Chapter : There is only one way; my way.

"Teenagers. Everything is so apocalyptic."

― Kami Garcia, Beautiful Creatures

As time passed, my knowledge of the Fade grew. In a way, it wasn't all that different from the waking world. In many ways, it was.

Spirits and demons in the Fade sought to incite their namesake feelings in their victims. In the beginning, I had thought that they fed on those feelings, growing in power as they did so but that was not true. From the memories seen in the fade as well as seeing Desire in action, I realised that feeling a spirit's namesake bolstered them, giving them a foothold in the Waking world. So, if Fear gained territory, then the people living in that territory in the Waking world would act more fearful than others. But some people could build an immunity towards it, learning to act beyond the fear. The same worked in reverse; if a city's denizens were terrified, then the chances of a terror demon coming to nest in that area was that much more likely.

I didn't know how others worked through the mind games, but for me it was like exposure therapy. When I felt terror, I learned to work past it. That was the only way I could overcome the thrall that spirits or demons had over me. The worst part of it was, desensitization didn't exist when dealing with spirits and demons. A terror demon would incite the same amount of terror each time you faced it.

I was starting to grow frustrated. I was learning that like everything else in the world, walking the Fade was about practise, control and experience.

But despite my growing experience, I didn't have as much control over the raw Fade as I once did. As I grew older, it became harder to exert the control and belief necessary to affect the Fade. The truth was, the more I observed and learned, the more I realised that I didn't actually know anything. Ironically, opening my mind and being flexible made the Fade inflexible to me. Creating laws in my head about how the Fade worked, limited my power.

Sometimes in my darkest moments, I wondered if I had been right as a toddler. If I really was a god and belief was all I needed. That unshakeable belief and confidence had made me undefeatable in the Fade. But unlike then, the possibility of that being true brought forth unimaginable terror, because this world was real. It was as real as the world before, and the thought that there could be a god that could dictate it, and that it would be me, was too incredulous, too crushing, and too tragic. I was only too aware of my flaws, with Desire flaunting them in my face whenever it could.

To cast that delusion aside, I always recalled the way Desire used to laugh when it dealt with me as a child. There were days when it would literally be rolling around on the ground, laughing as it heard my thoughts. That was also the image that killed most of my fear of it, but never completely because only a fool would underestimate it.

Even just a year ago, Desire had reminded me that it wasn't a friend by inviting other demons into my domain. In all fairness, I had requested that Desire let other spirits through, so I could interact with them. I wanted to know what other spirits were like, and I felt that I was ready after handling a Desire demon for so long. But Desire had loosely interpreted the term spirit, intentionally bringing Rage, Fear and Terror along, smirking smugly as it did so.

Desire got a kick out of seeing me fall prey to Rage, Fear and Terror. It brought them in every night for a month, gaining a lot of entertainment as it watched me deal with the demons. Unfortunately, it would always banish them away before I could kill them, shaking its head with a mocking smile as it did so.

"You asked for it. Don't blame them for doing as you asked."

After all these years, I wanted to believe that Desire had just been training me, taking perverse joy in the process like some sadistic teachers did. I wanted to believe that it was just a spirit that acted out its desires in unorthodox ways. I wanted to believe that Desire returned a little of the sentiment that I held for it.

But sometimes, I thought those of the waking world had the right of it. It felt as if I was in an emotionally abusive relationship that I couldn't escape.

There were times when Desire would point out my flaws in the most cutting manner it could, calling me prideful and blind. Selfish and short-sighted. The worst part of it was, as I never let it out of the range of my aura, I knew it truly meant what it said, and that it could feel the impact that its words made.

When the words worked too well, it would quiet down and give a quiet sigh. Desire would then pat my shoulder until I allowed its touch to connect, and in an absurd parody of the first time this had happened, it would disappear.

Emotional abuse at its finest. Carrot and stick applied at just the right stress so that I didn't want to escape. Desire had me wrapped around its finger and knowing that changed nothing.

Some days, only the love of my clan and the worried glances of Zathrian and Thranduil prevented me from giving up.

It was hard. Really hard.

My pride helped. The Dalish motto to never submit also helped.

