CULLEN

"Trevelyan gave up the Red Templars' main source of red lyrium," I stated as I glanced between Leliana and Josephine. We'd returned only a few hours before, Elizabeth and I giving a recount of all that had occurred at Valammar.

"Not without...persuasion," Elizabeth cooed, "I daresay our fine Commander is far more adept at playing games than he lets on."

Leliana's brows rose as she looked between the two of us. "Whatever could you have promised to get her to loosen her tongue? She's been adamant since the beginning that she would give nothing up without her family's safety being secure."

Elizabeth put a finger to her lips. "A lady never tells of her exploits, Sister Nightingale."

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. For the Maker's sake. "Enough, Elizabeth."

"Oh, let me have my fun," Elizabeth pouted. "I believe Leliana and Josephine know you well enough that they would never suspect infidelity on your part to our darling Talitha."

"Then stop insinuating the opposite," I growled.

"I will when you stop getting so riled up about it," she challenged. "You make it too much fun."

I shot her a glare. "If I recall correctly, we were in this particular predicament before in Haven. It nearly cost me the female I love. You will not put me in that position again."

Elizabeth looked to the other women and shrugged. "See? Too much fun."

"For Andraste's sake," I sighed.

"Will you calm down you overgrown cat? Honestly, how have you not fallen over dead? You need to loosen up, Cullen."

"Can we focus on why we're actually here?" I demanded.

"The Carta have been true to their word, a large shipment of lyrium is to be delivered to us within a fortnight," Josephine informed us. "All contracts have been arranged and signed. Barris and his men will soon be relieved of any strain and the mages will have plenty for their work."

"Very good," I nodded.

"As to Elizabeth," Leliana looked to the Trevelyan woman. "As your information concerning Valammar was correct and you were instrumental in orchestrating our deal with the Carta, I gave word to Charter and the others to move on the Red Templars keeping your family hostage. Your family is safe and currently in transit to Skyhold. A small group of my spies will remain at the estate to keep up the ruse and collect any communiqués received."

"Thank the Maker," Elizabeth breathed, "Truly, thank you for this."

"Do not thank me yet," Leliana warned, "You still have much to answer for."

Elizabeth's nonchalant demeanor dropped. "I know." She looked between us all. "Lucius is at Caer Oswin. Doing what, I cannot say. I know Cassandra has been searching for Seekers that are missing. I...can say with some certainty that they are there as well."

"How do you know this?" I asked.

Elizabeth shifted on her feet. "Before Lucius sent me to you all, I was there...with him. Seekers arrived regularly, confused about being called back. Before I could discover what he was up to, he sent me to the Hinterlands. No doubt to keep me from investigating." She met my eyes. "I fear what he is doing."

"So, is the Inquisitor to address Sahrnia and Lucius before she returns?" I questioned.

Josephine shook her head. "No. The time for the Winter Palace draws too near. I expect an official invitation from Grand Duke Gaspard at any moment. Empress Celene is trying to bar our involvement, but given all the Inquisitor has done to help stabilize Orlais...she will be outmaneuvered in this."

"We must wait to see to these things? This could be crucial to thwarting Corypheus and the Red Templars!"

"No one is more aware of that than I, Commander," Josephine scolded. "But the Empress's life is in danger. And her assassination is part of Corypheus's plans. We cannot ignore this threat. Celene's death would cause chaos the likes of which we have never seen. Not to mention what Corypheus has in store should his assassin succeed. We will need everyone in attendance—not only to protect Celene, but to protect the Inquisitor. Our hands are tied."

I clenched my jaw. So much sitting and waiting while our enemy moves unhindered. How many are dying while we do nothing? How many templars are falling to red lyrium as we are focused elsewhere?
 My head began pulsing with the headache that had been building all morning. The pounding vibrating my very bones. It was growing difficult to breathe, the room closing in tighter and tighter. The demon's cloying scent invaded my nose—my very mind—as her claws raked along my skull. I could hear the deadly song of the red lyrium in my ears as if the shards Dagna had below my feet were in the very room. I could smell lyrium on me as if the numerous baths I had taken since leaving Valammar could never wash it away.

"You may need everyone important," Elizabeth interjected, pulling me back to the room. "But I could be of use."

"Meaning?" Leliana quirked a brow.

"I need to find the Red Templar mining operations and where Samson has moved to. I need to do it now before Lucius or any of the others realize that I've turned on them."

"No," I barked.

Elizabeth turned on me, her eyes fierce. "Let it go! I swear to the Maker, Cullen, I have had enough! I am on your side! I may never earn your trust again, but I am an agent of the Inquisition. I will see Corypheus and all his followers burn! They threatened my family! They threatened to do horrific and vile things to my little sister—she's ten! Ten! And they threatened to force feed her red lyrium before letting the monstrous ones 'play' with her. My father they were going to turn into a Red Templar knight to lead some of them. My mother they were going to use to experiment on.
"They were going to so violate my family that I...I had no choice. I tried to get to them...to kill the Red Templars that held them myself, but Leliana had already deduced what I was. Dragged me back here in chains to use my family as a bargaining chip—no different than Lucius. But it was the only chance I had, so I played along. Now, my family is free and on their way to safety here within the wall of the Inquisition. I swear on my life—on their lives—I will not rest until our enemy is defeated."

I searched her face. For once, I felt I was seeing the real Elizabeth. Not the persona she cloaked herself in, but the real woman beneath the act. She was nothing but rage and vengeance. "I will leave it up to the Inquisitor."

