A/N: Solas drops some more backstory here, and it's sad. Which is appropriate because this has been a rather puny day for me. Also, just as a sort of note on story progression, we've now left Trespasser in the dust and moved onto Elven Revolution! Huzzah!

Fourteen

A True Story of Fen'Harel

Inquisition mages and soldiers continued appearing through the mirror, making it pulsate and thrum each time. Soon nearly ten people had gathered on the narrow spit of rock, forcing Dorian to edge forward though he seemed unwilling to join Solas and Ellana on the Halamshiral island, as if the stone they stood on might burn him. Among the Inquisition forces emerging through the eluvian Ellana also saw Varric and Iron Bull. The dwarf and the tal-vashoth warrior both stared at Ellana and Solas with baffled expressions.

"I will reopen the eluvian to allow you through," Solas told Dorian and the others, his posture stiffening and his hands tucked behind his back. "But I will require any magical artifacts you collected from the Qunari base before I allow you passage."

Dorian scoffed, still snarling. "You despicable bald spellbind. You're setting up a toll?"

"Merely safeguarding the Inquisition from potentially dangerous items," Solas answered, a sharp note of irritation underlying the words. His eyes narrowed. "However, as most of the artifacts will be of elven origin, they are mine to reclaim."

"Is that so?" Dorian grumbled sarcastically. He crossed his arms over his chest. "And if I refuse?"

"Dorian," Ellana interjected, trying to defuse the growing animosity between the two mages. "I'm sure we can come to a compromise. Solas and I would like to know what you found at the Qunari base. We…" She shot Solas an uncertain look, searching his reaction and finding only a stony somberness on his face. "…may have need of what you've found."

"For what purpose, exactly?" Dorian asked, arching an eyebrow. "And it seems to me I just fought through a legion of horned Qunari bastards in the name of the Inquisition—only to find myself waylaid by you two. As if you're not Inquisition." Motioning toward Ellana, he added, "As if you are not the Inquisitor." He let out a high-pitched, humorless laugh. "I always knew you southerners were insane, but if this is some kind of joke it's not very funny."

"Our purpose is not your concern," Solas told him. "But the Qunari took artifacts from Elvhenan using the eluvians. They are elven and therefore belong to our people, not the Inquisition. If you have found any, I will require them."

"I'll ask again," Dorian snarled. "Will you leave us to starve or fall off into the void if we refuse?"

"No," Ellana answered before Solas could. She kept her shoulders squared and her back straight, hoping she radiated authority. Solas wouldn't abandon them in the Crossroads—would he? No, of course not, she thought.

"No," Solas agreed with a nod in her direction, yielding to her. Ellana could feel the but hanging in the air, yet Solas didn't give it voice. She guessed he would use spies within the Inquisition to get the artifacts regardless of what happened here.

Instead of answering Solas' edict, Dorian just glared at him. "What's going on here? The last I heard Cassandra sent Templar thugs after you." His gaze flicked between Ellana and Solas, his features twisting with both suspicion and worry. "Inquisitor?" he asked.

"Wait," Varric said, "Cassandra sent Templars after you, Chuckles?" He shook his head, scowling. "Well, shit. Sparkler, you'd run too if her holiness decided you needed an interrogation. I'd know, remember? I've had that dubious pleasure. You know, she won't hesitate to stab you where it hurts."

"They threatened to make him join a Circle," Ellana said, her voice quavering with anger.

Varric's eyebrows rose and he whistled. "Did you spring him out, Inquisitor?"

"She did not," Solas answered immediately, his tone hard and authoritative. "And we are not here to discuss it."

"Touchy subject, Chuckles," Varric said, raising his hands palms up in a motion of surrender. "Sorry I asked."

"Ellana," Dorian said, brow furrowing and eyes narrowed and dark with a mixture of concern and rage. "Has he forced you to come here? Are you under some kind of—"

Solas made a noise reminiscent of a gag in his throat, cutting him off. "Do not be ridiculous."

"Let her speak," Iron Bull shouted, baring his teeth in a snarl that matched Dorian's. The other Inquisition men and women stared at Ellana, tense and ready to attack Solas to protect her.

