Consumed. It was a strange word to use when describing possession, but perhaps accurate. Lavellan thought of Cole and wondered, not for the first time, whether their fear of spirits was fundamentally distorted or justified. Maybe the Anders that existed before was indeed lost. It wasn’t his place to say.
But the elf was already shaking his head. What numbers his people had were already too few, and he couldn’t stomach the thought of cutting anyone else down. Many would be caught in the crossfire. "We just ended the war between the mages and templars. We don’t need another one." Though the second option was unappealing, too, and he looked it. "I don’t want to kill him if there’s another way. Any way. I have to try talking to him first."
Hawke’s friends, wherever they were now, might find themselves involved regardless. He sighed. "I’ll have to send word to Merrill, whatever happens. This … person is someone she knows, too. We’ll have to alert as many clans of the danger as we can before he finds them." Mythal, he was getting a headache. He’d have to rummage around for more elfroot later.