"Revelations"

'Cute? He thinks I'm cute?' Liz practically screeched inwardly. He couldn't just say that and then pass out. It just wasn't fair!

Liz was a melting pot of emotions, right then. Many things shot through her mind at light speed as she set a tray of bread and cheeses down on her nightstand. Her friend, or … was he her friend? He certainly was her friend, but what else were they? What would that even classify as? The two's relationship hung somewhere between friends and lovers.

The memory of their kiss flashed before her eyes.

It played, like a movie. Though you couldn't feel movies, could you? Feel the softness of his lips, or the burning sensation of the blush that crept up the back of her neck? The way her stomach flipped just thinking about the incident.

Her eyes darted away from Cole, who was asleep in her bed. He hadn't stirred since she put him into the bed. She'd used a spell to diagnose anything, if at all, and it'd simply told her that he was exhausted. Extremely so. His body, while more human, still seemed to be working completely fine. Which was good.

It was an odd sight. One that she wasn't quite used to. Cole asleep, that is. He shifted in his sleep and cuddled one of her many pillows. His straw blonde hair seemed nearly silvery in the moonlight that shot through her window. Her chest warmed at the sight as she pulled the blanket over his slumbering form. But unfortunately, she was supposed to be on the job at that current time. And she was late.

The young woman huffed and stood up to leave. She crept out of the room and left the door cracked, just in case. She walked to the balcony and took in a deep breath, allowing her mana to build in her stomach and slowly expand to the rest of her body.

She shrunk and shrunk, until she was a small black crow. Liz leapt off of the railing and dove just above the gardens, which where mostly empty aside from a few sisters and Mother Giselle.

This way was quicker.

The little mage flew over to the infirmary and burst into a puff of black feathers. She landed in front of the stone building on her, now, human feet.

"M-Maker's balls, kid!" An older male voice choked out, causing Liz to snap her attention up and through her mop of messy bangs. Adan was standing in the door that lead to the infirmary, hand on his chest. "You're going to give an old man a heart attack! Where have you been, your shift started ages ago!"

"My friend fell ill, I am here to retrieve a potion for him." Liz stated as she stood up straight, "I will return in a few short moments, I apologize."

With that, she shifted beside the elderly man and walked into the building. Her small fingers grazed the many glass vials that sat on the far shelf, just passed a few cots. One of which was occupied by none other than Kyle, the fabled Luckless Scout. The young man was covered nearly head to toe with bandages, three out of the four limbs in splints. It seemed he still nodded in and out of consciousness.

Liz let out a snort as she remembered the story of how he survived, her hand stuffing the potion into her pouch. It was minor and would help with any aches and pains that came with the exhaustion that Cole had. It wasn't anything too serious, yet. She would have to have a talk with him about his sleeping habits. Or, lackthereof.

The young woman turned to leave, only to come face to face with her superior. Adan's arms were crossed, his bushy eyebrow twitching as he glared down at the little mage.

"Don't you go thinkin' that you can get out of work just because you're the Inquisitor's sister." He griped, "I ain't givin' you no special treatment, girl."

"I never expected you to. Have I ever been late before now? I'll be back before you know it, Old Man." Liz waved him off, ducking underneath his elbow. She heard a derisive snort as she transformed into a crow again, taking off to the skies and toward the balcony of the Trevelyan's Quarters.

True to her word, it didn't take her long to leave the vial next to the food she brought her friend. With a note, of course. The hasty scribbles that kind of resembled common told him to eat and take the medicine, or there shall be consequences.

A few grumbled curses later and Adan hobbled his way out of the infirmary, leaving her alone with the patients. All of which were the ones under observation and asleep.

Liz's gaze slid over Kyle's battered form. The last time she remembered seeing him, he was stuck on the dragon's horns as it flew off. The sound of his scream had echoed over the battle, sounding distinctly familiar. Like a certain Wilhelm Scream.

The question being, how the hell did he even survive? He had stupid luck.

"Dad no..." She heard Kyle groan, his voice sounding croaky. Liz rose her brow, knowing that he was probably high on something Adan cooked up. "No … potato."

The little woman moved over toward him, checking his bandages and making sure he was comfortable. There was always a small piece of parchment on the rickety table near the beds that held the patient's information. Such things in her world would be illegal, due to HIPPA.

But this was Thedas.

"Hey, stay down." She grumbled when he began to twitch, as if trying to sit up. His brown eyes were opened and unfocused, blearily looking around the room.

"This isn't my house."

"No."

"So, no potatoes?"

"No."

With that, his eyes crossed and he plopped back into the cot. Liz squinted at Kyle's still form. Yeah, definitely high. She blinked and turned her attention toward the sheet of parchment, still barely able to read much.

'Scout Kyle Harrington

Left shoulder dislocation, both legs broken—lower calf. (Illegible) … every 4 hours for pain.'

