The Dread Wolf
As the morning sun rose higher into the skies, too high to shine through the large windows of this cold, opulent room, Ennaly found herself getting increasingly bored, angry, and frustrated. The audacity of the Orlesian and Ferelden nobility knew no limit. The Inquisition had been working tirelessly to aid their war-torn countries, restoring them from the terror that reigned over them. For the past three years, Ennaly had been racing around to close rifts, risking life and limb for the good of all.
To what end?
If you listened to the nobles, you'd think she'd been seizing land for greed and tyranny. If not for Josephine's calming presence, and even the occasional concerned gaze from the Divine, Ennaly would have given into her emotions and let them know her thoughts in far less diplomatic ways. She was glad she hadn't, since she was sure that wouldn't do them any favours. But the injustice of it all...
Bann Teagan and Duke Cyril kept droning on, and Ennaly found her eyes glazing over, staring at the large chandelier overhead. Something reflected a dot of light there, fracturing in the dangling crystal to a kaleidoscope of colour, softly shimmering on the ceiling. After staring at it, she realised it must be coming from one of the nobles in the audience. Reflections from jewellery, perhaps? But from what source?
She stole a glance behind her, and was greeted by Dorian's wide grin. He was playing around with a large gemstone ring, projecting reflections for her amusement.
She grinned back at him. His presence made everything better. It was strange to learn he was a Magister now, taking over after the death of his father, but it would certainly help him with his plans to work towards a better Tevinter.
Yesterday, they had spent a wonderful day together, laughing and sharing tales, hearing what everybody had been up to, the entire gang united.
Well, besides Solas, of course.
Without active thought, her fingers moved to her waist to fidget with his wolven amulet, but her fingers grasped around thin air. While she had been carrying it on and off over the last few years, depending on her current attitude towards Solas, it did not make a good accessory to her formal gown.
It had been a while since she met him in the Fade. At the back of her mind, she worried sometimes, partly in wonder where he was, partly in fear that there would be no one to calm down her Anchor. It had been acting up lately, and it was waking her at night, but her own research had only yielded disappointment.
"...well-intentioned mistakes..."
Ennaly's musings faded at those words, and she glanced up towards Duke Cyril. Gods, if they threw any more accusations at her, she might just resort to ill-intentioned actions. There were a million things she would rather do than sit here.
She began fantasising about a forest stream with cool quick-rushing water. It would be so refreshing and welcome after the heat of this room. Just as she was imagining what flowers should be on the banks, she was woken from her musing by a whisper in her ear. Divine Victoria wanted to speak to her privately?
Confused, she eyed Leliana. She sat on the dais in front of her and granted her a nod, a serious expression on her face. Ennaly nodded back. At this moment, she'd take any opportunity to be relieved from the unjustified accusations.
Yet, fifteen minutes later as she stared at the active Eluvian, the image of the murdered Qunari still fresh in her mind, Ennaly sighed with resignation. She doubted the nobility would thank her for it, but the Inquisition had to investigate more messes.
"Oh, this is gonna be fun!" Bull exclaimed, his axe in hand. "The old team together again to kick some ass!"
And truth be told, it did feel good to have her staff back in her hand, her dragonskin coat on, and be surrounded by Dorian, Bull, Varric, Cole and Cassandra, all of them geared up and ready for battle. Following the trail of blood through the Eluvian would undoubtedly prove more interesting than listening to the rambling of nobles.
But the vista that greeted them when they stepped out of the Eluvian from the Crossroads, was nothing like Ennaly expected. They were surrounded by mountains, quite possibly miles away from Orlais, but she couldn't shake away a feeling of familiarity. A cool breeze crossed the valley, and below them, in the middle of the lake on a small island, stood a lone building, undoubtedly ages old.
Memories stirred within her. Hadn't she once been in one of the buildings on the surrounding mountains, a little pavilion, overlooking a sunrise, resting her head against Solas' chest?
She tried to recall the details. What had he said? This place had been a sanctuary, of sorts, in ancient times. If that was true, then what purpose did it have now, and why did the Eluvian and trail of blood lead here, of all places?
