Meredith was unrelenting in her attacks. After she spotted Cullen, she seemed to become both encouraged and enraged. She cackled manically as she swung her greatsword with speed, power and precision. Cullen was completely baffled by it. She was totally outplaying him at every move. He'd only just barely managed to dodge her attacks. He wasn't even convinced that he'd hit her yet. All he could think to do was lead her away from the rest of the camp.

She'd chased him to an isolated area now. It seemed to be an extension of the clearing they'd made camp in. But with the deep water of the lake at his back, he knew he was running out of room fast. It gave him plenty of room to maneuver around her though. The only structure around was this rickety, decrepit dock. Seemingly abandoned long ago with almost everything else that wasn't within the borders of the settlements.

He put everything he had left into the fight, but the aching fatigue in his bones told him that he couldn't keep this up for much longer. He knew he couldn't give up, not with the safety of the refugees depending on this. He hoped beyond hope that Barris and Cassandra were handling things better than he was at the moment.

"Meredith!" A draft of wind swooshed ominously passed his face as he narrowly dodged yet another attack. "Stop this madness at once!"

"You will not command me!" She slammed her greatsword down into the ground. This time it seemed she hadn't intended to hit him at all. Though, judging by the purely wicked grin on her face, she wouldn't have minded it. When the sword collided with the grass, numerous spikes of red lyrium erupted from the ground.

Cullen was lucky enough not to get impaled by one, but the force knocked him backwards. He scrambled to his feet again, as quickly as he could manage in his state. He got his bearings again in time to see Meredith stalking towards him.

The red lyrium had seemingly affected her from the inside out. When she spoke, small wisps of corrupted air spewed from her mouth. Her eyes were bloodshot but glowing with the same red tint that had taken over much of her body now. It was only then that Cullen realized that this was not Meredith any longer.

He couldn't claim some expert knowledge over this red lyrium or over what in the void was happening to his men. But he knew one thing: they behaved like abominations. Sentient, but crazed abominations. It was a chilling feeling to learn that he had reason to fear more than just magic and darkspawn now.

"No one will command me now! There is no will but mine! There is no Divine but me!"

Cullen gripped his bastard sword with both hands now. He backed away from her carefully. He wasn't sure how he was going to defeat her on his own but the very least he could do was keep her distracted. She seemed fixated on him for the moment, perhaps he could provoke that.

"Do you even hear yourself? You've faithfully served the Divine, the Chantry, and the people of Ferelden for years!"

Meredith seemed to take exception to that. She sneered as she raised her sword again. "Longer than you've been alive, boy!"

He jumped backwards just a little too slowly this time. The very tip of the sword managed to scrape across his stomach. His undershirt was torn from the impact, revealing the superficial wound. It was the knowledge that he couldn't hide his wounds that affected him more than the damage he suffered. It distracted him just long enough for Meredith to lunge at him once again. He was too slow to properly defend himself. He weakly blocked the first blow, but Meredith quickly countered by smashing the pummel of her greatsword into his head.

Cullen fell to the ground, completely disoriented. He only faintly registered his sword rolling out of his grasp. The world seemed to be spinning rapidly but he tried to get to his feet again. He couldn't...let her win...he had to...stand...

Meredith snatched Cullen up by the collar of his torn undershirt. With her free arm, she lifted him as high as she could reach. "Pathetic. You should have stayed a poor little farm boy. You were always a worthless, mindless little chantry rat. Too blind to see the truth of things. The templars will embrace a new dawn. We will paint the heavens red! If the chantry will do nothing to stop these blood mages, then the Divine Commander shall rise and bring forth righteous justice!"

Cullen huffed a tired laugh. He wasn't sure where that came from, but it seemed he couldn't help it at the moment. "Is that what you're calling yourself now?"

Her eyes seemed to flare with pure rage. "No one can question me! My Commandments are DIVINE!"

Another grovely voice came from somewhere behind Meredith suddenly, "Command this."

Before Meredith could turn towards them, she let out an unnatural screech in pain. Cullen blinked quickly to clear his blurry vision for a moment. He managed to catch the last moment of his sword being stabbed right through Meredith's chestplate.

Meredith turned her attention back to Cullen only to throw him into a nearby tree. He heard the crack more than felt it at the time. But slowly the pain in his shoulder reinforced the fact that he'd been injured once again. He anxiously wondered if he'd ever have use of his shield arm again.

He tried hard to focus on the events unfolding in front of him. He was absolutely certain that he'd never seen this man before. But seeing as how he was clearly in a better state to fight than Cullen himself was, he decided to ignore that for the moment.

His dark clothing was worn and tattered, but they must have been of a fine make originally. There was still bits of evidence of expensive embroidery, and his armor pieces seemed custom fitted. He emitted this blue glow that seemed like some kind of magic. Cullen almost had mistaken him for another 'helpful' spirit.

