“Loghain, my decision is final,”
Kitranna walked to the long table set up at the end of a ruined hall, around which Duncan, Cailain, and Alistair. To her surprise, Uldred, one of the Senior Enchanters of Calenhad Circle, was there as well, flanked by a man in Templar plate and a woman in the garb of a Chantry Mother.
“I will stand by the Gray Wardens in this assault,” Cailan was saying. He spoke to the man in steel armor, Loghain.
“You risk too much, Cailan,” Loghain said. He had long black hair pulled away sharply from his dour face, except for two braids that hung in front of his ears. “The darkspawn horde is too large for you to be playing hero.”
“If that's the case, then perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces after all,” Cailan said with a smirk.
Loghain scowled and a muscle in his jaw worked. “I must repeat my protests over your fool notion that we need the Orlesian forces to defend ourselves,” he turned away from Cailan, and Cailan's smirk slid off his face.
“It is not a fool notion,” Cailan said with a frown. “Our conflicts with the Orlesians are a thing of the past, and you will remember who is king.”
Loghain pinched the bridge of his nose. “How fortunate that Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand over Ferelden to those who enslaved us for a century,” he hissed.
Kitranna grimaced. She vaguely remembered reading something about Loghain once—he was instrumental in overturning the Orlesian occupation of Ferelden. No wonder he was so unhappy.
“Then our current forces will have to suffice, won't they?” Cailan said. He turned to Duncan. “Duncan, are your people ready for battle?”
“They are, your Majesty.”
Cailan turned his gaze to Kitranna. “And this is the mage from the Circle I met earlier?” he smiled at her. “I understand congratulations are in order.”
Loghain looked up at that, narrowing his eyes at Kitranna and looking at her with a more intent expression.
“Thank you,” she said, then added “Your Majesty.”
“Every Gray Warden is needed now,” Cailan said. “You should be honored to join their ranks.”
“Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan,” Loghain growled. “We must attend to reality.”
“Fine,” Cailan said with a shrug. “Speak your strategies. The Gray Wardens and I draw the darkspawn into charging our lines. And then?”
“You will alert the tower to light the beacon, signaling my men to charge,” Loghain explained, leaning over the map on the table. “Then you--”
“Flank the darkspawn, I remember—this is the Tower of Ishal in the ruins, yes? But who shall light the beacon?”
Loghain leaned back. “I have a few men stationed. It's not a dangerous task, but it is vital.”
“Then we should send our best,” Cailan said, leaning back as well. “Send Alistair and the new Gray Warden—Surana, yes? They can make sure it's done.”
Alistair exchanged a look with Duncan. “We'll do our best, Majesty,” Alistair said.
Loghain frowned. “You rely on these Gray Wardens too much. Is that truly wise?”
“You have fought alongside Gray Wardens before,” Cailan said. “Surely you know them to be excellent and skillful warriors, don't you?”
Loghain folded his arms. “Over reliance on any resource is a mistake,” he growled.
Cailan rolled his eyes. “Enough of your paranoia,” he said. “Gray Wardens battle the Blight no matter who they are, and they are the best we have.”
“Your Majesty,” Duncan cut in. “You should consider the possibility of an Archdemon appearing.”
Loghain went a few degrees paler, but his voice was steady and disdainful as he said “There have been no signs of any dragons in the Wilds, Archdemon or no.”
“Isn't that what your men are here for, Duncan?” Cailan said.
“I—yes, your Majesty,” Duncan said. “However, your own people need to be prepared in case one does appear. Gray Wardens are the ones who engage Archdemons directly, yes, but Archdemons can cause great damage, even with Wardens fighting them.”
Uldred spoke up. “Your Majesty, the Tower of Ishal and its beacon are unnecessary, and prone to error. The Circle of Magi--”
The Chantry Mother cut Uldred off. “We will not entrust any lives to your spells, mage,” she snapped. “Save them for the darkspawn.”
Kitranna bristled. “I suppose you don't want any spirit healers helping your medics, then?” she asked.
Everyone turned to her.
“I beg your pardon?” the Mother said.
“I mean, if you don't want to trust any lives to the spells of us mages.” she clenched one of her fists.
Uldred frowned. “Enchanter, do you mind--” he hissed, but Kitranna cut him off.
“No, I want to hear what she has to say about spirit healers,” Kitranna said, glaring at the Mother.
“Enough--” Loghain began.
“Because, if you don't want us mages helping you, I suppose we can just let your medics do without?” Kitranna spoke over Loghain. “Don't want any Barrier spells, do you? No firestarters? I guess we can all just leave, then--”
The Mother's lip curled. “How dare you speak to me that way, mage--”
“That is enough!” Loghain slammed his hands down on the table, making everyone jump. “This plan will suffice, the Gray Wardens will light the beacon, and if the mages and the Mother could please cease their bickering, we may finally get on with our work.”
"Thank you, Loghain,” Cailan said, holding out a calming hand. Kitranna and Uldred both glared at the Mother, who tilted her head up and folded her arms.
