"You?" The word slipped from Hawen as a breath. "Why?"

"My abilities could have posed an issue for Elgar'nan as I could see through his lies and manipulations with ease. It is for this reason he had me removed so I could sway my siblings and niece against him." A bitter laugh fell from Dirthamen. "Though, it was unlikely any of them would have listened to me over Elgar'nan."

"Surely," Shianni started.

Deshanna raised her hand, cutting off Shianni. "It is true our legends say Elgar'nan was the leader of the creators, but there had to have been something you could do."

"There was and that is what I acted on."

Hawen frowned.

Deshanna glanced towards the figure of Mythal still visible nearby. "Forgive me for asking this, but in our legends, you and Falon'Din are never far from one another. Yet, in all of my memory you've always been alone save for when you brought a child to the clan." She turned back to Dirthamen.

Dirthamen's eyes narrowed, gaze sliding from them to the ground.

"I can't imagine Falon'Din without Dirthamen. At the same moment, I can't imagine the man I've known most of my life with travel companions. What happened? Why isn't he with you?"

"I," Dirthamen started. He took a deep breath. His eyes narrowed further as he fought against the images coming to the forefront of the visions around them.

They shouldn't know. They couldn't know.

The images started to near, racing forward in time to his racing heart.

No.

Dirthamen closed his eyes.

They couldn't see it.

His shame. The moment he had learned he couldn't reach his twin through the web Elgar'nan had woven around him.

The world blacked around them.

Light leaked in through his eyelids. His eyes opened a slit. They were back in Deshanna's aravel.

The others were stirring around him. Dirthamen glanced behind him to see Atisha was the first with her eyes open. A small frown pulled at her lips. Her gaze locked on him, brow furled.

Dirthamen gave her a small smile. It was all he could do to reassure her. Everything was fine. The group hadn't seen the battle which had happened. Hawen only knew of it from his visit to the temple but not of the reasons it had happened. Or, the fact in the end the fight had been Dirthamen's fault.

But why?

Dirthamen hadn't chosen for Mythal to betray Elgar'nan that night. He had no more control over who his father was than Falon'Din did. If so then all of his siblings would have chosen Solas without hestation. Yet, Dirthamen didn't want either as his father. Sure Solas hadn't been a bad uncle, but Solas had – it didn't matter. What was in the past in the past. There was no changing it.

A small, rattling breath escaped Dirthamen.

Or no desire to change it.

"What happened?" Shianni asked as she opened her eyes. Her hand dropped from Dirthamen as she glanced around the aravel.

Both Hawen and Deshanna removed their hands from him as well. They stepped back.

"Forgive me, Dirthamen, if the question upset you." Deshanna bowed. The whites of her eyes were visible as a frame.

"It's fine, Keeper," Dirthamen assured her. "I would rather not discuss what happened between Falon'Din and myself." His heart ached as he looked at the two keepers. "Besides we have ironbark we need to collect before the others return from Highever."

"Of course." Deshanna straightened. "If you could draw us a map to the location, I could send out a few warriors and hunters to gather it."

"I have a better idea." Dirthamen looked at his old friend, perhaps he didn't have the right to call her such anymore. Not after all the lies, all the secrets he had kept from her. From all of his friends throughout his long life. Still, to be seen as a normal person… to not be placed as a god ever again.

Just like with who Dirthamen's blood was, he couldn't change what they knew nor would he. If the price of turning the tide was his friendship with Deshanna, Teren, and – he straightened against the stabbing pain in his heart – and Theon, then he had to accept it.

Deshanna frowned as she looked at him. Her eyes narrowed and lips pursed.

"I will lead you and Hawen there," Dirthamen informed her. "As well as Alaula and any other the two of you wish to bring along."

"No," Deshanna shot down the idea, her hand sliced the air. Her eyes widened. "With respect, Dirthamen, but it would be for the best you remained here. You're in no condition to hunt down ironbark."

"If the two of you wish to see what I am capable of then this presents the best opportunity," Dirthamen stated. "I will go with or without you, Keeper Deshanna."

Atisha rubbed her eyes. She looked at the two keepers and Shianni. "It would be for the best we humor him before he does something drastic."

Deshanna folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes flashed in the dim light of the aravel. Her gaze flickered away from Dirthamen. She bit her lip.

