Morning Star, 3E411 - This Blight is different

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

Anders was thrashing in his sleep.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Solas vanished.

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What others?"

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

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

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


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

...

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

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

"I had help..." Anders smiled.

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

Morning Star, 3E411 - Dreadwolf

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

"You mean swords," Davrin nodded approvingly.

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

Everyone nodded.

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

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

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

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

Everyone nodded.

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But how to prove it?"

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

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

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

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



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

Morning Star, 3E411 - The truth about Tevinter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How?"

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

"Ah-ha!!!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neve made an effort and snapped out of her reverie.

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

Morning Star, 3E411 - A man and his cat

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morning Star, 3E411 - The cold within

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

...

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

There was a knock on the door and Dorian entered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

"I was waiting for the kiss..."

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morning Star, 3E411 - Bonds of the past

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I can walk!" Anders protested.

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

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

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

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

"Finally," he whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anders smiled and kissed him in response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because of the taint?"

"The Blight... yeah..."

Lucanis stroked his face and kissed him.

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

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

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

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

Ha ha okay!

Morning Star, 3E411 - A double agent

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Neve," Lucanis hissed through his teeth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No rush," Lucanis nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

"Hmm..."

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

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

Neve nodded and smiled her most engaging and brilliant smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morning Star, 3E411 - Life in death

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"WHAT?!"

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

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

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

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

"Precisely," Anders smiled.

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

...

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Morning Star, 3E411 - Wardens of old

