A/N: This story had gotten so long I had to split it up. 'Tis a shame. For those of my readers demanding (term used loosely) exposition for Keelan's character and motivations, Merry Christmas.
Warnings: Some (mildly?) graphic scenes, cursing (mostly elvish), and some angst.
Timeline: Six days before Ostagar.
Six Days, Pt. 1
"I understand congratulations are in order for your impending wedding," the dark-skinned warrior bowed courteously. Keelan was not impressed, but for her cousin Soris' sake, she restrained her impulses in exchange for diplomacy.
"Thanks, but please leave. I'd rather avoid any unpleasantness," she said tersely.
He blinked, perplexed, "What manner of unpleasantness might you be referring to?"
"The kind involving our boots in your backside." Keelan bit, jabbing her finger in his direction.
"Um, that's not what she meant to say. She meant it just might be easier for everyone if you moved along," Soris interjected nervously, stuttering over his words. Keelan shot him a sharp glance.
"I can speak for myself, Soris."
"Thank you, Soris," the human nodded politely, "but I wish to hear what she has to say."
Keelan composed herself, though beneath the steady demeanour she was tensing, ready to fight. "I will ask once more, politely, please leave."
"And I refuse, yet again. Now what?" His dark eyes watched her closely, studying her with that controlled curiosity. Frankly, it irritated her.
"I'm not backing down. This is no place for you."
Keelan was aware that the human was bigger than her, stronger than her, and judging by his armor and weapons, he was an experienced rogue. He showed no fear, only fascination, always calm. Her chances were slim to none, she knew it, perhaps she could keep him busy for a minute or two, but if this battle she would die. However, that didn't stop her from trying to prove a point.
"Surely it has not escaped your notice that I am both armed and armored. Any fight between us would be rather one-sided."
"All the more reason for you to go!"
The 'armed and armored' human shook his head, folding his arms, "I'm sorry, but I have no intention of leaving. Unless you intend to force me to do so?" His brow quirked in the most infuriatingly calm fashion. Keelan narrowed her eyes at the shemlen.
"I'm no stranger to battle, bring it on!" Keelan rolled her shoulders, fighting in her wedding dress? She didn't know who would be more angry with her: her father, Shianni, or Nelaros.
"Try not to die! I'll go for help!" Soris started.
The human put up his hands placatingly, "No need. I am not here to fight you. Still, I find such bravery most impressive, do you not agree, Valendrian?"
Keelan had not even noticed the elder come in. Instantly she relaxed her stance, nodding respectfully toward elder Valendrian.
"I would say the world has for more use of those who know how to stay their blades. It is good to see you again, my old friend, it has been too long," Valendrian smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling noticably in his old age, squeezing the human's shoulder affably. He bowed, with a faint but fond smile in return. "May I present Duncan, head of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden."
Keelan frowned, "Why should I care?"
Bells sounded from the city of Denerim; the mournful sound echoing throughout the rugged Ferelden landscape. Keelan cringed when she heard the sound, glancing back at the fading city filled with guilt and shame. Even though she had been spared the fate of Denerim's dungeons, she still lost. She lost everything that mattered to her. She failed her Shianni, her father, Nelaros, Valendrian... Now she was being lead from her home, the only place she ever knew and in six days time she was to fight a war that she knew nothing about with people she could not trust.
Her life was supposed to be simpler, Keelan was convinced of it. Naturally she fought her father on the subject of her marriage, but her father was right. No one can run forever, at some point one must stop and begin their life. She had thought.. that her new life would be with Nelaros. I would have made a good mother, I know it. Mother had taught me well. I could protect them, I could teach them-
Keelan cut her thoughts short as her throat constricted, the emotions she was holding at bay threatened to overwhelm her. Despite what Duncan had done for her, he was still a strange, armed human. As he had put it himself.
Duncan cast a sidelong glance at his grim elven recruit. She had shown remarkable potential; she was precise, fierce, determined, and skilled in combat. Despite his success in finding a recuit, he wished she need not have suffered so much in order for him to recognize her abilities. Keelan was so much like her mother, the prodigious Adaia Tabris. It was like looking at a younger version of her mother, though with a fairer complexion. However, she was unrefined. She was reckless, destructive, and angry. The fact did not trouble him much. While he knew from experience that was a precarious position for a child to be, it was also common.
