The ground itself seemed to shake under the bellows of the dragon. Perhaps it was just from the sheer number of feet marching across the dirt. Perhaps it was from the walls crumbling into the forest and sea, or perhaps it was just the hammering of her own heart in her skull.
Elissa squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply. She could do this. They could do this. This was what they'd spent the better part of the last year building up to. This was the end. The Blight ended today, either for Ferelden, or for all of Thedas.
The latter would be ideal.
For the tenth time since waking, Elissa checked that her shield was secured on her arm. Her hand shook as she pulled on the leather straps, pulling so tight it hurt through her chainmail. Her eyes caught the old, faded laurel wreath sewn into the linen over the shield, and swallowed past a lump in her throat.
A year ago, this shield sat in the armory of her family's ancestral home. This sword sat in their vault. This armor wasn't even a twinkle in Owen's eye. None of this was real, save her and her brother, and the voice in her head.
Now this was reality. Only a few hundred feet away stood thousands upon thousands of darkspawn, a dragon, and so, so many corpses. Refugees lined the side of the road every time they arrived in Denerim. Caravans of wagons and people, and now they were reduced to piles of flesh and cinder, rotting away.
The smell alone would've been enough to make Elissa hurl had she eaten. Maker be praised she had seen enough bodies to barely pay them any attention these days.
She thought she'd grown desensitized to the smell of death until the darkspawn attacked Redcliffe. Then she thought she'd truly known it and that it couldn't ever be worse, but here they were—surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of dead bodies. Humans and animals alike, and from where she was standing, Elissa could see that the beasts had ripped flesh from bone.
Elissa had spent the last year conveniently ignoring the fact that darkspawn would eat anything so long as it sucked air. This made it nearly impossible to forget.
Anora's voice tore her back to the present, but Elissa was still so very far away. The queen's voice should've been sharp, should've cut through the wind effortlessly, but she, for all her willpower, couldn't hear a damn thing.
It was odd to see Anora here. Nothing about it was surprising; her father was the Hero of River Dane and now a Grey Warden. He had been one of two teyrns in all of Ferelden. It would've been stranger to know she had no martial training whatsoever, to see her stay behind in Redcliffe should the battle go sour, but something about Anora being here still struck Elissa.
Elissa was on the edge of the front line, having marched with Aedan, Loghain, and Anora herself. The woman was only a few feet away, standing atop a wagon with a smashed axle, yelling something at the men and women behind her.
It was so unnervingly quiet, and yet, Elissa heard nothing. She was so focused on the monsters awaiting them outside the walls, so focused on the dragon flying menacingly around Fort Drakon, so focused on her brother's face as he stared at his queen.
Such devotion. She could see it in his eyes. Much of his time in Denerim had been spent with her, likely trying to convince her that their plan had been the best course of action and the one most likely to garner support from the nobility. Much of his time the last few months had been spent knowing that day would be coming, knowing he was only a short while away from meeting that girl he'd always had feelings for.
She wondered if thinking of her was what kept him going in much the same way thinking of Leliana kept her going.
Elissa felt something cold worm its way into her hand—it was Aedan's own gloved fist, and when she turned away from the burning city to him, she could see the fear in his eyes.
Elissa had never seen Aedan look so scared in all their lives. One of them was likely walking to their certain demise, if not both, and both siblings knew it could likely be the last time they saw each other. That little squeeze meant the world to her. He forgave her.
She swallowed and returned her gaze to Denerim. Fires were blazing so high she could see flames over the wall, but she found herself unperturbed. Something about Aedan and that squeeze was all she needed to steel her nerves.
She forgave him too. For the arguments, for allowing Loghain to live, for everything she might've ever blamed him for. He was a good brother and a good man, and Elissa didn't want to die hating him.
"You'll come to the wedding, right?" Aedan asked softly. "And the coronation?"
Elissa blinked away tears as the wind gusted. She didn't understand. Why would he ask such things, knowing they would likely never happen?
"Of course, dear brother."
She could lie for him. He was worth so much more than that, but that was all she could give.
Anora was now leaping down to join them, drawing her sword from the large scabbard slung across her shoulders. Elissa had never thought of the queen as a broad woman, but to weild a weapon of that size...
"For Ferelden! For the Grey Wardens!"
The cry that erupted from the army behind her was deafening. So many voices, so many screams and yells. She was sure her ears would be ringing for days to come.
Elissa didn't recall the charge. One second, she was drawing her sword, and the next, she was halfway down the hill, hot on her brother's heels as he barrelled onward. She didn't remember him putting his helmet on and fully encasing himself from the outside world. She didn't remember Alistair being at her side, but here he was. She didn't remember Anora rejoining them, either, for that matter.
At their cries, the darkspawn outside the gates turned to face them. There weren't many—only a few disorganized packs, maybe a few hundred, but oh Maker, was that enough to give her pause.
