From the Ashes: The Swalling (ch. 15) (Patreon)

"It's not too late to call this off," Shianni told me, a hand going to mine as we brazenly sat upon the wall to the alienage. We were able to see over most buildings, and were granted a decent enough view of the city. The view from the Arls Estate was better, though. There wasn't a whole lot to see, really. Just a bunch of roofs with the occasional thief using them as an entrance or exit. Soris was next to me, idly chewing on a sandwich -- thick with roasted ham, greens, an egg, and squished between two thick pieces of honey bread. A feast for an elf but a snack for Soris and his bottomless stomach.

"It is, actually," I told Shianni as my gaze went out towards the ocean. At this far away, you could enjoy the view without needing to deal with the scent of rotting fish. "Darvik is already setting things in motion," I told her, making a conflicted expression cross over her face.

"There's going to be reprisals. Even if this does work, Azoth," she told me, letting go of my hand. It seemed as if our roles were reversed. I used to be one that tried to talk Shianni and Kallian out of stupid stunts. But, like them, I wouldn't listen. And, like me, Shianni was there for it every step of the way.

I nodded, "I know. I'm prepared for what comes next," I told them both, glancing between them. "Speaking of which, no matter what comes, you two have orders."

"Hmnph?" Soris questioned through his sandwich, blinking at me.

"Soris, I want you in Amaranthine. Pick out fifty Rabbits and take them with you. Through Tanya, we've been developing contacts in the city. Arl Howe ain't much better than Arl Urien when it comes to elves. You'll find plenty of recruits in the city. You'll find more with a thousand sovereigns to get you started," I said and Soris just about inhaled his sandwich at the last bit.

"You're sending us away," Shianni observed, her tone testy.

I was. No matter what came next, Denerim was going to be volatile. "I'm sending you to Gwaren. Teyrn Loghain treats elves right, but the fact of it is that he hasn't been in Gwaren in years. It's remote, but… it's right up to the Brecilian Forest. Come autumn, it's going to be teaming with Dalish Elves. I don't like 'em, but me opinion isn't yours. Send a group into the forest when the time is right, and you should come across a clan one way or the other. If the Sabrae clan finds you… say hi to Merrill for me."

"I don't like this. I don't like this at all," Shianni made her opinion known. "You're going to be alone in this shite hole of a city, Azoth. You'll be dealing with the aftermath on your own."

I would. As it should be since I set this mess into motion. "We need to expand beyond just Denerim. I want the Rabbits to become the dominant gang of every city in Ferelden. Then I want to look to Orlais -- Halamshiral, Jader. Or to the Free Marches. It'll take time. Years. But, soon enough, our reach is going to be as far as Par Vallon.” I voiced my dream for the Rabbits. The Carta provided a model for me to work off of as well as mistakes to avoid.

“None of that's going to happen if you don’t make it through this, Azoth,” Soris told me, what was left of his sandwich falling to the side. His gaze was concerned and his expression clearly displayed his worry.

“I’m not going to die here,” I reassured them both. I had too much to do. Work to be finished. This, in the end, was just another step on the journey rather than the destination. The Rabbits would spread across Thedas until we had a major presence in every single city on the continent. We would grow stronger and more influential until our presence couldn’t be ignored by the highest of kings.

Soris and Shianni looked reassured by that, hearing in my voice that I meant it. I imagine this might seem like a desire to die in a blaze of glory, but it was anything but. No. No matter what came next, I would live. I had to. I needed to see this through to the bitter end. Shianni looked out at the ocean, a weight lifted off of her shoulders, “Do you think… things will go back to normal?” She asked me, not looking at me.

I didn’t answer so she continued. “It's been a year, you know. Since… it happened. I was so angry. All the time. And I still am, but… it's fading, Azoth. Do you think, after this… it’ll start to fade for you too?” She asked me and I knew the truth. Deep in my heart, I knew the truth.

