***NOTE
This story is my attempt to continue the story, going off of the hunch that I had the first time I finished the game. There will be SPOILERS for the end of DA:I. I work with one of the popular theories about what happened with Solas and Mythal and the Dread Wolf thing. The side I chose might be the less popular of the two theories, but it was my first instinct, so I am going with it. Hopefully this will tide us over until we get our DLC or a new game :)
Enjoy, gentle readers.

Chapter 1 edited 12/18/14***

The New Ways of Old Gods

Part 1: Spirit

"The failure was mine. I should pay the price...but the people...they need me. I am so sorry."

"I am sorry as well, old friend."

She clawed her way into his flesh like smoke into a dying man's lungs. She ripped him free like an old rag and tossed him aside. He felt himself failing. Bits of him being eaten away by her superior power. This was what he deserved. This was all that waited. The people needed him, but they needed her more. He awaited nothingness as she burned him away to take his place.

Blackness was all he knew for a time, before he was able to open his eyes. Not dead. Not burned away. If he had been thinking. If he had not been filled with panic as he looked on the visage of his god with failure in his eyes, he might have guessed he would survive. But what was he now? What remained when everything else was stripped away?

Astlyr leaned back in her chair. She was supposed to be working, but paperwork was never her strength no matter how much Josie prodded and cajoled. Especially now, with Coryphius defeated and the Inquisition helping to rebuild. There seemed to be little for a warrior to do. When your resume mostly consisted of different methods of separating a man from his organs, it felt like there wasn't much to do now that there was no one to disembowel.

Her eyes kept wandering to the window and the sky beyond. So temptingly blue. Out there somewhere dragons were flying unmolested and unslain by her. She felt her hand twitch, remembering the icy prickling of the mark on her hand. Now no green tear scarred the sky, and her mark had not done anything but look like a bad tattoo since her day of victory against Coryphious. Usually she kept the hand gloved in public to avoid people from grabbing her arm and insisting on seeing it.

"Astlyr!"

"Fuck!" she dropped quill she had been holding. She spun around to face the young man who had appeared in her room. "Cole! What have I told you about doing that? I could have been naked or something."

"Have to come," he ignored her words, reaching out both hands to her like a child trying to lead a caregiver. "He's lost, and hurting, and he won't let me help him! He just kept asking for you. I have to bring you."

"Whoa, whoa," Astlyr stood, making gentling motions with her hands. The spirit was more agitated than she had seen him in a long time. "What's wrong, Cole? Slow down."

"I found him beside the wall. He fell and he wants you! Please come!" he reached for her again, lacing slender fingers through hers with urgency.

"Alright, alright," she said, knowing that whatever he was talking about she had better go with him. The situation was obviously serious.

There was a whoosh and her hands felt icy as a cold wind blew in her face and the spirit boy vanished. "Cole!" Astlyr shouted to the air, "I can't just teleport places. We've been over this!"

Cole reappeared, tilting his chin up so she could see his sad eyes under the brim of his hat. "I am sorry. Come, I will show you!" he grasped her hand again and led her.

She felt rather foolish as she was dragged through Skyhold's main hall. Varric raised an eyebrow as they passed. He was sitting at his desk, obviously working on his latest novel. Perhaps even the tale of how they had repaired a tattered sky and saved the world. She gave him a rueful smile and an expressive shrug as she was led on.

They went down past the markets, which were thriving more than ever as people came, eager to see Skyhold and to buy souvenirs. It seemed that the fortress was now the favorite tourist location in Thedas. Cole led on. His hands were chilly and they did not warm as she held them. His skin seemed to repel warmth, yet she smiled slightly at his determined stride. She was fond of the odd young man. Young spirit? Whichever.

"Here. He's here!" Cole dropped to his knees beside the wall at the end of the stables. Astlyr leaned over to see. Nestled in a tuft of grass against the stone was a small, brown bird of prey. It was bedraggled with many feathers out of place. It was scrawny, and only one dark eye watched her, the other reduced to a glassy grey.

"A bird?" Astlyr asked. "Cole...couldn't you have brought it to the healer?" She looked the creature over and she was doubtful that a healer would have helped. It was obvious this creature had one talon in the grave.

"Not a bird," Cole's voice was anguished. He reached out and touched the little falcon with his fingertips and his body stiffened. Astlyr knew this well. Cole could read other people's pain, and could express it to those around him. The healer sometimes used him to diagnose unconscious wounded, though he was also adept at sensing emotional pain. She waited to see what he would say. "She comes to me with hands like knives, and I am sorry, I am sorry, I am so...I was wrong! I made a mistake! Yes. I deserve this. Take my life away...then she reaches inside me, steals me, empties me!" Cole gasped, staggering back.