Cailan glanced around at them, and Alistair shifted from foot to foot.
“That moment will be glorious, will it not?” Cailan said, and everyone looked at him. “The Gray Wardens battle beside the King of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil.”
Loghain sighed and turned away. “Yes, Cailan,” he drawled. “A glorious moment for us all.”
Cailan and Loghain left, to see to their troops. Duncan, Alistair and Kitranna left as well, to discuss their part in the plan, but as they were turning to leave, the Mother took Kitranna's arm.
“Watch your tongue, Enchanter,” she said. “Perhaps your inclusion into the Gray Wardens has given you some misapprehensions about your place in the world.”
Kitranna yanked out of the Mother's hold. “What would you do without spirit healers, Mother?” she hissed. “Tell me. I would love to know.”
“Do not think your new status makes you safe,” the Mother hissed back. “You are still as unreliable and dangerous as any other mage.”
“Oh, I certainly hope--”
“Enough,” Duncan came between the two of them. “Mother Odette, this woman is under my authority and my protection. The Chantry has no current claim over her.”
Mother Odette pursed her lips. “I hope you know what you are doing,” she said. “Bringing a mage into your Order.”
“The Gray Wardens have had many mages in the past, and there are many in our service now,” Duncan said. “None of which have become Abominations, I may add.”
Mother Odette cast one last glare Kitranna's way, then left.
Duncan shook his head. “Please do not provoke the Chantry personnel,” he murmured to Kitranna.
Kitranna curled her hands into fists and looked away. Duncan sighed. “There are some errands I need to attend to,” he told her and Alistair. He told them to meet him in a few hours, where they could attend to their plan.
“You didn't have to go off on the Mother like that, you know,” Alistair said.
“You heard what she said,” Kitranna folded her arms and glared at the ground.
“Yes, but...” Alistair sighed. “She was pretty rude.”
Kitranna scowled.
“Look...” Alistair said. He rubbed the back of his head. “I...you're a Warden now,” he told her, his voice firm. “The Chantry doesn't have any hold over you.”
“Don't they?”
“No, they don't.”
“Are you sure?”
Alistair paused. “Look, if nothing else, Duncan and I would make sure nothing would happen to you,” he assured her.
She looked at him. His face was flushed but his chin stubborn.
“You can't possibly promise that,” she said.
“I think I just did.”
She shook her head and hunched her shoulders. “Come on,” she muttered. “Let's go catch up with Duncan.”
They did so, finding Duncan at one of the enormous bonfires that were set up along the outskirts of the camp.
“We won't be in the battle?” Alistair protested.
“This is by the King's personal request, you remember,” Duncan said. “If the beacon is not lit, Loghain's men won't know when to charge.”
“And he definitely needs two Gray Wardens up there holding a torch, does he?”
Duncan frowned in thought. “Actually, I would believe it more prudent to have more than just the two of you away from the battlefield,” he admitted. “But we cannot spare the people.”
“You want more of us away from the battle?” Alistair exclaimed, shocked. “What kind of sense does that make?”
“In case the battle goes poorly, there will be other Gray Wardens to hold the country until the Orlesian and Anderfels Wardens may arrive,” Duncan explained. “We need not risk all of our people on the front lines at once.”
“Oh,” Alistair looked down. He was still frowning, but offered no more protests.
“The tower is on the other side of the gorge from the king's camp, there,” Duncan pointed out, past the bridge. They turned and could see the silhouette of an enormous tower on the horizon.
“Cross the gorge, head to the gates, and up to the tower entrance. From the top, you can overlook the entire valley.”
“So, when do we light the beacon?” Alistair asked with a sigh, folding his arms over his chest.
“We will signal you when the time is right.” Duncan nodded at Alistair. “The same signal we have used many times before.”
Alistair nodded. “Right.”
“How much time will we have?” Kitranna asked.
“Less than an hour. Once the battle begins, it will go extremely quickly, one way or another.”
“Can we join the battle afterwards?” Alistair asked.
“If you are needed, we will send for you,” Duncan assured him. “But unless that happens, you must stay and guard the tower.”
“What if the Archdemon shows up?” Kitranna asked.
“We soil our drawers if that happens,” Alistair told her.
“If it appears, leave it to us,” Duncan said. “I want no needless heroics from anyone, least of all you.”
Kitranna and Alistair looked at each other.
“We know what to do,” Alistair said.
“Good. I need to join the others,” Duncan said, checking the straps on his armor. “From now on, the two of you are on your own. Remember, you are both Gray Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title.”
“Duncan...” Alistair halted, then began again. “May the Maker watch over you.”
Duncan reached out and put a hand on Alistair's shoulder. “May he watch over us all.”
Duncan left, leaving the two of them alone.
“Come on,” Alistair said. “It'll take us at least twenty minutes to get over there, and that's if everything's alright.”
“And if it's not?”
“A lot longer. Come on.”
Kitranna reached over her shoulder and grasped her staff, feeling its comforting weight in her hands.
There was a clap of thunder overhead, and it began to rain.
