TW for this chapter: panic attack

It was the mages who dealt the brunt of the damage in this bout, as shortswords, longswords and one great-axe sliced through the wispy wraiths with very little effect, the creatures simply re-forming until each one was eventually caught by a blast of ice, a spear of lightning, or raw magical energy. As the first one dissipated, Ellethir ran straight into the nearest open ball of light, and the voice of Justinia echoed off the rocks. "Run while you can! Warn them!"

"Did you hear that too?" Ellethir span around in surprise, making eye-contact with an increasingly frustrated Cassandra, whose greatsword sliced through the wraiths uselessly.

"We did! Keep going, Inquisitor!"

Another fell with a screech, and the deep timbre of Corypheus boomed. "Bring forth the sacrifice."

Another, and Justinia screamed. "Why are you doing this? You, of all people?"

The final one sank down into the ground and disappeared, and this time it was Ellethir's voice calling out. "What's going on here?"

In a moment, the Fade disappeared, replaced by a wide, stone-walled chamber. Divine Justinia was floating in the air, her arms held up by a red magical energy, pouring from the palms of several Grey Wardens. They watched as Corypheus approached. "Now is the hour of our victory," he proclaimed.

"Why are you doing this? You, of all people?" the Divine pleaded, glancing frantically at the Wardens staring dead-eyed below her. There was no response from them.

"Keep the sacrifice still," Corypheus ordered, holding an orb in his hand which flared to life with green mist and light. He held it aloft towards the Divine, the green light enveloping her, and she gasped in pain. "Someone! Help me!"

Then, the doors burst open, and Ellethir rushed inside. "What's going on here?"

Corypheus looked towards her, and the Divine suddenly knocked the orb out of his hand. It went rolling towards Ellethir, and she leaned down to pick it up. As soon as she did, the light emanating from it flared, and her mouth opened wide in shock as she gripped her wrist, the orb clinging to her palm of its own volition. Corypheus roared angrily, charging towards her as the light from the orb grew brighter and brighter, but before he could reach Ellethir, both of them were flung backwards, and an explosion rocked the room, shunting the viewers out of the vision with a jolt.

"So, your mark did not come from Andraste. It came from the orb Corypheus used in his ritual," Stroud said slowly.

Ellethir stared down at the Anchor, watching it flicker. "When I faced Corypheus in Haven, he had the broken orb with him. And he told me that this mark on my hand, the Anchor, had ruined some ritual. I knew that the orb caused the explosion," she glanced at Solas, who looked back at her impassively, "But I should have guessed it made this Anchor as well."

Justinia reappeared behind them. "Corypheus intended to rip open the Veil, use the Anchor to enter the Fade, and throw open the doors of the Black City. Not for the Old Gods, but for himself. When you disrupted his plan, the orb bestowed the Anchor upon you instead."

"So Andraste was not part of this at all," Cassandra said, clearly disappointed with this revelation.

"That's probably for the best," Hawke muttered. "This situation is complicated enough already without getting the Bride of the Maker involved."

Justinia smiled. "If you believe in the Maker, then you believe He made this world and everything in it, including your accident. Perhaps Andraste led Her Herald to this ritual in order to interrupt it and prevent an even greater catastrophe."

"I would like to believe so, truly."

"Believing is a powerful weapon in the Fade, Cassandra," Justinia said approvingly, before turning back to Ellethir. "Inquisitor, you cannot escape the lair of the Nightmare until you regain all that it took from you. You have recovered some of yourself, but now that you have taken something back from it, it knows you are here. You must make haste. I will prepare the way ahead." And with that, she vanished.

"Could that truly have been the Most Holy?" Cassandra pondered, as the party began moving forward again.

Solas hmmed. "We have survived in the Fade physically. Perhaps she has found a way as well. Or, if it is a spirit that identifies so strongly with Justinia that it believes it is her, how can we say it is not?"

"She seems interested in helping us, that much is clear," Stroud conceded.

Blackwall tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. "And the Nightmare? From what she said, I don't look forward to meeting it."

Iron Bull clapped him on the shoulder. "That's the thing currently scaring the shit outta me."

"Fear is a very old, very strong feeling," Solas warned. "It predates love, pride, compassion… every emotion save perhaps desire. Be wary. The Nightmare will do anything in its power to weaken our resolve."

The group fell silent for a few minutes, keeping a wary eye on their surroundings as they walked.

Stroud snuck a sideways glance at Hawke marching beside him. "Something troubles you, Hawke?"

Hawke stopped abruptly and spun on her heel with a scowl. "I wondered if you might be concerned about the Grey Wardens holding the Divine in that vision. Their actions led to her death."

Stroud scowled back. "I assumed he had taken their minds, as you have seen him do before. Come. We can argue after we escape this dark place."

