Fade to Black

The flames were consuming her. Desperately, she tried to concentrate, to remind herself the flames weren’t real, just another illusion of the Fade. This wasn’t a real battle, she wasn’t really here, as long as she remained focused she could drive the Sloth demon out of her mind-

She faltered, as she heard Morrigan screaming, saw Wynne consumed by the flames as the demon continued its assault. She could smell her own body burning, the demon growing in strength as her companions fell, until in the end there was nothing she could think of but the pain as she fell.

As darkness overwhelmed her, she heard the Sloth demon’s slow deep voice.

“I had hoped this would be easier.” It murmured. “I did my best to make you happy, but it seems you cannot be content as you are. To accept what I offer, you will have to be broken…”

* * *

“…have to be broken.” Dimly, she heard the harsh voices outside her cell door. There was a sickly smell, and she slowly realised she was lying in a pool of her own vomit. She remembered being ill the night before. The food her captors had given her was rancid more often than not.

She didn’t know how long it had been since she’d been thrown in the cells beneath the castle. A week, at least, she was sure. She stared at the walls, trying to ignore the guard’s conversation outside. They’d left her alone up until now, at least, content to merely slowly starve her. Her noble blood had bought her at least that much protection.

“Thought we were meant to leave her alone.” She heard the voices outside. “Boss’s orders.”

“Well, he’s decided what to do with her. What we get to do with her.” She tried not to think about what they meant, tried not to remember the screams she’d heard each night from the captive elven servants in the cells next to her.

Grey stone, she thought, staring at the wall, trying not to panic. Grey… Why did that seem so important to her?

Grey Wardens, she remembered. There was something important about the Grey Wardens.

Slowly, she remembered. The guard who’d brought her food last night… or had it been the night before that? He’d mentioned the Grey Wardens, taking a great deal of relish in informing her they’d been wiped out at Ostagar. King Cailan had fallen there too, alongside his army. Her brother Fergus was probably dead too, she realised. Everyone who might care about her fate was dead now.

She tried to remain calm as she heard the clank of her cell door being unlocked, tried to hold herself with the confidence her mother had always shown when faced with danger. She tried to meet the leering gaze of the two guards who entered, tried not to let them see fear in her face.

As they moved towards her, though, her confidence faltered, and instinctively she stepped backwards. A moment later one of the guards had grabbed her, pinning her arms to her sides as the other tore at the ragged remains of her once-fine clothing. She spat in their faces, struggling as they grabbed at her body, snarling in impotent fury as they laughed at her. One of them slapped her, the metal of the gauntlet digging deep into her cheek as they pushed her to the ground.

They smell like darkspawn, she thought briefly, as they continued clawing at her naked body, one pulling painfully at her nipple, stretching it far enough she almost thought he was going to pull it off. There was something faintly unreal about the experience, as if she was watching it from a distance even as she kicked and screamed. Somehow, she couldn’t believe this was happening to her, even as she saw a guard begin removing her greaves and the other held her down, even as he came towards her, the swollen cock jutting out from his body the size of a mace, she still couldn’t quite believe she was going to be raped-

The pain was unimaginable, and she felt like she was being torn apart as the guard forced himself on her, the stink of his sweat filling her nose as he pushed himself into her. There was a brief sensation of tearing, and she screamed, not knowing if it was merely – merely! She thought bitterly – her virginity being shredded by this assault, or if the guard was permanently damaging her as he violated her.

She’d almost forgotten about the other guard, but then she felt him grabbing her as the first continued forcing himself deeper into her, and then he said something she didn’t understand to his companion, who rose to his feet, dragging her upright, his cock now buried so far inside her it was impossible for her not to move when he did, and the other guard moved behind her.

