Special thanks to BioWare and the readers!

I noticed some inconsistencies in some of the previous chapters regarding the others' knowledge of red lyrium, so I went back and made some edits to chapters 12 through 15. TLDR version is that Reneka has told Anders and Roghart about her usage of red lyrium.

All of us were amazed at how Sandal managed to lead us towards a route that could take our expedition around the cave in. None of us had told him that we had been searching for such a solution, yet he didn't seem the least surprised about his findings. I even entertained the thought that Sandal could read minds in addition to his other mysterious skills. If that didn't explain it, then the dwarven boy must have had extraordinary intuition or he had to be the luckiest guy in the whole world.

Roghart was able to convince Sandal to return to the camp with us, even though the boy was ready to march forward alone. I wanted to describe the look in his eyes as determination, but Sandal acted more like possessed, his childish grin never wavering.

However, I was delighted to see his cheerful laugh when Bodahn met us back at the camp, although it wasn't a surprise that his father was even more joyful. If a glare could stab a person, my target would have been Bartrand who interrupted the reunion with his grumpy yelling and ordered us to pack immediately. I trusted Varric when he sighed that the journey would be a lot less troublesome if we kept our opinions to ourselves and didn't oppose his brother. According to him, the 'stubborn thick-head' wouldn't stop spitting curses back at you even if you had been struck down by a darkspawn while arguing with him.

I had lost the track of time while inspecting how dramatically our surroundings seemed to change the deeper we ventured. Even Bartrand occasionally stopped to take a better look at the walls and the ceiling, as if to ensure he was still on the correct path. The puzzled look on his face certainly couldn't have been the result of curiosity towards the ancient ruins, no matter how astonishing they were at least to me. The dwarven statues standing in neat rows along the wide roads were much taller now and their poses differed more from the ones on the upper levels of the dungeon. Various carvings all over the surfaces were also more detailed, like whoever had made them had clearly respected their craft.

Just when I had begun to admire the scene, the number of statues lessened the further we walked, among other artistic symbols. Without them, every hallway looked plain and repetitive. What concerned me more was the odd sensation that grew stronger with every step I took. The air felt pregnant and thin, making my whole body tense as if ready for combat even though there were no enemies in sight.

"Holy shit," Varric subtly summarized my thoughts when we reached a massive cavern, supported by tall pillars and lit by ominous orange light shimmering from cubical lanterns along the stairs.

"This the place you were looking for?" Roghart asked, clearly a bit alarmed by the stunned expression on Bartrand's face.

"Not...exactly," the dwarf muttered. "Something old sure, like an abandoned thaig or a mine but...what is this?"

Roghart unfolded one of the maps Anders had provided for the expedition, frowning as he looked at it. "This only shows the entrance and the paths we took on the upper levels," he stated. "So how did you know this was here?"

"There were scavenger tales, information passed from one dwarf to another for generations. No-one believed them though."

"You did," Roghart pointed out. "Isn't that why we are here?"

"Nevertheless, it looks like those tales held more truth to them than anyone could have guessed," Varric sounded excited.

"We have to investigate," Bartrand waved his hand at the others. "Let's make camp!"

I received more chilling shudders through my spine as we cleared the stairs, making me wonder if I was actually catching a flu. Something dangerous lingered in the air, but I seemed to be the only one affected by it. Neither of my brothers were on guard and Anders looked almost carefree, even though he had earlier announced his repulsion towards the Deep Roads. I was still unsure whether him being called a Grey Warden had something to do with it or if he just didn't like the place.

"Nothing in this thaig makes any sense," Bartrand cursed while the workers were unloading some cargo. "I don't recognize any of these strange markings on the walls and there are no statues of the Paragons."

"Is that so strange then?" Carver frowned.

"Dwarves who lived all the way down here had to be from the time before the First Blight," Bartrand sounded unusually knowledgeable. "If that's the case, they must have had some unique treasures with them, something no other dwarf has ever laid his eyes upon."