“Ask me when it's over,” I told her. “I’ll know then,” I said, looking out at the sea. The sun was making its way down to the horizon, the sky darkening behind us while the last vestiges of light were dying the sky shades of orange and red. I knew that the hate wouldn’t ever fade. It wouldn’t lessen. Even when everyone was dead and gone, it would still be there. And, for the life of me, I couldn’t tell if that was reassuring or not.

In any case, the boy I used to be wasn’t coming back. The boy who stumbled after Shianni and Kallian, who lacked the confidence to ever take a risk of his own volition, who wanted to be a hero that would go down in history until children hundreds of years from now wanted to play Azoth Surana in a game of Heroes and Humans. There was no coming back to that. Not after everything I’ve done. Not after everything I will do.

Almost as if to agree with me, I caught sight of it. The first plume of smoke as a building went up in flames. The sparks from the fire quickly spread to the cramped buildings around it, the wood covered in spots of tar upon the roofs and sides would make sure of it. Within no time at all, I saw the flames surging high, licking at the sky above while thickening pillars of smoke began to drift upwards.

“That's our cue,” I said, Soris shoving the last of his sandwich into his mouth while I started to drop down the wall to shimmy down with Shianni behind me. We dropped to the bottom just as the sounds of panic started to spread as people realized that there was a fire and it wasn’t contained in the alienage. The three of us dropped to the ground, all sharing a look. Shianni punched me in the shoulder while Soris offered me a firm nod.

With nothing left to say, we all parted ways, each with a task to see through. I strode forward down a back alley, a group of Rabbits materializing from the shadows. All armed with knives shorter than our palms, but that didn’t make them any less deadly -- instead of a normal cutting blade, they were a wedge with a triangle point.

At the rate we killed with them, soon enough, the nobles would decide that elves couldn’t be trusted with knives at all.

“Come on lads. Let's get the show on the road,” I said, earning a cheer as the Rabbits fell in line behind me, smiling ear to ear with their hoods up. More than a dozen followed me and as we entered into the main streets, I saw that the rest of the Rabbits were following their orders. People were calling for the guard as a gang of Rabbits broke into a man’s home, and dragged him out to the street, before slitting his throat in broad daylight.

Another band, as we marched onward to our destination across the King’s Bridge, revealed a gambling den run by the Blighters. A Rabbit emerged from the entrance, sprinting down a back alley with a half dozen Blighters on his tail. As soon as they were gone, a dozen Rabbits strode into the gambling den. The panicked shouts and screaming I heard inside almost drowned out the screams of pain that I heard from the back alley when the Rabbit led the Blighters into an ambush.

All across the city, the same could be seen. The guard was doing what they could to put a stop to it, but the guard was lazy, stretched thin, and they were more preoccupied with dealing with the fire that was threatening to claim the slums. Already, I could smell smoke in the air, people running to and from the slums in a chaotic mess so bad that some murders weren’t noticed until they tripped over the body.

I’ve long since known the locations of the Blighters holdings. The Hounds as well. From where they did business to where they laid their head to rest. Each group of Rabbits was assigned a building or group of Blighters and were told to move when they got the signal -- the fire that was caused by rats dragging burning wicks at the end of their tails. The instructions were to be fast, brutal, then get out of dodge as quickly as possible.

Not everything went to plan every time, I saw when we crossed into a back alley to see a Rabbit beaten into unconsciousness and nearly beaten to death by a group of Blighters that were continuously stomping on him. The Rabbits behind me strode forward, clashing with them in the back alley. There would be some ambushes that didn’t work and times that, despite even numbers, my Rabbits would lose.

I reached down to the sword at my belt, drawing the Keening Blade. The Blighters’ eyes widened at the sight of an elf with an actual sword and the brawl in the back street grew more intense. Casting True Strike upon the blade, I side-stepped a wild swing from a wood axe, my blade darting forward to skewer the human in the throat. Stepping past him, as a Rabbit dodged out of the way of a thrust with a short sword, the Keening Blade lashed out, catching the offending human at the elbow, cutting through his arm like it was nothing. I beheaded him before he even realized that he was dead.

