29 - Secrets
Cassandra and Blackwall lead Cole and Varric to help the Inquisition soldiers clear a path into a secluded grove, and also rebuild a bridge leading to Citadelle du Corbeau, the stronghold for Empress Celene's forces. Iron Bull and Dorian join Solas, Sera, and I as we work on helping the soldiers retake the ramparts scattered across the land. The dead rise in droves and to stop their flow, we have to find the source of all the bodies and burn them. It's sad work that has me cringing in disgust as the smell of burning and rotted flesh smothers the air around us.
After clearing out the second rampart of the day, Sera lets out a big groan.
"What?" Iron Bull asks.
"The Dalish want this back?"
I crinkle my nose. I can't help but agree. Even though I feel the same pull, the same desire to take back these lands that were once promised to us, I understand what she means. This land is permanently damaged, the Veil thin. The whispers around are constant, flitting across the skin like a hummingbird caressing a flower to draw out the nectar. It's unnerving.
"This region will be home to demons for ages to come," Solas says, mirroring my thoughts. "The Plains have been soaked in too much unexalted blood."
We push forward, retaking all three ramparts scattered across the land. By the time we're done, we're near Fort Revasan, the stronghold for Grand Duke Gaspard's troops. When we reach it, we're thanked heavily by the lieutenant for clearing the ramparts and helping them clear the land.
Just outside the fort, we run into the other companions clearing the last of the rubble blocking the archway into a small grove. Again, as seem to be everywhere, a statue of Fen'Harel lay outside of the archway, facing outward.
"We're almost done here, Inquisitor," Cassandra says. "We should have access to this area within the hour."
"What about the collapsed bridge?"
"That should be done sometime tomorrow," Blackwall answers.
"Good," Solas says. "Who knows how long they've been cut off from contact."
We gladly jump in to help clear the last of the blockage. By the time we're done, the sky has turned dark and the winds have picked up.
On the other side of the archway is a small tunnel, clouded with fog. Passed the tunnel we find a small clearing, full of fog and trees absent of leaves. In the center stands a giant statue of a great halla—Ghilan'nain, the mother of Halla.
"Oh," I breathe.
This land sings to me more deeply than the entirety of the Dirth together. I can feel the power beneath my toes, swirling and pulsing.
"It's quiet here," Solas whispers. "I like it."
I nod in agreement.
The scouts quickly set up a small camp off to the side of the Ghilan'nain statue. Despite the darkness, thick with fog, my body wants nothing more than to explore this place, untouched for who knows how long. What secrets hide here? What stories will we discover?
There is a rift not far from the camp, so Cassandra and Solas quickly join me to go take down the demons and close it.
I explore the small clearing as everyone else eats and drinks. I don't wander too far, not straying past the other ancient archways leading deeper into the area. By the time all my friends have gone quiet, I know every nook and cranny of Ghilan'nain's Grove by heart.
I do not jump when I hear footsteps behind me.
"I did promise you a trip into the Fade, did I not?"
I look over my shoulder at Solas. "You did."
"Then come. I already have the herbs ready."
I follow him over to where the rift had once hovered. Two bedrolls are already ready, a bowl of herbs smoking between them.
"This will be just as last time. However, you will be following me into my dreams instead."
"How do I do that?"
"I will find you and guide you."
I nod, feeling my pulse start to race. I crawl into the closest of the rolls, laying my head down and closing my eyes, breathing in the scent of the herbs washing over me.
It happens faster than last time. In one breath I go from laying on the floor to standing next to Ghilan'nain's statue. I gasp as I glance around, taking in the changes around me.
The Fade is much different here. It's thick, sky swirling green above, ground hazy beneath my feet. Everywhere I look, spirits dash in and out of sight, dancing, laughing. One comes right up to me, giggling as it swirls out of sight just before touching me.
I jump as something grabs my hand. I look down, see a small spirit there, fading in and out of existence. It pulls at my hand, trying to take me away from the statue.
"I'm waiting for someone," I say, trying hard to think of it as nothing more than what it is right now.
"He's over there." It speaks in Elven. "Pride waits for you." It points toward where our bedrolls lay back in the physical world.
I nod, letting it pull me. As soon as I make to follow, it lets go and floats ahead of me. Once it crosses through the archway, it disappears in a whirl of smoke and a laugh.
Solas is waiting, just like the spirit said. He smiles as I walk up, holding out his hand.
"Did you send that spirit for me?"
"Of course."
I take his hand.
"Come. You should see what lies ahead."
He pulls me forward, around the ruins of the walls surrounding us. I stay quiet, watching the spirits flit in and out.
"They're funny little things," I whisper.
He chuckles. "Yes. The wisps are quite playful and curious things."
"Are there always so many?"
"No. Like I said, they're curious."
"About what?"
"You. They like your spirit. As do I."
I smile, though it's small and unsure.
"Do not fear. They mean us no harm."
"I know."
We travel down the path, watch the hills around us spread wider. On the ground in front of us is a large stone hand, its body no where in sight.
"Dead Hand is what the humans call this," Solas says.
"Fitting."
He laughs.
He leads me down a set of stairs that descend into a dark hole in the ground. Deep beneath the earth we find an ancient temple which holds statues of both Falon'Din (1) and Dirthamen (2). In the center is a great chamber, seemingly untouched for ages.
