S'happening boys and girls? Are we well? Are we refreshed? Are we reading to stare at a screen for the next 5-10 minutes or so? Goood.

One thing before we start. As I write this, my review count is at 69. I have not stopped laughing like a teenager, which admittedly I am but I always figured I was mature. These claims have been dismissed.

Ioialoha: When are things ever that easy? I will squeeze every drop of filler into this story. And, y'know, it's good stuff. I think. Character building, plot developing, story telling filler...

Snowhelm: You always say the sweetest things m'dear! I took the minimap idea from the games where, until you'd been there, the map was dark. It always told me where I needed to go because I hadn't been there yet. Sparrow's thing was a bit different but that was the inspiration. He does have a bad hand in the future, but he's got time to prepare. And I'm kinda hoping the same thing for Sparrow, though I phrase it differently and it comes out sounding horrible.

The Invisible Pretender: Yeah... Sparrow's based on me and in the wise words of those around me I'm "a wordy" something impolite, though apparently wise... I take it with a pinch of salt though. That being said... you'll see I'm very contradictory.

Phalanx213: Oh, I like Grey. For this story, Grey is very good. Thanks for the review :)

Okay, let's get this party started!

Chapter 23: Transcendence

I stare at the target, lining up the sights of my crossbow. Breathe in, hold the breath. Out, pulling the trigger.

A dead centre, right in the bullseye.

"You are a remarkable shot," Duncan says enthusiastically. "You shall be a great Warden one day."

"What can I say, I have many a hidden talent," I say with a small smirk. A cool wind blows past us, and a shiver runs down my spine.

"Will you teach me how to kill one day Sparrow?" Darrien asks with a a Cheshire cat grin plastered on his face. I blink at him and shake my head, trying to move the words in my mind to see if I misheard him.

"I, uh..." I stumble over my words.

"Never fear my son, I will show you the art of death," Adaia says, taking her son by the shoulder. In her other hand hangs her mask of the Dread Wolf. My chest tightens slightly in fear.

"I don't know, Sparrow is an excellent death dealer. The darkness in his heart will blacken the skies," says another voice. I turn my head to stare at the target. But it's not a target any more. It's Elvha, with an arrow sticking out of her head. A trail of blood runs past her eye and over her lips. As I watch, she licks at her blood like a thirsty kitten. She stares at me with an expression of fury that cows my heart.

"This isn't real," I whisper, a hint of desperation in my voice. This is a dream, or a nightmare. This is madness given form and I need to wake up right this second because I know, oh god I know, that it's going to get a lot worse.

"Is any of this," a dragon roars from high above. It's wings buffet the air around me and it feels like a tone of bricks is falling on me with every blast. Thankfully the monster lands beside the others before I'm swept off my feet, it's black eyes staring deep into mine.

"Ask yourself this, 'Jack Sparrow'," it mocks as the others smile viciously. "Underneath those weapons, that magic, those muscles and that sharp tongue... what are you?"

"I-" I begin, but Duncan cuts me off.

"You think yourself a Warden? You've killed your superior? You're letting yourself be swept away from your duty?" He doesn't raise his voice, and I'd almost prefer it if he did. The disappointed resignation in his voice tears a chunk away from my heart. Like he knew this would happen, that I'd kill someone but he trusted me anyway and I let him down.

"But I-"

"You believe you are compassionate?" Adaia cries in disbelief. She sneers as she continues, "There was a reason I was to kill you. Your heart is blackened." And she's right, I may have helped her family but I've robbed so very much from others.

"But that's-"

I feel a tugging on my shoulder. I turn. Tamarel's there, her bandanna missing and her scars showing brazenly. It never did before, but now it scares me. The way that the light catches it, her scar almost appears to be a rictus grin. And her eye, the eye I saw as dead before, is suddenly looking right through me, past everything I try to shield every day and gazing unforgivably into my soul.

