The late spring warmth carried on the gentle wind, whisking merrily through the tangled manes and tails of the horses assembled by the gates. As they stomped impatiently at the flies encircling their feet, the rider of the head steed swiveled in his saddle to address a tall and proud Templar standing by his flank.

"I will be gone awhile with the Inquisitor," said he. "I trust you to oversee the troops in my absence, Knight-Commander Derlin."

"You have my word, Commander Cullen," Derlin Barris affirmed with a reverent bow of his head. "You shall find Skyhold in the same order as you left it."

A friendly pat graced the new Knight-Commander's shoulder and the two men shared a smile of camaraderie. Those were the only formalities exchanged before Derlin stepped back to watch the party leave.

Cullen spurred his horse for the bridge and the rest followed obediently. As they clip-clopped away from the walls of the stately fortress, Ahnnie stole a look back at the battlements to find what appeared to be Cassandra's profile watching their departure. She turned back around in her saddle and spied Varric's stout frame on his pony a little ways ahead, a nostalgic sadness overcoming her as she thought of the original quartet being incomplete this time around.

"They will make up," Solas assured her when he saw her troubled gaze. "Simply give it time, da'len."

"I guess," she murmured, and returned her focus on their journey to Crestwood.

"Refreshing, isn't it?" Evelyn breathed in and out. "The vast mountains around us, the endless blue sky above..."

Ahnnie snorted. "You're just glad to be out and about, aren't you?"

Evelyn rolled her eyes playfully. "As if you can't say the same?"

They shared a laugh and spurred their horses on to catch up with the others. The weather was certainly agreeing with them, and was the most pleasant Ahnnie had ever seen this side of the Frostbacks. She thought at first that it'd be difficult getting acclimated to traveling through the mountains again, but was soon reminded that the harrowing winter and this genial spring were as different as fire and water. Besides which, she got to travel with Evelyn; what more could she want out of this fine day?

They dashed past the Iron Bull's nuggalope plodding good-naturedly along the path and slowed back to a walk as they came within a horse's breadth of Dorian's finicky palomino. But Evelyn's mount strayed a hair too close to the Tevinter mage's steed, and his horse's rear leg kicked out a split second later.

Her horse jerked its head and snorted irritably as it veered away from the leg. Dorian heard the commotion and gave the young women behind him warning glances. "I shouldn't have to remind you that it's a bad idea to get close to my rear."

"Not our fault you got stuck with the sourpuss," Ahnnie teased, urging her horse's flank closer to Evelyn's until they were practically stirrup to stirrup. "And it wasn't even that close." The two exchanged knowing smirks.

"Ha-ha," Dorian scoffed flatly, before being yanked back to attention as the palomino got sidetracked by a clump of long grass. "Not again!" he lamented. After successfully regaining the horse's head, he let out a huff of indignation and shook his own. Noticing the giggles coming from behind him, his smile turned wry. "Oh yes, let's all make fun of the one with the stubborn nag, never mind the hulking nuggalope right before us!"

"You leave Nuggy out of this!" Bull cried.

Evelyn's eyes widened in surprise. "'Nuggy'? How...cute!" she gushed amusedly.

"Who'd have thought a guy like Tiny could get so attached?" Varric wondered aloud.

"Huh? Tiny?" Ahnnie asked.

Bull rolled his eyes. "It's a nickname. Makes my naming conventions sound like flattery in comparison."

"Now, now," Dorian adomished, "just because you ended up with 'Tiny'..."

"Oh yeah, Sparkler?" Bull shot back with a smirk. "But if it were up to me, I would've gone for Twinkle Toes."

Dorian sniffed. "At least it's not 'Tiny'," he mumbled in mock annoyance. "Or Curly." It took a while for the implication to set in, but it became obvious nonetheless when Dorian continued holding his gaze towards Commander Cullen's back. Surprisingly, the Commander acknowledged this with a noncommittal grunt.

Ahnnie looked about her companions as if seeing them for the first time. "Does everyone have a nickname?"

"About so," Varric confirmed. He eyed Solas pointedly and elbowed the elf in the arm. "Eh, Chuckles?"

Solas gave him a thin-lipped smile and barely glanced at the others as he answered, "Yes. Truly amazing."

