Forgotten by My Past

by Lady Artimes Blaine

To find yourself in a place you don't know was scary enough, but to learn that you have been zapped into your favorite game series was absolutely terrifying. She's alone, an elf, a mage, everyone knew her, she's superglued herself to the Dread Wolf and all she wanted was to go home or at least stop crying like a baby!

1. Chapter 1: Triple Trouble

Chapter One: Triple Trouble

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When the Fifth Blight blazed across the whole of Ferelden, Duncan went to many places across the country and sought out recruits to join the Order of the Grey that were congregating at the ruins of Ostagar at the edge of the Korcari Wilds. The places he visited were Orzammar, Redcliffe, Highever, the Circle of Magi, Denerim and the Brecilian Forest.

Of these locations, he was only able to recruit two individuals; a hunter from the Sabrae Clan of Dalish elves.

The other recruit came from the very same clan, but the elf in question was the clan's former Second and recently exiled due to her choice in vallaslin. She had designed her own blood markings. They depicted the tree branches of Mythal, the All-Mother and Goddess of Justice, but it was not in the traditional shape. The vibrant blue ink depicted the branches in the shape of a wolf like mask. The god of her people that she chose to honor was that of the Trickster God, Fen'harel also known as the Dread Wolf. She bore his markings with pride, declaring him not the God of Betrayal but the God of Rebellion.

Now the leader of the Ferelden Grey Wardens had deemed the hunter as an acceptable candidate, he would be an excellent soldier and he followed instructions and orders to the letter. He was a firm believer of discipline and the chain of command. His skill with a bow and bladed weapons was remarkable. His tracking ability outclassed that of the elite Ash Warriors and his survival skills were honed to perfection. His fatal flaw was his extreme loyalty to his kin. Had he not come into contact with a tainted Eluvian and been infected by the Blight, Duncan highly doubted that the Keeper would have parted with the lad.

Then there was the Dalish mage that bowed to no one and only heeded the orders he gave her when they did not conflict with her personal beliefs. She was also very strange in her usage of magic. She did not carry a staff and when he insisted that she needed one, she pointed to the metallic bands on her wrists. They were made from meteoric ore and held a blue jewel in the center. Upon further questioning, she revealed the jewel to be an extremely rare type of crystal known as lacrima and it could only be found within the remnants of meteors that fell from the sky.

She had imbued these bands with hundreds of interlocking runic formulas to act both as a channeler and a focus. They also created a parallel pocket dimension that she called a requip space that allowed her to store everything except living beings within it. She had decided to grace him with a showcase of this particular drawback on a nug.

The poor creature was temporarily stored within the requip space, but did not remain there as it should. When it rematerialized, the nug was inside out before it promptly exploded. This did not occur on animals that were already dead due to one of the runic arrays preserving all organic material. She had said that it was a work in progress. She even showed him the interface that she used to interact with the requip space. It was quite the marvel of magical engineering.

The Dalish hunter had been extremely harsh with the Warden Commander when he had praised her ingenuity. According to the rogue, she consorted with the demons in the Fade and that she had made deals with them in order for them to teach her forbidden magic. The mage simply rolled her eyes and said that the Dalish believed that all spirits were evil and that the Fade was full of deception and sin.

She did not adhere to this particular societal belief, having befriended many spirits as she traversed the Fade. She was a somniari, a Dreamer of extraordinary talent. If one understood the true nature of spirits and possessed a strong will, one need not fear the Fade. It was this belief that prevented Keeper Marethari from making her the First of the clan, giving the position to Merrill.

The Keeper was not a fool. She knew that it would be ill advised to completely ostracize their most powerful mage. For many years, her clan tolerated her existence and her quite radical beliefs, even putting off marking her with vallaslin so that she could not leave the clan as a proper adult. When they could no longer delay the rite of blood writing, she was finally permitted to receive her vallaslin, only to swear her loyalty to the Dread Wolf in the ultimate act of rebellion.

This was the final straw for the majority of the clan. They could not deny her choice since they had deliberately put it off for so long and was within her rights to the form in which the blood writing would take, but she was considered an omen of eventual doom for the Sabrae clan had she been permitted to remain within their ranks. Keeper Marethari was reluctant in her decision to exile the woman and ultimately delayed it until the opportunity presented itself for her granddaughter to have a possible life away from the clan.

Duncan had never seen someone so happy to leave the people that she had known for her entire life and although her face was marked with the blood writing that she had explicitly told him were slave markings in ancient times, she was a free spirit and could now make her own choices in life. She had no qualms in becoming a Grey Warden and stated that had he not shown up when he did that the moment she was exiled, she was going to seek out the Grey Wardens to join them.

When asked why she was so adamant in joining their ranks, she revealed that the surge of darkspawn was not some random coincidence, but was, in fact, a true Blight. The spirits within the Fade had told her about what appeared to be a darkspawn magister, calling itself The Architect, and that it had infected one of the old gods, Urthemiel, with the taint. Once blighted, it became the newest archdemon and was currently residing deep within the Deep Roads, gathering its forces into a mighty horde.

The Dalish rogue had once again scoffed at this revelation, saying that nothing learned within the Fade could be considered as actual truth. During the moments when the rogue was off hunting for their meals, Duncan confided in the exiled mage that what the spirits in the Fade had told her was indeed the truth, but with no physical evidence to support these claims, they would not be able to convince the King of Ferelden of the true severity and precariousness of their situation.

Out of the two recruits he had gotten from the Dalish in the Brecilian Forest, he fervently wished for the mage to survive the Joining. He would be pleased if both survived of course, but especially her. She possessed a certain something that most Grey Wardens lacked. It could not be properly defined with words, and was completely intangible, but it was a quality that could be sensed by everyone.

The mage formerly known as Salise Talas, after receiving her vallaslin, chose the name Artz Lanaria. He had asked her if there were special meanings for her names. Talas was her family name but Salise loosely translated into the common tongue meant Soul of Fire. As for her chosen name of Artz Lanaria, Artz meant doctor or healer and Lanaria loosely translated was moon or child of the moon. The overall translation was Doctor Moon or reflection of the Doctor. It obviously held great significance for her though he sensed that there was some kind of inside joke that he was unable to grasp.

Upon reaching Ostagar, he tasked the rogue to seek out the other two recruits, Ser Jory and Ser Daveth. While he was doing that, he gave the task of locating the most junior member of their order that would be joining them in their excursion into the Korcari Wilds to the elven mage. He was not at all surprised when she called the Warden by name, Alistair Theirin. She had warned him that the spirits could and would be quite chatty since most people either feared them or were not aware of them.

She promised not to mention anything that was deemed as confidential. She had simply wanted him to know that she knew. Before she left, however, she requested that he give something to Alistair as a momento in case the coming battle claimed his life, which was a distinct possibility. He wrote a letter with instructions to the secret room in a warehouse in Denerim. Within the Grey Warden cache there was his shield.

He decided to give the letter to her should she survive the Joining. If not, he would give it to Alistair directly. That was not the only letter he wrote. He wrote a second in regards to a secret that had been kept between three individuals; himself, King Maric, and the former Grey Warden, Fiona. Within it was the true circumstances of Alistair's birth. He wasn't entirely certain why he had decided to do this, given that he had promised the boy's parents to never reveal it, but that rebellious mage caused him to rethink a great many things.

As it turned out, Artz and Alistair snapped together seamlessly with her satire and his witty one liners. The moment he had seen them together, he had smiled a secret smile. He could see it as well as sense it, those two were destined for one another. It was not entirely unheard of for Grey Wardens to have romantic and marital relationships, just not usually with each other, but it was still permitted nonetheless, especially during a Blight. It gave them a reason to fight, to survive, to triumph.

He had been pleased when Artz assisted several people around the camp, including an imprisoned deserter and the kennel master with a sick mabari. She even spoke to Senior Enchanter Wynne, Cailan's Honor Guard, and coerced Teryn Mac Tir's guard into granting her a brief audience with the King's father-in-law. Admittedly he was a bit exasperated that she took everything that wasn't nailed down, searching every sack, chest, crate, and storage container in the entire camp.

He noticed the rather forlorn expression in her eyes. It was a look that never quite left her and seemed to intensify when gazing at him, King Cailan and his Honor Guard, Ser Jory and Ser Daveth. He could not rid himself of the haunted look that had been present when they had crossed the bridge. She had been looking down at the front lines where the vanguard were gathering for the evening's battle.