"We mean nothing to you. We're just pawns. Pixels. You will toss us aside as soon as we become a burden," she says accusingly. I clench my jaw and my eye twitches. "Nothing matters to you more that your home. Your life. We do not matter."

"Stop. Please. I'm begging you. Please stop," I say quietly, my voice breaking. Tamarel laughs and I feel my heart being wrapped in a vice.

"Aha..." She exclaims, her face darkening as the world around us begins to fade. Soon all I can see is that terrible grin. "So it's just a scared boy after all." She laughs darkly as the nightmare fades.

I wake up to a cold sweat, panting heavily, eyes darting around for a few moments in the darkness. I struggle against my bonds and let out a short pancked yelp. I struggle desperately as my heart races before I "wake up" and realize what's happening. I cease my struggles and lean against the tree I'm tied to with a sigh.

SSDD.

Soon after, we're moving and I day dream to pass the time. There's no other place for me but in my head these days, though admittedly it's less crowded. I'd grown used to the remarks from Oakvale and Jack, silence is now... uncomfortable.

"Move it," says the Templar harshly as he hauls me to my feet. I stumble, but manage to stay balanced. I hunch my shoulders and do my best to suppress a growl.

Templars aren't morning people, that's for sure. I can relate.

There are several reasons why they are not dead. One: my hands are tied behind my back. No biggie, can always flame out of them. But that brings us to two: there's Templar who, guess what, found a fucking bow. He's somewhere nearby, keeping a very close eye on me, so I've been told. I'd look around for him, but - and this is three - they've only gone and put a sack over my head. I can't see shit. I've been stumbling over the unpaved road for what feels like a week, maybe longer.

So essentially, I have a guide dog Templar walking me. When I brought up that snippet of information, well, they didn't really understand the concept of a seeing eye dog I guess but they assumed correctly it was an insult and smacked me. Note self: they hit a lot harder when you don't see it coming and can't protect yourself from either the blow or falling on your face.

Reason four, I'm sure it would open up a myriad of problems in the future if I torched a squad of Templars. I have to think about the future, public relations and all that.

And finally, Numero five... I've decided it's actually a good idea to get into the Circle.

I don't believe I have Stockholms, despite the fact my jailers are obviously honourable and decent gentlement trying to tame the savage land one apostate at a time and are true heroes worthy of legend... Really, it's a public service.

That's such heavy sarcasm, I nearly fall to my knees from the weight.

But no, in the Circle is the greatest weapon I can think of right now with Jack, Oakvale and Duncan out of reach. Books.

If I'm going to deal with half of the shit that I put up with in the games, I'm gonna have to be ready. Just spamming attack isn't really gonna cut it in the real world. I need to know what's out there, and how I kill it. So I need a bestiary of enemies to study. Then, I need to research the Crawler, see if anyone knows anything about the bastard in the mine. Which brings up the fact that it might not be the only thing from the Fable world that's out there... Or worse, there could be others.

Maybe there's another way to put it down? I'm hoping to find one. I had the binding ritual in my Warden armour. I'd keep it locked up somewhere, but I know too many people who can pick locks to trust that. Shit, maybe it burned up in the mill? My clothes didn't look burned, but who knows? Not that I need it. I've practically memorised the recipe for a caged Crawler souffle. But still, never hurt to be prepared.

And now with Elvha... Gone, I have to get someone to help me with my magic.

And finally, once Duncan hears the story in Lothering, he's gonna come for me. It won't do to leave him pissing in the wind while I'm running across the country.

So my best option is to stay the course and bunk up in the Mages Tower until someone busts me out or I go on a murder spree from frustration.

I'm so excited...

The Templars are a quiet bunch when they eat, I've noticed. They usually only say a few muttered words to one another. But as I sit, tied tightly to a tree and feeling the effects of their anti-magic spell or whatever it is, I listen around us.

For the past half hour my danger sense has been prickling. And it's never been wrong so far...

Something is out there, watching us. Every now and again I can hear a twig snap, or some leaves rustle without wind. It's scoping us out, but seems to be waiting for something. I'm not sure what. Our guards to lower? Maybe it's waiting on allies?