The rest of the Blighters, feeling the tide turn against them, began to sprint away, only to be preyed upon by the rest of the Rabbits. We left their corpses in the alley, butchered, while the injured Rabbits were carried off.

The violence was spreading throughout the city -- in the slums that burned, at the docks, even within the Market Square. Everywhere a Blighter could be found, I had my Rabbits go and exterminate them. While I would prefer it if we managed to completely wipe them off of the face of the map, it was unlikely. A handful would survive no matter what -- a botched attack, managing to slip away, barely managing to cling to life when the Rabbits that attacked them thought they were dead, and so on.

However, no matter what, even if half of the attacks didn’t go to plan, the Blighters would be cut down to half. We would also lose a number of Rabbits, I accepted that, but the Blighters would lose a lot more. And, so far, I thought as we made our way down a narrow street and spotted our destination, the Rabbits had been by far getting the better of the Blighters. At best estimates, they’d have a hundred left after today. No matter what… they were done.

Our destination was a building that had originally been more than one, but was boarded over and combined into a makeshift warehouse. The new vault for the Blighters. I didn’t expect to see the number of guards that were outside of it, a good dozen as it seemed that they were dragging out the treasure to prevent it from burning. Soot and ash rained down upon us, the low light being combated by the ambient light of the fire. We weren’t that far away from it at this point. Just a few streets down.

I gestured for the Rabbits to run forward, shouldering the Keening Blade. I wasn’t much of a fighter still, truth be told. I was just about as likely to take my own head off as I was someone else's. In a pitched melee, I didn’t want to risk stabbing one of my Rabbits. The Rabbits roared as they charged forward, mobbing over the Blighters who were caught unaware by the attack. They battled over the chests and bags filled with coin, slaughtering each other. I saw a Rabbit go down before the one that struck him was stabbed to death by two other Rabbits.

Through the melee, I caught sight of a familiar face. He was wearing fine steel plate armor that was only half on and seemed to have been put on in a rush. He carried a large greatsword in his hands, swinging it at a Rabbit, catching him in the collarbone and cutting all the way down to his sternum. Jorgy Sunderson was a beast of a man, I thought to myself, magic dancing at my fingertips.

The former leader of the Raggers had dominated the Blighters, quickly being reaffirmed as its leader. Jorgy was tall for a human, at 6’3, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest, a bit of a gut but overall he looked strong and powerful. Certainly cut an impressive image.

And, despite the chaos between us, our eyes met. That was the same moment that I struck him with Phantasmal Force, casting the illusion that I had a bow in my hand that let loose an arrow that struck him in the eye. So convinced he was of the illusion, his head snapped to the side, a hand going up to his face, and in that same moment, the fallen Rabbits avenged their comrade by shiving him in the ribs and throat.

“Good. That’s done,” I muttered to myself. It was important business, but it was a little difficult to treat it as such when the real event had yet to begin. Of the twenty Rabbits that I had with me, four of them had been killed and another five were wounded pretty badly. I walked over to them and pressed a hand to them as if I were checking their wounds.

Heal was good for injuries. When it came to more complicated things, I was at a loss, but I managed to prevent their injuries from being life-threatening.

“Load up the loot and bring it to the Paragon's Virtue. The Carta will be waiting for all of you," I told them, earning some nods all around. "You're going to be tempted to skim off the top. Don't. I'm going to assume that you were all planning to take a whole sovereign for yourselves -- get the money where it's supposed to go and we'll call it a finders fee," I told them.

"We've made it, haven't we? Getting paid in gold instead of copper," a Rabbit remarked as there were smiles all around. I watched them for a moment, taking a very deep breath that I let out slowly, tasting smoke upon my tongue as I did so.

Slowly, I looked up at the darkening sky, the stars coming out in full force. Years ago, Kallian, Soris, Shianni, and I would try to count them all. There were millions of specks of light in the darkness of the night, framed around two moons that were revealed once the sun was low. A sigh escaped me as I tightened my grip upon the Keening Blade.

