Liminality
Chapter 5: The Painted Atrium
Jolina remembered little more from the game than visual snapshots, memorable snippets of conversation, and big revelations. Still, she did remember the beautiful murals that Solas had gradually completed in the round atrium, and found the pixelated version could hardly do the paintings justice. They were larger, more vibrant in color, and there were more in number. As someone who had dabbled with paint with varying degrees of success, Jo could appreciate the mastery needed to create such images.
If she hadn't felt like a prisoner trudging to their execution, she might have said something. As it was, she was too consumed by a frightened and confused sense of apprehension. Cole helped. She briefly considered letting go, thinking that all of her feelings might be hurting him, but he just grasped her hand tighter. It was no small saving grace at this moment, to have such an ally in this place. She wondered how she would be able to pay him back.
Solas walked up to his chair and moved it so the back was facing the closest mural. "Sit," he stated, his voice still containing that hint of steel. Jo sat.
"This is what we are going to do. I am going to ask you questions, and you are going to answer. You, not Cole. Cole, let her answer."
Cole frowned at Solas, and Varric felt the need to add, "Now Solas, I think you might be taking this a little too far…"
"Varric," Solas made his name sound like a warning. Jo wondered if this demonstration was brought on by the Fen'Harel part of the man. Was there a difference? Was Solas the type of man that was able to compartmentalize these kind of emotions, or was his frustration with her letting his true self come out to play? Cole looked at her curiously, obviously aware of her thought process.
"Can you perform magic?" His gaze was intense, and his tone sardonic.
"Kind of?" Jo answered. Obviously, that demonstration in the war room established that she was capable. But she had little to no training, and even less faith. It was hard to trust something that she had been brought up to believe impossible. There was no intuitive reception. She felt the struggle.
"Do you consider yourself a mage?" Solas asked, and Jo felt herself relax a fraction. The elven man had obviously paid attention to what Cole had alluded to, and was responding accordingly. So perhaps this conversation would not be as unreasonable as the last one?
"No. I am not very capable. And I have no idea how that barrier formed in front of Cole," Jo responded quietly, but steady, although all three men could see her hand shake with trepidation.
"Did you have magic prior to entering the Fade?" His mouth was terse when he asked this, and Jo could tell this was a serious point of contention for him.
"No," Jo answered honestly, although she knew it would have been easier to lie.
Solas looked upset and dissatisfied. "Is there something that happened coming into the Fade that could have prompted a change?"
"Maybe? I entered a rift, although I don't see how that would automatically entail magical abilities. After all, Ariya is hardly a mage." Jo was curious too, and following this line of thinking in this way helped her to overcome some of the fear and apprehension. Because she was afraid. How in the world could she have adopted these traits?
"Where did you enter the Rift?" Solas was frowning.
"In some ruins I was studying. It was in the middle of the complex." Jo squeezed Cole's hand nervously. Was this the point in time where she admitted to being from another world? What would they think of her?
"Which ruins, exactly?"
"The Caracol Mayan Ruins in Belize."
Solas' disgruntled frown turned into a disbelieving sneer. "I have never heard of such a place."
"That is because it is not in Thedas."
Solas looked surprised, as if he had never considered such a thing. "You come from outside of Thedas?"
Comforted by the feel and pressure of Cole's hand in her own, Jo attempted to draw strength from it as she responded. "Yes. I come from a different world altogether."
Solas looked as if he was processing this, and orated his thoughts as if considering its merit. "So this rift acted not as a disconnect between Thedas and the Fade, but as a bridge between worlds? Was there magic in your world?"
Jo thought uncomfortably of all of the stories of magic that existed, and considered whether or not it might have existed in some form at some time. Still, she didn't want to give him suppositions. "No. Only in stories."
Solas looked disturbed at the thought. "No magic?" Jo turned curiously to peer at Varric, who had been silent this whole time, but he was gazing at her in discomforted disbelief. Jo frowned and felt guilty for the fear and worry radiating from his being, but was distracted when Cole squeezed her hand again. It brought her outside of her despair, and forced her attention back on Solas. She squeezed back, hoping he could feel her gratitude.
Solas looked almost excited as he considered his situation. "Or perhaps there is simply something present that suppresses it? Something similar to the Veil, but more powerful? So your entry into the Fade acted more like a catalyst energizing a latent ability, rather than a more fundamental change to your person?"
Jo considered that it might be possible. Although she had little knowledge about how such a thing could occur, so she knew anything they came up with was nothing more than conjecture. Although there was one hole to this theory that Jo could not stop herself from bringing up. "If magic is suppressed in my world, then why was there a Rift present? Wouldn't a stronger Veil make this kind of disturbance improbable?"
Solas gave her that slightly surprised nod of approval that he had given in the Fade. "That idea holds some merit, although I imagine that there are places and times in which the Veil is thinner, as it is in our world. Perhaps those ruins could even be a testament to the presence of magic long forgotten."
"It's possible," Jo admitted, "although I do not know nearly enough about this to consider anything outside of hypotheticals."
"What did you feel when you came across the Rift?" Solas asked, his focus on her rather unnerving.
"It called to me. Almost like a song. Whispers and then voices, their feelings coming out in the tone and intensity." She shivered, just remembering what it had been like to stare into the green hole. The sound. The pull.
Solas nodded. "That could be evidence of a magical ability already present before you entered the Fade. Unless you hear the same thing would you come close to a Rift, Master Tethras?"
The dwarf was still staring at her uneasily. "No, nothing like that."
