Disclaimer: I Don't own a Song of Ice and Fire or Dragon Age

I'm back, or at least this story gets another update. Some things I promised last chapter won't be in this chapter I'm afraid.

The Phoenix and the Griffin

Chapter 5: In Pursuit of Heroism

Daylen walked through the flames, hearing nothing else but whispers. It was some kind of chant, a song perhaps. But he couldn't determine exactly what they were saying. Debris was spread across the floor, rotted or charred grass. Shards of rock were protruding from the ground, no, not rock, rock didn't shine. The glowing stones were red and as Daylen got closer he saw that some of the stones were growing out of people. He looked at the bodies, horrified, the surge of power felt much like lyrium. Unwilling to look at the bodies anymore, he turned away and tripped. He had caught his leg on something, rolling on his back he looked to see what it was. Staring back at him were the eyes of Daveth and Jory, blood leaking from the former thief's mouth, the knife wounds still fresh on the knight. He got off of the floor and ran, hearing the whispers growing louder. Everywhere he turned he saw a body, a Ferelden soldier, a grey warden, a villager he couldn't save. He slid to a halt, looking at Duncan's head impaled on a spike.

But the head spoke, whispering and as Daylen turned he realised all of the corpses around him were whispering too. Even heads separated from bodies still spoke, half torn or crushed jaws still moved and exposed tongues wagged, whispering the song. Daylen formed fire in his hands, recognising the feeling he had had ever since he had completed the joining. The whispers was the darkspawn taint, and they were getting closer. He looked over his shoulder, looked to his left, his right, ahead and even at the floor. It felt as if they were all around him. He could barely hear another sound in the air, like air rushing through leather it was. Stumbling as he advanced, Daylen looked ahead again, yelling in pain.

"What are you? WHY ARE YOU IN MY HEAD!" he screamed.

He grit his teeth together and stomped his feet into the ground. The haze of the flames became clearer, and again Daylen could see bodies piled on top of one another. Suddenly, a great mass landed on the bodies, spreading its wings. It reared its head back and spewed fire from its mouth. Daylen shielded his eyes and attempted to use his magic. But he found he could not, the light did not gather. Instead he clutched his sides, and bellowed out all of his pain. Blood burst from his mouth, his arms burned, the ground shook beneath him and the electricity surged around him. A great cloud of darkness hung over him and he felt his burnt arm expand, turning into some kind of monstrous claw. The last thing he heard was the roar of a dragon, and an eerie laugh.

Daylen had scolded the grass around him, his bed roll was frozen and he felt static shocks on his knees. Across the fire Alistair sat, resting one hand on his knee.

"A nightmare?" he asked.

"More like a terror," Daylen said.

"What was it about?"

"I could hear it, that voice I could hear when I sense the dark spawn, in fact, is that how you sense it too?" Daylen asked.

"A song right? Every Grey Warden describes it as that, that's what the nightmare is, the dark spawn hive mind. Quiet moments like when you're sleeping are when you're most open to it. A few of the grey wardens once said they understood how the dark spawn think, they also said people who take part in the joining ritual during a blight have the worst nightmares, though I don't know whether that is true," Alistair explained.

"Lucky me if it is," Daylen muttered.

"I am sorry for this, the nightmares are just something you'll have to endure," Alistair said.

"Anything else I'm supposed to know?"

"Expect a bigger appetite than usual, I ate for days after my joining," Alistair grinned.

Daylen chuckled, running his hands through his hair and lying back on the grass.

"So what can you tell me about Redcliffe?" he asked.

"It's one of the largest and most prosperous towns in Ferelden, considering it's the closest place between Orlais and Orzammar, so a lot of trade goes through it. Redcliffe castle stood for hundreds of years before the village was formed, the area's considered one of the first line of defences for Ferelden. Arl Eamon always told me that the country would never fall unless they took Redcliffe first," Alistair explained.

"I understand Arl Eamon raised you."

"Did I say that?" Alistair grinned. "I meant that dogs raised me, giant, slobbering dogs from the Anderfels. A whole pack of them in fact."

"That's not what you told Flemeth," Daylen said, sitting up and looking at Alistair.

"Well if you're going to pay attention to the facts, fine. Let's see, how do I explain this? I'm a bastard, and before you make any smart comments I mean the fatherless kind. My mother was a serving girl in Redcliffe castle who died when I was very young, Arl Eamon wasn't my father but he took me in anyhow and put a roof over my head. He was good to me, and he didn't have to be. I respect the man and I don't blame him anymore for sending me off to the chantry when I was old enough," Alistair explained.

