A/N- Just as an Fyi there will be blood magic here, and slight grilling of enemies.
Edit: went on an editing spree, so most mistakes fixed.
I don't own Dragon age, just crazy elves and angsty characters.
His dreams were plagued with monsters, as always. A desire demon had caught him unaware once and shifted through his memories before he had the chance to retaliate, and the experience had left him with no desire to repeat it. As a child, you don't want some crazy, fire headed naked woman prowling through your memories. He had quickly sought out how to combat such things, and had become stronger because of it. Yet, the demons of the fade always scratched and wore away at his ever-regenerating will, looking for a way out through him. He'd long since learned to silence the screams and stop the thrashing, lest he wake with a Templar's sword to his throat. Or not wake up at all, the most probable thing with the ever impulsive, mage-hating Templars.
Opening his eyes, he saw the roof of an unfamiliar canvas tent. For a moment, he scrabbled around for a weapon, before gripping the hilt of his thin, double-sided dagger. Xavier clutched it to his chest, thoughts panicking at the unfamiliar place. Where normally, wooden bunks and stone walls would surround him, along with the white noise of the breathing of a dormitory full of apprentice mages, he was alone, surrounded by canvas. The quiet murmur of unfamiliar voices outside caught his attention, and he froze in fear, before understanding washed over him. He was in the Wardens' camp because he'd been conscripted. He tossed his dagger to the side before running his hands through his hair in agitation. He quickly strapped his boots on and tucked the dagger into his leather belt before exiting the tent. He quickly unassembled it and folded the canvas, before rolling the bedroll and fastening it as well. He snapped his staff up and spun it twice before settling it in its strap.
The sun hadn't risen by the time he was finished, so he sought solace by the roaring fire in the center of the warden's encampment. Xavier sat on an empty log with no one close by, and put his elbows on his knees, resting his head on the palms of his hands. He saw Alistair conversing with Duncan, Belson, and the other senior Grey Wardens. He averted his eyes to the warm flickering flames, letting them close sleepily. He stretched his awareness, feeling for the entire camp. Most were still asleep, for it was an over an hour before sunrise, and the soldiers sought all the rest they could before battle.
Xavier thought it over, and decided he didn't mind awaiting battle. He didn't mind the palpable tension people got before they faced something deadly. The slight fear on their faces when they spoke of the darkspawn. After years of nothingness in the tower, he was finally out and 'properly' learned in magic. With his two parallel educations, even the death and destruction that waited in battle was better than the tower, in his opinion.
In the surrounding tents were his new comrades, and he reached out and checked their health, out of habit from the tower. He didn't know how to heal well, but he knew how to sense ailments. There was a weird nagging sense of death lingering over the elf with the white-blonde hair that he'd seen last night, that he had overheard Artemis call Theo. He frowned, so distracted with the new type of deathly illness that he didn't realize Alistair had approached until the light from the fire was blocked from his eyelids. Xavier wearily dragged himself back together from his spread out and observing state, and cracked an eye open. The ex-Templar had merely paused, and now sat on a log besides the mage. Xavier looked back to the fire before closing his eyes again. Alistair cleared his throat awkwardly, scratching at something under his armor, making it jingle annoyingly. After that, there was a short minute of silence, before the Templar started tapping his foot on the ground. Xavier's brow furrowed, and he gave up trying to ignore the ex-Templar.
"Did you come over here for something specific?" Xavier asked. "Or did you just feel like sitting by the lone mage instead of your friends?" Alistair resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the elf's tone.
"Well, I wanted to ask..." Xavier opened one eye to see him fidgeting with a round golden piece. "How did you know I was a Templar? I mean… are a Templar." he said nervously, "I was curious, because nobody except...Duncan knows."
"Your excess mana. The type of energy reserved for templar-ish attacks, feels different than arcane-used mana." Xavier unfurled and stretched. "You're obviously not a mage or an abomination, so you must have been a Templar. Ta-da. Xavier logic." He finished with a flick of the fingers. Alistair blinked blandly at the elf, disbelieving.
"You can tell... mana apart? I didn't know that was possible." It shouldn't be, he added in his head, and Alistair looked at the elf more closely before frowning slightly under the elf's light eyes. "Didn't you sleep? The circles under your eyes are huge." Xavier gave the blonde a slight glare, before scratching his neck and squinting at the sky, the sunrise making the sky a myriad of colors.
"I did sleep." He finally said. Alistair's look was incredulous, but was ignored. "Where's the food? I'm hungry." Xavier changed the subject as Rowan and Farrent both exited their tents. Xavier walked off in search of sustenance as the warriors walked to Alistair, the mage waving quickly at the two.
"That the mage? Where's 'e goin'?" Farrent asked, and looked into the direction the mage had disappeared to. Alistair shrugged noncommittally.
"He said something about food before he left, so he'll probably be looking for the cook's tent." Alistair pocketed a thin gold piece, and Rowan sat heavily in the spot Xavier had just vacated.
"I know you don't like mages, but you could seriously try to hide it better." Rowan yawned, and Alistair punched him in the arm. Rowan shrugged it off.
"You know that's not it. I don't hate mages, it's just that-" He stopped, trailing off as the others looked away as well. Silje was stretching, her butt up in the air as she stretched her legs. Alistair's cheeks were dusted light pink, before he stormed off to chase away a couple of staring soldiers from the naïve mage. And Daveth, the leering ass. Rowan laughed at the Templar's antics, before going off for food as well. Farrent stayed long enough to wave at Artemis as she emerged from her tent as the sun finally peaked above the horizon line far enough to be seen, then hurried off to eat as well.
The large group of warden recruits, plus Alistair, entered the Korcari wilds when the sun was above the horizon and the sky was fully blue, unperturbed by clouds. Xavier had allowed himself to be pushed to the back of the group, along with Isiah, Daveth and Silje, who could all be long-range fighters. At the front, Alistair and Rowan led, both sporting shields and longswords, flanked by Farrent who was carrying his double-sided sword, and Artemis who was whistling while twirling her wicked-looking elven short sword, her longsword happily strapped to her back. Ser Jory-a knight from Redcliffe, wielding a semi-rusted greatsword, and Theo-the sickly-looking elf covering the mages for close combat, though Xavier had repeatedly said it was unnecessary, he was ignored by Alistair.
