Morning Star, 3E411 - This Blight is different

"This Blight is different," Antoine was showing Anders his findings. "These tissue samples refuse to die. You can see them pulse - the Blight has life in it."

"It's like the Blight is the source of life," Anders shook his head. "This is nothing like what I've seen so far. Normally the Blight is dead... except..." He paused, thinking back on the new Blight that he and Wolf encountered soon after the end of the previous one. Thinking, conscious darkspawn. Darkspawn prison. Darkspawn keeping Grey Wardens alive for their blood. Red lyrium being grown in people's bodies. He shuddered involuntarily. "Any sign of red lyrium in it?" He asked looking closely at the samples.

"None that I could see..." Antoine gave him a long look. "What are you thinking?"

"I wonder why the Blight wants us," he looked up. "Grey Wardens, I mean. Archdemons never wanted anything to do with Grey Wardens other than kill us, but this Blight... have you heard of Grey Wardens being captured?"

"I've heard... but I didn't believe it," Antoine sat down.

"Well, believe it - I was in one of those prisons myself... as a prisoner," Anders rubbed his forehead. "We need to find out whether the Blight here has the same intent. We need to find who leads it. The dreams aren't clear, not mine anyway. How about you?"

"Confusing," Antoine agreed. "I hear the song, the same as everyone, but there is no dragon... I am unsure who leads it."

"But it's here somewhere, in the Anderfels," Anders looked around as if trying to see the leader of the Blight. "I can feel it. It's strongest here." He paced the room, then returned. "Tomorrow we mount a scouting mission to the old Grey Warden Vaults. Look at this map," he laid Roderik's map on the table. "There are several Deep Roads entrances near the Vaults, and Roderik thought there may well be some inside. We should see what's going on there, whether that's where darkspawn is coming from. And if so, we go in and find the broodmother or whoever else is in charge."

"If anyone is in charge," Antoine nodded. "But I agree - we need to investigate. Tomorrow. But now it's late, we should go to bed."

The old Keep still had some sleeping quarters, although it was cold and there were not nearly enough beds for everyone. They laid out bedrolls and huddled together for warmth, eventually falling asleep out of exhaustion. No one expected it to be a luxury holiday, and no one complained.

...

Anders was thrashing in his sleep.

"Warden Anders! You are a disgrace to the Order!" The voice of the First Warden was deafening in his ears, the space around him was dark and cold, frozen fog hung in the air.

"Frozen by magic," Anders reflected, noticing tell-tale traces of magical energy. "Where am I?"

"You will come here and present yourself, Warden!" The voice was calling from further ahead, but Anders could see nothing in the dark. The footing seemed solid if slippery, and he started walking towards the voice.

"Your place is here! You must repay the damage you've done to the Order of the Grey!" The First Warden's voice was commanding, yet Anders could not see where or what "here" was. What damage was the First Warden talking about? Surely, not thrashing his favourite bar... "Your blood will strengthen us!"

Anders stopped dead. His blood... a Grey Warden's blood... That wasn't the First Warden speaking, that was the Blight!

Carefully he continued walking towards the voice, now hearing other noises coming from the same direction. There also seemed to be light in the distance.

"You must join us and help us rebuild the Order!" The voice kept commanding him. "We require every Grey Warden with us, even one like you!"

"Stop," suddenly Solas stood before him, blocking the way. "You must not proceed."

"Solas," Anders sighed but stopped. "Is this your trick? Your illusion?"

"Alas, this is no illusion," Solas sighed too. "I am an illusion, however. I am still in that prison in the Fade where you got me locked up... What you see is a projection." He smiled when Anders put his fist through him. "I am not actually here, not in the flesh. But hear me out, nonetheless. You are close. Close to the source of the Blight, close to the gods that escaped... In particular the one that invented the Blight in the first place. She has been 'improving' it. She made it into a source of life. Blighted, of course, but alive. I believe your friend Antoine came to the same conclusion."

"He has," Anders nodded, trying to control his anger. "So what's your point?"

"Still abrupt as always, I see," Solas shook his head. "Your time with Justice didn't make you a better man, Anders, it made you worse. But no matter. You killed her Archdemon, she is now mortal. It doesn't mean she will be easy to kill. She now has the Blight itself protecting her. However, she isn't done perfecting it yet, and therein lies your chance. The Blight depends on demonic growth for its renewal - those boils you've seen before. Focus on them. You will find a broodmother too, and it's another boil. Destroy it all. This will buy you time to go into the Vaults and find out what is really going on. There, don't say I didn't help you."

Solas vanished.

"Warden Anders!" The First Warden kept calling to him. "Present yourself!"

Anders peered in the direction where the voice and the noises were coming from. He thought he saw movement too. Something was going on there... was this the Fade? Surely, he was asleep, he was dreaming, so this must be the Fade... in which case he shouldn't believe anything he'd see or hear. He should leave. He should wake up.

That was easier said than done, however. He felt something bind him to the space around him, like a spider web... He felt his movements slowing, it was becoming difficult to breathe too. Blood droplets started appearing on the surface of his skin, he saw it on his hands, he felt his blood boil in his veins and rise to the surface, then seep out through the pores. "Blood magic," he thought. "But where is the mage?" A moment later he could no longer move. "That's it..." he thought. "I don't believe I was the right man for the job..."

The last thing he saw was a shadow of a large bird diving in the direction of the voices and the light.

...

Lucanis sat up with a jolt. Most people were still asleep, but several Grey Wardens also woke up, nodding to each other and getting up. Anders lay next to him motionless, he was thrashing no more. Blood was seeping out of his pores, tiny droplets covering his face, his hands and undoubtedly the rest of his body. It would not take long for the stains to appear on his robes.

"Dead?" Lucanis searched for his pulse. "Not dead, but nearly so," he shook his head. "How do we stop this?" He looked around. "Dorian!" He tried to wake up Dorian, but Dorian was similarly unresponsive, although no blood droplets were visible on his skin. "Emmrich! Bellara!" The mages were all unresponsive. Everyone else was already awake by then.

"It's blood magic," Davrin shook his head. "It's the Blight! It spoke to us all, but it got the mages somehow... even the ones who aren't Grey Wardens!"

"They are trapped in the Fade," Lucanis said firmly. He wasn't sure how he knew that. "I am going after them."

"What? How?" Davrin turned around, astonished. "Only a mage can go into the Fade, and it takes lots of lyrium and other mages to open the portal, and..."

"I don't need a mage to send me into the Fade," Lucanis got up to this feet, looking grim. "I have Spite. I am an abomination."

He clapped his hands and tensed. Spirit wings appeared at his back, he opened them, but instead of lifting him in flight, the wings span a portal and he stepped through it, with the portal closing behind him.

"Well, I never..." Davrin shook his head, looking at all the mages in the room, motionless on their beds and bedrolls. "Good luck, Lucanis. I sure hope you know what to do..."

...

"This way to the target!" Lucanis heard Spite's hissing voice somewhere ahead, there were noises and light there, and movement. He looked around but couldn't see much of anything else, the place was dark and damp, frozen fog hung in the air... Not seeing any better options, he followed Spite.

The light ahead was very dim, yet it stood out in near complete darkness that was everywhere else. A huge pulsating boil of demonic growth was in the middle of the cavern, if it was a cavern... Lucanis could not see a ceiling. Spite in his crow form was circling the boil, carefully avoiding its moving tentacles. Spite was larger than a crow... much larger. Lucanis smirked, thinking that in the Fade nothing was as it seemed. He drew his sword and dagger. How does one kill a boil?

"Beware of the tentacles!" Spite hissed, narrowly missing one himself. "They will kill you."

"Right." Lucanis opened his wings again - he still had them, even with Spite out of his body. "Must be the Fade," he reflected. "Let's go, Spite!" He soared above the boil, looking for weakness. There didn't seem to be any, the skin of this demonic growth seemed exceptionally tough and it was flailing its tentacles wildly. "There - pick any spot..." Lucanis decided. "Any spot between the tentacles... dive and stab... then soar again." He spelled it out hoping that Spite would understand - he was asking for help.

"Now!" Spite hissed, flying fast just over the boil, circling it and somehow pushing the tentacles out of the way for a moment...

Lucanis dived, landing on the skin of the boil, then thrust his sword into it, making a cut. Repulsive slimy puss shot out of it, ear-splitting whistling hiss nearly knocking him out. His wings lifted him up and he soared above the boil.

"Again!" Spite circled him in the air. "Now! Don't let it recover!"

Now that Lucanis knew what to expect, he became faster and more effective. He was no longer knocked back by the hiss, he avoided getting covered in puss. After so many cuts, the boil could no longer flail its tentacles about, they were now hanging limp, only moving along the ground. And yet the growth was refusing to die.

"We need a mage..." Spite was circling the growth. "Keep it busy! I'll be back..."

"What..?" Lucanis shot him a glance, but the crow was already disappearing in the darkness. "Well... Hmm... Alright! Dive!"

...

Anders opened his eyes and realised that he wasn't dead. The space around him was dark and damp, just like before, and breathing was difficult, but blood was no longer boiling in his veins. He scrambled to his feet and looked for that source of light he'd seen earlier. Oh yes, it was still there. "Solas warned me not to proceed," Anders recalled. "But what else am I to do? Forget Solas..." He moved towards the light.

"You must be very careful there," a bird appeared out of nowhere and landed on the ground, turning into a spectral form of Lucanis. "Demonic growth is the mage that is controlling your blood," he said. "Use lightning - cut your wrists, you need it all... Hold nothing back!" He ran towards the light and Anders saw a huge shape of a boil against the shadows. A bird was circling it, diving into it, then soaring again...

"Lucanis?" He thought in disbelief. "Here, in the Fade..?" But Lucanis must have been getting tired, and one of the tentacles started flailing again, hitting him square on the chest and propelling him through the air into the darkness. "Blood... storm... now!" Anders didn't waste any time on thinking. He cut both his wrists, summoning a massive storm cloud right over the boil, then sending additional bolts after it, again and again. He kept hitting the boil until no more tentacles were flailing and the pulse finally stopped. The boil shriveled slightly and turned into a mass of blighted flesh, blackened and dead. Anders staggered, holding on to it. He seemed to have made it. But what about Lucanis?

A faint purple glow was visible somewhere in the darkness, and Anders started walking towards it, hoping that the surface was still solid in that direction. The glow grew slightly brighter, then took shape of a man lying on the ground. Lucanis and Spite, almost merged, and both nearly dead.

"Luca... it's over," he knelt over him. "Come on, wake up. We should be leaving now."

"Hmm..?" Lucanis sat up, Spite merging into him. "Anders... Linus," he smiled. "You are awake. But what about the others?"

"What others?"

"The other mages... All trapped in the Fade."

"I haven't seen anyone else," Anders shook his head. "They must be trapped each in their own bubble. We cannot reach them from here. Let's go. You killed the blighted boil."

"No, you killed the blighted boil," Lucanis smiled. "Take my hand. We are leaving."


Anders was going to object that in order to leave the Fade all you had to do was will it, but Lucanis shook his head, Spite opened a portal and they stepped through it.

...

"What did you do?" Dorian sat up and looked around, noticing other mages also sitting up, dazed and confused. "What just happened?"

"You all got trapped in the Fade," Lucanis told them, kneeling over Anders. "Your bodies were here but your spirits were stuck in the Fade. Mages... You're nothing but trouble." He smirked, turning to Anders who was also sitting up. "You got all bloody, Linus, look at yourself," he shook his head. "That wasn't just in the Fade. But you got that boil."

"I had help..." Anders smiled.

"You did the right thing to accept it," Lucanis nodded. "I told you - you are the right man for the job."

Morning Star, 3E411 - Dreadwolf

"You had us worried, Blondie," Varric walked up to Anders, slinging his crossbow across the shoulder. "Lying there half dead, bleeding through your skin... other mages all out cold... What did you do? Blood magic never pays, I always say, and red lyrium even less so."

Anders looked up. He was still sitting on his bedroll, covered in a thin layer of blood where it seeped through the pores in his skin. His hands and face were red with it, his body undoubtedly too, but the stains were yet to appear on his robes. This was the result of a blood magic spell cast by a blighted boil, not even a creature as such... He killed it, having used a lot of his own blood to cast a storm strong enough to overpower it. It was blood magic too. Blood was everywhere, and he was a blood mage. He looked at Varric standing there grinning smugly, and anger started rising in him. Wolf always treated Varric with kid gloves, but why, actually? Was Varric really so sweet that everyone adored him? Were the nicknames that he kept giving everyone, really so nice? Who did he think he was?

Anders got to his feet, white as a sheet under the layer of blood on his skin that looked like red mist.

"Never again call me Blondie," he said in a hissing voice. "Scheisszwerg."

"What..?" Varric paled and swallowed. "What did you call me?"

"A nickname," Anders flared his nostrils, trying to keep rage out of his voice. "Remember who you are dealing with."

They stood there, facing each other, their eyes locked. Anders was tall, and Varric barely came to his chest, being a dwarf, but both possessed the strength of character that made the difference in height irrelevant. Varric was older and behaved as if he owned the place; Anders was younger but not of the first youth either, and his life experiences were far more extreme and varied. Flashbacks of Justice kept haunting him, making him edgy in any confrontation. He suddenly felt he deserved some respect, and Varric wasn't giving him any. Perhaps it was time things changed.

"We make a deal," Varric said slowly. "No nicknames, Anders. I back down, this isn't worth it. We have a Blight to defeat."

"Agreed," Anders nodded. "I am not Wolf. Never taunt a mage."

They both lowered their gazes and walked away, but everyone who witnessed the scene, was still frozen in shock. Anders just put Varric in his place. No one had ever done that.

...

"The Blight operates both in the Fade and in Mundus," Anders was presiding over a council over what to do next. "The boil that we killed in the Fade, wasn't even a creature, and yet it controlled all mages through blood magic. It controlled mages' spirits, to be precise - captured during sleep. It may well be able to control non-mages as well, we all go to the Fade when we dream." He looked around the table and everyone had a worried expression.

"But you killed it," Antoine pointed out. "We, Grey Wardens, all felt it. The song lightened up."

"As Solas said, this buys is time," Anders nodded, not happy to mention Solas, but fairness required he gave him his due. "Solas sounded like those boils are simultaneously in the Fade and in Mundus, demonic growth can do that. He said it bought us time to go to the Vaults. If so, we can hope to find more boils there and kill them with conventional means."

"You mean swords," Davrin nodded approvingly.

"It isn't as easy as that..." Anders started, but then changed his mind. "Yes, swords. And magic. It seems you need both." He paused, then added for the mages: "The boils are sensitive to electricity, so use storm spells. They may be sensitive to something else, but I don't know what."

Everyone nodded.

"What are your orders, Commander?" One of the Grey Wardens asked from the back of the room.

"Commander?" Anders looked up. "Well..."

"You are in charge," Antoine touched his hand. "That's what he meant. Commander."

"Alright!" Anders cleared his throat, earlier confrontation with Varric suddenly rising in his mind. He was in charge, indeed. "We should maintain posts along the perimeter, I do expect further attacks and we need an early warning." Several Wardens nodded. "Keep the fortress secure to rest and treat our wounded. And as our first mission, I'll take a forward group to the Vaults, with backup following some distance behind us - remember, we do not know what's inside or how powerful it is. Our primary objective is reconnaissance. Find out as much as we can, draw a map of the place, locate Deep Roads entrances, that sort of thing. Reconvene here and decide what to do next."

Everyone nodded.

As people started rising from their seats, Anders signaled Antoine and Davrin to stay behind.

