The morning sun was just creeping over the mountains, glinting off the swords and shields of the trainees outside Haven. The blonde man in charge of their training strode confidently amidst the sparring, tossing out occasional instructions and encouragement. Cullen turned back towards the town and was surprised to catch sight of her white hair atop the ramparts. Reports said the Herald and her party had returned very late last night from their latest venture into the Hinterlands. It was strange that she would be up so early.
It wasn't strange to see her up on the ramparts though. Faydren had taken to standing in that spot quite regularly, and often Cullen would catch her watching the training intently. If she noticed him looking back, her eyes would quickly move elsewhere. At first it was unnerving to have her up there all the time with that piercing gaze. Now, however, he was keenly aware of the empty ramparts any time she was away from Haven. Tossing out a few more pointers as he went, the Commander made his way toward the gate.
She didn't turn as he walked up the stairs and came to a stop next to her. Faydren's steely eyes were distant, as though she were staring somewhere far beyond the Frostback mountains. Not sure how to avoid startling her, Cullen cleared his throat gently. The mage's eyes cleared and she blinked a few times before her gaze met his.
"Oh, hello Commander."
"Good morning," he suddenly realized that he hadn't had a reason to go up there. Thankfully, she saved him from needing to make one up.
"Have you all decided on a course of action yet?"
"No... There are still many risks being pointed out on both sides. We can't seem to come to an agreement," he sighed.
"I see," she nodded slowly. "What would be your choice?"
"I stand by my claim that the Templars would be a far safer bet, and perfectly capable. I don't trust the mages to-" he stopped as a flash of hurt sparked in her eyes. "That didn't come out right. The mages are desperate right now, and I worry they might do something reckless. The Templars act out of duty, and should remember that when the time comes."
Faydren was once more looking out across the landscape. Unable to tell if she was upset or just thinking, Cullen simply stood quietly at her side. Eventually he brought up another topic that had been nagging at the back of his mind.
"Herald," he began, lowering his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. "About what you said before... You said I 'acted' like a Templar."
"Yes," she eyed him curiously before realization dawned. "Ah, you're concerned how I meant it."
"The thought has crossed my mind," he looked up to find the same expression in her eyes he'd seen the first time – something that almost looked like amusement.
"I have known many Templars in my life, Commander. I'm comfortable saying that you rank among the good ones," her gaze softened. "Even without being part of the Order anymore, you are what a Templar is supposed to be."
Cullen was speechless. In all honesty, that response was not remotely what he expected. Though to be fair, he wasn't sure what to expect. So far this woman had surprised him at every turn. As he searched helplessly for words, Faydren suddenly looked sad and extremely tired. Moving past him slowly, she apologized.
"Perhaps I should have allowed myself to sleep a while longer..."
"Of course. Rest well," he managed to get out.
Cullen watched until she went out of view before he headed back to the trainees.
'Allowed myself to sleep longer…' Faydren thought bitterly. She hadn't slept at all. Her body was exhausted, her mind was exhausted, but sleep hadn't come easily since the whole mess started. It explained why she hadn't even noticed Cullen come up to her. Had he wanted something? She didn't remember asking.
His comment about not trusting mages hurt more than she would have thought. It wasn't targeted at her, and Faydren knew that. But the fact remained that she was a mage. It was difficult having to prove yourself to everyone you met. Worse, it was impossible to tell if they ever truly trusted you. Being reminded of this by someone she'd grown to respect only stung that much more.
The Commander was a good man and a good Templar. She'd had enough experience with both to know. There was a pang of sorrow in her heart and she pulled Darius' pendant out, holding it gently. He would have liked Cullen. Would he be proud of her? Was she doing the right thing? Maybe if Darius were here, she wouldn't be so afraid. But he wasn't. Faydren slid the pendant back down her shirt.
The large bruise on her left thigh ached. It wasn't anything serious, but getting tossed against a tree did in fact leave a mark. Bull needed to work on his aim. The mage still felt beyond guilty that he had taken the arrow meant for her, even though it turned out to be a minor injury. It seemed like everyone got hurt because of her. They didn't mind, but she did.
Approaching the door to her quarters, Faydren saw Josephine standing there patiently. The Antivan woman didn't seem to go anywhere without her writing board and all manner of papers. Her lips curved into a smile as she saw the Herald.
"Ah, Lady Trevelyan!" Faydren internally rolled her eyes at the title.
"Yes, Ambassador?"
"We've received word from your family," Josie paused as Faydren noticeably stiffened. "They are interested in offering assistance to the Inquisition-"
"Ha!" The laugh was harsh and mirthless. "Of course they are. Now that their daughter is the 'Herald of Andraste' and not just some mage."
"I take it you are not on the best of terms?"
"More like no terms at all," she spat. "I'm surprised they even chose to acknowledge my existence."
"Would you like me to reject their assistance then?" Josephine asked the question sincerely.
"I- No." Faydren was surprised by the offer and it cooled her temper. "We need all the help we can get, right? Do what you want with them…"
"As you wish, Herald. I'll make sure you are not involved in this any further," Josephine said gently and inclined her head.
"I'd appreciate that," Faydren replied quietly. "Thank you, Josephine."
