Solas knocked softly on the door to the Inquisition's ambassador's office.
The Herald of Andraste and her group had returned from Val Royeaux only a few hours ago. Cassandra had gone ahead to speak with the advisors and, shortly thereafter, Elentari had been summoned. Solas, for his part, had used the return to prowl the Chantry in search of Veilfire—without success, it was worth noting. Everything had seemed to settle back into an apparent normalcy when, suddenly, an elven messenger presented himself at the house assigned to him to inform that his presence was required.
The elvhen still remembered, with contempt, the repeated bows the messenger had offered him. Sometimes, in the middle of the daily rush, Solas managed to forget into what shadows his people had turned… elves far too willing to lower their heads, to revere people who had never earned such reverence; servile beings, cynical, devoid of initiative and independent thought.
The memory always tasted bitter.
Because as much as there were moments—brief, isolated—when he allowed himself to relax, or even to feel intrigued by Elentari's presence and her eloquence, the reality of his people asserted itself again. That shadow only reinforced his conviction that elves deserved something better than the present they inhabited… and that only he possessed the knowledge required to grant it.
The door opened, and Josephine received him with a polite smile.
- Oh, Solas—what a pleasure. Please, come in. - She stepped aside, and he inclined his head in greeting.
The apostate entered and felt the door close behind him.
To his surprise, he found the spymaster standing beside Josephine's desk, arms crossed, also wearing an innocently pleasant smile.
He wondered what in the Void this meeting was about and prepared to play his role as best he could: wandering apostate mage, guilty—at least in the eyes of rumor—of killing five templars.
- Good afternoon, Sister Leliana… Lady Josephine. - he said, remaining on his feet while the ambassador moved around her desk and sat where she usually did.
- Please, Solas, there's no need for so much formality. - the spymaster said. - You may sit. I will remain standing.
- I believe I am more comfortable this way. Thank you.
- Oh, please, Solas. You will make me feel embarrassed. - Josephine insisted, and he decided it would be prudent to yield. It was unlikely a wandering apostate would challenge the authority of the two women in front of him.
So he sat.
And he looked at them, expectant.
For once, he wanted them to notice his tension. He knew an investigation had been opened to determine whether he was, in truth, a maleficarum. He did not know the final result, but he assumed it must have been negative. Solas had not used blood magic during the templar attack—nor at any point since joining the Inquisition. The fact that he could perform it only highlighted the deficiencies of the tracking system the Maker's Chantry so proudly touted.
Silence stretched between the three of them long enough to force the mage to break it. He knew interrogation techniques well. And so he chose to pretend he fell into the trap like a distracted vermin.
- Well, then... - he said, lacing his fingers and setting both hands on the desk as he adjusted his posture—feigning that he felt threatened by the women. - To what do I owe my presence in your office, Lady Josephine?
Tense? Yes. Threatened? Not for a moment...
Leliana placed a report in front of him.
- The Inquisition has concluded the investigation into you, Solas. We have determined you are not a blood mage.
He noted the document consisted of several pages and wondered what each one said. He lifted his eyes to the spymaster, performed a careful measure of fear, and took the papers in his hands.
- You are giving it to me… so I may read it? - He sounded entirely innocent.
Leliana smiled. There was no need to pretend so hard—she knew perfectly well that innocent and naive were not words that belonged to him.
Very well. Very well… he had let the messenger's image steer him, just moments ago. He smiled to himself, sardonic.
- Forgive my confusion, Leliana. - he corrected smoothly. - I appreciate the report. It relieves me to know the Inquisition has reached a… sensible conclusion. However, I do not understand why I have been summoned to a private meeting, nor why you are placing it in my hands. Is it customary in this organization to reveal the details of an investigation to the accused?
- Should we not? - Leliana countered. - Does a wandering apostate believe it is better to keep the details of an inquiry—one that concerns him—under lock and key in the hands of those investigating him?
Incisive.
Solas needed to tread carefully.
- I suppose it depends on what we consider an act of transparency... - he said - ...and how deeply you wish to demonstrate your trust.
Josephine intervened gently, eager to blunt Leliana's edge. - The decision to give it to you was mine. - she said. - I considered it appropriate that you read it before any rumor reached you through other means. And… that you read it in our own words.
- A gesture I value. - Solas said, inclining his head. - And I thank you.
But Leliana did not let him continue.
- Page three, second paragraph. - she instructed. - Could you find it for me, Solas?
- Of course.
- 'During the confrontation, the subject generated an unclassified magical disruption that produced a green arcane flare and the physical displacement of the attackers.'
She recited it from memory without looking down.
Did that mean he was in trouble?
Of course not. He had the answers required to mislead them. After all, neither of them was him.
Solas lowered his gaze to the report. His fingertips brushed the paper's edge and, for a heartbeat, his mind flew back to the blizzard, the blood in the snow, the spirits' roar—his loss of control, and the echo of Elgar'nan. And he decided it was not prudent to linger there. He had already yielded to trauma once—and as a consequence, he now sat inside an investigation file. That sort of weakness was unacceptable. Solas knew it. He was meant to be stronger than the fractures of his past.