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It is blighted."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Lucanis won't stay behind."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, I guessed."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


~~~~~~~~

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

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

"Oh why not?" Hauk agrees.

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

topping up her goblet with the better Tamika wine

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

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

Interesting.

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


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

Morning Star, 3E411 - The goddess

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

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

"Blighted boils, I reckon," Anders nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are we dead?" One Warden asked another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

Morning Star, 3E411 - Concussion

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But why?"

"The demon will devour your soul."

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

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

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

"Don't give in."

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

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

"Good grief..!"

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

"I have to go back to find out."

"You already know the answer."

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

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

Dang, where's my bookmark? Ah, here. First Seed 10, 4E 192. Hauk is about to escort Yrseke to a business meeting. "Keep me alive!" Love that.

Meeting is in the sewers! Yikes.

Three against one, yeah, that's really not fair. But really it's going to be three against two.

"I don't believe in fighting with honour, I prefer to win myself" -- Sometimes this is the best way.

Hauk gets seduced by Reesa, whoo. That was a funny scene.


http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=341155

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Nothing is as it seems in the Fade

"But really, Anders, you are not gay and neither is Lucanis. What do you think will happen once the novelty of your relationship will have worn off? You are both confusing friendship with love."

Neve was sitting on a large cushion plucking the strings of a teardrop-shaped guitar. The room was dimly lit and the fog from her waterpipe was hiding the walls. Anders was reclining on more cushions covering a large divan, blowing rings of waterpipe fog of his own.

"Are we confusing it?" He looked at Neve through the fog. "And how do you know all this? And more importantly, why do you care?"

"I've been watching you," She smiled. "You cut an impressive figure, Warden. Quite to my taste."

"Oh?" Anders lifted himself slightly on an elbow. "Are you... chatting me up?" He grinned.

"I am, I suppose," Neve smiled radiantly at him. "I should be the one dancing the tango with you, not Dorian or Lucanis!" She pouted her lips in mock offence.

"Well, we can still dance a tango!" Anders laughed. "I'm sure neither Dorian nor Lucanis would mind. Right after the Blight, at The Gay Vint. It's a date, Neve. Don't stand me up." He was still laughing gently, watching Neve with interest. She focused on her guitar for a while, playing a variation on a traditional song, something that was both familiar and novel at once.

"You killed the goddess," Neve said to her guitar.

"We did," Anders looked up, blowing a thin jet of fog through the rings that were still hanging there.

"Without us," Neve sighed.

"So?" Anders turned, now facing Neve, but still reclining on the divan.

"We are no enemies."

"We are rivals."

"We should not be," Neve shook her head. "I want to get close to you." She put down her guitar and moved to the divan, reclining next to Anders. "Even closer than this..." She pressed herself to him. "What do you taste of?" She put her arms around him and kissed him.

...

"Blood!" Anders sat up in his bed, having woken up in cold sweat. "She tastes of blood!"

He jumped off the bed, realising that Lucanis stayed on the cot in the common room. He wanted to face the Desire Demon in the Fade... and that could be deadly! He was so unprepared... he wasn't a mage, he never faced a demon before... he should not be undergoing a Harrowing! But of course he could not become possessed and turn into an abomination because he already was one... Anders shook his head, trying to steady himself. Was he confusing friendship with love? Who was it that he met just now in the Fade? What kind of a demon..?

Anders got dressed and went to find Alistair. He looked in on Lucanis and breathed with relief finding him sleeping quietly. For the moment he was safe.

"Alistair," Anders touched his shoulder. "Alistair, wake up."

"Hmm..? What time is it..? Huh? Anders? What's up?" Alistair finally woke up, rubbing his face.

"Do you still remember how to be a templar?" Anders touched his shoulder again. "Can you feel it?"

"Feel what?" Alistair sat up. "Your magic always tickles, I feel nothing unusual. What happened?"

"Demons," Anders sounded dead serious. "Demons in the Fade. Not here, no, but we have enough mages that... and Lucanis..." He shook his head.

"Lucanis what?" Alistair was trying to make sense of the half sentences that Anders was uttering. "He is already possessed. And you..? You aren't possessed, I can tell!"

"Lucanis met a Desire Demon in the Fade who's been trying to make him stay there. But he woke up every time against his wishes - the Desire Demon appeared as... well... was successful in making him want to stay. It must be Spite that kept waking him up. Spite, that is, the Spirit of Determination. Lucanis finally remembered the dream and I told him it was a demon. He wants to fight it in the Fade. Do you understand what it means?! He could die! That demon's been feeding on his soul all this time! It's been growing in power! This is dangerous! I've got to help him! Sacrifice someone, open a portal, one person's blood will suffice..."

"STOP!!!" Alistair raised his voice, grabbing Anders by the shoulders with both hands. "Stop right there! You'd NEVER sacrifice anyone! Anders I know is a blood mage, yes, but he gives his own blood to others, not the other way around! What else happened?"

"I think I met a demon in the Fade too," Anders snapped out of his trance. "I just can't figure out what kind. It seemed just like a regular dream... until she kissed me. She tasted of blood..."

"So, that explains your tirade just now," Alistair said in a calmer voice but didn't let go of Anders. "Who was it?"

"Neve," Anders looked him in the eye. "Chatting me up. Wanting to... well. But if it was a Desire Demon, there are so many other women that it could have picked... with immediate success..." He smirked. "So why Neve? And that taste of blood..."

"There's more than one kind of desire," Alistair said softly. "May be it's being subtle?"

"You are a templar, can't you tell? Here's a mage in need of protection," Anders smiled weakly.

"But I cannot sense any demonic influence on you," Alistair looked puzzled. "Are you sure it wasn't the actual Neve?"

"In the Fade..?" Anders looked up. "It is nearly impossible to find another person in the Fade when one is dreaming, so she had to enter it physically, and even then..." He shook his head. "Unless... she had help."

"Solas."

"He can see me, of course... but what is she trying to do?"

"Get you killed, by the looks of it," Alistair smirked. "If you actually went ahead with bleeding someone, I would have to stop you."

"Death by templar."

"You would have been too far gone to listen to reason at that point," Alistair nodded. "I would have to kill you."

"Blood magic messes up the mage's own mind more than anyone else's," Anders nodded. "But Lucanis? What do we do?" He looked worried.

"Lucanis is not a mage; the danger he's facing is just that of battling a powerful demon in its own domain... which is bad enough," Alistair rubbed his chin. "Get Avernus. Come on."

...

Avernus was not in his room. They looked in the infirmary wing but he wasn't there either. Eventually they found him in the courtyard opening a portal to the Fade.

"Lucanis..." he started saying noticing Alistair and Anders approach. His wrists were bleeding badly but there was no sacrificial person involved.

"I am going," Anders looked around for a staff. "You keep the portal open," he nodded to Avernus.

"No, I am going," Alistair picked up a sword and a shield from a rack. "I am a templar. I shall fight that demon."

"Straight through the portal and turn left," Avernus smirked. "Spite is waiting on the other side... his appearance may surprise you..." he shot a glance at Alistair. "Just remember: nothing is as it seems in the Fade."

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Your wish is my command

Alistair stepped through the portal into the Fade and Avernus lowered his arms, letting the portal shrink until it's needed again. Anders was still staring at it, unsure what to do.

"Go sit with Lucanis," Avernus turned to him. "I'll stay here and maintain the portal. Go. Keep Lucanis alive. Help him from here. You know you can."

Anders looked up, snapping out of his indecision and shaking off lingering effects of the blood magic spell that he was subjected to in his dream. Having a purpose always helped to overcome mind manipulation of blood magic, and he now knew exactly what he had to do. Keep Lucanis alive until Alistair slays that demon. Right.

...

"Alistair? You're not whom I expected..." A spirit copy of Lucanis greeted Alistair on the other side of the portal.

"Spite? Or do you prefer Determination?" Alistair squinted. "I am a templar. I am better placed to fight a demon."

"Umm... if you say so..." Spite squinted. "My name is Determination. But Spite is shorter. And... may be not too far from the truth... I'm used to it now..." He was saying in a hissing voice, chopping phrases into chunks. Spirits were not accustomed to talking. He led Alistair to a clearing nearby. "It's just here. Lucanis will appear shortly... Avernus has been shielding him... but he is asleep... he will appear... and so will the demon..."

They didn't have to wait long and indeed Lucanis walked in from the fog. He was not physically in the Fade like Alistair, it was Lucanis' spirit dreaming in the Fade while his body was lying on the cot in the infirmary wing. But he looked solid enough... nothing was as it seemed in the Fade.

"Mathilda?" He called. He did not seem to see Alistair or Spite standing there.


"Luca... my love..." A sweet voice sounded from the other end of the clearing and a Desire Demon walked in.

"Mathilda..." Lucanis took a step back, quite involuntarily.

"This is not how he sees her," Spite hissed. "He sees Mathilda..."

"Who's there?" Lucanis turned towards Alistair and Spite, looking straight at them, yet not seeing them.

"Just someone at the door, my love," the demon responded sweetly. "It will be just a moment..." She walked up to Lucanis and kissed him, caressing him gently. Alistair saw a faint shimmering strand flow from Lucanis to the demon. The demon was feeding on his soul.

She let go of him, but he was still looking at Alistair, or rather, at the spot where he heard voices. He was not yet entranced. The demon said something to him softly, embraced him ever so gently, kissed him... until he stopped looking at the spot where Alistair was standing... The demon led him to the far corner of the clearing, waved her hand and made furnishings appear, and there Lucanis sat down on a sofa waiting for her to "answer the door". He was no longer wondering where the voices were coming from.

"Well, it seems we've got guests," the demon walked over to Alistair and Spite. "Intruders, rather," she frowned. "You are intruding on a private moment."

"You cannot have Lucanis, demon," Alistair said rather aggressively. "I am here to fight you!"

"Oh? But Luca seems quite happy to stay," the demon swayed her hips at him. "He has his Mathilda back... like he could never have in your world," she smirked. "Just look at him," she waved her hand and he waved back from the sofa. "He cannot see you. Now, shoo."

"No!" Alistair shouted, plunging his sword into the ground in a cleansing strike that purged all magic around them. The demon shrieked and jumped up - that hurt. But the strike didn't reach far enough to pull Lucanis out of his trance.

"Insolence!" She cried. "I said out!!!" A powerful lightning bolt sent Alistair reeling but he picked himself up and lunged at the demon with his sword. The demon spun in place and swiped at Alistair, shredding his light armour - the demon's fingernails were now long, razor sharp blades...

"Ugh, I forgot how nasty you Desire Demons can be..." Alistair swore. "But no matter! When was the last time you faced a templar?!" He lunged again, this time cutting a gash on the demon's body, and she responded with another shriek. Yes, he still remembered how to be a templar - each of his strikes depleted magicka as well.

They danced, and it was only after a while that Alistair realised that Spite was no longer standing next to him. Spite did not join in the fight either... where was he? But Alistair had no time to ponder this question as the demon kept attacking. Then suddenly she shrieked when Alistair was himself recoiling... someone stabbed her from behind. Alistair looked up - Lucanis stood there with his sword at the ready.

"You are not Mathilda!" He cried, lunging at the demon. "You deceived me! Merda!"

Two fighters were stronger than one but the demon was more than a match for both of them together. Her spells knocked them back and out, her swipes cut through the remnants of their armour and clothing and were now inflicting serious bleeding... They had to work together if they were to gain an upper hand, but she never gave them a chance to regroup. It very much looked like that demon was going to get two souls for the price of one.

...

"Don't give in," Anders was sitting cross-legged by Lucanis' cot. "She'll get you entranced again... there... I think she already got you... Come on, shake it off!" He put his hand on Lucanis' shoulder sending a healing wave through. He didn't know which spell to use, he acted on an instinct. "You know it's an illusion, I told you. You remembered the dream," he kept talking hoping that somehow some of it might come through. But Lucanis remained motionless and his breathing was slowing - he was dreaming.

...

"This is not good," Alistair was rising heavily from another knock-out. "Those lightning bolts... ugh... they hurt." Yet he took a deep breath and resumed his attacks, trying to match Lucanis' lunges, but Lucanis too was reeling from the bolts. "Just keep going..." Alistair told himself. "Nothing else for it. We'll wear her out eventually..." He thrust his sword into the ground again in a cleansing strike, then pulled it out quickly and lunged at the demon while she was momentarily incapacitated. She shrieked - that was a successful move. "Right. Templars do it all the time," Alistair told himself. "Got to think like a templar. Negate all magic. Slay the mage. Slay the demon!" Another cleansing strike before the demon could cast another spell, and now Lucanis lunged at her at the same time as Alistair. Finally they were working together.

The dance went slightly better from that point on. Lucanis had finally seen Alistair, mostly because Alistair's cleansing strikes caught him in their range a few times and the demon's hold over him began to weaken. Lucanis finally remembered what Anders had told him - it's a demon, don't give in. Mathilda was but an illusion. His heart bled at the thought, he lost her again, and this time it was forever. His Mathilda was not dead but it was worse - she changed, she was his Mathilda no more. Half of him wished he'd never learned that he was living an illusion these past days - he had been so happy again. It was better to die happy than to live in pain. Perhaps the demon would make him forget all that? Perhaps the charm could be restored..?

He stopped attacking and lowered his sword. Alistair shot him a glance and realised the danger. The demon had regrouped. Lucanis was entranced again.

"No! Not on my watch!" Alistair leapt towards Lucanis and plunged his sword into the ground at his feet - that cleansing strike was for Lucanis. It worked, he shook his head, looked at Alistair in bewilderment, looked at his sword...

"Merda! Not again!!" He swore and lunged at the demon, but the demon was expecting it. She parried, swiping at both Alistair and Lucanis with the blades of her fingernails, sending them back again... The dance continued.

...

"She is bleeding you," Anders noticed droplets of blood appearing on Lucanis' hands. He opened his shirt and saw blood on his chest as well. "No, I've got to stop this... I cannot stop this... Look at this... it's all over the body!" Anders started panicking, not knowing how to deal with injuries inflicted from the Fade. "Keep him alive, he says!" He rolled his eyes at what Avernus had told him. "How? I cannot give him my blood, he'd get the taint..!" He jumped up and started pacing the room, surely there must be something he could do...

"Stop panicking," Avernus stood in the doorway. "Yes, yes, the portal is holding," he nodded to Anders' alarmed look. "Use conventional healing. Use potions. Use magic. Be there. That's what I did when you were fighting your demons..."

...

Alistair and Lucanis were now attacking together, standing shoulder to shoulder. That way each of Alistair's cleansing strikes also caught Lucanis and cleared the charm that the demon kept placing upon him. Time and time again Lucanis would shake his head in bewilderment then lunge at the demon again. It was going to be a very long dance.

And then suddenly a large bird swooped down on them all... a griffon... no... a crow... A crow the size of a griffon. It circled once then plunged, dissolving into a devastating blast of lighting just above the demon.

"Ahhh..." The demon sighed, spinning. A luminous sphere appeared around her, then dissolved. She stopped spinning and stood smiling, facing her attackers. The blades on her fingers had retreated turning into fingernails again, her demeanour was peaceful, soothing, appeasing... "You are strong, let us stop the fight..." She said in the sweetest of voices and both Alistair and Lucanis could not resist the compulsion to sheathe their swords. "Ahhh... That's better. My brave warriors. My handsome knights..." She smiled radiantly at them, swaying her hips. "Why should we fight..? Why fight when I can give you exactly what you want and more... give you what you don't know yet that you want... long for..."

"You lie, demon!" Alistair exclaimed, shaking his head. His templar training was now paying off - he was not that easily charmed. "All you want is our souls!"

"But that is such a small price to pay for real happiness, is it not?" She looked at each of them in turn. "Alistair... a king's son, but not quite... a king, but not quite... a templar, but not quite... and now, Commander of the Grey, but not quite the same as the one that came before... ahhh... Would you rather not see at least some of it complete? I can make you a templar, a real one - and all without the lyrium addiction. I can make you a king, if you wish it... but no, that's not it... something is lacking in your life, is it not? Ahhh... you never found love... or rather, you thought you did, but she was a mage and you thought you were a templar, and so, again, not quite..." The demon came close to Alistair and was now almost touching him, her bottomless purple eyes locked with his. "What will it be, Alistair? Templar or lover?"


"Do not give in!" Lucanis shook off his trance and grabbed Alistair by the shoulders. "This is a DEMON!!!"

"Huh?" Alistair's eyes were still glazed over, but he was shaking his head again. "Get off me, demon!!!"

"Ahhh..." The demon sighed and started spinning again. "Such a pity... I do rather prefer peaceful resolutions... but your wish is my command..." She raised her arms incanting a spell and a ball of luminescence started gathering above her head.

"Stand back!!" Alistair grabbed Lucanis by the hand. "It'll wipe us out!!"

"If only Anders was here..." Lucanis was watching the demon's growing orb. "He casts a storm like you wouldn't believe!"

"Anders..." Alistair started saying something but the orb suddenly burst with blinding light pushing them right back into the fog.

"Anders warned me of this," Lucanis was trying to decide whether he was already dead. "You can die in your dream... Anders... How I need you now, my friend..."

"Come on, get up!" Lucanis heard Alistair's voice. "We've been blinded. But we are not dead! Get up!" Someone was tugging on his sleeve. "Up, up you get!!" Alistair was urging him. "Follow my voice! I can sense her! I am a templar! A REAL templar, you hear me, demon?! I am coming for you!!!"

...

Lucanis was thrashing in his cot, even despite the lavender incense that Anders was burning right next to him, despite all the calming magic that Anders poured into him - Lucanis was thrashing to the point that sometimes Anders had to hold him down so that he wouldn't tumble to the floor.

"She really has you fight for it, doesn't she," Anders shook his head. "Well, you're fighting, so you're not charmed, that's something at least... Keep going... I am here... I'll heal your wounds... I'll catch you if you fall... my friend... my lover... my love..." He focused on another healing spell, pouring as much as he could without using blood. "Do not give in!"

...

Alistair charged the demon. He could not see her, everything was erased by an orb of blinding light hovering above them, but he could sense her, her presence, her magic. He was a templar, he did not need eyes to see evil! He suddenly remembered an old templar they met during the Fifth Blight somewhere in the capital. He was almost completely blind, a common affliction resulting from taking lyrium since young age. He was ageing, and his strength was not that of a young man, but his will compensated amply for that. He did not need eyesight to find the demon. "That templar died that day," Alistair sighed to himself. "And he had known from the start he would die... he only hoped he would take the demon with him... and he did... with a little help from us..." He sighed again, all while slashing and slicing at the demon before him without needing to see it. "And this here is my demon, it seems... She came for Lucanis but she met me... Well, hello, darling! Let's dance!"

Lucanis couldn't see the demon either, he too was completely blinded by the orb. He could not sense the demon like Alistair, but he could hear Alistair's grunts and the demon's shrieks and moans, and he tried to hit something in that direction, hoping it wouldn't be Alistair. Which way? He did not know... but something seemed to guide his hand... he lunged and the demon shrieked, he lunged again, and again he hit his target. "Spite?" He reached inside himself and felt his presence. "Is that you? Alright! You don't need eyesight, do you? Together we fight!"

"I guide you, partner..." Spite's voice said inside his head. "Open your wings..."

But Lucanis could not open his spirit wings in the Fade, not being there physically seemed to be the problem. Surely, Spite knew that... spirit wings were Spite, after all... unless he meant something else?

"Anders... Mathilda is gone... Gone from my life, now for good... Gone from my heart... it bled out... I know how you feel, my friend... Bésame, bésame mucho... Que tengo miedo a perderte, perderte despuis..." He lunged and slashed at a streak of purple appearing among all the white, and every time there was a shriek or a moan, he was hitting his target again and again, so then perhaps there was a chance to survive this, to win even, may be despite all odds... "Stay with me... Quiero tenerte muy cerca mirar me en tus ojos verte junto a mi... That wasn't a tango... you still owe me another dance..."

The orb finally started dimming and Alistair and Lucanis found that they had not been permanently blinded. Their vision was returning, but what they saw did nothing to lift their spirits - the demon was still there, still spinning, still fighting... Were they even hurting her?!

"It's an illusion, keep going!" Alistair shouted to Lucanis, noticing his dejected look. "We are hurting her! I can sense it!"

"Anders..! Your storm! We need your storm!!" Lucanis shouted into the void, not expecting anything really, just acting on an impulse... again... "Stay with me..!"

They did not immediately notice a large bird swooping over the clearing, a crow the size of a griffon. It circled once and then dissolved into the mightiest lightning storm they'd ever seen, pushing them back into the fog...

...

"NOOOOO!!!" Lucanis on the cot lost his pulse. "No, no, no! You do not die on me!" Anders jumped up, ripping off Lucanis' shirt in preparation for a heart massage. "Stay - with - me! - Stay - with - me!" He punctuated his movements with a breath between each phrase, he was not going to lose his friend to a demon in the Fade! If only he could be there... demons were weak to lightning... he would whip up the biggest storm they'd ever seen, his wrists were healed, he'd give it his all..! But he was not in the Fade and his friend was lying lifeless on a cot with only his chest compressions keeping his blood circulating... "Stay - with - me! - Stay - with - me..!"

...

"Stay back, demon!!!" A hissing voice ripped through the air, someone was casting more lightning bolts and the demon was shrieking...

By the time Alistair and Lucanis recovered from their knock-out, the mage in the clearing was finishing off the demon.

"Take that!" He hissed one final time and they saw the demon's form go limp and slide to the ground, then dissolve into the Fade without a trace.

"Anders..?" Lucanis stared at the spirit shape of the mage. "What are you doing here..?"

"But I am always here... always with you..." The mage replied with some surprise.

"This isn't Anders," Alistair smiled. "This is Spite in his new human form." He paused as Lucanis and Spite stared at each other. "Time to go," he patted Lucanis on the shoulder. "Avernus must be tired keeping the portal open. And... no one needs to know what that demon was offering... not to you and not to me, right?" He smiled again as Lucanis nodded. "It's all but a dream anyway. Time to wake up, Lucanis."

Alistair watched Lucanis vanish and Spite follow him, then grinned picturing the first time Anders were to see Spite in his new human form... that'd be a laugh! And indeed, no one needed to know what happened that night in the Fade.

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Friends

"That was a hard fight," Avernus greeted Alistair when he stepped through the portal from the Fade. "You look dreadful."

"Yeah... it was pretty tough," Alistair nodded.

"But you were successful."

"Lucanis should be waking up shortly."

"How does it feel - being a real templar?" Avernus asked softly, closing the portal. "Should we mages worry?"

"Of course not," Alistair smirked. "Templars are meant to protect mages from evil, that's how I see it... It's just that sometimes that evil hides in the mages themselves..."

"I see you still remember the good book," Avernus patted him on the shoulder. "If more templars remembered their true purpose, the whole mage-templar war of the past ten years could have been avoided..."

"Which is why I prefer being a Grey Warden," Alistair frowned. "I hate politics."

"The Queen of Ferelden was very happy when you said that... and abdicated your birthright to the throne in her favour."

"Yeah... she was also very happy to learn that Grey Wardens cannot have children," Alistair smirked, returning his sword and shield to the rack and shaking his head at his shredded armour.

"It's best she doesn't know the whole truth," Avernus grinned.

"Like, how many Grey Warden children are serving with us? They have a near immunity to the Joining Cup... having joined at conception already..."

"But none of them are yours," Avernus closed the topic. "Come. We'll find a healer to patch you up... I am too exhausted at the moment."

"How's Anders?" Alistair gave Avernus a long look turning towards the infirmary wing.

"He was panicking last time I saw him... he never treated wounds inflicted from the Fade before... But I have faith in the boy - he will have redressed himself."

"Hardly a boy..." Alistair grimaced. "He's past forty five."

"And I am past three hundred," Avernus objected. "I remember when Wolf brought him in..."

"Point taken," Alistair smiled. "We should look in on him."

They were just coming into the room where Anders was still very anxiously checking Lucanis' pulse every few minutes. He had recovered from his cardiac arrest, but there was no telling what else was to come...

"We're done," Alistair told him. "Lucanis will wake up eventually."

"Thank you!" Anders hugged Alistair tightly to Alistair's great surprise. "But... you look dreadful! Hang on - let me just..." He grabbed his dagger.

"No, Anders, no blood magic today," Alistair stopped him. "You look dreadful too. I'll get another healer. You still have a patient to look after."

Alistair and Avernus left and Anders dropped back to where he'd been sitting - at Lucanis' side, cross-legged by his cot. So, he didn't have to check for pulse every few minutes any more, Lucanis was just sleeping now... exhausted after the fight, no doubt. He would wake up eventually... it's best to let him sleep. Anders put his head on Lucanis' shoulder and his arm across his chest and fell asleep too. It had been one hard night.

...

Several hours later Lucanis woke up. He had a slight headache and his neck felt stiff but otherwise he seemed to be alright. He remembered everything that happened in the Fade, and it didn't feel like a dream. He half-opened his eyes just to make sure that he was definitely back in Mundus. Of course, he already knew that - the smells and sounds of the infirmary wing were unmistakable, but still he had to see it.

The first thing he saw was a blond head resting on his shoulder and a scarred arm across his chest - he couldn't see the rest of Anders, just his head and arm. He was still sleeping. Lucanis smiled to himself, propped his head against Anders and closed his eyes. He'd seen enough.

Another hour or so later Lucanis woke up again. Someone was watching them, he could feel it. He looked around, trying not to move so as not to disturb Anders. No, that someone was standing behind them, he could not see who it was... oh well... no matter. He propped his head against Anders again, burying his face in his hair and closed his eyes. There was no rush.

The lavender incense that Anders was constantly burning by Lucanis' bed, was all used up, and the lack of familiar smell woke him up. He should refill the burner... He sighed, and with that slight movement felt Lucanis' face against his hair. Perhaps he shouldn't move, shouldn't disturb him... But Lucanis woke up too and stirred, and when Anders finally decided to sit up and lift his arm from Lucanis' chest, he found Lucanis' fingers intertwined with his.

"It's done," Lucanis whispered in his ear. "The demon is no more... and with it, also Mathilda."

"That must have hurt," Anders turned his head and found Lucanis' lips.

"You have no idea..."

The infirmary wing was buzzing with conversation around them, healers were going in and out with salves and potions, bandages were being changed, healing magic performed... and they heard none of it. Finally Anders realised that he was still sitting on hard stone floor, and had been sitting in the same position for hours...

"We should get some privacy," he pulled away slightly.

"I have no issues kissing you in public," Lucanis grinned. "Let them watch."

"It's not kissing I'm thinking of..." Anders grinned, his playful smile returning. "But really, I want to get off this stone floor... and you need a bath - you are covered in blood, head to toe."

"Why am I covered in blood?" Lucanis finally realised that his chest was exposed and indeed covered in blood. "What happened to my shirt? I don't walk around with my shirt undone like some slob!"

"You were dead," Anders' voice went hoarse at the recollection. "I was massaging your heart. The shirt was in the way."

"Huh... But I thought... it was just my spirit fighting..."

"It's like I told you - you can die in the Fade," Anders frowned. "I had no idea how to treat injuries inflicted in the Fade... but the demon was bleeding you... What did she have - razor-sharp blades for fingernails? One Desire Demon I fought had blades like that..."

"Blades, yes," Lucanis nodded. "And magic."

"Right," Anders sat up, really pulling away from Lucanis this time. "Come on. There should be hot water down in the kitchens. Hold on to me - you still have a concussion, remember? You can't walk on your own yet."

"Concussion?" Lucanis got up and realised that the world was rocking again, although not spinning. "I had no concussion in the Fade..."

"That's because your concussed head was here in Mundus," Anders smirked. "But now you're back in your body and your concussion."

...

"Ahem," Harding cleared her throat. "Guys? I've got something to tell you."

"Huh? Just how long have you been standing there, Harding?" Anders turned to her, a steaming bath in the middle of the wash room.

"Long enough to..." Harding giggled. "You could have locked the door!"

"I didn't think anyone would just stand and watch!!!" Anders' nostrils flared, but Lucanis was laughing heartily at the scene.

"Next you'll tell us you'd never expected to see a master assassin in quite such a position..." He was finding it hilarious.

"The thought had crossed my mind..." Harding giggled again.

"Alright, alright, you like to watch! You're a scout! It's in the job description!" Anders was still angry and Lucanis thought it was the funniest part.

"Oh never mind," he patted him on the back. "I'm sure she'd seen you in worse settings before..." He laughed again. "I am going to make coffee."

Anders scowled and decided not to tell Lucanis this time to make tea for Harding instead, but Lucanis remembered.

"So, Head Scout," Anders looked sternly at Harding. "What compelled you to find us with all haste?"

"Well, actually..." Harding gratefully accepted a cup of tea from Lucanis. "Actually, it isn't funny at all. Neve means to kill you," she looked at Anders with significance.

"Yeah, I know," Anders nodded, cooling off. "She already tried. Again."

"How..? When?" Harding was taken aback. "She's been at the Keep all this time... I've been watching her door!"

"Blood magic in the Fade," Anders frowned.

"Wow... that's worse than I thought..." Harding looked lost. "I cannot help you there... we dwarves don't dream... never enter the Fade... I cannot watch her in the Fade..."

"It's alright, Lace," Anders said softly. "No one can watch her in the Fade. Solas is helping her. Perhaps I should try to find him myself."

"That is too dangerous," Lucanis shook his head. "Merda! I should have killed Neve ages ago!" It was Lucanis' turn to get angry.

"Then Solas would have simply found someone else," Anders shook his head. "No, leave her be for now. Till the end..."

"Let's hope it's not your end!" Lucanis retorted. "Talk to Dorian... Avernus? Emmrich too, he knows about the Fade and spirits and stuff..."

"Yeah, let's just put an advertisement in the papers!" Anders snapped. "Blood mage looking for an elven god. Catchy."

"Sounds like a dating request," Harding smirked. "But Lucanis is right, you know - you should talk to someone. Solas is not to be trifled with."

"Oh alright..." Anders sighed. "We should include Alistair as well... and Taash..."

"Taash?" Harding looked surprised. "Taash?" She repeated, as if trying to figure it out. "Taash has been at the Keep all this time... following Davrin around, mostly... and... err... why Taash?" She finally asked, having given up trying to solve this riddle herself.

"Taash does dream," Anders looked straight at Harding. "The qunari have their own powerful magic. She's been visiting me... in the Fade. She is our Fade scout. Did she never tell you that? Perhaps she didn't want to hurt your feelings..."

"Oh..." Harding did look upset. "May be she trusts me less than I thought..."

"Nonsense, Lace," Anders said softly. "It's just that... well... the qunari have different customs around love and sex and friendship... and duty... And even though Taash was brought up in Rivain... she is still a qunari, she follows the Qun. Perhaps you should talk to Dorian about his discoveries with The Iron Bull... and I don't mean the sex part."

"Looks like we all have something to discuss," Harding nodded and Anders thought he saw a tear in her eye. "I'll return to the Keep... I might talk to Dorian on the way... I'll send Taash over..." She got up, throwing one last glance at Anders and Lucanis, still completely naked. "I won't join you for the big discussion, that'd look suspicious," she said matter-of-factly. "But I hope Taash will fill me in afterwards..." She sighed.

"She will," Anders got up and walked over to Harding, then dropped to one knee and hugged her. That way his face was level with hers, his face rather than his midriff. "Friends?" He looked at her and smiled.

"Friends," she smiled back, and this time Anders was sure he saw a tear in her eye.

"What about Varric?" Anders suddenly realised that Varric, being a dwarf, would have the same issue as Harding of not being able to follow things in the Fade. "Does he even know what Neve is doing?"

"That... is a very good question," Harding smiled brightly. "That I can find out!" Her mood visibly improved. "Right! I never thought of following him! Oh! I'll let you know!" She smiled again and ran out of the room.

Lena and Hauk, heading to Arenthia (or so Hauk thinks). Which is Valenwood, if I'm not mistaken.



Several years?

Yea, Hauk's tale of Reesa is pretty darn wretched! Until next time.

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - No quiero perderte nunca despues

"You're upset, aren't you?" Lucanis watched Anders close and lock the door after Harding had left, then walk over to the bath tub. "Harding upset you."

"Yes," Anders nodded without turning around. "She just stood there and watched..." He smirked. "I didn't think anyone here would do that."

"She was intruding and she knew it," Lucanis nodded.

"It wasn't what we did..." Anders faced him. "It was how we did it... That was for you only."

"But you forgave her..."

"And you laughed it off... I could see through it, you know."

"Harding is an ally, but not a friend."

"Quite," Anders nodded. "That's why there was nothing to forgive. It was not an offense but a disappointment." He turned back to the bath tub and resumed washing off the traces of their love making. "She will never become a friend."

"I wonder..." Lucanis took the other side of the bath tub. "I wonder how Taash sees Harding..."

"Well, they are 'an item', as we used to say when we kids," Anders smirked. "But the qunari don't equate sex with love and friendship, and Harding should remember that."

"Humans don't always equate it either," Lucanis grinned. "Mostly we don't equate it."

"Let me rephrase: for us love leads to sex, for the quanari it doesn't. In fact, they are taught to keep it completely separate. I don't know how closely Taash follows this teaching... but I fear Harding might be misunderstanding the nature of their relationship from Taash's point of view." Anders finished washing and picked the largest towel from the stack.

"Was that what Dorian discovered on his own experience?" Lucanis finished washing too and eyed Anders' towel with envy - there were no big ones left.

"Dorian was just playing, to start with," Anders nodded. "It was a game, it was for fun... then I think it got a bit more serious for him, but not for The Iron Bull... Bull explained it to me once: he could never become emotionally involved with Dorian because of sex... It sounds bizarre to us but such are their traditions."

"And Dorian had to accept it, of course," Lucanis threw off the towel and proceeded with getting dressed. "This shirt is covered in blood... these trousers also... on the inside..."

"Well, you were covered in blood, that's why we came here," Anders looked up. "There should be a clean robe in the chest... there's usually something."

"I don't wear robes!" Lucanis scowled. "But I suppose it will have to do..." He pulled on the robe and dropped his shirt and trousers into the tub to wash. "So I suppose Dorian was upset when The Iron Bull turned on you all in that fight I heard about?" He picked up their conversation again.

"If he was, he didn't show it," Anders mused. "He killed Bull without hesitation."

"He must have been very hurt," Lucanis decided.

"Dorian never spoke of it, although some people had to ask. Dorian is a very private person."

"Of course, being gay in Tevinter..."

"The only kingdom in Thedas where gay marriage still doesn't exist."

"Bizarre, really," Lucanis shrugged. "I mean, what's the big deal?"

"Dunno," Anders finally unwrapped himself out of the towel and decided to get dressed. "But he's had difficulties at the Magisterium because of that. It is only slightly worse than blood magic... imagine that! And then, when everyone finally had to accept an openly gay Magister, he had to go and buy a blood mage for a slave - me! That put him right back in the centre of unwanted attention."

"Is that why you slept in his bedroom for weeks on end?" Lucanis shook his head at the blood stains on his shirt and trousers that weren't easily coming out.

"The problem is that you cannot prove that you are not doing something. The only thing you can do is try to prove that you are doing something different," Anders nodded, examining his own robe and tossing it into the bath tub to wash. "The suspicion was that he bought a blood mage so that this mage could bleed a few slaves for him to augment his power without Dorian himself having to perform a blood magic ritual... keeping his hands clean, so to speak."

"Disgusting," Lucanis grimaced. "That's worse than doing it yourself."

"Exactly. So the other option was sex... I mean, why else would he buy a blondie like myself?" Anders grinned. "Blonds are not common in Tevinter."

"And of course you being a man, that fits," Lucanis agreed.

"Besides, Dorian doesn't have a permanent partner... so there's always talk that he might be open to marriage one day... To marry a woman, that is. He is a very rich man, and plenty of women wouldn't give monkeys for his preference, as long as they get to his gold..."

"It's always the same, isn't it?" Lucanis looked up from his washing. "Money and power."

"So yeah, he asked me if I would consider doing him a favour... pretending that we were intimate. Of course I obliged. I was coming and going at first, just so that the servants would see us enough, but then someone sent The Crows after me..." he grinned. "And then Dorian insisted I moved into his suite permanently to be protected by his bodyguards. It turned out a good precaution, too."

"Plus the bodyguards could join in the gossip," Lucanis smirked.

"For sure..." Anders laughed, looking up. "Sometimes they'd have to check on us as well..." he winked.

"Didn't Dorian get cross with them for that?"

"He did, and they stopped." Anders gave up trying to wash out a stain left by his potion belt. "I'll need to get a new robe when this is over... these stains don't come out."

"What - you just have the one robe?" Lucanis looked up in surprise.

"Yep... I normally just wear some Grey Warden stuff... never had the coin for clothes..."

"We'll have to change that," Lucanis rinsed out his shirt and trousers decisively. "I think you deserve a few gifts."

"When I was younger..." Anders smiled. "I had a pretty golden earring," he fingered his earlobe. "Then we got into a fight with some darkspawn, they slashed at my ear and I lost it. Wolf gave me a new one later... just as pretty. I had that one for a long time, but then we got taken into a darkspawn prison and, well, I guess darkspawn like gold too... because it vanished. I never replaced it..."

"I can see you still wearing it," Lucanis said softly.

"Yeah..."

Anders focused on washing his robe for a while, and splashing water made his face wet.

"Dorian is a very private person, you know," he returned to their conversation. "You can lie naked next to him and still feel your privacy respected. I just don't know how he does it."

"He doesn't stand and watch?" Lucanis offered.

"Makes you appreciate your friends more when something like this happens," Anders agreed. "We should see how he's doing. And Alistair. Alistair looked dreadful when he came out of the portal..."

"Alistair is a real templar," Lucanis straightened out his shirt on the washing line by the fire. "He could sense that demon even when we both were blinded. Went right for it! I've never seen a templar at work... impressive!"

"I always knew he's a real templar, even when he doubted it," Anders nodded, rinsing out his robe. "It doesn't take lyrium addiction to be one. They are taught to sense magic... they've got the cleansing strike... if that's not magic, then I'm a toad," he smirked. "Magic has many forms... they are just never told that. Wolf believed that everyone has magic... to a varying degree - that's what they believe where he's from. And it makes sense, you know... we all go to the Fade to dream..."

"Don't remind me," Lucanis shook his head. "I've had enough of the Fade to last me a lifetime..." He watched Anders hang up his robe on the washing line. "Done? Then before we go, there's something I need to show you... while the door is locked."

"Oh?"

"If it wasn't a temporary effect..." Lucanis rubbed his chin in doubt. "Then we'll both find out. Here... Spite, show yourself!"

There was some movement of air and a spirit form of a man in a robe appeared in the room.

"It's still the same..." Spite hissed.

"What?!" Anders stared at him. "You are me?!"

"No, I am I but I look like you," Spite shook his head. "For some reason."

"Come on, you know why this happened," Anders squinted at him. "What did you do?"

"It's what you did, not I," Spite contradicted. "Kept pouring magic into him..." He jerked his head at Lucanis.

"Healing magic..." Anders wasn't convinced.

"I think I did this..." Lucanis watched Spite for a while, then stood next to Anders. "I called to you... a few times... Bésame, bésame mucho... Remember that song?" He sang the start of it. "But no... let's change it... No quiero perderte nunca despues..."

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - A god's way

"Well, hello, Fen'Harel," an elf walked up to the invisible wall that's been locking Solas in his prison in the Fade. "This prison is superbly designed, I must say," he smirked. "No miscalculations this time."

"What do you want, Elgar'nan?" Solas scowled.

"Oh, nothing, I just thought I'd come and say hello to an old friend," Elgar'nan smiled pleasantly. "Because we used to be friends... ahhh... such a long time ago... Don't you remember, Fen'Harel?"

"I remember," Solas nodded. "I remember it all... how you betrayed us all, All-Father, how you turned on your people, enslaved them... God of Vengeance! But what did your people ever do to you?"

"They turned out to be inferior," Elgar'nan said with disdain. "Not worthy of being elves. They were only good for one thing - obedience."

"You made them this way!" Solas replied hotly. "With your endless retributions! You know no mercy!"

"Mercy is a miscalculation," Elgar'nan smirked. "The word you like very much. Because Fen'Harel does not err but occasionally makes a miscalculation. You killed our people when you created the Veil. It is far worse than 'enslavement', as you call it."

"I miscalculated, true," Solas looked down. "But you are wrong - I err, I recognise that I err. Miscalculations, mistakes, errors - call them what you like, they all have one thing in common: my intent is always pure, which cannot be said about yours."

"Are you quite sure?" Elgar'nan squinted. "Or perhaps are you again mistaken? They call me All-Father for a reason. Between Mythal and myself, we are the elves. All elves come from us. Even you."

