Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight	By : Serena_Hawke-Theirin Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 13108 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 50
- 51
- 52
By the time they reached the demon of Sloth, Solona was more than ready to kill something, anything. That entire experience in the Fade had been nothing but one long nightmare for her. If murdering Anders’ likeness wasn’t difficult enough, she had to deal with Alistair’s dream of that barmaid in Lothering and him making doe eyes at her sister. Obviously, his rejection of her earlier advances had nothing to do with his sexual orientation after all. He just didn’t want her.
Miri and that serving girl could have him. She didn’t need the kind of headache romance would bring, anyway. They would remain friends until the end of the Blight, then go their separate ways. He would become king, and she would stay with the Grey Wardens, just the way the spirits of fate apparently wished it to be.
As she traversed the bunks of the templars’ quarters, that notion induced a queasy feeling in the pit of Solona’s stomach. Once again, she was forced to ask, why did everyone she ever cared about eventually leave? Was it because she had a tendency to cling to the wrong people? Or was it simply because there was something about her that made her unlovable? Unable to be cared for?
Garrett cautiously opened the door at the other end of the room that led into the center rotunda and the stairway to the Harrowing Chamber. Instead of proceeding through the exit, he stopped and simply stood there with a confused expression.
“Now that’s something you don’t see every day,” he mused.
Solona pushed past the others to determine for herself what kind of trouble was about to befall them. When the pirate pulled the door open further for her, she gasped. Inside the room, right next to the stairs, was a large cage constructed of magical energy, its glow tinged with light red. It extended from floor to ceiling and circumferenced a great portion of the room. Within its confines, knelt a single man wearing templar armor, his forehead pressed tightly against his clasped hands in prayer. Solona recognized him right away by the wave of his blonde hair.
“Cullen,” she breathed.
“You know that bloke, love?” Garrett questioned.
“I do,” she said as she slipped past the pirate and into the room.
She walked to the barrier and halted in front of the templar, just outside the confines of the trap. When he lifted his face, his whiskey brown eyes held such fear and hatred it nearly took Solona’s breath. The man who had confessed his love for her just a few short months before was completely gone. The one left in his absence grimaced at her with pure loathing.
"Be gone, demon," he bellowed as he scrambled to his feet. "Your foul tricks won’t work. You have nothing I want to offer." He then squeezed his lids shut and began to mutter the Transfigurations. “O Maker, hear my cry. Guide me through the blackest nights. Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked. Make me to rest in the warmest places.”
Garrett appeared at her side and arched his left brow as he watched the man within the magical barrier. “What in the bloody void is he talking about?”
Solona exhaled an agitated sigh. “He’s speaking part of the Chant.” She snapped her fingers in an effort to garner the templar’s attention. “Cullen. For the Maker’s fucking sake, wake the void up.”
His lids flew open and a mixture of terror and turmoil mired his features. "Still here? How is that possible? I shut my eyes. You’re supposed to be gone when I open them.” His expression became pleading as he neared the border of the cage. “What do you want from me? How much more am I expected to take before you find enough mercy to kill me?"
The templar dropped to his knees once more. "Please…if there is anything human in you at all, you will end this torture now." He buried his face in his hands and began rocking back and forth. "She’s dead. Solona is dead and taunting me mercilessly with the one thing I’ve always wanted but could never really have is beyond the worst cruelty. She was the only woman I have ever loved. A mage of all things. I…I know it was wrong. I know it went against everything I stand for. I will confess it a million times if that’s what you want to hear, if that’s what will please you most, but for the love of all that's holy, please just let me die when it’s done."
Garrett pulled the cutlass at his left hip and spun it. “This one’s a lost cause, love. Let me put him out of his bloody misery.”
“He’s not a wounded dog, Garrett,” Solona argued. The use of the pirate’s given name earned her a slight scowl from the man, which she ignored. “We’re not just going to kill him.”
“Friend of yours, I take it?” the captain questioned.
“In a manner of speaking,” the mage sighed. “I’m fairly certain I am the mage he’s referring to.”
Cullen
Of all the templars in Kinloch, it had to be him, and to find out he was in love with Solona made the situation even worse. After everything that bastard put him through in the monastery, Alistair was almost tempted to allow the captain to run him through. Almost.
