Hello dear readers! ^_^ I'd like to take this time to thank you for stopping by and joining me on my journey! I don't own Dragon Age, if I did...well, silly things would happen.

Chapter inspired by: Florence & The Machine – Drumming

Thanks for reading! Enjoy :)


Dear Diary….hmm….no, that seems cliché...

Dear readers? No, that won't work; especially since I learned in English class you should know who your audience is before you write to them, and honestly I'm not sure who is going to read this.

How about, "to whom it may concern"? No, sounds like I'm writing my college submission essay.

HEY YOU?

Wow. I suck at this, I apologize. Now that I think about it, I'm not entirely sure why I'm writing? Ah yes, now I remember! I was forced! Yes, that's right! Forced! Alistair shoved a quill in my hand and said, "Emily if you do not write something, I will have Rylo rip you into tiny pieces and feed you to the darkspawn!" and then he laughed manically….okay, so I'm a liar. That really didn't happen…but really though, I didn't want to do this, because it's a stupid idea. Alistair told me it would "help with me anger issues". WHAT anger issues? I'll have you know my therapist says I'm doing VERY well!

I bet you're wondering right now, "Why am I reading what this crazy girl has to say, she seems nuts and her penmanship is absolutely terrible!" Well I will agree my hand writing is extremely loopy and girly, but it's not THAT bad. I blame it on my first grade teacher; she tried to get me to use those stupid rubber things to write properly…come on, you know what I'm talking about right? They make your fingers bend in weird ways and lure you with squishyness and bright colors. You know what? I'm on to you. I. Am. On. To. You. I never used them, so that's one problem solved!

Anyway, let's be frank shall we? You're only reading this for one reason and one reason only, because I'm absolutely awesome and my sense of humor makes you smile. Maybe, just maybe…..you're bored.

This all started with my dreams. Not the dreams with chocolate and marshmallows, oh no sir! There was definitely no chocolate and no marshmallows. Maybe there was cake? I heard it was a lie though, so I don't think so.


"Emily…."

My eyes began to flutter, and briefly I felt like I had a mild hangover, you know that stiff feeling the morning after your spent the night on the bathroom floor? Yeah, just like that. Except there was no fluffy rug underneath me, and I smelled….something….foul. That's a terrible description isn't it? Well I'd like to see YOU do better, huh? Actually, no I wouldn't, because you're probably a better writer/story teller.

Opening my eyes and sitting up slowly, I studied my surroundings. My eyes had to adjust to the dim light, but I couldn't focus, like something was weighing heavy on my vision.

Usually my dreams start out with a steamy make out session with Alistair, or I won the lottery and I'm planning my world travels. Or they have cake. Cake is good.

I dusted myself off and leaned slowly on the wall for balance. Seeing much more clearly, I realized this was a cave or some underground secret society and I was late to the meeting. I wonder if they have cake. There was dirt, rocks, and I was enclosed, so let's stick with cave. Let's get one thing straight; I don't have weird dreams about this stuff often, once in awhile there are butterflies and cute things…like flowers and balloons….and cake (damn you cake).

Grumbling to myself, I adventure to explore the cave further. The air is dense and I'm surrounded by silence except the crumbling underneath my feet. What was crumbling underneath my feet you wonder? Well good sir, I'm sure it's the usual, dirt, rocks and bones.

"My Queen", a distant hiss echoes throughout the cave. Lights started to flicker further down the tunnels.

Mmmm, this is definitely NOT in my usual dreams. My Queen? Well sure buddy, do you have a castle and horses? I'll gladly jump on that bandwagon!

"Come to me…" another hiss. The sound was louder this time, echoing in my head. Was it following me? Was I following it? Did it have cake?

"Hello?" I call out. No reply. Rude. I should have learned from every horror movie I've ever watched, whatever is making noises is not going to reply with, "yeah, over here! Want a sandwich?"

"Follow" the hiss replied. Umm, can I take a rain check on that creepy hissing voice?

The caves path was pretty simple. Go straight. Nothing like mixing it up, eh? I began to hear humming as I drew closer to the source of the hissing. I think my mind was playing tricks on me! Why do I have to work so hard in my dreams? This isn't fun!

I felt like I had walked for hours, and I hadn't heard a hiss or any noise for that matter in quite some time. The only company I had was my dancing shadow, and I was a little angry it wouldn't reply to my hypothetical questions.

Before I knew it, I was flat on my back moaning in pain with the breath from my lungs sucked right out of me. I felt like I was sucker punched in the gut. The shadows on the wall faded, and there was darkness.

"It is time"


"Commander, are you awake?" the voice called from beyond the tent, "If we should like to make it to Highever soon we best be on our way".

Duncan was awake. He'd been awake for hours, thinking, always thinking. He had the same dream again and he couldn't figure out what it meant. For months it had been the same thing, a girl and a voice. That voice, he had heard it so many times in the past few months, but was still no closer to figuring out what it meant or what he was suppose to do with this information. When he thought he was close to getting answers, he would wake drenched in sweat and shaking terribly.

"Commander?" the voice called out again after no reply.

"Yes boy, I am awake and ready. We need to make a stop first, into the Wilds" Duncan swung his bag over his shoulder and exited the tent. Going into the Wilds wasn't the brightest idea he had ever had, but what choice did he have? If anyone could tell him what his dreams meant, The Witch of The Wilds could. He needed answers and he needed them quickly.


6 months later

"Emily? Dinners ready" Alistair said, poking his head into my tent.

"Just one more minute" I replied, mumbling, not looking up from my journal.

"Emily, you've been scribbling and cursing under your breath for over an hour, take a break. I don't think the Maker appreciates you yelling at him" Alistair folded his arms and cocked an eyebrow.

"You said you wanted me to write!" looking up from my journal, wide eyed and innocently.

"She's still yelling, I told you this plan would not work! Fools" Morrigan yelled across camp.

"Did I ever tell you how much I dislike her?" I asked.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love the fact you decided she should come along?" Alistair asked smiling.

Touché my handsome friend, touché.

Tucking my journal under my blanket I stepped outside my tent and stretched my arms, taking my seat next to Lelianna.

"Do you feel better?" Lelianna asked sweetly, nudging my shoulder.

"I will if you tell me Alistair didn't make dinner" I smiled.

"Hey! I've been trying!" Alistair protested.

"Well you should try harder" Morrigan said sarcastically crossing over to the fire. Oh Morrigan, sometimes I wonder why you speak at all.

Mumbling, Alistair filled our bowls with watery looking stew and handed us each our share.

After a few weeks, I gave up trying to guess what was in the mystery concoction. I stopped sniffing it too, it tastes better then it smells, I swear.


A/N: I've literally been working on this story for months, first time it got deleted but then I was able to salvage some rough draft copies and this is what I'm working with.