A letter from Knight-Captain Liam to Inquisitor Trevelyan:
Dear Ench Inquisitor Evelyn:
The past year's been a struggle for all of us. The Circles broke down, then there's what happened at the Conclave, and half the Templar Order's gone mad and red.
I wanted to write you this letter because a lot of things have changed for me in the past year.
First off, I'm sorry about a lot. We left you and the other mages at that lake outside Ostwick. We didn't even tell you we were leaving, we just went. I guess things were changing, and we didn't know how to exist in a new world where you could be our friend. We were cowards, and then when we heard about the Conclave, we figured you'd be there, but by then there was no way to make up for it.
You know we didn't want you with us, not at the beginning. What you said you could do sounded crazy, coming in to tell us we'd been doing things wrong, not thinking about the mages we were chasing as people, but as future abominations. And you gotta admit, Evelyn, that you don't have the most normal or charming way about you, and we were used to working with fighters, not academics. So we just…tried to stay away, minimize conversation, keep it impersonal and safe.
But after a while, you grew on us, but we'd already started out so bad that nobody knew how to fix it. We couldn't even really talk about it to each other, Templar to Templar. Since you'd had that run-in with Robin when you were a teenager, it woulda been over if anybody stepped wrong. If it looked like we were fraternizing or had become so attached to you we would hesitate if a demon took you, they would have taken you back to the Circle right away. Maybe sent you to somewhere like Kirkwall where they made nice mages with crazy ideas Tranquil, you know?
If it sounds like I'm making excuses, it's because I am. We shoulda been braver. We shoulda told you we were leaving. Carter tried to remember how many times you saved his life and he just can't, because there are too many. You still got those scars from the one time that demon hit you with a lightning bolt? He remembers that one, thought about it a lot after the Conclave.
I hope you know that when I taught you that stuff, the centering exercises and the breathing, and got you those Knight books, that I did it because I didn't know any other way to take care of you. The huge shirtless guy at the tavern says you been fighting with a new weapon recently, and if that's the case, I'm real proud if you. If it's not, you'll get there.
So I'm having Ella help me write all this sentimental crap down because I've started losing myself to the lyrium. They say sometimes it's a blessing, but all I know is there's a lot of stuff I should have done and I didn't, and I'm starting to forget what it was. So I have to tell you these things before they're gone.
First of all, you aren't just a weapon or a mage. You're not a blade, you're a person. I hope you've learned how to turn that feeling off, to be yourself when you're not fighting.
Second, don't you let anybody else treat you the way we did. I know getting yelled at during training and ignored otherwise is small stuff compared to what some other Templars mighta done, but you deserve better than that. I know it was a sacrifice you made to get out of the Circle, help people, learn new stuff, and I respect that, but there is no Circle anymore. Maybe there won't ever be a Circle and Templars again, and maybe that'll be a good thing.
Iron Bull says your ex-Templar Commander is sweet on you. He seems like a nice enough man, stick up his ass, the usual. You watch yourself around Templars, girl. The Chantry does strange things to the way they look at the world, and if he does anything to hurt you I'll kick his ass.
Liam
PS Knight-Captain Liam talks all the time about how he thinks of you as his daughter, and is sad he never got to tell you he loves you. But apparently he still can't, so I'm writing it here. I agree with everything he said, too. We were laid real low when we thought we'd lost you, sister.
-Ella
From Commander Cullen's personal journal:
We saw smoke on the horizon the day we were to approach Samson's base, and I knew in my heart that we were somehow too late.
And if we were too late, if my obsession with him had cost me more than I'd anticipated, what was I to do?
Our unit of soldiers was to fan out through the area and keep an eye out for reinforcements and patrols, and the Inquisitor, myself, Cassandra, Varric, and Dorian would hit the complex. The hope was that a targeted strike would enable us to quickly find Samson and head off his escape if he was still there.
I dressed quickly that morning, slinging my shield over my back and strapping my sword to my side. It felt good, safe and familiar. It reminded me that I needed to speak to Evelyn before we went into battle, to at least tell her I love her before all this began. As if that would be enough.
I left my tent and headed for Cassandra and the Inquisitor's campfire. Cassandra was sitting in front of the fire, fully clad in her Seeker armor, sipping a cup of something warm. I nodded as I walked by her, then I pushed aside the flap of Evelyn's tent and entered.
As I did so, I heard Cassandra say, "I wouldn't—" but I went inside anyway.
She was standing with her back to me, undressed above the waist, braiding her wet hair. My mouth went dry. I hadn't touched her in weeks, and I could see the perfect curve of her breast.
