The Dread Wolf crawled into his lair, wounded, broken bones and arrows sticking out of his chest and shoulder. And at last, he let himself be weak.
He tossed aside the pelts and stripped away the golden armor. He shaved his head and covered it with ash. He needed none of this where he was going.
The day he'd raised his banner against the false gods, he had prepared this chamber for sleep. Even back then, he had known with certainty that his desperate war would lead him here eventually. In this prediction, at least, he had been correct. Such great planning, he thought grimly.
There had been no ceremony, no one had seen him off as a respected elder, no lover had joined by his side, no friend had hugged him goodbye. He would go to sleep as he had hunted - alone. It was the price he had to pay for this free world he had wrought. He hoped knowing that might make it easier to bear.
He lay down on a stone bench, the chill of it soothing his broken body. It seemed fitting for a simple wanderer in search of the deepest mysteries of the stone felt harsh, but sleep would come regardless. He was tired.
An eternal fire burned nearby, protected by wards and maintained by enchantment. He took the pouch of herbs which would guide him into the Fade and pinched a little to sprinkle into the flames. Then he chuckled at the absurdity and tossed the whole pouch into the fire.
The crackling of the flames turned into music, a familiar melody. What was this song again? Ah yes, the lullaby with which his mother would sing him to sleep. After a thousand years, it was still her voice that would guide him into dreams.
Even now, when on the surface above this underground chamber, everything he could call home was crumbling.
He wondered just how much would be lost. How much knowledge and beauty had turned to fire and blood.
But no matter. They remained. The people were now safe and free to rebuild a new world from the ashes, the world they deserved. Let them despise him, for who was ever loved for going against the people and morals that ruled an age?
It hurt to think that they would go on without him, but he had faith. They would manage. His duty was done.
Solas closed his eyes and whispered, "I had no choice."
Then his senses became tangled, confused. The song embraced him, its touch soft and warm like his mother's breast.
He was nobody, weak and free.
He ran to the deepest corners of the Fade, where few except for him could reach, so close to the Void that he could feel it nearby like a lightness in his chest and white noise in his ears.
This dream looked like a field in autumn, heavy with grain, stalks bending in a beautiful dance with the wind. He could be at peace here.
Behind him, someone softly wept.
Solas turned on his heels and saw a spirit in the shape of a woman. A rather pleasant shape, he noted. It was a faint spirit, almost a wisp. She sat, hugging her knees and burying her face in her arms to muffle her cry.
He touched her gently on the shoulder. "Is something the matter?"
"I don't know." She blinked at him with wide gleaming eyes. "I woke up, and I was here. I don't know where I am. I don't remember who I am. I can't even tell how long I've been sitting here. Time seems so squishy in this place!"
"Time can be fluid here." Solas nodded.
He had to be weary of her. It was strange that such a weak spirit could wander this far into the Fade. Perhaps she was a powerful demon in disguise? But a part of him was grateful for the company.
Was there much to fear anyway? There were no armies left to command, no battles left to fight, no schemes left to unfold. They did not need him anymore. Whatever happened to him now would be a trifling matter.
And offering guidance to a lost spirit would be an excellent way to start his new life.
"Do you remember anything from before you found yourself here?" he asked.
She shook her head and blew her nose in the flap of his sweater.
"Then perhaps I can help. I know a spell that would allow me to see into your past. If I may try -"
"Yes."
Her eyes brightened, expectant. She watched him curiously as he kneeled next to her and cupped her palm in his hands.
"Please relax," he said softly.
Then he closed his eyes, steadied his breathing until his mind was calm and clear as the surface of a lake, and let her spirit touch his.
Visions rushed in, so many and so powerful that they threatened to overwhelm him.
He sensed sadness, a certain heaviness of the soul that simple spirits did not possess. In her past she had endured much, but she had been driven by some noble purpose.
He saw her standing in front of a large army, men and women flocking to her banner, then falling in a great battle. Fire fell from the sky and the ground shook with magic whose might was too much for the earth to bear.
He saw through her eyes how she fell to the ground and everything became a blur. Then he felt calm, acceptance, and above all, a love that overshadowed everything, even the pain of dying and the sadness of letting go.
Her last thought had been for someone very dear to her. She had wanted to tell him something, something important, but she hadn't found that one last breath.
There were no more visions after that, and he was left in the quiet loneliness of his own mind. He felt a sense of kinship for this woman, who just like him had known the burden of many lives marching under her banner.
And yet, he was stung with jealousy. For all the women he had known, he'd never felt love for anyone the way she had. They had both fallen in battle, but unlike her, he'd left behind an incomplete life.
When he opened his eyes, he realized he'd been shaking.
"Did it work? Are you alright?"
"Yes." Solas let go of her hand. "Forgive me if I frightened you - sharing visions and emotions carries a great deal of power so deep into the Fade. But I think I might have an explanation for how you ended up here."
"So?"
Solas rose and clasped his hands behind his back, as he often did while thinking. He considered carefully just how much to say. She was entitled to all knowledge of her past, of course, but learning everything at once might corrupt a newly awakened spirit. It was best to limit himself to explaining her current predicament.
"It might seem harsh to tell you this," he began, "but I believe the truth will make you stronger. You are not a simple spirit born of an idea, but rather a soul transformed by a powerful event. When a person dies, especially under violent circumstances, strong emotions can draw a spirit to the death. That spirit will then assume the memories and personality of the dying person, thus preventing their soul from dissolving into the Void. But if the spirit is weak, unskilled, those memories cannot be accessed immediately. However, if the spirit gains in strength, they can recover the memories of the dead being, and thus continue their life in some form. I believe this is possible for you."
She nodded. It seemed she had paid more attention to his sweater flaps swaying in the wind than to his explanation, but most of it had sunk in.
"Are you saying that someone killed me?"
"I'm afraid so."
"That bastard!"
"Indeed" He smiled. She already seemed more vibrant, tears forgotten as she stared at him intently. "But as you become stronger, you will remember who you were and what has happened to you."
"Let's do it! How do I get stronger?" She sprang to her feet, then her outline trembled, as if a mirage, and she lost her balance, plopping on her buttocks. "Ow!"
"Easy!" Solas chuckled. "It will take time. I suggest you start by choosing a new name for yourself."
"Like what?"
"Close your eyes, breathe in the essence of the Fade, and focus on your true self. If there was a word for it, what would it be?"
She followed his instructions and he had to avert his eyes from her chest rising and falling, as he felt a rush of blood to his cheeks. He almost expected the answer would be "Desire".
"Wisdom," she proclaimed, to his surprise.
"Ah." He offered her a hand to help her up to her feet. "A rare name and a curious coincidence. My name is Solas if there are to be introductions." He bowed. "It seems we are kindred spirits."
Wisdom flashed a broad, cheery grin, then looked around. "Is it this empty everywhere?"
"Not at all!" Was he puffing up his chest? He shouldn't do that. How boorish! He scratched his nose to cover up another blush. "The Fade is full of wonders, and I happen to have knowledge of its deepest corners. Where would you wish to go?"
She made a little pout as she thought it over. "Up to you," she finally shrugged. "But no waterfalls, caves, or wyverns. Somehow I know I don't like those very much."
"Very well," Solas nodded, careful to cover up his disappointment. He'd just thought of exactly one such place.