I'd like to know more before I bother my Templar companions. Every time I've tried to strike up a conversation there's only been a hard boot or a quick fist in response. Honestly, I don't know what these Apostates are on about, it's obviously five star treatment with these lot!

I'm careful not to nod off around them. It's leaving me tetchy and tired. But I remember what Duncan told me about talking in my sleep. I'd rather not say anything incriminating like "I'm from another universe" in front of these blokes.

But, if I'm honest... I'm not sleeping anyway. My dreams, my nightmares I guess... they haunt my waking moments as much as my sleeping. Sometimes it's mild, just harsh words that inspire depression and self loathing. Sometimes it's dark visions of blood and death that makes my heart race and my breath shake with fear. Others, I'm in excruciating pain, physical and otherwise and it just doesn't stop.

I don't think I'm dealing with any of this well. I always imagined I could be a big hero and keep a grin on my face. But I didn't think hero's had to be caked in blood. No, I did. But those were bad guys who deserved it. Did my victims? That's how I feel. I haven't even killed that many people. But it's been enough to... do this to me.

So there I was. Tired, hungry, cold and damp. Not a friend around me, captive again... Defeated.

So of course this was when shit hit the fan.

I hear the scratching and jangling of armour as one of the Templas moves off. I'd been dozing lightly, trying to stay alert enough to stay awake, yet napping enough to rest.

And then my danger alert just goes haywire.

I wouldn't even need it, you'd have to be deaf not to hear the beast rushing through the woods towards us, a feline roar escaping it's maw as it crashes through bushes and low hanging trees. I try to jump to my feet as I hear the Templars do the same, but my bindings hold me fast.

The soldiers begin to shout and yell as one of their number yelps. Then he screams in pain. His comrade tramples through the the trees, training forgotten. Their leader yells for order before he curses, rushing after his men.

Sod this.

I cast Ice and freeze the rope tying me down, ripping the bag off my head as soon as I can. I blink rapidly to adjust my eyes to the dim glow around me before I can take in my surroundings.

I'm in wood, or a forest. Well off the beaten path by the looks of it. There's a fire a few feet away, and I can see travelling packs for the Templars strewn around, along with bedrolls. Close by lies a simple steel sword. I dart forward and grab it, before rushing through the under growth to join my captors, keeping the partially frozen rope on hand.

When they come in sight, I can't help but shout my surprise. "A fucking Cougar?" I stare at the mountain lion, a limp Templar hanging from it's teeth as it madly shakes him to and fro. His comrades have surrounded it with torches and blades, shouting and screaming at the animal. It growls at them ferociously, almost daring the men to claim their friend. My mouth hardens.

I move to the side of the Templars so they can't stop me and have to jump onto a small boulder to get an angle on the puma. It twists to face me, hissing aggressively. I hear a small whimper of pain from the man in it's jaws.

He's still alive! Christ, he's a hard bastard.

I whip out with the rope and it loops around the big cats neck. Acting quickly while it retains the shape, I send a wave of Ice through the rope and freeze it solid. The cougar screeches in pain as the rope fuses to it's flesh and fur, and it quickly drops the Templar as it scratches and claws at my makeshift collar. I tuck my side of the rope pole under my arm to keep my grip on before I twist, dragging the cougar away from the wounded man. His allies rush forward to pull him back before continuing on to kill the beast.

Suffice to say, with it being injured, trapped and it's prey getting away, the mountain lion is pissed. It lets out an almost unearthly snarl as it pounds at my Ice pole. One staggering strike sends the whole pole shuddering as it shatters. There's still a candy cane shaped rope-sicle around the cougars neck, but I'm no longer in control. It roars at the approaching Templars before it crouches on all fours. In the second it takes to notice it's looking at me, it's already leapt and collided with me. It takes me of my feet as I try to hold it at arms length, it's claws raking at my back and shoulders. We land on the ground roughly as the cat tries to disembowel me with it's back legs while trying to tear my head off with it's front ones.

