"The Arch Demon!" I shoot up, clawing at air in front of me. Where's my sword, my axe, anything!
"Aed?" That name cuts through my panic. Aed that's my name, short for Aedan Cousland, the disposed son of the Cousland Family, Teryns of Highever. But I feel different, and this world isn't Thedas. What in the Maker's name is going on! Then it starts to come back to me. How I woke up one morning in Thedas, with the name Aedan Cousland. Two years, hunting the Arch Demon, killing darkspawn. And I'm back. I almost thought this was a dream. Was Thedas a dream? Someone steps into my line of vision, my…dad? "Aed can you hear me?" I nod slowly, finally taking in my surroundings. Leliana and Zevran would kill me for being so unaware. But they're not here.
Beeping and light flashes surrounded me, the world seemed almost muted. I was in a hospital bed. My body, a solid piece of iron in Thedas, was soft, flabby. I almost snarl at my hands, they would bleed if I even picked up a sword, never mind tried to wield one.
"Aed?" My head shoots up and my dad staggers back. What?
"Yes…dad?" he breathes easier, so does the woman in the corner, I think that's my mom.
"You've been unconscious son, you were in an accident." An accident? All I remember before Thedas, the Blight, was a blinding light, then I woke up in Highever. As I struggle to think, my head starts to pound. I try to shake it off, after Thedas a little head ache should be nothing, but it hurts too much to focus. Vaguely I'm aware of someone shouting for a doctor, gods above what is going on? Next thing I know blackness comes again and I welcome it like an old friend.
When I come too again I expect to be sleeping in a tent, the fire crackling outside. But sadly this isn't the case. First thing I notice is the too soft bed underneath me, then the lack of strength in my limbs. During the Blight I could give Sten a run for his gold, and now I'm so weak, just normal, just Aeden Monroe. Damn. I sit up, it was the middle of night, no one was here. My arm was in a cast, I could feel wraps tied around my waist. I strain my senses to the max, growling at the lack of sound or sight. One of my legs is supported in the air by a sling, a bandage was wrapped around my head and covering one of my eyes, well at least that's still the same. When I was Aedan Cousland, a dragon swiped at my face, slicing my eye. I didn't even notice half of my sight was gone till I actually touched the bandages. I didn't have a beard, just a thick five o'clock shadow, and my hair wasn't cut short, it was rather long. Tcht what was I thinking, not cutting my hair? Then again, Aed Monroe wasn't a warrior, he was just a teenager. Two years, two years I was there. I know I was.
"You're awake!" What! I spin and see a nurse standing in the doorway of my room. Damn it I didn't hear her! What if it had been someone…no. This is not Thedas, I'm not a Grey Warden.
"Yes, sorry. Um ma'am what time is it?" Almost said milady, as mixed up as I am, I don't need people knowing it. If anyone found out about Thedas, they would think I had lost my mind.
"It's four in the morning." Hmm.
"Do you know how long I've been in here?" The nurse checks a chart, her eyes darting across the page.
"It seems you been here for 25 days, so almost a month." 25 days, hmm, well it makes sense, I woke up yesterday and for every day that passed here, I spent a month in Thedas. Interesting. I nod slightly, giving the nurse my thanks. After she left I leaned back, trying to relax. But my mind was awake; I wouldn't be getting any sleep any time soon. I tried to rectify my experiences. After so long in Thedas, I'm having trouble remembering my old life. It's like I always was Aedan Cousland. But I know I wasn't. When I first appeared, I was Aed Monroe, being Aedan Cousland was strange. Oh god what happened there? Did I kill it? Is Alistar alive? Where are Leliana and Zevran?
I shake my head. They're not real…not anymore. Right now I just need to adapt, try and force myself back into this world. What did Leliana and Zevran always drill into my head, a rogue must learn to adapt and survive. So forget Thedas, focus on this world. Once I understand it, I can worry about what happened. I was thinking of how I can discreetly study the world around me when I caught sight of my hand. I look close, there's the scar from when a Hurlok's sword snuck past my guard, but how? Its aged right, and I didn't have it before I got to Thedas, so how is it here? It was so bad, Wynne said I almost lost my hand. So it is real. There's proof. But my body is still too soft, too weak, I'll need to train. I doubt I could even best Oghren when's he's passed out in a drunken stupor.
