Author's note: You know, I'm surprised at how little Amell/Mahariel stories come up when you search for them. I only got two other hits besides my own! This chapter was lot of fun to write (Probably because it was largely not based on cannon dialogue, all though there is still a chunk of it.) and I really think it is my best one so far! A big thanks to michigangameplay, shadowwolf101286, Japboix1 and RatedRSuperStar87 for their reviews and to all of you who favorited TT last time! A super big thanks to my beta, almostinsane, for all his help and an insane turnaround time. Enjoy, and I'll hope you'll review!

~Scarlet

Part 3: Cliffes of Red Blood

Chapter 5: Ride the Blood

Jowan quavered under the stares of Isolde and Teagan, but fought the urge to run. The elf, the woman who had offered to kill him, held Dylan's limp body in her arms and looked at him with such an earnest, stubborn belief that he could help that he wanted to cry. The fault for this mess lay squarely on his own shoulders. He had been so happy to see Dylan, so happy to once again have someone to save him from himself. He had even thought for a moment he was Maker blessed, if just for a moment. The minute he stepped out of that cell, Jowan had decided to stop lying to himself. He knew his life at the Circle would have been better if he had actually concentrated on his studies instead of attending the meetings at night and sneaking around with Lily. Because of his foolishness, the two people who mattered most in the world were taken from him. He didn't deserve to have even one of them back.

"What do we do now?" The elf asked. Why was she looking at him like that? Did she actually think he had answers?

'Don't run away. Make my Maker damned faith in you mean something!'

He held the echo in his brain. At heart, Jowan had always been a selfish person; a fact that he was constantly reminded of when he was at the Circle by Templars and mages alike. Maker forbid a mage want something, oh no, that might make him prey for a desire demon. Maker forbid a mage get angry about unfair treatment, that might cause exposure to a rage demon. It was a wholly ridiculous way of thinking. The Templars and the Chantry seemed very keen on being severe on things they would never even have an inkling of understanding. It was the reason he started attending those damned meetings in the first place! Even there, if you weren't ready to give heart and soul to the Uldred's cause, you were a traitor. Jowan wanted neither righteous isolation or to aid in the birth of a revolution. He wanted his freedom, and when he had the means to get it, he took it.

He took a long hard look at the man he used to achieve that end. He was used to doing what he wanted, and what he wanted right now, more than anything, was to somehow save the last person alive who thought he was worth something.

He had nothing to offer but blood magic, and that's what he would give, one final time.

"The demon must be dealt with, and the Arl recovered. We will help Dylan when we can, but for now we must keep moving." The man with the cold green eyes was talking to the elf, albeit his eyes softened when he looked at her.

"You would abandon him?" her voice rang out in disbelief. He sighed. "We must secure the situation here first. The demon child must be stopped, Ishi. Do you think Dylan would do any different?"

"Deal with him?" Isolde's voice was dangerously close to wailing, "What can you mean? You can't be considering...Maker have mercy! Please, mercy!" she shouted throwing herself at him. Teagan wrapped an arm around her waist, restraining her.

"Isolde, control yourself! If Connor is a demon..." His own voice was thick with emotion, "There is little else we can do."

The red headed archer looked distinctly alarmed. "He is only a little boy. Please tell me we aren't considering this! It's barbaric."

The man in mail looked morosely at her. "I wouldn't normally suggest slaying a child...but he's an abomination...there maybe nothing we can do."

The elf kept her eyes locked with those of the cold eyed man. "I'm not about to kill a child, Michael."

Jowan almost smiled before remembering it was not appropriate for the situation. It seemed she was selfish too.

Hopefully she was selfish enough...

"If you'll let me help..." he began tentatively.

Isolde shot up from her sobbing, it didn't matter that he hadn't addressed her.

"Help!" She shrieked, "You betrayed me! I brought you here to help my son and you poisoned my husband!"

Teagan frowned. "Is this the mage you spoke of? Didn't you say he was in the dungeons?"

She sneered. It was an expression that seemed oddly at home on her face. "He was. I assumed the creatures would have gotten him by now."

