CHAPTER 3: Not All Like That
"So… you're from Denerim?"
Kallian didn't reply immediately, dragging the whetstone along the edge of her blade slowly. The shem sat there awkwardly next to her, waiting.
"Why don't you just say the Alienage?"
Alistair cleared his throat. "Hmm, last I heard it was part of Denerim… unless they moved it recently."
The elf stopped the sharpening and paused, staring at the ground. "It's not a part of that city- it never will be," she said flatly and returned to the task.
"Oh, erm… sorry then," the other Warden apologized. There was a long period of silence as he cast about for ideas. "Ooh," he said enthusiastically, pointing to her necklace. "That looks interesting- is it elvish?"
Kallian hissed in irritation and tucked it beneath her chainmail. It was the badge apprentices earned when becoming qualified smiths. After Nelaros died, she had taken it to honour his memory.
"Oh, I get it," he said with a grin. "That's from your sweetheart, isn't it?"
Maker's breath…
"Don't be shy," he teased, ruffling her hair. Kallian glared at him in disgust. "Nothing to be embarrassed about."
The elf smacked his hand away and stood up to sharpen her sword elsewhere. At this rate, she would never have a moment's peace and quiet. Kallian stalked off to a spot near the fire and sat down. If he hadn't been a Warden, she would have shown him what she did with shems- pulverize them. But she couldn't.
Ostagar was full of these humans- ones that were supposedly here for a noble cause: the Blight. To her they were all the same. All filthy murderers and oppressors.
Kallian's movements with the whetstone grew more vicious at the thought of what happened at home. The harsh sound gave her an odd feeling of comfort. Maybe a sense of normality in the hollow silence of her despair.
It had been a week since everything fell apart. Even now, with her eyes closed, the hard white faces of shems were burned into the slate of her mind. As if they were performing a routine task... another body, another dispensable life.
She remembered Shianni's broken form on the ground, sobbing and shaking.
It should have been me. It should have been me…
For all her protests and bold talk, Kallian knew her cousin. Under the feistiness, Shianni was fragile and meek. And now it would be years… maybe never until her cousin fully recovered.
Kallian grimaced as her long hair caught suddenly on her armour. It was getting in the way of everything and wasn't practical in her situation. She gripped a lock of dark hair and eyed it with loathing. All her life, she had never cut it. Long hair in the Alienage was prized and highly approved of. And now… she would be free of it.
Taking Fang in her hand, she cut the chunks off without hesitation. And when she finally finished, she felt an inexplicable weightlessness. Not only physical, but a freedom in her mind.
Marriage, expectations, standards… she had spent her whole life chained to these. No more.
For the first time since leaving her home, she smiled.
Alistair looked over at her, eyes widening when he saw what she had done. She ignored him and took up her sword again, imagining the shems she killed over and over again in her mind.
Kallian hated them. She hated them for their actions and what they stood for. She hated Duncan, despite the fact he saved her life. It would have been better for him to have let her die.
And yet… yet she remembered her mother's words. They were distant in her mind, shoved aside by thoughts of revenge. But she heard them now, along with the clatter of her mother's dagger.
Adaia was silent as she picked up her weapon again. She placed it on the table and adjusted her gloves. Kallian stood panting, uncertain what her mother's response would be. The elf woman was always cool and focussed, never giving anything away. It was the first time her daughter had disarmed her.
After looking Kallian up and down, she tutted. She straightened out the younger elf's shoulders and slapped a hand on the sternum.
"Posture, Kallian. Posture. Balance is crucial in combat. Your enemy can be fierce, they can be quick. But even the simplest trick can have them at your mercy."
Kallian nodded. "I know, mother. You've told me before."
"But you keep forgetting," said Adaia, shaking her head. Her dark eyes softened, and the shadows on her face emphasized a weariness she rarely showed. "You have come far, emm'asha. With more training, you will be one even the humans cannot ignore."
Kallian blinked, unaccustomed to such a compliment. She grinned, the childish part of her surfacing. "Ma serannas, mamae. I'll beat the shit out of the shems."
The older elf sucked in her breath in disapproval. "Language! How many times must I tell you?"
Kallian bit down on a smile. "Sorry…"
Adaia held a hand to her temple, shaking her head. "I thought I taught you the basics of common courtesy. Being a city elf doesn't excuse you from dishonouring your forefathers." She put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "You are of the Elvhen. A people of history and nobility. Never forget that."
Kallian sheathed her own dagger and nodded. "I will never forget. Even if the shems hold a blade to my throat."
At this, the elf-woman regarded her seriously. "Do not hold the humans in such low esteem. Your enemies are those who would destroy those you love. Be it human, elf, dwarf or even the Qun, those who would stand by your side are your true brethren."
Kallian's eyes darkened. "You saw what they did."
There was a flicker of something in Adaia's own dark eyes. "Yes… I did. But I will not have you use the word shem. They are humans."
