WARNINGS: Slight gore (blood) and violence

CULLEN

I put my hand on my sword. "YOU!"
 My voice echoed in the hall, discordant in my ears. The torches crackled as the flames within flickered, dust floating on the beams of moonlight streaming in from the openings in the walls from where the dragon or the Red Templar behemoths had caused damage to Skyhold. Anders stepped fully into the light as he lowered his hood, blonde hair falling to his shoulders and into his face. His eyes were absent of pupils, instead shining with magic as he met my gaze. Sadness clung to him like a cloak, but it did nothing to mask the sheer power housed within him. My hair stood on end, gooseflesh erupting across my skin.
"What are you doing here?" I barked, but he said nothing. It only piqued my rage more.
"We should have you chained! Chained and sent to Kirkwall to face a trial and execution!"

"Hypocrisy was always your strength, Knight-Captain," Anders spoke, his voice strange and unearthly, but empty. He wasn't angry. He was apathetic.
"Hypocrisy, bias, self-righteousness and mercilessness."

"And you operated so much better, did you?" I demanded, failing to ignore the sting at the reminder, "You used magic to blow up a chantry! Killed hundreds, if not thousands! And countless more have died in the wake of the rebellion you ignited!"

"And in your sanctimony, in your blind obedience to Meredith, how many did you cause to suffer, Knight-Captain? You. Meredith. Elthina. For all the Chantry's talk of the Maker's care for the lesser of his creation, all you who belong to it are only too happy to keep we lesser beneath your boots," Anders answered, but still was not roused, "And when we dare rebel against your abuse? You squash us beneath them. Claiming it is your divine right to do so because your Chantry says we mages are an affront to the Maker. That we belong beneath you.
"I did not start the war. You templars imposed further and further restrictions in the wake of what I did until war was inevitable. Just the same as Meredith. Just the same as you. Tell me, Knight-Captain, how much blood did you get on your hands in your pursuit of holy dominance?"

"Far too much," I spit.

"Cullen!" Meira cried out as her knees buckled, I caught her before she fell. She was cradling her head.

"What are you doing to her?!" I hissed.

Anders's magic-filled eyes flicked to Meira. "A dreamer. Like the boy, Feynriel. Interesting."

I drew my sword, pressing Meira behind me as I pointed it at him, my teeth bared. "Don't touch her."

"You dare raise your blade to us, Knight-Captain?" Anders demanded, his voice now that of two, "You, who stood by as injustice after injustice was done upon your charges? You, who did nothing until The Gallows ran red with the blood of mages? Only acting when it was convenient to do so. You dare—"

"What is going on out here?" Ellana's voice snapped as she stepped through the wicket door.

"Inquisitor," I addressed her, "Anders has come to Skyhold."

Her burning green eyes landed on me. She had a few nicks on her face, dissecting the white vallaslin with angry red marks. The arm with her marked hand was in a sling and exhaustion lined her face. Yet, she stood straight and arched a brow at me. "And?"

"Inquisitor?" I questioned, my brow knit.

"I sanctioned his coming," Ellana stated, her chin lifting a fraction as her eyes narrowed.

"You…knew?"

"I did," she nodded.

"Why?" I demanded, "And why was I not informed?"

"I was not planning on returning to Skyhold and finding it under attack, Commander," Ellana scoffed, "As to why, he has firsthand experience fighting Corypheus. He fought at Hawke's side when she faced him. Between he, Hawke, Fenris and Varric—as well as Solas and Dorian's research—I have hope that we may actually form a plan to tackle our enemy. I thought you, as our military and tactical advisor, would understand gathering all advantages and information we could in order to form a plan of attack." She leveled a hard look at me, her eyes burning brighter.
"And since his crimes against Kirkwall, he has been serving as a Grey Warden—re-conscripted by Warden-Commander Theirin. When last I checked, for the whole of Thedas, conscription into the Grey Wardens expunges the crimes of the conscript." Defiance colored her features as she drew herself up to her full height.
"For there is something noble in the act of conscription into the Grey Wardens, is there not? Allowing someone a second chance to fight against the greatest of evils facing Thedas?" Her eyes were like flint as she stared me down, her Mark sparking.
"Rather like the Inquisition, wouldn't you say, Commander? A place for second chances, new beginnings, a shared purpose?" Her gaze was searing, the mask of the Inquisitor firmly in place.
"A place to atone?"
Like a knife straight to the heart. I said nothing, but I didn't look away. Her eyes flicked to Meira.
"And lastly, for many years prior to his crimes against Kirkwall, Anders operated as a charitable and, from what I understand, very skilled spirit healer. I thought—as did Solas and Dorian—that such a mage might be able to aid Talitha in what ails her, should she so choose."

And with that last statement, she emasculated any argument I could voice. Not that I could think of any. I clenched my jaw.
"As you command, Inquisitor," I flicked my eyes to the other Warden who remained hidden beneath their cloak, "Will you account for his actions, then?"

The other warden lowered their hood. Dark brown hair fell out in a long braid, evergreen eyes stared me down, noble features—though now older—marked the woman as Queen-Consort Evelyn Theirin née Cousland. Hero of Ferelden. Warden-Commander of Ferelden's Grey Wardens.
I was not prepared for the tug into memories that happened as I came face to face with her. I nearly buckled at it. The hall felt too tight, too hot. That hum of the magical cage vibrated along my skull, the squelching of the walls beyond it sounding in my ears, the stench of my friends' decaying bodies cloying in my nose. I felt suddenly disgustingly filthy as if all the grime I'd accumulated within that cage had never truly been washed away. It was somehow even sharper than previously with Evelyn before me, just as she and the others had been all those years ago.
Sweat had been running down my back, nausea rolling in my gut, rage such as I had never known coursing through me. Fueled by the exhaustion and pain racking my body; the sorrow I couldn't let myself fully feel; the betrayal; the pressure in my skull from the times they'd invaded my mind with their magic; but more than anything, the fear. The potency of those memories, combined with the hyper-awareness of the lyrium that still remained within me at having used my abilities, had the thirst that had been bearable as of late crawling up my throat with a vengeance.