"Indeed," Leliana agreed, "If you would excuse us, Elizabeth."

"Am I allowed out of the dungeons now?" Elizabeth questioned, her sapphire eyes flicking between us all.

"For your own safety, I would not advise it," Leliana warned. "There is an escort awaiting you. Your cell has been improved, but I fear your life would be in danger if you simply roamed about the grounds."

Her eyes fell. "I understand." She looked back up. "Thank you."

I watched her as she left, conflicting feelings in my chest. Her red hair glinted in the sunlight streaming in and my skull felt as if it were fracturing as the room shifted. Red lyrium everywhere, Meredith's deranged screams.

"Commander?" Josephine's voice called from far away. "Cullen?"

I clenched my jaw and forced myself back to the present. "Apologies."

Her dark eyes flicked over me in concern. "You'd mentioned reaching out to King Alistair about the Inquisition repairing Fort Connor and occupying it?"

Swallowing back bile, I gave a nod. "Yes. Corporal Vale believes we need more room for our men and that the fort would serve as an excellent midway point between those stationed at the villa and those outside the Crossroads. I believed you better equipped to request such a thing."

"I will see what I can do," she offered, "I do not expect him to refuse such a proposal."

"Any more news of our parties while I was away?" I probed.

"Your Talitha has arrived at the oasis, did so a week or so ago, but they've been preoccupied with clearing out various dangers. Ser Barris and the battalion are on their way back to Skyhold," Leliana informed, handing me a report. Quickly scanning over it, I saw mention of Meira and breathed a sigh of relief. "The Plains are stable and they are escorting a group of mages to Skyhold."

"The Inquisitor does not need their assistance in the Approach?" I quirked a brow.

Leliana shook her head. "The situation in the Approach is far worse than we thought. They've seen to all they can and are to begin the journey back by the end of the week to regroup here and form a plan. The Winter Palace will have to come first, but our hands are tied in this matter for the time being."

"'Worse'?" I scoffed. "How can they be worse?"

"Read from the third page of the report," Leliana retorted.

We arrived at the Tevinter ritual tower as the sun was sinking below the horizon, Hawke and Stroud awaiting us. The ritual had already begun from what we could tell and given the thinning of the Veil we all sensed as we approached. The stench of death and blood met my nose the closer to the Wardens we got, piles of dead bodies upon the ground—Warden bodies.
Carefully, we snuck our way to the platform they were occupying, to find demons and Wardens forming a circle. In the middle, two figures were illuminated by the light of a Rift. One held a knife, while the other wore a mask of fear and doubt as he backed away. He wanted no part in what was happening—and what was happening was clear: blood magic. The air was thick with its stench.
Magic and the metallic tang of blood upon the air, the shadowy power crawling along my skin. Concluding that they were using blood magic to summon demons, I was ready to make my move. A hand stopped me as at the Warden's protesting, a man emerged from the shadows. His clothing and accent revealing him to be an Imperial. I will recount the exchange:

"Warden-Commander Clarel's orders were clear," the Imperial chastised.

"This is wrong!" The Warden argued.

"Remember your oath: In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice," the Imperial sneered as the Warden holding the knife killed their comrade. We watched as the Warden who'd resisted fell upon the ground, his body twitching as the last bit of life drained from him. At his death, a demon emerged. The demon was ready to attack, but the Imperial instructed the Warden who'd killed his comrade to act. "Good. Now bind it, just as I showed you."

We watched as the Warden, at this point it obvious he were a mage, cast a spell of some sort upon the demon. It stopped the creature from being hostile, but I did not fail to notice that as the Warden cast his spell, the Imperial had cast a spell of his own.
We watched on as the Warden's demeanor changed. His body going unnaturally still and his eyes glowing red. Not the red of corrupted lyrium, but Fade-born magic of some kind. I looked around at the other Wardens and realized they were the same. As the Warden took his place among the others, we made our move.

"Inquisitor," the Imperial greeted me as we approached, "What an unexpected pleasure. Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, at your service." He lowered himself in a sweeping bow, filled with contempt and mockery.

"You are no Warden," Stroud spit.

"But you are," Erimond retorted as he began to pace before us, no doubt trying to buy time, "The one Clarel let slip. And you found the Inquisitor and came to stop me. Shall we see how that goes?"

I tried to plead with the Wardens, to reveal the truth, but I was met only with blank stares. "Wardens! This man is lying to you!"

"That is a very serious accusation," Erimond chided, a smirk on his mouth, "Let's see what the Wardens think. Wardens, hands up." Erimond lifted one of his hands into the air. In horror, I watched as all of the Wardens followed suit as if no more than slaves to Erimond's will. "Hands down." Again, the Wardens followed suit, no more than puppets.

"Corypheus has taken their minds!" Stroud raged.

"They did this to themselves," Erimond sneered, "You see, the Calling had the Wardens terrified. They looked everywherefor help."

"Even Tevinter," Stroud concluded.

"Yes. And since it was my Master who put the Calling into their little heads, we in the Venatori were prepared. I went to Clarel full of sympathy, and together, we came up with a plan… Raise a demon army, march into the Deep Roads, and kill the Old Gods before they wake."

"Ah. I was wondering when the demon army would show up," I bit.

"You...knew about it, did you? Well, then, here you are." It did not seem to me that he expected us to know this much of their plans. "Sadly for the Wardens, the binding ritual I taught their mages has a side effect. They're now my Master's slaves. This was a test. Once the rest of the Wardens complete the ritual, the army will conquer Thedas."

