The Inquisitor's Ghost

Chapter 6 – Demon

The first of the Maker's children watched across the Veil

And grew jealous of the life

They could not feel, could not touch

In blackest envy were the demons born

- Erudition 2:1

Ember's body, her thoughts, went cold. Inactive. Immobile.

"T-Tranquil?" She hated how her voice trembled with the force of her terror.

André smiled, almost victoriously at her apparent fright. "That's right. You won't say no to me once you're Tranquil. You'll do everything I ask of you."

Panic licked her spine. "Keep away from me, you templar cur!" she cried, palpable fear lacing the words, and was not surprised when he laughed.

"So much spirit." His cruel smile held as he ran his fingers across the bars. "I want to be the one to break it before it is taken away entirely."

A fury engulfed Ember, freeing her from her paralyzing fear. "Templar swine! I'd kill myself first!"

André just laughed, an ominous sound that chilled her to her bones. Ember's blue-green eyes frantically searched the darkness around the cell for Cole, but she found nothing. Maker help her, she was on her own.

Ember watched with trepidation as the templar reached into his armor, searching for the key to her cell and a slow rolling dread built within her as realization set it.

He is going to rape me, and then the templars are going to make me Tranquil.

Awareness, horrific and frightening, caused her eyes to widen and her body to freeze in terror, a wave of pressure crashing from her throat to her gut.

Oh Maker… don't let this happen… Andraste save me…

Ember's heart was thumping like a rock against her chest, her throat was dry, her breathing sporadic and growing more labored by the second, her body trembling with fear.

Suddenly, a strange sort of calm settled over her, like a warm blanket, and her panic began to fade, her terror ebbing. A thin line of defiance tightened her mouth as her fingers touched the charm that hung from the leather necklace secured around her neck that Cole had made for her – a single star hanging from the top of a half crescent moon.

André will not touch me. The templars will not make me Tranquil. I will not allow it. I will fight. I will fight until my dying breath.

Ember's chin tucked, aquamarine eyes flashing beneath blood-red curls as she watched André insert the key into her cell door. Gathering her courage, Ember quickly ripped the leather necklace from her neck. She wrapped her hands around the ends of the leather band and held tight. She watched as the templar opened her cell door and walked inside.

Adrenaline was pumping through her as she waited until the templar's back was turned to close her cell door behind him. With a quick, deft movement she leapt up to his height and threw her arms around his neck, the leather necklace pressed tight against his Adam's apple. The templar gagged and stumbled backwards. Ember's booted feet climbed the back of his legs to dig into his lower back, and she yanked back on the leather band at his neck with all her strength. The templar began to gasp for breath, his hands clawing at hers and the leather necklace as he swung his body sharply to the right and the left, trying to fling her off of him. Ember held on with all her might, pulling on the leather necklace with all her muscle, leaning back and using her weight.

Moments later, the templar's struggling slowed along with his gasps for breath, and he fell forward to the ground, landing face first on the stone floor, taking Ember down with him. Ember lay on top of him, breathing deeply, still clutching the leather necklace in her hands. The templar beneath her wasn't moving, wasn't breathing.

Trembling, Ember forced herself to her feet and secured Cole's leather necklace back around her neck. She quickly donned her coppery chainmail with her black leather boots that almost reached her thighs. She grabbed the book of poems Cole had gotten for her and stuffed it into her belt at her back. She quickly searched the templar's corpse. She took his dagger and secured it at her hip and his pack around her waist that contained health potions and lyrium. She searched his body until she found the keys to the cells. She ran to her cell door, reaching through the bars, and stuck the key in the lock and turned. The lock fell open and she pulled the lock from the cell door.

And then she was running. Running as fast as she could through the dark and winding hallways of the dungeons of the White Spire. She had no idea where she was or where she was going. All she knew was that she had to get out of there before the templars found her. Cole said the catacombs had tunnels that led out of the White Spire. If she could just reach one before the templars found her, she would be free. Her heart leapt at the word. She would not be made Tranquil. She would be free. It was a small hope, but she clung to it with all her might.

Cole.

The thought of him made her steps falter. She had to find him. She couldn't leave without him. She wanted him to escape with her. She wanted them to be together. She had fallen for him. She'd been trying to make sense of her tangled emotions, but now she knew. She cared for him. After only a month, Cole had somehow managed to situate himself into her heart, becoming someone very special and precious to her.

