Thanks for reading ! Additional translations at the end of the chapter.

Solas was in the little cottage the seeker assigned him. They were back from the Temple of Sacred Ashes for four days.

He was wondering about this elf who was bearing the mark.

When he first heard of a survivor, and the glooming green mark on their hand, he decided to come himself. He was not far away, in order to keep an eye on Corypheus' use of his orb. And fenedhis did things go wrong…This survivor…It was unexpected but if the mark was what he thought – what he intended to bear himself…Despite the chances, he had to come. First, in order to determine if he could claim it for himself, of course.

Knowing the current situation, he was not surprised of the reaction of the woman in front of him. He had raised his hands and put his staff on the ground. Finally, Cassandra allowed him to come and see by himself. She was suspicious and stayed beside him during his first session with the prisoner. He did not really care – not like she was able to understand what he was trying to do. When it became clear that he was too weak to transfer the mark, he took a decision: keeping this woman alive. This whole disaster was not his doing but nonetheless, his mistake.

He stayed near her for days, forcing his will upon the mark. He knew the second he was near her she was a mage, but did not share this piece of information. A powerful mage even, he had to grant her that. Her being an elf was unexpected and, somehow, ironic. Maybe something elven remained in these recent elves…How could she have survived – even barely – the Anchor without that? No mortal could…Theoretically. She was both a mystery and an unexpected element. But again, so had been Corypheus. Fenedhis it went so wrong…Maybe her at least will be a better surprise than the first one. Thought he, bitterly. Right, as if a she could be anything else than unfortunately predictable. He did not even look at her. There was no point.

When he finally met her – awake – he paid her not that much more attention. Her magic sounds familiar…Elvhen? He dismissed the thought. The Anchor. Through it, your magic is bounded to hers and this bound echo in you.

He was supremely irritated but her potential state as a member of the Qun. However, the few words they had exchanged in elvhen told him more: she had a strong Dalish accent, as he suspected. Yet, she did not look at him with the disdain of the Dalish. Considering her obvious habit of not letting her thoughts known, it did not mean a lot.

On the other hand, were her actions. Saving the scouts of a hostile organization holding her prisoner, for one. And the last rift they closed. She had kept her magic secret until then, probably because she had no trust in the seeker – he could understand that. And yet, she did not hesitate to reveal it to save both Cassandra and him, putting herself in a mortal situation. He was not sure if it was courageous, idiot or due to too much confidence. Maybe a bit of the three. Still, there was a nobility in the intention, he could grant her that.

He was not sure yet what he was going to do. He was still an apostate in a Chantry-related organization. It was not the best situation. Especially considering his current state. He was not powerful enough to take the chance of staying here, surrounded by a growing, likely hostile-to-be, army.

He was now in the cottage, checking his packages. Whatever his decision, he wanted to be ready to take his leave swiftly if needed. Someone knocked on the door. He raised a skeptical eyebrow and stood up. He reached the door in a stride and opened to find the white-haired elf. He frowned a bit to the war-paint on her face, covering the Ghilan'nain vallaslin he knew were under. They had been made quickly, with blood. She was still in this not-being-elf-affiliated idea, obviously. He could not blame her for that, even if he doubted the efficiency. He glanced instinctively at the mark, barely giving attention to the tattoos. Still seemed stable.

"Herald, do you need anything?" Her face remained impassible even if she was irritated by the new title. She did not point out. She barely knew the man and don't call me that was not the best way to begin a conversation.

"Solas, do I bother? I can come back later." Asked she. He realized he had barely opened the door and spoke rudely considering his still frowning eyebrow. He softened his face and opened properly to invite her in. She nodded. He pointed her a chair and took one nearby. She finally resumed.

"I did not mean to barge in, Varric told me where to find you. I just wanted to thank you properly." He looked at her, slightly surprised.

"For what if I may ask?"

"For preventing the thing on my hand from killing me? Again?"

"No thanks needed, Herald." He knew he was cold. He didn't want to antagonize her but he had no intention to befriend her either.

"They are, actually. When someone save your life, I am fairly sure courtesy requires you to thank the person." Why does she insist so mu – You sound as if you are refusing her thanks. Right.