Then there was the way she had looked at the Tower of Ishal when it first came into view. She had openly glared at it for almost a minute and it was as if she was trying to make it combust with her eyes or perhaps disappear entirely. She knew more than what she was saying. She hadn't even bat an eyelash when he mentioned the side trip to get the Grey Warden treaties or the vials of darkspawn blood required for the Joining.

Then came the Joining itself and she looked on sadly as he handed Ser Daveth the Joining chalice. There was no shock, horror or surprise on her face when the man died instantly from the taint. He was stunned when she got in front of him after Ser Jory drew his blade. She requipped a great sword into her right hand and deflected the knight's initial swing before running him through with a whispered apology.

She requipped the blade back into her inventory and stepped forward to accept the chalice. She drank from it and collapsed. Sorrow filled his heart when she stopped breathing and he handed the chalice to the Dalish hunter. He too drank from the chalice and began to choke before ultimately being claimed by death's chilled embrace.

He set the chalice down, his head bowed down in deep sadness. He had wanted so badly for her to survive. She was the perfect choice for a Grey Warden and he had already decided to pass the mantle of Warden Commander of Fereldan to her had she survived. He was already experiencing the beginning of the Calling. He had a year, maybe two before his final journey into the Deep Roads. Why could she not survive, why did so many good people have to die so young before they had ever truly lived?

Alistair knelt next to the mage with snow white hair, a frown on his face. He placed his hand on her neck and his eyes widened. The junior Warden called out to him and as he looked up, the snowy elf gasped for breath, her vibrant blue eyes flying open as she sat up quickly. Unfortunately, the quick action was too fast for Alistair to move in time and they ended up smacking their foreheads together. Duncan let out a startled laugh of relief and joy.

The rebellious mage gave him a cheeky grin that warmed his heart to see. He offered her his hand so that she could rise to her feet. She was unsteady at first, but soon gained her balance. Things moved quickly after that. He dismissed Alistair and spoke briefly to her, giving her the letters to give to the blonde haired man after the battle.

He also informed her that should he fall in battle that he wanted her to take command. He would inform the others after the meeting with the King. He wasn't quite sure why the King of Ferelden seemed so fixated on their newest Warden. He was enthralled by the legends of the Grey Wardens already, but his interest in her specifically gave him pause and a bad feeling in his gut. Cailan had charmed many a woman into his bed due to Queen Anora's supposed inadequacy in intimate matters and he did not want the royal to get in between her and his half brother, Alistair.

He was grateful when the meeting ended and they were able to reunite with the younger Theirin. He secretly enjoyed watching the two banter back and forth about their assignment to light the beacon at the top of the Tower. The fact that she said that she would pay to see Alistair in a dress and the dancing the Remigold was absolutely hilarious, but he had to remain in control of his emotions and be their Commander. Didn't stop him from sending a brief prayer to the Maker that the elven mage would care and look after Alistair when he was gone.

They parted ways and Duncan headed for the front lines to speak with his fellow Wardens in the vanguard, informing them of their newest addition and his standing order that she would be the new Commander of the Grey in Ferelden upon his death. It was not entirely unusual for newly joined Wardens to rise to a higher rank almost immediately. It was, however, highly unprecedented for a recruit to be elevated to Warden Commander which spoke volumes about their character when such things did happen.

As night fell fully, the clouds finally decided to let loose the rain that had been forming for the last two days. They could see the flames of the torches being carried by the darkspawn, indicating a massive force unlike anything they had seen thus far and Duncan knew without a doubt that he would not survive this battle. Worse still, he was completely certain that this battlefield would also bring about the King's death as well.

He remembered how she looked at the war veteran, Loghain Mac Tir. Somehow that man was going to survive the battle of Ostagar and become an opposing force to the future Warden Commander. He learned so much from the things she didn't say. Her expressions and actions painted a very grim picture. He and the king would fall, most likely the entirety of the Grey Wardens as well.

Her behavior towards Loghain made him believe that the man would quit the field and leave them to die, but it was her smile towards Alistair that gave him hope. She and the younger Theirin would be in the Tower of Ishal and not the main battle. They would survive because of that fact. They would live and unite Ferelden against the Blight. They had the treaties and most importantly, they had her, Artz Lanaria, the woman boasted that she could do the impossible and he truly did believe that.

He made peace within himself, knowing that those two would be alright. No matter the outcome of this battle, the future was in capable hands. Maker, watch over them and guide them to victory.

---

The Grey Warden known as Alistair Theirin and future king of Ferelden had irrevocably and undoubtedly fallen in love with the most unconventional Dalish elf in existence. She had made it so easy that he didn't even realize that he had fallen for her in less than a month. She didn't care that he was the bastard son of King Maric and when she told him that she had retained all the memories of her previous life in a parallel world where Thedas was a work of fiction, he actually believed her.

He would admit that it was creepy when she quoted other people's words before they had even met them, but he could not deny the validity of her claim because in less than eight months, she had successfully ended the werewolf curse and recruited the Dalish elves, went to Orzammar and broke the deadlock which crowned Bhelen as King, stormed the tower and saved the Circle of Magi, defended Redcliffe from the undead and depossessed a child without using blood magic, and found a mythical relic called the Urn of Sacred Ashes to cure Arl Eamon.

Along the way, they made several side trips which resulted in a plethora of companions from all walks of life. The first to join them was the swamp witch, Morrigan. The second was a mabari war hound that Artz had helped the kennel master save before the battle at Ostagar, she named him Solas which was the elven word for Pride. In Lothering, they recruited a former Orlesian bard named Leliana and a Qunari known as Sten of the Beresaad. They picked up the spirit healer known as Wynne from the Circle after clearing it of abominations, blood mages and demons.

They swung by Honnleath and rescued the family of one of the tortured templars, Cullen Stanton Rutherford. While there, they killed a desire demon and got the correct password to awaken the golem called Shale that loved squishing all manner of birds. After that came the sleazy and self assured Antivan assassin named Zevran Arainai. The last to round out their little ragtag group was the constantly drunk dwarf named Oghren.

Countless skirmishes and battles, quests and side quests, an energetic dwarf named Dagna that wanted to study magic, dragon worshipping cults, killing the legendary Flemeth while in the shape of a high dragon and that was after defeating an actual high dragon at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. They paid a visit to Soldier's Peak and reclaimed the old Warden base.

They also returned to Ostagar and built a funeral pyre for their fallen king. He still wasn't used to walking around in Cailan's golden armor, but Artz had said that no other was worthy of it and that it should stay with the Theirin family. He couldn't really argue with that logic and thus it became a family heirloom. Then they traipsed all throughout Denerim without the traitorous bastard, Loghain, even knowing they were there in the first place.

He was glad that he learned about his true birth mother, because having met the woman he had believed to be his half sister, he had never felt so alone in his life. Artz smacked him in the face with a hard truth though it obviously pained her to do so and then she went and made him fall for her all over again when she took him to a warehouse where there was a secret Grey Warden cache. Within that cache was Duncan's shield which the man had decided to leave to him, giving her the location and means to access the cache.

He loved her. By the Maker, he loved this impossible woman, so when Eamon proposed for him to become King of Ferelden, he blatantly refused because becoming king meant that he would never be able to marry the woman he loved with every fiber of his being. Only for her to smirk and declare proudly to the room that she would make him king and make herself his official mistress. Pretty much telling both the Landsmeet and Anora to go fuck themselves with the sticks in their asses.

Did he mention that he truly, deeply loved this absolutely crazy woman? Before the landsmeet, they had to rescue Anora and Artz lied to her, saying that she would support a political marriage between them, so long as she became his official mistress. The queen agreed to the terms and then Artz asked him for a big favor. They had saved Riordan, a fellow Grey Warden and he knew how to make what they needed for the Joining ritual.

When he asked her why, she said it was to make Loghain into a Grey Warden. He initially refused but she silenced him with a kiss, tears in her eyes. He immediately calmed down, knowing that when she cried like this, it meant that it was either super important, pertained to a future event or both. She said that in ten years time, a choice about who was to die for the sake of someone very important was to be made. That choice would be between a good person that had lost his entire family and a Grey Warden. Who that Grey Warden could be was between him, a man named Stroud, and Loghain should he survive the Blight.

