please, please don't kill me." The survivor of the blood mages was crawling backwards from them.

"The people you killed didn't want to die either," Lenore said, gesturing at the bodies strewn about the place.

"I know I have no right to ask for mercy, but I didn't mean for this death and destruction. We were just trying to free ourselves." She held her hands up weakly. "Uldred told us the Circle would support Loghain and Loghain would help us be free of the Chantry." She shook her head. "Don't you remember what it was like living here? The templars watching... always watching."

Brosca blinked as Lenore went slightly pale. The woman's words had obviously hit home. He touched the hilt of his mace again. Lenore shook her head. "What you've done will make things worse for future mages."

"We thought... someone always had to take the first step... force a change, no matter the cost."

Wynne's voice was cold. "Nothing is worth what you've done to this place."

"And now Uldred's gone made, and we are scattered, doomed to die at the hands of those who seek to right our wrongs..."

"And all you can do is wallow in self-pity. Pathetic," Brosca muttered.

"What else can I do? I'm trapped here."

Lenore's hand twisted around her staff, and the gem set into it glowed. Then she turned, and walked away. After a moment, Wynne followed. Brosca shrugged, and started to walk away with the rest. Something made him glance over his shoulder. Jerath wiped blood off his blade as he stepped over the corpse and walked after them.

#

"Huh, another breathing cupboard," Brosca said.

Saitada looked at him, the rubbed her forehead. "Is someone in there?"

"N-no?" a voice replied.

Saitada raised an eyebrow. "It's safe. You can come out."

"Are the demons gone?" The voice was shaky. "Is it safe? I don't want to d-die."

"They're gone."

"If... if you're sure it's safe, I could take a peek outside." A mage in sweaty robes climbed out of the cupboard. "Oooh, ow. Ah... yes."

"Are you hurt?" Lenore asked.

"I have a crick in my back and my bum's gone numb. Oh, holy Maker..." He turned in a slow circle, surveying the remains of the abominations, demons, and corpses they'd left strewn about the room. "Those demons didn't know what hit them, did they?" He gave a polite bow. "Godwin, mage of the Circle of Ferelden, at your service."

"How did you end up in that closet?" Saitada asked.

"There were demons everywhere, blocking my exit. I decided the best thing to do in that situation was to in that situation was to hide and be very, very quiet." He sagged a little. "I just really want to be somewhere safe. I think I might stay here for now. Maybe go back into my closet for a little while."

"We've killed most of the demons. You could escape." Brehan stepped back and pointed at the door.

He gave Brehan a snide look. "And go where? The templars have locked the door. I'm just going to stay here and see what happens."

"Very well." Lenore rolled her eyes. "Take care."

He gave her a grateful look. "Thank you again, for saving me. May we meet again, in happier, less life-threatening times." He climbed back into the cupboard and shut the door behind him.

Lenore gave the cupboard a bemused look before turning to the others. "Shall we move on?"

"Please," Saitada said.

#

Saitada was starting to lose count of the number of demons they'd killed. The desire demon had been a little bit disturbing. Killing a man who thought he was defending his wife and children had not been an easy task. The few templars they'd encountered had been driven mad. They'd incapacitated where they could, but had been forced to kill.

"What about the abominations here?" she asked Lenore.

"These, the changed ones, they are lost to the demons inside them. Even if we could capture them, there is little left of who they used to be."

"You knew some of them?" Brosca asked her.

Lenore glance back. "Nemia. She had the bunk above mine. Her brother is a templar, at a circle in the Free Marches. Starkhaven, I think." She sighed.

"Wycome," Wynne said.

"Yes. That's right."

"Sorry, Fireball."

"Me too." She shifted her grip on her staff. "I wish to do Uldred grievous bodily harm."

"I'll hold him for ya."

#

"Oh, look. Visitors." The demon shifted in place. It sounded as though every word had to be dragged out. "I'd entertain you but... too much effort involved."

"Killing demons is enough entertainment for me, thanks," Saitada said. She drew her sword.

"But why?" The demon blinked at them almost sleepily. "Aren't you tired of all the violence in this world? I know I am."

