Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age. I only own my OC. I'm just letting him play around with Bioware's world.
A/N at the end
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~5~
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You know, I'm feeling very grateful for that work I did in the fields right about now.
Running through the dirt roads just outside of Lothering, I find my physical fitness is sorely being tested. I've never had to run for so long in my life but I find that I'm hanging with everybody pretty well. We've been at it for roughly twenty minutes with no foreseeable end in sight. I'm definitely breathing hard but I think I can keep going for a while. Even with the path of Darkspawn corpses strewn about behind us, I'm keeping up with Carver and Hawke.
Bethany is admirably keeping pace as well and is running right behind me. Leandra seems to be struggling a bit and is taking the rear behind Bethany. The only weak link in our youthful chain. She's really been a trooper thus far, though. The older woman hasn't lagged too far behind and Bethany has been there to help her when she really needed it.
Any time we needed to fight, Carver and Garrett typically dealt with the threat while Bethany and I hung back to protect our noncombatant. Bethany would throw a bolt of fire from her staff every now and then to keep the Darkspawn off balance and give her brothers the element of surprise. I'd contribute with one here and there too, though it would be inaccurate to say that I threw fire. I quickly found that my new staff shot bolts of lightning instead of fire like Bethany's.
It was surprising how easy it was to throw them, really. All I had to do was point the stick and basically think "shoot." The staff pretty much took care of the rest. Gleefully if my magical instincts are any indication. As I'm sure several charred Darkspawn could attest to by this point.
I'm finding myself thankful for the extra work because I know for a fact that I wouldn't have been able to do this when I got here. My body was not as strong as it is now nor did it have the level of endurance that I currently possess. This is the first time I had a chance to push my physical limits and see how fit I really am. I've been very pleased with the results thus far.
Regardless, we are starting to come to a narrow pass on the path with a few Darkspawn at our heels. My initial fear has died down a bit since I first encountered them and it doesn't seem to bother me much when my magic kills one. That's a surprise. Maybe all of the video games I play has desensitized me to killing another living being, or maybe it's just the necessity of taking life to survive in the moment. Either way, I find myself largely unconcerned morally with killing the blighted monsters. Not sure what it says about me as a person but I'll deal with that when imminent death isn't snarling in my face.
We pass through a tight opening between two jagged boulders and Leandra seems to decide that this was a great moment to trip over an errant rock. Goddamn it. She tumbles none too gracefully to the ground and causes us all to stop running to see to her wellbeing.
The Darkspawn, sensing an opportunity, hurries after our group with renewed vigor and rapidly approaches with weapons raised. With a pointed look towards each other, Bethany and I gather and throw simultaneous fireballs at the group of Darkspawn once the rest hit the natural choke point. With a healthy boom, the majority of the darkspawn pack fall to the magical fire. Two particularly hardy Darkspawn brave the flames and advance on the party with only minor scorch marks on their shabby armor.
Garrett turns and swiftly puts an end to the nearest assailant with his daggers. He does so with an acrobatic flourish that leaves me almost in awe. I've never seen a man move that gracefully before. Almost immediately after, Carver comes flying out of the air and slams his Cloud-sword down on the last remaining spawn. It messily cleaves the monster into two fleshy lumps that fall apart with a nasty sounding squelch, but it does the job. I find myself similarly impressed by Carver's strength much as I was by Hawke's acrobatics. There is something to be said regarding the raw power of the younger brother that warranted a fair amount of respect.
With the threat gone, Garrett calmly walks over to his downed mother and helps her up with a worried expression on his face. She clamps onto her oldest son like a lifeline as he gently hauls her to her feet. Hawke seems very distraught at his mother's distress. Hmm... I think this is the most emotion I've seen out of him thus far. Well, aside from heedless rage and suspicion, of course.
"I think that's all of them." Carver says, sheathing his greatsword.
"For the moment." Bethany replies with a wary eye still on the surrounding areas. I'm with her on this one. There's no telling when we'll stumble upon the next group.
"Maker save us, we've lost it all," Leandra sobs into Garrett's chest. "Everything your father and I built. Gone."
"At least we're alive." Hawke says in some attempt at reassurance. "That's no small feat."
"Yes. You're right." Leandra very reluctantly concedes the point.
"We should have run sooner!" Bethany says a bit testily before rounding on Carver and Garrett. "Why did we wait so long?"
Carver seems rather affronted. For good reason, I think. "Why are you looking at us? We've been running since Ostagar!"
"He's right, Beth," I say placatingly, earning a reluctantly grateful look from Carver. "We were waiting for them on purpose, remember?"
Bethany, to her credit, looks sufficiently admonished at my words. "I know but...there's just so much death everywhere."
She gestures to the burning Ferelden countryside to emphasize her point. Where it was once bustling and full of life, it is now littered with the still warm corpses of Darkspawn, villagers and soldiers, countless burning fields and several disgusting patches of Darkspawn corruption already perverting the land. I've lived here for three months and I am not unaffected by seeing the current state of what had been home for me. It truly is horrific.
"Is it wrong that I just want to blame something...anything for destroying our home?" Bethany asks in a small voice. I'm finding it hard to disagree with her.
"And you choose your brothers to blame?" Carver is somewhere between pissed and shocked at her words. Probably a little hurt too but I wouldn't know. "Are you daft, sister?"
"C'mon Bethany..." I start to say trying to boost her spirits, before I'm abruptly cut off.
"Not to interrupt," Hawke says quickly with a glance to several new Darkspawn milling about beyond the magical flames Bethany and I summoned. "But the Blight's not going to wait while we stand here pointing fingers."
"Please," Leandra chimes in. "Listen to your brother."
"Then let's go," Carver says with respectful deference to his older sibling. "Lead on, brother."
Well, that's new.
Carver always seemed to be at odds with Hawke throughout the game. Here they seem to be mostly on good terms and they work well together. Is it because Hawke isn't a mage? Or maybe it's a recent development given their time in the army together? My guess is that it's recent because I remember the brothers being at odds when I first met them. Whatever it is, Hawke simply nods and gestures us forward, taking point himself.
We all continue forward encountering several small pockets of Darkspawn along the way. They're all dispatched with relative ease using the same tactics as before. I'm noticing that the more I fight, the better at it I seem to be getting. The fireballs and bolts of electricity are less draining on my mana and it almost seems as if my staff is reveling in the activity. This is the most I've exercised my magic in one sitting and it really is holding up well under pressure. Color me surprised!
The group keeps moving forward through another narrow pass before Bethany speaks up.
"Wait!" She exclaims bringing the group to another halt. "Where are we going?"
"Away from the Darkspawn." Carver says. "Where else?"
"And then where? We can't just wander aimlessly." Bethany replies.
"So long as we wander aimlessly away from the horde, I'm happy." Says Hawke with unfamiliar cheer. There is a slight pause as everyone ponders the question. I already know the answer and who's going to say it, so I remain quiet.
Right on cue, Leandra speaks. "We could go to Kirkwall. In the Free Marches."
Hawke blanches a bit at the statement. "Well that wouldn't be my first choice."
"There's a lot of templars in Kirkwall, mother." Bethany sounds worried and fearful at the prospect of heading to there.
Leandra is undeterred. In fact, I think there's a bit of a wistful gleam in her eye at the thought of going back to her childhood home. "I know that, but we still have family there...and an estate."
Bethany gives a short sigh of resignation. "Then we need to get to Gwaren and take ship."