She would normally allow him to kill Loghain and take the throne because there was no way to save Loghain and for the Warden Commander to stay on good terms with him in the story, but this was real life and the woman he loved was begging him to stay his hand for the sake of the future. He had been silent for several minutes, wrangling with his emotions.

The longer he stayed quiet, the harder she cried and her tears were his undoing. He agreed to let Loghain attempt the Joining ritual and should he live, he would be the Grey Warden that would sacrifice himself to save this future important person. She kissed him so passionately that he fell for her yet again and with only a few hours before the landsmeet, they made fierce and vigorous love to each other.

It was an amazing thing to behold, watching as his love tore apart the traitor's support in the landsmeet. She revealed his treachery at Ostagar, how his second in command Rendon Howe had slaughtered the Cousland family because of the supposed and ultimately false ties to Orlais, how the bastard was selling off the elves in the alienage to slavers from Tevinter to fund his war operations, and of course, the fact that he hired an assassin to kill them so that they would not reveal the truth.

By the end of it, the landsmeet sided almost unanimously with the Grey Wardens, but the war veteran still insisted that there would be a duel until one of them yields. His love placed her trust in him when naming him as their champion to fight in the duel. Maker's breath, did he love this amazingly, remarkable woman.

He defeated Loghain and stated that he would spare his life if he took this champion's command to join the Grey Wardens and help end the blight. Riordan was shocked to say the least, Anora was surprised that he was letting her father live at all, but it was the pride in the snowy elf's eyes that made all of it worthwhile.

The landsmeet asked the Warden Commander who would be the ruler of Ferelden. She declared that Alistair would rule Ferelden alone, that Anora was to set aside all claim to the throne for herself and her future heirs, and that she would be the official mistress to the King. Oh man, was Anora pissed but instead of calling for her execution, he had her placed in a tower until after the Blight was defeated.

Loghain was put through the Joining and lived. As a fellow Grey Warden, Artz immediately set out to better understand the man that had betrayed them. They had a few things to wrap up in Denerim so it gave her the opportunity to essentially wrap the man around her little finger. Turned out that the signal came too late. By the time they had lighted the damn thing, the King's forces were overrun and if he had entered battle with his forces, he would have sent them all to their deaths.

Loghain had to make the hardest decision in his life that day, to save the lives of hundreds of soldiers or try to save the life of his best friend's son. He begrudgingly admitted that ever since then, he had been wracked with guilt. He had promised Maric that he would protect the boy, to teach him and guide him to the best of his ability and he let him die. He would never forgive himself for making that choice.

Alistair had to admit that it did make it a little easier to handle his emotions after hearing that, but he still had questions. Artz, fortunately for him, was way ahead of him. Rendon Howe was the one that framed the Couslands and killed them because of their supposed treason and he was the one that suggested hiring an Antivan Crow to assassinate them. He only agreed because he blamed them for Cailan's death, not knowing that the tower had been infested with Darkspawn and they had to fight off a damn ogre just to get to the damn beacon.

As for the elves being sold off to slavers, Loghain Mac Tir honestly hadn't known that was happening at all until shortly after Howe's death. Anora had taken his seal and arranged the deal to support his efforts to stop the Civil War. The only reason he took credit for it at the Landsmeet was because he had wanted to protect his daughter from the backlash of the nobles. She was his only child, you honestly couldn't fault the man for trying to do his duty as a parent.

So by the end of it all, the man once viewed as a traitor was, in fact, a good man that had to make a terrible choice that ultimately broke his spirit. Alistair had to get away from the man for a while, simply unable to cope with the truth at the moment. Zevran pulled both him and Artz down to The Pearl to meet an old acquaintance of his, one Captain Isabella.

Never in his life did he expect for the four of them to end up naked on the lady pirate's ship. Seriously, you could convince him to do a threescore between him, Artz, and Isabella, but he did not expect to have such a damn good time. He embarrassingly had to admit that the Antivan Crow had a wicked tongue, magical hands, and a persuasive charm. Well, that was something he could strike off of his list of things to do before he kicked the bucket.

Eventually they did make their way back to Redcliffe, only to learn that the darkspawn horde was marching towards Denerim instead of Redcliffe. That night Riordan informed them that the only way for an archdemon to be permanently killed was if a Grey Warden struck the final blow, dying along with the old god in order to destroy its essence.

He would admit that the moment he got to his room, he had a panic attack because he had seen her face. Artz had already known and he saw the resolve in her eyes. Should Riordan fail to strike the final blow, then she would do it herself. No, he couldn't let her die! So he did something that he thought that he would never do, he sought out Morrigan for help. If anyone had an idea on how to get around this damn thing, it would be that blasted swamp witch!

He found her in her room, studying her mother's true grimoire. She looked up at his arrival and immediately questioned why he was disturbing her. He told her about the cost to slay the archdemon and he remembered the stunned look on her face when he managed to ask her for her help in saving Artz from that fate. Morrigan reluctantly revealed that there was a way, a ritual that would conceive a child that would act as a beacon for the soul of the archdemon. It would save the warden that struck the final blow.

He asked her what they needed to do for this ritual and she asked him if he was volunteering for it or should she be asking Loghain for his assistance instead. He agreed to the ritual even without knowing what it entailed. Again she was surprised though it was brief. She explained that he would need to have sex with her in the dark on the eve of battle. To ensure its success, they would have to have sex several times that night, meaning that he would not be able to go to his lover later.

He accepted what needed to be done and immediately undressed himself, watching her do the same. The only reason he was doing this was because he couldn't lose her. He loved Artz with all that he was and all that he ever could be. He could only hope that she forgave him for sleeping with another woman without asking for her permission first.

Even though it was necessary and it wasn't Artz, he did have to admit that physically speaking, he rather enjoyed himself. Mentally and emotionally however, he was a fucking wreck. The next morning, he rejoined the others and saw the pained look in Artz's vibrant blue eyes before it vanished behind a mask of determination and resolve. He didn't get the chance to tell her about the ritual because they had to race across the countryside to get to Denerim.

The darkspawn horde fell upon the capital of Ferelden and they ultimately had to split their team. Sten would lead the group that was guarding the gate, along with a detachment of soldiers. Morrigan, Oghren, and Leliana were going after the general in the market while Solas, Zevran, and Wynne went after the general in the alienage.

Shale just flat out refused to leave, saying that she wanted to squish the archdemon because it was a very big pigeon. Artz had laughed at that, agreeing to the golem's request to join them in their fight against the dragon. Riordan, unfortunately, died after slicing through one of the archdemon's wings and forcing it to land on the top of Fort Drakon. Artz, Alistair, Loghain, and Shale made their way through wave after wave of darkspawn until they finally reached the top of the fort.

This was the toughest fight they had ever fought. They had to scatter in order to man the siege weapons to fire them at the dragon when it drew near. He was really glad that they had gone to Honnleath and activated Shale because the archdemon stayed solely focused on her for the majority of the time. Unfortunately, all good things came to an end and the dragon succeeded in punting Shale over the side of the fort and to the ground below.

Thankfully she was fine, but now they had to re-engage with the giant corrupted dragon. The fire breath attacks were a real killer on stamina and then there was all the random darkspawn getting in the way, making it that much harder to kill the damn thing. Artz was using a greatsword and her abilities as an Arcane Warrior while Loghain battled with a sword and shield.

He got knocked by the damn tail and slammed right into a ballista. The former regent got caught up in the archdemon's mouth before being forced to let go by the snowy elf smacking the flat of her blade directly into its jaw, popping it open and dropping the war veteran. The older man put some distance between him and the dragon so that he could down a health potion, a stamina regeneration potion, and a few greater balms to up his resistance to physical and fire attacks.

Alistair managed to extradite himself from the wreckage of the siege weapon, defending Loghain from several genlocks and hurlocks while Artz battled against the archdemon alone. Once they could reenter the battle with their main foe, it was too late. The snowy haired elven mage jumped onto its back, leapt up the back of its neck, and shoved her greatsword directly into its brain, killing the tainted old God.

