"At last we come to the Joining," A voice said. I looked up. Duncan was walking towards us, carrying a huge goblet.
"Knew it," Daveth whispered, also staring at the cup. I nodded in agreement. He stood straight, arms at his side and I imitated his posture, trying to look serious.
"The Grey Wardens were founded during the first blight," he said, "when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation." I listened, but knew this already. "So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint."
"We're… going to drink the blood of those creatures?" Jory gasped. I heard Daveth sigh, hand automatically going to his forehead, and I think I did the same. I guess the collection of blood and Duncan returning with an enormous goblet didn't clue him in. I wondered if Duncan had to take him because he won some tournament. It seemed… strange. I mean, I'm sure being a good fighter was the first priority, but being an idiot couldn't be an asset.
I made myself try and pay attention. Duncan explained how they had all done this, and Alistair said this was the reason they could sense darkspawn, and why they were immune to the corruption. That did make sense, I suppose. It was more logical than my idea of some kind of spell non-mages could do.
I wanted to pay attention. It seemed like such an important thing, like I would want to remember this for the rest of my life, but all I could do was stare at the goblet. That, and remind myself the rest of my life might just be the duration of the ceremony.
Duncan said… something else, something about words they always said before this, and then Alistair stepped forward and started to recite something. I forced myself to concentrate, thinking it was important. He looked at his feet while he spoke. "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." That was… actually very nice. Depressing, but nice. It reminded me of a prayer.
Picking up the chalice, Duncan called Daveth forward. I offered him a smile, trying not to look nervous. He took the cup from Duncan and drank from it. We all watched as he doubled over, choking. His eyes went white and a second later he simply… fell over. Duncan shook his head. I heard Jory gasp in horror. "I am sorry, Daveth," Duncan said. He was saying something else but I couldn't stop looking at Daveth on the ground, those strange white eyes staring off at nothing. When it became clear no one was paying attention to me I bent over and closed his eyes, briefly brushing my fingers across his mouth.
Standing up, I saw Duncan and Jory arguing. Jory was saying something about how there was "no glory in this." Even if I hadn't figured that out when they accepted, well, me, seeing the darkspawn for myself would have told me. What kind of glory could there be wallowing among that kind of filth? It was just as well, though. I don't think I was well suited to glory.
I watched them, feeling slightly dispassionate about the entire thing. I certainly couldn't claim I knew Daveth well, but having the man who slept with his arms around me last night now lying dead at my feet was disturbing beyond what I was able to really express. I'd lost many friends, of course, but this was the first time I actually saw them die, right in front of me. When friends failed the Harrowing they simply disappeared, never to be seen again. Being confronted with Daveth's corpse was quite different. I'd often heard that dead people look like they're sleeping. Having seen him in both states I could strongly contest that belief.
And then Jory pulled a weapon on Duncan. Without thinking, I grabbed my staff, tensed and ready. It wasn't needed, though. Duncan pulled out his own blade and, within seconds, Jory was dead. I relaxed even as his blood pooled out by my feet. I noticed it running across the ground, getting on Daveth. That bothered me although I couldn't quite determine why. He was dead, after all, and wouldn't care.
Duncan apologized as he lowered Jory's body to the ground. I remembered my first primal classes suddenly, many years ago. The teacher, a elven senior enchanter with bright red hair, told us on the first day "never attack someone unless you're prepared to kill them or let them kill you."
Jory could have used that lesson, apparently.
Duncan was looking at me and I realized I still had my staff in hand. I replaced it on my back. "Should have known you wouldn't need help," I said with a shrug. He gave me a strange look and held out the goblet. I hoped he didn't think I was also planning to attack him!
"You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good," he said. I looked inside it briefly, seeing something dark and viscous. It looked disgusting. It smelled worse. I drank it anyways.
Duncan said something else but I couldn't hear him. Pain ripped through me. I wanted to scream but even opening my mouth seemed impossible. Every nerve seemed to burn, I felt my heart pounding in my chest and wondered if it would simply explode within me. The agony went on and on, building until I thought this must be death, this must be the suffering of the beyond, since no human can possibly hope to survive this. If somehow it wasn't, if somehow I was still alive and feeling this, I hoped I would die soon. If I died the pain would end.
Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over. There was no gradual decrease of agony, no slow movement from pain to comfort. One moment I hoped death would come so it would just stop, and the next moment it did.
I'm dead, I thought. The pain is over so I must be dead.
I opened my eyes. A dragon looked back at me.