She would find him. She had to.

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Cole stumbled, shaking and unstable, wandering deeper into the dark depths of the dungeons of the White Spire. The air grew more stale and harder to breathe with each step he took, his surroundings morbid with their dripping walls and lichen-splotched ceilings. Cole fell against the stone wall that lined the dark and dismal hallway he now found himself in, the back of his head connecting with a soft thud. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. It physically hurt to take in each breath as he tried to steady his breathing with deep, calm breaths.

Cole touched his lips. It tingled and burned where she'd kissed him, and he felt it all the way down to his bones. He couldn't find the right words, never having felt anything like what he was experiencing. It was foreign, confusing, and supremely potent. And it was all because of her. He didn't want her to forget. A week from now, or a month, he didn't want to be the only one who remembered this.

His body shook, the darkness within him shifting and swelling, building inside him, threatening to tear free. With her mouth on his he'd been filled with this… this want… this overwhelming need…. the terrifying desire to possess. He didn't understand it, but it terrified him.

Cole groaned and rolled onto his shoulder, letting his warm cheek press against the cold stone wall. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as that familiar feeling crept like a chill over his bones. The darkness was spilling up inside of him. He tried to will it away, tried to push it back down, but it wouldn't go. It seeped into every part of him, trying to take him away.

No. Not now. I won't let you.

He clenched his teeth, terrified of being swallowed up by the darkness and fading away forever. It was like the ground was slowly turning to quicksand under his feet and he was sinking, disappearing, becoming transparent. Terror swept him. He didn't want to be truly lost.

I won't let you take me away from her.

He was trembling. His heart was hammering. A cold sweat was pouring down his face. It almost felt like the shadows in the hall lengthened, like they stretched out toward him, but he tried to evade them.

I belong here. I want to be here. I don't want to leave her.

Cole rolled again until his forehead was pressed against the stone wall. He needed to push the darkness down deep into himself, to control it. His eyes closed and he focused. The cries of the imprisoned mages echoed all around him, but amidst their grief-ridden sobs, a soft sound began to rise over them. It was a slow and haunting tune, and he was humming it. And he remembered it.

Wet, white sheets hanging on a line as a warm breeze dried them under a hot summer sun. Flashes of golden hair peeking out between the ivory linens as the wind blew through them. Honeyed tresses and blue eyes. A sudden feeling of comfort, safety, love… and family.

"I almost didn't hear you approach." A dulcet, feminine voice on the wind. Blue eyes turn to see the tears on his cheeks. Blue eyes see the bruises on his face and arms. Blue eyes become sad. Warm, loving arms are around him, embracing him. A slow, haunting tune falling from lips as she rocks him back and forth.

"Mama… am I a bad person?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Dad says I'm cursed with foul magic."

"You were born with magic, but that does not make you a bad person."

"How do you know?"

"Your heart told me." A warm smile shinning down on him. "It is pure, true, honest and kind. You are good, Cole, perfect just the way you are." Warm, loving arms are around him again. "Remember, the Maker loves you." Doting kisses on wet cheeks. "Mama loves you too, dear heart. Mama loves you."

Cole blinked as the memory fragment started to fade. He tried to catch it, but the memory slipped through his fingers and was soon gone. He breathed, each moment slow and excruciating, until finally it wasn't so bad. After a few more breaths, his breathing slowed, returning to normal. Cole breathed with a relief that was soul deep.

I'm still real.

After a few moments, he was able to collect himself somewhat and he pushed himself away from the wall. Cole stopped abruptly as he heard something in the distance. It was a soft cry. A soft cry for death. He could feel it. A lost and hopeless soul. A burning need rose within him, a need to seek them out and free them from their pain. Cole ran his thumb along the edge of the dagger that was in his hand. Sharp. He could give them a way out. He could help while also preventing himself from becoming nonexistent.

Unable to ignore the siren's call, Cole moved swiftly through the dark hallways of the dungeons to where a templar stood on guard by the door that led to the White Spire Tower. His head kept drooping and then snapping up again. Slowly, Cole walked over to the templar, heart pounding in his chest. He stood inches away, looking into his eyes, and knew the guard saw nothing. He stared right through him.

You don't see me. You won't notice anything I do.