A light began to build around the dragon as its essence began to escape its now dead vessel in search of the unborn child within Morrigan's womb. The problem was that Artz was screaming in absolute agony. A pillar of light shot into the sky and for a moment the sky was torn asunder. A nexus of green light burned in the sky for a few moments before it and the pillar of light slowly faded away.

When the two male Grey Wardens could finally regain their sight, they went over to the remains of the archdemon, looking for their Commander. Her sword was still plunged deep into its cranium, but there was no sign of her. They did find a pile of dust that smelled like bone meal and buried within it was a red rose. It was the same red rose that he had given the woman he loved when he realized that he had fallen for her.

No, no it couldn't be. He did the ritual with Morrigan. The Grey Warden that struck the final blow against the archdemon was supposed to be saved from the death that was fated for them. Artz was supposed to be here! She betrayed him! Morrigan lied to him! She used him, used his unconditional love and unwavering devotion to Artz for her evil scheme! He was going to find that damn swamp witch and kill her…and the demonic spawn she conceived within her from the ritual!

Alistair's heart shattered as he fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. Loghain knelt in front of him and in an uncharacteristically kind gesture, he pulled the heartbroken man into his arms and just held him as he cried silent tears, simply unable to stop. This grief would never leave him. He would never move on. He'll never marry or have an heir. He'll still be king…for her. He would name Anora his heir and rule Ferelden until the Calling came. He would go to the Deep Roads and die in battle. Then he'll be reunited with his lost love once more. He had to be strong now, he needed to endure, but by the Maker, he needed her.

---

But…not all was as it appeared to be.

---

In a distant land, an escaped slave from Tevinter mamed Fenris found something in the middle of nowhere after an explosion of green light. Upon investigation, he found the unconscious form of a beautiful elf with snow white hair, dressed in dragon scale armor. The lyrium branded in his skin began to sing as he touched her and he knew her to be a mage. Still, he couldn't leave her here where she could easily be attacked by any number of unpleasant things.

A day later, the woman awoke and was very confused. At first, he thought she was Fade touched in the head or maybe lyrium addled because she said that she was a human from a parallel world and in that world, Thedas was a story. To be more precise, a series of interactive and immersive adventures that thousands of people played for fun. He poked holes in her story, pointing out that she was a Dalish elf though with a unique vallaslin, she was dressed in top of the line armor meant for extreme battle, and that she was a mage.

They spent the next month sniping back and forth at each other. He made her cry more times than he can count but the damn wench wouldn't leave him. She had known his name, insisted that he had actually fought for the brands to free his mother and sister from Danarius, and that the procedure was so painful that it caused him to suppress his memories.

He was ashamed to admit that he actually struck her. He had let his anger blind him for a split second and he instantly regretted the action. She spent the next month and a half flinching every time he drew near and that really hurt him for some reason. He barely knew the woman and what he did know was completely impossible or outright mad, but the fact that he couldn't touch her right now without her flinching away from him, that hurt more than it should have.

They were attacked by a band of slavers. One of them pinned her down and started to remove her armor. It ignited a fury so deep in him that he wasn't even sure what happened next. When he came to, he was lying on the ground covered in blood, both their enemies' blood and quite a lot of his own. His body was littered with wounds and about half of them were fatal. Was Artz alright? Did he save her or did he kill her too?

He got his answer when her face entered his darkening vision. She was crying again and it hurt to see her cry. He struggled to lift his left hand and cup her cheek, asking her not to cry. It made her cry more of course as she reached up and covered the hand touching her face with her own. She repeatedly apologized for him getting hurt, for having to protect her all the time, but he honestly didn't mind.

He wanted to protect her. He told her that, but then proceeded to apologize for hitting her, saying that he never should have done it and that he really hated to see her cry. He was obviously dying because seriously, under normal circumstances, he would not be this forthcoming with his thoughts and feelings, but as he watched her begin to sob, he realized why it hurt to see her cry because he cared about her.

If he could think clearly, he would have realized that in less than three months, he had fallen in love with the mad woman from another world, but that would be ridiculous, wouldn't it? Love didn't happen like that… right? His vision darkened completely and he could feel his body getting heavier, a chill setting in, but then the lyrium emblazoned on his body began to sing. It didn't hurt though, it felt warm like snuggling into a warm blanket or being wrapped in another's arms.

He basked in that feeling. Was he in the Beyond, was this the Maker's light? New sensations took root and he could feel a tingling, like how an appendage fell asleep and now it was waking up, but instead it was occurring to his entire body. He would admit that it was a bit uncomfortable, but the warmth never left so it was bearable for the most part. He suddenly became aware of just how exhausted he was and then the warmth faded.

His eyes snapped open at the loss of the warmth and he found himself surrounded by the rotting corpses of the slavers he had killed. He sat up slowly, realizing that his wounds were gone and there was a snowy haired head in his lap. He turned her onto her back and discovered that she was out cold, the tear tracks having dried on her face. Aside from being unconscious, she appeared to be unharmed.

It clicked in his mind. She healed him. She used her magic to heal him, but how did she know how to do it? Looking down at her, then at the carnage around them. She didn't know how. She healed him out of instinct. Her desire to save him mixed with her heightened emotional state, that's what caused her magic to surface and to take the shape of a massive healing spell which was why she was out cold.

Using magic of that magnitude was incredibly exhausting and most mages would not have the mana reserves necessary to perform such a miraculous feat. He knew she was different, he knew that she was special, and now deep within his heart, he knew that she was his and he would burn the whole of Thedas to the ground, slaughtering the world's populace a thousand times over if it meant keeping her safe.

Things changed after that for the two of them. He started teaching her what he knew of magical theory from his time as a magister's slave, but also taking the time to teach her how to wield a greatsword. She was a natural with the blade, but she needed some training on how to be a scrapper type warrior. She couldn't depend on her magic when around other people like when they visited towns and cities, though she did get the hang of magic wielding, even working out how to hide her aura as a mage.

When she admitted that the spirits were teaching her how, he did get angry. They had a bit of a shouting match until she managed to drill it into his head about the true nature of spirits and that a strong will was needed to keep them from having their purposes perverted which he has reliably informed her that no one's will was stronger than her own, not even his. He also realized that she was a somniari, a rather gifted one at that.

She was just full of surprises, especially when a spirit told her how her runic wristbands worked and they never had to worry about money ever again. Turned out that she was fucking loaded and not just in sovereigns, but in loot as well. She had so many weapons, a vast assortment of armor, a ton of potions and balms, a shit ton of recipes and schematics, a few hundred master level runes, a variety of what she called junk which included useless but valuable jewels, and she had dozens of stacks of herbs and ores…plus pretty much anything related to fighting a never ending war.

They both had the same question though. How did she get all this stuff if she just came from her world a few months ago? He told her to consult the spirits in the Fade as they traveled, maybe they knew what was going on. Artz did bring up the possibility of amnesia and he had to admit that it was possible. She could have collected a great deal of her inventory through some hard core adventuring and going to many different places.

She had things that clearly came from the Deep Roads such as armor meant for the Legion of the Dead which were only found in the deepest tunnels of the Deep Roads. She also had a stack of dragon scales and drake scales, meaning that she most likely fought against at least one high dragon and a few dozen drakes at a minimum. Which meant that she had traveled to the more mountainous region where such creatures lived.

Then there were things that had to have come from a city similar to Kirkwall or Starkhaven. She suggested Denerim or perhaps Val Royeaux. He negated Orlais as a possibility due to the lack of items from the majority of the country. He was actually leaning more and more towards Ferelden, given the amount of wolf pelts in her inventory. She also had iron bark and sylvan wood which pointed to someplace like the Brecilian Forest.

There were weapons and armor that bore the insignia of the town of Redcliffe and she even had some Grey Warden gear as well. Artz started cross referencing items she knew came strictly from the first installment of the Dragon Age franchise, Dragon Age: Origins and she was firmly of the opinion that she had been in Ferelden either just before or during the Fifth Blight which did end a few months ago when the Hero of Ferelden died to slay the archdemon.

She highly doubted that she was actually with the Grey Wardens during the Blight considering she couldn't even wield her magic and was pretty much defenseless. He pointed out that she was a natural with a greatsword and not many people, especially elves, had any talent towards two handed weapons and she could wield a greatsword in one hand easily. The amnesia made her forget mentally, but her body clearly remembered how to wield a greatsword though not as a warrior.

