"Carver," Solona whispered.

A boat hung overhead, drifting along an axis independent of gravity. When Carver slowly sat up, other mundane ornaments faded in and out of view. Nothing in the Fade lasted beyond the thought sustaining it. Including the terror gripping Carver's heart.

"Easy." Solona helped him sit up, then rise to his feet. "The emissary pulled our minds into the Fade. The others are scouting ahead for traps. We don't know where in the Fade the emissary drew us to, though it seems he likely knows less than we do."

A sunlit cityscape sprawled around them, stone and wooden structures rising where only foundations remained in the real world's Blackmarsh. Particularly strong thoughts were sustaining the environment – thoughts from the Blackmarsh's townsfolk and baroness who yet lived in the Fade. Carver minutely trembled as he put one foot ahead of the other. Solona walked beside him, pretending not to notice.

No matter how Carver felt about the Fade, it couldn't compare to what Solona must have felt in Knotwood Hills.

"Are you alright?" Carver murmured.

Solona knowingly glanced at him with steel blue eyes. "For the mission and those under me, I am."

Carver could relate. "You don't have to be strong for anyone."

Like a puppet without strings, Solona slumped against Carver's side, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked. She drooped — before abruptly straightening up and palming Carver's rib. "Where's Summer Sword?"

Carver released a chuff at the reminder. "I came here straight from the celebration in the capital."

Solona nudged him. "You didn't have to do that."

"I was worried about you," Carver firmly defended. He wrapped an arm around Solona and slowly pressed her against his shoulder. She grudgingly loosened up. "Besides, the sword deserves a break after relieving the archdemon of a leg."

"Really?"

"Really."

Solona's lips twitched upwards, her countenance glowing at the violent imagery. The thought of murder evidently soothed her. When they saw where Nathaniel, Sigrun, and Anders awaited, the two cousins slowly parted.

Solona muttered to his shoulder. "The Fade terrifies you."

Carver bit his lip, conscious of their company and of Solona's situation. "Technically…I shouldn't be alive."

They caught up with the rest of the party, where Anders heard Carver's aside. "Does the chatty knight have dramatic gossip to share?"

Solona looked at Carver with slightly wide, glittering eyes.

Sigrun turned to Anders. "I haven't known Ser Carver to talk much."

Anders pivoted off with a sarcastic gesture. "You should have seen him when we took Soldier's Peak."

Everyone hurriedly walked after Anders before they could lose sight of the slippery mage. Solona shot one final look at Carver before taking the lead. The Spirit Warrior was a rare yet known specialisation for fighters who weren't born Fade-touched. Through deep wisdom and natural attunement, these warriors were bolstered by spirits who augmented mortal abilities in exchange for a glimpse of the physical world. Naturally, the Chantry's Templars rarely acknowledged that distinction.

It helped that few outside the Circle bothered to brave the substantial Fade studies required to comprehend spirit warrior abilities. A small number of dwarves in history had specialised in the field, and none had lived in the same era of each other. Accidental acquisition of similar abilities were in fact more common. Case in point, Fenris with his lyrium tattoos; Seekers, who could briefly call on spirits to perform the Seeker-making process that reversed Tranquility; and finally, the guardian in Haven, who was an incomprehensible miracle on his own.

The way of the Spirit Warrior was a high-cost, low-reward specialisation. In another timeline, it would even die off completely after certain events in Kirkwall. If blood mages could draw a demon into a Templar, there was a fear that they could likewise abuse spirit warriors.

Regardless, Solona understood what it meant to be sustained past one's natural lifespan. Although what Solona knew of spirit warriors and of Wynne's situation didn't accurately define Carver's circumstances, the mage warden perfectly misunderstood Carver. At the very least, Solona was quietly pleased sharing something with her cousin.

Carver was a lying coward. He was also tormented and relieved that given the "part" of the Fade they were in, the original Carver couldn't be there. Not when the original Carver shouldn't know about the Blackmarsh, much less be able to imagine it pre-Rebellion days.

The path ahead suddenly exploded with fire.

Everyone whipped their gazes to Anders.

"Demons!" he pointed in defence.

