The Halla's Gift

Wallem woke early. He turned over and gazed at his sleeping wife. Maere slept with her mouth hanging open and there were some nights that she'd grunt and snort all the way through to dawn. Wallem grazed her soft cheek with his rough fingers. She stirred and one hand came up to rub her nose.

Wallem turned over and slipped out of bed. His long hair fell forward into his eyes. The day hadn't begun and shadows lay thick over the house. Wallem stood and stretched. He padded over to the privy and relieved himself. The loud clang of his piss hitting the pot.

Wallem winced. Maere's dark outline turned over in bed.

The boy was spread across his piece of the swept floor, limbs splayed, wrapped in the sheepskin. The dog was curled up beside him. Korth yawned, displaying a set of sharp teeth. He stood and his strong tail thumped against the ground.

Wallem rubbed his son's small chest. The chickens clucked and rustled in their perches set along the wall. Wallem washed his face and hands. He crept over to the door. The stone grated against the wood.

Wallem stepped into the cool light of the moon. His homestead was nestled amongst the green roots of the Frostback Mountains. His fields, fallow and bare. His home, thatched roof, that would need to be relaid before the Winter came on properly, the stone base that was laid by Wallem's grandfather. Mud Brick walls, cracked and more than a few missing.

There was never enough time.

The stable that he and his brother had put up together two summers ago. Before that he'd had Bes in the house with them come winter. Now she had her own space.

Wallem rubbed his arms. Korth trotted over to him and Wallem scratched the dog's ears. The big Mabari sat and gazed at his master.

Wallem knelt on the cold ground. The air stung his throat.

"Andraste, keep my family safe from harm. Keep my fields green. My animals well. We serve only you."

"Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.
In their blood the Maker's will is written."

Wallem stood. He turned and was not surprised to find Maere leaning against the doorway.

"When are you leaving?" She asked.

Wallem grasped her shoulders. "First light."

Maere's dark eyes were drawn to the imposing peaks of the Frostbacks that loomed over them.

"To march into the Frostbacks in winter?"

"It isn't winter yet. And we'll be back before then."

Maere traced Wallem's scar. He closed his eyes as her nails ran along the old wound that marked his face.

"Make sure you come back." She said finally.

Wallem opened his eyes and smiled. "I always do."

Wallem rubbed Bes' nose. The mare snorted and tossed her head. Wallem slipped his coat on over his chainmail. He buckled his belt, his scabbard knocked against his leg.

Maere held their boy, Cailan in her arms. Wallem hugged them both to him. He kissed their foreheads.

"I'll bring you back an Avvar feather." Wallem told his son.

"Can they really turn into birds?" Cailan asked, his eyes wide.

Wallem grinned. "No. They're just savages."

"Andraste guard you." Maere ran a hand through her husband's hair. "I should have cut it before you left."

Wallem shook the mane out of his eyes. "I'm not some prissy Orlesian lord." He said. He gave Bes' harness a firm tug and then checked the saddle. He tightened the straps. He slipped onto her back easily. The mare struggled against Wallem, for she was not used to bearing him after the long summer.

Wallem gazed at his little family stood together.

Maere passed him his rucksack. "I've put the little wooden soldier for my brother's boy."

"I'll give it to him."

"And my love."

Wallem smiled. "Look after our land." He told his young son. "Listen to your mother and remember the Chant."

"Yes pa."

Wallem ran a hand along Bes' strong neck. He gave her a kick and she trotted forward. Korth raced along beside her. Before them; the Frostback Mountains. Behind them; home.

Wallem dozed in the saddle. Bes knew the way and she followed the rough track that meandered along the edge of the Frostbacks. The dark peaks of that famous mountain range were wreathed in black clouds. A storm was on its way down the slopes.

Korth ran ahead and barked furiously. Wallem's head snapped up and he gripped the hilt of his sword. Korth was vanished around a bend in the path, hidden behind a copse of trees. Wallem swung his wooden shield, banded with iron, off his back. He kicked Bes into a trot.

He found Korth enthusiastically sniffing at a body that lay splayed across a fallen tree trunk. Wallem drew his sword and squinted into the distance. Tall trees lined the ridge of the meadow. The grasses were yellowed and could hide all manner of things. Wallem frowned.

"There." He told his dog and pointed towards the trees. Korth bounded away. The big mabari scouted the way to the trees and then doubled back, searching through the field. He barked once and Wallem dismounted. The elf was dead. Her tattooed face marked her for one of the Dalish. And the dull yellow of her skin told Wallem she was dead for a few days at least. The sickly sweet smell of rot had set in and ants swarmed across her features. She was alone but Bes didn't own all the hoofprints made in the dirt.

Chased down.

She was torn at the middle. A spear, Wallem thought. Taken back by its owner.

Wallem stood. Nothing that could be done for the elf now.

Korth nuzzled his wet nose against Wallem's cheek. "Come on. She's done."

The dog walked back to the road.

Wallem mounted Bes.

He was in Three Trees before long. The village was clustered around the Chantry, a simple brick building barely taller than the cottages that surrounded it. The land was a beautiful patchwork of mismatched fields. It was a land long tamed and the forests were long cleared. Come Market Day, the village was swelled with people, travellers, farmers, merchants, storytellers and strangers. Today was no market day and Wallem was the only person making his way towards the single tavern. He passed Old Jock, skinning a rabbit beside the road. He'd hung the animal from a tree branch. Behind him a flock of sheep roamed the meadow. A boy sat beside Jock and carved a piece of wood with his little knife.

"Jock." Wallem called. The old man turned and smiled.

"Wallem Scotson. Haven't seen you in a time."

"Just passing through." Wallem brought Bes up. "Who's this lad?"

