Chapter 11: I Am Honor

"-. Even panic can be desirable under the right circumstances .-"

Raonar would have been having a panic attack if his mind wasn't preoccupied with succumbing to desperation. "Dammit! This can't be happening!"

Gorim grabbed onto his arm and tried to snap him back into his senses. "My lord! We have to get out of here! The bridge is collapsing in on itself!"

The prince didn't budge, even as the stone construction beneath his feet cracked.

"My lord!"

Raonar pushed Gorim aside, causing him to fall on his back.

"Dammit!" His heart was racing, his head filled with a wretched mixture of denial, horror and absolute hopelessness. "Dammit! Dammit! Stop flowing you damned tears! I can't see! Fuck! Why does this have to happen? Ancestors, why is this happening?"

Another part of the bridge broke apart and fell into the abyss, a roaring rumble filling the huge caverns. He managed to keep his balance, but only barely, as his feet were rooted to the spot and his hands were shaking.

"Shit! Ancestors' mangled bones! Stop shaking you useless knees! Worthless arms, stop your trembling! Just do it, you idiot!" He bit his tongue as hard as he could, a last, desperate effort at overcoming his own terror through sheer pain. Blood flowed out of the corners of his mouth, covering his entire beard as it mixed with the rivers of tears streaming out of his eyes.

"Fuck! Fuck! Let go of the fucking bowstring, you stupid hand!"

"-. Duty does not necessarily imply that one remain permanently dull and overly formal.-"

"Marvelous! I lost him," Alim assessed in annoyance as he realized that he had failed to actually follow Raonar and had ended up in a completely different section of the Fade altogether. On the other hand, since there was a measure of spatial coordination between the world of mortals and the Fade, he could guess that he wasn't very far from where the dwarf had ended up. Granted, he didn't actually know where the other one had ended up, nor did he know what he should expect once he got there.

"Hmm..." He inspected his appearance quite meticulously and, upon realizing that he had ended up in that place just as unarmed and meagerly equipped as he was during the Joining, decided to 'remedy' this slight oversight. He willed a staff and some decent robes into being, taking special care in making them look as stylish as possible. Even in the fade, one needed to look presentable, or at least intimidating.

Now that he wore a scarlet-embroidered black robe and had a double-dragon-headed arcane staff at hand, the elf felt quite sure of himself and decided to follow the remnants of the spirit blood trail. He was quite peeved at how the dragon-shaped apparition (the one he saw after he drunk the blood) managed to knock him off course. Fortunately, the spell he had summoned to create the blood link was quite potent and there were still some remnants of the thread floating about. He reasoned that they were, obviously, the best bet of finding whatever dream Raonar had been pulled into.

He was a bit surprised at the fact that no wisps or lesser demons seemed to roam the area of the dream realm that he had arrived in. The place also looked quite orderly and solemn. He could even distinguish surreal-looking but quite accurate representations of statues of knights. In fact, instead of the inaccurate imitation of grass-covered hills he was faced with during his harrowing, the area looked more like an ancient fortress or bastion.

Much to Alim's dismay, the threads of spirit seemed to lead beyond the edge of that 'island'. This put him in a difficult position, since he didn't think he could safely levitate for very long and the trail seemed to go on almost endlessly. So he figured he would explore that area a bit more. If there were no demons about, then it was possible this part of the Fade was under the control of some other type of spirit.

Alim managed to spot what looked like a tower, or aerie, but was quite peeved at noticing that there were no stairs leading up to it, not even a door at the base of the structure. Still, he figured he would have to make his way up there, if only to get a better view of the surroundings and, maybe, spot whoever owned that domain.

He telekinetically lifted one of the larger stone slabs and used it as a platform to float all the way to the upper end of the aerie. When he finally got there, he made his way up some stone steps and neared what looked like an imposing platform. A odd-looking statue that looked like a sort of sleeping bird was on it.

Or at least he thought it was a statue, until it moved. Revealing itself to actually be a sort of cross-breed between a lion and an eagle, the creature stirred and raised its head out of its slumber. A pair of keen, eagle eyes turned to the newcomer and stared him down from above the sharp, curved beak.

Alim was a bit worried at seeing such an unusually-looking, and obviously powerful and large, spirit, and couldn't actually decide whether it really was what he thought it was. "Umm... Greetings?"

The creature slowly got to its four feet, each with four fingers that ended in sharp talons. Its entire body was covered in perfectly aligned, grey feathers and a large shadow extended around it as it spread its wings. It then flicked its ears, which also looked more like an extra set of wings than actual hearing organs, and whipped the air with its long tail a few times.

"Hmm. A dreamer, is it?" the spirit's voice echoed through the air. Alim couldn't tell how the creature could actually speak, considering that beaks weren't exactly known for their ability to produce overly articulate sounds. Not to mention that the being hadn't actually moved, let alone opened its beak even once.

The elf scratched his head, unsure of how to address what stood before him. Setting aside the fact that a shiver had gone down the mage's spine, the being looked too much like something he had heard of in stories. "Not to be disrespectful or anything but... are you a griffon?"

The spirit flicked its hears slightly and let a bird-like groan leave its lungs, just before tilted its head to the left and, once again, producing a reverberating voice whose source could not be pinpointed. "So strange you mortals are. Is it customary in your world to simply blurt out odd questions when trespassing on someone's domain?"

"I assure you, I had no intention of making it look like I was trespassing," the elf responded, somewhat uncertain of how he was supposed to behave in the presence of such a being. And, of course, there was also the fact that, even on all fours, the creature was about two meters tall and, thus, quite intimidating.

"Truly?" it asked, unconvinced. It then flapped its wings once, the air pressure strong enough to push the intruder a couple of steps back. "I was under the impression that strutting around in someone's home, without even so much as doing the owner the courtesy of introductions, is the pure definition of trespassing."

"My apologies," the dreamer requested. "Then allow me to do you this courtesy." He bowed quite reverently before the creature. "My name is Alim Surana."

The being tapped the ground with one of its talons several times and withdrew its wings. "At least your sense of duty is not completely nonexistent," it noted, quite nonchalantly.

"And, as I recall, it is now the host's cue to introduce himself, is it not?' Alim flatly pointed out.

The apparition would have probably raised an eyebrow at him if it had one. Then, its voice boomed and echoed throughout the entire so-called fortress.

"I Am Duty!"

Duty, was it? The mage had finally gotten his confirmation that this was one of the 'good', or at least neutral spirits that inhabit the Fade. He also decided to venture a hope that it would be capable, and willing, to help him track down the even more unlikely dwarf dreamer. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

Duty shook his head a few times, arranging the feathers on its neck, after which he impassively looked to the side and let his right wing glide through the air a few times. "So dutiful," he remarked as he turned back to the dreamer. "You're obviously more concerned about my intentions than you are pleased to meet me, but you still acted upon your so-called 'sense of duty' and followed protocol to the letter."

"Your sharp eyes have seen through me completely," Alim deadpanned.

"And you also seem to know that duty does not necessarily imply that one remain permanently dull and overly formal," the spirit added, sounding almost pleased.

"People that do that all the time don't usually get out of it with their sanity intact," the elf explained.

"And then they wouldn't know duty even if someone spelled it out for them," the supposed griffon concluded. After that, he stretched his two wings again, this time in satisfaction, and filled the entire area with a sharp but oddly pleasant screech. "Now then, what exactly are you looking for, little one?"

The mage was relieved to see he had finally gotten to this part. "I actually got here by accident," he began as Duty let himself lie on his belly, its forepaws crossed. "I was actually trying to find someone but got... sidetracked by a very annoying stream of telepathic waves that gave me a hallucination and threw my spell out of loop."

The griffon waved his tail around a few times and scratched the underside of its bill with one of its claws. "Go on."

"That's it," the mage simply conveyed, causing Duty to lower his head and narrow his eyes in doubt.

"Knowing your kind's penchant for epic tales, I would have expected a more dramatic exposition."

"As it happens, I don't have time for lengthy expositions as I should really be looking for that someone right now and was kind of hoping you could help me with that..." he flatly declared.

