Salla looked over the map, then chewed on her lower lip. "House Brosca and the Inquisition are very good at what they do." She touched a couple of the marked locations. "Starkhaven is an anomaly, both because it lacked a strong Inquisition presence and because the Inquisition wasn't worried about that enough to have much of a covert Inquisition presence." She frowned at the map again. "Nor did other groups, such as Fen'Harel or the Ben'Hassrath."

"You're thinking that if they are retreating to a backup base, it's going to have to be in Tevinter." Agatha nodded. "But not too far to the north."

"We still need to figure out where exactly to go, and how to get there. I'd like to stay off the main roads, but we are still lacking in folks that have woodlore." Salla shook her head. "Maybe we shouldn't have let Brehan go."

"What is this thing you have about kidnapping people?" Kels stared at her.

"He was a fairly cooperative prisoner." Salla shrugged. "These are the ones Fen'Harel knows about. My guess is they'll be somewhere else entirely."

"He thinks he's smarter than Mythal, and trickier than the Dread Wolf."

"Caleb?" She turned towards her brother.

"Baradies. This Siofra may think she runs the cult, but he's the mind behind it. And he has a history of hiding in plain sight. Plus he likes to think of himself as clever, and wants to get under people's skin." Caleb leaned on the table. "A hundred gold says they've got a base here, and its where they are headed."

They all stared at where his finger was pointing on the map. "That..." Duncan started to nod. "I think he might be on to something." He shook his head. "They could have allied with any noble. They picked Sebastian Vael."

"He wrote books on himself." One side of Gavren's mouth curled up in a thoughtful smile.

"His plan so far has been pretty elaborate and flashy." Agatha folded her arms.

"It fits with how everything has been going for us to date." Loghain shrugged.

Kieran tilted his head slightly and then nodded. "Pride."

Salla stared at the city name just above Caleb's finger. "Solas."

#

"The safe path is down the river and then up the Imperial Highway." Alai shook her head at Duncan.

"That almost doubles the distance we have to travel." Duncan held his ground. "And who knows what they can do with more time to plan?" He turned to Salla. "Tell her."

"Actually, I think she's right." Salla patted her horse.

"What?" Duncan raised an eyebrow.

"We've a history of our own. Charging right in." Salla shook her head. "They set one trap for us already based on that." She sighed. "And it killed Noamin." She turned to face Duncan. "They have more people than us, know the territory, and we are at a disadvantage on the road. Plus the last thing anyone would expect is for us to do the sensible thing."

"So you are going to give them more time to prepare?" Duncan narrowed his eyes. "We need to..."

"Duncan." Salla took a deep breath. "You agreed to follow me. This is my decision."

He stared at her for almost a full minute. Her eyes never left his. "Maferath's balls." He wrinkled his nose, but nodded. "By your order." He stalked off to tend to his own horse.

"Well done."

Salla almost jumped at the sound of Tisallan's voice. "Thank you." She hesitated a moment. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I sincerely doubt I could stop you." He caught the horse's head and began putting on a bridle.

"Why weren't you afraid of Urthemiel?"

Tisallan adjusted the bridle, and petted the horse's neck before answering. "Why weren't you?"

"I..." Salla blinked. "Actually, that's a pretty good question. He's..." She glanced back at where Kieran was helping pack a tent. "I guess I knew I didn't need to be."

"There is danger yet ahead, Mirthadri." Tisallan nodded. "Be wary."

#

"Should be easy enough." Gavren shrugged.

"I thought you'd say that." Salla nodded. "I imagine you are pretty experienced in the Fade."

"Leandra?" Gavren raised an eyebrow at her.

"No."

"You sure?"

"About not getting dragged into the Fade. Absolutely." Leandra slashed a hand downward. "In fact, I'll be over there. Wide awake. Maybe drink some coffee."

"I thought you liked fighting dragons." Gavren smiled.

"I like it when the damn ground stays where it is supposed to."

"You can bring a non-mage into the Fade?" Duncan looked from Leandra to Gavren and Salla.

"It's a bit tricky, but yes." Salla gestured. "And with Kieran to help, it should go smoothly." She turned back to Gavren. "I'll show you where Feynriel and I meet. That way, if I can't check in for some reason, you or Kieran can."

