Daress secured her candle to its holder before she head out the door. The light wavered about the room. Every step shook the flame, but it did not go out. She shielded it with her free hand as she peered into the darkness ahead.

She didn’t bother changing out of her white nightdress, but did grab a black shawl for over her shoulders. It blanketed around her golden hair. The whites of her tired eyes reflected in the candelight as she passed Arturri’s room.

The Bheorse had commanded he stay in there, so Daress didn’t pay any attention to his door. She was allowed to walk the halls, after all, and he didn’t matter in the least.

She went down from the Orphanage to the tower, circling to the back of the Church. The front of the Church had walkways leading up to the Crypt’s towers, but the back had staircases leading down. Its path led deep into the heart of Entithea.

She entered the Church’s main sanctuary through a side door. The doors at the very back of the Church weren’t seen by most of the attendees. A thick wooden door with great black iron hinges stood behind the statues at the wall.

Would she get in trouble for going down here alone, she wondered? Leliana had said that she would be tightening security for the Orphans, but no orders had been issued yet. And frankly, Daress would like to make Leliana worry about her for once. Besides, she told herself, it would be fine.

She opened the heavy door to a winding spiral staircases. Her candle flickered at the cool air that came from within. She waited for the candle to settle and then went forward.

Initially, the architects of old had been as elaborate there as with the rest of the Church. But it was as if they ran out of steam as she descended further. At first, wide steps with iron railings and straight smooth walls welcomed her. Buttresses not far above her head lowered further into the deep.

She could hear nothing except her steps on the worn stone, worn by a thousand feet over a thousand years. With every new corner came a small change. The buttresses stopped abruptly, as if forgotten. The walls became jagged and unpolished. No longer wide, the steps spiraled as if to a single point; the staircase drilled into the world.

It wouldn’t be fun to go back up these steps, she realized. They became steeper lower down. But she had already come this far, and she still yearned to see the place for herself. She hoped the candle would make the journey there and back.

The stairs finally ended. The light from her candle stretched itself across a long passage. A wide hallway with many holes along the parallel walls, and another door across from the stairs. The holes must have been for storage, but to store what, Daress wasn’t sure.

Her light danced around the room as the candle flickered. The floor was wet here. She wore light sandals, but it still touched the soles of her feet. The water was cold and muddy, grit slipped between her shoe and her foot’s sole, nestling between her toes. A rustling sound came from the walls. Things must be living in those holes now, after so many years abandoned.

She hesitated walking through this place, but was so close to her destination. Curious, she held the candle over to a wall to look in one of the holes.

They were shallow enough on the inside, and a small rat’s beady eyes reflected the light of the candle. Its small pink hands clutched itself in fear. It gave a small scream at her and she backed away from the hole. Thankfully it did not rush at her to escape. She realized there were plenty of them down here judging by the scratching sounds.

Nothing to be afraid of, she told herself. Just rats. Leaving them in peace, she carried on towards the far door. It was not nearly as well maintained as its sister above. This door was worn rough, and had moss growing from the bottom. Its hinges were rusted almost in place. That wouldn’t stop her. She braced herself as much as she could on the wet ground and gave it as firm a pull as she could. It swung open, freed.

With the door opened, she could feel the tunnel beyond was even colder. She pulled the shawl close around herself with her free hand, the candle holder in the other. The air smelled strongly of salt and something else. Something between game and the algae from the fountain. Something was sloshing. The door had blocked most of the sound, and now it hit her all at once. She was drawn to it, and carried on through to the small tunnel beyond the door.

This passage was all uncut stone and jagged edges. It seemed almost natural. All she could hear was the sloshing, louder than any thoughts.

All the stories of the grotto, and she had never been down here, aside from the rare ceremony. This was her first time going alone. It was once a pilgrimage for many people. It was now one for her, too.

The narrow tunnel eased open, and the light from her candle caught on the water. The crests scattered the light around the room in parts, and ate the rest in its darkness. The room seemed to sway with the movement of the gentle waves.

It was a round space, around five metres across. The liquid brimmed like a cup about to overspill. This was a holy place.

Around the grotto were a few old decaying benches, and a few large stones. She sat down on a rock, finding that it was in fact not only cold but very damp. Everything in the room glistened, saturated.

The rhythmic sound of the water hitting the stone was soothing, filling the whole space. There was something enchanting and meditative in it.

It was no wonder no one came here anymore. It was a hazard to get here, not very comfortable, and the grotto was dangerous. Sometimes it spilled over onto the ground meant to lead to it. Sometimes it became almost a pit. It had a life of its own.

Daress hoped some wisdom from the King and Queen might meet her in this place. She tried to sit in silence, and listen. She watched the choppy water, as if they would answer a million unspoken questions.

Something moved within it. She thought the candlelight caught it glistening. Something dark cut through the surface and parted the waves. For the first time she noticed how far she was from anyone else. Only the candle provided light. It was half gone.

