I am Lena Wolf, Lena's life as it happens Options

[macole]

A tango, dance magic at its finest. Thanks for including the Amália Rodrigues link.

[Lena Wolf]

Morning Star, 3E411 - Loose ends

"So, you can smile after all, Lucanis!" Harding exclaimed in mock surprise at breakfast.

"Of course I can smile, what are you talking about?" Lucanis scowled.

"I'm just saying..." Harding winked and giggled.

"Nice to see you putting my tutoring to good use," Dorian smiled at Anders. "If you want any more lessons..."

"Oh cut it out, will you?!" Anders glared at them, helping himself to jam.

"They won't if you two keep giving them cause," Emmrich smiled pleasantly. "In a house with this many servants any juicy stories travel fast, complete and in every detail."

"What detail?!" Lucanis exclaimed indignantly. "We aren't doing it when servants are present!"

"There are keyholes, my friend," Emmrich winked. "Augmented by vivid imagination."

"One look at you, Kadash, and I start imagining all sorts of juicy details," Taash laughed, looking at Anders. "Of course, I don't need to imagine them. Memory serves. Do let me know when you want seconds!"

"Did you sleep with everyone here?!" Lucanis glared at him.

"No, not everyone..." Anders shook his head as vigorously as he dared (just how much did he drink last night?).

"Not everyone, but not for the lack of trying," Harding smirked. "He isn't a shrinking violet, if you get my meaning!" She grinned at Lucanis.

"I think he might have noticed any shrinkage," Bellara suddenly joined in. "I know I didn't."

"Bellara???" Lucanis looked genuinely surprised. "Really?"

"What?" Anders shrugged. "We were bored..."

"You better not let him get bored," Davrin delivered his verdict, shooting a glance at Lucanis. "Grey Wardens don't have a good track record when they are bored. Have you tried his Conscription Ale yet?"

"A what???" Lucanis put down his toast and focused on coffee.

"It's a personal liqueur, every Warden has his own bottle," Davrin explained. "A blend of whatever. I hear Anders made his extra strong before coming here."

"Don't touch it if you value your liver!" Varric grimaced remembering his own experience. "How Wardens can stand such stuff, I shall never know! It's like drinking sodding flames!"

"Nothing burns like the Joining Cup!" Anders and Davrin replied in unison and laughed.

All in all, it was a beautiful morning.

...

"Do you need us any time soon, Kadash?" Taash asked Anders when breakfast was over. She had her arm around Harding who was about half of Taash's height.

"Need for what?" Anders looked puzzled. "Oh, fighting... probably not... why?"

"I want to take Harding dragon hunting," Taash grinned. "My axes and her bow... no dragon will be safe from us! Emmrich tells me there are still some good ones in Nevarra..."

"There used to be some good ones in Nevarra until they were all hunted to extinction three hundred years ago..." Emmrich rolled his eyes. "You know that."

"I know," Taash smiled. "But may be we'll find something else to do, should we get bored..."

"Speaking of travels, I'd like to look in on those young griffins, and Azzan wants to stretch his wings," Davrin joined in. "He's fed up with the rat diet in Minrathous," he scowled. "And since you just killed Zara, I figured..."

"Yeah, go on, why not," Anders smiled at them. "It's not like we have any leads right now. Come back though, we're not done yet."

Most people left the breakfast room but Anders and Lucanis were still sipping their coffee.

"We should return to Treviso," Lucanis said after a pause. "Illario has to be dealt with."

"What do you want to do with him?" Anders looked up.

"I cannot kill him, he is like a brother to me..." Lucanis sighed. "No matter what he'd done..."

"He is the reason you now have Spite," Anders gave him a long look.

"I know... and yet..."

"Then let's go and see... Caterina is waiting."

"I have accepted Spite," Lucanis said quietly. "I shall live as an abomination."

"I knew it when I saw your wings," Anders nodded. "You aren't... well... it isn't black and white. I knew a lady who had the Spirit of Faith in her, the same as you. It happens."

"It happened to you as well," Lucanis shot him a glance. "But you wanted Justice out."

"We weren't a very good match..." Anders sighed. "Justice was so forceful, so forthright... so righteous... and I..."

