New chapter of "Siris from Tevinter"

I hope you'll enjoy it!

The sky was clear. It was so blue, that if the snow around her wasn't so cold, Siris would have thought she was back in Tevinter. Thankfully, she was not. However, the South had trouble of its own. The war between mages and templars was violent since Kirkwall went completely mad; six months or so ago. Six months… time flies fast. During that time, Siris did many things: she survived darkspawn, found a good friend in Ser Rainier -now called "Blackwall" by his allies of the Ara'val al Atisha Order. She visited Kirkwall and forced the templars there to do something about the malificar bullying the alienage. Well… "force" was a big word. She shamed to guilt the Knight-Captain –a decent human named Cullen— who then notice her disappearance when she got capture. Then, Ser Fenris was able to get his revenge and freedom by killing the Magister Danarius. Then Lady Caravel, at the Circle of Ostwick confirmed there was something between Siris and the Fade, but could not tell what. The answer was given by the ancient elven "god" named Solas who Sirs was forced by revenants to free from his prison. Then he noticed his magic orb have been stolen and Siris offered to help him retrieve it. Solas ditched her in a small village in the mountains; right after that a group of templar feeding on a strange kind of lyrium showed up. Few days later: chaos for everyone… yeay! Fleeing to Redcliff, Siris contacted Solas about that "Elder One" she heard the templars talk about; and the ancient elf asks her to join him at Haven, as the Conclave was coming with great haste now. Siris crossed path with Rainier "Blackwall" again and he agreed to escort her and some mages with his group. The mages did not trust her, so they wanted Siris dead "to be sure".

But they arrived at Haven before they could do anything against the young elf.

And Haven was crowded. How could a village be so full of people without suffering from the overpopulation was a mystery. Faith perhaps? Hope? This conclave organised by the White Divine was the source of many conversation: the Templars will win? The mages will win? Will a consensus be found? Circle or no circle? What about the little people caught in the middle? Will there be compensation for the ruined homes and crops? And what will happen if any of these decisions is taken? Will the Chantry honour its engagements? Will the Templar Order follow quietly and stop screaming "IT'S THE MAKER'S WILL" while butchering innocent people with their swords? Will the Mages stop to be selfish idiots?

So many questions and so little answers… One thing was sure though: humans were still pricks. First, they refused Siris' help with the wounded, then accepted her offer to help but kept calling her "knife-ear" and/or "thief". They only give her half a meal per day, and it's always cold; when the humans healers have at least a full warm meal. What about a place to sleep? Cold hard floor underneath the Chantry, near the prison cells. Yeay. And was her opinion on medicine important? Noooooo. Let's not forget humans are the centre of everything: faith, strength, problems and knowledge. What would an elven woman know about healing burns and cuts? Sure, the mages were faster, but living in a Circle most of your life does not mean you are good at healing. And the rest of the healers strongly recommend putting oil on burns, when in truth it makes the wound worst.

Fortunately, Siris was not working with these idiots because she wanted too. She had to justify her presence here, so no one would notice the apostate she was meeting every night behind the Chantry.

"Heard anything?" He asked her in elvish, while sharing a warm newly cooked piece of meat.

Siris bite in the food without thinking twice, starving. She felt Solas eyes on her. He was disgusted at the way she ate: not because she was filthy, but because she was so hungry she did not care about anything else than eating what he gave her, eating with her fingers, eating as if she won't see food in the near future. She felt his eyes on her and knew exactly what he was thinking. For an ancient elf, Solas was quite easy to read. She swallowed the last piece and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. He gave her water, she drank it. Then took another piece of meat. Last time they talked, it was four days ago. She only had two meals, dry, cold and tasteless.

"No one talked about an "Elder One", nor an orb with magic properties." Siris answered in elvish. "I saw many staffs, various magical foci, books about magic… But nothing corresponding your description. What about you?"

"The human "Divine" is here. Tomorrow, the talks at the Temple will start. With any luck, the war will stop and it will be easier to look for my orb." Solas said. "Also, there are more Templars than expected here, but they are too busy picking fights with the mages to notice me listening and asking question around."

"Then… are we in a dead-end?"

Solas remained silent for a moment, thinking about the situation.

"I don't think so. You heard the templars in the village talking about this Elder One who could not make my orb work. There are no reasons to doubt your ears." He finally said. "The Conclave will be a better opportunity than today: it will separate people: the ones at the Temple, the others minding their own business. Whoever this Elder One is, if he is here, then he'll be at the Templer tomorrow. If he is, I'd like you to come with me at the Temple. We'll be able to cover more ground with the two of us. Finding him won't be hard with I'm not serching alone."