But it wasn't a dragon. Not really, not anymore.
Oh sweet Maker please don't let it see me don't let it see me if you're really there if you exist please please don't let it see me.
Praying never works, though. Not when you really want it to.
It looked at me. It saw me. And it roared. And that was when I finally found my voice.
A hand was on my shoulder, shaking me. I pulled in a breath, feeling my aching lungs protest. Opening my eyes I saw Duncan and Alistair looking at me, expressions of relief on both of their faces. Somehow, I ended up on the ground. "Welcome," Duncan said, helping me to my feet. I was swaying slightly. "It's finished."
I noticed the bodies were gone. "Two more deaths," Alistair said. "At mine only one died, but it was… awful. I'm glad at least one of you survived." So… this was normal, then. He looked upset and kept glancing at the bloodstain on the ground.
"How do you feel?" Duncan asked me, looking concerned.
"That was worse than the Harrowing," I said slowly, still in shock.
"Did you have dreams?" Alistair asked. "I had terrible dreams after mine." He looked almost as shaken up as I felt. It seemed like Jory's death, or the manner in which it came, upset him greatly.
"It… looked at me. The archdemon. It saw me."
Duncan explained this was normal, and said I would understand more in the days to come. Apparently even now that I'd survived the test there were still secrets. But, it was over and I was alive. Poor Daveth, though. I couldn't stop myself from glancing over to where he had fallen. I wanted to feel bad for Jory as well, but I couldn't help but think it might have been for the best in his case. I certainly wouldn't want to have my tent next to a man that would pull a sword on Duncan. Alistair gave me an amulet, a tiny glass vial with a drop off blood in it and a silver banded top. It was what remained of the blood from the chalice. After that, Duncan told me to take a moment to compose myself before going to some meeting with the king.
I went to ask him for details but he was already heading over. What would they need me at some meeting for? So everyone can watch me look confused and say something foolish? I managed to catch up with Alistair, and he just made a joke about how if I was late the king would cry so I'd better hurry. Well, that was helpful. I asked if he knew why I had to go and he only shrugged, adding "better you than me." Not very helpful…
Alone in the ruins of the chapel, I leaned against the wall, taking a few deep breaths.
It was over. It was over and I was alive. And I was an actual, real Grey Warden. Unable to control myself, I started laughing. Either the Maker had a very, very strange sense of humor, or I quite possibly had the best luck in all of Thedas. Somehow I managed to parlay setting a maleficar free into living out my childhood dream. How did that happen? Still chuckling, I headed down the stairs, walking to where Duncan said the meeting would be.
The king was already yelling when I arrived. He apparently wanted to ride on the front lines, with the Grey Wardens. We were the front lines? Oh goody. I shouldn't be surprised. I would probably be dead soon, but it wouldn't come as a surprise. But… why would the king want to be with us? Wasn't it usually wise for kings to not get themselves killed?
He then told Loghain that they should wait for Orlesian forces to help us. Not Orlesian Wardens, Orlesian forces. I think I might have actually gasped at the idea. "How fortunate Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Ferelden over to those who enslaved us for a century!" Loghain snapped at him, slamming a fist on the desk. I had to admit, I agreed. Even the Grand Cleric and Senior Enchanter Uldred both made faces at the idea. I still hadn't been able to determine why I was there. From the looks he kept giving me across the table neither could Uldred. I just kept quiet, trying not to look confused.
Oh, but then I realized what the king did. Maybe he was smarter than I thought… in an idiotic sort of way. The threat of Orlais was enough that, once gone, Loghain no longer objected to him riding on the front lines. "Duncan, will your men be ready for battle?"
"They will be, your majesty," he said. I was? I didn't feel ready for battle. I suppose I was as ready as I could be, though.
The king turned to me and smiled. Unsurprisingly I was compelled to return the expression. "I understand congratulations are in order," he said.
"Thank you, your Majesty," I said, trying to sound serious.
"Every Grey Warden is needed now, you should be honored to join their ranks."
"I am, your Majesty," I said. Loghain snapped at the king again, complaining about his obsession with legends and glory, before detailing his strategy.
I tried to pay attention, watching the little figures they moved around on a map. From what I could tell, the king and Wardens would go in first, as soon as the bulk of the horde made their move, fighting the darkspawn close to the ruins. Loghain would take position on a hill some distance away and wait until a signal, at which point they would come up behind, pinning the darkspawn between both armies. It seemed… well, like a really good idea. If the first army was able to hold their line until the second came in it seemed like it would work very well, from what little I knew of things.
