The report had been filed and Cullen was feeling much better than he had been in a long time. Sometimes, there was a dull throb in his shoulder, despite the lack of a scar or wound.

Following the report, there had been a summoning from Cassandra and Josephine, who were bewildered at the idea of a secret templar order existing for so long. He need only to sway one person, for Josephine had not witnessed the work of a cleric as Cassandra had. However, the Pentaghast still had many questions to probe him with. The advisors had to consider whether or not trust could be put in the doctor, despite all she had already done. To both Cassandra and Cullen, actions spoke louder than words, but Josephine was wise to be wary. The doctor would have to further prove the intentions of her order, were that of an alliance.

Thus, the doctor was put on more of a watch than she had been when she reported under the guise of The Hunters. Cullen disagreed with the tactic, knowing that it might very well offend Leona if she discovered she was being watched from every corner, especially after all she had done for them.

Occasionally, he found himself daydreaming from time to time, which was very strange. Cullen had always been a man of action and focus, he never had time or reason to entertain idle fantasies. Now it was as if he were waiting for a countdown to finish, so that he could go on the trip to his foe, that had grievously wounded him. But was it the foe which he wanted to face or the mysterious companion he wished to accompany there?

Rumors spread like wildfire across Skyhold of the recovering afflicted. They were beginning to put the doctor on a pedestal for accomplishing the impossible, just as they had with Mayella. Perhaps the fact that she was an average person, for all they knew, was what drew them to her. Mayella had the anchor, a piece of magic that gave her the powers she used to save them. Leona used only her own skill.

Cullen was sent for in the morning to meet Leona by the stables.

On his way down he noted the weather was nice for a change. Everytime he went somewhere it had to snow or appear gloomy.

The sun was smiling down upon them, though the air was still a bit chill due to their altitude in the mountains.

Leona was waiting for him, her hair pinned up and her attire unlike any she had worn since arriving. It was actually the first time she wore sn outfit less formal and a bit more Ferelden in fashion; leather trousers, a cotton blouse underneath a leather doublet, and a navy blue cloak.

"Nice of you to finally show up," the woman remarked smartly. "I've been here since dawn and tacted your horse for you."

"Dawn?" Cullen muttered. "I wasn't informed until now, obviously you didn't try hard enough to get me here."

"It took me a while to flag someone down, I didn't want to leave the horses. Most people just stare and don't answer me, like I'm a ghost or an apparition," she scowled, putting one foot in the stirrup of her enormous horse's saddle. She swung herself up and over and glanced down at Cullen with amused disdain. "Come on then, unless you're still not well enough."

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Cullen grumbled as he gamboled onto his own steed, finding himself at a much lower position than Leona due to her mount's size. "I never took you for an impatient person."

"I'm not impatient, I just like things to go according to how I schedule them."

"That sounds like something an impatient person would say," he teased.

They exited Skyhold without being harried, the wind gently blowing by them as they left the safety of the walls behind.

Cullen's mind teetered between two topics. The dark creature they rode to face and the secret order the doctor belonged to.

"You know…" Leona drawled, breaking his muddled thoughts. "It occurs to me that we don't really know much about each other. Or what happened in between the years we parted ways."

"No we don't," Cullen agreed.

"Well, since we have the time, no harm in telling then?" she offered.

It was going to be a few hours before they arrived at the site and even then, they still had hours before dusk. He didn't see the harm in sharing his own past, despite the terror he had faced in the Ferelden Circle of Magi. On the other hand, he was extremely curious about the life Leona had led after he had gone.

"Ladies first, then," he prompted.

Leona sat back in her saddle, chewing on her thoughts, contemplating where to begin. "Well, after you left Honnleath, nothing much really happened. Perhaps some months after, a traveler came through. His name was Doctor Whitebeard and he had the most immaculately groomed beard I'd ever seen. Honestly, I thought he'd made up his name to match his pride, his beard," she grinned, her eyes cast slightly up as she recalled her memories. "He helped old Whitney McDougal with that blasted cold he'd always had. Told him he was allergic to pollen and taught him how to make medicine that would clear up his sinuses."

Cullen recalled Whitney, an older man who always had a leaky nose and cleared flem from his throat every few seconds. He had been one of the horse masters, but few liked to speak to him due to his speech sounding wet, mucus rumbling in his chest. He hadn't the money to employ a mage about a small hinderance that he had lived with most of his life.