"I want to come." Duncan rose and joined them.

"Are you mad?" Jerath stood as well.

"You don't have to come." Duncan shook his head at Jerath. "I'll just be asleep. Five feet from you." Jerath narrowed his eyes, and for a moment Salla was pretty sure Duncan was going to get punched again. "It's the only way I'll get to talk to my father without getting shoved into a barrel."

"He'll be fine." Gavren nodded to Jerath. "Salla and I are old hands at this, and Kieran is well..." He shrugged. "Kieran."

"No." Jerath gestured with one hand.

"You do remember which one of us gives the orders, right?" Duncan folded his arms.

"You do remember which one of us can put the other in a barrel, right?" Jerath stood his ground.

"Once Salla locates Feynriel and whomever he brings, I can pull everyone into our demesne." Kieran tilted his head. "There will be no danger of outside interference then."

"Duncan."

"We'll need you out here anyway, in case something attacks the camp." Duncan put his hand on Jerath's shoulder.

"The Fade is dangerous enough for mages." Jerath shook his head. "It is a stupid risk to take."

"It's my decision, and it is final."

Jerath growled. "Yes, your majesty." His tone made the words manage to sound both threat and insult. He stalked back to where he had been sitting. Agatha came up to stand beside him and glared daggers at Duncan.

Duncan turned around, ignoring them both. "What do I do?"

#

"What do I do?" Alistair raised an eyebrow at Hawke.

"Lenore will be performing magic on this end, enough to send us all into the proper state. Feynriel will do the rest." Hawke gestured haphazardly. "All you need to do is relax."

"Under the circumstances, that may be easier said than done." Alistair chuckled.

"I would prefer to avoid another visit to the Fade, personally." Zevran shook his head.

"It's not a demon pulling this time." Lenore smiled reassuringly. "Brehan?"

"I would rather undergo the Joining again." Brehan didn't look up from where he was writing a missive.

"Fenris?"

"Yes."

Hawke blinked, and turned towards him. "You?"

Fenris looked uncomfortable, but nodded. "Yes."

"I am coming as well." Cullen spoke up.

Lenore blinked. "Cullen..."

"If Salla brings anyone along, it will most likely be her fellow mages." Cullen looked a little bit green. "And I need to see my son."

#

"Where are we, exactly?" Duncan looked around. It was a garden of some kind, but everything appeared just slightly off kilter. Roses and strawberries decorated the same plant.

"The garden at my family's estate." Salla touched one of the roses.

Duncan shivered slightly. "Why is everything floating?"

A deep voice answered. "The Fade is not a direct representation of your world. It is not architecture or geography that matters here, but concept and symbol. It is an expression of thought."

Duncan glanced from Urthemiel to Salla. "Um..."

Salla and Gavren exchanged a rueful look, and then Salla nodded to Duncan apologetically. "We should have thought to warn you."

"The waking me is Kieran." Urthemiel waved one hand carelessly. "This is the world of dreams." His head tilted.

"Okay." Duncan shifted awkwardly.

Gavren touched Duncan's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"I don't know." Duncan took a deep breath. "It keeps changing, moving in the corner of my eye and the shadows aren't lining up. It's just..." He swallowed. "Wrong."

Urthemiel's eyes swirled slightly, and abruptly the area seemed to snap into focus. The edges righted themselves, and everything lined up to a single gravity. "Are you more comfortable now?"

"Yes." Duncan closed his eyes and reopened them. "Thank you." He nodded to Urthemiel.

"What is the Fade like for you?" Salla asked Urthemiel.

"Home." Urthemiel looked around. "The air of your world is empty and unchanging."

"Is it true?" Duncan turned back towards him. "About the Black City, and all of..."

"There are questions I will answer for you." Urthemiel's eyes swirled. "That is one I will not."

"Can I ask why not?" Duncan raised an eyebrow.

"The Fade responds to strong emotion, and such things draw spirits and demons alike." Urthemiel tilted his head. "And you are already frightened enough."

"Kind of regretting asking at all now." Duncan looked around. "How long do you think we'll need to wait?"

"They come." Urthemiel turned.

#

Gavren smiled when he saw Hawke and Fenris rush forward to throw their arms around their daughter, and then he saw who else had come with them. "Father?"