Artz revealed that it was possible to become an Arcane Warrior during the events of Dragon Age: Origins, but it was equally possible that she learned how to be a Knight Enchanter but never used an actual blade, using the spectral blade instead. He negated that too because the spectral blade was infinitely lighter than an actual greatsword and she could do so easily.

She decided to check her stats; attributes, resistances, skills, and talents. Memory loss or not, according to her runic interface, she was indeed an Arcane Warrior. She was also a Spirit Healer, a Shapeshifter, a Battlemage, a Rift Mage, a Champion, a Bard, a Ranger, a Duelist, an Assassin, a Somniari, and an all around badass. Too bad she didn't actually remember how to do any of it.

According to her spells page, she mastered the four basic schools of magic; primal, creation, spirit and entropy. In fact, she mastered all the skills for each class specialization she had except for assassin. The basics for rogue, warrior, and mage were all maxed out. Her attributes were insane, numerically speaking.

Strength: 72

Dexterity: 68

Willpower: 94

Magic: 87

Cunning: 53

Constitution: 97

And that was just the basic stuff! He didn't really have a point of reference to really determine if that was good or bad, but the overall opinion was that it was quite good because she had enough of each attribute to meet the prerequisites needed for more advanced spells, skills and talents. Skill wise was a bit more disappointing though. Apparently the skill point system was not as well defined as the talent/spell system. There were four levels for the skill ranks; basic, improved, expert, and master.

Coercion: Master

Stealing: Improved

Trap Making: Basic

Survival: Master

Herbalism: Master

Poisons: Expert

Combat Training: Master

Combat Tactics: Expert

He actually tested her herbalism skill and she was able to mix some of the highest grade potions and balms like it was the easiest thing in the world to do. She had actually been rather surprised by that herself. Her Trap Making skills were rudimentary at best so that matched up as well. Tactics and Training, there was no doubt there. He did not feel comfortable with her attempting to make the most advanced kind of poisons or grenades, so they decided to leave that alone until they could figure out how to advance that skill to master rank.

She definitely had master level sensory abilities, that was for damn sure. She picked up on animals, random encounters, caravans, merchants, slavers and just about everything else that had a pulse within a ten mile radius minimum. Her stealing was adequate if she was pickpocketing from the normal folk, perhaps some of the more foolish nobles but she definitely needed some improvement.

As for her lock picking skills, she had it maxed out. Knowing the insane amount of locked chests and locked doors there were in the first game, she really wasn't surprised that she would max out that talent in real life. She was a little surprised that she had bothered to max out her stealth abilities, given that she was essentially a warrior mage or what she liked to call a war witch.

It was a rather catchy title, his little war witch. She had glared at him and said that if he called her that then she was calling him her little wolf. He thought that he would be angry, hearing that pet name he had received from his former master, but coming from her, it made him want to pin her to the closest flat surface and show her just how much like a wolf he truly was. This usually resulted in the tips of his ears tinting pink from embarrassment.

After another couple of months, they were nearing the City of Chains, Kirkwall, and Artz received a message from a spirit of Valor warning her that a large group of slavers were closing in on them and that they needed to seek reinforcements if they were to be granted victory. She relayed the message to him the next morning and they both agreed that their best course of action was to go to Kirkwall.

She recommended using a dwarf named Anso to find some people to act as a distraction while they take out the second half of the group. He agreed to her suggestion and they slipped into the city during the early morning hours. He contacted the dwarf she mentioned and then they found a roof to wait on. He had insisted that they get some rest before the ambush tonight and had pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist.

He smirked as she huffed in annoyance at being manhandled, but ultimately snuggled deeper into his embrace. He would admit to himself that this was a rather guilty and selfish pleasure of his. Having a beautiful woman in his arms that refused to give him up or abandon him no matter what he said or did, well there were so few things that he truly cared for and she was at the very top of the list.

Perhaps one day he would be able to tell her what truly was in his heart though knowing his luck, they would end up having sex first, angry sex at that. He really needed to stop thinking about things like this. It always caused him to have a rather hard problem to deal with which was made even worse when the woman he cared for was pressed against said problem and had a tendency to shift in her sleep, causing all sorts of lovely sensations that truly tested his patience and resolve.

Just as Anso promised, a group with three dark haired humans, one blonde haired human, and a dwarf wielding a repeating crossbow entered the alienage as they hoped. They waited for the main group to go by and even he was surprised by how many were in the vanguard. Once the group had split apart, they got to work. With his speed and her stealth, they made quick work of the slavers, but one attempted to get away. He plunged his hand into his chest and let the idiot walk out so his captain knew just how fucked he was.

Once the theatrics were over and done with, they introduced themselves, but soon discovered that his former master had accompanied the slavers to Kirkwall. They set out towards Hightown where he was said to be located. He was genuinely surprised that the group had agreed to help them after they had tricked them, but it was all for naught. Danarius had escaped, leaving nothing but demons to fight off and an empty mansion they decided to squat in.

He had been annoyed to learn that he had been in the company of three more mages. Even more annoyed when he learned that the one named Garrett Hawke was, in fact, a blood mage, yet the lyrium didn't sing harshly around him. It was more like a pleasant hum that he didn't mind having around. The younger female sibling was Bethany and she too was a mage though she was a primal mage, specializing in Winter and Flame.

No, what truly irked him was the blonde spirit mage that had been flirting with his war witch. She obviously didn't realize that the idiot had been flirting with her, so innocent in regards to any kind of romantic overtures directed towards herself. The moment the bastard was gone, he had her in his arms and pinned against a wall, a low growl emanating from his throat. That damn mage provoked his more basic instincts and now they demanded to be appeased.

His lips crashed onto hers in a bruising and dominating kiss. She floundered initially, but he simply pinned her hands above her head with one hand and used his other hand to pull her flush against him. She was completely at his mercy and judging from the lack of resistance, she was enjoying the attention. He was taken off guard when she wrapped her legs around his body, making him lose his hold on her hands. Said hands went into his hair and pulled him back to her, kissing him in return.

He really should stop this. They hadn't known each other very long and he did not wish to make her feel obligated to respond to his carnal desires. His thoughts scattered as she bit his bottom lip, causing him to gasp which was exactly what she wanted because her tongue slipped inside his mouth and he grunted in pleasure. To the Void with this, he needed to be in her, he needed to make her his completely and he needed to do it now!

Neither of them slept that night and come the morning, he had to take stock of what had just happened. They had sex several times in multiple positions then after falling asleep, he got rush of images of people, places, and events. These things were familiar to him and realized that those brief flashes were memories. When she awoke, he told her about them and she happily replied that if he got flashes after the first time, maybe more would come back to him if they did it repeatedly.

Her words took a moment to register in his head and he actually started laughing. He asked her if that was her way of asking for more sex. She said that she wasn't asking and she pulled him to her. He growled low in warning and she simply smirked. Of course he was going to accept her challenge and he was going to dominate her though he knew that she had an indomitable spirit that refused to be conquered. And he loved her for it, amongst other things.

Life with Artz was always an adventure though things became a bit awkward when they met a certain pirate captain named Isabella a few months later. The moment the Rivaini woman saw Artz, she was pinning her against the bar and kissing her quite passionately. He actually had to yank her out of the other woman's grasp. The explanation that followed stunned them both as well as leaving them with conflicting feelings.

According to the lady pirate, Artz was a Grey Warden, but not just any Grey Warden. She was the Commander of the Grey, leader of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden and the Hero of Ferelden who everyone believed to have died while striking the final blow against the archdemon. He was grateful that they had taken this conversation somewhere more private, because Artz was in a state of shock.

She simply couldn't believe that she was the Hero of Ferelden. Especially not the woman that Isabella was describing though he could see it and believed it to be true. Artz was special and given the right circumstances, yes she could easily rally an entire country to face off against the Blight, but she has no memory of any of it. She did get around to asking how they knew each other and the pirate said that it was a certain Crow that introduced them to each other as well as her dashing prince.

This derailed the snowy elf again because the dashing prince was apparently King Alistair who at the time was the bastard heir to the throne. The implication was that she and her fellow Grey Warden were romantically involved and it made her feel horrible because she couldn't remember anything at all and even being told about it made her feel nothing at all. They avoided the Hanged Man for a while, so she could sort out her emotions.

