The Wardens had listened attentively, asked questions, then promised the man to attend to the matters as soon as possible. After offering some coins so that he could stay in the city for the night - and being refused - the Wardens checked their gear, then headed out to the outskirts. Levian was in the front, checking the ground for traps.

"I don't get it," Gelsomina said. "Why are the darkspawn resurfacing?"

Amarina's expression was dark. The darkspawn had been resurfacing, after four hundred years of silence. They had believed that the end of the Blight will drive the darkspawn back to the Deep Roads, but they had not; and even when Amarina had killed the Architect and the Mother, the darkspawn wave had only receded slightly before they had resurfaced again. She had received reports from as far as Sundermount that darkspawn were being seen, albeit in small numbers. Fighting darkspawn was nothing new for her, but this was. What was bringing them up to the surface? It wasn't another Blight; she had asked around and none of the Wardens had dreamt of a dragon. Just dark ominous dreams that everyone had now and then, with not much coherence.

Nothing serious.

They walked the country road quietly; Levian was concentrating on the path, Amarina was deep in thought, Gaspard was readying himself for a battle after a tiring day. Taking horses had been out of question if they did not want to buy fresh ones here. Only Alistair and Gelsomina were talking, Gelsomina voicing her fears for the first true battle against the darkspawn and Alistair trying to comfort her. If Amarina had not been so preoccupied, she may have noticed that something was very amiss, but she was currently in far too deep of a thought to pay attention to much else. Rabbit was alert, eager for the kill; the dog seemed to know that they were going into battle, and he stayed close to his mistress as he trotted. Sometimes he sniffed the air before going on.

They were just about to enter the valley when Levian stopped them. "Trap," he said, pointing at the ground.

Amarina, jerked from her thoughts, looked at the elf. She realised he was awaiting her orders; it was a simple foothold trap. She could order it disarmed, or leave it for some errant animal - or perhaps darkspawn - to be caught in it. She considered the options for a moment, then ordered the others away from the spot. She bent down, gently touching the blades with gloved fingertips. It came away smeared; the trap was poisoned. She stood up.

"Could you disarm it?"

Instead of answering, Levian drew out a pin from his belt and bent down. As the Dalish worked to spring the trap, Gaspard watched Gelsomina and Alistair with a frown. It was rather obvious that Amarina's mind was elsewhere; she was looking at the distance with a frown on her face. But he also knew of women's devious ploys to get a man and he knew he was seeing it right now. Should he tell her? He eyed the dog, who was sitting quietly by Amarina's feet, his eyes staring at the forest.

"Done. Let's go."

Amarina resumed the march again without a word; the others followed. The darkspawn muck began to appear in the trees that lined the road, and the Wardens drew their weapons. Conversation died as they paid attention to their senses to sense the darkspawn. Levian was in the lead, Gaspard following closely behind, and Alistair automatically closed into his wife as she walked behind the two males. Gelsomina watched as the man went up to the elf, exchange words with her. Each gesture, so familiar to each other, like a secret language that had been spoken between them and only them for years. Amarina listened, nodding at her husband's words, inserting a few questions or objections here and there. Alistair whispered again, and Amarina nodded a bit more firmly this time.

They went ten paces in, then Amarina signalled. The men crowded around her, proffering their blades to her. Gelsomina watched from behind the gathering as Amarina took her blade, touching the blade with her forefinger and her middle. A wave of energy burst from her fingertips as she finished a quick recitation, and the blades began to emit a soft hum. She repeated the process again, but this time with different recitation - or so Gelsomina deduced - since the blades began to burn, emitting orange tongues of fire.

Amarina gestured to move forward. Levian went in the lead, his footsteps silent as he moved; Gaspard was next, his footsteps heavier, then Amarina, her blade drawn, then Alistair. Gelsomina brought up the rear, now truly fearful. The only time she had ever killed darkspawn was during her Joining, and even then she had been protected by the warriors who had accompanied her. But now, she was required, expected to hold up her part of the battle. The Warden-Commander had told her that she wished Gelsomina to stay out of battle if possible, but she had also warned that there might not be anyone to protect her if an errant darkspawn came her way.

Damn the Warden-Commander, with her smugness and her "I'm confident" countenance. No doubt the elf had no care whether she lived or died; that woman thought her subordinates were disposable. Well, except her husband. She probably valued her dog far more than she did her. Well, if that was the case, she'd play along as long as she saw it fit. Damn that elven bitch!

