After criss-crossing Ferelden; assembling armies; fighting darkspawn, dragons, and every nightmare that saw fit to crawl through the Veil and into their lives, Alistair had somehow conceived the unshakeable certainty that Leah Amell simply could not die. He would die, their friends might die, but she would walk out of the conflagration that threatened their homeland and she would go on to help reunite and rebuild the nation.
She was that exceptional.
What she would not do, he had always believed, was die. He had made that a tenet of faith more real than anything he had ever learned in the Chantry.
He watched the flames lick along the pyre and told himself that he was very angry at her for making him feel stupid one final time.