I kept my head down until the late evening, sulking in the gardens. Already rumours of 'the spymaster's assault on the Inquisitor' were spreading, but Mother Giselle wouldn't let it continue unchecked. I was grateful she kept the curious questions at bay, since I really didn't want to fuel the scandal. Besides, I was in no denial that it had been well deserved. I'd been too careless, and had sorely underestimated the willpower of those who called me 'friend'. Nonetheless, right now I wanted to be left alone, so I could find the courage to seek Cole and put an end to this.

My eyes turned skyward, watching the stars emerge. The moon was low, bathing the ramparts in pale blue, and I let out a breath. If only it could wash away the feelings within me as well. My strategies to keep myself aloof—once so assuring—had failed, and I was in an even worse position than before. My guilt was suffocating, my every thought so paralysed with fear that I didn't know what to do. Cassandra's wounds, Leliana's anger, Josephine's worry; they were like lead weights in my chest, snares around my heart that couldn't be snapped. No matter what I said or how I acted, they continued to believe I was worth their efforts, even though I knew otherwise.

But with Kianna always at the back of my mind, things couldn't go back to the way they were. I couldn't accept that my companions thought of me as more than just their leader. At the same time, I couldn't deny what was in front of me. Cassandra had followed me out of her own concern, not through an order. Leliana had wanted to knock sense into me, desperate I didn't become as distant and jaded as she. And Josephine's compassion had never wavered, not for an instant believing the words I'd meant to hurt.

Only for now, a voice echoed in my head. Maybe for today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, but one day it will end. One day someone more valuable will take your place, and you'll be left alone again.

I held my chest, unable to stop the spreading ache. I couldn't take the risk; couldn't allow myself to believe I was worth caring about. It was utterly, utterly unthinkable. How could I, when the very thought made my breathing shallow and chest burn and…

My breaths turned to short gasps, the pressure on my chest unbearable. Sweat began to pool in my palms, and my heart thundered into overtime. My vision blurred, and I felt like I was going to be sick. No, I couldn't let them, I couldn't let anyonenot again, never again!

"Inquisitor." A soothing voice called out, and a hand touched my shoulder. Mother Giselle. "It's alright, I am here. Count your breaths."

Despite myself, I forced out all the air in my lungs, fighting the temptation to just keep inhaling. Slowly I started to count. My pulse rumbled, so I gripped the bench as well, concentrating on the smooth wood beneath my fingers. One, two, three…

At twenty-seven breaths, the terrible dread began to pass. My shaking calmed, and eventually I returned to the present. I blinked, the gardens coming into focus. Mother Giselle was beside me, her brow raised. I sat there for a moment, composing myself.

"I'm…I'm alright," I said at last, wiping my forehead. "Sorry."

"There is no need to apologise," Mother Giselle said. "A great burden lies upon your heart, and I can see it is overwhelming you." She sighed. "I heard about what happened with Seeker Pentaghast, and I'm sorry. It must not be easy. Is there anything I can…"

"No." I didn't let her finished and stood up. "I…I will deal with it. It is my burden after all. But thank you all the same."

I strode back to the main courtyard, feeling her eyes upon me the entire way. I swallowed back my guilt. I hadn't wanted to speak so dismissively, but it had to be this way. Mother Giselle had seen me at my most vulnerable, and I didn't want that repeated. She didn't need to get involved. I had enough trouble from the others already.

The night air was cold against my skin, and I shivered. I couldn't believe I'd become so fragile; always a hair's breadth from falling apart. I could bear this no longer. My anxiety was consuming me, and if I didn't deal with it, I'd not be fit to lead anything. My only hope lay in erasing the memory that had reduced me to this mess. If Kianna were once again wiped from my mind, I could break free of her hold. I shouldn't have let it come to this, but I'd proven too weak to confront it, even after all these years.

I needed to be rid of her for good.

A yawn escaped me, and I climbed the steps to the southern ramparts. Most of the ways were empty at this hour, the people gathered in the tavern or tucked away in their bunks. The quiet was comforting, and I let my eyes close briefly. Such moments were hard to come by, and were thus worth savouring. Nonetheless, I couldn't dwell on the calm for long. I didn't want to give the others a chance to interfere.

