Zalandri found herself in a small room of a hut, breathing in murky, cold air on the old, worn bed she was lying on. She wasn't sure when she had woken up, or how she got there, and couldn't think properly for a few minutes. She closed her eyes and thought back as far as she could.

King Cailan and Loghain arguing… Duncan… the Tower of Ishal… ogre… Alistair was hurt… darkspawn… Alistair. Her eyes flew open and she sat up quickly, too quickly. The room spun and she rolled from the bed with a thud onto the floor. The door opened, and a strange but somehow familiar young woman came in, raising her eyebrows in an exasperated way at the dizzy, bumbling Voshai. Morrigan closed the door behind her and sighed, pulling Zalandri up onto the bed again. Zalandri groaned and squinted at her through her hands.

"You… the Witch. Morrigan," she rasped.

"Yes, I am she," Morrigan drawled, going over to the fire to stir a large pot that was hanging over it. "You have finally woken up. You're lucky my mother saved you from that tower. She will be pleased. How does your memory fare? Do you remember mother's rescue?"

"What happened to the army? To the king?" Zalandri was thinking clearly now, and she was pulling on her linen shirt that had been draped on the bedpost.

"The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field. You were overrun by darkspawn," Morrigan answered, contempt lingering in her voice for Loghain's actions. "Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend… is not taking it well."

"My friend… Alistair?" Zalandri stood and pulled on her pants, wincing at the sudden pains going through her sides.

"Careful, or I shall not bandage those wounds again," Morrigan warned. "The suspicious dim-witted one who was with you before, yes. He is outside by the fire. Mother asked to see you when you awoke."

Zalandri nodded and slipped into her leather boots. She walked to the door and turned around, bowing to Morrigan, who seemed quite surprised.

"Thank you, serah. I am in you and your mother's debt." Morrigan was genuinely surprised by the humble thanks, and did not know what to say.

"I… you are welcome." she decided against another snarky answer. "Though mother did most of the work. I am no healer."

Zalandri stepped outside, where Alistair was standing, his back to her, looking out over the marsh. The old Witch they had met before was sitting in a chair, stroking Feren's feathers lovingly. She looked up as Feren gave a small squawk and flew to Zalandri, nuzzling his little beak into her neck. She smiled, nuzzled him back gently and mumbled a greeting at him, happy that her companion was safe and well. The Witch stood up and looked over at Alistair.

"See? Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man."

Alistair turned around and ran to Zalandri, almost running into her.

"You- you're alive," his voice was hoarse, and he didn't seem to really believe what he was saying. "Thank the Maker. Are you alright? Were you hurt badly? Where were you hurt?" He grabbed her shoulders and roughly turned her around, inspecting her for visible signs of blood. She planted her feet firmly and took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

"Alistair, I'm fine. Morrigan and her mother healed and bandaged me. It's okay." Alistair seemed relieved, and his hands fell to her waist, holding her tight as though he was afraid she would disappear. His eyes flickered down to her shoulder, where Feren was peering out of her hair, annoyed at being shaken on his perch.

"Ah, and hello to you, too, Ser Feren," Alistair held up his hand to the little hawk, who nibbled it affectionately, forgiving his clumsiness. Alistair sighed and gazed Zalandri again, just to make sure she was in tact. She could see dark circles forming under his eyes, and his usually cheerful face was dark and sullen, as though he did not have the strength to keep his head up.

"If it had not been for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower for sure," he muttered.

"Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad," the old woman said, and Alistair and Zalandri both turned to her.

"I didn't mean…" Alistair began apologetically. "But-but what do we call you? You never told us your name."

She smirked. "Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind folk call me 'Flemeth', so I suppose it will do."

Alistair stared at her, as if seeing her for the first time. "The Flemeth?" he asked, incredulous. "From the legends? Then… Daveth was right. You are the Witch of the Wilds."

"Thank you, serah Flemeth," Zalandri bowed to the witch. "Thank you for rescuing us and treating our wounds."

Flemeth was pleased. "Now here is a young woman who has not forgot her manners!" she cackled.

"But why did you save us?" pressed Alistair.

"Well, we can't have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we? Someone has to deal with the darkspawn. It has always been the duty of the Wardens to unite the land when there is a Blight. Or did that change while I wasn't looking?"

"But we were fighting the darkspawn," Alistair cried, "The king had nearly defeated them! Why would Loghain do something like this?"

"Now that is a good question," Flemeth nodded. "Men's hearts hold darker shadows than any tainted creature."

"What could Teryn Loghain hope to gain by betraying the king?" Zalandri asked.

