From that eventful night, six months went by rather quickly, and Telin showed signs of improvement with each day. At the two months mark, she had finally mastered both reading and writing (despite the fact that Athras kept referring to her handwriting as the result of a nug having a seizure); at three months in her training, she was able to headshot a moving target (which earned her a week of free drinks from the elf after she lost the bet); at four she was able to stalk a target through the city without getting caught – or lost. That had been her real first assignment, but Telin preferred to refer to it as a trial run since both Athras and Simmons had followed her the whole time. At five, she had become a proficient member of the Kirkwall society, able to blend in with the uppers thanks to her studied background, as well as roam with the downers. Simmons was weirdly proud of her ability to remember almost all the names of the most important of people and families across Thedas. At the clocking of the sixth, she was officially ready to go on a solo mission.

Simmons had told her he had nothing more to teach her, and Athras had shared everything she could about archery – plus a few trick with daggers in case she found herself too close to the melee.

Melchor, on his part, had kept a close eye on her, always making sure to check up on her progresses, buying her the books she had oh-so-adamantly demanded in exchange for her trust. He felt kind of liberated to see her blossom into her new position, but at the same time worried for her mental health. It was traumatic enough to lose your home, but losing a whole world? He couldn't even begin to comprehend. That silver of dread that had settled in his stomach had never left him in those six month, growing even stronger when news of the new King and Queen had started to trickle in from Ferelden; she had been right. On all of it.

Loghain was dead, killed in a duel.

The Warden had received the aid they needed, and now sat squarely upon the Thrones of Ferelden.

King Alistair Theirin and Queen Elissa Cousland, a match to behold.

Telin had been most relieved to hear that, the news confirming that she might not be going crazy after all. Not that it disregarded the notion completely, of course, but it was a step forward, especially since no new visions of that magnitude came to her following the one.

Sometimes she would come across something or someone that triggered her brain, but it was always just snippets of pictures or pieces of conversation that made no sense by themselves.

At present, what had her slightly curious but mildly on edge, was that her mind seemed to be triggered more often than not when she was around a very specific dwarf.

Telin had bumped into him quite some times while out in the city, and at some point her handlers had conceded her the chance to swing by the Hanged Man – which was, very surprisingly, exactly the same as she had seen it in her mind – to have a drink with Varric. By now the dwarf had grown accustomed to her seemingly harmless moments of blanking out, but had never tried to pry, for which she was grateful since it would have been difficult for her to explain that she was kind of probably seeing his life unfold in front of her eyes. Yeah, that would certainly make for some uncomfortably awkward conversation.

Sadly, she hadn't got much time to figure out what was of Varric Tethras that seem to tickle her mind, because her training soon got very intense, leaving her no time to go play with the dwarf. It had been three months since she had seen him, all her time spent out in the field working with Athras (and sometimes Melchor, which still unnerved her, but that was an entirely different story altogether), leaving her with barely any personal time that she spent either sleeping, writing on her new journal, and bathing.

But now, freedom was afoot.

The qunari had called her in his office – because yes, he even had a office, it turned out – along with her handlers, and announced her that she was to go off solo.

"There are some goods we've been hired to recover; problem is, we don't know which warehouse they've stored them in. You need to get that information by the Harbourmaster, he'll have the papers with all the records of the shipments. How you manage to get that info is up to you, Telin. You have to look for this specific seal, here. Once you've located the warehouse, get in and recover the goods. Avoid looking inside the cache, if you can. Our clients appreciate their privacy." Melchor told her, handing over a piece of parchment on which a seal was drawn in charcoal.

Telin hoped colours weren't an essential part to tell it apart from another.

"How much time do I have?" she asked after folding the sheet and securing it in one of her armour's pockets.

"Three days. After that, the goods will be shipped out" he replied.

Telin nodded.

"Off you go, then. I'll be waiting" he exhorted her, a small, proud, smile tugging at his lips.

The whole way from the Hideout to the Dock's, Telin walked with a sense of dread chained to her feet. Self doubt was a hard bitch to deal with, even after six month of hard training in preparation for that very moment. All other members of the Guild had had years in the business, had been born in Thedas, had learnt how to fight probably since they were way younger than she was. And even though, there she was, with her bow strapped to her back along with the quiver, wearing hard leather armour and a glowing tattoo on her forearm, marking her as an active member of the most famous – and probably most powerful guild in the whole city-state.

Deep breaths, Telin, deep breaths.

As she moved lazily through the streets of the city, careful not to seem on a rush or to give off the wrong impression with her weapons strapped to her back, Telin imposed her mind to conjure what she remembered of the docks. She had passed through on more than one occasion with Athras, and the woman had taken care to instruct her about every nook and cranny of the place; now all she had to do, was remembering them.

The Docks came into view as she stepped down the last set of stairs; the banks stretched for hundred of meters, with ships parked all over. People were running everywhere, and a ruckus of voices and other sounds overshadowed each other in the general organized chaos.

The first thing she noticed besides the crowds, was the acrid smell of rotting fish and salty waters, a mix that acutely reminded her that she was a long way from home.

With one last sweep across the entrance to the Docks, Telin side stepped in the shadows, melting together with the walls and people moving about.