Evelyn just about fell out of her saddle with laughter. Ahnnie couldn't help but join along, unfortunately for Solas. I mean, 'Chuckles'? That's the last thing I would have thought of!

"Do I get to be part of the club?" Evelyn asked, wiping a tear from her eye. "What's my nickname?"

Varric rubbed his chin in thought. "You know, I've been thinking about that since we left Skyhold. Never saw you much, but it always stood out to me how you get dimples when you smile. So...Dimples."

"Mm, Dimples! I do like the sound of that," Evelyn mused.

"Glad to hear it," Varric said with a little head bow.

Ahnnie gripped her reins in an almost childish anticipation. "And me? Do I get a nickname? Or did I already have one?"

At this, Varric seemed to fall short. "In...quisitor?" he suggested weakly.

"But that's my title..."

He shrugged. "Your name already sounds like a nickname, so..."

"Because it is one?"

"Well, there you go."

"But you didn't think of it," she pouted. Varric only gave her another uncertain shrug in return, which rather disappointed her.

"Wait a second," he suddenly said. His eyes swept over the group and looked left and right. "Where's Kid?"

Hey! Isn't that what he used to call me? Or at least, the halved variant of it. It didn't take her long to connect the dots, though. "Cole? What..." She let out a gasp when she saw how far their last straggler was. "Oh! Cole!"

She pulled her horse back and rushed down their previous line of travel to rescue their overlooked party member. His mare was disagreeing with him by throwing her head every few steps; Ahnnie advised him to loosen the rein, and helped bring him back into the fold with gentle coaxing to his mount and some riding tips to him.

"First time on horseback?" she asked sympathetically.

"Not really," he confessed. "I just don't do it much."

"Don't worry," she smiled. "That's a part of why they don't listen; they can sense uncertainty. Just feel confident with them and they'll feel confident with you."

Evelyn cocked a brow at their exchange. "Interesting," she remarked. "I'd never known that mare to be a nuisance, even to beginners."

Ahnnie shrugged. "Well...everyone rides differently. Perhaps she just needs to get more used to Cole."

The Trevelyan nodded away in thought. "Of course," she agreed airily, but Ahnnie could still sense the distrust emanating from the look in her eyes. The previous conversation appeared to have stagnated the moment she went to retrieve Cole, so it wasn't just Evelyn who felt the same.

I'll be damned if Cole can't feel it as well, Ahnnie thought with a sigh.

That was perhaps the only thing that dampened the cheer of the journey for her. When she originally decided to bring the young man along, Cullen and Evelyn were the most vocal in their disapproval. Dorian appeared disturbed when he learned of Cole's mysterious origins, while the Iron Bull was oddly reserved about the matter; though with his Chargers away salvaging the ruins of Haven, he probably saw no reason to give any loud declaration of opinion. Ahnnie could only surmise that it ran in the same direction as the others, though, given what she knew of the Qun.

Only Solas and Varric received Cole cordially, for which Ahnnie was grateful. She was positive Cole could prove himself out in the field and felt more confident in her belief with the backing of two of her closest companions.

But in the meantime, it wouldn't hurt for him to improve impressions. She couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt every time the others looked askance at him.

"How do you think I can do that?" Cole asked her, pensive.

It surprised her that they hadn't yet had this talk; the reasons for one were glaringly obvious, after all. But later was better than never. "Well...appearance is a start," she began. "Straighten your posture, for one. People find that confident. I remember when I had to correct mine..." Thinking back to Corporal Hargrave's first lessons made her involuntarily wince. "It's not an easy habit to break, but try relaxing your shoulders and puffing out your chest more. And then maybe, if you kept your hair out of your eyes..." She pondered this advice as she considered how he could make his eyes less sullen. "Nope, let's start with the hair. The eyes will follow."

Cole swiped a hand at his bangs, pushing them to one side. Either because it was a new look or wasn't particularly tasteful, Ahnnie shook her head at the change. "No, that's...not quite right..." She pursed her lips in thought before reaching for his hat. "Sorry, I hope you don't mind...but maybe if you hid less beneath this hat..."

She lifted it off to unveil a scraggly blonde nest in dire need of brushing. She mimicked the act of pushing back her hair and Cole repeated it tentatively, running his calloused fingers to the back of his head until the bangs no longer framed his face. When he let go, several strands re-released themselves about his forehead, but his face was otherwise unobstructed. And as Ahnnie saw it for the first time in full clarity, she felt more satisfied with the result.