In the back of his mind, Jerath felt the rage start to beat. The demon continued to drone on. "Wouldn't you like to just lay down and... forget about all this? Leave it all behind?"

The rage beat louder as Jerath felt something start to cloud his mind. Around him, his companions began to fall. He dimly heard Wynne say something about resisting before she joined the others on the ground. The demon looked at him, eyes boring into his own. "Why do you fight? You deserve more... You deserve a rest. The world will go on without you."

Silence.

#

A city hung, suspended in the distance, hanging out over nothing. He stood on what appeared to be part of a ruined city, drifting above the emptiness. Something rustled behind him, and he turned.

The features were his, but appeared carved out of stone so dark a green they were nearly black. Eyes of molten stone glowed as they stared at him. "I won't let it have you." The voice was his, but somehow more resonant. "Sloth. Despair. A scavenger, sniffing around the leavings of pride." The surface of the creature flowed, showing a hint of red fire beneath, like lava breeching a crust. "It will not keep what is mine."

Jerath closed his eyes for a moment. "You are the rage."

"Your rage. I had not thought we would ever meet this way, in the fade."

"Are the others here as well?"

It shrugged. "They fell to despair. I brought you here." It clenched fists, and fire danced around them. "We will wake, and we will cut our way through the tower. Uldred will beg for death."

He laid a hand on the hilt of his sword. The metal was warm to the touch. The rage smiled. And Jerath closed his eyes. He inhaled, and then opened them to meet the pools of fire in that face shaped like his own. "No."

The rage flowed backwards. "No?"

"It drew them into the fade. That means they are here. I am going to find them. I am going to set them free."

"I am not giving you to the scavenger."

Jerath took a step towards it. "I will not let the... scavenger... have them." He narrowed his eyes. "They are mine."

"That was not our bargain."

"Your bargain was never with me."

"Wasn't it? The skills I have given you, the warrior I have made you..." It smiled. "The killer. Tell me, did you not enjoy tearing Vaughan's head from his shoulders?" It laughed. "You play. Handing out kindness here and there so you can pretend you don't love the feel of your blade slicing flesh."

"And would you have us be one of those things haunting the tower? Mindless? Kill or be killed?" Jerath shook his head.

"We still have one left."

"He was in the royal guard. The darkspawn did that for us." Jerath narrowed his eyes. "The way that child looked... you felt it. The faith in her eyes. Like we could do anything." He shook his head. "I am going for them. And if necessary, I will go through you."

"You would fight me? You would fight yourself?"

"I fight you every day."

"You run from me every day. In the barn, you let that Dalish hit you. I could have..."

"Killed him? And then what? Killed the woman? Then Duncan, and the others?"

"Better than bargaining with her for their lives."

"And would you have that be for nothing? All of it, for nothing?" He touched his sword. "The duty that cannot be forsworn. Yes, I have killed. I will kill again. But not without purpose." He stared. "And I need them."

"Purpose."

"I am a Grey Warden."

The fire faded slowly from around its hands. It looked down at them, its expression odd. "We are a Grey Warden." He met Jerath's eyes. "I will take you to them." He started to turn, then looked back. "It will not be easy."

"If it was easy, someone else would do it."

#

Saitada found herself standing in a fortress of white stone. It felt comfortable. Like home. And yet... She looked up to see Duncan approaching, and smiled.

"Ah, there you are. I'm not disturbing you, am I?" He sat next to her on the marble bench, and put his arm around her.

She snuggled into him. "I can't quite remember what I was doing."

"I'm sure you were simply deep in thought. You've been at Weisshaupt for some time now. Do you like it here?"

"Yes, of course. It's a beautiful fortress."

"It will stand as a testament to the time when the Grey Wardens were needed to fight the darkspawn."

Saitada frowned, and pulled away from him. She shook her head. Something seemed off. "You speak as though the darkspawn are no longer a problem"

Duncan ran his fingers through her hair. "The darkspawn are gone, remember? You were there in that last great battle. It was a triumph for all of us, bringing down the archdemon and setting the underground lairs ablaze."

"If the darkspawn are gone, then we are no longer needed..." She stood, and shook her head slightly.

