DISCLAIMER: This will be the disclaimer from this chapter on. I do not own Dragon age or any related media. I only own Selena "Lena" River.

An excerpt from the personal diary of Madam Lena of House River

When you've spent the majority of your young adult life coasting along, barely making ends meet, you're considered pampered. Truth be told I was a pampered American from Earth and then I was suddenly a pampered American from Earth in Thedas. While I had at one time, like many Dragon Age Fans, imagined that such an idea of being in Thedas would be amazing. Trust me it is not.

Thedas is terrifying, scary and very deadly. It is a jungle of barbarians out to kill anyone that is too different from their status quo. If you aren't amongst their supposed civilized society, then you have the myriad of dangerous beasts, creatures, and plant life out to kill you in the wild. From bears larger than grizzlies, to brontos, druffalos, hell even wild mabari would rather see you dead than wait for you to domesticate them. Although I did come across a rather docile fennec fox. That was short lived as apparently it had been a young fennec fox and it's parents came bounding out hissing like the feral and potentially rabid beasts that they were. Needless to say, I ran like hell.

And these are just the relatively normal beasts. Don't even get me started on the drakes, the dracolisk and good grief the dragonlings and dragons! It's not called Dragon Age for nothing. You think the dragons in the games are the only ones around? HA… I've had the misfortune of stumbling on several dragon and wyvern nests and there are far more nests across Thedas than the games and books would have you think. But if you think stumbling into a dragon nest is bad try disturbing a ram from grazing, suddenly you have to hightail away from their horns while it chases you down.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me take you back to how this whole mess started. With a book and the Antiquarian.

The hurried footsteps of Grand Central Station pushed her along and out to the main hub away from the terminals. Lines and crowds of people hurrying to their trains and businessmen and women were running from one terminal to the next, trying to catch their trains. She however was not in a rush and so slowed her footsteps but pulled aside so those in a hurry could get through. Despite the heavy foot traffic, she was in a great mood with her carry on suitcase rolling behind her and headphones plugged into her iPod playing tunes by The Submarines and a copy of her favorite Dragon Age book in her hand to read on the cab ride. It was a great day to be on vacation and she was looking forward to exploring the concrete jungle that was New York City. However, a commotion ahead in the crowd of people had her, along with others, stretching to see what had happened. Rubberneckers slowing their pace to eye whomever was now holding up flow of movement.

She drew closer allowing her to see that the commotion had in fact been an elderly man. He wore a patchy brown suit and penny loafers. His flatcap barely contained his wild silver hair and he had a pair of precariously perched spectacles on the tip of his pinched nose. He was crouched crouched low on the floor with his trembling wrinkled fingers grasped at books and papers that were strewn about and out of his suitcase. He looked up and into the crowds, mouth agape as he tried to draw someone anyone to help him.

Her path in the crowd drew her closer to the struggling senior. Dozens of others simply walked past him acknowledging his presence with disgruntled mumbles and complaints. Yet no one seemed to stop to help, even as he tried to move faster to be less of an inconvenience. A few travelers in the crowd were in so much of a hurry they even stepped on one of the old man's books with a quick mumbled sorry or sometimes no apology.

She would have side stepped around him, like so many others in the crowd, but the elderly man's golden hued gaze met hers, pleading. She was struck with the unusual coloring of his eyes and captivated by the intensity of the plea in them. It pulled at her heart strings. Under normal circumstances and had she been like the others in a rush, she would not have stopped. But as she has a bit of time to spare, she up to him with a polite smile and stooped low to her knees to help the senior.

"You look like you could use some help." She gave a tight forced smile. "Is there any particular order the papers need to be?" She left the question hanging as she drew the books and papers closer to her and away from the rushing crowds.

"Yes-yes, I could." The old man nodded his head in thanks. "T-thank you. And no, no order I just need a bit of help getting them all." She had to strain to hear him over the bustle of noise s his voice was soft and gentle but graveled and hoarse with age. He'd probably be vocally asking for help but no one would have heard him over the crowds.

Carefully she picked up each book, dusting them off gently and straightened the papers before neatly tucking them into a book and then stacking the books in an orderly fashion.