"Antoine, please stay here," Anders looked apologetic. "You've taken too much fighting lately, yes, I can see your wounds even with your clothes on. Are there any healers here besides me? Yes? So, what are you waiting for?" Antoine smirked and shook his head but didn't object. "Davrin, I'd like to ask you to stay behind as well," Anders turned to Davrin who raised an eyebrow. "Not to rest - to oversee the defense. We don't actually have enough Wardens to man all posts... so be creative. We do need to keep the Blight out of the Keep."

"Now, that is a real task," Davrin looked pleased. "As you say, Commander." Antoine smirked again but kept his remarks to himself. Everyone felt it was the endgame.

...

"Let me show you endless wonders of the Fade," a soft, distant voice was calling Neve to follow. "Dreams of spirits long gone, events preserved in memories, history itself, alive in our thoughts. Follow my voice - that is all I ask."

Neve was dreaming. Like every person's, her spirit traveled into the Fade, and like every mage, Neve was conscious in the Fade, even though she could not very well control her actions. It was like watching yourself from the sidelines. What harm could there be in following the voice? It was just a dream, anyway.

Neve walked through a mountain valley with Elven and Tevinter ruins visible here and there. "The Arlathan Forest," she thought, a part of Tevinter that was previously populated by elves, and now only housed small tribes of Dalish elves who avoided all contact with anyone else. When humans appeared in Thedas, they fought the elves in Arlathan Forest, defeated them and took over the land, forming Tevinter. There was a lot of death in Arlathan Forest... a lot of memories of death. Humans were said to have brought blood magic to Thedas, and it was that which allowed them to defeat the elves, and so blood magic formed the foundations of Tevinter. Of course, in modern days blood magic was outlawed, but mages like Neve knew their roots. She wasn't a blood mage, oh no, not in the vile sense that was attributed to it in modern times... but she was a Tevinter woman of noble descent, her family had magic running through them from times immemorial, she probably had ancestors among those first humans who came to Thedas and fought the elves... Tevinter used to be the largest and grandest Empire of Thedas - Tevinter was Thedas. And look at it now - reduced to being one of many, overshadowed by the Empire of Orlais, pushed aside by upstart states like Antiva, Rivain or Ferelden... Tevinter had to return to its former glory. Not by waging war on its neighbours but by restoring its majesty in magic, and clearing its name regarding some events from before the First Blight, events only preserved in the memories of the Fade. That was what the Venatori were all about, and that was why Neve had joined them and never left.

"Let me show you the truth about the elves," the voice was saying. It wasn't getting closer, it was just speaking from a distance as Neve walked through the valley of memories. "The elves used to be immortal," the voice continued. "Their immortality came from the Fade - the elves used to draw magic directly from the Fade. There was no Veil separating the Fade from Mundus, and the Arlathan Forest was both in the Fade and in Mundus at once."

"That makes sense, you know," Neve nodded. "Elven blood is much richer in magic than human. That is why we always prefer to bleed elves for blood magic rituals... Hmm... sorry... perhaps I should not have said that. Are you an elf?"

"I am an elf, yes," the voice answered with sadness. "You said it because it is true. Elven blood is richer in magic than human, and modern elves have lost themselves and turned into slaves... but do not blame Tevinter for that. Elves destroyed themselves already before humans arrived, and hence could be defeated."

"Destroyed themselves?" Neve stopped in surprise. "I've never heard about that!"

"No, the elves no longer remember... You may know that their collective memories are lost."

"I've heard them say that often enough," Neve agreed. "Who are you?"

"I am an elf who still remembers," the voice answered evasively. "We are immortal, like I said. Well, we used to be immortal. I remained in the Fade, and thus I still live. The others remained in Mundus, and when the Veil separating them from the Fade was put in place, they got cut off from the Fade and could only enter it in dreams... It wasn't enough... a miscalculation. That made them mortal and made them forget much of who they were."

"We have no records of there not being a Veil separating the Fade from Mundus, and I should think we would have known if it was ever missing," Neve mused. "Which would mean that the humans arrived after the Veil was put in place, and after the elves suffered that blow to their collective mind. Hmm... It does add up. But I am not sure I should believe you."

"What's the alternative?" The voice asked. "The other theory, that told by the Southern Chantry, is much worse."

"That Tevinter magisters single-handedly invented the Blight?" Neve smirked. "Oh yes, that's bad. And false, too."

"But how to prove it?"

"Yes, that is a problem," Neve had to admit, looking around. "Do you have any memories that could help? Any memories that could lead me to something tangible in our present time? I need tangible proof."

"Always an investigator," the voice said with a short laugh. "Oh yes, I can show you something... I can tell you even more... and I can guide you where you want to go. Follow me."

"What do you want in return?" Neve was still suspicious.

"Nothing," the voice replied. "Your actions will be my reward. Shall we get acquainted?" A figure of an elf materialised in front of her. "I am Solas, and this is my projection. I cannot appear in the flesh just now, but I promise you, it will be worth the wait."



~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Jan 21 2025, 12:36 AM

Morning Star, 3E411 - The truth about Tevinter

"This way, Neve," Solas was marching along a valley in Arlathan Forest dotted with ancient Elven and Tevinter ruins. It wasn't actually Solas in the flesh, it was only his projection, but Neve followed him nonetheless. She was in the Fade, she was dreaming. She had nothing to fear from a dream.

"Where are we going?" She asked with interest.

"There is a ruin just up ahead that I want to show you," Solas pointed out some turrets visible behind the trees. "There are living memories within, and you, as a mage, can experience them first hand. It isn't tangible proof yet, but it's a start."

"Alright, I am interested," Neve nodded. "We've got to start somewhere."

The ruin looked to be of a castle or possibly a temple, it was impossible to say but the architecture was rather grand, even in its badly destroyed state. Solas led Neve to the central chamber, now overgrown with vegetation. A faint mist was hanging in the air and Neve felt magic permeating every inch of the structure.

"Here," Solas stopped in the middle by what looked like old stone benches. "Come, let's sit down. Just relax and allow the memory unfold itself to you."

Neve did as he asked. She closed her eyes and immediately visions arose before her. She saw elves wearing robes of an ancient style; they were arguing. Neve couldn't quite catch what they were disagreeing about, but one of the elves looked familiar... Was that Solas? But yes, it was Solas! Only much, much younger. A thousand years younger or more.

"We must stand up to the oppressors," he was saying to the others. "Elves must not be slaves."

"That's a noble notion," one of the other elves was saying, "but we've been fighting the Evanuris for three centuries already, and look where it got us. We live among ruins. Our followers are wounded or dead. We ourselves will not last much longer. They will simply kill us all and that will be that, Solas! Elves will not be slaves, elves simply will no longer exist."

"Nonsense, we won't all be killed," Solas dismissed his argument, passion burning in his eyes. "We have strength and resilience - we have been fighting them for three hundred years! Another push is what we need!"

"We don't have people for another push," another elf shook his head. "We're done, Solas. Beaten."

The memory dissolved itself and Neve looked at Solas' projection next to her. He did not look particularly old, he looked ageless. If he was that ancient, it would fit.

"Yes, it was I in that memory," Solas smirked. "So many years ago... well before humans ever appeared in Thedas. Do you know who are the Evanuris?"

"Ancient elven gods," Neve gave him a long look. "Seven of them, I believe. We do have books about them."

"I am glad at least some knowledge got preserved," Solas smiled. "Yes, modern elves call them gods, and by modern standards they could be seen as gods, I suppose. But in those days... they were not gods, Neve, they were mages, not unlike the Upper Chamber of Tevinter Magisterium. They were particularly powerful mages who ruled over the people. They got greedy, started using the people to make themselves more powerful... Tevinter Magisters did not invent blood magic, Neve."

"I didn't think they did," Neve nodded. "Blood magic just exists. No one invented it, I recon. And more than one person discovered it, too."

"Quite," Solas nodded. "It is true however that those first humans used a lot of blood magic against the elves. But it is also true that the elves already had blood magic of their own... It isn't just a human sin."

"That's the kind of proof that I need!" Neve's eyes lit up. "But I need more than a memory..."

"I know," Solas smiled. "But memories are a start. The Arlathan Forest still exists in Mundus, you can find this very ruin there. There is no point in that however - it is empty. But there's proof elsewhere." He paused, looking at Neve with a withdrawn yet charming expression. "Come back tomorrow, Neve. Just go to sleep and I shall find you. There is a lot more that you need to understand in order to get that proof."

...

Neve could not wait for the next day to end so that she could go to sleep and meet Solas in the Fade again. They walked through the same valley in the Arlathan Forest, and Solas showed her more memories of the past. It was well over a thousand years ago, not long before humans arrived in Thedas. Solas was leading a rebellion against the Evanuris, against enslaving the elven people for the benefit of a few powerful mages. The markings that the elves wore on their faces and bodies, the same markings that modern Dalish elves wore with such reverence, were according to Solas the markings of slavery, and he wore no such tattoos. He showed Neve murals in the ruins depicting the elves removing such markings and becoming free...

"We had a symbol of our movement - the wolf," Solas explained the presence of wolf figurines and drawings around them. "We marked our locations with such carvings."

"This is the Dreadwolf," Neve gave him a long look. "Or at least, this is what modern elves make of it. These are statues of the Dreadwolf - Fen'Harel, the Trickster, the Elven God of Lies."

"It is so sad, but yes, this is how the Dalish remember us," Solas sighed. "Perhaps they see me as the Dreadwolf... But I am no god, I assure you. I am simply an elf who remembers the past, an elf who never left the Fade..." He paused, looking into the distance. "Of course, we were losing the war. There were too few of us with too many dead and wounded. My comrades were right, you know... but I was young and didn't see it. A God of Lies... They weren't lies, but things didn't work out as we were hoping." He sighed and paused again. "And then of course the humans arrived. They landed on our shores in their great ships. They had warriors and mages, and they had blood magic. They were powerful, no doubt. They wanted our lands. We resisted - we all resisted, with the Evanuris leading the push against the humans. But they had enslaved most elves by then, thus weakening them, add to that the elven civil war that had lasted for over three hundred years... As a nation, the elves were in no shape to resist an invasion. The humans won, although it was a hard and bloody victory. The elves were enslaved by the humans. The rest you know - everything except the invention of the Blight is more or less true."

"So, even weakened by the civil war and enslavement, the elves still put up a formidable defense," Neve nodded.

"Yes, that they did. Only it wasn't good enough."

"But the Veil?" Neve suddenly remembered that detail. "You said there was a time when there was no Veil separating the Fade from Mundus. But we have no records of that, so it was before humans arrived here. When was the Veil put up and why?"

"It was not long before humans arrived, indeed," Solas nodded. "I created it," he sighed and looked down. "It was a mistake. I aimed to lock away the Evanuris in the Fade and to leave the people in Mundus, thus protecting them from the Evanuris. My error was that I failed to realise that the Veil would destroy the elves themselves... Cutting them off from the Fade was what destroyed their memories, their immortality and their very nature."

Neve was shocked. This mage that sat next to her, had created the Veil all on his own? The Veil, which required immense power to pierce? She had difficulty believing that one mage, no matter how powerful, could create something as big and as strong, something that had been in place for over a thousand years at least, if Solas was to be believed. And another point... something didn't add up.

"That is impressive," Neve said carefully. "But explain this to me, Solas: how did the Evanuris direct the fight against humans if they were already locked away in the Fade? If the purpose was to separate them from the people, how could they still command them?"

"There were other powerful mages among the elves," Solas smiled. "I should have explained it better. The Evanuris had seven mages, and they were thoroughly evil. But we had another faction in the governing body, there were five of us at first, then fewer, but we were opposing the Evanuris. When I set up the Veil and locked away the actual Evanuris, we thought our troubles were over. Then the elven people started losing their memories and suffocating without the Fade, and I realised my miscalculation. Entering the Fade during sleep wasn't enough. But I didn't have the time to find a solution because soon after that the humans arrived. Then those of us who remained in Mundus, formed a new Evanuris to lead the war. And we failed again."

"I see," Neve said with regret. "This is a very sad story, I am so sorry for the elves," she sighed. "I can see now how it is that they found themselves so weakened."

She wanted to ask more questions but Solas got up, looking quite perturbed.

"Shall we continue this tomorrow?" He asked with a shy smile. "I am rather lost in those memories. Tomorrow we can talk about who invented the Blight."

Neve felt sorry for Solas and she agreed, also sensing that the topic of the Blight would be of the most benefit to her.

...

"Solas isn't telling the whole truth," Neve was going through her notes the following day - notes that she carefully recorded after waking up. "Several things don't add up. The story of the Veil is the most unbelievable of all," she decided. "But on the other hand, if he helps me find proof that Tevinter did not invent the Blight... that's worth a lot of woolly stories."

And so once again she waited for the evening with anticipation, and went to sleep hoping to meet Solas in the Fade.

"Hello, Neve," Solas greeted her in the valley. "Ready for more?" She nodded and he smiled. "Now we get to the bloody part: who invented the Blight? Was it invented? Did it always exist? When did the Golden City turn black?"

"The Southern Chantry preaches that it were Tevinter Magisters who entered the Fade, reached the Golden City and turned it black, thus inventing the Blight. It was their sinful strive for knowledge that did it. And I just think it's a load of lies," she said firmly. "But it does beg the question: when and why did The Maker abandon his seat at the Golden City? And did Tevinter Magisters ever venture there at all?"

"Indeed, very perceptive," Solas smiled. "The story is not entirely false. That is to say, it happened almost like that, except it were not Tevinter Magisters who entered the Golden City but the elves of the Evanuris. Thus it was they who started the Blight."

"What?!" Neve spun around. "But that changes everything! Do you have any proof?"

"Well, actually, Neve..." Solas gave her a long look. "Yes, I do."

The trap snapped shut and Neve was now hanging on Solas' every word. This was the proof she could not even hope to obtain! Ancient elven mages turning into Archdemons to lead the Blight! Ancient elven mages enslaving Tevinter Magisters through blood magic! Ancient elven mages were the root of all evil, and Tevinter was trying to resist! And, well, yes, they did enslave the elven people in the process, but bad things happen in war. The main thing was that Tevinter was not to be blamed for the Blight!!!

Neve wanted to know every detail, taking all Solas' words to be true. It was too tempting to do so - they told her exactly what she wanted to hear. And if there was proof of that too... then why question it? But Solas was in no rush to present her with such proof. Instead, he told her numerous stories from those times, and how much truth they held was of no importance because they were just anecdotes of times long past. For Neve however they formed the fabric of her new theory, and she picked them up eagerly and with pleasure. After several nights of stories Solas decided it was time to turn to action.

"I suppose you know that we are now living through another Blight," he said in a grave tone. "The worst one of them all."

"Yes, it is hard to miss," Neve nodded, also looking grim. "The Grey Wardens Head Quarters falling. The Wardens looking worried, and not because of that - they know how bad this Blight is, they can sense it. And there aren't that many of them left to fight it. This is bad."

"You know who leads them, yes?" Solas gave her a sideways look.

"Anders," Neve nodded. "A blood mage from Ferelden. I hear he punched the First Warden..." she grinned. "He's edgy and green somehow..."

"Anders is a problem," Solas nodded. "Not so much because of what he is but because there's no one better to lead the Wardens. The First Warden deserved to be punched, I have no doubt. The Wardens have gone soft, except in Ferelden where they just had the Fifth Blight only ten years ago. So Anders leading them now is not a surprise, but only a disappointment."

"I wanted to help him," Neve said. "It's like you say - regardless of whether I like Anders or not, the Blight is too grave a matter to ignore. But they kicked me out! So it's their loss."

"This Blight is led by two of the Evanuris," Solas said with emphasis. "Not just one - two! The last two. One of them actually invented the original Blight."

"What?!" Neve spun around. "So Blight was invented? Created? Engineered????"

"Exactly," Solas nodded. "I am not entirely certain what she had planned for it, or whether she planned anything in particular or was just playing, so to speak... but she created it and released it into Mundus."

