CHAPTER 42
It had been over a year since Solas had last visited the warehouse that held Mythal's hoard of ancient treasures. After she had died, the Inquisition had tracked down her scattered stockpiles of ceramics, amulets, and other priceless heirlooms. The first time he had been given a detailed inventory list, Solas was struck with the depth and fervor Mythal had demonstrated in her collecting habits. Over her lifetime she had amassed an exhaustive archive of artifacts ranging from tiny stone figurines to broken mirrors.
It had been easy for him to give away the rest of the estate he had inherited. The money, after all, had been tainted. Although Solas did not doubt that the circumstances surrounding some of Mythal's acquisitions were nefarious, it was difficult for him to identify the right restitution. Originally, he thought to give the collection to a museum, if not one of the Dalish reservations, but he found many institutions reluctant to take on the burden of safekeeping-or would be unable to properly care for it entirely.
So the unparalleled stockpile of rare wonders sat in climate-controlled storage, barely seen except for a skeleton crew of art handlers and conservators employed by the Inquisition.
Upon reflection, Solas thought that meeting Ellana was kismet. While he was not a religious man, preferring to leave the questions of what defined and moved the universe to science, even he had to admit that the subsequent events that kept bringing the pair together had exceeded serendipity.
Solas knew he'd never forget the loud gasp that Ellana let out the moment she entered the warehouse. The entry room was completely lined with a series of carefully reconstructed gold mosaics that were about five thousand years old. Each panel, reaching up to the ceiling, represented one of the several forces that the ancient elves believed shaped the world. As Solas understood it, the ancients had not worshipped concrete entities, so distinct geometric patterns embodied rather than depicted definite subjects.
There was probably no other place in Thedas that housed a complete set.
"I should have brought you here sooner," Solas apologized again wistfully. Ellana was not listening to a single word he said, walking to stand with her nose almost pressed against the small pieces of tile as if to memorize the entire scene. The sunglasses she had placed on top of her head threatened to fall off any second.
"How?" She muttered in disbelief, not to anyone in particular, if perhaps only the air in the room. Solas didn't speak for some time, leaning against the opposite cement wall attempting poorly not to be too noticeable in his admiration of Ellana. He had not brought here with any intention of wooing the art historian, but watching her wonder was an enjoyable side-benefit.
It was a bit insensitive, but in the car when Ellana confessed she was single, he had to stifle a giddy smile. Solas had resigned himself, after Fernis' outburst at The Kirkwall, for the artist to remain for quite some time-if not indefinitely. Not that he was planning to rush in again.
When Ellana tore herself away from the murals, Solas did not pretend to hide his smile as she whispered to him in awe, "There is material here for at least a dozen books!" Her hand was clasped on her cheek.
"Pace yourself," Solas teased, "This is only the entryway.
The comment earned him a rare grin.
"How extensive is this collection?" Ellana asked, her voice was taut as if in a state of shock. "The catalog didn't seem sizeable enough to-"
"The catalog was only the highlights. Some of the objects are not impressive, mere shards, and small wisps of textiles. There is a tiny Inquisition staff who continue to uncover objects or who attempt to categorize them."
"I didn't think the Inquisition existed, Professor," Ellana countered with an arched eyebrow.
"I misspoke." Solas hastily corrected. It was best, after all, to at least attempt to keep up some appearances, even if Ellana would not be fooled.
Gesturing to a secure doorway, Solas could hear Ellana's ebullient step echoing behind him. He managed to enter a seemingly endless string of numbers into a touchpad before a muffled voice responded that they'd be down in just a moment. The usually composed art historian was excitedly tapping her foot and fidgeting with the strap of her purse. Her nervousness abating the moment that a blonde-haired woman in a white lab coat opened the door.
"Solas," The woman, named Anora, greeted. He did not know the conservator well but understood her to be very efficiently minded, with very little patience for small talk or warmth.