"Commander Cullen Rutherford. Former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall. Former Knight-Templar of Kinloch Hold. Fereldan. Born near Honnleath," she greeted, and I focused on her words to pull myself out of the thoughts clawing at me.
Her eyes flicked over me, "If memory serves, you alone of your templar brethren survived the tragic events that ravaged the Circle tower of our homeland. It was I and my fellow companions, including your Spymaster, that put an end to the nightmare that had seen you trapped within a magical cage, unable to escape."
She was silent, a brow raised as if expecting an answer. Anders's eyes flicked between us. Clenching my jaw, I gave a curt nod.
Nodding to herself, she continued, "If I recall correctly, you wanted to quote 'wipe the mages' taint off the face of Thedas' after your pity had been stripped from you. I know some of what became of you in Kirkwall. And Hawke told me that she had divulged what had become of Anders following his crimes, so you know full well he is with me as a Warden in effort to repay his crimes. Now, Anders has done nothing but reveal his presence and yet here you are, sword drawn, demanding he be sent to face execution. It seems I shall need your Spymaster to clarify how she defines the word 'progress'. Or was she correct in her seemingly generous assessment of you?" Slowly, I put my sword back in its sheath.
Her eyes flicked over me once more, "My husband speaks highly of you, Commander. As I understand, you trained together for a time as templars before he became a Grey Warden. He was rather glad to cross paths with you again when he visited Haven. The state we found you in over a decade ago was hard on him. He'd always considered you of resolute character. Fair-minded where mages were concerned, honorable and valiant in conduct even if you disagreed on your beliefs concerning the Chantry. I dismissed your behavior in the tower, having witnessed first hand part of what it is you endured, but we are a decade beyond that. Is my dear husband's good opinion misplaced? Leliana's?"

I felt akin to a recruit being dressed down by my senior templar. I swallowed thickly, those words she stated even I had forgotten but now they stuck in my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs. Meira's delicate hand curved in my elbow. I could feel her trembling. You complete and total fool, Rutherford.
"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty," I began, "But you must understand my…apprehension of having him here."

"Of course," she nodded, "But he is here. As a Warden. The crimes he committed are being punished through his conscription and service to the Grey Wardens."

"But he is an abomination," I challenged.

A smirk pulled her lips. "And last I heard, the Order and Circles are no more. In fact, the entire system that was devoted to the control of and the protection from the arcane, the maleficar and the apostate is no more. So, Commander, I ask: what does it matter?"

I blinked at her. "What does it matter?"

Her gaze was unyielding. "Yes, Commander. What. Does. It. Matter?" She looked to Anders, who was suddenly very preoccupied with dust on his cloak.
"There are far greater things to be concerned with currently, is there not? Besides, Anders is no ordinary abomination. Not the raving creature bent on the destruction of anything in its path. Together, we've figured out how to keep Anders's more…hostile side calm. So long as he isn't threatened—and in dire cases we have a cat—Anders and Justice live in a harmonious state. When that is not the case, Vengeance makes himself known."

"That does not change what he did," I pressed, "Or what he is capable of doing. I am to allow him within Skyhold? Should his 'more hostile' side—as you so flippantly call it—not remain under control, he could very well destroy this entire mountaintop and all upon it. As he did in Kirkwall."

"And what of her?" Evelyn looked to Meira, "Is she not capable of such as well, should she become possessed?"

Anders laughed. A dark and sad sound as he ran his hand through his hair. "And with that single question, I know for certain blowing up a chantry served no purpose." Surprised, I looked to him. The magic gone from his eyes, brown ones met my gaze as his face fell. The power I had felt wafting off of him now silent.
"I…cannot take back what we did," he looked away, "Maker forgive me…in some ways, I wish I could." He clenched his jaw and lowered his gaze.
"But if I hadn't gone through with it…would things have ever changed? When even my dear friend holds that attitude?" Evelyn started to speak, but Anders waved his hand. "I know what point you were trying to make, Evie."

"And you think this is better?" I demanded, "Is this what you envisioned when you blew Kirkwall apart?"

He flicked his eyes back to me. "Mages free? Thedas seeing the Chantry and Order for what they are?" A smirk pulled his mouth. "What do you think?"

"Inq—" I began to protest.

"Cullen," Meira said, gently, her voice laced with pain, "Please."

I looked to Meira, finding sweat upon her brow as her fingers rubbed across her paled forehead. They were shaking. You fool, Rutherford. I took her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles as I squeezed her fingers before pulling her to my side.
"What's wrong?"

"Being close to him…it's painful," she panted, her eyes screwed shut as they had been since we'd drawn close to Anders, "It's…more so than normal."

"Andraste bless me," Anders laughed in shock, "You—you fell for a mage? The world truly has gone mad. Or, I finally, truly, have."

I blinked and looked at him. His gaze flicked between Meira and I. No matter my anger, there was a truth I couldn't deny: without him, without his actions, I would never have walked away from the Order. The Inquisition would never have been needed.
And Meira and I would never have found each other.
He was right. Nothing would have changed. I would not have changed—or at least, be trying to change.
Swallowing, I cleared my throat and said the last words I ever expected to in the times I had thought about crossing paths with him again: "Forgive me for…drawing my sword."

His brows rose in surprise. "An apology, Knight-Captain?"

"Commander, actually," I corrected him, "I am no longer a templar," I looked to Ellana, "My apologies, Inquisitor." I looked to Evelyn, "I leave it to you to account for his actions. I do not like having him here, but the Inquisitor leads us. Not I. I understand her reasoning."

Evelyn gave a nod, her face softening. "As you say, Commander."

"Consider me dumbfounded," Anders chuckled, shaking his head, "Of all the scenarios that ran through my head, this certainly wasn't one of them."

"We're of the same mind there," I grumbled.

"You are Anders?" Meira murmured, causing us all to look at her. She was now looking at the man, confusion knitting her brow and recognition on her face.

"Last I checked," Anders nodded, "Well, Anders plus one."

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but decided against it. "What are you?" she questioned instead.

Anders smirked. "As he said," he nodded towards me, "Abomination."

"But," she breathed, shakily, "There's more to it than that."

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Meira hadn't taken her eyes off of Anders, a spark in her gaze and pucker in her damp brow indicating that she was mulling over a problem. "I'm not entirely sure," she murmured, "but…I can sense it."

