Part XXI
For the last few days, Alistair had the strangest feeling gnawing at him. Something out there was calling to him. It was as if something inside him had awakened. What it was, the king had no clue. All he knew was the he had to find the source. To that end, he gathered up his best knights and traveled northwest, in the direction the feeling was pulling him. The bard, Leliana, still being in Denerim at the time, joined them.
About a days journey along the main road outside Denerim, the group happened to meet upon the old mage, Wynne and the apprentice Zakary. They were apparently headed to see The Warden at the royal palace about some urgent business. Alistair informed Wynne that The Warden and Morrigan had left for Highever a few weeks earlier.
"We're headed toward Highever now." The king said to Wynne, "The past few days I've had this eerie feeling that seems to pull me in that direction."
"What sort of feeling?" the old mage asked.
"I can't really describe it. It's almost like a voice in the back of my mind, only I can't make out what it's saying." Alistair answered, "The closer we get to Highever the stronger it becomes."
"Do you know if he has the Orbs of Arastani with him?"
"He still had them when he left Denerim."
The old mage's expression grew serious, "This is far worse than I feared. We must find them quickly, You're Majesty."
Alistair groaned, "Not you, too."
"It's something you're going to have to get used to being called, Alistair." Wynne said with a small grin.
"It still makes my skin crawl every time I hear it."
Wynne and Zakary accompanied the king as he traveled towards the northern coast, and Highever. Along the way, the old mage explained to Alistair the seriousness of the situation. And if what she told him was true, all of Ferelden was in danger. It was highly imperative that neither The Warden nor Morrigan ever use the orbs. But judging by the strange feeling Alistair had, it was already too late to hope for that. Wynne said that it was the orbs themselves that called to the king, attracting him. Just as they call to the darkspawn.
"What's your status?" the teyrn shouted to one of the knights.
"Three more men lost in the last attack, another five wounded, My Lord." the knight replied.
"Damn." Fergus muttered to himself. Over the past two days the castle had been subject to several darkspawn attacks. They didn't seem to be part of a larger, more coordinated effort, just several groups of the beasts working independently, each being bigger than the last. The most recent attack being the largest wave yet, numbering well over a hundred of the creatures. What the darkspawn were after, Fergus could only guess. Neither his brother, nor his witch could offer a definitive answer for the horde's appearance, except to say that they were both sure it had something to do with those blasted orbs.
It forced the teyrn into a difficult position. The entire time the orbs were at Castle Cousland, the castle and the surrounding area of Highever would be under the constant threat of the darkspawn. On the other hand, however, Fergus couldn't simply cast the orbs out. They would surely be a threat to all of Ferelden. At least in the castle they could be guarded. But for how long, the teyrn didn't know. He was rapidly losing men with each assault. Only forty five men of his entire castle guard remained. Nearly twenty men lay incapacitated in the infirmary, the witch, Morrigan, seeing to their care. She was proving to be a competent healer and nurse, even if her bedside manner was lacking.
There was only one thing Fergus could think to do, ask the king for aid and reinforcements. Without them, he was unsure how long the castle would stand. The few men he had remaining were set about the task of reinforcing the castle defenses. But their supplies would only last so long and they were losing men with each assault. Even on the fastest steed in would take a man almost two days to reach Denerim and at least another two to return with aid. That was if nothing went wrong and there were no delays. That meant they would have to hold the castle by themselves for at least another four days.
Fergus put pen to paper to ask for the king's aid, folded the paper and sealed it with wax, in which the teyrn pressed the Cousland family seal. He delivered the letter to a squire who ran through the corridors of the castle as quickly as his young feet would carry him, rushing through the large main doors and outside to the courtyard where he handed the note to a man on horseback. With a kick of his heels, the man spurred his horse into a rapid gallop as beast and man raced out of the castle gate, through the village of Highever, and down the main road, beginning their long journey to Denerim.
Inside the infirmary, The Warden was looking in on the wounded men, as well as the witch who was caring for them. Many of the soldiers were doing quite well and were in high spirits. Having a beautiful woman to care for them was not hurting matters, one of the men noted, causing the witch to proclaim, "These so-called 'men' are nothing of the sort. They are merely big babies who cry and whine at even the slightest discomfort."
