The journey wasn't difficult for Talyn. In fact, she found it thrilling. As they traveled down the mountain and into the gentle slopes of the Hinterlands, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the scenery. It fascinated her, how the blistering wind and the frosted ground could turn into green grass and blooming flowers so quickly. She would often get too far ahead of the group and get lost. Cassandra complained under her breath about having to "baby-sit" a fully grown woman quite often.
Whenever she did this, Talyn and Solas shared their own secret, amused grins.
"Talyn, stay with us!" Cassandra snapped as Talyn galloped ahead of them, right into the thick forest that lined either side of the road the were on.
Solas was never far behind her. And he was far more patient than Cassandra was with Talyn. He would show her small wonders that she never would have been able to find on her own. Like a waterfall hidden deep in the forest, in a small clearing with only one entrance, hidden by a thick blanket of ivy with white blooming flowers tangled in the leaves. Or a herd of halla grazing peacefully in a meadow bathed in sunlight, where their fawns frolicked and crushed the wildflowers beneath their hooves.
Without Solas shadowing her, she would never have been able to find the group back on the road. Especially when she would disappear for hours at a time, just marveling at the wonders of the world she didn't recognize.
Varric was very upset with Cassandra, because the Seeker made him ride a pony. The creature was about as bitter as her rider, because she was always constantly trying to brush the dwarf off her. Varric had scratches and leaves stuck in his hair from all of the failed attempts. He begged Cassandra for him to just walk, that it was unnatural for a dwarf to ride a pony. Cassandra had yet to give in, and they were always bickering about it. Listening to them argue amused Talyn more than anything else.
They arrived at one of the Inquisition's scout camps. The flaming eye with the sword in the middle was on everything. The tents, the flag, and the leather armor all the scouts that passed the group wore. One look at Talyn's face, at the swirling blue tattoos that shouted to the world how different she was, and they all knew that the Herald of Andraste had arrived. Talyn didn't think she'd ever get over the gawking and the whispers.
They dismounted and took care of their horses. Varric immediately handed his pony over to a scout and walked away, probably on the hunt for beer. But Solas and Talyn followed Cassandra through the camp on the hunt for a woman named Harding. She was the one who had the information Cassandra needed.
Harding was sitting on the edge of a cliff that overlooked the refugee camp. She was a dwarf, with red hair and gentle blue eyes. Upon seeing the three of them approaching, she stood to her feet and bowed.
"It's wonderful to meet you, Herald." She greeted Talyn first.
Talyn tensed for a moment.
"Um… hello." She replied awkwardly.
Cassandra interrupted. "Harding, what is the report on the Templars and mages?"
Harding's face grew solemn. "The war is bad, Seeker. Half of the Hinterlands is on fire. The Templars aren't just attacking the apostates anymore, it's anyone who they think might be supporting them. And the mages aren't much better. They aren't even a part of the rebellion anymore, they're just using the chaos as an excuse to do whatever they please. Many of them are using blood magic, and they don't care who gets in their way. Most of the people left in the Hinterlands are in the refugee camp."
"And Dennet?"
"Haven't seen him. He's been holed up in his farm, which hasn't been touched by the war yet, thank the Maker. You're going to have to see him personally about supplying horses for the Inquisition, he won't respond to any of the ravens we've sent him."
"And there's a Chantry Mother named Giselle who wants to speak to the Herald of Andraste. She's waiting in the refugee camp."
Talyn's brow furrowed. "Me? Why?"
Harding smiled at Talyn. "Because you're the Lady Herald. Everyone wants to speak to you."
"A Chantry Mother? That could be an interesting conversation." Solas said.
"Thank you, Harding." Cassandra dismissed the scout. Harding smiled and bowed to Talyn once more before leaving them to talk amongst themselves.
"Given the fact that the Chantry isn't happy with the Herald, it could indeed." Cassandra agreed with Solas. She turned to Talyn. "It's up to you though, whether or not you will speak to her."
"I suppose I can." What other choice did Talyn really have?