The flames abated to reveal a ring of desire demons around a rift. The demons turned their voluptuous bodies towards the party – and hissed with a row of fangs so wide, their faces split in half.

"By the Stone!" Sigrun yelped.

Solona shapeshifted into a spider and tore at them, instantly killing all of them. Nathaniel and Carver nocked arrows pointed at their surroundings while Solona shifted back and peered at the rift, then at the pedestal below it. The warden swayed, holding a hand up to her mouth in nausea. Whatever the demons had created, the pedestal had obviously helped them keep the rifts open.

With a gesture, Solona encased the pedestal in rock and shattered it. The rift jerkily twisted, unfurled, then vanished with a burst of light. Everyone nearly fainted at the sudden weight upon their minds.

Anders and Nathaniel held on to each other. "For this many demons to exist here," Anders remarked, "there must be more. Demons tend to congregate where opportunities to enter the living world arise."

Solona pointed her chin at a distant, boldly-coloured roof marking the centre of town. "Let's stick together and sweep the area. We should eventually find if not minds, then spirits further in."

The party trusted the mages who had passed their Harrowings, and fell in line. With every rift and ring of demons they cleared, the sensation of watching eyes grew stronger. When the flashy roof grew into more than a square patch of colour, a man in front of a barred gate stopped them.

"Wanderers?" the man squinted at them. "I can't remember when we last had visitors. You best not be demons!"

Solona held up a hand at the man's grip of his sword. "You be a folk of the Blackmarsh?"

"I am he," the man warily replied, loosening his grip. "Have you come for the town? That bloody baroness is imprisoning us here so long as we cry injustice at her misdeeds."

"Baroness?" Nathaniel echoed. "Ferelden hasn't been home to such ranks since the Orlesian occupation. You guard a changed town, friend."

The stranger's lips pursed before he stepped aside, clanking the gate open. "We evidently share confusion. Seek the bounds of the baroness' property; there you will find the townsfolk and the spirit of Justice that has come to help us."

After crossing several streets, the party learned that the townsfolk had gathered…into a mob.

"Another of the Orlesian's dogs!?"

"Drive them off!"

"Begone, foul spirits!"

Nathaniel ducked as Carver caught a thrown brick their way. A fistful of mud clipped his hair and splattered on Anders' mage dress.

"We're not Orlesian!" Solona rebuked as she cast shields over the party. "Or demons!"

Sigrun stood in the centre of the party, nonplussed by the rioting of taller people. "Those two are comparable?"

"Halt, good people!" A tall suit of armour similar to the gatekeeper's stepped in, bellowing. Though the figure inside couldn't be seen, their every word naturally boomed out of their armour. "While I cannot speak for the mortal's company, she exudes a benevolence worthy of spirits." The stranger softened their voice, nearly melting Carver's fear away when he heard it. "What calls you here, good mortal?"

Solona straightened. "My companions and I were pulled into the Fade by a darkspawn mage. We seek to undo his wickedness and return to the waking world."

"Then you also suffer from injustice," the armoured stranger spoke. "A spirit of Pride has trapped the people of the Blackmarsh in the Fade. Pride follows the will of a baroness who once stole and slaughtered the people's daughters. Join us, as we gather to force Pride's walls down and demand she makes amends!"

Anders scoffed. "What's in it for us?"

Solona shot him a look before addressing the outspoken stranger. "You do not play on one's insecurities as demons do. I would have your name, spirit."

The figure shook their head. "I have none – only a virtue to which I aspire."

"Justice," Solona recognised. "Should my companions and I help you bring peace to the townsfolk, will all of you likewise assist us with our troubles?"

The mob and the spirit of Justice glanced at each other, then at the subtle griffon texture of Solona's leather armour. A hesitant consensus resounded, led foremost by Justice.

"Very well, then." Solona gestured, and the party formed up behind her.

Justice and the mob surged against the baroness's property gates, before the wood moaned and finally splintered. Justice barrelled through, knocking down demons crowding the baroness's courtyard. Carver quickly bolted after Justice to pull them back by the shoulder.

A woman sauntered out of the property's mansion and into the courtyard. "Well well, if it isn't a swarm of insects––"

BOOM!

Justice and Carver flew back into the ground as Solona levelled the mansion – and Pride with it.

