Outside, the sun had come out, revealing old Crestwood village in all its hollowed-out, grimy glory. On their way back through, the group spoke once again to the spirit of Command, who returned, satisfied, to the Fade with a blink of an eye. The party also took the time to mark the spots where remains were found for the scouts who would come to collect them for Sister Vaughn's pyre. Back in New Crestwood village, the door to the mayor's house hung open, and a small crowd had begun to gather around it, chatting amongst themselves.

"Excuse us, coming through," Dorian announced loudly, parting the crowd to allow Ellethir and the others through. "Inquisition is here to save the day." Inside, the mayor's house looked just as they'd left it before, although the mayor himself was nowhere to be found. Vivienne plucked a letter off the desk.

"It seems our theory was correct," she said, handing the letter to Ellethir. "Mayor Dedrick was indeed responsible for the flooding of Crestwood. This is his signed confession, as if we needed any further proof."

Cassandra frowned. "But why would he do such a thing?"

"Because the refugees they took in were spreading Blight-sickness to the locals. Enforcing a quarantine by moving them in and around the caves wasn't working; everyone who got sick died. And then the darkspawn attacked," Ellethir explained, her gaze still on the letter. "Releasing the dam drowned both the darkspawn and the Blight-sick."

There were a few moments of silence.

"…Andraste have mercy," Cassandra said quietly.

"No doubt he realised we'd be onto him soon enough when we came back to ask about the wheelwright's letter," Blackwall muttered. "Tucked tail and ran to avoid the consequences of us finding out. We should send runners to catch up with him. He should face judgement at Skyhold."

Ellethir blanched at the mention of judgement, but nodded. "Yes. If Harding has no one to spare, I'll ask Cullen to put some men on the task when our soldiers arrive at Caer Bronach."

"We're losing the light," Varric pointed out. "Now that the townsfolk aren't in imminent danger, if we want to reach Warden Stroud we'd better move quickly."

Vivienne tsked. "Certainly not. We shall retire to Caer Bronach for the night, after the Inquisitor has had a chance to make herself presentable. Honestly, master Tethras. We must all have a care for the Herald of Andraste's dignity, especially when she is to meet a senior representative of the Grey Wardens."

"That senior representative is currently on the run from his own Order, hiding out in a cave," Varric rolled his eyes.

"Yes, well, his circumstances needn't reflect ours. Come along, Inquisitor," Vivienne ushered Ellethir out the door, swatting a leaf out of the elf's hair as if to prove a point.

Caer Bronach was a little more lively than last they'd seen it, as the inhabitants of the Inquisition's former forward camp had since moved in and begun the process of setting up a more long-term occupancy. Lanterns and tents, tables and campfires had been re-established while the appointed quartermaster made up lists of what else would be needed that hadn't already been left behind by the stronghold's previous tenants.

After a quick supper, Ellethir attempted to fall asleep, but with the events of the day still roiling in her mind and the unfamiliar noises of a stronghold being made ready, it was a hard-won rest. The sky was still faintly orange with sunrise behind the clouds when she awoke. Muscles still stiff from the day before, she practically hobbled outside, where Fae was staring out at the marshlands before them, having awoken even earlier. She greeted Ellethir with a sleepy nod, dark shadows under her eyes.

"Morning, Inquisitor."

"Morning. Couldn't sleep, either?"

"Nah. I've never been particularly good at it. Sleep as long as I will, but I'll still wake up tired. Varric thinks it's a mage thing. Apparently, we spend too much time dreaming in the Fade to actually get any rest," she murmured with a smile.

Ellethir stretched, her back creaking irritably. "He might be onto something."

"Mm."

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something, if you're awake enough?"

"Mm? About what?"

"Well, about you, really," Ellethir rubbed the back of her head. In her head the question sounded far less awkward. "Why you joined the Inquisition. I know Leliana asked you to, but I mean, why you agreed."

Fae smiled tiredly, and nudged her with an elbow. "I understand. I'd heard you've being going around, asking people about their life stories."

Ellethir put her face in her hands and groaned. "It was Bull's idea, really. He suggested it might be easier to work with people, or rather, it would be easier for people to work with me, a Dalish Inquisitor, if we all knew more about each other. And how we all ended up on the same side, fighting for the same things. But he's much better at finding things out about people without making it awkward."

Fae smiled wryly. "Maybe, but that's an unfair comparison. He's trained in the art of making people tell him things. Ben-Hassrath."

Ellethir nodded, considering. "Have you met other Ben-Hassrath, besides the Iron Bull?"

Fae thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I've met other Qunari. I don't know if any were Ben-Hassrath. I don't really know that much about the Qun, if I'm being honest. As for your earlier question, I joined the Inquisition for a lot of reasons. Because I didn't want to let Leliana down, because I thought I could help, because it felt right. Lots of reasons. And you probably already know the rest of my life story, thanks to Leliana's whisper campaign. And Varric's stories, too, now that I think of it," she added, rolling her eyes.

