Fadestrider

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March 17th, 2024



Gender: Male
Age: 28
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Country: United States

Signup Date:
October 06, 2017

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[ This blog post is private ]

10/02/2018 03:37 PM 

A Random IC Interview
Current mood:  accomplished


1. What is your name?

My name is Solas.  *smiles proudly*

2. What is your real name?

*Blinks*  Excuse me?  ….Um, no… I mean to say, Solas, always has been and always will be my name.  I may have been called a few questionable things in the past, and some I may even answer to -- but I am still forever Solas.   If you’d like, I could go into detail of why this is so--?

3. Do you know why you were called that?

Oh, you do wish to know!  Very well.  It’s a name I took for myself.  Where I am from, that was our custom as we grew into adulthood and throughout our later stages in life.  We took names that linked to attributes in which we chose to put our entire being into following.  In my language, the word “Solas” means “Pride,” so therefore it is my statement to the world that I am the embodiment or an extension of Pride itself.  This is because, I am prideful in myself and over everything that I represent.  It would be similar to someone naming their child after an attribute that they believe would express them the best.  For example; the name Joy or Justice or Grace or Chance.

4. Are you single or taken?

I am single but not always alone.

5. Have any abilities or powers?

Yes.  I am a mage, but I don't normally exploit my abilities for senseless endeavors.  So, please don't ask me to use my magic to clean the floors or wash dishes.  Things like that are a waste of my talent.

6. Stop being a Mary Sue.

Stop making assumptions of me.

7. What’s your eye color?

Grey.

8. How about your hair color?

*Laughs and rubs his bald head.*  If I had any?  Brown.

9. Have you any family members?

Sadly, none related by blood.  I am somewhat still finding my place in the current world before connecting with others.

10. Oh? What about pets?

I don’t really keep pets, but I am fond of animals.  All except for ravens…  I believe I may have mentioned as much, once before in a previous questioning.  

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

Something that I don't like Sincere Ignorance and Conscientious Stupidity.  Such things have brought down Empires, if given enough power.

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?  

I enjoy exploring ancient ruins, painting, mulling over the philosophies of wisdom and truth.  I’m a very quiet individual.  I keep to myself more often than most times, and I read.  A lot.

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

*smiling falters*  It's possible.  

14. Ever… killed anyone before?

*sighs*   If I were to make any confessions to you, we would be here a very long time.

15. What kind of animal are you?

For some reason I have--once or twice--been associated with wolves.  It's mostly from the Dalish.  They fear wolves but at the same time respect them, and while to most I would be considered an unwanted outsider they usually are or would become aware of my magical talent.  So, they tend to equally keep their distance from me and maintain their superstitions.

16. Name your worst habits.

I would say… my stubbornness and perhaps my curiosity.  I used to be arrogant and at times showed a bad temper.  However, I am older now and for the most part, I believe I have learned to cope better.

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

I used to…  I suppose in some ways, I still do.  So… Yes.

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

Who?  *Blinks curiously*  The one I looked up to?  It was a Spirit.  Spirits have no gender to define them and therefore cannot define sexual preferences for themselves.  Even though the gender that it tried to portray itself to be was, in fact, a human female it was not a definition of what it was.  


*leans forward and rests his hands to the table*   In most cases… Spirits have a tendency to...reflect their image into what others would either consider that Spirit to be or of what that Spirit strongly feels that it wishes to become.  


For example, I can look at my hand and no matter how strongly I wish for it to extend and grow feathers -- no matter how delusional or great in number that other people would possibly view my arm as bird’s wing -- I will never be able to fly.  


However with Spirits, their entire manifestations are as interchangeable and lucid as water.  Their forms can change on a whim from another's point of view or even themselves, if they truly believe.  That is where the problem in their transformations remain; although in conclusion the complications of Gay, Straight, or Bisexual are just as equally nonexistent for them.  They are Spirits.

*Still is being stared at and so Solas rolls his eyes.*  


Although, if you’re referring to me…?  I have a stronger tendency to find my psychological and physiological preference lean towards elven women--but only if my mind can even be stimulated through conversation.


