He was still feeling numb from the news. Still spattered with the gore of darkspawn. Still trembling from the after effects of a hard-fought battle. The worst was that he had been informed that this was not even going to be the worst of it, a pill that was truly tough to swallow.
The shemlen messenger Arl Eamon had sent told him of the unfortunate news that Denerim was to be the next Lothering. Theron's heart had leapt into his throat at the news, recalling with painful clarity the final words that Kallian had left him with before marching to Redcliffe with the army and felt the ghost of her lips on his cheek. He had thought that she would be safer in Denerim, the darkspawn focusing the main body of their attack on Redcliffe. They had all been horribly wrong. The Horde would make it to Denerim long before Redcliff and the allies gathered by the Grey Warden treaties could march to the city. He wanted to believe that the skeleton guard protecting Denerim under Aedan's care would be enough to hold the city until help could arrive. But that hope was dwindling quickly to nonexistence. If the main body of the Horde was at Denerim and it was only a token force here...
Then came the news of the sacrifice required to put the Blight to a permanent end. Riordan had volunteered for the task, but all of the uncertainty that having only three Wardens present in the final battle made Theron honestly afraid that the man wouldn't be able to succeed in the task. Perhaps none of them would. He knew that the Wardens had an uncanny ability to survive against all the odds, especially where darkspawn were concerned, but this seemed to stack the odds truly against their favor.
He hoped that Riordan would be able to make good on his intention to slay the Archdemon, but what if it came down to him and Alistair? Reluctantly, he had come to the conclusion that he would have to spare Alistair from that death. He was in a position to become king, and Theron knew that if Alistair died and Anora was left that he would regret it more than dying. The woman was a snake in pretty clothes, and he didn't trust the cunning guile in those blue eyes of hers. He didn't trust what she would have in store for his people if Alistair fell and the vengeance she would take on him for trying to disposes her.
Briefly he wondered what it would be like to take in the soul of the Archdemon, that final moment when his soul and the Archdemon's clashed for supremacy and then cancelled each other out. Would it hurt to die in such a way?
With these heavy thoughts plaguing his mind, Theron went to his room only to find someone looming over the lit fireplace. His hand immediately went to draw his blade, surprised that someone would dare to enter his room when the figure spoke, her voice calm and instantly familiar.
"Be calm. It is only I."
Theron relaxed, lifting a hand to scrub at his tired face when he recognized Morrigan. He must have been jumpier than he gave himself credit for to nearly pull a blade on the witch. Though he wasn't much a fan of her hostile attitude toward just about everything in the world, he still considered the witch a valuable ally. Many a time had her spells come in handy, though he barely trusted her enough to turn his back on her. "No harm done, but what are you doing here? Is something wrong with your room?"
She remained silent for a heartbeat, her gaze still on the fire. "I am well. 'Tis you who are in danger." Morrigan turned, fixing her yellow owl-like eyes on Theron, her fingers loosely threaded together. When Theron only replied to her gaze with a confused stare of his own, she continued. "I have a plan, you see. A way out. The loop in your hole. I know what happens when the Archdemon dies." Immediately Theron stiffened, disliking the cunning look that had now taken possession of the mage's face and the confidence with which she spoke. "I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed, and that sacrifice could be you. I have come to tell you that this does not need to be."
Suspicious was a vast understatement, and Theron felt the strong need to have his hands on his weapons again. How was it that she knew, when even he and Alistair had been ignorant to that bit of information until literally just moments ago? "Does not need to be? What are you getting at? Speak plainly."
Morrigan's eyes traveled to his nervously clenching hands, a slow mischievous smile forming on her face. "I offer a way out." She replied simply, gesturing toward him with an empty hand. "A way out for all the Grey Wardens, that there need be no sacrifice. A ritual…performed on the eve of battle, in the dark of night." Her voice was low, dark, nearly even seductive and still those golden eyes were fixed resolutely on Theron's own.
