She tumbled and grasped at the wisps of light around her. She tried to cling to someone, to anything, to stop the infinite falling. Ash tried screaming, but nothing came out. Even the tears that threatened to fall refused to escape. She slammed on the hard ground below, quickly getting to her feet despite wobbly legs. Around her, blood pooled, not her blood though. The big tear in the sky taunted her, while thousands of bodies fell in front of her. Slashed, ripped, chilled, aflame. She alone was untouched. As she tried to reach out to those around her, she felt paralyzed.

Part of her, in fact, most of her knew this was the Beyond - the Fade. She normally enjoyed time spent here. It was effortless for her and certainly an escape. Or, it used to be. She'd even learned to manipulate not just her own world, but the dreams of others. Even though losing control like this happened to her more often these days than she'd like to admit, she could usually regain authority over her world. Though even as she tried to will herself away from this place, her feet remained planted.

For a few minutes, she remained willful. She could shape it. She could. Though this fear, this sadness, and this anger was boiling inside her. It was too distracting. The bodies just kept falling. It wasn't just the demons. It was templars. It was soldiers. They were whispering things. Horrible things in her ear, yet she couldn't do anything. She couldn't move.

She forced herself to wake. Sweat pooled at her brow. Nothing around her was familiar. Wooden and simple, nearly empty - some sort of cabin. She sat up quickly, remembering everything all too quickly.

Another elf walked in, disheveled brown hair pushed behind her ears, stumbling as she saw the mage. "Oh! I didn't know you were awake, I swear!" she said, voice trembling.

Ash felt immediately unsettled, stomach turning at the other elf's immediate discomfort. "Please, don't worry about it. I only—" Ash began.

The elf fell to the ground, arms outstretched. She looked up at Ash, seemingly with fear and regret. "I beg you forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant. You are back in Haven, my Lady. They say you saved us. The Breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand. It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days."

Ash grew more uncomfortable. A humble servant? Ash stood from the bed. She felt a little sore and distanced herself from the pain in both her body and thoughts. She wished to escape into the Beyond, but it seemed that was becoming a place to fear, as well. Ash's movement from her bed seemed to frighten the girl away further, but the mage reached out a hand.

"Please, take it," she said. "I apologize for anything I have done to make you uncomfortable. It seems I have found myself surrounded by shemlens for the time being, yet again. I hope we may remain at least comfortable in one another's company." Reluctantly, the elf took her hand. Ash grasped it tightly, lifting her up from the ground. Ash continued, slowly letting go of the other elf's hand. "So a trial happens now, I suppose."

"I don't know anything about that," she replied, backing away now. "I'm certain Lady Cassandra would want to know you've wakened. "At once!" she said."

Ash frowned. "Where is she?"

"In the Chantry, with the Lord Chancellor. "At once," she said." The other elf was fiddling with her fingers. Ash gingerly placed her hand atop hers. The other elf flinched slightly. As she relaxed, a slight smile pressed against the corners of her lips.

Mutually, they squeezed their hands together, interlocking fingers. "What is your name? My gut tells me these people will not be letting me escape today," she said.

The elf seemed surprised at the question, even with their shared touch. "Vessa, my Lady"

"And you may call me Ash," bowing her head slightly, bowing her head slightly, "I assure you, 'lady' is wholly unnecessary. However, I will let you go now. Dareth shiral." Ash separated their hands slowly.

"Yes, thank you, my Lady," Vessa said, stumbling quickly out of the room.

Ash frowned again. Her arms pressed tightly against her sides, fingernails digging into her palms. As she tried to gather her thoughts, though, all she could remember was the blood and the death and the fighting. All things she had seen before, but they seemed to trigger memories she'd wished to forget. Memories Keeper Deshanna told her they would always be a part of her. Ash refused to believe her, but they came flashing back. Too stubborn. Deshanna always said I am too stubborn. Sometimes in small moments and sometimes in impossible, suffocating waves her life was laid before her. At the Gallows, in Kirkwall, when she was finally able to get away from them, from her imprisonment, it was too late. Everything they'd done to her, to everyone around her, and the terrible violence in the city itself threw her in an eternal loop. Losing herself again and again.