Cullen should have been able to free himself of the magical trap. It was a powerful spell, but it wasn’t infallible. By his blubbering and the crazed look in the young templar’s eyes, it was obvious the man was in the throes of withdrawal. Whoever was responsible for ensnaring Cullen must have used other means of torture on him until his system was completely devoid of lyrium. After that, the templar would be rendered so weak, even the smallest of spells would hold him. The barrier devised from blood magic was completely unnecessary and seemed more a way for the mage who cast it to flaunt his power than anything else.
Alistair took a few steps forward and stopped when he reached Solona’s side. “I’ll take care of the spell.”
“Alistair?” Cullen questioned upon hearing his former friend’s voice. He peered up at the other man, the lines of his brow creased from distress. “All the misdeeds of my past truly have come back to haunt me. Does the cruelty of demons really have no bounds?”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, mate?” Garrett questioned. “He’s a right sight out of it and may attack us as soon as that shield’s gone.”
Alistair gestured to Cullen. “Look at him. He may be out of his head, but he’s also weak as fuck. I’m fairly certain the five of us can handle one half-starved templar.”
“I’ve seen a lot of desperate men perform desperate acts over my days,” the pirate argued. “I’ll keep my sword out and my guard up, anyway, mate. If it’s all the same to you.”
The warrior shrugged dismissively. “Whatever works for you there, pal.”
He closed his eyes and cleared his mind, focusing on the flickering flame of a lone candle in the darkness. Typical, everyday spells didn’t require such intense concentration to negate them. Disrupting most magic normally entailed a simple thought for Alistair, but the barrier devised from blood magic was more powerful than most he was accustomed to.
As the grey tendrils of smoke floated toward him in his vision, Alistair could feel the energy emanating from the shield begin to wane. Within a few short moments, he opened his eyes to see the last of the magic dissipate into nothingness. The very second the air was cleared, Cullen removed the sword from his back and lunged toward his former friend, spurring Garrett to use the pommel of his cutlass to whack the templar in the back of his head.
When Cullen crumpled to the floor in an unconscious heap, the pirate arced his left brow and drove his blade back into its scabbard. “I tried to warn you, mate. Maybe next time you’ll listen.”
Smug bastard.
Alistair wanted to say the words aloud. He wanted to tell the pirate to just get over himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it under the gaze of those aquamarine eyes. Instead, he mumbled the only thing the fluttering knot in his stomach would allow.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Suddenly, the murmuring chants echoing down from the overhead chamber turned to screaming and cries of pain. Wynne gasped then pulled her staff before rushing to the stairway.
“We have to help them,” she exclaimed as she ascended the steps. “Now!”
“Wait,” Solona commanded, but the senior enchanter was already at the door. The Warden pulled the scroll she retrieved from the mage’s body in the room where they encountered the sloth demon and quickly began to read aloud.

*“In voltus, Vocare nos lucis obiectu
Et clipeum, Ad tantae cladis finem
Ex magica vacuum, Oculis et auribus resistere
Virtutem autem interfecit, Et visio desistere”
As soon as she was finished speaking the words of the spell, Solona rolled up the parchment and shoved it at her sister. “Keep that thing handy. You may need to use it again while we’re up there.” With an angry scowl, the young Warden stomped toward the stairway. When she reached the bottom step, she turned to her remaining companions. “Are the rest of you coming? Or are you just going to stand there like idiots while I do all the work?”
After the maleficar and their leader who started the entire mess were defeated, there were only sixteen mages left alive in the Harrowing Chamber besides the First Enchanter, and Irving would only vouch for twelve of them to be trusted. Miriana could hardly believe the devastation Uldred had caused as she and the others were forced to step over dead bodies to return to the door that would lead them out. The stench of rotten flesh and sulfur emanating from the slain demons and those mages who had been killed and left to decay since the onslaught began was overpowering. If it hadn’t been for Faith helping to steady her constitution, Miriana wasn’t sure she could have made it back to the rotunda without fainting or, at least, vomiting.
As foul as the rotunda had smelled when they entered the upper room, it was a welcome breath of fresh air after being inside the Harrowing Chamber while they fought the last of the demons, abominations, and rebel mages. By the time they exited, the templar they found trapped when they arrived was gone. Miriana only hoped he wouldn’t cause trouble to the three female mages and two children they left downstairs. He had been out of his mind from lyrium withdrawal and being tortured. There was no telling what he was capable of in such a state.
While the First Enchanter told his version of what took place at Kinloch, everyone else remained silent, all lost in their own thoughts as the old man prattled on. Miriana was certain it was an interesting enough tale, but the graveled tone of Irving’s voice grated her already frazzled nerves for some odd reason, and she just couldn’t bring herself to pay him much heed. Instead, she opted to watch her sister, who was ambling along with a slight limp.