They began arguing about who would give the signal then. "Send the best," the king said. "Have Alistair and… the new Grey Warden do it." A look passed between Duncan and the King. Oh, send the best, Alistair and what's her name. Just… great. It seemed clear that, even if they did consider Alistair 'the best' Duncan just wanted me kept out of the fight. Didn't he trust me? I wanted to ask, but I wouldn't do that in front of all these important people. I was a little afraid of what the answer might be.
Duncan began to remind the king of the possibility that we would see the archdemon. I pictured it in my mind and shuddered. Uldred and Loghain were both looking at me strangely, I suppose I must have had an odd look on my face. I can't really imagine what 'soul crushing terror' translated to as far as facial expressions went, but I'm sure it wasn't attractive.
"Your Majesty, the tower and beacon are unnecessary," Uldred was saying. I wasn't surprised, I had been thinking the same thing. It would be easy for a mage to shoot a fireball in the air as a beacon. I could do it myself. It seemed odd to send me to some tower to light a real fire with so many powerful mages in the camp. "The Circle of Magi—"
The grand cleric cut him off. "We will not trust any lives to your spells, mage." She didn't even bother trying to hide the disgust in her voice. Well, that would explain why I had to climb to the top of some tower. Uldred and I both glared at her, I doubt I was bothering to hide my dislike any more than he was. Our eyes met briefly after we turned away from the Grand Cleric. I knew he wasn't any fonder of me than I was of him, but at that moment I think either of us would have been happy to stand with the other if only to prove a point to that bitch. I was so caught up in that strange moment I barely noticed Loghain telling the Grand Cleric to be quiet and agreeing to the tower plan.
Oh, but then the king talked about how glorious it would all be. I shuddered. I think we all did.
And with that, the meeting was over. People began to drift away. Duncan didn't seem to need me so I walked over to Uldred. "So, you're the new Warden?" he said, looking at me with surprise. "Must say, that came as a shock."
"To you and me both," I said. "But… I wanted to ask you, when you go back to the Circle can you tell Brennan that I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to say goodbye?"
"Fine," he said, sounding annoyed. The grand cleric brushed past us and we both stopped, mid conversation, to glare at her.
"I really hate her," I said.
"Any mage with half a brain should," he replied. "She is the symbol for all our suffering." I nodded, agreeing.
"Brennan told me you had a plan," I said quietly. "The night before I ended up leaving. Whatever it is… good luck. I would have been happy to help if things didn't turn out like this." He nodded and I returned to Duncan's side.
"What did you learn?" he said.
"The king's obsessed with glory, Loghian hates Orlais, and if it was possible for two mages to hate someone to death the Grand Cleric would be a small smoking hole in the ground right now."
"Yes, I couldn't help but notice that," he said. "Nor could anyone else. You're outside their power now. Don't go out of your way to antagonize the Chantry, we prefer them to ignore us." I nodded.
Shrugging I said "I think Alistair's going to be mad he won't be in the battle. Why do you want to keep us out of it?" I looked at my feet.
"There are… reasons," he said. "You've been a Grey Warden for only an hour. I'd rather not throw you into battle so soon. It can take time to adjust to the changes." He asked me how I felt again.
"Hungry," I said, surprised. I didn't think food would be at all appealing after what I had to drink earlier, but it was almost all I could think of. The rest of my brain was occupied by a much baser urge. I didn't think Duncan had any need to hear about that, though. And I couldn't quite figure out why, either. Seeing the last man I shared my bed with dead at my feet shouldn't really make me want to go out and find someone new. I pushed it to the back of my mind, assuming it was some bizarre side effect over my joy at surviving and my worries about tomorrow.
He told me I could find food at the main Grey Warden camp, and that someone had already moved my tent. "I had another question," I said after Duncan gave me directions to the camp. He gestured for me to go on. "What happened to the bodies? Is there a pyre or…?"
"Yes, I should have told you already. The pyre has been burning nonstop since this began, you can find it at the northern edge of camp." After I thanked him Duncan left to speak with the king about something. I wandered over to the gate leading to the main army camp. The man guarding it saluted me before opening it. I looked to make sure no one important was behind me, but no, I was alone. Huh.
"Have a good evening, Grey Warden," he said before closing the gate. Well, that was… strange. I thanked him and set off to find the other Wardens.
Walking through the rows of tents I saw people drinking and arguing. One man tried to pull me to sit by his fire until he saw my staff and backed off. I finally saw Alistair standing and talking with someone, so I assumed that was the right area.
