As it turns out, terrified children are not particularly inclined to follow after the people who just murdered their parents calmly and cheerfully. Go figure. They either run off, or hide in their homes and refuse to budge.

"There's no help for it, I suppose," Genitivi says. "We'll need to send some other people who can take care of them. Hopefully they will be alright until we can send someone from Redcliffe."

We set out from Haven and make our way out of the mountains. We got here sooner than last time, and Genitivi isn't as badly injured as he was in the last timeline, thankfully. I would hate to practically have to carry him down this mountain.

We did, however, leave the tent with the others, so we've got a few days of actually roughing it ahead of us. It's not like I don't have actual bedrolls in my bag of holding, after all. Despite fireproofing the tent, I'm still paranoid, as any number of things could still happen. Such as deciding to go off on our own for a while and leaving the tent with Kirlin and Rispy.

It's just as well that we didn't bring along any children, as we run into a sizeable group of darkspawn as we're nearing Redcliffe. Brother Genitivi is terrified, but as we have no need to hold back or hide the fact that we're mages, we sweep them away with magic as quickly as we can. It's not efficient, and requires burning through a lot of mana, but with just the two of us and a civilian to protect, this isn't a time for messing around.

When we arrive at Redcliffe, Genitivi heads for the Chantry, and Tom and I make a stop at the castle to say hello to Gellert and see if Kirlin and Rispy are about.

"You went off on a rampaging slaughter and didn't invite me?" Gellert says once we explain what we've been up to. "Oh, I get it. Just the two of you. Uh-huh."

Tom snorts softly. "I had theories that I wished to test."

"Sure you did," Gellert says. "And did you then screw like monkeys on top of a pile of corpses?"

"What's a monkey?" asks Connor, poking his head out of a door. "And how do they screw?"

I fold my arms and smirk at Gellert. "I'm surprised Isolde hasn't killed you yet." I turn to Connor and say, "Monkeys are animals. You can find them up north, in Seheron and around there. They're furry, and have tails, and climb trees."

"Oh, I see," Connor says, then runs off again, sparing the question about screwing for the moment at least.

"Have Kirlin and Rispy come in?" I ask.

"Yeah," Gellert says. "They're around here somewhere. They were with that guy with too many belts and a bunch of those Qunari fellows, who went on ahead for Lothering."

After a bit of looking around, we come across Kirlin, who seems rather miffed. "I can't believe you just ran off like that and left us with hardly a word. I hope whatever you were doing was important."

Tom rolls his eyes. "We were successfully able to remove the bond from the dragon in Haven. And we escorted Brother Genitivi safely back to civilization as well. He's down at the Chantry, I believe."

"Well, you could have at least brought me," Kirlin says. "What if one of you had gotten hurt? You're not the best healers around."

"And that would be why you were better suited to stay with the Qunari," Tom says.

"But you could have at least said something instead of just running off and leaving a note!"

"It was four o'clock in the morning," Tom says dryly. "Did you really want to be woken up at that hour just to argue about it for an hour? And if we hadn't had to escort Brother Genitivi back, which was not certain that we would, we might have been back before anyone even woke up."

Kirlin sighs. "Oh, fine, whatever."

"I really don't know what you're so upset about," Rispy says, casually coming through the doorway while munching on an apple.

"I'm not upset!" Kirlin protests.

"If this is 'not upset', I'd hate to see you when you're angry, then," Rispy says.

Brother Genitivi arranged for people from the Chantry to head up to Haven, and we set out for Lothering the next morning.

Once we arrive there, I go and locate Leliana and ask, "Hey, Sister Leliana. Gotten any signs from the Maker yet?"

"I still think you are mocking me," Leliana replies.

"Gently teasing, perhaps?" I say with a shrug. "But really, who am I to argue with the Maker?"

"Sisters, I have come to spread the good news!" Brother Genitivi exclaims, coming into the Chantry behind me. "I have finally found the location of the Urn of Sacred Ashes!"

"Maybe that's a sign from the Maker?" Leliana suggests.

