Rylen watched her carefully during the journey home. His orders were specific: Watch and observe the Inquisitor. Cullen was insistent that he used discretion when doing so but to keep a close eye on her. At first, the Starkhaven templar thought that his assignment would be an easy one. The woman was easy going, made conversation with everyone that rode with her, even taking time out to get to know everyone more. But since the night that the dwarf was pushing for information about wedding plans, Rylen began to feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise. Something was different.

When he saw the rage in her eyes at the ritual tower as she released the blast from her hand at the Venatori, he felt a shift in the Veil. Although he was no longer taking regular doses of lyrium himself he had enough coursing in his veins that he felt her pulling on the Veil as mages did. Since she was a warrior, he did not know if his powers would stop her as it would a mage. Just as he was preparing to hit her with a spell purge, he was going to signal another templar to cast annulment on her. The mark dissipated and she calmed herself before anything could happen.

During the ride home, she remained withdrawn. Refusing to talk or sit around the fire with anyone. She spent most of her time in her tent or alone. No one questioned her and when one of his templars asked about her taking watch, the Inquisitor's immediate companions said no, and they would take her turn. Rylen noticed the only person that had been able to get closer to her even briefly was the Tevinter mage. At one point while in the woods trying to relieve himself, he found the woman resting her head on the mage's lap, in tears. The mage just sat there with her, quietly stroking his hand up and down her back. If the templar had not already known that the mage favored the company of men, he would have assumed there was something intimate between them.

When they returned to Skyhold, he watched as she dismounted her horse and passed the reins to one of the stable boys. Not saying a word, she grabbed her bags, placed them over her shoulders and made her way up the main stairs of the keep. The templar watched as she entered the main hall and disappeared.

Turning he noticed his commander standing on the battlements. His eyes as well were focused on the Inquisitor, following her from the stable to the keep. His commander looked exhausted, discoloration under his eyes from the lack of sleep. He admired the man that he had followed from the Kirkwall Gallows to serve under him when the Inquisition was just starting. The man longed to break free from the lyrium leash that the Chantry held on them. Rylen was still decreasing his dosage where Cullen had completely quit. Every day was a new challenge for him to face but he knew his commander fought against more than just his lyrium addiction.

When the commander's eyes met his, the other man motioned to his office before turning to walk away. Rylen nodded as he grabbed his saddlebags. He gave the templars under his charge orders to clean up, grab something to fill their stomachs and to get some desired sleep. The Inquisitor wasted no time returning to Skyhold after the hard fight they had completed at the tower. They were all ready to be back home at the fortress.

Climbing the steps, taking two at a time, Rylen found the door to the commander's office open. Cullen stood inside, hands on top of his desk as he looked down at the map that was splayed out across it.

"I hear it didn't go as well as hoped?" Cullen said as he motioned to the door for Rylen to close it behind him as he entered.

Shaking his head, the templar shut the door and stepped further into the office. "No, it didn't. This Erimond seemed to know we were coming. He was prepared for us."

"Give me a run down of what happened. You can give me a written report once you've gotten some rest and food."

Nodding, Rylen dropped his bags on the floor as he moved closer to the desk. He tapped the spot where the tower was located on the map. "We arrived to find Wardens…mages…killing warriors and rogues. They were using blood magics to bind themselves to demons."

"Maker's breath," Cullen gasped. "Wardens condoning blood magic? What in Andraste's name is going on out there?"

Rylen knew that as soon as he told his commander that information it would not go well. He did not know the extent of the trauma that the other man had went through, but he knew it was traumatic. He shrugged. "I don't know if they condoned it or if they were being forced into it. This Erimond was wielding blood magic as well. I haven't seen anything like it before. Even at Kirkwall it was different when that shit started."

Running a gloved hand over his face, Cullen shook his head. He could feel his body shake from the painful memories invading his thoughts. "What happened next?"

"This mage somehow tried to control the Inquisitor. He did something to cause her mark to surge and it must have been painful because she was down on her knees, screaming for a bit." Rylen shook his head. "Not sure how she got up, but she did. It was like she was able to use the mark against that Venatori."

He saw Cullen tense up at the mention of the Inquisitor. His commander stared at him from across the office, his eyes widened, beads of sweat across his forehead. Scratching the side of his head, Rylen blew out a heavy breath.

"Not to be disrespectful but that woman is a lot tougher than I thought she was. She was screaming in pain from that cursed thing on her hand and then the next minute she was releasing a charge of power that I haven't seen a mage could conjure. She knocked them back and then started swinging her sword around like it was a butter knife." Placing his hands on his hips, he watched as his commander's shoulders relaxed. A smile curled his lips. "She's improved since that day you two went at each other in Haven. Might even best you if given another chance."

Wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, Cullen found himself smiling at the thought. "I feel like I may need to defend my honor if I am losing faith from my second in command."

Rylen chuckled. "Aye, sir."

