After speaking with Alistair, Adara kept her word to Oliver and went to the Chantry. The wounded were triaged upon arrival, and the most severe injuries had long since been resolved one way or another: the victim was either recovering or dead. Regardless, there were still plenty of people injured in the blast who hoped for magical healing, as well as people with injuries sustained in the aftermath: burns from dealing with fires, broken or crushed limbs from attempting to shift rubble, and the like. Brimming with a kind of energy she had never felt before, Adara threw herself into the task of healing everyone she could physically reach.

Magic had never felt so easy before.

Adara did not have to reach out for the Fade; it came to her. Where magic was once akin to hauling a pail of water uphill, now it was more like falling into a river. She seemed to straddle both planes of existence as her magic sang through bone and muscle, closing torn flesh and dissolving contagion. Whatever small part of Adara that remained separate from Tenacity disappeared, 'she' becoming 'we' as they worked. Adara was no longer entirely of this stagnant world, and it faded into the background. There was only magic and a purpose for it to serve.

They were more than a little irritated when the sound of someone calling their name broke through their reverie.

"Adara? Adara."

No, not their name. Just hers. Adara blinked, and the Chantry around her came back into focus. Nathaniel was standing above her with a worried frown on his face.

"Thank you, miss," said the young man whose deep burn was now only a patch of shiny pinkish skin across his back. He didn't know who she was, which was more enjoyable than Adara would have guessed.

Still a little dazed, Adara could only nod at him. As she let go of the magic she had pulled to her and her head cleared, anxiety began to squirm in her belly. It frightened her to realize that she had gotten lost in her magic so quickly and so easily.

"How are you?" Nathaniel asked once the young man had gone.

"I'm fine," Adara said, trying to hide the nerves that made her want to fidget by tidying up the little alcove: folding a blanket, setting aside soiled bandages, putting the stopper in an empty flask of a healing draught. "I told Oliver to rest. He needs it more than me."

"Does he?" Nathaniel asked. "We didn't know what happened to you that day."

"Carver was hurt, and I pushed myself too far healing him. That's all." It wasn't technically a lie.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're here. I need to speak with you," Adara said, beginning to stand up. Nathaniel offered her a hand, which she accepted. This time he released her hand as soon as she was on her feet, and Adara didn't think she would see any further cracks in his façade of professional detachment. "Walk with me?"

He nodded.

They left the crowded Chantry and walked silently for a time, Adara almost unconsciously setting a course for the decimated main thoroughfare. The weather was mild, and it could have been a lovely stroll if her thoughts weren't so consumed with worry.

Adara was reluctant to actually talk to Nathaniel, especially about what she planned to say, but eventually she summoned the courage. "I will be resigning from my post as Warden-Commander, and I am appointing you to be my successor." There. It was said, and there was no taking it back. Adara would not allow Alistair to risk his position in her defense, so she would remove the one variable she could control: herself.

Nathaniel halted in place. Whatever he had expected, this was clearly not it. He could only stare at her for a few moments, cool gray eyes remaining unreadable as they met her gaze. "You don't need to do that. The Faithful have expended themselves."

"You think this can't happen again?" Adara said more than a little bitterly. "I'm not any less of a mage or an elf. There will always be someone angling for my defeat, and I won't allow anyone else to suffer for it."

"Adara, this is letting them win."

If he hoped to bait her with that sentiment, it did not work. "Let them think they've won, then, if any of them are still alive to celebrate. I don't care. Besides, the king is inclined to suppress the reason behind the attack. Few will know why I'm leaving." A gentle breeze picked up that blew her hair across her face, and she brushed it away. "I'm tired of this, Nathaniel," she said quietly. "I'm tired of trying to be more than simply myself."

Nathaniel placed his hands on her shoulders. He started speaking several times, each time changing his mind with a small shake of his head. Finally, he was able to give voice to at least one of his concerns: "Do you truly think the people will accept a Howe again? There are some who will see a plot in this to circumvent the loss of our titles. There could be... unrest."

"They'll accept you. You've been a hero in all of this, Nathaniel," she said. "The people of Amaranthine saw you defending them from the Mother's army. They see you now, leading them all in the wake of this." Adara gestured at the destroyed street, blackened by fire and tainted by death.

"Maker, Nathaniel, you're far more suited to this than I am. I've never known the first thing about ruling an arling. Or being in command of so many. You are right for this." She emphasized the last by reaching up to cover one of his hands with her own.

"I can't convince you not to do this," he said unhappily. It wasn't phrased as a question, because he already knew the answer. Nathaniel wasn't usually one for wasting words. Adara had always appreciated that about him.

Adara shook her head. "No. You can't." She gave him a gentle smile. "This will be a good thing, Nathaniel. You'll see."

"What will you do?" he asked.

"I'm not entirely sure yet," she admitted. "I think I need to leave Ferelden, at least for a while." Long enough for tensions to ease between the crown and the Chantry, and Maker only knew how long that might be. "It would be nice to see some of the places I've only read about." Adara may never find freedom from the blighted blood in her veins, but she wasn't trapped in a tower anymore and it was time to enjoy it.

Adara gave him a guilty look. "I know all of this is selfish of me, but—"

He cut her off: "You deserve to be selfish for once," Nathaniel murmured. He surprised her by reaching out to brush a piece of hair out of her face. "You know you will always have a place here."

Adara nodded. She wondered if she ought to bring up the nights they had spent together, if she ought to apologize for not sharing the feelings he endeavored to hide from her. After studying his face for a moment, she decided against it. They shared an understanding that was better without words.

The breeze picked up, carrying away all the words that didn't need to be said.