She shook it off and tried to remember how far she'd come. She could escape from here, too. She glanced down at the glowing mark on her hand. She could feel the magic bursting through it and, thus, within her. It all worked with such synergy. She knew she should probably be afraid of it, but most of her wanted to know...everything about it. Her curiosity outweighed her fear (and perhaps her common sense) most of the time.

Clenching her fists tighter still, Ash threw open the door of the cabin. She almost stood in awe, then nearly shuddered in discomfort. People, and nearly all shemlens for that matter, all lined up, like they were waiting for her. Some bowing deeply, some in prayer, some with fists across their chest. They seemed to be looking to her in...reverence? Yet, only yesterday they looked at her with such hatred, claiming so adamantly she was their prisoner. Not only was she uncomfortable, but she dug her nails further into her palms. She felt her rage building. She needed Keeper Deshanna. She wasn't nearly prepared to handle all of this on her own. If her emotions fell out of check again...and around shemlens? She bit her tongue hard.

Murmurs in the crowd. "It isn't complicated. Andraste herself blessed her." … "Blessings upon you, Herald of Andraste." … "She can seal those though — the Herald of Andraste." So much to say. So many whispers. Quickly, she drowned out the sound. The buzzing made her head hurt and her sore body ached further. Though, that phrase...Herald of Andraste? They kept saying it...to her? About her? She could easily come to the conclusion as to why, remembering the power of her mark over a tear in the sky. Though, she was surprised nonetheless. And the irritation persisted.

After some time arguing against the case of a holy war, Ash found herself tentatively agreeing to these women. Even the name they were giving themselves...the Inquisition. It sounded like another chance to gather as many templars as possible and slaughter any who disagree with them. Though when she looked to the hole in the sky, she knew her people wouldn't be able to do much. She couldn't risk the few lives left in her clan when this "Inquisition" was going to be happening with or without her. She would close the tear with their support, then return home. They said she could leave whenever she liked, so that was something. However, she still felt stuck.

Cassandra wanted Ash to return to the Chantry as soon as possible after she met with Solas about the mark. She was actually rather interested in speaking to him again. She wondered what had brought him here.

Ash approached him more confidently and calmly than she did the others, feeling immediately comfortable around another mage. On top of that, another elf.

"The Chosen of Andraste, a blessed hero to save us all," he said, turning to face her as he heard her approach.

She furrowed her eyebrows. The word hero burned the walls of her mind. Is that what she was to these people now? "I don't know about all that," she said. "I didn't ask for any of this...but someone has to find a way to seal this Breach."

"Spoken nobly indeed," he said. She squinted her eyes at him. "You think I'm mocking you. This age has made people cynical."

"Perhaps, but you act as if people have no reason to be," she said. "You have noticed the tear in the sky, yes?"

The corners of his mouth turned upwards ever so slightly. "I see your point. I simply... I've journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clash to re-enact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten. Every great war has its heroes. I'm just curious what kind you'll be."

She paused, ignoring the question entirely. "You travel deeply into the Beyond? What do you mean by ruins and battlefields?" She had a guess, but she wanted to confirm. Was he like her?

"Yes, I enjoy spending much of my time in the Fade - or the Beyond, as your people often call it. Any building strong enough to withstand the rigors of time has a history. Every battlefield is steeped in death. Both attract spirits. They press against the Veil and -"

She jumped in. "So, in conclusion, you dream yourself into these places."

He sighed. "It's more complex than that. It's -"

"Yes, I know," she said, smiling. "In the Circle, my friends called me a Dreamer. I could once travel deeply into the Beyond. I apologize for the interruption, but how exciting! I've only met one other like me before and only briefly. I would love to hear all you have learned from these places. Though, I am sure I could teach you some things, as well."

He looked surprised, then regarded her thoughtfully. "You said you used to, which means you're having difficulties? Is it the mark?"

She frowned and heat rose to her cheeks. Her lack of competency and control scared her, but also embarrassed her. In the Circle, she managed to remain so strong, despite everything. Nothing fazed her. The moment she left, though… She cleared her throat. "When we first realized what I could do, my Keeper trained me to strengthen my will and harden my sensitivities. But, we...I...a lot has happened since then. I'd rather not speak of it."

He bent his head a little to try and catch her eye. "If you are to stay here, I can help you in that regard. And I will stay, as well, at least until the Breach is closed."

With that, she looked up at him. "Was that in doubt?"

