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Chapter 4: The Dark Ritual

Duran spotted Alistair up ahead, pacing back and forth outside what he could only presume to be Riordan's chambers. Alistair looked agitated and perhaps even impatient. Duran didn't blame him. Things looked grim.

No sooner had they arrived in Redcliffe that they witnessed the darkspawn looting and pillaging their way through the village. It was a chaotic image. There were many corpses strewn about and the village that had only months before began its recovery suffered such damage as to render any progress made since then moot.

They had not killed everyone, for a group of escaping villagers had sought Duran's aid. The main army, according to the reports, was engaging a body of darkspawn remnants in the nearby hinterlands. A contingent of soldiers remained at Redcliffe castle to guard Arl Eamon and the Queen. Despite the heroic clash that was apparently taking place on the field of battle, numerous darkspawn had escaped past the lines and caused havoc in the village itself.

Duran and his companions had easily dispelled them. The village had suffered enough damage for a lifetime and its state greatly aggreived Alistair. He had shown more emotion than usual when they approached the castle and found a party of darkspawn engaged with the guard.

Although it was easy to fear the worst, Duran had immediately recognised the castle itself had not been breached. The guards had barricaded the doors and sought to eliminate the darkspawn within the courtyard. It was only natural that Duran and his party would assist. And assist they did, for what else does a Grey Warden exist for but for the destruction and defeat of any darkspawn who they might encounter.

But it wasn't those events, grievous as they were, that had shaken Alistair. Rather, it was the report from Riordan that each of them had been deceived which truly spooked Alistair.

Riordan had announced, in a most serious of tones, that the main darkspawn horde were in fact heading towards the capital! That the force gathered nearby was nothing but a diversion intended to distract them.

It was well that Anora had questioned his certainty, for Duran too had wondered such a thing. Riordan was adamant with a certainty only long years in service to the Wardens could provide. He had heard it from the enemy himself. The darkspawn were marching on Denerim and were at least two days ahead of them.

But to make things worse Riordan had also confirmed the unspoken fear amongst them all. The Archdemon had made its appearance and was riding at the head of this army!

Arl Eamon had reacted quickly to the initial report. A message had been sent to Denerim and would, it was hoped, arrive before the horde did. The city could then carry out the necessary preparations to withstand the attack.

Only it was likely this wouldn't be enough. The main army had marched to Redcliffe and consequently Denerim was vulnerable. The best hope for their salvation remained assembled in Redcliffe, at least two days behind the horde if Riordan's report was accurate.

Anora had not hesitated. She ordered the army to march out as soon as they were able. Unfortunately, as soon as they were able meant tomorrow morning.

The waiting was agonising. For those who had family back in Denerim the delay was particularly painful. Duran had spoken to a member of the royal guard whose wife and son were trapped in the siege. Although privately Duran thought it likely they were dead, he had assured the man there was still hope. Long years of experience leading troops in the deep roads had taught Duran that men with no hope were poor soldiers. Better to be firm with faith, however fleeting or minuscule, than brittle with doubt and sadness.

Duran had hoped to speak to Anora privately, but there had been no time. Riordan had insisted that he and Alistair see him as soon as possible. It was not a trivial request, given as it was from one of only three Grey Wardens in the country. It was also desirable to find out more about the Archdemon, and how they would defeat it.

Alistair saw him approach and flourished his arm towards the door. 'There you are.' He said. 'Lets go see what Riordan has to say.'

They entered the room to find Riordan awaiting them expectantly. It was possible he heard them approach, but Duran doubted it. Perhaps the ability to sense the taint was refined with age, to such a degree you could sense another Warden approach.

Regardless of his abilities his tone was deadly serious and he stared at them carefully. 'I need to talk to you about what is involved in destroying the Archdemon.'

He ran his fingers through his hair before continuing, 'You are both new to the Grey Wardens and may not be aware. I need to know how much you know.'

Alistair was puzzled, for he asked 'You mean there's more to it than simply chopping off its head?'

'So Duncan never told you?' Although it was phrased in a question Riordan already knew the answer. His demeanour betrayed a considerable reluctance, and it was only due to the importance of the matter that he persisted. 'I had assumed you knew. Tell me, have you ever wondered why the Grey Wardens are needed to defeat darkspawn?'

Duran had often wondered such a thing. The curious ability to sense darkspawn was no doubt a factor but Duran had privately speculated on other, unknown, reasons. 'I assume it has something to do with the taint in us?'

