It was the sweetest thing Miriden had ever heard. And the saddest.
She knew what it was, of course, and why it pained her so much. It'd been about four years since this bittersweet melody laced her eardrums. She greeted it almost as if it were an old friend. But this time wasn't anything like it'd been four years ago. It was louder, smoother, elegant even. A chorus of harmonic voices synced into one like a peaceful lullaby, instead of a damning triumphant theme of doom like it'd been during the Fifth Blight.
There were a lot more differences besides the enthralling song, though. She was alone this time. Back then, she had the company of her fellow Grey Warden who would soon become her lover to reassure her that it was alright until she could finally go back to sleep. It seemed that whatever this version of the Calling was, it was making up for Alistair's absence with this renewed beauty.
Was he hearing it too? By the Stone, he didn't have anyone with him. Miriden could handle facing this thing alone- she hated it, Paragons, she hated it so much -but Alistair was a lot more soft-hearted. He needed her, and they were so far apart. They were an entire sky apart, in fact, given that he was on the surface and she was underground.
It couldn't be another Blight. No, it was too soon after the last one. And she'd only been a Grey Warden for five years; it wasn't possible for her Calling to come so suddenly.
Kal repartha, valos atredum. Amgefor, amgetoll. Meka tir aedros atuna. Amgeforn, amgetoll. Kal repartha. Kal repartha. Aedros atuna.
Miriden stumbled back and gasped. The calls were coming quicker now. She remembered Alistair telling her that some Grey Wardens can understand the archdemon; was that what this was? There was no archdemon out and about to understand, but what other explanation was viable when she was able to make out words in the song? Maybe she was going mad.
No. Those were locations, and this wasn't an archdemon's call. This was an Old God's call. Kal repartha, a place where we may meet in peace, aedros atuna, the great river that is never touched by the sun. So much of dwarven culture had been lost, they only salvaged a few strings of sentences from their ancient tongues. These words were not among those salvaged. There was no reason she should have understood it.
Whether she was going mad or not, this had to have merit. She wondered if it'd be best to take a trip to the surface and see if Alistair was experiencing similar troubles. Or, no, she couldn't waste time with that. Sending a messenger bird wasn't far out of the way, however. He didn't like it when she sent letters instead of showing up in person, but she couldn't make it to him in time if this was her Calling instead of the song of the Old Gods.
She stood rigid until her breathing steadied and her nerves calmed. Slowly, the song grew quieter and quieter until it was just a low, tolerable hum. It was as quiet as it was going to get, and so long as she could focus, she could deal with it. With trembling fingers, she moved over to her desk, eyes glossing over the maps laid out on them. They were Deep Roads maps.
A river, she reminded herself. A river... a river... She ran her pointer finger along the maps, having to alternate between them to find what she was looking for. She'd never heard of a river being underground. Maybe she glazed over that history lesson. Her finger landed on a blue trench between Kal'Sharok and Czibor Thaig.
Kal'Sharok would be a problem. The dwarves that lived there hated the dwarves of Orzammar, calling them traitors of the Stone and bewitching their every step. They wouldn't let them pass without a fight or appeasement, and Miriden had nothing to give them. She wouldn't kill her own people, rather they hated her or not, to see if a very small lead provided any fruit.
Appeasement, however... She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, rubbing her chin. If they were able to clear the darkspawn surrounding Kal'Sharok and gain some more land for the dwarves that lived there, perhaps that would suffice. But there was no telling just how many darkspawn were inhabiting the borders- no scouts had been sent to those lands in a very, very long time. Those parts of the Deep Roads were far back, anyway, and since a Blight had just ended, it'd likely be a suicide mission if they didn't have half an entire army at their backs.
And what if they did have half an army at their backs? She couldn't risk wasting the lives of what precious little men she had, but if someone could lend her a hand...
Alistair. He was the king of Ferelden, right? He could get her an army. Lead it himself, if he wanted. Could she have the heart to ask him of that after not visiting for over two years? She considered other options, not wanting to take advantage of the only man she loved. She wanted to see him, she did. The more time she spent in Orzammar and the stronger her Stone Sense became, the less she wanted to leave, though.
The Legion of the Dead was a formidable order. A bit savage, but they killed darkspawn for a living. Surely they wouldn't mind killing darkspawn for a cause. Talking them into helping would be the hard part. She guessed she could offer them a place in Orzammar if they wanted it, though she doubted they cared at all for being part of a city-state that all but treated them like dust beneath their shoes.
Alistair wasn't out of the question. If she had both armies at her disposal, plus the warrior caste, it'd be more than enough. She had already been making plans to lead a march against the darkspawn and end them once and for all; the only thing she'd been missing was the locations of the Old Gods in order to slay them and put an end to the Blight. None of that seemed possible until now, and this was her only lead. She wasn't confident.
It was her duty as a Grey Warden to defeat the darkspawn and her duty as a queen to save her people before they lost their entire culture and kingdom. Here was a way to do it, and she'd get no where if she didn't try. She could start with the river and slowly lead her army through the thaigs, taking down as much darkspawn as possible and sealing the tunnels to make it official. She'd seal tunnels until there were no more tunnels left to seal.
...If the Assembly agreed to it.
There was the downfall to a constitutional monarchy. Kings and queens weren't allowed to do anything without the approval of an entire governmental branch, and gaining that approval took time, patience, and resilience that Miriden didn't think she could afford. Times were a lot simpler during the Blight. A lot harder, sure, and they hadn't been lacking in enemies, but politics were stressing her out. At least back then she could simply bludgeon her problems to death with her maul.
