Chapter Sixteen: World's End

Previously: Blight

 

In the distance, Margeria could hear the drums of war.

 

The rapid beating pounded in time with her thudding heart. She was in her chambers with her servants, her assistant Orlando, and the fully armed elf Zevran. The mood was hushed, and tense.

"We should not have come to Ferelden before the end of the Blight," Orlando mumbled in his native tongue. "We should have let the savages deal with their own problems."

 

Zevran shot him a subtle look. When he responded in Antivan, he kept his tone neutral. "The Blight is everyone's problem, my lord."

 

Margeria agreed with him, also avoiding the commong tongue. "People with a common goal can move mountains. People with a common enemy can shift the stars. If the armies of the world cannot stop the Blight here, we would still have to deal with them in Antiva."

 

Orlando scowled slightly. "At least in Antiva, I would die with my family."

 

Margeria's stared at her door, which was barred from the inside. "We will not die," she stated firmly. "Not this time. Not when we have so many debts to collect."

 

***

 

Arl Eamon watched in alarm as King Alistair and Lady Elissa Cousland armed themselves. Alistair donned his late brother's armor, while Elissa dressed as a Grey Warden, perhaps for the last time. The metal glinted in the firelight of their sitting room.

 

"Your Majesty," the Arl protested, "I thought we already addressed this. You cannot go to the battlefield."

 

"I won't need to," Alistair said grimly. "At Ostagar, the darkspawn caught us by surprise when they tunneled into the Tower of Ishal."

 

Elissa was equally grim as she readied her dual blades. "The battlefield's coming to us, old man." Near her feet, even her great war hound Baby was stretching, readying for a fight.

 

Eamon's eyes widened in fear. Alistair offered him a small smile to calm him.

 

"Just stay behind us," the King said. "We are the experts, after all."

 

"The Archdemon will fly high, so that's where the senior Wardens will be, on towers and rooftops," Elissa said, reviewing the battle plan. "The junior Wardens will be on the ground, with the armies."

 

"A thousand gold pieces to whoever kills the Archdemon," Alistair declared. "I'd offer more, but I'll have a city to rebuild when this over."

 

Eamon blinked. "Sir, you'll have a country to rebuild."

 

"Where's my brother?" Elissa suddenly demanded. She frowned. "He was supposed to be here."

 

"He's escorting the Lady Goldanna and her children here," Eamon replied. "They will arrive shortly."

 

The King shuddered. "Please don't call my sister that."

 

Elissa looked confused. "When she marries my brother, she will be a lady. She'll literally be a Teyrna. You do get that right?" she asked him.

 

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Alistair grumbled. 

 

***

 

They heard the dragon first. Its roar was grating and bordering on shrill. The beast was so great that when it flew over Denerim, its wings blocked out both moons, darkening the land.

 

After the flyover, the first wave of darkspawn came. They didn't march. They ran through the city like rabid animals, cutting down everyone in sight. When the Dalish archers released a volley, their arrows barely fazed the demons.

 

Warden Riordan stood atop Fort Drakon, gritting his teeth as he watched the carnage below. He wanted to be down there, but as a senior Warden with few years left, the Archdemon was his responsibility.

 

For such a large beast, it was fast. It swooped and dove and spun midair like a small bird, its long tail lashing at buildings. Riordan's heart began to beat faster as he waited impatiently for the dragon to return his way. Timing was everything. He needed to pass under Drakon... just... one... time...

 

***

 

"Your Majesty," a soldier reported from outside the door, "the darkspawn have overrun the Palace District."

 

The blood drained from Arl Eamon's face as the Cousland siblings exchanged looks.

 

Alistair remained calm. "Have they entered the Palace?"

 

"No, Your Majesty," the soldier replied. "They are headed for Drakon."

 

The Wardens looked at each other. "Riordan," Elissa whispered. "He needs time," she added urgently.

 

Fergus drilled his blue eyes into Alistair's. "Your Majesty, you cannot leave the palace."