Silje, on his right, was busy collecting herbs and searching for a wild flower for the kennel master, and concentrating so hard on the landscape that Xavier couldn't start a conversation with her, she was so absorbed in her task. Xavier looked to his left, to see Theo coughing into his hand again, before grimacing as he wiped it on his cloth pants and glancing up to see Xavier's scrutiny. The Dalish elf stared back, challengingly, though Xavier didn't look away, instead regarding him blankly. Coughing like that wasn't something natural that would be ignored, but the mage filed it away for later. Theo finally glanced away. Xavier turned his attention back forward, before raising his voice. A struggling man was trying to stand, the only one alive from the group of corpses strewn around.
"There's a live one." His statement was met with confusion, but as Silje broke formation and ran to the injured man, realization struck. The others hurried to help, but Silje ignored them. The soldier struggled to lift his head, instead falling back onto his stomach with a grunt, heaving dry air. Silje murmured calming words to him to make him still, and placed glowing hands over the injured areas. Silje stopped the immediate bleeding, and Alistair offered his bandages, the female mage quickly taking them and wrapping the chest wound tightly, before tying it off. The man was babbling about how his entire group had been annihilated by the darkspawn that had come from deeper inside the wilds. His skin was deathly pale, from loss of blood, and his eyes were bloodshot.
"We should take him back to camp." Silje looked to Xavier for assistance, who stood some feet away. The soldier took an offered poultice, and shook his head at the offer.
"I'll be fine. Now, at least, I can make it back on my own." The soldier limped away quickly, and Ser Jory turned to Rowan.
"You heard the man. An entire platoon of soldiers was destroyed by those things! I think this is too risky. Why are going through the trouble for this ritual anyway?"
"These soldiers didn't have a Grey Warden with them, and were probably ambushed." Alistair reasoned, "I can sense the Darkspawn, so they won't be able to come upon us in surprise." Alistair tried to calm the knight down, but failed considerably, especially when Daveth added in his two pieces.
"See, Ser knight? At least we'll get a warning before we're all gruesomely killed or disemboweled. Doesn't that make you feel better?" Ser Jory was not amused, glaring at the cutpurse. Xavier glanced in farther to the wilds, squinting. Alistair didn't comment.
"I'd rather we get moving sooner than later, you two, if you're finished arguing. You want to be Grey Wardens, so suck it up, and let's gather some darkspawn blood." Farrent growled at them, agitated, before Xavier walked off, ahead of the group.
"Hey! Don't break formation! You'll be killed before you even know they're there!" Alistair yelled after the mage, but made no hurry to follow. The elf merely shot a disdainful look back at Alistair over his shoulder, before continuing. The group moved again, Xavier slightly farther ahead, with Farrent close behind, and the rest in a loose resemblance of the former formation. They walked for a time before the rustling of far-off dry branches and breaking of underbrush was heard.
"Wolves!" Theo shouted, the wolf pack bursting from the underbrush from either side, before he and Isiah let loose a barrage of arrows on the pack. Xavier ducked from a wolf that aimed at his jugular, slashing his dagger into the underside of another that jumped at him from behind. The first he disposed of using lightning, before slitting the dazed wolf's throat. On impulse, he used chain lightning, finishing off the rest in one shot, before stopping and grimacing at the blood on his dagger, bending down to wipe it on the dry grass.
Farrent whistled, even as Alistair gaped at the carnage surrounding the elf. The pack of wolves had been annihilated before he could lift his sword twice. Artemis looked irritated, and reluctantly sheathed her swords, but still on guard, as though hoping that more wolves would appear to give her another chance to fight. Silje looked shocked, and stared at the blood covering the ground. The arrows protruding from the vital points of their targets were collected calmly by Isiah and Daveth, Theo resting upon a large boulder on the side of the path, out of breath.
"Is everyone alright?" Xavier looked over the group, the unanimous nods reassuring the redhead. Alistair merely grunted in annoyance. "Great. Cause we've got some blood to collect."
As the group later encountered darkspawn stragglers, they gathered vials of blood, until Alistair finally announced they had enough, allowing them to temporarily rest in an abandoned camp, deep within the wilds. Daveth sighed dramatically, throwing his arms over Theo and Artemis' shoulders. Both elves looked ready to hit him. "I'm beat. Who knew fighting the terrible rejects of nature could be so energy consuming?" Rowan rolled his eyes at the cutpurse before taking in the rest of the group.
Alistair was tired, but none the worse for wear, thanks to Silje, who healed everyone as they went along, while also staying out of the way and safe, at Xavier's command. Theo had slowly been getting worse, his face ashen behind his natural Dalish hunter tan, his lightly colored hair even seeming lifeless. Farrent was arguing with Ser Jory, his axe perched on his shoulder, his armor dented and his tattooed cheekbone bruised, but fine. Rowan finally looked at the mage sitting beside him, leaning his weight onto his staff. The redhead was scratched and bruised, but kept turning Silje away. To have her tend to the more injured members of the party, like when Alistair had had his shield arm's wrist broken from blocking an emissary and a hurlock grunt at the same time, or like the time Daveth had caught fire and had to have his minor burns treated so they could continue on. Xavier's robes were torn and bloody, though how much of it was his was unclear. His small dagger resting on his hip as he asked Isiah about her training and accuracy with a bow. Rowan himself was protected mostly by armor, escaping serious damage, though several arrows had tested the durability of the set. And Silje had had to reknit the skin of his left arm after an arrow tipped with poison had pierced the chain link there, and then fought the poison. Rowan felt for the failed chain pieces, and decided that the armor wasn't worth repairing.
Xavier turned to Rowan, who was brooding over the thought of new armor. "We still need to pick up the ancient treaties Duncan wanted. Does Alistair still have the map?" Rowan blinked, before nodding. The elf closed his eyes briefly in agitation before walking to the splint mail-clad man. Rowan frowned before motioning to Silje, and the mage quickly crossed from where she sat near Artemis and Theo.
