Kitranna and Leliana left Redcliffe for the Circle, taking the swiftest boat Redcliffe had to offer to get across the lake. They went directly to the Tower instead of stopping off at Calenhad.

The Templars were surprised to see Kitranna, but took her immediately to Irving without even asking her what her business was. Irving was in his office, attending to his many scattered books and documents. He still hadn't recovered from his ordeal, and looked pale and wan.

“Irving,” Kitranna nodded shortly in greeting.

“Warden Surana,” Irving said, glancing up at her once before going back to his papers. “Back so soon?”

“Just here on a quick errand,” Kitranna said. “We need lyrium—we're trying to do a demon exorcism.”

Irving ran a hand through his beard. “An exorcism?”

“Someone's possessed, but they're not a full Abomination yet.”

“Ahh.” Irving nodded. “A rare case.”

“Yeah—and we need lyrium if we're going to help at all.”

“Are you so sure he can be cured?” he looked at her, his gaze intent.

“Wynne thinks so,” Kitranna lied through her teeth. “She stayed with him while we went and got lyrium for the ritual.”

“Do you have enough mages to do this spell?”

Kitranna nodded. “Four in total.”

“Hm,” Irving frowned. “Perhaps I should come with you,” he said.

Kitranna thought of Jowan, hollow-eyed and pale. “No,” she said. “No, we have it under control.”

“Are you certain? Because--”

“We fixed up the Circle well enough, didn't we?”

Irving went quiet. “Yes,” he said at length. “You did.”

He let them go. Before they went, however, he asked them another question.

“You would not happen to know where some of my texts have vanished to, would you?”

“Not a clue,” Kitranna said, and she and Leliana left.

“You were lying,” Leliana said, once they were back on their boat and away from the Tower. “Morrigan took a book from the First Enchanter.”

Kitranna nodded. “Yeah. You wanna go back and tell him?”

Leliana looked away, towards the Tower. “no.”

“Alright then.”

The castle ground were quiet when they returned. Alistair came to meet them at the gate.

“You have it?” he said. “The lyrium?”

Kitranna nodded, and held out the case that they carried it in. “How's things here?” she asked as they went up the castle steps.

“Quiet,” Alistair said with a grimace. “Wynne had to put a barrier spell on the upstairs, though. That's where Connor's been hiding.”

“Right,” Kitranna said.

She met up with the other mages, and they decided on a plan. One of them was to go into the Fade, while a ritual the other mages performed would ensure that whomever they chose would be successfully routed into the demon's realm, past any possible obstacles. There was some debate over who would go—Morrigan had the best defense against demons, Wynne was a spirit healer but still vulnerable to a demon's exploits, Kitranna and Fiona were the best at combat...the list went on. Jowan was out of the question as being a blood mage, it would take a phenomenal amount of lyrium to send him to the part of the Fade they needed him to be in.

Ultimately, it was decided that Morrigan would go. She knew the most about the exorcism ritual and she was one of the mages with the best defense against demons. A potion of Wynne's immediately put her to sleep, and the others began casting their spell.

Morrigan found herself deep in the Fade for the second instance in a worryingly short amount of time.

The demons had been uncommonly active lately, and she did not like it, but if she was to rescue the child she would be forced to put aside her suspicions till later.

Predictably, the child did not recognize her when she found him, and led her on a merry chase through the landscape of the Fade until she found the demon who had ensnared him.

It was a Desire demon, who took the shape of a violet-skinned woman in a long purple dress. She hovered in the air, but the train of her dress touched the ground. She had a set of enormous horns that curved over and back over the crown of her head, and between the horns burned a purple fire. She had long, long hands whose fingers ended in filthy claws rather than fingernails.

She scowled when she saw Morrigan.

“Oh,” she said. “It's you.”

Morrigan raised her eyebrows. “I was not away we knew each other,” she said.

The demon tilted her head. “I felt you, of course—your magic, your dreams, your desires. I know you very well.”

“You know no such thing. I will hear none of this foolishness.”

“I have no wish to do battle with you, nor should you with me,” the demon said.

“How unfortunate,” with a thought, a staff came to Morrigan's hand. “For I have no time for words.”

“You wish to slay your mother,” the demon said, a smile revealing tiny, pointed teeth.

Morrigan cast a barrier spell on herself. “I have made no secret of that.”

“Do you know what she is?”

“Do you?” Morrigan tilted her head back. “I do not think that you do.”

“She smells of magic and blood, your mother,” the demon began to circle Morrigan, who kept her staff trained on it. “Dragon's fire and death and something not seen in your world for an age--”

Morrigan threw a fireball at the demon. The demon sputtered and vanished, to reappear behind Morrigan.

“If you wish a fight, you shall have one!” the demon's voice rumbled in her anger, a lower tone appearing under her higher one, and she summoned two Rage demons to assist her.

Morrigan eventually killed the desire demon, and when she did so, the world began to dissolve around her. Everything went dark, and her own body vanished in a shower of sparks.

