Sunlight glinted off of smoothly formed metal and into my eyes as I looked down the shaft of my steady short swords. Three feet away from me, my formidable opponent and I created slow circles around one another. He stood about six feet and four inches tall, an entire foot over me. Wielding a long sword, clutched tight in both hands, he examined me with a warrior's eyes. They skeptically glanced over my mage's robes and reflected a smile as they reached my dual blades in place of my staff. I knew exactly what Amian Cousland was thinking: this was going to be an easy feat. I needed to prove him wrong.

We had spent long enough acting as vultures and I decided some movement needed to be made. Lunging forward, I connected my blades to his. Amian counteracted my attack quickly, making a wide sweep towards my side. His blade sliced through the air as I quickly dodged his attempt. I stepped closer to him, jabbing my weapon, only to be met by the metallic clang of his. He began to apply pressure, slowly turning my blade in my right hand. I jumped back, quickly deflecting his blade with the one in my left. At first we distributed blows fairly equally, but then Amian began to win. Alistair said my only rule for this match was 'no magic.' I was never really good at following rules; especially from templars.

As I gripped my swords, I gathered a weak force of arcane power and pressed it into Amian's chest. He was baffled as his armored body clamored to the ground. I moved quickly and stood over him, positioning my blades at his neck.

"Hey! That's not fair!" Amian smiled arrogantly with an eyebrow cocked suspiciously.

"Never said I liked to play nice, did I?" I replied.

"Well, neither did I," Amian unexpectedly pushed my blades away with a newly discovered dagger and kicked my legs out from under me. He rolled away before I fell on him, causing me to hit the ground hard. All the breath in my lungs was harshly expelled and my hands released their solid clench on the hilts of my swords that clinked as they fell beside me. Amian's knees came down heavily on my arms, pinning me with his sneaky dagger pressed against my throat. His arrogant smile slinked back onto his face as I huffed angrily in surrender. He stood, retracted his blade, and offered a friendly hand in its place.

"You could use just a little more practice, Adelynne," Amian helped me to my feet.

"That's an understatement, fighting you," I dusted off my backside.

"I'm sure you'll catch up. Eventually," he laughed as he sheathed his sword. "I'd hate to see what you'd do to Alistair, though, with all that hatred you harness towards him."

"What are you talking about?"

"Basically everyone in camp knows you despise him," Amian said as I spotted the templar himself approach over Amian's shoulder. "You've been giving him death glares since day one. I don't know what happened there, nor do I want to, but I'd hate to be him facing you on the field. You, my dear, would become a force to be reckoned with."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should. And Alistair should be very cautious… even more so now that you have this in your head. Uh, I should have probably never said anything. Well, shutting up now," Amian shook his head.

"Speak of the devil," I murmured as Alistair came into ear shot. Amian turned as Alistair clasped his shoulder.

"You did well, Amian. Adelynne," Alistair cringed as he turned to me. "You knew you weren't supposed to use magic."

"I did," I said nonchalantly.

"But you did," the templar pointed out.

"Wow, thank you Captain Obvious. Wait, wasn't it you who told us, just yesterday, to use our strengths in battle? Ohh… right. I should have guessed that excluded mages since it came from a templar," I said in the same taunting tone.

"I wanted you to be challenged! There could be times when you're incapable of using arcane power to fight your battles," Alistair fumed.

"When, exactly? When I'm fighting a templar, perhaps?"

"Possibly!"

"Care to test that theory?" His face was haunted with the answer to my pressing question. "Amian said I needed practice anyways."

I retrieved my fallen blades and paced a few steps away from the templar. Amian took a few slow steps back and then turned to run to the fence. I spun the hilts carefully between my fingers like I'd been practicing for the past three days since Duncan's leave. In the small amount of time, I'd gone from a limited knowledge of combat to sparing against Amian Cousland. He was probably one of the best fighters in the entire camp, if not all of Ferelden. I hated to say it, but Alistair was a close match. Yet even after Amian beat me battle after battle, he thought I could pummel Alistair. I hoped his faith in me wasn't misplaced.

