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I could have lived on without experiencing the Hanged Man.

We didn't have to remain in the main hall at least. Varric had the largest room in the inn and the table he had there was spacious enough for all of us. The odor of ale and smoke however couldn't be avoided and the song the drunk people were trying to sing in the hall hurt my ears. It was loud and terribly out of tune. I was also a bit uneasy due to a skinny, bearded man that kept walking back and forth in the corridors while talking to himself. Nevertheless, I had no choice but to join Isabela in order to tell her the whole story of my disappearance.

She was very understanding, but by the point it was my turn to seek some answers, she was too drunk to make any sense. Her knowledge of the qunari was still a mystery to me and no matter how many questions I wrote on a new piece of paper, she refused to shed any light on her past. All I really knew about Isabela was that she was a pirate captain who had stolen one of the most treasured artifacts of the qunari race. Despite her carefree and slightly reckless attitude, I couldn't bring myself to dislike her. The fact that I wasn't the only one with such thoughts reinforced my opinion of her, even though Roghart had his own obvious reason for trusting Isabela.

What concerned me more was not that she held tight on her secrets, but the qunari who most likely were still looking for her. I had finally discovered my family and another mage who wasn't a Saarebas nor an enemy and I could easily lose them all if the tribe tracked Isabela to Kirkwall. I could never imagine myself in the same city as my Arvaarad ever again.

The musty air was causing my head ache and I made my last attempt to get the pirate captain give me a serious reply by writing You do realize we are not safe yet, right? I read the message while squinting my eyes and handed it to Isabela, leering at her.

She scratched her rose-colored cheeks and slowly sipped her beer, eying the paper like the words were too difficult to comprehend. Her lips curved and she leaned back, relaxing her right leg on top of the left one.

"Sweetie, you have nothing to worry about," she said. "I'll keep you safe and so does your handsome brother. And the dwarf. And your someone-pissed-in-my-tea brother. And your boyfriend. Especially him. He'll be more than happy to zap some horn heads for you, I'm sure."

My sigh expressed more frustration than I could have ever done with speech. Plans for the future in case of trouble clearly had to be done later, so I stood up and prepared to leave. I had explained myself to Isabela and could only hope that I would learn more about her in time.

"You're leaving?" Roghart blinked at me and I nodded back.

"Aw, the story was getting so good!" Varric said. "Surely you could share your point of view of the previous epic battle at the Chantry before you go!"

I gave Varric a long, blank look and tapped my mouth with my index in a very allusive manner.

The dwarf coughed awkwardly. "Right, shit I'm sorry, my mistake." He paused and looked at me, a hopeful glint in his eye. "Although, I have some extra paper and a good pen right here..."

Varric made me smile, but I still had to refuse. Roghart excused himself and walked me to the front door, ensuring that I wouldn't step on any suspicious puddles on the floor.

"Do you want me to escort you?" he asked as I put my hand on the door handle.

If a gaze could be translated into words, mine said that Gamlen's house was literally around the corner and I'd be the unluckiest person in the whole world to encounter any problems. Strangely enough, Roghart seemed to understand what I meant by lifting my brow and he chuckled.

"I'll see you at home," he said, patting my shoulder. "And Reneka? Good job today."

My grin was quite proud and I would have hugged my brother if we weren't surrounded by noisy men who had their judgment clouded with alcohol. I didn't want the city to spread odd rumors about Roghart.

#

Breathing fresh air after getting out of the inn felt almost as rewarding as removing the collar I had worn as a Saarebas. I didn't have Anders' jacket anymore, but its warmth was still all over me. Had he not told me that he needed a couple of hours of sleep, I would have scurried to the clinic instead of home. He had something else to teach me besides healing arts and I wondered if it was some other magic or a skill mages not imprisoned by the qunari possessed.

It was late, but the adrenaline from the battle kept me awake. I was used to staying up at night and preferred to sleep during the day, mainly because I hadn't wished to encounter the qunari soldiers at my tribe. The idea of changing that was intriguing, although the occasional night missions and the visits to Anders' clinic made it hard to happen. I didn't want to be selfish by meeting Anders only after the sun had set, but it was more comfortable for me. Plus mother didn't approve me wandering around alone with an army of templars patrolling the streets and they weren't an issue at night.

I glanced at the spot where I had waited for Isabela and didn't see the circle I had drawn on the ground anymore. I took a few steps forward, smirking to myself when the place reminded me of what an adventure my life had been ever since my escape. It was still a bit hard to believe how many kind people I had met in such a short time, how diverse my experiences had been in terms of consequences and emotions involved.