19. Do you go to school?

*smiles proudly*  No.  There is nothing any institution can teach me that I have not already learned on my own, and I have learned far more than what they could offer.

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

Honestly?  I don't believe either option is even one available to me.  I’m not in a position where I could ever see myself settling down, and dating --in general-- is by far the last priority on my mind.  Suffice to say that children may never be in my future.  That does not mean I find either idea abhorrent.  They are just not goals that I would see myself intentionally striving to achieve.

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

Doubtful.  Highly doubtful.

22. What are you most scared of?

My biggest fear is dying alone; to be the last of my kind and carrying that with my death that would ensure the eradication of my species’ heritage.  It is one weight I do not wish to be placed on my shoulders, even when I strive to challenge that fear every time I march into battle.  I am not one to hide from danger, and death in itself is not a fear for me.  It is the blame.

23. What do you usually wear?

Dorian and Vivienne would both call it the ‘hobo attire,’ but I believe I have upgraded.  I’ve added silveritte armor to protect me against physical damage and a fur pelt to keep me a little more warm.

24. Do you love someone?

Love is abstact and boundless in its forms and perceived limits.  With that said, I love greatly and many.

25. What's their name?

As I said, I love many beings under many forms of the notion of ‘love,’ and therefore, if I were to sit here and name off each and everyone under the specific form of love that I have for them then we would be here quite a while.

26. When was the last time you wet yourself?

Is this a serious question, or is something Sera insisted to be asked?

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

When one first sees me, usually I am labeled as an elven apostate.  So that would automatically assume me to being of the Low Class… … But it is amazing how far someone without social ties can climb that ladder of hypocrisy.

28. How many friends do you have?

I believe I have more allies than necessarily friends.  There are extremely few people to who I truly confide in when I need to.

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

‘Pi’ is the circumference of a circle divided by its diameter.  The number is often equal to 3.14159 when one follows the formula accurately.  


There is also ‘pie’ that can be a versitile and tasty treat.


30. Favorite drink?

Hot Chocolate.  It takes a while to make and the ingrediants are usually hard to come by, but it is perfect during a cold evening.

31. What’s your favorite place?

The Fade.  Anything and everything I could ever wish for remains at my fingertips.  It is an answer for me should I choose to search for something to learn, for entertainment, or both because learning can be fun.

32. Are you interested in someone?

This question seems a little redundant...

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

Oh, for-- Really?  If I had known we were going to turn this into a fiasco I would not have entertained this from the start.

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

I’d prefer to swim in the lake.  The area is usually more secluded and if and when I would like to do so, there are plenty of spirits to talk to when I meditate in such a place.

35. What’s your type?

*face-faults and his ears lower*  And here, I thought I made it clear that I am not exactly dating material…  *sighs and closes his eyes briefly*   ...Alright.  My type…  None.

36. Any fetishes?

*Is actively ignoring the question and reaches for a heavy mug of some unknown liquor to drink.*

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

While I like to think that I can compromise within reason…  I prefer to maintain control.  Mostly.  But I’m not certain of the relevance to this question.

38. Camping or indoors?

Just because I’m an elf does not mean that I enjoy the outdoors--but--I enjoy the outdoors.  So.  Camping.

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

Not necessarily.  Although, I would appreciate it if we were to refrain any questions of my personal sexuality or vices.  Reflections of such are… well those can be complicated and uncomfortable to openly discuss with just anyone.

40. Now it’s over!

A pity.

[ This blog post is private ]

09/08/2018 03:22 PM 

Rules
Current mood:  accomplished




1)PATIENCE REQUIRED: I tend to write a lot; especially if I am excited with what I am writing about. This may take time (days/maybe even a week!) in recieving anything from me because I have plenty other pages to respond to as well. I have listed of what I prefer in the panel to the far right of this profile. Sufficed to say, I do not tolerate one-liners.

2)DON'T STEAL EDITS: Self-explainatory. Either I or someone else has worked hard on them. 

