Curse of the Warden

by Aevary Shattern

The Hero of Fereldan's greatest weakness? Mercy, too much of it. Compassionate, to a fault. Understanding? It will damn him. (Happy! I asked for H-E-L-P, not threats!)

Prologue

As we walked I could hear them, feel them, wailing and crying in pain.

The Darkspawn.

Alistair, my fellow Warden, walked a ways behind me with Morrigan, an apostate witch, and my hound, Amadeaus. Bickering as usual over some small slight. I paid them little mind. The voices had my attention with their pained cries, and plaintive sobbing.

My heart wrenched at the sounds. I wished to comfort them but was certain that it was unwise. Comforting a demon? Ha! What a fool I would be to try. My heart twisted at the sounds nonetheless.

I reached out later that night, as the others slept. Unable to listen to another in pain, no matter who or what they were, in the past or present.

And the sounds stopped. And the roaring began. The Darkspawn wanted no comfort from anyone, least of all me. A fool, is what I am, was my last coherent thought as the beast lashed out and I began to scream.

And all faded to darkness as the agony that tortured my mind and body forced me into unconsciousness.