The night passes slowly, and in the morning my family comes. A mother, father and sister. All of whom are anxious. Apparently when they said I had been in an accident, that meant I had ran into the street to push someone out of the way of a speeding car. The car hit its brakes but I took a full impact. How I wasn't dead was a miracle, the fact I've healed as well as I have and that I'm even awake, even more so. If only Wynne was around, this would be over already.
I spend another week in the hospital, going through some physical therapy, and being observed. Ugh I'm so damn weak, it's infuriating. It also doesn't help that I apparently have a radically different personality. I'm paranoid, grim, grouchy and too serious. Whatever, I had to grow strong. I didn't defeat the dark spawn horde with kindness, but I never actually said that. I didn't need a psychologist on top of everything else. I was struggling to walk on crutches, whispering all the different ways Sten would mock me for my weakness, when I realized, I'm really not Aedan Cousland. There's no Blight, it's all just a…game. My parents had brought me my Xbox and my favorite games. And sitting there was Dragonage Origins. It was a damn game.
It takes me over two months to heal. I was kept out of school since my injuries were severe, and now it was summer. In the hospital, desperate for something to keep from losing my mind, I had my parents bring me the work I was missing. It was a gift from the Maker, or god, Jesus, whoever. The work kept my mind busy and gave me something to focus on while my body healed. Also it kept me from thinking about everything I had lost by returning to this world. Its funny, after fighting in the Blight, this is actually enjoyable. I had to study maps, learn about cultures, spent large amounts of times in reading treaties and practicing diplomacy as a Grey Warden. I had to walk on eggshells, court nobles, and learn enough to get people to agree with me. Simply studying the history of places was much easier. Math was a tad annoying, science even more so, but nothing too serious. My family was surprised by my zeal; I look it as I need something to keep me occupied.
When I returned home, my energy increased even more so. I had finished the school work, so now I tore apart the library in my room. I found history books, military books, fighting manuals and a large amount of fantasy fiction. The manuals explain my unconventional fighting style and preferences. While healing, I read each of them over and over. There was one of swordsmanship, dagger/knife fighting, axe skills, pole arms, even shield combat. The military books were interesting, I wish I had had them when I was a commander, it would have made the siege of Denerum easier.
When I was finally pronounced well enough to go out, a large group of teenagers, all dressed as if they stepped out of Thedas, appeared outside my house. I met them outside, still paranoid of an enemy attack. I found a large flip knife, and kept that in my boot, confident I can get to it in a moment's notice. The group stared at me, shocked, until one detached himself from the others. He was tall, not the Sten but not short, with blond hair tied back, in a black shirt and breeches.
"Aed! You're alive!" The kid was like Alistar, all boyish charm, and bigger than me. He scooped me up in a fierce hug. I swear I felt a rib creak.
"Let me go." I barely manage to squeeze out.
"Dear, you'll put him right back in the hospital." He jumps back, embarrassed as I get breath back into my lungs. I look behind him to see a shorter girl, in a flowing dress, tribal symbols painted around her face. "How you feeling Aed?" I shrug, staring at the others. Besides the period clothes, they're armed for the most part.
"I'd feel better if I knew why you all were armed, and if I'm gonna need to defend myself." Everyone is caught by surprise by that. I know these people, they're my…friends. Yet so many blades put me on edge. The blond takes over.
"Well buddy we're all going to the ren fair, you know we all get geared up for that. Since you're awake you want to come with us?" Ren fair? What? But they're all nodding to me, so I sort of nod and the giant kid gives me another big hug before rushing to his car. He comes back with an arm load of clothes and starts pulling me into the house. They shove me into 'my' room, leaving me alone with the clothes. I shook my head as I changed slowly, wincing at the stiffness in my muscles. In the end I'm wearing a loose cotton shirt, cotton breeches, and tall boots that fit better than my old ones. Though my new baby soft feet will probably be blistered after walking in them. I still had a bandage wrapped around me eye, but I was used to having the eye covered, it didn't hinder me. When I got in the accident, glass cut across my face, the doctors aren't sure if my eye can be saved. They set up meetings with a specialist, I don't really care, I function just fine with one eye. I looked at myself in the mirror.
