Brehan followed Fenarel and Merrill back to the camp silently. Merrill was talking to Duncan, but the words failed to register. He was only dimly aware of the stares of the others as they entered the camp. Marethari rushed towards them. "I'm relieve you have returned!" Her gaze flicked to the shem. "And I did not expect to see you again so soon, Duncan.'

"I was not expecting to return so soon either, Keeper." Duncan's voice was grave.

"Dare I ask of Tamlen? What did you find of him?" Her eyes went over each of them in turn.

Brehan shot Duncan an angry look. "The Grey Warden says we will find nothing."

"I see." Marethari leaned on her staff for a moment, her face lined with grief. She turned to her apprentice. "Merrill, what about the mirror? Did you bring anything back?"

Duncan spoke before Merrill could reply. "I can answer that, Keeper. I destroyed the mirror."

Marethari drew herself up and gave him one of her disapproving looks. Brehan felt a stab of irritation when the shem failed to be cowed. "I intended to use it to find a cure for this mysterious illness. I trust you had good reasons for your actions?"

"There is much to discuss, Keeper. I have learned a great deal since I was last here."

"Let us speak privately within my aravel then, Duncan." She looked back at them. "Merrill, warn the hunters. If darkspawn are about, I want the clan prepared."

"Ma nuvenin, Keeper. Right away." Merrill scampered off. Brehan watched her go. For a moment, he considered telling Marethari about the piece of mirror Merrill had picked up, just to see the expression on the ignorant shem's face. He shook his head. There would be time for that later, after the warden was on his way out of their camp.

"Da'len," Marethari called his attention back to her. "Allow me some time to speak with Duncan. Seek us out at my aravel later, and we can discuss your cure."

"Very well, Keeper," Brehan said. He gave the warden another look, but the man's face was unreadable behind the tangle of fur on his face.

"Tell Hahren Paivel what has occurred. He now has the sad task of preparing a service for the dead. Follow me, Duncan. I am eager to hear what you have to say."

#

"He is tainted, isn't he?" Marethari said as soon as they entered her aravel.

"Yes," Duncan replied simply. There was no use dragging it out.

"I was afraid of that the moment you said you were a warden." She sat down. "His behavior..." She sighed. "Brehan and Tamlen have been friends their entire lives. It was rare indeed, to see one without the other." She wrapped her arms around herself. "To lose them both..."

"Brehan's situation is not hopeless," Duncan said. "I am on my way to rejoin my fellow wardens at Ostagar, and have several recruits already. If he survives until then, we may be able to help him."

"There are herbs, potions that can stave off the effects of blight," Marethari stood, and began to rummage through parchment.

"One of the other recruits came from the circle tower, and has some skill at healing. If you can provide instructions, she can treat him."

"I will write them out." She found a pen, and set to work. After a moment, she looked back up at him. "He will not want to join you."

"I can exercise the rite of conscription."

She shook her head. "Do that, and he will flee you the first opportunity he gets. Let me convince him." She went back to scribing.

Duncan watched her patiently. It seemed the trip to Ostagar was going to be more interesting than he thought.

#

Hahren Paivel's eyes met Brehan's, and the elder immediately began shooing the children away. "So you return with the Grey Warden, but without Tamlen. What happened, da'len? Is he truly lost to us?"

"It's my fault." Brehan kicked a rock into the fire. "I failed the clan." I failed Tamlen.

Paivel wrapped his arms around Brehan and held him for a moment. "You've done nothing of the sort, da'len. Do not blame yourself." He looked up at Brehan, and sighed before stepping back. "It seems the will of the Creators that I sing the dirge for those I held in my arms as babes. I think I know why our immortal ancestors would sleep."

He stood, gazing into the fire. Brehan watched him a moment, then joined his own voice to Paivel's recitation. "Swiftly do stars burn a path across the sky, hast'ning to place one last kiss upon your eye. Tenderly land enfolds you in slumber, softening the rolling thunder. Dagger now sheathed, bow no longer tense. During this, your last hour, only silence."

Brehan felt tears burning the back of his eyes. "Will you prepare a service for Tamlen, please?"

"Of course. We've no body to return to the soil, but we shall still sing for Tamlen. The Creators must come to guide him to the Beyond." He sighed. "Tell the keeper it shall be done before the clan is ready to move on."

"Thank you, Hahren," Brehan said. He turned and started to go, but the elder's voice stopped him.

"You know, it's imperative now more than ever to pass on what we know to the young." Paivel set a hand on Brehan's shoulder. "Let us tell these children of the fall of the Dales. You can honor me by sharing in the telling."

Brehan met the storyteller's eyes. He knew what the man was trying to do, and loved him all the more for it. He nodded, and Paivel smiled as he gestured for the children to approach once more. Paivel's voice rang out, strong and clear. "Children, hear of the fall of the Dales! Hear the tale of what makes you Dalish..."