"There we go," she smiled. "Much better."

Cole winced as a dapple of sunlight hit his eyes. "It's not very comfortable, but if you like it better..."

As their party crested round a bend by a pine tree, the sun fell more abundantly on Cole's features, softening the harshness of his complexion and crowning his head in a halo of golden light. Ahnnie did not realize she was staring until she remembered he was awaiting her response. "Oh, yeah," she murmured, suddenly interested in the pommel of her saddle. "Only if you want to, though. Being true to yourself is what matters most." Then she realized she was still hanging onto his hat and returned it with an embarrassed laugh. "Oops...here you go."

He replaced it on his head with a reassuring smile. "It's all right. I know you want to help."

And she supposed that she had, in a way, for he adjusted the hat carefully so as not to disturb his new hairstyle.

Cool water slid down Eveyln's throat as she took a much-needed swig from her waterskin, her lips releasing the mouthpiece several gulps later with a sigh of satisfaction. She wiped the stray droplets from her chin and screwed the cork back on, noting the weight of the swishing inside as she did so; not so bad. Should last me until we make camp for the night.

"Out of water, Lady Evelyn?" Commander Cullen's voice inquired, cutting through her thoughts. "I'll go fetch some more for you."

She looked up to find him approaching, having just dismounted from his horse as well. "How kind of you, Commander," she replied with a smile. "It's little more than half full, but I can fill it for myself later."

"Dorian found a spring just now. It's not but a stone's throw away," he insisted. "I'm going to refill mine anyways."

Evelyn tilted her head inquisitively. "Well...can't turn that down, now can we?" She handed him the waterskin. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Cullen nodded, though judging by his stoic mask, it was difficult to tell whether or not it was indeed a pleasure.

Military men, Evelyn thought with a shake of her head. Beyond the little display of emotion before they left Skyhold, the Commander had been stony and authoritative in his conduct. It thus amazed her that a goofball like Maxwell had been able to join the Templar ranks; though she supposed if he hadn't, Father would have put him to far more boring use than he was accustomed to. He never did like the thought of becoming a 'Chantry lackey'.

Evelyn stretched her arms and paced about to shake off some saddle rigidity, twirling her ankles every few steps or so. She considered going over to make some conversation with Ahnnie, but the girl was occupied in a pleasant one herself with Solas and Cole. Ugh, not him again...While Evelyn had no qualms about the hedge mage, unconventional though he was, Cole simply rubbed her the wrong way. A spirit that wasn't a spirit, yet a human that wasn't human? It bothered her more than a little that Ahnnie was getting so familiar with him.

There probably wasn't much time for small talk, anyway. The Commander came back, filled waterskins in hand, and after returning hers he barked for their group to remount in fifteen minutes. "I apologize for the short break time," he then said to her. "If you need a few more minutes, just let me know."

Evelyn blinked. "Ah, no. I'm fine," she assured him. "We've only been riding for half a day."

"If you're certain."

"I am."

"Very well; just let me know if the road gets rough later on, and we'll stop for another break. These paths can get quite rocky."

A fuming warmth rose to her cheeks as Evelyn listened to him speak. I don't see him asking any of the others the same thing. Not even Ahnnie, and she's the most inexperienced of us all. Just how delicate does he think I am? The waterskin became an uncomfortable weight on her belt as the implication set in. She'd assumed he understood by now that she wasn't expecting differential treatment based on birth; then again, they'd only met several times since that talk on the Magister's judgement day. Perhaps it was time to change that.

"You know, Commander," she began, "I didn't ask to come along if I didn't expect to face some hardships. You needn't worry about my...delicate sensibilities, for lack of a better word."

He raised an eyebrow. "All right."

"And I know what you're thinking," she continued. "A noble who's led a cloistered life in the Ostwick Circle; must have unusually high expectations about adventuring, no? But I know this is no romanticized adventure, trust me. And I can pull my own weight in a group..."

She'd expected him to show some form of acknowledgement towards her words; instead, his face was still the same blank canvas as it had been all day. She found her resolve faltering beneath such indifference, much to her humiliation. "In short," she huffed, "I hope you understand that I'm not here to dilly-dally. I expect – that is...I would like to be taken as seriously as the rest."