The elderly fellow paused to watch her. He blinked quickly, a gleaming flash in his eyes as his pupils contracted into slits before dilating. His lips stretched wide before he opened his spilled suitcase, rearranging the books within to allow more room. Not all the books could fit, leaving a single stack. The old man used his fallen cane to stand, with his legs bent and torso still hunched over. His hand touched his lower back with a wince. "Thank you so much. If-if I could trouble you for a little bit more help?"

She knew where this might go but again, she was in no rush and she doubted anyone else would have helped the man. Not to mention her manners prevented her from outright saying no, even if she very much wanted to. "Do you need help carrying this home?"

"Yes, yes. It-it wouldn't be very far." he reassured her. "I live only a few blocks away." He wiped his nose with a clothe and removed his glasses to give them a light wipe before blinking up at her. He peered at her, his amber hues intense with that same plea that tore at her conscious.

"I…" It wasn't like she was in a hurry. Her check in wasn't for a few hours at the hotel. With resignation, she gave a light smile and released a sigh. "I'd be happy to. Which way do you live?"

"Oh thank you, young lady. It's just this way." He pointed out toward a side exit. Ignoring the grumbles and murmurs around them, she carried his stack of books and rolled her carry on after her as he pulled his own. It was mostly slow going up the stairs but once they were out of the noisy station they weaved around the sidewalk traffic down forty-second street and then turned onto the less populated third avenue.

"How far do you live?" She asked as the rate at which she saw other walkers decreased. It made her nervous as she was acutely aware that she was in an unfamiliar city and though the sun was still high in the sky, it still left an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach as they made their way further from the more populated areas of the city.

"Oh not far." He said moving slowly, nowhere near as fast as his fellow New Yorkers. "Are you here on holiday?" He asked.

"What?" She asked, confused.

"You have a carry on. Not many New Yorkers have that, unless they happen to be boosters. Are you a thief?"

"No-No!" She added quickly to his amusement. "But you know, you have a carry on too."

"But I'm a collector. And you already know what's in my bag." He smiled as he turned them down another road. This one a lot more populated and the presence of more cars made her breathe a little easier. "Well?"

She restrained a sigh. She wasn't a sharer but it would be rude to not make some semblance of small talk. "Yes. I'm on a small vacation. I've never been to New York before and I wanted to visit it at least once." She explained the barest of details.

"Isn't it a bit dangerous to travel by yourself, es-especially for a sweet young beautiful lady such as yourself?" He gave a grin and she had to admit it was quite adorable, for an old man anyway. But she gave a tight pleased smile at his compliment.

"It is, but I was going to stick to just the main roads and not really wander…" She trailed off looking around, for a moment she was unsure where she was but saw a street sign and reassured herself of where they were. She had spent weeks memorizing the streets and routes to take in NYC in preparation for this trip, she did not want to be caught lost anywhere in the Big Apple. The city was dangerous without adding in being lost.

"Ah well, I'll be sure to call you a cab, make sure you get back safely." He offered as they crossed the street, barely making it before the walk sign switched to stop.

"Oh you don't have to do that, Actually, I think I'm not that far from my hotel." She didn't want him to repay her, it was only the polite thing to do to help despite the inconvenience. Plus she got to see some of the streets and avenues she probably wouldn't have seen otherwise. They continued on in companionable silence turning down another street, this one vacant of all over pedestrians and darkened due to the tall buildings. "What do you collect anyway?"

"Books!" The old man proclaimed with cheek and excitement.

"I gathered as much." She deadpanned. "But what sorts of books? I didn't recognize any of the titles."

"Most wouldn't. They're all antiquated tomes, first editions from barely known authors of old. I collect them along with other antiques. I suppose you could call me an antiquarian but that would compete with my shop name." He chuckled. "Most of these books have also fallen out of favor at some point in history. I restore them and take care of them. Do you read much?"

"Yes, I love reading." This time she gave a genuine smile. Reading, books, writing, this she could talk about easily. "I never thought much about the preservation of books but that's interesting. What's the oldest book you've ever restored?" The old man lit up with excitement as he explained the process of restoration and preservation most museums implemented on older works of art. He took Imprints of the text illustrations that were embossed and how with recent technology they took scans and pictures so there would at least be a digital copy somewhere.

