13 – 14 Bloomingtide 9:41
As they entered Redcliffe, Ariana couldn’t shake the oppressive weight hanging over the village. It was more than the darkened streets and empty homes. The very air felt heavy, like the remnants of fear and betrayal had seeped into the stones. Every mage they passed had the same haunted expression, eyes darting toward the castle with equal parts dread and resentment. The entire village felt hollow, a shell of the hopeful haven it had once been.
This is what desperation leads to, Ariana thought, her jaw tightening. She couldn’t blame the mages for wanting to survive, but aligning with Tevinter? The very thought made her stomach churn. This wasn’t what Fiona had promised them.
When they entered Redcliffe Castle, a group of Venatori guards flanked a man Ariana could only assume was Alexius’ personal aide. His posture was stiff, his gaze flickering nervously over the trio as they approached.
“Announce us,” Ariana commanded, her noble upbringing slipping effortlessly into her tone. She didn’t need to shout; her words carried the authority of someone who expected to be obeyed.
The aide hesitated, his brow furrowing. “The Magister’s invitation was for Mistress Trevelyan alone. The rest will wait here,” he said, though his discomfort was evident.
Of course it was, Ariana thought, her irritation flaring. Alexius was already trying to dictate the terms. He underestimates me. Tilting her head slightly, she allowed a faint, polite smile to tug at her lips. “They must accompany me. You wouldn’t deprive me of my attaches, would you?” Her tone was honeyed, but her eyes promised consequences if he refused.
Her words landed as intended, and the aide relented with a reluctant nod. Ariana’s satisfaction was brief, the dark halls of Redcliffe Castle only deepening her unease.
“My Lord Magister, the agents of the Inquisition have arrived,” the aide announced as they entered the throne room.
Alexius, seated in the Arl’s throne as if it were his birthright, rose to greet them. “My friend! It is good to see you again,” he said, his tone smooth and calculated. His gaze flicked briefly to Cassandra and Solas. “And your associates, of course.”
Friend? Ariana kept her face neutral, returning the greeting with a polite nod and a bow. You don’t even know me.
“I’m sure we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to all parties,” Alexius continued, his voice dripping with confidence.
Before Ariana could respond, Fiona emerged from the shadows, startling her. For a brief moment, frustration flared. You. The woman who had led them all here.
“Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?” Fiona asked, her voice trembling with an emotion Ariana couldn’t quite place.
Alexius turned to Fiona, his smile smooth but thin. “Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives.”
Ariana latched onto the opportunity to assert control. “If the Grand Enchanter wants to be part of these talks,” she said smoothly, her tone sharper than before, “then I welcome her as a guest of the Inquisition.”
The flicker of gratitude in Fiona’s eyes surprised Ariana, but it also deepened her suspicion. Why do you look like someone just threw you a lifeline? You made this deal. “Thank you,” Fiona said, nodding toward Ariana.
Alexius’ irritation was palpable as he returned to his seat on the throne. “The Inquisition needs mages to close the Breach, and I have them. So, what shall you offer in exchange?”
Ariana smiled, her confidence unwavering. “Nothing at all. I’m just going to take the mages and leave.”
Fiona’s wide-eyed expression spoke volumes, hope and relief warring on her face.
Alexius raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “And how do you imagine you’ll accomplish such a feat?”
Before Ariana could answer, Felix stepped forward, his voice quiet but firm. “She knows everything, Father.”
Ariana’s gaze flicked to Felix, her heart sinking. What did you do, Felix?
Alexius turned to his son, his eyes sharp with reproach. “What have you done?”
Ariana seized the moment, taking a step forward. Her voice was calm but laced with steel. “Your trap has failed, Alexius. You wanted me here. Why?”
His composed mask cracked, revealing the fanatical fervor beneath. “You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark—a gift you don’t even understand—and think you’re in control? You’re nothing but a mistake.”
The insult barely registered. Ariana tilted her head, her voice turning ice-cold. “To be clear, Magister, this is not your stronghold. It belongs to Arl Teagan, to Ferelden. As for the mark, if you know so much, enlighten me.”
Alexius sneered. “It belongs to your betters. You wouldn’t even begin to understand its purpose.”
Before Ariana could retort, Dorian stepped in, his sharp voice breaking the tension. “Now he sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliché everyone expects us to be,” he mocked. His theatrical quip cut through the weight of the moment, and despite herself, Ariana felt a faint flicker of relief. Finally, an ally who isn’t afraid to poke the bear.