"I can still feel the heat crackling," Dorian remarked as they approached the next Eluvian. Petrified Qunari stood around scorch marks, their expressions frozen in battle cries. The remnants of powerful magic still lingered in the air. Ennaly glanced at Dorian, but kept silent. She didn't want to admit it, but there was something distinctly familiar to the energy around here, but Dorian didn't seem to notice it. She swallowed. For him, it'd been two years, and he had never felt his magic as much as she had, and neither was he aware of his increased power. For her, it had been a month.
Conflicted by her emotions, she tried to dismiss her thoughts as they continued with uneasy steps. But as they travelled through the Eluvians, Ennaly couldn't help shaking away an ever-increasing sense of foreboding, some sinking feeling of connectivity between it all. Whatever they were chasing was more than just a murdered Qunari in the Winter Palace. But what did Solas have to do with it?
I bid you welcome in Fen'Harel's home. Take the oath, and enter our sanctuary.
Ancient Elves whispered in haunting voices, weapons at the ready. A shiver ran down Ennaly's spine as a nearly-forgotten consciousness woke inside her, begging her attention in Elven. She had rarely heard the voices of the Well of Sorrows over the last two years, only for them to wake now and reveal this oath. "I swear to forever walk the paths of freedom," she repeated in a voice more confident than she felt.
We are one, the spirits replied, and stepped aside to let them pass.
"So, the voices of the Well, Mythal'sservants, know the secret phrase to this place, that supposedly belongs to Fen'Harel?" Dorian mused.
"Didn't that Abelas guy say that he didn't have anything to do with her murder?" Varric added. "Perhaps they were friends?"
Say hello to my old friend, Mythal had told her, before laughing.
Ennaly wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. Solas had said he had once carried Mythal's Vallaslin, before he somehow turned into Fen'Harel's… servant? Mythal must have known about Solas, surely. Just whom had she meant by old friend?
She continued with the hope of finding answers in this place, but instead, each Eluvian they passed only raised more questions. Visions washed over them to reveal memories of bygone times. A group of Elves marked by Vallaslin, slaves, seeking refuge. The Dread Wolf, obscured by a mask and cloak, healing the wounded. A whiff of something spicy caught the breeze and Ennaly was reminded of herbs cultivated in a garden below Tarasyl'an Te'las, where Solas told her he loved her for the first time.
"Isn't Fen'Harel supposed to be your God of misfortune?" Dorian asked bewildered.
Ennaly had a hard time looking anyone in the eye as Solas' voice haunted her mind. What is a God to you? Immortal? Powerful? But he was both of those things, wasn't he? "I'm not sure anymore," she sighed meekly.
A next vision claimed that Fen'Harel was falsely named a God, that he never desired any divine mantle, instead just helping former slaves. If not Gods, then mages, or spirits, or something we've never seen.
"Kinda curious that this guy had to specify he wasn't a God," Bull noted.
"He sounds like quite the rebel," Dorian added.
A rebel has no need for slave marks. "Yes," she agreed unwillingly, surprised her voice was steady enough to speak. "A rebel."
The final vision claimed that the Elven Gods were Evanuris, powerful mages, but mortal, enslaving thousands, proclaiming their own divinity. And Fen'Harel had been there, to help the slaves. Protect those that cannot protect themselves, rang through Ennaly's mind, and this time, her hand did close around the jawbone at her waist.
All of a sudden, a blinding ache erupted from her hand, and she keeled over. For a moment, she thought the teeth of the amulet must have cut her again, but that wasn't right... It was the other hand that hurt, and the pain was far more than a cut could cause, a biting heat that gnawed at her hand. She lifted her left hand to inspect the Anchor, bursting with bright light. The erratic rhythm of the flares matched the stabs of pain. She hissed, then cursed.
"You okay?" Varric asked concerned, and she nodded. The pain had been intense, but luckily it was short. "Good," he continued after a sigh of relief. "Sparkler is already reserved for Dorian. Don't make me doubt my nicknames, alright? I have already given you three."
She smiled. "Inquisitor was never much of a nickname. That is just a title. And Herald… Well, I don't mind a new name."
