"Creators," Amaryllis choked. Her knuckles were swiftly turning as red as her face. "I'm so, so sorry Hyndel, that was horrible of me, I shouldn't have done it-"

"Oh Maker," he whined. Blood spilled from the hand closed around his nose and down his arm, staining his robes. "Maker help me, I think you've broken my nose!"

"I'm so sorry, Hyndel, let me- here, I can-"

Pulling his hand away gently, she placed her palm over the wound she had inflicted-Creators, what have I done? The guilt would haunt her for eons-and let her mana spill forth. His nose slid back into place with a horrible crack, causing him to cry out and her stomach to turn. But once it was done, and the bleeding had stopped, and Amaryllis had handed him a cloth from a nearby table to clean his hand as best as he could, she was surprised to find he didn't look angry. He looked... remorseful.

"I deserved that," he murmured, throwing the dirty cloth atop the table beside him. He did not meet her gaze. "My mother hadn't had the breathing trouble in months. I thought she had improved. When I left... I didn't think she would need my help any longer."

Amaryllis twisted her fingers into the fabric of her sleeve to conceal their trembling. "I'm sorry, Hyndel, I really am. I shouldn't have done that. It wasn't my place. It's only that I-I care. Your father was desperate. He truly thought your mother was going to die."

"She will. We all will. The Maker has come for His faithful. Our end is near. Only through Him may we endure. I pray that my parents will find their way when the time comes."

Her frustration quickly rose, a prickling heat that spread across her flushed cheeks. "The Breach is not a gift, Hyndel, it is a curse."

He shook his head. "It is a test."

"A... test."

"A test of faith!"

She wanted to feel for him, she truly did. A part of her wanted to sit him down to talk, to listen, to understand. Maybe even to comfort him. But her frustration far outweighed compassion in the moment.

"Then I am glad to not know your maker." Amaryllis, for all the kindness she usually held, could not hold back her contempt at the notion that the pain this had caused Ellana was nothing more than a test from a god they had never known. "For the pompous, egotistical prick he is. Go home, Hyndel. For if you're right, and our end is near, you would do well to spend your last moments with those who love you enough to forgive you for what you've done to hurt them."

She turned and stormed back out, lest she break his jaw next.

A bone-deep weariness was etched in the purpling shadows beneath Ellana's eyes. Despite Amaryllis' plea to rest after leaving Winterwatch, Ellana's resolve seemed only to harden, as if fueled by her exhaustion and the growing intensity of her frown. The Inquisition needed a calvary, and they'd received word of a horse master named Dennet to the northwest. Ellana would not rest until she had spoken to the man and secured the Inqsuition their horses.

So they cleared the road to Redcliffe farms, fighting crazed Templars and mages seemingly bent on doing nothing but erasing the other from existence. Their desperate pleas fell to deaf ears, dispelled by the uproar, lost within the clash of steel and hum of the fade as it was pulled through the Veil much like the souls they wrenched from the living. There was no trust, and there wouldn't be-not until the Inquisition proved itself worthy of said trust, as slow and painful of a process as it might be.

They spoke to the horse master, his wife, and the farmhand. They made camp along the creek. They sat beside the fire, late into the night, discussing their plans for however long it might take to set up these watchtowers (weeks at the very least), gather further weapons for the refugees, dispose of the wolves plaguing the farmland, and, perhaps, find a farmer's lost druffalo. When they had finally decided who would keep first watch-Varric and Cassandra, this time, though the latter didn't seem too keen on the idea if the irritated crease in her brow was anything to go by-Ellana wasted no time staggering into their shared tent, collapsing onto her bedroll in a dead sleep before she could burrow beneath the blankets.

Amaryllis hoped Ellana wouldn't be too angry with her when she realized she never woke her for second watch.

Ellana had been angry, of course. Amaryllis may have anticipated the sharp edge in her sister's voice, but knowing it would come did not soften its sting. She tried her best to be understanding-to bite back quips, to allow Ellana's frustration to settle and dissipate on its own instead of attempting to fix it-but it wasn't easy. The more Amaryllis did to help, the more Ellana's irritation seemed to grow, and the more her irritation grew, the quicker she was to either lash out or refuse to speak entirely. The fact that Amaryllis had allowed her sister to sleep in killed any sort of good mood the group might have had. Ellana made sure of it.

