Dragon Age: Final Hour
Chapter 20: Tip of War
Several days had passed since leaving the village and the ambush behind them. The harts were moving at a walk now more because Solas's skill in the saddle was sourly lacking. If the hart had been barebacked it would have been easier for him but then he couldn't have had the bags on the back of the saddle which would have held them back even more considering most of the bags held supplies.
"At this rate we won't be at the capitol of another year," Nysa grumbled in a quiet voice to Felassan.
"You were the one who wanted him to learn to ride," Etha hissed back.
Solas did his best to ignore both women. In the end Nysa was right in the fact that Solas's lack of skill was going to hold them back. But Etha was also right. Solas kept his back straight and gaze fixed dead ahead. Besides they would be nearing a town soon. There was a chance that the others would stand out because they were sentinels or former slaves. Out of everyone there only he and Nysa would have a chance to go by unnoticed in the town.
That in and of itself held a risk to it. He wasn't certain if she was a follower of Andruil or not. Let alone where her true loyalty lay. While she had been helping them thus far, there was a chance the moment she fully realized what was going on she would turn on them.
By noon the two woman had lapsed into silence, but tension crackled through the air. It was more than apparent even without turning to them, to know they didn't much like one another. This might prove to be an even greater problem than if he should or shouldn't trust Nysa. A matter of him trusting her or not was one thing, a matter of one of his sentinels not trusting her was another entirely.
If Etha didn't trust Nysa the likelihood the plan Solas had in mind for when they got to the next town wouldn't sit well with Etha. The fact that Etha was also from the family who had served Solas the longest worsened matters. Etha would be the first to lay down everything if it meant protecting her "god" and master. Everything, but, perhaps, the life of her daughter. And, yet, her daughter was already bound to his service. A choice made for the little girl before she could even being to understand what that would mean for her future.
Solas took a deep breath and shoved aside those thoughts. It was a matter to think on later. For now he needed to think more on plans to start fulfilling his promise to Dirthamen and his oldest spirit friends. But going about it would be near impossible. There was no telling how far Andruil had spread her influence by now. It didn't help that if he compared himself to her, he was far less popular with the People than she was.
Perhaps he had buried himself there. After all, he had always been the one to act on prayers of the People even if they hadn't agreed with his methods. The prayers in the dreams as they called out to him and he, in turn, had traveled across Elvhenan to follow on those prayers. Most who prayed to him now were slaves or victims or those driven to desperation when the others hadn't answered their prayers.
Most hadn't liked his answer or his method at answering their requests. Still, he wasn't sure that had done him many favors at the end of the day. Most nobles detested him and some commoners would be more than happy to see him go.
Dirthamen had said he would be called the "Dread Wolf" in the future. Perhaps he was already called such. He had to face the fact that most of his methods were far from conventional. At least he tended to reply more than the others had over the years no matter if his methods were different.
After over an hour on the road, the thin dark gray smudge appeared on the horizon. It was the city they were heading towards. Solas pulled his hart to a stop.
"Why are we stopping?" Nysa asked as she stopped beside Solas.
Solas dismounted to let the hart rest and turned to the others. "We're going to have to split up," he told them.
"What?" Etha gaped. "Master, that would be very dangerous."
"It is the only way to go unnoticed in the town ahead," he told her. "Nysa and I will be the only two to head into the town. The rest of you should stay close to the harts."
"Master," Etha started to protest.
Solas held up his hand to stop her. "If the word has already spread that Andruil and I are on the verge of war, we can't risk being made as," – he hesitated – "followers of Fen'Harel."
Beside him, Nysa nodded. "Makes sense. And all of you have three vallaslin of Fen'Harel. You would be made in moments. We could take the shemlen though."
Etha glared at her. For a moment it seemed she would start to shout at the other woman. Instead she turned to Solas and spoke in tones of barely contained anger, "I don't like this plan. But I will go along with it if you take Aleron with you."
The human stumbled when he dismounted and blinked. "Me?" he asked, looking confused. "I barely know how to fight."
"You've learned some since we started traveling," Etha stated with a glance towards him. "And I don't want," – she hesitated – "Solas, heading into the unknown with only one other person."
Solas had to force himself not to scowl. It was her job to see to his safety. Still it was rather annoying for him to be the one guarded when he was also the one who couldn't really die. Granted, if he ran into Andruil that could change. He still didn't understand all of what had happened to Mythal.
"All right, the three of us will head out now." To Etha, Solas added, "We'll try to return before dark."
Etha nodded. Her gaze was troubled. "If you don't return, we'll head in after you."
"No," Solas shot down the idea. "Wait until dawn then if we don't return, take Felassan and Atisha, get as far from here as you can."
There was a long moment in which Etha hesitated. Her gaze shifted from Solas to her daughter who was playing with Felassan right then. A heavy breath escaped her. "I'll do as you say, Master." She looked up into his face. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
Solas nodded to her before he turned to Nysa and Aleron. "We'll head in on foot."
The trip to the city took them over an hour. None of them spoke and most of the time they kept a good few paces apart from one another.