"Xavier has a limp. It's very subtle, but he's hiding a more serious injury." Rowan pointed out. Silje nodded, but shrugged, looking downcast.
"He won't let me heal him. We'll either have to wait until he's hurt badly enough he can't escape treatment, or practically hold him down." She glared at the elf's back. "He won't let me near him, saying 'Save your mana.' or, 'It's just a scratch.'" she mocked, using a low and nasally voice that didn't sound anything like the mage but was funny nonetheless, "It's infuriating." Rowan nodded, noting that Xavier had a lot of 'scratches' that the poultices weren't fully healing.
Alistair looked up to see Xavier crossing towards him. The elf looked like hell, though it was mostly mud. Xavier leaned on his staff, and Alistair waited for him to speak first. "Rowan said you have the map. I want to see it." Alistair reached inside his armor, handing the elf the crushed old scroll of paper. Xavier frowned, squinting. "This is totally worthless." Xavier deadpanned. Alistair squawked.
"Duncan gave us that map, so it has to be helpful!" Alistair protested, standing.
"Oh, I'm sure it was helpful when Duncan gave it to us, but you've smeared whatever seeped inside your armor all over it." The frustrated elf threw the map at Alistair, who caught it and smiled sheepishly.
"It's just a little blood, nothing a little magic couldn't solve?" Alistair looked hopefully in to the two mages. Xavier rubbed the bridge of his nose, and Rowan shook his head, the others stifling giggles and smirks.
"The mage-aphobic chantry boy asks for blood manipulation, and so he shall receive." Xavier smiled cruelly, before snapping up the map from the ex-Templar. Alistair looked stricken, and even Silje looked pale. Xavier glanced up with a wry grin. "Just kidding. Really, you people have no faith in mages, do you?" Alistair glared at the elf, who just laughed it off. "But really, this map is worthless." He gave Alistair a look.
"So then what do we do?" Artemis asked, glaring at Alistair. The others looked to him as well, and Xavier looked up, his eyes mocking the Templar. Alistair looked around, the expectant stares making him sweat.
"Why are you all looking at me like that?" Alistair asked, looking at Rowan. "I don't know what to do!" He insisted.
"I suggest we follow the map, just go in the general direction we were heading in." Theo added, then broke into a coughing fit.
"I agree with the elf." Ser Jory said gruffly, and the group started on again, Rowan teasing Alistair about his leadership skills.
Xavier followed close behind Theo, who was almost unnoticeably lagging behind the rest of the main group, a good few paces behind. Xavier said nothing, even as the Dalish elf gave him a curious look. They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds being the jingle of armor and the soft thuds of feet on swamp-soaked earth. Alistair shouted a warning only a couple seconds before the darkspawn burst from the ground, a group of genlocks and a hurlock blocking Xavier and Theo from the main group. Xavier couldn't see how the others were doing, but there were a lot of enemies on their side as well, the supporting archers being far away on hills. The templar had even said that he'd be able to warn them about an ambush, but the threat was the same.
Xavier cursed as he dodged the sword of a hurlock, only to jump into the way of a genlock's pair of daggers. He barely managed to avoid getting his spine severed by kicking back at the genlock, then twisting his staff around and hearing a satisfying crack. He hissed as the shallow cuts from the daggers made themselves known, but ignored it in favor of frying the near group of darkspawn until they were nothing more than a bubbling mass of flesh and bones. He turned to try and help Theo, only to be bashed in the ribcage by a genlock with a mace that unearthed itself from the filthy ground. The hurlock assaulting Theo was disposed of with a crack and a gurgle, before Xavier heard a grunted elven curse. Xavier kicked out at the genlock with the mace, knocking it over before he smashed the butt of his staff through it's skull. He felt the abused metal of the staff protest, starting to bend, but ignored it. He clutched his abdomen and fired lightning at the hurlock about to stab Theo in the gut, making it hesitate with electrocution as he used his staff to knock the sword away, before sending the sharp end of his staff through the hurlock's abdomen and using more lightning to fry it from the inside, jerking it back as he kicked the creature off his weapon.
The other group was fine, regrouping after being separated to take care of long-range enemies, with little injuries. Xavier dropped his staff to kneel beside Theo, who lay barely breathing on his back, his face taking on a deathly pallor. "Theo. Theo!" Xavier shook the other elf, who strained to open his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot, the veins taking on a blackened shade. "The taint? How long have you had it?" He demanded. The Dalish elf shrugged.
"A few weeks. I don't...really know." The elf's eyes closed again in pain, and Xavier grunted in acknowledgement as he heard the others running up to them. Xavier turned to Silje, and gave her a serious look, only made more intense by the blood staining his face and body, and the dark circles under his eyes.
"Watch my body for me." Silje nodded hesitantly, moving to his side and taking Theo's hand. Her eyes showed slight confusion, but more than anything else, trust. Xavier nodded, and reached to the wound on his back, pulling his hand back with fresh blood, before quickly writing in foreign script on Theo's forehead. He wiped his hands together as the others caught up, before resting his hand on Theo's chest, above the elf's heart. He barely heard Alistair's accusing questions as he plunged soul-first into the fade to find the source of the taint.
The first thing Alistair had expected to see when returning back to the two elves was Xavier standing over a mountain of fresh darkspawn corpses, Theo standing beside him. When he saw the fried corpses, he was oddly reassured. He saw Xavier drawing with blood on a nearly dead Theo's forehead, before Xavier himself toppled limply sideways e rushed to the healer's side, his Templar instincts kicking in at the sign of blood ma. Silje was already busy, telling Artemis to hold Theo's hand, and making Rowan prop up the prone form of Xavier as she tore off the top piece to his robes, using the elf's own dagger to cut the chest area of the shirt off, leaving the tattered sleeves on to save time. Alistair understood better when the gash across the elf's back was exposed, bleeding steadily. He stood nearby, agitated he could do nothing, with Ser Jory, who looked uncomfortable with all the blood.