Liz squinted, unable to really glean much else off of it. She knew to compare the names of medicines to the titles on the vials in the shelves. So that wasn't hard. But it seemed as though they expected him to recover but was unsure if he'd regain full movement of his left leg.

"Well, at least you're alive." She muttered to the unconscious man, setting the parchment down with a sigh. "…. damn kids."

Her lips twitched into a frown. Now she was beginning to sound like the Old Man.

Her shift was quiet that night. Mostly consisting of cleaning up the place and reorganizing the shelves for better efficiency. The patients remained asleep, even through her redressing. The tiny mage sighed and leaned against the cool stone wall, scanning the interior of the long worn down building. Inquisition banners were sprawled out across the far wall, along with small makeshift privacy screens between each bed. Which had been made at the request of Liz.

The torchlight flickered, setting the room in a warm glow. It was quiet, aside from the soft puffs of breath or the occasional snore from the Luckless Scout.

Liz was stuck alone with her thoughts. Which was never a good thing. She tended to overthink things. What had happened in the Main Hall? Her chest had exploded in pain. She'd thought it was stress. Not only that, but she'd been feeling things that she somehow knew weren't her own feelings. Hearing things, which seemed like auditory hallucinations at first.

But it had been Cole. Cole's thoughts. Or… something of the sort. He'd been unconsciously relaying certain things to her. His guilt. His pain. She could hear it all, like a whisper in the wind. At the time, she hadn't understood it. She didn't know him that well, so couldn't connect the dots.

It always seemed to loop back to him.

She scrunched her brows. Even now, she could faintly feel the tickle in the back of her mind. She seemed to almost instinctively know where he was.

Speaking of. He was getting out of bed right that moment. It was barely morning and he needed to get a full 8 hours, at least. Liz suppressed the urge to growl, 'You'd better lay back down you-'

He paused, as if he'd heard her. Only to continue on his shuffle out of the room.

'Great. Am I stuck with him being able to hear me at all times? Or maybe me hearing him sometimes? I'm going to think I'm going insane! I already think I'm going insane!' Liz screeched inwardly, resisting the rising need to pull out her hair. 'How can he handle this? Wait, why am I even able to hear him? Is it a mage thing? No… it's too weird. Athras never mentioned...'

Liz continued her inner monologuing, cleaning up as she finished her portion of the shift. It wasn't very long until one of the other healers came in to relieve her. Sweet sweet freedom. Even though by that point she was beat tired from staying up all night. Ahhh… night shifts.

The young woman stepped out into the fresh mountain air, taking a deep calming breath. 'I just need to calm down. Don't think about it. Later. I'll ask later.'

It wasn't the best way to deal with things, but—wait. Liz's eyes narrowed as someone came stumbling around the corner of the Herald's Rest. It was nearly dawn as the sky slowly began to lighten. The fortress was drowned in a deep hue of blue as the figure stumbled up to her as she continued to walk.

She'd been hoping that they would ignore her, but her luck was never that good.

"He-Hey. You." The middle-aged man slurred, his finger pointing at the little mage. She pointed at herself as if to ask, 'me?'. "Yes, you."

"Can I help you?"

"Yer th-the gud fer nothin' witch that—blerghbrlb-" He continued to speak, his words hard to decipher. She could have sworn she heard 'knife ear' and 'cock block'. That's when Liz recognized the man as the one that had been harassing Serana. The man she'd intended to pants but accidentally sent them bursting to tatters.

"Look, I would apologize but you were being a complete knucklehead." She crossed her arms, hoping that he would just turn around and go away.

"Don't you talk to me that way, bitch!" He went in to swing but she stepped aside, his body moving slowly as he stumbled passed her. The stench of cheap ale and sweat permeated off of the dude as he turned. She expected anger, but she saw smugness. Smug? She was in the middle of tilting her head in confusion when-

'Crack!'

Liz's vision went white and blurry as the world shook and twirled. She fell to the ground with a loud, 'Thump!' Her body crunched into the cold ground, rocks and bits of dirt getting stuck in her shoulder as she slid.

"Hah! Serves ya right!"

A distraction? That cheeky little-

"Oy, did I git er?"

"Yeh, what should we do with 'er? I hear she's a Witch of the Wilds, like in them stories." He hiccuped and Liz groaned from her spot on the ground, her little hand grasping the back of her pounding skull. Her brown eyes zeroed in on the two people above her, one of which was holding a wooden board of some sort.

She lifted her hand away and looked at her fingers. She could even feel the blood starting to seep through and soak her strands. Great.

Liz knew of the rumors going around about some people in Skyhold thinking she was a Witch of the Wilds. Whatever that meant. Just a wild mage, she assumed. They weren't terribly wrong, if she were to think about it objectively. She did, in fact, learn how to control her magic from nature. And her Hahren.