As I turned to continue my way to Gamlen's house, my attention was caught by a well-dressed dwarf at one of the merchants' stands. I only saw his back and figured that he was searching for something. His hands kept rubbing his black thick hair and when I got closer to get a better glimpse, I saw barrels behind him, some closed and some opened. His behavior indicated of panic which made me even more curious.

Suddenly, he spun around and yelped, spooking me more than I had spooked him. "Maker's mercy!" he said in a low voice while steadying his breath. "Is sneaking behind people a common habit of yours?"

I shook my head, not certain of how to communicate with the dwarf so that he wouldn't be scared of me.

"Wait," he raised an eyebrow, "are you the one who he sent?"

The dwarf had me totally lost and I struggled to come up with a reply. I fumbled with the writing tools in my pocket and once I managed to take them out, my gaze shifted between the paper and the man.

"Ah, of course!" the dwarf hit his palm with his fist. "You will need a map, of course! Here, let me."

I had no chance to retreat when the dwarf quickly snatched the paper from me and dug a fancy pen from the pouch on his belt. I narrowed my eyes, but the stranger was focused on drawing and paid no mind to my glare. He hummed a cheerful tune and seemed very happy with the finished product. As I inspected the map, I noticed that he had named it 'Anso's Map'. My finger landed on the name and the dwarf looked stunned.

"Maker, pardon my manners!" he apologized. "Anso is my name. And no, you do not have to reveal yours. The job is simple and the employer wished to keep all information limited...if that's okay with you, dear lady."

There was nothing I could do to convince the dwarf that he had mistaken me for someone else. I shrugged and decided to at least listen to what he had to say.

"Silent type, eh?" Anso laughed, but cleared his throat as soon as he realized that I wasn't laughing with him. "It's an easy task. The merchandise I...well, lost needs to be retrieved. There shouldn't be any problems, although the stuff is sadly illegal. It's my fault for getting mixed up in this business, but I would pay you good coin for doing this for me."

A voice in my head warned me that the job couldn't have been so simple. I wasn't afraid of an ambush, but the merchandise. When I put two and two together, I reckoned that it was lyrium as dwarves were the only ones who could process it. Also, Anso seemed like he had dealt with the substance for far too long. His eyes were unnaturally bright blue and the way he acted wasn't that of a completely sane person. Although I hadn't met many of his kind in my life, none had been as fidgety and bustling as Anso was.

Lyrium couldn't harm me, but I wouldn't be the only one receiving unwanted attention for such work. I had a family now and the guards and the templars wouldn't let Roghart out of their sight if his sister was caught in the presence of a smuggler.

On the other hand, I could make the whole issue go away by making sure Anso would leave the city. Without him, no-one could prove that I had even talked to him.

I wrote If I do this, you will take your business elsewhere on the paper and showed it to the dwarf. He gave me a puzzled look, but didn't proceed to ask about my silence.

"Yes, of course!" Anso's head moved up and down. "Trust me, this has been a wake-up call for me. Collect the goods and I'll leave Kirkwall."

I replied with a satisfied smile and hurried to the location on the map. My plan was to be swift before my gut could tell me to expect trouble or before my brothers arrived home only to find my bed empty.

#

Anso had directed me to an old warehouse in the elven alienage. I had only heard about the area and the poor treatment elves tended to receive. The alienage was desolate at night, with no sounds and any particular scents. The tight-built houses were like stacked apartments with small windows, smoke pipes and main doors leading to the street.

There was a source of light though and I stood in awe when watching the huge tree in the center of the area, almost glowing due to its mighty appearance. I had read about the two classes of elves and remembered the history of the vhenadahl, the symbol of the city elves. A ribbon of paper flags hung from its lower branches and I guessed the children of the alienage had made it. It was colorful and sweetly uneven. Leaves covered the massive visible roots of the tree and I could only estimate its age. It irked me how little I knew about the elven culture, so after politely bowing, I walked away to the building where Anso's merchandise was supposed to be.

The door was unlocked and once I stepped inside the warehouse, it was uncomfortably empty. For a while, I had actually believed that there was nothing fishy about the task while gazing at the peaceful elven tree. There were no containers or furniture and the dust in the corners told me that the house was rarely used. It was a perfect place to hide illegal products like lyrium, but everything seemed to go way too smoothy.

