Chapter 51

The Nature of the Beast

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When they opened the big door, the Wardens held their breaths.

The room was round, wide, with the thick roots of ancient trees surrounding a kind of platform. The woody lengths grew to the ceiling, crossing over each other at times, and were covered with moss and leaves. They sprouted everywhere, pushing through the stone blocks as they formed exotic designs along the cavern walls. The roots seemed almost like wooden hands, whose long fingers were about to grab its prey at any moment.

The scene resembled an ancient barbarian pantheon. Except that, where there should have been a crowd of people, there were hairy beasts with sharp teeth, and where the beast should have been, right in the center of it all, was a naked, beautiful woman - green-skinned as the waters of a river, and hair as black as night.

The werewolves growled incessantly, restless and irritated, scattered all over the place like a major pest infestation. They were around the main circle, over the roots, near the doors, hidden in the shadows ... And perhaps what most attracted the wardens' attention was that they weren't dark and mutilated, like those who'd attacked the group last week, in fact quite the contrary. These werewolves had scars, yes, but their fur was vibrant, all in variants of brown and beige, and none of them had the strange black, bald spotsnear their shoulders.

Their eyes were not glazed, with that slight touch of insanity that would have made their movements those of uncontrolled and completely mad beasts. Instead, they were aware, determined, penetrating; and they were focused, analyzing everything with endless mistrust and predatory instinct.

The werewolves' eyes followed them, attentive to every little move that the Wardens made - from a simple nod to a long sigh. Noah had been sure the beasts would attack them the moment they entered the room; would quickly rip their bodies to shreds, giving their minds no time to process what was happening - but no. They held their place, watching as they walked toward their possible execution.

When the seconds had become minutes and still nothing happened, the woman inside the circle reached out to them, inviting them to join her within the heart of the ruins. Noah wasn't willing to move away from the only visible exit, but before his eyes could find Eilleen's so that he might form a concrete opinion, the Dalish was already out of reach, moving towards the center, making the wolves howl and growl in protest.

One of them, whose russet fur caused his huge scars to shine under the orange torchlight, jumped between Mahariel and the beautiful woman, fast and fierce as lightning, baring his teeth with pride. Noah, meanwhile, quickly pushed his way to the side of the Dalish with his sword drawn, making more angry growls cut through the air, as more wolves joined to press in against them.

Just when the tension seemed about to explode in flurry of blood, the naked woman intervened.

"Enough!" The woman exclaimed, and suddenly the growling ceased - the only sound that could be heard was the footsteps of the wolves retreating back to their original places, on the woody steps of the Pantheon.

All but the reddish werewolf, who'd jumped to protect the beautiful woman only moments before.

"No!" he said, to the surprise and amazement of the Wardens. "This is as far as you will come!"

"Swiftrunner," the woman called, calm and collected, like a mother scolding her rebellious son. Except that in this case, there was clearly a tone of implicit threat in her words. "Please."

The wolf growled hoarsely, "Yes .. M'Lady." and retreated, much to his chagrin. He didn't disobey, but made it clear as he stepped back to the woman's side that it was not by his own will.

His reward was a brief, tender caress on his strong arm, and a satisfied smile from the woman he'd called the Lady, before she turned her attention to the Wardens.

"This," she said, opening her arms, "is the eternal resting place, of those who are long gone." She clasped her hands again. "Of Elves that lived here long ago, and my people as well."

Her serene, yet calculating eyes reminded Noah of an experienced diplomat, like many he had met in Highever. One thing he had learned from the nobles who'd lived in the castle with his father, was that the more innocent look they strived for, the worst were the crimes that they were trying to hide.

"This is a place of peace," she continued. "There is no need to take up arms."

Noah gritted his teeth. "Easy for you to ask this of us, when your bodyguards clearly have a strong advantage in this regard."

The woman glanced at Swiftrunner, before turning back to Noah. "No one here has the intention to hurt you."

For now... Noah completed the thought in his head, but didn't speak the words aloud. Instead, he teased, "Well, excuse me for not trusting the big Doggie's intention."

"How dare you -" Swiftrunner growled, annoyed with the excessive sarcasm in Noah's voice, but the Lady stopped him with a hand gesture.

