From the Ashes: Sparks of the Future (ch. 21) (Patreon)

There were many types of fear and over the course of my life, I was familiar with most of them. Anxiety and nervousness had been constant companions for me until the past two years -- constantly second-guessing myself, worried about what-ifs and could bes. The idea of something could happen was every bit as terrifying as the event actually happing itself -- What if Kallian rejected me? What if we were caught doing whatever she had dragged me into? What if, what if, what if.

Then there was a deeper fear beyond anxiety -- terror and horror. For most of my seventeen years, I treated anxiety as terror because I had no real frame of reference. However, like hate, it was something you could only understand when you felt it. Terror was something that I only experienced twice in my life in hindsight. First, with Gaxkang the Unbound. Secondly, when I saw smoke raising from the alienage.

When I met the gaze of Morrigan’s mother, I thought I might have to add a third time to that list. Her eyes were a deep gold, the same shade that Morrigan shared, but she was old. Her hair was a harsh gray and white that looked like it had the same texture as straw, her clothing was threadbare and faded, as if it was as old as she was. Her face was lined with wrinkles, her eyes sunken in with dark bags under her eyes that swept over the four of us with mild interest.

She hadn’t done anything to make me afraid. But, she didn’t need to.

“Ah, the guests have arrived at long last. So do blow the winds of change,” the old woman remarked, her gaze drinking us in beyond a mere sizing us up. She wasn’t afraid of the four armed strangers that showed up at her door. Morrigan stood behind her mother, her staff in hand.

“... right,” Alistair began eloquently, sounding very put out. “Well, uh, your daughter said that you had the contents of the box? From the old Warden outpost? About yay big…” he said, gesturing with his hands and the old woman looked amused.

“I’m old, not addled, young man,” the old woman remarked, the faintest traces of a smile tugging at her lips. “I know what you seek. Alas, it was not to be found. What I protected for your order will have more value to you, I suspect,” the old woman said, stepping forward and handing a satchel over to Alistair. He quickly opened it and I caught a glimpse of some old scrolls. Not really sure what they were. Seemed important though and Morrigan said something about treaties.

“Oh. Thank you?” Alistair said, taking the satchel and securing in his pack.

“You are welcome, child,” the woman responded, her gaze sweeping over all of us. “All shall play their part in the coming days, though some shall be more relevant than others for only one can stand above all others. Shall it be you, Elissa Cousland? A dottering vain girl that lost so much and foreswore the rest in the name of vengeance?” Elissa stiffened, her face going red and a hand going up to her broadsword to strike the woman down.

She didn’t mind, nor care. “Or you, Theron Mahariel? Blinded by prejudice and half-remembered echoes of stories that were better left forgotten?” Theron glowered at the old woman, but he seemed genuinely too sick to argue with her. His skin was no longer just pale, but he almost had a grayish tint and I could swear I saw faint veins of black under his skin.

“Or,” she continued, her gaze landing on me, “shall it be you, Azoth Surana? Hatred has carved itself deep in your heart, child. So deep that it will never be uprooted. You champion change for the people, yet you know the truth as do I -- you would set the world aflame to feel its warmth,” she told me her expression almost becoming sad.

The words rang with truth that I couldn’t deny deep in my heart.

“I think it’ll be me,” I answered, my tone light and deflective. The old woman tilted her head at me, almost as if she were considering it.

I wasn’t expecting her to nod, “As do I. You have the will to force change upon the world, for better or worse,” she voiced and that seemed to catch everyone's attention, “Allow me a question, if you will, child. Are you a hypocrite?” She asked me and the question startled a laugh out of me because I knew the answer without having to think about it.

“The greatest of them all, I suspect,” I answered her with a small shrug and a slight smile to hide how unnerved I was. She reminded me of Gaxkang the Unbound, I decided, this meeting having far too many echoes of that quaint hovel. And that scared the absolute shit out of me.

The woman laughed, “Are you not justified in your actions?”