Varric huffed dramatically. "You can't just force me to pick a new name. They have to come naturally."
They didn't have much time to debate, as a group of Qunari emerged from the front doors of the large building on the island. Bull rumbled loudly as he grabbed his axe. "Kind of shitty that I'm no longer in the Qun. Might have had some insight into this mess."
"And be on the other side of this conflict, likely," Dorian reasoned as he raised his staff and started to channel his magic.
And nothing felt better than the release of lightning, to have to feel nothing more than power surging from her core to her staff. But as they were victorious, Ennaly gazed at the blood flowing onto the marble floor and could only think that it was wrong to bring death into a sanctuary for freed slaves. Was this a prelude to war with the Qunari?
Varric's voice from ahead pulled her from her musings. "Doesn't this look similar to those paintings Chuckles used to make?"
Ennaly followed his voice and was greeted by a large fresco. The colours were still vibrant in the passing of time, brighter than the fresco of the forest scape far below Skyhold. It reached the ceiling, the figures several times larger than life, depicting a figure in a wolf mask removing the Vallaslin of Elven faces. The memory of the warm tingling sensation of Solas' magic taking away her Vallaslin was still sharp in her mind after two years. Neither could she forget the way he had looked at her when the spell was finished, before he kissed her.
Forgotten why they were here, Ennaly let her fingers gently slide over the image. In places, the plaster had become so saturated with pigment that the residual paint had dried in brushstrokes, still discernible. A lump started to form in her throat.
Certainly, this technique was not uncommon. They had seen it scattered all around Thedas, sometimes old, sometimes new. But all artists had their own style, their own techniques. And Varric was right. This did look eerily similar to the paintings in Skyhold, not just the brushstrokes, but the way the figures were painted, the way the background was decorated. There was some truth buried beneath layers of paint and history, but Ennaly didn't want to admit to it.
Until a voice rang quietly through the room, that was. At first, she thought it was simply her own memory, but it was spoken by a different voice. "Ar lasa mala revas. You are so beautiful," Cole chanted softly, and Ennaly remembered fingers trailing her cheeks, a heartfelt kiss, and then... he had stepped away. It was in a different ruin of Elven architecture, with a different fresco painted on the wall.
Not showing her emotions to the others, Ennaly let her fingers glide towards the painted man's hand. A gasp escaped her as her fingers connected to his, and she retracted her arm. Most of this man's face was hidden by the mask, but it was possible. The two times she had seen the Dread Wolf, he had been a wolf. She understood that he must have another, Elven form. Was she currently staring at a painting Solas had made? Of Solas himself? Or of Fen'Harel?
"Cleansed, fresh-faced where the marks once marred. Fen'Harel helping, healing, giving hope," Cole finished.
So Fen'Harel. Not Solas.
Or…?
She turned around and saw the others staring at her a little uncomfortably.
"Solas took away yours, did he not?" Dorian asked quietly. "Is there… Any connection here? These ruins are older than the Dalish."
Ennaly wasn't sure if she wanted to reveal what she knew or not. She decided she didn't have the words for it, least of all for the confession that she had been seeing him about once every month for the last two years, in the Fade. But as she wanted to turn around again, her eyes crossed Bull.
He knew. He might not know everything she did, but he knew the start. Resigned, she nodded at him. She might not have the words, but he did, and Bull sighed as he faced the others. "Remember Abelas?"
Ennaly turned her attention back to the room while Bull spoke, having no desire to witness this truth being spoken aloud. There must be a way they could unlock the passage… She lit a torch of Veilfire, and worked on solving the puzzle, trying her very best not to remember the image of Solas standing near that torch of Veilfire in the Frostback. She just found the solution when Dorian's loud yell rang in the room. "Vishante kaffas! What do you mean he's over a thousand years old?"
Ennaly flinched from the indignation and anger in Dorian's tone and wanted to descend the newly revealed stairs, when Dorian stopped her. "Ennaly," he said, his eyes stuck between anger and hurt. "Are you serious? You knew this and you never told me?"