She was whispering something rhythmic to herself, swaying slightly. Tying her braid off, she reached for the length of fabric at the table beside her and caught my eye. She nodded at me, and continued on as if I was not watching, slowly winding the cloth around her breasts, binding them down and tucking in the end. I saw a flash of silver there—around her neck, she was wearing the coin I'd given her.
The morning sun filtered through the thick fabric of the tent, but I could still see more of her scars than I ever had before. The old ones on her back stood out in thick bumps and ropes, and small tendrils of the newer ones crept over her shoulders like an embrace.
They reminded me that I had not made time to talk to her about her trip with Cole, and I had told her nothing of my conversations with the Ostwick Templars. I had been too obsessed with bringing down Samson and trying to hide our relationship from the light of day to care for her feelings.
"I am an asshole," I blurted.
"Yes," she agreed serenely.
She continued whispering to herself, pulling a doublet over her head and sliding her arms into her armored robe. She fastened the buckles up the front, then stopped chanting and turned around.
She walked slowly towards me, her feet still bare, and I could feel the magic in her…crackling, almost. It was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, and I gasped. Like calls to like, she'd said, but I had never been called like this before. There was so much energy, a solid core so concentrated there in her chest…I wanted to get close to her, shove my tongue in her mouth, wanted to pull her down on top of me and…
When I took a step forward, she put her hand out without touching me.
"Stop," she said. I stopped. The hair on the back of my arms stood up.
She waited. I stood there, content to luxuriate in her presence like one does in the first rays of the spring sun after winter. Her magic baked into my bones and I felt warm for the first time in weeks.
"What do you want, Commander?" she sighed.
"I…" I struggled to remember. My ears were ringing. "I came because…it's dangerous, Samson is dangerous. I wanted to tell you…I love you. Be safe."
She smiled softly at me. "Thank you. Now leave."
I left.
I stood outside her tent, blinking in the morning sun. Varric, Dorian, and Cassandra were all seated around the fire, waiting for the Inquisitor. They looked at me.
"Well, fuck," I said.
Dorian choked on his tea, and Varric jumped to his feet and hurried over to me. He tried to conceal his smile, but I still saw it.
"Curly, did you go in there while she was meditating or whatever that weird shit is?" He guided me over to a seat by the fire. "You gotta leave her alone when she does that. She gets…strange."
"I told him not to," snapped the Seeker, "but Maker forbid anyone ever listen to me. She is honing the focus of her energy," Cassandra explained. "We Seekers can do similar things, and I have seen Vivienne do something that is possibly related as well."
"I…have never heard of that," I stammered, still recovering from being so close to that much concentrated magic. "And I get the feeling that if I had, it was not something to be taught to a mage."
"But Commander," Dorian grinned, "is forbidden knowledge not the sweetest of all?"
I shook my head, clearing away the cobwebs. I heard a rustle behind me and Evelyn emerged, fully clothed, looking…normal. Composed.
"Are we ready to move? Dorian, Cullen, I know you both like to skip meals, but make sure you eat something before we leave. I don't need people passing out on the way."
Dorian sighed dramatically, rummaged around in a nearby knapsack, and pulled out two apples, a chunk of cheese and some bread. He tossed me an apple and the cheese.
"Varric, I'm assuming you have the bees, and Cassandra, you're full up on potions for everyone?"
"Yes, Inquisitor," they both responded.
"Good," she nodded and slung her staff over her back. "Let's go. Commander, you can fill us in on the available intelligence on the way there. That smoke is not a good sign."
I shoved my…everything…away, and followed the Inquisitor.
The Temple of Dumat was surrounded by heavy stone battlements, enough to make me wonder why the Tevinters saw fit to make such a holy place also so defensible against attack.
We entered the courtyard and I looked around. "This is it, the heart of Samson's command," I breathed.
Red banners bearing the Sword of Mercy were draped everywhere, and red tents had been set up, presumably to house some of Samson's troops. Half-filled crates were visible on some of the ramparts, and small fires appeared to be burning hastily-piled stacks of wood. The majority of the smoke emerged from the Temple itself.
"I don't see him anywhere," Evelyn whispered, "but there is movement ahead."
"Maker, tell me he hasn't fled," I muttered to myself.
She jerked her head at her companions, and they fanned out and began to creep further into the courtyard. Three Red Templars, their shields propped up against a nearby tent, were flinging objects—supplies, most likely—into a fire. Behind them, leaning up against the wall or lumbering about were…creatures. They were humanoid in form, perhaps ten feet tall, not including the enormous spikes of red lyrium that jutted out all over their hunched backs and shoulders.
