I cannot see the path.

Perhaps there is only abyss.

Trembling, I step forward,

In darkness enveloped.

Trials 1, 13, 1-4

Morrigan smiled, her glance set upon Leliana, whose already tiny frame seemed to have shrunk further with every word Cassandra spoke.

'Well,' she uttered, when, at long length, Cassandra came to the end of her bewildering tale, 'now, you do know.'

'And you would have us think that you have known this all along? That Tevinter's Old Gods are The Forgotten Ones of Elvhenan? That they are…' Cassandra asked, clenching her jaws, for the serene happiness on the witch's features was enough to turn her stomach once again.

Morrigan shrugged. 'All along and for certain, no. But after the Well, I knew.'

'And you said…nothing,' Leliana whispered.

'Indeed, for there was no compelling reason to speak of it. There is none now, in truth, other than the sight of what was most precious to you, Nightingale being so abruptly taken from you – mayhaps now you will feel what it is like to have the one thing that you love, the only thing you've ever loved so brutally torn from your very flesh. My only regret is that Lavellan is not here to watch you crumble, too. She'd be relishing the sight, this I know…'

'Did she know of this as well?' Leliana asked, biting her lower lip in anger. 'Was this her plan, the one you would not share?'

Morrigan sighed and rolled her eyes. 'Lavellan had no intention of waking the Old Gods; she might not even realise she has done it, because it would have been impossible if Solas' actions had not coincidentally helped. I swear,' she once more chuckled, 'link by surprising link, I see a chain of fate that binds these two much tighter together even as from each other they try to pull away.'

'The world is coming to an end around us,' Cassandra said, shaking her head in fury, 'and all you do is mock. Are you not of this world? Is your child not…'

'How unfittingly melodramatic of you, Seeker Penthaghast,' Morrigan smirked, gracefully lowering herself into a chair. 'The only thing that is indeed nearing its end is your Chant of Lies and its unworthy domination over all life. The unchanging world itself is in safer, shall we say…talons than it has ever been. The Forgotten Ones will not chance the full removal of the veil – this could well lead to their foes being freed as well; from what you recount of your crossing of paths with them, their vengeance upon Elvhenan of old is done, and they are in no mood to crush ants now.'

'But Solas they will crush,' she neutrally said, 'as they will crush Mythal.' She followed, this time, in obvious cruel satisfaction. 'You should be joyous.'

'And then what, Morrigan?' Cassandra muttered. 'A reborn Ancient Tevinter? Dragon cults soaring?'

'Perhaps even a reborn Elvhenan, if they are so inclined,' the witch responded. 'An age of miracles returns – and yes, lion and hound will grovel and whine before the rising dragons…but I must ask, Seeker, for this too is a sight I would have cherished to behold. How was the look upon the Archon's features, when he was shown that even in their years of glory, even as they crushed helpless, crippled Elvhenan under their mighty heel, they worshipped the slave race? Did he pale? Did he faint?'

Tired of countering, Cassandra let herself fall into a chair as well, and merely shook her head.

'Radonis…' she said, softly, 'is not the man that I imagined. He's not the man that you imagine, witch. And neither are,' she brought herself to say, 'Mystery and Contemplation…Are those even their real names?' she asked. 'You can tell us the truth now. It no longer matters; nothing matters any longer.'

Morrigan bit her lower lip. 'Mystery and Contemplation they called themselves,' she answered, 'when they chose godly seats. I do not see why you would need to know the names the people called them before that. They shall reveal themselves fully, in time, if they are still unwise; if they have something learnt from their mistakes, it is unlikely that they will.'

Cassandra looked her in the eye. 'They did not feel, they do not feel…'

'Evil?' Morrigan queried. 'None said they were, not even Solas thus asserted. They merely lost a short battle in a long war, for the tender sin of being trusting of one they thought a friend; a familiar tale, by now, I should think – yet it is for the victor to make judgements, so indeed, a legend of their evil was spun, and spread, until all memory of them was overcome. What they were, though,' she followed, 'was more eager to directly assert power on the world they saw as below them. Not all exercise of power must be wicked. Nor must it be good. Power, such as they held, knows much nuance.'

