A/N As per request by Ciggy Butt Brain I have created Darien using the awesome Dragon Age Inquisition character creator! :D

Just look at the cover image and you can see Darien in all his glory! I'm thinking I'll upload a new image of him every chapter, give you guys all the angles. (It took me three hours to get him right and I snapped like two hundred photos of him just-in-case my game file got corrupted or something, so... yeah I have a LOT of him in my IPod right now.)

Also since College is finally getting bearable I'm able to start posting new chapters again! No promises on how often I'll be able to get them out, but rest-assured I'm still working on this thing.

Also if you haven't checked yet I posted Ch. 22 of Scorpio's Legacy as well as made (or tried to) Scorpio using the Mass Effect 3 Character creator, also because of Ciggy Butt Brain, Thanks again!

Anyway... as always... (it feels sooooo good to write this again) READ, REVIEW, AND ENJOY! :)


"Darien's struggles were just beginning." Varric leans forward as Cassandra looks up at him from the fire. "After consummating their relationship, Morrigan and Darien finally managed to crack their mother's Grimoire to reveal something extremely disturbing..."


"This... I cannot believe- no, this must not be so!" Morrigan slowly shakes her head in disbelief as she holds the first page fully translated.

I reach over and rub her naked back, "Tis not only possible, but probable. It makes the most sense does it not? Why else would she care so deeply for you?"

She whips her head around to scowl at me, "And what of you? Am I simply a play-thing for you to defile and throw away?" I kiss her in response and she pushes me off of her, "This is serious! Do you have any inclination to simply dump me on my back-side after you're done and spent?" Her eyes burn into me with such seriousness you might have forgotten we were both completely naked in her tent.

I shake my head with finality, "NO, of course not, there's a certain principle that applies here that my morality forces me to abide by."

She cross her arms over her bare breasts, "So you are forced to retain this relationship simply because your pride would be hurt if for not?"

I sigh and smile at her as I reiterate, "My morality forces me to stay in a role I oh so enjoy. Even so, I have standards."

She rolls her eyes, "And what are your standards, might I ask?"

I laugh, "If I find happiness with their companionship, without harming another's feelings... I am willing to partake in such transgressions."

She fights back her smile, but fails to contain it and sighs, "Such a romantic. Twas no doubt my alluring fortitude that brought you from your dark hole and into my illuminated tent."

I shake my head as I smile, "Yes, yes, you are so amazingly sexy that I was drawn across half the country filling with a horde of darkspawn just to meet you once more."

She rolls her eyes and laughs contentedly before her smile drops and she looks even more disturbed than before, "I find myself at a loss. Mother's Grimoire defines a ritual able to consume one's soul and steal their body." She shakes her head in disbelief, "I cannot- I always assumed she simply raised me as her daughter out of some strangely wicked need for an apprentice, but I would have never thought..."

I place a hand on her bare shoulder and squeeze it so she knows I care.

She brushes it off and looks back up at me angrily, "I will not sit around like an empty pot waiting to me filled!"

I agree, "We have to make sure she can't survive. She might not die even after we kill her physical form, but at least we can delay her a bit."

Morrigan looks relieved, "I am grateful, I never thought to find another who so fervently wished death upon my mother."

I raise an eyebrow at her.

"But then again I'd have never thought I'd be forming a physical and emotional bond with my own adopted brother. Twas unexpected to say the least that I'd resort to incest as a form of sexual gratification."

I blink at her, "We are not blood-relatives Morrigan."

She frowns at me, "I know that, twas a simple observation. I do not wish to become entangled emotionally with someone so... understanding of my own childhood."

My shoulders drop as I'm reminded why Morrigan was Morrigan.

"Oh." I mutter quietly.

She shakes her head as she sees how downtrodden I am, "I would not take it personally, you are a man, a man with an appealing physique which I find quite exciting." She starts speaking in short, fast phrases. "You're a man with certain... parts. Parts that I require to properly satisfy my more primitive urges." She watches me with a bit less reluctance. "You are intelligent, powerful, manly... Is it not surprising that a woman such as I would flock to your side wishing to be ravished?"

I swallow hard as my throat instantly dries up.

Ok, even though I feel used... that somehow was the sexiest thing I've ever heard in this lifetime. I think it's her voice. Go Claudia Black!

"Ok." Is all I'm willing to squeak out with my increasing... discomfort.