Solas seemed to nod to himself, before he noticeably paused and then gazed at her with narrowed eyes.
"She is not lying," Cole spoke up from beside her. Jo couldn't blame him for having doubts. He was obviously a very intelligent man; she might have thought less of him if he had accepted everything she had to say at face-value.
Solas raised one eyebrow at the blonde rogue, before stepping closer to take her backpack. Jo pulled it against her chest defensively and glared. She could accept the need to be interrogated, but that did not mean they needed to go through her personal belongings. What few earthly possessions she still had left.
Solas' eyes once again became steel at her refusal. "Something to hide?" He sounded like Leliana.
Jo frowned. "No. But does my situation merit the need to violate what little agency I still have? Do I not deserve even a modicum of privacy?"
Solas seemed taken aback, as if confused that his actions could be taken that way. "Ir abelas. I did not realize." He then sighed, and leaned back against his desk with his arms crossed.
There was silence for a few seconds, everyone's brows deep with consideration, before Jo felt the need to ask a question. "How, exactly, should I help the Inquisition?"
Solas pursed his lips in thought. "What were you doing before you entered the Fade?"
"I was a student. Studying to become an Anthropologist."
The elven apostate tilted his head curiously at the unfamiliar term. "Anthropologist?"
"An anthropologist is a professional who studies people. A socio-cultural anthropologist might look at differing cultural traditions and habits between communities. A biological anthropologist is interested in the evolution of man, of how the biology of our bodies has changed over time. A linguistic anthropologist is concerned with the evolution of language, both in terms of changes in meaning and physical expression. And an archaeologist is an anthropologist that studies the past, who goes into ruins and attempts to understand ancient civilizations with the hopes of edifying their struggles and increasing their relevance, so the general understanding of history and the world is improved as a whole. Of course there is some merging that occurs; one of my professors was a paleo-pathologist, who found ancient skeletons and investigated the remains for signs of disease. It oftentimes manifested on the skeleton in some way, and helps us to gain a better understanding of the prevalence of certain diseases, their possible cultural relevance at the time, and the relationship between disease and human evolution." Jo said this all rather breathlessly, and with growing enthusiasm. She loved Anthropology. It was holistic and malleable and relevant and fascinating…
Solas seemed amused. "So you are a scholar?"
Jo was brought back to herself, and wrinkled her nose as she thought about it. "I suppose. Although in my culture that is an esteemed term. And I am still a student."
Solas smiled wryly. "Such modesty. How long have you been studying?"
"Over my entire education?" Jo clarified. Solas nodded. "Almost my entire life. Sixteen years? I started when I was five."
Solas looked taken aback, but fascinated. "Does everyone in your culture study for this long?"
Jo nodded. "Just about. There is compulsory education mandated until you are sixteen, so that guarantees at least eleven years, but just about everyone finishes after at least thirteen."
"What about your warriors? I doubt your society could survive only containing scholars."
Jo smirked. "Yes, we have a military, although individuals are only recruited after they are eighteen. This education style was thought to be necessary in order to promote the country's political ideologies, which operated as a Representative Democracy. Our founding principles were in freedom, equity, and the potential for social mobility. And in order to improve a higher standard of living and cultivate ingenuity and innovation, we needed a baseline. So every generation became literate and was taught the knowledge of our forbearers so that we would be better equipped to make improvements and further our study."
Jo shrugged before she continued. "Of course, this was also a useful way for the state to indoctrinate its citizens with specific information that would promote feelings of nationalism and unity. History retold from a certain perspective that omitted some of the more unsavory truths."
Solas' eyes were bright with interest. "Fascinating. And what would make someone a scholar?"
Jo's lips quirked as she thought about it. "A lifetime of study. A certain mastery of their subject. And the pursuit of knowledge, the need to research and learn more. At least 25 years?"
"Hm," Solas hummed, considering… something. Jo had no idea what.
Varric spoke up, and Jo was glad to see he didn't look as disturbed. "Can you fight?"
Jo nodded, feeling a little more confident with this skill set. "Valor taught me in the Fade."
Varric frowned. "How many spirits did you meet?" He seemed uncomfortable, which Jo guessed was due to his previous personal experience with Anders.
"Wisdom. Valor. Faith. Hope. Justice. Pity I didn't meet Purpose." Jo wondered what change that might have wrought. Would she be less confused, less apprehensive about her situation if she had a definable purpose? She wanted to help people with everything in her, but even she could admit that her efforts in the Fade had been rather lackluster compared to her spirit friends. And there were so many ways to help, it seemed too vague a purpose to give her the motivation she needed to push out of the dissociation and depression.
"Huh," was Varric's ineloquent reply, and Jo thought he looked a bit queasy.
"She should practice her skills. Find ways to help," Cole mentioned from her side.
The other two men nodded. Jo bit her split lip nervously as they plotted out a training regimen.
"Can you use a sword?" Varric paused their conversation to ask. She nodded, and then Solas and Varric planned a time for her to meet Blackwall in order to get some instruction, and to evaluate where she stood. Then she was to meet Varric for the same purpose, only with a bow. And then she was to meet Solas to see if he could help her become more in-tune with her magic. They turned to Cole.
"Well, kid? Did you want to help her with daggers? We need to see what kind of fighter she is going to be if we decide we want to bring her out into the field with us."
Cole nodded. "I will help."
Jo sighed, once again feeling a sense of nervous anticipation (or was it really dread?) bubble in her chest.
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age. 'Tis a pity.