The Dalish nurtured Lea back to health on his friend's request. Lea had not asked for his name and thought himself inconsiderate for his blunder. None of the caretakers at the camp's infirmary wanted to reveal it to him. "It's not a shemlen's place to ask," one had said. He was an elder elf, his hair long and blond, and eyes full of disdain. None of which showed in his care for Lea's wounds. Two days later, Lea could stand again. A wonder considering that no magic had been used to heal him.
The first he did was to leave the tent. The more he was studied the more uneasy he felt. It would not take long for the caretakers to discover that he was an apostate. A Dalish clan set for war would not want trouble with the templars. The camp was alive with warriors sat around small camp fires, speaking of old tales in a language that was unlike anything Lea had heard. He had read Elvish, but he had never imagined it would sound like this. He sought for his savior amongst the group but found first a large beast sat with a group at the outskirts of camp by the Keeper's tent. A Qunari. Lea had heard legends of their conquering, their brutality and unyielding faith in the Qun. Roxas had once compared the templars to the Qunari as jest. It had been a grave mistake. The jest had Roxas almost turned into a Tranquil. This Qunari in particular, though great in size, seemed peaceful where he sat surrounded by elves. But then he turned his head to glare straight at Lea from across the camp. Lea nearly swallowed his tongue in fear and quickly shifted his attention elsewhere.
He found his savior on the other side of the camp. The elves around him were rowdy, discussing and laughing, a complete opposite to what Lea remembered ever reading in a book.
"Shemlen!" said one of the younger elves as a warning at seeing Lea approach them. Lea had quickly taken dislike to that word. It meant 'human', but many of the elves here said it with such hatred they might as well have called him an abomination.
"Join us," said Lea's savior and moved down the log he was sitting on to make room. "We're having supper."
"Your rations is with our Keeper, shemlen," said another elf. Lea would have listened and gone back, but he would much rather take his chances with an uppity elf than an irked Qunari. He sat down on the trunk and gladly accepted the wooden bowl his savior offered him. At the shore, he had eaten with his bare hands and slobbered like a beast. Now, he ate with restraint to not give his company more reason to dislike him, but still they were offended.
"Should I be using cutlery?" Lea asked his savior in a low voice.
"Eat in peace, shemlen. They are not upset with you but with our history."
"I'm Lea. Call me Lea. Please," Lea smiled at him politely. Should his savior take to call him 'shemlen' like the others, Lea feared he might burst into tears.
"I'm Isa."
Lea offered him his hand for a greeting, forgetting that his fingers were soaked in the juice of the strips of meat he had been eating. Isa handed him a cloth and chuckled as Lea discovered small specks of food on himself. The ominous clouds of chaos that had emerged at the uprising of the mages had not dispersed when Lea had laid on the shore, roasting in the sun. They had lingered and promised him endless rain. The Maker had no reason to hear his pleas for freedom. Yet the rain had ceased and the dark clouds were pulling back. In the southern village that had once been home to Lea the villagers always looked for signs of better times after torrential rain. The most certain sign was a rainbow. Lea had found his in Isa.