Storm Coast, Kingdom of Ferelden, 9:41 Dragon
Early in the morning, the Herald of Andraste had departed with her party to meet a warrior known as the Iron Bull, who had offered his aid to the Inquisition along with his group of mercenaries, the Bull's Chargers.
In Solas's opinion, the place where they stood was breathtaking in its views. The vast stretch of sea along the coast granted a sense of freedom that was almost suicidal… as if it were inviting him to step into its immensity and let himself sink into it until life fled his lungs. Could an Evanuri drown? It seemed unlikely. It sounded more like a promise of eternal torment…
Fortunately, such ruminations could be interrupted if he focused instead on the cold rain lashing against his face, soaking his clothes, and the violent wind wrapping around him, reminding him that, despite everything, he was still alive. Still here. Here, where his enemies were not, and where the Vir'abelasan had begun to murmur. A new world, in a new disaster… one in which, more often than not, he felt he did not deserve to exist.
It was difficult not to fall into that kind of thinking from time to time when war had passed through you as it had through him. When the weight of so many deaths, the memory of so many beloved beings, piled up in the mind, it became inevitable to ask why one continued breathing when so many others did not. All the more so when, before one's eyes, stretched a sea as vast and magnificent as the one beneath that rainy morning.
It was brutal, and it was beautiful. As brutal and beautiful as being able to witness a new world…
At times, he could scarcely believe it.
He had never thought that anything could exist beyond his world. But it was logical, wasn't it? Surely the Sha-Brytol had thought the same… perhaps even the Titans… and yet, they had come. The elves.
And now…
…Solas shifted his attention to Elentari…
They… the beings of Thedas.
Elentari stood some distance away, visibly separated from the others, engaged in a private conversation with the leader of the Qunari group—a massive man with gray skin, an eye patch, and horns curving outward from the sides of his head. By contrast, she was small in both height and build; it almost seemed ironic that she was the famed (or infamous) Herald of Andraste.
Amid the heavy rain, he saw her cross her arms and discreetly rub one of them. He knew at once that she was trying to preserve her body heat, all the while ensuring that the gesture conveyed confidence and determination. That drew a smile from him. Then she gave a slight shake of her head, just enough to brush the water from her face, and forced herself to remain firm and imposing before the Qunari. But the tension in her legs betrayed her.
The Qunari warrior, by contrast, appeared completely unconcerned. He sat with his legs spread, one forearm resting atop a thigh, watching her closely, letting no detail escape him. He was assessing her, most likely.
Elentari would do well. She had an effective way of presenting herself as confident in the power she carried in her palm, while at the same time remaining open to diplomacy as a first option. Much like Josephine, she was charming, courteous, and eloquent. That combination immediately planted doubt in anyone who faced her. Was it wise to challenge her outright… or was it more prudent to proceed with caution? More often than not, people chose diplomacy; the legends of her victories were already being sung in taverns, each one exaggerating the details to the point of impossibility.
Once again, Elentari shook her head because of the rain, yet remained steady. Later, he would have to teach her how to use residual energy from the environment to deflect environmental adversities from her body without expending large amounts of power. She was already showing the aptitude to begin handling arcane currents with greater delicacy.
Solas found himself smiling as he watched her. Why was he doing that? Had she managed to deceive him as well? No. It was not deception. Quite the opposite—the smile came because Elentari allowed him to see her essence without masks and gave him space to guide her learning. She relied heavily on his knowledge, sought his guidance, and trusted (perhaps too much, if one asked him) in what he told her. That was why he took care not to play excessively when revealing information to her. He tried to be as honest as his own agenda allowed, and to give her tools that would truly be useful… even knowing, with painful clarity, that those same tools might one day become an obstacle to himself. But he believed in her authenticity, and that was something he valued deeply. It was a shame to have met her in this world; in another, perhaps, they would have fought for the same cause.
- Chucles. - he felt the tug on his tunic as Varric gave him a light shake. - Harding mentioned a group of Grey Wardens in the area. Might be worth investigating.
Solas looked at him and nodded. The dwarf crossed his arms, prompting him to raise a brow.
- Want us to handle it? Just the two of us? Without the Herald?
- Well, our little one has grown up too fast - Varric joked. - She can take care of herself now. Let's take a look.
Unexpectedly, some rough sounds flooded the area. Solas and Varric turned, and Solas was already lifting his mage's staff and drawing energy from the Fade to place a barrier between them, in case they were under attack…
…but no.
- But what in the Void…? - the dwarf spat. - Are you seeing the same thing I am? - Solas nodded. - Are those mercenaries opening barrels with their axes? - Another nod. Varric burst into laughter. - You know what? I like the dirty, rebellious style. Let's get closer…
- Do you know anything about them, Master Tethras?
- Nothing more than you do. Let's go over there and find out. - the dwarf said as he moved ahead easily; Solas followed. - We could ask Leliana about these 'Chargers'—I'm sure she has information. - Solas nodded. - What I can tell you from here is that it's a very diverse group, wouldn't you say?
- You mean because it's led by a Qunari and includes members of every race?
- Exactly. See? I knew you weren't blind…
Solas rolled his eyes where Varric couldn't see him.