She tried not to scream as she felt the other guard brush against her exposed arse and she realised what he intended. Her eyes were closed, and she was biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood as she tried desperately to focus on something, anything other than what was happening to her. It wasn’t enough, as she felt her arse roughly parted, and a moment later a hard feeling like a thick metal pole being jabbed inside her. The second guard was, if anything, larger than the first, and her cries echoed off the stone walls as he groaned, pushing himself even deeper than the other guard had, blinding pain overwhelming her as she felt his rough skin like sandpaper as it rubbed against her, the obscene sound of his balls slapping against her arse as he continued thrusting into her, while the first guard continued his assault.

They sound like darkspawn too, she thought in a brief moment of lucidity as they grunted against her body. Exactly like darkspawn. Briefly, she grasped that that thought was important, and she tried to concentrate. How do I know what darkspawn sound like, she tried to think.

She screamed again as the guards continued their assault, the thought lost to the pain.

* * *

She shivered in a corner of her cell. There was generally a few hours late at night when she was still left alone. But soon morning will come, she thought, then pushed the thought out of her mind. It did no good to dwell on such things.

Three days, she thought briefly, seeing the deep bruises on her arms and legs where she’d tried to fight them. Three days of the guards using her as their whore. Three days she’d been violated in ways she couldn’t have imagined before, three days of them forcing themselves on her, inside her.

She couldn’t even cry. She’d used up all her tears the night Howe’s men had attacked the castle, and the morning after, when her captors had dragged her outside to watch as her parent’s broken bodies were thrown into a pit to rot.

She couldn’t sit or stand without pain. The first night had been the easiest. After that, they’d started coming for her three at a time, four, more. They forced her to lick them clean after they raped her arse, forced her to use her hands on their cocks even as she choked as another was forced down her throat. At least with the first two, when they were finally exhausted they’d left, they hadn’t been immediately replaced with another pair.

She couldn’t escape them. Even when she was alone, the room still stunk of them. Like darkspawn she thought again, clinging to that thought. It was important, very important, she thought. I’ve never seen darkspawn, and yet I know this is exactly what they smell like.

I have seen them, she thought dimly, clinging to the thought. I need to… I need to find allies to fight them.

She was staring at a tiny hole in the wall. A mouse hole, she thought, wondering why it gave her such a glimmer of hope. She concentrated, thinking of the darkspawn, thinking of the mouse hole, and slowly she remembered everything.

It was still hard to think, hard to concentrate. Hard to remember what was real and what was just the Sloth demon’s nightmare. It all felt the same. Her body still ached, she could still remember being captured by Howe’s men just as clearly as she remembered escaping with Duncan. But she remembered the shapeshifting at least, and imagining herself a mouse, she scurried through the hole in the wall outside.

The Sloth demon was waiting for her, as the walls of the prison cell faded around her. She tried to scurry past it undetected, but it slowly turned to her, grabbing her as she tried to escape, clutching at her tiny body as it carried her.

“You’re being naughty.” It yawned at her as she squirmed. “Time to go back again.”

She could feel the demon’s touch in her mind, and she was forced back to the bruised and helpless body trapped in a dungeon cell. But even as weariness overwhelmed her and she forgot all she’d managed to remember, she still found herself left with a vague sense of hope.

Its weaker now, she thought briefly, before she was thrown back into her nightmare. It’s not used to exerting itself this much to contain me. If I face it again, I might be able to defeat it. If I could just find my companions again…

* * *

“We’ve found one of your companions.”

She was tired and hurt, but she forced herself to stand as the guards entered. As long as she got up again every time they forced her to the ground, they hadn’t defeated her. Staring at the guard’s sneering faces, she wondered what new trick they were planning.

“Come and see him.” They gestured for her to leave the cell. She swallowed nervously, wondering what sort of trap this was. Companion? She wondered, her heart sinking. Was she to be taken to see the body of another of her family members? Please don’t let it be Fergus, she thought. Anyone but him.

She barely cared that they were dragging her naked through the castle that had once been her home. The other guards they passed had all done far worse things to humiliate her than leer and grope her as she walked past, and the few remaining elven servants…

She saw the broken look in their faces as they turned away from her as she passed. They were just as much victims as her.