"The Grey Wardens shall be keepers of history. We shall tell tales and sing songs of a more tumultuous time, that others may rejoice in knowing that time is past." He held out his hand to her.

She started to take it when she heard footsteps. She turned. The elf... he looked familiar. Like she should know his name. He looked, ragged, with torn armor. In his hands were mismatched daggers instead of the axe and sword he... how did she know what weapons he preferred? There were scorch marks on his left leg, and he was bleeding. "Funny," he said. "Did Duncan ever strike you as a man who would rest on his laurels?"

"That's not... I..." She looked at Duncan.

Duncan stood and put a hand on her shoulder. He gave her a loving look. "The Duncan you know was a man forged in the fires of war. I am different now, at peace. I have learned to be tranquil."

"Duncan is dead, Saitada. That's not Duncan."

"Dead? Me? Hah! I have been close many times, but I never quite made it all the way." He shrugged.

Saitada turned to the elf. "Who are you?"

He walked towards her slowly. "The world is never utterly at peace, Saitada."

"But now it is, for the first time in history. And you played a part in the making of that history." Duncan caressed her cheek. "Do you not remember?"

"Vaguely..." She tried to call up the memories, but they slipped from her grasp. "As though it were a dream."

"This is the dream, Saitada. You are the commander. We looked to you, when Duncan died. We need you now."

"No... that's not... you don't need..." Stone wrapped around her heart. She stared at the elf, unwilling to look at the man next to her. "It's not Duncan, is it?"

"Foolish child. I have given you so much and you cast it back in my face. Can you not be content with the peace I offer?"

She didn't look at him. "You offer complacency, not peace."

"It seems only war and death will satisfy you. So be it! Have your war and your darkspawn! May they be your doom!"

Two other wardens turned and began firing arrows at them as Duncan drew his blade. She brought up her shield to block. Jerath flung one of the daggers into the throat of an archer before turning to attack the other. Saitada blocked two more of Duncan's blows before she could bring herself to use the sword. She cried out as the blade did it's cruel work.

She lowered her sword, and brushed a hand across her eyes, wiping tears away. Jerath turned away for a moment, pretending to look around as she regained her composure. "This is the Fade." She said, her voice coming out strangely harsh as she turned away from what refused to stop looking like Duncan's corpse.

Jerath nodded. "It stands to reason the others are trapped here as well. These, things, here, they seem to function like some sort of portal. I touched one, after... ended up fighting another demon. That seemed to open up another of these things, and that one brought me here."

"This one...it appeared when I killed..."

"It's not him, Saitada."

"We'd won. There were no more darkspawn, anywhere. I know it wasn't real, but for a moment... I wanted to believe it so badly." She shook herself, then looked him over. "You are injured."

"I'll be fi..." he was interrupted as something shrieked in the distance. "Maybe we should get moving." He moved to the portal.

She started to follow, but the world got fuzzy around her. "Jerath?" Darkness.

#

He stepped back into the library. The other version of him was waiting. "Well?"

"Where'd she go?"

"She's free. She's on her way now, crossing the threshold. From her perspective, only a heartbeat will pass. Assuming, of course, you don't manage to get yourself killed."

"Where to now?"

"Well, now we've got to get this door open."

"How do I..." Jerath followed the other's eyes to a mouse hole. "If you are the demon, how come I have to do the shapeshifting?"

"Because it's your perception that bends."

Jerath sighed, and changed.

#

Brehan jumped the fallen log and scrambled up the short incline before ducking behind a tree. He held his breath and waited for the darkspawn to pass. Tamlen crouched behind a rock, his eyes wide as he carefully knocked an arrow. Between the trees, Brehan could make out the landships fleeing to safety.

A twig snapped, and both elves whirled, firing arrows at the sound. An elf in battered armor dodged Tamlen's arrow, but Brehan's scraped his arm, eliciting a hiss of pain. Brehan lowered his bow. "Easy, Lethallan" he said to Tamlen. "That's not a darkspawn."

"It's a flat-ear!" Tamlen responded. "Almost the same thing"

Brehan frowned.

"Doesn't sound like something Tamlen would say, does it?" the newcomer asked.

