Elusus Propositum

Celestine opened her eyes. She closed them just as quickly, scrunching up her face as she tried to block out the offensive light.

"So, finally you wake," she heard a familiar voice say to her left.

Where was she? she wondered. This could not possibly be the Circle; it was far too warm and there was a strong fragrance of herbs in the air, accompanied by a rich earthy scent. Finally, she forced her eyes open, blinking as they adjusted to the light that was flooding in through a nearby window.

The walls, floor and roof were all made of wood – definitely not the Tower. Then it hit her like a bucket of cold water: Ostagar. Why was she not dead? The last thing she recalled was turning to face the entrance to the tower's top level as darkspawn broke down the door they had closed behind them.

"Your fellows will be pleased to see you on your feet, especially that foolish one. He might finally stop whining."

Celestine looked to who had spoken; it was the woman they had met the day before: Morrigan. She still wore the same clothes – or lack thereof -and was standing with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the Circle mage try and make sense of things.

"I suppose by my fellows you mean Alistair, Erik and Elisa?" Celestine asked.

"Yes."

"What happened?" Celestine was trying to wrap her mind around how she and the other Wardens had ended up so deep in the Korcari Wilds when the night before they had been in the middle of a battle for their life against a massive darkspawn horde.

"Your general abandoned the field. The King, his army and all other Wardens but you lot are dead." The way Morrigan said it one would have thought her to be reading it from a dusty old tome.

Celestine sat up in the bed she was lying in, frowning as she replayed what the witch had said in her mind. King, army, Wardens, dead. She didn't do anything for a moment, then she pushed the blanket that was covering her aside and climbed out of the bed. She knew that what Morrigan had said should make her sad, but the meaning of the words seemed strangely detached from her. Cold and rational, her mind noted that she would most likely feel the effects of the statement later, when she'd had time to process it.

Morrigan directed her to a pile of neatly folded clothes – her robes. She nodded her gratitude and pulled the soft fabric over her head, noting with mild annoyance how it caught on the bandages that were wrapped around her torso. Hold on, bandages?

"I don't seem to be wounded, yet the bandages indicate that I had been." The statement implied the question, which Morrigan picked up on.

"My mother's work – she rescued you from the tower and healed you. A day and a half have passed since the battle."

Celestine nodded. "Thank you."

A look of surprise flashed across the witch's face before she quickly hid it. "I did nothing, 'tis my mother you should thank."

"Thank you nonetheless," the mage said, smiling. "But now that I am dressed I should probably see the others."

Morrigan nodded and turned around, opening the door of the hut and leading Celestine outside.

"Tina! You're okay!" Elisa squealed as she cannoned into her fellow Grey Warden.

"Oof…hi Elisa," the mage managed.

"See, she is well, just as I promised," Flemeth said, addressing Alistair.

"Maker…." was all he managed before he too rushed to hug the mage, capturing both her and Elisa in the embrace, that latter of which who quickly detached herself and slipped out. It took a moment for Celestine to realise that the powerful man's shoulders were shaking, tears running from his eyes. "I thought I'd lost you too…" he managed. "Duncan and all the others…."

Celestine held him, not quite knowing what to do. She herself had never lost anyone close to her. Those closest were all gathered here. But then the younger witch's words rang through her mind again: his army. No…Hawke?!

Then the reality crashed down, as the voice in her mind had predicted. Everything seemed deadened as a great hollowness collapsed her chest. Tears silently ran down her pale cheeks as she held the one who had invited and welcomed her into what had been his closest family and just like her – lost it.

Morrigan stood a small distance from the Wardens, watching the mourning with a look of mild disgust on her face. Erik stepped forward, placing a firm hand on the two's shoulders. He knew what they felt like; he had undergone a similar experience not more than a week ago. But drawing from that, he knew what it was that needed to be done.

"Now is not the time to mourn. We are the last Wardens and there is a Blight."

Alistair took a deep breath and turned to look the Cousland in the eye, a flicker of anger in his look. "Duncan was like a father to me," he stated, jaw clenched and voice steely, "What do you expect us, what...five, to do against an army?"

Erik returned the gaze, eyes cool and steady. "We do our duty. We honour their sacrifice. We are Grey Wardens – whatever it takes to defeat the Blight."

"The King is dead," Alistair spat, "Loghain betrayed us. Was that what you lot schemed at that great big meeting of yours?"

"Alistair…" Celestine started, placing a hand on his arm.

He pulled away. "No! Don't you get it? We're alone!"

Flemeth shook her head. "Listen to your friend; a storm approaches. I stand by the words I spoke at our last encounter."

Celestine's eyes lit up upon hearing the witch. "That's it!" she voiced, hopeful.

Alistair looked at her in confusion, not understanding how she could have that tone at a moment like this.

"The last time! We got the treatises. If we use them, we can still raise an army to fight the Blight."