She realised the guards were leading her towards the great hall, and she was sickened as she entered to see Howe calmly sitting in her father’s throne, feeling more revolted by the sight than by anything that had happened to her since the castle had fallen.

She struggled to maintain her composure, to meet his gaze even as she stood there, naked and helpless as he looked her over. I won’t cry in front of him, she swore to himself. Mother wouldn’t, and neither will I. No matter what happens, I’m still a Cousland.

“Well, if it isn’t Bryce Cousland’s little spitfire.” He said mockingly. “Not so proud now? Perhaps you’ve finally realised your place isn’t on the field of battle after all?

A real shame about your father, wasn’t it? And your mother, of course. And your brother’s lovely little wife and son-“

“Why?” She finally shouted at him, unable to hold her anger back any more. “Why did you betray them?”

“Because your family were traitors to Ferelden and cowards!” Howe spat back, ranting. “Trips to Orlais, gifts from our enemies! Someone had to act to expose them, someone had to stop them before they sold us all back under the tyrant’s yoke!”

“You won’t get away with this forever.” She said with a confidence she didn’t feel.

“Won’t I?” Howe sneered. “Why not? Regent Loghain understands. He understands what the kingdom needs. There may still be a few troublemakers here and there, a few Arls that keep asking too many questions – but they’ll all be silenced when the news of your father’s treachery comes to light.”

“You? Accuse my father of treachery?” She shouted, almost wanting to laugh at the absurdity.

“Oh, I won’t be making any accusations.” Howe said. “You will.”

Seeing her shocked silence, he smiled thinly. “It’s so simple. All you have to do is confess your father was collaborating with the Orlesian Empress, before a Landsmeet of the nobility, and all this can come to an end. My soldiers will leave Highever, you’ll get your castle back, and you’ll be left in peace forever.”

Peace. Images came to her mind briefly, of Castle Cousland restored, of her taking her father’s place as Teyrn, of quietly rulling over a peaceful Highever, forgotten by the rest of the world. There was an odd power to Howe’s words, and it took all her effort to shake off his influence. She blinked. Howe seemed to ripple for a moment, and for an instant, she thought she could see through him, see something alien sitting in his place…

“Never.” She spat.

“You’ll change your mind in time.” Howe said quietly. “Everyone breaks in the end.

In any case, that’s not why you’re here. I think it’s about time you got reacquainted with your old companion.”

He signalled, and a group of guards entered the hall, carrying a heavy iron cage. Her heart stopped for a moment as she heard the plaintive whining coming from inside. She could see her mabari inside, straining at the bars of a cage far too small for him, muzzled and chained.

“Found it wandering in the woods.” Howe continued. “Tore out a guard’s throat and bit off another’s hand before we were able to restrain it. Would have killed it, but I thought it a shame to waste such a magnificent beast.”

Inside the cage, her dog growled, loudly enough that some of Howe’s men backed away from the cage.

“Bad tempered, isn’t it?” Howe said. “Like all Couslands, I suppose. No sense of self preservation. Tries to bite any of my men when they go near it – damn thing would rather starve to death than let anyone close enough to take the muzzle off to feed it. Unless someone calms it down, there’s not a lot I can do but put it out of its misery.

Of course, a bitch like you should know how to soothe a dog.” He laughed harshly. “I’m sure my guards have taught you enough.”

She saw the bulge growing in his pants as he stared at her, then gestured for her to step over to the cage.

“Show it we’re all friends here.” Howe said, his meaning obvious. “Calm it down. Use your mouth. Show it you’re nothing but a bitch in heat, and I’ll keep the mangy animal alive a little longer.”

Howe had slaughtered her family. He wouldn’t hesitate a moment to kill her dog too if she didn’t cooperate. She ignored the mocking laughter of Howe’s guards as she walked over to the cage, putting aside her humiliation, putting aside her pain, imagining only her mabari ripping them apart when they tried to cage him.

