Fun Facts:
The Memory of Fire
When you left, I pressed cheek and palm to cool plaster, my way lit by veilfire, searching for some secret trace of you. But your brushstrokes were invisible, as the paths your cinnabar-stained fingertips traced on my skin, turned gold by evening firelight.
Even yet your touch transforms me, changing the topography of my body in a thousand subtle ways, and though you never intended it, two hearts shall beat together once more.
-A yellowed note found in the cracked stonework of an unfinished Skyhold fresco
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