Cole stared into the guard's eyes, concentrating, reaching down into the well of darkness within himself. Way down inside of him, in the darkness he never dared to look, something was there. He tried not to let it frighten him. Instead, he told it to come.

You can't see what I do.

Cole stared into the templar's eyes, so close he could smell his sour breath. Cole embraced the dark power within himself, allowing it to pulse out through his limbs, steeling himself against the fear that came with it. The fear that he was slipping away into nothing. Reaching out, ever so carefully, Cole plucked the keys from the templar's belt. He maintained eye contact the entire time. The man didn't react. The keys jingled, and Cole froze.

You won't see me.

The templar's mind unconsciously fought against him, and Cole concentrated hard, a headache forming, until he could feel the shroud he'd lain over the guard's eyes. He stood in front of the templar, but the man looked right through him.

Cole carefully backed away from the guard, clutching the keys to his chest, watching for any signs of a response. The man didn't blink, didn't react at all. Cole swallowed, forcing the dark power back down, fighting to keep it from taking over. He brought a trembling hand to his sweaty forehead, fighting for control.

Minutes later, Cole was standing in front of a cell door. Behind it was the lost and hopeless soul that was calling out to him. He unlocked the cell door. The slightest click as he turned the key, and then the faintest noise as he pulled the door open. Quickly, Cole slipped inside. As he entered the cell, Cole saw it was an elven girl, no older than fifteen or sixteen. She was cowering in the corner of the tiny cell, curled up in a ball, crying incessantly, her brown hair greasy and stringy around her face.

His chest tightened as he drew close enough to see the girl clearly. All that remained of her blue mage robes was the tattered skirt. The gleam of white was her skin and the remnants of her muslin chemise. Her thin white arms were peppered with black-and-blue marks where fingers had obviously dug into her flesh. Her chemise had been torn away, baring her small chest. Her cheek was swollen, her lip split open, an ugly purple and blue bruise surrounding her eye. Her tattered skirt rode high, and he saw that the pale skin of her inner thighs was caked with blood and something milky-white.

Cole crouched down in front of her, balancing on the balls on his feet. With a suddenness that startled him, she jerked her head up. Her eyes filled with stark terror. She took one look at him and began to scream, shrill and short, interspersed with shallow panting. She dove passed him and stumbled out of her cell and into the dark hallway. She tripped over her torn skirt and fell to the stone floor. She scrambled back away from him in fear until her back hit the stone wall that lined the hallway.

Cole slowly stood and approached her. The instant he moved, she began glanced around wildly, as if she sought help. When he stood over her, she began to whimper. "W-Who are y-you?"

"I am the Ghost of the Spire," he answered as he reached under his leather vest and drew a dagger from its sheath. It was an ornate blade with an elaborate brass hilt carved in the shape of a dragon's head.

She glanced down at the dagger in Cole's hand, her eyes widening in fear. "Don't hurt me! Please don't hurt me!" she cried frantically as she shrank against the stone wall to put distance between them. Tears welled in her eyes. When she looked at him again, her expression was one of complete despair. "Please don't hurt me. I can't take anymore pain."

Cole crouched down in front of her and whispered softly, "I can make the pain and fear go away. You won't have to suffer what was done to you again. You won't have to see what they have in store for you." His words were gentle as the dagger in his hand glinted in the low light.

"W-What do they h-have in store for m-me?" she asked, uncomprehending. For an instant her disoriented eyes seemed to focus on him. "They're going to make me Tranquil, aren't they?" Her voice was as dead as her eyes.

Cole nodded sadly, but didn't respond.

Her eyes fell to the dagger in his hand. "Then I want to die." Her low voice caught on the last word. She was crying as she whispered, "I want you to kill me."

Cole stared down at the dagger in his hand, and for a long time the two of them remained in silence.

"Look into my eyes…"

The woman stiffened, but slowly tilted her head back until her brown eyes met his. Cole raised his dagger. Gently, he placed the serrated edge against the woman's neck. She didn't flinch. In fact, she pressed her neck against the blade, welcoming it.

"Thank you," Cole breathed as he gently dragged the serrated blade across her neck, drawing blood. She gasped in shock, but did not look away. Fathomless blue orbs stared deep into dark brown as he cut deep, the mage's neck gushing red blood down the front of her bare chest and into her torn robes. The knife left her neck and she convulsed, a spurt of bright blood erupting from her mouth. Then, with a final shudder, she collapsed into his arms. Cole stared down at her, watching the life leave her eyes.