She bit her lower lip as she studied the people, torturing the skin in an attempt to concentrate. This was full rush hour, and she was reminded of the only one other time she had been overwhelmed by the number of people in one place, though where or when escaped her.

More memories that had slipped away. She sighed. It was getting more and more difficult to remember things from home, as time went by. In the six months that had passed since her arrival, she had started to write down whatever she could recall, and on some occasions she had even spent nights with Melchor, telling him things in hope that, if she ever forgot them, he could remember them for her.

On some days the nostalgia was too much, and Telin could physically feel the pain that came with the separation, with the knowledge that she would never know what had happened to her and her world. On those days, Athras seemed to take extra care in giving her the most intense training that she could, and Telin was grateful to stop thinking further than her bow. She still couldn't say if she had warmed up a bit to the elf, or if Athras simply liked to beat her with a stick, but whatever the case, Telin could work with it.

A shout from somewhere below caught her attention, and her eyes skimmed over the crowd to identify the source of the extra loudness; a man dressed in finery was screaming at a young boy, his elven ears red with shame. Telin grimaced at the scene, and when she saw the man raise his hand to strike the boy, her body reacted faster than her mind; she draw her bow, knocked an arrow, and let it loose directly at the feet of the asshole, who yelped loud enough for the whole docks to hear him. She smirked in self-satisfaction as she slipped away in the shadows.

By the time the man had found enough composure to look for the would-be-assassin, Telin was long gone.

With quick steps she veered inside the opening on the right side of the stairs, where she knew the Harbormaster had his things sat up. He was the man she needed, but she was not so foolish to believe he would give her the information easily or free of charge. She was going to need something to bribe him with. Money was out of the question, she had very little to her name - the Guild had taken care of basically anything she could need up until now - and she was so not going to invest it in an unsafe bet like that one. There weren't really many other alternatives, but she was going to try nonetheless. If worst came to worst, she could always sneak in at night and steal what she needed.

With a confidence she wasn't really feeling, she strolled out of the shadow, heading towards two men standing by a table.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for the Harbormaster, could you point me in the right direction?" she asked once she was in their sight, making sure that they were looking at her.

"You found him already, lass. What can I help you with?" the man with the finer clothes replied, arms crossed over his chest. His words were far more polite than his stance, for sure. The other man barely spared her a glance before returning to his work.

"My boss sent me to retrieve a package, said it came in with an Orlesian Port Authority Seal. Problem is, I don't know which warehouse it's stored in. I was told you were the man to ask, Serrah" she explained, taking extra care in avoiding any mention of the Guild.

Melchor hadn't said anything about secrecy, but she thought that a certain level of discretion was probably needed; maybe not for the Guild itself, but for the client that had hired them.

"Aye, and so I am. But what tells me that you're not just some common thief, uh?" the Master rebuked, his pose getting even more defensive if possible.

"I assure you Serrah, I'm no thief. If I were, I would have gotten the information I needed without coming through you" Telin argued, a soft smile on her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes.

This definitely wasn't like home, where a young girl could bat her eyelashes a couple times and obtain what she needed. Also, being armored and armed probably didn't help the whole harmless little girl image.

"That may be true, but you know what lass? I think I forgot what you wanted" he quipped, smirking in satisfaction at his oh-so-clever tactic.

Telin scowled internally, her polite façade unmoving.

So that was it, it seemed.

"A package with an Orlesian Port Authority Seal, Serrah. Is the sun affecting you? Maybe you should take a break if you forget things so easily" she replied cheekily, giving off a vibe of fake innocence.

Two can play at this game, she scoffed to herself.

"Don't be cheeky with me brat, I ain't got time to waste" the Harbormaster scoffed at her, turning to leave at her refusal to give in to his request.

Telin's hand darted to his forearm, grabbing it tightly.

When the man turned to glare at her, she simply smiled.

"That makes two of us. I have a job to do, and no time to play games. Now, you can either give me the information I need, or I can put a knife in your kidney and you'll be dead before you can scream. What will it be?" Telin droned impassively, the smile unwavering on her lips.

This man was making her understand why Athras was always so bitter and violent around people, and she wasn't even an elf.

"You wouldn't dare in broad daylight!" he hissed at her, the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead a dead giveaway to his discomfort.

Good, at least he was taking her seriously.

"Oh, I can be gone before you hit the ground. Want to try me?"

He glared down at her, opening his mouth to say something, and then stilled. His eyes travelled from her face to his side, where her other hand was firmly pressing a small, sharp, knife right over his right kidney. When his eyes returned to hers, she arched her eyebrows suggestively.

"Fine!" he snapped, tugging at his harm to get away from her. He stumbled a bit backwards, then moved quickly to the table to retrieve the papers.

"Here, take the blasted thing! It ain't worth dying for!" he said, shoving the piece of paper in her hands.

"Thank you, Serrah. You were most helpful" Telin replied, bowing mockingly before leaving.

Before the Harbormaster could change his mind, she slipped once more in the shadows, where she proceeded to have a major panic attack.