Zathrian tried to pre-empt my highs and lows but as I had just entered the volatile age of thirteen, he was at his wits end. He even had his First, Lanaya, take additional responsibilities, having her survey the daily operation of the clan. He turned most of his attention to Witherfang, the werewolves, Thranduil and me. No one begrudged him this change especially after hearing my nightly screams.

I want to say I did better than Thranduil, but that would be a massive lie. At seventeen, he was calm and grounded, never giving an inch to the spirits that approached him in the Fade. While he didn't carry an academic inclination, he showed an incredible aptitude for combat and strategy. He even tried to learn about the different natural forces I was 'rediscovering'. He was charismatic, drawing the entire clan in like a moth to a flame. He was gentle and considerate of everyone in the clan.

He was also very handsome.

I was crushing on him bad and everyone knew it. Thranduil included.

Zathrian tried to use my feelings to stop my 'stupid' experiments, trying to get Thranduil to influence my behaviour but Thranduil was reluctant to help in such a way. And I was at the age where anyone telling me not to do something only pushed me to do it.

The only thing Thranduil tried to earnestly help me with was the Fade. It made me happy that I was the only one who could share this with him, but the idea that I was receiving help from someone who thought the Fade was something to be avoided made me reluctant to listen to his advice.

Thranduil tried to share his dream with me once, hoping he would be able to banish Desire away from me.

It was horrible.

Desire was merciless and nearly possessed him. Only a quick WAKE UP saved Thranduil's life. I realized the difference in our capabilities that day.

Thranduil took away something else from the encounter. His glances became filled with pity and worry, and he made waking me his personal responsibility.

His whisper, "You're strong, you can do this. We are Dalish, we never submit. Never submit, Erelani," became my nightly anthem and I ignored the pitiful glances that accompanied them.

I swore never to share dreams with anyone after that, not with Desire attached to me. I couldn't even blame it, for Thranduil had threatened its territory and it had responded accordingly. Desire didn't apologize, and I didn't ask it to.

I did state that the Fade area surrounding the clan could only be inhabited by Desire and no one else. It was Desire's responsibility to ensure that it remained so. If it wanted any spirit or demon to interact with, it had to be in my domain and no one else's.

It wasn't a bargain. It was my way or the highway. Because despite knowing Desire was not really at fault, I was still angry.

Desire agreed. Then proceeded to torment me for days.

My morale suffered. My experiments suffered. Zathrian and Thranduil grew even more worried. It was a vicious cycle.

I forgot that there was a world beyond my clan. I forgot the Fifth Blight. I forgot the Hero of Ferelden.

The fighting between the clan and the werewolves grew intense. The werewolves had adopted a new strategy, infecting our brethren so that they would either die a horrible death or convert and kill everyone in the clan.

Zathrian was frightened, though he hid it well. I knew that Zathrian could easily end the curse by killing himself, but what then? The surviving humans would still try to get their revenge on the rest of the clan. Even if they left us alone, they would reintegrate with in the human cities and spread tales of the Dalish 'evil' and then we would be hunted.

The humans had started it. They murdered our brethren in cold blood, demonstrating a horrible brutality that predated their werewolf forms. It was foolish to imagine that this would suddenly change about them when the curse wore off. Problems and conflict didn't just suddenly disappear in real life.

Zathrian called out to me, pulling me out of my reverie. He gestured for me to accompany him in his aravel.

"Erelani, I need you to stop all your side projects. You need to try and find a cure to this infection."

I gazed at his harried expression, more than slightly confused. He knew the cure, didn't he? And why me? "But Healer Nari has been trying to find one for a while."

Zathrian seemed to be at the end of his tether, "I know, I know! But you, you're different," he sat down next to me, sighing, "you've done so much at such a young age, if anyone can do this, it's you. Looking at you, sometimes I think the Dalish could rebuild Arlathan, if we had more like you. If only your judgement was a bit better, da'len." He patted my head, giving me a rueful smile.

"Are you okay, Keeper?" I couldn't help but notice the slight shake to his hands. Zathrian tilted my head and stared intensely at me, his concern shining through.

