Leliana was crying for help when she awoke.
She looked around the room, taking several deep breaths. She held her blanket closer to her and shivered in the dark. She looked at the door although no one was coming in. Did no one hear her?
She leaned back against the pillows, telling herself everything was all right and that it was only a nightmare.
But what a horrible nightmare that was.
She had been standing on top of something. It must have been a mountain — there she was, at the peak, looking at the blue cloudless sky when she heard a noise; a terrible, ungodly noise. And then something else happened.
The storm arrived. Loud, cold, and it devoured the blue skies, leaving nothing but the darkness. The horrible noise rose along thunderclaps that broke through the clouds, and Leliana found herself on her knees, crying, calling for help, drenched in the rain.
And then she was falling, falling deep in the darkness, and the pit was never-ending, the pitch-black clawing at her on all sides and she fell forever, screaming at nothing.
Until she opened her eyes.
Leliana stared up at the ceiling, still clutching the covers. She was still shaking. She must get her mind off of this. There was no use going back to sleep, for it has already left her.
Pulling on a robe, Leliana quietly swept from her room and walked down the corridors, making her way towards the door headed for the gardens. She sat on the bench located between lively green bushes and waited for the sun to rise. It was still a deep blue up ahead but slivers of sunlight softly filtered through the trees, faint but reassuring.
The morning was cold. Leliana sat there studying the plants with her arms wrapped around herself. Birds were singing overhead and she took comfort in it. Despite the distractions however, she could not help but recall the dream. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
That dream, that nightmare, must mean something. Only she did not know what.
Is something going to happen? Was Lothering in danger? Will a battle take place in Ferelden and burn everything to the ground? She dreaded the thought.
Leliana got up to her feet, about to retire in her room when something caught her eye.
There was something red within the dead rose bush the other Chantry sisters had been complaining about the other day. Soon as she stepped closer, Leliana realized that it was a rose — newly grown, but already lush against the dead leaves. Leliana touched it with the tip of her finger expecting it would prick her, but it did not. The petals were soft and the paleness of her skin contrasted with its beautiful scarlet color.
Leliana shook her head, a faint smile forming on her lips. This bush was dead. Most of the leaves have fallen off and the branches were gnarled and twisted, and it was an awful thing to look at. There were talks of removing this bush. And yet . . .
The rose was as miraculous as it was beautiful. It was as if hope was trying to push away the darkness.
Leliana then realized that maybe, just maybe, her dream was not meant to terrify her at all. It was meant to provide her with something else, something she can draw upon.
It was meant to give her hope. She looked up at the sky where the rays of the sun were starting to shine down on Lothering.
She beamed and quietly prayed, thanking the Maker.
Finally, she has now found her purpose.