Notes: I'm spoiling you all with such fast updates. Haha! But I've been dying to write this chapter for a long time. I'm really excited to share the sequel with everyone. That said, I should warn you that this chapter is pretty dark. Rhynn isn't in a good place, so I'm including a trigger warning for suicidal thoughts. It's very brief, but if that's an issue for you, you can skip the third section.

And now, without further ado, here is the first chapter of Healer.

Chapter 1: Hope

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

- The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

I sit on the ledge outside my window, legs dangling, watching the sky cars whizz by. The city appears especially dingy tonight. It always looks like the shithole it is, but the atmosphere this evening is particularly despondent.

Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.

I chuckle humorlessly into my half-full bottle of cheap liquor and take a sip.

You certainly have.

With a weary sigh, I let my head fall back against the wall and close my eyes.

Two years today.

Ah, so that's why we're brooding on a window ledge and drinking an entire bottle of alcohol.

Damn right.

That's how long it's been since I left Thedas. Two very long years. I couldn't just let such an anniversary pass without acknowledgment. I lift my bottle in salute and shout a hearty, "Fuck you!" to the uncaring city. It gives me a good twenty seconds of petty satisfaction.

A single knock at the door ruins it.

"Fuck off, Anzo!" I growl in the native tongue.

One of these days, I'm going to finally end up on a planet with translators. What a fine day that will be.

"Answer the door, Rhynn," the alien demands, sounding unamused. Then again, he's rarely ever anything but.

With a groan, I haul myself back inside. Four steps later, I'm at the door. I live in a damned closet.

"What do you want?" I ask tonelessly after yanking the half-broken door open.

"A joy, as ever," Anzo sneers. I glare and he huffs. "Shira forbid you learn some manners."

"Manners? On Esrin?" I ask, eyebrow raised.

"One can hope."

Ah, hope. Someone should warn him about that.

"Was there a point to this or did you just come here to sweet talk me?" I smirk, canting a hip.

Anzo blinks his four eyes and somehow manages to convey disappointment with the gesture. "Boss man wants his rent. You're two cycles late, shik'r'n."

I lean against the door frame and give him a fake flirtatious look. "Maybe there's another way I can pay…" I purr. It's a routine we have.

Anzo sighs. "You need to take this seriously. He's been unusually lenient with you. This isn't the first time you've been late with your payments and there's talk of eviction."

"I can handle it, Anzo. Speaking of which…" Anzo likes to hide money in my apartment, perhaps hoping I'll mistake it as my own. I stuff the currency into the pocket of his shirt and he makes a frustrated noise. "I don't need charity."

"Clearly you do," he argues, taking the bills out and trying to force them upon me. I bat his hand away.

"I'll work a few days in the mines," I shrug.

"Rhynn…" he sighs, looking worried. "I wish you wouldn't. It's too dangerous."

What would he say if I told him how mild the mines are in comparison to the rest of my life?

I shrug again. "It's money."

Anzo's expression changes to one of anger. "What happened to you that made you stop giving a damn?" he spits.

I shut the door in his face, locking it for good measure.

What, indeed?

I turn and flop down on the ratty couch. I take a large swig of my drink to dislodge the lump in my throat.

Hope, Anzo. Blame it on hope.

I used to have it. When I left Earth, I had hope that I'd be able to go back. When all of my friends died because of me, it was dimmed but still present. When I was little more than a lab rat, I placed my hope in my curse, begging to be whisked away to a new planet. And when Flemeth asked if I'd learned to control my power… oh God did I have hope.

Well look where it got me. On a shitty asteroid floating through space. In a shitty apartment that's little more than a broom closet. Alone with my own shitty company.

At least there's a window.

"I'll drink to that." I take another swallow.

Even after I left Thedas, I still had hope. Each time the buzzing returned, I wished with all my might to return. But a person can only take so much disappointment.

So I gave up.

Two weeks later, I'm evicted from my closet. Anzo offers to let me stay with him for a bit, but I don't need his damned charity. I've gotten on just fine by myself before.

It's cold out on the street, though. Shivering, I tug my threadbare jacket tighter around me. What I wouldn't give for my pack right about now. A way to start a fire would be quite welcome. I left everything in Thedas when I world-hopped. My pack, my journal, most of my weapons, my violin.

Solas.

My chest gives a painful squeeze. "Damn it…" I know better than to think about these things.

