Once it seemed like the wounds on his arms weren’t going to heal quickly, he knew he needed to find a way back to Ferelden. Merrill had been kind enough to welcome him back to the city but he wasn’t alright. He had to get word back home. At first she wanted to send Gefen a letter but the thought of Gefen returning to Kirkwall for even a moment. So he wrote to Lana instead, finding a raven and sending it back to Soldier’s Peak.
When Merrill had found him he resisted joining her for a meal. He hadn’t wanted to go to Hightown. He hadn’t wanted to be anywhere close to where the Chantry had once stood but once he’d made the trek up to the higher elevation, once he was up there he’d determined he had to face it. So, in the dead of night he pulled his cloak and hood back over his shoulders, making sure he was as unrecognizable as possible and slipped into the streets. His entire body trembled as he stepped into the square, his body almost seizing up entirely when he saw the memorial.
Maker, there were so many names.
He stepped forward, drawn to it, his hand outstretched. Grand Cleric Elthina was at the very top of the middle slab of stone in lettering a bit larger than the other names. It angered him that she was in such a place of prominence but he didn’t have it in him to feel that rage fully. Right now all that rushed through him, laced with the ever present hunger that now gnawed at his soul, was guilt and regret and grief. Looking the spirit in the face who was partially to blame for this, meeting him in his arrogance and cruelty all at once. Knowing he’d been used in a way that had caused harm to so many.
He heard the heavy beat of large wings as they landed behind him and felt a brief moment of relief. He knew it was Fred behind him before her large head pressed up against his cheek, nuzzling him, ”Hey Girl, I missed you too.”
He stood there for a moment longer and turned back to look at Lana, the weight of his own sins weighing his shoulders down.
When Merrill had found him he resisted joining her for a meal. He hadn’t wanted to go to Hightown. He hadn’t wanted to be anywhere close to where the Chantry had once stood but once he’d made the trek up to the higher elevation, once he was up there he’d determined he had to face it. So, in the dead of night he pulled his cloak and hood back over his shoulders, making sure he was as unrecognizable as possible and slipped into the streets. His entire body trembled as he stepped into the square, his body almost seizing up entirely when he saw the memorial.
Maker, there were so many names.
He stepped forward, drawn to it, his hand outstretched. Grand Cleric Elthina was at the very top of the middle slab of stone in lettering a bit larger than the other names. It angered him that she was in such a place of prominence but he didn’t have it in him to feel that rage fully. Right now all that rushed through him, laced with the ever present hunger that now gnawed at his soul, was guilt and regret and grief. Looking the spirit in the face who was partially to blame for this, meeting him in his arrogance and cruelty all at once. Knowing he’d been used in a way that had caused harm to so many.
He heard the heavy beat of large wings as they landed behind him and felt a brief moment of relief. He knew it was Fred behind him before her large head pressed up against his cheek, nuzzling him, ”Hey Girl, I missed you too.”
He stood there for a moment longer and turned back to look at Lana, the weight of his own sins weighing his shoulders down.
05-08-2023, 02:00 PM
