North! Go north and burn! Burn Ferelden and the dirt people inside of it!

The darkspawn at the front of the raiding party, a hurlock alpha, raises his axe and shrieks to his followers. All of them are covered in red and black blood alike. Blood from their fallen siblings, blood from the nasty Wardens they slaughtered in the middle of the night. The screams and smell of burning flesh only drove the beasts on, fighting for their lives, but the darkspawn had the numbers to overwhelm them.

Pathetic Wardens.

Redcliffe first, a deep voice orders. Strike them at the heart of their survival. Make them regret slaying Urthemiel. Kill the ones responsible. Images of four Grey Wardens flash through the alpha's mind. A blond woman with blue eyes, a man with brown hair and blue eyes, a man with blond hair and brown eyes, and a black-haired man with blue eyes. But bring the woman to me.

The darkspawn screech before turning north, away from the Korcari Wilds, to the village they were ordered to burn.

"It's good to see you again," Eamon says.

I just nod, poking at my food. I'm not very hungry. I haven't been since we found the Wardens the other day. "We won't be staying long, I'm afraid."

Isolde looks offended. Maker, I hate that woman. "And why's that? You've only just gotten here; the villagers would love if the Hero of Ferelden stayed!"

I have to resist the urge to punch her. My muscles strain to, but I bite my tongue hard enough to keep from doing so. After what she did to Alistair, and her involvement with Redcliffe's attacks during the Blight, and the fact that she's an Orlesian, my patience with her is very thin. I've never liked Isolde. She was never nice to Aedan or me because we were the youngest, and she didn't care much for Fergus. Coming to Redcliffe always sucked for us.

"Isolde, there's a roving pack of darkspawn somewhere in the Hinterlands. They slaughtered all of the Wardens I had stationed here," I say. "I plan on going after them before they can do further harm. Now whether that's here or Rainsfere or somewhere else, I don't much care. The darkspawn are a nuance, so I go. I only came to Redcliffe to warn you, Eamon."

He frowns. "Warn me?"

"Yes." I look up from pushing my food around with a fork. "Earlier this month, I was invited to court in Denerim by Anora. Before I attended, however, Alistair and I were requested to escort Empress Celene and her entourage. As far as I know, Anora intended to declare Ferelden independence and make the Couslands her successors. I assume you know this, yes?" When the two of them nod (not really looking for Isolde's agreement) I continue. "Alistair and I got sidetracked and ended up leaving on Warden business. Anora came to Vigil's Keep to drag me back into going, and a few days after she left, I took Alistair, Aedan, and Leliana-"

Isolde's face scrunches up at the mention of my Orlesian companion. "It's not appropriate to take outsiders to court unless they are invited."

I've had enough of her!

Slamming my hand onto the table, I stand so quickly that my chair falls over. "Don't start going on about Leliana's being Orlesian. You're an Orlesian married to an Arl. She's married to my brother. She's a Cousland and that's the end of it. She has more right to walk into Denerim and claim being a Fereldan than you do. She fought with us during the Blight, nearly died on multiple occasions, and was there when I killed the Archdemon! If anybody doesn't have the right to watch Fereldan politics, it's you, Isolde. Leliana shed her own blood for Ferelden when Ferelden needed it. What did you do? Hire a blood mage to teach your son how to hide his magic? Kill off hundreds of innocent villagers? Redcliffe's problems were your fault!"

I start for the door, intending to grab the others before heading out, but catch myself. I might not care for Eamon, but he did what he could for me for years, and I owe it to him and Redcliffe to warn them.

"Denerim is gone. I ordered the burning of it when Orlesian Chevaliers captured it."

"We're...at war with Orlais?"

I nod, back to them. "We are."

And then I leave.

I yank up my hood as I make my way to the open portcullis. The guards stand at attention as I pass, but I keep my eyes forward as I march across the bridge. I remember the green fog that came pouring out of the castle...the screams and groans of the undead. Alistair falling off the cliff by the windmill. Hope completely losing it.