I steadied my breathing as I prepared myself for the fight I had been waiting for. My arms hung limply at my sides with swords in hand and I couldn't help but smile as he shifted uneasily under my intense glare. He equipped his weapon and his shield, seeming more confident now they were in his grip. As hard as it was not to go ahead and try my best to beat the tar out of the templar, I waited for him to make the first move.

He swung widely and instantly I deflected his stroke, spinning to catch him with my other blade. My sword conjured a loud THWACK against his hard, wooden shield. He retaliated with a forceful shield bash, compelling me backward. Through my daze and the quick action, I dodged out of the way of Alistair's next attack and cast a small orb of flames towards my foe. His leather boot caught fire and the templar jumped and yelped, trying to put it out. I quickly went around him and kicked in the back of his knee. He recovered faster than I was anticipating. On one knee, he turned around and hit me with his shield once more, knocking one of my swords away from me. He then whirled up with his own blade while I was in my state of momentary shock. The tip nicked my cheek and warm blood began to flow from the shallow gash. I let out a rambunctious battle cry and relentlessly assailed upon him. He tried his best to keep up with my hasty attacks and counteracted most of them. I summoned a thin layer of ice under the templar's feet and he slipped, losing his grip on his sword. I brought myself on top of him, readying myself for victory but I was bashed once again by the fateful shield. We were both now unarmed and fought for the triumph. I attempted to punch him, but Alistair was too strong. He grabbed both of my hands into one of his own. I sent and electrocuting pulse so he would release me, but the harder I focused on the spell, the less he seemed to react. He clenched his teeth and suddenly, I noticed my magic was failing me. Soon enough nothing was happening.

I kicked hard and the drained Alistair let go of me. I scrambled for a weapon, Alistair did the same. I found a hilt covered in kicked up dirt and spun to face the templar. He tried to get back up, using his shield for support. I kicked his stomach, propelling him to the dusty earth. I placed my delicate foot on his chest and the point of my blade under his chin. I was victorious. Alistair swallowed and accepted his defeat painfully.

"Stop!" Amian's voice interrupted my concentration as I pressed the tip of my sword into Alistair's chin. "Duncan's back."

"Already?" I asked breathlessly from my frozen poise of attack.

"Yes, already. He wants to see us‒ all of us‒ and I think he means in one piece," he motioned to Alistair with his head and laughed. I hesitated, wanting the fight to continue. "Now."

"Fine. But whatever it was you did to me, do it again and I'll kill you, templar," I bitterly pulled my sword from his neck and walked away. Alistair sat up and looked after me as he rubbed his throat. Amian helped the templar up as I retrieved my fallen sword.

Together, the three of us walked to find the other recruits who were standing against the fence amongst the horde of soldiers gathered to watch our quarrel. I hadn't noticed there were so many onlookers through my tunnel vision. I watched as they boisterously exchanged bets with one another. We approached the last two recruits: the mischievous rouge Daveth and the righteous knight of Redcliffe, Ser Jory. As we passed the pair, I noticed them throwing something behind me. I turned to see Amian with his trademark, cocky smile and two leather pouches in his hands.

"What? I knew you could knock him on his ass," Amian laughed as he pocketed the coin. He then cuffed Alistair's shoulder. "Sorry mate."

Alistair grunted unhappily as we continued with our newly acquired company. My cheek began to sting from where Alistair's blade had scratched me and my blood was cool when I touched it. There was nothing really to do about it, so I listened to Jory's theories of why Duncan left and why he returned early. His theories only brought up more questions from the rest of us. Only the Warden-Commander could supply satisfactory answers now.

Upon entering Duncan's tent, the Warden-Commander was talking to a blazing, red-haired elf in a low and understanding tone of a mentor. She turned as we entered, displaying forest green eyes that engulfed her ivory face and an elegant nose sprinkled with microscopic freckles. Her long crimson hair complimented her pale complexion and coiled around her delicate shoulders. Her tattered clothes suggested she was a servant. Instantly, I recognized the disgusted glare she expressed as she looked around the room. It was the same expression I gave templars.