"Show us the way," Solas speaks.
The spirits around us pick up speed, chattering, whispering.
My body shivers as Solas's hand trails down my back. "Watch carefully."
The spirits flit around the room, lighting torches, pulling levers so doors open and close, spinning the great statue of an elven archer. With each spin, it lets loose a great arrow of power that then hovers in one of four spheres. Using the torches and levers, the spirits lower the pillars blocking the arrow's path until all four shine brightly.
The power in the orbs then dance over to the far end of the room, throwing open the gate. Almost immediately, Solas pulls me forward and we ascend, moving through the dancing spirits as if they aren't there.
We come back to the surface, finding ourselves in a dark bog.
"What was that?" I ask.
"One of many ancient ruins hidden in this place. A test of cunning and wit."
"Why did the spirits show us so willingly?"
"You just have to ask."
I look back toward the tunnel we had just come through. "Will that be accessible back in the physical world?"
"Of course. And now, we will know its secret and how to pass through unharmed."
My mouth twitches. "So this is what you do when you dream, then? Find ruins and learn their secrets."
He smiles.
"Fascinating," I mutter.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
"Quite."
"There is more still, then."
"More?"
He says nothing, just uses my hand to pull me forward into the waters. The spirits guide us now, as if they know exactly where Solas wishes to go. I say nothing.
We walk into a clearing. Up ahead, I see a set of stairs standing alone. I know without asking that this is what he had wanted me to see. I move ahead of him, walk up the stairs that are half collapsed into the waters. At the end of the narrow walkway is an archway that leads to the side of the mountain before ending in rubble. On either side of the archway…
"It's…a shrine to Fen'Harel," I whisper.
Two wolves sit on either side, heads up in a silent howl. One is black and the other white.
"Yes," Solas whispers. "As I said, he was not always seen as evil."
I swallow, approaching the archway. Directly in the middle stands a table. On the table are two bowls, both knocked over sideways, contents spilling onto the ground.
Even though my heart pounds, I do not hesitate. I reach over, pull the bowls upright, placing the flowers back inside.
"Do you have anything I can offer?" I ask.
"I…"
I look over my shoulder at him. His eyes are curious, torn.
"Think of what you wish for and the Fade will make it so."
It takes only a second for me to know what I would like to place at the alter. When I turn, a single Crystal Grace lay on the ground in front of me. I reach down and pick it up to place it in one of the bowls. Then, the Fade knowing what I want before I even do, a small ring appears on the table. I pick it up as well, glancing at it. The carvings on the sylvanwood ring almost seem to glow, the minuscule wolf dancing across the surface. I place it in the bowl as well.
When I turn, it's to find Solas leaning on his staff, watching me, eyes thoughtful.
"What?" I ask.
"Why those two things?"
"I—" I shrug. "Crystal Grace is my favorite flower. And the ring…Keepers wear it to remind themselves about the betrayal. I am no Keeper so I do not have one myself, but it seemed fitting."
There is something very sad about the small smile on his lips. "You believe me, then?"
"I…I am open to the idea that you may be right about this."
He raises his eyebrows. "I am right about this."
I twist my hands in front of me. "Like I said, I'm open to the idea."
He chuckles. "That is…more than most." He reaches out, grabs my hand, pulls me toward him.
His kiss makes my heart race, my head spin. His hands sliding down my back brings heat up into my cheeks. The spirits around us giggle, voices brushing over my skin.
He pulls away and I let out a deep breath. I blink a few times, clearing my head.
"What do you believe in?" I ask.
"I believe the elven gods existed, but do not think any of them were truly gods."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I believe they were no more than powerful mages, whose deeds ascended them into legend that turned into godhood."
This shakes me more than I anticipate. I feel it deep in my core, feel my world start to crack. "The gods…weren't gods? They were just…mages?"
I can see in his eyes how he thinks, backtracks. "It's merely what I believe. Like you asked of me."
I shake my head. "B-but you've traveled the Fade. Seen truths and pasts we—"
"Vhenan, hush. Do not take the Fade so literally."
My chest pulses. What if he's right? What if the elven gods weren't real? What if they were just…people?
"Please, my heart." He reaches out, caresses my cheek. This pulls me back a small bit. "Let us head back. I am sure the Seeker will be looking for us."
Next moment, I'm sitting up, the world no longer swirling and twisting around me. I let out a deep breath as I throw off the blanket covering me.
Solas isn't there. His bedroll is gone.
I take a moment to let my panic overtake me, breathing into my knees. The gods weren't real. What did that mean? How much of my culture was based off of lies and half-truths?
"Inquisitor!"
I jump, looking up just when Cassandra appears, Solas a few feet behind her. Her eyes are wide.
"What is it?" I ask, standing.
"I just received word from Leliana. She asks that you return immediately."
"I—" I look at Solas. His eyes are hard, shoulders stiff. I feel my stomach drop. "What happened?"
"It's…it's about your clan."
(1) Falon'Din - elven god of death and fortune; guides the dead to the Beyond; twin of Dirthamen
(2) Dirthamen - elven god of secrets and knowledge; twin of Falon'Din