"They are not my property, Warden. Not even my bodyguard, as you mistakenly called him. They are living creatures with souls, feelings and unique stories." She circled Swiftrunner, making the dried leaves on the ground draw the trace of her footsteps in the air. "So if you want to maintain civility in our meeting, I suggest you have a little more respect with my companions."

"Well," Noah sighed, but his grip on the hilt of his sword only increased. "But know that just because you've named your pets does not make them human."

"They are what they are, right?" While Swiftrunner directed burning hatred toward the human's arrogance, the woman just smiled, as if satisfied. "You ask me to control them, but their very nature forbids me that. You can not ask the wolf to pull out its fangs and cut off his claws. The Great Mother made them so - it is the essence of their nature. You've no right to ask them to change." She patted the arm of the great werewolf again, and he knelt of his own accord, making a respectful reverence to the woman before him. "His case, however, is different. Human nature is not to take up arms and cover the body with metal." She pointed her twig-like fingers to the body of Noah, her long nails scratching lightly on the breastplate of his armor. "Other beings are guided by instinct, but you - humans, elves, dwarves and Qunari - were blessed and received unique gifts that make you special: Reason, fair judgment and thoughtfulness are the most powerful weapons in the land, and they will be the only ones you may use inside this sacred place."

Noah sniffed. Her voice was soft and peaceful, like the sound of rustling leaves during an evening breeze. But the threat which was contained there was too explicit for the humans to ignore, and he eventually decided to sheathe his sword.

The wolves stopped growling in response to his gesture of peace, and now the sounds were restricted to low grumblings, as if to say they didn't intend to attack, but would remain vigilant to any threat.

...join us in the shadows, where we stand vigilant… The words from the Warden's oath ran through Noah's mind, even as he puzzled why he had retreated. He suspected it had something to do with a certain blonde elf standing beside him. Noah didn't want to admit it - indeed, never wanted to - but just the thought of putting either of the two elves (his thoughts were ever on the little redheaded elf, so very ill back at the camp) in danger bothered him much more than he would have liked.

Apparently, enough to surrender his pride and recoil from such an obvious threat, when all he really wanted to do was beat the hell out of these beasts and make a beautiful rug from their pelts.

Speaking of female elves, Mahariel was quiet. Strangely and eerily quiet. Her brow was furrowed, her eyes hesitant, and very different than he remembered during other threats they'd faced. For the first time since he'd met her, she showed no hostility whatsoever.

The silver bow of Tamlen had never left her back once.

"Thank you for your understanding," the woman said finally.

Noticing that Mahariel didn't intend to speak, Noah continued the conversation. "What are you? A demon?"

"A spirit," she replied, inviting the Wardens to come closer.

Noah hoped she would elaborate on her answer, but no. It was limited to only that which was asked. She then stood in silence, as if waiting for the Warden to formulate another question.

"And exactly what is it you intend to accomplish, holding us here like this?" Noah asked cautiously. "Sorry to throw cold water on your plans, but you'll get nowhere taking hostages."

"I do not want hostages, Wardens, I want only to talk." The Lady smiled without pretension. "Stipulate terms, create agreements."

"Create agreements ... yeah." Noah snorted. "As if I would buy that bullshit."

"I invited you here, Warden. I showed the way." The Lady made a discreet gesture, inviting the farthest werewolf to join her in the center. Hesitantly, he stood next to the woman with his head down. "And here is living proof of our willingness to negotiate."

All eyes fell on the werewolf in question. He had four legs on the ground, his spirit seemingly broken, staring at the floor. Mahariel, at first, did not see any difference between him and others - His fur was similar to Swiftrunner's ruddy coat, yet with less red, and no scar to mar it. On his body there were still remnants of torn black pants and fabric pieces that were clearly once a shirt. She didn't understand what was so special about this wolf until she noticed the wound on his ribcage, covered in a poultice of colorful herbs, which had unmistakably been made by the blade of a sword.

As if the wolf could read the elf's thoughts, he raised his head toward her, and fixed his caramel colored eyes on hers.

"Alistair...?" Mahariel voiced her thought aloud. Noah looked up quickly, clearly surprised, and the wolf who was Alistair simply bowed his head again.