I realise I'm screaming in terror as time seems to slow down. I feel my magic drain and freeze for a moment as I both revel and quail under the mountain lions ferocity. Rage seems to ooze from every pore, every follicle. That and power. It's weight is crushing and it's strength is staggering. It's body ripples with muscles, it's teeth gleam and it's eyes sear their way into my soul. I've seen big cats at the zoo before, but never like this. This is nature incarnate. Uncaring of plans or schemes. Uncaring of class of wealth. Take what you need, protect what you have. Quite literally, we came to the wrong neighbourhood.

"MOTHERFUCK!" I scream as I launch a fist into it's face, taking it off guard. I'm a Hero, my strength is as high as any caber tossers. It begins to arc backwards as I draw my knees back. With all my strength I drive my feet firmly into it's ribcage just as time resumes it's normal pace. The lion hurtles through the air before colliding with the boulder it had just taken me from. I launch to my feet, my blood pumping as he does the same. I raise my sword as he prepares to pounce. I'll wait for it too leap, and then stab it in the heart before it lands. Might even make a coat from it's pelt.

I smile, all wounds forgotten, only feeling my heart racing, my blood pumping. This is it. This is what I'm alive for. This adrenaline running through my body.

And then a thought strikes me and my mood evaporates.

Is it though? Is that all I want to be? Some barbarian looking for his next fight every day to get him through until tomorrow? Some monster?

I think there's something wrong with me. This isn't right. This isn't good. This isn't me.

My grip on the sword falters. My knees follow, slamming me to the ground. What am I doing? What am I?

I don't wanna be like this. I don't want to be someone who needs the anger and the hatred and the pride. I don't want to see people as means to an end, but I do. Elvha was useful to me as long as she taught me, but the moment she tried to take out the Hawkes... I never intended to let her live. Even if she hadn't blown up the mill, I would have quietly slit her throat before handing her to the Templars. If my experience with the Captain taught me one thing, it's don't leave unfinished business.

The thought of actually having mercy on a woman I called friend didn't even cross my mind until Malcolm interfered.

I never wanted to be this kind of man. Back home, I wanted to be a writer or a comedian or a teacher or something! I was a kid, I didn't know my career yet. I'd even pondered the idea of becoming a soldier once or twice. My mum was in the reserves, as a chef. But I couldn't do that.

Can't create. Can only destroy.

I become aware of just how very tired I am. How little I want to keep doing this. As the strength begins to leave me I feel the slight stings of my wounds. The lion has raised itself and is stalking towards me and I just take deep breaths.

"Come on," I whisper tearfully. My eyes are stinging and it'll all be tears in a moment I can tell as my nose burns as well. "Just make this stop. I just want someone to make this all stop," I plead with the big cat. It growls as it comes within spitting distance and I take one last breath as it stops mere inches from my face. The rage seems to have evaporated from it's face and I close my eyes, hoping it'll be quick as I tense my face up in reluctance and fear.

I wait for a few moments, waiting to feel a razor claw dash my skull, or a maw of fangs to shred my neck but... Nothing.

I open my eyes and scowl in confusion.

Where the fuck did it go?

I look around and can barely make out the back end of a big cat retreating past some bushes at a languid pace before it disappears from sight.

What? The actual hell?

A scream of pain draws my attention, and I leave the thoughts of the cat behind as I leap over the boulder I was knocked from. I stop and see a blood trail making it's way back to where the campfire is.

That's a lot of blood.

I quicken my pace.

I arrive back at the campfire and grimace. The Templar who was attacked is in bad shape. Blood everywhere and screaming blue murder. His comrade's trying to hold him down so they can help him. I wonder how they will before I see one of them dragging a poker out of the fire, it's tip glowing white with heat.

"WHOAH!" I shout in panic as he moves towards his fallen brother. He swings the power to me like an sword and suddenly all eyes are on me.