Rather than entering her quarters to attempt sleep like she'd planned, Faydren turned on her heel and headed for the tavern. She'd never been drunk before, but now sounded like as good a time as any.
Varric woke up to vigorous shaking and a familiar voice blaring in his ear.
"VARRIIIIC! Oi, dwarf! Wake up!"
"Andraste's ass, Buttercup, what is it? Do you even know what time I went to sleep?" His response was gruff but not unpleasant.
"No idea! I figured if the Herald was up already, it couldn't be that bad," Sera grinned at him with zero pity.
"Wait, Stormcloud is awake?" Varric had the sneaking suspicion that meant she had never gone to sleep.
"Not for long at the rate she's going," Sera cackled.
"What do you mean?" The rogue was suddenly glad he hadn't completely undressed last night. He shrugged on a shirt and boots.
"Our fearless leader is completely sloshed!"
"Uh oh. What did you do, Buttercup?"
"It wasn't me, I swear! She was like that when I got there!" The cheery elf made for the tavern with Varric following close behind.
The tavern door swung open as the mismatched archer pair stepped in. It was still early enough that the place was completely empty aside from the barkeeper and the bard. Both nodded at Varric genially. He returned the gesture before spotting his target and frowning as he moved over to her.
Faydren was slumped over the table, but her eyes were only half closed. Both hands were clasped around a large, empty tankard. Dust-coated clothes and bloodshot eyes confirmed his theory – she never went to bed. He sighed and sat down across from her. Her focus moved to him blearily.
"Hi Varric," the greeting was followed by a slight hiccup.
"Hey, Stormcloud," his voice was gentle. "Anything you wanna talk about?"
Faydren shook her head mournfully.
"How about we get you back to your room then?" Varric was hoping the alcohol might put her to sleep.
Faydren appeared to consider for a moment before nodding slowly and lurching to her feet. Varric hopped up and quickly reached out to steady her. It was pretty obvious that she wasn't a big drinker, though he had already assumed that. Even with him supporting her on one side, the mage could barely remain standing.
"Hey Buttercup, mind giving us a hand here?"
"Aw, I was looking forward to watching! But alright," Sera moved under Faydren's other arm and the three of them shuffled out.
Varric was thankful that they didn't run into anyone on the way to her room. People were all still sleeping or off taking care of other business. They managed to get through the door sideways and set Faydren down on the bed. Sera stood back and watched in amusement as Varric removed their charge's boots and jacket. He wasn't comfortable fully undressing her, so he simply helped her lie down like that. Adjusting the blankets so that she'd be warm enough, he rested a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Faydren's eyes were closed now and he barely heard the mumbled words.
"Don't worry about it," he smiled and left quietly, snagging Sera on his way out.
"Why don't you keep this one to yourself, Buttercup," Varric requested of the trickster.
"Wot, really? But this is sooo good! I could hold it over her for a week at least!"
The dwarf gave her a level gaze.
"Oh fine, ya fuddy-dud. My lips are sealed. But if this happens again, I get to have some fun with it!" Sera sauntered off back to the tavern.
Varric chuckled and shook his head, meandering back to his own room. If Sera had really wanted to have fun with it, she wouldn't have come to get his help first. It seemed even she had a soft spot for their Herald. Taking off the shirt and boots, he crawled under the covers once more. Hopefully Faydren would get some sleep now… The girl was plenty exhausted from the trip. Add an all-nighter and some alcohol on top of that? She'd have to be a golem not to pass out. Eyes closed, he grinned. It was nice to see the walls down every once in a while though.
"Sweet dreams, Stormcloud."
It was a couple of days before Faydren once again met with the War Council. All preparations were complete, and now the time had come to make a choice. First, Leliana gave a review of what had come from the Herald's last trip to the Hinterlands.
"The refugees are thrilled with our work, as are the soldiers stationed to assist them. We have provided blankets, food, and extra healers; driven out the mages and Templars; killed a demon possessing wolves; and set up watchtowers to assist on the roads. Some of the more skilled refugees have pledged their service," she paused.
"The Herald was able to find Grey Warden Blackwall. He did not have any information regarding the disappearance of other Wardens, however he has agreed to stay and assist the Inquisition. Lastly, it appears that the rebel mages have taken over Redcliffe and cast out Arl Teagan. It is currently unclear what their motivations are."
With that, the discussion began in earnest once more. Cassandra and Cullen vehemently pushed for Templars while Leliana and Josephine still believed the mages were salvageable. Their voices and ideals clashed in the small room like a discordant symphony. Faydren remained quiet, listening intently before finally deciding to speak.
"I think we should talk to the Templars."
The room went completely silent as the full council looked at her in surprise. Her words had been quiet but firm. They were not used to hearing her speak an opinion. Eyes serious and jaw set, it was clear she intended to stand by her declaration.
"The mages have shown themselves to be untrustworthy. We can try to talk sense to them once the Breach is no longer a threat," she managed to keep the pain from her voice.
"That breaks the deadlock. It seems we shall be approaching the Templars then," Josephine scribbled something on her board.
"According to our sources, they are currently holding at Therinfal Redoubt," Leliana's hand circled a spot on the map.
