A/N: I have the remnants still of my husband's cold, and I am dog-sitting for my folks. Both things combined mean I have no time to really edit this chapter. So, please keep that in mind you're more likely to see typos and whatnot. I did scan it quickly and corrected one, but I usually read through far more thoroughly so...yeah. Anyway, this is an action chapter, with a surprise twist I hope no one foresaw coming but has been building a while.

Thank you to all readers and reviewers! We're coming up on the end!

Forty-Nine

Harellan

Although Shila, Mathrel, and Abelas worked quickly inside the Fade once Solas had reshaped it to match the waking world, it seemed to take far too long to finish the runes. Solas oversaw each one personally, creating a hard surface for each rune to be drawn upon. As per usual, he also added the markings needed to ensure spirits could permeate the barrier and pass from restored Fade waking world to raw Fade and back again as they desired.

The raw Fade was fairly empty of spirits near the rift, but further from it there were wisps darting to and fro. A few more ambitious spirits had decided to emulate humanoid shapes moving about the crop fields, reenacting the memory of the farmers who'd inhabited this spot. They ignored the elves as they completed several enormous circles extending from the area around the rift to the farmhouse and then beyond to incorporate the human camps to the northwest and northeast.

After his work with the runes had been completed, Solas watched the spirits, feeling a slight melancholic tug on his heart. For ages he'd watched the world through reenactments like this when he'd grown tired of touching the sleeping minds of mages. The weakness of uthenera, the unending dream that'd kept him from dying after he'd erected the Veil, seemed so far away and yet…sometimes he wondered if he had never woken. Watching Ellana activate the runes, feeling the warm pressure of his love for her swelling in his chest, he could scarcely believe how greatly his life and his plans had changed. When the nearest wisps and spirits sensed his emotions they abandoned their reenactment to circle him like curious children and Solas had to chuckle and push his heavy thoughts from his mind.

When Ellana had charged each rune, they returned to the rift and stepped through it. Solas took point, which meant that he was the first to realize something wasn't right as he stepped into the hard earth of the waking world and heard shouts. Stiffening as he saw Lerand charging toward him, Solas immediately lunged out from the rift, twisting to look toward camp as he registered the warrior's words.

"We're under attack! Assassins!"

In the grayish light of twilight, Solas saw mage fire flare bright yellow-orange in the camp, then heard the crackle of lightning. Lavellan clan had formed a half-circle of warriors, hunters, and mages as they repelled attackers dressed in black—cloaked rogues wielding daggers.

Behind him, Solas heard Ellana shriek, "No! Sylvun!"

"Complete the rune circle, vhenan!" he shouted. Then, tossing up a barrier over their group, Solas Fade-leapt to the hill, stopping just behind one of the shadowy rogues. With a flash of his eyes he petrified the man, then summoned a Veilstrike with a grunt, smashing all those who were hostile to their group into the ground.

An arrow breezed in from somewhere around the hill, sizzling as it bounced off the barrier Solas had in place. Noting that there was at least one archer somewhere out in the darkness, Solas ignored it for now as he fixed his gaze on the next four assassins and petrified them before they could rise to their feet. The drain of mana made the world spin around him but Solas clenched his jaw and pushed through it, erecting another barrier over himself and everyone nearby.

He took an instant to look into the protected center of the camp, searching for a sign f Sylvun, and saw Lyris with her back to him, acting as backup for the clan. She had hunkered down protectively over Rinaya, Ashani, and another small elven boy too young to fight. In Rinaya's arms was her daughter Deya, and Ashani held the white halla-leather sling carrying Sylvun. Relief made his heart unclench yet simultaneously hardened his resolve to end this mess quickly.

With his mana already nearly as full as it could get with the Veil strangling him, Solas reached deep inside his core and summoned power for a mindblast. With a flourish motion of both arms, Solas unleashed it in a massive metallic bang that tore its way through the camp and down the hill. Like all his magic, it carried his will, allowing it to discern between friend and foe with ease. Though the sound startled clan Lavellan and the other Dalish and Elvhen, it proved harmless as it washed over them—but when it hit a cloaked assassin she screamed with agony. The mindblast blew her apart on impact—and killed the dozen or so other closest attackers on contact in the same way. One moment they were whole and alive, the next they dissolved in a wet, red splatter on the grass.