Kallian shook her head incredulously. "How can you still defend them? They beat and tortured Nehari because she stole bread from them. Bread!"
Her mother's gaze hardened. "There is nothing that excuses them from what they have done. But in every race, there will be filth, those who don't care, and those… who are noble. In heart and in deed."
Young Kallian made a noise of disbelief. "If there is such a sh-I mean human, I've never met one."
Adaia smiled slightly at this. "I have."
"You have?" Kallian asked, cocking her head dubiously.
"Once… Someone who knew what was right. Someone who valued life and protected it."
Kallian remained silent, still not convinced.
"She was a light in the dark," said the elf woman, turning to pack the equipment away. ..
A sudden pressure on her shoulder made her flick the blade at a face in the darkness.
It was Duncan.
Kallian lowered her weapon but she watched him guardedly as he sat.
"How are you faring, dear girl?"
The elf stopped a harsh laugh from escaping her. "Well enough," she said instead.
Duncan regarded her carefully, then turned his eyes on the pillars surrounding them.
"This has been a hard journey to take," he started again. "And you have left all you have ever known to be something your mother refused. I understand."
Kallian's throat constricted. "My mother?" she asked, voice coming out rough.
"You did not know?" he said, turning to her again. He might have blinked, but it was too dark to tell.
The elf stayed silent, wanting nothing more than to end the conversation.
Duncan didn't seem to notice- he continued. "I tried to recruit your mother, once. She was a fiery woman. She would have made an excellent Grey Warden."
Kallian's brows and mouth lowered in a frown, firm and stiff.
"Valendrian convinced me it was better for her to remain at the Alienage with her family. As there was no Blight, and thus no immediate need for recruits… I deferred to his wishes."
The new Grey Warden glared into the glowing embers of the fire, wrestling with herself. A part of her was infuriated that a human would know so much about her- it gave him a power over her that she resented.
"I did wonder how you knew Valendrian."
Duncan chuckled softly. "We have known each other for almost twenty years… since the time I recruited your mother, in fact."
The elf didn't reply, breathing heavily.
"I'm sorry," said the older Warden. "Have I upset you?"
Kallian tried to push past the huge mass on her vocal cords. "Forgive me. I'm poor company today… I don't wish to talk."
If Duncan was perturbed by the harsh quality of her voice or the bitterness in it, he didn't show it.
"I am sorry to hear that. Then I will disturb you no further." There was a clank and a shuffle. "In the meantime, I suggest you rest and gather your energy before the battle. You will need it."
Something warm and round was pressed into her hands. Duncan stood up and moved away.
Kallian smelled it before seeing it: porridge.
Moisture burned in her eyes as she remembered Soris' face as they led him away. In the cold depths of the dungeons, he would never receive such a simple meal. No fresh bread or hot soup, no clean water or ale. She would never drink with him at the tavern again. There was a chance she wouldn't see any of her family ever again.
Silent tears ran down her face as she took the first bite, imagining Soris shivering in the darkness, hungry and cold. Her body shook as she swallowed, sobbing.
Back at the Alienage… it wasn't always easy. It wasn't a comfortable life. But she had family, and she had Valendrian who was like an uncle to her. They made living in that ridiculous excuse of a settlement worth it.
And now, everything was gone.
Everything was gone.
Kallian took a few more bites and finished half of it before surrendering to her emotions. She sat there on the dirt, crying in the darkness. She knew her companions could hear it but didn't care. She just didn't.
And after a while, her sobs died down and she lay on her bedroll, succumbing to sleep. At the very least… in her wandering mind, she would find reprieve from the nightmares of reality.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Kallian sprang into action and swung her sword wildly, fear gripping her again. All around her, genlocks and Hurlocks gnashed their sharp teeth. They were everywhere- left, right, front, the stairs…
Fire rose up in walls around her but the more intelligent of them backed away. As soon as the flames died down, the monsters lunged again. They pulled at her from all directions, managing to open up gashes under her arm and shoulder guards. Kallian hissed at the burning pain, doubling over.
"Argh!"
"Kallian!"
With difficulty, she pushed past the pain and swung her sword in a wide arc. Blood sprayed her face and armour. And with each swing, Kallian saw the faces of Shianni and Soris. Nelaros and Nola, Lenara and Delle. The elf laughed manically, imagining Vaughan's head rolling to the ground as she beheaded a nearby Hurlock. And the genlock- the captain of the guards. That one- the one with the moustache.
"Die!" she screamed, ignoring the blood streaming from her wounds.
Finally, a monster batted her sword aside and it clattered to the ground. With that blow, Kallian's strength gave out. She was shoved to the floor and gasped as the pile of bodies smothered her. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move. A sword tip rushed toward her face.
She closed her eyes tightly.
