Author's Note: This is an AU of my other Modern Girl in Thedas story, The Spirit Girl—Banal nadas. Reading said story isn't necessary, but recommended. Everything that occurs in that story should be considered canon for this one.

This story features a character who has been trapped in a time loop for quite a long time. As a result, her general behavior might come across as off-putting and/or nonsensical. Context for said behavior should become clearer throughout the course of the narrative.

Finally, this story is a bit cracky, in the way that all stories featuring a mildly unhinged character are cracky. Gratuitous music and pop culture references abound.

Chapter 1: Dramatic Entrance—Check.

She hums to herself, strolling toward the gates to Haven. She watches Cole's signature hat flicker around the group of Templars, silent but for the grunts he slices out of them.

One, two, three, four—

She ducks under the swipe of a sword, grasping the armored arm and using the momentum of the swing to force his strike upward. Her dagger slips into her hand and she jerks the blade through the gap in his armor, listening to his sword clatter to the snow behind her. She twirls behind him before he can grab her with his other arm, wrenching the injured appendage into a harsh angle. His howl of pain ends with her blade dragging through his neck. She drops the body and slips her dagger back into place.

Five, six—

"You!" Cullen shouts, brandishing his sword at her. She stops humming and takes a step forward. "Halt!" She does. "State your business!"

"I'm here to warn you." She takes another step forward, holding her empty hands aloft when Cullen jerks his sword toward her.

"Do you know her?" the Inquisitor demands. "Is she with you?"

"No." Cole frowns, tilting his head as he stares at her. She wiggles her fingers back. "I don't know her."

"I'm not here to warn you about the Templars."

"No? Then why are you here?" The Inquisitor takes a step closer. "Speak quickly."

"There is a dragon coming."

"A dragon?" Cullen scoffs. "You expect us to believe—"

"I expect," she steps forward, keeping her gaze locked on the Inquisitor even as Cullen aims his sword at her gut, "that you will have many needless casualties haunting your conscience if you don't heed my warning and get the townspeople into the safety of the Chantry immediately."

"Why would—"

"Because Play-doh face up there," she hooks a thumb behind her, "likes to play pretend. He wants you," she gestures at their confused faces, "to believe he's having regular tea parties with an Archdemon. Not," she stresses at the horrified look that brings to their faces, "an Archdemon, though. Just a dragon." She clears her throat. "A dragon who's going to set fire to Haven."

They stare at each other for a long moment. She keeps her hands raised.

"Cullen, make the call."

"You can't be serious," Cullen protests, though he lowers his blade. "She could be a spy."

"A spy who fought her way to the wrong side of an army of Templars?" the Inquisitor asks. "Doubtful. In any case, the Chantry is the most secure and defensible building in Haven."

Cullen nods, turning to rally his troops and the mages in turn, urging them to usher any civilians they come across to the Chantry.

She begins striding toward the blacksmith.

Seven, eight—

"Wait! What's your name?" She pauses in her steps, staring at the hand on her arm.

"Helena," she says, looking into familiar violet eyes. "My name is Helena."

...