"That's rubbish, Elgar'nan, and you know it," Solas grimaced, spitting out the words. "You are not a god! I am not a god! Mythal was not a goddess! We were all created along with this world, the Fade, Mundus, everything. You cannot claim creation!"

"Ahhh, there is the old fire of Fen'Harel!" Elgar'nan laughed. "I was wondering what would bring it out. How is dearest Mythal? It's been a long time since I've heard from her... I miss her so."

"Mythal... is no more." Solas said with a fallen voice and turned away.

"Really?" Elgar'nan came as close to the invisible wall as he could. "I cannot believe you killed your mistress."

"I have."

"Well... actually I lied: I can believe you killed her." Elgar'nan walked back a little. "We warned her of your treachery, but a heart in love does not listen... whatever she saw in you, I never knew."

"Yeah... killing her is perhaps my greatest regret."

"So, what now, Solas?" Elgar'nan looked stern. "You changed your name... ever since you started that rebellion... three hundred years of war... The elves were destroyed by it! And then the humans came, and we could not defend our lands because there wasn't much of us left! And all for what?! Freedom? What freedom do they have now?"

"Things have gone far worse under humans than they'd ever been under the Evanuris," Solas admitted. "But how could we have known that humans would come?"

"You did not need to know that," Elgar'nan objected. "You should have stopped the war after the first hundred years or something! It was clear already then that the war was destroying the people! But no! Solas proved true to his new name!" He scowled. "I wonder how many know what it means. Solas. Pride. Personally, I preferred Fen'Harel. I like wolves."

"Have you come to torment me, Elgar'nan? Is this your vengeance?" Solas looked up, his face torn.

"Actually, no," Elgar'nan replied in a calmer tone. "I came to see whether you were indeed locked up in a prison, and it does look that way. What would bring it down? The death of Ghilan'nain and myself, no doubt? Well, Ghilan'nain is already dead... killed by your puppet!" He scowled. "And I'm next in line, of course. But your Warden will be surprised when he meets a real Old God..."

"Anders is not my puppet," Solas scowled too. "Anders is an arrogant brat who listens to no one and acts without thinking! I am here because of him! It is all his fault!"

"Is it now?" Elgar'nan laughed out loud. "I would have liked to see that! I mere human spoiling Fen'Harel's ritual! But of course I could not see it because I was imprisoned at the time!" He glared at Solas. "That previous prison wasn't as perfect as this one and Ghilan'nain and I were already making cracks in it... Then suddenly it crumbled and here we are! But the world has changed in the meantime."

"Oh yes, the world has changed..." Solas sighed. "My plan was however to restore it! To restore it for the elves!"

"And to destroy it for the humans, no doubt? Eh, Fen'Harel? Is that why the humans got up in arms and did everything they could to stop you? And even succeeded?"

"Well, yes, sacrifices had to be made," Solas nodded. "Yes, alright, the world they know would have been destroyed. Everyone except the elves would have been dead but..."

"No buts!" Elgar'nan interrupted him. "Don't you dare to rebuke my retributions! They never included destruction of a whole world!"

Solas and Elgar'nan stood there, glaring at one another.

"We're both ancient elves," Solas said softly. "And unless we work together to eliminate all humans, we will be two dead ancient elves. We aren't immortal, you know."

"Work together? I've heard that before," Elgar'nan spit. "No, Fen'Harel. You are probably right, but I cannot trust you. No."

They stood silent for a while, eyes locked, continuing the conversation in their thoughts.

"Then we shall likely both be dead," Solas finally said. "You can kill Anders, but another Warden will rise where he falls. You can kill all Wardens, and someone else will pick up their banner. They are more united than we ever were. That's why we lost."

"I see... so your Final Solution was exactly that..." Elgar'nan said softly. "Cleanse Mundus and open it to the Fade again... all races except elves will die... That's genius, Fen'Harel. Crude and cruel, but genius still... Too bad it can no longer be done."

"Oh but it can," Solas looked up. "Even if we don't work together. The Blight..."

"Ahhh..." Elgar'nan laughed softly. "Ghilan'nain's pet project... Gone entirely out of hand... It's a disease now, Fen'Harel, have you not seen it? It no longer obeys its creator... Yes, Ghilan'nain could still alter it, she thought she could control it... but no... no one controls the Blight. We should be fighting it, not letting it consume the world!" He added in anger. "The Blight does not discriminate! It consumes every living being and every race, elves included!"

"I realise it now, yes," Solas nodded.

"A bit too late, wouldn't you say?" Elgar'nan glared at him. "First you give your key to the Golden City to one ancient darkspawn lord, you help him make a giant hole in the Veil so that demons inundate Mundus, you practically push him to take over the world and merge it with the Fade... and then when the lord dares to think for himself and discovers red lyrium, you join the Inquisition and make out yourself as the hero of the day! Pah!"

"That was another miscalculation..."

"Oh, keep your excuses to yourself!" Elgar'nan spit. "Solas. The one thing that Pride can never accept is that others may have a will of their own!"

"What are you going to do, Elgar'nan?" Solas raised his voice. "You have a plan of your own, I know you! And it won't be anything short of destroying Mundus, either. So stop lecturing me!"

"I have no plan to destroy Mundus, no," Elgar'nan replied calmly. "I actually want the Veil to stay intact. The Blight will do the destruction and I want to be safe from it in the Fade."

"And?" Solas didn't believe Elgar'nan.

"And from there..." Elgar'nan smiled. "Do you remember the Forgotten Ones? They aren't exactly forgotten. Not by me, that is. I don't know yet, is the answer. I only just escaped from an eternal prison," he smirked. "The Blight cannot be controlled but it can be exploited. How and to what end, I do not yet know. I just need... to rest a while... to gather my thoughts..." He paused, watching Solas. "But there is a problem with it, isn't there? As long as I am alive, you are locked in this prison. Ah. You understand now why I do not believe that working with you would do me any good."

Solas did not reply, there was nothing more to say. The cards lay bare. Solas needed Elgar'nan dead, and therefore Elgar'nan needed Solas dead in turn, as impossible as it appeared.

...

"Ugh," Anders sat up in bed, he'd had another nightmare. He stretched for his Conscription Ale and swallowed several gulps. He shook his head and got up. Lucanis woke up too but didn't need to ask what happened - he already knew the signs. He got up and started making coffee.

"It's almost dawn, the Wardens will start waking up shortly," he said, looking out of the window.

"The Wardens are probably already awake," Anders smirked. "I bet most of them had the same dream as I - Solas and Elgar'nan talking. Too bad I couldn't catch more of what was said."

"I thought it was only the Blight that gave you nightmares," Lucanis squinted. "And we killed that Blight Mistress."

"And the nightmares lightened up a lot since then," Anders nodded. "I am not exactly sure why I'm hearing these two... hmm... it didn't seem like either of them was talking to us..."

"Perhaps they are unaware that you can hear them?"

"Perhaps... but unlikely," Anders wasn't convinced. "I'll need to talk to the others. The older Wardens, they'll know. Avernus too."

Lucanis nodded. That was Warden business and he wasn't a Warden. That was the line in the sand between Anders and him.

...

Anders walked into the room with three old Wardens - Linus, Markus and Roderik. All three of them were awake, as Anders had expected. But most other Wardens seemed to sleep peacefully.

"The dream?" Anders looked at them.

"Not everyone, it seems," Roderik looked around. "Only older Wardens... so it takes a certain level of taint... You should not have had it."

"I light up in the Fade..." Anders smirked. "Solas has a connection to me, whether he knows of it or not. It seems it was made when I interrupted his ritual... He can always locate me, and perhaps this is why I had the dream."

"Did you hear what they were saying?" Markus moved closer, he didn't want to raise his voice and disturb those that were still asleep.

"Elgar'nan wants the Veil to stay intact so that he could withdraw into the Fade and gather his thoughts and his strength," Anders summarised. "But Solas needs him dead in order to destroy the prison he's in. For this reason Elgar'nan wants Solas dead, although it is unclear how to achieve it."

"And the Blight?" Linus didn't think that was all.

"Don't know, didn't catch it," Anders shrugged. "They didn't say anything directly about it... but I have a feeling they both can manipulate it."

"Which is why we are hearing them," Linus nodded. "Which means that for us, each of them is like an Archdemon."

"So then the plan remains the same: kill Elgar'nan, then kill Solas. Two Archdemons to go," Anders agreed. "But wait... something has changed. Elgar'nan can no longer hide from us."

"Neither can an Archdemon, and yet with every Blight it is the Archdemon who comes to the Wardens and not the other way around," Roderik reminded him. "We may sense him but we cannot reach him unless he comes to us."

"It's a game of cat and mouse," Linus agreed. "We prepare and wait. What has changed is that now we know that he is coming."

Ah, so that's the guy in Two Worlds. Hauk himself, eh? Not sure if the guy has some other name in TW. But that's Hauk as portrayed in Two Worlds, neat.

Hauk now has an audience as he continues the story of Reesa.

Holy [censored], look at Riverhold. That's gotta be a fun place to explore, wow. And look at Grand Castle Hall! And the Mages Guild is here too, very cool.





http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=341328

It's a bit odd in Two Worlds. The main character is the same in I and II, so he has a back story. But we don't know his name... I played two games with him, and I still don't know who he is! I gave him a name, of course.

But Hauk's game is different - he is not doing the main quest as such. He is a mercenary, so he's focusing on side quests and exploration "not by the rules". Note that the game is unmodded, but there are ways to do things that developers didn't block well enough... So this way Hauk is a different person in the same land.

Hauk now has an audience as he continues the story of Reesa.


Yeah, and all the shirtless Khajiit too. Keep on reading.

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - A first time for everything

"I think I did this…" Lucanis watched Spite for a while, then stood next to Anders. "I called to you… a few times… Bésame, bésame mucho… Remember that song?" He sang the start of it. "But no… let’s change it… No quiero perderte nunca despues…"

Anders stood transfixed. Spite, the spirit possessing Lucanis, had a new human appearance - that of Anders. Spirits had no control over their appearance in Mundus, that had to come from the person they were possessing - in this case Lucanis. But to change the spirit's appearance was no simple magic. There was no spell or ritual for it - that came directly from the soul. Which meant...

Emotion rose in Anders' heart and overflowed it. He was finding it hard to breathe. Tears were just at the back of his eyes, tears of some new and unknown quality... Anders never felt like that before. He was looking into Lucanis' eyes and drowning in their depths.

"For me?" Lucanis was looking into Anders' eyes in turn. "Am I your first?"

"I... yes..." Anders finally managed to take a breath. "Never before..."

"I know the signs... Mathilda..." Lucanis smiled softly. "I felt like this for her. But I feel no less for you now - may be more. More intense, more mature... And of course, you are my first, too."

"Always women before, eh?" Anders smiled. "Just like me... with one exception. You know."

Anders finally regained some measure of control and realised that his legs felt weak. He took a step towards Lucanis and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Lucanis responded by taking Anders in a tango grip, and just as well, there was no longer any danger of Anders falling.

"Dorian - yes?" Lucanis spoke very softly as there was no need for loud words. "You owe me nothing. Exclusivity is not required..."

"But it is given... the same as you," Anders smiled.

"Ah... no... Mathilda - or rather the demon impersonating her... I wasn't dreaming."

"Mathilda doesn't count, she's from the past. She's a part of you..."

"She was, yes... That demon killed her..." Lucanis sighed. "I think I am still grieving."

"You don't need to make any promises."

"Dorian is very fond of you... He would like to see more of you, I am sure. I am not stopping you... if you feel the same..."

"No, it's... different," Anders smiled. "Before Dorian men were never for pleasure. They were for coin or for pain or both... or just because as young lads my friend and I couldn't get girls to do it with..." He smirked. "But we both hated doing it with each other... So I always hated having sex with men."

"But..."

"You kissed me first," Anders pointed out. "You started it."

"I didn't know what I was doing, I admit," Lucanis laughed. "I still don't understand how it happened... I just... wanted to kiss you... and I did..." He kissed Anders softly. "I never kissed a man before, and never wanted to."

"I never wanted to before either," Anders pressed his forehead against Lucanis. "Perhaps this is what they call a mid-life crisis. We're the right age for it."

"Do you believe in such nonsense?" Lucanis laughed. "I don't. We're just... whatever..."

Their next kiss lasted forever... or at least this was how it felt.

"Dorian tells me you asked him for sex... so I assumed it was because you enjoyed it..." Lucanis returned to the one point that was puzzling him. "But if in fact you didn't normally enjoy it... then... were you trying to change your mind?" He pulled back a little and looked Anders in the eye.

"Dorian is a very gentle person," Anders nodded. "If anyone could change my mind, it would be he. Or you. But I didn't know if you wanted to go as far as that."

"And so... you did it for me..." Lucanis' heart skipped a beat. He usually held his emotions in an iron grip, but now they were getting out of control. His heart felt heavy, it was overflowing.

"Just in case you wanted it... I wasn't going to offer or suggest..."

"And you didn't... I did... Not knowing what I was starting again..." Lucanis' voice sounded hoarse, emotion was cutting his breath.

"Always in control..."

"It's an illusion... I am easily tricked by a clever mage."

"We do what we can to get people into compliance," Anders smiled. "I promised not to do it again."

"I know, I'm just teasing you..."

This time it was Anders who started the next kiss. Lucanis wasn't always leading.

"And now? Where do we go from here?" Lucanis pulled away when his heartbeat started to overwhelm him. "We have a Blight to fight..."

"The Blight can wait..." Anders stroked his hair. "I am not about to ignore this... feeling... I may not live past the Blight... none of us may live past this Blight... So let's forget it for today..."

After another kiss they both decided that the wash room was not the most romantic place in the fortress, and besides they were getting hungry. They unlocked the door and stepped into the kitchen hoping to find something to eat. Evka was stirring in a pot over the fire.

"We've got stew," she shot them a glance. "You look like you could eat. You also look very tired, both of you - I've heard of the bad night you've had. Alistair and Avernus are both exhausted..." She stopped talking when she noticed their baffled looks. "You... ah," she smiled. "Hello, love birds, have some stew!" She sat two bowls of stew on the table. "Oh, don't mind me," she grinned. "I welcome another couple around! Antoine and myself being the only couple here... it hasn't always been straightforward," she sighed. "But at least we no longer have to lock the door - everyone learned to knock by now." She watched them sit down at the table and start eating without a word. "But you locked the door... why? I didn't think Fereldens locked their doors..." She looked at Anders.

"Someone stood and watched," Lucanis grimaced.

"Who?!" Evka frowned. "Who needs to be taught manners again?!"

"No one from here and not a Warden," Anders gave her a long look.

"Ah," Evka sighed. "Well, if any one of ours give you grief... you just let me know!" She said forcefully.

"Sounds like you've had trouble with that," Anders touched the topic hoping that Evka would stop talking about them.

"Well, no, not really. I mean, nothing besides the usual Elf and Dwarf jokes," she smirked. "Which is complete nonsense, really... Antoine is an Orlaisian elf... he's half the size of an average human... he's still taller than me, but not like you're taller than me..." She shook her head. "He took those jokes personally though... An elf in love with a dwarf - that's a theoretical impossibility, they said..."

"That's a cruel thing to say," Anders looked up. "And untrue, of course."

"Yeah... he took it badly at first..." She sighed again and turned away to stir the stew for a while.

"How long has it been now? A few years, I reckon..."

"A few years, yes... But I still see it before my eyes as if it is happening all over again... Such things don't leave you... The Blight is... forever etched in your mind..." Evka left the stew pot alone and sat down at the table. "A caravan was attacked by darkspawn, some people killed, others wounded, and not just a little... We were nearby and responded... Cleared the darkspawn, tended to the survivors... Took them to the nearest village... Antoine was so badly hurt, he had to be carried. The village didn't have a healer, so we stayed a while. And then... the usual," she looked at Anders. "Some die, some survive, some..." She looked away.

"...are in so much pain, they want to be dead," Anders finished her sentence. "Yeah... I know the requests."

"I bet you do," Evka smiled. "Jacques didn't make it... Another elf, he asked to join us... he was dying, the blight spread throughout his body, so quickly... I was wondering whether he'd been blighted already before the attack, but I never asked..."

"Jacques' sacrifice will not be forgotten," Anders said solemnly. "Did you make a record?"

"Of course," Evka nodded. "Antoine watched him die... It's never easy to watch, and it's worse when it's your friend..."

"That isn't an easy death."

"No..." Evka sighed and paused, looking at Anders and Lucanis in turn. Lucanis was listening without saying anything. "Antoine's blight was spreading quickly too," she continued. "Too quickly... I wonder if it was some new variant already..." She shook her head. "We did what we could to slow it down, but..."

"...it's pointless..."

"...yeah..."

"Then Antoine asked to join us too?" Anders prompted her to continue.

"He did, and of course we would never refuse," she nodded. "He made it. His blight receded, it was again... remarkable to see... never seen it retreat like that..."

"Antoine has unusually keen senses, it must be because of this strange new blight," Anders suggested.

"Or because he's paying attention," Evka smirked. "He is actually listening to the song... I mean, he doesn't just hear it, he is listening to it... while the rest of us are trying to block it..."

"...unsuccessfully..."

"I blame the song for the lot of it," Evka laughed. "He actually loves me... Me!" She rolled her eyes. "Evka of Dust Town... castless..."

"Don't say that," Lucanis interrupted her softly. "Warden Evka."

"You see past the cast too..." She gave him a long look. "You haven't spent much time in Orzammar, have you..?"

"I have not been allowed in," Lucanis shook his head. "Antivan Crows..."

"Of course," Evka nodded. "Well... Antoine's never been to Orzammar either..."

"So he saw you for who you are," Lucanis continued in a soft voice. "The same as we see you..."

"Antivans..." She laughed. "You have a way with words, you do..." Then, turning to Anders, she added: "He's a handful... the same as Antoine..." She jerked her head at Lucanis. "They worm their way into your heart and never leave..."

...

"Alistair?" Anders pushed the door of Alistair's room. "Are you asleep?"

"I was but you woke me up," Alistair sat up. "Nah... I'm just teasing you," he grinned. "What are you two doing up?" He looked at Anders and Lucanis in turn. "You don't look like you've had enough rest yet."

"We are here checking on you, thanks," Anders shook his head and came closer to have a good look at Alistair's bandages. "You've taken some scrapes."

"Nothing I haven't had before," Alistair dismissed it. "It was... a tough fight," he admitted looking at Lucanis. "But we won. It's done. What happens in the Fade..."

"...stays in the Fade," Anders nodded. "Very well."

Anders was satisfied, leaving Alistair in the care of the other healers. He wasn't the Chief Healer of course, there was no such thing... but he took his duties seriously. Being a healer was a calling, after all.

"Emmrich? Dorian?" Their room was next. "How are things? Sorry I couldn't come check on you sooner..."

"We are fine, really," Emmrich smiled, looking up from his book. "We're not being left out. You've had other fish to fry."

"I... was busy," Anders nodded. Still, he made it a point to check Emmrich's bandages which weren't many, while Emmrich kept his eyes on Lucanis.

"You look much better, Lucanis," he finally said. "You seem at peace with the other spirit inside you."

"We made peace, yes," Lucanis nodded. "And... well... I suppose you can sense it... He changed... for the better, I think," he smiled.

"Spirits do take on change," Emmrich now looked at Anders. "And it isn't always peaceful. I can only imagine the kind of turmoil you must have gone through with Justice..."

"What..?" Anders was taken by surprise. "Oh... Well, he's out." That was all that Anders was going to say on the subject and Emmrich didn't ask any further questions - as curious as he was about it, he also did not want to pry. After all, Emmrich's interest was merely professional, while for Anders it was a deeply personal matter.

Dorian was watching them from his bed, keeping a large book on his lap even when Anders walked over to him.

"I'm fine too," he said cheerfully. "Just minor scrapes." However, Anders saw through it.

"What's under the book?" He looked at Dorian sternly. "No, wait..." He came closer. "Oh no..." Of course, he could sense it.

"I'm afraid so," Dorian smiled with sadness and removed the book. Black veins were visible under the gauze of the bandage across his leg. "I hadn't seen it coming. A tentacle."

"Damn..." Anders quickly removed the bandage to see the full extent of the blight. "It's spreading quickly," he said with worry.

"Actually, no, it's much better now than it was yesterday," Dorian looked up. "Avernus has been treating it... Remarkable, really."

"He didn't tell me..."

"You were busy," Dorian pointed out. "You had quite enough on your plate already... How's that blood magic spell affecting you? Worn off by now, I trust? Any side effects? I know a thing or two about being subjected to such spells..."

"Yes, but... No, I'm the healer here!" Anders shook his head. "I'm the one asking questions," he smiled. "You know it cannot be cured, right? Avernus can delay it, slow it down..."

"But he cannot free me from the grip of the Blight, I know," Dorian became serious. "However, his treatment is effective at keeping it stable. There's no time for melancholy now, or for life-changing decisions like joining the Grey Wardens. I'll be fine for now. We keep fighting, we defeat this Blight, and then we'll see how much pain I'm in... and whether I'm ready to drink anything to stop it, such as Archdemon's blood..."

"Well..." Anders sighed, taking a small step back. "It's..." He shook his head, then leaned over to Dorian and hugged him tightly. "Whatever you need..." He said in his ear. "I am here for you."

"Shhh... I am not dead yet," Dorian waited for the emotion in Anders to ebb before pulling away slightly. "I'm still with you in this fight, like before. Nothing has changed."

Anders started protesting that everything had changed, but Dorian silenced him with a kiss.

"We'll dance another tango at The Gay Vint when this is over," he smiled. "Let's just focus on that."

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Spirits

"Hello, blood mage," someone said behind Anders' back making him spin around. "You do light up in the Fade," the person smirked.

"Elgar'nan," Anders recognised him. "What do you want?"

"Oh my, you are abrupt, Solas didn't lie," Elgar'nan laughed. "Don't be alarmed, I just want to tell you a few things, nothing more... It is in your interest, as well as mine."

"Alright, I'm listening." Anders folded his arms.

"Just like that?" Elgar'nan sounded surprised. "No protests? No tantrums? Disappointing, really."

He waited for Anders to respond but Anders just stood there, saying nothing.

"Well... that is rather boring," Elgar'nan scowled. "To business then. I suppose you overheard me talking to Solas... you and a few other Grey Wardens... I should have realised you'd be able to hear us... oh well. Which is why I am here. As a Grey Warden, your duty is to stand against the Blight, yes? Not against ancient elven gods as such, am I correct? I know I am," he said without waiting for Anders to reply. "And yes, both Solas and I can influence the Blight... to a certain extent. Ghilan'nain created it, and even she could not control it. But she is dead now, thanks to you. That I understand - you stand against the Blight, you kill its creator. I even understand why you had to kill my dragon... it was an Archdemon, of course. But I am not one, I do not lead the Blight."

Elgar'nan paused again, perhaps expecting a reply, and again Anders said nothing.

"So, before you Grey Wardens decide whom to kill next, you should get your facts straight." Elgar'nan looked Anders in the eye. "Solas is not as innocent as he likes to appear. You need to learn about him. Feel free to learn about the rest of us as well, while you are at it. You have someone with you who can talk to spirits - that Nevarran necromancer. Take him to the Arlathan Forest - the Veil is very thin there, you can practically walk in and out of the Fade. Seek out Elven ruins, seek out Tevinter ruins, ask yourself why Tevinter ruins look so Elven... Ask your necromancer - he should find a lot of spirits there willing to tell you what really happened a thousand years ago, and more importantly what had been happening for three hundred years before humans arrived. That's all I ask. Educate yourself before making your next mistake." Elgar'nan smirked. "See you later, blood mage."

He waved and vanished.

...

Anders woke up with a start.

"Another nightmare?" Lucanis opened one eye - it was the middle of the night.

"Not too bad, this one," Anders shot him a glance but still took a few gulps of his Conscription Ale. "Go back to sleep."

"Not without you," Lucanis insisted, pulling Anders back under the covers. "You're letting in cold air. Close your eyes. We sleep now."

...

"Well, I am coming with you, and that's final," Lucanis stood his ground when Anders was trying to talk him out of going to the Arlathan Forest. "I have a feeling Neve will show up and I am not letting her succeed in murdering you," he said firmly. "Besides, Spite can help when we are in the Fade."


"Yes, I think Lucanis should come with us," Emmrich agreed. "I won't be much help in a fight if I am to focus on talking to spirits... Someone will need to watch out for the unexpected."

"I hope you're not planning on going without me," Dorian joined in. "Tevinter ruins! Learn what happened when my ancestors arrived in Thedas! Obviously, I am coming along."

"Oh, why don't we just bring the entire Grey Warden contingent along as well - the more the merrier!" Anders scowled.

"Don't be ridiculous," Dorian sighed. "It's just the four of us. You simply don't go on such trips alone."

...

A few days later Emmrich, Dorian, Anders and Lucanis stood at the edge of the Arlathan Forest in Northern Tevinter. The place did feel strange, even to Lucanis, and he thought that it must be overwhelming to mages. The three mages next to him did look uncomfortable.

"Well, we're here, might as well go in," Dorian said when no one dared to go through the gate into the forest proper.

"It doesn't feel right," Anders said in a hoarse voice.

"A lot of disturbances in the ether," Emmrich agreed. "Spirits walk in that forest, I can sense them from here. The Fade and Mundus co-exist there... It's like Solas' lighthouse, I suppose."

"Ugh..." Lucanis grimaced. "I couldn't wait to get out of there."

"Alright, let's go," Anders took a step forward. "It's like jumping through a waterfall - it will get better once we're in. We'll get used to it."

"Says who?" Dorian shook his head but followed Anders. "There's a reason no one ever comes here..."

"Apart from the Dalish elves, of course," Emmrich reminded him.

"Weirdos," Lucanis swore under his breath.

"Now, now, just because they choose to live in a forest... and wear strange pointy clothes... and meddle in magic that they don't understand... Oh, forget it!" Emmrich gave up.

After a few minutes walking they realised that it was indeed much like jumping through a waterfall - they were getting used to the forest and the strange energy filling it.

"Darkspawn!!!" Anders cried, rushing forward. They turned a corner, and there on the clearing there was a sizable group of new-style darkspawn, complete with squishy heads and tentacles growing out of their bodies...

"Ugh! That smell!" Dorian coughed. "Why does the Blight have to smell so bad?!"

But of course they had no time to ponder that question. They dealt with the darkspawn, carefully avoiding any contact with the tentacles and trying not to get bathed in the puss emitted by the boils.

"This bodes well!" Anders scowled. "Darkspawn already! I bet the whole forest is infested with it!"

"This is a trap," Lucanis said darkly. "Learn about ancient history and die while doing it."

"Let's try not to die," Emmrich laughed softly. "But yes, it definitely looks like a trap... What else would you expect from an ancient elven god stuck in the wrong epoch? We've been naïve."

"It's not that bad," Dorian approached an abandoned elven caravel. "Here, this looks serviceable," he put his hand on the door handle. "We should find a place to spend the night, the sun is about to set..."

Dorian pulled on the door handle and the door opened without a sound.

"What did you do?!!!" Emmrich shouted, pulling out his staff and starting an incantation. "Look what you released!!!"

"What..? I don't see anything..." Dorian was looking around in bewilderment. Anders seemed to sense something too and started summoning a storm. Even Lucanis felt something and readied his sword. But the odd thing was that all three of them were immobile. "Oh... that's not right..." Dorian pulled out his own staff but couldn't decide which spell would help him restore the flow of time.

"Ahhh... we meet again... Dorian," a soft voice sounded all around him, as if the words were carried by the wind.

"We meet again?" Dorian was still perplexed. "We met before? Who are you?"

"A castle filled with gold and silks, we chatted and ate grapes and then you resisted me!" The voice reminded him, sounding sweet and soft at first and finishing on a sharp note.

"Oh, my personal Desire Demon!" Dorian laughed. "And what do you desire from me now?"

"Why, your soul, of course!" The voice breathed. "But fear not - I no longer desire possession!"

"No? Why not?" Dorian was still hoping that the demon would show itself. "Oh... the Blight."

"Ahhh... Such a waste..." The demon breathed. "But your body is blighted, and I am rather particular about that."

"I am rather particular about that myself, but I can't just swap this body for another," Dorian nodded.

"Perhaps I could help with that?" The demon materialised in front of Dorian.


"Imshael," Dorian sighed. "At least this time I know your name."

"Yes, it was awfully uncourteous of me not to introduce myself the first time we met," Imshael smiled. "But then the second time you actually tried to kill me!" He pouted his lips.

"We did kill you," Dorian frowned. "Why are you not dead?"

"Because I am a spirit? A demon, even?" Imshael laughed pleasantly. "We are not that easy to kill. I was defeated and left, that was all."

"So what do we do now? Time needs to resume flowing," Dorian looked at his companions, still immobile.

"Now... I offer you a new body," Imshael smiled. "This one."

"I don't understand," Dorian shook his head.

"You come with me to the Fade and I'll let you have this body as your spirit form," Imshael explained. "It is fully functional, I assure you," he smiled. "I've got others I can use, not to worry."

"Nice try, Imshael," Dorian gave a short laugh. "But would that not require killing my current body, by chance?"

"Your body is already dead, my boy," Imshael said gravely. "It is only a matter of time. You are already in pain, the blight is spreading. You can join Grey Wardens but it won't stop it, plus the rest of your life will be forfeit in their service, provided you survive the Joining, of course. Your freedom will be gone. I offer you a way out."

"In exchange for my soul."

"You won't need it in the Fade. I'll give you an animated spirit for all the fun stuff that you enjoy so much."

"My memories..."

"Will remain with you, your mind also," Imshael kept smiling. "You will even be able to talk to your friends in the Fade when they dream... You can live an endless life of pleasure and comfort here."

"Is that your final offer?" Dorian squinted. "Do you really know me so little? Or have you grown too lazy to look into your victim's minds? No deal, Imshael."

"Oh, but I forget the most important thing: him," Imshael smiled brightly, flicked his wrist and a young man appeared next to him. Dorian paled. "Ah, that's better!" Imshael clapped his hands. "Awww, but now you'll want your old body back... the one that you had when you and this young man were friends... and more..." Another flick of his wrist and Imshael's appearance changed, he now looked like young Dorian. "You can have it all! Remain yourself, but younger. Have your lover back, your amulet too, keep it, enjoy life here in the Fade! You are too pretty to die, Dorian Pavus!"

Dorian took a step towards the young man who looked at him and smiled.

"Hello," he said. "We should have never broken up... it was stupid, but we were young and hot-headed. But now we can start again... I love you still..."

He took a step towards Dorian, wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him, and Dorian... All the memories rushed into his mind in a flood... Was that true..? Was he being given a chance to start again..? What was he waiting for?! He'd give anything - anything! - to feel that love again...

"Begone, demon!!!" A loud, harsh and hissing voice cut through the romance. "You cannot have his soul!!!"

"What..?" Dorian broke off the kiss and looked up. Anders stood between him and Imshael, his dagger and arcane sphere drawn, ready for a fight. "Anders..? How is it that you are here..?" Dorian shot a glance to where Anders stood incanting a storm, and yes, Anders still stood there incanting a storm... and he also stood between him and Imshael, poised to cast a spell... "No... not Anders... Spite?" Dorian let go of his young lover who promptly took a step back. "You came for me..?"

"Do not give in!" Spite hissed. "This is a DEMON!!!"

The sight of real Anders frozen in time and Spite as a spirit copy of Anders made another flood of memories rush into Dorian's mind - those of recent events. He was no longer twenty years old. His young lover was no longer young, they never got back together, that love was dead... while Anders, although not his lover any longer... well... never been his lover really... but just a good friend... and yet...

"Let's get him, Anders!" Dorian cried, starting on a spell. "Imshael, begone!!!"

The fight was short. Imshael was not in the mood, it seemed, he flicked his wrist and vanished, taking his young man with him. Spite's lightning bolts were still hitting the ground and Dorian's fire was still burning around them when time resumed its flow.

"You called?" Anders stopped his incantation, turning to Dorian. "Are you alright?" He ran up to him, grabbing his arm. "You look... disturbed. What happened?"

But Dorian was too caught up in the moment to speak. Here was Anders, his friend, who heard his call from the Fade itself... it was worth infinitely more than what Imshael had to offer.

"A demon, I think," Emmrich observed when Dorian did not reply. "Gone now."

"Well done, Spite," Lucanis said softly, folding his spirit wings. He walked around the caravel, examining it inside and out, then nodded with satisfaction. "It's safe to sleep in. There's a fire pit too. I'll make coffee."

The sun was setting, it was high time to settle down for the night.



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

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Rosa sangrenta

"Show me your leg," Anders rolled up his sleeve. "It's been three days."

"My leg is fine," Dorian rolled his eyes. "Avernus' treatment is holding, the blight isn't spreading."

"Show me," Anders wasn't giving up.

"Just do it, he won't leave you alone until you do," Lucanis smirked.

"Oh very well..." Dorian proceeded demonstratively unbuckling his boot.

When the clothing was finally removed, Anders carefully unwrapped the gauze bandage around Dorian's thigh. Black veins were spreading from a black spot underneath it, but the skin had closed over it.

"I'll have to reopen it - this will hurt," he said, looking up. "Brace yourself." And without waiting for Dorian's objections, he slashed the black spot with his dagger letting a few drops of black, viscous blood ooze out. "Here it comes!" He warned, slashing his own wrist and letting a few drops fall on the open wound.

"That... does hurt," Dorian breathed through clenched teeth, a few sweat pearls appearing on his forehead.

"Almost done," Anders looked up quickly, then returned to the wound. A few more drops of his blood mixed with Dorian's blighted blood in it, foaming up. "That's the best I can do," he sighed. "Not as good as Avernus, but..." He started bandaging up the cut. "The pain should subside... eventually..."

...

The following morning the weather was foggy at first, allowing them time for an extended breakfast and coffee, but once the sun cleared the air, it was time to start the exploration of the Arlathan Forest in earnest. They were looking for elven ruins that still bore the scars of the war of a thousand years ago. They spotted some ruins not far from the caravel where they spent the night, and decided to start there.

"I think we can just pick any ruins, really," Emmrich was walking around the remnants of a rotunda. "The whole forest is filled with spirits. Let's see if I can get any of them to speak..."

As Emmrich's spirit lantern illuminated the rotunda, the light seemed to flow into it rather than out of it, with the ambience dimming around them. The sound of a flute sounded from a distance, slowly approaching. Was that the wind? [Listen to the wind.]

...Pensem nas crianças mudas, telepáticas...

...Pensem nas meninas cegas, inexatas...

...Pensem nas mulheres, rotas alteradas...

...Pensem nas feridas como rosas cálidas...

Verses of a song came from no where.

"That's... not Elvish," Emmrich looked around. "Who is here?"

...Mas, oh, não se esqueçam da rosa, da rosa...

The voice seemed to circle around them, repeating the verses over and over.

...A rosa com cirrose, a anti-rosa sangrenta...

"Tevene..." Dorian was listening closely. "Not quite like we speak today, but close..."

...Sem cor, sem perfume, sem rosa, sem nada...

"Are you a human spirit trapped in the Fade?" Emmrich addressed the voice.

There was no answer but the verses of the song.

"That song..." Dorian paled. "It tells us what happened here..."

Think of the mute, telepathic children...
Think of the blind, stumbling girls...
Think of the women, their lives uprooted...
Think of the wounds like melting roses...
But do not forget the rose - the rose -
The rose scarred, a bleeding anti-rose...
Without colour, nor fragrance, nor heart... nothing...

The flute kept playing and the voice kept singing the verses over and over...

"Blood magic," Lucanis finally said, as if to himself.

"And not just any blood magic," Emmrich echoed his words equally softly, no louder than the eerie sound of the song. "They bled some people in order to curse the others..."

"The rose is life, of course," Dorian nodded. "When my father..." He shook his head, emotion cutting off his breath. "That's how he knew how to do it... We did it... here... a thousand years ago..."

"You don't know that," Anders said unexpectedly firmly, putting his arm around Dorian's shoulders. "Who performed that magic here? You assume it were humans, but it could have just as easily been the elves..."

"The song is in Tevene, not Elvish..."

"The song does not specify..."

"I think we've heard enough," Emmrich shot a glance at Dorian who was very pale and  shaking slightly. "No other spirits will talk to us here." He extinguished his lantern and the sunlight filled the rotunda. The wind died down and the song stopped. "Let us return to the caravel. Exploring can wait."

...

"When my father realised that I was not going to hide from being gay, he decided to 'cure' me," Dorian said when they were sitting around the fire with Lucanis' special extra-strong and extra-sweet coffee. "It was a blood magic ritual that he performed... he actually performed it himself... it wasn't some evil blood mage, it was my own father..." He paused, taking a sip of his coffee. "He bled two slaves..." He shook his head. "He did something... The room was filled with red mist... My whole body was boiling... my blood was boiling..." He paused again, then looked at Anders. "You know how that feels."

"Neve," Anders nodded. "My mind was in a fog... I was saying things..." He squeezed his head between the palms of his hands. "I wanted to do those things, too! If it hadn't been for Alistair stopping me..."

"You were lucky to have kept some of your reason to go to Alistair in the first place," Emmrich pointed out. "Otherwise..."

"Yeah..." Anders sighed. "Remember Adamant Fortress? Warden-Commander Clarel?" He looked at Dorian who nodded. "I could have sworn they were under some blood magic spell even before they started with their rituals."

"Possible," Dorian agreed. "Warden-Commander Clarel was a very level-headed woman... It was hard to believe she'd just fall for a such an unbelievable fable as the end of all Blights..."

"What did you want to do?" Lucanis interrupted their musings looking at Anders. "What did Neve try to compel you to do?"

"Bleed someone in order to open a portal to the Fade to go fight your demon," Anders smiled. "Oh, she had it all figured out... Of course, I'd do anything... it would only require one life... may be two..."

"Anders, the spell wore off, remember?" It was Dorian's turn to put his arm around Anders' shoulders and shake him slightly. "It wore off. The side effects will linger though..." He looked Anders in the eye. "It is up to you to resist that."

"And you? What side effects..?" Anders started asking, then changed his mind, but Dorian answered anyway.

"No side effects, no effects even... but it replaced my mind with someone else's. I wasn't me anymore. I lost myself." He smirked and let go of Anders. "It persisted for a long time, too - a month may be, or more. They even tried to marry me off and I didn't resist... Imagine that!" He laughed. "But it didn't work, I still didn't fancy women... I fancied no one, in fact... it was all... gone... Do escuro eu via um infinito sem presente, passado ou futuro... An infinity without the present, past or future... It's an old song..." [Listen to the song.]

"That wasn't a common ritual," Emmrich said softly. "That is forbidden art by any standard."

"No doubt!" Dorian looked up. "Firmly forbidden in Tevinter as well! Not easy to get hold of any text that even hints on how to do it... I always thought we didn't have such texts, that the magic was foreign... But now I think I was wrong..."

"You don't know that," Anders objected again. "We don't know who performed such magic here."

"It were the elves," a woman's voice spoke behind them. Neve.

"Well, if that isn't our special guest," Lucanis rose to greet her, his face white as a sheet. "Come, have a coffee with us. And why not. I want to see just how you plan to kill Anders this time."

"Oh, I'm not here for him," she smiled radiantly at Lucanis. "I am here for the secrets of old Tevinter. The proof that we didn't do it. We did not destroy the elves or their city - the elves did it all themselves well before we arrived. We simply picked up the pieces..."

"Get out." Dorian too rose, his eyes blazing.

"Or what, Magister Pavus?" Neve glared at him. "You want the glory for yourself, I see! But I was here first!"

"I recommend you leave, Neve," Emmrich stood between Lucanis and Neve. "Now."

Neve looked at each of the in turn, shrugged and smiled.

"Alright, have it your way - I leave." She turned around and walked a few paces. "Solas will not give you Elgar'nan, Anders. And without Solas you'll never find him. Dorian won't live and your lover..." She shot a glance at Lucanis. "Well... there's always another demon in the Fade..." She waved and walked away.

For a while no one moved or spoke.

"Remind me - why am I not allowed to kill her?" Lucanis glared at everyone, but mostly at Anders.

"You are, but not yet," Anders sighed and sat down. "I don't need Solas to find Elgar'nan since Elgar'nan found me already... but she didn't know that... hmm..."

"She knew plenty other things though," Dorian sat down too. "Such as my blight..."

"No other demon in the Fade will catch me unprepared," Lucanis said firmly. "Mathilda is dead to me."

Emmrich was watching them silently, his coffee drunk. Memories were crowding his mind... memories that normally left him well alone...

"Johanna..?" He whispered, looking into the distance. "Here..? After all these years..?" He got up and walked out of the circle of light of their campfire. The night had already fallen, a few steps further and Emmrich would disappear from view...

...

Dorian was the first to react. A wall of ice in front of Emmrich stopped him from walking into the night and whatever trap was waiting for him there. They ran up to him but he didn't seem to see them... all he saw was Johanna, he kept calling to her, kept trying to reach her... They took him by the arms and led him into the caravel, closing the door to the cabin.

"Blood magic," Dorian hissed. "Neve."

"He is completely zoned out," Anders nodded. "Johanna... he mentioned her once... she was his friend some twenty years ago... more than a friend, I think..."

"Definitely more than a friend," Lucanis nodded. "So what do we do?"

"We can try to give him coffee, if he takes it, it will shorten the time until the spell wears off," Dorian looked up and Lucanis nodded. "Extra-strong, extra-sweet... But other than that, there isn't much we can do..." He paused, checking Emmrich's pulse. "I'll stay with him, you two go make coffee."

...

"She will not have you," Lucanis took the coffee pot off the heat and sat it down to cool off, freeing himself from the need to watch it. "She... I wish she was dead already but you keep stopping me..." He gently pushed Anders onto the grass by the fire, lying down next to him. "Mathilda..."

"...does not matter," Anders interrupted him, rolling over on top.

"Were you really going to do blood magic to fight my demon for me?" Lucanis asked.

"I do blood magic every day," Anders smirked. "I am a blood mage."

"Not of that kind."

"There's just one kind."

"Not true, I kill the other kind."

"I love you..."


