For the past two days, I had been acutely aware of the storm that was gathering ominously inside my skull. Initially, it presented itself as a dull ache, something I believed I could manage to ignore with enough concentration and focus on my tasks at hand. Now, however, as I found myself sitting hunched over my desk in a strained position, surrounded by towering piles of papers that clamored for my immediate attention, the pain had grown pointed. It felt as though a thousand knives were being mercilessly driven through my temples, each one hammering me down into a well of frustration and uncontrolled anger.
My hands were shaking uncontrollably as I forced them against my head, trying to force back the pain from my consciousness. But it did nothing to help, and in fact, my attempt failed miserably. To my horror, it intensified, turning into something much deeper and darker: a burning sensation that was spreading through my chest and reaching right down to the ends of my fingertips.
"Damn it!" I roared in frustration as I swept the whole stack of papers off the desk in a fit of rage. They flew through the air and scattered across the marble floor like dead leaves caught in a fierce wind. The sound of my outburst echoed loudly through the whole room, reverberating off the walls. My vision blurred with the intensity of my emotions, and I could distinctly feel the pulse in my neck thundering loudly, a physical manifestation of my rising anger that was pushing me ever closer to a breaking point.
A sudden knock at the door made me jump, but it only flamed the fire within.
"Your Majesty, are you—" The door burst open, and in strode Chancellor Varric, his presence commanding, yet filled with concern. His eyes, sunken and seeming to bear the weight of the world, widened in shock as he took in the distressing sight of me: a figure hunched over my desk, clutching at my head in anguish, looking very much the madman lost in chaos. "Your Majesty, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.
I hardly registered his words. The sight of him—the thin frame, the tuft of white hair, the concern etched on his face—only added to the blaze. My body moved before my mind could catch up.
"You imbecile!" I yelled with full-throated vehemence as I exploded upwards from the chair. I got my fist sailing before I knew it, connected solidly with his face in an abrupt explosion of anger. He stumbled backwards, crashed into the edge of a shelf in time, his hand flying like lightning up to his head in pure shock and amazement.
"How dare you dare to tread the corridors belonging to me without any permission whatsoever?" I spat out the words, my voice coming out as a low, threatening growl. I instinctively brought my hand to the hilt of my sword. With one smooth motion, the blade slid free of its sheath with an angry hiss.
Varric's eyes flicked to the weapon, and for a moment, fear crossed his features. "Your Majesty, please," he stammered, his voice shaking. "I meant no disrespect—
"Silence!" I hissed, clinching my command by pressing the pointed tip of the blade directly at his neck. "Do you think, perchance, your years afford you some type of protection from the wild vengeance of my anger?"
Before I could take even one more step forward, the door burst open once again with a loud bang. This time, it was none other than Halibart who had entered. The general's tall and imposing frame completely filled the doorway, making him appear even larger than life as his sharp green eyes focused intently on the scene unfolding before him. Without any hesitation whatsoever, he surged forward with great determination, tackling me with a force reminiscent of a charging bull, knocking the wind out of me.
"Snap out of it, Your Majesty!" he exclaimed, in sudden vehemence, as he threw me at full length on the cold ground beneath us.
For a moment, there swept through my whole body such a powerful tide of fury as I had never before felt. I struggled against him furiously, my fists pounding his chest in a wild endeavour to break his grasp; my teeth were clenched so tightly together that at each moment I felt like shattering into a hundred pieces. But as swiftly as it had risen up in me, the madness passed, like a bright fire quenched by an unexpected dousing of cold water.
I felt paralyzed, my breaths coming in ragged gasps that rang in the stillness of the moment. The sword slipped through my fingers and noisily dropped to the floor beside me as I looked up at Halibart, whose face was twisted into that awful mixture of concern and anger that typified the intensity of this moment.
"What… what have I done?" I whispered softly, my voice hardly rising above a faint murmur.
Halibart rolled off me, and I sat up, pushing him away with my hands. "Get off me," I told him, though I couldn't help but notice the venom and sharpness usually accompanying more heated moments were lacking. Getting to my feet with a bit of a struggle, I took a moment to brush the dust from my coat, making sure I was presentable before turning my attention down to Varric. The old man, amidst the chaos surrounding us, still clutched at his face tightly, and his sunken eyes were filled with an unsettling mixture of fear and confusion that seemed to mirror the turmoil within.