"Why are you so jumpy, Ser Jory?" Alistair asked, eager to get his mind off of the blatant blood magic.
"Killing those creatures is different. They are heartless, driven by instinct to kill everything. But seeing one of our own bleeding out like that...it's an unpleasant reminder of what they're capable of." Jory turned away, volunteering to keep watch. Daveth announced he was going to collect firewood, but Alistair was entranced by the mage's steady hands as she worked the two injured elves away from death's grasp. Silje was pushing her limits, almost out of mana and still working on the seeping gash. Alistair squinted at the descending sun, cursing their luck. There had been more darkspawn than Duncan himself knew of, hiding in the wilds. And they were without the map, which had hopefully led them deeper into the wilds, presumably closer to the ancient treaties, instead of in them going in circles all day long, and getting who-knew how far away from the king's army.
Rowan had laid Xavier down on his stomach, on a blanket from his own pack. Theo was moved to the same blanket, with Artemis still beside him, and Silje now poured poultices straight into their many cuts. She hesitated before applying the poultice to Xavier's back, even though it had healed enough to no longer bleed. Alistair watched over her shoulder as the skin knit back together, leaving nothing but a dark red line of new skin. Rowan assisted her by holding the skin together, his brow furrowed in concentration, from the effort of being gentle, as opposed to slashing and cutting and destroying. Isiah and Farrent looked on; the larger male dwarf's face cold and blank. Isiah pulled bandages from her pack, and Silje took them numbly, patting Xavier's sides before frowning and repeating the process. She wrapped nearly his entire torso, with padding on his back wound to prevent the new scar tissue from reopening. The intense bruising left on his side was darkening further, no doubt a few broken ribs, Silje had said. Isiah met Daveth as he returned with his arms full of dry wood. The two worked to create a fire, building it as close to the injured party members as they safely could. Alistair could hardly remember being told to set up blankets for people to sleep on. They ate jerky around the fire, Silje sitting beside the prone figures of the elves, and the somber faces of the rest of his comrades as they conversed quietly or stared into the flames (Farrent).
They went to sleep, dozing off in a circle around the fire. Alistair volunteered to take watch, and he sat by the injured elves, watching for signs of awareness in either of them. There was none. The ex-Templar looked at Silje's sleeping face carefully, tracing the lines of her distressed face with his eyes. Her eyebrows were still furrowed, her forehead scrunched. She had moved her bedroll right next to Xavier and Theo, who were both covered by another blanket, seeing as they couldn't be aware enough to shift and preserve their own body heat as the temperature fell.
Rowan kept watch on the other side of the fire, sitting in a meditative position near the slumbering dwarf and the cutpurse. Alistair stood, his splintmail jostling as he moved to where the other warrior was resting. Rowan turned as Alistair sat beside him.
"I specifically said I would be able to keep us from getting ambushed, and I failed." Alistair sat next to him, "I don't understand how I didn't sense such a large group." The ex-Templar pulled out his runic worry piece, needing something to do. He gave Rowan a sideways glance. "They could both die from this attack." He didn't say it, but the unspoken words 'because of me' rang loudly in Alistair's mind.
"But they won't." Rowan assured him. "Xavier must know what he's doing, or he wouldn't have attempted it, especially with you here. And Silje knows how to fix people. They will both do their parts, and everyone will live through this. Then we'll do this Joining ritual, and become Grey Wardens." Alistair looked away, afraid of showing his friend the sad truth. The fact that it wasn't guaranteed that they would all live through the Joining.
Xavier sat up slowly, ignoring the pounding in his head as he examined the part of the fade-place he had landed in. This part was supposed to reflect Theo's soul, and become like a physical thing so that Xavier could stop the spread of and contain the darkspawn's taint.
All he could see was trees. More trees, and finally, some more trees. Xavier looked down, confirming that he was still an elf, not some woodland creature. He willed his clothing into being, noticing with indignation that he was, in fact, au naturale, or nude. He willed a tunic, with pants tucked into tall boots into being, before making his way deeper into the forest.
The trees weren't natural, though the area Xavier had started in had looked normal. The trees got taller and taller, until the tops were no longer visible, and long beams of sunlight were the only thing to light the mage's path. Where the trees started to turn beautiful, with golden and silver hues, shining prettily even in the lack of sunlight. Xavier rested a hand on the trunk of a golden tree, and felt warmth radiate through him, even in the dark. He snatched his hand back, suspicious, before resting it on a silver tree, having the same result. The redhead relaxed, seeing the effect was most likely a natural effect of the forest. Pausing as he stared at a faraway point of light, he almost willed a weapon into being. The light seemed to bounce, going from tree to tree before finally stopping on the golden tree Xavier had paused by. The light condensed, taking on the form of a small white bird. Xavier stared at it, and its small beady glowing eyes watched him as well. He cocked his head to the side, and the bird did the same. Xavier wiggled his fingers at it, pulling them back as the little thing tried to peck at them. He tried to poke it, and had the same result. He decided that ignoring it would probably be the most productive thing to do. He turned from it and continued into the forest, in the direction the bird had come from, hoping that he would find a source that the bird had come from.
Rather than a source, the farther he went towards the bird's original direction, the more he felt hopeless; the trees getting closer and closer together until he was literally pushing and tearing branches apart and climbing over thick fallen twigs from the dead trees around him. Their trunks were grey and rotting, shriveled and gnarled, death seeming to seep from their cores. The single point of light came from the bird that had settled on his shoulder, tiny claws sinking into his tunic and scratching him. Xavier cursed as he finally tripped and fell onto his chest. His eyes protested from the sharp change in light, and he blinked rapidly, feeling the bird fly away, the tiny claws gone. When he opened his eyes again, there was a hand offering to help him up.
Theo smiled widely, and Xavier took the Dalish elf's hand, being pulled to his feet quickly. The blonde elf was different, Xavier decided, and it only took him a moment to notice why. Theo's face was tanned and vibrant again, in sharp contrast to the deadened clearing they were in, as well as he wasn't thin and sickly, the muscles visible from around his Dalish leather armor looking as though he was energized, like he had just come back from a successful hunt. "I am glad to see you, lethallin. I am happy to spend my last moments with one of your caliber. The proud can never find this place, as you often have to stumble and fall to understand truth." Xavier blinked in confusion, the frowned. Theo's happy demeanor vanished with the frown.
