Morning light bled across the city like pale fire, washing the rooftops in gold. But the brightness didn't reach the hollow in Aubrey's chest. Sleep hadn't come. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the Watchers bending toward Mara, their whispering mouths opening in unison.
Varric had disappeared before sunrise. No explanation. No promise to return. Just gone.
That left Aubrey and Mara walking the streets together, heads low. The city was moving again—vendors shouting, kids running between alleys, music leaking from broken radios. To everyone else, the world spun the same. But Aubrey couldn't shake the sense that threads were tightening around them.
Mara finally broke the silence. "You didn't have to stay."
Aubrey glanced at her. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, hair tangled from the long night. But her voice had steel under the weariness.
"You think I'd just leave you out here?" he said.
Her lips twitched, almost a smile. "Most would. I'm… not exactly a safe person to be around anymore."
"You think I'm safe?" Aubrey asked, letting a bit of fire curl in his palm before closing his fist. "We're in the same mess."
Her eyes lingered on his hand, the faint glow beneath his skin. "Then maybe we shouldn't be near each other. Two broken pieces don't make a whole."
Aubrey stopped walking. His voice was quiet, but firm. "Sometimes they do."
The words hung between them. Mara's gaze flickered away, but the tension in her shoulders eased slightly.
---
They ducked into an old diner at the edge of Southpoint, one of the few still standing. Cracked vinyl booths, flickering lights, and the smell of burnt coffee filled the air. Normal. Comfortably normal.
Aubrey almost believed it—until he noticed the man at the counter. He wasn't eating. Just sitting, hands folded, eyes hidden under a hat too low for the light.
The hair on Aubrey's neck rose.
Mara followed his gaze. "What is it?"
"Don't look," Aubrey murmured.
But it was too late. The man turned slightly, revealing a pale scar tracing down his cheek. His lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile.
Then he was gone. Not walked out the door—gone.
The air grew colder.
Aubrey's fists clenched, Bloodfire pulsing under his skin. "They're already here."
The windows shook as if struck by a passing freight train. The lights flickered. The few customers still inside looked around, confused, but none of them seemed to notice the temperature drop.
Only Aubrey and Mara felt it.
Shadows bled from the corners of the diner, pooling like ink. Figures began to rise—tall, faceless, their movements jagged, like they were stitched together wrong.
Watchers.
Mara pressed back against the booth, panic flashing across her face. "Here? In the open?"
"They don't care anymore," Aubrey growled.
He leapt over the table, crimson fire bursting from his arms, blades forming with a roar of heat. The Watchers lunged. Customers screamed—but their eyes slid past the monsters, like reality itself refused to let them see.
Glass shattered, tables overturned, the smell of burning filled the diner. Aubrey slashed, fire carving through shadow, but for every Watcher he struck down, another clawed its way up from the floor.
One broke through his guard, its claw grazing his ribs. Pain flared white-hot. Aubrey staggered, nearly falling—until a burst of sound ripped through the air.
Mara screamed.
Not like before. Not fear. Something deeper, sharper. Her voice split the shadows like lightning, throwing the Watchers back. Windows shattered, light bulbs burst, and for a heartbeat the whole diner shook as if caught in a storm.
Silence followed.
The Watchers had vanished. Gone as quickly as they came.
Aubrey stared at Mara, chest heaving. "You… did it again."
Her hands shook as she clutched the table. "I didn't mean to. I don't know how."
But Aubrey wasn't listening to the excuse. He had seen the way the Watchers reacted. The way they recoiled from her voice like it was fire.
And in that moment, a dangerous thought sparked in his mind:
Maybe Mara wasn't just caught in this war.
Maybe she was the key to it.