Duty suddenly got to his feet. "And what does your sense of duty say is appropriate in this situation?" he menacingly asked. He didn't give the elf any chance to respond however, as he violently flapped both wings, the strong gust of wind mercilessly throwing the mortal on his back.

"You are quite presumptuous, aren't you," the spirit let out as he jumped straight at him, catching him underfoot. Needless to say, Alim was not altogether pleased at having been stepped on, more so seeing how the being didn't seem in any way inclined to take that human-sized, claw-decorated paw off of him. " How arrogant that you would expect my assistance to be offered so easily. Perhaps you misunderstood. I am Duty. I do not have a duty, mortal, much less the duty to help you."

"And what of this then?" the elf shot back, meeting Duty's eyes as they neared on him. The griffon' sharp bill was just inches away from his face now and it took all he had to will his body into being strong enough to withstand the creature's weight. "Is it duty that compels you to assault sparse dreamers that happen to find their way here?"

"Perhaps. if their own sense of duty is misguided enough that they should earn my ire."

"And how can you presume to judge me?" the stepped-on but, interestingly enough, annoyed mortal rebuffed, seemingly unimpressed with the fact that he could easily be crushed or have his head bitten off at any moment. "You are Duty, not Justice!"

"I do not need to judge you, mortal, only your dedication," the being simply clarified.

"Hmpf!" Alim was so aggravated that he summoned all of his power and caused a shockwave to burst out of his ethereal body. Duty's hold on him was broken and the spirit took a step back as the mage got to his feet. He was entirely cloaked in raw magical power and a golden light coursed through and around him. "If you don't want to help me, just say so. I don't have time to waste here." The floor cracked under the weight of his magic and several stone slabs were lifted into the air, as if they were just a command word away from flying straight at the spirit.

Duty again flapped his wings, even more violently, but Alim didn't even budge, nor did the floating slabs. Then, the spirit actually chuckled. "And what would you expect me to actually do? Carry you on my back as you search for this mortal?" His tone was remarkably sarcastic.

"Teach me to become a griffon," he demanded.

Duty relaxed somewhat and tilted his head to the right, unsure of whether the mortal had actually meant it. "Now there is an interesting request!"

"So glad you think so."

"You are fortunate that duty does not demand teaching manners to strangers, intruders or otherwise," the griffon flatly pointed out.

"So are you going to teach me how to be a griffon or not?" the elf pushed.

Duty looked as though he was impressed by his determination, though the spirit hadn't really figured out whether it really was duty that drove the dreamer or just pure stubbornness. "You are serious aren't you. You do realize that would take a great many dreams?"

"Not if you force the knowledge into me," he suggested as he let the light emanating from him die down and the floor tiles fall back to the ground.

The spirit straightened up, in a way that only a four-legged, winged creature could. "That would be dangerous, foolish one. In fact, it may leave you without your sanity or your memory. Or both."

"It's not your duty to worry about my wellbeing, or about whether or not my will is strong enough to hold onto my mental integrity," the elf rammed.

"Indeed it isn't" the spirit agreed, though he paused and seemed thoughtful for a time. "But why would you be willing to risk this?'

"It isn't your Duty to know my exact reasons either," the other one slammed.

"Hmm..."

"You said it yourself. You only need to judge my dedication, and here it is, big enough for me to risk losing my mind as I try to accomplish what I came here to do. Is that dutiful enough for you, ever so imposing one?" The elf had crossed his arms and taken a fairly matter-of-factly attitude.

Duty straightened up again and spread out his wings wide, until their shadow covered the entire terrace on which they both stood. "And if I do this, what will you do with the knowledge?"

"If you help me, it will be because duty doesn't prevent you from doing it, not because it compels you to. So, since it'll practically be a gift, what I do with it is entirely my own business." Alim spoke those words with such perfectly barefaced practicality that the spirit couldn't help itself from filling the entire surreal fortress with a clear and booming laughter.

"Ha! I like you, mortal!" the Fade dweller proclaimed as pure, silvery magical energies started swirling around it and pervading the entire aerie. "Then ready yourself."

The mage did not exactly know what readying himself implied, especially considering the very unusual situation, and location. He didn't have time to dwell on it too much, however, as the root of feather of about a foot in length pierced his sternum.

"Guh!" he let out, though he was more startled than hurt, since he didn't exactly feel any pain. He looked at the spirit and just barely caught the lighting-fast movement of its right wing as another feather flew straight at him, its root striking him straight through his forehead and sinking all the way to the core of his brain.

Alim was immobilized, though he was completely aware of every inch of his body, some may say even better than ever before. Then, he felt as though the roots of both feathers started to grow outwards, subtle threads of magic and will spreading through his entire being. And as they did, the feathers themselves turned into a thousand spirit threads that encircled him and spread in all directions, will and raw magical power seemingly weaving around them.

He bent forward, the weave gathering behind him and forming into feathers as his scapulas grew outwards until they broke through the skin on his back. By then, his robes had disintegrated, leaving him completely bare, and his now overgrown shoulder blades finally grew into the complete set of wing bones that soon grew sinews. Finally, the many feathers swirling about them sunk themselves into the new skin in perfect order.

The shapechanging mage could not describe the sensations. With each alteration to his ethereal body, he felt his sense of identity shifting. He seemed to remember breaking out of the tough shell of an egg, his lidless eyes stung by the bright rays of the sun, though the memory could not have originated from the Fade spirit. He also remembered his very first flight and the pleasant feeling of the wind brushing though his myriad of feathers as he glided through the air. Then there was the feeling of fulfillment as he carried out his first hunt, and the satisfaction at so cleanly snatching the young antelope off the ground.

"Dammit fool! Focus!" he urged himself as he felt his true identity slipping. He gathered all his willpower and channeled it as acutely as he could muster it, his sole goal being to preserve his mind.

The bones on his hands twisted and grew, not painfully, but the feeling was quite distracting, which definitely didn't assist Alim in his effort to hold onto himself. He was soon on all fours, sharp talons going straight through the hard stone pavement. His vision blurred and, soon enough, his perception of the Fade changed to one more keen, as though he could see over far greater distances than he had ever dreamed of. The fascination caused by this newfound element almost broke his concentration. He persevered, however, and managed to steel himself even as his body grew its plumage and his tail started to cut through the air behind him with swift swipes.

Now a griffon himself, Alim let out a bellow and stretched out his wings and limbs, at once flexing every single muscle his new body possessed and finally seeing the difference between breathing through a nose and a bill. The next moment, Duty rammed into him with all his might, throwing him against the far wall.

The Fade spirit tried to strike at him with his talons, but the other one recovered and dodged to the right. Alim then flapped its wings once, in an effort to disorient his attacker, though his movements weren't nearly as sure as Duty's, who shrugged off the gust of wind and grabbed him by the throat, pinning him against the wall. It was then that their eyes met, two pairs of sharp gazers.

Alim kicked Duty in the abdomen, finally causing the spirit to shriek in pain and stagger back, after which he charged and rammed into the being with his entire weight. This only pushed Duty back a few steps, however, and when Alim tried to claw at him, the other one did the same. Both drew back as soon as their talons decorated the chest of the other with three deep cuts.

Neither could make the claim of first blood.

"Most impressive!" the Spirit proclaimed as pure magical power gathered around him and closed off his wounds. He no longer bothered to mask his sheer admiration.

Alim shone brightly and his anatomy once again started changing. Soon enough, he had once again regained his previous form and made a point of willing a new robe into being before the light of the transformation had a chance to die out completely and leave him naked. The cuts on his own chest disappeared as well. There was only a single word he could manage to say, however. "Wow..."

The griffon spirit waited for him to gather his wits and finish inspecting himself, no doubt to make sure he hadn't been left with an extra set of arms or whatnot, then continued. "I must say you surprise me mortal. You not only managed to keep your mind intact, you even managed to completely assimilate the full experience I pushed into you. Your will is particularly strong."

