The next morning, the Spoiled Princess found their main room crowded with quite a variety of travelers, all attempting to squeeze next to each other over one table.

“Where are we going next?” Alistair asked.

Kitranna spread out the map.

“We could go to Orzammar,” she suggested.

“We'd have to go through the Frostbacks,” Fiona pointed out. “If we went to Redcliffe, we'd just have to cross Calenhad.”

“And Arl Eamon knows us,” Alistair pointed out. “The dwarves don't.”

“We're going to have to talk to them sooner or later,” Kitranna pointed out.

“Yes, but going to Redcliffe would be faster,” Wynne said quietly. “Whether from Redcliffe or Calenhad, it takes roughly the same amount of time to go to the gates of Orzammar, I believe. And if your errand there would take less time...”

Kitranna nodded. “Then we should go there first.”

“Will the Frostbacks not be more difficult to traverse the longer we wait?" Zevran asked.

“The roads to the gates of Orzammar are well-traveled,” Fiona said. “The dwarves are adept at keeping the passes open—they need to, in order to continue surface trade. If we were going to Orlais, I'd be worried, but the gates to Orzammar lie on the Ferelden side.”

“That is true,” Leliana said with a nod. “And considering Loghain's actions, I would say that it is vital we reach Redcliffe as soon as possible, now that we have the allies to stand with us.”

“The Circle and the Templars will both be a great aid to your cause,” Wynne said. “But I agree, I do not think we should wait.”

“So we'll go to Redcliffe,” Kitranna said with a sharp nod.

They could make their way to Redcliffe by either skirting the coast of Lake Calenhad, which would take a week or more, or take a day and cross the lake on a boat. The only problem with that plan was the size of their party and how heavy Shale was, but after some clever bargaining, they managed to acquire a boat that supported everyone's weight. No one was exactly comfortable, but they managed.

Morrigan came to Kitranna a few hours into their journey, a black book in her hand. She pulled Kitranna to the furthest corner of the little boat, both of them facing away from the others.

“What's this?” Kitranna said, glancing at it.

“I found it in the First Enchanter's office,” Morrigan said, passing the book to her. “It claims to be Flemeth's Grimoire.”

“Your mother's Grimoire?” Kitranna said, looking down at the book.

Morrigan nodded. “Yes, it is hers,” she said. She paused.

“What's the matter?”

“'Tis...not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“A collection of her spells,” Morrigan bit her lip.

Kitranna frowned. “What's wrong? You look...upset.”

Morrigan gave a sharp laugh. “Upset? Upset is not a sufficient term.” Morrigan sighed and ran a hand over her forehead. “My mother...” she started, paused, and began again. “My mother is very old. You know this, yes?”

“Yeah...?”

“I have learned that she is—much older than you would believe,” Morrigan said. “She has—she has mastered a kind of immortality.”

Kitranna stared at her.

“It is not true immortality,” Morrigan assured her. “But it has kept her alive all these centuries, And she has outlined in great detail how she has achieved it, here, in her book.” she tapped the cover of the book.

“So how'd she do it?”

Morrigan looked out over the water. “Flemeth has had many daughters over the years,” she said. “There are stories of many witches of the Wilds, out of Chasind legend, yet I had never seen a one. I always wondered why not...and now I know. They are all Flemeth.”

“They're all—the same person? Flemeth, in different shapes?”

Morrigan nodded. “When her body becomes old and wizened, she raises a daughter. And when the time is right, she takes the daughter's body for her own!”

Kitranna was silent, not quite sure what to say. “That's horrible,” she managed.

“You can imagine how I feel about it.”

Kitranna furrowed her brow. “Why did she send you away if she needs your body?” she asked.

Morrigan shook her head. “She has plans of her own,” she said. “I could not say what her wishes are, nor do I want to know.”

“So What are we going to do about this?”

Morrigan glanced at her. “'We?'”

Kitranna blinked. “Yeah, 'we'.”

Morrigan paused. “Well, there is only one possible response to this. Flemeth needs to die.” her lip curled. “I will not sit idly by like an empty sack waiting to be filled.”

“I'll help,” Kitranna assured her.

“I...did not realize you would take to the idea so quickly.”

“Should I not help?”

Morrigan ducked her head, hiding a smile. “You must return to Flemeth's hut without me,” she said. “If I am there when she is slain, she may take my body, or at least make an attempt.”

Kitranna scratched her neck. “I'm not sure when we could do that,” she said. “That would set us back weeks...the Korcari Wilds aren't close.” she sighed and shook her head. “But it's not like we can just...let her do what she wants, and try to steal your body.” she bit her fingernails. “I'm sure there's a way to do it,” she assured Morrigan. “But we need to talk to the others about it.”

Morrigan nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “The sooner we do this, the sooner my mind will be at ease.”

Kitranna hesitated, then reached out and patted Morrigan's shoulder before snatching her hand away again. “We'll do it,” she said. “Trust me.”

Their boat came to rest on an embankment a little ways off from Redcliffe proper, but they could see it in the distance. They began to make their way towards it, when Alistair pulled Kitranna aside.

“There's something I need to tell you,” he said.

“What is it?” Kitranna asked slowly. She noticed Fiona eying them, but when their eyes met, Fiona looked away.