"When I saw that, I got so excited. I wondered 'how did he do that? It's not magic and he helped Whitney for little more than a copper!' So I asked him and he told me that a lot of people have allergies, some more severe than others. I didn't really understand what he was talking about, all the technical terms he was spitting out at me… and because I didn't know, I wanted to learn more. I'd spent so much time with my nose in books and yet, I'd never heard of any of this. I suppose that's one of my downfalls, I'd try to learn everything in the world if I had the time.

"So I begged my Pa to let me go with him, to learn under this stranger. But of course, no Pa with any sense in his brain would let his young daughter go off with some foreign man. He told me, 'The only way I'd let you go with this stranger is if the Maker himself struck ol' Bess down with lightning'. Ol'Bess was our milk cow that had long since gone dry. She had become more of a companion, my father hadn't the heart to put her down for meat.

"And I swear, hand to the Maker, no later than five minutes later was Ol'Bess struck down with lightning."

Cullen forced a frown. "You can't be serious."

Leona's eyes were bright with mischief. "Why not? Too far fetched?"

"You'll have me believe that the Maker, himself, struck down Ol'Bess so that you would go down this path?"

"Did I not heal you with words from the Maker?" she implored.

"Yes, but-"

"I'm just kidding, you caught me. Actually, my father already knew Whitebeard from his years in the military," Leona said, grinning. "Whitebeard had been a medic and my father one of the smithies."

Cullen felt heat in his cheeks, almost having believed her for a moment.

"I thought the whole 'chosen by the Maker for this path' sort of story would be more intriguing, but you're too clever to fool," she jested.

"I know someone who also likes to embezzle stories with half-truths," Cullen muttered, his mind slipping toward Varric for a brief moment.

"Anyways," Leona continued with a huge, stupid smile on her face, "They were old war buddies, back from when Ferelden was just a small resistance force trying to root Orlais out. They had been in the center of the war since the beginning of its conception and helped bring Maric Theirin to his rightful place on the throne.

"And my father knew of my studies, he was the one who had always indulged me and bought me books. When I made the request, he spoke with Whitebeard on my behalf and came to an agreement to have be study as his pupil. The only terms he had were that we returned to Honnleath every few months to check in with him.

"The doctor and I began traveling across Thedas. Much of my beginning years was spent in books, being tested, and simply observing the doctor. I was an onlooker, never to intercede or give my opinion. After three years, he finally allowed me to help with trivial matters such as stitches and remedying simple colds or other symptoms. I recall being so excited everytime we met someone who had a simple ailment, because I got to make the diagnosis.

"I returned to Honnleath periodically. I must have been 15 when the doctor and I bumped into the Order. It was by chance, one member had fallen grievously ill and refused to be tended to by a mage. Doctor Whitebeard was in the area and summoned to do what he could. I wasn't allowed in the room, it had happened before with nobles, so I hadn't thought much of it.

"The place was sort of dingy, strange scrawlings on parchment hung on the walls. I became so bored, that I started to read them. It was a language I hadn't seen before. I'd learned to read many texts, in varying languages, especially Tevinter, since most texts are from there. But this was something I'd never seen. And despite never seeing it before, I could read it.

"I read it aloud and someone had been nearby. I didn't realize it was a scripture written by one of the first Order members, resembling somewhat of an oath. It was in the tongue of the Maker, but despite speaking a tongue I'd never seen, I could comprehend its translation as easily as I can Common.

"The paladin who overheard me escorted me into a dungeon-like room. I recall thinking I was in trouble for reading something I shouldn't have. Eventually Whitebeard joined me, but rather than looking upset, he gave me a look of utter disbelief, a look of awe and fear. I'd never known him to be a man to crack around the seams, to show much more emotion other than collectedness.

"A few members of the Order came to speak with us and asked me if I knew the meaning of the words I spoke aloud. I was terrified at that point and I told them I didn't, because I wanted to leave. Of course, they didn't believe me and explained to me who they were. I wasn't going to be allowed to just leave and continue my life as it had been with Whitebeard. As of that day, both Whitebeard and I became inducted into the Order. It was either join or die for Whitebeard, for they couldn't allow him to leave after what he had just heard.

"At first, I was scared of the Order. I didn't really understand what any of it meant and why they had ceded from the Templar Order in the first place. I wasn't aware of the lyrium addictions and trade that was deeply rooted in the Chantry. I'd come to find out later, when treating it, but Whitebeard had sheltered me from the depths of the Chantry's political trenches. We were forced to remain in their keep for a time while the Order insisted on my training. Whitebeard continued my studies within the confines of stone walls.

"For a while, I cursed myself for reading something I shouldn't have. I believed it was all my fault and I worried that my father would come looking for us.