The day was not yet over. Nor shall it end any time soon.

…

The fire spread out of control in the slums, claiming a great deal more than the housing that the Blighters used. More buildings were demolished to create a firebreak while the fire itself burned on throughout the night. It was after the fire was finally put out, claiming nearly half of the slums, that any attention at all went to the slaughter of the Blighters. The reports went to me -- anywhere between five hundred and fifty to eight hundred Blighters had been murdered in the span of a single day.

Given that the Blighters only had six hundred members, I was acting under the assumption that some were inflating their numbers. Compared to the numbers I got from the most trusted of my rats and mice, it seemed that there were only about two dozen Blighters left. That we managed to find.

The Rabbits, in the vicious orgy of violence, had lost a total of fifty with another thirty so injured that they were hovering on death's door. Meaning that we won the day with three hundred and twenty Rabbits left. Of them, they were hardened killers. However, it was too soon to say if our numbers would be replenished so easily. For, in the open violence that we waged, it was seen. Elves murdering humans out in the streets. Breaking into their homes and killing them dead. We were even being blamed for the fire, rightly so, but no one had any proof of any kind.

Every elf in the city of Denerim was in the alienage, seeking shelter and protection, and yet despite the alienage being over full several times over, there wasn't a sound to be heard in the day it took for the city to settle. There was no one in the streets. There was no one climbing up or down the twenty foot high walls. The entire alienage was holding its breath, knowing that retribution was coming and that it was coming soon.

How the next few days went would decide if the Rabbits would be here to stay, or if the alienage would cast us out themselves for the trouble we brought upon them.

It was early morning when the front gate to the alienage began to open, the massive chain clanking and the metal growing as the wrought iron gate was lifted. Foot by foot, the guardsmen on the other end were revealed -- all wearing armor, carrying shields and swords. At the head of them were two men. Men I knew quite well. Maric and Torvald.

The expressions upon the guardsmen was one of vengeance. Of outrage. Even Torvald wore an expression of grim determination.

However, I saw flickers of surprise when the gate clanked up and locked in place, revealing the alienage to them. I imagine it must be quite a sight and one that was completely unexpected. Given how many there were -- a full company of a thousand guardsmen -- they likely expected resistance. Barricades. Elves waving their fists in defiance. Instead, they found completely empty streets with only a single soul to be found.

Myself. I sat in a chair carved from fine rosewood, the redwood polished to a shine, my legs crossed, my fingers steepled, and a smile upon my face as I lounged in the shade of the vhenadahl tree. Whose branches hung low, heavy with the weight of dozens of bodies that were stripped and mutilated to the point they were unrecognizable.

"Good morning," I spoke, my voice ringing out in the breath of silence that fell upon the guardsmen. "It's been some time since we last saw each other."

Torvald recognized me instantly. He wasn't a handsome man with a rather dour face with a weak jawline. I saw wariness in his eyes as he held up a fist, gesturing for the guardsmen to remain still. Maric looked like he was trying to place me.

"Do you really think offering that lot would make amends?" Maric questioned, striding forward, his face an ugly snarl. The scar that Kallian gave him added an intimidation factor, I noticed. He looked like he got the scar in a deadly duel for his life. Not from a swipe of a knife from a girl trying to protect herself. A girl that ultimately failed to. "I remember you. You're that knife ear that charged into that burning orphanage. You should have thrown yourself into the flames. It would have been a kindness."

"Damn it Maric, would you shut your bloody mouth?" Torvald snapped at the man, grabbing him by the shoulder and not daring to take a step forward. He looked around at the alienage, sensing a trap. He didn't find it based on how his face twisted into a scowl. "Something ain't right about this."

"You're correct," I spoke up, my voice carrying over the distance with the help of Minor Illusion. "Those bodies swinging from the Vhenadahl tree are not at all enough of an offering. Come now, Maric -- surely the scene has to be familiar?" I asked as Maric shrugged off Torvald's hand, striding forward and his company began to move with him. Torvald scowled as he ordered his men to fall in line and he approached as well.