"My own son's boy." Jock said and knocked the boy across his head. "He should be watching those sheep. His pa's taken by the Bann. Fighting Avvars. Imagine you're on your way too?"

"Aye." Wallem said.

"Boy, where're your manners?" Jock demanded.

The child stood and bowed. "Andraste with you Lord."

"No lord." Wallem shook his head. "Just a freeman like you."

"Except with your own land." Jock added.

Wallem smiled vaguely. "I saw a Dalish Elf on my way here. Dead on the road."

Jock nodded. "Aye. Got a few of them knife-ears." He grinned and ducked his head. "Get to Isalda's inn and you'll hear the story. But there'll be a surprise for you."

Wallem frowned. "What's that?"

"Templars!" The boy shouted excitedly.

"Shush!" Jock hissed. He turned back to Wallem. "Aye. Templars, here. Just passing through but they said they'd help us with the Dalish. Rounded 'em up easy as you like. None of 'em took the Maker. They was all burned by the Chantry."

"Why?" Wallem asked.

Jock looked bemused. "Why what?"

"Why kill them? Were they raiding? Killing animals?"

Jock puffed himself up. "They woulda, if they'd had the chance. But they used their magic on poor Krest. Hounded him day and night, magicked themselves into cats. He had 'em yowling outside his house from sundown."

Wallem's frown deepened. "How'd he know they were Dalish?"

Jock nodded sagely. "They showed up at the same time in their funny wagons. And Krest surprised 'em one night. Took to the animals with a stick and caught one on the leg. And sure enough, the next day Isalda saw one of them Dalish limping." Jock's grandson gasped. "Told the Templars and they agreed. Elf magic."

Wallem didn't trust himself to speak. He nodded curtly and urged Bes away.

"Get to the inn!" Jock called. "Rare enough to see real Templars!"

Wallem had no desire to spend another moment in Three Trees. His hands shook with rage. If he'd have been here . . . If he'd have been here, he would have watched it and done nothing.

Nothing to be done.

Wallem sighed. He wasn't going to be staying in that inn though. With those damned Templars treated like heroes for killing a bunch of Dalish.

Wallem planned to ride until he reached The Fork and then sleep under the cover of the old ruined fortress there. He kicked Bes to a canter as he passed through the village. Children chased the horse, laughing together and a few familiar faces called out but Wallem kept riding. He was going to pray in the Chantry but he saw the pyre now, still smoking and decided against it.

He was brought up by a man in full plate armour who walked out right in front of Wallem's horse. Bes reared and Wallem grabbed desperately at her neck. He slid backwards but didn't fall.

"What are you doing, want to get yourself killed?" Wallem roared without thinking. The Templar turned to face him.

"What did you say to me?" He demanded, his voice muffled behind his helm.

Korth growled low.

"Pardon, Lord." Wallem adjusted himself. "I didn't see you."

"Watch how you speak, Freeman." The Templar rested one gloved hand on his sword hilt. "You'll find yourself in the gibbet.'"

"Apologies." Wallem bowed.

"What's the fuss, Dannell?" Another Templar walked from the little stabling area that served the inn. One of Isalda's servants, carrying a brush and a sloshing bucket, slipped past the man.

"This freeman doesn't know how to ride." Dannell removed his helmet. He sported an impressive beard. "I have half a mind to take his horse."

"Leave him be." The other man was naked to the waist and must have been helping the boy clean the horses. "He's a soldier."

Dannell raised his eyebrows and looked at Wallem with something approaching caution. "Ah. Whose man are you?"

"I fight for the Bann." Wallem said. "Bann Semon of the Pass."

Dannell smirked. "That half an Avvar? On your way then."

Wallem stiffened. He would be dishonoured if he didn't defend his Bann's good name. Dannell's smirk widened. "Something to say to me now?"

The other Templar stood between them. "Friend, go in Andraste's Grace. I apologise for my brother."

Wallem nodded jerkily and guided Bes past them.

"We are sworn to the Templar Order, Dannell." Wallem heard the man start raging. "We are the righteous sword of Andraste Herself."

"He almost killed me!" Dannell retorted. "These highlanders need to learn respect."

"That's not your place."

The two men argued until Wallem turned past Mandy's Smithy and the old woman's fierce singing drowned them out.

Korth jogged beside him.

The pounding in his ears didn't ease until Three Trees was far behind him.

Wallem bid farewell to the dwarfs at the Fork. The bearded, burly fellows were heading into the mountains. Wallem had another day's riding ahead of him before he himself turned towards those peaks.

Wallem was sad to see their backs. Their wagons were pulled by those huge, hulking brontos and bore fine vellum bound for Ozrammar's Shaperate. Wallem didn't know what a Shaperate was or why it might need paper, he never learned to read anyway but he had enjoyed company on the road. Dwarves were a solemn lot, with deep frowns and little laughter. They knew how to carry a tune though. Wallem had almost wept and had hidden his face at one slow, mournful melody the dwarves had called Lament for Aeducan. Though he didn't understand the words, the dwarves had sung with such fierce sadness that Wallem hadn't wanted to ask them the meaning of the song.

He sat down before the flames and stretched. The road was hidden behind night's curtain and the fire ensconced Wallem, Korth and Bes in a narrow sphere. They made camp in the ancient ruin, the tower was open to the sky and the trees had reclaimed it. One enterprising oak pushed its way through the stones and rent the wall. Bes was tied to one of its branches and Korth lay beside the fire. Wallem chewed the dried meat Maere had given him. His chainmail was draped over a branch. He rolled his coat up, good leather and set himself up on the ground as comfortably as he might.

"Been awhile, huh Korth." Wallem said. "Sleeping in the open."