Evelyn hung back for a second, and touched my arm, and so I paused. "Those Horrors," she said quietly. "Be very careful—they'll throw rocks of lyrium at you, or vomit it in your direction. Keep your guard up."
I nodded, grateful for the advice. She'd attempted to describe these things in her letters to me, but it was not until I was near them that I could tell how horrifically they'd been perverted and reshaped into monstrous form. They were nothing like the Red Templars I'd fought at Haven, barely human at all.
I saw Evelyn gesture, and Varric moved to the side, just behind a tent, and drew Bianca, aiming at the sky. A torrent of bolts arced up, then rained down upon the Templars. The more normal-looking guards cried out and struggled to reclaim their shields, while the three…Horrors…roared and charged towards us, disregarding the multitude of arrows sticking out of their shoulders and heads.
Evelyn slammed her staff on the ground, and a line of frost snaked forward towards the monsters, icy spikes shooting up through the earth, half-freezing, half-impaling them. Cassandra let out a cry and charged towards them, smashing one into tiny frozen chunks with a swing of her shield and burying her sword in the guts of another, ripping it out in a spray of too-red blood and bile.
The remaining creature charged towards us, and I moved in front of Evelyn and Dorian, shield raised and sword drawn. As it moved, something was emerging from its hand, and without pausing, it threw what appeared to be several sharp red crystals, about the size of my fist, in our direction. I aimed my shield carefully, and they all ricocheted off, although I was surprised by the force with which they struck. All the pieces but one, that is, which struck the ground and exploded in a cloud of razor-sharp shards.
Dorian waved his hand nonchalantly, and we three were encased in a magical barrier, the fragments of lyrium bouncing away at an odd angle.
The creature kept charging, though, and it struck at me first, swinging down a fist and arm jutting with more deadly crystals. I caught the blow on my shield, my knees nearly buckling—Evelyn was right; they were so strong!—and sunk my sword into its abdomen, twisting the weapon viciously.
What should have been a horribly painful wound did not faze it, however, and it roared at me, then began to make a disgusting retching noise. I yanked out my blade and dove to the side, coming up in a crouch just in time to see a stream of red liquid burst forth from the creature, drenching the area where I'd been. I could feel the heat of the fluid from where I stood, and it smelled sweet and seductive, like lyrium. It was repulsive, and I could not help but gag.
Dorian had retreated back, but as the creature spewed its disgusting fluid, I saw Evelyn step forward and move…into…it. Her form became briefly translucent, the vomit simply passed through her, and then her form and that of the monster overlapped for one brief second before she became…real again. The ground shuddered, there was a terrible crack and the creature was knocked several feet back behind her, falling motionless to the ground.
She continued moving forward calmly, towards the armored Templars, who by now had regained their shields and begun to engage Cassandra. Evelyn's barrier pulsed with even more energy than before, lighting crackling across the surface of her skin.
I was moving again, hurrying to place myself in front of her—why was she moving so close?—when a Templar ran at her, laying a heavy overhand blow towards her. She put her hand up instead of her staff, but the sword simply bounced off. Rather than being weakened, her barrier appeared to increase in energy, sending a bolt of electricity rippling down the Templar's sword and delivering a nasty shock.
I heard him draw in his breath with a hiss, was close enough to see the red veins crisscrossing his skin, when he exploded in a ball of Dorian's flame. He screamed and ran, making it for just a few feet before collapsing in a smoldering, twitching heap.
I ran towards Cassandra, then, who had been able to hold off the two remaining Templars with shield and careful parrying, but was unable to press her attack further. I approached from the side, when a crossbow bolt sank into the nearest Templar's shoulder.
Taking advantage of his distraction, I kicked him in the side of the knee. There was a crunch, and he fell—they're still human, and that blasted armor still crumples in the same place. I followed it up with a slash of my sword, and his head hit the ground with a spray of blood. Cassandra finished her Templar off with a deep slice into his shoulder at the same time. She braced her foot on him, and yanked her sword out as he fell.
The courtyard was silent again, save for the sizzle and pop of the burning Templar's body. The protective barrier Dorian had put around me vanished.
I hurried over to Evelyn and grabbed her arm, hissing, "What are you doing? You need to stay back with Dorian." I felt a tingling in my hand and looked down. Her barrier was still there, crackling with energy. I'd never seen a mage maintain one for so long.
