“In this the truth is found. Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.”

Cullen is on a knee before the altar of Andraste; head bowed and sword at his side. The Inquisitor steps in behind him, almost silently but he knows those footsteps anywhere.

“A prayer for you?” the Inquisitor asks, voice soft as to not shatter the thin layer of comfort that this room brings.

Cullen stands, looking over his shoulder and offering a kind smile, “I hardly know.”

They know what this is; what this means. Following the events at the Temple of Mythal, that only leaves one more battle to win.

Defeating Corypheus.

It is not something done lightly. Cullen is to command the army while sending the one he loves the most to fight their strongest opponent.

Fear has never gripped him so tightly as it does right now.