The Inquisitor's Ghost

by nothelping

She met him in the dungeons of the White Spire. She was the only one who could see him, remember him. Five years later, and Cole was back in her life, appearing out of thin air, just like the ghostly apparition he was, tempting her with something she could never have. Because every mage knew: Never take a demon into your soul. You'll change yourself forever.

25. Chapter 25 – Abelas

The Inquisitor's Ghost

Author's Note: This chapter has a soundtrack: Run by Jasmine Thompson.

Chapter 25 – Abelas

Now her hand is raised

A sword to pierce the sun

With iron shield she defends the faithful

Let chaos be undone

- Victoria 1:3

At the Temple of Mythal in the Arbor Wilds, the Inquisitor lay face down in the grass, her body covered in bruises and gashes and sweat. She had no mana, no focus, and soon no more blood. But she didn't feel any pain, just absolute numbness.

Ember sucked in a breath, inadvertently taking in grass, dirt, and a bug into her mouth. With a strength she didn't think she had, she managed to push herself to her knees. Colors flashed before her eyes and she groaned when she felt the ribs that were most assuredly broken. She could hear someone screaming her name, but the sound was overpowered by the incessant ringing in her ears. She blinked several times to clear the dots that painted her vision. She turned her chin to the side and spit cold, bitter-tasting blood from her mouth. She staggered to her feet, the movement excruciating, and the dizziness in her battered head made her nauseous.

Deafening explosions of grenades and magic came from the battle raging around her. She stared around herself, trying to make sense of the images that swirled around her like fog: Morrigan in the distance fighting Abelas in front of the Well of Sorrows. Cassandra passed out on the ground, bleeding freely, barely breathing. Solas shooting spell after spell at Samson to keep the Red Templar leader from getting close enough to run her through with his sword and obtaining vengeance for the death of his sister.

But none of that mattered.

All that mattered was…

Her head turned, the world blurring for a second. Her vision cleared. Her breath stalled. Her heart plummeted.

A short distance away Cole was on his knees, thrashing from side to side with his hands pressed against his temples, as if he was fighting an unseen enemy inside his head, warding off invisible blows. What she could see of his face was contorted; he was trying to draw breath and scream in pain at the same time.

And standing before him, with red glowing hands extended toward Cole, was Livius Erimond, a Venatori magister working for Corypheus. He was using blood magic on Cole. He was hurting him. He was torturing him.

"Stop!" she shrieked – panicked, terrified, furious - her legs barely able to hold her weight from where she stood a few yards away. "If he dies, you will be next!"

Those black eyes shifted to her, malevolence and mirth gleaming. "But he will still be a demon bound to Corypheus," Erimond answered coolly with an evil smile perched on his face. "I have bound so many before and I will bind him too, even if it's the last thing I do!"

Alarm shot like a thousand sharp needles through her. Her face drained of color, her body swayed, her whole world tilting sideways as if it was trying to tip her off as she suddenly realized he was using the binding ritual on Cole!

The Inquisitor went a little crazy then, red rimming her vision when she saw the red glow around the magister's hands brighten and blood began seeping from Cole's eyes, ears and nose, running along his arms and dripping from his elbows onto the ground.

Everything— everything living inside her— slammed to a stark, shuddering stop and then died when his shaggy blonde head fell back and he screamed.

That sound… it would haunt her to her grave.

Everything was forgotten, swept away in an internal storm of fear, hatred, fury, and mindless violence. Her eyes flashed white-hot lightning as she thrust one hand forward and a large forearm with metaled gauntlets appeared in the air over the magister's head, shooting down to latch onto Erimond's right shoulder.

Those black eyes shot to her in surprise, utterly shocked that she was able to use magic, rightfully frightened of what she was about to do to him.

A deranged sort of madness lurked in her eyes as she thrust her other hand forward and another arm shot down from out of thin air to latch onto Erimond's left shoulder. Stark horror was written all over his face, murder all over hers as she ripped her hands apart and the hands holding his shoulders yanked in opposite directions, tearing Erimond's body in half, right down the middle, as if he were made of parchment.

