A helpless sigh escaped Cullen's lips as he was leaving the throne room. His legs were weak from tiredness the previous night had gifted him, and his mind was heavy with nagging questions and suspicions. Thick and relentless, they suffocated him like a clutch of a giant snake, and no matter how the man struggled to put them in order, they fought back far more successfully than he would have wanted, crushed his attempts effortlessly.

Cole wasn't sure what was happening within the walls of the former Inquisitor's chamber, and the Commander wandered among guesses as blindly. The only clue he possessed was his dream, and if he chose to trust Maxwell he'd met there, then the clock was running.

Cullen had never been a big fan of puzzles, especially those that were bound to knowledge beyond his reach, and especially those that had a time limit. The Herald had presented quite a few of them in the course of a single hour, and the Commander quickly found himself drowning, never certain if he was on the right track or not. Maxwell's "tranquility", Solas's doubtable disappearance, I have time – all of that was rather difficult to fathom.

He needed help.

Unfortunately, most of Maxwell's companions and friends had departed upon Corypheus's defeat, and there weren't any mages left who knew how to deal with such a mystery. Dorian and Vivienne probably had enough experience to provide a sufficient support, but both of them had settled far away from Skyhold, and even though Cullen had decided to send crows, he needed to take immediate support where he could. That is why, as soon as he learned from Leliana that no strangers had been spotted in the area, he directed his feet towards the current Inquisitor's chamber. Cassandra was a well-educated woman, a Seeker, and she knew Maxwell better than most – maybe she would offer a few fresh opinions.

I have time. You are still alive.

Cullen wiped the non-existent sweat off his forehead as he walked, and when he was lowering his hand back to the sword, he caught the sight of his damaged palm. Memories of how he gained the injury flooded his mind on instant- but he needed to concentrate, to shut out his emotions, so he ordered himself to focus on the current task and proceeded.

Cassandra didn't seem to be awfully surprised by his visit. The Commander found her sitting at the table, documents and letters scattered all around but hardly keeping her busy. There was, however, a book lying in front of her, and judging by the way it was open, Cassandra was through the bigger part of it already.

It was strange to see her neglecting her duties in favor of reading.

"Good morning," Cullen greeted her. "I need to discuss something with you. It is urgent."

The woman didn't answer – simply pointed at an empty chair, and the Commander closed the door before following her silent order. Being the Inquisitor sharpened Cassandra's perception, and Cullen was positive she already knew what he was going to talk about.

"It's Maxwell, isn't it," she stated more than asked, and the Commander shrugged with one shoulder, sitting down on the offered chair. "What happened? You look like you haven't slept again."

Cullen propped his elbows on the table. "I dreamt of Maxwell," he said. "The dream was… discouraging, and kept me awake through the rest of the night."

Cassandra blinked at him. "What did he do?"

"Most importantly, he wasn't acting like a tranquil," the man answered, batting away the instinctual need to observe the eye-patch. "I rarely get coherent dreams, and this one was… so vivid. It felt real, like I was actually there... with him."

The Inquisitor nodded.

"Long story short, he implied that he was going to find a way to return himself to his body and then strike me down."

"What…?"

Cullen raised a hand to put the incoming questions on hold and went on with the story. "Apparently, some part of him may be looking for a way to re-connect."

Cassandra spared a glance at the book, frowning. She didn't attempt to interrupt the Commander, though, and listened patiently as he spoke.

"I went to his chamber when I woke up," the man continued. "He wasn't asleep and told me that he was waiting for Solas. It confused me at first, but now I think he might be willing to help Maxwell achieve his goal." The letter came to Cullen's mind as well, but he chose not to dwell upon that yet. "So I called out to Cole, and he came… but he told me, though hesitantly, that he hadn't sensed Solas's presence at all. And according to him, Maxwell is not returning."

"I see."

"And Maxwell… he repeated the exact same words he'd told me in my dream," Cullen added, feeling shiver run down his spine at the thought. "That he had time… All of this can't be just a big coincidence, can it?"

Cassandra sighed in response, and straightened her back, leaning into the chair. It may have been due to the light of a half-burned candle that slid over her skin, but suddenly she looked a lot older. Cullen noticed dim traces of exhaustion under her eyes now that he was watching closely, and her hair, though neatly combed, seemed dry and uneven.

She rubbed her eyelids.

"What exactly did Cole say about Solas?"

The Commander hummed, returning to the night, scanning the events for the remaining bits of phrases he'd heard. If he'd gotten it right, then… "I think, Cole told me it's hard to see him. He didn't explain further. So…"

"So, that means that we do not truly know if Solas was here or not." Cassandra summed up thoughtfully. "We should ask Leliana if her agents have encountered anything strange recently. Or have you already done that?"

"They haven't detected anything," the Commander shook his head. "He must have come up with a clever way to disguise himself. To hide from both our and Cole's eyes. And if he didn't, then… I do not know what to believe anymore."

"Hm." Cassandra waited for him to continue, but Cullen didn't really know what to add at this point. He watched as she flattened the old pages of the book she'd been reading and stilled his breath when he came across the lines.

"What is this?" he asked.

The Inquisitor took a moment before answering. "This," she said, "is a book our agents recovered from the Lord Seeker a few days ago."

"The Lord Seeker?"

"Yes. It contains knowledge you may find interesting. For instance," Cassandra tapped a page with her slim finger, "there is a way to reverse Tranquility. And I am a perfect example, since, apparently, I used to be one."