"Yeah..." the elf was still a bit amazed. "I feel as though I've lived through two lives instead of just one, as if I've been both myself and a griffon my entire life. And I suppose this fight just now was your way of testing that out, am I right?"

"Indeed it was," Duty cleanly confirmed.

"Those memories aren't yours, are they?" the mage then uttered. he had phrased it as a question, but it was really more of an observation.

"Duty does not compel me to explain it to you," he retorted, quite ironically.

"I see... Well... I'll have to apologize but I don't have the time to listen to this tale right now anyway. But thank you." His tone was earnest and he even gave a deep bow.

"I understand," the Spirit answered. "Duty calls after all. Perhaps we may meet again in future dreams," he then suggested, much to the dreamer's surprise.

"Perhaps... Maybe then you can tell me of the story behind the creature whose memories I now possess," the other one followed up.

"And you may finally relate to me the events that led to your appearance in my domain today," Duty added, now blissful at having gone through something interesting for once.

"-. You just thought that sounded cheesy, didn't you? .-"

Even though he was in a hurry to find whatever section of the fade Raonar had landed in, Alim let himself enjoy the incredibly awesome feeling of flying. Granted, he felt as though he had been flying his entire life, understandable given the fact that he had a full new set of memories to sort out, but no amount of repetition could ever stop flying from feeling so good. He half wished he could stay in the Fade forever, if only to be able to become a griffon whenever he wished.

He couldn't afford to keep musing, however, so he resolved to keep following the sparse trail of remnant blood-weaved spirit threads. He couldn't tell how much time had passed since he left Duty's realm, neither could he accurately estimate how long it had been since he took the Joining in the real world, seeing as how time passed differently in the two dimensions. He decided there was no time to speculate, however, as the trail suddenly stopped, even though there was nothing nearby, no fade island, no scattered dream fragments. Nothing.

Alim flew around a few times and didn't know what to do, until his beaked face slammed into an invisible wall.

"Ouch," he thought. Even though Duty had given him this body, Alim couldn't emulate the Spirit's ability to speak, at least not yet, so he had to settle for being frustrated at not being able to do more than let out an indignant groan. Then, he pecked the invisible barrier repeatedly, realizing that, since the last spirit weave hovered just a few feet away, the dwarf had somehow ended up inside that huge but totally concealed dome, or perhaps it was a sphere.

Several white tentacles suddenly appeared from beyond the unseen barrier and encircled him, not giving him even a moment's notice before drawing him in. He was now gone.

"Whoa! What was that!" he would have thought out loud had he actually had a mouth. As it was, he didn't have one, so he again had to settle for an undignified shriek as the tentacles disappeared and left him to regain his flight pattern by himself. When he finally did, he managed to shake off the panic attack he was on the verge of suffering and finally survey the area.

The rest of the Fade, including the ever ominous Black City, was as visible as it had been just before he was pulled in. Apparently, whatever barrier protected that realm was only invisible on the outside. Alim was quite intrigued, since the domain that stretched beneath him was quite huge and complex, and cloaking an entire section of the Fade was no easy task even for the more powerful beings in the dream ream.

Below him lay the most spectacular view he had ever laid eyes on. Mountains encircled the round, floating island, and a myriad of river beds came out of each peak, gradually coming together until they finally met in the very center. There, a huge, circular abyss existed, and the clear but tumultuous waters fell into it ceaselessly, forming a most enthralling, perfectly round waterfall that seemed to reach down into infinity. And just above the abyss, another, much smaller but perfectly circular platform hovered, as if looking down upon the entire domain. It was there, the mage reasoned, that he could finally get some answers. So he flew straight for it, eventually landing on the marvelously fine surface of the floating island. It looked as though it was made of out of a single, immense but perfectly level piece of white marble.

The dreamer finally turned back into his true form and scoured the area. The huge platform was mostly bare, except for seven terraces that existed on the very edges of it, forming a seven-pointed star, and each of those terraces had a strange, rune-covered pedestal on it. The floor was also decorated with unusual but quite aesthetically-pleasing symbols that seemed to cross over into each other and combine into more complex shapes. And in the centre was another, larger terrace, a few, concentric steps leading up to it. Needless to say, Alim climbed them and approached the source of an incredibly bright, white light.

The mage couldn't immediately grasp the shape of what he judged to be a being. While it looked as though it was centered around a specific point, its form continuously shifted. White, shining strands of pure energy seemed to make up most of its body, though they kept floating about and either breaking off or merging into each other. Mostly, Alim couldn't tell what he was looking at because there were no shadows to make the shapes visible, if there were any shapes there at all.

The apparition seemed to turn its attention towards him as he drew near. The many spirit strands slowed in their wanderings for a moment, as though the presence was studying the new arrival, then they began a more orderly motion and started to come together. An elegantly-dressed leg (or so it looked like, though the lack of color or shades made it hard to decide) appeared out of nowhere and took a step forward, just as the upper most energies came together and descended, allowing what looked like a head of pure light to come into view. Then, what looked like a light-wrought cape formed on the right, fluttering in the soft breeze and extending ever away, until it was about ten meters long and spiraled around the spirit, giving out a semblance of lordly countenance.

The elf could only watch in wonder at how freely that creature could change its form, and how calmly it did so.

The being of pure light took another step forward, through the 'leg' didn't seem as though it ever actually left the ground. In fact, the foot seemed to actually go straight through the floor, almost as if it was part of it. That instant, Alim remembered how he had been pulled into what he now recognized as that creature's domain and theorized that, in fact, that presence may actually be pervading its every inch.

The spirit again stepped forward, bright rays of light giving way to a pair of arms to materialize, until, finally, a vaguely humanoid entity made of shadowless will stood before the new arrival. The latter was completely speechless, however, so it fell to the being to actually break the silence.

"I bid you welcome, dreamer." The voice was calm and warm, but sounded like a thousand, genderless echoes from both the past and the future. It was at once solemn and all-encompassing and, even though it didn't cause him any sort of auditory discomfort, the elf realized that the greeting had been heard perfectly on every inch of that floating platform.

"... Greetings..." he replied in awe. "I take it you're the... owner of this place?"

Subtle strands of bright power started to grow out of the spirit's left shoulder and broke off, only to start swirling around his arm. "If by 'this place' you mean this dream, then yes," the being confirmed. The aforementioned strands seemed to tie around the being's wrist, forming a sort of scarf or belt that simply hovered about.

Alim didn't really know what the being was but decided to think of it as a 'he', for now. "Oh, right!" he stuttered, as if remembering something important. Then he bowed as deeply as he could. "I am Alim Surana," he declared.

The end of the cape-like formation that floated around the apparition started to again divide into multiple strands as the Spirit indulged in a short but amused, reverberating chuckle. "You did that greeting as though it was a means to ensure you would somehow avoid going through some sort of unpleasant experience," he then noted, just as his pure white, shining 'hair' started to continuously change its length for no obvious reason.

"Well, actually, I did go through a rather... harrowing experience not too long ago," he admitted. "And it was mostly because I hadn't introduced myself to someone with a particularly odd view of duty... and he had claws."

Pure, white power started coming out of the ground just to the left of the bright entity, eventually taking the shape of a foot-sized hybrid between a lion and an eagle, though it took a while before Alim recognized that shape, obviously because of the same shadowless nature that made it difficult to actually see shapes, if there were indeed any. "Did that someone look like this?' the white presence inquired, quite rethorically.

"Yes, actually..." Alim confirmed, though he knew there was hardly a need.

The griffon-like light sculpture dispersed, leaving only random, shining threads floating about. "And yet he consented to teaching you that form. You should be glad, Duty can be quite radical."

The newcomer winced at that, since he had become quite intimately acquainted with that truth. "So, may I ask who you are now? Or did I miss some sort of spiritual protocol that no one had the courtesy of explaining to me?'

Another chuckle was heard, just as the cape-like light completely divided into symmetrical strands and receded somewhat.

"I am Honor."

Even in spite of the incredible air of might that the spirit emanated, Alim couldn't keep himself from thinking how incredibly cheesy that sounded. Unfortunately, much to his dismay, the apparition picked right up on that.

