He was running, from darkspawn? No, that didn't seem quite right and he couldn't sense any now. Had he been fighting darkspawn? It didn't matter, he has to keep running, whatever was following he didn't want it to catch up with him.
Was that someone ahead? It looked like a woman. Where even were they? It sort of looked like the Fade had, but that couldn't be right, the last he remembered he had been in Redcliffe. No, it has been Haven, hadn't it?
He was nearly at the woman now but he couldn't make out her face, as though there was a bright light just beyond her. He stumbled but she reached out a hand to him; he stretched meet it and there was a flash of green light then nothing.
He awoke slowly, struggling out of strange dreams. Maker's breath, the darkspawn dreams were the worst part of being a Warden. He stretched, or tried to, buy something was restraining his wrists, and then he was suddenly wide awake. What the...?
He took in his surroundings at a glance. He was in a stone cell, with a barred door, no guards in the cell with him but at least one outside. He was still wearing his armour, and it felt pretty uncomfortable, but his weapons and shield were missing. His hands were shackled in front of him, the left one aching fiercely, and he looked down, expecting to see bruising or a half-healed injury as he clenched his fist. Instead he was surprised yet again at the vivid green glow which seemed to be coming from the slash across his palm, a sharp pain and a sensation of magic.
He didn't have time to dwell on it though as at that moment the door was flung open and several armed guards filed in, followed by a severe looking woman in Nevarran styled armour, wearing the symbol of the Seekers of Truth. The expression on her face quashed his instinctive sarcastic comment and instead he swallowed hard. Maker, why did she look so angry? Where they still looking for Kallian? How had he gotten here anyway?
The woman snarled at him, "Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now?"
"You've only just met me," he said, deflecting as usual. It was clearly the wrong thing to say as the woman seemed to get angrier.
"The Conclave is destroyed," she said. "Everyone who attended is dead. Except you."
The words struck like a blow. Maker, no. There had been hundreds of people at the Conclave. He shook his head in denial - why couldn't he remember anything?
"Explain this?" she demanded, blunt nails digging into his hand as she turned it palm up and green lightning cracked across it again.
"It feels like magic?" he volunteered, not entirely certain she wanted an actual answer but unwilling to risk irritating her further if she did.
"How dare you?" He thought for a moment and was going to hit him and tensed against a strike but a hooded figure, who must have been waiting just outside the door, grabbed her arm, holding her back. "Cassandra, we need him."
He recognised the accent first, then a wave of indignation washed over him. "You said everyone at the Conclave was dead," he accused the Seeker - Cassandra, had Leliana called her?
She looked impassive. "You're hardly in a position to advise us of lying," she replied.
Leliana stood between the two of them and looked at him imploringly. "Alastair, we need you to be honest with us. What were you even doing here?"
He supposed he shouldn't have expected a straight answer from her. "Well," he caught himself, it probably wasn't the right time to make a joke even if he was desperate to break the tension. He couldn't tell the whole truth, it would look bad under the circumstances, but he could offer part of it. "I have a letter for you, from Kallian. She says she's tiring of Zevran's singing. It isn't as good as yours."
Her lips twitched and he figured was as close to a smile as he was going to get. "I'd get it for you but my hands are kind of tied right now... and I don't know where my backpack is."
The Seeker still looked angry but Leliana had relaxed at least a little. "Tell us the truth about what happened and we'll release you."
Alistair frowned. "I'm not sure what was real and what was just a dream. I remember being chased, I thought it was darkspawn but that can't have been right. It looked like I was in the Fade and there was a woman. She reached out to me and there was a flash of green light... And that's it, then I woke up here, wherever here is."
Over his head he could tell Leliana and the Seeker were having a conversation of facial expressions but he couldn't tell if it was good or bad for him. Maker, he missed Kallian right now, though he was glad she wasn't caught up in this. Finally they seemed have come to a decision as Leliana turned to leave.
"You head to the forward camp," the Seeker told her, as she leant and released him
Alistair stumbled, his feet numb. How long had he been sat there? How long had it been since... actually neither woman had said how the Conclave had been destroyed. "What rift?" he asked. "What did happen?"
The Seeker frowned at him, though she looked less angry now. Our maybe he was just getting used to it. "It'll be easier to show you," she said, hesitating over the manacles at his wrists but ultimately removing them.