Mostly.

Pride twitched up out of the scorched earth, spitting ash. "Kill them all!"

Carver rose back-to-back with Justice as the crowd of demons fell upon them. "Solona! Watch out for the emissary!"

Carver rapidly fired arrows from his bow while Justice cut down a mass of hostility behind him. The spirit hollered back. "I don't suppose your enemy was a tall, filthy creature?"

A quick turn confirmed that the top half of the emissary's torso was bleeding on the ground, dead.

"Maker's breath," Carver muttered.

The hurlock emissary had indeed sought Pride out for power, and had ended up in the crossfire of her mistakes. At least Anders was having fun with the rest of the party and the mob. The blonde was yelling "Never taunt a mage!" and "Suck on a fireball!" while he set demons on fire.

At that moment, Pride hissed at Nathaniel's clothing. "A Howe has come to claim land lost to him? Ha! Pathetic Ferelden––!"

A bear immediately jumped the demon, claws flying.

Solona had shapeshifted into the Howe heraldry. Carver realised too late that he was with loose glass cannons.

"You are in good company!" Justice remarked at the sight.

Well. Let it not be said that justice didn't belong in a battlefield.

Pride snarled under Solona's claws and an accurate volley of Nathaniel's arrows. Carver realised too late what the demon's raised hand meant before reality abruptly fissured and exploded with eye-watering brightness. It seemed an elephant suddenly collapsed on Carver's mind as he grit his teeth through a migraine––

And unconsciousness.

The burden remained as he slowly opened his eyes. Carver twitched a finger, only to realise that the weight was his own body.

"Why would demons wish to enter the mortal world?" a basso voice rumbled Carver's own thoughts.

Carver sat up and turned, only to come face to face with an orange tabby kitten.

Yellow eyes twitched down a pink nose, then aside to observe a striped tail. "This form is…disgusting."

Anders gasped, falling to his knees. "Nooooo, Ser Pounce-a-lot!"

Carver belatedly realised the fight was still occurring around them, as Solona, Nathaniel, and Sigrun tag-teamed a towering, scaled giant with horns and a whip of lightning. Pride cackled in glee at having entered the real world around them. Anders morosely scooped up his kitten without a care of lightning bolts narrowly missing his head.

Carver launched himself at Anders, diving aside of a crackling whip.

"Anders! Priorities!" Carver hissed.

Anders chuffed at loose blonde strands while Justice squirmed in his grip, yowling. "Unhand me, mortal! There is justice to deliver!"

"Ser Pounce…!" Anders moaned.

Useless. Carver grabbed at his back, only to pull away a bow snapped in half. He had just become useless as well.

"Carver!" Solona shifted back and yelled.

Carver drew his dagger and leapt into the battle. "Coming!"

A mana-draining strike at Pride's wrist startled the whip out of existence, earning Carver a kick to the stomach. He stumbled back into Sigrun like a bowling ball, and they hit the ground hard.

"Insolent pests!" Pride roared,

––Before an arrow pierced its eye.

THUD.

Nathaniel already had another arrow nocked as Pride fell. "You need to work on your reach, Ser Carver."

Solona punched Pride down with a stone fist. Then blasted the demon with a ray of fire that melted the very earth beneath it into lava, for good measure. Everyone only caught their breath when the demon dissipated.

The party regrouped around Anders, who stood up mournfully hugging a possessed tabby to his chest.

Justice glared balefully at the pool of lava. "For what it is worth, I thank you, mortals. I have fulfilled my vow. May the victims of Pride's madness rest in peace, wherever they have gone to now."

"Why?" Anders wailed. "How could that demon cross over with her own body, while you had to possess my cat!"

Carver sighed. "When Pride sundered the veil, everyone was pulled back to the waking world into our own bodies. The townsfolk of the Blackmarsh have long been skeletons; they have, as Justice says, 'passed' away."

Solona nodded. "Meanwhile, Pride and that baroness' wills had merged long ago, so they had grown powerful enough to exist independently. Justice shares none of that history or desire."

Anders frowned at them. "That doesn't explain why Ser Pounce-a-lot had to go."

