Alistair
It's over. Since we defeated the Archdemon, a week has gone by, and I still hardly believe we survived. So many lost their lives along the way and in the final battle, but one death hit me hard enough to take my breath away. I saw Riordan torn apart by the dragon, and my blood ran cold. With all of the swarming darkspawn, it was impossible to make any headway toward the bloody thing, yet Alyssa, determined as ever, charged across the battlefield with her Mabari hound and flaming staff; the very picture of Andraste herself.
And then she fell. A fireball of fangs, claws, and wings plummeted to the ground below with my sister-in-arms astride. We ran toward the crumpled Archdemon to pull her from the wreckage, guided by Ashfur's mournful howl. I'll never forget the look on Zevran's face. He held her close and ran his fingers through her hair, begging her to open her eyes. I didn't dare to hope. Leliana knelt beside her and said a short prayer. She gasped when she touched Alyssa's brow. "She's still breathing! How is she still breathing?"
"Maker's Breath," Wynne said. "Her body is still trying to heal itself."
I asked, "How is that possible? That's not the way Grey Wardens work. She should be dead!"
"I'm not sure." Wynne placed her fingers against the side of Alyssa's neck. "Strange…. It's as if she has two heartbeats."
I felt my insides heave. She killed the Archdemon, there was no doubt there, but she was still alive. I could barely keep my feet. "Wynne," I said, "can you sense if… if there is more than one spirit inside her now?"
Leliana let out a whimper. Wynne cleared her throat and tried to still her shaking hands. She knelt beside Zevran, who was still cradling Alyssa and oblivious to everything else around him. Sten and Oghren had made it to the roof by this time. Additional forces had arrived at the gates to secure the city and rout the remaining darkspawn horde, which had started to scatter at the death of the Archdemon.
A golden glow radiated out from Wynne's hands as she glided them over Alyssa. I had never seen her cry until now in all this time traveling together. Her voice shook, "It's inside with her. They're still fighting in the fade." Wynne hugged herself tightly, "Her magic won't let her go, but it can't heal her either. She's trapped."
I can't remember the next few minutes or how long it was before I heard Sten speak. "We can do nothing standing here," Sten said. "We should get the body to a secured place and cut off its head."
The sing of Zevran's dagger commanded everyone's attention. He stared at Sten with such intensity that the Qunari turned away. I have never seen a Qunari back down from anything, and I doubt I ever will again, but seeing the power in Zevran's eyes, I'm not surprised. "She stays alive," Zevran said softly. "If there is a way to separate them, I will find it."
Wynne and I exchanged glances. "Zevran," she said, "I fear the only way to separate them would be the Rite of Tranquility. Cut off her access to the fade, and then she can pass on, taking the rest of the Archdemon with her. It's the kindest thing to do." Zevran closed his eyes and lowered his dagger. He pulled her closer and kissed Alyssa's brow, murmuring to her.
"Not exactly." All of us jolted. Oghren was leaning on the pommel of his great ax, staring at the ground. With a long sigh, he continued, "There's a set of, I don't know, crystals or tools or some other sodding equipment that can get around, you know, this." He gestured toward Alyssa. "Dwarven made. More science than magic, you could say."
"That seems…fortuitous," Sten grunted.
I had thought so as well. "Why are you mentioning this now?"
"Well, you didn't seem to need it before now, did you?" Oghren said. He shrugged, "When we were at the Shaperate, after the whole Branka thing, I was curious to see if we could have kept the Anvil and maybe later do something to reverse the process." He wouldn't meet our eyes. "I needed to know that there was no way to save her. But…there was." He unscrewed a hip flask from his belt and took a long drink. "I figure if Branka was a lost cause, maybe we can use it now. Thing is, it's not in Orzammar anymore."
"Where is it then?" I asked.
"Tevinter. Branka sold it to a magister to fund her expedition for the Anvil."
Zevran lifted Alyssa into his arms and headed for the doors leading back down to the city. I followed. "Where are you going?"
"To your Arl's estate. After all that she has done for him, I expect him to take great care of our Mage Warden while I'm gone."
I nodded. "I'll make the arrangements. Maybe Wynne can look after her in the meantime." He turned to me. "You don't have to do this alone."
Zevran smiled softly, "Thank you, my friend. I do not have to tell you how terribly close this will bring us to Antiva. Or how often the Crows are enlisted by the Magisterium. It will be dangerous."
That night, Zevran, Leliana, and I were off to Tevinter.
Author's note: Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, and enjoyed this story. I hope to see you all in the next one - which I pray does not take as long to write!
Love you guys - so much 3
