AN:

Happy 2025! I wish all of you a great year ahead.

Well, please enjoy!

Chapter 25

Between Two Worlds

"Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail." – Ralph Waldo Emerson

There were no traces of passage near Haven, save for those I left behind. Whatever had happened here was at least a couple of days old.

At the village's eastern edge, three Red Templars loitered—then fled the moment they saw me. I followed them, cornering them as they neared the river.

"What happened here?"

"We will not speak to an abomination! Move aside or die!" The Red Templar lunged before finishing his threat, shield thrusting forward like a battering ram.
I shifted back, then sidestepped as two others closed in, their movements coordinated and precise. Magic swelled in my hands—I threw up a shimmering shield just in time to block a mace aimed at my ribs.
Three glyphs bloomed in the snow around me, their edges sparking with energy. "Yield," I warned, voice cold, "or suffer the consequences."

"To an abomination, never!" The lead Templar charged again, but I Fade-stepped across the battlefield, reappearing behind them. Sparks leapt from my fingers as I unleashed chain lightning, the crackling bolts dancing across their armor. The air filled with the sharp tang of ozone and scorched metal. As they staggered, I grabbed the shield of the nearest templar and rammed him towards the glyphs. I moved swiftly and repeated the action on the other two, effectively paralyzing all three templars.

I killed two of the paralysed red templars, and the last templar twitched as the paralysis wore off, his breath heaving in short, panicked bursts. I stood over him, my sword gleaming in the dim light. Blood dripped steadily from the blade's edge, staining the snow red. His eyes darted to his dead comrades—one sprawled face-down in the snow, the other still smouldering where lightning had seared through his armor.

"Tell me what happened," I said, voice cold, steady. "And I'll make your death quick. Refuse, and I'll make you tell me the hard way."

His body trembled as he tried to push himself upright, his hands slipping in the sticky red slush pooling beneath him. "Th-the Elder One," he stammered, his voice cracking in fear. He was young. "He came looking for you! He wanted to take back what you stole from him! We-we attacked under the cover of night, but—"

"But what?" I snapped, stepping closer. My shadow fell over him, and he flinched.

"We were discovered!" he shouted. "The ones who escaped the burning—they buried the village under an avalanche to cover their tracks!"

I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword, watching his terror bloom as I raised the blade.

"Wait—please!" His voice cracked again, the barest sliver of hope creeping in as he threw himself back, his body sinking into the snow. "I told you! I told you everything! You said you'd make it quick!"

I paused, the tip of the blade hovering just above his throat. His chest rose and fell in ragged gasps. For a moment, I felt the weight of it—the horror in his wide eyes, the helplessness of a man who knew he was about to die. I'd seen that look before. Too many times.

"I always keep my promises," I said.

I plunged the sword through his neck and cut his head off, delivering on my promise of a quick death as the light faded from his eyes. I flicked the blade to remove his blood and watched the snow turn an ugly splotchy red that spread rapidly to join the large pool of blood.

There were survivors. I had to find them.

I closed my eyes, steadying my breath as I reached out for Thranduil's rune. Relief surged for only a moment—before unease crawled up my spine.

He was close. Too close.

My pulse quickened, drowning out the world with the roar of my heartbeat. If there was one thing I had learned growing up with Despair, Fear and Terror, I had to compartmentalize to think and act when needed. I could not breakdown now.

I dredged through the snow, my terror suffocating as I headed in his direction. The rune remained unchanged, unmoving. I could not bear to fade-step. What if I missed something?

As I trudged forward, another thought struck me. Who else had been at Haven with a rune? Cassandra. She had been heading to Haven when I left her in Redcliffe. She should have arrived in time. I searched for her rune as I drew closer to Thranduil's position, my breath catching when I found it.

Cassandra was near Thranduil.

The dread gnawed deeper. My mind raced. Who else had a Halani rune? Ellana was out. Kaari was still in Therinfal Redoubt. No one else who had the rune could have been here.

My hands shook as I approached the western hill. The burnt siege weapon loomed, its twisted frame casting jagged shadows over the snow. The battlefield was a grim tapestry—scorched and stained, bodies half-buried in the drifts, their limbs jutting out at unnatural angles. The closer I got, the more the unease turned to cold, clawing fear.

Thranduil. Where was Thranduil?

The rune pulsed faintly, unwavering, yet the ground where it led me was littered with the remnants of battle: splintered wood, shattered weapons, and frozen corpses. I circled the area, searching desperately, but found nothing. According to Cassandra's rune, she was here too.