"Cole!" Astlyr caught his shoulders. She had never seen this reaction from him.

He whimpered, "This isn't right. He isn't right! He's lost. Doesn't belong. Wants you. Won't let me help. Burning, biting, barren loss," he slumped against her grip and she held him more firmly.

"Easy, Cole. What do you mean? Is this creature a spirit? How does it know me?"

Cole seemed dazed, so she made him sit in the grass and then approached the bird herself. For a moment it was so still she thought it had died. Then it twitched and looked at her with its one good eye. "Hello," she spoke softly, kneeling down beside it "are you a spirit? Did I meet you in the fade? Is that why you're asking for me? How can I help you, little friend?" Cole made another whimpering sound and began rocking forward and back. "You're worrying my friend over there," she said, still using a kind tone, "Could I pick you up and take you somewhere safer?"

The bird blinked at her so she took that as a 'yes' and slid her fingers under it. She expected to feel its little heart beating against her hands, but didn't. Definitely a spirit, she decided. "Come on now, little friend. It'll be alright," she soothed, gently smoothing a bent feather with her finger. Green light appeared on her hand and a familiar prickling, stinging began. Holding the bird in one hand she turned the other over to see her mark was faintly aglow. She took in a sharp breath, "you must be a spirit. The mark is reacting to you."

The bird seemed to summon its strength and nipped her palm where it shone with green light. "Hey," she scolded, though gently, "that's not a very nice way to say thank you. Cole, are you alright? Can you come with me back to the hold?"

The boy stood up, though he still managed to look more pathetic than usual. He hugged himself as he followed her back to the keep proper. People stared at the odd threesome. Someone pointed "it's the Inquisitor!"

"Maker's balls," grumbled Astlyr, rolling her eyes and walking faster. "The Inquisitor is busy right now," she shouted over her shoulder as she made for the stairs at a walk so brisk a dwarf might have to sprint to keep up.

"New pet?"

Damn Varric and his sharp eyes, she smiled to herself as she entered the keep and was greeted by her friend. "Not exactly," she said, slowing her pace to allow him to catch up. Cole blinked into existence a little ahead of them, watching the bird with intense concern. "I'm pretty sure it is a spirit. Cole found it and he says it's not a bird. Then when I picked it up my hand starting glowing again."

"Sounds like a spirit alright," agreed Varric, keeping stride with her. He obviously intended to find out more as well.

In Astlyr's room she dumped out a basket of papers and made a nest inside it from blankets and pillows. Then she set the little creature in it. It looked up at the three with its one eye and clacked its beak a few times. "Alright," Astlyr leaned back, folding her arms. "Now what?"

"Should I get a mage? The healer?" Varric asked, scrutinizing the bird.

"Maybe," Astlyr said. "Who is still in Skyhold?"

"Dorian," the dwarf replied, rubbing his chin with a gloved hand.

"Let me try again," said Cole in a quiet voice. "I want to see..."

"Are you sure?" Astlyr turned to the young man whose face was turned down, obscured by his hat. "The last time he did his pain sharing thing with this bird it wasn't like it normally is," Astlyr explained to Varric, who had raised an eyebrow. "It seemed like it wore Cole out to do it."

"I want to try again," the spirit boy said, firmly.

"Go easy, kid," Varric said, stepping aside to allow Cole access to their new charge.

The bird seemed to sit up slightly, as though it knew what Cole was going to try to do.

The boy rested his fingers delicately on the bird's folded and bedraggled wings. Astlyr wondered at this. Normally Cole did not need to touch someone to feel their pain or sorrow.

Cole's head snapped back, his eyes wide and Astlyr had to struggle to keep herself from rushing instantly to his side to pull his hands away. "I have done something very wrong! I have displeased her, I have endangered everything! I cannot go back, I cannot make it well again. I will let her take what was mine and push me away into nothing. Then I will fade, as before. I cannot go where I am not welcome...but the dead are always willing. Have to try. Have to find her! The one from before, with hand of green and eyes of friendship...the wind bites me and I am buffeted, but I will find her. Lead her back to the place of my shame! I am so alone. So-" Cole jerked his hands away and moaned, holding his head. "It's too much for me!" he said, his voice tight. "He's more than what he seems. I c- I can't."