"This friend of yours was hurt, confused and alone." The Lady ran her hand along Alistair's back, and he shivered slightly under her touch, before reluctantly accepting it. "We knew who he was, but even so, we welcomed him as an act of good faith, and proof of our willingness to negotiate."

Noah could not have felt more contempt looking at the wolf for the second time. This whole disaster had started because of him, and although killing him would not cure Kallian, Noah would be more than glad to end the life of the former Templar, if only to feel that justice had finally been done.

He deeply repented having hesitated once, and if only he'd had his sword in hand, he'd repair his previous error once and for all - with or without the threat of the Lady and her pack of bodyguards. Yet, he had no choice, and only stood quietly in his place, hoping that his anger would not overcome his discipline, and force his hand to do what he had promised not to.

Mahariel, in turn, seemed as much perplexed as relieved. She watched with compassion and empathy, capturing the scared look of the wolf when he raised his head. He seemed dazed, suffering, as if someone had just given him a beating with a wooden club.

She wanted to touch him, confirm that he was even real, but as soon as she reached out, the werewolf growled, biting the air between them with ferocity. The Dalish recoiled in fright, pressing her hand against her stomach from the near bite.

"Your friend's inner turmoil is great," the Lady explained ruefully. "He cannot leave his human heart behind, and therefore can find no peace. He denies his true nature because accepting it would mean denying all that once matter so much to him. There is something very strong that prevents him from releasing his old life, and opening his mind to this new world that is now his home. My efforts to help him have so far been fruitless, yet I hope to-"

"I should have killed him," Noah said bitterly. "He attacked one my companions the first chance he had. I wish he'd rot in the Void." He turned to Alistair. "Did you hear that, you asshole? You killed the elf!"

The werewolf let out a piteious growl of pain, a deep whimper, as he backed away from them, shaking his head in denial.

"She went into a burning building because of you, and this is how you repay her, stabbing her in the back," Noah continued, without the slightest question of keeping the resentment from his voice, causing Alistair to shrink away even more. "I hope the guilt consumes you, and burns up your wretched bones."

Alistair growled fiercely in response to Noah's aggression but even his long teeth bared could not hide the grief that struck the former Templar. It was as if he was crying inside, and exposing his pain in the form of anger.

"Enough!" The Lady said emphatically, stepping between Noah and Alistair. "I did not bring you here to harass my protégé." She looked at Mahariel quickly before turning her attention back to Noah. The elf could not take her eyes off Alistair, and the concern in her face caused satisfaction to shine in the eyes of the Lady, even if only briefly. "I know what you came here for, Warden, so get straight to the point."

Noah took a deep breath, looking one last time at Alistair before turning to the Lady. Regardless of her apparent calm or her light conversation, the being before him - Spirit, demon, or whatever it was - was not stupid. He did not believe she would have open the doors of her refuge for him if she truly knew what his intentions were, and at the same time, could not get it out of his head that she was playing with him. She was very aware of what was happening around her, was dancing to the music and manipulating the strings to reap the benefits, as if he were a puppet.

He knew it, because he'd felt the same way around Zathrian, like he was being manipulated, but could not prevent it.

After much thought, he decided to take the Lady's suggestion and get straight to the point. It was not as if things could get worse than they already were. After all, the road down to hell was steep, and he was already halfway there, anyway.

"Are you Witherfang?" he asked, yet not as confidently as he'd intended.

The Lady's eyes narrowed, showing distrust for the first time.

Mahariel was suddenly torn from her thoughts about Alistair, and stared at Noah in surprise. Leliana had said something about Noah and Zathrian having an agreement, but she couldn't recall what it was.

What did he know, yet was even now hiding from her?

"I speak for Witherfang," the Lady said, and her voice was dry, yet sweet. Swiftrunner beside her, showed his teeth.

"Take me to him," commanded Noah, and Mahariel had the impression that the mere mention of the name Witherfang had made his posture change completely. Before he had been arrogant and presumptuous, and even a little hesitant, now he sounded urgent. Just that, an almost desperate plea for something that went beyond a simple encounter with the werewolf in question, and that for her could only mean that he wanted to kill the pack's leader.

Although, she was skeptical that he would succeed if he tried. And if he tried, what good would it do? None. Only the destruction of the Dalish camp from the wrath of the werewolves, and the death of the two Wardens within these ruins - magically protected and forgotten by all.

