Chapter 14
"And did you take the Arishok's proof as requested?"
"I did."
"And the Arishok kept his end of the bargain?"
"He did."
"Do you regret what you have done?"
At this question I stay silent.
"How did it happen that you ended up in Ferelden again?"
Before I can answer a massive explosion rocks the cave, flying boulders and rocks ricocheting off the walls. The blast sends the mage and me flying backwards, debris and stones missing us by inches.
"By the tits of my ancestors!" A familiar voice rings out from the settling dust. "What in the blazes did you have holding this sodding cave together. Blood magic? Dworkin is going to have a fit if he sees how much of that lyrium sand I had to use to get your sodding asses out of here."
The mage is dusting off his robes but at the mention of blood magic he snaps up in indignation. The red headed dwarf marches up to the mage, oblivious to the offence he has caused.
"Name's Oghren. Warrior and companion to the Warden. If you've heard of me before, it's probably all been about how I piss ale and murder little boys who look at me wrong. And that's mostly true. You're that fancy mage from the Circle right? Whatsis name…" he catches sight of me and loses interest in the mage.
"As one of the blighters, I sodding salute you. The city has fallen but that there dragon wasn't the arch demon ya'll been yammering on about. We need to find the Warden and your little lady rogue friend. That pot-bellied son-of-a-whore Teagan said I can't kill dark spawn for shit. I aim to prove him wrong. Grab that sodding sword of yours and let's move. We can catch up on the road." He nods at the mage who has yet to find words to speak, before turning on his heel and walking out.
"I am almost too afraid to ask how he ended up with the Warden" the mage remarks.
"He means well, the Warden always says."
"Yes, well, I am sure he takes some getting used to. I am curious to know how he found us. It could not have been easy. No matter. The cave is destroyed and you have healed. Now is as good a time to leave as any."
It does not take us long to gather the things we wish to take with. The mage decides to only take his collection of leftover potions and poultices, carefully placing each into his bag of holding.
I lift my sword, the cool feel of the hilt as familiar to my skin as my heartbeat is to my soul. It slides easily into the sheath on my back and I stand up, steady on my feet.
I walk toward the hole blasted in the front of the cave, eager to leave the smell of mould and old fire behind. I can see from the rays of sunlight slicing through the choking fingers of the caves gloominess that the day outside is bright – as bright as the day I met Adaar in the forests of Seheron, and as bright as the day I killed her in the ruins of Ostagar.
My first step into the sunlight is steady and without pause.
This time I do not hesitate.