Zeriah looked around the chantry. It reminded her of the old chapel in Highever Castle: its simplicity making it beautiful. She shook her head, trying to remove the memory from her mind. After everything that had happened, she wasn't sure if she believed in the Maker anymore. She noticed Alistair staring at a man nearby.
"Ser Donall? Is that you?" he asked. The knight turned as recognition lit his face.
"Alistair? By the Maker, how are you? I…I was certain you were dead!" he said, embracing her fellow warden. Alistair returned the hug before leaning back.
"I almost was, thanks to Teyrn Loghain." He said, with irritation in his tone. Donall nodded in understanding.
"If Arl Eamon were well, he would set Loghain straight soon enough." He said. Zeriah arched an eyebrow as Alistair's face took on an expression of shock.
"He's sick? How did this happen? If he's sick, what are you doing here?" he asked. She could tell that her companion was devastated, and she didn't really know what to do. The knight sighed.
"All the knights in Redcliffe are searching for the Urn of Sacred Ashes." He explained. Zeriah blinked.
"You're hunting for a myth? That is your plan?" she asked in shock. The knight shrugged.
"We don't have another choice. We went to the Circle to see if the mages would help us, but the tower is sealed off. Apparently all the mages are turning into abominations or something." He said as though that meant nothing.
"What? But…we need the mages!" Alistair sputtered. Zeriah shook her head. What else would go wrong today?
"I don't know what else to tell you, lad. I need to go. It was good to see you, Alistair, take care." The knight said. Zeriah and Alistair stared at each other for a long time.
"I have a feeling things just got more difficult." Alistair groaned. Zeriah nodded.
"Let's go get some supplies." She suggested.
Supplies were easy to acquire, and Zeriah decided that they should head to the tavern to see if they could hear any news there. They entered the small inn, and saw a small group of soldiers standing there, Loghain's crest on all of their shields.
"Shit." She muttered when their leader noticed them. He grinned at her.
"Well, look what we have here, men. I think we've just been blessed." He said in a deep voice. Zeriah's hand twitched toward her sword.
"Didn't we spend all morning asking about a woman by this very description? And everyone said they hadn't seen her?" his second said with a grin that matched the captain's.
"It seems we were lied to." The leader said angrily. Suddenly there was a flash of red hair and cream-colored robes between them.
"Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble. These are no doubt simply more peasants seeking refuge." The young chantry sister said in an accent that was obviously Orlesian. One of the men shoved the woman aside.
"There is no need to be violent toward a chantry sister. You came here for me, so come and get me." She crooned. The man grumbled in appreciation.
"I will have your traitorous head, Warden." He said before shouting the order to attack. The battle was short and sweet due to the surprising assistance from the sister. She was a whirlwind with blades: a dangerous combination. Soon, the only foe left was the leader.
"I surrender!" he panted. The sister smiled cheerfully.
"Good, they've learned their lesson and we can all stop fighting now." She said. Zeriah looked down at her hostage. She could feel Alistair tensing behind her, and she made a choice.
"Take a message to Loghain." She said. Alistair sighed in relief, and it made her consider the choices she had made recently. Was she turning into a monster?
"Yes, anything!" the man begged. She saw a bead of sweat run down his forehead, and she watched it until it vanished into his beard.
"Tell him that we know who the real traitor is, and that he will not succeed in this treachery." She hissed before sheathing her weapon. The man nodded, terror in his eyes.
"I'll tell him." He cried before scrambling to his feet and sprinting out of the tavern. The sister stepped before her with a charming smile. She wasn't tall, but she still towered over Zeriah. Her short red hair was neatly combed with a single braid running down the front, and her bright blue eyes sparkled with delight.
"I apologize for interfering, but I couldn't just sit by and not help." She said in her sweet voice. Zeriah just stared at her. The sister reminded her of a cream puff: too sweet and fluffy for her tastes.
"Yes, well, thanks. I have to go." She said, turning away.
"Oh! Are we going?" the sister said excitedly. Zeriah glanced at Alistair, whose expression was just as confused as her own.
"I am going. You are not. I don't even know you." She said slowly. The sister laughed.
"My apologies! I am Leliana, a lay sister in the Lothering chantry. Or at least, I was." She rambled. Zeriah shook her head in confusion.
"Fascinating. You're still not coming with us." She reiterated. Leliana smiled.
"Of course I am! The Maker wants me to go with you." She said plainly. Morrigan groaned.