"Who are you? Another flat ear come to seek the Dalish?" Brehan called out. "If so, you are far too late." He looked back towards the escaping landships, and the other elf followed his gaze.

Jerath frowned. "It's not real, Brehan."

"How can you say that!" Brehan shouted. "My clan... they are safe."

"They are not safe. Not yet. The darkspawn are still coming. You left to keep them safe."

"I... I wouldn't leave my clan."

"Do you remember the mirror, Brehan? Duncan saving you?"

"Duncan... the Grey Warden..." Brehan shook his head, trying to make sense of the conflicting memories. "You...Where were you when this happened?! The darkspawn came and you wardens were nowhere to be found!"

"How did you know I am a warden?"

"I..."

"We took our joining together, Brehan. It saved your life."

"Lethallan... kill this flat-ear. We must protect our clan."

Slowly, Brehan turned. "Go, Tamlen."

"What?"

"Please. Please just go. I don't want... I don't want to see you die. I just... please... go. You aren't real."

Slowly, the forest began to fade. Brehan turned to Jerath, his eyes bleak. "I... I shot you."

"Fortunately, your aim is terrible."

Brehan gave a bitter laugh, then his vision began to blur. "What the..." Darkness.

#

"He shot me. Ass." Jerath bandaged his arm.

"You could have left him," it said.

"No."

"Oh, look. Darkspawn."

They fought back to back as the waves of darkspawn came. Their movements complimented each other as though they'd been doing it for years. But then, they had.

"Here," it said, calling his attention to something. "Another of the fonts."

Jerath touched it, and felt the energy rush into him. His skin glowed briefly. He felt stronger than he had just a few moments before. "What are these, anyway?"

"If we stood here a month, I might be able to get you to grasp the basics." It held out its arm, seemingly pleased by the results of the font.

"Some other time. Who is next?"

"Let's find out."

#

Lenore giggled as Cullen nibbled at her ear. "Stop that", she said coyly.

"I can't help it. You ears are so tasty. It must be magic."

"I have work to do... There was something..."

"My love, let the apprentices handle whatever needs to be done. It's our wedding day, let us keep this time to ourselves.

"I thought mages weren't allowed to marry," a voice interrupted.

Lenore turned, startled. An elf was standing on the roof. He looked... familiar... and half dead. "Oh dear. You must be looking for the healer rooms."

"And I'm fairly certain relationships between Templars and mages are frowned upon," he continued.

"That's not..." Lenore frowned.

"Things have changed, elf, since my lovely wife became the First Enchanter."

Jerath ignored Cullen, keeping his attention on Lenore. "Do you remember why you left the tower, Lenore?"

"We... to fight the darkspawn."

"And fight them you did. After you killed the archdemon, Irving stepped down so you could take his place, love. Don't you remember?"

"Yes. I remember."

"He is obviously confused." Cullen added. "Perhaps his mind is addled."

She turned back to the elf. "Come, let me heal you, and perhaps we can see about getting you a meal."

"Be careful, love. He could be dangerous." Cullen stepped in front of her. "You there, put down your weapons, and we will see to it you get healing."

The elf frowned. "Lenore, we really don't have time for this. I have no way of knowing how much time has actually passed. Please, you have to remember. Do you remember finding Jowan, in Redcliff?"

"Jowan..."

"Your old friend." Cullen mentioned. "Didn't he get married, recently?"

"Yes, to Lily. I... remember..."

"He was a blood mage, Lenore."

"How dare you!" Lenore drew herself up. "Jowan would never..." she bit her lip.

Cullen put a hand on his blade. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave now, knife-ear!" He took a menacing step forward.

Jerath drew his daggers. "Lenore, listen to me... this is the fade. This is a dream. This Templar here, he is a demon, a shade..."

Lenore shook her head wildly. Cullen drew his blade and stepped towards Jerath. "That is enough from you, elf. She is mine!"

Jerath caught the swing with crossed daggers and redirected it to the side. As Cullen's momentum took him past, the elf kicked the Templar in the side of the knee, sending the larger man to the ground in a groan of pain. Jerath stepped in for a follow-up blow, and Lenore caught him in a spell. Bars of magic held the elf in place as he shuddered in agony. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lenore shouted.