3)NO OOC DRAMA: I will not tolerate it. Even if I see it in status, I will delete you. In character drama is fine, of course, but let's keep a distinciton between those two things. 

4) RELATIONSHIPS ARE OPEN. ALWAYS OPEN: First thing you should know: This is roleplay and not real. I am not seeking to date anyone through this site. In real life, I am happily married. I am just here to write. 
In character, Solas is only attracted to FEMALE ELVES(however to a certain degree, he may flirt with other female races) and he is not an over-expressive individual when it comes to romance. He is "grim and fatalistic"--therefore, if(and only if) romance even occurs then expect angst and a lot of it. It may not be satisfactory... 

5)I WELCOME AND REACT TO DOUBLES/DOPPLEGANGERS: There is always an explanation in the storyline for something like this; especially since time travel can be involved. In addition to that, if I end up with 50 Inquisitors of different races to respond to then so be it! (As long as they are all multi-para to novella.) Other people should not get upset about this choice since they are all recieving a similar response in my character's behavior.



6)OTHER CAUSES FOR DELETION: Instructing me on how to write my response (--either you want to rp with how I am, or you don't.) // If I send a starter without recieving a response back after four to six weeks and, especially if its clear you have been active with no reasonable excuse not to respond back. // Constant "Add Page" posts and no writing productivity shown. // No sl replies after a month. Basically, if the roleplay stops. I am here to write//  *7 Days* is all the time I am going to allow new adds to reply to Discussions, to avoid my deletions. // Rules are not being followed or acknowledged in the slightest. 

7)ONCE I DELETE you, I WILL NOT ADD YOU BACK: You only have one chance with me most of the time. Keep trying to re-add and you will be blocked.

08/28/2018 06:54 PM 

Waking Up **Very Short**
Current mood:  drunk



 
Fade way to the wicked world we left
and I become the dark of you.
Say a prayer for the wounded heart within
as I become the dark of you.
Let Go.
When all has come to life
we live, we breathe, we die.
They call me to the light,
forever lost in time.
~Song: The Dark of You
~Breaking Benjamin

With the sound of thunder rang loudly in his ears, his grey eyes snapped open. A sudden pain struck in his chest and spread rapidly through every fiber of his being. It felt as though his blood boiled with hot magma and scorched its path all the down each microscopic blood vessel in his physical form. The pain. It was just too great. Each rise in his chest felt heavy. The air he breathed in felt slow and cold, as though he were breathing in the very snow off of a mountain. Then in a rush, that very same breath escaped him with horrid sounds that followed. He had not recollected since he started to holler, but somehow he knew that the foreign voice filling the darkness with its pain-stricken agony was his own…And he could not stop it.

Darkness. There was nothing more challenging than the empty dark. The silent, empty darkness; with only one’s own thoughts left to ponder into nothingness. No light to ease the fears. No one to hold or confide in. What greatness he knew, what expectations he had; it had all faded away. It was swallowed up by the empty, unforgiving and everlasting abys. It was clear that he was alone with nothing but pain to console him. This had been it. The worst fear: Dying Alone. He was carrying all that he knew of his people with his final death and failing to keep the truth and the history of his world remembered. Such a fear for any race would be terrifying. Not just because of his death, but the failure and extinction that was carried with it. To make it worse, he carried this with knowing that He was to blame.

Something touched his face and he was startled; twisting his head away and shifting his hollering more into screaming. He screamed from the pain pulsing through his sunken form. He screamed to hopefully scare away whatever it was that touched his face. It quickly turned painful into that panic. He screamed because his screams were the only sound he could hear and he feared if he didn’t hear anything that he would lose his mind next. The thunder echoed from deep in his ears, past his own voice; as though it was more heard from within his own mind. His arms moved, frightening himself more until his hands trailed down his shoulders and his arms to finally realize that there was nothing there. What had been touching him was only his own hands. His own fingernails…and then he came to realize that his fingernails had actually grown enough to scratch him.

