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More stairs. I groaned inwardly heading towards them. I knew we must be getting towards the top of the castle and one step closer to opening the door Alexius was hiding behind. In the eerie shadow light of the veil fire torch on the wall, I nearly missed the pools of blood near the doorway. The metallic stench mixed with fear was horrific. A once beautiful sky blue rug soaked up the red liquid and with disgust I noticed runes, markings and circles of blood magic drawn on the rug and stone floor. It looked as fresh as it smelled and I wondered what horror had been summoned on this spot. Now though, beetles and other horrible legged creatures wandered in and out of it undisturbed by the knowledge that it had been someone’s life taken on the floor. I glanced around looking for a body, something that might come back at us, but saw nothing.
We took to the stone stairway, weapons drawn, and followed it up to landing and more stairs. Skeletal remains of soldiers in armor and Redcliffe livery hung from hooks in the ceiling. We’d seen this many times since coming up from the dungeons and I was starting to wonder how anyone could get used to such a sight. I glanced over and saw Dorian wince at the lifeless bodies and knew it still bothered him as well. The others didn’t seem to even see them. I wondered what they had seen in this year that made them immune to such atrocities.
We made it up the last flight of stone stairs, dodging broken masonry and filth. I guessed this to be the Royal quarters where the family would have lived until Alexius threw them from their home. A large beautiful painting of what looked like Redcliffe village with the castle in the background hung on the wall. An enormous white tapestry hung on the wall above the door. I saw the red dragon fighting a red snake and knew it was the heraldry of the Tevinter Imperium. It seemed a desecration of all that had been before the Magister had taken over the castle for his own.
“How much damage did Alexius’ spells do?,” Dorian broke the silence looking around at the broken stone walls and the large gaping hole in the ceiling. Sickly pale green light shafted in through the holes like fake sunlight. It turned the stone walls an eerie green. The shafts of sickly light seemed to soak up the light from everything, leaving an air of hopelessness. We had seen red lyrium throughout the castle but up here, it poked through the floors and whispered hauntingly.
“Rifts tore apart all of Southern Thedas starting here,” Leliana replied, an edge of impatience in her voice. “But whether that’s his doing or the breach, who can say.”
I was taken back at how normal she sounded, like the Leliana I’d left in Haven before coming to Redcliffe. I might have thought it was really her and not this shadow of her bent on vengeance and death. I hated this Leliana, her short angry words, her impatience to get to the Magister quickly. She had been furious to find that Alexius had hidden himself behind a locked door that we couldn't just break down. It was shut with magic and angrily she railed against mages and their powers. When we had rescued her in the torture chambers below, she’d blamed mages, all mages, for what had happened in Ferelden and sounded much like the templars. She had scowled at Dorian and I in disdain and disgust, her surprise at seeing us alive short lived.
“Let’s go,” she demanded sounding more like the Leliana I’d be happy to run through with an ice bolt. Her skeletal face, it’s wrinkling skin drawn tight over her bones was ghastly in the dim light. I thought I caught a hint of a sick smile on her lips as I looked away unable to hold her gaze.
Each room down the hall we found further destruction. What had once been luxurious bedrooms, was now rubble and rotting bed curtains and tapestries. Red lyrium took up whole areas of rooms, growing out of bodies of the fallen, fireplaces, corners, and the floor itself. We made our way through libraries, dining rooms, guard chambers, killing anything that attacked us. I found myself enjoying taking the lives of the Tevinter monsters in our path. Their destruction of the world make it easy and I felt no guilt. Yet, while the destruction was much worse up here, despite dead bodies and grinning skeletons, it didn’t seem as horrifying as the lower floors.
We reached the end of the hall and a door stood slightly ajar. I stepped into the room surveying it for anything out of place or alive. It too had been a bedroom at one time. An enormous four poster bed canopied with dark blue velvet curtains sat on one wall, It looked to have been used recently and I hoped we’d killed it’s occupier in one of the other rooms. The bed was where the normalcy of it ended. More blood magic circles and runes lined the stone floor. The stench of blood, gore, fear and desperation hung in the room and I nearly gagged.
Dorian followed close behind me, his sleeve over his nose to shield the smell. We heard a moan from an adjoining room that I guess would have been a dressing room. He glanced, dark chocolate eyes questioning in silence and I nodded. He grabbed his staff and quietly walked across the floor to see what might be making such a noise.. We’d seen horrific things in Alexius’ world and we never knew what we’d see next. Demons, rifts, skeletal minions had been summoned to do the deeds of the Tevinter mages.