Ariana’s lips quirked into a small smile as Dorian stepped into view, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp.
“Dorian,” Alexius said, disappointment heavy in his tone. “I gave you a chance to be a part of this. You turned me down. The Elder One has power you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its ashes.”
Ariana’s eyes narrowed as the pieces clicked into place. “That’s who you serve? The one who killed the Divine?”
Alexius’ fervor burned brighter. “He will make the world bow to mages once more. We will rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas.”
“You can’t involve my people in this,” Fiona snapped, her voice trembling with anger.
“Stop it, Father,” Felix interrupted, his voice desperate. “Give up the Venatori. Let the southern mages fight the Breach, and let’s go home.”
Alexius’ voice cracked as he shouted, “No! It’s the only way, Felix. He can save you. There is a way. The Elder One promised. If I undo the mistake at the Temple…”
“Save me?” Felix replied, his tone resolute. “I’m going to die, Father. You need to accept that.”
Ariana’s breath caught as Alexius’ pain twisted into rage. “Seize them, Venatori! The Elder One demands this woman’s life!”
Before the guards could act, they began dropping to the ground, one by one, dead. Ariana’s scouts had moved into position, the ambush swift and decisive.
“Your men are dead, Alexius. Give up now,” Ariana commanded, her voice cold and unyielding.
Alexius’ hand rose, gripping a strange necklace as he snarled, “You… are a mistake! You never should have existed!”
Dorian’s eyes widened, recognition flashing across his face. “No! He’s casting—”
Before Alexius could complete his spell, Dorian managed to unleash a counterspell, the disruptive magic colliding with Alexius’ own. The air crackled with energy, and for a brief moment, it seemed like Dorian’s intervention might have worked.
But the damage was already done. Chaos erupted as a rift tore through the room, its energy consuming everything in blinding light. As the world dissolved around her, one thought cut through the haze: Cullen. His voice, steady and firm, echoed in her mind. Be careful.
Darkness consumed her.
~~~
The atmosphere was suffocating, the air thick with an unnatural heaviness that pressed against Ariana’s chest. When her vision cleared, the castle hall she’d just left was gone, replaced by a smaller, darker room that radiated dread. The walls were jagged with veins of red lyrium, their eerie glow casting grotesque shadows and filling the space with a low, ominous hum. It felt alive—malevolent.
Ariana turned quickly, her heart pounding as she scanned her surroundings. The sight of two Venatori guards startled her, their shock mirrored in her own.
Don’t think, Ariana. Act.
Her body moved on instinct. She darted forward, her daggers flashing in the dim light as she and Dorian dispatched the guards with brutal efficiency. Her breath came in sharp gasps as the last one fell, and she wiped her blades clean with trembling hands. The familiar motion did little to steady her.
She glanced at Dorian, who stood with unnerving calm, already studying the glowing lyrium veins with a detached curiosity.
“Displacement? Interesting!” he mused, rubbing his chin as though they’d stumbled into an intriguing academic puzzle rather than a nightmare.
Ariana’s patience frayed. “Displacement? Dorian, where are we?”
“Not just where, my dear,” he replied, pacing with maddening nonchalance. “But when. Alexius used the amulet as a focus. It moved us through time! Brilliant, really—dangerous, but brilliant.”
The floor beneath her seemed to tilt as his words sank in. “Through time?” Panic edged her voice, despite her best efforts to control it. “That doesn’t sound good, Dorian.”
“It sounds terrible,” he admitted, his characteristic humor failing to mask his concern. “Depending on how far we’ve been displaced and what happened while we were away.”
Her gaze shifted to the walls, where the red lyrium pulsed like a living wound. She had seen its effects before, but not like this. This was infestation. Corruption. It wasn’t just dangerous—it was consuming. How long have we been gone? What’s waiting for us outside these walls?
“Let’s look around,” Dorian said, breaking her spiraling thoughts. “If we can determine where—and when—we are, we can figure out how to get back… assuming it’s possible.”
“Assuming?” Ariana snapped, her frustration spilling over as she glared at him. “You could’ve started with a little more confidence! What was Alexius even trying to do?”
Dorian sobered slightly, his usual levity giving way to something heavier. “Erase you from time completely. Without you, the Elder One’s plans could proceed unchallenged. But the spell went wild when I countered it. I believe we’ve been displaced instead.”