"Da'len, I want you to promise me something." There was something very fragile about the Keeper then and it frightened me. I didn't want to see him like this, he had always been the calm and rational leader of the clan. "It's most selfish of me to ask you this. But promise me this. If the werewolves ever cross the outer boundary of the clan compound, I want you to take Thranduil and run. Tell him whatever you must to get him to agree. Do you understand?"

"What? NO!" There was no hesitation in my response. I would never abandon this clan. Never.

"Da'len, please da'len, listen to me." No! How could he even think-? "No! Never! Never! Never!" I shouted.

I felt tears falling on top of my head, and I looked up to see what I had never wanted to see. Zathrian was hugging me to him with one hand while the other covered his face, a stream of tears falling down his face.

No! I didn't want to see this! Seeing him cry so openly broke my heart and I couldn't help the tears that trailed down my face.

"Please, da'len, not you too. Please, da'len, please." I don't think he meant for me to hear, but I understood. He loved us. He didn't want us killed like his children had been.

But it was impossible for me to run away. How could I leave the home that had accepted me with such open arms? I was loved unconditionally. Only a fool would run away from that, no matter the reason. If I was going to die, then I would rather die with the clan, doing everything that I could to save them first.

I loved the clan. I loved Zathrian.

He wasn't going to die.

If there was any other cure to the curse, I was going to find it.

Or just kill all the fucking werewolves.

An insane drive took over me. Nothing I had done so far compared to the monumental task ahead of me. Never had such a task been so emotionally significant to me.

I would save my clan or die trying.

Desire tried to distract me, but I ignored it, focusing on the problem even in the Fade. For the first time in my life, I left Desire's domain, uncaring of the possible consequences.

I ventured into Witherfang's territory, aware that the forest spirit would be cautious of me. But the best way to solve this was by studying the enemy.

Witherfang was tending to the humans asleep around her in the Fade. The sight sickened me, seeing her treat those savages as though they were just people.

Witherfang glanced up and glared, getting combat ready as she approached me, "Run away, child, before I am forced to do something I don't want to."

Witherfang had nothing on Desire in terms of intimidation, but I wouldn't underestimate her, not at this juncture. I extended my aura and poked at her gently, in a mimicry of permission. She startled in surprise and frowned thoughtfully.

"I am Erelani, of Clan Arwen. If you would allow me to extend my aura to you, you will be able to sense my intentions." I stated diplomatically, willing away my feelings of hatred. I needed to focus on the goal and any emotion would be to my detriment at this moment.

Witherfang extended her aura over mine and waited patiently. There was a predatory look to her eyes that had me cautious of my next words.

"I am Erelani of Clan Arwen. I have been assigned by Zathrian to find a way to end this curse." The truth.

"He gave this task to a child? His commitment to this endeavour is apparent." Witherfang's voice was dry.

"I am not any child." I would do anything to get what I wanted. Become anything.

"A spoilt brat then. Because that makes this so much better."

The sensations and darkness I had pushed away as a child came rushing forward. Even if the world wasn't mine, the Fade was. It had always been mine. Fuck Fade laws. The only Fade laws that mattered were mine, and the only law that mattered was that the Fade was mine. If she wanted a demonstration, she was going to get one.

I created a curled fist and made a downward motion, destroying the dream state of the Fade. I made it reflect the waking world, showing me the ruins the werewolves were located in. I held it constant, usurping control from Witherfang.

Witherfang got into a battle stance, likely only refraining from attacking because she detected that I wasn't hostile.

"I am a brat. A talented one. Will you listen now?" I asked, keeping my voice and intentions bland.

"How is this anything but a trick?" Witherfang frowned, holding her combat stance, "Zathrian is fully aware of how to end this curse. He has refrained from doing so because he wants to exact his vengeance upon the humans."

I observed her clinically, filtering all my emotions out. I needed information and getting her side of the story was crucial. "Can you tell me your side of the story? Once I know I can possibly find an alternative cure, one that doesn't depend on Zathrian's mercy."

She launched cautiously into her tale, the Fade reflecting her story with surrounding wisps acting out the part as she continued.