“You know how I was raised by Arl Eamon?”

“Yeah...”

“Well, the reason he did that is--My mother is--” Alistair paused and took a breath. “She was—a—well, I never knew her,” he said quickly. “But my father was King Maric.”

Kitranna let out a breath. “Oh.”

Alistair raised his eyebrows. “'Oh?'”

“That sounds like something you should've told me sooner.”

“How was I supposed to?” Alistair asked. “Say, 'By the way, I'm the bastard son of King Maric?'”

“Good point,” Kitranna rubbed her face. “Does this make you the heir to the throne?”

“Maker, I hope not,” Alistair grimaced. “No, it was made very clear to me early on that there was no room for me raising rebellions or some other nonsense. If anyone has a claim to the throne, it's Arl Eamon. He's not of royal blood, but he is popular with the people—anyway, that's what I had to tell you.”

“Why?” Kitranna asked.

“So in case it gets brought up later, you're not surprised,” Alistair said.

“Who'd bring it up?”

Alistair shrugged. “With Cailan dead, and Loghain...well, it might come up. Just so you know.”

“Well...thanks.” Kitranna said, and forged on ahead. Alistair hung back, to stand by Fiona.

“Will Eamon know you?” Alistair muttered to Fiona.

She shook her head. “Only Duncan and Maric knew,” she said. “Loghain might. Some of the other Wardens know I had a child, but...”

“You never told them.”

“No.”

“And Maric told Eamon that my mother was a servingwoman.”

Fiona nodded.

“A human servingwoman.”

“Better that than an elvhen mage,” Fiona said, her voice suddenly bitter.

“I don't know,” Alistair said. “I mean, I probably would have gotten sent to the monastery no matter who they thought my mother was.”

Fiona narrowed her eyes. “They sent you to be a Templar, yes?”

“Yeah...” Alistair rubbed the back of his head. “Kind of tasteless, now that I think about it.”

She shook her head. “There are many Templars who are the nonmagical children of mages,” she said with a sigh. “They do not want the children to be with their parents, so they must do something with them.”

“Only the humans or elf-blooded ones, though,” Alistair said, a tinge of bitterness entering his own voice. “Never seen any full-elf or Vashoth-blooded ones. Well, the vashoth-blooded one makes sense—there aren't many of those in the south, are there?”

“Not really,” Fiona said. She reached up and patted Alistair's shoulder for just a second before she retracted her hand. “Come,” she said. “We shouldn't be speaking of these things here.”

They crossed the cliffs that stood over Redcliffe village, to look down over the town.

“Is that...something smoking?” Zevran asked, narrowing his eyes at it.

“I can't see,” Leliana said.

“This...doesn't look good,” Alistair muttered. “Something was definitely on fire down there.”

“I hope the Darkspawn have not arrived there already,” Wynne said, biting her lip.

“Look,” Kitranna pointed. Up the path, there was a man coming to greet them.

He came closer to them, and they saw he was a blond human man in tattered clothes. One of his sleeves was scorched and he smelled strongly of rot and ashes. “I thought I saw travelers coming down the road, though I could scarcely believe it,” he was out of breath and he braced his hands on his knees, panting. “Have you come to help us?”

“Ah, so something bad is happening,” Zevran nodded as if this confirmed a suspicion he had long held.

“Of course,” Morrigan sighed and folded her arms. She tugged her hood over her head and looked away, bored.

“Help you with what?” Kitranna asked.

The man got his breath back and looked over their group, his eyes narrowing as he looked from Shale, to Zevran, to the staffs held by the mages.

“You...you don't know?” he said, straightening. “Has nobody out there heard?”

“We've been on an errand in the Circle of Magi,” Wynne said quickly. “There is not much news to be had.”

“The Circle!” the man's eyes lit up. “Then—perhaps you could tell us what has been happening!”

“We can't help if you don't explain,” Kitranna said. “We'd heard that Eamon was sick, but that was months ago--”

The man shook his head. “He could be dead for all we know!” he exclaimed, and Alistair went pale. “No one's heard from the castle in days! We're under attack—monsters come out every night, and attack us until dawn.” he closed his eyes. “Everyone's been fighting...and dying.”

“Apparently everyone seems to agree that a Blight is the perfect time to start killing each other,” Morrigan sighed. “Marvelous, really.” Zevran smirked, but Leliana scowled and elbowed Morrigan in the side. Morrigan elbowed her right back, but didn't continue her comments.

“Monsters?' Alistair said. “Darkspawn?”

The man shook his head. “No—no, these are different,” he brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. “We've no army to defend us, no arl to send for help—so many are dead...”

“But what is it exactly?” Kitranna asked. “If it's not darkspawn--”

“I don't know,” he said. “I'm sorry, nobody does.” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should take you to Bann Teagan,” he said.

Alistair and Fiona both looked up. “Bann Teagan?” Alistair said. “Arl Eamon's brother? He's here?”

The messenger nodded. “Yes, and he'll want to see you,” he said. “Come with me, I'll take you to him.”

The messenger brought them down the cliffs and into the main town. There was a lingering smell of smoke, and there was at least one building still smoldering. There were makeshift walls around the town, but they had been mostly torn down, and no one had yet repaired them.

