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Could it be more awkward?

They left in good terms, but Siris still left her friends' company to wander the woods alone. And know, she barely knew anything about them. To catch up while his team gathered the supplies, Thom Rainier invited the young elf over a drink at the Gull and Lantern. The place was crowded with people: mostly mages. There were a few Tranquils too: it was easy to spot them as they were the only remaining quiet in a corner. But at least people ignore them. Anyone who spotted the human with the elven woman gave them the look; as they knew they were no mages. Apparently, it was vulgar.

"I'm glad you survived. This war is bad. And I've seen my share of battles." Rainier said. "Where have you been?"

"Emerald Graves, for the ruins." Siris simply answer as a waitress put two ales on their table.

"I know you're not exactly fond of alcohol." Rainier said. "but please, humour me. It has been quite some time since I last saw you."

Rainier was one of the very few humans Siris would willingly try to please. If it comforted him to see her drink a bit, then why not? She took a sip… Alcohol was not her thing, in general. But beer or similar drinks were the worst in her opinion. The face she made put a large –relieved—smile on Rainier's face.

Thom Rainier…

He changed since last time they saw each other. He shaved his beard, and now was keeping it short. He did his black hair in a bun. It suited him. But what was the most interesting about him was his armor. Blue coat, metallic pauldron, one arm covered with armor, the other one protected by leather and his shield during combat. On the large leather strap traveling from his shield arm's shoulder to his belt, over the metallic cuirass, was a large disc. It bared a symbol Siris did not know. When she pointed out, the man tried to hide a proud and honest smile. His took it off and offered a closer look. It was a griffin holding a daffodil in its beak. On the over side of the disc was written "Thom Rainier, "Blackwall" of the Order of Ara'val al Atisha".

"Ara'val al Atisha? It's elven." Siris noted.

"It means "The Long Journey to Peace"." Rainier agreed.

"Indeed." Siris said, amazed. "What is this order? How did it get its name?"

"Well…"

Rainier took a moment to gather the right words to describe his new family.

"The Ara'val Order is rather new. After you left, I met this Warden who had a problem with his order's authority. He wanted to live by his order's ideals, but the inside politics were too much for him. So, he left the order with some of his brothers and sisters and offered a second chance to people… like me. Not allowed to call themselves "Grey Wardens" anymore, they decided their own organisation. It was the elven member of the group who came out with the name."

"It's a good name." Siris smiled. "And what does "Blackwall" mean?"

"Literally: a black-wall." Rainier grinned. "It doesn't mean anything, it's a title... and a name. The title's equivalent is "Commander"; but the name belonged to the man you started it. He died a few days ago… ."

Rainier seemed sensitive to that particular death. After mentioning it, he talked about the man, this Grey Warden, for half an hour, always with sadness and grief in both his voice and attitude. But He felt truly proud of what he was doing. The Ara'val Order was new, but its good deeds already reached many ears. The members: all criminals seeking redemption, were task to help: defend the defenceless, rebuilt homes, heal the sick, feed the poor. Every small effort was good; as long as they do not fall in their old ways. For Rainier, it was easy. The shame he still feels for the murders he committed kept him in checked. But while drinking his ale, he told Siris they had to give one of the men to guards in Denerim because the man started selling lyrium to civilians. Siris was however wondering about something… Grey Wardens could recruit criminals in the name of the Greater Good. In their mind, if someone has to die, at least let it be for a good cause. To be able of doing that, the Order fought five Blight and had to strike a deal (known as "the Grey Warden Treaties") with the great nations of Thedas. All that took a great deal of efforts, many deaths and centuries of sickened lands. No matter what are this Ara'val Order goals and how much champions of the little people they are, in the nations eyes: criminals are criminals. Especially murderers like Rainier.

The young elf asked the question and Rainier had an answer. He wasn't fooled by the shiny uniform and title. Being a "Blackwall" changed nothing to his current situation, nor to his mind. He was still convinced to be an abomination; but if his efforts allowed others, in the future, to have a second chance in life, to redeemed themselves… then why not give it try? The man had a new light in his eyes, but Siris could still see the shadows of his past cloud them.