"If we survive that long." Carver snaps for no apparent reason. "I'll just be happy to get out of here."
I pointedly stay silent and follow the family moving forward. The conversations have started sounding familiar to me and I've decided to let them play out as they will. The end result won't change and I don't really have much right to be making any decisions for the family anyway. I'm more than happy to let someone else - most likely Garrett - take the lead and follow them in a support role.
Bethany, however, hangs towards the back of the group when we start moving again and she seems deep in thought. A frown mars her pretty face and I fall back a little to see what's wrong. Once close enough, I sidle up next to her and grab her hand in my own.
"It's going to be alright," I say softly with a light squeeze on her hand. "We'll get out of this and find a way to make it all work."
If I were trying to be reassuring or encouraging, it didn't work. Bethany still looks an odd combination of sad and angry that pulls at something within me. She doesn't turn me away so that's a good thing, regardless.
"I hope so Anthony," she responds in a dour tone, returning the pressure of my hand in hers. "I really do."
"I-"
"Oh look!" Hawke's voice rings out before I could respond much to my annoyance. Is he making it a habit to interrupt me on purpose? "We're under attack, what a surprise!"
Sure enough, there's a sizable band of Darkspawn directly ahead of us. My annoyance is quickly replaced with concentration as I focus on the new threat. My focus has gotten much better since my arrival in Thedas thanks to all the meditation I've been doing. An unexpected boon from trying to keep the demons out, but I'll take it.
Hawke and Carver predictably go to rush into the fray, but before they get there they find the vast majority of the darkspawn incinerated by a well placed fireball. I snicker a bit at their momentarily bewildered expressions. Sorry but I couldn't resist. In a moment that I'm not sure if I should classify as brave or stupid, I recompose myself and rush past them with my staff extended and jump into melee combat for the first time.
"You guys were taking too long!" I yell as I smack the nearest Darkspawn upside the head with my big stick. To my surprise, the monster immediately dropped to the ground with a sizzling electric burn right where I hit it. I quickly give my staff a questioning look and it just pulses cheekily in response. I swear it felt like the damn thing winked at me. Smarmy bastard.
Taking it in stride as I've learned to do with weird magical things, I whirl my staff like Bethany taught me and settle into a ready position as more Darkspawn converge on our position. Carver and Hawke make their way to my side and similarly ready themselves for the impending fight. Wait a second...if I'm not mistaken, I think I see a smile on Carver's face. That's odd. Carver doesn't smile...ever. What's up with everybody being different than I remember?
"Finally felt like fighting, Mage?" Carver says sarcastically, brandishing his greatsword at the Darkspawn. The smile on his face is vicious but his tone is light and good natured. Out of character from Ser Scowly over there, but welcome nonetheless.
"You guys made it look like so much fun," I answer in a similar tone minus the creepy smile. "I was starting to feel left out."
"Yes well, keep sharp." Hawke says joining into the banter. Though he shoots another wary look towards me, I appreciate the effort of joining the conversation. "I'd hate for you to die before we had a chance to get to know each other."
"Perish the thought, good Ser." I say. "If I die, Bethany would kill me."
As I left the two brothers looking mildly confused at my illogical logic, more Darkspawn approached with their ungodly shrieks. For the first time, I was able to get a real good look at them.
Up close they are best described simply as grotesque. They're twisted and full of unnatural aberrations that make your stomach want to leap out of your throat at the sight of it. They had no lips or eyelids to speak of and a sickly pallor to their skin that was practically sun bleached. Or more likely albino since they typically don't get any sun in the Deep Roads.
Everything about them screams out as wrong to me. Even their armor seemed partially fused into their skin. The very fact that they exist upsets every sensibility I've ever had. The damn things were terrifying, like something out of a horror film but far worse than anything you could ever imagine. This was not CGI or a clever use of mundane items or makeup. This was absolutely real.
The Darkspawn even moved weird, running in a spastic motion that only vaguely resembled a normal human being. It was a rotten pantomime of a human from someone who had clearly never seen one and the three of us met their attack head on. Carver and Hawke continued to dispatch the Darkspawn easily while I struggled more than a little bit. This was the first time I had ever been in a true life or death battle and I'm finding that it is much harder to fight in close quarters than it is from a distance.
The monsters were fast and smarter than they looked. They were quick to exploit openings and my inexperience left plenty. If it wasn't for Bethany's lessons I would not have lasted thirty seconds but I'm holding. A glancing blow to its shin buckled the beast and I got excited. Stupid mistake. I flipped my staff and swung wildly, trying to put as much strength into the blow as I could. However, the effort left me overextended. The Darkspawn parried the staff from its knees in a shower of magical sparks and swiped at my midsection with its clawed hand. Fuck. I cried out in pain as the digits hit home and sliced deeply through my unarmored torso.
Stumbling back a bit in shock, I unwittingly gave the Darkspawn all the time it needed to reorient itself and ready for another attack. It snarled viciously and appeared to have an almost victorious grin on its misshapen face as it approached. The gash in my side was bleeding profusely and it hurt like a bitch but I wasn't going out without a fight. Gripping my staff with one hand, I start gathering as much energy as I could for another fireball but the pain was making it much harder to concentrate. It was a struggle just to think past the gaping wound in my side. This was quite possibly the worst injury I have ever received.
Then, quite suddenly, it started to get much easier to draw on my power. In fact, it seemed to bolster the tighter I gripped my torn side. But how?
Before I could unleash the spell, a blade burst through the darkspawn's chest in a shower of blood and gore that flew outward. It just barely avoided me, and it's a good thing that it did. I still had an open wound and if any of that had sprayed on me...let's just say I am VERY lucky right now.
With a wrench and another squelch the blade was retracted and the Darkspawn corpse was unceremoniously kicked to the side revealing none other than Garrett Hawke as my savior. Great. He probably has something smart to say about my lack of battle prowess. Most likely he'll use it as an excuse to kick me out of the group or something.
Instead, he stands there for a moment giving me an inquisitive look. Like he's studying me or searching for something. Before I could say anything, a cry sounds out.
"You will not have him!" A deep feminine voice screams.
My head whips over to the side to see a rather muscular woman with flaming ginger hair on top of a hurlock, pounding its face in with her bare fists. Damn! That takes some balls. Wait, was that a tooth that flew out of its mouth? Wow.
The woman pauses in her assault just long enough to deftly snatch a sword off of the ground beside her. With no flourish or anything resembling wasted motion, she promptly brings the blade down on the beast's neck, decapitating it. Very businesslike, she leaps off the headless corpse and grabs a fallen shield emblazoned with a Sword of Mercy.
Shit. That's a symbol of the Chantry. More specifically, it's a symbol of the Templars. I need to be on my guard for both Bethany and myself if there are Templars about. But the woman isn't wearing Templar armor. In fact, she's not wearing any armor at all. Just a sleeveless tunic and vest from what I can see. Maybe she just picked it off of the ground from when the Templars left the village?
Fitted onto her arm, the woman raises the shield and backs up defensively to a fallen man in heavy plate bleeding heavily out of a large gash on his less armored back. Oh, that looks like it stings more than a little bit. Though my sympathy quickly diminishes once I notice what the man is wearing. He's clearly wearing the gilded armor and flowing skirt indicative of the Templar Order. During my time in Lothering, Bethany made sure that I'm able to identify that armor anywhere. Crap. Well at least I know where the shield came from.
"They will not have you," the woman says softly to the downed Templar while standing protectively in front of him. "Not while I breathe."