He whined again mournfully as she opened the cage. She knelt down, whispering in his ear, telling him he was a good dog, that he needed to be good, that they were in a lot of danger but he needed to leave everything to her. She heard an impatient grunt from Howe, and trying not to think about what she was doing, she reached down between her dog’s legs, running her hands over the sheath around his cock, still whispering calming words to him.

“It’s alright.” She whispered, seeing the dog’s confused expression as she continued stroking him. “I won’t hurt you.”

Finally, the dog began to respond to her touches, his cock hardening as she touched it. She lay down, almost lying on the floor as she moved closer, closing her eyes as she hesitantly wrapped her mouth around the animal’s cock, trying to ignore the taste of it, trying to ignore everything but the familiar smell of her dog, the reassuring feel of his fur as she gripped tightly to him. It sickened her as she realised she felt better now than she had in weeks, just being beside her mabari enough to make up for being forced to fuck him in front of an audience of her enemies.

She gasped for breath as the dog unexpectedly came to climax, howling as she choked down his seed in her mouth. There was mocking applause from the guards and Howe.

“Stay strong.” She whispered again to the still confused animal. “Don’t let them hurt you, but let them feed you. Wait until I really need you.”

* * *

Over the next few days, the guards took great delight in making her wear a dog collar and bringing stray mongrels into her cell. At night, she lay in a corner, bruised and aching, staring up at the ceiling in horror as she realised the days they made her fuck animals were now the days she looked forward to. At least the dogs aren’t cruel. At least they don’t try to hurt her or humiliate her any further when they mounted her.

She didn’t see her mabari again. The guards laughed at her, saying they’d let her fuck him again if she was good. There was an odd tone in their voice, though, and somehow she felt they were worried when she asked about her dog.

Some nights, just before she drifted off to sleep, she could imagine she could hear him breathing next to her, protecting her in some strange way. She had the strangest sense that somehow she’d won a victory just by seeing her dog again, that now she’d found him once, she could find him again if she only knew how. She couldn’t put it into words, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Howe had made a mistake.

Not Howe, she thought briefly as sleep overwhelmed her. The thing wearing Howe’s face.

If only I knew what all of it meant. If only I had time to concentrate…

* * *

The guards were leaving her alone. She hadn’t seen anyone but the servant who brought in her meals in days. The food had improved too – nothing fancy, but after weeks of rancid meat and stale bread, even the simplest meal seemed like a feast to her. There was an odd aftertaste to some of the food, but she ignored it.

The first day, she’d been on edge, waiting for the inevitable attack, trying to see what trap they were planning for her. Simply giving her a few days peace so it would be all the worse when they took it away from her again? Or something more?

Now, thought, she was simply willing to accept it as a gift. It had been hard to think the last few days anyway. She couldn’t concentrate on anything, content to simply lie back, to sleep in relative peace, to forget all that had happened to her. Sometimes, she could almost imagine she’d always lived in the cell, that there was nothing outside the stone walls, that she’d never been anything but a prisoner.

She stared at a hole in the wall. There was something important about it, she thought briefly, but whatever it was she couldn’t concentrate long enough to remember.

It was growing late, she realised. Her meal should have arrived by now.

She twitched, hunger growing as she waited. This was absurd, a small rational part of her thought. At most, her dinner was a few hours late. After all she’d been through, after all she’d endured, a delay like this should be nothing to her. And yet the hunger was overwhelming her, to the point where she could think of nothing else.

She was itching, desperately trying to concentrate on something other than her growing need. Not food, she was slowly realising, but something else-

If this hunger wasn’t overwhelming me, I could concentrate, she thought dimly. If I could concentrate, I could work out why I’m so hungry.

There was a clank of her cell door being unlocked, and she raced over, moving faster than she had in weeks. It took a few moments for her to register that it wasn’t her food finally arriving, but just a pair of guards. Overwhelmed with disappointment, she fell back to the floor, no longer caring what happened next.

One of the guards laughed harshly, but they didn’t enter. The other just gestured for her to follow them.

