The creak of flexing metal and the light grind of wooden wheels on hard packed earth was it's own sort of music. A lullaby of travel, tempo set at the rounded footfalls of a steady horse and melody line provided by the wind in the nearby trees.

For the first time since she'd joined the Inquisition, Lavellan felt like she was at home.

For that alone, she would have been thankful to the stranger that had fought at their side the night before. After all, it was for his sake that they were returning to Skyhold at the pace of a wagon and not at their usual gallop. The man, for apparently that was what he was despite his odd form, hadn't regained consciousness yet, though Solas was at least fairly confident that he eventually would.

"Ready to finish this? Ben-Hassrath to A6," Iron Bull had tugged his horse back to where Solas was pacing the wagon.

"Knight takes Pawn at G7. Check," Solas returned smoothly. The Inquisitor was glad to see that the two had worked out their earlier differences. She liked Iron Bull and hearing Solas pick apart the pieces of him, of the Qun, that were difficult to accept, left her uneasy. To her immense relief, Bull's leaving the Qun had shifted that dynamic. The mage did not gloat, did not for a moment give any sense that he undervalued the difficulty of Bull's situation. But he did very quietly do his best to provide support and, as evident by this ongoing game between them, distraction.

"Uh-huh. King to D8."

She glanced sideways at her fellow elven mage. Solas' knowledge about the Fade and the Veil was unparalleled. Certainly no circle mage, keeper or cleric seemed to know half of what the man did. For all that, this situation with this person, this mortal spirit, seemed to be something he'd never encountered before. She had a sneaking suspicion that the novelty of that, the uniqueness of it, was part of the reason he'd jumped in so quickly to try and save the man.

It hadn't been the only reason, of course. If Cole's pleas hadn't been enough, the look on that man's face as he was twisted into something demonic would have likely done it for any of them. The mere memory of it sobered her immediately. Solas hadn't even had to ask her for her help. The moment he told her what to do, how to pull from the Fade and funnel the energy out, she'd done it without question. Her raw power, his skill in molding it, tying it to the man in a brightly lit whirl wind of green and white...

Lavellan's lips curved upward slightly and she looked back at the road.

They made a good team.

"Queen to F6, Check."

"And now my Ben-Hassrath takes your Queen." Iron Bull said smugly, "You've got no towers. You're down to a single Mage. Too bad you wasted your time moving that Pawn to… to… You sneaky son of a bitch."

Lavellan laughed softly, turning back to the path ahead of them. While it was unlikely they'd be attacked, it never hurt to keep an eye out. Four people with a wagon on this road shouldn't be too tempting a target, not this close to Skyhold. The air was already notably chill, a fact which had led her to donate both cloak and blanket to the still figure being rocked by the uneven road.

"Mage to F7. Checkmate." Solas gave the death blow with his usual grace.

"Nice game, mage."

"And you as well, Tal-Vashoth."

"Is there a way to save more spirits, Solas?" Cole broke the comfortable silence without warning. He'd been flanking the wagon on the opposite side of Solas, content to remain quiet as he listened. That was something that she hadn't thought of. If the anchor had served to tie this man's spirit to the world, preventing him from becoming a demon, then perhaps it could be used to help other spirits. Perhaps it could have been used to save Solas' friend, Wisdom. The Inquisitor pressed her lips together at that, still not sure how she'd felt about that situation.

"Not until the Veil is healed," Solas answered, "The rifts draw spirits through, and the shock makes demons of them."

"Pushing through makes you be yourself," Cole replied, nodding, "You can hold onto the you. Being pulled through means you don't have enough you. You become what batters you, bruises your being."

"Is that why he is like Cole?" Lavellan asked, pointing out the logical connection. "He pushed himself through?"

"In a way, yes," Solas agreed. He warmed to the topic, "Deliberately crossing the Veil requires that a spirit form will, personality. That concept of self gives a spirit the chance to maintain its nature. From what Cole says, this man is a spirit, but one that once had a body. A form. His sense of self is innate to him, unlike most spirits. It allowed him to cross. But to be corporal, to sustain himself, required more power than his mortal spirit alone could provide."