Jowan winced. Ishafel looked up at her from the floor. "Nobody deserves to die like that. He's no more to blame than you are, Lady Isolde."

"I know..." He began quietly, "I know what you must think of me, my lady. I took advantage of your fear. I am very sorry, I...never knew it would come to this."

Teagan gave him a measuring look. "Well, I shan't turn away his help. And if Connor is truly an abomination..."

Isolde, who was already pale, turned even paler."He is not always the demon you saw, sometimes the boy breaks through. Please, Teagan! I just want to protect him!"

"Isn't that what started this? You hired the mage to teach Connor in secret...to protect him? We have already lost so much and now...Dylan. This has to end."

Ishafel looked at him sharply. "Dylan is not lost. Not yet. What are our options?"

"Connor is my nephew, but he is also possessed." Teagan took a deep breath that appeared to do nothing to steady him. "Death would be... merciful."

Fighting the urge to slink back, Jowan offered his counsel. "There is another option...though I am loathe to offer it... A mage could confront a demon in the fade, without hurting Connor."

"What do you mean?" Teagan asked. "Is the demon not within Connor?"

"Not physically," Jowan launched into explanation. "The demon appeared to Connor in the Fade and it's from there it controls him. The connection between them is the key. Connections that span the Fade and our world are always recognizable. We can use it to find the demon, and hopefully destroy it, freeing Connor and the Arl in the process."

He looked down at Ishafel. "Killing the demon will probably release him as well," Jowan gave a small smile. "If he isn't already trying to kill it to release himself. Dylan was always a powerhouse in the Fade."

Hope blossomed on Isolde's face. "You can do it without hurting my boy, then?

He shook his head." I can enable another mage to do so. It normally requires lyrium and several mages but...I have blood magic."

The reaction in the room was immediate and quite loud. This was all despite the fact that there was an unnameable horror on the second floor and his agents stationed outside the stairs. Sten began to grumble, Sirius barked, although it was unclear whether it was a bark of approval or a bark of concern, Alistair protested loudly, Morrigan laughed, though no one could hear her; and Michael and Ishafel said two different things at the same time.

"Blood magic is forbidden. It's not an option."

"What difference would it make?"

Michael stared rather harshly down at her. "Ishi, I don't know what kind of magic the Dalish practice while skipping about the woods, but blood magic, the kind this-" He paused in speech to look at Jowan disgustedly, "degenerate is practicing is dangerous. And from what Dylan said, this man isn't that competent to begin with."

"If there is a way, I must know it. Jowan, tell me what you mean." She ignored Michael, she didn't even look at him, Jowan noticed. Her fingers were gripped tight around Dylan's arm as though she were attempting to anchor him in the world again using force. It would leave quite a bruise.

"Lyrium provides the power for the ritual, but I can take that power from someone's life energy. This ritual requires a lot of life however, all of it."

Leliana's eye widened. "Someone must die? Someone must be sacrificed?"

Jowan nodded. "Yes and then we send another mage into the Fade. I can't go because I'm doing the ritual."

Michael and Ishafel were trading enough scary looks to kill a dragon, and this time Alistair was trying to join in.

"Maybe I shouldn't have said anything," Jowan quavered. "It's not much of an option...The power has to come from somewhere and that means either lyrium or... blood."

"Then let it be my blood. I will be the sacrifice." Such selflessness was unexpected from Isolde, and definitely not appreciated.

"What? Isolde, are you mad? Eamon would never allow this!" Teagan bellowed.

"Blood Magic. How can more evil of any help here? Two wrongs don't make a right!" Alistair shouted in the growing confrontation between himself, Michael and Ishafel. Unfortunately for him, they were both focused on their own bickering.

"Connor is blameless in this. He should not have to pay the price!" Isolde reasoned. No one was listening.

"You can find lyrium and more mages at the Circle of Magi- If they would even do it. It should not be difficult to get what they need provided we have the time." Alistair shouted loudly over everybody, effectively bringing the conversation to a halt.

"But what will happen here?" Isolde said, and for once her comment was sensible "Connor will not remain passive forever!"