He thought for certain that he would lose her for sure. She was in love with the King of Ferelden and he was just an escaped slave from Tevinter constantly being hunted by his former master and living in a borrowed mansion. There was nothing he could offer her, nothing he could possibly give, nothing but himself, but Alistair, her first love, was an actual king with money, land, influence, and power. There was so much he could give her, provide for her every need, she would want for nothing, her every desire and whim could easily be fulfilled.

Imagine his absolute shock when she kissed him and started removing her clothes and his armor. He tried to stop her, but he honestly couldn't fight her. He loved her and he was selfish. After making rather torrential love to the woman that was his heart, she declared that she was going to stay with him. She had no desire to be the elven mistress of a king. She didn't want power or wealth. She honestly didn't want the headache of owning land or having an official title.

She wanted a simple life, a life of her choosing whether it's a city life or a cross country adventure. It was her life and whatever she had with Alistair was gone. She couldn't linger on what ifs and she would not sink herself into a depression worrying about the feelings of a man she did not remember. Ar lath ma, vhenan. That was what she had said to him. She said she loved him and called him her heart and she was his… his amatus.

---

Over the years, things in Kirkwall got worse. There was already rising tension between the mages and the templars. Then there was the Qunari invasion and the naming of the Champion of Kirkwall, one Garrett Hawke. During those years, Bethany got slammed into the Circle of Magi that was housed in the Kirkwall Gallows, Carver nearly died in the Deep Roads from the Blight but Anders was able to get him to the Wardens in time and he survived the Joining, and Hawke's mother Leandra was nearly murdered by a necromancer but Artz intervened, managing to save the woman's life.

Then there was the fiasco that was Cullen Stanton Rutherford when he learned that Artz was alive when everyone back in Ferelden believed she had died. He laid into her hard about how torn up Alistair was about her death and here she was traipsing about with a new lover like she never even cared about the king of Ferelden in the first place. He actually made her cry and just stood there as he continued to shout at her. Good thing Fenris had not been there at the time, because the Knight Captain would have had his heart ripped out.

In the end, Artz bolted and no one could find her. She was captured by Tevinter slavers that worked for Danarius's prized student, Hadriana, and the woman used blood magic to torture her while waiting for Fenris to come to her. He had been furious and he did eventually kill the damn bitch, only to shove his foot in his mouth when he said what has magic touched that it hasn't spoiled?

Artz, who had been healed by Anders while he was interrogating Hadriana, had just been broken by that one line after all of the blood magic used on her mind to break her and the thing that managed to break her spirit, Fenris running his damn mouth in anger. She slumped to the ground, eyes a dull silver. All of their vibrancy and color were gone and so was her will to exist. Anders freaked out, shouting in alarm as her heartbeat began to slow down.

Her life force was fading away and the escaped slave from Tevinter panicked. He pulled her into his arms, begging her to stay with him, that he was sorry, that he didn't mean it, that he was just angry, but his words could no longer reach her. He pleaded with Anders and Garrett to help her, that there had to be some way to save her and there was but it was risky and would require someone to sacrifice themselves to do it.

He said that he would do it, that he would be the sacrifice. He caused this to happen and he had to make it right. Hawke and Anders prepared the array needed for such a complex and powerful spell. It would take both spirit healing and blood magic working in tandem, the slightest mistake meant death for all of them. The two mages worked their spell and by the time it was done, all of them were on the floor.

Fenris was the first to rise, panicking that he was still alive. He checked on Artz to discover her eyes open, back to their normal vibrant shade of blue and she smiled at him. Tears came to his eyes unbidden and she suddenly had her arms wrapped around him. He almost lost her for good, but why was he still alive when it was his essence that was supposed to be sacrificed to save her?

He turned his attention to the other two men in the room. Both were on the floor and neither seemed to be stirring or even breathing. No…they didn't…did truly sacrifice themselves to save them both? If that was true, he would never forgive himself. He crawled over to Anders and Artz went to Hawke. She reported that the eldest Hawke sibling was alive though he was thoroughly exhausted. He was going to need several days of rest before he would be able to do anything at all.

That left Anders, the bloody abomination and annoying spirit healer that he really didn't want to acknowledge as his friend but the idiot totally was. He reached out and touched the former Grey Warden, tears still flowing down his face. They dropped onto the man's face, making the blonde flinch from the sudden contact. He held his breath and waited. He wasn't disappointed either because the spirit healer opened his eyes.

He was exhausted but he was alive. So what happened? Why were none of them dead? He got the answer later that day. The reason why none of them were dead was because the spirit of Justice within Anders used himself as the sacrifice, saving Artz and freeing the spirit mage at the same time. The blonde man wasn't the same after that and he spent the better part of a year dealing with the sudden emptiness inside of him, commonly feeling lost and confused.

Artz and Fenris visited him often, eventually they decided that the former Grey Warden was moving in with them. The mansion now actually belonged to Fenris because Artz found the deed to the place, along with the title tied to the property. She got him drunk one night and got him to sign the papers, making him an actual Comte… Lord Fenris and his war witch. Still, they wanted to be there for the man that lost his friend.

Fenris did actually confront Cullen about his behavior towards the snowy haired elf, but he refused to listen until the former slave dropped the revelation that because the Knight Captain had upset her, she ended up in the hands of a Tevinter blood mage and nearly died from being tortured with blood magic. Cullen went silent after that which allowed him to reveal to the knight captain that Artz suffers from amnesia, that she has no memories of her time as a Grey Warden nor did she remember anything about her life with her clan… the archdemon's final victory.

Oh boy did the blonde haired Templar become incredibly morose and guilty and lots of other emotions too, mainly self loathing. He actually left the Gallows, went to Hightown, straight into the mansion, and actually knelt before the snowy haired elf and begged for her forgiveness, that he had no right to treat her the way he did, especially when he didn't know what truly happened. He had assumed far too much and he hurt her with his callous and thoughtless words. He even apologized for making her run off and getting captured by maleficarum.

The Knight Captain had been shocked when she hugged him tightly and said he was forgiven, that there was no way he could have known. She hadn't even known they had met so she didn't know that they needed to talk this out. The blonde haired templar slowly returned the embrace but did ask if she was going to tell Alistair that she was alive.

She hadn't planned on it, considering that if he knew she was alive then he would come to get her. He would expect her to be the woman that loved him during the Blight, but that wasn't her. She held no memory of him or the feelings she once had for the man. It wouldn't be fair to do that to him. She loved Fenris and she was staying with him. She hoped that he would understand why she made this particular choice and he did. It didn't hurt any less, but he was glad that she was alive.

The entire thing with the Qunari was just the ultimate shit storm that did eventually blow over. Danarius did finally come in person, using his sister to bait the trap at the Hanged Man, but instead of killing him, he had his amatus render a fate much worse than death upon the bastard. She removed his ability to do magic… any magic. He was completely powerless and once people found out… the hunter became the hunted.

The revenge was sweet though perhaps not nearly as instantly satisfying as killing the man, but definitely a much more fitting form of justice. As for his sister, he almost killed her, but one look in the frightened woman's eyes and he simply couldn't do it. He told her to leave and that he never wanted to see her again. So that was that over with. Side note was that Bartrand eventually showed back up in the city and was now institutionalized and they had to somehow un-haunt the guy's house.

During the last several years, Artz and Anders had been investigating something they called The Enigma of Kirkwall. It took a lot of work, but they discovered an ancient Tevinter blood magic ritual and that the city itself was built to be the ultimate magical array, an attempt to replicate the Sidereal's journey to the Golden City. Their findings were quite compelling but so was the danger they were all in.

The city had been badly damaged during the Qunari invasion and the recent tremors that everyone had been feeling at random intervals which everyone was blaming the Mage Underground for were a sign that the array had finally destabilized. The fluctuations of magical energy appearing throughout the city further solidified their research as fact. The problem was finding the nexus point in which all of the once dormant magical energy would be flowing to.

Artz finally located it shortly before Knight Commander Meredith and First Enchanter Orsino went to speak to Grand Cleric Elthina. She grabbed Anders and they headed towards the Chantry to conduct an emergency evacuation of the religious site immediately. Guardsman Donnic and husband of Guard Captain Aveline was walking through Lowtown on patrol and she told him to get Hawke and his crew to the Chantry pronto.