"You just thought that sounded cheesy didn't you?" he uttered, an amused flick of his fingers causing the ever so shining mantle strands to retreat behind his back.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean t- Hey, did you just read my mind?"

Honor let out a clear laughter, like a thousand bells had just been struck at the same time, and a pair of wings grew from his back and extended over the entire terrace for a while. After that, they broke off into thousands of shadeless feathers that fluttered away, once again becoming one with the scenery, though some continued to float and hover around both of them. "No, I did not," he clarified. "The look on your face just seemed to suggest you thought that."

The mage was somewhat surprised, since he thought he was better at masking his thoughts. "It can't have been that obvious..." he protested, though he stuck to a calm and low voice.

Pure energy gathered around Honor's right shoulder and formed into a pauldron, out of which the same type of light flowed and materialized into what could be considered a cloak. "Indeed, you were not, but neither were you as subtle as the only other person to have thought that very same thing. Granted, he didn't really try to hide it for very long, seeing as how he practically blurted out that opinion just a second later."

Alim stared at the spirit for a moment, the odd look on his face hinting at the fact that he actually thought he had an inkling of who 'that person' was. "Speaking of that, I actually came here looking for someone."

"Yes, I know," the being deadpanned, for once not changing its appearance overmuch.

"Really..." the mage debated, completely unconvinced.

Honor took another step forward, light forming into a cane in his left hand. "Why so incredulous? It was, after all, I that pulled you in here."

"Well then, why did you?" the elf pried.

"Raonar said 'It's okay. Let him in'," the Spirit rammed.

This was the point where Alim was thrown off track and he was forced to actually take a closer look at everything that had happened. For one, he had no idea how he had been pulled into the realm exactly and he was quite sure that there was a very high chance that he would not have found a way inside the gigantic sphere all by himself. Then, he met this incredibly intriguing Fade dweller that seemed to be defined by the concepts of absolute and sublime brilliance and sophistication. And now, that same being had actually called Raonar by his given name, with an unmistakable air of familiarity that he would never have expected in a spirit, much less one that actually seemed to be beyond his understanding.

"Wait... so he's here somewhere?" the elf finally managed to stutter.

Honor appeared to lean on one foot, his opposite hand resting on his cane in a very detached manner as his cloak glided through the air. "This is his dream after all."

Again, the mage was forced to increase his list of "Reasons why the Fade can irk you beyond all limits." He even considered writing a book about it once he woke up. "Wait, so you're saying he created all this?"

An air of candid amusement passed over the spirit as it quaintly took hold of a sparse, brilliant feather that had floated close enough to his right hand. "Come now, you know mortals, save mages, can barely create anything here, especially dwarves that shouldn't even be able to enter the Fade in the first place. It was, of course, I that brought this realm into being."

"So..." The elf decided it was faster to just skip ahead and leave the explanations for later, if they needed to be made at all. "He's here? I don't see him anywhere..."

"He is in this realm, yes," Honor confirmed, the feather that danced around his fingers turning into a top hat that he idiosyncratically placed on his head, though shadows still did not appear on any part of his 'body', much less his 'face'.

"You're the one who pulled him in, aren't you?" the Magus finally deigned to ask up front.

The cloak that Honor 'wore' shifted and took a form more akin to that of an overcoat as he brought both his hand together and rested them on the top-most pommel of his cane. "Yes, it was I, though it was difficult. I had to cope with interference from a rather intense stream of telepathic waves that almost shattered his psyche, and he landed in a rather far off section of this plane."

"Wait," the dreamer interrupted as he scratched his forehead. "So, you pulled him in... to protect him..."

"Yes," the spirit said as he spun the cane between his fingertips, finally resting its tip on the marble floor once more. "Why do you look so surprised?"

"Not to sound ignorant or anything," he warily tried to explain, "but you spirits aren't exactly known for your eagerness to jump in and interfere with the affairs of mortals."

"Now that sounded as if it was taken directly out of a textbook," Honor's thousands-in-one-type of voice candidly pointed out as he tapped his cane against the marble once, causing multiple strands of light to grow and come together in the shape of a lectern. Then, he picked up what looked like a light-bound tome and pretended to, or really did read from it. "Unlike demons, benevolent spirits do not wish to cross the veil, and their benevolence does not mean that they will go out of their way to help the mortal world." The spirit's voice was overly lecturing, as if he was trying to prove a point.

"Alright alright, I get it!" Alim couldn't stop himself from uttering, though he was somewhat amused that the Spirit of Honor was just as non-fond of preachy schoolmasters as he himself was.

The tome and lectern turned into glittering light dust and disappeared with the wind, just as Honor leaned on his other foot with his free hand resting on his hip. "So why did you come looking for our mutual friend?" he asked the guest.

Alim decided to leave asking why Honor thought of Raonar as his friend for later. "I was worried he had been pulled in by something... less benevolent and hoped I'd be able to track him down and bring him back," the magus replied, quite directly and with no noticeable amount of dishonesty.

The light coming from Honor seemed to grow a bit brighter, though the elf couldn't really understand how it could possibly get any stronger than it already was. Then, the spirit's top hat decomposed into several strands of pure energy that fell and formed into a scarf around his neck. "I see. Intriguing. I would ask why you would risk this after knowing him for but two of your weeks, but I doubt there is a need."

"Indeed?" the Magus gave out, no longer bothering to contain his skepticism. "You seem to be remarkably well informed."

The brilliant scarf grew in length and started to flutter. "I took the information out of his memory."

Alim raised an eyebrow at that, though the pieces of the puzzle did start to come together. For one, having a relationship with a Fade spirit seemed to explain pretty much every odd thing that Raonar had done since he left the Deep Roads. Granted, the whole 'Tear in the Veil' status was still not completely explained, but it was quite obvious that, at the very least, the dwarf's ability to influence darkspawn taint had something to do with this oddly detached dweller of the beyond. "Okay, I know I'll probably miss out on something by skipping ahead, but just what's with your interest in Raonar anyway?"

Honor's overcoat shred into a myriad of strands of light and came together once again, forming into what looked like a set of heavy plate armor. "He and I came to an arrangement, some time ago," he vicariously explained.

Now it was the mage's turn to tilt his head to the right in disbelief. "Really... Setting aside the fact that a dwarf shouldn't even be able to enter the Fade, much less come into contact with spirits, why would you do that? And what kind of deal was it? What did it imply?"

Honor's armor softened and reformed into a loose-fitting but somehow completely proper robe that extended outwards. "One question at a time," he requested as he leaned on the cane held in his left hand. Then, he turned his attention to the side. "Ah! And It seems you may actually get your answers directly from him."

Alim had finally gotten a good enough reason to turn his gaze away from the magnificent being that stood in front of him. He looked in the direction that Honor's 'face' was directed at, and saw how one of the seven far-off terraces became filled with magical energy. The light show eventually died down and a short, bipedal individual appeared. He was dressed in a white shirt and loose-fitting trousers and wore a pair of well-fitting leather boots, though they were also white somehow. The elf immediately recognized him, though he could not miss out on the obvious fact that there was something distinctly different about his appearance.

"Yo!" Raonar greeted the newcomer as he tactfully walked up to the two. "How interesting to find you here, in this little dream of mine."

The fact that the 'dream' was hardly small aside, that sentence would usually take him by surprise, but the mage had been through so many weird things that day that the novelty of the entire situation was completely wasted on him.

"Hello Honor," Raonar added as he looked at the fade dweller.

"Hello," the thousand-in-one voice just said back.

"You are incredibly odd, you know that?" Alim declared with a tint of frustration. "Being pulled into the Fade is one thing, but how can you even tell this is a dream, let alone navigate it?"

The dwarf shot him a raised eyebrow. "Well, I actually can't. Honor told me. That and, of course," he lifted up on of his beard braids "there is the fact that I am blond."

"And your eyes are dark blue," the other one added, trying to enforce his point.