"The Circle is only a few days away." Alistair said excitedly, capitalizing on the attention. "Surely the First Enchanter can be persuaded to help the heir of Redcliffe."

Jowan hesitated. "I've known Irving my whole life. He is a careful man. He won't risk one of his own; and even if he would, I doubt Greagoir would allow it."

"Greagoir..." Ishafel recalled. "He was the Templar who was willing to send Dylan to that place he mentioned earlier...the mages' prison."

Michael's gave her a sidelong glance. "I meant to ask ealier, Ishi, but what exactly did Dylan do to warrant Aeonar?"

"That hardly matters now." She snapped.

"Either we kill someone or we take our chances with the mages." Alistair summed up the situation nicely. "Both carry complications."

A chuckle permeated the room. It was completely inappropriate, but then again, the owner had never cared about being appropriate anyway.

"That is really the best you can do, blood mage? Have you no spine?" Morrigan asked, her voice was scathing. "All that power, and all you wish to do is use it so brutishly? Have you not refined your technique at all?"

Jowan looked puzzled. "That is the only way I am familiar with. It's the only one I know how to cast."

Morrigan reminded Ishafel very much of one those human pets (what was it? a cat?) when it was irritated. She sauntered slowly over to Jowan from the place where she had been watching the conversation unfurl on the wall.

"Then come up with a way that is unfamiliar." She smiled languidly. "There is no choice here. Perhaps there was before this...incident." She looked down at Dylan with thinly veiled disdain. "The demon will drain his spirit within hours. We cannot leave, that is, not if you value his life. As it is, you have missed something important. I'm beginning to wonder about the intelligence of Circle Mages." She pointed her the end of her staff at Dylan idly. "At least he had the ability to be creative."

"Morrigan," Ishafel warned, "This is no time for games."

She circled the two Wardens with a sleepy glide and continued to smile in an almost predatory way. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but for a moment she did not look much like Morrigan at all.

"The obvious. You are all so focused on the child you have missed another connection to the demon entirely: the one you are holding in your arms."

Jowan looked like a student given a particularly confusing piece of homework. "The demon forced Dylan into the Fade. There is no connection to trace." he argued. "And even if there was, life energy would still be needed to follow it into the Fade."

Her smile turned mocking. "Dylan is a Grey Warden; tied through his joining to the two other wardens in the room. 'Tis that connection you can ride, and since it is already bound in blood, you will not need much life force to follow it."

"But still-

"Is there not ample life force in this room? A small amount from everyone will easily do."

Jowan was beginning to regret offering his help. He stared at her uncomprehendingly, or rather not wanting to comprehend."It's simple enough to send a mage through on the demon's bind. I know that kind of magic well enough to ensure success. What binds the Wardens besides blood? I don't know what I'm working with, or if a mage could even ride that connection!"

She frowned. "A mage, no. But a Warden could. You need not worry about the Warden's bond. All you need know is your magic will work."

"You want to send one of the Wardens? With no waking experience in the Fade at all? Are you mad? Trained mages don't come back from the Fade. How will they defend themselves?"

Until this point, Morrigan had firmly believed Alistair was the dumbest person she had ever met. Apparently she was wrong. How could a mage with so little comprehension of the nature of the Fade exist? Some things should have been, and for the most part were, innate.

"Magic in the Fade is merely the manifestation of your own will. If a person thinks they have a weapon and aims to use it then the weapon is real." She reminded him, "Really, what do they teach in that Circle?"

"What of the dangers? The demons?" He shuddered.

"Wardens deal with darkspawn everyday. Is that not somewhat comparable?"

Alistair eyebrows twitched. "You want us to go into the fade?"

"Not you," she said tersely. "Ishafel. Her connection with Dylan is stronger than yours and she is not nearly fool enough to get herself killed."

"Hey!" He gave her a dirty look.

Michael's voice was cutting "This is blood magic. Do you really trust that mage to cast any sort of spell on you that he isn't sure about? I wouldn't let him cast on me if he was the last mage in the world and assured me he did this everyday!"

