Author's Note: I'm going to (hopefully) assume you guys know by now that the big chunks of text in italics means a 'flashback'. Yeah… anyway continue on. As you were.

"Hey," I heard his cheery voice before looking up to connect it to a face. My eyes were lazy, slowly lining up the armor to a bright, angular face of a happy templar. I blinked.

"Hi," I said back, no hostility entering my voice. We were far past that from the days (or weeks) ago when every greeting felt like a burden. Cullen eased against the bookcase beside me and crossed his arms.

"Listen, so I uh - heard it was your birthday today and-" he paused, fidgeting and shifting in his position until he finally decided it was too difficult to look casual and straightened back up. "I brought you something. That is-it's a present. For you."

I turned my full attention to him, utterly surprised as he pretended to look at the ceiling and held out a small, silk-wrapped parchment. I took the gift in silence and let it drop on my lap, staring at it like an alien creature. My brow creased.

"What's this for?" I asked bluntly, unsure what to make of a present from a templar. He wasn't trying to pull one over on me, was he? I would curse his smallclothes for an eternity if he tried to pull that five-year-old rubbish on me. I turned accusing, mistrusting eyes to his face. He glanced down and blushed before shifting again and crossing his arms to face the doorway. He seemed awfully nervous.

"Just something I thought you might like, yahknow..?" he said, trying so very hard to seem at ease. I narrowed my gaze and felt a small smile slipping onto my lips.

"You don't have much practice with giving other people gifts, do you?" I teased. I heard an almost-laugh try to surface, but instead come out as an exasperated snort through his nose.

"No, just with pretty magi, it seems," he said. A little grin betrayed me and curled on the edge of my lips. A few weeks ago he wouldn't have had the stones to say such a thing-I felt like my little templar boy was beginning to grow up. That or he was hanging around me too much.

"That was cute," I laughed while crossing my arms and settling back into my seat. A sidelong glance told me no one was within a good twenty-foot radius; we were safe to talk for the moment. I was safe to ease up a bit-he could have that much, at least.

"What?" he asked, turning to me with that same, slightly bewildered look that so often stole his features. I chuckled again and nodded, my index pointing directly at his nose.

"That," I said. "You're trying to be clever with me; I find it cute." This caused him to madly blush and turn his eyes away, frightened back into his safe hideaway hole where bashfulness and skittish behavior ruled his persona. I huffed out a sigh.

"O-Oh I dunno what you.. mean," he stuttered, quickly trying to cover himself as he fell back into the same, hesitant safety net he knew too well. I rolled my eyes and shook my head with a faint smile.

"We'll just have to work on your retentiveness to that, I suppose," I laughed, feeling warm. I was feeling in a generous, content mood today. Why not? Cullen looked expectantly at me-perhaps a little surprised as well at my generosity of conversation-before rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and smiling at the floor. I tilted my head. He did look rather cute sometimes when he smiled that way.

"Yeah, I suppose.." he echoed in a quiet murmur. Before I had a chance to speak up again, another voice entered the conversation as Jowan bounded around a bookcase and practically laid himself on top of my books.

"Isthalla, Isthalla, Isthaaalllaaaa-" he shrieked like a happy child while unknowingly stepping between the space where only Cullen and I had resided before. Cullen stepped away, putting his hands up in surrender as he nodded and took his cue, turning to walk away. I briefly nodded after him with a knowing smile.

"Hello, Jowan," I laughed.

The world hazed back into my conscious in a fog of grey. I heard muddy, distant voices at first, then focused as they became louder and more irritating.

"I want him LOCKED UP! I will not have this STUPIDITY in MY TOWER!" Greagoir's voice. The sound of muffled, agreeing templars. I opened one eye to find myself staring at the carpeted floor. I blinked, trying to recall the last moments of consciousness. Screaming. Jowan. Blood.

Jowan…

I was on my feet in an instant, circling around in a dazed panic and finding myself alone. The others were slowly coming to as well. Greagoir was already on his feet, storming back from the broken front gates where-undoubtedly-someone had just escaped through. I whirled around to find Jowan's spot now empty, and Lily huddled in the corner of the room with her hands covering her face. A knot formed in my chest.

"Don't even think about it, mage," Greagoir's voice cut through my thoughts like ice. I lowered my hand-which had been raised to comfort Lily-and turned hardened eyes right back to his face. I glared.

