Chapter 27

The Logic of the Unpredictable

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Idiot!

That was completely unnecessary. What was he thinking?

It was the heat of the moment, an immature impulse, a childish gesture... A mistake.

It must have been that. A mistake.

Alistair was lying on his bedroll still unable to sleep, but for different reasons this time. If before he was upset with Kallian, now he was mad at himself.

She gave him a drawing, yes, and it was perhaps... No. It was for sure the most beautiful and affectionate gesture that anyone had ever done for him. No one had ever shown that they cared about him the way she did. Nobody! Not only with him, but with his feelings, his pain and with...

Him... Simple as that. Nobody had ever bothered with him before.

Kallian... Someone so determined, intelligent and independent like her, must have a place reserved for him in her mind. It was so hard for him to believe that she cared for him the same way he cared about her. It was very ironic that, of all the humans he'd met, even people of the same blood as him, Alistair would find the acceptance he longed for so much in an elf - a simple, humble elf, whose heart was big enough to sacrifice herself for the greater good of the country, which apparently only had ever done harm to her. Then, what he did he do? Tried to kiss her!

Kallian only gave him a drawing - she hadn't asked for him to... to taste her soft, tempting lips... The thought made him shiver. Still, he'd messed up and almost lost what he wanted so much. Idiot! And why? Because he'd found her beautiful, even in those old and worn clothes? Because, even without shoes and expensive acessories, as the women who very often attended Arl Eamon's fancy parties did, she was still the sexiest girl he had ever seen in his life?

Idiot!

He turned to his side. In the opposite corner of the room, Noah was laying on his back, frowning even while sleeping, with one arm over Shaw-Shaw, who laid sprawled beside him. Why the dog liked him, Alistair had no idea, but the affection was clearly mutual. When the small dog saw the Templar awaken, he rose slowly, dropping Noah's hand on the floor, who mumbled something incoherent before sinking his head into the pillow. Shaw-Shaw stretched lazily before walking to Alistair and dropping down beside him with sleepy little eyes, his tail waggy slowly.

"I almost made a huge mess, Shaw," Alistair whispered, stroking the dog's ears, who pushed his head against the human's hand "Heh, good boy." He smiled. "But ... If you knew what I almost did, you would want to bite me."

Shaw-Shaw raised his head and stared at him, ears standing up, as if waiting for Alistair to continue his story. Or at least that was what the Templar's groggy mind had understood.

"I broke the trust your master placed in me, Shaw," he said, slowly drawing an imaginary line from the top of the dog's head to the tip of his nose. "I dunno if she'll forgive me." His finger followed the opposite way back into his white pelage, trying to convince himself again that it had all been huge mistake and that, with luck, she wouldn't be angry with him. But even so, he couldn't avoid asking, "Will she forgive me, boy?"

His response was a very wet lick from Shaw-Shaw right inside his mouth.

"Ugh!" Alistair jumped up, spitting and wiping his mouth with the tip of the sheet, darting a betrayed look towards the dog. It was with a muffled bark that Shaw-Shaw took the chance and laid behind Alistair, settling confortably on top of his covers.

"That was part of your plan all along?" Alistair asked, but got no response. "I will lay upon you, don't think I won't. Get off of there!"

"Woof!" With another muffled bark, the dog spread out more comfortably by the bedroll, putting his head on the pillow.

"Argh, temperamental dog!" He sighed slowly, rubbing his neck.

"Dumbass..." Noah snorted, turning in his bedroll again.

Defeated, Alistair pushed Shaw-Shaw to the side as much as he could, claiming for himself at least the other half of the bed. Sassy dog. He could pick up the dog in his strong arms and take him away by force, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Your personality is as strong as your master's," Alistair said, patting the dog twice on the stomach. "So annoying, yet so..."

Captivating.

He turned his back to the dog, puzzled again. If what had happened in the library was a truly mistake, as he was trying so fireccely to convince himself, then why could he not stop thinking about her?

It was dark. Nothing could be seen, just black - the Void itself, if someone asked him.

Noah raised his hands, but could not see them, even when, in a brief moment of confusion, he brought them to his face to wipe his eyes. Still, he wasn't able to see where he was. Maker, it was so cold! However, there had no wind or cold breeze blowing to justify his jitters - it was like someting coming from inside, not outside. Even though he was fully dressed, he felt exposed, vulnerable, unable to move because of the chill that went up and down his spine as often as he breathed.