I started digging through the snow, unable to control the shaking of my body.

"Thranduil, please." I whispered brokenly, " Please don't be dead. Please don't do this to me."

Nothing. No body.

Relief flooded me, overwhelming and dizzying. I sat back, tears burning hot trails down my frozen cheeks.

He's not here.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, forcing the panic back down. I couldn't stop now—not yet. Cassandra's rune was close too. Forcing myself to stand, I turned to the spot where her rune pulsed faintly in my mind. I dug again, my hands shaking as I clawed at the snow.

Nothing. She wasn't there either.

My body shook, unable to make sense of what was happening. If both Thranduil and Cassandra had been disintegrated in battle, the Halani rune should have stopped working entirely. If they'd lost the limbs that had the rune, the spell would have gradually lost potency until the blood drained from the severed limbs.

I scanned the myriad of bodies lying on the hill, some mutilated, others blown to pieces. I couldn't recognize anyone from the little that I could see.

Despair rose at thought of Thranduil bleeding slowly to death and I rushed to the closest body, desperately searching for him. I searched each body on the hill; one was a new recruit to the Inquisition who had smiled too widely at me. Another had fought beside me in the Hinterlands. There were too many faces that were familiar, even more that were burned beyond recognition. Only the knowledge that the Halani rune would have been inert for burnt bodies kept me going.

I stacked the bodies I inspected, wondering grimly who would be able to identify them, if at all. The sun started to fall towards the horizon before I finished perusing all the bodies on the hill, playing a grotesque puzzle game as I tried to match body parts for some bodies, while a select few remained a lost cause.

Thranduil and Cassandra were not among the dead on this hill. Their Halai runes were still active and going strong and yet, its location remained unchanged, a few meters away from me, next to the siege weapon.

I drew close to the catapult, collapsing on the snow pit I had dug earlier, befuddled at the mystery.

A soft squeak pulled me from my thoughts. A fennec. It approached cautiously, its tiny paws sinking into the snow as it neared the pit. I locked eyes with it for only a moment before it skittered away, tripping on a jagged piece of the siege weapon. The little creature tumbled over the edge of the hill.

The sharp scream of the fennec cut off abruptly. Then silence—followed by the faint sound of scurrying.

How did it survive a fall off such a steep cliff?

Desperate for a distraction, I crept to the edge of the cliff and looked down. I expected to see the creature's broken body lying below—but there was nothing. No fennec, no sign of movement, no blood. Just a small ledge jutting out from the cliff face.

What if-? I stopped, too afraid to hope. I grabbed my rope supplies from my bag and anchored my rope to the wall before descending to the ledge. While I could use magic to get on the ledge, if there were more bodies-I bit the inside of my cheeks to control the turmoil the thought brought forth-it would be easier to tie the bodies before Fade-stepping to the top and pulling them up.

I lowered myself carefully, the rope digging into my gloves. My boots hit the ledge, and I steadied myself. There was nothing—just smooth, unbroken rock. I landed on the ledge, frustrated at even being unable to solve the mystery of the fennec. Frustration clawed at me as I leaned against the cold stone, my mind racing.
Then I fell.
The rock gave way, rippling like water as I passed through. I landed hard on uneven ground, the faint shimmer of a barrier dissipating around me. An illusion, layered with intent. My pulse thundered as I stumbled to my feet.
Glow worms clung to the ceiling of the darkened tunnel, their pale light casting eerie shadows on the jagged walls. Hope flared in my chest, burning away the cold despair. I broke into a run.

A shield slammed into me, and I hit the ground hard, the air knocked from my lungs. My barrier flickered under the impact, catching the brunt of the blow.
I raised my left arm, the eerie green glow of the anchor flaring to life, illuminating the dark tunnel.
"The Herald!" a voice exclaimed, sharp with disbelief.

I turned, my light catching the snarling face of a woman—scarred, tense, her sword poised for another strike.

Recognition jolted through me. "Cassandra!"
Her expression shifted, the snarl melting into wide-eyed relief. "Herald," she murmured, lowering her blade. After a beat, she stepped forward and extended a hand, her movements hesitant, almost disbelieving. "You're alive."
Cassandra relaxed, her eyes shining in relief, sheathing her blade and sword before extending an arm in help, "It's good to see you, Herald."