“Justified or not, right or wrong -- ain’t no point in bothering with shite like that,” I answered with a shake of my head. “Ain’t any justice in the world anyhow. If there were, sorry bastards like me would be rotting in the dirt. The closest thing we get to justice is vengeance, and that’s close enough for me. Even if it makes me a hypocrite to get it,” I voiced and I saw that the words struck a chord with Elissa. Her face tightened but she nodded, looking off in the distance at her own target of hatred.

The old woman seemed to consider my answer for a long moment before a sad smile tugged at her lips, “Unfortunately, I agree all too well. It shall be interesting to see what the future holds for you, young Surana. I suspect you shall live a most interesting life indeed. But, you have what you came here for. Return to your Warden Commander and tell him that this Blight is a far greater threat than he realizes.”

Morrigan nodded, “T’is time for you to go now. Well, off you go,” she said with a shooing motion, making her mother look at her.

“I didn’t raise you to be rude, girl… or perhaps I did? Haha! Guide them back, my daughter. I suspect that they won’t make it otherwise.”

Before anyone could ask why Theron dropped to a knee before falling on his face. Alistair dropped to a knee, shaking him to get him to wake up while making sure that he was okay. He seemed experienced with it.

I sighed. “I’m going to have to carry him, ain’t I? Bloody fuckin’ Dalish,” I muttered under my breath, knowing that in terms of fighting prowess, I was the least useful. And I was right. I did have to carry him. Theron rested on my back, muttering to himself, talking about Tamlen and something about a mirror. Didn’t make a lick of sense to me. As we made to leave the hovel, I cast one final look over my shoulder at the old woman to find her smiling as we left.

It reminded me of a cat when it decided to play with its meal.

For the first leg of the journey, we traveled in silence. Elissa seemed sullen, Alistair was keeping an eye out for darkspawn, while Morrigan kept her distance even as she guided us back to the camp. However, as the sky got darker and only a handful of rays managed to pierce the thick canopy of leaves above us, the group was forced to stick together a little closer.

“That old woman knew too much,” Elissia muttered to me, her voice low as she kept a keen eye on Morrigan, who seemed right at home leading us on our way despite the long and deep shadows. “How could she have learned of Howe’s treachery? In a hut?” She questioned, looking at me like she thought I would have an answer.

I did. An idea. That old woman was a demon like Gaxkang. “I think that old woman was more than she seemed. The woods are teeming with darkspawn and did she look scared to you?” I asked, forced to adjust my grip when Theron started squirming.

“No. She didn’t,” Elissa admitted. We walked in silence for a long while after that and towards the end of the silence, I could see her visibly working herself up to ask a question. “What she said… is it true?” From her tone, she suspected the truth already, but she was lacking context, I guess.

“Is what she said about you true?” I shot back, making Elissa scowl in response. It seemed directed at the old woman as much as it was me. She didn't answer. She was silent for long enough that I thought the conversation was done with and she got the hint.

Instead, she had been mulling something over. "If my brother is dead, then I cannot become a Grey Warden. My line must continue since… since Oren…" her voice thickened up, her eyes hardening and I saw raw, unbridled, unyielding hate burn in her eyes. "When it comes time for the joining, I shall escape. Aid me, and I will use my influence as Teyrness of Highever to aid you with your vergence."

Interesting. "Won't that be shirking your noble duty?" I asked her, earning a hot glare from the noble. The impression I got from the flare was that she didn't care. I suppose this was the danger of the Right of Conscription -- Duncan recruited possibly the last Cousland, a much rarer commodity now. If she went to Calian and asked him to lean on Duncan to rescind the recruitment, what would Duncan do? Dig his heels in and tell the nobility to get fucked? Seemed unlikely. "Not that I care. Having a Teryness in me back pocket can only lead to good things, I suppose."

"Will you try to escape with me?" She asked me in a low voice, an offer there, but I shook my head.

"Nah. Being a Grey Warden is going to open doors for me and the Rabbits," I dismissed off-hand and I was surprised when I saw a glimmer of recognition in her eyes.

"The Rabbits? The gang that set the Capitol on fire? I heard they were all put to the sword. Did Duncan spring you from a dungeon?" Elissa questioned, her tone far more guarded than it had been a second ago.