"Take it easy, kid," Varric strode forward and placed a hand on Cole's back. "It's alright. You did a good job."

"I know what it wants," the boy muttered, sitting down on Astlyr's bed. He tucked up his legs to sit cross legged.

Astlyr sat down beside him, resisting the urge to put her arm around his thin shoulders. She knew this would make him uncomfortable, and make her own pains easier for him to sense. She didn't want to distract him. This whole situation needed to be sorted. Even she could feel the sense of something too large to be the spirit of a bird. "What does it want, Cole?"

"It wants...it wants not to be a bird." the boy looked up at her with his desperately sad eyes. The kind that made you want to hug him, if you didn't know that he usually looked like that.

"Fair enough," Astlyr said, looked down at the little creature in the basket. "It's a spirit right? So it can inhabit something else."

"Needs to be willing," muttered Cole.

"It said the dead were always willing. Is this a dead bird?" Varric gestured to the pathetic animal.

"Possibly," Astlyr nodded. "But how did this spirit come to our world? It did something wrong and angered someone...someone female by the sound of it. Do spirits have mothers? Ugh. I wish Solas was here. We have no idea what we're talking about with all this spirit nonsense."

The bird seemed to agree, clacking its beak expressively.

"So it wants a new body. Maybe one that isn't a dead animal," Varric folded his arms. "Anything else?"

Cole had a look of concentration on his face. "I could see pictures this time. I don't always see pictures. I saw...a woman. She was angry, but I think she was sad too."

"Probably the woman he was talking about. The one who took something of his." Astlyr sighed. "Maybe we should get Dorian. This is all too confusing for me." The bird made a soft peeping sound. "Was that a yes or a no?" she asked it.

"I'll get him," Cole puffed out of sight with a small tuft of greyish smoke.

"Cole, don't startle him," Astlyr called uselessly to the air, "we've talked about this!"

While they waited Varric and Astlyr scrutinized their new feathered friend, who gave as good as he got with his one remaining eye. Finally Astlyr felt unsettled and had to look away. "The strangest things happen to me, don't they?" she asked, glancing down at her hand where the green mark was once again dormant.

"They do seem to," Varric agreed, folding his arms.

"Alright, what in the Maker's name is the lad on about?" Dorian sounded annoyed as he strode into the room. He took in Astlyr, Varric, and their unusual guest as Cole reappeared looking satisfied. "So he wasn't just rambling nonsense," the mage raised an eyebrow, "You really do have a bird-thing in here. I hope it doesn't give you fleas."

"It's a spirit that has inhabited a bird," Astlyr explained. "A dead bird by the look of it. We were hoping that as a mage, you might have come insight. Cole did his...pain sharing whatever he does with it, and it seems to have been very determined to find me specifically."

"The strangest things happen to you, don't they?" Dorian said as he knelt beside the bird in the basket. He stroked its head with a finger and the creature closed its eyes with apparent enjoyment. Astlyr and Varric shot one another a quick smile. Dorian waved his hand in the air over the bird and even someone as far removed from magic as the qunari could feel it prickle her skin. Dorian squinted as white light coiled around his fingers, then purple mixed in. The bird sat quite still, its only movement the occasional slow blink.

Finally the mage sat back on his heels. "Well?" Astlyr asked.

"It is my professional opinion as a necromancer that this bird is indeed deceased. Was there anything else you wanted me for?"

"So you couldn't get anything from it?" Varric asked, eyebrow raised.

"I may be a mage, but I am far from an expert of spirits and the fade," Dorian admitted, rubbing his hand on the beck of his neck and standing up. He kicked the kinks out of his legs from crouching. "You're sure this little spirit is anything special?"

"Special? Yes." Cole spoke. He was sitting on the window sill, one leg tucked up under him.

"So what the hell do we do with it now?" Varric wondered. "It said it wanted to find you, and it found you. What next?"

"Cole mentioned something about it wanting to go back to the place of its shame," Astlyr said, uncertain.

The bird clacked its beak at her and blinked.

"So we do what? Take the pidgeon to the big map in the war room and let it point out where it wants to go?" Varric questioned in a sarcastic tone.

"Actually, that might not be a bad idea," Astlyr said. "If we brought you to a map, would that help you?" she leaned over the small creature. It looked blankly back. She pursed her lips and scratched her brow below a horn.

"Worth a try," Dorian shrugged. "I'm curious now too."

"Alright then," Astlyr picked up the basket and set it on her hip, "the adventure continues."

