Salem
"What in hell happened here?" I wondered, examining the area.
I could see the wrecks of the Dalish landships, the pens where the halla had been kept and the irregular tufts of grass where they had grazed. The grass in the clearing was singed, the trunks of the trees blackened, remnants of a fire, though I could not tell at this point if it were natural or magical.
"Mighty suspicious." Oghren muttered, kicking a scrap of torn canvas that lay stuck to the ground. "Looks like an ambush, but no blood, no bodies. Hell, don't look like much were taken in th' way of possessions."
"And yet I've found discarded weapons, not of elven make." Nathaniel tossed me a curved dagger and a bow, both of them stamped with the insignia of the city guard of Amaranthine.
I shook my head, wondering what had transpired. Our attacker could very well have been a Dalish elf, perhaps one of the survivors of the raid. It had been in the Brecilian Forest, the refuge of many Dalish clans, where I had last witnessed the magic of waking trees.
What in hell is happening here? I asked myself again. Alistair passed laws, mandating that the Dalish be left alone. That, unless they were the ones to provoke violence, that they were allowed to travel and camp in peace, as long as the city or people they were near were not infringed upon. Punishment for breaking these laws is swift and stern…and yet…the law has been absent from Amaranthine…and I have been lax in enforcing it. Maker's breath, will my constant shortcomings always be cast into my face and soaked in the blood of innocents?
I glanced at Anders. The mage had been sulky and silent as we walked off of the road and into what had been the Dalish camp. The discoloration on his skin, put there by my fists, had darkened to an angrier shade. He seemed frustrated as he touched one of the blackened tree trunks.
I watched him for a moment, smirking as defeat crossed his features and he made his way over to me. "Commander Cousland," he refused to meet my eyes, "there is something off here. It…it feels like magic, but it isn't. I don't know how to explain but there's…"
"Yep." Oghren nodded. "I'm feelin' it too. All sort of creepish and musty?"
Anders nodded, followed by Nathaniel, and I nearly slapped myself. I walked into the center of the camp, stretching my hands toward the earth, reaching out with my senses. Tainted blood called to tainted blood and I winced as I heard the sounds, the guttural growling of the darkspawn, the screams of the Dalish…How did I not notice, I berated myself, an infant warden could notice…and did! I…I am doing them a disservice. I have slept three hours in the past three days…what good am I if I am unaware of threats such as these!
But why…why were human weapons left here? There would be complaints of altercations between the Dalish and the city guard…Maker's blood-soaked, angered, raving, fucking breath! The darkspawn planted them! But why? Unless it is a distraction for some greater endgame? Somehow, the darkspawn have gained speech…sentience as well? Enough presence of mind to set two enemies against each other and in the offing ignore what they are doing…what are they doing?
"Bitch!" a shriek from a female voice…and not mine. "I warned you once!"
I staggered into reality, falling back as crags of jagged edged rock leapt up where I had stood not moments before. I watched as Oghren readied his axe and Nathaniel his bow; Anders threw up a magical shield…around himself.
My attacker strode forward, twirling a bladed mage's staff with a grace that I envied. Her grey eyes flashed in the blinding sun; her white-blonde hair fell about her face in soft wisps. Her face was crafted of sharp angles, all together pleasing. But the severity of her lips, the harsh set of her jaw, and the flickers in her eyes all screamed of danger and hatred.
"Stand down!" I ordered my fellow wardens, moving around the rocks and drawing my swords.
I had no intention of falling for the darkspawn's charade. I could not…I could scarcely fathom the idea of the mindless, mute creatures whom I had destroyed by the thousands…strategizing as humans would.
"I will not!" the elf-mage cried, thinking my order was for her. "I will not take heed to those who massacred my family! I will destroy you all!"
"Evade, do not attack!" I shouted, running towards the elf as I watched magical power coalesce near the tip of her staff.