Ariana’s stomach twisted. “Great,” she muttered, sarcasm tinged with bitterness. Not only did I walk into Alexius’ trap, but now I’ve dragged Dorian into it, too.
As they moved through the castle’s lower levels, the sight of red lyrium twisting through every surface made Ariana’s chest tighten. It spread like a disease, turning stone into grotesque formations that pulsed and hummed. Her fingers tightened around her daggers as guilt whispered insidiously at the edges of her mind. I should’ve stopped Alexius sooner. I should’ve listened to Cullen. Maker, I should’ve done something.
They stopped abruptly at a cell, and Ariana’s breath caught. Inside, Fiona was barely recognizable. Her body was mangled, twisted by the lyrium that encased her like a grotesque cocoon. The sight was a punch to the gut, each shallow breath Fiona took cutting Ariana deeper.
“Grand Enchanter?” she called softly, her voice trembling despite herself.
Fiona stirred, her movements labored and pained. “You’re… alive?” she rasped, her voice barely audible. “How? I saw you… disappear into the rift.”
Ariana stepped closer, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Fiona, what happened?”
The answer was worse than she could have imagined. “Red lyrium,” Fiona whispered. “It’s a disease. The longer you’re near it… you become this. Then they mine your corpse for more.”
Ariana fought the bile rising in her throat, forcing herself to meet Fiona’s glassy gaze. The White Wolf doesn’t falter. You can’t falter now.
Dorian leaned in, urgency sharpening his tone. “What’s the date? Do you know the year?”
“Harvestmere,” Fiona rasped, her voice fading. “9:42… Dragon.”
Ariana staggered back, the words slamming into her like a physical blow. “We’ve missed an entire year?” she repeated, disbelief mixing with horror. What’s happened in that year? What have I allowed to happen by failing?
Dorian’s expression was grim, the weight of the timeline heavy on him as well. “We need to leave,” he said firmly. “This future cannot stand.”
Fiona’s voice was barely a whisper now, her strength fading. “Your spymaster… Leliana… she is here. Find her. Quickly… before the Elder One… learns you’re here.”
Ariana knelt beside Fiona, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, guilt choking her. “I should’ve protected you. I should’ve—” Her voice broke.
Fiona’s eyes fluttered closed, her final words a plea. “Make it… right.”
Ariana rose slowly, her hands trembling but her jaw set. She turned to Dorian, her voice hard. “Let’s go. If Leliana’s here, she’ll know what to do.”
Every step through the corrupted halls felt heavier, the red lyrium seeming to pulse in time with Ariana’s growing guilt. The image of Fiona—broken, consumed—burned in her mind, a haunting reminder of what failure looked like.
This is what happens when I fail. The thought echoed with every beat of her heart, but so too did another: I can’t let it happen again.
Her resolve hardened. Whatever awaited them, she wouldn’t stop until she set things right.
~~~
Each step through the castle’s corrupted halls was heavy with dread, the sound of their footsteps echoing like a dirge. Ariana tried to keep her composure, her expression set into a mask of calm determination, but her thoughts churned relentlessly. If Leliana is here… who else? The question repeated in her mind like a drumbeat. The idea twisted her stomach, each possibility more unbearable than the last. Was Cullen here? Had he fought for Haven and survived? Was he…
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus on the path ahead, but the guilt crept in, unwelcome and persistent. He’d been so upset when I left. I’d seen it in his eyes, heard it in his voice. And I said nothing to ease his mind. She clenched her fists tightly around her daggers. If he’s here, is he even still alive? And if he is… does he blame me for abandoning him like that?
The oppressive silence was broken by a low, steady voice that echoed eerily through the halls:
“The Light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world and into the next. For she who trusts the Maker, fire is her water.”
Ariana stopped abruptly, her heart skipping a beat. She exchanged a quick, uncertain glance with Dorian before moving toward the sound, her breath catching in her throat. “Cassandra,” she whispered, her voice wavering.
As they rounded the corner, the sight of Cassandra brought Ariana to a halt. The woman who had once been a pillar of unyielding strength now knelt in the corner of a cell, her armor cracked and worn, her face hollowed by exhaustion and despair. The sight hit Ariana like a physical blow. Cassandra looked broken, her head bowed in prayer as though it were the only thing holding her together.
Cassandra’s eyes lifted slowly, and when they met Ariana’s, they widened in disbelief. “You’ve returned to us,” she breathed, her voice trembling with a mix of wonder and pain. “Can it be? Andraste has given us another chance? Maker forgive me… I failed you. I failed everyone. The end must truly be upon us if the dead return to life.”