"How?"

"That's where manipulating Tevinter Magisters through blood magic comes in," Solas smiled. "They entered the Fade, thus opening a portal in the Veil and allowing the Blight to escape."

"Ah-ha!!!"

"Indeed," Solas watched Neve almost glow with pride and pleasure of such a discovery. "And the proof of all of this coincides with defeating this Blight: when the two remaining Evanuris lie dead, everything will become clear to all."

"Yes!!!" Neve was jubilant. This was far better than she could ever hope for. And it coincided with the most noble deed of them all - defeating the Blight. "So what do I do?"

If Solas was jubilant hearing her say that, he didn't show it. Instead, he smiled a most charming smile and snapped his fingers, teleporting them to another part of the Fade. It was empty and barren, but it was no longer a projection of Solas that stood before Neve. Now it was the actual Solas. An invisible wall separated him from her, but they were close and she could sense that he was real.

"This is where Anders and his stupidity got me to," he said with derision. "This is a prison I built for the remaining Evanuris but Anders interfered with my ritual that would have seen them locked away here for good. This prison is secure - I did not miscalculate it this time! Which means I cannot get out!" He looked angry and annoyed. "Not yet, anyway. The prison will be dissolved when they are dead."

"But we still need Grey Wardens to fight darkspawn," Neve said with doubt. "I don't like Anders either, but what can we do?"

"We need Grey Wardens, agreed," Solas smiled. "And I have been trying to help him! Even despite everything! Defeating the Blight is more important, like you say. They managed to kill the Archdemon that maintained immortality of one of the two Evanuris. Killing the mage herself won't be easy, but at least it is now possible. They know they have to kill the other Archdemon before they can get to the other mage. I trust they can do that. It is the actual killing of the mages that I'm not so sure they can be entrusted with. You, on the other hand..."

"I..?" Neve took a step back. "You want me to kill two ancient elven mages, so powerful that one of them invented the Blight?" She smirked. "There's flattery and there's gross exaggeration, Solas."

"I would never ask you such a thing, you misunderstand," he smiled. "What I mean is that Grey Wardens and the other followers of Anders need to be directed, they need to be made to work together to kill those two elven mages, and I believe that you can bring them together much better than Anders ever could. That is all."

"Hmm..." Neve rubbed her chin, looking at Solas with suspicion. "And how would I do that? They kicked me out."

"They are not all that devoted to Anders, you know. They follow him because they want to get to the Blight," Solas looked slyly at her. "If they see a better leader, they'll switch. You just need to show them you are the better leader."

Neve didn't like what Solas was suggesting, her gut was telling her it was a trap. But it was oh so tempting on so many levels. Defeat the Blight. She, Neve Gallus, would lead Grey Wardens against the Blight. She would get the proof that Tevinter was wrongly blamed for it for over a thousand years. She would single-handedly deliver Tevinter into a new era of respect and prosperity... Why, that would get her a seat at the Magisterium, no doubt. And then she would show this Dorian Pavus how things are done! Blood magic will no longer be banned. Elves will remain enslaved. Tevinter will rise from the ruins and outshine every other country in Thedas, as was its right! And she, Neve Gallus...

Neve made an effort and snapped out of her reverie.

"Very well," she finally said. "What is my first step?"

Morning Star, 3E411 - A man and his cat

"You don't know anything of this, do you? Little Pounce-a-lot," Anders was sitting on a snow-covered rock overlooking a valley in the Anderfels. A little black and white kitten was playing with a toy he made, rolling around on his lap. "Look at all this snow," he gazed down the valley. "I've always liked snow... always missed it in Ferelden. Always felt at home at the Soldier's Peak... may be it was thanks to the snow." The kitten finally got the toy and was now looking at Anders with those big milky blue eyes - do it again! "Let the game continue, eh?" Anders smiled. "The same as with us... only I've had quite enough of that one already..." He flicked his wrist letting the toy levitate just above the kitten, always remaining slightly out of reach. "Exactly like with us... no, that's no fun. You have to be able to get it... Here... try again." He reduced the distance between the toy and the kitten. The kitten jumped and missed, but now it stood a chance of catching it and Anders smiled. "That's better. You'll get it, little one."

Anders rolled up his sleeves and examined his forearms. Most scars were still bleeding slightly. He'd been using blood to power his magic every day for the past week, and he started feeling the strain. His blood reserves weren't unlimited, there was not enough time to recover... And what did it get them? Several large blighted boils destroyed, true, but there seemed to be no end to them, with their tentacles leading deeper and deeper into the earth. It weren't Deep Roads, these were caves, dark and damp, and wrong somehow. "Those caves go into the Fade," Anders thought. "If Solas told the truth and the elven goddess that invented the Blight is indeed a goddess in the sense that she can walk in Mundus as well as in the Fade... well then, perhaps her Blight can do it too. Perhaps it's a portal... or perhaps the Fade leaks into Mundus... is that even possible? It is, I suppose..."

He rolled down his sleeves and shivered - the loss of blood was making him chilly. He had been careful to keep back the Wardens and avoid losing any of them to the fights with blighted boils. His team of non-Wardens was all too happy to help, they've been yearning for real action, and they were getting it now. "Not unlike new Wardens," he smirked. "At first darkspawn is exciting... exotic... but the novelty soon wears off, and you never get used to the stench."

Despite their successes against that blighted demonic growth, Anders felt like it was a trap tightening around them. They had to find the second Archdemon to make it possible to kill the other elven mage, but none of the Grey Wardens could sense it clearly enough to locate. This Blight was different indeed - it was toying with them. He was becoming more and more convinced that going after the blighted boils was a false track. He had been coming to that spot for a few days already, sitting outside the main Keep overlooking the valley, with all the snow spread before him... the serenity of it calmed his spirit and allowed him to think, to form a plan for the following day. But now he realised that the plans were unchanging, and not leading anywhere in particular. The cold was embracing him, and he let it, allowing the chill to still the fever of his spirit... He was such a mess! "Look at me, sitting here, wallowing in emotion like a schoolgirl or something," he smirked. "A leader is not supposed to get emotional, is he? A leader is supposed to stay calm and composed under any circumstances... to keep a cool head... to know what to do..." He stroked the kitten who tired of playing and was now curled up in the folds of his robe, ready to fall asleep. "A leader does not play with kittens. The Wardens were right all along." He shook his head, just saying this did not make him want to remove his little furry friend. No, he was no leader. He was Anders, the one mage who always made a mess.

"Frost magic..." Anders opened his hand and a flurry of snowflakes rose from it. "That's what I should have focused on. Not blood, not lightning... frost. You don't even need blood to power a blizzard... you just need determination. Remain calm, purge all emotion and cast your spell. While I... flashbacks of Justice are good for a storm, yes, but the power still has to come from blood... or lyrium... which we haven't got... so, blood..." He sighed and shook his head. "And that leaves my own spirit perturbed and feverish, ready for another storm or inferno... Until one day I burn up in it..." He checked his scars under the sleeves again. "The bleeding stopped... but tomorrow I'll cut them again... and again... the pain brings pleasure now... the pain..."

Snowflakes were falling on his bare arms and not melting, but he didn't feel the cold. The kitten on his lap crawled deeper into the folds of his robe, trying to keep warm. Anders turned his face to the sky, letting the snowflakes cover it too. "The pain..." He let his mental gaze wander over his life. "I am not gay... and yet... how many men have I let convince themselves otherwise? I was seeking pain... Women were for pleasure, men were for pain... The pain that makes me forget the other pain that is greater..." The cold wasn't calming the fever in his chest, so he opened up his robes, dropping them off the shoulders while still keeping warm the kitten on his lap. The snowflakes were now falling onto his neck and arms, blotting out the ink of his tattoos. "The pain of the spirit... Always walking the edge... A spirit that is never at rest... Am I possessed by a demon? That would be an easy way out... no... this spirit is my own... Justice sought to calm it and couldn't, he couldn't even blot it out... that's why we clashed..." Anders pulled his arms out of the robe completely, leaving his entire torso exposed to the falling snow. The kitten nestled deep in the folds of his robe still covering his groin. "You found the one place that's warmest," Anders smiled. "My little friend. I'll keep you warm, never fear." A healer, he would give all of himself to keep his charge alive. Time and again he would collapse when the treatment was over, and time and again no one would come to his aid, the patient simply walking away, leaving a few coppers behind... He didn't do it for money, he could always earn his keep, enough men were keen to pay for what he let them do. Kirkwall's Dust Town took it all, giving nothing in return apart from a chance to prolong one's existence, for it could not be called a life...

"Wolf found me there," Anders smirked to the memory. "He knew where to look. Wolf... where are you, my friend? Has your spirit found peace at last..?"

Anders' blond hair was now completely covered in snow that would not melt. His chest and arm tattoos were barely visible, his skin looked pale, almost blending with the snow in colour. His robe was gathered around his groin keeping a little kitten safe and warm inside it.

"Ahhh..." He sighed. "Yet the fever never stops... Apart from may be when I..." He smiled, falling back onto the snow. "When I finally find peace..."

Antaloor, so this is Two Worlds, correct? Yet another game I've been curious about for years...

http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=341015

This is Two Worlds II, although Antaloor is also the setting of Two Worlds I.

Morning Star, 3E411 - The cold within

When Anders did not return to the Keep by the time everyone went to bed, Lucanis started getting worried. Anders had been going out every night since they settled there, but he always returned calmed and with a plan for the following day, and Lucanis decided that he simply wanted to be alone to think, and so he left him alone. "But this is getting too late," he thought, looking out of the window over the snow-covered valley. A nagging feeling rose in him and he decided to break Anders' privacy and go looking for him.

The night was dark as the snow clouds were blotting out the stars and the moon, and Lucanis took a lamp with him. He walked around the Keep but saw nothing, realising that the light of the lamp was making it impossible to see anything outside of its circle, and he needed to see far rather than close. He doused the lamp and hoped he would not go head over heels off a cliff when he'd stumble on a rock he could not see.

Lucanis was walking in ever wider circles around the Keep, still not finding Anders anywhere. Had he gone into a cave? Did he hide in a crevice? Somehow he felt that none of it was the case. No, Anders loved snow. He would not want to waste such a peaceful snowfall, he would be out there, in the middle of it... "Getting snowed under," Lucanis shook his head.

At some point he heard a small sound like a young animal calling to him, he followed it and discovered a mage's robe in a high pile in the snow with a kitten inside it. Underneath the robe was Anders, completely buried, his body bare against the snow. "Let's get you home." Lucanis brushed off the snow, draped the robe around Anders with the kitten still hiding in it, and carried Anders back to the Keep.

...

"Hypothermia," Dorian examined Anders when Lucanis brought him back. "Something he's quite familiar with, I believe," he shook his head. "He's not dead, but he will be unless we warm him up."

It was something they could fix, a bath tub was brought up, water warmed, fire made in the grate. Enough people in the Keep knew how to treat it, but Lucanis was reluctant to make Anders' condition known too widely. Of course, he could not keep it a secret in a place like that, but there was no need to shout from the rooftops about it either. He called Dorian and Antoine, and they decided to keep it between them.

...

"I understand why you like the snow," Lucanis was sitting next to the bath tub talking to Anders even though Anders was unconscious in it. Lucanis was mostly making sure he would not fall asleep - the water temperature had to be kept constant and he was checking it every now and again and warming it up. Coffee aroma was filling the room. "The snow cools you down, I know," he was saying in Antivan, not bothering with the common tongue since Anders couldn't hear him anyway. "It's such a peculiar thing - snow," he shook his head. "Of course we don't have it in Antiva, but I've traveled enough to know what it is..." he smirked to himself. "It covers you like a blanket... people in the Anderfels even build houses out of it... and keep warm inside... which is why I don't understand why you got all cold like that..." He stroked Anders' face noting that it felt slightly warmer than before. The bath seemed to be working. "We'll get to the bottom of it... but first you need to warm up."

There was a knock on the door and Dorian entered.

"The bath seems to be working," he nodded approvingly, having examined Anders' condition. "You wouldn't notice it probably, but I can see the change in colour quite clearly - he is now slightly pink rather than completely white like before. And there is no necrosis anywhere."

"He's still unconscious though," Lucanis sighed. "Or am I being impatient?"

"You are, give him time," Dorian smiled. "He was so thoroughly chilled... seems strange in this weather..."

"That's what I was thinking as well," Lucanis looked up. "But he did pull down his robe... may be it's that?"

"May be... but something isn't right," Dorian shook his head with concern. "We can leave it for later though. Either way, he first needs to warm up." He sat down on a stool at the other side of the bath tub, looking into Anders' face. "He is so intense... I've never met anyone quite like him. I hadn't realised the depth of his intensity until he asked me for... well... I suppose you know... he asked me for sex so that he could change his mind about sex with men..."

"He said you were the only man he knew whom he could trust to do it properly," Lucanis nodded. "Meaning - with love and care."

"That hadn't been his experience till then, no," Dorian agreed. "Although of course I'm not the only man who doesn't just... well. You know what I mean." He sighed. "But he... that intensity... it's like the Fade itself is inside him."

"And in a way, it is," Lucanis rubbed his chest. "I kind of know what it's like..."

"Oh... Justice... Spite, with you," Dorian looked up. "But... forgive me... but you don't seem quite like him in that respect."

"I am not," Lucanis nodded. "Spite - Determination - is not like Justice. But it's his own spirit. I think he was like that already before Justice. Always walking the edge."

They sat in silence for a while, then Dorian got up and left, and Lucanis resumed his vigil of checking the water and making sure the temperature was exactly right.

...

"You are the opposite of me in so many ways," Lucanis switched back to Antivan, talking to Anders again. "I am all about preparation, deliberation, calculation and then fast execution... study the target, prepare the ground, go for the kill. I get into difficulties when things drag on... of course I have the skill to survive... but yours is a different way. Take it one step at a time, maintain status quo, give it your all, hold nothing back... then stop, regroup, heal, resume... Your opponent cannot be studied, your target is always moving... be it darkspawn or disease, you treat it the same... a warrior and a healer in one..." Anders twitched and Lucanis stopped talking. Was Anders finally waking up? A few minutes passed, but he was still unconscious. Lucanis sighed and checked the water - it was time for a warm-up.

The night turned into morning, but Anders was still the same. His colour improved and Dorian was satisfied with the progress, assuring Lucanis that he just needed more time. He offered to take over but Lucanis refused, simply making more coffee.

"You should be awake by now, I'm certain of it," Lucanis too had an idea how to treat hypothermia. "Your skin is pink, your cheeks are warm..." He checked again to be sure. "So, what's keeping you away?" He brushed his cheek against Anders', not trusting his hand to catch a subtle change in temperature, but no, Anders was warm. Another check with his lips... then a kiss... slight at first, but then... there was a reply...

...

"It isn't supposed to work like that," Lucanis smiled a few minutes later. "It only works like that in fairy tales, and you aren't even a princess."

"I've been awake for a while already," Anders grinned. "I did not understand everything you said... but my Antivan is a lot better now than it was yesterday."

"You've been naughty," Lucanis smirked. "I was starting to worry."

"I was waiting for the kiss..."

...

A few hours later Lucanis called Dorian to tell him that Anders finally woke up. It was late afternoon and the Keep was buzzing with conversations about Anders and whatever happened to him. There was no way to keep a secret in a place like that.

"That snow wasn't completely natural," Anders was telling the people who gathered to discuss the situation in earnest. "I went out for a bit of peace and quiet to think over our next steps like I've done the previous days, and it was snowing, but there was more to it than just the weather."

"Frost magic?" Dorian looked up. "You seemed to be chilled from the inside in addition to hypothermia."

