After saving an illegally enslaved apostate mage from an Orlesian noble, The Iron Bull finds himself with a new member of the Chargers. Dorian, his magic and his voice bound, is a beautiful and enigmatic addition to his team, and soon finds himself close to his new family. Swept up in the Inquisition after a plea from a friend, The Iron Bull and Dorian find themselves carefully dancing around the ideas of home, family, love, and what it means to truly be free. As The Iron Bull wrestles with the Qun and what it will cost him, Dorian comes to grips with his past as both Altus and slave, and together they begin paving the way for a future neither expected.

“No one told me what prayers to recite,” Johnny forces out, trying to summon the well of anger that usually burns within him when he enters the church. “‘Spose they’re not used to trussin’ up somethin’ that can talk back.” Father Simon says nothing, his footsteps echoing out on the stone; growing louder as he approaches. “I can baa for ya if that’d make it more familiar,” he spits, some remnant of himself flaring and he strains his arms, struggling in vain against the ropes binding his wrists. He follows the hem of his robe as he circles him; his keen eyes heavy as they study the sigils on his skin until he finally comes to a stop behind him. He’s not even to see his death. Johnny curses himself as only now does grief come at being denied a final look into his eyes. Even now, you can’t help but chase sin.