The dog grunted.

Wallem gazed at the sky. Stars blanketed the night.

"Don't sleep too deeply Korth." Wallem yawned. "I don't want to wake up to a red lion dragging me back into the mountains."

Korth didn't reply.

Wallem smiled. He closed his eyes.

A rustling. Wallem leapt up. The fire was a dull glow in the darkness. The faint tinge of orange lit the topmost branches of the trees. Dawn was coming. Wallem rubbed his face quickly.

Korth was sat on his haunches and stared at a point behind Wallem.

He spun around.

A pure white deer gazed at him. Wallem thought that he was in a dream. Her shining antlers were twisted into a spiral pattern. She hopped about on slender legs and blinked one large brown eye.

Wallem stared at the animal. She trod daintily closer to the fire and sniffed the air.

"A halla." Wallem whispered. He looked to her antlers. They were worth more than gold in Caraed's Fall.

"Korth." Wallem whispered. The dog looked at him. "Attack."

The mabari whined. The halla jerked her head up.

"Go." Wallem hissed.

Korth lay his head on the ground and whined. Wallem, his eyes fixed on the halla, searched the ground blindly for a rock. If he could stun her.

The halla gazed at him and Wallem recoiled slightly and he couldn't say why. He felt a moment of great shame.

And then she was gone. She leapt into the trees.

"Korth!" Wallem shouted and scrambled to his feet. He tore after her. Korth raced alongside him, barking. Wallem dodged the trees and crashed through vines and brush. He was soon scratched over and only now realised he didn't have his sword. He splashed into a stream and spun on the spot. Korth almost knocked him over and bounded up the ridge.

Wallem followed. He gave a whoop. "That's more like it!" He yelled.

Korth barked and leapt easily over an ancient, mossy statue on its side. Korth stopped and Wallem tripped over the stone head. He landed hard on his side.

There she was. Standing still, framed by the trees. She was beautiful.

Wallem grabbed at a rock. He stood slowly and brought his hand back.

"DON'T!"

Wallem dropped the rock and scrambled backwards. A little boy stood beside the fallen statue with his fists clenched at his sides. He glared at Wallem fiercely. He was an elf.

Something landed on Wallem's back and he felt a sharp pain in his neck. Wallem hurled the creature off him. A girl, clutching a bone pin in her hand. Korth barked madly and rushed at her.

"Wait!" Wallem shouted. Korth skidded to a halt. The girl scrambled back to the boy. She shielded him and brandished her pin as though it were a sword.

"Ar tu na'din." The girl hissed.

Wallem had seen what they guarded. A Dalish woman leant against the statue. Her eyes were closed, and the hair brushed back from her face. Her arms were by her sides, as though two children had cradled in her limp embrace. She was dead. Blood stained her stomach. He was sure one of these children had closed her eyes for her.

"Wait." Wallem said again. He swiped at his neck. Blood in his hand.

"Do you speak Ferelden?" Wallem asked them.

The boy nodded.

The girl hissed and gestured with her pin.

"I don't want to hurt you." Wallem knelt down. He glanced at the halla, now grazing at the vines that coated a tree. "Or the deer."

"Go!" The girl growled. She was older than the boy by a few years.

"Are you alone here?" Wallem asked them.

The boy nodded again.

"Mamae." He took the woman's hand.

Wallem nodded and wiped his brow. "Alright."

"Leave us alone!" The girl shrieked.

Wallem's mind raced. "Where are the rest of you?"

The boy shook his head.

Wallem winced. His neck pained him fully now. The boy skirted his sister.

"Aralan!" The girl grabbed at him but Aralan shook her off. Korth growled but the boy offered Wallem a wad of green leaves. "Eat." He said. "For the pain."

Wallem took it. "Thank you."

Aralan smiled and returned to his sister.

Wallem gazed at the children. "How long have you been out here?"

"We don't need your help human!" The girl shouted.

Wallem looked to Korth. The dog wagged his tail uncertainly.

"I have food." Wallem said finally. "I can help you. I know elves in Caraed's Fall."

The boy tugged at his sister's blouse. They were both dressed simply, greys and greens.

"I'm hungry Siyana."

His sister hesitated.

"I'm not here to hurt you." Wallem raised his arms. "I just want to help."

It was an awkward circle they made around the fire. Aralan ate the simple soup greedily but Siyana sat with her arms wrapped around her legs and her huge Elvish eyes darting around the ruin. The halla followed them back and stood beside Bes, who skittered about nervously.

Korth sat beside Aralan and drooled.

"Your names are Siyana and Aralan?" Wallem asked them.

"We need to bury our mother." Siyana said.

"Yes, of course." Wallem nodded. "I will help you."

"No." Siyana bit the word. "It is not your place."

Wallem sighed. He remembered that the elf had suffered. "My name is Wallem."

Aralan smiled.

"Who killed our Clan?" Siyana demanded.

Wallem shook his head. "I don't know. I'm sorry." He lied. "Are there any other Dalish clans around here, that you know of?"

Siyana shook her head. Aralan drained Wallem's bowl.

"More?" Wallem asked him. The boy nodded happily.

"Ma serannas." He said.

Wallem nodded and stood. He spooned more broth into the bowl. "Listen, I don't know what's best for you but there are elves in Caraed's Fall."

"What is that?" Siyana demanded.

"It is a town not far from here. Further into the mountains. I'm going there anyway. I could take you. I know an elf in town. She's a good woman."

"A flat-ear?" Siyana curled her lip. "An elf that serves humans?"

Wallem clenched his fists. He pushed down his annoyance. "She's a servant, yes."

"I have heard of these elves. They don't worship the Gods, they don't follow Vir Tanadhal."

