Chapter 16) Into the Wilds

Cleon POV


"Above all else, children, there is one you must never cross," Hahren Paivel told us, finishing up a tale of all the things to be wary of. "Terrible in her temper, wild in her beauty, Asha'bellanar is not one to be trifled with. If you should ever find yourself in her path, be respectful, be courteous, and, above all else, get away as fast as you can."

"But how do we get away and be polite?" Tamlen asked from his seat next to me.

"Considering your temperament, da'len, you should work on just being polite first." We all giggled at Tamlen's expense. "Oh, and there is one more warning." We all fell silent as Hahren Paivel's face grew even more serious. "If she asks something of you, do it. And don't dawdle. She is not known for her patience. Understood?" We nodded. "Good. Now, run off and play."

We certainly were quick to obey that!


I did not like being here. I did not like being here. What sort of foolishness did the Dread Wolf breath into Duncan for making us come here? Asha'bellanar made her home here! We shouldn't be just wandering about! Not to mention…

I glanced down at my hand and slowly willed it to clench and unclench. It moved sluggishly and I couldn't feel it at all. I'd noticed it this morning. I couldn't feel anything. It made it strange to move and walk. Like I was floating. Honestly, I probably shouldn't be moving at all, but I was stubborn and refused to just sit and wait for my fate. I studied the Vir Assan to fight and survive. I was one of Andruil's hunters. I wouldn't waver!

"You're acting like you've got cobwebs in your head, mate." Startled, I turned and saw Daveth grinning at me. While I got along with this strange shem well, I stayed away from Ser Jory. The fact that he left his pregnant wife for some vague glory just rubbed me the wrong way, and I wasn't getting in an argument here. Maybe I'd yell at him when I was better. "Need someone to dust them out?" he teased. "The darkspawn didn't do enough of that, it seems."

I managed a smile at that. I was not at all happy at seeing those twisted creatures again, especially living. "At least we collected the blood Duncan needed," I murmured. Why would we need blood, though? Blood was powerful. The stories taught us that well. And the burning blood of darkspawn seemed to hold greater power still. If not greater, certain different. "Still, I'm glad to clear them out of the Wilds."

"Ah, but later we'll be fighting a whole bunch of them." Yes, I definitely needed to be reminded of that. Not. "But I wish we could get out of this place. Gives me the heebie-jeebies."

"It bothers you too?"

"Yeah, I grew up not far from here. You get all these tales of the Witch of the Wilds." He shuddered. "Nasty stuff, that. I don't fancy being turned into a frog and boiled in a pot!" Shem'len had a strange idea about how magic worked. And a fascination with being turned into slimy things. "I reckon you don't either."

"No, I hate frogs." Gross and slimy and… and there was something in the bushes. "Shem'len coming."

"How can you tell?"

"You are the only creatures I know that make that think making that much noise in a forest is a good idea." Now, granted, it was hard for anything to move without making noise, but still. "State your business, or…" I trailed off as the shem emerged. "Oh. No wonder you're making that much noise."

Whatever had gotten to him had loved blood. Dried and ripped apart scabs were all over his face and neck, with more peeking through ripped apart cloth on his arms and legs. His nails were chipped and caked in grime as he pulled himself forward inch by inch. I fought the urge to cover my nose as the smell wafted over. Mud, feces, and blood. This shem had been crawling for a long time to get so caked, to the point where even sweat and water did nothing to disperse the chunks that clung to his broken armor. "Who… is that…?" he managed awkwardly as I noticed the others crowd around. "Soldiers? Grey… Wardens…?"

"Well, he's not as half dead as he looks, is he?" the Warden Alistair noted dryly as the soldier collapsed at our feet. "Wow."

"Here, I will heal you," Layla offered, kneeling down next to him. "Hold still, please."

But as soon as she called up the magic, the soldier groaned, and rolled himself away. "No magic," he gasped. Layla's eyes widen at the refusal. "No magic. No mage."

"What happened to you?" Nuada asked, kneeling in front of the soldier. I noticed Aiden help Layla up and frowned at how pale and shaky she was. "Come on, soldier, talk to me."

