Dear B,

I fed the birds again this morning, but the big blue one with the long tail feathers that you like so much wasn't around. I tried to call it repeatedly and waited as long as I could before I was forced back inside quite hard-handedly. Dayl is gone, you remember him don't you? He was assigned the night-shift on top the walls, I barely ever see him anymore. A lot of the familiar faces are gone now, those that took their place never speak a word if not scoffed or shouted.

New apprentices are due to arrive today and they've assigned me to the younger of the two. Twins, it is whispered they were taken from a small village not too far from Ostwick. I wonder how old they are, the poor nugs. Their family was reported to the Chantry by the local butcher who'd claimed they had possessed his livestock. Of all the silly things, honestly!
It seems like everyone is affected by the unrest more and more, so afraid now they see magic and apostates at work everywhere. Really, it's circumstantial the family was indeed harboring those born into magic; they could just as well have been perfectly normal children.

The atmosphere is heavy here of late; I hear whispers in the halls. I sometimes see people scurrying off to dark corners, but I can never quite catch what they're saying and I am never invited to join. Vigilant in avoiding eavesdropping Templars I suppose, I fear something is afoot and I'm not keen on finding out what that is. We've been under fierce scrutiny by the Templars; we can barely move two feet without one following us through the hallways. I long for my morning walks where I can feel the sun on my skin and feed the birds like we always did but even those moments are now more frequently and typically quite roughly disrupted. This place is stifling.

I'd right forgotten but I have to attend to my preparations still. I'll write again soon.
C.

Cass threw her pillows across the room, shortly followed by her blanket which inadvertently took a water-goblet down with it, clanging on the floor so loud it made her visibly cringe. She froze for a full minute, wary someone would valiantly charge in to rescue her from her own clumsiness but all stayed quiet in the corridor beyond the heavy door. Grabbing the mattress she pulled it over the foot of the bed, exposing its wooden frame.
Nothing.
She sank down on the ground and let out a shaky sigh. She religiously kept them in the same spot whenever she'd return to the keep and couldn't have misplaced them. She peered through the bed-frame, checking under the bed but there was nothing there. Crawling on all fours she was checking under all the furniture when her door was swung open.

"What the dust are you doing on the floor, C? Don't get me wrong, you have a fine rear but it's most definitely a curious sight", Varric mused as he stared at her quizzically and stepped further into the room. "Planning on redecorating?"

Cass promptly planted her ass on the ground and looked up at him, slightly annoyed and with a faint stutter she said "I _ yes, redecorating. Exactly so. Did you need something?"

"I'm coming with you tomorrow, I have business in Crestwood".
Since she now knew it was nothing too pressing she was visibly no longer paying attention to what he was actually saying. He seemed to understand and took his leave before she gave him an answer. Not that he had really been looking for one.

"Sure sure", she murmured to the now closed door. She could hear him softly cackling as he walked away.

Dear B,

The unimaginable happened, although saying that I suppose we knew it was coming all along.
About a week ago I was in my quarters copying some scrolls when there was a deafening roar. It made the tower shake so violently I was knocked out cold. When I came to I was bleeding, my vision was blurry and part of my quarters were on fire. I have no idea how long I was unconscious for but I vividly remember there being smoke everywhere making it tough to breathe and see. By ways of a miracle I managed to salvage your letters from the flames and tugged them in my robes. I didn't have opportunity to really overthink the situation as the flames were steadily spreading, I had to leave.
As I was exiting my quarters, two Templars charged past me and straight into a group of fellow mages close by, striking two of them down outright while a third slit their palm and started casting a spell. I didn't hang around to see which but turned on my heels and ran in the opposite direction.

