David Gaider - The Calling

Then she quickly blinked away the tears and resumed her aura of command, the moment of grief past. She removed her hand from his shoulder and nodded at him brusquely. “Say your farewells,” she ordered him, “and do it quickly. We move out as soon as we’re able.”

He collapsed to his knees, the tears driven from him and replaced with a stark blankness as he stared down at Julien’s corpse. The Commander turned and walked back to Kell without further comment, and Fiona slowly got up and followed her.

Duncan looked at Maric beside him, but the man simply stared uncomfortably at the ground. He had barely known Julien. Duncan himself had only known the warrior for a few months, but the others? Utha and Nicolas had been his constant companions for years, if not more. The dwarf knelt down next to Nicolas and put her hand on his shoulder, and this time he didn’t pull away. He just stared, stricken.

There had been a lot of death back in Val Royeaux. Duncan had grown up on the streets, and it wasn’t uncommon for people there to simply disappear. Sometimes they were arrested, vanishing to some dank dungeon never to resurface again. Sometimes people got sick and there was no medicine to help, and sometimes there were murders. He’d known a young girl, a fine pickpocket who’d taken a fancy to him once, that had been struck by a nobleman’s carriage and had her leg broken. She’d lain there in the street begging for help and been ignored, and by the time she’d finally crawled out of the mud and into a nearby alleyway it had only been to die from blood loss.

So death was no stranger to him. Still, this was the first time he’d seen a Grey Warden fall in battle in the months since he’d joined the order. It seemed at times like they were indomitable, warriors and mages that simply could not be taken down by any force in Thedas, and yet here was evidence that that simply wasn’t so.

He stepped forward, placing a hand on Nicolas’s other shoulder, and was about to offer a comforting word when the man jumped up and spun on him. The sudden apoplectic rage in those eyes sent him stumbling back.

“You!” Nicolas snarled. Though Utha tried to restrain him, he ignored her. “Julien died saving your pathetic life. He should have let that creature snap you up.”

“I didn’t—,” Duncan stammered.

“What were you doing, leaping on it? Do you think there are no consequences for your actions? You act the rash fool and look what becomes of it!” He gestured down at Julien, new tears streaming from his eyes.

“Hey!” Maric protested. “He brought that dragon down!”

“He brought Julien down, too,” Nicolas growled. The blond warrior glared at Duncan, and there was nothing but accusation there. Nicolas was absolutely right, after all. The image of Julien pulling him away from the dragon’s jaws played in his head: It should have been him lying there, neck broken and twisted around. It should have been him who’d paid the price for his bravado, but instead someone else had stepped in and paid it for him.

His eyes met Utha’s, and the dwarf stared back at him in silent anguish. She was the most compassionate person he’d ever met, and yet she didn’t move to intervene. She closed her eyes and lowered her head. She agreed with Nicolas. She didn’t need to say it; he could see it as plain as day.

Duncan retreated, the force of Nicolas’s hatred driving him back. Maric shouted his name, but he turned and ran. The glow from the lava grew dim, and before he knew it he’d run out of the cavern and into the darkness, away from the others. The shadows welcomed him, drawing him into their embrace, and all he could do was to keep on running.

Fiona glanced at Maric as he walked beside her. “You didn’t need to come with me,” she muttered. “I am perfectly capable of finding Duncan by myself.”

“I know that,” he said.

“I have a spell that will lead me right to him.”

“So you told me earlier.”

“And if I were to sense any darkspawn coming, I’d go back.”

“I know that, too.” He looked at her seriously. “I also know there’s more than just darkspawn down here. I’ve had firsthand experience with such creatures. You shouldn’t be alone out here any more than Duncan should.”

She couldn’t really argue with that logic, so she sighed and turned her attention back to the tunnel ahead. Maric had been frustratingly agreeable since they’d left the dragon’s cavern. He was being respectful of Julien’s loss, she supposed, and that was unexpected. There were times when she thought Maric a fool, a man who seemed to get by on his irreverent charm instead of acting as she would have expected a king to act. And then there were times like this when he seemed thoughtful and competent, and she could see perhaps a sliver of the leader his reputation claimed him to be.

Which was the real man, then? It was impossible for her to tell. So instead she tried to ignore him and concentrate on their task. Frustratingly, she found it almost harder to ignore Maric when he was quietly following beside her than when he was chattering away. Surely he’d planned that.

They walked for a short time through a winding passage, the white light of her staff showing the way even though it probably was unnecessary. There was a lot of the phosphorescent lichen down this path, which at least meant that Duncan hadn’t wandered this far completely in the dark. If he had, what he had done would have been suicidal on top of being extremely foolish. She was still going to kill him when they found him.

And if she didn’t, Genevieve certainly would. The Commander had been livid when she’d learned Duncan had run off. There had been a moment where she very nearly ordered them to move on, leaving the lad behind to fend for himself. Fiona had seen the thought cross the woman’s mind, and only reluctantly had it been discarded.

The darkspawn weren’t on them yet, after all. They had a little time, if not much. Fiona had volunteered to retrieve Duncan, if she could. The fact that Maric accompanied her made it less likely they would return to the dragon’s cavern only to find the others gone, but it was not impossible. The King’s knowledge of the way to Ortan thaig was far less useful now that they were essentially lost.

“Look at that,” he murmured, pointing down to the ground. There were patches of colored moss, purple and grey mostly but also bits of orange. The walls in these caves were moist, and the air was humid and smelled of musty greenery. Strange how they had just left behind a cavern with streams of lava and here was already something completely different. She’d expected mostly stone and more stone down here in the underground, but there was much more. It was full of life. Indeed, there were dragons .

“It’s just moss,” she said.

“No, I mean it’s not corrupted. Do you notice there’s very little evidence of the darkspawn around here? Ever since we left the Deep Roads.”

“They probably don’t come this way often, thanks to the dragon.”

“Do they need to? The corruption spreads everywhere, I thought.”

She had to admit he had a point. As they’d descended, the taint had become so thick it almost choked the air, and yet here there was almost nothing. Perhaps it was the lava and the heat, burning the corruption away? Perhaps it was the presence of the dragon. The Old Gods were said to be ancient dragons, after all. There could be a link.

As they approached a cave opening ahead, she heard the sound of running water. They stepped into another large cavern, and from where they stood on the edge of a small cliff they looked out over what had to be some kind of underground lake. The water was cloudy green, lit from beneath by phosphorescent rocks until it shone like an emerald on the rocky ceiling. It had an eerie beauty to it, she thought.