The first thing Nynaeve heard was someone, or something, speaking in a thick guttural tongue that was somehow familiar. It pulled on something within her. It was calling to her - and she wanted to answer it.

Something screamed in pain. The sound echoed all around, and shook her.

She opened her eyes and saw it -

A darker shadow in the darkness. Green eyes that searched for her. Before it could find her, she -

Nynaeve woke. Her eyes opened and she gasped for breath. Her throat felt dry. And her skin felt feverish. She felt hot. Nyn sat up, and held her head when she became dizzy. There was something wrong.

She had been moved into a healer's tent. She remembered though. She would never forget. But she was alone now. She had to get up, she had to get away before they returned. She got to her feet, holding onto the cot for support.

Alistair came rushing into the tent, and grabbed her by the arm. "Duncan, come, she's awake!" He called out. He helped her back onto the cot, and gave her a gentle smile. "It's going to be fine," he promised.

Nyn flinched from his touch and glared at him.

Duncan entered the tent slowly with his hands out. He looked tired, and as though he had aged years since the last time she saw him. "How do you feel?"

"How the fade do you think I feel?" She sneered. "I was poisoned."

Duncan gave a faint smile. "I know how you are feeling. You are scared. Angry. You feel betrayed," he chuckled. "I felt the same as you do. In fact, I attempted to kill the one who brought me over."

"Like how you murdered Jory?"

"What happened with Jory was unfortunate," he said. "However, I gave him a choice. And he made it. We will honor him for it."

Unfortunate. Nynaeve snorted. Funny way explain it. Duncan made it sound as though it was Jory's fault, and not his own. "He had a new wife," she said. "A baby on the way. He didn't wish to die on your blade."

"He came to me," Duncan said. "Did he tell you that? Normally, I would never have recruited him. But he asked. And I relented. Although, I wish now that I had not," he sighed. "His widow and child will be taken care of. He died a brother."

"And Daveth?" She demanded. "He did everything you asked of him. Why did he die?" His was the first death she had ever truly witnessed. He had winked and smiled, and it would haunt her forever more.

"Sometimes the Joining fails," he answered. "We do not know why." He paused. "By Andraste's mercy, maybe they are the lucky ones," he added almost too low to hear.

"The Joining?" She questioned.

"That is the name we have given to this ritual," he explained. "You will have already noticed a few of the changes you can expect. You will be quicker, in body and mind. You will be stronger. Heal faster. As a mage, you will find your spells to be much more powerful even without the use of lyrium. You will see and hear better than any human. Elf or dwarf. And you will be able to sense when other Wardens are nearby."

Sounded too good to be true, she thought. There had to be a catch. The catch was, she was no longer human. She was now a monster like the things out there were. She thought she was going to be sick.

"What now?"

"Normally, I would introduce you to your brothers and they would accept you into the family," Duncan said. "However, tonight there will not be time. In only a few hours we will be fighting darkspawn at the King's command. You will await us here in camp with the healers."

"I should not have to remind you that you are not to speak of this to anyone outside of the Order, and to so means death," Duncan reminded. "Alistair, give our new sister her token."

"Wha- Oh, right," Alistair mumbled. The younger Warden moved cautiously forward. "With this token you are now a Grey Warden," he said. He held a simple chain between his hands. Hanging from it was an oval pendant, the sort that opened.

"The blood from your Joining has been collected into this pendant," Duncan told. "It is to serve as a reminder of your oath. You are to never remove it."

Nynaeve bet it did more than that. It was probably a tracking device, she guessed, like the Tower used. Not that she had any other choice than to go along with it... for now.

She bent her head down toward Alistair. And he nervously fitted the chain around her neck. When she lifted her eyes, she met his own. "I am happy to call you my sister, Nynaeve," he smiled shyly. He reminded her so much of Cullen then, she wanted to be sick.

"Alistair and I are due for a meeting with the King and his council," Duncan said. "I wish for you to join us."

Duncan wanted to keep an eye on her, she knew. Not that she could exactly fault him. But she wasn't a fool. There was nowhere for her to go.

"As you wish," she said. It would give her a chance to find out what was going on here, anyway. And maybe find a way out of this.

Nynaeve followed Duncan out of the healers tent without any help. The whole camp had changed. It was darker and quieter, even the dogs had stopped barking. And the priestesses were conducting their blessings. She could feel the fear around her.

It was thankfully a short walk to the command center. Although, by the sound of things the meeting had started without them.

"... We will not wait for Orlesian aid!" The voice was raised in anger and was somehow familiar to Nyn's ears. "You would shame your father's memory by handing Ferelden back to those he freed us from!" The man slammed his fist against the table. "I will not have it!"

"You forget yourself, Loghain," the King said. "I am your King."