Ariana knelt just outside the bars of the cell, her voice soft but steady. “I’m not back from the dead, Cassandra. This… is hard to explain.”
“I was there,” Cassandra said, her tone raw with emotion. “The Magister obliterated you with a gesture. We tried to fight. We couldn’t… stop it. The Elder One rose, and everything fell.”
“Actually,” Dorian interjected, his voice carefully measured, “Alexius sent us forward in time. We’re… displaced. If we find him, we may be able to return to the present.”
Cassandra slowly rose, her strength visibly returning as she processed his words. “Alexius’s master,” she said, her voice sharpening with anger. “After you died, we could not stop the Elder One from rising. Empress Celene was murdered. The army that followed—it was a horde of demons. Nothing stopped them. Nothing.”
Ariana felt her chest tighten as the weight of Cassandra’s words settled over her like a shroud. For Cassandra, this wasn’t just a nightmare—it was reality. She had lived it, fought it, and suffered through every moment. “I’m sorry,” Ariana said quietly, her voice laced with guilt. “I should have been there.”
“You’re here now,” Cassandra replied firmly, her voice carrying the same steely resolve that had always defined her. She straightened, her eyes burning with determination. “Let’s make sure this never happens.”
They freed Cassandra and pressed on, their steps quicker now. As they passed jagged veins of glowing red lyrium, Ariana’s mind turned to Haven. What if the lyrium is there too? The thought made her stomach turn. What if Cullen…
The next cell brought a voice that broke her train of thought. “Is someone there?”
“Solas?” Ariana called, hurrying forward.
Solas stepped into view, his expression one of disbelief. “You’re alive? We saw you die!”
“The spell displaced us in time,” Dorian said, his tone casual but tinged with gravity. “We only just arrived, so to speak.”
Solas, already working through the implications, nodded grimly. “If you can reverse the process, you could return and obviate the events of the last year. It may not be too late.”
“We’re trying,” Ariana said, though doubt crept into her voice. Every new horror they encountered made her question whether reversing this future was even possible. “This world is a nightmare. We have to fix it.”
Solas’s gaze was piercing. “This world is an abomination. It must never come to pass.”
As they moved on, the air grew heavier with the weight of screams echoing from distant cells. Each cry twisted Ariana’s gut, fueling her anger. This is what happens when I fail. This is the cost of my choices.
Finally, they reached the upper levels, where a familiar voice rang out, sharp and defiant: “How did Trevelyan know of the sacrifice at the temple? Answer!”
“Never!” Leliana’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp as a blade.
Ariana’s heart thundered in her chest. “We have to hurry,” she said, breaking into a run.
The sight of Leliana shackled and surrounded by Venatori filled Ariana with cold fury. The moment the interrogator turned toward her, Leliana took advantage, snapping his neck with brutal efficiency.
“You’re alive,” Leliana said as Ariana freed her, disbelief mingling with relief. “What happened? Where have you been?”
“Alexius miscalculated,” Ariana said quickly. “We were displaced in time. We’re here now, but we need to go back.”
Leliana’s expression darkened, her voice sharp. “And mages wonder why people fear them. No one should have this power.”
“It’s dangerous and unpredictable,” Dorian began, “Before the Breach, nothing we did—”
“Enough!” she snapped. “This is all pretend to you, isn’t it? A future you hope will never exist. But for me—for all of us—it was real. I suffered. We all suffered.”
Ariana stepped closer, her voice steady despite the weight in her chest. “I know. And I’m sorry. I’ll do everything in my power to fix this.”
Leliana held her gaze for a moment before nodding. “Then let’s not waste time.”
As they moved onward, Ariana’s thoughts turned to Cullen once more. If he’s here… would he even forgive me? Could he? The weight of her decisions pressed down harder with each step, but she couldn’t afford to falter. There was too much at stake—and she wouldn’t let them pay the price for her failures again.
~~~
Each step through the castle felt like a descent into a waking nightmare. Ariana’s fury and grief churned within her like a storm, the oppressive glow of red lyrium painting her surroundings in blood and shadows. The questions tore at her, each more unbearable than the last. She stole glances at Leliana, who pressed forward with grim focus, but Ariana’s mind remained trapped in the past, replaying every choice she had made. Every word she had failed to say. Her lips parted to ask, but she hesitated. Did she even want to know the rest? The gnawing doubt compelled her forward anyway.