"Why did he send you there?" Daylen asked.

"Arl Eamon eventually married a young woman from Orlais, which caused all sorts of problems between him and the king, because it was so soon after the war. But he loved her, anyhow the new Arlessa resented the rumours which pegged me as his bastard. They weren't true but of course they existed, the Arl didn't care but she did. So off I was packed to the nearest monastery at age ten, just as well, the Arlessa made sure the castle wasn't a home for me by that point. She despised me."

"I can understand her point of view, but it's an awful thing to do to a child," Daylen said.

"She felt threatened by my presence, I can't say I blame her, she wondered if the rumours were true herself I bet."

"Yeah, I never had that experience."

"You're a bastard yourself?" Alistair asked.

"My mother never told me who my father was, at least not in any great detail. Plenty of people made rumours or their own stories of course. Rival families called her a whore who slept with a complete stranger, romantics said she fell in love with a mysterious foreigner, a Rivaini is the popular one, explaining my skin tone and hair. Though some people have also said Tevinter," Daylen explained.

"She treated you well?"

"Yeah, for as long as she could anyway, maybe if she had been married or it was a man there wouldn't be so much shame around it," Daylen muttered.

"What do you mean?" Alistair asked.

"You never noticed? A lord has a bastard and that's that, it's a scandal, but its accepted, a lady has a bastard and it's a mark on the family. I never understood that, well actually I did but, I could not accept that," Daylen shook his head. "Nor could I really accept the hatred people have for bastards either."

"I got used to it, I lived better than most orphans would have. Better than most recognised bastards anyway, don't forget, not every bastard is recognised by a famous parent," Alistair said.

"Yeah, I think in Westeros they choose names for them, Sand for Dorne, Snow for the North, etc for other places."

"I hate that!"

"Me too, it seems like just a way of marking them, separating them from others."

Alistair's face grew solemn as they fire illuminated his face.

"I never knew my mother, but I was always told that an amulet I had was hers. It had Andraste's holy symbol on it. I remember being so furious at being sent away I tore it off and threw it at the wall and it shattered. Stupid, stupid thing to do," Alistair shook his head.

"The anger for me at being sent to the circle only came later in my life," Daylen said.

"You never had the option of seeing the people who raised you though, Arl Eamon did try to see me, but I refused to see him every time. I hated every moment at the chantry, eventually they just put me forward for templar training," Alistair explained.

"What was it like?" Daylen asked.

"Preachy!"

"So no different from circle mage training then?"

Both men hung their heads back and laughed.

"What was mage training like?" Alistair asked.

"Repetitive a lot of the time, they wanted me to keep learning things I'd already learnt, I was extremely young when I got there, younger than most of the mages actually so I think they were trying to keep my knowledge equal with everyone else. Growing up there wasn't easy though, even though we're sheltered somewhat, the people there, both mages and templars could be cruel and petty at times," Daylen explained.

"What do you mean?"

"There's politics there, groups, and the mages do what they can to entertain themselves. Gossip circulates, nick names, pranks, I admit I played a few tricks myself," Daylen said.

"Like what?" Alistair asked.

"My friends Jowan and Neria and I once played a trick on a mage who kept on trying to escape the circle, Anders, he never gave up. Anyway, he was staying in the full mage dorms, so we timed it perfectly. We put shit into a bag, lit it up and watched him stomp it out, but that isn't the funny part. Next time he escaped the templars tracked him down because of his smell," Daylen chuckled.

"He didn't get rid of his shoes?"

"Nope, Neria could carry her voice, one time she put on a very masculine voice, it surprised Jowan and I. Anyway, she put on this voice, carried it across the room in the chantry, she convinced a few of the praying apprentices that they were actually getting their prayers answered by the Maker," Daylen explained.

"What did she say to them?"

"She said for them to begin cleaning in their baths, that the answer would come to them like a great wind," Daylen said.

"I think I know where this is going," Alistair smiled in good humour.

"Anyway, they went to wash, Neria had us stay outside the door. The three girls are behind curtains, hot water in their baths. Neria got a bucket of cold water, tipped it over the curtains and Jowan and I hear this great EEEYAAGH!"

Alistair rolled his head back and laughed as Daylen chuckled.

"Wicked, oh maker, why didn't I think of that?"

Daylen stood up, brushing the dirt off of his legs. He held up his ruined bed roll and sighed, it was never a comfortable thing anyway, so he may as well sleep on the grass.