A human tribe had attacked the Dalish clan and kidnapped Zathrian's son and daughter, brutally murdering his son while raping his daughter. The Dalish hunters had rescued his daughter, but upon finding out she was pregnant, she had committed suicide. Zathrian had summoned the Lady of the Forest and bound her to a wolf to obtain revenge. He had then sent Witherfang to execute the human tribe, but a few members had survived. They had developed lycanthropy, devolving into mindless beasts.

Centuries passed, and the perpetrators were long dead. Witherfang found the remnants of the werewolves and tried to restore the humanity she had stolen from them.

"Do you understand child? The perpetrators are long dead, this vengeance must end. The cycle of hate must end, or else your clan will die. The curse will still continue unless Zathrian stops it."

Fuck.

The spell and its workings were clear. This wasn't a disease, it was a curse with a simple solution. Witherfang was the source of the curse so she had to die, but Zathrian had used his blood to summon the spirit so he was linked to the curse.

There was only one acceptable solution…that served my needs.

"Thank you for sharing your story. I will try to find an acceptable solution." I withdrew my aura and gave a small bow before receding.

"I will forgive this trespass just this once since you only sought information. But a repeat of this behaviour will not be tolerated." Witherfang warned, her tone forbidding.

I nodded once to show I understood and retreated to my domain, forcing myself to wake up outside of the normal cycle.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Not only had I behaved like an absolute brat, I had withdrawn into the worst frame of mind possible to deal with a spirit. The last time I had dealt with a spirit in such a manner, it had turned into a demon.

The results hadn't been worth it. Plan A had to be discarded, because there was no other recourse. I had gone in knowing the story and Witherfang had only confirmed what I already knew. If the curse lifted, Zathrian would die. Which wasn't going to happen.

The werewolves had to die.

The only problem was my infected clansmen. I would not leave them to their fate. It was unacceptable, and I could not reconcile that Zathrian would let his clansmen suffer just so his vengeance could be eternal.

I got up from the bed, jumping a little as Thranduil jolted awake at my movement.

"Are you okay Erelani?" Thranduil asked, moving closer to me. My heart squeezed at seeing the concern in his grey eyes. Despite the different relationships each of us had with the clan, Thranduil and I shared a special bond that went beyond others. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to share it with the only person who ever understood me. Thranduil got exasperated, angry and irritated with me a lot but the concern and affection he held for me always shone through.

But how could I tell him something like this? How could I tell him that Zathrian had started the curse that plagued the clan? I had accepted that part of Zathrian long before we'd ever come into the Brecilian Forest, aware that people were flawed. In the end, everyone always served their own selfish purposes.

But Thranduil wouldn't understand. He was the good boy who thought everyone should act morally.

"Erelani?" Thranduil shook his head in exasperation and pressed my nose as though it were a button, "Snap out of it, Erelani. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm going to sleep."

A loud commotion at the front of the camp startled the both of us out of the aravel. A group of travellers had arrived and Mihiris was accompanying them into camp.

This was very bizarre because outsiders weren't allowed into the clan. Sarel saw us watching and pushed us back into the aravel.

"Go hide, this doesn't look good. They have a qunari with them. Pack, go pack, quick!" He ordered, before moving onto the other bystanders.

I saw Zathrian walk out of his tent, fully armed and cautiously making his way to the group.

Like hell I was going to hide. This situation was giving me a horrible sense of déjà vu. I creeped out of the aravel, dodging Thranduil's restraining hand. I followed the entourage of hunters shadowing the group of travellers.

There were three human women, two human men, one qunari male, one dwarven male and one elven male. The diverse group was jarring, an unwelcome reminder that there was more to the world than just my clan.

Zathrian led them to a secluded corner of the clan and bid them to rest. As much as I loved Zathrian, it shocked me to see such courtesy from him. This hospitable behaviour towards non-Dalish was against his very nature.

Zathrian turned back, gesturing for the hunters to keep watch. As he returned to his aravel, he locked eyes with me and gave me stern glare. He gestured to his aravel impatiently, silently ordering me to join him.

I acquiesced, feeling discouraged at being caught so easily.

"Why are you out here da'len?" He shook his head suddenly, muttering, "It's like asking the birds, why do you fly?"

"Who are they?" I demanded, impatient. "I thought we don't welcome outsiders. Who are they?"

"They are Wardens. They are here to ask for reinforcements to fight against the Blight."