"What sort of ritual?" Theron could no longer keep himself from putting a hand on the hilt of his sword, disliking Morrigan's presence here more with every word she spoke. He did not like the sort of magic that these shemlen seemed to prefer, and had come to realize that the purpose of the majority of their rituals were not the peaceful kind that shepherded spirits of the dead into the Void.
Morrigan shrugged at his obvious ambivalence toward the subject, undeterred. "It is old magic, from a time before the Circle of Magi was created. Some might call it blood magic, but that is but a name. There is far more to fear in this world than names."
He mumbled an elfish curse under his breath. "I doubt I will be surprised to hear where it is that you've learned this ritual."
"It is from Flemeth, of course." Morrigan replied with an easy casual air. "I have known about it for some time."
"So, you've known about this the whole time?" Theron gestured behind him into the hall, indicating the general direction in which Riordan had summoned he and Alistair to impart the bad news. It shouldn't have been a surprise. Flemeth had known about the ancient Grey Warden documents, had kept them in her house under close study for who only knew how long. It shouldn't have been a surprise to find out that she also knew the steep price for slaying an Archdemon once and for all. "You knew about the sacrifice before Riordan even told us, and yet you decided to keep it to yourself."
"I did. Would you have believed me if I had been the one to tell you? I have my doubts." Here, Theron could agree with the witch. He hardly believed it even when Riordan had been the one to tell him.
Still, the whole situation was making his ears itch. "Old magic is never as simple as waving your hands and speaking of good intentions. It always comes with a price."
"Perhaps." She inclined her head slightly, but by her tone seemed no less determined to make Theron hear her out. "But that price need not be so unbearable, especially if there is much to be gained. All I ask is that you listen to what I have to offer, nothing more."
He was silent for a long moment. His first thought was to outright deny the witch, but the words would not come to him. An echo of a soft voice quietly asking for his safe return stopped him. Feeling defeated and with a great amount of trepidation, Theron finally gave in. "Fine then. Tell me what it is that you've planned."
Morrigan did not smile, but he could tell that the witch was at least pacified by his response. Silently, she walked over to the bed and sat upon it before meeting his gaze again, laying her palms down on the sheets. "What I propose is this: lay with me. Here, tonight. And from our joining, a child will be conceived. The child will bear the taint, and when the Archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon. At this early stage the child can absorb that essence and not perish. The Archdemon is still destroyed, with no Grey Warden dying in the process." She was using her best persuasive tone, speaking slowly and deliberately so that Theron would miss nothing, so that he would understand what it was she asked of him.
The blood drained from his face, and the denial that had been so reluctant before welled up quite suddenly. "No. You can't expect me to do this." Theron turned, shaking his head. Having a family was never one of his priorities, and even less so after his life had been torn asunder by becoming a Grey Warden. It was hard to imagine yourself loving somebody when you knew that death was literally waiting around every corner. But to lay with the witch? No, never.
Morrigan shifted behind him, a frown on her face. "Do not be so hasty to turn down this offer. Think of being able to face the Archdemon and live. To be the only Warden in history that could claim the glory of being able to defeat one and live to tell the tale? More importantly, what if you could survive to be with that woman from Denerim?" She did not miss how Theron stiffened visibly at the mention, quickly turning to face her with a dark glower on his face.
"What would you know of it?" He asked without thinking, the sinking feeling in his heart already beginning to work against his resolution to have nothing to do with this ritual. Kallian's soft plea for him to come back safe rang in his ears as if she were standing there in the room. He had felt her fear for his life in the way that she gently touched his face, and knew that hearing of his death would break her. The strong little woman who had already lost so much and yet continued to stand proud against all opposition…
Suddenly, Morrigan had been given all the advantage in the world and leaned forward slightly, black hair brushing against her long lashes. "She would be disappointed if you died, wouldn't she? What would you give to see her again? The Warden's fate does not have to be yours, Theron. I can make that possible." She let him think it over for a while, the elf's expressions that played across his face just as telling as the silence that he declined to break. "So, what will it be?"