“Perfect,” Alistair muttered, donning his helmet. “That's just what we need.”
“Look at that,” Kitranna breathed, staring out over the gorge In the distance, she could see the red glow of hundreds of torches.
“That'll be the darkspawn,” Alistair muttered. He looked down, over the rim of the bridge. “Our forces are down there, see?” he pointed.
Kitranna nodded. “I see them.” she pulled her hood up, as it began to rain harder. “Let's go.”
Everything began to pick up in speed as the red glow approached, and Kitranna could now see more clearly the massive wave of darkspawn that approached. The two armies clashed, and more people began to move.
They got to the bridge and hurried across, dodging several rocks thrown by darkspawn artillery. Kitranna hadn't even known that the darkspawn had artillery, but evidently they did.
Alistair and Kitranna ran further into the ruins, and eventually encountered a soldier and another mage, one Kitranna didn't recognize. The soldier stopped them.
“You—you're Gray Wardens, aren't you?” he said. “The Tower—it's been taken!”
“What are you talking about, man, taken how?” Alistair demanded.
“The darkspawn came up through the lower chambers, they're everywhere. Most of our men are dead.” the man's voice shook as he explained.
“We have to get to the beacon and light the thing!” Kitranna exclaimed. “What do we do now?”
“We need to take the tower back, is what,” Alistair said. “You two, come with us,” he gestured to the soldier and the mage, who quickly fell into step with them.
They hurried through the fortress, towards the Tower, and almost immediately met a horde of darkspawn.
Kitranna let out a noise of disgust, blasting a large firestorm spell to torch the beasts.
“Easy with that!” the soldier exclaimed, shielding his face from the flames.
“Get out of the way!” she snapped.
The soldier did as he was bid, retrieving a crossbow from a fallen corpse and standing far back from the fight, allowing both Kitranna and the other mage to use their more explosive spells.
The skirmish was finished and Kitranna wiped away the sweat from her brow.
“Which way now?” She asked Alistair. He pointed, and they went in the direction he indicated.
They encountered several more smaller groups of darkspawn, each time Kitranna growing less and less patient. They had no time for this, they needed to get to the Tower now.
She roared in frustration, slamming a particularly stubborn Darkspawn with an overpowered chain lightning spell, and her chest heaved. “Come on!” she snapped at her companions. They were almost to the Tower.
The gate to the Tower of Ishal was flanked by two enormous statues in Tevinter-style dress. The windows to the interior were lit up, and there were dead soldiers scattered around the entrance.
Kitranna growled to herself. The soldier had not been exaggerating. It took both Alistair and the soldier several tries to force the gates of the Tower open, as it had been barricaded from the other side. They found darkspawn had infested the entire tower, top to bottom.
“How did they get in so fast?” Alistair asked, breathing heavily as they had a break in between groups of darkspawn. “What are they doing ahead of the rest of the Horde?”
“I don't know, Alistair,” Kitranna drawled. “Maybe you should ask them yourself.”
Alistair heaved a sigh.
“I think they dug in through the ground floor,” the mage piped up. “I don't know though...”
Alistair shook his head. “There wasn't supposed to be any resistance here,” he said. “The Tower is supposed to be fortified, that's why we chose it...” he pushed his hair off his forehead. “Maybe we should have listened to that mage at the king's meeting...”
“It's almost like mages are intelligent or something,” Kitranna sniped.
“Hey, I never said--”
Kitranna scowled and pushed forward. “Come on,” she snapped.
They went further, climbing the Tower at a pace that felt achingly slow. It had been over an hour by now, they were sure of it, but there was no way to avoid it. There were simply too many darkspawn to move quickly.
Finally, they came to the top level. All four of them were exhausted, covered in blood and scorch marks from spells gone astray. Both Kitranna and the other mage had gotten sloppier in their spells, and smelled strongly of lyrium from the potions they imbibed. Alistair was fine so far, but the other soldier had a nasty gash in one arm. They pushed the door open and things got immeasurably worse.
There was an ogre already occupying the floor.
The thing was enormous and ugly, hunched over the remains of several people whose bodies were so mangled they could no longer be identified. It sported huge horns and larger teeth, and a truly awful smell came off the beast in waves.
It spotted them and rose from its crouch with a roar, spraying spit from its mouth.
Kitranna murmured a curse.
“Well, that's not good,” Alistair choked, holding up his shield.
Kitranna and the mage exchange a look, then backed up, charging their staffs both with a spell.
“You two, back up,” Kitranna commanded Alistair and the soldier.
The ogre charged, and Kitranna and the mage both let loose separate spells, hers a fire spell and his an ice one. The spells were haphazard and explosive, but they did their job. The creature roared in rage as her fireball caught its skin, and the soldier let loose several arrows from the crossbow he had retrieved.
The battle was long and grueling, the beast being resistant to all the spells and arrows they threw at it. Alistair couldn't get close enough to stick it with his sword and in any case none of them wanted to get within snatching distance of those enormous hands or sharp teeth.