"If you're all quite finished, can we proceed with this meeting so we can get back to taking care of our people?" Ellana ordered before turning back to the War Room.

Anders held the wicket door open for Evelyn to pass through before I motioned for him to go on ahead. I held it for Meira, frowning at the strain plain on her face. Our eyes met briefly, she giving a small nod of assurance. I watched her as she took her place at the War Table as I strode to take mine. The others were already within, with the addition of Hawke and Fenris. Anger, exhaustion, and grief were all shared between we members of the Inquisition.
Ellana stood with her hands clasped behind her back, rage unbridled as her green eyes burned brighter. I could've sworn her eyes had become an even more unnatural shade of green, a part of me wondering if the strange magic she'd utilized to open a rift was the reason behind it. Is the Mark—Anchor—still trying to claim her life? The more she used it…was it taking more than any of us realized?

"Inquisitor," Leliana addressed Ellana, "May I introduce Warden-Commander Evelyn Theirin. Queen-Consort of Ferelden."

"And my other Warden contact," Hawke added.

"A pleasure to finally meet you, Your Majesty," Ellana bowed, briefly, "Thank you for coming."

"It is I who should be thanking you," Evelyn began, "Leliana sent word informing me of the Orlesian Wardens' actions along with a report on Corypheus and his dragon. When she described the creature and informed me of your suspicions in regards to his enthralling the Wardens, I knew I had to help. Word came soon after from Hawke, asking that Anders return with me. Anders and I left the other Fereldan Wardens to pursue another matter and made our way to Adamant where we crossed paths with Hawke. Together, we learned all we could."

"And?" Ellana questioned, a dark brow quirked.

"They are summoning a demon army using blood magic, as you suspected," Evelyn stated, "But that is not the worst of it, I'm afraid," she sighed heavily, anger twisting her features, "They are trying to open the Veil itself. To bring forth…something big."

"What?" I demanded.

Evelyn looked to me. "I believe whatever it is will lead the rest of the demon hoard."

"They are sacrificing other Wardens in order to use their blood to open the Veil," Hawke added, "It seems Corypheus passed on his knowledge to Erimond, if he is indeed one of the magisters of legend."

"That is the other reason I came and wanted Anders along," Evelyn murmured, her gaze unfocused as she stared at the map of Thedas, "For he is not the first such darkspawn we have encountered. Another, who called himself the Architect, crossed paths with us some time ago. He shared many similarities to how you describe Corypheus."

"You…encountered another?" I asked, astonished looking between Evelyn and Anders, "What was this Architect like?"

We all listened as Evelyn and Anders recounted the events surrounding their meeting of the Architect. I was unsure what emotion I felt more: disbelief, awe or fear. Disbelief that anything they told us was the truth. Awe at the wild tale they spun. And utter fear at the notion of what strange things lurked within the Deep Roads, what secrets dwelled within its labyrinth, how little of the world I really understood. One thing was for certain from what they recounted, this Architect certainly shared likenesses with Corypheus.

"The Architect was free-willed, not subject to the Calling of the archdemons," Evelyn added, "But in comparison to Corypheus, he was far more…benign. Focused on freeing the darkspawn from their Calling instead of enslaving them to himself. But his methods for attempting to do so…had grave consequences. We killed him," she looked up then, looking to Hawke, "but you said you killed Corypheus?"

Together, Hawke, Fenris and Anders recounted their adventure in the Vimmark Mountains where Corypheus had been imprisoned. They described in detail how he fought, how impossible it seemed to down him until he finally lay dead. They had carefully checked him over, assuring that he was truly dead.

"And yet he lives," Evelyn stated before she looked to Anders, "What if…what if the Architect, yet lives?"

Anders visibly shuddered. "Andraste preserve us if that is the case."

"There is more," Leliana revealed, her blue eyes sweeping over the rest of us, "Dorian has discovered that 'Corypheus' can be translated to mean 'conductor' in the ancient Tevinter tongue. In the Chant of Light, the Canticle of Silence speaks of the Conductor going to the Architect. Both were high priests to the old gods. Dumat and Uthemriel respectively. If they are one and the same, Corypheus and this Architect are two of the seven Magisters Sidereal referenced in the Chant. And Corypheus? He is the head of them—the one promised godhood by Dumat, the Old God of Silence—should he enter the Golden City."

A strange sensation came over me at her words. If it were true…My Maker, what did we do?

"Could they be working together?" I asked.

"We've had no indication of that," Evelyn assured, "But…the Wardens…something is happening within our order. Therefore, I cannot make any guarantee—that is, if the Architect even lives."

"Evie," Leliana interjected, "Is there anything else you can tell us of Adamant?"

"Only that we cannot delay," Evelyn urged, "The ritual they are performing…it sounded like it would take time, but…I would not have us wait a moment longer than absolutely necessary."

"What can you tell us of the fortress itself?" Ellana questioned, looking between all of us, "Is there anything we should be aware of before we march?"

"Adamant Fortress has stood against the darkspawn since the time of the Second Blight," Leliana stated.

"Fortunately for us, that means it was built before the age of modern siege equipment," I added, "Unfortunately, the Red Templars ensured the siege engines we had been constructing were destroyed in their assault. We'll have to construct more if we have any hope of breaking the fortresses defenses."

"How long, Commander?" Ellana inquired.

"A month at the soonest," I clenched my jaw, "Between raw materials needing to be gathered, the time to assemble them and to ensure they're in proper working order? A month."

"You'll forgive me, Commander," Josephine interjected, "But I took the liberty of sending word to Lady Seryl of Jader seeking aid upon seeing the destruction of our siege engines. She has trebuchets and competent personnel at her disposal. I await her response, but I am confident she will be pleased to assist, given how the Inquisitor settled tensions in Orlais."

"Let me know at once when you receive word," I turned to look at her, relief flooding me, "I will send troops to defend them and speed their journey. Thank you, Lady Ambassador." She inclined her head, a small smile on her mouth.

"We await Lady Seryl, then. Anything else?" Ellana probed.

"With the siege engines, the Inquisition forces can breach the gate, but if the Wardens already have their demons…" I began, trailing off. How many will there be? How many of our men will we lose?