Cullen nodded. "Of course. My apologies, Lady Evelyn."

He apologized...! Great. Now she felt bad. "I wasn't looking for apologies," she hastily clarified. "I was just hoping to make my wishes clear."

"And I've heard them," he affirmed. "Rest assured." But though his tone held no innuendo, Evelyn thought she could see the corner of his mouth curving up ever-so-lightly as he turned away to tend to his horse.

The...the nerve of him! The gall! Never had any interaction left her so flabbergasted. Or at least, not outside her older brothers. The discomfort was as unwelcome as a needle in the saddle. She swallowed it down as best as she could, but as she rummaged through her saddlebags to double check the contents, she couldn't help replaying the scene over and over again in her mind.

Dorian, who'd been a quiet bystander not more than several yards away, looked curiously from the retreating Commander to Evelyn. "Too chivalrous for your taste?" he asked as he came close, and took a swig from his own newly filled skin.

"Quite," she replied. She closed the saddlebags and huffed. "I'm much too upset by this for my own good."

Dorian laughed. "I take it he's not handsome enough to let it slide? Or perhaps, too handsome?"

Evelyn gave him a sidelong glance and smirked. "You're not so bad yourself," she remarked, noting the gleam of his freshly washed face. "Now if only the Commander had your wit to match."

"Oh, of course! I'm the handsomest, most wittiest devil you'll find for miles around," he quipped with a wink and swept a hand over his hair, the ends of which sparkled with droplets of spring water. "Sometimes a little too much for my own good...but I digress." He returned his hand to his side with a flourish. "Hmm. Lady Evelyn Trevelyan of...Ostwick, is it?"

Evelyn nodded. "And you are Dorian...?"

"Pavus," he supplied. "Not-so-recently of Minrathous."

She frowned a moment, and then raised her brows. "Color me surprised! Never did I expect to meet a distant relative from Tevinter."

Dorian laughed. "I was wondering if you'd recognize the name! Good memory."

"Same to you; noble families are so tangled, it's a miracle we can still pick apart who's who."

He shook his head. "Maker, I hated that part of my education the most."

"Oh goodness, so did I."

"The long hours, reciting list after list..."

"Stop it, I can only get so traumatized!"

They shared a laugh. "This reminds me," Evelyn said when they were done, "I'd actually heard of you before, just not your family name...yes, the mustached Tevinter mage who helped defeat Magister Alexius. Funny and sarcastic you were, even in the face of danger."

"And to whom do I owe such a glowing review?" Dorian asked, intrigued.

Evelyn nodded in Ahnnie's direction. "And as one mage to another, I must say, it was awfully impressive of you to have undone that time spell under such constraints. I can't imagine how it was even conceived of in the first place, much less reversed."

"Ah, well...Tevinter's luck," he chuckled. "How else can we accomplish our diabolical schemes?"

"But, truly, to achieve such a spell...the Magister must have bent the Fade itself to make it work."

"Nothing a nation of half-crazed blood mages can't achieve."

She couldn't help but chortle at that. "Was it difficult, though? To join the Inquisition, that is. You'd have thought I'd sent Andraste to her pyre from the letters my father sent; I can't imagine your family being overjoyed at the news."

All of a sudden, Dorian's pleasant face turned into a grimace. "Yes, about that...I haven't been in good standing with them for quite some time. So it wasn't difficult to join, per se, but...let's just say I've only been able to make inferences as to their reactions."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Evelyn sighed. "Sometimes there's just no pleasing them."

"Indeed," Dorian agreed. "It's almost always disownment or petty, drawn-out badgering, you know; there simply is no winning."

"How very true. But we're here now, aren't we?" Evelyn felt a crick in her neck and rolled her head to alleviate it. She saw Varric cleaning out his pony's hooves as her head turned and remembered there were more important things to tend to than small talk. "Do you need any help with your feisty mount?" she then asked. "Might as well make the most of the time we have left to get ready."

"Oh, you know a way to make it less stubborn?"

"No," Evelyn chuckled, "but I can swap horses with you. Contrary to what the Commander might believe, I can take a rocky road or two."

"You would? Splendid!" He clapped her jovially on the back as they walked over to the palomino. "I knew I'd find a kindred spirit in you."

"Well, we all need one, don't we?"

"Happy birthday to me...I'm one-hundred and three...I smell like a monkey..."

