Note: Sorry about the formatting issue, I genuinely didn't check. Thanks for pointing it out!
"Come on, aren't you done yet?"
Nathaniel rolled his eyes, as Bethany continued to browse the weapon merchant's shop. Yara stood in the doorway, shaking her head. It was supposed to have been a short trip to Amaranthine to restock supplies, yet all hopes of a quick return had been dashed when Bethany had laid eyes on the merchant's staff collection.
"It's not easy to find a decent staff," Bethany chided, running her finger along the different woods. "And I'm quite sick of using glorified tree-branches. Now I can finally get something worth my while!"
Yara laughed. The mage was like a child in a sweetshop, wide-eyed and spoilt for choice.
"They all do the same job, surely," Nathaniel grumbled.
"I could say the same for your pithy bows," Bethany spat. "They're all the same, right? Just pull the string and…"
"Of course not!" Nathaniel's cheeks flushed. "They all have different grips, string tensions, counter-weights, and certain woods have different…"
"Then you'll understand every mage has a staff that suits them best, as well," Yara broke in. "But seriously, you've been here for over an hour, Beth. You'll have to make a decision sometime."
"But I can't choose between the pinewood Archangel, the red oak Kingstave or the ironwood Ashsear!" Bethany whined. She glanced between the staffs once more, then turned to the merchant. "What's the best price you can give me for all three?"
Nathaniel groaned, holding his head in his hands. Yara chuckled. It was endearing to see Bethany in a more upbeat mood for a change. She'd not taken well to recruiting, and her tainted dreams had started to resurface as well. It was fortunate that Alistair had given them some lighter duties to take her mind off things.
As Bethany continued to barter, Yara yawned, leaning against the door-frame. Something in her pack dug into her hip, and she scowled. Shuffling the pack off her shoulder, she foraged inside for the offending item. The mysterious dagger came to her hand, and she bit her lip. She'd been hoping to take it to the blacksmith, but with Nathaniel rushing them, she'd thought it best to leave for another time. However, since Bethany was so overwhelmed right now…
"Hey, Nathaniel, mind waiting a bit longer?" Yara asked, letting the dagger drop into her bag. "There's something I need to do really quickly."
"You can't leave me with Bethany's out of control spending spree," Nathaniel growled. "Where are you off to, anyway?"
"Just to see the smith," Yara said. "Don't worry, I don't want to buy anything. I just need my sword hilt re-tipping."
Nathaniel ground his teeth, glancing to Bethany. She remained deep in conversation with the merchant. Eventually he let out a breath, shaking his head.
"Alright, but you'd better not take long," he warned. "If Alistair complains about how late we're going to be…"
"Thanks!" Yara didn't wait for him to finish and hurried out of the shop.
Almost at once she was swarmed by the crowd, so she crept through the smaller alleys towards the master smith's workshop. Amaranthine remained as busy as ever, and it had changed very little during her absence. The storms had come back in full force, too, leaving puddles in the cobbled streets. The darkening clouds and moist scent promised more rain, so Yara drew up her hood. She didn't want to get caught in a downpour again.
When she came to the main gates, she paused. A deep longing washing over her, and she sighed, fingering her pendant chain. How easy it would be to slip through and visit Viren and Eliza again, but she knew better than to try Nathaniel's patience further. Besides, it would take several hours to reach their house on foot. She would have to save that trip for another time, after Vigil's Keep had been restored to its former glory.
Finally, after weaving between carts and horses and politely turning down the offers of various street vendors, Yara reached her destination. Master Allen's workshop was by far the biggest building in the merchant's quarter, laden with the scent of smoke and iron. Yara had met him once before, and he'd crafted her current blades when she'd started to retrain. He was a taciturn man, preferring to listen rather than speak, but Yara knew he had contacts all over Thedas. If anyone could trace the story behind the dagger, it would be him. Perhaps then she'd be able to make sense of the Antivan man's warning, too.
Pushing open the oak door, Yara entered the front of the workshop. Her eyes watered from the smoke, and she forced back a cough as she stepped towards the front counter. She made to ring the bell, but then a blonde-haired boy poked his head from under the desk.
"Can I help?" he asked.
"I was wondering if I could speak to Master Allen?" Yara said. "Is he around?"
"He's not serving customers right now," the boy answered. "But if you want to buy a blade, I can show you what we've got?"
