Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or A Song of Ice and Fire

This chapter, the paths of the Griffin and Phoenix begin to merge, the start of the first crossover arc of this story and an original questline for the Warden.

Game of Dragons

They were sat in Aerys's quarters, again facing each other in a game of chess. Fausten had taken Aerys's queen, but Fausten had lost a great deal of his pawns in the attempt. Aerys stroked his chin, thinking carefully on his next strategy, even as he moved a rook to be taken by Fausten's knight.

"They said that Daenys Targaryen had a prophetic dream that foretold the fall of great Valyria, Daenys the Dreamer they called her afterwards, her prophecy proved to be true," Aerys took Fausten's knight and smirked.

"I'm aware of this," Fausten muttered.

"It was also said that Visenya Targaryen knew magic," Aerys said.

"Yes, but magic died out a long time ago, hell, with the history of Westeros this place should have the thinnest Veil in the entire world," Fausten said.

"The Veil?" Aerys looked at his friend in confusion.

"Oh, that's the barrier between our world and the Fade, the dreaming place where spirits dwell. Mages have a stronger connection to it than most," Fausten explained.

"And if we were to restore our connection to the Fade, then we would restore the magic of the world," Aerys said.

"It would take an event of significance to restore that connection, short of collapsing the wall, or dragons returning, or a genocide, I don't see what could restore magic to this land," Fausten stated and Aerys grinned.

"Well you listed three possibilities," he said.

"I can't have given you an idea Aerys," Fausten said.

"One can dream Faust, one can dream, I suppose I just want to ride a dragon, or at least have the fire of one," Aerys said.

"Ever heard of the danger of playing with fire?"

"Fire cannot kill a dragon!"

"Not true," Fausten said as he took Aerys's bishop. "Even dragons will melt when faced with a particularly strong fire!"

The Phoenix and the Griffin

Chapter 15: Virtue

Daylen looked at Connor, cautious of the boy in the demon's arms. He seemed to be both child and pet to her as she stroked his hair. She looked at the burning shadow that was Daylen's manifestation and grinned, rising as she stroked the gold chain pinned to her breast.

"It is here I am most powerful, and yet I have no wish to engage your power, nor should you be so eager to engage mine," she said.

"Perhaps, we should converse instead," she swayed her hips slightly as she approached Daylen, standing blocking his view of Connor.

"What could I possibly have to talk to you about?" Daylen asked.

"I possess the boy's soul. We could battle for it, or we could negotiate like civilised beings, if you are smart, you could even come out ahead."

"I doubt that," Daylen scoffed.

"I am desire. Whatever you creatures of the living world want, I seek to provide. Lust, power, greed, these are my province. Perhaps there are things you wish for, let us pause and speak of them. It costs nothing but a moment of your time," the Desire demon took a step towards Daylen.

He backed away cautiously, the pebbles around him shaking slightly, electricity sparked between him and the Desire demon, whom simply smirked at his fear.

"We could talk all day about the things I want, my uncle back, my family reunited, my cousin's home restored to them, the end of the blight, world peace, mass enlightenment that doesn't involve zealous devotion to an absent god. The only thing you could give me right now is the release of the boy," Daylen explained, taking a step forward with more determination than the Demon was accustomed to.

"The boy is useless to me without the father, I release one, I release both. What if you could persuade me to leave voluntarily? No fuss and no bloodshed," Desire said.

"And what about all the suffering you have wrought?" Daylen asked.

"Come now surely that means nothing to a man such as yourself, a coward, an assassin, a blood mage, a murderer, you've forgiven all," Desire laughed.

She shifted as she spoke, to the man imprisoned at Ostagar. A man who Daylen got food for. To Zevran, then Jowan and Sten before she returned to her normal form, smirking at him.

"This is about your desire, not my punishment. I'll never feel regret for anything I've done," she said.

"That's the difference between us and you," Daylen said.

"At least hear the proposition, you have tried hard, ease your suffering. Reduce the risk to yourself, if you fail then the destruction will continue, or the templars will slaughter the boy and the magic that keeps the father alive will fade," the Desire demon hovered off of the floor, floating around Daylen, allowing Connor to awaken.