"Anything else of importance?" Cullen asked when he saw the other man tapping a finger against his hip. "What are you not telling me, Rylen?"

Inhaling sharply, Rylen was unable to look the other man in the eye. His attention suddenly moved to the floating dust seen in the light that was filtering into the office through the stained glass.

"Well, spit it out," Cullen ordered.

"She…um…she became a bit unhinged when it was over."

Cullen walked around the desk to stand in front of the other man. "What do you mean? Unhinged?"

"She and her companions were starting to argue about what the Wardens were doing there. I wasn't paying attention to what they were saying because I was focused on her hand glowing again." Rylen clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, shaking his head. "It started to spark, it was humming with energy. I've seen a lot of mage's cast spells of all types over the years as a templar back in Starkhaven and in Kirkwall." He shook his head again before turning to look at the commander. "I ain't seen anything like that before."

"She wielded magic?" Cullen asked.

Shrugging, Rylen said, "I don't know what it was. I was about to smite her."

Cullen's eyes widened. "Did you smite her? She's not a mage. Did it work?"

"Never was able to do it. That mage…uh…Pavus. That's it. He was able to talk to her down." A shiver went through the templar. "Seriously, it scared the shite out of me, Commander." He covered his mouth to yawn. Fatigue setting in. "Although I'd like to try it and see if it would do anything."

"You want to smite the Inquisitor?"

"I mean…that thing is like magic, right? She's not a mage but that mark…" His voice trailed off before shrugging again. "It's not normal what she can do."

Rylen watched as the commander stepped forward. A look in his eyes that he had not seen before.

"Do not question our Inquisitor. She has sacrificed much to be here to help close the breaches and fight against this Corypheus." Straightening himself, he took a step back. "We all fight demons, Rylen. We know that the most as templars."

Nodding, Rylen thought about it. The commander was right, they were all fighting their own demons. Their own histories that they kept to themselves. Yet the look in her eyes as the mark seemed to pull from the Fade was frightening.

"Aye, sir. I know you work with her more than I do. I just report what I see, Commander. If we were still in the Gallows, I would have her watched."

Cullen turned away from him and walked around his desk. He moved to stand beside the window and looked out. "You're dismissed."

Picking up his bag, Rylen walked to the door and pulled it open. "Sir, maybe I'm still a little prejudice against mages and what they can do. I'm working on that but maybe ask Seeker Pentaghast for her assessment. She was there as well and standing beside the Inquisitor when it happened."

Resting his face in the palm of his hand, Cullen inhaled deeply. "Get some rest, Rylen. It's been a long, hard mission."

"Aye, sir." Rylen stepped out of the office and looked back over his shoulder at the commander before pulling the door shut. He knew that the commander would not appreciate his openness about what he saw at the tower, but the man needed to know.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Cullen's fist balled up as soon as the office door closed behind Rylen as he left. He swung around, striking the bookshelf beside him. The wood frame began to wobble, and he saw the small box sitting there threatening to fall from the edge. Grabbing the box, he carefully returned it back on the shelf.

Stepping away from the wall, he looked down at his trembling hands. He knew he should be taking the lyrium. It was the only way for him to stay prepared, stay alert to what was needed of him. It would lift the fog that covered his mind, giving him clarity. The battle against his addiction was getting more difficult to deal with each day.

Pushing the thoughts out of his head, he took off his cloak and draped it over his chair. He had soldiers and recruits to train that morning. Keeping himself busy, focused was the only way to keep the demons at bay. Picking up his sword and shield, he left his office. The cool air was refreshing against his heated skin.

He made a mental note to speak with Cassandra about what happened. After weeks away he knew they would need a warm meal, a hot bath and to sleep. Speaking with the Seeker was on his list of things to do.

"Pain deep inside. Clawing to escape. Need…no, desire to touch."

Cullen spun around to look for the voice. When he finally found him, Cole was sitting on a beam in the corner of his office. His feet bouncing back and forth as he rocked himself. His arms wrapped tight around himself as his head hung low.

"Not now, Cole," Cullen said. He hoped that if he just ignored the spirit boy he would go away. "I don't have time for this."

"She's afraid of what will happen. If she fails."

Turning back around, he looked up at Cole once again. "The Inquisitor? What do you mean?"

"She fears the Elder One. The man with the mask."

Cullen rubbed his chin. "The Elder One? That's Corypheus." Shaking his head, he did not understand who the other was. "Who wears the mask, Cole?"

"It hides itself in the shadows," Cole answered. "Waiting for the right time. It is gone now."

"Then where is it? Where is this person?"

Cole shook his head, his hat moving back and forth as he continued to rock himself. "No longer here. Gone away with the bright light."

Wiping his hand across his face, Cullen growled. The spirit was talking in circles as usual. Speaking with Cole often left him a headache or increase the one he already had.