"But it's the only way..." Leliana started. Michael raised an eyebrow. More chatter burst from all but Sten, who had ceased his mumbling and stood quietly, watching Ishafel.

She turned her eyes up to Bann Teagan, questioning.

"I- It's up to you, my friend." He said softly.

She nodded, looking down at Dylan's ruddy, familiar face. "Tell me what to do.

Another wave of discussion broke over the room. Ishafel had never realized how much Dylan kept the party in line, or at the very least, silent. This chattering had certainly never happened before, and it ended when Michael drew his daggers and headed towards the second floor staircase.

"I will not be a party to this."

Isolde screamed, but she needn't have worried. He froze in place before he even went two steps. Morrigan looked distinctly annoyed.

"We haven't the time for these theatrics." She looked at Jowan, who was thinking very hard. "Well?"

"Alright," he said, after much mental deliberation. "I'll need you to stand here, and you...here." He moved about the room, instructing them. A loose circle formed around the two wardens, taking into account Micheal's frozen state. Finally, he removed an old, well used dagger from his belt. "Open his mouth."

Ishafel stared at the knife. "What are you going to do with that?"

"The spell requires a connection. I need to pierce his tongue, and yours."

She drew a small, silver dagger from her belt and handed it to him hilt first. The blade looked virgin.

"Use this. Your blade looks...unclean." Unclean was a kind word for it, a very kind word.

"You wanted to put that in somebody's mouth?" Alistair asked incredulously, "Don't blood mages practice hygiene?"

Taking the blade in his hand, he was careful to avoid Dylan's lips and teeth as Ishafel pried his mouth open. The cut was small, but effective. Blood gushed into the cavity. Moving away, he planted the point of the dagger in Morrigan's palm, then Leliana's, then Alistair's. He continued around the circle, stopping only when Sten refused to offer his hand. Sirius barked very loudly and very sharply. The Qunari and Mabari participated in some kind of secret exchange that ended with an excited yip as Sten held out his hand. Even Bann Teagan and Lady Isolde took part.

Finally, Jowan came to Michael.

"You'll need to release him." He told Morrigan, "I don't want to take the chance of your spell interfering with mine." He directed his attention back to Michael. "Ser, I believe I have enough energy to do the spell without you. If you don't want to participate, fine. But you need to know: if you attack the boy or myself after the spell is cast, you will kill them both."

Morrigan's hold disappeared. Michael blinked once, happy to be free of the invisible vice, to find Ishafel not looking down at Dylan, as she had done for most of this decidedly long and annoying encounter, but at him, holding his gaze. There was a question in her eyes that she did not need to voice, the morose set of her face did it for her. Not breaking eye contact, he wordlessly held out his palm to Jowan and let her knife dig into his skin until he bled. His blood flowed over the tip of the blade, drops spilling from his hand to the floor like liquid rubies. Michael did not relinquish his hold on her eyes even as Jowan came to her with the knife soaked in the blood of her allies. He put his fingers to her chin and she dropped her jaw accordingly, her delicate, pink tongue darting out and capturing Michael's attention. He watched spellbound, both metaphorically and literally, as Jowan drew the blade soaked in his own blood gently down her the groove of the organ, flicking the blade at the very tip of it, causing a dark red bead to well up. Jowan moved in front of her, blocking his view.

"When I give the word, you must touch your tongue with his." He hesitated. "I will not lie to you, there will be a significant amount of pain. No matter what happens, you must not break the connection. Be careful once you enter the fade. Demons have be known to lead even the strong astray. Don't believe everything you see."

Blood welled out of Dylan's mouth to stain the floor. Jowan jabbed the dagger first in one palm, and the the other. "Here goes nothing..." he murmured. "Now."