Grey Wardens answered a calling, it was destiny, fate. He knew what he was demanding of the girl. Her journey would cost her her life, be it in the upcoming battle, or when she heard her own calling.
If she survived, that is.
The sun had reached its zenith and Keelan's grief had simmered, allowing a bitter anger to overtake her. The feeling was very familiar; it was what overtook her for so long after her mother was killed. The anger never really went away, like so many other things one wishes forgotten, it simply lingered in the shadows of one's mind, waiting for the perfect opportunity to take hold. Now there was no one to protect her from herself; it was her in a foreign land that was her own, amongst the very people who had segregated and discriminated against her people, only this time with no Alienage to seek as refuge.
She had lost.
"Oh, you look stunning, Keelan," Shianni circled her cousin, inspecting the dress quite thoroughly. Keelan rolled her eyes, throwing her head back.
"I look ridiculous in this get-up, Shianni!"
"No you don't. You look great."
"With only your word, cousin," Keelan arched an eyebrow suspiciously. Shianni gasped most dramatically, making her cousin chuckle.
"Now, now. Would I ever sabotage you?"
"Ye-"
"Point is: your fiancee will love it. I asked Uncle Cyrion, and he said, and I quote, 'He's handsome enough, Shianni, now rouse your cousin!'" Keelan burst out laughing at Shianni's impression of her father.
"He better be, I'm going to be terribly disappointed if my husband-to-be turns out to be like Elva's. Ugh." The pair grimaced as if the subject left a bad taste in their mouths.
Shianni gathered her cousin's long yellow hair from her shoulders, braiding a circlet of hair around her head and gracefully weaving Keelan's old green ribbon into the pattern. The two grew quiet as Shianni plaited her cousins hair. The silence that loomed over them was unnerving. Keelan was not the most talkative person in the world, nor was she the most easy-going, but Shianni recognized uneasy silence when it smacked her in the face.
"You don't want to go through with it, do you?" It was hardly a question. Their little 'trio' was so close, they often knew what the other was thinking without saying. It made getting things done, meaning things not strictly speaking legal. And she and Soris knew Keelan, Soris had even suggested that Keelan had only acquiesced to her father's choice because of just that: he was her father. Arranged weddings were tradition, it was smart; elders chose your mate because they had experience, they knew what was best.
"Am I that obvious?" Keelan smirked half-heartedly.
"Unfortunately, yes, my dear. You need to work on your tells." Keelan chuckled. "I know you'd rather run off to join the Dalish, but this business really isn't so bad."
"It's not?"
"No, they're so much fun! There's going to be music, decorations, feasting... " Shianni smiled softly, attaching some flowers to her braids and some in the rest of her mane. Keelan scoffed.
"You just want to get to the drinking."
"Which won't happen until you get going, now will it?"
Keelan sighed, "Fine. But you and I are sharing a bottle this time. And we will get drunk."
"That's never in doubt." At that moment they heard someone come into the home.
"Keelan?" her father called.
"In here, Father. I'll be right out," Keelan called, glancing back at Shianni.
"Ack! Your wedding is almost starting and I'm not even in my dress!" she rolled off the bed, leaping for the door, leaving Keelan in fits of giggles. "You better be out there, cousin, I know where your hiding spots are, don't forget!"
"Get out of here, woman!" she laughed.
Keelan heard the door slam. Standing, she smoothed the fine material of the white dress. Her fingers played with the rhinestones on her belt, tracing up her midline, past her breasts to the necklace around her neck. The mirror in her room was pathetic, about the size of her hand. It felt like she was looking at someone else.
Yet... despite all the fear, the many urges to hike up her dress and run like a mad-woman into the Brecilian Forest, she felt a distinct measure of pride. Yes, she did look rather stunning.
"Keelan?" her father called again.
"Yes, Father, coming." One more glance, she took a deep breath, prepared to face the music.
The stars were out; calm, peaceful. They were the only constant in this foreign land in which she lived. Ferelden seemed as much a prison as it was her as it was her home. Elves were segregated into the Alienage. Denerim was all she knew, Maker. I have never been further than the docks. To find herself just outside the gates and feel like she crossed the sea. It threw her in a loop.
Keelan dropped her gaze to focus on the crackling fire in front of her, wrapping her cloak tightly around her, keeping a watchful eye on the Grey Warden Duncan sitting across from her.