"Therinfal? What would have taken them there?" Cassandra asked no one in particular.
Now that a decision was made, the four worked together seamlessly to arrange for the mission's success. It was intriguing to see, and Faydren quite enjoyed watching them. More often than not, her eyes would be drawn to wavy blonde hair and a small scar above the lip… It didn't take long for the plans to get hammered out, and everyone seemed pleased to be making progress finally.
"It will take some time to make the preparations, Herald. We'll let you know when everything is ready," Cullen opened the door and motioned for the ladies to exit first.
"Always the gentleman," Leliana teased as she passed him.
A hint of red touched his cheeks. Josephine tried to hide a giggle when she exited as well. Cassandra strode out as though it was perfectly normal, leaving only Faydren's turn to leave. She paused just in front of Cullen and looked up at his face. The poor man's eyes were still averted in embarrassment. Faydren smiled despite herself, quickly moving past to hide it.
"Thank you, Commander," was spoken over her shoulder.
Faydren cringed as they approached the throng of Orlesian nobles. This part of the plan she did not like. The 'privileged' grated on her nerves like nothing else. This was going to be stressful enough without having to worry about their delicate sentiments. One such noble immediately stepped up on her arrival and introduce himself as Lord Esmeral Abernache. It was a struggle to avoid rolling her eyes or punching him as he spoke to her with an overabundance of arrogance. Finally he seemed ready to move on.
"Care to mark the moment? Ten Orlesian houses walk with you."
"No speeches," she said flatly. "Just get me the chance to ask the Templars to help close the breach."
"Ceremony has value, 'Herald'," he sniffed imperiously. "Speaking of which, I don't suppose you'd divulge what finally got their attention? Rumor will if you won't."
"What do you mean?" Faydren was genuinely confused.
They were walking now and made their way slowly up to the portcullis of Therinfal Redoubt. Abernache was convince that she had done something to gain the Lord Seeker's interest since he refused to meet until she was there. The mage assured him it was not her doing, and they agreed it was perhaps some work of the diplomats.
They approached a dark-skinned Templar who appeared to be sent to greet them. A crier introduced him as Ser Delrin Barris. Titles everywhere... The crier then began to introduce Lord Abernache, but Barris simply pushed past upon seeing Faydren. It was then that she recalled him as one of the Templars who left Val Royeaux – albeit reluctantly.
"I'm the one who sent word to Cullen. He said the Inquisition works to close this Breach in the Veil," he paused. "I didn't think you'd bring such lofty company."
This of course prompted some snide remarks on status from Abernache, who was clearly miffed at being passed over so swiftly. Barris ignored it and continued.
"This... promise of status has garnered the interest of the Lord Seeker. Beyond sense. The sky burns with magic, but he ignores all calls to action until your friends arrive."
"Will the Templars stand with the Inquisition against the Breach?" Faydren was hopeful at this point.
"Only if we're allowed to leave and uphold our pledge," he sighed and stepped closer, lowering his voice. "The Lord Seeker's actions make no sense. He promised to restore the Order's honor, then marched us here to wait? Templars should know their duty, even when held from it."
"How refreshing, to meet a Templar who remembers his charge," the bitterness was obvious in Solas' voice. Faydren gave him a look.
"Win over the Lord Seeker, and every able-bodied knight will help the Inquisition seal the Breach," Barris spoke with passion. He truly wanted her to succeed.
"If you think we're right, abandon the Lord Seeker and help us," Faydren spoke forcefully. If she could just get the knights...
"We can't abandon our orders. Not while the officers who survived the Conclave follow him," the disappointment in his voice was clear. "We've been asked to accept much, after that shameful display in Val Royeaux. Our truth changes on the hour."
At this point, Abernache interrupted with yet another rude comment and Faydren had to remind herself not to punch him despite how much he deserved it. Maybe after they recruited the Templars... Ser Barris shot the man a look but didn't respond (to his credit) and walked inside the gate.
They followed as he led them to a pulley system sporting three flags representing The People, The Maker, and The Order. Apparently the Lord Seeker wanted her to raise them in order of how she valued them. Abernache complained about the delay, but it didn't take long to make her decision.
Faydren raised the flag of The People – because in the end that was all she truly cared about; The Maker – because why would you rank The Order above that which it served; and The Order remained last.
"Traditionally, a participant in the rite now explains their choices to those assembled.," Barris held a military posture while he spoke.
"Those are my choices. The rest is my own affair," she didn't see how it was any of their business.
By this point, Faydren was certain that Abernache's entire existence revolved around being a complete ass. He complained about her choice while also throwing in a nice insult for the Templars. Then the fool began talking about his plans to bring the Order to heel. She felt her hand ball into a fist, but Varric nudged her. Iron Bull was trying not to smile too big as he watched her frustration. He was probably hoping she'd lay the man out.
Finally they were shown into a room with a desk in the center – likely some sort of office – to wait for the Lord Seeker's presence. Faydren stood quietly with her arms crossed as Barris and Abernache continued to argue across the desk. Their discussion was interrupted by the sudden entry of more Templars from the other room. Ser Barris stopped mid-sentence.
"...Knight-Captain?" Clearly this was not the plan.