He followed her slowly, rubbing sore wrists, wincing as circulation returned to his feet. The cell turned out to be in one of the new buildings the Chantry had had constructed around the original village of Haven but Alistair didn't have any time to reminisce as his gaze was drawn to the sky where there an actual hole, outlined in the same sickly green as on his hand.
"We call it 'the Breach,'" the Seeker said. "It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows bigger with each passing hour." She turned back to face him. "It's not the only such rift. Just the largest. All were caused the explosion at the Conclave."
He didn't remember any explosion but the rest was clear enough. "So I was in the Fade then," he said, looking up at the eerily familiar light. The thought made him slightly queasy, like after eating much of that soft Orlesian cheese, as he remembered the last time he had been there and all he has lost then.
"It appears so." The Seeker shrugged, presumably unaware of his painful memories, continuing, "unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world."
Alistair shuddered as a pulse of energy, like multiple lightning strikes, crashed out of the Breach, then cried out as the mark on his hand flared and rocked him with agonising pain. His knees buckled with the strength of the pain, but there was no physical wound to show for it.
The Seeker reached out to support him but he waved her assistance away. "It's not so bad " he joked, "on a scale of one to fighting archdemon. I just want expecting it."
She nodded seriously. "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads... and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this isn't much time."
"The may sound obvious but the mark is magic, yes? And you are a Seeker? You have tried to dispel it, haven't you?"
"Yes, the mark and the rifts both," she said, sounding sympathetic for the first time. "It helped delay the spread but no more."
Alistair nodded and set his shoulders. "So, what's the plan for this rift then? I hope you're not just planning on pushing me into it and hoping for the best. Kallian would probably be upset."
The Seeker looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. "We'll find out shortly. It is our only chance - and yours."
"Wow. That sounds like a great offer. Well sure, my calendar's looking clear right now so I'm all yours."
She was starting to look murderous again and Alistair shut up, before she regretted keeping alive after all. Maybe she and Anora could start a little club. He swallowed down another comment as they reached the main street of the village and people fell silent.
The Seeker walked half a step behind him, a guiding hands on his shoulder blade. He got the feeling she was glaring the people they passed, daring them to speak out, from the way the occasional one stepped up as though to speak and then subsided.
He almost wished she would let them make their accusations, it would be better than the weight of their stares. It was an improvement on the last time he'd been to Haven - being attacked by crazed dragon cultists - but not by much. Still, he had never been able to bear silence. "You wouldn't think it was only 10 years ago since is these people were probably cheering me on the streets of Denerim."
She shot him a quelling look. "The people of Haven mourn our most Holy Divine Justinia. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and Templars."
Alistair snorted in derision. Peace between mages and Templars was the last thing the Chantry wanted. No, they wanted the mages to agree to go back into their cages with a hollow promise the Templars would get a slap on the wrist for misbehaving.
"She brought their leaders together," the Seeker said firmly. "Now they're dead."
"The Conclave at White Spire was months ago," Alistair said and enjoyed the surprised look on her face. Did she think he wouldn't have heard about that? Surely they both knew he had been friends with Wynne if nothing else? "And I certainly know the leaders of the free mages weren't invited to Haven."
Indeed one of them had seen him off from Redcliffe just a few days earlier. *Mother... Maker don't let that have been our final goodbye* The Seeker looked suspiciously at him again but Alistair want going to hide where his sympathies lay. The Seekers of Truth were supposed to keep the Templars in line and look how well that has gone for Kirkwall - and now they too had broken away from the Chantry. Still, better not to reveal too much or they would start to look deeper into his motives for being here and Leliana had known him too long for gun to get away with lying to her.
They had reached the town gages and the Seeker gestured for the guards to let them pass. "Come, it is not far."
"I think I'm going to need now than my sharp wit against demons," Alistair said. She turned to glare at him. "Are you really going to make me head out there without even a sword? Maker, you so actually believe I did this, don't you?"
"Someone did it and you are our only suspect," she said, then seemed to relent. "But you're right, I cannot protect you. Wait here."
She walked over to one of the guards who was armed with two swords and, after a short muted conversation, she walked away with one of them, sheathing it on her own belt. "I will keep hold of it for now though," she said as she walked off.