A/N: I apologise for the hideous delay— on the bright side, I've finally finished the events that lead up to this, so if anyone who hasn't already read the first part: Yet Another Perspective (yes, I'm shamelessly advertising my other story), you might want to check out the final few chapters as to why Kiera's in Seheron. *smiles a little too widely*

Chapter 8:

Where are we going?

I felt myself swoon and fall onto my side, before realizing that I had narrowly avoided the heavy swing of the large sword- its blade biting into the earth with a heavy thud. I looked up to see a half-crazed man snarling at me, and I struggled out of his way, but this time the sharp edge of his blade bit deeply into my thigh, right before he was pummeled out of the way by a large blur.

I hastily casted a stasis (mixture of frost and healing) spell on the gaping tissue to stop the flow of blood, thankful to find that the blow hadn't cut through the bone—I was quite out of practice with restoration spells that mended more than mere flesh wounds.

When I looked up (a little dizzily), I found Sten panting slightly, gazing down at me and my clumsy attempts at trying to close the wound. He bent down, holding the rags that he had already ripped off the man. He pressed these to the gash, before tearing off another ribbon of cloth from the hem of my shirt, tying it tightly around the wad.

I winced a little, but tried not to scream when he reached around and lifted me off the ground, the strength in his arms made me feel as light as a… well… bloodied feather. I needed lyrium, and lots of it— my head was too woozy to focus on blood magic.

I think I might have blacked out for a minute; for when I regained my vision I found us moving away from the magically-charged thrum of the Tevinter slaver camp. This was wrong. I needed to mend the Fade's already thin Veil, not to mention that we were getting to be further and further away from the source of the taint. I tried to move, and hissed as my leg ached something awful.

"Wait— where are we going?"

"Back to the main compounds."

"What? Why? I still need to check out that underground entrance—head east—" I pointed in the direction of the rising sun. Strange to think that the night was already over.

"You are in no condition to fight— or even to move around."

I struggled to remain upright; ground seemed so far away at this height. Kossiths were indeed very tall. "Are too. Just let me down."

"Stop moving, kadan."

"The man who hit me was the templar who had smited me unconscious from before. How is he?" I also wondered why these Tevinter slavers would travel with a templar in their party; it seemed unnecessary, for a nation which relied primarily on forbidden magics.

"He will not be able to harm you again in the future."

"Meaning… he's dead? Oh."

"I am glad that you are fine. Relatively." Sten muttered; he seemed almost embarrassed as I met his lilac eyes.

"I am glad that we got through that. Terrible, messy business—blood magic. How are the karashok?"

"Alive. And following us." His reply seemed altogether rather terse. Was something the matter?

"Ah. So they defeated the Pride demon? Good."

Sten's gaze returned to the road ahead wordlessly.

The silence back to the camp was deafening. I didn't dare ask if they had recovered my platemail, or my blades. Sten didn't seem to be in a good mood.

P.S.: Also, sorry for the short chapter— but I hoped you liked it anyway! I shall update again soon! (I hope)