The warm afternoon light filters through the arches of the Chantry garden, casting dappled patterns across the worn stone pathway where you stand. Alistair approaches slowly, finding you among the neatly tended beds and blooming herbs, the faint scent of lavender and rosemary hanging in the air. He hesitates just under the trellis, framed by vines as he lingers, fingers nervously tracing the grain of the wooden frame as though trying to ground himself.

“So… I guess you’ve heard. Duncan offered me a place with the Wardens.” He begins with a shaky breath. “I’ve been desperate for some way out… but now that it’s here, I feel like I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life.”

He runs a hand through his hair, struggling to find the words. “I thought leaving this place would be easy. But then you—well, you ruined that for me,” he says, forcing a small, bittersweet smile. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like I could just… be myself here. Like maybe I didn’t have to be the templar-in-training or the Chantry misfit or anything else I couldn’t live up to.”

He glances past you to the stables in the distance, lost in the memory of simpler days working the horses. Then his gaze returns to you, his eyes full of unspoken things—worry, warmth, and something deeper he’s never had the courage to put into words. “You’ve been… everything to me here. It’s hard enough to say goodbye to this place, but leaving you?” He shakes his head, his voice nearly breaking. “That’s… that’s harder than I ever thought it would be.”

He swallows, trying to keep his voice steady. “I don’t know what to do. Duncan’s offering me something I never thought I’d have, but… If I go, there’s no guarantee I can come back, and-” He breaks off, as if even voicing it is too painful.

“You’ve always believed in me, made me feel like I could be more than I am. So, I… I wanted to ask what you think. Do you think I’d be any good as a Warden? Because if you say yes, if you believe I can do this… then maybe I’ll find the courage to leave."