I couldn't help it. I laughed. "I suppose you could say that, yes. In any case, you wanna pull a runner, feel free. I’ll run interference. Just go straight to the King and fluff around a bit, Duncan will wisen up about making you a Warden. Oi, Theron, you catch all that?” Elissa seemed a bit surprised when Theron grunted unhappily. She must have thought he was out like a light.

“Why would I… herughk…” He groaned and I just about dropped him when it sounded like he was about to spew all down my back.

Alistair looked back, his eyes tight. “We need to get back to Ostagar. Fast,” he voiced, picking up the pace.

“For once in your Dalish life, be useful and run a distraction,” I whispered to him as we followed along behind Alistair. When Theron did spew bile from his mouth, a disgusting blackish-grey mixture, I was absolutely certain that he did it on purpose when it all splattered over my shoulder and chest. What a bastard.

With Morrigan leading the way, I saw despite the hours we spent wandering around the wilds, we actually hadn’t ventured too far into them because it had only been a short few hours before we caught sight of the gates of Ostagar. Morrigan crinkled her nose at us as the gate started to open. “We have arrived in good time. T’was very unpleasant meeting all of you. I hope we shan’t meet again,” Morrigan decided, her gaze narrowing at Alistair, who paid her no mind, but her gaze lingered on me and Theron.

I inclined my head to her as she stepped behind a tree, melding into the shadows in a way that almost seemed familiar. She seemed to hesitate for the briefest of seconds before she returned the nod and with it, she vanished.

“Right. We need to get Theron through the Joining. Right now,” Alistair decided, spotting Duncan as we entered the camp, standing by a bonfire. A crowd of humans quickly took notice of us, idly curious about who had come back from the wilds in the dead of night. And, as if to agree with him, Theron did an excellent job of providing the distraction once Duncan neared. I felt him stiffen on my back before he began to shake, thrashing uncontrollably, forcing me to set him down.

When I did, I saw that the seizure was either very convincing, or he was actually seizing. I responded instantly, turning him on his side as I looked up at Duncan. “Alistair, Azoth -- carry him. He does not have long,” Duncan commanded, his eyes scanning the three of us. “Did Elissa not make it?” He asked as I grabbed Theron’s feet while Alistair grabbed his shoulders, keeping him on his side so he didn’t drown in his own vomit.

Alistair looked surprised by the question, “What? No, she’s…” Alistair said, looking around, only to find that Elissia vanished into the crowd of onlookers. “She was just here,” he protested and Duncan looked to me, his gaze sharp as we carried Theron to what looked like it had once been a chapel of some kind. The rest of the Grey Wardens were pushing away the onlookers to give us a bit of privacy.

I gave him an unrepentant smile, “I’m but a lowly elf. Who am I to deny the wishes of the nobility?” I asked him and Alistair seemed so shocked that he just about dropped Theron, who thankfully, wasn’t thrashing anymore. Made it easier to carry him.

“Very well,” Duncan stated, not pleased at all, but he accepted the situation for what it was. “In the eventuality that some of you did not return, I selected additional recruits.” He informed us as we reached the chappel. Setting Theron down near the altar that had a silverite chalice seated upon it, Duncan looked to me and Alistair for a moment. “I will retrieve the candidate. Alistair, if Azoth attempts to flee… Kill him.”

“Oh. Scary,” I remarked, my tone teasing as Duncan marched off. Alistair looked at me, his helmet off to reveal his pale and sweaty face. His expression was one of betrayal and disappointment. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’m not running and Theron isn't exactly in the condition to.”

As I spoke, I took a seat, leaning my back against the altar as we waited for Duncan. Theron slumbered noisily, muttering and whimpering. It filled the heavy silence between me and Alistair.

We didn’t have to wait long before Duncan came back with a large human. Red hair that was cut close and a goatee. He walked like a knight, I noticed, wearing the heavy armor rather well with a greatsword strapped to his back. The human seemed oddly excited, clearly looking forward to becoming a Grey Warden. “Alistair, Azoth -- this is Jory. A knight of Redcliff. He proved his ability by winning the tourney in Redcliff in addition to fine service holding the line in the past two battles.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Jory stated, sounding like a big dumb kid was my impression of him. His eyes flickered between me and Theron for a moment, seemingly confused, but he nodded at Alistair. “It is an honor to be invited into your order. I swear upon my pride as a knight, I shall not shame the Grey Wardens.”

