LATHBORA VIRAN
CHAPTER ONE
A Night Without Moon or Stars
No one should be here.
Long past day's turning, the night sky marred by cloud and the full moon obscured, a single form stood on the stone steps before the altar. Its hooded head tilted back to gaze up at the twin lupine statues adorning the sides of what might once have been a mural, a mosaic, a window, a mirror; but, was now simply an empty shell. Before her in the centre of the stone alter lay a bowl, gilded but plain. Once, it had been empty. Now, it lay full of coins, flowers, and precious gems - small gifts left unattended. There was no need: no one disturbed this place of prayer, not when it lay in the middle of a gurgut-filled, sulphur-contaminated swamp.
She shouldn't be doing this.
The hooded figure raised an arm, and drew down the hood of her cloak. Long, wide ears pointed out from under strands of roughly cut red hair. Big eyes reflected red light. Her mouth, too wide for her heart-shaped face, was set into a permanent frown. So many times she almost convinced herself not to come. If anyone found out—
Inquisitor Kani Lavellan, former First of Clan Lavellan, Leader of the Inquisition and Herald of the Shemlen Andraste, sighed deeply, and bowed her head. She felt so stupid for standing here, speaking to pieces of stone; but, she had run out of options.
"I don't know if you can hear me," she whispered. Her voice was strong despite her words, drawing on the years of command who shaped her into the woman she had become; "but you give me no choice."
Kani lifted her head. If by chance he could hear her, she would not be submissive - not to him. "I don't know if your altars hold some ancient magic which allows you to hear those who pray here; or if you have people watching. Either way, I really hope this isn't going to be a waste of time," she continued, looking around. The swamp was dark. The gurguts were sleeping, as were the ravens which congregated in the gnarled trees. Only the sounds of the water lapping against rocks and the hiss of the sulphur leaks permeated the air. She had met no one when she snuck into the Crow Fens, nor did she see anyone now. For all intents and purposes, she was alone.
She sighed again. She hoped that was true; but, she would be a fool to believe it. "In the end, it doesn't matter. We need you, Solas. We need your help."
She laughed quietly at herself. "There, I've said it. You didn't expect to hear that, did you, Dread Wolf? Well, I don't want to say it. You broke my heart, Solas, and you threaten my world; but, I haven't given up on you. There is something you need to know."
A soft coo echoed in the distance. Kani's ears twitched, searching out the sound. Immediately she spun on her feet, her cloak flaring out behind her. Was he here? Did he hear her? Was he out there in the swamp watching her, waiting to see if she was a threat or a convert?
No. There was nothing. Only blackness met her gaze.
Her heart sank in her chest. How many times has she turned around and thought he was there? How many times had she dreamt she saw him across a meadow, in the trees, leaning beside the pillar waiting to ask her to dance? How many times had she been disappointed when he vanished, or was simply a construct, or, more distressingly, was a desire demon desperate to feed on her longing as she slept? How many times had she tried to move on from him only for her heart to pull her back? She hated how bound she was to him. Her mind and heart warred inside her, and she was so weary of the struggle. She had business to conduct.
Kani sighed again, and returned her attention to the altar. "We need to talk, Solas. In person. Not in dreams, not via your agents. You and I, in a room, actually speaking to one another for a change without all the lies and deceit between us. Your network is not as secure as you wish to believe," she stated.
She turned, and looked back out into the swamp. "And for any Agent of Fen'Harel who may be listening," she started. "Deliver this to the Wolf. Tell him the Inquisitor needs him to come back."
One last time Kani turned back to the altar. Quickly, she dropped two objects into the bowl on top of a collection of simple embrium flowers: a gold clasp, the Inquisition symbol embossed on its surface, and the left half of a lover's knot.
"Ara lath suledin, ma solas Fen," she whispered. "Sathan gara arla em. Ar isala mar halani."
With that she turned on her heel, and stepped down from the altar. By the time the moon shone down upon it, the hooded figure had slipped back into the night.
None were left to see long, pale fingers lift the tokens from the bowl.
Lathbora Viran = The Path to a Place of Lost Love; a longing for a thing one can never really know.
Ara lath suledin, ma solas Fen. = My love endures, you prideful wolf. (ara =my; lath = love; suledin = endure; ma = you; solas = pride, prideful; fen = wolf.)
Sathan gara arla em. = Please come home to me. (Sathan = please; gara = to come; arla = house, home; em = me.)
Ar isala mar halani. = I need your help. (Ar = I; isala = to need; mar = your; halani = help/assistance.)