Hello, friends and fans (if you get the reference then you are officially awesome :P)! This is my first chapter of my first story EVER, and I'm really, really excited that I finally got myself hyped up enough to try this out. 'Micro, you gotta do this! There are so many things you can do here!' says the creativist in me. My inner slacker however, goes a little something like 'Why even bother? Someone will eventually write these stories that have been driving you up a wall since you were eleven; just relax and enjoy being lazy'. I think it's safe to say which side won :)

Now, this story will combine two of my favorite games: Dragon Age Origins and Fire Emblem: Awakening. If only I could have done this sooner, when my mind was only occupied with those games, but I shall be soon replaying them to get a better grasp of how to explain my protagonist's abilities.

Disclaimer: I don't own either Dragon Age Origins nor Fire Emblem: Awakening. If I did, there would be dozens of stories about Darkspawn and Risen fighting each other to the death! Muahaha!

And now, my fellow citizens of Earth, it is time to begin!

Chapter One: Another World?

There was nothing but darkness in this void. No sound, no smell, no sense of feeling.

The sensation of touch returned first. A pulse began to spread throughout the chasm, pushing blood through the veins. His limbs began to twitch as the life-fluid seemed to flood his body. Smell can next. Rotting flesh assaulted him, throwing what little semblance of recovery into jeopardy.

Worst of all, however, were the sounds. Cries of men and women, helpless before the swarm of corpse-like monsters that stormed the walls of Denerim. Weapons clashing, with man and monster falling with ever increasing numbers in a matter of moments. The feral roar of the archdemon as his blade was thrust into its heart, finally capable of getting past its defences. The whirring sound of...something... opening up right before his eyes. Above the burst of light, the source of that whirring sound sucked both him and the slain archdemon up and away.

In a scream rivaling the entire darkspawn horde, Alim shot up like an arrow. Someone nearby was clearly spooked, as something blunt stuck him on the head, and he promptly fell back into unconsciousness.

When Alim awoke once again, the only sound he made was a small groan when the headache came roaring in. The lights in the tent, which was big enough to hold at least a dozen men, flickered as the wind blew in. Clearly, a storm was brewing, as the tent flapped open constantly, water spraying through the entryway. As he looked down, he noticed a shadow that had gone over him, and when he looked up, the sight was something he had never quite seen before.

Above him stood a woman who stood at about six feet tall, perhaps a little less. She wore a light purple yukata underneath a purple cloth that reached down to her ankles. Tying up her clothes was a metal sash of some kind across her waist. She had metal guards on her upper and lower arms, and a long, slender blade adorned each of her hips. The cloth around the grip was damp with sweat, an indication of an expert swordsman, or woman in this case.

What caught his attention most, however, was her face. Her skin was a pale, soft white tone. She had a small mouth that seemed to be perpetually frowning in anger. Or was it frustration? The woman's eyes was what surprised him the most. They were filled with suspicion, curiosity, and a surprising amount of weariness, not unlike his own.

"When you have finished staring, perhaps you could answer my questions?" The woman asked rather curtly. "Fie, it seems like you are still out of sorts, so I will ask you again. Are you one of Walhart's cronies, come to assassinate me? Or are you some common highwaymen, preying on those desperate to escape this horrible war?"

Alim didn't understand her at all. "How could there still be war waging out here when the archdemon was slain? Surely there isn't some band of darkspawn that is refusing to give in, not now that I ended the Blight?"

Now it was the woman's turn to put on a quizzical look. "What on earth are you talking about? Archdemon? Darkspawn? Blight?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Fie, it seems I hit your head harder than I thought. The only enemy here are Walhart, Yen'fay, and their thousands of troops that are about to storm this town. Now, I ask you again, what is your business here?"

Alim was prepared for many answers, but not one like this. How could this woman not know about the bloody Blight of all things? She never gave any hint of messing with him, so something was clearly off. "Listen, I don't know why you think you know when you're talking about, I need to go. What part of Ferelden am I in? How far is Denerim from there? I need to make sure my friends are alright, and not killed by the remnants of the horde."

Again, the woman shook her head, this time in annoyance. She went to the table in the center of the tent and pulled out a world map. Alim's stomach dropped in fear of what he knew she was about to say. "There is no Ferelden or Denerim in the world that I know of. We are on the continent of Valm, on the border of the central and southern portions of the continent, where Walhart and Yen'fay, respectively, are coming on our northern and southern ends to crush us resistance fighters. Fie, are you sure you're alright?"

His heart wanted to deny what the woman was telling him, but his eyes could not ignore the fact that her map showed two continents that were certainly not Ferelden nor Orlais. Being as adaptable as Alistair had praised him for being, Alim decided to ignore the dread that filled from his stomach to his heart and asked the questions that've been on his mind since he awoke. "Who are you? What is going on, and why did you take me in so suddenly?"