"I will not let you die." Xavier promised, turning from the older elf, scanning the clearing. "Not like this." There was nothing largely noticeable, just the Dalish elf. Xavier backed away from him. "Why are you suddenly here? There is usually a representative of a person's soul, instead of the actual person."
Theo frowned. "Why would there be some odd creature when I'm the one who knows myself best?" The elf stated. "'I am my own enemy'. I know my weaknesses, and I know my strengths, so I have overcome my subconscious, becoming my own keeper." The Dalish elf said it as one would declare their own death sentence. Xavier shook his head in amazement.
"Remind me later to ask how you did that. We have to find the source of your darkspawn taint." The mage took Theo's surprised face in his hands, his thumb nails digging into the Dalish elf's cheekbones until two small pricks of blood appeared on his face. Xavier smeared the blood onto the elf's cheeks horizontally, using a nail to cut open the palm of his hand. Xavier let the blood drip onto the blackened and dying ground, until a small visible spot appeared. The blood started to smoke, before it sparked, and like a snake, a line of blood-like fire shot away from the two. Xavier took off after the snake, Theo following him at a slower and unconcerned pace. Xavier pushed on, following closely on the Fyreblud snake's trail, as it burned its way through the underbrush, clearing a path as the brush and branches receded from it, burned. Theo slowly fell behind, until Xavier couldn't hear him anymore. The snake stopped, it's 'head' rearing up, before sinking into a tree, lighting up the trunk from the inside.
Xavier stopped running in awe. The tree was enormous, wider than Xavier could see from so close. The trunk was blackened, as if charred from fire and ashes, the branches barren of leaves, the leaves now fallen and crunching beneath the mage's boots as he walked around it, the eerie light of a torch burning from inside the tree. Xavier stopped, taking a deep breath of the air, filled with decay as it was. He placed his hands on the blackened tree, and concentrated.
He heard Theo approach, out of breath. The Dalish elf was asking him questions. 'how did he run so fast?' 'what was he doing?', and the most important, 'why was he trying so hard to save a dead man?'. Xavier exhaled sharply, but was relieved to see the tree responding. The tar-colored dying pieces of the tree were regenerating as the taint all made its way through the 'veins' of the tree and toward Xavier's hands. The pain in his hands grew as the dark poison grew more concentrated, the veins in his hands turning black as the taint tried to take a place in Xavier as well. The elven mage grunted in pain as he pushed the taint back into place beneath his fingers. He removed one hand to conjure enchantment-engraved Silverite needle pegs, sending them into place around the black handprint left on the tree. He did the same with the other hand, and fell back on his knees to see the two black inky handprints framed by silver pegs, the darkspawn taint unable to change forms and spread beyond the enchanted Silverite, having no choice but to stay in place and smoke in defiance, the tar-black smoke curling high into the canopy of green leaves above.
Theo sagged, his forehead touching the now alive brown bark of the tree. He turned his head to the mage, his eyes watering from relief. "I didn't even realize I was in so much pain until it was gone. I was so sure that I was going to die." Theo looked at the forest around them. "But it's not dead anymore!" The elf stood with his head tilted to the sky, smiling as the visible sun emerged from the beyond green leaves and warmed his face. His elation was contagious, and Xavier laughed quietly, before standing and approaching the Dalish elf.
"I have to leave now. I'm not sure how much longer I can hang on here safely. Please, though, don't question your own worth so much. Everyone needs help now and then, so..." Xavier held out his hand. "Don't hesitate to ask." Theo sobered, but his smile stayed in place. He took Xavier's hand, and pulled the mage into a bear hug.
"Ma Serannas, Lethallin." Xavier tentatively returned the embrace, before smiling and retreating as he felt the sudden pull of consciousness. The mage's 'body' disintegrated into multicolored fall leaves, scattering to the calm breeze. The Dalish hunter sat at the foot of his heart tree, using his dagger to carve a word into the trunk of the tree. "Da'reth."
Xavier was suddenly acutely aware. Pain. He hissed as he felt it nearly everywhere. His back burned, his hands felt as though they had been thrust inside a barrel full of pins, his face was on a hard surface, and his ribs ached from lying such a long time on his stomach. He heard a loud curse from Farrent nearby, as he pushed his hands beneath him, levering himself up to his elbows. It was still before dawn, if the setting moon was anything to gauge time by. He glanced to the side to where Theo laid, his skin no longer pale and deathly looking, but recovering, some of the color returning to his cheeks.
Xavier sighed heavily in pain and relief, the healed gashes on his back sending needles of pain in alert to his brain. The mage pulled himself to his knees, feeling all of the injuries inflicted the previous day. He looked over his shoulder, seeing Farrent watching him in shock. Xavier sent him a smile, and the dwarf blinked, then kicked a lump beside him. Alistair groaned before sitting up, his hair looking as though it had been thoroughly licked by cats, the hair sticking in every direction. Xavier ignored the spluttering ex-Templar as he patted his tight bandaging, grimacing at the broken ribs. He lifted a leg from beneath the blanket, reaching under his robe and finding Silje's handiwork on his ankle as well, the cut closed by healing magic. He was still covered in blood, dirty, and in pain, but Xavier felt happy. He reached for the abandoned roll of bandages, wrapping his hand, but leaving his fingers open. He tore the bandage with his teeth before tying it off and doing the same with the other, taking care to avoid the cut in the middle of his palm from his dream-like experience. These things weren't supposed to seep over, but sometimes it was unavoidable.
He was aware of the stares trained on him, but blatantly ignored them, waiting for someone else to start the conversation. Xavier pulled on his boots, before tying his sleeves with scraps of his bloody shirt so they stayed covering up his biceps, before Farrent finally said something, snapping at the ex-templar before stomping over to the elven mage. Silje rolled over in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent before pulling her blanket tighter.