"I am an apostate surrounded by Chantry forces and unlike you, I do not have a Divine mark protecting me. Cassandra has been accommodating, but you understand my caution."

She nodded. "I do. You came here to help, Solas. I won't let them use that against you."

"How would you stop them?"

"Well, if you haven't heard, I have a fashionable, new, incredibly powerful, green, glowing mark that just about everyone here is obsessed with," she said. "I'd find a way.

He nodded with a smile. "Thank you. May I look at it? I do believe that was the purpose of your visit, was it not?"

She stuck out her arm abruptly, but he beckoned her inside the cabin behind him. Tentatively, she followed. It did look like he had made it his own. He had settled in with these shemlens, despite his hesitancy. She situated herself on a chair in the corner, while he took the one across from her. She reached out the arm again. He seemed to be manipulating the magic in her arm and the mark began to glow. He frowned.

"What is it?" Ash asked, intensely watching the magic weave around her arm.

He shook his head, dropping his hands. "More of the same. It seems...stable. Though, I have noticed your own magic seems unsteady, which I fear may affect the mark if it progresses in this way." She furrowed her brows. She did know it to be true, but the truth sounded harsh out of someone else's mouth. "Do you mind if I try...healing? It will not cure, but it may provide some relief."

Perplexed, she wondered why he thought she would care if he used magic on her. Spirit magic had been used on her - in considerable doses - by her Keeper many times in the past, but anything was worth a shot. Not to mention, Solas was a Dreamer, too. Perhaps he was more than just adept at healing magic. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes, but I feel compelled to make my way back to the Chantry, since I am not sure of how this kind of healing will affect me. Cassandra requested me to return right after meeting with you."

He stood up, offering his hand to her. Again, she appreciated the physical touch of another elf in this place. She already felt so lonely. "I understand. This manner of healing can be rather complicated." Given the many previous magic-based attempts at healing the tenseness of her mind and body, she was already aware of this. His words did not exactly soothe her anxiety about the situation.

She smiled. She knew her fake smile was far from anything resembling a real one, but she gave it her best shot. "I appreciate it. I'll stop by tonight, if that works?" She could feel the anxiety growing. Solas was clear it wouldn't "cure" her, but if it could give her any comfort? He did seem confident enough. Or, perhaps it was arrogance. She wasn't so sure, but she wanted to believe.

He nodded. "I will see you then."

"Dareth shiral, Solas," she said.

The Chantry was daunting, a central piece to this organization's operation in Haven. Returning to it, she felt a sense of foreboding. She saw Cassandra chatting with a few of the Chantry sisters on the side where she caught a glimpse of Ash. Cassandra caught Ash's eye and came over to her. They moved into the Chantry side by side.

Ash glared down at her arm - the thing that brought her here. The thing that could save all of Thedas.

"Does it bother you?" Cassandra asked.

Ash was, honestly, surprised by her concern. She wondered if it came from a place of true concern, though. "Not really," she replied. Frustration at herself built. She looked back down at her arm, muscles rigid. "If it wasn't enough to close the Breach, what use is it?"

"You did everything we asked of you."

Ash frowned, shaking her head. "And it still didn't work."

Ash looked to the other woman. Cassandra was regarding her carefully. The concern on her face did seem true. Yet, Ash's suspicions remained of her intent. "What's important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You've given us time, and Solas believes a second attempt might succeed — provided the mark has more power. The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by."

Ash scoffed, nearly under her breath saying, "Yes, of course. Wonderful idea. What harm could there be in powering up something we barely understand?"

"Hold on to that sense of humor," Cassandra said. Ash rolled her eyes. She wasn't really joking, though.

Ash was to stop the blood. Stop the screaming. Stop the slaughtering. Prove she wasn't a coward. It didn't prevent her from being angry, though. It didn't prevent her from seeing the truth of what this really was all about. As usual, for shemlens, it was about power. Solas asked what kind of hero she would be, but she could never be one for them. They would never accept that. Accept her. Not fully and not beyond their own need for the mark.

Cassandra led Ash through the room at the end of the Chantry hall. Ash stayed rigid, her eyes pointedly on the ground. She refused to look at anyone. "The proclaimed Herald of Andraste, Ashara Lavellan," Cassandra said, taking the liberty of introducing her as she remained silent. She finally moved her eyes up to see the other figures in the room as Cassandra continued. "May I present Commander..."