•º•.•º•
Power crackled in her hand, the cool wash of the Fade rushing to coalesce in her palm where it became a snapping whorl of white-hot fire. The darkspawn storming the gate only saw a flash of flames before it hit them, not even having time to scream before they were reduced to an acrid pile of foul smelling ash. The power rushing out of her drained her reserves and she staggered, clutching to her staff in order to remain upright and panted heavily, striving to maintain a steady source of power that was slipping from her grasp with every passing second. She could feel Fortitude there, hovering just beyond the Veil that separated the world of the dead from the world of the living, a silent witness to what was going on.
With a shiver that had nothing to do with the hot muggy air, Solona tried to shake off the chill of the Fade. Lyrium sang in her veins, drawing her even closer to the Fade, but she could only wonder at what cost. The next shiver that wracked her frame wasn't borne merely of exhaustion, but welled up from the depths of her soul, bringing with it another wave of unnatural chill that felt like death itself reaching up to try and pull her down into the Void.
The Veil was thinning at a horrifying rate in her little corner of the world. She knew it as much as she knew that she was breathing. The Horde swathed through their defenses with a bloody vengeance, crushing any opposition under the collective weight of their bodies. The death all around her was assaulting the very fabric of reality. Her efforts toward survival were only worsening the matter. Her spells came on more powerfully than she could ever expect, and while that was a boon when facing untold numbers of darkspawn, just the tinniest slip up would be made all the more dangerous because of the untold power.
A barrier had hastily been erected from shattered wagons and any debris that the soldiers could find, and it had steadily been reinforced with piles of darkspawn corpses. A roar sounded from the other side of the macabre line of defense and it suddenly exploded inward. An ogre came rushing through, a genlock dangling lifelessly from its horns where it had been run through. A horrifying chorus of screams filled the air as men were crushed by flying debris. Solona barely managed to deflect a flying chunk of wagon when it came screaming through the air with deadly intent. At the front the men rallied against the new threat. The group of soldiers still left alive gathered in a tight wedge. Among the spray of blood and body parts that resulted from the controlled charge into the disorderly lines of the darkspawn was Aedan, dark blood splattered across every available surface of his armor. Gleams of red flashed from his sword, the combination of the red skies and the blood streaming from the blade dulling the silver gleam. The wave broke on their front line, and in the brief lull Aedan called the retreat.
"Fall back!" He had to practically scream to be heard over the chaos, raising his sword in the air and making a circular motion with it. This was not the first time that the men had received such an order. They had been pushed back first from the main gates of Denerim after a day and night holding strong against the horde. The darkspawn had siege engines though and had broken through their heavily fortified defenses. Piles of dead darkspawn lay outside the city walls in heaps and mounds, but it had seemed to make very little difference in their numbers. Once the wall broke they had been retreating to any number of fallback points that served as hastily constructed choke points. Once inside the wall though, the darkspawn were proving to be night unbeatable.
The small force that Aedan had been left with to defend Denerim had been further split up into smaller groups. The elves had retreated into their Alienage when the wall broke and locked the doors behind them. Aedan sincerely hoped that it would be enough. His soldiers had been divided in half when the horde charged through the wall. One half had been driven into the marketplace and Aedan had no idea if they had survived the attack or not. His half had retreated across the western most bridge and had succeeded in holding their position for a good while. The bridge served to funnel the horde into smaller numbers across its small width, evening the odds just enough to hold their ground. Eventually the darkspawn had simply abandoned the idea that the bridge was the only way across the river and had started floating over through the Drakon and up the banks of the river on the defender's side. They ran out of arrows long before the darkspawn could breach their line of defense, and once their long-range attacks had been limited to the handful of apostates that had surfaced out of the woodwork to help in the defense, the darkspawn force became a tidal wave of death.