"Gavren." Cullen walked towards him and pulled him into a hug.

He returned it, holding his father tightly. "You..." His father had entered the Fade. "Came to..." The world of dreams and spirits.

"I needed to see you were alive." Cullen loosened his hold and stepped back slightly, looking him over before hugging him again. "You're alive." His voice became fierce. "Do you have any idea how worried we've been?"

"You came to the Fade." Gavren nearly choked on the words. "I'm starting to get the idea."

Abruptly the Fade around them shifted. The graceful garden vanished, replaced by walls of stone. Carved mabari decorated pillars inside what appeared to be a fortress.

"The Vigil." He heard Alistair's startled voice. "This looks like Vigil's Keep."

"My apologies." Urthemiel's voice caused them all to turn. "There was a lot of emotion, and I thought it best to bring everyone to a safer location."

"Good idea." Feynriel started to nod, and then his eyes widened. "Oh..." He made a choking sound. "Oh my..." He stared. "You're..."

"Urthemiel, this is Feynriel, Cullen, Hawke, Fenris, and Alistair. Everyone, Urthemiel." Salla pointed to each in turn. She frowned, and pointed at Urthemiel again. "No picking on Alistair."

"Spoilsport."

#

"Stop pacing." Caleb glared. "You're making me tired."

Kels and Jerath both shot him annoyed looks and continued pacing. Leandra shook her head at them. "They'll be fine. Gavren has done this before. He's even dragged me along."

Caleb went back to rummaging in one of the packs. He broke into a wide smile when he finally found what he was looking for. "Aha."

"Aha?" Agatha glanced down at what he was holding, and grinned. "Aha."

"What are you two..." Kels raised an eyebrow, and then smiled.

Jerath's eyes went to the paintbrush and bottle of ink Caleb was holding, and then he turned towards Trian. "I am going to walk a patrol outside the camp, just to be safe." He glanced back at Caleb before addressing Trian again. "Let me know when I'm done."

#

"Did you just order an Old God around?" Gabriel stared down at his daughter.

"He was pretty mean to Brehan." Salla shrugged. She shifted awkwardly. "So, um..."

"You do understand that you are grounded for the rest of your natural life, yes?" Fenris raised an eyebrow at her.

"Father..." Salla folded her arms. "You remember the part where I am twenty years old?"

Fenris put his hands on her shoulders. "No. You are eleven. You are my daughter, and you will always be eleven." He pulled her into a hug again.

"Is your brother alright?" Gabriel asked.

"He is." She smiled. "We all are safe."

"No, you are not." Gabriel shook his head. "Salla, there is a cult, an ancient elven god, a powerful demon, and who knows what else after you." He put his hand on her shoulder. "A good man already gave his life to protect your friends."

"Noamin." Salla's voice was small. "Papa, we've come too far to turn back. The Formless One is targeting Gavren and Duncan in particular, and we aren't leaving them. The only way to keep everyone safe us for us to make sure that rift never happens in the first place."

"Salla..."

"There are spies everywhere. In Kirkwall. In the Inquisition. In House Brosca. Anywhere we can turn for help. We've got the best shot at this." She squared her shoulders, and met his eyes. "At our age, the Wardens saved the world."

He stared back at her. At years of teaching her to be proud of who she was, to stand up for herself, and her friends, and what she felt was right. "I'm not ready for you to find your wings."

"Oh, Papa." She hugged him.

#

"You..." Cullen shook his head. "Your mother is worried sick."

Gavren hung his head. "I know." He sighed. "Father, I..." He closed his eyes, and took a couple deep breaths. "You had four more years."

"Four more..." Cullen raised an eyebrow.

"To prepare yourself for the possibility I'd be a mage. I..."

Cullen caught him, and pulled him into a fierce hug. "Don't you ever think you need to be ashamed of what you are." He held his son. "If I have ever given you reason to think otherwise..."

"No." Gavren's voice was raw. "You never did."

"Come back to Kirkwall. We'll come up with a plan."

"The Inquisition has spies within its ranks, and Fen'Harel has already tried to get to Kieran once. We are safer on the move." Gavren took a step back. "Father, sixteen years from now, you and Mother both trust me to handle things. I'm asking you to trust me now."