Finally, however, the ogre was dead.
“Come on,” Alistair said. “I'm sure we've missed the signal by now, but we need to try--!”
They lit the beacon, and waited, all four of them hanging out the sole window, to see what they could. Outside, the rain had not let up, and smoke and rain obscured the view. All they could see were vague shapes and lights, nothing solid.
“What's going on?” Kitranna asked. “I don't see anyone moving.”
Alistair squinted. “No, those are Loghain's forces, there--” he pointed to a mass of lights on the other side of the gorge. “I don't understand, what are they--”
He was cut off as a massive swarm of darkspawn burst through the door. Exhausted and outnumbered as they were, they could hardly put up any kind of fight.
Kitranna let off a burst of spells, but an arrow broke right past her Barrier spell and slammed into her shoulder, driving her to the ground with a cry.
She saw a darkspawn cut down the other mage, and Alistair locked in battle with another one, but then her vision clouded over and she knew no more.
Someone came to her, then, but she didn't know who it was. Someone picked her up in their arms.
She heard music. A voice, singing. She didn't know the words.
The first thing Kitranna was aware of again was the smell of something cooking. Dust and books. The sound of light rain pattering on a roof.
She blinked and groaned, a heavy pain in her chest.
“Ah,” someone appeared at her bedside. “Your eyes finally open. Mother shall be pleased.”
Kitranna blinked at the source of the voice, to see Morrigan, the woman from the Wilds, standing next to her.
Morrigan looked the same as she ever did. She even wore the same clothes, the same peculiar mix of assorted rags and leathers.
“Please, do try not to move too much,” Morrigan said. Her hand gleamed with a weak healing spell that she pressed to Kitranna's shoulder. “You arrived here with a great many arrows sticking out of you. Your wounds are not quite healed yet.”
“Where am I?” Kitranna croaked.
“You are in my home,” Morrigan told her. “Well, that of myself and my mother, to be precise.”
Kitranna tried to sit up, then gasped, pain making her stop. Morrigan looked at her with lidded eyes. “I would not suggest moving very much,” she said. “As I said, your injuries were extensive.”
“How did I get here?” Kitranna asked, closing her eyes again. “What happened? There were darkspawn...”
“Mother rescued you.”
Kitranna blinked at the other woman. “How'd she do that?”
“She turned into a giant bird and plucked you and you companion from the top of the Tower you were stranded upon, one in each talon,” Morrigan informed her, a tiny smile playing at the corners of her lips.
“Did she now?”
“If you do not believe that tale, perhaps you should ask her yourself. She may even tell you.”
Kitranna ran a hand over her face. Even moving that much made her arm ache. “What happened to the army? Duncan—the other Gray Wardens?”
“The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field,” Morrigan said. “The darkspawn won your battle. Those he abandoned were massacred.”
Kitranna felt the blood drain from her face. “Alistair,” she said. “Is Alistair here? I need—I need to--” she tried to sit up again, then let out a small cry, clasping a hand to shoulder, which burned when she tried to move.
“As of this moment, you need do nothing but stay right there,” Morrigan said. “Your Alistair is injured as well, somewhat less gravely, so he is currently engaged in conversation with my mother.” Morrigan's mouth twisted, indicating what she thought of this.
Kitranna sucked a breath in through her teeth. “How badly am I hurt?” she asked.
“Quite severely, but you will recover,” Morrigan said. “The Darkspawn did nothing Mother cannot heal. Speaking of which, Mother wanted to see you when you awoke.”
“Why?”
“I could not say. Mother rarely tells me her plans,” Morrigan shot a nasty look at the door, outside of which was where her mother presumably resided. “Here,” she summoned another healing spell to her hands again, this one stronger. She pressed both hands to the wound in Kitranna's shoulder, and the pain eased tremendously.
Kitranna sighed. “Thank you,” she said, finally able to sit up with less pain.
“You...you are welcome,” Morrigan pulled back. “Come, if you are able, Mother should wish to see you.”
Kitranna sat up and painfully put her feet over the edge of the bed. “Where are my things?” she asked. She was dressed only in a plain, roughspun shift.
“Your robes were not salvageable,” Morrigan told her with a grimace. “Nor your companion's armor. Completely ruined by darkspawn taint, I am afraid, but there is clothing here you can borrow.”
“I appreciate it.”
Morrigan gave Kitranna a set of leathers somewhat like Morrigan's own patchwork clothing. They were old, but serviceable.
“My staff?” Kitranna asked.
“Broken. Here,” Morrigan handed her a staff, made of dark wood with an opaque crystal set into the top. “We have many. I know how dangerous it is to be a mage with no weapon.”
“Thank you,” Kitranna said again. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did anyone survive besides us? We had another soldier and a mage with us...”
Morrigan shook her head. “Mother only brought you and your suspicious friend. On the battlefield, there are only stragglers who remain, and most of them are long gone.” she paused. “You...would not like to see what is happening in the valley now.”
Kitranna toyed with her sleeve. “We're safe here, though?”