Wait a tick...I remember this! That's Aveline! Hmm...a bit more attractive than in the game but still muscular and kinda mannish. Not my type at all, but I remember this sequence. The Templar must be her husband, Wesley. Actually, I'm rather surprised it took me so long to realize who it was. A sharp flare of pain from the large bleeding cut in my side reminds me of the present and my own situation. Yeah, that's probably why it took me so long to figure it out. Fuck it, I'll let Hawke deal with her for the moment. In the meantime...
"Bethany!" I yell out in anguish, closing my eyes like a wuss at the pain. Don't judge me. The shit hurts. "Could you...mmnf!"
My eyes snap open to see Bethany kneeling right next to me with one hand over my mouth and another glowing faintly while skirting the cut in my side. When did she get over here? Was I that into Aveline's specific form of badassery to not notice her approach?
A soothing pulse of magic from Bethany's hand diverted my attention out of my scattered thoughts. So much for improved focus, huh? I could feel the power run up and down the area where my flesh was split open as Bethany called upon healing magic for me. I make a mental note to learn this spell at some point later. It'll add to my usefulness and quite possibly save my life in case I'm the only mage around. This arrangement most definitely works for me now, though.
Curious, I look down and watch as the flesh of my abdomen knits itself back together under Beth's hands in a really weird display. I was morbidly fascinated by the sight and couldn't look away. Like watching a surgery on TV that should make you want to throw up but you find yourself utterly enthralled by the procedure. The way the skin and muscle fibers snake out and connect to each other as if they were alive was seriously compelling.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had the feeling that this should be painful but the feel of Bethany's magic had a calming effect on me that brushed the pain back. I turn my gaze from the new hole in my tunic to a glassy eyed Bethany looking dead at me. Uh-oh...that can't be good...did I do that?
"That was a very foolish thing to do, Anthony." Says Bethany in an unreadable tone. "Brave but very foolish. You're lucky I got over here so quickly, you could have died from that deep a gash. Or worse, considering..."
She trails off a bit, letting it sink in how lucky I really was before speaking again. "Why did you run off like that?"
Oh that was definitely a little shaky there at the end. I must've scared her something fierce wading into danger like that. My head tilts down and this time it's me who is sufficiently admonished.
"I-I'm sorry, Beth." I say feeling no small amount of shame at making her worry. I look back up to her. She's not outright crying, something I'm very grateful for, but there is no mistaking the blatant hurt in her voice. "I just wanted to show that I could be useful. Maybe get your brothers to stop glaring at me...I don't know."
Bethany just shakes her head sadly at me. "Anthony, you barely know how to use that staff and you try to run into melee combat. Even then, you only have two spells and your staff to fight with anyway. Compared to most other mages, that is not much. You don't even have armor to protect yourself if you do wade into the fray like a swordsman. Can't you see how utterly stupid that was?"
Damn, well if you put it that way...
"It's our job to hang back and act as support to the boys while they do all the heavy fighting and to protect mother in case any get through until Garrett says otherwise." Continues Bethany without missing a beat. "I forgot that nobody told you how father trained us to fight together. Some teacher I am...just stay back and do what I do for now, okay?"
"Okay," I say evenly. "I just wanted to help...that's all."
"But you are helping." Bethany says with a small smile. "You've just never been in battle before. I'm sad to say that all of us have some experience fighting already. Life as an apostate isn't easy...as you're learning. It gets better after awhile. No easier, but better."
She pauses and the smile drifts away. A sad look appears on her face again as she looks to be lost in thought.
"After a time, anyway."
"Apostates!" An unknown voice cries out. Oh, here we go. "Keep your distance."
Finished healing, Bethany rises to her feet and looks to the Templar and his wife. Wesley has a hastily made bandage covering the wound on his back while Aveline is standing tall at his side with a supportive arm on his arm. The Darkspawn that had previously surrounded them lay decimated in mangled piles in their general vicinity. Hawke and Carver stood across from the married pair wiping black blood off of their blades with grim looks on their faces. Yeah, it doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened here.
I stand myself up as the entire group moves closer. I flex my right arm and inspect the muscles of my side as the motion pulls at it. It's a little tight but otherwise, it's as good as new. Meanwhile, Bethany scoffs derisively at the sight of the Templar.
"Well the Maker has a sense of humor." She says icily. "Darkspawn and now a Templar. I thought they all abandoned Lothering."
"That woman is an apostate." The Templar says with a grimace. Wow, gotta admire his dedication. Even with a shredded back he still finds the time to hunt wayward mages in the middle of a Blight. Oh joy. "I saw her perform magic to heal that man there..."
His eyes narrow at the staff in my hands.
"Who may also be an apostate. Two apostates." He takes a purposeful step towards us with a hand outstretched towards Bethany and I.
"The Order dictates..."
"Wesley..." Aveline pleads with her husband.
Wesley responds quickly. "The spawn are clear in their intent but a mage is always unknown." He goes to take another step towards us but this time both Hawke and myself step in front of him. Hawke looks over at me with a mildly surprised expression but he quickly redirects his attention to the Templar.
For my part, I stand resolutely next to Hawke. I'll be damned if I don't do something in making this oversized zealot back the fuck off. Who is he to determine if people should be walk free or not just because they can throw a fireball or two. Fuck that shit!
Wesley, to his credit, is barely phased by our little act of defiance. "The Order dictates..."
"Dear," Aveline speaks up again more forcefully. "They saved us. The Maker understands."
Wesley pauses for a moment and looks towards his wife. Aveline has an odd look on her face. I've never seen someone look so stern and loving at the same time. It apparently works as Wesley relaxes a bit and relents his verbal attack on us apostates with a nod.
"Of course."
Aveline, satisfied with her husband's actions, turns to address the rest of us. "I am Aveline Vallen, this is my husband Ser Wesley. We can hate each other when we're safe from the horde."
"A strange time to be hunting apostates. His fellows left with the Chantry priests." Hawke says, never keeping his eyes off of the Templar. All of us are doing the same - watching each other with varying levels of apprehension and fear. The Darkspawn has us all on edge and being faced with our natural enemies regarding the whole Templar-Mage dynamic only exacerbates the situation.
Wesley proceeds to answer and basically quotes the game exactly. No new information is gathered for me but it would seem that Hawke will be exhausting the "investigate" tab during most conversations. Bethany even gets in her quip about not questioning the "nice Templar" abandoning his search for illegal mages. Nonetheless, we are now joined by Templar who ran to Lothering to find his wife when news of the Blight hit and the wife who fled the battleground at Ostagar to find her husband once the army was betrayed by Teryn Loghain. It really is rather romantic if you think about it...even if he is a Templar.
Hawke, naturally is still largely wary despite hearing the couple's story. As am I even if I know that they're on our side for now. I do not relent in my glaring and Hawke follows suit.
"So long as you know that I stand with Anthony and Bethany, Templar." Says Hawke with conviction and another meaningful look towards me. I return it with a mild expression of surprise. Thanks for the vote of confidence Garrett.
Anthony approves +5
"Understood." Wesley says with a sigh of relief. No matter what he said, I don't think he was looking forward to fighting us in his condition. Well, he isn't dumb at least.
"For now we move with you." Says Aveline. "North is cut off. We barely escaped the main body of the horde."
"Then...we're trapped! The Wilds are to the south! That's no way out!" Carver yells, exasperated.
"If the options are south or die, I'll take my chances with south." Hawke replies decisively, taking further command of the situation. Say what you will, but the man is an effective leader.