My admiration was quickly erased when it became clear Bartrand wasn't the least interested in the historical value of the place. I gestured at Anders to ask him if he wanted to explore the area with me, grinning to myself when he agreed. For some reason, he had seemed a bit awkward for a while now and the usual cheer in his voice was flat.

Another wave of unpleasant energy washed over me as we followed Bartrand's laborers to the upper floor of the chamber and I didn't need a second glance of confirmation once I finally saw the source of it. Crystallized red veins stuck out from between the cracks on stone walls like claws of a beast and the ground was littered with more or less shattered pieces of the same material. My mouth gaped when I wanted to warn the others not to go anywhere near the stuff, but I stopped myself after remarking that the veins weren't glowing with their ordinary bright color and there was no reaction when the workers passed them.

"What's up?" Anders asked when he undoubtedly noticed my hesitation to move. "Why is your face twisted like that? It's scary."

Red lyrium, I signed him and pointed at the veins. There was no sense in dancing around the subject when I knew perfectly well how poisonous the matter was.

"What, that?" Anders stared, his voice full of shock. "You sure?"

Flustered, I tried to question him if he was joking for asking me that, but I didn't know the correct signs and even the letters I spelled individually must have come out wrong. Getting so irked didn't help at all.

"Sorry sorry, you're right," Anders said hastily. "It just doesn't feel like the red lyrium you carry around. I kept those shards safe when you became ill, remember? Even for that brief moment when I had them in my hand I could sense their manipulating power, like I was being pulled into an abyss. These odd veins don't emit anything like that."

It felt weird to hear another human describing the sensation of red lyrium's influence. I had been too young and shocked to remember much of the first years following my kidnapping, but I could never forget my first contact with red lyrium. Anders had been quite accurate, though the qunari hadn't shoved a handful of shards into my hands right away. The slow process of making me accustomed to it might have kept me from losing my mind, but the constricting feeling Anders had felt had lasted for only a minute while I was forced to tolerate it through night and day, always aware that there was a small amount of poison just inches away from me.

I approached one of the veins, ignoring Anders' hand when he tried to stop me. There had been no visible reaction with Bartrand's men, but I still thought I had to be the one to confirm our safety. I had never seen how the qunari acquired red lyrium and I honestly had zero interest towards the subject. Coin had once told me that it was mined from veins like the one in front of me, though according to his description the source should have seem more lively, like it was alive. The spiky limb I was staring at still emitted faint scent of magic, enough to make me nervous, but that was the only proof of its true form that no longer existed.

Anders let out a concerned gasp when I touched the vein. I wanted to reassure him, but the sensation of emptiness made me even more confused. When there was no change after I even practically leaned against it, I waved at Anders to join me, still poking and knocking the glassy surface when he appeared at my side.

"Is everything okay?" Anders asked.

Curling my fingers, I sought for the correct words to sign and ended up with just 'empty'.

"Empty? You mean its depleted or something?"

Yes, I signed. Nothing. No magic. I feel power, but there is nothing.

Blushing a bit, I hid my face after such an awkward explanation.

"What are you scheming here?" Roghart startled me by having sneaked up on us.

Anders gave me a meaningful look first and I assumed he wanted my approval before revealing our findings to my brother. Roghart's reaction to red lyrium hadn't been the kindest one the first time he had learned the truth of its consequences, so I could understand why Anders wished to consider my feelings.

After I nodded at Anders, he inhaled like he was facing a tough ordeal. "These odd branches are sources of the red lyrium I detected in her veins back at the Rose," he explained. "Or, were at least. Reneka says that there isn't anything left." He turned to look at me. "Right?"

Right, I signed.

When Roghart didn't reply right away, I was sure unpleasant memories regarding me and red lyrium had angered him again. If that was the case, then he was able to hide it a lot better this time, because I couldn't read his expression at all.

