Author's Note: I really did grapple with how to handle this chapter as I went back and forth on what they should find here. But, for this story, this felt right.

~Echo in the Ruins~

The sun was relentless in its assault on the group of companions that silently made their way down the Imperial Highway. A destroyed portion of the road would soon force the group to pass through the village of Lothering and this realization left Drea with a sinking feeling. It had been the first settlement to fall during the Blight and was one of the many things that sat heavily on the Warden's mind. She dreaded seeing what had become of the village, especially after Eamon had refused to tell her what the King had seen when he passed through. He didn't say too much, was as much of an answer as Drea could pull from him. As they neared the village, she gently guided her horse towards a crumbled section that had settled next to a set of stairs. To her surprise, her horse navigated it without even slowing. Turning over her shoulder, she shouted to the others, "The section up ahead is damaged…completely impassable. We have to go through the town."

No one questioned her while their horses and the two mabari effortlessly followed Drea's new direction. As they got down from the highway, they found themselves standing in a field with the small town still a short distance away. The dread in Drea sharpened as, from where they stood, she could already see some of the buildings were little more than ash or bits of blackened frames. Swallowing down the rising sick feeling, she nudged her horse forward. As it slowly traipsed through the dead ground that had been blackened by the taint, Drea noticed the remains of the cage that housed Sten when she first met him. The village officials hadn't bothered to disassemble it after she took the large qunariwith her…obviously having more important things to worry about. She wanted to mention this to the Wardens, try to show them irrelevant points of interests as a distraction for herself but her mouth went dry at the thought. Almost reading her mind, Oghren piped up, "Hey Warden, isn't this where you met that giant of yours?"

"Sten? Yeah," she replied, still not pointing out the cage. After all he had done to help see her through the Blight, she realized she didn't want him remembered as a criminal.

"Yeah, Sten," Oghren repeated with a chuckle, "He sure was fun to watch in battle! The great, big giant with the great, big sword. If he woulda let me teach him how to berserk…he could have taken on the whole horde himself." Oghren paused to take a drink from his flask before adding, "Eh, but he didn't seem to like me much."

Privately, Drea smiled. It had been difficult to gain the qunari's trust much less his respect. It was only after Drea stood up to him out of frustration that he decided she might be worthy of his attention. Before Drea could say anything, Oghren continued, "You got Leliana here too?"

A small smile grew on her face as she replied, "She was a lay sister of the Chantry believe it or not. I was sure the meek sister was going to get hurt when she stepped between us and a group of Loghain's guards. But before I knew it, she knocked them all on their asses…it was just over at the tav…" Stumbling over her word, she finally looked at the large building that had almost entirely collapsed into a pile of rubble. "It used to be a tavern…" she breathed. Everyone was too taken in by the sight of the fallen town to comment. Drea's horse slowed as her attention was stuck on the large pile of stone and wood. Two adjacent walls were still half standing as though to contain the wreckage, but nothing was recognizable beyond the stone stairs leading to what was once a doorway.

Slowly she turned her head from the tavern to look at the cluster of houses in the opposite direction. She gently pulled on the reins and her horse came to a stop as she stared at the destruction. The ground was littered with the scattered debris from what used to be buildings and the area where the town's healer had set up camp was utterly buried. Most of the homes had been thoroughly burnt and any part of the framework that remained was dangerously unstable. The flutter of a curtain in the distance caught her eye and she realized some of the furthest houses were partly smashed, giving her an eerie view into what was someone's home. Looking from the partially collapsed buildings to the stone heap that was the tavern, she quietly commented, "It looks like they brought their catapults here." Not even glancing back at the others who were still mesmerized by the devastation, she reasoned, "But that makes sense…they had them in Ostagarand Denerim, so they would have had them here." Settling her focus on the stone bridge that spanned the creek running through town, she finished, "Which is why the bridge is perfectly in tact…it would be the only way to get them through town."

Letting out a long breath of air, she gently pressed her heels against her horse as she clicked her tongue, encouraging it forward. As the group fell silent, the only noise in the deserted town was the hoof falls on the stone bridge. The hollow sound somehow made the emptiness of the village absolute as the unnerving stillness squeezed her heart. Bracing herself against the despair, she kept moving forward.