Cole slowly lowered her body to the ground and closed her eyes before standing, though he continued to stare down at her. He was only dimly aware of the warm blood covering the blade, his hands, the entire front of his leathers.

He frowned.

This usually made him feel connected, like he belonged in the world. It was typically the only thing that made him feel alive. But it was nothing compared to what he'd felt when he'd put his mouth on Ember's. When he'd done that he'd…

Cole's eyes clenched shut, a muscle working in his clenched jaw. Nothing had ever made him feel more alive. And he knew nothing ever would. In only her eyes was he anchored. In only her was he… real. He just wanted to feel what she made him feel. All the time. From now on. With her, distance wouldn't come. He wanted to share with her, wanted to feel. Wanted to know emotion and connection with her. He wanted-

A soft gasp cut through his thoughts and the silence that surrounded him like a knife.

Cole's chin slowly turned until his eyes collided with wide aquamarine. Cole's heart dropped into his stomach, his breath becoming nonexistent. Standing at the end of the hallway was Ember, staring straight at him. The expression on her face would be forever branded on his memory with a sharpness and clarity that was painful.

Fear, stark and vivid, shone in her wide and alarmed eyes, while the color had drained from her face. That look… it struck him like a physical blow. Acrid shame gripped him, clawing at his throat that was sprayed with fresh blood. Her apparent shock, horror, and hurt ate at him, tore at his insides.

In that moment, Cole felt and saw the full consequence of his actions. Ember was stricken, staring at him as though staring at a strange, unknown, dangerous creature and attempting to make sense of it while also trying to get away from it.

She was afraid of him.

His blood ran cold as a dismal sense of fear crashed over him. He felt a jarring sensation akin to panic and an odd numbness in the vicinity of his heart. Without thinking, Cole rubbed the heel of his palm over his heart, as if that would somehow ease the ache, desperately wanting nothing more than to take it back.

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Ember stood numb, though her body was visibly shaking. There was a furtive tension to the way she stood, as if she was paralyzed by fear and yet desperate to run. She was afraid to breath, afraid that if she did it would mean she was alive and this was not some terrible nightmare.

Her eyes fell to stare, unblinking, at the blood soaked dagger in Cole's hand. Her eyes lifted to stare at the blood on his hands, on his chest, stare at the blood sprayed across the smooth angles of his ghostly white face, stare into the blackness in his eyes that glowed like a devil's.

In that moment, he was the most dangerous creature she'd ever encountered.

The Veil was fragile here, and she could sense the demons, lurking just beyond and eager to enter this world. Demons were drawn to mages, to transform them into terrible abominations. And Cole… the air of danger that clung to him was palpable, undisputable, dark power coming off him in dark potent waves, eyes tangled and unfathomable as a maze in the Underworld. He was not of this world. A devil spun of darkness and fire.

Understanding nearly brought her to her knees. A dizzying sense of disbelief assaulted her, a nausea so strong she thought she might faint. The violent reality of it was paralyzing. She could feel this stark, gnawing terror in the pit of her stomach. It burned, like acid up her esophagus and she felt she'd choke on it.

Some survival instinct, some sense of self-preservation, told her to run. Run like hell. Run and never look back. To get as far away from him as possible.

"Ember… don't… please don't look that way," Cole pleaded softly.

Ember's hand secretly stole toward the dagger she'd taken off the templar that was concealed at her waist. The cold steel made her feel secure and safe, allowing her to keep panic and fear at bay. His eyes followed the movement, recognizing it for what it was: Fear.

They stood, staring at one another, a brittle and heavy silence engulfing the space between them that was so full of tension that it felt like lute cords stretched unbearably thin and just waiting to snap.

Suddenly, Cole cautiously strode towards her, trying to close the distance between them, but moving down the dark hallway warily, as if he was walking on thin ice.

Ember's eyes went wide as saucers and she scrambled backwards, her body bunched with tension, and she extended an arm to ward him off. "Just – just stay right where you are! D-Don't come any closer!" Panic caked her voice, the edges sharp enough to slice through steel.