"I thought, once..." Cullen's eyes were wet. "That watching your mother go to battle was the hardest thing I would ever have to do."

"I'm not alone."

"No." Cullen nodded. "You have Leandra. I wish you had told me."

"That we were in the process of eloping when that spell caught us?" Gavren smiled sheepishly. "Surprise."

"Just..." Cullen shook his head. "No. No eloping. You will get married in Skyhold, properly, with an embarrassingly large banquet." He narrowed his eyes. "At which occasion you will be clean shaven and have your hair neatly trimmed."

"Yes ser."

"Tell Kels..." Cullen sighed. "Tell Kels I am grateful he is there to look out for my fool of a son." He managed a smile. "And tell Leandra the same."

#

"Like this." Alai drew the characters in the dirt with a stick.

Agatha duplicated the marks with the brush. "Like that?"

"Almost perfect. You made this a little too wide, but it is legible." Alai nodded.

"Can I just say it's hilarious the elves even have an actual word for that?" Loghain held out his hand. "My turn."

"You'll just draw lewd pictures." Agatha pulled the paintbrush away from him.

"Well..." Loghain nodded. "Yes."

"I feel like I should be putting a stop to this." Kels shook his head, and then smiled. "Can I have a turn?"

Leandra grinned, and handed him a paintbrush. Trian rolled his eyes, and glanced at Tisallan. "Shouldn't you be putting a stop to this?"

Tisallan looked up from where he was adding more wood to the fire. "I see nothing."

#

"You arranged a marriage between Loghain and your sister?"

"It was a sensible decision at the time." Duncan sighed. "If Anora hadn't..." He swallowed. "There were agitators. Orlais was just waiting for us to start fighting among ourselves so they could move in. Half the country wanted Fergus on the throne, the other half wanted Anora. Both of them kneeling to the 'boy prince' kept us whole." He took a deep breath. "Cousland is already bound to Therin in blood. Arranging a union between Therin and Mac Tir seemed logical. Healing the wounds of the past and all that." He shook his head. "I just didn't anticipate him being an asshole and her never growing out of the stubborn pain in the neck thing."

"How did you even get her to agree to the notion?"

"That's the worst part." Duncan hung his head. "They actually like each other just fine. Wynne made it very clear I was to mind my own business." He rubbed his jaw in memory. "And she's the one that inherited your fighting skills."

Alistair smiled. It slowly faded. "You need to come back to Kirkwall."

"No."

"Duncan." His eyes narrowed.

"Father, if I stop this Formless One..." Duncan clenched his fists. "I saw you and Mother and Uncle Rory die." He met his father's eyes. "I have a duty. To you, to Ferelden, to Wynne and Bryce and Maric, to make sure that does not happen."

"You..." Alistair took a deep breath. "Sound just like your mother. Duncan, the risk you are taking -"

"Is no different than some of the risks you've taken. I'm four years older than you were when you joined the Wardens."

"Making me think back to how young and stupid I was then and how many times I nearly got killed is not helping your case." Alistair gestured sharply. "I had a dragon stand on me."

"And the guy who killed that dragon?" Duncan drew himself to his full height. "His son is with us. And bringing an Old God along for the ride. Not to mention two more very powerful mages, five of the most talented warriors in Thedas, a woman who is well on her way to being one of the greatest spymasters of all time, two elven warriors that were kicking ass before humans started making swords, and the guy who made the entire Seeker Order look like a bunch of idiots." He shrugged. "And I'm not bad with a bow."

Alistair folded his arms. "We had a golem. And a Qunari."

"We had a bunch of golems in Nessum." Duncan gestured with one hand. "And I'll tell Salla to kidnap Iron Bull next."

"And we had a mabari."

"Kieran is a shapeshifter."

"We had no other options available."

"I..." Duncan looked away, and shook his head. "Gavren, Kieran, and I are the thing's primary targets. As long as the cult is busy hunting us, you and the Inquisition can keep stripping its resources. A joint effort."

"Duncan..."

"Father, you should go back to Ferelden. Wynne, Bryce, and Maric need you there."

"That, young man, is fighting dirty."

"If we need your forces, we can get in contact with you."

#

"Where are we, exactly?" Alistair asked as they regrouped. "This is Vigil's Keep, but it isn't."