She plunged her tongue into Dylan's mouth, caressing his with her own. To an observer newly entering the room it would appear as though she had given him a very sloppy open-mouthed kiss. She suckled on it and knew almost instantly when the spell took hold. She could not remove herself from him, and all control over her own movement was gone. A strange feeling bubbled under her skin and then flowed over it. She felt her eyes widen and then her vision was washed in red and she couldn't see anything, or feel anything, not even Dylan's tongue on her own. A sickening pain spread though her, as though her skin was being peeled back strip by strip. She held herself as steady as she could and refused to scream. The pain continued to increase and build in intensity, even though she no longer felt connected to her own body. Then abruptly, the tide of pain and redness stopped and pulled away, leaving her on a muted tan plain.

The Fade, she thought in awe. The spell had worked. It was then she realized she was surrounded by ghosts.

Jowan nearly fell forward onto the couple, saved from disturbing them by Ser Perth, who seemed to be trying to touch him as little as possible.

Nobody else moved.

"It is alright, he called out, stumbling towards the wall so clumsily that Ser Perth was forced to take a better grip on his arm. "You can move now. The spell is cast." A nine pointed star, bound in blood surrounded the couple in a thin shield of crimson light that flickered every so often.

"They are as still as statues," Leliana breathed, "living statues, like out of some tale."

Alistair shifted uncomfortably. "Do- do you think they'll be alright? In there? By themselves?"

Michael, who had fallen unceremoniously in to a sitting position on the flagstones looked at him irritably.

"You ask that question now?"

Sirius chuffed in reassurance, settling down beside his mistress to wait.

"She will be fine, Alistair." Teagan replied, placing a hand on the worried Warden's shoulder. "She is the bravest woman I've ever met."

"She will come back to us," Isolde said to no one in particular, wringing her hands,"And bring back Connor and Eamon, and the mage too. Everything will be alright."

For once, Michael prayed the woman was right.

The ghosts were all children. Well, that wasn't quite true, every so often there was a flicker of an old man walking through them, calling out. Voices danced on an invisible wind, wrapping around her ears as she walked forward in the strange place. She had no clue what she was looking for, but the voices got stronger and louder as she continued, until they were practically screaming. Coming around a corner that materialized on its own accord, she came face to face with a man who looked like he didn't quite belong, standing in what looked to be a child's dwelling.

"You there!" The man called out to her, his eyes shifting in and out of focus, as though he were desperately trying to see her. "Have you seen my son? I've looked for him everywhere, but I can't seem to find him in this blasted place."

"Are you Arl Eamon?" she asked carefully.

"Yes," he answered, sounding surprised that she needed to ask. "Have you seen my son?"

"No, but I mean to find him. You are trapped here in the Fade along with my friend, Dylan. I will free all of you."

"Thank you," he said, and made to say more when suddenly he melted away. Not there at all. She continued forward in an eerie silence, until she reached a flickering purple light. Hesitantly, she put her hand forward...

And melted away herself.

There was a clank of metal from the other room, causing Ser Perth's knights to jump. They stood by the door, ready for an attack, but none came. All was silent. Jowan reclined on a bench, watching Michael watch Ishafel, focusing on the back of the man's head. He had not moved from his point in the star.

Jowan couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Ishafel had asked him without words to give, against his better judgment and moral principals, and he did willingly. He was selfless, like so many of those at the circle. He would put his own feelings aside for the greater good, and that was the problem.

Who really decided what the greater good was?

Not that they would admit it, but it was the selfish people who set priorities. If he had run up the stairs sooner or, he thought with a shudder, struck Jowan down without warning, no doubt the lady Warden would be dealing with the problem another way. But he hadn't, he gave in to what she asked. Regardless of his own words to the contrary, he could not have done the spell without his blood. Now he was stuck waiting, her Mabari at his side.

It was a terrible position to be in.

His eyes wandered over to the witch, whose gaze was unwaveringly focused on Dylan. Had she too, given against her will? Was she even aware that she had? Despite the fact she had taken control of the situation early on?

He let his mind go, the spell was still feeding off of him and he hadn't the strength to think. He stared into the fire and found it odd how very solid it seemed. Weren't flames supposed to flicker? It roared, and a rage demon launched itself into the room.

With a start, Ishafel found herself somewhere new, staring at someone familiar.

