The Herald of Andraste stood frozen in place as the thing that called itself "Nightmare" slowly shed its skin. She watched as long jointed legs burst forth from the humanoid shell, the cloak falling to reveal the seam of the monster's flesh covered spine breaking to reveal a row of thorny spikes.

"No!"

Evelyn turned away from the horrifying transformation and looked at the source of the sound, her jaw slackening as she felt the waves of magic pulsating from Solas, his normally scowling eyes white with rage. She watched, transfixed as he lifted his staff. The young rogue grunted as her body was jerked back, the world rushing around her before a blinding light forced her eyes closed and a sharp pain resonated from the back of her head, re-opening the wound from before. She reached out, grasping at nothing and let the darkness take her.

"Inquisitor, you must wake. Wake up."

The low voice kept repeating itself, soft and urgent and Evelyn struggled to comply as her body was shaken gently. For a moment she was unsure if she really had woken from the dream. It had seemed so vivid. Her friends had all been there and so had Cassandra although the sight of her did not bring the comfort the young woman had craved. Her seeker had been suspended, hoisted above them all, protected by a field of magic and deaf to all her cries. She tested her vision, brow furrowing in confusion to see the same green tinted sky surrounding her.

"Good. Forgive me Inquisitor, I did not mean to take the decision away from you but the danger was too great."

Evelyn frowned at the elf. "What decision…"

She paused, the thing that had been lurking at the shadows of her memories resurfaced and its ultimatum along with it - choose who shall fall - the voice crept along the edge of her mind. She turned to the elf, realization dawning as the clarity of rage purified the fog of confusion.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!"

Solas winced and reached to place a reassuring touch on the young woman's arm only to have his hand knocked aside, a leather clad fist missing his face by inches. He looked at the sight of the Iron Bull holding the enraged leader back and nodded his head once in thanks. That she would react in such a way was not a surprise. Still he should have anticipated the reaction. The elf studied the Free Marcher in silence, waiting until her fury burned through her. It lasted longer than it should have. By the time the young noble quieted, her eyes were half lidded with exhaustion and the qunari was lowering her to the ground. Quietly, Solas walked to her side and knelt beside her, his hand coming to rest on her forehead. He snatched his hand away as sharp teeth snapped in its direction and could not stop the twitch of his lips. Even now, when her energy was at the edge of lassitude she still fought to make her mark. Lesson learned he refrained from touching the young woman, instead choosing to plead his case before her.

"Hear me first Inquisitor before you judge my actions. I did what had to be done. Nightmare is a demon grown fat on the fears of the world. He is not to be taken lightly. I believe he will honor his agreement with Corypheus and force you to choose who to sacrifice. By taking you away, I have delayed that choice. My only regret was that I was unable to take you further. We are still in the fade and we have not escaped this demon completely. It will find us and when it does you are going to have to face both the demon and the choice it has been tasked to give you."

Evelyn refused to look at the apostate as he spoke but as his words drew to a close she shot him a scathing glare, her lips curled in distaste. "I've half a mind to give him you Solas. What do you think, would he take an apostate somniari in lieu of an inquisitor or a seeker?"

Solas stood quietly, frowning. Though her pronunciation had been off, the young woman was not incorrect with its definition for his unique talents; that she would know such a word was impressive in and of itself. He considered her rebuttal. He had no doubt that the Nightmare would find him an interesting option; in fact he was the only alternative option that stood a chance of causing the demon to pause in its ordered task. He shook his head. No. There were too many tasks he'd yet to complete an even though he knew and believed this young woman was the key to defeating the twisted magister he could not afford to allow sentimentality to cloud his judgement. Solas kept such thoughts to himself and bowed his head, a gesture of respect.

"I do not know if he would be willing to take another but if we are to find out we must make our way back to it and face him once more."

Evelyn narrowed her eyes, her mouth twisting as a familiar pain ran a jagged path up the arm that held the mark. She pushed the Iron Bull aside and stood up almost chest to chest with the apostate, her voice cold as she looked him in the eyes.