"There are plenty of choke points you can use to limit the field of battle," Hawke offered.

"I'd also recommend ladders," Evelyn suggested, "If you can breach the gate and get your forces up on the walls, there will be plenty of cover for a small team to push through to the middle of the fortress where the ritual is being performed," Evelyn looked to Ellana, "I'm afraid you'll have to be part of that small team, Inquisitor."

"Why is that?" I questioned.

"The blood they are spilling for the ritual, it's being absorbed by a large rift," Evelyn explained.

"Of course," Ellana hissed, curling her lip before flicking her gaze to me, "Anything to add, Commander?"

"We may not be able to defeat them outright with our current numbers," I stated, "Therefore, I suggest we cut off any means of reinforcements." I looked to Fenris.
"What did you discover of the Venatori? Calpernia? Could reinforcements come from the Hissing Wastes?"

The elven male looked at me with his large, green eyes. "The Hissing Wastes are crawling with Venatori and given its proximity to Adamant, it is possible. They are in search of something, but what I was unable to discover. My concern was focused on the numerous slaves they were holding captive." The strange markings upon his skin glowed slightly at the word "slaves".
"There were also Red Templars present, though fewer in number. They seemed to be trying to establish a red lyrium mine with little success. As for what they had captive slaves for…all those whom I rescued could tell me was that it had to do with the red lyrium." His jaw clenched.
"As to Calpernia. She was not there."

"I have more to offer there, Commander," Leliana stated as she gestured to a small metal cage atop the table before her. Within, the memory crystal spun. She pressed a finger to it, causing it to awaken and glow.

Just as before, strangely disembodied figures appeared. Their forms clear and yet not. Calpernia appeared first, but seconds later, the large creature that was Corypheus loomed behind her.

"Master," Calpernia greeted, "Forgive me, I didn't expect—"

"The time for your ascension nears. Tell me of your preparations," Corypheus commanded.

"They go well enough," Calpernia assured, "Although I'm distracted here. If I could train at the shrine…"

"Only Dumat's faithful may enter," Corypheus admonished her, "Continue as before…or would you see the Imperium's rebirth stalled by your lack of focus?" He turned to leave her.

"I will be ready," Calpernia assured, "As the Vessel, and Tevinter's champion." Once he was gone, she turned. "Another deflection. And…why, a dwarven bauble. As if mine were miraculously returned to me! Let's give your new owner a glimpse of her fate. Venatori! We leave!"

"That is all the crystal recorded before she found it," Leliana explained as the crystal dimmed to blackness once more, "But I think it may be enough." Leliana looked to Fenris.
"She was in the Wastes, but she left once this was discovered. But whatever they are after is too valuable to completely uproot. You found nothing as to what they were looking for?"

He shook his head, his white hair swaying as he did. "That particular area has numerous dwarven ruins and the Venatori were camped near them. Perhaps there is something the dwarves left behind that the Venatori wish to recover?"

Leliana nodded. "When you return, I will send some of my agents with you to look into it further." She turned to Ellana.
"What is important here is the mention of a shrine to Dumat. Where Calpernia is forbidden to go."

"You mentioned Dumat before," Ellana crossed her arms over her chest, "The Old God of Silence? While I have studied your Chant, the Blights, even some of Tevinter's history, I still do not understand."

Leliana gave a wry smirk. "I fear if you did, you would be the Herald the world claims you to be. For it is the mystery surrounding the Old Gods and the Magisters Sidereal that Thedas's most prominent faith may very well hinge upon." I gave her a hard look as did Ellana.
"A jest, in poor taste, I agree." She clasped her hands behind her back.
"Before the Imperium, the tribes that would later form it worshipped dragons. Believing they to be their fallen warriors reborn. At some point before the Imperium came to be, members within these tribes began using magic. It is claimed the how of it was taught by the dragons through visions. Wether that is the truth, no one now knows. But with that teaching came the exultation of these first mages to kingship and priesthood as the tribes turned to worshipping these dragons as gods. Dumat was worshipped in ancient Tevinter as the Dragon of Silence. He was the first to rise as an Archdemon and bring the Blight. Truly a god fit for Corypheus—even if he is not the Conductor referenced in the Chant."

"What is this 'Vessel' Calpernia speaks of?" Ellana questioned.

"We do not know," Leliana pursed her lips, "I have my agents looking into it. Ser Dorian is looking as well. It may be a rank within the Venatori, or a title within ancient Tevinter, though I doubt either. She is meant to hold something—something Corypheus values, otherwise 'Vessel' would not be the chosen word."

"If Calpernia knows we were listening, will they move locations?" Ellana questioned.

"She is gone from wherever she has been hiding, but this shrine sounds too important to Corypheus. Perhaps he believes it is sacred and that is why Calpernia is forbidden from entry," Leliana mused, "More likely, he's hiding something from Calpernia. And she suspects it. I have sent agents to locate the shrine. We should investigate—carefully. I doubt Corypheus has left it unguarded."

"Find it," Ellana commanded, "As swiftly as possible." Rage colored her features. "I want him to pay for what he and his templars did to us today." Her eyes flicked to me. "What about Samson? Where are we?"

At the mention, I recalled Elizabeth and the crumpled parchment she'd shoved into my hand before she'd died. I'd stowed it in my pocket and forgotten about it in the wake of the battle. "Trev—Lady Elizabeth said we must go to Sahrnia. That Samson was there. They'd captured our agents and Elizabeth." I pulled out the parchment and smoothed it upon the table's surface. Anger burned in my chest. She'd written everything she'd discovered in her own blood.

Main source. Here. Soil favorable.
Red lyrium. Grows in soil. Grows in people faster. Feeds on the blood. Mine it from the bodies.
Red Templars. Take just enough to change. Too much and they become monsters.
Demon here. Old. Powerful. Terrifying.
Samson's armor. Made of red lyrium and magic. Never seen anything like it.

Maker, it's painful. Eating my insides. Tell my family I love them, but I made a choice.

I flipped over the parchment to see if she'd written anything else only to find a letter in a different hand. A hand I recognized.

To Besen,

Maddox needs twice the usual red lyrium to modify my armor properly. Have the amount ready in three days, and you and your squad will get a chance to serve as Corypheus's honor guard.