Silently, I motioned for Cassandra, Varric, and Blackwall to wait out in the hall in case it was a trap. Their help was appreciated, but they were rather eerie, their eyes red rimmed and speech slow and monotone. It was almost like they had been made Tranquil in this place. We’d rescued each from cells below in the dungeon, and they had come along willingly wanting to put an end to this life.
“We don’t have time for this,” I heard Leliana hiss to them from outside the room. I loved the woman in my world, but here she was unbearable. Whatever torture they’d done to her had warped whatever had been good in her. She wasn’t evil, but there seemed to be no light left in her eyes, no spark of kindness or feeling for anything but killing Alexius.
I watched ready to attack as Dorian stood looking into the room. I saw him stop abruptly. He turned to look at me, his otherwise caramel skin nearly as white as his robes. His eyes full of horror at whatever he’d seen in the room. “No..,” he whispered.
“What is it Dorian?,” I asked quietly moving towards where he stood.
“No..don’t go in there,” he begged in a whisper moving to block whatever was behind him.
Dorian didn’t frighten easily, and the way he tried to shield me from what was in that room alarmed me. Never one to listen when told what to do, I pushed past him and at that moment wished I had listened.
A large wooden table, slightly tilted upwards held the body of man. His chest was bare and the pants that had once covered his legs were merely slashes of fabric barely covering him. One leg stretched in an unnatural pose, I could see why he’d been moaning in pain. Black and blue patches lined the muscular chest mixing in with green and yellow tinged areas of old bruises. Scabbed slash marks crusted with blood ran sideways along his torso. Healed burn marks ranged over his ribs and stomach. Someone, something, had done precise and intentional cutting and burning to elicit pain and torture. His chest still rose with labored breaths and I suspected each breath was forced.
My eyes unable to stop soaking in the horror before me, traveled up past his chest to the chains holding once powerful arms now bruised and sliced above his head. His face was turned to the wall away from us, but I knew who he was. I saw the dark blonde waves of hair, longer than they were when I had last seen him, but still unmistakably his.
“No,” I gasped as if the wind had been knocked from my body. Body moving on it’s own I found myself at his side, struggling to resist the urge to throw myself on top of him, to shield him from whatever had been done to him.
“What did they do to you?” I whispered, looking down at his face. His skin was sunken and stretched over strong, broad cheekbones. A sheen of sweat gleamed on his yellowed skin. Dark blue smudges made semi circles under his eyes. Stubble poked out on his cheeks and chin. Splotches of blood and cuts lined his face from where someone had tried to shave him quickly and without any sort of grace. His once perfect nose had been broken sometime in the not so distant past and the bridge was a large bump where it had healed unset. Blood dried on his forehead from a gash that had started to scab up.
Despite the damage I would have known this man. I had seen this face many times in my waking hours and in my dreams. The Commander’s handsome face, eyes sparkling with pride as he talked about the Inquisition's soldiers, a shy smile as he gave me flowers on our walk, proud, shining eyes as he showed me the exquisite lion helmet he'd hoped to wear some day, and mournful tearing eyes as he closed the eyes of a fallen soldier flashed through my mind as I stared in disbelief. I had never thought to see his face here. Questions of what had happened to him had crossed my mind countless times, but I had hoped he’d died on the battlefield defending the world with his men. I had taken strength from that thought as we’d made it through this nightmare.
Amber eyes, red tinged and glassed over with fever and pain opened and swung over to look at me. Recognition, then fear and anger all passed across his face. “You aren’t real,” he growled, his voice scratchy and hoarse. He wiggled trying to free his hands from large iron manacles above his head. His glare was murderous. Briefly I was happy they were chained because I feared they would be wrapped around my neck. “You are a demon come back to haunt me again. She’s dead,” He turned his head in defeat and closed his eyes tightly as if doing so would make me disappear. In horror I wondered how many times he had endured this. Had they tortured him with images of me? Of his loved ones?
“No, Cullen, it’s me. I’m not dead.” I begged him to look at me. I leaned over, my fingers lightly stroked each side of his face. His body shivered under my touch and he quit moving. “We came from the past. Dorian and I are going to stop this from happening. I’m going to save you.”
“Can’t... save..me,” he said clenching his jaw against whatever pain he was in. “Too…. late…” I could see the wave of pain as it ripped through his body and I pulled my hands away terrified I’d caused it. I was afraid it had been the green glowing mark on my hand,
I stood there helpless, as his body writhed and shook against the wooden table. His back arched off the table until I thought it might snap in two, his weight suspended on his shoulders and good leg. The manacle chains clamored against the wood as his arms and hands flexed and shook. Whatever was causing him this pain, I couldn’t visually find the reason. His body was badly damaged but nothing, not even the broken leg would have caused him such excruciating pain.