Ember's legs immediately gave out as all strength left her and she crumpled to the grass in a heap. With her legs bent behind her at an odd angle and her upper body lying on its side on the ground, she watched the magic that gripped Cole fade.

As if in slow motion, Cole fell forward, tumbling toward the earth to land face down in the ground, his body lathered with blood and twitching as if electrocuted.

Her eyelashes fluttered, fighting to stay conscious. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Solas racing after Samson as the Red Templar made his escape. She saw Cassandra still on the ground, but drinking a health potion. She saw Morrigan drinking from the Well of Sorrows, taking its knowledge away from Corypheus.

But none of that mattered.

All that mattered was…

Unable to find the strength to stand, Ember dug her fingers into the grass and pulled herself across the field. She dragged herself inch by inch until she was beside Cole's unmoving body. Blood, sweat, and dirt had mingled on her face by the time she reached his side.

Ember gently turned Cole over onto his back, fearing the worst. Her heart clenched, a sob catching in her throat as she stared down into his face that was a bloody mask. She couldn't even make out his features. His muscles convulsed in agony, tiny whimpers coming from him as he writhed from side to side on the grass.

Her hand trembled as it rose to her bloodless lips, the image of his face and body bathed in so much of his own blood blurring with the tears filling her eyes. "Maker's breath," she gasped against her quaking fingertips, her voice tight and thick. "What has he done to you?"

Cole blinked, and when he opened his eyes, he did it with difficulty, as though his eyelids were very, very heavy. "Hu… hu… hurts." The pained little whimper crucified her ears.

Ember's hands were fluttering urgently over Cole's bloody face, over his spasming stomach, his chest that was having trouble rising and falling. "What?" she asked, barely able to hear him.

"Every… where…" Another agonized, weak whimper fell out of his mouth as he writhed on the ground in torment.

"Lie still, Cole! Please… please lie still!" she cried frantically, a terrible powerlessness filling her with a sickening horror that turned her flesh to ice. "I don't know how to heal! Dammit, I don't know how to heal! I don't… I'll get health potions… I… there's a healer back at the camp… I'll… I'll…" she trailed off when he shook his head.

"…don't get…" He winced as his throat worked. "…too close…"

Her eyes widened. "W-What?"

"Get… back…" his voice trailed off into a moan of pain, his body wracked by convulsions.

She reached for his hand, not understanding. His shaking fingers that were soaked in his own blood closed around hers hard enough to bruise.

"Run… from… me…" His breath rasped from between his lips, his face going paler by the second. "Am… broken… bound…"

Her blurred vision grew worse while a rushing filled her ears. "I'm not going anywhere."

Cole's mouth struggled to find words. "Please…" His eyes closed in pain, opened again, beseeching and fearful. "Don't want to… hurt you…"

She shook her head fiercely, tears flying off her cheeks and chin with the sharp movements. "I won't leave you." She brushed the sweaty blonde strands that were dripping crimson from his face, her eyes wet and shimmering as she uttered softly, "Wherever there is you, there will be me too. Right?"

His muscles tightened, clenched, before convulsing in torturous jerks. Whimpers of pain through clenched teeth spilled out of him. His eyes snapped open, wide and bloodshot. "Can't hide! It's in my skin! It's in my skin!" he shrieked and started clawing at his own arms, tearing bloody streaks in his skin, screaming, "Get it out! Get it out!"

She gripped his arms and pressed them into the grass at his sides to stop him from peeling off his skin, but he didn't suspend motion for an instant. He jerked, twitched, and then convulsed one last time before his eyes rolled back in their sockets and his lids fluttered before falling deathly still.

"Oh, Maker! Cole!" Her harsh cry sounded hoarse and stricken and grievously bewildered. "COLE!"

A sob broke free of her lips, feeling weak, worthless, utterly useless. She was trapped in a terrifyingly black void of wretched helplessness. She could feel her heart pounding in wild fear. It throbbed in her chest, her head—thundered in her ears. She'd never felt so hopelessly helpless in her entire life - not since she was eight-years-old and strung up by chains to the rafters of the family barn and repeatedly whipped by her father for being born a mage.

