"Nothing."

Leliana tossed a short, neatly-tied stack of envelopes onto the ambassador's table. The action earned a quick reproachful glance from Josephine, but the Antivan opted not to say anything. Not when the spymaster looked like she would gladly shove a blade into an eye socket at the slightest provocation. Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose, already searching for more options in her mind.

"I must say, this is very odd," Josephine commented. She tapped the tip of her quill on the table. "Even though we have but a name to work with, we should have some sort of lead by now. His tracks are too clean."

"He must have some contacts. No one can cover their tracks like this," Cassandra insisted. "Not without help."

"I have no doubt that he has friends. But we need more time to identify these people."

"Much more. Time that we may not have the luxury to spare," Leliana added quietly.

It has been two weeks since Cassandra's venture into the Fade. Since then, Leliana and Josephine had pulled and forged many strings in their vast network of contacts. But even between the two of them, they had only unearthed the origin of the cult – a small village just three days away from the Temple of Andraste on horseback. The villagers vaguely remembered a man resembling Erwen's description staggering into town at dusk, wounded and pale. His four companions were in similar condition, and the villagers took them in, patching them up and providing food. A week passed before the village found out they were mages and grew anxious. They wanted no part in the war, so they sought to shorten the mages' stay. This did not sit well with Erwen, who then launched into a passionate rant. Something about mages being oppressed and wronged, and that templars were the ones in the wrong. No one could remember exactly what he said, but he left the village in an angry huff with his group, promising their return. Leliana's agents were still sniffing out for clues in neighbouring villages.

"What about forcing them to come to us?" Cassandra thought aloud. "We could create a commotion – send our people to big cities like Denerim and Redcliffe. Issue a challenge they have to acknowledge in some way."

"I do not think that will endear us to the public. Especially not when we may incite potential bloodshed on their territory," Josephine countered. "It will make us look like common chest-thumping thugs."

"I agree. But Cassandra has a point," Leliana said. "We are making too little progress trying to track them down. Luring them out is worth an attempt, at least… But not with a big commotion, no. That would be too obvious a bait. We need something that challenges the cult at its core, something that Erwen cannot ignore."

"All we know so far, is that they are mages who use red lyrium to augment their combat capabilities. We could strike out at their identity as mages." Josephine said, her brows now furrowed in thought.

"Possibly. But we need time to think this through." Leliana placed her hands behind her back, her eyes shining with a determination that was absent at the beginning of this meeting. "I will have a plan ready in a few days." Her gaze lowered thoughtfully, before meeting Cassandra's.

"Cassandra. Will you be speaking with Kathryn in the Fade again?"

"I…suppose I will. Why?"

"I need to ask a favour of her."

"She wants me to talk to Erwen?!" Kathryn asked incredulously, staring at Cassandra in disbelief. "I've been holding that asshole at bay since forever, and now I'll just let him in for a little chat? Is that it? Should I prepare some tea and scones, perhaps a few dancers for entertainment?"

"Let me finish," Cassandra replied, motioning for the mage to calm down. "Leliana wants to understand what kind of man he is, or at the very least his motives. Why he raised a cult, and why he kidnapped you."

"Oh, I can answer that: because he's insane, that's why." Kathryn folded her arms, turning away from Cassandra. "Doesn't take a bloody genius to figure that out."

"I am sure that you are aware of this, Seeker," Marcus cut in. "But to come in close contact with Erwen puts Kathryn in higher risk of being overpowered by his magic. Your spymaster does understand what she is asking?"

"Yes. We all do," Cassandra snapped. Her patience was already wearing thin. A calming hand on her shoulder curbed her temper, and she diverted her attention towards Kathryn instead. "Leliana wants information. She says if you could goad him into being careless and taking action, then all the better. But I don't like this. The risk is too great. If I could decide, I would not allow you to do this. But it is up to you."

A sigh. "If you'd asked this earlier, it would've been easier. But I've started to feel the strain, Cassandra. The longer I hold on, the more I feel my control slipping. And if I let Erwen any closer, I…"

"You can take some time to consider. We don't want to push you into doing something you're not prepared for–" She stopped abruptly when Kathryn's grip on her arm tightened.

"No, I can't afford to waste any more time," she said, her lips set into a grim line. "I will do it, but we will have to do it soon."

