sunburn and fever dreams

Takes place in Ferelden on the Amaranthine Coast.
People fleeing Arlathan + his own clanmates coming through.

Things were, in fact, terrible. No matter which way he looked at it. His clan was homeless until the camp center was rebuilt. And it bothered him greatly that this was happening. He didn't think too much about what happened, though he did have nightmares frequently about it. Always Carasson, but not. Just the body controlled by someone else. And he never makes it to the end of the dream. It's too real, too soon. And it breaks his heart everytime he relives it.

Breaks his heart because he's not been able to face Cara. Or any of them, really. What kind of Keeper went toe-to-toe with an opponent and lost? The clan has stayed in Arlathan, and sometimes they come around. But he makes sure he's always busy. Rebuilding their camp, their home. He does it all by hand purely because it reminds him of good times; teaching children to fish, swim, whittle. He does it by hand to stall. 

Because he's not certain that he wants to stay. Part of him wants his last duty as Keeper to be giving back their home. 

Before he leaves, if he can bring himself to leave. 

Though the anxiety of leaving the clan with Cara is overwhelming. Even though he knows that spirit is gone. 

Not just a spirit.

Evanuris. 

He'd gone toe-to-toe with an Evanuris and survived. And yet, he didn't see the pride in that. Because everything was fucked up.

And now?

The sun was fucked up too.

It was hot, sweltering, but nothing he was unused to. After all, being on the ocean meant the sun reflected back at you. The first danger was sunburn, the second, sun poisoning. He'd only ever had sun poisoning once. He was steadily working under a handmade shade when the Eluvian sparked to life. Clanmates and non-clanmates came pouring through the giant portal, and he frowned. He was used to one or two people coming through, checking on him. Bringing him meals, materials. 

But this group sounded panicked. 

Had he failed the clan again, by leaving them in Arlathan?

He tried to sort the non-Dales from the Dalish, tried to pinpoint each person from his clan. But the panic was simply too much for him to work with. Once the eluvian stopped swirling colors, he moved to find the highest point in the clan center, which was just a large rock that jutted up. It'd been their meat-drying area before, but now it was nothing but a boulder. Calm down, he clapped his hands and spoke louder, attempting to force attention onto himself. 

What's happened? Why are you here? Half-built huts, makeshift tents, vines still everywhere. 

Arlathan's in trouble. The woman that called out was one of his clan, adopted into the life despite some of the staunch resistance he'd faced a few years prior. His face fell, and he searched the crowd of people for one of his people. Not a clanmate, he was searching for Inala. Carasson (as much as the thought made his anxiety spike). He was searching for his daughter. 

He didn't see them.