The Fade
Assan opened his eyes.
The sky was full of gray-green clouds and he couldn't tell where the sun was. Light seemed to emanate from the sky as a whole, a sheet of hammered steel arcing over him.
His back ached, as though he'd worn a pack all day or been struck by a staff. He sat up and looked around. He was lying on perfectly flat dirt, unnaturally flat. As he began to get his bearings he grew suspicious of his circumstances.
"Hello?" He called.
There was nothing for a very long time, no echo, no movement, simply the flat earth and the steel sky. Eventually he realized that he was surrounded by thin gray mist. It was slowly thickening. As he waited, impassive and calm, it became a true fog.
He saw something moving in the fog. As he waited he didn't feel tired, or hungry, he wasn't thirsty and his arms had no trouble holding his weight up without trembling or aching at the timeless exertion.
Finally the figure emerged from the fog. A male elf, bald headed, wearing a mage's clothing and bearing a staff. His features were angular, a narrow cleft chin accented by his ears, lean clean limbs, he moved with strength and grace. As he drew nearer Assan noted a tiny scar on the man's forehead.
"Hello?" Assan said as though uncertain of the word.
The man replied but in beautiful fluid Elvehn not the broken surviving remnants hoarded by the Dalish. Assan was surprised to find he understood it perfectly. True Elvhen had been lost when the Imperium overthrew the elves and shackled his ancestors.
"Welcome little fighter." The man said and sat cross legged across from Assan. He balanced his staff on his knees and regarded Assan calmly.
Assan shifted until he too sat cross legged facing the man.
"Who are you?" He asked his visitor.
"A friend, for now." The man's eyes shifted from gray to blue to lavender and back. Flickering and shifting as though obeying an unknown current flowing through this world.
"What is this place?" Assan demanded.
"The Fade." The man said calmly.
"I am dead then."
"Yes."
"Why am I here?"
"This is where you come after death." His tone was amused, matter of fact.
He regarded the stranger for a few seconds. Assan was not frightened or upset at his death, all things died after all and what was done was done.
"You're my friend?"
"For the moment."
He thought of what he should say, he sensed the stranger was waiting for him to say or do the right thing before...what?
"What is your name?" He asked.
The stranger smiled and Assan understood that death did not mean the end of fear.