There was a moment of relief then, a certain relief that caused him to laugh at himself—his own fright—and what followed came softer hollers. Solas traced his hands back over his face once more to feel the scars of the vallaslin, the fresh scratches of new blood and the mark where the All-Father, Elgar’nan, struck his forehead with a golden enchanted spear. Truthfully, the only thing that felt foreign to him was the vallaslin, and this was only because the markings were new – or rather, the markings were new on His face. Solas swallowed back a sob and closed his eyes for a moment as he traced the patterns of the tree symbol. Mythal’s symbol. He envisioned in his mind of the shape that stretched all across his forehead. Memories flooded his mind as fast as his racing pulse that pushed the fiery blood in his veins. He gritted his teeth as tears streamed down his face; just to endure those flashes of images.

The Evanerus. Mythal’s Murder. The All-Father burning the brand of his wife onto Solas. He remembered every event that brought it up to that point that was well over a melinia of war. He remembered it all so vividly. So clearly… And then he remembered the voice of Mythal, asking him to come.

That’s right.

She wanted him here. She called to him from beyond the Fade and forced his blood to rush. She forced the air into his lungs and pulled him with her magic--pulled him into the physical and solid form that was his body. Unfortunate that it was against the will of the All-Father, Elgar’nan. Unfortunate that Mythal could never ease the suffering of going against her own religion’s commands. Commands that would have kept such ‘sentinels’ to sleep until there was a need of their services. It was unfortunate that there was no other way Mythal’s will could be done. So, the Dread Wolf must rebel. Again.

That made more sense to everything, and it calmed his thoughts a little. The pain and the darkness was from his own tomb. He was cursed to serve Mythal in this manner. Because no one could kill him, he was sentenced to sleep--and because a calling that was faded from time, forced him against the unconscious command --and against his own wishes--his body reacted to the insubordination with pain. The pain was so sudden and so intense, for it was like waking up to a strike of lightening through every nerve ending of the body. His skin still felt pins and needles prickling in vain across muscles and softened flesh that remained stubborn just to sleep.

Of course this also proved another point. He was not dead or stumbled in his path to have suddenly been locked away in some other part of the Fade. Solas was still very much alive after the huge explosion that destroyed everything he knew and held dear. After centuries upon centuries of searching the Fade and feeding his thirst for what knowledge he could acquire in dreams.

Solas tried to focus on the spell to remove the markings from his face. He had to pull the energies from memory and do this spell. He knew it well. When slaves came to him tired and weak, they begged to him for sanctuary away from their cruel and abusive gods. They begged for freedom and Solas created a reputation for himself in those days, to remove those markings and free those people in the hopes that they would join with him. It had been so long ago but none of this was forgotten.

As the blue light formed over his face, Solas could hear and feel his own flesh beginning to burn. The sickening tang of seared skin filled his nostrils just as the sting of a forced rejection damaged his face. There was no denying that he was out of practice after such a long slumber but if he was to ever leave this tomb, then he must remove markings that would—and could—influence him. However, since he had not done this spell in a long time, it was not a perfected cast. Though when, at last, he felt the soothing after effects cool against his skin, the feeling of molten magma pushing hot through his veins, quickly began to subside.

The pain was finally going away. It was beginning to get easier to breathe. He was relieved from any commands of a Sentinel. It was freedom and it never felt so much at peace.

Rivers of tears streamed down the sides of his face then. He felt reborn. Clean. It was just as he had given the same feeling to other slaves from so long ago. Solas was free from the influence of another and he was alive. The air --though dusty-- smelled in some way sweeter and his skin felt cool to the touch. Despite how much he screamed and wept moments ago, now he was laughing from the bubbled joy that mixed with that sorrow. It might have sounded as though the darkness may have driven him mad but it was far from the truth. He was never more sane in his long life!

“Mythal....” He mumbled. His voice raw and dry from disuse. He started to wipe away the tears, and blindly smear away the traces of blood and cold sweat from his forehead. “....Ir abelas.”

