[OPEN] vir sulahn'nehn, vir dirthera

[eolasemah]

WHO: Everyone, the Dalish in particular
WHAT: A shrine.
WHEN: Backdated, Wintermarch sometime, before the Skyhold rift.
WHERE: The back corner of the garden.
NOTES: Not so much a log as a thing that is now available. Feel free to comment with IC reactions and interactions.

In the back corner of the garden, near a sprawling growth of arbor blessing, a willow sapling has been planted. Propped against it, to help it grow straight, are a rudely-carved staff of oak and an unworked branch of cedar.

Three large flat stones have been placed flat on the grass in a circle around the little trunk. Etched into each is a name:
Ashara, Dahlasanor, Sabrae

On Dahlasanor's stone are written several names of the fallen.

Behind the sapling and etched into the stone wall of the garden, in a space cleared of vines:

in Uthenera ne revas

Comments

[samahl]

Cyril doesn't believe in the gods. It's an opinion he has kept mostly to himself. He'll express it if pushed but otherwise he sees no harm in allowing people to believe in things that can't be proven. If anything, he feels a bit of envy towards those who experience faith so easily.

He still feels comforted by the appearance of the tree. Despite his own lack of faith, shrines and traditions have always given him a sense of community. Even with so many faces proudly wearing their vallaslin within Skyhold's walls, the Inquisition was still largely human and therefore largely alien.

Most of the time when he's around the shine, he's with Pel. Sometimes he comes alone though. It's a nice place to sit and think.

[wickedchase]

Twisted Fate's relationship with the Creators and all things Dalish is a bit complicated.

As his clan's former First, he'd been taught many tales about the Creators, been enforced in that belief. Sometimes it's about all a man has, even if he wishes to forget about it. Without that faith on occasion, he isn't entirely sure he'd have marched forward in life as he had.

Despite everything, he still quietly considers himself Dalish, never quite forgetting what he is, and what is wished. Fate looks at the clan names with a scowl.

Whoever set this up would not know, could not know, but still there's a bitter taste in his mouth. He's prepared himself as an outsider, and that's how it'll be. He knows that.

But more than he'd admit, there's the sting.

Nothing to be done about it.

"Such is the way of it," he murmurs to himself as he ponders by the shrine.

[chainlightning]

closed to sina, continued from here;
The sight, when Merrill comes upon it with note in hand, is enough to make her gasp. Soon after, as she's kneeling down before the stone with Sabrae etched into it, it's enough to make her cry. Her tears are mostly silent, but they nevertheless fall onto the stone as she traces the letters with her fingers.

"Ir abelas," she whispers, and she hopes that wherever they are, they know she means it. Then she straightens and picks up the note once more, looking around to see if the elf who gave it to her happens to still be there.

open;
Dahlasanor has the names of its falling on its stone. Sabrae does not, but Merrill knows each and every one from her lifetime. It will be slow work, and there will be a lot of names, but she's determined to do it. When she is available to do so, she is in the garden, adding names.

The first she writes is Tamlen. The second, Marethari. And she wonders, idly, if she should write in her own name; she is not dead, but she is gone. Can you be the last of a clan if the clan no longer claimed you?

[eolasemah]

Sina hadn't left the note with the intention of meeting Merrill there-- she just wanted her to see that her grief is being acknowledged. Their earlier conversation made Sina realize that each clan at Skyhold has had its losses, all of which deserve to be commemorated.

She sees Merrill kneeling by Sabrae's stone, and leaves her in peace for a while, giving her space while she finishes weeding. Then, after about half an hour, Sina rises, removes her gardening gloves, and goes to kneel next to the older First. She rests a pale hand on Dahlasanor's stone.

"Most of my clan were killed before I was born," she quietly explains, "including the Keeper. Keeper Thalia was younger than I am now when she took up the mantle." Her hand rests over the name 'Keeper Dhavihal'. "...I love her, and she is the Keeper. But sometimes I wish I could have met him." A small, uncertain smile reaches her lips as she shyly raises her gaze to Merrill. "The clan was so happy I chose Ghilan'nain, because he wore her vallaslin as well."

[chainlightning]

They are the remnants of the People and they are divided, lost, hunted and dying. They are trying to cling to their culture but many are afraid to take risky steps, while others find themselves unable to function in the world as it is because of it. Something has to change for them, because stories like this are all too common -- because they could fill this area with stones, with clan names and the names of the lost.

This time, it is Merrill who reaches out to take one of Sina's hands in hers, lightly squeezing as she lets her thumb stroke the back of her hand.

"It isn't wrong to want to have been able to meet those who came before us." Even if it was a relatively short time ago, compared to their vast history. "Can I ask what happened to them?"

[eolasemah]

Sina smiles and squeezes Merrill's hand back, her eyes cast down but her voice level. "Clan Dahlasanor walked the plains and prairies of the Free Marches," she quietly explains, "until they were driven away, by the shem'len farmers and townspeople. Most of us were slaughtered, including the Keeper. They... they knew to kill him." Her brow knits unhappily. "My mother was pregnant with me, and nearly lost me from her grief. But after they fled to the Planasene Forest, I was the first child born in our new home. And the only one, for quite a long time."
She lifts her gaze timidly to Merrill's. "It was a blessing when I came into my magic, because it meant the clan could move forward. They say I am a vessel for the souls of our fallen family, and... every day I am struck with the unfairness that I couldn't know them." She purses her lips and looks down again. "They were taken from us."

[chainlightning]

She is quiet as she listens, holding Sina's hand in hers. It is easy to feel anger and grief, but they don't help as much. She is tired of hurting, and she's fairly certain that Sina is, too. And so Merrill murmurs, quiet: "We are the Dalish: keepers of the lost lore, walkers of the lonely path. We are the last of the Elvhenan, and never again shall we submit."

Then she makes sure her gaze meets that of the other elf and clears her throat. "There is so much fear and hate toward our people. If we can do well here, prove that we are just as worthy of respect as any human -- ones without magic, even -- then perhaps some minds will be changed. There is so much hurt in the world, and everyone seems to keep doing their best to continue it." Merrill swallows, gaze flickering back toward the stones before returning to Sina.

"Do you think- we can help? Recover our lost lore and show that we are just as worthy of respect, as both elves and mages? It may be under the Inquistion's banner, but- we have not had many other choices, before. No one else who would listen."

[eolasemah]

"Never again," Sina repeats, meeting Merrill's eyes with a serious expression. She nods in quiet agreement.
"We can try," she says quietly, to Merrill's question, "...we've... been trying. And we will continue. Pel has been leading research on everything from old runes to artifacts, and we intend to continue as long as we have the Inquisition's resources at our disposal."

[chainlightning]

"We should make ourselves seen, too. Talk to others, help them. Some will still be... well, horrible. But we're used to that, and we will have help if they try to attack us."

Her free hand reaches back toward her staff, pats it once. If anyone messes with Sina, they'll very much have to look out for someone who can boil their blood from the inside.

"And- the Rifters, I think they feel just as lost as we do, sometimes."

[eolasemah]

"...make ourselves seen? How do you mean?" Sina asks, immediately looking a bit nervous. Make a fuss, draw human ire onto themselves? She isn't sure.

"I think they do," she agrees sympathetically. "Perhaps moreso, since we at least have one another and many of them are alone in a strange place."

[chainlightning]

"Make sure people know that the Dalish are here, helping. That our people want to stop Corypheus and save the world, too -- that we are all here to fight for this world." And preferably do it without the human ire part, yes.

She nods, idly stroking the back of Sina's hand with her thumb some more. "And even with each other, they may not be from the same place, have the same culture. We should help them, if we can."

[eolasemah]

"..yes," Sina agrees, after a pause. She hadn't thought of it that way-- she knows Ashara are here, and that she and Nari have their own purpose, but hasn't considered it in the grander scheme of including all the Dalish.

"We should," she says with a nod, "especially since... in some ways, we have a lot in common." She nervously touches the shard on her chest.

[chainlightning]

Merrill believes in their people, in their cause. She had told Aveline once "simple, not stupid" and it still applies. Simplicity in being seen, in showing their hands open in gestures of friendship and alliance with those who would stop this threat to their world, and knowing that doing so is the intelligent option. Perhaps it would surprise some, but maybe that makes it all the more important.

"Yes," she agrees, frowning softly as Sina touches the shard in her chest. She can only imagine how it must feel, how strange it must be. She also imagines that the glow must make it difficult to sleep, but she ignores that thought, for the moment. "I think we may be able to learn a lot from each other."