"They… they came out of the ground." His bleeding hands shook and Nuada took them gently. "Out of the ground, out of the shadows. Please… please help me. I'm scared. I'm so scared."

"It's all right." He glanced up and I saw him looking at Aiden and Layla. What was going on? "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Lots of them. Lots of them. More than before. Way more. Captured us. Ripped us apart. I still… I still hear the screams." The soldier sobbed. "They threw a corpse on me. Thought I was dead. All the bodies…" I'd heard of some hunters who hid amidst the dead to escape something terrifying, but this seemed a little much. "Please, help me. I need… I need to report and… and I'm scared! I'm scared."

"Well, I would be too. Don't feel bad about that." I jumped at the bloom of white light, but Nuada didn't twitch. A quick glance told me Layla was healing the soldier anyway. She was too kindhearted sometimes, but I suppose I could understand, a little. The soldier looked younger that all of us, after all. "How are you feeling?"

"I… wait, the pain is… disappearing?" He gripped Nuada's hand tightly. "I'm… I'm not going numb, am I? Please…"

"No, you're being healed," Aiden informed him softly. The soldier jerked up his head to see the elf and mage standing apart. "Because that's what mages do. They help people."

"And Layla's a sweet girl," Alistair added, shrugging. "I'm some bandages in my pack to help supplement it. Here." He quickly bandaged what he could. "If you head down that path there, you'll make it to the camp."

"Th-thank you…" the soldier mumbled. Alistair helped him up and he swayed. "I'll… I'll go… oh, thank the Maker. Thank you…" He limped off.

"Not even a thank you for Layla," I muttered. "Shem'len."

"I'd guess very superstitious, or he just came from an encounter with a darkspawn mage," Nuada mused. He shrugged at my frown. "Darkspawn have magic too. Uncle Duncan has this huge scar across his back where a sorcerer threw a bolt of lightning his way and he barely dodged."

"I know that man," Ser Jory mumbled, obviously not paying attention to the conversation as he spoke up for the first time in a while. I noticed he was much paler than he had been a while ago. "He left with a squad of seasoned men. And they were all killed? By the darkspawn?" Oh, Creators, please don't tell me the man had thought this would be easy. Didn't anyone learn stories?

"Calm down, Ser Jory," Alistair replied. "We fought them already. We're fine if we're careful." And we ambushed them. "Nothing to worry about."

"But there's an entire army hiding in these blasted trees." There was more to a forest than the trees. They could be hiding in the bushes. "What if more show up? I bet those soldiers were careful, and they were still overwhelmed." I somehow doubted the shem'len had been cautious. "What about us?"

"There are darkspawn about, but we're in no danger of walking into the horde itself."

"How do you know?" He was a Warden. They probably knew this stuff. "I'm not a coward." Fooling me. "But this is foolish and reckless. We should go back."

"I doubt we can go back to Duncan and say we were too scared to continue," I pointed out. I did, at least, try to keep my tone even. I really just wanted to shake the shem, for being an idiot. "I wouldn't be surprised if this was part of a test."

"Well, you'd be right," Nuada confirmed. "If you don't survive this, there's no way you'd survive what's to come. Wardens spend their lives fighting darkspawn."

"Should we not keep moving?" Aiden suggested politely. Layla, pale and frowning, leaned into him, not saying a word. "We want to get out of here before nightfall, right?"

"Yes, you are," Alistair confirmed. "Now, Ser Jory, the whole reason I'm here is because I can sense darkspawn for short distances. They can't take us by surprise."

"You see, ser knight?" Daveth cut in with a grin. "We might die, but we'll be warned about it first!"

"That is reassuring," Ser Jory muttered darkly. "Then, if we are continuing this fool's endeavor?"

As the others began walking again, a sharp snap caught my attention and I turned to see a cat had made the noise. Sleek black fur and glowing gold eyes, it was small and watched us from the shadows. Strange…

"Cleon?" I glanced back to see Nuada return for me. The others were in the distance. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You suddenly stopped." I pointed to the shadows, where the cat still was. Watching. Waiting. "Oh, there's something over there?"

Nuada frowned as he caught sight of the cat and, to my surprise, kicked a rock at it! It ducked and disappeared into the shadows. "Why did you do that?" I demanded, feeling outrage burning in my head. Well, nice to know I could feel some things.

