Fen'Tarasyl

Chapter Eight

The journey wasn't difficult for Talyn. In fact, she found it thrilling. As they traveled down the mountain and into the gentle slopes of the Hinterlands, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the scenery. It fascinated her, how the blistering wind and the frosted ground could turn into green grass and blooming flowers so quickly. She would often get too far ahead of the group and get lost. Cassandra complained under her breath about having to "baby-sit" a fully grown woman quite often.

Whenever she did this, Talyn and Solas shared their own secret, amused grins.

"Talyn, stay with us!" Cassandra snapped as Talyn galloped ahead of them, right into the thick forest that lined either side of the road the were on.

Solas was never far behind her. And he was far more patient than Cassandra was with Talyn. He would show her small wonders that she never would have been able to find on her own. Like a waterfall hidden deep in the forest, in a small clearing with only one entrance, hidden by a thick blanket of ivy with white blooming flowers tangled in the leaves. Or a herd of halla grazing peacefully in a meadow bathed in sunlight, where their fawns frolicked and crushed the wildflowers beneath their hooves.

Without Solas shadowing her, she would never have been able to find the group back on the road. Especially when she would disappear for hours at a time, just marveling at the wonders of the world she didn't recognize.

Varric was very upset with Cassandra, because the Seeker made him ride a pony. The creature was about as bitter as her rider, because she was always constantly trying to brush the dwarf off her. Varric had scratches and leaves stuck in his hair from all of the failed attempts. He begged Cassandra for him to just walk, that it was unnatural for a dwarf to ride a pony. Cassandra had yet to give in, and they were always bickering about it. Listening to them argue amused Talyn more than anything else.

They arrived at one of the Inquisition's scout camps. The flaming eye with the sword in the middle was on everything. The tents, the flag, and the leather armor all the scouts that passed the group wore. One look at Talyn's face, at the swirling blue tattoos that shouted to the world how different she was, and they all knew that the Herald of Andraste had arrived. Talyn didn't think she'd ever get over the gawking and the whispers.

They dismounted and took care of their horses. Varric immediately handed his pony over to a scout and walked away, probably on the hunt for beer. But Solas and Talyn followed Cassandra through the camp on the hunt for a woman named Harding. She was the one who had the information Cassandra needed.

Harding was sitting on the edge of a cliff that overlooked the refugee camp. She was a dwarf, with red hair and gentle blue eyes. Upon seeing the three of them approaching, she stood to her feet and bowed.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Herald." She greeted Talyn first.

Talyn tensed for a moment.

"Um... hello." She replied awkwardly.

Cassandra interrupted. "Harding, what is the report on the Templars and mages?"

Harding's face grew solemn. "The war is bad, Seeker. Half of the Hinterlands is on fire. The Templars aren't just attacking the apostates anymore, it's anyone who they think might be supporting them. And the mages aren't much better. They aren't even a part of the rebellion anymore, they're just using the chaos as an excuse to do whatever they please. Many of them are using blood magic, and they don't care who gets in their way. Most of the people left in the Hinterlands are in the refugee camp."

"And Dennet?"

"Haven't seen him. He's been holed up in his farm, which hasn't been touched by the war yet, thank the Maker. You're going to have to see him personally about supplying horses for the Inquisition, he won't respond to any of the ravens we've sent him."