Alistair the Mage

by Magus1108

Alistair Theirin was born to King Maric of Ferelden, and the Grey Warden Fiona. Maric was human, but Fiona was an Elf and a Mage. Their son did not inherit the ears of his mother, thankfully; but what if she had passed her magic down to him? As one of the Magi, Alistair's life is forever altered; and because of this, the nations of Thedas are thrust onto the precipice of change.

20. The Road to Salvation

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins, or anything else associated with the Dragon Age franchise. BioWare owns it, more or less. And I am in no way affiliated with BioWare. So please don't sue me; trust me, you wouldn't get any real money out of it.

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Chapter 14: The Road to Salvation

Five seconds of tense silence followed Uldred's declaration. And in those five seconds, all Alistair could think to do was blankly stare at his teacher.

"What?" Alistair bluntly asked, unable to fully comprehend Uldred's words. "I...what?"

The Senior Enchanter looked over grimly at him. "I am sorry Alistair, but I speak the truth. If we do not spirit you out of the Tower before morning arrives, then Knight-Commander Hadley shall bring you in for the Rite of Tranquility."

Alistair stared openly at his teacher, a strangled noise coming out of his gaping mouth. A good mixture of stark confusion and panicked fear started to overtake him, as the gravity of the elder Mage's words started to catch up with him. "W-What—!"

Uldred was at his side in an instant. The older man gripped his shoulder tightly, and leaned down close to him. His voice was frantic and contained an almost harsh tone to it, as he went on to say,

"I am sorry, Alistair. I cannot give you more of an explanation than that; there is simply no time. Like I said, Angelica can tell you more later. But for now, we must hurry! Now, do you have everything you need? If you forget something, you cannot go back for it."

Alistair gave a vacant nod, blinking rapidly as his mind tried to come to grips with these unexpected turn of events. Uldred took that as a yes, and immediately linked his arm with his Apprentice's. He began to march them away from his bunk-bed, and to the exit of the Apprentice Dormitory.

"I—Uldred, what, I don't...understand..." Alistair stumbled in his gait, as he struggled to keep up with his mentor. His sudden, brisk motion wasn't that conductive to his thinking process either, which impaired his already fractured thinking all the more.

Uldred sighed, and glanced over at him. "I know this is overwhelming, Alistair. I...I am sorry about this. I had hoped I would have more time...time to fill you in on my schemes about your path to freedom...but of course, things never go according to plan, do they? I am truly sorry, Alistair. I had hoped there would be more...time..."

The Senior Enchanter sighed again, and fell silent. Alistair, still too stunned and confused to form a coherent response, let him keep quiet. The two of them walked out of the Dormitory, and Uldred began to lead them down to the entrance of the Tower. They reached the wide chamber soon enough, and Uldred took them over to the doors; by the faint glow of torch light, Alistair was able to make out the slumped forms of three armored Templars. Above them, a cloaked person of short stature stood; an outreached hand closed around one of the necks of the unresponsive Templars.

At the sound of their footsteps, the figure immediately straightened and whirled around, a staff lashing out in its hands. The disguised figure stopped short, however, upon glimpsing at their dimly lit faces. Its free hand went up, and pulled down the hood of the cloak. With her face free of obstruction, Angelica gave a slight smile to Alistair and Uldred.

"I see you've taken care of the guards. Good." Uldred nodded at the fallen Templars, his voice brisk and official.

"Are...are they..." Alistair stared at the Templars in growing horror, and looked back up at Angelica. He felt surprised at her presence, as well, but considering all that was going on, her involvement was the least...shocking, of the recent revelations. And he was still trying to comprehend the fact that he...he was...

Maker, what was going on here?!

"They merely sleep, Alistair." Angelica reassured, calmly smiling at him. "I did not want either of us wanted for the murder of a Templar, so I simply put them to sleep. They may have a slight headache after waking, but will otherwise be fine."

Alistair gave a stiff nod, and fell quiet, unsure of what else to say or ask. A moment later Uldred stepped forward and pulled out a letter from his robes. He handed it to Angelica, who pocketed it.

"If all goes well, you should not need it. The letters are to be a last resort...and even then, the Templars might try to ignore them." Uldred advised gravely. Angelica firmly nodded her understanding.

The two of them turned to look back over at Alistair, who in turn was staring at them, a disbelieving look in his gaze.

"This...this is really happening?" Alistair quietly asked, shaking slightly. "I...I'm not dreaming, am I?"

Angelica sighed, and shook her head at him. "I'm afraid not, Alistair."

The young Mage dimly nodded in reply, and he looked off with a dazed expression. Uldred scowled momentarily, closing his eyes in regret. He shook off such feelings and strode back over to Alistair. He knelt in front of the boy and looked directly into his eyes.

"This is a lot to take in, I know, Alistair. I'm truly sorry that I wasn't able to give you time to prepare for this. But it's for the best. You won't be prisoner anymore." Uldred stated, a soothing quality to his voice. Then, to Alistair's surprise, his teacher reached over and enveloped him in a brief hug, squeezing him tightly, before reluctantly pulling back. The Senior Enchanter conveyed one last sympathetic look to him, and stood back up.

"I will miss you, Alistair. A great deal. You have been a joy to teach, a wonderful student and companion, and...and I love you very much. You're like the son I never had, and it pains me to see you go, even if it is to freedom and a brighter future. I hope that you never forget me, Alistair, and I pray to the Maker that our paths shall cross again, one day soon. Goodbye." Uldred solemnly said, a small hitch to his voice. Stunned at such affection, Alistair could only give a dumb nod in reply.

The Senior Enchanter blinked rapidly and turned over to Angelica, giving her a final nod. The Elven Enchanter smiled at him, and swiftly rushed to him and grabbed him into a tight embrace, which Uldred returned eagerly. The two parted for a moment, and Uldred looked directly into his former student's eyes.

Uldred spoke quietly to her, his voice strained with held back emotion. "And I shall miss you as well, Angelica. I've known you since you were a little girl, and I've watched you grown into a marvelous young woman; seeing you develop into the powerful Enchanter that you are today has been a wonderful experience. It has been an extreme honor to know you, and a pleasure to have your friendship. I can only hope that one day we shall meet again. Goodbye, Puer meus dilectus. I shall never forget you."

Angelica swallowed heavily, and wiped at her eyes. She reached over and gave Uldred a single, platonic kiss on the cheek. She pulled back and sadly stared back at him. Her voice was thick with feeling as she replied, "Thank you, Uldred. You're the closest thing to a father I've ever had, and...and I shall miss you. Dearly. Goodbye, and please, take care of yourself."

The two hugged again, sharing one last and final moment with each other. Alistair blushed slightly and looked down at the floor, feeling that he was intruding on such a tender moment. He'd never realized how close Angelica and Uldred were...they were giving up quite a lot, just to save him from becoming a...a...a Tranquil...

The two elder Mages separated at last, and shared a tender and fleeting look. With that complete, Uldred walked off to the side, and Angelica moved over to him. She took his hand in hers, and squeezed it, a forced smile fixed across her face.

"It's time to go, Alistair. Are you ready?" she inquired lightly.

Alistair was quite ready to say that, no, he wasn't ready, that he still had so many questions, and that this was all so confusing, and by Andraste's bloody knickers, what was even going on here?!—but he didn't say that. Uldred had already stressed to him that their time was limited, and Alistair truly believed that. Uldred never lied to him, and with as serious a matter as this was...well, whatever questions he had, they needed to wait. He still wanted answers, of course, but he wanted to not become a Tranquil even more so.

So instead, he simply responded with, "Yes, Angelica. I'm ready."

The Enchanter gave him a single nod, and walked them over to the doors. She paused at the threshold, and looked over at Uldred, who still stood over at the side of the hall, watching them. Alistair turned to look back as well, and caught what would likely be his last glimpse of his Battlemage teacher for quite a long time.

"Goodbye, Uldred." Angelica spoke softly, her tone filled with sorrow and regret. Without waiting for a reply, she then fixed her gaze back upon the doors, and gently opened them. She led Alistair outside, and slowly shut the entrance to the Ferelden Circle of Magi behind them.

Alistair breathed in the fresh night air, and looked up into the sky, seeing the stars and the Moon for the first time in five long years.

He froze in place, gasping softly, transfixed by the beautiful and magnificient view. Angelica similarly stopped in place, her head snapping upwards.

"It is so beautiful..." she murmured, drinking in the unbelievable sight. "I had forgotten how pretty and brightly the stars shine..."

Alistair, unable to find the words, merely nodded in reply. He too had forgotten the majesty of the night sky. With no real windows in the Tower, he hadn't seen anything of the outside world since leaving Redcliffe. It was such a breath-taking view. Of all the good and wonderful things he had left behind since coming to the Circle, Alistair never imagined that seeing the simplistic view of the night sky would be something he had so dearly missed...even if he didn't completely realize that until now.

Alistair continued to stare, but was jotled out of his star-gazing when Angelica gently placed her hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, a questioning look on his face.

"We can look at the stars to our hearts content later, Alistair. For now, we must carry on." Angelica stated simply, a slight smile shining brightly upon her face, within the pale moonlight.

Alistair gave a reluctant nod at that, and they set off. They trudged over to the small dock of Kinloch Hold, where a boat waited calmly in the water for them. Sitting within the boat was a huddled figure, its features obscured by a baggy cloak. Alistair stared over at the unknown person with some amount of concern, but Angelica appeared to have expected it. She lightly waved at the figure, and he or she waved back.

"This will be our guide during our journey, Alistair." Angelica explained briefly. She gently stepped onto the boat, and helped her former Apprentice into it a moment later. Once they were on board, their mysterious companion gripped the oars and started rowing them to shore.

The whole process made Alistair more than a little queasy; he'd never been on a boat all his life—well, technically speaking, he had taken a boat to get to the Circle in the first place, but he hadn't been conscious for that—and so he found the process more than a little disorienting. Angelica looked similarly affected, but neither of them complained.

They reached the shore soon enough, but instead of anchoring at the dock, their guide took them a short distance away from there. By that point Alistair's eyes had adjusted completely to the dark, and he made out the figure of a...carriage. Yes, a carriage, and two horses hitched to it. Was that their ride? More likely than not, unless they were just going to travel by foot. Which would be utterly ridiculous, and needlessly prolong their journey. What senisble group of travelers wouldn't use a horse as their mode of transportation?

His suspicions were confirmed when their guide beached the boat onto the shore, and got out and walked over to the carriage. Angelica gently stepped off the boat, and Alistair soon followed, glad to be on safe and stable land.

Their guide opened the side doors of the carriage, and rummaged inside for a moment. He or she appeared to find whatever it was that they were searching for within, and stepped back. When the guide turned around, a bundle of some sort was carried in their arms. Their mystery ally approached them, and held out the bundle to Angelica.

"Take these, and change quickly." the guide urged, an unmistakenly feminine quality to her voice. Angelica briskly nodded, and took clothes. She separated the bundle into two and handed one half off to Alistair.