They didn't charge. They walked forward, spreading out as they did so, but none dared to march past the point that their leaders did. The alienage became filled with the sounds of feet sloshing through the mud. Maric looked like he was trying to really think about what I said, frowning up at the stripped bodies.

"Oh," I heard him utter, blinking in surprise before a cruel and ugly smile crossed his face. "It's you. You're that bleedin' elf. Ha! Didn't even recognize you. Luck of the Void you have -- you lived through that slit throat, me nearly taking your head off, and that burning building. But, you're a damn fool if you think you'll live through this."

"I'm so glad you finally recognized me, Maric," I voiced, my smile growing larger. Torvald looked like he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was restless. As were his men -- they expected a fight and the sight of the Vendi tree was putting them off. "You were actually rather difficult for me to find. I only found out that you transferred to Lord Vaughan's service when he came here."

"You were searching for me, were ya'? Wanted to talk? Get some details about how your whole family squealed before they died?" Maric questioned, a snarl in his voice. He was trying to get a rise out of me. "Your big brutha was a big one, but I gutted him with ease when he tried to pull me out of that cute little red thing. Dragged your whole family out of their homes, kicking and screaming and had a go at all of 'em. Died screaming, they did."

My expression didn't twitch and that was what sent Torvald over the edge.

"Turn yourself in, Azoth. Admit you're the perpetrator behind the fire, and that may be enough to end this. There doesn't need to be a purge on the alienage," Torvald requested, his tone not quite pleading, but it wasn't far off. I could see that none of this was sitting right with him.

"Piss on that! I'm-" Maric started to shout, but I interjected smoothly.

"You have no idea how much work it was to set this reunion up," I spoke, catching Maric off guard. "Sadly, not everyone gets to be here. There were some deaths along the way. Some people transferred out of the guard or just retired. But, don't you worry, I made arrangements for them as well."

Maric narrowed his eyes and, far too late, he started to suspect something. "What are you goin' on about?"

I chuckled, a truly sinister sound to my own ears. "You should pay more attention Maric. Everyone here today are those that were there for the last purge on the alienage. It's a great big reunion! Had to pull some strings, call in some favors, do a little editing to the roster but I pulled it off. You're all here. The same people who were here when you did as you said, Maric. When you raped the woman I loved since before I knew what love was. When you gutted my beloved older brother. When you tortured my sisters, my parents, and grandfather. When you mutilated them and hung them from this same tree."

Maric’s lips thinned while I continued. "I kept a very close eye on you, Maric. So very close. You have no idea how tempting it was to enter your home in the dead of night and butcher you. I dreamed about it more times than I care to admit. However, I was patient. All for the sake of today."

"And why," Torvald questioned, sounding like every trace of moisture in his mouth was sucked up. "Would you be so patient?"

"Maric -- I never would have taken you as a family man. A lovely wife who bakes pies for your two darling boys Nathan and Darrel," I told him and I saw his expression go very, very, very blank. It was perfect. It was even better than my dreams. "Torvald, I actually expected you to be the family man. You seem like you'd be good at it. Imagine my surprise when your brother Trefor is the one with the family -- a sadly late wife, but he's done a fine job of raising Adalen, hasn't he?"

I pointed at a random guard, "And your name is Percy. You have a bastard son and an older sister that you take care of," I continued, pointing at another. "Your name is Evalyn -- you have two sons, each from a different father. Only your husband doesn't know that. Would be a rather awkward conversation if he found out. And your name is William, but you prefer to go by Willie. You have your parents to take care of-"

Maric reached his breaking point, "Enough of this! Make your point, damn you, so we can put this place to the sword!" He was trying to fire the guardsmen up, but he didn't quite manage it. My words carried over them. They heard me. They knew I knew their names and the names of their families.

"You all inflicted something terrible upon me," I told the guardsmen, a note of sadness and loss in my voice. "Something truly terrible. Something that changed me… in a way that can't ever be undone. My point, Maric? My point… is that I want you all to understand what you did to me. To my family. I want you to understand how I felt when I saw everyone I had ever loved hanging from this tree… and I couldn't even recognize them."