Nauseous from expelling so much energy at once, Solas sagged forward, breathing raggedly. Cries of alarm echoed through the camp as Lavellan clan gawked at the gore caused by the explosion, many of them likely unaware of what had happened or how. The clan finished the last visible assassins off easily, before Solas could recover enough to stand erect again.

He heard rapid footsteps rustling through the grass and turned to see Ellana, Lerand, and Samhel had reached him. She'd of course been unable to stand back while their son was in danger in favor of completing the rune circles, but she had apparently ordered Mathrel, Abelas, and Shila to continue work on the waking world marks. Solas offered her a wan smile, "Sylvun is safe, vhenan."

Her eyes still held a wild, fearful look as she registered his words with a nod. "I left the others to make the runes," she explained breathily. "But I couldn't—"

"I know," he interrupted her, voice gentle even as he raised his palm in the wordless command to stop. "But we must restore the Fade. If—"

"Fen'Harel!" Zevanni shouted, charging toward him. Her face was twisted in a vicious snarl. "We found their leader." Behind her, Solas saw two elven figures hauling a limp third between them and felt rage burn through him as he recognized the woman they carried.

"Briala," he snarled.

The rogue elf was conscious but weak, held up by Deshanna on her right and Var on her left. Her head lolled as she struggled to lift it and glare at Solas, one lip curling over her white teeth. "Dread Wolf," she answered, sneering with hate.

"You did this?" Ellana demanded from behind Solas, stomping forward and radiating rage. The Anchor, still glowing green from recent usage, crackled and sparked as she clenched her hands at her sides. "For Celene? Have you forgotten you're one of the People? Have you forgotten what I did for you?"

"I did this for the People," Briala growled, glaring at Ellana only a moment before she turned her eyes back on Solas and spat at him. The spittle missed but Zevanni struck Briala across the face in punishment. The next time Briala spat it was tinged with blood.

"Why have you done this?" Ellana asked, shouting and still shaking with rage. "You're delusional if you think attacking us is for the good of the People." She was silent a half-second before adding, "The elven people."

"You are the delusional one, Lavellan," Briala snarled. Her teeth had dark stains on them—blood—and the whites of her eyes were darkening as well. Solas realized she'd been caught by his mindblast just far enough out that she hadn't been killed, but she might yet die from the trauma of it. Zevanni's strike to her face likely hadn't caused her to bleed at all. She'd be hemorrhaging internally, dying slowly from the massive dose of force and spirit damage.

"You're dying," Solas told her, his voice cold and detached. "Whatever you hoped to accomplish here, you failed."

Briala spat again, blood trickling down her lip and onto her chin. Her breath sounded wet and ragged. "I did," she said, her voice thick, whether from blood or from emotion, Solas couldn't be certain. "But I will die free from your tyranny, Fen'Harel." She swallowed, her throat bobbing. "Someone else will make you pay for what you've done."

"And what is that, lethallan?" Ellana asked her. "Restoring immortality to the People? Reclaiming a homeland for the People?"

"The Conclave," Briala said with a wet cough. "The deaths of thousands at Halamshiral." She made a choking noise then and Solas saw moisture glimmering in her eyes. "Felassan."

And there it was. Solas closed his eyes and turned his head away, clenching his jaw as he recalled the Elvhen man's face: his violet eyes and the elaborate but fake vallaslin devoting him to Mythal.

"You are no leader for the People," Briala rasped. "No steward. No god."

Unable to stay silent at her last jab, Solas glared at her. "I have never claimed divinity, nor will I ever."

"Mythal told me of you," Briala said, sucking in a wet breath. She looked to Ellana and spoke in a pleading tone, "The Dread Wolf only brings war and ruin. He cannot rule our people unchecked."

"Our people?" Ellana retorted, shrill with outrage. "Our people? You mean the people you just attacked with a group of assassins? My clan? My friends? My son?" She took a threatening step forward, visibly shaking with fury. "You have no right to dictate to me who should lead when you are attacking us."

Laying a restraining hand on Ellana's shoulder, Solas edged closer to Briala and spoke in a soft voice. "You wish to aid the People, lethallan?" Not bothering to wait for her answer, he said, "Then you should know that Mythal plays the Game as well as Celene ever did and has been manipulating you. What she has told you about myself is true, after a fashion, but I have never intended to rule alone. I have no desire to be a dictator or tyrant."