"HE DID THIS!" The possibly delirious Templar shouts as he paws and clutches at his leader's armour. I think he's trying to whisper, but his mind is scattered from the pain. "HE DREW THAT BEAST TO US! KILL THE APOSTATE!"

"Calm yourself Edwin," the leader says in a voice of steel as he holds an unmovable arm to his soldiers chest. Even in his agony the man listens, quietening his moans and trying his best to stop thrashing.

"I can save him," I say calmly. The leader glares at me, anger and distrust filling his eyes as he surveys me. "I can definitely save him. Let me help," I plead desperately.

"Why should I trust an apostate?" he spits suspiciously. I look at his fallen man and then back at him, my eyes glaring from under my brows.

"I came back."

The leader chews his cheek for a second. "Jorah, make room."

"Sir?" questions the Templar kneeling by his side. The injured man, Edwin, claws at him desperately. I can see his movements are becoming more lethargic, and his skin paling. He's running out of time.

"Move boy!" the commander shouts. Jorah quickly back peddles away, leaving the wounded Templar shivering in pain on the ground.

"Hold him," I command the leader as I kneel by the wounded man. His eyes are glazing over. "Edwin, I'm going to help you. My name is Sparrow, I help people."

"Apostate," he mutters shakily, strength fading fast. I rub my hands a little and flex my fingers.

"Grey Warden actually, but I can be a Doctor just now," I mutter as I crack my neck before laying my hands on his chest, close to the wound.

I've killed... many people in this past year and a half. More blood than I could have ever have envisioned in my darkest nightmares. Madness and fear. Despair and hopelessness. Rage and Hatred.

Darkness.

And maybe that's what my life has to be. Maybe I've always been destined for this dark path. A part of me reviles my actions here, despising and depressing me. Another part of me, a part that's getting louder and louder... Likes it. Revels in it.

I don't like that part. It's getting stronger and I'm terrified that there's going to be a day where that's all there is. Or, worse, I don't have anything to think about it at all. I neither abhor nor adore it. I just kill because... I can.

So this is me, balancing the Karma. I've barely been able to heal small scratches on myself, let alone mortal wounds on others. But I'll do it. Because right now, right this second... I can be a Doctor. Because I have to be. Because I still care. Because I want to keep that part of me alive for as long as I can. For the boy I was, I will fight until my bones are dust.

I look at the fallen Templar and I don't see him. I see Duncan and Tamarel and Darrien and Isabella and everyone I left back home. Everyone I care about. Everyone I'm fighting for.

Warmth travels from my chest, down past my shoulders and through my hands. They glow slightly, and wisps of white smoky energy dart about my hands. A little colour flows back into Edwin's face.

"Shoulders connected to... the neck part," I sing quietly under my breath. "Have you ever been in love Edwin?" I ask suddenly, partially shocking myself with the strange question.

"No," The Templar says drunkenly. I try not to focus too much on directing my energy in him. I'm just the battery, his body can decide where to put it.

"Ahh, tis a lovely feeling," I say with a small smile. "I remember, I was in love once. Feels like a long time ago but it really wasn't. I still miss her sometimes. Still crave her. Ever get those, cravings for people? I bet Hannibal would," I laugh to myself. "Aye, I loved that girl. I could have told you everything about her. From the way she eat her food to the way she panted like a puppy in her sleep. Better than my mother, who's snores could be mistake for an earthquake," I laugh, keeping my hands steady. "You love your family aye?"

"I haven't seen them... for a long time," he says with a small yawn. I nod in understanding as I look at the leader. His mouth is tight, and he watches me closely, looking for any sign of deception. I can understand that as well. It must be like me working with a darkspawn or something.