As with all of our enemies, this Erimond seemed more than willing to speak. To buy time? Believing he had us trapped and would defeat us? Hubris does seem to be their fatal flaw. At the risk of falling for something unseen, I continued to question him. "Why would the Wardens try to kill the Old Gods?"

"A Blight happens when darkspawn find an Old God and corrupt it into an Archdemon. If someone fought through the Deep Roads and killed the Old Gods before they could be corrupted...poof! No more Blights. Ever. The Wardens sacrifice their lives and save the world," Erimond explained.

"That's madness," I stated, "For all we know, killing the Old Gods could make things even worse!"

"Well, then, it's a good thing I'm taking this demon army off their hands," Erimond sneered, "Although, I fear history will remember the Wardens not as heroes now."

"Why would Clarel risk this?" I demanded.

"Demons need no food, no rest, no healing. Once bound, they will never retreat, never question orders," Erimond looked pointedly at the body of the Warden who had protested the ritual. "They are the perfect army to fight through the Deep Roads." Erimond flashed a serpentine grin. "Or across Orlais, now that they are bound to my Master."

"So Corypheus influenced the Wardens and made them do this ritual?" I probed, his last statement implying more than he had spoken.

Erimond laughed. "'Made them'? No. Everything you see here? The blood sacrifices to bind the demons? The Wardens did it of their own free will. Fear is a very good motivator, and they were very afraid."

Blackwall had been clearly agitated through this whole exchange - understandably so - but he'd had enough as he protested Erimond. "That's a lie! The Grey Wardens are heroes! They would never do this willingly!"

Erimond's sneering smile only grew. "The Grey Wardens care about nothing save stopping Blights. They will do anythingto accomplish that. You should have seen Clarel agonize over the decision. Burdens of command, I suppose."

"Do you really want to see the world fall to the Blight? What do you get out of this?" I demanded.

"The Elder One commands the Blight. He is not commanded by it, like the mindless darkspawn. The Blight is not unstoppable or uncontrollable. It is simply a tool."

"Somebody's certainly a tool," Varric mumbled under his breath, to Hawke's chuckle.

"As for me: while the Elder One rules from the Golden City, we, the Venatori, will be his god-kings here in the world."

It was clear Erimond had shared all he was willing to as he began surveying his situation. In an effort to confuse him, I addressed him one last time: "You think you can stand against me with just demons and a Fade rift? Did Corypheus not mention what I did to the Breach?"

His smile widened. "He did. He also noted what he did to you at Haven." Lifting his hand, the same magic that Corypheus had used upon me began to glow upon his hand. "The Elder One showed me how to deal with you, in the event you were foolish enough to interfere again. That mark you bear? The Anchor that lets you pass safely through the Veil?" I felt that evil magic claw at the Anchor, trying to render the same pain Corypheus had upon me. Expecting that pain once more, even feeling it for a time, ashamedly I sank to my knees. Yet, there was something different this time. The pain was less, the Anchor—my mana entwined—fought back. Soon the pain subsided entirely. "You stole that from my Master. He's been forced to seek other ways to access the Fade." The Anchor fully under my command, I reached out for the Fade rift above our heads, latching on to it as I've done hundreds of times. "When I bring him your head, his gratitude will be—"

The rift exploded, throwing Erimond back. We made to charge him, but the demons and bound Wardens stood in our way. As Erimond slowly rose, surprise coloring his face, he commanded they fight before slipping away. The fight was short, the Wardens as mindless as the demons. Once we had seen to the dead, we spoke as to our next move.

"Blood magic," Hawke spit. "It's always blood magic."

"Through this ritual, the mages are slaves to Corypheus," Stroud stated.

"What about the Warden warriors? Rogues?" Hawke questioned. "Surely they cannot be enslaved by the same means?" The rest of us were silent, the answer obvious. Hawke's eyes grew cold. "Of course. Sacrificed in the ritual. What a waste."

My own irritation growing, I couldn't help but share her anger. "Sacrifices, demon summoning...Who looks at this and thinks it's a good idea?"

Hawke's fierce eyes met mine. "The fearful and foolish."

"The Wardens were wrong, Hawke, but they had their reasons," Stroud stated in a pathetic attempt to defend his comrades.

Hawke rounded on him. "All blood mages do. Everyone has a story they tell themselves to justify bad decisions...and it never matters. In the end, you are always alone with your actions." Turning back to me, her face grim. "I know where the Wardens are, Inquisitor. Another...contact of mine trailed the Wardens. They've been coming to the ritual tower in small groups as to avoid bringing attention upon themselves. My contact believed they were first holed up at the abandoned keep not far from here—Griffon Wing—but it houses Venatori. They are led by a Macrinus. I told my contact not to engage with the Venatori or the Wardens, simply to gather as much information as possible for us and to send on to your Spymaster whatever they deemed necessary. The Wardens are building their demon army within the walls of the abandoned Adamant Fortress."

"Adamant?" Stroud questioned. "Of course. What better place? The rumors of the fortress lend credence to it being a prime setting for summoning demons."

"We must stop this madness," I stated.

"From what my contact has told me," Hawke's voice was as grim as her face, "You'll need an army to do it."

Flashing a smirk. "Good thing I have one back home."

"My contact wishes to meet with Stroud and I, but once that is finished, we will meet you back at Skyhold."

"Very good," I nodded. "Before we head home, I think I'd like to take a look at this Griffon Wing Keep. Sounds like it's in dire need of a new owner."