Wallem sighed. "I don't know what that means. You are alone out here and if you are found near the village, they'll kill you."

"We're not blind." Siyana said. "We know what humans do to us."

"Some humans." Wallem corrected her. "I'm sorry for your troubles but I'm trying to help you."

Aralan looked to his sister. "We should go with him, Siyana. It's dangerous here."

"The towns are dangerous." Siyana hissed. Wallem wondered why they didn't speak their own tongue.

"Andruil brought him to us." Aralan said loudly. He pointed at the halla.

Siyana frowned. Wallem thought how young she was.

Finally, she nodded.

Wallem smiled hesitantly. He realised a part of him had hoped she would refuse. "Good. We should leave soon."

Siyana stood and marched over to the oak that was slowly tearing down the ruined wall. She snapped a branch off and walked back into the forest without a word. Aralan leapt to his feet. "We must look to our mother." And he was gone.

Wallem sat down again. The sun shone weakly through churning clouds. There would be rain soon.

Wallem walked whilst the two children shared Bes. The halla bounded away ahead of them. Wallem had suggested the children ride the deer but that was apparently a very offensive idea to a Dalish. The girl had sworn at him, he was sure those words she muttered were curses. So he walked beside them. It wasn't long before Riyana was slumped forward on the horse, sleeping. Wallem imagined she hadn't had much rest the past days.

They'd returned from the forest dirt-stained and tear-stained. Aralan had still been sniffling when Wallem lifted him onto Bes. Siyana had insisted on clambering on herself.

Caraed's Fall was still a day's journey and that was on horseback. Wallem imagined he'd be walking for the next two days at least. The road was growing wider and steeper. They'd passed some traffic. A messenger on horseback had stared curiously. A trio of young pilgrims on their way to Gherlen's Path, shoulders straining against the weight of their packs, each of them carrying a wooden staff and each of them intoning the chant of light, too focused on their next steps to look up.

And they'd passed homesteads where children lined the hedges and gazed curiously at these two elves, led by a soldier. Wallem shifted in his armour, sweating.

He prayed they did not pass any Templars. There would be too many questions.

"How do you know this elf?" Aralan asked him now.

"She's an . . . old friend of my family." Wallem replied.

"And she is a city-elf?"

"She lives in a town, if that's what you mean." Wallem wondered why he had mixed himself up in this foolishness.

"The city-elves are like humans?" Aralan asked him.

"I don't think so." Wallem said. "They're not so much like you, maybe but they're not like humans either."

"We don't like them." Aralan said innocently.

"Have you ever met a city-elf?" Wallem asked.

Aralan shook his head.

"Then how do you know you don't like them?"

The elf thought about this. "I don't know." He said honestly. "That's what my mother told me."

"My mother told me that Dalish elves cook small children in big pots and sacrifice the bones to their dark gods." Wallem told him with a smile. "Is that true?"

"No!" Aralan was shocked.

"Then don't believe everything you are told about other people." Wallem said.

Aralan was silent for a time. He stared at an old thatched roof homestead that overlooked the road. Cattle ranged across the hills. A wooden palisade encircled the homestead, it was almost a fort. The man who owned it would be a wealthy man indeed. Behind the house, never conquered the Frostbacks climbed the sky.

"What was your mother like?" Aralan asked.

Wallem gazed at the ground. "She was a . . . good woman." He cleared his throat. "And your mother? She was strong?"

"She was." Aralan said proudly. "A great hunter, there was no one finer with a bow."

Wallem smiled. "She sounds fierce, like your sister."

Aralan laughed. "They fought all the time! Was your mother a warrior like you?"

Wallem shook his head. "No, she washed the clothes of wealthier people."

"A servant?"

"You might call her that."

Aralan seemed to realise he had delved too deep. "My mother walks with her halla now, with Falon'Din."

"And what is Falon'Din?" Wallem asked.

"The Guide to the Dead." Aralan replied.

Wallem nodded. They walked in thoughtful silence

"Why are you going to this town?" Aralan asked now.

"The Bann is gathering an army."

"To fight who?"

"The Avvars." Wallem said.

Aralan brightened. "I know that race! They are an honourable people. We trade with them in the mountains. They do not hate us like you do."

"They are savages who worship false gods." Wallem dismissed the boy.

"Have you ever met an Avvar?" Aralan asked slyly.

Wallem scoffed. "A mark to you, boy."

They crossed a simple wooden bridge, built beside the ancient Imperial stone crossing that had collapsed centuries ago. The country grew wilder again. Aralan slept against his sister and Wallem walked alone.

Wallem filled his leather skin at a quietly flowing stream and let Bes rest. The sun had barely reached its height but Wallem thought they made good time. The roiling clouds followed them but were yet to break.

Siyana drank from the stream. Her brother slept. Korth lay down beside the halla. He was fascinated by the strange animal.

"Your deer's name is Andruil?" Wallem asked the girl.

The elf blinked at him with her huge eyes. "No."

Wallem sighed. "I know you have little love for humans."

"I watched your kind murder my Clan and my mother." Siyana snapped. She stood and cast an arm imperiously over the stream. "This is all Elvhen land. Stolen from us by your people."

"There has been much evil done." Wallem said. "But the crimes of my ancestors are not mine!"

"You profit from those crimes." Siyana crossed her thin arms over her chest.

"You want me to give you my land?" Wallem laughed. "Have my family starve to death?"

"My people have starved." Siyana said.

Wallem shook his head.

"Andruil is the Great Hunter." Aralan was sitting up. He rubbed his eyes. "She protects the people."

"Aralan." Siyana warned him.

"Then Andruil is a goddess?" Wallem asked.