Carver knew of one instance where a demon could possess a cat, befriend an innocent girl, and declare, "Amalia loves only me now. I am her friend while you are just a stranger." Carver shivered. Honnleath had fallen to darkspawn by the time he and Elissa's party had reached it, so Amalia and her entire family had been slaughtered before Kitten could bewitch anyone. On the bright side, at least a demonic kitten wasn't preying on little girls?

Carver coughed. "Maybe animals are different?"

"We have no time to waste," Nathaniel huffed, trudging back to the distance where they had left their horses. "If the darkspawn are capable of cunning, then everyone in Amaranthine is at risk, including the warden recruits. The walls around Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine City can contain many of my citizens, but they won't hold forever against an organised darkspawn horde. The only ones we can rely on neutralising this crisis beyond such walls are the people standing with me right now."

Solona determinedly agreed, drawing everyone else to follow her and Nathaniel. Sigrun caught up with Solona to curiously ask about the Fade, while Carver warily walked behind Anders at the back of the group. Anders and Justice were quietly arguing.

"To enslave another creature does not seem just," Justice remarked.

Anders spluttered. "Ser Pounce was my pet!"

Justice rumbled in displeasure.

"It meant we were friends who lived together," Anders sulked. "You know, I've never had a real family, but I learned long ago that I can just choose one for myself. There was this mouser in the Circle called Mr. Wiggins. I'd feed him a little, and he would let me pet him whenever I wanted."

Justice's feline eyes narrowed. "That is servitude."

"You're impossible!" Anders stuffed Justice down his robes until only the kitten's face peaked out of his collar.

Anders glanced up at Solona and Sigrun chatting from afar, confirming they hadn't heard his row with a cat. The blonde suddenly glanced aside to where Carver followed, belatedly realising the soldier had been there for the length of it.

Anders grumbled. "Meanwhile, I'm stuck with my boss being flirty with you and Sigrun."

Carver spluttered. "Flirty?"

Anders caught Carver's expression and shrugged. "So you don't swing that way. Doesn't mean Solona hasn't been smiling more recently. Or, rather, twitching her lips upwards. I bet if she smiled, she would be a hundred times prettier."

Carver shook his head vigorously in correction and disgust. He and Solona were family! Leliana was his friend! Honestly, Anders…!

"She really can attract anyone," Anders continued, gesturing to the air, Carver, then the air again. "Templars, soldiers, even a bardic Chantry sister. I mean, how many kinks can you fit into one person?"

"What is a kink?" Justice asked.

Carver frowned at Anders. "Are you repressed?"

"Of course I am," Anders immediately replied. "How can you have a lasting relationship in a tower where your every action is monitored by strangers with swords?"

Carver pointed out, "You're a warden recruit now."

Anders clicked his teeth. "And suddenly everyone wants to talk about their feelings."

Carver shook his head. "You can't keep running away from your issues, you know."

Anders pouted. "Do you ever stop talking?"

"I — you spoke to me!"

"You messed up my cat," Anders returned.

Carver waved a dismissive hand at Solona when they reached the horses. Solona frowned at him but said nothing as she shared a mount with Sigrun and trotted off after Nathaniel. Anders could be Carver's problem for a ride.

Carver glanced at the heavy skies nearly one with the fog, noting the sound of wind despite the absence of it. He motioned to his horse. "Get on."

Anders grudgingly mounted the steed. Carver then patted the horse's hind, stirring it to move on ahead.

Anders whipped his gaze back. "Wait, aren't you––?"

"The saddlebags have enough for a ship out of Amaranthine," Carver shared. "The horse also knows its way back to Vigil's Keep. No matter what you hear, keep riding."

The skies' howling picked up, punctuated with a crack of lightning overhead – no, a skeletal high dragon. The rest of the party ahead jumped, jerking their horses to go after the dragon spirit before it could leave the marshes.

Anders gaped at Carver.

"I told you, didn't I?" Carver reminded. "I was named after the man who freed my father. Now go."

One final slap to the horse, and Anders unwittingly bolted ahead into the fog, vanishing with a tabby kitten and a castle-raised horse. Nathaniel would learn to forgive Carver and Anders for the loss.

Carver ran after the rest of the party, eventually finding them in a treeless stretch of marshes.

