Chapter 10:

But then again...

Kiera

But as the door closed I found myself wondering— Sten was indeed disturbed by what he had seen in the Fade, and seemed too much affected by it. The sloth demon was capable of choosing images to manipulate, and it only needed the slightest hint of desire—and this made it successful.

Did this mean that—no, it was stupid. Sten was the one I'd least expect to have such notions. It was why I had decided to travel with him, it was the safest option while I… while Ferelden—what that had been— still echoed in my heart.

Now I really did not know what to think—his obviously frustrated words had struck at something in me.

The karashoks had indeed brought back my armor and weapons—they had removed the entire chest where these were found—where Tevinter slavers had kept them, and left it outside my door. Their considerations for my gender were indeed rather… touching.

But I knew that the underground entrance awaited scrutiny, and I began making a list of things—supplies that I could pick up in the market when dawn broke.

Maker only knew I didn't feel like sleeping that night.

It was only hours later, when I'd decided to check my beloved platemail that I found that the slavers had cut the leather straps and metal fastenings during their bid to get them off me. Bastards. Now I needed to find a blacksmith—and these repairs would require much more time to complete.

Buried under my armor and blades were books, a few of which detailed Tevinter troop movements on the island—things the kithshoks would undoubtedly find useful—and a single tome that detailed something I would never have expected in the hands of some dullard like Romulus.

It contained some very powerful blood magic, enscribed in old Tevinter, encrypted in what seemed to be the Grey Warden ciphers from long ago.

How interesting.

xOxOx

The wound on my thigh was close to being completely healed, I had been forced to hold off on sealing it entirely, the healers (or should I say healer, for she seemed to be the only one willing to approach me) seemed to enjoy fussing over each daybreak.

"The Grey Wardens heal fast," she marveled when she examined the gash, the look in her eyes feverish with interest.

"I never noticed." My words were careful and evasive—I had hoped that none of them would ever realize that I had sped up the healing process.

The human female was clad in grey and was younger than the others, but her movements were as practiced as the senior healers. She seemed entirely too happy and eager as she entered the room.
"But it looks like you'll be fully healed in a matter of hours," she began, a strange disappointment that clouded that cheery tone.

I watched her stare intently at my wound. "That's good— right?"

"Yes, I suppose so. Perhaps that explains your numerous scars…you probably do not mind getting hurt, do you? I mean—given that your body has the ability to take care of its wounds swiftly."

I remained silent, but I knew she had not meant anything other than the usual exacting and directness which the qunari were infamous for. The numerous markings on my torso were the result of countless instances of sheer stupidity and carelessness, of which I'd have many more if I wasn't a mage.

The healer began packing the numerous supplies which she had unloaded upon her entry; the vials were numbering in the twenties, having changed the fabrics which were wrapped around my injury. I couldn't help commenting as I helped her with the bottles—it was refreshing to meet someone not as fixated upon silence as most qunari.

"You seem… different from the others. Were you born here?" Perhaps she was a late convert. It certainly explained her free tongue.

"Oh um...no. The qunari found me when I was eight—I was a Tevinter slave. I was glad to leave with them."

"I'm sorry. That explains your… sunny disposition." I didn't know what else to say.

The woman chuckled, nodding quickly before standing. "It's quite alright—the others are traditional, and are naturally wary of bas like you, Warden. Qunari are actually quite capable of expressing emotions, but they feel no need to do so."

"Are you a qunari, then?" This conversation was suddenly immensely stimulating. She seemed willing to chat—and her manner suggested only her ambiguity about living within the Qun.

"I've embraced the Qun, if that's what you mean. Otherwise… I wouldn't have minded attempting other religions. Shanedan, Warden."

The healer nodded and left—I found myself intrigued by her behavior, but then I realized how rude I had been. I hadn't even thought to ask for a name.

P.S.: Next chapter will have some... consequences. XD Thanks for reading! Please review!