“The Grey Wardens,” Duncan began, approaching the altar and making me get up and move aside, “were founded during the first Blight when all of mankind was facing annihilation. For two hundred years, they ravaged the world with their taint… and it was not until the first Grey Wardens drank their blood to master the taint that the darkspawn carry in their veins.”

I blinked and all of a sudden, Jory seemed a lot less honored to join. “What? You… we’re drinking the blood of those creatures?”

“As did the first Grey Wardens did, as we did before you. We take the taint into ourselves, drawing strength from it and immunity,” Duncan spoke, holding out a hand for the vials of darkspawn blood. I hesitated a moment in handing them over, but his gaze was sharp. There was no doubt in my mind that he would kill me the moment I tried to back out of this.

Not that I would. Becoming a Grey Warden was a bit more… involved than merely swearing some oaths, I discovered, but my goal remained unchanged. I presented the vials, giving them to Duncan, and he added them to one he already carried. Approaching the chalice, he poured them into the chalice. I heard the sound of sizzling when he did. “This is the source of our victory,” he said, turning around and holding the chalice.

I took in a deep breath, “Alright. Probably not the worst thing I’ve put in my body,” I decided and it was my boldness that seemed to reassure Jory, who looked like he was about to pull an Elissa and do a runner. He stepped forward, offering a curt nod.

“If this is the price we pay… Then I shall pay it. For my wife and daughter,” Jory spoke, accepting the chalice from Duncan, who gave it to him first. Jory drank from the chalice, grimacing as Duncan took it back from him. For the briefest of moments, Jory seemed completely fine, if a bit disgusted.

However, a second later, he began to heave. His hands went to his throat, a gagging sound escaping him before his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He dropped to a knee, black bile dripping from his lips, the red veins in his eyes going back before tainted blood began to drip from the corners of them. With a strangled gasp, Jory fell face forward, nearly crushing Theron, and he laid still. Dead.

Right.

“I am sorry, Jory,” Duncan spoke, his tone solemn as he knelt down to cradle Theron’s head. Bringing the chalice to his lips, he dribbled the unholy concoction into his mouth. Theron swallowed instinctively and when Duncan took a step back, Theron began to seize again. I thought that he was going to die, as Jory did, but instead, after a long tense few seconds, Theron’s breathing actually evened out.

I heard Alistair let out a breath of relief, so I took that as a sign that Theron would be fine. Duncan then turned to me, presenting me with the chalice. I took a peek at the liquid I saw swirling around in the cup -- black as midnight with no moons. My lips thinned at it. I could die from drinking this. Jory was a strong-looking man and he died. Theron was on death's door already, and he was apparently fine. It seemed to be a random lottery on who lived and died from the Joining.

However… “Down the hatch,” I decided, bringing the Joining potion to my lips and draining what was left in the cup. My mouth was filled with needles that burned and the sensation traveled down my throat and settled heavily in my stomach. Distantly, I was aware of Duncan taking the chalice from me. A headache began to build in intensity behind my eyes, feeling like I was getting a nail hammered into my brain.

Then I saw it. A dragon. A twisted mockery of one -- deep black and violet scales, a powerful yet sleek body with mighty wings fanned out. The sky was green and the Void swirled in the distance of the Fade. The dragon -- the Archdemon threw back its head and roared, the sound shaking my very being yet my ears were filled with the sound of music. One unlike any song I had ever heard before.

I didn’t feel it when I hit the ground unconscious.

…

I woke up and I think I regretted it. My eyes felt like they were covered in sand and the little light that I could see felt a lot like a dagger stabbing me. A low groan escaped me as I threw my arm over my eyes, my head pounding terribly and I thought I could hear music playing in my ears, but when I tried to listen to it, the sound vanished. It took me a long few minutes to gather up the will to force my eyes open to see that I was inside a tent. The Grey Warden’s tent.

