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Wintermarch 9: 46 Dragon (10:02 SE) - Return to You (3)

  Alistair felt the tingling and crawling sensation on his skin increase, stirring a numbness. The clashing of steel, desperate cries and digusting thrummging and demonic shrieking pierced the air. He applied his skill No More Darkness to boost the fighters' resistance to the demons on the shoreline near boat wreckages.

  "Stinky Brood Mother take you because Andraste won't!" He roared as he unhooked his greatsword off his back at a deadrun for a shade demon.

  He mentally applied his Blessed Blades skill to empower him and the other fighters with holy light. With a mighty swing, his sword slammed down on the pus-corpse-like demon, crushing it to the ground to make it dissipate.

  The fighters were perked up by his timely save. Their morale lifted when they saw he was a Grey Warden on their side.

  Alistair fought hard, alongside three rogues and warriors to purge the demons pouring out of the Static Rifts. But they kept coming, he had to lock onto the location of the Ventatori source. His arm's tingle was maddening when he neared the cliff face where a creepy skull was stuck on a pike high on a cliff. He caught sight of dark robe mages with their pointy hoods concealing their faces and staffs in the hands.

  "They look like munchkin mages." He growled, glancing about for a way to get them by surprise.

  He cut through some demons near the rifts, saving one of the fighter's heads from being knocked off.

  "Can you cover me while I make it up there?" he said to a fighter, gesturing to the mages.

  The fighters caught on and nodded.

  He applied a simple Spell Purge to cleanse the spirits and reduce the threats the fighters need to handle, then sprinted up to the Venatori mages who had seen him coming and were casting elemental magic at him.

  He applied the Wraith of Heaven and Charging Bull to dash forward like a blur to the nearest mage, with a swift pulverizing strike he slammed his greatsword on the mage's head and followed with angle swings that cut through the body before it could counter.

  The other three mages attempted to teleport out, but he countered this as he used all his remaining stamina to perform a massacre attack that caught the teleporting mages in a deadly whirlwind to eliminate them.

  The mages's bodies dissipated, but the two blighted rift orbs remained. Alistair shook his head with disgust as he gathered his powers and swung his greatsword high and heavily to shatter the orbs to render them useless.

  He dropped to the ground: through his exhaustion he saw the static rift close and the ground fighters able to kill the demons and see their section of shore safe again.

  "Damn those pointy-hood Vints." He panted as he fished through his jerkin pocket for his small flask containing a stiff drink. After he downed a few gulps to feel more revived he went back to the fighters.

  It was the first time he saw they wore blue and silver uniform armor bearing the emblem of the Blades of Hessarian. He hadn't come across one for years.

  "Blades of Hessarian?" He said to the approaching warrior.

  "Yes, Ser Warden. We thank you for your aid, you saved our lives." The warrior bowed to him.

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  "Alistair is my name."

  The warrior's eyes light up with excitement. Alistair saw the others were also staring at him with wide-eyed wonder.

  "Messere Alistair, forgive us for not recognizing you earlier. We've been waiting for you. Your Worship sent word of your arrival."

  "He did?" Alistair blinked, mildly surprised but not shocked. "Just how many groups does Anri still have loyal to him," he said more to himself with a chuckle.

  "It's likely just us. Unlike all the other fake believers, we fully commit to our Herald and his righteous cause no matter what lies are spun of him. And the fact that no one else has been able to defeat him speaks volumes of his divine status."

  "You honestly believe he's still the Herald?"

  "We do. Actions speak louder than words, and his actions have most definitely proven his hand wielding Andraste's justice and benevolent grace. Even without the anchor, he continues to do a herald's work."

  Alistair laughed internally. News from Hasmal must've spread fast and wide with the return of the Herald. It was truly remarkable how these juicy bits of gossip could reach one corner of Thedas to another without raven carriers. Here Anri was trying so hard to dismantle his legacy and just be a man. He found the situation absolutely hilarious. He changed the topic.

  "Then you know why I'm here."

  "We've been told to take you to Grand Enchanter Fiona."

  The warriors turned to lead the way, unware that Alistair's expression had momentarily contorted with genuine shock. He shook his head to clear the rush of jumbled thoughts.

  "Grand Enchanter Fiona? Why would Anri want me to meet the leader of the Mage Rebellion?"

  His old life memories bull-rushed to his head, screaming at him to turn back and walk away. But he calmed himself with deep breaths and resolved himself to follow his escort and see where it led him. There was no turning back.

  Their way was an uneventful trek up uneven terrain and wild-growing grassy and rocky hills. It was when they had reached Apostates Landing did Alistair feel there was another Rift Orb in the area. He saw two Venatori mages coordinating a static rift strike to the Hessarian warriors and the lone elven mage who was surrounded by the others, like they were keeping her protected. But she was casting some fierce magic to clean out oncoming demons with Wall of Ice sweeps and other crowd control abilities.

  He and his party didn't hesitate. His party of Hessarian warriors kept the mages rooted with upclose attacks to give Alistair openings to take them and the orbs out. With the orbs destroyed and static rifts closed, the ground party with the mage could finish off their enemy and take a well-deserved break.

  Alistair felt his heart racing so fast and with mixed emotions when he approached the others. His mind seemed to lapse into a trance as he approached the elven woman who was focused on healing the wounded with her magic.

  "Magic. Elven. It can't be." The voice in his head began screaming out angst and warnings to turn back. It wasn't too late to keep believing the lie that nothing had been wrong with his life.

  "And become a rage demon's thrall again, I think not." He laughed to himself so loudly it stirred the elven mage's attention.

  As soon as she saw him, she collapsed to the ground like a heavy weight had been dropped on her. "Anri, you..."

  Alistair frowned, she genuinely seemed shocked to see him. This made him determined to find out why. His focus on learning what this mage woman had to say drove out all his chaotic thoughts.

  No more lies or deceptions. He had to know the truth, even if it cut him brutally. After what Hawke and Fenris had done, nearly sacrificing their spirit and soul to give him this chance, it would be a dishonor to their efforts if he didn't at least hear the woman out.

  He knelt down and reached out his hand to help her help. Her body trembled with tears as she accepted his aid to stand. She was too emotional to say words, so Alistair calmed her with a gentle templar power and smile.

  "Perhaps we can find somewhere more comfortable for you, where we can talk." He suggested.

  She wiped aside her tears and nodded.

  The Blades of Hessarian protected their flanks as she led the way back to her cottage on the hill.

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