"Those were elves." Evelyn slowly stretched her hand, wiggling each finger in turn, before making a fist. The entire assembly was making these sorts of gestures, testing bone and tendon to ensure everything was still operational after the large concussive shock had sent them all tumbling over ancient stone.
"They were," Solas agreed. "There are clans in this forest."
"Yes," Evelyn frowned. "But those were not Dalish elves."
"They sure as hell weren't city elves. Not out here, not dressed like that." Varric shook some dust off the tails of his coat. "They had the markings of the Dalish, but not the style. They were a bit more... military, almost. Precision strikes, advanced training in arms... and that armor." Varric pursed his lips. "Shit's weird."
Solas said nothing, he didn't need to. So it was as obvious to the others as it was to him that the elves dwelling in this forest were unique. He'd wondered how many of the defenses still held, how long the loyalty would remain after the Vallaslin's owner had fallen. He'd not expected to find a full army still within, waiting, protecting, watching.
"Whoever they are, I believe it best we try to avoid them. At least until we understand what they want."
"They seemed to want to kill us, out there." Evelyn rolled her shoulder in a slow circle, rubbing distractedly at the joint. "Avoiding them might not be enough."
She was still not looking directly at him, a new habit that seemed to develop sometime between their last curt words the night before and breakfast this morning. She'd been up and out before he'd fully gotten his bearings, marching along the encampment to address various dignitaries and troops, scrutinizing the formations, doing whatever she could to avoid his quizzical stare. All the while her eager Vael shadow stayed near her side, offering introductions, suggesting alternatives, pointing out the damned foilage.
At least he hadn't managed to worm his way into their exploratory party. The last thing any of them needed was his insipid commentary on every tile, every bit of leaf or bark.
"You okay, Chuckles? You look set to murder someone," Varric again, his voice lowered in a conspiratorial manner.
"I am concerned about the path ahead, Master Tethras, nothing more."
The selfsame path led them along the perimeter of the Temple, its walls still holding, even after all these long years. Solas lagged behind the party, listening to the whisper of the trees. It was easier to remain behind than to risk another fiery exchange with the Lady Morrigan, who now stumbled through another Elvhen translation. Her grasp of the language was impressive, but still only partially correct. To read the words engraved on these stones, you needed to be able to see beyond the words themselves, to infer the meaning from the world that surrounded them. It was a full picture her mortal human brain could only glimpse as if through a silk sheet. She caught shapes and shadows and did her best to divine meaning from the abstract. It would be infuriating if he wasn't so heavy with dread.
The dread did not dispell when they found only red templars within the walls, nor when they were dispatched with easily. He felt the silent movement of the guardians above them, knew they watched with curiosity. Would these human intruders dance along the paths, the way she had wished them to? Or would they blunder ahead, crashing through walls and doors, destruction their only offering to the once-mighty Mythal?
Evelyn was staring at him, still not meeting his eyes. She stared at a spot directly in the center of his chest. Being in this place made him feel unattached from his body, floating and drunk on memory, and for a moment he feared she was reading his heart. The damnable thing was never as easy to control as his thoughts. He almost laughed, and the stone around him shivered in response. Could they feel it too? Did they know how the rooms here knew him? Pull yourself together. Solas had a fleeting regret they had not brought Sera along. It would have been interesting, to see how she behaved here.
The others, for their part, were too busy arguing to notice him at all. It ended with Evelyn declaring she would perform the rituals to proceed, the victory spreading across Morrigan's face as Varric and Blackwall released disappointed breaths.
"This is... odd," Morrigan raised a perfectly arched brow. "I did not notice before."
"We were sort of being attacked before," Varric replied. "I think there's probably much we missed."
"Aye," she said faintly, stepping back over the crumbled remnants of a pillar. "Still, 'tis a mystery worth pondering."
Evelyn followed her across the portico, carefully working her way around a grouping of colorful birds who did not seem the least disturbed by her presence.
"Why," Morrigan shifted her weight as she spoke, "would a statue of Fen'Harel be in a temple of Mythal?"
"Aren't they always near Dalish encampments?" Evelyn asked, staring at the birds, who had arranged themselves in a perfect circle on the floor.
"They are," Morrigan's voice was full of wonder, "that, however, is a Dalish affectation. Mythal and Fen'Harel would have been at odds. I wonder if this were added much later."
"It looks as old and dusty as everything else," Varric added.
"Perhaps," Solas said softly, "the Dalish know something you do not."
Morrigan turned, "I have studied the Elvhen for years. If I tell you 'tis odd, I assure you, it is."
Solas swallowed his response, feeling it burn all the way down. "By all means," he affected an exaggerated bow, "please enlighten me on all things elvhen."
Her nostrils flared slightly. "It does not matter. This is not the purpose of our visit."
Her irritating tendency to misinterpret elvhen art did not stop with the wolf statue. Solas gritted his teeth as she explained each mosaic, attributing wildly inaccurate tales of the history and meaning of each Evanuris. This was the education she'd given herself, reading histories of a forgotten time, written by men with agendas of their own, giving their own biased worldview to beings who existed in a world unlike anything any of them could imagine. It was almost a relief to find themselves stumbling into the echoey central hall of the temple, even though he knew what likely awaited them there.
And there he was, armor still polished, stern expression unchanging. He had been called Athras, in the time when they were brothers. A great warrior, silent and lethal, mind sharp as his blade. He had not left with the others, when the time came, loyal still to a cause he was born into. He now called himself Abelas. This stung deep in Solas' chest. To brand oneself with a name such as that. Had Solas loved her so little? Was his own name a betrayal?
This was one of many moments he would puzzle over in the weeks to come. Each memory frozen in time like one of his frescoes, bright and permanently etched. The moment when Morrigan made for the Well herself, chasing after Abelas. Blackwall's confusion, "Did you know she could turn into a bird?" The moment Samson finally fell, his armor shattered into so many pieces. The gaze of familiarity, of knowing, that passed between himself and the now-Abelas. Then Evelyn, arguing with him, arguing with Morrigan, stubbornly wading into those crystalline waters and drinking deeply, staring directly into his eyes as she did so, as if daring him to try and stop her.
These moments burned, as did the first when they passed back through the Eluvian, into Skyhold's embrace. That was the moment he had stooped to help her up, feeling her hand secure and sure in his own, and then saw her face. She stared at him with an understanding that he had not seen before, something dark and deep that almost frightened him in its intensity. Her eyes now tinged with golden light as she craned her neck in a way that was both alien and all too familiar, seeing the slip of awareness of what lies beneath, now awakened. He stumbled backward then, letting her fall back onto her hands and knees.
"Sweet Andraste, are you trying to kill her?" Blackwall pulled Evelyn to her feet, slipping an arm around her waist. When Evelyn turned back to him only hurt and confusion read across her face, the invader asleep once again.