I was stunned when Roghart touched the vein without fear, clearly convinced that it posed no threat. He examined his gloved fingers and rubbed them together, like something had stung him through the leather.

"Carver," he called out. "Come here for a second."

Like an obedient soldier he was, Carver dropped the heavy luggage he had carried to one of the elves and marched towards us. The closer he got, the harder it became for me to look him in his eyes. Carver hadn't been too understanding of my red lyrium usage and we hadn't sat down to properly discuss it. In fact, I hadn't properly discussed about anything with Carver since joining my family again and it made me feel odd pressure in my chest.

"Take a look at these," Roghart told our brother and pointed at the lyrium deposit. "It was the source of the stuff that knocked Reneka unconscious, so we will have to keep an eye out in case we'll find more."

Crouching, Carver spent a weirdly long moment observing the veins without touching them and his gaze drifted back at me as I nervously waited for his comment. "Was?" he asked as he stood back up.

"These are depleted," Anders explained. "Probably mined by the dwarves who used to live here. If they were able to handle it, I mean."

Carver peered at the tunnels ahead, like he was examining every corner and stone he could see. "Can you sense more nearby?" he asked me.

His question left me stunned and I stopped rubbing my sweating palms together. The look on his face was so compassionate compared to the wrinkled forehead and furrowing eyebrows he had worn the last time red lyrium had been the topic. I couldn't tell if Carver was donning such a mask to make me feel better or if he was being genuine. Another possibility could also have been that mother or Roghart had scolded him for treating me unfairly, but I truly wished his uncharacteristic change of heart had been on his own initiative. It gave me courage to have a similar talk with him as I had with Roghart. Even though Carver was more wary of the subject, he deserved the truth as much as anyone else I wished to have a close relationship with.

I took a couple of steps towards the same tunnel Carver had leered at and focused purely on the lingering energy red lyrium would have left behind if we were in a mine that had once been full of it. The power of the substance was so potent that it's imprint was almost impossible to erase and it would take decades for the last tiniest bits of residue to lose their magical properties. Traces of red lyrium could be sensed even in my bones long after my death by other mages according to my Arvaarad.

After a while, I was forced to close my eyes due to a stinging headache and in order to steady my pulse. Despite the clear signs of red lyrium's strong presence, I wanted to keep concentrating on the nearest source. Finding and destroying it was the only way to protect the others from its immediate corrupting influence, although it wasn't enough if Bartrand planned to stay longer to dig up artifacts. I had to count on Roghart's persuasiveness if the expedition couldn't continue. There was no way a mute mage could change a greedy dwarf's mind.

It was faint at first, but the harder I focused the clearer I could hear a familiar singing voice. I wasn't in danger as long as I was able to treat it as a simple noise than a hypnotizing lullaby. The trick was not to listen to the song so closely that you could pick up a followable melody that could penetrate one's consciousness. Ignoring its whole existence was the reason why I didn't hear the song most of the time. Using red lyrium had also increased my resistance towards mind corruption, like fighting fire with fire. Despite knowing it all, I was alarmed of the sheer volume of the echoing aura that sounded like sweet ringing of bells to my ears. The source also felt strangely small, like it wasn't a cave filled with red lyrium but rather a single object.

I fluttered my eyes for a moment, like awakening from a dream, and turned to Anders. There's a lot of it, I signed.

"You mean the tunnels are full of it?" Anders asked, his voice somehow spooked.

No. Somewhere there. I made a gesture of holding a ball in my hands, attempting to describe the size of the source. A single thing, I signed with difficulty. Not everywhere.

Anders translated my answer for the others, which made Carver wear an oddly resolute face. "We should scout ahead and find the source then, yes?" he suggested. "Reneka could lead us to it and then we can get rid of it before the rest of the expedition proceeds."

"I agree," Varric chimed in after having clearly eavesdropped the conversation. "The path ahead seems to be intact, so that's where we will have to go nevertheless if we wish to make any profit out of this trip. Might as well deal with that scary stuff while exploring there."