"My sincerest apologies," I said, the words feeling almost foreign and strange as they tumbled from my lips. "I… I wasn't really being myself."
Varric hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Of course, Your Majesty." But the way he avoided my gaze told me he was still shaken.
I turned to Halibart, who was standing with a near unnatural rigidity, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as if bracing himself for something. "Complete your mission," I commanded firmly, my voice once again taking on the usual authority that it often held. "I want you to evacuate the outer regions in their entirety without any hesitation or delays whatsoever.".
Halibart opened his mouth as if to protest, but something stopped him. His jaw tightened and he inclined his head curtly. "As you command, Your Majesty."
"Go," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.
Varric took a firm hold of Halibart's arm and tugged gently on it, pulling him toward the door. "Come on, General," he whispered low, so only Halibart would hear him.
I watched them go, the door closing behind them with a loud and ringing thud that sounded through the stillness. Left once more to my own company, I fell back into my chair, my head dropping forward into my hands in a flood of feeling.
"What in the world am I doing?" I muttered, despairing in my bewilderment. The image shot through my mind like lightning: Varric, my chancellor, his eyes wide with fear, and Halibart, my castellan; his expression one of undisguised shock and disbelieving horror. And I—I had unsheathed my sword—against my chancellor. My chancellor, whom I had trusted for a good long while, whose loyalty had never wavered through all the whims and madnesses of youth.
The pain that had once filled my skull had subsided to a great degree, but the memories of what I had done were still there, etched in my mind like a stubborn stain that would never wash out. I couldn't shake this feeling: something was terribly, drastically wrong—not just in my head, but in my very marrow.
I stood up straight, then started pacing back and forth across the room, hands clenching and opening by my sides in a rhythmic pattern. The marble floor under my feet felt colder than it normally does, the heavy silence of the room bearing down on me until it almost became suffocating in its intensity. I knew I needed a minute to clear my head, just to sort out a jumbled mess of feelings and thoughts.
As I stepped out into the long corridor, I discovered I was walking in a daze, with no particular place to go, until at last I realized that I had arrived at the opulent palace gardens. The atmosphere of this lovely oasis was far cooler than indoors, and the heady perfume of the blossoming flowers began to calm my nerves, soothing them with each inhalation. For a time, I simply closed my eyes and allowed the serenity surrounding me to envelop me like a soft wave.
Opening up, I saw her. When she opened her eyes, so did I.
Katerina.
She sat down on the edge of the fountain, her brilliant blue hair shining to great effect in the mellow kiss of the sunshine. In simple clothes, she had placed her hands lightly upon the rim of the fountain, while her gaze remained deep and intent upon the calm expanse of water at her feet.
I had acted instinctively and approached her, without pausing to give any thought as to what I was doing. Soft, noiseless steps carried me forward upon the green grass beneath my feet, so that she wouldn't know I was coming. She didn't see me until I stood just a few feet from her.
"Your Majesty," she said, turning at once to face me full. Her voice was as level and unshaken as a calm lake, but in her eyes, there was the flash of surprise that betrayed what she felt.
I didn't respond right away; I took a moment to gather my thoughts. Instead, I reached out gently toward her, letting my hand softly brush against her cheek. As I made contact, I felt that her skin was warm and incredibly soft beneath the light pressure of my fingertips. She was demonstrably tense at the beginning, her lips parting slightly as if she were going to utter a word of dissent or protest, but in spite of that initial reaction, she did not flinch. "Your hair," I whispered quietly, my voice barely audible and difficult to hear. "It's really lovely." "Your Majesty," she said once more, her voice this time firmer and more assertive. She took a step back, deliberately breaking the contact between them. "Is something wrong?" she inquired, expressing her concern. I blinked my eyes, feeling as though I was coming out of a deep and vivid dream. "No," I said, bringing my hand down quickly to indicate that everything was all right. "Nothing is wrong at all." She looked at me for a moment, searching my eyes. Then, without a word, she turned and walked away, her figure disappearing amongst the twisting paths of the garden. I stood there in that moment, my hand still tingling from the brief contact where it had touched her face just moments before. A part of me, a small voice within, yearned to call out to her, to somehow explain my actions and what I meant by that gesture, but I chose not to. Instead, I turned back toward the grand palace, my mind swirling like a tempest filled with confusion and an overwhelming sense of doubt. Something big was going on inside of me. And no matter what this phenomenon was, I had a deep-seated fear that it was only the beginning phase of something much bigger to follow.