Even after so long, Solas was still rebelling against the will of the Pantheon – or rather, the will of the Evanerus -- and this time he wasn’t even trying that hard. His only true regret in this ‘rebellion’—if one could still call it such-- was that doing so was a just as much a disservice to Mythal as it was a service in contrast to The People. It would not matter how much he apologized to her now, but Solas still did. In this awakening, he was to become her vengeance and salvation against the world. This was because the damage he had done was too great and he knew that.

He sighed then; for a moment just relaxing and preparing his body to move. Everything still felt sore and so very weak. He didn’t need light within this tomb to know that his body was probably malnourished and lacking muscle. The sickening feeling of nausea churned and tumbled within his stomach; reminding him of the hunger for food. He felt as though he could consume the quantities of a dragon’s feast, but the nausea settling so strongly in him would quickly disagree what his mind fantasized. He needed to leave this place and rest on his thoughts of Mythal. Otherwise, such melancholy would quickly consume him before he would even move.

For it was difficult not to think of the woman who had first protected him and now summoned him. He could not help but to wonder if there may have been fragments of her soul locked away somewhere behind eluvians …or perhaps within other souls…? Did he even have time to find her? He did not know. He needed to get his bearings. Needed to ‘move’ and this body felt so slow for one that had just awoke. He could only wonder if she would have waited for him somehow. If he could just find her and reach her—but no. Priorities were what remained important. First, he needed to find where the foci was. He could look for traces of Mythal much later.

As weak and tired that he was, Solas knew it would take everything in his concentration to attempt in sitting up. He took another sigh, trying this time to concentrate on his hearing. There was nothing to answer him but the lingering thunder that echoed still. Whether or not this had still been in his mind, from the clash of when he last had used all of his magic, he did not know nor did it seem of much importance as moving at been. His senses were stripped raw, with no direct path that even his sensitivity could detect. His muscles were slow to move. He could feel ligaments shifting and threatening to twist and pull if Solas did not move slow enough. The struggle against gravity was more of a challenge than he remembered as well. He pressed weight against his wrists and tried to use them for balance. His head was spinning the further that he rose but he pushed onward. He pushed and hissed from each movement until at last, his efforts had paid off.
He moved.

[ This blog post is private ]

01/19/2018 01:23 PM 

Questions for Solas
Current mood:  accomplished

1)What's your name?
    My name is Solas.

2)What's your age?
  I believe I'm old enough.

3)What's your gender?
    I'm  ...wait... Yes.  I'm a male. 

4)Why are you such an ass?
    Because in Skyhold, there is literally nothing to drink except booze, tea, or coffee.  Any juice sent there would ferment by the time it reaches Skyhold, and the milk would turn sour.  So, I end up having to choose between staying constantly drunk which does nothing to further my progress in my studies of the Fade, or instead to drink tea or coffee which happen to be stimulants that prevent sleep.  I suppose, I could drink distilled snow so long as I steer clear of any that is yellow... 
So...  To sum this up, I am an ass because I am thirsty... and because the Spymaster's ravens continue to squawk and leave droppings inches from my head.  I'm getting to where I hate ravens...

5)Do you want a relationship?
     Honestly?  ...Not really.  Relationships are complicated and they hurt.

6)What kind of music do you listen to and what's your favorite song?
       There was an instrument that I once knew.  It was an ivory instrument carved with bone, gems and a fusion of magic.  This instrument was called "rodhesil," which in basic terms, it is roughly translated to "flavor-mind."  So, the best description is the taste of the composer's thoughts.  It would play not only the music, but the emotions of the composer and with it, the song would display illusions for an audience to watch.  Countless stories were made by this old instrument, but it does not exist anymore and neither do the stories.  Though, I suppose now, I would have to reminisce on what songs that current Dalish have recovered.  Of course, most are not accurate but still, a few can be catchy.  Though this may sound foolish or repetitive for one like me to answer, I believe I enjoy the common Dalish lullaby the best.

7)What's your favorite book and why?  
     Hard in Hightown--**cough**--because Varric says so.