Paralyzed by his pain, I could only watch through tear blurred eyes as his suffering continued, wave after wave of pain smashing into him like the rough seas onto the beach. I didn’t know what to do to fix him, to stop the torture. As the convulsions wracked his body, Cullen continued to scream out, the sound cracked and scratching. Although I knew he was lost in his torment, I begged out loud to him, to the Maker, to anyone to tell me what to do. Scream after agonizing scream tore out of his body and echoed off the stone walls of the room. Each one shooting me like an arrow through the heart.
Just as quickly as the torment came on, it stopped. His muscles still shook but he otherwise laid still for what seemed to be an eternity, eyes closed tightly shut, lips white and pressed in in a hard line. “It wasn’t you,” he whispered as if he could read my mind.
Afraid to send him into such pain again, I hesitantly set to work touching his arms, his legs, his chest to see what I could do to ease his pain. He involuntarily squirmed when I touched a sensitive spot and I took care around the bruises and cuts. To my horror, where he should have had veins of blue they were instead an eerie radiating red. I knew what it was and had seen it growing all over the castle. Red lyrium. How had it gotten inside his body like this? What heinous things had Alexius’ mages done? I breathed a sigh of relief that there wasn’t any growing out of him like the bodies we’d encountered.
My hands shook as I tried to unhook the manacles that held his hands above him. I couldn’t get them to obey me I was shaking so hard. Leaning over his now still body, trying not to touch him, I saw he stared up at me, eyes heavy from the pain he’d endured. “It’s too late Aeryia, they have done... something...to me..put something….in me. It wants to take control. I can’t... fight it off anymore. Don’t..don’t undo my chains.”
At his words the thread holding my emotions together snapped. Tears fell from my face in large drops unchecked on his chest. I caressed his still handsome face with my fingers. “No, tell me what to do please!,” I begged softly, “I can fix this, I can help you. I can’t lose you Cullen. There has to be something I can do!”
His eyes left mine and fell on the dagger that always hung on my belt. I shook my head. I knew what he wanted me to do and I couldn’t. “Please, no Cullen…I can’t..,” I begged. The finality of his request hit me as if the stone walls had just caved in on top of me. My body began to shake with sobs and I had a feeling I might be sick. The room started to spin and fought to keep control. I could feel Dorian’s large warm hands on my shoulder as he steadied me to keep me from falling on top of Cullen. I drew strength from him.
Cullen looked up at the man, eyes pleading with him.“Dorian, you must do it...I can’t fight this off much longer. What I’ll become, I might..I will kill you all…”
Dorian nodded and tried to pull me away from the Commander’s side. I wouldn’t move, I couldn’t move. “No, Dorian please,” I begged refusing to move.
His arms wrapped around me and I turned into his chest. Sobs wracked my body. I could feel his lips near my ear as he whispered, "I know this is hard, but remember this is what we are trying to stop."
“Aeryia,” Cullen breathed, I turned back to him, wiping my eyes on the cloth sleeve of my robe. “Please?”
“Anything but that..,” I whispered.
“Please... give me peace now in death…,” his face contorted in pain again and I knew I couldn't make it through another round of his torment, “..as you do in life. You are my beacon of light in the darkness..and this path.,” he took a deep breath and exhaled trying to push back whatever was trying to control him,”..this path.. they set me on is darkness. I’ve had darkness for too long..I..don’t want darkness...anymore.”
Darkness. I knew darkness tormented him every day and night. We had not spoken in length about it, but he'd hinted about his time during the blight. I knew he'd been imprisoned in the Hinloch mage circle where they'd tortured his mind and tried to break him. He'd been in Kirkwall when the world had gone crazy, second in command to Knight Commander Meredith. I wasn't sure if I could handle all of the dark things he'd seen in his life.
He closed his eyes tightly, a tear sliding down disappearing into his wavy dark blonde hair. He lay quiet and I knew he was waging an internal battle with the evil they’d put inside him. I feared that when he opened his eyes he might not be Cullen. The thought sent a shiver of terror through my body.
When he opened his eyes again, they seemed to clear and he smiled wearily up at me.“ I never got to tell you that I love you...there was never time and I was afraid to tell you. Please I want you to, “ his breath came in a raspy plea, “remember me as the man who loves you and not the monster I’ll become..if you don’t end this. You said you can fix this...promise me you will.”
I stared down at him unsure of what I was hearing. I had loved him for months, a small infatuation for the handsome, shy commander growing into something that scared and excited me at the same time. I had hoped that someday I might hear those three words from his lips. I hadn’t thought I would hear them as he lay dying in front of me.