"And you like to walk the edge," Lucanis nodded. "Not just close, but right on top."

"One day it'll get me killed," Anders smirked.

"Not while you are with me," Lucanis smiled. "I really don't care who else you slept with. Let them talk."

"Caterina won't approve," Anders suddenly remembered her face.

"Caterina might surprise you," Lucanis smiled. "Besides, I am no longer a little boy in need of approval."

"Yet you won't punish Illario."

"And you have another cat. Again."

It was true. A tabby kitten found its way into Anders' things. There always seemed to be one around, wherever Anders went. The Wardens had long given up trying to get rid of them.

"Other Wardens have griffins or Mabari hounds, and that's permitted," Anders scowled. "I don't see why I cannot have a cat."

"Because it's soft and fluffy and makes you soft too?" Lucanis repeated the argument that Anders once told him about.

"Ah, you remembered," Anders smiled. "Yeah... oh well."

...

They took the portal to Treviso and stood in Lucanis' family villa a few hours later. The house was silent, there didn't seem to be any Venatori about. They went looking for Caterina, eventually finding her pushing chairs back against the walls in the theatre.

"Caterina, what are you doing?!" Lucanis ran up to her. "All this work... surely, servants can move furniture for you!"

"I am not dead yet and I can do it myself," she answered defiantly. "Luca... you've returned." She put down the chair and squeezed him in an embrace. "I was worried."

"Zara is dead," Lucanis said when she finally released him. "I suppose you know."

"Illario told me, yes," she nodded.

"Where is he?" Lucanis tensed.

"Scrubbing the pool," Caterina grinned. "With a toothbrush."

"That's cruel," Lucanis wrinkled his nose. "Just like when we were kids."

"I did much worse things to you when you were kids," Caterina sighed. "But after both of your parents were killed... all I had left were my two grandsons... I was cruel, I know. The punishment for failing in your training was too harsh. But you are still alive, despite..." She shook her head, regret burning her face.

"It was cruel and I resented you for it," Lucanis nodded. "Illario didn't get punished nearly as much."

"Illario didn't get into trouble nearly as much," Caterina objected. "You were always out, always exploring, pockets full of pebbles, spiders, scorpions even! You neglected your training too much."

"I... tried other things," Lucanis smiled.

"And that is why you are still alive, despite it all," Caterina smiled and hugged him again. "I know what happened, what you have become..." She shot a glance at Anders. "I know that he knows how it is. My Luca... an abomination..." She sighed and shook her head.

"Well, I cannot lead the Crows now," Lucanis said evenly. "Illario will have to do it, to keep it in the family."

"Illario will NOT lead the Crows!" Caterina cried in indignation. "Not after what he'd done." She turned around and paced the room. "No, I cannot permit it. You could lead the Crows of course, but I know you don't want it. We'll give it away. We have cousins. The Crows always change hands, perhaps it is time..."

"Then... I can leave?" Lucanis sounded surprised, hardly believing what he was hearing. "Not leave the Crows, but may be go away for a while..?"

"You want to spend time with your friend," Caterina smiled and frowned at once. "I am not blind, I see what is going on! You never married... In just a few years Mathilde will be too old to have children - you can marry her then, she is still waiting... You could have had a life together! But no, you did not want a family with the Crows..." She shook her head with scorn. "Do you love her still?" She faced Lucanis who looked gaunt, his eyes burning with fever. "I thought as much. That is why you now chose a man. No woman could replace Mathilde." She paused, watching Lucanis. "I too was young once... But the tango is not just for the young."

She walked over to Anders and faced him, he felt her gaze penetrating every secret he ever had.

"Keep him safe, blood mage," she said gravely. "A Grey Warden, you will next go after the Blight... and my Luca will come with you. Do not get him blighted or worse... He is a Crow, not a Grey Warden!" She said with emphasis. "Conscription Rite be damned..." She shook her head and looked away. "But then again, if you Wardens don't stop this Blight... nothing will matter anyway..."

"There is no one in Thedas I care for more," Anders said softly. "But it is as you say - we go after the Blight."

"Come back and see us from time to time," she smiled, putting her hand on his cheek. "Anders... This is the second assassin you Wardens 'borrow' from the Crows, and the first one is yet to return!"

