Sorry for the wait!

That was it. She was screwed... Again.

Dead… Again.

Done… Again.

Doomed... Again.

Hiding in a small alcove with Sister Emma and some children from the village, things could not possibly go more wrong.

It went so fast.

Earlier in the night, Siris closed her eyes to try to rest, and perhaps an hour later, Sir Jean brutally woke her up. Not being as sharp in the morning as she used to be in Tevinter (One might say it's one of the down sides of freedom), the Templar nearly dragged her out of bed by the foot.

"Get up. Get dressed. Pack light. Now." He said, looking carefully at the window.

There were things the young elven woman learned during her years suffering slavery. Rule number one: if an ally wakes you up in the middle of the night and orders you to pack light, you do it. You do it fast. Rule number two: run as fast and as far as you can. These two rules never really helped in the past: Tevinter slavers always catch runaways when they truly want. Which brings to rule number three: don't try to run away from Tevinter slavers… or anybody with power over you.

Siris, however, was not in Tevinter anymore. She put her dress on, grab the always-ready-to-go bag and climb down the stairs. Her hosts were packing two: mother and kids, the father grabbing home-made weapons. Pushed by sir jean, we exited the house using the back door.

It was night, and the rain was the kind to get worst.

Burning wet wood. Shouts. Fights.

Siris did not look back. She grabbed one of the children by the collar to keep the little one walking. They were crossing the field, which was a small hill. They were heading to the path right before the forest, but the wet dirt and the late hour made it difficult. The parents wanted to look back. The woman started to cry as she saw neighbours get slaughtered by crazed Templars. But Ser Jean did not let her mourn. He almost broke the woman's arm as the drag her on the top of the hill.

Hiding between the trees, the Chantry's Sisters, Revered Mother Elisabeth, children and some villagers. Leaning on Sister Emma's shoulders, Ser Nicolas was barely standing up.

"Everybody we can save is here. We need to move." Ser Jean said.

"What?!" Sister Hélène let out. "But there are so many left…"

"At this point, there is little hope for them. I came up against these "templars" and nearly got killed." Ser Jean growled, massaging the bleeding back of this head. "If we stay here, we'll get killed."

"But if we stay together, they'll find us."

A moment of silence as everybody looked at Siris. The elven woman remembered perfectly her failed attempts to run away. Groups were easy targets.

"We should split and go in different directions. And with the Creator's kindness, we might survive these idiots." She said.

"I'm afraid she is right." Ser Nicolas said. "Knight-Captain, what should we do?"

Ser Jean took a moment to answer this question.

"Revered Mother, take the children. Knight Nicolas, you escort them with Sister Hélène, Isabelle and some of the families. I'll go with the rest and Healer Siris. Once you at a fair distance of the village, split up again towards Halamshiral and Val Royaux. Avoid the Emprise du Lion, go around. We will head for Haven and Redcliff. Maker be with you."

As the entire group started moving, the sub-divisions were made. Ser Jean looked behind a couple of times as the Nicolas' group disappeared in the forest.

"Ea bea valor." Siris muttered.

"What does that mean?"

The elven woman had to think for a while. Her mind was so tired, she could barely find her words in Southern Common. Healer came to the rescue.

He is strong. It whispered in Siris' mind.

The elven woman bluntly repeated the words, too tired to think straight.

When you'll rest a bit, you'll have to take a look to Jean's wounds. Healer whispered again. And your friend Emma needs some comfort.

Siris made a mental note of all of this. Everybody was to focus into keeping the pace. No one knew if there were followed, but better safe than sorry. Some of the children were crying. Twins in particular. In Sister Emma's arms, the siblings were apparently separated from their family when the Templars went amok. Their house was the first to be hit, and without Ser Jean, they would have probably been killed. Siris was exhausted, like everybody; But she found the strength to walked a bit faster to reach Emma. Then she took the little girl in her arms. The human toddler seemed massive in the elven woman's arms. But it took only moments for the little girl to calm down.

After hours of forced walk, the group split up again. Emma and Siris stayed together with the twins, Ser jean went with them and another young human who used to work with the blacksmith.