At least I was able to purchase a new gun. This one is much nicer than my pistol. An energy weapon, with plenty of spare ammo packs. That's one of the few good things about Esrin: no weapon restrictions. Despite the fact that I'm an alien amongst aliens, acquiring a gun was as easy as walking into a store and purchasing it. No questions asked.

Lost in my thoughts, the blow to the back of my head catches me completely off guard.

I stumble and fall into the wall.

"What the fuck?" I mutter in English, my vision blurring. I turn to face my attacker, only to receive a punch to the face. I both hear and feel my nose break. Blood immediately begins pouring out, trickling over my lips and dripping from my chin.

I lift my arms to guard my face and try to fight back, but my vision has only gotten blurrier and the pain is making my ears ring.

The next blow catches me in the stomach, knocking the air out of my lungs and causing me to hunch over. My attacker uses the opportunity to hit the back of my head again, sending me sprawling on the ground. I try to pull myself up, but a kick to the ribs stops that.

And then another kick while I'm down. Something snaps.

There goes a rib…

A clawed hand grabs my dirty, messy braid and yanks my head back.

"You still owe Yorvic money. Don't forget. You have a week. Next time, you pay with your life."

My hair is released and my head smacks into the ground. And then it starts raining because of course it does.

Bloody and in pain, I drag myself over to the wall and prop myself up. I dig into one of my pockets and pull out a quarter-full vial of healing potion. My stinginess has kept it this long, but now I gulp down the remainder.

I end up having to reset my own nose, screeching through my teeth the whole time. There's not much to do for the rib, but I find some fabric in a dumpster – with suspicious stains – and wrap it tightly around my torso.

I spend the next week hiding from Yorvic's goons and dumpster diving for food. I would hightail it out of his district, but I can't move very far.

I finish my five-star meal of spoiled stew and curl up in an alcove. I'm still hungry, I'm freezing, the voice is nattering on about what an idiot I am, and everything hurts. It hurts to breathe, move, stay still, blink!

I don't want to be anymore.

There's a solution to that, you know.

I think about the gun at my hip. Would I even die? Or would I just walk around with a big hole in my head and a few loose screws?

A few more.

My fingers twitch.

So this is what rock bottom feels like.

I thought I'd hit it before, but boy was I wrong. I was only skimming it.

You should try it. What have you got to lose?

"Your winning personality," I mutter, but my hand moves to rest on the gun.

And freezes there.

There's a buzz at the base of my skull. The buzz. I start laughing. It hurts like a bitch. Tears leak from my swollen eyes and it's not so much laughing anymore.

There's no end for me. The buzz won't let me die. What was I thinking? There's no escape.

You're delirious.

That strikes me as hilarious and my laughter resumes, even as my rib screams in agony.

A few days later, when the buzz becomes all-consuming, I'm nearly unconscious and thinking of home. Not of the apartment I lived in for college; that was never home. No, my thoughts are of a small house in Oregon. It's faded blue with white trim. There's a small garden in back and a swing on the front porch. Dad sits there, sipping some oddly named craft beer and enjoying the evening. Mycah and I are both home on break, sprawled on the couch and playing video games together like we did when we were kids.

There's an ache in my chest… a terrible desire for that moment in time, so far out of my grasp now. I think of my old bed, lumpy but familiar. There are still a few stuffed animals in a chair in the corner of the room. Would it be so strange if I curled up with one? Pulled the covers up to my neck and felt warm again?

I feel a tug as I'm pulled from this godforsaken asteroid.

I just want to go home…

The world fades as I pass into the next.

At least I won't have to pay Yorvic now, I think with grim humor.

The sun shines bright in the next world. A little too bright, after half a year spent on Esrin. I squeeze my eyes shut and groan softly. The smell of freshly cut grass tingles in my nose and I clench my fist in the cool blades. Clearly, I've found myself on another populated world.

Too bad… I was hoping for some peace and quiet.

Well, quiet at least.

Slowly, I force my gritty eyes open. They're still swollen and sore. I blink a few times, bringing my surroundings into focus.

I'm lying on someone's lawn. That's clear enough. Also awkward. Hopefully no one saw me appear… hard to explain that one away. There's a street in front of me with cars parked along the side. Past that, a row of houses of different shapes, sizes, and colors. Odd, but I've been to worlds that looked like Earth before.

