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magnimoon · 8 months ago

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Chapter 20: The Rise of the Inquisitor (Part 1) - A Cullevelyan fic

You can read it on AO3 as well as the rest of the episodes!

Summary:

The attack against Haven finally happens!

The rest of the episode under the cut

Everything was going perfect. With the Breach sealed, the mage/templar war getting to a conclusion… in theory the Inquisition solved many problems in record time. Then why? Why suddenly chaos and demise overturned the scales?

Then there was the Herald, with a sour gaze looking at the cliffs. She was talking a few moments ago with Cassandra, speaking precisely about the situation. While Bryony diminished her own actions, an uneasy sensation lingered within her thoughts. It is too good to be true, too soon for this to end. Her mind was clouded with paranoia and doubts, yet she didn’t share these feelings with Cassandra, maybe they needed a closer bond for it.

Then her fear became real when the alarm sounded and soldiers readied their weapons while Cullen approached the scene, reporting the status. Cassandra was already at Bryony’s side, glaring at her with full determination. She would be in the team for this one. Varric approached her without receiving orders, something compelled him to be there. A bad feeling, some would say.

“Dorian!” Bryony called at the Tevinter mage who was about to help the residents. However, due to the Herald’s call, he knew he would be in the team once more.

The rest of them, Vivienne, The Iron Bull, Solas, Sera and Blackwall, received orders to evacuate the houses, help the mages and templars and guide every peasant towards the Chantry. The Herald, in a few seconds, was right beside Cullen, ready to open the front doors. Whomever they would fight, would have to deal against the Inquisition armed forces.

Or at least that’s what they thought.

“I can’t come in unless you open.” A young voice was heard, non-aggressive and calmed tone echoed on the opposite side.

Once the main doors were opened, they revealed a late teen/young adult finishing some of the enemies with ease. This boy presented himself as Cole. Judging by his weapons, he is a rogue. He came to warm about this unknown threat. Someone who was angry at the Inquisition for “stealing” his mages. With the teen signaling towards the elevated grounds, everyone’s eyes followed his direction.

Soldiers, peasants, not even their famous Spymaster could’ve foreseen the arrival of The Elder One. Varric stood in silence, shocked by the presence of him who should be dead. Annihilated and rotting in a Grey Warden prison, far away from their current position. Varric’s mind lingered, wondering if Hawke was safe.

“I know this man, but this Elder One…” Cullen whispered near Bryony, enough for her to hear the grief in his voice. That’s when the Herald realized he was referring to the armored human beside the tall, corrupted and deformed figure.

“He’s very angry that you took his mages.” Cole reassumed.

“Took his mages? What a complete arse.” Bryony was the first one to speak loudly, angry at the deformed monster. This took the attention of both the rogue and the Commander. “Cullen, give me a plan! Anything!”

The tone in her voice was desperate, she couldn’t think clearly. Her hands were shaking so badly that keeping the staff on her hands was an impossible task. Yet, she looked determined at her Commander, she was from a lower rank, so she needed to do anything that could help. But Cullen knew better, in the few months she has been in the Inquisition, Bryony usually came up with brilliant plans that could help the organization on a bigger scale. Hell, even missions regarding the advisors were managed by her, strategy and priority decisions became a second nature to her.

So, when she asked Cullen for help, he knew she needed support in many ways possible. Both in strategy and a way to calm her down. “Haven is no fortress…” he started, “if we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle.” And, as the Commander he is, he complied to her request. Once Cullen gave instructions to every soldier, mage and allied forces present, the battle began.

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It was a monstrous battle. Around every corner, templars emerged from everywhere, like humidity on a rainy day.

“Dorian?” Bryony asked to the Tevinter mage once their backs touched, covering each other’s blind spots. Just as they learned on the faraway future.

“I know. This is the same red lyrium we saw on that cursed place.” He answered, casting an ice spell over those puppets.