She looked down at my hand, and dismissed the barrier. "We need to keep moving," she said. "These guards were obviously here to delay us and destroy evidence, and the longer we tarry, the more we will lose. I will be well." She patted my hand, so I let go of her arm, and she turned and walked away.
Varric clapped me on the shoulder as he walked past. "Don't let it get you down, Curly. The Inquisitor can take care of herself."
We slowly approached the door to the temple, Evelyn in the lead despite my disapproval. As we ascended the stairs, the huge door slammed open. We began to back down the stairs.
A moment later, an enormous scream sounded through the courtyard. In the entrance to the temple stood another monster, this one three times the size of the last. I'd received a report on these Behemoths from one of my Templar subordinates, but seeing a being made entirely out of lyrium, the crystals that formed its body jutting out at all odd angles, razor-sharp claws at the end of one arm and a handless cudgel at the other—I was not prepared. Most of all, I was not prepared for the similarities it still bore to a Templar, to the man or woman it must have once been.
The entire time we fought it, it never stopped screaming.
From behind the Behemoth emerged other figures—marksmen, Knights, more Horrors, and creatures that moved like quicksilver, low and close to the ground, their arms spikes of crystal. We were in very deep trouble.
"Cassandra, archers!" the Inquisitor ordered. "Varric, high ground! Dorian, ice! Cullen, to me—those Shadows are going to try to flank us. Take them out if you can, but watch my back! I'll slow them down."
She put her barrier up around us both, standing loose and comfortable. As she'd predicted, the Shadows ran to her right and attempted to come up behind her. I stood at her back and swung at one, but it easily evaded me—they were preternaturally fast. And then she tapped the blade of her staff lightly against the flagstones three times. I could feel her cast a powerful disruption field, and as soon as the creatures came within range, they just…stopped.
"Hit them hard, please," she called. There were four all together. The first I approached from the side, thrusting my sword in a weak spot I remembered at the waist of its armor. I pulled the sword out and used the momentum to swing at the next creature, the blade biting deep into its shoulder. I heard Dorian laugh, and the creature next to me froze, so I held my sword where it was and spun my body around, smashing my shield into the creature's helmeted face. It shattered and fell. I reclaimed my sword and looked for the next Shadow, but it was twitching at Evelyn's feet, small spikes of electrical discharge still dancing across its face.
I looked up. Cassandra had cut a path through the archers, but as she fought, the Behemoth loomed up beside her and swung its enormous arm, catching her in the side and sending her flying. She hit the wall and slid down, laying still. The creature frosted over and slowed dramatically, so it did not approach and finish her, but it was only a matter of time.
"Varric, the Knights, please," she called, and I saw a large jar of something fly over my head and land with a crash amongst the warriors to our left. A loud buzzing emerged, and the Templar Knights, who remained at least partially flesh, began to scream and scatter, swatting at themselves.
"Little help here!" yelled Dorian. I turned to see him moving towards us, frantically backing away from two Horrors who had come into melee range, slinging ice as quickly as possible. They were slowed, but still approaching. He had blood running down his face, and was gripping one hand to his side. Varric jumped down beside him and sank a flurry of bolts into one monster, which stumbled and fell, but the other kept coming. It flung a lyrium crystal in the dwarf's direction and struck him in the arm with a sickening crack. He dropped Bianca.
A moment later, I heard a whisper of air and felt the thud of an arrow before the pain blossomed through my thigh. I had gotten too far from Evelyn, and her barrier no longer surrounded me. Off-balance, I dropped momentarily to my knee and brought my shield up, but I saw more arrows coming and knew I would be unable to fully protect myself. She glanced at me, and slung her staff behind her back.
Several things happened in very quick succession. Evelyn stepped in front of me, fully in the path of the oncoming arrows. She drew something shining-a sword?—and swiped it at them, sending the bolts flying in the opposite direction. There was a crack of sound, and I saw a shockwave travel back to the remaining three archers and knock them off their feet. One of them had his own arrow in his chest.
And then she tore a hole in reality, a green gash directly above our heads.
The flagstones under our feet glowed with white symbols for a moment. She pushed her hands up—the strange magical blade glowing so blue-white I could not look directly at it—and then pulled down. There was a bone-shaking thrum of energy, and green light shot downwards and struck the ground. Half a second later, wherever that light had hit, familiar glowing fireflies floated up and swirled and danced around us in the sunlight. I started when I recognized the feeling: she was healing us. I reached down and pulled the arrow from my leg. The pain was terrible and shooting, but it only lasted for a moment, because the wound closed. The fireflies remained, bobbing and hovering near us all.