"If I had you to take care of me, I would probably be the same way." The Warden said.
"I have cared for you, and you are." Morrigan said, as she reached up and grabbed The Warden's shirt, pulling it open. "Speaking of which, let's have a look at you." she said as she examined the bandage she had placed over his wound.
"I'll be fine." he replied as he shrugged away from her, "There are men here much worse off than me. They should be tended to first."
There were indeed men in the infirmary who were much worse off than The Warden. Some of whom would not make the night. Captain Reginald being among those men. He and his men were at the brunt of the last attack by the darkspawn and were overrun. They were making repairs to the main gate when a wave of the monsters came from nowhere, some scaling the wall while others attempted to smash the gate with a large log they used as a make-shift battering ram.
Reginald held the stairs by himself long enough to allow his men time to fall back to the courtyard, where the invaders were repelled. But in so doing, he paid a heavy price as more than one darkspawn blade found its mark. The captain was gravely wounded. Even with the witch's care he wouldn't survive much longer. He was one of the few survivors from the night of Howe's attack. The Warden had known the captain since they were both boys. Reginald's death would sting The Warden deeply. "How many more good men have to die because of me?" he asked the witch.
"I fail to see how any of this can be blamed on you." she answered.
"I should have died in Denerim. If I had, so many people would still be alive."
"You speak of your battle with the archdemon. You regret your decision, then?"
"If I had done my duty, none of this would have happened and nobody would be dead."
"Let me remind you that, had it not been for the ritual we performed that night, I would very likely be dead by Flemeth's hand, and you would have no son." Morrigan said, "Was it not you who was instrumental in Ferelden's rebuilding and reestablishing order? How many lives did that save?"
"This isn't something that just balances out. These were good men that died because of what I did." he countered
"Yes, they were. And I, too, regret their deaths. I still feel, however, the right decision was made."
"I wish I was as confident about it as you are."
"'Tis about stopping my mother. She poses a very real threat with or without the orbs. You stand a greater chance than anyone else of succeeding." she said to him as she grabbed his hand and held it, "Twas the right thing to do."
"I hope you're right."
Eleven men covered in shiny silver armor and a man covered in ornate golden armor, came riding through the main gate to Castle Cousland, accompanied by an old mage, a young apprentice, a red headed bard, and the messenger Fergus had only recently sent out. "King Alistair has arrived!" the heralds shouted, catching the attention of both the teyrn and The Warden.
Both men rushed out to the courtyard to greet the king as he and his men rode in. Fergus stood there is almost disbelief at how rapidly the response to his plea had been. It had only been a few hours since he sent out the messenger with the note asking for the king's aid. There was no possible way the rider could have made it to Denerim so fast, never mind there and back again. They did have a mage with them, though, so magic was most likely involved somehow, the teyrn reckoned.
"So, it's been calling to you, too?" The Warden said to Alistair as the king dismounted his steed.
"We were afraid that's what it was." Alistair replied.
"What are you talking about? Leliana, Wynne, what are you two doing here? It's not safe here right now. We've been under attack from darkspawn for the past two days."
"We know, Warden." the old mage said, "That's precisely why we've come. Where is Morrigan? I must speak to both of you at once."
"She in the infirmary, helping with the wounded."
"Morrigan? A nurse? She really has changed." Alistair said, feigning surprise.
As the group entered the castle they walked through the main hall and down the corridor to the makeshift infirmary that had been set up to treat the many wounded. They found the witch at the bedside of one of the more fortunate soldiers, offering to ease the poor man's pain with some hot broth. "Drink or don't. I care not which." Morrigan said forcefully to the laid up man, "However, if I catch you eying me in that fashion again, I shall slit your throat myself."
"I was wrong." Alistair said, "She hasn't changed a bit."
"'Tis good to see you as always, Alistair." the witch said sarcastically upon noticing the king and his entourage. "The orbs have called to you as well, have they?"
"I need to talk to you about that, Morrigan." Wynne said, "To both of you."
"What's going on, Wynne?" The Warden asked.