She noticed hazily that both Cole and the world around her began to fog in and out. Her head ached something fierce, bright balls of pain propelling themselves at the backs of her eyelids. She bowed her head over his body. She was slowly bleeding out from a thousand cuts and her head felt so very heavy on her shoulders.

Unable to hold herself upright anymore, she slowly crumbled forward, the side of her head coming to rest on his chest. Her blood-red curls spilled all around her, covering his chest and throat, the dark red color of her hair mixing seamlessly with the blood pouring out of him. His warm blood pressed sticky to her cheek and chin that began to quiver as she heard his moans echoing inside his chest, his breathing ragged and unsteady and growing shallower with each struggled breath.

Her heart wrenched painfully, fear and desperation mounting within her. Everything grew painfully still – Cole's chest, her breath, the world around them. In that long moment of complete stillness, oblivion hovered, waiting for her to give into it and let unconsciousness take her away.

After what felt like a lifetime, there was a sudden movement in her periphery vision followed by a man's curse and a dizzying blur of movement before someone was turning her over and lifting her into their arms.

"I got you Inquisitor," she heard Blackwall's voice whisper down to her. "The cavalry is here."

Ember's head lagged to the side, the muscles in her neck suddenly so weak she couldn't hold her head upright even when leaning against Blackwall's shoulder.

"Co…le…" the name was nearly inaudible.

Blackwall spoke softly down at her, "Don't worry, Bull's got him."

"Help… Cole." Her eyes rolled back into her head. "Nothing else… m-matters."

Nothing else matters, Ember repeated—though only inside her head where a strange tumbling darkness was gathering, closing around her like a cold mist that began to take her consciousness from her.

And then everything faded to black as Blackwall leapt through the Eluvian with her in his arms.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"With an Eluvian, Corypheus could cross into the Fade in the flesh," Leliana stated grimly in the War Room.

Cullen asked, "What happens when Corypheus enters the Fade?"

Morrigan replied haughtily, "Why, he will gain his heart's desire and take the power of a god. Or, and this is more likely, the lunatic will unleash forces that tear the world apart."

"But we destroyed the Eluvian at the Temple of Mythal," Josephine retorted.

Cullen stated, "Yes. So all that remains is to find Corypheus."

Leliana frowned. "We've been looking for his base since all this began, with no success."

"I think I may be able to help you look," Morrigan provided.

"I want every source we have looking for Corypheus' base," the Inquisitor stated. "Meanwhile, I want our soldiers looked after. They just returned to Skyhold from the Arbor Wilds. I want them ready to march when we find the base."

Cullen looked to her, "Are we prepared for an attack on Corypheus's base?"

"I can match the darkspawn magister's dragon," Morrigan stated with unwavering confidence. "As for matching Corypheus… that is up to you, Inquisitor."

Ember looked down at the mark on her left hand. "Believe me, I know."

And with that, Ember turned and left the War Room wearing her superior hunter rogue armor. A few minutes later and she was walking out into the garden. Within seconds, her legs collapsed and she fell unceremoniously into a lone bench.

An unsteady hand lifted to her brow, a faint tremble shaking her. Exhaustion, nerves, and stress. She hadn't slept in days, barely eaten, sick with worry about Cole. He was still unconscious at the infirmary, had been since they'd travelled through the Eluvian from the Temple of Mythal to Skyhold.

Now, three days later, she was nearly losing her mind with concern. She couldn't bear another day of sitting at his bedside, watching his unconscious face, praying for him to wake up. She couldn't endure another restless night of sleep in the uncomfortable wooden chair beside his bed where she'd spent the past three nights.

She'd ordered every healer across the Orlesian Empire to Skyhold, even going so far as having Leliana's agents drag some of them whether they were willing to help or not. But none had been able to help him. She'd then had Leliana track down Rhys and Evangeline and strongly suggested they come to Skyhold to help Cole. Leliana's agents had found them and they were now escorting the ex-Knight Captain of the White Spire and Senior Enchanter who was known for his unrivaled healing abilities. A family trait, she assumed since he was Wynne's son. She could only pray to the Maker that they would get here in time and help Cole.