She mostly paid attention, instead taking stock of their surroundings. She'd heard horror stories about the city.

"I can see you're a reader of fantasy." He drew her attention from their surroundings as he pointed to the only book that stuck out in the stack she held.

She blanch, stopping to pull the smaller and newer book out from the stack of older tomes. It's cover in varying shades of gray with a depiction of a heavily armored and helmeted man. The words Dragon Age in large print and underneath Asunder. "Nearly forgot I was carrying this, wouldn't want to leave it behind." She placed it on top of the stack so it was visible.

"Hmm." The gentleman looked far off. "Ah, I know where I recognized that. My grandson, he's about your age. He plays these games on that what do you call it..."

"Do you mean a computer?" She offered amused.

"Yes, that!" He chuckled and wiped his nose with a small clothe he pulled from his suit jacket. "I'm not so old I don't know what video games are."

"Oh I didn't mean anything by it."

"Nonsense, I know how ancient I look. Besides, I highly approve of your reading material. Many of the books I collect are first editions of fairy tales, the basis for more contemporary fantasy." He turned them down another street, this one with more foot traffic. "I do like how storytelling has changed an-and become available to the young people, even through your...uh." He trailed off again.

"Computers?" She offered again and he gave a mock withering look her way.

"I would have remembered." he mumbled and then broke into a small coughing fit. He seemed to age even more as he coughed into his handkerchief. They resumed walking once he gained control of his breathing and beamed brightly at her, his eyes crinkled as he readjusted his glasses.

"But, nothing quite beats a good book." She quipped with a smile as they continued forward.

"Oh you flatter me, Miss..."

"Selena, or… Lena." There was no harm in giving her first name.

"I'm Rahmi Morgan, of Morgan and Sons." He held his hand out and she shook it.

"Morgan and Sons? Is that a law firm?" She asked, flushing when he gave a bark of laughter.

"N-no. I told you I'm a collector. It's just the name for our family run business. It dates back to colonial times, so we keep the business going." He waved a hand. "You'll see. The shop is really quite nice." He mused.

The unlikely pair continued on until they neared an overpass with a row of buildings underneath it. The buildings rattled as a train passed overhead at high speeds.

Lena gaped at the shop they approached. When he'd said antiques and books she imagined a rustic maybe even run down shop but what the old man walked up to was a very well maintained shop with a display, showcasing a grandfather clock, several dolls and a collection of first edition book replicas with signs advertising the real ones in stock. The shop window was made of a rich oak wood, polished and shined despite the gritty urban environment.

"Not what you expected huh?" Rahmi chuckled as he shuffled to the door and opened it. The bell over the door alerting the attendant there were visitors. "Come in dear. I have something for you. To thank you."

"Oh it was nothing at all." She wanted to wave it off. She followed him inside intending on dropping the books off and calling a cab.

"I insist." He nodded with a sense of finality and waved to the cashier.

"Grandfather? I told you to call me- oh! May I help you, Miss?" The store attendant looked the spitting image of the elderly gentleman, except sixty years younger and taller with short cropped black hair and the same intense golden hued eyes. Lena retracted into herself under his piercing gaze.

The interior of the shop was just as rich as the exterior. Bookshelves and stands filled with tomes, books and scrolls lined most of the walls and where there was an exposed wall, paintings and wall art hung. There were statues and plants, and ever a cage with an oddly colored bird swinging on its swing. There was even a small fireplace, though upon closer inspection it was an electric one. She couldn't imagine a live fire being around all this wood and books being good.

"Oh no, I was just-"

"This young lady was very kind to escort me home. Offer her something to drink while I fetch the book." He disappeared before she could tell him she didn't need anything. The gentleman moved a lot faster once inside the shop.

"Once Grandfather has his mind set, it's hard to get him to give up. There's no stopping him." The attendant sighed, shaking his head slowly. "I'm Daerin." He introduced himself with the tight polite smile of a service worker or what she called the customer service smile.

"Lena. I was just doing what anyone should do because he dropped his books- these books." She moved to put the stack down but Daerin came up and grabbed them.

"Thank you for helping him. I swear I tell him to call me to pick him up but he insists on walking." He moved to the counter with the stack and then stopped. "All of these books?" He eyed the top one, it was her book.

