The Halla Tainted
Chapter 14
"See? My hunch was correct," came Duncan's smug reply from over the shoulder of the kneeling elf. Twisting her head about to glare at the young human, a frown formed darkly upon Adaia's face.
"The only thing this," she gestured to the recently used firepit settled in the very square of the ruins, "proves is that someone had been here recently."
"And who do you think that would be?" the Warden prodded, the grin widening upon his dark features.
Rising, dusting her hands along her knees as she stood to her full height, the elven warrior glared at her companion before turning her attention to the riled ground before her. Without a word, the elf stepped around the site, eyes upon the ground as she followed the disturbed earth toward another crumbling gateless archway. A smirk replaced her frown as she indicated toward the archway.
"Whomever it was," she stated, turning back to her companion, who took in her smirk and gesture, "appears to have gone on into the Wilds."
"Ah, yes, well…" the youth stumbled, glaring at his companion as she chuckled at him.
"Easy, Duncan," Adaia broke into his incoherent stumbling, "as much as I hate to admit it, traipsing about these ruins at least put us directly on the path of whomever we have been trailing these past few days."
Chuckling awkwardly, Duncan replied, "Yes, well…it is about time my genius was recognized."
A blonde brow quirked up. "Genius, indeed," the elven woman muttered as she turned about, leading the way beneath the archway.
"Glad you've admitted it," Duncan continued as he followed the other closely.
"You're pushing it again," Adaia reminded the human, who merely shrugged at her words.
"I do what I can."
"Hmmm…" Adaia hummed as she continued to follow the path laid out before her upon the forest floor.
Flashes of darkness erupted before the Grey Warden's vision, a tingling dancing along his spine and into his skull. Frowning, he took a position over the kneeling elf, whose focus was solely upon the ground, trying to recover the trail they had lost in the tangled undergrowth of the Kocari Wilds.
"Adaia," the young Warden warned, frowning as he pulled free his daggers from their sheaths at his hips. A frown furrowing her brow, the elven warrior glanced up and took note of the now armed Grey Warden. She rose quickly to her feet, fluidily pulling her bow from her shoulder as she quickly notched an arrow, turning a circuit as she reviewed the surrounding forest.
"What is you sense, Duncan?" the elven woman asked, having come to respect the Warden's ability to sense danger.
"Darkspawn," Duncan grated out, darks eyes searching the dancing shadows.
Adaia simply nodded, accepting the answer. Since leaving the ruins of Ostagar, Duncan had admitted to having sensed that darkspawn were in the area. Although the young man did not know why the blighted creatures were so deep in the Wilds, he was pleased that Adaia had taken first his apology for not having warned her sooner so easily and secondly that she had come to value his knowledge and skills with regards to the beasts.
"I should revoke my declaration of you as a genius," she does say with slight smirk. Duncan gasped in a mockery of indignation, but Adaia merely rolled her eyes before continuing to lead the pair forward.
Duncan had sensed them moments before they burst from the very ground and surrounding tangle of ancient trees. A dark tide, seeking to overtake and drown the pair in their depths. Pulling free her daggers, the elven warrior danced about the dark creatures, her blades working in a dazzling whirl delivering death to each darkspawn foe foolish enough to enter within her reach.
Amazed at how quickly the Dalish warrior was able to commit to a battle, Duncan pulled free his sword and dagger, moving on light, sure feet around the darkspawn, slashing from the shadowy depths. Where Adaia preferred to battle her foes head on, Duncan preferred to a much more and secure footing from the shadows, striking out with lightening quick reflexes and darting back to the relative safety of darkness.
Most of their foes – smaller hurlocks and genlocks – lay upon the ground as the pair met up, both covered in blood and panting heavily from their exertions. Four of the genlocks remained, and one of those an archer who stood back from the rest, sighting down Adaia. The warrior scowled, dodging and rolling to the ground, rising quickly as she charged at the archer. With a nod, Duncan turned and quickly dispatched the trio remaining near him. He turned to watch as Adaia cut down the lone archer with skillful blades.
Panting, bending over to rest his hands to knees, the warden rose quickly as another tingle coursed along his spine. Swearing, he straightened, turning toward Adaia just as she shouted out in pain and surprise. Turning quickly, the warden rogue rushed to where the warrior had fallen and lay unconscious, a huge Hurlock standing over her with a greatsword held overhead.
With a shout to distract the great beast, Duncan barreled into the creature, knocking it off its feet and to the ground, the greatsword – an old, rusted and corrupted blade – clattered to the ground as Duncan rose, straddling the creature, to sweep his silverite dagger across its throat. Gurgling, it thrashed, unseating the young man. Rolling gracefully to his feet, Duncan dropped his dagger, taking his sword in two hands as he drove it deep into the thrashing creature's chest, piercing through its corrupted, black heart and ending its struggles.
Panting, yet wasting no time, Duncan rushed to where Adaia still lay.