He left for the Hanged Man where several members of their usual crew were currently located; Merrill, Varric, and Sebastian. Isabella was with Hawke at his estate and Aveline was currently visiting Fenris, enjoying a day off for once…mostly at Artz's insistence. Anders and Artz bolted into the Chantry and started herding people out, the tremors becoming worse and actually shaking the whole building which definitely got people's butts to finally move.

The rest of their friends congregated outside the Chantry as Anders herded the last group down the steps before turning back to the building and waiting for the snowy elf to return with the Grand Cleric. The knight Commander made to storm inside the Chantry to speak to Elthina, but the spirit mage blocked her path, telling her that she couldn't go inside. She charged up a smite, willing to do whatever it took to clear her path when everything started shaking in earnest.

Everyone started yelling and shouting as many of them fell to the ground. The sound of stone being ripped apart reached their ears and everyone turned their attention to the Chantry. They stared in horror as the building was pulled apart and a beam of blood red light shot forth into the sky. A green flash of light appeared for a moment before all the debris from the chantry suddenly exploded outwards through the air, the green and red light shows fading away.

The Knight Commander blamed the spirit healer for the explosion, believing that he was solely responsible for the Grand Cleric's death and declaring that she was enacting the Rite of Annulment. She left to muster her forces and First Enchanter Orsino fled to the Gallows to prepare his people for all out war. Fenris blocked the arrow fired by the Prince of Starkhaven, Sebastian Vael, as he attempted to murder Anders to avenge Elthina's death.

The two handed warrior explained the Enigma of Kirkwall that Artz and Anders had been investigating. The explosion they just saw was the ancient Tevinter blood magic ritual being accidentally activated. No one was prepared for the former Grey Warden to start wailing in sorrow and despair. Hawke was able to get the spirit mage to choke out what was causing him to be this way.

Artz was still inside the chantry when it exploded. Merrill dropped to her knees and just wept. Varric tried to comfort her, but he was starting to lose emotional control. Sebastian sank to his knees as well, a constant stream of prayers pouring from his lips. Aveline straight up left to defend the innocent people of the city and to find her husband. Isabella, tears and all, whispered to Hawke that Kirkwall needed its champion right now.

Everyone looked at Fenris when he snorted in disbelief. I'll believe she's dead when I see a body until then she's alive somewhere because if there is one thing I believe in…I believe in her.

---

And he was right to believe.

---

Within the Divine's personal study at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Divine Justinia V sat in her chair, waiting for the remaining delegates for the mages and the templars to arrive, sipping from a cup of tea. Leliana Nightingale, veteran of the fifth Blight and current Left Hand of the Divine, was sitting on the sofa against the wall.

"Are you certain about this, Dorothea? She possesses no memories of her life in Ferelden nor does she remember anything from the years she spent in Kirkwall. I do not believe she can withstand the burden of command as she is now. Please allow me more time to find the Champion of Kirkwall before making a final decision." The redheaded chantry sister requested, doubting this course of action.

"I understand why you would believe she is not strong enough for such a monumental task. The last few years have been terrifying to her; people knowing her and yet she does not know them, trying to live up to the expectations of not one but two different versions of herself, attempting to relearn that which she already knows and having no one see the current version of herself without wanting one of her past selves instead." The Divine began and the former bard had the decency to look ashamed.

She was guilty of that, so many times over. She so desperately wanted her friend back that she oftentimes reacted more harshly than she should. She should have been kinder to her, using a gentle hand to guide her scared and lost friend. Leliana wished she could start over from the beginning, go back to when Artz first appeared in Val Royeaux, within the Grand Cathedral itself.

Her arrival in a flash of green light terrified the members of the chantry, believing her to be a demon. The few templars left within the capital came forth and prepared to smite the poor woman, but then she raised her head and the former Orlesian bard called out the order to stop. She had rushed to her friend's side, babbling about how she was alive and that she was so happy that she had not died in Kirkwall.

Hearing her friend ask who she was broke her heart and she snapped at the poor woman, saying that she could not be suffering from amnesia again. She dragged her from the hall and into a side room, practically interrogating her from the start and demanding that she drop the amnesia act. She had been so scared, crying in fear and confusion. Had it not been for Cassandra walking in when she did, she was certain that she would have struck the snowy haired elf.

Watching her scramble away and cower against the wall, mumbling that it was just a dream and that none of this was real, that she was lying asleep in her bed back home… it destroyed her. Artz had truly lost herself a second time and with it, she lost the love she felt for Fenris, just as she lost the love she felt for Alistair. Why did the Maker do this…give back her friend, only to rape her mind and resetting everything to before she even came to this world?

The next few years were terrible for her, but even worse for her friend. She had been a gruelling taskmaster, making her relearn everything she once did and she struggled, she struggled so hard. So many times she cried and yet she still worked through the tears, the fatigue, the horrendous headaches, the lack of sleep and even proper nutrition because she forgotten to eat, focusing so hard on her many, many lessons.

The left hand of the Divine knew that she was a terrible person. Her friend, her best friend needed her and she failed her in the worst way possible. Artz could not stop flinching every time she drew near, commonly apologizing and promising to get right back to work. She did that, she did that to someone she loved like family, like a sister. How she wished she could take it all back?!

"Have faith in her, Leliana. She will not give up so easily. My decision stands. Artz Lanaria will lead the Inquisition should the Divine Conclave fail to achieve peace." Divine Justinia stated firmly, resolute in her decision.

"As you command, Most Holy. I shall return to Haven. Do you wish for me to take her with me when I do?" The former bad conceded, rising to leave.

"Let the poor girl sleep a little longer, Leliana." The Divine replied with a soft laugh and glancing at the woman that was completely out cold on a cot near the far wall.

The Left Hand of the Divine glanced over at the snowy haired elf that was her friend, her eyes softening in sorrow and her stomach burning with guilt. It was her fault that she was like this. She had insisted that she learn the name of every delegate, negotiator, scribe, servant, stable hand, mercenary and every other person that would be walking these halls while she and Cassandra were setting things up in Haven for the highly likely rebirth of the Inquisition.

Even now, knowing just how cruel she had been all this time and the terrible effect it has on the elven woman, she couldn't seem to stop hurting her. What's a little more…she would rationalize. She has endured this much, certainly she can endure a little longer, no? The redheaded chanty sister walked out of the study, her eyes stinging from the need to form tears but she refused to shed a single tear.

She did not have the right to cry…not after everything she's done. She would never allow herself to forget that she deserves to feel this way. Almost ten years ago, Artz said that she would never be like her mentor and former lover, Marjolane. She was wrong. She has become a monster, reducing someone she loves to tears and despair…that's exactly what Marjolane did to her when she left her at the mercy of that sick bastard that used her body to sate his lust however and whenever he pleased, willing or not.

Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker of Truth and Right Hand of the Divine, joined her as she left the Temple of Sacred Ashes, falling into step beside her. She must have sensed the conflict within her or simply knew her too well.

"You did what you thought was best, Leliana. For the sake of Thedas and for the Hero of Ferelden." The dark haired woman commented.

"What I did was terrify an innocent woman so much that she now acts like a slave that has been repeatedly punished for anything and everything, even though none of it is her fault at all. I did that, Cassandra, to someone I claimed to love as a sister. It had nothing to do with Thedas. I so desperately wanted my friend back that I tried to force her to become the woman she once was, only to severely damage her kind spirit. I would give anything to have a second chance, to do things the right way…for her." The chantry sister replied with a great deal of loathing and scorn directed at herself.

The Nevarran royal fell silent and the two continued on to the village of Haven. The former Orlesian bard remembered when she had first come to this place. It was very different ten years ago. Everything was less developed then and there was a dragon worshipping cult in residence that was holding the scholar, Genitivi, prisoner and killing any who sought the scholar or the Urn of Sacred Ashes.

They had cleared the place out and she remembered laughing at how the snowy elf took everything that wasn't nailed down. She opened every chest, rummaged through every crate, looked in every vase, sifted through every pile of filth, pilfered every bookcase and looted every corpse. She was methodical, meticulous even, saying things like knowledge was power and they're dead, they don't care.

