Here we are, three years later and I'm staring out into the distance. I fought Corypheus and won. I lost Solas, but I got the feeling he would leave anyway. Everything is... better. At my insistence I crafted the Templars into something better, I turned them into the Inquisition again and soon we're going to have to lay down our banner to be something else. Like the old Inquisition did, but when that happens who will be my side?

Lelianna is going to be the Divine, I trust her now gentle hand. Dorian's going back to Tevinter to try and fix things on his own, and he doesn't want me to meddle and wants all the credit for his work. Cassandra is going to be hard at work in the Chantry... and people just keep leaving to find their way. Sera and Bull are staying behind, they are wanderers anyway, but I'm glad I have them by my side still.

Vivienne says that she's staying, because someone has to remind me to wear shoes to meet the various dignitaries. Varric's going back to Kirkwall, and I'm pretty sure Hawke is still at Weishaupt. Cole... nobody can ever tell what Cole is going to do next, but he said that he wants to help people still, and Skyhold was the one holding up the sky or something. I believe him, because some days I still see the Fade bleed through into my every day. I see fantastic sights and historic places as I walk.

It's The Anchor's fault and I know it. It was supposed to keep me in reality but it's a thing from the Fade. Maybe soon I will be too. All I know is that with every rift I seal I spent more and more time sleeping afterward. It wasn't so bad, but the pain just kept driving me to exhaustion. I don't think that it'll kill me, but The Veil is trying to correct itself after so many holes. I take to mean that my work is closer and closer to done.

The world is changing around me, and every time I seal a rift and train Templars the right way, I take more power from the Chantry. I've told no one my true goals, and they've only recently come to me, but I'm going to bite the hand that feeds corruption in this world. I'm going to train the Templars, I'm going to keep the Circles destroyed, and with Lelianna wanting to change the Chantry they're not going to be stable anymore.

The Templars won't be leashed like Cullen was, and the Mages will no longer be oppessed. Elves everywhere will now have a voice, and I put Briala in a place to guarantee this. I wield so much power now, though. I'm worried that the Inquisition will become the new Chantry, so I'm going to promise nothing but acceptance for everyone. Mages, Templars, Trans People, Elves, Tevinters, because I can't allow the sacrifices of so many be unpaid for.

I'm going to miss Dorian though. There were moments where I would want to exercise my power and hurt someone, but I thought of what he'd said about the Magistrates in Tevinter. No. Never again. Now though, he's facing his own demons and they aren't all literal. He's already said goodbye, and I watched him go for as long as I could. Elf eyes may be bragged about, but it felt all too short as I watched him vanish into the horizon. Maybe I miss that heretical historian already.

Another game of Wicked Grace happened, but Dorian was absent. I won, for once. I think Josephine knew that I needed a win, but I think I just know how to push her buttons now. Everything has come a long way from the beginning of this story.

Varric's threatened to steal my journals for notes when he writes about me. Haven't caught him yet but he's been talking to Sera and I know she's still reading them. I keep finding doodles of inappropriate things on the edges of the pages. I guess I could say yes, just to know what Varric thinks of my terrible writing. I may write it myself.

Nah, I can never remember what I said at any time during the time I was the Herald. I don't know if I want him to know that I had no idea what I was doing the whole time, nor do I want the world to know that either. I don't want them to know about Therinfall's true tale. Sometimes I still hear the Envy demon's words on the wind as it crosses the mountains to whatever next place they land. I wonder if I could be a nomad now, but enough people have seen me that I doubt I could get away with it.

So I guess I'll stay on course. Not much choice in this is there? The next fight is the Chantry, but I suppose I can rest a while on my laurels, let myself be just another tired soldier after a war. Most go home though, and Wycombe...

My Keeper has sent me many letters, all sickly sweet and dripping with manipulation. I throw them out when I get them, because they still call me 'she'. I saved the world and I'm not I've always been in her eyes. I know I shouldn't want her appreciation or her kindness, but still I want it. I want to hear that I'm the best of her clan and that I did the best job with the skills she gave me. I want to please her as myself.

Wycombe is gone too, they destroyed most of the alienage. A lot of elves sent me letters telling me that my friends there had died, but I felt nothing. I was numb to the pain of more loss and suffering.

I find myself watching the sunset now and wondering what will be left of me in the time to come. I think my old self died in Haven with the avalanche. I'm so tired of fighting, but I think that I have many places to go before I sleep and things to fix before I rest.

I suppose that since this is the last page of the beaten old book I'd been using as a journal that it's only fitting that it contains the last chapter of fighting The Breach and Corypheus. I wonder if I've always been fighting...

But I suppose this is goodbye to this ratty old journal. Josephine will want something better and probably with a better cover for me to write what happens next. I think I will have Varric have this journal for notes. I want everyone to know now, now that the fighting is over and things are good. I want my friends to know who I am and what I stood for back then, even if I do become as corrupt as the Chantry.

I suppose this is goodbye, whoever reads this in the days to come. Goodbye, and I pray that Ghilan'nain guides our paths so that they may cross again. May Fen'Harel never catch your scent and Mythal protect us to the best of her ability. Maker guide our paths that they may be light, and Andraste watch over us. Wherever all these gods or people or whatever they are now, may they walk me and you on a path of light.

(Tear stains dot the page and smear the ink in many places)

A/N: I hope you had as much fun as I did with this series. Thank you for all the comments and kudos and reblogs. I never really expected much of any praise or anyone to read it and I realized how much I missed writing FanFiction and writing in general. So, once again, thank you all for the support for the series.