8)Do you believe in love at first sight and have you ever experienced it?
       No, I don't and no I haven't.  It's very difficult to determine sometimes of whether or not a person would even be suited for another just from the judgement of a glance.  A glance can say many things, but its all right in the present.  A person's looks now could have absolutely nothing to do with their future.  Let's analyze exactly of what you are asking, then...  "Could this individual be with 'me,' stay with 'me,' and endure 'me' for the rest of 'my' long existence?  Could this individual bare my children --or be completely content if I am opposed to the very notion?"   To decide this of someone right at a glance is far too selfish of anyone to do.


9)What is the funniest way you have ever been asked out?
        I remember an old Dalish proverb, "A thorn in the heel is best pulled by the teeth."  There was an elven woman, I knew once who was extremely bold with her delivery but she sometimes would get the rhythm of the native languages mixed up when she spoke.  She invited me out to a clover patch to go "pumpkin," only... of course, I didn't know what she meant because I didn't associate the word "pumpkin" as a verb....  **smirks a little**  ....Until we got to the clover patch.

10)What do you do for a living?
      Aside from traveling with the Inquisition?  ...Dorian would call me a hobo!  At times, I make and sell authentic elven trinkets --**cough, cough**---to merchants willing to buy them...but mostly... yes... Dorian would have the correct summary of my lifestyle.

11)What do you enjoy doing?
        I enjoy sleeping... wandering the Fade...  searching ancient ruins, speaking with spirits, and learning new discoveries that haven't been touched for over a thousand years or more!   I keep to myself a great deal, so I like to paint, read, play chess, or some card games.   At times, I do enjoy drinking , haggling, shark-baiting, and scandalous parties, but not constantly...

12)Who is or was the closest person to you?
         The closest person to me was actually a spirit of Wisdom, and --yes-- there is a reason to make that differentiation clear.  People are people and spirits are spirits.  To confuse this or blur the lines would be to welcome a shift in both behaviors of these individuals.  Either way, a Friend is the warmest and closest compliment that I can bestow anyone or anything.


13)What is the weirdest dream you've ever had?
           The weirdest dream I have ever had involved a bunch of flying cats chasing me and squawking like ravens...  I was naked, covered in blackberry pie,  and using a pickle barrel as my shield against the harsh judging eyes of whatever tavern I was running out of at the time...  Mind you, this was a dream, and dreams can by flighty.

14)You reeeeeally pull off the bald look, but what made you decide to shave off those luscious dreadlocks? Was it involuntary?
       Ah.  The dreadlocks... I do miss them.  I suppose losing them was something involunatry, but the intention behind it was completely my decision and with meaning.  I did not shave them off, actually...  When I...  I did something, rather foolish, let's just say that my hair was magically removed.  There is no way to grow them back, I'm afraid--nor would I waste much time in looking for a way to do it...  Since I seem to pull off the bald look so well!  **smiles**


15)Wolves are independent creatures but also pack animals, who are highly social. Do you want to create a pack or stay a lone wolf?
         This is actually as much a complicated answer as the question is thorough.  However, in the strongest simplicity of it all, I suppose I would have to say that I wish to have my original pack returned to me.  I wander aimlessly in a world that is a shadow of its former glory.  I see Dalish Clans and City Elves huddled, starving and sickly as they submit themselves right back into slavery, thin their bloodlines, or kill themselves off in the name of Pride, and a History they confuse themselves with and know very little about.   
As it stands, I am alone.  I am the only one of my kind with the clairvoyance of a time preceding centuries even before the fall of Elvhenan.  I have tried many times to right the wrongs elves of the current days have formed for themselves, but to many I am a madman, shunned and chased away.  Therefore, without a sliver of pride in my bones to this phrase, I can say that I am the only one of my kind.  Its as heartbreaking as it is enlightening, and yet I am comfortable in this knowledge.  In no way do I wish to associate myself with those who have no desire to help themselves, or lack the willpower to see what truths they choose to blind themselves from seeing.
However, I do not wish to die alone.  To be the only one to know of what true potential my people have, and to die with it to be forever forgotten to my entire race --and the world--?--  I cannot think of anything more frightening than that.

