The door shut behind him as he did his best to move his thoughts from his mind. 'Don't think about her...Don't think about her...' His hands felt clammy, his legs needed to shift as he moved forward through the house, making the corner, he turned his attention to the unconscious woman. Solas walked across the floor, sitting next to the bed of the woman whose name seemed drawn upon his lips. "Anara…" he whispered holding onto her left hand, his fingers gently stroking her palm as he closed his eyes.
'Anara' his mind sought out her magic, wading through the magic surrounding her mark. His fingers continued to caress her hand. Her skin soft to the touch, His hand wandered up her arm, feeling the magic of the mark moving. Each time he felt the Breach expand, her arm jerked, the magic was spreading further. He could feel the magic attached to her begin to flood her body, with each expansion, it seeped more and more. He could feel where the mark ended and where her magic began, just right below her elbow. Her arms were strong, and surprisingly muscular for her being a mage, it was not a common sight. Her tanned arms scared across the shoulder, he saw the scar spread out like a bolt of lightning, moving across her shoulder, to her collarbone and perhaps across her back. This scar he felt was not from a simple sword, or dagger, or even simple magic. This he felt was created by the mark, he tried to rack his brain around what type of magic could leave not only a physical mark, but a magical one as well.
His mind was confused as it tried to grasp out at answers, but nothing came to mind. He felt like it was a pointless task at this point to try and determine it. The woman next to him was unmoved by the situation that she has been thrust into. At the world that was changing around her, at the fear that began to consume the hearts and minds of people around her. But in there, she felt none of it, just the warmth and familiarity of an old lover. That was something in Solas's heart of hearts he envied, the ability to shut it all out, and live with only the light in ones mind.
But he couldn't dwell upon it for too long, the day was already at it's apex. He spent so long studying the mark that he needed to theorize more about this magic and it's link to the Breach that lit the sky.
His feet shifted on the floor, as he stood up from the seat. Looking over at Adan, messing with his potions, mumbling to himself about ingredients. Not taking any notice to the elf behind him.
"I will be going up the mountain, to study the Breach. Please keep an eye on her."
Adan muttered, waving his hand behind himself dismissing the elf. "Yes, yes. Eyes will be watched, no need to worry."
Solas paused to Adan's muttering, trying to determine if he actually heard him. He tilted his head away and moved away towards the door. He was the most capable hands in this town, and it was better than the alternative.
As Solas walked outside the door, looking to the sky he heard the all too familiar shuffling of Varric cleaning Bianca, "So, the Seeker believes she's responsible. An unarmed, unconscious woman." His arm came out to clean the aiming mechanism, giving her a quick shine.
"She's a mage Varric, she doesn't need a staff to kill anyone." His words sounded bitter, something that he was trying to avoid, but failed at. It was something that he was getting used to more and more. Perhaps it was the pressure he was under to produce results. Or perhaps it was other reasons that he couldn't quite wrap his mind around. His mind wandered into what he felt was the reasoning behind his sudden escalation in timidness. His mind wandered as did his eyes until they fell over the dwarf standing there, looking like he was trying to see through Solas, tearing away at him like wallpaper, "Is there something wrong Varric?"
"No, just trying to figure out what's your deal Chuckles." Varric's nickname seemed to emphasis Solas sour temperament, "Just trying to figure out if this change in mood is the seekers fault or.." His head turned to Adans house, "Or that person in there."
Solas turned down his head, shaking it slightly, "It has nothing to do with her, I'm almost at an impasse, and I fear I won't be able to get the results Cassandra seeks. "
Varric chuckled, "The only answers she seeks are the ones that are in her head. Leliana can tell you different, but her mind I feel is already made up Chuckles." Varric gave him a casual wave as he picked Bianca back up, slinging her over his shoulder. Regaling himself in his own tales as he walked away, making his way back to his small camp in the town.
Solas needed the time alone, the town of Haven was starting to become cramped with refugees and pilgrims. All of them trying to find some purpose, and solitude from the troubles in this world, thinking that their presence in Haven, would solidify them. His feet trekked through the pact snow, walking through the gate that led him to the mountain. The walk was cold, but it helped bring himself back down from the heavens. Helping to ground him in this world, despite all it's apparent flaws. His eyes turned back to the sky, the Breach getting closer as he kept his distance from the demons that spawned.
He struggled with the thoughts that filled his mind as he tried to study the Breach, feel it's magic, it's pull and how it was connected to the mark. He could feel it grow, expand, spread and with each surge of power that he felt, his mind wandered. Tracing it's way back to Haven and back to the warm hand that the mark seemed to occupy. His efforts felt at a waste, and as much as he wished not this fate, he began to doubt his abilities. Residing in the idea of fleeing, as his last resort if he cannot find a way to close the Breach.