The man tossed Cullen's sword between both hands like it was some kind of toy. The commander in him had a mind to scold him. But Cullen quickly came to the realization of what he was doing. Testing the weight, getting a feel for the weapon. It put Cullen at ease knowing that the man obviously had some sense of formal training.

When Meredith charged at him, he was more than ready. His stance was a little clunky at first, but he seemed to adapt his rhythm quickly. The man was easily much faster than Meredith had expected. At every turn she seemed to underestimate him. "What manner of foul magic is this?!"

He danced around her, hitting her with multiple attacks before she could counter it. He only made a single misstep. He stumbled over another set of red lyrium spikes she conjured. The man hesitated for a moment, seemingly distracted by them. Cullen could have sworn he saw the man recoil from them, like he was frightened or perhaps simply unnerved by it.

Meredith stalked towards him slowly. Her armor was in pieces now, blood dripped from every wound but she still kept moving somehow. "Repent, mage! All will serve the Divine Commander!"

As Meredith drew closer, the man's blue aura glowed brighter. He was even faster now, even more powerful. He deftly dodged every swing, kept advancing on her at every turn. He pushed her back step by step until she was perched at the very edge of that old, rickety dock.

Cullen leaned heavily against the tree as he shuffled to his feet. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He watched as the man charged through Meredith's sword, kicked her squarely in the chest, and sent her plummeting into the dark lake's waters. The man stood there watching the water intently, as if he didn't believe it was over. He kept a keen gaze over the water even after it had stilled once again.

Cullen approached him slowly. "It's over. She can't swim with all that armor."

The man huffed a laugh. "Somehow I have my doubts."

"Perhaps that's wise..." Cullen took a moment to get a better look at him. His chestplate had a crest depicting some kind of bird on it. It was definitely not Ferelden. Part of the Templar's schooling was devoted to learning the noble houses in preparation for their inevitable interactions with them.

The man turned his back to the water finally. He gave Cullen a quick, acknowledging glance, but seemed much more interested in the red spikes still stuck in the grass. "What is this?"

"What?"

The man rolled his green eyes, clearly not caring if Cullen noticed or not. "Are you blind as well as a fool? The...whatever this is."

Cullen bristled at the man's tone but ultimately decided to pick his battles given the circumstance. "I've never seen anything like it before tonight."

"It feels...wrong." The man was seemingly transfixed on the spikes. He flexed his grip on Cullen's sword. "You'd best keep your people away from it."

"It feels...? What?" Before Cullen could question him further, he was distracted by Cassandra calling out to him.

She strolled up to them without urgency, a relieved smile was on her face. It told Cullen all he needed to know. They'd won, it really was over. "Knight-Commander! We weren't certain that you'd survived."

Cullen forced a polite smile, but motioned to his injured shoulder. "Just barely. It seems the Maker saw fit to send help."

When he turned back to the man, he was met with a menacing glare. The man's head cocked slowly to the side as he stared him down. "Knight-Commander?"

"I, uh, yes?"

The man's expression lit up like a fire. He began glowing again-Cullen was close enough now to notice that it was those strange tattoos that were doing that now. He lunged at Cullen, far too quickly for him to react accordingly.

Cullen was certain he was about to be run through. But suddenly, a dark figure appeared between the two of them. It was that damned spirit from the woods again. The odd, large hat gave it away. He appeared as if he were still cloaked completely in shadow, despite the dim moonlight. It only served to drive the point home that this spirit was unnerving, at least as far as Cullen was concerned.

The man stopped in his tracks, his anger was redirected for only a brief moment. The spirit reached a hand out quickly, placing two fingers on the man's forehead. "Forget."

Fenris stumbled backwards for a step before righting himself. He had the overwhelmingly uncomfortable feeling of having lost time...and his unfamiliar surroundings only served to validate that. Where in the Maker's name was he? What was he doing? Who were these people staring at him? That woman was from the city, wasn't she? The city that fell...the wall...the darkspawn...he has to get home...Ashley...

Whoever these humans were and whatever just happened was inconsequential. He was probably just sleepwalking anyway, he likely stumbled out of the woods and frightened them. He was tired and hadn't eaten in days. He should just be grateful he was still in once piece. Fenris focused his mind again, trying to make damn sure he maintained control this time. He couldn't have himself losing time like that again. Finally noticing the sword in his hand, he smirked slightly. At least whatever episode that just unfolded had gained him a weapon. A bastard sword wouldn't have been his first choice, but it would do for now. He didn't bother acknowledging the bewildered humans again as he continued down the rocky beach. If he kept his pace, he should reach Jader by the next nightfall.