"I suspect a frost mage weaving enchantments into the snow, yes," Anders nodded. "Very skillfully done. I didn't notice anything until it was too late."

"Neve Gallus committing a murder?" Dorian exclaimed angrily.

"If so, this is my cue," Lucanis grew somber.

"No, wait," Emmrich shook his head. "We need to know who she's working for. And what was the point of killing Anders. The threat of the Blight remains, without Anders, without Grey Wardens, this world will end, and Neve must see that. We have to understand what she is trying to achieve."

...

"Anders is dead," Neve met Solas in the Fade again. "He will never wake up from that hypothermia."

"Anders is not dead," Solas shook his head. "He was rescued. But it's just as well, even better, in fact. Everyone has seen his weakness now - he is not a good leader. It's time to show them what a good leader should be like."

"Alright, what's your plan?" Neve squinted. It had been Solas' idea to mix frost magic with the natural cold and let Anders succumb to it when he was alone. He wasn't supposed to be rescued, but it seemed he had some friends after all. It did not matter, a few friends would not make any difference. Solas' advice so far had been solid, and Neve was ready to take the next step.

"Now you lead them to the second Archdemon," Solas smiled. "All Grey Wardens can sense that there is one, but they are confused and cannot locate it. The Archdemon is masked, Grey Warden blood was used on it and it confuses their senses. You, on the other hand, will know exactly where it is. You will lead them there and they will kill it."

"You make it sound too easy," Neve was being cautious. "There must be a catch."

"Well... it won't be easy to do," Solas admitted. "I shall tell you where the Archdemon is because I can locate it, but it is in the Fade, and most Grey Wardens are warriors - they are not comfortable being in the Fade. Most mages are not comfortable with it either, for that matter. You will need to rally them and make them reach their goal. Once they see the Archdemon, they will attack, never fear, but you need to get them there."

"Why are you not telling Anders about this?" Neve was still unconvinced. "You've helped him before, and he is the actual leader of Grey Wardens, good or not so good, but they follow him. Why have you let him go in circles fighting blighted growth instead of going straight for the Archdemon?"

"That blighted growth had to be removed to clear the way into the Fade," Solas objected. "It was not pointless and I have not led him astray. I could tell him about the Archdemon now, yes... but I don't want to. Someone will need to lead Grey Wardens to the Archdemon, and I want it to be you, not him."

Neve felt that Solas would not say any more. Whatever his real plan and intentions were, he was not showing her anything beyond what she needed to see. She did not like it, her gut was screaming of danger. But what choice did she have? Walk away from a chance to change history and carve a place for herself in it? Return to Minrathous Dock Town and her little apartment on the roof where she couldn't even get to comfortably, now that she had a prosthetic leg? Every prospect she could think of, was dreary. What Solas was offering was worth the risk.

"Well... I suppose I can trust you on this," she finally agreed. "Where is that Archdemon?"

Ah, I see. Interesting that Hauk does that chapter on his own.

There's a reason for that... Not saying anything else... Nope, nope...

Morning Star, 3E411 - Bonds of the past

"It isn't supposed to work like that and you aren't even a princess," Lucanis smiled when Anders finally woke up from his hypothermia-induced unconscious state responding to Lucanis' kiss.

"I've been awake for some time already," Anders smiled back. "I was waiting for the kiss."

"Well, alright, get out of the bath tub then," Lucanis handed him a towel. "Since you say you're awake..."

He walked over to the door and locked it, then started undressing.

"What are you doing?" Anders looked up in surprise from under his towel.

"I haven't slept the night, I need some rest," Lucanis shrugged. "As do you."

"Umm..." Anders finished drying himself off and threw the towel aside. "If you say so."

Lucanis added some logs to the fire and came close, taking Anders in an embrace, then lifting him up.

"I can walk!" Anders protested.

"I carried you from that snowed-under hill all the way to here, I can carry you a few more paces," Lucanis shook his head. "Shush."

He carried him to the bed and put him down gently, then got into bed too.

"You had me worried," he said, starting a languid, deliberate kiss. "Que tengo miedo a perderte, perderte después..." The song they danced to in Treviso played in their heads, the danger of losing each other staring them in the face.

Lucanis moved closer, sliding between Anders' legs and pushing Anders on his back. His breathing deepened, while Anders halted his for a moment, then exhaled sharply.

"Finally," he whispered.

"No more holding back," Lucanis smiled, starting to move. "Mathilda will no longer stand between us."

It was the first time that Lucanis took the lead. Until then he only accepted what Anders offered, remaining passive, as if preserving himself for someone else. And in fact he was - Mathilda was never far away from his thoughts. But during the night when Anders was lying unconscious in a bath of lukewarm water, Lucanis had the time to take a close look at his feelings.

When Mathilda got married over twenty five years ago, Lucanis thought that it closed a chapter in his life - that in which he loved Mathilda deeply and passionately, so deeply that he did not want to endanger her life by marrying her, and so he let her go. She accepted his sacrifice, not even asking him to reconsider. They haven't spoken since, and thus she remained in his memory exactly as she was the last time they spent the night together, in all her charm and beauty.

Mathilda's marriage did not bring her children but instead it brought her wealth and standing, and when her husband was eventually assassinated by the Crows, everyone thought she had been the contract giver. Everyone thought too that a wedding between her and Lucanis would take place immediately after the end of her mourning term... but it didn't happen. Lucanis watched Mathilda from the sidelines, still not even exchanging a word with her. No one dared to broach the topic with him, and after a while people stopped talking about it. Perhaps he didn't love her anymore.

Nothing could be further from the truth, however. Lucanis still loved Mathilda as passionately as ever, but the woman that came to him in his dreams was not the middle-aged widow of a rich nobleman - it was the woman from his youth. It wasn't the years or the grey in her hair that kept him back, it was her demeanour, her manner, her speech - everything that made up her outward personality seemed to have changed, and Lucanis feared that the inner core might have changed as well. He feared to discover that the woman he loved no longer existed.

Lucanis never meant to become involved with a man; what happened with Anders took him completely by surprise. He put it down to his unwillingness to accept any woman to replace Mathilda - Anders was not a woman, and thus posed no threat to his love. Anders was his accidental rescuer, having helped him to escape from the underwater prison. Anders was his healer and the man that stood between him and death, not letting him commit suicide by ripping up the stitches that he kept putting back in. Anders was insufferably stubborn and didn't think that being an abomination was such a big deal, having gone through it himself. Anders was emotional, impulsive, reckless and abrupt, and he'd never give up on him even if he had to bleed himself to death for that... Anders held nothing back. Anders was everything Lucanis was not.

The first time Lucanis kissed him, it was out of spite. He couldn't quite explain to himself how that figured, but that was what he felt. It was impulsive and reckless... but Anders was neither a target nor a client, so there was no need to hold back.

Anders always walked the edge... and that was where they met. Lucanis' passion was not reserved exclusively for Mathilda, he discovered. This blond blood mage took him to Ferelden, they met people with remarkably open views and attitudes... people that loved the other Antivan despite all the controversy around him, which was nothing compared to the controversy around themselves. Ferelden Grey Wardens outshone every tall tale that Lucanis had heard about them and didn't believe.

Anders fought darkspawn "like a bleeding Archdemon", as someone put it. Lucanis had never fought alongside Grey Wardens before and had hardly ever seen darkspawn. Facing it in great numbers for the first time took every bit of his courage just not to run away screaming. He then understood where Conscription Ale came from - that terror kept haunting his dreams, and that must have been nothing compared to facing an Archdemon in your sleep as every Grey Warden did... When Anders would wake up shaking in the middle of the night and take a long swig of his Conscription Ale, Lucanis only wondered how he could stand it. But Anders would shrug and smile, although rarely return to bed after such a dream.

Lucanis enjoyed toying with the idea of a gay relationship - it was all nonsense, he was not gay, and Anders was just a friend... They shared a bed, but nothing ever happened, apart from an occasional kiss which Lucanis could neither explain nor justify to himself. He wanted to kiss him and he did... that was it. Not questioning or analysing it was new to him but he didn't question or analyse that either.

Being a bait was new to Lucanis as well. Going to The Gay Vint with Anders, putting himself on display, making a show of it even, all with the hope of being led into a deadly trap... the audacity of it was exhilarating. And there, dancing the tango, Lucanis realised that he wanted more than an occasional kiss. He would let this mage come close... he would let him in. And when Zara lay dead, he did.

"And that is why you chose a man..." He recalled his grandmother's words later. A man was no replacement for Mathilda, his love was still safe.

"Teia felt it," Lucanis was thinking of the evening in Treviso. "She was urging me to speak to Mathilda again, to bring her back into my life... and I resisted. Perhaps I had already made up my mind by then..." He stroked Anders' hair pretending to himself to be checking his temperature. "Ridiculous," he smirked. "Whom am I fooling?"

His beautiful Anders, his emotional lover, impulsive, reckless and abrupt, was lying near-dead in a bath of lukewarm water... and there wasn't much else that Lucanis could do but to keep the water lukewarm...

...

Lucanis pulled out and rolled over to his side, taking Anders in a whole-body embrace.

"Did I hurt you? Why are you crying?" He kissed away the tears from Anders' face.

"I am happy," Anders smiled. "This is the first time..."

"I know... it took me long enough," Lucanis looked apologetic. "But Mathilda's ghost is now gone, it no longer rules over me..."

"I think Spite kicked it out," Anders laughed.

"Not Spite... you did. I love you. This is the real thing, the other love was but a memory..."

"Luca... No more suicides, promise me!" He looked him in the eye, growing serious. "I know what you did to my stitches, I am not that bad of a healer," he smirked. "If you want death... if you really want death... just ask."

"I made peace with my spirits, I no longer want death," Lucanis answered equally seriously. "And I must ask the same of you. If you wish to die in the snow, please tell me."

Anders smiled and kissed him in response.

"No," he shook his head. "But Amaya will be disappointed."

"Amaya? Who..?" Lucanis pulled back in surprise. "Oh... the girl at the Soldier's Peak," he recalled.

"Amaya is thirteen years old," Anders said angrily. "Yet she comes in making demands on me! Flattering at first, for sure, but come to think of it, what am I supposed to do? She has no claim on me!"

"No?" Lucanis was finding Anders' anger amusing. "You are surprised she has a crush on the one man who pulled her through every life-threatening crisis she can remember and a few she can't, including her very birth?"

"I am a healer, that's what I do," Anders looked confused. "I delivered so many children..."

"I know, and now you've got one with a crush on you," Lucanis said soothingly. "Why did you tell her to wait ten years? Surely, she will become a woman before she turns twenty three!"

"And I hope she won't wait for me to usher her into womanhood," Anders nodded. "That's why. I hope nature will proclaim itself and she will grow up as a normal teenager..."

"...and find herself someone else to love?" Lucanis finished his sentence. "But why, Anders? She's a lovely girl..."

"Amaya is a child," Anders shook his head. "I fear she will always remain a child to me. And anyhow, in ten years I shall be an old Warden ready to die in the Deep Roads, not take on a young wife! I could never give her children either... I mustn't, even if I could..."

"Because of the taint?"

"The Blight... yeah..."

Lucanis stroked his face and kissed him.

"You should tell her that," he said softly. "Without waiting ten years."

"You should have talked to Mathilda," Anders frowned.

"I should have," Lucanis agreed, surprising himself. "I have a feeling I shall have to, and not at a time of my choosing... but I know what to say. It's been too long, we've made our choices... she made her choices, too. And now I've made mine. I have a Warden to protect." He smiled and kissed him. "From the cold hiding inside the snow."

To their surprise, spirit wings appeared at Lucanis' back, wrapping around them like a cocoon.

Ha ha okay!

Morning Star, 3E411 - A double agent

When the following morning there was a knock on the door, neither Anders nor Lucanis were out of bed yet.

"Hmm?" Anders was still half asleep. "What time is it? Oh, come in!"

The door opened and shut quickly and Harding slipped into the room, making sure that no one saw her come in.

"Are you awake? I hope you're awake, it's awfully early!" She said in a hushed voice, approaching the bed. "Come on, wake up, it's important!"

"What's up, Lace?" Anders sat up. "You're all flustered... What's wrong?"

"Nothing yet..." Harding looked over her shoulder as if expecting someone to have slipped into the room after her. "But I've heard things... You should call Alistair in. It's time Ferelden Wardens made an appearance."

"This sounds serious, I'll make coffee," Lucanis decided, getting out of bed.

"Oh my..." Harding took a step back and grinned. "You're... not wearing much."

"So you get to see all my man parts," Lucanis grinned back. "But I must warn you - I'm already spoken for."

"Cut it out and tell us what's wrong," Anders frowned, also getting out of bed. "Come on now, you woke us up." Then, turning to Lucanis, he added: "Luca, make tea for Harding, she doesn't like coffee."

"Doesn't like coffee but rather enjoys seeing two men naked," Lucanis smirked. "At your service." He handed Harding a cup of tea which she accepted without taking her eyes off the two naked men before her.

"Now, speak!" Anders was getting cross, he hated being woken up early.

"Err... oh, right." Harding redressed herself. "Something is up. Varric is calling you names again."

"Scheisszwerg," Anders swore. "Is that all?"

"No... he's also suggesting you should be dismissed," Harding shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "That you cannot lead Grey Wardens. That Davrin should take over."

"Aha," Anders rubbed his face, trying to finally wake up. "So I'll just leave then, shall I? I never wanted to lead this mad party in the first place! But he insisted... what got into him now?"

"He's still sore after you called him that nickname in public," Harding looked up. "It is... well..."

"I know what it is, it's in my language!" Anders exploded. "Blöde Scheiße! I've had enough of him, I swear!"

"He says he's got a replacement for you..." Harding was watching Anders pace the room, the ink of his Grey Warden tattoos contrasting with his pale skin. "Is your ink glowing?" She suddenly asked.

"Yeah... I'm angry... my magic boils when I'm angry..." He turned to her abruptly. "What replacement?"

"I don't know," Harding said slowly. "But he's been saying that he found someone who knows how to find the remaining Archdemon and that Davrin could lead the Wardens to it."

"Neve," Lucanis hissed through his teeth.

"And how would she know it?" Anders stopped and took a deep breath, dimming the glow of his tattoos. "She is not a Grey Warden, and even we cannot locate it."

"May be she had help?" Harding suggested. "If Varric indeed means her, that is."

"The only person who can locate that Archdemon is Solas," Anders finally calmed down. "Besides the two elven gods, that is. And Solas hasn't been talking to me for a while now... of course, I haven't exactly gone out of my way to reach him..."

"If Solas is really Fen'Harel, he could have double-crossed you," Lucanis pointed out.

"Yeah... very likely," Anders agreed. "And he cannot leave his prison in the Fade, so he cannot turn up here himself... so he sends a proxy," Anders nodded. "That fits. But why does he want me dead?"

"Because you don't trust him, perhaps?" Harding offered. "He's sure to have his own plan with respect to those gods, and you are too unreliable for him."

"We should call Alistair, you're right," Anders sat down and picked up his coffee again. "It'll take them a week to get here... by that time the party should be in full swing." Then, turning to Lucanis, he called: "Spite! Determination! Show yourself."

A spirit copy of Lucanis materialised in the room and Harding shivered.

"I'll never get used to this..." she sighed. "Has he been listening in all the while? Why is he fully dressed?"

"Two naked men not enough for you, eh?" Lucanis smirked. "This is what I was wearing when Zara forced The Spirit of Determination into me. He got this as his human form. Not naked, sorry."

"I shall contact Avernus," Spite hissed. "He will call Alistair. And yes - Solas got Neve to intervene, she tried to kill you," he turned to Anders. "I was watching... you would not have died... but he didn't need my help..." he jerked his head towards Lucanis. "I try not to interfere... unless I have to..."