"The throne?" suggested Alistair. "He's the queen's father. Still, I cannot see how he can get away with murder."

"He's not the first king to gain his throne that way," Zalandri muttered. Flemeth looked at her with some amusement.

"Indeed," she agreed.

"If Arl Eamon knew what had happened, he would never stand for it. The Landsmeet would never stand for it! There would be civil war!" Alistair said angrily.

"You suggest we go to the arl of Redcliffe?" Zalandri asked him.

"I suppose…" Alistair looked thoughtful. "He wasn't at Ostagar, he still has all his men. And he's Cailan's uncle. I know him," he looked hopeful now. "He's a good man, respected in the Landsmeet. Yes, we could go and seek help from the arl!"

Zalandri nodded, and Flemeth laughed.

"Such determination. How intriguing.." she said, observing the two of them.

"Though, I'm not sure his forces would be enough. He can't defeat the darkspawn on his own." Alistair was unsure how to proceed.

"What about the treaties?" Zalandri had looked through the Cache when they had retrieved them from Flemeth before the battle. "If we call on the other allies in Ferelden, they are bound to give us their aid, are they not?"

"Of course!" Alistair clapped a hand to his head. "Dwarves, elves, mages… they're obligated to help the Wardens during a Blight!"

Flemeth was looking appreciatively at Zalandri. "You seem well versed in the preparation of war during political unrest. Where did you say you were from, child?"

Zalandri nodded. "I am from across the Volca sea, from Narukk. My family, the House of Jémes, is one that is… involved in such dealings often."

Flemeth nodded knowingly. "Ah, yes," she said, looking at the young woman with newfound interest. "I know of your family. You would know of war and dirty fighting nobles." She turned to Alistair once more. "Dwarves, elves, mages… I may be old, but this sounds like an army to me."

"So.. can we do this?" Alistair was still unsure. "Go to Redcliffe and just.. build an army?"

"Why not? Isn't that what Grey Wardens do?" Zalandri said with a smile.

"So, are you ready then? Ready to be Grey Wardens?" Flemeth had an excited gleam in her eye.

"Yes," Zalandri bowed deeply once more. "Thank you for everything, Flemeth."

"No, no," she shook her head. "You are the Grey Wardens here, not I. Now… before you go, there is yet one more thing that I can offer you."

Just then, Morrigan came outside of the hut. "The stew is bubbling, mother dear. Shall we have to guests for the eve," she turned to look at the two Wardens, "or none?"

"The Grey Wardens will be leaving shortly, girl. And you will be joining them." Flemeth said, nonchalantly, and Zalandri could not hide her surprise.

"Such a shame-" Morrigan started sarcastically, but then looked at her mother sharply when she had realized what the old woman had said. "What?"

"You heard me girl." Flemeth did not hide the smirk on her lips. "The last I looked, you had ears!" She threw back her head and cackled at the expression on Morrigan's face.

Morrigan opened her mouth in protest, confused and angry.

Zalandri spoke quickly, trying to avoid any argument. "Thank you, but if Morrigan does not wish to join us…"

"Her magic will be useful." Flemeth answered. "Even better, she knows the Wilds and how to get past the hordes."

Morrigan stood up straight, indignant, with her arms crossed. "Have I no say in this?" she demanded.

Flemeth gave her a wry smile. "You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance. As for you Wardens," she turned to them again, "consider this repayment for your lives."

Zalandri nodded and addressed Morrigan. "We will gladly accept your help. Thank you." Morrigan huffed and did not answer.

Alistair wasn't so sure. "Not to… look a gift horse in the mouth, but won't this add to our problems? Outside of the Wilds, she's an apostate."

Flemeth raised her eyebrows. "If you do not wish to have help from us illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should have left you on that tower."

Alistair quickly backtracked. "Ah. Point taken."

Morrigan was not yet convinced. "Mother.. this is not how I wanted this! I am not ready…"

"You must be ready, my girl. These two Wardens must unite the land against the Blight, and without you they will surely fail. All will perish under the Blight. Even I."

"I… understand…"

Flemeth looked at the Wardens with a very serious face now. "And do you understand?" she asked them. "I give you that which I value above all else in the world. I do this because you must not fail."

"She won't come to harm with us," Zalandri reassured her. Alistair bowed politely.

"Allow me to get my things," Morrigan sighed. She disappeared into the hut and shortly returned with a small leather pack and her mage staff.

"I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens," she said, sounding annoyed. "I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. 'Tis not far, and you will find much you need there. Or," she shrugged, "I will simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours."