"Dirthamen," Hawen stepped forward, "I understand you can't die, but, please, we can't risk you getting injured. The moment the clans are informed of who you really are they would protest to one such as yourself aiding us in such a manner."

"I am quite capable of avoiding injury."

"It's too risky." Deshanna shook her head.

Too risky? Dirthamen took a deep breath. "I assure you nothing will happen to me."

Deshanna shifted. She glanced towards Hawen.

The other keeper closed his eyes. His white shifted as he bowed his head.

"Humor him," Hamin stepped forward from where he had been guarding the door. "When he has his mind set on something it is next to impossible to change it. Besides," – Hamin's eyes narrowed – "if you don't humor him he will stop time and leave to gather ironbark on his own. This way the two of you, myself, whoever you two choose to join us, and Alaula will be with him. We can ensure he doesn't do anything stupid."

Dirthamen cocked an eyebrow as he looked at his oldest son.

A small breath escaped Deshanna. She rubbed her eyes. "I don't like this, but I dislike the thought of you going on your own far more. Hawen," – she turned to her fellow keeper – "gather a warrior given Alaula is coming from my clan."

Hawen frowned. "It would be wiser to take—"

Dirthamen held up his hand. "One warrior, Hamin, the two of you, and Alaula will be enough. We can't leave the camp unguarded."

"Very well." Hawen bowed his head even as his gaze flickered away from Dirthamen. "I will find Nitsa then."

"I'll gather Alaula then," Dirthamen informed them, "and meet you at the bonfire." He looked at Shianni and smiled. "Would you mind leading the people while we gather the ironbark?"

"Of course, Shartan." Shianni straightened.

Dirthamen bowed his head. "Ma serannas, Hahren Shianni. Atisha will stay with you." He turned to the two keepers and Hamin. "We'll meet up in an hour." After all, Deshanna wanted to speak with her crafters before they left. It wasn't necessary and yet there would be no talking her out of it.

He wasn't Shartan to her or Hawen anymore. He wasn't her friend or the savior from two thousand years ago. He was a creator, a god to them now. Showing them the past and a less chaotic version of what he saw had only reinforced this.

"Ma serannas," – Deshanna bowed – "it will give me time to speak with my clan."

"Yes, we should send out the hunters to prepare for a feast," Hawen decided.

Deshanna smiled. "We should."

Dirthamen left the aravel. His heart sank. None of their plans were necessary. He was still the person they knew just with more history and more regrets than they had known before now.

A god? It was stretching what he could do. Inan, if he ever decided to use his abilities, could defeat Dirthamen with ease. Granted, his grandfather had access to all nine of their abilities.

"Hi'ya!" Inan cheered, appearing in a flash of golden light.

Dirthamen chuckled. "I feel as if you knew I was just thinking about you."

"Oh, you were?" Inan blinked, pointing to himself. "My thanks, Little Secret, but you never need to think about me when I am here!" Inan twirled in the snow.

Butter bounced on his shoulder. She leapt down and shook herself. "Must you dance so. It's disorienting."

"I'm just so happy to see my little grandson!"

"I take it you passed the assessment Teren set?"

"Yup!" Inan grinned. "It wasn't too hard just asking questions and me having to guess modern names for plants as well as their uses. The uses were easy."

"The modern names got you?" Dirthamen asked.

Inan slumped. "Elf root? Who calls it elf root?"

"Most societies, but humans were the one to give it its current name."

"Well, it's not a nice name. I get it. The leaves do look like pointed ears, but it's not the root of the elvhen!" Inan hit his hand with a fist. "Ouch!"

Dirthamen chuckled.

"It's not funny. It really hurt."

Dirthamen smiled. "That wasn't what I was laughing at, grandfather."

"Eh?" Inan tilted his hand to one side.

Alaula was behind a nearby aravel.

Dirthamen took a deep breath. The frigid air wrapped around his lung, constricting them. He limped around the aravel.

"—get it, you'll see!" a young man grinned as he looked at Alaula. "Then will you say 'yes'?"

Alaula nodded.

"Ma serannas, Alaula. I swear by Mythal, I'll make you happy."

"To do that you might want to hunt to the east away from human roads," Dirthamen informed the young man.

He stiffened. "S-Shartan." He whipped around. "I didn't – I mean, I shouldn't—"

"You're fine," Dirthamen assured.

The boy nodded, eyes lighting up. "So, you're not mad I'm pursuing Alaula."