"Do you know where that Archdemon is?" Anders asked.

"No... Solas keeps me out... Solas is powerful but stuck at the moment. But still, he shields himself from other spirits..."

"Other spirits? Solas is a spirit???" Anders jumped up.

"Spirit and man both," Spite nodded. "Walks in the Fade, walks in Mundus. Ancient elves were like that... still are... the gods are like that..."

"And the Archdemon presumably also," Anders nodded. "In which case..." he smirked, realising something. "I know where it is. The Archdemon is in the Fade."

"That's a start," Harding smiled. "And how do we find that Archdemon in the Fade?"

"Umm... we follow Neve, perhaps?" He smiled slyly. "Bring darling Neve here, receive her with tea and cakes, let that Scheisszwerg make her the queen of the party... Let Davrin lead the Wardens... he won't see where he's going from behind his bloated ego..."

"You will need an agent in this forward party," Harding smiled.

"Indeed," Anders got up and started putting on clothes. "A double agent. Harding, you are with them. You hate and detest me, now that you've seen me naked... literally and figuratively, after that stunt in the snow..."

"I've seen you naked before though," Harding smirked. "But I get you. We want to know all there is to know... leave it to me."

"I hope Dorian is awake," Anders put his hand on the door handle. "I'll bring him here. I'm wanting sex again, see..." he winked. "That's my line. We need to find out who's with us and who is not."

"And the Wardens?" Lucanis looked up, also getting dressed.

"The Wardens don't really care. I am not a Commander, and neither is Davrin. The lead is temporary. The Wardens will follow whoever knows where they are going."

They nodded to each other and Anders left the room, followed by Harding shortly afterwards. The game was on.

...

Anders was making a show of himself. He was acting much more rowdy than usual, emphasizing his sexual desires and downplaying everything else. People who trusted him, believed it was an act; people who were looking for an excuse to berate him, got what they wanted. The Wardens sensed him better than non-Wardens and did not worry. He could be affected by the Blight or he could simply be drunk, both were common and deserved no further consideration. The first darkspawn appearing would set him straight again.

Neve appeared at the Keep a day later, having received an invitation from Varric who was leading the opposition. Neve claimed to know where the Archdemon was, and she would lead the Wardens to it. Davrin named himself Commander and ordered Anders to be locked up in the dungeons, but no one was going to do that. He was therefore left with glaring at Anders every time their paths crossed.

Dorian was spending his nights with Anders and Lucanis, and Anders made sure everyone knew why... in reality however they were preparing for action.

"Emmrich is with us," Dorian was saying. "He sees through your ruse, Anders," he smiled. "He also sees that Neve is acting on the orders of Solas, and he does not trust it. But Emmrich is not a spy - Varric doesn't trust him and so Emmrich cannot help us with information. But when the time for fighting comes, we shall be glad to have him on our side."

"Emmrich is a powerful mage, agreed," Anders nodded. "We've got a spy already... it's fine."

"Bellara is with Varric," Dorian continued. "Perhaps you should have worked harder on her when you had the chance," he smirked. "She has some potent magic, I'd rather not face her in battle."

"Are we going to fight them?" Lucanis looked up.

"I hope not," Anders sighed. "I hope this is just rivalry. After all, we all want the same thing - defeat the Blight."

"Yes, but Neve also wants to defeat Dorian," Lucanis pointed out. "With words, if not on the battlefield. That much is obvious."

"I wonder what Solas promised her... Hmm..." Dorian mused. "That she would be the one to usher Tevinter into a new era of prosperity? If she can prove that we didn't corrupt the Golden City but that ancient elves did it... That's every Venatori's dream. She would certainly get a seat at the Magisterium for it."

"She will not live to make use of it though," Lucanis said darkly. "I have a contract on her life and I intend to fulfill it. The only question is when."

"When we no longer need her," Anders touched his hand. "There is no rush, is there?"

"No rush," Lucanis nodded.

"So, who else have we got?" Anders went through a mental list of companions. "Taash. Taash is with Davrin, I presume."

"Taash?" Lucanis was surprised. "But she adores you!"

"She adores Harding a lot more, and Harding is with Davrin," Anders pointed out. "Taash will have figured it out, not saying anything. She will keep Davrin in check, and enjoy doing so."

"Antoine? Surely, he is with us," Lucanis realised that was the end of the list.

"He is, but not openly so," Anders nodded. "Antoine is mostly concerned for the well-being of the Wardens. They listen to him, too, rather more than to Davrin. He'll tug along with Davrin, but he is really with us."

"Another double agent," Dorian smiled. "Which leaves just the four of us to follow the forward group discreetly - we here and Emmrich."

"Three mages!" Lucanis shook his head. "I get saddled with three mages!"

"We'll do our best not to annoy," Dorian smirked.

"Alright, that's as much planning as we can possibly do," Anders got up, stretching. "It's the middle of the night... let's see if we can get a few hours sleep before the circus resumes tomorrow..."

...

"Wardens!" Neve was addressing a dozen Grey Wardens in battle attire. "Follow me, I shall lead you to the last remaining Archdemon! And together we'll slay it!"

"This will put an end to all Blights once and for all!" Davrin added enthusiastically but the Wardens didn't seem convinced.

"Well, actually, no, it won't end the Blights yet, but it is a necessary step to that goal!" Neve tried to correct him. "You've killed the first Archdemon," she addressed Grey Wardens again. "That made one escaped elven god mortal again. Now we have to do the same with the second. And then - on to the gods themselves! And that will end all Blights."

"Do you know where to find the gods?" Someone asked from the back of the room.

"Not yet..." Neve shuffled her feet. "But I'm sure I will, later!"

"Hmm..."

"The second Archdemon needs to die, it's clear, is it not?" Antoine spoke from amidst Grey Wardens. "So we can go and do it. Then we'll see."

"Be happy Antoine is backing you up for now," Varric said quietly to Neve. "He won't for long, but for now he's with you. Use it."

Neve nodded and smiled her most engaging and brilliant smile.

"Let's go, Wardens!" She spoke in an upbeat voice. "After the Archdemon! Into the Fade itself!"

That was the first time she mentioned that the Archdemon was in the Fade. Uncomfortable noises went through the Wardens, and if it wasn't for Antoine, they would have flatly turned around and marched off. But Antoine said something to one of them, and something else to another, and glances were thrown into the far corner where Anders stood with Dorian, Lucanis and Emmrich... Then the Wardens finally turned to Neve and Davrin again, nodding their agreement. Perhaps they saw the situation much clearer than Neve would have liked.

They set off. The way to the Fade was free, thanks to Anders' efforts in removing blighted boils previously. The Wardens hadn't seen it done because Anders had kept them back, but they could see what carnage took place there in the heaps of dead darkspawn covering the ground.

The transition into the Fade was subtle, and only mages noticed that the realm had changed. After some time also non-mages realised they were in the Fade - it made their skin crawl. Yet the place was peaceful with nothing attacking them, but everyone was on edge.

The Archdemon was resting on a large rock. It was nothing but a dragon asleep, a darkspawn dragon perhaps, but just a dragon... Taash readied her axes and everyone tensed, then Neve attacked.

The battle was as ferocious as could be expected - it was a fierce dragon imbued with some unknown Blight magic giving it far more endurance and power than anyone thought possible. Many Wardens fell before their combined efforts finally got the Archdemon down and dead. But, like with the first Archdemon, the death of this dragon did not claim a Warden's life. This Blight was different, the dragon's spirit was seen to rise from its body and drift away and out of sight. Everyone thought it was reunited with the elven god to whom it belonged.

Neve wanted to return to the Keep with all haste, but the Wardens insisted on carrying their dead comrades back with them, not wishing to leave them in the Fade.

"It's alright to die in the Deep Roads, that's what Wardens do," one of them explained to Neve. "But this is the Fade. There is no knowing what will happen to their bodies here, and it is our duty to return them to Mundus. We'll bury them there."

Neve tried to object but her arguments weren't listened to.

Anders and his companions followed Neve's group a short distance behind, not hiding at all. Their intentions had been clear from the start, and it didn't seem that Neve was bothered by that. Varric glared at them a few times but said nothing either. They joined the battle and were glad to realise that no one was trying to fight them but was focusing on the dragon; and when the battle was done, no one prevented Anders from trying to help anyone still alive. Neve didn't bring any other healers.

Back at the Keep the tension coming from Neve, Varric and Davrin was palpable. Taash was following Davrin everywhere, not taking her eyes off him or her hand off the hilt of her axe. Harding vanished, Antoine mixed among the Wardens attending to the dead; Anders joined the other healers attending to the living. It was a truce, that much was clear. But for how long? And what would be the next step? A few people knew, a few more guessed, and the majority were too tired to care. An Archdemon was slain that day, that was enough.

Morning Star, 3E411 - Life in death

"Get him out of here," Evka said to Lucanis. "His wrists don't stop bleeding and I don't think there's any blood left in him to give away. And yet he won't stop."

"There are still people needing his help," Lucanis watched Anders slit his wrist again converting his blood into healing magic. "He will keep going until he collapses..."

"My point exactly," Evka nodded. "Get him out of here."

...

"But I still have patients waiting!" Anders was protesting but Lucanis put his arm around his shoulders and firmly led him away.

"Give the other healers a chance to be useful too," he joked.

"This Blight is different - the wounds don't heal properly!" Anders was saying with worry. "And that includes my wrists..."

"Which is why you should stop cutting yourself for today," Lucanis opened the door to their room, ushered Anders in and closed the door behind them. "I shall not insist that you eat now, I think sleep is more important. Let's get you to bed."

Anders didn't need convincing - he was collapsing. Lucanis caught him and put him on the bed.

"Gone too far again," he shook his head.

"Eh? No, I'm not dead yet," Anders came to. "But yeah... tired." He undressed and got into bed. "Join me."

It was late and they'd had a long and hard day, and Lucanis too was tired. As soon as he got into bed, Anders kissed him passionately.

"I thought you were tired," Lucanis was surprised. "I know I am."

"And I need you to rise above it. Hurt me."

"WHAT?!"

"Hurt me," Anders repeated. "Put your gentle manner aside and hurt me."

"What are you asking? Why?" Lucanis lost all sleepiness, this was more than strange.

"When I was a healer in Kirkwall," Anders looked serious. "I didn't do it for money. My patients couldn't pay and I never asked. You know what I did to earn some coin..." He gave Lucanis a long look and Lucanis nodded. "Well... it was then that I discovered that one pain can heal another. My wrists..."

"You want me to make you bleed elsewhere in order to heal your wrists?!" Lucanis shook his head vigorously.

"Precisely," Anders smiled.

"No," Lucanis said firmly. "I won't do it. I love you, I am not one of those men. There are other ways, Linus," he said softly. "Now we sleep, and in the morning I'll make you the largest omelette you've ever seen, I think we even have ham in the kitchen..." He stopped talking, realising that Anders passed out again. His wrists were still bleeding, if only slightly. This Blight was not like the others.

...

The following morning Lucanis insisted that Anders should refrain from healing for a day and actually eat that large omelette that he had promised him the night before. They didn't mention the other part of their conversation as if it never happened, but they both knew that of course it did.

In the afternoon a young Warden whom Anders had never seen before, came running to the Keep.

"Anders! Warden Anders!" He called. "Oh, there you are... Alistair wants you at the Head Quarters straight away," he delivered his message in a rush. "We just got here from Ferelden... yeah, I'm a recent recruit... you don't know me but I sure know you..." He had to stop talking to catch his breath. "Anyway... no, it's not an emergency," he shook his head, seeing a question in Anders' eyes. "But still, please come immediately. It's important."

"That's just as well," Lucanis nodded. "Neve still doesn't know what to do next and the Wardens here need to heal. Come on, I am sure Harding will send a message if anything changes," he added in a hushed voice.

...

When they arrived at the Head Quarters, they found a sizeable group of Ferelden Wardens making themselves at home in the dormitories, and Anders instantly felt at ease with so many familiar faces around. He went looking for Alistair whom he found in conversation with Roderik, the one Warden staying at the Head Quarters who could still walk.

"There have been strange sightings," Roderik was saying. "It's darkspawn but it's different. Deliberate, intelligent even - nothing like what we've seen before."

"Does that sound familiar?" Alistair turned to Anders. "You were with Wolf when you discovered this new kind of intelligent darkspawn just after the last Blight..."

"Yes, but what Roderik is describing, is even more intelligent than that..." Anders shook his head. "Who reported the sightings?"

"He died this morning," Roderik looked down. "An old Warden, he had gone to the Deep Roads... he'd had plenty of fights and was badly wounded, but then he found this new darkspawn and instead of pressing on and seeking relief in battle, he turned back and came here to warn us... but his wounds got him in the end."

"Peace be with him now," Anders said softly. "But we must act on this. He thought it was important, we should go and see."

"And you've got Roderik's map with Deep Roads entrances," Alistair pointed out. "Are you fit to fight? You look rather... err... under the weather." Alistair tried to be diplomatic and everyone smiled at his failed attempt.

"He has been doing too much healing," Lucanis jacked one of Anders' sleeves. The cuts were still raw, although the bleeding finally stopped.

"The wounds don't heal very well," Avernus walked up to them. "These cuts are from yesterday, yes? They should have been covered over, ready to resume... but you're not ready by any stretch of imagination..." He stopped talking as Anders glared. "Oh my boy, remember who put you back together time and time again..." Avernus smiled. "This reminds me of why you became a Warden. No magic and no potion could stop the taint from spreading... Nothing except the Joining Cup."

"Becoming a Warden is not a cure," Anders shook his head.

"No, but an Archdemon's blood that is a part of the mixture, does appear to be different from plain darkspawn blood. It gives you life, even if ultimately it kills you."

"Well, we did fight an Archdemon..." Anders rubbed his chin. "We all got its blood sprayed onto us, I am sure... But what does this mean?"

"That it is reacting to the Archdemon's blood that you had ingested during the Joining? And that they are at odds with each other?" Avernus looked at Anders searching. "I couldn't really tell..."

"We should investigate," Anders concluded. "Who's with me?"

...

No, they could not persuade him to stay behind. The best they could do was make him promise to forego blood magic and give his wrists a rest even at the expense of the power of his spells. Lucanis looked grim and resigned to stay close, vividly remembering the conversation from the night before. This new pain was not going to heal the pain that Anders already carried.

They noted several entrances to the Deep Roads on Roderik's map and decided to head for the one closest to the old Grey Wardens Vault. That area was remarkably free of blighted boils which, according to Anders, did not bode well. Non-Wardens could not see the logic of that, but Wardens all nodded in agreement. The absence of blighted boils meant that even more powerful darkspawn was holding that area.

"Plus, we've never actually gone to the Vaults themselves," Anders pointed out. "We got side-tracked by those boils!"

They assembled a group of half a dozen Wardens in addition to Dorian, Emmrich and Lucanis who did not let anyone to talk them out of going. If Anders was not allowed to use blood magic, he needed other mages with him to make sure his wrists remained uncut. It was already late afternoon, but it would be dark in the caverns at any time of day, and everyone was too high strung to sleep anyway. They set off without delay.

They reached the Vaults without any noteworthy resistance and dismantled the traps guarding the gates. Anders was shaking his head in disbelief - those traps weren't that hard to remove, how could Grey Wardens Vaults be only protected by something as flimsy as that? The answer was waiting for them as soon as they pushed the old doors open - they faced a fully grown griffon poised to kill them.

The Wardens froze, Anders included. Grey Wardens did not fight griffons. On the contrary, griffons had been Grey Wardens' allies since the beginning of the Blight, they had a natural ability to sense darkspawn and they slayed it ferociously. Unfortunately, griffons had all but died out after the Fourth Blight, and no one knew exactly why. There were still a few of them in the wilds of the Anderfels here and there, but only a few and they were no longer serving in Grey Warden ranks. The griffon facing them however was digging in aggressively, ready to attack.

