AN: I feel like it's a bit slow, but I'm also afraid that I might accident rush the story. Oh well. Tell me what you guys think...

Chapter Two: Real Words

As much as I hated running, I was grateful for it. The sharp pain bolting up my shins and lack of oxygen burning my throat meant a second chance. It meant that it wasn't over, that I could do more to save someone whether they were my teammate or an innocent. Running also meant options were limited, it indicated a time of desperation. In war those times came often. Each time you're never really prepared to make that last desperate choice. I was well aware that this was a nightmare, but I still ran anyway. It was not real, but it use to be real. The child's body was limp and cold against my arms, and in my mind I was screaming over and over again that he was dead. There was no point in running, no point in holding onto to him. Back when this was real and not a terror filled dream I hadn't known. Hadn't known he had been dead from the moment I picked him up.

"So desperate to save him, to save anything in that wasteful war. There had to be a purpose for all the death and loss, and in the end I died for nothing."

A voice that wasn't mine echoed through my dream. Suddenly there was no boy, no bullets, no tears down my face. It was just me standing in front a man with a wide brimmed hat and blond hair that covered his eyes. Who was he? He says nothing for what feels like hours. Maybe it had been hours, but nothing was ever sure in here. That's why I didn't ask who he was for whatever answer he gave I was sure it would be cryptic and vague. All I wanted to do was wake up.

"You are tangled in your hurt. You already realize this, but you keep yourself bound to pain. Why?" The man – maybe boy – talks with sympathy with no judgement and no pity and I'm unable to feel angry or irritated.

"I'm sure you know the answer already. You are what I created in my mind, in my dream." It was rude to say so dismissively even if this was just a twisted imagination of my subconscious.

"Yes and no. We are in your dream, but not a dream. The fade takes the same shapes as those in your mind, but I am not in your mind. You are here, but somewhere else."

Yes cryptic like I thought he would be. "That makes no sense – wait. What do mean by the fade?"

"Here is not real, but everything is real. You think you are dead, but you are only dead there. You live. You are real."

There was no dramatic transition back to the waking world. No sweat or abrupt sit up instead my eyes opened cautiously, afraid if I woke up too fast that I would forget my dream. Did dead people dream? Was that a dream within a dream? I sat there calmly going my thoughts, double checking my memory to make sure that I heard what he said correctly. The man in the hat, he looked so familiar but I couldn't place it. And when he mentioned the "Fade" I knew exactly what he was talking about. A spirit world.

There was soft knock on the door and Flissa skipped inside, placing a tray of food and water on my lap. It dawned upon me that she also seemed familiar, her face and her name making the back of my mind itch. "I was going to wake you earlier but after that ordeal yesterday I'm sure you needed the extra." She smiled widely and momentarily her cheerful energy distracted me. "Come now, finish your breakfast and wash your face. We leave in a couple hours!"

By the time I finished my meal, Flissa had already floated out the room saying something about getting the cart ready. I noticed a bowl of water and a towel in front of a mirror that hadn't been there yesterday. Approaching hesitantly, nervous at seeing myself for the first time since discovering the elf ears, I stepped in front of my reflection. On the count of three I peeked into the mirror and jumped back in surprise. The color of my hair, originally black, had changed to light grey almost like a mixture of ash and silver. Icy light azure eyes that use to be dark brown looked back at from the mirror and seemed even bright against the contrast of tan skin. Waving back at my reflection I tried to confirm that it really was me. Surprisingly the thing that had shocked me the worst was not the sudden color changes or even the ears, but the lack of battle my face and skin bore. It had been years since I last saw myself not covered in scars of all sizes and caked with dirt, years since I looked…rested.

The door opened and I swiftly turned around, my body tensing in the anticipation of danger. "I'm about ready if…" The smile that drops from her face reminds me that there is no fight coming and I immediately regret ruining her mood.

"Hsarry." Sorry. I offer an apologetic smile and fold my shaking hands behind my back.