"You heard her, Alistair. Go ahead and change." Angelica declared. She set her new clothes onto the ground and started to take off her robe.

Alistair blushed, and swiftly turned away. He was a bit reluctant to change in front of Angelica, and this stranger, but changing every morning in front of all the other Apprentices for the past five years had truly robbed him of any lingering sense of modesty. So he just gave a light shrug and did as they asked, shucking off his robes in a flash, leaving him in only his smallclothes. The clothes he changed into turned out to be a pair of trousers and a shirt; the former of which he hadn't worn in many years.

"Why are we changing?" Alistair inquired, a little perplexed.

Their female guide answered him immediately. "We cannot have anything that identifies you as a Mage. We'll have to leave your robes behind. And as for your staff, Angelica, I will hide that with mine. If we are lucky, we shall not need them."

He nodded at this. It made sense, he supposed. Still...he'd rather miss wearing robes. They gave him a lot more legroom than simple trousers did.

"Alright, I think that's it, then. Are we ready to set off?" Angelica inquired, as she finished changing, revealing the plain dress that she now wore. She then surrendered her staff to their guide, who took it gingerly.

The guide nodded, as she weighed the staff in her hands. "Yes, of course. We have a lot of ground to cover, especially if we want to get a good head-start on the Templars, so I'm afraid we'll have to travel through the night. A small sacrifice, though, to ensure...Alistair's safety."

The guide looked over at him, measuring him for a moment underneath her hooded gaze. Alistair shifted nervously, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"Very well. By the way..." Angelica tilted her head curiously, looking their guide up and down. "Uldred did not know for sure who our...guide would be, during our journey, just that you would be a Grey Warden. So, might we have your name, Madam?"

"Ah, right. Of course." she reached up and flipped her hood off, revealing the stern and piercing eyes of a fair looking woman of Elvish descent.

Speaking with a light Orlesian accent, the woman stated, "I am Fiona, a Senior Mage of the Grey Wardens. It is...a pleasure to meet you both. Now, shall we leave?"

Angelica inclined her head to Fiona, and started walking over to the carriage. Alistair followed her after a hesitant pause, and the both of them climbed through the door that led into a somewhat cramped opening. Alistair squeezed himself into the small seat opposite Angelica, and leaned back into it.

Half a heartbeat later the carriage started into motion, as Fiona urged the horses forward. The path was bumpy and uneven for a brief period, before Fiona apparently led them back onto a road of some sort, as the carriage started to settle down then.

A tense silence settled over Alistair and Angelica, as they rode on. Alistair strugled to find something to say, but his mind still reeled over the fight that his entire world had just been thrown upside down in the span of a single night.

This did not last forever, however. After a time the young Mage finally found himself able to vocalize a single question to his former mentor.

"Angelica...what's going on? Why...why was the Knight-Commander going to bring me in for Tranquilization? What...what's going on?!" Alistair nearly shouted as he finished his query, a hysterical edge to his tone.

Angelica sighed heavily, looking away with an uncomfortable grimace. After a moment she declared, "I...it is a long and unpleasant story, Alistair. But...you do deserve an answer. Very well. There...is no real delicate way to put this, so I will just say it: it all has to do with your father, King Maric."

Alistair jerked in surprise, his eyes widening. He began to stammer, trying to come up with some sort of coherent response. "I, I don't, he isn't—!"

"I know that you are the son of King Maric, Alistair." Angelica explained patiently, speaking in a soothing and calming tone. "As does Uldred. He was the one who told me in the first place, in fact. How he came across this knowledge, I do not know, but it matters not."

Alistair took that nudget of information in very slowly, processing it through his confused mind. Angelica and Uldred knew he was the bastard child of the King? That...wow. He...he could hardly comprehend the idea. He had held this secret for so long, but the fact that both of his mentors had known this for quite some time...

Angelica had learned this from Uldred, so...how had Uldred found out? Had he known his father in some way, and noticed the resemblance? Had he somehow gotten the information from Arl Eamon? The possibilities were endless, honestly. But the fact that both Angelica and Uldred knew his secret was the least of his concerns, at the moment. He didn't see how it tied into him being made Tranquil by Knight-Commander Hadley.

"...All...right. How...how does this tie in with, um, my f-f-fa...the King, then? I, uh, don't see how this relates to...all this." Alistair questioned hestiantly, somewhat dreading the answer; however these two...things were related, he just knew he wouldn't like it.

Angelica seemed to show her own reluctance, taking her time before finally relinquishing an answer to him. She spoke clearly and in a concise manner; however, she couldn't keep the raw emotion out of her voice as she began to describe, in vivid detail, the chain of events that had led to his flight from the Circle.

"It...is a horrid tale, I am afraid. I know all of this through Uldred, and admittedly he hasn't been able to truly confirm any of this...but his hypothesis makes a frightening amount of sense. You see...Alistair, to put it bluntly, you are the bastard child of the King of Ferelden. You may be a Mage, true, but the fact that you are of royal blood could still be seen as...usual, to certain people. And that is how this all began, I suppose; someone in Orlais seeing you as a useful...tool to acquire and use.

"You see...it seems that the Orlesians, specifically, their Empress, ended up hearing of your existence, not long after you came to the Tower. And once they heard of you, Empress Celene started to make...plans. Very, very bad plans, plans that, as you see, nearly ruined your life. The Orlesians gave orders to the Divine, and through her the Grand Cleric, and through her the Knight-Commander of the Circle, to have you made Tranquil, and then after a time, taken away from the Circle to...well, I'm not sure. Val Royeaux, possibly, or maybe some other Orlesian holding.

"At any rate, after that...well, Uldred is not entirely sure what they wanted to do with you. He has a number of theories, and any one of them could be true. And every one of them is more horrible than the last, so I will not traumatize you any further by listing his guesses. But whatever it was, whatever plan the Empress had conceived for you...it couldn't have been good; especially since it involved making you into a Tranquil."

Here, Angelica paused, to breathe and temporarily rest her voice. Dead silence was left in the wake of her speech, as Alistair stared and gaped at her, completely floored. His mind seemed to freeze at this major revelation, unable to do anything except loop around what she had said within his head.

The Elven Mage continued on, then, heedless of Alistair's little mental breakdown.

"Obviously, of course, that isn't going to happen now. Uldred discovered this plot some time ago, and set in motion a plan of his own to disrupt it, and spirit you away to safety and freedom. It took a lot of work, but he did it, thank the Maker. Though we both thought we'd have more time to...inform you of all this. We never imagined...well, at any rate, Uldred wouldn't allow you to be made Tranquil by Orlais, so he enlisted some help to ensure your freedom from such a horrible fate.

"He contacted the Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden, Ser Duncan, and explained everything to him. Commander Duncan was very concerned about this whole horrid affair, and immediately pledged to Uldred his support in any plan to ensure your safety. Or so Uldred told me. At any rate, the two of them went to work. They came to an agreement that the only way you could ever be truly free from the Chantry, and the grip of Orlais by extent, was to, well...to become a Grey Warden."

Alistair managed to regain some of his senses, upon hearing those last words. He blinked rapidly, turning over that piece of information within his mind. "Is...is that what's going to happen to me now? I'm...I'm going to become a Grey Warden?"

"We both are, Alistair." Angelica confirmed, nodding.

The young Mage's eyebrows shot up at this, and his companion swiftly elaborated. "I volunteered to go with you, Alistair. Uldred didn't want you to brave through this alone, so...I volunteered. I wouldn't dare leave you in such dangerous and desperate time, Alistair. You...Emilia, Jowan, Talia, all four of you...I love you all so much. More than you realize. And...and while it pains me to leave the rest of them behind, I couldn't let you go through this all by yourself. You need someone to help you with the transition, after all. Someone you know."

Alistair slowly nodded at that, fleetingly feeling thankful toward his old mentor. This...she didn't have to come with him, but she did anyway. She was sacrificing so much of her life at the Tower to help him escape, but she did it anyway, regardless of the consequences. That...that was true dedication and love, there.

Still, his feelings of elation at having her here with him did not last long. An important question burned its way to the forefront of his mind, and the query itself quickly made his short-lived good mood disappear. Alistair scowled, and looked off to the side, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"What is it?" Angelica was perceptive, and picked up on his sudden mood change within a few moments. "Is there something on your mind?"

"I..." Alistair sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He decided not to voice his question, and instead replied with, "I...it's great to be out of the Tower, of course. I...I've always wanted to be free, always wanted to leave, of course, but...well. This wasn't how I imagined it would go."

"No doubt. This is not how I imagined it would go for me, either." Angelica frankly admitted, a ghost of a smile on her visage. "Still, it is happening. If one good thing has come out of these horrible, horrible plots, at least you are free now. At least we are both free now."

There was some truth to that, definitely. Oh sure, Alistair would miss his friends, quite desperately in fact, but...well. It was certainly better than being made Tranquil at the Tower. And, well, the full impact of this event hadn't quite settled with him yet. A part of his mind was still in shock. Still...

Free. He was free. After five long years in the Ferelden Circle of Magi...he was free.

...But one thing bothered him, the Burning Question that would not escape the center of his thought. The one question he knew would never go away, until he finally addressed it...

And so he finally spoke about it. "Does my father love me, Angelica?"

"What?" Angelica looked down at him, clearly startled and surprised at his sudden, off-topic query.

"Does my father love me, Angelica?" Alistair inquired once more, a bitter tone seeping into his voice. "Because you said the Grey Wardens are helping me. Not my father."

Angelica opened and closed her mouth rapidly, struggling to find the proper response. "I...well, I can't...speak for the King. But...what father wouldn't love his child, Alistair? Besides, if anything, your father was keeping Orlais from acting out their devious plans straight away. I...suppose you could say that, in his own way, he kept you safe long enough for Uldred to find out about these nefarious dealings and make his own plans for your survival."

"He was...stopping them from acting out, until now?" Alistair echoed, truly surprised. Well...that did make sense, didn't it? Maric had freed Ferelden from the Orlesian Occupation, and no doubt had kept Orlais in good check, during his reign. Still...

...Something wasn't adding up. The gears started to spin within his mind, and Alistair voiced, "But I don't understand. If...if he was stopping them before, then what made them act n—"

And suddenly, it all clicked. Alistair stopped short, and a dreadful realization overcame him. He looked back up at his mentor, who now had a pained expression etched across her face.

"My father is dead." the words came cold and flat out of his mouth, and Alistair knew it came across as more of a statement, than an actual question.

Angelica confirmed everything for him with one, painful and haunting word. "Yes."

And for the second time that night, Alistair felt his entire world crumble beneath his feet.

---

They traveled through the rest of the night, and well into the morning. After Angelica's revelations, Alistair had tried to get some sleep, and for the most part, he had succeeded. He was eventually able to overcome the rocking of the carriage to find some sleep, though he did not rest as fully as he would have wanted.

Alistair came out of his fitful sleep just as the carriage came to a gentle stop. A minute later the door to the outside was opened, and Fiona poked her head in.