The other group went for Haven, so Siris' group started to climb down the mountain towards Redcliff. It was a long way to the valley, but with the advance they had, the people were confident.

Of course, the rain did not stop one bit.

Children, even as small as the twins, were heavy. The exhaustion did not help. At some point, the young blacksmith apprentice and Ser Jean took the babies from to give the ladies' arms some rest.

"We are still far from Redcliff." Emma whispered, tired.

"We are indeed." Jean muttered.

"Will it be okay for us? We are Orlesians." The Apprentice asked.

"Sister Emma and I are part of the Chantry." Jean said. "They won't turn us and our companions away."

Siris was not so sure. The "red" templars said they worked for the Chantry too. What made the Knight-Captain Jean thinks the Chantry (and the Order) in Redcliff was any better? Her fingers find Solas' necklace around. The stone was resting on her sternum, the magic within sleeping. Siris could call the elven "god". But was she that desperate? The man apologises for how he treated her (no more than a glorified slave), but the fact he did so with a letter made it less sincere in Siris' eyes. Then again, his magic and ancient experience with life could help… Which meant he could be in the other side of Thedas right now… Not really useful.

"Are you alright?" Sister Emma gently asked as the two ladies took the twins from the Templar and the blacksmith apprentice.

"Yes."

The young lady chuckled.

"Your accent gets worst when you are tired."

Siris could not refrain smiled. Being teased like that surely was a good change from her old life.

The group was walking down a slop covered with fat grass when Jean suddenly turned his head around.

"We got to hurry." We whispered, forcing everybody to keep their heads low. "Emma, Siris, bring the twins to safety. The kid and I will distract them away from you; We'll meet in Redcliff."

"What—"

The templar pushed the two women down the slope without much care. Siris and Emma lose their balance and slid. The twins woke up and it took a great deal of reflexes from the adults to cover their mouths before the little ones could even think of crying. From the pain coming from her foot, the ankle sprain was certain. But now was not the time to be delicate. Siris looked around and spotted a small trail going down in a rocky area. Dangerous but best place to hide. She notified Emma with a sign and the two women moved, trying to keep the pain from their wounds bearable, the children quiet and remain as discreet as possible. Once behind a large stone surfacing from the earth, Siris took a brief look up. Red Templars. Jean and the Apprentice were running in the opposite direction, the crazed soldiers on their tails. The darkness of the night and the rain did not help to see, but at some point, the shouts faded in the distance.

Emma pat her friend's shoulder. Siris turn around to see Sister Emma pointing further down, towards a small alcove. We need to rest. She silently articulated. The elven woman could not argue with that.

This is how they both ended up in the small rocky alcove, keeping the twins from the rain, waiting for the sun to show up; waiting for any signs of the templars around them.

"I wish I knew what to do." Emma finally said. "We did no wrong, have we? Why would the Maker send these madmen tormenting us?"

Siris took a moment to think. After a short rest, her Southern Common was more fluent.

"Lady Caravel, a friend of mine, said the same thing to me we learnt what happened in Kirkwall. She has the same name as you, "Emma". She's a good human-mage… Do all Emma-humans-ladies good?"

"I don't think so." Emma chuckled.

"To answer your question… I don't think your Maker sent anyone against us. It simply created people, allow the living to see day light (for most of them, anyway), then just watch what will happen."

"So… our pains and fears are to satisfy His curiosity? To entertain Him?"

Siris looked at the person next to her. Sister Emma was shaking like a leaf, exhausted, in shock. Of course, she doubted about her God. Who wouldn't? Its servants turned against innocent people. The elven woman wasn't the best person to talk religion with; she wasn't clear in what she believed. Not in elven God though, since she recently discovered that the "gods" were—are elves with death issues.

She leaned her head against the wall. To keep one of the twins warm, she bundled the child with her cape. Now, she was freezing. And with the rain not stopping at all, the night seemed to have no end. Emma fell asleep after Siris had a quick look at the woman's wounds: nothing serious, cuts and bruises. In comparison, Siris' ankle looked bad…