There and Back Again Ch. 002

Accepting Reality

And suddenly I awoke. I was somewhere dark, and quite confused. What had happened after the pyre had burnt itself out? I wasn't comfortable, exactly, but I was lying on something semi-soft. I stayed still, trying to get my bearings, when I finally noticed the soft beeping, the discomfort in my hand. An IV. I was in a hospital, again. The rest of it came rushing back - the blackouts, the dreams, the bus bench I had collapsed onto. I could feel the tears trickle down my face. All of it - the horror, the fighting, the blood, the digging, that baby...all of it was a dream. I rolled over, careful of the IV, and sobbed. What on earth was wrong with me? A nurse hustled in, noticing my movement. She laid a sympathetic hand on my shoulder while I cried. Eventually she helped me sit up, checking my vitals and my IV, before promising to get the doctor.

"Wait. How...how long? How long was I unconscious?"

"Almost two days. You had us scared. I'm glad to see you back awake. Try to relax now, okay? But don't fall asleep just yet."

I took mental stock of my body. I didn't have a catheter this time. That was good. Just one IV, and it looked to only be running fluid. Also good. I didn't feel hazy, like I'd been given any meds. Another check on the good side. However, unlike previous blackouts, I hurt. Everywhere. My back was in agony, and I wondered how long I had been slumped on that bus bench before the paramedics came. My feet and my hands were the next items that bothered me. I sat up further, turning up the lights, to get a better look, and stopped, stunned.

Both of my palms were covered in blisters. My nails were chipped, and in some places torn off. They reminded me of the time I tried to take up gardening, with disastrous results. They looked...like I had been digging. A lot. I checked my feet next, and discovered they also were not in good shape. I had a few superficial splinters, several scrapes, and some blisters there as well. What the hell?

I was still sitting, motionless, staring, when the doctor arrived. I'd met this one before, and sighed with relief as I saw him come through the door - he was one of the nice ones. One of the few who didn't think I was an escaped psych patient. I still covered my feet and clasped my hands together so he wouldn't see what I had discovered.

"I'm glad you're awake, Sierra."

"Hey, doc. Come here often?"

He laughed, and pulled over a stool.

"It's getting worse, isn't it?"

I nodded. "Two days, this time. It's my new record." He smiled, but I could see a shadow of worry in his face. "I had no idea panic attacks could be like this."

"They aren't panic attacks, Sierra. I don't know what they are, but I can tell you, they aren't that."

"How do you know?"

"Well...a lot of ways. I mean, you aren't awake at all, during those times. You don't respond to pain. No panic attack leaves someone unable to respond to pain. This time, we did an EEG while you were out. Tracing your brain waves? I thought maybe it was some weird form of seizure..."

I nodded in understanding. I'd heard of EEGs. I'd had one, once, earlier on in the blackout progression.

"Well, not only was it not a seizure...Sierra, I've never seen an EEG like this. It was completely flat. Even brain death leaves a particular pattern. You never, never, see one that's completely flat. I don't have the slightest idea what could cause that."

Now I was worried. Well, more worried. "Was I dead?"

"No, no. I mean, you were breathing, your heart was beating. There was no sign of anything wrong. Just...it was like no one was home." He paused. "Do you remember anything? I've always had the feeling you weren't telling me everything. I'm not going to tell anyone things you want kept confidential, but anything could help. Please."

I studied his face, thinking. Finally I decided to tell part of the truth, and see how he reacted.

"I...was dreaming."

"Dreaming?" I nodded. "About what?"

"Oh, you know. Dream stuff. Nightmares, really. You know, monsters and dragons. That sort of thing."

"That would certainly explain the screaming when you woke up, sometimes."

I nodded sheepishly.

"But...did you dream this time?" When I nodded again, he continued, "But...that's just not..." he stopped, obviously thinking. I waited.

"That's not possible! I had the EEG running all night, and most of today. If you'd been dreaming, I should have seen a REM sleep pattern. There wasn't." He looked up again. "There's something else, I can see it on your face. Will you tell me?"

I bit my lip, trying to decide. Maybe he'd lock me away in the psych ward.

Maybe that's where I belong. I finally nodded.

