Chapter One

He could barely believe it. Out of all the people who were at the conclave and could have survived the only survivor they found was one woman. And not only that. An elf and most likely slave from Tevinter, judging from her clothing and leather collar around her neck.

Cullen kept starring into the flames of the bonfire while sorting his thoughts.

It has been two days since the breach had appeared and the survivor was still unconscious. The healer spoke to Cassandra at length about her fever and trashing and about some odd mark on the palm of her left hand.

It appeared that whatever the mark was, it was killing her and should that happen their chance for finding out what has happened or even stopping the breach looked more grim than ever.

Former Knight-Captain sighed and stood up. He might as well go and get a look at the survivor. He only saw her from the distance once, when they brought her here and who knows, perhaps Maker will give him some idea how to fix this mess.

They held the prisoner in the holding cells beneath the Chantry. This was the first time he had set foot here and already he hated the place. The damp and cold wind blew through the corridor and only few torches sparsely illuminated the walls.

Suddenly Cullen was rather glad he was not the one being interrogated or held by Cassandra here. As much as he respected the Seeker she had been beyond grief and anger these past two days and Cullen was sure that the prisoner got actually lucky by being knocked out with fever. Who knows how Seeker would have reacted if she could actually talk to the elf.

Cullen made his way forward and nodded in greetings to the two guards at the door. As expected, Solas the apostate mage was inside, doing his best to keep the prisoner alive. Although what exactly did he do was a mystery.

"Good evening." Cullen cleared his throat and half whispered the greetings. For some reason the whole somber atmosphere of underground prison made him feel like whispering was the most appropriate.

"Ah. Evening." The apostate replied in his typical flat tone of voice his eyes only registering Cullen for split second before turning back to the small frame lying on the stone floor.

Cullen looked at the prisoner and with mild anger noticed that she still had the same clothes as when they brought her here two days ago. Stained with dirt and mud and to add to it she was resting on only one blanket, a poor layer to separate her from cold, stone floor.

He will need to talk to Cassandra about this. He understood her anger but this was not helping.

"How is she?" He asked finally, now focusing his gaze on the prisoner's face. She was small, as all elves were. With darker shade of skin which now looked unhealthy ashen at her face and he noticed beads of sweat glistening on her forehead.

Then he noticed the marks. He saw few Dalish elves, there was one clan around Kirkwall for years. But these looked different. Not curved and delicate as he saw on the elves in Free marches but sharp and pointy. And golden.

His eyes followed the intricate design and he noticed it crossed both her cheeks and ran up over the eyes. Even eyelids! Cullen bit his bottom lip. That must have hurt. The lines smoothly disappeared into her raven black hair.

"Her fever lowered but it seems the breach is reacting with the mark on her hand. I am trying to prevent it, though it proves quite difficult. So far." Solas replied after some time.

Cullen nodded and looked at the mark which everyone spoke of. Faint, green light emitted from her palm and just as he was looking a brighter flash sprung up and the prisoner shook in one painful tremor.

"As you can see, her prospect is not good." Solas regarded the trashing of his charge with the same flat voice and proceeded to gently lay his hand in hers.

"I will need to focus if I am to produce any results at all."

Cullen could get a hint when he heard it and with a small huff and a nod turned to leave the room.

This was worse than he had thought. Not only he had no idea what was going on but he was also completely powerless to help in anyway. He hated that. Perhaps it would have been better if he had spent some time at the training dummies. At least he could clear his mind that way.

That was the first time he saw the prisoner.

Second time was one day later. Whatever it was that helped in her treatment worked and he saw her being hurled out of the Chantry by Cassandra. He hands bound with a thick rope, her shoulders slumped and her legs shaking.

Maker's breath they did not even give her time to recover from battling death for three days and already they dragged her towards The Breach.

He could understand the urgency but at the same time he pitied the elf. He got the report. She was indeed an elf slave from Tevinter. Apparently accompanyed her master to the Conclave meeting.

She could not recall anything about what had happened or how she got the mark and apparently agreed to help. Although Cullen had to wonder how much agreement there really was. She had no choice really. If she refused Cassandra would have dragged her to the Breach anyway and Cullen was half sure that due to her social status she would not have dared to refuse anything anyway.

He watched them disappear behind the wooden palisade and after the gate closed muttered quick prayer to Andraste for success and safe return.

And truly enough they did return. Well not in a manner he imagined but when he stood on the palisade and saw The Breach calm his hopes soared higher than he anticipated.

Few hours later Cassandra and others returned. As did the prisoner. She had been unconscious again and they found her a resting place in a small, secluded cabin. He wondered just how much toll can such small woman endure. He also wondered when was the last time she ate or drank.

When Cassandra arrived with the prisoner in her arms, Cullen thought for sure she was dead. Her skin was even paler than before and her frame looked lifeless, or more exhausted as if closing The Breach drained her whole life from her.

Luckily it was not so. The healer assured them she will live, for now. The mark on her hand calmed and she was resting. And Cullen was puzzled. There were million and more things to be done in Haven but all he could think of was her.

He berated himself over and over about this. But he could not help himself. That tiny elf who risked her life to help moved something in him. Sort of like that one time when he was in the training and found out the boys from nearby village were torturing a stray puppy.

He wanted to help her somehow. Or at least to find more about her. Well he can do as much. Cullen was sure that Leliana by now must have at least something worth reading which would cover some background information about this woman. And so he pushed the million and more things to the back of his mind and set out with firm stride to visit her in her tent.

As Cullen read through the sheet of paper Leliana gave him, his frown deepened and he sighed. He had hoped the spymaster might have gathered more information but alas this was all they had.

Born most likely in Minrathous. Sold to her former master, Tavus Atorian, fifteen years ago.

Her master was attending the Conclave as personal guest of one of the higher ranked Circle magis.

Did her master order her to do this? To explode the Conclave and kill everyone? Or was it all just accident which went horribly wrong? And more importantly what were they supposed to do now?

Cullen sighed again and walked slowly towards the cabin where the prisoner rested. He was curious and he also half hoped that perhaps she would be awake and give him some so much needed answers.