"Fine. You will lead us back and I will decide then what must be done."

She watched as the elf bowed his head once more and motioned for her to follow. She took a step forward and stopped as a dark voice echoed in the stillness of the fade. She darted her eyes to her companions wanting to know if she alone heard the words echoing in her mind as the voice dredged up her deepest fears and made them tangible.

You plunder aimlessly into the Void, unsure who to trust - wearing a title you will never be worthy of for you have always run from the responsibility of thus as you tear down the very ones you claim to love. Love. The very word itself recoils in you. Your love is a curse Inquisitor. Your mother loved you, carried you even though the doctors warned her of the risk you yet you killed her all the same. Marguerite succumbed to your persistent seduction, her marriage prospects ruined by the scandal. That bandit girl, whose name even you cannot remember, warmed your bed long enough to take an arrow meant for you and now this Seeker of Truth, who lies within my grasp, her only thoughts of…

"Silence demon!"

Evelyn screamed her fury, almost grateful as a crop of shade demons rose from the shadows. The rushed forward daggers flashing, demon ichor splattering as she pierced the cursed flesh. Her heart raced, her mind replaying the demon's words over and over in her head before being replaced by images she had always fought to forget. Bann Trevelyan. The dark hate in her father's eyes everytime he looked from the portrait of her mother to her. It had taken her years to identify that emotion, having always assumed those long looks were borne from his disappointment in her or from the loss of a young pretty wife. She had tried so hard to win his approval until she realized she never would.

Marguerite. The prettiest girl in Ostwick and Evelyn had to have her for no other reason than to say that she did. It was a game, a way to test all the skills learned during her misspent youth even knowing that she cared nothing for the girl. Winning her over had not been easy but the taste of victory had been sweet up until a meddling servant had walked in and seen the rogue on her knees between her naked mistress's thighs. Evelyn had run then, worried of an angry father or a jealous suitor and with no intention of picking up where she had left off. Her captured prey had had other plans and Free Marchers everywhere had chittered about the dogged pursuit of the jilted lover in a scandal worthy of Orlais herself. Thinking back to it now Evelyn had no idea what had happened the Marguerite, a thought she found unsettling after so many.

The sweet bandit girl. The Nightmare was right; Evelyn did not remember her name, if indeed she had ever thought to ask it. She had spared the young girl after the bandit's she had been a part of had attacked the noble. Evelyn had only kept her on for company and a pretty face to warm her bed. She had not thought of the blond's feelings; never even considered that she would have any. When the girl had taken an arrow meant for Evelyn, the rogue had regretted the loss but never as much as she did at this very moment. The Nightmare was right… she was as careless with love as she was with life.

Cassandra. The seeker's face rose in her mind and with it a pang of longing followed by a stabbing guilt. This was her fault. It she had never pursued the warrior neither of them would be here at this moment. They would be traveling Thedas, righting the rifts and other various wrongs while Evelyn slowly burned with unrequited lust She shut her eyes for a moment. If she could go back… if she could do it all over again… she would never have challenged the Right Hand of the Divine to a duel, never had made a kiss the prize. She would have buried her desire for the seeker in a sea of faces and bodies. The world would have been safer for it. Evelyn winced as the grating voice returned, taunting her further.

Oh don't give up now, keep fighting, keep running, keep feeding me your fears while your precious seeker wastes away in my grasp. You are in my world now Inquisitor and in my world, I can NEVER be defeated!

Cassandra tried to flex her arm, the cramp in her muscle begged for relief but the motion would not come. She opened her eyes, startled to see the Blasted Hills of Orlais in the distance. She glanced around, taking in the once familiar sights of the castle where she had spent her vigil. She had not thought to ever see this place again and could not imagine how it was she came to be here, though it was something she had secretly longed to do - especially when the noise level of Skyhold threatened to tear apart her sanity. The last thing she remembered was… Cassandra scowled, brow furrowing as she fought to remember where last she had been. Her mind felt weighed down as if mired in fog, all her memories seeming too heavy to draw forth. A soft growl echoed below and the seeker clutched at her abdomen as she tried to focus her mind on anything but the gnawing hunger. Was she being tested again? She had never heard of a seeker performing their vigil twice but maybe… just maybe…

You were the example they had to live up to.