"Dylan?" She said aloud. The figure turned. Immediately, something felt wrong. The figure coming towards her was a perfect copy of the fired haired man she was searching for, but a sixth sense she had not known she possessed told her otherwise.

"Ishafel? How did you get here?" the figure asked in Dylan's voice with concern so genuine, she was almost fooled. Then the creature smiled, and she saw an unmistakeable malice in it's face. The very same malice that had flooded the hall earlier.

"Who are you?" She recoiled.

Dylan's mouth abruptly grew larger, longer and thinner, a shrill voice emerged from the gaping maw.

"What is the matter, Ishafel," it cackled with glee, "Don't you recognize me?" The creature slammed forward, smashing her head into the edge of what should have been a bookcase. She struck forward with her dagger. Had she drawn it before the creature attacked? She didn't quite remember. It shrieked again, fake head lolling dangerously on it's shoulder, not quite severed.

"Ishafeeeeeeeellll!" The gap at the creature's shoulder grew fangs and opened impossibly wide. And then something strange happened. A flash of bright light appeared with a pop and flew in the creature's face, stunning it. As it stumbled back, she leapt forward savagely, stabbing at it again and again until it dissolved into a puddle into the ground and was gone completely. A chill settled around her, and then was burned away by the cheery little wisp, floating a few inches above her face.

That new sixth sense tingled. She did not think the little thing meant her any harm.

"Thank you for your help," she said truthfully and continued down the path. With a somewhat musical chime, it floated after her. Ahead, there was another wall of purple light, she stretched tremulous fingertips toward it...

And the world shifted again.

"Don't let them reach the star, it will disrupt the spell!" Jowan bellowed as a shade launched towards Dylan and Ishafel. Alistair was brutal and efficient, burying his sword into the creature's gut and ramming his shield into the rest of it's body, forcing it away from the edge of the glyph. A shambling skeleton at the door leading to the family quarters burst into flames. The shade that followed took an arrow between the eyes for it's pains. Michael let out a sharp cry as a Revenant's sword just missed cutting into his shoulder. Teagan, grabbing a discarded blade, swung around, severing the creatures helmet head from its shoulder. Isolde cowered in a corner and did her very best not to faint.

Michael glared at the flickering star housing Ishafel's stone-like frame, her lips pressed firmly against Dylan's.

Hurry it up, woman!

A shudder went through Ishafel's frame, though no chill permeated the Fade. The wisp bounced along as they continued through an ever thickening pack of ghosts; at times there were so many that all she could see was white and was forced to trust the jingle of the wisp to find her way. The ghosts began to disappear and once again she found herself in an area of the Fade that looked like a child's room.

Dylan sat perched on a bookcase.

"Your wasting your time, Ishi. I don't want to go back." He smiled evilly, the corners of his mouth turning up far more then they should, "I like it here."

"We both do." Connor's voice said behind her. " So go away." She spun around, but there was nobody there. She turned back to Dylan to find the little boy sitting crossed legged on the bed. They wore twin smirks.

"Go back, Ishi." Dylan said again, in a voice that should have been kind. "Go back, or we'll have to kill you."

"He never calls me that," She snarled. The demons both laughed. The Fade was suddenly as black as ink. An alarmed chime came from her right, she feinted back. Her movement was followed by a surprised, wet thunk. The dark trickled to the ground and she found that the Dylan demon held the mangled Connor demon's neck in his fist, throat crushed, while the Connor demon's arm had punched through the Dylan demon's stomach. Like the darkness, they melted into pools of ink on the floor.

When Ishafel saw the swirling purple light, she jumped for it.

She was expecting more demons, more bookcases, but instead she found herself in a cavernous area that seemed to stretch for miles. The only thing that mattered was at the center.

At the very center of the space was Dylan. The true Dylan. He almost looked just as he did in the waking world, his eyes closed, jaw relaxed, lips partially open. As though in a deep sleep, maybe even having a good dream. There were two very noticeable differences. The first was the one that caught Ishafel the most off guard.

He was naked.