Taking the throne of Orzammar had been her plan for a long time. She'd had about two years to prepare herself for the responsibility. Gaining her traitor of a brother's trust had been difficult and worth it in the long run. Blood must be repaid in blood, Bhelen himself would say. Well, blood repaid. Trian could return to the Stone peacefully now. Perhaps her method of dealing with Bhelen had been a bit unorthodox, she admitted, though it was nothing less than he deserved, betraying his family like he did. Executing him publicly after stealing his throne earned Miriden the reputation for being both creative in her punishments and ruthless. It was a reputation the monarch of Orzammar needed, in her opinion, since stability was what the kingdom lacked most.
How she got there was of no importance anymore. It offered her little reassurance that Alistair was in the same position she was, surrounded by nobles and politics and maelstroms waiting to happen the moment he blinked at the wrong time. She wondered if Ferelden royalty was less demanding than Orzammar's. For Alistair's sake, she hoped so.
She heaved a weary sigh and headed towards her door. She supposed she could arrange a meeting with her cabinet and confide in their advice giving as little information as possible. The last thing she needed was rumors spreading about the queen planning an exalted march against the Deep Roads. The repercussions of an episode like that made her shudder to think about.
When she reached the meeting chambers, her cabinet was already waiting for her. The team consisted of three members: A middle aged woman with cropped red hair and a scar crossing her chiseled cheekbones; an older, more experienced man with bright eyes and a kind smile whom Miriden was confident would never judge her; and a cocky young man with a braided brunette beard who spoke out of term more than he should have. Why was he part of her cabinet, again?
The woman with red hair, named Sekla Briskly, was first to greet the tired queen. "Atrast vala, Majesty."
"You are troubled," said Audalis Heras, his graying beard as well groomed as ever.
Miriden approached the war table, frowning. She had a crease in her brow that was becoming permanent the more time she spent at court. "I trust that whatever I'm about to say will stay well within this room," She was looking right at Daren Hilney as she spoke. He scoffed softly and she ignored him. "and you will give me counsel as you are supposed to do. Nothing I tell you is solid, and I do not know where I'm at with this. You'll know that I do not do anything unless I am certain it will benefit Orzammar."
Audalis, as always, was eager to support his queen. She wished some of that enthusiasm would rub off on Daren. "Of course, Majesty. What's the problem?"
"It's not a problem. Not yet, anyway. I'm hesitant to bring the matter to the Assembly, which is why I'm going through you first," She realized she was stalling. She made a mental note to stop doing that. "I've heard the Calling, but I strongly believe it is not my time, and the Calling is coming to me due to some other force. You should know that this Calling and the one I heard during the Blight were very different, namely with this one, I could make out words.
"It's not impossible for Grey Wardens to understand the archdemons or the Old Gods or whatever this is, but it is... rare. Perhaps me joining during the peak of a Blight is what provoked this, or being so near to the Stone and the mass of darkspawn. It matters not. What does matter is that I believe I have the location of one of the Old Gods. As a Grey Warden, my duty is to do whatever it takes to end the Blight, and if this is an opportunity to end them for good-"
"This is ridiculous," Daren interrupted.
Miriden didn't seem to notice he'd spoken. She continued on as if nothing had been said. "-then I cannot ignore it. However, it is also my duty to protect Orzammar and do what is best for Orzammar. I think now is the time to strike against the darkspawn. I've devised several solutions, but I'm uncertain which route is the best to take." She did a rundown of all the plans she'd considered, including Alistair and the Legion and Kal'Sharok. She was careful to allude from spilling the location of the Old God.
All eyes turned to Sekla. She was the most decisive one of the cabinet, if not the most helpful. Miriden was more than capable of making the hard decisions herself, otherwise she wouldn't be a very good queen, but when the stakes were as high as losing the entire underground dwarven population, she needed insight. That's what the cabinet was for, anyway.
"This is a very daring plan, and there are thousands of risks, but you already know that and I'm not one to lecture," said Sekla. "and I agree with you. While the darkspawn are still recovering from the Fifth Blight, it's the best time to strike. Orzammar has prospered with the new trade routes we've established with the surfacers and the astonishing alliance you and the King of Ferelden have arranged. We're at our peak. Why not now?
"So, here's my advice: Take all of those routes. You need everyone. Hell, confide in the casteless. Snobby warrior castes won't like it but guess whose ass is planted firmly on the throne? Not theirs. So go with both."
Miriden felt a smirk tug on her lips. Among being the most decisive, Sekla was also the most amusing. Her advice gave Miriden a lot of food for thought. The casteless were certainly an option, but it could cause some political unrest that Orzammar really didn't need. There was also the risk of the warrior caste and the casteless being unable to work together. Could be an easy fix, if she divided the units. It was a good idea. Best to not bring it up to the Assembly, though.
"And you two?" she continued, eyes glazing between Daren and Audalis.
"This will upset a lot of people, Your Highness," Audalis answered. "And it will also be a great victory if we succeed. It's a good plan. I say take the risk, if these alliances prove fertile."
Miriden nodded in agreement and turned her attention expectantly to Daren. He seemed to be mulling it over, a concentrated furrow in his brow and his lips pursed slightly. "This is a suicide mission," he said finally. "Unless you get directly to the source, you'll be killing all those darkspawn for nothing, because they'll just keep coming back. And the darkspawn aren't the only foes that inhabit the Deep Roads, don't forget that."
It was a fair point, as much as it made Miriden's teeth itch since it was coming from Daren. "Any other enemies can be easily thwarted by an entire army. Do we all agree the plan has hope?"
Three nods of acceptance gave her her answer.
She took a deep breath and nodded in retaliation. Thousands of lives would be lost if this wasn't a solid lead. They would soon find out if the end truly justified the means.