But the boy didn't seem to be aware of anything that was going on around him. He was aimlessly walking about, a smile on his face.

"I abandon the boy...for now. But I retain the contract he and I made, and many years from now, I may return and claim what is mine. This will be long after whatever you want is done. In exchange, I will provide something of value to you, something you desire, what say you?"

"How about I make you an offer?" Daylen asked and the Desire demon raised her head curiously.

"You leave Connor be, let me return with him and you will never bother his family or anyone else again. Do this, and I'll let you live," Daylen said.

The Desire demon looked at him, the way the rubble shifted around him, the way flames surrounded him and lightning flickered around him. Other spirits were drawn to him, spirits of defiance, of courage and valour. They flocked to him and his virtue. She hovered above the floor, flying to Connor's side and grabbing his shoulders.

"This boy will grow wise and strong as you are, and through him I will leave this place and achieve my own desires," she hissed at Daylen.

The ground began to shake, lightning flashed in the sky and Connor's eyes glowed purple. He hovered like the Desire demon, whom disappeared, an avatar of her horns glowing on Connor's forehead.

"You will not fold to desire, THEN LET YOUR NIGHTMARES TAKE YOU!" Connor screamed in a mixture of his voice and the Desire demons.

The ground cracked beneath Daylen, and he fell, the shadows and light flowed away from his body. He became himself again, crashing through a stone ceiling. Daylen coughed, rubbing his sore knees and back as he rose. His helmet, shield and sword both materialised on his body, a staff appearing too on his back. Daylen stood his ground as the darkness gave way to a circular hill surrounded by castle ruins. In a pool of blood two men materialised and Daylen stepped back in shock. Daveth in his green and black leather armour, twirling his daggers around. Beside him, drawing his sword and encased in silver and gold armour was Jory, his shield bearing four spikes on it.

"Should have taken the offer Daylen," 'Daveth' taunted.

"Now we must punish you for it," 'Jory' flicked his sword and got into a stance.

Daylen rushed towards his opponents. Daveth took two jumps to the side as Jory and Daveth clashed swords. The nimble fighter then brought his left dagger towards Daylen's back, only for Daylen to bash him with his shield. Daveth rolled over the shield, then over Jory's shield before he dropped a smoke bomb. Daylen's vision was obscured, leaving him vulnerable to a shield bash that rattled his equilibrium. He parried Jory's sword and blocked a second shield bash, head butting the man with his helmet, he knocked Jory back.

'Not the best idea to fight me with memories of old comrades,' Daylen thought.

Daveth ran around Daylen, approaching him only when Jory locked blades with him. Daylen prepared himself, waiting for the moment when Daveth would strike. He remembered something Alistair told him about fighting opponent's with shields, and something that Zevran told him about assassins. Once Jory was close enough to thrust his knife for Daylen's armpit, Daylen sidestepped and tripped Jory. The knight stumbled forward, Daveth's knife sticking into his side. Daylen then yelled, lunging his sword through the Jory's neck, driving it through into Daveth's chest too.

'This is why I sparred with both Alistair and Zevran at the same time, they always beat me. Daveth and Jory were both good fighters, but inferior versions of the respective disciplines that Alistair and Zevran fight with,' Daylen yanked the blade out and swung the blood off.

Jory and Daveth fell to their knees, blood leaking from their mouths. They both coughed and spat out puddles of red, a red that gradually turned black. Their skin began to rot and their eyes turned white.

"Ghouls," Daylen identified the new creatures.

Blighted versions of the former Warden recruits rose and snarled at Daylen. He put his shield on his back and held the sword with both hands. Concentrating, Daylen shifted the blade into an elf long sword, passing fire through the blade. He adjusted his footing and his grip, remembering the lessons of both Sten and Leliana. The former for the grip of a sword with a long handle, and the latter for the footing to ensure maximum speed during a duel. Daylen lost count of the number of times Leliana was able to bring him to the ground. Jory struck first and Daylen parried and side stepped is blows, dodging his shield strikes and diverting the wild slashes of his sword. He tilted his head back to avoid the snap of Jory's draws and jumped to the side when Daveth approached. Daveth moved quickly towards Daylen, locking his daggers around Daylen's sword.