"Actually, I wanted his opinion on a weapon," Yara replied. "If he's not around, though, I'll come back another time."
She turned, meaning to leave, when the doors opened and a young girl walked in. The girl pulled back her hood, her brown curls falling out, and slung her bag off her shoulder. Their eyes met, and Yara gasped. She'd recognise those midnight blue irises anywhere.
"Eliza?"
The girl stared for a moment, puzzled, but then her eyes lit up.
"Maker's breath, is that you, Yara?"
Yara broke into a smile, and Eliza dropped her bag. She tackled Yara in a hug, and Yara laughed, returning the embrace. It seemed her wish had come true after all.
"Oh Maker, it's so good to see you!" Eliza withdrew, noting Yara's uniform. "I see you're with the Wardens again. Are you stationed at the Vigil now?"
"I am, yes," Yara said. "You look well. How's your father?"
"I'm good, and he's the same as ever," Eliza said, smirking. "I'm just helping him on his rounds today." She rubbed the back of her neck. "Maker, we have so much catching up to do! That is, unless you have to return to the Keep..."
Before Yara could answer, the boy behind the counter caught his breath. He vaulted the desk and stopped at Eliza's side. Yara blinked.
"Ah, you're with Healer Viren?" he asked. "My uncle's been in so much pain, you need to see him right away!"
"Master Allen's not well?" Yara raised a concerned brow.
"Oh, it's just a bit of gout," Eliza said dismissively. "Damned painful I know, but nothing one of Father's tonics won't fix."
"Then hurry up and give it to him!" The boy tugged at Eliza's hand, and she rolled her eyes. She flashed Yara an apologetic smile, but before the boy could drag her into the workshop, a man approached from the smoky shadows. He had broad-shoulders, and his auburn hair was unruly. He was also walking with a limp, unwilling to put pressure on his left foot.
"Cai, don't be so rude," he said in a deep baritone. At once the boy released Eliza, and Master Allen bowed. "My apologies, Miss Eliza, but thank you for stopping by. I wouldn't have called, but this flare seems particularly bad, and I've a lot of commissions to finish."
"It's no problem, Master Allen," Eliza said. She returned to her discarded bag, then produced a bottle filled with pale liquid. Master Allen took it gratefully, when his gaze fell to Yara. Recognition slowly dawned, and he gave a polite nod.
"Good to see you again, Miss Yara," he greeted. "I see you've taken up with the Wardens now. How are those blades working for you? Do they need fixing up?"
"Oh no, they're still going strong," Yara answered, impressed that the smith remembered her. "But I had something else I wanted your advice on."
"Oh?" Master Allen pulled out a stool and sat, relieved to take the weight off his foot. "Not sure if I can help, but I'll try my best."
Yara pulled her pack off her shoulders and brought out the dagger.
"Can you tell me anything about this?" She offered it hilt-first, and Master Allen clasped his fingers around it. He examined it carefully, checking its weight, grip and edge, and murmured to himself.
"It's a fine dagger indeed," he commented, turning it over. "Antivan made, for an assassin's hand." He returned it to Yara. "I hope that was given as a token, my dear, and not as spoils. For it's not every day one can say they own a weapon made for an Antivan Crow."
Yara's jaw dropped. She looked to the dagger in disbelief. She knew of the famed assassin guild, but that made her encounter in the Deep Roads even more confusing. What was an Antivan Crow doing down there? Further, how had a lowly assassin known about her lost memories? And why had he threatened that recovering them would come at a great cost?
Just what darkness still lay within her past...
"Careful who you show that to," Master Allen went on. "Even if their assassins fail, which they rarely do, such things are still considered the property of the Crows. Some can take quite drastic measures to see them returned."
"I see." Yara returned the dagger to her pack. "Thank you, Master Allen. I hope you get well soon."
Master Allen chuckled. "As do I, girl. But Healer Viren's medicines have yet to disappoint me, so I think I'll be in good hands." He reached into his pocket, and tossed Eliza several silver coins. "Give your father my best regards, Miss Eliza. And take care, Miss Yara. Should you or the Wardens need any blade-work doing, please come and talk to me."
"I'll let the Warden-Commander know," Yara said. Both she and Eliza bowed, then left the workshop.