The messenger brought them to the Chantry, which was surrounded by semi-standing fortifications. The Chantry had sustained some damage but fortunately its walls still held.

Inside was the remains of the village. Old men, women, children—a few younger fighters, but many injured. They were all human, no dwarves, elves, or vashothari among them at all. A lack of any mage staffs indicated there were no Circle mages there, but it was possible there might have been an apostate. If there was, however, they weren't showing themselves.

Wynne pursed her lips as she looked over the makeshift infirmary.

“If you'll excuse me,” she muttered into Kitranna's ear. “I need to lend some aid to whoever is in charge of overseeing the wounded.”

Kitranna nodded. “We'll let you know what happens,” she said. Fiona looked momentarily torn, but didn't join Wynne.

Bann Teagan was a middle-aged human man with dark hair and a beard. He turned to them, a curious expression on his face as he surveyed the group.

“It's...Tomas, yes?” he said, addressing the messenger. “Who are these people with you? It's clear they are not simple travelers.”

“No, my lord,” Tomas shook his head. “They've just arrived, and I thought you would want to see them.”

“Thank you, Tomas,” Teagan focused his attention back on the group. “I am Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, and brother to the Arl.”

“I remember you, Bann Teagan,” Alistair stepped to the forefront of the group (Fiona right at his back). “Though the last time we met, I was a lot younger and...covered in mud...”

Teagan looked confused for a minute, then his face lit with recognition. “Alistair? You're alive? This is wonderful news!”

“Still alive, yes, though not for long if Teryn Loghain has anything to say about it,” Alistair said, his expression grim.

“Indeed,” Teagan said. “Loghain would have us believe that all Ferelden Gray Wardens died along with Cailan, among other things.”

Fiona scowled.

“So, what's been going on here?” Kitranna asked quickly. “We heard about monsters...?”

Teagan glanced at her. “Are you a Warden as well?” he asked.

“Me, and Fiona too,” Kitranna gestured at the smaller woman. “But us and Alistair are the only three.” She narrowed her eyes. “You don't believe what Loghain has been saying?”

“What, that he pulled his men out in order to save them?” Teagan scoffed. “That Cailan risked everything in the name of glory? Hardly.”

Fiona scowled and shook her head, glaring at the ground.

“Loghain calls you Wardens traitors, murderers of the king,” Teagan continued. “I don't believe it. It is an act of a desperate man.”

“Right, right—but the monsters?” Kitranna insisted. “That sounds like an issue.”

Teagan began to pace. “The attacks started a few nights ago,” he said. 'Evil...things...surged from the castle. We drove them back but many people perished during the assault.”

“And in all this time, no one's come from the castle to explain what is happening?” Kitranna asked.

Teagan shook his head. “No, they have not. No one patrols the walls of the castle, and no one has responded to any calls. Any messengers we send do not return.”

“It seems that our goal would be the castle, then,” Morrigan said. “Whatever is afflicting these villagers comes from in there.”

Kitranna nodded. “Is there a way to get us to the castle?' she asked.

“Wait,” Leliana said. “We still do not know what these monsters are, exactly. Are they abominations, demons?”

“Some call them the walking dead,” Teagan explained. “Corpses returned from the grave with a taste for the flesh of the living. Each night they come in greater numbers.”

“Necromancy...” Morrigan muttered. “If there is someone casting a spell—a demon or a mage—then it is vital we find the caster and slay them. Then all of this nonsense will stop, and your villagers will no longer be fighting an endless battle.”

Teagan looked at her. “You know this magic?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes.

“It is not my particular area of study,” Morrigan said, tilting her head up. “But if it is not necromancy you are describing, I have no other answers for you.”

“If we are to go to the castle, we must do it soon,” Zevran said, glancing out the windows. “The sun is setting.”

Teagan pursed his lips. “There is no easy way to the castle by night,” he said after a moment of thought. “I am sorry—if you are to get there, you must help us fight off the attackers until morning.”

Kitranna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Morrigan, do you know any countermeasures for necromancy?”

“Some...” Morrigan said slowly. “There are some runes that may help—I will cast them upon the doors and windows. At the very least one building shall perhaps stand when this is over.”

Kitranna nodded. “Good. Do that.”

Morrigan's expression tightened and she scowled. “If I must...”

Kitranna looked back at Teagan. “We'll help against the monsters,” she promised. “And then we'll help Arl Eamon, if we can.”

So they worked with Teagan and the villagers to help fortify the town against the coming monsters. They had perhaps an hour till sunset, so they had to work quickly. Alistair, Shale and Fiona helped with the barricades at the edge of town, while Morrigan set to work putting protection runes on the doors and windows of the Chantry.

Wynne had set herself up in the infirmary. She had also acquired the surprising help of Zevran, who knew a thing or two about poisons. Apparently the wounds inflicted by the monsters were frequently poisonous, and Zevran more often than not knew how to treat those kinds of injuries. Leliana helped to keep the villagers calm and gathered bolts for her crossbow, and Kitranna waited with Teagan at the main gate.

The sun set, and night fell over the town. Alistair, Shale, Morrigan and Fiona came to join them at the main gate, while Wynne, Leliana and Zevran stayed in the town.

The sounds came first, sounds of crunching bone and something dragging itself over rock. Everyone tensed.