"That one is mine, sorry." So much for remembering about it.

"Was about to say. My grandfather wouldn't need to travel all the way to New Orleans to get a copy of this, I already have one." He clucked handing it to her. Lena grabbed it with haste to conceal it but his words registered and she blinked up at him. "So… you're a Dragon Age fan." His gaze examined her heavily.

It made her self-conscious of her frumpy appearance with her too large clothing meant to hide her overabundance of curves, She tugged at her light jacket, trying to hide. "Yeah. I mean yes. I am."

"Interesting... well grandfather said to get you something to drink. Please, have a seat. Is tea alright?"

She supposed she could go for some tea. "Uh, yeah."

"Jasmine?" He questioned with an intensity in his eyes. He blinked and like his grandfather his eyes contracted into slits briefly before he blinked again. Lena missed it as she sat in a lounge chair by the electric fireplace.

"That'd be great! It's actually my favorite kind of tea"

"Wonderful. I'll be right back, then." He was gone only a few minutes but came out with a tray of tea cups and set it on the small table between the two lounge chairs.

"So, which game is your favorite?" He poured the steaming water into the cups and Lena grabbed her cup. Tentatively she went to sip it but a thump sounded. They glanced up at the ceiling.

"I'm alright!" A graveled raised voice called. "Just some books fell."

"Is he actually okay?" She asked.

"Oh yes, grandfather is actually quite sprightly, despite his old age. " Daerin smiled. "So...?"

"I would say the second game is my favorite." She said as she blew on the tea.

"Really?" He looked shocked. "I would have pegged you for someone who'd like the newest one, Inquisition due to the pretty graphics." He gave a wink.

"Well, yes that is very nice, but I'm someone who appreciates a good story. And while Inquisition is very nicely written, the characters sort of…"

"Fall flat?" Daerin offered.

"Exactly!"

"Truth be told, I'm a big fan of Origins more, but I can see the allure of the second game." Daerin smirked and then faced her, leaned forward with all the seriousness he could muster. "Mages or Templars?" He quirked a critical eyebrow at her.

Lena was suspicious, she knew the potential dangers of that question. Well, not really dangers but it was a very important question in the fandom. "Mages." She said slowly with a shrewd look.

"Oh thank the maker. I thought you were one of those fangirls who were all for the Templars, just because of Alistair and Cullen." Daerin grinned. "When it's so obvious how much suffering mages go through."

"I know!" Lena exclaimed with a grin. The two quickly divulged into fan talk while sipping at their tea. The conversation flowing around the games the books, even the comics for well over an hour. Time seemingly flying by, until Lena's phone went off. She excused herself and an automated voice let her know she had until five to check in. She paled, having forgotten all about her reservation.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes. Sorry I lost track of time, it's almost time for me to check in. I had a nice time chatting but I really should get going." She picked up her bags and grabbed her carry on, intending on leaving.

"Wait, let me go call you a cab." Daerin pulled out his phone and with a few quick words into his cell there was a cab on its way. "Oh, do you mind if I have your number? I don't know many Dragon Age fans in real life. We should keep in touch." He added an extra charming smile, that Lena grinned at but gave him her cell and he sent a quick text and she added him to her contacts. "Now while you wait for the cab, I'll go see about my grandfather. I swear he was going to give you something."

She did wait, a wide smile as she tucked her phone away. Her eyes taking everything the shop The Antiquarian had to offer. Some of the paintings that adorned the few exposed walls looked to be hand painted.

There was one large photo of a woman and two children. She stepped to get a closer look. The painted woman had dark black hair pinned back by a crown of sorts that made her look like she had horns but a few locks escaped to hang on one side. Her golden hues eyes, piercing through whomever looked into them, were accentuated by a purple hued eye shadow. She wore an elaborate dark red and purple gown and in one hand she held a rod or staff of sorts. The two children were no doubt her own as they had the same piercing golden eyes. They too also held staff like things. The backdrop looked to be a tall winding castle framed in a green sky.

Lena met the gaze of the woman again. She really looked familiar.

"Ah, you've found the painting of my ancestor, Morgan." The graveled voice of Rahmi drew her from the painting.

"She's very beautiful."