She laughs and places her fingertips upon my chest as she comes closer, "Do you... enjoy it when I speak of how I wish to use you?"

Oh sod...

I cough and gently push her away to keep myself from getting too excited. "Weren't we talking about how to deal with mother?" I ask her, desperate to change the subject.

Her smirk drops into a disappointed frown before she scoffs at me and starts redressing herself. "I do believe that you must go alone brother. Tis too dangerous for me to be there. What happens if she can possess me at any moment while I'm there? Would you enjoy having to satisfy mother's sexual appetites?"

I freeze up and shiver at the thought, "Oh Creators no, I'd rather set my insides a blaze and toss myself into a pit of starving darkspawn then fulfill that duty!"

She smiles at my witty response, "Ah, I see you still have your wits about you. Your mind is still your own after last night's events?" She tsks, "I must say I am disappointed at your lack of a blown mind." She teases.

I shake my head as she tries to fish for compliments again, "No, no twas the best night of my life. You are simply a goddess, how you saunter up to my person and rip all logic away to take-"

She purses her lips with disdain as she fixes her unkempt hair, "Alright brother, that is quite enough." She finishes up dressing her robes and raises an eyebrow at me curiously as I just finish wrapping the black velvet around myself, "Tis a wonder that you lasted so long. I am at a loss for reasons why I found our simple sprint turn quickly into a marathon."

I smile at her as I finish up my own robes, "I have learned much from my many decades of practice sister."

She huffs as we strap our leggings into place, "And where might have you gone where time has slowed so much that you retain your young age and be allowed to advance your wisdom?"

"Through an Eluvian." I say jokingly, but she goes silent and I have to look up to see she thinks I'm serious.

Really? You're STILL hunting down that Eluvian in the Dragon Wastes?

I roll my eyes at her, "Same place you went to find your dreams and compassion crushed into a fine paste for sure." She shakes her head and flicks a chilling breeze through my robes.

I frown at her, annoyed, but still thankful she chose ice instead of electricity.

Small miracles I guess.

I shiver in delight as my enchanted robes magnify my mana pool by three fold. "Come on, we're a league out from where that traveler said he found the Dalish a week ago." I state worriedly.

She notices, "You doubt the Dalish will agree to help the Warden?"

I frown in deep thought before nodding sternly, "I know I used to be one, but Dalish are extremely cagey. The best we can hope for is a short warning before they rain arrows down on-top of us."

She tsks with disdain, "How wonderful."

I smile at her sarcasm and open the tent flap, "Don't worry, worst case scenario we all die in the woods and have our corpses stacked up around the area either for a warning or to be eaten by the werewolves." She stares at me in slight fright and I burst out laughing as she takes it seriously.

"That twas not funny!" She takes her staff and knocks me over the head with it.

"Ow ow! Hehe, creators do you tie stones to your staff?" I say happily while rubbing my barely injured head.

She rolls her eyes and pushes past me to saunter over towards the other's camp site, swaying her hips so I can't help but think about last night.

Oh this is going to be very interesting...


After breakfast, and a weighty briefing about the dangers of the Brecilian Forest, we were off. Erianne had somehow placated Alistair's temper overnight and now I'm simply banned to practice magic within the main camp outside of combat rather than being permanently banished from the group.

Not like I'm using it for anything important. Only enhancing any potions we make to heal us more quickly so we don't die in combat, or regulating the water temperature when I'm cooking so none of us get poisoned. You know, things people could do without. Creators they might as well clip my wings in raven form... Which is the equivalent of chopping my arms off... Yes I'm pissed about it.


A few hundred meters down the trail we come across a small group of traveling adventurers. I immediately recognize them and step up to jump into the conversation.

"Rough travels out here, eh? We even saw darkspawn on the way in!" The supposed leader says as we approach.

Erianne watches them curiously, "Whe-"

"Let me handle this." I whisper to her.

She blinks before looking between me and the adventurers and shrugging as she turns to go check on Bodahn and Sandal's cart.

I turn to the Adventurer and start the scripted conversation, "Where are you going?"

He smiles, "We're delivering a message to the Chantry in Denerim. You?"

"What's the message about?"

He blinks at my directness but answers anyways, "We saw a blood mage around here. We're off to tell the Chantry about him."