Below was an account of their subsequent infiltration and capturing of the keep. I had already signed off on Rylen being established as the commanding officer of the keep, though I had not known the circumstances leading up to the keep's acquisition. Now, I understood why the Inquisitor wanted Rylen; as my second-in-command, he had the most authority and knowledge in setting Griffon Wing up as a base of operations to prepare for our assault upon Adamant.
I swallowed thickly. War. I knew it was coming, knew it would be the inevitable end when our enemy first revealed himself, but to know that what had been a distant thought was now a near reality. I knew how to prepare the soldiers to fight, knew how to make groups work as one, but did I know how to lead an army? To lead them to what would certainly be some of their deaths?
Dread pooled in my stomach. The screams of my brothers and sisters rang in my ears as they died around me in the tower, demons cutting through them as if they were no more than farmers armed with makeshift weapons. The screams of the people of Kirkwall as abominations tore through them leaving a river of blood in the streets clawed at my chest.
This would be no war against only flesh and blood, but Fade and shadow. Demons. Blood magic. The soldiers were not templars, this was not what I had called them to do. They would not have lyrium in their veins bolstering their valor, giving them an edge against the corrupted creatures of the Fade.
I and greater templars had frozen in the face of demons. How could I ask mere men to face the creatures with no more than steel and conviction? How could I lead them with no more than steel and conviction? Would I not freeze in the face of the demons? Had I not done so already?
When the Breach had burst into existence, it had been a reaction—without thought or choice. It was fight or die with no time to process what was happening. Lyrium had still been clinging to my innermost being, the last dregs giving me the strength I needed, but now? The knowledge of impending war would fester in all our minds. Some would itch for its coming, others...others would cave to fear. It would be my duty to stir in them the courage, the will, the determination to fight. To know they could die and march confidently anyway. Yes, the Inquisitor would inspire them, but I had to lead them. To prepare them. To rally them. To keep them strong.
I felt my hands and legs shaking. Sweat rolling down my back. The old fear whispering along my mind. We both know you're in no position to do any of those things, sweet templar. We both know how you could be. I swallowed again, my mouth and throat parched. Lyrium. With lyrium I could lead them. With lyrium I could defend them. With lyrium I could give them the strength. With lyrium I could face our enemy unafraid. All you have to do, sweet templar, is drink.

"Commander?" Leliana's voice questioned.

I met her gaze. "The situation is indeed dire."

Her blue eyes searched my face and I prayed to Andraste there was no evidence of my struggle. "There's more." She unrolled a piece of parchment. "Before the Inquisitor departed the desert, some of our men had found remnants of Red Templar activity within abandoned mines. From what could be found, it seems they had plans to mine red lyrium there, but when word came of the Inquisition heading for the Approach, the operation was abandoned. What was within the mines, however...red lyrium is not mined through any conventional means."

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"There were...strange tools from my scouts descriptions and the Inquisitor's own description. Possibly Tevinter in origin. There were bodies and evidence of slave trading. Abandoned wagons meant for transporting slaves."

"But no conclusive evidence as to how they are all linked together?"

She shook her head. "However, I received a coded message from our party in Emprise du Lion. They found the Red Templars and are currently observing their activities."

"Thank the Maker," I breathed a sigh of relief, "Some good news. How long before you expect a more detailed report?"

"At least a week," she murmured. "I want as full a scale of what is happening there as possible."

"As do I," I agreed.

"One last thing," Leliana removed a small square of parchment from within her sleeve. "Hawke's other contact." I watched as her lips twitched, threatening a smile as she unfolded the square into a full sheet of parchment. "It seems they've been quite busy in the shadows collecting information not only in the Approach, but many other places of importance. I've much to do, but I may be in need of your aid. Can I count on you both to assist me when needed?"

"Of course, Leliana," Josephine nodded. "Whatever you need."

I gave a nod. "Of course."

"Good," she gave a slight bow. "With that, I believe we've discussed all that is pressing at the moment." Her blue eyes flicked to me. "I'm sure the Commander is eager to return to his office and the letter awaiting him there."

Letter? Confused for a moment before her lips twisted into a smirk, I fought down a blush as my heart skipped a beat. Meira. "Um...right." My ears burned as Josephine and Leliana shared a laugh as I exited the room. My feet could not carry me fast enough to my office where to my disbelief a letter sat upon my desk. Not wanting to be disturbed, I made sure to lock the doors to my office before sinking into my chair and hurriedly opening the letter.

My love,

Forgive me for not having written in far too long. Solas and I have been on the road, unable to deliver letters to any Inquisition camp along the way as our route took us through unoccupied desert. Know that you have been on my mind every waking moment and I have missed your writing. I hope this letter finds you well.

Our travels were somewhat treacherous given the creatures that call the desert home, along with the searing heat of the day and unforgiving cold of the night. I thank the Maker Ghilani is with me as without her warmth at night, I fear I would not have made it. The poor girl is suffering in the heat though, I pray the coolness of the oasis brings her some relief.