Cassandra turned towards the sound, frowning at the emptiness that greeted her. "Who is there? Show yourself." Her voice rasped from disuse, her throat burning as another voice broke the silence.

You were older than all of the new recruits, too old to have been given to the order but too royal, too angry and too beautiful to ignore.

The seeker spun again, eyes darting as she tried to discover the owner of the disembodied words. Her first vigil has been completed in absolute solitude; she should be alone for this second one and yet… there was a presence here, one she had not noticed before but one she could no longer ignore. She reached for the sword at her hip, taking comfort in the cold hilt that seemed made for her hand. Cassandra paced in a slow circle, arm tense and ready to draw, her voice echoing off the stone, "Show yourself spirit, demon whichever you are!"

You were uncontrollable, driven by hatred and rage and yet out of all of us you were the one who achieved glory; they still tell the tale of the Hero of Orlais… they will never stop telling it...

Cassandra huffed and shook her head, "I am no hero. I could never have done it alone; I did not do it alone. There were others there, others just as brave, others..."

Others like your lover….

The seeker bristled again, her anger flaring at the words. "You will not bring him into this. You will show yourself or we are done. I will not be played with." Her ultimatum was met with silence and for a moment Cassandra thought she had driven the meddlesome spirit away until she noticed the sunlight fading behind the hills, the shadows of the keep growing longer before her very eyes. She startled as a figure stepped from the darkness; white hair caked with blood, but with a face she would recognize anywhere. She stepped forward, heart pounding. Her mind refusing what her eyes were seeing. "Byron… is that you? But… how?"

Regalyan was not a fighter, he was sweet boy who only wanted to help but you pulled him forward into your mad desire for glory all the same. And after the battle was over who was crowned with songs and titles… not the mages… not Galyan. He was forced back into the prison of another circle. He was ruined the day he met you; ridiculed by his fellow mages for his infatuation with a Seeker of Truth, with the Hero of Orlais who could only spare the very briefest of moments in the span of years and then he died trying to resolve a war you allowed.

Cassandra shook her head, rejecting the twisted truth of her mentor's words. "No, that was not how it was. I tried to leave him behind but he refused. He followed me, wanting to help. I did not want the title of Hero, I still do not. Please… Byron you must understand…" She allowed her voice to trail off as her old mentor faded into vapor and mist. A cold, familiar laugh echoed from behind. She turned her head to watch as Lucius stepped from the shadows; face bloodied and bruised, armor crushed all around him.

What is there to understand Cassandra… your opinion does not matter here. Your Inquisitor is gone, your Chantry has been decimated and you are left standing alone once again. Corypheus has won and the time of Heroes is forever over. All that is left for you to do is bow…

"Never!" Cassandra roared at the shade and swung her sword to attack. Laughter filled the room as her sword once again cleaved through air.

You think you can kill me? Wake up princess, you are too late. I am already dead...

The seeker seethed at the unwanted title to which she had been born, and watched in horror as translucent hands peeled away the ruined breastplate to reveal the carnage that lay within; torn flesh that showed the shattered bone within.

Witness the wrath of a God and know that your own time draws near...

She watched as the apparition faded away, unsure if she was asleep or awake. The sight of Byron had torn at her, his accusation shook her foundations and the sight of Lucius had only caused the caged anger within her to awaken once more. What did it all mean? Why was she here? Had she died as well? Was this the Maker's side? No. Cassandra shook her head. She refused to believe that this was the end; that this place was where she would spend the rest of her days. She turned to the open gates, the Blasted Hills of Orlais beckoning her in the distance and ran towards them only to crash against an unseen barrier.

The sound shattered around her as the warrior fell sprawling across the floor even as a sinsiter darkness settled over the castle, voices within voices echoed inside her own mind as her body pressed tighter to the floor, held down by an unmovable force.