Solona had taken command of the apostates, the mages quickly seeing the sense of not arguing with a woman who was literally leaking Fade mist and was more than willing to put a bolt of lightning through anyone that even so much as twitched in the direction of disobedience. Politics on the battlefield were settled very quickly. It was hard to have a proper debate about the order of things when you were trying to keep from having your throat cut by thousands of deadly uncaring darkspawn.
What had started off as five mages had quickly dwindled to two. The darkspawn might not have been particularly intelligent, but all it took was one lucky arrow to end it. As the soldiers regrouped to head to the next choke point, a hail of black arrows rained down on them unexpectedly. The screams of dying men rang out over the clatter, but most survived, lifting their shields to create a metal roof that deflected the majority of the arrows.
There was a thunderous crack of power that suddenly ripped through the air. Solona whirled to see the other mage that had been standing just behind her suddenly split in half as if rent from the inside, the air around the man rippling as if with heat and crackling with a powerful charge of magic. When he rose to his feet he was not human, but abomination. An arrow stuck out of his neck, the wound obviously fatal had he not given into whatever demon had claimed him before his life all too abruptly ended. With a furious roar the abomination spread its arms and charged for her.
Fury pounded through her veins, fueling the spell that she cast to send the abomination staggering to the side, missing her by a wide margin in its reckless charge forward. The soldiers were remarkably unfazed by the appearance of such a creature. They were already one foot in the grave and were more concentrated on escaping certain death than being afraid. The abomination roared and tried to come for her again, but Solona let loose another powerful blast of magic that sent the abomination stumbling backwards again.
Straight at the incoming line of darkspawn.
She didn't wait to see what would become of the creature, leaving it up to the Maker what would become of the abomination. Hopefully the demon would wipe out the darkspawn that were trailing them and get killed in the process.
Solona ran with the soldiers, quickly finding Aedan among the shuffling mass of armored men as they fell back even farther. They were heading for Fort Drakon, the last defense for the city's survivors against the horde. "How many more holdouts do we have?" She gasped out as they ran, keeping up with the steady lope of the armored men, all of who gave her a wide berth. It was just as well. Even without reaching for her magic it was shimmering across her skin like a thin veil of water.
"That was the last one." Aedan replied grimly, his eyes always moving, keeping a lookout for any darkspawn party that might jump out at them. "Drakon is our last hope."
Or our grave. Solona thought with a strange calmness amongst the chaos. The chill welling up from her soul flared, as if the Fade were reaching out to take her beyond the Void already. At this rate, it was a race between the magic and the darkspawn to see what would kill her first.
They ran for the fortress, the bite of an approaching enemy at their heels spurring them onward despite the battle fatigue that had taken hold of them on. There was only so much that adrenaline could do, and they were long past the point of exhausting their reserves. Still they ran. Stopping meant death, and that reality was enough to push them well past the thresholds of endurance.
The sounds of battle exploded in front of them suddenly as they came upon a cross roads in the main path toward the fort. In the square there was a small rag-tag group of soldiers fighting off a horde of the darkspawn that had managed to penetrate far into the inner city well ahead of the fleeing men that Aedan led toward what they could only hope was their salvation. Without a pause in stride, Aedan dashed forward and struck low one of the hurlocks that had its back turned to him. The others following him struck down the closest darkspawn in a sudden wave of ferocity, providing much needed relief to the small knot of defending humans.
Mage fire crashed down on the darkspawn starting to come up from a side street, blocking it off from further intrusion and the darkspawn in the square were finished off by the combined forces. Among the shifting and confusion of the dying battle, a familiar face stuck out for Solona, and her eyes widened in sudden disbelief.
"Derik?"
The Templar turned, his armor coated in darkspawn blood and his sandy brown hair matted with more of the black blood and his own sweat, his face sooty from the ash of the burning town. As soon as he saw Solona however, a wide grin cracked his grim battle visage. "Sola!"
She wasn't sure if she should cry with relief or scream in frustration. "What are you doing here?" Solona asked, her voice bordering somewhere between exasperated tears and barely restrained joy. Aedan was at her side quickly, sizing up the Templar and the two men exchanged cordial nods of respect. There would be no fighting between them.