- A colorful description... - he murmured, lifting his eyes. His voice was more controlled now. - I suppose certain events appear more spectacular when observed from afar… or when one does not understand what is truly happening. - A pause. - I was not aware there had been a visual witness.
- Of course. - Leliana said. - A witness who remained alive.
Solas almost smiled. She was good—she had just forced him to feign discomfort at the idea of having killed people. He had not wished to kill them, naturally. But he would not feel guilt for defending himself.
Leliana watched him without nodding, without blinking away.
Silence stretched—tactical. Solas knew it was his turn to fill the space.
- I employed an advanced technique of arcane projection. - he said. - It is not documented by the Circles, of course… but it is not dangerous in and of itself. It only requires control. And foresight.
Josephine looked relieved by the explanation; Leliana did not soften.
- And you possess both, Solas? - Leliana asked. - Control and foresight?
He inclined his head slightly. - If I did not, five men would still be alive.
He let the line fall with a measured blend of regret and provocation, then continued. - I limited myself to self-defense. Any other conclusion would be… a matter of perspective.
- That is not in question. - Leliana replied. - But I would like a more detailed explanation of this 'arcane projection.'
- I did not realize you were learned in such matters. - Solas countered.
He knew it was a risky move, but he had already been evasive with the Inquisition's commander—and he was certain Cullen had mentioned it to the spymaster. Vomiting everything like a frightened child would not convince the woman interrogating him.
- More than you think... - she said. - Solas.
The mage made a faint grimace and let seconds occupy the space where silence lived. He was making her believe he was considering whether to "confess" something he had already decided to offer as a defensive explanation.
Then he sighed, as if defeated.
- Well. In truth, it is the unique opportunity I have had to manipulate new forms of arcane energy, thanks to the Inquisition's efforts—and the trust it has placed in me… - He spoke without looking directly at either of them, toying with his fingers as if searching desperately for the right words.
The response was… silence.
Solas lifted his gaze—first to Josephine, then to Leliana.
- What happened the night of the attack... - he said - is that I drew upon my knowledge of the rifts, the Veil, and the altered arcane fluctuations caused by the Breach's presence, to obtain energy through the Veil despite the templars' disruption.
He immediately saw a glint in Leliana's expression—she had understood something. Josephine, by contrast, had understood nothing at all. It was obvious.
Solas lowered his gaze as if ashamed of the defense he had chosen.
- The study of rift magic has not had time to spread - he explained - nor to be formalized in academic texts. The Breach is too recent. Until now, we have only been able to learn through practice.
He looked up again before continuing.
- The Fade has found a way to leak into our world. It is visible. Tangible… though only to those mages who know what to observe, and where. - A brief pause. - I know I did not include these details in my report. - he added. - Frankly, I did not believe a scholarly dissertation would be expected of me. But if that is what you desire, I can draft one gladly.
- Are you able to take advantage of the Breach? - Leliana asked.
Solas nodded.
- And Elentari?
- Far more. - he said. - She bears the Mark.
- Is she doing it already?
He shook his head. - She is still learning to master the Mark's power.
- Could you teach her?
- Only if she wishes it. - he answered. - It would be my pleasure.
Leliana's eyes brightened.
- And could you write a detailed report of how you do it? - Josephine asked.
He looked uncomfortable—then nodded.
A performance, of course.
Leliana smiled, satisfied. - Good. Then I suppose with that last detail, we may consider the investigation closed.
- I thought I had already been found innocent.
- Oh, yes... - Leliana replied. - But your detailed description of how those fluctuations of energy in the Fade—provoked by the Breach—manifest and can be used will form the final part of the investigation.
She had phrased it well; despite not being a mage, she was learned in arcane matters. Solas nodded, wondering how much the woman truly knew of magic. He hoped less than the commander—whom he had given nothing precisely because of that.
He looked at the two women, waiting for permission to leave.
Instead, when his attention returned to the ambassador, he saw Josephine cross her legs, shift subtly in her chair, and smile.
The interrogation had not ended.
His patience had.
- How are you, Solas? - Josephine asked. - Cassandra reported upon returning from the capital that she saw no sign of pain or impairment in you during the mission.
- I am very well, Lady Josephine. Thank you for your concern, but it is unnecessary.
- Is there any request you would make of us? - Leliana asked.
- No. - he said. - I am content. Thank you.
- We would like to ensure you do not feel threatened by our templars… - Josephine added.
He understood immediately... the two women were applying a subtle psychological pressure technique—multiple interrogators alternating questions in quick succession, sometimes interrupting each other, never allowing the target space to settle emotionally or logically.
- Threatened by the templars? - Solas repeated—turning her statement into a question on purpose, to expose the angle behind it.
Leliana smiled. She understood the maneuver; he was buying time.
A mental note: he could not appear too adept at this, or he would draw the Nightingale's attention.