"No, she's crazy," he was saying. "You should hear her yell in battle. And she nearly ripped my head off just for pointing out that apostates are breaking the law!"
"You don't think that might be a touchy subject for a mage?" came the response. "Anyways, she's cute. Saw her just after Duncan took her from the tower. Nice eyes. I think something bad happened there, though. She was all covered in blood and had a kind of shocked look about her."
I snuck a peek, Alistair was talking to the dark-haired Warden who was at the inn where we had lunch just after leaving the tower.
"Hello?" I called. Both turned around. "This is the right campsite?"
"Yeah," Alistair said. "Your tent is the last in the row."
I nodded and walked over to it. My bag was inside. I dropped off the robes Daveth had found for me in the Wilds and walked over to the fire, helping myself to the food. Apparently most of the Wardens were already sleeping. I couldn't help but notice Alistair watching me from across the campsite, glancing at me suspiciously over the shoulder of the dark haired man. Kit, that was his name, I remembered. I tried to ignore him and finished eating quickly, cleaning up after myself and heading north.
A few soldiers were sitting on benches by the pyre. A very young priest was speaking in front of it. It was really just an enormous pile of wood, with dozens of bodies thrown on top. I suppose it was better than nothing, though. Apprentices who didn't survive the Harrowing weren't given funerals. I don't know if they burned the bodies in secret or just dumped them in the lake. Both seem equally likely. I didn't know if it was a reflection on their status, or that they didn't want to call attention to how many apprentices died in the Harrowing. Mages who died did receive services, though. I'd attended more than one for older teachers through the years. I was able to recognize the passage the priest was reading.
"My Maker, know my heart. Take from me a life of sorrow. Lift me from a world of pain. Judge me worthy of Your endless pride."
I glanced around. A man in his middle age was sitting not far from me. He looked to be struggling against tears. I was surprised he would fight so hard not to show his grief at a funeral of all places. I could hear a woman crying behind me, loudly. Glancing back I saw she was alone, arms wrapped around herself. I recognized the posture, I'd seen it on people who lost very good friends before. I'm sure I'd been in the same position myself.
Hoping I was doing the right thing I got up and moved, sitting next to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. Within seconds she latched on to me, sobbing into my robes. I put an arm around her and she remained like that for the duration of the service. "O Maker, hear my cry: Seat me by Your side in death. Make me one within Your glory. And let the world once more see Your favor." The ceremony was drawing to a close.
The woman crying into my shoulder managed to straighten up, reciting the response along with the rest of us. "For You are the fire at the heart of the world and comfort is only Yours to give."
The priest nodded, closing her book, and said she would begin again in one hour. I guess so many had died they were just burning bodies nonstop and going through the funerary rites over and over.
"I'm sorry," the woman said after the priest left. "I don't even know you."
"It's all right," I assured her. "You looked like you could use someone. That's why I moved."
She sniffed, nodding. "Thank you," she said. "My… my husband and I, we're both knights in the service of Bann Ceorlic. He was in one of the first scouting parties…" she put a hand over her mouth.
"I'm sorry for your loss," I said, understanding what she was saying. It certainly explained her grief.
"Thank you," she said. "Who did you…?"
"A… friend," I said, not quite sure how else to put it. In truth, I wasn't entirely sure why I came. I didn't know Daveth very well, and I knew Jory even less. I did know enough to realize Daveth had no family to speak of, though, and knew the other Grey Wardens about as well as I did. It seemed wrong that no one would mourn for him, so I figured I should. I knew anyone who asked was to be told they were sent home, preserving the Grey Warden secrets, so I didn't want to elaborate.
"Well, I'm sorry for your loss as well," she said. "And thank you." She stood up. "I should get back to work, though. I've been here for three services so far. He wouldn't…" she sighed. "I don't want his death to be in vain." She looked at me. "You're a Grey Warden, aren't you?" I nodded, not sure how she knew that. But… all the Circle mages were old, perhaps everyone just figured it by default. "Do you think we can beat these bastards?" She seemed to believe I would have some sort of special insight into that. I had no idea, to be honest. Perhaps the older Wardens did, but I was no more knowledgeable than I'd been before the Joining.
"Absolutely," I said quickly, not believing it entirely but figuring she was just looking for some reassurance. She nodded and left.