Speechless for several moments, Ellana found it difficult to breathe in the oppressive and hostile exchange. Shutting her eyes, she forced herself to speak. "I appreciate your concern, but you're being ridiculous as Solas said. Of course I am here willingly."

Despite her words they didn't appear terribly convinced and Ellana felt her shoulders slump with exhaustion. How could they have grown so fearful and distrusting of Solas in so short a time? Where had it all gone wrong?

"Really," she said, making a shrug-like motion with both arms. "What else can I say to prove it to you?"

"Step away from him for a moment and come speak with me," Dorian suggested, throwing Solas a quick glare.

"Of course," Ellana said, shrugging again. She backed away from the spit of rock, leaving room for Dorian to edge past her. Ignoring Solas' frown and tenseness, she let Dorian take her gently by the elbow and walk toward the other rock bridge that led to the next nearest island.

Behind them Solas stalked to the Halamshiral eluvian and Ellana felt her skin prickle when he reactivated it, despite being several meters away. She shivered and Dorian stopped short, his gaze darting over her with concern.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice tender yet tight.

"Yes," she answered with a nod. "A little nauseous but that seems to be the norm now." She smiled at the attempted joke but let it fall from her lips when Dorian's expression of concern only deepened.

"I'm sorry I didn't give you more advance warning about Cassandra's plans," Dorian said, the sadness in his eyes tearing at her. "I didn't realize they would act so quickly. They did kick me out, after all." He smiled wanly. "But I understand now why they did it." He leaned closer, his breath brushing over her cheeks as he said, "He's using us, Ellana. That blighted Qunari base had more magical artifacts than the Fade has spirits."

She snorted, smirking. "Somehow I doubt that, Dorian."

He rolled his eyes, smiling with real humor now. "Oh, all right. Fine. The Fade has a few more spirits. Regardless, I'm sure you recall how deeply your beloved elven apostate cared about that foci of Corypheus', yes? He practically wanted to give that shattered orb funeral services."

Biting back the laughter bubbling in her throat, Ellana nodded. "I remember, yes. Did you find more?"

Dorian started to answer and then stopped, staring at her obliquely for a beat before shaking his head. "You already know his game, whatever it is."

She hesitated a second, glancing over her shoulder to where Solas was talking stiltedly with Varric and the Iron Bull as they began to march Inquisition soldiers through the eluvian. When she faced Dorian again his expression was nearly unreadable, though she guessed he was troubled and yet also curious. Licking her lips, she confessed, "I do know it, yes."

"Or you think you do," Dorian supplied, arching a brow. "You understand that if he's not merely Solas but is in fact something else he could betray you, yes?"

Ellana shook her head, dismissing his concerns with a wave of her hand. "Solas won't betray me."

Dorian sighed, staring at her with sad eyes. "I hope you're right, Ellana. I really do." Reaching out, he gripped her by the shoulders, his grip gentle as he gave her a squeeze. "You're not coming back to the winter palace or to Skyhold, are you?"

Suddenly Ellana's throat burned, tight with emotion. She swallowed. "I don't think so, no." She took a small breath in, steadying herself. "Solas needs me, and I need him. We're going to make the world a better place for…" When she saw his gaze drop to her abdomen she realized she'd laid her left hand over her navel and let it fall back to her side, feeling her cheeks heat up with a blush.

Dorian's expression turned somber, his lips pinching and his brow furrowing. "Ellana, if you're feeling trapped because you don't want your child to be fatherless…" His hands tightened slightly on her shoulders. "I could take you in. I've weathered worse scandals and I doubt anyone would believe it could be my child anyway, even if it is a mage those ears will just—"

Ellana burst out laughing, shaking her head. "That's very sweet of you, Dorian, but Solas would probably leap into the void before he'd let you take me to Tevinter."

"It's not what he wants, Ellana. It's about your happiness. Your safety," Dorian said emphatically, enunciating every word. "Just remember that whatever happens I will always be there for you—you have only to call." He patted the leather strap just peaking out over the neckline of his clothes and Ellana knew he meant the magic crystal that he'd given her at the start of the Exalted Council to ensure they could communicate even when a continent separated them.

Smiling with the warm affection brimming inside her own chest, Ellana tapped the pouch on her waist where she kept her own crystal. "Thank you, Dorian."