“Yeah! But this one is ten times worse! I didn’t see those blasted crystal blooming from their bodies!” Bryony screamed since she was handling two templars at the same time. One was getting zapped while the other received a kick on the face. Even with the helmet on, he received an electrified impact, killing him on the spot. Good thing Bryony added an armor to her boots a few days ago.

“Looks like this Elder One got really desperate. You must have ticked him off.” Dorian added, teasing his friend while finishing the last templar on the spot.

“Well, is good to know I have my own fan.” She combed her bangs out of her fangs, posing like a diva when Dorian is present. “Is everything ready?!” Then she screamed as loud as possible to the soldiers loading the trebuchets.

“We are ready to fire!” A soldier replied in the same fashion since the explosions and chaos drowned the noise.

Seconds later, and the team heard a loud crash coming from the enemy’s side. The trebuchet landed a spectacular hit. Now it was time for the next one. Varric signaled the approach of enemies and Cassandra lead the offensive strike alongside Bryony. Usually a mage would’ve stayed behind, attacking from a safe spot, like Dorian. Yet, the Herald wasted no time, getting rid of these monsters was a priority.

First, she would cage enemies with lightning, then Varric would provide assist from behind. Cassandra would land the final blows while Bryony headed onto those non shocked enemies, in order to zap their bones if necessary. She was twinkling in purple sparks at all time, without any time to recharge or rest.

“Hold on, Twinkles, have a time to breathe,” Varric stopped her once there was no sight of enemies nearby, “we need to load the trebuchet.” He took out his big brother tone, calming her down.

He could see the wear and tear on her eyes and body. Nobody told her to take the role of the Herald this seriously. Her hands shook violently and her wheezing breathes became coughs. Hadn’t been for Cassandra, everyone thought Bryony would’ve volunteered herself to ready the trebuchet. There’s a limit for every human being, and Bryony wasn’t listening to her own body and its warnings.

Varric thought that cheering her would help once they saw the avalanche hit the enemy, causing many enemy losses in the process.

Then the dragon appeared.

Within seconds, only one attack was enough to destroy the trebuchet, scattering everyone among the snow and dirt. As well as undoing all their efforts until now.

“Today… is now well beyond making sense.” Tiredness invaded Dorian’s sass. It is unclear on whether the wear came from physical exhaustion, or he was done with everyone’s shit. Probably the second one, however, he felt his muscles tensing in pain as well.

“He has a dragon?! Why does he have a dragon?! Why don’t I have a dragon?!” Bryony exasperated in frustration while jumping off the snow pile she fell into. She still had a snow cap over her head, which fell once she shook her head. “Everyone to the gates!” She ordered at the end, looking more frustrated than tired due to the Elder One’s pet.

Bryony could’ve just run towards the Chantry, leave everyone and saved herself. She was already tired, after all. She fought already her part and no one would blame her for the losses seen on the battle. Yet, there she was, blasting doors while entering into burning houses, rescuing people from the tavern, the medics, Seggrit, Adam (even a hammer and materials for the smith) and fighting alongside Threnn to protect her.

Threnn knew the Herald didn’t like her due to the differences in their postures regarding Loghain and Alistair. That wasn’t enough for Bryony to just let someone die. The Herald gained the respect of Varric during that fight. Once everyone was safe, it was time to head towards the Chantry.

A soldier opened for them since the doors were locked. A few more soldiers entered before Bryony’s team. Roderick was bleeding, a wound that wouldn’t stop him from helping the rest. Once everyone got there safely, Cole grabbed the Chancellor just in time before he lost the strength is his legs. “He tried to stop a templar. The blade went deep. He’s going to die.” Spoke Cole, coldly about the grim news.

While Roderick answered sarcastically towards Cole’s comment, his gaze looked at the end of the Chantry, sorrowful and aware of his physical condition. He knew the boy meant well, and that he had minutes left, whether luck favored him or not.