The odd procession following the qunari with a bird made their way across to the war room. Luckily, Josie was not at her desk, Astlyr thought as they passed. She wasn't eager to explained her expedition to more people. Her relief was short lived as Dorian opened the war room door for her and Cullen was inside. He looked up as the group entered, confusion and surprise mingling on his face. Even more so when Cole joined them by once again simply appearing in the room.

"Varric," Astlyr said, impatiently as she set the basket down and gently lifted the animal from it.

Taking his cue the dwarf explained the situation to the baffled commander as Astlyr set the bedraggled falcon onto the map, which was still spread over the great, oaken table. "If I wasn't seeing this right in front of my eyes I would assume it was one of your tales, Varric," the man said, watching the goings on with interest.

Under the scrutiny of the odd assemblage the bird sat quite still for a moment. Then it gave a pathetic flap of a wing, and it began move about. The motion could best be described as flopping. It failed, paused and seemed to look around at the map, head tilted so its good eye could see. It knocked over several little icons on the map, which made Cullen wince, but he said nothing. Finally, after a good deal of flopping, the bird lay still, one wing twisted at on odd angle, but it had plunged its beak into a point on the map.

The group leaned in as one and Cullen almost put his eye out on one of Astlyr's horns in the process. "Isn't that...?" Varric squinted.

"It is," Astlyr answered, gently scooping the falcon into a more comfortable position. "It's the Temple of Sacred Ashes...or what's left of it. To be honest I was hoping I had seen the last of that place."

"You're not alone there," Varric grumbled.

"This little spirit was at the Temple?" Dorian raised an eyebrow.

"It's possible. The Fade was torn open after all," Astlyr said, scrutinizing the map.

Abruptly Cole began weeping. He curled into a ball, holding his knees as he sobbed. Astlyr gasped and they all rushed to the boy's side. She didn't stop herself this time, but wrapped him in her strong arms. He nestled against her shoulder, wetting it with tears that were startlingly cold as they soaked through her tunic. His hat tumbled off. "Maker's breath, what's wrong?" Cullen asked in a soft voice, squatting beside Astlyr with concern written on his face.

"I have no idea," Astlyr said as Cole's fingers grasped her sleeve and pulled tightly. She was a little worried he was going to rip her favorite tunic.

The boy mumbled something unintelligible into Astlyr's shoulder. She tried to pry him away from herself as carefully as possible, but he clung like a limpet. She was completely baffled, and beginning to feel uncomfortable. While her first instinct was always to reach out, she had never been good with people's strong emotions, and Cole seemed to be all emotion. Between the boy's wracking sobs she could hear the bird making peeping sounds from the table. On a hunch she gathered Cole into her arms and lifted him easily. He weighed less than she might have expected from someone who appeared human, and she was strong. She carried him out of the room.

She had to take him all the way to the main hall before he would stop. This he did rather abruptly and let got of her shirt. She set him down hurriedly. He wiped his eyes and sniffed. Asltyr tried not to think about the large patch of mingled snot and tears on her chest.

Dorian, who had followed them, passed the boy a handkerchief, "Here you are young fellow. Now...will someone please tell me what that was all about?"

Cole examined the handkerchief, "father says I can have this. I've just fallen and my nose is bleeding, so he holds this to my face. Then he says I can keep it, but he tousles my hair and walks away and I don't want the handkerchief, I want more comfort from him."

"Alright, I'll have that back now," Dorian plucked the cloth from the spirit boy's hands, looking thoroughly embarrassed.

"Was it the bird that made you cry, Cole?" Astlyr asked, bending down to look in his eyes, aware that some of the people in the hall were watching them, a little expectantly.

"Yes," Cole sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "He was so sad. He did something very bad and now something even worse is going to happen and he is worried...frightened for his people."

"What the hell does that even mean?" Varric walked up behind them, eying Cole.

"You've felt sadness before," Astlyr pointed out. "You've felt people dying, but I have never seen you cry. Not once."

Cole hugged himself, "his sadness is different. Its so big. Like it fills up the whole room. Fills up the whole world."

"So we might be dealing with something a little more intimidating than a small spirit," Dorian folded his arms. "Wonderful."

"He's pointing to something else!" Cullen called from the war room.

The group turned to go back inside, Astlyr glanced at Cole, "maybe you should stay out here," she suggested. He nodded, looking glum, which she had to remind herself was normal for him.

Back in the war room the bird had flopped over to another point on the map. "The temple of Mythal?" Astlyr squinted at the point where the bird had plunged its little beak.