"I need to talk to you about the orbs." the old mage replied.
Wynne explained to Morrigan and The Warden about the true nature of the orbs. It seems that the old mage had become aware of Zakary's studies. After reprimanding the young apprentice for his foolishness, she looked over his research to see exactly what he had discovered. Upon learning of the orbs from the scrolls that Zakary had, Wynne combed through the tower's arcane vault, where the most rare, powerful, and dangerous texts were kept. After many hours of searching, she at last uncovered a text that covered the orbs in great detail.
The orbs original intent was to literally create a form for the gods. The Imperial Archon, himself, intended to use the orbs to bring the old god, Dumat to The Maker's Golden City and destroy the usurper deity. But The Maker proved too strong for them and Dumat was corrupted and transformed into the first archdemon instead.
Now the orbs bore the same taint as those who created them. Their new purpose being to create an archdemon worthy to lead the darkspawn horde. The smallest orb not only stole the souls of its victims, but acted as a beacon to the tainted once it was activated, alerting all darkspawn to the fact that one of the old gods had been found and a new archdemon would again lead the monstrous horde. The soul it stole would then be used as the power source that gave form to the demon. The second largest orb called out to the old god and drew its essence into the orb, ready to be made whole once more. The largest orb drew power from the soul held in the smallest and combined it with the essence of the god in the second orb, giving life and form to the archdemon. The victim's soul being consumed in the process.
"So how does that help Flemeth? Surely she's not trying to create another archdemon." questioned The Warden.
"I'm not sure how it could benefit Morrigan's mother. But the orbs would certainly give her the tools to draw out the essence of the god trapped in your son. How she would use them after that is a mystery." Wynne answered. "Now, though, I need to see where the orbs are being kept. I believe I have way of blocking, or at least limiting their call to the darkspawn."
"And to us as well, I hope." Alistair said, gesturing to The Warden, "The bloody things are giving me a headache."
From the infirmary, the witch led the group back through the castle and out to the courtyard. Once there she headed for cellar located along the east wall of the main building. Leo barked a happy greeting to Morrigan as she approached; The Warden stopping to give the animal a good pet and scratch. She flung open the doors to the cellar and proceeded down the stairs to her workspace. Once inside, Morrigan guided Wynne to the chest bathed in a blue aura. "I recognize that spell." the old mage said, "It's the same one I taught you. And from the looks of it I would have to say you are an excellent pupil. You've managed to keep the spell compact, yet retain it's original strength. Very good."
"It requires far less energy for me to maintain." the witch explained.
"I bet you would have been quite some apprentice."
"Perhaps. We shall never know." Morrigan replied, doing her best to sound polite.
"I can reinforce your field with one of my own and that should considerably dampen the orbs call to the darkspawn." Wynne reasoned.
Without another word, the old enchanter gathered the magical forces from within and focused them into the aura surrounding the chest, altering it and changing it's color from blue to a light green. "There. That should hold." Wynne said when she was finished, noticing the look of soothing relief the came over both the face of Alistair and The Warden. "It would be best if no further attempts to invoke the orbs were made."
"I will be unable to comply with your request. 'Tis most imperative that I make another attempt as soon as possible." Morrigan said, to the surprise of The Warden.
"You never said anything about trying again." he said.
"I've not had the opportunity to discuss the matter with you." she explained, "When you interrupted me on my first attempt, I was about to make contact with a mage that was trapped in a part of the Fade created and used by the orb. I had paid no mind to the incident until the other night when I heard a voice calling to me. I followed and was led here, to the cellar. Twas the same mage I was trying to contact previously. He had managed to find a way to contact me, but was weak and the connection was lost after a brief time."
"Trusting spirits from the Fade is a dangerous game." Wynne warned, "Rarely does any good come from it."
"I am aware of that. He, however, could prove to be quite helpful in our understanding of the orbs. Now that we are able to block the orbs attraction to the darkspawn, 'Tis worth the risk."
"What do you think, Wynne?" The Warden asked.
"Invoking the orb again will make its call to the darkspawn louder. It would take a quite a bit of effort to contain, but can be done."