Naked as the day he came into the Creators' world. Nothing was left to the imagination. Ishafel's ears turned scarlet. For a shem who had grown up confined in a tower, Dylan was certainly fit under those robes.

Wrapped around his body was a she-demon. A dainty food hitched up against a shin, winding long, slender legs about his own. A delicate arm rest lightly on a hip while a hand dipped even lower, to caress a thigh. Too long a finger tickled one side of his neck, while her face nuzzled the other. The creature looked up as she approached and smiled slowly, coyly.

The look on its face was one of abject joy.

The was a burst of purple smoke as the demon disentangled from the man and appeared before her.

Disentangled wasn't quite the word. A glasslike version of herself remained, as confining as chains.

"Is he not beautiful?" she said admiringly, eyes glowing with anticipation. "Such power, in one so young..it is delectable." Her tongue darted out, wetting already shiny lips. "I have not had such a feast in so long..."

Ishafel had an idea that she was envisioning the exact moment she last had such a meal. A small ripple of disapproval radiated out from her.

The demon's eyes hardened "Very well. No more illusions. Now we stand face to face. You see my true form and stand in my domain. It is here I am most powerful; and yet I have no wish to engage your power. Nor should you be so eager to engage mine. Perhaps we should converse instead? I have a proposition for you..."

She paced in front of him, a little skip in her step. It absurdly reminded Ishafel of Sirius' behavior toward the lamb bone he received at Prosper; gentle and extremely protective.

It was very clear neither of them wanted to share.

"I will release the boy and his father. That's what you're here for, is it not? You three may leave here with my blessing. Only, leave me this one..." She turned her back on Ishafel to stroke Dylan's cheek lovingly. A guttural groan was released from Dylan's throat.

Ishafel's eyes narrowed to slits. Beside her, the wisp chirped shrilly with fury. The demon whipped around, feeling the collective wave of anger. She looked at the wisp with amused disdain, and lazily lifted an arm to send a bolt of white hot energy at it. It spiraled out of the way with an alarmed peep.

"Annoying thing..." she murmured.

"Release him, release them all. let us go in peace and I will spare you."

She laughed. "Release them? This is my place of power. I do as I wish here. Truly, is there no room for negotiation? Let us speak, elf. Surely, there is something you desire..." She ran her hand down her navel.

Ishafel fought the urge to vomit. "There is nothing I wish from the likes of you."

The desire demon huffed in exasperation. "Very well, you wish a battle? Let's see if your strength matches your boldness!"

"On the left! Ser Perth, watch out!" One of the Redcliffe knights dove in front of him, taking the mace blow to the face meant for his commander. Ser Perth maneuvered around the poor man to slam his sword into the shadow warrior's skull to the hilt.

"Arrow!"

The bolt went up in flames and melted into to ash before it reached the flickering red barrier of the spell. Leliana quickly fired one of her own in return.

Jowan was as white as a sheet, his life force draining into the spell. He snapped his wrist expertly and sucked the life out of three shades charging him, funneling the energy into the spell. It was helping but not by much. He groped for the wall, He couldn't keep this up much longer. Why had he listened to that witch? He wasn't powerful enough for this. Had she ever stopped to consider the fact that it might kill him?

"Jowan!" Leliana shouted. A skeleton appeared on his left.

He hadn't the energy to deflect it, he braced himself for the impact and was surprised to see the skeleton shatter instead. "Save whatever dying you have planned for after the battle" Morrigan advised. The Mabari took up a station beside him.

Not yet, he wasn't going to the Fade just yet.

"Arrow!" He stretched his hand out to send flames, but to his horror nothing happened. The bolt was heading straight for the spell...until it slammed into a shoulder.

Michael reeled from the impact and the second one that followed, burying itself perilously close to his heart. He went down. With a roar, Sten brought his greatsword down to smash the skeleton in two, but not before it loosed it's final arrow. It was a clean shot and slammed straight into the spell. To the horror of everyone watching, the glyph shattered, sending both bodies flying like battered ragdolls to opposite sides of the room.