The oasis is beyond description, Cullen, so I drew it for you. I have never stood within anything more beautiful and haunting. The azure of the water, the natural rock formations, the plants growing only where the water slakes the thirst of the sand. There are creatures here too, but the oasis seems to attract only the docile; the predators remain on the outer rings. Venatori were here, but between Solas and I and your soldiers, they were quickly dispensed. They were never able to gain entry to the temple and for that I am thankful.
As I finally lay my eyes upon what has been haunting my dreams...I cannot dispel the dread within my heart. Something is within, my love, something that calls to me—demands. The door emanates malice, betrayal, rage and sorrow. We camp before it, Solas wanting me to build up strength before entering. He leaves me tomorrow, in need of solitude after the death of a dear friend. He will return, but when he did not say. I am to enter the temple in his absence, him having passed on all the knowledge he can and feeling that I am as prepared as I will ever be.
As I write you this letter, I stare at the door and feel...frozen. Afraid. And I am ashamed of it, my love. I know I must enter, know I need to, but...I cannot bring myself to take the first step. What if...what if I do not leave the same female I was when I entered? What if...what if the something within is more terrible than I could have imagined? Am I doing the right thing? Or should I leave well enough alone and return to Skyhold...to you?

I would turn Mouse to Skyhold this moment if not for the whisper in my heart. That whisper a gentle voice calling me to not be afraid and to face what lies within. A whisper I cannot ignore.

How I long for you, my lion. To hear your voice. Feel your arms around me. To kiss you. I long for you so much that it aches. And it is that longing that spurs me to face this thing. To set aside my selfish desires and face what I know I must. Whatever lies within is something the Maker has set before me, of that I am more certain than ever as I hear the whispers of what lies within in reality and not the Fade.
Forgive me, my love, that I cannot return to you before I see this through. Forgive me also as this is the last letter I will write for some time. Solas demanded no distractions upon his departure and I fear he is correct. The more I write to you, the more I dream of you, the fiercer this temptation to run grows. Pray for me, Cullen, that I may face this and defeat it. For only then, can I be held by you unashamed.

All my love,

Talitha

Agony tore through me at her words. Did I not feel the same about my own trial? About lyrium? I knew deep down that I needed to resume taking it, but I was afraid. Afraid of what I would become if I did. Ashamed of my weakness, ashamed of my failure if I took it again.
But was I not being selfish? I had decided to stop taking lyrium to gain control, to gain freedom. But in that choice, I was failing as a leader. Freezing in the face of demons, losing sense of reality, putting myself before my men. What kind of leader was I? Unable to sleep, eat or fulfill my duties to my full abilities while I battled my insatiable thirst for lyrium.
I had already made mistakes. Haven not the least of them. I was missing things, forgetting things, overlooking things because part of my mind was always on my want for lyrium. Divided, clouded, unfocused. Constantly stuck in the past as memories and nightmares became clearer and clearer, quickly closing the distance within my mind. Soon, I would not be able to separate the now from the past.
And what then? Madness? Had I not sworn myself to the Inquisition? Just as I had to the Order? Total devotion. Not to the agenda of the Chantry, but to the Inquisition. To the intention of setting things right. To protecting the innocent. To leading those of the Inquisition. I feared taking lyrium would make me slave to the Inquisition, just as it had the Chantry, but...would it not be a kinder master? A master I would choose with full knowledge of what and who I was serving?
Meira was choosing to face what she must, feeling I was a temptation calling her from her duty...her purpose. Had I not been doing the same? Forgoing lyrium because I wanted her. I wanted. Just as I had wanted in the tower. My wanting had led to so much of what happened.
What was my wanting doing here? Would it lead to more death? To more defeat? To more destruction? What a fool I had been. Thinking I could have it all. To have what I most wanted and serve the Inquisition. Letting out a bitter laugh, I knew the truth of the matter: I could not have both. One or the other. What I wanted or what I had sworn myself to; it was the Order all over again. Yes, I had chosen the Inquisition. I had sworn myself to the cause—sworn. Would I give less to this than I did the Chantry? A cause I wholeheartedly believed in?
Had I not also wholeheartedly believed in the Chantry? And then...Meira. Same as the Inquisition. I had sworn and then...there she had stood in the Chantry. Her brand blazing angry red just as it had the day I'd seared it upon her forehead. In that moment, my resolve had shattered. My focus had waned. Just as it had at Kinloch.
She had reached through everything I thought I knew and tore it down with but a breath. I thought I knew I wanted the Inquisition to succeed above all else, just as I thought I knew mages were what the Chantry claimed them to be—not as harshly, perhaps, but enough to don the armor. Then she'd awoken, my love—my want—for her burning into an inferno, engulfing everything in moments.
If I turned to lyrium now...I would hurt her. Just as I had then. Just as I had so many. Lyrium had chained me to the Chantry, blinded me to what was going on around me, keeping me submissive until it was too late. Would it not do the same now? Chaining me to the Inquisition, barring me from her because my first devotion would be to it?
Her skeletal body flashed in my mind, her eyes full of despair. Then her upon the battlements, beautiful and riddled with sorrow as tears slipped from her eyes. I had caused her to suffer as I focused upon the Inquisition, just as I had when I'd focused upon the Order. Lyrium would allow for no distractions...not even her. But could I go on without it? Could I justify choosing my love for Meira over the lives of those in the Inquisition? Could I give Meira up for the sake of the Inquisition?
Looking at the drawings she had sent me, one of herself included, I knew my answer. I ached for her; every fiber of my being longing to feel her in my arms, press my lips to hers, smell her heady scent, have her as my own.
No. I couldn't give her up. To do so...I couldn't bear the thought. What a betrayal to her? To the others? No, I couldn't go back. I couldn't be that man again.
Perhaps it was better if I stepped down? Then I could forego lyrium, be with Meira and not be at risk of putting the soldiers under my command in danger. Resolving to do just that, I would wait for the Inquisitor to return. I would speak with Cassandra, tell her the truth of what withdrawal was doing to me and demand that she find a replacement. Pushing myself out of my chair and pushing away the thought that I was taking the coward's way out as I had so many times, I yanked open my office door and headed for the training dummies.