"Yes, I thought as much..." The dwarf looked to the side, as if scouring the horizon, then he brushed aside one of the brilliant floating feathers that had gotten close enough to tickle his nose.

"What happened anyway?" the mage prodded.

Honor's brilliance retreated somewhat and his robe reformed into an overflowing cape, but it was the bearded one that responded. "I was about to die so Honor pulled me into the Fade in order to take over my body."

Alim was stunned for a moment, but was able to quickly put the pieces together. "So... you were going to die in the Joining?"

"Yes, I was," he simply confirmed with his hands behind his back.

The elf humored the thought that perhaps his first impression that Raonar wasn't Grey Warden material was on the mark. Then he remembered the incident in the Brecilian Forest, among other things, and realized that there was something else in play that he did not know about. "So will I ever find out the story behind all this?"

The prince looked thoughtful for a moment, as though he was considering whether or not he actually wanted to tell that story. After a while, he turned his gaze towards the Fade Spirit. "How much time do we have until my body recovers?"

Honor leaned on his cane as his brilliance shapeshifted, until he was dressed in a pure white tuxedo. "It will still take some time."

"Hmm..."

"In the meantime," the spirit continued as he slid the tip of his cane across the floor. "Perhaps we should have some tea?" The cane drew a circle on the ground, a trail of swirling light growing and shimmering, until it consolidated into a round surface that rested on a single supporting pole in the middle. It was made of the same solid marble and looked as though it was part of the same chunk as the entire floating island. Honor proceeded to tapping the surface of that table in multiple places, pure will materializing into a the full set of porcelain cups and teapot that one would expect to see in such a pastime.

"Awkward..." the mage remarked as he couldn't stop himself from thinking how totally strange it was to be having tea in the Fade.

Raonar said nothing, instead allowing himself to sit on one of the three armchairs that had taken form next to the tea table. Honor did the same, catching another floating feather and once again transforming it into a top hat. In the end, Alim decided there was no point in wondering about the logic of what was happening and simply joined the others.

Honor waved his cane ever so slightly, causing the silver teapot to float and pour the sweet liquid into the three cups in turn. A pleasant fragrance filled the area as it seemingly began to rain harmless but entrancing spirit sparks. "You know you don't necessarily have to tell that tale," the being reminded the dwarf dreamer.

"No, it's fine. Since he risked coming all this way, it's the least I can do," the other one replied as he took a cup into his hand and let the small plate beneath it rest on his lap as he leaned against the back of his armchair. He then stretched and crossed his legs, thoughtfully looking into the distance while taking a sip. The taste was magnificent. Honor definitely knew how to will tea into being.

"Why are you acting so melodramatic?" Alim asked as he took a hold of his own teacup.

"Just because," he deadpanned, barefaced. "Anyway, I suppose I should at least find a beginning," he went on to saying. Then he paused, as if trying to sort things out in his head. "You already know I participated in an expedition into the Deep Roads about four years ago, right?"

Alim took a sip of the tea and decided it was the best he had ever tasted. "Yes, and that you somehow changed during it."

"I wasn't supposed to participate," he finally started to relate. "I actually disguised myself as a common soldier and snuck off under the alias Rao. Yes, it was an obvious Alias, but people can be remarkably oblivious to the obvious and I actually enjoyed seeing them so. Mostly I kept to myself and tried to make sure Gorim wasn't too obvious about being my second. Back then, though, I wasn't how I am right now by a mile."

"I take it you're talking about something other than your odd hair color, weird eyes and penchant for completely ruining people's spellcasting?" the magus mercilessly spoke.

Honor leaned back against his own chair and let his cane rest on his knees as he placed one leg over the other, though he did not intervene in the discussion.

"Yes, I meant something else. I was actually more of a scout instead of a warrior. I was even a pretty good shot with the bow. I just marched alongside everyone else for a few weeks, though, since not having an actual identity also deprived you of any sort of background and, thus, reputation." The dwarf sipped some more tea. "Until our scouting party didn't return one day, that is."

Alim raised an eyebrow but decided to just wait.

"My father's coddling finally showed some use just then. Since he had pretty much not allowed me to leave the uppermost level of the Diamond Quarter in my life, even though I was already almost 19, most everyone in the city did not actually know what I looked like. This included the leader of said expedition, and I was able to convince him I was someone else. I volunteered to go ahead and scout alone, though Gorim predictably offered to accompany me. The commander reluctantly agreed. Later, the two of us found the previous party dead and being chewed on by a pack of deep stalkers. Gorim and I took them out and collapsed a weakened tunnel over their lair. After we got back and reported the situation, I was promoted to scout leader and left in charge of scouring ahead of the main troops and reporting on which paths could and should be taken."

Honor had a brilliant bow tie appear on the collar of his tuxedo and started to spin his top hat between his fingers. The Mage just drank some more tea and listened attentively.

"After a few days, I had already become one of Baizyl Harrowmont's advisors, that was the commander by the way, and participated in every strategy meeting and debate concerning where to go next. The expedition was actually going rather well and very few men had been lost along the way. It was around the start of the second half of the first month in the Deep Roads that things really got interesting."

"Interesting how?" the elf pried.

"Interesting for me personally," the exile clarified as he clinked the small teaspoon against the mouth of the cup. He then looked inexplicably melancholic for just a moment, though the exact expression could not be perfectly made out because of how the light emanating from Honor fell on his face. "There were a few women among the troops and one of them recognized me."

Honor leaned against the other arm of his chair and gently struck Alim's cup with the end of his cane, causing the tea inside it to replenish.

"She took me to the side one evening and told me that to my face," the now golden-haired dreamer continued as his own cup once again filled with tea on its own. "I recognized her as well. She was one of the better female fighters in the city, though far more attractive than most every other woman I had ever seen. She had dark, loose hair that hung in front of her face slightly, and a round face that just made her deep, brown eyes stand out even more. I had defeated her, barely, in the final bout of a Glory proving just a short while prior to my mother's death."

"You barely beat her?" the magus repeated, obviously mistrustful of that sentence.

"I wasn't always a master at arms, you know," the other one pointed out as he leaned his chair slightly backwards, his heels resting on the edge of the table and the right leg resting on top of the left one. "I didn't even like to wear anything heavier than medium armor back then. Anyway, she was really good at what she did... and she knew how to do a lot of things..."

Alim couldn't possibly not notice the wistful expression that covered the dwarf's face just then and inevitably deduced what would follow.

"Yes," Raonar confirmed as he guessed the other Grey Warden's thoughts. "This is one of those incredibly cliched stories where the 'hero'," the word was pronounced with an astounding degree of sarcasm, "winds up with one of the only female characters in the tale and both fall madly in love." He paused, staring into the depths of the tea cup he was holding in his right hand. "And she knew her way around a lot more things that just her sword too... We actually ended up teaching each other tricks when we-"

"-We can't possibly be having this conversation!" the robed one cut him off as he was at once astounded and alarmed at possibly hearing something that could never be unheard.

Raonar threw him an annoyed look. "Seriously. You're a blood mage. As in, you can control other people's, and, by extension, women's actions. Need I say more? Don't tell me you've never had any naughty thoughts yourself."

Alim shrugged, though he decided not to challenge that statement, not just because it was a perfectly logical observation but also because the thought had, in fact, crossed his mind several times in the past.

"So yes, we fell for each other and slept together on multiple occasions, though not as often as we may have liked... She was a fiery one... Fine, I'll stop it," he relented as the elf frowned at him. "This went on for almost two months. She even became a permanent member of my scouting party and never revealed my identity to anyone else. There was also an incident with a kid that also recognized me and almost died while following us. I had to carry him on my back for hours as we hurried back to the main body of the military force. But that's besides the point," he took another sip from the tea cup and shot Honor a glance.

The spirit flashed lightly, weaves of power forming around his chair, but said nothing, settling for just fiddling with his ever present cane.

"You know," the dwarf's expression was colored by a wry smile as he started to stroke his beard. "She's the one who actually came up with this beard style. Yeah, she had excellent tastes. I didn't pay much attention to it but she just went over my head and arranged it like this in my sleep one night, after she had made sure to wear me out as utterly and completely as she could. I swear, that woman had some serious endurance."