Aralan stuck his tongue out at his sister. "Yes." He said defiantly.

Wallem took a gulp of water. "We should rest here for a time. Bes is tired."

"You're bleeding." Aralan said. He pointed at Wallem's neck.

"Oh." Wallem scratched at the dried blood that reached his collarbone.

"Did you chew the leaves?" Aralan asked.

Wallem smiled. "I forgot."

"Chew them!" Aralan admonished him. "It will help you."

Wallem took the leaves from his sack and gingerly placed them into his mouth. He chewed for a moment and almost spat them out. "Dishgushtin!" He coughed.

Siyana laughed.

"Chew!" Aralan giggled.

These truths the Maker has revealed to me:
As there is but one world,
One life, one death, there is
But one god, and He is our Maker.
They are sinners, who have given their love
To false gods.

Wallem stood. He turned and found Aralan watching him. A few hundred yards separated them from Siyana, who rubbed Korth's belly.

"Were you praying?" Aralan asked.

"I was." Wallem walked with him back to their camp.

"Who is your god?"

"There is only one God. The Maker."

"I don't believe that." Aralan said and glanced at Wallem.

Wallem smiled. "Your honourable Avvar believe in many gods too. Gods of wind and sky and bears."

"I know!" Aralan said excitedly. "Korth the Mountain Father. And there was another one who is a huge bear, as big as a hill! When we trade with them, we share songs and stories."

Wallem ruffled the boy's hair. "Come on."

He didn't see Aralan's tender smile and the way he touched his head.

The rain caught them and the little group slept, huddled together under an overhang. Korth hated storms and he curled himself into a shivering ball on Wallem's lap. Siyana hugged Aralan to her. Wallem dozed fitfully but he kept a hand on his sword. Lightning dazzled the sky in fearsome bursts and the rain tore against the trees. Wallem thought of Maere and Cailan. But his dreams were of his mother.

Wallem skinned the hare whilst Siyana stirred the pot. Aralan added herbs and roots to the broth and Korth looked grumpy at having to share his kill.

The rain had pummelled the highlands. Fallen branches littered the road. Trees were swept into bizarre contortions. The grass smelled sweeter though and the sun warmed the land. The dark clouds vanished. Gentle wisps of white traced the sky.

Wallem only hoped the bridge had not been washed away or he'd have to walk down river for miles on the way back.

"Are you sure you don't want any of this?" Wallem asked again.

"No." Siyana said fiercely. "The hare is sacred to Andruil."

Aralan gazed at the hare longingly.

"Brother." Siyana warned him. "It is sacred."

"Andruil wouldn't want you to starve." Wallem said. "Is she not your protector?"

Siyana hesitated.

Wallem kept his face serious. "Is there no way you could appease her?"

Aralan looked at his sister hopefully.

Wallem had a thought. "And isn't be Korth who should be sorry? It was him who killed this hare."

Korth heard his name and crept forward, whining for meat.

"That's true." Siyana said. Wallem took his knife and began cutting through the tendons.

"And maybe Andruil brought this hare to you, so that you could eat?" Wallem continued, nearing home.

"Possibly." Siyana frowned.

"You don't believe in Andruil!" Aralan accused him.

"I might be warming to the idea." Wallem smiled. "She sounds like a good goddess to have on your side."

Siyana grabbed her brother and yanked him up. "Come, let's give thanks to The Great Hunter."

Wallem wiped his brow. Sweat trickled down his back but the wind chilled his exposed face. Siyana and Aralan huddled together on Bes' strong back. They climbed the final miles to Caedad's Fall. The Frostbacks rose before them, a jagged line of peaks crested with snow and storm.

Wallem pushed against the biting wind. The road was steep and winding. Rugged trees hugged the slopes. Winter would be hard this year.

"Are we almost there?" Aralan's muffled yell.

Wallem nodded. He had wrapped his sheepskin around the children and only their pink faces were visible. Bes struggled to find her footing.

Wallem pulled her over the rise and there it was.

Caedad's Fall.

The town looked to be carved into the mountain and parts of it were. Built by dwarves for the first kings of Ferelden. Once the guardian of an ancient route through the mountains, a path that had been lost to the fabled Darkspawn centuries ago. If you believed those stories.

The town was a mismatched jumble of wood and stone. The keep, Bann Semon's residence was a simple stone tower, supported by a wooden frame where the stone weakened. The chantry was wood and a beacon of colour in the grey of the mountains. Painted with vibrant scenes of Andraste's life and redrawn every year.

The wall twisted over the uneven slopes, crowned with wooden towers.

Aralan gasped. Wallem smiled at the boy.

Siyana sniffed in a most unimpressed sort of way.

They joined the crowd at the gate.

Siyana coughed at the stench of it. The townsfolk dumped their rubbish and waste into a trench dug outside the wall. Wallem watched two pigs rummaging through the filth. Aralan held his nose.

"That's disgusting."

Wallem nodded. "There'll be more inside the wall."

Bes snorted unhappily and Wallem wrapped his hand around her reins. "We'll be through it soon enough. Korth!" The dog slipped through Bes' legs. "Stay close."

Wallem had insisted that the halla be tied to Bes. The animal would surely be stolen otherwise. The deer tossed her head proudly but followed well enough.

Wallem jostled against the throng. They were soldiers mostly, here for the Bann, like Wallem himself. They were lowlanders for the most part, cold and furious at having to come so high. Those attempting entry clashed against the farmers who had finished at the market. It was a chaotic jumble, overseen by two helpless guards.

'Business in the Fall?" One man yelled at Wallem. He held a piece of parchment with dashes scratched into it with black chalk. His spear clattered to the ground and he cursed.