I turned my hands over, holding out my damaged palms, and pulling up the blankets so he could see my feet. He looked at them, his face flickering from confused, to surprised, to...concerned? Angry? I couldn't tell. He got up, assuring me he'd be right back, and stepped out. He came back momentarily with an armful of supplies, and shut the door in the face of a red-faced nurse. He settled back onto a stool, opening up supplies, and took to coating my hands and feet with a sick-smelling, greasy substance. It took a few seconds before the pain eased off, and I smiled gratefully. Thank god for topical painkillers. He then proceeded to wash out my wounds, pulling out splinters and scrubbing away dirt, all the while muttering curses under his breath about the incompetence that no one noticing my injuries. I got the impression it was aimed at himself as much as anyone else. Finally satisfied, he eyed some of the larger splinters he'd removed speculatively, before raising an eyebrow and meeting my gaze.

"Want to tell me where those all came from? Some of the ones in your feet look like pine needles. Where on earth would you get pine splinters?"

"That's just it. Nowhere. I live here. Downtown, even. I haven't left the city in months. There aren't any parks around, and even if there were...I don't make a habit of going there barefoot, in the middle of winter. It may not be snowing yet, but...I'm pretty sure if I'd been walking around barefoot, you'd be treating frostbite, not splinters. I don't do heavy labour. I don't garden. I have absolutely no idea how I could have blisters and splinters. I...am I going crazy?"

"If you're asking that, probably not." He smiled. "Crazy people are notorious for thinking they're sane. They don't question."

I laughed.

"But if you're asking that...you have some idea of how they got there, don't you. You're afraid I'll lock you up. Am I right?" I looked away, miserable, finally nodding. "I won't. I promise. I don't think you're crazy. Try me, okay?"

I let a few tears slip, before finally, finally describing my dream. I avoided calling them darkspawn, leaving it as 'monsters', and I left out the details of the upcoming battle and the name of the king I'd heard the women discussing, but otherwise I told him everything. The fight, the death, trying to bury all of those people. Barefoot, because my shoes were uncomfortable and I hadn't thought to reclaim them. I was openly sobbing by the end. He just sat, looking confused. I'm sure my expression echoed his, with the addition of the grief. He finally shook his head, trying to give me a reassuring smile, and took his leave. I cried a little while longer, and then lay in the bed, wondering when the straight jacket was coming.

*********

Two more boring days later, they released me from hospital again. Nothing further had come of my tests, and my waking EEG was normal. The doctor told me he'd spent some time looking up causes of a flat EEG, or dreaming causing injuries, but found nothing. I could tell he was reluctant to let me go, but there was nothing demonstrably wrong with me. Someone sick needed that bed. So I called a cab and went home. I convinced the cabby to stop for groceries on the way - everything I'd bought had gone missing, somehow - and I finally arrived home four days after leaving 'just for an hour'. What a pain.

Within a few more days my hands and feet had largely healed. I spent some time reading through the Dragon Age wiki, trying to find out if the events I'd been part of were in the game and I'd just forgotten, but found nothing. I tried searching on my own to see if anyone else described out-of-body experiences that were similar, or ended up on Thedas...all I found were communities of fan fiction writers. Scratch that. Not helping. Wondering when I would black out again, I tried to ensure that I was wearing comfortable boots, and two pairs of socks, and heavy clothing at all times, in case somehow it helped the next time I was pulled to Thedas. So sue me. Blisters and splinters hurt.

That expanded to carrying items in my pockets that I thought would be useful if I ended up stuck there again. Safety pins - I thought about that baby, hoping against hope he was safe. Pencils. Chalk. A compass. A Zippo lighter, full of lighter fluid, wrapped in a Ziploc bag. String. A tiny compact with a mirror. A comb. A print-out of a map of Thedas, from the wiki, also in a bag. A small kinetic powered flashlight, and extra bulbs. A spare pair of panties. I briefly considered buying a taser, but how would I recharge it? I tucked a Swiss army knife into my pants instead. I ordered a kit for purifying water online - something to do with iodine. I took a cab to a travel clinic, told them I was going to Africa, and got shots for everything I could think of, including updating my tetanus. I put a waterproof mattress cover on my bed.