“Leliana…” Her voice trembled, but she forced herself to speak. “What happened to Cullen?”
The faint hesitation in Leliana’s step didn’t go unnoticed, but when she spoke, her tone was firm, if quiet. “He fought. Like he always does. Cullen rallied everyone—the Inquisition, the Rangers, even King Alistair’s troops.”
Ariana nodded faintly, bracing herself for the inevitable. Her knuckles tightened against her daggers, the hilts digging into her palms.
“For weeks, they laid siege to Redcliffe Castle,” Leliana continued, her voice steady but heavy with unspoken sorrow. “But Alexius’s forces… they were bolstered by demons and Venatori. It was never a fair fight. Just as Cullen predicted, it wasn’t enough.”
Ariana’s breath hitched. She already knew how this would end, but hearing it aloud made the truth unbearable.
“They captured him,” Leliana said, her tone softening now. “Alexius forced red lyrium on him. Cullen resisted for longer than anyone I’ve seen, but eventually…” She trailed off, her words caught in her throat.
“No.” Ariana whispered, shaking her head as though the motion might undo the truth. Her heart pounded as images she couldn’t bear to picture flooded her mind.
Leliana’s voice grew quieter, each word cutting deeper. “They tortured him for information, trying to break him. But he never betrayed you. Not once. Even when the lyrium… changed him, he held onto his faith. He believed you were alive. He held onto that hope until the end.”
Ariana stumbled, catching herself against the cold, corrupted wall. Her vision blurred as tears threatened to spill. Her chest ached as if the guilt was physically suffocating her. He never stopped hoping. He believed in me… while I left him behind.
“That was the last time I saw him,” Ariana rasped, her voice barely audible. “That day in the war room?”
Leliana hesitated but then nodded. “He knew you loved him,” she added quietly. “Isabel told him before they marched. She made sure of it.”
Her thoughts spiraled uncontrollably. Cullen. He fought for me. He believed in me. And I left him that day, upset and unresolved. Did he think I didn’t care? Did he die hating me for it?
Ariana blinked rapidly, her tears threatening to overflow. “She… did?”
Leliana glanced back at her, her expression softening just slightly. “It wasn’t hard to see. You may have left things unsaid, but it was obvious to everyone else. He loved you just as much.”
The words pierced Ariana’s heart, filling her with both gratitude and crushing regret. He knew. And yet I never told him myself. Never gave him that certainty. Her fists tightened at her sides as her guilt morphed into fury.
Alexius. The Elder One. All of them. They did this.
Her jaw clenched, her breaths coming sharper now as her grief ignited into something far more dangerous. I won’t let this stand. I’ll go back. I’ll stop this. And I’ll tell him everything I should have said before.
When they reached the throne room, the doors creaked open to reveal Alexius slumped on Arl Teagan’s throne, his gaunt form framed by grotesque veins of red lyrium climbing the walls like a cancer.
“Was it all worth it, Alexius?” she demanded, her voice a low, dangerous growl. “What you did to the world? The suffering?”
Alexius sat slumped in the throne, his head lifting slowly to look at her. His voice was hollow, defeated. “And here you are, finally. I knew you would appear again. Not that it would be now. But I knew I hadn’t destroyed you. My final failure.”
“Why, Alexius?” Dorian demanded, stepping forward. “Why did you do this? To the world? To yourself?”
Alexius sighed deeply, his face etched with regret. “It doesn’t matter now. All we can do is wait for the end.”
Ariana’s brow furrowed. “The end?”
Alexius gestured faintly at the red lyrium creeping up the walls. “All that I fought for, all that I betrayed… and what have I wrought? Ruin and death. There is nothing else. The Elder One comes: for me, for you, for us all.”
From the shadows, Leliana moved swiftly, grabbing Felix and pressing a knife to his throat.
“Felix!” Alexius’s voice cracked with desperation as he leapt from the throne.
“That’s Felix?” Dorian said, horrified. “Maker’s breath, Alexius, what have you done?”
“He would have died, Dorian! I saved him!” Alexius pleaded, his voice breaking. “Please, don’t hurt my son. I’ll do anything you ask.”
Ariana’s voice was low, measured, and filled with simmering rage. “There are fates worse than death. You didn’t save him, Alexius. No one deserves to live like that. Felix didn’t want to live like that.”