Standing before her, well, she first promised herself it was a vision. Then, she saw the equally horrified look on his face. It made her realize it was real. He was really there. They were still staring at each other and it was probably time for someone to say something. She felt fear? Grief? Rage? Something bubbled inside of her. Then, she felt sick. Physically ill. The word commander. Cassandra had said that, right? He was...a commander here. But, of course he was. She would never escape.

She nearly shouted, "I'm sorry to put this all on hold, but I think I may vomit. I'll only need about 5 minutes." Then, she ran out of the Chantry and into the snow behind it. Not as far away as she would've liked to have been, but she felt the bile building up.

She threw up. Then, again. And one more time, which by the third time, it was nothing but heaving. She was shaking, but not from the cold. She scooted herself away from the vomit and shoved her face in the snow to try to do something about the heat building up inside her. Then she grabbed some of the snow and swished it around to get the taste out.

She breathed a few times before standing up again. The Circle did not control her anymore. The templars did not get to dictate her. Not now and not ever again. She knew this, yet it still made her shake. Why was he here? Now, two people from Kirkwall haunted this place. Fenedhis. She could manage Varric. In fact, she liked him and appreciated his role in her freedom. But, it didn't stop the thoughts of Kirkwall when she saw him. She had been preparing herself for the presence of templars...but as a commander...and one from the Gallows…

She expected them to have looked into her. Shouldn't they have known she had been in a Circle before...escaped a Circle? She had been anxious about that fact this whole time and for nothing? Though, she supposed with Kirkwall...as it was...it would take some time to gather that kind of information. Did he not remember her? Or, maybe they all knew and thought she had just left it all in the past. But...he obviously didn't forget from the look on his face.

She tried to distance herself from her thoughts and focused on charging back through the Chantry doors. She couldn't let him think she was still so focused by Kirkwall. He probably didn't care at all. He would probably laugh to see her pain and how much of a struggle it's been to get as far as she has. When she came back into the room, she immediately blushed. Had they been speaking about her? What had he said? Creators, she had no chance of survival.

They all immediately looked at her as she walked through the door. She tried not to cast her glance downwards, so she looked at Leliana. Any face that was not his would do. "Sorry - sorry about all, um, all of that," Ash said, stumbling over her words. "I haven't eaten anything yet. And...and Solas did, um, did magic on my arm - my mark. And I'm overwhelmed at the thought of fixing tears in the sky and I guess - yes, well I'm back. So sorry."

She finally finished her thought and glanced over at Cassandra to her left. She gave Ash a soft smile. A voice with a thick accent - Antivan perhaps? - came from across the table. "You haven't eaten? Oh dear, then we will wrap this up quickly," the voice said. Ash refused to look in that direction. "And no apologies needed! Please, take your time to get well."

Cassandra said, moving forward slightly, "We want to discuss the plan on how to get your mark more power." Ash appreciated the change of subject wholeheartedly.

"Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help," Leliana added. Ash could not wipe the surprised look off her face. They'd really reach out for support from the mage rebellion? Even if they went against the official Chantry wishes, it did not change the basis on which they were built. Ash was suspicious. Perhaps they were just placating her.

"The commander had business to attend to. Though, we all know his advocacy for templar support in this situation," the Antivan woman said. Finally, Ash scanned the room in its entirety. The woman was beautiful and held herself in such a confident manner. Ash could tell she was clearly wealthy. She smiled at her brightly as they made eye contact at last. Ash's shoulders relaxed.

Then, she laughed. The other women all looked at her warily. "I'm sorry, but it isn't too surprising that a templar would be...for the templars, is it? Good to see such upfront bias and prejudice so high up in the ranks, though. It really makes me feel safe and comfortable here," she said.

"The commander isn't a templar anymore," Cassandra stated firmly and immediately. "He does not wish to be part of the Order again. He serves the Inquisition now, as do we all."

Ash rolled her eyes at this. They all thought this erased his past. They weren't even concerned with how she knew he was a templar. They were more concerned with how she viewed him. Perhaps they didn't even care about his past. They likely saw templars as righteous and pure. Just a few bad ones roughing up a couple mages here and there, but not often and not the templars they knew. Never the ones they knew.

Yet, here was one as their very own commander.