I grabbed her arm and pulled myself up, giving her shoulders a tight squeeze, "I'm happy you're alive. I tracked you to your rune but couldn't find you. I didn't know what to think."

"All will be explained," she said, her voice steady, though her face betrayed the same relief I felt.

She tugged and I followed Cassandra deeper into the tunnel, emerging into a makeshift camp.

Injured soldiers lined the passageway, mages standing over them with a soft healing light. The air inside the cave felt thick, stale, like it had been recycled many times with magic to help people breath.

And there, being seen to by Solas himself, was Thranduil, wrapped in bandages from his neck, down his torso, to the upper left thigh. I rushed forward, pushing through the Inquisition agents who reached out to me, to reach his side.

"Thranduil, Thranduil!" There was no response, so I turned to Solas, "What's wrong with him?"

Solas rose slowly, wiping blood from his hands onto a rag that was more stain than cloth. His face was grim, the shadows beneath his eyes deeper than I remembered, his usual composure weathered by exhaustion. He looked at me, his voice devoid of its usual lilt, "Thranduil lives," he said. "But barely."

I fell to my knees beside him, staring down at Thranduil's battered, broken body. The sharp tang of burnt flesh clawed at my throat. His chest rose and fell, shallow and uneven, as if even the simple act of breathing was too much.

"What happened?" My voice cracked, my words barely more than a whisper.

Solas's expression tightened, and he turned back to the meager supplies spread out beside him. "Red Templars and the Venatori attacked under the cover of night, led by the Elder One himself. The protections around the village collapsed, and Haven was overrun. Thranduil led the effort to bury the enemy in Haven," he said flatly. "The siege was lost before it even began, but he bought us time. He lured the Red Templars into the village and triggered the avalanche. Many of us escaped thanks to him." His hands stilled, and he looked back at me, his eyes dark with something unspoken. "The Elder one had a dragon. He was caught in dragon fire as he fled. He dragged himself here."

I stared at Thranduil's face, pale and slick with sweat. He looked so fragile, so unlike the man I knew. "Will he survive?" I asked, dreading the answer.

Solas didn't respond immediately. He didn't have to. The silence spoke louder than words.

"He can't be moved," he finally said, his voice low and clinical. "His body won't survive the strain."

Something inside my heart cracked and a false calm settled over me.

Solas was not a healer. His words were not absolute.

I settled over Thranduil and performed my own examination. Thranduil had fourth degree burns throughout his body, with extensive deep tissue damage that had been healed partially by Solas.

I had never seen, let alone treated, someone with such extensive burns. In his current state, Thranduil could not be moved. I stood slowly and turned to Cassandra.

"And the others?" I asked. "How many escaped?"

Cassandra's expression hardened. "Half," she said flatly. "Of those, half are too injured to fight. We've patched them up as best we can, but…" She gestured to the makeshift infirmary that lined the walls of the cave, where soldiers lay on bloodied bedrolls, their faces pale and gaunt. The air was thick with the sour stench of sweat and infection. "The rest are starving. They've been rationing what little food we could scavenge, but it's not enough."

I looked around the cave, my gaze falling on faces I recognized—soldiers, mages, scouts—all of them hollow-eyed and sunken. They avoided my gaze, their shoulders hunched under the weight of their own despair. The quiet was broken only by the occasional cough or the murmured incantations of a mage trying to soothe someone's pain.

"Where are Leliana, Cullen and Josephine?" My voice was barely above a whisper, the words bitter in my mouth.

Cassandra tilted her head to the right, "They're further inside. They've been in discussions about what to do next but haven't made much progress."

"Are there any positives?" I asked, closing my eyes as I took another calming breath.

Cassandra nodded, "There is one; our enemies are scattered and unaware that we've survived."

I nodded, then slid down next to Thranduil, trying to get my bearings.

I stared blindly at the Mark.

What could I do? What needed to be addressed first? How would I do it?

My mind whirled, each thought a fleeting thread tangled in the chaos of what had happened—what was still happening. The Breach needed immense magical power to close. The surviving Templars and mages were enough, but I could not guarantee their safety after as we would be discovered. Thranduil needed extensive healing from an experienced healer, and once done, that healer would be out of commission for anyone else for the next couple of days. The Inquisition needed to escape Haven. We could use the tunnels. We needed rations first. Looking for rations risked discovery.

As my mind swam in circles, I wished vaguely that I had thought to bring extra supplies from my way back from Wycome.

