WARNING: This is a companion piece to "And the Veil Divides," so reading it by itself will likely be lackluster and confusing.

Before reading this, please go onto youtube and look up "If Only" by Fiction Plane (you might recognize it from the movie Holes). I'm cheesy, and I get inspiration from cheesy places, but I was surprised at how well most of the song fits Solas' story.

Each chapter here will, for the most part, correlate with a few chapters in Veil Divides, for those that want to read them together. These generally won't be very long chapters, and they will likely be a bit choppy since they are only dealing with the interactions between Solas and the Inquisitor from his point of view. This is not a stand-alone piece, but rather some added fluff and insight into our favorite egg's interpretation. With that, I hope you enjoy!

Warning: Spoilers from end of DA:I and Trespasser(ish), and even from "And the Veil Divides."

Chapter 1: What Dreamers Remain

(Prologue to "Let Chaos be Undone")

Solas felt the draw of the Orb long before he'd found the source. A year was not long enough to control its energies from this distance, but at least he could track the magic. Human interference meant little to him, so he followed the power as it wend its way through the land and he learned what he could of the people that lived here now. What he wasn't expecting was for someone to actually try to use it, and more so, almost succeed. When the Breach appeared, he felt the same fear as everyone else, though perhaps more deeply because he knew what this would mean. So he rushed to the aid of those trying to close it, and struggled to remember what had been long forgotten.

When the guards dragged the girl to Haven's prison cells, he paid little mind- until he saw the spark of brilliant green in her hand. The Anchor! His anchor! What was this child doing with his magic? The chaos of everything let him blend more easily into the soldiers, and no one really questioned him when he said he knew about the Fade and needed to study the Mark. They just handed him a key to the cells and told him to speak with the Healer.

The Healer was already struggling with the wounds of the body, he had no time or knowledge to help with the drain the Mark was putting on the frail body it had embedded in. Solas went to work swiftly, knowing that his power was not enough yet to pull it from her body, so he had to stabilize it. Between the two of them, it took them two days to finally bring her back to the land of the living. The Mark's influence spread, and Solas wondered if she were to die, if the Anchor would die as well. That was a disturbing thought.

When the Healer left on the second evening, Solas volunteered to stay and watch her through the night. Too tired to object, the man simply nodded, and reminded him to get the guards if she was going to wake.

The elf took the time, now that he was alone with her, to truly examine the woman who held a part of his power. She was young, though perhaps not as young as he'd first thought. Humans were so short lived that they all seemed to be children to him, until they died of old age. Shoulder length, auburn hair framed her pale, sleeping face. Across one eye and cheek was a blue-woad twisting tattoo, like some human modified Vallaslin. When he really looked at it, he actually found himself checking her ears for a slight point or scarring- anything to indicate that she was not the human everyone assumed. Particularly since her face had almost elvhen features- like the higher cheekbone and the narrow chin. But her ears were within normal human range, and Solas was surprised to feel a tinge of disappointment. If his magic had at least been in an elf, she might have had more use to him. But then again, elves of this 'modern' era were so twisted and closed… perhaps it was better this way. Her clothes were once of fine quality, though now it appeared they had been worn long past their normal time and repaired in a dozen or more places. Her feet were wrapped, elvhen style, for harsh terrain and winter cold- yet another strange discrepancy. Even the broken staff they said she'd come through with was very similar to the one he carried. She must have been one of the apostate mages, perhaps come to the Conclave with the others?

Finding few other answers from her prone form, he perched on the other end of the sleeping mat, and settled against the wall. The Fade was just beyond the Veil, and with the Breach, it was easier than ever for him to cross over.

Haven was not a terribly interesting place to wander the Fade. There was a lot of recent history here, yes, but nothing old enough for him to be curious about. He had expected to have to really search, perhaps even employ one of the lingering spirits help, in order to find the girl, so he was completely surprised to find himself, not in the memories of Haven, but in a cabin at the foot of the mountains. There was the woman, smiling and laughing at the antics of a faceless friend. The world shifted and changed little, sometimes the walls were wood with simple windows, sometimes they were stone with painted glass; but through it all, this faceless friend made her laugh. Wisps of joy and playfulness danced around the scene, though he did not think the Dreamer could see them. And flickering uncertainly in one corner was Longing, wishing to enter this dream, but perhaps still too scared to be close to the Breach.

Mortal dreamers were often hazy and indistinct in their little bubbles of Fade. They were only touching the Veil, never truly coming through. Mages dreamed deeper, which is how they were so easily tempted by spirits, but even they could not form such clear places. He wondered if it was perhaps the Anchor guiding her, but with how comfortably she moved through this world… What a curiosity. However, there was little time to dwell on this. He needed information about how she obtained the anchor, and that meant taking over here.

He let his Will flow freely, and he concentrated on the Conclave, using his mind to try to overpower hers. The Dream wavered, rippling like a rock thrown into a pond, before changing, shifting, burning. Where there had been order and clarity, there was only warped screams and the smell of sulfur. The woman looked around, confused, panicked, but unable to take back her Dream as her own mind filled in the blanks. There was the path leading to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. A mob of nervous figures surrounded them. No, this was too early. He needed her to move forward. There was the door to the Temple, with Templars milling around. The girl visibly cringed away from them and their hidden faces hissed like demons as they passed. Still not the right time. He shoved the memory forward and they stumbled into- nothing. There was only emptiness here, and both Dreamer and observer were confused. He could see the memory he'd just left behind them, and he could see the vague forms the mind creates while sleeping ahead, but in between… There were whispers. Fear. Terror. A figure of Hope. And then nothing. The edges around this memory were ragged and little pieces- half formed thoughts and unspoken conversations- floated around them. This was not normal, not simply amnesia or forgetfulness. This memory had been ripped from her mind forcefully, by something from the Fade.

He gave up control of her Dream, and slowly it started to flicker back to what it was before, but the fear and tension had not left her mind yet, and it wavered and shifted, until a Dream started to form a Nightmare. The stench of death and fire filled the air, and the distant screams of the past started to shriek towards them. Somewhere in the Fade, close, he could hear a Demon of Terror laugh and begin its hunt. Quelling his own fear, he let his presence be known to her in the dream. She whipped around at his appearance, fire flickering into life along her hands, "Who's there?!" She shouted, her light accent accentuating her emotions. Shaking his head, he reached out and grabbed her roughly by the wrist, "There is no time. Terror stalks you now. It is time to Wake up!"

He jolted awake, a sheen of sweat covering his skin. Solas turned to look at the prisoner, surprised that she wasn't awake, but when a soft grown left her lips, he knew she would be soon. At least they were both out of the Dream. Standing quickly, he signaled the guards. "She will be awake soon. I suggest letting the Seeker know. Tell her that I will meet them at the forward camp. There is no time to waste." The guards nodded and moved past him into the cell to pull the girl out and have her ready.

Solas let his feet carry him along the well memorized path, up the winding mountain trail, towards the Breach. Nothing he had tried had worked on the tear in the Veil, nor even the smaller Rifts that had formed around it. But this girl… She already showed great control over her magic and the Fade. Perhaps she could be shown how to use the Anchor to close… Well, one step at a time. For now, he would let the Seeker deal with her. He needed to find a Rift that the girl could be used on. And then… He would watch her. She was not the thief, he knew that, but perhaps the one who stole his magic would seek her out.

AN:

Alright, these chapters, as I said, will be shorter, but I will try to post them as frequently as I post for "And the Veil Divides." Next chapter for both should be up soon!