"You wonder how our new companion is doing?" Alistair asked.

He gestured to the hulking figure in the corner of the camp. Some time since they left Lothering, Daylen and Alistair came across a man attacked by the darkspawn. He was a merchant, and as thanks for saving his life was willing to part with a golem control rod. Daylen had read of golems, towering behemoths created by the dwarves, made from stone and iron, capable of crushing bone with their hands. But when Daylen, Alistair, Leliana and Alpha got to Honnleath, the darkspawn attacking it hadn't been the worst part. Daylen was a little disappointed when he saw that the golem was just a foot taller than the average man, hardly a giant. Clearly some sort of magic had been infused with the golem's hide, beyond the usual magic used to bring stone to life. More than that though, the golem had personality. Shale showed Daylen that perhaps books didn't quite have it right on golems. It made Daylen, had such a personality simply developed from the golem, or was it based on something that already existed. Of the religious beliefs that existed in the world, Daylen still believed in the concept of a soul. He doubted anyone could freely give a soul. The control rod didn't work, it required some kind of password to use it.

So Daylen and his companions went to the owners house. Matthias was the son of a Ferelden war hero, Wilhelm, after the man helped Maric and Loghain's rebellion against Orlais, he was granted freedom from the circle. Wilhelm was something of a hero to the mages in the tower. Daylen himself imagined following in Wilhelm's footsteps, aiding a noble or a king in such a way that he would be granted his freedom. The man's home certainly cost a grand reward to build, it had a network of tunnels that must have ran underneath the village itself. One part shelter, another part storage facility. When they found Matthias, he explained to them that Wilhelm had died in an accident involving the golem. Matthias's mother wanted no more part of the golem so she sold the control rod.

"I can give you the command phrase, but first, please I need your help, my daughter Amalia," Matthias's eyes spoke of his desperation better than words could.

"Forget the golem right now then, what happened?" Daylen asked.

He calmed the man down, and Matthias explained that his daughter Amalia ran into the deepest part of the tunnel. A part where Wilhelm had placed wards in to keep demons within imprisoned. It turned out, Wilhelm's skill wasn't in the elements or primal magic, but in his ability to bind demons. Magic the chantry deemed unholy, evil, had been used by someone other mages held up as a hero. As Daylen ran through the tunnel he thought of Wilhelm in a new light. Once outside of the Fade, demons weren't just embodiments of emotion, they were living things. Wilhelm used those living things as slaves to give the rebels an advantage. An evil act, that led to a nation's independence.

'Some decisions are justified I suppose,' he thought as he approached the barrier.

"What do you mean you've never climbed a tree, don't cats like to be in trees?" he heard Amalia asked.

Daylen narrowed his eyes in suspicion, who was the girl talking to? He passed through the barrier with the others, seeing the intricate chamber. Within its centre was a type of platform that Daylen could feel surging with energy. His attention was then drawn to the little girl, Amalia. She was knelt by a cat.

"Oh look, someone's come to play," Amalia said, her eyes lighting up. "You have come to play haven't you? We're playing a guessing game, its better with more people."

"We, whose we?" Daylen asked.

"Kitty and me of course, you don't see anyone else here do you? Anyway, you should go if you're not going to play, Kitty finds you distracting," Amalia knelt back down to the cat, stroking its head.

Alpha snarled, bearing his teeth, his fur shaking when he looked at the cat.

"The cat...finds me distracting?" Daylen asked, looking at the cat, his hand instinctively going to his knife.

"Kitty's clever, she says you'll want to take me back to my father, but I'm not going, she would be lonely," Amalia explained.

Then the cat's eyes began to glow and a voice echoed out of it. A woman's voice, gentle and smooth, but underneath it Daylen could hear the same words being spoken.

"You are so kind Amalia, I would miss you dearly if you left," a monstrous voice of sinister intent, hidden by the voice of a beauty.

"The cat...talks?" Alistair asked.

"Of course silly," Amalia giggled.

"Talking is simple enough, once you know how," the 'cat' said.

"I don't think talking to that cat is safe Amalia, get away from it," Daylen said.

"No, kitty's my friend."

"Nothing you say will convince Amalia to go with you, she loves only me now, I am her friend, while you are just a stranger," the demon said.

"I'm not leaving without Amalia," Daylen said.

"Come any closer and you will regret it, I have no desire to fight, only to leave this place. The Mage's wards keep me bound here, but, if you were to solve the mage's riddle, you would release the lock and grant me freedom," the demon explained.

"And Amalia?"