"You were expecting the Lord Seeker. He sent me to die for you."
The man's voice had a cruel edge to it. Barris and Faydren exchanged an uncomfortable glance. The primping noble didn't seem to mind at all and immediately began trying to butter him up with praise and ego-stroking. The Knight-Captain laughed harshly, clearly unimpressed and telling them as much.
"Lord Abernache, it might be wise to give the Knight-Captain some distance," Faydren could feel it… the corruption seeping into the room. She had no love for the noble, but that didn't mean he should die.
"You're a silver tongue. I won't let you claim the knight and his captain."
She could feel the glow of building power in her eyes as they scanned the room's newcomers. The men didn't look right. They didn't feel right. Energy began to crackle around her. The Knight-Captain was yelling now. That fool Abernache was going to get himself hurt.
"You were all supposed to be changed! Now we must purge the questioning knights!"
Arrows started flying. Lord Abernache's head snapped back and he flopped to the floor, a shaft impaled through his mask. All around Faydren, the knights that were escorting them fell. Ser Barris raised his shield to block what he could and Solas cast a barrier. Iron Bull pushed in front of her while Varric readied Bianca. In seconds, the five of them were the only ones left standing. She looked at the carnage surrounding their little group and had a flashback to that day at the Circle.
"How dare you," her voice was ice.
Now she was pissed. Shoving past Bull, she slammed her staff blade down and lightning erupted across the room. The corrupted Templars had some resistance to magic, but the shock was enough to create an opening. Iron Bull and Ser Barris closed the gap to the archers and put them on the defensive. Varric loosed bolt after bolt as good shots became available. Flames from Solas engulfed the outliers and they screamed in panic and agony.
Faydren kept her eyes locked on the Knight-Captain, focusing her energy into a single large bolt as he attempted to charge. With a resounding krak he stopped a mere foot away, paralyzed by the power surging through his body and armor. After a couple of seconds, he slumped to the ground. Though they had won this fight, the screams and shouts echoing just past the doorway said there was more to come.
"I'm surprised you didn't kill him outright," Solas commented from the side.
"I'm almost disappointed that I didn't," the cold reply got a concerned look from Varric.
They pressed on. Around every corner and through every door, they were met with more death and more fighting. Faydren kept her focus, crushing down the feelings building in her chest. They found the Knight-Vigilant's rotting corpse and discovered that the Templar leaders had been corrupting the Order with red lyrium knowingly for a while now. She mentally cursed the pride of foolish men.
Come to me, Herald of Andraste.
"Whose voice was that?" Faydren stopped and looked around.
"I didn't hear anything, Boss," Iron Bull looked at her curiously.
Show me what you are. Let me know you, the voice seemed to echo throughout her entire being. What was going on?
Walking up the stairs to the Great Hall, they spotted a figure standing before the doors. It looked like Lord Seeker Lucius, but his back was turned. He did not appear to be waiting for a fight. After a heated gesture conversation with her companions, Faydren approached slowly on her own. Before she could speak, the Lord Seeker whirled around and grabbed her arms in a vice-like grip. The sizable shock he got didn't seem to faze him as he dragged her toward the doors.
"At last," he said with a dark smile.
Faydren's vision flashed white.
As her eyes refocused, Faydren found herself standing in a dark pillared hallway. Everything was hazy – it felt almost like the Fade, but she knew it wasn't. Burning corpses like those at the Temple stood like statues all around. The wall behind her was solid, leaving forward as the only direction to go. Bracing herself, Faydren started walking.
In one moment, it felt like she'd walked a great distance, but also gone nowhere at all. The mage was startled as she suddenly came face to face with Cullen and Josephine. But at the same time it wasn't them. The two stared at her with hollow eyes. A loud gasp caused her to jump back as Leliana came into view.
"Is this shape useful?"
"Will it let me know you?"
"Everything tells me about you."
"So will this: Watch," the Leliana pressed her body to Cullen's back, placing a blade gently against his neck.
"No!"
Faydren's body reacted involuntarily, hand shooting forward as her chest tightened and her mouth went dry. But no magic came to her aid. Whatever this was, the Fade was beyond her reach. Leliana's lips curved into a cruel smile.
"Stop this, demon," Faydren tried to keep her voice from trembling. This wasn't real. That wasn't Cullen.
"Stop this, demon," her own voice bounced back from Leliana's lips.
"Mmmm."
Faydren watched helplessly as the blade sliced across Cullen's neck - a spray of blackish red staining his face and armor as he slid to the ground. She blinked and they all vanished. Josephine's voice taunted her from the shadows, the demon manifesting in various places to disorient her. It wanted to be her. It would take her place just as it had the Lord Seeker's.
"I am Envy, and I will know you!" Cullen's voice snarled. "Tell me, 'Herald', in your mind. Tell me what you think!"
Faydren turned to see him stabbing a shadow of herself. There was pure hate in eyes where she used to see warmth. Her shadow reached out to him pitifully, but he ignored it. The mage could almost feel the blade entering her back. Then the war table appeared, its map markers flaming as he stood across from her.
"Tell me what you feel!"