She would dig up every grave if they let her or raid every tomb. If spirits took exception to them, it was because their natures had been perverted by others or bound by another's greed. In fact, most spirits adored Artz, calling her a true spirit mage. Spirits would flock to her in places where the Veil was thin and offer her advice, guidance, and knowledge. It was how she was able to become an Arcane Warrior.

They had found an orb deep within the ruins of a temple in the Brecilian Forest and the spirit trapped within offered the snowy elf its knowledge in exchange for the orb's destruction, finally granting it the peace that had long since been denied to it. Artz granted its request and gained a knowledge that was once lost to time. She used it well, especially when she found the sword called Spellweaver.

As she recalled, they found the Spellweaver sword within the caves that led to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The place had been infested with cultists, dragonlings and drakes. She remembered that the elven woman actually squealed with delight while she was looting the body of the Arcane Warrior Cultist Overseer. The look on her face as she held the blade in her hands, her magic rippling over the silverite while infusing it with a prismatic sheen… euphoric was not a strong enough word.

They walked through the main gate of the village and she recalled how their companion, Stan of the Beresaad, had challenged Artz to see if she possessed the strength needed to truly command them. The woman defeated him soundly and took no offense to the sudden attack from an ally, stating that it was the Qunari way and that she would have been severely disappointed had he not challenged her.

In private though, she told Leliana the line, What's an attempted murder amongst friends, eh? The redhead smiled slightly in remembrance before guilt sliced painfully through her being. Her friend's smiling face was replaced with the tear stained face of the woman that now feared her. How could she have done this to her? She loved her and she destroyed her!

She wasn't even going to bother to ask the Maker for forgiveness because she did not deserve it. She did not deserve Artz at all; her forgiveness, her friendship, her love. She was unworthy of her. She remembered Marjolane's words back in Denerim about how they were the same, how she had molded and shaped her into what she was, and she most definitely was a monster.

A single tear managed to escape before she could lock down her emotions. She was hit by an old memory of when she and Artz had been bathing together in a river. It was shortly after she had revealed the truth about her past as a bard and she believed herself to be a monster then too. The snowy elf had taken her face into her hands, a gentle smile on her face.

Monsters do not shed tears but you do. If you were truly evil, Leliana, then you would not feel so tortured about the things you have done. Feeling any kind of guilt or remorse or regret simply proves that you are indeed a good person. You have had a shitty life in many ways, but it doesn't change the fact that at your core, you are kind. You may get lost sometimes, but I have faith that you will always find your way. Besides, do you honestly believe that I care for you so little that betraying me would make any difference?

In the privacy of her tent, she allowed herself to show her true feelings and even though she had promised herself not to, she allowed herself to cry. She had to do better, be better. She needed to be the woman that Artz believed her to be, but she was afraid, afraid that she could not do it alone. She needed to pull herself together and fix the mess she's made. She would make Artz feel safe again, she had to.

Once again composed, she rose to enter the chantry, only to feel a stillness in the air. She knew this feeling. She had felt it in Denerim, right before Artz slew the archdemon. It was like the world was pausing, that moment before everything shattered. She immediately turned around to stare at the Temple of Sacred Ashes in the distance.

No…something was about to happen, something big. Something so monumentally huge was about to occur and it would shake Thedas right to its very core.

The redheaded chantry sister watched in horror as there was a brief pulse of magic in the air and the Temple of Sacred Ashes exploded in a bright green light, debris flying everywhere. A beam of spiraling green, magical energy shot towards the sky and a giant schism erupted into existence, leaving a gaping emptiness to another world. She could feel it, the essence of the Fade. There was no mistaking this feeling, it was the same as when the Sloth demon trapped them within nightmares.

This was no dream and the Veil was indeed torn asunder. The world of spirits forced open and shooting out giant balls of green energy. Things became extremely hectic and everyone was scrambling either for safety or for cover. Leliana grabbed her bow and arrows and made her way towards the wreckage of the Divine Conclave.

She wielded a bow that Artz had gifted her, The Sorrows of Arlathan and beneath her chantry apparel was the armor that had been bestowed upon her after joining their group to fight the Blight, The Battledress of the Provocateur. The suit embodied the paradox of the bardic spy. The intricate details yearned for an audience, but a worthy owner gave only a glimpse in the reflection of a blade drawn swiftly from the heart.

She wore the Harvest Festival Ring that they had picked up in Honnleath shortly before awakening and recruiting the golem known as Shale. A simple looking thing but enchanted to boost strength, dexterity and attack power. She wore the Fencer's Cinch to also boost her attack power. She had replaced her Seeker's Circle pendant for a medallion that bored Artz's mark, the blue box called a Tardis and it was enchanted to boost her speed, stealth, and granting her the ability of Rapid Aim but without costing her any accuracy.

She fought hard to help the people, grateful for the enchantment on her quiver that returned her arrows after they stopped moving. It allowed her to fight longer and she did have to draw her hidden blade occasionally when a corrupted spirit got too close. She knew better than to refer to them as simply demons. These were spirits forcibly dragged from their home in the Fade. They were like rabid dogs, attacking blindly while their entire being screamed in agony.

Cassandra eventually made it to her and they fought side by side, trying to reach what was left of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The Seeker wanted desperately to find the Divine, but Leliana knew in her heart that Dorothea was already dead. No, she was going to the temple to find Artz. That woman had survived certain death twice before. This time would be no different.

They fought long and hard for days. They barely had time to rest and even less time for actual sleep. People were dying all over the place and there seemed to be no end. They did get a reprieve in the form of an elven apostate, claiming to be an expert on all things Fade related. Cassandra did not trust him, but the former bard did.

Why? Because his name was Solas. Artz had named her mabari after this very man and wanted desperately to meet him. The chantry sister decided that since her friend had trusted him even without meeting him personally then she would give him the benefit of the doubt. They were fortunate that he arrived when he did. His healing abilities were above average…he was no spirit healer, but his barriers were exceptional.

They soon received a report that a woman matching Artz's description had fallen out of a Fade rift, her left palm sparking with the same green magical energy that had torn the sky asunder. She was brought back to the chantry and placed on a cot down in the dungeon. She was not shackled and the only reason she was down there was for her protection from the masses.

The people wanted to lynch her immediately, blaming her for the Divine's death, but Leliana knew that she had done no such thing. Artz was a terrified little mouse that would cling to every soft spoken word that Divine Justinia said, a port in the torrential storm that her life had become. She loved Dorothea like she was an adopted mother figure and she knew the Divine viewed the snowy elf like she was her own child.

The hedge mage, Solas, examined her friend for days, but everything he tried seemed to fail. He was obviously becoming frustrated, Cassandra suspected duplicity and was threatening to execute him, but there was something in his eyes. Every time he looked at Artz's face, his stormy blue grey eyes were fixated on the woman's vallaslin. The tree branches of Mythal molded to the shape of a wolf like mask and in a vibrant shade of blue that was a shade or two darker than her eyes.

She wondered why her vallaslin fascinated him so, but it also seemed to bring out conflicting emotions within the elven apostate. There was a hint of anger, a touch of sorrow, a great deal of confusion, something that looked very close to heartbreak, and he was definitely befuddled. The last one was usually the typical reaction Artz received from anyone who realized that she was a walking, talking mystery wrapped in an enigma with several layers of impossible and was usually followed by the uttered statement of What the fuck.

Eventually the elf declared that there was nothing more he could do and that her condition was not improving. Every healing and regenerative spell he tried did not work. It was as if her body was simply absorbing the magic rather than being affected by it. He dared not use magic on her again out of fear of overloading the Mark and killing her. He did state the Mark possessed the same kind of magic that opened the Breach and in theory, it could close it, but the likelihood of her surviving, let alone awakening, were slim at best.

The former bard convinced the seeker to allow the elven apostate to leave the village to study a nearby rift. She agreed begrudgingly and ordered the crossbow wielding storyteller of a dwarf to go with the bald elf as backup. That and the Nevarran royal really needed a break from the insufferable rogue that seemed to live to needle her at every possible opportunity.

The redhead wished that she could remain with the snowy elf that was her friend, but her agents needed her to coordinate their efforts, sift through their reports, and direct the information to the correct people and locations. She could only continue to believe in her and her ability to do the impossible. She would admit that her faith in the Maker and his bride were severely shaken, but her faith in Artz was stronger than ever.

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Now all they could do was wait.

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