"Zevran? But his life was forfeit..."

"At first," Caterina nodded. "But after that Blight he and his Warden returned and, well, they were very persuasive!" She gave a short laugh. "Zevran is wanted back! But he won't return for as long as his Warden lives... Will you not follow him as well? He left but you stayed behind..."

"I had to face life on my own," Anders smiled.

"With a hole through your heart?" Caterina looked him in the eye. "Aye, life is like a tango."

With Caterina back in control of the Crows, business at the villa was concluded. Yet, when Lucanis turned to leave, Caterina called him back.

"One more thing, Luca," she handed him a note. "Neve Gallus is here, with a plight to annul the contract on her life. Now that Zara is dead, it is permitted. Have you made up your mind yet?"

"Neve is a traitor," Lucanis paled. "Her runes were all over that pool in Zara's mansion."

"But she claims to have set them up before she realised what Zara was doing at her underwater prison." Caterina paused, watching Lucanis. "Before she started implanting demons into people... before you were captured."

"It isn't about me!" Lucanis cried, anger rising in him. "It isn't even about Zara! Neve had a chance to prove her loyalty, to tell us how to find Zara. Yet she flatly refused every time, leading us on a goose chase. She knew about that mansion since her runes were all over the pool!" He glared.

"And so she didn't betray Zara," Caterina shook her head. "Even despite the contract on her life. But she also did not betray you to Zara, even though that was the very reason the contract was enacted. All she had to do was bring you in..."

"But instead we had to walk into that trap on our own in order to find Zara," Lucanis scowled.

"It was your choice to bait her," Caterina objected. "You and Anders are walking too close to the edge..."

"The edge is where the action is, grandmother," Lucanis dismissed the argument, his face set. "The contract stands. Unless you order me to annul it... you are in charge."

"This one is up to you," she smiled. "But if you wait too long, she may turn against you."

"Zara may be dead, but her work is still there," Lucanis shook his head. "Someone else will pick it up and carry on. We need to know when that happens. With Neve in limbo, we'll hear about it. She is bait, Caterina."

"It's a dangerous game you're playing," she sighed. "But that's who you are. Be careful of this one scorpion in your pocket - she will sting you."

"And then she will die," Lucanis smiled. "She has until she betrays us."

"I see." Caterina shook her head and sighed. "Go now, I'll handle the rest. Enjoy Treviso for a while... Grey Wardens gather in the Anderfels, I expect you will soon be off. But there's still time for another tango, Antivan style."

She hugged Lucanis again, and then hugged Anders, quite unexpectedly, and without a word. They said their goodbyes and stepped out into an early evening in Treviso. Music was heard in the distance, coffee aroma was floating in the air. There was still time to relax, Antivan style.

[Lena Wolf]

Morning Star, 3E411 - An evening in Treviso

"Coffee?" Lucanis' answer to everything was coffee. "I need to get my head around of what just happened."

"Yeah, that was... unexpected," Anders nodded. From all possible Caterina's reactions to Lucanis' refusal to lead the Crows, acceptance was among the impossible. And yet, she must have decided it already a while back - she would hand over the Crows to some cousins instead of her favourite grandson. But Lucanis didn't want it and Illario was out of the question after all his treason... and Caterina chose to pass the Crows on so that Lucanis could join Anders in the fight against the Blight... "He is a Crow, not a Grey Warden!" That was all she said... Lucanis was not to be conscripted, but other than that... "It is the second assassin that Grey Wardens 'borrow' from the Crows!" Oh yes, Zevran was the first.

Caterina was in no rush to step down though. She would lead the Crows for a while yet, but Lucanis was no longer expected to eventually take over. That meant the world to him.

Treviso was descending into the evening, and Lucanis picked up the pace going straight to his favourite cafe. It seemed the whole city was out and about. The cafe was packed, but someone waved from a back table.

"Viago and Teia!" Lucanis pointed out his friends. "Let's see what they've heard already!"

"Congratulations!" Viago shook Lucanis' hand eagerly, all smiles, with Teia seconding him.

"Thanks, but what exactly have you heard?" Lucanis grinned, thinking they only knew half of the story.