Ember scrubbed her face with her hands, her eyes feeling gritty. She was still so badly shaken by what had happened at the Temple of Mythal that when she thought of it she couldn't keep her shivering limbs still. She had been so afraid he was dead. There had been so much blood.

Her mouth trembled, cold and shivery like the rest of her because she still—still couldn't shrug off those horrifying seconds when she'd thought that Cole had died at her feet.

The mere thought left a gaping hole in her chest. The breath left her lungs, while a sudden ache burned her throat. She stared down at her right palm, which still pulsed with the reassuring beat of Cole's heart from when she'd laid it against his bleeding chest when they'd laid him on a cot in the infirmary.

Ember closed her eyes and saw the deep, blue chasms of Cole's eyes when he'd opened them and looked into her face. And his eyes had been too dark—as black as deep caverns hollowed into his skull. "Dear heart—get away from me… please…" he'd mouthed weakly, then he'd closed his eyes again and hadn't opened his eyes or spoken since.

The past few days had been the worst—very worst she'd ever experienced in her entire life. And she'd experienced some of the worst humanity had to offer.

"You're in the wrong place, Inquisitor."

Ember started, jumping to her feet, spinning around to find the old blind woman who sold flowers by the stables standing right beside her. Ember's voice cracked as her lips tumbled out a hushed, "I'm sorry?"

"You're in the wrong place," the old woman repeated, her eyes glossed over in a milky-white, her white hair frizzled. "He is not here."

"Oh… ugh… thank you," Ember replied, wondering if she was talking about Cole.

"Here, drink this," the old woman said as she thrust a glass of what looked like tea into her hands.

Ember took the glass with a quiet thank you and took a sip. It was tea with something else, something that tasted medicinal.

"You should spend every moment with that strange young man," the old woman muttered, giving her an odd smile that seemed sad, almost pitying. "You don't have much time left."

For a split second, the woman's white eyes flashed an unnatural yellow color that looked familiar, but it had happened so fast Ember wondered if she'd imagined it.

"Who are you?" Ember asked, suddenly very suspicious.

The old woman laughed, not sounding so old all of a sudden. "I am a fly in the ointment. I am a whisper in the shadows. I am also an old, old woman. More than that you need not know."

"Okayyy…" Ember drawled in confusion as she watched the old woman laugh at herself as she walked away.

Ember sighed, running a hand over her tightly-coiled, red springy curls as she walked out of the garden and cut through the throne room, sipping from the glass in her hands. She took the stairs heading out of the throne room two at a time, heading for the infirmary.

"No," Solas rejected sharply with a hard slash of his hand as he crossed the grounds in front of the stairs leading out of the throne room, right in front of her.

"But you like demons!"

Her glass shattered against the stone steps, but she didn't care. All she could do was look down at the man walking beside Solas not five feet away from her. She could hardly believe her eyes.

It was Cole.

He was alive. He was awake. She couldn't believe it, but the proof of it was standing right in front of her. Six feet of long, lanky male, on his feet for the first time in days. He still looked like death, though. Ember suppressed the need to shudder. His face was still drawn by the ravages of the torture he'd endured and the binding spell that had nearly killed him.

Solas gritted out, "I enjoy the company of spirits, yes, which is why I don't abuse them with bindings."

"It isn't abuse if I ask!" Cole choked out.

"Not always true," Solas responded jerkily. "Also, I do not practice blood magic, which renders this entire conversation academic."

The depthless feeling of relief at seeing Cole awake and seemingly recovered was replaced with a nerve-singing warning of apprehension. She found herself rushing down the steps toward them, barely able to hold herself back from throwing herself into Cole's arms. "What's going on here?"

Cole turned around and stomped toward her. He was angry. Very angry. His face was hard and white, his lips thin, his teeth clenched behind them as he stopped in front of her. "He won't bind me!" he nearly shouted at her through clenched teeth. "He's a mage and he likes demons, but he won't help!"

"Are you crazy?!" she gasped out in agitated breathlessness. "Why would you want Solas to bind you?!"