"By the Paragons!" Sigrun yelled as she threw daggers at the dragon's joints to no effect. "Are wardens' daily lives this insane!?"

Solona ran circles around the animated skeleton with one hand on the reins, and the other popping off fireballs. Her mana had to be running dangerously low at this point. From a distance, Nathaniel peppered the dragon with arrows, flustered without a weak point to target. With balance returning to the veil, the dragon that Marcilla had banished to the Fade was now returned, summoning its skeletal parts back together. When Sigrun found a chink in smooth bone and shattered it, everyone's eyes lit up.

Nathaniel inhaled slowly, drawing his bow.

Carver panted as he raced for the dragon, summoned a smite, and punched its ribs.

CRACK.

Solona and Sigrun shouted incredulously as the earth shook with the dragon's bewildered stagger. Nathaniel exhaled.

Tink.

CrrraasssshhhhHHHHHH!

Carver and the horses caught themselves as the massive skeleton collapsed, unable to hold itself together. The thrum of magical energy around it bloated and spilled out, uncontrolled, before finally fading.

Solona eyed the assuredly motionless remains. "Whatever this dragon had been while alive, it must have been a monstrous thing."

Nathaniel wandered over to collect bone shards in disbelief. "Wending Wood?"

Everyone nodded simultaneously. "Wending Wood."

Nathaniel fixed a scroll on a raven, focused. "I don't see how that Anders could have beaten you to your mount, Ser Carver."

Carver sat behind the arl, temporarily holding their horse's reins while Nathaniel was occupied. "I was going to grant him space from his commanding officer."

"Ah," Nathaniel acknowledged. The raven took off from his arm.

Sigrun held the reins of her horse while Solona rested behind her in the saddle, low on mana and stamina. "Where is that to?" the rogue curiously asked.

"Vigil's Keep," Nathaniel shared. "Lord Albert will receive guidance on how to strengthen the security of Vigil's Keep, and forward my instructions to Amaranthine City as well. I've learned from the commanders in the king's army that darkspawn tend to stick to soft assaults while amassing numbers, before rushing a heavily-populated target in full force. I suspect that Vigil's Keep will soon either face its second attack, or Amaranthine City will face its first."

Nathaniel clicked his teeth in worry. "My farmers must be suffering. We have to hurry and resolve this crisis."

Nathaniel took the reins from Carver as their flat, grassy path began to twist into the mouth of an overgrown forest. Once they entered the Wending Wood, no skilled whistle from Nathaniel would summon a Howe-trained messenger bird.

It spoke to the Howe family's long history as protectors of the land that the animals of Amaranthine still remembered them. For the common man, such strength could be found in the Howe's crest, or heraldry. The Howe shield had hearts and daggers which, in the language of the Waking Seas, meant life and death. Beneath a woodland creature, the brown bear, the shield used to denote that the Howes were a coastal Ferelden force. While the present Howes no longer had naval power, Amaranthine's naturally steep, insurmountable cliffs ensured no successful invasion would come their direction. The arling's single port cut through a cliff from the bottom; with a portcullis, it was an easy task to seal off the port at the threat of danger.

The Howes had been the first to train carrier birds, given their relative isolation from the rest of civilization while facing the brunt of raiding forces in the Waking Sea. It didn't help that Brandel's Reach, an island essentially occupied by raiders, was just an aisle away from Amaranthine. There were few other locations likewise shaped by the threat of piracy that had learned to pick up on this mode of communication. Estwatch, for one; Denerim, for another. Due to Estwatch's highly desirable location, however, the onslaught of raids and wars upon the island had seen to the unsustainability of training carrier birds. Ironically enough, only Tevinter matched Ferelden in learning to adopt the method where sending crystals proved too costly to maintain. Of course, carrier pigeons in Tevinter were still a rare sight.

In contrast, the impulsive King Meghren had destroyed Ferelden's rookeries to weaken the locals' communication, allowing him to bulldoze the nation under his chevaliers and quickly set him up on the throne. Orlais still didn't grasp the use of carrier birds to this day.

And birds were so last season, according to Leliana.

Speaking of, was that…?

