Cullen flinched when he felt the hands on his shoulders. "Please... please, no. Not that." He didn't try to move away from the hands. That was bad. Bad things happened when he tried to pull away. The glow filled his vision. The cage keeping him from escaping, keeping him from getting away from the demons and from Uldred and his mages.
Then the words began to penetrate his panic and the overwhelming memories and he knew that voice. He knew it, he trusted it. He drew in a deep, harsh breath and tried to grab hold of the panic and listen to the voice and slowly, slowly he began to succeed.
"Ellana," he gasped and as if that word broke a spell, he was able to rein in the panic and shove it down along with the memories. He hesitated for a moment then pulled her close. He could see that he was still glowing and he closed his eyes against it.
"Maker! It's not magic." He said that more to himself than to Ellana. A reassurance that what he was seeing wasn't his past coming back to haunt him. "It's not magic. It doesn't feel like magic. I'd know. I'd know."