"Anora, this is my colleague, Dr. Ellana Lavellan. An expert on ancient elven and Dalish visual and material culture." Solas gestured to Ellana, it was hard for him not to keep the pride out of his voice. Turning to Ellana he continued, "Anora is the head conservator and in charge of maintaining the collection."
"Dr. Lavellan, The author of Fade Objects?"
"I'm flattered you've heard of my work," Ellana responded graciously, shaking Anora's hand.
"I must admit it is exciting to have you visit the collection. I've worked with the artifacts for almost a decade now and there isn't much scholarship on the subject, nor scholars come to think of it."
"Thank you for taking the time," Ellana responded with a poised bow.
"A pleasure," Anora said absently, waving for the two to follow her up to the viewing room.
Solas noticed that Ellana had to cover her mouth to keep from exclaiming too audibly again, Not that Anora would pay any attention. Such emotional outbursts, however warranted, seemed below her notice.
The space that welcomed them was a room made up of walls of large frosted glass windows, included a state-of-the-art lighting and heating system that allowed for perfect control over the viewing conditions. A long plastic table stretched across the length of the room. It would have felt sterile, like an operating room, except for the colorful gilded objects that were carefully laid out for study.
Solas was curious to see what Ellana had requested for the exhibition. He had been in a hurry that morning when he had called Anora with the different barcode numbers that worked to register each object's place in storage. Surveying the table, he observed a wide range of artifacts: a few gold trinkets the size of his palm in acid-free paper boxes, to larger animal totems placed carefully on felt blankets to keep them from sliding.
Absently, Solas circled the table, looking down at a gold wolf figurine the size of a watermelon. Its snout was turned upwards, as if it were howling, a glittering green fade crystal in its nose, the reflection of which was striking.
"Isn't that interesting?" Ellana said next to him, attentively putting on a pair of white gloves to handle the statuette. "If you used the right spell, you'd be able to activate the crystal, and music would play."
"Do you know the spell?" He earnestly inquired. The idea of a prehistoric musical score intrigued him.
"If only," She shook her head. "I saw something like this in the Fade once. At least, I think it was music. By the time I grew close enough to observe the spirits the words changed too quickly for me to keep track of."
Turning, Ellana carefully picked up an iron headdress made to look like halla antlers. Pointing different features out to Solas he was mesmerized as the art historian shared her theories of how wearing suck a token would allow the magic-user more focus as they cast spells, if not offer specific protections as elven mages wove various elemental spells in ancient rituals meant to bring about balance or peace.
Although Solas had lived much of his young life among such beautiful things, he had never given them much attention or focus. Certainly, not the way Ellana did, her sense for detail and purpose was seemingly intuitive and never-ending.
The logic of her selections for the exhibition, Ellana elaborated, were items that augmented the brain. It was common knowledge, that magic was stronger for the elves, even if the scientific circumstances of why weren't clear. Although the ancient Elvhen did not have a thorough understanding of neurology, it was clear that the objects they crafted, or so Ellana argued with Solas' agreement, responded to brain waves in a way that science had yet to fully explain.
It was understood generally, that magic was related to the Fade, which was separated by what mages, and later physicists, termed the Veil. Some mages were able to draw more from the "other side," as they often called it, while others needed the boosting effects of lyrium or other rituals, like Blood magic.
Picking up a circular clay disk, which Solas thought might be a shallow bowl, Ellana pointed to the different symbols carved along the rim, each rune indicative of a certain type of element. If the user, as she had seen in the Fade, filled the dish with water the pool would flash different colored lights which the elves would have associated with different forces.
"What for?" Solas asked in amazement.
"A game maybe? Ellana replied in what Solas was learning was her lecture voice. "Divination?"
"Have you ever tried to use your magic on an object?"