And I just forgot the rest, Ahnnie thought with a bit of a sigh.

She rolled from her back onto her stomach to hug the cloak she used as a pillow, and stared contemplatively into the fire. It was a tranquil night, illuminated by the stars and peppered with the sounds of small talk and crackling firewood. The Iron Bull was cracking some sort of joke to Varric, Dorian and Evelyn were musing over things they held in common, while Cullen kept to himself and Solas had decided to retire early so as to take on the next watch.

"No you don't."

Ahnnie looked up to find Cole sitting next to her bedroll. "It's just a song," she chuckled. "I'm not a hundred and three, either."

"But it is your birthday?"

She traced a little pattern into the dirt. "Yeah...or at least, I think it's my birthday. Justinian is the Thedosian name of my birth month, but judging by the difference in months here, I can't tell if it'd still be Justinian, or August?"

"Hmm."

Bull suddenly guffawed at something, drowning out the volume of the campfire for a moment. When his laughter died down, Ahnnie sighed again and propped her head in her palms. "Guess you don't know your own birthday? Or how old you are?"

Cole grew thoughtful for a moment, before shaking his head. "No, I don't...I don't know."

Well, a birthday means he would've been born at some point, so I guess that makes sense...It never occurred to her that Cole could be decades, perhaps even centuries, older than her until now. "You look as old as me," she offered, "give or take a few years." He took the observation with a shrug and continued staring into the fire. She gave up the point and rolled onto her back to face the stars.

"It's slippery. One moment it feels like forever; another, and it's gone. Rushing, slowing, in one place then suddenly elsewhere...stealing up from behind like a thief, yet standing straight ahead at the same time..."

"Or you could just say, 'Time is weird'," she suggested amusedly. Her eyes followed a cluster of stars, trying to see if they could trace a constellation. She found four that connected into a vertical trapezoid and tilted her head to study the ones below them. "Aha! Voyager!" she exclaimed, reveling in the satisfaction of having found the ship-shaped constellation. She was aware of a proper Ancient Tevene name, but it was a tad too complicated to pronounce. "Enough on me, though..." She rolled onto her side. "Tell me about you...about your friends. What were they like?"

He looked at her a moment before turning away again. "Why do you always want to know about me?"

The question took her aback. "B-because you're...interesting?" She shook her head before she could stutter something more embarrassing. "Sorry, is it...too much?"

It took him a while to answer, which made her feel even worse. "It's like Rhys."

"Rhys?" she echoed.

"My friend." He fiddled with his fingers as his eyes took on that distant look she'd seen back at Skyhold. "Some of the mages at the Spire wanted to die. Too sad, too scared...too much. I didn't know what I was...a ghost, I thought. Fading in the Fade. When I came to them, they could see me. I used a knife to set them free. When Rhys found out, he made me stop, made me understand."

Ahnnie's inquisitive gaze grew troubled as the implication set in. "You...killed the mages?"

"There were other ways to help," Cole put in. "I didn't know."

He was no stranger to killing or combat, that was for certain. But this seemed different than that. This seemed as if he had put the knife to the mages in their most vulnerable moments...he killed them to help them...but perhaps it was because he didn't know any better...?

"I knew," he interrupted her. "I just thought I had to. They were hurting, helpless, haunted...it was all I could do." He shook his head. "It was wrong. I was wrong. If I start again, you or Cassandra or Cullen need to kill me."

Ahnnie gasped and flapped her mouth open and closed in several attempts to answer. "I-I'm sure we don't need to do that," she blurted at last, the memory of fighting him in Redcliffe intrusively resurfacing. "Rhys...you were talking about Rhys?"

"He was a mage," Cole answered, and she thanked the Maker when his eyes grew distant again. "He saw me when most couldn't, and he...remembered. He helped me, and I watched over him. I worried Evangeline would hurt him."

Somewhere along the way, he had pulled his bedroll over and laid down on his stomach as he recounted the details. Like mischievous children whispering secrets, they lay before the fire to hear the tale given in hushed tones. Cryptic though his words could be, Ahnnie gathered that Rhys and Evangeline (an unlikely duo at that, mage and templar) adventured with Cole after some trouble in the Spire to the Adamant Fortress in the Western Approach. For what reason, Cole didn't divulge, but they found demons there and saved Cole from 'a cupboard on the bad day'. Their rapport fell apart, however, when Lord Seeker Lambert told him what he was. Lambert had been upset at what they had found in Adamant and was determined to stop them...even Rhys didn't accept him after that...

