Return To Kinloch Hold


Auriel's fingertips drifted along the cool stone of the wall for a matter of moments before the flesh melded with a sticky surface. Her dark brows arched in silent wonder as she brought the edge of her slender digits into her peripheral vision. Her features twisted into a look of utter confusion as dark crimson stained her fingers.

A soft whine beside of her threatened to rouse her from her current state but she refused to give in. She brought her fingers back along the bloodstained wall and continued her slow, deliberate pace up the stairs. Every step made her body ache that much more with exhaustion but she continued due to sheer determination.

As she opened the large wooden door to the upper quarters of The Circle Tower, a repulsive stench enveloped around her being. She would have…she should have shivered or grimaced as her blank stare drifted around the broken and quiet hallway but she had to admit that she obviously wasn't herself at the moment. Too many things had happened in the past few days, too many negative and horrifying things, for her mind to wrap around them completely. Instead of trying to sift through the pieces of her broken heart and gathering her strength to help the Circle, she decided to walk around the almost-empty tower a ghost of the former woman she once was. Her gaze saw little but blood and gore and her mind would only take on the simpliest of tasks. She wondered idly to herself if this was somewhat how Tranquils actually…felt.

A throbbing soreness in her feet dulled her thoughts as she took a few steps forward. Another whine sounded from the Mabari beside of her. The small frown on her lips deepened as she held her blood-spattered fingers barely away from her form. Ember, as she had lovingly named the warhound, brought his tounge out to lap tenderly at the digits in a sign of consolation. She sighed deeply as she stopped in front of a wooden bucket in the floor of the hallway. Her gaze drifted down to it for a long moment as she shook her head. Dark tresses spilled from their place atop her head and trickled into her line of vision. She swept them in an annoyed fashion behind her pointed ears and leaned down to study the bucket in with almost too much determination. It was a bucket like any other…except it stuck out like a sore thumb within the dirty hall. It was filled with cool and clean water almost to the edge. An unsoiled rag drifted lazily in the liquid. Auriel didn't know whos it was, or who brought it this far up and frankly she didn't care. She dipped her hands into the water and began to twist the rag of its contents until only a few droplets were left. She stood from her crouching position and turned to look at the wall. Strange substances covered the stone and she put herself to work by incessantly scrubbing it. Over and over she scraped the gore from the walls until the clear water in the bucket turned a dark red. Her fingers were pruned and began to lock in place from using the same motion over and over.

Ember stood watching his master for what seemed to be an eternity before he decided to help her. His tounge lapped over the stone numerous times to try and rid the wall of contamination. A small patter of footsteps caught his attention after a few moments, however, and he turned to see a white-haired mage slowly walking toward them. He sounded a soft bark to alert his master.

Auriel stopped her long strokes along the wall and turned slightly to see Wynne standing a few feet away from her. Wynne's expression was somber and concerned. Auriel looked away. She didn't have the patience to listen to another of Wynne's scoldings so she turned back to scrubbing another part of the wall.

"You are tired." Wynne's voice was soft but it held an edge.

"Many are tired. It is a wonder we do not all sleep through both day and night." She took the dirty rag and dipped it into the water before scrubbing again.

Wynne shook her head. "You need sleep. If you have come back to help the Circle, truly help the Circle, then your mind and thoughts are needed here…within these walls…at least for the moment. Not in the past. Not with the Darkspawn and not…with Alistair."

Anger suddenly rose from the heart of Auriel's chest and pounded its way up through her body until it was visible on her cheeks. The flesh turned a rosy red and her eyes began to turn blurry. She suddenly twisted from the wall while slamming the rag back into the bucket. "Am I not allowed to grieve? If only for a few days? I've lost much in so little a time-" She stopped herself. There was no use in arguing with the woman. She knew deep down that she was right.

"Your grieving process would last for weeks if you'd let it. Sleep well tonight and clear your mind for the tasks at hand tomorrow. It's going to be a rather long day for you." A quick but soft smile graced the woman's lips before she placed her hands behind her back politely and turned to leave. A loud huff from Ember sounded as he sat on his haunches.

Wynne's footfalls could barely be heard as she faded from sight. A louder, heavier set of footsteps caught Auriel's attention as they made themselves known with each deliberate stride up the stairs. The footfalls stopped for a moment and she heard a soft fluttering of voices that echoed from the stairway. One of them was decidedly more masculine but she couldn't pinpoint who its owner was. The loud footsteps continued. She watched the empty doorway and waited with almost-bated breath.

The silhoutte of a Templar appeared in the hallway. As he neared she saw his cynical features with the tight lips and distrusting gaze. She knew better than to speak to him in that moment so she simply turned around and began to scrub at the wall for a little while longer before she would retire to her quarters. She did not have to ask Cullen why he was there. She knew.

Ember let out a long sigh as he went to place himself on the ground. It would be a while before his master would move off again so he simply watched the Templar and waited.

Cullen stood on the opposite wall behind her with his hands forcibly pinned to his sides. His gaze drifted everywhere but on her. To each side of her figure, to the ceiling, to the opposite sides of the hallway, these were the places his stare landed. He shifted in the armor noisily and quietly cleared his throat. She had stopped scrubbing a few moments ago and that was when his gaze finally landed on her form, hammering through her flesh as if to expose her for the abomination that she really was.

Auriel's gaze turned blank for a moment as her cleaning faltered. Her arm fell lax to her side as her memories unexpectedly took her back to the Tower before the blight and bloodshed…before finding out about Jowan; before her life had become so complicated and miserable.

And her heart ached for that simpler time.