With our now much larger group, we move forward towards what Hawke believes is south. I really wouldn't know to be honest. I've never been much of an outdoorsman myself so I'm following him.
As we move, the group continues to encounter more packs of Darkspawn that we dispatch with relative ease. Relative ease being the key words groups have gotten larger than before so Bethany has moved up to provide more active magical assistance to Garrett and Carver. I think Hawke called out something specific that Bethany and Carver understood, but I had no idea what was going on with the chaos of battle all around us. That's something I need to work on. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm starting to feel like a bit of a liability right now.
The more we fight, the more aware I'm becoming of my lack of experience. I might have started off well, but now I am starting to falter a bit. My arms are beginning to feel like leaden weights and my legs are like rubber. My breath is coming in raspy puffs and I'm not sure if I could continue this sustained effort for too much longer. Even my staff feels as if it is tiring a little to my surprise. The sparks aren't quite leaping at the same sharpness as they were earlier and I don't know if it's my imagination or not but it seems as if the staff is begging me for a break. No, it can't have a damn break yet! Not until we get the hell out of here!
Ow!
What the hell was that?! Something just hit me! I whip my head around looking for the source and find nothing. Weird.
You know, if it wasn't for my magic and how Bethany and I have become an item, I don't think I would even be worth the trouble of being in the party at this point. Which is the last thing I want to be thinking at this particular moment. Aside from being a distraction when I have things trying to kill me, it just isn't a good thing to be thinking.
I mean, if I think that I'm a weak link, then what must Hawke be thinking?
Looking at everyone else, the only one fighting who even seems to be a little tired is Bethany. Her breath is coming a little heavier too and I can see her movements start to slow ever so slightly as she supports her brothers and kills the occasional Darkspawn. Everyone else currently fighting is, or was, a soldier and they had the physique of one. Bethany and I have been working out to an extent but we've done nothing on their level. Mages tend to have a slighter constitution than warriors but they seem to have limitless energy. We've been fighting and running for hours by this point and they're bounding about as if they woke up from a nap. It's not fair!
Tired as she is, I can't help but appreciate the sight of Bethany blasting about Darkspawn. There is something about the way she moves while fighting that I find incredibly attractive even amid all of this death and destruction. Maybe it's the adorable look of determination on her face as she casts, or maybe it's the eagerness of her magic leaping and swirling about her that is simply captivating to me.
It also stirs up no small amount of jealousy.
I want to be able to do that. I hate being weak and a burden to be protected. I want Bethany to be just as much in awe when she looks at me as I am when I see her. The thought of surviving to make that image in my head a reality spurs me on and gives me a second wind as we round a corner.
Straight into a Darkspawn Emissary. Oh fuck.
The thing wasted no time and immediately started throwing little fire bolts from its hands at us. A half dozen Darkspawn armed with rickety old crossbows lined up in front of it and let loose their arrows at the same time.
"Everybody move!" Bellows the authoritative voice of Hawke as he dives out of the way of the volley of arrows. "Bethany take care of the Emissary! Carver and I will get the archers. Aveline and Anthony, protect Leandra and Wesley and help Bethany if you can!"
Without missing a beat, we all dart off to follow Hawke's orders. There is just something about that man that absolutely commands respect. Out of all of us, Carver dashed ahead and attacked first with surprising speed for a man his size. His sword lanced out and swept up several of the Darkspawn archers at once before they could even target him in a messy spray of taint and gore. Hawke nimbly made his way through the volleys, untouched, and started to deliver swift strikes to the beasts with the business ends of his daggers. One cut was typically all he needed and the spawn fell immediately. He was nothing if not efficient, though it scared the crap out of me how good he was at this.
Bethany was facing the Emissary one on one and they were currently engaged in what I could only describe as an epic magical battle of epic proportions. They were trading spells and enchantments back and forth with a ferocity that put stars in my eyes. The raw power that both of them had and the feel of such powerful magic lighting the air...it was a magnificent sight.
In the back of my mind, I was vaguely worried about Bethany having to fight this fucker on her own but it was quickly swept away. After months of training with her, I have the utmost faith in Bethany's abilities. I understand that she is not a damsel to be saved, no matter how much she would like to be sometimes. It just isn't who the world forged her to be. She's a fighter and this Darkspawn is utterly toast, it just doesn't know it yet.
Unfortunately, I don't know how exactly that particular fight ends as a disturbingly familiar screech lit up the air. Damn...more Darkspawn. If it wasn't for the rush of reinforcements shambling their way down a nearby hill, I would have continued to watch their battle. But that's life, I guess.
The darkspawn rapidly approach and I pick a few off while keeping my distance, hovering around my charges. I've learned my lesson about rushing into melee and mucking up the family's efficient formations. As a result, I hang back with Aveline to protect Leandra and the injured Wesley like Hawke said. Speaking of which, Aveline appears to be a very capable fighter with that sword and shield. She's hardy and resilient, but is obviously a protector of others more than a straight up attacker. She has been mostly providing cover for my ranged magic and viciously counterattacking anything that gets through Hawke and his siblings.
Siblings in the plural sense, because Bethany was now helping with the stragglers. Off to the side, I notice the Emissary lying prone on the ground with its head and torso blazing from a magical flame that burned bright and hot. It didn't even twitch.
That's my girl!
Keeping to our plan, this newest group was dispatched within minutes. Hawke hardly gave us any time to recover before directing us up the hill where the Darkspawn reinforcements came from. Geez, what a taskmaster. We just killed a damn Emissary along with its platoon of hurlocks. I get the life and death thing, but can we get at least a minute to catch our breath?
No sooner did the thought cross my mind before I could feel a mild tremor through the ground. Then it hit again with a louder shake. And once again with a boom instead of a tremor. What the fuck? Whatever this is, it can't be good. The booms kept escalating to the point where each time the ground shook, it was with a greater intensity than the last one. It eventually became a struggle for us all to stay on our feet. Somehow we all managed to remain upright but Aveline, in particular, almost fell to the ground several times from the quakes.
Before any of us could speculate on what the hell is going on, an ungodly roar heralded the appearance of a giant Darkspawn with wicked looking horns and razor sharp teeth on a misshapen muzzle like mouth that was dripping spittle all over the place. It was easily ten or so feet tall and had arms and legs as thick as tree trunks. It's skin looked rough and leathery with no discernible armor anywhere. All it wore was a filthy ass loincloth and the blood of what I assume to be its latest meal. There's no mistaking what this creature was...it was a motherfucking Ogre.
And it is charging right at us.
Oh god no...how could I have forgotten this part?!
The massive beast bounded its way up the little hill we found ourselves atop and gave another ear splitting roar in challenge. Glancing about the field, I could see everyone wisely backing up a step or two, most likely contemplating the easiest way to get rid of the damn thing.
Except for Carver for some reason.
He had this odd glint in his eyes that made it seem like he was about to do something absolutely stupid. It sent warning flags all through my mind and it didn't take long for me to figure out why.
Oh hell no, Carver, you are not getting fucking Corporal Jenkins'd by that asshole like you did in the game. But how to stop it? I'm still low on energy for the most part and I don't think I could take it down by myself in any event. Killing it would be ideal, but it probably won't work fast enough to save him without help. But if I don't act soon, Carver is toast. And not the delicious lightly browned and buttered kind, either. I'm talking about the burnt, hard as a rock and charcoal black toast that no one wants.