01/15/2018 04:14 PM 

To Almost Feel Her Near
Current mood:  accomplished

Disclaimer : A One-Shot Short cause I am not that good with Farewells. After Trespasser, Solas attempts to keep a lasting memory and to repair Lavellan's arm.





He knew that he shouldn't have been there, but as space and time opened in a ripple between pockets of itself, the void that Fen'Harel created could not have been ignored.� He stepped� through the void's opening, landing on the balcony of Lavellan's terrace.� His wolf form was not as large as it would have been in the Realm of Dreams, but he still carried with him the six eyes; most of which he had kept closed to camoflauge with his black fur.

The void closed behind him as he looked towards the large windows and doors that remained open.� He sniffed the air; walking on all large four paws in search of any others to have lain any physical claim to the area aside from himself and Lavellan.� It had always been their secret place--the only place in all of Skyhold where they could have had a moment to themselves.

The doors were open though, and wolf paused to cautiously look towards large bed inside of the room.� His left ear folded back, flat at first to listen.� He could see the singular form of someone sleeping in the soft mattress there.� The wolf was almost worried to have stayed, but he listened carefully to the slow breathing against the heavy red velvet comforter.� It was paced to the rhythm of her heart, a memory that he had listened for once before in the many times he had watched over the Inquisitor.� Fen'Harel could determine then from the scent of her and shallow breaths, that it was in fact Lavellan asleep in her bed.

The wolf cautiously crept farther into the room by then, breathing in slowly of her scent and trying to mark it in his memory even still.� He looked up to the large bed and paused once more.� He watched the rise and fall of her chest from there.

He was entranced with the sight because she remained so beautiful to him.� Lavellan was almost etheral to him; sacred and pure and he was never more attracted to her than when she was asleep.� He would have worshiped her as the Sentinals of the Ancient Temples, pouring sweat honey and fine hearbs to her lips to keep her beauty and health thriving and vibrant.� He would have rand a golden comb through the silken strands of her hair and dawned her forehead with a crown of pearls and diamonds. Her perfect pointed ears, he would have kissed with emeralds and saphires to her liking. In so many ways, she was captivating and he nearly felt helpless to avoid the thought of such worship of her.

In a flash of light that filled the room, the wolf had soon shifted into the form of the familiar elf that was known as Solas.� His robes were heavy, coated in formal mage armor and a heavy hood of silk that covered his head.� He paused, studying her and reached down slowly to trace the comforter that covered Lavellan's shoulders.� She continued to breathe in deep and slow, lost to her dreams and safe from the sight of Solas actually standing before her.

Even so, Solas could not move away right then -- even if she might have awoken.� He lifted the cover and viewed the stub of her severed limb.� The injury that stared back at him with such a heavy accusation; and one that may have been very well deserved.� It was his sin against her and yet the only thing that he could have done to save her as well as ensured that she would not have followed him.� Because she would have followed him...

Solas knew that his Heart would have dropped everything for him.� She would have destroyed anyone; anything in his name if he would have just said the word.� As much as he loved her for it, he could not approve either.� This was because Solas knew that she would not have been happy.� No one could have been happy to follow under what Solas was planning to have done, and he needed someone capable of proving that he was wrong.�

He needed to be stopped and shown that the world could function as it currently was; corrosive and continually bleeding--but alive.� Solas also needed to have been shown that the elves were not lost to the humans or any other race, for he has seen the traits of elven blood already being swallowed up by time, ignorance and new tolerances.� To him, this world was a mistake.� It was dying and with it, his people were being consumed.� Even his lovely Lavellan. He could see her fierce and shinning before him in all her glory, but even so, she too was being swallowed.