"That she was and feared. Her two sons, Falon and Dirk took her name as surnames because of the fear they invoked, it commanded a certain respect as well. Falon was my great great… ooh so many greats grandfather." Rahmi shuffled closer. "But come, I have this book. I think you'll like it. It's called the Age of Dragons." The corners of his eyes crinkled.

"The Age of Dragons?" Lena laughed.

"I thought you might like that. It's quite a read. It really brings you right into the story." He held out a behemoth of a tome. The cover itself was intricately designed with metal casings and leather straps. The title was embossed in bronze coloring and a depiction of dragons and a lone cloaked figure walking straight for the dragon.

Lena grabbed the book, placing her copy of Asunder down on the counter. "Woah." She opened it and turned the pages. The first few pages had an odd assortment of characters, almost encrypted because she couldn't recognize any of it as any language she knew. She went to turn the page, catching a sharp edge and hissing. "Ouch, paper cut." She smiled at Rahmi and he reached for a tissue box and held it out. His eyes blinked, the pupils contracting into slits again. This time Lena caught it and blinked uneasily at him. She shook her head but looked back at the book.

"Go on, read the first page." He insisted with unrestrained glee. He looked younger when he smiled.

Lena turned to the first chapter and there was a full page illustration of a cloaked figure in a shop, facing a skeleton in a chair, odd assortments surrounding them. A large mirror and even what looked like a Golem. If she didn't know any better, this almost looked like the Black Emporium but this book looked ancient and couldn't be based off the game.

Once upon a time…Lena read and nearly rolled her eyes at the cliché beginning and skipped a few paragraphs in.

The antiquarian insisted she read the intricate tome he placed in front of her. "It will put you right into the story itself and you'll go on an amazing adventure."

"Adventure? What about romance?" the cloaked buyer asked, turning the pages. The figure hissed as they drew their fingers back and sucked on their bleeding finger, cut from the sharpest of paper edges.

Lena looked up at Rahmi. No… that was a coincidence.

"Aye romance too, if that's what you want." The seller assured the figure.

"Will there be realism?"

"If that is what you wish."

"There is nothing like a bad story that couldn't suspend my disbelief by not making it realistic. If it's too fantastical I just lose all interest."

Lena agreed with the cloaked figure.

"Fear not, this will have everything you desire in a fantastical tale." The seller boasted.

"Very well, how do I make it work?"

"Simply stare into the illustration right there."

Lena quirked her brow and looked at the first chapter's illustration and then back to the text. Only what was written changed, somehow.

She glanced at the image of the lounging immortal skeleton when a low humming began. It grew in pitch and reverberated around her steadily and increasingly.

There was a hum, faint at first and then it became louder. At first she thought it was just another train because it sounded like vibrating metal and but there was something off about this. Lena looked up but Rahmi was gone. She looked around the store and he wasn't in the room.

"Hello?" She called but no one answered. She turned back to the counter, movement from the book drawing her eye.

She returned to stare at the illustration, the image coming to life. A stone golem shifting boxes and an urchin child chasing away rats.

Lena returned to stare at the illustration, the image coming to life. A stone golem shifting boxes and an urchin child chasing away giant rats. She didn't look back at the text but it continued describing her movements, unbeknownst to her as she gazed at the picture moving.

The low humming became louder, almost deafening. She winced and went to cover her ears but It began to echo. She wanted to turn to ask what it was but she could not turn away from the book. She wanted to, but she couldn't; she physically could not. It drew her in more and more and as the sound cascaded around her.

The black ink of the text and picture bubbled and leaked out, spilling out and around her turning into a thick heavy black smoke. It bellowed out and around, encasing her. With the breath she took to scream for help she was gone from the antique store, the tome slamming shut as the smoke cleared in her absence. The only trace of Lena left was her copy of Asunder left on the counter by the book Age of Dragons.

"I rather liked her." Came Daerin's voice as he and his grandfather walked out from the back, their eyes contracting. "it's a shame we had to use her…"

"She was a nice girl. I hope she survives." Rahmi ambled up and grabbed the tome off the counter. His feet shuffling as he traveled into the basement of the antique shop. Rows upon rows of similar tomes each with their own difference but all named Age of Dragons on the spine. Rahmi didn't place the newest edition on the shelf but rather on a book stand in the center of the room.