"Ooo," Elisa said, a smile appearing on her lips with a wicked gleam in her eye, "Good thinking."

"Indeed," Flemeth agreed, "Elves, mages, dwarves…sounds like an army to me."

Alistair had gotten a hard look in his eye. "Arl Eamon of Redcliffe won't stand for what Loghain did either."

"There you go then," the old woman said matter-of-factly, "Seems you have work to do."

The Warden regained his composure within seconds. "Well then, no point in moping around."

"One more thing," Flemeth interrupted. "Take Morrigan with you."

"What?!" The young woman's tone was shocked.

"Don't argue with me on this matter. These Wardens require all the assistance they can get. You know how important this is." The older witch looked at the younger meaningfully.

Morrigan sighed heavily, "Fine, Mother. If that is what you want."

"It is."

Celestine watched the exchange. "If you don't wish to come, I don't think you should. It will be dangerous."

Morrigan only scoffed at this. "With this Blight, nowhere will remain safe and it is not as if I do not know how to fend for myself. I have lived in these wilds all my life."

Celestine looked to the other Wardens to see if they had anything to say. Erik made no move, Alistair was giving Morrigan his suspicious look, and Elisa merely shrugged.

"Besides, you will need someone who knows these lands to get you past the darkspawn, to Lothering – the nearest village worthy of the term."

The group dispersed to prepare for the journey when an enthusiastic bark, shortly followed by another was heard from the underbrush surrounding the house. Erik and Elisa looked up sharply to where the sounds had come from, faces disbelieving.

~o~

Sorana parted the reeds, trying to see through. They were knee-deep in muck, the rancid stench of the stagnant water, rotting plant stuff and other unmentionable things creeping up their nostrils.

"Do you see anything?" her brother hissed from her right.

Her only response was to carefully place a finger over her lips, signalling silence. Gingerly, she picked a leg out of the swamp, ever so slowly, to prevent the characteristic sucking noise such actions often had. Foot freed, she stepped over the reeds she had parted, sinking it back into the bog on the other side as she carefully repeated the action with the other leg. Slowly, she let the reeds slide back to their natural position and moved forward, carefully, to avoid making any noise.

She drew near the edge of the water, where the ground was relatively solid once more. She heard a deep throated chitter, then a hiss. The 'spawn were still out there, and if the Wardens had been right then they would only grow in number as the days progressed. She drew her spear from the harness that she used to keep it slung on her back when not in use, holding the still blood-stained blade low so as not to give away her position. She motioned over her shoulder that Carver follow, as she silently approached a darkspawn that was standing, watching the path they would no doubt have to use to get out of this Maker-forsaken place.

She had almost reached it when it jerked, attention drawn by something. The creature hissed, turning around. The beast could smell her! Pale white irises locked onto her, the tiny pupils at their centre dilating a fraction. It screeched as it hefted the jagged-edged longsword at its side.

"Carver, now!" the Hawke called, jumping forward in an attempt to salvage the situation. The spear passed through the creature's throat, its growl turning into a gurgle as black blood flooded its lungs. But the damage had been done. The creature's cry had alerted the others near them and now Rana and Carver could hear the sounds of beasts from all around them.

"We need to get out of here, to Lothering!" the younger Hawke stated, voice taut.

"Yes, we need to get Mother and Beth, flee to the north. Damn that traitor!" the elder spat. "Fair warning, I'll no longer hold back while we're so surrounded."

Carver merely nodded. He might resent his elder sibling for many things, but he respected her and trusted her above any other.

Two darkspawn burst through the foliage. The first's head was torn off by a missile of compressed rocks, the other exploded as lightning struck it out of the clear sky. Two more 'spawn appeared on the other side of the siblings, both of them getting encased in ice as soon as they started charging. One fell, shattering under its own weight - the other met the same fate at the impact of a massive blade.

"Carver, get out of here. I'll be right by you!" Sorana commanded.

The dark-haired man opened his mouth to protest, but seeing the look in her eyes snapped it shut again. Hefting his blade, he ran down the road. Darkspawn swarmed around where Sorana had been, the woman disappearing under the mass of writhing bodies.

Carver paused to take one look back, just in time to see a crack open up in the heavens. Eerie green light shone through the fissure. But then the light was blocked out by a flare. Fire poured from the crack hurtling to the earth, forming into orbs as it drew closer to the ground. When the flames impacted, they exploded, bathing the area in a sea of fire. The guttural calls of the darkspawn turned to screeches and moans as they were incinerated.

A hand clasped Carver's shoulder, causing him to spin around in surprise, only to look into the smirking face of his sister.

"Come now, you don't want to get turned into a pillar of salt, do you?" she teased as she started running down the road they had just opened for themselves.

"Maker, I hate it when you do that," he muttered, hurrying to follow after her regardless.