Bryony looked at her surroundings, seeing how could she provide any help at all. That’s when Cullen appeared from one of the side rooms. Once his eyes immediately saw the Herald, he dashed towards her.

“Herald, our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us.” He told Bryony. She clicked her tongue in disgust.

Cullen, almost by instinct, grabbed her forearm. He saw the Herald’s expression, averting her gaze to anywhere else as a result of such dire news. He tried to console her somehow. His first instinct was to grab her hand directly, but this wasn’t the time for it, by all means.

“I’ve seen an Archdemon. I was in the fade, but it looked like that.” The young rogue interrupted the conversation. Both soldiers turned their heads towards Cole. Cullen’s hand was still gently grabbing her arm.

“I don’t care what it looks like. It has cut a path for that army. They’ll kill everyone in Haven.” Cullen finally released the Herald, angry at the possibility of another Archdemon tormenting Ferelden. The least we need know is another Blight, he thought.

“The Elder One doesn’t care about the village. He only wants the Herald.” Cole added, he didn’t sound sarcastic, or wasn’t making fun of Cullen. He naively answered at the situation, as if the information itself was obvious.

“I don’t care what he wants. How do I stop him?” For a split second, Bryony answered very similar to Cullen, surprising the Commander since usually he is the harsh one and she is more approachable or sympathetic.

“It won’t be easy. He has a dragon.” Cole kept vaguely answered. Almost like asking something important to a kid.

Both Bryony and Cullen were tired, exhausted and the boy wasn’t helping. The Herald only furrowed her eyebrows and looked at the ground, frustrated that everything was happening due to her. The Commander broke the silence.

“We know what he…” and he sighed, that was the obvious part, but he realized Cole wasn’t making fun of him. Is just that, just like them, the young rogue had no plan nor idea on how to proceed. So, Cullen could only hold onto his frustration. Venting on the kid wouldn’t help the situation. “Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable.” His voice got soft, firm but soft when speaking to her. “The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets. Cause one last slide.”

“We’re overrun. To hit the enemy, we’d bury Haven.” Bryony ran the scenario through her head and reached said conclusion. When she saw the Commander’s eyes to her comment, she knew he already had foreseen the same conclusion.

His mind ran through many possible outcomes, any possible advantage they could have. There was none, only dying for the cause. Everyone in Haven would die with a single avalanche, but so does this Elder One. Any other plan resulted fruitless in his mind. But nobody else gave any options.

“We’re dying. But we can decide how. Many don’t get that choice.” Cullen’s voice faltered once he was finishing speaking. His furrowed eyebrows undo by themselves, without he realizing it. The pain of the memories came back without warning.

He almost went back again to Kinloch Tower, a great example on how could someone die, without even get to choose how. He was losing himself in the worst timing possible. Bryony saw through him. Something wasn’t right with him. Almost by instinct, just like when Cullen grabbed her arm, she grabbed him.

Only this time, she gently placed her gloved hand over his cheek. The cold leather brought him back, realizing what was going on. Bryony flinched by her own action, not even knowing why she did it in the first place. She was about to remove her hand when he pressed his glove against hers. Both remained a few seconds like this, thinking this might be the last minutes together since everything could be ending with an avalanche.

“Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say it before he dies.” Cole, once more, interrupted the pair. With that, Bryony managed to lower her hand, clearing her throat.

Both heard what Roderick had to say. Apparently, Haven had a passage that could be used to evacuate everyone through an underground tunnel. With this, there was hope, at least to put everyone at a safe place.

“And he wants me. I could distract him while everybody else escapes. What about it, Cullen? Will it work?” The Herald asked looking towards the Commander.

“Possibly. If he shows us the path. But what of your escape?” Cullen softly answered. The sounded perfect, except that Bryony didn’t mention how she would return.

Bryony, looking towards the huge door, mustered a few words, “Then it’s settled. He wants me, then I’ll give him what he wants. Prepare everyone.” Determination filled her voice and gaze. She readied her staff and drank one healing potion for the ride.