“For the moment. Mother's magic keeps the darkspawn at bay. Once you leave, however, there is no telling what will happen, but the main horde has moved on.”
Kitranna nodded. “Alright. Where's your mother?”
“Outside, with your friend.”
“He has a name, you know.”
“Does he indeed?”
Kitranna rolled her eyes and Morrigan lead her outside. Alistair and Morrigan's mother were there, just under the awning at the front of the house. It was raining, a light shower that nonetheless gave a chill to the air. Morrigan went back in, leaving Kitranna alone with the other two.
Alistair looked terrible. His skin was gray and he had dark circles under his eyes. He too was wearing borrowed clothes, a leather shirt and breeches that didn't fit him very well.
“You—you're alive!” Alistair exclaimed when he saw her, straightening his back.
“You worry too much, young man,” Morrigan's mother informed him.
Alistair ignored her. “I thought you were dead for sure!”
“Morrigan and her mother saved me,” Kitranna said, gesturing to the two women. “Without them I probably would be.”
Morrigan's mother smirked.
“Duncan's dead,” Alistair said. “The Gray Wardens...the king.”
“I know,” Kitranna said.
“This doesn't seem real,” Alistair said, rubbing his face with one hand. “You're right, if it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower.”
“Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad,” the woman in question reprimanded Alistair.
“I—I didn't mean...” Alistair stammered. “But...what do we call you? You never gave us your name.”
“Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. If you insist upon a name, I suppose it will do.”
Alistair's eyes widened. “The Flemeth?” he asked. “From the legends? Daveth was right...you are a Witch of the Wilds, aren't you?”
Flemeth pursed her lips. “And what does that mean?” she said. “I know a bit of magic, and it has served you both well, has it not?”
“Have you been like this the whole time?” Kitranna hissed to Alistair. “Maker, Alistair, she rescued us!” she looked at Flemeth. “I...was been wondering about that, though,” she said. "How did you rescue us, anyway?"
Flemeth smirked. “That tale is not the important one at this time,” she said.
“Why us?” Alistair demanded. “Why not Duncan? Or the king? Duncan is—was—our leader!”
Flemeth sighed. “I am sorry for your Duncan. But your grief must come later, in the dark shadows before your vengeance, as my mother once said. Duty must come now.”
Kitranna narrowed her eyes. “That doesn't answer why you rescued us, specifically. There are other Gray Wardens—were other Gray Wardens.”
Flemeth met her gaze. “You have heard things, have you not?” she said. “Whispers and strange omens from spirits, prophecies and portents...”
Kitranna leaned back. “...maybe...” she said.
“There you are then, my dear.”
“I don't understand.”
“Something is coming,” Flemeth said, and a chill ran down Kitranna's spine. “Darkspawn, yes, but something else.”
“An Archdemon?” Alistair suggested, looking from Flemeth to Kitranna.
Flemeth regarded him. “Whether there is or is not, it has always been the Gray Wardens' duty to unite the lands against the Blights, or has that changed when I wasn't looking?”
“No, it hasn't,” Alistair said. “And...we are the only Ferelden Wardens left.” he rubbed his eyes. “But—we were already fighting the darkspawn! The King had nearly defeated them, why would Loghain do this?”
“Now that is a good question,” Flemeth said. “Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any Tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can outmaneuver. Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true threat.”
“So...there is an Archdemon,” Alistair said.
“Of course.”
Alistair blinked. “But...earlier, you said...”
“There are many things in this world besides darkspawn, my lad, but this is the most pertinent danger.”
“Will you help us fight this?” Kitranna asked Flemeth. “The Blight, or...whatever comes after?”
Flemeth's eyes gleamed. “Me? I am just an old woman who lives in the Wilds. I know nothing of Blights and darkspawn.”
Alistair and Kitranna exchanged a look.
“Well...” Alistair said. “Whatever Loghain's insanity, he obviously believes the darkspawn are a minor threat. We must warn everyone that this isn't the case.”
“And who will believe you?” Flemeth asked. “Unless you think to convince this Loghain of his mistake.”
“He just betrayed his own king!” Alistair exclaimed. “If Arl Eamon knew about this, he'd be the first to call for his execution.”
“Who's Arl Eamon?” Kitranna asked. “We should go to him, if he can help.”
“I suppose...” Alistair bit his lip, thinking. “Arl Eamon didn't come to Ostagar, he still has all his men...and he was Cailan's other uncle, I know him, he's a good man, respected in the Landsmeet.” he snapped his fingers. “Of course! We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!”
Kitranna frowned. “People called Loghain an honorable man, too.”
Alistair's face darkened. “The Arl would never do what Loghain did! I know him too well—but I still don't know if Eamon's help would be enough. He can't defeat a Darkspawn horde by himself.”
Kitranna sighed and leaned against the house. “We need the other Gray Wardens,” she said. “The ones from Orlais or the Anderfels—Duncan had a friend in Weisshaupt, perhaps she could help--”
Alistair shook his head. “I don't know how to contact them,” he said. “And anyway, they're months away. The closest are in Orlais, and that's four months over the Frostbacks, or two through Orzammar, and it's just—we don't have time. We need to do something now.”