"I appreciate it, Herald. If we are to exchange thanks, I owe you one as well." She raised an eyebrow.

"Why that?"

"You save the seeker and me from an unfortunate situation in the Temple." She waved the thought away.

"Don't thank me for that, I hardly did anything." He smirked faintly. Did she realize the nonsense? She felt the untold comment and resumed "It is not the same. We were in a fight together. This is how a team work, you got the back of your companions. You saved my life outside of a fight, in which situation you do not owe me any kind of support. When you enter the battlefield alongside with someone, it is different." He frowned a bit, trying to understand her logic. It weirdly made sense…Somehow. He finally nodded, thoughtful. There was a form of wisdom in her point of view. He relaxed a bit and shook his head with a silent chuckle.

"The chosen of Andraste. A blessed hero sent to save us all." She smirked a bit.

"Am I riding in on a shining steed?" He smiled slightly.

"I would have suggested a griffon but sadly, they are instinct."

"Well they said that of dragons once and look – Wait, what about a dragon?" A sparkle of excitement jumped into her eyes. He muttered a light laughter. His face grew serious but remained softened.

"Joke as you will, posturing is necessary. I've journeyed deep into the Fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clash to reenact the bloody past in ancient wars both famous and forgotten. Every great war has its heroes. I'm just curious what kind you'll be." She ignored the second reference to her as a hero in ten minutes. I'm no hero, never been, never will be. She was more interested in his other words than in his question.

"What do you mean, ruins and battlefields?" He glanced at her with an imperceptible look of approbation. She was curious.

"Any building strong enough to withstand the rigors of time has history. Every battlefield is steeped in death. Both attract spirits. They press against the Veil, weakening the barrier between our worlds. When I dream in such places, I go deep into the Fade. I can find memories no other living being has ever seen." Her eyes widened the slightest. It sounded amazing. Relive memories like that, discover the past and its mysteries…Creators, the man could even have seen Arlathan! But she could not ask that, way too Dalish-concerns.

"You fall asleep in the middle of ancient ruins, isn't that dangerous?"

"I do set wards. And if you leave food out for the giant spiders, they are usually content to live and let live." Is that just me or does he sound pretty satisfied of himself? Well, I'll grant him that, it is impressive.

"I've never heard of anyone going so far into the Fade. That's extraordinary." Extraordinary? Unexpected adjective to say the least...He smiled genuinely. It was nice to talk to a mage not close-minded by the Chantry doctrine.

"Thank you. It is not a common field of study for obvious reasons. Not so flashy as throwing fire or lightning. But the thrill of finding remnants of thousand years old dreams? I would not trade it for anything."

Flashy maybe but useful and deadly…And is our aloof apostate a secret romantic or is it an impression of mine? His voice had grown softer and smoother as he spoke, it was touching. The man was really passionate about his study. And there was reason to be, it was incredible. She knew already this was not their last discussion about it...He must have learnt so much…Maybe he could even teach me? Apparently, her curiosity and interest in his studies answered somehow the previous question about the hero-thing, as he resumed.

"I will stay then. At least until the Breach has been closed." Her green-blue lagoon eyes examined him questioningly.

"Was that in doubt?"

"I am an apostate mage surrounded by Chantry forces and, unlike you, I do not have a divine mark protecting me. Cassandra has been accommodating but you understand my caution." She nodded, her eyes suddenly harder. As if she took a decision, she looked up to him with determination.

"You came here to help Solas. I won't let them use that against you." Is that so?

"How would you stop them?"

"Any way I have to."

His face relaxed and his eyes softened. He could not be sure but…He actually believed her. She seemed honorable and he did not think she would say this lightly. No, she meant it. For once, he truly looked at her and not at the mark. The confidence on her posture, the resolution in her eyes, the recklessness in her features…He replied earnestly.

"Thank you."

"Tel'isala, lethallin." She smiled. He smirked and noticed with a discreet playfulness.

"We are not on the battlefield."

"Indeed, but one should be thanked for its deeds and not its words. Don't try to beat me with my own playbook." Added she as she gave him his smirk back. He found himself smiling slightly once more. He grew serious after few seconds.

"But now let us hope either the mages or the templars have the power to seal the Breach."