"Lenore..." Jerath gasped. "Remember... we need..."

Lenore began another spell as Cullen stood up, a triumphant smile on his face.

"Connor..." Jerath managed to say.

"I... Connor..."

"Finish him, my love." Cullen's voice...but not... Not Cullen. She redirected her spell, hitting the Templar with a blast of fire that drove him off the side of the tower. The spell holding Jerath collapsed, as did the elf.

"Jerath, oh, Jerath. Maker, I'm sorry." She started to weave a healing spell, but her vision began to blur. "Maker, what's happening..." Darkness.

#

It took Jerath a minute to stand up. "Lenore packs a hell of a punch."

"Mages cheat."

"If we live, I think I'll ask Alistair to teach me some of those templar tricks."

"You noticed Wynne, right?"

"Yeah. Thoughts?"

"Faith. It's faith." It's voice was contemplative. "It's not controlling her. Just keeping her alive. It's weak though. Couldn't protect her from Sloth." It cocked its head to the side. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Sympathize. And keep an eye on her."

#

Brosca was still staring at the mug in his hand when the elf sat down across from him at the table. He pushed the pitcher towards the elf, and then glanced over to where his mother was laughing at a joke Rica told. "Funny."

"What is?"

"They can make my mother sober enough to string two words together, but the ale still tastes like mold."

"Figured it out already, have you."

"Yeah... ain't real. Still... ain't seen them laugh like that since I was a wee one." He took a drink, made a face, and then looked over at the elf. "Heh... you look like something a nug wouldn't eat. What the hell happened to you?"

"Brehan shot me."

"Your dream or his?"

"His."

"Figures." He took another drink. "So what now?"

"We've still got a fight ahead."

"Yeah. Suppose it's time to go then." He looked over at the giggling women, and then finished his drink. "Ain't gonna bother paying the tab. Let's go." As he turned to walk to the door, his vision started to blur. He kept walking until the darkness took him.

#

"That settles it." Jerath began looking around the new chamber. Books floated everywhere. "Brosca is my favorite."

"If you die, I'm thinking of taking him over."

"I would have thought Brehan. He's got a temper."

"He punched us in the face. And shot you."

"True. He might be crazy."

"I will point out that he isn't the one walking through the fade talking to a manifestation of his inner self."

"I'm starting to understand why he shot me."

They found themselves facing another of the massive doors. Jerath couldn't quite hide a smile as he shifted into the form of the large golem. It was kind of nice being the biggest thing in the room.

#

The sensation of having his skin on fire and not actually burning was very odd. Warmth seemed to trickle pleasantly through his veins, providing a counter to the pain.

He shifted his form back, and then looked at his companion. He raised an eyebrow. "The fire hurt you."

"A little," the other said.

"I thought rage demons couldn't burn."

"And I told you that your perception bends the fade. Did you think that limited to just our surroundings and yourself?"

Jerath blinked. "What does that mean?"

"It means... that we have a purpose. One left. Once she's free, it will shatter. You will face the one that made this place." It looked at Jerath. "I can't help you anymore."

"I can get through the rest."

"I'm not just talking about here."

Jerath froze. He met its eyes. "I thought..."

"The bargain was with the demon." It looked down at its hands. Light still shown through cracks, but it was green, almost soothing. "I... am not a demon."

He felt a lump in his throat, and nodded. "You'll be alright?"

"I think I will." It smiled. "Go."

He nodded, and turned to the last portal.

#

"... and there was poor Ser Garlan, with no weapon to be had but a dinner fork!"

Cathiel laughed as Fergus finished the tale. Her father pounded the table as her mother gave an exasperated sigh, one that didn't quite hide the smile playing on her own lips. Across the table, Oriana rolled her eyes and cooed at the infant in her arms. Oren sat next to her, feeding bits of vegetables to Griffon whenever his mother was distracted by the infant. Behind her father, she saw the door of the hall open, and an elf slip inside. She would have thought him a servant, but he was armed and armored, and bleeding. Her mother followed her gaze, and her eyes widened as she too, noticed the newcomer. The table fell silent as one by one they turned to face the elf.

