The cool water soothed Cullen's burnt hand as he submerged it beneath the surface of the river. He let out an exasperated groan, saying a silent prayer to the Maker for small miracles. Normally the water brought him no comfort. He was much more prone to seasickness than most. But thankfully the water seemed to be calm at the moment.

It was hours since most of the refugees had turned in for the night. He probably should have been resting too, but the quiet suited him well. He mused for a small moment about the fact that he was outside in the dark alone, with nothing but the moon to light his way. 5 year old him would have been terrified.

You always were a cowardly little boy. You just pretend to be brave when others are depending on you. But you're just weak. No matter how hard you try, your efforts will always be in vain. You let everyone down. You let everyone die.

He flexed his hand slowly beneath the water. Still painful, he thought to himself, good.

Cullen needed the pain as far as he was concerned. It kept everything real, in perspective. The things that mattered were painful...the right things...did he even manage that? Rylen wanted to die. He did him a favor. He even said so himself before...but was it right? You don't feel guilty about what's right.

His mother had told him that once...his mother...who was likely ripped apart by those monsters. She didn't deserve that. It should have been him staying behind to hold the line. He should have done more...

He clearly hadn't heard Barris's footsteps crunching along the rocky bank. Not wanting to elicit an adverse reaction, Barris cleared his throat as he approached his friend slowly. But despite his efforts, He still seemed startled.

Cullen stood up quickly, wincing as pain shot through his hand again. He allowed himself to cradle it when he recognized Barris. There was no need for a facade with him. He could trust him, he always could. And given all that has happened...he might be his only friend left. But there was a bitterness inside him that took over. He wasn't even sure why. Barris didn't deserve it in the least, but it was there. And maker damn him, he couldn't control it.

He meant to spy on you, to find you in a vulnerable moment. Even your last remaining friend doesn't trust you. Even he thinks you're weak. He sneered as he looked over him. "Spy work was never your strong suit, Barris."

Confusion crossed Barris's face for a moment, but he shook it away quickly. "Spies typically don't announce their presence. Friends do."

Cullen scoffed. "Alistair never did. The man would just be sitting on my couch some days, playing that damnable medieval game that painted Templars as awkward, bumbling idiots."

Barris snickered initially but schooled his reaction back down again, knowing Cullen didn't mean to sound humorous. "Sure, completely inaccurate until there's a pretty face right in front of you."

"Don't get me started." Cullen slumped back down upon the riverbank carelessly, dropping his hand back into the water unceremoniously. "Another thing to regret."

"You're talking about Ashley?"

She loved you and you failed her too. Pathetic. Cullen's dark gaze shot up to Barris instantly. He said nothing but the look in his eyes read like a warning.

Barris wouldn't be deterred though. He couldn't sit there and let his friend plummet into the abyss. He steeled himself as he pressed further. "You can hardly blame yourself for that."

"Can't I?"

"You didn't have a choice."

Didn't you? He's trying to weaken you more, you can't let go of your guilt. "All I had was choice!"

"Fine, then. Did you choose wrong?"

"You saw what happened! Of course I did!" She hates you now, all that love and light died when you betrayed her.

"Then you'd have let your family starve, is that it? That would have been better?"

"I could have...I should have..." Cullen's fists clenched, sending pain through his injured hand again. His posture slumped defeatedly. There was always something else you could have done. There was always something else you missed. And you missed it because you were weak.

The small shaking in his torso told Barris he was in tears. He knelt down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Meredith acted dishonorably from start to finish with that, and you know it. She shouldn't have put you in that position. She knew your family was desperate for money, so she had you make that choice. And there was no right answer."

"That doesn't make it better."

"It doesn't. But it doesn't mean you should carry the burden of it either."

"What else can I do? Everything I do is wrong. Every decision I make is wrong. All I can do is lament until the Maker sees fit to end my miserable life. Andraste knows I deserve it." You may as well just drown yourself in the river now. You know you can't swim. Just another thing you've failed at, hmm? Might as well just end it now...

"Your mother would be spitting hot coals if she heard this."