I brushed back my hair, focusing on the south tower. Cole enjoyed lingering in the attic there, when he wasn't seeking people to comfort. I'd watched him do it many times, and it still amazed me. As a spirit of compassion, he had the power to make people forget. Unlike the Nightmare, who used such memories to further its strength, Cole merely gained satisfaction from giving others peace. It fulfilled his purpose, after all.

And if he could serve mine, the entire Inquisition would be the better for it.

The oak door creaked as I pushed it ajar, and I was assaulted by the musty scent of old wood. The attic was almost pitch-black, but light from the upper floor of the tavern gave some sense of direction. Alas, the attic was empty. Cole was not here. My heart sank. I didn't want to go looking for him, not when I might run into the others. But to leave it for the morning was not an option. I wouldn't stand a single night more of this, and I'd have plenty else to keep me busy tomorrow.

Laughter broke from the tavern, and I caught Iron Bull and Varric's shouts. Dorian and Blackwall soon joined them, and I bit back the hollow ache within. At least they'd had the sense to leave me alone, although for how long was anyone's guess. I'd seen their reaction when I'd brought Cassandra back, and could only imagine what hushed exchanges had gone on. No doubt a confrontation with them awaited on the dawn as well.

Sighing, I retreated outside and gazed across the fortress. I'd worry what the next day would bring later; first I needed to find Cole. Unfortunately he could've ventured anywhere, so I couldn't really narrow my search field. However, he often preferred to stalk the ramparts, so perhaps it would be best to start amongst the parapets.

A chill wind carried across the air, and I drew my jacket closer. The skies were cloudless, and brimming with stars. There would be a frost tonight. I glanced ahead, looking to the eastern tower. Aside from a few patrol guards, I could only pick out empty shadows and stone. I cursed, kicking the ground. Damn it, Cole! Where had he gone? He had no reason to wander around so late, not when there was hardly anyone who needed…

"Inquisitor?"

I almost jumped out of my skin. Heart racing, I spun around, only to see Cullen right behind me. He was holding a scroll in his hand, no doubt returning to his quarters. His eyes filled with concern, and I fought the urge to scowl. I didn't need his pity.

"What do you want?" My voice was brusque.

Cullen's eyes narrowed.

"I was merely going to ask after your well-being, given what happened at Crestwood," he said gruffly. "Will you deny us even that now?"

I let out a breath. I deserved that.

"No," I said. "Sorry. I didn't mean…"

Cullen's gaze relaxed.

"It's alright," he replied, his tone brightening. "I understand you're under a lot of pressure right now. It's a lot for anyone to bear." He looked up at the starry sky. "Come to clear your head, I suppose?"

"You could say that," I said, my pulse starting to race again. No, I had to keep it under control.

"Cassandra is doing well," Cullen went on, ignorant of my discomfort. "She was back on her feet this evening, much against the healer's advice, but she was adamant to scold Leliana for hitting you." He paused. "Even I agree that was too much. But Leliana can get…passionate about such things. We just worry about you, is all."

"I know. But there's no need." By now my breathing was starting to falter, so I turned to leave. Cullen, however, strode forward, blocking my path. I gritted my teeth. Maker, not now…you can't see me like this…

"Inquisitor, please don't do this to yourself." His voice was soft. "I know what it's like to lose all faith and think nothing you've done has worth anymore. But you mustn't believe it. No-one can take away what you've achieved, no matter the truth behind where your mark came from. Don't feel you have to prove yourself. We believe in you just as much now as we did before."

I could only nod, afraid to trust my voice. It was enough to satisfy the commander, who stepped aside and let me pass. I clenched my fists, desperate not to let another panic attack take over. I only got as far as the east tower before that awful ache came back. I stepped inside, shutting the door, then braced myself against the wall. My trembling returned, and I clasped my face, fighting to control my breathing. If only it were as a simple as a case of lost faith.

My legs gave way, and I crumpled to the floor, my head in my knees. Tears streaked down my cheeks, and I wrapped my arms around myself. How could they still hold such confidence in me? How could they still trust so easily? It wasn't fair; I didn't deserve any of it.