Morrigan woke up, her head feeling congested and slow.

“Morrigan?”

She rubbed her eyes and glanced up to see Kitranna hovering over her.

“I am fine,” Morrigan said, sitting up. “How is the boy?”

“He's fine too,” Kitranna gestured over to where Connor and Isolde sat on the other side of the room, Isolde holding Connor tightly and weeping profusely. Something in Morrigan's gut twisted.

“Then all is well,” she said.

“Not quite,” Kitranna added, glancing at Connor and Isolde. “Eamon still hasn't woken up.”

Morrigan sighed. “Perhaps Wynne may aid him...?”

Kitranna nodded. “Maybe.”

Wynne couldn't help Eamon. She tried her best, but he still wouldn't wake up.

“He is in less danger now,” she said. “But I cannot restore him fully.” she looked him over.

“There must be something we can do!” Isolde exclaimed. “The Urn, perhaps--”

“I don't know if the Urn is a real option,” Teagan said.

“No, it is real!”

“Urn?” Kitranna said. “What Urn?”

“When Eamon first fell ill, we did everything we could to try and help him,” Isolde said. “But we could do nothing. Then, we heard of an artifact—the Urn of Sacred Ashes. It could cure anything!”

“I suppose a spirit healer from the Circle was out of the question?” Wynne sighed.

Isolde nodded. “We tried to contact them, but they said they could spare no one, not even for Eamon!”

“Where is this Urn?” Kitranna asked.

“I sent out men searching for it, but none have returned,” Isolde said. “The last I had heard, there was a man in Denerim, a Chantry Brother named Genitivi that knew of it.”

“We can't go to Denerim,” Kitranna said immediately. “Not with Loghain still looking for us, not before the Landsmeet--”

“And we still need to go to Orzammar,” Morrigan said. “We cannot waste time on one dying man when the Wardens still need to contact one of their allies.”

“Surana--” Alistair started.

“I can go to Denerim,” Leliana said. “I can contact this Genitivi and find out what he knows. Loghain does not know me, and I move very fast on my own.”

“And you'd meet us back in Orzammar?” Kitranna said.

“Wait--” Teagan said. “We still don't know if this Urn is even real--”

“It is worth trying,” Leliana said. “I have heard rumors of this Urn as well, and even if it is not real, surely we must still try?”

“Please,” Isolde said. “Anything you can do, anything that may help--!”

“I will go,” Leliana assured her. “Surana, I can meet you in Orzammar.”

“Are you sure you'll be able to catch up?” Wynne asked. “Or that you will be safe on your own?”

“I have traveled on my own before,” Leliana assured them.

“Not with Loghain after you,” Alistair pointed out.

Leliana smiled. “No. I have had much worse after me.”

So it was decided that while Kitranna and the others went to the Frostbacks, Leliana would go to Denerim as quickly as possible to contact Brother Genitivi and see what he knew about this Urn.

If the Urn was not a viable solution, then they would be forced to find some other means to cure Eamon. If they could not, Teagan could represent Eamon at the Landsmeet, but it would strike them a terrible blow.

Kitranna and her group stayed one night in Redcliffe, helping both the castle and townsfolk attempt to clean up their home and try and repair some of the damage that the demon had done.

They villagers set many boats out on the lake, and lit them aflame. Isolde and Connor watched from the shore banks, Isolde holding Connor tightly to her side. They weren't sending Connor to the Circle just yet, but they would have to soon. Isolde was not prepared to try and flee Redcliffe and seek shelter with the Chasind or the Avvar, who were known for harboring apostates, and since neither of them were elves or had elvhen blood, the Dalish were clearly not an option. Morrigan brought up the possibility of fleeing to the Wilds or some other distant corner of Ferelden, but Isolde refused.

The next day, Teagan gave Leliana the fastest horse he could spare, and gave Kitranna and her group as much supplies as they needed, and everyone was off. Kitranna made sure Jowan was by her side when they left, that no one sneakily arrested him or anything like that.

They were on the road a few days, and everyone was seemingly getting along, until the boredom of travel caught up with them, and the topic of blood magic came up.

“You are so sure it is safe to bring your friend along with us?” Wynne asked Kitranna.

Kitranna glanced at the older woman. “You know Jowan,” she said. “He's perfectly safe.”

“Blood magic is dangerous,” Wynne said. “Can he really be trusted?”

“Yes.”

“Are you so sure? Blood magic opens the door to many worse kinds of magic. It is not forbidden for no reason.”

“Are you going on about forbidden magics again, old woman?” Morrigan rolled her eyes. She had been listening in with a sour expression.

“There are good reasons for the limitations on magic,” Wynne said.

“How is it a good reason when all it is is the Templars not wanting us to be able to get out of the Tower?” Kitranna demanded. “The Dalish seemed to do just fine on their own.”

“The Avvar and the Chasind are both fine without the Circles as well,” Fiona piped up. “Despite how the Circle and the Chantry would tell you otherwise.”