Cullen remained speechless. He knew she readied herself for the worst scenario. “Perhaps you will surprise it. Find a way…” He could only motivate her.

The Commander moved the rests of the soldiers. Gave orders to anyone capable of moving to help those who couldn’t. Meanwhile, Cole grabbed the Chancellor in order to support him through his last moments. Roderick thanked the boy for allowing him to be of help, even if it was one last time.

“You are not thinking of going alone. Are you?” Dorian approached the Herald. He placed his hand over her shoulder so that she would look at him.

“Is there any other way?” Her face was on the verge of fainting, but she somehow wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“Yes,” Cassandra stepped in, “we will aid you.”

“Well, we really don’t want to die, but we are not going to leave you alone, Twinkles.” Varric took Bianca off his back, getting her ready for a possible last battle.

“Heh,” Bryony mustered a small laugh, “thanks, guys. However, once I give you the signal, you will head towards the Chantry.” Dorian and Cassandra were about to speak, argue about this decision. “There is no room for negotiation. I’m the one he wants. I’ll find a way. Don’t worry about it.”

The team remained silent. They headed towards the main door, waiting for their next orders.

“Herald…” Roderick spoke before Bryony departed. “If you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this, I pray for you.” He was covering with his hand the wound zone, very badly since the blood wasn’t stopping. Yet he waited for her, only to deliver that last message.

She politely bowed, acknowledging his acceptance. He isn’t that bad, after all, she thought.

Bryony heard soldiers running past behind her. This prompted her to look back, where Cullen was standing. “They’ll load the trebuchets. Keep the Elder One’s attention until we’re above the tree line.” He spoke.

Bryony nodded, reassuring she got her orders clear. She was about to head out when Cullen momentarily grabbed her right hand, stopping her. “Once we’ve arrived at the location, I’ll fire a signal towards the sky. Stay sharp.”

“Alright, and Cullen,” she gently pressed back his hand before releasing him, she gazed towards his brown eyes, “thank you.” She was smiling.

“If we are to have chance… if you are to have a chance… let that thing hear you.” He looked at her back before returning to his men, helping two that were limping.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’ll do more than hear me.” She finally readied her staff, heading towards her team who opened the door.

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She coughed some blood.

After barely regaining some consciousness, her body only agonized in pain while the faint warmness of her body faded away… very, very slowly. Bryony managed somehow to stand up in middle of an unknown cave, Temperature was falling faster that she could warm herself up. At first, she tried to cast a small fire spell, enough to burn the broken piece of wood that fell with her. Nothing, there was no magic left inside her body for the time being. How could there be any left? She didn’t listen to her wounded fleshy carcass who screamed for some little rest. Bryony had to hug herself, rubbing her arms in other to calm down the shakings over her body.

Luckily, the cave had a straightforward road, a man-made tunnel since there were some stairs alongside a built entrance to the next room. It took a while for her to realize this since her vision was barely focusing on her environment. How long was I out? Maybe there is an exit nearby? She thought just as she was about to run. What only resulted from that were some wheezing sounds of agony. She could feel the broken parts in her body, maybe some ribs broken and an injured foot. Bryony squeezed her eyes and her nose crunched, trying hard to remember…

“What the hell happened?” She spoke onto the air, an obvious question since the memories still permeated her head. The real motive of question was the inconceivable previous events to her fall. What was more unreal? Her surviving such lethal situation, or encountering a being who claims to be one of the Magisters who brought the Blight?

“Argh!!!” Bryony exclaimed, pained by the sudden headache brought with the cold and the fuzzy short-term memories.

Thankfully, she wasn’t suffering amnesia, she already suffered one, two would be maddening. But, recalling the events proved to be quite the challenge. Could it be the emotional trauma of almost encountering death? Or that death lingered slightly behind her, quietly waiting for her in this freezing tomb?