The weight lifted off her and she opened her eyes. It was all a blur, and she thought she saw walking torches. But then her eyes adjusted and realized they were burning Darkspawn. Strong arms heaved her up and Alistair's sword sliced the guts of two genlock in front of her. The soldier charged at the remaining three creatures, letting out a war cry. One of them pierced him under his armour and he grunted but stabbed it back.
Kallian leaned weakly on the other Warden, still not attune with reality.
Her eyes shifted slowly to the blade on the ground. She moved to fetch it.
"Are you alright?" asked Alistair, fighting off the last genlock.
Kallian didn't reply, but bent down for her weapon. Gritting her teeth, she sprinted at the Hurlock cornering the soldier. With a leap, she delivered a shattering blow to its skull. The skull cracked and blood ran like a river as it crashed to the ground.
The four stood there panting.
"Maker…" breathed the mage.
Kallian swallowed, trying to eliminate the swelling in her throat. She looked down at her hands and saw them trembling.
I nearly died. I nearly died.
The elf lifted her gaze to the shems around her. Her eyes settled on Alistair and she sucked in her breath- in the flickering torchlight, his face reminded her painfully of Soris.
Alistair was the first to recover. His usually mild face was grim as he approached her.
"Are you hurt?"
Kallian shook her head slowly, still feeling numb.
The mage pulled out a poultice and salve from his pack and helped the soldier apply it to his wounds.
Alistair frowned when he saw the blood dripping from her armour.
"You are. Here, look. You're bleeding," he said, tutting. The mage turned around and handed them some of the ointment.
Kallian took it and watched the other Warden with a guarded expression. Alistair didn't wait for her consent before spreading the substance on her wounds. The elf hissed in pain, twitching at the contact. God, she had never had so many wounds before.
When he finished, the elf eyed him wearily. "Thank you," she said quietly. The words weren't as difficult to say as she thought. Alistair gave her a quick smile.
"No need to thank me. Grey Wardens look out for each other, right?"
She hesitated. "Right," she answered reluctantly and then shook herself. "Come on," she said to the others.
They followed her up silently.
Kallian paused in front of the door, hesitating. After that fight, everything felt so real again. She could die… she could really die.
And then what?
She tried not to think about it, because the only thing that came to mind was darkness.
Kallian pushed the door open and they were met with a welcoming roar.
The deafening sound stirred up fear. They were there, right where the beacon was. But they were also several steps from a huge, drooling ogre.
So close… yet so far away.
"What in Andraste's name…?" said the mage.
The monster turned its pupil-less eyes on them, blasting them with another roar. Kallian shielded her face as blood and chunks of flesh flew at them.
"Go!" she shouted to the soldier and Alistair. "Flank it, attack from behind!"
Without further thought, the three fanned out and lunged at it from both sides. The mage did his best to distract and hamper it, pelting it with arcane bolts and bursts of flame that barely penetrated its strong hide.
Kallian realized that it was going to take some time to bring it down. The ogre's brutish arms were like huge logs that swept them aside and created mini quakes when pummelling the ground. No matter how many gashes they made in its hide, the creature still had massive strength.
Strength…
Yes, it was wearing down, but not enough for them to win this fight. They couldn't keep this up, dancing around its sweeping arms and rock-like fists. No, they had to go for the source. Kallian's mind was made up when the ogre elbowed Alistair in the chest. The Warden went flying through the air and landed hard on his back, groaning.
"Flaming swords!" she yelled at the circle mage.
She didn't wait for a reply as she whirled on the soldier. "Distract it! Wave your sword around, whatever it takes!"
The soldier nodded and threw an arrow at the ogre, shouting at it to bring its attention away from Kallian. She ran to place herself behind it and felt a growing heat in the grip of her sword. Kallian dropped her shield as she jumped on the ogre's back with her sword held high. She came down with a war cry, burying the blade deep in its flesh, just two fingerbreadths right of its spine. Her weight had the intended effect, as the sword sliced its way down further. The track of burning flesh and the collapse of the ogre were the confirmations that she needed.
It gave a shudder and crashed forward. Dead.
Still on its back, Kallian yanked out her sword and sheathed it, breathing heavily.
"Sorry I wasn't there to help out," said Alistair with a groan. Kallian walked to him and helped him up.
"I was a bit winded and… ow, I think I might have broken some ribs."
Kallian smirked. "I wouldn't be surprised."
"That ogre's arms were the size of tree trunks!" the soldier said, shaking his head.
"Well I'm glad it's over," sighed Alistair. He gestured to the beacon. "We should light that quickly."
The circle mage nodded and strode over to it. "It will be my pleasure." He held his staff over the logs and bursts of fire issued forth.
Ria released the breath she was holding. "Then it's done."
"It's up to the Maker now," said the soldier.
Alistair nodded. "We should go b-"
He never finished his sentence. A whump sounded as she stared in horror at the arrow poking out from the mage's neck. The soldier similarly crumpled to the ground and a searing pain shot through her own shoulder.
Night swallowed up the world as she lost consciousness.