He paused a beat, narrowing his eyes. "But I wonder what you would think if you but knew how Mythal ruled in Elvhenan. You have made countless excuses for the empress you love, and doubtless believe she a better leader than I, but Celene will never rule the Dales. It is Mythal who desires a share of power, and you must admit you know nothing of her. I wonder what you will say when you know more of her ways."

"You waste your breath," Briala grumbled, her head slumping forward. "I'm dying. The least you could afford me is some peace and quiet while I pass."

"There is no need for you to die, lethallan," Solas muttered with a small frown.

"What?" came the confused—or angry—chorus of reactions from around him. Not only Deshanna, Var, Ellana, and Zevanni, but also half of clan Lavellan staring at the exchange from camp.

"You cannot be serious," Zevanni snarled, gesturing angrily between Briala and Solas before her brown eyes darted to Ellana with something like disdain. "If this is because Lavellan is weak and would disapprove—"

"Disapprove?" Ellana countered with a scoff. "I'm ready to execute her myself!"

"Then do it," Zevanni shot back heatedly and drew a dagger from her belt, flipping it around to hold it by the blade and extending it to Ellana. "Kill this traitorous bitch."

Ellana glared at Zevanni and then shot Solas a bemused look. "What are you thinking, Solas?"

Staring at Briala, Solas said, "If we restore the Fade I can heal her."

"But why?" Var growled. "She will only try to kill you—kill us—again."

Still staring at Briala, Solas said, "I made a mistake when I killed Felassan. He was dear to me and I believed I had no choice when he betrayed me in order to save you." Slowly, he shook his head. "I have no desire to render his sacrifice pointless by letting you die."

"She's not worth the mana," Zevanni snarled. "Fen'Harel, you must—"

"Venavis," he growled at her. Stop. Facing Ellana, Solas gazed at her a moment before saying, "If you wish her to die, so be it, vhenan, yet she may prove valuable as a prisoner."

Ellana's eyes flicked between Solas and Briala, her mouth puckering as she considered. Then her brow furrowed and she sighed. "If you want to save her, Solas, I won't stop you."

"This is ludicrous," Zevanni snapped. She pivoted the blade around, gripping it at the haft and pivoting to face Briala. "If neither of you have the courage to—"

With a focused Veilstrike, Solas pushed Zevanni sideways. She skidded, her feet kicking up dust as she caught herself, dispelling most of the magic. Huffing angrily, she glared at Solas. "The fuck was that for?"

"Do not question me. Go. Make yourself useful. Leave with a few scouts and patrol the perimeter," Solas commanded her.

"But Fen'Harel," Var yelled, shaking his head in angry consternation. "You cannot—"

"Go with Zevanni," Solas ordered, gesturing at Var. When neither elf moved for a few moments, merely glowered with a mixture of confusion and outrage, Solas shouted, "Now."

Var released his hold on Briala and stalked off to join Zevanni as she turned on her heel and marched down the hill and into the full darkness of the nighttime. Briala, left with only Deshanna to support her, slumped to the ground, catching herself weakly with one arm. She grunted, coughing blood onto the grass as Deshanna tried to haul her upright again.

"Vhenan," Solas said, squeezing her shoulder. "We need to restore the Fade soon or she'll die."

Ellana hesitated, chewing the corner of her lip. "I can't say that motivates me all that much, Solas."

With a slow breath inward, Solas touched beneath Ellana's chin, tilting her head back until her hard, angry eyes locked with his own. Keeping his voice low, he said, "I killed Felassan because he defied me and insisted this world was worth saving. That she was worth saving." Leaning closer to her, he pressed his forehead to hers. "Is this not the same lesson you taught me?" Drawing away, he let go of Ellana and looked back to Briala. "I will not have her blood on my hands any more than I already do. For his sake."

Heaving a sigh, Ellana said, "Ma nuvenin, emma lath…Just…keep her away from our child."

"Without question," Solas replied with a somber nod.

As Ellana stalked off, Solas knelt and grabbed Birala's other arm. "I will take her, Keeper," he told Deshanna.

"I'm not about to leave you alone with this traitor, hahren," Deshanna grumbled under her breath.

"That's fine," Solas said with a dry chuckle. "But might I ask your help in laying her down?"

Deshanna helped him wordlessly lay Briala out on the hillside. In the orange light from the campfire several meters away, Solas saw the whites of Briala's eyes had gone dark with burst blood vessels. She wheezed with each breath but remained conscious, glaring at Solas through the dark.

"Saving me won't make me serve you," she growled, then broke off in a coughing fit, blood bubbling up between her lips. In the dark it was black like tar.