"Nah, that was just us stumbling upon a mountain in the middle of nowhere," I say.

"With the help of this Grey Warden," Genitivi says, gesturing toward me, "I was freed from captivity, and he helped to open the way to Andraste's final resting place! Surely it was the Maker's hand who guided him to me in my darkest hour!"

Why is it that whenever anything good happens to Chantry people, they assume that the Maker must have been involved somehow?

"Surely it is no coincidence that the urn has at last been found, with the help of a Grey Warden on the eve of a Blight!" Genitivi goes on. "Let us give what aid we may against the darkspawn!"

"Yeah, I... really ought to meet up with Duncan in Ostagar," I mutter. "Brother Genitivi, are you coming with us to Ostagar, or will you remain here for the moment? We'll probably be back this way in a week or so, as we do still need to visit the Dalish elves and make a trip to Denerim."

"It would probably be best for me to remain here," Genitivi says. "I will spread the good news and rally whoever I can to the cause, Grey Wardens."

"You do that," I say.

We do not, however, set out walking for Ostagar. Since we're no longer escorting someone at the moment who isn't soulbound to me, I think perhaps we shall try a shortcut. I do, however, have Tom stun me first before trying anything.

"You're going to try to Apparate with me?" Rispy says, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, this ought to be fun." He chuckles. "Well, let's try it then, shall we?"

"Dragging a dwarf through the Fade?" Tom says, giving a crooked grin. "An interesting experiment."

"Alright, Rispy, hold on tight," I say, putting my arms around him.

"Got it," Rispy says, clenching onto me for dear life. "Ready."

I try to use my magic to shield both of us as much as possible, and then Apparate, trying to push us both through the Fade. It doesn't seem to want to work at first, as though I'm carrying nothing but a massive boulder, so I put more power into it. Then, suddenly, the Veil is breached, and the two of us are hurtling through the Fade. Rispy feels so heavy in my arms, it's all I can do not to drop him.

We break through to the other side and go tumbling to the ground, Rispy landing on my chest like a sack of potatoes. I'm drained and exhausted from the effort. That certainly took most of my mana reserves to accomplish that.

"Ugh, that was particularly unpleasant," Rispy says.

"You're telling me," I say. "Get off of me, Rispy, I can't breathe!"

"Oops, sorry," Rispy says, clambering to the ground.

I sit up and pull out a lyrium potion from my bag, and drink it down. Much better. We came out on the edges of Ostagar, and Tom and Kirlin appear shortly after us.

"Well, it looks like it did work after all," Tom says.

"I would really rather not get into a habit of doing that, however," I say, chuckling. "If anymore energy had been required, I might have had to resort to blood magic."

We go off to find Duncan, who is currently speaking with a group of Grey Wardens, including Alistair. I have to grin when I see them, and wave over toward them.

"Ah, you're here already?" Duncan says. "I just arrived myself."

"We made good time," I say.

"Where did you go, anyway?" Duncan wonders.

"Little village up in the mountains," I say. "Rescued a lost Chantry brother, killed a lot of cultists and one high dragon, found the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Not much, really." I grin crookedly.

"You certainly seem to get up to quite a number of interesting things," Duncan says, eyes widening.

"Did the Qunari arrive safely?"

Duncan nods. "They are competent fighters. We killed another couple groups of darkspawn on the way. We are fortunate to have their assistance."

"Brother Genitivi is rallying the Chantry to our cause," I say. "I told him we'd escort him back to Denerim. He's waiting up in Lothering."

"We do still have business in Denerim, yes," Duncan says. "I believe we shall head there next, and then when we're done there, head south into the Brecilian Forest to look for the Dalish elves. Alistair will be accompanying us, I think."

"Sounds like a plan," I say.


Several days later, we arrive in Denerim. I'm quite glad to finally have Brother Genitivi off my hands. Duncan can't Apparate, either, but at least he's a competent fighter, while Genitivi was pretty much just dead weight for the most part.

Duncan heads up to the royal palace, and Tom goes along with him to make sure that King Cailan's condition is stable, that is, still sick enough to keep him off the battlefield but not so sick that it's actually going to threaten his life.