"No, you gotta be shittin'. She ain't no witch."

"Haven't you heard the rumors, you idjit?" The drunkard yelled at the man with the wooden board. He looked unamused.

"Are you serious? I thought you wanted to get back at me for tearing your breeches but really? A Witch of the Wilds?" Liz sneered from her spot on the ground, her fingers clenching in anger. "Does your arm hurt? Because you're really reaching there, buddy."

"Shut up!" He turned and kicked her, sending her rolling in the dirt. The little woman didn't even get any time to react and that was when she realized he wasn't as drunk as she thought he was initially. Liz was stuck laying on her back, watching the walls and tops of the buildings spin.

"F—crap." Liz sputtered, feeling blood dribble out of her mouth. Her jaw felt like it was set on fire as she clenched her eyes. "Ow ow ow..."

"Leave her alone!" A familiar voice rang from her side. Unsurprisingly, Cole put himself between the trio as he stood above her.

"Who the heck're you?"

"You won't hurt her. I won't let you." He sounded resolute as she turned her head to look at him. The fierce look in his eyes and how his mouth twitched into a disdainful frown. He looked like he wanted to carve them to pieces as he held out one of his daggers menacingly.

Liz could hear the two men squabble between one another before they scampered off, evidently thinking better of the situation.

Cole turned and knelt next to her, his fingers coming up to touch her jaw. The anger in his blue eyes seemed to nearly dissipate when he came closer, softly caressing the side of her face.

"I'm fine, Cole." She tried to reassure, pushing herself into a seated position.

"You always say that! 'I'm fine.' But you say that when you're not fine!" He sounded upset as he fretted over her. She turned and frowned, wiping away the blood from her mouth. She could already feel the huge bruise that was going to form on the side of her face.

"I still haven't forgiven you for making me forget about you, you know." Liz spoke through clenched teeth, "We're still friends, but I need you to know that I'm really fu—I'm really pissed about what you did."

She remembered. She remembered it all. He'd even done it while he was Despair. Back when she was bathing.

The thought caused her cheeks to redden. He'd likely only done it to make her feel uncomfortable, which was what Despair had wanted. To prove to her that he didn't care about how she felt. Didn't care about her boundaries.

"I-I'm sorry! I panicked, I—I." Cole's face burned bright, cheeks reddening an even darker shade than her own. He lowered his head, as if to try and hide it underneath his giant floppy hat. "There was so much, all at once." His hand came up to rest upon his chest, fingers clasping at his shirt. As if remembering.

Liz could feel it, then. What he felt. Resonating—again.

"So… it's you."

"Me?"

"I can hear you. Feel you." Liz stared at him, focusing inward. Trying to understand. But she couldn't. She just couldn't. This should be out of the realm of possibility. "Why...why does it feel like you're calling out to me?"

He seemed to think for a moment, minutes maybe. Cole slowly regained his composure as he schooled his features, looking up at his friend.

"Your Grandma was a nice lady. I didn't remember until Despair came. He—I-I knew, then. Your friend on Earth. It was me. I heard you calling for me, whispering to the little spirits near the lake with your grandmother. So gentle. So kind. We liked you." His blue eyes seemed to drift as he remembered and as he kept speaking, Liz could feel her brain threatening to stop. "You were so very small and fragile. I wanted to protect you. To save you from him. The Nightmare."

So … she wasn't just seeing things when she was a child. The floating lights and the 'spirits' in her dreams. Her imaginary friend in the waking world, as her mother had called it. Her grandmother had always encouraged it and taught her how to properly commune with the spirits without hurting them. Without inviting the wrong ones in.

Even back then…

Everything seemed to slowly begin to click into place as she processed this information. The similarities. How he'd saved her from the Nightmare before Adamant had practically screamed the truth. But she didn't see it. How she could feel him smile, just like she could her friend. I mean, who the hell can feel those things? It wasn't normal.

None of this was normal.

Then again, Liz stopped being normal long ago. That, unfortunately, didn't explain how she got into this world. She had a feeling she'd never have that answer.

"Twinkling, twirling—traveling through the Fade. Even back then. Back at home. You were special, our little light."

"That name..." That's the name they'd called her. Her friend. The white figure. Brown eyes locked onto blue, unable to look away. It all seemed to make sense, then. It felt as if he could feel her coming to that conclusion, because he nodded his head ever so slightly. Confirming.

The things he'd said—

'He can't hurt you. He won't.'

'H-How do you know?'

'I won't let him.'—

'And I felt him smile.'—

Blinding light, Demon!Elise and Demon!Erin disappearing. A beach. He was the one—

"Jesus Christ." Liz put her hand to her mouth, her mind reeling. How could she have been so blind? How could she not have seen all of the signs until now? Was she really that dense?