My mind tingled as an idea blossomed and I stared hard at the Mark. It pulsed in time with the frantic beat of my heart, and with that rhythm came clarity.

I could open a rift and gather supplies, but why stop there? If I could reach out to enough spirits, I could heal Thranduil—and everyone else who was injured in the tunnels.

If successful, the Inquisition could escape through the tunnels without further delay.

The only drawback to this plan was that the Breach would remain open, but it was a problem that could wait until we were stronger.

With a solution in sight, motivation cut through the fog of doubt. I rose to my feet, the weight of fear replaced by a steely resolve.
"Solas, Cassandra," I said sharply, my voice steady. "Gather everyone who can still stand. We need to meet—now."
They hesitated for only a moment before nodding, their eyes reflecting a flicker of hope. As they moved away, I glanced back at Thranduil's motionless form. My hands clenched at my sides.
This wasn't over. Not yet.

I ventured deeper into the tunnels, the muffled voices of Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen rising from their heated argument carrying through the passage. Maxwell sat on the ground, his head buried in his hands, as though trying to block out the world around him.

"We can ask the neighbouring lord for reinforcements!" Josephine exclaimed, her gestures frantic, "We need help! We will not survive alone!"

"We do not know where their allegiances lie." Leliana retorted, her tone grim. "A word to the wrong person, and we will be dead."

"Our soldiers are injured. We can try to send a few of the better ones to acquire rations at least." Cullen sighed heavily into his hands, his eyes sunken in, his exhaustion apparent.

"Perhaps," Leliana interjected, her voice cool and calculating. "But first, look who's joined us! Herald, you found us!"

At her words, Josephine and Cullen turned toward me in unison, and Maxwell shot up from the ground, his expression a mixture of relief and worry.

"Erelani, have you seen Thranduil?" Maxwell asked, his voice laced with concern as he hurried toward me. I stepped back, creating a little distance between us.

"Yes," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "I've seen him. I also heard what happened. Thranduil, and many others, cannot be moved in their current condition, but we must leave Haven. We cannot stay here any longer."

Cullen's shoulders loosened in relief, "That is the crux of our problem. We don't know where to go. We don't even have enough supplies to get us there."

Leliana stepped forward, "Let's not forget the most important problem, the Breach. It remains open. The oath we took prevents us from making the sacrifices necessary to close it."

Four sets of eyes fell upon me, the weight of their expectations palpable.

I squared my shoulders. "I have an idea."

There was overwhelming opposition to opening a rift in the tunnels. Even more to seeking the aid of spirits to heal the injured. Maxwell, Cassandra and Cullen were the most difficult to convince, with Vivienne supporting their arguments.

"Rifts are inherently unstable," Vivienne said sharply, her tone cutting. "Summoning one even for supplies is reckless. If it collapses, or if a demon breaks through—" She gestured toward the injured soldiers lying nearby, her meaning clear.

"We need supplies! If you are worried about opening a rift in the tunnels, I'll open a rift elsewhere. As for spirit healing, Vivienne, even you cannot deny its efficacy. It is a very gentle and neutral form of magic, and I will only seek aid from the most knowledgeable spirits."

"The risk of possession is too high," Maxwell snapped, pacing in tight, agitated circles. "We don't have the manpower to deal with abominations if this goes wrong!" He turned to me, his face flushed, eyes blazing. "This is reckless!"
"Let me show you one healing," I countered, my voice calm but firm. "You can judge after that."

"No!" Maxwell's fist slammed into the cave wall, the sharp sound echoing in the narrow space.

"And what if the spirits turn hostile?" Cullen snapped. "We're not equipped for this. Erelani, we've all seen what possession can do. You're asking us to risk an abomination in the heart of our camp."
Cassandra stood with her arms crossed, her eyes sharp and calculating. "Maxwell and Cullen are right. We're outnumbered and outmatched. If the spirits turn hostile, we won't survive."
I matched her stance, my voice hardening. "And what happens if we do nothing? We don't have enough food to wait this out. We don't even have enough strength to run."
For a moment, no one spoke. Only the sound of distant coughing and whispered prayers filled the space. Cassandra was firm, her eyes cold but there was no cruelty in it—only the hard truth of a woman who had seen too many battles end in blood. She held her strength in her faith. If I was to succeed in convincing her at all, that was what I had to appeal to.

"Do you believe in me, Cassandra?" I asked quietly.

Cassandra retreated in her shock at the question, her arms falling to her sides, "Why would you -?"

