Chapter One

The bustle of Hossberg was unsettling, and the constant sounds of the market district were giving Solas a headache. With the bright sun above beating its irregular autumn heat into the city, it made the smell of raw meat mix with the steel forges and that left a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that was becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

"I said ten silver for the cowl."

A merchant still held out his hand, his impatient and suspicious gaze hooked on the elf as he waited for his money.

Solas quickly snapped his attention back to his transaction and dropped the agreed amount into the man's hand.

"Thank you," he said as he turned to leave. He heard the merchant grumble something derogatory under his breath, but paid no mind. His thoughts were elsewhere, his mind fixated on the past three months as he made his way through the crowds of people.

'Best get some food in your stomach and a cold drink, my friend; before you pass out from the heat and pure exhaustion.'

Solas nodded to himself and continued down the cobblestone street, avoiding the beggars and narrowly missing a small group of children playing in the middle of the crowds. He kept a hand clasped over his satchel, his eyes following the children until they had passed him. He knew the desperation of street orphans and hungry tummies, and he wasn't about to lose what little money he still had left after his long journey north.

It had not been an easy journey for the elf. Immediately after the defeat of Corypheus, Solas had needed to escape the Inquisition as quickly as possible. He had admitted to the Inquisitor that the Breach had partially been his fault, that his orb had fallen in the hands of Corypheus in an attempt to destroy him. She had understood. Evelyn Trevelyan was more than accommodating when it came to skeletons in the closet. He would have, however, needed to be cross examined and interviewed extensively by the Inquisition if there was any hope of him continuing with his former companions. As staying with the Inquisition was not in his long term plan, he decided it best to slip away as fast as possible, so as not to waste time.

He had ventured back to the Well of Sorrows. He had met with Mythal. She understood him, and what had happened. She was thankful to him for setting things right in the world.

But the world was not right, still; even after the mark in the sky had disappeared. The People were still not free. The elves still suffered. He saw the impoverished way his people lived; the squalor they were forced to wallow in within the Elven Alienages. At the same time, the 'free' ones lived in a culture riddled with ignorance, inaccuracy, and pride. The elves were split into two factions and both sides mistrusted the other just as equally. It pained Solas to see how much farther his people had fallen; and just as before, he could not sit by idly and wait for a change. He would have to make the change himself.

Even if he did have to cross the entirety of Thedas in order to do it.

So he had travelled alone. And after three months of grueling landscapes, he made it Hossberg. For the last two nights, he had slept atop the roof of a flat topped building, close to the market district, and spent the day replenishing his supplies. The trip to the Weathered Pass would be long, and with winter on the way, sandstorms would be a concern during his travels. There were small farming villages along the Wandering Hills; but most would be bunkered down for the Sand Season and not open to travelers, so he had to pack smart.

Ahead, Solas saw the hanging sign of a carved stein. He picked up the pace slightly, bare feet throbbing in pain against the stone. As he neared the tavern, he noticed just how parched his throat really was, and how loud his stomach was rumbling. His journey had been long and difficult, indeed. Now, it was time to resupply and have a good meal before he continued.

The tavern was open, and busy. Serving girls were running about to keep flagons full and patrons happy. The music was nearly drowned out by all the voices speaking at once; and on the left side of the room, a group of heavily armored guards were drinking excessively; keeping the barkeep distracted.

'Table in the back corner…'

Solas moved past the crowded tables, trying not to bump or brush anyone. The last thing he wanted was for a fight to break out in the tavern, especially with the drunken guards mere feet away from him. However, his staff was quite visible, and anyone who seemed annoyed by his presence or actions was quickly diffused once they saw the magical weapon.

The small table was big enough for maybe four people. It was in a nice, dark corner away from the crowds. Solas dropped himself onto the wooden bench on the far side and leaned his back against the wall, sighing. Even with the noise, the crowd, and the hard wood beneath him, he could feel himself begin to relax – if only a little bit at a time. He ordered wine and dinner from the barmaid and began to take inventory of his pack. Four personal sized water skins and a large skin for his horse to drink from, in addition to plenty of dried meats, nuts, root vegetables, a small block of cheese and a few pieces of fresher meat for his first few days of travel would have to be enough.

'The Anders are a good people, my dear friend. Should you fall on desperation, they will offer aid.'

"If we are even near a settlement when aid is required," he mumbled back.

'Oh, so you doubt the knowledge and direction I have for you, then?'

"No," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "But, this is a long journey; a dangerous one. I know you are continuing to keep me in the dark, and I don't understand why? If we are to travel together-"

"Did you say something?"