"Go to hell," I scoffed at him.

Greagoir's patience snapped. He exploded into a flurry of movement seconds later, grabbing me roughly by the wrists before jerking them behind my back and disabling me. A harsh elbow to my spine ensured my obedience as I doubled over and coughed, hissing in pain.

"As for this one, I have no more tolerance!" he roared over the still-dazed bodies lumbering out of their blackened nightmares. I could see Cullen at the far end of the room stumbling to his feet, his hands spread out against the stone wall for support. My heart jumped into my throat.

I opened my mouth to call out his name, and felt Greagoir's armored hand catch me sharply across the jaw. I shrieked in my surprise and sudden pain, buckling over once again as the throb set in. Greagoir was binding my hands with rope, but I felt numb to his actions, and even his words. They were beginning to turn into a dull roar, to be honest. I saw blood from my mouth drip onto the floor, mixed with tears. I felt the memory before the blackout begin to return to me with biting force.

Screams. A knife in his hand. I shut my eyes.

Jowan… what have you done?

Greagoir had me on my knees now, hands tied behind my back, and head hanging with my matted, black hair hiding my face. I felt ashamed, confused, and betrayed. Angry, injured tears began to slip down my face as I felt it sinking deep down into my chest and burning there like a fire.

You lied to me, too. Even you…

The shock would not subside. I couldn't focus, couldn't keep my attention on Irving and Greagoir shouting at one another as more and more magi and templars from the mess hall began to pour into the entrance foyer. The guards had all gotten to their feet now, circling me like scavengers prepared to strike. I glared at them, hated them, and hurt them with my eyes. It was my only protection now.

He stood at the farthest corner of the room, away from everyone else and hunkered in the shadows. He was backed into the wall as a caged animal, brown eyes widening every second the longer he stared at me. I looked at him with sullen, tear-stained eyes, lost to my own guilt and hurt. I could not fight anymore. I didn't want to. Disappointment fell on my face as I turned away from his accusing, horrified gaze and looked at the floor.

I could at least die with my conscious. I could not stand to face that look anymore; how it hurt more than anything I could know.

I'm sorry… Cullen.

Bits and pieces of conversation. Arguing. Finally, a voice splitting through the numbed roar of faceless anger. A light.

"She is coming with me," he said, stepping forward. I raised my eyes level to his face, and found him standing in front of me. Dark, penetrating eyes that disturbed me still yet unearthed my respect in profound ways. I crumpled my face in what I couldn't place as anything other than disbelieving spite.

Why, after all this? Why?

I felt miserable. Powerless. Stupid. Why on earth would he give a damn about someone-something-so despised and useless? I couldn't even afford to protect Cullen, or Jowan. I couldn't even protect myself. I didn't want this human's misplaced pity. I hated it.

More mindless shouting from Greagoir-something I didn't care to decipher. My ears were numbed by the repetitive memory of Jowan's voice, cutting through the silence. His last, defiant words as he drove a knife into his hand and destroyed what was left of our life together. He lied.

"I invoke the Rite of Conscription," his voice cut through again. This time I turned my full attention to him, my wild, tear-stained eyes locking on his face. I couldn't understand his motives, nor understand what he was after. All that I knew in that moment was this-he was the only thing standing between me and execution.

It takes a stranger to find your trust…

Her voice mocked me still, echoing in my mind like a well-remembered parasite. I hung my head in my bitterness and heard the disruptive shouts of Greagoir as Irving forced him back.

"You are no friend of the Circle, Duncan!" he snarled. "MARK ME! I will have you both HANGED for this treason! You save an abomination that will make you regret this for the rest of your miserable LIFE- GET OFF ME!"

In my daze I realized I was walking, Duncan at my side as he guided me towards the door in a hurried stride. I looked over my shoulder and found Greagoir struggling to break free from Irving and Wynne's persistent hands.

"So help me! If you EVER bring that abomination back here - may the MAKER strike you down into the darkest HELL of the Fade!"

This was my final memory of the Circle.

I stepped out into the cool shores of Lake Calenhad for the first time and turned to find Duncan offering his hand.

"Come, Isthalla.." he said to me. I took his hand and stepped quietly into the boat.

"We have much to discuss."