Andra awoke the next morning feeling more rested than she had in months. Though, when the last signs of sleep left her system and she rubbed her eyes and stretched before getting out of bed, the realization of her predicament hit her. And fear gripped her as she rolled up her bed and placed it in the corner of her tent.

Andra didn't know how people might react to the removal of her Vallaslin. They could treat her the same, but more than likely they would treat the change harshly. The Dalish strode with pride once they received their Vallaslin. For them, it was a sign of earned adulthood and a way for them to feel closer to their Elvhen gods.

There was little to be done now, anyway. Andra had to simply embrace the situation.

Confidently, but also with wracking nerves, Andra exited her tent and began a steady pace towards Keeper Sathari's tent. She needed to explain everything to her, and also let her know that she was going to leave the clan once again. No doubt everyone would see her choice last night negatively, and maybe they would even see her new stance as akin to something like treason. As an elf, she had no place outside of her clan, even the alienages would be too foreign to her—not that she was even considering them. But now, she had no place among her people either.

The second Andra exited her tent, an elf across the way grinned at her and raised their hand in greeting, but stopped once they took note of her barren face. Their own features creased with confusion as the elf stood up to confront her.

It was a young boy, with blonde hair and eyes as green as the treetops. Andra hardly spoke to him but she knew who he was. He made it to her side and walked with her then. "Andra?"

"Yes?" She said, a little irritably but also softly. She didn't expect to be confronted so immediately.

"Your Vallaslin?"

Andra sighed, never looking at the boy once, "I can't explain right now. I need to see the Keeper."

"This is most unusual…" He whispered, more to himself than anything. Andra ignored him and after a couple steps, he stopped walking with her and went back to talk with the others.

Andra did her best to ignore the stares that followed her, but she became most agitated when she was stopped once by some of the hunters and they questioned her on who she was. It took several minutes to convince them of her identity as they insisted that the Vallaslin could not be removed and that 'their Andra' would never do such a thing even if it were possible. Once convinced, they stared at her shocked, but she pushed through and sighed with relief once inside Keeper Sathari's tent.

The old woman, who had been mixing herbs together in a bowl, now stared wide-eyed at the blonde elf in front of her. She stood immediately and went to Andra, cupping the young girl's face in her hands and tilting her head in every which way as if examining her for some sort of illness. Andra, of course, grabbed the Keeper's hands and pulled them away and down between them.

She took a deep breath and began, "I know this is strange… but I want you to understand that I wanted this."

Keeper Sathari's hands shook in Andra's, "Your Vallaslin, Da'len…"

Andra jumped right in, no tiptoeing around the issue, "I saw Solas last night," and she hurried along as she saw the question already forming in the old woman's eyes, "We had a long talk… We worked out our differences, and I… he offered to remove my Vallaslin after he told me what the markings meant." Andra looked at the ground between them, "And I agreed." She laughed softly after that, realizing that it was so obvious what she had agreed to.

"Why, my child?" Sathari's eyebrows creased in concern, "The Vallaslin is not a symbol of something bad. It is what our people did long ago, in remembrance of the Creators—"

"It's not," Andra cut in a bit more harshly than she had intended, "I'm sorry… but you wouldn't understand…"

"Help me to understand, then," Sathari pleaded, gripping Andra's hands more tightly.

The blonde looked up at the old woman before her and smiled sadly. "Solas explained to me… their true origin is a sign of slavery. We shame ourselves by willingly wearing these blood writing shackles. And I believe him… He's never had a reason to lie to me before."

Sathari was quiet for a long moment. For Andra, it felt as if an eternity stretched between them. "I don't doubt your belief in him," Sathari started slowly, carefully, and Andra had a feeling that the old woman was irritated, "But sometimes people do lie without reason. How can you be so sure that he's not simply trying to pull you away from the Dalish, from your clan? You spoke so passionately of his hatred for our people. I do not trust his intentions."

"I don't think so. He wouldn't do that."

"How do you know, Da'len?"

"I've known him a while, Keeper, and I trust my gut when it says that he would never do such a thing. He's never been that kind of person. Solas is honest, brutally at times. If he wanted to hurt me in any way, he would not have done it as discreetly as you're trying to imply."