"Indeed, that – "

She interrupted herself as both their head spun towards the window. Someone was shouting, horrifyingly loud outside. The voice was angry. They frowned and exchanged a look before jumping on their feet. They rushed outside the little cottage. The voice seemed to come from outside the town. She frowned as they arrived closer. She knew that voice, it was –

"I want to see the basalit-an, bas!"

"I don't know who you are talking about and I will not let you in if you don't calm down!" Mahariel's eyes widened and she spoke her thought as she ran.

"Isskari?"

She sped up her jog, ignoring Solas' questioning look. He had a hard time keeping her with her but still followed. Varric joined them, obviously alarmed by the shouts as well. He looked at Solas for insights but he simply shrugged, having absolutely no idea if it was a threat or not.

The white-hair slammed the door and declared, voice loud enough to reach the Qunari and the blond human male on the left.

"Kost, Isskari."

Soldiers surrounding the Qunari man, swords pointing at him, as much as the blond human and the Qunari himself turned to her. She ignored the humans and let a genuine beam took her lips as she saw she had indeed recognized the Qunari voice. The tall horned grey-skinned man smiled and his voice resounded as he waved the swords away.

"Shanedan, Basalit-an."

He scowled menacingly as the soldiers who were already putting their swords back up to prevent him from moving. The blond man glanced at Mahariel. She had no idea who the damn he was and sincerely did not give a damn shit right now. She heard her giant of a friend grunting to the soldiers.

"Ashkost kata, basra!" Varric intervened.

"Curly, I think you should let the man pass."

"I shall not let an unknown Qunari – " His eyes stopped on the elf's hand and his back straightened. "Herald. You know this man?" She raised an eyebrow but the dwarf spoke first, preventing her from being particularly unpleasant.

"I think this has been made obvious, Curly." The man frowned but signified the soldiers to step back. The elf nodded.

"Thank you…?"

"Cullen. Commander of the Inquisition forces."

"Duly noted. A pleasure." She turned back to Isskari and smiled once more. The Qunari grunted.

"Are these men going to try to stab me if I touch you, Kadan?"

"I think they took the hint."

"Good."

The Qunari tilted and took her in his arms. She started, not used to such display of affection from the man. He straightened, lifting her from the ground. The scene was almost comical, considering her thin frame. It would have taken three of her to match the Qunari width. The jaw of the whole audience dropped, a hug not being what they expected from the giant. When he finally let her feet found the ground, she stepped back and she extended her arm.

"You are alive, Kadan." The Qunari nodded and he grabbed her elbow to give her the gladiator-style handshake.

"So are you, my friend." He looked at her face and snorted "I might have proper paint if you need." She laughed, releasing his arm.

"Could be an idea, indeed."

She turned to glance around. Well, obviously, no one thought the reunion of two friends deserved any kind of privacy. She cleared her throat.

"Commander…" She gestured to the soldiers. He seemed to hesitate, not at ease with leaving their Herald alone with the Qunari. He finally nodded and bowed slightly.

"Herald."

The soldiers did as well as they took their leave. Solas and Varric remained aside and she noticed Cassandra presence nearby as well. She looked at the Commander, going right to Cassandra and grabbing her elbow to tell her something. She nodded and walked with a not-so-subtle haste to the door. Mahariel snorted.

"And he just told her to find Leliana along with some spies to watch." The Qunari nodded.

"They don't know you very well, do they? What with the Herald?" She snorted.

"Bas vashedan."

"I see." He glanced to the elf and the dwarf. She nodded. Varric probably did not hear but the elven hearing of Solas let him overhear well enough. She spoke not louder to address him.

"Ar dirth ma harthas, lethallin. Varas." I know you hear, lethallin. Go away. Solas looked at her and loudened his voice.

"I was not, lethallan."

"Funny you heard that anyway."

Both Qunari and dwarf nodded to him. Himself had to admit he had been pretty stupid to answer. On his behalf, he was not listening. He could hear but was not eavesdropping on purpose. The elvhen caught his attention. Varric and him took few steps towards the door and she did the same with Isskari on the opposite direction. Her face grew serious.

"I guess there is no one else left?" He shook his head.

