The Crossroads . . .

His eyes adjusted to dull pallor around him before his body acclimated. A streak of lightning stabbed through the sky above him. Cullen moved away from Morrigan's mirror to a violent crack and furious thunder. The clouds above him flickered in alarm.

"You don't want me here, do you?" Cullen stepped cautiously on the stone paths. A lightning bolt split a tree in response. He staggered backwards from the auditory force of the thunder that followed. Deafening to most, Cullen's momentary disorientation subsided. "All right, I won't stay long. Whatever you are, I will return – get used to me now."

Be it spirits, true sentience or just his imagination, this was not the Crossroads Yen described. She spoke of ethereal beauty, mist and shadow. The trees, stones, and even the Eluvians themselves were decaying, crumbling under the inescapable weight of time.

Careful steps lead Cullen towards the center, taking his time to quell the growing agitation in this space between reality and the Veil. The clouds bubbled and swirled sending gusts of wind meant to keep Cullen away. "You can't hide from me and it disturbs you." Yen experienced an illusion, a glamour. This is the reality. Death and decay, loneliness and anger at the abandonment - the magic craved more than it received.

As he moved towards the right side, his medallion sprung to life. The intensity of the hum was greater than any other single experience to his memory. "Found you," he said. The energy was not corporeal, not Flemeth herself, but the strength of the medallion's reaction was too intense to ignore.

Off to the right of him, a small alcove held an enormous mirror. However, his eyes spotted a body on the cracked stone path and the discovery forced him to run. He knew it was she even before he knelt down. "Flemeth," Cullen sighed as he looked over her corpse. It's just a shell, nothing of her remains.

"No marks, no burns and I can't find anything on her skin to indicate she was injured." Cullen took in her withered skin, the strange dark tinge to her body. "Strange. I've never seen this before on a body from any race in Thedas. It's almost as though she didn't die, but her essence was removed from her body." Cullen stood and looked around. "What was the medallion reacting to if not the body?"

Kneeling, Cullen closed his eyes and cleared his thoughts. A warm light filled the alcove, and he smiled. "Like that feeling, don't you," he said aloud, "be nice to me and I'll share." He continued to address whatever existed in the Crossroads as though it heard him speak. Cullen reached out for any lingering remnants of magic.

An image of crimson silks and violet light flashed before him. "Razikale. Someone took you away from Flemeth. I might be able to follow her." Cullen took another deep breath and allowed the magic to flow around him. A clouded curtain obstructed his view, but the Veil was undeniably behind it and the hint of the familiar – akin to the Anchor and ancient. He could not lift the curtain to see what had walked here. He felt the strength of power lingering around the large mirror. Whatever walked, entered the mirror alone.

Cullen snapped to full awareness as the winds threatened him again and the skies darkened. The Anchor, the rifts, the Eluvians everything is connected and you behind it all. The name of his target fresh in his mind, the reaction of the Crossroads proved Cullen correct. "All right, no more games Solas. Where are you?"

Checking his harness and blades, Cullen tightened the straps on his armor. Axii sign drawn, the Eluvian flickered to life.

Behind him, lies the way home and Yennelyn. Before him lay the hunt and a decision to be made.

A silent prayer.

A deep breath.

Who am I? I have worn many names, many faces. I will leave them all behind to become a hunter. I leave Thedas to those I trust.

My Yen, I know you will forgive me.

There is no one else who can travel these roads and I've made my decision. My name is Cullen Stanton Rutherford and I'm a Witcher.