But it wasn't Ellana's fault, Amaryllis reminded herself. This was all too much. Ellana had suffered greatly. Falling from a rift, a forever oozing wound on her palm, being named the Herald-it was as though their lives had been erased, as though Ellana's purpose had been twisted into something it was never meant to be, twisted for a people she didn't even know, people that had no problem calling her anything but her name... Herald to her face, knife-ear to her back. It was no wonder Ellana was miserable.

So though Ellana woke furious and refused to speak to her sister, Amaryllis refused to let it bother her (too much), for the bags beneath Ellana's eyes were not as deep as they had been the night before. Her cheeks held color again. And her gaze-she looked more alive than she had in weeks.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, save for Varric's cursing over his dry, overly crumbly apple cake. She had collected her ration and attempted to sit beside her sister with an apologetic smile. But Ellana had stood, without so much as a glance in her direction, and quickly engaged Cassandra in discussing their plans for the day.

"Copper for your thoughts?" Varric asked, wiping the crumbs from his chest hair.

Amaryllis shrugged, then took a bite of her cake. It wasn't as bad as Varric had made it out to be-though she wished she had a cup of tea to wash it down.

"It's not so bad," she mumbled, taking a swig from her waterskin. It would have to do. "But my standards may be a tad too low."

"I was talking about your sister," He chuckled. "You know, the angry elf glaring daggers at the back of your head. I thought you two were close."

"We are," she sighed. Varric raised a brow. "Really! We are. It's just that I..." Amaryllis sighed again. She wouldn't be finishing her breakfast now, not with her stomach heavy with guilt. "I've made too many mistakes, it seems. I should have woken her this morning, but I knew she needed the sleep."

"She did," he agreed. "But so do you."

Shaking her head, she wrapped her cake, sliding it into her pack for later. "We could all use the sleep, I'm sure, but Ellana has far more weighing on her shoulders. She needs proper rest, more than the rest of us."

Varric nodded. "I'm not debating that. I only wonder if it might help her mood if you, I don't know, listen to her?"

"I do!"

"Do you? Because I hate to break it to you, kid, but your sister is mad for a reason, and she's made it pretty clear what that reason is. I can't say I blame her. She tells you what she wants, and you always seem to do the exact opposite." He lifted his hands in a placating manner. "Look, I'm not trying to tell you what to do, kid, but she's your sister, not your child. If you want her to respect your wishes, you gotta respect hers, too."

"I-" she swallowed thickly, the slight burn of shame spreading across her cheeks. She couldn't meet his gaze. "I was only trying to help."

"You had good intentions. Hopefully your sister will understand that."

Amaryllis stared down at her feet. He wasn't wrong. But she had promised Mihris-she had promised. If Ellana wouldn't take care of herself... Amaryllis would.

"How long do you think it might take for the watchtowers to be finished?"

"Once he receives our missive the Commander will not hesitate to send a group of soldiers for the task. I cannot make any promises, but I'm confident the area will be secure within the month."

"Elaina mentioned a path along the water leading to the wolves den. Do we know where it begins?"

"Yes, ser. I have it marked on the map. Once you cross the water it is to the northwest. Follow it to the end-it will lead you straight to them."

"Is there anything else to report?"

"A rift was sighted in the area. I've marked it on the map as well."

Ellana took the map from the soldier's outstretched hand with a nod. "Thank you..."

"Bassot, ser."

"Thank you, Bassot."

"Of course, ser."

Ellana turned too quickly for Amaryllis to act as though she hadn't been watching her exchange with the soldier. It didn't seem to matter, though-Ellana did nothing more than blink once in her direction, her gaze sliding over Amaryllis as though she were invisible. A strange, heavy weight settled in Amaryllis's throat. She swallowed thickly.

Amaryllis shoved the last of her supplies into her pack and stood, rubbing her sweaty palms along her robes.

"Ellana?"

"Hmm?" She hummed as she gently laid the map within her own bag, seeming to busy herself with organizing whatever lay within. It was odd, the way Ellana was acting. She had never been one for the cold shoulder-at least, not for long, and not quite like this. Their fights in the past had always consisted of petty barbs, a lot of yelling, and after, holding each other close while they cried out their apologies. But now, it was as though she were trying to pretend Amaryllis didn't exist.

All this over a full night's rest? Truly?

"Can we talk?"