"What do you think you're doing?" Farrent hissed at him. Xavier gave him an annoyed look.
"Getting up. That's what it looks like, isn't it?" Xavier grunted as he stood up, before fumbling about in the dim light of the sunrise for his pack. Farrent picked up the mage's dagger, throwing it at the elf's feet, making him jump and curse in surprise.
"Do you have any idea how worried you made everyone else?" The dwarf asked, glancing around at the waking camp. Rowan, Artemis, Isiah, and Daveth were waking on one side of the smoldering fire, Rowan was replacing his armor, Artemis was hitting Daveth to remove the human, after he had 'accidentally' moved too close to the warrior elf, even as Isiah laughed at their antics. Xavier glanced over his shoulder at the still sleeping mage before shaking his head at the dwarf.
"I had to do it, and I couldn't waste time telling you all the details." Xavier said with exasperation, as Alistair returned with Jory after they had roused the camp. Alistair fixed Xavier with a look he couldn't decipher, so the mage stared back. A battle of wills ensued, and the entire camp, minus the still sleeping Silje, watched as the Templar and mage both refused to blink. Alistair twitched, his eyes watering, while Xavier watched his efforts with a small smirk. Silje rolled out of her blanket and cursed, and Alistair finally blinked, his eyes watering terribly as he cursed and pouted, as Xavier strapped his pack onto his leg, full-out smiling with the rest of the laughing camp.
Alistair recovered, and as Theo woke, he was mobbed by Artemis and Isiah, both females fawning over him and making him feel like a child being reprimanded by his clan-mates for not telling them how sick he was. "I'm fine now though, and we still need to recover Duncan's treaties." He finally insisted.
"The Grey Warden's treaties." Alistair corrected, but stood to leave as well. They departed their campsite, after scattering firewood about and making it look less lived-in, with Rowan, Alistair and Jory leading, with Xavier and Theo made to stand in the center. Despite the mage's protests, that were silenced by a severe look from Silje. They easily dispatched the rest of the darkspawn stragglers on their way, Theo's accuracy with his bow making Xavier immensely proud of the elf he'd saved, to be improving so rapidly from the taint. The ruins of the Grey Wardens' building were mostly sunken into the swamp, but after sifting through all of the overgrown weeds and underbrush, Isiah found the chest. They all waited while she sifted through the rubble of the broken chest, the grey warden insignia broken and barely visible after being worn away. Isiah looked back to the others before shaking her head.
"They're gone. There is nothing left but the skeleton of the chest." she confirmed. Farrent kicked the chest rubble, sending a piece flying into the swampy area with a sploosh.
"Well, well. What have we here?" A wild looking woman descended from the upper level of the ruins slowly, like a cat stalking her prey. She wore feathers on her clothing, resembling a raven, her leathers speaking of a more uncivilized upbringing. "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger, poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned?" She looked upon the group with disdain, before continuing. "Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn-filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?" Xavier noted with amusement that the woman's eyes were like the yellow of a wildcat. "What say you, hmm? Scavenger or Intruder?"
"Neither. The Grey wardens own this tower." Rowan took the diplomatic approach. The wild woman was not satisfied, however.
"'Tis a tower no longer. The wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse." she motioned to the ruins with a hand. "I have watched your progress for some time now. Where do they go? Why are they here?" The woman walked to the other side of the rubble, speaking as she went. "And now, you disturb ashes none touched for so long. Why is that?" She seemed curious, even though her stalling tactics were obvious.
"Great. She's stalking us now." Farrent muttered.
"Don't answer her. She looks Chasind. And that means others may be nearby." Alistair's whisper was heard by the wild woman, who smiled.
"Fear barbarians with swoop down upon you?" She mocked.
Alistair wasn't amused. "Yes... swooping is bad." He looked as though seriously contemplating the prospect of it.
Daveth had slowly slunk to the back of the group. "She's a witch of the wilds, she is. She'll turn us into toads." he whined. Xavier and Silje both shared a look of exasperation, even as Xavier shifted so that he was in between Alistair and the witch, lest the Templar get any bright ideas, like holy Smiting a witch whose power was unknown.
"Witch of the wilds? Such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own?" She looked to Rowan, who stared back at her impassively. "You there, handsome lad. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine. Let us be civilized."
Rowan glanced at Xavier, who kept his eyes trained on the witch. "You may call me Rowan."
"And you may call me Morrigan." She crossed her arms over her scantily-clad chest. "Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest, something that is here no longer?"
Alistair decided to be smart again. "Here no longer? You stole them, didn't you? You're some kind of-" He struggled with words. "Sneaky witch-thief!"
"How very eloquent." She snarked before continuing, "How does one steal from dead men?" Her disdainful look had returned, aimed full-force at Alistair now.
"Very easily, it seems." Farrent grumbled.
"Those documents were Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them." Alistair said in his business voice. Xavier put two fingers on the bridge of his nose.
"I will not, for 'twas not I that removed them." Xavier slid his hand down his face in exasperation, tiring of the hateful banter.
"So your mother has them?" He asked, catching the witch by surprise. "Can you take us to her? I would like to leave these wilds soon as possible."
"That is a correct assumption and a sensible request. I think I like you, elf." The woman covered her surprise smoothly, trying to gain the upper hand again.
"I'd be careful if I were you. First it's 'I like you' then its 'zap!' frog-time." Alistair contributed his expansive knowledge again.
"If you had learned anything worthwhile in your training, you should know that it's terribly difficult to turn someone else into something else. Especially on a whim." Silje muttered.
"But she'll put us in the pot, she will!" Daveth whined. Artemis kicked him in the back of the knee.
"If the pots warmer than this forest, it will be a nice change." Jory said.
"Follow me then, if it pleases you." Morrigan turned the way she came, giving them no choice but to follow. They followed the witch back to a small hut in a more soaked area of the swamp. Xavier scrutinized the old wizened witch Morrigan introduced as her mother. "Mother, I bring before you grey wardens who-"
"I see them, girl. Hn. Much as I expected." The old frail-looking woman spoke.