"Why, Zara is dead, of course!" Viago gave him a broad grin. "It's the talk of the town! Well, among the Crows, at least. And Illario's role has not gone unnoticed," he frowned. "Caterina is back, and it won't be long before you're the head of the Crows!"

"Right on the first point, wrong on the last," Lucanis was savouring the pleasure of surprising him. "Caterina will pass the Crows onto some cousins. I will not take over."

"Oh! That is indeed a surprise!" Viago and Teia exclaimed in unison. "But why?"

"You know I've always dreaded this," Lucanis shrugged. "Grandmother spared me that agony."

"Dreaded... if the Demon of Vyrantium ever dreads anything..." Teia shook her head. "But then congratulations are even more in order! We'll have you back on contracts then?"

"Err... no," Lucanis smiled. "Not yet. I'll be joining Grey Wardens going after the Blight. Without becoming a Warden myself, mind."

"You'll be joining Anders here, you mean," Viago smirked. "It's unusual as far as honey moon destinations go... but whatever," he winked.

"Honey moon..?" It was Lucanis' turn to be surprised.

"Oh come now, it's obvious!" Teia laughed. "That's the other thing the whole town is talking about - and not just the Crows! Lucanis Dellamorte is no longer single!"

"That turned a few heads," Viago seconded. "And... well... never mind."

"Mathilda?" Lucanis asked, his face darkening.

"There's talk..." Viago nodded. "You know she recently widowed... by our hand. I suppose she expected..."

"That I marry her," Lucanis said gravely. "I know. I thought of this. I..." He paused, looking away. "It's been over twenty five years... since... we last spoke," he shook his head. "I am not certain whether it is the same woman... or may be the one I still love remained in the past?"

"You could have at least talked to her since her husband's death," Viago pointed out. "It was before your imprisonment."

"But what if she's changed?"

"Then you'll know it," Teia said quietly. "As it is, you are still thinking of the girl from twenty five years ago."

"I haven't spoken to her since she married," Lucanis nodded.

"She had no children," Viago added.

"You should find out," Teia agreed.

"Well... I'm not so sure," Lucanis looked away, focusing on his coffee.

They sat in silence for a while, then a street minstrel brought a song into the room.

"I am sorry, we should not have spoken of this," Viago touched Lucanis' hand. "It is none of our business. We are happy you finally found someone who is not family or a contract. Perhaps the past should remain in the past."

"Perhaps you should show Anders what Treviso has to offer," Teia smiled. "Tortoni has a new band, I hear they are quite good..."

"Tortoni always has good music," Viago agreed. "Even if it is often Orlaisian..."

"Well, what do you expect from an Orlaisian immigrant?" Teia shrugged. "But he knows his cooking..."

"Orlaisians usually do..."

"As do Antivans," Lucanis pointed out. "But why not. Shall we all go? Or do you have plans?"

"No plans," Teia said quickly, shooting a stringent glance at Viago. "Let's go!"

...

Cafe Tortoni was packed as usual, but there was always a table free for the Crows, especially this one Crow that the whole town was talking about - Lucanis. They refused the menu, only taking light tapaz and an invariable bottle of wine - Rioja Reserva, and none of that sweet Tevinter nonsense, as Antivans liked to point out. The night was young, and Tortoni's cellars were well stocked, with Rioja Granda replacing Reserva as the evening wore on.

The band was playing tango. One after the other, with tunes blending seamlessly into one continuous stream of music. There was no singer, the accordion was taking the lead instead. The dance floor was packed as densely as the room, cigar smoke mixing with that of cigarillos, large fans moving it up and away. The dancers seemed to be smoking too... Like at The Gay Vint, most dancers were focusing on their own dance, but the steps were more precise, more measured, as the rhythm of the Antivan tango was sharply punctuated with every beat... One, two, three, turn... one, two, three, turn... After a while Anders started noticing the difference among the dancers. While simple steps were most prevalent, some couples put a lot more variation into their dances, with daring acrobatic moves stealing the show.

"The Crows like to show off," Viago pointed them out. "We train in acrobatics from our youth, for professional reasons, you understand, but it also comes in handy on the dance floor."