I need not have worried for the others. She had singled me out as the leader, and her wrath was focused on me. I staggered back as tiny, hardened pieces of earth ripped themselves from the ground and flung themselves at me with guided fury. Tiny furrows opened on my skin, across my cheeks and ungloved hands, ripping through the cloth and skin that was not protected by armor.
Unwanted warmth coated my skin in the unwelcome form of blood. "Please!" I turned my head and raised my voice over the roar of frenzied magic. "Please, I wish only to speak!"
"Speak then!" the cry came…much closer.
I moved out of the way as the bladed end of the staff crashed down, screeching against my armor instead of through my skull. Her furious gaze met mine, as filled with wrath and death as my own. Her fist crashed against my cheek and my head snapped to the side, vision blurring and the taste of blood in my mouth.
She struck again with her staff and I dropped my offhand blade and grabbed her weapon, ripping it from her hands and throwing it behind me. "I am not your enemy!" I attempted to inform her.
Magic swarmed around her hands and I moved to avoid the spell as thorns jutted from the earth, winding about my legs, crawling up my torso and back, threading about my arms and neck, holding me in place.
"Why did you do it!" her voice spat venom and saliva flecked my cheek. "Why did you bloody shemlen do this?!"
I darted my eyes around, seeing Oghren, the only one who readily came to my aid, in a similar situation as I. Nathaniel watched the elf warily, an arrow nocked, but nothing more. Anders, the only one who had a hope of defeating this mage, was nowhere to be seen.
"We did not do this." I answered, regretting my words as the thorns holding me elongated and pierced my skin.
Pain invaded my body and more rivulets of blood chased across my skin. I gritted my teeth and met the eyes of the elf.
"Do not deny your crimes, or suffer the consequences! Now tell me, shem! Where have you taken her!? Where is my sister!? Where is Seranni!?"
"I do not know." the thorns writhed around my neck, tearing my skin. "I am…" I gasped for air as the vines tightened and the thorns dug deeper still, "Salem Cousland…a Grey Warden."
"A warden." she hissed. "Why did the wardens attack the Dalish! My people helped you during the Blight and this is how you repay us!? Indiscriminate slaughter!? Kidnapping!?"
"No." I wheezed as my eyes rolled back in my head. "Swear…"
The vines mercifully eased, though the thorns remained embedded in my skin. "Then tell me why I was forced to bury my kin!?" her words landed like sparks against my skin. "Tell me why my sister is missing!? Tell me why I should not kill you where you stand!?"
"I'll help you." I spoke the only words that might break through her hatred. "Find your sister. I will help you."
She backhanded me across the face. "I do not want your help!" she seethed. "You bloody human scum have caused us nothing but despair! You'd like as not run a blade through my gut the moment I break this spell!"
"No." I shook my head, regretting it as the thorns dug deeper still. "Darkspawn did this."
"Why?"
"I do not know…but I wish to find out. Let me help you. Please." I nearly begged, needing answers, needing to understand…needing to be free of the thorns that inched deeper into my skin with every breath.
"Swear it on my gods and your blood warden, for the latter is what is at stake." she eyed me warily, as though I were an unknown species of serpent.
"I swear it," I moistened my lips, tasted blood, "on the Creators…and my own blood. I will not harm you, and I will help you find your sister."
She snapped the spell and it took all of my strength to remain standing as the thorns were pulled from my body with an ungentle touch. Every puncture radiated pain and I clenched my jaw as the mage and I stood eye to eye with each other, each waiting for the other to strike.
The elf took a step back and surveyed my condition. "Drop your sword."
I let the blade fall to the ground, my eyes not leaving hers. "I mean you no harm. And my people have done nothing to you…at least…not here. Please, hear me out."
"Speak, shem." she allowed. "And after that, we shall see if you are worth hearing my tale."
"May I have your name, at least?" I asked.
The elf drew herself up, though she still stood a head shorter than I. "Velanna."