"No. The others were after the Tal-Vashoth, closer to the explosion. I was at camp, studying a particular saartoh-bas we had found earlier. You might like it by the way. Take a look."

He handed her a hilt which was tied to his belt. She examined it. Interesting, a staff made especially for arcane warrior, to form a less mana-consuming spiritual blade. Impressive, she had seen sketches of such staff in Tevinter but never laid her eyes on one. Funny to find that in the south.

"A blade of Tidarion. The Laetan who became Archon. Fought like a commoner but with the magic power of his rank. And cold elemental magic. Nice." She sighed "Par Vollen sent you to kill me, didn't they?" He laughed.

"This order came years ago, Basalit-an. They were not happy of us working with you, considering you refused to convert. They did not send orders yet. No one told them you were the one with the glowing mark able to fix the sky, I think."

"Still, my guess is your orders had always been to kill me if I left the care of Salit. And I cannot come back with you to resume my mission in Minrathous. So…" He gave a small sad smile.

"Actually, Salit negotiated your release of our care before we left the Imperium. Well, you understand me, you were not officially prisoner, but as you pointed out, we were to kill you if you stopped working with us. But, as a Basalit-an and a Kadan, the Qun is ready to trust that you will not share any sensible piece of information."

"You do realize I do not own any sensible piece of information, right?" He shrugged.

"I know. The worst you could do is to reveal your magister you worked with Ben-Hassraths all along. That will be an incredibly stupid thing to say, he will kill you right away." She snorted.

"Yes, I would rather keep this piece of information to myself too. No word arrived from the said magister at the camp, by the way?" Asked she with fake-genuine concern. She had kept to herself the said magister asked her to spy on the Conclave as well.

"You are a weird one, Kadan, you need to stop befriend with everyone. It will bring you troubles." She laughed light-heartedly.

"If I did not befriend with everyone, I would be dead by now." He considered and nodded.

"Granted." He looked at her outfit "What are you doing exactly with all the tattoo visible? This has no sense."

"Believe it or not, the very people calling me Herald wanted me dead few days ago."

"Confusing the reader, Hissrad?" She smiled.

"Good job, don't you think?"

"You covered the elven ones." She nodded.

"Anyone would think twice before attacking the Imperium or Par Vollen. I don't trust the humans to think as long before raiding Dalish Clans."

"You have a point. Rethsaam."

"Rethsaam." Echoed she. The Qunari dropped the saddlebag settled on his shoulder and opened it. He handed her a package and then two little circular boxes.

"Take that, Kadan. I figured you might want your second antaam-saar as well as your other armor. I was right, considering this one has been obviously fixed by some basra."

"I was happy enough with them fixing it at all."

"Still, not the proper antaam-saar of a Basalit-an. I drew some blueprints, in case you need more. There is proper war-paint in the boxes. Black and dark red. As you like." He finished with another sad smile. She turned to face him fully.

"I take it this is goodbyes, Isskari?"

"I have to go back to Par Vollen. Anaam esaam Qun." She sighed and stretched her hand again.

"May I never meet you on the battlefield, Kadan."

"Agreed. Panahedan, Kadan."

They exchanged a warm handshake and a slight bow of respect. They parted solemnly, Mahariel turning back towards Haven, packages under her arm. She could feel the numerous eyes on her. She knew she could not avoid the eyes so she had taken the Qunari somewhere well visible but with the advantage of having no hidden spots for spies. She could still avoid ears and it was the important point. She could have soundproofed them, but soundproofs had this tendency to look suspicious.

She was relieved she did not get to fight the last survivor of her Qunari friends. As she was back near where the recruits were training, Cassandra walked quickly to her. The elf smiled and nodded her greetings.

"Seeker."

"Herald. Care to tell us who was that?" The voice was not menacing but firm enough to tell her she was not going to be satisfied by some question-answer Orlesian-style. Mahariel smiled.

"A friend. He was with me when we arrived here. I'm relieved to know he is alive." The genuine answer obviously flustered Cassandra who considered her a sec with wide-eyes.

"I did not consider you might have lost people as well in the explosion." She shrugged.

"There was no time for personal grief."