"So I'm safe!" he cried with desperation and she only then realized that he wasn't just angry, he was frightened, utterly terrified of being bound. "I can still feel Erimond trying to bind me! He wanted to make me a monster!" Cole cried with gut-wrenching fear. "The Elder One - when we fight him he will try to bind me too, and he can do it! He can do it!"

Her insides felt shaky, and the nerves running along her spine were tingling as she reached for him, but Cole turned his back on her and stormed toward the entrance of Skyhold, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"If Solas won't do the ritual to bind me, the Elder one - or someone else - could… will… like the Warden mages and then… I'm not me anymore!" He turned his head, looked over his shoulder and directly at her with wide and wild, terror-stricken blue eyes and a dire expression that chilled the blood in her veins. "Walls around what I want, blocking, bleeding, making me a monster!"

"Isn't it extreme for Solas to bind you?" she asked, a frowning black scowl on her face. "What if that takes away the part of you that makes you… you?!"

Cole turned around to face her, his eyes gleaming like blue ice in his hard features. "Helping is what makes me who I am. I help the hurting. That is what I do. All I do… am… me!"

His words stung like a bitter-cold, violent wind biting into her skin. "All you do? All you are?" she snapped crossly. "What about me?"

His mouth became flat. "Both demons and spirits need a purpose to exist, and mine is to help. That is my purpose. That is what I am meant for." He sounded gruff all of a sudden. "I want Solas to bind me so I'm safe. Will you help me or not?""

She bristled, smothering the hurt with her anger. "And if binding you erased your mind? Your consciousness?"

His eyes snapped up to hers. "You wouldn't make me hurt innocent people! Not like they would!" His face wore such a frightened and somber cast that the sight of it actually hurt something deep inside her. "I don't want to hurt innocent people again. Not like before. Not when you would look at me again like… like…"

Her eyes narrowed, her chin setting with unmoving resolve. "I will keep you safe. I will protect you. No one will bind you. No one. Do you hear me? I won't let them!"

"That's not good enough!" Cole bit out on a hushed, driven hiss of sizzling fury.

Her chin shot up at his harsh tone, her eyes flashing out a defiance that clashed head-on with his. "I'm not afraid of you."

He held her eyes with the burning intensity of his. "I am."

A thunderous silence bounced around them.

Solas cleared his throat and the sound surprised her. She'd completely forgotten he was still standing there. "There are amulets used by Ravaini seers to protect spirits they summon from rival mages," Solas stated. "A spirit wearing the amulet of the Unbound was immune to blood magic and binding. It should protect you as well, Cole. It is fortuitous that I am currently in possession of such an amulet."

"Good," Cole ground out, a hint of a flash spearing out from behind his long black eyelashes. "They will not take me."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that day, with her teeth gnawing on her bottom lip, Ember walked into the atrium. It was empty except for Cole who was pacing the room like a caged tiger. She asked, "Are you sure you want to do this here?"

Cole stopped in his pacing and faced her. "Yes. It can go away if it becomes sharp."

She dug her hand into the pocket of her armor and pulled out the amulet Solas had given her. "This is it."

An inquisitive frown puckered his face. "What do we do with it?"

She shrugged. "It's simple enough. You put it on, I charge it with magic, and you should be protected."

He looked nervous, really nervous.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Cole?"

Silence fell, one of those horrible awkward silences that grabbed at the air and choked it to death.

"They can't make me a monster."

She nodded once and then gathered her magic. She reached her mind across the Veil and summoned a flow of magic that she channeled into the amulet. There was an explosion of white-light and a blasting force of power that sent Cole flying backwards into the wall with a painful cry.

"Oh, Maker! Cole!" she cried as she ran over to him. "Are you alright?!"

He stood leaning back against the wall, rubbing his brow. "It… it didn't work." His voice was low and constricted. "Something was… blocking me."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Something like you not being a demon?"

The question flicked at the muscle that lined his defined jawbone. "No."

"Open your eyes!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. "The amulet doesn't work on you because you're too human!"

"No," he refused in a gravel-rough tone. "I left the Fade, but I am still a demon."

She huffed, "Yes, a demon that is strangely like a person. A human. A man."