"That is not my intention," Solas said as he settled in the grass just out of reach from her. Deshanna sat on the opposite side of the ailing rogue, watching her with narrowed eyes. They fell into tense silence as they waited. In one direction Solas could see Ellana, Mathrel, Abelas, Shila, Lerand, Samhel, and a few other Dalish elves working to complete the runes to connect the waking world with its Fade counterpart. The crackle of the Anchor permeated the otherwise quiet, somber night as Ellana charged each rune. In the other direction, toward camp nearby, Solas saw Mahanon and Lyris beside the fire with Ashani and Rinaya, caring for and watching over the children.

"Tell me," Briala wheezed out suddenly. "About Elvhenan."

Solas glanced at her and saw the ashen pallor of her skin, glittering with sweat in the firelight on one side and with the faint green of the rift on the other. He let out a long breath. She was fading fast. "Save your strength, lethallan."

"No," Briala insisted, a gurgling sound in her throat. She coughed, shuddering, and Deshanna reached out to roll her onto her side as the rogue gagged on some blood in her throat. When the fit had passed she clutched at the grass, struggling to speak though her voice was so hoarse and her breathing so shallow she was difficult to understand. "Tell me," she gasped. "Who will…scrub your floors?"

"Keeper," Solas said, addressing Deshanna. The older woman lifted her head, staring at him avidly, her eyes bright in the firelight. "Who scrubs the floors in your clan?"

She frowned at him, finding the question nonsensical. "We don't have floors to scrub exactly, but if our aravels require cleaning, we clean them ourselves."

Briala closed her eyes and Solas didn't miss the small tear that slipped from the corner, flickering orange in the campfire light. "Tell me," she wheezed, swallowing. "About Mythal."

Ellana charged the runes in the large circle around their camp first to allow Solas to access his full power, but once that task was complete she barely allowed herself any time to enjoy the blissful caress of the restored Fade. They had the much larger circle to complete—if the humans didn't try to attack them. This last circle was so enormous it included both the Orlesian and the Divine's camp as well as the farmhouse. The huge size meant Ellana and her retinue could stay well away from the camps and hopefully attract little attention.

Hopefully.

While Lerand and Samhel, the quietest in her group, scouted ahead to place the runes using charcoal, under cover of darkness, Ellana walked with Mathrel, Abelas, and Shila to charge each mark individually. Her palm ached from the use and her mind kept drifting to the memory of Solas' solemn, plaintive stare as he told her of Felassan.

The mercy and patience he showed for the Orlesian rogue should have struck Ellana as beautiful, but the only thing she could feel was the hot and then cold grip of maternal panic when she recalled stepping through the rift and hearing her clan's cries. She'd envisioned Mythal running away with Sylvun, or attackers slitting her tiny baby's throat. The terror and fury that'd taken over her mind had been hard to think through at all and she'd sprinted at top speed to try and reach the camp, to save her family and her son.

"Are you all right, lethallan?" Abelas asked her quietly.

The question jarred her out of her morbid thoughts and she nodded, picking up the pace as they jogged to the next coordinal direction where they'd no doubt find Lerand and Samhel waiting for them with another rune in place and waiting to be charged. But as they rounded the hill in the dark, Ellana stiffened, her breath caught in her throat for a fraction of a second as she saw a dozen figures instead of just the two Dalish warriors. Abelas, Mathrel, and Shila also froze at her side, tensing, but Lerand raised a hand to signal them, motioning them over.

Gradually, as Ellana and her escort neared the group, she recognized Zevanni and a handful of Dalish Firsts and Elvhen scouts. This was the group Solas had sent out on patrol, performing reconnaissance around the human camps. A quick survey of the stars told Ellana they were closer to the Divine's camp here than they were to the Orlesians.

"Took you long enough," Zevanni said in a low voice, a hard grin curling over her lips. Her teeth were bright against the dark. Feral. Ellana struggled with an instinctual wariness inside her that made her want to shy away from the Elvhen woman. She knew Zevanni had left the foci elsewhere for these negotiations to avoid irritating the Anchor, but something about the other woman had always rubbed Ellana the wrong way—probably the fact that they were polar opposites of each other.

"Well," Zevanni said when Ellana was silent and hesitated. "Charge the fucking thing. We haven't got all night."

"This is the last one," Samhel informed her, sounding eager.

"About damn time, too," Lerand whined.