Together, they wove the story. Brehan even managed to stir himself to make a few additions, and Paivel smiled even as he shook his head in disapproval.

"We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path," Paivel recited.

Brehan's own voice rang out, strong and firm. "We are the last Elvhenan. Never again shall we submit."

Paivel watched the children return to their play before looking back to Brehan. "The Oath of the Dales and no smart-mouthed comment? Thank the Creators for small mercies." He opened his mouth, then closed it again and sighed. "I will let you get on with your business now."

Brehan nodded, and walked away. He shot a glance at Marethari's aravel, but neither the keeper or warden were visible. Fists clenched and unclenched as he fought the urge to scratch at the strange sensation beneath his skin. Once the warden was gone, Marethari could work her spells and everything would be fine. He saw Ashalle's worried glance, and walked towards her.

"Thank the Creators you're safe! I questioned the keeper's wisdom at sending you off while you're still sick, but my doubts were misplaced." She ran a worried hand over his cheek as she had so often when he was small. "Tamlen isn't with you. Is it as everyone fears?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Brehan said. He regretted the harsh words almost immediately, and set a hand on her arm. "We never found his body."

"Oh, poor dear." Ashalle's eyes welled up. "This is horrible news!" He drew her to him as she started to weep, and felt tears of his own fall into her hair. She clutched him to her tightly, as though afraid if she let go he would also vanish. "Please, take care of yourself and get better. We can't bear to lose anyone else."

"It's my duty to protect the clan first." He smiled down at the woman he thought of as his mother.

Her smile was fierce and proud. "As you always say. But you can't help anyone if you're dead, can you?" She held him to her again, then her eyes went past him to where the warden and keeper were exiting the keeper's aravel. "I will see you soon, my dear. You make me very proud."

#

Duncan watched the young man stride towards them, and gave him an appraising look, mentally comparing him to his other elvish recruit. The Dalish was considerably taller and broader in the shoulder, but then, Brehan was at least five years older than Jerath, if not more. His facial tattoos were tinged green, and Duncan found himself wondering what the pattern represented. He spoke as soon as the young man reached them. "Your keeper and I have spoken, and we've come to an arrangement that concerns you. My order is in need of help. You are in need of a cure. When I leave, I hope you will join me. You would make an excellent warden."

To his disappointment, Brehan's rejection of the idea was immediate. "Me? A Grey Warden? This is madness!"

Marethari stepped to Duncan's shoulder. "This is not madness, da'len. Your survival depends upon it."

"The darkspawn taint courses through your veins." He saw from the young man's eyes that he'd only confirmed what Brehan had already suspected. "That you recovered at all is remarkable. But eventually, the taint will sicken and kill you, or worse. The Grey Wardens can prevent that, but it means joining us."

"I will not join out of pity." Brehan squared his shoulders and lifted his chin defiantly as he glared.

Duncan sighed. "This is not simply charity on my part. I would not offer this if I did not think you had the makings of a Grey Warden." He glanced at Marethari, and decided to lay everything out. Misleading this young man would only cause further difficulties down the road. "Let me be clear: You will likely never return here. We go to fight the darkspawn, a battle that will take us far from your clan. But we need you, and others like you."

"I would rather take my chances." Brehan shook his head, and gave Duncan a contemptuous look. "No, I refuse to go."

Marethari's voice became firm, and Duncan watched as the young man began to wither under her words. "A great army of darkspawn gathers in the south. A new Blight threatens the land. We cannot outrun this storm. Long ago, the Dalish agreed to aid the Grey Wardens against a Blight, should that day arrive. We must honor that agreement. It breaks my heart to send you away. As it would to watch you slowly die from this sickness. This is your duty, and your salvation."

Brehan looked over his shoulder at where an older woman stood on the hill. His shoulders slumped. "If this is my duty, then I will go."

"I welcome you to the order." Duncan tried to keep his voice kind. "It is rare to have a Dalish among us, but they have always served with distinction."

Marethari stepped past him, and took Brehan's hands in hers. "I know you'll do your clan proud, da'len. Take this ring. It is your heritage and will protect you against the darkness to come.

"A valuable gift," Duncan said. "So... are you ready to go?" The sooner they were underway, the better. By now, Saitada would be starting to worry.

"I would like to stay for Tamlen's funeral." Brehan did not meet his eyes.

"We have much ground to cover," Duncan sighed, then relented. "But I cannot deny you that. Say your farewells... then we must be off."

"Come then, da'len. Before the Creators guide you from us, let your clan embrace you one last time," Marethari took the young man's arm, and drew him away.