...

"Wilhelm, stop!" I ordered as I restrained the younger man.

"I need it! Please, for the Maker's sake! I need it!" He was straining against my hold, trying to get at Bethany. "Healer, please. Please."

"You see?" Bethany murmured. "He doesn't even know who I am."

I watched as Wilhelm's head whipped from side to side. "They're coming! They're coming!" I could feel him trembling. "They'll get me! They'll find me!"

"Wilhelm!" I barked.

"It wasn't my fault! It wasn't!" He was sobbing again. Buckling to the floor, he cradled his head in his hands and wailed in agony. "My skull! It's coming apart—the blood mages, they're killing me!"

Something tore at my chest as I watched him. Is this what awaits me? Wilhelm vomited upon the floor before falling over unconscious. Picking him up, I eased him onto the bed. Bethany swiftly came to my side and began administering the various poultices and elixirs.
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I perched upon the nearby stool to watch her work. The light of the torches in the room casting her in a warm glow contrasted with the shadow of night upon Wilhelm's face. Bethany's full lips were pursed and I could tell she had things to say. She'd come to check on Wilhelm before turning in for the night, the evening his usual time for a final administration of medicines in an effort to make the nights easier, to find him raving in his room.
He'd torn it apart, most of the furniture destroyed as he'd frantically searched for lyrium. Upon Bethany's entry, he'd attempted to attack her, sure that she had lyrium on her person. Subduing him before he could do any damage, Bethany had sent for me. He'd awoken only to resume his maddened state. It was clear he was not in his right mind, he did not recognize Bethany, his surroundings or when it was in time. He was stuck in some hallucination of the past and I could not fight the feeling that I could share the same fate.

Bethany's lips tightening even further, I allowed her the chance to speak her mind. "What is it, Bethany?"

Her brown eyes found mine. "I'm not sure how much more of this he can take, Cullen. At this rate...he'll either stay in this maddened state, harm himself or...die." She glanced over her shoulder. "He hasn't eaten or drank anything in days. Each time it took him longer and longer to recognize who I was. He's been talking to himself, pacing the room, afraid of something." I kept my eyes on the younger man. "Cullen, he isn't you."

Clenching my jaw, I looked to her. "What are you saying, Bethany?"

"I'm saying he needs lyrium, Cullen. He can't live like this."

I stared into her eyes. "If he resumes taking lyrium...it'll be worse."

She straightened, placing her hands on her hips. She looked so like Marian for a moment that I was back at the Gallows courtyard, Marian before me. The roars of abominations sounded in my ears and I had to close my eyes. Opening them, I was back in the room with Bethany and Wilhelm. Would it be worse? Do I even really know anymore? Bethany's gaze traveled over me, a dark brow quirking in disbelief. "How do you know?"

Unable to say with any certainty, I looked away, letting out a breath. "Honestly? I don't. Maybe...maybe it is better to take it."

"I wasn't saying that you should take it, Cullen," she clarified and I looked back at her, "I mean he may have no other choice. Perhaps there are those who can't give it up? Who shouldn't?"

My eyes found Wilhelm. He was gaunt, sallow and drenched in sweat. Is this really better? I recalled Ella's fear and Wilhelm's subsequent shame after what had happened. His addiction had grown beyond standard lyrium use. If he started using it again...what would it grow into? What would he become? What if taking it again killed him faster? "His addiction was beyond his ability to control it. He was taking more—needing more—than he should have. Eventually, it would have killed him or driven him mad. Breaking the addiction...does that not at least give him a chance at freedom? If he goes back...he'll die."

"But how do you know?" Bethany demanded.

Tearing a hand through my hair as I stood, I growled. "I don't! Is that what you want to hear?" I spread my hands out. "I don't know! I have no idea what this will do to him! I have no idea what the end of this looks like! Maybe it'll kill him! Maybe it'll drive him mad!" I wanted to hit something. "Maker! All I know is if this doesn't work then there is no hope! There is no escape."

I felt Bethany's hand on my shoulder and I tensed. "Cullen..."

"What do you want me to say, Bethany? Give it to him?" I jerked out of her gentle grasp before turning to her. "If it were me...what would you do?"

Her brown eyes searched my face. "What is this really about?"

I scoffed. "You know I'm no longer taking it." I thrust a hand at Wilhelm. "If it were me, what would you do?"

She was silent for a long moment. "I would not give it to you."

My brows rose in surprise. "Why not? You're eager enough to give it to him."

She crossed her arms over her chest, worrying on her lip. "Perhaps because I care less for him than I do for you," she whispered. She closed her eyes tightly. "Maker forgive me, but it's easy not to fight for a near stranger. But you? If it were you and I knew...I would do everything I could to help you fight," her eyes met mine, a fierceness in them, "but I would not give you lyrium no matter what."

"And why is that?"

"Because...I've seen the difference in you," she murmured.

"'Difference'?"

