Can you believe I searched for my journal for half an hour before I found it right where I left it? It was sitting right on top of the desk.

Anyway. Today had an exciting moment. I kept Ethelathe today. Isn't that interesting phrasing? I was corrected that we don't "hold" Ethelathe, which would make sense to me. Ethelathe isn't a place. It's just IN a place. Okay. Not exactly sure what that means, but I don't speak Elvish so what do I know.

Back to the subject. About midday, while I was feeding the boys their lunch, there was a KNOCK on the DOOR. And when I went closer to it, I started shivering. Oh, shit, I was thinking. You understand, I'm sure. So I bade the boys get behind the door real quick and opened it just enough to look through with one eye. There stood this mountain of a man in shiny Templar armor. I was terrified and cold at this point. He looked me dead square in the eyes and asked if I knew the Kwisatch Haderach! OMG! He's a dislocated soul!

He'd been grooming his horse in the stables and heard Gethon and Feren joking about my joke slogan: "The breach must be sealed, the divine must be avenged, and the spice must flow!" He followed Feren when he brought the boys and me our midday. (Feren's going to be pissed that he was so clumsy as to lead a Templar to our house.) He dislocated out of 1980's Montana and was a farm boy going to high school when he was dropped into the Circle Tower kerfluffle 10 years ago. Apparently the fade was badly ruptured at that place and time, and dislocations happened. He was completely inept at Templar stuff, though he had the potential. They just assumed something bad had happened and sent him to special training to bone up. No one had known who he was or where he trained. He's been here ever since.

Looking at it, this means to me that the bodies may not be bodysnatched. It's possible that there was no one in this body before I was. That's a bad thing, from my perspective. If it was a matter of bodyswapping, then I could be fairly certain that someone was taking care of my little girl in my body while I handled things here in hers. It also means that I may not have a body to get back to.

So, I asked him how invested he was in circle politics. He said he had no issue with mages as long as they weren't possessed or incredibly stupid. At that point I opened the door for him. I waved my hand at the sacks of cloth we were using for chairs and invited him to sit a spell. When he removed his helmet, I could see he had not been in kind times these last years. He had scars, and his face had the look of one who has seen more than he should have. If he'd been in high school when he dislocated, then he must have arrived in a body that was older than his, I posited. Aloud.

Actually, the Templars actually start out really young. He's twenty eight in spirit and body. I told him I'm 42 in spirit, but who knows how old the elf body is. And men will apparently be men. He WAGGLED HIS BROWS at me. Ewww. I lifted a brow and asked if he was REALLY hitting on the fattest elf in Thedas. Idiot men. He said he was a fan of curves, and I told him that I wasn't on the menu. He laughed at that.

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum decided it must be safe at that point and brought their lunches back to the seats. Dee told me that I had to welcome this guy to Ethelathe and tell him the rules if he was going to sit down. Really? First I heard of it. Anyway, that reminded me of my manners. I did indeed welcome him to Ethelathe and told him that this was a place of peace and safety. We introduced ourselves, me as Chrissy and him as Andrew, and the Tweedles as the Tweedles, of course. If he couldn't live and let live here, I stressed to him, then we would see him leave. Andrew gravely nodded in return. "I can do that," he said. I asked him to keep any conversation held here behind his teeth as well, and he grew wary. There are apparently some things he can't promise, but so long as there were no possessed mages, he'd keep silent.

"No, just a baby apostate," I replied. He looked at the boys, and we three laughed. "Not them, me," I got out. "I've been a mage for about 3 weeks." He narrowed his gaze at me and told me I didn't feel like a mage. I responded that maybe it was my imagination, then. Hey, if I'm not powerful enough to be a "real" mage, then all the better, right? (I didn't say that part.) Anyway, we chatted a bit, and I told him that I was going to be teaching the elves a few old civil rights era songs, so not to be surprised if he heard them.

Andrew had known about the issues, but it hadn't affected him all that much. He didn't tolerate abuse around him, but never went farther than that. He wished me good luck and told me to look him up if I needed anything. I told him as he left that we had our first black President in 2008. He stopped and looked at me, nodded, and continued on his way.

I then sat down with the Tweedles and told them that I was trusting them with something important. That man had come from a country very far away. If they told on him, they'd hurt him, and be abusing the rules of Ethelathe. This was what sanctuary was for, to bring your troubles and talk about your problems in safety, without fearing someone would tell others. It didn't matter that he was human. He had been a guest. After getting agreement to keep their lips zipped (they said shut, but the same thing), we finished lunch and headed outside to play.

So apparently I'm not a mage. Or I don't look/feel like a mage. Or he's just not the best Templar. Or I wasn't using magic at the time, so I was invisible. Or something. See? This is why I need help. Interestingly, I never told Andrew where or when I was from, or even that I was a dislocated soul. I just told him about the president and that I knew civil rights songs and Dune. We never discussed any of the other things he and I would have in common. Am I just that guarded? Or was it just not the right time or something?

I'm not sure how I feel about knowing about Andrew. Or about him knowing so much about me. And thinking about it, calling myself a baby apostate might have been bad if he repeats it. Hopefully he won't.

On to better subjects. Ethelathe has had access to our own personal healing supplies and support for only a week. In that time, I can see that the elves have become more confident in general. There are more injuries from "shoved out of the way" than "screwed up and someone took out their anger on me". We're also eating a bit better because we have been hunting nugs for meat and sinew. With just this week of better food, better work, days off, and medical care, there's a little less gaunt to the frame. Still gaunt, still dark circles under the eyes, but they're lighter.

I think the main thing is that they've been given PERMISSION. Permission to pass the job onto someone else. Permission to take a breath. Permission to be angry, sometimes. They're giving themselves permission to be themselves, despite the humans. And it's only been a week. I'm SO PROUD of them. Let's see how it continues.

I sang the Tweedles to sleep with a lullaby of "We Shall Overcome", as done by Peter, Paul, and Mary. I'm going to do so every night. We'll see if it sticks.

On to logistics. Current medikit count is 82, enough for all the elves, including the one with Mother Giselle (63), Harritt, Seggrit, Daniel, and Adan (67), the 9 tranquil (76), and 6 more. I'm debating whether I should keep one for myself. What if I go home? It's a thought for another day. Well, the extra we'll be double-packing on the human packs for now. They're bigger and can carry more, and if they need to help someone they won't be questioned as hard.

The earliest inquisibabe could arrive is tomorrow. I've already told the people to stay away from any arguments between mage and Templar, and steer clear of Chancellor Rod-up-his-butt. Well, I used his name.

Well, baby girl, I'm either halfway home or not, but I miss you like crazy. I really hope you're doing okay. I love you.