The entire time, I felt like an ass for doing all of it. Planning it, as though I could bring items with me when I was dreaming. I did it anyway. I had nothing to lose. I spent the rest of the time playing the game. It couldn't hurt to remember the details just a little bit better...

The next dizzy spell hit me at home. I was thankful. I had just enough time to flop onto my bed, and hope for a couple of seconds that my stuff would come with me. And then the blackness swallowed me.

********

When I became aware again, I was in the woods. Somewhere. There was dim light, but I wasn't sure if it was dawn or dusk. I had no idea which way I was facing, and no way to identify which woods I was in. I listened carefully, hearing only the soft noises of birds and other small animals, and wind through the trees. I did a quick personal inventory, shouting for joy when I found my feet in heavy boots, my own clothes, and all the treasures in my pockets. My body had changed, like it had the last time, but somehow my dream clothes still fit my vastly different shape. I thought about that for a few minutes, but then shrugged, recognising that I was going to drive myself mad if I thought about it too hard. I pulled out the tiny compact, wondering what my face looked like in this new body. I looked similar, I decided, though not quite the same as I looked at home. This was almost...like a prettier version of me. My nose was a bit smaller, my cheekbones a bit higher, my eyes a bit greener. I liked it, though it felt weird to think of myself as pretty. My hair was about the same, dark brown, long, and bone straight. Suddenly curious, I put a hand up to my own ear. Round. I'm not an elf, clearly. Huh. I put the compact away.

I noticed that it was getting lighter, so decided it must be dawn. As the sun rose, I realised that it wasn't as bright as it should have been, due to a thick layer of mist as far as I could see. The air smelled damp, with a slight hint of rot. I decided to assume I was in the Korcari Wilds. I recalled someone - was it Daveth? Or maybe it was Maric, in the books - talking about how the mist never dissipated in the Korcari Wilds. Using the compass in my pocket, I turned to face north and headed in that direction. My hair was loose, so I tied it back with the string in my pockets, and pulled out a piece of chalk. As I walked, I marked a tree with chalk every so often, just in case the compass somehow didn't work. I found myself a sturdy walking stick, and felt very slightly better. Not that I had a solid idea of where I was going, but doing something was better than doing nothing. I noted, again with some delight, that this body was much better designed for travel than was my own. I was able to keep a brisk pace, even with having to scramble through the woods at times, without wearing myself out too much. As I walked, I tried looking for familiar landmarks from the Korcari Wilds in the game, but wasn't able to fully convince myself of anything. Pixels don't exactly give you the true picture of a place. So I walked. And hoped, fervently, not to run into any darkspawn. Or wolves. Or anything else that wanted to eat me.

I looked for water as I walked, but found nothing I would even consider trying to drink; it was all muddy puddles and greenish-tinged muck. I supposed it wasn't that bad a thing - going to the bathroom in the woods wasn't something I was finding enjoyable. Leaves are far inferior to toilet paper, and I had taken to drip-drying whenever possible. Ick.

Eventually I stumbled on a clearing, obviously the scene of a recent battle. The stench was vile, and as I scanned the area I found several darkspawn corpses, left where they'd been killed. Many of them had obvious knife or sword wounds, a few with arrows protruding. I scavenged a sword, which was heavier than it looked, but somehow I felt better for being armed. Not that I had any idea how to swing a sword. I recalled hearing somewhere that you shouldn't carry a gun unless you were quite proficient in how to use it, lest it be used against you. I hoped that the same could not be said for a sword. I carried on, more convinced than ever that this was the Korcari Wilds. Unless this was much later in the Blight than I hoped, it should be the only place with darkspawn, and I thought I knew who might have been tromping through these woods killing them off with swords not too long ago, too.

Oh God, Ostagar. It all came rushing back, and suddenly I realised I needed to bloody well hurry. If I was going to assume that this was real, and not a dream, and I wanted to change the outcome in some way, I needed to get to Ostagar before the battle, and hope to hell I could find some way to convince Duncan, or Cailan, or someone, to change the battle plan before everyone was, well, dead. Even if it was a dream, a happier ending would perhaps decrease the chances of me waking up screaming. Right. Walk faster, Sierra.