"I see a lot of elaborate moves and very little passion," Anders commented, watching the floor.

"It's the music," Viago nodded. "Wait until the singer appears."

Several bottles of Rioja later, there was a subtle change. The accordionist slumped on a stool at the bar, tired after a long performance; several other musicians changed. A saxophone, a violin, a cello joined the jam... and yet the vibe did not change until the singer appeared.

Bésame, bésame mucho
Como si fuera esta noche la última vez...

The famous song walked in and took possession of the room. For a moment the dance floor froze, as if asking itself whether it was ready for real emotion. Some dancers were, others weren't. The time for acrobatics was over. The sax and the violin played a duet allowing the floor to make up its mind.

"And this is tango Antivan style," Lucanis got Anders to his feet. "None of that showy nonsense. Come - we start with the same basic steps..."

The voice, so deep it could be male, was nonetheless unmistakably female, blending the boundaries of perception. A woman in the second half of her life, simple and barefoot, sang effortlessly, her intimate words meant for just the one person in the room... and every person felt she sang to them.

The verses were simple; there wasn't much more to say, that first phrase carried all the love and the sadness at once. The saxophone, the guitar and the piano took turns to continue the conversation - the dance seemed to never end.

"They dance well together," Viago said quietly to Teia, watching Anders and Lucanis. "I wonder what they are talking about."

"Are they talking?" Teia followed them with her eyes. "They don't seem to need to."

"This is a song about losing someone you love, why would they dance to it?"

"May be they don't read too much into the lyrics and just enjoy the dance?" Teia smiled, putting her head on Viago's shoulder. "It's just a song..."

Quiero tenerte muy cerca
Mirarme en tus ojos, verte junto a mí...

"Just a song, eh?" Viago put his arm around her. "Bésame, bésame mucho..."

Anders and Lucanis were moving across the dance floor easily navigating between the other pairs as everyone seemed to be somehow always in step, and there was enough room for all the twirls and dives and even acrobatics, as out of place as it seemed in a tune like that. Lucanis was leading; just like in Minrathous, he let Anders fall in a deep dive, catching him at the last moment and bringing him up in a twirl just as the violin finished its phrase, with the saxophone taking over. And just like in Minrathous, Anders switched the step and took the lead.

"Que tengo miedo a perderte, perderte despué..." Lucanis mouthed with the singer.

"You won't lose me," Anders put out his hand in the fashion of the tango, taking Lucanis' in his. "We walk together." One, two, three, turn.

"To the gates of the Black City," Lucanis pressed his cheek to Anders', taking his lead in this tango. One, two, three, turn.

"As far as need be, I hear the song." A twirl, and back in step. One, two, three, turn.

"This isn't a tango," Lucanis smiled, changing step. "Although you can dance it as one." Another dive for Anders, with Lucanis catching him at the last moment.

"Antivan style," Anders smiled. "Nothing is as it seems."

The guitar won the argument this time, pushing both the saxophone and the piano to the background. It was a tango now.

Bésame, bésame mucho
Como si fuera esta noche la última vez
Bésame, bésame mucho
Que tengo miedo a perderte, perderte después...

"...perderte después..." It was now Anders mouthing the song.

"Not while I live," Lucanis caught him in an embrace, letting the legs do the slow steps.

"Is that a promise?" Anders smiled.

"It's a contract."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Music by Consuelo Velázquez sung by Cesária Évora -
listen here.

[Lena Wolf]

Morning Star, 3E411 - Another song

"Here we go again," Anders sat up in bed, having woken up in the middle of the night. "It's time."

"Hmm...?" Lucanis woke up too. "A nightmare?"

"The Blight is on the move," Anders straightened up, every frivolity evaporating from his person. "We leave in the morning, Lucanis. Minrathous, then on to the Anderfels."

"Luca... call me Luca," Lucanis put his hand on Anders' shoulder, sensing how tense he was. "And so it begins."

"The other Wardens will have sensed it too," Anders nodded. "But still, tell Spite to contact Avernus through the Fade... Tell Alistair to be ready."

"Avernus knows," a spectral crow appeared at Lucanis' shoulder. "He sends his regards," the crow hissed. "They will wait for your signal... you move first."