I screwed my eyes closed, the tears burning. This scar on my soul ran too deep. Like an iron chain it dragged me down, cutting welts so painful I couldn't breathe.

I just wanted to stop hurting.

I sat in the quiet darkness for a long while, unmoving. Trying to get a hold of the raging torrent inside me. Far too soon, the door creaked, and footsteps approached. A hand touched my wrist, and I looked up.

"It's alright, I heard you." Cole was kneeling by my side, his eyes filled with sadness. He waited patiently as I took a breath, silencing my tears. I couldn't wallow here all night. Finally I was able to stand again, and he rose with me. Together we walked back to the ramparts, and stopped above the courtyard. I leant against the stones, letting the cold numb the moisture on my cheeks.

"You have been in terrible pain since Adamant," Cole spoke, his gaze searching. "It burns in you like a poisoned thorn, a wound old and forgotten, yet it runs deep as the ocean. I wish you had called me sooner."

I couldn't meet his eyes, too ashamed. "Can…Can you help me?"

"I will try," Cole said.

He faced me, his stare piercing. I stood my ground, holding back the tremors that still threatened to take over. He raised his hand towards my forehead, and his eyes turned blank, seeing beyond. I steeled myself, waiting for the moment of relief, when I would at last be free of this nightmare. But the seconds turned to minutes, and nothing happened.

Abruptly Cole's eyes snapped open, and he frowned.

"I…I can't free it," he whispered.

I stared at him. "What?"

"I can't remove it," Cole said. "It's impossible."

"What do you mean it's impossible?!" I spluttered, my temper overcoming my despair. "I've seen you do it for so many others, it's the reason for your existence!"

"I said I can't," Cole repeated. "I see many lights gathered in you, dazzling and brilliant, flashes of hope and sorrow dancing to untamed music. But they are chained together like a fisherman's lines, fragile and intertwined. I can't snap them all for the sake of one."

"You're lying!" I grabbed his collar. "Can't you see what it's doing to me? I can't live like this again! You have to erase it!"

"I want to. I know how much it hurts. But…" Cole reached up, and he grasped my left wrist. "Like a ship in a violent storm, no matter how the winds howl and froth, not even the heavens themselves can snap a tether anchored so deeply."

My eyes widened, and I stared at the mark on my hand. This couldn't be…my Anchor? This accursed brand was tying Kianna's memory to me?

"It's not just your mark," Cole went on. "It provides the grounding force, but not the tether itself. The memory is too much a part of you now, like a cut in the midst of healing. It has been left too long. If I try to take it away, it will reopen, and it may tear other memories with it."

"But…" My voice quivered. "You…you have to…you don't understand…"

"Inquisitor, what is the meaning of this?!"

Solas's voice roared through the parapets, and I released Cole at once. The boy didn't seem much distressed, but Solas's eyes were aflame as he stormed between us. He cast a dark glare over me, before he turned to Cole. "Are you alright, my friend? Did she hurt you?"

"No, it is I who've hurt her more," Cole answered. "I've failed her. Forgive me."

He pulled his hat closer and slipped away. Solas blinked, staring after him, before he looked at me. I didn't make eye contact.

"Inquisitor, what has become of you?" His tone was gentler. "You sought Cole, you asked him to use his power…" He reached for my hand, but I withdrew. "What did you want to forget?"

"None of your business," I said coldly.

I didn't wait for a response and left for the stairs, meaning to return to the main keep. As I descended, I caught Cole in the courtyard. He had paused beside a woman, who was sitting alone and looking forlornly at a man in the infirmary. Cole observed them for a moment, before he strode forward. His hand brushed the woman's hair, and she blinked, as if awaking from a dream. In moments she stood up and walked straight over to the man. Her face was now animated, and they began to talk. Cole slid into the shadows and disappeared, as if he'd never been there.

I tore my eyes away, entering the keep and not stopping until I was in my quarters again. I slammed the door closed, before halting at the mirror at my bedside. My tears had returned, and they danced off the glass. The reflection filled me with sudden rage, and I smacked my fist into it. The mirror shattered, sending broken shards everywhere. Crimson coloured my knuckles, and I slumped to the floor, sobbing.

"Why for her?" I choked, cradling my hand to my chest. "Am I so worthless you couldn't do it for me?"