"You're...free," a pink tinge rose in her cheeks. "Sure you're still grumpy and unreasonable and unsociable," her lips threatened a smile, "but you live. In Kirkwall you simply went through the motions, following orders, seeing to your duties, keeping yourself closed off to everything and everyone. I never saw you happy. Never saw anything or anyone in you but the Knight-Captain. A mindless, soulless tool of the Chantry.
"Yes, you protected us, but...you were still no more than Meredith's righthand man. A mouthpiece and a fist. Then...the Chantry exploded and you stood between my sister and Meredith. For the first time I got a glimpse of the man beneath the templar armor. You were changed and that change festered. Something had broken and there was no fixing it. It's why I followed you to the Inquisition, it was the first choice I felt you had made and you had done so because you saw the truth of the world.
"The Chantry was wrong. The Circle was wrong. The Order was wrong. You were wrong. And you wanted to right it all. Bit by bit your armor fell away and I saw Cullen. A man who no longer knew who he was, but was desperate to find himself—to build himself into someone worth knowing. Someone worthy of forgiving. All your anger, prejudice, and fear slowly fell away but shame took their place. But from that shame, I've seen a humility in you I never did before.
"Lyrium does not breed humility. It breeds pride and zealotry. There is not a templar I have met that does not see themselves as above-above everyone and everything because of what the Chantry teaches you and because lyrium seems to will in you a power so addictive you become this."
She gestured to Wilhelm. "But seeing Wilhelm go through this...that power comes with a price. It buries everything and feeds that fearlessness to the point of a different sort of madness. Take it away? You become mortal men incapable of coping with all you were forced to face and do with the Blade of Mercy on your chests." Her dark eyes pierced through me. "What choice do you have but to break?" I felt the pang of tears in my eyes and I turned from her. Her gentle hand came to rest on my arm. "It is only by the Maker's will that you haven't, Cullen."

"How can you be certain that I haven't?" I murmured.

"I know that you stand here still fighting," she urged.

"And do you know how many times I've nearly given in?" I growled. "That perhaps I know I must start taking it again in order to properly lead my men?"

"But you haven't and you still lead."

I let out a bitter laugh. "For now."

"Please don't lose hope, Cullen."

I looked once more to Wilhelm. "What if he dies, Bethany? What right have I to ask that of him?"

"He chose, Cullen," she reminded, "And I will do all I can to help him keep fighting." I gave a nod. "But perhaps it would help if you spoke with him? Candidly?"

I swallowed thickly. "It would only be fair."

"When next he is lucid, I will see if he is up for it," she stated.

"Goodnight, Bethany," I offered as I left the room.

In a haze as I made my way back to my office, once the door was closed behind me, I fell to my knees and wept.

…

Despite everything, sleep found me late in the night. There would be no respite in it, no rest as the howls of abominations echoed in my mind. Tonight it was Kinloch Hold. When everything began.

All was quiet in the tower, I standing guard in the hall, nervously and anxiously waiting for Meira to pass by. I'd wanted to speak with her, a brave part of me wanting to tell her the truth of how I felt, the rest of me too afraid to do so.
Uldred and the others had returned from Ostagar, the news of what had occurred quickly spreading through the tower: King Cailan had fallen, a darkspawn horde would soon spread across Southern Fereldan. Uldred had called for a meeting with the other Senior Enchanters and Irving, calling for the tower to back Loghain's claim to the throne. I could hear them arguing on the other side of the door, I and a few others standing guard outside of it, but my mind was elsewhere. The mages argued often, always civil if heated.
I felt something shift in the argument though, my training instincts alerting me. The arguing turned to shouts of protest and screams. Screams of terror echoed around the tower, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I felt the Veil thin. Something was happening.
The door where the mages were meeting burst open, the templar to my left cut down before he could even draw his sword. The thing swung at me, but I jumped away just in time, unsheathing my sword as I beheld what attacked us. A demon. Before me stood an actual demon.
I had read about them, listened to lectures on how to deal with one, even listened in on the mages' lectures about the twisted spirits of the Fade, but never had I laid eyes upon one. A Shade, disfigured flesh, glowing eyes and giant claws as it glided upon the ground. Though I could not see its mouth, I heard the wet, heaving breaths it was taking.
Fear sprung for but a moment before the lyrium in my blood called me to bravery beyond my own strength. Staring the creature down, I shouted for the others before attacking. Yet before my blade could land, I was blasted back by magic. Groaning as I pushed myself up, through blurry eyes I saw Uldred and the other blood mages magically dragging the others out of the room. Metal upon stone sounded behind me and I turned. A few more templars were coming, Greagoir nowhere to be found.

"Get up, Rutherford!" Wilhelm shouted. "The tower is in chaos!"

Rising the rest of the way, magic burst from the room to hit one of the blood mages. Wynne charged out, her face more vicious than I had ever seen it. Normally a docile and kind-natured woman, the Wynne before me was rage and vengeance.

"I will not let you do this, Uldred!"

"Try and stop me. This has long been at work in the shadows. This was the last straw. A chance at freedom had laid before us, but you…you had to sway them all, didn't you?" In a flash, Uldred had appeared before Wynne. Before she could react, he thrust a hand into her chest. Blood poured from Wynne's chest as Uldred leaned close.
"You've no idea how long I've wanted to do that. Rest easy knowing your blood will be used to summon a powerful ally. I will raze this tower to the ground, every templar and unwilling mage will either die or bow before me." Shouting, I and the others charged Uldred and his acolytes. A few were cut down, but more of us fell. Uldred laughed before calling upon the blood spilt on the floor. The Veil split before us, the tendrils of blood magic ripping it open as a pride demon clawed its way out.
"Tremble before me, templars, your Maker has forsaken you." Turning to the demon, he smiled at it. "Serve me. Obey me. And you will be rewarded."