"Well, you know, killing some darkspawn. Saving these louts," He gestured toward the other men that had been fighting with him, the Denerim guards frowning at their casual dismissal by the Templar, though none argued. "I was hoping I'd see you here, though admittedly under better conditions."
"Why were you looking for her?" Aedan asked abruptly, his tone light, but his gaze hard.
Derik shrugged as if it didn't matter. "Templar business, Your Grace. Though it's been interrupted by the lovely horde we seem to have on our doorstep now, so I'm afraid it will have to wait until a slightly more proper time to perform my task as the Order dictates."
Both Solona and Aedan looked slightly taken aback by the proclamation. They had been under the impression that they were safe from Derik of all people. The Templar's easy smile did nothing to comfort them in the wake of his words. "So, if you don't mind, I think it would be best if we teamed up. Are you headed somewhere in particular?"
Aedan recovered quickly, taking a small step forward. "To the fortress. We've exhausted all of our other fallback points. The darkspawn just… keep coming." Grim faces all around nodded in understanding.
Derik surveyed the scene of hopelessness around them with a cool unruffled gaze rivaling that of Aedan's and drummed his fingers on the severely dented helmet strapped to his belt at his side, rendered useless by the depth of the dent. "Well, no point in hanging around now, is there?"
Without another word the Templar headed off toward the direction of the fort, following the main roadway up the hill that led to the imposing tower. Those that were in his group originally followed readily, the soldiers from Aedan's band hesitating a moment before following as well. Aedan and Solona hung back a moment and shared a quiet look that conveyed all that needed to be said in this new development. Their hands touched briefly in a gesture of reassurance, and they too joined the group heading for the tower. Their last hope.
•º•.•º•
Denerim was in shambles. That was the best way to describe it. Kallian had taken up a station on the roof of a house, bone weary but unwilling to give up. They had protected the Alienage as best they could, the gates that had meant to protect the humans from the elves during times of hardship and rebellion working just as well to protect those inside the Alienage from the darkspawn that ravaged the rest of the city. From her point of view, Kallian could see over the walls that surrounded the Alienage, could watch as Denerim was slowly engulfed in flames and war. She had no idea how Solona and Aedan were faring. Aedan had sent her to protect the Alienage when he saw that the darkspawn were gathering on the horizon, and she hadn't heard word from him since.
They'd had only two day's worth of knowing that the Horde was coming for them and not going toward Redcliffe. The news had been received entirely by chance, a handful of traders trying to seek refuge from the growing darkspawn threat in the south having come with the dire information. In the scare time allotted, Aedan had ordered what men were left to him to set up what fortifications they could. They fortified Denerim's walls by digging trenches and laying them thickly with a barrier of sharpened logs gathered from the nearby forests. Every smith had been gang pressed into making weapons for the resistance, and materials had been scavenged from anywhere they could get them. It had been a scramble, but by the time the darkspawn had arrived fully to make their stand, they had been ready as ever could have been expected.
Kallian had hoped that when the initial surge was broken without the darkspawn ever breaching the walls that they could hold out until help came. That hope had diminished when the darkspawn continued to attack them into the night. The final shattering blow of confidence had come when a great dragon had risen out of the forest. Its breath had been death, and with the arrival of the Archdemon came the break that the darkspawn had needed to pour in through Denerim's front gates.
Now it was a struggle to simply stay alive. The Alienage elves were not skilled with weapons, but they weren't giving up either. Shianni had rallied anyone that could hold a sword or shoot a bow and directed from below. Kallian was the eyes and ears, she and her small force of Knifers serving as a strike force when the darkspawn came in too great of numbers for their meager defenses to deter.