I don't even realize I'm standing in the same place until I force myself to stop thinking about it. I stare up at the windmill, frowning, before turning and making my way down the hill. I cross another, smaller bridge to the tavern. I shoulder my way through the door, glad to find the main room virtually empty, and sit with my companions. Aedan and Talith aren't here; they're off buying supplies in town. Morrigan and Theorn must've retired for the night. That leaves me with Alistair and Leliana.

"How'd it go?" Alistair asks.

I start to reply, but Leliana holds up a hand. "Wait, let me see if I had this right." Alistair groans, but after looking between the two of them, I make a motion for her to continue. "You walked up there, and at first, it was fine. Isolde didn't really talk to you, but Eamon did as best as he could, and as time wore on, your temper got shorter and shorter. One of them said something, to which you got upset, and you stormed out of there, ready to punch them." She raises an eyebrow. "I get that right?"

I blink stupidly. "I'll never understand how you do that."

She grins triumphantly. "Body language." She looks over to Alistair, saying, "See? I told you what would happen. Nothing to be worried about."

"So who said what?" Alistair asks, changing the subject.

"Isolde," I say. "She made a comment about allowing foreigners into court when I started to tell then about the Orlesians. She snapped about Leliana being Orlesian and I shot back with a detailed explanation of why Leliana has more right to act Fereldan than she does. Then I left."

Leliana snorts. "I am a Fereldan."

"Exactly," I say. "There's a reason I don't like her." I shake my head in annoyance. "You know, nobody would object to you walking up there and saying something. It's not like Ferelden looks at us like Wardens. As far as the country is concerned, you're a Cousland. You're married to the son of a Teyrn, and she's an Arlessa. Higher rank than that twit."

"It's tempting, but I think I'll just stay here," Leliana says.

"Isolde is never nice, is she?" Alistair asks.

"I hope that was a rhetorical question," I say. Leliana giggles with me, and Alistair scowls.

"Yes, please, continue laughing at my expense."

"Really?" Leliana's face gets so blank and straight in a matter of seconds that I only laugh harder. "Are you sure, Alistair?"

"Maker, no!"

I almost take a shot at Leliana on Alistair's behalf, but the pressure on my spine, the one meaning darkspawn, worsens. I freeze with my mouth open, eyes wide.

"You've got to be joking," Alistair says.

"Always darkspawn, right?"

I get to my feet and sprint for the stairs. Behind me, I hear the other two follow suit. In the hallway, I start slamming my fist on doors to wake Theorn and Morrigan. Alistair and Leliana run past to get their weapons. Inside, I hear Morrigan shuffling around, snapping at me to go away and do something productive.

"Get your ass out here already!" I retort. The door swings open, revealing the witch. She's armed and ready to go, so I point downstairs. "Meet us down there. Darkspawn." She gives an annoyed huff, but does as told. I go to Theorn's door next as Alistair emerges from our room. He tosses me my quiver and bow. I pull the former over my shoulder. "Theorn! Theorn, open up! There are darkspawn approaching Redcliffe!"

"I'll be downstairs in a minute. Go warn the guards."

Alistair and I exchange looks before doing as he says. Leliana is right behind us as we join Morrigan. She's standing by the door with her staff, the customary glare fixed in place at the sight of the redhead following Alistair and I.

"So we are defending the fools yet again?"

I don't respond to her. I motion for them to stay put while I go up to Bella, the woman Aedan gave the tavern to after Lloyd died. She's noticed our rushing about and her brows are furrowed at me. "What is it, Warden?"

"Darkspawn," I say flatly. "Lock up the tavern after my friend joins us outside. Don't open the door for anybody, understand?" When she nods, I turn and push through my companions to get outside. They follow wordlessly. "All right, you-" I point at Morrigan. "-watch for the things. Leliana, go down to the Chantry and warn the sisters there. Alistair, start getting the townsfolk into their homes or the Chantry. I'll go back up to the castle and alert the knights and the guards. Understand?" At their agreement, we break.