"Wardens!" A hoarse yet clear voice was heard in the fortress, undoubtedly magically amplified. "Welcome, Wardens! Welcome home! Come join us in our eternal vigil at this old fort!"

The Wardens snapped out of their shock and exchanged glances, everyone waiting for Anders to act.

"Who are you?" Anders asked, looking around. The griffon was still angrily flapping its wings but did not attack.

"I have been the Keeper of these Vaults since the Fourth Blight," the voice replied. "You have nothing to fear. Come and join us!"

If it was a trap, it certainly was impressively authentic. A Keeper of the Vaults since the Fourth Blight? But the Fourth Blight was over four hundred years ago... even Avernus wasn't that old.

"Are you a spirit?" Anders asked, walking slowly and looking at huge cabinets lining the walls. Some had solid doors but others were only blocked off by bars. Strange artefacts were seen there, and many, many bones. Something about those bones was familiar... the shape, the size...

"These are bones of old Archdemons," someone realised. "The marrow is used in the Joining Cup... it's as good as blood."

"A nearly unlimited supply of Archdemon blood for the Joining," another Warden nodded.

"I am not a spirit!" The voice answered Anders' question. "I am a Grey Warden!"

They pushed the doors at the other end of the hall and entered a vast cavern, and there in the fog they saw the Head Quarters fortress, completely intact.

"Well, I didn't expect to find this here," Lucanis said what everyone thought. "How is this possible?"


"Wardens! Welcome home!" The voice said again and several figures stepped out of the fog. As they approached, Grey Warden crests on their armour became visible, yet with every step they took, the Wardens that were with Anders, grew more and more restless.

"Darkspawn!" One of them said in a worried voice. "These are not Wardens, this is darkspawn!"

"Wardens! Join us!" The voice spoke again. "You are tainted by the same Blight as we are! We have drunk your blood as you drink ours! Join us in our eternal vigil!"

"Darkspawn impersonating Grey Wardens?" Avernus shook his head in disbelief. "If someone had told me about this, I'd have thought they went mad..."

"We are not impersonating Grey Wardens, Avernus!" The voice sounded slightly hurt. "We are Grey Wardens! But I shall forgive you this misunderstanding. Ever since the Fourth Blight we have been gathering here, building the Head Quarters fortress so we'd have a place to call home... We are Grey Wardens who refused to die in the Deep Roads, for Blight is life! The song carries us forth!"

"This is more than a little confusing..." Dorian shuddered. "What do we do, Anders?"

While they were talking, several blighted Wardens approached them from the fog. They still looked mostly human, but their skin was completely blighted and their eyes had the same red glow that is often seen in actual darkspawn. Yet they were alive... They stood there, as if waiting for a command.

"This is darkspawn!" Anders proclaimed loudly. "We fight!" He attacked the nearest blighted Warden, and all the others attacked too, it was a fight of Warden against Warden, the worst kind one could imagine.

"You made the wrong choice, Wardens!" The voice shouted angrily. "Your lives end here!"

The battle was nothing short of overwhelming. The blighted Wardens were fewer in number, but they were stronger and more resilient than the living Wardens, easily winning even when outnumbered. Several Ferelden Wardens fell, but the others redoubled their efforts and evened out the odds, yet the losses were felt keenly. The battle was not going well.

"I have to help, I need power!" Anders took out his dagger and rolled up his sleeve.

"No, we need you tomorrow as well as today!" Emmrich quickly snatched his dagger and threw it away. "Leave it to me."

He started incanting a complex spell, with magical energy lighting up the fog around him. He raised his arms and several dead Wardens rose from the ground and joined the fight.

"What?!" Someone noticed what he did. "A necromancer!!!"

But the battle was too hot to consider moral implications of this. Raised Wardens fought well under Emmrich's control and together with the living, they finally defeated the blighted Wardens.

"You raised our fallen comrades!" One of the Wardens flew at Emmrich in anger. "Necromancer!!!"

"Err... yes... I am a necromancer..." Emmrich seemed genuinely surprised. "Of the Mourn Watch in Nevarra... oh... I see... I haven't considered..."

"He meant no disrespect!" Dorian stepped between the angry Warden and Emmrich. "He is Nevarran. It is their tradition. It is considered an honour to reanimate a fallen warrior like that!"

"And we did finally win," Anders joined in. "Without our fallen friends joining us again, that would not have been possible!"

Emotions ran high and it took Dorian and Anders all their persuasive powers to avoid another battle then and there. Eventually the Wardens cooled off.

"You have to promise us that their spirits were not affected!" They demanded.

"Of course they are not affected!" Emmrich rolled his eyes. "Their spirits have already departed! All I've done is reanimate their remains, they are nothing but bodies, flesh, they are no longer your friends! It is a really barbaric tradition to burn perfectly good bodies, they can be reused for..."

"Don't push it," Dorian cut him off. "These Wardens are Ferelden. They cremate their dead. Reanimating dead bodies is considered a desecration in their tradition... in everyone's tradition, except Nevarran, in fact..."

"He must promise to never raise Wardens again!" Someone shouted and everyone joined in.

"Oh alright, I promise!" Emmrich gave in. "But am I allowed to raise fallen darkspawn at least?"

"Darkspawn you can raise," the Wardens agreed. "As long as it's away from us!"

With the tensions thus calmed, it was time to take a closer look at the blighted Wardens that they had defeated. Were they darkspawn or were they really old Wardens twisted and consumed by the Blight? And just how old were they?

Hauk is in Hatmandor, Two Worlds II, this is. One of these days, Lena... I'll play me some Two Worlds.

Whoa, the Captain immediately wants Hauk on a job. That was quick. Medieval life was such a different world, even outside of High Fantasy.

Reesa seems shady. It's like she already knows about this package he's got. Uh oh...

http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=341045

Well, Reesa knows everything. She's got the boss' ear... as well as other parts... She's very... talented. But you'll see. That's one heck of a gal.

Morning Star, 3E411 - Wardens of old

"I can't tell what we're looking at," Anders shook his head, having examined a corpse of a blighted Warden that they just defeated. "He's completely consumed by the Blight. He was human once, he was born a human, he wasn't produced by a broodmother."

"Agreed," Avernus nodded. "He is not first degree darkspawn... But I've never seen humans so badly consumed... Isn't he supposed to be dead?"

"We don't know," Anders said slowly, getting up from the ground. "I treated a lot of blighted people, humans and elves both, even some quanari. They all get so much pain that they either want to die or join Grey Wardens. I haven't seen anyone who chose to live like this..." He sighed. "I have never seen anyone try."

"I can attest to the pain," Avernus smirked. "Although my taint is no where near as advanced as this, or as advanced as the people you are talking about. Yes, yes, I know, I am over three hundred years old... ageing slowed and flesh preserved by magical means... and I hear the song loud and clear, it is really getting on my nerves now. But apart from that... I wonder..." He paused and rubbed his chin. "Walk with me," he said to Anders in a hushed voice.

They walked far enough to be out of earshot of the others, in particularly the other Wardens. What Avernus had to say would have been a shock, and he didn't think they needed to hear it then and there.

"Of course, I am a Grey Warden and not just a blighted person like those you treated," he said. "I had ingested Archdemon's blood during the Joining. I believe that is the key. That is why I am alive. The magic I used to slow down ageing, is nothing special. Just common rejuvenation spells. But I did research into our taint, I made some extracts, some elixirs, I tested a lot of that on myself... The final result was a success, you know of it, Wolf drank it and it gave him powers exactly because he too had Archdemon's blood in him. I was ready to prepare more but no one else wants to drink it... One Joining Cup is enough, they say," he smirked.

"So what you are saying is that these are in fact Grey Wardens," Anders looked at the corpses of the blighted Wardens. "But without your elixirs."

"Yes," Avernus nodded. "If I hadn't been drinking those mixtures all these years, I would have looked like them, I reckon... But I cannot be certain I would have been alive. Grey Wardens are not immortal."

"The Keeper said they drank our blood," Anders suddenly remembered something that didn't make sense. "Grey Warden blood... It's not an elixir of course, but..."

"It could have countered the Blight," Avernus nodded. "I mean, they are blighted beyond recognition, and yet they function, they speak, they act with deliberation... all those things that darkspawn cannot do."

"And they are darkspawn through and through," Anders rubbed his forehead. "I just can't get my head around it. We all sense them - they are darkspawn."

"But what is darkspawn, really?" Avernus squinted. "They are beings with severely tainted blood. It's the same taint as ours, there's just more of it. So what we sense in these blighted Wardens, is the level of their taint. We cannot actually sense whether they are first degree darkspawn or whether they were born human."

"May be we should not have fought them then..." Anders looked uneasy.

"No, we should have," Avernus said firmly. "I agree with your decision. They are darkspawn. Grey Wardens eliminate darkspawn. They are Grey Wardens no longer, they serve the Blight."

"Who is this Keeper, I wonder?" Anders thought of the voice they've heard. "A mage? Seems likely. A mage Grey Warden from the Fourth Blight... And what's with the fully grown griffon? There was something odd about it..."

"Ah, you noticed," Avernus smiled. "Of course we hardly ever see fully grown griffons since we don't keep them in our ranks. Those few hatchlings that we sometimes keep... they are released when they grow up. It's a symbol now rather than an ally."

"Yes, I noticed something odd about that griffon, and I don't mean the fact that it was an adult specimen," Anders returned to the matter at hand. "What do you think that was?"

"It is blighted."

"I didn't want to believe it... but I thought so too," Anders nodded.

"It was blighted deliberately," Avernus added gravely. "Griffons are immune to the taint. They can fight darkspawn, they can eat darkspawn flesh and not become blighted as humans would be. But Archdemon's blood is different... I reckon someone injected Archdemon's blood directly into the griffon's veins..."

"But with what purpose..?" Anders looked baffled.

"To make it stronger," Avernus looked up. "Blighted Wardens are much stronger now than they've been when they were still human. The griffon must be the same."

"We've got to find the Keeper," Anders said decisively. "Try to reason with him... her... I could not tell by the voice..."

"The Keeper might fight us," Avernus looked concerned. "There are likely more blighted Wardens around. Possibly more griffons. And if the Keeper commands them to fight..."

"We'll die here," Anders nodded. "But do you have a better idea?"

"Don't go all at once?" Avernus smiled. "Let me go. I am already old. If I die... I've written down everything worth knowing, my notes are in the tower at Soldier's Peak... you know, that big cupboard behind the desk..."

"Stop that, Avernus!" Anders shook his head vigorously. "We both go. The rest must stay back. I'll tell Dorian."

"Lucanis won't stay behind."

"Lucanis... he must. I promised his grandmother he would survive. This is too dangerous."

"I think you don't know Lucanis very well if you think he'll agree," Avernus grinned.

"Agree to what?" Lucanis caught the end of the phrase as Anders and Avernus rejoined the others.

"Avernus and I will go into this replica Head Quarters Fortress in search of the Keeper. Everyone else, including you, must stay behind. If we don't return within a few hours..."

"Out of the question!" Lucanis and Dorian said in unison. "You are not going alone."

"We must find the Keeper," Anders looked at them in turn. "The Keeper is bound to be very powerful, and there likely to be more blighted Wardens there, we will not be able to defeat them if they choose to fight, not even with Emmrich's necromancy. We will all die there. This cannot be permitted. So... in case the Keeper does not want to talk... Avernus and I will go, and if we die, then only two of us will be dead. The rest of you must return to Alistair and he will carry on. Dorian, you are to lead the party back if we do not return."

"I cannot let you go without me, you know that," Lucanis said softly, taking Anders aside. "You need me. You need Spite."

"I promised your grandmother you would survive. You cannot go," Anders shook his head.

"Caterina... she will understand," Lucanis sighed. "The point is however that with me around we both might survive."

Avernus was right, Lucanis was not going to stay behind. Anders sighed but had to accept the inevitable. He told Dorian everything they discovered and explained why they needed to find the Keeper. The other Wardens didn't insist on learning every detail, most of them already guessed what it was. They were tired after the battle, they grieved their fallen comrades and the Blight song was too loud in their heads... bad news could wait until they were back. And so, Anders, Avernus and Lucanis entered the replica Head Quarters fortress in search of the Keeper.

...

"This is incredible," Anders was wandering through the halls as no one stopped them yet. "This building is exactly like the original... oh look - the dungeons."

"Why do Grey Wardens even need dungeons in their own fortress?" Lucanis was looking into the cells noting that they appeared to have seen some use. "I mean, whom are you locking up?"

"Well, the First Warden wanted to have me locked up..." Anders grinned. "But normally it's just used for those Wardens who are too drunk and rowdy to stay at the dorms... We don't actually take prisoners," he winked.

"You can't have a fortress without a dungeon, and so this one also has it," Avernus dismissed the topic. "I am more interested in why we have so far not been challenged."

"There's movement in the building and I sense darkspawn, so I assume it's more blighted Wardens," Anders nodded. "But they are staying out of sight. Hmm. Let's try the central courtyard."

They walked out onto a large square courtyard completely enclosed by the walls of the fortress. An adult griffon was relaxing in the middle of it, and a strange being was stroking its feathers.

"Welcome, Wardens, I am the Keeper," the being said. Looking closely, they realised that it was a human or an elf completely consumed by the Blight. It was but a skeleton covered in dry and withered skin; it wore a very old and frayed robe that turned into strips from decay. The being's head was crowned in somehing that looked like a support rather than a decorative piece. It seemed to have completely fused with the skull. Yet the being moved with fluidity and ease that were surprising in a skeleton, and its eyes were not just red with the Blight, they were glowing. This being was clearly a mage.

"We fought your Wardens just now, and yet you welcome us again?" Avernus spoke. "Who are you? Who were you, perhaps, before the Blight took over? You are completely consumed!"

"I welcome you because I believe the fight was but a misunderstanding," the Keeper replied. "I am... I was a Grey Warden, like you. I served during the Fourth Blight, my name is Ishala."

"Ishala? The mage? The elven mage in charge of the griffons?" Avernus looked up. "There are records... you were supposed to be dead..."

"As all the other Wardens here," Ishala nodded. "But the Blight gave us life."

"Giving in to the Blight... that's the opposite of what we stand for," Anders said quietly. "What happened?"

"What happened?" Ishala gave a short laugh. "Oh, I believe there are no records of that! Or at least not for everyone's eyes... the archives... you have to search the archives... they are still intact, yes? There are many records there that you have never seen." Ishala turned away from them for a few moments, stroking the feathers of the griffon again. "I had to stay alive. I had to take care of the griffons. It is our fault that they are extinct."

"Not completely, but close," Anders nodded. "We take hatchlings sometimes... then release them when they mature."

"I hid the eggs... then took them to the most remote corners of the Anderfels... I hoped the griffons would survive. It seems they did," she looked at them with an expression that resembled a smile. "During the Fourth Blight... I blighted the griffons."

"What?!" Anders nearly jumped but Avernus kept him back.

"It was an order," Ishala continued. "We were losing to the Blight... We lost many battles, many Wardens, many griffons... The Blight was exceptionally strong... The Archdemon... was invincible..." She shook her head. "Not really invincible of course, but too powerful for the likes of us. And we had griffons! I commend you for having defeated the Fifth Blight without griffons... and with problems, too, I hear..."

"Wolf and Alistair defeated the Blight," Anders nodded, calming down. "Gathered allies from all over Thedas... Just two Wardens..."