"Please answer the question."

Cassandra ran an assessing glance before responding haltingly, "While I may have disagreed with some of the decisions you have had to make, I cannot deny that they have borne remarkable results. While your methods are unusual, your intentions have been above reproach. You have shown compassion where many have not. Trust when it was least expected." She sighed defeatedly, "And they have all borne fruit. Almost as if the Maker were guiding you."

"That is not the answer to my question, Cassandra. Do you believe in me? Do you believe that I will try my best to heal those injured around us and retrieve the necessary supplies? That if things go awry, I will address the problem adequately?"

Cassandra's expression faltered. She glanced away, jaw tightening, before finally meeting my gaze again. "Yes," she said, her voice quiet but steady. "Yes, I believe in you."

"If the world ran with intentions alone," Cullen cut in, "the Inquisition wouldn't have been formed."

"If intentions weren't enough, the Inquisition wouldn't have gotten as far as it has." I countered. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that they had valid reasons for their doubt. "Let me do what I can for the Inquisition. I cannot do this alone, we must all be on board for this plan to have any chance of success."

I called forward Solas, Vivienne, and Dorian. "These three have the most experience with rifts. If something goes wrong, they'll be our first line of defense. Any other mages who are willing to help, are also welcome."

When no further resistance resumed, I continued, "The first step of the plan is performing spirit healing to speed up recovery. Second is to open a rift and attain supplies from Wycome."

"Wycome?! Why Wycome? That's very far!" Maxwell objected.

"Ellana can help us, and we won't have to answer too many questions or make ourselves vulnerable. Any possible information leaks will still allow us time to make our escape from here."

"You think this will solve everything?" Maxwell snapped, his voice sharp with frustration. "Even if you succeed, what then? What happens when word gets out that the Inquisition relied on spirits to survive? Do you think the Chantry will stand by us? Do you think anyone will?" Maxwell shook his head in disbelief, before dropping his head to his hands, "Fine, then. Let this be on your head."

Leliana's eyes travelled between Maxwell and me before resting upon me. "I have seen your remarkable skill with magic, and the denizens of the Fade. Remember though, Herald, if things go wrong, I will take exact that price."

The silence that followed felt like a heavy weight pressing down on us, each of us caught in the tension of the decision at hand. Their eyes lingered on me, their doubts still present but tempered by the fragile thread of hope that had been sparked. My resolve only hardened under their scrutiny. We had no time to waste.

"I'll do what I can," I said quietly, breaking the silence. "But we'll need to move swiftly. Time is against us."

The arguments continued for a while longer, each person voicing their concerns. But the uncertainty in their voices was clear: the plan I proposed was the only option they had left. The stakes were too high, and there were no guarantees. But inaction, I knew, would only lead to more suffering.

Finally, the room fell into a reluctant quiet. The resistance faltered, and I seized the moment. "We begin with the healing. I'll make the rift once the wounded are tended to."

The others exchanged uncertain glances but offered no further objections. I breathed out a silent breath of relief. At least, for now, we were moving forward. But the real challenge was yet to come: convincing a spirit to risk itself for our cause.

The Fade stretched endlessly before me, the hazy dreaminess of it a welcome embrace after the harshness of it in the Waking. The ground pulsed with each glide, my spirit at ease in a way it hadn't been in days. Whispers floated through the air—half-formed words that would form shape if I cared to listen. In the distance, the Black City loomed, as persistent as ever in the horizon; for all its shifting lights and shadow, very little about the Fade was different.

"Desire, Valour, Knowledge, I seek your aid. Please come forth," I called, my voice steady. My aura pulsed outwards with each spirit I summoned, praying they would answer my call.

At first, there was silence. Then the air around me shimmered, rippling as if the very fabric of the Fade were responding to my words.

The first spirit to appear was Valour, glowing faintly gold. Young as Valour was, it was prone to posturing, appearing with a sword in one hand, waving it enthusiastically.

"Erelani, you called me for help!" The eagerness in Valour's voice was poorly disguised, "How can I help, falon?" It cleared its throat quickly, "Aid is not given freely, though. What do you seek?"

"It's good to see you, Valour." I smiled in welcome, "The others will join us shortly."

"Others?! But-"

Valour was cut off as a shifting mass of symbols and runes appeared, rearranging itself into shapes both beautiful and incomprehensible. Knowledge materialised with gentle snap and looked around with disdain. "It's been so long since you reached out to me, Erelani! Have you completely foregone your education?!"