"The horses need some time to rest, and I figured this would be a good time to stop for breakfast." Fiona elaborated, her gaze flickering over to Alistair before settling upon Angelica. "And you two would like to stretch your legs, no doubt."

Angelica nodded, and murmured her own agreement, as did Alistair a few seconds later. Fiona stepped out of their way, and the two Mages exited the carriage and walked into the sunlight.

Seeing the sun and the open blue sky for the first time in five years, and even longer for Angelica, proved to be a feat that stopped them both short.

Alistair winced at the harsh light, and hunched over, overwhelmed. The light of the moon and the stars had not been as unforgiving, and thus his sudden introduction to the sun was more than a little upsetting to his senses. Angelica, no doubt, had it even worse, given the fact that she had spent many more years at Kinloch Hold than he had.

After a good few minutes of recovery, they both finally adjusted. As Alistair came to his senses, he noticed Fiona standing by, looking over at them with slight concern.

"I..." Angelica drew in quick breaths, holding a hand to shadow her eyes from the burning light in the sky. "This is quite...overwhelming. Maker, I forgot how bright the sun is..."

"I experienced something...similar, when I left the Circle." Fiona commented, looking them both up and down. "If you want, I can cast a rejuvenation spell on you both. I've found it helps Circle Mages adjust to the outside quicker, and helps with the nausea."

"Yes, please!" Angelica urged, taking in a deep breath. Fiona nodded swiftly and raised her hand, waving it at their direction.

Within seconds Alistair felt a flash of Magic envelop him. The spell brought him back to good spirits instantly, and the young Mage gave a sigh of relief. Angelica too looked to be back in good health.

"Um, thanks, Fiona." Alistair managed to get out, sending a small smile the Warden's way. Fiona considered him for a second, an odd look in her eye, before she too smiled.

"It is no trouble. Now, if you are both feeling fine, I believe it's time for breakfast. I have some rations we can eat, and some tea to drink. It is not much, but it should fill us up fine." Fiona declared. Alistair's stomach chose that moment to rumble, causing him to blush, a sheepish smile on his face.

Angelica smirked and chuckled, glancing over at her former student before focusing her attention back on Fiona. "Breakfast sounds lovely, Fiona. Let's get started."

Fiona set to work, while Alistair and Angelica waited on the ground. Having been served food by the Tranquil for the entirety of their stay at the Circle, neither Alistair nor his older companion knew how to cook for themselves, even using magic, so it fell to the Grey Warden to prepare their breakfast. Alistair himself felt rather foolish, being unable to help with such a really simple task, and made a vow to correct that in the future.

While they waited, Alistair chanced a look at their surroundings, and shortly found himself admiring the view.

The carriage had pulled over at a flattened piece of land, with the landscape laid out before him for miles and miles around. Not much to look at, of course, but the simplicity of it all made it seem almost...well, beautiful, to him. A silly feeling, perhaps, but one Alistair couldn't help. He hadn't gotten a good look at the area outside the Tower, due to the pale light of the moon, but now that the sun was out...he truly got a good look at everything. A brief glance over at Angelica proved that she too was similarly enraptured by the nature around her, which put a smile on his face; it made him glad to know that he wasn't alone in such happy feelings.

He truly was outside again. It was...amazing. Simply amazing. Five years stuck in that spiraling tower, and he was finally free. It was...amazing. And all it had taken to earn his freedom was his father...

Alistair frowned, and brushed that thought aside uncomfortably. The time for...mourning, and everything inbetween could be saved for later. If he let it happen at all. Right now, it was...a happy occasion. Being out of the Circle was a joyous event, and one that he shouldn't really sour.

As he continued to wait, the young Mage idly brushed his fingers against the grass, enjoying the sensation. He kept that up for a good few minutes, until their Grey Warden guide disrupted his actions with the smell of prepared food and drink.

"It's not much, I'm afraid, but it will keep us going." Fiona declared, handing out the rations and tea to her guests. A tranquil silence fell over the group, as they eat their meal, Angelica and Alistair especially glad to consume fuel for their bodies.

"So, um...where are we heading, again?" Alistair questioned well into their meal, breaking the quiet. He honestly couldn't recall if Angelica had told him their destination, in all the excitment and revelations of last night, so he felt the need to ask.

Fiona swallowed a bite of food and easily answered him. "Orzammar. It is the last city of the Dwarves, and a vital outpost against the ever-vigilant threat of the Darkspawn. Duncan wants to get you Joined right away, and thought it best to take you outright to Orzammar, instead of risking a delay by smuggling you to the Compound. From there, we shall enter into the Deep Roads, and...well, beyond that, I cannot say. Suffice to say, however, that at the end of this journey, you and Angelica shall be Grey Wardens."

Alistair blinked and nodded at this, mulling it over. It sounded...well, okay, he supposed. Going to Orzammar might be a good and educational experience, actually, so that might be interesting. He wasn't so keen on entering the Deep Roads, though. The Darkspawn roamed there, which meant that he'd probably have to fight the Tainted creatures there too...

Not the most promising of prospects. But if it got him into the Grey Wardens, who was he to complain? And it was a better deal than being made Tranquil, of course. The horrors of fighting Darkspawn simply did not compare to the horror of being stripped of all magic and emotion, and being made a slave in all but name to the Chantry.

"What is Orzammar like?" Angelica inquired, genuine curiousity flashing through her eyes. "I've read about the Dwarves and Orzammar, of course, but I imagine it's nothing compared to seeing it in person."

Fiona granted her a small smile, nodding at the query. "Orzammar is...hard to describe. Simply put, it is a marvelous wonder of engineering and architecture. It's nothing like I've ever seen before in any nation of Thedas. It is a beautiful city, and for a Grey Warden, a pleasant place to be, after you get past the fact that the entire place is deep underground. It is...a unique experience, I suppose you could say."

Angelica drank the response in eagerly, an excited air about her. For his part, Alistair too perked up at the Dwarven city's description. While the Deep Roads themselves might not be fun, to say the least, it sounded like Orzammar itself would be a fascinating experience.

"So, Alistair. Tell me. Are you happy to be leaving the Circle?" Fiona suddenly asked, trying to maintain a conversational tone.

The youthful Battlemage furrowed his brow at the sudden, unexpected question, but saw no reason why he shouldn't answer. Fiona was their guide, after all, and it would be rude to refuse to reply.

"I...suppose I am." he claimed at length, after some thought. "I'll miss my friends, of course, and Uldred, too...but other than that...yes, yes I am. I...I've always wanted to leave the Circle, but I never really had the courage to try and escape, like Anders. Still, I never thought that I'd actually...but, well, now that I'm out...it's great. I'm, uh, glad to be outside again."

Alistair once again took in the sight of the serene grassland stretched out before him, a soft grin forming across his lips. Fiona smiled widely at him and nodded in an understanding manner.

"It's good to hear that, Alistair. You'll soon find that a life outside the Circle is a wonderful one indeed. Being a Grey Warden is harsh work, of course, but it's a worthy price for freedom." she said, staring at him gently, before abruptly returning to her meal. Alistair stared back at her for a second, wondering why she had questioned him, before just accepting it and diving back into his food.

They finished their meal, soon enough, and returned back to the carriage.

"We have a long day of traveling ahead of us." Fiona informed them briefly, as she took up the reins of the horses. "It'll take us five days to get to Orzammar, at best, and every second we waste, the faster the Templars might catch up with us. We won't be stopping too often, I'm afraid, but it's a necessary sacrifice."

Alistair took that in, feeling slightly concerned about possibly being tailed by the Templars to Orzammar. They still had his phylactery, didn't they? And Angelica's too, no doubt. That would be a problem...

He went inside the carriage with Angelica, and they were soon underway, heading at their best possible speed to Orzammar.

---

They had been on the road for most of the day at that point, stopping once more for lunch, and not unsurprisingly, Alistair found himself deep in thought. Unfortunately for the lad, their wasn't much to do inside the carriage, while they traveled. Alistair wished he had thought to bring a book with him, but much to his regret, he hadn't. And so his only options to pass the time were to sleep, think to himself, and talk to Angelica. And he wasn't in much of a mood to sleep through most of the day, nor did he think of much to talk about with his former teacher. And so he was left to his thoughts...

Which, after some time, led him to ask Angelica a question. This particular question was a long time coming, since he had learned of King Maric's death. Alistair had tried not to think about his father, about the fact that he was gone forever...but that goal had been a losing battle. And so he finally caved on the matter, and inquired about the one query that kept hounding him about his father's untimely demise.

"How did my father die?"

Angelica lifted her head and glanced over at him, blinking with mild surprise. She straightened herself in her seat and cleared her throat, thinking upon the matter. "Well...I do not know myself, only what Uldred told me. And he did not know much either, aside from some vague details. I...honestly do not know if your father is truly dead, Alistair. But it is likely he is. It seems the King went missing at sea, after his boat sank. Teyrn Loghain has been searching for him, but so far he has not found Maric dead or alive."

"Huh." the former Apprentice let out a shocked grunt, taken aback. "I...he...he went missing at sea. My father drowned at sea. Huh."

He fell silent after that, much to Angelica's concern. Still, despite her attempts to change the subject to a lighter tone, he still didn't reply. Alistair was lost in thought by that point, and nearly oblivious to the outside world.

It wasn't the death he had...expected. King Maric, Savior of Ferelden, the man who had driven Orlais away...had drowned at sea. It just...didn't seem fitting, somehow. If anything would kill Maric the Savior, he had thought it might be the blade of an Orlesian assassin, or something. This sort of death just seemed...anticlimatic, almost.

Alistair was cut off from any further musing when the carriage came to a slow stop. A few seconds later Fiona opened the door into the carriage, and peered inside.

"Time to make camp, and have dinner." she simply stated, and backed out.

Alistair climbed out of the carriage soon after, followed by Angelica. This time they found themselves pulled over by a small river in one direction, and surrounded by yet more flat grassland on the other side. And up above, the sky was starting to darken, as the sun began to set over the horizon.

Angelica took a moment to observe the flowing water, a small smile working its way across her lips. Alistair too took a moment to take in the stream. He'd never seen any sort of large body of water before...well, unless one counted Lake Calenhad, during his escape from the Circle. But that had been during the pitch black of night, and he'd been slightly sea-sick, so he hadn't much of a chance to marvel at such a sight then.

Fiona made quick work of setting up a campsite together, setting up three tents and bedrolls for them all. Once that was complete she went over to the carriage, and after a moment came back with materials that one might use to create a campfire. One she had arranged the rocks and wood, and scorched a small pile of grass to create an effective pit, she tossed a small fireball into the wood, and within a few seconds they had a good fire going.

With that work done, they set about having their last meal of the day. Angelica peppered Fiona with questions about the Grey Wardens, and about Orzammar, which the Warden Mage was more than happy to answer. Alistair himself, however, kept silent, not feeling the urge to question the Warden himself. He lost track of Angelica's line of questioning not long after as he ate, and soon found himself caught up in his own morbid thoughts.