I was able to advance more quickly, finding that I could follow a trail of darkspawn corpses. The smell was so rank, much worse than normal decay, that I had no trouble finding the site of the next skirmish, and the next. I was following the trail the wardens had taken through the Wilds. I hoped it would lead me to Ostagar, not to Flemeth. Ugh, Flemeth. I shook my head and kept walking. Even Flemeth would be better than stumbling blind - perhaps I could convince her to help. I thought about that for a moment. Or perhaps not.

I was headed uphill, as well as north, and that seemed right, from what I could remember. I actually found the place where the group of warden recruits would have come across a dying soldier, recognising it by the number of mangled, obviously human remains. Feeling slightly sick, I continued north, knowing I had to be close to Ostagar. I finally glimpsed the wall of pikes I recalled passing through in the game, and knew I had found my destination.

Ostagar was much larger than it appeared in game. I supposed that shouldn't have been a surprise. How much walking around, just to get from one tent to the next, do you really want to do in a computer game? The ruin was enormous, and I found myself wondering exactly how many men had camped here.

The gate wasn't guarded. That was the first thing that worried me. I was quite sure that, prior to the battle, there were guards. Not good.

I crept through the gate, looking around warily. There were a few people around, but none of them looked like soldiers. Most were rushing around, and none seemed to notice me. I decided to approach the first elf I found, hoping that they'd be less likely to question my clothes, more likely to help. I felt guilty for that, but knew that any humans I ran into were likely to demand that I tell them who I was, and how I'd gotten there, whereas an elven servant might just let it pass since I was a human. I wandered through the camp, gawking at the ruins. I'd never really travelled far from home, never seen ancient ruins, and the scale of the buildings that once must have stood here was staggering.

I finally managed to identify an elf, rushing through the camp. She was a tiny thing, a good 6 inches shorter than I (not that I was completely sure how tall this body was), with dark hair. I tried not to stare at her delicate, pointed ears - I was prepared for them, I had thought, but the reality was a bit more than I expected. I thought they were quite beautiful, actually, but dragged my gaze off them to look the nervous young woman in the eye.

"Excuse me. Could you answer a question for me, please?"

She jumped, quickly averting her eyes, her fair skin blushing slightly. She stared briefly at my sword, then looked away. She nodded, but did not answer.

"Where is the army? The Grey Wardens?"

She looked up in surprise, then, but glanced away again quickly. "They've gone to fight, my lady."

I swore under my breath. "How long ago did they march?"

The confused expression became more noticeable, but she answered me. "Two hours ago. Or so. My lady." She dared to look in my eyes for a moment. "Is my lady...feeling quite alright?"

"Sierra. Please...just call me Sierra. I am...no. Not alright, really. Look. I need to find the army. I need to catch up to the King. I need a few supplies, first. Can you help me? Please? It's very important."

"What do you need, my lady?" I grimaced. "Beg pardon. Sierra." I smiled.

"I need a waterskin. Some food. Non-perishable. Maybe some rope, and a dagger. And something to carry it in. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, my...Sierra. Right away." I tried to look reassuring. She smiled, just slightly, and led me towards a large tent, standing empty. She grabbed a large waterskin, checking to see if I wanted it full - I nodded, and she slipped it into a cloth bag. She picked up a handful of paper-wrapped parcels, food I assumed, and added them as well. I had found a weapon rack on the back wall, and chose myself a wickedly sharp dagger in a sheath. I grabbed some leather straps, and tied the sheath to my thigh. Somehow, I suddenly felt very Lara Croft. I almost giggled out loud, stifling it before the poor woman helping me had to wonder further about my sanity. I turned, just as she was stuffing a length of rope into the pack.

"My...Sierra. I don't mean to be impertinent, but...are you going to pay for these things?" I blinked, not even thinking that this was likely the quartermaster's tent, and of course, the supplies weren't free. Stupid. I had nothing to pay with, and if I took these things, even if by force, I knew this poor woman would think she would lose her job, if not worse. Of course, I knew the quartermaster wasn't going to be back, but...oh, inspiration.

"I'm a Grey Warden. Can you add up the total, please, and I'll just sign for it on Duncan's bill?" She nodded, obviously relieved. I scrawled my name, with a quill of all things, getting ink all over my sleeve. I tried to pretend I hadn't noticed. I'm sure I failed. I took the pack from her, slinging it inexpertly across my shoulder.