Faydren spun toward a strangled cry from behind and saw herself, bleeding and reaching out. A blade appeared in her own hand and she dropped it like it was burning. Tears filled her eyes but she fought them back. She would not let it best her. This wasn't real. They were all waiting for her to get back. She shut her eyes and pictured Varric and Iron Bull grinning; Solas and Vivienne debating; Cassandra sparring with Blackwall; Sera pranking Maryden; Josephine and Leliana gossiping. And Cullen…
"Tell me what you see."
"End this pathetic nightmare, or fight me if you can!" Faydren shouted.
The demon cackled and opened the far wall's door with a flash. It seemed the only way was forward... so she went.
All she wanted was to leave, but everywhere she turned the demon was taunting her – showing her what the Inquisition would be once it was in charge. Tyranny, death, destruction... it was nightmarish. Panic rose in her heart – what if she couldn't get out? What if it succeeded?
A new voice echoed through the haze.
"What happens to the hammer when there are no more nails?"
"What are you? Get out! This is my place!"
There was no response. Faydren walked through a door into what appeared to be a bedroom. She heard the door shut behind her, but there was no one else in the room. There was also no other way out, so she opened the door again to leave.
"Wait," the second voice spoke again. It seemed soft... kind. Faydren turned back to the empty room, curious and even a bit hopeful.
"Envy is hurting you. Mirrors on mirrors on memories. A face it can feel but not fake. I want to help. You, not Envy."
The source of the voice appeared. It looked like a young man – pale, blonde, large watery blue eyes with hair falling into them, and an excessively large hat. Something about him looked familiar... No- felt familiar. But why?
"Who are you? I've seen you before. Have I?"
"I've been watching. I'm Cole. We're inside you. Or I am. You're always inside you."
Every time he spoke, he reappeared somewhere different in the room – on the wall, on the ceiling, sitting on the bed-frame. He explained that in trying to help, he had managed to accidentally get inside her head. No noticeable time had passed outside. That was a relief since she had begun to worry how her friends were faring. She gained some other useful tidbits of information from him as well
Something about the boy made Faydren want to trust him. He seemed earnest and honestly wanting to help. And really, she hadn't been doing so well on her own. The two came up with the best plan they could – she would keep pushing Envy to show her more and eventually it may weaken the demon enough to allow her escape. With that in mind and a nice morale boost, Faydren continued on. The next door flashed open and she stepped through into a prison.
"Your allies will curse your name. Like the first Inquisition, you will bring blood, and ruin, and fear!"
"Unless you don't? You don't have to. None of this is real unless you let it be," Cole's voice soothed.
"Get out, thing! I am learning!"
"No one will think you're me, demon," Faydren growled. The demon's laughter echoed all around.
"Do you your friends know you so well? Not as well as I'll know you..."
That thought made her uneasy. Did her friends know her? Really know her? It seemed unlikely. She barely knew herself anymore. Not to mention, she had been trying so hard to keep them at arms length...
"Think sparks. Flame," Cole advised her, waiting in one of the open cells.
A veilfire torch appeared in her hands. Faydren went into the guarded rooms, doing her best to ignore what was being said by the cell prisoners – her allies. Her friends. She hadn't wanted them to be friends. It always hurt so much more that way. Don't stop moving… Just don't stop moving. Her veilfire lit each brazier and each guard ran out. Then at least the figments were silent and she could forget them.
Entering the last room, she slowed to a stop. Cullen was in the cell. Pale and emaciated, it looked as though he was slowly being starved to death. He was talking to the guard but his eyes were on her, spearing her with that gaze. Why did he have to hurt so much more than the others?
"Is it my turn to be branded a traitor for questioning what we've become?" He spat. "I deserve it... for letting her turn the Inquisition into a butcher's pit!"
Faydren flinched, the words cutting deep. Then she lit the last brazier and an angry shriek filled the air.
"Keep going," Cole encouraged. The next door opened.
The new world materialized, and Faydren readied her staff as two men near her transformed into Shades. She suddenly remembered that her magic was still not responding, but it didn't seem to matter. The Shades took up a position on either side of her and began following her everywhere – as though they were her minions. She overheard nearby voices discussing the Inquisition's demon army and nearly retched.
"Keep going up. You're almost there," Cole's voice rang out confidently.
They were back at Therinfal and Faydren followed the stairways until she found herself walking up the Great Hall's steps once more. Had she done it? Would this lead her out? Something brushed her back and she spun around, but the shadow self was already pushing. It was strong, slamming her against the doors and lifting her by the throat. She struggled to breathe.
"Unfair, unfair! That thing kept you whole, kept you from giving me your shape!"
"What- could you gain- from being me?" Faydren choked out, darkness creeping into her vision.
"What could you gain-? Ugh! We'll start again. More pain this time. The Elder One still comes."
The demon Herald's hand glowed green as it gently ran its fingers along her face. The cold energy seeped into her skin and she felt the claws begin to dig further into her mind. The blackness in her vision was joined by green tendrils. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move.
"It's frightened of you," Cole appeared on the statue above her.
"Get out of-!" Envy turned to hiss at the spirit.