"You don't sound too excited," Roghart remarked with a sneer.

"Unlike my brother, I wasn't born in Orzammar. Mines and stones and other 'dwarven' shit aren't really my forte. Moneymaking and general business on the surface far above the gloomy dungeons like these, now those are the things I know about."

"Explains the lack of a bushy beard then," Anders stated. "You must be the only clean-shaven dwarf I have ever met."

"Any self-respecting businessman knows that the foundation for a successful negotiation is built on the first outer looks of the parties involved. My credibility would suffer greatly if I couldn't notice the breadcrumbs stuck in my beard in time because of all the tangled hair."

The chuckle that escaped my lips was so sudden that I covered my mouth, making myself look even more awkward of course. I quickly remedied the mistake by bringing my hands together in front of me and smiled innocently while the others stared at me with perplexed expressions. Except Varric, whose mouth curved into a grin that I didn't interpret as an insulting one.

"You should laugh more often Red," the dwarf said. "Despite what you might think, it suits you."

I felt my cheeks blushing a bit and attempted to hide it from Anders and my brothers by gazing after Varric when he added that he would go inform Bartrand about our plan to take a look ahead. Before I could properly wonder how he knew about the nickname the other Saarebas of my tribe had bestowed upon me, I remembered Varric calling himself a storyteller. It wouldn't have been too surprising if Roghart had provided him the details of the jobs he had done when the dwarf hadn't been present.

While I didn't consider my life as good material for a story, I could understand the appeal to learn about a mage like me who could wield a unique power. I also found it bracing that the nickname didn't stir me as much as it had before whenever used by my Arvaarad. It was one of the many reasons why I could gladly agree with Varric's suggestion.

#

I knew the Deep Roads had received their name from the simple fact that they spanned far into the underground, easily causing anyone to feel as if they were descending into the hell itself with zero chance to climb out. For me though, it was the awfully familiar whiff of red lyrium's conquering energy that kept me on my toes.

Bartrand had been right to be suspicious of the area though. It wasn't only the architecture that seemed to be out of place, but the monsters too weren't the usual hordes of darkspawn. We killed more shades than I could keep track on and even a couple of golems that must have remained immobile for decades till our arrival judging by the thick dust whirling around them as they flailed their massive arms. Killing demons had been a routine task for me as a Saarebas because they were one of the few things I knew many qunari feared, but fighting golems was a whole new experience and not a pleasant one. No matter how fast I kept dodging the giant fists coming at me, I lost my footing more than I cared to admit when tripping on loose stones and cracked floor tiles left by the golem's heavy stomping on the ground. I had to abandon my hasty and instinctive fighting style against an enemy that could have punched my head off my shoulders in one strike. My every move had to be carefully planned and while I was usually prepared to take a hit or two, I needed to avoid any contact with the golem if I didn't wish to end up as a stain on the wall.

I also noted how ferocious the opponents were, especially the golems which seemed to keep fighting until every stone in their bodies had been cut off with a sword or blown up with magic. The item of red lyrium I had sensed was nearby, making me speculate that the monsters had been either guarding it or they had been enhanced by its corruption.

A heavy door was blocking our path, but before Roghart could step through, I grabbed his sleeve when a nauseating headache hit me. "What is it?" he quickly asked.

It's there, I signed to Anders who translated for me. The more I focused on the source, the harder it became for me to even keep my eyes open. It wasn't the first time I had been near such an immense amount of red lyrium, but there was something seriously wrong with the object still unknown to us.

"Can we shield ourselves in anyway from its poison?" Roghart looked at both me and Anders. "With some protection spell maybe?"

Anders glanced at me, but I shook my head. I hadn't learned any protective magic before meeting Anders and those spells wouldn't have worked in our situation. The Saarebas' of my tribe had been trained to receive every bit of red lyrium's power, not to block it out. An addict was the worst person to give advice on how not to consume the drug he was hooked on.

