A/N: Research shows that writers who receive reviews are over 90% less likely to develop Writer's Block as those who don't. So, you know, review...

)O(

From what she had been told, Ostagar was an ancient fortress built by the Tevinter Imperium to monitor barbarian attacks from the Wilds. Now, it was a crumbling ruin, one of the only remaining Tevinter structures in Ferelden aside from the Circle Tower itself. Of course, they would be facing a much different foe this time. Darkspawn weren't barbarians: they were the eyes, ears, and hands of the archdemon, weakening its potential prey until the dragon made a move to the surface. The Grey Wardens seemed to know it was down there somewhere, amassing an army of its own...

"I hope you'll have some spells to help us in the coming battle." King Cailan, beloved but childish ruler of Ferelden said. No one could blame him. He was practically still a child himself.

We'll see about that, she thought, but what Cecilia said was, "Thank you, your Majesty. I will try not to disappoint anyone."

And so, she made her way through the ruins, occasionally asking for directions from passing soldiers. Her staff served as an efficient enough cane for now, just so she didn't accidentally trip over loose stones or run into a wall that she swore hadn't been there a second ago. Ostagar was an unfamiliar place, after all, she couldn't navigate it as easily as she could the Tower. The full implications of Cecilia's disability suddenly hit her. She felt so...different; so horribly and irrevocably changed. There really was no going back, was there? Things would be as they were forever, or simply get worse, since they could always get worse.

"I'd heard the new Grey Warden was from the Circle." An old woman addressed her. This woman, clearly a mage, had an aura of comfort about her. It was a warm, baby blue energy that conveyed nothing but peace, kindness, and slightly insistent wisdom.

"Senior Enchanter Wynne!" Cecilia exclaimed, smiling. "Petra has told me such good things about you."

"Oh, I'm sure she has plenty of complaints about me too." They both laughed. "You know, Irving has told me many things about you as well. He wrote me a few weeks ago and explained what happened. He is very sorry, dear, as am I."

Cecilia was shocked by this stranger's compassion. "Thank you, but...I'll be okay, I think."

"I know you will be." the elder mage assured her. "But the past isn't what's important now, I suppose. You'll be fighting darkspawn soon. Tell me, what do you know of the connection between darkspawn and the Fade?"

Her ears perked up at the mention of the dream realm.

Darkspawn...in the Fade? How was such a thing even possible? There were demons and there were spirits. That is what most mages knew, and some even believed the Fade was inhabited solely by demons who sought to possess them. But she, as a Spirit mage, had learned that there existed a million gray areas, somewhere between demon and spirit, and a million colors not visible to the waking eye, but darkspawn? It was impossible, unimaginable, and just plain ridiculous.

"With all due respect, Senior Enchanter, in all my years of training in the art of Spirit I have heard of no such thing."

Ah, but Wynne wasn't referring to actual darkspawn living in the dream realm. No, she meant to tell her the Chantry's version of how the Blight came to be: the allegory that so many people eagerly accepted as truth before even considering any alternate theories. It was they who were blinded, not her.

Cecilia didn't have time for this anyway. She had to find the Grey Warden called Alistair who was to prepare her for the Joining. It was easy enough once someone pointed her in the right direction.

)O(

There were three things about the new recruit which convinced him that Duncan had been out of his mind when he asked her to join the order.

First of all, she was a woman. Not that he minded, of course, but there just weren't that many women in the Grey Wardens and he had always wondered why. But she had an interesting answer for that one, "Maybe we're just too smart for you."

Ah, and he had no doubt of that. She was a mage. Templar training be damned, this shouldn't bother him, but he was arguing with another mage when she arrived and he must have given her the impression that he thought all of them were grumpy abominations lying in wait. Which he didn't, really, it was one of the reasons he hadn't wanted to be a templar in the first place. Alistair could sympathize with the mages to a certain degree; they didn't have a choice either. They were not free, and they were constantly hated just for being born. So was he, his blood, his stupid royal blood had defined his life. Alistair hated the Chantry and he hated being a bastard prince.

But this wasn't important right now. There was still the matter of the new girl, the blind mage. That's right, Duncan hadn't been joking, since Duncan didn't joke about Grey Warden things. Cecilia - he wasn't about to forget her name again - was blind. Apparently it had happened before she took the Harrowing, some kind of accident with a spell, he wasn't given many details. Not that Alistair wanted to know. He certainly wasn't going to ask. Nonetheless, Cecilia seemed to be adapting well enough, how did she do it?

Even as they moved through the Wilds, she managed to avoid tripping over any jagged roots or stepping into the many shallow pools the swamp had. He found himself watching her more and more. It was remarkable how graceful she could be. Alistair hoped she survived the Joining, at least, she just had to make it through.

They had completed half of their mission. Each of them had a vial of impossibly dark red blood, to the point that it was almost black. The blood of darkspawn, tainted and evil, and guess what? You're going to be drinking it!