"Lambert killed so many, he didn't care...cold, corrupt. So I came and killed him."

And that was that. A tale that began with blood and ended with blood. Ahnnie looked from his haunted eyes to the flickering fire again, not knowing what to say. "I'm so sorry," she murmured at last. "But you're with us now, so..." She placed a comforting hand on his elbow and smiled. "Maybe if we see Rhys and Evangeline again, we could explain? Where do you think they'd be?"

"They should have been with the rebels," Cole confessed, "but maybe they ran away together instead. Neither of them liked killing."

"Perhaps I could ask Leliana to find them–"

"No," he almost snapped. "If they are alive and safe, they should stay away. Let them forget."

Ahnnie's hand slipped away as she mumbled an apology. But it felt most unfair, especially since Cole still remembered them fondly, almost wistfully. Perhaps she could do some digging on her own later...at the moment, something clicked in her memory after running the story over for a second time in her head. "Is the Spire in Orlais?"

"Yes, Val Royeaux."

"And Rhys was a Senior Enchanter?"

"I think so..."

"I'm reading his book!" She turned excitedly towards Cole. "You can read, right? I could give it to you. It's about Fade denizens, but knowing that it's from him might help you feel closer." Then she remembered one important thing. "It's back at Skyhold, so I guess you'll have to wait...unless..." She frowned. "We could go through the Fade to take a peek at what I've read?"

"You want to travel there, like you do with Solas," Cole surmised.

"Yeah...and you could show me what Rhys and Evangeline look like," Ahnnie suggested hopefully.

"No," Solas loudly grumbled from his bedroll, surprising them both. "Another word of that, da'len, and I'll slip a potion in your food that'll give you insomnia for a week. Don't even think about trying after I'm 'asleep', either," he added for good measure, his groggy voice intimidating regardless of fatigue.

Ahnnie and Cole exchanged meek glances before she burst out in suppressed giggles. "Sorry, hahren! I promise I won't. Now...don't let me get in the way of your rest; I know how important sleep is at your age..."

She narrowly dodged the incoming pinecone and rolled about her bedroll with laughter. Cole chuckled too and remarked to her, "We'd best listen to what he says. He thinks you're not fit enough to enter the Fade without someone stronger."

"Okay," she wheezed, "but what about you?"

"I can go, but I'm a spirit. I know what to do. You're human and you don't know, not quite yet, anyway."

Ahnnie sighed and gently flipped herself onto her back. "Then I'll just dream the normal way for now. The stars are nice tonight; maybe I can make it to another constellation before I tucker out..." She yawned. "I should shut up before I get carried away...night, Cole."

"Good night," he returned, and snuggled into the roll. He watched her eyes awhile as they searched amongst the stars, curious and determined yet sabotaged by sleepy lids, and eventually, without knowing, he gave in to his own.

The weather turned sour when they finally reached Crestwood. It was hastily growing dark and Ahnnie was grateful for the proximity of their destination, but a look at the stormy lake nearby dampened her hopes of a relaxing evening after a dusty week of travel.

"A rift in the lake?" Cullen exclaimed after seeing the sickly green lights boiling on the water. "Looks like we'll be having trouble..."

When they made it to their camp, the reports were even worse. "We've got undead on our hands," the Commander told them grimly.

"Undead!?" Ahnnie screamed. Cullen frowned at her, so she resumed, quieter, "Undead? As in, zombies?"

"I'm not familiar with that term, but after the rift appeared corpses started walking out of the lake."

"So zombies," she concluded unhappily.

"Wasn't Crestwood the site of a flood during the Fifth Blight?" Evelyn asked with a tilt of her head. "The appearance of a rift may have allowed demons access to the bodies..."

"It never is a good idea to open the Fade in a place of death," Solas put in thoughtfully.

"At any rate, we'll have to go through them if we want to reach the caves where Sir Hawke's informant is hiding," Cullen continued. "That would mean getting to the rift in the lake; cut the disturbance at its source, and we're free to move."

"Nifty plan," Varric commented. "Let's just put on our swimsuits and go for a nice dive, eh? Can't be that deep."