Don't listen, I gestured and Roghart frowned in confusion when Anders told him what I had said.

"To what?" he chuckled, though he wasn't fully amused.

You will know when hear, I clumsily answered.

Obviously not assured, Roghart sighed and entered the room first. It was small and had nothing else worth of remark than a wide staircase leading to some kind of an altar. Everyone was staring at the dancing red light coming from the top of it and I instantly regretted mimicking them as it made me feel like there was a beast inside my head trying to claw its way out, scraping the skull and messing with my senses. My vision got cloudy for a second and the singing of the lyrium drilled its way into my ears, sounding more like a mother's sweet loving whisper than a lullaby, with clear detectable words.

It was a good sign that I could hear a voice, although I wasn't sure whose was it. Giving any thought to my Arvaarad made me sick, but I had no choice but to recall his oppressive ways of how to steel the mind against red lyrium. I could see his furious face commanding me to focus on an emotion that was the exact opposite of what the substance was causing me to feel. Red lyrium strengthened the desires of its wielder and became more potent depending on what was wished from it.

I stopped rubbing my temples and took a confident step towards the stairs. The item made me afraid, so what I required was confidence. I mentally covered my ears from the maddening noise and wrapped myself in the sensation of safety, thinking about my family and friends who had made my life mean something again. Someone tugged my arm and I could now identify it was Anders when the lyrium wasn't able to control me anymore. Trust, I signed to him, trying my best to erase the anxiety in his eyes and gently removing his hand so that I could walk forward.

I repeated the word I had told Anders to myself several times over as I reached the altar and was stunned once I discovered the source of red lyrium's overwhelming energy. The item I had sensed looked like a religious idol, elegantly crafted and well-preserved. For me though the most peculiar aspect of it was the red lyrium it was mostly made of: it glowed more brightly than any piece I had ever seen or digested and seemed as alive as a beating heart. When I broke my concentration even for a brief moment, I could feel its corruption seeking to enter my mind. The process should have been much slower and I couldn't explain why the others still hadn't been affected in the room. I was the one with the experience to counter red lyrium's manipulation, yet I squirmed while fighting against it.

"What is that?" Roghart appeared behind me, making me curse him for spooking me again while I had been too focused on bolstering my willpower to hear his steps.

Soon Carver followed our eldest brother, Anders and Varric trailing behind him with much more reserved movements. Once all of us were gathered around the strange idol, the lyrium started to swirl inside its glassy container and the raw energy it emitted was so intense that it formed into thin lightning-like strings that danced around the object. I was sure the behavior was due to the presence of numerous living hosts it could corrupt, but no-one showed the usual symptoms I had witnessed when a person who was not used to red lyrium tended to suffer from.

"Whatever it is, it's creepy," Varric said with his nose wrinkled. "And it's definitely made of lyrium, that much even I can tell by being a dwarf."

"This is oddly more reddish than the shards you had," Anders said to me, then frowned when he kept staring at my face. "Are you okay? You seem a bit ill."

Much more stronger than I used, I hastily signed to him with no regard of whether the gestures were correct or not. Holding my concentration was too important to spare my thoughts on anything else.

"This is even more dangerous then," Anders replied and looked at my brothers. "It's different from the lyrium Reneka used. It feels too potent."

"That explains why she's clearly not well," Carver put his hand against my forehead before I could react. "Not feverish like back then, but being near this idol can't be good for her."

"Or us," Varric added.

The second after Varric had said that, Bartrand strolled into the room, grooming his long pair of mustache and shooting us a curious leer. "Did you find anything?" he sounded stern. "At least you cleared the path of all the monsters. I didn't encounter any on my way here."

My intuition warned me that Bartrand couldn't be allowed near the idol. His kind of personality was the perfect target for red lyrium's corruption.