But Nuada's expression didn't change. "I've never seen a cat duck," he noted absently. "I've seen them run and dodge, but not duck like that." He turned to face me. "Have you?"

"I…" Oh. Oh, I got what he was saying. "No. Not like that, at least."

"Then there was something odd about that cat."

"Oh, joy. You might've pissed off something magical."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Remind me to tell you later about how I nearly got a mage in Kirkwall to flay me alive."

"You can't be nonchalant about these woods, Nuada!"

"Why? Is it because of the Witch of the Wilds who commands the trees to pick up young boys and threatens to kill them?" Huh? "I know the stories. Uncle Loghain and Uncle Maric were once at her mercy. She spared them because she wanted something from Uncle Maric."

"Then why are you being nonchalant?"

"You don't follow someone unless you want something from them." …Ah… "That is a bargaining chip, if the need comes. If she's watching us, then she needs something. Otherwise, she would've just killed us."

"…I hate it when idiocy sounds logical."

"I'd apologize, but you wouldn't believe me." He grinned. "Anyway, let's get moving. We're falling behind." So we were.

"Lead on."


"What are you doing?" I found myself asking a short while later as I noticed Alistair duck off the path for something.

"Um… picking flowers?" he answered sheepishly. Why in the Creators' names would he be picking flowers during a serious mission? "You want some?"

"No, and I most definitely wouldn't want the ones you're trying to pick. They're poisonous."

"Oh." He pointed to another patch close-by. "Well, what about those?"

"I… yes, those are fine. Why are you picking them?"

"Oh, I'm going to make a little crown out of them to put on my head. Because I always wanted a crown, you know?" Shem'len and their greed. "And you can't take a joke, apparently." That… wait, that had been a joke? "Good to know! So, you sure those flowers are safe?"

"Yes, they're perfectly safe." He'd been sarcastic. I… right then. Weird shem'len again. Just writing it off as that. "I used to pick them for…" My throat closed up as I realized just what flower I was looking at. I'd picked a bouquet of them for Merrill when I asked her to marry me. "For someone."

"A lot of Wardens had to leave things behind." I was startled by the care and concern in his face. "Sometimes, they got something back."

"Were you made against your will?"

"Not really. Becoming a Warden is the best thing that's happened to me." What? "I've a group of people who love and respect me. I have a family. I never had that, growing up. Just the servants, and then the Chantry." He shrugged. "I never wanted to be a Templar. Sure, Duncan conscripted me, but it's far better than what I had. I went from being alone to having all the friends and brothers and sisters I could ever ask for."

"I was forced to leave behind mine."

"Well, when you're ready, the Wardens can become a second family. Not to replace, mind. Some get touchy when you try to imply that. But, you know… to fill the gap." He smiled lopsidedly. "Wow, where's all this stuff coming from? Normally I'd have tripped over my words by this point! Anyway, I'm going to pick those flowers."

"Yeah, okay…" …Wait, he was going for… "Not that bunch, the one behind them!"

"Oh. Oops." He laughed. "See? Told you I'd trip up. It happens a lot. You get used to it, I promise." He stood up, tucked the flowers carefully into a pack at his belt, turned, and his face completely fell. "…Oh…"

"What wrong?"

"Look there." He pointed to something and I had to step around him see it. When I did, though, I felt myself slump. "The poor sods. That just seems so excessive."

There, in the distance, was a great tree that had fallen years ago, bridging a gap between two large hills here in the forest. It was beautiful, with moss and fungus spiraling all over it, but I couldn't focus on that. Only on the ropes tied to the long dead branches, and the slowly turning bodies that dangled from them. "Is this normal?" I whispered, carefully walking to them. The smell of grime, blood, and urine wafted my way and I fought the urge to gag. "Do they always do this?"

"Duncan says he normally sees things like this when the Archdemon is out and about," Alistair answered as he followed me. "It requires cunning and intelligence, and most darkspawn can't focus long enough for it until a Blight starts."

"…Falon'din, please guide their souls to rest…" It was hard to look at them. Broken bones, missing limbs… they'd been tortured before being hung.

