Arabella's senses slowly returned, her mind still clouded with the remnants of unconsciousness. The throbbing ache in her head persisted, a relentless reminder of her captivity. She attempted to move, but her body felt leaden, confined within the narrow space of the pod's structure.

With blurred vision, she strained to peer through the translucent window before her, struggling to discern her surroundings. Shapes and figures danced in the dim light, but details remained elusive, obscured by the haze of her disorientation. She registered the presence of other pods nearby, each containing its own silent occupant.

A sensation of unease crept over her, accompanied by whispers of betrayal and the echo of dark voices clamoring for retribution. The tendrils of consciousness tugged at her mind, threatening to engulf her in their sinister embrace. Arabella fought against the encroaching darkness, clinging to the fringes of awareness before succumbing once more to the seductive lure of complete darkness.


Trapped within the confines of the pod, Solas grappled with the ebb and flow of consciousness, each moment feeling like a fleeting passage through a foggy dream. The absence of his connection to the weave of magic left him adrift, untethered and disoriented, his senses dulled by the oppressive atmosphere.

As he peered through the pod's blurry window, fragments of recognition stirred within his mind. Arabella. The name resonated with a flicker of familiarity, mingling with the rising dread that coiled in the pit of his stomach. His head throbbed with a pulsating ache, a relentless reminder of the violence that had shattered his awareness.

With a determination fueled by fear, Solas pushed against the visceral walls of the pod, each movement more difficult than the last. The cramped space offered no solace, only a suffocating sense of claustrophobia that pressed upon him from all sides. In the depths of his consciousness, a spark of defiance ignited—a resolve to break free from the shackles of captivity and discover what had bound him in darkness.

Solas' mind raced with frantic thoughts, his desperation clawing at the edges of his sanity. The image of his orb, nestled safely in his bag back at Arabella's house, burned brightly in his mind's eye, a tether to his sense of purpose amidst the chaos. A surge of nausea washed over him, his dread swelling to unfathomable heights as he grappled with the implications of his captivity.

A distinct hiss filled the air, sending shivers down his spine as the pod's window ominously slid open. Flesh-like tendrils snaked around his body, ensnaring him and driving him back against the pod's confines. His heart hammered in his chest as a grotesque creature, its cephalopod-like head hovering eerily, advanced towards him with deliberate intent.

With a sickening realization, he watched as the creature extended a clawed hand, cradling a wriggling, worm-like critter. Dread gripped him in a vice as the creature's tentacled visage bore into his soul, its eyes gleaming with an unsettling awareness. A primal scream tore through Solas' throat as the writhing creature slithered over his eyeball, a searing agony engulfing his senses as it burrowed towards his brain.

His cries echoed in the chamber, disembodied and filled with anguish, as he succumbed to the merciless embrace of unconsciousness once more, enveloped by the suffocating darkness that swallowed him whole.


Arabella's consciousness emerged amidst the chaos of the burning wreckage, the searing light of the sun piercing through the haze of confusion that enveloped her senses. The writhing sensation within her skull twisted and contorted, fragmented images clawing at the edges of her consciousness.

Flashes of crimson and shadows danced before her mind's eye, a kaleidoscope of memories and fleeting glimpses that offered little solace amidst the turmoil. Blood-stained alleys and the ominous silhouette of a dark temple bathed in blood loomed in her fractured recollections, each image a haunting echo of a past she struggled to comprehend.

Gasping for air, she collapsed to her knees upon the sand, the weight of elusive memories pressing down on her with an unrelenting force.

"Arabella" she heard her name echoed in the air, drawing her attention to the figure approaching from behind. A surge of apprehension coursed through her veins as she turned to face a tall bald elf, his eyes holding a soft recognition that stirred familiarity within her.

Visions of lingering kisses and flesh against flesh in the throws of passion flickered through her mind, mingling with the salty sea breeze that caressed her skin. Their gazes met, wary and uncertain, as the tendrils of memory slowly loosened their grip, leaving behind a palpable tension that hung heavy in the air between them.

Solas approached her with cautious steps, his gaze fixed on her with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Arabella," softer this time, his voice laced with uncertainty, "are you alright?"

She blinked, her eyes focusing on Solas with a hint of confusion. "I... I think so," she replied, her voice wavering slightly as she struggled to piece together the fragments of her memory.

He studied her carefully, a pang of apprehension gnawing at his insides as he realized the depth of her disorientation. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked gently, his tone tinged with worry.

Arabella shook her head, strands of dark hair falling across her face as she searched for answers within the recesses of her mind. "It's all... fuzzy," she admitted, her brow furrowing in angry frustration.