The elf couldn't contain himself and burst forward, disgorging whatever tea he had just sipped, almost dropping the cup of tea on the stone floor. "Dammit dwarf... seriously!"

"Alright alright... So she came up with this beard style that Lord Pyral Harrowmont and, later, a whole drove of other nobles shamelessly copied," he finally concluded. A long silence followed after that, and Raonar looked as though he didn't know what to say next, or didn't want to for some reason.

"Her name was Leandra Untaam, by the way."

Even aggravated as he was, the sharp-eared one couldn't possibly fail to pick up on the fact that the speaker had just formulated that sentence while using past tense. His eyes widened as he finally realized why the one in front of him didn't seem at all enthusiastic about the whole storytelling. "You don't have to tell me everything at once," he concernedly told him, surprised at himself for so earnestly saying that.

"Bah," the prince let out, again looking away as he leaned his armchair backwards even deeper. "It was four years ago. if I hadn't gotten over it by now, I would have been way too pathetic." He stirred the tea with his spoon for a while. "Yes, this is one of those incredibly cliched stories where the 'hero' ends up losing the one he loved in an ever so epic way."

Alim turned his gaze away from the other dreamer and looked at Honor for a moment, noticing that the spirit himself was shining irregularly and had let his cane rest against the floor. The many strands of will and power moved incredibly slowly now, as though the Spirit was trying to be as nonintrusive and non-distracting as possible.

"What happened," the mage predictably inquired, though he wasn't altogether convinced he should prod him so. "Was she killed by darkspawn?"

Raonar scoffed and looked disgusted for an instant, though he tried to shift his gaze in another direction in order to conceal that reaction. "No... The darkspawn definitely didn't kill her, no."

The mage naturally noticed that the story teller had used the definitive article, and this meant that the darkspawn were still probably involved in some way.

The dwarf put a look on his face that was so dark that even the sunrays coming out of Honor couldn't obscure it completely. The spirit bent forward and let his shadowless hands rest on the table, but his echoing, booming voice was not heard.

"Things were bound to turn bad sooner or later. We eventually reached an ancient Thaig, in whose middle was a huge rift whose bottom could not be seen. Over it was a large bridge, carved into the stone. Our expedition crossed it and decided to set up camp on the far end, with just a few meager traps around the encampment. Idiots, all of them. They had grown overconfident because of how smoothly the mission had gone up to that point." He tapped the bottom of his teacup against the plate underneath it a couple of times. "We were swarmed by hundreds of those monsters while everyone, except for a few sentries, was asleep. The traps managed to send out the alarm signals and the troops got wind of what was happening soon enough, but by the time they did, our pack of brontos, the animals that carried all the supplies, had already run off."

Even though he hardly knew anything about military command, Alim could easily discern that an army without supplies is not exactly in a good position.

"Fortunately, in their madness, some of the animals broke their harnesses and, thus, not all of our equipment was lost. We took it and retreated over the bridge, setting up magical charges behind us in a last effort to shake off the beasts by destroying the bridge itself. Some of us died while holding a meat wall at the far end, knowing they would have to remain behind so that the rest of us might flee. Gorim, Lea and I weren't among them, since out duties were different. In the confusion, I couldn't keep track of everything and was even forced to take it upon myself to light the fuses when the one assigned to it got killed by a darkspawn's arrow."

The listeners waited for the storyteller to drink some more tea and clear his throat. "Then I heard her call out to me, and the worst part was that the shout came from toward the horde, not the other way. I looked back and saw her as she was trying to shake off a group of hurlocks that had swarmed her all at once for some reason. She had fallen behind, but the charges were already set."

Honor's top hat dispersed into strands of energy and eventually scattered as he again leaned back against his chair. Alim just listened, no longer drawing his eyes away from the dwarf. Raonar's face was so obviously colored in grief that the other one could barely even imagine what would follow.

"I can see it even now," he stared at his palms. "The middle section of the bridge had already been destroyed, and the rest was gradually crumbling. She hadn't made it across. She was stranded there, along with just a few others that were being cut down one by one. But what was worse was that the darkspawn were trying to drag her off. Dammit, why were they dragging her off? I still don't know, even today." A faint nuance of rage almost surfaced, but the impulse faltered in the face of hopeless sadness. "'Rao, don't let them take me' she cried out as they grabbed her by both arms. I knew what she meant. She could well see there was no way I could get to her."

As realizations finally materialized, Alim's eyes widened in shock.

"I did tell you I was a pretty good shot with the bow back then," he wryly reminded the other dreamer. "Such vivid memories. My knees shaking. My arms trembling. Gorim yelling at me, telling me that the bridge beneath my feet was cracking. My hands refusing to let go of the bowstring as she looked at me and begged me to not let those things take her alive."

Alim couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I was crying like an idiot. I was so pathetic." He practically threw the teacup and plate back on the table, though they somehow managed to land properly. "I bit my own tongue to get a grip on myself. And as my arrow sunk into her heart, she looked at me, and the look in her eyes only begged me to forgive her for having had to make me do that. And as she died, drowning in that regret, I couldn't even put on a strong face to make it easier on her."

The elf mage stared at Honor in shocked silence, as though he wanted a hint as to what to say. But the tuxedo-wearing Fade Dweller had simply crossed his arms and his radiant shape no longer shifted.

"I still don't know what the darkspawn wanted to do to her," he revealed, though there was hardly anything in his voice except calm grief.

The mage couldn't bear with it anymore and decided that stating the obvious was better than not saying anything at all. "It would probably have been a fate worse than death."

"I haven't touched a bow since..." he added, drawing a surprised sideway glance from the robed one. "I probably never will. There's just no right choice in a situation like that. And yet, In the end, it was still me that killed her."

"You can't still be blaming yourself for that!" the mage protested as he got agitated.

"I am not blaming myself for her death per se, weren't you listening?" Raonar surprised him. "I'm pissed off because I didn't give her a quick and regretless end. Yes, I know, it's stupid to still be affected by this four years later, but there it is." He got up and walked away a few steps, again studying the horizon of Honor's domain. "Bah, it does not matter. This isn't what you wanted to know anyway."

Alim finally realized that that story definitely did not explain anything about why the dwarf noble was so... odd in the mortal world.

"it was what happened immediately after the bridge event that led to my weird condition," he began once again, as if he was forcefully trying to turn the flow of the conversation in another direction. "The section of the bridge me and Gorim were on also crumbled, and we fell into the abyss."

Alim also got up, so Honor did the same and the tea table, along with everything on it, broke apart into thousands of spirit particles that filled the air with their enthralling glitter.

"We tried to run, to jump over the chasm, but it was too late. There was also the fact that my mind almost shut down from the shock. I don't know how, but Gorim spotted a hole, like a cave, in the cliff on the far end of the bridge section we were on as it started to descend into the bottomless rift. He managed to punch my senses back into me and we both went for it, hoping we would be able to jump at it in time. We managed to reach that big hole, only to find it was a remarkably abrupt but smooth tunnel. We fell and slid, and rolled, for Ancestors know how long. In the end, we woke up and found ourselves to be lying on the ground, though we had no idea where we had winded up."

Light strands again started to swirl as Honor's tuxedo shifted and tuned into what looked like an elaborate royal vestment, though the light pervading it was as brilliant and shadow-removing as ever.

"We were bruised and tired, and hungry. Still, we pressed on, for lack of a better idea, and followed whatever tunnels we could until we entered an immense dome within the foundations of Thedas itself. It was filled with huge, intricate veins of the purest lyrium on all sides and a strange power seemed to pervade it."

Honor stepped up and was now closer to the other two than he had ever been before. Then, he spoke words that almost caused the Magus' jaw to drop to the floor. "The former lair of Zazikel, Old God of Chaos and Archdemon of the Second Blight."