I sneaked into the next room and spotted a chest near a pile of spread straws. As I looked closer at the floor, I saw footprints. Although they belonged only to one person, I kept my guard up and steadily approached the chest. My fingers wiggled and I was ready to make myself invisible if someone were to surprise me. To make sure that there were no traps, I created an impact of air that pushed the chest against the wall.

No sounds came from inside it and it made me frown in confusion. When I opened it after waiting for a moment, my jaw dropped. There was absolutely nothing in the chest. I lifted and shook it, hoping to hear some rattling or anything, but I was left disappointed.

My teeth gritted and I cursed in my mind. My stupidity made me sick and I felt my spirit weakening. I had been too willing to help to stop and think sensibly. I had met too many kind and dependable people to filter the shady ones out. Had the qunari caused me to be this bad at socializing and judging the character of a stranger?

I ran to the door and peeked through the gap near the handle. As I expected, a large band of armed people waited outside, all wearing evil bloodthirsty looks on their faces. The location of the warehouse was convenient. If the elves were so disrespected and the alienage loathed, the guards certainly wouldn't be an exception. I couldn't trust them to come to my aid. The shadows of the night were my only hiding places and I couldn't flee.

My only choice was to fight and hope for the best situation where I could defeat all the enemies or Roghart and the others heard the clamor I was going to make to get out of the stalemate.

With a careful and slow movement, my hand picked up a shard of red lyrium from my pocket. If I was going to solve the problem quickly, I had to play all my cards.

As the footsteps outside got nervously louder, I swallowed the lyrium and knelt down. My eyelids were about to close, but the power that filled my veins forced them open and I felt like staring directly at the sun, my vision all white. The substance quickly merged with my own mana and once the initial pain was gone, my body was warm and aroused.

My heart pounded and I got back on my feet, breathing calmly and glaring at the door. To distract the enemies further, I decided to disguise myself. I put my hand in front of my face and moved it like I was wiping with a cloth. The spell I cast concealed my features in a dark black shroud, as if a piece of the night sky was stuck on my face and hair. Such anonymity could save my family from any accusations too.

I prepared an enlarged, enhanced type of a fireball and yanked the door open, hiding behind it at first to confuse the opponents. I heard murmurs of questions and a woman's voice that ordered the others to keep quiet. When she commanded her men to check the area, I saw my chance.

Her back was turned at me when I revealed myself and launched the fireball. It exploded in the middle of the group, knocking everyone in the way prone and instantly burning more than five soldiers to death. I had no intention of waiting for the enemies to gather themselves and dashed forward. Both of my hands were surrounded in swirling ice magic and I swung my arms to cast two cones of frost, freezing men who still were too shocked of the surprise attack. Without Carver there to judge me, I hardened my fists until they were like balls of stone and smashed the heads of three ice statues.

"Flank her, don't let her use her hands!" the woman screamed and charged at me.

I smirked, just to insult her panic, and teleported myself. I appeared behind the vhenadahl tree and had plenty of time to cast another spell to damage as many targets as possible at once. When the enemies noticed me, it was too late for them. I saw the horror in their eyes as the blue ominous ring of spiritual magic below them grew in size and became brighter. Few managed to escape before I could activate the spell, but those unfortunate enough to be caught inside it were engulfed by a pillar of force that caused them to bleed from their ears, noses and mouths. The longer I sustained the spell, the more powerful it got, breaking bones and ripping flesh.

A stinging pain in my chest made me dispel the pillar. I concentrated and realized that there was a mage among the mercenaries and he was trying to drain my energy. A fatigued body and red lyrium was the worst combination ever, so he became my number one target.

The enemies who had almost reached me were too close and the commanding female was aiming at me with a bow. To everyone's surprise, I sprinted towards them, only to blast them with a stunning magic. The distracted men blocked the leader's sight, which provided me enough time to run to the mage.

He made the mistake of casting a protective barrier around himself. It meant that he couldn't move a muscle while keeping it up. I had thought that the mage had figured such a trick wouldn't be able to stop me, but couldn't blame him for never facing a Saarebas drugged with red lyrium before.

I created a sphere of lightning that crackled and bounced violently. When I neared the mage, I could see beads of sweat on his forehead and his eyes widened as my spell gained strength and the lightning bolts licked the barrier. He hopelessly attempted to reinforce his spell, but I penetrated it as easily as one would walk through a running stream of water. My spell tore the barrier apart and not even a gasp escaped the mages lips before the sphere of lightning struck him and gave him a deadly dose of voltage. His corpse collapsed on the ground, floundering from the after effects.