Solas snapped out of his trance-like conversation and looked up. The serving girl had his wine and a plate of food in hand and was eyeing him suspiciously. He sighed again, and offered her a feeble smile.

"Sorry, just mumbling to myself."

She placed the plate and glass on the table and smiled back. "It's okay," she said, brushing a piece of fiery red hair out of her eyes, a small sheen of sweat on her forehead. "I prefer the quieter crazy ones than the loud, authoritative types." She nodded towards the table off in the opposite corner of the tavern.

Solas looked over her shoulder to where she motioned. The group of guards, he finally noticed, was getting louder. Numerous steins were strewn about the table as they laughed, argued, and challenged one another in their drunken stupors. Solas looked up at the young woman apologetically and shook his head.

"Even the smallest amount of authority can make a greedy fool out of the most strong willed of men."

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes. "And they always try to flex that 'strong will' on me."

"Oy! Barmaid! Another round for me and my boys!"

As if on cue, one of the drunken guards was waving at the redhead and nearly falling off his seat. The maid's shoulders slumped ever so slightly. She gave Solas a small 'help me' glance, but walked off to do her job.

'Now, as I was about to say; if you want to help the People, you are going to have to trust me, Fen'Harel.'

Solas frowned, refusing to answer, and turned to his meal. He felt that if he gave his 'guest' the silent treatment, there would be no need for her to continue to speak – if speaking is what you would call it. So he began to eat his food, drink his wine, and tried to quiet his mind…

'You have a very long journey ahead, Fen'Harel. You must be strong and focused. The battle is going to be long, difficult and bloody.'

Solas took a sip of wine and enjoyed the warming sensation it gave him. He had to agree with his guest. The coming months would be daunting; all of the playing pieces had to be in just the right spot. All moves made needed to be calculated ever so carefully. Now, with the help of his new companion, Solas felt he had a real opportunity to do some real good; inspire real change before his final sleep.

'Ha! So I am your companion, now? No longer a parasite that your advanced mind couldn't suppress? My, how our circumstances continue to change…'

Solas finished his meal in silence and pushed the plate aside. He wiped his mouth with the cloth provided and sat back, sipping his wine slowly and observing the crowds around him.

"Circumstances are forever changing, Mythal. Our world would be quite boring if they didn't. You offered me valuable information that I needed your spirit for. I did what I had to do. You understand that."

"Hey! Touch my ass again and you're going to be wearing this ale!"

Solas jerked his eyes over to the redhead who had brought his meal. She was over with the drunken guardsmen, who had decided that harassing her and laying hands on her was a fun new game to play. She tried to hit one on the head with the stein of ale in her hand, but they simply knocked it away from her. One guard, a brown haired rugged looking human with patchy scruff on his face, yanked on her arm and pulled her close to him.

"No one cares what we do here, girl. We are the city's guardsmen, and we can do what we want, when we want…" he trailed a hand to the collar of her shirt, fingers toying with the buttons near her chest. He put his mouth close to the girl's ear and whispered something. Even from a distance, Solas could see the disgust in her face.

"Someone needs to stop this…" Solas growled.

'Look around you. The Hossberg Guard is feared, Solas, and corrupt. Unless someone wants the same fate, or worse, they'll stay out of it.'

Solas narrowed his eyes and looked around the tavern. Indeed, no one was taking serious notice of what was happening mere feet away from them. He saw a few patrons and other serving girls glance nervously over to the guards and their victim; however, they would quickly turn away and find something else in the room to keep their attention.

Finally, Solas grinned. "Then it is fortunate we didn't plan on staying past dawn."

He gripped his staff and placed the new cowl over his head, pulling the mouth piece up over his nose, so only his eyes were exposed. He left a few pieces of coin on the table, hoisted his pack and water skins, and headed towards the table full of guards where the girl was still struggling to get away.

"Keep struggling, darling!" the brown scruff laughed. "The more you do, the better it feels for me!"

'Be careful. Even under heavy drink, trained soldiers are still deadly. And with you being outnumbered…'

"I know what I'm doing," Solas muttered.

'I do hope so.'

Solas stood a few steps away from the guard's table. His staff was gripped tight, making his knuckles turning white under his anger.

"The lady does not appreciate your advances."

The guards stopped grew quiet as they all turned to the elf. In fact, the entire tavern had fallen in a fast silence; all eyes on the masked man with the mage staff. Solas could feel the tension rise, but he brushed it aside, preparing his magical defenses.

"I'd advise you let her go." He spoke with authority. "Or we are going to have a problem."