Solas swallowed hard, his heart heavy with the weight of their brief shared history now lost to her. "We were aboard a ship," he explained, his voice tinged with sadness, "and then there was... darkness."

Arabella's eyes widened with realization, a flicker of fear dancing in their depths. "Darkness," she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Solas reached out, a gentle hand resting on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "We're safe now, I think," he assured her, his eyes taking in their unfamiliar surroundings.

As the truth began to dawn upon him, Solas realized the enormity of the situation they now faced. Arabella had lost more than just her memories—she had lost a part of herself, and he had no idea how to help her.

He knelt next to her, his mind racing as he reached deep within himself in search of his tether to magic in this strange realm. He felt the familiar hum of energy coursing through him, a comforting presence amidst the chaos that surrounded them. With a whispered incantation, he channeled the essence of healing magic, enveloping Arabella in a warm rush of soothing energy.

Arabella's eyes closed in relief as she felt the gentle embrace of the magic surrounding her, the tendrils of warmth seeping into her very being. "Are you a cleric?" she whispered with a hint of hope.

Solas shook his head, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "Cleric?" he asked softly, "I'm not familiar with the term. And, unfortunately, I don't know what more magic can do to help us now."

Arabella's laughter was bitter and tinged with resignation. "Nothing," she scoffed, dismissing his ignorance in her momentary despair, "we'll be mind flayers in no time."

Solas grimaced at the thought, his mind racing with questions about the ominous sounding term. "Mind flayers?" he voiced apprehensively.

Arabella pushed herself up with his help, the weight of uncertainty heavy upon her shoulders. "Creatures of nightmares," she explained grimly, "beings that feast on minds and souls."

Solas' expression darkened, his thoughts swirling with dread. "We cannot allow that to happen," he declared firmly, his gaze meeting hers with a steely determination. Souls, spirits; perhaps they meant the same thing, he couldn't be sure. But, one thing was for sure, he would not lose himself to whatever curse was crawling around his head. His jaw clenched, meeting her eyes solemnly.

Arabella nodded in agreement, a flicker of determination igniting within her despite the overwhelming odds they faced. "Agreed," she replied with a fierce resolve, "but first, we need to find out where we are, and find a healer. Quickly."


Astarion's consciousness stirred amidst the gentle embrace of sunlight, its warmth a stark contrast to the shadows that had long been his refuge. At first, the sensation seemed surreal, as if he were adrift in the depths of a dream where even the laws of nature could be bent to his will. But as clarity seeped into his awareness, the truth dawned upon him with chilling clarity.

With a sudden jolt, he recoiled, his instincts screaming for him to seek shelter from the relentless gaze of the sun. His eyes darted around in frantic search, seeking refuge from the impending threat that never materialized. Bewildered, he tentatively extended a hand into the sunlight, half-expecting to feel the searing burn that would betray his vampiric nature.

To his astonishment, no such pain greeted him. Instead, he felt the gentle caress of warmth, a sensation that stirred long-dormant memories of a life bathed in light. With cautious curiosity, he pulled up his sleeve, exposing more of his pale skin to the golden rays that danced upon his fingertips.

Tilting his head back, Astarion surrendered himself to the radiant embrace of the sun, its brilliance casting a halo of warmth upon his upturned face. In that moment of serene astonishment, he felt a glimmer of hope flicker within him, a whisper of possibility that dared to challenge the shadows that had bound him for so long.

His moment of solace shattered like glass as a strange sensation gripped his mind with relentless force. It was as though a wriggling, malevolent presence had taken root within the very depths of his consciousness, coiling and twisting with insidious intent. Images, vivid and nightmarish, flooded his senses with overwhelming intensity, each one a chilling reminder of the horrors he had faced.

Mind flayers, with their grotesque forms and insatiable hunger for control, loomed large in the recesses of his mind, their presence a looming specter that threatened to consume him whole. Visceral pods, encasing hapless victims in a macabre embrace, haunted his thoughts with their silent screams and desperate pleas for salvation.

And then, the tadpole—a writhing abomination that slithered with sinister purpose, its presence a harbinger of doom that sent shivers down his spine. In his mind's eye, he saw it looming over him, a grotesque parody of life, its tendrils poised to invade his very being.

Astarion's screams echoed in the dark recesses of his mind, a primal cry of defiance against the encroaching darkness. But even as he fought against the relentless onslaught of visions, he knew deep down that the true battle had only just begun.

