Cassandra was venting her frustrations on a practice dummy. Or at least, on what remained of a practice dummy. She made a disgusted noise as she tossed the destroyed dummy aside and replaced it with another.

Ruya watched her for a minute. "I think you need practice dummies made of sturdier stuff."

The blade sent splinters flying. "That would be nice."

"Like maybe iron."

The look Cassandra gave her betrayed a momentary amusement. She started to turn back to the dummy, the sighed, and lowered the sword. "Did I do the right thing?" She ran a hand over the flat of the blade. "What I have set in motion here could destroy everything I have revered my whole life. One day, they may write about me as a traitor, a madwoman, a fool." She attacked the dummy again. "And they may be right."

There were no easy answers to be found. "What does your faith tell you?"

"I believe you are innocent." Cassandra brought the blade up in an underhanded swing. "I believe more is going on here than we can see." The next swing would have taken the head off a man. "And I believe no one else cares to do anything about it. They will stand in the fire and complain that it is hot." The blade got stuck a moment in the side of the dummy, and Cassandra grunted as she pulled it out. "But is this the Maker's will?" She rolled her shoulders and resumed the combat stance. "I can only guess."

Around them, other soldiers were practicing and training. She saw a few men in templar armor leading others in various drills. "What's going to happen now?"

"Now we deal with the Chantry's panic over you before they do even more harm." Cassandra ran through a drill that had her blocking the blows of an imaginary opponent. "Then we close the Breach. We are the only ones who can. After that, we find out who is responsible for this chaos, and we end them." She lifted the blade, and focused once more on the dummy. "And if there are consequences to be paid for what I have done, I pay them. I only pray the price is not too high."

At least she'd have good company when the Chantry finally led her to the chopping block. No. Orlais favored gallows. They'd all hang together. "You didn't have any choice."

"Didn't I?" Cassandra lowered the blade. "My trainers always said, 'Cassandra you are too brash. You must think before you act.' I see what must be done, and I do it. I see no point in running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. But I misjudged you in the beginning, did I not? I thought the answer was before me, clear as day. I cannot afford to be so careless again."

"It wasn't like you had no reason to suspect me." A single mage, apparently stepping out of the Fade as the lone survivor? If she hadn't seen the vision at the temple, she'd likely be suspecting herself as well.

"I was determined to have someone answer for what happened. Anyone." Cassandra set down the blade, and walked to a bench to grab a waterskin. She drank, then turned back to look at Ruya. "You've said you believe you're chosen. Does that mean... you believe in the Maker?"

She wouldn't say she believed she was chosen, but she had to acknowledge the possibility. "I believe He exists."

"That's..." Cassandra nodded approvingly. "Comforting. Surely the Maker put us both on this path for a reason. Now it simply remains to see where it leads us."

#

There was an argument happening in front of the Chantry. Templars stood on one side, mages on the other.

"Your kind killed the Most Holy"

"Lies." The mage sneered at the templar. "Your kind let her die."

"Shut your mouth, mage." The templar reached for his sword.

Cullen stepped between the combatants. "Enough."

"Knight-Captain." The templar slammed his sword back into its sheath.

"That is not my title." Cullen's glare had both sides backing off. "We are not templars any longer. We are all part of the Inquisition."

For a moment, the situation looked settled. And then Roderick's voice drifted over the crowd. "And what does that mean, exactly?"

"Back already, Chancellor?" Cullen rolled his eyes. "Haven't you done enough?"

"I'm curious, Commander, as to how your Inquisition and its 'Herald' will restore order as you've promised." Roderick gestured, attempting to play the crowd.

"Of course you are." Cullen merely smirked, and ignored the question. "Back to your duties, all of you." Under his gaze, the crowd dispersed. Roderick tried to enter the Chantry, and Cullen moved to stand in his path, arms folded.

Ruya smiled to herself. Roderick was a loud-mouth, but it was clear from the look on his face that he knew he was outmatched. He settled for just glaring at the armored former templar. Cullen glared right back, and then his face softened slightly as he saw her approach. He gestured. "Mages and templars were already at war. Now they're blaming each other for the Divine's death."

Roderick sneered. "Which is why we require a proper authority to guide them back to order."

"Who, you?" Cullen actually sounded amused at the notion. "Random clerics who weren't important enough to be at the Conclave?"

"The rebel Inquisition and its so-called 'Herald of Andraste?'" Roderick was actually bristling. "I think not."

She looked him over. "So far, you're the only one who's insisting we can't work together."

"We might, if your Inquisition would recognize the Chantry's authority." Roderick started to step around Cullen, and the bigger man shifted just enough to block him again.