"Blue and green light, twisting like a school shoaling, fish in a swarm." Cole's tone was distant, admiring and awed. Then it became concrete once more, "Solas and the Inquisitor fixed it. You don't need to worry. It won't happen again."

She should have been used to it by now. That delay between hearing something Cole said, and then understanding what it meant.

This time it only took her a moment to realize what was implied by the "you" in that reassurance. She turned to look back at the wagon and found the man awake and propped up on one of his elbows. He was focused on Cole, though given their positions, Bull was well within his line of sight as well.

"I see you are awake," Solas had turned as well, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," the man said, inclining his head slightly in greeting. The reverberation that had so plucked at her nerves the night before seemed much milder in the light of day. "My name is Thane Krios. I don't know if Cole had an opportunity to share that."

"Cole's not so big on the straight answers," Iron Bull drawled. He was doing that thing again where his expression was friendly and pleasant, while his biceps oh-so-accidentally bulged.

"You asked what he is," Cole protested, "But I don't know what he is now. I only know what he was, with them and with her."

"I'm Ellana Lavellan," the Inquisitor provided, subtly steering the conversation away from a debate on Cole's lack of clarity. "That's Solas and Iron Bull. We're glad you are alright. We weren't entirely certain how to treat your injuries."

Thane's brow furrowed and his head cocked to the side. Apparently he expressed confusion the same way that they did. That was good.

"She means getting struck by lightning," Iron Bull provided with a smirk. "It's hell on your heart if you don't have a mage around to settle you down after."

Lavellan blushed and cleared her throat. "Yes, well…we'd never seen anyone who looks like you, and there were demons all around..." she trailed off guiltily.

"In the darkness, in the middle of battle, its not uncommon to mistake friend for foe. And, just as I am alien to you I must confess that, you are somewhat alien to me as well," the man was polite, and he moved cautiously as he sat the rest of the way up. His gaze settled once more on Iron Bull, a clear indication of what he meant.

"The Inquisitor and I are elves," Solas enlightened the man, "While the Iron Bull is a qunari. We are all rather typical of our races."

The man casually extended an arm, evaluative gaze now going to his own limb and the motion of it. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Bull shift his weight slightly. "And I'm a drell, typical of mine." He lowered his arm and looked keenly at Solas. "I was dying. Cole tells me that in that state, I began to dream. The creatures that attacked your camp were there and Cole kindly prevented them from causing me harm. When he disappeared, alarmed, and they appeared to follow, I thought to repay that kindness."

It was funny. While his tone had remained courteous, it gained an edge of demand to it. He was providing them information and he expected them to provide the same in return. She had no issues with doing so, but she did need just a little more context.

"Where are you from?" the Inquisitor asked, nodding her agreement to that unspoken request.

"A planet called Kahje," he said.

"Never heard of it," Bull returned dismissively. The name, the term, meant nothing to her as well.

Solas looked thoughtful again, though there was something sharp about his gaze. "The Fade is a place without distance or time. I'm unsurprised that we would not necessarily be familiar with your home. Though, it is curious. Normally there are correspondences, ephemeral as they might be, between places in our world and those in the Fade."

Cole shifted uneasily on his horse. "It was far," he said, "but not as far as some."

Lavellan had the feeling that Thane had somewhat expected this reaction. He certainly didn't look surprised at it, "I take it there is no going back?" he asked finally, evenly.

"I'm afraid not," Solas said.

It could not have been an easy thing to hear. Thane said nothing for a time, and the motion of the wagon gently rocked him back and forth in that stillness.

Lavellan found herself sympathizing. She'd been pulled from her home, cast into a world unlike her own, and given a place in events that still carried them all along like leaves on a raging river. But, she at least, knew she'd be able to go home again, could go home again, if she wished it.

This man had nothing of his people or his place now.

"Then," Thane spoke, expression blankly neutral, but shoulders subtly squared. "I have quite a few more questions for you, as I imagine you still do for me."

There were benefits to having a Ben Hassreth, a spirit of Compassion, and a keen eyed mage in her party. Lavellan had no doubts that by the time they got to Skyhold she'd know everything she needed to know about this man.

Including what to do with him.