"Just don't start crying," he admonished, flashing a quick grin as he grabbed her in an embrace. "Or else you'll get me going, old girl."

She laughed again, though it emerged thick with emotion. "Too late," she said as they parted.

Wiping at her tears, she walked with him back to the eluvian and the others. Solas waited beside the active mirror, hands behind his back, jaw and shoulders squared. The Inquisition mages and soldiers had gone through the mirror by now, leaving Iron Bull and Varric waiting for Dorian with uncertain looks on their faces. Ellana didn't miss the somewhat wary gaze Solas sent her way.

"So, Boss," Iron Bull said, smiling closed-lipped at her. "Is this goodbye?"

She nodded. "For now, Bull."

The horned warrior grunted, grimacing. "Well then, it'd been a pleasure, as always." Turning his head to Solas, he said, "I don't know who or what you really are, Solas, but take care of yourself—and the Boss. Or the next time I see you I'll put one of my horns through your gut."

Solas frowned slightly but dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Meravas. Panahedan."

Iron Bull froze, his single blue eye widening. "You speak Qunlat?"

"Marginally," Solas said, but Ellana doubted that was the case. Solas never did anything marginally. Besides, Ellana had been there when Solas translated spoken Qunlat in the Deep Roads.

"As if I needed another reason not to like you," Dorian grumbled at Solas and then quickly said to Iron Bull, "No offense."

"Some taken," Iron Bull shot back, but he grinned. "We'll work it out tonight."

"Way more than I needed to hear," Varric said, wincing as he strode to the mirror, pausing to look up at Ellana and smile, a touch of something like sadness in his eyes. "It's been a pleasure, Lady Lavellan. I hope someday I'll get to see you at your estate in Kirkwall." He motioned toward Solas. "Chuckles can come too, since someone will need to watch the baby while we're playing Wicked Grace." He raised one meaty hand, finger up. "Oh, and that reminds me. One of you has to write to me when the kid is born. I've got twenty royals riding on it being a boy."

Solas scowled. "Absolutely not."

Varric chuckled and waved a hand dismissively at Solas. "Suit yourself, Chuckles. I'll still find out eventually. And I always win." He grinned at Ellana, winking. "You'll write to me, won't you Inquisitor?"

Ellana laughed. "Of course, Varric."

"Good," the dwarf said, nodding with satisfaction. "My work is finished here." He strode through the mirror, making it thrum.

With a last glance at both Ellana and Solas, Iron Bull entered the mirror next. Dorian lingered a moment longer, clearly reluctant to leave. In front of the eluvian he turned and met Ellana's gaze over one shoulder and said, "You'll remember my offer, won't you? It isn't ever going to change. I know the Imperium's not ideal for elves but—"

"What?" Solas blurted, his mouth twisting with displeasure.

"I'll remember, Dorian," Ellana said, smiling. "But Solas will keep me safe." She deliberately stepped to stand at Solas' side in solidarity.

Solas blinked at her once, and then his jaw clenched with something akin to determination—with a touch of annoyance. "Of course, vhenan."

"Then I suppose this is goodbye, Ellana." His smile brimmed with melancholy. "For now, at least." He stepped into the fluid-like glass of the eluvian and it swallowed him, thrumming and glowing a brighter blue.

Solas stepped in front of the glass and thrust his palm to it, sending a blue glow of magic from his hand to the glass. Feeling her skin prickle at it, Ellana wrapped her arms over herself and shuddered. A moment later the glass went dark, leaving them alone with nothing but the groan of the Crossroads and the constant pattering of the waterfall nearby.

"What did you tell him?" Solas asked, staring at the dark eluvian.

"Nothing," Ellana answered. "Only that I know your plans and I trust you."

He nodded, sighing. "It should not have happened this way. I did not mean to place you in danger or to make you an enemy of the inquisition, the Templars, the Chantry—any of them." He shook his head, still staring down at the black rock underfoot. "It was inevitable that I should become their enemy." He closed his eyes. "But I had thought to leave you behind, to part ways before…"

Ellana stayed silent, watching him and waiting, unsure what to say. Her stomach flip-flopped with anxiety and a lump had grown in her throat. Swallowing did nothing to clear it though she kept trying.