Daylen shoved Daveth back and blocked Jory's sword. Then he parried Jory's shield, stepping to the side and slashing Jory's arm. The appendage and the shield fell to the floor and Daylen quickly turned, deflecting Daveth's daggers. He slashed Jory twice across the chest, turning to parry Jory's sword and slash him across the throat. Daylen reversed the grip on his sword and stepped to the side, driving his sword through Daveth's mouth. Then as he ripped his sword out of Daveth's mouth, he beheaded Jory with one movement.

"Enough of the games Desire, face me, UNLESS YOU'RE A COWARD!" he yelled.

He walked around the fading bodies and ran away from the Grey Warden joining ground. Instead of entering Cailan's throne room though, he came to the chamber that the phylacteries had been kept in.

"You will fail Daylen," a voice spoke above him.

He looked up and narrowed his eyes. A manifestation of Lily, only her robes had armour on them. She drew from her hips a dagger with spikes on the guard and a curved club.

"How could you free him and not accept Desire's offer, it is pure hypocrisy for you to have granted Jowan a second chance and not her," she said.

"Fine, I'll play this game, I did give Desire a pretty fair chance. And you should pick someone else if you want to fill me with guilt," Daylen said.

He removed his shield from his back, deflecting Lily's mace. She moved quickly, quicker than Leliana, almost slithering across the floor like a Shade. He blocked several strikes from both her weapons, forcing her back with a swing of his sword. Reshaping the weapon, he turned it into an axe, hooking it around Lily's mace.

"He was a blood mage, all blood mages are evil, look at what he did to Eamon, and what that did to Connor as a result. This is all because of him and you let him go to avoid punishment," Lily explained.

"Maybe, there's not a lot of point justifying myself to you is there, the image of the woman who abandoned him because she was indoctrinated by a religion's teachings," Daylen snatched the mace from her grip and smashed her across the face with his shield. "A woman who threw herself to judgement for her religious beliefs alone, whom cast aside love and common sense. He cherished you, he lied yeah, but he didn't abandon his love for you. You were the one who betrayed us, NOT HIM!" Daylen crashed his axe into the construct's chest.

Her pained and shocked expression was frozen as the blood rose from her chest. She melted in a puddle of blood and the room suddenly changed again. Daylen turned the axe back into a sword and sheathed it, taking his staff from his back. He reappeared in the harrowing chamber, his opponent already waiting.

"Another test Daylen, you were always good at tests, it's why I turned to blood magic in the first place. Your successes were always my failures," said the image of Jowan.

His purple and blue robes were more intricate than what he always wore. There was gold embroidery across the robes too, and armoured gauntlets over his arms. He carried a bladed staff that crackled with red energy.

"I'm going to mess up again Daylen, you shouldn't have let me go, I will bleed Ferelden dry and when I'm done with is, I'll go to Westeros and bleed your family," his eyes glowed red as he raised his staff.

"Come on, Jowan may have crossed the line and dabbled, but he's much too queasy to do something like that," Daylen grinned.

He twirled his staff around lightning both ends on fire as 'Jowan' threw shards of ice at him. Daylen then slammed his staff into the ground, blocking with a barrier a wave of fire. Bloody veins spread across the construct's face, the blood he controlled dripping off of his staff. He swung the staff around, creating a wave of blood. Daylen rolled to the side as the wave solidified, shaping into red spikes. He stepped back and threw a fireball, then use earth magic on the ground. Jowan deflected the fireball, but fell when the ground caved in. They fell through the Fade, passing images of the pair of them interacting in the circle, of Jowan showing Connor books of magical theory. Jowan fire electricity from his hand, shocking Daylen enough to make him let go of his staff. Spinning, Jowan slowed his fall with mana.

They landed in an upside down version of Redcliffe's throne room. Daylen struck just as Jowan launched a fireball towards him. He passed through the fire, using the fade step to pass through Jowan, turning his skin pale. A dagger of ice materialised in Daylen's hand, he turned towards Jowan and swung the knife towards him. But Jowan blocked the blow with his hand, the blood splattering onto his face. Dragging his staff blade across Daylen's shoulder armour, he pushed Daylen back with a blast. His eyes widened as Daylen created an ice spike and threw it towards him. The spike struck the barrier Jowan conjured.