Varric wasn't annoying—quite the opposite. His wit was sharp enough that Solas enjoyed it. And that was the problem… because he… well, he had destroyed his own people in the past, and so he felt somewhat out of place when the dwarf approached him with such warmth and struck up clever conversations, making him feel at ease.
He sighed. Enough pessimism for one day. He couldn't keep this up.
Yes, he was the dreaded Fen'Harel, god of lies and treachery to these people… and, for better or worse, that was precisely what he was doing: betraying them and deceiving them.
Why had he begun to feel guilt?
It didn't matter. It was time to accept that yes, indeed, he was deceiving them and would betray them. He had to stop turning it over in his mind. It was for the good of this world, even. They would gain nothing from the power of the Blight unleashed. Even less from Elgar'nan, free and unstoppable, ruling over all.
The thought did nothing to help. It didn't improve his dark mood.
- Hey! - Varric called out, raising his voice and quickening his pace. Solas chose to continue walking slowly. Better to observe from a distance first, get involved later.
One of the humans had a foot propped up on a wooden barrel. His armor, soaked by the rain, was of good quality and bore numerous marks of battle—old blows that had clearly been repaired at more than one forge. Warriors generally preferred that kind of worn armor over pristine sets. Only kings tended to wear armor without a single dent, and that often meant they were kings who did not stand at the forefront of danger alongside their people. To a warrior, a brand-new suit of armor could feel almost like an insult, as it made him look like a wealthy lord unfamiliar with the battlefield.
The axe embedded in the barrel's wood, however, was too small to be his usual weapon. If it were, he'd be wasting its edge on something as mundane as hacking open a barrel… unless, of course, he carried a whetstone with him, which was the most likely case.
When he heard Varric's voice, the human yanked the axe free. A foamy liquid spilled from inside the barrel and immediately mingled with the rain. Beer, almost certainly. Without any subtlety whatsoever, the man bent over the barrel and brought his mouth to it as if drinking from a spring.
Well… manners were clearly not his strong suit.
Solas smiled when he realized that such a thought was, in fact, the kind a wealthy lord might have—but not one ignorant of the battlefield. On the contrary, it was the thought of a veteran. Even so, despite having always moved among the powerful of his time, Solas had also known the lowest hardships of elven life, as well as its injustices. He had not only endured the kind of hunger that seems to devour your very insides and drive you toward delirium, but had also suffered kidnappings, tortures… and many other injustices that were beside the point. Enough pessimism for the day; it wasn't wise to pile on more. His head already ached.
Varric reached the group and said something he couldn't quite hear. Solas spotted two humans nearby—one blond, the other dark-skinned and older. There was also a dwarf and an elf bearing the vallaslin of Dirthamen on her face, in addition to the one drinking from the barrel.
At last, Solas reached the Bull's Chargers.
- …that bastard? - the one who'd drunk first was saying. Now the dark-skinned human was doing the same, while the Dalish elf beside him watched with a hint of disdain, and the blond human produced a horn from some hunted beast to offer Varric something to drink from. The dwarf wasted no time filling it with beer and raising it in a toast before drinking. - That horned idiot is the best soldier you'll find around here.
- That's how you refer to your leader? - Solas could no longer tolerate such insubordination. What was this soldier's problem?
The human crossed his arms and stared straight through him.
- Oh, right, I forgot to lick his horns, didn't I? Or would you recommend doing it with his ass?
- If that's your habit… I won't object. And I'm not here to give you recommendations.
- His name's Krem. - Varric cut in. - And this is our group's apostate. Solas. And yes, he's pretty grumpy.
- More like another bastard... - Krem added.
Solas looked at him with a half-smile, haughty, and crossed his arms as well. The human didn't flinch. It was obvious he was used to getting into trouble. Well, luck tended to run out eventually. Solas could become his last problem—but the truth was, today he simply felt deeply fatalistic. It wasn't the boy's fault.
- Krem! - a booming voice sounded from behind. - Tell the others to finish drinking on the way. We've just been hired!
The insubordinate one turned and shouted back. - And how do you want us to carry the barrels, boss? On your horns? - Solas snorted; Varric laughed. - We just opened them!
The Iron Bull and Elentari approached the group, both completely soaked.
- And how should I know? - the Qunari replied. - You're Tevinter, right? Try blood magic!
Was he a Tevinter mage?
- At least I know who my mother is… - Krem shot back.
Oh no… it had just been a joke.
A Tevinter working for a Qunari. Novel.
Elentari came to his side and stopped close to him.
- You hired them? - Solas leaned slightly toward her and whispered once she was near.
- Josephine handled it, actually... - she replied, arms crossed, trying to suppress her shivering. He expanded his spiritual shield and covered her with his magic.
Elentari felt it and turned her face toward him; Solas confirmed it with a nod. - Thank you. - she murmured, then turned her attention to the Bull. - You know, he's a Qunari spy. He told me himself, without my using any interrogation techniques…
Solas smiled.
So, a Qunari spy. Hmm… interesting.
Another spy on the team. He would have to tread carefully. On the other hand, that was good news. Now he would have to apologize to that Krem and find a way into their inner circle… surely they'd have some interesting information from the north.
- Well, they certainly know how to draw attention.- he said. She smiled and nodded.