My own proving goes on. When I first donned the armor, I thought I was drowning in fire. Without Corypheus to stop me, I'd have torn my own skin off. Now the armor's settled, I can march for days without rest, break a man like kindling.

Maddox may come to you to work on my armor's modifications. If he gives you instructions about the lyrium, follow them to the letter. Treat Maddox like you'd treat me.

Samson

'Maddox'. My skull pounded in earnest as I was pulled yet again into more memories at the mention of the name.

"You cannot do this, Meredith!" Orsino's voice protested. We were in Meredith's office, the elven mage standing behind her. Meredith stood looking out a window, hands clasped behind her back.
"The boy has committed no greater crime than having a sweetheart!"

"'No greater crime'?" Meredith turned to the First Enchanter, her blue eyes piercing.

I stood at attention, waiting to debrief Meredith on the findings of my latest investigation into the Mage Underground. Meredith and Orsino argued often, much the same as Greagoir and Irving. But where Greagoir and Irving's arguing held no true malice because they often came to a compromise, Meredith and Orsino rarely compromised. Whatever Meredith ultimately decided, Orsino had little choice but to submit. Now, they were arguing over Maddox—the boy currently in solitary confinement—after Samson had been caught passing letters between Maddox and his sweetheart. Samson was to be punished as well, but first, Meredith wanted to deal with Maddox.

"What, that he convinced your templar to pass the letters for him?" Orsino scoffed, his lip curling, "Everyone knows Samson will do anything for another drop of lyrium!"

"Silence, Orsino," Meredith ordered, her eyes hard, "I will worry about my templars. This meeting is about your charge.He knew the rules—"

"Ridiculous rules and you know it," Orsino hissed, his nostrils flaring. My hand inched towards my sword. "You strip us of most of our freedoms, now you must strip us of the freedom to love amongst one another as well? Do you do the same to your templars? Last I heard, a group of them makes regular trips to the Blooming Rose—a brothel! How very pious!"

"Enough!" Meredith demanded, "I know full well the mischief my templars get up to and I will see them properly punished. As to Maddox, how do we know the boy is not under the influence of a desire demon? That he did not use blood magic to compel Samson to deliver these letters?"

Orsino flung his hands into the air. "You assume every infringement is because of demons or blood magic! Have you considered that he's a seventeen year old boy? Do you not remember what is was like to be young and infatuated?" My mind flashed to Neria, her beautiful eyes, kind smile, melodious laugh. The gentle way she'd used her magic once she'd gained control of her fire. How I had admired it. Our friendship. As she'd fought by my side. The love and hurt in her eyes when I'd pushed her away. Something pricked at me with Orsino's words. "He was sending her letters, Meredith! Letters!"

"And he used my templar to do it!" Meredith argued back, "If he had done this on his own, his punishment would have been minor. But this…he has corrupted one amongst my ranks."

"Corrupted?! You cannot be serious!"

"I am perfectly serious, Orsino," Meredith retorted, "It is yet another example of the complacency infecting this Circle. I have set rules in place for a reason. Maddox willfully disobeyed and convinced one of my templars to aid him in doing so. I cannot allow it to stand, Orsino."

The elven male narrowed his eyes at Meredith. "What are you saying?"

"Tranquility," Meredith stated.

I snapped my head towards her at the same time Orsino stood. "No!"

"The boy is not even a year past his Harrowing, Orsino," Meredith replied cooly, "And yet he is already balking at the system that is designed to keep him safe—from both those beyond the tower and himself."

"I will not allow you to make a boy Tranquil for sending love letters!" Orsino roared.

"It is not the letters," Meredith shook her head, her face sympathetic, "He corrupted the moral integrity of a templar."

"Moral integrity! The only thing moral about Samson—"

"I will hear no more," Meredith cut him off, "The boy is either made Tranquil or he will die."

Meredith placed a piece of parchment upon her desk. I knew what it was—a form requesting the ability to perform the Rite of Tranquility. It took the agreement of both the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter to approve such a thing to be done upon a mage.

"I will not sign that without speaking to Maddox," Orsino spit.

Meredith looked to me. "Bring him here, Ser Cullen."

I had collected the boy from solitary and brought him to Meredith's office. He had been frightened, but resigned. As if he knew what was coming—had known from the moment he'd been caught. He'd sat quietly as Meredith and Orsino argued or questioned him. He answered their questions, but did not defend himself. Until, finally, he asked to be made Tranquil on the condition that Samson not be punished.
Meredith made no such promise, but Maddox had still submitted to his fate. The next time I had seen the boy, he'd had the brand upon his forehead and all emotions gone. The girl he'd been sending love letters to wept when she saw him.
Though I had questioned Meredith, all it took was a few lines of reasoning and I'd convinced myself that it was done for the greater good. To ensure mages respected the rules, as well as the templars. To stop worse things from happening. Had relived my torture at Desire and the blood mages' hands. Letting my fear and anger blind me once more.
But I had been only fooling myself. He had not deserved it. It was as true then as it was now, I had simply been too blind to see it. Hypocritical. Sanctimonious. Merciless. Anders had not been wrong.

"Samson?" Anders questioned, his brow furrowing, "As in Raleigh Samson?" He looked to Hawke, "That's who is leading the Red Templars?" Hawke nodded. "But he…he aided the Mage Underground? Helped smuggle mages out of Kirkwall. Worked with Ser Thrask to oust Meredith?"

"He betrayed your Mage Underground," I stated, my lip curling, "In exchange for coin. Just as he wanted to rejoin the templars after aiding Ser Thrask—claiming Meredith was right about mages—to regain his access to lyrium. He was a templar and in the end, he remained a templar. But all he was ever truly after was lyrium or the coin to get it."

Anders turned slowly to look at me, that power rising in him again. "That's how…that's how you found them."

I looked away, recalling the young man who'd tried to beg for his life before I shoved my sword into his throat when I'd led templars to storm a hideout of the Underground. The crimson flowing along the fuller, thick and condemning as it dripped off the blade. His eyes as the light had left them. I clenched my jaw.
"Samson's only loyalty was to himself," I chided as I looked back to Anders, "And I am sure now is no different. Corypheus is just a means to an end."