Solas drew in a shuddering breath, still not looking at her. "You should know, vhenan. There is still much I have not revealed to you of my plans."

"I guessed as much, emma lath." The smile on her lips trembled, as if her muscles were too weak to keep it up. "But you don't need to hide anything from me. I thought you'd have realized that by now."

"I do not reveal everything to anyone," he said, his voice dry and brittle. "It is the only way to ensure survival of the network and of myself. I have been harellan for so long it has become part of my blood."

"You know you can trust me," Ellana insisted, frowning with confusion.

Solas raised his head now and turned to look at her, his eyes somber and dark with grief. "I know, vhenan. It is not that I do not trust you." He averted his eyes again, shame coloring his face. "I do not trust myself."

Ellana strode to his side, reaching for his face and turning him to look at her. But Solas kept his eyes closed and Ellana felt his body tense under her hands. "Solas?" she asked.

"You asked for a true story of Fen'Harel earlier," he murmured, his lips trembling. "The truest one I know is that Fen'Harel brings death to those closest to him."

"Do you mean Mythal?" Ellana asked quietly.

Sighing, he leaned his forehead against hers. "Yes."

"Abelas said the Dread Wolf didn't kill her."

"My actions did," Solas muttered, his words thick with pain. "My rebellion made the other Evanuris turn on her for allying with me." He pulled away from her, finally opening his eyes and meeting her stare with misery. "But it was not just Mythal who paid for my actions. The very slaves I freed and encouraged to rebel rose up at the harvest one year and destroyed my village, killing my parents."

Ellana felt her eyes burn, her heart ache with sympathy even as she shook her head, uncomprehending. "But why would they—"

He made a small noise in his throat, a sort of choking sound. "They did not know, vhenan. They struck at Elgar'nan's crops and followers without knowing that the middle-class families they killed were my loved ones. And how could they know? I told no one of my origins. The fault was mine. I thought to protect them from the Evanuris, so I kept my background a secret. They could have run when the rebellion took the crop fields, fled to the library, but they remained and tried to reason with the rebels."

He stepped away from her, scrubbing his face with one hand and clenching his teeth. "They did not understand the rage of the lower classes. They believed themselves innocent, that violence would not touch them if they refused to fight." He laughed, bitterly. It sounded closer to a sob as he turned his back to her.

Pain twisted through her heart, cutting like a hot blade. She whispered, "Have you alone carried the guilt of what happened to your family all this time?"

"Yes," he murmured. "I had to proclaim the raid and the deaths a victory when I heard of it." As he glanced over his shoulder at her the sight of tears in his eyes seemed to rob her of breath. His smile was bitter. "Who would follow a man if they learned he made such a foolish mistake? Everyone wanted to believe I sprang from the wilds, that I was born to wolves or to slaves. It was easy to let them believe whatever they liked. Anything but the truth."

To be the first person he had shared this horrible, tragic story with made Ellana feel dizzy. The words she wanted to say seemed caught in her throat, inadequate and useless. She could not imagine how excruciating it must have been for him. When she blinked she realized she'd started crying and sniffed. "Solas, I'm so sorry…"

"You are blameless, vhenan. I do not deserve your tears." He brushed his own tears away, evading her gaze and sighing. "I tell you this because you must know I am fallible. You must be vigilant. I cannot foresee the effects my plans will have, but I could not bear to lose you as well."

"You won't," Ellana vowed, reaching for him again. She wound her arms around his waist, pulling him tight to her and sighing as he returned her embrace and rested his cheek against the top of her head. "I love you, Solas, no matter the danger. Let me help you. Let me guide you." She broke off, laughing at the absurdity of her comment. "Though I'm hardly qualified to guide one of the Evanuris."

"Do not devalue yourself, emma lath. You have led the Inquisition for over three years. You know the burden of making decisions that will affect thousands of lives. You are a far better advisor than most of my arcane warriors ever were." His finger stroked the back of her neck, gentle and loving. "Although I fear what must come and I would have preferred we left the Exalted Council peaceably, I could never regret choosing to stay with you."