Siris agreed. She could not wait for this problem to be solve. When the Orb will be recover Solas, he will go rebuilt his life. These last days, he talked about either building an elven-friendly settlement or finding an ancient elven temple and lay to sleep until the End of the World wakes him up. He was curious about this world, but missed his even more.

As for Siris, she'll go looking for a place to settle. Traveling was good and all, but she missed waking up in a bed and not worry about the next day. In this home, she was hoping to be able to do research about the lyrium, its addiction, the withdrawal attempted by the bravest. Not in a city though… The woods? Or a village? She was done with mountains and elven ruins, but could make her project work in a village. Perhaps she could present her project to the Templar Order or the Chantry. If they are interested, Siris could gain some financial support, lyrium stocks, volunteers and a place to safely do her researches. Yes, this was a nice plan, one Siris could be proud of if she manages to make it real. She went to bed thinking about details like how to order special ingredients for the food, or how much lyrium can be given to safely start a withdrawal process. How many lyrium-addicts will trust their health to her? Will the Chantry help? If she obtains good results, perhaps she could look into the effect of Lyrium on dwarves? Would Ozammar be interested by an agreement? Siris was already imagining how grateful the Templars would be to be free of lyrium without suffering… But then, she remembered she has still a long way to go before obtaining any solid results; even further to go before human southerners trust a Tevinter ex-slave, elven woman, with dalish scars on her face. The way she was treated here, in Haven, gave her all the reasons to believe that it won't change, no matter if Solas finds his orb, no matter if the Conclave is successful.

The young elf closed her eyes. She reached for Healer. It was present, quietly watching from the Fade. They talked a lot. About the Art of Healing, about how various cultures deals with various health issues. Healer explained the few hard facts about dreams and their use for the body and the mind. Siris told the spirit about her thoughts on lyrium. Eventually, the elven woman came to a point where she could no longer concentrate and fell asleep.

Someone touched her shoulder. Siris recognised Solas voice, whispering to gently wake her up. Without thinking, she stood up, got dressed, gathered her things and followed him outside the tent. It was an early freezing morning. The cold was atrocious. The snow was the worst: how could Solas walk in it without loosing his toes? Siris had to wrap her feet with clothes so they won't fall off.

Anyway. The two of them started to make they way to the temple. Despite the darkness, there were already a lot of people on the road. Soldiers, templars, mages, clerics, merchants of all kind… Siris even spotted shifty-looking dwarves, giant Tal-Vashoff mercenaries, few of Blackwall's men (but not him as he had to go back to their Head Quarters in the Storm Coast). In the crowd she spotted a very odd mercenary. Elven male, long red hair, pale skin with green dalish tattoos –Siris recognised Mythal's brand. He was armed with a bow, looking around carefully, but not paying attention to any mercenary bands around. Siris would have looked away if the man did not look so confident. He was not lost. He was not waiting for anyone. Using the legendary light-weight of his elven-blood, he ran on the surface of the snow without trouble, going ahead of everybody. In only a few minutes, the strange elf had already disappeared.

"Did you see that elf?" Siris asked.

Solas lowered his head to look in her direction, but it was too late. She described the man she saw and her feelings about him. Something was not right; and that sensation became more certain each step further to the Temple.

They could see the Temple of Sacred Ashes quite well now. In an hour or so, they'll be there. But Solas suddenly froze. His eyes glimmered in the dark in a way Siris did not like. She touched his arm, he grabbed her head in reaction. He was tensed, like something was happening in his head.

Solas took her in his arms, and magically ran behind a wall, hiding them from the Temples.

"What the—"

The grounded shook. People started to scream and run the other way. Heat melted the snow and ice around them. A blast destroyed everything. Solas and Siris tried to resist, but the wind took them.

The tevinter elf, as she flew in the air, felt her insides move with the speed and the height. Her eyes saw the panick of the people still on the ground, others were trying to instinguish the fire on their clothes, others were burning alive. And Siris saw it.

The Temple was still exploding, like time was having trouble to flow. A large green line shoot itself from the ground, destroying the Temple…

Siris saw Solas flying toward her, shouting "Give me your hand!". She stretched out her arm, her hand, her fingers. She saw Solas' eyes go blue as his magic pushed her to him. Holding on him, Siris saw the ground coming closer faster, and faster, and faster… they landed on the fattest field of snow.

But only silence greeted the impact.

Though darkness closes, I am shielded by flame.

Fin