"I can put the Vallaslin back. It would be the same as the first time. You'll probably even handle the pain better now that you know what to expect—"

"I don't want that, Keeper!" Andra said forcefully. "And I didn't come in here to fight about it. I came here because I wanted to tell you that I'm leaving. But knowing the situation, I had to explain my face first. I'm not here to debate anything. If I had known how troublesome this whole ordeal was going to be, I might of thought of leaving last night when everyone was asleep…"

Sathari seemed to relax a little bit. Then the old woman's eyes stung with the threat of tears as she sat back down on the stool she had been occupying when Andra had come to her. "All the years the clan helped raise you…" She was trying to hold back sobs, "We tried to give you the best life we could possibly offer. A life full of safety and love. But you were always an adventurous one. I couldn't stop you from joining the Inquisition… I know I can't stop you now… If I'd only known the heartache you would bring this old woman when I saved you from the Arbor Wilds…" Then her mouth snapped shut and her eyes locked with Andra's as she realized she let something slip that she shouldn't have.

"The Arbor Wilds?" Andra was confused.

"It's nothing, forget I said anything. I'm just an old woman getting her memories mixed up." And suddenly the Keeper was back to mixing herbs, trying to dissuade the young blonde from asking any more questions.

"I've only been to the Arbor Wilds when I was with the Inquisition and we were fighting Corypheus." Andra walked over to where the old woman sat on her stool at her little table and stood in front of her. "And what do you mean saved me?"

"It was just a small accident when you were very young. It's not important now." A bluff.

"No it is. I've heard nothing of this. Never a word from any of the elders or anyone else in the camp. But if you won't tell me, I'll go ask one of them, even if that means I have to tell everyone why I no longer have my Vallaslin."

"Da'len, wait!" Sathari grabbed Andra's arm as the girl had tried to leave. She sighed in defeat and gestured her to sit. It took her several moments before she said anything. The long years of silence and lying screamed at her to keep her mouth shut, that she was doing the wrong thing, but Sathari knew it was important for Andra to know the truth. Even if it pained her to say it.

"You were a child when we found you. It feels like such a long time ago…" The Keeper began as they sat there. Andra stared into Sathari's face, wary of more deceit. "I forbid any of the elders, or their children to tell you of your upbringing. I didn't want you to feel alienated from the clan." She held back a laugh, no doubt Andra felt exactly that in this moment. "You were about four years old when I plucked you from the Arbor Wilds. An orphan."

"But you told me... that my parents died from werewolves during the Fifth Blight. Down in the Brecilian Forest in Ferelden. That was the whole reason the clan moved up here to the Free Marches. So that no one else would get hurt… and to get away from the threat of the Archdemon?"

Sathari was already shaking her head. "A lie to appease your curiosity. I don't know what happened to your parents, but I'm very sure that they were dead before we found you. We had moved up here to the Free Marches long before the threat of the Blight plagued Ferelden."

"What if you were wrong and they came looking for me after you whisked me away?!" Andra's voice was raised now but Sathari hushed her.

"I thought they might too, so I kept the clan in the area for a few weeks to wait around and see if anyone would come back looking for you. No one did. So we all agreed to take you in, to raise you. None of us could have lived with ourselves if we had left you there."

"So… I was just a four year old wandering the Arbor Wilds?" It sounded ridiculous.

"Yes. We never learned where you came from. But you've been a miracle to this clan and we all love you very much."

Then a thought came to Andra as she recalled her time with the Inquisition. "Isn't the Temple of Mythal in those wilds? Did I come from there?"

Sathari merely shrugged, "I don't know. And none of us thought to find out. We've heard the stories of the elves that live in the Temple. They are unkind to strangers and the risk was too great."

Andra slouched, taking everything in. This morning was proving to be more eventful than she wanted it to be. This all felt beyond her. She had never dreamt of learning such things, and this grand lie tore at her. It meant Andra was not Dalish, she was not born into her clan, and while she tried to tell herself that the origin didn't matter, in the back of her mind it made her feel suddenly detached from everything she thought she knew.

"I'll start my journey there," Andra said to herself.

"The Temple?"

"The elves might still be there. Hopefully, at least Abelas might."

"You don't have to go, Da'len." Sathari pleaded. "Your Vallaslin is gone and it's okay you want it to stay that way… I could come up with some explanation for the rest of the clan."

"No," Andra said curtly, "No more lies." And then she got up and left the Keeper's tent.

It wouldn't take long for her to pack her things and be on her way. The Arbor Wilds weren't unreasonably far away. Nor was the Temple of Mythal, for that matter. Andra would have her answers soon enough, she hoped. If the elves were no longer there... Well, Andra would face that later.


ELVHEN USED:

Da'len: "Child"

Vallaslin: Blood writing. Dalish receive these markings around 18, sometimes younger. When of age, the elf prepares by meditating on the Gods and the Dalish, then by purifying the body and skin. When the time comes, the Keeper applies the blood writing—in complete silence. Cries of pain are taken as a sign of weakness. If the elf cannot tolerate the pain, they are deemed unready to take on the responsibilities of an adult and the Keeper may make the decision to stop the ritual.