They were in a lull in the battle now, having just repelled a small force of stragglers that hadn't been bombarding the dwindling forces of fighters left that had been members of Aedan's token force. The soldiers left in Denerim had broken into groups, the chain of command apparently having been rent somewhere along the way. A group of warriors had been fighting at the gates with all of their might after a large number of darkspawn had already entered the city and started razing it. Currently, they were being slaughtered at the front gates, the force the darkspawn presented proving too much for the outnumbered humans to manage. The other half had retreated back into the city when they were outnumbered and outflanked, the front line receding farther and farther into the heart of Denerim until Kallian could no longer keep track of it. She didn't know what had become of them, but assumed by the spreading fires that they were dead or very nearly there by now.
Her eyes drifted over the horizon, a nervous habit that only ever kept leading to disappointment. She kept hoping that she would see reinforcements on the horizon, that the armies Theron and Alistair had gathered would finally come in to back them up… but so far every time she'd looked she'd only seen more darkspawn teeming like a living carpet, covering the land with their taint. Overhead, the Archdemon took flight with a roar and she reflexively ducked, watching as the corrupted dragon swooped over the city, lighting fires as it pleased. The creature suddenly seemed to become distracted, rearing up from its wanton destruction of Denerim to fly high over the city, its gaze directed toward the hills that Kallian herself had often looked out over. She followed its gaze and her heart stuttered in her chest, feeling something that suspiciously was reminiscent of hope at the sight.
There was an army on the horizon, but not the disorganized mass of darkspawn that she was used to seeing. It was an army with armor and marching in organized lines, heading steadily their way. The Archdemon bellowed out a challenge, swooping over the city and the darkspawn all around them gave out an answering cry. Quickly, Kallian descended from her place on the roof, dropping down into an alleyway below and rushing to the square around the Vhenadahl, the resistance silently sitting beneath the boughs of the giant tree and attending to weapons or injuries.
At her hasty entrance they all perked up, worry passing over the entire group of distraught elves. Shianni came forward first, her brows knitted together with worry. "What comes?" She asked, gripping her bow tighter.
"Good news!" Kallian called so that all could hear, her voice breathy from running. "The forces that went to Redcliffe have returned! They're marchin' this way right now, I saw 'em!" The news was greeted with a round of cheering from those who still sat around the Vhenadahl, the relief that they all felt when it was heard that help had finally arrived clear on their faces. The joy didn't last for long, however, as Oen came running around the bend, looking decidedly less cheerful. Everyone quieted when the tall lanky elf ran up, immediately becoming silent and worried again.
"Darkspawn at the gates!" He cried, heaving from having to run all the way from the Alienage entrance to get to them before the darkspawn could set upon them. "And there's an ogre with them this time!"
Kallian knew immediately what that meant, and didn't wait for the others to mobilize. She took off toward the gate that Oen had been stationed at to watch over, Shianni and the others following quickly in her wake. When she got there, it was to find the archers stationed to watch over the gate already in action, firing at a mob of darkspawn that had suddenly appeared from the marketplace, intent on trying to cut through their defenses. A fireball exploded on one of the platforms on either side of the gate, sending the archers standing there flying away from their post, either dead on impact or dying when they hit the ground flaming.
Kallian was swearing a blue streak, and Shianni wasn't far behind in adding her own curses to the mix. "Emissary." Kallian spat, looking over her shoulder to Oen. Rido and Sticker appeared now, hearing the commotion and coming in as reinforcements for the battle that would without a doubt ensue. "Shianni, try and keep a suppressive fire on the damned darkspawn. I'll see what I can do about sneaking behind the lines and taking out that Maker-damned emissary." Shianni nodded and quickly put those archers who had accompanied her to the task of keeping their meager defenses from being breached.
Once she saw that Shianni had things under control, Kallian slipped into a back alleyway, Oen, Rido and Sticker quick to follow on her heels. The four of them used the shadows to their advantage and skillfully moved around the battle until they were near the river. The ogre that Oen had talked about was still on the other side of the bridge with a whole crowd of darkspawn surrounding it. The Emissary was directing spells toward the gate in an effort to simply blast it away before the ogre got there. Kallian was frustrated to note that so far, it was being astonishingly successful.