Duncan remained near the wagon, watching the clan and trying to remain unobtrusive. Smoke from the fire carried the words of the elven song through the trees. Brehan's voice was rich, and clear despite the grief that was visible on his face.

One of the elves that had met him in the cave, Fenarel, approached Duncan while Brehan was making his farewells. He held out a small, carved token. "For luck," he said, looking up at Duncan. "Andruil, the huntress. It seemed appropriate for a warden."

Duncan accepted the token. "I thank you."

"Safe journeys, Hahren," Fenarel said before walking away.

Brehan joined Duncan a moment later. He gave only the barest nod. Duncan returned it, then started away from the camp.

#

Brehan twitched his shoulder uncomfortably as they entered the small village. Duncan led him towards a two story building. A man exited just as they approached. Brehan recognized one of the hunters he and Tamlen had terrorized earlier. He started to give the warden a cheerful greeting, and then he caught sight of Brehan standing there. Brehan narrowed his eyes. The shem gulped, stumbled backwards off the porch, and then scrambled back to his feet and ran.

Duncan looked back at Brehan, and Brehan smirked before giving the warden a nonchalant shrug. Duncan merely shook his head and entered the inn.

A dwarven woman with the reddest hair he had ever seen immediately waved. "There you are. We were starting to wonder if we should go look for you." She nodded to Brehan. "You're looking a bit healthier than the last time we saw you."

"Andaran atish'an, durgen'len," Brehan said.

"Atrast vala," Saitada replied, completely unfazed by his use of elvish.

Brehan saw Duncan's lips twitch slightly. "This is Brehan. He will be joining us."

"That's one way to blow the dust off the silver vein," Saitada said. "I'm Saitada." She turned towards the others and pointed them out in turn. "This is Brosca, Lenore, and Jerath."

Brehan glanced at each in turn. Another dwarf, a shem tower-slave, and a flat ear child. Wonderful. Duncan gestured for him to sit, and he did so reluctantly. The shem woman leaned towards him, her face eager. "I've read about the Dalish. Do you really travel in land ships?"

"Aravels," he said.

"What?"

"They are called aravels," he said, his voice curt.

Before the mage could respond, Duncan spoke. "Lenore, may I have a word?"

She nodded, and followed Duncan to another table. Brehan saw Duncan take out the scroll case Marethari had given him, and began talking to the mage quietly. Saitada glanced at them before turning back to Brehan. "Bow or sword?" she asked.

"What?"

"Your preferred weapon. Bow or sword?"

"I can handle both," he said, curling his upper lip. He glanced at the flat ear, and noticed the child was wearing a sword. He smirked.

#

Lenore looked over the notes that Marethari had provided. She furrowed her brow at the formula before nodding at Duncan. "I can handle this. We may need to pick up some more ingredients."

"Marethari gave me enough for a couple weeks," Duncan said. "And claims that Brehan will be able to find many of the herbs needed." He glanced over at the Dalish elf, who appeared to be putting no effort into making friends with his new companions.

"This is fascinating," Lenore said as she went through the scroll. "I wish I'd been able to talk to her. Maybe if we get another chance later."

He left her to going over the scrolls, and went back to the other table. Brosca was glowering at Brehan, and Saitada was starting to look frustrated. "Perhaps it is time we all got some sleep," he said in an attempt to forestall hostilities.

"Good idea," Saitada said. "The only problem is they only had two rooms available, each with only two cots."

"Room in the barn," Jerath said quietly.

"Barn works," Brehan shrugged. Better horses than shems.

Duncan frowned then nodded. "We will need to get an early start. We still need to pick up the rest of the supplies from Highever before we head on to Ostagar."

Lenore gathered the parchments, and Brosca followed her up the stairs. The two elves headed for the outside door. Saitada watched them go before raising an eyebrow. "That boy is full of sod."

"I assume you mean Brehan."

"I'm going to trust you had your reasons for recruiting him."

"There was little choice in the matter. He has the blight." Duncan frowned. "He and a friend encountered it in that cave. We were not able to recover his friend."

"Well. Shit." Saitada sighed. "Explains why he's cranky." She nodded. "I'll tell Brosca to cut him some slack." She leaned back in her chair. "Lenore and Brosca are getting along well. Brosca even managed to get Jerath to string together a couple sentences." She smiled, then gestured for the innkeeper to bring over a couple drinks. "You don't look eager to follow your own 'get some sleep' advice."

Duncan laughed, and accepted the drink the innkeeper handed him. "What is that saying of yours? Time is rusting? We know the darkspawn are massing, and we know where..."

"But we don't know when. There were spawn in the woods?"

"They were drawn to an artifact in the cave. I believe they were stragglers, rather than part of a larger horde. This area should be safe a while longer."

Saitada shook her head. "Woods on three sides, and no palisade. Unless we defeat an archdemon at Ostagar, safety is about to become an illusion."