I got up, walking past people lingering after the last service and early arrivals for the next. Alistair was just getting up from a place in the last bench. I nodded to him. "It seemed like someone should be here," he said with a shrug. "At home I guess they usually have a service, but since we're here…"
"Yeah," I said. "I was thinking the same thing."
"How are you holding up?" Alistair asked as we walked. We were both keeping our distance from each other. I reminded myself he was probably just as uncomfortable after our argument earlier as I was.
"I'm fine," I said. "I don't really feel any different."
"You don't have to be, you know," he said. "Fine, I mean. No one will think any less of you if you're upset. We've all been through the same thing, after all. And… I know you were, um, friends with Daveth…" He looked embarrassed saying that.
"We didn't know each other very well," I admitted. "We got along. I feel bad for him. He probably would have been a better Grey Warden than I will."
"I still can't believe Duncan killed Jory…" Alistair said.
"Jory pulled a weapon on him. He didn't have a choice," I said. "What could he do, say 'oh, ok, go on and leave'? Everyone in camp would know the crazy Grey Wardens tried to make him drink darkspawn blood in like two seconds." I shook my head. "I mean, if Duncan told me I had all that to look forward to I think I would have jumped out of the boat and tried swimming back to the tower, even if they did chop my head off the second I reached land." Well, probably not. But maybe.
"No, I know," he agreed. "It was just pretty brutal to see. I'm glad I don't have to make those decisions." He glanced at me. "Although you apparently have no problem with it. Would you really have attacked him?"
"If Duncan needed help? Of course."
"Look, about earlier," he said, stopping at the edge of our campsite. I raised an eyebrow. "We're… probably never going to agree on that."
"No, I don't think we will," I said.
"It doesn't impact either of us anymore, though. We're both… outside that system. We're really the same thing, now. According to the Chantry I'm not a templar, but I have the same skills as one. Just like how, according to them, you're a Grey Warden, not a mage. So how about we just… agree to disagree and promise to never speak of it again?"
"That sounds like a good plan," I said. I'd rather he not think mages are just abominations waiting to happen, since I didn't know if that was all mages and included me, but not arguing was good. And Duncan almost definitely wouldn't want us at each other's throats.
"Good," he said, walking towards the campfire. "There's really not so many of us that I want to start making enemies among the Wardens. I'd rather be friends."
"Me too." We both took seats on a bench near the fire.
Kit walked over, squeezing between us on the bench. "Has peace been declared?" he laughed. My cheeks colored, realizing how many people must already know about my argument with Alistair. Hopefully they wouldn't dislike me immediately because of it.
I then realized I could smell brandy on Kit. After fighting darkspawn for the first time, watching two people die, the Joining itself which still made my chest clench whenever I thought of the dream, and the funeral I could really use a drink. Or several drinks.
"Got any more of that brandy?" I asked, smiling at him.
"A whole bottle!" He disappeared into a tent.
"How can you tell what he was drinking?" Alistair said.
"By the smell. I love brandy. My best friend and I found a whole case forgotten in a storeroom once, we'd sneak in and drink maybe a bottle a week…" I trailed off, thinking of Jowan off alone in Ferelden somewhere and feeling sad. "Well, it was nice," I finished lamely.
"Did… something happen to her?" Alistair asked.
"Him. And… sort of, yeah. I think he's all right now, though. Hopefully." Kit returned and handed me a bottle. I broke open the wax seal and took a generous swig. "Thanks," I said.
"Just don't tell Duncan," he said. "The battle could be called at any moment. If he catches us drinking … oh, not good."
"Don't worry about it," I told him. "I know how to sober people. So… remind me before you go to sleep and you shouldn't even have a hangover when you get up."
"What spell is that?" Alistair said.
"I don't think it has a real name. Everyone knew it, though."
We passed the bottle between the three of us silently. "Where is Duncan?" I hadn't seen him since the meeting.
"He snuck past when you two were declaring a mage/templar truce," Kit laughed. "Said he didn't want to interrupt that and went to sleep."
Alistair was the first to bow out of drinking. He swayed on his feet walking over to me. "Ok…mage. Do… magic." I laughed and raised my hand to his head. He blinked a few times with surprise. "Now that is an odd sensation," he remarked. He thanked me and stepped into a nearby tent. I decided I would keep going until I could close my eyes without seeing the archdemon or there was nothing left to drink, whichever came first. I suspected we would be throwing away an empty bottle by the end of the evening.
Poor Daveth. I hated having to kill him off.
Chant of light/in-game dialogue is bioware, obvs.
Thanks for reading and reviewing!