Torvald realized it first. Blood drained from his face, his lips parting while sweat began to build on his skin. His breathing became harsh. Harsh enough that it drew Maric's attention. Torvald stumbled a step forward, as if he were drunk. "Trefor?" He breathed, moving forward, his gaze affixed to a man that hung from the tree.

"You humans taught me a fine lesson and it is a lesson that I have learned well. A person's family is always their weak point," I spoke as a sob ripped itself from Torvald's throat. "And I want you to ask yourself this question before you do anything rash -- there are not a thousand families hanging from this tree. My gang, the Rabbits, numbers a thousand strong… yet here I sit, all alone."

I leaned forward in my chair, giving Maric a wide smile that was full of teeth as he looked upon his family hanging from a tree.

"If my Rabbits are not here then where could they possibly be?"

That was the cue. Outside of the alienage, there was a crash, the sound of something breaking before the gate to the alienage suddenly fell, nearly crushing a handful of men. Slowly, purposefully, I began to rise from my chair as more and more guardsmen recognized their families hanging from the Vendi tree. The family of those that came into the alienage once to raid and rape, and who came into the alienage again to put every elf to the sword.

"Lay down your weapons. Get on your hands and knees. If anyone resists, I want you to drag them to the ground and keep them there because, upon the moment any of my runners hear the sound of combat within the alienage… I will have your families killed. Am I understood?" I questioned, striding towards the guardsmen, hate burning in my eyes as they were trapped in here with me.

Maric howled something that barely sounded human, grief ripping from his throat as he unsheathed his sword and charged at me. I didn't move a muscle, simply clasping my hands behind my back as I watched him come. I didn't need to move. Torvald rushed forward, tackling Maric to the ground, his expression one of loss. "Don't! Don't, damn you!" Torvald shouted, "Everyone! Lay down your weapons. D-do as he says," he ordered, trying to save lives.

Maric snarled, thrashing under Torvald, his hands digging in the dirt to grab hold of my shoes when I stopped directly in front of him. Torvald, however, looked up at me with tears in his eyes, "I should have let him kill you. Maker forgive me, I should have let him kill you."

I tilted my head at that before nodding, "Aye, you should have. I think you would have been doing me a favor," I told him before I crouched down to his level, a smile on my face. "But, I will deny you the same favor you denied me. I won't let you die, Torvald. Not while I still have use for you. You see -- your niece is still alive," I told him, making Torvald sob in relief. "She is. I promise you. But, if you want to keep her that way, then I'm going to need something from you."

Torvald began blinking away tears, snot running down his chin. "W-w-what do you want? I'll do anything, please just… just don't hurt her," he begged me.

"I'm going to be taking some of your guardsmen with me. You won't be seeing them again. You're going to report that they died in action purging the alienage, as was ordered. You really gave it to us. For your efforts, you will be made Guard-Captain. However, you will answer to me in all things. When I tell you to do something, you do it -- jumping, patrolling, covering up a murder, or looking the other way. Because, if I don't… what will I do?"

Torvald locked his lips, "You'll murder my niece."

"Exactly right. You're a smart one, Torvald," I told him, reaching out and parting him on the cheek. "Smart enough to know that this threat extends to everyone in the guard. It's up to you to protect their families from me, Torvald. I mean that because there is nothing I will not do to them if you or they displease me."

Maric screamed bloody murder, tearing out his fingernails on my shoes. Torvald looked down at him, trying to get control over his breathing. I could see him processing everything, weighing his options when he looked over his shoulder to see all thousand members of his guard laying in the mud with their hands over their heads, some weeping and desperately hoping that their families weren't already hanging from the Vhenadahl tree.

Finally, he looked back at me, fear in his eyes as well as the same defeat that Tanya had in hers. The same defeat that elves had felt for centuries when they understood that there were no good options.

"I understand."

"I'm glad you do, Torvald. Because I never want to do this shite again."