Huh, I 'll assume he's taking about the Hermit or Zathrian. Either way this'll definitely mean trouble, even with the civil war.

I fold my arms antagonistically, "I'll be the judge of that."

He laughs, "I thought you said... wait, you're serious?" His eyes widen and his companions start reaching for their weapons.

I smile to ease their nerves, "Why not let us deliver your message?"

He hesitates, but still goes with it, "Er, I suppose that's alright, as long as it gets there. Stay safe!" He hands the scroll over before he declares to his group that their task was done. They all walk off away from the forest and away from all of us.

We all turn back towards the forest and after a few steps Erianne catches up to me.

"Well?" She asks.

I turn my head slightly to see Erianne behind me, looking at me expectantly, "Well... what?"

She crosses her arms and scoffs, "What was all that about?" she raises an eyebrow in question.

I crumple the scroll up in my fist and set it aflame to fall to the ground as ash, "No clue." I walk ahead, but not too far enough ahead to not see Erianne frown at me for the next quarter-mile.


We move on down the road without any trouble and a few minutes later we find ourselves surrounded by century-old trees and thick brush. "Ok, I see some tracks in the dirt, follow me, I'll find the way." I kneel down and examine the small footsteps barely imprinted in the damp dirt, Dalish footprints.


I stand up from my tracking of Elven footsteps in the dirt and follow them further east, "They're this way."

Alistair frowns, "You sure? You've said that for an hour now.

I sigh in exasperation, "Protocol dictates those who find travelers wandering around camp to lay false tracks to see how persistent they are."

He looks around as we all hear a twig snap, "Weird. I thought I heard-"

Suddenly elven hunters drop from the trees to land on lower branches and notch their arrows, ready to fire at the slightest twitch.

I stand very carefully in an alert pose and give my greeting, "Aneth ara! Adahl-arla of Atisha!" (Friendly greeting! Tree-home of peace!)

Seconds pass and nothing changes. Erianne looks about ready to grab her bow when three elves step out from behind a great oak tree in front of us. The one in the middle seems familiar for some reason.

She holds up a hand as she steps forwards, "Hold outsider. Even though you speak our language we have not met," She takes a small glance at Alistair, "And you tread with Shemlin as well. Why are you here?"

I smile and incline my head respectfully as I remember what small bits of my body's past I can muster, "I am Darien, of clan-" My tongue twitches for a moment before I remember, "Dorfarla. I come with peaceful greetings and word of the Blight."

She nods in surprise at my words and allows me to continue.

"Also my companions wish to speak to your Keeper, they are Grey Wardens."

She tilts her head curiously, "That is interesting, not a lie many would attempt. Especially since clan Dorfarla was found slaughtered on the edge of the Korcari Wilds a season ago." She rubs her chin in thought before signaling the hunters to stand down for now, "I will bring you and one warden to the Keeper, the rest must stay here."

I look over at Erianne and she takes her hand off her bow to join me. "That is agreeable, this is Erianne, their leader, she will accompany me."

She blinks in surprise again as she sees Erianne is elvish, but she hides it well, "Then we shall move quickly, the Keeper can decide if your business is worth while warden." She turns to me, "And welcome Lethallin to clan Adahlenan, hopefully you can tell us more of what happened to your clan."

I nod to her even though the pounding my blood tells me that another blood mage is near, a powerful and ancient blood mage.

I didn't think Zathrian was this powerful! I'm not even in camp and I can feel his power radiating off of him. Kind of reckless to have your power so easily detected, but the shear magnitude is just shocking... nearly twenty times my own.

"Keep your guard up." I whisper to Erianne just before we move to follow. She nods subtly in understanding.


Erianne and I follow her through the thick brush and eventually step into a clearing where the famous Dalish Aravels are all parked around like houses inside a small village. All of them packed tightly with just enough room for everything to be easily set up.

Wow... that is some FINE craftsmanship.

I admire the beauty of the elven land-ships until we stop outside one at the center of the camp. Zathrian steps out of his Aravel with his first not far behind. His wise and elderly brows crease in concentration as he stares at us all, "Hmm. I see we have guests." He turns to address our guide with a bit of agitation, "Who are these strangers, Mithra?"

Mithra! Oh, there we go, Creators that was hard to remember. Mithra... damn I really needed to pay more attention to my video games in my first lifetime.