"Incredible," Ishala agreed. "But here you see what can be done with determination. And in my time the First Warden gave the order to blight the griffons so as to make them stronger. He did not see another way. I disagreed, I protested, it was so very wrong... But Grey Wardens will do anything and everything in order to defeat the Blight, and everything else we tried up to that point, had failed..." She sighed and shook her head. "And then I obeyed the order. I injected Archdemon blood into the veins of every griffon in our ranks. It helped - we defeated the Blight. And then the troubles began."

"The griffons went mad hearing the song," Avernus said softly. "They turned on the Wardens."

"Yes," Ishala looked at him. "Have you read about this?"

"No, I guessed."

"We had to kill each and every griffon." Ishala turned towards the griffon again, stroking its feathers and it looked at her and put its head under her hand.

"But this griffon..?" Anders was looking into its eyes, seeing the Blight staring back at him.

"I saved some," Ishala said quietly. "Not all of them went mad, the Blight progressed at different rates... I was too late for most of them... but I worked out how to calm them in the end. But of course they could not be released."

"Grey Warden blood?" Avernus too was looking at the griffon. "Counter taint with taint?"

"Exactly," Ishala nodded. "You've done something like that as well, Avernus," she turned to him. "I know of your research. We... have agents."

"Darkspawn?" Anders gave her a long look. "Darkspawn that can talk and reason?"

"But what is darkspawn?" Ishala pinned him with her piercing gaze. "I am darkspawn by your definition. This griffon is darkspawn. My Wardens are darkspawn too. So what of the first degree darkspawn who changed? You met some... are they all that different from you and me?"

"There is a difference," Anders said firmly. "I can feel it in my bones."

"The song has not overwhelmed him yet," Avernus turned to Ishala. "I, on the other hand, am so much closer to it... I hear the Call of the Black City... I hear but I do not obey."

"That is why Wardens are meant to die in the Deep Roads when the song is getting loud," Ishala nodded. "In order to make sure they do not submit to the song. Because blighted Wardens serve the Blight, they are Grey Wardens no longer..."

"You know all this, you understand all this..." Lucanis spoke in a hissing voice and Anders wasn't sure whether it was Lucanis or Spite speaking. "And yet you continue serving the Blight."

"But what is the alternative?" Ishala turned to him. "What will become of my griffons if I were to die?"

No one had an answer to that. Perhaps that question did not have a suitable answer.

"There is a Blight on - the Sixth Blight," Anders suddenly changed the topic. "I expect you know. Two old elven gods have escaped from their prison in the Fade and aim to destroy the world. One of those gods allegedly invented the Blight. We have to kill them."

"Yes, her return is the reason for the rise of this Blight," Ishala nodded. "But she is no longer in charge... She can alter it but she no longer controls it. The Blight is like a disease... it exists all of itself. But you know that, I suppose. You've killed the Archdemons, and you will kill those gods, but the Blight won't stop. Grey Wardens will be needed forever more."

"We will leave you be," Avernus took another look at the resting griffon. "We shall leave and close the Vaults. You will not be disturbed again."

"But I am a Grey Warden still," Ishala said firmly. "Or rather, I still remember what it was like being a Grey Warden. I shall help you. Defeating the Blight is what we do. When these two gods are slain, the Blight will retreat again, it will search for a new leader, a new Archdemon. You have to suppress it this time like every other time before." She looked at them with fiery, glowing eyes. "I know where to find the goddess. But the other one..."

"The other one is connected to Fen'Harel," Spite materialised among them. "Only Fen'Harel knows where he is."

They kept talking for a while longer, discussing strategies to use against the goddess, against the new Blight that rose since she returned. And then Anders, Avernus and Lucanis bid Ishala and her griffon goodbye and left their fortress, leading away the rest of their party. The Grey Warden Vaults would be sealed again, for the artefacts they contained were to be left undisturbed forever more.

"The goddess of the Blight is next," Alistair nodded when they told him what transpired. "Do you want to get the Wardens from the Keep? I'm sure they'll come running, Neve has no say in these matters."

"No, leave them be, I think," Anders shook his head. "Leave them alive. After the goddess, we still have two more elven gods to defeat."

"Two?" Dorian looked up. "Oh..."

"Solas is not walking away from this either," Anders nodded. "The fight is only just beginning."


~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Feb 7 2025, 01:54 AM

Cool, Lena is back with Hauk again. I see, so Hauk was telling a story that whole time, ha ha, guess I missed that!

They're looking for an artefact in the basement of some dwelling. Where are they? Says a friendly inn. Whoa, she's not going in the crack in the wall?? Why not?

"Oh why not?" Hauk agrees.

[censored], that's right, she's carrying. Pregnant. Plus, she spoke to Sithis.

topping up her goblet with the better Tamika wine

Tamika's > Surilies in this fiction, I see. 🍷 Everyone thinks different, right? I once had a character who even preferred Cheap Wine! Anyway, she's getting married to Lucien, as well. Lots of events on the horizon.

"I'll be around for as long as you want me, I am not backing away, but I am not your man

Interesting.

There's no accounting for taste. However, Tamika is better than Surilies also in the game - just check the stats and the price!


She chose Lucien. Therefore Hauk is not her man. Simple male logic.

Morning Star, 3E411 - The goddess

"Ishala said that the goddess made herself a home in the first section of the Deep Roads just to the West of the Vaults," Anders was pointing at a spot on Roderik's map. "It is a large cavern, not unlike the one where they built that replica fortress. The goddess is apparently working on the Blight again."

"Not surprising," Alistair nodded. "She probably has a laboratory and she certainly has a lot of darkspawn."

"Blighted boils, I reckon," Anders nodded.

"Remember what those blighted boils could do to you," Lucanis looked at Anders and Dorian. "They can control mages. Last time all of you were taken to the Fade."

"Last time we were asleep," Emmrich spoke up. "But yes, the danger is clearly present. They may not knock us out immediately, but it will be a bother..."

"We'll need a warrior next to every mage," Anders decided. "Don't stray too far... we're in your hands."

"But what do we do if you get knocked out?" One of the Wardens looked unsure. "How do we stop the influence of the Blight?"

"Err... I don't know," Anders had to admit. "Improvise. Call someone if you're unsure..."

"Who helped you last time?" The Warden squinted.

"Last time..." Anders shot a glance at Lucanis, it was his story and Anders didn't want to be the one telling it.

"Last time I used Spite to go into the Fade to fight the Blight there," Lucanis said somewhat uneasily. "Spite is my... demon."

"Ah." The Warden sighed. "Don't stray too far from the mages then, Demon of Vyrantium, in case we need your help..."

They didn't say it, but everyone understood that "call someone" really meant find Lucanis and have him go into the Fade to rescue the mages again. Which also meant that they could not fully count on their master assassin - Lucanis could not be in two places at once.

"Let's hope the mages will remain conscious this time," Alistair concluded. "We set off tomorrow morning. Until then, we rest."

...

It was still late morning but Alistair wanted his Wardens to be well rested and well prepared. Cooking and eating was on the agenda for the rest of the day, without excessive drinking, to Oghren's disgust. At first people were tense, but after a while they started relaxing, after all, it was not their first campaign, even if going after a goddess would come very close to going after an Archdemon... but this wasn't to be the final battle, and everyone had to try not just to win, but also to survive. "No sacrifices," Alistair made it very clear. "If you are getting overwhelmed, retreat and find another way. We've got two more gods to defeat after this one, and I want all of you alive... Well, as many of you as possible," he sighed.

Anders went to talk to the three old Wardens that were staying at the fortress - Roderik, Markus and Linus. Roderik was the only one who could still walk.

"It won't be easy but I want you to bring the head of that goddess back here, I want to see her face!" Markus sat up on his cot. "It is her fault that I can't walk! I got this wound when she came crushing onto this very fortress!"

"She's got an ugly face, I've seen her last time," Linus smirked. "Tentacles growing out of her body. She is no longer a woman, no longer an elf."

"Be careful though... but I don't need to tell you, you were there," Roderik gave Anders a long look. "She is not to be taken lightly."

"Oh, we are not taking her lightly," Anders nodded. "It will be a massacre... which is why Alistair's been drilling into everyone that they must try to survive."

They were talking about the upcoming battle and about the one that raged in their Head Quarters a few months ago, and after a while the three old Wardens started slipping into their native Anderfels tongue, and somehow Anders kept up, without even realising it...

"You no longer speak Ander, do you?" Roderik switched back to the common tongue. "But you seem to understand us alright."

"I was taken to Ferelden when I was but seven," Anders shook his head. "I remember some words... but speaking... no... I've lost it, I fear."

"A few months among your people and it'll come back to you," Markus smiled. "When the Blight is done..."

"Don't bother with Hossberg," Linus interrupted. "It's a city for the rich, no different to any other. Kassel is better... or else try Tallo or Laysh."

"The ports!" Roderik laughed. "If you want to get to know the Anderfels, go inland! Leave the ports to the sailors!"

"You're only saying that because you're from Nordbotten," Linus shook his head, also laughing. "And here you have it, Anders... just travel the land... where it's not too blighted." He looked up watching Lucanis enter the room with a heavily laden tray. "Take your Crow with you... it'll be an adventure."

"Ah, the man who can cook!" Markus looked over the tray enthusiastically. "You made the right choice, Anders!" He added, tucking in.

"I wasn't the only one cooking today," Lucanis smiled. "I picked a bit of everything here for you, seeing how you can't easily get down to the kitchen..."

"Easily..." Linus smirked. "Nicely put..." He picked a few pieces and started eating, then suddenly went pale and fell back onto his cot. Anders was at his side in one jump, dagger in his hand, wrist extended. Before anyone realised what was happening, a cloud of shimmering mist descended upon Linus and entered his body. A few moments later Linus sat up. "You didn't have to do that, don't waste your blood on me, I haven't got long to live," he said quietly. "But thank you."

"I know... a few days, perhaps..." Anders sighed. "This isn't a cure but it will help with the pain."

"What was that?" Markus asked. "I've never seen healing magic like that..."

Anders shifted uncomfortably and looked away, so Linus answered for him.

"He summoned a spirit for me," he smiled. "Compassion, I think... it's soothing."

"Blood magic..." Markus shook his head.

"Blood magic is but a tool," Linus objected. "It's what you use it for that matters."

While Markus were debating the moral rights and wrongs of using blood magic for healing, Lucanis sat next to Anders and put his arm around his shoulders.

"That wasn't just another spell," he said softly. "You are shaking."

"I had to be quick," Anders replied just as softly. "It was..."

"Intense," Lucanis pulled him close. "But I've got you. It's like a tango."

"Antivans..." Linus was watching them. "It's been so long since I heard those words..."

He said it very quietly, probably to himself, but Lucanis looked up.

"Another Crow? I noticed you watching me," he smiled.

"Your gait is unmistakable... it's your training, I expect," Linus nodded. "It brings back memories... my friend was killed many years ago... by another Crow..."

"It's a plague, yes," Lucanis nodded. "Faction feud. My parents were killed that way. My cousin's parents too. And yet the House did not fall."

"I wondered why my friend was killed... I blamed myself - he joined me for a time, and I thought the Crows killed him because he stopped taking contracts... I should have sent him away, but..." Linus shook his head slowly.

"No, Antivan Crows do not kill their members just because they take a holiday," Lucanis said firmly. "His death was not your fault."

...

The following morning a fairly large party was seen marching from the Grey Wardens Head Quarters towards one of the Deep Roads entrances. It consisted of a dozen Ferelden Wardens led by Alistair, accompanied by Avernus, Anders, Lucanis, Dorian and Emmrich. Alistair tried to convince Avernus to stay behind, but he was having none of it - he was by far the most powerful mage among them and he was not going to sit back with the wounded. Alistair tried to object that he was also by far the oldest person in the group but gave up when Avernus threatened to turn him into a toad. It was a joke of course, but it did end the discussion. Avernus was going into battle, and that was that.

Such a formidable group had no difficulty dispatching stray darkspawn blocking their way; they also didn't have much trouble with blighted boils inside the cavern, not giving them any chance to use their magic on the mages. The progress thus far was steady, but they were not in a rush - Anders made sure that all wounds were treated as soon as possible. Some Wardens were getting impatient and Lucanis recalled his own annoyance with Anders for the same reason, but it was only this diligence that got them through the more difficult campaigns. They all knew that of course, they all knew that the real fight had not yet begun, and so they all dutifully treated their wounds at every stop.

"You wouldn't say that, but Anders can be extremely persuasive," one Warden was telling another while bandaging his cuts. "This is nothing, just a flesh wound... but no, I've got to bandage it or he won't leave me alone," he smirked.

"Anders doesn't look like a bully, but I would never cross a blood mage," the other Warden replied. "Have you seen him angry? You will today... darkspawn gets him angry. He's not a mage to cross..."

Finally they reached a large cavern that looked like a Blight goddess might reside there - blighted boils were everywhere, and they were huge, flailing their tentacles around, making it impossible to walk anywhere. And then, as soon as the Wardens started cutting off the tentacles, darkspawn appeared.

"What the..." one of the Wardens gasped. "I've never seen darkspawn like that! They are like walking blighted boils!!!"

Indeed, instead of the usual genlocks and hurlocks, these darkspawn resembled bloated bodies of drowners, covered in smaller blighted boils... Some even had a blighted boil instead of a head. These creatures were not particularly hard to kill, but therein lay the danger: they exploded spraying their poisonous blood over a large radius, and that poison was sufficiently potent to kill a healthy man within just a few minutes unless an antidote was administered immediately.

"We have no antidotes for this poison," Anders shook his head when Avernus pointed it out. "But there are other ways," he grinned. "This is your teaching! Quick!" A particularly large darkspawn exploded a short distance away, covering several Wardens in poison. Anders rushed to them starting his usual healing wave on the way, but then he did something different: he slit his wrist but did not cast a spell - instead he sprayed his blood over the Wardens, a trick that he learned from Wolf who used to spray his blood over the enemy. Anders' blood fell on darkspawn blood, canceling it out, and now Anders also cast a spell. "You'll be alright now, but be careful... I may not always be at hand," he smiled at the stunned expressions on their faces.

"What did I tell you?" One Warden nudged the other. "And he wasn't even angry!"

"You drank my mixture," Avernus laughed when Anders rejoined him working up a storm for another group of blighted boils. "I wondered what happened to that extra vial!"

"I saw what it did to Wolf, and I wanted the same," Anders grinned. "Of course, it isn't the same because I'm a mage and he's not, but the effect is well worth it."

"I'll have to examine you when we're back at Soldier's Peak," Avernus was making mental notes, never stopping shooting lighting over the entire cavern.

"If we get to return to Soldier's Peak..." Anders' voice fell. "Here comes the goddess."

They were undoubtedly in the right cavern. The creature that appeared before them could no longer be called a woman or an elf. Medusa would probably be the nearest description. Her once elven body had huge tentacles growing from almost everywhere, and she had smaller tentacles on her head instead of hair. She wore a solid mask covering her face, and Anders thought it was just as well, she probably didn't have a face any longer. She wore a garment that was once a robe but that had now frayed and split into strips that were moving with the tentacles as she moved. She still had arms, it seemed, for she only used two limbs to cast spells. She probably still had legs, but instead she walked on tentacles and it looked as if she hovered.

"You are destroying my creation!" She cried with a clear voice, perhaps the only thing about her that was still elven. "You killed my dragon!" She sounded angry. "You seek to kill me as well, it seems! How very foolish!" She laughed an angry laugh and a large fireball started gathering before her.

"Take cover!!!" Anders shouted and everyone tried to find cover, wondering how futile it was.

The goddess cast her spell and the whole cavern was incinerated. No one had seen such power before.

"Are we dead?" One Warden asked another.

"You're asking me?" The other shook his head. "I dunno... but I think not. The others are also stirring."