"Just as Ser Thrask had been a means to get Meredith out," Hawke added, "But he was more than happy to go back to her when he saw what the mages were willing to do. To prove his loyalty by getting the other 'loyal' templars. By getting you."

Her blue eyes were staring me down when I looked to her. "And now he serves a darkspawn bent on becoming a god, grows red lyrium from people and fights alongside mages who use blood magic."

"He does…what?" Hawke questioned, her raven brows furrowing.

"Lady Elizabeth wrote this in her own blood," I indicated the parchment, "It says they're growing red lyrium inside of people. Then, they mine it out of the bodies," I clenched my hands into fists, "It feeds on their blood."
"And the Red Templars? They take just enough to have their powers. Too much? And they become the…grotesque versions of themselves." Had Cassandra not come, had Hawke not come before that…Had I not opened my eyes…Would I have been one of them?
"And he knows full well what he's doing to them. I knew Samson had fallen, but this? It's monstrous! We have to put an end to him!" I looked up at them all.
"And his armor…he moved with unnatural speed and strength in Haven. And this says it 'eats magic'. And now? She wrote this on a letter written by Samson. It's being modified. Perfected. We have to find a way to stop him!" I jabbed a finger at the map.
"We have to go to Sahrnia!"

"We will," Ellana assured, her finger absently tracing the map where Emprise du Lion was, "What else does it say?"

"The letter mentions Maddox," I murmured, "A name I did not expect to hear."

"Maddox?" Ellana questioned.

I looked away from her, "Maddox was a mage in Kirkwall's Circle. Samson smuggled letters between him and his sweetheart. Eventually, Samson was caught—that's why he was cast out of the Order." I straightened and looked to Meira. "Maddox was made Tranquil, and became a skilled craftsman of magical items. Samson must have…rescued him."

"You stood by while she made a man Tranquil over a few love letters?" Anders demanded.

"The official charge was 'corrupting the moral integrity of a templar'," I stated not taking my eyes off Meira, "Meredith wielded the brand for far lesser offenses, believe me."

"You think that excuses it?" Anders hissed, "And you all honestly wonder why we'd had enough?"

"It doesn't excuse it," I retorted, "I should have done something. But—"

"But nothing, Knight-Captain," Anders curled his lip as he slammed his hand on the table, his apathy gone, forcing me to look at him, "You stood by while mages were abused to the severest degree sanctioned by the Chantry over minorinfractions. Your prejudice—your fear of mages blinded you. People—mages—died for that."

"And you? How many people died for your hatred?" I spit.

Anders merely leveled a look at me, his brown eyes holding fire. "I know my crimes. Do you know yours?"

I clenched my jaw. "What would you have me say? The truth of what I did haunts me. There is no excuse."

"And yet here you are, commanding an army," Anders snorted, his eyes narrowing, "And I am here. Forced to hide amongst the Wardens to not be 'chained and sent back to Kirkwall to face trial and execution'." He quirked a brow. "You get no trial. You do not have to fear execution. Why do you think that is, templar?"

"Because he left the Order and joined the Inquisition," Ellana interjected, "The Inquisition whose primary writ, given by Divine Justinia, was to restore order between the mages and templars. To challenge the Chantry."

Anders scoffed as he threw his hands out. "And your solution was what? Having them all join your ranks? Make them work together? As if that will last past this shared enemy Thedas has. It's no different than any war mages have fought in in years past. As soon as it's over, the mages are shoved back into their towers and forgotten." He glared at me.
"The same will happen here. The mages will be punished and the templars, him included, will get away clean. As they always do."

"'Get away clean'?" I curled my lip, "And what Samson is doing to the templars under his command? Is that not punishment enough?"

Anders crossed his arms. "It's a start."

Rage boiled in my chest and I opened my mouth to speak.

"Stop," Ellana cut me off, her voice a warning, "I've indulged this long enough. This is not a meeting for you to air your grievances," she turned to Anders, "You're right. That first writ has been neglected. Our Mage-Templar battalion, led by Talitha," Ellana gestured to Meira, "is the closest we've come to addressing it. She's implemented changes in hopes of fostering true peace, but Corypheus has had to take priority." She was silent a moment.
"What you've said has given me an idea. But for now, we must focus on the task at hand." Her eyes flicked to me.
"As for Commander Cullen, to the onlooker, his crimes may seem immeasurable. And for his inaction and neglecting of his responsibilities to the mages within his charge, I would agree. As would he. But within the structure of the Chantry and the Order, he is not guilty of any direct crime deserving of death or imprisonment. He followed the orders of his superior, but in the end forcibly removed her from command before she went too far."

"'Went too far'?" Anders seethed, "She annulled an entire Circle when she had no authority to do so!"

"Wrong again," Ellana challenged, eyes hard, "When you blew up the Chantry, you removed the final obstacle between her and absolute authority over the city. With the Grand Cleric dead, Meredith—in accordance with Chantry law—had the right to call for and approve the Right of Annulment."

"She would've found another way to annul The Gallows," Anders objected, his jaw clenched, "She called for the Right long before I did what I did."

"I don't doubt that," Ellana agreed, "But we'll never know now. As for punishment for the Commander, the Divine herself demanded he make recompense by leading the forces of the Inquisition should it be needed in order to bring peace and reform. Before that, he was chosen by the Right Hand of the Divine, with full knowledge of what had occurred during his time as Knight-Captain. She chose him because he was one of the few Knight-Commanders remaining after both the Circle and the Order broke away from the Chantry who did not abandon his post and charges. After Meredith fell, he'd been working on aiding the city and looking after the mages that remained. Because of this, Seeker Pentaghast believed him the best choice."

"Her bar must be set pretty low, then," Anders snorted.

"Just a step up from blowing up a chantry, in fact," I bit.

"It is the Chantry that's at the heart of all this," Anders glowered, "And yet here you all are. The 'Inquisition'. Wasn't it your predecessor that joined the Chantry and formed the Order that keeps mages like myself locked up like good little monsters? After slaughtering their way through any who opposed the teaching of Andraste and the Maker?"

"We are not the Chantry," Ellana threatened, "Nor are we our predecessors."

"Whatever you say, Herald of Andraste," Anders retorted.

"That is quite enough, Anders," Evelyn interjected, "You are here as a Warden. Act like it."