Her heart dropped to her feet upon seeing the hurt on his face. Unwillingly, a new image entered her mind, of Solas standing still and her pacing back and forth, conflicted by the truth. "Because it wouldn't have changed anything if you knew," she tried to plea.
The indignation and hurt in Dorian's voice only increased as he continued talking. "Wouldn't have changed anything? Of course it would have! We could have cursed at him together, I could have consoled you!"
I could have consoled you, she had said to Solas.
"I – I didn't know how to tell you," she tried again, starting to feel ashamed of herself. "I didn't want to interfere with your plans. Bull had figured it out, so I talked about it with him… a bit."
"Oh, sure, with Bull." Dorian turned around to look from Bull to Ennaly. "So the two people I care about most didn't bother telling me the truth? I'll find Solas, wherever he is, kill him myself, and after that, I'll deal with you both!"
"Dorian," Bull said, his voice serious. "That is why we didn't tell you. Do you understand?"
"They didn't mean to hurt you," Cole said softly, appearing next to Dorian, his hand on his arm.
Dorian shook away Cole's hand and folded his arms over each other. "What? They wanted to protect me? Pwah."
Ennaly took a step towards him. "I'm sorry, Dorian," she said regretfully.
"We didn't know either," Varric added, standing next to Cassandra, both of them a little awkward.
"Sorry," Ennaly muttered, staring down to her feet. "It's just… I…"
Dorian clucked impatiently, but stepped closer and gently pulled her in for a hug. "I guess I'm sorry too. This must have been hardest on you, since you were closest to him. But Bull…" he looked around with an angry glare. "We're not done yet. You can pay up later."
"Oh, I intend to make it up to you," Bull replied, a little remorseful, but not without a sense of innuendo. "Sorry, Kadan. Won't do it again."
Ennaly extracted herself from Dorian, allowing him to step closer to Bull. "Yes, you will," he stated. "If you think not telling me something will protect me, you'd rather lie. Like someone else we know."
"Solas didn't lie," Cole replied quietly.
Bull gently grabbed Dorian and pulled him against his chest, which he allowed begrudgingly. "I'd only lie out of love, Kadan."
Dorian mumbled something inaudibly.
"How are you?" Varric asked Ennaly. "I – I had no idea."
"Okay enough," she said, a little too airily. "I've already had two years to accustom myself to this truth."
"I am sorry," Cassandra provided. "It… is almost impressive how he managed to bypass Leliana's investigations. He was always so well-spoken and thoughtful."
"And arrogant at times," Bull added. "Hiding in plain sight, like the best spy."
Varric made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. "That is what you get with millennia of experience. Shit, Ennaly, your story is almost more romantically tragic that the stuff I wrote."
"Oh well," she started to say, when another searing hot stab passed through the Anchor and Ennaly yelped in pain, falling to her knees. The light almost blinded them, even when she dug her nails into her palm to try and cover it. It felt like her hand was on fire, enveloped by gnawing flames that somehow left her skin unscorched. But it went as it came and she could take a deep breath again.
"I can't stay mad at you if your hand is trying to kill you," Dorian said, concerned now.
"Well," Ennaly said, scrambling to her feet again with his help. "There's only one person that can help me out with this, so let's hope, before this day is over…"
Dorian crossed eyes with her. "Fasta vass," he cursed.
They started their descent down the stairway. "Is this a new phenomenon, with the Anchor?" Cassandra asked Ennaly. "I remember that Solas used to help you, but in his absence…"
Ennaly forced a half-hearted chuckle, and fully admired Solas for his ability to dance around truths for a year without ever outright lying. "Let's say I've had some help from beyond the Veil."
"You've been seeing him?" Dorian exclaimed, indignant again. "And he's been healing you from the Fade?"
Ennaly smiled meekly. "Be happy. Who knows what would have happened to me otherwise. He gained new tricks. He's always had... influence over dreams. I mean… He has a couple thousand years of experience on us."
"Inquisitor, I swear you cannot make up this stuff," Varric said. "From Tale of the Champion to All This Shit is Weird. I'm glad you're here to witness this, Seeker, or I wouldn't ever have been able to convince you of the truth."
"Sush," Cassandra noted, her face suddenly stern.