And then a genlock burst from the shrubs, and her thought stopped as Levian twirled on the ball of his foot as he slashed the genlock's throat. The monster toppled to the ground with a gurgle. Alistair shouted at the dog to go to the healer; Amarina slapped her hands together in front of her chest, her blade pointing upward toward the sky as she muttered a few words. A faint, shimmering sphere sprouted from the ground about her, an iridescent red and blue wall around her.

"Commander," Levian muttered as Amarina caught up. "Do you reckon we'd need help?"

She closed her eyes, concentrated. "Maybe. Let's hold off for now." Her eyes opened. "They're coming."

"How many?"

Amarina opened her mouth, but it was Alistair who answered. "There's a good battalion, Gaspard. There's an ogre." The Fereldans, who had been there during the Blight, were more in tune with their Taint and sometimes could pinpoint the locations or the numbers.

"How far are they?"

"About a hundred paces?"

Gaspard raised an eyebrow. "Let's spring them a surprise, then."

Amarina nodded. They walked a bit further, then Gaspard and Alistair broke into a run, their blades held low and charging into the crowd of darkspawn up ahead. Levian, looking like a mere shadow, flitted from the side and joined the fray.

Amarina continued walking; Gelsomina was annoyed. So the famed Warden-Commander would simply let the men take the blows while she went on a leisurely stroll? But her thoughts were cut off as a tall hurlock, dressed in ragged robes, burst out from the forest, shrieking a spell. Amarina shouted a spell of her own, and the two arcane forces met in mid-air. The two mages held their ground for a moment, each forcing their mana to stand, but Amarina yelled another word and the emissary broke the concentration for a fleeting moment. Amarina seized the chance and forced her power to break through. The emissary screamed as it toppled over, dead.

The battle was raging a bit to the distance; the numbers were thinning as the warriors fought on. Alistair had bashed a hurlock's face in with his shield as he freed his blade from another's ribs; Gaspard swung his greatsword low, taking the genlock's head off. Levian was locked in a duel with a shriek, his movements barely visible as he flitted from a shadow to a shadow, his footsteps no louder than a breeze in the grass. Gelsomina watched in amazement as the men worked their ways through the enemies' ranks like a single machine; Gaspard ran his sword through the hurlock as the hurlock tried to sneak up behind the templar Warden, and Alistair decapitated the hurlock that was about to jam the dagger into Levian's back. The ogre joined the fray, but the Wardens did not flinch as they fought their ways through. Alistair and Gaspard fought in tandem against the large creature.

Things were going well until the ogre, clearly annoyed by pesky puny creatures cutting into its foot, reached down and grabbed Gaspard, hoisting him into the air. Levian was locked in a battle with a genlock now, and Alistair was trying to beat off another shriek. Gelsomina nearly shrieked in fear as the ogre slammed a fist into the blond chevalier. Gaspard roared in pain but held onto his sword. Another fist slammed, then again…

A shrill spell pierced through the air like a knife, and a stone as large as the ogre's fist materialised out of nowhere, hurtling through with an astonishing speed at the ogre. It hit the ogre squarely in the head; the creature dropped the warrior, screaming in agony. Gaspard managed to land on his foot.

"Gaspard! Out! Out!" Amarina shouted. "Come back here! Now!"

Gaspard shook his head.

"That's an order!"

The Warden-Commander's tone was so absolute that it left no leeway for a no or an argument. Gaspard came, hobbling. The Warden-Commander turned toward the mage.

"Heal him." With that, she was gone as she ran into the heat of the battle.

Gelsomina made Gaspard sit, watching the battle from the corner of the eye. Rabbit sat beside her, still as a statue, his ears twitching at the slightest rustle. Amarina had jammed her blade into the ground, shouting words that were inaudible in the din, but it seemed to be a spell of paralysis as the darkspawn collectively stopped moving, as if someone had stopped their time and theirs only. The mage checked for wounds, broken bones, scrapes and bruises; apart from battered ribs, it was nothing time would not heal. She cast a healing spell on him and told him to sit still as she made him drink a restorative.