Daylen rushed forward, drawing the long sword from his belt. He threw his shield, striking Jowan's barrier before it flew back to his arm. Then he covered his sword with mana energy, stabbing through Jowan's shield. Jowan parried the thrust and grinded the blade and staff against Daylen's sword and shield respectively. They both used Earth magic on the ground, disrupting one another's footing. Only Jowan materialised a hilt in his hand. Blood spread out from the hilt in a parody of a Knight-Enchanter spirit blade. Jowan slashed Daylen across the chest and then drove his staff blade through his shoulder, Daylen yelled, feeling 'Jowan' manipulate his blood. His body felt as if it had been lit on fire from the inside, and sadistic smile was just another piece of evidence that he wasn't fighting Jowan. Daylen slammed his head into Jowan's, drawing blood from his mouth. Using his own blood magic, Daylen healed his wound. Then he raised his sword over his head and brought it down on Jowan's blade, breaking his defence. With a final swing, he cut off the creature's arm.

"I ALWAYS HATED YOU!" the construct screamed.

The blood seeping out of his shoulder stopped near the floor. Suddenly, the blood formed a maw that snapped at Daylen. It trapped Daylen's arm and Jowan thrust his blade towards Daylen's neck. At the last moment however, Daylen diverted the blade into the maw, piercing its flesh. He then dropped his sword and grabbed hold of the blade, charging it with electricity. The volts passed through Jowan's body, burning his skin. Daylen pulled the sword back to his grip and cut through the maw. Then with three slashes, he cut an X into Jowan's chest before sweeping the blade through his neck. He pulled his hand back, drawing blood from the wounds into a ball.

"HAVE IT BACK!" Daylen yelled.

Solidifying the ball of blood, he smashed the iron like construct into his opponent's face, caving it in. Daylen slammed the body against the ground and immediately ran forward.

"ENOUGH HIDING DEMON!" he roared.

He jumped towards the throne, knowing the image would be a gateway to the desire's of the demon, and to an unconscious degree Connor's too. Most little boys dreamed of being the gallant king from the fairy tales, or of being in charge. He landed in the fields of Redcliffe, the long grass had turned red and the castle in the distance was burning. There were people around the field, residents of the village, servants of the castle. Their skin was deathly pale and they wept tears of blood. Daylen instead focused on the figure ahead of him. He was a young man wearing purple circle mage robes, his staff had two dragon heads holding a purple orb between them. The young man turned and smiled, eyes glowing purple, the horn avatar glowing on his forehead.

"This is what I could make him mage," the voice was much like Connor's, but broken and deeper as a man's voice would be. "Had you accepted my offer, he would live his happy life, grown strong, and even stronger when I join with him. You could have profited from this agreement, how tired are you mage, how much longer do you think your soul will last?"

'Connor' grinned, tapping his staff against the ground. The avatar of the horns grew larger, and purple, ethereal energy surrounded his staff. The energy formed the shape of a great spear, one Connor easily lifted. Daylen prepared his shield and sword, bracing himself as Connor rushed forward.

Lhazar

Dirt and shit, it was what Daenerys had begun to grow accustomed to. Viserys too, though he certainly complained more about it. During their time under the tutelage of James Marcher, Danerys could not deny that her brother was slowly becoming a better person. Still prone to anger, but he had turned his anger on her less. They were becoming accustomed to their new identities, Alexa had helped Dany to style her hair (it came as a surprise to Daenerys that the warrior woman was a good hair dresser). She looked forward through to the day she could grow her hair back to its normal length. James had taken some of his troops to Qarth, and instructed Viserys to stay in Lhazar and protect the village. It was clear that the shepherds were loyal to James, as they had made their stay as comfortable as they could.

"Princess," the godswife Mirri Maz Dur said to Daenerys as she entered her tent.

She was a heavy set, flat nosed woman over forty years. Some of the people called her a Maegi, a blood mage. Daenerys had heard how some magicians used blood as a way of telling the future. The books on Thedas that James had given her, also told her of the great taboo surrounding blood magic. She felt uneasy at times around Mirri, but the woman regarded her like she did the other children she looked after.

