It was almost evening by the time Rylen and his patrol arrived back at Skyhold. Cullen was, as usual, in his office; figuratively buried in paperwork and training schedules. Almost literally too, The Believers impact on his in-tray had not been insignificant. He was so focused on his work that he started a little when his door flew open with a bang, heralding Rylen's arrival. The recent snowfall on the mountains still dusted the shoulders of Rylen's uniform, his heavy boots left damp patches of slush with every step he took across the small office. A report was held tight in one hand, he brandished it in front of him as he strode purposefully over to Cullen's desk.

Cullen barely had time to register that his most trusted lieutenant hadn't knocked when Rylen spoke, "Commander, we've got another one."

"Makers breath." Cullen cursed with a groan, when he'd wanted news from Rylen's patrol, this really wasn't the news he'd been hoping for.

Cullen's fellow ex-Templar looked tired and worn from the trip, new lines that hadn't been there a year ago creased the skin around his eyes, though how much of that was from lyrium withdrawal and how much was caused by the news he was delivering, Cullen didn't know.

Cullen stood and hastily shuffled the folders and papers that were scattered across his desk into a disorderly pile and dumped it on the floor. It was not at all like him to treat his paperwork in such a way, but the expression on Rylen's face was enough for him to dispense with his usual painstaking organisation. With the papers off to one side, he unrolled a large, dog-eared map onto his desk and threw a couple of weights down to hold the corners in place. Rylen moved past him to make his mark; a large scratched X through a village.

For a few moments the two men stood shoulder to shoulder in silence, staring at the map and the newest mark. Three other villages were marked in a similar way; large X's marked by a different hand. Different X's, but they meant the same thing. That brought their total to four. Four decimated villages in just a few months, and they were no closer to finding the people responsible.

Four marks, four villages, four acts of murder and destruction. Four totally unremarkable villages. Four random hits with no rhyme, no reason and no hint as to where or when they would strike next.

"And the villagers?" Cullen asked, he could already hear the resignation in his voice. If this was The Believers, then he already knew the answer, all he needed was confirmation.

"Same as the others. One dead from every household." Rylen sighed.

Cullen saw more than felt his hand form a fist on his desk. His teeth ground together as he gave Rylen a curt nod of acknowledgement.

Four villages?! Andraste preserve them. Four fucking -

He swallowed back his own sigh as it tried to escape his throat.

There was no denying it was them: The Believers. The villages might be different, but the pattern was the same. They chose one person from each family to die before burning every building to the ground, leaving the survivors homeless.

A Maker-forsaken scorched earth response against civilians, against people that have no chance of fighting back.

It was enough to make his blood boil in anger.

The Inquisition had offered all the refugees sanctuary. Most of them came, grateful for somewhere to go. A few had friends of family that they could rely on. A small number from each village were, however, resentful.

Understandably resentful, Cullen thought.

They were wrong, but he could sympathise; given the circumstances he might have resented The Inquisition if he had been in their position.

"How many refugees?" he asked once his jaw unclenched enough for him to speak,

"Around forty, I'd wager." Rylen answered without looking at him, his gaze was still pinned to the map. There was something about seeing those four marks that made it hit home; this wasn't just some isolated incident, wasn't just a bunch of over-zealous bandits. It was real, targeted and intentional, "Some had other places to go, the rest are on their way to Haven. I left some men to escort them."

"Good. The last thing these people need right now is to be set upon by bandits on the road." Cullen rubbed the back of his neck as he quickly calculated the distance between the village and Haven, the part of his mind that lived for nothing but logic and planning was already running the logistics of adding that many people to a town that was already verging on over-populated, "It won't take them long to arrive. The village they're coming from isn't far, and the traders have been doing an excellent job of keeping the roads clear."

Rylen finally looked up, grabbing at Cullen's excuse to be practical and plan rather than worry, "Aye," he nodded, "It's a good thing we started rebuilding Haven when we did, we'd never have crammed them all in Skyhold."

"Food will start to become a problem soon, how are the stores?"

"They're holding for the time being, have no fear, we don't need to worry about people starving." Rylen pulled a sheet of paper with their latest stock-take from a report and held it out for Cullen to see for himself, "A few farmers in Haven are talking about setting up crops, sorta getting their lives back, you know? But the ground is still frozen solid."