"I wonder if Fen'Harel has saved that traitorous bitch yet," Zevanni grumbled under her breath. Her gauntleted hands curled into fists at her side, the metal on her fingers clinking. "She doesn't deserve it."

"On that we are agreed," Ellana said as she quashed her unease and stepped forward, raising her palm and willing the Anchor to life. It crackled and flashed white-green, a pulse of energy shooting out to the charcoal rune the ground. As the rune absorbed the magic and lit up, activating, Ellana felt the air around her thicken with Fade ether and heard the resounding rush of air spread out through the grasses.

Then came the pleasurable swell of magic coiling inside her.

As the Anchor fell silent, Ellana shuddered as gooseflesh dimpled her skin and warmth permeated her. The elves around her all grinned and shivered with pleasure at the touch of the Fade as well, especially Zevanni as she groaned and flexed, rolling her shoulders in their sockets. Then, distantly, Ellana heard shouts of alarm.

"The shemlen must see a wisp or something," Samhel commented with a grunting laugh. In just the few weeks of exposure the Dalish, including Lavellan clan, had had to the restored Fade, they'd begun seeing most spirits as harmless or entertaining. Solas had once told Ellana the Fade was just another part of nature for the Elvhen. Now she could see how true that was becoming even for her own people.

"C'mon," Ellana said. "We should return to camp. I have a baby to feed."

"Right," Zevanni said and made a dismissive gesture. "Off with you, Lavellan." Something in her tone seemed…impatient?

The sense of unease stirred inside Ellana again, making her frown at the Elvhen woman. "Is everything all right, Zevanni?"

"Everything's fine," she replied curtly and made the dismissive gesture again. "Now, off with you."

Ellana hesitated, narrowing her eyes through the dark as she assessed the scouts with Zevanni. In that moment of motionlessness and silence, Ellana also heard more shouts from over the hill in the direction of the Divine's camp.

A chill crawled over her skin and she resisted the instinctual shiver. How…odd that in the group Zevanni had managed to pick out only Dalish who weren't members of clan Lavellan. And the Elvhen with her were fairly recent recruits, woken from uthenera over the last few months and brought to Halamshiral to teach the modern elves magic and bolster their numbers with hardened veterans of arcane warfare. Those hardened veterans stared back at her now, their faces tense in the pale light of the moon. The Dalish scouts all had postures that spoke of tension.

"What's happening here, Zevanni?" Ellana asked in a tight voice.

Zevanni let out a sharp, humorless laugh and shrugged. "Nothing. Just what Fen'Harel asked us to do."

"Scout the perimeter?" Mathrel asked, a note of skepticism in his voice.

"A curious assemblage you have for such a task, lethallan," Abelas put in.

Zevanni groaned, rolling her eyes. Then, suddenly, she whipped back toward them and Ellana had only a heartbeat to brace herself, raising her hands and erecting a barrier—a skill Solas had ingrained into her in the Emerald Graves with lessons during every moment of downtime. Yet the barrier shimmered and broke, sparking with a bluish glow as Zevanni, a far more powerful mage, shattered it with ease.

Ellana had an instant to see the purple-black flicker of lightning before it hit her, enveloping her in a static cage. Her muscles twitched, prickling with needle-sharp pain. Her head felt as though it swelled to three times its size, blood pounding in her ears as she fought to breathe through the agony holding her frozen in place. Over the ear-splitting crackle of storm magic all around her, Ellana heard booms and pops and saw the flash of mage fire, but her head was stuck in a downward position, letting her see her hands raised in a defensive gesture and her feet crouched against the dry spring grasses. She couldn't see the fight, but she knew her escort was outnumbered.

What in the void was Zevanni doing? But she already knew the answer to that. The restored Fade made the chance to kill the humans too much of a draw. Had Solas told Zevanni to do this in secret? Had their scuffle and disagreement been just a show to convince her?

No, she pushed the thought away, grimacing with the pain still crawling over her skin as Zevanni's static cage continued. She couldn't believe Solas would endorse this. Not after he'd spared Briala and been determined to save her when Ellana herself had been ready to watch the other elf die.

The sounds and lights of fighting died away almost as suddenly as they'd started and Ellana didn't have long to wonder who'd won the exchange before the crackling of her static cage abruptly ceased. With her muscles still twitching uncontrollably, Ellana slumped and fell to her knees with a cry. She gasped in air, shaking and quivering as storm magic kept sparking off her body into the air.