Ishafel nearly had the wench when the fade washed red. She stumbled forward and then was knocked back by the she demon. The bolt of energy that hit her chest was so powerful that a moan poured unbidden from her mouth. The desire demon, fighting for her existence one moment, found the tables turned in her favor. She laughed as she blasted the reeling Ishafel, sending her sprawling. The Fade was becoming less real, more washed out. She saw flashes of the stone hall at Redcliffe castle.

She was being pulled out of the Fade!

No, she thought to herself, forcing it to come back into focus. Morrigan had said that will was what determined your power in the Fade, and she was not going back- not without Dylan, Connor and the Arl.

Pain began to build in her joints as she forced herself to move dodging the next bolt and lashing out at the demon's throat. It was like moving upstream through a strong current, and she was too slow.

"Dylan," she shouted, the pain sending black spots dancing across her vision, "Dylan Amell! Fight this! You have to fight this! I cannot do this alone!"

So small a movement it was barely noticeable, a single red eyebrow twitched.

The demon tittered, grabbing Ishafel by the hair and dragging her away from him. She was pulling so hard tears sprang to her eyes.

"Is this how you want to die? Is this what you escaped Aeonar for?" A wave of lightning coursed down her short crop of hair. She screamed, it was like being rubbed raw. She couldn't do this, fight the demon and the tide of the Fade together. She wasn't strong enough.

The wisp flew in the face of the demon, giving her knuckles a nasty shock. The demon languidly batted the mote away. Changing tactics, the wisp flew at Dylan, gathering speed, and slammed into the glass prison. It floated, stunned, for a moment before ramming the case again. Ishafel couldn't see what the demon was about to do, and it didn't really matter. She was about to be pulled into the waking world.

She was about to lose. She was about to lose the only person who had come after her when she was lost. She gathered what strength she had left, all of it.

"Dylan!" she screamed "In the name of the Creators, WAKE UP!"

The confines of the space shook with the force of her voice. A crack appeared in the glass arm securing his chest.

The Demon Hmmmmmed and brought her claws to Ishafel's throat. The mote shrieked and flew at the she-demon, determined to protect Ishafel.

"Dylan..." She was done, may Falon'din protect her.

The prison shattered, glass shards melting away as soon as they were created. Dylan let loose a bolt that knocked back his captor, her hand ripping out a chunk of Ishafel's hair as they forcibly parted. The creature writhed as Dylan unleashed a barrage of spells and then finally was no more.

The wisp jingled in happiness and was gone. He wondered what that was about. Wisps were the weakest denizens of the fade, this was the last place you would expect to find one.

But right now he had more important things to worry about. He sprinted to Ishafel, who lay akimbo on the strange fabric floor of the Fade. Skin was peeling from burn-like wounds. He poured his magic, not fully depleted, into them.

Nothing happened.

His eyes flew wide. This had not happened to him since he was a junior apprentice.

"Dyl...an..." Her voice was raw, and sounded as burned as her skin. "A..re you... alright? The...demon?"

"Dead." He told her distractedly. He had to fix this, he had to fix her. He reached out again with his magic.

"Good." Ishafel sighed, and let go. Dylan was overwhelm by the sudden, intense pull and everything went dark.

The demons vanished, skeletons fell to pieces and the animated plate mail that had been attacking Alistair clattered to the floor.

"Michael!" Teagan, Isolde clutching his arm as he went, sprinting across the room. A pool of dark blood had appeared under his body.

Jowan stayed slumped against the wall, skin a sickly gray rather than white. Eyes closed. He did not move.

Dylan came to slowly. He was first aware of the strange position of his body. He was upside down against the wall. Feet dangling by his head. He groaned, righting himself. The hall was a mess. Dead bodies and demon corpses lay thickly across the ground.

What happened here?

His eyes locked onto a body propped up on the other side of the room, by the fireplace. Ishafel.

Please be alright, he thought quietly, For the love of the Maker, please be alive.

Her voice answered as though she were standing next to him.

There is no need to shout, Dylan. I am fine, I just need to rest. Rest would be...

Her body slid down the side of the wall. Dylan's hand flew to his mouth.

He hadn't spoken a word.