Anders crossed his arms, looking please with himself. "I beg your pardon, Warden-Commander."

"You were saying, Commander?" Ellana questioned, "Maddox? Why would he need rescuing?"

"When the mages rebelled in Kirkwall, the worst battles took place in The Gallows, in the Circle itself," I began, placing my hands on my pommel, "I thought Maddox had died in the fighting, or was eking out a living on the streets—a hard fate for a Tranquil in Kirkwall. Samson must have found him. Taken him in."

"'Battles'? The worst battles took place in the Gallows?" Anders and Hawke protested.

Hawke's bright blue eyes stared me down. "A battle implies a fair fight, Cullen. It was a slaughter." She crossed her arms over her chest. "You helped pluck some of the mages who would surrender out from that slaughter because I helped you do so."

"You're—"

"And you didn't look for this Tranquil?" Meira questioned. Her gentle voice slicing through the tension in the room. I was hesitant to meet her eyes. When I did, the emotions playing out in her gaze made my stomach hollow out.
"For Maddox?"

"Many of the mages who perished were unrecognizable. Those who were unaccounted for, Bethany and I decided should be allowed their chance at freedom given what they might have suffered within The Gallows," I murmured, "We templars would only intervene should a true threat occur. We didn't go looking for them, we only fought against the obvious threats that remained in the city. We never heard anything of Maddox, so we assumed he'd perished as time went on." I looked to Hawke.
"You are right, in part. But, Meredith gave the mages a chance to prepare, to fight back. It doesn't make what happened right, but she did not expect them to lay down and die." I clenched my jaw. "And yes, you helped facilitate the sparing of those mages who surrendered."

"Who submitted, you mean," Anders challenged.

I ignored him. It was not he to whom I had to answer. It was the Maker. It was Meira. I looked to her. Her eyes studied me. The man I am is an ugly truth, Meira. Should you choose to walk away, I will let you go.

"Perhaps there's something left of the man Samson used to be," she murmured.

Irritation coursed through me. Would she allow her grace to extend even to him? "Or he's shrewd enough to know an extraordinary resource."

"Having an inside man among Samson's forces would be invaluable, if we could convince him," Ellana stated, puzzling at her chin, "Is there a way we could get to him?"

"I couldn't say," I shook my head, "I've been around Tranquil most of my life, and I've never understood them."

"And who would?" Anders spit, "Stripped of everything that makes them people."

"That isn't true," Meira hissed, anger in her voice and face now. I winced internally at the words I had said. You idiot.
"Tranquil are stripped of their emotions and magic. But they are still perfectly capable of reason. Maddox would have reason enough to know that helping Samson was the best way to escape whatever fate he'd been subjected to prior. Reason enough to remember how Samson had helped him before. Perhaps even reason enough to agree with Samson's cause." Her eyes flicked to me.
"Based on what Carroll said to you earlier, what Florianne said to the Inquisitor and now what we've heard from Calpernia, Corypheus's generals follow him because they wish to see this world torn down for a new one. For the Red Templars, to see the Chantry torn down. For Florianne, it had been to see the Empire torn down. For Calpernia, to see the Imperium rise once more. All centering around a "god" that will be attentive." She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing.
"For Maddox, why would he not aid Samson? He was made Tranquil over a few love letters. Why would he not want to see the Chantry fall?"

Anders looked at Meira with interest. "That's been my point all along."

"I did not say I agree with him. Or you."

"But you agree that the Chantry is to blame?" A smirk curved Anders's mouth.

Her eyes burned a little brighter, the room growing cold. "I believe the evil in the hearts of some men are to blame. Wether those men reside in the Chantry, in the Circle, in the Order, in the Wardens, or just in your average village."

Anders made a non-committal noise, his eyes narrowing. "But your lover? The evil in his heart wasn't enough to steer you away?"

The blood of the mages I had failed felt slick upon my palms. Their screams echoed in my ears. I could feel the rain pinging off my armor, the blood sloshing against my boots. Their fixed eyes staring at me in judgment. I thought of Maddox, his brand fresh. Of all the Tranquil that had been branded for minor offenses that I had not prevented. Of the dead lying in the streets of Kirkwall because I had been too angry, too cowardly, too lyrium-addled to act.
Because I had trusted the Order. Because I had trusted the Chantry. The same Chantry that convinced the female I loved that she was a monster. The same Order that demanded she be locked up in a cage all her life, only given freedoms if she proved useful to the Chantry. My fist clenched. Something has to change.

The air around Meira grew even colder, frost spreading across the entirety of the room, the candles and sconces guttering. "I will not deign that question with an answer."

Anders shrugged. "I suppose evil is in the eye of the beholder."

"Creators, I've had enough," Ellana barked, jerking her good hand to the door, "Get out of my War Room. All of you. I wish to speak with my advisors."

"I will not—" Evelyn began to protest.

"Yes, Your Majesty, you will," Ellana bit, Josephine flashing a panicked look, "I have sworn no fealty to you or your husband. You are in my fortress, seeking my aid. For now, I am asking you to get out because your subordinate cannot bite his provoking tongue." Her eyes flicked to Anders.
"Make sure he is with you at all times."

"Inquisitor," Anders gave a mock bow.

"Enough!" Evelyn shouted, whirling on Anders. "I came here seeking aid, Anders! The Grey Wardens, my order—ourorder—is in trouble! The entire world is at stake and you cannot set aside your bitterness for five minutes?!" She stretched her hands out to him, pleading on her face. A look of shock crossed Anders's features as he beheld her.
"I brought you here in an act of friendship, in good faith. I've seen how hard you've been working to atone alongside us. We all have. But we come here and all of it…all of it gets thrown aside? Andy, please! You know what I walked away from. How important this is to me. Please, don't jeopardize this!"

He took her hands. "Evie, don't beg." He closed his eyes and let out a breath.
"I'm sorry," he turned to Ellana, placing a hand on his chest and bowing, "Inquisitor, my sincerest apologies. I will wait out in the hall with your guards. Do not dismiss the Warden-Commander," he looked to Hawke and Fenris, "Or my friends—"

"You presume, Anders," Fenris warned.