The hurlock alpha is the first through the trees and onto the road leading into the human village. He can sense the Wardens, but there are only a few. Not enough to defeat the raiding party. As his vassals emerge from the trees, he starts down the hill. They expect resistance, preparation for their arrival, but nothing happens. The town is quiet, almost as if it was abandoned. All the darkspawn see are houses and a lone raven circling overhead.

The Wardens are still nearby. The alpha can sense them. They are so close he can almost taste the fear they radiate.

"Into the village," he growls.

The pack of darkspawn runs downhill at a sprint, intending to begin the burning of the town. The Wardens are here somewhere, and if they have to set everything aflame to get to them, then so be it. What's one, tiny town going to do to them? They have a new master, and soon, a new god to follow on a far more organized level. They couldn't care less about the wrath they might invoke by doing this. After all, when have they ever?

As the first into the village, that leaves the alpha the first target, but the arrows don't come until his followers have joined him. Several spells are whipped towards them in rapid succession. The beasts he leads scatter in small groups, shrieking in confusion. He tries to hold them together, but the insignificant fools run about, confused, making easy targets for the now obvious archers hiding behind crates. Only two, but both wear the blues and silvers he has come to expect of Wardens. The arrows seem to purposely miss him, and when the one on the left has emptied her quiver, she hops over her cover. Around him, more Wardens appear, leaping at the packs of genlocks and hurlocks. They cut them down easily, but he doesn't care. Now that he has had the chance to see her face, he recognizes the Warden stalking towards him.

"Let's dance."

He draws his axe, snarling at the human before him, and prepares to strike her down right then and there. Then he remembers his orders to leave this one alive.

"The Master demands your life," he says, voice gravelly and low.

"Oh, you talk too? Even better!"

He roars at the puny Warden, furious, and charges her, bringing his axe around in an arc. Defenseless as she is, he expects her to dodge the attack, or at least attempt to. He doesn't expect the bronze sword that appears between them, or the counterattack the Warden flies into. Within seconds, she has him disarmed and on his back, sword at his throat.

"Who leads you?" He says nothing. "Who told you to come here? Was it Corypheus?"

A name he recognizes. The Master.

When he just grins up at the Warden, her expression darkens. The last thing he sees is a spurt of his own blood.

After my unsuccessful attempt to get more out of the alpha, I run to Alistair's side. He glances at me briefly before returning to the fight, blocking swings from coherent darkspawn, and killing those too stunned to do more than shriek in confusion. It's a short fight due to their sudden lack of leadership, but there are still so many that run off into the Hinterlands to return to their leader.

"This one still breathes," Leliana says from behind, nudging the alpha with her boot. I throw back my hood as Alistair and I join her. "You're going to let it live, aren't you?"

I snort as I crouch beside it. I grab its axe and hand it back to Alistair. "No. But I'm going to heal it. If it can talk, it can betray 'the Master'. I'll consider letting it live after it wears out its usefulness. Maybe it'll lead us back to his lair."

The others join us after chasing the remaining darkspawn out of the town. Aedan has a small wound on his forehead, but nothing to fuss over. Not even Leliana pays it any attention. Aedan gets so many head wounds I'm starting to doubt if he has a brain anymore. He frowns at the sight in front of him. Me, healing a wound in a hurlock's chest. "What are you doing?"

"It's intelligent," I say shortly. "When was the last time we saw intelligent darkspawn? With the Architect. If he could make them think, why can't Corypheus? An army of intelligent darkspawn to attack the surface during the Blight would be far more useful than the idiots we just slaughtered."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of 'intelligent darkspawn'," Talith says. He's frowning at the hurlock, brows drawn together. He doesn't normally show any emotions, so that testifies to the confusion he's probably feeling right now. Aedan and I did our best to smother any rumors of 'talking darkspawn' before they could start. "What does that even mean?"

"They can talk for one," I say. "This one said something about 'the Master' demanding my life."

