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The way they do things in the Alienage is a mix of the old and the new. The newer generations do not know much of the Elvhen Pantheon anymore—only some phrases about the Dread Wolf and the names of Elgar'nan and Mythal remain. Still, the way they pray to Andraste and the Maker is not the same as the humans they live alongside. They do not focus on the Maker's absence, they do not try for piety when the world is cruel and unfair—they go for the simple joy of the victories past.
While the rumors of the Fifth Blight grow on the Denerim Alienage after one of the brides-to-be is taken away to join the Grey Wardens, their hahren continues leading their services. His demeanor is not the same as the Chantry sisters and brothers, though they have never been inside the Chantry as to tell. He speaks loosely, like he is with old friends telling a fun story. There is respect, there always is, but Andraste is more of a friend to them than a distant figure.
Shianni sits on the ground as she listens to him speak about what Andraste did for the slaves in the south, how the Chantry would like to focus on the humans she liberated, on the evils of Tevinter, and gloss over the People, their ancestors. How they have to believe in the possibility of liberation, and how they need to be strong during these troubled times, for if one of them comes back as a savior of Ferelden, perhaps there is a better world ahead.
Shianni puts her hands together as Soris does right next to her. When the hahren brings a book to his atrium—he is one of the few people in the Alienage who can read; Shianni is still learning—she smiles, knows the Chant is about to be recited. This is her favorite part, the chanting together, the remembering something by heart. They know more of the Chant of Light than the old traditions, but they know how to make them their own when they are not allowed in the Chantry of the city.
"You know this one," their hahren starts with a small smile. "This is our favorite part of the Canticle of Shartan, is it not?"
The more rambunctious teenagers start before he does, knowing this verse by heart—in the small misery of the Alienage, there is a fire that is stoked by the wars and victories of the past:
"No longer are we hunted! We shall never again
Be prey, waiting to be struck down!
Let us take up the blades of our enemies
And carve a place for ourselves in this world!"