Her gaze met Leliana’s, and she nodded. Without hesitation, Leliana slit Felix’s throat.
Alexius let out an anguished cry, his composure shattering. “No!” His hands shot forward, and a rift tore open behind him as he screamed in rage.
Demons poured from the rift as Alexius attacked, summoning everything he could to defend himself. But Ariana and her party fought with the precision born of desperation and anger. She closed the rifts as quickly as Alexius could open them. As the battle raged, Ariana’s fury drove her, each strike a declaration. For Cullen, for Haven, for everyone you took from me. This ends now.
Finally, Alexius fell, his body slumping to the ground.
Dorian stood over him, shaking his head. “He wanted to die, didn’t he? All those lies he told himself, the justifications… He lost Felix long ago and didn’t even notice. Oh, Alexius…”
“I’m sorry, Dorian,” Ariana said softly, her voice carrying the weight of her own guilt. “I know this isn’t easy.”
“Once, he was a man to whom I compared all others,” Dorian said quietly, almost to himself. “Sad, isn’t it?”
He searched Alexius’s body and pulled out the amulet. “Here,” he said, holding it up. “This is the same amulet he used before. I think it’s the one we made in Minrathous. That’s a relief. Give me an hour to work out the spell, and I should be able to reopen the rift.”
“An hour? That’s impossible! You must go now!” Leliana interrupted, her voice sharp.
A roar echoed through the castle, shaking the walls.
“The Elder One,” Leliana said grimly.
“You cannot stay here,” Solas said, exchanging a meaningful look with Cassandra. They nodded at each other in silent agreement. “We’ll hold the outer door. When they get past us, it will be your turn.”
Ariana swallowed hard, forcing herself to push down the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “We’ll make this count.”
Solas and Cassandra left the room, closing the doors behind them. Leliana moved to stand in front of the door, her bow at the ready.
“Cast your spell,” she said to Dorian, her voice steady. “You have as much time as I have arrows. The only way we live is if this day never comes.”
Ariana and Dorian retreated toward the throne as he began weaving his spell. The sounds of battle outside grew louder, and Ariana couldn’t tell how much time had passed. Eventually, the doors slammed open, demons and Venatori pouring in. Leliana didn’t falter, taking them down one by one with perfectly placed arrows.
“Andraste guide me. Maker take me to your side,” Leliana whispered.
An arrow struck her shoulder, and Ariana almost moved to help her, but Dorian grabbed her arm.
“You move, and we all die!” he snapped, his voice urgent.
At last, Dorian completed the spell, and a rift similar to the one that brought them to this nightmare opened. As the light of the rift engulfed Ariana, her last thought was of Cullen. Hold on. I’ll come back to you. And this time, I’ll say everything I should have said.
~~~
“You’ll have to do better than that, Alexius,” Dorian quipped as they stepped out of the rift, clearly pleased with his handiwork, though his usual flamboyance was muted by the weight of what they had just endured.
Alexius collapsed to his knees, the energy and defiance that had driven him through their last confrontation now utterly spent. He didn’t even struggle as Inquisition soldiers closed in to restrain him, his muttered laments barely audible.
“You’ve won,” Alexius murmured, his voice hollow and distant. “There’s no point in extending the charade. Felix… my Felix…”
Ariana barely registered his words. The world around her was the same—Redcliffe Castle, pristine and untouched by the corruption of red lyrium. The air was clean, not suffused with the choking malignance of the future they had seen. It should have been a relief. Instead, it felt like a fragile illusion, one she feared might shatter at any moment.
Her boots echoed sharply on the stone floor as she turned toward the main doors. Her mind was already racing ahead, every step driven by a singular need: to return to Haven, to see Cullen, to make sure he was alive. She tried to push away the irrational thought that he might not be, but it dug into her mind like a splinter.
The heavy wooden doors swung open, and a flood of Fereldan troops poured in, their armor glinting in the torchlight. At their head were King Alistair and Queen Anora, their regal bearing stark against the backdrop of the castle. The sight of them, alive and whole, confirmed what Ariana already knew but still struggled to trust. We’re back. This is our time.
Fiona rushed forward to meet them, bowing low, but Alistair’s expression was hard, his tone sharp. “Grand Enchanter. Imagine my surprise when I learned you’d handed over Redcliffe Castle to a Tevinter magister. Care to explain?”