"I wish to see the world through her eyes."

"Possess her, fat chance, besides her father is waiting for her," Daylen said.

"People believe what they want to believe, whatever gives them hope. If the father hopes to see his daughter alive and unharmed, then perhaps he will," the demon explained.

Daylen looked towards the platform. It consisted of multiple tiles that slid along a mechanism. The tiles themselves had directional arrows on them. When he looked towards the trail of magic passing along one tile to the other, he understood that it was a puzzle. Already Daylen could see a possible solution and a way to save Amalia. He could solve the puzzle, utilise the distraction of the demon's freedom to weaken her hold on Amalia so that she could run free.

"Fine," he said. "I'll help you break the wards."

"No...I can hear it in your voice, you lie, you mean to deceive me! I will not allow it!" the demon seethed.

"No Kitty!" Amalia yelled.

"You will not take the child from me, she shall be mine forever!"

A dark cloud began to surround the pair. The cat floated off of the ground, turning to Amalia. She backed away a few steps before clutching her head.

"NO!" Daylen yelled as the cat glowed.

He tried to get near the cloud, but his arm suddenly surged with pain. Daylen fell to his knee and looked towards Amalia. The cat had disappeared and the girl convulsed. Then the cloud faded and Amalia emerged. A disturbing smile spread across her face and Daylen realised, this was not the girl. A white light consumed her body, changing her. Gone was the little girl, she grew taller, her form slimmer. Talons extended from her hands, silk robes covered her lower body and arms and chains formed on her breasts. Horns grew out of the sides of her head and she floated off of the ground.

"A desire demon," Alistair identified the creature.

Though it had the form of a voluptuous, purple skinned woman, it spoke with a monstrous voice.

"I CAN SENSE THE FEAR IN YOU MORTAL!"the demon yelled.

Portals of fire appeared in the ground and demons of wrath spouted from them. They screamed and burned the ground they slithered across. The Desire demon threw her arms around, releasing a shockwave that made Daylen stumble back. A blade grazed his shoulder, drawing blood from it. Alistair got in the demon's way as she threw another air blade, slamming against his shield. Leliana drew her knives and Alpha rushed towards the Desire demon. The Mabari jumped over the wrath demons and then pounced on the Desire Demon. She roared as the hound sunk his teeth into her wrist. They grappled, the demon throwing Alpha aside. But he had taken a chunk of her arm off, spitting the flesh onto the floor before running around a pillar to dodge the demon's spells.

'Save my daughter,' Daylen remembered Matthias begging of him.

Again his hand shook, the burnt hand that Morrigan and her mother had treated. Alistair stabbed one of the wrath demons with his sword and blocked the other's fist with his shield. Leliana dragged her daggers across the demon's side and jumped back to avoid the swipe of another. Alpha seemed intent on killing the Desire demon, dodging the blades of air she released and using his body weight to tackle her, knocking her off balance. One of her blades sliced through a wrath demon, truly Mabari were as intelligent as people said.

'Kitty no,' Daylen remembered the terror across the girl's face.

Fumes of dark smoke emanated from his burnt arm. His eyes slid into a pair of feral slits and he snarled.

"Fear, no," he growled. "RAGE!"

He rushed forward, slicing through the neck of a wrath demon. The Desire demon threw her wind blades, only for the dark tendrils around Daylen's hand to split them apart. She released electricity from her finger tips, but Daylen raised his hand. The electricity slammed into his hand, feeding the darkness around it.

"My anger, over what you did to that girl," he seethed.

Alpha bit the demon's ankle, tearing it and bringing her to the ground. Daylen drew his dagger and held it with both hands.

"WANNA FEEL THAT ANGER! YOU BITCH!" he roared.

Electricity sparked around Daylen and he rushed forward. Alpha jumped aside as Daylen drove his dagger through the Desire demon's chest. He snarled, drinking in the shock on the demon's face. Then, layers of her skin were suddenly peeled away, her horns broke apart, and her face changed. Daylen stepped back in horror, looking at the body of Amalia, pierced by his own dagger. He looked at his hands, before he let out a scream of anguish. It paled in comparison to Matthias's when he saw Daylen tearfully carry back her body. They lost time as Matthias grieved his daughter, and Daylen even helped burn her on a pyre.

"Take the golem, it has brought nothing but sorrow to our family, perhaps you can make better use of it," Matthias said.

"What will you do?" Leliana asked.

"It's further than Redcliffe, but I'll go to Denerim, there's nothing left for me here," he said.