All those times, they weren't coincidences. All of the times that she thought Cole seemed eerily familiar with the things he said and did.

Cole simply sat there as she sputtered. He didn't say a thing, simply watched as she regained her bearings. Watched as she stumbled up, despite the way the world seemed to shift from her dizziness. Watched as she nearly tripped as she hastily made her way into the Main Hall and away from him.

He said nothing.

Neither did she.

It took time, processing that kind of information. Time for her brain to fully realize how dense she'd been. For so long. There'd been many hints thrown and waved in front of her face. Heck, she'd even felt him on occasion unlike how she's felt other people's intentions. It was all just so… confusing.

Liz, for the longest time, couldn't get over how she'd been so inexplicably drawn to the lanky rogue. How familiar he seemed to be, despite their hairy and dark past. How comforting he was to be around. Like reuniting with an old friend, yet not.

It was because, even during her time on Earth she'd been friends with him. Some how some way. Granted, he wasn't the same as he was back then by any means. He wasn't merely Compassion nor was he Cole. He was some jumbled mix of the two. He was… himself. Part of him had been her friend, back then. But another part of him hadn't. Two separate entities at one point, but now he was this. What made him … well, him.

She realized that, now.

It all seemed rather cliché, now that she thought about it. He was technically a childhood 'friend' that she currently had a romantic interest in. Even though things were quite complicated as of late.

Liz snorted and picked at her furs, listening to her brother idly chat about what they were planning to do. She hadn't heard much of it, but he usually ranted about his responsibilities anyway. Didn't really need any input, most of the time.

"What do you think?"

Unfortunately, now was not one of those times.

'Shit.'

"Uh… yes?" She answered, in hopes that he wouldn't realize she wasn't even listening to a word he'd said. It was getting later in the day by that point and she still hadn't gotten proper sleep.

"Seriously? You and Cassandra? You guys are plotting behind my back, I swear." Max groaned and put his palm against his face. He then grumbled a, "I hate dealing with nobles. You know, you used to side with me on these things."

Ah. Well, at least she happened to agree with Cassandra. She was sensible, at least. Lucky shot.

"Sorry, bro. Gotta grow up sometime and dance the dance. Talk the talk." She was getting better at this.

"And play The Game, yeah yeah. I get it. Doesn't mean I have to like it..." He mumbled the last sentence as they came upon the Herald's Rest. A young dwarven woman was standing near the entrance of the building, looking absolutely flabbergasted. Max greeted her jovially, "Oh, hey there scout Harding. How've things been going?"

She turned her beautiful freckled face up toward her brother, mouth pinched in worry. The little mage stretched as Harding answered.

"That strange boy just went by... With an armful of chickens. Y-you're looking after him, right?" She asked hesitantly, eyes squinting ever so slightly. This caused Liz to pause in her stretching and look over at her curiously.

Strange, huh? The only person she knew that was strange enough to carry around an armful of chickens?

"Cole..." Both Liz and Maxwell sighed at the same time. He certainly had an odd way with going about helping people, that was for sure. But his heart was in the right place, so the two of them never faulted him. Even if there were sometimes misunderstandings.

Without even a second thought, Liz began to walk in the direction Harding had looked. The thought of encountering him after learning of their past(s) made her feel nauseous. Not in a horrible way, by any means. Liz wasn't sure how to feel about the situation at hand, if she were to be honest.

Her feet crunched against the gravel as she entered the lower courtyard, eyes scanning for her hat-loving-friend.

What would he even be doing with so many—wait. Brown eyes locked onto a lanky form near the outside entrance to the kitchens, along with the distinct sound of yelling and distressed chicken sounds. They clucked and cawed, flapping about as they were shooed out, along with their resident awkward spirit.

Liz simply stood there near the well in stunned silence, taking in the situation at hand.

"Go on! Git!" The older woman screeched, flapping her apron at Cole and sending bits of dough and flour fluffing into the air. He slunk away, looking dejected.

"Uh…. Cole?" She spoke up as he got closer, causing him to snap his attention toward her. Liz crossed her arms and smirked, "What were you doing?"

"The cooks needed more eggs." The young rogue fidgeted, his fingers picking at the frayed ends of his longsleeve. His blue eyes seemed to dart away from her brown ones, denoting his embarrassment.

"So…. You brought them chickens?" She asked.

"That wasn't right." He answered, as if just now realizing it. "It's hard now. Harder to hear, to see. But I can learn."

Liz sighed and grabbed him by the hand, leading him back to the chicken coop. "I would assume you would know where to get the eggs since you tried to eat them raw during your first week being human." She commented offhandedly.

"No… they were in the kitchen. They come from chickens, but—"

"In here." Liz stopped in front of the chicken coop, which was near the stables. The door opened with a loud creak, causing some of the chickens to begin clucking at the sudden appearance of a new human. The little mage let out a soothing coo, "It's okay, guys. I'm just here with a friend."