Then the things came out of the darkness—a horde of shambling corpses that smelled like rot and death, which swung their weapons aimlessly but did not stop until they were completely destroyed.

Fire helped to destroy them. Morrigan, Kitranna and Fiona were all very helpful in that regard.

The fight was grueling, the onslaughts only stopping for a few minutes at a time. At one point in the evening, one of the archers was unfortunate enough to get gored with a sword, and when he fell, he rose a few minutes later as another corpse. Kitranna and Morrigan both set fire to him with extreme prejudice.

Finally, however, after hours and hours of fighting, the dawn began to rise, the sky turning from black to faint gray. The sun rose, bloody and red, and the corpses retreated.

Kitranna and her group went back to the Chantry, to redress their wounds and consider what to do next.

Teagan addressed the villagers, then thanked Kitranna and her people for their help.

“Truly the Maker smiled upon us when he sent you here, my good lady,” he told her.

“Sure,” Kitranna said. “The castle, now? We can't fix your problem until we find the necromancer responsible.”

“Of course,” Teagan nodded. “We have no time to waste.”

He brought them to the mill that was on one of the cliffs above Redcliffe.

“There is a secret passage here, in the mill,” Teagan explained. “Accessible only to my family.”

Kitranna frowned and looked at her companions. “You could have told us this before,” she said. “We could have entered the castle earlier—gotten to the necromancer hours ago!”

“We needed warriors--”

“If we had killed the necromancer, you would not have needed us here,” Fiona snapped. “You have wasted precious time!”

“I'm sorry if I—Maker's breath!” Teagan stared over Kitranna's shoulder, and they all looked around to see a blonde human woman in a long dress hurrying towards them.

“Teagan!” she exclaimed in a thick Orlesian accent. “Thank the Maker you yet live!”

“Isolde!” Teagan gasped. “How did you—you're alive! What has happened?”

“I do not have much time to explain,” Isolde said. “I slipped away from the castle as soon as I was able, and I must return quickly--”

“Who is this?” Kitranna said, stepping forward.

The woman looked down her nose at Kitranna, glancing at her and the rest of the group as if only just noticing them for the first time. “Teagan, who is this woman?”

“You remember me, Lady Isolde, don't you?” Alistair said with a sigh.

Isolde narrowed her eyes at him. “Alistair—of all the...why are you here?”

Fiona scowled, and Teagan explained “They are Gray Wardens, Isolde—I owe them my life.”

Isolde opened her mouth, but Kitranna cut her off. “Speaking of that—we still need to get into the castle,” she said. “You're wasting our time, and we're losing daylight. We need to get inside and deal with that necromancer, now.”

“Necromancer?” Isolde exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest.

“There are a very limited number of people who have the ability to make the dead rise again,” Morrigan said, a smirk in her voice. “A necromancer is among them.”

“No—no, you cannot go to the castle!” Isolde said. “I need Teagan to come back with me alone--”

“Lady Isolde, we didn't even know anyone was alive in the castle,” Alistair said. “It would help if we could get an explanation..?”

“I...I do not know what is safe to tell,” Isolde said, wringing her hands. “Teagan—it is Connor—I...you are his uncle, you could reason with him--!”

“Isolde, what are you talking about?” Teagan said. “What could Connor have to do with this?”

“Something...something the mage unleashed,” Isolde said, a scowl twisting her lips. “So far it allows Eamon, Connor and myself to live. The others were not so fortunate...it killed so many, turned their bodies into walking nightmares...”

“Abomination?” Kitranna suggested, glancing at her companions.

“Or a necromancer masquerading as an abomination,” Morrigan said. “To trick gullible nobles into doing what they wanted.”

“Or a necromancer who is possessed,” Wynne said softly.

“You mentioned a mage,” Kitranna said. “What mage? Was someone from the Circle appointed to your household?”

Isolde wrung her hands again and shook her head. “He is an—infiltrator, I think,” she said. “One of the castle staff. He was poisoning my husband—that is why Eamon fell ill.”

“Eamon was poisoned?” Teagan exclaimed, and Alistair went pale.

“He claims an agent of Teryn Loghain's hired him,” Isolde said, a twist to her mouth.

“Why did he unleash the thing he did?” Kitranna asked. “How?”

“I do not know the workings of magic!” Isolde exclaimed. “Please, I came here for help--Teagan, please—I do not have much time! What if it thinks I am betraying it? It could kill Connor!” she let out a sob.

“Don't,” Kitranna said, putting a hand on Teagan's arm. “This is pretty clearly a trap.”

“How dare you?” Isolde exclaimed, her Orlesian accent coming through even thicker. “I am attempting to save my household and--”

“Isolde, please,” Teagan said. “Warden, I trust Isolde—she would not lead me into a trap.”

“No, no,” Zevran piped up. “This certainly seems like a trap. Weeping woman, a child in danger, stories of demons and magic, a request to come alone? Quite clearly a trap.”

Isolde turned on Kitranna's group. “This is no trap! I am trying to save my son!”

“Be that as it may, your request is both suspicious and dangerous,” Fiona said, her eyes narrowed. “How is one non-mage supposed to help when you either have a rogue mage or a demon stalking your halls?”