"What? Surely you can –" Varric continued, looking at her.
Cassandra scoffed and lowered her voice. "I merely meant to say I hear sound."
That was all the warning they got as a new fight erupted. Even without Solas in their midst, they still knew how to work together and benefit from positioning and spells. After their battle, Ennaly realised that she never mentioned Solas' involvement with Fen'Harel, nor the lingering magic she had felt. Perhaps it didn't matter, she thought. Certainly he must be waiting behind one of these Eluvians, involved in this cat-and-mouse game of chasing the Qunari.
The Eluvians brought them back to the Winter Palace, then to the Deep Roads, back again, and finally to the Fade, and the longer they travelled, the clearer it became that the Anchor wasn't calming down. As the pain increased, erratically and volatile, desperation to solve whatever problem had interrupted the Council got replaced by a growing desperation for Ennaly's health. The sparks had spread over her hand towards her wrist, and crept higher the more time passed.
Desperation was fed even more with the knowledge they gained in Vir Dirthara, the broken library. Could they trust the panicked, confused voices of the trapped Elvhen, narrated by the Archivist? Gods save me, the floor is gone. Do not let me fall. Do not let me –
Was that what had happened to the countless corpses they found trapped in the Crossroads? It had affected Solas so much. The powers of the ancient Elves were grand indeed. What a wonder it is to experience it after all that time. Was it the first time he had been in that place? But then… How had he not known the password? It had been a blessing to the Dread Wolf, after all.
When have you last heard from the Gods? When the Veil came down, they went silent! The fear in the Archivist's words was almost tangible. If only they weren't pursuing the Qunari, if only her hand wasn't trying to kill her, Ennaly would have given anything for the chance to linger in that place, converse with the Archivist and peruse the books to figure out what had happened. If there ever was someone deserving of the title Keeperlike the Dalish knew, this… spirit of knowledge, Ghil-Dirthalen, was.
After he held back the sky to imprison the Gods, the Dread Wolf disappeared. We must tear down the Veil! The cities, the pathways… Without magic, they're crumbling! Fen'Harel's Veil has turned our empire to ruins.
The Veil, a construction from Fen'Harel?
The Anchor flared again, and without Cassandra's aid, Ennaly might have fallen off the pathway and be falling forever. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to bite away the pain, still white-hot and burning. The sparks enveloped her arm to her elbow.
"Is it getting worse? Are you alright?"
Ennaly didn't even know which of her friends asked it, and neither did she have the peace of mind to pretend that she was fine. Angrily, she wiped the sweat and tears away. This place might be a treasure trove of knowledge, but they were in no place to dawdle.
The next Eluvian brought them back to the waking world, a fortress in the mountains, overrun by Qunari. There, they faced another fresco. And how could she look at this and not see? The figure under the massive white wolf was almost life-sized. According to the nearby notes, this was supposed to be a self-portrait of Fen'Harel. She didn't even need the notes. There was no doubt that these were Solas' brushstrokes, that the shape of this face was so very familiar.
Love had just blinded her three times over.
Once, when she realised that he wasn't just a simple apostate, living alone in the woods, but was instead ages old. Twice, when she claimed he was to Fen'Harel what Abelas was to Mythal. And then thrice…
She wasn't even sure how she felt. Shocked wasn't quite the right word. Frightened wasn't quite it either. Grief, scorn, sorrow… There was nothing there besides the knowledge that if she didn't find him soon, she might very well die from…
Fen'Harel's power, branded on her hand, surged again. "Fenedhis!" she cried between the sparks. Somewhere in the waking world, Leliana and Josephine still tried to stall a senseless meeting with the nobles, as if everything Ennaly had ever believed in wasn't collapsing around her. "We save Ferelden, and they're angry! We save Orlais, and they're angry! We close the Breach twice, and my own hand want to kill me. Could one thing in this fucking world just stay fixed!"
Five shocked faces stared her way, but they were as helpless as she was in calming down the Anchor. Not being able to offer more than consoling words, Dorian wrapped an arm around her.
"We will figure it out," Varric said, panic in his voice. "We always figure it out, it is what we do."