In that moment, Faydren felt a surge of power and confidence. She would not allow any of these events to happen. This was her head, and that thing could get the hell out. Slamming her arms down on its locked elbow, the grip on her throat released. Even as her feet hit the ground, she snapped her head forward into the creature's face. It stumbled back, snarling.
"It should be frightened," she said with deadly calm.
Faydren gripped its head in her palm and reached out with her spirit for the magic she knew was locked away somewhere. Her hand erupted into a storm of electricity that surged into the demon. Envy screamed and the world went white.
Varric wasn't sure how he felt when Faydren approached the Lord Seeker by herself. It seemed like a bad idea. When the lunatic grabbed her and started pulling, it seemed like an even worse idea. He hadn't even blinked when he found himself instead looking at possibly the most disturbing demon he'd ever seen – right where the Lord Seeker used to be. It crashed backwards through the door, scrambling to get away from Faydren. Contorting itself to a standing position, it shrieked at her before launching past the demonic barriers in the Great Hall. None of them had even gotten a shot off in that time.
Running forward, Varric stopped next to Faydren. She was pale and sweating, eyes haunted by something none of them had seen. Ragged breathing accompanied shaking hands, white-knuckled as she gripped her staff. For a moment, he thought she was frozen like that. Then she blinked.
"Stormcloud?"
He touched her arm gently. The mage flinched away, but seemed to relax when she saw him. Relief filled her face. She swallowed once, slowly regaining color and breathing normally. Iron Bull and Solas were watching with equal concern.
"Varric?" Her voice was small and strained.
"You alright?" He could tell she wasn't sure how to respond.
"Something clearly happened when he touched you. What was it?" Solas' worry was matched only by his curiosity.
"I'll give the quick version inside," her voice was mostly back to normal.
Varric could see the emotional wall being built back up, little by little. Based on what he saw a moment ago, it was probably the only way she was still functioning right now. Faydren gave a firm nod - as much for herself as for them – and strode into the Great Hall to meet Ser Barris and the remaining Templars.
The Herald explained the situation. The man they had thought was Lord Seeker Lucius was actually an Envy demon who had stolen his identity, leaving the real Lord Seeker's status unknown. The demon was working for something called The Elder One. It had been the one who introduced the red lyrium.
And it had tried to take her place too. Varric didn't want to think about what that meant right now, but he was more than a little frustrated that she'd been forced to face it alone. Or mostly alone – she'd asked if they saw a young man with her. The dwarf hadn't seen anything, but with all the weird shit going on he wasn't going to question it.
According to Barris, if they could find the uncorrupted Templar lieutenants and bring the pure lyrium stores to the Great Hall, the Templars could bring down the barrier. Then the Envy demon would have nowhere left to hide. Tiny hated demons, but Varric noticed even he seemed to be all for cutting down the bastard. He also noticed that the Qunari refused to move outside arms reach of Faydren. Good man.
The remaining knights would have to stay and hold the Great Hall. That left the Herald's group to get what was needed on their own. They moved to a door leading to the Officer Quarters. Faydren paused with one hand on the door and looked around at them. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was completely fine. But he did know better. Iron Bull grinned at her, Solas nodded, and Varric hefted his crossbow with a wink.
"Well, Bianca's ready!"
She opened the door.
Corrupted Templars… People that weren't people… Face-stealing demons (why did it have to be demons)… Iron Bull wasn't entirely sure what was going on. Then again, Iron Bull didn't much care. What he did care about was that this Envy demon had done something to Faydren – and he'd make it pay for that.
Grabbing the lyrium and saving the missing lieutenants didn't prove too difficult, and he was impressed at how long the Templars were able to hold that hall on their own. Now the knights were drinking the lyrium and said they'd need some time to build up their power for that barrier-busting trick. Bull watched as the room began to fill with more Red Templars and hoped they knew how to hurry.
Faydren hadn't said much of anything after her quick explanation. He picked her out during the fighting every now and then to make sure she wasn't in trouble. Right now she was pure focus and graceful fluidity as she alternated casting and staying out of melee range. Her battlefield awareness had improved significantly since the first time they'd met. The girl had natural talent.
It said a lot for her recruiting and companion choice that the four of them were skilled enough to hold off such a large force with minimal injury. They were beginning to tire though. Bull saw Varric over-rotate his escape backflip and land on his heels before falling on his ass. With a roar, the Qunari was able to distract the chasing swordsmen until the dwarf dropped into stealth. Barris needed to hurry up.
A loud whooshing pop echoed through the Great Hall and Bull crushed one last enemy before turning to see the barrier gone. Despite the apparent danger involved, it looked like Barris and the rest were just fine. They began taking over defending the hall again.
The Iron Bull took the steps two at a time, a savage grin on his face. That demon wouldn't know what hit it. A cold breeze brushed his arm and he glanced down to find Faydren now walking at his side. Sweat coated her face, plastering down her bangs, and she seemed a bit pale. Her stride was strong though, and she had an expression of harsh determination. Those piercing grey eyes practically sparked. Solas and Varric fell in behind them as they approached the open shrine.
"I touched so much of you. But you are selfish with your glory. Now I'm no one."
The voice had an otherworldly hollowness. It made Bull's skin crawl. So did watching the thing slide out of the ground, arms and legs moving at odd angles. He felt Faydren take a fearful step back, and put a reassuring hand on her head. She nodded and took a battle stance.