"I have precious little patience and less time to spend on outsiders today." He frowns at her like a disapproving father.

Mithra points to me, "This one claims to be from clan Dorfarla, in the south..." She looks at Erianne for a moment, "and this one claims to be a Grey Warden and wishes to speak with the clan. I thought it best to leave the decision to you, Keeper." She says with a small bit of malice.

Zathrian nods to her, "That was wise of you. Ma serannas, Mithra, you may return to your post.

She responds in kind, "Ma nuvenin, Keeper." She walks away back towards the way we came, still looking miffed at being treated like a child.

Zathrian's gaze lands on me next in a calculated glance, "Emma el Hahren, na souveri shiral sulevin uth." (I am our elder, your weary journey certainly [has been] long.)

I smile as I know exactly what he's saying, "No, Emma serannas, but sa'vunin is revas if na nuvenin it." (No, I am grateful, but a single day is freedom if you need it.) I wince as I accidentally mixed in a bit of common to translate it better, an old habit of mine.

Oh great, now I'm slipping in my native tongue.

What am I talking about? My native tongue is English!

Zathrian sighs without relief, "I am grateful at least one more survived from Dorfarla, I suspect you were Keeper Ledara's First?"

I nod, "Yes, but we can speak of this later." I look over at Erianne.

Zathrian follows my gaze, "Agreed." then looks back to me. "Now allow me to introduce myself. I am Zathrian, the Keeper of this clan, its guide and preserver of our ancient lore. And you are?"

"I am Darien."

"My name is Erianne, a pleasure to meet you."

Zathrian doesn't blink, "If you both came to bring news of the Blight in the south, it is not needed. I had already sensed its corruption." He states worriedly as he starts pacing a bit, "I would have taken the clan north by now, had we the ability to move. Sadly, as you can see, we do not."

"Emma abelas, Keeper." I apologize out of sorrow, my Dalish past playing with my current empathy.

He agrees with a simple nod before looking to Erianne, "I imagine you are here regarding the treaty we signed centuries ago. Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promise we made." He looks at us both with more than a bit of disdain.

"This will require some... explanation. Please follow me." He turns abruptly and we follow him around to the far south side of camp where it seems a medical ward is set up for the wounded.

Elvhen lay on either tables, bedspreads, or the hard ground as they wait for either a cure or a quick death. Their moaning and groaning from the agonizing pain the disease itself burns through their veins echoes out from the small clearing to put a dismal cloud of hopelessness over the rest of the camp.

Zathrian frowns sadly as he steps up to a dying man and hesitates before resting his palm on the poor boy's trembling hand. "The Clan came to the Brecilian Forest one month ago, as is our custom when we enter this part of Ferelden." He sighs before turning around fully to address us, "We are always weary of the dangers in the Forest, but we did not expect the werewolves would be lying in wait for us." His face contorts ever-so-slightly into regret before evening out in terrible sadness.

I saw that Zathrian. You can't hide your secrets from a Doctor of Galactic Psychology!

Zathrian shakes his head in sorrow and fury, "They ambushed us, and though we drove the beasts back, much damage was done. Many of our warriors lie dying as we speak." He shakes his head angrily, "Even with all our magic and healing skill, we will eventually have to slay our brethren to prevent them from becoming beasts." His piercing gaze rests on Erianne, "The blight's evil must be stopped, but we are in no position to uphold our obligations." He clenches his fists in frustration and half-bows out of tradition. "I am truly sorry." His voice speaks of all the pain he has felt over this whole ordeal and Erianne and I can feel ourselves understanding that pain to some degree.

She lost her adopted son to her own revenge and I lost... wow... I lost two entire lives so far to what I am... and more than a few friends...

I push down my own guilt and even though I know the answer, I have to ask, "Is what you say correct? That your hunters are infected by the werewolf's curse?" I allow my confusion at my own duties as a Drifter to bleed through to add to my sincerity.

He slowly nods in agreement while watching me carefully, "I am sad to say it is true, nothing magical or otherwise has slowed the rapid transition to beast."

Erianne swallows in apprehension, "There really are actual werewolves in the forest?"

Zathrian looks at her with mild disdain before moving past us to break out the old history books from his personal Aravel. "There was a time in Ferelden's history when werebeasts roamed the lands in great numbers."