It unnerved her how he looked at her; he seemed both fascinated and indifferent with her. Like she meant something, but he detached himself. Why... she hadn't been able to discern. Keelan felt like an object, that more than anything angered her. It was always humans. Whenever he looked at her, he saw her, but as a means to an end, it seemed. Duncan didn't save her. Duncan took her.
Her eyelids weighed heavily, desperate to drift into sleep. All her muscles ached. Turns out butchering the guardsmen of half a castle was more exhausting than she had realized. Though Keelan did not want to sleep. The Warden Duncan had prevented her death by conscripting her into his Order. But it was for his advantage, he even said so. What that meant for her? Was she safe? Duncan was clearly a seasoned fighter, and from what she understood of Grey Wardens, they were legendary warriors. Whether they were trustworthy, she had no idea.
"You need your rest, Keelan." The Rivaini man rumbled in his irritatingly calm manner. Keelan frowned. His voice coupled with her exhaustion seemed to be her undoing, despite her reluctance to trust him. She gave Duncan a hard look, allowing herself to slump against the tree.
If anything... she had her blades, and if anything, he had put the reputation of his Order on the line to recruit some elven butcher. The one who butchers nobility to protect her family.
Love was the most powerful thing in the universe...
Keelan's breathing was labored; ragged but controlled and unyielding. Her eyes blazed with a raging fire as her lips curled, revealing white teeth in a feral snarl. Her slender fingers coated in hot blood squeezed the hilt of this blade that was not her own, the squelch elicited a twitch of a manic grin out of her. Keelan watched as the headless body of the bastard son of a whore Vaughan Urien slumped to the ground, spasming in the throws of death. Blood spurted from the artieries in his neck, until it slowly came to an end.
A piteous whimpering broke Keelan from her ruthless sadism. Eyes once filled with a relentless fire simmered to bear concern and trepidation. She looked down at her hands, dropping the sword. Blood had soaked her wedding dress; what once was white and pure was tainted with this. A part of her wanted to name it sin, but in her heart she knew it was only reality. This dress would have borne blood one way or another, be it hers or someone else's.
The realization that she had taken lives struck her in that moment as she turned to Shianni, wiping her bloodied hands on her skirt. All her life she trained to kill, but nothing she had done prepared her for the consequences. Keelan had taken their breath; she had taken everything they had, and everything they were ever going to have. She kept expecting to feel horrified and disgusted by herself. Instead she felt... nothing. No guilt, no triumph, no pleasure. All she felt was a grim satisfaction that Vaughan lay dead and unable to terrorize the women of her home ever again. All she cared about was getting her cousin out of this hellish place.
Keelan smoothed Shianni's hair away from her eyes, murmuring soothingly to her. Carefully she helped her cousin to her feet, making herself Shianni's rock. After all, she had to be strong, others relied on her. After everything Keelan had done, she could not fail her mother and father.
Not again.
Keelan opened her eyes sharply. Last night had renewed her strength, and for the following full day of travel she had been biding her time. Duncan had claimed they passed into the Bannorn, South Reach being another day away.
Only... she had no intention of reaching South Reach, let alone Ostagar. This was not her war. She was not some prodigious warrior that could slay dragons. Whatever plans Duncan had waiting for her were not her concern. Her concern lay with her family and her people. Though she could not return as Keelan... she would find a way to gather them and escape.
Perhaps to Kirkwall, the Free Marches. Or even Rivain. It had to be better than Denerim's Alienage.
Cautiously she surveyed the campsite; upon seeing Duncan was asleep, she silently rolled to her feet, gathered her blades and slunk off into the woods. This is not my war. She owed Duncan no allegience. He allowed the women to be taken at her wedding, surely. He could have stopped it, but he did not. Why? Because he wanted her.
As the elf got further and further away from Duncan, she started running. She had no idea where. Her sense of direction was accustomed to the systematic structure of a city, not the chaos of the wilderness. Nevertheless, she pushed forward, disregarding all her fear of the unknown. Now is not the time for such things, she reminded herself.
The land was rugged and wild; the jagged stone stabbed at her feet, despite the durable leather of her boots. In a brief moment she fondly recalled seeing her mother sewing these boots together, but never seeing them finished. It perplexed her how well the boots had fit, considering they were made when she was but an awkward gangly child who enjoyed mischief more than rules. Though as a child, who could argue with such a philosophy?
