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‘H-How?’ the mage asked, coughing up blood as soon as he did.The slim, athletic figure approached him carefully. ‘I am merely a spirit, Hawke. I have been wandering the Fade since my death,’ Fenris responded without even parting his lips to speak. His voice was clear as day, echoing in that wonderful sonorous tune like a melody to a song once lost. Fenris’ spirit leaned closer to help him sit up against a rock—glowing in blue like his lyrium markings once did when he was alive and fighting for his life with each passing day. His spirit-touch was strange. It was as gentle and loving as Hawke remembered, but so very cold on his skin.‘I doubt the circumstance of my death is the cause of my icy touch, Hawke,’ he said suddenly, and Hawke was staring at him in either amazement or disbelief.‘You… read my mind?’ disregarding the pain in his body, Hawke reached for the spirit’s hand. He half-expected his hand to phase through, but strangely Fenris’ hand felt solid. The cold was painful at first, but the longer he held it, the warmer and more familiar it became.The elf’s brow furrowed slightly in thought, then he finally looked up to his former-partner when he formed an answer. ‘No. I… felt it. Your thoughts were so loud and scattered that I heard it from another part of the Fade. I attempted to follow… but you suddenly grew silent. You felt like a whisper. I’m sorry.’Oddly enough, he knew that the spirit before him wasn’t a demon of malice, nor was it an entity of evil. In his heart, there was not a shred of doubt that it really was Fenris. ‘Why are you apologising? Fenris, you died because of me. If anything I should—ARGH!!’ pain jolted through Hawke’s body. Every part of him burned like a thousand hornets had driven their stingers into his flesh, injecting poison into his bloodstream. Withdrawing his hand, the mage tried a rejuvenating spell onto his shoulder to ease the pain but he had run out of mana and potions altogether. Each breath he took was agonising—like he was inhaling the heat of a thousand suns. Each small movement felt like his bones were disintegrating underneath his very flesh.Fenris’s wispy figure hovered over him and he held Hawke’s handsome face carefully in his cold hands. ‘I’m sorry for not standing by your side. In my time here I have learnt that neither of us was right, and that we did not have to end under those circumstances. After all, it takes two hands to clap.’Welcoming the cold embrace and thankful that he was able to stare into Fenris’ beautiful eyes one more, Hawke gave a weak laugh. ‘A…veline?’ he rasped, taking yet another tormenting breath. Fenris nodded, a wistful smile playing on his lips. Maker, you are beautiful.
‘You have suffered. There is isolation and emptiness in you that I fear I understand. A seclusion and wandering that I myself have experienced for many years… before meeting you.’
Hawke took in slow, long, ragged breaths. ‘It was emptiness… I felt… after you—’. The final words of Garrett Hawke died on his lips. In the cold, wispy hands of the spirit of his beloved, the Champion took his last breath and felt nothing but gratitude for this final, quiet, moment.And then he took another.
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‘This is all very strange, Fenris.’The elf laughed and as he did, the area around his chest brightened just a little. ‘You can only imagine what I felt when I first appeared in this… desolation.’Hawke floated around Fenris’ blue form, leaving red tracks of wisps behind him. ‘I’m not actually breathing, am I?’ he asked—his voice clear and filled with life again. His lover shook his head as Hawke—amused with his newfound state—did experimental backflips in the air.‘No. It is a habit you will learn to outgrow soo—‘It started with his gauntlets—they were disintegrating in bits, breaking off from his form and dissipating completely into nothingness. The strangest part of it all? It didn’t hurt. In fact, Fenris felt… relaxed and calm. When Hawke hovered to his side with concern growing on his face, his armour too, started chipping off.‘This is certainly… new,’ Fenris admitted, eyes trailing upwards where their essences were dissipating.Hawke examined their surroundings. It didn’t look any different from before, and it was also eerily quiet. ‘Huh, maybe Father was right. He always theorised that the Fade acted like a sort of crossroads for spirits.’’A crossroads to where, exactly?’ Fenris asked, turning his attention back to his partner.Hawke shrugged and held out his hand. ‘I guess we’ll find out soon enough. We might even meet my family along the way. I think you’ll like Bethany.’Fenris took Hawke’s hand, then stared at their translucent fingers. ‘Hawke. You are not bothered that you are dead?’‘No. So long as I have you by my side,’ the mage responded, still looking on adoringly at Fenris.The cheesy comment earned him a laugh. It was a sound that held weight. A sound that he hadn’t heard and felt since he was alive. ‘Then I shall remain at your side. Permanently, this time.’
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Slowly, their wisps dissipated completely from the Fade as both the spirit of Friendship and Rivalry reunited at long last, leaving only echoes of their memories spread like footsteps on a path.Now, their journey had come to an end.