[b]Kingdom of Ferelden: Woodsmen Outpost[/b]

For Wystellia, the span of time she spent awake, while outweighing her times spent dreaming, was astonishingly unknown. For someone connected to the Fade and its endless pathways and crevices, the mage wasn't sure how long she had been in recovery mode. Her body had been struggling to not only heal the physical but also the emotional wounds she endured while in the hopeless battle at Ostagar. When she finally felt well enough to stand and survey her own body, she found herself relieved to see no injuries. The bruising, cuts, gashes and broken limbs had been repaired, mostly by her own skills. When she was conscious, she recalled herself healing as much as she could before she grew tired and fell back into a state of abyss where suffering was only known to the unfortunate souls.

Upon stepping outside, she was greeted by timid daylight and deduced that it was early morning.

Even with the sun back by her side, Wystellia wasn't sure if she felt hope within it. Shaking her head, someone quickly approached her and saw how miracles it was that she was alive and walking after just two days of finding her way to their little village. Wystellia confessed that she owed her survival to her magical blood and said that she hoped no trouble had followed her to the outpost. The woman with thin jaw bones and grey hair shook her head and said the Maker willed not just one, but two Grey Wardens to survive and do their duty. Much to Wystellia's surprise, the woman wasn't mad, and was actually telling the truth of how another, older, man had also came from the very same bloody display of disloyalty and shock. 

"I'd like to see him as soon as he's well enough to speak." Wystellia asked the old woman. To the mage, she knew an ally was better than going it alone. But he would be of no use until he could speak and then walk. The dark haired woman turned and returned to the cabin from where she had originated from, with the old woman following behind her. Once back inside, Wystellia sat down on the bed and rubbed her face, trying to piece back together more of the night that remained in fragments. She remembered how she felt and she also remembered the things she saw but it was still a very muddled picture running through her head.

Had Loghain truly betrayed the King and Duncan?

Her dry lips pressed together and she looked to the fire in the brick fireplace and got up to get her staff which rested against the wall. Once it was back in her hand, she flicked it to the fireplace and the embers came to life again, giving the room a much warm feeling. Was it hope? There was another one of her kind and she was sure that hope could be found if she looked hard enough. Still, the facts themselves couldn't be ignored and she hoped that with his account, things would become clear, regardless of the unwanted truth. Wystellia was then given a clay pot and inside was a bed of rice and atop that, some bits of meat and root vegetables. "Thank you." She smiled to the woman who then left her alone to eat. She sat back down and placed her weapon behind her on the bed, the light from the fire almost making it glow like a holy artifact blessed by the Maker.

Once she finished eating, she felt more strength returning to her bones and she got up, and went back outside. A few burly men were walking through the village, carrying equipment on their backs and shoulders. "Would you like any help?" She asked, wanting to repay them for the meal and safety they selflessly provided for her and her unknown companion. They gruffly declined and said her help was worth more elsewhere. Then one of the men pointed to another small cabin and said to go talk to her friend. Wystellia gave an understanding nod and walked over, staff in hand. Giving a double knock, she stepped back and found herself filled with anxiety. 

A survivor. Like herself. Who could it be?

When she was told to come in, she did just that and turned to close the door behind her. When she turned around, she needed a few moments before she put a name to his face. "...Julien..." She internally gave her brain a thankful stroke and stepped forward and gave his own dwindling fireplace a burst so more light could fill the room. With the day ahead of them, she knew the fire wouldn't be needed soon. "I'm so glad I'm not alone." She found herself saying first. Neither of them knew of the lies Loghain was already spreading, as well as troops being sent out to deal with any survivors such as themselves. "Do you need any further healing?" She then asked, a question her lips were very used to presenting to people she met on her travels. Even so, it sounded different...for some reason.

She approached his bedside and crouched by his side, looking at him carefully, her pointed ears twitching slightly under her sleek hair. "I can't erase what either of us saw..." She swallowed. "But something has to be done about what Loghain did to us, did to King Cailan...and Duncan." But they were Grey Warden, not people who got hung up in revenge. "I know it isn't our place but with the Blight upon us, our nation cannot unravel and remain divided." She quickly said to him. "As much as we want to think the betrayal has nothing to with us as Grey Wardens, it does." Wystellia said firmly. "With more Darkspawns being sighted all over the place, we need to unite if we're going to survive it, we can't waste time fighting one another."