She had to move, she refused to perish in such pathetic way. “Think, Bryony, what the hell happened back there?” She spoke out loud while making her first steps towards the exit.

“Shit, I don’t want to die.” She exhaled, trembling by either fear or the freezing sensation. The blood from a wound near her lips had already frozen up, creating a burning sensation that tickled like hell.

Bryony began to remember, as a way to keeping her awaken in order to press forward.

First, she was with her team, Dorian was backing her up while Cassandra defended Varric. It was a solid strategy. They cleared a path cleanly. The last standing trebuchet wasn’t far away; but they wouldn’t risk any possible corrupted templar sneaking into the Chantry. Luckily, it was too easy to recognize enemies from foes, their own men didn’t glow with an ominous red energy.

“There’s our glorious end. All it needs is aiming!” Dorian shouted, already foreshadowing their impending perish.

“Our ending? I believe I was clear with my orders, Dorian!” Bryony spat, electrifying enemies in the process.

“Well, you know, your plan doesn’t guarantee we may escape in time. I’m just getting used for the worst possible scenario.” He sassily answered her friend, frost stepping to her side only to argue back. At least he pierced through four templars with this move.

“We can bicker later! Cover me while I aim the trebuchet!” Both ended rebuked by Cassandra. She was the one spinning the wheel in order to hit properly the mountain.

“You know! I hate to agree with her! I blame you for this!” Varric fired one arrow in between the eyes of an enemy, killing it instantly. He sounded sour, unhappy that, for a split second, he had to be the responsible one alongside the Seeker.

The battle continued non-stop, tiring the team.

“What the hell is that?!” Bryony yelled, gaining the attention of her team, which was redirected to the giant red golem in front of them.

No, it wasn’t a golem, it was another templar. Only this time, little could be seen of his human form. She didn’t sound frightened, just alarmed. She wasn’t sure on how to eliminate a target that monstrous, but she was willing to find out.

Everyone focused on the small minions, they encircled them on a faraway spot. Then Bryony casted once more a lighting cage. This spell became one of her favorites, which became the strongest attack. None of the enemies were strong enough to escape the zapping chains that drew inside. This gave enough time for the team to deal damage to the golem. Every once in a while, Bryony would’ve reinforced the cage.

Once weakened the enemy, and his shields down, Bryony asked Cassandra to catapult her towards the enemy. There was no time to fight back at such ridiculous order, since Bryony was dashing towards the Seeker. It wasn’t an order; it was a warning. In one move, Cassandra readied her shield, covered her face and felt the weight of the Herald. Then, as by instinct, the Seeker countered this movement, sending Bryony flying towards the enemy.

Bryony has seconds to spare, which she used by locking her legs unto the enemy’s spikes and neck. She risked her life by piercing the enemy’s mouth with her own staff. It is unknown how much force she applied to her weapon in order to manage such feat, after all, she did hear the enemy’s mandible snapping. That mattered little once Bryony fully charged the staff with electric magic, sending the enemy, and his head, flying in pieces all over the battlefield. Whomever that person was, was long gone, doomed to be forgotten.

One thing was sure, that amazing stunt costed Bryony’s only weapon. Now, she had to rely on her fists once more.

They lost track of time eventually, the count of how many reinforcements they fought mattered little once the trebuchet was loaded and properly aimed at their target. The battlefield seemed empty enough, so Bryony volunteered to spin the wheel since she was weaponless.

“Everyone, go.” The Herald spoke, the seriousness in her tone opened everyone’s eyes widely. She was meaning it. Dorian already opened his mouth, ready to argue. “It’s an order!” But the Herald wasn’t going to allow anyone to disobey her.

Cassandra griped her sword in frustration before sheathing it. Then she proceeded to grab Dorian’s arm, already thinking of dragging him back to the Chantry. At least, the Tevinter mage knew when to throw the towel.

That’s when Bryony let go of the wheel, looking at the sky. When the guttural roars and the slow flapping of its wings were heard, that’s when the team realized why she was commanding everyone to retreat. The dragon approached them once more.