Cassandra then proceeded to lay out the details of Leliana's plan for Kathryn, who kept silent and nodded slowly. A small part of her wished Kathryn would interrupt and reject the idea, but it did not happen. She was about to face down a dangerous foe alone, where Cassandra could not be, not if they wanted the plan to work. The situation was slowly slipping out of the Seeker's hands, and she did not like it.

The air was tense in the jails. Leliana and Cassandra outside Kathryn's cell, watching Dorian and Solas through the bars. The two mages laid magical precautions around Kathryn – both to ensure her safety and theirs, should things go wrong. Lysette – assigned as Cassandra's backup – stood at a distance from them, as a precaution at Dorian's insistence. Cole sat near the cell, eyes never leaving Kathryn. The Inquisitor's red lyrium markings had disappeared over a week ago, to their relief, but she remained in a daze, consumed with her struggle in the Fade. It had been difficult, watching her sit alone in the dark cell day after day, like a human shell with only hints of a soul remaining.

Cassandra resisted the urge to fidget with the hilt of her sword, and instead locked her hands behind her back. She watched impatiently as the mages double-checked their magic. She did not like this – she did not understand half of what they were doing right now. There were so many unknown factors and risks. So many ways that this plan could go awry. Cassandra glanced at Leliana out of the corner of her eye. The spymaster stood closer to the bars, arms crossed, scrutinising the mages intently. If she felt uncomfortable about the state of things, she did not show it.

Finally, the lights within the cell faded away. Solas stood, turning to face the women outside the cell.

"We have finished laying the safeguards. Now all that is left is for us to wait."

Kathryn took deep, measured breaths to calm herself down. She was having too much trouble with that, though – every time she thought her head had cleared, her pounding heart brought the gravity of the situation back to her in full force. What she was about to do ground against her every instinct. The thought of letting the cult leader in after fighting against his influence for so long… It galled, even disgusted her. Just the faint prodding of his mind against hers was enough to make her hairs stand on end. Letting him in would not be a very enjoyable experience. But if doing this meant she could get this man out of her head as soon as possible, then she was willing to do it. It was Leliana's plan, after all. If anything, Kathryn trusted her spymaster to have considered every single facet of the plan. She just hoped she had enough strength left to push Erwen out of her mind when they were done.

A small green wisp floated over, bobbing in front of her. It had been sent to her at Solas's behest – the signal that her companions had completed their tasks. She could feel their magic's presence bolstering her own. Now it was her turn.

She cast a look at Marcus, who stood ready beside her. He nodded, and Kathryn took one last deep breath. Gathering her courage and strength, she focused on the shield around them, feeling it in its entirety – including the incessant probing of Erwen's mind. A sense of revulsion ran through her again, but she suppressed it. She had to do this. Slowly, she let a small spot in the shield thin out. The foreign presence promptly latched onto it, digging eagerly into the weakness like a parasitic worm. Kathryn gritted her teeth as the presence broke through her defenses.

Their surroundings changed the moment Erwen entered their sphere of influence. The bright sky darkened, soon joined by thunder crackling in the distance, lightning flashing bright red among the clouds. The winds picked up, carrying a sinister howl on its currents. Kathryn could see shades of red creeping up towards her and steeled herself. Any time now–

"Inquisitor."

Erwen materialised before them without ceremony. He looked absolutely prim and proper – dark robes with nary a crease in them, short brown hair streaked with grey combed neatly back. Unfathomable grey eyes calmly levelled with hers. His voice was deep and smooth, laced with a subtle venom that made Kathryn's hairs stand on end. Memories of her captivity involuntarily flooded back.

"Bastard."

The word flew right off her tongue without her meaning to, but Kathryn felt no regret at the slip up. Her anger only grew when Erwen threw his head back and laughed.

"I supposed I deserved that, don't I?" He clasped his hands behind his back, fixing her with a steady, scrutinising gaze. He kept the eye contact a moment longer before looking at Marcus. "You are the spirit that has been helping her."

Marcus nodded in acknowledgement, matching the man's composure. "And you are the maniac who has been trying to control her."

Their adversary cocked his head at the accusation, a faint smile forming on his lips. He brought his hands forth, looking like a circle enchanter ready to give a lecture.

"Wrong. I am but a fellow mage trying to open your eyes." His deep black eyes rested on Kathryn's. "I am a man deeply concerned about all the blood being spilt needlessly all over Thedas – the blood of my brothers and sisters. I see my people being hunted by mindless Chantry hounds just for being born the way they are, for craving freedom from the Chantry's grasp. Inquisitor–" He stepped closer towards Kathryn, who refused to move an inch. Her fingers tightened its grip on her staff.