"Young man..." her father started to speak. "Young man, if you are looking for Mother Mallol, you are in the wrong place." He gestured for one of the guards.

The elf shook his head. "I'm looking for your daughter, Cathiel Cousland."

Cathiel frowned. "And why are you looking for me, elf?"

"This isn't real, Cathiel."

"What are you talking about?" She frowned. "Of course this is real."

"Do you remember the night you were conscripted?"

"I..."

Her father stood up. "Young man, I would never allow my daughter to be conscripted, no matter what so-called rights the Grey Wardens invoke!"

"Remember, Cathiel."

Cathiel shook her head. Her father gestured for the guards. "Get rid of him."

Wounded or no, the elf was fast. He took the two guards nearest him before they'd finished drawing their weapons. The third and fourth fared no better. Ser Gilmore caught the elf with the edge of a shield, but he recovered quickly, parrying Ser Gilmore's blow and stepping in to bury his dagger into Ser Gilmore's chest.

Cathiel screamed, "Rory", as the arrow buried itself in the elf's chest. He collapsed to his knees, and she was shocked to see the bow in her hands.

"It's not... Cathiel, it's not real."

Cathiel leaped over the table, bow in her hands, and stalked towards the elf. He struggled to his feet as she slammed him against the wall. "You killed Rory."

The elf winced. "No... Arl Howe did."

Cathiel's hands began to tremble. "No..."

"He's still out there, Cathiel. Your family is in their graves, with none to avenge them but you." Blood trickled from the side of the elf's mouth.

Cathiel let out a sob. "Maker... Jerath...there has to be some poultices around here, somewhere..." she released him, and started to move towards the cabinet as her vision began to blur. Darkness.

#

The demon flowed around the center of the small valley. "What do we have here? A rebellious minion? And escaped slave?" It laughed. "My, my... but you do have some gall. But playtime is over. You all have to go back now."

Saitada glanced around and realized the others had also appeared around her. Cathiel immediately rushed to support Jerath who appeared beside her. The elf sagged, and she realized he was badly injured.

Wynne's voice rang out. "You will not hold us, demon. We found each other in this place and you cannot stand against us."

"You made a dangerous enemy, demon, by toying with my mind." Morrigan practically sneered as she readied her staff.

"It is time to finish this." Sten drew his sword. "I have had enough of cages."

"If you go back quietly, I'll do better this time. I'll make you much happier." The demon's voice was mocking.

"We don't want anything you offer," Brehan said, his voice raw.

"I made you happy and safe. I gave you peace. I did my best for you and you say you want to leave? Can't you think about someone other than yourself? I'm hurt, so very, very hurt." It sounded annoyed.

"Sorry, but I'd rather just be rid of your evil right now." Saitada readied her shield as she started towards it.

"You wish to battle me? So be it... you will learn to bow to your betters, mortal!"

The demon shifted into the form of an ogre, batting Brehan and Brosca aside effortlessly. It lowered its head and charged. Cathiel managed to throw herself and Jerath out of the way. Wynne and Lenore weren't so lucky, and were sent flying. Zevran tried to come at it from behind, slashing at its legs. The ogre grabbed him and flung him into Sten, who just barely managed to lower his sword in time to not skewer the elf. The two went down in a heap. It roared at Saitada, and started to lower its head again, when Jerath leapt on its back, burying both daggers into its shoulders. It threw back its head, and Saitada took the opening, driving her blade into its now-exposed throat. It reared back, yanking her sword out of her hand, and twisted. Jerath lost his grip and tumbled to the ground where he lay unmoving. The ogre roared again, and Cathiel put an arrow into its open mouth. The ogre staggered a moment, then, collapsed. As it fell, the world around them began to break apart.

"You defeated the demon. I never thought..." Saitada turned to see a man in mage robes speaking. His face was overjoyed. "I never expected you to get free, to free us all." He looked towards them. "When you return... take the Litany of Adralla from my..." He hesitated a moment. "Body. It will protect you from the worst of the blood magic."

Saitada nodded as the dream faded away.