Moments passed, and he found himself wandering amidst the wreckage, scavenging for anything of value amidst the chaos of the crash. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as they fell upon a glint of metal—a dagger, abandoned amidst the debris. With eager hands, he retrieved the blade, the weight of it familiar and comforting in his grasp.

Suddenly, the air stirred with the approach of voices, their cadence drawing nearer with each passing moment. Instinctively, Astarion sought cover behind the shelter of a broad-trunked tree, his senses alert to the impending encounter. Peering out from his vantage point, he observed with keen interest as a woman, unmistakably drow, walked alongside a male elf, their footsteps echoing softly against the forest floor.

His gaze lingered upon the drow, her form graceful and ethereal amidst the shadowed embrace of the trees. Her blue-gray skin seemed to shimmer in the dappled sunlight, a stark contrast to the darkness of her long, wavy black hair cascading like silken strands around her shoulders. She moved with a fluidity that spoke of grace and power, her every step a testament to her otherworldly beauty.

Beside her stood the male elf, his stature towering over hers with an air of quiet confidence. The sight of the elf prompted a surge of memories from their time aboard the ship, his bald visage a striking anomaly amidst the backdrop of elven kind, but also something else, a flash of a passing glance in a dark alley. With a cautious gaze, he watched the pair draw closer, his instincts on high alert.

With narrowed eyes, Astarion quickened his pace, putting more distance between himself and the approaching pair. An impish grin tugged at his lips as he feigned interest in the thick grass ahead, his senses attuned to their nearing footsteps.


Arabella's gait faltered as she spotted a figure ahead, a man seemingly engrossed in searching the grass, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun's glare. Alertness coursed through her veins as she nudged Solas, directing his attention toward the peculiar sight up ahead.

"Who would be searching for anything so casually near this?" Arabella asked incredulously, motioning toward the crashed nautiloid.

"I agree. Best be on your guard," Solas replied in a low voice.

Arabella nodded, eyeing him with interest, noting the dangerous look that flickered across his lavender filled gaze.

They approached the stranger cautiously, exchanging skeptical glances before the man spoke.

"Hurry. I've got one of those brain things cornered. There," the white-haired elf pointed toward a tall bush in the grass.

Arabella's lips curled into a wry smirk as she exchanged a knowing glance with Solas, her suspicion evident in the arch of her brow.

"Oh, dear, you do realize you're barking up the wrong tree, don't you?" she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "As entertaining as your little theatrics are, save it for a passing fool."

Solas, standing beside her, couldn't help but admire her quick wit, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He remained silent, allowing her to take the lead in their exchange with the enigmatic stranger.

The man's grimace deepened at Arabella's jab, but he maintained his composure, his eyes narrowing as he brandished a dagger, holding it aloft.

"I just want some information," he persisted, his tone tinged with urgency. "I saw you scuttling about on the ship. You're in league with them, aren't you?"

Arabella's gaze hardened, a steely resolve flashing in her eyes as she met his accusatory stare.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises," she retorted incredulously. "First, you're playing hide and seek in the grass like a lost child, and now you're accusing us of being in league with brain-eating monsters. Quite the imagination you've got there. And as for being in league with them, I'd suggest you tread carefully with your assumptions, faerie. You might find yourself on the wrong side of a blade," she smiled menacingly.

In an effort to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, Solas quickly interjected, "We seek answers as much as you do. Perhaps we can work together in getting to the bottom of this mess," his voice a soothing balm in the midst of tension.

The dagger wielding elf's expression softened slightly, his gaze flickering between Arabella and Solas as he weighed their words. "Very well," he conceded. "You may call me Astarion," he introduced himself, sounding a bit more cheerful as he sheathed his dagger.

In an instant, a telepathic surge enveloped them, flooding their minds with visions of dense forests, silver spires, and intricate bridges interwoven amidst vibrant foliage. Elves' faces adorned with intricate markings glid through the scenes, their beings pulsating with magic. Gasping in unison, the trio stood transfixed, chests heaving with the weight of the revelation.

After a beat, Arabella and Astarion exchanged a glance, their expressions reflecting a piqued curiosity, before both directing their attention to Solas.

Solas met their gaze, his own a mix of curiosity and apprehension as he processed the telepathic wave that had enveloped them. The images lingered in his mind, vivid and surreal, echoes from a distant realm that felt both familiar and foreign.

"Fascinating," Astarion remarked, a coy smile gracing his lips. "I knew there was something… different about you," he hummed with narrowed eyes.

His coy smile intrigued Solas, his demeanor shifting from suspicion to genuine interest. But, he couldn't help but notice the subtle hint of sadness lurking in those ruby eyes, a familiar look that spoke of the oppressive weight of forced compliance. He grimaced, quickly looking away when Astarion raised an eyebrow in his direction.