Yara took a breath, glad to be back in fresher air, although it did little to clear her mind. Once again her answers lay buried within more questions, and she was frustrated she couldn't make the pieces fit together. It was as if something were blocking her thoughts, preventing her from seeing the patterns she knew existed. She would have to tell everything to Bethany on their return to the keep.
"So, do you have to rush back?" Eliza asked, breaking Yara's thoughts. "It would be nice to catch up over some tea."
Yara sighed.
"I'd love to, Eliza, but I'm already pushing my luck being here," she said. "I'm not moving from Vigil's Keep, though, so send me a message if you're in town. I'm sure Alistair won't miss me if I give him some notice."
"Alistair?" Eliza repeated.
"He's the Warden-Commander," Yara answered.
"Ah, I think I might've seen him when he first came to the keep," Eliza said. "He seems a nice guy." She flashed Yara a wink. "So you're on first name terms with him already, hmm? That sounds promising."
"Oh don't start," Yara scoffed. "We all call him that."
"Is that so? Well, you're going to have to tell me all about it," Eliza laughed. "I mean let's face it, you're not getting any younger, and..."
"There you are!"
Yara spun around, only to face Bethany's stern glare. The mage stormed across the street, a new staff across her back, and her hands on her hips. Nathaniel was no-where to be seen.
"Nathaniel's not happy," Bethany said. "He's loading the carts, and he said he's not going to wait for us if we're not there when he finishes."
"Look who's talking," Yara chided. "I'm not the one who spent an hour and a half fawning over staffs."
Bethany's cheeks reddened. "Well you never said you wanted to see the blacksmith!"
"And come between a mage and her power? I'm not that foolish," Yara teased. Bethany pouted, and Eliza laughed. The mage turned to her, bemused. Yara put her arm around Eliza's shoulders. "Oh, let me introduce you. This is Healer Viren's daughter, Eliza. Eliza, this is my friend Bethany."
"Nice to meet you," Eliza said, offering her hand.
Bethany blinked, for a moment caught off-guard. Most of the other Amaranthine citizens had given her a wide berth; something that hadn't gone unnoticed.
"It's nice to shake someone's hand when it's offered," Yara murmured, nudging Bethany. The mage scowled at her, before she took Eliza's hand.
"Ah, it's lovely to meet you as well," Bethany said, recovering from her daze. "Yara's spoken very highly of you and your father. She has a lot to thank you for."
"She certainly kept us busy," Eliza said, "but I'm glad to see she's doing well, and keeping good company, too."
Bethany lowered her gaze. Yara raised a brow.
"Something wrong, Beth?" she asked.
"Sorry," Bethany answered, her voice quiet. "I'm...just not used to..."
"Being treated as a person?" Eliza finished. Bethany remained silent, but her eyes betrayed her feelings. "It's alright." Eliza gave the mage's staff a gentle tap. "The Templars may have a lot of sympathizers here, but I'm not one of them." She eyed Yara slyly. "You know, forget what I said about the Warden-Commander. She's way cuter."
Yara's face blossomed. "Eliza! What...we're not...you know..."
"We're just friends!" Bethany said, the colour of her cheeks rivalling Yara's.
"Oh, of course you are," Eliza said, her eyes still glinting mischievously. "It's good to know I can still wind you up so easily, Yara."
Yara rolled her eyes.
"Cheeky girl!" She gave Eliza a playful poke. Eliza giggled. Even Bethany found her smile returning, and Yara wondered if Eliza had made her comment on purpose.
"Well, I'd best not keep you," Eliza said. "Wouldn't want your boss to get angry." She gave Yara another hug. "Let me know when you're around the city again, and I'll come running."
"I will," Yara said. "Give Viren my best, as well."
"Will do." Eliza bowed to Bethany. "Nice talking with you, Bethany. I'm sure I'll see you again as well."
"Farewell," Bethany said. With a wave, Eliza vanished into the crowd. Once she was gone, Yara let out a breath. She turned to the mage, who was staring somewhat wistfully. Quickly though Bethany shook off her expression.
"You alright?" Yara asked.
"She's really something, isn't she," Bethany said, though Yara did catch a hint of hurt in her eyes. "Amber was just the same..." Before she'd get caught in her memories, the mage shook her head and clasped Yara's shoulder. "Come on, let's get to Nathaniel before he bites our heads off even more."