"Eventually, a cleric by the name of Adelaide came to me and started teaching me Chantry rhetoric. I found it a bit dry, no offense, but I was still too fearful to not learn it. Following that, the Order insisted that I begin training to fight. They placed a sword in my hand and prepared a time of day for me to meet with a paladin who saw to it that I learned its ways. They shared little information with me and soon, the halls of the Order became my boarding school.

"When I turned 18, I was summoned and tested by a panel, on which Whitebeard now sat. I hadn't known, but Whitebeard had become trusted by the Order. I had been left in the dark until becoming an adult. I knew at this point, what the Order was and that I was chosen as a cleric. My place in the world was muddled and I was confused as to what we would be doing. Our mission was revealed to me, to protect Thedas from a threat beyond it.

"Our people had discovered Eluvians that connected to portals far beyond Thedas. It was there, that our Order was fighting beasts unlike any of those found at home. We were fearful that, because we possessed portals, there might be more that could act as paths for these monsters to come through.

"Due to the Chantry being so powerful and the Templar Order still existing, we could not step from out of the shadows. Instead, we kept to ourselves and I went back and forth between the lands beyond and traveling Thedas. The Blight proved to be our first problem.

"I was forced to travel more in Orlais or Tevinter, away from the taint. My powers were considerably weakened in Ferelden, which would soon continue its reach to everywhere in Thedas. I cannot say if the power of the Old Gods has some sort of countenance to our powers, but it hasn't been the same in the following years.

"I spent a lot of time in the poorer, rural parts of Orlais until the end of Ferelden's 5th Blight. I then returned through the Eluvians to a realm that had become even more stirred than before. I always wondered if there was a link with the Old Gods again, but there's not solid proof, only theories. Before the Breach, I had been researching darkspawn and Grey Wardens, I became interested in the taint and I was trying to see if there was something I could do about the premature deaths of Grey Wardens."

"Did the Grey Wardens know about you?" Cullen interjected.

"Yes and no. They knew of us, we swapped research, but they did not really know what we were. Their assumptions were mainly around us being some sort of reclusive cult that funded research into old codexes and magic. I suppose sort of like Maker freaks, but we had our uses," she chuckled.

"Continuing… Where was I-"

"The Breach?"

"Ah yes, the Breach. When the Breach came, we nearly revealed ourselves and offered a hand. It seemed that the breach opening would be perfect timing, along with the rift between the Templar Order and Chantry. We hoped to pull the Templar Order onto our side and restore it to the glory our Order's creators had always wanted. However, the moment the Inquisitor was named Herald… that put all operations to a skidding halt. An uproar of disagreement broke out between our Order, nearly fracturing it. Many of us, including myself, believed that we were needed, despite one of our own not being chosen. On the other hand, many of our superiors were vexed that the Maker would choose someone outside the Order and refused to help. We did what we could, stopping destructive apostates and abominations, but our hands were tied.

"The shattered pride of our leaders nearly cost all of Thedas, but from the words of one of the paladins 'If the Maker has chosen a stranger, then it is up to the stranger to restore Thedas. Our assistance is not needed or He would have chosen us.' Of course, that's irritating to hear when everything was going on, but in the end, the Inquisition and Herald did it and now the words come back to bite me in the ass. The Maker had reserved our forces for another time. Now."

"They kept you locked up in their keep for 3 years before telling you why you were there?" Cullen asked, a handful of questions popping in his head once she had finished.

"Again, yes and no, they weren't unkind to me, but there were topics I was not ready for. I came to understand my place as a cleric not too long after I began studying there. For what purpose, I did not know until I became of age."

"Did you hate it there?"

"No, I did get to learn with some others my age. I think I was just confused and scared, at first; just as anyone who was inducted into a secret order unwillingly should be."

"What about your father? How was he after the Blight? I know those in Honnleath were forced to flee."

"He actually got out before the Blight. He was vexed they wouldn't allow communication, he had assumed the worst had become of Whitebeard and I. However, he later became one of the Order's Holy Smithies. He and a few other blacksmiths forge our blessed weapons."

"And then becoming a doctor…" he drawled.

"Whitebeard awarded me the title on my 21st name day. He believed I was well studied enough to do work without him."

"How does the ranking system of your Order work?"

This question made Leona pause. She had indulged him in her history and given the motives behind her cult, whether they be true or not. However, now he was asking a targeted question about their infrastructure. "I can say that it's very similar to the Templar Order, however, it is known that the paladins have more authority than the clerics. My own stance is seasoned, but I am more of a deployable field agent with a certain set of acquired skills. I'm the only doctor other than Whitebeard."