When the pints were empty ("Blackwall" made Siris a favour by finishing hers), the two got out of the tavern: the looks on them were beginning to feel awkward. The young elf explained the simpliest way possible what happened to her these last few months. The lest weeks were mot entertaining, but she kept herself from telling her friend who she met Solas. Telling him she was captured by revenants then forced to free an ancient being most people call "elven god" would not make things easy. However, she did consider telling him the truth. Having another mind and pair of eyes looking for that blighted magic orb could be beneficial… However, it belonged to Solas; and he made it clear that he wanted a minimum of humans knowing about that artefact. And Siris could not blame him. In her researches, back when she was a slave in Tevinter, she read ancient scriptures about these orbs. Meant to cumulate magic power other time, they were extremely powerful objects used both for archiving greater knowledge, building empires… and destroying them. In the wrong hands… Siris preferred not to think of it. It was hard enough to adjust to the South, process all the knowledge Healer she injecting in her brain anytime it could and deal with Solas' ego. Imagining a catastrophe would not help the young elf to feel better.

"You seek passage to Haven, then?" Rainier said. "If your friend is worried about the Conclave, I can't blame him. My team and I will leave in the afternoon. You are welcome to join."

"Thank you, Domne." Siris said… then closed her eyes as Rainier gave her the look.

"I believe we've been through this already." He sighed.

"I apologies." The elf said. "Old habits."

"I know how hard they die…"

The two friends remind silent the rest of the walk towards the Ara'val's squad. There were three humans including Rainier, two dwarves, and one qunari. All were relatively nice. Or at least polite. The qunari was not talkative, which wasn't a bad thing according to Rainier second-in-command, Ser Emline Vaquier. Apparently, the giant was intelligent enough to use a maul on the right person –the enemy— but that was pretty much it. Concerning Emline Vaquier, she used to be a Grey Warden, and an Orlesian noblewoman before that. After making some wrong decision while playing "the Game", she ended up in such disgrace that only the wardens could help her save face. She was not a gentle person. When she fell in Siris' field of vision, the elven woman could not help but imagine a cold intelligent woman with an addiction to sex and power. She made both men and women unconfortable, no matter what species these were. Even the dogs did not want to get anywhere near in fear of being killed or raped… and Siris was certain Emline Vaquier would have sex with animals if it could give her a bit of power. How she became Rainier's second-in-command did not involve any sexual activities however… not with the man himself anyway. The Blackwall whispered he did not want to understand: one day she was nothing more but a foot soldier; the next day she was captain under his command. And the order came from the very top.

"I don't want to know why Clarisse agreed to this…" Rainier muttered as the team was packing their things. "Can't be innocent…"

Clarisse was the one who took the lead of the order after Blakwall passing. She used to be a Warden too (still was as far as the Blight was concerned), but followed the Warden-Constable when he asked her to help him in his project. Commander-Blackwall Clarisse was apparently a honourable woman with principles and had a heart bigger than the world. However, her harsh sense of Right and Wrong did not seem to be preoccupied with being influenced by a woman of little virtue such as Vaquier.

But all this was gossip. Siris found them entertaining but useless. She was more concerned about the people Rainier's team was escorting to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Indeed, she was part of a small group: two elves (including her) and four humans. It was too much for Rainier, who was worried about being slowed down while Templars and apostate alike were fighting. The chances of being spotted were greater. But two of the human mages were simply insufferable. They would have follow them whatever the Ara'val's squad wanted it or not. As for the rest, Siris quickly learnt not to like them, even less to trust them. The elven mage, a young man with blond hair and blue eyes, tried to make friend with Siris. But when he told her that he approved of this rebellion, that the mages should be free, the ex-slave did not wish to hear more from him. She was all for freedom; no one could question that. But this war hurt too many people already and these rebel mages can't think of anything else than their own selfish reasons. Southern Circles were not ideal: Siris did visit the Gallows in Kirkwall, and was still terrified of the place. But if the notion of "free mages in the south" meant killing innocent people in the name of power, or knowledge, or worst: freedom… Then let all these magic idiots be locked in prisons.