She greatly pondered her next words, as if judging the other two were worthy of hearing them.

'The nature of these beings is one of great nuance, too…They were indeed part of the people, once, but they did transcend even immortal Elvhen glory.' Morrigan said, softly. 'This conflict that Solas is still caught in, despite the fact that he earnestly tried to quench it even millennia ago, was sparked by the fact that at the moment of their transcendence, there were many who remembered the names they were called before they made themselves Gods. Many, Mythal and the Evanuris included, who refused to see them as such, because they were, themselves transcended, but would not so easily shed their mortal, if you will, roots.'

'You see how only one of them can shake the foundation of the world,' Morrigan shrugged. 'Imagine the destruction that fourteen of them might have caused, in their clash.'

'And Solas…' Cassandra softly prompted, shaking her head.

'Then, as now, a dreamer far fonder of his dreams than of people made of flesh could finally no longer remain aloof; he had both the the power and the position to take action, and he did. Both sides thought him their ally, not because he supported them in any material way, but because he had never before hindered, thus... His distance from the people, from his people, was however not one borne of indifference or hatred or despise. He simply…'

'Preferred the company of spirits,' Cassandra sighed, and Morrigan nodded.

'Yet now, not even he could remain idle, and he did not believe the Forgotten Ones Gods more than the Evanuris did, so…'

She once more shrugged. 'It did not occur to the great trickster, or Mythal for that matter, that the seed of separation between the weak and the strong had taken root. The Evanuris were already eating of the forbidden fruit, and they too claimed Godhood; more fond of truth than peace, Mythal stood in their way. 'Twas not the power that they feared, but that of the Well, for it preserved memories of when they had not been…Gods, and so…'

'No voices of the Well are needed for you to know the rest; only Lavellan's voice, the one voice that in this entire turmoil you, Nightingale, mistrusted most…Perhaps, after their years of imprisonment, and their very real experience of the fact that a too crowded, ambition laden path to the heavens will very literally destroy both those at the very bottom and those at the top, Mystery and Contemplation choose differently now than they did the first time around; perhaps their long lost names, when they too were unchanging, should remain lost.'

'Yet still, they are not Gods,' Leliana spat. 'They are simply…simply,' she followed, darting out of her own seat, 'elevated mages. Like Fen'Harel, they are…'

'So much god-like in power that they may as well be Gods. In fact, so secure in themselves that they do not even bother to deny that others like them exist, they don't even deny your so-called Maker... Do you forget, bird of song, that you believed that he created the veil? And even with that lie openly thwarted, you still pray to his verse.'

'I know what burns in my heart,' Leliana said, spinning on Morrigan, her hand on her dagger's hilt. 'I know what I have seen, the vision that brought me to the Maker's House.'

Morrigan smiled, cruelty in the condescending kindness of the expression.

'Spend a minute with the Augur of Mystery, and she will give you more visions than the Maker ever did, Leliana.'

'It could still all be a lie, concocted by Tevinter…'

'No, it is truth.' Cassandra said, in great sorrow. 'I saw it, and it was not a vision of glory. It was a vision of a mistake, a terrible mistake, no more pleasing to Radonis than it was to me. They failed, in their quest for freedom; Dumat chose to die first as his was the idea of elevating the Magisters Sidereal. He hoped to give the others a chance to flee, in his death thrashings, to hide and burrow as best they could. Not much,' she whispered, 'not in the way they regard time, but he tried. The Old Gods never intended for the Blights; the Blights were the doing of the Magisters Sidereal's attempts at tricking their own deities, and merging with them – these…these entities defended themselves as best they could, but the bond had been forged already, thus, to the day, the darkspawn seek them…'

'I've no doubt in what I saw. Only the truth of things could be so…pointlessly cruel and deprived of causality,' she whispered. 'Isn't that what we all worship, in the end? Causality?'

'It is still there,' Morrigan said, for the first time sounding kind. 'It is simply not the one you imagined.'