Arabella regarded Solas with a tilt of her head, her eyes filled with open intrigue.

"Fascinating indeed," Arabella echoed Astarion's sentiment cautiously.

Arabella's curious gaze held a depth that stirred something within him, a silent question lingering between them, unspoken but palpable. He felt a surprising kinship with her, forged in the crucible of uncertainty and danger; their shared evening still pulsing in his veins like an echo of forbidden magic.

Her gaze remained fixed on him, her eyes searching his face for answers that even he couldn't fully comprehend. Solas returned her gaze, swallowing sharply, feeling the weight of displacement heavily on his shoulders. For the first time since waking, he felt a strong pang of loss deep in the pit of his stomach, missing the familiarity of a home he wasn't sure still existed.

Astarion rolled his eyes dramatically. "Well, this is boring. Shall we continue our delightful staring contest, or do we have more pressing matters to attend to?" he asked impatiently.

Arabella gave a throaty chuckle, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down Solas' spine. He gave her a small smile, his gaze openly revealing her effect on him. A small rush of pride flourished in his chest at the subtle blush creeping onto her cheeks.

Sighing exasperatedly, Astarion took the lead, his fluid movements guiding them forward. Solas and Arabella nodded, the latter giving Solas a searing look before turning and falling into step with Astarion.

Soon, the distant sounds of voices raised in argument reached their ears, drawing them closer with a mixture of caution and curiosity. Guided by the echo of discord, they pressed on, finding two tieflings in a heated discussion.

Kossith? Here? Ghilan'nain's experiments on the Kossith people stirred in the recesses of Solas' mind. He stepped with care as he approached, his eyes taking in the bickering duo with interest, as he refocused his thoughts.

Arabella's silver tongue afforded them the opportunity to speak with the captive hanging in the wooden cage. Solas finally realized it was the same green-skinned woman from the nautiloid. Her voice probed his mind mercilessly, and he hissed at the intrusion.

Arabella gave him a sideways glance, nodding toward the cage.

"Alright," he said, and cast a forceful gust of wind toward the bottom of the cage. He watched expressionless as the woman landed firmly on her feet; her eyes boring into his.

The forest seemed to exhale a sigh of relief, the tension lifting with each creak of the rusted chains holding the empty cage up above. Arabella's eyes sparkled with curiosity as the githyanki, named Lae'zel, spoke of a nearby creche, her interest piqued by the prospect of finding help against the cursed tadpoles.

"It seems fortune favors us today," Arabella remarked eagerly.

Solas remained silent, his gaze fixed on Lae'zel with a curious look; his usual composed demeanor faltered at the strange appearance of the fierce warrior before them.

Allowing Arabella to take the lead in the discussion, Solas stepped back near Astarion, his brow furrowed in evident confusion. Astarion couldn't resist a playful jab at Solas' expense.

"Oh, come on, give the green lizard a chance," he quipped charismatically.

Solas' eyes widened in incredulity. "She's a lizard?" he murmured, his disbelief palpable.

Astarion's unrestrained cackle echoed through the trees, drawing both Arabella and Lae'zel's attention. He waved a hand dramatically, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes as he cleared his throat, meeting Lae'zel's fierce glare with an unapologetic smirk.

Amused by the banter, Arabella winked at Solas, the clouded look in his eyes reminding her of a lost pup. His furrowed brow released its tension at her warm smile, and he gave her a small smile in return, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Seems like we've got quite the interesting party now," Arabella mused, a glint of excitement in her eyes.

With Lae'zel now among them, their group took on a new dynamic, each member bringing their own strengths and mysteries to the table. They set off through the dense forest, the canopy of leaves casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The urgency of their quest spurred them forward, each step bringing them closer to their goal of finding Zorru, the one who could provide them with crucial information about the nearby githyanki creche.


A/N: Whew! Well, now I have my main trio together. I'm excited to keep this going. The next chapter will not be introducing the rest of the party in this much detail, it will be some days or even a week or two later. I'm looking forward to exploring Solas' reactions to the extreme differences in this world, as well as how his magic responds to the tadpole and vice-versa. And, I haven't forgotten his orb… neither has he. ;)

Naturally, I had to introduce Astarion properly due to the fact that he's a central character, but also because he's Astarion. You know?

And lastly, I just HAD to add in that line about giving 'the green lizard a chance' after hearing Devora Wilde (Lae'zel's VA) make that joke in an interview.

Thanks for reading! :)