"Linus Kristavssen - that is my name," Anders turned to Lucanis. "I never told anyone. But we go to the land of my birth, and we may not return. I have a feeling this Blight will not be fought in the Deep Roads, but in the Anderfels. The fall of the Head Quarters was symbolic in more than one way."

"We'll do our best, Linus," Lucanis said softly.

"It's strange to hear you call me that," Anders smiled. "I haven't heard that name since I was little... I remember my mother calling me that... just barely, she died when I was too young... I remember my uncle and aunt saying my name... and it isn't something I'm fond of. When the templars took me to Ferelden, I would not tell them my name out of resentment at first, but then they called me Anders - one from the Anderfels - and I thought why not, it was a new start, why not leave my name behind... since my parents were dead anyway. What a thought for a seven year old..." He smirked. "I don't know if Linus is still alive."

"You chose a name that connects you to that frozen land every time someone speaks it," Lucanis inclined his head. "Anders. You carry the Anderfels with you wherever you go, even to your home in Ferelden. The Soldier's Peak is frozen too - it fits. But in the Anderfels you no longer need to be reminded. Linus isn't dead, he's just been waiting to return."

"I want my name to be known in case we perish," Anders nodded. "Anders, Mage of the Circle of Ferelden, Anders of the Order of the Grey of Ferelden, Linus Kristavssen of the Anderfels. That one has no titles."

It was still the early hours of the morning but neither of them could sleep any more. Lucanis got up and started making coffee.

"It isn't the first time you're going after the Blight," he said, shooting a glance at Anders. "But this Blight seems different."

"It is," Anders nodded. "The song has changed - the song of the Blight that I hear, that every Grey Warden hears. This Blight is going to test me on every level - as a mage, as a Warden, as a leader... that last one is a first for me, and that worries me the most."

"A good leader gets help, and that's what you've been doing," Lucanis pointed out. "Your team - yes, it is your team and not Varric's or Dorian's. We follow you, we stay because of you."

"It's ironic, really," Anders smirked. "Because I am Dorian's slave."

"He bought you out to save your life, no?" Lucanis shook his head. "So yes, officially, by Tevinter laws, you are his slave - in Tevinter only. But Dorian does not see you as a slave, and we all know that."

"Yeah... So I had to be bought out, or else I'd be dead." Anders tensed up, self-doubt eating at him. "How many times Wolf came to my rescue? I lost count. Wolf left, and now it's Dorian who stepped in, but the point remains - I have to be rescued. I always mess things up."

"And if you didn't keep sewing me up after that dragon fight, I'd be dead too," Lucanis reminded him. "And when Illario nearly killed Spite. And when we were going through the villa and through Zara's house - without you, I'd be long dead for sure. People need help sometimes," he smiled. "You get in trouble because you always walk the edge."

"Which is not something a leader should do!"

"Oh, I don't know," Lucanis squinted. "It really depends. In the case of this Blight, safety will get you nowhere. You are exactly the right man for the job."

They returned to Minrathous at the first light. The Pavus Manor was still asleep when they entered, and again Lucanis' response was to start making coffee. Soon the residents started getting up.

Dorian was the first to appear and signal the butler that breakfast should be hearty and served immediately. He wasn't a Grey Warden, but he still knew that something was afoot. Davrin arrived the previous evening without saying a word, and that put Dorian on edge.

"It's time," Anders nodded when Dorian asked about the Blight. "We've all heard the song."

"That explains Davrin," Dorian agreed. "But should we send word to the others? Taash and Harding are somewhere in Nevarra."

"I would be much surprised if they didn't turn up here today," Anders smiled. "Neither of them is a Grey Warden, but Harding still has connections, and I think she would have been informed. What of the others?"

"Emmrich and Bellara are here," Dorian looked around as if expecting them to enter the breakfast room any moment. "Neve... what do you want to do with Neve?" He looked at Lucanis.

"Neve is a traitor," Lucanis said coldly. "Set her loose and watch. She'll betray us at some point, and who she betrays us to will be more important than she herself. I shall kill her then."

"As you wish," Dorian nodded. "We shall set her free." He fumbled in the pockets of his robe looking for something, and Anders took advantage of the pause. He embraced Dorian and kissed him, disregarding the surprise.