"It didn't have to be this way," Zevanni grumbled, her footsteps scratching over the dirt. "If you'd just headed back to camp with the rest of your lot in tow."

Coughing as she regained her breath and some semblance of control, Ellana snuck a quick glance around her and saw the arcane warriors with Zevanni had surrounded Abelas, Mathrel, and Shila, two on either side. Each warrior held their hands aloft, channeling storm energy into static cages to keep the stronger mages restrained. Lerand and Samhel were on their hand sand knees, surrounded by the Dalish scouts who held swords and spears aimed at them.

Did Zevanni mean to kill all of them? Had she lost her mind? Solas would kill her for this…

"Zevanni," Ellana croaked, struggling to look up at the Elvhen woman. "Have you gone mad?"

"Hardly," she replied, laughing. "I'm the only one here with the sense to see that this—" she gestured at the grasslands, vaguely indicating the human camps. "—all this shit is a bloody waste of time. Fen'Harel wouldn't be here wasting his time if it weren't for you" She snorted. "If it weren't for you, all of Thedas would already be ours and the damned Veil would be gone." She snarled, shaking her head as her hands moved into a casting position. "I should have done this ages ago."

"Solas will kill you for this," Ellana growled, her hands clenching into fists. Distantly, from the direction of the human camps, Ellana heard screams and the roar of fire, the clash of steel. I have to stop this. Her thoughts spun wildly, taking stock of the dagger at her waist and the bow and arrow quiver at her back…and the Anchor…

Zevanni laughed. "Wrong as usual, Lavellan. You think I'm fool enough to kill you?" She snorted. "Think again." Reaching inside her surcoat, Zevanni pulled out a small blade, no larger than a paring knife. "Those Tevinter bastards are good for only one thing, you know: Blood Magic. I learned a lot while I was there."

"Don't do this," Ellana said, shrill with panic as she saw Zevanni deftly slice across her palm and felt her skin crawl with revulsion as she sensed the blood magic churning in the air, thickening it with the scent of iron and copper. Something seemed to twist deep inside Ellana's skull and she winced. Lerand and Samhel did the same, inhaling sharply and grimacing as if with pain.

The blood in Zevanni's hand bubbled and gleamed red as the Elvhen woman murmured to it under her breath. The blood evaporated into a fine mist, rising as if conveyed by an updraft of wind, and wafted in a stream outward. It parted in three ways, two darting toward Lerand and Samhel while the third streaked straight for Ellana.

No, Ellana thought and popped upright suddenly, her left hand outstretched as the Anchor crackled to life. With the other hand she thrust up another barrier, extending it over Lerand and Samhel as well. The red mist sizzled against the bluish bubble of her barrier as well as the two Lavellan warriors and Ellana had a moment to feel a spurt of triumph at that minor success before Zevanni flung green spirit energy at her with one fist—a dispel counter.

"Stop this," Ellana shouted, tumbling sideways to try and dodge Zevanni's spell. She heard and sensed her barrier crackling as it began to fail and, desperate, thrust her left hand out again. Mark of the Rift, she willed it, but though the Anchor flashed and crackled, nothing came. No, no, no…

"Fool," Zevanni said with a snort. The red mist had reformed and at Zevanni's wave of a hand it raced for Ellana again.

Thrusting her hand up again, Ellana changed tactics and summoned Aegis. The green bubble formed over her at once, blocking the red mist, but she saw Lerand and Samhel's barriers had decayed, leaving them vulnerable again. But even as she reached inward to try and find the mana to shield both warriors, the men made their move. Samhel shot upright as Lerand tossed a barrier over them both, protecting them from the blood magic spell as Samhel tussled with the nearest weapon-wielding Dalish guard.

"There's no time for this," Zevanni snarled. "Kill them. Fen'Harel won't care about them."

"No!" Ellana shrieked and, thinking fast, pivoted to attack the arcane warriors holding Abelas, Mathrel, and Shila inside static cages. Unleashing as much mana as she could in the wild lightning spell, Ellana flung the arcs of purple-white light at the arcane warriors and watched as it lit them up, crackling and running in chains. The warriors cried out, jerking spastically. Several of them faltered in their spells, the flow of storm energy cut off and with a sudden whump-bang sound Abelas broke free, Fade-stepping through two of the nearest arcane warriors.