Daylen nodded his head. Matthias lifted his bag onto his shoulder and turned away.

"Thank you," he whispered, "for at least trying!"

'What good is trying, when your failure results in tragedy?' Daylen thought as he sat and looked at the stars.

Shale would be useful, so that part of their mission had succeeded at least. But a little girl was dead, Daylen looked at his dagger and remembered the look of peaceful content on her face.

'I will not rationalise death, I will not,' he shook his head.

Then as he sat and thought about it he realised, she had died because he could not convince someone of his sincerity, false sincerity, he was a bad liar. He raised his head as Morrigan approached.

"You have added a golem to our merry band, yet you sit here and mope, what is it that happened?" Morrigan asked.

"Oh Morrigan, you do care," Daylen smirked. "I was hoping it would be bigger," he said and Morrigan laughed.

It wasn't an unpleasant thing to listen to, she was an attractive woman, beautiful even. But still Daylen was cautious, he knew he would need to be from now on.

"So did you grow up in the Korcari wilds?" he asked her.

"Why do you ask me such pointless questions? I do not probe you for useless information, do I?" she asked.

"You can ask me anything Morrigan."

"Beg pardon then whilst I jump for joy," she huffed. "What is it you asked me? If I 'grew up' in the wilds? A curious question, where else do you picture me?"

"For many years it was simply Flemeth and I. The Wilds and its creatures were more real to me than Flemeth's tales of the worlds of man. In time I grew curious, I left to explore what lay beyond. Never for long, brief forays into a civilised wilderness."

"And you remained unnoticed?" Daylen asked.

"For the most part, Flemeth taught me well. For all that I had been taught however the truth of the civilised lands proved to be...overwhelming," there was something in her eyes as she spoke, a feeling he had only seen when she and Flemeth parted.

For the briefest moment he saw shock, surprise, fear perhaps on her face.

"I was unfamiliar with so much, so confident and bold was I, yet there was much that Flemeth could never have prepared me for," she continued.

"Yet you continued on, very daring, that sounds like you," Daylen said.

"Equal parts daring and foolhardy, perhaps," she laughed.

"Only once was I accused of being a witch of the wilds, and that by a Chasind who happened to be travelling with a merchant caravan. He pointed and gasped and began shouting in his strange language, and most assumed he was casting some curse upon me. I acted the terrified girl and naturally he was arrested," she explained.

"That was quick thinking," Daylen said.

"Men are always willing to believe two things about a woman: one, that she is weak, and two, that she finds him attractive," Morrigan said.

"Whilst women assume two things about men: one, that they're smarter than them, and two, that they want to sleep with them. Wrong in both cases, I never thought you were weak for an instant Morrigan, and not many people would find this," he traced his hand over the burn mark on his face, "attractive."

"And did you assume I thought myself smarter than you?" Morrigan asked.

Daylen crossed his arms and tilted his head, giving her a look that spoke for itself.

"Well, you are correct in that, and did you not immediately want to bed me?" she grinned as he blushed.

"We'd at least have dinner first," he chuckled.

"I played the weakling and batted my eyelashes at the captain of the guard, child's play," Morrigan said. "The point being that I was able to move through human lands fairly easily, whatever humans think a witch of the wild looks like, tis not I. Not that I did not have trouble, there are things about human society which have always puzzled me, such as the touching-why all the touching for a simple greeting?"

"Touching?" Daylen raised his eyebrows, what kind of greetings had Morrigan been having? "Do you mean a handshake?" he asked.

"To begin with yes, what is the point of touching my hand? I find it an offensive intrusion," Morrigan said.

"Another assumption people make actually, that they can judge a person by a hand shake," Daylen said.

"What do you mean?" Morrigan asked.

"Plenty of people at the circle would talk as if it was all in the handshake. That a firm handshake was a strong person, or a weak one was a timid or lazy person, as if a person can be so easily judged," Daylen explained.

"I never thought of it that way, what a foolhardy way of judging someone," Morrigan said.

"Sometimes it could work, but you need more than a handshake, what else troubled you?" Daylen asked.

"There were many nuances that Flemeth could never tell me of, when to look into another's eyes, how to eat at a table. How to bargain without offending, none of these things I knew. I still do not understand it all, truth be told. But then I gave up long ago any hope of doing so. When I returned to the wilds last, I swore to Flemeth that I had no intention of leaving again," she explained.

"So the joke's on you then," Daylen said.

"You are a fine one to be pointing out the humour of fate. Shall we examine your predicament , on the whole? Let's not, I prefer the jest on me to the jest on you," Morrigan said.