“I will return with you, Isolde,” Teagan said, speaking over Fiona.

“Oh, Maker bless you!” Isolde said, wringing her hands.

“Teagan--” Kitranna said.

“I have no illusions of besting this demon alone,” Teagan said. “But you and your companions have proven quite formidable, Warden.”

“Teagan, you must come alone!” Isolde protested.

“I will,” Teagan promised her. “But I will not go in without a plan. Isolde, we must confer in private for a moment—meet me by the bridge.”

Isolde pursed her lips. “Do not take too long, Teagan,” she said. “Please.” she left, then, and Teagan turned to Kitranna.

“Here's what I propose,” he said. “I go in with Isolde, and you enter the castle using the secret passage.”

“Are you sure this—demon, or whatever it is, won't know where the passage is?” Alistair said.

“Even if it does, us going in is better than Teagan going in alone,” Kitranna said.

Teagan nodded. “My thoughts exactly. You can only take a few people with you,” Teagan said. “I think they would notice if your entire group were to be going through the dungeons.”

Kitranna rubbed her face. “What do we do inside?” she asked.

“I wish I knew,” Teagan said with a sigh. “I know as little of this evil as Isolde seems to—as mages, you may know more already. If you can get to the gates, you can open them to my men, and perhaps they can aid you. Remember—Eamon is the priority here. If you have to, just get him out of there. Me, Isolde, anyone else—we're expendable. Eamon isn't.”

“We'll do our best,” Kitranna said.

Teagan handed Kitranna his signet ring, which would open the entrance to the secret passage.

“Alright,” Kitranna turned to her group. “Who should come with? Morrigan, you know the most about necromancy—come on.”

“I'll come too,” Alistair said firmly.

“Alistair--” Fiona started, then paused. “Be careful,” she said.

“I will come as well,” Zevran said. “I probably have more experience sneaking around dark, disgusting places than any of you.”

“Probably true,” Kitranna agreed. “Alright—the rest of you, go to the gates with Teagan's men. We'll see if we can let you in. Or maybe you should try battering the gates open yourselves—that might be helpful.”

“We'll do what we can,” Fiona said.

Kitranna, Zevran, Morrigan and Alistair headed into the mill, to find the secret passage. They quickly did so, and headed down the tunnel to the castle.

They found themselves in a dark, dank dungeon that smelled very strongly of rot and dead flesh.

They proceeded forward with care, and eventually they came across three more of the corpses that had attacked the village the previous night. Some fire dispatched them easily enough—their bodies were dry and easily flammable, and they had no reinforcements to back them up.

“Hello? Who's there? Is there anyone alive out there?” came a very familiar voice from one of the cells.

“Jowan?” Kitranna exclaimed, approaching the cell.

Inside the cell was indeed Jowan, looking pale and thin, his cheeks sunken, his hair greasy and longer than it had been when Kitranna had seen him last. “Kitranna?” he wrapped a hand around one of the bars. There were tiny cuts all over his knuckles “When did you—how did—you cut your hair.”

“How is that the first thing you notice?” Kitranna demanded. “Zevran, can you get this lock?”

“Wait,” Alistair said. “Who is this?”

“This is Jowan,” Kitranna said. “He's from the Tower--”

“A mage? Didn't Isolde say it was a mage who poisoned the Arl and unleashed the demon or...whatever it is?”

“I didn't do that!” Jowan exclaimed. “I mean I—well, I did poison Eamon, but--”

“You poisoned Eamon?” Kitranna exclaimed. “Why?”

“Teryn Loghain wanted me to—otherwise they'd have turned me in to the Templars!” Jowan said.

Kitranna nodded. “Ah—that makes sense. Alright, Zevran, let him out.”

“You're seriously going to do that?” Alistair grabbed Zevran's arm, and Zevran frowned and shook him off.

“Yes—if Surana wishes him to be freed, he'll be freed. What's a bit of poisoning between friends, anyhow?” Zevran went to work on the lock.

“He just admitted to poisoning the Arl--” Alistair said again.

“So he wouldn't get caught by the Templars,” Kitranna said, emphasizing her words as if it were obvious.

“And I didn't summon the demon,” Jowan said.

“It is a demon, then?” Morrigan said.

Jowan nodded. “I think so—a nasty one, too. I don't know who summoned it—the only other mage here is Connor, but--”

“Connor? Isolde's son?” Kitranna asked. “He's a mage?”

Zevran finished with the lock and the door to the cell swung open, letting Jowan out. Jowan stumbled a bit, his legs unsteady, and Kitranna caught him and helped him to stand upright.

Jowan nodded. “Yes—she didn't want him to go to the Circle, so Isolde set about looking for apostates to train him.”

“And she found you,” Morrigan said.

Jowan rubbed the back of his head. “She found me.” he looked around at all of them. “How did you get here?” he asked Kitranna. “What happened after I—after I left?” he looked Kitranna up and down. “You're wearing armor—where did you even get armor?”

“Got recruited into the Wardens,” Kitranna said. “And I got my armor from an armorer, the place where you usually get armor. Oh—this is Zevran, Morrigan, and Alistair, by the way,” she said, gesturing to her companions.

“How did you get into the castle?”

“Secret passage,” Kitranna said, pointing down the way they had come.