"You will not see Witherfang, Warden!" Swiftrunner snarled, loud enough to make the rocks tremble under Mahariel's nearly bare feet - or at least that was how it felt.

"I will see Witherfang, Doggie," Noah growled back. "You will not stop me."

Swiftrunner defiantly stood and rumbled deep within his throat, his fangs glistening in the low light of the cavern. Once again, the Lady prevented the great werewolf from attacking, placing herself firmly between the two.

"What business do you have with Witherfang, Warden?" she asked, not at all intimidated by the rudeness of the human.

"That's not your concern."

"Noah!" Mahariel rebuked, finally revealing the sound of her voice. She was perplexed by such a show of arrogance, and even more surprised at how the extremes of his personality manifested so quickly - Peace to chaos in a heartbeat. It seemed like some kind of avenging spirit had possessed Noah, and now was using him as a tool to spread its hatred.

He did not even look at her when she called his name.

It seemed as if she was invisible, insignificant, and it hurt more than any words he might have said. Especially after the glance they'd exchanged only moments before. After that feeling... bitter and sweet at the same time, to have come so close to the real man behind the terrible monster, only to suddenly find that all been in vain and she'd been returned to the beginning, where they were simply two strangers, neither of whom supported the other.

Yet it seemed too easy to ignore it all and pretend nothing had happened. She had not the power - could not simply deny her own experience.

"Do not worry, my child," the Lady said gently, her long fingers drawing graceful contours in the air as she spoke, almost as if she meant to caress Mahariel's cheek. "Let him speak."

"But ..." she began, yet soon fell silent. It had not been an order, but Mahariel felt it would be very wrong to challenge this woman's request. So she simply fell silent, only watching as Noah renewed his angry outburst against Lady.

"Where is Witherfang?" he demanded, taking two long strides, enough to shorten the distance between him and the Lady's strange, shimmering green body, before Swiftrunner could react. They were face to face, a beautiful woman and an angry man, seeming as if the world around them did not exist.

He was the personification of a storm, but she was unshakable.

"I see you are firm in your opinion of what the truth is." She blinked slowly, and when she opened her eyes again, her black orbs glowed as if about to expose a lie that had not yet been told. "You trust in Zathrian so much?"

"I have a clear goal," Noah said, and the coldness he'd gathered into his tone to discuss the matter was not enough to completely hide the urgency in his voice. "Witherfang is part of it."

"Zathrian is manipulating you," This time it was the Lady who approached the human, getting close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her skin. "You know it - know that he has what you want, but still chose to believe the story of the wolf, and hand the sheep to over him for slaughter. You chose what is easiest instead of choosing what is right ..."

"And the right thing would be fighting against the wolf, and bringing him to justice for his crimes. Oh, wait. Isn't that what I'm doing?" He laughed mockingly. "Not the best choice of words, tamer. Zathrian, if he had just what I wanted, would not have let things get out of control this way. Would not allow his own people suffer, nor ..." Noah gritted his teeth. Images danced in his mind, as if to remind him of his reason for being there - Kallian weak and limp in his arms, and the way that he'd left her dying in a strange bed; The scratch on Eilleen's arm and the quick and violent way in which Alistar had turned. The terrifying feeling of looking around and seeing no one, living alone in the world without a reason to live ...

That inflamed his determination and his courage to a level even more daring than his usual standards, and instead of letting his unfinished phrase die in the air, he just reaffirmed his only reason for living and the only thing that mattered. "You will give me Witherfang. If not for your current good will, then I would have done everything to bring hellfire to this place, and there would be no wolf or demon that could stop me from finding what I want ." Blood dripped from his palms where the nails dug into the skin from the force of his anger. "If you refuse to give me this one of yours, then you will lose them all."

Swiftrunner jumped upon Noah before anyone could do anything, and then his heavy, muscular body was slamming the human hard against the floor of the ruins. Noah's head hit the rocks violently, and the blood from the blow served only to further incite the other wolves, which at that point, wanted more than anything else to see the fury of the forest fall on the human.

Before his teeth could tear out Noah's throat, the roots of the trees near them embraced the werewolf's chest firmly, pulling Swiftrunner back before the worst could happen.