"Keep your weapon hidden," Solas instructed Aleron when they got close to the town.
The town was larger than the one which rested at the edge of the wasteland. For the most part it was still in Fen'Harel's "domain," but considering how much of a welcome there had been in the last town, he didn't have high hopes for this one.
For the most part, the three of them went unnoticed when they entered the town. More people walked the streets, some heading for shops or just going about their day to day business.
"So, what's the plan?" Nysa asked.
"We need supplies and information." Solas glanced around the street. There were a few shops close to them which might have what they would need. His gaze was drawn from the shops to the slaves. Most had fresh vallaslin of Andruil. The minority of them had vallaslin of others, all but ones which pointed to a master who followed Fen'Harel. His eyes narrowed. This didn't bode well.
"Perhaps we should split up further," Nysa suggested.
Solas looked at her. "Staying together is the wiser course," he stated. Though, split they would be able to cover more ground, he didn't want to risk something happening to either her or Aleron. There were too many here who were loyal to Andruil.
"Fine." Nysa folded her arms cross her chest. Her eyes flashed a little with annoyance. "But I think it's a mistake."
The way she said this made his eyes narrow further. His misgivings towards her stirred once more. Even if keeping her close was a mistake he didn't trust her for a heartbeat.
Solas entered the first shop with the two of them. While Nysa and Aleron gathered the supplies they would need, Solas moved to speak with the store owner. "Do you have the latest news?" he asked.
The store turned to Solas and smiled. "You lot the traveling type, I take it." Her eyes skimmed over Solas's warn clothes to Nysa's nicer leathers. She didn't even bother to look at Aleron. Her gaze flickered back to Solas and she leaned across the counter. "Wars coming," she whispered to him. "Andruil has started to move, even here everyone is being rounded up who won't convert to her or betray Fen'Harel. All the gods are silent, even him."
Solas frowned. While the last few nights he had been more focused on training Felassan, he had been listening for a call to him through the dreams of the People. No one had been.
"How remain loyal to Fen'Harel?" Solas asked.
At this the store own laughed. "If you want to see, head to the main square."
Solas bowed his head to her. "My thanks."
They paid for the supplies before leaving the store.
"Are we going to head for the town square?" Aleron asked.
"Yes." It was the only way left for them to be able to figure what was happening. Even if it was a trap, he needed the information on what Andruil was doing to the people who showed any loyalty to him whatsoever. No matter what she was doing, he couldn't act just yet, not against her, not with so few on his side. Attacking now would be foolish of him.
"Move, filth!" growled a stern voice from the town square. A whip cracked through the air, followed a gasp.
"We didn't do anything wrong!"
Solas moved forward until he could see what was happening. At once he froze. Slaves and commoners alike were being shoved into carriages. Most held bars on the windows and were already packed with people.
"This doesn't look good," Aleron whispered from beside Solas.
Several of the guards forced the people who had been whipped back to their feet. "Get in."
"Why are you doing this?!" screamed one of the captives. "We're not doing anything to harm Andruil."
"You follow Fen'Harel," snarled one of the guards. "That's now a crime against Andruil."
"And all we need to send the lot of you to enslavement camps."
A chill raced through Solas. The camps had to be part of Andruil's plan to filter out those who were "unworthy" of keeping their immortality and those who were worthy. His jaw tightened and nails dug into the soft flesh of his palms. It wasn't their right to decide such things.
"We should get out of here," Aleron whispered, fear lacing his voice.
Solas nodded and backed away from the town center. "Stay calm," he told Aleron and glanced at Nysa. The girl didn't seem the least bit shaken about what they had just seen.
Solas lead them towards the edge of town. The sun would be going down soon and they needed to return to the others. If they could learn where one of the enslavement camps were then they might be able to free those there. It would be a good start to getting an army together in order to stop Andruil and her maddened plan.
Aleron managed to stay calm enough until they were out of the town. "We need to do something!" he started, shaking from head to toe, his eyes wide with fear. "We can't just leave them to Andruil's mercy."
"We will act in due time," Solas stated. "But we can't do anything until we know where the closest encampment is."
"You shouldn't do anything at all!" Nysa argued. "We should get as far from all of this as we can."
Solas gave her an even look. "You're more than welcome to leave, my lady, but I plan on moving forward to face Andruil."
"Andruil has an army," Nysa protested as she followed after him. "What hope do you have stopping her? You're followers have already been rounded up. Even if there was enough of them to match her forces, they're untrained. You would need a miracle to pull off victory."
Solas stopped and turned to her. His gaze locked onto hers. At once she looked away from him. "I will never abandon the People," he stated. "Besides," – he started off down the road once more – "the People who fought alongside us during the war with Forgotten were untrained as well. We still managed to pull off victory. Otherwise we wouldn't be speaking now, da'len."
"But you weren't fighting Andruil! Or any of the other creators back then," Nysa protested.
At this Solas couldn't help it, he gave a short bark of laughter. "The Forgotten were considered the creators back then," he pointed out. "They were Gods in view of the People. There is no difference."