Dizzy after her spell, Ellana clenched her left hand in a fist, sucking in several deep breaths and trying not to collapse. Aegis kept her protected from the blood magic in the air as well as any hostile projectiles or traditional magic, so she had a moment to catch her breath. Her skin was slick with sweat, her head spinning. Was this mana burnout? It blighting hurt.

Zevanni and Abelas were fighting, lobbing ice and fire at each other as the arcane warriors, many of whom were still twitching from her chain lightning, struggled to come to her aid without losing control of Mathrel and Shila as well—but to no avail. Mathrel burst out of his static cage next, his white spectral blade flashing. Another arcane warrior countered him, the blades buzzing as they clashed.

Grabbing her bow, Ellana nocked an arrow and fired at one of the arcane warriors maintaining the static cage around Shila. As she released the arrow it sparked with lightning, channeled through her and specially-made bow. The arrow hit its mark, finding the arcane warrior's armor gap at the neck. He let out a wet grunt and stumbled, releasing his half of the static cage and Shila fell from it, but unlike Mathrel and Abelas, she didn't come out fighting. Slumped on the ground, she shook uncontrollably as Ellana had earlier.

Nocking another arrow, Ellana aimed now for the Dalish scouts still struggling with Lerand and Samhel. "Stop this madness!" she shouted as she loosed the arrow again with a crackle of lightning, striking one of the scouts in the back of his knee. He cried out, stumbling, and Samhel, now armed with a sword he'd apparently stolen from one of them, ran the scout through the middle with a cry.

As Ellana nocked her next arrow, planning to take out another of the Dalish scouts to even the odds, she saw Samhel's barrier fail and the red mist swirl over him in a sudden frenzy when he didn't put up another barrier immediately. Samhel froze at its touch, staring dumbly forward. The elven woman he'd been fighting, however, thrust her spear through his chest.

Horror sent Ellana's heart into her throat. "Sam!" she yelled. "No!" Gritting her teeth as she saw Samhel collapse, blood streaming down his body, Ellana noticed Lerand's barrier fail as well and knew he was too busy fighting for his life to replace it. Lowering her bow, Ellana flicked her hand, casting a barrier over him quickly. Hot tears spilled unheeded down her cheeks as she took aim again and this time she went for kill shots.

When Aegis failed around her a few shots later, Ellana scrambled to put up another barrier, and saw Mathrel had taken out two of the arcane warriors. As he made eye contact with her across the short distance of their battlefield, Mathrel switched tactics and Fade-stepped to her with a slick popping sound. With a wordless shout he unleashed a greenish spell—dispel—and the red mist sizzling at the edge of Ellana's barrier evaporated, vanishing. A few meters beyond, where Lerand still fought for his life, the red mist disappeared there as well.

"I have to get you out of here," Mathrel yelled, reaching for her. Behind him Ellana could see two arcane warriors streaking for them in blue blurs as they Fade-stepped to stop him.

Without thinking, Ellana shoved Mathrel aside slightly and reached inside herself, finding the lightning again. With a rapid flash it crackled, flying from her in a wild, arcing chain, and struck both arcane warriors as they exited the Fade-step, momentarily paralyzing them. Mathrel turned on his heel, spectral blade buzzing and blindingly bright, and sliced at them both. The smell of burning flesh and hot metal assaulted Ellana's nose and left her shaking with nausea as well as the mana burnout.

Abelas and Zevanni were still fighting, one with fire and the other with ice. Shila was on the ground with an arcane warrior standing over her, his spectral blade sizzling with her blood. Ellana was dizzy at the sight, wondering when and how it'd happened. She drew an arrow and fired for the arcane warrior, catching him in the eye with a purple spark of lighting to go with it. "You bastards," she roared with rage and despair in the same quavering breath.

Then she felt Mathrel's arms around her shoulders and felt the cool swell of magic enveloping her. "No," she shouted and struggled, recognizing that he was about the Fade-leap or do something else to whisk her away from here. "No! They'll kill Lerand and Abelas—We can't leave, Math—"

Then she gasped as the world when white and her stomach seemed to press up into her stomach, her skin tingling with both pain and pleasure. Her ears popped and blackness returned. The world spun and she stumbled, grabbing onto Mathrel for stability. Beating on his chest in frustration and rage, Ellana shouted, "Take us back! She'll kill them! She's killing the Divine! We have to go back!"