"You are not alone," Cassandra added. "We are right next to you."
Ennaly looked up, and she couldn't be more grateful for the friends she was surrounded with. She was never one to give up. With Dorian's help, she gathered herself and bit back the pain. If not for herself, then at least for the others. "We all knew this was probably our last time out together. Let's make it count, alright?"
"Every step," Dorian said, but the fear in his eyes betrayed his real emotion much more than the smile on his lips. One step at a time was all Ennaly could focus on. Through the fortress, where they freed a dragon.
Ennaly remembered the first night that she had felt a spark for Solas. He had supported her back to her hut, they had jokingly debated what his heroic steed would be. A dragon, she had suggested, but in the end, she decided a wolf was much more his style.
It was a wolf that had nudged her awake in her dream as she lay below Haven on a cold wet cave floor. You do not need statues to converse with your Gods, Solas had said with eyes filled with emotion. During her fight with Anarel, she claimed to belong to the Dread Wolf. Are you disregarding the words to your Gods this easily, Ennaly? Solas had teased in a low voice.
A few days later, he had presented her with a flower just after she made flowers bloom at a statue of the Dread Wolf. He might just give you flowers in return, he had said. There had been a dream, and laughingly, she had said that she thought Solas was Fen'Harel. Yes, vhenan, it is me, he had whispered.
Had she been that blind?
The Qunari woman they had been pursuing stood in front of another Eluvian, and turned to face them. "Elven magic already tore the sky apart. If the agents of Fen'Harel are not stopped, you will shatter the world as well. You cannot deceive me. You would have died from the mark on your hand, but for the help of one of their chief agents. Solas."
The Anchor was calm, for the moment. Ennaly blinked at the woman in front of her, and felt a small smile spread on her face. It seemed like the Qunari didn't know what she now knew. She supposed that was good news, for it meant they would grossly underestimate him.
"Damn it, Chuckles. What have you done?" Varric cursed between his teeth, and a ripple of confusion spread to her friends. Ennaly stood still as a statue, still as the countless frozen Qunari Solas had petrified.
"Bastard," Dorian scoffed with contempt.
"Solas tricked us all," the woman continued. "He pushed a dying Qunari into the Winter Palace, to lure you into opposing us."
Ennaly stared at her, unsurprised by that knowledge, but her knees gave way before she could give a reply. The Anchor flared again and Ennaly looked up through strands of loose hair to see the Qunari woman looming over her, a small smile of victory on her face. "Panahedan, Inquisitor. If it is any consolation, Solas will not outlive you."
From the floor, Ennaly watched the ripples in the Eluvian fall back into their equilibrium. If there was one thing she was certain about, it was that these Qunari stood no chance at all against Solas. For them to think so was downright foolish. They couldn't win, and she was very certain that Solas would outlive her.
At the sound of Bull's footsteps, Ennaly scrambled to her feet and took a few steps back, facing her friends. The Anchor flared more aggressively now, and she needed to keep a distance from them in fear that the sparks would arc too far and hurt them.
Cole spoke softly as Ennaly took another step back. "Solas doesn't want to hurt people. He isn't that kind of wolf. The Qunari don't see."
She gazed at him, wondering why she felt even a little bit of surprise. During one of their evening camps, she had told the story of Fen'Harel and the tree. It is a story, Solas had said. And like most stories, one can likely find both truth and lies woven within the words. Cole had approached her after the story and confused her with his words. "You knew?" she asked.
"Knew what, Kid?" Varric asked.
"Yes," Cole simply stated, staring at Ennaly.
Defeated, she shook her head, but couldn't fully suppress her cry at the next stab of pain. To her horror, she noticed the sparks starting to spread above her elbow. "Well," she said through gritted teeth, clutching her hand. "If you like it or not, we have to find Solas."
"If he truly orchestrated this, I have an entire list of harsh words to say to him," Dorian proclaimed, ignoring Ennaly's attempt at keeping her distance as he supported her. "I also have several spells on my mind I'd like to use. I know his weaknesses."
Ennaly let out a hollow laugh. "He grew more powerful. I doubt any of us would be able to harm him."