"Huh?" My brain short-circuited. Fuck. I had forgotten. There was a third party to this equation I had completely forgotten to consider. It had been a few years since I had last gone through the veilfire memories. I had ignored it out of spite after failing to figure out the veilfire.

Zathrian sighed, "Don't worry about it. But you'll be sleeping here tonight. Take my bed, I have a lot of work left to do." He gestured to the roll laid out.

I jumped onto it, too used to this routine to question it. If I had him to myself tonight, this would be the best time to ask my questions.

"Keeper?"

"What is it, da'len? Go to sleep, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"About the curse…"

Zathrian stopped his shuffling. I turned to look at him and found him watching me.

"You already know. You really do make me proud, ashalan. I have met no one like you in all my years." My heart burned fiercely at the endearment.

"What are we going to do? I met Witherfang and she wants to stop the curse. But that means-" I sobbed, "that means- " I started crying uncontrollably, unable to say the horrible words.

Zathrian soothed me by gently patting my head, "It's enough for Witherfang to die. I can cure our clansmen using her heart."

So, he had already known. But… "If you already knew the cure, then why did you-?"

Zathrian cut me off, shaking his head regretfully, "I was being a foolish old man."

A horrible feeling of failure settled in my gut. Zathrian had really thought that I would succeed, that I would find another cure.

I failed. The one time that it mattered, I failed him.

I quieted, holding my breath so that Zathrian didn't know I was crying. He gave me a kiss on the top of my head and turned back to his work.

I gasped quietly, trying to control my tears.

What was the point to all this? Why was I so powerless? So useless? I was incapable of protecting the people I loved.

Not Zathrian. Please, not Zathrian.

I closed my eyes, and for the first time in a long while, reactivated my glyph.

After floating in the memories of another world, the next morning felt bizarre. Despite being a completely different person in this life, I couldn't help the strong disassociation that came over me.

I counted it as a blessing.

There were three possible choices. There was only one choice that was acceptable to me.

I joined my clan for the communal meal, noticing that the Keeper and the guests were absent. A glance around the compound revealed a pair of hunters standing guard in front of Sarel's aravel. I gathered my bowl and made my way to them, my course of action decided.

"I need to speak to the Keeper."

"Not now," Mihiris warned, "There is an important meeting going on."

"I was researching the disease. I think I can help with the information I have." I passed an entreating look to Mihiris. She was among the few of the clan who thought I was a walking time bomb. She liked me; she loved listening to my lectures on gravity and participating in my experiments, but she thought I was a good thing that wouldn't last. Like I was a terminally ill cancer patient. Or exploding patient, as it were. Still, pitiful glances from the pitiful sister worked on her.

"Fine. Just wait outside for a moment."

She went in then returned shaking her head. "Zathrian says no."

"I'm going in anyway." Mihiris put a restraining hand on me, but I fadestepped into the aravel.

"Erelani! Out!" Zathrian barked, "Please excuse me, she is a handful sometimes."

I passed a glance over the entourage, dismissing them for the moment. Zathrian grabbed my ear and I yelped, trying to remove his grip. He dragged me to the door and I crushed my heels down, trying to stop him.

I couldn't let him do this.

I aimed for his solar plexus, but Zathrian dodged, restraining me with his other hand. Shit.

"Just hear me out! Hear me out!"

"No, Erelani! You have disobeyed my orders! This behaviour of yours has gone on for far too long! Do as you are told!"

Fuck no.

I tried to fadestep again, but Zathrian stopped me, his magic creating a block. Shit, I wasn't going to win this.

"I did it ok! I found an answer! Will you just listen to me?!" I stopped struggling to show I meant business. Zathrian stopped dragging me, freezing in his tracks in shock.

"What?" He breathed, stunned, "You found another way?"

"Would someone please explain what's going on?" A voice spoke up behind us. I turned, unable to pinpoint which male had spoken. It broke Zathrian out of his reverie and he let me go, standing partially in front of me.

"It seems we won't be requiring your assistance after all Warden."

"Actually, we do." I cut in and I saw Zathrian clench his fists. He turned his body partially to me, his eyes passing me a silent warning.

"Keeper, let me sit in on the meeting, please. I can share what I've discovered."