"Thank you," Anders said. "Master."

"What..?" Dorian looked dazed, it was too early in the morning. "Master..? Oh right, yes, here, this is for you." He finally found what he was looking for - an official scroll with a seal of the Tevinter Magisterium. "I should have done it sooner. I do apologise for the delay."

It was a document declaring that Anders was no longer a slave of Dorian Pavus but a free man, no financial compensation required.

"We never thought you considered him a slave," Lucanis said, seeing the document. "And now it is official."

"That's not what I meant," Anders smiled. "Although thank you for that too."

"He meant us." Lucanis stood right behind him.

"For opening our minds." Anders still held Dorian in an embrace and he kissed him again, looking into his eyes.

"I... well... I am happy for the two of you," Dorian smiled. "Life isn't always clear-cut, is it?" He hugged Anders. "So, what now?"

"Now we go after the Blight," Anders suddenly looked serious. "Are you coming? We could use a mage of your power."

"Like in the old days, eh?" Dorian grinned. "Of course I'm coming. Varric too, he's been polishing his crossbow for several days already. We're with you, Anders," he added reassuringly.

"We should wait for everyone to assemble," Lucanis nodded. "Spite will open a portal to the old Grey Warden Head Quarters. He's got everything ready."

"Well," Dorian looked pleasantly surprised. "I am glad, Lucanis. It could not have been easy to accept."

"You have no idea," Lucanis said with a frown.

...

It was a grey cold mid-morning of the following day when Anders and his team stepped out of a portal in the middle of the ruined Grey Warden Head Quarters in the Anderfels. The portal closed and a spectral crow landed on Lucanis' shoulder. Davrin shot it a sideways glance and shivered. Azzan flapped his wings but didn't take flight. Emmrich smiled and nodded.

"Wardens?" Someone called to them from further in. "Who goes there?"

"Wardens Anders and Davrin with friends," Anders replied loudly. "Good to see someone is paying attention."

"There are just a few of us here," an elderly Warden approached. "Not really fit to fight after... you know," he shook his head. "But we keep watch. You heard the song, I take it?"

"It's hard to miss," Anders nodded.

"You should go to the other Keep," the Warden continued. "Antoine is there, they've had a lot of fighting. The Blight is on the move."

"Why there?" Anders squinted. "And not here, for example?"

"What's here is no longer important," the Warden shrugged. "Not to the Blight, that is. A bunch of old books is all that's left. Oh yes, and the Archdemon blood in the vaults... But if the Blight has a new living Archdemon, they don't care for the old blood in the vaults."

"The other Keep doesn't have anything special, but there are Grey Warden Vaults nearby," Davrin nodded. "The ones that keep the artefacts from all past Blights. They are said to be huge... a fortress in itself. No idea what's in there, we were never allowed in..."

"Who's guarding them?" Anders looked worried.

"No one..." Davrin shrugged. "Well, traps... you can't actually get in."

"Unless you really want to," Anders looked somber. "You've been to the Deep Roads? No? Well..."

"Deep Roads entrances are marked on this map," the elderly Warden handed Anders an old map with hand-made markings. "These..." he pointed out two or three, "...are just near the old Vaults here. There may be some inside as well. Take it. I have no need of it any more, I can find them in my sleep."

Anders thanked the Warden and took the map. He noticed black veins running along the Warden's wrist - he must have been hearing the song loud and clear, yet chose to resist for as long as he could. He didn't have much longer to live.

"Do you have enough mixtures for the pain?" Anders started offloading vials from his pack.

"We do, keep them," the Warden stopped him. "Take them where the fighting is. We'll manage back here. Come bury us if you survive - this is our last Blight."

"You have no mixtures, do you?" Anders squinted and shook his head but put the vials back into his pack. "Keep records. What is your name?"

"Roderik," the Warden replied. "Markus and Linus are back there, they don't walk very well, Anders of Ferelden..."

"Linus Kristavssen of the Anderfels," Anders said softly. "Your comrade's namesake. Tell him... there's another Linus with the Wardens."

"Good luck to you, Warden of the Anderfels," Roderik smiled. "Good luck to you too, Warden Davrin," he turned to Davrin who was listening with horror. "Let's hope you'll live to see black veins appear under your own skin, many years from now..."