A gaggle of bandits fled in their direction from the Wending Wood, hands flying over their heads and voices wailing. A wooden cart tumbled down a steep bank behind them and flipped over, exploding into flames. The bandits jumped.

"The elf has allies!"

"The elf has come to slay us all!"

"Run!"

Nathaniel and Sigrun spread their horses out to block the path, arrows nocked and daggers ready. The trapped bandits rushed at them with desperate fervour,

—Only for a series of arrows to strike their heels from behind.

Solona perked up in her saddle as a lone archer on a horse stepped out of the Wending Wood, red hair alight with the burning cart's flames. Peeking over the archer's shoulder was a golden hilt.

Carver exhaled fondly as Solona left her horse and ran for the Wending Wood, arms outstretched.

"Leli!"

"Solo!"

Nathaniel and Sigrun finished off the bandits as Leliana dismounted, picked up Solona, and swung her around into an embrace. Carver would recognise the shape of the sword on her back anywhere.

"Leliana," Carver greeted as Nathaniel steered their horse over. "You brought Summer Sword."

Leliana pulled him into a side-hug after he dismounted. Her cornflower blue eyes crinkled. "The others were amused to notice you had vanished into thin air since the middle of the ball, but I thought to also track you down with swiftness. You have a nose for problems, Carver."

Nathaniel furrowed his brow, trying to follow along. "Are the Grey Wardens sending support soon?"

"Denerim is still heavy in its week-long festivities," Leliana informed, passing off Summer Sword and its belted sheath to Carver. "A ball will both open and close the week, whereupon the king will have returned by the last day. The Grey Wardens' leadership was quiet since I last left. From my understanding, Warden-Commander Duncan is prioritising the removal and disposal of the archdemon's carcass over all else."

"The archdemon is dead in the water," Carver recalled. "Literally. I can see how keeping the taint out of the sea would be anyone's highest priority."

"All wardens are called to assist, resistant to the taint as they are," Leliana shared. "Of course some progress was already made before the queen decided on a celebration, but the wardens are hastening to prepare several hundred Joinings. Particularly one for the king."

And Loghain.

Carver released a small breath at that. Duncan was making good on his promise.

Nathaniel descended from his horse. "So you're our only back-up?"

Leliana nodded to Carver. "I figure that by the time the warden's party realised you weren't just hiding from a promotion, it was too late to sneak out after you. All horses have been prioritised for assisting with the archdemon's carcass and the king's arrival. If any warrior or messenger is to find their way out of Denerim, it will be on foot. I was lucky to steal away when I did."

Nathaniel's lips thinned. "I understand the nobility's hesitance to assist the arling of my father, especially after the blight supposedly ended with the archdemon's death. However, talking darkspawn are ambushing my roads and assaulting my cities. Amaranthine needs aid."

Leliana's face fell. "I noticed on my way here. I could only drive off bandits from picking at fallen caravans. It seems a Dalish apostate is slaying both merchants and bandits alike, not to speak of the darkspawn lurking throughout these woods."

Sigrun dismounted her horse. "How did you survive the Pilgrim's Path all on your own?"

Leliana and Solona shared a look. "Hm…experience?"

"Well," Nathaniel sighed, "our other mage just ran off. Your assistance would be most appreciated, my lady…?"

"Sister Leliana," the redhead chirped.

Nathaniel eyed her leather armour, quiver, and bow, then the dead bandits who had recently witnessed her skill.

"…Right," Nathaniel muttered.

;

A/N:

Speed of communication has been the rails to several plotlines in DA, even going back to Origins. Players of Orlais' Great Game certainly benefit — and suffer — from their reliance on land-delivered mail where gossip is concerned. In fact, birds appear to be known for just their song or their feathers in Thedas. Only Dorian uses the phrase, "I heard from a little bird," meaning Tevinter also associates birds with messages. Yet Leliana has to have developed her network of carrier ravens somehow by the events of Inquisition.

I obviously got busy with ideas.

I also took liberties with the canon timeline. The events of DA2 supposedly start one year after DAO; however, in the ending of Awakening, Anders is said to have taught the next generation of wardens for several years, before being called to the Circle and vanishing. I planned for Anders and kitten!Justice to leave Amaranthine at one point, and I thought after the Blackmarsh was as good a time as any.