"Has there been any word from Faust...I mean James?" Dany asked.

"We do not often receive ravens here princess," Mirri smirked. "And do not fear, I know of Fausten Amell and his plans for you, and for the line of dragons."

"You know him?"

"He saved my village from the Dothraki, he defeated the undefeated Khal and promised that my village no longer fear the Dothraki, and I believe him. He has employed me to educate you on magic for the duration of your stay," Mirri explained.

"Magic is gone," Daenerys said.

"It has been suppressed in this part of the world, but there are certain elements, that allow us to temporarily restore our link to the fade," Mirri set a mortar and some herbs on the table.

She ground the herbs, motioning for Daenerys to sit. Daenerys knelt in front of Mirri as she began to burn the grounded herbs. The godswife removed a pouch from her pile of ingredients and put the contents of it into the fire. Daenerys stared at the small grains of blue crystals in awe.

"This is lyrium, a rare element that people do not dig for here, it is a source of power for mages in Thedas, and a primal ingredient in many of their rituals. There is power in blood," Mirri shook a vial of blood in front of Daenerys.

"Whose is that?" she asked.

"This princess, is one of Fausten's most prized possessions. With some additional chemicals to preserve it, this is the blood of someone Fausten's values greatly, taken when they were a mere child. Just by holding it I can tell, there is powerful magic behind this blood. A task he has left me, and a task he has left you, revolves around this vial of blood and the Fade," Mirri explained.

"What does he wish of me?" Daenerys asked.

"If you possess the gift of magic, then it will be easy for you, put some of your blood into the fire," Mirri commanded.

"What will happen?"

"Breathe in the fumes, and if the boy this blood belongs to is within the Fade, then your dream will be linked to his. What Fausten desires is for you to meet this man, to take the measure of his soul, and answer a question that Fausten wants answered more than anything in the world, a question that will leave him free of distractions. That way, he will be able to forge your new empire in earnest," Mirri explained.

"What is the question?"

Mirri pulled on Dany's hair, whispering the instructions into her ear. Dany gasped, such a question seemed strange to her. But she still nodded her head, eager to carry out this task for a man who was more father to her than she had had since her birth. She cut her finger, letting the blood flow into the fire. Then she closed her eyes and breathed in the fumes. Mirri opened the vial of blood and poured the contents into the flames. She then began to chant, her voice echoing out of the tent, making the villagers and mercenaries look at it in fear.

Fade

Daylen and the Desire demon clashed, their weapons releasing sparks across the field. They flowed through the glass, slamming their weapons together again and again. Both were knocked back by the force of the impacts, but quickly recovered the attack again. 'Connor's' spear bounced off Daylen's shield and he swung his sword for a counter. But Desire stepped back and parried the blow, thrusting the spear towards Daylen's face. He tilted his head, the weapon dragging against his helm. Daylen then barged into Connor with his shield and knocked him back with a swing of his sword. But rather than fall onto his back, the demonic mage floated through the grass. He flew at Daylen, striking his shield from one angle, then dashing to the right and attacking again at that angle. Dashing back and forth, he forced Daylen back with his blows.

"Come and face Desire," he twirled his staff around, conjuring a rune behind him.

He thrust his hand forward, unleashing a flurry of purple spikes. Much to his shock though Daylen used his sword and shield to break the projectiles. He struck each one that came at him, and when he stopped swinging his weapons, he revealed they had been covered by rock armour.

"Through the weapons," Desire gasped.

Daylen covered his shield in flames and threw it at Desire, the projectile slamming into a runic shield the demon summoned. Dragging his sword across the ground, Daylen created a wave of ice that knocked Desire to the side. With the demon off balance, Daylen ran up the slide and used a fade step to launch himself at Desire, crashing his sword into the demon's staff. They plummeted to the ground, both rolling down a hill towards the village itself. Daylen rose and ran at Desire, for a moment, Connor's form with replaced with the demon herself. But she turned back into Connor and hovered off of the ground, firing one blast of energy after another at Daylen. He fade stepped from one point to another, deflecting bolts too with his sword and chasing after the demon.