"I'm sworn to Bann Semon." Wallem replied. A donkey knocked against his shoulder, led by a young boy who stammered an apology. Wallem waved him away.

"Right, know the way to the Keep?" The guard grabbed his spear and looked at Wallem tiredly.

"Aye." Wallem moved past him. The man held a hand out, his eyes on the two elvish children. "What's that then?"

"Orphans." Wallem said quickly. "For the Chantry."

The guard rubbed his eyes. His skin was raw. "We don't tolerate slavery here in the Fall, you want to sell 'em, do it somewhere else."

Wallem recoiled. "I'm no slaver." He said fiercely.

"Good." The man held a gloved hand up. "No offence meant."

Wallem pushed his way through the gate.

The road was a mushy brown and Wallem's first step sank to his calf. Merchants and traders flaunted their wares through open windows along the narrow, winding street. Street children sat in the shadows rushed forward in a mad jumble. They each of them took a hold of Wallem and tried to drag their personal piece of him to this or that inn or tavern. Wallem shook them off and aimed a kick at a larger boy. They scattered. Wallem looked at the elves. "Watch yourselves." He said.

Siyana looked wary, Aralan a little frightened.

The horrid stench of the wall was replaced now with the sharp odour of leatherworkers. These men claimed a portion of the Fall for themselves, for who else would want to work and live near them?

Aralan gazed at the tall houses with clear wonder. Wallem thought he might have forgotten to blink. The sharp twang of a violin cut the air. Men milled about outside, clutching their drinks. The Fall was busy. These were freemen come to serve the Bann, and drunk already. Prostitutes wound through the crowds.

A barber was pulling teeth in the shadow of the street. His unfortunate patient clutched a bottle of brandy and groaned.

A Mother in the long robes of the Chantry passed them, whispering benedictions. Wallem skirted her.

"You're a thief!" A severe looking woman complained to a butcher, who cowered behind his window.

"These are the Frostbacks, Lady, fish is hard to come by."

"Three silvers! And it is just about a minnow!"

Wallem led them into Rogues Lane. here the houses were squat, dirty and single story. The street was barely wide enough for two men to pass and desperate children lurked in the cramped lanes. Wallem kept a hand close to his sword hilt. The Keep towered over them and this was truly the lowest quarter of the Fall.

A leper sat beside a shrine to Andraste. He covered his face in his hood but Wallem saw the clawed remains of his hand.

Two mages conversed in hissed whispers through the window of an apothecary. They stared at Wallem until he'd passed.

"Is this a dangerous place?" Aralan asked.

Wallem smiled grimly. "It can be." He found his steps were growing smaller, his heart was hammering underneath his chainmail and he didn't think it had anything to do with the climb. He rubbed at his face.

Over the backs of the cramped hovels, the topmost branches of a tree waved in the wind. Wallem sighed.

The Tree of the People rose proudly in the centre of the square, bedecked with ribbons and splashed with bright colours, murals painted across the thick trunk.

Aralan gasped.

"Vhenadahl." Siyana whispered.

"The Tree of the People." Wallem was resigned. A symbol of the lost homeland, or some such thing.

Traders were packing away their stalls, clustered around the huge oak tree.

They were elves and gazed at Wallem curiously. He imagined the alienage was a place most humans avoided. He had not been here since he was a boy.

"Help you Lord?" An elf carried hot pies in his apron.

"I was hoping to see the Hahren." Wallem said.

The elf bowed. "I will fetch her Lord." He vanished into the shadows of an alley.

Wallem stared around at the alienage. There were more hovels stacked on top of each other and ladders crossed the floors. Elven children, sat around a bucket and cleaning brushes murmured to each other.

Siyana looked aghast at it all. "This is where the People live?" She demanded.

"Hush." Wallem said quickly. "You will offend them."

Siyana glared at him. "Your race did this."

Wallem sighed. Aralan fidgeted on Bes. "I don't want to live here." He said quietly.

An old elf with her hair tied back into a plait approached them. She wore a faded blue cloak with a high collar that hugged her slender form. She gazed at Wallem with suspicion clear in her bright eyes.

"I am Lanain, Hahren here in the Fall. You wanted to see me?" The elf spoke in a clear, carrying voice and Wallem could see the other elves paused in their work to hear.

"My name is . . ." Wallem rubbed his face. "Wallem Scotson. I-"

"Atheras?" A woman's voice. Wallem turned slowly, wishing he could squeeze his eyes shut. A young woman held one end of a large chest. Two boys carried the other.

"Atheras." The elf dropped her chest and clutched a hand to her mouth.

The Hahren stared at them. She had not yet noticed the two Dalish children.

"A halla!" A boy at the bucket leapt up and rushed over. "A real halla!" His fellows joined him and they all clustered around the deer, though they appeared unwilling to pat her.

"Ien'alas lath'din!" Siyana growled.

"Leave her alone!" Aralan slipped off Bes.

"I just wanted to touch her!" The boy protested.

"She is a halla!" Siyana yelled. "Don't you know anything?"

"Wait!" Wallem stepped between them.

"Atheras!" The woman stepped closer. She hugged her children to her. "Is it you?"

"His name is Wallem!" Siyana snapped.

"Aye." Wallem turned to his sister. "It's me Sulhan."

The elf stared at him in shock. "You bastard." She swore. She grabbed her boys and marched away.

"I think we should go inside, Atheras." Lanain touched his arm.

"We have not seen you in years." Lanain said. She sipped her lemon tea. Hers was surely the nicest home in the alienage and it was a cramped one room and sparsely furnished. There was a chest sat before a collection of furs on the floor. A few elves bustled around the stove. Wallem sat on the floor with Siyana and Aralan on either side, facing the Hahren.