No one. It's when you grew up that one realized how dangerous that lifestyle is. Not only for oneself, but for others.
12 Cloudreach - 9:23 Dragon,
Seven years before Ostagar...
Keelan peered around the corner of a shamble of a hut on the outskirts of the Alienage, tucking a tuft of her dirty tangled mess of hair behind her elongated ear. She grinned as she could practically hear her mother in the back of her mind going on about cleanliness and 'being fit for the public eye'. Keelan would often retort that she was too busy 'exploring' to bother with that nonsense, much to her mothers chagrin.
Keelan glanced back to her cousin, Shianni, grinning most devilishly for someone her as one would expect of a young troublemaker. Her cousin didn't necessarily share her enthusiasm for said trouble.
"Your mama told us not to go out this far," she frowned. "We'll get caught for sure!"
"Don't worry, Shianni, we'll be okay," Keelan smiled warmly, attempting to reassure her cousin. Soris had been too scared to come along, she didn't want Shianni to leave too. She would be all alone then, and Keelan didn't like being alone. There was no one to impress, then.
Keelan trotted from her cover down the alleys with Shianni following close behind. They had not even made it halfway to the market square before a human sauntered out from an alcove, flanked by two of his cohorts.
"Well, boys. It seems we've found our 'quick-fix', haven't we?" The one with a thick red beard chuckled low, a cruel grin plastered on his face. His friends nodded.
"These two will be enough ta get us free an' clear o' Ferelden, that they will," one said.
"Maybe if we pretty them up a bit, we'll get a few more sovereigns, no?" The other pitched in.
Keelan kept her eyes on the three humans in front of her; instinctively she stepped in front of Shianni, slowly moving backwards, away from these people. Keelan knew she was reckless; people told her that all the time, but she wasn't stupid. Whatever these humans were talking about, it meant something very bad for her and Shianni.
The bearded man took several long strides toward Keelan, reaching out to grab her arm. Keelan ducked to the side, pushing her cousin back.
"Run, Shianni!"
The pair bolted, tearing back down to the Alienage; to safety. Keelan cried out when a hand snatched her by her hair, yanking her back roughly. She screamed when her captor grabbed Shianni's arm, because she had stopped to help her cousin. Keelan snarled protectively, snapping back her elbow into the man's nose. She heard a sickening crunch and a spray of hot blood on her arm. He dropped them both and Keelan wasted no time in helping Shianni to her feet, shoving her toward home.
"You little knife-eared bitch," the red-beard man choked, blood pouring from his nose. One of his friends, a dark-haired man, rushed Keelan, ignoring Shianni, catching the back of her dress in an iron grip. He twisted her around and delivered her a sharp backhanded slap. Keelan fell the the ground with a cry; stars danced across her vision as she lay there, deciding it was best not to fight right now.
"Y'all right there, Thoms?" Dark-haired man turned to red-beard.
"Yeah mate, she got me good." He loomed over Keelan's prone form, smirking, "You aren't getting away this time, runt."
As he was reaching down to pick her up, something struck him soundly in the back of the head. He teetered over Keelan and would have fallen, except someone caught him by the scruff and threw him backwards. Keelan's eyes widened in both absolute fear and tremendous relief when she recognized her mother standing where red-beard had been.
"Get away from her, len'alas lath'din!" Adaia snarled menacingly, rolling her shoulders; her piercing eyes flamed amazement.
The humans glared at her, "You realize what you've done, elf? Yeh, you attacked one of us? You attacked a human! You're gonna go down for a long time, bitch, once the guards hear of this."
Adaia chuckled humorlessly, "You can't tell them if you're dead. Emma shem'nan. No one will miss two-bit slavers preying on children."
The not-dark-haired human turned tail to run as the other reached for a dagger; Adaia launched after him with all the ferocity one would expect of a mother protecting her child.
Keelan watched in awe as she watched her mother's striking speed and agility in taking down an armed human; gracefully shifting her position when red-beard rejoined the scrap. It seemed effortless and natural. It was... inspiring. One day, Keelan imagined herself just like her mother. Confident, skilled, tough, and a force to be reckoned with.
