Immediate Aftermath
"My aim then was to remain alive and get to Ostagar. Find Fergus and petition the King. Surely Cailan would listen to me if only for past times’ sake if I reached him. As I put one foot in front of the other, I began to believe that this was possible, that things would sort themselves out… that the nightmare I had found myself in would come to an end. Having been given a lift by a passing carter to Kinloch Hold, it took me just over two weeks walking to get to Ostagar.
"The signs as I approached were not good. The Imperial Highway that I was now on appeared to be damaged and scorched. Cadavers were frequent. They frightened me. I would scuttle past them as fast as I could, pretending they weren’t there…
"I ignored what my intuition was telling me. The west wind brought the stench of death and decay to my nose but still I told myself that all was well, the battle must have taken place already. The showdown. Fergus would be alive. King Cailan would be victorious. The few surviving Darkspawn would have retreated to the gloomy abode from whence they had emerged in the first place.
"All would be well, all would be well, all would be well…
"That was what I was saying to myself like a prayer or a litany when I walked over the crest of the last hill and looked down at the valley below me.
"And I saw…
"Did you see the immediate aftermath of Ostagar, Alistair?”
“No.” He replied in a hushed voice. His face looked ashen, “Neriya and I were both recovering from being wounded after lighting the fire in the Tower of Ishael. It was described to me… and we went back to the battlefield a few months afterwards… It was covered in snow by then. But not the immediate aftermath, no.”
“It was like a field of flesh… There were tangles of sinews and limbs everywhere. Raw rotting meat strewn about the earth, wherever I looked. Mottled and discoloured, mounds of it… Just lying there… It was hard to believe that, not so long ago, those piles of offal had been living, moving, feeling beings… The smell was too awful for words… Sweet at first and then turning sickly, stale and putrid.
“I felt faint. I felt like turning away, going back down the hill and then walking back up again to see if anything had changed. But I knew that wouldn’t work. So I went down.
“Up until then I had been able to tell myself, unconvincingly, that this was a Darkspawn rout that Ferelden had prevailed. But as a I drew nearer there could be no doubt. Most of the eyeless, gape-mouthed, sunken-cheeked, sallow corpses were unmistakably human.
“Worse than anything was the thought that that one of those twisted bodies had once been my brother Fergus but there were so many, I did not have a hope of finding him.
“I tried though…
“A month ago, barely a month ago, I had been eating off china plates, entertaining casual lovers in my bed chamber, surrounded by a doting, caring family, never wanting for suitors or friends.
“Now as it occurred to me that Fergus would want me to live, I found myself overturning rotting cadavers, looking for him but also plundering the dead as I went, a soiled rag tied over my mouth and nose in an attempt to reduce the stench and to keep off the flies; routing among maggots and putrefaction, looking for clothes, weapons, money anything that would help me survive.
Utterly alone.”