I bowed deeply, "My sincere apologies for not reaching out to you before this, teacher. And I must apologise again for I call you not for further learning, but to ask for your help."

"Are you even old enough to forgo learning like this?" Knowledge huffed in annoyance. "Nothing in this world is for free, child."

A sly honeyed voice responded, "Now, now, Knowledge, for all your briliance, can't you see she's desperate? What do you want, my dear Erelani?"

"Desire." A conflicting feeling of safety and caution washed over me at Desire's arrival, "Where have you been? You've been gone-" I swallowed, fighting for composure, "It's been a while since I last saw you."

"It's good to know I was missed." With Desire standing so close to the other spirits, it was easy to see that its form was sharper and more defined than the others.

Desire had grown more powerful recently.

"Thank you for coming." I bowed again to all three of them, "Haven was attacked by a blighted mage and dragon a few days ago, and those who survived escaped to the tunnels. Many are injured and we are low on rations. Please, lend me your aid. Please help me perform spirit healing on the injured."

Valour glowed brightly in pride, ""You make me proud, Erelani. I'm more than willing to lend you my aid. But my price is simple: summon me more often for such noble deeds."

I encompassed Valour in my aura to share just how grateful I was of its unconditional aid. "Thank you, Valour. You truly live up to your name."

I turned to Knowledge, who hummed in thought, "Healing is not new to you, Erelani. What is it that you need from us that the Inquisition's mages cannot provide?"

I smiled in relief; had it been any other spirit, they would have left the request open-ended to allow for loopholes in the deal. This was why I mentored with Knowledge; it was more interested in the technical aspects of a deal, in sharing knowledge and finding efficient solutions rather than one-upmanship. "The injuries on many of the soldiers are severe. The Inquisition's mages are not adept enough to perform such in-depth healing, and those who can, cannot sustain such extended healing sessions alone. We cannot stay in those tunnels long enough for those mages to finish their healing. However, if I were to perform spirit healing by anchoring a triangular formation through the three of you-"

"You'll heal them all through a ritual." Knowledge finished, its interest piqued. "Very well, Erelani. You've got my attention. I've never participated in ritualistic healing before. This should be interesting!"

"What is your price, Knowledge?"

Knowledge tilted its head, "I want time with the Mark. I have been waiting for you to ask for my help in understanding it, but you never came back after our last conversation. I want to learn about it, and I'm willing to learn about it together with you." Knowledge scoffed, "Or more likely, teach you what I learn about it."

"Yes, teacher." I agreed. "Once I ensure that the Inquisition is safe, we can study the Mark together."

I ignored the twisting feeling in my gut as I turned to Desire, "Desire, will you help?"

Desire stepped closer, its red eyes locking with mine. "Why, Erelani, do you even have to ask?" It smiled, sharp and knowing. "But you already know what I will ask in return, don't you?"

A cold weight settled in my chest. I had known this moment would come, I had feared it.

"You wish to stay," I whispered. "In the Waking world."

Desire's smile widened. "You already thwarted me once, Erelani. Refuse me now, and I will make sure that all your injured soldiers, Thranduil in particular, don't survive the night." It leaned closer, its red eyes gleaming. "Imagine what we could accomplish together, you and I. All I ask is the chance to be real. To be free."

I hesitated. I knew Desire's power, its cunning, and its selfishness. I couldn't accept. My oath would not let me accept.

"No, Desire," I said, my heart clenched in fear despite the firmness in my voice. "The injured soldiers, Thranduil—no. I won't let that happen. There must be a compromise."

Desire's magenta hue slow transformed to dark purple, and its eyes glowed a vicious red.

"You already know what I want. Refuse me, and I'll lead your enemies to your loved ones." Desire threatened, stepping closer. "If helping me is against your oath, then I'll tip the scales in my favour until helping me is your only option. Let me stay in your world. Let me live. That is all I ask."

I shook my head, weary, "Your price is too high. The consequences of bringing you to the Waking are too dangerous."

"Do you hear yourself, Erelani?" Desire mocked. "Imagine if I said that to you every time you crossed into the Fade."

"Even if I bring you over, the Inquisition won't let it stand. You won't survive-" An idea slowly blossomed, "Not unless you make a second deal, an oath of your own."

Desire stared hard at me, "Are you asking me to bind myself?"