"More crazy? I thought we were all full up." Alistair quipped. Zeriah shrugged.
"Unfortunately for you, the Maker and I aren't exactly on good terms. No." she said again, turning on her heel and leaving the frowning sister behind. It was not the last they saw of her, however. She caught them before they were about to head out of the village.
"Oh, hello again. Will you let me help you now?" she asked politely. Zeriah groaned.
"Not you again." She moaned.
"I have to be honest, when I heard about the Blight, I knew I had to help. And then I had the vision from the Maker. It cannot be coincidence that you are brought to me so shortly after I was called by the Maker." She said reverently. Alistair snorted at the expression on Zeriah's face. She looked so exasperated that he couldn't help but laugh.
"Her pleas seem whole-hearted, and even though she seems a little…strange…she does have skill. I say we take her along." Her fellow warden said. Zeriah looked up at him with a deadpanned expression.
"Alistair, she's one archdemon short of a Blight." She said drily. He roared with laughter, but quickly collected himself.
"Yes, but she seems more 'Ooh, pretty colors!' than 'Muahaha! I am Princess Stabbity! Stab, kill-kill!'" he replied cheerily. Zeriah's lips twitched in a small smile, and she fought against the laughter that bubbled in her throat.
"All right, but if she's a problem: You get to deal with her." She agreed. Leliana clapped her hands in excitement.
"I will get my things and meet you by the windmill!" she called, running off toward the chantry. Zeriah sighed. What was she getting herself into? As they approached the windmill, they noticed a strange sight. A giant, grey-skinned man with violet eyes stood in a cage. Zeriah was too curious to ignore him and she rushed over. The grey giant looked down at her with annoyance.
"Be gone, human. I am not an animal to be gawked at." He said in a low, menacing voice. Zeriah frowned.
"My name is Zeriah, who are you?" she asked politely. The massive man raised an eyebrow.
"You mock me. Or you show manners I have not previously encountered in this country. I am Sten of the Beresaad. The vanguard of the Qunari people." He said slowly.
"The Revered Mother said he slaughtered an entire family, even the children." Leliana said from behind them. Zeriah turned with surprise to see the sister in leather armor, wearing a sorrowful expression. Sten nodded.
"It is as she says." He said simply. Zeriah blinked. Nobody just admitted to doing something like that. The Qunari man intrigued her.
"Not to put too fine a point on it, but Qunari are renowned warriors. If we could release him, perhaps he might help us." Alistair suggested. She was surprised that his thoughts mirrored her own.
"I find myself in need of skilled help." She said. The Qunari studied her.
"No doubt. What help to you seek?" he asked blandly. Zeriah found that she liked this man. He wasn't the type to push her into feeling something.
"I am a Grey Warden, sworn to defend the land against the Blight." She told him.
"My people have heard tales of the Grey Warden's strength and skill…though I suppose not every story can be true." He replied. Zeriah blinked. Had he just insulted her? She wasn't surprised. When you barely reached five feet, people didn't tend to take you seriously, especially not as a warrior. She waved him off.
"Do any of you know how to pick locks?" she asked her companions. It was Leliana who stepped forward and eagerly began working at the lock. It opened with a loud pop, and the giant stepped out. Zeriah suddenly felt like a very small bug. She already felt like a child when she stood next to Alistair, but this creature towered over even the tall warden. He stared down at all of them.
"I will follow you into battle. In doing so I shall find my atonement." He said prophetically. Zeriah nodded.
"It's good to have you with us." She told him. He frowned, or maybe it was just his usual facial expression.
"We shall see." He said. They decided to continue on their way, opting to find armor for the grey-skinned giant later when they saw a group of angry villagers rushing over to the now-empty cage. They heard shouts ahead, and saw a pair of dwarves trying to fight off a small group of darkspawn. Zeriah and Alistair immediately sprang into action, charging into the fray together. It was hard to fight with another person at her back, but Zeriah figured that they would learn to be more efficient as time went on. The battle was over before it truly began, and Zeriah turned to the terrified dwarves.
"Mighty timely arrival there, my friend. I'm much obliged." The older one said graciously. Zeriah nodded.
"I am glad to have been of assistance. Stay safe." She said before turning to leave.
"Wait! The name's Bodahn Feddic, merchant and entrepreneur. This here's my son, Sandal." The dwarf said hurriedly.
"I'm Zeriah, and I really must go." She urged. Bodahn shook his head.
