9:41 Dragon

The villager had tears in his eyes as Theo handed him the medication he'd tracked down on the other side of the Hinterlands. "Thank you. Maker bless you. Thank you. My wife will be able to breathe again."

Theo smiled, tired but glad he'd been able to track down the man's apostate son-a needle in a flaming haystack, with the sheer amount of apostates swarming the countryside. "Just doing the Inquisition's work," he said, sounding a little too bright, a little too forced, but this was all so much to get used to.

"Come on, let's let the captain know that we got rid of the bandits, too," he told Cassandra, Varric, and Solas.

The apostate elf smiled. "What's happened is terrible," he said. "I'm glad we can help."

Theo was glad too. He still didn't understand this strange mark on his hand. He still didn't know how it got there, or why only he could close the tears in the Fade that poured demons into a countryside already torn apart by fighting mages and templars. But he did understand that he had some capacity to help, and if it meant tracking down wayward sons and fighting off bands of thieves, he was glad to do it. Besides, it felt good to be useful rather than withering away within Chantry walls.

It was definitely overwhelming. Every time he looked up to the Breach roiling in the sky he was reminded of what a huge undertaking this was. Traipsing through southwestern Ferelden, locating apostate supply caches and neutralizing rogue templar threats didn't seem to make a dent in the war on the ground, or affect the magical tempest in the sky. They couldn't even acquire horses for Cullen's proposed cavalry unless they helped clear out a den of seemingly possessed wolves that were attacking Master Dennett's Redcliffe farm.

"The Breach may have driven them mad; or perhaps they became possessed by demons," Solas said. His voice was sorrowful and his long fingers stroked the slightly singed fur of a dead wolf. He murmured something in elven.

"Do you know a lot about wolves, Solas?" Cassandra asked, cleaning off her sword.

He didn't look up. "I know they are intelligent, practical creatures that small-minded fools look at as terrible beasts." He cleared his throat and got to his feet. "I am sorry it came to this for these creatures. But we have helped Master Dennett, and that is what we set out to do."

9:44 Dragon

Manipulative bastard. Theo ground his teeth together and forced one foot in front of the other. Lying piece of shit. He blinked the tears and sweat out of his stinging eyes and held his left arm close to his body. He hoped the Viddasala and her troops were too focused on apprehending Solas, their agent of Fen'Harel; if he had to fight, he would be useless. He would probably have to use his mark to take the elf down, and he would enjoy every moment of it, even if it killed him in the process.

The Eluvian out of the Darvaarad had led him into another elven ruin. Where it had been nighttime in Par Vollen, it was sunrise here. The sky was pink and orange, the air misty and cool and sweet. A few birds flew overhead, and waterfalls splashed into crystal clear pools. Theo was able to follow the wet prints of the Qunari who'd come before him. He couldn't let the Viddasala get to Solas before he did. He couldn't let her kill the man who'd made him little more than a puppet.

That hurt almost as much as his hand. He'd been in the wrong place at the right time and stopped Corypheus. But it had been a lucky accident. Since his miraculous survival Solas had been pulling his strings and manipulating the Inquisition toward his own ends. Theo had thought he was powerful: that he was someone, that he and his work meant something. That had been a mistake all along.

He paused to catch his breath. His left arm was numb now, green light pulsing through his veins and crackling out his fingertips. It was as if the closer he got to Solas, the hungrier the mark became. It was going to devour him.

"Theodane!"

He turned. Dorian had followed him through the mirror. His dark hair was a mess and his cheeks were flushed. He couldn't drag Dorian into this. Dorian had been as much a pawn as he had, and that was bad enough. And he couldn't let Dorian face Solas, and perhaps also the Viddasala and her mage. He would not be responsible for Dorian being harmed. "Stay back, Dor," he croaked. "I'm not safe. It's going to hurt you."

Dorian's nostrils flared and he looked stricken. Then he regained his composure and continued toward Theo. Behind him, Bull and Varric had come through as well. Dorian held up one hand and the other two hung back. Dorian approached Theo, heedless of the uncontrolled energy starting to consume him from the inside out. "It's hurting you , love," Dorian said. "And that pains me in turn." Theo tried to pull away, but Dorian held him tightly. "I've been with you every step of the way. Let me come with you and help you now as well."

Theo nodded at last, torn between pushing Dorian away from the inevitable end, and clinging to him desperately. "I love you, Dorian," he whispered, and Dorian kissed him.