I looked slightly like my other self, my hair was too long, and I was too thin, but still it was an improvement. I missed my armor, the burnished dragonbone was almost indestructible, but it's gone. Shaking my head, trying to rid myself of such depressing thoughts, I went to the spot in my room where I kept my weapons. They weren't good quality, what possessed me to buy them is beyond me. I grabbed the hand axe first, the steel was sharp, the handle was strong and it was held together nicely. In addition I grabbed a long slightly curved dagger, as well as a large fighting knife. It seems silly to be armed, gladiatorial combat has been outlawed, and I doubt we're going anywhere where our lives will be in danger, but I go along with it. Shaking my head, I walked outside only to jump back as one of my so called friends tried to attack me. My axe appears in my hand, muscles, dulled slightly from injury and lack of training, ready to spring, yet I pause. They're all laughing, this was a joke. The laughter stops at the sight of my drawn weapon.
"Uh Aed, uh you ok bro?" asked the big kid…Alex, that's his name. I resist the urge to growl; at least my instincts are somewhat sharp. And my reflexes haven't totally abandoned me. Everyone's staring at my drawn axe, fuck. I slip the blade into my belt and shrug.
"Sorry…got spooked." The girl who tried to attack me, scrambled up and grabbed me in a bear hug.
"You're looking good!" I wince as more pressure is put on my injured ribs.
"Can't breath."
"Hehe, right sorry." She lets go and backs up. This group is not the whole gang I think. It's Alex, his girl Liz, Jack, his girl Amy (the one who attacked me), and Ethan and his girl Maggie. Great, all couples. I shake my head, debating going back to my room. I don't want to be around people. I was ripped away from those I loved, I don't even know if I won or failed. Did I succeed? I had slammed the sword home in the dragon's head, but was that enough, did Alistar finish the job? Did Fereldan burn, my companions, my friends…my loves, are they all dead, buried under the bodies of darkspawn?
I refused to pick up the game, somehow it just seems…wrong. To know that everything I've experienced in the past two years has been reduced to a…a game. I got so lost in my own head I don't even notice as I'm dragged away. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts as I'm pushed and pulled outside. I wave goodbye to my parents, who watch with amusement. The ride in the car is slightly disconcerting, I'm still not used to these things. But when we get there it's like a punch to the gut. Apparently ren fair was short for renascence fair. Meaning everyone dresses like they were in Thedas. I'm dragged around for awhile, my friends each taking a turn to keep me company. It's kind, but infuriating. They all remark how I seem different, asking if I dreamed when I was 'unconscious' and if I did, what I saw. What was I supposed to tell them? I was a video game character, who spent what felt like two years traipsing through a world that apparently doesn't exist fighting monsters? No.
Finally I can't take it anymore. I disappear, running to where a small smithy had been set up. One man was selling blades while another worked on a sword. Despite my body's lack of strength, my mind hasn't been taken from me. I can regain that which I have lost, but those subtle lessons, taught through hard won experience and a few skillful masters, those I still retain. I cast a practiced eye on the steel. Snorting as I examined each weapon, I realize that the steel is even cheaper than my own shoddy weapons. At least my weapons could last a few engagements, these looked like they would break if I sneezed on them hard enough.
"Excuse me, something I can help you with?" I turn to see the vendor smiling at me. That merchant smile when he thinks he make a quick profit. I smile slightly, letting him think I'm another sheep.
"Yes, I was wondering where you kept the real steel. These are so shoddy it looks like they would break if I stare at them hard enough." The one in the forge threw back his head and laughed. The one in the front got flustered.
"These are quality decorative pieces I assure you." I shake my head, picking up a sword and testing it.
"The weight is off, the edge wont hold and the balance is nonexistent." I slap the blade back down, smirking as the guy glared at me. He went to argue when another voice cut him off.
"Derek, its fine." The smith walks over to me as the other guy goes back to the forge. The smith looks me over once or twice. "So young man, what do I call you?"
"Aedan…Aed for short." The smith nodded, sticking his hand out.
