Location: Tevinter Imperium, west trails of The Hundred Pillars.

Time: The Dragon Age 9:38, two months after the events of Those Who Speak (8-9 years after the Fifth Blight)

Companions: Alistair-Sten-Isabela-Varric

Chapter Three

"Should we say something?" Alistair whispered to his companions.

Probably not the best idea at the time, considering the fact that the group continued to slightly shift closer to the trees, weapons at the ready. Truthfully, he was hoping they would just catch some fellow travelers who had no intention to harm them. He had no clue how truly powerful the magisters of Tevinter could be. Of course, they knew of the men and women who staked their claims at elegant balls, but to find a magic wielder who wasn't concerned about "societal standards" worried him.

"Don't mind us, just passing through to go kill a magister that could probably be considered godlike around these parts," Varric muttered.

"That way they'll think we're only slightly insane," Isabela answered softly. "It's the perfect plan."

"The mockery is unnecessary, but thank you," Alistair sighed. "I get the point."

That was when Varric suddenly fired an arrow. A hard thunk broke the silence, followed by a frightened squeak from the trees. Alistair caught figures shifting among the trunks. Sten ran forward without a sound, breaking the treeline. Isabela disappeared in a blur. Varric was already firing another arrow. It seemed the "quiet approach" was no longer a concern …

"What is it?" he demanded.

"Shades," Varric explained quickly. "You don't see them?"

Alistair ran off after Isabela and Sten, with Varric advancing steadily with Bianca. Sten's call of battle seemed to shake the trees before the clang of blade on blade caught his ears. This rang false in his mind as he met the tree line. Shades didn't use weapons. They were demons, manifested from the Fade … why in Thedas would they ever use weaponry? Isabela's shout brought him out of his thoughts, and he sprinted toward the sound.

The Ferelden King was startled to see Isabela battling with a female dwarf. A helmet covered most of her face, but Alistair could see the beginnings of facial tattoos under her chin. She was a Ferelden dwarf. As he ran toward them, a hard mass crashed into his right side, sending him to the ground. The landing knocked his breath from him, but there was no time to gasp. His left arm was searing. Pain racked his thoughts as he instinctually began hitting at the attacker.

Somehow, his eyes came into focus to see the jaws of a huge Mabari hound clamped around his arm. The creature was biting down as hard as it could, cutting into his flesh. Alistair continued cuffing the Mabari hard at the side of its head. He had to try and loosen its grip, or there would be a strong chance it would break his bones. A few seconds of agonizing gnashing of teeth, and Alistair was finally able to shove the hound away from him.

Rushing to stand up, he ignored the shouting nerves of his left arm as he braced himself against it to get to his feet. Blood began to run steadily down into his hand. The sensation gave him shivers, but he was hardly able to react to it before his senses flared to take defense. His longsword barely blocked an attack from his right side. Clang of metal on metal gave him another moment to focus on his newest attacker, though he hardly believed it when he was able to see them.

Well, her. Her being Sophia Cousland-Theirin, his wife, to be more specific. It had been almost two years since he had seen her. The elation to see her again evaporated as her dagger cut from her left hand, aimed directly at his side. Alistair managed to side-step just enough to avoid injury, though the slash tore at his clothes with vicious force.

"Sophie!" he cried, startled at the continuing attack. "Sophia, it's me!"

He brought the flat side of his longsword up to deflect her own blade, but her dagger met its mark, sinking into the flesh of his right hip. His hand then clutched hers as she tried to push the blade in deeper. Sophie was remarkably strong from her years of training, yet somehow he managed to pull her hand away from the hilt. Arm slashed nearly to the bone, dagger blade digging into his hip … it was turning out to be quite the reunion.

Extracting the blade was painful, though successful. Alistair tossed the dagger into the snow away from the two of them as Sophie began to brace for another attack with her longsword. The man brought up his own sword reluctantly. This was the woman he had loved for eight years. Now, she stood before him with unveiled rage in her hazel eyes, glowing red around their irises. Her Beserker, as Oghren called it when he taught her the technique, was now in full-force.

"Sophie, it's me, Alistair," he tried desperately. "Please, love, these are my friends. I swear it on the throne, it's me, dear …"

Sophie's blade slacked slightly at her side. Alistair was about to sigh with relief when the small handful of powder struck his eyes. Instinctually, he brought his hands up to his face to swipe at the irritant, struggling not to be taken in by the effects of his beloved's stunning powder. A firm kick to his already weak right side brought him to his knees. The king of Ferelden dropped heavily, his weight sinking into the snow as he blinked away the last of the powder. He fought to catch his breath before feeling the cold metal of Sophie's longsword meet his throat.

The thin trickle of his own blood contrasted the chilled pressing of the blade, causing a violent shiver to travel down his spine. How could this be happening? Sophie, his wife, his everything, was going to kill him … Why?

Her inhale was sharp. As if in slow-motion, Alistair saw three arrows strike her chestplate, right at her heart. Two were deflected by the strength of her armor, but the third protruded from her chest, as if it were another appendage. Her hands dropped to her side, dragging her longsword lightly across Alistair's throat. He could hardly react to the new cut as Sophie's eyes met his, an innocent horror overtaking her expression as the red faded away.

"A—Alistair?" she whispered before dropping to the ground in front of him.