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As she did, Hawke immediately scavenged Corypheus's body. Varric should have known she would, but he was a little surprised—nothing would have induced him to go near that creepy old whatever-it-had-been. She rose with an amulet in her hand, and Blondie looked over her shoulder at it, frowning.

"No one's used that pattern since before the first Blight. It was unique to a small sect in Tevinter who worshipped the god Dumat." He shook his head in wonder. "Corypheus really was an ancient magister."

"Damn good thing we didn't bring the elf, then," Varric put in. He could only imagine Fenris's acerbic comments at being asked to free an ancient Tevinter magister, and his unholy glee at being asked to kill it. For that matter, maybe they should have brought him. It would have been a completely unique chance to see a smile on the broody bastard's face.

Blondie had taken the amulet and was studying it. Softly, he said, "I've always thought the Black City was just a story …"

"All the best stories have an element of truth," Varric observed. He didn't know how much truth there was in the Black City's story, even with one of the supposed magisters who had stormed it lying dead at his feet, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. Still, there must have been some kernel, or none of them would be here right now.

"Even if it's true, it doesn't justify punishing mages over a thousand years later!" Sunshine snapped, her eyes blazing.

"It does raise the question, though: What else might the Chantry know that we don't? I'll need to study this further." Blondie turned away with the amulet, muttering to himself, and Varric felt a prickle of uneasiness down his spine. He'd seen that fanatic look before, on his brother. Only this time, there was no lyrium idol to blame it on. Blondie would bear watching when they got home.

Before he could start making plans, Hawke's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Now where did he get off to?"

Following the line of her gaze, Varric could see that Larius was no longer with them. He must have gotten up and hobbled away at some point during the fight.

"Probably couldn't take being out in the fresh air after so much time cooped up in that tower. Too far from the darkspawn, not enough taint." Blondie's lip curled, but in disgust or dread or sympathy, it was hard to tell.

"Poor sod," Varric muttered.

"Well, good," Hawke said abruptly. When they all frowned at her, she shrugged. "What, were we supposed to bring him back to Kirkwall with us, find a cure for the Blight sickness while we were at it? One ancient problem dealt with at a time, thank you. Now Larius has taken care of himself, he's no longer our problem, and we can go home."

"Sister, will you take this with you?" Sunshine held up the key.

Hawke frowned at it. "I don't want it. I don't want anything to do with this place, any memory of it … but if we leave it here, someone else might use it for Maker knows what." She held out a hand for the thing. "I suppose I'm stuck with it now."

"Look at it this way: It's a symbol of how much Father loved Mother. And you."

"It's a symbol of how Father's love was used to pervert his magic into something he never wanted it to be," Hawke snapped. Then she relented and put an arm around her sister. "Still, though … because of this, I have you. And we had our family, and our whole lives together. I suppose that's something."

"It's everything." Sunshine shook her head. "It's amazing how the past haunts us. All this hardship because of something that happened so long ago. Did Father think it was worth it?"

"It gets harder every year to remember what Father was like," Mina admitted.

Sunshine smiled. "I thought he knew everything. You know, as much as he had to spend time training me, he was so proud of you and Carver. He'd still be proud, if he could see you today."

Hawke looked around her, smiling a bit herself. "The alternative being quiet lives as maids or stablehands."

"An idea not without charm." Sunshine laughed. "But you're right. Being normal would have required completely different parents—and I wouldn't want that. He sacrificed so we could have a life free to choose. It must have been a terrible burden. For him, and now for you." She reached for Hawke, enveloping her in a hug. "Thank you for taking care of everything, sister."

"I bust my tail, and for what?" Hawke twisted her face to keep the tears back. "We all deserved better. You deserve better."

"You know, Father had doubts, but he was always moving forward." Sunshine took her sister's face in her hands. "You have to keep moving forward, Mina. The best of him is still with you. The best of all of us. We will always be family."

Watching them, Varric could remember when he and Bartrand had been a family, when his big brother, so smart and so powerful, would come home and tell him bedtime stories of ancient thaigs far below the surface and the riches to be found there. He hadn't been wrong, after all.

"Varric. Varric!"

He looked up and saw Hawke scowling down at him. "What?"

"I said, can we go now, please?"

"Oh. Yeah. Definitely."

"Anders, you with us?"

Blondie muttered something, but his attention was still on the amulet. Hawke grabbed him by the sleeve and they gathered up their bags and started down the stone steps on the other side of the pavilion.

What a relief it was to feel sand beneath his feet. Varric didn't even bother to complain that it was going to ruin his boots—what were a pair of boots to the knowledge that the long slog through the tower was over and they were going home, back to Kirkwall and the Hanged Man and everything familiar?

Hawke walked ahead with Sunshine, the two of them leaning wearily on each other, and Varric hung back with Blondie, grabbing the mage by the arm and pulling him forward when necessary. And that was the way they arrived back at Kirkwall, the familiar stones of the walls looming up over them, the familiar clang of the gates closing behind them.

Stopping in the middle of the cobblestoned street, Hawke said, "Huh."

"What?"

"It's just another tower, isn't it? Darktown and Lowtown and Hightown."

"Who's the ancient magister keeping us in it, then?" Sunshine asked.

"If we knew that, maybe we could get out."

Varric didn't want to follow her metaphor. This was his home—he chose to live within these walls. And if that felt for a moment disturbingly like Larius scuttling back into the tower because it was the only place he was fit for, well, Varric didn't want to think about that.