“What if Alistair met Duncan in the Fade instead of the Warden?”
“D-Duncan? You’re alive?” Alistair could scarcely believe his eyes. Before him stood the man who was more than just his mentor and rescuer from mindless servitude. This was the person who had acted more as a father to him than anyone else. One of the few who cared about Alistair, and not what he represented.
That familiar brilliant smile broke through the dark beard, “Of course I’m alive, Alistair. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Alistair felt faint, “At Ostagar...” He trailed off, not sure what to say.
Duncan sobered, “Poor Cailan. We’d all warned him. But why do you think I died there? Yes, I was badly wounded, but one of the healers that came with the Circle was able to take care of my injuries. But enough of such sadness. Tell me, what do you think of Weisshaupt?”
There wasn’t something right here, but his head felt too…foggy to think clearly. “It’s nice enough I suppose. But why are we here and not at Ferelden dealing with the Blight?”
“Are you feeling all right, Alistair? Don’t you remember? You’re the big hero by killing the Archdemon and leading the way to setting the underground lairs ablaze. The darkspawn are no more.”
Alistair frowned, he didn’t remember any of that. And how could he be the hero? He was just lucky he could be a Grey Warden without screwing that up like he did everything else. And to be honest, he felt cheated. If he really did all those things, he wanted to remember it dammit.
“Well you have just recovered from your injuries. Why don’t you take some time? Explore the castle. I’m sure with time your memories will recover.”
Time passed, but it still seemed blurry to Alistair. And the other Wardens seemed…disconnected from everything. They’d exchange pleasantries, but that’s it. None of them would talk to him. If he’d done everything Duncan had claimed, he would’ve thought there’d be questions, lots of them. He supposedly did it, and he had questions. And Marlana…where was she? Alistair thought they’d become friends enough that she’d seek him out to at least say goodbye before she left for…wherever.
Not to mention the constant feel of magic in the background. A templar couldn’t sense magic the way a mage could, but he could still pick up the presence. This was worse than being at the Circle with the nearly overwhelming taste of magic.
Troubled, he sought out Duncan who was the only one who seemed to show any signs of life. The older man looked up from the book he was reading, “Something bothering you, Alistair?”
He started to pace, “A few things. First, where’s Marlana? I haven’t seen her since I’ve gotten here.”
Duncan looked at him questioningly, “Marlana? I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“You know, the young woman from Highever, odd silver hair, big blue eyes, thinks way too much?” His concern was changing into something else at Duncan’s headshake, “You know, the only recruit who survived the Joining at Ostagar?”
“Oh!” Duncan’s puzzlement changed to recognition, then sorrow, “I’m afraid your battle with the Archdemon took more out of you than we thought. She didn’t survive the Joining. None of them did, sadly.”
No, that he knew wasn’t right. He knew Lana had survived, survived the Tower of Ishal, Flemeth, the mad flight from Lothering to…
He remembered. Everything. Including the demon they encountered in the Tower.
Suddenly he was no longer in his simple shirt and pants, but the heavy chainmail that Lana had dug up for him, the sword Oathkeeper in hand, and his shield in the other. “Who are you? Really? And where is this place? I know you aren’t Duncan and this isn’t Weisshaupt.”
The thing with Duncan’s face scowled at him, “Foolish boy. I’ve given you happiness! And you throw it in my face?”
Happiness? It thought he was happy here? Frustrated, bored and a little scared was more like it. But now? Now he was just angry that something had been screwing with his head. And furious that it would use Duncan in such a way.
“I don’t think you know what happiness really is. Demon.”
The demon howled, and lunged for him. He was ready though, smashing it back with his shield, then caught it in the middle with his sword. He wouldn’t let himself think as he brought the sword around in a powerful backhanded swing, sending the head of the imposter bouncing away. He knelt before the body, braced by sword and shield and his head bowed.
He stiffened at the touch on his shoulder. Reluctantly, Alistair looked up to see pain and tear filled sapphire eyes set in a face ravaged by grief. Marlana didn’t say anything as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders offering silent comfort. He shifted to return the hug, glad for at least one lie and he wasn’t truly alone.
Edit for ToP:
Modifié par Reika, 04 décembre 2010 - 10:46 .
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