"Oh, I intend to."

As the group made their way down a steep decline, a deep, crushing voice emanated in the air around them.

"Ah, we have a visitor," it observed. "Some silly little girl comes to steal the fear I kindly lifted from her shoulders. You should have thanked me and left your fear where it lay, forgotten. You think that pain will make you stronger? What fool filled your mind with such drivel? The only one who grows stronger from your fears is me. But you are all guests here in my home, so by all means, let me return what you have forgotten."

A number of wraiths materialised before them, while several shades rose from the shallow pools ahead of them and charged forth. The group fought valiantly, striking, smiting, cleaving through demons until they were free to continue once more. They hadn't advanced further than thirty paces before the Iron Bull, at the end of the procession, caught the sound of a whimper behind him and swung around, great-axe at the ready.

Further ahead, Ellethir halted, doing a quick head count. "Wait! Where's Fae?"

"She's back here, boss!" Bull called ahead. "Hold on…"

Fae was curled up, keeling over on her knees at the base of the incline, hands clutching at her head. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, tears streaking down her face, and she was mumbling something to herself.

All around her was darkness. There was nowhere to move, nothing to focus on except the screams, and the snarls, and the crying, so much crying, and little flashes of light flashing through a tiny keyhole in the door. She was going to die here, she had been forgotten, the grown-ups had forgotten her, the abominations would find her any second now and they would…they would… The door suddenly burst open, and she was back in the Fade, the Iron Bull's giant hands on her shoulders as she let out a startled scream. "NO!"

"Come back to us, Seer," Bull said firmly, forcing Fae's eyes to meet his. She struggled to push him away, panicking. "No, no, they were right there, they…were…"

"Faellathi, look at me. You are here. Demon-town. Ass-end. With us." Her eyes gradually refocused, darting between him and the group now gathering around them, and she nodded shakily, still hyperventilating.

"Give her some space," Bull ordered, helping the trembling elf to her feet. "Hold onto my hands, that's it. Breathe."

"I…can't," Fae gasped.

"Yes you can. Do it. Breathe in."

She shuddered, but she took a breath in, and then out. And then in. And out.

"What did you do to her?" Ellethir yelled, demanding an answer from the sky above them.

"I am simply being a generous host," the Nightmare replied nonchalantly. "If you deserve to have your memories back, why should I not extend the same courtesy to my other guests? Especially one who has given me so much."

"I'm going to FUCKING destroy you," Hawke spat, and the Nightmare laughed.

"And you are so very talented at destruction, Champion."

"We…should keep moving," Fae coughed, now leaning heavily on the Iron Bull's arm.

Ellethir didn't look convinced. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright. But I want you to stay in the back with Bull."

"I've got her, boss."

More demons waited ahead of them, and when the group wasn't fighting, the Nightmare continued its taunting.

"Perhaps I should be afraid, facing the most powerful members of the Inquisition," it chuckled darkly. "Like Blackwall. Ah, there's nothing like a Grey Warden. And you are nothing like a Grey Warden."

"Mind your words, beast, Wardens are known for killing creatures far worse than you," Blackwall snarled.

"Yes, they are," the Nightmare said smugly. "Hm, the Qunari. A lovely host for one of my minions. Or maybe I will ride his body myself. He is just a body, after all. Ready to serve."

The Iron Bull grimaced. "I'd like to see you try. Creepy fucker."

"Perhaps later. Oh, Cassandra. Deep down, you must know that your Inquisitor is a fraud. Yet more evidence that there is no Maker, that all your 'faith' has been for naught."

"Die in the Void, demon," Cassandra spat.

"Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banał enasalin. Mar solas ena mar din."

"Banal nadas," Solas said sharply, and the Nightmare laughed again.

"What did he say?" Hawke asked.

"It—"

"Did you think you mattered, Hawke?" the Nightmare interrupted, and Hawke sighed.

"Oh good, it's my turn."

"Did you think anything you ever did mattered? You couldn't even save your city. How could you expect to strike down a god? Merrill, Varric, Faellathi. They are all going to die, just like your family, and everyone you ever cared about."

"That's going to grow tiresome quickly."

"I'm not going to die," Fae called out, annoyed, and the Nightmare shifted its attention once more.

"No, you won't, because as usual, you hide behind your allies. Stronger fighters, better mages. First Neria, then Hawke, now your Inquisitor. You flee from your battles and you are even rewarded for it. What was it they called you in Kirkwall? Mage-saviour? How many of the mages you helped escape from Kirkwall still live? Whose skin have you ever really saved beside your own?"

Faellathi scowled up at the sky. "Fuck off! You don't survive by fighting alone. That's not cowardice, that's survival. I know who I am. And I only got to find out because I survived."

