Cullen, Day 1
A traveler was strewn on the floor, in the middle of a hand-drawn circle. Runes, elven language perhaps, pulsed on the edges, as if it were underwater. The traveler's hand was splayed open wide, where a hot green light spilled from his fingertips. It looked to Cullen like an explosion, held back by an invisible barrier, slowly, slowly, burning out. The traveler himself looked pained, struggling to remain unconscious.
"You do not need to be here," said the apostate. He sat cross-legged beside the traveler, holding his staff across his lap as the stone glowed hotly.
Cullen disregarded him, though he felt immense trepidation by standing so close to the magic. "What kind of magic is this?"
"An advanced containment spell. Keeping that magic from tearing her, and likely all of Haven, apart."
Cullen's face tightened in disgust, resonating deep into his core. "You'd better make sure of it, apostate."
"And yet here you are distracting me," he quipped, not looking away once.
Cullen left quickly after that, burning for his sword. He took a calming breath and made his way back to the war room to discuss what to do next. The truth was, there was little they could do until the prisoner work. He-…she, would hopefully be able to answer their questions.
Lavellen, Day 1
The young woman stared into her lap through half-lidded eyes, seated heavily on a tough stone floor. Guards surrounded her, well-armed but at relative ease. Her eyes darted back and forth, trying to count their numbers without giving away her consciousness. Again, she woke to an unfavorable situation, but a repetitive one. Shackles and soldiers. She would find a way out like she'd done before. Patience and deft hands were her best weapons, even though she would have greatly preferred daggers.
Her left hand began to burn and itch, as if a spider had bitten down on it, and she cringed away from the sharp pain. She twisted her wrist and opened her fingers- and a spark of emerald green flared from her skin, illuminating the room, and reflecting in the drawn blades.
The doors before her opened inwards, and a group of women and men marched inside. A tall warrior circled the prisoner, pausing to lean in towards her shoulder. She was greeted with the threat, "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now."
Patience, she reminded herself.
She stepped away, continuing to slowly pace. "The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except you."
The prisoner stared back, masking her horror with an indifferent, practiced expression. Dead? What in gods had happened?
"Explain this!" The warrior shouted, snatching the prisoner's wrist. Her hand pulsed sharply and flared green, before the warrior thrust it back down.
"I can't," the prisoner said stiffly, though urgently. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said.
The woman raised the blade threateningly. "What do you mean you can't?"
"I don't remember!" she shouted, lifting her bound hands upward. "I don't know what it is, or how it got there."
"You're lying!" The woman grabbed the prisoner's coat, reaching to the skin underneath with a fierce grip.
"Enough, Seeker," a man sternly shouted.
The prisoner swiveled her head to see a broad-shouldered human, clad in heavy armor. He looked away when her eyes caught his.
"He's right, Cassandra," said another woman, quickly pulling the warrior away. "We need her."
The second woman, red-haired and dressed in a chain-mail coat, looked back at the prisoner. "What do you remember? From the beginning." Her voice had more reason to it, but still the serious tone that demanded an answer the disoriented prisoner could not recall.
She closed her eyes a moment and tried. There were blurs of remembrance, and she grasped at them. "I…remember running."
Cullen, Day 2
Lelianna and Josephine pulled Cullen aside as Cassandra took the prisoner away. They were going to the forward camp to see the Conclave's destruction themselves. If that didn't jog the prisoner's memory, nothing would.
"What do you think?" the women asked him.
"About the prisoner?" Cullen clarified. "I think if she isn't executed for her crimes, the people of Haven will do it themselves."
"So you think she's guilty?"
Cullen crossed his arms, and stared up at the pulsing green of the Breach. "Is she a mage? Don't elves have more proficiency for magic?"
Josephine shook her head. "Not always, Commander. But I agree that it would take immense magic to commit this crime."
"She was found with daggers," Lelianna added.
For some reason, that reassured him. Not a mage. "That doesn't make her innocent," Cullen started. "But…I'm not ready to blame her for all of this."
"That's easier for you to say than some," Lelianna said bitterly.
Cullen put a hand on her shoulder, but it did not relax her. "I have to go." she hurried off, flanked by two more scouts that followed her up the narrow game trails to the Conclave.
"It will not be easy proving her innocence," Josephine said.
"If she is," Cullen corrected.
Hours later, soldiers returned to Haven, with news that the rift in the Conclave had been sealed. Cullen inquired about the prisoner, and his first reports claimed she had died in battle. One told her she had died trying to seal it, others said a stray arrow caught her in the neck. They were intricately detailed for being contrasting stories.
Eventually, long after the sun had gone down, the truth was carried back in Cassandra's arms. How tiny the prisoner looked then- her heavy winter layers pressed flat by Cassandra's grip. How silly Cullen felt for mistaking her for a man.
"She died, then?" Culled asked, jogging alongside Cassandra.
Cassandra shook her head firmly. "No, she did not. But she is exhausted." Cassandra slowed as they approached Haven. "She is innocent, Cullen. I saw it for myself. Divine Justinia was killed by a demon, and this- she…tried to save her." Cassandra's soft gaze steeled as she looked away from the woman in her arms. "She failed, clearly, but the destruction is not her's."
Again, Cullen felt relief. He slowed as Cassandra approached the healer's cabin. "How did she survive?"
"The mark, perhaps. That, for certain, is magic."
Cullen frowned again, narrowing his eyes to see the dull glow from the prisoner's limp hand. They had seen her use daggers, but could she still be a mage?
"Inform our people. She is not the enemy. She sealed the rift and agreed to ally herself with the Inquisition." Then, softly, Cassandra added, "I believe Andraste sent her to us, Cullen. In these terrible times, perhaps she was ushered forth by the Maker." Cassandra lifted her head and carried her inside. The door shut behind her, extinguishing the light, and leaving Cullen alone in the dark quiet.