Solona’s eyes remained straightforward and completely unfocused as she toyed with an amulet that hung from a long silver chain around her neck. It appeared to be a tiny shield, but it was difficult to determine for sure with the way the young Warden was grasping it and rubbing her thumb across its surface. From what Miriana could see of it, though, it looked to be a templar amulet, but she dismissed the notion. Why in the Maker’s name would her sister be wearing one of those?
Then, she remembered the ensnared templar. Solona said he was referring to her when he was lamenting about being in love with a mage. Although it was forbidden in the Circle, it wasn’t completely unheard of for mages and templars to become involved with each other. Miriana knew of at least three such couples in Ostwick. She even suspected that First Enchanter Wenda and Knight Commander Quillon were guilty of the odd romantic encounter. If Solona and that templar really were a couple, Miriana surmised her twin must have been miserable with grief over the man’s behavior.
Miri sidestepped to her right so that she was in whispering earshot of her sister. “Are you alright?”
Solona’s face remained unchanged upon answering her twin’s question. “I am.”
Miriana pursed her lips in frustration. She knew her sister was lying. The more upset Solona was, the more stoic she became. Their father had always called it “putting on a brave face”. It was an art form Solona perfected as a child, and it was exactly the same expression she wore the day their mother disappeared.
“Solona…” Miri began.
“What do you intend to do now?” her twin interrupted.
“What?”
“What do you intend to do now?” the other woman asked more forcefully. “It’s a simple question, Miriana. You were transferred to Kinloch from your previous Circle, were you not? Now, with this Circle in shambles, what are your plans for the future?”
It was a query that took Miri a bit by surprise. Since being faced with such chaos in the tower upon her arrival, it was something the young mage hadn’t really considered. She was still possessed by a Fade spirit and, so, a possible danger to others, and she was still a mage. She didn’t really see where she had a lot of options in the matter.
She shrugged. “I suppose I’ll stay here. Maybe help in the clean-up and rebuilding. Unless the Knight Commander decides to transfer the remaining mages until more templars can be brought in. I’m not really sure what the protocol is when something like this happens.”
Solona’s chin tilted slightly higher in the air. “Just as I thought. That’s all I needed to know.”
Miriana couldn’t imagine what her sister meant by those words, but it was obvious they were intended to be a dismissal. Even though it had been fourteen years since they had been a part of each other’s lives, Miri still knew Solona well enough to realize her twin had no intention of speaking to her further at that moment. Part of her hoped she and her sister would be able to bond again, but it was seeming more and more that it was just wishful thinking on Miriana’s part.
When they finally reached the main entrance hall, the Knight Commander seemed less than pleased to see all of them alive. He sneered at Solona upon the young Warden’s approach, his nostrils flared and lips curled with utter disdain for the woman. He presented First Enchanter Irving with a slightly bored expression and a small tilt of the head.
“Irving. You live.”
The old enchanter chuckled. “A fact that I am certain fills you with great joy, Greagoir.”
“Of course,” the Knight Commander drawled before returning his attention to Solona. “You have completed your end of our bargain, so I suppose I have no choice but to comply with mine. You will have the aid of every gifted who has successfully passed their Harrowing that Irving deems worthy and two dozen templars. When you are ready for them to fight, send a missive to the tower and I will send them along to wherever you need them.”
“Thank you, Greagoir,” said Solona with a small nod of acknowledgement for his cooperation. “But, I have need of these mages before we battle the darkspawn.”
“That wasn’t our bargain,” the Knight Commander argued.
“But it was,” the Warden countered. “You agreed that any mages who could be saved would be committed to aiding the Grey Wardens. I never specified that aid would only come in battle. At this moment, there is a child in Redcliffe who has been possessed by a demon. Under normal circumstances, that sort of thing would not be a concern for my order.
“However, the child in question just happens to be the son of the Arl of Redcliffe. It is my intention to procure Arl Eamon’s forces to defend against the Blight, and, as of now, our best bargaining chip is saving the boy. I need these mages to perform a ritual to enter the Fade and drive the demon out.”
Greagoir’s lids constricted as he contemplated the Warden Commander’s words, making it apparent to everyone in the room he was attempting to find a loophole to weasel his way out of Solona’s demands. It was obvious he had no intention of helping the Wardens past honoring what his bargain with her dictated. After a few moments, he finally breathed a perturbed sigh.
