Athariel leaned against the entrance of the infirmary, her gaze fixed on the unconscious Warden. Vethari was fighting for her life. It was horrific to see her clawing at the sheets beneath her, soaked in sweat. It stirred memories of watching the Wardens at Adamant give themselves over to demons.

"Is there anything you can do?" Zevran was seated at Vethari's side; his worry betrayed his usual facade. Athariel didn't respond immediately. She was stuck looking over Vethari's state of mind. The magic in the air didn't feel right. It was rancid. It reminded her of cultured halla milk left to sour in the sun. It reminded her of the forsaken journey into the Deep Roads.

Zevran pulled his eyes away from Vethari and looked directly at Athariel, waiting for her response.

"Oh, sorry. I'm not sure if I can pull her from this without knowing exactly what is happening. How often does this happen?" She stepped into the room, nodding to the attendants who were dismissed. Too easily had she fallen back into this role again.

"Over the years, not much." Zevran brushed his hand over Vethari's face, and the Inquisitor could see he was trying his best not to completely shut down. Vethari just twitched in response. Athariel lifted her hand and hovered it over the Warden's face; she ignored Zevran's querying look.

Voices penetrated her mind, tearing into it. The elvish was far beyond her knowledge but she could make out enough to understand what direction she should be looking at. It always came down to her false gods. As soon as they appeared the voices already faded away and she was left with silence once more and Zevran's eyes on her, wide like saucers.

"I'll be happy to explain more later, but the short explanation is that I have the ability to essentially communicate with the spirits of Mythal's followers. They offer answers to magic we no longer understand."

Zevran shifted in his seat. "What did they say?"

"It was hard to make out, I don't always understand everything. Their version of elvish has been lost to our people. But I've got a lead to 'snap her out of it' so to speak," she said, reaching out and setting her hand on his shoulder. "Just talk to her. Her spirit is wandering the Fade right now; whatever the Joining ritual is, it clearly runs the risk of making them vessels to the Fade's influence."

"I did not know that."

"Neither did the Wardens." Athariel left the infirmary. She needed to gain entrance to the Fade and with the anchor no longer able to offer that kind of power, she'd have to find a different means. She made her way into the little room she'd insisted on using as quarters and started to unpack her travelling bag. It was just the necessities, but hidden past her modest clothes was a book wrapped in basic linen with a leather band tied around it to keep it sealed. To anyone else it was unsuspecting, but attached to the leather band was the sculpted jawbone of a wolf with a tiny pouch containing a mixture of elfroot, spices, and a hint of tea leaves. The attachments were like her keepsakes and reminders of her journeys. Answers would be in her journal, and she was going to have to mentally prepare herself to go back further.

She placed wrapped journal on the nearby table, and as she removed its magic seal and undid the leather band. Athariel was reminded of the days spent in the library consuming every piece of literature she could find and getting into endless theoretical debates with Dorian and Solas. They'd spent so many hours arguing back and forth about Chantry rhetoric, or whether blood magic was just a tool or objectively evil. It was almost like a set-up for a joke, especially when Bull would make the rare appearance to offer his insights. Though, they all knew he was just there to strategically fluster Dorian. Those were the moments that stuck with her. It made her feel normal.

Gods, how she missed Skyhold yearning to be able to uncover answers more easily once more.

"She is completely out of it, the healers don't know what to do." Cassandra stepped into her room, her brows furrowed. Athariel sighed in response, "Yes, and as usual my connection to the spirits aren't nearly as useful as I need it to be. You know, I'm embarrassed to admit that I'm trying to uncover what Solas once said about the Wardens and the blight. It was one of those things he was frustratingly vague about. But I had written it down during one of our late nights doing research on Corypheus."

Cassandra didn't respond, instead, she stepped next to her looking over the journal she was skimming. Athariel flipped through the pages, struggling to keep the book open with her arm and Cassandra reached out to press the other side flat for her. "How are you, Attie?"

Athariel paused, surprised by the question, "I'm fine."

"Is that so?" Cassandra scoffed.

Athariel averted her gaze. "You must think I'm the world's biggest coward."

The Seeker placed her other hand on Athariel's shoulder. No words needed to be said, and they stayed like that. Just drinking in the brief moment of quiet before Athariel finally cracked, letting out a breath and laughing softly.