Zalandri smiled at her and shook her head. "No, please. Do speak your mind. Thank you again for helping us."

Flemeth laughed loudly. "Oh, you will regret saying that," she warned.

Morrigan ignored this comment. "Farewell, mother. Eat the stew on the fire, and take care. I would hate to return to a burned down hut."

"Bah," the witch scoffed. "'Tis more likely that you would returned to find the whole area, along with my hut, swallowed up by the Blight."

Morrigan's stone expression cracked and she stammered. "I.. all I meant was…"

Flemeth looked at her warmly. "I know, child. Do try to have fun, dear."

They gathered their things, thanked Flemeth again and set off, Morrigan leading the way. Zalandri had been given a new cloak by Flemeth, and all of her weapons and pouches were comfortably hidden under the thick material. With her guidance, they were able to pass through the Wilds, unnoticed by any horde.

By early evening they reached the outskirts of Lothering, and just outside of the refugee camps, Alistair stopped and looked over the town.

"Well, there it is. Lothering. Pretty as a painting." he remarked.

"Ah," Morrigan said dryly. "So you've finally decided to rejoin us, have you? Falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble, I take it?" Alistair had barely said a word on their way out of the Wilds, following Zalandri and Morrigan in a grim silence. Zalandri actually had to take his hand and lead him a few times, worried that he would run headlong into a tree, he was so glum in thought of Duncan. Morrigan had tried to make a few smart comments, but stopped with a shrug when Zalandri silently shook her head at her pleading for her not to go on.

Zalandri sighed to herself as the two started bickering. She guessed already that they would not get along.

"Is my being upset so hard to understand?" Alistair demanded, growing angry. "Have you never lost someone important to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?"

Morrigan looked at him, a bored expression. "Before or after I stopped laughing?" she replied. Alistair scoffed and shook his head.

"Right. Very creepy. Forget I asked," he muttered.

Zalandri decided it would be a good time to step in.

"You have been very quiet, Alistair…"

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry… I've just been… thinking."

"No wonder it took so long, then." Morrigan stretched.

Alistair opened his mouth furiously to snap back a retort, but Zalandri cut him off.

"About?"

"I thought… we should talk about where we intend to go, first." he shot a dark glare at Morrigan, who pretended not to notice.

Zalandri thought of their options for a moment, looking up at Feren who was soaring in circles high above them, looking for any signs of a meal.

"Redcliffe…" she said slowly, "Is where Arl Eamon is. It's also very close to the Tower of the Circle of Magi, is it not? And between us and Orzammar. I do not know where the Dalish elves are at the moment, specifically. It may do us good to head to Redcliffe first, gather our forces there, and then search for the elves."

Morrigan seemed to approve of the idea, as did Alistair.

"If we head east after that, we should hear more of the clan that wanders the areas of the Brecilian Forest."

They walked through the camps and found a tavern, with merchants standing outside. They traded and sold the valuables they had looted from darkspawn and other creatures in the Wilds for food and water, and went inside. The tavern was warm and homely, though the people in it were looking weary from stress and hunger. Among the drinkers Zalandri immediately noticed two men in armor, with crests she recognized. She pulled Alistair and Morrigan behind a wide pillar and gestured over her shoulder at the two men.

"Loghain's men," she said in a low voice. Morrigan peered curiously behind the pillar to see who she was talking about, and Alistair narrowed his eyes.

"What are they doing here?" he hissed.

Zalandri shook her head. "I'm not sure. Guess we should find out." She stepped out from behind the pillar, keeping a hand on the hilt of her dagger under her cloak, and walked towards the men.

They turned around, hearing her walk towards them, and looked her up and down, then at Alistair behind her.

"Haven't we been asking around for a woman matching this very description?" One said to the other through his helm.

"Yes, we have," the other sneered. "It seems we've been lied to." Several other armed men, all bearing the coat of Loghain, stood from the bar with their hands on their hilts.

"Now, now, ser, please, if I may," a high, pretty voice rang out, and a woman dressed in robes of the Chantry stepped forward with her hands up for peace. "Gentlemen," she smiled at Loghain's men, "surely there is no need for trouble. These are most likely more poor souls here to flee from the Blight." Zalandri noticed a small sword on her back, unusual for a Sister of the Chantry.

"They are more than that!" snapped the soldier. "Now step back, Sister. If you protect these traitors, you will get the same as them." He stepped back and placed his hand on his hilt, getting ready to draw. "Capture the Wardens and take them into custody!" he barked at his men. "Kill the Sister and anyone else who gets in our way!"