Next to me was Theron, who slumbered deeply. I didn’t see anyone else, but I did hear what had woken me up. There was a scramble outside of the tent, the general symphony of noise that came when thousands of people that were moving with a reckless urgency.

A second later, the tent flap opened and I think I would have preferred a stab to the head rather than dealing with the sharp pain in my eyes with the influx of light. “You’re awake! Good!” Alistair exclaimed as I swallowed another grown, not willing to look weak in front of the human. “You have good timing -- the darkspawn seem like they’re forming up for another battle.”

Yeah. I regret waking up, “Alright. How long do we have?” I asked, forcing my body to move as I cast Rejuvenation on myself to give myself the kick that I needed. It helped a little with the headache. Alistair took in a deep breath before answering. It looked like he had been in a rush.

“The battle should happen tonight. There’s a strategy meeting and, uh, we’re invited to it,” Alistair informed me while I dragged a hand down my face. The splitting headache was fading as was my sensitivity to light. With them gone, I found that I felt… good. Strong. Strong in a way that I wasn’t used to. I had put on muscle in the past couple of years where I had once been just skin and bone, but it felt like I could curl Alistair in full armor and not get crushed.

“Things were… hectic last night -- oh, you’ve been out for a night and it's midday now, by the way -- but since no one else is here for it, I want to welcome you into the Grey Wardens. You went through the Joining and you’re one of us now,” Alistair told me, giving me a serious look and a small nod. “I know you joined for your own reasons, but we’re part of a brotherhood. Bound together by the taint. I hope that means something to you because it does to the rest of us.”

“I don’t have a family,” I spoke, cracking my neck as I rose to my full height. “And being a Grey Warden is a means to an end,” I told him outright, making his expression sour. “All the same, thank you for the welcome,” I added, making him sigh and nod in response.

“Right. Well, I’m sure you’ll have questions, but I think they’ll be better served until after the battle. And for Theron to wake up so we don’t have to go through it first,” Alistair said, casting a worried look down at Theron. There was a measure of fear in his eyes. “If he wakes up.”

“If?” I echoed, my eyebrows climbing high.

Alistair looked to me and offered a small nod. “You saw it, didn’t you? The darkspawn? That’s normal for Grey Wardens. With the taint in us, we can access their… goup mind, or whatever you call it. The first time is the hardest and most intense, but you’ll get used to it eventually. But, in times of a Blight, there have been times when Grey Wardens just… don’t ever wake up after their Joining and Theron was pretty far gone when he did.”

Meaning that he could be in a coma. “Is there a way to tell?”

“If he’s not up by tomorrow then he’s not going to wake up at all,” Alistair informed.

I really should have just stayed asleep. “I guess its up to him then. He’s a stubborn bastard, so he should be fine,” I decided, going for my weapons and putting them in their sheaths. The action made me realize that I still had Theron’s puke on me, making my nose crinkle.

“I never got a chance to ask, but you and Theron know each other? He’s a dalish elf, though, and Duncan said you were from Denerim? How’d that happen?” He asked, and I made a show of grabbing a rag to scrub off my armor and cast Prestidiatation upon myself, cleaning up the bile and the black droplets of blood.

“I ran away to the Dalish a couple of years ago and I found them. I was pretty disappointed with what I found, so I went back to Denerim,” I answered, tossing the rag to the side and cast a look down at Theron. “They’re stuck in their ways, oblivious, and arrogant without deserving it. Not quite the heroes I imagined them to be, but I suppose that’s my fault for having expectations.”

Alistair didn’t seem to know what to say to that, his brow furrowed and his lips parted to say something, but I interrupted him. “Let's go speak to the king and get this over with,” I decided, brushing past Alistair. “I can’t wait to finally meet them. You’ve been doing a good job of keeping me away,” I remarked and I heard the human let out a low groan, knowing that this was about to be painful.

…

The table had filled out, I noticed. Like before, King Calian and Loghain stood at the head of the table, and thankfully, the map they had was filled out with more detail. Along the table were Leonas Bryland, Gallagher Wulff, a handful of Banns that were committing to the army, some mercenary captains, and most interesting of all was Senior Enchanter Uldred, a clean-shaven man with a shaved head wearing robes and carrying a staff.