"So you want to keep a hurlock alive to interrogate it."

"Yeah. Problem?"

"Not a one, Elissa," he says. "It's a good plan, actually."

I nod absentmindedly, sitting back when I'm satisfied. It breathes easier, but it's still unconscious. "Anybody got any rope?"

"Uh...no, but there's rope on that clothesline," Alistair says, gesturing to it with his sword. "Let me go get it." While he walks off to do that, I motion for Aedan to help me drag the darkspawn over to the flagpole by the hill. The others follow, unsure of what else they could do.

"One of you go tell the villagers it's safe now," I say. "Leliana?" She nods and runs off to start with Bella's tavern. I look up at Theorn while Aedan situates the beast against the wood. "You want to run up to the castle and let Eamon know?"

"I'll be back shortly, Warden." He follows the redhead up the hill, but vanishes on the bridge a moment later whereas Leliana reappears and heads for the Chantry. Alistair rejoins us with a small amount of rope coiled up in his hand.

"Is this good? Or should I go hack down someone else's clothes?"

I shake my head, saying, "No, that's fine. Thanks." He nods, passing it off to me, and starts dragging the bodies of the darkspawn to the center of town. Talith and Morrigan go off to help him, but Morrigan requires some urging on Talith's part. "So what do you think, brother?"

"About what?" Aedan asks.

"This. The Archdemon Corypheus found and all. Flemeth being an elven goddess. What do you make of it?"

He snorts while I wind the coarse rope up around the pole and the hurlock's wrists. "I think it's a load of bullshit to be perfectly honest. The Maker just keeps throwing us more problems to deal with at a ridiculous rate, don't you think? He's not the nicest...person, but even I doubt He'd send another Blight this soon. I think we just heard Corypheus' dragon, and that they're close to another Archdemon. I don't think they've actually found it yet, let alone woken it."

"I hope so," I admit, stepping back.

"And as for Flemeth?" He laughs once, unamused. "She knows an awful lot, doesn't she? When I was talking to her before she returned the treaties to us, she told Jory he was 'sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things' and looked at you with...some sort of glare. I think she knew about the Agents of the Maker and what we would be ordered to do."

I frown. "But then why would she have saved us only a day later?"

He shrugs. "Maybe because she believed the Blight would overwhelm Thedas if you weren't alive to kill the Archdemon? What fun would there be for a goddess with no people to terrorize? It would make sense anyway. She can transform into a high dragon, you know. Even Morrigan doesn't know how Flemeth pulls that off. And Hawke told us about how Flemeth saved her and Carver as they were fleeing Lothering. She had been a dragon when they'd first met. Maybe gods can do that? I don't know, sis. This is all a little too confusing for me to follow."

"Flemeth can transform into a dragon. Trust me, I know that," I say, remembering the four months I'd been without everything except my sword and Hope. I was hunting Flemeth even then, but I didn't know as much about her then as I do now. "And yes, I understand this being confusing. I just want to figure out how Corypheus and Flemeth fit together, and what they're doing that offends the Maker so much."

"Corypheus is understandable, though," Aedan says. "Trying to destroy Thedas? Yeah, understandable that the Maker wants him dead. But the elven gods? I don't get it."

"He wants us to unite everyone under the Chantry after reforming it. He wants everyone to be equals. Humans, elves, mages. He wants us to be the same. Maybe the elven gods prevent it so long as the Dalish believe in them?"

Aedan shakes his head. "No idea, sis. All I know is our lives are about to get a whole lot more complicated."

Complicated doesn't begin to cover it, and that's what I'm afraid of. In just a few years, Thedas will face one of the biggest threats it ever will if we don't find Theorn's friend and kill the creature holding him. And even if we do manage to kill Corypheus, then we're still left with raising an army and waging a war with the Chantry. The Chantry is what holds Thedas together. Without it, Ferelden would have little to do with Nevarra, or Antiva, or Rivain, or even the Free Marches.

What will happen when we destroy the one binding cause Thedas has?