While strolling through Denerim's market district, I run across a man who looks vaguely familiar, attempting to sell a golem control rod.

"Just fifty sovereigns, and a mighty golem could be yours!" the man says. "An invaluable bodyguard to have at your side in dangerous times!"

"I'll buy it," I say, pulling out my bag and starting to count out the coins.

"Well, you're certainly rich," Alistair comments.

"I killed a high dragon and looted her treasure hoard," I say.

"Oh, come on, like anyone's going to believe that," Alistair replies, smirking.

I chuckle softly that of all the excuses for coming up with for having money to burn, the one that's actually true is the least believable, apparently.

"Thank you very much," the merchant says. "You won't regret your purchase. I'll mark the village where you can pick up the golem on your map for you. Little spot called Honnleath, down south of Redcliffe."

As we're walking away, Alistair says, "I don't know about this. I mean, it's your money and all, but does this really sound like a good deal to you? Just buying a rod, and then having to go into the middle of a darkspawn horde to pick up the golem? Sure, golems are powerful and all, but it seems like an awful lot of money for having to do most of the work yourself."

I shrug and shove the rod into my bag of holding. "I'm just looking to liberate the golem, really."

"Liberate?" Alistair says. "What are you talking about?"

"Golems are people, too," I say. "And I'm not overly fond of slavery in any form."

"I..." Alistair blinks. "I never thought of it that way."

"Oh, by the way," I say, pulling out a pile of dragon scales from my bag. "Why don't the two of you get yourselves some new armor? I hear Wade's Emporium does good work, and I'm sure the smith there can make some fine armor with this."

"Wait, is that... dragon scales?" Alistair says, eyes widening. "Maker's breath, you weren't joking."

"You bring me the nicest presents," Rispy says, grinning broadly.

Kirlin and I head off on our own, and one gate catches her attention. "Say, is this where the elves here live?"

"That's the way to the alienage, yes," the guard at the gate says.

"I've never actually been to an alienage before," Kirlin says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along. "Come on, let's check it out."

I chuckle. "Alright, alright, I'm coming."

As we pass through the gate and over the bridge, the change in scenery around us is dramatic. The alienage is rundown and filthy, the buildings looking like they were cobbled together from whatever could be scavenged and about to fall apart if someone sneezes.

"Hey, shemlen," says an elf sitting by the road. "Those are some nice clothes. You got any coin to spare for a poor elf?" His leg looks like it's twisted the wrong way.

"What happened to you?" I ask, pulling out a couple silvers and handing them over to him.

"Thank you kindly, ser," the elf says. "Leg got broken real bad in an accident down at the docks. Never did heal quite right. Lucky I didn't lose the whole leg, though."

"Let me take a look at that," Kirlin says, crouching down next to him. "Hmm. I can probably fix this, but it'll require re-breaking it again."

"Can you really?" he asks. "How?"

"I'm a mage, specializing in healing magic," Kirlin explains.

"Oh, you're too kind, milady, but there's no way I can afford a real healer."

"I didn't ask for money," Kirlin says with a faint grin. "Lexen, can you help me out here?"

I lend her energy and assist with her spell weaving a bit, but she does most of the work. The operation would probably be quite painful if it weren't for me making sure he didn't feel anything from it. After several long minutes of work, some other elves have wandered in and are watching us curiously by the time Kirlin finishes up and straightens.

"Alright, that should do the trick," Kirlin says. "Try standing now."

The elf slowly climbs to his feet, testing his leg out and shaking it a bit. "Maker's breath, it's as good as new! You're truly a miracle worker, milady! I am in your debt."

As he practically skips away, an elf woman nearby says, "My little boy has a bad cough. Can you look at him?"

"My wife's pregnancy isn't going well-" a man begins.

"My brother lost two fingers on his left hand-"

"Please, give our guest some space," says an older elven man, stepping forward and gesturing at the others, who back up. "I'm sure she will come and see to your problems if she has time."