I sit up slowly, grunting in pain and clutching my side. I turn my head to see what's behind me and –

Oh my God…

It's a little blue house with white trim and a swing on the front porch. The paint's been touched up and there are flowers lining the walkway now, but I know that house.

My house.

Breath speeding up, I push to my knees and just stare.

This can't be real.

I must be passed out in that dirty alleyway back on Esrin. Or maybe I am in a new world, but I'm so delirious from exposure that I've begun hallucinating. Either of those is about a hundred times more likely than me being back on Earth. That's a dream I gave up on a long time ago.

"Are you all right, dear?" A sweet voice asks from my left. I turn abruptly, startled, and the woman gasps.

Wait, I know her!

It's Olivia Jennings, our next door neighbor. She looks a lot older than I remember. I can't really process any of this, so I just gape at her like a fish.

"Lord! What happened to you? Do you need me to call the police?" she asks, fingers fluttering at the base of her throat.

That snaps me out of it a bit. "No, no," I rush. "That won't be necessary."

"If you're sure…" she replies hesitantly, eyeing me warily. Then her eyes narrow in contemplation. "You look awfully familiar… Do I know you?"

"Not anymore." I glance back at the house and stand slowly, one arm wrapped around my middle.

Mrs. Jennings gasps a second time. "Rhynnara…?"

Shit.

I glance at her out of the corner of my eye but say nothing.

"Oh my goodness! Is it really you?" She starts to cry and I cringe. "You're alive!" She surges forward and wraps me tightly in her arms. I can't help the loud, pained sound that wrenches from between my lips. She's squeezing my damned broken rib oh my God woman let go!

She does, quite quickly. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" she frets. "We… we need to get you to a hospital! We need to contact your family!"

"No!" I nearly shout. "No hospitals!"

"Don't be silly, dear. You're badly hurt! What happened to you? Where have you been?"

"Please, Mrs. Jennings…" I sigh. "I just want to see my family." I turn back toward the blue house.

"They… they don't live there anymore," she says quietly, a hint of sorrow in her voice. Before I can question it, though, she's grabbing my arm and tugging me toward her house. "Come on. I'll drive you to the hospital and they can contact your brother. I'm afraid I don't have his number. Oh, this will be quite the shock for the poor boy…" She keeps prattling on as she drags me to her car. I'm in too much pain to put up a fight. "Let me just grab my purse." Then she darts into her house, leaving me alone by the car.

I contemplate making a break for it, but where would I go? If my family moved, then someone else probably lives in the house now. I doubt they'd appreciate me crashing on their couch. Also, the promise of medical care is enticing. I worry, though. There was probably an investigation after I disappeared. The hospital will have to notify the cops. There will be questions and the truth isn't going to cut it.

Mrs. Jennings only takes a minute, but by the time she returns and lets us into the car, I've already come up with three possible cover stories. When she inevitably asks where I've been once more, I tell her that I don't know.

Amnesia is a good cover, right?

Yeah. Sure. I'm sure they won't see right through it.

The drive is a short one, thankfully. But then I have to go into the E.R., which isn't so great. I get some strange looks, but I can't really blame them. I look like I just came from a cosplay convention gone horribly wrong.

It takes a bit, but I'm taken into triage. My broken rib gives me some priority and they take me to a room soon enough. Before that, however, Mrs. Jennings makes sure to tell me that she's notified the hospital that I'm a missing person.

Great. Thanks, Mrs. J.

The next while is a bit of a blur as nurses dart in and out of the room, taking blood samples, checking my heartrate and breathing, etcetera. They give me medicine to dull the pain, which is amazing. A doctor assesses me and sends through a few machines to survey the extent of the damage.

When they ask me to put on a hospital gown, I insist that my belongings stay by my side. They seem a bit confused by that, but acquiesce. They haven't noticed the weapons yet; I was able to hide them in my coat. Then they set me up in a bed and hook me up to an I.V. Apparently, I'm dehydrated – I could've told them that. By the time things settle down, I'm feeling significantly better, but also a bit trapped.

The door clicks open.

"Hello, Miss Torpin," a woman greets, walking into the room. "My name is Doctor Ana Hendricks." Her graying hair is pulled back into a tight bun, making her look a bit severe, but her voice is kind.

"Hi," I reply, sipping a cup of water one of the nurses gave me.

"I'm going to get straight to the point," she says.

"I appreciate that."