'If what they say is true, however,' Cassandra whispered, 'what happens to us all, now? I doubt either Lusacan or Razikale will wait for Solas to mend the veil before they crush him. The torment of the continent is undeniable…'

'Not all the continent,' Morrigan muttered. 'Under the wings of its dragons, unassailable Minrathous fares fine, or did you not notice? No mages are bursting into flaming abominations, though by the fairy tale of the Chant they should, given how much they deal with the distorted dwellers of the fade, and how much blood they shed to hold their magic. Nor are their people going mad in the streets and villages, because there are no mages hiding in terror of imprisonment.'

'But we are not of Tevinter, Morrigan.' Cassandra said. 'Our homelands will fall victim to…'

'…the lies that you, your worship, forced them to believe.' Morrigan said, again, not cruelly. 'Even with the veil thinned, though, even if Solas does not mend what he broke this time around, a balance will come. You,' she sighed, 'none of you listen to what your betters speak: indeed, the demons have broached first, for they had always sought to descend. Yet in the Fade, there dwell good spirits – of mercy, of fairness, of compassion. A spirit of compassion fought beside you in the year of the Inquisition, he too shaped into human flesh by will alone. A spirit of wisdom fought beside the Hero of Ferelden, Leliana, inhabiting Wynne's shape without re-shaping her. 'Tis not all bad.'

'A balance will come,' Morrigan ended. 'A balance always comes...'

She stood, and glanced inside their forgotten eluvian, her features suddenly tense, for, without influence, the mirror had begun to ripple.

'…tis simply odd how those who declare their faith in good think it so weak, and assume its defeat…' Morrigan dreamily ended. 'Cassandra,' she asked, her voice and glance suddenly sharp. 'Did Radonis finally yield where Pavus and Lavellan went, and what the Inquisitor's plans were?'

'Why does it matter?' Casandra asked. 'It's all out of our hands and in the dragons' talons now.'

Morrigan sucked air between her teeth. 'Not so,' she said, still glancing at the mirror in fascination. 'The dragons are awake, yes, yet it took Solas three years or more, not to mention Mythal's presence to regain his powers; we have no true guarantee that the others can now, immediately, crush him, should Lavellan fail in her plans. Without Lavellan, they might well be crushed.'

'An insight one could only expect from the intended vessel of Mythal,' Lusacan spoke, materialising behind Morrigan; Razikale swiftly followed, and, for all of her bravery thus far, Morrigan gasped and all but retreated through the eluvian. Had it not been for Lusacan's raised fingers, which sealed it shut and dull, she truly might have stepped through.

Terrified and fascinated, Cassandra and Leliana stood. The dragon god was frowning; the goddess was not.

'Voice of the Well, Knower of Names, we greet thee as an equal,' Razikale spoke, smiling kindly.

'And I greet thee, Mystery and Contemplation, never enemies of Wisdom or…or Sorrow,' Morrigan stuttered. 'Companions of Wisdom and Sorrow,' she whispered, sustaining Razikale's glance without bowing, 'I greet thee.'

'Why hath thou not told us that the instrument of our awakening is what is left of the people?' Lusacan asked, of Cassandra.

'I did not think she was…she was not the one to awaken you,' Cassandra said, stepping up to hide Leliana from view. 'Dorian Pavus…'

'He had her aid, and she had his,' Razikale said, turning her head at an awkward, bird like angle. 'She, too, shall be greeted as an equal.'

'But we must greet her soon.' Lusacan said, clenching his teeth. 'She…'

'She's mastered her eluvian.' Morrigan said, speaking fearsome words. Lusacan nodded.

'And she has brought it to the Crossroads already.' He said.

'Solas will find her now,' Razikale spoke. 'We cannot see her,' the goddess followed. 'She's…hidden.'

'Broken from the Fade,' Lusakan said, dryly. 'Yet determined…still if alone she attempts, she might well fail, and that would be one defeat too many. Where is she, Knower of Names? Priestess of the renewed song?'

Morrigan shook her head, and Cassandra took a deep breath.