'That is it exactly!' Pronounced Riordan. He began pacing about the room, dutiful but with some level of regret. 'The Archdemon can be slain - but if anyone other then a Grey Warden slays it the demon passes along to another creature and it is all but immortal. But if a Grey Warden was there the taint shall pass to them instead.'

'And... What happens to the Grey Warden?' Asked Duran who, in truth, worried what the answer would be.

'The darkspawn is an empty soulless vessel. A Grey Warden is not.'

Alistair, by now having guessed the outcome, speculated. 'Meaning the Grey Warden who kills the Archdemon dies?'

Riordan did not shy away from it. 'Yes. Without the Archdemon, the blight ends. It is the only way.

Duran felt a level of despondency he had long forgotten since the first days of his exile. The Wardens paid a heavy price indeed for their gifts. He found himself, not for the first time, wishing he had never been recruited. But that was unfair. He was lucky to have been found by Duncan in the deep roads and he knew it.

'Is there no other way? Must a Grey Warden die?' He ventured, hoping for an answer he somehow knew would not be forthcoming.

'As far as we know the transfer of the Archdemon's essence is automatic. If one of us is not present when the killing blow is made it is all for nothing. There is no other way. For what it's worth I'm sorry.' He was sincere. It was a burden that all Wardens bore, and it was perhaps felt heaviest by the Senior Wardens, all of who had carried it most of their lives.

It was a sense of irony that this should come to pass. Duran had only recently maneuvered himself into a most profitable position as Ferelden's future King. This threatened to ruin his plans. He didn't like it. Not one little bit.

He had no intention of needlessly sacrificing himself. There were others who could and should make this sacrifice. Riordan for one, and even Alistair if it came down to it. If it eventuated that it were absolutely necessary, and all other options had been exhausted, then Duran would do his duty. He had, after all, been raised in the finest traditions of Orzammar and he would not shirk from his responsibilities. He was a Warden now and it was time to put regrets past him. But the bitterness of accepting such an outcome was still difficult to swallow. 'So it's up to one of us to kill this thing?' He asked.

'In blights past when the time came the eldest of the Grey Wardens would decide which among them would take the final blow. If possible the final blow should be mine to make. I am the eldest and the taint will not spare me much longer. But if I fail the deed falls on you. The blight must be stopped now or it will destroy all of Ferelden before the rest of the Grey Wardens can assemble. Remember that.'

Duran felt better. At least there was tacit admission that it was Riordan's place to take the final blow. Indeed, by his own admission Riordan had indicated his life was nearing its completion. It was therefore quite proper that he should make the sacrifice.

That, however, presupposed that Riordan still lived to make the blow. As Duran well knew, in battle all the best laid plans could come unhinged in a single stroke of misfortune. He was losing control of events and that felt unnatural. There was nothing he could do, yet his mind raged against it liked a caged madman.

Riordan interrupted his thoughts to dismiss the gathering. 'But enough. There will be much to do tomorrow and we will need enough time to rest before it. I will let you return to your rooms.'

Alistair appeared eager to escape, for he bustled by Riordan in haste pausing only to say goodbye. 'I will see you once the army is ready to march then. I guess this ends soon, one way or another.'

'That it does my friend, that it does.'

Duran had left the room shortly after. He was still recovering from the revelation. Although he knew he should probably talk to Alistair about what had transpired he did not seek him out. Nor did he try to find Anora to make last minute arrangements. He quite simply couldn't be bothered. He needed time to think, to work out what he was going to do.

It was late and Duran stumbled into his bedchambers, having every intention of simply collapsing before the fireplace and resting. It was therefore of considerable surprise that he found Morrigan there, waiting for him.

Her back was turned to him but she sensed his arrival and greeted him without turning. 'Do not be scared , it is only I.'

Morrigan was no stranger to Duran's bed. The two had, in times past, shared each others company through the night. But all that had ended with his impending marriage to Anora. Besides, there had been little emotional connection in the enterprise. There was mutual attraction and a level of respect between the two, but any feelings of love or affection simply were not there. At least that was the case with Duran. Morrigan had said the same too, but maybe she wasn't honest with her feelings. Perhaps she did want something more after all, for Duran could hardly account for her strange visit.

His tone was sarcastic, 'Don't you have your own bedroom?'

She turned to face him, her demeanour bearing no sarcasm or amusement. 'I decided that it was time we spoke. I have a plan you see. A way out, the loop in your hole. I know what happens when the Archdemon dies. I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed and that sacrifice could be you. I have come to tell you that this does not need to be.'

Duran didn't know how to react. How did Morrigan know of this? Were the secrets of the Wardens that well known? Or had she been eavesdropping? Duran pondered this further when he remembered again what she said. There was a thread there, and he grasped it firmly and took hold. 'Does not need to be? What do you mean?'