King Maric, dead at sea...for some reason, the thought kept haunting him, stayed within the forefront of his mind. But why? Why did he care? He never loved his father...and he still didn't. Alistair was shocked that the man was dead, of course. But...try as he might, he honestly couldn't bring himself to care about the fact that he had lost his father. He wasn't able to grieve over Maric's death, when he had no real feelings of love toward the King. Uldred had been more of a father to him than Maric ever was.

So why did he keep revolving the manner of death around in his head? Why?

Perhaps...because it was hard to believe? Maric, King of Ferelden, drowned at sea like some simple sailor? Something about that didn't...strike him as right.

Alistair may not have loved his father...but on some level, he did respect the man. There was no denying that he had been a horrible father, of course. Nothing would ever change that. He would never love or respect Maric the Man, the same Maric that threw away his bastard son, and selfishly thought that one single letter would make up for years of abandonment. At best, Alistair didn't care about Maric the Man, and at worst, he hated Maric the Man.

But Maric the Savior, Maric the Rebel, the Maric Theirin that had driven Orlais away from Ferelden, and ended a century of enslavement to the Orlesian Empire...that was an entirely different matter. Maric, the first free King of Ferelden since the end of the Orlesian Occupation. The same man that, alongside Queen Rowan and Teyrn Loghain, had rebuilt Ferelden and had made it into a strong nation again. A man who had made the impossible, possible.

That was the side of his father that the young Battlemage could respect. As a simple man, Maric had his contempt and loathing. But as King Maric the Savior...Alistair could honestly say, in that aspect of his life...he could respect his father.

It said a lot about Maric, and perhaps Alistair too, that the only thing his bastard son ever respected or even admired about him was his accomplishments as King. That his only saving grace was the superhuman feats he had performed to save his nation...

"Alistair." Angelica suddenly spoke his name, gaining the Mage's abrupt attention. He looked up from the campfire, and saw the woman's face etched in concern.

"I understand that you're going through a lot right now." she began, her voice laced with sympathy. "I'm here, however, if you want to talk about it..."

Alistair shifted uncomfortably, glancing away to the side. "What's there to talk about? It's...nothing. Really."

"It's not nothing, Alistair." Angelica denied, staring him down fiercely. "You've just left behind your friends at the Circle, and found out your father was dead not long after. It's not something you can brush aside."

"I guess." Alistair grumbled, looking down at the ground. He still didn't feel in that talkative a mood, but it seemed Angelica would be rentless in her pursuit of making him open up. Well, she meant well, at least. And maybe talking about this would help...

"I know you must miss your father, Alistair." she began, gazing at him with a sad look in her eye. "But—"

"I don't miss my father." the words came out automatically, before he senor his thoughts. Alistair winced and stared downed pointedly at the ground, wishing at once he could take his little declaration back.

Silence met his announcement, and after a moment, Alistair braved a look up. Both Angelica and Fiona were looking upon him, astonishment and confusion written all over their faces.

"You...do not miss your own father?" Fiona began, her tone incredulous.

Alistair sighed and glanced back down. Wonderful. Just wonderful...

"...Well, yes and no." he replied at last, knowing the two older women wouldn't leave him alone until he provided an answer. "I...well, I'm sorta sad to hear he's dead, I guess. And surprised. I mean, he was a pretty good King, all things considered. But..."

Angelica stared at him intensely, and gestured with her hand. "But what, Alistair?"

"But he wasn't a good father." he finished with a small sigh. "I...haven't even considered him as my father for a few years now. I mean, I know he's my birth father, I guess, but...well, Uldred has been more of a father to me than Maric ever was."

That declaration was met with even more incredulous looks from the two Elven Mages. Though Alistair couldn't really blame them; his relationship with his father was...complicated. To say the least.

"I'm sure Uldred would be touched to hear you say that," Angelica began carefully, eyeing him strangely. "But...well, I do not mean to pry, Alistair. But why do you have such feelings toward Maric? If you don't mind my asking."

Alistair continued to stare down at the ground, but now he was starting to feel less and less uncomfortable. It felt...good, actually. To get all of this off of his chest. For years, he'd had no one to talk to about his strained relationship with Maric. But know, he had the chance to let it all out, so to speak. That...felt nice, in a way. Now he didn't have to keep it all bottled up inside.

"He abandoned me." Alistair stated bluntly, a bitter tone seeping through his voice. "I mean, I sorta understand why he did it now. He didn't want to harm Queen Rowan's reputation, so I can see why he'd foster me off to someone else. But...well, he picked a bad person to send me to."

And that was another reason he loathed his father...Maric had sent him to Arl Eamon. Eamon Guerrin, the brother to the former queen. How did Maric not see that this might not be a good idea? Did he not consider that giving his brother-in-law his bastard child might be a slap in the face against Rowan? And why hadn't his father even considered giving him to Loghain instead? They were friends, weren't they? Wouldn't have Loghain been a more preferable guardian for his bastard son than Eamon?

But those were questions that likely would never be answered, now that his father was dead. And Alistair would just have to live with that.

He looked up and saw that Angelica and Fiona wanted more answers; Angelica was starting to look rather concerned, for her part, and Fiona...seemed concerned as well. Odd. Why would she really care about him? They'd just met, after all.

"My father sent me to live with Arl Eamon." he went on, a small scowl fixed on his face.

"Eamon...wasn't a nice man. I grew up with his treatment, so I never really gave it much thought. But after five years in the Tower...well, I started to see just how much of a bastard he was. Eamon forced me to live in the stables. He didn't welcome me into his castle, or even foster me off to one of his loyal knights or maybe even his brother or something; he forced me to live in the stables outside of the castle. Looking back at it now, it was...humiliating.

"I was given stale food to eat, a pile of hay was my only real bed in there, and as soon as I was old enough to comprehend orders, Eamon had me working as one of the stablehands, taking care of the horses. He visited me every so often, he and his brother Teagan. Teagan...honestly, I think Teagan really did care for me. He seemed...sincere in his affection, and always read me good stories. Eamon, though...he just pretended.

"He pretended to care about me, about my well being. But looking back at it now, I know that if he had ever had even a speck of love for me, he never would have forced me to live in the stables like some sort of...dog, or something. And you know what Eamon was planning to do with me? When I turned ten, he decided to send me off to become a Templar! Of course, I discovered my magic before the Templars could take me away, but still...he was more than willing to make me a bloody Templar! And I have no doubt whatsoever I would have been miserable with such a fate.

"I hate Arl Eamon. I hate him a great deal. But I hate my father even more for sending me to live with him."

Alistair finished his little speech, and flushed when he realized all that he had said. He'd even gotten a little heated and passionate toward the end, which made things even worse.

He continued to stare down at the ground, morbidly anticipating his companions' reactions. When he had no reply, he braved a look upwards and caught a glimpse of Angelica and Fiona. Fiona, oddly enough, was ashen and pale-faced, clearly distressed by what he had said. Angelica herself though...

The young Battlemage sucked in a breath, and ducked his head back down. Angelica was livid. Absolutely livid. He'd never even seen her that angry before. He didn't even know that people's faces could redden like that! Oh Maker, he never should have said anything...

"That BASTARD!" Angelica exploded in fury, jumping to her feet. She shot off a string of words in Tevinter, before giving a frustrated yell as she started to pace back and forth at the campsite.

Alistair resisted the urge to gag and felt his ears turn red. Oh Maker. He didn't even want to know where Angelica had heard that particular insult. It certainly gave a new meaning to the phrase, 'son of a bitch'.

"That utter bastard!" Angelica fumed again, wringing her hands together. "Both of them! Utter bastards! Especially that Arl Eamon! If I ever lay my eyes on him, I swear I will kill him! They had no right! No right! No father should send his child into such a situation, and that damned Arl...I swear, he's almost as bad as Urien! No one has any right to treat a child that way! That utter bastard!"

Angelica cursed again, seething with anger. Abruptly, she paused in her pacing, before heading straight over to him. She knelt in front of Alistair and brought her hands to his shoulders.

"Alistair, look at me." the Elven woman insisted, glaring fiercely at him when he refused to meet her gaze. He did so, quite reluctantly, and was caught quite off guard by the sympathy and pain Angelica held in her eyes.

She wrapped her arms around his back, hugging him fiercely. The young lad himself was too shocked to return the gesture, but Angelica did not seem to mind. She parted after a moment, and looked him squarely in the eyes.

"I am so sorry for what you've gone through, Alistair." the former Enchanter spoke softly, her voice tinged with sorrow. "I had no idea you had such a horrid life outside the Circle. Maker, Alistair...I'm so sorry. I can see why you don't like your father. Even if Maric didn't think something like that could happen to you...I can see why you'd resent him for sending you to such an awful man."

Angelica leaned in and hugged him again, squeezing him something fierce. Alistair blushed and looked nervously to the side, feeling more than a little undeserving of such...well, motherly love and affection.

"It's nothing, really." he protested, feeling his cheeks color a tad. "I've...made peace with what happened ages ago. You...you don't have to be so worried about me, Angelica."

"It still shouldn't have happened, Alistair." she whispered back, squeezing him tighter.

He had no real response to that, and so he just hugged her back, happy to feel her touch and love. Angelica truly did act like his mother...no. She was his mother. They may not have been related by blood, but for all intents and purposes, Angelica was his mother now. She had been there for him, for all of them, always eager to give a kind word or helpful advice. She had bonded with them all so much, that Alistair could well and truly consider Angelica his mother, even if she wasn't the woman that gave birth to him.

After another moment together, they parted. Angelica stood back up, granting him a smile. She went over and returned to her original seat beside Fiona. Alistair glanced at her briefly, wondering what she thought of the whole thing. Her expression puzzled him; for some odd reason, their guide had a...well, melancholy look on her face. And she seemed to be staring at him rather...well, oddly.

Well, it wasn't any of his business. Maybe she hadn't liked hearing about his treatment under Arl Eamon. Or maybe hearing about his childhood had brought up unpleasant memories of her own. He wasn't the only person in Thedas with a troubled past, after all.

Things settled down after that bit of drama, thankfully. They put out the fire and got ready for bed...well, not all of them, at least. Fiona insisted upon taking up watch for the night, though Angelica managed to cajole her into allowing her to take up a second watch, so that the Warden wouldn't have to stay up all night.

As he straightened out his bedroll, Alistair couldn't help but talk to Angelica one last time. There was another matter he was desperate to know about. And surely she wouldn't mind answering...

"Will I ever see Talia, Jowan, Emilia, Anders, and Uldred again?" he suddenly blurted out, glancing over hopefully at the Elven Enchanter. Angelica blinked and turned to him, pausing in her work to put up a protective glyph around the campsite. Well, another one, at least. Fiona had put one up earlier, but Angelica insisted on adding to the work, just to be safe.

He fully expected Angelica to dance around the issue, or even reply in the negative, but to his honest surprise, she nodded instead.

"Maker willing, Alistair, yes." she added, her expression determined, but hopeful.