When Adaia stood over her vanquished foes, turning a baleful eye on her daughter, Keelan swallowed hard. Suddenly she remembered that her mother had an uncanny ability to strike fear in the hearts of all. She quickly strode over to Keelan; for a moment it seemed she was unsure whether she should be angry or relieved. In the end, Adaia embraced her daughter, clutching her so tightly as if she might disappear. Keelan wrapped her arms around her mother, shaking slightly as the shock of it all began to wear off.
"Mother..." she tried to begin. Her mother only squeezed her more tightly.
"I am so glad you're safe, emm'asha, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."
"I'm sorry mother, I'm so sorry."
Her mother pulled away, giving her the sternest of looks, "I warned you not to come this far without me. You put Shianni in danger, you put yourself in danger. You're lucky I was already out looking for you when she found me."
Keelan hung her head. She was ashamed. Sullenly, she marveled at how well parents wielded guilt against their children.
"Come on, let's go home."
Keelan paused when she came to a stream too wide to jump. She cursed her luck colourfully in the darkness when she found no quick way through or around the obstruction. Naturally the thought to simply swim the distance had crossed her mind, but her thin clothing and the bracing chill of Harvestmere pursuaded her otherwise.
"My luck is cursed, certainly," she droned sourly.
"I would say so at that," Keelan whirled around at that all too familiar rumble. Duncan stood on the rocks just a few feet above her; his penetrating gaze boring into her. She swallowed hard; frozen to the spot like a rabbit before a fox.
"Duncan..." was all she could muster up. She saw, then, the crossbow he held in his hands.
"Where do you think you would go?"
Keelan snorted, "If you're going to shoot me, human, then shoot me." At that, Duncan shouldered the weapon, cocking his head at her. "Ostagar isn't my problem. This war you're dragging me into is not my problem."
"You would rather have suffered the abuses of an agrieved father in Denerim's dungeons?"
"No!" she threw up her hands, "I should have run to the Dalish when I had the chance! Why didn't you let me go?"
"You would not have made it far. I found you; the city has many fine scouts. They would have tracked you down before you could manage to find the Dalish," Duncan explained calmly.
"What about my- the wedding?" she grimaced at the memory of Nelaros on the floor; his gut splayed open with blood pouring from the wounds and from his mouth like the river at her heels. As he lay dying he gave her the ring he said he made. She wanted to forget, yet she wore the ring on her finger as if it meant something. "Why didn't you stop the Arl's son?"
"Grey Wardens cannot interfere-"
"Bullshit! You gave Nelaros and Soris weapons, you prevented the guards from taking me. So don't spoon-feed me that garbage." In the corner of her mind she could sense her body positioning itself for a fight.
"I needed a Grey Warden recruit, and I found one," the levelness in his voice pushed Keelan over the edge. He doesn't even regret his part in this!
"This was your plan?" the wave of scenarios and implications washed over her mind. "Did you let them take me.. to see if I could get out? Has that been your game, shemlen? People died! Shianni-" Keelan cut the thought short, turning her head aside in fury.
"Not entirely," Duncan sighed. "I could not interfere directly, though I will not deny that I was curious to see if you would live up to your potential."
"My potential..."
"Yes. You are the daughter of Adaia Tabris. If you recall, I told you that I attempted to recruit your mother into the Wardens, except Valendrian pursuaded me that raising a family was more important to her at the moment. Since there was no Blight, there was no immediate need for Grey Wardens.
"You, on the other hand, may live to serve a greater purpose. You possess your mother's skills, and a greater potential. You cut a swath through trained castle guards to reach your family and your friends; you have suffered because of it, yet you remain strong and in your own mind. Consider that not many would have made it thus far without your abilities."
Keelan shook her head, still desperate to run, "I am still just a child; I butchered only a handful of guards, those who I caught unawares. Maker, I poisoned more than I killed. Now you want me to fight a war against.. darkspawn? Some ancient evil that I have no idea how to fight?"
"Yes. Don't worry; you'll learn." He smiled with cheek.
"I don't want to learn. Don't you understand that? I don't want any of this."
Duncan frowned at her vehemence.
"I am afraid that is not your choice anymore. You have been conscripted into the Grey Wardens; it is this, or return home and confront your fate. With us, you have a chance to fight for Ferelden, for Thedas." He paused, a thoughtful look passing his features before he continued, "Consider this: the Blight will spread if we do not stop the darkspawn at Ostagar. They will swarm Ferelden, burning, killing, and devestating even the soil itself as they go. Sooner or later, they will reach Denerim. They will not think twice before butchering your kin before moving on to all of Thedas."