Moreover , he wasn't properly breathing. It wasn't like his lungs were functioning - There was no air for him to breathe - but he was alive, or at least he thought he was.

He was nearly resigned to his situation when a warm breeze hugged his back. As enjoyable as it was, it didn't reassured him, quite the opposite - the chills became more intense than ever. In turn, two green dots flashed in the distance, like two tiny flames that seemed to burn the pitch that filled the place. By narrowing his eyes, he saw that the flames weren't just incandescent points, but the evil eyes of some huge creature whose brilliance inspired wickedness, and warm steam was its breath, which smelled like a rotten corpse, if his nose was working.

His hands flew to his back, but he didn't have his sword. His waist, also had nothing. And the beast wasn't moving - it just breathed and exhaled its villainy essence all over him.

Noah then reached out, touching the cold muzzle of the creature. The hard scales were pointed, rough enough to cut the tip of his fingers with a simple touch, but strangely it didn't bleed or hurt - it just cut, serving as an open channel for the corruption to penetrate his body, spreading through each artery of his arm, slowly and painfully. Noah didn't cry, even after feeling his arm defragmenting. He'd found that he couldn't move or run, he could only wait and feel his body being dragged forward - directly into the mouth of the beast - as if he was bound to something.

His destruction was inevitable - it was cold again, very cold and the light was no longer enough ...

Light? No, there was no light inside those corrupted flames. Only hatred and chaos shining with such intensity, reflecting the beast's wicked feelings.

Cold; he could feel the teeth of the beast craving into his skin.

Cold; he could feel the acid corruption burning his solar plexus.

Cold; The beast ran through his mind like an open book.

Hot.

A light - yes light this time - had approached from behind him, and he didn't have to turn around to be sure. But he did it anyway, and what he found was a power source that was like the sun: orange, warm and comforting. It moved like a bird, and although it wasn't bright enough to hurt his eyes, it was so intense that it soothed even the deepest corners of his soul. Its light spread with every beat of its wings, breaking the grey chains around his body, hitherto unseen, that had been dragging him throughout the ground.

When the rays hit the muzzle of the dragon, the beast turned away angrily, snarling jets of green flames aimed in the direction of the strange orange bird, which faded out after touching its glowing aura. Soon, they were only two in that empty immensity of the Fade - Noah and the great flaming bird, which had the strange power of making the young man feel normal again. More than that, to make him feel good.

"Who are you?" Noah asked, stunned, but got no response. The bird just blinked his eyes, which shone like gold, before flying against the walls of pitch blackness and exploding into a beautiful sunset, which extinguished all the darkness of his dream and allowed a brief glimpse of the place where he'd been, before he could awaken: A plateau covered with flowers, painted with green trees and blue sky that had existed only with the sole goal to make its visitor oblivious to the abyss beneath his feet, waiting just one last step to suck him directly into the darkness.

Noah

I'll never forget that day.

I woke up to the sound of war coming from under the door - steps of heavily armored figures running from one side to the other along the corridor. It was impossible to sleep with so much agitation. To be honest, I even tried to convince myself that it was Templar business, and that it had nothing to do with the Blight, but I couldn't. Not after that strange dream.

Again I dreamed of the Archdemon - chains pulling me into the abyss, straight to the heart of the Darkspawn horde; All the evil that blasted dragon emanated, the suffocating darkness that surrounded me wherever I looked...

I knew very well that it wasn't the first, the second, or even the last nightmare I would have with these vicious beasts, but still I couldn't help but be intrigued with that strange creature.

Incidentally, I was also intrigued at how well I was able to remember the Fade - just as clearly as I could see the room I was in now - every detail, every feeling, every touch... All etched in my mind as if it was a memory of something that had happened just the day before. I wasn't a mage, nor had any magical ability, but still, that night I walked into the paths of the Fade like one of them.

After the third group pass by our door, I'd decided that I couldn't stay there any longer. The rain was still falling hard, but it didn't lash the windows with the same force, nor threaten to topple the trees as it had in the day before. There wasn't lightning cutting the sky, but still I had the impression that there was a storm inside the room - the Stupid snored like a pig with asthma, hugging the dog as he slept. I don't know how Shaw-Shaw could stand that troll puffing on his ear. By the time he'd returned to the room, I couldn't say that I hadn't expected it to be any different. I just pretended I hadn't had seen him entering the room with the first rays of the morning, because frankly it's none of my business, and even if it was, I didn't care.