Dorian grabbed Varric with one hand and Bianca with the other, and pulled them both to the side, darting out of the way of the Horror. I turned to see Cassandra cutting down the archers, but that meant…
The Behemoth was barreling towards me and Evelyn. A streak of ice shot over my shoulder and slowed it, and a glistening green bolt seemed to immobilize its blunt arm, but the monster's sheer mass kept it moving forward towards us.
"Get your sword up high, Cullen, and brace yourself." Evelyn called above its terrible screams, and calmly watched it approach. "A forty-five degree angle would be optimal." A few feet closer, and she went—through—the creature and then became solid again, her form overlapping with it for just a moment, and then it was…pushed...out of the space she inhabited with an incredible amount of energy and another loud crack. The force of the blast propelled the creature down and forward to its knees—and onto my sword. I felt something in my shoulder tear as its weight bore down upon me, but just as quickly as the pain had come, it vanished.
I let go of the hilt as it tumbled towards me and dove out of the way. The creature still lived, however, and caught itself on its grotesque clawed arm.
Standing behind the Behemoth, Evelyn pulled down an enormous bolt of lightning that rippled through the creature, paralyzing it just long enough for her to plunge her strange blade into its back, all the way to the hilt.
I initially thought I'd been deafened by the thunderbolt, but then I realized: it had finally stopped screaming.
I turned to see that Cassandra, Varric, and Dorian had chased down the remaining Knights. Only one remained, but Dorian blasted him with a wave of force that pushed him back within Cassandra's reach, and the Templar's head hit the ground, followed a few seconds later by his body.
It was quiet again, only the sounds of fire and the harshness of our breath. The fireflies flickered around me for another second or two, then vanished. Suddenly light-headed, I bent over, my hands on my knees, and vomited up my apple and hunk of cheese.
Evelyn gently took my hand and pulled me away from the body of the Behemoth. The air smelled pungent, like raw lyrium. I could barely stand.
"It's making you sick, Cullen," she said gently. "You need to get away from it."
She led me to some stairs to the battlements, as far away from the Templar corpses as she could find. She stroked my hair and held a cool hand on the back of my neck as I retched.
"The same thing happened to us all the first time we fought them," Cassandra said stiffly. The sympathy in her voice sounded unnatural to my ears, but it was there nonetheless. "Sometimes it still occurs. It will pass soon enough."
"Should we go in without him?" asked Dorian. "There's bound to be more deposits inside, even if we've killed all of the bastards."
Varric handed me a skin of water. I rinsed my mouth and spat, then drank. Evelyn had stopped touching me, and I missed the feeling of her hands.
"Give him a moment," Evelyn said. "It's important that he be here. He has worked for this."
I pulled off one of my gloves, grabbed one of her hands in both of mine. Her fingers were still cool to the touch.
"Maker, Evelyn, I'm sorry," I said desperately.
"It is fine, Commander," she said, lightly trying to tug her hand away. "As Cassandra said—"
"That's not what I meant," I said, and pressed an urgent kiss to the center of her palm. "I love you and I'm sorry I've been such a…such a prick."
A blush spread across her cheekbones. I saw Cassandra raise an eyebrow, while Varric rocked back on his heels and grinned, casting a knowing glance at Dorian. The mage rolled his eyes at the dwarf's look. I didn't care.
"Now is…not the time to discuss this, Cullen," she said, trying harder to pull her hand away.
"Oh, by all means, discuss!" Dorian chimed in. "I'm suddenly in much less of a hurry to go inside than I was before."
"Commander!" she snapped, yanking her hand from mine. "My magical techniques depend on me maintaining a degree of calm and…and inner focus. I will talk to you about this, but not now. I am going to go over there," she pointed haphazardly in a direction, "and attempt to compose myself. You are going to stay here where you belong."
She stood up and strode to the opposite side of the courtyard. She turned her back to us, and crossed her arms around her torso, swaying just a bit.
Varric snickered. "So much for serenity." He elbowed Dorian. "I told you."
"No," Dorian sneered, "I told you. Literally months ago. I complemented the Inquisitor for her exquisite taste in strapping Templars, and she said—"
"Enough," snapped Cassandra. "Cease your inane and disrespectful prattling."
I ignored them and watched Evelyn until she returned. Her face and eyes were relaxed again, her posture loose. She was right. Now was not the time, but after seeing that enormous creature so close to her, I had to try.
"I apologize for the delay," she said calmly. "Shall we continue?"
We went through the open door of the Temple of Dumat, giving the bodies of the monstrous Templars a wide berth.