Elissa didn't allow herself to stop running, and instead, forced herself to catch up to Aedan. He and Loghain were breaking away from the pack, trying to match the speed of the spearhead, and she didn't want to lose them. Not for Loghain's benefit, but her brother's.
The only reason that man made it this far was for Aedan.
The army's battle cries had been like the sounds of waves crashing on stone, but the eruption of metal striking flesh as the two forces collided was like a hurricane. The collision was as confusing as the currents and water spouts, and Elissa got lost and disoriented within mere seconds. She hadn't even crossed swords with any of the beasts until a full minute after they reached the walls, and at that point, she had lost sight of anyone she recognized.
As she ripped her sword through the chest of a genlock, the familiar sound of wing beats overwhelmed the screams. Elissa could feel it in the very earth, feel it in her chest as the dirt vibrated.
Overhead, the black mass of the Archdemon soared into the battle. It flew past the wall, towards the road, and with a mighty roar, it rained fire upon the men and women still rushing to meet them.
Elissa felt her heart stop. She didn't know where Leliana was in this mess, or where anyone she cared about was. At least Aedan and Alistair were somewhere ahead of her, but where was Leliana?
Move.
She did. The battle snapped back to the forefront of her mind, and Elissa threw herself away from an axe as it split the air where she had just stood. The hurlock on the other end of it screamed in her face as she reeled. It reverted quickly, bringing the hand axe around in a short arc, and Elissa ducked behind her shield. The head bounced off at an odd angle. While it recoiled, she lunged forward and drove her sword into its chest.
Somewhere, somehow, she heard voices.
"Take the gates!"
The phrase spread through them like a disease. Soon enough, Elissa could hear the words being shouted behind her too, and as the hive shifted its focus, the dragon came back. Fire rippled from its jaw in much the same way it could shoot from a mage's hands. Bodies of the living and the dead erupted into flames as people and darkspawn surged into the city, and in the blink of an eye, they had been cut off.
Elissa looked on in horror as the fire spread, overtaking anyone who stood too close. She was several yards away, still battling with the creatures, but Elissa could feel the heat regardless. It made her sweat.
She caught a sword on her shield as she slashed at a shriek. It danced away. Elissa disengaged from the hurlock on her left and pressed the shriek, battering it with her shield before turning and chopping through the hurlock's sword arm.
It was then she realized the world was slowing around her. Voices and cries were distorted, garbled nonsense. The darkspawn clutching at its arm, screaming, was still falling to its knees. The shriek was still recovering. Fire was spreading, edging closer and closer to them, and out of the corner of her eye, Elissa could see several robe-clad figures trying to make their way to the front.
Elissa snapped. She felt that coil in her stomach tighten, and just like that, everything came back into focus. Now, however, that coil shifted to a burn in her muscles, and she sprang into action. Finishing off the hurlock was effortless—her sword cut through its throat like a knife to butter, and the shriek put up even less resistance.
It should be easy. She'd done this before, once, in the Deep Roads. That fire was more linear, but this blazed hotter and was spreading so quickly it threatened to cut them off entirely if someone didn't get it under control.
As Elissa neared the epicenter, she saw the familiar form of a raven plummetting to the ground. At the last possible second, Morrigan erupted from the bird in a puff of feathers. Frost was already dripping from her fingertips, but her spell did little to quell the flames.
She had done this once before. She could do this again.
Elissa slowed as a mage raced past, throwing his staff to the ground. In about two seconds, he'd seemingly pulled the air from the flames before him, and they simply...evaporated.
"Come on!"
Aedan. He was alongside her now, Alistair in tow. And just as quickly as he was there, both were gone, pushing through the small opening the man had just created.
Elissa didn't hesitate to rush after them. She leapt over a small pile of what was little more than burnt flesh, and then turned parallel to the wall, and raced toward the gates. They were open for whatever reason, but as she pulled up behind her fellow Wardens, the trap began to make sense.
At least twenty crossbows and bows were aimed on the trio. Before anyone could move, the projectiles were released, and the responsibility fell on her.
She could feel that stirring inside of her again. Right before she needed to use magic, it would always be there, and it was now. The air rippled at her behest. It snapped and shimmered, and the next thing she and the darkspawn knew, there was a thin, invisible barrier between them and their arrows.
The things clattered uselessly to the cobblestone. It happened so quickly that Aedan and Alistair were still in the process of slowing in shock, but one quick look back to her, and the pair was charging forward again.
Behind them, the forces had managed to defeat the darkspawn outside the walls, and the mages had extinguished the flames. In one, deep, horrifying bellow Elissa was sure she'd never forget, the entirety of the army began yelling.
She found her own voice joining in as they surged through the gates.
"For Ferelden!"
