Chapter 2
When I open my eyes again it is dark and I am covered in fur blankets. The pain in my side has lulled to a dull throbbing and the blood sticking to my skin seemed to have been wiped clean. I can hear the crackling sound of a burning fire and a wonderful smell of rabbit and potato stew hangs in the air. Had I believed in the Maker, I would have thought myself to have crossed the Fade, but this is not so and I move my arms in an attempt to feel at the bandage strapped across my stomach and side. I am hungry, and my need for food and drink almost outweighs my need for finding out exactly where I am. I try to sit up but a sharp pain pushes me back and I fall back against the make-shift pillow.
"You will want to take it slow, my friend."
A man appears in my view. He seems familiar and speaks to me as if he, too, has met me before. His Qunlat is hesitant and, after spending so much time away from my people, almost strange to my ear. He wears the robes of the Circle; similar to that of the other mage, Wynn, but the embroidery along the hem suggests a higher rank. His beard is thick but trimmed neatly, and he seems out of place in the dark, dank cave I seem to find myself in. The man has a bowl in his hand, which seemed to be the source of the fragrant aroma. He notices me staring at it.
"Do you feel strong enough to eat by yourself?"
I nod my head, and he hands me the bowl. I try to take it in a controlled manner, careful not to gulp its contents down like a dwarf in a tavern on a hot summer's day. The man turns away to add more wood to the fire. He mumbles a few words and a flash of green sparks springs forth from the flickering flames. He is a mage. It is then that I recognize him from a time no less than a year ago, yet it feels like ages back. His face, though older is as kind as I remember it, and I know that for the time being I am safe.
"So we don't die of smoke suffocation." He explains gesturing towards the fire. "I had to seal the cave entrance. No point in surviving the blight only to be felled by strays of dark spawn."
He walks over to me and takes the empty bowl from my hands. He passes me a cup of water and I drink slowly, savoring the feel of the liquid on my dry tongue.
"You will have to excuse me; my Qunlat is limited at best.
"I speak the common tongue." I say, surprised at the huskiness of my voice.
"I suspected as much, but you did not speak when I saw you last, so I could not be sure."
He motioned towards the furs.
I would like to take a look at your injury again."
I nod.
"The blight is not over?" I ask between more sips of water.
"No. At least….we don't think so. The arch demon appeared to have been a decoy of some kind." He pulls the last of the bandages off and I groan when the cloth pulls loose from where it has stuck to the dried blood.
"The mage, Morrigan, she has passed. I have seen this. Along with your king. The gates would not hold. We could not hold the dark spawn back."
The mage nods gravely.
"Yes, you are right. King Alistair and Morrigan have died in battle."
The mage ghosts his hands over my wound, before soaking a wet cloth in water. It smells of herbs and I assume it to be medicinal of some kind. When he dabs the wet cloth against the wound, I draw my breath in sharply, but say nothing.
"The Warden?" I ask.
The mage continued his ministrations and looked up at me.
"Your warden is missing. So is the rogue." His tone is grave, and I sense a concern that the mage is not yet ready to speak out loud. With the King's death, there are only one Grey Warden left. If that Warden dies, there will be no one left that can stop the Blight. Not in Ferelden at least. The mage leaves my side, only to return a few minutes later with clean bandages and a fresh health poultice.
"It is only a poultice, not magical. I am familiar with the Qunari's….hesitance towards the arcane, and have not used magic in your healings." The mage places the poultice on the table. "You speak the common tongue though. I do not imagine you to be just any average Qunari."
"How long…." I start but my question is cut off by the searing pain from the mage's poultice.
"About three days. When I found you, you were barely breathing. At the same time another horde of dark spawn approached. It is a blessing that this cave was so close. How you ended up so far from the gates is a mystery to me."
"Asala?" I am almost afraid to utter the name. The mage looks at me questioningly.
"My sword…"
He points towards the back of the cave.
"I have cleaned it for you. It is slightly damaged and will require some smithing. When I found you, you were lying on top of it. Just as well or it would have been in the deep roads by now. When the time comes I would like to talk about how a Qunari warrior happens to be in possession of a lyrium-infused greatsword...but that is for another time. For now you need to rest. I need to go out and look for food and try to get in touch with my Circle. I will not be long, and the cave will stay sealed. You are safe here." He steps back from my make shift cot, enveloped in a soft amber glow, and when the light fades he too is gone.
I lie back onto the pillow to digest the information he has given me, the sting of the poultice fading into a warm, lulling sensation. I drift off, and fall asleep with the warmth of the fire on my face.