She smiles a little. "You have one broken rib and another fractured one. As far as we can tell, the broken rib did not cause any further injury to your internal organs, but we'd like to keep you for observation. You also have a broken nose, which appears to have been reset somewhat." There's a question in there, but I don't bother answering so she continues. "We would reset it properly, but it has already started to heal. You also have several contusions and a mild concussion. And, as I'm sure you're aware, you possess a host of older injuries."

I just nod. I already knew all of that.

The woman pulls a chair over to the bed and seats herself. "I'm not just a doctor here, Miss Torpin. I'm also one of the hospital's many counselors. You seem to take well to the straightforward approach, so I'll tell you this: there are a few cops waiting outside to ask you questions. I was able to convince them to hold off for a bit, but only on the condition that you talk to me instead."

I snort. "Of course."

Doctor Hendricks gives me another knowing smile. "Can you tell me where you've been, Rhynnara?" she asks softly.

"It's just Rhynn," I correct. "And… I don't know."

Her thin eyebrows raise slightly. "You don't know?"

"No…" I reply hesitantly and pretend to fall into thought. "I… remember being at a concert with my family, but then… nothing."

"You don't remember what happened?"

I frown down at my hands. "I'm… no. I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about, Rhynn," she soothes. "You remember everything else, though? Your neighbor said she found you in front of your old home."

"Yeah," I nod, looking up at her. "I vaguely remember walking… and then I was looking at the house." I let the disbelief and shock I still feel show on my face. Let her make of it what she will.

Doctor Hendricks writes something down, then stands and puts the chair back. "I think that's enough for now. I'll stall the officers for a while longer." She gives me a wink and leaves the room and I almost feel bad for lying to her. She seems like a kind woman.

As soon as the door latches behind her, my eyes dart to the bundle on the bedside table. I think about just making a run for it. I'm starting to feel a bit panicky. They took blood, and it's only a matter of time before they find something strange, right? I've been to too many places not to have picked something up. I refuse to be locked in a lab again, poked and prodded.

I'm reaching for my things when the door opens again.

I nearly don't recognize the man who walks in. He freezes, staring at me with wide eyes.

Mycah.

My whole being aches to run across the room, glom onto him, and never let go. But I can't seem to make my limbs work.

There are tears welling in his brilliant blue eyes. His handsome – bearded! – face crumples and then he's jogging across the room and dragging me into his arms. I twist my hands into his flannel shirt and bury my face in the collar, ignoring the twinge of protest from my broken nose.

"Oh my God, it really is you," he whispers brokenly, running his hand over my still-dirty hair as if questioning his senses.

I let out a strangled sob. "Mycah…"

"I'm here, Rhynnie," he soothes, holding me tighter. "I've got you. Oh God…"

It's a long time before either of us is willing to break the hug. He pulls back and my hands go to his face.

"Look at you, little brother!" I tease, a giant grin splitting my face. "You finally grew that beard you always wanted!"

Mycah gives a watery laugh and lays his hands over mine.

"You look like dad now!" I chuckle. "Speaking of which, where is he?"

Mycah's smile drops and he looks away. My blood turns to ice.

No, Mycah. Don't do this to me. Tell me he's on his way… that he's right behind you.

"Rhynn, I…" He takes a deep breath, shoulders drooping. Then he looks me in the eyes, expression full of sorrow. "Dad passed away five years ago."

Notes: So I got the feeling a lot of you are worried about how I'm going to end this. Let me settle your fears. I hate sad endings. There's nothing worse than devoting yourself to reading a story only to come to the end and have your heart broken. That's happened to me before, a few times, and each time left me feeling awful. I don't ever want to make my readers feel that way. I will absolutely enjoy grinding your feelings into the dust along the way. But I want you to leave this story feeling content, at the very least. So fear not, my friends. This story will have a happy ending.

Also, just a reminder, I'm still accepting OC submissions. Here are the types of characters I need:

-Tevinter slaves (elf or human)

-Tevinter citizens in general
- ancient elves
- modern elves (city or dalish)
- Thedosian humans
- Earth humans (specifically a friend or two from Rhynn's past; this would probably be a brief appearance)
- qunari

If you'd like to submit a character, you can do so through comments on here or you can head on over to my tumblr page ( .com) and send it to me in whatever form you prefer (message, ask, submission, etc.). I'll even accept anonymous submissions. Also, if you're not sure what sort of information I want, I'd be happy to give you some ideas. Thanks again to everyone who has submitted a character! I look forward to adding them to the story!