sorry I'm late!
Here is a new chapter of Siris of Tevinter. I hope you'll like it!
After Solas going Maker-knows-where, Siris find a place in the village; thanks to Ser Jean. If everybody is releaved to have a Healer, and don't seemed to care if she's an elf or not; things don't go well for long. Indeed, Mother Bérénice called for a group of Templar to come. are they here for Siris? Are they renegades? How much trouble will they be?
The night was calm, with a thin line in the sky as the moon; and a little breeze to cool the summer heat. The village was still mourning the death of the last member of one of the families, the little baby Sir Nicolas tried to save. But the harvest took over most thoughts... and so did a group of Templars.
They came three days after the storm, marching and grandstanding; they ignored the Revered Mother and Knight-Captain Jean, to only talk to Mother Bérénice. As soon as it happened, Ser Jean asked one of the local farmers to let Siris live in his house until the templars were gone. His excuse was that if she stayed, the Templars won't have enough room. The true reason was that they looked at her in a way the Knight-Captain did not like. They were not interested in putting her in their beds. It was more like they were trying to figure out her "game". And if they discovered the source of her knowledge… Maker... No one wanted to know what would happen if they figured that out.
The villagers took advantage of the young elf's relocation: soon, Siris became the Village's Healer, not only the Chantry's. Thanks to Healer's help, Siris successfully deliver a baby, took care of a child under the effects of a sun pain, manage to convince the local barman to quite alcohol during the day and took care of a great many injuries due to the harvest; while overseeing Ser Nicolas' recovery. But that particular mission was a difficult one. His injuries were great and he was in terrible pain, but the young man always looked forward seeing her and smile each time she would visit him.
No, the true problem was the other Templars. There was something unhealthy about them; but neither Siris or Healer –or Knight-Captain Jean for that matter— could figure out what it was. And the "intruders" were not so keen to let Siris get close to them. Not that she wanted to. Ser Jean did ask the young elf to avoid them as much as possible; which had to mean something.
Siris was sitting under a small shelter used by the farmers to protect them from the sun when they would take a break. The moon was high in the sky, and the sun far behind the ridge of the mountains. Most villagers were either finishing todays work by putting away their tools; or by drinking and singing at the local bar. Siris could hear them joyfully drink for afar. And she smiled each time her new benefactor would sing a tune with his friends. Monsieur Gaspard could not sing. But everybody, especially his wife and children, enjoyed him doing so: it was so funny that one would easily forget the downsides of one's day. But if the man and his family were done with the day, Siris still had a lot of work to do.
She started the day by scouting the village's surroundings. As usual, Healer taught her everything it knew about the plants or minerals they would encounter. If nothing was worth noting, the spirit would talk about different illnesses or injuries. Recently, it was mostly about technics which could help either Ser Nicolas about his injuries or the farmers in their their fight against the summer's sun or vicious animals and plants. Hornet stings were, at the moment, the worst; and many farmers told their children to stay as much as possible indoors; while the blacksmith tried to find the nest. So far: no luck.
late in the morning, the young elf spotted the templars scouting the area. So, Siris went to check on Ser Nicolas. For that, Sister Emma would always help. Thanks to her dedication, the young templars was doing better than expected. Each time Siris checked on the wounds, they were scaring just as planned: not too fast, not too slow, no signs of infection. As suggested by Healer and with Ser Jean's authorisation, Siris cut the young templar from Lyrium. Not completely though. She would put three drops in his water three times a day. At first, he was not feeling well. But soon, Nicolas started to go over the withdrawal's effects. He was sleeping poorly because of the nightmares. However, Siris was working, with Healer, on a way to calm these terible dreams down. So far, so progress have been made with a light relaxing potion and some good quality conversations.
He is a young athletic man in good health who lost a lot of blood. Healer explained. His body can recover much faster from drugs addictions. But I don't know how Lyrium withdrawal will manifest itself in the long run. It seems he is doing better, but we must remain vigilant.
The biggest risk was the "I'm feeling better" feeling, when in reality, deep in the body, things were getting worst. But Ser Jean was highly invested in the young man's future. If Ser Nicolas could get rid of his addiction, others could. And perhaps templars, in the future, will know the notion of "relaxing retirement". So, the older man would let Siris experiments few tricks, as long as he could understand her explanations.