The clucking seemed to die down a bit, leaving the duo in relative silence as she stepped up. She sighed and held out her hand, leading him into the small chicken coop. Liz pushed a lock of her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear as she walked up to the boxes that the hens were in.

They were brown, some of them spotted and white. The chickens were a range of all kinds of different colors. Some of them observed from their boxes, heads shifting side to side. Watching. She pointed at the eggs.

"The hens lay eggs here and usually the cooks assistants come and collect them during the day." She explained, grabbing one of the brown freckled eggs from one of the empty boxes. "They bring baskets and carry them up to the kitchens to use."

It was a simple way to show him how to collect the eggs in the future. Liz knew that adjusting to this world wasn't easy, by any means. Especially since things worked vastly different there than in the Fade.

"But aren't there baby chickens inside of the eggs?" Cole sounded horrified. Probably just now realizing that they were, in fact, the hen's offspring.

Or, would be.

"These chicken eggs are unfertilized, since the hens here are kept without roosters. They're just used for food, basically." She explained with a small smile, "So you don't have to worry about that, Cole. We wouldn't eat baby chickens."

The little mage held out the egg, watching as he stared down at it. He didn't take the egg from her hand. Rather, he held her cupped hands between his own and ran his thumb across it curiously. His mouth opened and closed, as if to speak. But nothing came out. His brow furrowed.

Liz tilted her head slightly, wondering if he had a question about something.

"It has freckles, like you. They're… pretty." He commented, his cheeks flushing slightly at the comment. His hands shook as his fingers left her hand to brush against her cheek. It seemed he was finding every excuse to touch her, as of late. Not that she minded.

Liz's eyes snapped up and met his, her legs wobbling as her heart sped up. The warmth of his palm seeped into her skin, making her flush. Fingers threading into her hair. Heart thumping relentlessly.

Why was he leaning forward? His face was getting so close. Cole's blue eyes were half lidded and she felt herself doing the same.

Liz panicked inwardly, but didn't ... She didn't want him to stop.

"Erin!?" Maxwells voice echoed outside of the chicken hut. The small Mage let out a squeak and clenched her hands.

'Crick'

Cole disappeared, right in front of her. She could even see the shimmer of his semi-transparent form as he slowly slinked off into the corner of the coop.

"Erin, did you find-" he walked into the building and looked at her oddly. Her face was flushed and hair disheveled. "Cole."

"Erm..." That was when she noticed that her hands felt wet. And slimy. "Y-yes."

"Are you feeling alright? Why do you have... Why did you waste an egg like that?" He asked and she let out a sound akin to a groan and a sigh. Liz flicked bits of slime and yolk from her hands.

She faintly noticed Cole's outline as he tried to sneak passed Maxwell and out of the small hut. Unfortunately the older Trevelyan seemed to have keen eyes, especially since his blind eye had been miraculously healed during that incident at Adamant Fortress.

Just as the rogue was about to make a stealthy retreat, Maxwell's hand shot out and hit the frame of the door with a loud

'THUD!'

He effectively blocked the way, his eyes trailing off of his little sister and onto the taller man.

"Hey there, buddy. Where do you think you're going?" He gave him an unnervingly friendly smile.

Cole came out of stealth, face flushed as he stared back at the Inquisitor. Liz blinked and wiped the remnants of the egg off on her fur pelt, eying the two oddly.

"I-I was just...I was—eggs!" Cole nearly seemed to shrink into himself under his gaze. Evidently something happened between the two and Max wasn't all too happy with the young man.

"Wow." Liz snorted, noticing her friend's face, "You're really red."

"I'm not red, I'm Cole." Was his awkward answer, eyes darting nervously.

Liz sighed, resisting the urge to slam her head into the wall. "Well… I'll leave you guys to it."

She shuffled passed, slowly creeping her way away from the chicken coop. 'What was that about?'

A few sharp barks later and a slamming of the chicken coop door, her brother left stomping away toward the stone staircase leading to the upper courtyard. Chickens were clucking frantically as the door was reopened, revealing a flustered Cole.

"You alright there, Cole?"

"Yes." He answered, fingers twining with one another as he approached, "Your brother is mad at me."

"I would ask… but I feel it's probably not my business anyway." She drawled, resisting the urge to demand an answer. Sometimes things were better left alone.

"He knows… about you forgetting, that is. His anger is simmering, but at least it isn't boiling. Like before. When he found out." The lanky rogue let out a quivering sigh, "I don't like it when my friends are angry at me. I'm sorry, Liz. I didn't mean…. I didn't-"

"It's… okay. I forgive you." She spoke softly, "I shouldn't. I would normally be angry for a long time, since I'm prone to holding grudges. But I know how you can be. I know you didn't do it out of malicious intent."