"Well, I don't know how much of it is true, but…you grew up in the Circle of Magi with your cousin Neria, the Hero of Ferelden, and you were the youngest mage to ever pass your Harrowing, the mage test." Ellethir started listing off points with her fingers. "You escaped with her during the Blight and fled to Kirkwall with the pirate queen Isabela. And when the mage Anders blew up the Chantry and Knight-Commander Meredith went mad, you helped the mages escape the city. Have I got it right?"

"Uh, yeah, just about, I guess," Fae admitted. "I didn't really grow up in the Circle. I grew up in the alienage in Denerim, with my family. I wasn't taken long before the start of the Blight, so all up I was only at the Circle for about a year, maybe less. And at the time, my Harrowing was a scandal. It was done without proper Chantry approval, and nobody expected I would survive."

Ellethir's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Survive?"

Fae grimaced. "The Harrowing itself was this fucked-up rite of passage where the templars would use lyrium vapours to hurl your mind into the Fade, where there would be a demon waiting. Either you defeated the demon, the demon killed you, or it possessed you, at which point the templars would kill you. Surviving the Harrowing was proof that you were capable of resisting demonic possession, and it was a test you did as an adult, after years of training as an apprentice. I was ten."

Ellethir's eyes were as wide as saucers. "And you survived that?"

Fae nodded, expression neutral as she stared out towards Crestwood's landscape. "I did. A day or two later, there was a rebellion in the Circle, started by a possessed mage who'd just returned from the Battle of Ostagar. He used blood magic, turning some people into abominations, torturing others…it was a massacre. It was only by chance that Neria arrived in time to save the day. She had Morrigan smuggle me out when she found me."

"The Witch of the Wilds?"

"That's the one."

Ellethir was quiet for a while. "No wonder the Circle mages rebelled," she said finally. "But, you saved many of them, the ones in Kirkwall. You should be proud of that."

Fae was quiet for a while. "Most of the mages didn't make it," she said finally. "Kirkwall's Circle housed almost a thousand mages, it was by far the biggest in Thedas. Less than a hundred survived that day."

Ellethir's face fell once more. "Elgar'nan…"

Fae laughed, patting her on the shoulder. "Leli's rumour-mill has a lot to work with, I know. And what about you, Ellethir of Clan Lavellan? Why did you join the Inquisition? What's your life story?"

Ellethir was taken aback. "Well, this, for one thing," she said, holding out her palm, the Anchor flickering as it flexed. "And my life story isn't that interesting, or it wasn't until the Inquisition. We moved around the Free Marches, and I was raised by Keeper Deshanna, and she trained me as her First."

"And? What was it like, being the clan's First?"

Ellethir sighed. "It was… boring, a lot of the time. Sometimes the lessons were interesting, but most of the time I wished I was learning what all the others were learning. And it wasn't like I could ask them about it."

"Why not?"

"Well, because…" she struggled to find the words. "Because when you're the First, it means you'll be the Keeper one day. The leader. That makes you different. The clan was kind to me, but my peers sort of… kept me at a distance. And I kept myself at a distance, if I'm being totally honest."

Fae nodded, considering. "My friend, Merrill, was once the First of her clan. She said something similar."

"Merrill, as in the Champion of Kirkwall's lover?"

Fae chuckled. "Among other things, yes. Speaking of which…" her eyes sparkled mischievously. "What about Solas?"

Ellethir's shoulders stiffened. "What about Solas?"

"I've noticed how you practically skip away from your little chats with him."

"I don't skip away. But…yes. There is something." She blushed. Fae laughed, and Ellethir's face grew hotter. "What?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"Isn't he a bit…? You know…he's hahren."

Ellethir scoffed. "He's not that much older than me."

"Old enough for you to call him hahren."

"Watch it, lethallan," Ellethir poked her tongue out in a very un-Inquisitor-ly fashion.

Fae put her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. I won't say another word about it." She stretched. "We should probably get ready to leave anyway, we've kept Hawke's Warden friend waiting long enough."

The cave marked out on the scouting map as the Warden's location was further south than the party had been able to travel previously. It was one of a number of cave entrances in the area, all huddled in one corner. Across the otherwise open farmland, perched on top of some ancient ruin, was the unmistakeable shape of the high dragon that had flown by them overhead the day before.

Hawke was waiting for them outside one of the cave entrances, waving them over once she saw them. "Glad you made it, I just got here myself. My contact with the Wardens should be at the back of the cave, follow me."

Ellethir was greeted by way of a sword drawn and pointed in her direction, a flash of silverite casting a shadow by the campfire. Fae's arcane protective field materialised immediately in response, and Hawke held her hands up.

"It's just us," she reassured him. "I've brought the Inquisitor."

The Warden, an Orlesian man with dark, heavy-set brows and a thick handle-bar moustache outlining a lined face, bowed deeply after sheathing his sword.

"Pardon me," he apologised. "My name is Stroud, and I am at your service, Inquisitor."