They followed the Qunari footprints. There was no sign of a battle or struggle, and Bull swore when the prints ended right in front of yet another Eluvian. "I'm sick of this elven magical shit," he growled.

"I know," Theo said. "I'm going to end it. I'm going to end Solas."

"He wasn't all bad, was he?" Dorian asked with a smile. "If he hadn't had his little scheme we'd never have met." He kissed Theo lightly once more and when he pulled back his grey eyes were glassy.

Cassandra crying was bad enough, but Theo couldn't handle Dorian shedding tears over him. "I love you Dorian. Always have, always will," he whispered before turning and stumbling headlong toward the mirror.

Dorian screamed his name as he fell through the glass. Theo fully expected Dorian and the other two to follow him; but when he glanced back the glass was flat and dark. His heart skipped a beat and his stomach twisted. He was trapped here in ruins lost to time and place.

He would mourn later, if his hand didn't kill him first. He got to his feet and moved forward. There were more Qunari statues here, like the ones he'd seen in the first ruins they'd found. One huge Saarebas, clawing at the air, with stone chains flying outward, and stone thread snapped as its mouth opened in a final scream. And one, with intricately carved ropework around her petrified horns, holding a spear in mid air. A spear aimed at the bald elf dressed in gilded armor, wearing a wolf pelt, smiling and waiting for Theo. "Solas," he hissed in greeting.

"Inquisitor Trevelyan," Solas said with a sad smile.

"You're the agent of Fen'Harel." He couldn't keep standing. His legs gave out and he knelt in the soft grass.

Solas cocked his head to the side curiously. "Agent? No. I am no agent of the Dread Wolf. But I'm sure you must have questions."

Theo stared at his wolf pelt; at the jawbone necklace he still wore about his neck. He recalled the self-portrait fresco stored at the Darvaarad. "You… you are the Dread Wolf?"

"Solas came first," he said. "Fen'Harel, later. Fen'Harel, a name to inspire hope in my friends and fear in my enemies. Not too much unlike you, I suppose." Solas sighed and stared down at him, him blue-gray eyes pitying. "I know your burden," he said, unconcerned by the violent light bathing him and turning him bright green. Theo looked up, vision blurred by tears. "You inspire hope in your friends; fear in your enemies. You want to change the world, and the world fears change. So it turns on you."

"The world didn't turn on me. This mark did," Theo choked out. He held his arm close to his body, trying so hard to find something to make the agony stop. His hand was on fire, burning from the inside out with the heat of the Fade energy. He turned his head to the side and vomited on the grass, which curled with the heat of his expanding mark.

"The mark made you who you are," Solas said, dropping to one knee and looking at him with those ancient eyes. There was pity, but no sadness or regret.

Hatred welled up in Theo. He looked down at his hand and promptly threw up again. The green light was flaying away the flesh and muscle and melting away the bones underneath. Charred skin drifted on the air like cinders and his fingertips were little more than green light. "The mark chose me," he hissed. "I made me who I am. You? You just used me. I was just your pawn."

Solas had the decency to bow his head and look away. "I never thought for things to happen as they did. You, your Inquisition… it was all a means to an end, yes. But you did deserve better than this. Like everyone else I've used in one hopeless battle after another. But this time I will win. To save my world, I must end this one."

"I'll kill you first," Theo snarled, but he couldn't get to his feet.

"I am sorry, Theodane. I bear you no ill will. In fact I often admired your insight. I once asked what kind of hero you might become. I was pleased to see that you were a good one."

Another flash of green light, and Theo's blood roared in his ears. His heart raced and he couldn't breathe. His wrist was disintegrating. His stomach heaved. His vision swam. "Then just kill me," he gasped, falling forward, hand outstretched. Leliana had once told him that anger was stronger than pain; but this was unbearable. His rage at Solas was eclipsed by the searing flesh and the disintegrating bone.

"Your death, here and now, would cause untold problems," Solas said, rising to his feet. "We've headed off the Qunari invasion that would certainly have destroyed the South; if you die they'd blame the Qunari and launch a futile assault on Par Vollen to avenge the Inquisitor." Theo tried to breathe through the pain and couldn't. He saw stars.

"With luck, they'll turn their attentions to Tevinter after this and buy me time," Solas said. "That mirror will return you to Halamshiral. I'm truly sorry." He turned his back. He stepped through another Eluvian. The glass darkened and a crack resounded over the high pitched whine of the Fade ripping Theo's arm to shreds.