Silent birds hunted best… but setting a wolf as a banquet was far too ambitious.
- Oh, of course. Allow me to phrase it better. - Josephine said, smiling with a coquettish grace.
Solas watched her place her hands on the desk and fold them, playing with her long fingers until she rested them on the polished wood.
He admired the women's skill. They were good. Only he was better.
- We would not want to think your view of the Inquisition has been darkened by the unfortunate event days ago. - Josephine continued. - We want to ensure you feel safe among us.
Solas nodded, saying nothing—fully aware that both women accepted the shift. They were answering him now. A false concession of power. The control was an illusion they were sharing.
- If I may answer with honesty…
- I should hope that is what you have been doing this entire time. - Leliana "joked," icy.
The bold, seductive smile she offered did not match the blade in her eyes. Solas met her stare the way he knew how to meet stares—sharp enough to send a chill through bone. He saw her posture change, saw her eyes narrow by a fraction.
- Of course I have answered honestly. - he said. - Or is my word in doubt?
- Should it be?
Leliana had turned the tables—but her turn was, in truth, a lesson. She had used the same evasion Solas had used... taking the last statement and converting it into a question.
The little red bird was good.
- I hope not.
Concise. No room for nuance.
Then silence.
It was the women's turn to break it.
- It is not distrust toward you in particular, Solas. - Josephine said. - Leliana applies the same rigor to everyone. - She laughed lightly… but he knew it remained part of the interrogation. - Do not take it personally, I beg you.
The silence grew beyond what politeness allowed. Solas did not bother to fill it. Josephine had to.
- You asked if you could answer with complete honesty when I questioned you about the Inquisition and your safety. Please—then, with all the honesty you possess—tell us what you truly think. This is a safe place.
With all the honesty he possessed?
How was he meant to explain that he was the owner of the Orb that had killed the beloved Divine—and that he himself had delivered it into the hands of the madman Corypheus? If he did, would this truly be a safe place?
He doubted it.
- I feel safer than I would inside a Circle. - he said. - If that answer is of any use.
The red-haired woman glanced at Josephine and, arms still crossed, shifted just enough to block Solas's line of sight… and her hands as well. Solas caught Josephine's eyes flick to Leliana, saw her resettle in her chair, and then return her attention to him.
Something had just passed between them—a silent signal. Then the ambassador offered him a gentle smile, with no intent to look inquisitive.
- By the way… - Josephine said. - You have been spending quite a bit of time with the Herald lately. Cassandra mentioned she seems… more agitated than usual.
She tilted her head slightly, as if thinking aloud.
- How do you see her, Solas?
Ah.
So that was the game.
Not the report. Not the templars. Not his safety.
It had been her.
It had always been her.
For less than a second, Solas held his breath—then he moved the mana in his blood and corrected every vital sign into ordinary physiological parameters, ensuring nothing betrayed itself in posture, body, or skin.
With deliberate calm, he raised his gaze, feigning absolute control—because the Herald of Andraste's presence in conversation meant nothing to him at all.
- More agitated than usual... - he said slowly. - In what sense?
Evasion again—but this time he genuinely needed time.
- Cullen informed us she appeared deeply affected by the attack you suffered. - Josephine replied.
He did not miss the first mention of the commander. He had almost expected them to bring Cassandra into this part of the dialogue and continue shielding the former templar's figure. Which could only mean one thing... that Cassandra had said nothing about what happened inside the tent.
Good.
Because Solas was not certain he had kept his own mouth shut when he had been drugged.
He sighed.
- Perhaps her reaction was a projected identification... - he said - in response to the possibility that she herself may become the target of such a templar attack in the future.
Leliana's half-smile made it clear that, at least to her, it had not been that at all.
- A possibility. - she allowed.
- And yet... - Josephine said gently. - I believe it was simply… a strong affection our Herald has for you. What do you think?
- That is a question you should ask her. - Solas replied. - Don't you think?
Leliana smiled. Josephine shifted in her chair as if uncomfortable.
- Of course. You are right. Forgive my intrusion.
- I assume, if you raise this topic, you have something you wish to clarify—or advise. - Solas said, letting his blue gaze pass over both women—cold now, and angry. - I am listening.
For the first time, the elven mage crossed his arms and leaned back, wearing a relaxed posture meant to clash with how visibly irritated he was.
Leliana smiled again.
- Oh, there is nothing we wish to clarify or advise, Solas. - she said. - We only wished to know your opinion. But as you rightly note—those questions are best directed to her…
The way she made her sound triggered Solas's internal alarms.
If they questioned Elentari, she would say far more than he ever would. The Herald had not yet learned to conceal any of her emotions—and he remembered perfectly how she had looked at him when he was wounded beside her.
He had to admit it.
The two women had played their cards too well.
Now he would have to train the Dalish girl in the subtleties of interrogation before letting her anywhere near these women's talons.
- Perhaps I will ask her. - the Nightingale declared, and ended the interrogation...