"I heard you and the scout discussing a keep," Dorian interjected. "I saw it on our way here and it's quite close to the lake, with a dam, no less. Perhaps someone there knows an inkling of what to do?"

"Caer Bronach was overrun by bandits during the chaos after the rift appeared," Cullen sighed. "Otherwise, I'd have first sent to the keep for help. We could conduct an assault to take it back, but let's not jump to conclusions yet. Our first objective is the rift. Dorian and Evelyn, go with the Iron Bull and Inquisitor to the village below and see if you can find any answers; report back your findings, and if need be, we'll move out tonight."

Ahnnie watched with a sinking heart as the other three dispersed to prepare for the drudging walk down the hill to the village. But beyond that was a nagging question borne from the shock of the first news: "Have any of the undead, um...approached the camp? Just in case we don't go out tonight and sleep here instead," she hastily added.

"An occasional shambler here and there," Cullen reported nonchalantly. "Nothing to worry about. Most of them head for the village."

She waited until she had exited the tent to groan and pull her face into her hands...Great. Just great.

"Zom-bee. Such a funny word!"

"Ugh, stop it, Dorian...it's not funny to me..."

"Is it the word for undead in your language, boss?" Bull asked curiously.

"Not...really." Ahnnie flicked more rainwater off her hood. "It's a borrowed term from another culture."

"It sounds like something Max would have babbled as a toddler," Evelyn remarked. "Makes the thought of undead seem less gruesome to me."

Ahnnie gripped her glaive uncomfortably and scanned the dark countryside around them with suspicious eyes. "Okay, but they can't turn you into a zombie by biting you, right? Or eat you alive?"

She could tell the mages were struggling to suppress their amusement, as their shivering shoulders indicated. "You can't 'turn' undead by being bitten," Evelyn clarified. "But an undead's disposition is very much dependent on what demon possesses it. So yes, they could eat you alive, if they're possessed by hunger demons–"

"Yes, that's enough, thanks," Ahnnie hastily mumbled.

They could just make out the outline of a wooden gate in the rainy gloom after what felt like an eternity of walking. Glowing orange spots dotted the slick ground ahead, prefaced by a rancid salty old smell like rotten smoked meat. She pulled up the collar of her cowl to her nose and dry heaved into the cloth, the other hand holding out her glaive defensively in case the cause of those smells should come uncomfortably close.

The village guards challenged them defensively when they came to the fringe of the carnage. Shriveled corpses lay before them like scattered confetti, some burning, all contorted in grotesque positions. Impossibly enough, a few of them held rusty blades in their putrefied grips. Ahnnie's hold on her own weapon tightened at the sight, and then it happened.

One of them grabbed her by the ankle.

She shot up like a firecracker, screaming bloody murder as she stomped and stomped to get it off. The thing was strong, and even worse, it moaned with every slap of its decayed body onto the muddy ground. Its other hand clawed into the dirt to pull the rest of itself closer, but it had barely inched a centimeter when the Iron Bull slammed it away with his hammer like a bat.

"Boss!" he yelled when she didn't stop her wild jumping. "It's gone!"

"It's still on me," she shuddered, and lifted up her boot to show him the decapitated forearm attached to her ankle. Then she screamed again.

The guards looked at each other, and then one of them came up with their sword raised. "Hold still," he instructed Ahnnie, and with a swift slash the limb was split between the thumb and index. It hit the ground with a thick squelch and twitched lightly before going still.

She sank into Evelyn's arms heaving and sobbing. The guard sheathed his sword and looked about their party curiously, wary of the Iron Bull in particular. "What brings you to our village?" he demanded of them, albeit with less of an edge than before.

"Inquisition business," Dorian answered, fingering the symbol on his cloak clasp. "We're here for the rift on the lake."

"Thank the Maker!" The other guard rushed up to his colleague at this and hastily ushered them past the corpses and into the gates. "The mayor could use your assistance; his house is the largest, up on that hill. It's been hell these past few weeks!"

"The corpses are coming from where Old Crestwood used to be," the other guard remarked dourly. "Amount of people we lost back during the Blight, I'm not surprised."

"If you're here, we can finally get this over with. Did the Inquisitor come?"

Dorian smiled and indicated the disconsolate girl behind him with a sidelong glance.

"Oh..."

