Chapter Text
Evelyn Amell was running for her life. Her footsteps thudded against the stone floor, her eyes were frantic as she dodged a falling body. She did not know if they were dead, though they soon would be. Evelyn could feel the heat emanating from the rage demon, no doubt about to prey upon the poor person she’d run by. She couldn’t stop to help. She wanted to, but fear was pumping through her veins, like ice flooding her body. She flicked her head round and felt a burst of relief. He was still there, still behind her. He had not fallen to the demons and blood mages. Jumping over yet another body, the thought sickening her, all those mages and templars, her friends; dead or corrupted. She needed to stop. Her lungs were aching, her muscles aching and her head was beginning to feel woozy.
In a split second decision, she threw herself into a nearby room. She could only hope it was empty. To her relief, her prayers were answered and she collapsed, gasping for air as the door slammed behind her by a templar. She quickly cast a barrier around the door using the last of her strength. The templar slid down the door, he too breathing heavily. His concern however, was only for the mage before him. His eyes searched her body for any wounds, and her eyes from any signs of corruption. She stared back at him determinedly, she too, looking over him. Satisfied, he breathed a small sigh of relief, closing his eyes as his head leaned back against the door. Evelyn tried to fight off the thoughts and emotions reeling around in her mind. She needed a clear head, to protect herself from corruption. She pressed her hands to her temples, focusing on her breathing.
“Evelyn?”
Evelyn’s eyes snapped open, her first name sounded unfamiliar coming from him. Usually it was Amell but now was not the time for formalities. She found the templar sat inches away from her, his copper eyes trained on her, “Cullen, we need to get to Irving and Greagoir. The Circle’s falling, and they’re the only chance of survival.”
Cullen’s expression displayed how Evie felt; total and utter horror. They’d lost the others shortly after the attacks started. Clarissa, Lenora, Henley, Ser Hadley all but disappeared as they had fled the Mage Quarters, and...Thomas and Ser Morris. Evie’s eyes scrunched up as she fought off the memories of their deaths. A single tear fell down her cheek, instantly brushed away by the gloved hand of Cullen. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, the templar now masking his fear. He pulled her into his arms, his chest plate cold against her cheek. She clung to him desperately, her arms groping him.
“C-cullen,” She stammered her voice shaking with fear, “I’m scared. Please...please don’t let me become one of them.”
“I would die before I let that happen.”
His voice was strong, confident, much more so than he felt but he could not afford to be scared. For her sake. Evie took a deep breath, trying to stifle her cries. Cullen’s words gave her faith, hope. As long as he was there, she was safe. She looked up at him and somehow managed a small, thankful smile.
They hid in that room, which was no more than a storage room, recuperating their strength for little over an hour. Evie’s barrier protecting them from the blood mages and demons that awaited outside. For a while, Evie wondered if they could ride out the chaos in this room, awaiting rescue. Though, deep down, she knew that was unlikely. Her fears were confirmed as a loud thump caused the two to jump to their feet. Evie’s breathing quickened as her heart hammered in her chest, blood pumping through her ears.
“They’re going to break down the door,” Cullen said, mostly to himself, “Oh, maker…”
“We need to get to Irving.”
He turned to Evie and grabbed her shoulders rather roughly, his eyes searching her face for some form of a plan.
“We need to get to Irving,” She repeated, speaking with urgency. “He was in a meeting in the Harrowing chamber. Maybe if we’re lucky, Greagoir will be there too, and Wynne, she was there. It’s not far. We can make it.”
“I’ll go first,” He ordered, his hands in a tight grip on her arms. “Take out...whatever is outside, you stay right behind me. We’ll head straight for the stairs. Okay?”
Evie nodded slowly, numbly. Had she been in a more fit state of mind, she would’ve insisted she go first with some form of ranged spell, to rid them of any immediate danger. She jumped, another thud crashing into the door. Sweat began to drip down her forehead as she panicked. She glanced up at Cullen, his face focused on the door, a hard, determined expression upon it. With a shaky grip, she held her staff out just in time for the door to come off its hinges, falling to the floor. Cullen jumped to action, he dispelled the blood mage’s magic, and swung his sword into the mage without second thought before fleeing the room. Evie’s eyes widened in horror at the brutality, but it was what he was trained to do. This was what templars were for, and they were fighting for their lives. She electrocuted the pride demon heading for Cullen, and took off after him.
The hallway was in a worse state than it had been the hour previous. Bodies littered the floor, mages, templars, demon remains, skeletal remains. Necromancy. The blood mages had turned to raising the dead too. She did not dwell for long, Cullen calling her name, running for him. They were not far from the Harrowing chamber. They could make it. Cullen called to her again, this time in alarm. She, foolishly, stopped to look behind her. Several demons were heading for her, a blood mage in tow. She froze one of the demons, firing flames at another, but it did not slow them. She shouldered her staff and ran with all the energy she had left. But it was as if Cullen was not getting any closer. His hand held out for her. The blood mage cast a wall of ice in front of her, halting her in her tracks. Cullen was running towards her, his sword raised. With all her remaining mana, she raised her staff and slammed it into the ground, sending earthquake like tremors through the floor. The ice behind her shattered, no longer barring her path, and the blood mage fell to his knees, unable to stand. The remaining demons however still moved towards her, deterred only a little by the tremors. Cullen grabbed her wrist, pulling her along but one of the demons sent a spell towards her, knocking her out of the templars grasp and to the floor. An ear-piercing scream was ripped from the mages throat as she fell to the floor, the demon inches away from her. Cullen had fallen too, and he was shuffling away from her, no longer able to mask his fear and crying out in horror. The demon overcame her, and Evie could feel her energy fleeing her as the other demons attacked her. Pain was shooting through every nerve in her body. She was becoming smothered by them. Evie reached out for Cullen, her hand shaking with the effort.
“Cullen,” She cried weakly, “Cullen. Help me.”
Time almost froze as she stared at the templar, his eyes and mouth wide in horror. Her crystal blue eyes bore into his, begging, pleading for his aid, for her life. She could see the devastation the blood mages had inflicted, the fire, the death, the decay, reflected in his glassy eyes, now devoid of all emotion. And it was that moment she knew, she was alone. The templar scrambled to his feet and began to run. In the opposite direction. Towards the Harrowing Chamber. Evie called out to him again, despite knowing her efforts were futile. Darkness began to encroach on the edges of her vision. The pain began to dull. She could still hear the sounds of Cullen’s footfalls, his armor clanking as he ran. Away from her. The last of her energy fled from her body as the darkness overcame her and she uttered her last words.
“Cullen…”