“Boss wants to see you.” He said.

* * *

She shivered, trying to focus her thoughts again. Hunger was overwhelming her, it was impossible to concentrate on anything else. She couldn’t even focus enough to feel anger as she saw Howe relaxing on her parent’s bed, or fear as she realised she was alone with him.

“Thirsty?” He asked, pouring them each a glass of wine. Unhesitating, she took it from him, downing it in a single motion. It didn’t help. She was almost dizzy from the hunger.

“Not what you need, is it?” He said. “No, I think this is what you need right now.”

He opened a drawer, pulling out a small vial of bright blue liquid. She stared at it for a moment, and in a brief moment of lucidity she realised what it was.

The strange aftertaste in my food, she thought. Lyrium. Maker’s breath, they’ve been pouring lyrium dust on my food for a week! That’s why I’ve been so tired, why it’s so hard to concentrate. It’s not food I’m craving, it’s-

“Not the method I wanted to use, but time was of the essence.” Howe spoke coldly. “By any standard, you are totally addicted to lyrium. Cost a fortune to get so much, but your family wasn’t doing much with their fortunes right now, so no real problem.

Feel the shakes yet? The hunger? Have the hallucinations started yet, or are we still too early? This is after only a few hours, Cousland whore. Imagine what it would be like to go for days without it. This is your last chance – deal with us, or you go straight back in that prison cell, I’ll tell my guards to stop going easy on you, and you’ll never see a drop of lyrium for the rest of your short pathetic life.”

She shivered again, staring at the blue vial in his hand. Hallucinations, she thought. Yes, they’d started. Already, she felt she could see through Howe, thought she could see through the walls of the castle to a shattered world outside, a great monster staring back at her.

A voice in her head was whispering to her, begging her to look at the monster and not at Howe, trying to make her remember things that hadn’t happened. Turning away in horror, she lowered her head in shame.

“I’ll do whatever you ask.” She whispered. “Please, just let me have the lyrium.”

He moved to hand her the vial, then jerked his hand back at the last moment.

“Then show me what my guards taught you, bitch.” He whispered in slow, heavy tones. “Thank me properly for taking the effort to save you when anyone else would have given up long ago.”

She could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against her, and tears in her eyes, she helped him undress. It was difficult to concentrate through the haze of the lyrium addiction, but she could still feel the pain as he threw her onto the bed – her parent’s bed, she thought through the haze of shame and pain and confusion – and forced his cock inside her, demanding she beg for it as he thrust into her. His cock was enormous, larger than any of the guards, the size of her arm and wider than her wrist, and she could almost imagine she could feel her hips cracking as he pushed into her.

He climaxed inside her, laughing as he did, telling her how her mother had begged for mercy before she died, how he’d forced her father to watch as he killed her, demanding she thank him for eliminating threats to Ferelden. She wanted to scream, to shout, to do something to fight back, some token of defiance, but all she could do was lie there, unable to resist, unable to think any more of anything but the lyrium, of how peaceful she’d feel when he finally gave her her dose.

“I think now you’re nice and cooperative at last, Regent Loghain’s going to be very happy with you.” Howe said, as he finally pulled out of her, his seed spilling out from between her legs. “About time Ferelden had a queen who knew her place.”

She heard the words, but couldn’t concentrate long enough anymore to understand them.

* * *

There were worse ways to live, she thought, as she wrapped her lips around the young elven servant’s cock, licking and sucking until finally he exploded in her mouth. She had her own room, at least, and the Regent had promised he would not expect her to sleep in his bedchamber even after the wedding. Servants dropped off her dose of lyrium each morning. They knew how far she’d go to get the drug, and most of them took advantage of her addiction, but compared to Howe’s dungeons, this seemed almost civilized.

It didn’t matter, anyway. Once she had her dose of the drug, everything else seemed to fade away for a few hours. It was so easy just to forget everything, just to lie back and let things happen as they must. So much easier than trying to think, worrying, trying to make sense of the odd thoughts she had sometimes.