The Nightmare tsked. "Oh, please. You don't even know what you are, let alone who…"

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Fae muttered to herself.

"Ignore him," Stroud insisted. "We will destroy this creature soon enough."

"Such heroes, brave heroes. But this bodes well for me too, for there is no bravery without fear."

Leading the party around the corner, Ellethir hesitated as a veritable swarm of giant spiders advanced. Without thinking, she summoned fire to her palms and let it loose, taking down the first few while the rest of the party descended on the rest.

When Fae rounded the corner with the Iron Bull, all her previous bravado faded as she froze in place. "I—I can't," she said, shaking her head fervently. "Bull, I can't…" Her breathing become fast again, her eyes locked on the creatures. "Bull…!"

"Look at me," Bull commanded, and Fae reluctantly tore her gaze away from them. "You're the Seer of the Inquisition. You can handle deepstalkers."

Fae's expression crumpled a little in confusion. "Deepstalkers? What do you…?"

Hawke stopped beside them for a moment, panting. "Smaller fears, probably servants of the Nightmare. And ofcourse they look like giant spiders," She dashed off again.

"These are the smaller fears?" Bull grimaced. "I hate this place!"

When the party had managed to clear the way of the minor fears, the spirit of Justinia was waiting for them at the end of a narrow passageway. "The Nightmare is closer now. It knows you seek escape. With each moment, it grows stronger," she said solemnly, lifting a hand towards the open area ahead, where more wraiths lay in wait. "The remainder of your missing memories, I expect, Inquisitor."

As the first of these wraiths fell, Justinia's voice rang out. "The demons!" One more, and Ellethir's voice yelled, "Keep running!"

With the fall of the final wraith, everyone shared the vision as they had the first time. They watched as giant spiders skittered up an impossibly-steep incline in the physical Fade, Ellethir desperately clambering up just out of their reach. Divine Justinia waited at the top of the incline where the Rift was, reaching out a hand towards her.

"This is the Breach back in Haven," the present Ellethir recounted. "That's how we…how I escaped."

"The demons!" Justinia shouted in panicked warning, arm outstretched, and then the vision abruptly flashed to the two women bolting towards the Rift.

"Keep running!" Ellethir yelled. She almost reached the Rift, and then behind her, Justinia screamed. Ellethir turned and ran back, grasping onto Justinia's sleeve, but Justinia shook her head.

"Go," she said, pulling her arm back. The moment Ellethir lost her hold, Justinia was flung back far away by some invisible force, leaving Ellethir to flee through the Rift alone. The vision ended with a flash of light as Ellethir passed through the Rift.

Ellethir turned to the spirit of Justinia. "It was you," she said softly. "They thought it was Andraste sending me from the Fade, but it was the Divine behind me. And then you…she died."

'Justinia,' her sad expression mirroring Ellethir's, bowed her head in acquiescence. "Yes."

"So this creature is simply a spirit," Stroud clarified.

Hawke rolled her eyes. "I think we all knew that was the case, Warden."

"I am sorry if I disappoint you," the spirit said mournfully, and Hawke's gaze softened a little.

The form of Justinia began to grow brighter until it glowed golden, rising into the air and shrinking somewhat as it assumed its natural form- a vaguely feminine figure, too bright to make out any more than what could be the shape of a Chantry cornette on its head, and the faint outline of facial features.

"The Nightmare watches Corypheus and grows powerful off the fear. Were you like that for the Divine?" Ellethir asked. "A spirit watching her from the Fade, inspired by her faith?"

The spirit smiled. "If that is the story you wish to tell, it is not a bad one."

"What we do know is that the mortal Divine perished at the temple, thanks to the Grey Wardens," Hawke glared pointedly at Stroud, who bristled at the accusation.

"As I said, the Grey Wardens responsible for that crime were under the control of Corypheus," he hissed back through gritted teeth. "But we can discuss this further once we return to Adamant."

Hawke barked out a hollow laugh. "Yes, Adamant, where the Inquisition is facing an army of demons raised by the Wardens."

"How dare you judge us!" Stroud bellowed. "You tore Kirkwall apart and started the mage rebellion!"

"To protect innocent mages, not madmen drunk on blood magic! Even without the influence of Corypheus, the Wardens go too far. They need to—"

"Oh for the love of your stupid Maker, could both of you please shut up?!" Ellethir snapped. Hawke and Stroud both stared at her, surprised, and even Ellethir herself seemed momentarily taken aback by her own sharp outburst, but she kept to it. "We can argue once we've escaped from the giant fear demon."

Stroud's eyes widened as he pointed behind her. "Inquisitor…"

Giant spiders were crawling down the walls and heading straight for the group.

"The Nightmare has found us," the spirit hovering nearby observed quietly, vanishing from sight.