"Farming? Really?" Cullen asked; the resilience of people would never fail to surprise him,

"Aye, but until it thaws we're still relying on traders and whatever we can grow in Skyhold."

Cullen glanced at the stock-take before placing it in his overflowing in-tray for a more thorough look later, "There's land next to the stables that isn't being used, I'll have people start planting there. I'd rather not have to resort to rationing; these people have been through enough."

Cullen braced his hands on his desk, letting his head fall forward as his gaze was dragged back to the map. He glared at the newest mark; a tiny, out-of-the-way village. Full of people that couldn't possibly have done anything to bring this kind of devastation down upon themselves.

The wooden floor creaked as Rylen shifted his weight from foot to foot at his side. From the corner of his eye Cullen saw the man's free hand clench into a fist and relax again, his arms swinging a little away from his body. Cullen held his breath for a moment, dread pooling in his stomach,

Not another one, please not another one. He silently begged, I don't want to witness the pain on Ellana's face if there's another one.

Rylen shifted his weight again and passed the folder from one hand to the other. Cullen knew why he was hovering, why he hadn't handed Cullen the folder and dismissed himself. No one liked to be the bearer of bad news. Giving your commanding officer bad news was never something a soldier wanted to do, it was even worse when that commanding officer was your friend.

It's even harder when it's your lover, Cullen thought bitterly, already dreading the conversation he'd have to have with Ellana if his instincts were right.

The dread made its way up his spine to sit in the back of his neck, making it ache.

"Was there something else, Rylen?" Cullen asked when he couldn't take the tension any longer,

"There was another note, Commander." Rylen said in a rush.

Damn.

Rylen removed it from his report and placed it on the desk next to Cullen's hand. Cullen let his eyes slide closed as he released the breath he was holding on one long exhale. Of course there was another blighted note, sometimes he hated being right,

"And The Inquisitor?" he asked,

"Doesn't know yet," Rylen replied, "I came straight here."

"Left the fun part to me, did you?" Cullen said dryly, finally opening his eyes to meet Rylen's. He waved a dismissive hand when it looked as though Rylen was about to offer to deliver the news on his behalf, "I'll tell her. Could you round the others up and meet us in The Den? Give us half an hour or so."

"Will do." Rylen left his report on Cullen's desk and headed toward the door before looking back at Cullen over his shoulder, "I'm sorry, Cullen."

"As am I."

"Tell the lady Inquisitor I said the same."

Cullen nodded but didn't answer, and he heard the door close softly as Rylen left him alone. With a sigh he dropped back into his abandoned chair, he propped his elbows on the top of his desk, steepled his fingers and rested his forehead on his thumbs. Red X's danced behind his eyelids when he blinked. He ground his knuckles into his eyes, it didn't help.

Four villages.

Four.

How many people was that in total? He didn't want to do the maths. The number didn't matter, the answer would always be too many. And they had nothing. Not a single damn lead.

Rolling the map up in disgust he pulled himself from his chair and paced to the window. With Corypheus dead, they'd expected things to get easier, they'd been wrong. Problem after problem had been brought to their door in the months since he'd been defeated. Cullen was no longer sure how many of these problems were a direct result of people trying to challenge them, The Believers were certainly a retaliation.

He rested his forehead on the cool glass. He was tired. They were all tired. Some days it seemed they'd never just be done, be finished. When they'd set out to build The Inquisition their goal had been to end the war, to restore order. While they'd accomplished the first part, it seemed that order had no intention of reinstating itself. It left him wondering if it had ever been there to start with.

Are we fighting a losing battle? He wondered.

The idealist in him balked at the suggestion, but the truth was; he just didn't know any more.

What he was sure about, was that, at least for now, The Inquisition was still needed, they weren't going anywhere any time soon.

Had he really been laughing with Ellana in bed that morning? It felt like days ago.

He shook the melancholy away and stiffened his spine. He still had a job to do. Right now, part of that job was to go and tell The Inquisitor that another village had all but been destroyed.

It seemed that Corypheus' legacy lived on.

It was almost dusk; Ellana would be training with the mages.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. She wasn't going to take this well.