Keelan paled at the imagery. As much as she loathed to admit it, Duncan was right. She may not be able to protect her family directly, but she could keep them safe from this Blight. Keelan hated the idea that Duncan had used her tragedy against her, but in truth, had there been any choice? He used what he could to his advantage. In the end, this worked in both of their favors: she stayed out of the dungeons and certain death, still able to help her family in some way, and he got his precious Grey Warden to fight his precious little war.
How fantastic.
"Bastard shem and your blighted..Blight." She curled her lip, "Fine. It's not like I have anywhere else to go..."
'Acceptance of the inevitable was never a childs strongsuit', as her mother used to say. Though to be fair, she was referring to baths and bedtimes.
A loud crash startled Keelan. She gasped, clutching her blanket close to her chest with one hand while instinctively reaching for her makeshift cudgel. She heard several people enter her house.
"Stay low, stay quiet, Keelan. You hear me?" Her mother whispered, dirk in hand. Keelan nodded silently.
"Ehi! You knife-ear'ed bitch! You think you can beat on our mates and not pay the price?" one intruder shouted. Adaia flashed her blade.
"Leave my home, now," she replied, low and steady. The human in front shook his head.
"We aren't leavin' till we get what we came for."
Adaia flowed around the man when he lunged for her, cracking the back of his head with her elbow. She twisted, catching the second's forearm, effectively blocking the shortswords path to her. She socked him in the eye, slipping around to his side to kick the third man in the gut. Adaia met their attacks skillfully, turning their blades away from her, slowly forcing them away from her family.
Keelan once again watched her mother with a reverence, her fathers grip on her shoulders the only thing holding her back from standing by her mothers side. Except this time, everything came to a screeching halt when she heard a sickening squelch followed by a woman's cry. Keelan's blood ran cold as her adolescent mind struggled to put the pieces together; that the heart-wrenching cry she heard had come from her mother. Keelan screamed as her father called out to his wife. The humans stood around her as the blood pooled from her midsection. The one with the sword responsible turned his head to Keelan; his eyes cold and without regret.
"You knife-ears should learn your place, I'd hate to make two trips." With that, the group of humans left their shack in silence. As soon as they left, Keelan and her father scrambled over to her mothers side.
"My love... Adaia.. Keelan, rouse the Hahren; get a healer-" Keelan nodded fervently, bolting to find the Alienage elder. She came back with all the speed she could muster, with the Hahren Valendrian following close behind.
Adaia lay curled in Cyrion's arms, caressing his cheek as she murmured soothing words to her husband. Cyrion was holding her, hanging on her every word, nodding at pointless endearing instructions. He understood the gravity of her wounds; only magic would save her, and who would spare a mage on an elf? That is if they could get one here in time.
Cyrion let his tears fall freely; he was lost. Adaia was the star that guided him; this woman who awakened him, lighting that spark of life that only she could find with her roguish ways. She could quell his fears, soothe his aches and pains, and she bore him a beautiful daughter. A wonderful mother and a wife without equal; Adaia had run their home, traveled beyond Denerim on her adventures, and was more than capable of handling herself. This... he glanced at his hand, slick with her blood, this was.. consequence.
Keelan threw herself by her mothers side with Valendrian. Her mother turned to her daughter, taking her hand with a weak smile.
"Da'mi," her mother murmured the Dalish pet name Keelan had earned years ago. "You'll be a brave girl, won't you? Be strong for your father, for Shianni and Soris."
"Mamae, this is all my fault, I'm so sorry-" her mother squeezed her hand gently.
"No, Keelan," she coughed, taking in ragged, wheezing breaths. "This was no one's fault but my own, do you understand?" Keelan nodded in despair before turning to Valendrian, who kneeled at her side, giving Adaia a knowing glance.
"Can't you help her, Elder? Please, you must save her, there must be a way-"
"Oh, da'mi. Acceptance of the inevitable is never a childs strongsuit; death is just another path... one that we all must take." Her breathing started to labour more intensely, gasping for air. "I.. love you. I lo- ove you my- child, an- and you, Cyrion, e-mma sa'lath, my love..." With a few more gasping breaths, Adaia stilled, and all there was...
... was silence.