As they ventured into the village, the distant groans of more undead shambling towards the gate echoed from the darkness, and the guards summarily resumed their positions. The village before them was empty, with every visible entryway on each house boarded up or locked. An occasional guard would stumble across them, but when shown their clasps, would direct them closer to the mayor's house. Only once did there seem to be a hint of civilian life, and that was when a little eye peered at them through the peephole of a boarded window before blinking away into nothing.

They climbed the staircase up the hill and deposited themselves in front of a wooden door. Bull raised a fist and knocked on it three times, then bellowed, "Inquisition!"

The door opened a crack and a mousy middle-aged man scrutinized them carefully, finally resting on Ahnnie. With a start, she stammered, "M-mayor of Crestwood?"

"Inquisitor?" he returned. When she showed him her left palm, he opened the door a bit wider and beckoned them inside. "I apologize for the lack of manners; Mayor Dedrick of Crestwood Village. At your service, despite...everything." When they'd all entered, he shut the door and bolted it several times. "Is there anything I can offer you?" he asked as he turned to them. "Some hot food, or drink?"

"We're fine," Ahnnie assured him as firmly as she could. Her voice still trembled from the shock. "We're only stopping a bit to speak with you."

"Ah," he nodded. With a nervous lick of his lips, he asked next, "Are you...here to stop the undead?"

She wondered if he noticed the little gulp that went down her throat. "Yes. We are."

"The Inquisitor wishes to seal the nearby Fade rift to stop the undead from plaguing you," Evelyn volunteered to explain after noticing her unease. "Do you know of a way to get to it?"

A flash of recognition passed through Dedrick's eyes. "The light on the lake? It's coming from the caves below Old Crestwood. Darkspawn flooded it ten years ago during the Blight, you see. It wiped out the village, killing the refugees we took in..."

"We're aware of the history," Evelyn assured him.

"As for reaching it..." Dedrick gave a sad heave of his shoulders. "It's not possible. The light is too far out, over one of the deepest parts of the water. Worse, the caves there are completely submerged."

Dorian exchanged a glance with Evelyn, to which she responded with a resigned shrug. "Well then, I suppose that leaves us the option of draining the lake," the Tevinter mage decided.

Dedrick jolted as though poked by a cattle prod. "Drain the – there must be some other way!"

"There's not," Bull groused, and the startled mayor appeared even more startled when he seemed to take notice of his largest house guest for the first time. "There's really not. Not unless you're fine with having undead show up at your doorsteps for the next ten years."

"You'd have to evict the bandits in the old fort to use the dam," Dedrick pointed out. "I can't ask you to risk your life!"

"We came prepared," Bull chuckled. "The Commander's got a small troop ready to move out nearby. All we gotta do is send the word."

Mayor Dedrick's eyes flickered over each of them in a silent plea to persuade them otherwise. Ahnnie felt bad, and felt even guiltier when his eyes begged her last, but all she could do was smile comfortingly. "It's the only way to reach the rift."

He looked as though he'd been sucker punched in the stomach, but eventually steeled himself back into regaining composure. "I..." He coughed. "I suppose it must come to this." He reached into his collar and pulled off a chain from around his neck, then handed it to her. "This key unlocks the gate to the dam controls past the fort. Again, you should find the rift in the caves beneath the old village. But, Inquisitor," he hurriedly added, "I would not linger there."

She accepted the key and wrapped the chain around her own neck with a grimace. "I don't intend to."

A/N: Hope everyone had a happy holiday season! My cousin dressed up for Halloween as an Inquisitor we all know and love, so if you wanna check that out, please head to the fic on Ao3 and scroll to the bottom of the latest chapter!

A recap just in case:

1) Google "The Otherworlder Ao3"

2) Click the first link.

3) Click the third story, Exodus.

4) Go to the latest chapter (chapter 9 "Crestwood") using the Chapter Index button (or click Entire Work and scroll to that chapter), then scroll aaalllll the way down until you see =Author's Note= ;3

Also, I am basing Rhys' stance toward Cole on what Cole says when you ask for his past. I misplaced my copy of Asunder so I can't confirm if Rhys still thought of Cole as a friend after Lambert's reveal, but what Cole says: "The last time he [Rhys] saw me, he didn't want to look at me; he saw a monster", sort of implies the opposite, at least from his perspective.