"Such a waste, you could have had more, do you not desire more?" the demon demanded, creating rows of chains in an attempt to bind Daylen.

But Daylen deflected the chains and continued rushing his opponent. Energy surrounded Desire's staff again, this time forming a hammer like shape he used to bash Daylen aside. His sword shattered and his armour began to fall apart. He rolled across the floor, eye glowing through the visor of his helmet.

"TELL ME YOUR DESIRE!" the demon roared.

He flew over Daylen, raising his hand and summoning a rune that eclipsed the village. Out of that rune he rained down shards of purple crystals on the village, and on Daylen.

King's landing

Aristanna thrashed in her bed, sweat running down her face. She was suffering the dreams again, only this time they were much worse. The struggle of her heroes was much more severe this time. She remained asleep, falling into her dream, into her stories. It had been both her gift and her curse, since she had started becoming a woman and not a girl. The first time she bled was when she began seeing the images clearly, seeing the adventures with such clarity that she could swear she was right there with them. Of course she did well to hide the fact that she had bled, people in King's landing tended to get involved in her business. She was a pretty girl with a gift for music and stories, with a good name linked to an obscure but now famous land. Cersei looked at her like a prized horse for breeding, she had begun to 'arrange' for Lancel, her cousin and the king's squire to spend more time with Aristanna.

'One ball and no brain,' was a bit too harsh a description of Lancel. Tywin Lannister tended to tower over all of his family members, making them look like fools with his intellect and drive. Lancel had his qualities, sweetness, in Aristanna's opinion Robert treated him a bit too harshly, king's weren't the easiest people to squire for, and Robert wasn't the easiest person before becoming king. But Aristanna had no interest in Lancel, it wasn't his bumbling or his family name, she could do worse in husband's. Like most of the Amell women, Aristanna wanted to marry for love. Or at the least she wanted her family, not others to determine her best match.

Baelish seemed to be everyone's friend, he was always nice but Aristanna knew his advice had strings attached. As for Varys, he was certainly better than most of the people in king's landing. Not that that was saying anything. Though barring the queen's children (not Joffrey) out of all the people in King's landing Aristanna enjoyed his company and Tyrion's the most. They certainly didn't try to regard her as a political pawn.

Her attempt to forget the dream with her thoughts on King's landing was in vain. When she opened her eyes she was falling out of bed, falling into darkness. She fell deeper and deeper, away from the light, hearing the sounds of destruction. And when she stopped falling, she found herself floating through grass. Crystal spikes had imbedded themselves in the ground, and in front of Aristanna stood a man whose leg and arm had similar spikes imbedded in them, a spike had pierced through his side, and another had gone through his shoulder and out the other side.

She had seen him many times before in her dreams. His demonic helmet at first, the unique armour covering his arm, the shoulder pad and baggy trousers over his legs. But as he turned his head, he saw through the visor, at a glowing red eye. But, unlike with most, she was not afraid of his appearance. Even though behind the helmet, she knew there was a man with burns and scars much like the Clegane lord Sandor. She knew the man behind the helmet, and felt a swell of hope within her as he looked up at the dark figure, pulling the shard of crystal out of his arm.

Daylen Amell, her cousin and pride of the Amells.

He embodied that title in his very stance, in the defiance against the odds and the determination he displayed. But more importantly, he embodied the unofficial words of the Amell clan.

'Let actions speak louder than words,' Aristanna thought, putting her hands to her chest as fire ran across her cousin's hands.

He broke apart the crystal and put his hands downwards. The fire that blew out of his hands threw him into the sky, much to his opponent's shock. Aristanna saw beneath the demon's disguise, through even the voluptuous and horned visage of Desire. A grotesque parody of desire, ghostly energy fused with horned bones and a fanged face with an elongated tongue. It raised its staff as Daylen flew towards him. Daylen slammed his fist into the creature, using a fade step, but instead of applying the ice element to it, he applied lightning. They crashed into the ground like the element, Daylen bashing his opponent's head against the floor. As the impact threw them away from each other, the demon faded in a blink of purple energy. He reappeared behind Daylen, brandishing a pair of gleaming purple swords.

'No,' Aristanna gasped as one of the swords was stabbed into Daylen's shoulder.