In my horror at seeing his broken body, I had forgotten this could be fixed. Dorian's whisper came back to me, I could make sure this never happened. It felt so real and I had seen what Alexius was capable of. The horrors we’d faced so far in the keep were monstrous and I knew we'd face other terrifying creations. I couldn’t let Cullen become one of those things, a pawn for Alexius to use against us in the end. I might not be able to stop him if I had to face him again. I held on to the thread of hope that Dorian and I would make it through this and we’d be victorious against Alexius and return back to our own time. Even though I knew Cullen was safe in our own time, I couldn’t shake the heartbreak at seeing this Cullen. This was real here and I couldn't help but feel I was really losing him. I promised myself I would never let this happen. Whether or not it was real, he was still the man I loved.
I bent down and kissed his cracked lips. A stream of tears now ran freely from the sides of his amber eyes. “Our first and last kiss my love,” he whispered into my lips. “I’ll be able to die a happy man.”
I knew he was trying to make light of it but it broke my heart in two. I whimpered and nuzzled into his neck. Tears sprung anew from my eyes to fall mixing with those falling down his cheeks. His words gave me strength and I knew what I had to do. But I wouldn't do it alone.
“Dorian,” I said nodding towards the manacles I’d been trying to unlock earlier. “Please release his hands from the chains.”
Cullen shook his head, fear in his eyes, “No, not both... just in case, please.”
Realizing my intent, Dorian moved to release one of the Commander’s arms; his right arm, his sword arm. He nodded to me, sympathy burning in his eyes. He turned and stepped towards the adjoining bedroom. “I’ll be close if you need me,” he said quietly disappearing behind the wall.
I pulled the dagger from the sheath and laid it on the table next to him. Cullen had given it to me for my name day the month before I’d left for Redcliffe. A beautiful yet powerful blade of red steel, the handle carved with crystal graces and ribbons of steel. He would have had to pay Harritt a good bit of coin to make such a blade. He had saw the dagger and met my eyes. I knew he remembered it too and approved of it being used now. His hand, weak from being chained fell on mine and squeezed it. He then guided my hand just under his heart.
“Remember what I showed you,” he whispered. The day he’d given me the dagger, Cullen had also shown me on a practice dummy how to successfully and mercifully kill an attacker with a dagger. He’d stressed stabbing in and straight up when stabbing from the front to avoid the breastbone. I doubt either of us had ever thought that his gift would be used in such a way.
I looked back down at him, fighting the sobs that threatened to wrack my body and take away the strength I was trying to muster. A clean death was what he deserved, not to linger on in pain and become whatever it was they’d made him. I considered taking his life with magic, quickly and nearly painless. I knew deep down he would never forgive me. He was a warrior, a Templar, a man not afraid to die to the blade.
I wiped my running nose on my other sleeve and bent over one last time to kiss his lips. His free hand reached up to touch a loose strand of brown hair on my cheek and wipe away a tear. He cupped my cheek and I leaned into the palm of his hand. It was as if he was trying to commit to memory the feel the of my skin and the softness of my hair.
I took strength from his touch and knew I had to act before it left me. “I love you,” I whispered pulling away from him and standing. My heart still begged me not to do this while my mind had decided this was the only way.
Cullen smiled, the left side of his mouth rising higher, bringing out the scar that traveled up from his lip. I loved that smile and it broke my heart to see it.
I grabbed the dagger from the table and handed it to him, my hands shaking. He pointed the dagger to where I should give the final blow. “Thank you.” He whispered and nodded he was ready.
Before I could change my mind, I enclosed my hand over his on the daggers handle. With a mournful wail we together plunged the knife in into him. His body arched in pain and shook for a moment as his heart slowed its beating and it came to realize that no more blood would pump through it. I hung my head and held on to the knife unable to let go until his body stopped moving. His warm,strong hand fell from mine to the table. Blood poured hotly through the wound and covered my hand. His life blood trailed down his powerful chest and on to the table, making fat plopping noises as it hit the stone floor.
The world slipped into focus and I could hear Leliana in the hallway, her voice angry, complaining about how long it was taking to head to Alexius. I felt anger and the need for revenge flow through me. As much as I hated her, I knew she was right. We had to end this now, and I was going to kill that son of a bitch if it was the last thing I did.
I tugged the knife out of his chest and put it back in its sheath, blood still dripping from the blade. I looked back up through tear blurred eyes and saw his face. Still, lifeless yet free of the pain and torment, I could see a faint smile on his lips. Fingers shaking, I closed his amber eyes for the last time and kissed his lips. “Go in peace my lion,” I whispered. “I will see you again soon.”