The Commander gaped at her for a good minute - perhaps less, but when he finally managed to wrap his head around the idea, it certainly seemed so. Maxwell's face flashed in front of his eyes and then faded as swiftly, letting Cassandra's focused expression take its place - life had a cruel sense of humor, making them have something like this in common.

The Seeker turned the book towards Cullen so that he would see for himself.

"To become a Seeker, I spent months in a vigil, emptying myself of all emotion," she explained. "I was made tranquil, and did not even know. Then the vigil summoned a spirit of faith to touch my mind. That broke Tranquility – and gave me my abilities."

"So… Maxwell will come back if a spirit touches him…?" Cullen breathed out, the woman's story spreading within the boundaries of his understanding and lighting its dark corners one by one. He wasn't sure what to think of it. Even if Maxwell's soul could be repaired, the same couldn't be said about his sanity. Besides, how did that even work? Did Cole know nothing about it? Or Solas, didn't Maxwell say the elf had promised to "fix" him somehow? What of the dream? So many questions were unanswered…

"It is possible." He could hear Cassandra answering. "And I should admit, it is quite relieving to know there may still be a chance for us to bring him back, even though what you've just told me… troubles me."

Cullen glanced up from the book. He wanted to look the Seeker in the eye but suddenly felt unworthy because here they were: he, the friend who all but destroyed Maxwell and was willing to live with that, and Cassandra - the one who actually believed in the former Inquisitor so much she didn't think twice before sharing such a secret. She was willing to get to him, to free him, and Cullen- he had his reasons, had his truths, but somehow, right now…

"What should I do?" he whispered, and Cassandra reached out to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly.

"Firstly, you need to find out who it truly was whom you saw in your dream. Both this book and Cole's perception suggest that Maxwell is out of reach, which means that you met someone else. Solas, presumably, though I do not understand why he would want to threaten you."

"Maybe he blames me for what I did," Cullen muttered. "Even if he didn't do any better with his disappearance. Anyway, about Maxwell's recovery…"

Cassandra tensed visibly: it was obvious what she was hoping to hear. Unfortunately, Cullen's brain stated that he knew better, and so he wasn't very eager to provoke unnecessary danger. It would be best to secure Maxwell from Solas's help, to secure Thedas from the threat they could become…

Still, his heart was singing something entirely different.

"…I don't know," the Commander finished. "When… if we decide to get him back, we should make certain he won't attack us or plan something that makes us regret."

The grip on his shoulder tightened, and Cassandra pursed her lips, her disapproval of his "if" pretty evident.

"Correct me if I am wrong, but is he not your friend?" she asked quietly, yet with so much strength behind each word Cullen could almost feel them on his skin. "I've seen you together. I've seen how you affected each other. You cannot deny he is special to you."

"Special doesn't even begin to describe it," the Commander admitted, reluctant.

Cassandra smiled faintly. "Now I'm starting to recognize you."

"But…"

"No." The Seeker raised her free hand, gripped Cullen's other shoulder. "You've spent so many days torturing yourself, telling yourself there is nothing else you can do. That there is no other option. But there is an option, Cullen. You just need to grasp it. And since you did not deny Maxwell as your friend, shouldn't helping him be your duty?"

Cassandra had always been forceful in her determination, and when she came up with ideas good enough to put everything at stake, that determination became contagious. Cullen watched as it enveloped him once again, coming through the physical contact they were sharing, through the flare in the Inquisitor's eye.

It was overwhelming.

"I need to think," he said weakly. "I'm not saying this because I want to refuse the enthusiasm, I just… I need to think. To talk to someone. To Cole and… maybe to Maxwell, too."

Cassandra nodded and let him go, though hesitantly.

"Of course," she agreed, lowering herself back on the chair. "Thank you. It means a lot to me."

"I know. And I'm sorry I'm not meeting your expectations. It's a difficult decision."

"Do not worry, Cullen. I understand."

"Thank you."

The Commander rose to his feet, and that action alone was terribly costly. It seemed that the knowledge he had gained, stole the remains of his energy that the previous night hadn't taken. Cassandra noticed the change and sprung to her feet as well, but Cullen raised a hand to stop her.

"I'm fine," he said. "Don't worry about me. I will talk to them, send letters to Dorian and Vivienne, and then sleep for a while. I promise."

"Forget the letters, I will deal with them," Cassandra assured him. "And you can leave the recruits to me. As your Inquisitor, I forbid you to leave your bed today. Is that clear?"

Cullen sighed. "Yes, Inquisitor. I will do my best."

"Good."

He left the chamber, trying to look as solid as possible, but when the door behind him closed, his knees nearly gave out. The Commander grunted and began walking forward – tired or no, he wanted – needed – to talk to Maxwell at least. He needed to know what the Herald was thinking about. How he remembered his past. If he thought he'd become angry when they brought him back… Cullen needed to know a myriad of things.

He couldn't believe there was a reason to wonder aloud.

As he went, feelings rose within him, battled against his fears - and the more they clashed, the more exhausted he became. Still, he proceeded, because there was a victor in that uneven battle – the memory of him and Maxwell sharing happiness, supporting each other. Being there for each other. If he was careful… maybe he'd be able to experience that again. That realization was the power that drove him forward, step by step, and he felt himself slowly surrendering.

Scared but hopeful, Cullen opened the door to the former Inquisitor's chamber… and found no one there.