The library was in shambles. I found my charge in a corner splayed across the floor and partly covered by a large bookcase, his eyes rolled back into his skull and his hands unnaturally contorted. There was blood everywhere, some undoubtedly my own; it was in my hair and on my robes, dripping onto the floor where I stood but most of it was his, spreading rapidly from under the bookcase, painting pages of the scattered tomes nearby a deep crimson.
Such a feeling of dread came over me then; I think I must have screamed. I know I fell to my knees and sat just staring at him for a while but honestly, I can't rightly recall the full of it. I know I eventually got up and headed for the closest exit though when I registered the sound of clanging metal and agonized screaming coming from beyond those main doors, I reeled back and looked for an alternate exit. I almost crashed into another Templar, who was just about to run through the same door from the opposite side. I managed to evade his swinging sword when a flurry of debris was flung in our direction by a mage in a larger group across the corridor, breaching the tower wall.
The Templar, directly hit, let out a cry and geared up to slash at me once more. In a panic I reactively pushed him through the hole in the outer wall, noticing too late that he managed to grab hold of my robes. I don't think I'll ever forget that moment, my initial fear and panic quickly replaced by what felt like intense relief as I fell down the towers length, the Templar frantically clawing at me. I could see him start a scream but no sound came out and he unceremoniously hit the grass with a thud.

I don't remember hitting ground but when I came to I found myself spread partially on top of his broken body, racked with pain. I could still stand and walk and so I ran. I ran, hearing the sounds of screaming slowly die down, until I heard nothing at all bar the sound of my own feet drumming across the damp soil. I kept running still and when I could no more I stopped at a small, seemingly abandoned hut. I tried to heal myself then and even though my pool was near depleted I managed to stop the bleeding and partially mend the break in my arm.

A week has passed now, I'm still healing. Trying to decide what I should do, where I should go from here. I'm a bit lost to be honest; I don't know these woods. I think I'll just flip a coin and head in a direction. What does it matter anyways?

Wish you were here, you'd know what to do. Miss you.
C

Maybe someone had found them and was reading them right now. No. No, who would do such a thing?
She pulled the bed away from the wall now, moved her mirror, checked under her dresser. She frantically pulled her clothes out of the drawers, dropping them in a circle around her. Tears welled up in her eyes and she angrily wiped her nose on her sleeve as she sank to the ground.

Sitting there she stared into nothingness for a good while just trying to mind her breathing in an effort to regain control over her emotions. As she got back up her eye fell on the heavy curtains. They were too long and dragged over the floor opening and closing them. Looking at them more intently she noticed something brown sticking out from underneath. She shot up to reach for it, finding her treasured letters hidden underneath the heavy fabric. She started crying freely now, locking her treasure in a death-grip against her bosom. Once she calmed down and the tears stopped flowing, she pulled the bottom letter out of the package and started reading it for the first time since she'd written it all those years ago.

I don't know how this is supposed to work Bae, I've never felt comfortable putting my feelings on paper, expressing them openly at all if I'm being completely honest. I remember you telling me it worked so well for you, how writing to your mother made you feel less isolated, not as alone in the circle. Honestly, I always thought it was a bizarre thing to do and didn't understand but I never said anything. I didn't want to hurt your feelings and risk taking it away from you. Maybe I was jealous that you felt you had a bond with someone strong enough to comfortably write to, regardless of whether your letters would actually reach them. I think I just feel too betrayed to; I had you and that was enough. You and me Bae, you know I care about anybody else as little as they care about me. Shunning me through their mistrust of my family's name, the connections they fear I have with the Chantry, calling me a 'Templar sympathizer'. They never gave me a chance and now, I don't even want them to anymore.

I couldn't sleep the night of your Harrowing, I just kept wondering what they'd have you do, how it would be. I was convinced though that you'd make it, hands tied behind your back whatever they would throw at you. You'd be fine and the next morning I'd congratulate you and joke around trying to pry information from you.
On way to our spot I began hearing the whispers. "Struck down", "heartless Templars", "she took too long to return". I went directly to the First enchanter and straight up asked him, he confirmed it. You were struck down, dead.

The one thing I cared about in this forsaken place, violently ripped from me, leaving this gaping hole I'm sure will never stop hurting. I feel so much anger Bae, I just don't know what to do with myself. I can't look at them anymore, any of them. Every time they so much as whisper your name, rage just bubbles up inside me and I can barely control myself. I wonder which Templar it was, I tried to find out but nobody would tell me, nobody knew. Probably for the best because yesterday, I kid you not, I nearly electrocuted someone. I feel so adrift, I miss you every day.

Maker this is weird. From not knowing how to start to just having it flow out of my pen like this. Now I feel awkward. Maybe you had the right idea all along though, I might even try this again.

Love you
C.