The crowd disperses, and Kirlin nods to the elderly elf thankfully. "I don't mind, really. But one at a time, please."

"I am Valendrian, the hahren of this alienage. And who might you be? A mage and a shemlen?"

"I'm Kirlin Surana, and this is Lexen Chelseer."

"Surana?" Valendrian says. "Oh, little Kirlin! I remember when you were taken away, just a girl of six years. I'm sorry to say that if you came here looking for your family, your parents have gone to the Maker's side, and your brother married a woman in the alienage in Gwaren."

"I have a brother?" Kirlin says. "I'm afraid I don't remember much of my early life."

"Yes, he's about a year older than you," Valendrian says. "His name is Harel."

"Maybe I'll go and meet him sometime," Kirlin says, smiling broadly. "But no, I didn't come here looking for my family. I've just never seen an alienage before. I've been in the Circle Towr for most of my life, you see, and it's very different there. I wanted to see how the elves lived here."

"And you brought this... human with you?" Valendrian says, raising an eyebrow.

"He's not just some human," Kirlin says. "He's my husband."

"I see," Valendrian says, his face darkening. "You would be wise not to mention that to anyone else, or you are likely to get an... unpleasant response. You are aware that the union of elves and humans will only produce humans?"

"My grandmother was an elf," I say. "But I'm afraid that having children isn't exactly a high priority at the moment. We're Grey Wardens. If we don't stop the Blight, there won't be a next generation."

"Grey Wardens?" Valendrian asks. "Is Duncan with you?"

"He is," I reply. "He had some business at the royal palace at the moment, though. You know Duncan?"

"I do," Valendrian says. "I have known him for many years. Is he here looking to recruit?"

I give a nod. "There is a Blight going on. More Grey Wardens are definitely needed to fight the darkspawn."

"I see," Valendrian says. "Well, I shall leave you to your business, then. You may be outsiders, you are an elf and an elf-blooded human, so I suppose there's no harm in it. Just do please try not to cause any trouble. I have things to attend to."

He goes off and leaves us alone again, and we continue on further into the alienage. In the center of the district, there's a very large tree, its wide trunk brightly painted.

"They really seem to revere this tree," Kirlin says quietly.

"That's the vhenadahl, flat-ears," says one elf woman nearby, practically spitting. "Of course you wouldn't recognize it, or understand what it means, the way you adore the shems." She has black hair, and green eyes startlingly bright enough to make me do a double-take. Somehow, she seems familiar.

Kirlin blinks and looks over to her, looking hurt. "Excuse me?"

"Hey, don't talk to her like that," I say.

"Or what? I'm not scared of you, shem. You don't belong here. This is our place."

"My grandmother was an elf!" I tell her.

"Then your grandmother betrayed her blood when she decided to lay with a shemlen. Or did your grandpa force himself on her? A pretty elf maiden for him to use in any way he pleased?"

I growl and clench my fists, blood boiling. "You know nothing about my family, and I would appreciate if you did not make presumptions," I grate.

A red-haired elf man comes up. "Please forgive my dear cousin. Lariole, why don't you leave the outsiders alone? I heard that they're mages, and have been healing people for free."

That would be why she looks familiar. "Hawthorne?" I exclaim.

The elf woman looks sharply at me with green eyes matching my own. "How do you know that nickname, shemlen?"

"Um..." I say. "I believe we might be related."

"He's got a point, cousin," the man says. "You look so much alike that you could be siblings!"

I suppose it should not surprise me as much as it does, but I did not expect to come across an alternate version of one of my close relatives. Especially not my great-grandmother, looking the same age as me. Well, not that my great-grandmother looked old anyway, but we all knew that she was over eighty, even if she didn't look a day over thirty.

"I do not want to be the sister of a shemlen, Soris," Lariole spits. "I don't even want to be the distant cousin of a shemlen!"

"Oh, there was a woman who wanted me to look at her sick son," Kirlin says. "Let's go, Lexen. We have much to do."

"We can look after ourselves, flat-ears!" Lariole says.

"Have you been drinking again, Hawthorne?" Soris says.

"Only a little!"