Her hands were shaking, clutching at the paper like a life line; she could feel cold sweat drip down her back despite the thick humid air, and she had to try hard not to vomit the contents of her stomach.

She had almost killed a man.

I almost killed a man!

God, how could the people of this world do this so casually? It was terrifying to bluff like that, and even more so when you were bluffing on another person's life. She wasn't sure she could get used to it…

You'll have to. No time for a conscience when someone's trying to put a blade through you.

Athras voice echoed in her brain, and Telin released her tension in one long, shaky, breath. She was right. But the longer she could avoid killing another person, the better it was.

When she was sure she wouldn't throw up, and her hands had stopped shaking frantically, she looked at the piece of paper now all crumpled.

She was still a bit rusty with her reading, but at least the meaning came quite easily; and if she wasn't mistaken, her cargo was stored in a Woodrow's Warehouse to the east.

Finding the Warehouse turned out be easier than expected; getting in, though, that was gonna require some planning. Guards were posted in front of the door; three armed men that looked bored enough to be dangerous. No visible second entrance that she could see at first glance.

Now, she could either go look for one, or wait out the guards –frontal approach was out of discussion.

She mused on it for a while as she rested casually, with her back on a wall across from the guarded entrance, and then came to the conclusion that she could do both; if there was no other way in, then she'd wait for nightfall and sneak in past the guards.

She pushed herself away from the crumbling wall, dusted her leathers, and inconspicuously strolled away. From the front there was no way of telling if the building connected to the adjoined ones, so Telin decided for the quickest route: get up on the roof and look down on the other side. Now, that required some tactfulness, and more importantly, a way up.

Making sure her expression remained as neutral as possible, she let her eyes roam the rooftops as she descended the stairs to the last stretch of the docks, where a ship was waiting to sail for the Gallows. Nasty place, that one. A little shudder run down her spine at the memory of what she had learned about it, and she reminded herself that she was in no rush to go and visit.

When her feet touched the ground, her eyes fell on a narrow dead end next to another warehouse.

Jackpot.

She tried to look as nonchalant as possible as she headed towards the dank alley, sparing just a quick glance to her back once she was safely hidden.

No one seemed to have taken notice of her or her intentions, which was exactly what she wanted.

She studied the haggard wall for a few seconds, spotting a couple good perches she could use to climb up.

Oh, if only her six month earlier self could have been there to see her now! She would have never been able to do any of that, then!

A rush of adrenaline pumped in her veins, and before she could even process it, she was crouching on top of the first building. She looked around again, barely suppressing her surprise when she found a wooden ladder abandoned next to her.

Someone must have used it to make some repairs, and lucky her, had left it there.

Speed was key in not being noticed, so she recovered the ladder and propped it against the wall. It didn't go all the way up to the roof, but just above its end was a window.

How nice. It's like the universe it's trying to smooth things out for me, she pondered amusedly as she started to climb up, two rungs at a time. When she reached the end, she gave herself a push and jumped up to grab the windowsill, pulling herself up. She repeated the motion to reach the upper one, and then once again to get to the roof's edge.

Maybe I should use Auditore as a surname, she mused with a chuckle as she climbed up; when she almost lost her footing, she went white as a ghost.

Or maybe I should just shut up…

Once she was safely on the flat surface of the roof, she moved quickly to her left, glancing down to make sure she was standing over the right one. She got a glimpse of the guards, so she turned and headed for the opposite direction. Where the roof ended, she could see water; if the building finished in the sea, she was without a way in. Carefully, she crouched down near the edge and looked down; good thing she wasn't that afraid of heights anymore, uh? But her sacrifices were rewarded when she spotted a wooden deck peek out from the building, meaning there effectively was a secondary way in other than the main door.

As she got up, calculating her odds at landing on the wooden platform instead that in the water, the sound of a skirmish reached her ears.

Was someone fighting inside?

Not good. Definitely not good! She yelled inside her head, all caution thrown to the wind in a single moment.

There was no telling that whoever was fighting wasn't there looking for the same thing she was, or, alternatively, wouldn't destroy her target in their skirmish. She had to hurry!

A stream of curses rushed out of her mouth as she lowered herself from the roof, praying to whatever entity was out there that she landed right.

She closed her eyes, took a deep, deep, breath, and let go of the edge.

The noise of her fall – broken by the pier, fortunately, and not the water – attracted the attention of whoever was inside.

The fight stilled for a moment, all that Telin needed to recover herself, but all eyes turned towards the new intruder.

"Riddle?!" a voice asked in disbelief, and her eyes immediately snapped to the source, where she found a familiar dwarf with strawberry blond hair firing a crossbow.

"Varric?!" Telin asked with the same amount of stupor, mouth hanging open in shock.

"You mind, Varric? We kind of are in the middle of something, here!" another voice yelled from a bit further inside, and the girl's attention immediately zeroed on the new figure.

Jet black hair tied in a untidy ponytail, crystal blue eyes and a splatter of red on the nose.

A staff in hand, magic pooling on the fingertips.

"Hawke?" the word left her lips before she could even process it, and her brain instantly reacted.

The world went black for a moment, a massive amount of images and information piling up in her head as a lock came undone, and when it came back into focus, she was already fainting.