Chapter 4 – The Power of Pride

Days and nights had passed since they had left Haven. Brother Genitivi had excitedly sped into the cave, searching for the Ashes but it made little difference to Lyla's mood. Since that day, she had been in a foul mood. Fouler than she had felt for a long time.

Snow was beginning to fall as they reached the road. Winter was coming and it was growing colder by the hour. Ferelden was a cold country, one that Lyla would have preferred to have left by now, her old clan used to winter in the Dales in Orlais, but that was a past life, an impossibility for her.

The clan chattered away, talking amongst themselves and Neria even singing, but there was only silence between Lyla and her heart. Leliana was upset with her and if Lyla was totally honest, she was upset with Leliana.

Andraste was not her God. Not now, not ever. She just hoped they could move past it, but it was Leliana's turn to push. Lyla had tried to talk to her over the last few days but as soon as Leliana saw the makeshift eye-patch she refused to even look in Lyla's eye. Conversations turned colder than the weather and Lyla gave up. Leliana didn't want her that much was obvious now. Her heart was leaving her and there was nothing more she could do. Except deny her faith, and that was not possible.

Once, long ago Andraste had tried to save her people. Freeing them from the slavery they had been under, and the Dalish were eternally grateful for that. Not that they would ever acknowledge it. But as with everything, the Chantry destroyed the peace between them, the Maker twisting the ideas and the beliefs of the shemlen and flat-ears who believed. The Exalted March, they had called it. Extermination was what it was. They attacked elves, killed Lyla's people. The Maker twisted Andraste's vision and Lyla would not allow that to happen with her body. The Chantry and its Templars had violated her enough.

Leliana wouldn't even attempt to listen though. It made Lyla want to cry. Or explode. Or both. Creators, she didn't know what to think. Emotions had never been her strong suit.

The clan was camping now, it was cold away from the fire and the rest of them were huddled around it, but Lyla wanted to give Leliana space. The bard was sitting beside the fire, listening intently to Natalie and Alistair discuss some shemlen noble, and Lyla didn't have the heart to upset her with her presence.

She walked away from the main camp, pulling her furs tighter over her shoulders but still she couldn't get warm. Her breath plumed in white foggy clouds and she sighed as she realised just how much colder it was going to get. She busied herself with collecting small pieces of firewood, building a small fire away from the rest of the clan, she wanted, no needed privacy.

Revas had followed her, she could hear his soft footfalls in the small layer of snow on the ground. She loved that dog, he always seemed to sense when she needed him most, and right now she did.

The fire was completed quickly and as she lit it she started to cry.

"Revas, why won't she talk to me?" She sobbed as she held the dog close. "I can't do as she asks, I just can't."

The dog didn't answer, as she expected, just pulled closer, sitting in her small lap, engulfing her.

She cried into his fur until finally she fell asleep.

OoOoO

The days past in a blur, and Lyla kept to herself. No one approached her, the hostile anger she emitted scared all but Revas away. Neria was almost brave enough one day but a glare from her Keeper made her think twice.

Another night of Lyla walking away from them all, and the rest pretending everything was normal was too much for the elf. Neria had to do something, anything really.

They sat around the fire, even Morrigan joining the warmth for once, telling stories and ignoring their sad leader. It disgusted Neria really.

Wynne was telling another of her sanctimonious tales, making shapes in the fire to play the characters and any other night Neria would have been entranced.

"Is this it then?" Neria growled, staring at Leliana as she spoke up.

"Don't talk about what you don't understand, Neria," Leliana warned her but Neria was never good at heeding them.

"What is there to misunderstand?" Neria stood as she raised her voice. Lyla needed to hear someone defend her, and as her first she should have done so much sooner. "You need to speak to Lyla, Leliana. I can't just stand by and ignore how we are all treating her! She is our leader, our saviour, she rescued me from the tower and has saved us all countless times and this is how we reward her? You should all be ashamed of yourselves. You most of all, Leliana!"

Leliana stood to shout back, tears in her eyes but it was a voice from beyond the camp that silenced them.

"ENOUGH!" Lyla roared as she entered the camp. "Do not speak to her like that," she pointed at Neria.

"I didn't ask you to defend my honour, warden," Leliana spat at their leader.

Lyla flinched as Leliana spoke, shrinking back from the venom that erupted from the bard's mouth.

"You never had to," Lyla whispered back.