After visiting Nicolas, Siris help with different problems the villagers faced everyday: hornet stings, sun burns, dehydration, cuts, bruises… then, at the end of the day, the young elf was working on sorting plants. During the harvest, a woman found a great deal of plants that were not supposed to be in the fields. But instead of throwing them away, she collected them for Siris, in case some could be useful to the healer. A great woman this farmer was! Basil, Elfroot, Chamomile, Embrium and even some Royal Elfroot! With this, she will be able to make medical mixture and potions, just like Healer showed her in her dreams. And to sort all these plants out, Siris had help: Sister Emma. The young lady said she offered her help because helping in such manners was doing her job, the Maker's will and such… but Siris could feel there was more.
Emma was young, but too shy and too devout to be out of the chantry more than an hour per day. However, since the Templars showed up, she would spend the entire day outside and come back as late as possible. The Mothers said nothing: helping the others was part of their duties. But harvest was hard work, and so was blacksmithing. At some point, everyone in the village agreed that the chantry Sister was more useful with Siris. The elven woman appreciated the help; and the talks. Emma was more talkative than she was willing to admit. With their daily activities, the two women had plenty of time to know each other better.
Following Ser Jean's advises, Siris never told anyone that Solas was not her husband. So, Sister Emma truly though Siris was in pain because the elf dumped his wife in the middle of nowhere. But little she knew that her new friend was upset because of her tattoos' disappearance. Another thing Siris and Jean put on the terrible husband: villagers were told Solas hid his magic from Siris and revealed it by taking away the ink on her face.
"We can still see the scars." Sister Emma said, while carefully taking the elfroot's leaves off their stalks. "I've been told making the tattoo are very painful."
Siris froze at the memory.
Bound with magic and chains.
Two crazy girls using their magic to mark the elven slave's face.
To see how painful, it was.
To see if that would make Siris more "Dalish".
To see how exotic, they could make a common slave.
"I—I'm sorry… I did not mean to hurt you…" Emma whispered, putting her hand on Siris'.
Drove by her instinct, the elven woman took her hand back. Slaves must not touch humans…
Slaves?
When Siris looked back at the Sister, she knew her gesture was misinterpreted. If only Southerners knew how different their ways were…
"Very." Siris said, trying to fix her clumsiness. "I suppose the Dalish clans must do it better, less painful. They have more experience."
"I can't imagine how life must have been in Tevinter." Sister Emma shyly said.
Everybody in the village knew that Siris was tevinter. They assumed she got away from slavery thanks to the intervention of her "husband". But Siris let them speculate. They did not need to know more about her.
"It must have been a relief when Monsieur Solas saved you."
Siris could not help a smile. Solas? Saving her? Not really. Quite the opposite in fact. But that was not a story Siris could tell a Chantry Sister. Moreover, no one saved her from Tevinter but Healer, the spirit still living in the Fade who made her its apprentice. But the elven woman was not going to tell her that.
However she needed to break the awkwardness between them, at least a little. So, Siris decided that telling her story would help getting along. However, she skipped the "I was almost killed by Darkspawns then got saved by a spirit; before saving an ancient elf getting out of his prison" part.
"I saved myself." Siris said. "I met Solas later."
"Really?"
Sparkles exploded in the Emma's eyes. She was like a kitten in front a tasty piece of tuna, very interested and hungry for good stories. Who could blame her; she was born in a village even smaller than this one, and only knew story from the Chant of Light. No many travellers came threw this village, and sells stories from the farmers were not as entertaining as the ones a healer from Tevinter could have.
"I wanted to join Ostwick, in the Free Marches, to put some distance between Tevinter and myself…"
And Siris started to tell her story. How she met the good warrior Rainier and the strong-willed mage Lady Caravel. Then, how she arrived in Kirkwall, her feelings towards the place. The city belonged to Tevinter once, and was one of the biggest hub of the slave-market. She described it to Emma with as many details as she could: the Chantry Sister was thirsty with details and stories, like a child. Then, the elven woman told how the Guard-Captain let her in the city, and how she introduced her to the Champion of Kirkwall. When Emma asked why, Siris though it might be a good idea to avoid the subject of a grey warden apostate running a free clinic in the sewers… So, the elven woman said that Lady Hawke was in love with an ex-tevinter slave (which was the truth) and she was helping any slaves on the run.