His mind kept wandering through the fade, still trying to seek answers, looking for her memories again. Hoping this time not to intrude on her most private thoughts. But when he entered the fade there was no trace of her, or her memories. A panic filled his body, a feeling began to swell in his chest. Could the breach have killed her? Could the magic have spread so quickly? Will he have to flee now because of Cassandra? There were so many questions now that flooded his mind that his instincts were thrown into disarray. His feet found the compacted snow, and his breath became labored as he raced down the mountain, all thoughts of himself out the window.
The temple was no small trek from Haven, but he ran the whole way. His legs feeling strained and overused, it was the first time in awhile that he'd ran in a panic. But he felt that this wouldn't be the last time either and in that, he settled his mind. Keeping himself together, expecting panic and chaos to consume all of Haven with the death of their captive. But when the doors to Haven opened there was nothing. No change in routine, no rush for survival, no overjoyed rings of death, it was all the same from when he left it. The sun was hanging low, the pastel hues spreading across the sky, darkness slowly creeping in behind it like an unwelcome guest. Solas looked about in confusion, looking at the common rush of people going about their daily lives.
Varric stood there at his fire, looking at Solas, "Something bothering you Chuckles?" His hands reaching out to the fire, keeping himself warm.
"It's alright Varric, I thought something was amiss." Solas quickly dismissed the Dwarfs concern looking back up at the Breach. Perhaps he was too far away from her to feel her presence in the Fade? Maybe the Breach was disrupting his abilities? Maybe she had truly died to her injuries? All speculation and theories at this point. He had nothing else mentally to grasp to as he walked around the town. Leliana was at her tent, planning moves and countermoves against an unknown enemy. Preparing for the very worst for the small town.
Cassandra stood there at the training dummies, eyeing them as if they were her greatest enemies. Her mind seemed to wander past the world that was right in front of her. Since the death of Justinia, Cassandra and Leliana seemed more on edge then he figured they were. The right and the left hand of the divine, now scrambling, two limbs without a body.
Solas decided at that moment to try and avoid the previous hands of the Divine. Best not approach the two women who were lost in their grief and anger. Solas turned from the yard, deciding to take the easier route near Varric, at least with Varric he knew when to leave well enough alone.
The sky was clear and cold, the moon shining high, it's white visage desperately vying for position against the Breach. The clash of colors reminding him of his trips within the fade, feeling the thin veil and those he met there. Adans house was quiet, and he feared to enter, but there was a part of himself that reveled in the feel of her hand. The mark weighted within her, like an anchor. His steps were timid, and slow, his mind wandering through the day, what had he learned after all? Her shoulders were strong, her muscles defined, her hand warm...No, that's not what he meant, what did he learn from the breach? Their magic was similar, and they both were tied to each other. With it's expansion in the world it's magic spread within her. Perhaps killing her, which was a reality that Solas didn't want to face.
He heard a noise come from within the house. A man that didn't sound like Adan, someone more...authoritative. Without a pause, that fear that filled him to enter the house was gone, Solas was instead throwing the door wide open, the heat escaping into the cold night.
"What is this?" Solas asked, looking upon the men standing in the house, Adan standing between them and the woman.
"Ah, Solas." A voice rang out behind him, the clear accent from Ferelden. He could feel his magic being suppressed as he rounded the corner. "Just in time, I suppose. Cassandra has determined that the prisoner should be moved to the holding cell."
Solas turned, coming face to face with Commander Cullen, "She isn't even awake yet. She's been unconscious for only a day. In yet Cassandra insists that she be moved? We don't even know if she'll survive."
Solas could feel the ex-templars power suppress his own as he walked forward to the sleeping body. "What exactly have you learned from her Solas?" His eyes falling upon the sleeping face, "Do you think she is responsible?" he turned, looking Solas in the eyes.
"I do not know, but I know this. Whatever happened to her, she is connected to the Breach, and with it's expansion, she is dying." Cullen turned back around to the sleeping form on the bed.
"Hmm...so if she is responsible, then she has the worst kind of luck. If she isn't well, not much change in luck there." Cullen strode across the room, coming into distance with Solas, "I will give you a few more days, if she wakes up or she doesn't. She will be taken to the holding cells." With that Cullen turned to his men gesturing them to leave. As the house cleared out, he turned back to Solas, "I wish you the best of luck Solas, I really do. But this decision, isn't yours to make."
Solas cringed at the idea that this decision wasn't his to make, and unfortunately had to find a way to accept it. "I understand Commander." The last word, Commander rolled off his tongue like he was spitting venom. His ability to suppress magic was making Solas short tempered.