She deflected the question by bringing it around back to her own position. Cullen procured from her answer, that she was not in a position to decide what information she could freely indulge with him. At this point, he knew he couldn't ask much more about the inner workings of her organization until more developed from her superiors.

It was strange to think that such an outspoken and forthright woman was not in a position of leadership. Leona was groomed and tailored to be one, her training was evident of this. And yet, this division between paladins and clerics presented a glass ceiling that Leona could not pass.

"Have you ever wanted to be a leader?" he asked her finally.

Leona rolled her shoulders. "I suppose it is only natural for those of us with strong personalities to seek power over others. However, in some manners, my power comes not from position in ranking, but position in skills. A warrior leader can be replaced by another warrior just as strong. Only another doctor-cleric could fill mine and there aren't any," she replied coolly, sending a chill down Cullen's spine.

The impish doctor had again, revealed this calculating and impassive demeanor he had observed upon occasion. Just when he believed that she had revealed her true personality, the cold one surfaced from beneath.

Even if the Order had sought to escape the politics of the Chantry, it seemed that politics had developed within its own ranks. A blatant dislike for the paladins who governed the clerics became clearer to Cullen. It reminded him of the divide between templar and mage.

"Perhaps it is my turn then…" Cullen changed the subject as the silence perverted the air between them. Again, the hue of a dark maelstrom consumed her titanic eyes, which bore forward into the landscape.

Cullen began his autobiography to when he left Honnleath at the age of 13. Most of his other peers were recruits from a young age, creating doubt and worry that he would fall behind them. He dispelled this idea quickly and caught up to the other recruits. He spoke fondly of those years training with the other boys and eagerly took his vows as a templar, consummating the ritual with the taking of lyrium. The mere mention of the dreaded substance sending a shudder riveting through him.

His first station had been the Circle Tower in Kinloch Hold. The man gave a brief detail about it, trying not to recount the terrors that soon came with the Blight. When the Circle fell to blood magic, he only made the slightest mention that the Hero of Ferelden had come and rescued those who had been trapped inside, including himself. He was thankful that Leona didn't interrupt his story to ask what it had been like inside.

The story continued with him being sent across the sea to Kirkwall, where he earned his promotion to Knight-Captain. He recounted how much stricter it had been under Knight-Commander Meredith for both templars and mages alike. All of which came to a head when the apostate, Anders, blew up the Chantry. The brittle structure of the Circle crumbled, partially due to Meredith being driven mad by red lyrium she had laced in her weapon. Seeing no alternative path, the lead enchanter also turned to blood magic to try and save his people from being slaughtered. Cullen, was stuck between a rock and a hard place, forced to ally with the Champion to conduct a mutiny against Meredith.

He and the other templars worked to regain control of the fractured city. Upon seeing this feat, Cassandra recruited him to the Inquisition where he became the commander. He mentioned at a point that he had hated mages, but after the rebellion in Kirkwall, he couldn't help but sympathize with both factions. While his templar life did have its appeal in his youth, he quickly was thrust out of his comfort zone and into the rise and fall of the Chantry.

So much carnage had followed him wherever he went, including the Inquisition, his biggest challenge yet. Cullen had been saddled with the responsibility of an army that stood on pins and needles. In part, their work had not always been appreciated, but Thedas had been a mess. It wasn't to say that thanks to all his work that it was put together again, but he took some pride in knowing he had a hand in it.

He'd believed that he could retire to a piece of land in Ferelden, but the Inquisition still had work for him, thus he remained.

"Fun seems to follow you everywhere you go," Leona chirped sarcastically.

"Fun…" Cullen scoffed dryly, unable to think up a reply that sufficed, as he leaned forward on his saddle to stretch his back.

"How was your transition from being a templar?" she asked.

"Terrible," he said immediately. "I believed for a time, that I would need to be relieved of my post because of it."

"And yet, here you ride today, as a testament to the ghosts you've left behind," Leona declared.

The man blinked at her, he'd never thought of it as remarkable or strong. He'd cursed himself every night for being so weak and it took the helping hands of the Inquisitor and Cassandra to nurse him from his addiction. It had been a brutal weakness, one he hated with every fiber of his being. One that the Chantry saddled every templar with.

"I've seen many templars who cannot let it go and I've tried my hand at helping them, but…" she drawled off. "I cannot heal what is no longer there."

The reference to the madness that consumed templars after years of lyrium consumption, hung in the chilled air. The sun had disappeared behind a blanket of clouds and now their breaths hung in the air.

"We're drawing near," Cullen warned told her.

"Yes, I can feel it," she replied cryptically, running a gloved hand over her charger's neck.