"You left us. We needed you and you left us." Cole wasn't angry. Not yet. Solas burned with the shame of abandoning a spirit who considered him a friend. He's fully aware of what the others said about Cole behind his back. He knows Cole heard it all.
"I'm sorry, Cole. This is my pain to bear. I know you want to help and to heal, but you can't," Solas exclaimed sadly.
"It's not just that," started Cole. "It's the Inquisitor, too. You left her too. You broke her. Cracked and exposed. It hurts. It hurts. But I can't let it hurt. Too many depend… too many."
Solas grimaced at Cole's words. He knows what happened to the Inquisitor after his disappearance. Not only was she dealing with her own problems because of him, but now she has to deal with people who are pointing a finger at her. Because of him. He caused enough issues in Halamshiral just by being near her. An elven apostate. She is one herself, but to be seen with one of no certain importance is suicide in the Game. And for him to leave with no word? People got suspicious.
"She cried," Said Cole plainly.
"I cannot reveal myself to her. My issues are too much for anyone to bear. They are not her problems. I would cause nothing but grief by revealing the truth to her. I almost did once."
Cole started to look angry. He had every right to be.
"How could this happen? This is my fault. There were so many signs. Solas. Corypheus. They're linked somehow. I know it. People are talking. Whispering about me. People leaving. Inquisitor's fault. Inquisitor's fault. Make them stop. Make this all stop."
Cole projected the image of the Inquisitor in her bedroom, crouched on the floor with her hands over her ears.
"Bare face. Dalish a lie. All alone. Who am I?"
"Cole, please," Solas started. But Cole continued on.
Another image of the Inquisitor sitting at a table in the tavern. She's got a hot drink in front of her and her head down. No one is sitting with her. The people around her talk. Some whisper.
"She had to have known. How could she not?"
"Never trust an apostate."
"If they were really doing their job, they would have found him by now and made him pay!"
The Inquisitor looks at the drink in her hands and slowly pushes her chair out to stand up. She looks around. Looks everyone square in the eye that had the audacity to stare, and leaves the tavern.
"Stop. Cole, stop,"
Another image. The Inquisitor in Solas's study. She's running her hand along the unfinished painting of a wolf. The rest of the paintings on the wall are as they were. The wolf will forever remain unpainted.
"Solas," She says sofly. A single tear rolls down her cheek and she walks away.
"Enough!" Solas cries. "I will not stand here and be made to feel guilty! I've felt enough of that on my own."
Cole disappeared back to his lookout spot, back to Solas. Solas breathed deeply and fished in his pack for a piece of paper. When he was done with it, he placed it in the sleeping Inquisitors hand.
"Ma Vhenan," He said, and then he walked away.
In the morning, the Inquisitor awoke with something crinkled in her palm. She opened up the paper and groggily stared at it, trying to comprehend what it said.
I'm sorry.