"You're safe," I watch his lips say. "We're Grey Wardens, and we can help you."
I laughed, or maybe I cried, or maybe I did both. Muscles that haven't moved but in tight spasms in my forced prone form ache when my whole body shakes in my hysteria. "You're not real," I hear myself croak out in a voice dry, and nearly unrecognizable as my own. I haven't spoken a single word that wasn't an agonizing scream since I've been home. Since before I went to sleep in the comfort of my bed. How ever long ago that was. "None of this is real."
"The poor thing," I hear a feminine voice that is accented differently than all the others say. "She has blinded herself to reality to escape the horrors she faced here."
"No. It's a game," I look over towards the speaker, and recognize the woman standing in worn medieval leathers as a life-like apparition of one of the video game's characters. "I know who you are," I rasp. "You're Le-Leliana," her name comes out in a stutter. My tongue feels heavy and difficult to move.
I look around towards the others, hardly unbelieving that my insanity has conjured up more things from that game, and say their names when my foggy mind recognizes them for who they are. "You're Alistair," he removes his helmet and I'm even more certain of myself. "You're Morrigan. Flemeth's your ma," I cough on the dry, acrid air. "And that guy's Sten."
"Do you know who I am?" The first man asks me, but, no, I don't recognize him individually.
"You're the Warden," I laugh a dry, dry laugh that's probably more like a wheeze. "You're all in my head," I continue. "I know all your stories. Your life's stories. It's all in my head."
I watch while Leliana says something in French, but it's the wide lips of Morrigan that speak and capture my attention. "If I am not mistaken, it seems these imbecile blood mages captured themselves a seer for some unknown and probably foolish purpose."
I laugh, and it turns into sobbing. Why can't I wake up? I want to be back home. I don't want to play this game.
"I don't want to play this game," I hear myself say aloud. How much have I said aloud? "I don't want to protect them from Urthemiel. They're dead. I saw them die. They're dead. Urthemiel dies. I saw him die. The dragon dies. He always dies."
"Wait," the first man says and puts a hand on my shoulder and I look up at him with unblinking, blurry eyes. "Did you say you saw the Archdemon die?"
"Yes," I reply simply. "He always dies at the end of the game."
"Do you know how?" He asks with an urgency about him.
"Yeah," I wheeze. "With a sword in his head."
"Whose sword?"
"Yours," I lean forward. "If you were a woman, it might've been Alistair. But you're a man – you kill the dragon with a sword. In the head. And you might die. Sometimes the Warden dies in the game. It depends on the choices you make." I cough again. "Only after all the treaties though. You need an army. There's lots of darkspawn." I cough harder, "But I don't want to play this game. It's already in my head. I already know what happens. I don't want to watch it again."
"Blighted bullocks!" He curses and looks over his shoulder at his companions. "Is this even possible?"
"I've read a little on seers," I hear Alistair reply. "They know pieces of the future. They see it."
Morrigan speaks next. "Most can do little else of substance. They are little more than hedge witches."
"You all don't make sense," I mutter. I'm not a seer. I'm not a witch. "I'm a person. And I only know the future until right after the Chantry blows up cause Anders is stupid."
The Warden is silent in front of me with his blood-stained brow furrowed, and it bothers me so I lean forward and poke it. Totally random, but the sight of his brow had garnered all of my attention and wouldn't let it be. I'm far from being stable at the moment. "Which Warden are you?" I ask with my finger still against his forehead, "The Hero is always different. It depends. Lots of things can happen, but the Archdemon always dies after the treaties and everything. You always need an army."
"What do you mean 'lots of things can happen'?"
"Your decisions create the story," I explain. "Some things can't be changed, but there's always different things. Like a... like a web." I frown and repeat my original question. "Which Warden are you?"
"My name is Sloane Tabris," he says, "And do you-"
"Sloane Tabris," I repeat and interrupt him while I put my hand atop his head with a sudden and consuming eureka feeling. "You're an elf!" I exclaim, "From Denerim, and your cousins are Shianni and Soris! I remember them!"
He blinks at me and removes my hand, "You know my cousins?"
I nod, "But I've never met them like you. What is with your family and S's? My family has a lot of K's, but your family has a lot of S's."
"What is your name dear?" Leliana asks me, and she's much closer than she was before.
"Karie," I answer and twist my fingers together. My head is whirling. I don't think I'm making much sense, and I'm talking like an idiot. I'm certain I sound as smart as a pile of rocks. But I'm insane. It doesn't matter. This is all in my head.
"I think she should join us," Sloane announces. "We just took on Bodahn and Sandal, why not one more?"
"And you just killed those guys," I interject. "They hurt me. I don't know what they did, but it hurt a lot. And their blood was glowing."
"According to the experts, they were blood mages." His brow furrows again, "Would you join us in raising that army you keep talking about? We could use the help from someone who says they've already seen it happen."
"Only if you stop crinkling your face," I say and poke his brow again. "Stop that – it bothers me."
He grasps my wrist and moves it from his face, "You have yourself a deal."
A/N: Thank you to everyone that's read this and followed it in just one day of it being out! You're all the best! :D And so here's another chapter for Easter, if you celebrate it. Some chapters, for transitional reasons, I'll put the last sentence from the prior chapter at the top. And that was never my idea originally - I've seen a couple other authors do that, and thought it was a good idea. ;) Thanks again readers!