"As soon as Emilia, Talia, and Jowan have reached their Majority, I will go to the Circle myself and Conscript them into the Grey Wardens. I will not let my children rot in that Tower any longer than necessary, if I can help it. As for Anders and Uldred...well, I suppose it depends. Anders might actually find the freedom he seeks with the Wardens, so perhaps you'll see him outside the Circle, one day. Uldred...I honestly cannot say.

"There is something at the Circle that keeps Uldred bound to it; I suspect he could have escaped a dozen times over by now, and yet, for one reason or another, he hasn't. Still, that is Uldred's choice, and I must respect his wishes. But for your friends themselves, yes, I know you will see them again." Angelica punctuated her statement with an uplifting smile, which actually did work to make Alistair feel better.

Hearing that was good news, for sure. He'd hardly been away from the Circle a day, and already he desperately missed his friends. Kinloch Hold itself he hardly missed, but the people he knew and loved there...already, it felt hard for him, to leave them behind. Even if it was unexpected, he was being carted away to freedom, while his friend still remained behind, trapped in the Circle. That...hardly seemed fair. But it was good to know that Angelica was willing to do something about it. He'd hate to leave them all there, stuck in that horrid Tower for the rest of their lives...

"Thanks for telling me that, Angelica." Alistair replied, after a moment. He looked up at her and found a happy smile grace his face. "It's...uh, good to hear that. I'm glad I'll get to see them again."

"You can write to them, as well." Angelica supplied, smiling in return. "I can pass any letters you want to send to the Mages' Collective, and they'll send them over to Uldred, who will in turn, pass them to whoever you've written. And don't worry about explaining the situation to them, either; I left Emilia a brief note, explaining everything. Well...mostly everything; at the very least, they will know you had to leave the Tower for your own safety."

Alistair nodded and beamed at her, pleased to hear this as well. Even if he wouldn't see them all again for a good number of years, it would be nice to write to them, at least. He'd hate to lose complete contact with them all.

"You have a contact with the Mages' Collective? I must admit, I'm impressed. Those aren't easy to gain." Fiona spoke up, giving Angelica a surprised look. The runaway Mage curtly nodded, a smirk crossing her face.

"Oh yes, of course. Well...he's not my contact, per say, but Uldred's actually. Still, he's used to working for us both, and I imagine it won't be any different now that I shall soon become a Grey Warden." Angelica replied.

Alistair stared at them both, his curiosity peeked. "What's the Mages' Collective?"

The two Elves stopped short, and then stared at him as if he had grown an extra head.

"You've got to me kidding me." Fiona spoke flatly, her face incredulous.

"Ah...should I know what that is?" Alistair guessed, blushing slightly.

Angelica raised an eyebrow, shaking her head slightly. "And you call yourself a Mage, Alistair? What proper Mage doesn't grow up with stories about the Collective? I heard all about it when I was a child at the Circle."

"As did I." Fiona concurred. "You are...sure you haven't heard of the Collective?"

Alistair helplessly shrugged. "I, uh, think I'd remember anything to do with a collective of Mages."

Angelica shook her head, a light frown forming across her face. "Well, the Templars at the Tower must have cracked down on information regarding to the Mages' Collective. Well, no matter. I'll see that you learn now! The Collective is a loosely aligned group of Circle and Apostate Mages, mostly Apostate Mages, but almost every Circle of Magi in Thedas have some members that are apart of the Collective; a representative, if you will.

"Anyway, the Collective is a group of mostly underground Mages that does its best to subvert Chantry control in every way possible; shuffling on the run Mages from safe house to safe house until they can reach freedom in Tevinter, bribing Templars and priests so they can find out when the Chantry goes after certain Apostates or known Collective allies, setting up an underground mailing system for Mages to use so they don't risk the fear of the Chantry scrutinizing any letters...things like that."

Fiona took over as Angelica paused, easily reciting, "The Collective also does its best to fight for the freedom of Magekind whenever it can...covertly, and subtly, at any rate. Mostly, they work on the small things. Better treatment of captured Apostates, less crackdowns on Circle Mages, setting up bought out Templars in high positions of power. Whatever they know they can get away with. It isn't much, admittedly, but it makes life for Mages everywhere more bearable and tolerable. The Grey Wardens are allies of the Collective as well, at least, unofficially. Weisshaupt doesn't like to make the alliance a public matter, but we often take in Mages from the Collective, as an alternative to running to Tevinter."

"Truly?" Angelica questioned, raising an appraising eyebrow. "I did not know that. Well, an alliance between the Collective and the Wardens does make a good amount of sense. They'd get more help from them in recruiting Mages than from the Chantry, I wager."

Alistair stared blankly at them both, more than a little flabbergasted. Their whole spiel about the Collective seemed almost impossible to believe, but from their serious tones, he doubted that Angelica and Fiona were lying. Still...it was a bit much! How could one organization, especially one devoted to Mages, remain at large? Surely the Chantry would have hunted down every last member of the Collective, by now.

He said as much to them both, and half expected them to laugh, revealing that all this talk was some sort of joke. But Angelica responded quite studiously, as she stated,

"Oh, the Chantry has tried. More than once. But the Collective is deep underground, and has no real central leadership. It's nearly impossible for the Chantry to destroy the Collective. Individual cells, perhaps, if they can even manage that! No one Collective member knows anything beyond the vaguest of details of their local comrades-in-arms, and most Collective Mages do their best not to be taken alive. And, to make matters worse for the White Chantry, the Collective receives heavy support from Tevinter; be it in funds, manpower, banned spells, what have you. It's...a little impressive, actually. The one organization in all of Thedas devoted to Mages, and the Chantry is powerless to stop it. Quite fitting, I'd say." she supposed, a smirk gracing her features.

Alistair blew out a breath, and held a hand to his head. Maker, that was...the Collective was...wow. Just...wow. He could hardly process all of that. It almost made him want to become a member of the Collective, instead of a Grey Warden! The way they easily subverted the Chantry like that certainly earned the organization his respect.

Still, becoming a Grey Warden would offer him complete and official freedom from the Chantry, and, well, he was already on the way to Orzammar. A bit late to change career paths now. Though maybe he could join the Collective after he became a Warden? That didn't sound unreasonable. No doubt many Warden Mages doubled as active representatives and agents of the Collective.

"Alright, I think that's enough of shattering your world view, Alistair." Angelica stated with a chuckle, breaking through his thoughts. "Come on, you've got to rise up early in the morning, and I have the second shift on watch in a few hours. I think we both need our sleep now."

"Ah, right. Sorry for keeping you up." Alistair replied, blushing a little.

Angelica assured him it was no worry, and soon ducked into her tent, ready to rest her eyes. Alistair went over to his own tent, prepared to go to sleep, but he stopped. He looked over at Fiona, who sat near the cooling embers of the fire, keeping watch over the camp. He walked over to her, and granted the older Warden a smile.

"I, um, didn't say this before, so...um, thanks. I know it was Commander Duncan and Uldred that planned this whole thing out, but still...you, uh, have my thanks, Fiona. I'm glad that you're here to help us." he thanked, hoping he didn't come off as too awkward.

Fiona looked up at him, studying his face for a moment through the pale moonlight. A smile of her own blossomed across her cheeks. "You are most welcome, Alistair. It is...the least I can do. I was a friend of your father, so I felt it was only right to help out his...son."

"You knew my father?" Alistair inquired, surprised.

"Not well enough, apparently." Fiona muttered, a dark look flashing through her eyes. "But yes, I did. We journeyed together in the Deep Roads, for a time. And in battle, it is hard not to bond with those you fight with."

Alistair blinked, but nodded at that. He did recall reading somewhere that his father had taken two journeys into the Deep Roads; once during the Rebellion, with Teyrn Loghain and Queen Rowan, and a second time maybe a year before his own birth, with a group of Grey Wardens. He hadn't even suspected that Fiona might have been one of those Wardens, though! That was quite surprising.

And speaking of the Deep Roads...

"What are they like? The Deep Roads, I mean. Is it...well, scary?" he couldn't help but ask, an edge of nervousness creeping into his voice.

Fiona paused in her speech, unsure of what to say. She finally settled with, "Yes, I'm afraid so, Alistair. The Deep Roads are a nightmarish place, but it is something we Grey Wardens must brave through, I'm afraid. If it's any consolation, we shall not be in the Deep Roads long. No more than a few hours, if that."

That didn't console him all that much, but it did make sense. Besides, he was a young man now, a child no longer! He would bravely face whatever the Deep Roads threw at him. And he'd have Angelica and the Wardens at his side too, wouldn't he? That would certainly even out the odds, no doubt.

"Now, you should go to sleep. You've stayed up long enough, and we have an early morning ahead of us." Fiona advised, gesturing at his tent with her staff.

Alistair nodded, and bade his Warden guide a good night. He walked back over to the tent and slipped inside. He worked himself into the bed roll, and for a brief moment, marveled at the fact he was actually sleeping on the ground. He hadn't slept on anything but a bed for the past five years. Last time he had sleeping arrangements like this was back in...Redcliffe.

Banishing such unhappy memories away, Alistair shifted in his bedroll, and attempted to get a good night of sleep. He doubted he'd be able to gain much, due to the rough and hard terrain, but it was worth a shot, anyway. And it ought to be easy to get some good sleep outside of the constantly rolling and rattling carriage, anyway...

---

They continued the journey to Orzammar for the next few days, and along the way, they settled into a small routine, of sorts. Fiona would keep them traveling through most of the day, and aside from some sporadic breaks here and there, they did not stop until nightfall. Then, they would share dinner around a campfire, and retire for the night. Only to wake up early in the morning, and continue onward to their destination.

Still, all things considered, it could have been worse. The Templars never managed to catch up with them, and they rarely encountered anyone else traveling along the roads. They had been nearly ambushed by a group of bandits near nightfall on the third day, true, but a single fireball tossed from Fiona had sent their would be attackers running away, screaming for mercy. So no harm on that front, thankfully.

It was toward the evening of the fifth day when they finally reached Orzammar. After a treacherous and nerve-raking day of Fiona guiding the horses through the twisting passes of the Frostback Mountains, Alistair was more than glad to see his trip finally come to an end. Even better, he could finally sleep on an actual bed! That would be even better.

He exited the carriage with Angelica, and they stepped onto the rocky and coarse ground of the Frostback Mountains. Alistair shivered slightly and rubbed his arms with his hands; it was rather chilly here! But that was no surprise. The Frostback Mountains were, well, always damn cold any time of the year; it was especially worse at winter, no doubt, which made him thankful that it was late spring. After being housed inside a warm, temperate Tower for more than half a decade, he likely would have lost much of the resistance to cold he'd gained during his years at Redcliffe.

He looked over to Angelica, who shivered as well. No doubt she had an even worse time bearing through the cold, having spent the past thirty or so years in Kinloch Hold. Still, at least they'd get inside soon! ...Right? Or was there a wait time to get into Orzammar? That might not be too surprising. Orzammar no doubt got a lot of business from the outside world...