He stared at her, surprised.

"…. really?"

"Yes, really." Her eyes seemed to soften, again. "Just… promise me that you'll talk to me if you feel like that, again. I don't want you to feel like you have to do that."

He nodded, the tenseness of his shoulders seemingly loosening at her words. Liz' stomach fluttered and she fidgeted, wanting to make him feel better—but.

Hell, why not.

Live in the moment, Elise would have said. So she did. Liz grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down to give him a small peck on the cheek. She pulled away just in time to see his eyes widen into saucers, his hand flying to his face where she'd smooched him. A deep red blush crept up both of their necks as they turned away simultaneously.

"Er—I—I have things to-" Liz stuttered and skittered away, intent on doing whatever it was she was supposed to be doing. Leaving the rogue to his thoughts.

(The Next Morning…)

"And you should have seen yourself! You were riding a frigging dragon, Kyle!" Jade was waving her arms animatedly as she relayed the story to the incapacitated man. He grunted in what sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "I don't even know how you survived, eh? Did anyone fill ya in on what happened?"

Another grunt, which Jade seemed to understand. Liz continued to idly flip through the pages at the desk, not really reading. But listening. She was beginning to feel the exhaustion, but trudged onward. She had, afterall, volunteered to take the night shift.

Liz knew a little bit about what happened and it didn't bode well for the world. To put it simply. The Inquisitor had been able to close the rift, but not without many casualties. Any Wardens that sided with them and decided to help were either dead or had disappeared. They'd been driven out by the demons and possessed mages.

Pieces of the Nightmare demon had entered the physical world, somehow. With their numbers dwindling, they hadn't been able to face it head on.

That, and the icing on the cake? More rifts were opening up across Thedas. Mostly in those areas, to be fair. But it was spreading like a plague. And a cherry on top. Maxwell was also expected to stop an assassination from happening. Empress Celene's life was in danger and they were going to attend her God's forsaken Ball.

A Ball.

Even though the world was thrown into turmoil, the Orlesians still wanted to have their damn Ball. Liz was absolutely baffled by it. How could they have their heads so far up their asses and be so blind to what was going on around them? The world was literally ripping apart at its seams and they wanted to dance and play a game.

"What the fuck." She said, causing the duo at her left to pause. Jade had quieted down.

"What's wrong, shorty?" The dwarf turned to her and asked, looking genuinely concerned.

"Nothing." She lied, "There's just so much paperwork to do here. It seems to have piled up since Serana left. Where is she, anyway?"

The dwarf almost seemed to have frozen in her spot. She turned and her green eyes connected with Liz's brown ones. She spoke, almost hesitantly, "You don't know?"

"What don't I know?"

"They're saying she's an abomination. She's in the prison cells, right now. Has been since we got back."

"…...What?" Liz asked through gritted teeth.

Cole

People always talked about falling in love. It was not something that he had ever thought he himself would one day ponder. He knew that he loved his friends. Dearly. He cared deeply about them. Would do anything for them. That wasn't something new, since he'd felt such things even before he knew what he was.

What was it, then, to care about someone in a romantic sense? What did it feel like? Was it as wondering—wistful as most made it out to be? Did it hurt? Would it?

No, he decided. No, it did not hurt.

He thought this as he watched the angered little woman rip into her brother of this world. Her words, doing more damage than any sword could. Words sometimes held more weight than anything physical in this world. Yet actions themselves could even outweigh any words. It was confusing.

They were in the War Room, a heated discussion taking place in front of him as he sat behind the Trevelyan's silently. Light streamed in through the windows, hitting the Commander's hair and causing it to glow with flicks of gold. He leaned forward after he was done speaking his piece, his honey eyes zeroed in on his tiny mage friend.

After the Inquisitor didn't object his proposal, which had been to either exile Serana from Skyhold or expel the spirit from her—effectively killing her in the process.

"--I'm sorry? I didn't know we turned on our own people now, Inquisitor." Liz snapped out his title like it was venom. Clearly furious about their propositions. Serana and Hope had never hurt anyone. Didn't intend to. Which was why he was initially called to the War Room.

"Whether it's a person or not is debatable, you must-" Cullen was about to explain his reasoning when he was cut off by a rather loud crashing noise. The wood from the table in the middle of the room cracked and splintered through the middle, sending books and trinkets flying. Liz's fist slowly raised, leaving a charred mark in its place.

"Choose your next words wisely, Commander." Liz's tone was dark. Darker than Cole ever remembered it being. "This woman that you call an 'it' just so happened to save men and women alike with this gift of hers. She is an accomplished healer and has done nothing but good for the Inquisition." The little woman's eyes widened, "Oh, and didn't she also relieve some of your own pain? Or have you conveniently forgotten?"