Outside of the fact he would be facing this without his family. And the fact that Andruil was a part of that family. He kept this to himself. He had to view this as he had when he, Elgar'nan, and Mythal had started their push against the Forgotten all those centuries ago. No matter if it was against Andruil and he was facing it with only the People this time.
"No one is keeping you with us," Solas continued. "You're free to head off when you please."
The sound of her following still came to Solas. "I—" her voice cracked. "I'm staying no matter what's to come. You'll need me to train archers," she sounded almost sick as she said this.
Solas looked at her over his shoulder. He stopped and bowed his head to her. "Then you will have my eternal gratitude."
A small smile appeared on her face, though it was wary. "We'd best get back to the others and tell them what's happening then."
Aleron shifted. "Does this mean I have to learn the bow as well as the sword?" he asked as they started off.
Nysa snorted. "Creator's no. You've no talent for bows. You barely skill with sword as it is."
"I'm trying," Aleron protested.
Solas smiled to himself at this. It was the truth, Aleron had more of the mentality of a mage. It wouldn't shock Solas if the human woke to such powers late. Though rare for one his age to awaken as a mage, it was still known to happen. Either that or he would just struggle for the rest of his life to find his footing.
"You're back early," Etha greeted them when they returned to the others.
"There's grave news." Solas told them what they had seen in town while Aleron helped pack the supplies they'd bought.
"Enslavement camps?" Etha pulled her daughter to her, eyes wide. "Can Andruil do that?"
"Obviously she can if she's doing it," Nysa pointed out. "Our fearless leader here wants to find the closest one."
A shiver raced through Solas. There was something wrong. He knelt down and threw up a barrier moments before an arrow would have struck their group.
"Ambush!" he shouted. He scopped up Atisha and his bag and raced over to the brush near them. "Stay here, da'len," he told her in a stern voice as he placed her into the brush.
She stared up at him, eyes wide. Silent tears streamed down her face. She nodded and clutched the bag to her small body.
Solas hesitated a moment before he turned from her. The group had already been surrounded. He was cut off from them. Solas raced forward.
A flash caught his eye. He skidded, only just dodging a blade. He twisted around, ready to strike. Someone grabbed him from behind. Solas elbowed them.
A gasp fled his attacker but they held fast. "Kill the mage, quickly!" he shouted.
Solas twisted from his attacker's grip. Flames leapt out from his hands. A scream filled the air as his attacker was engulfed in the fire. He whipped around. A barrier erupted before him. A dagger flashed, sliding down the invisible field. The soldier drove forward. The barrier was ripped apart faster than Solas could react.
Blinding pain filled his stomach. A snarl escaped. He lashed out. Fingers tipped with the claws of his wolf form flashed in the light of setting sun. Blood flew up around him. A body collapsed before him.
Solas gasped. The warmth of his own blood contrasted with the cold filling his body. The dagger was embedded in his stomach. He gripped the blade and yanked it out. Blood poured from the wound. The world swam before his eyes. He staggered forward. Now wasn't the time to sleep or heal.
Magic crackled through the air as solas forced himself towards his companions.
"Master!" Felassan shouted as he struggled against the hold of several of their attackers.
Nearby Etha was hammering back three more. More were coming at her from behind.
Solas lifted his hand. The world swayed. His legs buckled. His knees bit into the ground. Blood spilled from his lips. The blade must have struck his stomach as he coughed up blood and vile.
No! Solas forced himself back to his feet. Lightening lanced out. It struck two of the attackers. His vision blurred. Blood trickled from his mouth. Air came to him in short, pained bursts.
Pain lanced through his shoulder. The next thing he knew he was on the ground. Everything spun around him. His ears rang.
"Leave that one," the voice was dim as if it was spoken from a great distance. "He won't last the next few minutes as it is. Take the others to the encampments."
Solas struggled to look up. Only blurred images met his searching gaze. He was aware only of the direction the group was heading in. He gasped, struggling for air as he lifted his shaking hand. He had to fight. He had to protect them.
Sleep pulled at his limbs. His body screamed for the healing sleep.
He closed his eyes. Then forced them back open. He couldn't sleep now! He had to – had to protect them.
The blurred shapes vanished. Solas felt his head fall to the earth.
"Hahren?" a soft voice whispered nearby. "Hahren, wake up!" a child's cry rang through the air. Small hands pushed his shoulder. Sobs filled the air.
The haunting sound was the last thing Solas heard before the world blanked out.
(Author's Note: I realized that Abelas refers to Fen'Harel as "the Dread Wolf" in Inquisition. Now this is either because the writers didn't want to say that he was something else or people in time had already started to refer to Fen'Harel as that. Or he got that from the Dalish. It's up in the air there.
Sorry about the late update. I have been sitting on my hands thinking what to with this chapter for a while now. I had a basic idea going in but nothing solid. And another reason is because I have been moving between my book and another Dragon Age fan-fiction that might not be posted until much later. It's one that will take place during the war with the Forgotten… Yeah.)