"No, the only ones I've really seen up close are in the Fade, or in scattered art museums behind a display case. I handled early Tevinter objects when I was an intern in the Minrathous Museum of Art," she said as by way of an explanation of how she managed to know the proper way to hold the artworks in front of her. "I also don't think anyone has the magic enough to activate any of these objects, If magic is truly in decline as all the magic scholars say it is, I'm doubtful that any residual capabilities will be unlocked."
"You don't feel it? The decline?" Solas asked curiously. He was still considered by all accounts to be a strong mage. His healing skills were largely unaffected in terms of strength, but the effort to draw upon them left him just a bit more tired after casting as the years went on.
"I don't know what you mean?" Ellana stumbled. A statement more than a question. Solas was about to ask her to clarify when Anora knocked on the open door and wheeled a cart in with a peculiar-looking sphere on a stand.
"I was able to locate the last object you wanted. I'm not sure what it does, but I have to warn you, it's rather a strange thing."
"Oh, I was so overwhelmed, I forgot about this one," Ellana sighed wistfully, distracted from the previous conversation. She moved to crouch next to the large sphere-like instrument. Solas had no idea what it was. Grimly, he detected a thickening of magic in the atmosphere, the sensation of which he would liken to a buzzing field of summer mayflies.
"I swear it moves around the different storage rooms." Anora explained, "Somehow, I'll log it in one room, and it will turn up in another. Took me almost all morning to find it. It didn't show up until after you arrived."
"Is that so?" Ellana said curiously. She looked about to touch it, before looking down at her white gloves. "I should go wash my hands, Since this is glass the gloves would not be wise in terms of a steady grip."
Anora pointed down the hallway and Ellana stomped off. Her clogs echoed. Solas noticed for the first time that, in her excitement, Ellana had yet to remove her leopard-patterned faux fur coat.
Solas watched as Anora, picked up the artifact out of its base to place it on an empty felt blanket. The sphere was made out of heavy amethyst glass with platinum vines curled around placing some lead weights to keep the item stable, Anora stepped back with a satisfied nod.
"Colleagues?" She asked with a knowing smile. Although Solas was, in some ways, not one for nuance, however he did not struggle to pick up on the conservator's hinting.
"Fellow faculty members at the University of Orlais, in fact," Solas responded with a coy grin, his fingers placed over his mouth as if holding in a secret.
"She's very good at this." Anora acknowledged. "It would be wonderful if she could offer more insights into the of what I do is guess work surrounding material. No clue what any of these things do."
"You're right," he agreed as Ellana returned. Solas noted that she had finally removed her jacket, which she carefully placed on a chair against the wal.
"I'll leave you two then," Anora announced with a wink.
"What is it?" Solas asked when the door was shut again.
"A measuring device is my best guess," Ellana sighed, "But of what? I am unsure. It could have been used to detect magic or the weather? I've only read about these spheres. For a while collecting them was all the vogue amongst Orlesian royals. In any event-"
Solas enjoyed the way Ellana's hands wiggled in the air as she eagerly approached the artifact, her words trailing off in awe. The moment her skin met the glass, however, a spark fizzled out in the room and Ellana let go of the sphere with a painful cry. Solas was anxious when he detected the smell of something burning like eggs left on the stove.
Recoiling backward, Ellana was obstructed from retreating further by one of the glass walls, her petite form convulsing much as it had in the library a few weeks prior. Holding up her hands before her, Solas saw the unmistakable terror in her hazel eyes as her hands sparked with unrelenting magic.
One didn't need to be a mage to observe how ferocious the sorcery they weren't careful it would take over entirely.
"Don't panic," Solas instructed, careful to keep his voice steady as he slowly approached Ellana. Years of working in the Emergency Room had given him the practiced strength to calm frantic mages.
The force threatened to knock him back. He was impressed however, at the discipline Ellana showed, her jaw locked in deep concentration as she fought to contain the neon glow flickering on her fingertips.
Spanning the distance between them with a few short steps, Solas placed his hands around hers, summoning with all his ability, an incantation of dispel that made his teeth chatter upon casting.