"No." I countered. "Swear an oath of your own —one that lets me protect you, without breaking my own."

"What are the terms of the oath?"

"Swear you won't harm others, unless they are threatening you. That you won't try to coerce those of the Waking into possession." I encompassed Desire in my aura. "If you do, I will protect you however I can. I will not stand in your way. You can go wherever you want, you can even stay with me." I stared hard at Desire, unsure whether it would agree to be bound by such an oath. "What do you say, Desire? Are these terms acceptable to you?"

Desire remained silent for a long moment before nodding once. "We have a deal, my dear Erelani. Let's hope you don't regret it."

I woke to the cavern's stale air, the other mages around me staring with unease as if waiting for a disaster.

It was time for me to follow through with my end of the deal now that Desire had made its oath.

Stepping out of the tunnels for a breath of fresh air, I fade-stepped to the frozen lake. I reached out to Desire through the Veil.

"Stay clear while I open a rift. It'll be the easiest way through for you."

Acceptance passed through our link, and I opened a rift. In front of me, Desire's shimmering form began to materialize, its presence radiating warmth and power. Its form shifted sluggishly before settling into a pink hued kossith.

I sighed deeply, there would be no mistaking Desire in this form. Desire had chosen the form most attributed to Desire demons but had chosen a form closer to a kossith.

I pulled out my bag for clothes to lend; none of what I had would fit it properly.

I looked up as Desire's form stabilised, "Didn't realise you identified as female."

Desire looked down at itself, "I shuffled through the forms, this felt the most comfortable."

"Welcome to the Waking," I said with a shrug. "I hope it's everything you imagined." I tossed the loose clothes I had on hand. "Get dressed. We may as well face the music."

"I'll face the music," Desire muttered. "You can deal with what the humans think."

I gave Desire a long look, "Remember your oath, Desire. And for once, let me do the talking. I won't let anything happen to you."

"Hmm." Desire was hardly paying attention, it's -her- head swivelling in all directions to take in the scenery.

"Do you want to try Fade-stepping?" I asked tentatively, unsure of how good Desire's control of magic would be in the Waking.

Desire turned to me and rolled her eyes. A smirk suddenly spread across her striking features. "I'll race you to the ledge, the winner does the talking."

A competitive fire had me grinning in return. "At the count of three."

Desire sped off at two.

I fade-stepped, summoning ice spikes to trip the cheating Desire demon. I cackled evilly as Desire tripped and Desire retaliated by summoning its own spikes, but I jumped over them, making sure to wave mischievously at Desire as I did so. I fade-stepped again, barely beating Desire to the ledge, laughing with the high of winning.

A sudden rush of whispers filled the air, cutting through the laughter that had lingered between Desire and me. The soldiers instinctively recoiled, eyes wide with uncertainty and fear.

Cassandra was the first to step forward, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword, her gaze fixed on Desire with a mixture of suspicion and barely contained hostility. "What have you done, Herald?"

I took a steadying breath, my smile fading, the weight of the moment settling over me. "Desire has sworn to help us with the healing." I turned to face her fully, trying to project calm despite the tension. "Knowledge and Valour will also be joining us for the ritual."

Cassandra's mouth turned down, her frown deepening further. "Maxwell and I will be ready with the Smite when it's needed."

Desire smiled, her newly golden eyes gleaming. "Be sure not to cast it before it's needed," it said mockingly. "Seeker."

Cassandra glared at Desire before retreating next to Maxwell who held a hard expression on his face.

The conversation about Desire would have to wait. The presence of Valour and Knowledge still lingered faintly in the back of my mind, their power simmering, ready to be called upon. With a deep breath, I focused on the task at hand, drawing the triangular formation in the air with Desire's silent guidance.

Desire took position at one corner, and I stood at the centre, waiting as the ethereal forms of Valour and Knowledge materialized in the remaining corners. The triangle was complete.

A neutral magic, soothing and yet powerful, flowed through the tunnels, surrounding the injured soldiers, and even seeping into the earth beneath us.

I let out a quiet breath, watching as the soldiers' wounds began to heal, the tension in the air slightly lifting.

I did it. I succeeded.

AN:

At first, I wrote a whopping 12000 words, but the chapter kept going. So I've broken it in an area where it makes sense. The next chapter is still ongoing and I have a particular end for it that I was planning for this chapter. In short, the next chapter will be a mammoth. Or broken in two if it needs to be.

Please share your feedback. I've lost any beta etc I used to have.