Flissa regains her composure and approaches me gently, speaking in a softer voice probably afraid to spook me again. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you ready to leave for Haven?"

Flissa filled most of the trip with excited chatter about anything and everything. The bubbly red-head had been travelling on her way to Haven and stopped in the little no name village she found me in to refill on supplies. She boasted about managing a small inn in the capital of Ferelden, Denerim. A woman she occasionally helped out had offered her a chance to have her own Tavern. The woman was Leliana…of the Inquisition. At the mention of the word, my memory came slamming back at me. Flissa continued to go on, but it became nothing but a buzz to me as I tried to sort out my new revelation.

Everything was sounding exactly like a game I use to obsess over during my youth, learning all the little details and the stories of the characters. It didn't make sense that the afterlife would be in a form of video game unless it was connected to my desire to escape somewhere magical and beautiful. Maybe fate choose this place because it was familiar, so it can ease me with kinder memories of my past. There was the possibility I wasn't dead and this was just another dream while I was still laying on the ground bleeding. There could also be the chance of insanity, that I never really died and finally gone insane from the stress and loneliness of war. I tried to remember what that guy in the hat had told me. No, what COLE had told me. He said, "Here is not real, but everything is real. You think you are dead, but you are only dead there. You live. You are real."

"Here is not real," I mumbled out loud forgetting every word was just a jumble of sounds to someone else's ears. "…but everything is real…you live. You are real." He said this is real. Is that even possible?

"I don't understand what you're saying, but you seem upset. Is there something wrong?" She frowned in concerned and I shook my head. The rest of the ride was quiet after that partly because there was nothing I wanted to say, nothing I could say really. As for woman across from me, it was obvious she was starting to feel awkward having a one sided conversation, similar to talking to a pet for hours with it only tilted its head and wagging its tail in response.

On the night of our third day, only one day away from Haven, bandits raided our campsite. The sound of soft distant footstep had me awake and grasping for a weapon within seconds. Unfortunately we had no decent weapons, but I made due with a rock twice the size of my hand. I managed to dodge several arrows, knock him out and steal a sword from a second opponent by the time Flissa and our wagon driver came out their tents. They screamed and scrambled to get away, but five more emerged from the shadows.

Steadying my breathing, I assessed the situation in my head. There were five able opponents, another two that were unconscious and injured. Most had swords and axes so we were safe from a long range attack unless they had a mage with them, though it seemed unlikely. Our route of escape was narrowing down by the minute as they circle us. Faking a show of defense I raise my arm high enough to block the view of mouth and lean over to whisper to Flissa behind me. "Listen carefully, we don't have much time. I need your utmost trust. The wagon is about ten feet away from the men to my right. I need you two to run as fast you can to it and take off. Do. Not. Look. Back." She looks wide eyed at me as if to say 'What about them? What about you?' "Trust me."

Time was up and I exploded into action, putting all my energy in disposing the two men closest to the wagon while two sprinted through. The steel sword felt heavy and unbalanced, and my fingers itched for a gun but I adjusted quickly enough as it sliced into the bandits. To my relief, I heard the sound of the wagon growing fainter. The rhythm of battle was familiar, easy to fall back into and I danced circles around them, dodging smoothly and hitting pressure points through exposed openings of their armor. One man charged with a heavy battle axe and I used his weight against him, kicked out one of his knees and sliced his head off. Two immediate threats left.

"Very impressive elf," I tensed as a tall, regal looking man stepped into view. By the looks of the bandit's faces they had no clue who he was either. He slow clapped making the sleeves of the fine robe slip and expose strange marking on his wrists. "You just took out five armed men with nothing but a rock and a sword. And if I were to make an obvious guess, this was your first time ever to pick one up and yet you came out unscathed."

"Who the hell are you?" One of them spits out. The mysterious man doesn't even blink as he calmly rolls his hands palm up and sets them aflame. I barely registered their screams before a white light blinded me. Right as my body collapsed from a sudden feel of exhaustion and pain, I feel thumb caress my cheek and him whisper, "You'll be an excellent addition to my collection."