"You're too valuable to risk," Mathrel told her gruffly, still holding her in his tight grasp as he turned, searching the hills around them. Through her tear-blurred eyes, Ellana saw the orange firelight of their camp and let out a strangled cry as new emotions assailed her. Sylvun. She had to make sure he was okay…

"Hold on," Mathrel told her, though he seemed to leave her no option to do otherwise as his armored hands clasped around her so tightly that she couldn't breathe as the cold swept over her again. They lurched forward in blinding blue-white light, and then with another pop Ellana found herself gasping and blinking through her tears at the familiar, alarmed faces of her clan.

"Lana?" Rinaya asked, her mouth hanging open and her blue eyes wide as saucers. Deya clung to her chest, staring with curious, innocent eyes.

Ellana spotted her mother beside the fire, wearing the halla sling, but no sign of Sylvun—until she saw the tall, grave figure of Solas nearby, the baby boy cuddled in his arms. His brow furrowed and his lips parted with alarm as he quickly passed Sylvun back to Ellana's mother and rushed to his feet. "Vhenan? Mathrel?"

"We have to stop her," Ellana blustered. "She'll kill the rest of them—and Cassandra…" She stabbed a finger back toward the north and both human camps. "We have to stop her!"

Solas frowned, his eyes flicking toward the north. "I don't understand…"

Mathrel twisted around to look north and cursed under his breath. "She's warded it. That damn clever bitch…"

Uncomprehending, Ellana whirled to face the north and her mouth fell open as she saw the two human camps on the distant hills appeared quiet and undisturbed. She's warded them… Zevanni had planned this out well, apparently, taking the time to place illusionary wards on the hills to hide the carnage. Ellana's head spun at the strangeness of it. Such tactics were completely foreign to her and relied on the Fade to function. Elvhen warfare, she thought and felt sick, swallowing bile.

"What is this?" Briala's voice rang out from deeper in camp. Ellana saw the Orlesian rogue had been bound hand and foot. She stared out at them, her expression stricken, but otherwise she appeared healthy now, completely cured. "What's happening?"

Ignoring Briala, Ellana refocused on Solas. "Zevanni has betrayed us. She's gone to kill the empress and the Divine. Her scouts killed Samhel and Shila..." She broke off, choking on the sudden surge of grief that closed her throat.

"Fenedhis," Solas snarled. His hot hands were on her cheeks then, tilting her head up to meet his stare. "Stay here, vhenan. I will end this."

Panic fluttered in her chest and she started to protest. "No, I can't—I could help. I have to save—"

"No," Solas shook his head vehemently, pressing close to her. "Stay here. Stay safe." He paused a moment, fear etched into his features. "You're shaking. Are you hurt?"

"She burned herself out," Mathrel said blankly, and then, softer, added: "She saved us."

"No," Ellana protested, shaking her head hysterically. "I let Shila and Samhel die and—"

"You've done all you can," Solas interrupted her. "Let me fight for you." He kissed her quickly. His blue eyes drilled into her, the silent question hovering between them. Could she trust him enough to fight without her? What if he had somehow condoned Zevanni's attack on the human camps? Sacrificed Samhel and Shila and Abelas and Lerand as acceptable losses?

Clenching her jaw, Ellana quashed that fearful thought. No, Solas had nothing to do with this. He would save everyone he could—and Mathrel was right. Ellana could feel her body trembling, her core aching painfully from the sudden massive expenditures of mana. Her body felt heavy, her muscles sluggish.

Gripping Solas' biceps, she squeezed tightly as she stared up into his blue eyes. "Save them, emma lath. Please…"

Solas nodded and maneuvered her around, directing her to the clan. "Mahanon, please care for her. Mana burnout," he said quickly. Ellana lurched toward her brother as he emerged from the rest of the quiet, stunned clan. She clung onto him, breathing raggedly and chilled by the sweat dousing her body as she watched Solas call Lyris and Deshanna to join he and Mathrel. And then, with a last glance at her, Solas disappeared in a black-purple flash of smoke, teleporting. Mathrel, Lyris, and Deshanna followed him by Fade-leaping or Fade-stepping.

Next Chapter

"I am doing what must be done," Zevanni countered, shaking as she stared at Solas, teeth bared and gritted past her plump lips. "You know this is how it must be," she insisted. "I didn't mean for it to get so fucked, but you can still salvage this." Pointing toward Abelas and Celene, she said, "Let the bitch die of her wounds and tell Lavellan there was nothing you could do. Let me flee and I will serve you in secret."