'She's on Seheron,' Divine Victoria said.

'Seheron,' Leliana chocked out. 'A week's sail.'

Razikale strolled then around Cassandra, and took Leliana's hand in hers. The Nightingale shirked from the touch but she could not resist it; when she no longer pulled away, Razikale kissed her brow, and whispered in her ear.

'A week's sail, yes. Have faith, bird of song. It might be a week's sail.'

'But only half a day's flight,' Morrigan and Lusacan said, at the same time; Morrigan managed a cheeky half grin, and turned to the eluvian once more. 'And we can buy her that, can we not?'

Lusacan chuckled, and waved his fingers once more, bringing the eluvian back to life.

'Not one, but two eluvians alight at the Crossroads,' Abelas swiftly spoke. 'Within minutes of each other. Solas.'

Solas sighed and shrugged. 'It would appear as you were right, and she did find us before we found her,' he dreamily said. 'And she plays another bait and switch – you see,' he followed turning away from his own gigantic travelling mirror, 'perhaps you were also in some way wrong. She is, perhaps no Elvhen like you, but she might be as Elvhen as I am.'

Abelas breathed out in unrestrained anger. 'You do not understand,' he growled. 'One of the eluvians came alight; the other simply appeared.'

This finally caught the Dread Wolf's attention to Abelas' satisfaction. 'Appeared?' Solas said, fully turning about in shock. 'That should be impossible – no eluvian has been created since Arlathan fell. They've merely been awoken. Not even I could casually make one!'

'And it's not only that, Dread Wolf,' Abelas followed. 'They shine from vastly different locations, they appeared at vastly different locations even within the Crossroads, yet, as all eluvians they are sealed to sight. We cannot know what lies behind either unless we pass through them.'

Solas looked away, shaking his head, and visibly slipping to deep thought. 'Let's reason through.' He said, nonetheless swallowing dry. 'The one in Minrathous we knew of. Can Veldrin truly not be the one behind it? It would be a bait and switch greater than those even I managed, but…'

'How can you still not see her, Solas?' Abelas breathed. 'The one you think is Elvhen, the one who bonded with a human of Tevinter – how can you still not see her?'

He saw fury in the Wolf's glittering blue eyes and unwillingly drew back. 'Because she's broken from the Fade, Abelas,' Solas spat. 'Do you think that though all of these years, I did not wish to see her? Do you think it was Tevinter's sky to prevent that? When it could not prevent our freeing of the people? Or do you simply think that I was so ashamed of loving her that I denied myself the only joy I could still have while waiting for the unravelling of the world?'

'You did not wish to see her with her Shem,' Abelas answered, teeth gritted.

'I wished to see her happy, no matter what the path,' Solas answered, with coolly mastered fury. 'I wished to see her dream, even if all she dreamt of was my undoing; I searched for her and could not find her, not because she fled to Minrathous, but because she fled the only realm that I truly master. I am,' he hissed, 'need I remind you, a mortal mage, and no more; I cannot find the sleeper who does not dream in the Fade, and she has not dreamt in the Fade for a very long time. Why else would I have needed mortal eyes upon her, if I had divine powers and could accomplish all?'

'I apologise,' Abelas said. 'I should not have angered you.'

'That is not what you should apologise for,' Solas replied, though it was visible his temper was not stilled. 'You only apologise to Gods for arousing their wrath. You should apologise to me, your friend, for causing willing pain, and wasting time…'

'No,' he sighed, not waiting for Abelas' acknowledgment, 'I cannot see Veldrin, because she is a powerful mage who is preventing me from doing so, and I suspect by which means. Those means are indeed of Tevinter but they were also of Elvhenan once, so I shall be the last to judge her. We have two mirrors,' he said, lowering his glance. 'I can only go through one.'