"I guess you are right. So, you did come with Qunari."

"Weren't the mercenaries engaged for the security Qunari as well?"

"You were with them?"

"I did not say that." Cassandra looked at her, obviously displeased with her come-back to this type of answer.

"Herald, I am not your enemy." Mahariel judged her few seconds before answering, very serious.

"I am not keeping things from you to antagonize you or protect myself, Seeker. 'Tis too late for that. Be honest how many assassins came during the last days?" Cassandra started and hesitated. She finally let out.

"I did not count when you were prisoner. It was to be expected considering you were the main suspect for the explosion but since you stabilized the Breach…Five."

"Mainly Crows?" Cassandra nodded.

"Three of them. The remaining, unaffiliated "

Unafiliated…So, likely – and hopefully – mercenaries who knew of the reward on her head. If they were disorganized, it meant the headquarters did not know yet and they were acting from their own initiative…The doing of young assassins, potentially over-confident, convinced they could take the target out without help. Good. Over-confidence meant they did not share their hunch with the Guild…Hopefully.

"See, I know who is against me. And now, we can add the Chantry. My point is, I don't keep things from you to protect myself. I keep things for me because, if these insights spread, these people will go further than just me. The less everyone knows, the more everyone is misled, the more my true people are safe." Cassandra tilted her head.

"Yet, you tell me this, admitting you are not what you appear to be." Mahariel gave her a lopsided smile.

"Take it as a proof of good faith. And besides, what do I appear to be?" Cassandra snorted.

"Point taken. I…Understand, Herald."

The elf looked at her as she went and thought a bit. Her enemies did not know her true name. No one did, except for her former clan and some elves of the Denerim Alienage. Without further insights, without her clan name…She could as well be a city elf. She sighed. I'm going to regret that. But that might be the smartest move for them to stop minding my business. She grabbed the seeker's elbow before she returns to the dummies.

"Mahariel."

"Excuse me?"

"Mahariel. That is the real proof of good faith." The information hit home.

"This is your real name."

"Not sure what a real name is, but the oldest I've had, yes."

"This is elven." Mahariel smirked.

"I think the part where I'm elven was already quite obvious with the ears."

"No, I mean… "

"The city of Halamshiral in Orlais and Solas in Tevinter bear elven names as well. Does that make them more elven than other?"

"Once more, point taken. I guess this is already something. You don't seem Dalish anyway."

She kept her face absolutely unreadable, even if it did hurt a bit. If it was an attempt of the seeker to see the truth, that had been subtle…No, likely just a thought she spoke up. Whatever. She turned around and was surprised to spot Solas at the door, looking at them both. As she passed near him, he spoke with a low voice.

"A composure unlike the usual misplaced pride of your people." She raised an eyebrow, containing her irritation.

"You assume quickly you know more of me than most, lethallin."

"You have vallaslin."

"Do you know what the Dalish are to the city elves? Would it be so surprising to see some elves of an Alienage mimicking the blood writing of their fabled cousins?"

She barely stopped a sec in front of him and indicate him the gates with a glance. She definitely did not want to continue this conversation, but not stopping would have shown her irritation. Instead she resumed.

"Was insulting the people you suppose mine your contribution to the investigation duty?"

"If it was, I would have to admit I failed at this task. Definitely a difficult one. What do you have here?" He pointed her packages.

"My friend brought me proper war-paint, my other armors as well as blueprints for the antaam-saar." She turned to him with a bit of mischief "Want one, lethallin?" His nose wrinkled.

"I will have to decline, Herald." She stopped in front of her little cottage and smirked.

"A pity, I'm sure it would suit you. Maybe shall I offer one to Varric, would be quite the sight. Well, it has been a pleasure Solas. If you may excuse me, I have blood to wash and war-paint to do properly." He smirked faintly and nod his goodbyes.

"Mahariel." She raised an eyebrow.

"I would have told you too, Messere. You should know eavesdropping is a poor habit."

Salit: leader rank in the Ben-Hassrath

Isskari: Ben-Hassrath with the duty to retrieve magical artifacts

Kost: peace

basra: foreigner

Bas vashedan: foreigner's bullshit

Kadan: (my) friend (/in this case)