The other speaker, Loghain, was the rude dark haired man from before. "I apologize, your Majesty. You know there are times my passion overcomes me."

"As I know well, Uncle," the King laughed. "And I thank the Maker your daughter has the same fiery passion."

Nynaeve was confused. The King spoke of Loghain as family, though, there was little doubt of how he spoke of the older man's daughter. And she did not imagine the insult that flashed across Loghain's features. "Though, luckily, she has her mother's looks," he said. The King laughed loudly.

"Duncan," King Cailan noticed the Grey Wardens, "now that you are here we can finally begin."

"I see you brought your protege with you," Loghain sneered at Alistair. "And you found your lost mage." He turned back to Cailan. "I like this not, your Majesty. Grey Wardens have no place here in the King's council."

"I should think that would be for the King to decide," Duncan said. "Would not you, Loghain?"

Nynaeve looked around the ruin's chamber. She recognized the older male mage who had been with Alistair. There was also a woman in priestess robes, a Templar, a knight, and an officer. And from the looks of it, Loghain was not the only one who did not want them there.

"Relax, Uncle," the King said. "Duncan is here at my request."

"I apologize, your Majesty," Loghain said.

"As do I, you Majesty," Duncan bowed. "I could not help but overhear... have you had word from the Wardens of Orlais?"

"We have," Cailan answered. "Unfortunately, they have been delayed by a storm at sea and will not make it in time for the battle."

"With all due respect, your Majesty," Duncan said. "It is my opinion that you should reconsider going ahead without them. The Grey Wardens of Orlais have been fighting darkspawn longer than we have. And their knowledge would be of great help."

"You have done well without them so far, your Majesty," Loghain said to the King. "We do not need them."

"Perhaps, Duncan is right-," Cailan said.

"Do not let his cowardice sway you, Cailan," Loghain thinly smiled. "If you allow the Grey Wardens to fight this battle for you, some will credit Orlais with the victory here."

Nynaeve had to give him credit, he knew what he was doing. And it seemed to be working.

"This is not the time for fighting each other," Duncan said. "We should be standing together. If this is truly a Blight-."

"Ah, yes, 'the Blight'," Loghain said with contempt; a few of the others laughed. "I know of one thing, we did not have a problem with darkspawn until King Maric brought your Order back to Ferelden. How do we know this is not some ploy between your Grey Wardens and the Orleasians?"

"You go too far, Loghain," Duncan threatened.

"I only speak of what others will not."

"Enough!" Cailan called out. "I will not have us fighting amongst ourselves. Uncle, what of our battle plans?"

Loghain moved around the large map. "The darkspawn have gathered along the northern ridge. I suggest we send the main of our force to the north. In the meantime, a second force will travel along the western side. We will have the beasts trapped between the two armies and the moutains."

"Perfect," Cailan grinned. "I of course will lead the first force."

"Naturally, your Majesty," Loghain said. "And I will be at your side-."

"You will lead the second force, Uncle," Cailan said. "I will battle with the Grey Wardens."

"I had thought Duncan could have the honour of leading the second force," Loghain said. "The Wardens do not have the numbers for this sort of assault."

"Loghain does speak truly, your Majesty," Duncan admitted.

"Nonsense," Cailan said. "One Grey Warden is worth twenty ordinary soldiers."

"I must insist you at least take your guard, Cailan," Loghain said. "I worry for your safety."

"I do not need a babysitter," Cailan stubbornly said. "And I will fight alongside the Grey Wardens, as my father did before me."

"Very well," Loghain thinly smiled. "As you will."

"It would be our honor, your Majesty," Duncan bowed.

"I had planned to send a small team to this abandoned tower, here," Loghain pointed on the map. "In the days of old, it was used as a signal tower. We can use the beacon to signal the second team to advance," Loghain said. "If I may suggest who will be trusted with this task..."

"Allow us to do it," the mage spoke for the first time.

"No, it should be us," the priestess insisted. "We will light the way with Andraste's flame."

"Pardon me, your Majesty," Duncan bowed. "If I may suggest sending two of my own."

"I like it," Cailan said. "Grey Wardens to claim what was once theirs. Very well, the task is yours."

"The legend is that the Tower of Ishal was where the Wardens made their last stand in the first Blight," Loghain smiled thinly. "Rather apropos, I believe."

"Glorious," Cailan grinned. "This will be a battle for the storybooks."

Most of the storybooks Nynaeve remembered ended in a tragedy. She had a bad feeling about this.

"With your leave, your Majesty," Duncan bowed. "I must begin preparations."

"Of course, Duncan," Cailan smiled. "And no need to be so formal, we will be shedding blood together, after all." He laughed.

A very bad feeling, indeed.