Protagonist's POV – Racing Back to Greystone
The smoke was still rising, a dark column against the pale sky, twisting and curling like a warning.
My heart pounded as I ran, feet hitting the dirt in rhythm with my pulse. Varric was beside me, his face set in grim determination, but he didn't say a word. No one did. We all knew what the smoke could mean—raiders, another attack, or something worse. My mind raced with possibilities, each one darker than the last.
Keep it together. I had to focus. Whatever was happening, Greystone needed us.
But even as I sprinted toward the village, I felt that familiar, unsettling tingle at the back of my neck—the one that always meant trouble. My Danger Sense was buzzing like a live wire, but it wasn't sharp or immediate like before. It was more like… anticipation, like the ground beneath me was waiting to crack open.
We reached the edge of the village, and I skidded to a halt. My breath caught in my throat, and my stomach twisted.
The village wasn't in ruins. No Drakkan swarmed the gates. No raiders were tearing down the walls. But the western part of the village was smoldering, thick black smoke still curling from the charred remains of several structures. Villagers ran back and forth, carrying buckets of water, shouting orders, and trying to put out the last of the flames.
I could see it in their faces—panic, fear, confusion.
"What the hell happened?" Varric muttered beside me, his eyes scanning the chaos.
I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. "I don't know, but we need to find Kara. She'll know what's going on."
We pushed through the crowd, dodging villagers and debris as we made our way toward the center of the village. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and burned wood. I felt the weight of every step, as if the ground itself was resisting me, pulling me down.
My Danger Sense was still buzzing, but now it was tangled with something else—something that felt like memory, like déjà vu. Each breath felt heavier, each heartbeat louder. And then, suddenly, it hit me.
A flash—sharp and vivid, like lightning behind my eyes.
I was somewhere else. A village, but not Greystone. There were flames, too, but this fire was roaring, out of control. People screamed, running in all directions, their faces twisted in terror. I saw their eyes, full of fear, looking to me for answers, for leadership.
But I didn't have any. Not then. I'd failed them.
It's happening again.
My heart lurched, and I snapped back to the present, my hands trembling at my sides. I took a shaky breath, trying to push the flash away, trying to stay focused. But it lingered, the faces from that past fire blending with the ones here, now.
"Kara," I muttered, forcing myself to keep moving. "We need to find her."
We rounded the corner, and there she was—standing in the middle of the chaos, shouting orders, her face smudged with soot. Relief flooded through me, but it was quickly replaced by something heavier. She looked exhausted. Worse than that—she looked alone.
I called out to her. "Kara!"
Her head snapped in my direction, and the moment she saw me, her eyes narrowed. Not in relief, but in frustration. She didn't look happy to see me.
"Kara, what happened?" I asked, rushing toward her, my breath still ragged from the run. "Is everyone okay?"
She crossed her arms over her chest, her expression cold. "A fire. Started by one of the workers while they were trying to fix the western wall. Got out of control before anyone could stop it."
"Anyone hurt?"
"No, not seriously. Just some burns. But the fire… it spread fast. Too fast. We're lucky it didn't take out the entire village." Her voice was tense, clipped. "Where the hell have you been?"
I blinked, caught off guard by the edge in her voice. "We went to Stonecradle. We were trying to secure an alliance—"
"Yeah, well, while you were off playing diplomat, the village was falling apart," she snapped. "I've been trying to hold things together, but it's been chaos. And now this." She gestured to the smoldering ruins behind her.
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in my throat. She was right. I hadn't been here. I'd left her to deal with everything on her own, and now the village was paying the price.
"I'm sorry," I said, the words tasting hollow in my mouth. "I didn't—"
"Didn't what? Didn't think?" Kara's eyes flashed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides. "You've been distant, Stray. Ever since the flashes started, you've been… different. And now you're not even here when we need you the most."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I wanted to argue, to defend myself, but deep down, I knew she was right. I had been distant. The flashes had been pulling me away, making me question everything. And now, standing here in the aftermath of the fire, I could feel it again—that same fear from the past. The fear that I wasn't fit to lead.
"Kara, I—"
"Don't," she said, cutting me off. "Just… don't. We need to put the fire out and rebuild. Again. If you're going to be here, then be here. Otherwise, stay out of the way."
I clenched my jaw, biting back the flood of emotions that threatened to spill out. This wasn't the time for an argument. The village needed us. Kara needed me.
"Alright," I said quietly. "Let's fix this."
Kara's POV – A Leader's Frustration
The moment I saw him, something in me snapped.
For days, I'd been holding the village together with little more than grit and sheer willpower. Every decision, every order—it all fell on my shoulders. Stray had left for Stonecradle, leaving me behind to manage the chaos, and I'd done the best I could. But when the fire broke out, it felt like the village was falling apart right in front of me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
And now he was back. Just in time to see the damage.
He looked at me, his face pale, his eyes distant—like he wasn't really here. Like he was somewhere else, lost in his own head, just like he'd been for days. And it made me furious.
"Where the hell have you been?" I demanded, crossing my arms to keep from shaking. I was exhausted. I hadn't slept in days, and now the fire had pushed me to the edge.