"Then it's settled. As soon as we're sure the darkspawn have been taken care of, Morrigan will invoke the orb."
Over a day had passed and there had been no darkspawn attacks. It would seem that Wynne's improvement on Morrigan's magic was working. For the time being at least. No one knew what would happen when the witch invoked the orb's power again. In the meantime, The Warden felt it safe enough to make a quick trip to the build site of the cottage and show his friends he and Morrigan's future home. But when they arrived at the spot, they found the site had been totally demolished.
"It's completely ruined." The Warden said as he walked through the debris.
"Did the darkspawn do this?" Leliana asked.
"No, whatever did this was large. Look at the claw marks in the wood. Almost as if it was..."
"A dragon." Morrigan finished. "Twas no doubt my mother expressing her disapproval."
"She won't stop us. It can be rebuilt."
"To what end? For her to smash to bits yet again? As long as Flemeth lives we shall have no peace."
"What would you have me do, Morrigan?" The Warden asked of his witch.
"'Tis obvious: Flemeth must be dealt with, once and for all." Morrigan answered in a very matter-of-fact tone "I will see her game brought to an end. And when I make contact with the mage Verzanell, he shall give me the means to do exactly that."
"That's if he can even be trusted." The Warden added.
"Fear not, my love. I've a feeling this spirit seeks our aid as much as we seek its."
"What gave you that impression?"
"'Tis impossible to express in terms you could comprehend. Suffice to say that I could feel his soul whilst the orb allowed me to travel the Fade. 'Tis how I initially located him." Morrigan tried to explain.
"And you felt that this Verzanell would help us?"
"Yes."
"You're right. I don't understand."
"Leave all to me." The witch said as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
Once back at the castle, Morrigan and Wynne spent the better part of the day making preparations for another attempt to invoke the orb. Fresh runes and glyphs had to laid with each attempt as the magic they contained faded with time. The proper incense needed to be lit and the entire area had to be cleansed and properly prepared. Even the amount of light in the room was critical. But with the added protection of Wynne's magic, the witch felt confident that she would meet with success.
Both mages, young and old, as well as the apprentice, withdrew themselves into solitude to mentally prepare for the evening's activities. It would require complete and total control from all of them. Even the slightest lapse in focus could prove fatal. And after hours of complete isolation and mediation, the three emerged ready to begin.
Morrigan, Wynne, and Zakary stood alone in the cellar. In the center of the room lie the table with the orb perch atop its pedestal. Morrigan took up her position several feet from the table, while Wynne stood still further back behind the witch. Zakary carefully watched from off to the side. His role was vital and he was unsure if he was up to the task. For while Morrigan invoked the orb, Wynne would contain her within a magical aura to cancel out the orb's call to the darkspawn. It was up to the apprentice to cast a protective layer over the witch to prevent the spirit from being able to posses her as well as inhibiting the orb's ability to devour Morrigan's soul.
It was actually a relatively basic spell of protection used in many rituals. But Zakary had never been forced to use it when the situation had called for perfection or someone could die. Normally he cast the spell only when another apprentice was practicing fire or ice spells or some other kind of harmful magic, and required a buffer. Wynne had assured him he would do just fine. The young apprentice, with a good amount of effort, was finally able to shove the thoughts out of his mind and regain his focus for the task at hand.
With a gesture and a bright flash, Wynne covered the witch and the table in a green aura, while Zakaray muttered the incantation to protect Morrigan from any of the ritual's harmful effects. As before, Morrigan gathered her power, focusing it, reaching out the the orb with it. And once again, the orb began to come alive. The bright red glow filled the room and washed over those within. And as the orb began to rise into the air, the witch started to seek out Verzanell. "Can you hear me? I've returned." she sent out to him.
There was a bright flash and a wave of energy burst forth from the orb, its wind rustling the garments of the mages gathered. A form began to materialize in front of Morrigan, the form of a man. It seemed as though the form was intelligent and was attempting to gain a better foothold on the corporeal realm as it finally came into focus, revealing a young man wearing the robe of a Tevinter Imperium mage. "You finally did it!" the apparition said.