She took the dose, and a pleasant calm feeling fell over her. Not as strong as usual, she thought, puzzled, and then she remembered Loghain had explained it to her the night before. The dose today was weaker, to ensure she remained lucid at the Landsmeet. The pretender to the throne needed to be dealt with, and she needed to give her evidence. Afterwards, Loghain would officially announce their engagement, and after that…

After that, she wouldn’t have to worry about anything again. Loghain would take care of everything.

There was a knock at the door, and she called for the visitor to enter. Queen Anora, she realised, looking at the blonde woman. They’d met a few times, at social events before… before her family’s deaths. This was the first time she’d seen her since she’d been brought here to Denerim. There was an odd look to her. The Anora she remembered had been filled with the same almost arrogant confidence as her father. This woman…

This woman, she realised, seeing the flat look in her eyes and the hints of bruises on her face, this woman looks the way I feel. Defeated. There was a brief surge of angry despair, as she realised there was nobody in the palace that Loghain and Howe had not broken to their will, not even Loghain’s own daughter.

“Are you ready to play your part?” Anora said quietly. She nodded.

“My father is a good man.” Anora said, no expression in her voice, as they walked to the throne room. “I’m sure you’ll be… very happy. He may seem cruel sometimes, but he just wants… he just wants everyone to be happy. At peace.”

They said nothing more to each other as they entered and took their place alongside the other nobles of Ferelden.

* * *

She couldn’t concentrate, as she heard the various nobles make their speeches. None of it was real, she thought, staring at the gilt decorations on the wall. It all seemed so silly. They all had their lines, they all had their parts. It was like a play, but everyone took it so seriously. She felt as if she looked carefully enough, she could see where the walls of the stage didn’t quite join up, and the real world outside could peek through.

Hallucinations, she thought briefly. Lyrium withdrawal.

Dimly, she heard Howe speaking about her family’s treachery, and she realised he had the same voice as Loghain. Howe paused, asking her to confirm his statement. She stared at him. He didn’t seem real either.

I took lyrium this morning, she remembered. A smaller dose, but…

She stared down at the handsome young pretender, at the oddly familiar dark haired woman standing beside him.

I’m not hallucinating, she realised. I’m thinking clearly for the first time in months.

Howe was demanding she speak. She looked at again, and around at the crowd. She could see Loghain looking at her sternly, Anora’s pleading look, the guards around her gesturing obscenely, making it clear what the price of refusing to cooperate would be.

“I repeat. Can you confirm what I’ve just said?” Howe said. “This is very important.”

Distantly, she heard a dog howl, and she stared again at the dark haired woman. The woman looked back at her, an odd flash in her eyes, and she remembered something about her.

Shapeshifter, she thought, and the thought connected as disjointed memories flooded back to her. Heart racing, she turned back to Howe.

“I know who you are.” She whispered. “I know what you are. You can’t fool me any longer. I won’t play this game any longer.”

She concentrated, and the bruises and scars faded from her body. Harnessing her last reserves of strength, she visualised herself as an unstoppable golem, her stone fists tearing down the walls of the throne room, smashing open the nightmare.

“Show yourself, demon.” She said, and a moment later Loghain, Howe, Anora, and the guards that had tormented her for so long faded away, the great form of the Sloth demon stood in their place.
“I don’t understand you.” It said slowly. “You were at peace. You were content. Why do you insist on fighting me again?”

She could feel its influence still in her mind, could feel it trying to rebuild the nightmare world it had created to trap her. She stepped towards it, trying to ignore the images in her head.

- Anora, begging her to submit, the bruises on her body showing the price the queen had paid for her futile moment of defiance-

She stepped forward again.

-She was choking, dying as Loghain forced his cock down her throat and Howe raped her arse, their monstrous cocks tearing her apart-

She was weakening, the nightmare taking control of her again. This was her last chance, she knew. If she fell this time, she’d never escape again.