She considered leaving, but she was too curious for that. She remembered reading about the merfolk, who used to come up to the grotto. To have a chance to meet one herself would have been incredible. So she hopped down from the rock and moved closer to the water's edge.

From her books she remembered that the merfolk were not always of a friendly sort. All the same, she was eager to see it for herself. People could be mistaken about that sort of thing. Assuming the worst. The mer were supposedly very intelligent, after all.

She took the candle closer. The stench of seawater filled her nostrils. She put her hand on the slimy rim of the pool and peered into the blackness for a long moment.

She didn’t notice her hand slipping until it was too late.

Daress toppled into the water with hardly time to scream. The candle was extinguished immediately.

It was freezing. She had never felt so cold. She gasped as she reached the surface and cried out for help. Kicking at the water, she splayed out her arms to try and reach the pool’s rim. But her dress and shawl were too heavy and pulled her back. She couldn’t swim. She’d never learned. She’d never been submersed, and her chest rose and fell fast in panic.

Her screams of desperation were only broken by long moments when the grotto pulled her under again.

There would be no help coming from above. She was all alone down here, after all. The mer, if there ever was one, wouldn’t care. When she broke the surface, she couldn’t even cry anymore, only choke out on the water. It was salty and putrid, filling her nose, her mouth. She thrashed in it, less and less.

The weight of her nightdress pull her under, and under.

Minutes. Feeling like hours. Her limbs became numb. Her thoughts were finally tired. Oh. She was so tired.

She was underneath the water. Everything held still then for an eternal moment. She hung, suspended beneath the surface. She needed to breath, but her body forbid it.

She saw a light. Coming from below her. So brilliant. It was a twinkle at first, distorted by the moving waves, but becoming more clear. Her eyes stung with the effort to see it.

As she hung between that moment of life and death, something met her there. Time stood still. She was not as alone as she had thought, after all. That light enveloped her, but illuminated nothing.

Is this how you want it all to end?

She was so tired. Her exhaustion was absolute. She thought of long nights, trapped souls, and Leliana’s no. Nadira’s leaving. She thought of the Kopkin, and her siblings and parents, all who exiled her. What was left for Daress? Then she thought of books. She thought of fire. She thought of hope.

"No," she replied, although she couldn't speak. "I don’t want it to end."

Is it not better? To die. Alone.

"Not yet. Please."

Then I will help you. But you must let me. Will you let me in?

She wanted to live, but she didn't understand what they asked of her. "Who are you?"

I don’t understand. Will you let me in?

"What do you want from me?"

I am hungry. Will you let me in?

Her time was running out. Daress could feel herself losing consciousness. She hadn’t the energy to push herself to the surface again. Everything was black, outside of this light. It was that hope that held her to life.

And so she said yes.

The light was gone.

Daress swam up, but she didn't know how. Her legs and arms worked together in unison and she broke the surface. She pushed the waves with her arms. Hauling herself over the rim by hooking her limbs over the side, she dragged herself out. She threw up the water caught in her gut, and gasped for air. Her throat burned. She crawled on the wet floor in the dark.

Her shawl was missing. Her sandals were missing. She was wanting. She felt watched.

She was too terrified by what had happened to think clearly. She was overcome by a strong frustration and fury. She burst into tears and struck at the ground with the sides of her fists with the little energy she had.

She had lived. Thank Crown she had lived. But no one would have cared, would they? She lived but she had no one to tell. She had nearly died, but she was all alone.

But… her tears slowed to a stop. That wasn’t true now, was it?

She didn’t know what it was that had helped her. But she had let it in. She didn’t know what that meant, only that it was still there. She clutched at her heart. She tried to calm her breathing. Sense if there was something different.

Daress.

She pulled herself up with a bench to hold onto. She tried to think rationally. She wouldn’t move until she thought this through. This could be one of those evil spirits she had read about. It had helped her survive, and she was grateful for that, but she would not abide becoming a puppet to such a thing. She was thankful that she had the means to dispose of it in her room.

Go back to bed.

She would have to make her way in the dark. At least there were not any change in direction. It was simply straight ahead out of the room, through the cubby room and into the staircase. She could do that without her sight.

But a hunger was growing in her. It wasn’t for food, she couldn’t imagine eating now. But she wanted something, and it gnawed at her heart and mind. An itch she couldn’t understand.

Her feet caked in mud, she moved through the wet cubby room, dragging her feet past the rustling rats. She traversed the stairs in soaking nightgown like a ghoul. Her body shook the entire way, but her heavy limbs obeyed.

It was almost dawn that she was back to her room. She shut the door, stripped off her wet clothes and turned on her tap, filling it with clean hot water. A washcloth rubbed away all the salt and mud from her skin and hair. She did all this in the darkness. She couldn’t trust herself with the matches right now. Her hands were too shaky, and her heart was too desperate.

She scrubbed at her skin until the shaking stopped. Then she wrapped herself up in a towel. She dried as much as she could, and then crawled into bed.

She felt like something was there with her. Despite her suspicions, in that moment, something about their presence was deeply comforting.

And it was then, that finally, finally, Daress slept.