"Dark and desperate. Death to make yourself alive. I used to be like you," the Qunari was surprised to see some kid in a floppy hat appear out of nowhere and speak to the demon. "I'm not anymore. You shouldn't be, either."
"Cole!" Faydren's voice sounded relieved.
Envy gave a furious shriek before attacking. Hissing green projectiles launched from its hands. The barrier came up in time to block any the group was unable to dodge as Bull shouted a challenge and ran at the monstrosity. His swing missed as the slippery bastard dropped into some fade ground crap and reappeared near one of the railings instead. The Qunari growled. This was gonna be a pain in the ass.
If he could keep it focused on him and running, the others might be able to take it down with their ranged attacks. So far the bolts and magic didn't seem to be terribly effective, but nothing can take that kind of punishment forever. The random boy kept popping out and taking some chunks out of the thing as well.
Bull rushed at it again. This time Envy side-stepped as his greataxe sunk into the ground. Before he could take another swing, an ear-splitting shriek exploded in his head. He grunted and shut his eyes tightly as his worst fears flashed through his mind. It took him a moment to shove them away, and that was enough for Envy to lash out. Its bony arm was stronger than it looked and sent the big mercenary crashing into one of the monolithic red lyrium crystals growing in the courtyard.
It clambered toward him, about to make another attempt until a crossbow bolt glanced off the side of its head. Snarling at the source, it submerged itself again and erupted from the ground beneath Solas and Varric. The two were tossed aside like ragdolls and disoriented by the sudden impact.
If Faydren hadn't fade stepped towards Bull when he fell, she might have been caught in the attack too. Now Iron Bull saw her face fill with horror as Envy began its terror scream once more. The mage called a lightning bolt down on its head.
"Hey! Forget about me already after all that whining?!" Faydren taunted.
"Boss, no!"
The Qunari was still getting to his feet. She shouldn't be making herself a target with this thing. It was more powerful than he had expected. Even Pride Demons didn't give them this much trouble. It submerged and he saw a green glow surround Faydren for a moment. As the demon jumped up, she disappeared in a blue haze and reappeared on the other side of the courtyard before shooting more magic at its face. It shot the green missiles in return and they tracked her movements – right into the crystal she slid behind.
Bull grinned. Smart girl. Varric and Solas were back up and attacking while she darted around as a distraction. Bull attacked when he could, waiting for its back to be turned and then dodging away before it could use those radius attacks. The kid was doing the same. They were wearing the demon down.
"I know you better than you know yourself, Trevelyan!"
It screeched angrily before diving yet again. Faydren fade stepped onto the dais, but this time the green glow stayed with her.
"Herald!" Solas shouted as she was launched backwards into the railing.
Envy didn't give her a chance to stand as it extended its freakishly long arms and grabbed her, lifting the mage high into the air. Faydren cried out in pain as it began forcing its hands together in an attempt to crush her. The bolts and fire pelting its back were ignored, but Bull saw his opportunity.
Rushing in, he took a mighty swing at the back of its leg where the skin was still singed. Whatever had been protecting it from the heavy hits seemed to be lacking there now. The demon dropped to its knees with a scream but didn't release its grip. Iron Bull was still leaning over from the swing and felt a foot land lightly on his back before pushing off again. He looked up in surprise. The kid with the big hat was balancing on Envy's shoulders – and both of his daggers were planted in its head.
With an angry moan, the demon disintegrated. Faydren fell to the ground, bruised and gasping for air but otherwise unhurt. The boy was gone too. There was a boy, right? Iron Bull frowned at his fuzzy memory. Varric helped the Herald to her feet once her breath was back.
"You know, Stormcloud? I'm pretty sure you're crazy," he chuckled at her.
"Think so? You might be right." It didn't sound like a joke.
"Well. Shall we do what we came here for?" Solas deftly turned the conversation.
"Oh," Faydren almost seemed to have forgotten. "Yes, let's."
The Templars came out to meet them on the walkway. They were tired and bloodied, but relief showed plainly in their faces and body language. Ser Barris approached Faydren with a bow.
"The Templars are ready to hear what the Inquisition needs of us."
The mage looked thoughtful, taking a moment to gaze behind her at the sky where the Breach was plainly visible. Facing them and standing a little straighter, it was clear she'd made a decision.
"There was corruption here. But also I see valor, and honor in each of you who stood fast. Rise tall again. Help the Inquisition seal the Breach before it swallows us all."
"You speak truths we never should have ignored," Barris lowered his head in shame. "But the Order is leaderless, gutted by betrayal. We must rebuild it."
"Your Order is a symbol that holds the people's respect. That cannot die today," she extended a hand. "We offer you an alliance. All we ask is you help us close the Breach."
"Do we take the Inquisition's terms, brothers and sisters?" Ser Barris asked his fellows with a smile.
They cheered wildly in response, and Bull felt himself grinning. The Boss did good. Solas looked displeased (or that was his normal look – it was hard to tell), and Varric just looked relieved it was over. The Qunari resisted the urge to reach over and ruffle Faydren's hair affectionately since it might ruin the epic moment. Either way, it was time to head back.