Flemeth rejoined the conversation. “You have more at your disposal than you think.”
“Of course!” Alistair said, snapping his fingers. “The treaties! Gray Wardens can demand aid from Orzammar, the Dalish, the Circle, other places—they're obligated to help us during a Blight!”
Flemeth folded her arms and leaned back on her heels. “Dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon and who knows what else—this sounds like an army to me.”
“It does,” Kitranna agreed.
“Do you think we could do this?” Alistair asked, looking between Kitranna and Flemeth. “Go to Redcliffe and these other places and...build an army?”
Kitranna shrugged. “Don't see why not. If we can't, that doesn't really matter much anyway, does it?”
“What an optimistic person you are,” Alistair said with a grimace. “It's always been the Gray Wardens' duty to stand against the Blight. And right now...we're the Gray Wardens.”
Flemeth straightened. “So you are set then,” she said. “Ready to be Gray Wardens.”
“Are you really going to stay out here?” Kitranna asked. “Not offer any more help?”
Flemeth tilted her head to one side. “Now that you mention it, I do have one more thing to offer.”
Morrigan came out of the house. She glanced at Kitranna and Alistair. “The stew is bubbling,” she informed them. “Shall we have two guests for the eve again, or none?”
“The Wardens are leaving shortly, girl. And you will be joining them.”
“Such a shame--” Morrigan began, then stared at her mother. “What?”
“You heard me, girl. The last time I looked, you had ears.”
“Sounds like a good idea...” Kitranna said thoughtfully. “We need all the help we can get.”
“Have I no say in this?” Morrigan demanded.
“You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance.” Flemeth looked back to Alistair and Kitranna. “As for you, consider this repayment for your lives.”
"Ah—thank you,” Kitranna said, glancing at Morrigan, who was scowling, her arms folded.
“Not to...look a gift horse in the mouth,” Alistair began. “But won't this add to our problems? She's an apostate.”
“If you do not wish help from us illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should have left you on that tower.” Flemeth said.
“Point taken.”
“Mother...” Morrigan began. “This is not how I wanted this. I am not even ready!”
“You must be ready,” Flemeth said, her voice hard. “Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn, and whatever else comes after. They need you, Morrigan. Without you they will surely fail--”
“Hey--” Alistair interrupted.
“And all will perish under the Blight. Even I.”
Morrigan closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “I...understand.”
Flemeth turned her attention back to them. “And you, Wardens. Do you understand? I give you that which I value above all else in this world. I do this because you must succeed.”
“We understand,” Kitranna said.
Morrigan sighed. “Allow me to get my things, if you please,” she said. “And I suppose we'll need supplies as well...” she muttered darkly to herself and returned to the house.
“We do need supplies, don't we?” Alistair said. “Should we go and--”
“Let her do it herself,” Flemeth advised. “She is insufferable if interrupted while working. She will find what you need.”
“Including weapons?” Alistair hazarded. “I did lose my sword, and we can't go out with just two mages.”
“Do I look like the kind of old woman who hides swords in her house?” Flemeth asked. “You will have to make do.”
“A sword's the only thing I know how to use!”
"Can you use a quarterstaff?” Kitranna asked. “Daggers? Bow and arrow? Slingshot?”
“I'm a pretty bad shot with a bow,” Alistair said with a grimace. “Honestly, I know sword and shield—you spend all your time learning that, it's a bit hard to learn anything else.”
“Crossbow? Those are easier, aren't they? That's the point of them right?”
“Do we have any crossbows?” they both looked at Flemeth.
“I'm afraid there are no crossbows here, either,” she said. “I would suggest you improve your aim, young man, and use a longbow.”
Alistair sighed. “Wonderful.”
“No one said it would be easy,” Kitranna pointed out.
Morrigan returned, a pack on her back and a bow and quiver of arrows in one hand. “Here,” she said, shoving the quiver and bow at Alistair. “Make yourself useful, if you please, and carry these.” she pulled her hood up over her head. “I am at your disposal, Gray Wardens. Do we have a destination in mind?”
Kitranna and Alistair looked at each other. Alistair shrugged, and Morrigan sighed.
“I suggest a village north of the Wilds. It is not far, perhaps a week, and we will find much we need there.” she paused. “If you prefer, I will simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours.”
“Say what you want,” Kitranna said, before Alistair could say anything.
Morrigan glanced at Alistair. “Are you so sure?” she asked. “From the way your companion glares so, I suspect he has some sort of issue with that.”
“I just--” Alistair said, as they both turned to look at him. “Do you really want to take her along because her mother says so?” he asked Kitranna.
“And do you really want to turn down help?” Kitranna asked. “You don't even have a sword.”
Alistair sighed. “I guess you're right...” he ran a hand over his hair. “The Gray Wardens have always taken allies when they are needed.”
“I am so pleased to have your approval,” Morrigan said, rolling her golden eyes.
