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I should have listened to Darya—kept my head down, focused on the drop. She warned me that Karshol doesn't like questions. But I'd heard stories of Orzammar my whole life, and if not for Mother's gambling, I'd have been raised there. The rift between our people is thicker than the ground that divides Orzammar from the surface. Our kin below think the're better than us 'cause they've still got their stone sense. Darya said they'd treat me different—even the dusters look down on a cloudgazer like me.

I didn't choose to be born on the surface. I never had Stone sense to lose. I just wanted to know what it was—what it felt like. Topside, people talk like it's magic. You hear rumors of the Stone guiding her children to lyrium veins, protecting them from cave-ins, or whispering to expecting mothers about their unborn infants' futures. According to Karshol, the reality of Stone sense is much more mundane. While miners can hear the distant song of lyrium, no one has conversations with the Stone. It's more of a connection. They can sense a passageway before reaching it and can navigate the Deep Roads without getting hopelessly lost.

My disappointment must've shown. Karshol asked if I had any other questions, then broke my nose for prying.

It's been a bad trip.

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