"Wha-"

"Don't react like that, please, at least try not to be so shamefully predictable," the currently blond dwarf flatly requested, though he was only given a look of absolute stupefaction. "It really wasn't much. Just a big place with a lot of 'pure' darkspawn taint floating about, a tear in the Veil the size of a house and a really nasty thing that almost sucked all the life out of Gorim and me as we non-inexplicably lost consciousness."

"Whoa whoa!" the mage let out, shaking his hands in agitation. "Slow down! This is not exactly easy to take in all at once! Archdemon lairs! Are you kidding?"

The ex-Aeducan sighed, but actually appeared slightly amused. "Well, Archdemons have to be waiting somewhere for those things to find them. And you do realize Zazikel died centuries ago right? There was hardly anything of epic proportions left in that place."

"Except for a Sloth Demon," Honor corrected as he again leaned on his cane, a royal cape once again fluttering behind him.

"That's hardly epic, Honor," he countered.

"Whoa! Just... WHOA!"

"What?" Raonar queried in feigned bemusement.

"Archdemons! Sloth Demons! You really don't think this is all a bit too unbelievable?"

"Well, how believable is it for a dwarf to be a Tear in the Veil and to be suddenly pulled into the Fade by the Spirit of Honor who, by the way, never lies?"

Alim finally managed to shut his gaping maw. "Pfah! You always have a point, don't you?"

Honor let out a blinding flash of light in order to put a stop to that exchange of lines. "The Sloth Demon was just the pawn of a particularly aggravating Pride Demon that had usurped my domain," he slammed.

"Wha..."

"Indeed," Raonar enforced, barefaced.

The mage was stunned beyond belief. "Right... I think I'll just... become a griffon and... fly waaay over there now."

"For someone with a will strong enough to resist Duty's intrusion, you certainly get stupefied easily," the spirit teased as it had its cape divide into a set of symmetrical strands of pure will once again.

"That you are peeved, Spirit, is so not my problem," Alim blabbed.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to know," Raonar flatly noted.

"This is insane!"

The prince bent his head to the left, frustration almost visible in the look in his eyes. "Need I remind you that my entire life has been one string of madness after another? Did you already forget the chain of events involving me stabbing my brother, for his own good of course, that got me out of Orzammar?"

"Damn! Why do you always have a point? Why can you expose me to such maddening situations and still be the one who has a point?"

The dwarf couldn't stop a chuckle from leaving his lungs. "Faren would probably say 'I'm just funny that way.'"

"This isn't funny at all!" the other one challenged, crossing his arms in annoyed frustration and only barely restraining himself from zapping Raonar's face with lighting.

"(sigh)"

All of them paused for a time, letting the elf sort out his thoughts and finally restore his composure. Now, he was again willing to listen to the rest of the story. "Okay, so what happened next? I assume the Sloth Demon trapped you in a dream or somesuch."

The currently blue-eyed dwarf put his hands behind his back and looked straight at the floor for a moment. "A... dream, yes..."

Honor started shining brighter, drawing the mage's attention. "The Pride Demon had enabled that minion of his to cross the Veil through that particularly large crack. The purpose was for it to channel the inexhaustible energy of the lyrium back into the Fade through its own being. It was that energy that empowered the demon to overpower me and imprison me in the bowels of my own realm."

"Gorim and I were lucky though," the dwarf took the word as he looked up to his listener. "Since I had just suffered a particularly serious trauma, Sloth decided to act on his own, without his master's consent, and pulled me into a different dream. Apparently, demons really have a taste for intense emotions. Ironic isn't it? That the fact I had just had my lover die in front of my eyes actually worked out in my favor, odd though it may sound."

The elf was listening most intently, having resolved to at least not miss a single detail by blurting out anything unnecessary.

"And it could be said that it worked out in my favor as well," Honor added as his royal vestments shifted into a particularly intricate suit. "Though I was sealed, I was able to reach out to him and show him that it was an illusion. Then, we came to an arrangement that got us both out of that unfortunate situation."

Raonar again took the word. "The Pride Demon did as proud men always do and underestimated Honor. He was able to get through the dream created by the Sloth Demon and release my consciousness from it. Then I awoke, slew the demon's physical form and jumped into the Tear in the Veil myself."

Alim frowned at those words, since doing something like that isn't particularly healthy. "Why?"

"Because it enabled Honor to use my body much in the same way that the Pride Demon used his minion's," he explained.

"I partially possessed him," Honor rammed, stunning the other, "And directly tapped into the limitless supply of magical power that those lyrium veins carried. It was somewhat difficult to focus as the energies began to swirl and gush, but I was able to eventually bring them under my control and used them to engage the Pride Demon again on equal footing. I bested it quite easily, now that it had lost its dishonorable advantage, and it cowardly crossed the Veil through that very same crack in order to escape retribution."

"Of course, my own resistance to magic is what let me survive that process," Raonar pointed out. "Though I ended up losing it immediately afterwards."

The mage decided he just had to say something. "This tale ranks at the top in terms of how unbelievable tales can get, but go on."

"I did tell you that that place was thick with darkspawn corruption? Well, apparently, and ever so surprisingly, me and Gorim, who had almost been drained lifeless by Sloth already, had become very much infected with it. Really, we weren't supposed to survive."

Honor took a step to the side, his cane tapping against the marble a couple of times. "And the crack in the Veil put me and my realm at risk. So we struck a deal."

"I allowed him to anchor the Tear in the Veil in my body."

"And I drew all the taint inside of him and sealed it," Honor finished.

"My body became a permanent link between the Fade and the re... mortal world. That's how I became so weird, both in looks and in my odd ability to cause people's spells to blow up in their face. Granted, healing magic also has trouble working on me, so it's not really an advantage. And then I drained the corruption out of Gorim th-"

"-The same way you drew it out of Theron in the Brecilian Woods..." Alim realized, finishing the sentence himself. "This... this is unbelievable but... it makes absolute sense at the same time...Except for one thing... Why did your body react so negatively when you saved Theron?"

"Even I have limits," the fade Spirit unexpectedly uttered. "It was never Raonar that drew the taint out, it was I, and I only did it because his honor, and mine, demanded it. Keep in mind that we fade Spirits, like demons, don't exactly know much about this darkspawn taint, so sealing it in the bowels of his being was the best I could do. That taint drawn out of the elf was, shall we say, the drop that caused the glass to spill."

The Magus finally understood. "This whole talk worries me... just how much of that corruption has this guy (points at the dwarf) been carrying around with him all these years?"

"A lot..." the one that had been pointed at answered. "And that's why my muscles turned to shreds when I tried to help Kallian earlier. My body genuinely did almost break apart."

The three waited, silently, for a few moments, then the dwarf figured he would finish the story.

"So now you know the story. I had to realize that I was using Lea as an excuse to feel sorry for myself, in order to escape the dream. I gave up my pride to get understanding. I let my anger die to starve the demon and give Honor the leeway he needed to shatter the dream and grant me freedom. And after I destroyed the demon and tipped the scales, I gave up my magic resistance, part of what made me dwarva, so that I may survive." His tone could not exactly be made out.

"After that happened, I took Gorim, unconscious as he was, and carried him on my back for a time as I tried to track down the army. After he woke up, we managed to move faster and eventually found the brontos. We gathered them up and led them out of there, eventually picking up the army's trail. We found it just as it had been again swarmed by a large group of monsters. So I mounted one of the larger brontos and had Gorim use a fire bomb to scare the others and send them into a fit of panic. Then, I and my mount charged ahead, the tip of a stampede of sorts. It was quite satisfying to see mangled genlocks and hurlocks so artistically flying about. After the battle was over and almost no one of our own had died, because I had so epically arrived just in the nick of time of course, Gorim accidentally let out a "Your Highness" as he addressed me and that blew my cover. Ah well, at least the mission was successful in the end."

Alim almost let out a chuckle but realized that Raonar was just relating that totally irrelevant piece so that he could chase away his bad memories about his lover with some more pleasant ones.

"So there you have it," the dwarf concluded as he was once again able to smile. "Thanks for listening as I rambled on," he then turned to the lord of the realm, "And I suppose it's about time I got back, yes?"

