At the end of the following day, Scout Harding declared the Herald's party fit enough for the field once more, so the next morning they set out again, this time with the aim of finally tracking down the main encampments of the rebel mages and the rebel templars. No matter how much aid the Inquisition provided the refugees, more would continue to get caught in the crossfire. The party had come across smaller skirmishes, whether neither side would yield to any kind of verbal reasoning, but the only benefit that came of these was in gathering enough evidence to indicate that they were indeed members of a larger group. The party would not be fighting alone, of course; Cullen had sent as many experienced soldiers as he could afford to aid their efforts, and they marched a safe distance away, ready to approach when needed.
"If we had scryers, we could at least trace the magic back to the templars or the mages," Cassandra considered out loud.
"For that, we'd need mages who knew how to do that," Varric grumbled. "Any of you?" Solas, Fae and Ellethir all shook their heads guiltily. "No? Too bad all your Circle mages are off their leashes now, Seeker."
Cassandra huffed irritably. "Varric, if you're not—"
"My lady Herald!" a scout approached the group, and knelt in front of Ellethir. "We've located the rebel templars' main camp."
"Speak of the darkspawn," Fae mumbled.
"We weren't seen; if you approach them now, you'll have the advantage of a surprise attack. What are your orders, my lady?"
Ellethir looked to the group, who said nothing but offered encouraging smiles, then back to the scout. "Lead us there."
The templars' camp spiralled around a hillside, so the Herald's party carefully made its way around to the base where the tents ended, to wait for Captain Lysette's men to push from the other side. Hopefully, the templars that did not engage them would be forced back further down the camp, where the Herald's party would be waiting to prevent their retreat.
Before long, the tell-tale clang of armour and weapons and the shouts of surprised templars filled the air, if only from a distance.
"Don't hold back when they get here," Varric warned, nudging Fae.
"What?"
"I saw what you could do a couple of years ago, when the Kirkwall mage camp was near Tantervale. You barbequed those bandits like it was nothing."
"It was not nothing; I don't have an endless supply of magical energy at my fingertips, any more than I have enough energy in my legs to run from here to Haven without stopping. I have not been holding back."
"If you say so."
"Varric," Cassandra warned.
"What? I'm just saying—"
"They're coming!" Ellethir whispered, the gemstone at the head of her staff glowing brightly.
Sure enough, about a dozen fleeing templars appeared from around the bend. Cassandra charged, Varric fired, Solas encased a man wholly in ice, and Ellethir flung a ball of fire from her staff. Fae drew up a barrier, and began gathering energy. Caught off-balance, the templars fell one by one. "Whatever spell you're preparing, better cast it now before there's none left to cast it at," Varric called out to Fae. "I'm saving it for the stragglers," she called back.
There were only a couple left persisting in the fight when Varric caught a flash of silver in the tree-line behind them. "Shit, behind you!" Twenty templars, lined up and roaring, charged at them. Fae swung around and directed the spell at the one directly in front of her. It struck the man in the chest, and an arc of lightning hissed up his armour and knocked his helm clean off. The man screamed, convulsing as a sickening smell rose from his armour. As the man fell to the ground, still shaking, the lightning jumped to the templars on either side, and to those beside them, and so on until every templar in the line were on the ground, screaming, shaking, or lying still.
The others stared at the spectacle. Ellethir glanced at Fae, who looked on sombrely before turning away, heading back up the hill to where Lysette and her men would be waiting for them. "I wasn't holding back," she said numbly as she passed by.
The party and their reinforcements returned to camp as the sun was setting, with great streaks of pink and purple in the sky interrupted only by the Breach, which glowed a pale green in the distance. Faellathi disappeared into her tent, and the next morning, when Ellethir peeked her head in to check on her, she was still asleep, the bowl of stew on her desk left to grow cold.
"How is she?" Solas asked as Ellethir approached the edge of the camp.
"Still asleep."
"That's on me, Herald, sorry. I shouldn't have pushed her," Varric admitted.
Cassandra frowned at him. "No, you shouldn't have. Especially now that we're on the mages' trail and we need as much help as we can get."
Varric scowled back. "You know, for a Seeker, you—"
Ellethir put her hand up, unwilling to hear yet another round of bickering when they hadn't even left camp yet. "It's alright. We'll manage."
Several hours later, Fae woke up groggy and disoriented. Sunlight streamed through the gaps under the tent, and she sat up with a start. The party would have left by now, but perhaps if they hadn't been gone long, she could catch up with them. After working to disentangle herself from the blankets, she shrugged her coat on and stepped outside. She'd misjudged the light; it was closer again to sunset than it was to sunrise. Her stomach twisted painfully with hunger, confirming her suspicions. She'd slept a whole night and day, and nobody thought to wake her? Were they angry with her after that display at the templar encampment? She shouldn't have let Varric goad her into it, showing off like that. What if she'd slipped and the lightning had strayed too far, too quickly for her to rein it back in? What if the Seeker had noticed how her hands shook when she cast it and had decided she was a liability? Was that why they'd left her behind?
Lost in her theories, Fae jumped when Scout Harding tapped her on the arm. "Ram stew?" the dwarf offered, handing her a bowl. "You missed out last night. And this morning. And at noonday," she grinned. "I'll be jealous when you all get to go back to Haven and eat something that isn't ram stew."
"Thank you. Is that the plan? Returning to Haven?"
"Depends on how things went today, I guess. Lynette's men found a map in the templar encampment that indicated pretty clearly where they thought the mages were hiding out. Seems like they were in the midst of planning something big which was disrupted when we attacked yesterday. Maker willing, that map has led the Herald's forces right to the rebel mages' front door. But for now, we wait."
They didn't have to wait long; the Herald's party, followed by Lynette's men, including a few on stretchers, trudged back into the camp a couple of hours later, bruised and muddy, but satisfied.
"We were right," Ellethir plopped down on the ground with an unfair amount of grace. "The map led us right to them, and their barriers were mainly magical in nature. Once the barriers were down, they were blocked in by the cavern."
"I'm sorry for not being there to help," Fae apologised carefully, sitting down beside her.
Ellethir patted her on the shoulder. "Don't be. You were a Circle mage too, once, weren't you? It wouldn't have been easy to see them killed. I'm glad I could spare you that. Besides, you definitely earned that nap."
Fae smiled awkwardly. "That's very thoughtful of you, and I appreciate it, but I don't need or want special treatment."
Varric scoffed. "I may be biased, but I think anyone who can take down twenty trained soldiers in one fell swoop deserves at least a little special treatment."
"I agree," Ellethir declared. "And besides, we've done what we came here to do. The hinterlands will be able to hold out on their own now, for the winter at least, so we can return to Haven for the time being."
"About that," Cassandra joined them around the campfire. "Sister Leliana sent word. A group of chantry clerics has agreed to meet us in Val Royeaux as soon as we can make the journey. We will be returning to Haven only for provisions and to collect our new mounts, courtesy of Master Dennet. The horses will make the journey shorter, but it will still take us a few weeks to reach Val Royeaux."
Fae groaned.
Cassandra frowned quizzically, then smiled. "Is this the infamous Fereldan disdain for Orlais I detect?"
"Not Orlais. Horses."