Daylen swung around, pushing the demon back. Fire and ice formed in his hands, giving way to two curved short swords. He and the demon began a quick and relentless duel of parries, clashes and dodges. They moved across the village, swords grinding together, both releasing sparks from every clash of their blades. Daylen kept up his assault on the demon, swinging his sword's through the creature's defence again and again. He diverted and smacked through the blades, and Aristanna saw the aura of fear spreading across the demon's form.

'That's it,' Aristanna put her hands together in anticipation.

The demon hovered back, throwing his blades and summoning more around him. They flew at Daylen, but he covered his blades in mana every time he struck the projectiles, passing Earth magic through them to shatter the projectiles every time they flew towards him. With every swing of his arm, he destroyed the constructs of the demons.

'Keep going,' Aristanna urged him.

She felt like cheering, watching her cousin make the demon fall back, making the creature of nightmares, just another monster to be slain. Ploughing through every obstacle, overcoming every attack. Aristanna watched Daylen, the object of her aunt's favour and dreams, whom many of their family members dreamed of. But only Aristanna could see who he truly was, courageous and determined, and the very thing her grandfather dreamed of becoming. Not like those characters from old tales, not like those knights she had heard of, but something else entirely. Daylen kept up his assault, slashing through the shards and rolling to dodge others.

"You are in the presence of the embodiment of Desire, FALL DAMN YOU!" the demon screamed.

'No, he won't, he'll keep going until he wins, until he's saved that child,' Aristanna thought.

Daenerys opened her eyes, and stared up at the world in awe. This new world where islands floated in a yellow sky, where ghostly spirits flew and the very land beneath Daenerys shifted. She looked at her clothes, she was dressed in the leather armour Fausten had given her. There was even a short sword on her waist. Daenerys took a step forward, the ground felt like dirt, then suddenly like sand. Her eyes adjusted, and in the distance, she saw a castle, not like the Essosi or Westerosi architecture that Fausten had shown her. This was Thedosian, she knew it in her bones. She began a walk through the path ahead, and as she did, ghostly figures flew around her. They assumed the forms of skeletal figures with swords, a panicking small folk. Daenerys watched these spirits enact a massacre, feeling a pang of sympathy for the people who suffered such an event.

'Is this truly real, or just a nightmare?' she still struggled to believe, in magic, in the veil, and especially in the worth of one man.

She felt a shiver course through her body as the spirits shaped themselves into several figures. An archer firing her bow true, a wild witch flailing her staff around and grabbing the undead in freezing grips, a quick assassin dashing between his opponents. They made way for a stone giant, the diamonds in its fist shining. It was followed closely by a man certainly tall enough to be considered a giant, fighting alongside a knight with a flaming sword. A hound howled, before a red eyed figure raised his hand and unleashed fire into the sky.

'Fire cannot kill a dragon,' Daenerys believed.

But the flames made her fearful, for they were blue and not orange or red as other flames she had seen before. It was only when the flames faded that she continued along the path, seeing the castle in the distance. She felt her heart pounding against her chest, felt the heat of the flames from earlier, and her legs were shaking. Yet still she advanced, it was what Fausten wished of her after all. And she was curious herself, she wanted to know the young man who occupied Fausten's thoughts.

"CONNOR! CONNOR!" she heard a man yell.

The scenery shifted and she was within the castle, looking at a man rushing from one end of the room to the other.

"SON! WHERE ARE YOU! I CANNOT SEE! THE FOG! THE FOG! CONNOR!" Daenerys felt a pang of sympathy for this man.

"He's lost in the darkness, you should be careful yourself little girl," a voice spoke from the ground.

Daenerys looked to the corner of the room, there was a mouse there, but it couldn't possibly...

"Yes, I'm a talking mouse, this is the Fade dear, don't tell me you were dropped in without any guidance," the mouse laughed as its body glowed.

Within moments it was stood upright, wearing red robes over a black shirt and black trousers. His hands were gloved, and his hair was brown and combed at the back. He crossed his arms as he looked at Daenerys.

"You don't have the look of a circle mage, in fact, I'd dare say you're from a place where magic is seldom used. That place of Jade I wonder? Or the other lands to the East? No, your eyes tell me of a dead place," the 'Mouse-man' grinned as Daenerys frowned at him.