"In the Fade, powerful spirits often have their own demesne. This one belongs to The Warden."

"Is he..." Alistair turned towards Urthemiel. "But he isn't here?"

"There are questions I will answer." Urthemiel met his eyes steadily. "And questions I will not. Where he is, and what he is doing, are among the latter."

"Just um..." Alistair nodded, and then shrugged. "Let him..." He swallowed. "Thank him for us, please? And her, too?"

"I shall."

"Melavan filled us in on most of it." Cullen kept his hand on Gavren's shoulder. "Have you learned anything else about the staff?"

"What staff?" Urthemiel turned the glowing eyes towards Cullen.

"I'll explain later." Salla nodded to him. "And yes, we may have. When the sentinels attacked, Urthemiel created a staff out of Fade-stone."

"Given its particular properties, we think that this Tilde staff may be something like it, perhaps something Urthemiel created back then, at the height of his power. Considering what you can do with the Key..." Gavren gestured at Hawke.

"You..." Alistair gave Urthemiel a curious look. "Really don't remember the staff?"

Urthemiel raised an eyebrow at Salla. Salla nodded to him. "You hid it, warded it, then erased your own memory of it." She furrowed her brow. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"To keep it from another."

"The Formless One and its ilk?"

"Or one of my siblings."

"You mean the other Old Gods?" Feynriel shook his head.

"Why would you want to keep it from them?" Hawke asked.

"We were not always in agreement, and our goals often differed." Urthemiel shrugged. "And frankly Dumat was always something of an arsehole."

"Would..." Cullen hesitated a moment. "Would Razikale remember?"

"Her memories were badly damaged, with entire centuries erased."

"Hang on..." Alistair held up a hand. "Her?"

"Razikale was my sister."

"But..."

"And now Mythal's husband." Urthemiel shrugged. "Whatever you do, try not to think about how awkward that gets at times."

"Too late." Alistair winced and buried his face in his hand.

"I asked you not to do that." Salla put her hands on her hips.

"You said not to 'pick on'." Urthemiel met her eyes. "That was 'messing with'."

"Back to the topic at hand, if we could?" Duncan glared. "Fen'Harel would know about the staff though?"

"It is possible that he knows only that it exists, and is powerful enough that the Formless One is going through a lot of trouble to obtain it." Gavren shrugged. "Which is reason enough for him to have an interest in obtaining it and any advantage it could give..." He frowned. "It wasn't tuned to my key."

"Gavren?" Cullen raised an eyebrow at him.

"The staff Urthemiel made recently. He gave it to Salla. She can use it easily, but I can't. He, or Kieran to be specific, said it wasn't tuned to my key. Whatever this Tilde Staff is, could Fen'Harel even use it?"

"He has strength enough now to override certain magics." Urthemiel tilted his head. "You could, if you so desired, bend the staff to your will, though not without some difficulty. Fen'Harel's knowledge of such things is far greater than yours."

"What about you?" Alistair folded his arms. "What happens if you get the staff?"

"My goals align with those of Razikale and Mythal."

"No offense, but um..." Alistair hesitated a moment. "You did kind of start a Blight."

"True." Urthemiel nodded. "But one, I am no longer tainted, and two, unlike some other gods I could mention, I've grown out of my angsty teenage phase."

Choking sounds came from Gavren and Cullen as they both tried not to laugh. Alistair sighed, and then shook his head. "No. I trust Jerath. He would not have sent you to help if you presented a danger."

"Where are you all heading next?"

"We talked about it. Given what occurred in Starkhaven, we'd like people to think we are heading into Qarinus." Salla clasped her hands behind her back.

"Which implies you are not heading to Qarinus." Hawke narrowed his eyes.

"And hopefully means you aren't heading into Tevinter at all." Fenris added.

"We'll check in with you every three days. Urthemiel and I should be able to find all of your dreams now. However, due to Fen'Harel being a factor, we are going to continue to ward ours."

"I am not happy about this." Alistair folded his arms, and glared again at his son.

"Nor am I." Fenris put a protective hand on Salla's shoulder.

"We wouldn't be having this problem at all if the rest of you were better role models." Hawke shook his head.

"I hate you." Alistair glared.