Cassandra nodded. "Then you and Solas should go to the refugee camp. I am going to find Varric. After you speak with this Mother Giselle, we'll rest and go to Dennet's farm."
The refugee camp was made of despair and nightmares. Orphans with dirt smudged faces and glassy eyes sat in the mud playing with ragged dolls made of straw and bits of ripped fabric. When Talyn and Solas passed them, they turned and stared at them with blank faces.
Merchants lined the street, but they weren't shouting for others to buy their wares. They spoke in hushed whispers, despite the greed glowing in their eyes, as if anything louder than a whisper would cause the world to crack and break like porcelain.
All around Talyn she could feel it. The desperation, the hopelessness that oozed from every lost soul that inhabited the camp. In the distance, Talyn could hear agonized screams.
"Why?" Was all Talyn could say, her voice broken with held back tears.
"Because fear and hatred poison the minds and souls of those who let it linger there." Solas responded quietly.
A little girl clutching a halla toy to her chest pointed Talyn and Solas in the direction of Mother Giselle. She was among the infirmary tents, tending to those who were badly burned in the most recent battle.
Talyn forced herself to approach the tents, even though the anguished screaming from within was enough to make Talyn want to run in the other direction. She curled her hands into fists, and forced herself to focus on the pain of her nails digging into the palm of her hand to distract her from the screaming.
The infirmary tents were set up in a circle, and the less severely injured of the refugees were in the middle, with women clothed head to toe in red and white gowns tending to them. A Chantry sister who was standing in the middle of the circle of tents, washing her bloody hands off noticed them. She looked Talyn up and down once, before jabbing a thumb in the direction of one of the tents.
"Mother Giselle could use some help." Was all the woman said.
It was a relief, not being referred to as 'Lady Herald' for once.
Talyn truly, truly, did not want to enter that tent. The scent of burnt and rotting flesh was already filling the air, and the cries of the injured tore at Talyn's heart. She felt Solas' hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him.
"You don't have to go in." He said, with understanding in his eyes.
His pity was enough for Talyn to harden her heart. She shrugged his hand off and squared her shoulders.
"I do." And before she could change her mind, Talyn walked into the tent that the sister had pointed to.
Inside, the stench was even worse. Blood soaked the floor and walls of the tent. There was even some on the ceiling, and rags that looked like they were dipped in crimson paint were piled in a corner of the tent. Lying on the cot, was a boy of no more than fifteen. He was crying. And when Talyn's eyes moved from his soot smeared face, she knew why.
It wasn't just the gash on his chest, left by an angry man's sword, that caused his pain, but the blackened charred flesh that covered the whole span of his torso and half his face. An older woman covered head to toe like the others was slowly peeling off the burnt skin, revealing the healing pink skin underneath. Each time even a sliver of burned skin was removed, the boy screamed and jerked his body.
"Ethan, you must stay still." Mother Giselle gently reminded him, her voice calm and soothing.
"It hurts!" The boy wailed.
Mother Giselle saw Talyn standing there, and gestured with her head towards the boy. "Lady Herald, he needs to stay still."
Talyn knew what the Mother was asking of her. With her legs heavy as lead, Talyn moved to the boy's side. She held one of his hands with both of her own. She tried to will herself to speak, but she simply couldn't. It was as if the tragedy that filled the atmosphere had taken her voice.
Until he screamed. Then Talyn was placing her hands on the boy's shoulders, holding him down as best as she could while Mother Giselle peeled his dead skin off.
"Is Ethan your name?" Talyn asked, raising her voice above his screams so he could hear her. His eyes were glossed over as if he had a fever, but he nodded his head.
"My name is Talyn, Ethan." Talyn brushed his damp hair out of his eyes.
She didn't know where it was coming from, the words that were spilling out of her mouth. All she knew was that she needed to help him.
Ethan screamed again.
Talyn held him down, pushing all of her weight on him to keep him as still as possible.
"It will be okay Ethan." Talyn forced to keep her voice steady and calm. .