"So where do we go? The temple of Mythal or Sacred Ashes?" asked Varric.

"We go?" Astlyr raised an eyebrow.

"There is no way we're not going with you after all this," Dorian was wearing a coy smirk.

A tapping sound caught all of their attention. The bird was striking its hooked beak again and again in the spot which indicated the Temple of Mythal. Astlyr folded her arms. "Seems we are going there first." It was a struggle to say that with seriousness. She was about to go on a quest to an elven temple at the instruction of a dead bird.

"Well, we won't be going tonight," Cullen glanced at the tall window. The sun was well on its way to setting behind the mountains.

Astlyr scooped up the bird and set it back in its basket. "I'll put this little fellow in my room for the night."

Later she and her friends gathered for dinner (sans Cole, who didn't eat) in the Skyhold tavern. Iron Bull joined them with his crew, as well as Cassandra, but Astlyer and her group didn't mention the bird situation. There was a silent agreement between them that until they figured out what was going on they would keep it to themselves.

Sera appeared with some cookies for them all to try. They were terrible, but Astlyr managed three, counting on her superior Qunari constitution. A quick game of Wicked Grace was played, which Astlyr almost won before Varric skillfully swept the victory away from her. She was feeling pretty good as she made her way up to her room.

The bird was still in its basket, its eyes shining in the waning light of the fire she had set it in front of. She knelt to prod the fire back into life and glanced at the small creature. "You make Cole cry," she said, her dark brows coming together. "You're more than what you seem to be, but I can't figure out what. I feel like I should remember you. Maybe from one of my Fade walks." The bird made a soft peep and picked at its blankets with its beak. "Why did you leave the Fade? Why inhabit a dead bird? Do you want to go back to the Fade? I can help you get back." she held out her marked hand, palm up. The bird butted his head against her fingers. She gave it a little scratch on its forehead, which it seemed to enjoy. "Ah well. I suppose we'll find out in the morning." she sighed. She was about to change into her night attire, then turned and put a thin blanket over the bird so he wouldn't watch, almost laughing at herself as she did so.

After changing she built up the fire one last time. The weather was starting to turn here in the mountains. Winter was heading steadily their way. She tugged the blanket off of her new friend, who seemed to awkwardly snuggle into its new nest.

Astlyr crawled into bed and fell asleep easily.

She was dreaming, and she knew she was dreaming. This was new. The world around her was green, but not with plant life. Instead it was the unnatural, sickly, emerald light of The Fade. She gritted her teeth. She had come to hate The Fade, even though she knew her body was safely tucked away in her bed this time. Distantly she heard a roar, and she had fought enough dragons to know what it was. It seemed to be at a safe distance, but she knew how The Fade worked. She moved to seek cover behind a floating boulder. Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She spun, her hand straying to where a sword should have been. Instead she realized she was wearing garb she had never seen before. She didn't have time to ponder the wardrobe change as a dark creature slunk from the shadow of a hill shaped like a face.

It was a wolf. Black as jet, with blue eyes like twin jewels set in an angular face. It was a smallish wolf, she noticed, and he was alone, or at least he seemed to be. He also looked underfed. He lifted his head, ears pricked, watching her with an intensity she wasn't sure she liked. Somewhere the dragon roared again and the wolf looked and sniffed the air. Seemingly satisfied he fixed his gaze back on her. "So what now?" she asked.

The wolf padded towards her, bright eyes shining. She was torn between approaching him and moving to a more defensible position. She even admitted to herself that she felt a little bit like petting him. He looked surprisingly soft. Finally she decided, and took a knee, reaching out towards him. Here in The Fade the anchor on her hand glowed. The wolf reached his tapered nose forward and touched her fingertips.

Astlyr woke with a start, sitting bolt upright. Her hand was throbbing and shining with green light. The pain and brightness faded almost at once, and as she blinked in the semi-dark she suddenly uncertain that she had felt it at all. Then she saw a glowing orb across the room and she jumped before she realized that it was the single eye of the bird staring at her. She shuddered under its intense gaze, "Stop that. It's creepy."

The bird didn't stop staring. Astlyr groaned, rolled out of bed, and put the blanket back over the top of the unnerving creature. Then she toppled back onto her mattress and fell asleep, though she no longer dreamed.

****NOTE

If this tale intrigues you, let me know. It will encourage me to continue! if I have horribly mangled any of the lore, etc, please feel free to let me know too. Thanks for reading
(I will likely update about once a week, possibly every other depending on the business level of my life)
New chapter coming: 12/18/14***