Thinking furiously in a manner of seconds, I come up with only one option. Damn, I don't want to do that but I can't think of anything else. I take a small moment to sigh despondently at my lack of options because unfortunately for me, there's only one thing I can do that might work, really.
And it's really dumb...Bethany is going to be pissed.
"OI!" I yell while throwing a weak bolt of lightning from my staff at the ogre and stepping out into the open, away from the noncombatants. It's not very effective...the ogre didn't even flinch but it did its job. "UGLY SONUVABITCH! OVER HERE!"
While monumentally stupid, my distraction worked and the equally stupid Ogre turns its misshapen head to look at the source of the noise and light. Once its beady black eyes find my own, the beast growls ominously and charges dead at me. Holy shit that thing is fast! It's a good thing that I was at range when I shot at it as the distance gave me just enough time to dive out of the way of its charge. The dive was none too graceful and I end up sprawled on the ground next to a very angry looking Hawke.
"What the hell was that!" He snaps at me.
I scramble to my feet and just point to the big ugly that looks pissed that he missed me. "No time! Kill the damn thing, Hawke! I'll support and protect like you said, just go!"
I look over and see both Carver and Bethany alive and well while the ogre is stumbling about trying to regain its footing after its failed charge. Bethany is shooting another fearful glare my way and looks none too pleased at my antics. The fear quickly vanishes and is replaced by a nasty glare. Oh, I'm going to pay for that later, I'm sure. The look stings a little, but I can take it given I may have just saved her life. Carver is solely focused on the ogre and doesn't seem to notice what I did for him. It's alright though. He's alive and I know that together we can take this thing down.
I am shaken out of my observations by Aveline hauling me up by the scruff of my neck and firmly planting me on the ground. Damn she's strong...
"Stop with the puppy eyes, mage, and look alive." Aveline barks at me while raising her shield. "Darkspawn reinforcements are inbound."
Shit. While I was gawking on the ground, the hill filled up with more hurlocks snarling and snapping about. I nod quickly to Aveline and ready my staff and magic. I choose not to respond to her comment given the situation. A much quicker glance around told me that the siblings are currently engaging the ogre and seem to be doing well. It's bleeding heavily from several nasty looking wounds...and I think that Hawke climbed its back and is trying to sever its spine. Nice. Not to mention the various burns and shards of ice that litter its massive body. Bethany is holding her own in this too. Yeah, they got that.
Meanwhile, Aveline and I begin providing cover for Leandra and Wesley with me shooting off ranged magic while Aveline protects us from Darkspawn arrows and any stragglers that make it through my casting. This strategy works well despite the strain on my mana. I ignore the lightheadedness that is starting to come from so much casting and I grit my teeth through the pain to continue to do my part in keeping everyone safe.
A happy coincidence of Aveline and my efforts is that we're keeping the majority off of the reinforcements off of the Hawkes so they could concentrate on the ogre. But I really can't keep this up. That second wind is just about gone and I'm running on fumes here.
I dig deep and continue fighting as best as I can for another agonizing amount of time before the last hurlock falls from a particularly violent bolt of electricity. Once that happens, a deafening roar and a massive shake of the ground inform me of the ogre's demise. Thank God, or the Maker, Fallon'Din, the Dread Wolf, Andraste, Cthulu, Fal'Cie, Allah, Jesus, Satan, or whoever the fuck else is listening. I have never felt this out of it in my life. The world is starting to spin and seems strangely...muted. I'm able to remain standing just long enough to see Hawke remove his blade out of the ogre's forehead with a flourish and a leap off the foul thing's corpse before I finally collapse facedown into the dirt with a soft thud.
Bethany gives a small shout that I can't really hear and rushes over to my prone position as fast as she's able to. I really can't move at all and it's scaring the hell out of me. I'm trying to move anything I can, but the effort is failing miserably. In fact, it's all I can do to stay awake. This is not cool. Exhaustion and fatigue wracks my body and renders me unable to do anything. I had given the very last of my mana in that battle and it would seem that my body just shut down on me. I didn't know that could happen.
Bethany did warn me of the dangers of magical exhaustion during our training but she never really got into the symptoms past recognizing it when it's starting. I guess this is what happens when mages push themselves too far. Go figure.
Belatedly, I can feel Bethany's hands on my back and I can feel some of what's left of her mana seeping into me with healing energy. As always, Bethany's magic feels nice but it doesn't help much other than easing some aches and closing a few minor cuts. The exhaustion is still paralyzingly in effect and does nothing to my inability to move. Bethany gives a little frustrated noise that I only notice due to her close proximity. I don't think she's realized that I'm just exhausted and not in serious need of healing. If I were to guess, she's a little too emotional right now to think clearly.
Soon afterwards, I feel Beth get up and walk away. I can hear voices behind me but in my addled state I can't make much sense of them. The pitches vary so I'm assuming that everyone is talking to each other. Hopefully they're trying to figure out how to get me up because I don't have any bright ideas at the moment. I keep attempting to move but every time I try, my limbs get heavier and refuse to move even the slightest inch. If I could, I'd yell in frustration.
Suddenly, I feel something rolling me onto my back and gently cradling my head against something soft. I wearily look up through half lidded eyes to see Bethany looking down with something small in her hands. It appears to be a small vial but its contents are hidden from me at the moment.
"Here," she says softly while putting the warm vial against my lips. "Drink this if you can, Anthony."
With a small tilt of her hand, Bethany empties the contents of the vial down my throat and I reflexively swallow. A split second passes where nothing happens. I was just about to wonder what the hell that was for before whatever it was kicks in. The feeling is...nearly indescribable. I feel as if someone has poured liquid magic into my veins and am infused with a sudden burst of energy that I immediately bolt upright off of Bethany's lap into a sitting position. Whoa! Talk about a drink that gives you wings!
"It would appear that Wesley was right, Bethany."
That's Hawke's voice. I whip my head around to see him looking rather pensive while gazing at me curiously. I can't get a word in edgewise before I'm assaulted by a mass of black hair and relieved lips against mine. Bethany. I respond readily though I'm definitely going to have to get used to these public displays of affection. She breaks the kiss first and presses her face against my neck. I think I feel a couple of small sobs come from her but they die down rather quickly. She didn't utter a sound but her heaving back told me what her voice wouldn't.
"I-I feared the worst when you just fell like that." Bethany says softly while removing herself from our embrace. She stands and offers a hand to help me up. I take it and make my way to my feet. I only wobble once.
I'm feeling much better, given the circumstances, but I can tell that I'm still largely drained. To clarify, I feel like shit, but at least its shit that can walk and move about as opposed to paralyzed and immobile shit. There's a difference.
"I am a Templar," says Wesley's voice before he is cut off with a nasty sounding cough. "We watch over our charges dilligently and can recognize common ailments such as magical exhaustion. We also know a thing or two about Lyr-"
He's cut off again by another furious bout of hacking and wheezing that causes Aveline to go pale with worry.
Lyrium...he was about to say Lyrium, wasn't he? Bethany must've given me Lyrium. I can feel a tiny sliver of mana again and it could only have come from what I just drank. It had to have been Lyrium. I guess you could add that to my list of firsts for the day. I had never touched the stuff before for fear of becoming addicted to it like the Templars. Bethany had repeatedly assured me me that I wouldn't get addicted, but I tend to stay away from any substance that forms negative habits like drugs, alcohol and narcotic substances. That even included pain meds back home. But desperate times call for desperate measures, huh?