Zathrian watched me cautiously, uncertain. I knew what he feared, "You have nothing to worry about Keeper."

"Your judgement has always been terrible da'len, and I fear it's rubbing off on me. Very well, you may join us."

"Let me guess," A feminine voice drawled out, "You assigned a bratty kid to research possible remedies to lycanthropy and she succeeded? I must say Warden; our journey gets more and more bizarre the longer it continues."

"What did you tell them?" I demanded from Zathrian and he frowned, placing a warning hand on top of my head.

"Quiet, dalen." Zathrian took a deep breath before continuing, "Erelani is very gifted with the…elven arts. If she has found some insight in to the situation, it will be helpful."

"Well, kid," the dwarf spoke, "Spill already. We have more important things to do then watch you throw tantrums."

"There is a way to circumvent the curse," I started after receiving a nod from Zathrian, "But I will need to be present when you harvest Witherfang's heart."

"No can do." "No." "Not happening." Multiple voices voiced out their disagreement.

Zathrian glared furiously at me, "That was your brilliant plan? No, you have no discipline, no restraint and you are nothing more than a child despite your achievements."

Yeah, so what?

Now to put in some fear. "There is a high likelihood that the curse will transfer once Witherfang has been killed. I have been devising a spell that can take advantage of that moment." Absolute bullshit.

A woman with black hair spoke up, "Is that so? Well I'm a powerful mage so maybe you can teach this ingenious spell to me. That way, we don't have to protect a little brat."

The older woman spoke up, cutting the other lady off, "Untested spells are not safe, child. It is better if we destroy the source of the spell."

I grit my teeth in irritation. While their words suited my agenda now, I could not anticipate the direction their thoughts would take once they found out the truth. I couldn't trust a stupid game about their reactions, and their actions would be easier to guide if I was present when they made their decision.

"I know where the hideout is. I know the spell to undo the curse. I have dealt with Witherfang before. Are you seriously going to refuse my help?" I ground out, forgetting diplomacy in my petulant anger.

The qunari spoke up, "You'll just be deadweight."

"Right," I drawled, "I'm Dalish. I don't expect protection from you lot."

"The Maker protect me from the follies of youth." The dark haired human man groaned, "Alistair, what do you think? Zevran?"

The blonde human shrugged, "It seems like a bad idea."

The elven male watched the Keeper and me. He tilted his head respectfully at the Keeper before speaking, "If the Keeper permits it, then having her along could prove useful."

They all turned to face him.

"No." Zathrian refused with a stony face.

"Keeper!" I protested, desperately searching for the words that would make him agree, "You assigned me the task of finding the cure for our clansmen!"

"Yes, I did," Zathrian intoned, "And I'm regretting that decision."

"I will protect my clan! You can't stop me!"

"Protecting the clan is my job, Erelani! Now leav-"

I cut him off by hugging him. He froze at the unexpected gesture, growing uncomfortable at the public display.

"Baba, please," I whispered, and he stopped pushing me off him, surprised. "Trust in me. Believe in me. If you believe in me, baba, I can do anything. I can do this too. Have I ever failed you?"

Zathrian looked gutted. He looked down at me, his eyes conflicted, "How can I send you into their territory? You are just a child, ashalan."

I extended my magic into the Fade, weakening the veil as the strands caught. I needed to make an impact and I could only do what always worked on Desire. I extended my mage aura into him and forced my conviction to him.

"Yes, I am. But I am also your Erelani. I will go, and I will save the clan. I will save you." I let the pressure of my presence extend across the room and I felt the others get up in defense.

"Place your faith in me, Baba. Please."

"Creators, help me," Zathrian covered his face, took a deep breath then responded, "Very well, da'len. You may go. But if you are going to do this, you will first undergo the rite to adulthood. You will receive your vallaslin today."

He turned to face the human Warden, "Please feel welcome to rest in our clan compound while we sort a few details out."

Zathrian walked out, gesturing me to follow him.

I took a deep breath, letting the strands fade from the Veil.

A whistle echoed through the room. The dark-haired woman spoke, "That was some expert manipulation there."

"It's called love." I growled out.

She laughed, "I was talking about the veil."