~~~~~~~~~~

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Secrets of Fen'Harel

"I see you're poking around Arlathan," Solas smiled pleasantly at Anders standing on the other side of the invisible wall in the Fade. "What are you hoping to find, I wonder? Are you looking for proof that humans did not destroy the elves? I could have told you that, had you asked."

"That is ancient history," Anders shook his head. "It explains why those humans won. It does not explain where the Blight came from or how to stop it."

"The Blight... of course," Solas sighed. "You have a singular tunnel vision," he hissed. "Obsessed with the Blight."

"I am a Grey Warden," Anders replied coldly, wondering just why Solas got so worked up. It should have come as no surprise that Grey Wardens put fighting the Blight in the centre of everything they did. "The Blight is on. My primary goal is to defeat it."

"Defeat the Blight... while slaying a few ancient elves in the process," Solas glared. "I know you want me dead. I may be old but not senile."

"Cut through the chase, Solas," Anders looked bored. "Why did you bring me here?"

"To tell you what you are about to discover anyway," Solas folded his arms. "It's better you hear it from me than from... well... whoever you get to speak to you down there," he smiled. "To save Dorian a few grey hairs, too. It must have been painful to hear that song."

"You know that song?" Anders looked up.

"Oh yes... I was there when..." He paused, searching for words. "That song is about the Blight, of course, I do hope you figured that out," he continued firmly. "It isn't about blood magic."

"Go on." Anders betrayed no emotion.

"The Blight started among the elves, Ghilan'nain created it as a means to control the people," Solas said gravely. "It wasn't as infectious then as it is now, it had to be administered to a person specifically... but over time it evolved into a plague terrorising the land... it was never meant to be like that."

"Are you defending Ghilan'nain for creating it?" Anders smirked.

"No, I am not... I am explaining the origins," Solas sighed. "It was wrong to create something to control the people..."

Solas fell silent and paced in front of the invisible wall.

"There's something you need to understand about the Veil," he continued, changing the topic. "How it is set up... how it is powered... why you were able to disrupt my ritual so easily..." He sighed and stopped right in front of Anders, looking straight at him. "Elves carry magic in them... not like humans carry magic... Humans only use the magic that's around them already, respond to it... while elves generate magic... it's in our nature... The Veil was powered by the magic of ancient elves that I locked away in the Fade... Yes, Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan among them. The more of us you kill, the weaker the Veil becomes. Modern elves are just not the same... they cannot power it. When you toppled the pillars that I had set up for that ritual, you disrupted the power network for the Veil, you destroyed the safeguard that would have prevented Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan from escaping while I was transferring them to this new prison... This whole mess is solely your fault!!" He suddenly exploded in an angry outburst. "Look what you've done, Warden! How does this help your cause?! I am the only one of the Evanuris who is actually on your side!! You are an idiot!!!"

He stopped shouting and just stared at Anders, pale with anger.

"Well, I'm glad we've established the facts," Anders remained stone-faced. "Are we done?"

"Done." Solas waved his hand and Anders' vision blurred.

...

"Blöde Klugscheißer!!" Anders woke up. "Tell me what we'll find out anyway..!" He mocked Solas, subsequently exploding with a tirade of Anderfels swear words that surprised even him.

"Another nightmare, was it?" Lucanis looked up from his bedroll, grinning.

"Nightmare! I'll give him a nightmare!!!" Anders jumped up, his tattoos aglow.

"Right now?" Dorian woke up too.

"Right now!"

"Hmm...?" Emmrich stirred as well. "Oh my... Anders, you are glowing."

Somehow Emmrich's sleepy words worked wonders to calm Anders' anger. He sighed and sat down on the floor.

"Solas wanted to tell me what we are about to find in the ruins," he explained. "He didn't get very far..." He shook his head. "He did say that the Veil was powered by a few ancient elves... that they emit magic... something like that... and also that with every ancient elf that we kill, the Veil gets weaker. So what are we supposed to do?!" He glared at his companions, getting angry again. "Just let them take over?! Solas wants to tear down the Veil altogether anyway!"

"Solas put up the Veil before humans arrived here," Emmrich pointed out. He seemed to have recovered from his blood magic spell of the night before. "Yet the song we heard was in Tevene." He shot a glance at Dorian before continuing. "The humans were the victims here... that magic..."

"Solas claimed the song was about the Blight rather than blood magic," Anders looked up. "But I wonder..."

"Whether they are one and the same?" Dorian looked up too.

"The Blight as a form of blood magic..." Anders rubbed the scars on his forearms. "I spread the blight every time I spill my blood..."

"Potentially, yes," Emmrich replied calmly. "Which is why you are careful how you do it."

"Life isn't a safe affair, Anders," Dorian nodded.

"We make do with what we have," Lucanis joined in, a spirit crow landing on his shoulder.

"Are you trying to cheer me up?" Anders looked at his companions in turn. "Well... I think it's working," he grinned. "So... shall we go and see for ourselves what Solas was trying not to tell me?"

...

"I'm telling you, Fen'Harel, this war has to stop!" A tall elf was glaring at young Solas. "We are not freeing our people from slavery, we are slaughtering them!"

"WE are not slaughtering them!" Solas exploded in anger. "THEY are slaughtering them! The cursed Evanuris! WE have to overthrow THEM to stop the slaughter!"

"Three hundred years!" An older looking elf joined in. "Three hundred years of slaughter! Have you gone mad, Fen'Harel? This has to stop!"

"We've come too far, we can't stop now," Solas shook his head. "Another push..."

"Another push will wipe us out!" The tall elf objected. "Look around - this place is an infirmary. Everyone is wounded, dead or dying! We cannot do another push!"

Solas sighed loudly and paced about.

"Well then... We used to be friends..." He looked at the other two elves. "We used to think alike... But now... it's all up to me, is it?"

"We are still friends, Fen'Harel," the tall elf sighed too. "We still want the same..."

"Oh forget it..."

The vision blurred.

"He left us then," the older elf addressed Emmrich. "You want to know what happened, human? How far in the future are you? You woke me from my slumber... But that was when Fen'Harel set off on his own."

"A thousand years have passed," Emmrich replied. "Fen'Harel is still on his own... He is planning something that would destroy our world and we seek to understand what drives him."

"Elven pride is what drives him," the old elf replied. "A thousand years... I can only imagine what the world has become... No, don't tell me, I'll go back to sleep, it's better not knowing... You're a human, not an elf... No elf came to speak to us in all this time... Are there no elves in your world any longer?"

"There are elves," Emmrich nodded. "But they are... changed. And... humans won that war..."

"The Veil..." The old elf sighed. "We felt it when Fen'Harel put it up. It was draining us of our magic, it was draining away our very souls... The elves have changed, you say? Why am I not surprised..." He sighed again and turned to leave. "I return to my slumber... but there are others like me in the ruins of our city... you will hear the same from them..."

The spirit dissolved and Emmrich extinguished his lantern.

"Not everyone agreed with Solas, it seems," Dorian was still looking in the direction of the vision. "He took it upon himself to fix the world... and miscalculated."

"We should have brought an elf with us," Anders said suddenly. "It must be distressing for the spirits to see only humans."

"The two Dalish elves in our party..." Emmrich started saying, but Anders shook his head.

"No, neither Davrin nor Bellara would do," he looked up. "But Antoine... may be I should have asked Antoine..."

"I don't think it matters much," Dorian started walking towards the exit of the ruined temple they were in. "Perhaps it's better the spirits don't see what the elves have become... If none of the Dalish ever spoke to the spirits here... hmm... I wonder what that means..."

"Let's try another ruin," Emmrich agreed.

The stories they heard from the other spirits were much the same. Elven rebellion had been exhausted after three hundred years of civil war, and the city of Arlathan already lay in ruin. Some elves were blighted by Ghilan'nain in order to make them into compliant slaves, and when the rebels tried to "liberate" them, they resisted... And those few that joined the rebels, brought the blight with them, unwittingly infecting others. The Blight was evolving already then.

When the humans arrived, they brought blood magic of their own. They sought to take over the elven lands and met little opposition. Oh, the battles were fierce, but the elves were few and they were weakened by the war and by the presence of the Veil. Had the humans arrived three hundred years earlier, they would have been wiped out in a trice... but as things stood, the humans were winning, enslaving what elves were still alive.

It was then that the Evanuris turned to drastic measures in an attempt to reverse the course of the war. Ghilan'nain altered the Blight... it was now a weapon, a plague, it was designed to consume the enemy, without and within... It did require some sacrifices, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and besides, the elves in Mundus were of no importance, the Veil had cut them off from their roots, their memories, their very souls... or so she thought.

The Blight was unleashed onto the humans, with elves as the first darkspawn... The humans responded with blood magic, eventually wiping out the Blight, or so they believed. Remaining darkspawn retreated into the earth through dwarven Deep Roads, and the cycle of the Blight had begun.

...

"The world that the elves had known before the Veil was put up, before their civil war - that world is gone forever," Anders observed after yet another conversation with spirits. "If the Veil is torn down now..."

"...that would destroy us all," Dorian nodded.

"Is that what Solas is trying to achieve?" Lucanis rubbed his forehead. "I admit, I am confused... He wants to destroy all elves along with humans... because they'll die too..."

"They are not the right elves," Emmrich nodded. "There must be a few more ancient ones hidden away in the Fade, or possibly slumbering somewhere... He probably plans to bring them back, to rebuild the elven race from scratch..."

"Another one of Fen'Harel's grand plans then," Lucanis nodded. "So, what do we do?"

"We are not done here yet," Anders looked up. "We learned what happened a thousand years ago but not how to save our world today. Solas isn't innocent, true, and Solas is a threat to us - but we knew this already." He sighed and paced about. "How do we ensure that the Veil stays put and remains strong? How do we drive the Blight underground again? The spirits can't answer this, and yet I feel..."

"...that the answer is here somewhere..." Emmrich said softly, finishing Anders' sentence. "Yes, I feel that too... There is another presence..."

The wind rose around them, making dry leaves fly through the air in that forest of eternal autumn. A cloud passed in front of the sun, softening its rays. A shadow fell over the ancient elven ruins of the city of Arlathan. A dragon...

"Look - a dragon!" Lucanis noticed it first. "Just there - hovering over that tower in the distance."

"Perhaps it's got a nest on top of that hill," Anders suggested, following it with his gaze.

"Just the place for it - no one comes here to bother it," Dorian agreed.

"Dragons are immortal beings that walk both in the Fade and in Mundus," Emmrich observed. "It would feel at home in a place where the Fade and Mundus are one. A place like the Arlathan Forest."

The dragon landed on top of the ruined tower and folded its wings. There was something deeply familiar about that particular dragon... It turned its head to look at the newcomers to its forest... Three mages and an assassin... A Grey Warden among them... yet two carry the Blight... one talks to spirits, another carries one... All four know death up close... yes... it was the right group...

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Like father, like son

"No, mum, I'm going," Kieran shook his head at Morrigan. "Alistair left me here in charge of the younger recruits, but now the fight is on and I am a Grey Warden. I am leading the recruits to the Anderfels, as per Alistair's orders."

"I've never known Alistair to issue orders..." Morrigan smirked, then added with a sigh: "I suppose you're right, young man. Well... be careful." She hugged him in a motherly fashion and he allowed her to do that. "I'll see you there... one way or the other."

"Mum..." Kieran grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the doorway. "Is grandma with you?" He asked in a whisper.

"A piece of her..." Morrigan nodded. "Just a piece... Her memories, but also a little of her spirit."

"Are you possessed?" Kieran was trying to understand it.

"No... not as such," Morrigan shook her head. "Flemeth wasn't possessed either... or may be she was, but her spirit wasn't suppressed... Hmm... I am really not sure," Morrigan admitted. "But Mythal was strong then, she had enough energy to build a body of her own after Flemeth died. And of course in the Fade she could rest..."

"She was a dragon!" Kieran said with pride.

"Yes... that dragon is still out there somewhere... The dragon that lent Mythal its body... It must be carrying another piece of her, you know."

"And then Fen'Harel killed her!" Kieran looked angry.

"Fen'Harel absorbed the energy from Mythal's body, yes," Morrigan frowned. "He probably believes that it killed her... but no. She is weak again, but her will has not faltered. I shall carry her where she needs to be..."

...

The dragon atop a ruined tower in the Arlathan Forest was watching the four adventurers in its domain. Three mages and an assassin. One was a Grey Warden but two carried the Blight; one could talk to spirits but another carried a spirit inside him, yet two were abominations. One blood mage but three had blood magic course through their veins... It was the right group. The dragon took off, gliding through the air to where they stood and landed softly before them.

"Young man," the dragon addressed Anders, "there is something you need to know about Fen'Harel..."

There was definitely something deeply familiar about that dragon. How many times had Anders heard that voice? He lost count. When Morrigan stayed at the Soldier's Peak with Wolf, when they traveled together to help her reach the most scattered of the Dalish elves, and even back in Kirkwall when Wolf insisted that Hawke should deliver the witch's amulet to the Dalish as she had requested...

"Mythal?" Anders took a step forward.

"Just a piece of her, just a small piece..." The dragon said softly. "But yes, I carry a piece of her soul... Mythal is not dead..."

"Then Morrigan carries another piece," Anders smiled.

"Mythal took precautions..." The dragon lowered its head. "Mythal... loved Fen'Harel but also knew his nature... loved him despite of that... you don't love because of something but always despite of something... you know how it is, yes..."

"Mythal... Remarkable..." Emmrich was transfixed, a faint glow emanating from his whole being.

"You are almost there, necromancer," the dragon turned to him. "Your spirit will soon transform... have faith." Then turning back to Anders, the dragon continued. "When Fen'Harel absorbed Mythal's life force, he made himself vulnerable to her magic... he doesn't know it, of course... When you face him, I shall be there... I can reach him where you cannot... behind the invisible wall of his prison... The only question that remains, is what is it that you really wish to achieve?"

The dragon brought its head quite low and looked Anders in the eye.

"First and foremost?" Anders stood as if mesmerised under the dragon's gaze. "Maintain the Veil. Defeat the Blight."

"Save the world," Dorian said softly. "Nothing more."

"Tell him that," the dragon said with a nod, rose and flew away.

...

"We are going to the Arlathan Forest," Kieran addressed half a dozen recruits under his command.

"But Alistair told us to go to the Anderfels..." One of the recruits objected. "Isn't the Arlathan Forest dangerous?"

"It is," Kieran nodded. "Which is why we are needed there." He shook his head at the looks of incomprehension on everyone's faces. "Alistair said to go where we are needed, which will later be the Anderfels, but right now we have to take a detour by the Arlathan Forest." He paused and sighed. "I can sense it... that's where we have to be... I can't explain that right now..."

"Is that your Warden sense?" One of the recruits squinted.

"No... that's... That's why Alistair left me behind," Kieran decided to leave it at that. "With you. You are no Wardens yet, you cannot sense darkspawn, but trust me when I say that darkspawn is not thick on the ground in the Arlathan Forest. Keep your eyes peeled and your swords at the ready and you'll be fine, there are no darkspawn hordes there..."

"You are making no sense, Kieran," a tall recruit in impeccable armour ran his fingers along the edge of his ruby-encrusted sword. "If there's no darkspawn there, then why the detour? I shall not fight some forest pixies, there's no glory in that..."

"Alright!" Kieran turned to them all. "Anyone who is here for the glory - leave now! Anyone who's worried about mud stains on their pristine robes - go home! Anyone who cannot manage two weeks without a bath - out! The rest - follow me. I know what I am doing."

He turned his back to them and started walking. Ten minutes later three warriors, an archer and a mage were seen marching towards the Arlathan Forest, not an encrusted sword in sight.

...

"Where are we going exactly?" The archer asked when they set up camp for the night. "You don't have to tell us why if that's a secret... but..."

"We trust you and all," a girl with an assortment of knives and daggers about her person joined in. "And we're with you... but a little more detail would help..."

"How do you even know where we're needed?" A swordsman looked up.

"If it isn't the Warden's sense, then it's from the Fade," the mage nodded. "You're no mage... and yet... you must have something from your mother..."

"The Witch of the Wilds!" The girl exclaimed with pathos. "Come on, Kieran, you can tell us!"

"It is a sense I have from my father," he gave in. "You'll understand when we get there. I know exactly where we're going."

"Your father?" The archer sounded surprised.

"Warden-Commander Asgarsen," the swordsman rubbed his chin. "Who vanished."

"He did not vanish, he left," the mage corrected him. "Sailed to another kingdom across the ocean... Really... don't you read the papers?"

"He's not going to tell us anything else," the archer sighed. "I've heard stories... but no... we'll see it when we see it, I guess..."

Kieran was not about to say anything more, indeed. Even his mother did not know the full extent of his senses. She suspected... she must have suspected something... He was conceived under a special ritual as a vessel for an ancient god's soul, an Archdemon's soul, and he carried that soul until Mythal freed him from it at the time of the Inquisition, the time when he finally met his father, a Grey Warden. The ancient soul departed, still free from the Blight's taint, and only then could he meet his father as there was no longer any danger of corrupting the ancient soul. But did his own soul not carry any marks? It was born of a union of a Grey Warden and a powerful sorceress under a special ritual, and besides... besides, the Grey Warden was also Dragonborn. What better vessel for another piece of Mythal's soul than dragon kin..?

Kieran was leading his remaining recruits to the Arlathan Forest because it was time to secure the Veil.

...

"We should make camp right here and Anders should go to sleep so that he could get to Solas," Lucanis spoke when the dragon left. "You can find him, right?"

"I can find him but..."

"No, it's much simpler than that," Emmrich interrupted them. "I can sense it... I am almost ready... may be this will be it..."

"What are you talking about?" Anders squinted.

"I can sense where we can pass through the Veil and enter the Fade, I can sense the structure of the Fade, I can find the way... almost ready... My spirit is almost ready to leave my body behind... I am a necromancer... my goal is to transgress death..."

"You want to walk among the dead?" Lucanis sounded surprised.

"I want to walk among spirits, yes... and among men... I shall become a true undead..." He stopped, looking into the distance. "There is an opening there - between those trees... Come..."

...

"Through here," Kieran was leading his recruits along a narrow forest path. "That waterfall - we jump."

No one was objecting any longer. He led them through stranger places than that, always avoiding unnecessary fighting, always landing on his feet. The mage in their party sensed the Fade flow around them, they were weaving in and out of it, and Kieran always knew just where to go...

...

"Hello, Solas, we have to talk," Anders stood in front of the invisible wall of Solas' prison.

"You!" Solas seemed surprised. "How..? Oh... the necromancer... I should have known..." He frowned. "Very well, what is it that you want? Speak! Now that you brought a whole party to watch..."

"You have to stabilise the Veil," Anders said firmly. "You built it, so you know how to do it."

"I might know a trick or two, but I am stuck here behind this wall - because of you!" He threw his hands in the air. "I can do nothing from here."

"Not true."

"What..?"

"Not true. You have plenty of magic to anchor the Veil." Anders stood his ground. He wasn't sure what he was saying exactly, but somehow he knew what to say, as if someone was whispering the words into his ear...

"Anchor the Veil..?" Solas stood aghast. "Who told you that..? No... it couldn't be... but she's dead..."

"Anchor the Veil," Anders repeated. "Do it, Fen'Harel."

"Don't call me that... you cannot know..."

"...what it means to you?" A familiar voice sounded behind Solas. "Does it still mean anything to you to hear me call you that, ma' lath Fen'Harel?"

"No... it's a trick... it must be a trick..." Solas looked distraught. "That is a cruel trick, blood mage!" He shouted at Anders and slammed his staff into the ground calling up demons all around them.

"To arms..!!!"

No one needed telling it twice. The fight was fierce but short, with three mages and an assassin dispatching Solas' demons without too much trouble. But just as Anders was hoping to resume their conversation, Solas slammed his staff into the ground again, calling up even more and stronger demons...

This second wave was tougher than the first, and yet our party defeated them all, and Solas slammed his staff again... It was turning into a long and tedious dance...

...

"We have to hurry!" Kieran was urging his companions. "This way! Quick! There! Demons!! Attack!!!!"

...

"Reinforcements..?" Anders thought he saw someone attack a demon from behind. But how? Where from? Who were they? But ultimately none of it mattered. The fight was on, and losing it was not an option.

...

Solas was getting tired. He wasn't fighting anyone, true, but calling up demons drained his magicka which he could not regenerate quickly enough. "Blasted humans, they know how to fight!" He swore under his breath. "Just like back then... they did not come unprepared... unlike us... But no, this is no army... one blood mage with a few friends... this should not be an issue for Fen'Harel!" Saying his own name in that context gave him a second wind and more demons followed. No, Fen'Harel was not done yet!

"Still fighting, Fen'Harel?" The same familiar voice from before covered the sounds of magical explosions, clanking of steel and human cries and moans. "You never give up, ma' lath Fen'Harel... Except that one time..."

"What..?!" Solas spun around but saw nothing. "Blasted blood mage!!! You cannot touch my mind!!!"

"It isn't the blood mage, Fen'Harel," the voice objected. "It is I..."

A dragon landed before him, behind the invisible wall separating him from the battle.

"Mythal..?" He froze.

"Just a piece of her, just a small piece..." The dragon breathed.

"You did not trust me," Solas' voice fell.

"I loved you but I knew your nature," the dragon replied. "Was I wrong?"

"But..."

"You killed me, ma' lath, you had to have the power, you could not stop..." The dragon sighed. "Perhaps I am wrong to love you still... but the heart wants what the heart wants, as humans like to say... Would you like to kill me again, Fen'Harel? Only now I shall fight back... and you are not immortal..."

The dragon raised itself opening its wings and all could see its magnificence. Fire was gathering in its mouth - it was no empty threat.

"I shall not fight you, Mythal," Solas dropped his staff on the ground. "You were right about me all along... ma' lath... dare I call you that still?"

"That Mythal is dead, Fen'Harel," the dragon closed its wings again. "There is no one left to love. I have but a piece of her soul..."

"Anchor the Veil, Fen'Harel," Kieran stood in front of the invisible wall. "This world must survive."

"You..?" Solas spun around.

"I have a piece of her soul, just a small piece..." Kieran smiled. He breathed at the wall before him and a layer of dew appeared on it, then dripped down and melted away. Kieran stepped through it and stood next to the dragon. "And I am dragon kin."

"Like father, like son," Solas smirked. "I always knew Wolf could do more than just spill his blood..."

"Anchor the Veil, Fen'Harel," Kieran repeated.

Solas looked at the dragon, then at Kieran, then turned to look at everyone on the other side of the invisible wall... He picked up his staff and cast a spell. His form turned to stone, and a myriad of shimmering threads extended from it into the ether.

"It's done," Kieran walked back through the wall which remained solid for everyone else except the dragon. "We go to the Anderfels," he told Anders waving at his recruits. "Mum sends her regards... We'll see you there, Anders. Take your time..."

He nodded and walked away, with his recruits following.

"He will go far, this one," Dorian said softly.

"Like father, like son," Anders agreed.

you did the dialog so well, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Thanks, Macole! I realised I rather like writing dialogue.

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - For as long as I live

"Another one down," Anders turned to his companions when they navigated their way out of the Fade in the Arlathan Forest. "And we didn't get stuck in there," he gestured at the opening they just came out of.

"That was a tough one," Dorian agreed.

"I need coffee," Lucanis muttered as if to himself.

"We all do, Luca," Anders came close. "Spite included."

Although they were a stretch away from the caravel where they had spent previous nights, they decided to return there as the place became familiar and they'd really had enough surprises for one day.

...

"What will happen to you now?" Lucanis asked Emmrich when they were finally sitting by the fire with food and coffee. "You don't look undead."

"Not yet, no," Emmrich smiled. "I'll stay as I am until we're done saving the world," he grinned. "Then I shall return to Nevarra and undergo a ritual to become undead."

"Ugh, that sounds unpleasant," Lucanis shivered.

"Well... I shall die... and I won't die..." Emmrich stared into the distance, as if watching such a ritual performed. "I have always feared death... I still fear death... When my parents died... I..." He shook his head.

"You want to cheat death," Lucanis said softly. "I understand."

"Yes, I suppose I do..." Emmrich nodded. "You have seen other undead in the Necropolis in Nevarra when you came to me there," he looked at Dorian and Anders. "Some look like ghosts, others like skeletons... Those are just material forms meant to give them bodies of some sort. Some undead look just like living people - with illusion magic."

"What do you want to be?" Dorian smiled.

"I haven't decided yet," Emmrich shrugged. "Something that can wear clothes and may be a mask... so as not to have to use illusion all the time... something like that..."

"You want to look alive," Lucanis nodded. "Makes sense."

"Does it?"

"Yes. If you look dead, you haven't really cheated death, have you?"

The conversation moved to lighter matters, then died down. Light topics didn't fit with what they'd witnessed that day.

"Do you think that there is enough of Mythal left to still love Fen'Harel?" Anders asked his companions. "Now that she is literally in pieces..."

"If each piece of her loves him, then yes, I suppose..." Dorian shrugged.

"That depends on how much she loved him to begin with," Lucanis offered.

"If it permeated her entire soul," Emmrich nodded. "Not just sat pushed into a corner, then squeezed out and replaced by... oh never mind..."

"I am sorry, Emmrich, it must have been a torture," Lucanis said softly.

"What..?" Emmrich looked up. "How did you...?"

"I guessed," Lucanis smiled. "Neve's blood magic spell... You were seeing someone... She brought up memories... emotions... And I... know how that feels..."

"Yes... Johanna," Emmrich inclined his head. "We... were close... I loved her... but she, she loved her studies more... Always so competitive... She wanted the same as what I am aiming for - to become truly undead, but she was going too fast, not taking the time to prepare her soul. Letting death into your soul can kill the life in it, and with her I think it did... I lost her even though she's still out there somewhere..."

"She left you?" Dorian looked puzzled.

"She left everyone," Emmrich nodded. "She is... half-undead... of sorts... A powerful sorceress, she will have preserved her body or got herself a new one, and she has a soul or a spirit if you prefer, but it is crooked, corrupt... Yet she is not a demon and cannot enter the Fade... She's here in Mundus somewhere..."

"That... is sad," Dorian sighed.