Cole tensed from beside his friend when the Commander appeared to get even angrier at her comment. Especially when she brought it up. Sometimes he still heard The Song, calling and tempting him back. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. He would never.

"She is an abomination." Cullen spoke, as if speaking to a child. 'She doesn't know what she's talking about. She's never seen what I've seen. Naive. Childish. She'll get us all killed.' Cole heard. Memories of fire and screams filled the Once-Spirit's mind. Though not as potent as it used to be. He could feel the terror attached to them. He was about to make a comment about her not knowing about abominations and what they can do to people, but Cole spoke before he could.

"She does. She knows. Talking about it hurts. She doesn't know about The Song. She didn't know that it hurt, too." He tried to clarify, trying to ease some of the tension in the room. If it escalated any further, it may have turned into a physical confrontation.

Cullen sighed, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. They'd been arguing for a good ten minutes until now. Mostly it was the Commander and Liz. Maxwell had been torn. But not anymore.

"I've decided." The few who were in the room looked to the Inquisitor, who had his hand underneath his chin. "Cassandra, could you bring Serana to the War Room please?"

The short haired woman nodded and left the room. The wooden door clicked shut, leaving the rest in awkward silence. Liz stared regretfully down at the cracked War Table and books that had been victim to her outburst. Cullen was standing straighter than normal, his eyes refusing to meet hers. Leliana, as per usual, seemed to blend into the background.

She'd been able to acquire bits and pieces of her past with her connections. It had been difficult, since she was dalish. But not impossible from the Spymaster.

When they came back, Solas was with them. He'd been visiting and insisted on being there for the fidgety elf. The door shut behind them and Cole's eyes zeroed in on Serana. The silvery haired woman's face was red, eyes darting around nervously. She was under the scrutiny of too many for her liking.

But that wasn't all. Something was wrong. Cole began to get worried, seeing as how she was paler than normal. "Are you sick?"

"S-S-Sorry. N-No I am okay, Cole. T-thank you for your concern."

"She just woke up. Why the meeting so early in the morning?" Solas questioned.

"I was just recently informed of Serana's predicament and thought that it should get sorted out as soon as possible." Liz answered without a beat.

Maxwell nodded at the younger Trevelyan's statement, "Serana, I've called you here to hear your side of the story. If you're going to be working for the Inquisition, I'm sure you'll understand that I need to take extra security measures to ensure the safety of those in Skyhold. Yes?"

"I-I understand, Inquisitor." She stuttered.

"Inquisitor—you can't be serious."

"I am." He turned to look at the ex-templar, "Erin made a convincing argument. If she were to be a danger, she would have already posed a threat. I need to hear what she has to say."

"And if she is?"

"Then we cut her down." Leliana spoke all too readily. Cole could see Liz flinch at the comment.

It took a few moments before the young elf opened her mouth, her hands clammy. As she relayed her story about her and Hope joining, Cole felt a pull. Something from within her reached out to him and he reached back, curious. Almost instinctively. His senses were overloaded with everything all at once, his body froze in place. Hope—

A memory of a little silvery haired elf popped forth. She was so happy and cheerful. Plagued with dreams, hunted. Alone. But Hope was there. Protecting her. Keeping the demons away. She showed talent at such a young age.

Then one fateful night, the clan was raided by a rather large group of bandits. Serana, who was around 14 years old at the time, awoke to the screams of her Clan brethren. She jumped out of bed and swiftly grabbed her staff. Everything was blurry around her, but the image of the teenage Serana was crisp and clear. Cole was Hope, flitting and fluttering around her physical form. Following her from the Fade in this memory.

Panicked, the little elf began to look for her mother and the Clan children. That's all that mattered to her. Fire roared in the background, signaling the demise of their aravels. Their attackers were barking out orders and the Clan's warriors fought back despite the odds.

She bobbed and ducked, keeping out of sight as she made her way to where the children usually played.

Then came the screams. Oh Creators, the screams. Who in their right mind would kill children? What kind of sick bastards were these people?

As Serana was about to enter the aravel, a bandit was sent careening out of the entrance. With a girlish shriek and a sickening crack as he hit a nearby tree, he was dead. She flinched at the sight of the mangled man, eyes darting toward her destination.

"M-Mamae!" She called as she barged inside. Deshanna was standing in a corner with her staff out, hand outstretched as she faced the doorway. As fierce as any warrior. Behind her stood most of the children, shaken. "You must leave, Mamae. Where is father?"

"Help me get them out of the camp, Da'len." She answered in a rushed tone, ignoring her question.

"But-"

"Now!"

"Fenedhis." She cursed under her breath, ignoring the scolding look her mother gave her as they began to file out the front door. Her mother took point, sending fireballs and force magics at the enemies. Some were catapulted into nearby aravels, which were on fire. Others were burned to a charred crisp.