"He still bleeds, doesn't he? I've seen him bleed many times after battles," Bull replied, tapping his axe. "No matter your feelings, you realise he tricked you too, don't you? If he was the one to drag that Qunari body into the palace."
She scoffed and leaned on Dorian. "I doubt it's that simple."
"Ennaly, you can stop defending him," Dorian said soothingly. "Just because he helped you all these years with the Anchor, doesn't mean he is without fault."
Are you scared, vhenan? Solas had asked her in a whisper, his voice breaking, while he rolled the wooden bead of Fen'Harel between his fingers.
"We all have our fault," she stated. "And I believe Solas never intended to trick anyone." As a servant of Fen'Harel, you certainly are a good trickster, she had said to him. But she had been wrong, so very wrong. She only said it because she was hurt.
Dorian opened his mouth to speak again, but Ennaly raised her gaze to meet his, and he swallowed back his words at the sight of her eyes.
"Don't you see?" she begged, extracting herself from him. "He's no agent. He's Fen'Harel himself."
Silence met her revelation as four shocked faces gazed at her. Again, Dorian opened his mouth to speak, but closed it a second later, dumbfounded.
"Shit," was all that Varric could say.
"But… He is not a bad wolf," Cole tried. "He tried to help."
"And did something that caused thousands to die," Bull said harshly. "You heard what that spirit thing said in the library. Things went to crap when the magic dried up. I can't believe Solas would ever have done that. He loved magic."
He had clutched at her, in the dark forest. I will make it right, I promise, he had said. I made a mistake, long ago. I meant to help, but instead... People died because of my mistake.
"I'm not sure he meant to," Ennaly said, feeling as if she was gathering the last fragments of strength left to her. "But you all saw the visions. He helped those slaves, set them free, offered them sanctuary."
"Confronting him might be more dangerous than we anticipate," Cassandra said.
"I don't think there'll be any confrontation," Ennaly sighed. "I just need to find him, let him help me with the Anchor, and talk to him. Let's just go. Time is running out."
The Eluvian brought them to a new location, bathed in bright afternoon sun, and for a moment, the Anchor was silent. This place had the same kind of beautiful sorrow that hung over most Elven ruins. Overgrown buildings, luscious greenery, and eroded statues, society reclaimed by nature.
But she couldn't appreciate their surroundings all too long before the Anchor burst again, and Dorian, close to her, fell backwards in the blast. "Stay back!" she cried in desperation, and there was nothing more they could do than oblige.
Another fight, another memory. What had Solas thought, when she had danced around the fire on the Summer Solstice, adding his name to her list, begging for mercy? I am scared, she had confessed. I don't think even you can stand up to a God. A ripple of power had emanated from him. Ennaly, for you, I would stand up to anything.
One more Eluvian, one more surge from the Anchor and the sparks now wrapped around her entire left arm. Solas had taken her Vallaslin, and even at her confession of love, he had stepped back. You have a rare and marvellous spirit. In another world –
Was it this world he meant, the world that now lay crumbled around them?
But finally, the Qunari they chased dwindled in numbers. Ennaly and her friends fought as if it was their last fight, trying to overtake the powerful Saarebas, and only barely stood victorious.
"The power is pulling you apart," Cole muttered, not entirely helpful. Only the Qunari woman was left now, but if they did not find a solution to the Anchor soon, it would pull Ennaly apart.
"Stay back!" she cried again as the Anchor sparked once more and arced erratically around her.
It must have been beautiful, Solas had said about the magic of old, before they shared a dance around a desert lake, before he apologised and stepped back from their embrace. It would be kinder in the long run.
Would it have been? It might have, but then they wouldn't have spent all those wonderful moments together, either. The comfort, the joy, the teasing, their conversation, and their dancing. She wouldn't have wanted to miss anything of it.
Ar lath ma, vhenan.
There were too many people still counting on her to give up now, hopeless as she felt. Just one more step… If she just focussed on that, eventually she would reach the end. She didn't want to accept that death might be close. She didn't want to die, not when there was so much more to live for. And after a deep breath, Ennaly steadied herself and stepped through the next Eluvian.