Honor's entire body lost its form and turned into a swirling mass of pure brilliance, though a myriad of strands and weaves hovered about him as he practically flew through the air back to the middle of the floating marble island. There, he resumed his previous form quite sleekly and tapped the cane against the floor once.

The marble turned to mist, and the mist cleared, receding ever away from the middle until there was a hole, ten meters in diameter, that looked upon the abyss underneath, where the endless waters fell incessantly. "The Joining is complete," he declared as the two dreamers walked up to the circular shaft. "Now you are immune to the corruption and can finally return to your mortal coil."

"This hole is not here for the purpose I just thought about, is it?" the elf asked, worriedly, though he knew that was exactly why.

"My body is on the other end of this seemingly endless and ever so ominous waterfall," Raonar deadpanned as he gave the other one a playful nudge. "And this 'water' is actually the stream of magic that constantly flows out of me and meddles in your spells when you get too close."

"Thought so..."

"I'll see you back in Ostagar then."

"Yeah..."

The dwarf walked up to the edge of it and waited for a moment, after which he looked back at the mage one last time, his dark blue eyes glittering in the brightness that Honor still gave out. "And here I am again, a final leap of faith as the curtain closes on this chapter of my life," he solemnly stated as a gust of wind caused his clothes to flutter slightly. Then, he just turned his gaze to his front, staring deep, as though the object of his focus was beyond the edge of the Fade itself.

"I am Raonar Aeducan, Prince of Orzammar and Commander of her armies. And now, I fall, only to rise anew."

"Let one who comes within the thaig,
know that Paragons have walked within these halls,
know that mothers have bled upon these stones,
and when from the Deep Roads shadows crept
we clans arose, our vows were kept
deaths resolute, no tears were wept."

He stretched his arms outward, as if embracing the infinity that lay before him. "And now, for the cheesiness to be complete. Atrast Vala! I'll see you on the other side."

He leapt, both arms still outstretched, and did not even blink or chase the calm look off his face as he took the plunge.

"-. This spirit would offer you a deal, young blood mage .-"

Alim Surana stood on the precipice and just thoughtfully stared at his new brother in duty as he fell and disappeared in the seemingly insurmountable darkness. He still could not believe half of what he had heard, but realized that his denial was useless. After all, the Spirit of Honor was right there, next to him, and the light he shone was somehow brighter than the sun but not at all hard on his eyes. Then, the Prince of Orzammar finally passed beyond the edge of his sight, and he realized he would now have to return to his body himself.

Light strands grew and faded out of Honor's body as he was once again clad in kingly vestments, just as shadowless and bright as all of his previous forms. Then, he touched the floor with his cane one last time and a mirror, similar in form to the one in the Tevinter Ruins, grew directly out of the white marble. "You may use this to return to your own world. But before you go, there is something I would ask of you," his penetrating voice like a thousand echoes from the future and the past pronounced.

Alim was somewhat surprised and stared at the Spirit, though he actually had questions of his own. "Before that, tell me. Why are you doing this?"

The hundreds of waves of light momentarily stopped completely and Honor looked like a glowing statue for an instant. "What I do I do because honor dictates it," he retorted, quite diplomatically.

"There's more to it than that," the dreamer debated. "Now that he's no longer affected by the taint you kept sealed all these years, you could just close off the veil completely and be done with this association with him."

The shining being leaned on one foot as he once again resumed his usual, continuously shifting appearance. "True. Honor demanded that I keep him alive, since I was in his debt after he helped me overcome that Pride Demon. And now, his life is no longer in danger from anything that can be seen as having me as part of the cause."

"So, now what? Are you going to close the Veil and end your association with this mortal?" The elf only slightly tried to mask his sarcasm.

Honor laughed. "No."

That answer echoed throughout the entire realm, not just the floating marble island, and Alim couldn't help but be surprised. "No? And why does he still interest you?"

The sprit once again brought his hands together on the hilt of his cane. "Do you want to know why he still has such vivid memories of that event? it is because the 'dream' that the demon pulled him into was, in fact, a nightmare in which he was forced to relive that scene, over and over again."

Alim momentarily closed his eyes, as if trying to get rid of a mental image he had just conjured up.

"Do you want to know why he changed?" the being followed up. "Why he took a liking to massive armors and adopted such a practical and detached attitude? Why he plans so far ahead, and for almost, if not every, possible outcome that could ever be envisioned? He knows why, of course. He does not waste time on denial, on lying to himself. He knows it's because he wants to keep himself from getting hurt even further. That armor he wears is just like the one he built around his heart."

"You are fond of him aren't you?" the Magus finally realized, though he was more in awe than surprised.

"Are you surprised? You are fond of him as well."

"Yes..." he was surprised at how quickly he admitted that. "Because he was the only person who didn't judge me for being a Bl-" he stopped himself, realizing that it may not be a good idea to tell the spirit of Honor he was versed in magic used by malefikarum.

"I know you are a blood mage," Honor slammed, causing the elf to take a step back and become worried. "Fear not. What you can do will not earn my ire, so long as it does not overstep the bounds of honor. Regardless, it is because you know such magic that I wish to make you a proposition."

That was definitely unexpected. Alim knew he should never even consider making deals with demons, but Honor was no demon and, well, he was Honor. "A deal? What kind of deal?"

Honor put his arms behind his back and walked a few steps away. "That armor around his heart... he took it off only once in the past four years. And that was just weeks ago. He exposed his heart so that he could trample it. He exposed it so that his brother may tell him he wished him dead, so that he could use that to bring himself to stab him, only to keep him alive in the end. He exposed his heart so that he could become hurt enough to have the strength to write such harsh words to his father. He did it so that nothing could stop him from seeing just how selfish of him it was to force such a fate upon his second. He did it, only so he could never forget. He never forgets. he never lets himself forget."

"That doesn't sound right. He should be able to move on, especially considering that he can practically rationalize everything," the mage uttered.

"That is not how he is. He does not move on, nor does he fall back. He just stays and grows, becoming ever more than he was before. He takes every experience, pleasant or not so, and makes it a part of him. That is what allowed him to become who he is. You can see it, can't you? He can understand anything and see the reasoning behind it, even though the ones who do the things he analyzes sometimes do not know their own reasons themselves."

"What are you getting at?"

"I fear he may end up hurting himself even more if he goes on like this, and that something irreparable will happen when he finally takes that armor around his heart off again. If his plan to save Trian had failed, it would have already happened and we would not be having this conversation."

"That's his choice to make, isn't it?"

"You say that, but you still came all the way into the Fade after him," Honor flatly pointed out.

Alim stared into the ground. "I suppose that's true." He then looked back at him. "So, what exactly do you propose?"

Honor took a straightforward stance and let himself shine as bright as light could possibly get. "I will teach you some things. In return, you will have to do something for me when the time comes."

Alim Surana, Elven Blood Mage of the Circle tower, narrowed his eyes slightly and engaged in a staredown with the magnificent being that stood before him.

"-. Welcome, Brother .-"

When he finally came to, the mage felt hazy and somewhat weakened, but he managed to grasp the situation quickly enough and noticed that the silver-haired dwarf had only just woken up himself and was scratching his eyes. Then, he noticed Duncan and Alistair standing over the two of them, and the others lined up against the wall, waiting for them to get back to their senses.

"It is finished," Duncan solemnly uttered. "Welcome."

Duncan helped Raonar to his feet, while Alistair did the same to the ever so aggravating Blood Mage that he had still not come to accept as a brother.

"You two gave us quite a scare," Gwenith told from the side.

"Yes," the Warden Commander enforced. "I don't suppose you could actually tell us what happened?"

The Prince and the Mage exchanged quizzical looks for a moment, after which the former looked up at Duncan with a sly grin.

"We had tea..."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Author's footnote: I know this may seem overly tragic, but despite what game mechanics show, this is actually what Dwarves have been going through for centuries. Also:

Disclaimer: The poem that Raonar recites is taken from the codex.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

And that review space is still waiting!