"When I had enough information on the city and how people live in the South, I was advice to go to the alienage. It was a dreadful place, but I met good people there. However, I was far from imagining how much trouble I was in."
"What happened?!"
"Well… In the city was hiding a malificar, a blood-mage. He stricked elves by pretending running a free clinic at the port. When I first heard of him, it was from a victim who manage to escape him. But the dangers were great and she was scared to say anything. So, I volunteered to go to the Circle and seek the Templars' help. I was supposed to give a letter I wrote, but my southern was so bad the Knight-Captain asked me for more details! It must have raised the murderer's attention, because next thing I know, I was captured. When I woke up, I could see my Master's friend, Magister Danarius. In his will, my master gave me and the other slaves to Lord Danarius. Since I was the only one left, he wanted his property back. But he came in person because Lady Hawke's friend used belong to him."
"Maker! That's awful! What happened next?"
"Hawke and her lover came just in time to save me." Siris said, her heart painfully squeezing in her chest, as she remembered the gory fate of the generous elf named Garon and his family. The elven woman did not have the heart to tell that story. Not yet. "But it was a Templar who made the difference."
"Really? Who was he? Or she?"
"Knight-Captain Cullen. He supressed Danarius' magic, and pin him down with his sword. He was so fast; my eyes could not follow! It was amazing! And scary! Then he freed me and carried me outsi—"
"Knight-Captain Cullen? He hardly deserves that title."
Siris and Emma turned their heads at the sounds of a deep voice. Knight-Captain Fernand, leading the little band that Sir Jean was trying to keep away from Siris.
Ser Fernand was a forty-year-old small human with brown hair, grey eyes and pale skin. His armour seemed too big for him, even if he had the muscle structure to wear it. As Siris looked at him, she couldn't stop remembering when she first met Cullen. She remembered his skin, strangely blue veins under his pale skin… Blue veins. Bluer because of the lyrium. Then why did Ser Fernand look abnormally red?
"A good job with the child." The man continued, talking about Ser Nicolas. "His templar time is finished. But I'm sure the Maker will find a use of him."
"Do not talk about Ser Nicolas as if he was already dead." Sister Emma shyly intervene. "The Maker look kindly to the ones who sacrifice themselves for others."
"He gave up his legs for a dead baby." Ser Fernand spat. "there is nothing glorious about that."
"Templars don't seek glory, do they?" Siris bluntly interrupt. "Or perhaps the Southern Order is no better than the one in Tevinter?At least Ser Nicolas did what was right."
The templar looked at her carefully, an unhealthy grin on his face. He was offended, cold anger and his twisted dementia was showing a bit. If he could rip the young woman's head off, he would have done it. However, doing it in front of a Chantry Sister was not a good plan. Siris' guts were screaming: "go away! Go way!". And deep in her skull, she could feel Healer watching, worried, uneased. It was the first time a "new" Templar would be that close and the two accomplices agreed that if it happened one day, Healer was to watch carefully. Figuring out what was wrong with these soldiers was very important.
"You must be the famous "Siris" everyone in this village holds so dear. The Knight-Captain Jean tries really hard to keep you away from me." Fernand said.
"He does not." Siris replied. "As the only healer around, I have very busy days. Beside, why would I waste my time with someone doing just fine? Speaking of which, Sister Emma and I have much to do before supper, you may leave us to our work."
"Or what?"
"Or, if you can't help being a burden to us all, we'll move to monsieur Gaspard's house, where we'll be able to work in peace."
Sister Emma held her breath. The templar was steaming. Siris clenched her fist on her dress to hide her trembling hands. If she was in Tevinter, she would be served as sacrificial slave for the next ritual. However, not being in Tevinter did not mean she was safe. Many Templars went rogue to chase apostates across the south. And if Ser Fernand's company seemed to be loyal to the Chantry, it was their words against their actions.
As the silent became tenser, Siris invited Sister Emma to help her pack the plants to move them to Monsieur Gaspard's house.
Nothing else happened.
Ser Fernand remained near the shelter.
The two women arrived safe and sound to the farmer's house. When the work was done, Sister Emma went back to the Chantry. Siris prepared food for her generous hosts, a speciality of her homeland. Even without some of the key ingredients, it was still delicious. The children wanted more.
Siris could not stop thinking about the templar. Her hands were nervous, her heart was anxious.
She went to bed, but could not sleep.
Next chapter very soon.
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Bonne Lecture!