12. You're Always Preparing, Just Go

Medb slid the key into Tasha's hand before shooing the men toward Duncan. She glanced back at the mage to make sure she understood what the key was for. The elf's back was straight, but stiff, and only an observant onlooker would be able to see the whiteness on either side of her lips or the occasional, firmly repressed tremor that jolted up her spine. Tasha frowned, watching her briefly before shaking her head. There were more important tasks at hand than worrying about someone who wasn't immediately in danger of dying.

She handed the flower over to the kennelmaster, who thanked her and asked her to come by after the battle. Her stomach knotted up, but she figured it was because she'd never done anything like that and pushed the feeling aside. The mage felt eyes on her back and turned to see Felina grinning at her with a wave. Tasha lifted a hand in greeting before turning back around.

She knew the chest that Medb had mentioned, had seen it while she was running around looking for the other recruits. The Tranquil no longer stood guard, perhaps believing that no one would attempt to open the chest since people were rushing about or maybe he had been summoned to some other duty. Tasha still wore her robes and with them on, she looked like any other mage present - although someone from the tower would have known instantly that her rank was too low to be allowed to be there. Carefully, she twisted the key, rewarded with a faint click. Most of the items in the chest wouldn't be exceptionally helpful, especially since at that moment she didn't have anywhere to stash them. But tucked away and wrapped in some spare cowls were ten tiny, precious vials of silvery-blue fluid. The faint hum of magic washed over her, setting her senses to tingle and sensitizing her own magic. "Lyrium," she breathed, eyes widening as a jolt of desire washed over her only to be firmly quashed. In the Circle, she'd only been permitted to take lyrium a handful of times, one of which was the Harrowing. But this? She stared at the vials, blinking slowly, before glancing at the mage compound. An internal debate ending in Tasha carefully tucking eight of the vials away into her pouch.

Bright-eyed and trying to hide the giddiness, she made her way back to Duncan's tent, where Alistair had been explaining what had happened. "Did you mention Morrigan and her mother?" she asked absently as she handed her vial over to Duncan, unable to stop the swelling of pride.

"Who?" Duncan asked, swiveling toward the younger Warden.

Before he could answer, Tasha waved her hand impatiently. "She and her mother live out in the Wilds. Pretty sure both of them are apostates." At that, Duncan eyed Alistair sternly; the younger man shuffled uncomfortably with the clink of metal on metal. Tasha went on, ignoring the strange behavior though she made a mental note of it. "Not that it really matters. I'd prefer they didn't get turned into the Templars. But we were told to tell you that this Blight's threat is greater than you realize."

Duncan stared at the mage long enough that she wanted to squirm and probably would have had there not been a pulse of incredibly thick worry through that strange barrier. "Why should I believe her, this woman?"

Medb jumped into the conversation, lifting a shoulder delicately in a half shrug. "I asked her the same thing and she was vague about that as well." Her eyes flicked to Tasha. "But then, she wasn't clear on most of what she said."

"Can we just move on to the Joining? I'm eager to be done with this," Jory interrupted. Medb threw a glare at him, opening her mouth to speak, but when Tasha caught her eye, she shook her head. Daveth's mouth pursed in displeasure, watching the knight.

Duncan studied the recruits for just a moment longer before nodding. "I will not lie. We Wardens pay a heavy price for our abilities. Fate may demand that you pay the price now rather than later."

Tasha mulishly lifted her chin, though there was a brief flicker of excitement and fear in her eyes. "We're ready," Medb said firmly, studiously ignoring Jory.

"Very well, head to the old temple. We'll be there shortly."

"Darkspawn blood? We're going to drink darkspawn blood?" Daveth asked incredulously. Later Tasha would say that she wasn't surprised at all but even she couldn't stop the disbelief and horror she felt, let alone the blasts of emotions from everyone else that threatened to overwhelm the walls she had up. But her mind, clever and swift as it was, began racing, putting the puzzle pieces together. She glanced toward Medb. The elf hadn't moved and her lightly tanned skin had paled, but from the set of her jaw… Tasha's eyes widened as she realized that she wasn't as horrified as the rest of them. There was an understanding deep in the elf's green eyes that baffled her.

"We're subjecting ourselves to the Taint, aren't we?" she asked quietly. It was then that Tasha noticed the increased drain on her mana since they'd returned. Duncan nodded.

Daveth looked ready to bolt, and Jory had panic coursing through him. For her part, Tasha couldn't deny the horror she felt. She looked at Alistair, who was doing his damnedest not to look at her specifically and pieces clicked into place "That's why people aren't allowed to know," she said, eyes narrowing. For once, her voice did not hold the typical sharp ice that they'd all come to associate with her. "That's why you panicked when you thought I knew." Alistair nodded slowly, still not looking at her. Her three fellow recruits turned on her.

"You knew and you didn't tell us?" Jory spat.

Tasha backed away, eyes flashing with uncharacteristic uncertainty. "No," she replied, feeling defensive but still stunned over the information they'd received. "I realized there was a connection between darkspawn and Wardens." Alistair lifted his head at her partial lie and studied her. "Let's just get on with this, please? We can yell at me later."

Alistair, obediently, said the words spoken at the Joining, brow pinched together. Refusing to look at her. Deep in her gut, Tasha knew she would

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

I don't want to die.

First, it was Daveth, and her empathy had her choking on the same tainting thickness, before the other side of her magic welled up protectively. She still felt him die though and it was the oddest thing.

Her horror only increased when Jory, panic shoving aside everything else but fear, drew his blade. Duncan cut him down when he struck out at the Warden. Again, through her shields, she felt the life leave his body. There was a flashing pain and then...nothing.

Medb, looking at the cup with an unreadable expression, murmured something in her language before cradling the cup between her dexterous hands. "I'm dead already." Then she drank deeply, nearly choking on the blood. Tasha, bracing for the same sensation, knew instantly that something was different. As Medb's body slumped to the ground, caught by Alistair, Tasha could have sworn Duncan's shoulders relaxed. So, she'll live, she thought.

Her turn came and she could feel the faint hum of lyrium emanating from the cup as well as a dark sickness which both repelled and called to her. Fear is your enemy. She remembered the Enchanter's words from the tower, what seemed a lifetime ago. Tasha squared her shoulders, grey eyes flashing like steel with a fierce pride and locking with Duncan's. "At least if I die, I'll die a free mage. That's more than anyone can ask for," she said, voice strong without a quaver. For a moment, a brief moment as her magic swelled with her, she felt indomitable. Then she looked to Alistair as Duncan pressed the cup into her hands. The man looked stricken as though genuinely upset by the idea of her death. Her eyes narrowed in vague puzzlement. Just before she brought the cup to her lips, she met Duncan's unreadable gaze. "In death, sacrifice."

Tasha Amell, former mage of the Fereldan Circle of Magi and current Grey Warden tipped the silver cup as though in toast and then took a large gulp.

Agony unlike anything she'd ever known tore through her and her magic, whatever she had left after the Wilds, flared to combat the poison she'd ingested into her body, bolstered by the lyrium. As her consciousness faded, her last thought was At least I'm free.

She thought she dreamt of a great dragon, snarling and roaring to an army deep underground. For a moment, she thought she understood. Then darkness stole her again.

AN: Nice short little chapter. Good stuff. Working on the next chapter. Adios, Daveth. Poor Jory. Well, we're super close to having the last Wardens of Fereldan.