"If I got rid of my demons, I'd lose my angels."
― Tennessee Williams
"Cole!" Evelyn called out.
He halted in his tracks, but did not turn around. She caught up to him and placed her hand on his shoulder.
"I do not envy you your conundrum, Cole," she said straightforwardly. "Are you even aware you have one?"
When she glimpsed his eyes, they appeared as sorrowful as she had ever seen them; she fervently wished at that moment there was something she could do to ease his suffering.
But that is it, isn't it? Easing the suffering. That's what it is all about. It is why he tore his way through the Fade. It is why he finds himself in this predicament now, a neither-nor being, walking in twilight.
What had it been like, witnessing so much pain in another being and attempting to remain indifferent?
Entities of the Fade had a flickering awareness of the tortuous twists and turns mortal lives took and often watched them unfold neutrally. Sometimes they became attracted to a more intense emotion for the novelty or the rush, for how exhilarating it could be, even if only for a moment. Extremes, as the warnings stated, were always dangerous territory, especially for mages: wrath, anger, lust, or pride…
She could tell he was picking up on her thoughts as he remained silent and pensive.
"It was what I always believed. Emotions are irrevocably linked to the human experience. We are the ones who traffic in them in our smallest interactions, who evoke and manipulate them through our actions and reactions. And all spirits could ever do was echo them—embodying them only when intense enough."
She brushed the back of her hand tenderly over his cheek.
"But how can I ever explain you? You contradict everything I've ever believed. When the boy known as Cole lay dying in darkness and pain, life fading from his body, there was no love whatsoever present in that dungeon. And yet, you still came forth. That was it, wasn't it? It was for love. So that in his greatest hour of need, he wouldn't die alone, forgotten, unloved. How can you reflect or embody what was never there to begin with? It was you and it was yours all along. You left the quiet certainty and peace of the Fade for this realm because you could not bear to merely stand aside and observe, because you could not tolerate the suffering you witnessed. That is more than most mortals would have done."
He watched her uncertainly, mulling her words.
"You honor the other Cole's memory by existing here, like this. But…" She took a deep breath. "You are not that young man. You cannot be who he was. You cannot live the life he would have lived. You must honor that, too. The other Cole died—his spirit passed. Your outrage and your wrath will serve no good purpose."
"What do you think I should do?" He hesitated, staring at the lush grounds beyond the path.
In the nearby distance, she spotted the man, peering out skittishly from between the low hanging tree branches to verify whether they had departed yet.
"You must choose the course of action that honors best who you are. I will stand by your side no matter what you decide," she told him earnestly. "But I want you to understand this…Knowing you has made me believe that there is little difference between spirits and humans. We are afflicted by the same weaknesses…and we aspire to attain the same ideals. I wonder, Cole, if the great gods of the past felt as lost as we sometimes feel, made mistakes and suffered their consequences… and I wonder whether—perhaps even hope— mere mortals can overcome great adversity and offer to each other in the here and now the guidance, kindness and comfort we so often expect to find in the divine."
"As above, so below…" Cole whispered.
Evelyn's eyes teared up. Yes.
"Wiser ones have said so since the dawn of time, haven't they?" she squeezed his shoulder affectionately.
Varric and Solas approached cautiously. Cole stared ahead.
We are at our best when we are helping others.
If the purpose of each life is to find meaning, then I have been going about it backwards. I had a clear purpose from the beginning. Somehow, it got lost…while living.
He glanced back at Evelyn. His mind was clearer than it had been in a long time. His resolve steered him, a needle in a compass. He began to follow the path, turning only to beckon to the friend whose help he needed at that moment.
Cullen reached the final page of Evelyn's report and was struck by momentary confusion. He flipped the page back and forth, wondering if he had misplaced something—perhaps a page slipped out of order. He finally sat up in the bed, casting a quizzical look in her direction as she sat behind her desk, signing off on requisitions.
"I believe you are missing a page," he stated.
She peered up from her desk, quill securely in hand.
"No…I never finished it."
Cullen looked down at the report irritably.
"You can't just leave it like that. What happened to Cole?"
"He made a difficult choice," she disclosed, plunking the quill back into its silver holder. She rose, brushing her nightdress down with her hands, and made her way to the bed, slipping beneath the covers, close to his warm body.
Cullen watched her bewilderedly as she settled her head on his shoulder, even as the unfinished report still dangled from his hand.
"You aren't going to tell me?"
She pressed her lips together.
"Come— what did he choose?" he pleaded.
"He chose…What he believed was the best choice."
Cullen dropped his arms over the covers.
"This is a most terrible report, you are a very bad person, and no one appreciates having their patience tried with a cliffhanger!" he protested.
She grinned, running her fingertips over his naked chest.
"I thought you said I was better at hurling myself off cliffs, not hanging from them," she stated with coy innocence.
"You're really not going to tell me?" he asked in disbelief, feeling her huddle closer to him.
"I will," she said appeasingly. He glanced at her expectantly. "Tomorrow…" she decided as he groaned defeatedly. "There are things I still need to verify and follow up on before I can write about them properly."