He hands her a tome on the subject, a transcribed copy of an older text I recognize from the binding as Chantry lore. She turns the pages and stops at a rough sketch of a group of men being slaughtered by what looks like a wolf-like beast twice their sizes, breaking their flimsy swords with it's massive claws and biting the head off of one unfortunate soul as they fought. I shudder at the thought of taking on multiple dozens of the creatures.

"Spirits possessed animals and turned them into horrific monsters. The Humans warred against and destroyed these creatures. No doubt their tales of those days grow ever more inaccurate." He eyes me specifically in challenge.

I look away, recalling the broad dissimilarity between multiple Chantry accounts from that time. "I... agree with that statement, although every story does have a pinch of the truth in it, otherwise they would never be kept alive to warn dalen away from wandering into the woods."

He inclines his head in slight surprise at my opinion, "Of course. Whether the Humans believe it or not is not my concern." He snatches the tome from Erianne, causing her to frown as she was trying to read a little poem in the back.

I give her a look to keep her from complaining before noticing something myself. "Werewolves are not unlike abominations, possessed wolves driven into madness."

Zathrian once again inclines his head in agreement and slight surprise at my incite, "The werebeasts are not all gone from this land, and the ones that stalk the Brecilian Forest are proof of this."

"Is there no way to help your men?" Erianne looks at the dying hunters with an empathetic look I haven't seen since... since she killed that poor boy all those years ago.

I brush my hand against her own and she closes her eyes to fight back the tears, sighing as that little touch helps root her.

Zathrian's face is nothing if not filled with sadness and despair as he too recalls his own trauma, "The Affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood, bringing great agony and then ultimately either death or a transformation into something monstrous." He shakes his head and my chest tightens as I pick up on his suffering instantly. Resolve flickers across his face and he looks to me with a hardness I've only seen in a mirror, "The only thing that could help them must come from the source of the curse itself, and that..." He shifts uncomfortably, eying us with only mild contempt, "...that would be no trivial task to retrieve."

Erianne sighs as she hears the silent request, "But you're going to ask us to get it anyhow, right?"

He watches her for a second before responding, "I would not ask such a thing of anyone. You asked, did you not?" She scoffs as Zathrian grabs a map from his robes and holds it out to us. I take it and unroll the worn parchment carefully to find what looks like a land survey from the second age by the Tevinter Imperium. "Within the Brecilian Forest dwells a great wolf. We call him Witherfang." He points to an area deep within the forest, where a small symbol for 'outpost' is scrawled in ancient Tevinter. "Within this ruin is where our scouts believe he rests, his wicked brethren come and go from there constantly."

I look up at him with sharp scrutiny as I don't recall him ever telling us in the game this crucial info, he doesn't even flinch.

He continues, "It was from him that the curse originated, and through his blood that it has been spread. If he is killed and his heart brought to me, perhaps I could destroy the curse," His eyes twinkle for a millisecond with pride before he adopts a look of uncertainty that Erianne picks up on.

"Wait... you mean you don't know that it'll actually work?" She asks incredulously.

He goes to answer that, but I beat him to the punch, "The amount of power needed to create the curse would have not only needed bloodmagic, but a ritual ages old that might even be permanent." My eyes drift to meet Zathrian's and in a moment of mutual understanding I say, "I might be able to assist in this matter, if I could be informed of the ritual that started this mess."

Zathrian cuts in immediately, never taking his eyes off of mine, "I cannot risk any more of my clan, and I cannot ask the last of Clan Dorfarla to risk his life for Adalenan's problems." The hint of concern he displays is noted in the back of my mind as I also note his quick save.

Erianne crosses her arms in slight annoyance, completely oblivious of our silent conversation, "Have you even considered seeking outside help?"

Zathrian scoffs as we finally break eye-contact, "From whom? The children of the stone? The Shemlen? Do you truly think they have the time to spare for us?"

His condescending tone causes Erianne to flinch considerably, "If I help you, we Wardens help you, what will you give us in return?"

Zathrian's face goes impassive again, "We would assist with the Blight, of course, and you would have our gratitude." He looks to me with meaning as he says, "Mala suledin nadas ma-abelas in Adahlen, dareth lethallin." (Now you must endure my sorrow in the forest, be safe blood-kin.)

I blink in surprise before nodding in understanding. "Dareth shiral, hahren Zathrian."

Erianne clears her throat, obviously miffed by her lack of ability to speak elven, "Then I will find this Witherfang for you."