Indeed, after the initial shock, the Wardens and the mages carefully got up and moved to the next line of dead blighted boils that they used for cover - cover that actually worked. No one was certain for how long, but having survived the first fireball, they were determined to survive the next one as well. Their strategy was to surround the goddess and to go about cutting off her tentacles that were feeding off the Blight on the ground - Ishala had told them that, that was a way to deprive the goddess of her power and then eventually kill her. It was going to be a lengthy battle, they had to be careful... but at the same time they had to advance.

"We need to draw her attention," Anders got out his dagger. "We cast a blizzard... err... can I power a blizzard with blood? Never tried it before... We cast a blizzard together, Avernus, and let's hope it'll douse her fire for a time..."

"You can power anything at all with blood," Avernus nodded, joining in the casting.

Their blizzard swept the cavern, freezing some of the goddesses tentacles solid and certainly getting her attention. While she searched for the pesky mages who spoiled her hairdo, the Wardens got her surrounded and started chopping off whatever they could reach. With the lowest tentacles damaged, the goddess dropped to the ground. Yes, she still had legs.

"Insolent mages!!" She bellowed. "You don't even know what magic is!"

"Take cover!!!" Anders shouted again, seeing a lighting orb gathering strength in the goddess' hands. He wasn't sure cover would help against lightning, but he had to try.

A massive storm engulfed the cavern, lightning was shooting from everywhere, or so it seemed... but by luck or by miracle, it was hitting blighted boils instead of the Wardens... and no one was seriously hurt. Somewhat dazed, the Wardens got up and continued their assault.

...

They cut off a lot of tentacles but the goddess was showing no sign of weakening. She cast another spell and grew in size, now towering over all of them, shooting spells from above. Anders tried to tell everyone that it was only an illusion, that she wasn't really that tall, but everyone was too busy fighting to actually listen.

"We must get to her head," Lucanis stopped attacking tentacles and found Anders. "Otherwise it will take too long. She is weakening, but only a little. It will take us days to wear her down..."

"And we will be worn down ourselves by then," Anders nodded. "But... how to get to her head? Now that she's that tall?"

"Is she or is she not actually that tall?" Lucanis squinted. "Because if I am going to stab her in the eye, I need to know where that eye is."

"You cannot be sure," Emmrich stood nearby and overheard their conversation. "It could be an illusion, that's what we would do, but she's an ancient elf - they had different magics. She could have physically enlarged her body by dispersing the matter--"

"Never mind how she did it," Lucanis cut him off. "But does this mean that her eye is actually where I see it?"

"Yes, it does," Emmrich smiled. "But mind the mask."

"Cast me a blizzard," Lucanis looked at the mages. "It's better if the target isn't moving around too much."

This time three mages were casting a blizzard together, and it had the desired effect - the cavern froze over and the goddess found herself rooted to the spot, at least for a short time. Lucanis leapt, his spirit wings carried him up, straight to the goddess' head. He thrust his sword into an eye opening of the mask, hoping he would hit something worth hitting. A sharp scream told him that he did. The goddess shook off her stiffness and threw him off, flinging him away with incredible force. Her illusion magic was dispelled and she shrank to her normal size, and although her tentacles were still deadly and she could still cast powerful spells, the Wardens charged at her all at once and with the help of the mages they finally overwhelmed her. It wasn't Lucanis who dealt the killing blow and in all honesty it was impossible to tell which of the myriad of cuts was the one that finally got her. She stopped moving, her tentacles lay limp. A shimmering orb rose from her body, hovered over the cavern and disappeared in a tunnel leading into the earth.

...

That victory was hard won. Several Wardens were dead and all were injured, mages were exhausted and wounded and Lucanis was unconscious from his fall. Anders insisted on a short rest before going back and proceeded converting his blood into healing magic for everyone else... until Alistair finally stopped him.

"You need strength to walk back, I don't want to carry you," he said, taking away Anders' dagger. "No more bloodletting. It's an order, Warden." He looked stern, and Anders realised that Alistair never really gave orders, never pulled rank or even referred to anyone as "Warden".

"Yes, Commander," Anders nodded and smiled. "Let's go home."

Morning Star, 3E411 - Concussion

Lucanis had a concussion. When the goddess flung him away with great force, he hit the ground hard and passed out. He remained unconscious for the rest of the battle and even for some of the way back to the Grey Wardens Head Quarters. He came to at some point along the way, but the rocking of the stretcher made him dizzy and unwell and he lost consciousness again. By the time they arrived at the fortress, he was awake but couldn't even sit up.

"At least I am alive," he was saying with difficulty, his voice slurring. "Stop fussing over me." He tried shaking his head but quickly realised that it was a bad idea. Anders was right - he should lie still and allow his body to heal. Of course Anders wasn't going to leave him without help, and so fussing continued.

Lucanis wasn't the only person in need of healing, however. Every Warden and every mage that went to fight the goddess and that weren't dead, were injured one way or the other. Most injuries were magical, caused by fire and shock spells, but necrosis was also common, induced by some new fast acting blight magic. It wasn't the usual blight, it was like black rot eating at the flesh, and those black spots were spreading quickly. Anders was using his blood to counter the necrosis, not through blood magic but directly, by applying his blood onto the wound. The Wardens were very suspicious of this technique at first, but soon became convinced in its efficacy and allowed Anders to proceed... after all, they didn't have much choice. Avernus was watching it very closely, it was thanks to his mixture that Anders had drank years ago, that his taint was now able to counter the Blight itself.

"We should be able to use my blood as well," he said after another application. "Your wrists are getting very scarred," he added with concern. "Only my blood is so much more tainted than yours because I'm older... it will need to be tested to make sure it's safe."

"What would be the consequence if it is unsafe?" Anders straightened up. "We must not make things worse!"

"I don't know what the consequence would be," Avernus sighed. "This is uncharted territory. I only meant the mixture as a weapon, but you are using it for healing, and this new blight is nothing like what we've seen before... Someone will have to take a risk and try my blood instead of yours."

"I am not sacrificing any of my patients!" Anders cried a little too loudly and several heads turned. "Ugh, I didn't mean to announce it like that," he cleared his throat. "But it still stands: no testing. I have enough blood for everyone."

"And that's my point," Avernus looked stern. "I don't think you do." He paused, watching Anders glare at him. Then he asked with a smile: "Tell me, how did you first discover that your blood could be used for healing? It wasn't the intended effect and I didn't tell Wolf anything about it because I didn't know it myself."

"Well... when those blighted boils started exploding... I had to do something," Anders said with unease. "I used my blood against darkspawn before - spraying them with it, like Wolf did. It harmed darkspawn, so I figured it would counter the poison in blighted blood... yes, yes, alright, I see where you are going: the first Wardens I sprayed with my blood were my test subjects. But it isn't the same! Wardens got my blood on them before and no one suffered any ill effects, so I knew it would not harm them! I just didn't know whether it would help... but it did."

"And someone will have to try my blood instead of yours because you are running out," Avernus said quite firmly. Then, turning to the wounded Wardens on the cots around them, he called to them: "You've heard what we were just discussing. Someone will need to be the first to try my blood instead of that of Anders. I think it is safe, but I could be wrong."

"I'll do it," one of the Wardens spoke up. His whole leg was covered in necrosis. "I got it real bad. I reckon I'll either die or you'll have to amputate the leg, and quickly - I need to keep my groin intact for... reasons," he grinned. "So go on. It can't get any worse."

His joke lifted the mood and everyone laughed, even in the middle of all the blood, burns and necrosis. Avernus took out his dagger and slit his wrist, and a spray of very dark blood fell on the Warden's leg.

"Wow, your taint is really deep," the Warden whistled. "How can you stand the song?" He looked at Avernus with new-found respect.

"With difficulty," Avernus shook his head. "I keep busy. Now, let's see. How do you feel?"

"Alive," the Warden grinned. "Better. I think the stronger taint actually helps... and look - the black rot is retreating!" The blackness on his leg was indeed retreating slightly. Avernus wasn't holding out any hope of actually clearing it but at least it seemed to stop spreading. The leg would have to be amputated anyway, but it was no longer urgent. The test was a success.

"So, you will now leave these patients to me," Avernus pulled down the sleeve on Anders' arm. "No more bloodletting for several hours at least - you must regenerate. Go see to the other patients, the ones that just need herbs and potions and traditional healing." He nodded to himself and turned to the patients. Anders stood aghast - this was the first time that Avernus took charge of a situation, and his authority was unquestionable.

"Good to have you finally completely with us, Master Avernus," he said quietly but distinctly and several Wardens nodded.

"Yes, yes, I've been hiding behind my research long enough," Avernus brushed him off, examining the next patient. "Go on. We both have work to do. Celebrations will have to wait."

...

Lucanis was having very strange dreams. His concussion was making him dizzy and he thought that sleep would be his best medicine, and so he tried to sleep rather than just pass out. But his dreams had him wake up in cold sweat which was hardly restful and not just a little embarrassing. Master assassin was afraid of something in his dream, and the worst part of it was that he could not remember what it was once he woke up, although the feeling of fear and almost panic lingered for a time.

He didn't know how much time passed since they arrived at the Head Quarters; it could have been a few hours or a few days, but this time Lucanis could sit up on his cot without immediately falling back because the world was spinning around him. Of course, the world was perfectly stable, it was his concussion making it seem that the world was spinning... he knew that, but it didn't help.

Lucanis sat up and looked around. He was in the infirmary wing, or rather a part of the dormitory filled with wounded Wardens. Several healers were walking from cot to cot, looking tired. He noticed Avernus in the far corner slitting his wrist. Anders seemed to be in the next room, he thought he heard his voice. What about Dorian and Emmrich? They both had more burns and scrapes than they were used to, he was sure. Perhaps they were next door...

He decided to get up and go see for himself. He felt a little hungry too, which he took to be a good sign - his concussion must be healing. He stood up, then took a few steps, holding onto furniture. The world was still rocking around him but it was no longer spinning out of control. One of the healers shot him a glance but he must have looked stable enough because the healer turned back to his patient. Lucanis walked to the doorway and looked into the next room. Anders wasn't there, it was just another room filled with cots with wounded Wardens. Perhaps Anders was taking a break... nah... Lucanis smirked to himself. No way. He'd be healing someone, slitting his wrists until he passed out... perhaps he did pass out... at least this was not Kirkwall, someone would help, of that Lucanis was sure.

The next room down the corridor was the one where the old Wardens were staying - Roderik, Markus and Linus. It had more cots now, most of them occupied by other wounded Wardens. He looked in, holding onto the door frame. There was Anders changing bandages on one of the Wardens... "Ugh, that rotten flesh looks bad..." Lucanis noticed himself thinking, as if he was outside of his mind somehow. Perhaps his concussion wasn't healed yet after all. Sharp smell of burned flesh briefly filled the room - Anders was carterising the wound... That smell made Lucanis twitch and gag, it hit a nerve, it was strange, he was never that sensitive to smells of the flesh before, not in his line of work... Then, as the sweet scent of fresh blood reached him, he felt dizzy and the world started spinning again... he was holding onto the door frame but the nearest cot was too far, even though it was just a few steps away... he would collapse then and there...

"You should be in bed, you are not ready to walk yet," he heard a familiar voice somewhere in the fog. He didn't fall, someone was holding him close, someone smelling of burnt flesh and fresh blood... "I've got you. Let's get you to bed."

...

Lucanis slept badly, strange dreams were tormenting him, he kept waking up in cold sweat, not able to remember what it was that terrified him so much. Not being able to remember made him angry. If only he could remember, he would deal with it, dissect the dream, apply logic to it, show to himself that it was all nonsense, nothing to worry about... and after that the dream would not return. But by making him forget it, the dream kept eluding him and kept tormenting him again and again.

He woke up again and saw himself on a cot in the room with the old Wardens where he collapsed. Whoever helped him, must have put him on one of the empty cots there. The smell of burnt flesh was long gone, the smell of blood too, now he could only smell herbs and infusions, besides the bodily scents of half a dozen people sharing one room...

Lucanis decided to try getting up. Surely, his concussion must have healed some more, the world didn't seem to be spinning. He sat up, then got up from the cot, making sure to hold onto something, just in case.

"It's still too early," Anders stood behind him, now smelling of infusions. "You'll get dizzy again. You're impatient," he smiled, putting his arm around Lucanis.

"I... couldn't sleep," Lucanis found his voice. It still hissed and slurred a little but was better than before.

"Nightmares?" Anders looked concerned. "I saw you thrashing a few times. The Fade can be very disturbing."

"The Fade?" Lucanis faced him. "Those are just dreams..."

"We go to the Fade when we dream," Anders nodded. "Well, not physically, but our spirits go to the Fade. Mages realise it, non-mages don't, yet it's the same for all of us. The Fade... well, you know. You've been there yourself."

"That was different," Lucanis shook his head and regretted it. "When I went to fight... I remembered everything. But these dreams... they are just slipping away."

"That's the usual way, yes..." Anders got a better hold of Lucanis and tried to nudge him towards his cot. "And still you should return to bed."

Lucanis was going to protest that he would rather walk around a little, he jerked his head and it gave him a sharp pang of headache that felt like an explosion inside his head and he blacked out, if only momentarily. He should have collapsed but again someone was holding him close.

"I've got you," Anders said in his ear. "Can you hear me? Yes? I am here."

"I met Mathilda in the Fade," Lucanis suddenly remembered all of his dreams. "Mathilda of twenty five years ago, just as I remember her... and I was a young man as well. We spent time together... I never stopped loving her... But it was she, Mathilda, not a memory of Mathilda, you understand? She was there... I know, I touched her... I kissed her... we made love... in her old room where she used to live when we were young... I didn't want it to stop..."

"How did you get out of the Fade?" Anders asked in a whisper.

"My heart was bleeding... too much pain... It was Mathilda and we were twenty years old... But I am not twenty years old any longer, something kept reminding me of that. Like a knife through the heart... My Mathilda could not be real... Then I'd wake up in cold sweat." Lucanis looked Anders in the eye and saw that Anders was very serious. This was not just a dream. "I could not remember the dream until just now," he continued. "I would fall asleep and Mathilda would be there. Everything would repeat. Too much pain in my heart, and I wake up again. But every time she is more beautiful than before, every time she tries harder to please me, to keep me there, and I am willing, oh so willing, I don't ever want it to stop... I love her still..."

"It isn't just a dream," Anders said gravely. "You met a Desire Demon. The demon took the shape of Mathilda, it is quite real. The demon aims to please, it will make you happy and you will stay in the Fade forever."

"But why?"

"The demon will devour your soul."

"That's... terrifying." Lucanis suddenly felt the terror that made him wake up from his dreams. "I thought only mages could be possessed by demons like that."

"You are not possessed, and no, not only mages," Anders sighed. "Demons really don't care whose soul they devour, but mages are easier to find. Mages face demons all the time, we have to learn to resist them or to avoid them if we can. Some mages cannot overcome the terror though... some indeed ask to be made tranquil - that severs the connection to the Fade. That too can be done to anyone, not just mages. It's just..."

"I get it, mages light up in the Fade, attract demons... and I guess I light up now too..." Lucanis smirked. "How do you stand it?"

"Don't give in."

"I shall never go to sleep again," Lucanis said with determination.

"It's not that bad... you'll learn to avoid them," Anders nudged him towards his cot again. "It's not like you've got an Archdemon singing you lullabies..."

"Good grief..!"

"It can always be worse, right?" Anders smirked. "So, go back to sleep. You are not alone in the Fade. Where did the pain come from? Who made you wake up? It wasn't you, you wanted to stay, so who was it?"

"I have to go back to find out."

"You already know the answer."

"Can you defeat a demon in the Fade? In your dream?" Lucanis looked resolved.

"Yes, you can," Anders said slowly. "But you can also lose the battle and die. Be careful. Nothing is as it seems in the Fade."