Two fingers lifted her chin and Ellana shifted to meet his lips with her own for a long, tender kiss. Ellana clung to him tighter and when the kiss ended they held each other for several minutes, just listening to the sound of the other's breathing. Finally Solas said, "We should make our way to my people."

Ellana watched as he knelt and began stuffing the magic objects the Inquisition forces had relinquished into his pack. She saw totems to the Evanuris: a halla figurine, a sculpture of an owl, and a dagger with a handle fashioned into the half-dragon, half-woman shape of Mythal. "They must have found more than that," Ellana murmured.

"They did," Solas confirmed as he finished loading the totems and closed his pack, standing up. "But that they relinquished anything to me is a measure of their profound respect for you, vhenan." He smiled, though Ellana saw the sadness in it and knew they both couldn't help but think that they'd lost that respect with the earlier events of the day.

Pushing aside those thoughts, Ellana strode closer to him and took his hand, squeezing it in hers. "Let's not dwell on what's been lost. We have a world to restore."

He smiled, tender and gentle. "You are right, vhenan, as always."

Ellana motioned out into the endless sunset light of the Crossroads. "Lead the way, emma lath."

After a half-hour walk across the Crossroads Solas brought Ellana to an inactive eluvian on a small island of black rock. The journey had been roundabout, requiring them to cross dozens of rock bridges that Solas cast or switched on using the magic-storing orbs at the edges of the islands. If Ellana had been a mage and able to Fade step Solas could've halved their travel time, but he cherished the idle time for the opportunity it presented for him to think.

They didn't encounter any of his people or Qunari on the journey and Solas hadn't expected to. He'd ordered Abelas and his arcane warriors to operate covertly, watching the Inquisition from a distance for nighttime activity in the Crossroads, expecting that he'd be there to witness anything they did during the day. Now the groaning song of the crossroads seemed hollow and lonely as they walked, likely the only living sentient beings within the construct.

At the dark eluvian that lead to Hellathen Hamin, Solas activated it with a quick flourish of magic from his right palm. Then, as the mirror thrummed and glowed, he told Ellana, "Follow behind me. They will not be expecting me and the eluvian is under watch on the other side."

Her eyebrows rose with surprise. "Will they attack you without being sure who you are?"

"Doubtful," Solas replied. "But I will take no chances."

Facing the eluvian, he stretched out his right hand and strode through it, shivering reflexively as the chilled magic of the mirror caressed him. Emerging out the other side he saw the familiar pale stone crumbling on either side of him. The sunlight here was pink-red, fading fast with twilight, but he still saw the silhouettes of the Elvhen warriors crouched on the walls of the ruins a few meters ahead. He felt their tension and their magic surge for a moment as they reacted to a person appearing through what had been a dark eluvian moments ago, and then they called out greetings in recognition.

As one figure leapt down from the wall, her armor glinting in the setting sun, Solas smiled as he recognized Lyris. Mathrel, her constant companion, remained on the wall, watchful as the eluvian thrummed behind Solas. Ellana stepped through and Solas turned slightly to check on her, ensuring the Anchor had not flared to life. The fingers of her left hand opened and closed, but otherwise he saw no sign of distress yet.

Lyris' steps thumped over the grass and dirt as she jogged to them. Her gaze swept over both of them as she ducked into a little bow. "Hahren," she greeted him with respect, caution in her eyes when she looked to Ellana. "You have returned. We did not expect you."

"Ir abelas," Solas apologized with a nod. "I did not expect to join you so quickly."

"What's happened?" she asked, immediately somber.

"I will explain in a moment, but first…" Solas sidestepped and motioned at Ellana. "May I introduce Inquisitor Lavellan." He quashed the frown that tried to steal over his lips as he realized he'd introduced her as inquisitor despite the events of earlier that'd probably left the humans considering her a traitor to her own cause. Ellana, for her part, showed nothing but her usual grace as she smiled and gave Lyris a little bow.

"A pleasure to meet you…"

"Lyris," she said, supplying her name and grinning. Her blue eyes slid to Solas, a knowing look glinting in them. "I've heard a great deal about you, Inquisitor."

Ellana chuckled, sounding nervous. "All good things, I hope."

"Lyris," Solas scolded her, frowning. "There is work to be done. I have important news. Where is Abelas?"

