How a Video Game Saved My Life

I love the Dragon Age series, and Inquisition in particular is responsible for inspiring

my personal renaissance, without which I would not be here—in every sense of that

phrase you can imagine.

I was in a dark place twelve years ago, struggling in every sense of the word. I felt

listless, staring down the long tunnel of my life wondering “Is this all I have to look

forward to?”; “Is this all that I am?”; “Is there nothing more?” I had an unfulfilling job

that paid well but made me feel I was barely surviving, and an unfulfilling relationship

that emotionally paid about the same. I went to work and cried within myself while at my desk for eight hours, then came home and stared at my computer screen until it was time to

go to bed and start the whole thing all over again. Even video games no longer held

any significance to me; nothing could entice me to play, not even my old time

wasting standards like the Witcher, of which I will also eventually write.

Though I didn’t know it then, that was as close as I’ve been to hurting myself as any

other time when Churchill’s ‘Black Dog’ or Shakespeare’s “slough of despond”

overtook me. For a multitude of reasons, Asians don’t like to talk frankly about

mental illness or depression. We’re told to “just pray” or asked “what you got to be

depressed about?” And medication? “That’s for white people.” Or just “suck it up” like

some modern stoic samurai. I didn’t feel comfortable talking to my parents about it

because I knew those were the answers I’d get, and I didn’t feel comfortable talking

to others at the time because I thought they were responsible for a lot of my bad

feelings (though in reality, I was hiding from myself with no one else to blame). I’d

never had a therapist, didn’t know how to find one, and I didn’t know anybody I could

talk to to find one. I was completely lost and miserable and knew of no way to save

myself.

Then I saw on YouTube that a new Dragon Age game had come out. I remember

loving Dragon Age: Origins, and I’d had similar positive experiences with BioWare’s

other RPG series Mass Effect. I’d kind of enjoyed Dragon Age 2, despite its bad

reception from the community, claustrophobic setting and slight length (I’ve since

come around to the game) but I was willing to try DA:I if for nothing else than I

needed something to do before my mental state caused me to do something

irrevocably drastic.

To start, Inquisition still is a beautiful game (even by contemporary standards). The jump from DA2’s Lycium engine to DA:I’s Frostbite feels like an improvement in graphics quality by several orders of magnitude. I remember looking at the menu screen of characters walking through the snow towards what ended up being certain doom, thinking “Oh wow this is so pretty.” And their progress was marked by actual footprints! It was the first time in a long while that I could remember feeling anything that wasn’t numbing dread.

Dragon Age: Inquisition picks up four years after the events of Dragon Age 2. Mages

and Templars have been fighting all over Thedas (the continent in which these stories take place), bringing destruction and ruin to the land. To put an end to the fighting, a peace summit known as the Conclave is arranged between the two factions by the in-game lore equivalent of the Pope. Your character is at that meeting. Things go badly, the meeting place explodes, and in the explosion you’re given a mysterious power that allows you to seal destructive magical rifts that have suddenly appeared all over the world. Because of this power, you’re seen as the Herald of Dragon Age’s lady version of Jesus— Andraste—and

made the Inquisitor. You’re now the head of the newly formed Inquisition, responsible

for healing the rifts in the world and the rifts between the various warring factions of

Thedas (in case you're wondering it stands for The Dragon Age Story).

I loved how Inquisition’s story sucked me in immediately. Origins and DA2 take a

while to develop and present the stakes, but from the opening cutscene of

Inquisition, you know what it is you have to do. Your goal is clear and immediate. By

making me the Inquisitor tasked with saving the world, Inquisition gave me a purpose

when I personally had none. I felt significant at a time when the world ignored me.

Combat didn’t frustrate me the way Origins’ did. I know some fans didn’t like how

Inquisition did away with the Dungeons and Dragons-like combat of Origins and DA2

in favor of a more actiony playstyle, but I loved it. I played first as a rogue, firing arrows

while backflipping all over the battlefield, then as a Mage, shooting lightning streaks from my staff like a deranged Sith Lord. Didn’t make a damn bit of sense, but it was

cool as hell.