"Who are you to speak to me like that?" she demanded.

"What am I is more the correct term, and don't worry about me...Mouse will do for me, I'm just a casual observer, for a particular mage veering close to the darkness," he explained.

"What do you mean?" Daenerys asked.

"Oh you really are ignorant aren't you?" Mouse scoffed. "You should be more careful here girl, you never know when a demon will pounce on you, and take your body, one can lose themselves here."

"I will not be afraid, I am...I am Daenerys Targaryen, and I will not lose myself," she stood as tall as she could.

But her bravado only made Mouse laugh.

"Targaryen, well you've got some odds to beat, it will be interesting to see," he said.

"I must move on," Daenerys moved past the man, continuing to one of the doors.

"If you do meet Daylen, give him my regards, oh and do be careful dear," Mouse said.

He turned back into the small creature and crawled through a hole in the floor. Daenerys moved on, walking through one of the doors. Only this door led outside, and when Daenerys looked behind her she saw that the field she was on was actually connected to the castle. The castle itself was only partly a castle, some of the 'sections' of it were parts of a village, in place of one of the spires was a windmill, servants were even sweeping at pieces of grass on the floor of the throne room. Daenery's looked over the ledge of the section she stood on, it was suspended in the air.

She turned her head to the crying she could hear in the distance. As she drew closer to it, she could make out the form of a red haired boy kneeling on the grass. But he wasn't alone, she could see a woman standing by him. She could see that the woman was wearing pure white robes, her eyes covered by the hood she wore. Her skin also seemed deathly pale as she touched the top of the boy's head. Daenerys shifted uncomfortably as the boy flinched. She could tell that he was frightened.

"You," the woman's voice seemed to echo in Daenerys's head. "Should not be here, should not have come. You'll never leave, unless he wills it now," the priestess said.

Daenerys hugged her arms, suddenly feeling a great cold around her. The priestess's robes suddenly expanded, and the last thing Daenerys saw was total darkness.

Aristanna widened her eyes as she saw the demon scream. Daylen himself seemed to be surprised to, for he hadn't struck his opponent. The demon shifted between the forms of Desire and Connor, finally stopping on her Desire form. But her right side had sagged, her horns had turned upside down and her fiery hair had become a mere spark.

"No, No, NO!" she screamed. "HE'S MINE! MINE!" the demon yelled in agony as it flew to the ground.

"GET BACK HERE!" Daylen yelled.

He ran to where the Desire demon had landed, only to find her sinking into the ground.

"He has gone into the deep, into the darkest parts of the fade, where none from your realm return, YOU WILL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN!" the demon half laughed, half cried as she disappeared.

Daylen let go of his weapons and clawed at the ground, punched it and once it was clear nothing was there, he raised his head and yelled.

"GIVE CONNOR BACK! DON'T TAKE HIM! DAMN IT!"he roared.

Aristanna could see the tear in his eye. A tear of blood, his form flickered for a moment, as if the waking world was calling him back. He struck his head against the ground and cursed again and again. The young man seemed to have been consumed by utter despair, not that Aristanna could blame him. To have tried so hard, only to fail. She knew such a thing would break her, and she knew that some of her cousin's too might be disheartened by such a thing, that they too would stop for a while.

But he rose, standing tall and putting his hand to his heart. Daylen Amell ran his fist slowly across his face, taking a breath and then continuing onwards.

"Let our actions speak louder than words," Aristanna said, realising that he would never stop.

Even if he had to remain asleep for days, even if he was to fall into a coma. He would save that boy.

"It would be interesting," Aristanna flinched as she heard a voice behind her.

She turned, but saw nothing, until she looked at the ground and saw a Mouse.

"To see if he will lose himself," the little creature said.

Then, the Dreamer woke.

Next Chapter 16: House of the Undying

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. The Fade Jory and Daveth designs were based on the Heroes of Dragon Age game, as were fade Lily's and Jowan's. Next time we go to Fausten and Viserys, as they seek help for a comatose Daenerys, meanwhile, Daenerys herself explores a darker realm of the fade where new terrors lie.