"Lady!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Why protect this human even after he threatens us all?" He struggled, trying to free himself from the magic that the Lady had placed on him, but in vain. The roots did not seem to hurt him, just restricted his movements with firm kindness. "Why do not you kill him?"

"He is our guest," the Lady said quietly, as she watched the human stand. He then glanced at Mahariel, simply to see the horrified expression on her face. Even with the brief contact Swiftrunner'd had with Noah, it had been deep enough to scratch all the places where the werewolf touched - legs, arms, ribs, shoulders - not counting the red dot at the top of his head, hit by a sharp rock when he fell, from which blood poured as fast as the rain water that had fallen upon Kallian from the small tears in the infirmary's ceiling. Her concern was evident. In fact, the Lady hoped she would run and kneel beside him, to try to stop his bleeding."And as such, should not be hurt."

Yet, against all expectations and the irony of those words, Mahariel hesitated. Let the human stand up by himself alone and suffer the consequences of his insubordination and arrogance. Not only did the whole idea of going against the Lady seemed wrong to her, but a part of her - the more petty and selfish part of her heart - wanted him to pay, to suffer with sorrow, for his earlier neglect.

Then she had to fight twice as hard to keep her firm stance, because besides being worried about him, now she felt guilty for wishing him ill at first, even if only briefly.

Mahariel, however, had the impression that the Lady gave her a brief smile of empathy before turning back to Noah to declare her verdict, not only in understanding of her confused feelings, but also to forgive her for her sins.

"You chose Zathrian and made your decision, and I respect that." She pointed to the door. "You know where the exit is, Warden. Feel invited to use it." The Lady walked over to Swiftrunner, still held by the roots, and gently stroked his cheek. "But know this, if you dare come back here with that same answer, know that I will not be so kind."

Noah staggered back, trying to stand up straight and proud, but his injuries did not allow it. His whole body ached, both from the impact of having Swiftrunner crushing his bones, as well as the feeling of still having the werewolf's claws sticking into his flesh, and the best he could do was hobble to the door like a wounded bear. Before crossing the threshold, he looked back and saw Mahariel, still motionless and indifferent at the side of the Lady.

Her gaze was clear, an invitation to leave. Mahariel understood that. Now she understood that Noah's angry and cold glances before had been a simple request, a confirmation that she was there with him. That however stupid, rude or dangerous his actions were, he would still have the support of someone who could understand him and accept him anyway.

It was all he wanted in that moment, to leave, to return to the surface and begin the next step of the plan, which included returning the elf to safety and informing Zathrian the location of the Wolves' hideout, hoping it would put him in the good graces of the Keeper, and at least buy more time for the elves he was so desperately trying to protect..

The Dalish knew how important it was to him. How much that answer would mean to him; however, she only looked away.

"Just one last thing, Warden," the Lady called, watching the human's secure and trusting expression collapse, it was obvious that the response of the Dalish was still clear in his mind. "If you trust in Zathrian, ask him about Alana. Already we are allies, I'm sure he will not mind telling you that story."

Feeling betrayed, Noah took strength from the anger that always consumed him when things got out of control, and stepped out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a loud noise.

The echo seemed to tear his skull into several pieces. The impact was so sharp and painful that the lock smashed into the wood, but it was not enough to suffocate the maddening buzzing that seemed to overshadow any remaining trace of reason or judgment he had left in his mind.

Mahariel watched as the Lady undid the spell cast on Swiftrunner, her heavy heart pumping acid in her veins. She was confused - she knew that her decision could hurt Noah - and it did hurt a lot - but what could she do?

Her instincts were screaming for her to accept the words of this woman. All she'd said was that they should respect her words, hear what she had to say, but Noah was just too stubborn to keep quiet, right? He had to try to do things his way, had to ask her to do the one thing she could not do.

She'd never before ignored her instincts, and now that lives beyond her own would soon be at stake, she would not allow this to be the first time.

"Calm your heart, child." The Lady spoke while undid the spell placed on Swiftrunner. "No harm will befall him."

"But ... he was bleeding ..." Mahariel sighed, her heart sunken with worry and guilt. She could not not look at the blood trail Noah had left without wondering if she could have done something to prevent it, or if it really could not have been avoided.