A thump ahead drew Solas' gaze to where Mathrel had leapt from the wall and landed with a heavy grunt. "Hunting," he answered for Lyris as he walked toward them, his armor glinting in the pinkish dusk light. Standing beside Lyris, he bowed. "Hahren, welcome. Inquisitor, I am Mathrel, bondmate and combat partner to Lyris."

"Pleased to meet you," Ellana replied. "You can both call me Ellana. I don't believe I will still be the Inquisitor after what happened today."

Lyris made a face, reading Ellana's sadness. "Ir abelas, lethallan. You will always be welcome among us as one of the People."

"Thank you," Ellana replied, her voice thick with emotion. She cleared her throat. "Is there a source of water nearby? Do you have any tea?"

"Take us to camp," Solas ordered Lyris before she could answer, then looked to Mathrel. "Deactivate the eluvian and keep watch. We were not followed, but I will not risk it."

Both arcane warriors nodded, murmuring under their breath and springing into action. Mathrel jogged past them to the mirror while Lyris did an about-face and led them through the tangled, overgrown summer grasses. She wove through the crumbling ruins, scaling a few broken walls where archways had collapsed. Solas took up a position behind Ellana, watching over her as they splashed through puddles and squelched mud between their toes.

Finally they came to a ruined courtyard, overgrown with trees and bushes, some of which had been hacked down by Solas' group in recent days. Brown tents had been set up in circles around two fires. A pair of Dread Wolf statues watched the campsite from a rundown staircase on one side while on the other a proud white stone stag towered over the tents.

As they neared Ellana fell to walking at Solas' side and asked, "What was this place?"

"An outpost my forces claimed from Andruil. We called it Hellathen Hamin," he explained.

Lyris led them to the far campfire where a pot of water sat nearby. She brought a mug and filled it with the water, then brought it to Ellana, who accepted it with a grateful smile. "Ma serannas," she said and slurped on it thirstily.

"What happened that has brought the Inquis—" Lyris broke off, brow furrowing as she rephrased it. "What has brought you and Ellana to us so unexpectedly?"

"Divine Victoria called for my arrest as an apostate," Solas explained, suddenly feeling tired as the invisible weight of guilt pressed on his shoulders. "She and a number of others in power within the Inquisition were convinced I was a vessel of Fen'Harel."

Lyris stared at him a moment and then grinned, laughing. "A vessel?" she asked. "Ridiculous."

Solas allowed himself a small smile before he went on. "I escaped and Ellana volunteered to join me." It wasn't entirely true, but would suffice. Checking Ellana's reaction he saw only the pensive, troubled set of her face and felt the weight on his shoulders intensify, remembering what he had cost her…what his actions could still cost her.

"Abelas will be pleased," Lyris said. "We will benefit from your guidance, Fen'Harel." She blinked then, suddenly glancing to Ellana with alarm.

Ellana extended the mug out to Lyris, chuckling. "It's all right. I already know." She shot Solas a curious look. "You didn't tell them I knew the truth?"

"Apologies Lyris," Solas said, sighing. "I should have made it clear to you or Mathrel specifically. I see that Abelas has not shared what I told him with you."

Lyris' expression hardened and Solas' many years working with her told him she was suppressing irritation. "Abelas did not," she confirmed and then, her volume dropping, she added, "I am glad of your return to us on multiple fronts."

Seeing her tenseness, Solas nodded. "We will speak in the Fade tonight," he promised her.

"Fen'Harel enansal," she answered, bowing as she recognized the dismissal. "Do you wish me to return to watch with Mathrel?"

Sensing movement at the edge of the courtyard, Solas turned his head slightly and saw the glint of the sentinel elves' armor as they emerged through a crumbling archway. Two of the sentinels carried a pole and tied beneath it was a dead ram, its throat slit to drain away the blood. Abelas walked at the front of the group, tall and lithe and stolid as they neared the encampment.

"Remain here with Ellana," Solas instructed Lyris with a quick glance at both women. "I must speak with Abelas." He started to take a step and halted, frowning as he remembered Zevanni and the foci she'd found. "Zevanni has found a foci," he told Lyris, his voice cold and stiff with formality. "And I believe it to be fully charged."