'I offer a way out. A way out for all the Grey Wardens that there need be no sacrifice. A ritual, performed on the eve of battle in the dark of night.'

Duran couldn't control his impatience. His excitement was palpable. 'A way out? Tell me more.'

Morrigan continued, pacing about the room and coming to sit on the edge of his bed. 'What I propose is this. Lay with me, here tonight, and from our joining a child will be conceived. The child will bear the taint and when the Archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon. At this early stage the child can absorb that easence, and not perish. The Archdemon is still destroyed with no Grey Warden dieing in the process.'

Duran considered her request. He wasn't sure what to think about the concept of fathering a child for the sole purpose of absorbing a taint. But more important then that was why the offer was even being made. 'I see. And what's in it for you?'

Morrigan answered his question frankly and with no reserve. 'In return I conceive a child. One who will be born with the soul of an old God. After this is done, you allow me to walk away and you do not follow. Ever. The child will be mine to raise as I wish.'

So the child would not die. That was interesting. But still there were risks. Although Duran did not doubt Morrigan's abilities as a Mage, he was sceptical that one lone Mage had discovered a solution to a problem unknown to the Wardens for centuries.

'How do you even know this will work?' He asked.

Morrigan remained seated. 'This is what my mother intended when she sent me with you. She was the one who first gave me the ritual and told me what it was I was meant to do. This does not surprise you does it? Did you not wonder why Flemeth saved your life, why she aided you? This is why. What is important is that I am offering this to you now. It will work and it will save your life.'

Duran considered her response. It was a way out for him. What harm could there be in having a backup plan. It was likely that Riordan would die anyway, but if he didn't there was no reason why Duran or Alistair should. There was only one further aspect he had questions on. 'Wait. I want to know more about this child.'

Morrigan did not seem eager, or happy, to broach this subject in particular detail. 'As you wish...'

'Will the child be evil? What will it become?'

Morrigan seemed to have rehearsed her response. Not surprising in the least, given it was a reasonable question to ask. Even for one as opportunistic as Duran, the idea of unleashing a new Archdemon was abhorrent. 'Allow me to say that I seek the essence of the old God that once was and not what the dark forces corrupted. Some things are worth preserving in this world. Make of that what you will.'

Duran cocked his head and folded his arms. 'What do you intend to do with this child?'

'I do not wish to tell you.'

Duran furrowed his brows. He was not used to Morrigan evading his questions. It was unsettling, and unacceptable. 'I insist. I need to know what you plan.'

She sighed, whether in resignation or frustration Duran could not tell. 'The child will represent freedom for an ancient power. A chance to be reborn without the taint. Is that not reason enough to do it?'

Duran's lack of reaction unnerved her, for she inhaled deeply before continuing. 'I will raise the child apart from the rest of society and teach it to respect that from which it came. That is that and you need not know nothing else.'

'I see.' Came the immediate response. Duran weighed up the options. It was not without its risks to be sure. There was no absolute guarantee that it would work, other then the assurances from the less then trustworthy witch Flemeth. Even if it did work though, the inherent danger posed by a potentially reborn Old God could be quite considerable.

On the other hand that was what happened now. The Archdemon was invariably reborn with the taint and each occurence signalled a new plunge into a blight. Every rebirth cycle was already terribly destructive for Thedas and an Old God entity not burdened and shackled to the darkspawn could hardly be worse than the status quo. Besides, it was more than likely that Riordan would strike the killing blow far from Morrigan anyway.

With those considerations having been weighed Duran seized the best option available to him. 'All right. I agree, I'll do it.'

Morrigan smiled, the triumph was clear in her voice. 'A wise decision.' She brushed the side of the bed in a provocative manner, 'Come to me then, we shall make this last night together something to remember.'

Duran smiled. He had not kept Morrigan in his confidence about his plans, and thus when it came about he was to marry Anora she was surprised. Certainly she was impressed he had pulled it off, for she was not ignorant of the realities of political alliances, but she was surprised none the less. Their last time together had been enjoyable as it always was, but far too routine. He would miss her company. One last chance to enjoy himself with her would be most desirable.

Duran approached her but remembered something crucial. A level of panic rose in his voice. 'Did anyone see you?'

Morrigan's seductive regard morphed into an amused smirk. 'Do not worry. There is no need to panic. Not one spied my coming here and I do not think your precious Queen would present to you in secret during the night.'

Duran was frightened by the thought. But she was right, there was no way that was going to happen!