“Well...” Kitranna said. “I suppose we should be leaving.”
“Farewell, Mother,” Morrigan said to Flemeth. “Do not forget the stew on the fire. I would hate to return to a burned-down hut.”
Flemeth snorted. “It is far more likely you will return to see this entire area, along with my hut, swallowed up by the Blight.”
Morrigan looked stricken. “I...all I meant was...”
Flemeth's expression softened. “Yes, I know. Do try to have fun, dear.”
And with that, they left.
“What are the statues here?” Kitranna asked. Alongside the path away from Flemeth's hut, there were large statues, ruined figures missing heads or arms. “Are they Tevinter ruins, like Ostagar? They don't look the same...”
Morrigan shrugged. “I could not say for certain. I know these statues are much older than Ostagar's ruins, so perhaps they were built by Tevinters beforehand. Perhaps they were even built by the elves. I have never made a study of them.”
“I would've figured that if the elves built them, Tevinter would've knocked them all down,” Alistair pointed out.
“But they look different than the other Tevinter statues,” Kitranna insisted. “The style's all different.”
“Do you learn much of art in the Circle?” Morrigan asked.
“A bit. There's lots of books in the library. I just know the difference between styles in statuary, that's all.” Kitranna shrunk a little under Morrigan's scrutiny.
“Fascinating,” Morrigan looked almost genuinely interested. “I would have thought you would have learned nothing relevant in the Circles at all.”
“Not much,” Kitranna admitted. “But some.”
Their trip out of the Wilds was not very eventful. The darkspawn had long since moved on, and they only ran into one or two stragglers.
On one memorable occasion, they saw the shadow of a dragon pass overhead. Both Kitranna and Alistair froze when they saw it, but it took no notice of them.
Kitranna stared after it, even long after it had gone.
Morrigan snorted. “That beast is of no interest,” she said, also looking in the direction the dragon had gone.
“Does that happen a lot?” Alistair asked her.
Morrigan shrugged. “There is a dragon that lives in the Wilds, yes,” she said. “But it is of no concern of ours.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. If it was our concern, we would all know about it, even you.”
“Oh. Hey, what does that mean?”
Morrigan continued on ahead, a sharp smirk on her lips.
Apparently the darkspawn had chased everything apart from the dragon off, even the Chasind, who lived there, and the most desperate of highwaymen and the more rabid of animals. Now that the darkspawn themselves had moved on, the Wilds were very quiet and easy to move through.
Alistair was quiet as well. He had Kitranna hardly exchanged two words with each other, and they had no plans outside of 'get to Lothering.'
In the meantime, Kitranna had terrible nightmares.
A huge beast with eyes like green fire roared in her mind, a sound so loud it shattered the world around it. Music played in her head, the sounds of darkspawn and death as well. Alistair noticed once.
“Bad dreams, huh?” he asked one night, watching her sit up, kicking her bedroll off her legs.
She bared her teeth. “What does it matter to you?”
He rolled his eyes. “Look, part of being a Gray Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. That's what your dream was. Hearing them.” He looked away from her, his brow furrowed. “The Archdemon it...talks...to the Horde, and we feel it just as they do. That's how we know it's a real Blight.”
She clenched her fists. “I have dreams about demons,” she said. “Or I did. In the Circle.”
He glanced at her.
“I stopped having nightmares on the road, between Ostagar and Calenhad.”
“Sorry,” Alistair said. “It takes a bit, but eventually you can block the dreams out. Probably easier for you, since you're a mage.” he paused. “Some of the older Gray Wardens say—said—they could understand the Archdemon a bit, but I sure can't.”
She looked at him sharply. “What do they say it says?”
“Lots of things—they said it was mostly...feelings, more than anything.”
“Feelings like what?”
He shrugged. “Mostly lots of ending the world kind of feelings. They never got anything very specific from it.”
“Oh. Anything else I should know?”
“Well...” he tilted his head up. “You've got about thirty years. Give or take?”
“What?”
“You're Tainted. You still have the Blight, it's just slowed down because you're a Warden. So, you're still gonna die from it.”
“Ah. Wonderful.”
“It's not so bad. Could be worse.”
“Mm.” she looked away from him, cutting off the conversation.
Morrigan and Alistair didn't get on. At first, the three of them were just focused on getting out of the Wilds, so none of them spoke very much. Then, they started coming to more familiar territory, and Alistair began to get curious.
“So...let's talk about your mother,” he said to her one morning.
“I'd rather talk about your mother,” Morrigan said in reply, glancing over her shoulder at him.
“Well, there's nothing to talk about,” Alistair said quickly. “And anyways, isn't your mother a scary witch who lives in the middle of a swamp? Much more interesting.”
“To you, perhaps. But you would find the moss growing upon a stone interesting.”
Kitranna snickered, and Alistair scowled at her, before turning his attention back to Morrigan.
“You know what's more interesting than that?” he said. “Apostates. Mages living outside of the Tower.”
“Alistair, drop it,” Kitranna snapped, her good humor lost, and they both glanced at her.