"What would I do without you? "

"Many things I suspect." Cassandra returned the laugh, before she cleared her throat. "I'm sure you've read the reports about the callback to Skyhold? About what Sutherland and his group found in the rotunda. The demon…"

"Regret." Athariel clenched her fist, "You have to admire his fucking audacity. I should have asked more questions and now I ask myself why did he document my exploits at all? Cassandra…who creates a demon from art? Especially a demon that great. Forget Pride and Rage, his actions invoked a demon of Regret and now parts of it prowls the Fade. I hate how I feel about him."

"We have yet to talk about what happened at the Winter Palace," Cassandra brought up the topic that has probably been on her mind for awhile. "You disbanded the Inquisition, ordered our people to Tevinter, and then you…you ran off with Sera. Why, Athariel?"

She held Cassandra's gaze, and then she closed her journal and resealed it.

"Cass…you'd hate me."

"Nonsense. Tell me, Athariel. I am your friend - I will understand and if I don't I'll empathize."

Athariel massaged her brow. "I knew who he was the second we entered the Crossroads, when the mark's magic threatened my life. I know I brushed it off, but it hurt, Cass. The spirits from the Well, they whispered to me the closer and closer we got to him that I would find relief with the Wolf. As I stepped through the eluvian I knew we weren't saving Solas from the Qunari but he was leaving breadcrumbs for us. Yet again only allowing us to believe what he wanted us to!"

The Seeker didn't speak, she only nodded to indicate she was listening, so Athariel continued.

"And for fuck's sake, I could not see the feared Dreadwolf, I saw Solas…my….Solas. Just the very concept that Fen'harel had walked amongst us, that he had led us through the Crossroads became irrelevant when it was just us once more. We went back and forth, as we always do and he started getting frustrated that I wasn't ready to just step away and forget him. Fehendis, the self-pitying idiot. I offered him our help to find a different way to take down the Veil. I have no reason to not believe his words about what my people were like."

Cassandra sighed, "We can't possibly understand the consequences of doing that, in fact we spent almost two years preventing it from happening, Attie."

"You don't think I know, Cass….That's in part what we argued about. He believes there is no other means of fixing his mistake. Maybe I agree with him. In the past decade elves have not taken so much as a step forward in the progress. We aren't even allowed the bare minimum of natural assimilation. Slavery in Tevinter, indentured servitude here in Ferelden and entertainment in Orlais. The most frustrating part is that Solas isn't wrong about my people, the Dalish are so scattered in our knowledge that we gatekeep those born outside of our respective clans. As second to my Keeper, I was privileged to be privy to our tales, but all those ruins we explored - Solas's recounting of his 'Fade' travels. It made me feel like a useless."

"If he was even telling the truth. He used sweetened words when speaking to all of us." Cassandra repeated, Athariel could sense the Seeker getting anxious about the direction of her thought process.

"Why would he lie? If his motivation was to get the Dalish Inquisitor on his side then he dramatically failed in that task."

Athariel had to regain her composure so she busied herself with unpacking what was still left in her pack.

"Whether he's right or not doesn't really matter because just like the rest of this gods forsaken world no one in Thedas seems to give much of a shit about the elves presently suffering. I read the accounts of what I could find on the Warden-Commander and you know what I found? That she apparently was only able to slay the Archdemon because she screwed the King of Ferelden. I mean that's ridiculous. Her reward for killing an usurper, Archdemon and stopping the Fifth Blight is a statue in an alienage that has been rebuilt on the corpses of her friends and family. Why are there even still alienages? Why are my people denied the right to recover OUR history in the Dales."

Cassandra shifted, "I don't know, Attie…. I admit I was ignorant. I accused you of a crime the minute I saw you, and in part, it was because you were an elf. There's no excuse for it now - "

"No there isn't, but when you did I didn't exactly expect any other response from a shemlen." Athariel sighed and rubbed her face, "Cass, look, it's not like Solas is any better. For all his talk about the 'people' our kind has never been in that narrative. Thank you for keeping his threat on the world under wraps. The consequences of people finding out an elf is behind the next end of the world will have the sort of consequences I shudder to dwell on." She felt her eyes burning, the humiliation setting in.

"Ir abelas, vhenan."

"What does that mean?"

"Roughly translated? I'm sorry, my heart..."

There was a tenseness in the air before Athariel straightened and brushed her hand over her head. She was determined to claim back her role now. "I need to get over the humiliation and stop licking my wounds. Vethari needs my help. We can discuss what to do about Solas later."

"You can talk about it to me, I'm here." Cassandra tried again, but Athariel was already closing up. The feelings she had for Solas were complicated, no amount of explanation would make her human friend understand, no matter how much she loved Cassandra.

"I appreciate it, but I'm done talking, now's the time for action."