Toward the front of the carriage, Fiona stepped off, hopping onto the ground. She conversed briefly with a man who had walked over to their carriage, and handed him...something. A few sovereigns, perhaps. Either way, the man nodded at their Grey Warden guide and got up onto the driver's seat of the carriage, taking the reins. He led the horses away, no doubt to some sort of holding pen where merchants stowed away their animals while in the underground city.

Fiona strode over to them, a small smile working its way onto her face. "Thank the Maker, we are here at last. Just in time, too. I was fearful that we might have to camp out in the Mountains, before arriving here."

"I am certainly glad that did not happen." Angelica agreed, nodding. She glanced off over in the distance, locking her gaze onto the imposing gates of Orzammar. "So, what now? How long do we wait?"

"Wait?" Fiona cocked her head, puzzled. Her expression brightened a few seconds later.

"Ah, you misunderstand. Simple merchants might have to submit to a waiting period before gaining entrance into Orzammar, but the Grey Wardens...and their recruits...have no such constraints. We can get into Orzammar immediately, and hopefully into a proper bed, not long after." she explained.

Alistair blew out a breath, happy to hear that. He would have hated sleeping out here, in such horrid weather. No doubt he'd shiver much too often to get any good sleep.

Fiona led the way to the gates, and as they walked, Alistair took a few sparse moments to let his eyes wander around.

The shanty town—that was the right word, wasn't it? It seemed an appropriate description of the various stalls and tents that pocketed the area—around the gates of Orzammar was...an interesting sight. All over the place, merchants were shouting about their wares, inviting everyone to look through their stock. On one side, he could see a weapon's merchant haggling price about a sword some buyer was examining; on the other, he caught a glimpse of a female merchant waving around a piece of fabric, proclaiming it to be authentic Orlesian silk, and that it was the finest in all the lands.

All around him, controlled chaos was at work, as the various merchants of the area sought to entice potential buyers to their stalls. He could certainly see why so many merchants would stack a claim here, even in such a cold environment. Orzammar had always been a trading hub, most especially with the deal they had with the Chantry for Lyrium. Anyone seeking to make some decent coin in these parts could probably set up a good shop here.

If there was time, perhaps he could look through all these stalls later, after he became a Grey Warden? He didn't have any money on him, but it'd be nice to look, anyway. He'd done that often when in Redcliffe, so it wasn't new for him to window shop.

They climbed up the small steps leading up to the gate, and soon stood before a slouched and bored looking Dwarf in impressive armor. Before Fiona could get a word in, though, the guardsman spoke first.

"What is your business in Orzammar?" the guard inquired, his voice monotone and dull. Alistair wouldn't be surprised if he had to ask that question often.

Fiona reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. She handed it to the guard, and stated, "I am the Grey Warden Fiona. These two are my recruits. I believe that should be enough for you."

The Dwarf straightened himself, and briefly scanned the document, eyes wide. He swiftly nodded and handed the parchment back to Fiona. A newfound look of respect hung in his eyes.

"Welcome to Orzammar, Warden and recruits! Please, follow me."

The guard turned and bellowed out an order to his fellow workers. Within a few moments the gates of Orzammar swung open, and the armored Dwarf briskly led them inside. A large metal construction awaited them. The doors of the machine were pulled open by the original guard and another of his kind, and they were ushered in to the machine.

"Atrast Vala, and welcome to Orzammar, Wardens." the guard declared, a genuine smile crossing his face. "It is a pleasure to have you."

"The pleasure is all ours." Fiona replied, bringing her forearms to her chest, crossing them, and bowing slightly to the Dwarf.

The doors to the contraception were closed shut, and the machine began its descent. Alistair was a bit startled by the sudden motion, but he vaguely remembered reading about this machine in books about Orzammar. A marvel of Dwarven engineering, many said. Though for the life of him, he couldn't remember the technical name of this machine.

After a short trip, they arrived at last in Orzammar proper. The doors to the construction were opened by more armored Dwarves, who ushered them in to the city, revealing to them the splendor and majesty of the underground city.

It was...a breathtaking sight, to say the least! It was nothing like Alistair had ever seen before. Not even drawn renderings of the last Dwarven city could compare to the beauty that Orzammar contained! It was certainly one of the most unique things he had ever seen in his life.

All about them, Dwarven people strode and milled about, going on with their everyday lives. That in of itself was quite interesting, too. He had never seen so many Dwarves in one place. Truly, he had hardly seen any person of Dwarven descent at all! Dwarves couldn't be Mages, so he had never seen a Dwarf at the Circle, and the Dwarven population of Redcliffe could be counted on one hand.

"The Warden Compound is over in the Diamond Quarter." Fiona commented, distracting Alistair from his gawking. "We'll go there now and see if Duncan has arrived yet. And, of course, to settle down for the night."

Angelica gave an acknowledging nod, as her eyes scanned the sights before them. "That sounds good to me. Will we be going into the Deep Roads tomorrow, then, if Ser Duncan is here?"

"Perhaps." Fiona gave a small shrug. "It all depends on what Duncan thinks is best. And, I think it'd be wise just to call him 'Duncan', Angelica. Grey Wardens do not have titles, nor do we wish to be called by titles."

Angelica blushed slightly, and murmured her apologizes.

With that matter settled, the three of them walked through Orzammar, Fiona once again acting as their guide. Alistair couldn't help but continue to look about the city, his eyes taking in every last detailing of the stout and sound buildings of Orzammar.

After a few minutes of travel, they arrived in the so called Diamond Quarter, and Fiona swiftly led them to the Grey Warden Compound. Much like the estates of the Dwarven Noblemen, the Compound was rather ornate, at least ornate in Dwarven sensibilities, and was rather large. The young Battlemage couldn't help but feel a might impressed; he wondered if the headquarters of the Wardens in Ferelden would look as nice as the compound in Orzammar.

Fiona led them in, and at once they were greeted by a female Dwarven servant.

"Welcome, Warden Fiona! It is good to see you again." she greeted kindly informed, bowing slightly to the Elf. "Commander Duncan arrived the other day, and has been expecting you."

"Ah, good. I had hoped he was here." Fiona inclined her head toward the servant, and glanced back at Angelica and Alistair. "I will go on ahead and meet with Duncan, debrief him about our travels. In the meantime, the both of you are welcome to relax and unwind. Griselda here can show you to your rooms."

"Right this way, my lord and lady." Griselda bowed to them as well, and gestured off to the side, where a hallway branched off from the main room.

Alistair blinked, staring oddly at the Dwarven lass. He never thought he'd actually be addressed as 'lord' by anyone. That felt...well, odd, to say the least! But Griselda was probably being polite, so there wasn't any harm to it.

Alistair waved Fiona off, and joined his former mentor in following Griselda. The Dwarf led them down a series of halls, before stopping inbetween two wide doors.

"Here we are! This is your room, Lady Angelica, and the one next to it is yours, Lord Alistair! Commander Duncan had us prepare them for you in anticipation of your arrival. I hope you find everything to your liking. If you need anything, please, do not hesitate to ask." Griselda bowed once more to them, and swiftly retreated, disappearing as she backtracked down the hall.

Angelica stared off after her, shaking her head. "I never thought I'd see the day I was addressed as 'Lady'. That feels very..."

"Weird?" Alistair offered, chuckling. Angelica laughed herself and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes! You certainly never see the Templars addressing any Mage like that. It's very odd. But, we shouldn't dwell on that for long. I suppose we should do as Fiona suggested, and unwind from our journey. I do not know about you, Alistair, but I am certainly eager to sleep in a real bed again. That is a simple luxury I never thought I'd miss from the Circle, but, here we are." she chuckled again, and opened the door to her room, peering in. A surprised noise came out of her mouth.

"My, this is marvelous! Certainly more extravagant than my quarters at Kinloch Hold..."

Curious himself, Alistair turned the knob to his door, and looked within. He instantly agreed with Angelica; it looked amazing!

The room was furnished splendidly, almost befitting of a nobleman. The floor was a polished black marble, which shone brightly from the light within the room. Ornate rugs littered the floor, which matched quite well with the floor itself. A few dressers and cabinets were scattered in the room, carved magnificently and painted quite well. A writing desk was also placed within the quarters, which looked rather nice as well. And the bed itself was no doubt the crowning achievement of the room; it was decorated with silk sheets, and looked big enough to house half of the boys in the Apprentice Dormitory, and then some!

"It's quite...fancy." Alistair managed, mouth agape.

"It is." Angelica agreed, a wide grin on her face. "Have I mentioned I love the Grey Wardens, yet? Because I do. I certainly do. If this is the bedroom of a mere recruit, it makes me wonder what our quarters might look at the Warden headquarters!"

Alistair laughed, a grin spreading across his own face. "I can hardly imagine! And I'm...actually surprised to see the bed is human sized. Almost expected it to be made for a Dwarf."

Angelica let out a mirthful chuckle, shaking her head wryly. "Well, this is the Grey Warden Compound in Orzammar. And considering the majority of Grey Wardens are Elves and Humans, I'm not too surprised they made furniture to accommodate such taller beings."

He saw the merit in that statement, and smiled again as he gazed into the room. Braving the Deep Roads didn't seem so bad now! Especially if he could sleep in that wonderful looking bed for just one night...

Alistair ventured into his room, closing the door behind him. After giving one last sweeping gaze over the entire room, he made a beeline to the bed, and jumped on it, laughing softly as he landed.

Oh, he could get used to this! The bed felt so comfortable, it felt like he could melt into the mattress. This would be a great place to...rest his eyes...for a few minutes, while he waited for Fiona to come back for them...

---

The young Mage suddenly snapped back into consciousness, as he felt a hand lightly shake his shoulder.

"Wake up, Alistair. S...er, Duncan has asked to meet with us both." Angelica proclaimed, as he rubbed at his eyes.

"What? Oh! S-Sorry." Alistair blushed and straightened himself on the bed. "I was just, um, resting my eyes..."

"It's fine, Alistair. I'm tired too. But Duncan wishes to talk with us over dinner. Once that is done with, you can sleep longer." Angelica replied, smiling gently at him.

Alistair nodded and climbed out of the comfortable bed, stretching slightly as he stood. He peered over at the doorway and noticed Fiona standing by, an odd look on her face. Though as soon as he noticed it, it appeared to vanish, and a more warm expression was planted upon her face.

Alistair followed the two Elves through the corridors, until he was led into a large dining hall. A spacious table took up most of the room, long enough to seat well over two or three dozen men, if not more.

At the very head of the table, an older, dark-skinned man sat; Warden-Commander Duncan, if Alistair remembered correctly. On either side of him, two other men rested at the table. One was the youngest of the men at the table, perhaps no more than twenty five years of age. He sported a staff that he leaned against the table, which made Alistair guess he was the Mage Duncan had recruited at the Circle so many years ago...Markl, was it? And as for the either man...well, he was quite different from his companions, to say the least. The final man at the table was an ox of a man, the tallest Human Alistair had ever seen! He easily towered over Duncan and Markl. He seemed almost as tall as a Qunari. Hm, perhaps the man had some Kossith blood in him, then? That might make sense...