"John, well Aed, its unusual for a person to come to my store, and question the quality of my weapons." I shrug, gesturing the table filled with scrap metal.
"If that's the best of your ability, I apologize, but the techniques and metals that went into forging those weapons, shoddy at best." The smith, John, just laughed again. John was a giant man, with a great black beard, black and grey hair, as well as dark blue eyes. He looked like a bear, with bugling arms, a true smith.
"This lot, no this isn't my work, I just sell them. My work, hmm come here." John motions for me to follow behind the table. He pulls me behind the improvised workshop and opens a large chest. Inside were several axes, knives, swords, all types of weapons. My mouth watered at the sight. While not silverite or dragon bone, these were high quality steel, almost as good as veridium. I examined as many as I could, a leaf shaped blade that reminded me of Zevran's crow dagger. There was a sword just like of Maric's long sword, another was the picture of Duncan's. John watched by the side, a smirk on his face. "I take it you like them kid?" I nod as I reached for a hand axe, this one with a bearded head. Not as heavy or pronounced as the dwarven axes, but it had a good heft to it. As I spin the weapon back and forth, I can almost see Thedas. Hear the sounds of battle, the laughter as my two rogues dance through enemies, darkspawn…No! I almost slam the axe down. I can't let my mind wander, that will only cause me more grief.
"These are very good, why not put these on display?" John shrugged as he took the axe, slipping a leather sheath on the axe before setting it back in the trunk.
"Because these are a lot more expensive than a few ren fair geeks will pay for, plus if they do, I doubt they will appreciate it as much as say, someone like yourself." I nod. As I continue to examine the weapons I see the perfect axe. It's a tomahawk, like the one in my belt, but the beak is more pronounced, the handle was slightly longer and the blade sharpened to nice point on both ends. I picked it up, it was balanced perfectly. "Ah I guess the clothes don't lie, you an Indian fighter kid?"
"No." I had read about Indian fighters in my history books, thankfully I had a small library at home, a good portion of it being history. Some were good men, but most were assholes. John just nods even as I examine another of those large fighting knives, Bowie knives, that's their names. This one sported an edge on the curve of the back of the blade. This one was also balanced to be thrown.
"Not a fan of swords?" I shrug as I cast a critical eye on a boot knife, it was a bit longer than a modern knife, being about a foot long over all, with six inches of actual blade.
"I like them, but I always thought they were too difvficult to wield unless done with two hands. But with my body, using a sword with both hands is a bit difficult, thus I prefer hand axes and daggers or fighting knives." John nodded. In Thedas it took a lot of training before I got to the point I could use a sword and axe together, here, I don't even want to think bout it. I could feel him staring as I continued to examine the blades. Finally he spoke.
"Aedan, you seem to know a lot about steel, and unless my people skills are off, you have the look of someone who needs something to do. So I got a proposition for you?" I turned and faced the smith, nodding for him to continue. "Well I need an assistant at my real forge. Derek is…alright, but he's not a good judge of steel. I need someone with a critical eye who can judge the raw materials and help with the work. You might be a bit scrawny now but in a few weeks you'll be used to it." I was stunned. Working in a forge, me? Sure I learned how to spot a good blade, but I don't have the skill to actually forge weapons! Yet it was something…pure. It wouldn't be tainted by my memories, or my confusion. Yes, I need this, badly.
"Yes, yes I will." John threw back his head and laughed again. He seems to do this quite often.
"Well, first here's my card, call me when you can start, but talk it over with your folks kid, no doubt you know how to use that knife you got in your boot, but I'd rather not make you test your skills on me." How? No not worth looking into it. This man is more than he seems, and that could prove useful in learning how to readjust to this world. We conversed for awhile longer, before my friends found me. They spent several minutes examining John's wares; I had to stop one of them from buying a cheap knife. Eventually we leave, but not before I make a purchase. I buy two simple well balanced fighting knives and sheathes, with straps for my boots or, my preference, my forearms. When I got home, I talked to my parents bout John and the smithy. It took a while, my parents met John several times, as well interrogating me bout if this is what I want. Two weeks later I found myself in John's workshop, leaning about smithing techniques and working harder than I've ever worked before. It was just what I needed.