You leave when I say you leave. Be patient Seeker. We wait for you savior. We wait to see what means more to her; you or her own pathetic existence.

The thought that the Inquisitor could be trapped in the same sort of dream had Cassandra pushing against the pressure, gasping as the air around her thinned. She blinked, lungs burning as she watched the familiar castle surroundings shimmering before falling all around to reveal the inky darkness that could only be the Fade. The Seeker felt her head spin as the air grew even harder to breathe. She fought the heaviness of her eyelids, the sinking weight against her muscles, her mind lulling even as she struggled to hold onto lucid thought, succumbing to its command even as that cold voice whispered to her once more.

Rest now, dream more... your time has not yet come.

Evelyn sagged as she accepted the Iron Bull's arm, exhaustion continuing to creep through her limbs at an astonishing rate. She looked around at her companions, each of them displaying varying levels of weariness. How many demons had they killed? How many more would they face until they were able to find their way back through this labyrinth of horrors. Fade spiders seemed to be coming from everywhere; her armor was already covered in a mixture of their sticky webbing and ichor left over from battle. She glanced up at the sky as she straightened up. The green vortex that swirled above them taunting her with the promise of freedom. If she could but make it to that tear in the sky, she knew she could rend it asunder and take them home. Green eyes slanted back towards the apostate studying the man carefully. Solas had been unnaturally silent since their conversation but his tranquility did nothing to calm the persistent anger that still seeped into her thoughts. Cassandra had been within her grasp, almost close enough to touch and now…. Evelyn was beginning to doubt she would reach the seeker in time; doubts that the Nightmare was only too happy to expand upon as it gave voice to every fear, both old and new, felt by herself and her companions, whispering among them.

She listened as the demon thanked Varric for his unknowing assistance, for bringing red lyrium to the surface, for assisting Hawke as she tore apart Kirkwall. The dwarf reacted to the jibes as he did anything else, with a threat and a joke. Evelyn watched as Dorian bristled under the suggestion that the demon could not tell the difference between the mage and his father, even though from her own scant knowledge the two men could not be more different if they tried, She witnessed the rage that boiled beneath the Iron Bull's carefree visage as the demon offered to use the qunari as a vehicle back into the real world. The Inquisitor knew not what the demon taunted Solas with, for all that she had tried to learn the elvish language the words exchanged between the two were not known to her but she remained curious nonetheless.

"We are close now Inquisitor."

That calm understanding voice grated her nerves and the rogue whipped her head towards the apostate, ready to unleash a torrent of insults at the mage, to demand that he tell her what fear the demon had spoken to him of but the words died in her throat as the shadows around them began to move anew. Evelyne watched in abject awe as demon after demon stepped into existence, covering them from every angle. There were so many, too many to fight and yet she did not see another way. Flipping her daggers she flung the blood that coated them to the ground, readying her body for another round of battle, pausing as another figure stepped from amongst the shades, hooded and instantly recognizable by the additional limbs that protruded from its sides.

You must know by now that fighting me here is futile Inquisitor. For every demon you slay another two shall rise in its place. I will ensure that you and you alone are saved for last. I will force you to watch your comrades fall, watch as I take control of their minds. You can end this now… decide. Surrender to me and I will send your seeker and friends back into your world... Surrender and I will end the pain that races within your arm… surrender and…

Evelyn watched as a beam of light pierced through the apparition of her enemy; it's howl of rage echoing as the Nightmare disappeared leaving a thin robed figure in its place, the regalia worn was instantly recognizable even before the unknown spectre turned to face her. Evelyn watched, astonished as the demon horde shrank away from the brightness of the light, disappearing back into the shadows. Impossible was the Inquisitor's only thought as she stared into a strangely familiar face. She could not remember ever meeting the one they had called Divine Justinia V but the smile that greeted her was one reserved for an old friend.

"You've done well my child."

The titled Herald recoiled from the familiarity of the phrase and shook her head to the contrary. "You can't mean that. You died, I lived." She would have said more but the age spotted hand that raised halted her next words.

