fadewalk

It happened the way it had before: one moment he was striding down the hall, heading to the War Room to reorganize the supplies (considering posting a guard so they could at least be positive the records remained accurate when people kept sneaking in to help themselves instead of going through proper channels and, no, he was not going to get uptight about this again) and the next moment he was standing in front of the eluvian.

It happened so fast only finely honed instincts kept him from crashing through. Cullen jerked back, one hand falling to the hilt of his sword...the knuckles nearly brushing the glassy surface of the dark mirror.

Nearly was enough. A dark tendril reached from the mirror and before he could pull back, he was being enveloped--yanked through, consumed in a watery ripple of light.

And then he was gone.

**

The prison he came to was strange. And dark. And cold.

There was no food. The only water came from the dew that wended its way down the stone walls. There was no door, no window, and no escape. He searched for a way out, at first panicked, and then methodical, and then just because there was nothing else to do but think and begin to waste away. Eventually, he stayed curled on his side to conserve his strength, letting himself gradually detach, unmoor.

Begin to give up.

It was at the moment he closed his eyes and let himself think, At least in the end there is some measure of peace that the darkness swallowed him and he was stumbling out of the mirror and crumpling to the floor.

Back in Skyhold once more.