#

Brehan woke the next morning. He started to go over to wake the flat ear, then realized that the kid was already up and packed. He felt a stab of irritation. "Morning Garret," he said.

"Jerath."

"What?"

"My name is Jerath."

"Whatever," Brehan replied. He bundled his bedroll together quickly, and tied it on to his pack before sliding down the loft ladder. He heard a gasp behind him, and turned to see another of the hunters from earlier. The one who had wet himself. Brehan gave him a slow smile, showing a hint of teeth, and the man immediately turned and fled. Brehan laughed, then glanced up at the flat ear.

He frowned. Jerath was already busying himself with bridling a donkey. Brehan approached, and looked the beast over. Compared to a halla, the thing was ungainly. He sniffed. And smelly. He glanced back at where the shem had fled. "I thought he was going to wet himself again."

Jerath didn't respond. Brehan looked at the sword the kid had hanging over his hip. It was styled similarly to the one the shem warden had carried. "You any good with that?" Brehan asked, indicating the sword. He got a shoulder twitch in response. "How does a flat ear join the wardens?"

"The same way anyone else does, I expect," Jerath said. He started putting the pack saddle on the donkey.

#

Duncan came downstairs to find Brosca already finishing breakfast. The dwarf took a drink from his tankard, then smiled. "Just missed Jerath. He said he'd get the donkey packed up."

Duncan nodded then held up three fingers to the innkeeper. He could hear Saitada and Lenore making their way to the common room. Brosca kicked a chair out for him as he approached the table. The two women arrived just as the innkeeper set plates down. Lenore nodded to Duncan. "I mixed a batch this morning."

"Thank you." Duncan glanced at Brosca. "Has he been in yet?"

"Jerath said he was still asleep. I told him not to wake the duster until the last possible second."

"Give him a bit of time," Saitada said. "Perhaps he'll be more pleasant company after a good night's sleep."

#

They entered the barn just in time to see Brehan punch Jerath. The smaller elf stumbled backwards as Brehan came at him, still swinging. Duncan and Saitada immediately ran forward. Duncan grabbed Brehan's wrist as Saitada interposed herself between the combatants. Brehan was cursing in elvish. "That's enough," Duncan said. He tightened his grip as Brehan tried to pull free, then used his greater size to pin Brehan against a stable door. "I said that's enough."

He glanced over his shoulder. Jerath was sitting on the ground, blood streaming from his nose. Saitada pulled a cloth from her pocket, and offered it to the kid. Lenore went to Jerath, and her fingers started to glow slightly as she worked a quick healing spell. "What the hell is going on here?" Duncan demanded.

"None of your business, shem," Brehan practically spat.

"I beg to differ," Duncan told him.

"My lord?" a small voice said. Duncan turned towards the sound. A woman, old enough for just a tint of gray to show in her hair, stepped out from one of the stalls. "Perhaps I could clarify?"

Duncan nodded at her. He looked at Brehan, then released him. Brehan glared, but made no further attempts to continue combat. "Speak," Duncan said.

"I picked this up," she held something out. Brosca took it from her, then walked over to Duncan. "I was looking at it when that man caught sight of me. I think he believed I had stolen it from him. The boy attempted to intervene."

Duncan looked down at what Brosca was holding. The trinket was obviously elvish. Duncan held out a hand for it, but Brehan snatched it before Brosca could hand it to him. It disappeared into Brehan's belt pouch, and the Dalish glared at him.

"It must have dropped while you were packing," Duncan told him.

"I didn't drop it. She must have taken it when we weren't looking."

"I see. So naturally, when you couldn't take your ire out on an unarmed woman, you decided to punch a boy half your size." Duncan folded his arms.

Brehan had the good graces to look ashamed of himself. Duncan looked over at Brosca. "Finish packing. The sooner we are on the road the better." He looked at the woman. "Are you alright?"

She stepped further out, then gave Jerath a worried look as he stood up. She frowned. "Maker, you've got blood all over you." She glanced at Duncan. "I'm fine. His shirt is ruined." She wrung her hands a moment. "I'll be right back," she said before running out of the barn.

Jerath wiped the rest of the blood from his face. "I had just finished," he said, glancing at where Brosca was leading the donkey out of the stall.

"Then let's get moving."

"I haven't had breakfast," Brehan said.

"Well, that sounds too bad for you," Brosca said, glaring at him.

Brehan started to protest, and Duncan shot him a look. The elf went silent. Duncan was leading them out of the barn when the woman returned, carrying a parcel. She thrust it at Jerath. "These are too small for my son, but they should fit you, warden," she said.

Jerath's expression was startled as he accepted the parcel. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Maker go with you, wardens," she said, stepping back so they could pass. Duncan gave her a nod of farewell, and began the journey towards Highever.