Silent as a shadow Kallian moved from the protection of the buildings and slipped without notice behind various crates, boxes, piles of arrow-stuck bodies and other debris of battle toward the Emissary trying to batter down their gate. Behind her she knew that the others waited for a signal from her, and got as close as she could. There was still a great amount of distance between herself and the Emissary. She would have to hope that the Maker would keep her from getting pinned full of arrows on the way over. But it was a risk she would have to take. To not take it would be to damn all of the others in the Alienage behind the gate fighting for their lives.
With a deep steadying breath, Kallian collected herself, her dueling swords in hand and waited until a rush of genlocks passed her. The path was clear. She flicked her hand, knowing the others would see the motion and rushed forward in an explosion of motion, a shadow suddenly drawing up from the wreckage at the side of the gates with fury and deadly intent. The Emissary didn't see her coming at first until the first blade sliced a clean line of black blood straight up its side from thigh to armpit. Howling, the creature turned abruptly to hit her with its staff, but Kallian was more nimble than the darkspawn mage could ever hope to be. She neatly sidestepped the attack, around the back of the darkspawn again and stuck her dagger deep into the fleshy muscles of its shoulders, ripping her blade sideways in a spray of blood.
The others that had been following her moved out of their hidden positions as well and in a flurry of blade and blood the Knifers struck the unwitting darkspawn at the Alienage gates, creating a bed of bodies immediately in the wake of their reveal. Other darkspawn further behind the group nearest the gates cried out in rage and rushed forward, only to be met by a focused organized attack from the rogues. They elves didn't stay for long, however. They were outnumbered ten to one and their strategy was not to fight until the bitter end. Kallian blew a sharp whistle and the rogues scattered. Just overhead the whistle of arrows sounded sharply through the air and the gaggle of darkspawn that had engaged the elves suddenly found themselves with arrows sticking out of them.
The Knifers retreated back to the safety of the houses, slipping into crevices and gaps to small for the unwieldy darkspawn and scaled the houses with familiar ease, dropping back down on the other side of the protective walls.
Kallian drew a deep breath, wiping the burning blood off her skin with a dirty rag purposed for such a thing and scrubbing herself clean before going to join the others at the front lines. Cries of agony on both sides of the gate rose through the air as the darkspawn archers returned fire, striking many an unlucky elf. She ducked into the chaos, helping the wounded away from the scene to be replaced by another archer or warrior and tended their wounds as best she was able. She was no healer, but she'd been in enough scrapes to do them some justice if it wasn't too bad.
A cry of "Ogre!" had her turning away from the duty of binding wounds however, her blades in and rushing to the gate. The Ogre in question had crossed the bridge with a small entourage of other darkspawn, including another mage. She cursed under her breath and looked around for any of there other available Knifers, gathering them to her quickly.
"The Wardens!" Someone screamed above the din of the scrambling elves and everyone went to the gate at once. Kallian got herself on a roof, her heart thumping rapidly as if to beat out of her chest and she looked desperately for the fabled Wardens. She saw them crossing the bridge, Theron at the front with blood soaking the front of his armor and looking grim as ever. She had never been so happy in her life to see his fierce face.
The triumphant moment was ruined almost instantaneously. Out of the sky, the Archedemon swooped down with a terrible roar that shook the very earth. Some of the elves screamed when it came down, the darkspawn roared with delight, and the party around Theron quickly ducked across the bridge as the dragon destroyed it almost out from under them. There was no going back.