Alistair was broken out of his thoughts when Duncan suddenly spoke up.

"Welcome, Alistair and Angelica! We have been expecting you." The Warden-Commander beamed at them brightly, and gestured for them to take a seat. "Come, join us for dinner. We can discuss the coming days while we eat."

Alistair took one glance at the food already on the table, and felt his stumble rumble. He grinned and nodded at Duncan, eager to get something to eat. He took a seat next to the rather tall and muscly warrior on Duncan's right, while Angelica took a seat next to Markl, and Fiona herself took the seat next to Alistair.

"Ah, and let me introduce my companions as well." Duncan added, gesturing broadly over to the two men at his side. "You've already met Fiona, so there is no need to introduce here. And I believe you both might recognize Markl from his days at the Circle. The man to my left, however, is unfamiliar to you, I imagine. He is Black Whirlwind, one of my finest warriors."

"Black Whirlwind?" Angelica issued a surprised stare over at the large man. "That is an...unusual name."

"Ha! It's a normal name where I come from." Whirlwind rumbled, a deep chuckle escaping through his mouth. "It's you funny foreigners who have the weird names! Names like 'Duncan' or 'Markl' would never pass in the Jade Empire!"

Angelica raised an eyebrow and tossed the Warden-Commander a puzzled look.

"This 'Jade Empire' is apparently the place Whirlwind is from." Duncan easily explained, sounding as if he had talked about this many times before. "Whirlwind claims to be from a nation across the sea from Thedas. Whether or not this is true, I cannot say, but he is good with his axes, and so long as he is able to fight the Darkspawn, I am content to let him say or believe whatever he wishes."

"Which is Duncan's way of saying he thinks I'm insane!" Whirlwind clarified, a boisterous laugh thundering from his lungs. "But it doesn't matter if he believes me or not! I know where I'm from, and that's all that matters. Besides, Ferelden ain't all that bad. Best nation I've seen yet on this continent. Plus, you Thedosians in general know how to make some decent wine. A big bonus in your favor, if you ask me."

Whirlwind punctuated that statement by taking a big gulp from his wine goblet, smacking his lips in satisfaction once he finished.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, let us eat." Duncan suddenly announced, cutting off any further questioning of Black Whirlwind. Angelica still peered over curiously at the muscle-bound warrior, but accepted Duncan's decision, as she reached over across the table and placed a slice of well cooked meat upon her plate.

Alistair as well joined Angelica the Grey Wardens in feasting upon the delicious food, and listened with half an ear while Duncan discussed details with Angelica and Fiona. He was rather eager to talk with Duncan himself, truth be told, to ask him any number of questions about the coming events; Fiona had been rather tight-lipped on how one became a Grey Warden, or what they would be expected to do, other than the fact a venture into the Deep Roads was necessary.

For the moment, however, he put off his questioning. His queries could wait...and he was more than content to enjoy the wonderful food on the table before him.

"It is best that we get this over with quickly. It will not be long until the Templars track you down to Orzammar. I am quite certain that King Endrin would be loathed to let the Templars cause a scene in tracking down any Apostates here, so he will no doubt delay their entrance into the city. However, that delay will not last forever, and eventually the Templars will be allowed into Orzammar." Duncan advised, taking a pause to drink from a goblet at his side.

"Thus, it is imperative that we put you and Alistair through the Joining process as soon as possible. The sooner you are both Grey Wardens, the better. You are both still untouchable as recruits, that is true, but once you are Wardens, your immunity to the Chantry will become permanent. If we delay your Joining long enough, I fear the Templars may try to use it to their advantage." he finished, a grim look on his face.

Angelica nodded her understanding, chewing a bite of the roasted Nug thoughtfully. She swallowed, and spoke aloud, "That makes sense. I do admit to loathing the general idea of going into the Deep Roads, but, if it is necessary for us to join the Wardens, so be it. Will we head out tomorrow then, Duncan?"

"Perhaps." the Warden-Commander allowed, dipping his head. "I am not entirely sure just yet. King Endrin has invited myself and the Wardens present to a feast he is holding at the palace tomorrow. Apparently, our arrival coincides with the fifteenth birthday of one of his children. If we can work in our Deep Roads venture before the feast, than we shall do it then. If we cannot...then it shall likely be the day after."

Angelica accepted that answer, giving a taciturn nod of her head. "Very well. That sounds good to me."

She turned her gaze over to Markl, and smiled warmly at him. "It's good to see you again, Markl. How have the Grey Wardens treated you?"

"Quite well!" he enthused, a cheery grin on his face. "I've enjoyed complete freedom with the Grey Wardens. It's so much better than being locked up in that stogy old tower on Lake Calenhad. You and Alistair will love it!"

"That is good to hear. I never imagined that I would become one of the Grey...but, it feels me with great excitement! And it is wonderful to be out of the Circle. Experiencing the outside world has been...glorious." Angelica mused, a pleasant smile on her face, as she remembered the days past.

Angelica trailed off, and let her talking die down. Conversation broke off for a time, as they all enjoyed the meal prepared by the Compound staff. It picked up again ten minutes later, when Duncan suddenly spoke.

"Is this what you truly want, Alistair?"

The question came out of the blue, and it took him a minute to realize Duncan had even spoken to him. Alistair looked up at the Warden-Commander, surprise evident on his face.

"Being a Grey Warden, I mean." Duncan shifted uncomfortably in his chair, a guilty expression overtaking his features. "It is a hard and dangerous life, and you did not exactly volunteer for it. Senior Enchanter Uldred and I planned this out for your best interests, of course, but I still cannot help but feel...guilty. Is this truly how you want to spend the rest of your life?"

The entire table was looking at him, now, to gauge his response. Fiona and Angelica seemed especially interested in what he had to say. Alistair was a little uncomfortable with such attention, but he didn't let it bother him too much. Now, what to say...

Did he want to be a Grey Warden? Well, he had certainly been enamored with the idea when he was younger. And, to some degree, he still was.

Except, instead of some vague notions of being a hero, he was more attracted to the freedom the Wardens offered him. Freedom from the Circle, from the Templars, from the Chantry in general. Freedom from being used and abused by malicious beings who wanted him because of the fact he was of Theirin blood. Freedom from being persecuted by those who feared his powers...

It was a very attractive offer. Sure, he'd have to fight Darkspawn for a living, but how bad could that possibly be? From all accounts, Darkspawn were mindless creatures, so outside of large swarms, they probably wouldn't be that hard to put down. And sure, he hadn't exactly been consulted about joining the Grey Wardens...but Duncan and Uldred had only been acting in his best interests! If it weren't for them, he would have been made Tranquil and shipped off to Orlais days ago.

So, with all that in mind, Alistair found his answer quite easily.

"Sure!" he declared with a bright, cheerful smile. "This was all...unexpected, but you and Uldred saved me from a fate worse than death, Duncan. I admit that fighting Darkspawn all the time doesn't sound so good, but it's a small price to pay for my freedom. So yes, I don't mind becoming a Grey Warden at all."

His answer seemed to satisfy Duncan, as the man smiled back at him and leaned back into his chair, issuing a relieved sigh. The rest of the table, especially Angelica and, oddly enough, Fiona, seemed to accept his reply as well.

With the focus shifted off of him, Alistair began to eat again. Discussions came and went sporadically over the dinner, but he did not pay too much attention to it all.

Some time later, the meal ended, and what remained of the food was taken away by the Dwarven servants. With their bellies full, the Grey Wardens and the two non-Warden Mages left the dining hall, to retire for the night.

Once he reached his room, Alistair gladly strode over to the bed and all but collapsed on it, eager for some sleep, and especially glad that he would be able to spend the night in an actual bed. Sleeping on the hard, unwelcoming ground the past five days had been manageable, but still very uncomfortable.

He pulled back the sheets, and settled in, drifting off into the Fade soon after.

---

A sudden shaking sensation, and the call of a familiar and soft voice brought Alistair back into the realm of mortals.

"Good morning, Alistair." Angelica greeted cheerily, as he groaned and rubbed at his eyes.

"Or...I think it's morning, at least. Hard to tell, when we're so far underground. Fiona says it's morning, at any rate, so I'll trust her. Now, come on! We've got to get moving. Duncan has decided to take us into the Deep Roads today after all, so we don't have much time to prepare. We'll eat breakfast here first, and head out afterward." she dutifully informed.

Alistair blearily nodded, and swung himself out of the bed. He stretched and yawned, slowly taking in everything his former mentor had said. He gulped nervously, and felt his heart start to flutter rapidly. He had honestly hoped for a brief day of respite, but he couldn't blame Duncan for wanting to move things forward. Still...he felt rather nervous about going into the Deep Roads. The idea of actually fighting Darkspawn still made him squirm slightly, and this whole secretiveness about how one actually became a Grey Warden was really starting to get to him.

He really should have remembered to ask Duncan some questions last night. Perhaps he might have gotten answers then...

But Alistair wasn't about to turn back now! Sure, he was nervous, maybe even a little scared, about the coming events, but he'd brave through them, no matter what. Especially if it saved him from being made a Tranquil by those bastard Orlesians.

"Alright. I'll see you for breakfast then, Angelica." the young Battlemage said, and waved her off. Once she was gone he changed into the clothes that Griselda had so kindly put out for him, and exited his room.

He came into the dining hall minutes later, and was quite surprised when Fiona abruptly appeared in his field of vision, thrusting a well made staff at him.

"Since you were an Apprentice, and did not yet own your own staff, I decided to grab a spare on my way to get you so you could have something to channel your magic with in the Deep Roads." the older Elven woman explained, as he took the magical device from her. "I hope it will serve you well, Alistair. If you find that it does not agree with you, however, I am sure that Duncan can have one commissioned for you at a later date."

"Um, sure. Thanks, Fiona." Alistair smiled brightly at his rescuer, as he measured the staff in his hands. It felt heavier than the ones he usually used when practicing Battlemagic with Uldred, but it'd probably do him nicely in the Deep Roads. He was glad that Fiona had had the foresight to get a staff for him! He had almost expected to go without one when they went for their venture in the Roads.

"You are quite welcome." the Orlesian Mage reassured, a fond smile tugging at the edges of her lips.

Alistair thanked her once more, and walked over to the table. He leaned his new staff against an empty chair, and started eating the already set breakfast enthusiastically. He only hoped that the Warden Compound in Denerim had cooks as fine as the ones in the Orzammar Compound.

An hour and a half later their breakfast was completed, and Warden-Commander Duncan led them away, ready to begin their venture into the Deep Roads. Markl, Whirlwind, even Fiona, to his surprise, were all suitably armed and armored, so they had no need to wait for anyone to suit up.

"I apologize that we have no armor for either of you two to wear." Duncan proclaimed, as they exited the Warden Compound. "This journey was quite...rushed, and time was of the essence, so I did not think to bring along a spare suit of leathers. However, once the Joining is completed, I will see to it that you both are fitted for armor."