Alistair jumped to his feet, unsheathing his sword and staring into Lyla's eye. The wardens stared at each other for an imperceptible moment before Lyla paled. "Darkspawn!" Alistair growled.

"Get in a circle," Lyla ordered. "Wynne and Neria on opposite sides. I need the Mages to protect the ranged fighters. Morrigan, you're with Alistair, Shale, and me. Zevran, use a bow, lethallin, I am not having you get tainted."

Leliana pulled her daggers out and looked as though she was about to speak but Lyla cut her off with a slash of her hand in the air. "Don't argue with me now, Leliana, please. I can't worry about you and concentrate on fighting. I fear I've already lost you, but I won't let you die. You may hate me, but you're still the love of my life. Get your bow and stay at range."

Neria could see tears forming in both of their eyes, but Leliana backed down, grabbing a bow. "Stay safe, Lyla, don't you dare get hurt again," the bard asked after her, but Lyla didn't respond.

Neria watched as the warriors stood ready, standing facing the small woods to their south. Alistair and Lyla were talking and pointing towards them, no doubt that was where the spawn hid.

She hated fighting darkspawn. They stunk. A putrid, horrific smell that permeated everything. It enveloped the camp like a fog. She had secretly hoped the darkspawn hated the cold as much as she did. But alas, there was no luck to be had there. Hopes and wishes didn't defeat the blight, only the Grey Wardens did and Neria was delighted to be helping them. Lyla had given her more chances than she deserved and she would earn every single one of them.

Without that demon in her head, she didn't feel as strong but that did not mean she was helpless. Far from it.

She spoke some ancient words, the ancient spell-words from Tevinter, and waved her hand. The clan's weapons, arrows and shield ignited in blue flames. Neria's magic had improved greatly since she left the tower, and this fire would not even hurt her friends. She'd never hurt them again.

An inhuman screech echoed from the woods and the horror of war began.

Gone where the silly worries of whether Lyla would join them for the evening, instead she didn't even know if they would see the evening.

The first legion of monsters charged from the forest, shrieking loud enough to turn Neria's legs to jelly. An arrow flew past her shoulder, igniting in the blue flames and Leliana's roar followed it as it pierced the first monster's eye, killing it painfully.

Lyla roared ahead, "Ar tu na'din!" An elven curse that they had all begun familiar with. The rest of the clan added their voices to the cry, adding their hopes and dreams to the sound.

Creators, she hoped the survived this. Maker, she hoped none of them died.

The time for prayer was over as quick as it had begun, and the first wave engulfed the warriors, with stragglers charging towards them. Morrigan's spider form trapped many but many escaped towards Neria.

She would show them her power. Show them it was not due to the fucking demon in her head. She was strong!

She span and twirled her staff, perhaps more dramatically than she needed to, and finished it with a flourished stab into the ground. Vines erupted through the snow, grabbing the nearest dozen monsters and pulling them into the dirt. They would suffocate slowly and painfully, a death that only a monster deserved.

Ghouls and taller darkspawn erupted from the forest but Neria paid them no mind. A horrific shriek filled her ears and she instinctively dropped to the floor. A monster appeared from the shadows behind her, seemingly coming from thin air. It looked thinner than any other darkspawn she had ever seen, more lithe than broad. It was faintly familiar and it disgusted Neria that she even had that thought. It roared and spittle fell onto Neria's face. Its breath stunk worse than rotting flesh, and she had to resist the urge to puke as she wiped her face.

It died like the others as an arrow exploded through its head. Zevran, Natalie, or Leliana, it didn't matter really. They were one, a clan not a group, and together they were stronger than anything.

Neria darted and dived as she weaved her spells, the movement helped her concentrate her mana, she was becoming more dramatic with her twirls now that Enamour was gone, some desperate attempt to show her power perhaps? But she couldn't afford to pay it any mind.

She concentrated her mind on the forest before them. She was Dalish. The Creators gave them trees for a reason, no? She would use them to defeat the plague before her.

She pulled upon her strongest tie to the fade, pulling the power from that otherworldly place and firing it with all her might towards the woods.

The trees shook with power, crushing all the darkspawn within. She could hear their screams in her mind and she delighted in it. She was stronger than any of them had ever imagined. Enamour had done nothing but hold her back.

She was ripped from her self-confidence as Lyla screamed in horror.

"TAMLEN!"