"Stop it!" he bellowed. "I don't matter!"

"You don't matter? You don't matter?!" she screamed, stomping up to him where he was leaning back against the wall to poke him hard in the chest. "Nothing else in this world matters more!"

"Then help me!" he shouted down at her before stepping around her to move across the room, getting as far away from her as he could get. "I can be bound, bowed, old wounds broken. They can make me not me. Fear of falling. They can make me into a monster. They can make me hurt you. They can make me possess you!"

"No, they can't!" She spun away from the wall to face him, the volume of her voice surprising her. "Don't you get it? They have no power over you because you are too human!"

Cole shook his head furiously. "Blood magic can-"

"You are human, Cole!" she cut him off vehemently. "You cannot possess me, or anyone else, because that bloody ritual only works on demons. And you are no demon!"

The words were barely out of her mouth when he moved so swiftly, she had no time to react. He appeared standing right in front of her, having moved across the room in the blink of an eye. The air crashed with tension as he placed his hands against the wall on either side of her head, his arms like steel bars, and she could see the erratic pulse thudding in his neck.

"You're wrong," he rumbled lowly in a dark voice. "You know what I am. You've seen it in me. Something I can't see that is deep inside - heavy and black and blocking. Can't pretend I'm who you want me to be. Wearing another man's life, stealing second after second of a real life, bending truth to fit what I want."

"You are living a real life." Her voice was soft, gentle. "You came into this world to be a person, Cole. So be one."

"I didn't come into this world to be a person," he murmured rustily. He bent his head close so that his warm breath fanned her face, locks of gold falling to overshadow his eyes. "I first came into this world to hold your hand."

His words lanced through her and she felt something constrict in her heart. "You are human," she pressed stiffly. "But you are too wrapped up in your fear to see it."

Obstinate tension pulsed from every muscle in his face. "You are asking me to risk all I am… me… on that belief. But what if you're wrong? What if I become bound, something twisted and wrong and monstrous. How can I risk it if the cost is your life?" His expression changed to one of utter, absolute, jaw-locking resolve. "Won't let us become lost in shadow. Won't make you a monster!"

Her eyes skittered away from his. "There is no risk."

"Yes, there is," he replied, with hard, harsh bite.

Ember glanced up at him again. "You could never hurt me, Cole." One hand lifted to gently rest on his bicep while the other came up between them to lightly touch his jaw. "Because you care for me."

The muscles of his chest and biceps immediately became taut, bulging beneath her fingertips as his fingers pressed against the wall beside her head, straining white against the stone.

"That's not enough." It came out barely a whisper.

She leaned closer and he turned his face away. Her lips were near his ear. "I am safest with you."

She touched his face with the gentlest of touches, trying to silently tell him that it would be okay. That everything would be all right. And she wished so badly that it would be. But his jaw remained locked, his breathing rough and rasping from his throat as he looked down at her with deep anguish in his eyes.

His hands left the wall to frame her face. "Dear heart…" His hands gripped the nape of her neck, and he moved his mouth to her ear. "Please… just lock away the parts of me that someone else could knot together to make me follow."

He straightened his body then, as though he was containing something very intense deep down inside him, and unclipped his hands from her face to turn away from her and move off towards Solas' desk in the middle of the room.

Ember felt a hard pang of pain twisting in her ribs. There was a great yawning gap opening up between them, which had nothing to do with the length of the room.

Her teeth ground together before she snapped, "If you won't listen to me, then we'd better try again." Her voice was cold and biting. "Focus on the amulet. Tell me what you feel."

The tension loosened slightly from frame. "Warm, soft, blanket covering. B-But it… it catches… tears… I'm the wrong shape. There's a… something." He turned slowly and lifted his hand with a black fingerless glove to point southwest. "There." His hand slowly fell. "That way."

"We'll find whatever is preventing the amulet from working. If this is what you want, I'll make it right." She folded her arms. "Get Cullen and work with him on the map to figure out where you're sensing something wrong."

"Will you… will you come with me?" he asked quietly.

"Of course," she replied. "You'll be alright, Cole. Everything's going to be fine. You'll see."