The demon studied Uldred for a moment before letting out a guttural laugh. "Foolish mortal. You think yourself of more importance than you are. A perfect vessel you will make for me."

"What?" Uldred faltered for a moment. "No! You will obey me."

"I obey no one. Least of all a pathetic human such as you." Everyone froze as we watched Uldred be possessed by the demon he so foolishly summoned.

His acolytes unsure what to do, I saw our chance. "Templars! Now!"

"Mages! We've still got the advantage," one of the blood mages shouted. "Let us show these templars why they should fear us."

Mage after mage opened their veins and summoned blood magic. As we were about to clash, Wynne moved upon the ground. Her arms shaking violently, blood seeping from her chest and covering her hands, she rose slightly. Her eyes met mine. "Retreat. This is a fight you cannot win."

At those words, magic flowed from her hands. The ground beneath us began to shake before the floor gave way. Instead of falling, our descent was controlled. We landed on the lower floor, the stones rising back up to the ceiling to block off the blood mages from attacking us.

Racing to Wynne, I checked her over to find that her wounds were not fatal despite how it had appeared. "Wynne? Are you alright?"

As she sat up, she pat my gauntlet. "Fine, dear boy. It seems Uldred wanted to draw out my death. I was able to heal myself while he and the others were distracted. I could use a healing potion, but I will be alright. We must find others, any who are innocent of this."

I'd given a nod, before I'd passed orders to the other templars. Soon, we'd been fighting our way through the tower. Demons, abominations, blood mages had been at every step. Mage had fought mage, many who had been friends—even lovers. Senior templars had rallied those of us new to the Order, but it'd been easy to tell this would be a losing battle. The traitorous mages had outnumbered us, too many templars had been sent away to find Jowan.
We'd gathered everyone we could, finding Meira and Solana, but soon we'd cornered by abominations. Mage and templar had fought together, successful in cutting them down. Then we'd split up, Wynne tasked with taking the children to safety, I'd been determined to find anyone who remained. No one had known where Greagoir or some of the others were, but there'd been no time to look for them.
Then everything had gone to the Void. I tried to wake myself, but to no avail. One by one I watched as my friends were tortured. Some killed others turned to abominations while I remained trapped within a cage, a delight to the deranged mages as they lapped up my fear and despair. Soon enough, they grew bored and Reyna frustrated with my resistance to her temptation.
I felt it then, the torture. They would come in groups, taking turns to try and break me. Each attempt brought a new horror. I watched as my family died, driven mad by the blood magic as they killed each other. I watched my sisters suffer before being slaughtered in front of me. I watched as my mother and father were torn apart by demons. Bran the slave of Reyna because I refused. I watched myself become a mindless corpse, a savage killer, an abomination.
When the mental torture was unsuccessful, they turned to physical torture. Stripped of my armor, naked and terrified, they set their blades to my flesh, using my blood to call forth lesser demons and more mental torture. Through it all, as I was broken piece by piece, the only thing that remained was the Chant. I clung to it—to my Maker. When everything else in my mind was stained with blood and fear, the Chant sung true.
Denied lyrium, food or water, my body began to come apart at the seams. I could feel my grip on reality fraying, soon I would remember nothing of who I was save the torture that seemed to be both my past and future—a never ending loop. Then Reyna tried one more time to tempt me into servitude. Seeing Meira before me—even if she weren't real—called me back to reality.
I remembered who I was, where I was, and why I had to keep fighting. I had become disillusioned with the mages, magic and even Meira herself, but in seeing her afraid as the demon's claws dug into her throat, the old want to protect and serve called to me. Though my love for her had been so tainted and twisted, that ray of hope became my lifeline.
I had to fight, had to serve and I thrust my sword into Meira in order to slay the demon. As blade pierced flesh, black blood dripping down the metal, the seams of my near broken mind knit back together. Not strong, but more whole than they had been, but soaked in fear, distrust and rage. As I looked upon the bodies of my friends, that rage only grew. Mages had done this. Magic had done this. The Order had been right. Mages needed to be locked up—caged as I had been. All of them.
Kinloch faded away to darkness. Screams sounded in my ears—the screams of the innocent as templars cut down mage after mage in the halls of the Gallows for the crime of one mage. I wanted to yell for them to stop, to put myself between them and the mages, but I was stuck. I fought against what held me, but to no avail.
Oh sweet templar, so much pain. So much shame. So much regret. How sweet it tastes!
 The metallic and salt stench of blood filled my nostrils, so overwhelmingly strong I thought I would puke. I kept fighting against whatever was holding me, but began to sink below it and soon I realized…I was drowning in blood.
I jerked awake, shaking violently and drenched in sweat. No, not sweat…blood. I held my hands before me and indeed they were dripping with blood. I forced my eyes closed, shaking my head.
It's not real. It's not real. Your name is Cullen Rutherford. You are the Commander of the Inquisition's Forces. You escaped Kinloch Hold. You left Kirkwall. You are no longer a templar. You and Meira found each other once more and are in love. She is safe. You are safe.
Daring to open my eyes, I found the blood remained. Panic gripping my heart, I tore free of my sheets before throwing myself into the icy water of the nearby tub. Grabbing the scrub brush, I rubbed it into my skin. I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed until my skin was raw. Blood—real blood—broke through in places I'd scrubbed raw enough to damage my skin. Dropping the scrub brush, my hands shaking, my breathing ragged, I sat in the icy water until dawn began to break in the sky.

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