 

"But I can," Elissa said. When everyone looked at her, she insisted, "I am not royalty. I'm not even a firstborn. I most likely cannot bear an heir. What I am is a Grey Warden, and right now, every single one of us is needed out there."

 

Fergus looked at his sister, trying not to panic. "What difference can one more Warden make?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps none," she answered honestly. "But I have battled werewolves, abominations, and the undead." She chuckled. "I've traveled to the Fade and back. Alistair's journey may have led him to the throne, but mine has led me here." She met the King's eyes. "To the world's end."

 

Alistair was visibly shaken. "Elissa," he began and stopped, not knowing what to say. Tears burned in the back of his eyes as he tried not to think of all the people he'd already lost.

 

She smiled, trying to be strong for him. "Don't worry, friend. I'll be back. I swear it by Andraste's holy knickers."

 

She winked and quickly ducked out the royal suite, followed by Baby wagging his tail.

 

"Come, soldier," she called to the young man. "Let's go save our friends."

 

He led them from the palace, through the courtyards, out the gates, and into the city.

 

In the chaos of fire and blood, it was Ostagar all over again, except this time, Elissa was oddly calm. Unlike her gowns, her armor wasn't too tight. The blades felt more natural in her hands than golden goblets, and her heart beat with excitement instead of fear.

 

For weeks now, her life had been dinners, guests, propriety, and repressing everything about herself that made her real. Now she could let go, dive into the fray, and no one would care if she was brutal.

 

It had been some time since she cut down darkspawn; it seemed easier than she remembered. The sight of her hacking and slashing without mercy seemed to galvanize the junior wardens, which in turn rallied the armies. She quickly found herself fighting by some familiar faces.

 

Lyna Mahariel was lethal on the battlefield. Like Elissa, the blond elf wielded two long daggers. Her elven reflexes were lightning fast. Her focus was as sharp as the blades in her hand. Atop the roofs, her Dalish archers provided cover fire, allowing the Dalish on the ground to cut through the horde.

 

Oghren was thankfully sober for a change. In a shocking display of discipline, he and a team of dwarves chopped down darkspawn with axes. It was like watching woodsmen fell trees in a forest.

 

And Elissa would never get over the sight of Wynne and Morrigan together. The two mages favored ice magic; they stood back to back as they froze the darkspawn. Wynne looked tense, serious, while Morrigan seemed to take perverse pleasure in having free reign of magic. She cackled as she turned demons into glacial statues.

 

Meanwhile... up above...

 

***

Landing on the dragon's back and driving his sword into its neck was easy. That said, Riordan was having trouble severing the head.

 

Despite having brought his longest sword, the Warden had underestimated the sheer size of the Archdemon. It didn't help that the massive beast was doing everything possible to shake him off.

 

Riordan tried to use the creature's wriggling to his advantage. If it turned its head one way, he pushed his blade in the opposite direction. And while it didn't kill the dragon, the damage eventually forced it land on top of Fort Dragon.

 

It was gasping and writhing as blood sprayed from its throat. Riordan seized the advantage, continuing to hack at the neck. The Archdemon buckled beneath him, eventually pushing him off. But when it turned to face him, he drove his blade straight through its left eye and into its brain.

 

It tried to screech, but could barely gargle as death slowly claimed it. The light faded from its remaining eyes as its body finally slumped over, twitching.

 

Riordan stared down at the dead dragon. He was breathing heavily and his heart was thudding as he solemnly stated, "I declare this Blight ended."

 

***

 

Elissa casually walked back to the palace, watching the darkspawn flee past her. Alistair wasn't surprised when she returned, covered in demon entrails and trekking blood across the rugs. He, Eamon, and Fergus gawked in silence as she freely sauntered over to the refreshments table and poured herself a cup of wine.

 

After a long she drink, she said simply, "Alistair, we really should think about a small wedding. You were right about needing to rebuild the city, and I have to tell you... it's a mess out there."

 

Next: As the Crow Flies