“Do they commonly employ blood magic?” Wynne asked. “That is a staple of the Imperium—it is forbidden for a reason.”

“Tch!” Morrigan waved a hand. “It is only forbidden because the Imperium misuses it tremendously.”

“Well they do kind of summon a lot of demons and keep slaves,” Alistair pointed out. “I wouldn't want to use any magic they came up with either.”

“I can't summon demons!” Jowan exclaimed loudly.

They all looked at him.

“Yes you can,” Alistair said. “Isn't that one of the main things blood mages do?”

Jowan shook his head. “That's what I thought!” he said. “I mean—you hear so much about blood mages summoning demons, and getting their knowledge from demons and such—but the more blood magic you do, the harder it is to access the Fade!”

“Then why are there so many tales of blood mages summoning terrible demons and becoming abominations?” Zevran asked.

Jowan shrugged. “I don't know—but they're all wrong. The only demons I can summon now are little ones—that's why I'd need to kill someone just to send one person into the Fade. You get power from blood, but none of it brings you any closer to the Fade. If anything, I think it makes the Veil stronger.”

“That cannot be right,” Wynne said, pursing her lips.

“Oh, the Templars getting something wrong about magic? Big surprise,” Kitranna said, a bitter curl to her lips.

“I think it's not that they got it wrong,” Jowan said. “I think they lied about it.”

“But why would they do that?” Wynne asked.

“Why wouldn't they?” Kitranna said. “Anything to keep us in the Circle, right?”

“The Circles are for our protection,” Wynne insisted. “They have no reason to lie to us. Many mages would be in danger if they had no support and knew no other mages.”

“Organizations of all sorts lie about many things,” Fiona said. “But magic is so feared and so maligned I would not be surprised if they really did get it wrong.”

“So...you don't summon demons, then?” Alistair asked Jowan. “What about controlling people's minds?”

“I don't really do that either,” Jowan said. “But I could I I wanted to. Not the demons, though.”

“What else does blood magic do?”

Jowan looked away. "A lot of things," he said. "I've been trying to stop using it so much though..."

Morrigan let out a snort, but at a glare from Kitranna, didn't comment.

Leliana reached Denerim in half the time it normally would have taken, riding her horse as hard as he would go. She had to dodge soldiers searching for the Wardens, but if she donned her Chantry garb, no one looked twice at her.

Denerim was wet and chilly this time of year, the streets muddy. There was a disease that had closed off the Alienage, and some of the illness had spread to the poorer districts as well.

Brother Genitivi's house was near the Alienage, surrounded by crowded, dark little houses, some with marks of plague on the door. Brother Genitivi's house had no sign of plague, but there was something about it that set the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

The door was unlocked, which didn't bode well. She went inside quietly, one hand on the blade at her belt.

“Brother Genitivi?” Leliana called.

“He's not here,” a thin human man with dark hair peered around a corner.

“Oh!” Leliana said. “I am sorry. Could you tell me where he is?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I had something very important I need to ask him.”

“You're looking for the Urn, aren't you?” the man looked her up and down, taking in the Chantry Sister habit and the daggers on her belt.

Leliana narrowed her eyes. “Do you know of it?”

“I know Brother Genitivi was looking for it, and went searching for it, and he vanished. Then some knights from Redcliffe came, and they vanished too.”

Leliana looked the man up and down. “Do you know what happened to them?”

He shook his head. “This quest is cursed,” he insisted. “You should leave it be.”

“I cannot do that.”

The man pinched the bridge of his nose. “Brother Genitivi went to Lake Calenhad,” he said. “For research. I pray for his safe return, but I do not now what has happened to him.”

“Lake Calenhad?” Leliana calculated in her head. “How long ago?”

“A—a month, perhaps two.”

He would have been there at roughly the same time they were there. She had heard nothing of any Brother doing research—but then again, they had had other concerns. She peered intently at the man. “Could you tell me anything more? Anything at all? Perhaps he had notes I could see?”

“No,” Waylon said. “No, nothing like that.”

At that, Leliana frowned. “You know nothing of his research?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here, if you are not an assistant?”

“I—I am not privy to everything he knows--”

Leliana stepped closer. With a start, she caught the faint scent of lyrium.

“You are no Brother,” she breathed.

The man's face contorted, and he sent a clumsy shock spell at her. She dived out of the way and unsheathed her daggers. The man was not a competent fighter; she had him down within a few minutes.

She stood over his body and wiped the daggers on a cloth from the table. She sighed. Something was rotten here.

She searched the house, and found the body of another man—perhaps the original Waylon, or some other innocent victim in whatever this was. With a pang, she was reminded of the Game of Orlais.

She did in fact find some research of Genitivi's, books which pointed to him going to the Frostbacks, not Calenhad. His maps indicated a miniscule town in the mountains called Haven, several miles south of the entrance to Orzammar.

Leliana pocketed the maps and left, anonymously tipping off the Guard to the two bodies in Genitivi's house. It would do no one any good to leave two rotting bodies in an area already afflicted with plague.