"There is much that should be said but there is more that must be done. I cannot hold the demons back for long; that they even fear my presence is a surprise indeed. You must reach the demon known as Nightmare and defeat it. You must save Cassandra and to do that you will need help. Follow me. I can take you there."

Evelyn nodded and made a move to follow the woman but stopped as she felt a touch on her shoulder, Dorian's soft voice in her ear. "Caution Inquisitor. We do not know if this is the Divine. It could be a spirit or a demon sent to lead us astray. We do not have the seeker here to verify her identity. You were the last one to see Justinia alive; is this truly her?"

The rogue studied the figure in front of her, her fractured memories of that moment in Haven were a blur. She could not definitively say that the woman in front of her was the Divine. She had watched the orb that had marked her hand pull at the woman's essence; watched as it drained what little vigor had remained in the old woman before the leader of the Chantry had knocked it from the magister's grasp. Evelyn gasped as her fractured memories of that day came together in a blinding moment of clarity and she was pulled back to the events that had led her to this. For the first time she could remember, she could remember everything. She could remember running for that glowing orb, grabbing it and screaming as pain unlike any she had never known seared her palm. She could hear the scream of rage coming from Corypheus as she had thrust the anchor towards him, feeling the power of it rushing through her as the world exploded all around.

Evelyn groaned as she fell to her knees, her scarred hand falling to press flat against the ground as she sought to pull away from the memory. It had been her, she was the one who had destroyed the Temple of Sacred Ashes, the one responsible for the explosion at Haven, all those deaths - mages, templars, the Divine. She had ripped open the sky, she had thrust Thedas into chaos. Guilt and horror churned in her stomach and the rogue raised her hand to her mouth, recoiling to find her cheeks wet with tears. Evelyn could not remember the last time she had cried and now… after everything she had been through this was not the time. Fist curled she slammed her other hand against the ground and stood defiant as she shook Dorian's hand from her shoulder, voice raw with a cacophony of emotion she was not ready to deal with.

"We are in the Fade. This could be anyone, but she did help us and right now, we can use all the help we can."

Turning to Justinia, the Inquisitor fixed the older woman with a long stare before nodding in acquiescence. "I do not know if you are the Divine, nor do I care. Take us to Cassandra."

She watched as the spirit nodded, the Divine disappearing even as her voice lingered, "Come, I will prepare the way ahead."

Evelyn turned and followed the path in front of her, jogging in her haste to find the seeker. They had tarried too long and she could feel that fear swelling inside her, overshadowing all others in its wake.

Cassandra groaned as she tried to open her eyes. Memories swam all around, glowing reminders of her past and present. She tried to focus on what little she knew. She knew that somehow she was trapped in the Fade; that somehow she was in the thrall of a powerful demon who seemed to know her every thought and hidden fear. The gaps in her knowledge were frustrating and she fell on old familiar habits as she closed her eyes to recite her favorite passage from the Chant of Light.

"I cannot see the path. Perhaps there is only the abyss. Trembling, I step forward, in darkness enveloped. Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's light and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost. I am not alone. Even as I stumble on the path with my eyes closed, yet I see the Light is here."

That same mellifluous voice broke through her focus, whispering as seductively as a lover.

Do you really think the Maker hears you seeker? Do you think he is here now with you in the Fade? Foolish woman. Your entire life has been a lie and yet you stubbornly cling to your faith, even now when all the evidence points to the fact that He has abandoned you. Open your eyes seeker, there sits the Black City in the distance. Your Maker has fled, leaving you with what? Faith? Faith is always misplaced both in people and in things. Think of your Inquisitor. She was not sent by the Maker, she was never Andraste's Herald. She is a fraud who killed your Divine; your faith in her is for naught.

Cassandra bristled, shaking her head, "You will die here in the void demon. If not by her hand than by mine." Her snarl was met with laughter and she gasped in pain as the force imprisoning her tightened its grip around her, choking the breath from her.

You? What can you do seeker? You are trapped. Helpless in my grip, waiting on a rescue that will never come. Do have faith though; it is, after all, the only thing you have left.