"Yeah... I can relate. I miss my family. If I'm honest, I've nearly forgotten the sounds of their voices. That's bad right? It's all fading from me now, like holding water in your hands. But in my dreams... they're with me, close enough to touch. I keep them here," I say, pounding at my chest before returning my hand to his. "I keep them all in here. That's why we're doing this isn't it? To see them again one day. To keep them safe. We're shouldering these heavy burdens for them, because if we don't, who else will? We'll see death and demons and we'll lose so very much. So very, very much. No one asks the cost of victory, especially not for people like us. But you know what? That's okay. In a hundred years time... no-one's gonna remember you and me. We're just gonna be dust flying through the sky. It doesn't matter that you're a Templar and I can use magic. We're all going to end up in the ground one day. And that's fine. That's life. If it didn't end eventually it'd be boring. The fact that it can end makes us savour every moment. And it's little differences that keep us from wanting it too early. You promise me one thing Knight Edwin, right here on what should have been your deathbed." I take my hands away and pull back his blood drenched shirt to show unblemished skin. Not even a scar. The Templar's eyes are heavy lidded, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was already asleep. "Remember it was a person who saved you, when he had all the reasons in the world to let you die. Remember it was a mage who could have walked away. Just... Remember that there's some good left out there. All we gotta do is find it and cherish it."

Edwin nods and freezes halfway through before a light snore escapes his lips. I smirk before leaning back, sitting on my ass and wiping my sweat drenched brow. That was exhausting! It felt pleasant during but now I'm gasping for breath.

"Is he..." The other Templar, Jorah, leaves it open ended.

"No, he's just knackered mate," I say, equally tired. Not exactly a quiet night.

"Thank you, Mage," the leader says, uncomfortable thanking me if his tight voice is any indicator.

"Don't mention it," I say, waving it away. He nods his thanks and looks to his man.

"Why did you come back? If you truly are a Grey Warden, there was nothing stopping you after you slayed the beast," the leaders says, his eyes sparkling slightly in the firelight. I look into the forest, thinking back to my close shave with death.

Why didn't the mountain lion kill me? It just... walked away. I'd given up. I was defenceless. Why? It's not in an animals nature to charitable. So what was that, if not an animal?

"In my experience Templar," I say tiredly as I lean back onto my elbows. "The world is a very strange place full of unimagined wonders and undecipherable mysteries and every once in a while things happen that don't make sense." I look at him and cock an eyebrow. "I believe your people call them miracles," I jest lightly, and I see a small smile.

Now, I'm not very religious but... I dunno. Maybe it was nothing, just a fluke and the kitty decided I wasn't a mouse to play with. Or maybe... It sounds stupid, but maybe someone's watching my back out here.

Hey, I've jumped realities, a God doesn't look that impossible. Anyway, I'm more agnostic than athiest. And that... is something that makes you consider all the angles. I mean... This whole Darkspawn business started because the Magisters entered Heaven. I always thought that was an allusion or a metaphor but maybe...

"Will he be alright?" The leader asks, motioning towards the snoring Edwin. I nod.

"He'll probably wake up tomorrow filled with energy and empty of food. I'd recommend we travel slowly tomorrow and give him a chance to rest. Should be good for the both of us," I say, my head falling back to stare at the stars. I smile like a simpleton at the tiny lights in the sky, almost feeling rewarded. Such pretty lights.

"I owe you a debt Mage," the leader says through gritted teeth. I frown. Debts are useful, when you're on the receiving end. And all I had to do was be a decent human being.

"It's Sparrow. I'm called Sparrow, " I say tiredly. I yawn and one of my arms folds, so I lie on my side on the grass and moss, feeling the heat of the fire, the smell of the earth.

"When I ask for it, give me your help," I blink away sleep for a few more moments. "Until then, I'm catching some sleep before we hit up the Circle. Night Templars," I mumble as I drift away into Morpheus' soft grip.

Last night I dreamt of a meadow. It wasn't anywhere I recognised, but that didn't matter. At my feet was a huge pond, with scum and lily pads and frogspawn and leaves and all sorts of detritus floating around. Surrounding us were tall trees, at least twenty feet high. And above them. Stars. Beautiful stars.

And there was nothing else. I just lay there, quietly soaking up the settling dew and just enjoying the sounds of a million creatures trying to get laid.

It was a good night.

See ya!