"Are we to believe you were...expecting us?" Artemis asked, her green eyes skeptical. The woman smiled.
"You are required to do nothing. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide, either way one's a fool." The woman's eyes sparked with memories, and Xavier made eye contact with the witch. In a split second, something passed in her eyes, making the elven mage resist the urge to step back. Or run.
"She's a witch I tell you. We shouldn't be talking to her." Daveth whined again. Artemis kicked him in the groin, the man falling to his knees in pain.
"Daveth, if she's really a witch, do you want to anger her?" Theo remarked, watching the man in pain. "And she's most obviously a witch if Morrigan is her daughter." Theo looked to Silje, who nodded.
"Magic is a strong hereditary trait." She confirmed. The woman only smiled serenely, the wicked gleam still there, but only seemingly noticed by Xavier.
"Smart lad. Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but nice, nonetheless."
"I apologize, M'lady, but we require your assistance finding some documents your daughter informed us you keep." Xavier interrupted what was sure to be the makings of a long irrelevant conversation.
"Such manners! always in the last place you look. Like stockings." Xavier grimaced at the woman's stab at humor. She watched him in amusement, before returning to her facade of the elderly deranged woman. "You are here for your treaties, yes?" She returned a moment later, scrolls in hand. "And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these." She handed the bundle of scrolls to Xavier, who passed them to Rowan, giving Alistair a dirty look the Templar ignored.
"We appreciate your kindness." Rowan said, tucking them away.
"Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight is greater than they realize." The woman spoke ominously.
Silje frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Either the threat is more, or they realize less. Or perhaps the threat is nothing." She laughed. "Or perhaps they realize nothing. Do not mind me. You have what you came for." She waved them off.
Morrigan almost smiled, Xavier could tell she enjoyed sending them off. "Time for you to go, then."
"Do not be ridiculous, girl. These are your guests." Xavier could hear the dark-haired witch grinding her teeth in agitation, before she forced out a civil tone.
"Oh, very well. I will show you out of the woods. Follow me." She wearily, leading them in the direction they came.
As the gates to the Wilds swung shut behind them, Alistair wanted more than to collapse in relief. But he didn't, instead going with the large group to where Duncan waited for them, looking anxious and irritated. The elder warden's face instantly cleared as he caught sight of them, his relief quickly turning serious. Rowan's hound, Edel, perked up and ran to her master, knocking the warrior over as he laughed, his face cleaned thoroughly by the mabari's tongue. Silje handed Duncan the vials of darkspawn blood, carrying them because she was the least likely to have smashed them during combat. Alistair glanced at the group. They were dirty and tired, but all healthy, since Silje had healed everyone, especially the elven mage, on their way back from Morrigan and her mother's hut.
Duncan took the blood, and inspected the vials, before a mage came and took the blood from Duncan. The oldest Grey Warden led them to an abandoned area, away from the rest of the camp, where Xavier had met Alistair for the first time. The circle mage returned shortly after with a large ceremonial goblet that didn't look naturally possible to drink from, presenting it to Duncan before she scurried off again.
"Let us begin the ritual then."
"Alistair will now say the words that have been spoken since the first." Alistair took a deep breath before speaking.
"Join us brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."
Duncan nodded, "Isiah, step forward." the dwarf stepped forth and drank, her eyes rolling back into her head as she spasmed and fell to the ground, unconscious, but alive. Xavier watched on silently with a feeling of dread creeping up on him as Farrent and Artemis did the same. Daveth drank the blood, before falling, dead before he hit the ground. Jory looked chilled with horror. Duncan approached him next with the goblet, and Jory took out his sword, babbling about his wife and unborn child. Silje looked moved to tears, and Xavier put a restraining hand on her shoulder as Duncan ran the refusing knight of Redcliffe through with his dagger. Ser Jory's eyelids sagged, and he fell, dead.
Silje drank next, tears falling from her eyes even as she swallowed. Xavier caught her before she fell, confirming her alive to the others. Theo drank quickly, knowing the pain of the taint, while also knowing that the only available cure possible could kill him. Xavier breathed a sigh of relief as he was confirmed to be alive.
Rowan took the goblet dubiously, looking suspiciously at Duncan, who stared impassively back. Rowan drank quickly, but seemed to choke even before it went down his throat. He started showing signs of rejecting the taint, and Xavier saw the life starting to drain from his eyes. Xavier used his canines to nick the freshly healed top of his hand, coating his hand in the fresh blood before tearing the goblet away from Duncan, downing the last of the vile substance before slapping his bloody hands onto Rowan, one on his heart, through his armor, and one on his forehead even as he began to see spots and flickers of a dragon. Xavier grit his teeth as he forced his way into the fade by force. Again.
Alistair and Duncan watched with separate emotions. Horror and disbelief.
Xavier tore his way through the fade with fervor, the usual weaker demons and shades he saw lurking about the place now shying away into the recesses of the place, away from his rampage. What he'd done was merely stall the taint in Rowan, but it was nowhere near permanent, only as long as he could stand to be 'conscious'. The Mage was again in his fade-walking outfit, and he paused, staring off to a separate island, where a castle-type structure, fade warped, stood. The Fyreblud snake had stopped at the edge of the area he was on, hissing at the far-off structure. Xavier's mind twisted with the taint, but he shook it off, forcing himself forward, because even if he couldn't reach Rowan in time, he wouldn't allow himself to die as well. He still had things to avenge, although he was sure Rowan did as well.
None of his previous shape shifts he had learned with the years of fighting off dreams were flying creatures, so Xavier had no way to fly without help. He concentrated, before calling out to the spirit he desired. "Justice."
There was no answer, but then, he had expected none. "JUSTICE. HEAR MY CALL. I, XAVIER ARYIO SURANA REQUIRE YOUR JUDGEMENT." The mage's voice echoed over the fade plains, as a white armored spirit stepped from the ground, as though climing stairs he couldn't see.
"Young red one. Your voice bothers me." the gravel-like voice grated in his ears. "What judgment do you desire." The redheaded elf stood high, though the spirit's power was crippling, making him wish to die from the lingering pain in his head, as well as the pain intruding from the very air around him, as though the spirit's presence alone was trying to perfect him.