"You are Verzanell, are you not?" the witch asked the spirit.
"I am. And I know what your mother is after."
It would only be reasonable to assume that Verzanell was aware of Flemeth as he had probably "felt" Morrigan just as she had him "And pray, what might that be?" she inquired.
"Your mother seeks to free the soul of the god-child so that he may be made whole on Earth."
"How do you mean?"
"Flemeth intends to undo the curse on the orbs and restore them to their original state. To do that she'll need to use a specific kind of soul. One that is both pure and black."
"Like my son's." the witch noted.
"Perhaps." Verzanell replied. "This will allow her to create a form for the old god to manifest itself into."
"What then? Surely such a creature would pose quite a prize for my mother."
"I know nothing of your mother's intentions afterward."
"And what do you ask in return for this information?" Morrigan asked, knowing there were strings attached.
"You are quite perceptive." the spirit admitted, "All I ask is that you allow the sacrifice to occur, cleansing the orbs. But kill the god before it has a chance to completely take form."
"And what will this accomplish?"
"It will set all those trapped within this orb free. We will be allowed to pass from this world and take our appointed place in the next."
"You are asking me to sacrifice my child. 'Tis a steep request. One I can hardly see myself fulfilling." the witch said, her voice beginning to shake, as if speaking required great effort; the ritual obviously starting to take it's toll on her.
"Make no mistake. You will be forced to choose between what you love and what is right. When that time comes, I can only hope you chose well.." Those being the last words Verzanell spoke, vanishing as Morrigan was completely drained and unable to maintain her connection with the orb.
The effort had sapped her greatly and she was soaked with sweat and weak. The witch was barely able to make it up the short flight of stairs leading out of the cellar under her own power, falling to her knees and vomiting once outside.
The Warden, seeing her, rushed to her side to offer assistance, but was met with an outstretched hand that kept him at bay. He froze in his spot, looking at her and wanting to help. She tried to stand, but was too weak and slumped back to her knees, cursing herself. She finally stretched out her hand to him again, this time palm up, seeking his aid. He took her hand and held her as she stood, pulling her up. Once on her feet, Morrigan lay against The Warden, giving him almost her full weight. "It would seem that you were correct." she said weakly.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, confused by her comment.
"It would seem that even I require assistance on occasion."
"I hate to say I told you so." he said, grinning.
"A fact I am sure you will continually remind me of."
"Shh. Enough talking." he told her as he helped her walk to their chambers, "You need to rest right now." Morrigan didn't argue with him. She was totally exhausted but the effort had not been in vain. Thanks to Verzanell, the pieces were beginning to fall into place. They now knew what Flemeth planned to do with the orbs, and how she was going to do it. The only question that remained was "why?".
Three days had passed since the last darkspawn attack and Morrigan was in the infirmary looking in on the few men that remained. All of the men who were going to die from their wounds had already done so, and those with less serious conditions had been relocated to different quarters, some had even returned to duty. The men who remained were still too weak to be moved or had other more severe, injuries.
One of the men complained of a chill and asked for an extra blanket. Noticing that she was the only one in the infirmary to attend to the man's request, she was forced to fetch the item herself. With a grumble she set off out the door and around the corner to one of the empty rooms that the witch had converted into a supply room for the infirmary. She grabbed the handle on the door, gave a hard yank and it swung wide upon. Morrigan hurriedly walked inside the poorly lit room, seeking to complete the task as expediently as possible, and immediately began to scan the room for blankets. Upon locating one, she reached out, plucked it off the shelf and turned to head out of the room.
"Why the rush, child?" a voice said to her from deep in the blackness of the room, "Surely you can't be in such a hurry as not to have time to talk?"
"I've no time for your games mother." the witch replied, recognizing the voice. "You will state your purpose."
"Fine. Be that way if it pleases you." the old hag returned, imitating scorn.
"We are aware of your intent with the orbs."
"Are you now?" Flemeth, stepping closer to her daughter, "Or perhaps you are a fool and are aware of nothing."
"What do you mean?"
"Come now, my daughter. This childish charade of yours must end. You've had your fun but 'tis time to do what you were always destined for."