"That's too bad, I would have wanted to trade, always wanted an old hag who talks to much for a mother," Daylen said and Morrigan laughed.

"Oh that part you do not want, and Daylen," she bent down, tracing her fingers over his burn mark. "There is something rather attractive about scars," she said and smirked as Daylen moved his head away.

As Morrigan walked away smirking, Daylen shook his head. True she was beautiful, but a lot of the time attraction ended at simply looking. She was dangerous, of that he had no doubt. Just as another could be dangerous. Leliana approached, holding a bowl of stew.

"I thought you'd be hungry, and I wanted to see if you were all right," she said.

"Thank you," he said, taking the bowl from her and setting it beside him on the grass.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Daylen raised his head, speaking the only lie he was good at.

"I'm just fine," he put on a smile.

Leliana looked at him for a moment, obviously analysing him as she had the men in Redcliffe. When she turned away, Daylen knew it was time to analyse her properly as well.

"So what would someone like you be doing in a Lothering Chantry?" he asked.

"And what is meant by 'someone like me'?" she asked, turning towards him, a subtle smirk crossing the corner of her mouth.

"You know, a beautiful, charming woman like yourself," he said.

"And there were no beautiful, charming women in the cloisters you'd think?" she chuckled. "You would be wrong, there were many young initiates in the Lothering cloister, all of them chaste and virtuous, it added to their mystique. Because then, they were forbidden, and forbidden fruit is the sweeter, no?"

"Haven't really tried, wouldn't actually, it is their way to abandon the physical. What of you?" Daylen asked.

"I took no vows, I was only affirmed," she said.

"So your fruit isn't forbidden then?" he smirked as he saw her blush.

"My fruit? Well, it is not technically forbidden, but it's not freely given either, not everyone gets a bite," Leliana said.

She blushed again as Daylen rolled his head back and laughed.

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation," she muttered. "The point is no, I did not take vows!"

"So...this vision of yours," Daylen said when he stopped laughing.

Her stance became less relaxed, vulnerable in a way, perhaps embarrassed. Yet still she faced him, her face showing her hesitation, but something else too.

"I knew this would come up sooner or later, I don't know how to explain, but I had a dream. In it there was an impenetrable darkness, it was so dense, so real. And there was a noise, a terrible ungodly noise, I stood on the peak and watched as the darkness consumed everything and when the storm swallowed the last of the suns' light, I...I fell, and the darkness drew me in," Leliana explained.

"You dreamed of the Blight?" Daylen asked.

"I suppose I did, that was what the darkness was no? When I woke I went to the Chantry's gardens as I always do, but that day, the rose bush in the corner had flowered, everyone knew that bush was dead, it was grey and twisted and gnarled, the ugliest thing you ever saw. But there it was, a single, beautiful rose, It was as though the maker stretched out his hand to say, even in the midst of this darkness, there is hope, and beauty, have faith."

"And this is what made you want to help me?"

"In my dream I fell, or maybe I jumped, I'd do anything to stop the Blight, I know that we can do it. There are so many good things in the Maker's world, how can I sit by while the Blight devours everything?"

"The Chantry says the Maker has left us," Daylen said.

"He's still here, I can hear him in the wind and the waves, I feel him in the sunlight that warms my skin. I know what the chantry says about the Maker, and what should I believe? What I feel in my heart, or what others tell me?" Leliana asked.

"Just believe what you feel is right Leliana," he said.

"Thank you, it's nice to find someone who agrees, I know what I know, and no one will ever make that untrue," she said.

Daylen nodded his head, smiling slightly. There was something very appealing in what Leliana said, yet still, he could not believe it. If he was younger, back at the circle, he probably would have nitpicked what Leliana had said, found some flaw in her dream and pointed it out. Some people could get flowers wrong, sometimes with enough light and water they recovered. Perhaps she was looking for just some form of light from a bad dream. Plenty of people were afraid of the dark, that kind of nightmare wasn't uncommon, it didn't mean they were predicting certain doom. She heard what people said about the Blight and her mind created a fiction. But he did not share these thoughts with her, there was one thing he had to shatter though.

"But Leliana, you saw what happened earlier, with the girl," he raised his burnt hand, the hand that the darkness had come from. "How could I be the light?" he asked her.

She had no answer for him then, and they moved on. When the caravan got to Redcliffe, they were greeted by armed villagers. Panic spread across the faces of the people they had saved from Lothering, only to deliver them into a new crisis. Some parts of Redcliffe had been burnt down, bodies piled into areas and burning. Families grieving and men setting up defences at the Chantry.