“I am not offended,” Morrigan said. “It is no concern of mine what Alistair believes about my mother.”
“Doesn't matter,” Kitranna said. “Just...” she ran a hand over her head. “You don't know who could be listening.”
They both were staring at her now.
“We're in the middle of the Wilds,” Alistair said slowly. “Who could possibly be listening to us?”
“I assure you, I would know if someone was here besides us, and there is no one,” Morrigan said.
Kitranna hunched her shoulders. “Just leave it, alright?” she said. The back of her neck itched.
“Alright...” Alistair said. He and Morrigan exchanged a confused glance for an instant, then turned their attention back to the road.
They were finally back on the main road when it came to light that Morrigan could change into other animals.
One moment she had handed her staff to Kitranna, and her pack to Alistair, the next, she had transformed into a black bird and flew high over their heads.
Alistair and Kitranna both stared up at her.
“Did anyone ever do that in the Circle?” he asked her. “I've never seen a mage do that.”
Kitranna shook her head. “No.”
They watched her circle overhead for a moment, then she came back down. She alighted on the ground, there was a flash, and she was a woman again.
“How did you do that?” Kitranna asked eagerly, handing her her staff back, which she took.
“It is a skill,” she said. “One any mage with the will and knowledge could learn if they so chose.” she shouldered her pack and pulled her hood up. “The road is clear up ahead,” she informed them.
They began to walk.
“Could you teach me to do that?” Kitranna asked. “How do you start? Do you have any books about it? Can you turn into other animals?”
“So full of questions!” Morrigan exclaimed. “I could teach you, provided you had the will to even make the attempt. I do not have books about it. I do not know that there even are books written on the subject. Yes, if I so chose, there are other animals I could turn into.”
“Like what?”
“A bear. A swarm of flies. A spider.”
“A spider?” Alistair asked, alarmed. “Please tell me not one of the big ones.”
Morrigan smirked. “Yes, one of those. I could do it now, but I do not wish to drop my things.” she looked over at Alistair. “Spiders move much faster than people do, you know.”
“I didn't really need to know that.”
“I met a demon in the Fade who could turn into other things,” Kitranna said.
“Many demons do that.”
“Did you learn it from a demon? Or a spirit?”
“I did not. My mother taught me, and I improved upon the skill myself. I assume your Circle did not wish for you to know the ability?”
Kitranna shook her head. “No.”
Morrigan sighed. “I will teach you, if you have the aptitude.”
The dog came to them on the road outside of the Wilds. It was a large Mabari hound, with brown fur spattered with blood.
Kitranna kneeled down as he came to greet them. Morrigan made a noise of disgust at the smell the dog brought with it, and Kitranna had to admit, he did smell quite strong. With the dog came a group of darkspawn, the first group they had encountered since Ostagar.
The three of them (plus the dog) quickly eliminated the darkspawn, Morrigan turning into an enormous bear and mauling some while Kitranna froze several and burned others, smirking to herself as she did so. It was always satisfying to watch a spell hit home. Alistair, unfortunately, had to make do with the bow and arrow, and only managed to get a few shots in.
“I really need a sword,” he grumbled as soon as the last Darkspawn was killed, turning the bow over in his hands.
Morrigan ambled over to them and turned back into a woman. “Have you no ability to adapt whatsoever?” she demanded of him.
“I can adapt just fine, I'd just do a lot better with a weapon I actually know how to use!”
Kitranna ignored their arguing and kneeled down next to the dog again, gingerly reaching out and touching his head. She vaguely recognized the dog as the one she had helped in Ostagar, bringing the flower to the kennel master to help with his illness.
“I think he's chosen you,” Alistair said, both he and Morrigan turning their attention to Kitranna again. “Mabari are like that. He must have been out here looking for you.”
Morrigan sighed, her face twisted with disgust. “Does this mean we are to have this mangy beast following us around now? Wonderful.”
Alistair leaned down to give the dog a closer look. “Aw, he's not mangy!” he said.
“I don't know how to care for a dog,” Kitranna admitted with a sigh, running her hand over the dog's head. He pushed his head against her hand. “I like him, though.”
“He's done alright so far,” Alistair pointed out. “He'll probably be just fine if he comes with us.”
Morrigan grumbled to herself and folded her arms. They began to move on, the dog trotting along at Kitranna's heel.
“I don't like that we met so many darkspawn here,” Kitranna said. “Are we going to run into the Horde?”
“If we were, we would already have done it,” Alistair said. “Chances are, the Horde'll stay away from the main roads for now, until they've marshaled enough to attack a town. We'll probably be alright, and they don't like daylight anyway.”
“That reminds me,” Morrigan said. “Have either of you given any thought to your plans?”
Kitranna looked at Alistair, who shrugged.
“I...I don't know,” he admitted. “I just want to get to Lothering, then we can plan, alright?” he looked away.
“Hm,” Morrigan narrowed her eyes, but Kitranna didn't push.
"I suppose we can do that," she said.