"There is no authority until another Divine is chosen." Cullen's glare had Roderick taking a step backwards.

"In due time." Roderick gestured at her. "Andraste will be our guide, not some dazed wanderer on a mountainside."

Ruya shook her head and decided to ignore him. She shifted so she was facing Cullen. "How widespread is the violence between mages and templars?"

He sighed. "Impossible to say."

"Your organization flouting the Chantry's authority will not help matters."

Cullen didn't bother to respond to Roderick's words, and continued to address Ruya. "With the Conclave destroyed, I imagine the war between mages and templars has renewed. With interest."

"The mages and templars are fighting even though we don't know what really happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes?"

"Exactly why all this should be left to a new Divine." Roderick gestured emphatically. "If you are innocent, the Chantry will establish it as so."

Cullen stepped forward, forcing Roderick to take another step back. And in doing so, put himself between Ruya and Roderick. "Or will be happy to use someone as a scapegoat."

"You think nobody cares about the truth? We all grieve Justinia's loss."

"But you won't grieve if the Herald of Andraste is conveniently swept under a carpet."

Ruya sighed. The bickering was getting them nowhere. "Well, let's hope we find solutions, and not a cathedral full of chancellors."

"The stuff of nightmares." Cullen's lips twitched just slightly.

"Mock if you will." Roderick threw up his hands. "I'm certain the Maker is less amused." He stalked off.

#

"Greetings, Herald of Andraste. How fares your quest to seal the Breach?"

Ruya smiled at Mother Giselle. "I'm doing everything within my power." She wished she had a clearer idea of just what that power truly was.

The older woman's face was sympathetic. "A task such as closing the Breach is a heavy burden. I hope you do not carry it alone. We remember Andraste, but Andraste did not carry the Chant of Light alone. She had generals, advisors... even her husband, for a time. Do everything within your power..." She laid a hand on Ruya's shoulder. "But remember those who would help you.

"I appreciate your insight, Mother Giselle."

"Take it for whatever it is worth. You walk a difficult path, and there is little enough I can do to aid you. In any case, I pray this Inquisition proves less brutal than its predecessor."

It wasn't the first time someone had mentioned the original Inquisition. She'd read of it, but not in depth. "Can you tell me about the original Inquisition?"

"The original Inquisition was formed after the First Blight, well before the Chantry as we know it. The Inquisitors were hunters, zealots who tracked and killed cultists and dangerous mages. As Andraste rose to power, the Inquisition came into her service. Instead of hunting those who would do harm, the Inquisitors spread the Chant of Light by force."

Why the Inquisition then, and not something new? "This is a dark chapter of history for the Divine to revisit."

"Do you know what impresses me most about the original Inquisition? They fought horrific battles, killed and died for their cause..." Mother Giselle gestured. "And when it was time, they put their swords away. Perhaps the name was Divine Justinia's message: That when the Inquisition is needed, it will strike without mercy. But when its work is done, it will put its sword away."

An interesting notion. Ruya stood there a moment, considering it. Perhaps the Divine had always intended this to be temporary. Or perhaps she had something else in mind entirely. "Is there anything I can do to help you or your people?"

"My healers would benefit from more supplies. We have run short of even common goods with so many wounded. If you could deliver this list and the items on it to Quartermaster Threnn, she could get us what we need. It may not seem like much, but it would enable my healers to save many lives."

"Farewell, Revered Mother."

"Until next time."

#

She opened the door to find Josephine engaged in an argument with an Orlesian nobleman. Try as she might, she could never quite get used to those masks.

"The Inquisition cannot remain, Ambassador, if you can't prove it was founded on Justinia's orders."

"This is an inopportune time, Marquis. More of the faithful flock here each day." She looked up at Ruya, and gestured. "But allow me to introduce you to the brave soul who risked her life to slow the magic of the Breach. Ser Trevelyan, may I present the Marquis DuRellion, one of Divine Justinia's greatest supporters.

He gave her a nod of greeting. "And the rightful owner of Haven. House DuRellion lent Justinia these lands for a pilgrimage. This 'Inquisition' is not a beneficiary of this arrangement."

She returned the nod, and gave him a curious look. "This is the first I've heard of Haven having an owner outside the Chantry."

"My wife, Lady Machen of Denerim, has claim to Haven by ancient treaty with the monarchs of Ferelden. We were honored to lend its use to Divine Justinia. She is..." He caught himself, and sighed. "She was a woman of supreme merit. I will not let an upstart Order remain on her holy grounds."

He couldn't possibly be sugggesting... She frowned. "People have been injured. You can't just turn them out onto the snow."

"And who benefits if they stay?" he retorted.