"Let me see if I understand you, Cole. She – the Inquisitor – fears the Elder One that's Corypheus. But she's afraid of the man with the mask who hides in the shadows and he's no longer here. He left with a bright light."

Lifting his eyes, Cole looked down at the commander curiously. "That's what I said."

Blowing out a heavy breath, Cullen shook his head. "Sometimes I wished you'd just say it then." Chuckling, he smiled at the spirit boy. "Is there anything else?"

Cole tilted his head to the side as he began to tap his fingers on his knees. He moved his head around as if he were trying to listen to a whisper from some far-off distance. "Afraid. Haunted. Need to speak but not sure if the words will come out. Soft like silk. Smells like jasmine. Warm like the midday sun."

Swallowing hard, Cullen did not need to ask the spirit who he was talking about now. He was talking about him. "Cole, I – "

"You fear she won't listen. Afraid that she'll run away if you tell her the truth. Afraid of the past. Unsure what lies ahead."

"This is ridiculous," Cullen thought. He was talking to a spirit about his issues. A man who did not like spirits or demons was now talking to one like it was just another day for him.

"She thinks the same as you but different," Cole said. He scratched the side of his head. "Smooth like worn leather. Smells like fresh rainfall. Arms feel safe."

"She's thinking about me?" he thought. "What else?" he said, lifting his eyes to the ceiling again. Only this time, Cullen found the spirit gone. Throwing his hands into the air, he groaned. Just when he thought he was understanding Cole he vanishes. Running both hands through his hair, he stared at the empty space.

Dropping his arms to his side, he turned around and looked at the little wooden box on his bookshelf. Walking over to it, he carefully opened the box and looked down at the pendant inside. His fingers reached out to touch the pendant but stopped before his fingers touched the metal against his skin. When the sibling had gave it to him, he thought it was pointless. There was no reason a phylactery for someone who was not a mage to work. Never in his templar training or education had he ever heard of the use of phylactery to find a non-mage.

Closing the lid, he walked away from it. Removing his cloak, he placed it on the back of his chair before picking up his sword and shield. Working his frustrations out in the practice yard. Hitting dummies always helped him to relieve stress and clear his head.

That evening he knew he would need to speak to her either with or without the sibling there. She needed to know about the chance that they were poisoned by the thorns and there was a possible cure for it. But he did not want to do it right after she returned from her journey. He would speak to Cassandra first to inquire about Rylen's concerns. Then he would speak with the Inquisitor.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Leliana knelt before the makeshift shrine that was in the rookery. Hands folded together, eyes closed, head lowered in silent prayer. There were still many unanswered questions that she had for the Maker. Years ago, she knew that Maker spoke to her. Told her that she was to join the Grey Wardens, Solona Amell and Alistair Theirin, on their quest to end the Blight. Morrigan thought her mad. Alistair had questioned her mental stability. But it was Solona who accepted her into their fold. If she had not joined them in Lothering, she herself would be dead as well.

"You have given me a purpose, Andraste," Leliana prayed as her eyelids slowly lifted to look at the small statue on the shrine. "I pray that you speak to me again. To tell me what it is I need to do."

Feeling a pinch on her shoulder, she turned her head to see a raven perched on her shoulder. The bird lowered its head to brush against the side of hers. Standing up, she rubbed a finger across the crop of the raven.

"Welcome back, friend," she said, walking over to her desk. She picked up a small dried mealworm and held it in front of the raven. It greedily snapped at it, eating it quickly. "Did you return with news?"

The silver capsule was tied to the raven's left leg. Untying the blue silk ribbon, she walked over to the other side of the rookery and held out her finger. The bird hopped down from her shoulder then onto the perch beside her. Leliana scooped a small amount of feed and placed it on the dish next to the perch for the raven to enjoy.

"Let's see what our teryna has to say," Leliana said as she opened the capsule. Unfolding the parchment, she shook her head as she read it. "I know dear friend. These are strange times we live in."

Sitting down at her desk, she picked up a parchment and quill to begin to write. She had two missives to be sent. One return message to Highever. Another to Starkhaven.

As spymaster, Leliana had been involved with many of proposals, betrothals, weddings and even breaking up a few marriages. When her friend asked her to stay out of it, she had. When Prince Vael appeared in Skyhold, she kept quiet and held her tongue. When she discovered that the Inquisitor did not want this marriage, she was more than happy to send a letter to her friend.

She loved a royal wedding. The flowers. The dresses. The shoes. The music and dancing. Days of celebrating. But this was one wedding she will gladly prevent from happening.

Standing up, she walked over to the cages and retrieved a raven. Strapping a silver capsule to its leg, she told it where to go and released it. Doing the same to the second bird, she released it into the air. Following the birds out, she stood on the balcony outside of the rookery and watched as each bird took flight towards the northeast.

"Safe journey, my friends," Leliana said as she folded her hands behind her back. "May the Maker guide you."