Stray tried to explain—something about securing an alliance with Stonecradle. But it felt like an excuse, a distraction. While he'd been off dealing with other villages, I'd been the one left to deal with Greystone. And now, after everything, he had the nerve to act surprised?
"I'm sorry," he said, but the words rang hollow. He didn't get it. He didn't understand what it was like to carry the village's weight on your shoulders, to make every decision while everyone looked to you for answers. He'd been drifting—lost in his flashes, lost in his own problems—and I was the one picking up the pieces.
"Sorry doesn't fix this," I snapped. "If you're going to be here, then be here. Otherwise, stay out of the way."
I could see the hurt in his eyes, but I didn't care. Not right now. I was too tired, too angry to care.
Without another word, I turned and walked away, barking orders to the villagers as I went. There was still work to be done—damage to assess, people to help—and I couldn't afford to waste any more time on Stray's issues.
Protagonist's POV – The Weight of the Past
The fire was out, but the damage was done.
I stood near the edge of the village, watching as the last embers died down. The air still smelled like smoke, thick and acrid, and I could hear the distant sounds of villagers talking in low, worried tones. They were shaken. And I couldn't blame them.
Kara's words echoed in my head. If you're going to be here, then be here.
She was right. I'd been distant. The flashes, the memories—they'd pulled me away from everything I was supposed to be focused on. The village. The people. Her. They all relied on me, and instead of stepping up, I'd been chasing shadows in my mind, haunted by memories that weren't even mine to begin with. And now, because I hadn't been paying attention, Greystone was falling apart.
The villagers had started calling me "Stray," a nickname that had stuck. And maybe they were right. I was a stray, wandering from one crisis to another, never truly finding my place. I'd told myself it didn't bother me, that I didn't need to belong. But standing here, watching the village I was supposed to protect smoldering in the aftermath of yet another disaster, I wasn't so sure.
I had to stop running from whatever this was—these flashes, these fragmented pieces of a life I didn't understand. Kara needed me here, not lost in some half-remembered nightmare. The village needed me here.
But every time I closed my eyes, every time I let myself breathe, the flashes came rushing back. Faces I didn't know but felt like I should. Fires burning, decisions made in the heat of battle. I had led before, hadn't I? In another life. And I had failed. I couldn't shake that feeling—that everything I was doing now was just a repeat of whatever failure had come before. That whatever happened in my past life, whatever choices I'd made, had left me here: a stray, without a name, without a purpose, without answers.
What if I fail again?
I clenched my fists, the tension coiling in my muscles. I couldn't keep going like this. The village needed more than a leader who was halfway here. They needed someone who wasn't afraid to stand at the front and make the hard choices. The fire had almost destroyed them, and they were looking to me for reassurance. For strength.
I don't even know if I have that strength left in me.
I turned and walked away from the edge of the village, my feet heavy as I made my way toward the remaining survivors. They were huddled together, talking in low whispers, throwing nervous glances in my direction. I couldn't blame them for being wary. I'd been gone when they needed me, just like I had been in the flashes. Just like before.
But Kara was wrong about one thing: I wasn't distant because I didn't care. I was distant because every time I tried to care, something in my mind pulled me back into the past. Something kept telling me that I'd already seen all of this before. And I wasn't sure if I could change the outcome.
I didn't have time to figure it out, though. Not right now. I had to focus on what was in front of me.
Varric's POV – A Protector's Dilemma
I gripped my hammer tighter as I stood near the charred remains of the western wall, surveying the damage. The fire had torn through it quicker than we could react, and it left a gnawing feeling in my gut. Something wasn't right. Maybe it was just nerves after the Drakkan attack, or maybe it was the way the villagers had been looking at each other since the fire broke out. Fear had a funny way of turning friends into enemies.
It reminded me of a time not too long ago, before the village had fallen under Stray's quiet leadership. Back when things had been simpler, at least in some ways. Back when we'd relied on brute strength and stubbornness to survive. We didn't have much, but we had trust. That trust felt more fragile now, like the smallest spark could burn it all away.
I looked over at Stray, standing off to the side, lost in thought again. Kara had laid into him earlier, and maybe she was right. He hadn't been the same since the flashes started. He was distracted, distant, like his mind was somewhere else. I'd seen that kind of look before in soldiers who'd been on the battlefield too long—haunted, always seeing ghosts in the corners of their vision.
But Stray wasn't just some soldier. He was the closest thing Greystone had to a leader. And whether he liked it or not, people looked to him. Including me. I wasn't blind to his faults, but I'd seen him step up when it mattered. I'd seen him make the tough calls, even when he didn't want to. There was something in him, something strong. He just had to find it again.
"Varric."
I turned to see Elara, one of the village's younger fighters, walking toward me. She was covered in soot, her face smudged with dirt from the fire. She had been helping with the cleanup, but I could see the strain in her eyes. She was scared. They all were.
"What is it?" I asked, my voice low.
Elara paused, glancing over her shoulder before speaking again, her voice trembling slightly. "The villagers… some of them are saying Eldric started the fire. They think he's dangerous."
I frowned. "That's just talk. They're scared, looking for someone to blame."