"Divine Justinia, Marquis." Josephine's voice was sharp and firm. "The Inquisition - not the Chantry - is sheltering the pilgrims who mourn her."

He stared at her for a moment. "Why is the Chantry ignoring the faithful?"

"Because it remains in shock." He sighed, and she put a comforting hand on his shoulder as she continued. "We face a dark time, Your Grace. Divine Justinia would not want her passing to divide us. She would, in fact, trust us to forge new alliances to the benefit of all, no matter how strange they might seem."

"I'll think on it, Lady Montilyet. The Inquisition might stay in the meanwhile." He gave them both a bow before departing.

She watched him go before turning back to Josephine. If her memory of the map was correct, they were currently in Ferelden, not Orlais. "Do the DuRellions actually have a claim on this place?"

"His Grace's position is not so strong as he presents it. Despite their Fereldan relations, the DuRellions are Orlesian. If the marquis wishes to claim Haven, Empress Celene must negotiate with Ferelden on his behalf. Her current concerns are a bit larger than a minor property disputes."

And given feelings between the two nations, it was likely negotiations would not get far. "I apologize for the intrusion. I didn't realize you were meeting with the marquis."

"You did little harm. In truth, the debate was most beneficial as practice for those to come."

"You expect more people in Haven?" There were already dozens more than there had been before she'd left for the Hinterlands. She'd been expecting numbers to go in the opposite direction.

"Undoubtedly. And each visitor will spread the story of the Inquisition after they depart. An ambassador should ensure the tale is as complimentary as possible."

Ruya gave a formal bow. "The Inquisition is lucky to have you as an advocate, Lady Montilyet."

"Thank you. Let us hope so. Thedas's politics have become..." She searched for a polite word. "Agitated of late. I hope to guide us down smoother paths. But please, excuse me. I've much work to do before the day is done."

#

She entered the war room to find an ongoing discussion. Josephine nodded to her. "Having the Herald address the clerics is not a terrible idea."

Cullen immediately started shaking his head. "You can't be serious."

Josephine shifted her writing board slightly. "Mother Giselle isn't wrong: at the moment, the Chantry's only strength is that they are united in opinion."

"And we should ignore the danger to the Herald?" Leliana stepped towards the table.

"Let's ask her." Josephine pointed her pen at Ruya.

They wanted her to address the Chantry. Maybe they hadn't noticed that big staff she carried. "I'm more concerned this won't actually solve any problems."

"I agree." Cullen rested his hands on his sword hilt. "It just lends credence to the idea that we should care what the Chantry says."

Cassandra stepped forward. "I will go with her. Mother Giselle said she could provide us names? Use them."

"But why? This is nothing but a -"

"What choice to we have, Leliana?" Cassandra gestured at the map. "Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the Breach. Use what influence we have to call the clerics together. Once they are ready, we will see this through."

#

The wagon ride into Val Royeaux was not the most comfortable journey. On the second day, Cassandra gave her an appraising look. "It occurs to me I don't actually know much about you."

Ruya shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

"I'm..." Cassandra leaned back. "Not sure. Where are you from?"

"The Circle of Magi at Ostwick, at least until the rebellion began." She smiled.

"Yes, I suppose that..." Cassandra nodded. "Would have required you to stay on the move. Tell me, do you consider the Free Marches your home? Are you eager to go back?"

Maybe once everything was settled back down. Until then... "Wherever I am is home enough for me."

Cassandra smiled. "That's how I feel now, after years of tending to business for the Divine."

"I'd like to get to know you better." Especially if they were going to keep working together.

"There's..." Cassandra looked down at her hands, which were fidgeting. "Not much to know."

Ruya laughed. "You're being modest?"

"Do you think me a braggart?" Cassandra frowned.

"No. I think you're interesting."

She sighed. "As you wish. My name is Cassandra Pentaghast, daughter of the royal house of Nevarra, seventy-eighth in line for the Nevarran throne. I joined the Seekers of Truth as a young woman, and was with the Order until they withdrew from the Chantry. I remained as the Divine's Right Hand, carrying out her order to form the Inquisition - and here we are." Cassandra shrugged. "That's all there is to know, my lady."

"There are a few Pentaghasts in my family tree," Ruya said.

Varric raised an eyebrow. "So you and the Seeker are related then?"

Ruya shook her head. "Both the Pentaghasts and the Trevelyans are large families. I'm related to most of the nobility in the Free Marches. Your Sebastian Vael and I are related through my great grandmother on my father's side, and one of my maternal great grandmothers was an Amell." She shrugged. "Go back a couple ages you'll probably find a Tethras in there. What about you, Solas? Any family to speak of?"

"Not particularly."