"I desire a life and death judgment. The man's life force is being crippled by a spirit of this domain. I request your assistance in bringing it to justice so he may live." The benevolent spirit stared at him blankly with its glowing white orbs, before lifting its own armored chin. "You enforce the justice here."
"I have heard of you, boy. You hold the shades and demons off every night. It would be much easier to have given in, but you harbor pride as well." The armored being spoke. "I suppose I shall assist you with your deed, as this is a matter I am concerned with." Justice removed the sword from his back, before stabbing a shocked Xavier through the stomach.
The Mage's eyes watered and he turned to see the blade pierced through to where he could see the point over his shoulder. Even as he coughed blood, he could feel the spirit's intentions. The knowledge of an entirely new lifetime surged through him, even as he grappled to pull the sword from his stomach. Justice yanked the sword free with a nasty sound, and Xavier's stomach healed behind the wound, leaving only a puncture wound scar in its place, along with Xavier's bloodstained tunic. Xavier glared up at the spirit from down on his knees, panting from the experience. "I would appreciate knowing you were going to stab me before you did it." The spirit was silent, and Xavier closed his eyes to concentrate on the new memories, shifting his body to fit them.
"That is not my way." The spirit merely deadpanned, in what Xavier guessed was amusement, and watched as the Mage changed to a dark red scaled, slim dragon.
The experience of bursting from an egg was not something he would brag about to anyone. He learned to kill young, and use his claws to defend and fight for territory. He breathed fire upon his enemies, the small beings in metal shells, and saw the true beauty of life in their deaths. He flew, using his wings to awe and inspire, as well as captivate his prey. Xavier the mage fought to keep his own memories, to keep himself from getting lost in the life of another.
Xavier opened his wings, billowing dust all over the place on their current fade island. Justice radiated approval, even as he had to dodge the swing of Xavier's barbed tail. The dragon he had shifted into was larger than any simple dragon kin, but smaller and lither than a high dragon. Xavier hesitated slightly before bowing his head down so Justice could climb onto his neck; he made a jump from the island, his wings snapping out, the leather of the wings themselves bloody red.
As they landed in front of the castle, Justice jumped off and went to the huge metal double doors. He pounded on them yelling at the top of his metaphorical lungs that justice would be reached, but even as he rammed into the door with his shoulder. There was a chorus of squawks and shrieks from the inside, the indignant cry of a powerful shade and its followers. Xavier, still a dragon, leapt over the wall, disappearing into a fray of shades and demons. After a while of trying to break in, Justice had merely waited, knowing the seals and barriers on the door were too powerful to be broken with mere force.
Xavier fried and froze the demons, reveling in the madness of it. He was finally protecting more than just himself in the fade. He could remember the first time he'd burned down a town... Dragon-Xavier shook his head, pushing the foreign memories away. The dragon whose form this had been was brought to justice upon the ancient spirit's blade, as retribution for needless killing. Getting caught up in the sociopathic dragon's memories would be a great way to be killed. Xavier kicked the doors open with a large claw before shifting back into an elf again. Justice ran in, to see nothing but the elf.
"We have to get inside. To the throne room." Xavier explained.
"We must make haste if we are to make it in time." Justice agreed.
"Then we should run." Xavier's eyes glittered as he didn't wait for the spirit's approval, taking off like he had in Theo's forest, the stone walls of the castle blurring on either side of him, though the swirl of madness the darkspawn taint carried made it more difficult to concentrate on his destination. The castle was oddly empty; when Xavier slowed and crept around the corner before the throne room, listening to the far-off sound of Justice's approaching chain mail. Xavier could feel two presences in the throne room, one a demon, and the other Rowan. Xavier approached the hall, seeing the demon right away, facing in his direction, and Rowan with his back to him. The demon he saw was an older man with grey hair wielding a sword and axe against Rowan's greatsword. Xavier could visibly see Rowan's life energy being syphoned off him by the 'man' posing as whomever Rowan most wanted dead.
The more effort and work Rowan put into killing the man, the quicker the energy was being taken. The more time wore on, the more dangerous it got for the warrior's health, especially with the high level of darkspawn taint trying to settle into his body. Xavier reached for a sword on his back that he knew had to be there, before weighing it in his hands. The fighters had moved as they fought, circling each other to the point that the demonic being could no longer see him. Rowan was entirely focused on the fight, the elf invisible to him until a blade protruded from his enemy's chest, before being yanked back and lopping off the demon's head. Rowan merely stared, uncomprehending, as the elf wiped his sword off on his pant leg, before turning back to the body of Rendon Howe that was no longer there.
"Once something in the fade dies, everything they created dies with them. They no longer exist. So," The elf made eye contact, dropping his sword, though the warrior didn't hear it hit the ground. "Rowan. You need to get a grip. Killing whoever that man was wouldn't have changed anything. He was a fake. As well as this island is. We need to leave. You especially." Rowan only understood that this red elf was his friend, and his words made sense, though he didn't know why. Rowan nodded blearily, and followed the elf to where another warrior was dispatching a large group of shades and lesser demons. "Justice." The elf addressed the fighting spirit. "The creator is killed, so we're running on borrowed time here!" Justice finished his fight with a flourish, flicking the 'blood' from his blade.
"I see I am needed no longer. Justice has been delivered to those worthy. I shall take my leave then." The spirit walked to a fade portal, and didn't look back once as he departed. Xavier knew that thanking him would have no use, since he had no need for that. The elf turned to Rowan. He looked in pain, though there were no visible wounds. The elf took a hold of the collar of Rowan's armor, pulling him down to eye level. The elf bit into his palm, before putting his bleeding hand on Rowan's stunned and still blank face, grunting as he forced the warrior out of the fade; into consciousness by force. Rowan faded, and Xavier let himself collapse, before he felt the ground below him dissipate as everything in the fade did, when its master was dead. He fell, and saw a small floating island approaching from beneath him. Too exhausted and confused by the taint to change into a dragon, he felt himself continue to fall.