That snapped him out of his thoughts for a brief moment. But it was only replaced with overwhelming sadness. The image of her face...crying in her last moment with him...she must have been so disappointed... "It should have been me!"

"And then what? Should she have just stood by and let her son die? How would you have expected her to live the rest of her life then, hmm? She'd be living with the guilt. Knowing that she'd out lived a child and that she could have done something about it."

Tears rolled down his face in waves once again. He covered his eyes with his hands, despite the pain it brought. "I wasn't worthy of her sacrifice..."

Barris shook his head, a serious expression crossing his face as he eyed him. "Mary-Ann Rutherford was never wrong."

Cullen huffed a laugh, despite himself. He could practically see her saying that...it was a silly thing of course, just something meant to make her children feel better. But there was some sort of truth to it. No advice from her had ever led him astray. She led a seemingly perfect life, she'd never done anything wrong. It was only when he began focusing on that small, good memory of her that he was clearly able to recall her last words to him. She didn't regret him, she loved him. More than that, she was proud of him. The realization hit him like an ogre. He was crying in earnest now. It felt like he had to. Every tear that fell was another bad piece of him that he could be rid of. It wasn't enough, of course. There were still dark places in his mind that were calling to him like a siren's song. But for now things were clearer, he could sort them out on his own now...eventually...hopefully...

He looked back up at Barris. He owed the man a drink at the very least, maybe some sort of bribe to ensure he doesn't tell anyone else what he saw here. He gave him a nod and a small, grateful smile. It seemed that his friend understood that completely. It was comforting to know that he had someone he didn't need words to fully communicate with.

His attention suddenly snapped to another voice somewhere behind him. They sounded like a young man, maybe a boy even. No one he recognized at the very least. But the strange thing was he couldn't see him. When he turned towards the voice he was met with nothing but the familiar forest surroundings. Before he could call out to it, the voice responded to him.

"I'm here, but not here. It's difficult. You won't understand. Too much magic, too many knots."

Cullen's eyes darted around in every direction, desperately trying to find the source of the voice. Barris was looking at him as if he'd suddenly gone completely mad. Can he not hear this? What in the Maker's name does that mean? Is this another bloody demon?!

"I don't mean to scare you. I want to help. Well, you do the helping. I just talk. For now, at least. Maybe forever."

Cullen got to his feet quickly, searching behind every nearby tree.

"You need to hear this: there are bad people coming. They're all red inside. They want to hurt. You, mostly. But Barris and Rylen, too. They know too much. You know too much. They can't chance making you red, you have to be dead."

"What?!" Cullen began shouting towards the treetops. In a fleeting moment, he could have sworn he spotted a pair of eyes looking down upon him, a shadowy figure that appeared to be wearing a large hat. "What are you talking about?"

"You have a lot of knots, too many too count. And too many to untie right now. You need to help. That's what you do. You're strong, you're meant to do the helping. Your mother wants you to know that. She wants to tell you herself but she can't do it while you're awake. Your father wants to...stick a boot where the sun doesn't shine? But the sun shines everywhere, unless it's night? You want to put a boot in the night? Now you're the one not making sense."

"She...they...what...? Who are you?"

The figure seemed to flinch as it glanced in the direction of the camp. "You need to go, now. Do the helping. Cassandra can't hold out forever. They all need you."

Cullen blinked and suddenly the figure had vanished. He was frozen in place for a moment, trying to figure out what in the void just happened to him. But Barris's voice pulled him out of it.

"The scouts are reporting an ambush! Let's move!"

Barris took off before Cullen had even understood what he had told him. So many damn questions, and far too many personal mood swings for his liking. That...voice...that was talking to him was one thing, but Barris would sooner cut his sword arm off than lie to him. He re-dressed his injured hand as best as he could and charged after Barris.

The closer he got to the camp, the more he came to realize the serious nature of their situation. Barely any of the templars were left as it was. And these bloody bandits were cutting right through them. Wait...no...those aren't bandits...that can't be...was that templar armor? What in the Maker's name were those red things? That couldn't be crystallized lyrium?