Siris did not speak her mind on the subject: her life in Tevinter taught her to remain silent even in the most atrocious of situations. However, breathing words were not necessary for the mages in the group to understand her opinion regarding the rebellion. They said nothing… for the moment. But the young woman could feel how upset they were: their eyes following every movement she made, their ears catching every word she articulated. The elven woman could read their faces like Healer can read her thoughts: She's going to give us up. Telle the templars where we are, where we're going. We must act before it happens. But the Blackwall seamed to be friend with her… you're right. We'll wait for the right moment: losing our only protection against the templars is suicidal. And once they have their back turned, what should we do? We aren't doing to kill her, are we? Why not? She's trouble. She doesn't speak right, her accent is strange, she's a dalish elf and hates all mages. She did not say that. She said nothing, and that's the problem. She's hiding something. She a danger. You're right. We'll be careful. When she's alone, we'll deal with her.

They were still inside Redcliff and Siris already made enemies… It was quick. And foolish. However, was telling a lie any better? Reading expressions became so much easier once Healer taught her how to watch a face for clues of symptoms and hurt. Was it a blessing or a curse? Siris could not decide. But it didn't matter how she could tell the mages –in particular the shemlens—wanted her dead. They wanted her dead. That alone should be enough to worry her. She hasted her footsteps, to join Rainier in front of the group.

"You come to me already?" He asked with a smile. "Still trouble with making friends?"

"They don't want to be friends." Siris said, conscious her anxiety made her tevinter accent even worst than usual. And Rainier spend enough time with her in the past to know that. However, he did not understand the exact reasons.

"It will be fine. We'll haste and arrive at Haven in no time, without a scratch."

"Si vos dictus, ma amicus…" Siris whispered.

"What does this mean?"

"It means, "if you say so, my friend"." Siris explained. "Let's focus on the road. I want to join Solas in one piece."

He patted her shoulder and kept moving. She followed without a word. She felt homesick. Homesick. Tevinter was no home to her, yet she missed it. Even as a slave, life was easier: once one knows how to one's master behave, adopting the right attitude made things survivable; and life became easy: you follow order, you fulfil your duties, you are polite and obedient, never complain in public… Repeat as many time as necessary. With any luck, your get in its good grace and the master –provided he or she is a mage— don't milk your blood for his or her rituals. This simple life was the reason why so many slaves don't run away: life could be worst. Even if Siris tried to be a good pet, a good servant, her studies as scribe opened a window to what her life could be… and could not stop dreaming of it ever since. Running away did not work, and she ended up with markings on her face she despise, with cuts on her wrists she had to hide… However, people did not hate her. Being a slave was almost natural elves in Tevinter. They were overlooked, invisible. In the south, her existence was sign of trouble and no matter how she tried to be discreet, she was still noticed by others: dark skin "knife-ears" with a strange accent and dalish scars on her face… Rainier was good to her, a real friend; and Solas… Well Solas was not a "master", which made him somewhat not as bad as he could be.

For the first time since she escaped Tevinter, Siris wished she could be back there, doing what she always did: cleaning and cooking, copying and reading, studying and learning. She missed the quiet in the library, the friendly chats in the kitchen, the exchanges of tips while doing the laundry. She missed the warm too: stepping outside and feeling the air around her pressing on her skin; the warm sand under her bare feet. She missed the comfort of having a roof above her head while she slept; not having to worry about food; or rebel mages, crazy apostates, rogue templars, red templars, ancient proud elven "gods" or powerful orbs of Doom falling in the hands of a potentially even more dangerous beings.

As she stayed close to Rainier, Siris surprise herself hoping that once in Haven, she'll meet with Solas, they'll both go on a short hunt, find the orb and to back to rebuilding their lives; without a hint of trouble.

It was a pious wish.

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Bonne lecture!