Theo rolled over and writhed on the ground under the pale sun. He grabbed his arm at the elbow, holding it close and digging his fingers into the muscles as if he could squeeze away the pain. Screams welled up in his lungs and tore from his throat. He wished he could escape, pull out of his own skin and run away from this agony.

But worst of all was the realization that he'd failed. He hadn't stopped the Viddasala, Solas had. And he hadn't stopped Solas, either. Whatever the Dread Wolf planned would happen, because he'd been unable to stop him. The pain had been too great, and he hadn't been strong enough to withstand it anymore. He'd failed, and that hurt worse than anything.

"THEO!" Dorian screamed, hands splayed across the dark glass of the Eluvian before him. He pulled out every spell he could to make the glass move, to let him through. The Fade spirits that so often communicated with him were agitated, flitting back and forth between the thin Veil and the real world. Misty purple skeletons and amorphous spirits drifted around him, their moans of confusion drowning out his cries.

Don't do this to me, you bastard! he thought as he pounded the mirror's surface, willing it to move, to let him through. Had Theo's mark been the key letting them through these mirrors? Were they stuck forever in these ruins where it was always cool sunrise?

The moments ticked by and Dorian's mana seeped out of him. He pulled from the Fade, trying everything he could to get the mirror working. Then Bull's huge hands were under his arms, picking him up, pulling him away from the Eluvian, and Dorian snapped to attention again. "No! I'm not leaving! There must be a way through!"

"Dorian, stop," Bull said softly. "He knew what he was doing."

Dorian spun around, wrenching his arm out of Bull's grasp. "No. Not this again. I left him at Haven, at the mercy of Corypheus. I won't leave him again." He lunged back toward the mirror.

"You love him."

"Of course I do, you brute!" His eyes burned with tears.

"Then let him go."

Dorian looked between Bull and Varric. Varric nodded. "He knew what he needed to do, Sparkler," Varric said, laying a hand on his arm.

It felt like a clawed hand reaching down his throat and into his chest to pull out his heart. The Fade spirits hovered at the edge of his vision. Perhaps Varric and Bull were right… then he remembered the pained expression on Theo's pale and sweaty face and thought of him through the looking glass, dying alone…

He pulled away from Varric and used what mana he still had to call the spirits together again. A ball of lightning coalesced in his hands. He stormed toward the Eluvian, surrounded by spirits and fired off the magical lightning. It was certain death, but so was a world without Theo.

He pitched into, then through the glass. There was a moment of breathless weightlessness before he landed in a patch of grass surrounded by Qunari statues. "No," he whispered, tripping over himself to get to Theo's side.

And then Dorian was straddling him, holding his head in his hands. " Amatus . Theo. Theo, please," he said in a shaky voice. He wiped the sweat off Theo's forehead and held him. "Shhh. Please. I'm here." He stroked his hair out of his face. The green glow reflected in Dorian's silvery gray eyes and made his warm toned skin look sallow and sick. He tried to smile. "We'll stop this." Yet even as he said it he didn't know how it was possible. The damage was done, and aside from replicating Alexius's time magic, he was helpless.

"Kill me. Killmekillmekill me," Theo babbled. He was sweating, his breath coming in shallow gasps and his green eyes glassy. "Dorian please, make it stop. Kill me," he gasped, reaching for Dorian with his right hand.

Dorian looked up at the Iron Bull, who had come through the Eluvian just after him; whatever had spelled it had been lifted to allow them through just in time. "He won't make it, will he," he said. Theo was writhing even under Dorian's weight on his torso; his right hand fumbled to take hold of Dorian's robes while his left arm was slowly dissolving into green cinders.

Bull closed his one eye and sighed. "No. Not with the fucking mark eating his arm away." His nostrils flared and he shook his horned head. "Can you part with that belt?" he asked, gesturing to one of the tooled leather belts at Dorian's waist. Dorian wordlessly undid the buckle and handed the belt over to Bull. Bull grunted his approval and knelt down. "Varric, you too," he said, and the dwarf complied. "Hey Boss. Hey. Over here."

Theo flicked his eyes to Bull. His lips looked bluish and his voice shook. "C-c-can you… m-make it… stop?"

Bull looped Dorian's belt around Theo's arm, just above the elbow. The angry green magic was melting away the bones of his forearm. Bull nodded. "Yeah, I can, but it's probably going to hurt." He pulled the belt tight. Dorian's stomach lurched as he realized what Bull was planning.