For the most part the Lyrium seems to have done its job. It replenished enough of my mana for me to be mostly functional, but I don't think I could fight without shorting myself out again. If another pack of Darkspawn shows up, I'll be no help at all. I reach down and grab my staff anyway, just in case.
"Wesley! Are you all right?!" Raises Aveline's voice before she too is interrupted. Except this time the interruption is the now familiar shriek of approaching Darkspawn. Within seconds, the sounds of stamping feet and clanking armor are racing up to meet us on the hill.
"Oh come on!" I yell angrily with a tightened grip on my staff as the first hurlock comes into view. "This is some bullshit!"
"Flames! There's no end to them!" Aveline assents.
Hawke just remains impassive and quietly addresses us all. "Form up. Back to back. Everyone cover each other's blind spots and fight until your last. This is where we make our stand. Either we all make it through this or none of us do."
A chilling thought, but one that I could live with. I make sure to position myself next to Bethany as I can feel her doing the same. Aveline is at my other side while Hawke and Carver take places beside her. Leandra is largely unsure what to do, but Wesley directs her to the center of our little circle and they proceed to try and take up as little space as possible. I don't know if this will help much but Wesley is the one with military training, not me. I look to Bethany again and we lock eyes. Not sure if it is the connection we share or if it's simply how well we know each other at this point, but I know we're thinking the same thing.
If the Darkspawn want to get to her, they'll have to go through me.
Change the pronoun for Bethany, but I know she feels the same way. That determined glint in her eye is hard as we press against each other in anticipation for this final attack. In my case, I mean this literally. My magic is mostly shot so I'll protect Beth with my body if I have to. After all of this fighting and the injuries that I've already sustained, I don't even care how hurt I get anymore. All that matters is that Bethany somehow gets out safe.
I think it's a bit too soon to call it that dreaded "L-word" but even I know that whatever this feeling is, it's a bit stronger than simply "I like you". Right now, I can understand Aveline's earlier vehemence when Wesley was threatened. They will NOT have Bethany. Not while I breathe.
Another screech sounds, this time with a lot of friends.
The Darkspawn are here.
They slowly surround us from all sides and block every possible exit. It's obvious that they have no intentions of letting us out and that we have no more intentions of running away from them. This really is going to be it. My knuckles whiten with the force I'm using to grip my staff in anticipation of the coming attack.
...and before any of us could do anything, it was over.
Even more Darkspawn corpses littered the ground, most of them burning. The scent of seared and corrupted flesh is overpowering and everywhere. It's everything I can do not to gag at the stench. In front of us, an unknown woman with startlingly white hair fashioned into horn-like protrusions is sauntering towards us with a confident sway in her hips and a smirk upon her face. She's wearing armor that is both form fitting and terrifying with jagged looking metal gauntlets, boots and arm guards amid a flexible yet surprisingly thick material underneath. Black feathers adorn her shoulders with an air of wild magic about them and there is a hole in the center of her chest to expose some modest cleavage.
Just because she can.
If it wasn't for the obvious age written across her face, this would be a stunning and ethereal woman. Now she just has to settle for simply being rather handsome in her old age. In her gauntleted left hand, the woman is dragging a dead and burning hurlock as if it weighed nothing. Along the way, she drops it contemptuously and regards us with the creepiest golden eyes that I've ever had the misfortune to gaze into. It reminds me of the glimpse I had of Morrigan.
There is no mistaking who the fuck this is.
"Well, well..." Flemeth drawls out with a hand on her aged, but surprisingly shapely, hips. "What have we here?"
Hold up...what the hell just happened? Did she do her whole dragon bit that fast or did she simply use magic? Was the dragon part of a Tethras special in the game or did I miss it somehow? Whatever it is, something about this woman puts me on edge. Even if I didn't already know she was a Mage, I think every mage and Templar within a mile would be able to sense her. Flemeth is practically oozing magic and is making no attempt to hide it. Her mana is surrounding her like a second skin and pervades the very air around her. What is really unsettling is that it doesn't all feel like the good kind, either.
Some of her mana feels like the demons I've encountered in the Fade. Other parts of it feels like that weird sensation I had when I tried to throw that fireball when I was injured.
...wait a second...
Oh shit!
Did I almost..?
Fuck!
I-I'll...deal with that later.
But still, more of Flemeth's mana just feels like...her. I've come to accept that mages have their own unique magical signature. Flemeth, whatever she is, still has enough humanity in her to retain hers it would seem. Or is it only specific to the body being used? It could still be a demon - or demons - in there using that body. Or maybe that signature is that of Flemeth's current host? Or maybe-
"It used to be we never got visitors to the Wilds," Flemeth says with an amused lilt. Okay I'm getting annoyed. Does everyone have to interrupt my internal monologues? I mean really! "But now it seems they arrive in hordes!"
Hawke is still on edge. As am I. He takes a defensive position and raises his daggers. "I don't know what you are but I won't let you harm us."
"Let me?" Flemeth asks. She still seems rather amused though a hard edge has crept into her voice. "If I wished you harm, I daresay you could not stop me."
Nobody had anything to say to that.
She continues, undaunted. "If you wish to flee the Darkspawn, you should know you are heading in the wrong direction." She turns and moves as if to walk away. I can't say that I'm sad to see her go. There's something unsettling about her that just feels...wrong.
Bethany seems to have other ideas. "Wait!" She yells. "You can't just leave us here!"
"Can I not?" Flemeth asks.
She turns to face us again and takes several steps towards Hawke. He lowers his daggers but remains tense. "I spotted a most curious sight: a mighty ogre, vanquished! Who could perform such a feat?"
'Not me.' I thought rather gloomily. I was still in a fair amount of pain from the battle...and I didn't even fight the damn thing.
"But now my curiosity is sated, and you are safe...for the moment. Is that not enough?" Flemeth asks.
"You could show me that trick of yours." Hawke says with a small smile. Maybe I did miss the dragon. Improved focus, my ass. "That looks useful."
Flemeth laughs. It isn't a pleasant sound. "If only a clever tongue was all that was needed. Tell me, clever child, how do you plan to outrun the Blight?"
"We need to get to Kirkwall. In the Free Marches." Says Carver.
"Kirkwall?" Flemeth seems a little surprised at out intentions. "My, but that is quite the voyage you plan. Your king will not miss you, hmm?"
"I'm sure he'll miss his life more." Whoa Hawke! That's...not very patriotic of you, buddy. Funny, but still...
Flemeth bursts into hysterical laughter at the joke. "Oh, you I like!"
That's really fucking reassuring...
Flemeth stops her laughing and her face turns serious. She mutters in a low voice as if talking to herself. "Hurdled into the chaos you fight...and the worlds will shake before you. Is it fate or chance? I can never decide." She pauses for a moment as if contemplating the answer to her question. Conversely, her words strike a chord with me. Fate or chance...huh. Before I can expand on my thoughts further, Flemeth speaks again. "It appears fortune smiles upon us both today. I may be able to help you yet."
Hawke is rightfully skeptical. "There must be a catch."
Flemeth just bursts into laughter again. "There is always a catch! Life is a catch! I suggest you catch it while you can."
Crazy as she is, I've always liked that line. I'm just glad she actually said it.
"Maybe we shouldn't trust her." Bethany whispers loudly. "I don't even know what she is."
"I know what she is." Aveline says next to a downed Wesley. When did he fall? "The Witch of the Wilds."