Cole came to a stop, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his grief. The agony that twisted on his face was difficult to watch, but she steeled herself against it. The silence that ensued was heavy with tension. The coppery scent of blood and the decaying stench of death hung heavy in the air, saturating it. Stunned and sickened, Ember stared at the bright crimson blood that pooled around the elven girl that was slowly crawling towards her as it expanded on the dirty stone ground. As she stared at the poor girl, despair and anger twisted around her heart, wrenching it tightly.

Ember's expression became fierce and hard as it focused on Cole again. "You… you killed her. You… you murdered her." Her eyes kindled, making her fiery curls seem more vibrant. "You… she begged you… begged you not to kill her, and you… you killed her!"

His eyes flickered down to the dead girl lying on the stone. "She wanted to die."

"She was begging you for her life and you took it!"

His face became wracked with grief. "They beg for death not-"

"They?!" she cried in disbelief, her tongue fairly tripping over the word. "Maker's breath! This isn't the first time?!"

Cole stared at the floor, embarrassed and ashamed.

She knew the answer.

Her hand flew to her throat. "Sweet Andraste…"

After a long and painful silence that seemed to suck up all the air, he spoke, "I end their suffering. They see me because they want to die," he explained softly. "The pain isn't too much. I make sure of that."

For a long while, Ember felt paralyzed in mind and body as she stared at him. "Is it blood magic?" she demanded, her voice shaky. She paused and calmed herself. "Do you use blood magic to keep people from remembering you, or even noticing you at all?"

Cole looked perplexed. "I don't know any magic."

"Then why?" she asked, her voice small and strained. "Why do you kill them?"

Cole stood still, holding the wicked-looking dagger that was coating with fresh blood at his side. "I needed to… I need to."

"Needed to. You needed to kill them?"

Cole chewed his lip, an expression that Ember had seen before whenever he was trying to put a difficult thought into words. "There's a pool in one of the lower halls. I go there sometimes," he murmured, appearing lost in thought. "You can float when you're underwater. If you close your eyes, it's like you're floating in nothing. You're surrounded by darkness, and all you can hear is yourself. Everything else is far away."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Cole was quiet for a while. "Sometimes I feel like I'm underwater, and I won't ever get out again. I just keep sinking and sinking, and there's no bottom. The darkness is going to swallow me up. I'm falling into the cracks between what's real and what's not real, and if I don't stop myself I'll be lost there forever. The only way I can stay is to…"

Her heart was pounding in her throat. "Is to… kill people?"

"The moment they die, they look at me. They see me. They know I'm the one that's killed them, and that makes me the most important thing in the world." Cole's gaze flickered to her and she found herself staring squarely into the eyes of oblivion. "I've never been that important to anyone. They return to the Fade remembering me. For just a moment I'm a part of the world again. I'm real. I'm alive. I don't want to be lost-"

"I don't care what you say." Ember's tear-filled gaze sliced to him. "I don't believe you."

Cole looked up at her with wide, uncomprehending eyes. "They were hurting. The dagger lets the hurt out."

"A dagger causes pain and death!"

"I'm helping them." His voice was thick, his eyes large and glistening. "I use the knife to set them free."

"You're not helping them!" she screamed. "You're hurting them! Killing them! There are other ways to help people, but you ignore them all and choose the knife because you like it!" She put her hand to her mouth to stifle a dry sob. "You're a cold-blooded murderer. At best that's what you are. At worst, I don't even want to think about what you might be. You're a monster!"

Cole turned away, as if stricken. He clamped his eyes shut, fighting back a wave of tears.

The guilt, confusion, and disillusionment each shoved against her chest, nearly suffocating her. So desperately did she want to believe him. Whatever he was, she wanted to believe he meant well. But as that poor girl's blood dripped off the end of his dagger to join the pool of it at his feet, she knew she didn't believe it. She felt so mad, hurt and betrayed. She'd refused to see him for what he was because of her foolish attraction to him.

But she could see him for what he was now.

Demons often became confused when they passed through the Veil. They found themselves in a world they had no control over, and no connection to. They sought out such connections, possessing whatever they could see and touch, seeking to make it conform to the world they'd left behind - a world embodied by concepts and emotion rather than immutable reality.

Cole said he killed because he was fading away. As if he lacked a connection to the world, and the killings somehow strengthened it. Blood magic was the manipulation of life energy, the strongest source of mana. Such life energy could provide a demon the connection it needed to prevent it from falling back to the Fade, no matter how temporarily. Cole could influence the minds of others. He could appear invisible to them and also make them forget him. Those abilities were the hallmarks of blood magic. Strange powers fueled by the letting of blood from the victims.