'I could go through the other,' Abelas offered. 'Enough of us are risen; we have raided the plagued Grey Shem'len. To no avail, but still, our host…'

Solas sorrowfully shook his head. 'If we do that, Abelas, then one of two things happens – you walk into the maws of Tevinter's dragons, and you alone won't best them; even if their magic has not fully returned to them, they still wield mighty forms. The other possibility is that you walk into Veldrin and her host, and you won't best them either. She chose to let you go, I swear to you. If she'd chosen a fight, she'd have won, even then, and she is much stronger now.'

The golden skinned Sentinel of Mythal pondered upon these words. 'Would the outcome be different for you, if you walked through?'

Solas shrugged. 'If either Veldrin or the dragons stand alone, yes, absolutely. The ones best left forgotten know where we are, so if they had awoken at full might they would have simply stormed…'

He gestured towards the mirror behind him, needing no further explanation.

'…while my vhenan,' he softly continued, speaking the word as if he was no longer afraid of it, 'would not storm me because, I wager, her best asset is Dorian Pavus, perhaps added to Leliana and Cassandra, perhaps, if she stooped so low, to Grand Enchanter Vivienne. All of them humans, hindered by the eluvians. Thus I would think neither side believes it is strong enough alone to face me. If they have all joined, however, there shall be…considerations.' He ended, clenching his hands behind his back.

'But, hm…' Abelas said, adjusting his voice with a light cough. 'If they have joined, what purpose is there to two mirrors? Why would they not simply come through?'

The Dread Wolf laughed, warmly and sincerely. 'Well,' he said, re-mastering himself, 'if personal, dare I say so myself, experience…teaches anything is that you do not face all your enemies at once, and even less so on their own ground. You simply do not walk up to them and have a poetic stand-off…What one does, what I did, was that I divided them, then made them come to me. Which now I cannot do, for it is finally me who has a responsibility to keep the castle gates.'

'Perhaps then we should wait, Solas.' The Sentinel thoughtfully said; Solas shook his head.

'And bring the fight here?' he asked. 'We brought tens of thousands of people here to protect them, not to subject them to a siege.'

'It is daunting, I know, but…'

Solas waved the suggestion away. 'A siege that we might well lose…I've made a lot of painful choices of this sort in the past, Abelas – I will not make this one, not this time. Besides,' he said, looking to his eluvian with an unreadable expression, 'if we wait, if we truly wait, our enemies will find each other and my considerations will have very real implications.'

The Sentinel groaned. 'So we reduce this to a coin toss? Which mirror we walk though, together, to our doom?'

Solas shrugged, thoughtfully scratching at the wolf pelt draped across his chest.

'An educated guess sounds far more optimistic. It will still be a guess,' he conceded, a second later. 'Which one would you go through, if you were me?'

Abelas fidgeted and frowned, and took a long time to answer – even then, it was not the answer Solas expected…nor one that helped their cause in any way.

'You know, I sometimes wish you were a God.' The Sentinel smirked.

'Yes, well,' Solas smirked in return, 'you know as fact that I am not. So, which mirror would you go through, if you were me?'

Abelas sighed. 'The ancient one. You yourself said it would be a grand bait and switch if your vhenan were still behind the one they have in Minrathous; you believe her capable of your feats of victory.'

'Well if Veldrin is there, she's there together with the dragons, so our chances will be greatly diminished.'

'If she is there, together with the dragons, you alone will crush unassailable Minrathous before you die. As they crushed Arlathan,' Abelas said. 'I'll go through the impossible mirror alone, too.'

'I already told you why this is a terrible plan, Abelas. If we separate and we both die, then not even the memory of our memory will survive.'

'You've also told me why the memory shall not survive regardless. Perhaps it should not. It was a flawed tale to begin with; you made the people forget, and now you seek for them to remember only in parts. If our truths are not enough...'

'True,' Solas whispered. 'I shall be to Minrathous…where will you get to? The impossible mirror shines from, where?'

'Seheron,' Abelas answered. 'The place not of our people.'

Well, well, could we approaching a bit of climax here? Sadly, not the kind of Solas/Vel I would like to see, but...Maybe there's still time? Please?

Lusacan sayeth: 'Hm.'

Thank you for reading and commenting (hint, hint!)

Cheers,

Abstract & IvI