I agree and look to her as I say, "As will I, we've dealt with worse at the tower."

She smiles weakly at the thought.

"I'm sure I do not need to remind you Darien of the creatures that lurk within the Brecilian." Zathrian states, and continues as he sees Erianne giving him a confused look, "It has a history full of carnage and murder you see. Where there is so much death, the Veil separating the Spirit realm from our own becomes thin, allowing spirits to possess things living or dead."

I groan at the reminder that Thedas was a seriously fucked up place, "Everywhere we go it seems we have to deal with spirits, demons, and the Veil." I shake my head at it and Erianne nods her head tiredly in agreement as well.

We've all had our fare shares of experience with the Fade.

"I must return to caring for my people." Zathrian inclines his head and turns away, ending the conversation.


Erianne and I walk back across camp to meet up with the others as they've taken to trading with Varathorn our less useful or valuable loot. I smile as I realize that Mithra got back at Zathrian's treatment by letting them inside the camp without his permission. I wave at Leliana and she smiles before walking over, "How did it go?"

I sigh tiredly, "As well as you'd expect, at least we can stay near the camp, and Zathrian is sending us into the forest to hunt down a cursed wolf's heart so his hunters won't morph into werewolves."

She blinks at me in surprise, "Um... wow..."

"Yeah."

...

She shifts a bit closer and whispers, "Come on, lets go for a walk."


Leli and I take a brief walk around camp, watching the clan work tirelessly to try and prepare for any future attacks, when we come across a stone statue almost lost to time. "The dalish elves are so mysterious and unknown." Leli says while admiring the female elf wielding a curved sword. "I only wish I knew more about them."

I smile and look up, calling upon my body's knowledge of the Elvhen people as I to admire the statue, "That is Andruil, goddess of the hunt."

She looks at me in surprise before blushing, "Oh, I almost forgot you were Dalish! I'm sorry, um... what else can you tell me? I'm curious."

I shake my head and smile brightly at her, happy to share my knowledge, "Andruil, her teachings have guided the Dalish for centuries. There's a saying that's matched with her."

"Do you mind telling me?" She asks with hope and curiosity beaming in her deep blue eyes.

Why do I have a weakness for blue eyes?

I raise an eyebrow at her eagerness, but continue anyways, clearing my throat to properly recite the scripture, "Here me, sons and daughters of the people... I am sister of the moon, Mother of Hares, Lady of the Hunt: Andruil!"

I pause to see her eyes twinkling in admiration and I cough to hide my blush, "Remember my teachings, Remember the Vir Tanadal: The way of Three Trees, That I have given you." I take in another breath and notice a few Dalish stopping to listen in.

"Vir Assan: the Way of the Arrow.

Be Swift and Silent; Strike true, do not waver, and let your prey suffer. That is my way!"

I take another breath, feeling the eyes of over a dozen elves and one human watching me as I continue on.

"Vir Bor'assan: the Way of the Bow

As sapling bends, so must you. In yielding, find resilience;

In pliancy, find Strength. That is my way!"

"That is your way..." The elves echo in both english and elven alike, amazing Leliana.

"Vir Adahlen: the Way of the Wood.

Receive the Gifts of the hunt with mindfulness. Respect the sacrifice of my children, know that your passing shall nourish them in turn. That is my way!"

The crowd of fifty or more all chorus, "That is your way..." but my eyes are on Leliana as she stares at me in awe.

"Remember the Ways of the Hunter, and I shall be with you!" I finish with a triumphant applause from the clan as everyone, including myself am absolutely astonished at my rendition.


A/N Well... that went by fast. :) Good thing with the shorter chapters I can get them out to all of you faster! I'm almost done with the next three chapters of this already. Just waiting for time to upload and edit.

Once again I'm soooo happy I'm getting back to this! I LOVE Dragon Age Origins, and this chapter turned out perfectly. Everything lore-wise I took right out of the game's codex so its all accurate.

Lately I've been taking multiple writing classes and I've noticed how bad my wording really was back in the earlier chapters so... I'm going to be spending some time revising not only this story, but Scorpio's Legacy as well. Just check under the top Author's Note on each chapter to see if it's revised! Give me input on how to make it better! If you see a mistake in grammar feel free to send me a PM, I'm always up for accepting some help.

See you all next time!