"It is..." Emmrich agreed. "And I thought I had overcome it... But all it took was one blood magic spell to stir up the memories and bring it all back... Can you believe it - I love her still?"

"I can believe it," Dorian and Lucanis nodded, each engrossed in their own memories.

"We need more coffee," Lucanis got up and started making it.

"Dorian, I am so sorry for what you went through with blood magic," Anders suddenly said, hugging Dorian around the shoulders. "That must have been terrible."

"It was... but it was a long time ago," Dorian sounded surprised, but hugged Anders too. "What brought that up?"

"Don't ever stop being gay," Anders said in his ear.

"I wasn't going to, honest," Dorian laughed softly. "Why?"

"Just - don't." Anders kissed him and released the embrace.

"Well, you can tell him," Lucanis came back with the coffee.

"Tell me what?"

"Umm..." Anders couldn't find the words.

"Shall I tell him?" Lucanis sat next to Anders, wrapping his arm around his waist. Anders nodded. "Alright. Without you there would be no us, Dorian," he said. "And I can never feel jealousy towards you. Never. You are the one man..." He paused looking at Anders who was still struggling with finding the words. "He gives all of himself... He doesn't hold back... You'll see..."

"Oh, I already know," Dorian said softly. "But he belongs to you."

"You didn't have to buy me from the guards," Anders looked at Dorian. "You could have paid my fine or arranged my release through the Magisterium... I would have been grateful... They would not have skinned me quite so soon..."

"Those methods take time," Dorian was watching him. "They would not have killed you so quickly, true... but beatings, lashing, rape... all that was to come... I could not let it happen. The moment I paid for you, you came under the protection of my name, and I am yet to see a city guard who goes against House Pavus!" He smirked. "In Minrathous, it counts."

"You did yourself a lot of damage with that purchase," Anders objected.

"My reputation? Yes... well... I rather enjoy being the pariah..."

"Show me your leg," Anders suddenly sounded decisive, rolling up his sleeve. "We've fought a lot of demons today."

"Stop fussing about it!" Dorian rolled his eyes but started removing his boot.

...

With another blood treatment administered and another pot of coffee drunk, it was time for bed.

"How come your evening coffee doesn't keep us awake all night?" Emmrich asked Lucanis. "While your morning coffee really chases away drowsiness?"

"It's not the same coffee," Lucanis shrugged. "We like to sleep at night in Antiva."

"Who would have thought!" Dorian smirked. "I wish it could knock me out," he sighed. "These blood treatments hurt more than the blight itself..."

"Ah..." Anders stopped, watching him. "Well... Let me see..." He slit his wrist and started an incantation.

"What are you doing?" Dorian squinted. "Hey, I am a mage myself... No! Stop that!"

But Anders wasn't listening. The spell was cast and black veins started coming forth under his skin, receding after a while. He closed his eyes but the pain he was in, was obvious.

"Go to sleep," he spoke with a hoarse voice. "Your leg should feel better by the morning."

"All of himself, like I said," Lucanis said in Dorian's ear. "He won't take no for an answer, it's useless, I tried. Like a dog with a bone..." He shot a glance at Anders who curled up on a bedroll. "I'll take care of him. You... accept his gift... he doesn't do it for just anyone..."

"He took my pain onto himself," Dorian's voice trembled. "That is... some very rare magic..."

"He loves you," Lucanis said simply. "You and me and Wolf... he is a healer and helps others of course, but it's not the same... The difference between giving away and taking onto yourself is immense."

"I first met him during the time of the Inquisition when he came to Skyhold with the other Ferelden Wardens. He was often drunk and slept with every female in the castle, I am sure," Dorian smirked. "If there was a brawl, he was in it... not unlike the other Wardens... but as soon as darkspawn showed up, they were all sober and in perfect fighting form, like by magic..."

"The taint?"

"It must be," Dorian nodded. "Grey Warden taint is not just the blight..."

"Grey Warden discipline goes a long way too," Lucanis smiled, watching Anders sit up, take a gulp of his Conscription Ale, then go back to sleep. "An Archdemon is singing him a lullaby, as he put it... it must be terrifying," he shivered.

"Will you be leaving The Crows?" Dorian suddenly asked. "Like Zevran?"

"Leaving... I cannot leave," Lucanis shook his head. "I was born to The Crows, there is no quitting. But I shall be taking a long vacation," he grinned. "They won't kill me for that..."

"What if you join Grey Wardens?"

"They'll kill me then, or at least they'll try."

"So that's why Zevran..."

"That's why, yes," Lucanis nodded. "Even though he was written off at first, but that can be reversed... and of course it was reversed for him... Zevran still belongs to the Antivan Crows."

"It took me a long time to realise what Wolf saw in Anders," Dorian continued his train of thought. "This rowdy mage who was constantly getting into trouble... I got to know Wolf a bit by then... more than a bit... if it wasn't for him, I would have never forgiven my father..." He shook his head. "Wolf was older... he'd seen things, he lived through things I could not even imagine... The Fifth Blight, for one... his life before that... There was more to him than most people suspected. And Anders... I saw them together one day, Wolf slitting his wrist and making Anders cast the spell to take his life force..." He shook his head. "You know the type..."

"Let me guess - after Anders collapsed from too much healing?"

Dorian nodded. "They've done it before, that transfer of life... They were bonded..."

"It sounds like..."

"Yes... Wolf saw himself in Anders... His inner self..."

"I now understand the depth of feeling... That separation... it must be so acute."

"Wolf left but Anders remained," Dorian looked Lucanis in the eye. "Not many know this, even among the Wardens... Anders spent many months with me after that, hiding from himself. He begged me to keep an eye on him, said he trusted me to save him from himself... Well, I didn't do anything really, just let him deal with his pain... He learned Tevene during that time, he speaks it perfectly... He'll learn Antivan before you realise it, you'll see," he smiled.

"You were there for him, that was all that he needed," Lucanis nodded.

"I never..." Dorian shook his head. "We were never intimate until he insisted just recently... I would never..."

"I know," Lucanis interrupted him. "Even when you two were pretending to be. 'You could lie naked next to him and still feel your privacy respected,' he said about you. But now... there is no longer any need to hold back." Lucanis paused, looking Dorian in the eye. "I won't lose him to you, that's impossible. You were a part of him already before we met."

"And you accepted him that way."

"You are his Mathilda."

"The past never leaves us, does it?" Dorian smirked.

"Some wounds never really heal. Some scars can always reopen."

They shot a glance at Emmrich who appeared to be asleep on his bedroll.

"I take a step back when you're around," Dorian said quietly. "But when you cannot be with him..."

"I'll know you'll be keeping him out of trouble," Lucanis smiled.

"For as long as I live."

Sun's Dawn, 3E411 - Eu sou feliz

"I wish that coffee could knock me out," Dorian lay down on his bedroll. "These blood treatments hurt more than the blight itself."

"Ah..." Anders stopped. "Let me see..." He slit his wrist and cast a spell, refusing to interrupt the incantation despite Dorian's protests - being a mage himself, Dorian realised what Anders was doing. Black veins came forth under Anders' skin, then retreated after a while. He closed his eyes steeling himself, but the pain he was in, was obvious. "Go to sleep," he said in a hoarse voice. "Your leg should feel better by the morning."

Anders curled up on his bedroll, making an effort not to scream. His blood was boiling. The same spell that raised the taint in darkspawn, could also be used to calm it at the cost of the caster's life force, and that was the spell he cast for Dorian, reducing Dorian's pain but making his own blood boil. "That's how darkspawn must feel when we cast it on them," he reflected, almost with pity.

Anders was not new to many forms of pain. "I'm not a virgin," he smirked when people asked him how he could stand it. "You get used to it." The truth was of course that he didn't get used to it but instead found ways to block it or override it with something else, usually an even greater pain... How was that helpful? Sometimes he would lose consciousness, other times he would have visions, but more often than not, an Archdemon would sing him a lullaby, quite literally. He became accustomed to allowing the horrors of the Blight block out his pain, both physical and mental. Giving himself over to the Blight, letting the taint take control of his being, allowing his mind to swim in the sea of blood, hearing the song... All of that was horrifying, and yet at the same time it was the Blight that healed his slit wrists, that restored his depleted magicka, it was the Blight that kept him alive. "Blight is life." The voice of Ishala rang in his ears. "If I were to die, what would happen to these griffons?" And so she had embraced the Blight to lessen their pain, in all perpetuity.

Anders did not want to go too far. He did not allow the Blight to consume his mind. He was a blood mage, which was bad enough, but he was still in control. Between Avernus' taint mixture and his understanding of blood magic, he was able to walk the tightrope and use his taint without permitting it to use him. "You like to walk the edge," Lucanis said soon after they met. Yes, the edge was where the action was. The edge was where he could make a difference.

"He's not used to this pain yet, to the song on the back of his mind," Anders was lying with his eyes almost closed, watching Dorian through the eyelashes. "But the spell worked," he nodded to himself. "He's talking to Lucanis, he is feeling better... The blood treatments slow down the blight but make his blood boil for a time... I wish it could be avoided but that's what keeps him alive..."

He sat up and took a gulp of his Conscription Ale, then turned over and closed his eyes. "Got to try to sleep," he told himself. "The pain should subside by the morning..."

...

Dorian and Lucanis finished their conversation, it was high time to get some sleep. Dorian stretched out on his bedroll realising that he did not have to wait till morning for his pain to subside - his leg already felt much better and the song on the back of his mind went silent for the first time since he contracted the blight. "He was talking about himself," he realised, shooting a glance at Anders. "My pain is already gone... it is his pain that should subside by the morning." Dorian watched Lucanis move his bedroll next to Anders, then lie down, pulling Anders close. Dorian closed his eyes and fell asleep, free of Archdemon's lullabies.

...

"Sleep now, I've got you," Lucanis whispered in Anders' ear. "Release that ball of pain."

Anders didn't answer, perhaps he was already asleep.

"Let it out."

A barely audible moan was Lucanis' answer.

"There..." he turned Anders over to face him. "I won't hurt you like you asked... there are other ways to deal with pain," he said, kissing him softly. "Release your hold on the pain, I am here... Let it loose and sleep."

Anders moaned again, but without engaging his voice, it sounded more like a hissing groan. He could not speak, the pain seemed to stream through his entire being, now that Lucanis snapped the knot holding it together. Lucanis held him close. Anders felt the pain radiate from somewhere under his liver, slicing through it like with a sharp knife. It reached his heart and cut through it too, and Anders twitched and tensed, his knees pulling up in a reflex.

"Let it loose, don't pull it back in," Lucanis wrapped himself around Anders. "I have it."

The pain shot through Anders' fingertips making his whole body convulse, but Lucanis only tightened his embrace, trying to include as much of Anders in it as he could. Another groan, another convulsion, and the source of pain under Anders' liver started losing its power, a supernova dissolving into a cloud of overheated debris propelled through his veins like liquid razor blades. He moaned again.

"Don't hold it in," Lucanis encouraged him, kissing the tears away. "I won't let go."

Slowly, the pain was subsiding. Anders' heart was still skipping a beat every time a stray blade passed through it, but the stream of razors was thinning, and his fingertips stopped tingling, regaining feeling. As his muscles relaxed, the sharpness of sensation gave way to a steady ache, bothersome but not acute. He could sleep through this... this pain would subside by the morning.

As the dawn rose over the Arlathan Forest, Anders opened his eyes and smiled. "You haven't slept all night," he said, meeting Lucanis' gaze. "You can sleep now, I've got it. Eu sou feliz," he added in Tevene, and Lucanis knew what he meant.

First Seed, 3E411 - The Messiah

"So, if the Blight now exists on its own, then who or what is driving it?" Anders was thinking aloud as he and his companions were walking back from the Arlathan Forest towards the Anderfels. "We've secured the Veil, now all that is left is to defeat the Blight... But without an Archdemon to lead it, I am at a loss what to do."

"What does your Warden sense tell you?" Emmrich looked at him sideways. "Isn't it how it normally works?"

"It is, and it tells me nothing..." Anders sighed. "Oh, there are plenty of nightmares... Nightmares of Archdemons of old... THEY are talking to me... to all of us, I suppose... But how can they if they are all dead?"

"So instead of a single Archdemon singing you lullabies, you now have a choir, is that it?" Lucanis shivered. "Charming."

"Now you understand the need for the extra strong Conscription Ale," Anders smirked. "We always hear the Blight, and the difference is that when it is suppressed, we just hear some vague murmurs, some noise, sometimes a song, but it is in the background... Distracting and all, but markedly different from the times when the Blight marches onto Mundus. Then the Archdemon leading it takes control of the choir and the song becomes much more persistent, it gets louder and harder to block. Sometimes he holds speeches... and we are invited," Anders shuddered. "But now it's different... ever since we killed Ghilan'nain, the Blight lost its leader, but instead of retreating, it is still marching forth... The song has not weakened, but there's no one holding speeches... It's just bizarre..."

"Does the Blight even need a leader?" Dorian wondered aloud.

"Yes, there was always a leader," Anders nodded. "That's why darkspawn seek out old gods under the earth in the first place. To make one of them into a leader. The vast horde of darkspawn is mindless and needs someone or something to get them organised."

"Which is what makes it less dangerous when there is no Archdemon," Lucanis nodded. "I don't think we'll figure it out between us though. You'll need to talk to the other Wardens."

"You're probably right," Anders agreed. "Let's hope Morrigan is there too... I have a feeling Mythal has more wisdom to impart to us."

"I wonder what Neve will do now, that Solas is... umm... incapacitated?" Emmrich smirked. "Not dead exactly, but still out of the game..."

"Neve's objectives in terms of becoming the most important citizen of Tevinter in modern history can still be fulfilled," Dorian pointed out. "She can enter the Fade through the Arlathan Forest, she can collect enough proof that we didn't destroy the elves. For all the good it will do," he scowled. "So I expect that's what she'll be doing. And she'll bring it to the Magisterium while we're still here, that is before I return to Minrathous with the same information."

"Then we should go back," Lucanis stopped. "We no longer need her, correct? I have a contract to fulfill."

"That would mean that I have to deliver that information to the Magisterium instead of her," Dorian grimaced. "I am not looking forward to the prospect."

"Why?" Anders stopped too. "You wanted to find out..."

"I wanted to find out and I did," Dorian nodded. "I wanted to know, and I do. I never wanted to become the Messiah who ushers Tevinter into a new era of self-importance," he frowned. "It does not suit me," he smiled.

"You will become the Archon," Anders understood him.

"They will make me into an Archon, yes," Dorian scoffed. "And they will completely erase my identity by doing so. A Magister from House Pavus becomes the Archon, and House Pavus finally loses its black sheep. Ours is one of the oldest Houses in Tevinter, and the Archon cannot be gay." He turned away from them and took a step to the side.

"And that's not all of it," Anders said softly. "Everything that Dorian has been trying to achieve over the past ten years, every change in the the law, every shift in attitudes at the Magisterium - all of that will be lost. And I am talking about the abolition of slavery rather than the recognition of gay marriage."

"They would probably even recognise gay marriage just so they could forget about abolishing slavery," Dorian said angrily. "There are far more slaves in Tevinter than there are gay men!"

"So you want me keep away from Neve for now," Lucanis said softly and nodded. "Let her become the Messiah."

"Yes."

"Will she not be made into an Archon though?" Emmrich asked. "That would be counter-productive."

"House Gallus isn't important enough, she would be jumping several stages," Dorian shook his head. "There is even no such thing as House Gallus... No, Neve would simply get a seat at the Magisterium, nothing more. That's quite a huge honour for someone of... well... her lineage," he said with a blush. "Just listen to me... Talking like some..." He shook his head. "But that's how it works. It would take another heroic feat to move up, and even then..."

"Another heroic feat such as defeating the Blight, perhaps?" Anders smirked. "Oh I think Neve is aiming high."

"Your life is still in danger," Lucanis looked squarely at him.

...

Neve was doing exactly what Dorian thought she'd be doing - collecting evidence that the first humans who arrived in Thedas did not destroy the elves. They built the Tevinter Imperium on the old elven lands, true, they enslaved a lot of elves, true, but they could only do it because the elves had weakened themselves through their civil war well before humans arrived. The humans were innocent! Their blood magic did not poison the land, it was ancient elven magic that did it! The elves created the Blight! The elves were the first darkspawn! The elves... and so on, and so forth. In short, elves deserved exactly what they got in the hands of humans - slavery and humiliation, or, as Neve preferred to call it, "guidance" and "common law". As proof Neve collected many remnants of old records and missives, many samples of objects contaminated by blood magic with an elven signature, she made many notes and put many marks on the map to show just where more proof could be found. Neve was ready to become the Messiah.

Upon returning to Minrathous, she deposited all her evidence at the Magisterial Archives and soon was welcomed as the newest member, now to be addressed as Magister Gallus. To Neve's disappointment however, this honour did not come adorned in gold and jewels. Magisters did not get paid, it was a public service and a civic duty, not a profession or a job, she was told. Ah. That was an annoying setback, but still not a disaster - Neve wasn't done yet. She returned to the Anderfels hoping that new leads would have appeared while she was away.

...

When Anders and his companions finally reached the old Grey Warden head quarters in the Anderfels, they found the fortress under attack by darkspawn. The battle wasn't massive and the darkspawn was cleared without any casualties among the Wardens, but the very fact of such an attack was worrying.

"They've been getting bolder and bolder," Evka was saying, turning over one or the other darkspawn corpse. "Just look at them - they are more like the ones we're used to, normal heads, no boils, no tentacles, they don't explode in a fountain of puss... and yet they are not like the ones we're used to. These ones aren't dumb."

"They did seem to have a purpose in their attack, but I don't see an Emissary," Anders nodded. "Who was leading them?"

"That's what we don't understand," Antoine said wistfully. "They have a purpose and a strategy where none should be possible..."

"We'll need to send out scouts," Anders decided. "May be there's something in the Deep Roads... A broodmother or..."

"Another Architect?" Alistair joined them. "Like the one you encountered shortly after the Fifth Blight?"

"What do you dream of?" Anders turned to him. "What do the old Wardens dream of?"

"Nothing definite," Alistair shook his head. "The same as you... nothing but foreboding..."

They all shook their heads at such a dilemma and returned to the fortress.

...

"What are you trying to achieve, Neve?" Varric refilled his mug of beer. "The Wardens have left us preferring to follow Alistair of Ferelden," he spit on the floor. "Even Davrin is hesitating, and if it wasn't for Bellara, he'd be long gone too. What is your plan now?"

"Stay put and listen," Neve smiled. "Anders will do something stupid again."

"Like stabilising the Veil with Solas' life force?" Varric smirked. "Blondie hit your right under the belt there..." He shook his head. "I almost like him now."

"What's that supposed to mean, Varric?" Neve squinted. "You think you're the brain behind this whole operation, so let's hear it! What is YOUR plan?"

"We have to drive back the Blight," Varric put down his mug, turning serious. "If we make you into the Archon of Tevinter as a result, so for the better, but that isn't my concern. The Blight has to stop."

"Agreed. But how do you propose to do it without Grey Wardens?"

"It can be done," Varric sat back in his chair. "They think they are the only ones who can handle the Blight, but all it takes really is a strong sword arm, some snappy magic and Bianca," he caressed his crossbow. "There is no longer an Archdemon to defeat, this Blight is not like the others. Anyone can drive it back."

"How?" Neve sat up. "Speak up, Varric! Now is not the time for suspense!"

"Now, that is a very good line! I should put it in one of my books!" Varric grinned. "It's simple, really. There is no Archdemon, no leader, the horde is strong but trust me when I tell you that it isn't nearly as strong as it was in the Fifth Blight when it did have a leader. The horde is disoriented because we've had two Archdemons and a goddess trying to lead it in the last few months, darkspawn no longer knows whom to follow. Present them with a new leader, and they will unite behind that entity. Defeat that leader, and they will retreat into the earth like with every other Blight."

"We have to make it worse before we can defeat it," Neve's face lit up.

"Let someone else take the heat of the newly formed horde," Varric smiled.

"Someone whose duty it is to fight darkspawn..."

"Let them be the heroes..."

"Genius..."

They drank a toast.

"Davrin should rejoin the Wardens then," Neve looked up. "He'll be a mole otherwise."

"You mean his Warden sense?" Varric looked around, then smiled, spotting Davrin in the far corner of the hall kissing Bellara behind a column. "I think he found someone more exciting to sing songs to him!" He laughed. "Bellara is a Dalish elf, a very talented elf with a deep connection to the Fade, like few elves have. While Davrin is only a part elf... I suppose you figured that out?" Varric shot a glance at Neve noticing her surprise. "Just look at him... It's been a thousand years since humans landed here, Neve! Of course there are halflings everywhere. Nothing wrong with that as such, my point being that his elven connection to the Fade is weaker than average, he doesn't actually know what makes an elf an elf, apart from the ears... And Bellara is teaching him that... in her own unique way..." Varric paused, watching a barely perceptible cloud of shimmering mist envelop Davrin and Bellara.

"And you think that the Fade dulls his Warden sense?" Neve was watching them too.

"Undoubtedly."

"Hmm... May be." Neve wasn't convinced. "And may be it doesn't matter," she dismissed it. "Who will lead the Blight? I assume you've already chosen."

"Oh yes," Varric smiled. "But it is... delicate. The Emissary will want payment, too - red lyrium."

"The Emissary? A darkspawn Emissary?" Neve looked alarmed. "Red lyrium? Have you gone mad?!"

"Not really, no," Varric smirked. "He didn't want any crystals, just someone seeded with it. Someone who would not die in the first day or two. Someone who had magic in them. He is quite intelligent, you know, and has no intention of dying. His 'defeat' will be teleportation, I am not entirely sure how, but I am sure he will pose no threat to us for a very long time. He's got other plans."

"This is madness, Varric," Neve was sitting on the edge of her chair. "How long is that very long time?"

"Longer than our lifetimes," he smiled. "A hundred years or more, what do I know?" He shrugged.

"He wants to be a real Archdemon," Neve realised.

"Yes."

"So... whom have you seeded?" Neve's voice sounded hoarse as she took another sip of her red wine.

"Well... no one... yet," Varric smiled. "Cheer up, Neve! Payment is only due at the very end, and he's already rallying up the horde against the old head quarters fortress. Sit back and relax! After all, you are the Tevinter Messiah!"


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

Wow, Lena gets busted for skooma! In fact this entire segment



It's a typical repeat of what happens when we get caught, and Pay the Fine. So they're walking by the same horses grazing on grass. Then two hours later they're walking by horses grazing on grass...

Elephants are hostile in this land? Bummer. 🐘

Looks like the water keeper has a dinosaur in that one picture. Yeah it's nice to finally find some place to rest. I get the feeling that you're doing a first-run playthrough of Elsweyr during these chapters, eh?

oops -- http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=341358

Yes, I went exploring Elsweyr and Valenwood and these are the stories from there. I haven't been back yet but there are plans... for some time in the future...

First Seed, 3E411 - Lovers

Dorian was standing near the entrance of the Grey Warden Head Quarters in the Anderfels looking over the hills leading to it, covered in darkspawn corpses. Darkspawn attacks were now happening every day, and even he started sensing them approach, despite not being a Grey Warden himself - his blight infection allowed him to sense other blighted beings.

"My blight must be deepening," he was thinking. "I can sense darkspawn now... well... when they are practically on top of us, but still... They say darkspawn can sense Grey Wardens just as well as Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn... I am not darkspawn yet... oh boy..." He shook his head and decided not to tell Anders or Avernus about his new sense, although he realised it was pointless - they would sense it. "So then why continue with blood treatments?" He noticed a corpse of an ogre among the lesser darkspawn. "To keep it from taking over too quickly... to give me time... Time for what?" He searched for a creature that was leading the darkspawn, an Emissary perhaps, or even a Hurlock Alpha, but there wasn't such a corpse on the ground. "Time to gather the courage to drink from the Joining Cup..." He smirked at himself. "Magister Pavus... Narrowly missed becoming the Archon of Tevinter... soon to be a Grey Warden... or die... one way or the other..."

"You do not have to survive the Joining to become a Grey Warden," he heard Anders' voice behind him. "You become a Grey Warden before you drink from the Cup. The sacrifice of those Wardens that did not survive the Joining, is perhaps the greatest of all."

"You read my mind?" Dorian smirked.

"No, I guessed," Anders stood next to him. "You've been coming here every day for the past week, looking at the darkspawn corpses. You can sense them now, right? Oh, I've seen so many blighted people... I am a healer, remember?" He smiled, hugging Dorian around the shoulders. "The blood treatments that we give you, can only slow the progression, they cannot change the outcome... and I know how it progresses..."

"And all those other people don't get even that..." Dorian nodded.

"We've only just discovered..."