But only a mage could perform blood magic. So either Cole possessed the body of some unfortunate soul and was an abomination, and thus able to use that body's magic to draw the life force from it, or he was a disembodied spirit trying desperately to maintain a connection to this world, his only power the ability to influence the minds of others, most likely bending her thoughts into thinking him harmless.

Ember didn't know which he was. And she didn't care. All she knew was that he was dangerous. Very, very dangerous. He was a murderer, a heartless fiend who killed innocent mages just to feel alive. Was she next? Would he kill her?

Ember bolted. In a flurry she ran through the hall. The stairs leading down to the catacombs appeared around the corner, and she stumbled, practically falling down the steps. Then she almost fell on her face as a tall, dark, dreadfully familiar figure appeared out of thin air in front of her.

Ember shrieked, scrambling madly out of his reach.

"Please…" Cole pleaded, stalking after her. "Don't… don't leave me," he whispered brokenly, like he couldn't bear to see it happen, a hint of desperation and an echo of devastation lacing the softly spoken words.

He was in her space then, leaning into her and her face went a bit paler. Her whole body turned ice cold, then fire hot, before all her blood decided to rush violently in her veins, her accelerating heartbeat thumping loudly in her ears.

"You're my first friend. My only friend." He sighed, his breath ruffling her hair. "You burn so brilliantly. Fiery, gentle, warm. Strong yet soft. A flickering flame in a black pit, bright and shining and beautiful. Lips soft as velvet, skin the scent of fire and ice, warm breath breathing life into me…"

He reached out and captured a scarlet curl between his thumb and forefinger, his expression dark and intense. "I don't want you to go. I don't want you to forget. I… I don't want to return to icy walls of darkness, surrounding, drowning, aching and alone, empty of light and warmth and lips and…" His eyes lingered on her mouth, then rose back to search her eyes. "If you go, dear heart, I want to go with yo-"

"No." That one word echoed against the stone walls that surrounded them.

Ember watched as the life seemed to drain out of Cole.

"I wish I'd never seen you." Her voice was only a whisper of quiet anguish, merging with the stillness around them.

She heard the air leave his body in a loud whoosh and saw the pain fill eyes, contort his pale face as cold, as bleak as death. "You may wish to have never seen me, but I cherish the day I saw you, and everyday since." His voice was grating, so rough, eyes so tortured it hurt staring into them.

The breath left her lungs while a sudden ache burned her throat and her eyes. She was so full of hurt, confusion, and choking fear it was ravaging her. She smothered it, forcing herself to become numb and encased in a frigid block of ice.

She was so cold she wasn't feeling anything.

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Cole felt a strange sense of panic settle in, a nameless fear take hold.

He took one step forward, his hand outstretched, feeling a desperation that he didn't recognize as he watched Ember turn and flee down the stairs to the catacombs, disappearing into the darkness.

His hand fell limply to his side.

Tears burned in his eyes as a terrible grief overwhelmed him.

He stumbled back and hit the stonewall.

There he crouched down, placing his head between his knees and his hands over his head.

She wanted to get away from him.

She was afraid of him.

She thought him a monster.

He lost her.

Lost her forever.

She was gone.

She was never coming back.

He'd never see her again.

She was going to forget about him, just like all the rest.

He was alone.

Again.

All alone in a world that couldn't see him, couldn't remember him.

Anguish, it rippled like a shockwave from his core as a terrifying sense of loss gripped him, making it difficult to breathe.

Cole squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers digging into the back of his skull.

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

Hot-white pain, searing and burning, blistering, tearing, consuming.

It was unbearable.

He could feel the light she'd placed in the vacant hole of emptiness inside of him go out, returning once more to nothing but cold, bleak blackness.

The darkness within him smiled a sinister smile as it slowly rose to claim his soul, devouring it, leaving him hollow, aching, and alone.

Author's Note: This chapter was heavily influenced by the book Dragon Age: Asunder written by David Gaider, the head writer of the Dragon Age games. The part where Cole says he sometimes feels like he's underwater was taken straight from the book. That is my favorite quote from the book and I just had to include it. It's such a great description of who Cole is.