Haven, Kingdom of Ferelden, 9:41 Dragon
When the group of adventurers arrived inside the village of Haven, they witnessed an uprising among the refugees. Elentari arched her brows and looked at Cassandra, the warrior whose constant presence had already become a protective shield for the Herald. The Seeker, for her part, gestured subtly, making it clear that she had no idea what was happening. And so, soaked in dried blood, fatigued and aching, the group ran with determined steps toward the great doors of the Chantry, which were closed, with a good number of rioters—mages and templars—both factions facing each other.
- Your lot killed Her Most Holy! - shouted a soldier clad in worn templar armor.
- Lies! - challenged a man in robes who held a staff. - Your lot let her die! Weren't you meant to protect her?
- Shut your mouth, disgusting mage! - came the templar's reply, as he quickly drew his sword, ready to cut the other man to pieces. Elentari felt the hairs on her body rise as she witnessed how easily they resorted to violence over a simple disagreement. However, before she could intervene to stop them, Cullen stepped ahead of her and placed himself between them, separating them with a hard shove and unquestionable determination in his sharp gaze.
- Enough!
- Knight-Captain... - the templar whispered, and lowered his weapon.
- That is not my title! - the blond shemlen corrected, very annoyed. - We are not templars anymore. Now, we are all part of the Inquisition. All of us! Mages and templars!
- And I would like to know how you intend to manage that... - the voice that rose from within the templar crowd sounded cynical. It was Chancellor Roderick, a member of the Chantry. - I am curious, Commander—how do you plan to fulfill your promise and restore order, you and your Inquisition and your "Herald"?
Elentari felt she should intervene, take the side of the commander of her forces, but when she took a decisive step forward, a claw closed around her forearm, stopping her. She turned, annoyed at her captor, and found the apostate with his gaze fixed on the conflict and an alarmed expression. He gave her only a second of attention and shook his head slightly. For some reason, Solas did not think her intervention was advisable, and though she felt responsible for the turmoil, she was beginning to trust the point of view of that elf and, with a sigh, let him hold her and remain so close to her as if he meant to offer his protection.
Solas held the "Herald" of Andraste because he knew all too well the benefits (and the dangers) that idolatry granted to figures of authority within any religion. In his world, he had not only been Fen'Harel to his people—he had ended up turned into a god, much to his regret, despite his tireless attempts to explain that deities were nothing more than a useful lie. Faith in the god of the Rebellion had persisted beyond all proof, beyond even the truth he had offered.
For centuries, Solas had been commander of armies, king of vast lands, an Evanuri... and, finally, a deity. And the elf he now held was beginning, without knowing it, to be surrounded by the same grand, ambiguous, dangerous narratives he knew far too well. Her exotic appearance, her origin, her mark... everything could take on shades of divinity in the wrong eyes. And that was a threat in an environment of religious fanatics who saw her not as a miracle, but as a living insult to their beliefs—incapable of recognizing the greatness he was beginning to detect in the spirit of the young Dalish woman.
That was why... and because of an impulse he did not allow himself to fully analyze, when Solas noticed the Herald was about to intervene, he was forced to stop her, despite his deep conviction in free will. He repeated to himself that he did it because Elentari still did not understand that her intervention would have unleashed chaos. Those templars not only believed in a god whose face she challenged; they also saw her as the embodiment of everything they feared and despised within Andrastianism: a mage—and worse, one who had not been educated in a Circle.
However, when he perceived the look she gave him (and the almost immediate trust she placed in him) Solas grew uncomfortable. Not only because days earlier she had confronted him, but because the Herald had taken a step toward him, seeking him as refuge.
He did not want to analyze the reason. But he knew himself well enough to recognize, deep down, that that vote of confidence had awakened in him a budding desire to protect her. And Solas, when he protected, was sometimes incapable of seeing limits.
It was Cullen who took charge of calming the masses and returning them to their places. The man inspired loyalty and respect, even among mages, and that was a powerful trait in the commander.
When the uprising had been quelled, Solas noticed that Cullen and that Chantry brother remained facing each other, arguing, while Cassandra stepped forward and joined them. Now that tempers had calmed, it was feasible for the Herald to approach them without danger.
- Herald, please, be more prudent when it comes to uprisings, all right? - he tried to tell her in an authoritative tone; however, his voice came out almost as a whisper. She looked back at him and those expressive eyes seemed to show gratitude for his concern.
He decided to release her and keep to the sidelines. He reminded himself of what he had told Varric earlier, that she did not require his counsel and that her path was solitary. Not with him.
- Why? - the elf turned and faced him. The set of her posture made it clear that Solas had just earned her full attention; Elentari did not even seem interested in the discussion unfolding in front of them. - What would have happened if I had meddled, Solas?
- Religions claim that the laws of the world they govern are ordained by an absolute and supreme authority...
- The Maker... - she murmured, and Solas nodded.
- Yes. The Maker, in the Andrastian creed spread by the Chantry, functions as a fixed point, a source of unquestionable authority. And you... you represent a threat to that structure.
- Not just me—the Inquisition.
- Exactly. Besides, they consider you the Herald of their prophet... and the Inquisition, as a fledgling organization tasked with restoring order to chaos, does not yet possess enough power to act as a shield against what you represent to believers. - Solas paused. - That is why it is dangerous for you to involve yourself openly in disputes when there are religious fanatics arguing apparent truths that, in the end, do not even answer to objective realities, because their foundation is faith, not evidence.
The woman fell silent, weighing his words. He only watched her, while inside his mind he reminded himself that he had just said he should not interfere—and that was precisely what he was doing: he was confessing realities only he knew, due to his very condition as elvhen.
- I must take our visit to Val Royeaux seriously, to meet with the priestesses... - the Herald whispered, understanding the depth of what he had just told her.
- Indeed. Only remember that when laws are attributed to the sky, any dissent becomes heresy. There is no dialogue possible with faith—only obedience... or rebellion. - and, to his surprise, she directed her attentive gaze back to him. It was only a second, but those yellow eyes seemed to shine after hearing him say that; Solas felt curiosity and wished he could enter the inside of her thoughts and understand the reason for that shine.
They stared at each other... and time passed, though it seemed to stop. Then, she smiled at him warmly.
- Thank you, Solas. Your counsel always invites me to reflect. - now it was she who placed a hand on his arm, but unlike the apostate's grip, Elentari gave him a soft caress that sent a subtle current of electricity through his body. He did not take his eyes off her, feigning absolute control before the woman... but why had his skin just reacted that way to her touch? Something related to the ancient bond of her Anchor, perhaps?
- I'm glad to have been of help, Herald.
When the Dalish woman turned her back and headed toward the commander, Varric approached the elf and looked at him with a half-smile. Solas shifted his gaze to the dwarf and felt very annoyed, aware that he had witnessed the conversation with the elf woman. However, true to his capacity for self-control, he completely concealed any sign of disconcertion and faced Varric with his implacable stare.
- Child of the Stone...
- Excellent, Chuckles. Your counsel was very sound. You stopped the little one from making a mistake and setting off a riot.
And with that half-smile, somewhat mocking, the dwarf walked away with an amused air. Solas watched him in silence and understood that, to his regret, he had followed the dwarf's advice. He had just gotten involved, when he should not have...