"I know, I didn't mean..." Dorian turned to face Anders, hugging him too. "I didn't mean any rebuke..." He touched Anders' face, their eyes met. "There's no longer any need to hold back" - Lucanis' words sounded in his mind. Anders wasn't just a friend... if only Dorian had allowed himself to see it earlier...


~~~~~~~~~~
In this episode Anders and Dorian discuss some very personal matters stretching back to the events during Inquisition. I judge it unsuitable for this forum, although it contains no explicit scenes. The unabridged version is published on my website (hint: the title of this episode is a link).

First Seed, 3E411 - Scouts

"It's an Emissary!" Harding put her head through the door of a bedroom in the Grey Warden Head Quarters. "Hey guys! Wake up!"

"Hmm..?" Anders opened one eye. "Who's an emissary? Huh? Harding..?"

"Yeah, I know, it's barely dawn," she entered the room, closing the door behind her. "But I have news."

"Good or bad?" Lucanis woke up too. "Does it have to be this early in the morning?"

"It does. I am being watched." Harding looked over her shoulder as if expecting someone to stand there. "I have this weird feeling... like my skin is crawling..."

"What?!" That got Anders' full attention and he sat up. "Since when?"

"Since... umm... a week, may be?" Harding looked uncertain. "Why? Is this bad?" She sounded worried.

"Yes."

"May be."

Anders and Lucanis said together.

"You don't know it yet, don't worry her prematurely," Lucanis pointed out, getting out of bed. "I'll make coffee."

"Don't worry me about what?" Harding shifted uncomfortably. "Can you figure it out? One way or the other?"

"I can and I will," Anders got out of bed too and pulled on a robe.

"She's a dwarf," Lucanis said watching the coffee rise in the pot over the fire.

"Yes, but dwarves aren't immune to magic," Anders shook his head, sitting down on the floor before Harding. "They just can't cast their own... Let's see..." He cast a spell that covered Harding in shimmering mist.

"That tickles," she giggled.

"Does it now?"

Anders cast another spell and the cloud of mist became a sphere. He touched it, sending ripples along the surface.

"It's a benevolent spell," he concluded, dismissing the sphere. "Someone put a shield around you, but not like anything I've seen before... hmm..."

"If it's benevolent, there's nothing to worry about," Lucanis concluded, handing Anders his coffee and Harding her tea. "It's good to have friends."

"A shield..?" Harding moved her shoulders. "Well... it fits with what I came to tell you..." She took a sip of her tea gathering her thoughts. "Varric found a darkspawn Emissary to lead the horde, at least the one around here. His plan is to defeat the Blight, but it involves destroying Grey Wardens in the process... what's left of them..." She sighed. "He reasons that the horde is confused because we've had two Archdemons and a goddess trying to lead it, and now that all three are dead, it is disoriented and not returning to the Deep Roads as it would normally do. He wants to give it a leader, let it rise and then slay the leader, thus pushing the horde into its usual cycle and making it retreat. But as there are no Archdemons currently... he found a darkspawn Emissary powerful enough to lead a large horde. He made a deal of some sort... it's one of those intelligent darkspawn, you know..." She shot Anders a glance and he nodded.

"That explains the attacks on this fortress. But if there is a deal, the Emissary will exact payment. What does he want?"

"That's the trouble - I don't know," Harding looked apologetic. "I got caught a couple of times, the game is up."

"You should come here then, stay with us," Anders said firmly. "Don't go back."

"But..." Harding started to argue, then gave up. "Oh, whom am I kidding? She won't even notice..."

"She already did," Anders smiled. "This shield around you... I think it's qunari magic. Stay here, Lace. Your life is in danger."

...

"A war of attrition then," Alistair summarised the news when Anders told him what transpired. "All we have to do is stay put and avoid losses. We won't be able to find this Emissary yet, we can't even sense him..."

"His taint blends in with the horde," Anders nodded. "But if there is to be a decisive confrontation, he'll eventually come to us."

"I wonder what he wants and what would be his payment?" Alistair mused.

"I can guess the payment," Anders said darkly. "Grey Warden blood to awaken more darkspawn. Or red lyrium. Or both."

"Like in that prison..?" Alistair sat up.

"Exactly like in that prison."

"He has no intention of dying then."

"This is the next Blight in the making."

"Damn."

...

It seemed they were not progressing but simply moving from one dilemma to the next. Varric's plan made sense in terms of suppressing the current Blight, but Grey Wardens could not accept that the trade-off should be the rise of the next one. They had to find and slay that Emissary, but not before he'd shown leadership of the horde, just as Varric planned.

"He is planning to escape..." Anders was talking to himself. "We must not allow him to escape... but how to stop him if we don't know what he's planning?"

He descended into the dungeons which were deserted, he wanted to think, to dream may be. Could he find answers in the Fade? So far, all roads led to it...

"May be Morrigan can help?" He wondered aloud. "Kieran said she'd be here... she isn't here yet... hmm..."

He turned a corner and pushed a door, entering a lavishly furnished bedroom, one of the "dungeon cells" for highly placed visitors that he'd discovered before. He shook his head at the red lava lamps and started pulling off his boots, not wanting to spoil the bed.

"Finally," a voice came from behind the curtains. "And take that robe off as well, while you're at it..."

"Taash?" Anders spun around. "What are you..?"

"Doing here?" She laughed. "Waiting for you, Kadash. I knew you'd come here sooner or later. To dream, yes? Well, I have news for you."

"Alright, let's hear it," Anders jumped onto the bed, sitting down to face Taash.

"Mythal will be here soon enough," Taash stretched out on the cushions. "She's in the Fade... The Emissary asked for red lyrium, or rather people seeded with red lyrium..." She frowned and shook her head. "It's as bad as it gets... Varric is seeding them."

"What?!" Anders nearly jumped. "He's a bastard, I always knew it, but this is madness! Varric would not do such a thing!"

"Well, he's changed... He's doing it." Taash was unwavering.

"Varric knows all too well what red lyrium does to people," Anders shook his head. "His brother... err... well... never mind that. Varric I know would never do that," he concluded firmly.

"Now you see why I put a shield around Harding," Taash smiled. "She's so... trusting... naïve even... She'd never believe it possible. Not her fellow dwarf... Not Varric... A bit like you now. I realise you went through a lot together during the Inquisition, but I'm telling you - he's changed."

"Whom is he seeding?" Anders looked grim.

"Whoever is around."

"Most will die."

"Some already have," Taash nodded. "A few folks in the village... This is bad, Kadash."

"He has to die then. The risk is too great."

"This is a trap," Taash looked at Anders sternly. "He is counting on you saying that. He wants you dead."

"But why?" Anders shook his head. "It isn't like him... We quarreled, I insulted him, I get it. He's bitter and sore, but sacrificing innocents in order to set a trap, wanting me dead for calling him names? No, that cannot be it."

"The village has been evacuated, I took care of that," Taash said simply. "There are just a few people left in the Keep... Davrin and Bellara, wrapped up in their romance... Neve... Harding and me..."

"Bellara and Neve... Davrin is a Grey Warden," Anders rubbed his face. "He won't seed him, he'll hand him over as is... But Bellara and Neve are both mages... ideal... We have to protect them."

"You never cease to amaze me, Kadash," Taash shook her head. "Neve tried to kill you... she probably still wants you dead, out of spite if anything... and you want to protect her?"

"Red lyrium... no... no one deserves that..."

"Well... I'll try... but I cannot protect them all..."

"No, Taash, you cannot... We need a different approach. We need to find out what happened to Varric, why he's changed. I'll talk to Harding, she's staying here..."

"Good!" Taash exclaimed a little too eagerly. "I mean... good."

"It's alright, your secret is safe with me," Anders laughed. "I know your qunari ways..."

...

"Are you sure this will work?" Varric stared at an elven mage, almost literally pinning her in place with his gaze. "It better work! Red lyrium is bad stuff..."

"It will work, Varric," the mage smiled at him. "It worked on me. They even booted me out of their Order! The one and only Grey Warden to lose her Warden sense... and the blight infection, too."

"But he isn't an elf, he's a human," Varric sighed. "It's not the same."

"It's close enough. It doesn't matter in this case."

"Well, you better be sure..." Varric shook his head, still very unsure himself. "Those people in the darkspawn prison... they didn't look very healthy with red lyrium in their bodies."

"Those people were not blighted. The blight changes everything."

"Hmm... I saw darkspawn handle red lyrium, but they didn't get cured... I don't know if I trust you, mage."

"Do you have a choice?" The mage smiled again. "Your friend is a lyrium addict, and he is also blighted. It won't be long before he dies, unless you take pity on him and kill him yourself. I am offering you a solution. Remember what happened to Samson."

"Samson went mad!"

"He didn't. But he overdosed. You only need the smallest amount..."

"No." Varric shook his head. "No. Red lyrium - no. If Hawke has to die, then he'll die, but he'll die a man and not a piece of darkspawn."

"Suit yourself," the mage shrugged. "I even know where to find an Emissary who could help you... but have it your way. Find me if you change your mind."

The mage smiled one last time, turned around and left. Varric shook his head and went back to the upper bedroom where Hawke was thrashing in his sleep.

"Now you got yourself into one hot mess," Varric sat next to his bed. "I don't know if I can fix it, Hawke." He touched Hawke's forehead - Hawke had a fever. "Time for your medicine," Varric decided, opening a small ornate box containing a vial of blue liquid. "Come on now, Hawke, just a drop..." He steadied Hawke's head on the pillow and opened his mouth, letting one drop of lyrium extract fall onto the tongue. "There..." Hawke swallowed instinctively, moaned slightly and turned over, breathing a lot easier. "At least you don't feel the pain when you are asleep..."

...

Varric couldn't sleep. The Emissary wanted a mage seeded with red lyrium in exchange for his services of acting as the leader of the darkspawn horde roaming the Anderfels. A mage that was strong enough to survive not just the seeding but also the growth - survive a few days after seeding, the most critical time. Varric tried seeding a local healer from the village, but that mage wasn't strong enough and died on the first day. "Probably wasn't even a proper mage," Varric shook his head. "I can't sense that..." He sighed and got up, taking a small key off a chain around his neck. The key opened a box near his bed, and from there he took out a letter.

He's weak but we're managing. He's got a few more months before things get dire. Do not rush it but also do not delay. Be careful.

He re-read the letter several times, he knew it by heart already. Do not rush it but also do not delay... The ritual would not take long, the mage assured him, but he needed to get the ingredients: red lyrium and darkspawn blood - not just from any darkspawn, it had to be "awakened", that is - intelligent. Wolf first encountered such darkspawn soon after the end of the Fifth Blight, but they had existed for a long time before that already. They ingested Grey Warden blood to break their dependency on the song of the Blight, with varying success. The Architect was still experimenting, still refining the formula. The discovery of red lyrium gave him something new to work with... because of course darkspawn knew of red lyrium long before Varric and the others discovered it during that ill-fated expedition into the Deep Roads. Red lyrium was lyrium infected with the Blight.

At first Varric did not want to hear of any "solution" that involved blood magic or red lyrium, but he was running out of options. Hawke contracted the blight somehow, and could not even explain how or when it happened exactly. His lyrium addiction made him forgetful, he would roam the streets of Kirkwall when withdrawal was setting in, and Varric would have to go looking for him and implore him to take the next doze. There was no cure from lyrium addiction! And Hawke was not Cullen - Cullen could shrug it off, Hawke could not. "Cullen didn't exactly shrug it off either," Varric was reflecting on the time of the Inquisition when Cullen quit the templars order and decided to stop taking lyrium overnight. Withdrawal nearly killed him several times, and Varric suspected that it was only Wolf's blood that kept Cullen alive, although he did not know what Wolf and Cassandra were doing exactly to make sure that Cullen always woke up in the morning.

One day a mage knocked on Varric's door, a mage he was acquainted with for many years, although never knew her well enough. It was Fiona, the leader of rebel mages during the Kirkwall uprising and the mage-templar war. She claimed to know a ritual that could purge both the blight and the lyrium addiction from Hawke's body, thus saving his life. It was a blood magic ritual of course, and it required a small amount of red lyrium and a few drops of blood from an "awakened" darkspawn. It was perfectly safe, she kept assuring Varric, and she knew it would work because that was how she lost her Grey Warden taint, which is of course the same thing as the Blight!

Varric did not believe her. He did not believe the story that Grey Warden taint could just "fizzle out". He made inquiries... and came up with absolutely nothing. She may or may not have been telling the truth... The Order of the Grey may have been corrupted somewhat, but it still kept its secrets.

A few months passed and the blight got hold of Hawke's body, causing him more and more pain. He started hearing the song... Lyrium helped with that a little, but not enough to blot it out, and the more lyrium he took, the more side effects he suffered... There was no way out.

It was then that one of Varric's connections informed him of a strange ritual being prepared in Minrathous by none other but Solas - the elven mage that Varric got rather friendly with during the time of the Inquisition. Rumour had it that Solas was Fen'Harel, an ancient elven god of lies... What rubbish! Solas was old, certainly, but elves had such long life spans. He was no god!

By coincidence or by design, Fiona re-appeared in Kirkwall just then, bumping into Varric on several occasions. Eventually Varric gave in and decided to ask her what she wanted in return for performing the ritual that would deliver Hawke from the clutches of the Blight.

"What I want is what everyone wants really - I want the Blight defeated once and for all," she smiled. "Or at least defeated well enough so that it leaves us alone for centuries, like before. Not for twenty years, but for centuries."

"I don't think I can do that," Varric laughed. "But I want that too."

"Well, then we are in agreement!" Fiona beamed at him. "You cannot do it yourself, granted. Grey Wardens have to do it, but they will need help... guidance even... The Order of the Grey is corrupt, my friend... they are no longer capable of dealing with darkspawn. The Blight is on the rise again, a mere two decades after an Archdemon was killed. Grey Wardens are not keeping us safe any longer."

"What makes you think that the Blight is on the rise?" Varric squinted. "There's always darkspawn about, they never really vanish. I haven't heard of any massive attacks anywhere..."

"Not yet, but you will before long, mark my words," she smiled. "So, if you are willing to get involved... to guide Grey Wardens to victory... then I shall save your friend."

"I see," Varric squinted. "And what is your personal interest in this? Because this isn't payment."

"I wish to keep that private," Fiona declined to answer. "I assure you that it has nothing to do with you or your friend and will not harm you in any way."

"I don't like it... I am going to regret it, I know it!" Varric threw his hands in the air. "But if I don't do it, Hawke will die... and if you're right about the Blight and the Wardens... we all will die... arrghhh..."

It was the most unbelievable and unlikely story that Varric could imagine, and so it was probably true. Something about it rang true anyway. Another Blight... the Wardens not up to the task... after the great fiasco with Warden-Commander Clarel during the Inquisition, Varric could believe they were not up to the task...

"Alright, I'll do it," he turned to Fiona. "Where do I begin?"

"I am glad you agreed, Varric," she beamed at him, signaling the bartender. "We drink a toast to this! It is no small task, but you can do it. Start by talking to Solas in Minrathous. Bring a friend... a Grey Warden... but one that is rough around the edges... how about... Anders, from Ferelden? You know him, I believe?"

"Blondie?" Varric laughed. "Oh yes. Rough around the edges and then some..."

"Make him the leader... but of course the real leader will be you," she winked. "Talk to Solas, like I said... the rest will fall into place as you proceed."

...

"The rest will fall into place..." Varric smirked, remembering Fiona's words. He did as she asked, he got Anders to come along and went to talk to Solas who was... tearing down the Veil! Solas was in the process of destroying the world, Blight and all... Varric could not believe it, and yet there it was... Solas was Fen'Harel... "What a hot mess!" He swore. "But we are making progress. The Blight will be defeated and Hawke will be saved. It will only take one sacrifice... one more sacrifice..." He corrected himself, remembering the village healer who did not survive the seeding. "Neve or Bellara?"

First Seed, 3E411 - Viper

"You aren't as unapproachable as people make you out to be," Neve kissed Anders on the mouth. "I liked that."

"What?" Anders looked at her in bewilderment. "Neve? What..? Where are we?" He propped himself on an elbow and looked around. They were in one of those luxurious rooms furnished for discerning customers, with silks in velvets, furs and lace. A large and comfortable bed took centre stage. It wasn't a four-poster bed of the North, but rather a low bed of warmer climes, strewn with cushions on and around it. A guilded waterpipe and an elegant red brass coffee set were placed on a low table intricately inlaid with rare woods, mother-of-pearl and abalone shell. The lighting was soft, coming from beautifully wrought brass lamps, some of which were burning sweet incense... "Are we in the Fade?" Anders looked at Neve again. "No... it doesn't feel like the Fade..."

"It isn't the Fade," Neve shook her head. "I always knew you could tell the difference. We are in Minrathous."

"Which brothel?" Anders smirked.

"It's... well... it isn't technically a brothel," Neve gave a short laugh. "Well, very few people know that it is one, in fact. It is a very respectable establishment... But since I know their little secret, they let me use this room without charge. I had to bring you somewhere special," she beamed at him.

"So you knocked me on the head and teleported," Anders rubbed a throbbing spot on the base of his skull. "Why?"

"You interest me," Neve smiled, stroking his face. "No, really."

"Aha," Anders took another look at himself and Neve. "But you didn't strip me naked."

"That is so... unrefined," Neve cringed. "We'll get to that in time, I'm sure."

"Is there any coffee in that pot?" Anders pointed at the coffee set on the low table. "My head needs clearing."

"We can get fresh coffee..." Neve pulled on a cord behind her. "Sweets, too... whatever... just... stay with me a while, will you?" She sounded pleading and Anders was taken aback. This wasn't the arrogant and self-assured investigator that he knew so far, this was a woman in need of a friend... Or at least that was how it sounded, and Anders had to remind himself that Neve was an excellent performer, too.

"I'll stay because you'll need to teleport me back to the Anderfels," he got up from the bed and stretched. "There's no point in me just walking out of here if we're in Minrathous. It will take me days to get back. Besides, I want to know why you did this."

"Varric wants to seed me with red lyrium and deliver me to a darkspawn Emissary in exchange for the Emissary's assistance in defeating the Blight," Neve said in one breath like a well-rehearsed speech. "Please help me!"

"I see," Anders nodded. "So, first you try to kill me, and now you ask for my protection?" He smirked, turning to her.

"Yes," she answered in a small voice.

"Ah, here is coffee," there was a knock on the door and Anders answered it, letting in a servant with a tray of coffee and sweets. "I want to know everything, Neve," he said, pouring the coffee. "Why did Solas want me dead? Why is Varric seeding people with red lyrium? Why do you think I can protect you?"

"You don't know?" Neve smiled, sitting down by the coffee table. "No, I guess you do... you just want to hear me say it... hear what I know..." She squinted at him. "You aren't very good at concealment, Anders," she smirked.

"I am not trying to conceal anything," he shook his head. "I am quite an open book..."

"Rubbish."

"Oh?"

"You make people believe you're not that much of a mage while in fact it's the opposite," Neve offered.

"I never made people believe any such thing," Anders shrugged. "People believe it all by themselves for some reason and then get surprised when I knock them out or slit my wrists."

"You are not saying it but you behave like a mage who isn't much of a mage... You behave like a loser!" Neve frowned.

"Oh, because I drink, sleep around and get into bar fights?" Anders laughed.

"Yes. Tevinter is in many ways a very conservative country."

"I guess I don't fit the mold."

"And then Dorian goes and buys you as a slave, and that just confirms everyone's suspicions, especially when it becomes obvious what Dorian wanted with you..." Neve rolled her eyes. "Sex rather than magic."

"Dear Dorian," Anders smiled. "We worked very hard on that particular impression."

"Not everyone was sold on it, however," Neve nodded.

"But Neve... This is all very amusing but it doesn't answer my question. Why did Solas want me dead?"

"He didn't explain," Neve looked down. "And I didn't insist... What he was offering me was worth to me not asking questions."

"Magister Gallus."

"That, yes," Neve looked up. "But mostly proof that your Chantry is wrong and we did not corrupt the Golden City!"

"You haven't got that proof yet," Anders pointed out. "You have just found proof that humans did not destroy Arlathan because it was already destroyed during the elven civil war."

"Well... yes," Neve nodded. "I didn't get everything I wanted... hmm... And then you went and turned Solas to stone!" She added indignantly.

"Oh, forgive me for saving us all from imminent annihilation!" Anders picked up her tone.

"You didn't have to rush with that!" Neve raised her voice some more.

"Is that why you tried to confuse Emmrich?" Anders smiled. "Perhaps even kill him?"

"But it didn't work, so forget it."

"No, I won't forget it." Anders got up and walked around the room, a bowl of dried figs and dates in his hand. "You opposed us on every step of the way, starting with the runes for Zara. Oh yes, I remember those!" He cut off Neve's objections. "You had placed those runes knowing full well what that pool was for! Blood magic didn't bother you then as it doesn't bother you know, and I shall not hear anything to the contrary! Lucanis was right - there's more than one kind of a blood mage."

"So you won't help me," Neve said in a fallen voice.

"I didn't say that," Anders replied softly.

"What? What do you mean?" Neve looked confused. "You are a very confusing person, Warden Anders."

"I usually go with the heart," he nodded. "But at the same time I have to be sure I'm not allowing a viper make a nest inside my robe."

"A viper..." Neve shook her head. "I suppose that's deserved." She glanced at her leg prosthesis that was shaped as a viper. "What kind of assurance do you want?"

"Nothing you can say will matter..." Anders shook his head. "You understand that, I hope?" He looked straight at her. "You are an adversary to us, and even if I might be inclined to... well... never mind... but others will not accept it, and with a good reason. Lucanis will kill you and that will be the end of it."

"He's got a contract on my life, yes," Neve nodded. "The Antivan Crows do not relinquish their contracts. It is you I have to thank for the fact that I am still alive, isn't it?" She looked up.

"It is," he nodded.

"Then you can convince Lucanis to drop that contract!" Neve sounded hopeful.

"I do not meddle in the affairs of the Antivan Crows," Anders shook his head. "It's up to him."

"But he's your..!" Neve cut herself off.

"Lover?" Anders smirked.

"Special friend," Neve offered. "More than just a lover."

"And it still changes nothing."

"So... I am to die soon anyway," Neve sighed. "Then nothing matters."

"What are you asking me to do, exactly?" Anders sat down facing her. "You said you wanted my help, but how? You knew about the contract on your life, you knew everything... What is it you are expecting of me, Neve?"

"A miracle..." She whispered. "I think Varric seeded me already..." She rolled up her sleeve to show tiny red dots forming rows under her skin. "That's what it looks like, isn't it?" She looked up at Anders. "You know what it looks like... I've heard you've seen people who'd been seeded... It's true, isn't it? And this is it..?"

Anders ran his finger over the rash.

"Take off your clothes," he said, looking up.

"I thought you'd never ask," Neve laughed. "I wish it wasn't in order to check on my red lyrium infection though..."

"Neve..." Anders sighed. "Cut that out. You don't have to sleep with me to get my help."

"I wouldn't mind, myself," Neve kept up the joking tone.

"Neve!" Anders shook his head.

"What? You aren't exactly the timid type!"

"I am no push-over either."

"I beg to disagree!" Neve sounded furious for some reason.

"Huh?" Anders stopped following the trail of red dots with his eyes and looked Neve in the eye instead. "Why are we quarreling over this? Why do you care?"

"No, not answering that," Neve shook her head. "Here, look at the rash on my body. I've got it on the arms but no where else, as far as I can tell. How is my back looking?"

"You've got some on the back as well," Anders ran his finger over another row. "But none of it protrudes through the skin yet, it's just colour at this point."

"What am I going to do..?" Neve let herself fall on the cushions. "I can't feel anything... does it hurt much? When does it start to hurt?"

"Hmm... Here, come lie on the bed," Anders helped her up. "Let me examine your back properly... I can't sense anything... this is... odd..."

"What did you expect to sense?" A trace of hope appeared in Neve's voice.

"Red lyrium, what else?" Anders shrugged, still trying to sense it. "But this rash... why, it just feel like paint, a tattoo perhaps... I can see it but there's no magic in it at all..."

"Huh... That is odd," Neve agreed, sitting up. "What does this mean?"

"I wish I knew," Anders shrugged. "I cannot sense anything wrong with your health." He got up and walked back to the low table, pouring himself another cup of coffee. "You may get dressed."

"Thank you, Healer," Neve whispered, picking up her clothes.

"That's what you wanted from me - to look at the rash, right?" Anders sat back on the cushions. "Well, it is odd, but I don't think it's red lyrium seeding."

"That's... well... it isn't exactly a relief because now I have to wonder what it is and how I got it... and whether it's a sign of a seeding still to come," Neve sighed.

"Do you know why Varric is doing it?" Anders asked. "We quarreled, granted, but he avoids red lyrium above all else... can't see him getting mixed up in something like that unless something else was seriously wrong."

"He needs to have a person seeded to deliver to the Emissary," Neve shrugged. "But you mean why he's involved in all this... hmm... I have no clue."

"The Blight must be defeated, sure, but we cannot let that Emissary escape," Anders was musing. "It's no secret, of course... Yes, we already know of his plans... and you knew that we knew," he smirked. "Grey Wardens cannot agree to drive back one Blight at the cost of preparing another."

"So what is your plan?" Neve sat down by the table with a cup of coffee.

"We'll play it by ear," Anders shrugged. "We listen to the song... at some point, there will be a clue and we'll act."

"And that is the great strategy of the Order of the Grey - play it be ear?" Neve smirked. "Your reputation does not stand up to scrutiny."

"Who cares," Anders shrugged. "We certainly don't. Grey Wardens are loathed and detested as much as we are revered... We don't fit the mold."

"Can I come and stay with you? Away from Varric?" Neve suddenly asked.

"No."

"But..."

"Sorry, Neve, but you knew the answer before you asked the question," Anders gave her a long look.

"Yes, I did..." Neve sighed. "It's like you said - there is nothing I can say to change your mind..."

"Don't go back to the Keep," Anders shrugged. "Since you can teleport... Return me to the Anderfels but stay here yourself. Since your rash does not appear to be red lyrium seeding, just stay away from Varric." He looked at her and smiled - that was the best he could do.

"And forego the chance to get that proof that Tevinter Magisters did not corrupt the Golden City?" Neve shook her head. "If not for me, then for my homeland!"

"It's just for you, Neve," Anders said softly. "Let it go and live. Pursue it and sell your soul."

"That brief moment of glory..." Neve smiled at something that only she could see. "The Magisterium standing up in ovation... People in the street cheering..." She paused and closed her eyes. "I have no money to live the life associated with such glory," she said in an unexpectedly mundane tone. "Lucanis better kill me then, or the rest of it will be just shame." She smirked, noticing Anders' surprise. "Oh yes, Tevinter society puts many demands on its Magisters, in particular prominent ones. Not being gay is the least of them and Dorian has no clue what real pressure is like. I cannot become rich the same as he cannot stop being gay!" She exclaimed with anger. "All doors are closed to me simply because I am not rich! He has no idea..!"

"Is that why you resent him so much?" Anders asked quietly. "For his family fortune?"

"For the fact that he gets to play the persecuted pariah while his problem is so minuscule! He is gay! Big deal! Who cares?! He has no idea what real problems are like!!" Neve got angry, her face was red and sparks started gathering in her clenched fists.

"I don't think you know what it entails to be openly gay in Tevinter," Anders spoke calmly but coldly. "And you don't know Dorian at all."

"And don't want to! That pampered fool!"

"I see." Anders got up. "Thank you for the coffee, I'll find my own way out."

He turned around and left the room, to Neve's astonishment. It appeared that he preferred to spend several days journeying back to the Anderfels to staying any longer in the same room with her. Perhaps she misspoke. Could the rumours be true? Could there be something more between Anders and Dorian after all..? The investigator in Neve was awakened and she reached for her notebook packed with newspaper clippings on that very controversial act by Magister Pavus when he bought a blood mage as a slave... but what if... what if... it wasn't magic or sex... what if it was love..?


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

First Seed, 3E411 - A path ahead

"Where is Anders?" Dorian asked Lucanis after another battle with darkspawn. "He was not among us."

"He's been disappearing to some place to think," Lucanis shrugged. "May be he missed the battle?"

"He would have sensed it," Dorian shook his head. "Unless of course he was dreaming... caught up in the Fade... hmm... I suppose it's possible. Alright, let's give it another day."

Anders had a habit of seeking out a solitary place to gather his thoughts and to travel the Fade in his sleep and it was nothing unusual for him to disappear for half a day or a day, but he always came back when darkspawn attacked. Lucanis wasn't worried because he was certain that if Anders had been in danger, Spite would have warned him, and although the incident in the snow was still vivid in his memory, this time things didn't feel the same. "I might be mad going by my feeling alone," Lucanis was thinking. "He might be in danger... but where would I even start to look?" He shook his head and decided to wait.