"He brought destruction upon himself." The Lady's light hands touched Swiftrunner's fur softly, looking for any signs of injury. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that he was unharmed. "Swiftrunner only defended his family against a declared threat. You can understand what that means, can you not?"

"He just followed his instincts, I know. But still ..." Mahariel hesitated, hating herself for sounding so vulnerable.

"He'll be fine." The Lady smiled, and Mahariel hugged herself thoughtfully.

"I think I owe you an apology," she concluded, after a few brief moments of reflection. "Because of what happened."

"No one should have to apologize for what happens beyond their control," the Lady said gently, walking over to her side, with Swiftrunner in her shadow. The wolf, to the surprise of Mahariel, was not showing the same level of hostility as before, although there was an intruder in his lair. "I wanted to talk to you ,child of Andruil. Besides, I was aware that I would have to face the wrath of your friend if I chose to bring you here, so do not concern yourself."

"Talk to me?" she asked, genuinely confused. She hugged her body more tightly, feeling small in comparison to the strong presence of the Lady.

"Precisely." the spirit replied quietly, happy to have the attention of the Warden. "Your gods smile upon you, my child. You ask forgiveness for your sins every time you take the life of one of their creations, so that you might satisfy your hunger or keep warm in the harsh cold of winter. Your unquestionable respect for all living creatures and your strong connection to the forest make me believe that your understanding and judgment may be as noble as your very nature. "

Maharie'sl eyes widened. The fact that the Lady knew these things about her - like the sacred way she hunts and her constant prayers to the Creators - would have intrigued her deeply if the last piece of the puzzle did not fit into her mind.

A demon would know that thing, which Noah had previously suggested, but her heart knew the Lady was no demon. She could not explain how she was so sure, but only felt she could trust her; that her intentions were true. She just knew.

"The anxiety I felt before I entered into the Brecilian ... You were calling me," Eilleen said, gulping. "You lured me here from the very beginning ... That means ..."

"I am the spirit of the forest, whose charges refer to as My Lady." She rested her hand lightly on Mahariel's shoulder. "And the story I have to tell, you will want to hear."

Mahariel

While the Lady of the Forest explained to me her version of the story, I felt the need to find a place to sit, and the first root I saw, even if it was very small, served my purpose. My legs were wobbly - and there was also the fact that this creature was the spirit of the forest, the very heart of nature personified?

I felt small and powerless.

And the Lady, she spoke from the heart. Her words touched my soul like she was thumbing through a book, dragging her slender fingers along the pages while her nails left small scratches as they passed. It was as simple as that.

So to say that Zathrian was a Bloodmage and it was he who created the curse ... By Andruil! It made so much sense that I felt stupid for not realizing the obvious. Zathrian had killed my father for much less ... Of course he would do something like this to avenge his sons.

"Do you understand now, child?" My face was buried in my hands, but I could feel that she was looking at me intensely. "They live in a constant struggle against their own natures, because they are not irrational beasts, but minds and souls with full consciousness, trapped in bodies that they can not control. Like your friend, they want to return to their loved ones, to their families, to the lives they had before being bitten - cursed. This is a vicious cycle, which punishes the culprits hundreds of years before they were born, bringing misery to innocent people who were made to pay for just by being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

I sighed, staring at the intense looks from both the Lady and Swiftrunner, beside her. Both pleaded silently, beseeching me to believe in their version, even though they didn't seem as desperate as I had imagined they would, given the circumstances. Swiftrunner, despite his anger and destructive impulses, looked slightly nostalgic, with an abding wretchedness in his brown eyes, watching the Lady as she spoke.

She felt like the Lady, rather than just relating the facts, was giving her the opportunity to choose a side.

"I understand," I said finally. I could not deny the Lady's arguments, not when Alistair was there, standing beside me, his expression tempestuous beyond anything I'd seen before. How could I not sympathize with them when my own companion had been transformed into an animal, just because he was passing through the forest?

"They've suffered enough. We've all suffered enough," the Lady said. "And Zathrian refuses to end the curse because of his selfish motives. Because of his pride." She frowned.

"And what do you suggest?" I asked, resting my elbows on my knees as I bent toward her. "It's not like we both had a healthy relationship."

"He has been ignoring my calls for a very long time." She looked exhausted. "He made it clear that it is not in his interest to negotiate. Unless, of course, it involves delivering the heart of Witherfang."