“Move. Now.” This time, she wasn’t joking around. She could barely process those words before running away from the blasting attack that separated her from the team.

“Are… they s-s-safe?” She was hardly speaking, feeling her lungs freezing while remembering those events. She feared for her team, even while she was near death.

Then, an atrocious, death suffocating sensation crept through her back has she continued focusing. That’s true, I tried to look for them when I recovered from the impact, then…

Then the Elder One appeared in midst the fire, either not caring about the burning pain or not receiving any at all. The imposing figure had only one target in his mind, Bryony. That’s all that mattered. Within seconds, the Herald found herself between this lyrium deformed creature and the dragon which he apparently controlled.

Insults began to evoke from this apparent egomaniac man, or rather mage with a god complex. Calling her “Pretender”. Of course, Bryony was less from afraid once the taunt began. Her heartbeat probably was proving the opposite, yet, she wouldn’t accept some weak ass calumny.

This Elder One, whom presented himself as Corypheus, began to threaten her by imposing his will. “You will resist. You will always resist. It matters not.” Those words still lingered through her mind while resting herself against the wall of the corridor. Her hand was burning, like an acidic burn she couldn’t wash away. She continued walking.

He referred to this as the Anchor. She thought while thinking of his words while she was at mercy of his grasp. He somehow was controlling the magic energy flowing through her left hand. He accused of her of interrupting a ritual, was that what happened at the Conclave? He planned to assault the Heavens. “What is this thing meant to do?!” She yelled, trying to hold in the pain consuming her. For a moment, she thought of her arm melting right in front of her, pain made her hallucinate.

“It is meant to bring certainty where there is none. For you, the certainty that I would always come for it.” He replied, assuring that, even if she escaped today somehow, he will pursue her sole existence.

As if she was a mere toy, a puppet, he lifted her like nothing. Then he pronounced those words, those phrases that revealed to her whom Corypheus truly was. Whom would be her enemy as long as she lived. …Breached the fade… The Old Gods of the Empire… Then it clicked her.

“T-then, he truly is one of the original Magisters. The ones who started the Blight.” She barely spoke out loud, the cold made her lips break each time they were moved. “Who’s there?” Bryony lifted her head once the silhouettes of some regular wraith demons began to approach her.

The Herald wouldn’t humor them, battle them. She wanted them gone immediately, her left pulsing hand dropped green mana at a worrying rate. So, she only lifted it, thinking of those demons be no more. And, with her desire becoming a reality, a mark was placed in between them, which became a small rift. Similar to those she encountered and sealed before, this tinier version sucked the enemies away from her. Instead of being a burdensome inconvenience, it became a useful weapon in her aid. A new technique for future fights. That is, if she survives first.

Bryony looked to the front; she could see the end of the tunnel. It didn’t matter how many breaths of her revealed her exhaustion. Only one last push was needed. Just like it happened with Corypheus.

He mentioned he saw the throne of the gods, and it was empty. That is… Argh, I can’t think straight. He is only one tall idiot who wishes to be the new god. He couldn’t even finish me off when he had the chance.

Yes, Corypheus, full of himself, threw Bryony towards the loaded trebuchet. She received a strong hit, hurting a small part of her spine, nothing she hasn’t received before. If she only had a healing potion at hand. At first, the Herald distracted him by grabbing a sword and pointing it towards him. That made no sense since it has been years since she took one as a weapon, when the possibility of becoming a templar circled around her head. Her eyesight was a bit clouded, still recovering from the impact against the wood. Luckily for her, the enemy at hand suffered from an arrogance impulse that compelled him to monologue his plan. This gave her enough time to watch the fiery arrow being launched towards the sky.

Everyone is finally safe, she thought. Finally, one last cocky smile was given.