Another day had passed and still there was no sign of Anders, not even when darkspawn attacked again.

"This isn't right," Alistair caught Dorian and Lucanis after the battle. "Where is he?"

They decided to search the fortress in case Anders wanted to dream, fell asleep somewhere and his spirit got trapped in the Fade. His body would then slowly wither in Mundus and they had to find it while he was still alive. Dorian led them to the rooms in the dungeons that Anders had shown him earlier, but they were deserted.

"This door should be blocked," Lucanis was shaking his head. "This is a back door into the fortress, anyone could get in through here! We could have an assassin walk in our midst without realising it!"

"We'll block it once Anders is found," Alistair nodded. "In case he decides to use it to return..."

Their search yielded no results. Harding volunteered to go search the Keep where Varric and his followers were staying, claiming that she knew all the ways in and out of it as well as every secret tunnel and passage. It would take a while but if Anders was there, she'd find him. And while she was at it, Avernus attempted to find Anders in the Fade... but he was not in the Fade.

"So where is he?" Lucanis started to worry. "It's been three days."

"Two and a half," Alistair corrected him. "He'll turn up."

"Let's hope he won't turn up dead!" Lucanis retorted darkly. No one could promise him it would not be the case.

...

Anders didn't sleep. He wanted to get back to the Anderfels as quickly as possible. When he stepped out of the room where Neve had brought him, he saw that she was telling the truth - they were in Minrathous, and thus it would take him several days to travel back. He hired the fastest horse from the best coach house and set off. He changed horses frequently, stopping at each coach inn along the way, leaving the tired horse behind and hiring a fresh one. All he had to do was mention that he was a slave of House Pavus of Minrathous, and his requests were immediately attended to. "Dorian will find a pile of bills when he gets back," he smirked, realising that the bills would likely be inflated. "So be it."

Anders reached the Grey Wardens Head Quarters fortress in the Anderfels late on the fourth day.

"Who goes there?" A Warden at the stables challenged him, then gasped, recognising the rider. "Anders? Good grief! You look like you hadn't slept a week!"

"Not a week, just four days," Anders grinned. "Where's Lucanis?"

"Dunno, not following him around," the Warden shrugged. "But try the training grounds... that's where I'd be if I were him... shredding the dummies..."

Anders nodded and went straight there, avoiding the main hall or any other areas where he was likely to meet anyone. He wanted to see Lucanis first.

Lucanis was indeed shredding the dummies on the training grounds. Waiting was not his thing, it wasn't the same kind of waiting as when he was the one setting an ambush - he could wait in an ambush for as long as it took - but this waiting was powerless, he could do nothing, yet something had to be done... "I'll give it till dawn," he told himself. "If he doesn't show up by then... hmm... then something..." He didn't know what he'd do, but he felt he could not wait any longer.

"Luca?" Anders walked into the training courtyard. "That dummy is already dead..."

Lucanis spun around, half expecting to have imagined it. But no, Anders was walking towards him, a travel cloak still wrapped around him, looking tired but alive. Lucanis slung his sword into the scabbard. They hugged.

"You smell of the road," Lucanis finally said. "Horses, mud, sweat. What happened?"

"Neve," Anders grimaced. "Knocked me on the head and teleported."

"Oh?"

"Oh. Yes." He sighed. "Seeking out solitary spots to think does have disadvantages..."

"I won't say I told you so..."

"But you told me so," Anders laughed. "Perhaps I should have listened."

"What did she want?"

"She thought she'd been seeded with red lyrium and needed me to look at the rash on her skin," Anders said evenly. "But you know what - it was fake. Now I am confused."

"Neve asked you for help?" Lucanis laughed. "Without trying to kill you this time?"

"Without," Anders nodded.

"And why did you return on horseback rather than through that teleport?" Lucanis squinted.

"It was something she said... about Dorian," Anders smiled timidly. "I didn't like it."

"You threw a tantrum."

"No, I quietly walked out."

"Instead of having her teleport you back - that's a tantrum."

"Well... I guess... I just..."

"I know, it's in your nature," Lucanis smiled. "You do not compromise."

"Hmm..."

"Come. Let's show you around so that the rest of us could call off the search."

"The search..?"

"Did you think we'd just allow you to disappear?"

...

"A fake rash?" Alistair shook his head. "Are you sure? But why?"

"That's what I find so strange too," Anders nodded. "It's a colour deposit or a tattoo of sorts, made to look like the early stages of red lyrium seeding. But there is no magic in it..."

"Varric having second thoughts about it?" Dorian looked up. "He would be the last person to resort to red lyrium... I find it all extremely odd."

"As do I," Anders agreed. "After all he's gone through with it..." He shook his head.

"And yet someone died from red lyrium seeding," Emmrich reminded them. "As Taash reported."

"He seeded someone, that person died and now he could not do it again?" Alistair mused.

"May be..."

"This does not change our course of action, however," Avernus spoke up. "Neve will have to look after herself, Bellara also. Davrin... he should hear the call. We have to find the Emissary and keep tabs on him until the time comes to kill him. If we get distracted by Varric's motivations, we will miss the chance to act."

"True," Anders agreed. "But also... it is not just unusual for Varric to turn to red lyrium, there is no way he would have thought of it himself. He is clearly trying to fix something through this... someone put this idea into his head, offered a solution, something like that. That person will likely try to prevent us from finding the Emissary. Which is why I want to get to the bottom of it."

"This too makes sense," Alistair agreed. "Both of you are right," he looked at Avernus and Anders. "We shall split forces. Avernus - keep listening to the Blight, Anders - get to the bottom of Varric's mystery. If only Morrigan was here..."

"She is here," Morrigan walked in just then. "Didn't Kieran tell you I was on my way?" She looked at their surprised faces. "You won't find the Emissary here, he is of course in the Fade. But I can locate him. Only it is too early. Killing him now will not stop the Blight."

"Morrigan!" Alistair exclaimed. "For once, I am so glad to see you!"

"Oh, how nice," she grimaced. "I think I preferred you grumpy, actually..."

"Really?" Anders stared at them in disbelief. "You are two still going on about it? It's been twenty years!"

"Well, I think of it every time I see him," Morrigan pouted her lips. "But I suppose we can set it aside..."

"Just what exactly happened?" Dorian looked amused. "Oh come on, tell us! We weren't there, and we are so eager to join in the fun!"

"It wasn't just once, either..." Alistair squinted. "More like every morning when... ugh!!!"

"You were just jealous," Morrigan retorted.

"Me?! Jealous?! I am no Zevran!!" Alistair was indignant.

"Not jealous for sex, but for attention," Morrigan smiled. "Your Warden friend wasn't there to hold your hand when the Archdemon sang..."

"STOP IT!!!" Anders bellowed. "That's unfair, Morrigan. You have no idea what that is like. And Alistair... we need her! Again. Yes, again."

"Does that rivalry never die down?" Lucanis was watching the scene, fascinated. "Like you say, it's been twenty years..."

"For the first ten of which Morrigan was nowhere to be seen," Alistair pointed out. "Then she re-appeared during the Inquisition..."

"I had my reasons..." Morrigan glared at him.

"Kieran," Anders tried to calm them once again.

"Kieran who didn't start out as a kid but rather as a vessel for a twisted ancient soul!" Alistair barked.

"Not twisted! But pure! That was the point!!!" Morrigan went pale with anger.

"I think you're only making it worse," Dorian said quietly to Anders who was about to intervene again. "May be they just need to get it out."

"You tricked him into getting your pregnant!!!" Alistair raised his voice.

"I tricked no one!! I explained clearly what the ritual would produce!!! You're just jealous I didn't ask you instead!!"

"WHAT?!!!!" Alistair seemed to have flown into a rage. "Me?!!! Sleep with you?!!! Have you gone mad, witch?!!!"

Everyone took a step back because Morrigan had sparks around her fingers and Alistair had a peculiar glow, just like the glow of a templar sword used in a cleansing strike...

They kept glaring at each other for a good minute, if not more. Then, somehow, they both calmed down, with the sparks and the glow fading away.

"Wolf isn't here to stop us arguing," Alistair said with an unsteady voice. "I miss him. Yes, I miss my friend... so there." He shook his head and sat down.

"You two almost stopped being friends over me," Morrigan lowered her voice and also sat down.

"Almost."

"Which was another reason why I stayed away," she sighed. "I had to keep the spirit in Kieran pure, yes, but also I didn't want to keep coming between you... as strange as it may sound..."

"I still cannot accept some of the things you said..." Alistair shot her a glance.

"I was young and didn't see the need for diplomacy," Morrigan smiled. "And neither did you."

"No..." Alistair sighed. "Have we changed?"

"Changed? No," Morrigan said slowly. "We're still pretty much at the opposite sides of those same things that we could not agree on... but may be it doesn't matter."

"How did Wolf manage to keep the peace?" Emmrich asked with interest.

"He agreed with Morrigan on some things and with me on others, and mostly he just had his own opinions about everything... such as blood mages..." Alistair shot a glance at Anders who grinned. "He was right about that, as it turned out..."

"He was right about most things..." Dorian mused. "And mostly, he had a way with people... Being honest went a long way..."

"Stop talking about father as if he is dead!" Kieran entered the room.

"We miss him, Kieran," Anders said softly. "Everyone here who knew him, misses him. He's not dead, but he isn't with us either. And he won't ever come back..."

"But mum can talk to him in the Fade, can't you, mum?" Kieran looked at Morrigan. "I know you can."

"I can..." she nodded. "He is not dead. Zevran is with him. But I have to leave him alone, or else he won't be living his life... he'd be constantly looking back, not forward... that's no way to live. I cannot come with him, and so I have to let him go." She pulled Kieran close and hugged him. "Love isn't about yourself, it's about the other person..." She let go of Kieran and straightened up. "I came to tell you that I know who is behind the Emissary." She looked at all of them in turn. "Fiona."

"Fiona?" Alistair sat up, paling. "The..?"

"The leader of the mage rebellion, yes," Morrigan nodded. "I've been watching her for a while already because... well... because Wolf didn't trust her," she smiled. "She made waves in the Fade looking for such an Emissary. I don't know what she wants with him, but she is involved."

"She is a powerful mage..." Anders mused. "I'll go after her."

"Like - where?" Dorian shook his head. "Do you even know how to find her?"

"I'll blow up a Chantry," Anders grinned. "I think that other Anders in Kirkwall was her doing."

"Hmm... Which Chantry?" Dorian squinted.

"How about the one in Minrathous?" Anders was laughing now. "Tevinter had so far managed to stay out of the Blight or the mage-templar wars, that's unfair, don't you think?"

"There is no need to blow up any actual buildings, in fact," Dorian smirked. "All we need to do is make it look like it happened... If it's in the papers, it must be true, right?" He winked.

"Oh, Magister Pavus has a cunning plan!" Emmrich laughed. "But isn't it going to backfire to have your slave blow up the Chantry?"

"House Pavus can take it," Dorian grinned.

"But Anders is no longer your slave," Lucanis pointed out. "You set him free."

"But the papers don't know that," Dorian winked. "Most people wouldn't care either. He's formally no longer my slave, but for most people, once a slave - always a slave..."

"We'll have Neve investigate it," Anders nodded.

"WHAT?!!!" Everyone turned to him.

"She's still in Minrathous, I'm sure," Anders shrugged. "Something I said... or didn't say... well... I think she stayed on for a bit... digging... So we'll give her something else to dig."

"That's... cutting it fine," Alistair shook his head. "But that's what you always do. Alright! We'll keep the fortress standing here, the Blight isn't ready yet... you've got time. Who's with you?"

"Dorian," Anders looked at him and he nodded. "Lucanis?"

But Lucanis shook his head. "I should return to Treviso. Caterina..."

"You're worried," Anders nodded.

"She's an old lady..." Lucanis sighed. "Besides, I still have unfinished business with that underwater prison. I wonder who's running it now?"

"I think I can guess..." Dorian smirked. "We'll see you there, Lucanis."

"It's time to tango," Anders said decisively and everyone sighed a sigh of relief, now that the waiting was over and a path ahead started emerging from the mist.

Rain's Hand, 3E411 - To blow up a Chantry

"We're back and will be staying a while, so get the kitchen going," Dorian was instructing the butler of the Pavus Manor. "Anders will be sleeping with me, so move his things, please... Yes, he is still a slave... contrary to what I said before... We are not expecting anyone else for now. Questions?"

"Will you be taking your meals here or at the Magisterium, My Lord?" The butler bowed slightly.

"Here." Dorian looked around. "Yes. I think it's best, considering..." He shot a glance at Anders.

"Unless we are out of town," Anders reminded him.

"Hmm... May be..." He hesitated a little, then turned to the butler again. "If anyone comes looking for me, such as Neve Gallus - Magister Gallus now - then tell them to contact me at the Magisterium. We are not expecting anyone here, except may be Emmrich... err... Professor Volkarin. Or Lucanis Dellamorte. But no one else. Except may be..."

"It's too complicated, Dorian," Anders pointed out. "Why not have them leave a note and send them to wait for us at the Swan?"

"That is an excellent idea!" Dorian's face lit up. "So then, anyone except Professor Volkarin and Lucanis Dellamorte is to leave a calling card and wait for me at the Swan. You don't need to mention Anders at all."

"Very well, My Lord," the butler answered evenly, ignoring Dorian's initial hesitation. "What should I say if they inquire about Warden Anders specifically?"

"Tell them... err... tell them..." Dorian shot Anders a glance.

"Tell them that you do not meddle in the affairs of the Order of the Grey," Anders suggested. "Will that work?"

"Yes," Dorian nodded. "Something like that. Depending on who is asking... use your discretion," he smiled.

"Very well, Sir," the butler bowed. "There are some letters and bills waiting for your attention in the study... when you have a moment."

"Ugh... what else?"

"What should I tell the servants regarding Warden Anders?" The butler straightened up, looking Dorian in the eye, quite unusual for a butler, Anders thought to himself.

"Don't say anything at first, but when they start gossiping, mention that he's still a slave, and yes, we have a Grey Warden for a slave, and besides he is my lover. Yes, that's it. And if anyone mentions blood magic... shut them up." Dorian grimaced. "The same story as last time."

"Will you be visiting the Magisterium at all?" The butler was still standing tall, asking those questions.

"I shall do," Dorian nodded. "Yes, I will. For how long, I cannot say, but I shall need to keep a finger on the pulse there. Which means... we have to rely on you for... well..."

"I understand, Sir," the butler smiled and nodded with a little bow. "Welcome home, Sir, Warden," he bowed again both to Dorian and Anders and left.

"He isn't just a butler, is he?" Anders grinned.

"He's as much a butler as you are a slave," Dorian nodded. "But no, he's a butler. And then some."

"You seem nervous." Anders poured them coffee just brought in by a servant whom Dorian immediately dismissed.

"I am nervous," he admitted. "In my own house! It's come to this."

"It's not about Neve, so what is it?" Anders sat facing him.

"The Magisterium," Dorian looked up. "The moment I enter that building... it is filled with very skilled mages... they will know I've contracted the blight."

"They will sense the taint," Anders nodded.

"Many of them are healers, or know healing at least," Dorian continued. "They will... I don't know what they'll do exactly... it's not forbidden to walk around while being infected..."

"But you think they might try to bar you from the Magisterium using your blight as an excuse."

"And right now, I need to be there!" Dorian became agitated. "I need to see Neve there for myself, I need to hear what people are saying, both about her and about all the new evidence that she brought... Fiona will be using it, no doubt."

"You don't look sick yet."

"Thanks to you and Avernus..." Dorian sighed. "But they'll sense it nonetheless."

"You can argue it's in early stages and only slowly progressing... It could be years before you're consumed, they know that."

"That will make no difference... people are afraid of the blight above all else... whatever the stage... they are not using common sense at all..."

"What about your butler?"

"Oh, he already knows," Dorian smirked slightly. "He sensed it of course. He knows some healing magic... But he did not say anything because there was nothing to say."

"The news of your blight will spread through Minrathous like wildfire."

"We have to be quick before it does."

"Quick with what?"

"Something even more spectacular... such as you blowing up the Chantry," Dorian smiled.

"Alright, what did you have in mind?" Anders finished his coffee and started on the dried figs and dates.

"It's like I said - you don't have to blow up any buildings," Dorian took a piece of paper and a pencil. "The archives at the back caved in some time ago, but it's at the back and hardly anyone knows about it. What we need is some fresh soil on that, some small fires, some dust and a lot of noise..."

"A few fireballs should do it."

"Then someone will call the City Guard who will find you in the middle of the rubble burning the Good Book..."

"They'll arrest me."

"They'll try but you'll resist."

"Blood magic?"

"No blood magic!" Dorian exclaimed with emphasis. "Or they'll have me buy you again! It's not a matter of funds, it's that... I won't be able to set you free again."

"I don't mind remaining your slave, you know that," Anders smiled. "House Pavus is the best in Minrathous, every slave will tell you that..."

"Don't start!"

"What I'm saying is that we may not be able to avoid it," Anders said soothingly. "Don't worry. If you have to buy me, then buy me. I have to be convincing resisting the City Guard."

"Try to escape."

"And go where?"

"Err... you have a point," Dorian conceded. "But you're supposed to have a plan!"

"Or not," Anders shrugged. "I'm a maniac, remember? I blew up the Chantry in Kirkwall and set off the mage-templar war... I had no plan then..."

"No, because it wasn't you."

"The other Anders had no plan either," Anders pointed out. "Or rather, Fiona had a plan: to start the mages rebellion."

"Whatever happened to that Anders?" Dorian suddenly realised that he didn't know it.

"He vanished," Anders shrugged. "Returned to the Grey Wardens and showed up in Ferelden, don't you know."

"Oh, I see." Dorian sighed. "It does fit, you have to admit. She thought of everything."

"Almost," Anders smiled. "The Order of the Grey did not take the fall for it."

"You think it was her goal?"

"May be... or may be not... I didn't think so at the time, but now..."

"What changed?"

"Something she told Wolf during the Inquisition... that she used to be a Grey Warden but her taint just 'fizzled out' and she was booted out of the Order." Anders refilled their coffee cups. "That's impossible. Unless she performed some complicated ritual to erase it..."

"Blood magic."

"More than just blood magic."

"Or else others would have used it to cure the blight."

"Exactly."

"So what then?" Dorian forgot about the coffee in his hand and nearly spilled it.

"I don't know exactly," Anders sounded uneasy. "I always thought she just lied... Wolf thought so, but wasn't entirely sure... it's too preposterous a lie, too blatant, too obvious... And now that Varric of all people is meddling in red lyrium... I wonder..."

"A ritual involving red lyrium and blood magic?"

"Red lyrium is lyrium carrying the Blight..."

"Hmm..."

"I am sorry... I don't know if we'll be able to use it to cure you," Anders said softly. "But I want to find out..."

"No... don't bother," Dorian looked up. "A blood magic ritual that also involves red lyrium... No. I'd rather drink from the Joining Cup."

"Yes... I understand," Anders smiled. "I could have tried to walk away too, but I chose not to."

"You think she is taking revenge on the Order of the Grey?"

"For what?" Anders shrugged. "Something must have happened... or may be didn't happen... may be Grey Wardens booted her out not because her taint was gone but because she went too far experimenting with the Blight... we can be finicky like that."

"The mage rebellion in Kirkwall had some very unusual forms of blood magic," Dorian said slowly. "Very unusual transformations and bindings. Unheard of..."

"Yeah, and the Knight-Commander Meredith was in possession of a red lyrium idol which corrupted her mind..."

"May be red lyrium played a much bigger role in all of that than we know..."

"May be it wasn't just the Knight-Commander Meredith who was in possession of such an idol..."

"It fits," Dorian nodded.

"And it changes nothing," Anders looked straight at him. "I am going to slit my wrists when the City Guard shows up. I shall knock them out and resume burning books. They will recover, more of them will turn up, eventually they'll arrest me. You will claim ownership. There is no other way, Dorian. We've got to do it right."

"Let's hope they won't kill you."

"They won't," Anders smiled. "I shall remind them that I am your slave."

"I have to buy you before we start."

"You have to."

Dorian sighed and shook his head. He did not like the idea, but there was no other way to guarantee that the City Guard would not simply kill Anders then and there. He rang for the butler and made arrangements. The butler wasn't surprised.

"This annuls me setting you free," Dorian said signing the papers. "Yes, we can do it in Tevinter... of course, I have to pay the fee again, but never mind." Then, turning to the butler, he added: "Make sure this is posted everywhere, the City Guard must be informed... down to the last one."

...

They did not talk much during dinner. They had to act quickly, before Dorian's blight infection became known. When they finished eating, Anders got up, ready to go out.

"I am going to show myself around town," he said. "I shall be drinking and getting into fights... fetch me from jail in the morning."

...

"Two nights drinking is enough, surely?" Dorian looked at Anders when he was ready to leave on the third night. "Everyone's heard of you already."

"Have they?" Anders smiled. "Take me out dancing then. Isn't it time for The Gay Vint?"

"That will expose my blight..." Dorian sighed. "Then tomorrow I go to the Magisterium. Very well. But you can't go dressed like this..." He looked Anders over, shaking his head at the shabby robe stained with blood and healing potions. "If you are to be my lover, you should look the part..."

...

"Dorian!" Several heads turned when Dorian and Anders entered The Gay Vint. "Back in Minrathous? We missed you!"

"Damien!" Dorian shook hands with the most flamboyant man in the bar. "Yes, we are back, as you can see."

"Indeed I can, indeed I can..." Damien took a step back, taking in Anders' appearance. "That's more like it... showing your colours, as it were," he smiled. "I don't remember you wearing silks and velvets last time..."

"Dorian insisted," Anders looked at him affectionately.

"Of course, of course! I knew it! I said so right from the start!" Damien was jubilant. "Music! A toast to Dorian! The man finally found someone he likes!"

...

"No one said anything about the blight," Anders pointed out when they were back at the manor.

"No, but they noticed, regardless," Dorian blocked the keyhole in their bedroom door and threw on the bolt. "No one needs to see just how you're keeping me alive. Or how much I hate these blood treatments..."

"You need them though," Anders sighed, exposing the blighted spot on Dorian's leg and taking out his dagger. "No one tried to avoid touching you, I noticed."

"Oh these people know you don't catch the blight through simple touch," he grimaced as Anders opened the wound and let his blood drop into it. "As long as we don't... ouch..! but I've got you now, and won't be... damn, that hurts... touching any of them in that way..."

"They would not want to run the risk, surely," Anders kept dripping his blood into the wound, trying to distract Dorian with conversation.

"Oh, most of them are not all that careful... you'd be surprised... are we done yet?!"

"Done." Anders rolled down the sleeve of his trusted healer's robe and started bandaging Dorian's leg. "Should be good for three days or so. Now, something for the pain..."

"No! Nothing for the pain!" Dorian protested. "I don't want you to take my pain again!"

"That's not what I had in mind," Anders smiled, casting a simple healing spell at Dorian. "Relax. Lucanis showed me another way to deal with pain... let's see if I can do for you what he did for me that night..."

Rain's Hand, 3E411 - Making waves in Minrathous

"Why, if it isn't Magister Pavus!" Several Magisters greeted Dorian when he entered the Magisterium. "We thought you abandoned us for good."

"I wouldn't dream of it!" Dorian replied radiantly. "I was away on business, that is all. I am back now."

"You were chasing after your escaped slave!" One of the Magisters stepped forward. "Such a rowdy and unruly fellow... why did you bother with him at all, Dorian? If it's a blood mage you wanted, there are plenty of capable elves to be had, with a much better understanding of hierarchy and authority..."

"It wasn't magic that he was after," another Magister interrupted. "Or not just magic, at least. He's sweet on blonds!"

"Blonds... that fellow isn't the only blondie around!" The first Magister retorted. "Why, there were several on the market the other day... younger and better looking, too!"

"And useless!" A third Magister joined in. "I've seen them. No brains at all in their blond skulls! Why do you think adults end up being sold as slaves? Because they are too stupid to lead lives of their own..!"

"Or because they get abducted," Dorian glared at him. "Don't say you didn't know."

"Awww, let's not get into those discussions again!" A fourth Magister spoke up. "It's been nice not to argue about slavery every hour of the day for a while! Slavery bad! Slaves are people! Tevinter laws are retarded! Really had enough of that for now!"

"And all of that is true," a fifth Magister said firmly. The crowd around Dorian was growing.

"You've made us all talk about slavery, see," the first Magister turned to Dorian. "Even when you aren't here. But it is all for naught. No one is actually thinking about changing those laws, because what would we do without our slaves? What would YOUR house do if suddenly all of your slaves were set free?"

"I would offer them jobs," Dorian shrugged. "And some of them would stay, I hope."

"Do those people even want slavery abolished?" One of the Magisters squinted. "As slaves, they are protected by the name of the House they belong to, they can drink and fight and commit crimes and the City Guard will not even whip them for that. As free people they would not survive a week on such behaviour."

"And what do you think happens to them after their master picks them up from jail?" Another Magister smirked. "They are in line for the next bleeding then."

"It does keep most slaves compliant," someone agreed. "As little as they like their condition, they still don't want to die..."

"But you didn't come here to talk about slavery again, did you, Dorian?" A shrewd looking Magister cut through the discussion. "You are here because of all those new claims by the illustrous Magister Gallus, our newest addition. Well, it is interesting, but ultimately unimportant."

"Unimportant? How so?" Dorian asked with interest. "I have yet to examine it for myself, but yes, I've heard of it, of course."

"Of course," the Magister smiled. "Well, the proof she brought shows that our ancestors did not destroy the elven Arlathan because it had already been destroyed by the elves themselves in their civil war. And that is all that it proves. It's a mighty important discovery for the elves - to know that they only have themselves to blame for their downfall. But for us, it is marginally unimportant. It reinforces our claim as victors, if anything."

"And yet the Assembly thought it important enough to make Neve Gallus a Magister," Dorian pointed out.

"Oh, it's a great little morsel proving our rights on this land... so yes, of course she was made a Magister. But it changes nothing."

"I don't think that Neve was trying to change anything," Dorian mused.

"No... you are quite right. Walk with me."

The Magister gestured Dorian to follow and they retreated into one of the alcoves and out of earshot of the rest.

"What are you saying, Rodrigues?" Dorian inquired quietly.

"She's been made a Magister but she isn't an important Magister," Rodrigues looked over his shoulder to make sure they were not overheard. "She cannot challenge what you're saying about slavery. How wrong it is."

"I don't think she cares about that," Dorian shook his head. "I think she's not done yet bringing proof."

"Oh yes? Then you know more than you let on," Rodrigues was interested. "Is that..." He paused uncomfortably. "Is that where you contracted the blight? In the Arlathan Forest?"

"Sensed it, have you?" Dorian sighed. "No, it was in one of the battles with darkspawn in the Anderfels. But it is all connected. And yes, I've been to the Arlathan Forest and met her there. There is more proof to be had, but it isn't easy to obtain."

"I should think not!" Rodrigues nodded. "What are you doing about the blight?"

"What is there to do about the blight?" Dorian smirked. "It will get me one day. But not yet."

"Slow progression, is it? You don't look sick."

"I have a good healer."

"That blond blood mage... yes..." Rodrigues nodded. "He's a Grey Warden... does that make a difference? Or did you just buy him because he can stave off your blight?"

"Well, it's true - I do like blonds..."

"Oh Dorian, whom are you trying to fool?" Rodrigues smirked. "He's scruffy... you can do better than that... No, it's his magic and his taint, and together they keep your blight from progressing somehow..." Rodrigues paused, musing. "Some here will try to have you banned because of it... you realise it, of course. But they won't succeed."

"Oh? You seem quite certain."

"We are no fools, my friend... The blight is not transmitted through casual touch, there is no danger to anyone in just talking to you..." Rodrigues looked over his shoulder again, then nudged Dorian deeper into the alcove. "There are some who want to make your blight into the greatest proof of the benefits of blood magic..." He paused, watching Dorian but Dorian remained expressionless. "Your healer will not cure you, that's not it... But there's been a rumour of a new blood magic ritual that can, in fact, cure the blight."

"Oh yes?" Dorian looked up with interest. "Are you sure? It's been tried before..."

"Without success, I know," Rodrigues sighed. "We've had the blight in the family... a nephew of mine, some years back... We tried everything, but of course he died in the end... well... you know how it is."

"I am sorry, I did not know."

"Don't worry. Many more people have had someone in their family infected over the years... Caravans get attacked, people get infected. It happens," Rodrigues sighed. "And the outcome is always the same - death."

"One way or the other..." Dorian nodded.