"The original wolf…" I thought aloud.

Zathrian was manipulating Noah to capture Witherfang then. Now it made sense why Noah had been so willing to bow to Zathrian's will, even though the Keeper was an asshole. It also explained his despair when he saw me outside the camp, and his aggressive behavior.

Damn, that Zathrian was blackmailing Noah with something, was the only explanation I had. Now, with what, exactly? It was surely more than gaining Zathrian's aid to stop the Blight. It had to be.

"If the death of Witherfang would solve the problem ... I would have given myself up a long time ago ..." She was quiet, thoughtful, and my eyes widened. "But the heart of Witherfang would only bring benefits, if any, to the clan of the elves. Swiftrunner, your friend Alistair and the others will remain in perpetual suffering, alone and forgotten by the world, spreading the curse to other innocents."

I looked at Alistair, cowering close to one of the roots, still hyperventilating in agony. "Something has to be done."

"And if not done through peace," the Lady said seriously. "War it will be."

"I'm not sure there's much I can do…"

"Your intervention is the only thing that separates us from bloodshed." Swiftrunner said, and for once he did not seem to want to rip my head off. "We're all tired and ready to destroy everything that Zathrian loves, just as he did with us, if he chooses not to yield." He gritted his teeth.

"I understand, but ..." I tried to reason, remember our comrades who were still in the camp. "If you attack the Dalish, many innocent people will die. Good people who don't know the whole story ..."

"I was innocent, Lady Warden, and no one took pity on me." Swiftrunner replied without emotion. "There's no reason to start doing so now."

The silence was heavy and sad, and my response got lost somewhere between the bitterness and anger that hung in the room. I had nothing to say.

"I can't promise anything, but ..." I said finally, looking deep into the eyes of Swiftrunner. "I give my word that I will do everything in my power to reverse this situation."

Swifrunner nodded slightly before turning to the Lady.

"I know you will," she smiled, satisfied. "I thank you for listening. Swiftrunner will lead you to the exit."

"Do not bother, Mi'lady," I said, making a respectful bow. "I well remember the way."

"Considering the storm outside, I believe that a shortcut would be more appropriate," She pointed to the door behind her, which until then I had not noticed. "The passages behind the doorway will bring you near to the camp."

I watched the door for a few moments, thinking. I was completely convinced that it was not a trap, I had already spent a long time alone with them and no harm had befallen me. But I was curious about one thing - had the Lady allowed Noah to follow the path back to the camp on purpose, under the heavy rain, as revenge for his insolence?

The thought would have made me laugh if the image of his whole body sliced into bits had not crossed my mind. Poor Noah - even if he'd brought it on himself, I could not help but feel bad for him.

I sighed, walking towards the exit. Alistair stood nearby, still self-absorbed, not demonstrating any sign that he recognized me. Yet, I could feel that his suffering was genuine.

"Templar," I called as Kallian had always called him, hoping to get his attention somehow. I wanted him to look into my eyes as I spoke, to make sure that my message would reach the rest of the consciousness, which Da'shal still believed existed within him. "Listen well - Kallian is clinging to life with all her strength." The mention of her name seemed to light a fire in his gaze, and suddenly it seemed that there were only two of us in that room. "She did not give up, and I know she would not want you to give up, either."

I did not wait for any nod or a meaningful look, no. My relationship with Alistair was far from close, and however cruel it may sound, at this point in my life I was completely indifferent to what happened to him. But Da'shal cared for him, and for me it was enough.

I left the room and hugged the darkness of the long, dark corridor, as much distressed as relieved, thinking that I was the only person who had the power to stop a massacre, and ironically, was also the person with the least possible power and influence to do so.

At worst, I would have to unmask Zathrian to his tribe, forcing him to give up. Now, how to do this when everyone thought it was me who sold them to the wolves? How to convince Lanaya that her hero was actually the villain?

And I still had to deal with Noah ...

Ah, Andruil ... give me strength.

A\N: Please, don't be mad at me. It's been dark times... But I'm still here and I missed you, people :')

BTW, did you watch the new trailers of DA3? If not, stop everything you're doing right now and run to youtube. Pretty good stuff! I can't wait til October XD

What are your expectations about it?

Please, R&R! Have fun! :D