“Your Majesties,” Fiona began hastily, her tone tinged with desperation, “Alistair, Queen Anora, I assure you, we never intended—”
“I know what you intended,” Alistair interrupted, his voice laced with disappointment. “I wanted to help you. But this? You’ve made it impossible. You and your followers are no longer welcome in Ferelden.”
“But…” Fiona hesitated, scrambling to find the right words. “We have hundreds who need protection! Where will we go?”
The weight of his words silenced Fiona, leaving her scrambling for a response. Ariana, standing a few steps behind her, straightened, her voice cutting through the tension. “Your Majesties, if I may?”
Alistair glanced at her, his gaze softening slightly. He gave a small nod, allowing her to continue.
“You’ll be leaving here with the Inquisition,” Ariana said firmly, her tone brooking no argument.
Fiona turned to Ariana, her expression wary. “And what are the terms of this… arrangement?”
Ariana’s expression didn’t waver. “I can assure you, they are better than the slavery offered by the Tevinter Imperium.”
“They have lost all possible supporters. The Inquisition is their only remaining chance for freedom,” Solas added evenly.
Ariana’s jaw tightened, her tone steady but unyielding. “You’ll join us as allies, under close supervision. The Inquisition has no intention of enslaving you, but after this, we need assurances.” Her gaze didn’t waver, her authority palpable. “It’s a better offer than the one Alexius gave you. And your people will survive.”
Alistair folded his arms, his voice cutting through the tension. “I’d take that offer if I were you. One way or another, you’re leaving my kingdom.”
Fiona hesitated, clearly reluctant, but finally inclined her head. “Very well,” she said, her voice resigned. “I’ll ready my people for the journey to Haven.”
Alistair stepped closer to Ariana, his posture relaxing just slightly as he folded his arms. “It’s been a while,” he said, a faint smile breaking through his earlier severity.
“It has,” Ariana replied, her lips curving into a small smile despite the storm still raging in her chest. “I trust Antiva treated you well?”
“Not nearly as exciting as this,” Alistair quipped, gesturing to the castle around them. “But I did manage to avoid any Tevinter magisters, so that’s a win.”
“From what Varric and Isabela told me, it probably would’ve been easier if I’d brought you along,” Alistair quipped.
Ariana chuckled. “Always. But I wasn’t for hire that day,” she replied, her expression softening. Then, more seriously, she added, “I am sorry I wasn’t able to get here before… well… all this.”
“It’s alright,” Alistair reassured her. “Luckily, we didn’t suffer any casualties, and it still seems the Inquisition did most of the work.” His tone shifted to something more playful as he added, “So… Herald of Andraste, is it now?”
Ariana rolled her eyes with a groan. “That’s what they tell me.”
“How does that hand thingy work?” Alistair asked, grinning as Queen Anora sighed in exasperation and walked away.
She chuckled softly, indulging in the light-hearted banter for a few more moments. When Alistair excused himself to address his troops, Ariana turned back to Cassandra, Dorian, and Solas, her tone once again commanding. “You can handle the mages from here?” she asked, though it wasn’t really a question.
Cassandra nodded, her expression understanding. “Of course.”
Ariana didn’t wait for further confirmation. She was already moving, her steps brisk as she left the castle behind.
The crisp air of Redcliffe hit her like a balm as she stepped outside, but it didn’t slow her pace. Everything about the world told her they were back where they were supposed to be. The castle was uncorrupted, the sky free of the sickly glow of the future they’d glimpsed. And yet, Ariana couldn’t shake the clawing unease gnawing at her chest. She needed to get back to Haven. Now.
Her heart raced, every step toward the horses a struggle not to break into a full sprint. He’s alive, she told herself firmly, trying to steady her thoughts. He has to be. This is our time again. That future doesn’t exist anymore.
But the memory of Leliana’s words haunted her. He believed you were alive. He held onto that hope until the end.
Her breath hitched as the guilt swelled again, threatening to drown her. She hadn’t been there for him, hadn’t said the words that had been clawing at her throat since Kirkwall. And yet, he had held onto her, even in his darkest moments.
This time will be different, she vowed silently. I’ll make sure of it.
By the time she reached her horse, her hands trembled as she gripped the reins. She mounted quickly, her thoughts a whirlwind of hope and desperation. Every second spent away from Haven felt unbearable. She needed to see him, hold him, make sure he was real—and tell him everything.
As the castle disappeared behind her and the road stretched ahead, only one thought drove her forward: Hold on, Cullen. I’m coming back to you. This time, I’ll say everything I should have said.