Cullen have a nod and finally left for the door, turning back to the still body before he shut the door behind him.
"What was that about?" Solas asked Adan who finally moved away from the bed, making his way to his journal his fingers clasping a quill.
" Commander Cullen was following orders from Seeker Pentaghast. She thinks that the patient is well enough to be moved to the holding cells. I tried to tell him that she hasn't even awoken yet. But again, the decision came from Seeker Pentaghast. It will soon be out of our hands Solas. We only have a few more days, if we're lucky."
Solas looked down, his feet shuffling as he tried to think. Cassandra was getting impatient, he felt wise in the fact that he left her alone, lest he get her ire as well. Solas finished his distance, taking a seat next to the bed. "So we're no longer in control of the situation?" He didn't know why he was asking, it was obvious by the presence of Cullen. But it only seemed to remind him of the situation that he was in, and the results he had to produce.
The night wore long as he tried again to feel the magic through her mark. Still sensing it's growth, ensuring his best to keep her alive for another night, before leaving her in the capable hands of Adan.
His back pressed against the door as it closed shut, solace finally after such a day. He hoped tonight that being so close to her, he can find her memories again, something more pleasant than the day that he had endured. His eyes struggled to stay open once he touched his bed, finally slipping into the cool relief of the Fade.
He listened to the shouts and screams of the dreams, people still fearing what they didn't know. Same fears, same anger, same hate for the same things, the same dreams seemed to exhaust Solas, there surely was more in life for these people then this? But there was no proof of it anywhere within the fade, despite how infinite it can be.
He shut his eyes, seeking the familiarity of her dreams, her memories. The warmth that he felt like the fleeting kiss of a lover, and that feeling he wished to feel more of.
The fade was foggy, corrupted by the Breaches expansion. but he focused, his mind drawing in his magic, still searching. Reaching out to her memories like tendrils, grasping for something tangible. He heard shouting in his ears, an angered cry from a man, the cursing and shouting continuing. This wasn't the warmth he was expecting, but when the image came to, the Anara he saw yesterday was different.
Her brown eyes filled with rage, her youthful face bruised across her cheek, her bottom lip bleeding. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and anger, as he looked at the person that earned this gaze. He was older man, short, stocky,bald with scruff all over his face. He had a scar across his face that made him look grotesque, unhuman almost. But judging by his fighting stance, and how he silenced all magic in the room, Solas could easily tell it was a Templar.
" You cannot miss your Harrowing little Trevelyan." He shouted, running towards her, his arms open in an attempt to grab her.
Her body ducked under his clumsy run as she kicked him in the back, sending him reeling forward into the bookshelf. "I would rather be Tranquil!" She spat back trying to summon any magic from her body, the older man laughed turning from the shelf.
"You can try all you like little rabbit, but in the end, you WILL go to the harrowing. If I have to drag you there myself, by the maker I will." The doors opened as the Knight-Commander walked in, a slew of Templars following behind him.
"Dengar, by Andraste get this situation handled!" The Knight-Commander was tall, towering over the other Templar as he tried to corral the mage.
The scruffed old man smirked, "Oh rabbit you're in for it now. Knight-Commander doesn't want you to miss your harrowing. So be a good little lass and just follow suit. You'd hate for an accident to happen."
She was disheveled, her hair was untangled from her braid, her robe ripped, frayed around her legs as she looked prepared to cast a spell. Cheeks were flushed, her breathing ragged and her arms flexed in preparation. Her anger and her pride taking over, threatening to kill her and drown the circle in it's wake. She was a Trevelyan, of Ostwick, from a noble house, a house though that was more devoted to the Chantry than blood. She watched the Knight-Commander stand there, hand on his blade, prepared to have to slay the little beast that she was.
Her eyes scanned the Templars among the Knight-Commander. Each with their hand on their blade prepared for the very worst. She hated them, every single one of them, but in all she hated the Knight-Commander the most. He spoke up again, "The harrowing is necessary Anara, you don't want to be made tranquil do you?"
She gritted her teeth, knowing full well all these Templars had suppressed her powers beyond recognition. She was helpless, and fearful, her heart beating a million miles a minute, just like a rabbit. She straightened her posture, holding her head high, her pride and arrogance shining through.
"Then show me to your Harrowing Knight-Commander." She spoke, her voice thick with venom, "I do not fear your trials." She strode forward, the Knight-Commander standing well over a foot taller than her.
His fingers reached out, tilting her chin up to look into his eyes, "Come. Rabbit." He turned his back to her, the Templars clearing a path for him as they stood there, watching her.
Anara's feet moved, stepping forward, she was holding what pride she had left close to her chest. Unknowing of what was to follow her in her Harrowing.