"Ah! Wonderful! You're all here," Duncan looked up at us from the servant. She turned as well, but didn't leave. "I apologize for leaving so abruptly and without instruction. I was needed urgently in Denerim. However, I assume you're all getting along well?"

"Ha! Sure," Amian snorted, looking directly at me. "You could say that."

"I understand that there could be some tension amongst you all, but you are all to be in the same order and you'll discover that you aren't so different from one another," Duncan explained. We all replied with a questioning gaze.

"I do rather enjoy her company, but shouldn't we excuse this servant to her duties?" Daveth interrupted. The elf's face turned almost as red as her hair and her fists clenched tight. "I mean isn't Grey Warden business very secretive?"

"Pardon me, shem, but you should keep your ignorant mouth shut unless you know what it is you're talking about," her words whipped Daveth, only agitating him. He stepped forward to retaliate but Duncan stepped in to mediate the situation.

"Calm down, both of you," the Warden-Commander raised his hand. "This is Liraën Tabris. She is no servant, but a fellow recruit. I expect you all treat one another with respect. I will have you all know that I'm trying to recruit as many new Grey Wardens before conducting the Joining Ceremony and I will be gone again in two days time. Until then, I need you all to do something in preparation for your Joining."

"And what would that be?" I asked.

"You'll be going into the Korcari Wilds to retrieve vials of darkspawn blood, essential to the ritual. You will need to gather one for each of you and a few extras for any other recruits I am able to assemble. I have also asked Alistair, as the junior Warden, to accompany you," Duncan explained. I heaved a heavy sigh, expressing my irritation.

"Right, so get the vials of blood and come back? Sounds too easy," Amian said.

"I also need you to retrieve a few treaties at an old outpost," Duncan added.

"And there it is," Amian continued.

"You do have a point, Cousland," Daveth said. "It sounds easy enough; especially with our numbers. We'll have the vials and your treaties in no time."

I wanted to complain about Alistair coming along, but I did not want to cause any more unnecessary problems to the Warden-Commander's attention right now. We all looked over maps and Duncan showed us where we needed to go. The tension in the air was thick and obvious, to say the least. Glares were shot in every direction; between my loathing of Alistair, Liraën's hatred for all of us in general, and of course, Daveth's confusing sexual tension towards us females. Duncan, Amian, and Jory seemed indifferent and focused on the plans while Alistair gritted his teeth, feeling my hostile scowl boring holes into his skin.

"Looks like we could make the trip in a day," Amian pushed away from the table, satisfied. "We should be able to make it back to camp before nightfall."

"Great, we better go get ready then," Jory said. Duncan agreed and the men began to shuffle out. Daveth was first wanting to either be away from Liraën or go harass more women, I wasn't sure. Amian stood still next to me, his face was eerily serious.

"Have you heard any word from my brother yet?" Amian said quietly. His face was foreign and melancholy. There was no joking tone coating his voice, just sorrow.

"I'm sorry, Amian, I have not," Duncan shook his head. Amian nodded and hastily exited. I looked to Duncan, nodded with respect, and followed my friend.

Outside, the sunlight caused me to squint from the transition from the shade in the heavy canvas tent. I regained my track of Amian and started to follow him once more.

"Working together isn't going to be a problem is it?" Alistair's voice came from behind me. I stopped, initially startled, and couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"Do you have to come?" I asked.

"Yes. I do," he insisted. "Are we going to have a problem?"

"I don't know, are we?" I responded childishly. He grabbed the bend of my elbow and I turned to face him quickly.

"Look, I really don't understand your problem with me," he started. "I get it that you're a mage and I was once a templar, but I'm a Grey Warden now. I just want to help you. Will you let me do that? Can we go one day without bickering?"

I contemplated his question. It was a difficult one for me to just agree to, yet it was also difficult for me to respond with one of my bitter remarks. I just stared at him.

"Perhaps," I finally replied. His jaw and his hand dropped and I turned and walked away, unaware of what I'd just done with my neutral response.