"Bann Teagan," Alistair called out to a man coordinating the others.

"Alistair, is that you?" the older man asked.

They grasped one another's shoulders, smiling.

"Loghain told us what happened at Ostagar, I knew he was lying, thank the Maker you survived," Teagan said.

"Daylen, meet Teagan Guerrin, Bann of Rainesfere and brother of Arl Eamon. Teagan this is my fellow Grey Warden, Daylen Amell," Alistair said.

Daylen put his fists to his shoulders, the standard Ferelden salute, an action that Teagan repeated.

"Who are these people who are with you?" Teagan asked.

"The villagers of Lothering, those whom survived the darkspawn arrival, a few are even survivors from Ostagar," Daylen said.

"You have survivors from Ostagar with you, let me see them, let me speak with them!"

Daylen guided Teagan to Marian and her family. After retrieving Carver they went to Aveline and some of the other soldiers whom survived. Once they gathered by the windmill overlooked by the castle, they told Teagan everything that had happened at Ostagar. Of Loghain's plan to support the king's reckless charge, the lighting of a fire at the tower of Ishal, and Loghain's betrayal.

"So it is as I suspected, Loghain abandoned the king, then pointed at the Grey Wardens," Teagan shook his head, sitting upon a rock and running his hands through his hair.

"We know that Loghain has declared the Grey Wardens traitors, but what has happened at Denerim?" Daylen asked.

"He called a Landsmeet, most of the Bannorn and Arling answered his call, with King Cailan dead, Loghain has declared himself chancellor of Ferelden, to rule during this time of crisis," Teagan explained. "He has declared Arl Howe the new Arl of Denerim, and civil war has unfortunately broken out."

"What?" Daylen turned to Teagan in shock. "Why? Why are they fighting now when the darkspawn are on the move?"

"Arl Howe, before Ostagar, he attacked Highever," Teagan said.

"But I thought that Rendon Howe and Teryn Bryce Cousland were friends," Aveline said.

"It seems that Howe concealed ambitions and resentment for years, when Bryce's eldest son Fergus took the majority of their men to Ostagar, Howe attacked the castle."

"Fergus Cousland's men never made it through the wilds, he's been missing ever since the Darkspawn ambushed them," Marian said.

"That leaves the closest heir unaccounted for. Howe's men slaughtered nearly everyone at the castle, included guests from Denerim, Bryce and his wife Eleanor, and Fergus's wife Oriana and son Oren," Teagan lowered his head as he spoke, closing his eyes in anger.

"How old was the boy?" Alistair asked.

"Five years," Teagan said.

Marian gasped, Carver grit his teeth together and Aveline punched the palm of her hand in anger. Their attention was drawn to Daylen and they saw the flame spark across his hand.

"I suppose people weren't willing to follow him after that," he said.

"Arl Howe couldn't kill the Teryn's younger son, Aedan Cousland, he managed to escape the castle, and has gathered some of the Banns to attack Amaranthine, he killed Howe's son Thomas, as well as Thomas's wife and child," Teagan explained.

"People won't follow Howe because he' s a traitor and a murderer, and the same now applies to Cousland right?" Daylen asked.

"That's correct!"

"Vengeance, " Daylen shook his head in disapproval. "Then again, I suppose I wouldn't know!"

"This is why we've come to Redcliffe, to get Eamon's support in calling a Landsmeet," Alistair said.

"I'm sorry Alistair, but I'm afraid my brother fell ill not long after Ostagar, Isolde has had the knights seeking medicine. Eamon has fallen into a deep sleep, he is alive, yet nothing can wake him. Not long after I returned from Denerim, another crisis befell Redcliffe, the castle was cut off from the village, a great mist formed over it. When night passed, undead creatures attacked the village," Teagan explained and the gathered group looked up at the castle in shock.

Daylen leant against the windmill, looking down at the village. He saw the villagers, all of them working to prepare defences around the Chantry. As Alistair spoke with Teagan, Daylen made his way down to the building.

"BEVIN! BEVIN!" a girl was screaming out.

She was a common born girl, blonde haired, and had clearly been crying. Daylen walked over and asked her what was wrong.

"My brother, by the Maker, I can't find him, he was with me in the Chantry and I turned my back for one moment," the girl said.

"Where is your mother?" Daylen asked.

"She, she was dragged off by the dead, and all we could do was watch," she said.