...

"That Warden is all but consumed by the blight," Davrin was saying in a hushed voice as they were walking towards the other Keep. "Have you seen his veins? Yes, of course you have..." he shivered. "He must be in agony!"

"And yet he keeps to his duty," Anders pointed out. "Roderik, Markus and Linus... we must remember them."

"I can't imagine what it must be like... the song must be overwhelming," Davrin was still in shock.

"At this stage of blight consumption the pain almost blots out the song," Anders said quietly. "It varies from person to person... but that's what most of them report."

"You've seen a lot of dying Wardens, haven't you?" Davrin suddenly realised that Anders was a healer.

"No, I've seen only some, in the Deep Roads. The ones that went down fighting, at much earlier stages of the blight. I've seen a lot of blighted people though. At some point no mixture is strong enough to stop the pain..."

"What did you do?" Davrin stopped dead.

"It depends what they wanted," Anders stopped too, facing him. "Some wanted death, which I granted, others... well, it depends."

"Others wanted to join Grey Wardens to stop their blight," Davrin guessed. "Which you did not grant?" He raised an eyebrow.

"It's the wrong reason to join Grey Wardens," Anders' eyes were hard. "But it wasn't my decision. I put them in contact with whoever was in charge locally. Not many survive the Joining when they are so far gone."

"And those that do?" Davrin wanted to know. "Does it really stop their blight?"

"It doesn't, no," Anders shook his head. "But it slows it down and takes away most of the pain. It's like they get a boost, like they can go on for a while longer before succumbing to it. Like the Blight in the Archdemon's blood that hey drink combines with their own making them stronger... That's the terrifying thought - self-healing Blight. Antoine has been studying it..."

"Antoine is one of those Grey Wardens who joined because he was blighted," Davrin pointed out, resuming walking.

"Yes, and in Antoine's case my reservations don't hold," Anders nodded. "He is a true Warden."

"As opposed to false Wardens?" Davrin didn't agree with those reservations. "We are all Wardens, Anders, regardless why we joined. Many simply get conscripted by the Rite, whether they like it or not."

"A good Warden-Commander does not force anyone to join Grey Wardens," Anders shot Davrin a glance. "The recruit must understand what he's getting into! How did you get conscripted?"

"I got bored," Davrin shrugged and grinned. "Growing up in the forests of Tevinter... I am Dalish, you see," he stroked his elven ears. "There was nothing to do! It's either hunt the deer or tend to the halla... and I wanted action! Monster hunting! So I came here to the Head Quarters and asked to join. And was accepted."

"I see," Anders didn't sound surprised. "And has it been everything you hoped for?"

"Up until the Head Quarters got clobbered... yes," Davrin sighed. "The actual Blight is ugly."

"It is."

They walked in silence for a while and the turrets of the old Keep were already appearing in the distance when Davrin finally dared to ask his question.

"I know we didn't start out well... I behaved like a dunderhead," he said somewhat awkwardly. "But why did you join, Anders?"

"I was rescued by the Wardens," he answered simply. "I was going to be made tranquil, but one Warden went out of his way to save my life. Then I knew where I belonged."

"Wow! That's romantic..." Davrin whistled.

"It didn't feel very romantic at the time, I assure you," Anders smirked. "But in essence that's what it was," he concluded just as they were walking up the steps of the Keep. "Antoine!" He cried to someone within. "Reinforcements have arrived!"

A tired-looking elf met them at the top of the stairs.

"Hello, my friend," he smiled to Anders. "Come - it's quiet for the moment. Let me tell you about the new song of the Blight..."

[Lena Wolf]

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."

[Lena Wolf]

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

[Lena Wolf]

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?"

[Lena Wolf]

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..."

[Renee]

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

[Lena Wolf]

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

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

[Lena Wolf]

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?"

[Renee]

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

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

[Lena Wolf]

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

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

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

[Lena Wolf]

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.

[Renee]

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

Ha ha okay!

[Lena Wolf]

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.

[Lena Wolf]

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?

[Renee]

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

[Lena Wolf]

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.

[Lena Wolf]

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