"Some call me that," said witch says with an air of nonchalance. "Also Flemeth. Asha'bellanar. An old hag who talks too much!" She gives a small chuckle that dies quickly. "Does it matter? I offer you this: I will get your group past the horde in exchange for a simple delivery to a place not far out of your way. Would you do this for a 'Witch of the Wilds'?"
Hawke pauses for a moment before turning to the rest of us. "Should we trust her?"
"Wesley is injured," says Aveline. "We'll never escape the Darkspawn."
Oh shit! Wesley! How the fuck did I forget about that?!
"If you need to, leave me behind." He says in a weak voice.
"No!" Aveline says with a raised voice. "I said I would drag you out if I had to and I meant it!"
Hawke stands there thinking for a moment before he asks a question. "What is a Witch of the Wilds, exactly..."
And Hawke proceeds to exhaust the Investigate tab once again. We receive a whole lot of information that I already know regarding the Chasind legend of the Witch of the Wilds and Flemeth's distaste for such idle fancies. She also alludes to her "appointment" with the Warden and figures that we would likely go through as much trouble delivering her trinket as she went through saving our lives. Hawke was forced to concede the point leading Flemeth to make a remark about her daughter. I had to repress another shiver as I remembered Morrigan's cold stare during the five seconds I had been in her presence. At the end of this, Bethany had a question of her own.
"You're an apostate?"
"Yes, just like you. We have so much in common." Flemeth now turns her attention towards me. I feel her size me up and I realize that I must not make a very impressive sight right now. Tattered clothing from the darkspawn, riddled with more cuts than a tree in lumber season and utterly drenched in my own halfway dried blood, not to mention the fact that I was leaning heavily on my staff from sheer exhaustion, I knew that I looked like shit. Granted, none of us really were smelling like roses at the moment, but I could tell that I was the worst by far.
Flemeth's eyes linger a bit on my staff and a small smirk graces her painted lips before she speaks again in a tone positively dripping with dark amusement. "And another one it would seem. The three of us could start a coven and plot the downfall of Thedas as most assume we do. I doubt the Templars would appreciate that."
"No they would not," wheezes a noticeably weakened Wesley amid Flemeth's cruel laughter at her own joke. I don't think she cares much that she is the only one who found it funny.
"All the more reason to do so, I would say." Cackles Flemeth much to the group's displeasure.
"Am I the only one who finds her creepy as shit, or is that just the desperation talking?" I say tiredly but loud enough to be heard. "Cut us some slack Miss 'of-the-Wilds', we really don't need this right now."
"Pity will not suit your needs nor will you receive any from me." Flemeth continues in a completely different tone than the one she had been using previously. Gone is the amusement and she sounds completely serious now. If I wasn't scared before, I am now. She tilts her head curiously and takes another look at me.
I swear her eyes flash a brighter shade of gold for a moment. Immediately, I am struck by a sudden chill that races its way down my spine. Assuming it to be magic, I force myself to stare back at her with a great deal of difficulty. I don't know what happened but it was definitely magical. Not any I would like to experience again, but magic nonetheless. Magic is all about will and I did my best to keep mine strong just in case the witch's intentions were harmful. After the shit I've been through today, I feel as if I should be prepared for anything regardless of if they've happened in the game or not.
Sure enough, I felt only the slightest graze of her power against mine. It was...overwhelming. It makes Bethany's considerable abilities seem worthless by comparison and my own not even worth mentioning. She could kill us all without batting a single eyelash. More than anything else I've experienced today, that thought alone scares the shit out of me.
Flemeth seems not to care about my sudden surge of fear and continues. "Ah, I see. A grown newborn, is it?"
Ever observant, Flemeth's eyes move towards Bethany's hand laced with mine as well as her body's close proximity to mine. I'm not sure when that happened, really. I think we instinctively sought each other out when faced with the new threat but that's beside the point. Flemeth's eyes flash gold again and I feel Bethany shiver against me. More magic, I'm sure. She looks between the two of us with a bemused and an almost curious expression.
"And it seems to fancy its mother!" Flemeth says with the amused tone creeping back into her voice. "How delightfully sweet, if a bit taboo." A truly nasty cackle finishes her statement.
"Anthony and I aren't related!" Bethany yells with a red tint to her cheeks. I nod vigorously in assertion. I may be many things, but I do not practice nor do I condone any form of incest! With three younger sisters that I tend to be fiercely protective of, the thought makes me a little ill to tell the truth.
Flemeth just continues to laugh evilly, much to my annoyance.
"Nope, that isn't creepy at all." I say dryly over Flemeth's insane laughter trying to mask my terror of being in this woman's presence. I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'd rather have more darkspawn than to spend any more time with this bitch.
"Truly? Well then, you two are unique!" Flemeth says, finally calming down and turning her direction to me again. "You have quite the potential but yet you know next to nothing of the arcane. How curious! How could you have possibly survived as a Mage to adulthood with the pitiful amount of your power you seem to wield?"
Gee thanks. You really know how to make a guy feel better.
She glances at Bethany for a moment before speaking again. "Your chosen spouse seems to be adequately powered for her age yet you are not. Her power has even had an influence on your own though you both are too young and inexperienced to have noted it."
Wait...what? Dafuq is she talking about?!
"There is something that binds you two together." Flemeth says mysteriously. "More than any petty emotions or physical attraction you may feel for each other. As to what it is...I cannot say. But I find myself curious, nonetheless."
"Uh...let's just say we have unique circumstances for now." I say nervously. What the hell else can I say? I have no clue what the hell just happened and I can feel that Bethany doesn't either. Another magic thing, I suppose. I don't know why or how, but I just get that feeling from her.
"Indeed?" Flemeth responds with an elegantly arched brow. "As do we all, I suppose. However, time is running short." She turns back to Hawke much to my relief. There was a hint of skepticism there but she thankfully seems to be letting the issue drop for now. "Do you have an answer to my request?"
Hawke had been listening to the entire exchange with his own curiosity practically dancing behind his amber eyes. At being addressed again, he smiles and responds cheerfully.
"Roast a few more Darkspawn and I'll do whatever you want!."
For the first time, Flemeth doesn't seem to be amused. "Sadly, my charity is at an end."
She takes a purposeful step towards Hawke and deposits something into his hand. She speaks again. "There is a clan of Dalish elves near the city of Kirkwall. Deliver this amulet to their Keeper, Marethari. Do as she asks with it and any debt between us is paid in full."
Hawke contemplates the object in the open air. It appears to be nothing more than a simple pendant, made of what looks like some kind of unidentifiable metal. Nothing extraordinary about it in the slightest.
"Before I take you anywhere, however," says Flemeth. "There is another matter..."
Almost as if on cue, Wesley gives a wet and nasty sounding cough. The witch turns and fixes her attention on the sick Templar. Aw, fuck...
Aveline is quick to catch on. "No! Leave him alone!"
Flemeth is undeterred. "What has been done to your man is within his blood already."
Well that's odd. The seemingly evil and scary witch almost sounds...sad to tell Aveline this. Weird.
"You lie!" Aveline yells back, full of fire. Witch or not, Aveline will never back down from a threat to someone under her protection. Though in this case, there's nothing a strong sword arm can do to help what's about to happen.
"She's right Aveline." Wesley says weakly from the ground. "I can feel the corruption inside me."
"This corruption is the permanent sort, I take it?" Asks Hawke grimly.
"The only cure I know of is to become a Grey Warden." Flemeth says.
"And they all died at Ostagar." Says a mostly silent until now Carver.
"Not all." Flemeth says in that same mysterious tone as before. "But the last are now beyond your reach."