Lyris' lips parted and she grinned, as feral as a wolf. "Then we can take down the Veil."

"Sooner than I had anticipated," Solas answered, noting Ellana's anxious expression. His hand itched, longing to reach out and caress her cheek with a reassuring touch, but he stifled it. Now was Fen'Harel's moment, and Solas could wait. "If you will excuse me," he said and walked with a quick, even stride through the tents to meet with Abelas' group.

Two sentinels had already set upon butchering the ram, one stripping its skin away with a blade while the other maneuvered the body and held its legs. Abelas stood nearby, arms behind his back and his eyes dark beneath his hood. The vallaslin of Mythal remained proudly emblazoned over his skin.

"Abelas," Solas greeted him with a stiff nod. "You have hunted well."

"Fen'Harel." Abelas returned his greeting with a little dip of his head. "The forest here is remote with few humans or other races. The game is easy to catch and the meat rich in fat. We could support a few hundred on foraging alone here the remainder of the summer." He paused, eyes narrowing. "If you wish to build an army."

"An army is easily seen, even from a distance," Solas said, plastering a small, chilly smile over his lips. "We must cling to shadow a while longer, lethallin."

"Time is not a commodity we can afford to waste," Abelas reminded him, scowling. "As you are so fond of telling me, Dread Wolf, we are all shem-elves now."

"Yes," Solas said, letting annoyance creep into the edges of his voice. "Time is our greatest enemy, but we have a wealth of enemies. And many of them already possess armies."

"Yet none of those enemies have the backing of Mythal," Abelas muttered. He shifted from foot to foot, his expression twisting with some unreadable emotion before he went on. "I have encountered shem-elves in the woods. They live in a clan and bear vallaslin. You call them Dalish?"

"They call themselves that," Solas answered. Unlike himself, Abelas and the sentinels hadn't been able to watch the waking world through the Fade and knew very little of the modern world. All elves of this world were shem-elves to them, separated only by whether they bore vallaslin. "You have spoken with them?"

"I have," Abelas announced, thrusting his chin out. "Their leader claimed Mythal visited her in a dream and bade her heed my words. They would serve Mythal and join us willingly to restore the People." He edged close to Solas, urgency in his voice and posture. "Mythal moves with us, Fen'Harel, and she would urge us swiftness."

Schooling his reaction, Solas merely stared at Abelas and remained silent. He'd visited Mythal after defeating Corypheus and taken what little magic and power she could provide him without her soul perishing. She'd likely gone to the Fade, and quite possibly moved on to another vessel—such as the witch, Morrigan. Yet Solas couldn't be entirely certain Mythal supported him now. They'd been as close as mother and son, teacher and student, in Elvhenan at one time. Yet her soul had inhabited this modern world for millennia while he slept. Those accumulated experiences had undoubtedly changed her. Her goals weren't necessarily his own any longer. The idea that she could feasibly oppose him with a force of her own made something in his chest hurt, but he pushed it aside as unlikely. He'd have to find her new vessel at some point and commune with her to solidify an alliance.

"We will take action, sooner than I thought," Solas revealed, deliberately avoiding discussing Mythal or her intentions. Although the sentinels were individuals and appeared to be under no compulsion, Solas knew the vallaslin they wore likely carried Mythal's blood. Someday they could become slaves to her will if Mythal's new vessel worked out a way to wrest control of them.

"You have news?" Abelas asked.

"One of my agents in Tevinter has located a fully charged foci," he replied, keeping his voice low and soft.

Abelas' gaze slid beyond Solas to the other campfire beyond the row of tents separating the sentinels from Lyris and Ellana. "Is that why you have brought the Inquisitor?"

"In part," Solas hedged, again deliberately vague though it earned him a disapproving glare from Abelas. Ignoring the sentinel elf's look Solas said, "The Inquisition may no longer be friendly toward us. Be wary."

"And the Qunari base?" Abelas asked. "My people saw the Inquisition activate the eluvian and enter it early this morning without you." His brow furrowed and his eyes sharp. "They turned against you." It wasn't a question.

"They suspected me," Solas admitted. "But no matter. The Inquisitor has joined me and the Qunari have mostly been eradicated. I deactivated the Halamshiral eluvian so the Inquisition can no longer interfere with us."