"Kathryn. I know your desire is the same as mine: for mages to be free. You have already taken a step in the right direction by making the mages your allies. But that is not enough. You know in your heart that when Corypheus is dead, and a new Divine ascends the Sunburst Throne, mages will be shepherded back into circles. They will revert to being sheep watched over by the templars. Is that what you want?"

"No," Kathryn relented. "But changes will be made. The circles will not be the prisons that they used to be, and the templars will no longer be our wardens. They will be turned into a place of learning. I will do everything in my power to ensure that it is so."

Erwen shook his head, taking a few steps back from Kathryn. "How naïve. I believe it was… Ah, yes. It was Seeker Pentaghast who told you that, wasn't she? Well now, don't look so surprised. I was in your head for a few days." He began to pace like a teacher in front of a blackboard. "You are letting your emotions cloud your judgment, my dear Inquisitor. Have you not noticed how many of your soldiers were templars? In fact, your commander was one, a very…passionate one. How many of them would throw mages back into Circles when this crisis is over, I wonder?"

"If you are trying to make me doubt my own people, I can assure you–"

"Oh, but I am not. These are your doubts, Kathryn. I am merely giving voice to them."

She started to protest, but realised it would be futile. He was speaking the truth, albeit twisting it with his own words. She hated him even more for it.

"Even if your desire is the freedom of mages, it still does not explain your actions. Why fight the Inquisition, especially when we are the ones trying to defeat Corypheus? We have already accepted the circle mages as our allies, and they stand with us against the chaos. If you want the people to accept mages, then join us. You can make a difference with us, show that mages do not have be feared. Doing all this," she gestured at the dark red landscape around them. "Would just undermine your own goals."

"On the contrary," Erwen interjected. "This is but the first step. You are a very important figure in my plans, Kathryn. I need you. And I wish the Inquisition to remain intact and strong – I need it to be so. It will be the weapon that will see to the destruction of Corypheus, and after that…the Chantry."

"And thus the madman's true ambition is revealed," Marcus quipped.

"Madman," the mage repeated the word, as though gauging its accuracy. "Yes, I suppose it would take a madman to tear the Chantry down. But don't you see? We mages will never be free from prosecution as long as Chantry dogma exists. We will never be truly accepted as long as the Chantry preaches 'magic exists to serve man'! The Chantry has to die."

Erwen caught himself. He shut his eyes and turned his face towards the sky, calming himself down.

"You do realise," Kathryn took advantage of his quiet lapse. "There are plenty of believers and templars in the Inquisition who will stand against you."

"Of course. But it will only be a simple matter of purging these malcontents, and replacing them with my own army of believers. Do not insult my intelligence this way, Kathryn." The ghost of a smirk hung on his lips. "You may hurt my feelings."

Kathryn snorted. "I could not care less."

"Ah, now you have wounded me."

"I have one question left," Kathryn said, brushing off his attempts at humour. "If you care so much for mages, then why do you subject your followers to red lyrium?"

"Necessity. The war with Corypheus has no place for soft hearts, Kathryn. If he is willing to use red lyrium to boost the strength of his troops, then I will not shy away from it either. It is a tool, and I will use it to give my people strength. If they lose their lives from lyrium exposure, then so be it. A noble sacrifice for a great cause. They will be hailed as heroes after we have earned our victory."

"You're insane," Kathryn spat.

"I may be," Erwen said patronisingly. "But your opinions about me will not matter much longer, I'm afraid."

A venomous smirk curved the corners of his lips. He made a short gesture, and a group of six mages – no, demons in the guise of mages – materialised behind him. They seemed to be made out of shadow, with a red lyrium shard at each of their cores.

"I will give you one last chance, Kathryn," Erwen warned. "Give me control, and I will make it painless for you. Fight, and I will shred your soul, your consciousness into tiny ribbons. Slowly."

"Go to hell."

Kathryn did not wait. With the flick of a hand, she set off the fire and lightning traps that Erwen and his minions stood on. The ground exploded in a wave of searing heat, throwing Kathryn and Marcus off their feet. A light shower of dirt rained over them as they scrambled back up.

"How disappointing."