"You were a boy when you left." Lanain continued.

"I didn't leave." Wallem said. "I was taken."

"You are seth'lin." Siyana accused him.

Wallem stared at her. "I don't know what that means."
"She means you have elf-blood." Lanain supplied. She turned to the girl with a smile. "He is. His mother lived here. You are Dalish?"

"I am a true elf." Siyana said. She glared at Wallem. "And I will not stay here."

Wallem sighed. "I am here only for the children. Their Clan was killed outside Three Trees. They have no one left in the world."

"How terrible. You found them?"

Wallem nodded. "Can you take them?"

"I am NOT staying here!" Siyana leapt to her feet. "And neither is my brother! This is a hovel! You are not Hahren, just an old servant!"

Wallem rubbed his aching head. "Siyana, sit down please."

"I am not yours to command, human." Siyana retorted.

"Do you know of any Dalish around here?" Wallem asked Lanain.

The Hahren shook her head. "I am sorry." She smiled at Siyana. "I know that this is not what you are used to but you will have a home here if you want it."

"I would rather die than live here." Siyana barked. She tore from the room.

Aralan looked to Wallem. "Follow your sister." He said. "And bring her back, if you can."
"I don't want to stay here either." The boy said quietly.

"I know." Wallem squeezed the child's shoulder. The elf traipsed after his sister.

"She is headstrong." Lanain said. "But she will understand, with time. When did this happen?"

"Not more than a few days." Wallem replied. "She suffers. They both do."

"They have lost everything."

Wallem shook his head. "I can't stay here. I have to get to the Keep."

"Leave the children with me." Lanain told him. She paused. "Are you going to see your sister?"

"Those were her children?"

"Your nephews." Lanain nodded.

"No." Wallem stood. "If she asks . . . I don't know what to tell her."

"You're always welcome here, Arathas." The Hahren said softly.

Wallem smirked. "You know that's not true. I'm not an elf or a human. At least I can pretend to be human though." He left the room.

Wallem climbed down the ladder and found Aralan at the bottom. He stroked the halla gently. The animal seemed to sense his pain and she nuzzled her face against the boy's neck.

"Did you find her?" Wallem asked him.

Aralan wrapped his arms around the halla. She blinked at Wallem reproachfully, as though he had upset the boy. "She told me to go away."

Wallem knelt down.

"Why didn't you tell me you had Elvhen blood?" Aralan still hadn't looked at him.

"It's a secret." Wallem said. "If anyone knew, I'd lose everything."

"Why?"

Wallem decided to start at the beginning. "My mother was an elf, she lived here in this alienage." He waved a hand towards the huge oak tree. "My father was a freeman, come here for the Bann. He saw her and wanted her. He took her, against her objections and then he left. Same story all over Thedas. But then I was born here and I grew to be a boy here. My father knew of me, my mother asked a man with letters to write my father and tell him. He didn't want to know about it." Wallem smiled sardonically. "Until he lay dying and he began to remember all the sins he committed. He sent for me. My half brother understood it all. He's a good man and he started the rumour that I was the son of some Fall prostitute. I was a bastard but I wasn't an elf and I could inherit. I don't look anything like an elf. I can pass for human. It was hard those first months, learning to live a separate life." Wallem placed a hand on Aralan's shoulder. "I know that it's hard and it'll be a lot to remember and there'll be days you'll cry yourself to sleep. This is the best I can offer you though."

Aralan gazed at him levelly. "I understand." He said finally. Wallem stood.

"Andraste go with you." He said.

Aralan didn't bother to reply.

Wallem led Bes into the courtyard, darkened by the shadow of the Keep. Rows of tents were set onto the stone and hundreds of soldiers, wives, children, traders, surgeons, barbers, priests, moneylenders and opportunists milled about.

Korth walked with his head down.

"Cheer up." Wallem said irritably. He looked for a place to sleep. His body ached after those days walking and now his head ached too. He longed to forget the world.

Wallem wandered through camp. There were probably two hundred soldiers squeezed into the cramped courtyard. A strong showing, but Bann Semon was a popular ruler. Men flocked to his banner for their chance to win riches and glory. Wallem had fought the Avvars enough times to know there was nothing of anything to be found in those mountains.

"Wallem!" His wife's brother, Alec was kneeling on the ground playing dice. He stood and stretched. His face was a huge grin.

"Wallem." He said again. "I've been waiting for you."

They embraced and Wallem took the little wooden soldier from his bag. "A present to her nephew, from your sister." Wallem said.

"Still doing that, is she?" Alec slapped Wallem on the back. "Appreciate it. How is Maere? She keeps a clean house?"

"She does." Wallem took a swig of offered wine. "Cheers."

"To King Maric." Alec raised his own cup.

"The king." Wallem wiped his mouth.

Alec knelt down and scratched Korth's ears. "What took you?"

"I took my time on the road." Wallem replied. He waved to a few faces he knew. "What's in the Bann's mind?"

"The Avvar savages are getting bold, that's the rumour. We'll head up and burn a few of their holds." Alec shrugged. "You might know, heard there were Templars around Three Trees?"

Wallem frowned. "What did you hear?"

Alec shrugged again. He knelt down. "Just that. Templars rooting out heretics and apostates."

"Aye, they murdered a clan of Dalish." Wallem replied.

"Soup?" A soldier led two elvish servants through the camp. They carted a steaming pot between them. "Courtesy of Bann Semon."

Wallem nodded and took a bowl of the broth. "Cheers."

"Dalish?" Alec repeated. "They're just bandits anyway. But there might be more burned elves. The Templars are working their way up here."

"What's that?" Wallem asked. He spooned his broth.