-Bound and helpless, the Templars violated her over and over. She screamed as another forced himself on her even as another stepped forward with the magical brand that would still her power forever-

That one wasn’t her nightmare, she realised. That was a mage’s nightmare. The demon must have taken it from one of its other victim’s minds.

-She sunk the dagger into her own sister’s flesh, unable to break the blood mage’s control over her body-

It must be weakening, she thought, a flicker of hope. To fall back on someone else’s dreams – she might still have a chance.

The thing was still powerful though, and she couldn’t hold out much longer. The demon was still inside her head. She’d been unable to maintain her golem form, but she still had enough control to imagine herself armoured with a blade in hand as she fought.

The demon was trying to break her, and it was harder and harder to see it for what it was. For a moment, it was Loghain again, then Howe, then a guard advancing on her and she was naked and helpless again-

There was a blur of movement as she faltered, and she saw a burst of light spring forward at the demon. The demon, distracted, turned its attention away from her, and the brief respite was all it took for her to regain control. She watched as the ball of light battled the demon, unsure what this unexpected ally was. She realised it was outmatched, and a moment later it fell, torn apart by the Sloth demon’s strength.

It had given her an opportunity, though – for the first time since she’d entered the Fade, the Sloth demon was not concentrating on her. She could see it for what it really was – a small, pathetic thing that needed the dreams of mortals to live, that it had no imagination of its own, no power but the stolen nightmares it turned against dreamers. She’d faced her dreams, and knew they had no power over her any more.

With a charge, she drew her sword, sinking it deep in the demon’s flesh. With a scream, the demon turned back to her, making one last attempt to ensnare her in a nightmare-

* * *

She opened her eyes slowly. She felt weak, hungry and tired, but she was alive. She was back in the tower of mages.

“Praise the Maker, you’re alive!” She heard Greagoir speak as she pulled herself upright.

“How… how long?” She whispered.

“Almost three days since you entered the tower.” He said. She blinked. Only three days? It felt like… years. “We were about to give up hope. Very rare for anyone to survive being trapped in the Fade that long.”

“Wynne?” She asked, looking around for her companions. Greagoir was silent for a moment, and her heart began to sink.

“When you did not return, we were forced to carry out the Rite of Annulment.” He said finally.

Morrigan is dead too, then, she realised. And-

She saw the furry body on the other side of the room. Almost crawling, she moved over, tears flowing freely as she ran her hands over her mabari’s cold body.

“I’m sorry.” Greagoir said. “Your dog… he was still alive when we made it to this floor, but… his soul must have become trapped in the Fade.”

She wept openly, and dimly she began to realise the dog’s soul must have been the ball of light that had sacrificed itself so she could escape.

“You’re a good dog.” She whispered, running her hands over his fur for the last time. “The best doggie there ever was.”

She forced herself away from the body, pulling herself to her feet, a Templar helping to hold her steady as she shook, her body weak from days without food. She swallowed, dimly aware she was alone again in a room full of armed guards-

That was the nightmare, she tried to convince herself. None of that happened. You escaped Howe’s men, and someday he’ll pay.

“I am truly sorry for your companions.” Greagoir was saying. “I only wish the Arl’s men had arrived earlier – we might have had a chance to save some of the mages. As it was – the abominations and demons had overrun the tower when we broke through. We had no choice but to perform the Rite.”

“The Arl?” She frowned, a brief feeling of hope breaking through the grief she felt. “The Arl of Redcliffe sent troops?”

“The Arl of Amaranthine.” Greagoir replied, and it took a moment for the words to penetrate. “He came here personally a day ago with a small cohort of his personal guard. He’s waiting downstairs. I’m sure he’ll be very happy to see a survivor.”

She was too weak to react, too horrified to do anything but follow as the Templars escorted her downstairs, where Arl Howe was waiting.

As she was taken through the cold grey stone halls of the Tower, she had only one coherent thought: That she might never really know if she’d actually escaped the Sloth demon.