Anyway, I wore my new armor - after taking some parts off, of course - with a strong feeling tightening my chest. It was a different anxiety, constant, not mingled with pain or with any other feeling I was familiar with, and because it was different from anything that I'd ever felt, it bothered me a lot. All I knew is that it was related to the fire bird of my dreams.

If he was a threat like I would have expected, I think I'd be feeling better, but no - it seemed that peace itself emanated from its body, and everything it touched had became strangely pure, tranquil. He saved me from the abyss, from the heart of darkness, but why? What was it?

Most important: Why its presence was so familiar?

I couldn't explain it, but it was like I already knew that bird. As if I had seen him before, like a sort of inverse deja vu: Although I had never seen it in my life, I felt that its ... energy - yes, maybe I can put it that way - I'd known it long time ago. Simply familiar.

It meant something. Trouble, probably, but it mattered not: if it was strong enough to stir my senses, it was enough to get my full attention. I never ignore a bad feeling, and if my guts told me that I had to leave, then it was because I had to leave.

In the end, I ended up going after the elf, not to share my dream, but to try to convince her to pack up her things and leave this city. If she didn't believe me, then I would leave on my own.

Kallian

I dreamed about Denerim again. It was late at night, the city lights were lit and shone suffocated by darkness.

There was no torture.

It was the first time that it had ever been night in the Fade, and that terrified me at first. I mean, I have a problem with dark places, so I couldn't help but think the worst. To my greatest happiness and my deep concern, nothing had happened. I thought I'd seen a lion, I thought I'd seen a dragon, but in the end it was just me and the gray skies of Ferelden. Even though I had lost consciousness for only a few minutes, it was enough for me to wake up trembling atop a puddle of sweat.

"Da'shal?" Mahariel whispered, still lying on her bedroll. I could see her green eyes staring at me seriously through the light of the thunders outside.

I was shaking like a leaf, my head buried in my hands. My eyes were still tired from the long exposure to the darkness of the Fade, but my vision was clear enough to show me that she was worried.

"I'm fine, Eilleen." I answered, without trusting completely in my voice.

She looked at me, studying every aspect of my tired figure before saying, "No, you're not."

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, allowing them to linger behind my head.

"The ghosts do not let you sleep?" Eileen asked, sitting silently on her bedroll.

"Did they wake you?" I laughed without humor, hugging my knees. "No, I'm not afraid of ghosts. I believe that the dead can haunt as much as the living do."

"You'd be surprised," she said, and I realized something obvious that was there all along, but I hadn't noticed yet.

Eilleen had her own ghosts.

"How do you handle them?" I asked, resting my cheek on my knees as I watched her.

"I let them talk," she replied calmly as if it were obvious, but without arrogance.

It made sense, though I hadn't seen how this would solve my problem. Still, I decided to ask anyway, "And how does that help?"

"It does not." Eileen sighed. Her gaze lingered over Tamlen's bow - I think that was his name - before returning to me, sadder than ever. "I prefer to think that they just like to be heard."

I opened my mouth, but then closed it. Suddenly it was no longer about me, or about my problems, or about my nightmares. It was about consciousness, perhaps - our pain, our loss, our regrets ...

You know, I'd never thought about it, but I kinda wanted the ghosts to speak with me. I wanted to hear their voices again, coming from themselves and not from the throat of that damned beast. I wanted to know they were there, and what they had to say, that's it, if they had something to say at all.

Curious and worried about pushing her limits too much, I asked anyway, "What do they say?"

It took her a while to answer me, and when she did, her voice was just a muffled whisper. "I do not know ..." I could hear her sighing heavily. "That's why it is so upsetting." Mahariel lay back again, hugging her covers more tightly than necessary. "What do yours say to you?"

I also lay on the bedroll, feeling the weight of the world on my eyelids, but without any pretense of sleep. What did my ghost say?

The language of chaos - Death was his voice, and pain, his tongue. There wasn't quite a message to be transmitted, only a circle of infinite hatred that was renewed at every cry of despair.

I looked into her tired eyes, and the truth didn't take too long to escape from my lips.

"He does not speak."

Nothing more was said was that night.

- x -

In the morning, I'd heard several footsteps passing in front of our door. Heavily armored soldiers complaining about a Qunari, immediate reinforcements and a murderer on a farm, in the north of Lothering. Not that I wanted to get involved, but they definitely seemed to be in trouble, and while I decided whether if I should leave the room or not, I'd noticed a pair of hesitant feet walking in small circles in front of the door.

He was no guard or templar, because I couldn't hear the creak of his heavy armor when he moved. Maybe it was Alistair... He always had trouble with these things.