"There's a man here, name of Eric, he's fought with Templars. They hired him and a few others as guides whilst they hunted apostates. He told me they start in the alienages for easy apostates. These elves aren't really Andrastians."

Wallem sighed. "True heroes."

"They fight abominations and demons so that the rest of us can sleep safely." Alec argued.

"Have you walked through the alienage? Those elves are a sad lot. They're no threat to the Chantry."

"They sing the Chant only because they are forced to." Alec said.

"Then where does the fault lie?" Wallem asked. "But these Templars, when do they arrive in The Fall?"

Alec shrugged. "You'd know as much as I do."

Wallem nodded slowly. "How's your boy?"

Alec smiled. "Going to be strong. He's already helping me break up the soil. My girl though, she wants to be a soldier."

Wallem let him talk. He thought of Aralan and Siyana.

Aralan couldn't sleep. His body was restless. He stared at the ceiling, so low and the walls, so near and felt that he was in a tomb. Aralan had never slept without the stars above his head. They watched the people, kept them safe. He was outside their gaze now.

Aralan wiped his eyes. He missed the forest, the security of the aravals, the songs they sung around the fire, hunting with his mother and days spent outside. Every moment outside and now he was in this wooden box with the other children.

"Brother."

Aralan sat up. His sister knelt beside him. She was wrapped in a tattered cloak that was too large for her. Siyana had draped a scarf around her head to hide her ears.

"You're going." Aralan said.

Siyana smiled sadly. "I am. I'm going to kill the Shemlen who killed our mother and our Clan."

Aralan squeezed his eyes shut. "Let me come with you."

"No." His sister's voice was firm. "You're safe here. I'll come back for you. But I have to do this."

"Why?" Aralan begged her.

"Because I'll die if I do nothing."

"You'll die if you go." Aralan sobbed.

Siyana stroked his face. "I'll come back. I swear to Elgar'Nan that I will kill those warriors in their shiny armour and then return to you."

"Ma-arlath." Siyana whispered.

"Me too."

Aralan caught his sister in a hug. He hoped it would never end but it was over too soon and then his sister was gone. Aralan wept, curled into his ragged piece of blanket, on the floor. He wept until he fell asleep.

Korth ran ahead. It was as though the dog knew what his master planned. Wallem navigated the cramped lanes on Bes. He cantered through a market and the stall holders cursed him as he passed them. And then there was the Tree of the People before him. Wallem pulled Bes to a walk. He searched the childrens' faces.

"Wallem?" A boy's voice. Wallem found himself smiling. He turned Bes around and there was Aralan. He sat on the ground and stripped a dead chicken of her feathers.

Wallem dismounted and approached the elf. Korth was already licking the boy's ears. Wallem knelt before him.

"Aralan, where is your sister?"

Aralan shook his head. "Gone."

Wallem didn't really think she'd stay. "Aralan, I wish to make you my ward. It means you would come with me into the mountains. After that you will come back-"

"Yes, please." Aralan nodded quickly.

"I haven't finished." Wallem grinned.

"I know. But I accept." Aralan said.

Wallem took the boy by his shoulders. "Let's go then."

"Arathas." Lanain approached them slowly, her hands clasped before her. "What are you doing here?"

Wallem lifted the elf onto Bes. "I'm taking the boy with me."

Lanain smiled wryly. "I think that would be best."

"Thank you." Wallem hesitated. He took his purse from his belt and passed it to the Hahren. "For my sister. If she'll take it."

"Dareth shiral." Lanain bowed.

"If there are any of you who still follow the Old Ways." Wallem said hesitantly. "There are Templars on their way to the Pass."

Lanain's eyes widened. She nodded but didn't reply.

"Goodbye." Wallem said. He swung a leg over Bes.

Aralan hammered the iron into place. He wiped his brow. Cailan handed Aralan his flask.

"Ma serannas." Aralan told his little brother.

"Is it ready?" Cailan asked.

"Almost." Aralan examined the wheel. He took a swig of water.

"Can I drive the wagon to Three Trees?" Cailan asked Aralan, eyes wide.

"This is a Dalish built wagon." Aralan grinned. He leant the wheel against the wagon frame. "A Dalish should be the first to drive it."

"But you built it!" Cailan retorted.

"And I'm Dalish." Aralan laughed.

"Aralan." Maere said. She washed chicken flesh in a bowl. "Stop torturing your brother."

"Sorry mother." Aralan said. "Course you can, Cailan. Help me put this wheel on."

Wallem was in the field with Aster the donkey, for Bes was ageing and preferred to stay in her paddock when she could. They loved the horse too much to force her to do anything she'd rather not do.

"Aralan." Maere squinted against the sun. "What is that?"

The elf stood. The red sails of aravels fluttered in the breeze. A convoy on the road. Aralan grinned. He hadn't seen aravels since he was a boy. The land ships of the Dalish, caravans so beautifully built they appeared to float along the road. Drawn by pure white halla with Dalish sat on the roofs.

"Aravels." Aralan said. "You will see them properly soon mother."

One Dalish warrior cantered towards the homestead, mounted on a proud halla. Her face was etched with tattoos and a single long braid of rich brown hair trailed her. The Dalish woman carried a bow slung over one shoulder.

Aralan ran towards her. He leapt over Wallem's boundary stone and onto the road. He sprinted along the stones on bare feet. His chest heaved, his throat burned.

He heard old Korth barking excitedly. Heard his mother and brother calling to him. Heard dear Wallem, his father shouting but he didn't care.

The Dalish woman swung off her halla and ran the last yards to her brother. They caught each other and fell onto the road.

Aralan clutched at his sister and sobbed freely into her shoulder.

"I came back." Siyana whispered. She stroked her little brother's head. "I came back."