I had single-handedly decimated a major portion of the soldiers and it was only normal for the rest to display fear and doubt. I may have not been a blood-soaked barbarian in a sea of dead bodies, but the steaming magical energy around me was almost more intimidating. They only saw a faceless humanoid who wasn't afraid of cruelty.

As I shifted towards the remaining enemies, they all flinched and took a step back. The commander was clenching her teeth and her hand trembled, squeezing her bow so tight that I could detect the crunching sound of her dark leather glove.

She spat and furiously leered at her troops. "Thirty gold sovereigns to the one who brings me her head!" she yelled. "She's exhausted, now's our chance!"

Her rallying cry seemed to affect the soldiers and they joined in a howl before attempting an united attack against me. The leader was correct to assume that I was almost out of my own mana, but she had no clue of the power the red lyrium supplied me. Even after resting and eating properly, traces of the drug had been strong enough to destroy a qunari dreadnaught back at Isabela's ship. I felt light and confident, sensing how the lyrium continued to strengthen every inch of by body. The tingling at my fingertips made me celebrate my victory in advance by grinning.

I slipped away with a teleportation spell and reappeared at the stairs at the alienage entrance. A cloud of black, necrotic fog gathered between my palms as my hands danced in a circular motion. The mercenaries and their leader were desperately trying to reach me in time, but my spell was ready and I channeled the cloud in the middle of them where it expanded into a mist of death. Compared to the method where my Arvaarad had ordered me to use the same spell to slowly and painfully torture his enemies, the way I quickly suffocated the men by controlling the fog with more magic was a hundred times more merciful. The area fell silent, as if the god of death had entered the battlefield and created a graveyard cloaked in necrotic haze.

I stared at the results of the fight, taking deep breaths and removing the spell that masked my face. In order to evade the mournful scene, I watched the tall elven tree, my eyes going up and scanning the highest branches that were like arms reaching to the night sky. I thought that for the elves, it meant they were always close to their gods and those who had perished.

"You are not getting away alive!" a sudden shout came behind me.

My first instinct should have been to evade, but instead my perplexed mind told me to turn around and meet the one who was about to sink his dagger into me. I gasped and hastily began to cast a magical shield while rising my other arm to take the blow in case I was too late.

I was certain that my eyes were seeing things when all of a sudden a hand punched through the enemy's chest, right where his heart had been. My face and clothes got so bloody that it looked like I had slaughtered an animal while hugging it. The stench was disgusting and my sandals got painted in red too when I staggered away to see who was guilty of making such a mess.

Before I even gazed forward, a shiver alarmed me and I sensed foreign magic. The feeling was only momentary and when I lifted my chin, I saw an elf and understood immediately. Visible silver markings snaked across his bronze skin. The sensation was faint, but I knew they were made of lyrium. Most likely I wouldn't be able to sense it without the red lyrium in my system as the power behind the markings was so well concealed, detectable only when utilized.

I hadn't even realized how rude my staring must have been and I looked into the elf's eyes. His short, pure white hair had spots of blood in it and he looked as puzzled as I was, though he hid his expression better.

"This I did not expect," the elf said in a deep, clear voice while glancing around the alienage. "Am I to believe that you did this by yourself?"

The more people asked questions from me, the more I understood what a disadvantage my muteness was. All I could do to answer was to nod.

The stranger raised an eyebrow. "Impressive, I must say," he laughed a little. "But I remember telling Anso to recruit at least four people for this distraction. These hunters were after me, so let me apologize if you got hurt because of the deception."

Of course it had been a trap, but I needed to know how the elf was involved to make sure I could relax. I presumed he was an ally because I was uninjured thanks to him, but the amount of the mercenaries I had killed was ridiculously high against one elf, making me suspicious. My curiosity however had got me into the current situation and it had only increased after meeting another individual who had survived after being exposed to lyrium like me.

The sleeves of my trousers were somewhat clean. I wiped the stains of red on my right hand and offered it to the elf, giving him a neutral smile of neither a friend or foe.

Despite the confusion on his face, he was kind enough to follow my example. He used his left hand to take mine, not the right one that was smeared with the enemy's blood. I felt the steel of his gauntlets and the lyrium markings on his palm, but the danger he emitted wasn't threatening. In fact, it resembled a lot of the kind of energy I used to wrap myself with to keep the qunari soldiers away from me.

"I can't repay you for your service with a mere handshake," the elf said, grinning briefly. "My name is Fenris and I think I owe you a full explanation."