As she crossed the bridge, the Lothering Chantry was brought into full view, and the sight shocked her. The large stone structure had crumbled in on itself, leaving very little of the tower standing. Moving from the path, she urged her horse towards the chantry as her heart dropped lower, knowing it was where most of the village's women and children met their death. Nearing the entrance, she quickly slid off her horse and started towards the door of the broken monument of faith. Surprised, Nate hopped off his horse and started after her while Anders stayed back to help the dwarves. "What are you doing?" Nate called.

Ignoring him, she was already trying to open the heavy wooden doors that were still in tact. When it did not easily give way, she shoved into it with her shoulder as Nate reached her. Suddenly, the door fell from the hinge and Nate jerked her back as it crashed to the ground with a startling thud, stirring up a large cloud of ash. Drea looked up at Nate with grim resolution in her eyes and he let go of her arm.

Peering in, they could see the floor had disappeared under the piles of burnt debris. The thick stench of stale smoke and death clung heavily to the air, adding to the chantry's ominous sorrow. Gingerly stepping into the structure, Drea looked up and quickly realized what happened - a fire had destroyed everything inside the chantry, including all the rafters and support beams, causing the stone tower to collapse. Even as they took soft, cautious steps further into the chantry, the loud crunch of the rubble under their boots was jarring. Her stomach knotted tightly as she looked around at the gutted room - anything that could burn was destroyed, and even the heavy furniture was unrecognizable. Narrowing her eyes, she looked across the room at the alter for the candles of Andraste, expecting to see them melted into a large mess. But there was not even that - they had dissipated into nothing and even the alter was just a pile of blackened wood bits.

"Not to be disrespectful," Velanna broke the oppressive silence, "But where are the bodies? I realize there was a fire, but there should still be bones of some description…"

Drea nodded as she looked down at the mess under her feet and realized there were no bones…nor had there been any outside by the destroyed homes. "That's a good question," she answered quietly, still scrutinizing the floor as the kept crossing the room. There was no doubt that many had died here, but there was no trace of any bodies or clues to how exactly they died. Were they trapped inside and burnt alive? Were they callously slaughtered by the darkspawn while the women were taken away? The questions circled in her mind as she was compelled to push on to the Revered Mother's room.

"The darkspawn horde is on the move and you are directly in its path," Drea pleaded.

Trying to keep the irritation from her voice as they continued to argue in circles, the Revered Mother replied, "And what would you have me do?"

"Run," she exclaimed loudly, "Tell everyone to pack up and flee! We're headed to Redcliff, you can come with us."

Shaking her head, the Revered Mother sighed, "I have encouraged many to flee already, but have you ever tried to evacuate an entire village?" Drea glanced back at Alistair who shrugged helplessly. Seeing their reply, she continued, "It takes longer than you'd expect. And even if we could do the impossible and be mobile…today even…we couldn't make it to Redcliff. With all the children, elderly, sick, and injured we will be far too slow. It's too late."

"There are plenty of carts we can have pulled by horse or oxen even! It wouldn't slow us down that much," Drea pushed, refusing to listen to her logic.

With a severe tone of finality, the Revered Mother spoke sternly, "We die here or we die on the road. At least here, we can make our stand and defend our homes." She paused for a moment as she held Drea under a scrutinizing stare. Finally, she asked, "You are the last two Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden?" After Drea hesitantly nodded, she continued, "While I appreciate wide-eyed idealism, this is a lesson you will have to learn, especially considering the hardships you have ahead of you. No-win situations exist and that is a cold, hard fact. And when they come up, all you can do is accept it for what it is…and choose the lesser of the evils."

The memory slowly dissolved and the blessing that the Revered Mother gave her was all that faintly rang in her ears. Pulling her from her thoughts, Drea felt a hand on her arm and it took all of her strength to remain still rather than instinctively jerk away. Anders squeezed his hand as he spoke, "I can see it all over your face…but this wasn't your fault…"

Accepting his gesture, she placed her hand over his as she turned to look at him. Softly, she replied, "I know. I…had begged them to leave - begged the Revered Mother, begged anyone who would listen. In return, a group of them tried to capture us for the reward money." She sighed before adding thoughtfully, "But it doesn't make this any less tragic…" Anders silently nodded at her words.