"Then what is the next move, Fen'Harel?" Abelas asked, his lips curling in a humorless grin. "We have the foci to tear down the Veil and restore the People. We must consolidate our forces and build a larger army of shem-elves."

Solas kept his face impassive as his mind churned like rapids in a fast-flowing river. Even one such as Abelas understood that removing the Veil would cause chaos. Demons would find themselves suddenly free in the waking world, able to possess non-mages and mages alike. Spirits that had been peaceably dwelling in the Fade would abruptly be torn from their existence there and flung into unchanging reality. The shock would twist them, the same way a sudden strong breeze could whip up harmless dust into a storm. The result would be still more demons.

For weeks all the races of Thedas would find themselves inundated with bloodthirsty demons. Hundreds, even thousands would die in the first few hours and days. The weak, the young, the unprepared and the unlucky would perish first. After that it'd be a slow war of recovery as the Fade and the waking world returned to the reality Solas had known in Elvhenan. By the time the restored world began to stabilize it would be a comparatively barren place, lonely with so many dead—spirit and sentient mortals alike—but the People would be immortal and every one of them a powerful mage. They would emerge the dominant race, especially if Solas survived to lead them as the sole Evanuris, capable of transforming the waking world as he could with the Fade in dreams.

To protect the Elvhen survivors from the approaching chaos Solas had considered warding them off belowground for a year or two. To reduce the amount of food they'd need they could enter deep sleep, waking in turns to serve as attendants to those who remained asleep. Some would need to remain awake and on the surface, leading armies of shem-elves against the demons and other races. Solas had shared these ideas with Abelas and his arcane warriors, providing them with something to believe in as they did the preparatory work.

Yet now Solas couldn't help but second-guess himself. What if the devastation proved far worse than he imagined? What if, unfathomably, removing the Veil didn't reestablish magic among the People? What if it elevated all mortal races? What if the chaos never ended and the People were too few to survive it?

Abelas hadn't stopped watching him, waiting expectantly. Clenching his jaw, Solas nodded with a tight smile. "If you believe the Dalish clan you encountered is trustworthy, tell their Keeper I will meet with her in a dream a week from now." He doubted a wild ranging Dalish clan would embrace the Dread Wolf—they'd see it as a trick certainly—but perhaps if they met Ellana…

"Then it is time our forces grew," Abelas said, his expression set with grim satisfaction. "I will approach the clan's leader when we hunt again tomorrow."

"The Inquisitor and I will accompany you," Solas said, making a swift decision. Ellana was too perfect a resource not to utilize for recruiting the Dalish to his cause.

Abelas shot him a questioning look. "You will go to them in person?" Shaking his head, he asked, "Is it wise to allow them to see you before they have pledged allegiance?"

"You misunderstand," Solas said patiently, a small, tight smile over his lips. "I will not go to them as one of the People. They must know it is Fen'Harel who calls them as much as Mythal. They must be willing to follow my orders and for the Dalish it will be a challenge."

"And if they refuse after seeing the Wolf?" Abelas asked, a note of something like amusement in his voice.

"Then we will part ways peacefully," Solas said, scowling. "There is always choice. There must always be choice in the world we create. Do you understand?" He pinned the sentinel with a harsh look. "There will be no bloodshed."

"As you say," Abelas agreed, but his face revealed his doubt plain enough.

One of the sentinels who'd been butchering the ram appeared with a haunch of raw meat over a charred stick and extended it to Solas. "Fen'Harel enansal," she said.

"Ma serannas," Solas replied with a nod and, after sliding his sleeves up to avoid getting blood on them, he accepted the skewered haunch. With a nod to Abelas, he said, "Until tomorrow."

Abelas gave a more formal dip of his head. "Dareth shiral."

Next Chapter:

Ellana cringed, repulsed. Her lips curled in a snarl as she said, "I fought Corypheus to prevent that future from happening. You fought to prevent that—or so I thought."

"I did fight Corypheus to prevent that," Solas replied, heat in his voice. "There was more at stake with Corypehus than you knew. Had the Veil failed entirely in that future you saw the Evanuris would have been freed."