"I'm not sure there's anything to talk about." Ellana did not try to meet her sister's gaze. "We're to leave in a few minutes. I trust you've already prepared?"

"Of course, but Ellana-"

"Good." She threw on her bag, ensuring its' clasp was safely fastened, and turned away. "Let's go then."

"Wila," Amaryllis begged. Reaching out, she took her sister's hand, and watched Ellana's jaw tighten with tension-but she did not pull away. "Please, please can we talk? I know I need to apologize. It's only that... you weren't taking care of yourself, Ellana, and I've been worried. You haven't been sleeping enough, your skin is so pale, and the mark-it pains you, constantly."

"I, more than anyone, know exactly how much pain it causes me." Ellana's gaze, as it finally fell upon her, was pure fire. Amaryllis' stomach twisted with anxiety. This isn't right.

"Yes, of course. It's-I just-" She took a deep breath before continuing. "I wanted to help. I only want what's best for you, Ellana."

With a sudden curl of her lips, her sister began to laugh: sharp and brittle, the shattering of glass. Amaryllis' stomach dropped.

"You only want what's best for me? I have only wanted what was best for you, sister. I have only wanted to help you. Yet time and time again, you've only proven that I am incapable of doing so, just as much as you're incapable of helping yourself. It has never mattered what I have wanted for you. How dare you think it matters what you want for me." Ellana threw her hand away, poking one long, angry finger into Amaryllis' chest, forcing her to take a step back. "It must seem so stupid to you, too frivolous a thing to be angry about, but you have no idea how it has felt to be ignored time and time again, only for you to continuously hurt yourself. Yet you worry for me? No, sister, I do not want to talk. What I do want is to do what I must to end this so we might go home. You could at least try to keep yourself alive while I do so."

When Ellana swiveled, turning away one last time, Amaryllis let her go, any reply she might have had dying before it could touch her lips.

The path to the den lay across the riverbank. To their right, above a waterfall, lay the rift Bassot had mentioned.

It had seemed normal-as normal as a glowing green rending of the sky could be-before Ellana's hand had burst forth as if wrenched forward by a force unseen, mark connecting to the rift. She fought against its pull, body shaking as she stumbled forward, boots sloshing through the water. With a horrible, ear-piercing screech, the mark's connection ceased.

And out of the rift came Terror and Despair.

"Is it just me or do these two look different?" Varric asked, his crossbow quickly finding its way into his hands. "That one has horns. I don't remember them having horns."

Solas cast a barrier, swathing Ellana in bright, pulsating light. Cassandra raised her shield and stepped before them.

Amaryllis couldn't look away from the blood steadily dripping from her sister's trembling fist.

"Let us tread carefully," Cassandra commanded, quickly glancing at their party over the tense line of her shoulder. "We do not know exactly how strong these demons may-"

The Seeker flew through the air behind them, landing face-down with a splash.

She did not move.

"Cassandra!"

"Shit!"

The Terror demon burst through the ground beneath him, knocking Solas onto his back. He rolled through the water, dodging each strike of the demon's claws. Ellana screamed. The barrier around her disappeared, its power flowing across her arms and up to the tip of her staff, releasing in a wave of flames that singed the tips of the demon's horns; Terror shrieked and vanished into the ground.

"We must retreat!" Solas cried out. His eyebrows twisted in fierce concentration as he readied another spell. "Varric-"

Varric ran to Cassandra and flipped her over. Hooking his fingers beneath the top of her cuirass, he began to pull her back, grunting with the effort; her armor scraped across rocks, her legs a dead weight dragged through the mud. Blood coursed from a wound across her forehead and down the side of her pale face. "First person to help me out here is my new best friend!"

Normally, Amaryllis would have been the first, but her fear had turned her boots to lead, and she found she couldn't move at all.

Solas spun, back on his feet, to face the rift. Despair hovered beneath it. It opened its arms, rearing its head back, and as the sunlight struck its face, Amaryllis realized she could see every single one of its long, sharp teeth.

Her barrier formed around Ellana just before the demon's attack struck. The icy stake froze the water where it fell.

"So none of you wanted to be my new best friend. Got it."

"What we must do is close it!" Ellana's marked hand began to spark, her blood now steadily streaming through her loosened fingers. "If they are this strong, imagine what harm will come to anyone who ventures this way!"