Deciding it was time to leave, the group carefully picked their way back through the main room to the exit. With Nate's help, Drea rested the heavy door against the opening before leading her horse back onto the path through the village. As she moved into the area that had been used for the refugees, a large stone monument caught her eye. Again, getting distracted from their need to get back on the road, she crossed the field and saw large mounds behind the monument. "I guess we know where the bodies are," she breathed, realizing the stone monument had names listed on it and the mounds were mass graves. Several smaller mounds were stretched along either side with small headstones. Reaching the monument, she noticed a set of carving tools placed beside it.

"Survivors, maybe?" Anders suggested. Turning back, Drea frowned. "You don't think there were any survivors?"

Gesturing at the grim ruins that once were the village of Lothering, she asked, "Do you?" Anders averted his gaze as he shook his head. Turning back to the stone, Drea continued quietly, "Relatives. They were very brave relatives to come here…the depths of the human spirit never ceases to amaze me."

Reaching up, her fingers delicately traced over the names as she noticed how much space was still left for others to fill in. Dropping her arm back down, she bowed her head respectfully as she started in an even voice, "Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide." Realizing she was starting a prayer for all those that had fallen in Lothering, Nate and Anders quietly bowed their heads. Not familiar with her words, but following their companion's actions, Velanna, Sigrun, and Oghren hastily bowed their heads as well. Taking a deep breath, Drea continued from memory, "I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond. For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light and nothing that He has wrought shall be lost…Trials 1:14"

Drea paused as the group took a moment of silence at the monument. The pain was clear in her eyes as she turned to her companions. "We must keep moving," she declared in a dull tone. Once everyone was again mounted, they made their way up another bank, back onto the Imperial Highway and continued.

They were able to get several more hours in before they had to stop for camp. The imposing mood of Lothering still clung to them all as they quietly sat, eating their rations. Eventually, Drea stood up to address the group. Not mentioning their experience at the village, Drea plunged into the arrangements for the night. "We are in the mouth of the Korcari Wilds. While I don't believe the fanciful tales, I'm not thrilled about having to set up camp here so we'll be standing watch in pairs."

"Fanciful stories as in the dreaded Witch of the Wilds?" Anders tried to joke and break the tension.

Without a hint of a smile, Drea replied, "Actually, I meant that the Chasind were dumb, mindless barbarians. The Witch of the Wilds is very true, although not of much consequence now..."

"Wasn't that what Morrigan was?" Oghren asked with a smirk, "I know I heard Alistair call her a swamp witch enough times."

"You could consider Morrigan a Witch of the Wilds," Drea agreed, still not taking part in the attempts at levity, "But it's a name that was more for her mother…Flemeth"

"Asha'bellanar? The Woman of Many Years?" Velanna asked, the surprise clear in her voice.

Holding up her hand to quiet everyone, Drea fought the urge to pace as she spoke, "Before I say anymore, I want to make it perfectly clear that the Grey Warden Order failed the people of Lothering."

Not letting her continue, Nate interrupted, "It was Loghain's actions that decided the outcome at Ostagar…that's what sealed the fate of Lothering…"

"I'm sure all those people saw it that way too," she sighed with more than a hint of sarcasm. "The reality is, whatever the reasons, the Wardens failed to stand between the people and the darkspawn. Too often, we think our job is to battle the darkspawn – be the ones to go toe to toe with the monsters. But, what we must never forget is, we are also charged with protecting the people. That is why we are here today. In the darkspawn lairs in Amaranthine, I have come across two items that have left me concerned."

Finally unable to stop herself, Drea started pacing as she continued on, "But yes, Flemeth, the woman of many years. One of the companions I traveled with during the Blight was Morrigan, an apostate that grew up here in the Wilds. Her mother was named Flemeth and while at the time I didn't believe it was the Flemeth of the legends, I have since come to know that was true." Noticing the lost look on Oghren and Sigrun's faces she realized neither of the dwarves had been exposed to much human lore. Looking to them, she continued, "The legend of Flemeth originated many generations ago and the short version is she was a mage that, after a hurtful betrayal, summoned a Fade demon to do her bidding. The demon decided to join with her instead, but rather than become your typical abomination, they just…became one entity." Shrugging, she added, "I'm…not very good with stories."