“There's a secret passage?” Jowan exclaimed. “How has no one used that yet? We could all have escaped by now!”

“The Bann said that it was known only to his family,” Morrigan said. “I suppose that meant blood family, and he did not feel inclined to share this secret with anyone else.”

“Oh.” Jowan looked crestfallen.

“So, what's happened?” Kitranna asked. “Someone summoned something, and the only other mage here is Connor.”

Jowan nodded. “But he can barely cast anything at all—he's only a child, he doesn't know much, let alone summon something that large!" he sighed and closed his yes. "Well--he shouldn't be able to...but he's pretty well-connected to the Fade. I think he's a spirit healer, but I don't know for sure..."

"So did he summon it or not?"

Jowan shrugged helplessly. "Probably, but I really don't know. I've been stuck down here, mostly—I don't know too much of what's been going on. I can feel it, though.”

Kitranna nodded. “The Veil's had a great hole punched in it,” she agreed.

“There was a weakness in the Veil before the demon was summoned," Jowan said. “I tried to fix it, but I just didn't know how! Blood magic helped a little--”

“Blood magic?” Alistair half-shouted. “He's a blood mage, too?”

Jowan went so pale he turned almost gray.

“Don't worry about it, Alistair,” Kitranna said.

“Don't worry about it?”

“How accomplished a blood mage are you?” Morrigan said. “Have you learned much outside of the Circle?”

“Why d'you want to know?” Kitranna asked.

“Blood magic can be used to cleanse and banish demons,” Morrigan explained. “If applied correctly, that is.”

Jowan shook his head. “I didn't know that,” he said. “I just know some healing and defense—I've been trying to stop using it.”

“Throwing away a tool where it may be most useful,” Morrigan sighed. “One can certainly tell you came from the Circle of Magi.”

Kitranna began to pace. “We have to keep going,” she said. “There's no way Teagan's gonna be able to deal with the demon himself—especially not if it's possessing his nephew.”

“And we should deal with this before sun sets again, and more of the undead attack the village,” Zevran said.

“Hang on, what about him?” Alistair said, gesturing to Jowan.

“He's coming with us,” Kitranna said.

“What?”

“He's my friend, and he's coming with us,” Kitranna repeated. “The only thing he did wrong was poison Eamon—and it sounds like Eamon's still alive, so, no harm, no foul.”

“Um—Kitranna--” Jowan started.

“Hush, I'm defending you.”

“He's a blood mage who poisoned Eamon!” Alistair said.

“So it is better to imprison or slay him for his choices?” Morrigan said. “You yourself have killed many people—why should he be punished merely for doing what his lord asked him to do?”

“Loghain isn't anyone's lord!”

“As far as the Circles are concerned, he is,” Morrigan said, folding her arms.

Alistair gestured helplessly. “He's—a—blood mage!”

“We've gone over that,” Kitranna said. “We can argue about it later—right now, we need to deal with that demon.”

“But we can't--”

“We can and I am,” Kitranna snapped. “He's my friend, and he's coming with us.”

Alistair rubbed his forehead. “I suppose this...is an unusual situation...” he said, gritting his teeth.

“That's right. Come on.”

They made their way through the dungeons (Kitranna giving Jowan her spare staff so he had something to defend himself with), which were filled with a multitude of walking corpses. The further they got into the castle, the more obvious the damage to the Veil became.

“There hardly needs to be a demon here,” Morrigan commented at one point. “The Veil is almost in shreds—I would not be surprised if spirits merely started possessing the bodies of the dead by accident.”

“That can happen?” Alistair exclaimed.

“In places where the Veil is thin or damaged, yes, the dead may rise on their own,” Morrigan said with a long-suffering sigh. “More often there are ghosts, or it is a demon influencing the dead and not them becoming mobile on their own, but yes, it can happen.”

Alistair shuddered.

“It wasn't so bad in the dungeons,” Jowan said quietly. 'The damage to the Veil, I mean—the dungeons themselves were pretty bad.”

Kitranna glanced at Jowan, his sunken cheeks and eyes, the way his robe was filthy and tattered. He had a cut on his chin and his knuckles were bloody and bruised. “What happened to you?”

“The Arlessa locked me in when they found out I'd poisoned Eamon,” Jowan said. “Then they came storming down here, demanding that I reverse what I'd done—I didn't know what she was talking about, I could feel the Veil get worse but I didn't know what was happening--!” he paused. “We should—we should just keep going,” he said.

The castle was empty, except for the dead. Any person that had fallen, it seemed, was liable to get up and start walking again, only this time with an insatiable desire for flesh. The damage to the Veil became worse and worse, and among the corpses, there started appearing lights and misty shapes—clear signs of ghosts and spirits. The entire world seemed to grow hazy and unclear, like the Fade had been in the Tower.

They did come across a few living survivors, in the levels of the castle above the dungeons. They instructed any survivors they found to go down into the dungeons and back to Redcliffe via the secret passage.

“They shall need to make an entirely new secret passage now,” Zevran remarked, after they sent the third survivor away.

“As long as the people are out of our way,” Kitranna said.

“And safe,” Alistair added.

“Yeah, that too.”

