Warning! This is a continuation of 'Be Strong, My Boy'. If you haven't read it, I'd advise you to do so. If not, the following summary will inform you about previous events.

Leaving Lothering had us devastated. We never would have seen the Blight coming.

At first, our dog Barry succumbed to the sickness when it was already too late for any cure. My children Allison and Eric had met a qunari prisoner they insisted to feed every day.

More refugees from the south visited our village, among them two Grey Wardens and a witch of the wilds who had healed me after our encounter with darkspawn whom we had lost my four year old daughter to. Her brother, only 14 years old, and I had to watch her suffer and bleed out at the hands of their leader. I learned then, that it was not the witch who had saved me, but my own son. He had discovered magical abilities.

Eric had the qunari Sten promise to watch over us, to keep us safe, in exchange for a wish of his own. We decided to gather our essentials and leave before it was too late, facing and ending the darkspawn in our path. Then we left the village, heading for Denerim without ever looking back.

After days of travel, we had still not arrived in Denerim.
"How long until we reach Denerim, Mother?" Eric asked as we sat by the campfire at night and Sten answered for me. "A week at most," he had said before continuing sharpening his blade.
Huffing, Eric stood up in frustration and took off into our tent, leaving me alone with Sten.

Closing my eyes, I enjoyed the warmth of the fire on my hands, the sound of crackling wood in my ears, and the smell of food still lingering in the air.
Moments like these needed to be relished, especially during a Blight with darkspawn creeping around every corner.
It had not been a week since our departure from Lothering, yet it had felt like an agonizing eternity of travel and considering I had been an adventurer for a year or so it truly was surprising.
But seeing her child suffer under such circumstances would make every mother's heart ache and weep. When I looked at Eric, I always saw the sorrow in his eyes he was trying to cover. I knew he was hiding behind a mask of courage, but underneath I could feel his pains.
Every time he sobbed, whether in my arms or in secret, every time he hit a rock in anger and frustration when he was thinking of the past, I felt it. I felt everything. And right then he was sobbing, preferring the seclusion and silence in the tent to the comfort of his mother.

He was afraid. Afraid of encountering more darkspawn, afraid of bandits and every other man and woman passing us by. But what frightened him the most was the future. So whenever I could take away his pain, envelop him in stories of my adventures and thus, make him forget about the present for a while, my heart would be at peace.

I was torn away from my thoughts as Sten suddenly spoke, "Ash-tost. What bothers you, Kadan?"
A bitter sigh escaped my mouth as I shook my head. He understood that I was in no mood to talk about my ailments, thus he continued, "You should not dwell on your sorrows, Kadan. Itwa-ost nehraa ebost astaar."
Biting my lips I nodded silently, trying to hold back my tears desperately.

Two days of travel passed by, darkspawn encounters became less. We were glad to finally meet someone who didn't want to kill us on sight.
An elderly man was standing in the middle of the road, surrounded by people tending to caravans left and right. "Another traveller!" He exclaimed, rallying his companions who had been busy sorting wares and feeding their ox.
After introducing ourselves and talking for a while we had agreed upon travelling together, since we shared the same destination.

Callum was his name and despite his almost ancient looks, he proved to be a rather athletic man.
Well, he was able to lift crates I would never have considered possible for someone who seemed as fragile as him.

His daughter, Selene, was the reason why Eric opened up and smiled more and I was grateful for her to care and befriend him.
Even though she was already of age, she behaved like a child whenever she was around Eric. But I didn't mind. She was kind at heart and that mattered.

When we set up camp at night, she approached me, her eyes glimmering with purpose.
She asked me to talk with her in private and I nodded, aware of the urgency in her plea.
Her voice was intended to be soft, but the seriousness hidden beneath her polite tone did not escape my notice.
When I allowed her to speak, she hesitated, all the eagerness leaving her face and being replaced by nervousness.
It was as if she had not thought past her request to talk and now she was fiddling with her hands, piecing together the words she was about to speak.

"Your son, Eric," she finally began, her gaze avoiding mine, "you haven't told me he's an apostate."
My eyes narrowed as I was questioning her intentions. She gasped in shock when she saw my expression, as if she had foreseen my suspicion and was afraid to look at me for that reason.
"I- I intend no harm," she stammered, "it's just…"
She trailed off, stopping mid-sentence to raise her hand and tell me through actions what she was unable to say with words.
A glow from her hand illuminated the dark, sparks forming on her palms.
"You have no reason to fear me," she assured as the sparks of lightning were dancing across her fingertips, "I could feel that Eric is a mage. So am I. But he needs to be trained."

These words triggered a memory of a similar conversation I'd had with Sten. "A saarebas needs to be trained," he had said.
Saarebas. That word was still lingering in my head. As if my son was a feral dog to be either domesticated or put down.
I knew about the Qunari culture and how they dealt with their mages and I knew for sure that my son was not a 'dangerous thing' as they loved to put it.
I remembered the look on Sten's face at my outburst, a mixture of surprise, but also disappointment. The same look that was now resting on Selene's face when I refused to let her train him.
"He knows about his powers," was all I said, "he is not one to abuse them and he certainly does not pose any danger."
We settled on lessons about the Fade and how to resist demonic temptations, ultimately agreeing to leaving the choice of further lessons to Eric.

Ash-tost. - "You are thinking."
Itwa-ost nehraa ebost astaar. - "You have fallen to rise again."