“Very well,” he groused. “But only six, including Irving. And you will take four templars along to guard them.” He gestured to Cullen who stood several inches to his left. “And I will commit this one to travel with you until the Blight’s ended.”
Garrett, who had been silent since they left the Harrowing Chamber, stepped forward with a befuddled expression. “But that bloke’s out of his head.” He gestured to Alistair with a nod. “He already tried to kill him. I’d wager he’s more a danger to the Wardens than the darkspawn.”
The Knight Commander’s shoulder slowly lifted then fell, his face bearing a smug grin. “Take it or leave it, Warden. However, if you reject any of my templars, I will have to be forced to assume you no longer wish to go through with our bargain.”
Solona folded her arms across her chest and shifted her weight onto her left leg, her face completely unreadable. “Fine. He will accompany the Wardens until the Blight is over.”
“And you will not be allowed to take any lyrium with you, save what the three templars returning to the tower will carry for their personal use,” Greagoir added, his grin widening.
“Very well,” the Warden seethed, her even countenance finally at is breaking point. “Is there anything else?”
The Knight Commander crossed his arms. “No. I believe that’s it. You may leave whenever you’re ready. I expect the mages and my templars to return within a week.”
“And if they don’t?” she questioned.
“Then the bargain is at an end,” he said. “Unless any of my other templars decide to stay with you for the duration. A decision I will leave entirely at their discretion. As far as I’m concerned, you can never have too many templars watching over mages who are allowed to live outside the Circle.” He hesitated for a moment. “And you may keep Senior Enchanter Wynne with you. I know her to be loyal to the Circle and she could be a valuable asset.”
Miriana thought her sister would be happy about the fact that she was going to be allowed to add a senior enchanter to her list of companions. To her surprise, her twin seemed more agitated than ever.
“Alright, Greagoir,” Solona agreed through narrowed lids before turning to the First Enchanter. “Irving, please get your mages ready. We leave in twenty minutes. I will be waiting outside.”
The old man smiled. “Of course, Warden.”
As the First Enchanter and his chosen mages headed for the inner chambers to gather their belongings, Solona spun on her heel and began walking in the opposite direction toward the outer door. After only a few steps, she halted her progression and turned back to Greagoir with the most determined expression Miriana had ever seen on her sister.
“By the way, Knight Commander,” she said. “There is one more thing.”
He heaved a resonant sigh. “Haven’t the Grey Wardens asked for enough from this Circle?”
“Not quite,” she replied. “I am invoking the Right of Conscription.” She pointed a finger to Miri. “On that mage. And don’t try to argue with me about it. You have no choice. Even Grand Cleric Marcine herself wouldn’t refuse the Right.” She indicated to Alistair with a wave of her hand. “My fellow Warden here can attest to that. He was conscripted under her protests. Otherwise, I suppose I could send a missive to the Divine, but I don’t think she would look very highly upon a Knight Commander who refused to allow the Right to stand during a Blight, especially given what happened at Ostagar.”
Miriana stood in stunned silence. She couldn’t believe her ears. What in the Maker’s name was Solona doing? She didn’t want to be a Grey Warden. She didn’t mind helping with the possessed boy if she could, but she belonged in the Circle.
“Very well,” Greagoir snarled. “Just get her out of my sight.”
Solona turned to her twin with just the hint of a satisfied smirk. “Come along, Miriana. Your new life awaits.”
My understanding of templars and lyrium was highly lacking when I met Cullen. I had seen men whose minds had been ruined in battle and never recovered, and I assumed Cullen had reached that point himself. I am very grateful that Solona kept me from killing the man. Over the years, he has remained a close friend and trusted ally.
Greagoir was most definitely not happy about being played so well by Solona, but, even back then, when she put her mind to something, most people never stood a chance. He expected her to cow down before him, to fear him the way so many other mages in that Circle did. He didn’t know her at all, really. Solona learned to play the game very well during her years in the tower. It was a skill she put to good use during the Blight, and later, in the political arena.
I can’t imagine what my life would have been like if Solona hadn’t conscripted Miri. She was the reason I left my ship, the reason I decided to join in the fight against the Blight, and the woman who showed me that love doesn’t always have to end in pain.
-G
Notes/Spell Translation:
From the Fade, Call we a barrier of light
A shield be made, To end our plight
Magic born of the Void, Our ears and eyes resist
Its power now destroyed, Its vision will desist
- 50
- 51
- 52
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The True Tale Of The Fifth Blight

Notes/Spell Translation: