Chương 41: Pueritia Momento
"Leilaniiiiii! Let go of my hair!"
Thornton looked up from the carved vessel of sweet cider he'd been given to see two young Dalish girls fighting in the loam a short distance away. One had chestnut brown hair, tied back into a tail, the other long pale strands blonde of hair that was currently getting pulled at by the other.
"No, Eilhanam not 'til you give my ajuem'asha back!"
"It wasn't me, sulevem Rasdheas!"
Their voices were in stark contrast to the relative quiet of the camp, but the dark-skinned ranger knew there were more children around, just that they had headed off into the surrounding forest shortly after he had arrived. He did not bother to try and hide the amused grin as one of the girls' mother appeared, clear voice reprimanding and causing the two younglings to squee - scampering off over some barrels and behind one of the aravels. The elvish woman just huffed loudly and returned to her spindle, joining back in the hushed conversation that seemed to be the main output of the small group that had gathered to spin material.
"An'daran Atish'an, Ghi'myelan."
He turned to see who had addressed him. Keeper Dashenna had sat down on a small collapsible stool in front of him with a vessel not unlike his own gripped in her hand. She was dressed in the traditional Keeper's garb, consisting of fine ironwood mail and thick green-stained leather ornamented with soft fur pauldrons. Her vallas'lin aged her otherwise youthful features slightly. He nodded curtly, "To you as well, Keeper."
"What, may I ask, brings the Margrave's Eyes to Clan Lavellan?"
"You've heard of the rumors of a Blight to the south?"
"Indeed, who but the most isolated has not?"
"The Margrave wishes to send troops to support the Wardens, but as word has reached him that there have been whispers of unrest here in the east, by the Minanter Delta. He wishes to ensure that his realm is cared for before weakening himself."
The Keeper looked thoughtful for a moment before responding, "A wise man then, on both accounts. For planning to send aid and for making sure his own herd is cared for."
Thornton's response was a slow nod of his head.
"I presume you are then here to ask whether we know anything of these happenings around the Delta?"
The ranger nodded again.
"We have not yet seen anything ourselves, having only recently moved into the area. But our hunters tell that the animals are skittish, in a manner that can only be explained by extensive hunting in the area. As there are no nearby villages…"
"You believe there may be people here, those of the type that it may stir up rumours of unrest."
This time it was Dashenna's turn to nod.
Thornton's gaze turned thoughtful as he stared into the fire that was heating a pot nearby. He looked at the drink in his hand and downed it, carefully placing the vessel down onto the makeshift bench on which he was sitting, before standing up.
"I will head out then, to clarify what this presence may be. I shall return with news whether it be an ill one or not as soon as I am able."
"Ma'serranas, Ghi'myelan, I shall await your return. Please see the Crafter for supplies before you head out."
Thornton was about to voice his thanks when he heard a high-pitched shout, anticipating the worst he reached to retrieve his bow still lying against the bench, while his eyes scanned the area from which the shouting came.
It was a child's that had called out, but it had an undercurrent of fear lending it an edge. He had heard that sound far too often to not have it send chills down his spine. But before he could even straighten up, weapon gripped tightly in hand, a figure came bounding through the foliage on the far side of the camp.
It was one of the hunters, with both of the girls from earlier wrapped in each of his arms, both of whom were sobbing and holding onto the man with what seemed to be all their strength. The elf only stopped once he reached the Keeper, in whose hands a staff had appeared as if from thin air.
The man gently lowered the girls to the ground before leaning down on his knees, panting heavily. The girls though, merely clung to the man's legs now, instead of his leather cuirass. The woman who had tried to scold them earlier, got up from her place, and dropping her spindle to the ground moved to embrace the weeping youngsters, murmuring to them softly in mixed Elvhen and King's Speak.
Dashenna put a tentative hand on the hunter's shoulder, "Eolas, what happened?"
The man breathed in deeply and looked up at the Keeper, still leaning on his knees. Thornton noted that he no longer had his bow and a goodly few arrows were missing from his quiver.
"Shem'len...in a cave by the river...they were worshipping a giant haselan, filthy leanatha'len." The man took a few more steadying breaths. and was about to continue when the girl with the white-blonde hair pushed past him, eyes still red from tears.
"K-keeper…" the girl began hesitantly, Dashenna looked to Eolas, who indicated that she listen to the girl first; the Dalish leader crouched down so that she was face-to-face with what had to be one her younger charges.
"Tell me what happened, da'len." She soothed, gently cupping on cheek while slowly brushing the pale hair with the other.
"T-there were these men, l-like Ghi'myelan. Me an' Leilani thought that m-maybe they could also be elni." The girl shuddered, before sniffing several times and continuing, "they tried t-to grab Lani, though, s-so I screamed and hit the one who tried to do it." The girl's eyes grew wide then, before she continued, "when I hit him there was thunder , Keeper! Blue light was everywhere and then the one I hit just fell over." She seemed to shrink in on herself then, "The others ran away after Leilani's Bae shot at them."
~
Thronton looked on with curiosity as a Dalish tribe accepted a mage into their midst. He had seen several poor sods carted off to the Circles by the Templars, but he had to admit that he preferred this. Despite the shock and emotions that had run wild at the danger posed to the children's lives, the way the blond-haired one had been treated upon the discovery of her ability was more akin to a celebration of coming-of-age, than the normal clapped-in-irons-and-escorted-away he was used to.
But from what the hunter had said, there was a spider-worshipping cult in these woods. As the Margrave's Ranger, he had work to do.
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