Her heart dropped at the sound of his voice, still level as though nothing happened. Kathryn turned to find Erwen and his demons emerging from the residual cloud of energy, unharmed. Harsh motes of light started to swirl about them as they prepared their own assault.

Kathryn threw chain lightning in Erwen's direction, just as the entire area lit up with a frenzy of spells. The barrier that Marcus erected around them lasted but a few seconds, but it was enough. Sensing a lull in the barrage of spells, Kathryn willed her spirit blade into being and charged forth before the air had cleared. She caught a glimpse of Erwen's expression of surprise as she swung the blade in an arc before her – only to realise it had passed through thin air. The shock did not have time to settle in before a staff slammed into her side, knocking the air out of her lungs. Erwen had rushed past her with magically-bolstered speed and avoided the sword swing.

She did not have time to face him, however, as two demons closed in on her. The first already had its hand raised mid-spell, but Kathryn threw herself forward, thrusting the spirit blade through its red lyrium core. The shard shattered, and the demon disintegrated with a dismayed howl, just as its partner threw a force spell in her direction. For the second time, Kathryn was blown backwards. Her head hit the ground, and her vision blacked out for a moment. She came to just in time to see Erwen raise his staff over her, staff blade pointed downward. He thrust the weapon down, but was hit by a fierce blast of fire sent from Marcus's direction. The force of the spell propelled him backwards before he could pierce her flesh. She climbed to her feet hastily, anxious to regroup with Marcus, who still had his attention on her when two blades were stabbed through his chest from the back.

"No!"

Marcus's face mirrored her own shock and pain as he fell to his knees. Kathryn threw an ice spell over his head which froze two demons, but was deflected harmlessly away by the remaining two. She started to run, but a dark twisted version of a spirit blade flew into her field of vision. She threw herself to the ground in a clumsy roll, avoiding the blade and casting a spell over her shoulder. She heard it sear into the demon at the same time a blade bit deep into the back of her leg. Kathryn stumbled but managed to keep her footing. She took one more step before she felt the staff blade pierce into her back and out through her chest, dangerously near the heart. The weapon was twisted viciously, eliciting an agonised cry. Erwen pushed the blade downwards, forcing Kathryn to her knees.

Black pinpricks appeared on the edges of her vision as she watched Marcus get thrown onto the ground. A demon crouched by him, and cast a spell right into his chest. The spirit convulsed on the spot, bloodied lips parted in a silent scream.

She did not have time to worry about him, however. The weapon lodged in her chest was ripped away, leaving her doubled over in pain. Blood blossomed across her robes and dripped onto the grass beneath. The beginnings of blood trickled onto her tongue. Fighting through the haze in her mind, she pulled on the Fade around her, trying to gather another spell. But her efforts were for naught, for it felt as if the magical energy was being pulled away from her. In fact, it felt as if all energy was being sucked out of her entire being. Her body became limp. But before she keeled over, a gloved hand grabbed the back of her neck, keeping her straight so that she was looking right at Erwen.

"What a pity that it has come to this…" Erwen whispered. The man almost looked remorseful as he gazed down at her.

"Goodbye, Kathryn Trevelyan."

Cole's sharp gasp startled everyone in the jail. He sprang to his feet, drawing his daggers.

"She has lost," said the rogue, stepping towards the Inquisitor.

Cassandra, alarmed at his intention, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him backwards. The blonde stumbled, casting the Seeker a confused look. But before she could question him, the mages kneeled before Kathryn rose to their feet and hurried out of the cell. Dorian swung the door shut.

"Lock it. Quickly," he told the Seeker, who slammed the lock back in place, twisted the key and withdrew.

Cassandra's heart hammered in her chest as Solas and Dorian cast a strong barrier spell around Kathryn's cell. Something had gone wrong. Leliana nocked an arrow in her bow. She heard the hiss of metal behind her, and knew Lysette had her sword and shield at ready. Cassandra's hand held the hilt of her sword in a tight grip, but she left it in its scabbard.

Her sense of dread grew when Kathryn stirred in her bedroll. They watched as the woman opened her eyes and sat up, examining her surroundings. Then she slowly rose to her feet and stretched, as though nothing had happened. Even from where Cassandra was standing, she could tell the woman was not herself. Her footsteps were too heavy, her back too straight. When Kathryn finally turned her attention towards her silent audience, a grin unfurling upon her lips, Cassandra knew.

Kathryn was gone.