That announcement puzzled Alistair for a few moments. Mages, wearing armor? That was...unexpected. Though considering Fiona herself wore armor, he shouldn't be too surprised. And...it made a good deal of sense, actually. A simple pair of robes certainly weren't enough to stop the blade of a Darkspawn, or any would be attacker. Wearing armor might actually be a good thing for him to do, once he left Orzammar. It might take some getting used to, of course, but if it helped keep his blood in his body, he certainly wouldn't object.

As they continued to walk, Duncan decided to fill them in some on the events to come. "As you both know, we are going into the Deep Roads to encounter Darkspawn. There, you both must slay a creature, and take up a vial of its blood. Once that is completed, we can begin the Joining."

Angelica raised an eyebrow, and Alistair himself blinked at this tidbit of information. They would need Darkspawn blood to join the Wardens? But why?

They proceeded their way through most of Orzammar, only stopping for more than a few minutes once they reached the city's entrance to the Deep Roads. Duncan briefly conversed with the guard captain, showing him some papers. The Dwarf briefly look through the document, before handing it back to the Warden.

"Alright boys, open the gates for the Wardens!" he bellowed out, sending his men into a flurry of action. He glanced back at Duncan and nodded his head in respect. "Stones guide and protect you, Wardens."

The gates were opened some moments later, and they were off once more. For the first few minutes, it wasn't that bad. This cleared section of Road looked quite pleasant, actually; Alistair took a moment to appreciate the fine Dwarven craftsmanship, and wondered what the Deep Roads must have been like when the Dwarven Empire was at its prime.

Then, they left the cleared area of Deep Roads around Orzammar. The different between the two sections was quite startling, and sudden.

Corruption and vile Taint began to liberally litter the walls in patches, a testament to the ever-vigilant presence of the Darkspawn. Side tunnels began to splinter off from the main stretch of the Roads, and the glimpses he caught of such tunnels showed none of the ingenuity and care that the Dwarven-made tunnels had.

"I hate being back in this place." Markl declared, a heavy scowl on his face. He clutched his staff tightly, and his eyes darted back and forth. "I don't have pleasant memories of this place. At all."

"I doubt any of us have pleasant memories of the Deep Roads. Now, suck it up, and keep moving forward." Fiona dryly retorted, sending a glare at the Junior Warden.

Markl huffed and grumbled, but did as the Elven Mage asked.

They continued their trek for a time, and Alistair began to wonder if they'd ever stop. Duncan came to an abrupt halt all of a sudden, however, and held his hand up. After a tense second he swiftly drew out his sword, sending the rest of the Wardens into action. Whirlwind raised up two fierce and deadly axes, and Fiona and Markl brought their staffs forward.

"Darkspawn approach." Duncan stated, more for the benefit for Angelica and Alistair, than anything else. "Whatever happens, do not hesitate, no matter what! A single moment's pause could get either of you killed."

Alistair swallowed hard, and tersely nodded, as he gripped his staff protectively. Angelica looked similarly grim-faced, but determined at the same time.

They had to wait only a minute before the Darkspawn were upon them.

They were hideous, horrid creatures; more abominations of nature than the actual Abomination that Alistair had once seen during his early years at the Circle. They were vile monsters, devoid of any semblance of humanity or intelligence. The Darkspawn merely yelled and howled as they charged at the Wardens, driven by pure instinct and malice.

Duncan and Whirlwind rushed forward to meet the unit of Tainted beasts. Duncan engaged in combat with a tall and wild Hurlock, while Black Whirlwind swung his axes wildly, decapitating a duo of Genlock in one blow.

Fiona and Markl launched a flurry of spells at the unprepared Darkspawn, felling many and slowing down others with their Magic. Angelica joined the fray when a pair of Hurlock charged at her; she paralyzed one and frying the other with lightning in a matter of seconds.

And then, a perversely grinning Genlock rushed up at Alistair himself, a wicked dagger held aloft in its grubby hand.

It took all of Alistair's self-will and strength not to freeze up on the spot, and get skewered by the beast. Remembering his training under Uldred, he quickly shot out a Hand of Winter spell upon the Darkspawn, freezing it solid. He followed up the attack with a Rock Fist, smashing the Genlock into thousands of bloody shards of ice.

He stared briefly at the remains of the Tainted beast, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. He felt a brief sense of elation at his victory. He had done it! He had actually done it! He had killed a Darkspawn with his own spell, with his own power! It was...unbelievable! He thought he might feel sick by killing another living being, but slaying a Darkspawn...it was a creature of pure evil and hate, thus making it very easy for him to feel no remorse over its passing.

His victory was short-lived, however. A charging Hurlock came upon his field of vision, and Alistair acted hastily, striking the foul beast dead with a bolt of lightning. And with that, he too joined the battle.

Between four Mages and two battle-hardened Warriors, it was not hard to wipe out a single group of Darkspawn. The vicious beasts were all put down soon enough, Alistair, Angelica, and the Grey Wardens victorious over the cursed monsters.

Alistair took a moment to pause and catch his breath, and felt his legs shake slightly. He had never been in a battle before, and this had been...beyond words, honestly. It was a rush, of course, and everything had passed by so quickly. But now that the adrenaline was running its course, he felt more than a little nervous and frightened. It was over now, though; or he hoped so, at least. With the Darkspawn dead, they could get on with joining the Grey Wardens.

Fiona walked over to him, and handed him a small glass vial and a knife. "We must work quickly. Scoop up a vial of Darkspawn blood, and give it to me. Once you and Angelica have collected yours, we can begin preparation for the Joining."

Alistair stared at the items for a second, before taking them. Fiona drifted off to give Angelica a vial and a knife of her own, leaving him alone with the corpses of the nearby Darkspawn.

He wasn't entirely sure...but now that the battle was over, the young Mage believed he had killed off at least a dozen of these foul creatures. An impressive record, no doubt, and for a mere recruit as well! Alistair felt very proud in his accomplishment. But, now that he was looking at the rotting bodies of these beings...

Ugh. Now he was starting to feel sick. Not because he had killed them, of course. But the Darkspawn themselves looked...disgusting. The sooner he was away from these monsters, the better.

Crouching down next to a Darkspawn he had earlier immolated, Alistair reached out with the knife and sliced open the beast's arm. Vile blood began to bleed from the wound, and he used it to fill up the vial. Once he had gotten it more than two thirds filled, he lifted the glass away and stood up. He corked the vial of Tainted blood, and went over to hand it to Fiona. The Grey Warden Mage nodded her thanks, and stowed it away.

Once Angelica returned with her own vial, they set off, journey back to Orzammar proper. Alistair was quite happy to get out of the Deep Roads, and still wondered what this Joining entailed...was it a Ritual of some sort? That might make sense. But what sort of ritual would involve the blood of...Darkspawn...

Blood. Blood. The blood of the Darkspawn...did this ritual have something to do with Bloodmagic? That was the only reason he could think of that they might collect such a vile substance...

Alistair was cut off from his musings when Duncan suddenly turned, and veered into one of the side tunnels. They traveled into the tunnel before coming upon a wide and vast cavern...and a natural one too, by the look of it. Not something carved up by the Darkspawn or Dwarves.

"This will do." Duncan announced, surveying the area. "Fiona, Markl, come with me. We must prepare for the Joining."

The two Warden Mages assented, and wandered off with Duncan to a distant corner of the cavern. Black Whirlwind remained with them, eying them closely as they waited. After what felt like an eternity, Duncan and the Mages returned, with Duncan himself carrying a large goblet in his hands.

Alistair stared at the cup with dread, and finally understood what they needed that Darkspawn blood for.

"Just as the first Wardens drank the blood of the Darkspawn to end the First Blight, so must we. In order to combat the ever-constant threat of the Darkspawn, we must take the very itself Taint within ourselves, and master it." Duncan announced, as he held the goblet aloft. He glanced over at Fiona, and nodded to her.

"Join us, brothers and sisters." she proclaimed, staring grimly at the two recruited Mages. "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."

Duncan held the goblet toward Angelica first. "Angelica, you are called to submit yourself to the Taint for the greater good. From this moment on, you are a Grey Warden."

Angelica stared numbly at the cup, pale-faced. She trembled and audibly gulped, but seemed to steel her nerves, as she nodded abruptly. She walked forward and carefully took the goblet from Duncan's hands. She gazed forward into the murky liquid, and closed her eyes. She brought her lips to goblet, and tipped it forward, swallowing.

Once she had gotten one swallow of the foul liquid down her throat, she jerked and hastily handed the cup back to Duncan. She groaned and started to sway...

...and fell back wordlessly, hitting the hard ground of the Deep Roads.

Duncan let out a breath of air, staring at the unconscious Elf. "She lives."

Alistair, who had stared wide-eyed at his mother-figure throughout the process, let out a relieved sigh of his own, glad to see that she had made it. People could die from drinking the blood of Darkspawn, couldn't they? He was glad that Angelica had not succumbed, though. He couldn't even imagine living in a world where Angelica was dead...

"Alistair." Duncan called to him, getting his attention. The Warden-Commander held out the goblet to him, now. "You are called to submit yourself to the Taint for the greater good. From this moment on, you are a Grey Warden."

Alistair breathed in shakily, as he stared in fear the goblet. Angelica had survived...but what if he wouldn't? What if he couldn't take in the Taint? He could very well die here...die in this Maker-forsaken place, and never get to see any of his friends or loved ones ever again...

Alistair cut off that train of thought, and took in a calming breath. Now was not the time for doubts. He had come this far, after all. And if he were to die today...

Well. Better to die, than to become a Tranquil.

Alistair stepped forward, and gently grabbed the Joining goblet from Duncan. He stared into the cloudy, crimson-red liquid, and felt another surge of fear pass through him. There was no turning back now...

Like Angelica, Alistair closed his eyes, and abruptly brought the cup to his mouth. He took in a single gulp of the foul substance...and regretted it instantly.

He gasped and nearly tossed the cup to Duncan, as he started to sway. The vile Taint burned at his esophagus, and filled his mouth with a horrid taste. He nearly doubled over, feeling a coughing sensation well up within him, ready to burst out of his lips at any moment...

But it never came. Instead, Alistair blacked out, and tumbled backwards to the unforgiving floor of the Deep Road.

---

And so, it begins. Alistair is now a Grey Warden. As is Angelica, too! Bet you guys didn't see that coming. I nearly considered killing Angelica off, but I decided her dying here and now would serve no real purpose.

And Fiona's joined the party too! Interesting turn of events, no? But when Duncan received word of what the Chantry and Orlais had planned for Alistair, I doubt he would keep it a secret from Alistair's own mother.

Oh, and the one year anniversary of Alistair the Mage just passed! Wow, can you believe it? A whole damn year has passed since I started this fanfic. Hard to believe, for sure. I haven't gotten nearly as far as I would have liked in a year, but what happens, happens. Hopefully I can get farther in the years to come for this fanfic!

I hope you all enjoyed this latest installment of Alistair the Mage. See you all next time, folks! :)