((Chapter One in the travel journal of a Dalish elf. She reflects on saying goodbye and remembering what all that means. Rated M for mature adult stuff. And yeah Bioware, they own alll the DA goodness that inspire me to write this tale. Long mushy tale is long. CC is appriated and welcomed. It's been ten years.))

Travel Journal -

It's been about a week now that I have been on the road with the shemlen Duncan. He claims to have a cure for whatever this illness those demonic things so graciously gifted me with. I did not wish to leave my clan, especially so soon after … well. I would say burial but I never did find Tamlen's body. When I placed the roots of the sapling into the earth to honor his passing I placed my heart there too.

I am not sure I fully believe he is truly gone, something inside me nags that he is not truly gone. One thing that I know that will never leave is this overwhelming guilt. I should have dragged Tamlen's ass out of that damn cave. For him I will go fight these evil things and kill every last one of them for what they have taken from my clan and from my heart.

If it were not my duty to the Dalish I would not have left my clan. Sick or not. Yet the Keeper insisted this was the only way for me to live and it was my duty to fight these darkspawn creatures with this shemlen Duncan. It is painful to remember walking away, the look of sadness in Ashelle's eyes. Ashelle who has been a mother to me. She gave to me my mother's locket before I left to search for Tamlen. She gave to me many things that I hope to honor. Her quiet strength, her gentle dignity, and her patience. It is these qualities I will honor through my own actions. Hopefully.

"Sahira, da'len, you are almost a woman now. It is one thing to be a fierce hunter but never forget you are a woman as well."

Ashelle and I had been searching for herbs that day, enjoying the scents and sights of the meadow close to where we had currently camped. It was the day after a rainstorm, the green grass was still glistening with droplets the the world smelled fresh and new. Ashelle had tucked a pale blue wildflower into my hair and pulled me down to sit beside her.

"You can be strong da'len and still be a woman of dignity and grace. Your mother was so. The embodiment of Andruil herself. Goddess of the hunt, Lady of the Moon. A balance of beauty and ferocity. I see this in you."

I had always strove to be a good daughter to Ashelle and make her proud, for she had always been good to me. While she did not speak often of my parents, I was always enraptured by what little snippets she would share. In return I shared with her all the corners of my heart, the small triumphs and the defeats. Always with infinite gentle patience she guided me through the awkwardness of having a first crush, the pain of loosing a member of the clan to death for the first time. This was the woman who healed my skinned knees and held my hand as I confessed my feelings for Tamlen. I strove to be like her.

I pulled Ashelle into my arms and hugged her fiercely as I trembled. I thought my legs would give way beneath me as it broke my heart to leave her, to see the sadness etched so deeply in her eyes.

"You will be in my heart Mamae, I will make you proud."

Maren looked broken when I clasped her fingers into mine and pressed a kiss to her cheek. A second mother to me and oh so wise in the ways of beasts. It was she who encouraged my study to learn to read and write. Too few of us even take the time to learn to read and write, which has always struck me as odd seeing we live to preserve our history. I think to survive well in a world where our kind is hated we must learn all that we can. I preserve my knowledge of the herbal remedies and poisons, of what is needed to make the traps. In between those entries and the samples of herbs are my memories.

I shared this intimate knowledge with Maren, stating that someday I would pass this book gifted to me by Paivel and Temlen to my daughters. I recall the day we sat together by the halla pen, speaking of the nature of these proud and gentle beasts.

"Come da'len. To be a hunter one needs to learn not only how to track animals but also to understand them completely. We are equal with all those in nature."

I listened closely as I knelt before the small halla fawn, my forehead pressed to it's own. My hands cupped either side of it's pale furry head and I felt myself open to it. I listened with my heart, with my soul. I understood the silent communication as it's gaze locked to mine. I felt the simple joy of it's heart. This particular halla was also hungry, and that was not so hard to figure out as it seemed to think the laces of my leather vest were lunch.

"I think I understand Maren. While we may hunt beasts we must also respect them as we are all equal. We must honor them."

"Yes da'len. Always honor them."

Maren then pressed something soft into my hands, made of the pale shaggy strands of halla fur. A bookmark, expertly woven.

"I will treasure it always as I treasure you. I carry you with me."