A pale sunrise greeted them as they assembled to depart the forest. Jayne hauled a pack over her back, stumbling slightly at the sudden shift in her balance. Some of the others were still collapsing their tents. Oghren banged a spoon against the rim of his pot.
"Last call for porridge," he announced. "And then I'm dumping it all out."
"Sten and Morrigan went ahead with Bodhan to prepare the cart," Alistair informed her.
"Good, because I don't want to have to haul this pot myself all the way to Denerim," Oghren quipped behind them.
Sandal sat by the packs in his cloak, Rune stationed beside him, alert, tail wagging. She gave them both a shrewd grin; she was quite certain Sandal was surreptitiously sneaking Rune a treat.
Perhaps we should be making you king, Rune. You have a knack for getting people to do what you want: Alistair sharing his bedroll with you and Sandal feeding you scraps on demand…
In the nearby distance, the creaks and groans of aravels rolling over the uneven terrain echoed back to them. Bands of Dalish crossed their camp, en route to the main road several miles west of where they were. In full armor and geared with swords, bows, and daggers, they nodded in acknowledgement of them before disappearing into the woods ahead.
"Dareth shiral," several of them would call out, raising a hand.
A loud flapping startled her and she turned to see Zevran shaking out the tent.
"I found crumbs in my tent," he said loudly, to no one in particular. "Crumbs! Crumbs attract vermin!" he cried.
"Does he do laundry, too?" Leliana snickered next to her.
"If you let Rune inside, he would take care of the crumbs," she called out.
"I believe your tent feels very differently about that," he accused.
"Or you could grow a beard," Oghren teased. "My beard catches all the crumbs before they hit the bedroll," he chuckled.
"I'll be more careful," she promised, placing her pack down and wandering over to him.
She seized one of the edges of the canvas and helped him shake it, watching guiltily as more crumbs, pebbles, dirt, leaves, and sand flew off into the air.
"I won't hold my breath, my dear Warden," he said. "Apparently, people can't change," he winked slyly.
"Grey Wardens!" she heard behind them.
She whirled around and found Lanaya standing at the entrance of their dismantled camp. She was accompanied by Mithra and two other Dalish guards.
"There are a few matters to discuss before we depart," Lanaya explained once she and Alistair had walked over.
They confirmed plans they had previously outlined- where to meet, send messengers, and the contingency plan should no word come from them.
"Part of our clan is headed north— they go with our elders, to seek aid from other clans. We are sure they will heed the call. They will continue north, until word that the danger has passed comes," she explained.
Jayne looked down at her boots uncomfortably.
When the danger has passed…
"What is it Warden?" Lanaya asked.
She raised her eyes, meeting Alistair's gaze.
"It is just hard to imagine…When it is over."
"It will be," Lanaya stated simply. "We will fight alongside you and it will be," she assured her, placing a hand on her arm.
"We will send word once we reach Denerim, then," Alistair continued.
"There is one more thing," Lanaya added, before they turned away again.
She reached into her cloak.
"As we were raking through the coals, collecting the ashes of last night's fire, we found something…And we are quite sure it must belong to one of you."
She opened her hand to reveal a wooden marker, its back singed black and split.
"It does not happen often," she said in a contemplative voice, "but it does happen."
"It didn't burn up?" Alistair wondered.
"There are only two reasons why it wouldn't," Lanaya explained. "The first is if a soul's passing was especially filled with turmoil and there was any lingering anger or resentment…in that case, the offering may have been rejected." All three stared at the back of the marker, uneasily. "I must add, though, that such a reason is exceedingly rare. A soul that crosses successfully does not harbor such close ties to the past."
Jayne could feel her heart beating in her throat.
It's Rinna's marker, she thought apprehensively. How can I tell him? It'll devastate him even further.
"The second reason this might happen is because…the soul it was intended for hasn't passed."
Alistair and Jayne exchanged alarmed looks. Lanaya turned the marker over gingerly, wiping streaks of ash off the surface.
"Here," she stated, handing the marker to them, unsure as to whose hand she should place it in. Across the smooth surface was the etched name in short, choppy scratches.
Fergus.
A/N- I thought this chapter would be an appropriate one. It is that time of the year for rebirths and resurrection, when the northern hemisphere performs the unimaginable, recovering from a long, icy slumber. Happy Easter to all celebrating. And happy spring to everyone: may you find in the season a fulfillment of a promise, of hope, and renewal!