"But no, this new ritual is different," Rodrigues picked up the thread again. "I don't know the details, they keep it under wraps... Your blight is only in its early stages, which is ideal. Don't be surprised if someone approaches you with a promise of a cure... Don't be surprised but be weary..."

"You don't trust that ritual," Dorian squinted.

"I would not jump on it, myself," Rodrigues lowered his voice. "There are worse things than death..."

"Possession?" Dorian spoke in a near whisper.

"May be... it's like I said - I don't know the details," Rodrigues nodded. "Demonic binding, may be? I mean, how else..? Everything's been tried already... Blood magic, conventional healing, potions, rare herbal infusions... nothing works... And now suddenly they succeed?" He gave Dorian a long look. "I don't like it, Dorian... I don't like it at all."

"Who is promoting it?"

"Just a few junior Magisters... not Gallus, no," Rodrigues shook his head. "It's a different group altogether."

"The Venatori?" Dorian squinted. "Zara's pupils, perhaps?"

"There may be a link, but not an obvious one," Rodrigues sounded uncertain. "Apart from it being a blood magic ritual... which is too generic, of course... No... They keep the identity of their leader well hidden..."

"Oh come on, Rodrigues, there aren't that many mages of such magnitude around," Dorian smirked. "Mages that could pull it off. There's just a handful in the entirety of Thedas, in fact."

"True," Rodrigues nodded. "But none of them appeared in Minrathous yet. So we don't know."

"I see... Well, thank you for the warning," Dorian smiled. "I know we've had our disagreements..."

"But this is bigger than that," Rodrigues brushed it aside. "I may not agree with everything you say, but I don't want you dead... or worse..."

"If you hear anything..."

"I'll tell you," Rodrigues nodded. "You made a splash at The Gay Vint last night. Your blondie does polish up well," he grinned. "Only we all know what he is."

"So the lover card didn't convince anyone then?" Dorian sighed.

"No... yes... it depends," Rodrigues smiled. "Is it true? It looked genuine..."

"It's..."

"Private, I know. Whether it's true or not. I get it." Rodrigues paused, watching Dorian's face. "It's another reminder to all other Houses that Dorian Pavus is not looking to get married any time soon. Don't waste your breath," Rodrigues laughed. "So, who will inherit your family fortune when the blight finally gets you?"

"I am not dead yet," Dorian frowned.

"Never mind. Just teasing." Rodrigues smiled and patted Dorian on the arm. "See you around, Dorian. Come to The Gay Vint, bring your blondie. If there's news, you'll hear it there."

...

"Magister Pavus is not in residence," the butler at the Pavus Manor barred the way to the Captain of the City Guard. "You may leave your grievance with me."

"It's more than just a grievance..." The Captain shuffled her feet. "We've arrested his slave... a Grey Warden... Anders... He does belong to your House, that's right, isn't it?"

"He is a slave of House Pavus, yes," the butler confirmed coolly.

"Well... only this time it wasn't just a brawl..." The Captain looked the butler in the eye. "He blew up the Chantry."

"Oh?" The butler frowned. "Yes, I suppose I did hear some explosions... I shall relate this matter to Magister Pavus. He will want to collect his slave alive, with his skin still on. Do I make myself clear?" The butler glared at the Captain. "Other than that..." he shrugged.

"No one will touch him anyway," the Captain wasn't done yet. "He's a blood mage... he's tainted... everyone is afraid to catch the blight in case he casts a blood magic spell on them... It's been a nightmare to get him detained..."

"The blight is not transmitted in that fashion, and Grey Warden taint is not the blight," the butler said coldly. "Your claim for damages will not stand."

"But Magister Pavus contracted it," the Captain dared to look up. "We shall argue he contracted it through sex because everyone can see they are... well... isn't it why he bought him? The first time around as well as the second?"

"What are you claiming?" The butler turned to ice.

"Introducing the blight into the City Guard."

"It won't stand."

"But we can try."

"How much?"

"Well... House Pavus is wealthy," the Captain smiled. "And Magister Pavus is yet to secure succession through matrimony..."

"Out!" The butler gently pushed the Captain of the Guard off the premises and shut the door in her face.

"Ha! The look on his face!" She laughed. "It was worth it. And I win the bet."

...

"And here comes the man of the hour!" Cheers and whistles ran through the crowd at The Gay Vint when Dorian and Anders appeared there the following evening. "Blow up the Chantry! What fun!"

"Glad you enjoyed the show!" Dorian looked around.

"Very clever pretending to blow up the part that'd caved in already," Damien joined them. "Very clever indeed! Some fresh soil, a few small fires, lots of noise... Burning The Book was a nice touch, I thought!" He beamed at them.

"No one was fooled then," Anders looked at Dorian.

"Oh, I didn't expect them to be fooled," Dorian smiled. "But it is still all over the papers, which was the point. Anders once again blew up a Chantry."

"You are playing with real fire there, old boy," Damien leaned over to Dorian, speaking in a low voice. "If you are baiting whom I think you're baiting... that's one dangerous game."

"I have my reasons."

"Yes, I can see it," Damien nodded. "Oh, it doesn't show yet, of course... does it hurt much? At such an early stage, I mean?"

"It does, Damien, it does..." Dorian looked at him sideways. "It's a slow progression but..."

"The result is always the same," Damien sighed. "I just hope your Warden is as good a healer as his reputation would have us believe. But even he cannot cure it..."

"Which is why we are baiting whom we are baiting," Dorian said through his teeth.

"You think she can help you?" Damien's eyes lit up. "I've heard of the new ritual, of course... but does it work? Or is it just an empty promise with a whole different purpose? Your Warden should remember what happened in Orlais..."

"I was there myself, I know," Dorian nodded. "Demonic binding... But Warden-Commander Clarel was being manipulated through her taint exactly because she'd been a Grey Warden for a long time already... the taint was strong in her, it was established... and she was a Grey Warden while I am just... blighted..." he sighed. "I cannot be manipulated in the same way."

"May be... I don't know... I'm just saying - be careful." Damien looked over his shoulder and moved closer. "Fiona is not to be trifled with."

Second Seed, 3E411 - Ten years in the making

The weeks that followed were quiet. Dorian kept going to the Magisterium and soon everyone got used to his presence and the usual discussions of slavery and other political issues resumed. No one mentioned Dorian's blight, no one made any attempts to curtail his freedoms or oust him from the Assembly because of it. Neve was present regularly but briefly, always dressed in the same attire, and Dorian reflected that she did not have the means to purchase more than one suitable outfit. He almost pitied her... almost. Anders kept a low profile, strolling through town sometimes, but mostly spending his days at the manor, engrossed in the many books in Dorian's library. His appearances at Dorian's side at The Gay Vint were enough to demonstrate that he was still around, that nothing changed... The newspapers were still running stories on the explosion at the Chantry, speculating about its meaning, about the identity of the perpetrator... They quickly linked up Anders to the events in Kirkwall and were now milking that old story as well as the new one. In a word, things were going according to plan.

"Not going to the Magisterium today?" Anders looked surprised when Dorian appeared at breakfast dressed casually.

"No... I've had enough of it for now..." Dorian rolled his eyes. "Always the same talk..."

"Taking a day off then," Anders grinned. "Any plans?"

"Nothing in particular..." Dorian shot a glance at the butler and he quietly left the room. "Why?"

"Spend the day with me? Please? I miss you."

"But I am here... never left..." Dorian squinted. "Every night..."

"Nights..."

"...are not the same as days, I know," Dorian nodded. "I..."

"I love you," Anders interrupted him. "Have done for ten years, without knowing it myself... I make a mess of these things... I made a mess with Lucanis too..."

"I can't get enough of you during the night," Dorian moved his chair closer and touched Anders' face. "In all this time I never allowed myself to think of you in that way... I was foolish, I put up a wall... But..."

"You need exclusivity, I know," Anders nodded. "To go beyond the nights."

"Yes."

"Which is why..." Anders sighed. "And we cannot go back to the way we were when we were just friends. I cannot say it was better... but I miss the days."

"You'll have to make a choice when you are ready," Dorian spoke softly. "Without making a mess."

"I never thought of choosing... I never thought I had anything to choose... I never..." Anders shook his head. "Will you have me?"

Dorian smiled but did not immediately reply.

"Lucanis did not accept my offer of exclusivity..." Anders continued. "He said he could not promise the same and anyhow he thought you'd want me back... I was so surprised... We'd never been... you and I... what did he mean - you'd want me back..?" He looked at Dorian in confusion.

"Lucanis has a better feel for these things than most," Dorian nodded. "He told me the same about you... made me realise what a fool I'd been... shutting you out... even after you... that night, when you wanted to change your mind... I was the one man you actually liked to see naked, you said..." He smirked. "And again, even after we... I still understood nothing." He paused, watching Anders' face. "Understood nothing of what I felt for you..."

"Then I know what to do," Anders got up. "I am going to Treviso. I'll be back as soon as I can... I hope I won't make too much of a mess..." He sighed.

...

The portal between Minrathous and Treviso was still in operation. Anders emerged on the other side without incident and went to the Crows office looking for Lucanis. He wasn't there but a message would be sent.

"Go to his apartment," Viago told him. "You'll want privacy, no doubt... Oh, nothing unexpected... but he'll want to tell you that himself."

Anders did not have to wait long.

"Any news?" He looked at Lucanis and saw worry in his face.

"Yes, no, nothing unexpected and nothing from Fiona, yet," Lucanis said uneasily, focusing on making coffee. "She has not been here and no one seems to be running the underwater prison," he specified, wishing to get it out of the way. "So I didn't send word because there was nothing to say."

He poured out the coffee and handed Anders a cup, then continued.

"Illario is still scrubbing the floor of that pool... Caterina is not letting him out of sight. She is still in charge, too... but she is an old lady," he sighed, looking up. "I shall have to return here once we are done with the Blight... I shall have to take over running the Crows."

"She could not find a cousin worthy of the job," Anders nodded. "I always thought it was a tall order."

"My parents, Illario's parents, a few others... all died in that attempted coup, yet Caterina persevered. To give it away now... that's too much to ask of her, I feel..."

"When..?"

"Oh, there is no immediate rush," Lucanis smiled. "I stand with you against the Blight as promised. I stay with you for as long as you want as well... but you will have to come to Treviso."

"And I cannot promise that..." Anders nodded. "It's not that I would not have wanted..." He started saying but Lucanis interrupted.

"Go with Dorian," he said. "You've always wanted that."

"How do you..?" Anders felt his breath cut.

"I only have to look at the two of you... Old friends, yes... But there's more... He does not have to be your Mathilda."

"And you..?"

"I stay here. My Mathilda is always with me," he pointed at his head. "I talked to her, by the way - to the real Mathilda. She is not the same woman."

"I am sorry..." Anders felt terrible.

"Don't be," Lucanis smiled. "We've had such a wild and wonderful time... I'll never forget that. And of course, we remain friends." He got up and walked over to a small ornate cabinet, then retrieved something from it. "Take this - a talking gem. You know how this works? You talk to it and I'll answer - I've got the other one, it's a pair. Antivan Crows are never too far away."

"But this isn't goodbye, I'll see you again, won't I?"

"Of course, I'll be there for the Grande Finale, of course! And before, too, and after - whenever you need me," Lucanis smiled. "Whenever you want to talk or... but no, not that. Like Dorian, you value exclusivity."

"Yes..."

"Yes."

They remained silent for a while, continuing a wordless conversation. Then Anders got up.

"I should be going," he said, carefully putting away the talking gem. "Fiona might make a move any time... Dorian says things started stirring at the Magisterium."

"Let me know as soon as it starts," Lucanis sounded serious, getting up too. "She is not to be trifled with."

He took a step towards Anders and embraced him.

"Do I get another kiss? The last one, I promise..."

...

Anders returned to Minrathous in the dead of night. He walked through the eerily empty streets unchallenged. The night doorman at the Pavus Manor silently let him in. Dorian would be asleep, he thought, best not make any noise. He entered the master bedroom and quietly closed the door. Dorian was in bed, apparently sleeping. Anders took off his outer garments and boots and tiptoed around the room removing his weapons belt, his potions belt, and transferring Lucanis' talking gem from a side pouch into his Warden's Oath locket that he never took off...

"He gave you a talking gem," he heard Dorian's voice. "So you didn't make a mess."

"I... yes, I guess I managed," Anders spun around, seeing Dorian sit up. "I thought you were asleep!"

"I was... nah... whom am I kidding? No, I wasn't," Dorian smirked. "I gave a talking gem to someone once... we used it quite a lot, too... it's a great little item."

"Used it? But not anymore..?" Anders asked without thinking and regretted it - it was none of his business. "Oh... never mind... I don't mean to pry..."

"It's alright, I'll tell you: I gave it to Wolf."

"Ah."

"It doesn't work across the ocean," Dorian sighed.

"No... I guess not..."

"I've got something for you as well," Dorian got up, a little box in his hand. "If you want it."

He opened the box - a golden earring inlaid with rubies was in it.

"It's the same design as your ring," Anders touched Dorian's hand holding the box, a ring inlaid with rubies on his finger.

"I had them made while you were gone," Dorian said softly. "I thought you'd prefer an earring... I remember you saying you had one before but it was lost..."

"Well, darkspawn are not getting this one!" Anders exclaimed with a laugh, putting the earring through his earlobe. "There..."

...

"This will be the talk of the town to rival blowing up of the Chantry!" Damien applauded seeing Dorian and Anders enter The Gay Vint. "Finally!"

"How did he..? It's just a ring and an earring!" Anders was gobsmacked.

"No, he doesn't have the eyes of a hawk, and neither is he psychic," Dorian smirked. "The jeweler told him, no doubt." Then, turning to Damien, he laughed: "Finally what, old boy? People like us do not exist in Tevinter..."

"Yes, and this isn't The Gay Vint," Damien laughed. "I was right, I was right from the start!"

"We'll hear no end of that now!" Anders rolled his eyes.

"All you had to do was admit right from the start that it wasn't just..." But Damien's words were drowned in laughs and cheers from the crowd around them as the rubies sparkled in candle light of the most flamboyant bar in town.

Second Seed, 3E411 - Darkspawn

"We have to go," Anders woke up in the middle of the night. "They are moving fast!" He jumped out of bed.

"Who..? Huh?" Dorian woke up too. "What..? Oh..."

"Darkspawn, yes," Anders' face was set in resolve as he was quickly getting dressed. "Prepare for battle." Then, touching his Warden's Oath locket, he hesitated. "Hmm... I should have tested this... let's hope it works. Lucanis? Can you hear me?"

"Huh..?" A sleepy voice answered. "Anders? What...? Oh... another nightmare?"

"More than just a nightmare," Anders was fully awake and spoke with urgency. "There's a massive horde of darkspawn underneath Minrathous. Massive. They will overwhelm the city. We're going there... there aren't many Grey Wardens here, may be even none. Can you come?"

"Of course!" The voice coming from the talking gem was no longer sleepy. "I'll bring a few friends, too... Where is it?"

"Don't know yet," Anders sighed. "Probably in the catacombs... Do you remember, it's where we..."

"Fought that Arcane Horror, or whatever you call those demons," Lucanis sounded like himself now. "Yes. We'll go there. Call if it changes."

"Spite will know, too... Spite will sense them if... if he still looks like me..." Anders said with doubt.

"He does. Don't get killed before we arrive."

...

When Anders and Dorian reached the city catacombs, Anders no longer had any doubts that the darkspawn horde would emerge from there. Even Dorian started sensing the darkspawn. The entrance was unguarded and deserted, as usual.

"No Grey Wardens..." Anders looked around. "If there were any of them still in Minrathous, they'd be here... but no..."

"Wasn't everyone recalled to the Head Quarters?" Dorian reminded him.

"Yes... no... someone usually stays behind..."

"Wardens..?" A young woman's voice called from the street. "You are Grey Wardens, aren't you?" She ran up to them, panting.

"I am," Anders turned around. "And you... is anyone else coming?"

"There's no one here... there are no Grey Wardens in Tevinter... didn't you know?" She looked uncertain. "Oh, you are... I've heard of you..."

"The horde is below us," Anders cut short the introductions. "Can you sense them? You look... hmm..."

"I haven't gone through the Joining yet..." The young woman looked down. "I only ran after you because I saw you... I cannot sense anything..."

"Then this will be terrifying," Anders gently squeezed her arm. "Stay with us, don't run ahead. Don't engage large darkspawn, but instead cut down anything that comes close. Keep us safe... focus on that. Dorian and I will do the rest."

"Dorian... Magister Dorian Pavus?" The woman gasped. "So I was right..."

"Yes, we are who you think we are, but there's no time for it now," Anders tried to calm her. "We'll find a choke point and make our stand there. Try not to die."

They stepped into the darkness of the catacombs, trying to predict where the darkspawn horde would come to the surface. Oil torches were visible here and there, but they did not illuminate very much.

"There's a fork in the tunnel here somewhere, if memory serves..." Anders was shining his lamp into the tunnel. "But which way from there..?"

"Left," Dorian seemed sure. "There's a lift there, going into the depths. It's much faster than going around..."

"Left then."

They took the lift down, and faced another fork in the tunnels.

"Lucanis will not be able to find us if we go too far," Dorian was looking into the tunnels. "This way goes to that chamber where..."

"It had tunnels coming off it," Anders nodded.

"There are people there!" The woman exclaimed.

"People?"

"People like me..." she said in a fallen voice. "Vagabonds..."

"They'll be slaughtered," Anders sounded grim. "We have to warn them..."

"Well, why don't you go and warn them," Dorian turned to the young woman. "Tell them to leave with all haste. And in the meantime Anders and I will go in the opposite direction."

"Err..." She started to object, then changed her mind. "I will..." And she ran off.

"This way," Dorian started walking into the tunnel. "Even I can sense that it's this way."

The tunnel twisted and turned but had no further forks until they came to a small chamber.

"This wall looks weak," Anders noted. "Should we break it and take the fight to them or should we..."

"We wait here," a familiar voice sounded behind them. "I brought some friends."

Lucanis and three other Crows stood in the tunnel, and Anders noticed blood on their armour.

"Resistance? But where?" He asked in surprise.

"We went to the large chamber first, those bandits were waiting for us," Lucanis smirked. "But they had never met the Antivan Crows."

"Oh... so that young woman..."

"Was never going to fight darkspawn with you," Lucanis said darkly. "She just wanted your jewelry."

"Ugh..." Anders turned away.

"I hear something," Dorian interrupted them. "Here they come!"

A low rumble was heard from behind the weak wall, as if other weak walls were crumbling in the depth. Lucanis kicked their wall and it crumbled too, and the Crows disappeared into the darkness with Anders and Dorian following. "Storm," they nodded to each other, starting an incantation.

...

"I shall never get used to fighting darkspawn..!" Viago grimaced turning over a corpse on the ground. "Just look at them! Ugh!"

"Don't look at them," Teia covered her nose. "That stench!"

"Don't let your guard down," Anders said, showering them all in the shimmering mist of healing magic. "This was just the first wave."

"How many waves..?"

"Don't know... more than one... Focus!"

They heard that same low rumble again, more darkspawn was rising from the depths.

...

"How do we know when it's over?" Teia was breathing heavily, clutching a gash in her side. "They are getting tougher..."

"They are," Anders nodded, making her sit down on the ground. "Let me treat this..." He did not speak for a while, focusing on treating the wound. "I'll know... there... almost done... Cover us, Dorian!" He suddenly yelled, bending over Teia, the bandage only half finished. Debris from an explosion fell all around them as another wave of darkspawn started a fresh assault. "You are no use to anyone dead," Anders pushed Teia back to the ground. "Hold still."

...

"How many waves..?" Lucanis was looking at the heaps of darkspawn corpses around them.

"Don't know, didn't count," Anders was busy treating each of them in turn. "But the horde withdrew for now."

"Withdrew? You mean - there's more darkspawn?!" Viago was indignant.

"There's always more darkspawn, Viago," Anders smirked. "All we can do is make them pull back... we can never kill them all."

"Are you sure they won't return the moment we leave here?" Teia was peering into the tunnel, listening for more rumbles but all was quiet in the depths.

"As sure as I can be..." Anders closed his eyes, focusing on the song on the back of his mind. "Yeah, I think it's over for today."

"Then we go home," Dorian put away his staff. "This attack was directed by someone... and I think I know who it was."

"Fiona," Lucanis scowled.

"Very likely. Will you stay in Minrathous for a while?" Dorian looked at each of the Crows in turn. "We serve the best pastel de nata in town..."

...

When Dorian appeared at the Magisterium the next day, he found most Magisters gathered in the Assembly chamber listening to someone on the podium.

"...as you've seen from yesterday's attack!" A young Magister whom he did not know, was saying with pathos. "The Blight has come to Minrathous!"

"But why?" Someone asked. "Why now? Why here? Besides, it wasn't much of a threat if the City Guard managed to push them back..."

"Why? Because the Blight is on the rise!" The young Magister restarted his speech. "As I was saying..!"

"It wasn't the City Guard that pushed them back," someone spoke and the Assembly went quiet. "It was Dorian Pavus and his Warden friend, and may be a few others... nothing to do with the City Guard."

"But the City Guard..." someone objected in a small voice.

"The City Guard are finally watching the catacombs, yes," a Magister in an exquisite robe stepped forward. "For once, the papers tell the truth. Minrathous was not overrun this time only because there was a Grey Warden in this city... a Grey Warden who wasn't too drunk to heed his Warden sense."

An awkward silence lasted for a good minute, no one daring to speak. Dorian stood at the back of an alcove, watching his fellow Magisters shiver. The Blight came to Tevinter and no one knew what to do.

"The bulk of the Blight is still in the Anderfels," the young Magister on the podium suddenly started speaking again. "Minrathous only got a stray horde," he tried to sound confident. "Chances are, we won't have another attack... or not a large attack anyway... but small incursions will now become the norm!" He suddenly raised his voice. "This has been the case in other cities of Thedas! You only have to look around... And so, with more darkspawn attacks, the prevalence of the blight infection in the population will increase! Which is why the ritual we are proposing is becoming more and more important!"

The ritual. This was what Dorian was waiting to hear. He froze, focusing all his attention on the young Magister in the centre of the Assembly.

"Your ritual is based in blood magic... and it requires red lyrium," someone objected. "Both things are forbidden because of the dangers they bring..."

"And yet each and every one of you used blood magic countless times in your lives," the young Magister glared at the Assembly. "I dare you to deny it. You know where the danger lies - and it isn't in blood magic as such." No one spoke and the Magister continued. "It has to be done with care, for certain. Which is why we offer to guide you every step of the way. To guide you in order to avoid mishaps, mistakes and tragedies... You can trust us. We know what we are doing."

"Warden-Commander Clarel trusted a Tevinter Magister to give her an army of demons that would end the Blight once and for all," Dorian stepped forward. "We all know how that went. Warden-Commander was being manipulated, she recovered and corrected her error, at a great cost to the Order of the Grey... But that isn't my point." He looked around, but no one spoke. "My point is about trust. She trusted in something that was too good to be true. We must not make the same mistake."

"He's right, you know..." Another Magister stepped forward, addressing the speaker on the podium. "Why should we trust you? The Blight has been around for a thousand years, everything imaginable has already been tried, yet no cure was ever found. You claim your ritual can safely cure the Blight... it does sound too good to be true."

"I understand your hesitation," the speaker replied calmly. "We understand it. We are not forcing anyone into anything, mind... but when the Blight infects someone you love, we shall be there to help, if you want us. Perhaps you'll see things differently then." He looked at the members of the Assembly, stopping at Dorian. "Magister Pavus... remember - we wish to help." He smiled and stepped off the podium.

...

"Did he think I would just run after him?!" Dorian was telling about it at dinner. "A ritual involving red lyrium... no, thanks. I'd rather..." He shot a glance at Anders and shook his head.

"Not everyone wishes to join Grey Wardens," Lucanis said softly. "They are counting on that, no doubt. But what now? Are we to expect more darkspawn attacks here or is Fiona going to move on the Anderfels?"

"I am more interested in the true nature of that ritual," Anders mused. "It sounds very much like they are trying to build a following... an army perhaps... or a pool of slaves..."

"Depending on what the ritual does, yes," Dorian nodded. "But how can we find out? Fiona is very careful."

"But she isn't here," Anders pointed out. "So far, it's just her pupils... and are they as careful as she? And what about Neve? Perhaps now she could be useful..."

They spent some time discussing the matter. Various theories and suggestions were brought forward but they kept going in circles around that one central question about the nature of the ritual. Without knowing that, they could not devise a course of action, yet a course of action was needed in order to figure it out. Finally they gave up as the hour was late and everyone was still tired after the big battle the day before. They said good night and retired to their respective bedrooms.

...

Teia woke up because she heard someone breathing. Humans were always forgetting that elves possessed not only superior life spans, but also superior senses. Teia looked young but was older than most Crows, and her life of an assassin taught her to never drop her guard.

She woke up and tightened her grip on the dagger under her pillow but did not move. She opened her eyes just enough to see through the eyelashes. A shadow was hovering by the door to her bedroom, and the door stood ajar. Teia held her breath and listened but could not hear anyone else - the intruder appeared to be alone. She tensed, like a coiled spring.

Yet in the minutes that followed, there was no attack. The intruder silently walked out of her bedroom and tried the next door. It looked like he was searching for the right person, or may be deciding which of them was to become his victim. Teia saw a man's silhouette fading into the darkness - he was crouching by the door, working on the lock... She leapt, slitting his throat.

A lightning bolt shot through the air, knocking Teia to the ground, and she fell, making a lot of noise, pulling the dead intruder down with her. In a blink of an eye the other Crows were on their feet and a noisy battle ensued, with much too many fighters in one narrow corridor.

"Call Anders - now!" Lucanis shook Teia awake and pushed her towards the exit, past the fighting.

The master bedroom was in the opposite wing of the manor, but the noise carried through the sleeping building, and Dorian's bodyguards were already on full alert.

"I don't understand it," Teia was shaking her head as she, Anders and Dorian were running back to the other wing, with the bodyguards following. "There was no one there! But there are several of them fighting now!"

"Who are they? Mages? Darkspawn? Demons?" Dorian finally gave up trying to get his arm into the sleeve of his chamber gown and tossed it aside, it was not the time to stand on ceremony.

"Err..." Teia didn't know.

"Demons!!!" A Rage Demon blocked their way.

"Leave it to me!" Dorian shot an ice spear at it. "Get the mage!!!"

The corridors of the guest wing of the Pavus Manor were ablaze with magical explosions. Fissures in the Veil were visible even to the naked eye, with demons lined up on the other side. This attack was well prepared. Anders left the demons to the Crows - he had to find the mage who was holding the Veil tear open, but it was nearly impossible to even see who was who in the chaos of the battle. He stopped and closed his eyes. "Any mage who is capable of making a tear in the Veil, will be emanating magic," Anders told himself recalling the way things looked in the Fade. "Emmrich would be able to see him... see the glow... I am no Emmrich... but may be..." He focused his senses... a streak of purple flashed past... he grabbed it... it jerked and pulled and the next moment all noises ceased and Anders stood in the Fade. "Oh!" He heard a surprised gasp. Here was the mage holding the tear in the Veil open.

They fought. The mage was skilled, mirroring whatever spell Anders threw at him, while also maintaining the tear, pushing more and more demons into Mundus. But may be he grew tired or may be he thought it was enough, he dropped his staff and the tear collapsed. Anders knocked him down, holding his dagger at the man's throat.

"Will you kill an unarmed man?" The mage smirked.

"Yes, I will." Anders put his knee on the man's chest. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Oh, you'll see," the mage smiled. "But if you kill me now, you'll be trapped in the Fade forever more. The tear in the Veil is closed and only I can reopen it again. This isn't a dream, we are physically in the Fade... you cannot wake up from this."

"What do you want?"

"To live," the mage smiled again. Yet something about him rang false to Anders.

"I do not believe you," he said, slitting the man's throat. Dark, nearly black blood spilled out of the wound. "Darkspawn," Anders got up. "You were darkspawn. Did I sense you?" Anders wondered aloud, looking over the corpse. "Yes, I did... I am no Emmrich, I cannot sense tears in the Veil... but I can sense darkspawn, talking or not... Well, that's one mystery cleared up." He straightened up, looking around. "Now, how do I get out of the Fade?"

Ah, a house for purchase in Dune. Wonder how many houses she's got at this point?

The fighting in the Posh District IS weird. Sounds like a case of friendly fire (at some legitimate enemy, perhaps) becoming not so friendly. Then taken seriously.



That's my favorite line in the chapter I'm reading tonight.

SKOOMA PIPE! "Lena turned to her skooma pipe...."


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