"Aveline." Wesley again. "Listen to me." His voice is getting weaker.
"You can't ask me this!" Aveline says on the verge of breaking down. This is hard to watch. "I won't!"
Wesley has resorted to begging now. Someone make it stop. "Please. The corruption is a slow death. I can't..."
Aveline pauses in indecision, clearly agonizing over her decision. She's kneeling by Wesley's side and she looks around for guidance. I don't meet her gaze when she looks my way.
Finally, her gaze settles on Hawke who does look her in the eyes. He kneels on the ground with her and speaks gently while placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"He's your husband Aveline. I can't decide his fate."
Hawke then stands and walks a bit to the side and gestures to the rest of us to do the same to give them one last moment to themselves. Oh man...this sucks. I turn away as Hawke indicated. I would have done so even if he didn't say anything to us. This is not a moment meant for me. Bethany turns with me and grips my arm tighter. I return the gesture needing the support just as much as she does. Have I mentioned that this sucks right now?
"Be strong, my love." Wesley's voice rings out clear and full of emotion one final time. I really wish I couldn't hear this.
A brief pause passes before a wet squelch and a pained gasp is heard. A deafening silence takes its place. Ser Wesley Vallen is dead by his wife's hand.
"Without an end, there can be no peace." Flemeth's voice sounds and I take that as my cue to turn back around. I purposely avoid looking at the spot where I know Wesley's corpse lay. Instead I see Flemeth standing next to Aveline, almost as if to comfort the woman. That...is unexpected. Aveline's back is currently facing towards me and I cannot see her expression.
Wasting no more time, Flemeth turns and begins to walk in what I'd assume is a northern direction. She speaks in an even tone completely devoid of any of her earlier humor. Wesley's death obviously affected the witch as well. I guess she does have a heart. Who knew? "It gets no easier. Your struggles have only just begun."
The group has nothing to say and dutifully follows. Bethany and I hang back a bit and sneak a glance towards Aveline. She is putting on a brave face but I can see the unshed tears gathering at the corners of her downcast eyes and I notice the mild shake in her limbs from heavy sobs being held in. She is utterly crushed. Not that I'm surprised, but damn...I feel bad right now. Could I have possibly prevented Wesley's death? I mean, I kinda knew it was coming but he was such a minor character that the whole thing just slipped my mind.
He probably saved me earlier with that diagnosis of magical exhaustion too! If he didn't say anything, I might still be lying prone on the dirt right now. And I just let him die with my only excuse being that I forgot? Not cool. Granted, there was the whole fighting for my life while being vastly underpowered, but c'mon man!
Wesley wasn't the first thing that left me feeling bad today. Throughout the day's battles, there were times where I felt weak...helpless. I felt fine in the early fighting but that feeling passed quickly. Being weak is not something that I'm typically used to where I come from. Not to mention that it's something I should never feel with the power I now have at my fingertips. I am a mother fucking mage! I should be a threat to my enemies! An asset to my friends and allies! Not a goddamn liability!
I will get stronger, I swear it. Hell, I must get stronger or I won't last in this universe very long at all. If it wasn't for the Hawkes and Aveline, I would have died several times over today. As grateful as I am, that isn't a thought that inspires confidence. I want to help protect and not be the one who must be protected and watched! It's infuriating!
But one thing that does inspire confidence is the fact that I'm alive. Take it however you want to, but I survived today when a whole hell of a lot of people didn't. That fact alone makes me feel a little better. A slight pressure on my hand alerts me to the pretty woman standing at my side. Bethany looks grim, but she stays close and gives me a reassuring nod. A reminder that whatever happens, she's here for me. That helps me more than I can reasonably explain. I nod back to her while returning the pressure and continue forward.
The back of Hawke's head greets me as he leads the party behind Flemeth. You know, I can't figure him out. One moment, he's ready to kill me and the next he's defending me from Templars and legendary sorceresses. Whatever it was I imagined from the Champion of Kirkwall, this enigma of a man wasn't it. If I were completely honest, I think I was expecting a cheerful jokester who didn't take anything seriously. That's what he (or she) always ended up as during my numerous playthroughs of DA2. I definitely was not expecting what is clearly a serious man and a hardened killer. Then again, I don't really know him that well. Those few jokes with Flemeth did not escape me. Maybe he'll surprise me going forward. Or maybe he won't. Either way, I guess I'm stuck with him. I'll figure it out eventually.
Hawke isn't the only thing I have to figure out, though. I still don't know what I'm doing here. That fact is pretty much a given now, but Flemeth's words are making me think. Is it fate or simply chance that I've ended up here? Is there some grand plan for me or am I just an unfortunate bystander caught up in events beyond my control? And then there was what she said about me and Bethany. She said that we're connected in ways beyond our attraction to one another. Or is it because of it? What did she mean? The whole thing is making my head spin. I think it's safe to say that I'm still at a loss as to what my real purpose is in this universe.
So far I think I've done pretty well though. I managed to better prepare everyone for the quick relocation as best as I could and I even saved Carver from the ogre. That was a win no matter how you look at it. I don't think he will ever know that I saved his life but I can live with that. He's alive and not a pile of mush splattered about the cliffs surrounding Lothering. In the grand scheme of things, that's all that matters.
Yes, Wesley died but now that I think about it, I'm not sure if things would have turned out that well had he survived. Regardless of everything else, the man was a Templar. The moment we were out of the horde's path he would have felt honor bound to try and apprehend Bethany and I. No matter how I would have felt about the situation, one thing is absolutely certain regarding the outcome.
We likely would have killed him to protect ourselves.
Which would have immediately turned Aveline against us and would force us to have to kill her too. That would be unacceptable as Aveline becomes ridiculously important later on in Kirkwall. We cannot afford her death if we apostates want to remain safe until Hawke makes his fortune.
I wince a little internally at the direction my thoughts are taking. The ease of which I'm thinking about dealing out death and manipulating people and situations is mildly disturbing to me but I have to face facts. If I'm going to survive in Thedas, I'm going to have to change. Morality issues and cultural conditioning aside, I'm going to have to use my power to become a killer and I'm going to have to use my knowledge of future events intelligently. I have to realize that some people must die and that I cannot save every unfortunate casualty on the Champion's rise to glory. Wesley's death may have been an accident on my part, but it really was the best thing for us as a group. I feel for Aveline, but it can't be helped at this point.
My only question now as we continue to follow Flemeth to gods know where, is if I can actually do it. I think that I can but will I still be me by the end of it?
...
I...hope so, but only time will tell.
-o0o-
A/N: Damn that chapter was a bitch to get out! Sorry it took so long but I did give a fair warning last chapter. College is cool so far but it takes up a lot of time. Add in the fact that I still don't have a computer (this entire chapter was written on the Notepad app on an iPod Touch) and you have serious problems when one tries to write. Even now, I'm borrowing my roommate's computer to post this. A difficult task seeing as though he's always on the thing. I have no timetable on the next chapter but expect it to be another gargantuan one like this was. That's how I plan to make up for the inevitable wait between installments...with big ass chapters! Besides, I've always wanted to write a story that averages 7-10K words per chapter so here goes nothing! A big thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved and alerted the story. It really makes my day to see a new review and motivates me to write more. Until next time!
Extra Note:
Flemeth likely used a more refined version of the spell Bethany used earlier to gauge both Bethany and Anthony's power. She's old and powerful enough to know of it and to improve upon it without making it as intimate as young Bethany had to. Just FYI.