As if expecting to hear those questions, the intriguing woman delved into her answers. "My name is Say'ri, leader of this rebellion. Walhart the Conqueror has spent the last two years conquering all of Valm, and only scattered band of rebels are left to oppose him. This is the largest band of us, but we are only twenty thousand strong. Walhart is coming from the north, and alone commands roughly fifty thousand men, while Yen'fay commands at least twice as much in the south. As for why you are in my command tent and not dead, I couldn't let one as unique as you out of my sight until I got all the answers out of you that I could." Say'ri then crossed her arms in front of him, awaiting his response.

While most of her speech had been told in mild annoyance, mentioning this Yen'fay character put her in a very bad mood, and he didn't want to see how ferocious she could get with her blades, so he set to steer the topic away from any mention of Yen'fay. Perhaps he could glean some information on the situation he was in. "So, why can't you just escape to the east or west? Wouldn't that be easier then wondering what you can do here?"

Apparently that was the wrong question to ask Say'ri, as she began to pace back and forth hastily, seething with her every word. "Fie, we can't just leave here. We have too many wounded men to move swiftly in any direction. Even if we were to get away from both armies, we are outside a town that is known to disapprove of Walhart's methods. He would raze every one of those buildings just to teach them a lesson for 'harboring' rebels." At this point, she had begun to raise her volume in exasperation. "We cannot just leave the townspeople to their fates. If we did, we would be no better than my damned brother, betraying all those around us!"

Alim didn't know who her brother was, but he had a suspicion as to whom it may be. "Would your brother happen to be this Yen'fay in charge of the men to the south?" Her cringing was all the confirmation he needed. "Then don't fight in the south." Her eyes had hardened into steel, and Alim knew he had to save himself fast. "What I meant to say is that your chances of survival would be better if you tried to break through Walhart instead of your brother. Fewer men to fight through means more of yours can survive, right?"

Whatever Say'ri was about to say was cut off by two loud whistles from the opposite end of the tent. Her face dropped into the rictus of despair, and Alim had a sinking feeling as to what was to come. "Fie, we are too late! Both armies are within five miles of our camp! How has it come to this?!" Alim saw that his sword and armor had been put on the table, and his staff was on the floor.

Seeing as how Say'ri was in great stress and very distracted, he sprung from his cot and strode over to his equipment. Before he reached the table, however, a hand held his arm in a vice grip. "Where do you think you're going?" the swordsmistress demanded in a pinched and angry tone.

"Well, you're going to need help, right?" he asked. Her widened eyes were filled with something he had seen for the first time since they've started talking. Hope. Hope that he would be able to help her and her men somehow escape this predicament. "Take the majority of your men to the north and cut a path through Walhart's men. Ask for volunteers to remain in the south and stall Yen'fay as long as possible. I shall be the first volunteer, and when we are about to be overrun, we can sneak by both armies and regroup with whomever survives."

For a moment, she looked like she was willing to believe him, but Say'ri's eyes were filled with doubt and expectant of betrayal. "And how can I trust that you won't turn and run the second you leave this tent?"

He looked around the tent, as if finding an answer that would satisfy her question, when his eyes laid upon his staff. Picking it up, Alim confirmed the plan he had been thinking of, one that would definitely get her satisfaction. "Take this. This stave is one of my few permanent possessions I have left, since I am apparently not anywhere near home right now. I will definitely be returning to collect it, and if I ran away I wouldn't be able to find you again, would I?" He finished with the most disarming smile he was capable of.

Either it was more effective than he thought it was, or Say'ri was just that in need for an answer that would mean one more skilled fighter that would help her cause. Either way, she nodded her acceptance of his proposal and tied Alim's staff inside a bundle of cloth. Before he stepped beyond the tent drapes, however, he had one last question for the warrior woman. "Why did you save me?" he asked. "You don't know who I am or where I am from, and yet I awoke in your tent. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I am wondering why you gave me your hospitality."

Say'ri looked down at the ground somewhat sheepishly, but responded, "You probably wouldn't believe me, but a dragon by the name of Lady Tiki told me that one with a tainted aura but pure of heart would be sent to aid in quelling the calamities of this world."

Alim pondered her words for a moment, then grinned. "Well, I've heard stranger things. I'm glad your dragon friend says I'm alright."

The... unique man... left the tent, and Say'ri began to prepare for possibly her last battle. When she was about to leave the tent, however, the stranger returned. "Before I forget, you can tell your dragon that Alim is the name of the 'tainted' and 'pure-hearted' man that has come to help." Alim's face broke into another grin, and he left the tent again, this time for good.
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Hey guys! As I said in my note above, this is my first actual story I'm writing for FanFiction, so I know I have plenty of progress on my road to success. Any criticism you have, good or otherwise, would be immensely helpful.

Now, because I'm still in school, chapters won't be coming out all the time, but I will aim to get one out to you guys every two or three weeks at least. I hope I didn't disappoint, and remember; imagination is key!