Zalandri drew her knives and went to stand in front of the Sister, but she had already drawn her sword and quickly taken down the soldier standing behind her. She nodded at Zalandri, signalling that she could handle her own, and Zalandri understood, moving to Alistair's aid as several soldiers rushed him at once. Morrigan coated the soldiers in an icy frost, and Zalandri moved steadily from one to another, smashing them into bits with her blades. Finally, they stood before the commander, who had dropped his weapon and surrendered against the bar.

Zalandri had him pinned there, a blade pointing at his neck, and she spoke dangerously soft to him.

"Take a message to Loghain."

He gulped and nodded carefully under the point of her dagger. "Wh-what do you want me to tell him?"

Her bright orange eyes flashed, causing a whimper to escape from his lips, and she said "We know what really happened at Ostagar. We're coming for him."

"I'll tell him! Right away!" he stammered, and dropped to his knees when she withdrew her blade. He clambered up and ran out of the tavern.

Zalandri sheathed her sword and apologized to the tavern keep for the ruckus. They, with the help of the Sister, dragged the bodies outside. The Sister stood and cleaned off her weapon before speaking to Zalandri.

"I apologize for interfering," she said with a smile. "But I couldn't just sit by and not help."

"Not at all," Zalandri replied, with a polite bow. "Thank you for your help. Though I admit, I did not seek to find a fighter in a Chantry Sister."

"Let me introduce myself." the Sister bowed back deeply. "I am Leliana, one of the Lay Sisters here in Lothering."

"I am Zalandri. This is Alistair, and Morrigan."

"You are Grey Wardens, fighting the Blight, yes?" Leliana asked after Alistair and Morrigan had exchanged greetings with her. "I know after what happened at Ostagar, you will need all the help you can get. That's why I'm coming along." She said cheerfully.

"Oh?" Zalandri raised her eyebrows at her.

"You are, are you?" Alistair asked.

"Yes. The Maker told me to."

Morrigan let out an audible groan behind Zalandri.

"Can you… elaborate?" Zalandri asked, ignoring Morrigan.

Leliana looked slightly flustered. "I- I know it sounds absolutely insane, but I had a dream! A vision! I believe it came from the Maker, and he needs me to help you defeat the Blight."

Alistair snorted with laughter. "More crazy? I thought we were full up," he muttered to Zalandri.

Leliana ignored Alistair's comment. "What you do, it's the Maker's work! Saving all these people… please, let me help!" She looked earnestly at Zalandri. She had an honest face.

"...Very well," she said, to the surprise of Morrigan and Alistair. "We do need as much help as we can get."

Leliana beamed. "Oh, thank you!" she cried. "Allow me to collect my things. I will rejoin you shortly." She hurried off to the Chantry.

Morrigan immediately made a sarcastic comment, but Zalandri ignored her.

"Are you sure? I mean, we do need help, but don't you think this one seems, a bit…" Alistair opened his eyes wide and made a movement around his head with his hands.

"We'll see. For now, it won't do us any good if we turned away help from anyone," Zalandri told him. He shrugged and nodded.

"I suppose so."

They wandered around Lothering, until they came across a cage with a very large, heavy set, muscular man inside.

Qunari, Zalandri recognized his features from those she saw in her journey in the north.

The Qunari was muttering something under his breath as he stood in the cage. She walked towards him and he looked down at her.

"You are not my captors. I will not amuse you anymore than I have the other humans. Go. Leave me in peace."

"You're a prisoner? Who put you here?" she asked him.

"I am in a cage am I not?" he replied, gesturing to the metal bars. "I was captured by the Chantry. I am Sten of the Berasaad - the vanguard- of the Qunari people.

Zalandri bowed. "I am Zalandri of the Voshai. Pleased to meet you."

Alistair marveled at her silently. She was always so polite.

Sten looked at her with narrowed eyes. "You mock me," he said. "Or you show me a politeness that I have not come to expect from humans. No matter. I will die here soon enough."

Alistair cleared his throat and spoke to Zalandri. "Not to put too fine a point on it," he said, looking at Sten, "but the Qunari are renowned warriors. If we could release him, perhaps he might help us."

"I was put here for killing a family of eight, including the children. Death will be my atonement. I suggest you leave me to my fate." Sten seemed unphased by this.

"There are other ways to atone for your crimes," Zalandri suggested. "Come with me and help us defend the land against the Blight."

The Qunari's stoic expression changed very slightly, almost invisibly. "The Blight? Are you a Grey Warden, then?"