The others were doing a good job of killing darkspawn; Amarina's spell had bought them time, and Alistair had fell the ogre with one leap into the air as he plunged his sword into the eye socket. Levian had cut cleanly across the windpipe of the genlock and then had stabbed another in backhand in one move like a dance. Amarina was engaged with a hurlock, but her arcane field was spitting out lances of magical power as the hurlock closed in. On the fifth hit, the hurlock stumbled; Amarina cleanly cut through the chest with her Spellweaver, ducking to avoid the blood spraying all over her.

It was a short battle, all in all, and apart from Gaspard the injuries were mere scratches or scrapes. The three Wardens returned to where Gaspard and Gelsomina were sitting, after picking the bodies clean then burning them. Alistair was wiping away the darkspawn blood as he walked, Levian was picking the bodies, and Amarina was burning the bodies as she went with a flick of her wrist. The stench was overpowering now, with the inherent darkspawn odour added to the smell of burning flesh.

"How're your ribs?" Alistair asked as they arrived.

"Sore. But healed, I think."

"Any survivors?"

"Darkspawn? No." Alistair closed his eyes, then opened them again. "Nope. None that I can sense, anyway." He looked around. "The darkspawn haven't done too much damage, but the village needs to be cleansed. And we need to alert the other Wardens. They're going to have a busy year."

"And what do you think, Warden-Commander?"

Amarina looked worried; a frown flickered across her features, creasing her brows. She looked to the side in thought.

"What's wrong, dear wife?"

"Something similar happened when I was in Amaranthine," she explained. "Country roads getting attacked, that sort of thing. I'm hoping this is a coincidence, but…"

"There are no coincidences," Levian finished off. Amarina nodded. There might be coincidences, but she doubted it. The Blight was over. The Architect was dead. So what was it now? Why did she have this unsettling feeling?

"Shall we go?"

The train of thought broke, and Amarina re-focused. Alistair was helping Gaspard up, who winced as he stood. They all looked at her, awaiting her command. Just like always. Ever since becoming a Grey Warden, she had always been in the position of command. In the beginning she had been unsure, but commanding became easier after a few months. Now, she almost expected people to look for her guidance.

"Let's go back," she decided. "We'll send a message to Montsimmard, but we can't tarry. We must get out of Orlais as soon as possible, otherwise we'd never get to Ferelden and then to Anderfels on time. We must leave tomorrow morning." She looked at Gaspard. "Can you walk?"

"Not fast."

"Good enough. Let's go."

The five made their way back to the hostel slowly; Amarina ordered Rabbit to stay close to the Orlesian, and the dog faithfully went to Gaspard's side as he walked. Amarina was up ahead, Levian next to her. She checked to see whether the Commander was within earshot; she was not.

"Alistair?"

"Hmm?"

"She can be quite ruthless, can't she?"

The man frowned for a moment, trying to figure out who she was referring to. Then it dawned on him. "You mean, Amarina?"

Gelsomina nodded.

"I suppose. She's a mage, after all."

"I'm a mage."

"It's different."

They had entered the city limits by then, and as Alistair watched, he saw that men turned when they passed by his wife. Rain had began to fall, but she walked ahead without a hood. His wife and the woman next to him were almost opposites of each other, and he had once wondered why men seemed to be entranced by the Warden-Commander. She was not particularly beautiful amongst the elves, although she did have the trademark etherealness of all the elven. This had been before Amarina had chosen him, and it had been before he had realised his own feelings for her.

"She's pure," Zevran had said, laughing as he took a swig of brandy. "There's something very sacred about her, Warden."

"Huh?"

"She's like Andraste," Zevran explained. "Something… untouchable."

And even now, after the years of marriage, Amarina was still as ethereal as she had been, and men caught that aura; there was a mystery about her, inviolate and refusing to be sullied, and it tickled the men, challenged them to open her.

He watched from behind her as Gelsomina continued to talk, realising again that she had never looked at him eye to eye when she was naked. His thought wandered as they walked, to himself, to Cullen. Poor man; if the elf had been a bit more earthly, more carnal, perhaps the templar would not have been attracted to her. But she was innocent as others weren't, like an untouched pearl. Perhaps that was why Cullen had fallen for her.

The rain continued to fall, glistening on the cloaks like bits of crystals scattered amidst the dark wool. He looked up, wondering where they were bound to. He suddenly felt very alone, and yearned for his wife's warmth.