"Should I be?"

"No, of course not, sir! She's the best and I will do anything to make her happy."

"I'm happy to hear that."

"I'll go and return with the best pelt in the world. Nothing else would suffice." The boy raced off.

"Are you certain he's the one?" Dirthamen asked when the boy had left.

"I am, papa," Alaula mumbled. "He's louder than I am, but I think that's a good thing." She flushed. "He makes me happy when we hunt and eat together."

"Then I'm happy for you both."

"Ma serannas, papa."

"I am too!" Inan cheered. "More little ones is great."

Alaula's face went bright red.

Inan clapped. "Oh, this will be wonderful. I'll get to be a great-great grandfather!"

"What?" Alaula breathed.

Dirthamen cleared his throat. "Alaula, I need to speak with you before we join Keepers Deshanna and Hawen to look for ironbark."

"What's wrong, papa?" Alaula frowned.

"I'll explain everything," Dirthamen assured her. He turned to Inan.

"You want to talk to her alone?" Inan grinned. "On it!" He vanished in a soft flash of golden light.

"What the?" Alaula gaped where Inan had been moments before.

There would never be a point in trying to convince Inan to not use his abilities. To him they were no different than breathing and Dirthamen would rather not try to convince him otherwise. Besides, it wasn't as if Dirthamen could just turn off his own curse. He would always be flooded with sights, sounds, feeling, smells, and tastes from the past present and future.

Alaula rubbed her eyes. "What did you want to talk about?"

Dirthamen gestured for her to follow him. He led her towards the edge of camp where they wouldn't be overheard. "You became aware I was Shartan around the time the rest of the clan was informed," Dirthamen started. His heart raced, faster and faster and it ached. His sight blurred.

The moments he couldn't see the possible futures were when his emotions were blocking the moment from him. It was the only reason he had never been able to see Falon'Din's actions. The betrayal had never been a surprise because once Falon'Din had left Elgar'nan Dirthamen had been made aware of it. Still…

"Was I upset of it?" Alaula asked. Her head tilted to one side. "No, I always knew you were different from the rest of the clan, papa. You were a member but not at the same time and you always wanted what was best for all of the People. It only followed you were Shartan after all."

Dirthamen took a deep breath. He wheezed from the sharp, cold air. "That isn't the first name I was given," he informed his youngest.

The frown returned to Alaula. "It wasn't?"

"No, I was born Dirth."

"Dirth?" Her frown deepened. She blinked, eyes widening as the frown melted. "Dirth as in—" She leapt into the air. "Yes! I knew it, I knew it!"

Dirthamen frowned.

"You're Dirthamen, right, papa?" Her eyes glittered, a smile lighting her face.

"I am," Dirthamen confirmed. His heart slowed a little.

Alaula nodded, still grinning. "Ever since Hahren Theon taught us about Dirthamen and how he," – she laughed – "ir abelas, how you taught us about valuing family, I thought 'that's like my papa.' As I grew older, I kept thinking, if Dirthamen was like anyone he would be like you, papa. Kind, caring, and always there for us, especially for children like myself."

Dirthamen smiled. "Ma serannas, Alaula."

She frowned. "So, the sentinels are yours then?"

"They are."

"You reported Mythal bound hers to her, but I know you wouldn't do that, papa. So," she trailed off.

"How are they so loyal to me?" Dirthamen asked for her.

Alaula nodded.

"They're your older brothers and sisters."

"Yes! I have more siblings. Ma serannas, ma serannas, ma seranna, papa. I always wanted more siblings!" She twirled a little, acting more like a kid than her normal quiet self. "Oh, can I join the sentinels as well then."

"No," Dirthamen shot down the idea.

"Why not?"

"The group was more Eth's idea in order to stop the other seven from questioning me over why I didn't have any. I would rather you have a wonderful life with the man you love."

Alaula flushed. "Oh."

Dirthamen placed his hand on her head. "He is a great man, Alaula."

"I know." She straightened. Her cheeks flushed. "I just…"

"I will always love you, da'len."

Alaula smiled. "I know, papa."

(Author's Notes: For anyone who read the series with Herenya, yes, the reason Dirthamen can't see what Falon'Din is doing is his own doing. His fears and feelings surrounding his twin makes it hard to see. You could call it a weakness, but it is also a strength in the fact he cares and loves so much especially when it comes to his children.)