"That Despair demon took Cassandra out like it was nothing. Cassandra. The Seeker. What we need is reinforcements." Varric argued. He had pulled the wounded warrior as close to the shore as he could then took to his knee, pressing his fingers to her neck. He breathed a short sigh of relief.

Her heart in her throat, Amaryllis stumbled in the Seeker's direction, fighting past the impossible weight of her leaden boots. Cassandra needed help-what if her injuries were fatal? What if she had hit her head on a rock? What if she had inhaled water? Amaryllis could not treat her here, it would take far too much time and mana she would need for this fight. Normally, Amaryllis would agree with her sister-and she was right, these demons needed to be removed before any more harm could come to the farmlands-but she had seen what lay behind Despair's many teeth, in the soulless depths of its gaping maw. It was pure fear that compelled her now.

"Ellana," Amaryllis' voice shook as she called out to her sister. "We need to go back. I don't think-"

Her sister's head whipped toward her, lips pulled back over bared teeth. Amaryllis balked at her rage."I don't care what you think. I am the one who bears the mark-I am the reason this rift has been activated. I must close it, and you three will help me."

Beneath Solas, Terror began to rise again. Slamming the base of his staff into the river below, he sent the water rippling, and with each undulation came the crackle of a rapid frost. Terror stood, frozen in place, covered in a thin sheet of ice-though it would not hold it back for long.

"If you are going to do this, you must do it quickly!"

"Then cover me!"

With a grim look of determination, Ellana shot forward, the barrier surrounding her disappearing into thin air. Despair screamed again, its hands meeting at its chest as it built upon another attack-Terror, beside Solas, began to split.

It was all a blur from there.

Varric leased a bolt; Solas struck Terror as it finally broke through, setting it aflame. Ellana gracefully dodged one spear of ice, then shot a ball of fire toward Despair. The attack struck but did nothing to deter it.

Calling forth a storm-lightning coursed swiftly through her, static raising the hair along her neck, numbing as it raced toward the tips of her fingers-Amaryllis released it upon Despair.

Terror came down upon Solas once more, this time, striking true. He fell to his knees, his battered arm soaked in crimson.

"No!" Amaryllis cried out. Crystals formed beneath her feet: winter's frost hastening toward Solas, cementing the Terror demon's spindly legs together. It lashed out at the hedge mage, but could no longer reach him.

Amaryllis scrambled for her bag. A potion-he needed a potion. Her eyes darted to Cassandra, lying still along the bank. To Varric, nocking a bolt into his crossbow and taking aim, his mouth set in grim determination.

"Take this, you son of a bitch!"

To her sister, who stood below the rift, pallid skin bathed in violent virescence, raising her marked hand. The air went still as they connected, but only for a moment; there began a low, rising buzz beneath the skin that felt as though it would never reach its crescendo.

The Despair demon's arms opened ever wider, gathering its power between skeletal fingers, its many teeth bared as if to smile.

In it, Amaryllis could see the end of it all, and where it had all begun.

Death.

Her mother, her sister, Mihris-the mage who'd taken her staff that she had failed to save, the archer she had failed to save, the soldiers she had failed to save-

Ellana.

In it, she saw Terror rising from the great, roiling black. In it, she saw Despair raise its frozen blade, and take aim. In it, she saw Terror's spindly arms take the form of a spear, poised to strike.

In it, she saw her sister die.

Amaryllis ran before she could think to put one foot in front of the other. Her gilded barrier took form around Ellana: resplendent and gleaming as if spun by Mythal Herself.

Despair struck out, but its attack did not so much as graze the barrier. It could not, for Amaryllis would not allow it.

Pure agony unfurled within. She fell to her knees.

You cannot save her. It spoke, its voice the gnarled roots of a plant strangling another; of death; of destruction; of hopeless, ceaseless anguish. You cannot save anyone. You will only fail, as you always have, as you always will. Just as you failed Akasha. Just as you failed your mother. Just as you failed Mihris. Just as you failed all who have laid their trust in you.

And you will fail her, too.

Hands sliding along mossy rocks, Amaryllis crawled. Through the water, like flowers stretching along the vine, came the bloom of scarlet.

The ground beside Ellana bubbled, black. Despair's hood fell back, revealing all of its monstrosity, and every single one of its teeth twisted as though it delighted in what was to come.

It raised its spear.

There is no saving her now.

Amaryllis screamed, and the world shattered.