"And you, what do you believe?" the old woman asked Cecilia. He couldn't believe this was the dreaded Witch of the Wilds, the infamous sorceress of legend.

"I don't know what to believe." the Circle mage answered honestly.

"A statement that carries more wisdom than it implies."

The alleged Witch was insane, possibly dangerous and/or possessed, but still she returned the treaties to them.

Her daughter Morrigan, the sneaky, weird talking, apostate that she was, agreed to lead their party out of the forest.

It was time.

)O(

It was time.

No going back now.

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn, and use it to slay the archdemon." Alistair, the templar who told jokes, informed them..

"Those who survive?" Cecilia could not stop the words from leaving her throat.

"Not all who drink the darkspawn blood will survive, and those who do are forever changed." Duncan said.

Horribly, irrevocably, changed...

And indeed, a moment later she could hear someone dying. Her mind's eye clearly saw his spirit fade into the abyss. The mark of an early death, a sacrificial end, as the land of the dead was not prepared to claim him just yet. Daveth the Thief was gone.

"No, you ask too much!" Then there was the sound of two swords unsheathed, one belonging to him, and the other to the Warden-Commander. "There is no glory in this!" Battle followed, only briefly though before one blade hit its mark, sinking into the flesh and out the other side. Ser Jory, the Cowardly Knight, fell to the stone floor...dead. Another soul for the void to take…

"I am sorry, Jory." Duncan said.

Cecilia felt the chalice being pressed into her hands. She took it instinctively, and brought it to her lips. Her hands were shaking and her heart raced. Never had she been more afraid, not even before the Harrowing.

Her unseeing eyes rolled back in her head as awful visions assaulted her mind. She wasn't sure exactly why she could see this of all things. It was not the Fade, nor the mortal plain, but somewhere in between; perhaps the deepest, darkest, depths of her own subconscious. The creature that dwelled here could only be the archdemon itself.

But the beast was gone as quickly as it had appeared. With one earsplitting roar it proclaimed its great power over over her and the world came back into focus and returned to the blackness she knew it to be now.

She could feel Duncan's strong, battle-hardened presence nearby as well as Alistair's. He had a slightly worried energy about him. Odd for a templar.

"It is done." the senior Grey Warden declared. "Welcome." He helped Cecilia to her feet just as he had back at the Circle Tower when her mind was still reeling from the betrayal of someone she thought was a friend. He'd done it to protect Lily, she knew, but that didn't soften the blow.

"That was much more painful than the Harrowing..." she offered, not wanting to even think of him or that day.

Duncan requested her attendance to a strategy meeting with King Cailan the Glorious; Teyrn Loghain, his adviser, general, and some argued the only competent one here, the person who would lead them to victory in Ferelden's name. In fact, after King Maric's death it had even been suggested that he should rule instead of Cailan, but he wasn't about to take the crown away from the current royal line when he had fought so hard to see it won back from the Orlesians. But, as Cecilia was quickly realizing, people didn't seem to live up to what the history books said they should be. Sometimes this was for the better, often not.

Enchanter Uldred was also said to be at the meeting, as was the Grand Cleric of the Chantry. She was there to make sure the mages weren't heard. Cecilia didn't consider herself to be a Libertarian like Uldred, nor was she a Equitarian like Irving or Wynne. Above all, Cecilia was a realist. True, people would never stop fearing mages, but it was no reason to run off and live on an island somewhere. On the other hand, things certainly weren't dire enough to completely submit to the Chantry's law. One couldn't afford to give up or be too rebellious. Maybe hers was more of an Equitarian viewpoint after all, but she had nothing to compare it to now.

Equitarians were looked down upon by Loyalists and Libertarians alike. But they kept a certain balance of ideas and influence, maintaining a fragile peace not only between templars and mages, but among the Enchanters themselves. They bridged the gap that separated freedom fro submission. It wasn't a coincidence that almost every higher ranking Enchanter was an Equitarian. Not because it was right, but because it was necessary.

But of course, wasn't that the entire reason for the Circle's existence?

Relief washed over her when the king announced that she would not be in the battle. Perhaps she could take on a few darkspawn at a time, but Cecilia was no match for an entire army. Now that she was a Grey Warden, the mage would be able to sense them. This was good since darkspawn were twisted, soulless, vessels who didn't go to the Fade when they were slain. Cecilia didn't want to imagine where they went. All she knew was it made it impossible for her to sense them without their blood in her veins.

Still, she did not look forward to fighting the beasts again, and so when King Cailan sent she and Alistair to light the beacon that would signal Teyrn Loghain's troops to charge, Cecilia was secretly thankful.

But because the Maker hated mages, the Tower of Ishal had been seized by the enemy. They'd have to fight their way in. The beacon was just out of reach. And as the storm raged on, she began to miss the warmth and relative safety of the Tower of Magi.