"Mind if I ask what brings you out here? Maybe we're going the same way." He suggested. Zeriah weighed the benefits of having a merchant travel with them, and she nodded in agreement.
"Maybe we are. How about this: You travel with us and, in exchange for our protection, give us a discount on your goods?" she persuaded. She had always had exceptional bartering skills. The dwarf nodded eagerly.
"Sounds like a fair deal to me. Come along, Sandal, it's time to go." He said. The young, blonde dwarf looked at his father with wide blue eyes.
"Enchantment?" he asked excitedly. Zeriah raised an eyebrow. Bodahn shrugged.
"The boy's a bit slow, but he has an unnatural talent for enchanting weapons." He explained. Zeriah nodded in understanding, filing away that bit of information for later. The group left Lothering, then, traveling until the light in the sky began to fade. Zeriah called a halt, and they finally stopped to make camp. She sat by the fire, taking care of her weapons and armor until they looked like new.
"Your sword is like your Mabari: Take care of it, and it'll take care of you. Treat it badly, and it'll do the same." Bryce's words echoed through her mind. It was a piece of advice that she had always taken to heart. She stared at the familiar laurel leaf crest stamped on the pommel of the blade, and more memories began to wash over her.
"What do they mean, Papa?" Zeriah asked as she stared at the crest emblazoned on the shield before her. Bryce Cousland chuckled and set her on his lap.
"The laurel is a symbol of peace and protection, Pup. It is said that they are like a shield against things that would harm us." He explained. The dark-haired child scoffed.
"What could harm us, Papa? We're Couslands! Nothing will stand in our way!" she cried triumphantly. Her father ruffled her hair.
"Now, Pup, you must always remember that as a Cousland, it is your duty to protect our people and to show them the loyalty they have shown us." He reminded her. "Tell me the family words." He ordered. She sighed.
"Fortius quo fidelius." She said, stumbling over the strange tongue. Bryce nodded proudly.
"And what does that mean in our language?" he prodded.
"Strength through loyalty." She repeated, not really understanding what the words were supposed to mean.
Zeriah laughed bitterly. Loyalty had gotten her family killed. She ran a finger across the crest one last time before noticing a pair of legs before her. She followed them up to see Alistair looking down at her with a worried expression.
"Zeriah, are you…all right?" he asked. She wondered why he would be asking that before realizing that tears were streaming down her face. She touched her damp cheek in wonder.
"I…No. No, I'm not." She admitted. He crouched in front of her.
"Do you want to talk?" he asked softly. She shook her head.
"No. Thank you. I should get some rest." She said before quickly standing and moving over to her bedroll. She squeezed her eyes shut and slowed her breathing, not expecting the overwhelming slumber that overtook her.
The dragon roared fiercely at her, but she was stuck on the ledge with nowhere to go. She waved her sword, but it easily swatted the tiny weapon out of her hand, sending it to the chasm below. The beast laughed as only a dragon could before enveloping her in bright green flame.
"No!"
"No!" she screamed. She was covered in cold sweat, and she was trembling from head to toe. She checked to see that the family sword was still by her side, and gave a sigh of relief when she realized that it was.
"Bad dreams, huh?" Alistair's voice asked. She immediately looked to see him watching her from the other side of the fire. Zeriah still felt in shock. She was surprised that she wasn't on fire.
"It seemed so…real…" she said softly. Alistair nodded and came over to sit beside her.
"Well it is…sort of. You see the archdemon, that big scary dragon you probably saw, it talks to the darkspawn. And since we sense the darkspawn…" he explained. She nodded in understanding.
"We also receive its messages." She added. He nodded. "Anything else I should know about?" He shrugged.
"Eventually you'll be able to block the dreams out. It takes practice, but I'll teach you how to do it. I just…wanted to let you know. I heard you thrashing around and I remembered how scary it was for me in the beginning." He admitted.
"I'm not frightened." She immediately responded. His expression was slightly hurt, and to her surprise, she actually felt guilty about it. "Alistair." She said as he began to walk away. He paused and looked back at her. "Thank you. For telling me, I mean." She said awkwardly. He smiled warmly at her.
"That's what I'm here for: To deliver terrible news and witty one-liners." He remarked. She smiled to herself as he returned to his own bedroll. After falling asleep, no other nightmares entered her mind from the archdemon or her own haunted memories.
A/N: You guys, I am so sorry that I haven't posted in a while. I've been insanely busy! But this story is still going on, so no worries! I gave you two chapters as an apology! Thank you for sticking with me!