"Just a little while longer, Ethan. The mages are coming." Mother Giselle said.
"I want my mother!" He sobbed. "Where is she?!"
Talyn looked to Mother Giselle, who met her eyes briefly and discreetly shook her head once.
No.
She didn't survive the battle.
"I know." Talyn knelt by the cot and held onto Ethan's hand again. "We'll find her, Ethan. But I'll stay with you until she gets here. Is that okay?"
Ethan, through his tears, mumbled out a yes before the screaming started again.
She stayed by that boy's side until he passed out from the pain and Mother Giselle bandaged his torso. Then, without even looking at Mother Giselle, she stood to her feet, walked casually out of the tent, and then proceeded to vomit violently.
Someone rubbed her back as her breakfast went all over the grass. She gladly took the water that someone offered her and drank it.
She met Mother Giselle's kind, understanding eyes.
"Where were the mages that were supposed to heal him?" She demanded, her eyes alight with fury.
Mother Giselle patiently replied, "there are too many injured and too few mages. They cannot help everyone. The important thing is that Ethan is alive, and with elfroot and rest, he will continue to be alive until a mage is available."
"Why did you ask for me?" Talyn's tone was angry and rude, but Mother Giselle acted like nothing was amiss.
Mother Giselle started to walk, and Talyn followed suit. "Those in the Chantry say you are an imposter, and that the Inquisition is made of blasphemy and lies."
"I didn't even come up with the 'Herald of Andraste' nonsense. I was unconscious for a week!"
That made Mother Giselle smile. "We seldom get to choose our fate, Herald."
She continued, "I am familiar with those behind the Chantry's denouncement. I won't lie to you, some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their chances of becoming the new Divine. Some are simply terrified." Mother Giselle closed her eyes and bowed her head. "So many good people, senselessly taken from us."
Talyn turned from angry to confused. "But don't you stand with the rest of the Chantry?"
Mother Giselle's sad eyes moved to the ground. "With no Divine, we are each left to our own conscience." She looked back at Talyn. "And mine tells me this: You have that mark on your hand for a reason. The Maker has plans for you, Lady Herald. I serve the Maker, and therefore I must help you."
"Go to them. Convince the remaining clerics that you are not a demon to be feared. They've only heard frightful tales of you. Give them something to believe, as you have given me."
"What do you mean? What did I give you?"
Mother Giselle gestured towards the circle of infirmary tents they were leaving behind. "You did not want to be in that room. I could see it in your eyes. And yet, you stayed with that boy all day, even when he was unconscious, because he needed you. You proved to me what you are, with that simple act of kindness. Now you must prove yourself to the clerics."
Talyn gave her an incredulous look. "They want to execute me, and you want me to walk up to them?"
Giselle shrugged. "You are no longer alone. They cannot hurt you now."
Talyn snorted. "They can try."
"Let me put it to you this way, Lady Herald. You needn't convince them all. You just need to make them doubt. Their power is in their unified voice. Take that from them, and you will receive the time you need."
Talyn sighed. "Alright, Mother Giselle. Thank you for the advice."
Mother Giselle smiled. "You are welcome."
Talyn hesitated. "Will you… let me know how Ethan is doing?"
"Of course, Lady Herald."
And then they parted ways. Talyn had no idea where Solas was. She hadn't realized how long caring for Ethan had taken, until she looked at the sky and saw that it was almost night.
Solas came from nowhere, concern shining bright on his face. "Are you alright, Talyn?"
Talyn nodded. But she wasn't fine. She felt drained, emotionally and physically. And she had much to ponder about Mother Giselle's advice. She needed to talk to Cassandra right away.
But then she looked up at Solas, and she felt a tear slide down her cheek. She thought of Ethan. How Ethan lost everything because of this damn war. How, while they had to torture him for hours, he screamed for a mother who was no longer there to hold him and love him.
She wiped away her tear angrily. "I'm fine."
She knew Solas wasn't convinced, but he didn't press her. They started walking back to the camp.