Said as though the men who came after me would care. To fools like them, I was a threat no matter how old. I believe the term is "self-fulfilled prophecy?"

[The crow caws. Well, she did warn him...

"'Tis a wonder he has not appeared before us," the child Morrigan continues. "Given how freely you invoke Him." The vines are securely wrapped around the templar's feet and legs, now -- pinning him in place. If Keith looks, he'll see a few bodies hanging from the trees and a couple skulls not yet buried in the mud. "But this is no Chantry, and I am no meek Circle mage to be ordered about."
The vines are encompassing him entirely, penetrating him as they crush the helmet over his head.
"You have trespassed here, but all is not lost." Vines jut out of the zealot's eyes, nose and mouth. "This wood will make use of you."
And just like that, it is over. The ice cracks and turns to dust, leaving the second dead fallen to the swamp floor.
"My black brier, my maid of thorns!" Flemeth sounds so, very proud. Morrigan smiles, but the crow stares at the small family of two before shifting back into her true form and looking at the sight with the strangest look of pride, disgust, and not quite grief, but... sadness.]

'Tis a shame... Had we arrived earlier, I would have spared doubter. We always spared the ones who refused to sully their blades with innocent blood.

["I have pleased you, then. 'Tis a wonder! I shall mark the day."
"Aha! Even her tongue has a barb." Flemeth holds her close.
"Am I not your daughter?" Morrigan asks.

The real Morrigan flinches, and as Flemeth's voice continues, everything fades to black. "Never more so than now. You are a perfect creature, and perfect for my purpose."]

If only I knew what those words had meant.