She had fallen to her knees, balling her eyes. Daylen knelt beside her, patting her back lightly.

"I will find him, I promise you I will find him, he's Bevin right? What's your name?"

"Kaitlyn!"

"Where's your house Kaitlyn?"

When she pointed it out to him, that was where Daylen started his search. It was a modest place, but no doubt a place where many happy memories had been forged. He heard a banging near the wardrobe and smirked. As he walked towards it, Leliana entered.

"Is anyone in there?" Daylen asked, knocking lightly against the door.

"What are you doing here?" a boy on the other side asked, trembling, though still gathering some courage. "This isn't your house, get out," he demanded.

On the other side, a blonde haired boy hugged his knees, shaking with fear and grief.

"Are you Kaitlyn's brother? Bevin, Kaitlyn's at the chantry sick with worry," Leliana said.

"I don't want to go back there, if I go back there Kaitlyn will cry and talk about mother, the priests will offer prayer, and that didn't help mother before...I hate it there, I hate it," Bevin said.

The terror and fear in his voice was obvious, but so too was the sorrow. He had watched his mother be dragged away, and could only assume she had become part of the Undead. It was a violation to her, as bad as rape, for her will to be defiled after death. This, Daylen imagined was what was going through the boy's mind.

"I hate the Chantry too Bevin, I can't stand being in one for more than a few minutes," Daylen laughed slightly, and he sat on the ground, leaning his head against the wardrobe. "But it's one of the safest places right now, you have a better chance there then in this wardrobe, why did you run out? Especially with your sister so upset."

Bevin lowered his head, what Daylen said made him think about his sister then, and he regretted not thinking of her before.

"I couldn't stop her crying, I couldn't say a damn thing, I didn't know what to say or what to do," he lowered his head.

His voice croaked and trembled because of the tears.

"Bevin, come back to the Chantry, stay long enough and you and your sister..." Leliana began, but was cut ogg.

Daylen had raised his hand, stopping her from speaking some kind of religious platitude. It probably would have helped, it probably would have been true even, but it wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"Keep talking Bevin, tell me why you came here," he said.

"My grandfather was a dragon slayer, we still have his sword, I thought that if I took the sword I could protect everyone," Bevin said.

"But then you came to the wardrobe," Daylen said, his voice full of understanding. "I grew up mostly in a tower, getting taught how to use magic, when it came to combat I got so scared of hurting people I ran off to hide in a wardrobe, it became a usual place for people who were scared, there was a time I couldn't go in there because someone was already hiding. Then I realised that hiding wasn't really being brave!"

"I suppose you're right," Bevin said, and sighed as he pushed against the door.

Daylen stepped away from the wardrobe and smiled at Bevin. The boy looked at him, in admiration, in awe, the fear was still there but there was something else too.

"Deciding to take up your father's sword is brave Bevin, and there's nothing wrong with a little fear too, caution keeps you smart and gives you an edge. Courage doesn't just automatically exist, it grows from fear, to be brave you have to be afraid first, it's about facing your fears. I have no doubt your grandfather was afraid Bevin, but he took up that sword and charged anyway," Daylen explained.

"Thank you, you're right," Bevin said.

"It was a good idea, I'll take it up for you Bevin, that's what I can do for you right now, the best you can do is go to your sister, you being with her helps more than you know."

Bevin reached into the wardrobe, pulling out a sword without a sheath. It was Elvan, a Dar'Misaan, a type of long sword. The boy knelt, lifting the blade and offering the hilt to Daylen. He took it, the handle was made of wood, a circular hilt separating it from the blade. Then there was the blade itself, Viridian, giving it a green/gray sheen, it curved only slightly, making it the ideal weapon to slice. He ran his hand over the flat end of the blade, nature runes had been set into the blade. Though it had been some time since it had been used, a whetstone would make it fit for purpose again.

"This is a good sword Bevin, I'll give it back when the fight is over, be with your sister, I'll be brave from this point on," Daylen grasped the boy's shoulder and smiled.

Leliana knew well the look that was on Bevin's face, the look of hope. As brother and sister embraced in the Chantry, Leliana walked to Daylen's side.

"This Daylen, this is why I think you are the light," she said.

She left Daylen to his thoughts. He lifted up the blade and pressed his forehead against the flat of it. He couldn't save Amalia, but he would save this village.

Next Chapter 6: In pursuit of monsters

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, the story of Redcliffe will continue in chapter 8. Next time we go to Chimeron and his plans in Westeros, whilst Revka finally takes on a handmaiden.