"If you believe she is real," Anders interrupted again, "When why did you say the Witch of the Wilds is of no consequence?"

As Anders spoke, Drea had paused in her pacing long enough to listen to him before replying, "Because she's dead." Anders shifted his eyes to give Nate a subtle look of confusion, which Nate returned. Resuming her pacing, Drea added, "When we were helping Wynne and the other mages with a crisis at the Circle Tower, we came across a tome that had belonged to Flemeth. Once Morrigan was able to break the encryption, she discovered that the key to Flemeth's immortality wasn't as simple as her being an abomination. The Flemeth I had met was Flemeth, but in a different body – she has daughters, or likely kidnaps them, and eventually transfers her…essence…to them. Realizing she was to be next, Morrigan needed us to kill Flemeth and so while she stayed with Wynne at the safety of the camp, Leliana, Alistair, Arkon, and I did as she asked. I believe the only reason we were successful was Flemeth had no time to prepare."

Drea fell silent as a brief moment of guilt flittered in her chest. She also believed they were successful because, after being the one to save them from the devastation at Ostagar, Flemeth didn't expect them to show their gratitude by killing her. Pressing on, she continued before more questions could come, "So why does this matter? Well, I am sure the items I found in Amaranthine belonged to Flemeth. The tome in the broodmother's lair had the same binding and encryption as the Grimoire we gave to Morrigan and the staff I found in the Architect's lair was the one I saw at Flemeth's hut the day I killed her. Being that I found these items with the darkspawn, I believe that this puzzle falls into Grey Warden territory..."

"What about the runes that were by the book in the broodmother's lair? Do you think those belonged to this Flemeth as well?" Sigrun asked, remembering everything she watched Drea stuff in her bag that day.

Shaking her head as she slowly kept pacing, she replied, "I have no reason to believe they did, but at the same time, I didn't completely ransack Flemeth's hut. The fact that the tome was in a shrine with those runes makes me think it wasn't random looters that took these things though. It has to be some sort of mage…maybe a maleficar or blood mage? Unfortunately, with all the exploring we've done in unusual places in Amaranthine, that's all I've found. I'm hoping we can find clues around Flemeth's hut and start tracing back to who might have taken her things. If not…we might have to approach the Mages' Collective…"

Letting out a long breath of air, Drea forced herself to stop and look at all the Wardens sitting by the fire. It was obvious they were disquieted by the large amount of information she unleashed not to mention her obvious agitation. Spreading apart her hands, she admitted, "Yes, I'm nervous." Nate caught her eye as he offered her a warm smile. Feeling his encouragement from across the fire, she added, "Alright, I'm more than nervous. The truth is, I'm a fighter…give me my blades and I can take on, well, the archdemon itself with no qualms. I'm also a noble, now an arlessa, and am perfectly at ease in court. Even in a room full of nobles waiting to stab me in the back, I'm fine and focused. But I am no mage. To be perfectly honest with you all, this is beyond me and I am a fish out of water here. It makes me feel like a complete simpleton, but all this Fade and magic stuff…makes me a little nervous. I don't understand it but with all I've seen during the Blight I know it can be extremely dangerous."

Lowering herself into a spot by the fire, Drea wasn't sure what else to say. From the other side of the fire pit, Oghren lobbed something over to her as he rumbled, "I was nervous once." Easily snatching the object out of the air, Drea saw it was his hip flask. With his deep chuckle, he snorted, "But then I found the cure."

Hesitantly, Drea unscrewed the lid. As the stench hit her nostrils, she instantly coughed and pulled it away from her face. "Oghren! What is this?"

"I call it the Feelings Killer!" he exclaimed proudly.

"Well, when you're done with that nug piss, Commander," Sigrun cut in, "Do you think we could hear more about the Witch of the Wilds? Or do you know of any other stories? I know it's not about our mission, but I find human legends fascinating."

Screwing the lid back on without taking a sip, Drea turned to Sigrun. She wasn't sure if the dwarf really was interested or just trying to steer her towards a lighter topic. Either way, Drea couldn't help but appreciate her gesture. With a tight, lopsided smile, Drea agreed, "Like I said, I'm not much of a story teller, but I'll try…"