They decided to open the front gates to the soldiers and the rest of Kitranna's people before trying to take on the demon. They edged around the front hall, where everyone could feel something very strong and very unpleasant lurking, to head out front.

They had to deal with several walking corpses, but Zevran and Jowan managed to get the gates open while Kitranna, Alistair and Morrigan fought the corpses off.

Fiona came through first, accompanied by several Redcliffe men and the rest of Kitranna's party.

“My word,” Wynne muttered, going pale as soon as she set foot onto the castle grounds. “The damage to the Veil here--”

“Very nasty,” Kitranna agreed. “We think the thing's a demon, not a necromancer. The damage is bad enough that there's ghosts and probably other spirits and demons wandering around too, but it's the big one that's the problem.”

“We must deal with it at once,” Fiona said. “Did you encounter Teagan again?”

Kitranna shook her head. “No—we haven't searched the whole of the castle, but there's definitely something bad in the front hall. We wanted to get reinforcements first.”

Fiona nodded. “Let us go then, and quickly.”

In the front hall was where they found Teagan and Isolde. Unfortunately, Connor was there too, and his presence overshadowed everything else.

The boy looked like a boy—but there was an undeniable wrongness about him. The damage to the Veil clearly originated from him. About his person, the Veil was torn and sundered, as if he brought the Fade into the waking world merely by being there.

As they approached, Connor said “So these are our visitors, Mother,” Connor's voice was not that of a child.

Isolde's shoulders were slumped. “Yes, Connor.”

Connor peered at Kitranna, his head tilting to one side. His face was pale and soot-stained, his red hair making his skin look white as paper “And this is the one who defeated my soldiers,” Connor's voice rumbled, as if something were talking underneath him. “The one who defended my village.”

“Yes,” Isolde whispered.

“And now it stares at me,” Connor's eyes gleamed in the darkness of the half-lit hall. “What is it, Mother? I cannot see it. I smell old blood and magic, but I see nothing.”

“This is—she is an elf,” Isolde said.

Connor tilted his head back with a smirk. “Ahh,” it said. “I know of elves. There are many elvhen servants here, all smelling like blood and death—but this one stands, breathing and not dying.”

“I don't really like dying,” Kitranna said. “Not a big fan.”

“Hm,” Connor growled. “I'd change that if I could.”

“What a charming fellow your son is,” Kitranna told Isolde.

“Please, don't hurt him,” Isolde said, holding out her hands imploringly.

“No one said anything about that,” Fiona said.

“M-mother?” Connor spoke up again, only this time the rumbling note was abruptly gone from Connor's voice, and it returned to that of a normal child. “Where am I? What's happening?”

“Oh, thank the Maker!” Isolde took Connor's face in her hands. “Connor, can you hear me?”

There was a crack, and with a cry, Isolde was flung across the room. One of the Redcliffe soldiers hurried to her side to help her.

“Do not presume, fool woman!” Connor snapped. “You are beginning to bore me!”

“Well, isn't that something,” Kitranna said over Isolde's horrorstricken sobs, her voice acid. “Demons bore me really quickly.”

“Don't say that!” Isolde cried, getting to her feet. “He is not responsible for what he does!”

“Of course he's not,” Kitranna snapped. “Because he's possessed by a demon.”

“Connor didn't mean to do it!” Isolde said. “It was that mage who summoned it--” she sucked in a gasp, her gaze alighting upon Jowan. “Him!” she screeched, pointing.

“I didn't!” Jowan protested. “I couldn't!”

“He didn't,” Connor confirmed. “Filthy blood mage—as if his kind could speak to the likes of me.”

A rumble went through the soldiers at the mention of blood magic, but Kitranna threw a glare over her shoulder, and no one moved.

Connor peered at her, curious. “This elf shall have the audience she seeks,” he decided. “What have you come here for?”

“I came to get rid of you,” Kitranna said. “I don't really like demons, and I especially don't like them taking advantage of kids.”

“It was a fair deal!”

“I don't care how fair the deal was or not, it's not your body, and you don't belong here.”

Connor growled again, and there was a feeling of pressure in the room, as if a storm were gathering.

“Of course I belong here,” he rumbled. “Can't you see? Haven't you felt the Veil collapsing? No one tells me what to do, least of all elves who stink of blood!”

“The only reason the Veil's damaged here is because of you,” Kitranna said, pointing her staff at Connor.

Connor laughed. “Blind idiots, all of you!” he shouted. They felt the Veil twist around them. “But you won't order me!”

Connor bolted, and they were suddenly set upon by the remaining guards of the castle and Teagan himself. It took only a few well-placed sleep spells to dispatch the guards, and a few recitations of the Litany of Adralla to burn off any remaining demon magic.

Teagan awoke first, pressed a hand to his head. Isolde immediately rushed to his side.

“Teagan, are you alright?” she implored tearfully.

“I'm—much better,” he said, Isolde helping him to his feet. “My mind is my own again.”

“Blessed Andraste,” Isolde shook her head. “I would never have forgiven myself if you had died, after I brought you here...” she turned to Kitranna. “Please—Connor's not responsible for this!”

“That is quite clear,” Wynne assured her calmly. “It is the demon's fault, not his.”

“Foolish child,” Morrigan sighed and shook her head. “It seems he made a deal of some kind with it.”