“You expect me to fight, but that’s not why I kept you talking.” Not that she somehow made a huge effort into make him talk. But she would savor this moment. “Enjoy your victory. Here’s your price!” The cockiness in her tone was long gone, she screamed using almost every last of energy remaining to kick and release the projectile towards the mountain.

Her back ached just by remembering the second hit she received on the right side of her body. Bryony gently placed her hand over the spot. It hurt like hell and she could notice some alarming red blotches. At least the cold kept the wound under control. She needed to press forward and fast.

But where? Once she finally exited the cave, she was presented with a white Fade’s acre. Her possible burial place amidst the snow. The buildings were long gone, buried by the blizzard snow, if she didn’t move quickly, she would join them soon. Any trace of footprints disappeared prior to her arrival. Her guide were faint constructions that survived the impact. Some carried faint lights that she used to regain heat before they faded away.

This one is recently made, everyone passed through here. I must… keep going. She thought to herself since her mouth could only produce shivering sounds. Any attempt of speaking felt like her throat breaking into several crystal pieces.

Walking became almost impossible. She thought of stopping for a second, just take a short breathing and rest. But fear made her believe that, by doing so, that would become her eternal resting place.

Shit, it can’t like this. Everything I did… All of it, was it for this fucking moment?

She started to remember. It is unknown on whether she was contemplating her life passing through her eyes as death was keeping her a close company, or as a result of her own sheer will in order to keep going.

The memories, those that were keeping her moving on. The most important ones, and the ones that marked forever her life.

The scared templar apprentices looking at her, as if looking at a demon while her fist glimmered with purple sparks. Hector looked at her, his eyes were of a man who witnessed the loss of someone important to him. Just because she used magic.

A few days later, her family wouldn’t even talk to her. With her chamber doors chained on the outside while the Templars arrived for her retrieval. She hugged tightly her knees while Hector tried to comfort her.

The Knight Commander Mortimer, torturing those poor mages who attempted to steal any food that wasn’t molded bread. Jeralt, future to-be Knight-Commander, lied to his superior while a little Bryony hid in the kitchen, holding her breath so that no one would hear her. That same night, she broke the rules and stole a small grape, one that tasted like heavens to the point of making her tear in happiness. For the first time, she experienced sweetness after suffering one year of torment.

Then there was the “silent uprising”. The day Mortimer died by poisoning. Everyone pointed towards the mages for this act. However, none were close to the Templar that day, since he kept them locked and security was tight. Bryony stood closely to Jeralt and her mentor, Lydia, while chaos filled the hallways. Yet this Templar looked strangely calm, even when receiving the news.

Then there was the Knight-Commander office. The first time she entered once Jeralt became the successor to this title. He spoke to her about this “agreement”, one only created for her. That’s when Abrecan came into her life. The Templar that would always watch over her. The one who always patted her head after a successful mission after returning to the Tower.

The kitchen, where she would spend all her nights, dedicating herself only to training. Which caused her to fall asleep during many morning classes.

Her team, the old one.

Finally, the Conclave and the consequences of it.

The Inquisition, the place that initially seemed like her doom. Now, her salvation. While, she doesn’t trust many of them, it has begun to grow on her. Not only the organization as a whole, dedicated to the common well-being, but its people. That’s when a particular face came into her mind.

It can’t end like this… I have so many things to do. So many things to solve. So many people to see again. No. I didn’t even tell Cullen that…

“There! It’s her!” The Commander’s voice reached her ears.

“Thank the Maker!” He wasn’t alone, Cassandra always ran towards her.

Bryony didn’t even realize how long had she been walking through the snow, not even that the blizzard faded out ages ago.

“Cu…llen?” But the Herald was at her limit. Her legs gave out. Her body slowly succumbed into the snow. Her eyes could barely distinguish the figures in front of her. Hadn’t been for the faint light casted by torches in the horizon, she would only see darkness.

Amidst the people, she could only recognize one face, running at her at full speed as if his life depended on it. He looked desperate while trying to catch her. Then her gaze completely blacked out.

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