Alistair...

I hoped it wasn't him. I didn't know how I would face him after after last night.

Maybe he was just... thanking me. A hug or a kiss on the cheek, as I'd so often seen other people do. It wasn't logical to think that it had been something else, right?

Right. I wanted to open the window to get some fresh air, but it was still raining and I didn't want to mess up the room. And his feet were still restless, so sooner or later I would have to open the door.

"For all intents and purposes," said Mahariel before I could do anything, and I nearly jumped, startled. "I am not here."

I frowned, staring at her suspiciously. Something told me that her reaction was related to what had happened between her and Noah when they were alone, but it wasn't more than speculation since neither of them had said anything. When she showed no sign that she had any intention to explain, I asked, "Did something happen?"

Clearly puzzled, she stared at the window for a long time in silence. I was just about to give up waiting for her answer, when she finally decided to speak, soon after the feet moved away from the door. "I can not understand him."

I laughed. Definitely she was talking about Noah. "And do you think that I understand him?"

She frowned. "So it seems."

I laughed again, earning an angry look from her. I thought she would bite me, but it wasn't my intention to sound funny. "Ah, Eilleen ... Noah is unpredictable."

"That's the problem!" She said, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. "I can't see a pattern in his behavior. It's too frustrating to travel with someone like him. I do not know what goes on inside his head..."

"Do you know what goes on inside mine, then?" I watched her opening her mouth to answer me, but all I got was silence. I knew what she meant about Noah - I myself felt really uncomfortable in dealing with his bipolarity at first, when for me, he was just another bloody bastard. This, however, wasn't exactly my point. Her feelings towards Noah were much like my feelings towards Alistair. She couldn't see a pattern or logic in his unpredictable ways that could make their acquaintanceship comfortable enough for her to be at ease.

In the end, she just shook her head.

I didn't understand Noah either, or see the logic she sought so much as she had alleged before. Much less I was I able to understand Alistair, who in my opinion was much more intriguing than Grumpy. After all, somehow I'd always expected Noah's bad behavior, his taunts and provocations, but I could never say that I'd expected any of the Templar's attitudes until now. Alistair always acted against my expectations, doing exactly the opposite of what, to me, would be logical.

Noah and I existed in harmony, so to speak. On the battlefield, I knew I wouldn't find a better ally, and somehow, we worked very well together. But other than that, we had a peaceful coexistence, where one does not interfere in the other's life. It was almost a professional relationship, and honestly, I stopped worrying about him a long time ago.

But Alistair was different ... It was no longer a matter of merely coexisting, but more like actually living together, you know? He wanted to create a bond and made a point of, not just keeping me in his life, but also to have my friendship. Not to say that he cared about me as if I was his long-time companion. It was scary in a way, and I'd felt threatened at first because of it, but I kind of liked it.

Knowing that I had a friend in the middle of the mess that my life was now made me feel good. And I couldn't say that I didn't care about him too.

I meant every word that I said to him.

Although I still had a few reservations about having a human in my life, I couldn't say that I'd learned nothing about them in the almost four weeks of living together. I watched them closely enough to know a thing or two about their behavior, their manners and their personalities. So I just said what I'd felt it was right - my personal truth.

"I know that, for you, Noah is the villain." For the record, she flinched when she heard those words. "But if you ask me, I'd say he'd come back to save you."

"Kallian," she called me sternly. "He is human..."

"But he cares." I replied, waiting for the restless steps to return. Eileen couldn't contain the traces of anger in her expression, and again I had the impression that she was going to bite me.

"He. Is. Human!" The tone she used was quite alarming, but I didn't blame her. I understood her point of view, I really did, but I couldn't ignore everything that had happened between us. Everything that had happened last night. Everything that had happened since the beginning, and be sure it was a lot, far more than I'd ever expected to experience when I took those firsts steps out of Denerim. He was going through a difficult time, as we all were, and now I understood that. Now I understood what Duncan meant when he'd introduced us. As much as Grumpy still refused to call me by my name, I witnessed glimpses of his kindness during his outbreaks of bipolarity, which were so common at the beginning.

Actually, they were still there. One moment he wanted to throw me off the bridge, in the next he was defending me in the Inn. I was already seeing things differently - I just hadn't noticed it yet.

The medicinal herbs, back in the Dalish camp, his constant intervention against those who disrespected us, the fact that he always left a torch lit, even after arguing with us about the fire... They were all small clues that made me believe that he cared more than it seemed.