Most interesting of them all was Elissa Cousland, who stood at Calian’s side. Her gaze met mine and she offered the subtlest of nods and before anyone could say anything about it if they noticed, King Calian spoke up.

“Hello there! You must be the new Grey Warden,” Calian spoke, his tone decidedly friendly. It was an odd sensation, I thought, to stand before a king. I doubt that he would have given me a second look before, but now I wore a griffon motif on my chest, he treated me like a hero in the making. I had to wonder if that luster would last if he knew what joining the Warden’s entailed. “I recognize you from the march! Your brothers in the order have been making sure you’re a secret to me,” he said with a laugh.

I saw Duncan look at me out of the corner of his eye and his gaze could be best summarized as ‘don’t fucking do it.’ So, naturally, I did.

“Azoth Surana, at your service, your majesty,” I said, a thin smile on my face. I saw a flicker of confusion pass over Calian’s face, like he couldn’t quite place the name.

Loghain, however, could. He narrowed his eyes at me, “Surana. I know that name,” he spoke, his tone heavy and deliberate as he sized me up with interest. “That was one of the last names given to the Night Elves. Aven Surana, if memory serves.”

I blinked in surprise, really not expecting the Hero of River Dane to remember my grandfather. Despite myself, I found myself respecting him a bit more for it. “My grandfather,” I confirmed, giving Loghain a small nod. That seemed to please him.

“Your grandfather saved my life once. Took a bad wound for it on his side,” Loghain informed and Grandfather had never mentioned that when he talked about the war. He just said he had been run down by a Chevalier. “How is he?”

“Dead. Along with the rest of my family,” I answered, taking some satisfaction in the stunned look that passed over Calian’s face while Loghain’s hardened. “An elven didn’t want to be held down so she defended herself with a blade against a human and one thing led to another and the alienage was put to the sword. My Grandfather was butchered, mutilated, and hung from the Vendi tree along with my parents, brother, and two younger sisters.”

“Makers breath!” Calian exclaimed, looking honestly shocked by the news. I had to search his face but I quickly saw that it was genuine shock. Half of the table looked like they didn’t care, half of the other half seemed disquieted by the news, and the rest seemed distinctively uncomfortable with having the death of my family thrown in their faces.

But, the king didn’t know. I really didn’t know how I felt about that.

It was a lot easier to consider him a malicious being that knew about every abuse my people went through rather than accept that he was an idiot that honestly didn’t know.

Loghain’s expression was hard, but he said nothing. Elissa looked away from me, my story echoing her own, I imagine. It was Calian that spoke up after a brief, if tense, moment. “That is unacceptable,” he decided, his tone unyielding and some of the Banns looked like they disagreed. “When I return to Denerim, I’ll deliver justice for the murder of your family, this I swear to you.”

Shit. He actually meant that. He wasn’t malicious. He really was just an ignorant idiot that didn’t know any better. I wasn’t sure if that was worse or not.

“Thank you, your majesty, but there’s no need,” I said, giving the nobles a slow smile. “The men responsible for the deaths of my family have already been… dealt with,” I reassured them and I saw the nobles trade looks as a very different kind of tension-filled the command room. It was to be expected, really. After all, I did just confess to murder straight to the king's face.

King Calian looked gobsmacked. I honestly don’t think he could look more shocked if I crossed the table and gave him a smack across the face.

I think I’m going to like being a Grey Warden.

“If it is the desire of you gentlemen, I can have Azoth removed from the council,” Duncan spoke, doing damage control. Calian just stared at me, thoroughly startled, as if he couldn’t connect his pure ideal image of the Grey Wardens with the fact that I was a ruthless murderer without any scruples.

“No,” Loghain decided, nodding at me. “That won’t be necessary.” He decided and, if I didn’t know any better, I think he approved. Interesting. I knew Loghain treated elves as equals -- not with kindness or remorse, but he treated us the same as he would a human peasant. If we had talents, he would make use of them, regardless of the same of our ears. It wasn’t what I wanted. Not really.