I invented a backstory for my character: a grizzled former general compelled by time,

tide and a disdain for politics, scheming and “the System” to eke out a living in the

boonies in a roughly-fashioned but cozy cabin by the shores of an obscure lake,

hunting by day and writing by candlelight stories no one would ever read, trying to

expunge a lifetime of guilt, service to those less deserving and trying to reconcile the

young idealistic man he once was with the embittered veteran he had become. Cincinnatus in RPG form.

Like many players, I too got lost in the expansive opening zone of the Hinterlands,

but rather than hate it, I appreciated the vast landscape filled with things to uncover. I

love everything about stars and celestial bodies, so I really enjoyed the Astrarium

puzzles that had you draw constellations by connecting its stars. (My life for a mobile

game of nothing but those puzzles!) It was like the game was made for me. I finally

had something to look forward to.

But more than combat or puzzles, the characters of Dragon Age: Inquisition were the

true appeal, the element of the game that literally saved my life. I cannot convey how

deeply I loved all of those characters (yes, even Solas -- you will have to play the game to find out why). They were all written so well, so full of life that they jumped from my Xbox 360’s hard drive and straight into my heart, where they will remain until my last day on this earthly plane. They made me laugh, they made me feel safe, they loved me for who I am. I know it sounds odd to ascribe those actions to people who do not exist, creations of coding and numbers. I vividly remember putting a picture of the Inquisition up in my cubicle that said “I get by with a little help from my friends.” It was a reminder for when things got so bad at work that I thought I’d walk out, make the 30 minute drive to Lake Ontario, and throw myself in.

The picture when it was in my cubicle. I still have it somewhere in one of my USB drives and I still use it as a reminder.

Dorian with his acerbic wit and well-manicured moustache, the Iron Bull with a heart

as big as his horns. Elegant, sassy Vivienne with the way she entered a room,

walking with the poise of Naomi Campbell and the self-assured power of a woman

who knows she could destroy you with an uttered word or a fire spell. Heroic, gruff,

yet secretly romantic Cassandra, sarcastic knave Varric, sloppy authority-hating

Sera, always looking to stick it to the Man, and hurt, scarred Cole whose reason for

existence was to help those in need. Those characters who, through millions of words of fanfiction I both read and wrote across multiple genres, taught me how I wanted to be loved and to love.

It was the fanfiction that led me to my other profession. Dragon Age: Inquisition

inspired me to get writing again, helping me rediscover how much I loved it. I

remember once spending an entire eight-hour day at work (sorry, not sorry, former

boss) writing one story start to finish. It’s still one of my best, and it made me think:

“This is the one thing I’m good at that makes me happy. Why am I wasting my time

here, when I could be doing this for real and getting paid?”

One thing I was never able to do though, was to write fantasy, much less DA

fanfiction. That seemed a bit too hard, and I didn’t feel I was emotionally or creatively

equipped enough to undertake such a journey. It was just good enough to write anything and to find a creative outlet for my frustrations.

So I did. I got my first paid book published And another. And another. And after many

years of setbacks, happy accidents, personal improvements, and being at

the right place at the right time, I landed where I am today. And with a little help from

my ‘Dragon Age’ friends, I have completed my first true “Dark fantasy” book draft, over

eleven hundred pages in all, kicking off a hoped-for trilogy of books.

There are still things that still gnaw at me: parts of me I don’t like, emotions too raw

to drag out and expose to the sunlight. The wages of years have taken their measure

and there are medical conditions that gnaw at me every minute of every day. Those

who read this blog know that three years ago I almost crossed that thin line between this

world and the next (inadvertently, despite the angst of my younger years). I really

don’t know how much time I have left: then again, who does?

But all of that doesn’t really matter. Like the characters of my books, to whom I

occasionally return, the characters of Dragon Age: Inquisition are like friends who

never left my hometown while I did. They are still there, ageless, exactly as I

remembered them and will always be willing to welcome me back.

And that is why, all through the years, I keep replaying the game.