Determined as ever, Theron swathed his way through the darkspawn standing before them, Falonfen loyally standing beside him and tearing into darkspawn with vigor. The great stone behemoth that had accompanied them before was with them as well, and to her great relief she watched as the ogre roared a challenge at the dwarven construct and the two engaged in a fierce grappling match, saving her gate from the wrath of the ogre. Behind it all she saw the glow of mage spells and recognized the elderly woman who had been a friend of Solona's casting away from the relative safety of the foot of the broken bridge. A battle roar cut through the noisy haze of battle, and Kallian was surprised to see the stout dwarf with the flaming red beard looking surprisingly sober as he cut down enemies with broad sweeps of his axe near where the ogre and the stone construct battled. Theron left the dwarf to his own devices and went straight for the Emissary, tossing a flask of something straight at the creature where it exploded against the monster's chest and the spell it was creating withered and died without ever being cast.
"Come on, let's go help them!" Kallian yelled above the commotion and led a handful of her Knifers back down over the buildings and joined the fray. They cleared the area in front of the gate, wiping out the last of the darkspawn crowded in front of the gate. The gate was opened to allow the Wardens in then closed and locked behind them for good measure. They wanted no surprises.
Catching their breath after the battle, Theron and his companions looked around at the hopeful faces of the elves that suddenly surrounded them, though he was looking for none of them. When he spotted Kallian, his gaze remained riveted until she fidgeted uncomfortably.
"You guys have some great timing, Red Warden." She joked to alleviate the tension, and Theron shot her a rueful look at the jibe. He lost some of his intensity, for which Kallian was grateful.
"Not soon enough, I fear." He replied dourly and looked at the destruction of the Alienage, bathed in the red light of fires that raged through the town, reflecting from the haze high overhead, a combination of smoke and heavy clouds. "The Archdemon is more clever than we gave it credit for. The horde was hiding in caverns in the wilds. The force near Redcliffe was just a ruse. We were played."
By his short clipped tones, Kallian could tell that he was exceedingly irritated by the notion that a darkspawn had outwitted him, and so felt no need to press the issue. What was done was done, and the Wardens were here now. That would have to count. "Have you seen anyone else in the city?" She asked instead, changing the subject to a matter that still gnawed at the corner of her mind. "I don't know where Ammy and Basher went. I was watching the fight at the gate from the roof. The darkspawn broke through this morning."
He seemed surprised to hear that, his eyebrows arching into his hair. "They lasted that long?" Theron's tone conveyed that he was impressed, even if he wouldn't say it in as many words. "But no, we've seen little of those who were left behind. Some stragglers at the gate, but they were very few in number. Alistair is leading another group through the city, trying to catch up with the Archdemon. One of the Arls… Wolf? He holds the gate. Eamon and Fergus are clearing the city walls to keep more darkspawn from pouring in behind us. We will end this. Today."
She hadn't realized how sorely she needed to hear good news with such conviction, but the Warden's words eased a tension between her shoulders that she didn't even know she had. "Good luck." Kallian smiled mostly for his benefit, not really feeling it. It all seemed pretty hopeless with the bridge destroyed and cutting them off from the rest of the city. She hoped that Solona and Aedan were still alive somewhere in the city, but the thorn in her heart whispered that they couldn't be with all that was happening. It would simply be too good to be true. But she would keep up a brave face, the tiny bit of hope sparked by the Warden a point of light in the gloomy outlook of the future.
Theron looked at her for a long quiet moment, then finally reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder, his grip uncharacteristically gentle. "Whatever happens, know that I wanted to live through this, lethellan." He paused a moment as if he wanted to say more, then quickly slipped away, making his way through the crowd and leaving Kallian.
She stood still, surrounded by her people and watch him go, wondering if he had just said goodbye forever.
Ahaha! The Dark Ritual! But where's Morrigan? Is she with Alistair? Is she gone from the party? Did Theron just say his goodbyes? Find out next chapter, when the war ends! A couple more chapters, some Epilogues, and this story is done! Oh my gosh, can you believe it's ending? I can't, and I've been writing the ending since chapter 25. Also, no, there is no Arl Wolf. Theron was simply pronouncing it that way, and he means "Wulff". Again, thank you guys for all your lovely support. I don't know if I could push through to the last without you. The last chapters and an epilogue are already written, so I'll be updating again on Friday. See you again next chapter!