"I know, but… Varric, I saw the way they were looking at him earlier. They're not just scared. They're angry. If something happens—"
I didn't let her finish. "I'll handle it."
She nodded, relief washing over her features, before turning back to help with the cleanup. I stood there for a moment, letting her words sink in. The villagers were already on edge after the Drakkan attack, and now with the fire… tensions were running high. Eldric had always been an odd presence in the village—too calm, too cryptic. He enjoyed stirring the pot, watching people squirm.
I wasn't sure if he'd started the fire, but I knew one thing: if the villagers turned on him, it could tear the village apart.
I made my way through the village, heading toward where Eldric usually hung around. I didn't like the man, but I wasn't about to let the situation get worse. Not while I still had a say in it.
Eldric's POV – Master of Shadows
The air still smelled of smoke, the kind that clung to your clothes and lingered in the back of your throat. It was a reminder of the chaos that had nearly consumed the village, but to me, it was just another step in the game.
I watched from the sidelines, always in the periphery, never too close, never too far. The fire had been an unfortunate accident, yes. But the way the villagers reacted? Now that was something worth observing.
Fear was a curious thing. It crept in slowly, at first, like a chill down your spine. But give it time—feed it with whispers and doubt—and it would spread like wildfire. And right now, Greystone was ripe for it. The fire had left the villagers vulnerable, and when people felt vulnerable, they did stupid things. They looked for someone to blame. Someone like me.
I could feel their eyes on me, even when they thought I wasn't paying attention. The accusations had already started swirling, quiet at first, but growing louder with each passing moment. They thought I'd started the fire. And why not? I was the outsider, the one who always seemed to know more than I let on.
I smiled to myself. Let them think what they wanted. It played right into my hands.
Varric was making his way toward me, his broad frame cutting through the crowd like a hammer through glass. I could see the tension in his stride, the way his hands clenched and unclenched around the handle of his hammer. He was a protector by nature, always looking for a threat to smash. And right now, I was the closest thing to one.
"Eldric," he said, his voice low, almost a growl.
I leaned against the wall of the blacksmith's shop, my arms crossed, watching him with lazy amusement. "Ah, Varric. Come to accuse me of something, have you?"
He glared at me, his eyes dark with suspicion. "People are saying you started the fire."
"People say a lot of things," I replied, my tone light. "Doesn't make them true."
"You didn't answer the question."
I smiled, letting the silence stretch just long enough to unsettle him. "No, Varric. I didn't start the fire. But I can't say I'm surprised people think I did."
"And why's that?"
"Because it's easier to blame the outsider than to face the real problem." I pushed off the wall, stepping closer to him, my voice dropping to a whisper. "The village is falling apart, Varric. The Drakkan attack, the fire… it's all been too much. The people are scared, and when people are scared, they look for a scapegoat. Someone to focus their anger on."
His jaw tightened, but I could see the conflict in his eyes. He didn't trust me—he never had—but he knew I wasn't the real problem. Not yet, anyway.
"Tell your people to be careful, Varric," I said, my voice soft but sharp. "Fear is a dangerous thing. It can turn friends into enemies faster than you think."
I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, his mind spinning with doubt. He'd come to confront me, but I'd left him with something far more dangerous than suspicion. I'd left him with the seeds of doubt.
And doubt was a powerful tool.
Kara's POV – Holding it Together
I stood by the smoldering ruins of the western wall, my arms crossed over my chest, watching as the villagers worked to clear the debris. The fire was out, but the damage was done. Not just to the village, but to us. To everything we'd been trying to hold together since the Drakkan attack.
The tension in the village was palpable. I could feel it in the way people talked to each other, in the way they moved—cautious, like they were afraid that one wrong word or one wrong step would set everything ablaze again. And maybe it would.
Stray had come back, but he hadn't been here when it mattered. Not really. And that hurt more than I wanted to admit. I wasn't angry at him—I was frustrated. Frustrated that he couldn't see what I was seeing. That while he was lost in his flashes, lost in his own head, I was the one picking up the pieces.
I glanced over at him, standing off to the side, his eyes distant again. He was here, but not here. And I needed him to be here. The village needed him.
I wanted to go to him, to tell him to snap out of it, to stop dwelling on whatever ghosts were haunting him. But I didn't. I couldn't. Not yet. There was too much at stake, and I couldn't afford to show any more weakness than I already had.
The villagers were looking to me now, more than ever. And I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold it together.
Protagonist's POV – A Decision
The fire was out, but the damage was done. Not just to the village, but to me. To everything I'd been trying to hold together since I woke up in this world.
I wasn't the leader they needed. Not like this. Not with these memories—these flashes—constantly pulling me away, reminding me of something I couldn't control. Something I couldn't change.
But Kara's words kept echoing in my mind. If you're going to be here, then be here.
She was right.
I had to be here. No more drifting, no more running from the past. The village needed me, and I needed to find a way to be the leader they thought I was.
No more straying. No more ghosts.
I had to make a choice. And it had to be now.
I clenched my fists, feeling the weight of the decision settle over me like a heavy cloak.
I would be here. Fully.
No more shadows.
No more Stray.