I didn’t want equality. I wanted elven superiority.

Still, it was nice to see in its own way.

Calian and the rest of the nobles with the exclusion of Elissa seemed to disagree but Loghain was already moving on. “Time is short. An attack is incoming and, with the few scouts that have managed to return, it is clear that this battle will be the greatest one yet. We number ten thousand, yet our estimates put the darkspawn at fifteen thousand at most.” His tone was grim, moving the topic along and everyone listened as he spoke.

“We know how they fight now,” Calian offered as a silver lining.

“Aye, we do,” Loghain offered. “A mindless charge at the largest mass of people they can find. Simple creatures, if deadly. We use that to our advantage -- a hammer and anvil. We leave three thousand men in a fortified area, but with one with a clear entrance. The darkspawn will charge and when they commit to it, seven thousand warriors will come streaming down this hill.”

“A glorious charge,” Calian voiced, nodding to himself. “I will stand with the anvil. Men fight harder and take heart when their king is with them, Loghain. I won’t ask my men to take a risk that I’m not willing to take for myself,” Calian spoke, undercutting any complaint that Loghain had before he made it.

Loghain grunted, a deep frown on his face. “As you wish, your majesty.”

Calian seemed pleased with the plan, “It should be a decisive battle. With the reinforcements coming, we should outnumber the darkspawn and it would be a good chance to give chase to them. Duncan has been telling me that they live in the deep roads. Perhaps it would be fitting to give the darkspawn a taste of having their home invaded, eh?” Calian questioned, offering a smile at the noblemen to find that they were pleased with the idea.

Loghain, less so. “Before we go invading the darkspawn homes, we should focus on defending our own and winning this battle. Timing is of the utmost importance. The lighting of the tower of Ishal shall be the signal,” Loghain decided and looked to Uldred even before he spoke.

“If timing is of the utmost importance, then perhaps it would be best to have a more immediate source of the signal? One of my mages could give it whenever-’

“Be silent mage. We will not entrust the lives of our brave soldiers to your foul magic,” a woman spoke up, rounding on the mage. She wore the garb of a revered mother of the Chantry -- a bright red headdress and white robes. I always thought the Chantry attire looked ridiculous, but when she was surrounded by heavily armed humans, she looked more redicloious.

Loghain scowled and the Senior Enchanter wilted, but they let the topic drop. It was a good demonstration of why my mother made sure that I didn’t go to the Circle.

“May I ask on whose authority you’re speaking with?” I questioned, looking at the Revered Mother with a too-sweet smile.

She narrowed her eyes at me, “I am here on behalf of the Chantry to bless this endeavor, elf.” She spat the word out like she would ‘knife ear.’

“Well, unless the Maker is whispering strategies in your ear, I would kindly suggest that you shut the fuck up about things you know nothing about,” I told her and she looked beyond indignant. She stared at me in naked shock, her jaw-dropping at my audacity. I think I heard Alistair stifling a laugh. “Timing is of the essence. Redundancy is a good policy in everything, but especially so when thousands of lives and a nation are on the line.”

“Agreed,” Loghain spoke, overruling the Revered Mother. “The beacon shall be lit and the mages with give a signal.”

There was some shuffling of feet and even though it seemed that the majority of the council agreed with me, they were too much of cowards to openly voice that agreement.

“We have a plan. Azoth, Alistair -- you two shall light the beacon,” Calian decided, making Alistair stiffen. I guess he wanted to participate in the battle. “Are your people ready, Duncan?”

“We are, your majesty. However, should the Archdemon appear-” Duncan started but, without meaning to, Calian overspoke him.

“That is what the Grey Wardens are for, are they not? Have no concern, Duncan. Should the Archdemon finally show itself, you’ll have the full might of Ferelden at your side along with its king.” Calian decided, earning approving nods from the rest of the nobles for his bravery. Duncan and Loghain seemed to share a pained look, but Duncan nodded all the same.

“That… is a reassurance, your majesty,” Duncan stated, his tone far more diplomatic than mine as he offered a small bow.

“Excellent. Now all that is left is to win the day!”