Gingerly he rolled her over, noting that when she had fallen she had struck her head upon a rock. Blood oozed thickly from the wound, and he delicately pressed around the injury, satisfied her skull had not been cracked. He then searched her for other wounds, stopping short as he encountered a great slash, bleeding slowly, along her side. His breathing all but stopped as he read within the blood the growing of the taint.
"No, no, no," he muttered, pressing his hands to the wound. "You are not allowed to die on me, Adaia," he adjusted her slightly. "Your family needs you to return to them."
Panicked, he reached into a satchel and pulled free some clean bandaging, and pressed that to the wound. With his movements, the cylinder he wore around his neck bumped his chest, and he paused, reaching for it and pulling it up to stare at it.
"Well, well, well," came a rough, sultry voice from the side, "what have we here?"
Startled at the voice, Duncan rises slightly to his haunches, staring at the elderly woman who emerges from the forest. He is surprised as he notes that there, just a few hundred feet from where they were, stood an old hut. He frowns slightly, certain that it had not been there.
"Who…"
"Who am I?" the woman chuckles as she stops, crossing her arms to her chest as she raises one hand to her chin. "I have many names, young Warden."
Duncan notices that the woman's eyes are yellow, predator-like, and hard. They go to where Adaia is laying, and her features soften slightly as she steps closer. It is then that Duncan also takes note of the wisdom that seems to be contained within those strange eyes.
"One of the People, I see," she murmurs as she kneels beside Adaia, placing a hand to the woman's injury, a frown crossing her features. "I see that you are aware she had become tainted by those darkspawn, yes?"
"Can you help her?" Duncan finds himself, inexpiably asking this strange woman, who raises her eyes to scan his face.
"The only way I know of to help her, is for her to become a Grey Warden."
The statement is simple, and so echos Duncan's own thoughts mere moments ago. He clutches at the cylinder in his hand. Taking a breath, he asks, "I don't suppose you know any magic?"
Startled by his question, the woman asks one of her own, "Do you know who I am, boy?"
Hands shaking, he nods, "I'm going to guess your Flemeth."
Chuckling without humor, the old woman nods. "To your friend, however, I would be known as Ashabellanar." She looks once more at Adaia. "I suppose I have the pair of you to thank, then, for my most recent…acquisition."
Frowning in confusion, Duncan straightens further. "Us…to thank…"
"Hmmm…had the pair of you not been pursuing your quarry so intently, he may well have been able to ignore the lure within the prize he carried. Alas, for him, he was so focused on escaping you – the Grey Wardens – that he easily fell to its allure." Flemeth touches the chain at her throat, but does not reveal the amulet hanging from it.
"Ah, well, then," Duncan stumbles, "You can thank us by saving Adaia's life then."
Shrewd eyes narrow, and she rises to her feet. Duncan watches her rise, but remains at Adaia's side, one hand reaching over to grasp one cooling hand. "Please," he says, glancing down at his friend.
"She means that much to you?"
Nodding, Duncan looked down at the elf. "She has been a friend. I…" he stumbles slightly, "I took her from her family, her kith and home, asking her to accompany me on this fool mission. One that had failed before it even started, apparently." He chuckles self-deprecatingly at himself before shaking his head. "To have her die – here, under these circumstances, for nothing….seems like such a waste and ill payback for all of her help…"
Flemeth nodded at the youth, eyes once more fixed upon the elf. A frown formed on her lined face and she reached up to brush a stray lock of graying hair from her eyes. "What if I were to tell you to let her die?" She looks at the astonished features of the Warden, and continues, "What if I were to tell you that, ultimately, her family – loved ones for whom you wish her returned to – would benefit from her not being there? That perhaps old promises may well be remembered at the loss of one so important to so many? That the life of one she holds dearest of all would be far easier, less complicated and dangerous than should she survive?"
Taking a panting breath, Duncan rises, trying to control his anger. "How can you say that? Adaia is a hero! She loves her family! The elves in the alienage mean everything to her!"
"I know," Flemeth's voice is soft, and she nods in agreement. "Adaia Mahariel Tabris is, indeed a hero. Selfless and head strong…a dangerous combination. And while I would mourn the death of one such as she, I merely ask if you could consider it?"
"Never," Duncan responds without pause. "I cannot believe that anyone would be better off without Adaia Tabris. Most especially her family."
A soft smile softens Flemeth's face, and she nods as the smile reaches her eyes. "I suppose it depends on which side of the fence you view that from, yes?" She steps close again, and reaches over to grasp the chain the cylinder filled with archdemon blood and pulls it free from Duncan's neck. He gasps slightly. "Gather some darkspawn blood, like a good lad." She gestures toward where the many bodies lay. "and bring Adaia to my cabin. I will begin preparing the Joining."
Duncan pauses, his mind set to ask how the witch knew of the Joining, but decided against it. She was Flemeth, after all. Ancient, frightful…the stuff of legends. And, even if she were an imposter, she needed to be powerful enough to carry that deception forward. With a nod, he sets about his appointed tasks.