"Layla, can you get them down?" I twisted and saw the others behind me. While Aiden and Nuada looked passive, the other three were… more affected. Daveth had actually ducked behind a bush to be ill. "Layla," Aiden repeated, still just watching. "Can you?"

"I… yes, I believe I can," Layla whispered shakily. Her eyes shimmered with tears and she covered her mouth as if to stop sobs. "If you will give me just one moment, I can come up with a spell."

"Ser Jory, Daveth, if you two could gather some wood for a pyre, it would be appreciated," Nuada ordered the other two. Both were green. "They deserve a sendoff."

"We can also see if there's any sort of identification," Alistair added as the two shem'len ducked off to follow orders. "Who's catching?"

"I was thinking we three, Ser Alistair," Aiden mumbled. "We seem to be the strongest."

"…Did you seriously call me by title? No, no, and no. No title. Yes to catching bodies, though. It's so much fun."

"Very well, ser."

"I have the spell," Layla interrupted. Her hands shook as she held them out. "Are you ready?" The three warriors nodded. "Then, here we go."

Layla's aim was off, so it took quite a few tries to get all three down. But soon they were, and were laid down on a bed of twigs, branches, and logs. "Why do the shem'len burn their dead?" I asked as I set down the last of the rocks around the bed and Alistair went to work to make a spark from flint and tender.

"Andraste died in fire," Aiden explained. All of us were standing a respectful distance away. Though, in my opinion, Daveth and Ser Jory, who were far behind us, were a little too respectful in their distance. "Good idea on the rocks."

"It should help the fire stay in one place."

"Burning corpses has another benefit too, Cleon," Layla informed me. She kept her head down as she leaned into me. "Demons can invade corpses and reanimate them. There are also some spells that allow it. They are mostly blood magic, but I believe there is a Spirit Magic spell that can call a skeleton up. So, burning protects the dead from violation."

"Nevarra has a big problem with those," Nuada added. For once, he wasn't smiling. I was actually pretty grateful for that. "Death is part of their culture. It's this in-depth ritual, with its own section of mages just devoted to it. They have a number of huge and elaborate tombs, most started while they're still alive, and they have entire cities just devoted to the dead."

"Creepy," I mumbled. "Very creepy."

"It's their culture."

We might've said more, but Alistair got the fire going and it felt appropriate to not say anything as the fire devoured the bodies. "I found some things that can be used," Alistair noted once the smoke really got going and we moved away to prevent choking on the ash and scent of burning meat. "So, hopefully, they can be identified."

"We found the ruin," Daveth called. I looked up to see him very far ahead. Creators, would it have killed them to wait? "But you're not going to like this!" Huh?

The reason why was easy to see as soon as we walked into the run down, vine and moss infested building."There's nothing here," Aiden sighed. He knelt down beside a cracked stone chest and absently picked up a piece. "Broken crates, shattered walls… nothing that looks like writing at all."

"So, it was pointless," I sighed, summarizing everything. Everyone's faces fell at the words. Even that damn Nuada's. "Dread Wolf and his tricks..." Ah, it was getting harder to move too. I had to get back to the camp before I collapsed. "So, what do we do n-?" Behind us came a meow. I almost ignored it, until I remembered the strange cat from before. I turned to the sound, only to sense the burn of magic in the air and catch a flash of gold light as it bloomed into life. The so-called cat slowly lengthened and twisted. Paws and claws turned into hands, feet, and nails. Fur melted into skin, jewelry, and clothes. Ears and whiskers flattened into hair and nose. Then, as the light faded and the magic dispersed, the features sharpened into a human woman, the likes of whom I'd never seen before.

"Well, well," the woman purred, studying us with glittering gold eyes as black flames danced at her fingertips. "Whatdo we have here?"


Author's Note: Yes, the Korcari Wilds are split into two parts. This is because while Cleon's POV is fun for the Wilds itself, Layla's POV will be fun for meeting Flemeth for the first time. So, yeah! And yes, I had to end it on that memorable line. I decided to bring in Morrigan's shapeshifting for the encounter. Because shapeshifting is cool. I modeled it after Flemeth's very memorable entrance in DA2. Because like mother, like daughter.

Next Chapter – Have Layla's reaction to Morrigan and Flemeth!