The thick stone walls offered no warmth in the dreary room. To refer to it as her bedchambers would have been far too genial a term, for Bethany knew what it really was: a cell. There were two beds inside, but the other one remained unoccupied. Whether that meant the number of apostates was increasing, or if it was the number of Circle mages slaughtered by the Templars, she didn't know.

She had done her best to remain strong in the presence of her oppressors. They would not find weakness in her, and she had maintained a stoic demeanor while being taken to her assigned space. She had caught glimpses of other areas in the great hall as they had led her throughout the corridors, and she began to formulate ideas for her future.

There was no laughter, or any signs of happiness anywhere. The statues lining the hallways sent a ripple of dread throughout her body, their solid forms twisted in a commemoration of suffering. Logically, she knew that the mages of Kirkwall's Circle must be allowed to associate and socialize with each other at times, but no such meetings were currently occurring.

The children simultaneously filled her with hope and crushed her with despair. Their innocence was to be envied and pitied, as they knew no other way of life. For the first time, Bethany was able to see with clarity what her family had protected her from. While the young mages had the benefit of associating with others who shared the same skills, they would never see the outside of Kirkwall. For some, journeys outside the Gallows would never be allowed. They could be robbed of their humanity via the Rite of Tranquility, or even killed outright should they be deemed a danger to themselves or others.

They would never feel the bliss of running through a grassy field, or the excitement of sailing across the tumultuous seas. They would never be able to idly browse the shops in the marketplaces, or know the simple joy of meeting friends in a tavern for drinks and entertainment. They would never be allowed to fall in love, to raise families of their own, and create a legacy outside the Circle.

Bethany was grateful for all she had been able to experience before being apprehended. The tragedies she had witnessed were balanced out by the joys she had felt. She hoped her memories of her previous life, both good and bad, would be enough to sustain her through whatever lay in store for her. Once she passed her Harrowing and convinced the Templars she was not a threat or had any plans for escape, she would be allowed limited contact with the outside world. It would take some time to adjust to the ways of the Circle, but she tried to remain optimistic that there was still more for her to accomplish.

She sat at the edge of the bed, pulling her new robes around her. No matter how much she tried to focus on uplifting thoughts, there was no denying the stinging shock of the day's events. Thoughts of her father drifted into her mind like a cold wind, and for a moment, she felt as if she had failed him. He'd spent his life on the run from the Templars, and had devoted himself to keeping her out of their clutches. All of it had been for naught.

A lump formed in her throat, and she tried to divert her attention to something else. For once, she actually found herself missing her brother's unpredictable personality and ill-timed jokes. She tried to imagine what Garrett would say if he was in the cell with her. Perhaps he would comment on the hideous clothing they had forced her to wear, or make crude gestures behind the Templars' backs. The speculation was almost enough to bring a smile to her face.

The boost to her spirits disappeared almost as quickly as it had begun. Would Garrett always feel guilty for not being there to protect her? Was Mother blaming him like she did for Carver's death? What would have happened if he had been in Kirkwall in the days leading up to her arrest? What would have happened if she had joined him on the expedition to the Deep Roads as originally planned?

Thoughts of the Deep Roads led Bethany's mind to the one topic she had been trying so desperately to avoid. Not only did she feel like she had somehow disappointed all her loved ones, she couldn't bear to think of how she'd stumbled into the fate that Anders had feared for both of them. The whole time they'd been together, he'd worried that he would lead the Templars straight to her, only for them to arrive when he was gone. The irony left a bitter taste in her mouth.

The realization that she may never see him again was difficult to ignore, yet painful to accept. They had only just started down their shared path together, and she had been yanked away just as they had discovered all the exquisite wonders life had to offer. It was brutally unfair.

The first tear dripped down her cheek. She'd kept her face a blank slate since being taken into custody, and had shown no outward signs of emotion. Throughout the entire day, she had promised herself that she wouldn't cry. Though she couldn't see outside from her windowless cell, she knew night had fallen. After so many hours, she felt her resolve weakening.

A second tear joined the first. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and tried to fight back the slew of grief that threatened to spill forth. A distraction came in the form of a shadow darkening the doorway, and she blinked twice before looking up through the bars.

"Mistress Bethany," a masked Templar addressed her. Three more stood behind him.

"Yes?"

He unlocked the grating. "Come with us."

"Where are we going?"

"It is time for your Harrowing."

Her jaw dropped in surprise. "But…but I just got here! Now? Why so soon?"

"It is time." His voice was deep and unwavering.

She had no choice but to stand up and follow his orders. They flanked her on all sides, and led her down a nearby flight of stairs. The air was cold and damp, and she soon realized they were leading her underground. Her facial expression never changed as she tried to swallow back her fear.

To think that she would ever succumb to a demon was ludicrous. She had faced them plenty of times before, but she had always had someone at her side to help her fight, and it had been in the physical plane. Details of how the Harrowing rituals were conducted in Kirkwall had been a well-kept secret, and she didn't know what to expect. Theoretically, anything was possible in the Fade. She wasn't even sure whether the Templars here wanted her to pass or fail.

Bethany's hands grew clammy and her heart raced in her chest. Death could be mere hours away. She might never have a chance to see her family and friends again and tell them how much she loved them. A sob tried to escape her throat, and she covered it up with a cough. "You can do this. You will be successful," she repeated to herself.

Amidst her mantras, she thought of her father once more. He had taught her everything he knew, and she would not disappoint him again. Her mother and Garrett would be waiting to hear news of her fate, and she would not let them down. Lastly, she thought of Anders. Not only had he loved her as a partner, he had respected her as a mage. Were he with her, she knew that he would have zero doubts as to the outcome of the Harrowing.

They approached a solid wooden door. Bethany stared at it with apprehension, reaching down within herself to find the confidence she knew existed. One of her guards unlocked it and pushed it open. The room was dark and she couldn't make out any details from where she was standing. With the support of her loved ones at the front of her mind, she took a deep breath and stepped inside.