“He would never!” Isolde exclaimed. “It is that mage's fault!” she pointed at Jowan, who went pale.

Kitranna shook her head and moved in front of Jowan. “He didn't summon the demon,” she said.

“I think your son's a spirit healer,” Jowan said, peering over Kitranna's shoulder. “Or—or someone else who has a very strong connection with the Fade—I could never summon a demon that strong, I'm sure he did it on accident--”

“Connor would never!” Isolde exclaimed.

“He would if he did not know any better,” Fiona said. “And it sounds like he didn't.” she glanced at Jowan, who shook his head.

“He only just started showing magic,” Jowan explained. “He hardly knows anything.”

“You certainly didn't help,” Isolde crossed her arms. “Even if you did not summon the demon, you poisoned my husband!”

“He poisoned Eamon?” Teagan exclaimed.

“One thing at a time here,” Kitranna said. “We still have a demon we need to deal with.”

“There must be some way we can save him!” Isolde said.

“I can help--” Jowan started.

“You? After everything you've done?” Isolde exclaimed.

“Hear him out,” Kitranna said. “It's not like I hear anyone else offering any ideas.” she looked around at her companions.

Morrigan opened her mouth, but Isolde cut her off. “After everything he did, he should be executed!”

Kitranna drew her staff on Isolde, prompting about half of the soldiers to draw their own swords on her. “Don't you dare,” she hissed.

“Enough!” Teagan reached out and turned Kitranna's weapon aside. “I won't turn away the mage's help, not yet,” he said.

“He poisoned Eamon!” Isolde exclaimed.

“Your secrecy made this possible,” Teagan accused.

“If they learned Connor had magic, they'd take him away!” she said. “I simply wanted to protect Connor!”

“He would only have gone to the Circle, and--”

“Would this be a bad time to mention that the Circle had a problem with demons just a few days ago?” Alistair pointed out. “The Arlessa—well, she's not exactly wrong.”

“The Circle had a demon problem too?” Teagan said, frowning.

“A bad one,” Kitranna said. “We fixed it, but it was nasty.”

“That's—that's unusual, though, certainly?”

“One of that scale, yes,” Wynne said, furrowing her brow. “This demon's appearance is most irregular as well.”

“It is a Blight,” Alistair said with a shrug. “Lots of nasty spirits and demons come out during a Blight, surely?”

“Speculation for another time,” Fiona said. “Jowan, how could you help?”

“Connor isn't fully an abomination, not yet,” Jowan said. “You saw him—his body is the same, his mind is overriding the demon's. He's, well—childish. There's still time for a mage to confront the demon in the Fade, without hurting Connor himself.”

“We need Irving,” Kitranna said. “We need lyrium, and a few mages--”

“We already have the number of mages needed,” Fiona said, gesturing to the mages in their party. “We just need the lyrium.”

“There is...another way,” Jowan said slowly.

“What is it?” Kitranna asked.

“Blood magic,” Jowan said. “This ritual would require a lot of one person's life energy—all of someone's life energy, as a matter of fact.”

Morrigan snorted. “Would that we had a blood mage who knew more than the barest minimum of their craft,” she said with a sigh.

“Well, that one's right out,” Kitranna said. “The Circle's just across the lake, and Irving owes us a favor. We could get out there and be back in a few hours.”

“Are you sure?” Teagan said. “Connor is still in the castle--”

“It would be far more expedient to use the blood ritual,” Morrigan said. “But I mislike the idea of placing such a delicate ritual in the hands of someone so inexperienced.”

“How many blood mages have you met?” Jowan said, offended.

“Very few,” Morrigan admitted. “But I am more than capable of telling when someone is good at their craft, and you are not.”

“Oh.” Jowan deflated.

“What about Connor?” Teagan said. “He could return--”

“Then we have to be quick,” Kitranna said. “Do your best to keep out of his way—if he ran, then we still have some power over him.” she looked around. “Wynne, Fiona, Morrigan—you stay, you know how to stop demons, right?”

“For a time, yes,” Wynne said. “If necessary, we can erect a barrier to keep him inside the castle.”

“Great. Jowan--” Kitranna paused, and frowned. “Jowan, stay here.”

“But--”

“Leliana, come with me. We need to get across the lake and back. Everyone else, stay put.”

Everyone agreed and began preparations for sending Kitranna and Leliana back across the lake to the Circle. While they did so, Kitranna pulled Jowan, Zevran and Morrigan aside.

“You two, look after him,” Kitranna said, pointing to Jowan.

“Kitranna!” Jowan protested.

“I don't trust Lady Isolde, but I don't want to bring you near the Templars,” Kitranna hissed. “Everyone else has that thing about blood magic.”

Morrigan crossed her arms. “I do not see why I should be responsible for the wellbeing of a grown man, incompetent though he may be.”

“Nor I,” Zevran said. “Not that I can speak much on an inability to kill a mark.”

Morrigan snorted.

“Hey--!” Jowan protested.

“Just make sure no one stabs him,” Kitranna said. “Alright? That's all. Leliana and I should be back soon, then we can finish this.”

“If you insist,” Zevran sighed. “Although I would think our hosts would have other things on their mind.”

“Can't be too careful,” Kitranna said.