Suddenly, Varric grabbed the idol from the altar, making me gasp and feel the effects of letting the damn singing past the barricade of my mind. I had to close my eyes again and banish the sensation of fear the lyrium tried to force upon me. Slowly, the sounds began to fade and were replaced with more familiar voices, one of which kept asking me if I was alright. I raised my hand in an attempt to make an assuring gesture at whoever had been concerned for my well-being, still keeping my eyes closed in order to maintain the meditative state.

"We found this idol made of lyrium, could be valuable," I heard Varric declare to his brother. "It has an evil vibe to it however, so it should be locked in a container and checked by a skilled mage first in my opinion. Don't hold on to it too long."

Hold on to it? I panicked and tore myself out of my concentration, wincing at the fact that I could sense the idol's presence in Bartrand's hands.

"We'll look around a bit further, see if there's anything else worth picking up," Varric continued.

When did he throw it to him? I found myself petrified, like my legs were made of lead and my body refused to obey my commands. The more I set my mind on reaching the red lyrium, the clearer I could hear the song until it actually became a voice. It told me to stop struggling and leave it alone.

My palms became cold and trembled. Never before had I heard the red lyrium speaking. I wasn't aware it was capable of doing that.

"Yes, go ahead," Bartrand murmured quietly, staring at the idol like he was bewitched.

Having no other ideas in my immobilized condition, I cried out and cast a spell meant to stun enemies within melee range of me, spending as much mana as my confused mind was able to in order to affect Bartrand who was so far away. The surge of magic finally released the locks in my body and I slumped on my knees, taking a quick breath before turning my gaze at Bartrand.

The spell had failed. Bartrand had been knocked prone, but he was up on his feet before me. Every step in the idol's direction caused my heart to pound so heavily that I thought it was going to tunnel its way out of my chest. The lyrium told me again to leave it be, making my head so sore that I had to stop when I was halfway to Bartrand. Biting my lower lip, I lurched against one of the stone pillars supporting the stairs and watched as the dwarf shut the door behind him, a mechanism clicking inside of it.

"Bartrand!" Varric shouted, snapping me back to the reality that I had blasted everyone around me with my spell and they were just now recovering from it.

He and my brothers rushed to the door, but Anders halted on the stairs where I was, being more worried about my staggering movements than the truth that we were trapped. I'm fine, my fingers told him which wasn't a lie. With the idol being on the other side of the door, my headache started to wear off in a steady manner and I didn't need to block my mind from any unwanted noises. I sensed the red lyrium with ease, but its energy had no manipulative control over me anymore.

None of the signs meant good news. They were a confirmation that there was no need for the idol to harass me as it had found a more suitable victim, a person who responded better to its honeyed lullabies and promises of power.

"Bartrand, open this door!" Varric yelled, sounding genuinely upset. "What sort of game is this?!"

"Didn't you always say that you were too smart for games, brother?" Bartrand replied with a smug laugh.

"You're shitting me! Are you really going to betray me for one stupid idol?"

"Of course not. This whole thaig is a gold mine and I'm not splitting the profits three ways! As a businessman, you of all people should understand."

"As a businessman I can tell you that you don't stab your partners in the back!"

"Consider the contract terminated, Hawke," Bartrand's voice was receding. "Sorry, brother!"

"Bartrand?" Varric called desperately. "Bartrand!"

I yanked Anders' sleeve, making him follow me to join the others. Somehow Roghart didn't seem as pissed as I would have expected. While Carver looked puzzled of what had transpired during such a short time, my twin brother folded his arms across his chest and sighed deep, like the betrayal hadn't come to him as a surprise.

Varric was a complete opposite. Furrows between his brows induced an incredulous expression and a variety of cusses flooded out of his mouth. It was going to be a tough challenge for me to shed any light on what the red lyrium had done by using the Mages' Cant, but the speechless look on Varric's face compelled me to try.

"Right, I believe now would be a good time for you to clarify what the hell we are really dealing with here," he threw his arms up in the air and gave me a leer. "Because I know my brother can be a jerk, but not that big of a jerk."