"Worse than… than this?" Theo was in shock; if the magic kept up at this pitch, Dorian was certain it would kill him.

Bull glanced at the polished bow on the ground a few paces away. He tugged at the makeshift tourniquet once more. "Probably," he said. "Bite down on this, Boss. It's better than chewing your own tongue off or breaking teeth." He gently wedged one of Varric's belts between Theo's teeth. He stood. "Dorian, hold him down. Lean on his shoulder, if you can, keep his arm still. Varric, sit on his legs. He's going to kick." He reached behind him and hefted his axe.

Horror flooded through Dorian, turning his blood to ice. He stared up at the Qunari, a big horned shadow against the oblique rays of the sun. "You can't be serious."

"You're right," Bull said, looking up from the blade he was testing with his finger. Blood bubbled up on the fingertip and he wiped it off on his pants. "This is a terrible idea. We'll just let the fucking green magic light slowly eat him while we watch. That sounds like fun ."

Dorian looked down; Theo shivered and stared up at the sky while the magic consumed him. Dorian laid a hand on his cheek; he was cool and clammy. "Do it," he said to Bull. His heart was in his throat, choking him. His eyes were hot as he silently begged whomever would listen to spare Theo's life. "I'm sorry," he said, and leaned all his weight onto Theo's left shoulder. He hoped Bull's aim with the axe would be true.

Bull murmured something in Qunlat. He raised his axe. Dorian closed his eyes and winced as he heard the metal sing through the air.

Theo screamed in his ear and it was all Dorian could do to hold him down as he writhed and kicked under him. He swallowed the sobs that wanted to come out and murmured nonsensical Tevene. Things he remembered his mother saying to him when he was young, when she thought he wouldn't hear or remember; when she thought he was sleeping. Theo's right arm flailed and he tried to grab at Dorian's robes, hand slapping at his back like a fish out of water might flap on the land: lost, desperate, pained.

Bull knelt down. "I'll hold him down. You need to seal the wound."

"You can't mean…"

"He'll die if you don't."

Dorian looked up, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. He glanced over and his stomach heaved nearly up into his rib cage. The green light was eating what was left of Theo's forearm, lying in the grass; the rest of Theo's arm was a stump severed just above the elbow. Blood pumped from the wound, the tourniquet helping to slow it, but without sealing the wound, he would bleed to death.

His hands shook as he held them toward the bleeding stump. He could hardly hear Theo sobbing over the rush of blood in his ears. He tried to breathe deep, to stare at the cut clinically, to rely on logic to convince himself that this was what had to happen to save Theo's life. He pulled at threads of mana. He'd saved Theo's life with fire once before, long ago when he'd first joined the Inquisition. He would do it again.

Dorian channeled the flame magic in a concentrated, steady stream at the stump. Bull chanted in Qunlat while Theo shrieked and tried to kick Varric away. The smell of singed hair and roasting flesh nauseated him, but he kept up the flames. He burned away the edges of tissue and the severed strands of muscle and the end of bone. At last he released his grip on the magic, turned away, and threw up.

He wiped his hand across the back of his mouth. He tasted sour bile and the tang of smoke and charred meat. He felt so dizzy, so light. Varric's shoulders slumped as he climbed off of Theo. Even Bull looked… not grim. Sad. Bull did not do 'sad'. Bull did grim, stoic, disappointed, angry. Not sad. Not like he could break, like he looked now.

The green light faded, leaving them in the golden glow of the sun. The air was warm and quiet without the whine of the mark. Finally Bull heaved a weary sigh and stood up. He wiped the blade of his axe on the grass and secured it on his back. "You okay, Dorian?" Dorian nodded. "You're a terrible liar," Bull told him, and Dorian felt a smile tug at his lips. It had to be shock after what he'd seen. What he'd done. "Let's get the Boss back," Bull said.

He hefted Theo up in his great arms and headed toward the Eluvian; Varric and Dorian followed. His feet felt like boulders as he slogged through the charred and bloody grass. He nearly tripped, and thought it was just his weariness; but when he looked down, the rosy-gold sunlight shone softly on polished wood.

Bull carried Theo through the Eluvian. Dorian carried Theo's bow.

Theo had cheated death yet again, but Dorian feared this time the cost was too high. He was alive, but barely, and there was nothing lucky about it.