"Stop using your eyes, Eilleen," I said with conviction, not feeling intimidated by her furious look. "Behind that thorny appearance, there is a badly injured man. Such brutality is one of the ways he's found to face his pain. Don't let appearances fool you - deep inside, he is not a bad person. And you that know very well, because if you really believed in your words, you wouldn't be confused as you are now, hiding yourself instead of facing him. Am I right? " I stopped, giving her time to think.

She didn't need to say anything. When her gaze diverted from mine, I got my answer.

"So should I just pretend that nothing ever happened and start provoking him, like you do?" She rose from her bedroll, indignantly. "I'm not a hypocrite, Da'shal. His kin have enslaved mine for centures." She started to pace around the room. "Guys like him kill and torture my people - no, our people - every day." I heard every word carefully, and I must say that I was increasingly convinced that she was, to some extent, a reflection of my younger self. "I can not pretend that everything is fine, because I can never forget what humans have done. I can't pretend that I think that our coexistence is normal and acceptable, as you do."

If you are human, then you are vile, and if you're an elf, you are a slave.

They were two sides of the same coin - a true reciprocal. The premise was valid for both sides, and now I understood it, really, but I was long past the aggression phase. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a good person. Not really. I want to make them pay. The old man in the bar? Yeah, that knife was supposed to hit his neck, and it nearly didn't happen. My soul was not pure - revenge would eat into it everywhere like a contagious disease, and I'd had tantrums in the past that can prove my words.

But then you learn to judge. You learn to ponder. You learn to see, to hear ... You see that in the midst of so much wrong there are some things that are right, and this gives life you self-control - something that makes you stop before you hit, and makes you wonder if you really want to carry more blood and more deaths upon your shoulders. Even if the desire to get revenge for every small insult is strong, you simply stop.

I always talked a lot of shit, thought a lot of shit and threatened many people, but the truth is that it's been years since I killed a human. Except, of course, for the bad guys and the ones who obviously wanted to kill me. Self-control has served me well, and even though I never liked humans, very often I'd prefered to let my instincts guide me, and mistrust was my best friend. This human friend thing was still too fresh to me and I still had a bit of trouble in dealing with it, but overall, passivity helps to distinguish aggression from indifference, and in the end, you just learn how to deal with them.

"You have to find your own way to deal with Noah," I said, and then, Leliana could no longer pretend to be asleep. "The bickering is the way I've found to pull him out of the darkness of his mind and bring him closer of what I believe to be his true self. When we are exchanging barbs, he has no time to brood and relive everything that happened to him." I took a deep breath, never diverging my eyes from hers. "I know that, because for me, it's not different - all I can do is focus all my efforts in coming off better in the argument and making him lose." I smiled.

"This is madness," she growled quietly, tying her hair back into a high ponytail. Her armor was already on her body, so she was probably ready to leave if she wanted to do so.

"Really? Very well, then." I stood and walked until I could face her, untying the small dagger off my thigh and pushed it into her hands as soon as our gazes met. By a happy coincidence of fate, Noah's heavy footsteps approached the door again, so I could give emphasis to my words by pointing in his direction. "Go ahead - take this blade and kill him, if it will satisfy your conscience." My words were harsh, but I kept my tone low enough so only she would be able to hear. "Kill every human who crosses your path, and feed your beliefs with their blood. But know that you may rid the world of many demons, that's for sure, but know that among the impure, there will also be innocent ones - Fathers, mothers, sisters and children that will haunt your dreams and will only serve to keep the circle of hatred and chaos in which we live alive, and in the end, your hate will gradually turn you into one of them."

I saw Leliana open her mouth, but she said nothing. She looked at me intensely, apparently conscious of everything I said. She had a high degree of acquiescense in her eyes at my words, as was expected for a sister devoted to the Maker. I could risk to say that there was even a bit of admiration as well, but the last thing I wanted was to be was pretentious.

With or without her approval, I would finish my speech.

"This is no longer about Noah. He is only the beginning of what the future will bring to us - other people that we'll have to face, far worse than him that we will have to deal without our weapons." I took my knife back from the hands of Eilleen, who seemed to be too busy processing all the information to demonstrate any kind of reaction. "Eyes, Mahariel." I pointed to myself. "We are born with six well-sharpened senses - There's no reason to hold onto only one."

I didn't wait for her answer - just patted her shoulder and went out of the room to meet Noah, before he could make a hole in the floor with his pacing.

Thanks for reading! ;D