Unfortunately for Serana, she had been separated from the small group after thinking she saw her father amongst the fighting warriors. With them nowhere in sight, her distraction proved to be a fatal mistake.

A laugh broke out from behind her, causing her to whip around with widened eyes. Her hand was halfway outstretched before she felt the cool metal pressed against her soft throat.

"Nuh uh. Ya ain't goin' nowhere." A scraggly man in leather armor grinned down at her. He towered over her and smelled of booze and soot. Serana knew for certain that the blood upon him was not his own, and it only seemed to fuel her anger.

"Yer pretty cute fer a knife ea-" He was cut off as she knocked the sword away from her neck, a burning pain erupted from her arm as she was sliced open. Hot liquid oozed from the cut as she turned to try and flee. She was cut short as her hair was grabbed roughly, causing her body to flip and dangle in his grip.

"L-Let me go!" Serana called, but her cries were for naught. The battle around her proved to be too loud, too hectic as her screams were drowned out.

"Not worth it." He growled. And with that, she knew the feeling of a blade being plunged through her torso. Serana opened her mouth to gasp, but blood was the only thing that came out as she began to choke.

The memory of Hope swaying side to side frantically pulled at something within Cole. The little teen's body fell onto the unforgiving ground.

'Nono! No! Serana! Serana!' They yelled, but their words fell upon deaf ears. The blood was pooling beneath her. A deadly waterfall that soaked the dirt.

During her last moments, Serana was facing the sky and bleeding out. The bandit apparently decided it would be best to let the 'savage' suffer alone as her family died around her.

'Is this really it?' She thought weakly, the thought echoing through the Veil. Hope heard it. Tears pooled in the woman's eyes. She was remembering her family, her parents. Her clan. The only thing that ever mattered to her, dying around her. She only hoped, hoped to the Creators, that the children had gotten out okay.

'Keep them safe.' Her last thoughts, her last wishes, connected with Hope. Hoping for safety, hoping for more, hoping—but never hoping for herself.

Even then, she would at least die knowing she tried. She really tried.

"No." A voice, not male nor female, rang through the air.

"I should have died that day..." Serana explained, tears falling freely down her face. Cole was slowly regaining his wits as the memory washed away like a receding tide. His breaths were quick and shallow. Hope showed him that for a reason. 'Help' they seemed to say. "Hope has only ever helped. They've never been malicious in nature. Solas c-can account for that. I didn't fully realize Hope was there until the darkspawn attacked my camp years later. It…. It was terrifying. But they helped. They've only ever helped."

"So Solas knew?"

She seemed to peer toward the bald man, who nodded, "Y-Yes. He did."

"Hope helped heal. After Haven. In Skyhold. After Adamant." Cole explained, crossing his arms and curling into himself. "I saw, they showed me. Serana isn't lying."

"You know that your connection to this being could potentially be dangerous to us all? Yet you said nothing?" Cullen frowned.

"And what would she have said? What could she have told you that would have changed anything?" Solas spoke up for the young woman, eyes hardening as he stared down the Commander. "She would have been imprisoned, if not outright killed."

Cullen was about to comment when Maxwell put up his hand, nipping it in the bud. "Alright, look. We will keep her under watch, indefinitely. She's done nothing but help this entire time. We already let a spirit join the Inquisition…. what's another one going to do?"

"You-"

"Thank you! I will try my best not to disappoint!" Serana's small voice rang throughout the war room. Her pale face was flushed, eyes wide and full of tears. "I-I'm sorry for not saying anything! I-I w-was scared." She squeaked.

"As any of us would have been..." Liz tried to speak softly, but it came out clipped.

Liz

Nearly everyone had left by the time she was done sorting through the things she'd toppled over during her fit of childish rage. She wasn't usually one to let that happen, but when it came to her friends she tended to get a little overprotective.

Especially since she didn't see Serana as necessarily bad, by any means. She may turn out to be more of a liability later on if the situation called for it, but she didn't think that it would happen. It would have happened back at Adamant, if anything.

The way Liz saw it, she was helping the Inquisition more than she was harming it at this point. And as long as she was under strict observation, it shouldn't turn out to be an issue.

She sighed as she put the papers atop the War Table, her eyes traveling up as the last person left the room. Or, so she thought. Solas and Cole stood near the door, looking over at her expectantly.

Probably waiting for her?

"There are some things that I wished to speak to you about, Erin." Solas spoke up from in front of the door, his hand waving and his mana welling up. A spell of some sort. Probably a deafening spell. Instantly she felt on edge. He turned, arms positioned behind his back. As he usually did when he was thinking or observing things. "Or would you prefer that I call you Liz?"

At that, even the once-spirit snapped his attention toward the apostate—completely surprised.