"Yes, I am." Zalandri replied.

"Surprising." Zalandri smirked at the Qunari's response. "My people have heard many legends of the Wardens' strength and skill… though I suppose not all are true." he continued.

She moved past his strange comment. "Would the revered mother let you free?" she asked.

"Perhaps if you told her the Grey Wardens need my assistance. It seems as likely to bring my death as waiting here."

"I will leave you for now." He nodded and they left him, heading for the Chantry.

Zalandri gave a few silvers as a donation to the poor in the Chantry, earning a grateful smile from the revered mother. She took the chance to talk to her, about Sten the Qunari. The mother was not pleased to find the troublesome Grey Wardens in her Chantry, but nonetheless was convince to let Sten go.

Sten was genuinely surprised when Zalandri returned to his cage with the keys.

"I confess, i did not think the priestess would part with it," he watched Zalandri open the door.

"She agreed to let you into my custody," Zalandri replied, and stepped back to allow him to come out.

"So be it." He lowered his head and stepped out of the cage. "I will follow you against the Blight."

"Thank you, Sten. Glad to have you with us." Zalandri smiled at him, but his face did not change.

"May we proceed?" he asked. "I am eager to be elsewhere."

Leliana came running, now dressed not in her Chantry robes but in light leather armor, a bow and quiver strapped to her back, with her sword at her side. She did not seem to be surprised by Sten, and greeted him cheerfully. With everyone ready, they left Lothering. As they drew near the highway, however, Zalandri and Alistair felt a familiar sickening reaction in their bodies.

"Zal…" he warned. She nodded. Feren screeched a warning ahead, and they all drew their weapons. A group of darkspawn came into view up ahead, seemingly already in a fight with something else. Zalandri quickened her pace and shot ahead of the group, Alistair not far behind her. Her steps became inaudible, and she disappeared into the shadows of the wall, elongated by the now setting sun. Alistair drew a breath, steeling himself and mustering his strength for a charge, and roared, gathering the attention of the darkspawn and rushing through them, effectively knocking some down. Zalandri reappeared behind a large hurlock, and swiftly cut it down, leaping from its back as it fell to hurl herself at a grunt who was preparing to attack Alistair. Arrows rain down on the gemlocks, piercing their armor as Leliana released one after another. The Alpha came charging at Zalandri, distracted by another hurlock, and sent her flying. She rolled several times before she could plant her foot down and stop. Alistair gave a yell of fury and charged the Alpha, staggering him, and Morrigan froze him in place. Arrows flew into it's chest, and Alistair gave the final, fatal blow. He ran to Zalandri, picking her up and placing her on the ground again with ease, looking anxious.

"I'm fine," she told him. "Just winded slightly." The Alpha had knocked the wind clean out of her, and she coughed to regain her breath. Alistair looked relieved, but still held her close. She tapped his shoulder, asking for him to let her go, and they walked to the others. Sten had held back, as he did not have a weapon, and had covered two dwarves during the fight.

"Are you what they were fighting when we got here?" Zalandri asked. The older dwarf with the beard was looking extremely relieved, sweat glistening on his brow.

"Ah, yes, serah! Yes we were. I'm very grateful that you got here when you did, yes indeed! Thank you very, very much for helping us!" He gestured toward the younger dwarf. "I am Bodhan Feddic, merchant and entrepreneur. This here's m'boy, Sandal. Say hello, Sandal."

"Hello." Sandal said with a broad smile.

Zalandri bowed at them. "I am Zalandri, ser Feddic."

"Mind if I ask what brings you this way? The road's mighty dangerous these days, and perhaps we can go together the same way?" he asked.

She smiled. "It's a bit… complicated," she said hesitantly. "But you are welcome to come along."

"Complicated?" repeated Bodhan, laughing. "Somehow, I think that doesn't say the half of it! Thank you for the offer, but I think the excitement on your path is more than necessary for me and my boy here. I bid you farewell, and good tidings."

Before the group headed on, Zalandri looked around in the crates. Alistair collected what coin and valuables he could find on the darkspawn. Zalandri found a gold statuette, which she pocketed. Seems like something Alistair may like, she thought.

The group headed north past the edges of Lothering, then set up camp in the gathering darkness. Their journey past Lothering until they set up camp was a grim one; they passed by a smaller village with no inhabitants, only corpses- the remains of the group of darkspawn they had just defeated on the highway. Leliana said a prayer for the deceased as they passed, but Zalandri could not shake the image of a small child, seemingly asleep but for the large wound in her side, laying in her mother's arms.