Ellethir inclined her head. "Well met, Warden Stroud. I'll take all the help I can get, but I've been getting the impression the Wardens are in hot water as well, and I have reason to suspect that Corypheus is behind all of it."

"I fear it is so," Stroud agreed. "When our friend Hawke here slew Corypheus, Weisshaupt was happy to put the matter to rest. But an archdemon can survive wounds that seem fatal, and with his apparently historical connection to the creation of the Blight, I feared Corypheus might possess the same power. Especially given that he has proved more than once that he can use his connection with the Blight to affect the minds of Wardens." Stroud began to pace back and forth past the campfire. "So, I began to investigate this possibility. I uncovered clues, but no proof. Then, not long after, every Warden in Orlais began to hear the Calling, and I suspect, so too did every Warden in Thedas."

Fae's face was ashen. "Every Warden…?"

"Maker, why didn't you tell me?" Hawke was equally shocked.

Stroud dismissed them both with a wave of his hand. "

It was a Grey Warden matter. I was bound by an oath of secrecy."

"They're all dying…?" Fae realised in a horrified whisper.

Stroud shook his head vehemently. "No. I believe it is a false Calling created by Corypheus, much like the false archdemon he has at his command. But the Wardens believe they are running out of time."

"Running out of time for what?" Ellethir was completely lost. "What is this 'Calling?' And how do we know the archdemon that was at Haven is not the real thing?"

"If Corypheus' archdemon was genuine, we would be in the midst of a Blight. As Grey Wardens, we would hear it in our minds, calling the darkspawn hordes to battle, which we have not," Stroud said firmly. "That is why I do not believe this Calling is real either, although I have no way to confirm this. What matters is that my fellow Wardens believe it, and are acting accordingly. As for the Calling itself, it is how a Warden knows that the Blight's corruption within his body will soon claim his mind," Stroud said solemnly. "Starts with dreams. Then come whispers in his head. The Warden says his farewells, and goes to the Deep Roads to meet his death in combat."

Ellethir mulled this over. "So, Corypheus isn't controlling their minds directly. He's bluffing them with this Calling, to make them desperate. But desperate enough to do what?"

"That will require some further explanation," Stroud admitted. "A Blight begins when the darkspawn horde finds one of the old gods of Tevinter, in their Deep Road prisons. The old god is corrupted by their invasion, and becomes an archdemon, who rallies the darkspawn to wage war on the living. This Blight is only ended when a Grey Warden, someone who is also tied to the Blight, kills the archdemon who began it. That is why Grey Wardens must exist," Stroud explained. "If the Grey Wardens were to be wiped out, the world would end with the next Blight. Warden-Commander Clarel spoke of a blood ritual to prevent future Blights before we all perished. When I protested the plan as madness, my own comrades turned on me."

"So the Wardens are making some last, desperate attack on the darkspawn?"

"They will try, although I have no doubt that whatever Corypheus' intentions are, it has nothing to do with stopping the Blight."

"If every Warden is hearing this Calling…" Varric spoke up. "That would include you," he gestured with a thumb to Blackwall standing beside him, who nodded grimly. "As well as Blondie, and the Hero of Ferelden. Shit."

"And King Alistair of Ferelden." Ellethir suddenly realised, spinning around to face Fae. "Did he say anything to you, when we crossed paths in Redcliffe?"

Fae shook her head, puzzled. "No, he…Oh," she breathed, looking stricken. "He mentioned…It didn't make sense to me at the time, but, yes. He must think he's dying, too."

"And he has no heir," Vivienne pointed out. "Nor is he even wed. Ferelden still has no clear line of succession."

"For that and many other reasons, we must uncover what Corypheus has done and end it before it is too late," Stroud decreed, digging around in his pack and pulling out a worn map of Thedas.

"The last I heard before I fled, the Grey Wardens are gathering here, at an ancient Tevinter ritual tower on the Western Approach," he said, pointing to a marked tower around the south-west of the Orlesian empire. "The ritual Clarel mentioned is set to be undertaken in three weeks' time, to give the Ferelden Wardens time to travel such a distance, which means—"

"She has the Ferelden Wardens as well?" Cassandra interrupted. "I was under the impression that they were under the command of their own Warden-Commander; the Hero of Ferelden."

Stroud nodded gravely. "Indeed. Whether this means the Hero of Ferelden is complicit in Clarel's scheme, I cannot say. She has not been seen at the Warden base in Amaranthine for some time. The same goes for the First Warden, our Order's highest-ranking member. Apparently, as the Wardens are treated as nobility in the Anderfels, he has been too wrapped up in their politics to pay much mind to anything else. But none of that changes the fact that we must leave as soon as possible in order to catch up with those in the Western Approach before it is too late."

"Of course. You are welcome to return with us to Skyhold on our way back through, Warden Stroud," Ellethir offered, to which Stroud agreed graciously.

"Just as soon as we deal with the high dragon and the wyverns and Creators know what else is trying to wipe Crestwood off the map once and for all," she added under her breath on their way out of the cave.