Faydren kept her eyes down as the war council discussed her results. Aside from Leliana, everyone seemed mostly happy with how it worked out. Some of her new information was unnerving though – the Elder One, demon armies, a possible assassination plot, red lyrium Templars... Solving one problem suddenly spawned a dozen more. But she wasn't really listening. Faydren was trying very hard not to listen or look at all, because when she did...
Leliana slicing Cullen's throat.
Josephine laughing demonically about stealing her face.
Cullen stabbing her in the back.
Cullen's eyes filled with hate.
Cullen believing she was some evil tyrant...
"...How soon until the Templar veterans arrive?"
There was an explosion of greenish smoke and Cole appeared crouched on the war table. The council staggered back, reaching for their respective weapons. Faydren's darker thoughts were somewhat soothed when she saw him.
"They're almost here," he peered curiously at a map marker. "Templars don't like to be late."
"Maker!" Cullen drew his sword and moved to stand protectively near the Herald.
"Wait!" Faydren finally spoke.
"I came with you to help. I would have told you before, but you were busy," Cole looked at her apologetically.
"That's fine, Cole," she looked pointedly at Cassandra and Cullen who still had their blades raised. "You just startled us, appearing out of thin air."
"I wasn't air, I was here. You didn't see me. Most people don't until I let them."
"Call the guards," Cassandra ordered. "This creature is not what you-"
"A moment please, Cassandra," Leliana looked amused. "I would like to hear why he came."
"You help people. You made them safe when they would have died," his voice was pleading. "I want to do that. I can help."
"Cole saved my life in Therinfal. I couldn't have defeated Envy without him," Faydren moved towards the boy protectively. "I think he really wants to help."
"I won't be in the way," Cole said excitedly. "Tiny, no trouble, no notice taken unless you want them to."
"You're not honestly suggesting we give him run of the camp," Cullen was incredulous.
"Not freely, perhaps," Josephine was amused now too. "But it seems a waste to-"
"Where did he go?" Cassandra was immediately worried – Cole had vanished.
"I'm sure we'll find him somewhere," Faydren began to feel anxious again and started a bit when she noticed Cullen's sword still out. He quickly sheathed it.
"We'll need your help when the Templar veterans arrive. Take time to prepare while you can," he spoke softly.
"I will."
Faydren still couldn't bring herself to look at them and hastily exited the room. She walked faster and faster, hoping to get to her room before anyone tried to stop her. She couldn't handle it right now. She just needed to think – to be alone. The door came into sight, and relief washed over her – until she saw the short figure waiting.
Varric smiled up at her, but she could see the concern in his eyes. There were too many feelings. She couldn't let them out right now, there was still too much to do. She needed to keep them in a while longer. They wouldn't need her to be strong once the Breach was closed. Faydren slowed to a stop in front of him.
"Hey, Stormcloud. I thought you might need to talk."
"Not now, Varric," she kept her voice void of emotion.
"You shouldn't keep it all bottled in like that. It's not healthy."
She remained silent, her eyes cold as she moved past him to unlock the door.
"Faydren-"
"Varric!" It came out harsher than she intended, and it almost broke her right then. So she made the ice even thicker and gritted the last sentence out through her teeth. "I don't want to talk about it."
The silence behind her spoke volumes. Eventually he sighed and walked away. Faydren fumbled with the door handle and slid inside before gently closing and locking it. She pressed her back to the firm wood of the door and let herself slide down to the floor.
She sat there, knees pulled up to her chest and face buried in crossed arms. Darius' pendant was clutched tightly in one hand as her whole body began to shake. But there was no sound, no crying – just a trembling young mage curled up alone in the cold dark.
Cullen's head snapped up at the sound of the tavern door opening, hopeful. He smiled in relief and waved Varric over. The smile faded when he saw the dwarf's expression as he sat down and raised his hand to signal for a drink.
"Were you able to talk to her?" Cullen asked, though he already knew the answer.
"She shut me out hard," he sighed. "And I think it hurt her more than it did me."
"You should have seen the way she looked at us, Varric... At me," Cullen frowned down at his drink. "There was so much pain and fear in her eyes. I can imagine what it must have shown her..."
"Look, Curly, whatever that demon chose to do wasn't your fault. It's not like you were the one there doing it."
"I suppose that's true... But it doesn't make me feel any better," he sighed heavily.
"You either, huh?" The rogue took a drink.
"We shouldn't have sent her."
"You know there was nobody else who could have done it."
"It just seems like we call on her to do everything with the most risk involved," he raked a hand through his blonde locks.
"That's because we do," Varric quipped.
"Not helping," he paused. "I just wish there was a way I could help fix it."
"Give her some time. The memory is still fresh, but it'll fade eventually. Then you can cover over it with some pleasant new ones."
"Yes... that might be best," Cullen finished off his drink and got to his feet. "Thank you, Varric."
"Wish I could have done more, Curly," he waved good night.
Cullen's brow was furrowed as he walked through the night back to his quarters. They say time heals all wounds, but he knew personally that wasn't always the case. He would just have to hope for now, and let her come to terms on her own.
The ramparts remained empty for the next few days.