Anders's shoulders curved almost imperceptibly, but kept his eyes on Ellana, "I am to blame. No one else."

"Be that as it may," Ellana lifted her chin, "I need to speak with my advisors alone. I will speak with you all again at another time. Tensions are high, everyone is exhausted. Get some rest, cool off. We'll continue this tomorrow."

With that, he and the other visitors left the room. I grabbed one of the goblets upon the table, poured water from the pitcher and chugged down the liquid. The thirst was burning in my throat. Clenching in my gut. Eyes flicked to me, but I ignored them.

"What are we going to do about Samson?" Ellana questioned.

I cleared my throat. "Elizabeth states Sahrnia is their main source and by the sounds of this letter, Maddox was to travel there. That may have already happened, but…"

"Do you think Samson would remain in Sahrnia?" She probed.

"It's difficult to say," I admitted, "But if Maddox is the one who made the armor, maintains it…If he's in Sahrnia…We need to try." I clenched my jaw.
"But we also need to eliminate the possibility of reinforcements from the Hissing Wastes. While readying our army for Adamant."

"The Battalion, then?" Meira proposed.

"No," I shook my head.

Her eyes flashed up to me. "It's the best option and you know it. We could divide and go to Sahrnia and the Hissing Wastes while the main army marches towards the Western Approach. We regroup at Griffin Wing Keep before moving on the Wardens."

"No," I pushed.

"We're not even sure Samson or this Maddox are still in Sahrnia," Leliana argued, "This is—"

"I will not let you go to Samson without me at your side," I spoke over Leliana as I stared down Meira, "I agree we'll have to divide the Battalion, but we know Samson could be there. We do not even know what his armor is fully capable of; that's not even acknowledging the fact that they could be expecting us to go to Sahrnia now. Their attack, Elizabeth—it could be bait as much as retaliation. And Elizabeth notes the presence of a demon there. An old and powerful demon." Anger flashed in her eyes as we held each others' stare.
"You nearly collapsed in the presence of Anders. Were in pain as we fought in the courtyard. I know how it was for you in the Fade. What would you do in the presence of a powerful demon? You'll need all the support we can afford because we have no idea what you're walking into! So far as the Hissing Wastes, Fenris has already scouted the area."

"The Inquisition cannot afford to lose its Commander right now—"

"And its Commander cannot afford to lose his Lieutenant-Commander," I retorted, panic twisting at the thought of her facing him alone. I'd seen him in his moments of desperation. Now? He had nothing left to lose. And the Red Templars? Andraste preserve us, what are they capable of?
I looked to Ellana, "Inquisitor, I ask that I be allowed to lead the Battalion and a contingent of soldiers on Sahrnia. Wether Samson is there or not, the Red Templars do have a stronghold there. One we need to eliminate before we march for Adamant. To cut off reinforcements, to remove a possible threat once we are marching and to see if we cannot gain more information on our enemy." I looked to Meira.
"I do not ask this merely for selfish reasons, Lieutenant-Commander, if I know anything of Samson, he will at the very least have this source of lyrium guarded fiercely. If Maddox is there, it is a chance to find a weakness. We must move on Sahrnia and we must do so in force."

"What of your tourney? Your sisters?" Ellana questioned, clasping her hands behind her back, "Preparations for Adamant?"

"This is hardly a time for a tourney, as the Warden-Commander said we cannot afford to waste a single moment, but we must wait on siege equipment," I countered, "As for my sisters…" I thought of Rose bloodied and screaming, "Rosalie will not be well enough to travel and I would rather keep them here should there be any threats on the road in the immediate future." I met Ellana's eyes.
"The tourney and my sisters must wait."

"And preparations here? Planning our assault on Adamant?"

"Rylen has returned, he can see to them while we follow this lead," I answered, "You have Hawke and the Warden-Commander besides. Once we've eliminated the threat, we will establish a post there. It sits close to the Imperial Highway, which we will have to utilize to move the siege equipment with any sort of haste. When you march, we can meet you and march together. We will finalize our plan of attack once we reach Griffin Wing Keep."

Ellana sighed. "Very well. You leave as soon as we have word from Lady Seryl," Ellana ordered, looking between Meira and I.

I saluted. "Inquisitor."

"I am exhausted," Ellana murmured, "Our people are in mourning. I will go to them. We will meet again before you leave. For now, rest and see to what you must." She looked to Meira again.
"Talitha, I wish to speak with you privately after I make my apologies to our guests and ensure they are seen to lodgings. Remain here, please." I could feel her gaze on me, but I did not meet it. "Leliana. Josephine. Commander, you are all dismissed."

I gave her a nod and listened as she left. Angry, exhausted, the thirst causing my mouth to dry, pain tugging at my joints, I was unsure what to do. I stood staring down at the map of Thedas. Staring particularly at Emprise du Lion. There was nothing I wanted to do more than march straight there and find Samson, but I knew I had to wait.
I clenched my fists. Rage, dark and familiar, was burning in my chest. Rage and fear, old enemies, clawing at me. And with it, with the knowledge of what lay ahead—Demon. Old. Powerful—the thirst burned. Not as strong as before, but it was there, mocking the thoughts I did not want to think.
The song of Meira's mana grew louder as she came to stand beside me, a gentle hand coming to my face. I jumped at it and she began to pull away. Desperation for that tender gesture roared fiercely within me and I pulled her into my arms.

"It's alright, Cullen," she murmured, softly, "It's alright."

"How can you say that?" I demanded, more harshly than I meant.

"We will face what is ahead," she assured, "As for the rest, I have never been blind to who you are, my knight."

"You must be," I growled, "For how else could you love me?"

I felt her stiffen in my arms. "Do you doubt…me?" she asked, quietly.

I jerked back from her, cupping her face in my hands. Her silver eyes burned as I looked into them. "No! I did not mean that…I just meant…" I dropped my hands and sighed, "I do not even know what I meant."

She placed a gentle hand on my cheek, willing me to look at her. "I will see you shortly." I nodded and left.

I know this was dialogue heavy and more of a filler, but it's to bridge to the next chapter where we'll have some more growth for Cullen. Plus, I had to cut this chapter off before getting into the meaty bits or it would have become way too long.

Thanks for reading! Faves, follows and reviews are always welcome and appreciated!