He wondered then if she would still wait for him. As selfish and foolish as the thought was, it still crossed his mind and lingered. She would have been better off not thinking of him at all. Chasing after something so pitiful and poisonous as 'The Dreead Wolf' would only leave her to cry herself to sleep. Perhaps then someone else would comfort her and warm her bed. It would have saddened him, but Solas would not have minded it; for at least then maybe, just maybe, her heart would not hurt as much as his did right then.

His fingertips traced along Lavellan's bandages then, for he almost would dare not even touch her.� Tracing a trail further down towards the mattress, Solas used magic to pull remnants from between the Veil to take shape.� With it, he gave the faded image of Lavellan's remaining arm, and Solas had almost wept from the sight.� The spell had failed, after all then.� His curious attempt to have repaired what he had done still would not work.� The only thing he had managed to do was create a memory through electricity and the pressures of the Veil.

Lavellan mumbled some in her sleep and Solas moved as if a shelf of earth had been suddenly ripped away from underneath him.� His knees had bent and cautiously, he found himself sitting on her bed next to her.� His arms moved around her to hold her and his face rested upon the faded formation of Lavellan's missing arm.� The memory of her skin tingled against his cheek like fresh static after a dry heat.

His eyes closed momentarily and Solas tried to calm the rush of his anguish to his failure.� The tightness in his throat and his heart twisted and turned near his adam's apple.� He stayed for just a moment longer; trying to create the memory of her.� He would lock it away in his heart to protect it from his mind; keep it somewhere safe from anything that would taint it or corrupt his own thoughts of her.� No demon or spirit was allowed to touch what he cherished so sacred and pure.

"...Ir abelas, ara lath...(*)"� He whispered in quiet and light so as not to awaken her.� "Ara dir'vhen'an.� Sasha mar melin julahnan fra nydha. Var vas druast i'em'an, i alinen tel'juhartha ebalasha.(**)"

With his vow said, he lifted his head moved towards her head.� Still he had not touched her, but his lips left a light and feathery kiss merely inches from her closed eyes.� Solas watched then as she mumbled more in her sleep and turned away from him; rolling to the other side of the bed.� Solas smiled sadly, watching her and after a moment longer he rose back to his feet.� He didn't want to leave, because he knew it would have been the last time he would have seen her this way.� However he needed to leave.� The cries of his people rang in his ears, pulling him back, and as the void had opened behind him, his image had soon slipped away behind smoke and shadow until at last the opening was closed and he was suddenly gone.

**********************


(*) I'm sorry, my love.
(**) My promise. Only your name shall I cry during the night. Our bond is sacred with us, and others shall not hear my grief.

[ This blog post is private ]

01/04/2018 10:52 PM 

The First Scar
Current mood:  accomplished





"...I'm going to tell you a story--a long story... of a time much older than this..."

"Long ago, the world was savaged and new.� Elves from all walks of life bowed to a single King.� He had an imense power and his reign was brutal, and he felt that he had to be because he was so important and enemies within the Court lurked all around him."� He stole a glance, wondering if he should have continued, but attempted anyway.�

"This King had a son who spent his days dalliancing with a peasant girl who sold flowers in the streets.� The son wanted to marry her one day and bring her into the royal fold, but the King forbade it.� Not because she was poor or because the family's next heir had to at least have two thirds of their own royal blood; no.� The King told his son no because his son refused to pay attention in his studies.

The Prince refused to listen.� Then, one day the Flower Girl was pregnant and she ran to the monastary for sanctuary.� It did not save her, because news eventually reached the King and the King was furious.� He had the Flower Girl brought to him and placed her on a rack.� He used a hot weilding knife and carved his name into her stomach to show that he owned her first before any man.� He used magic to kill the unborn, ripped it from the inside and then ordered his guards to rape her bloody...� and the Prince, he was forced to watch.� The King wanted his son to see his father's anger and royal rights so that his son would tremble, but the Prince had done anything but that.

The Prince rose in anger; a furious anger, he killed his Father and the guards, and later when other superpowers decided they had wished for their freedoms to break away from the Empire, the Prince killed them too. The Prince killed anyone who defied him and thrived on anger and vengeance ever since.� The only thing that calmed him was his Flower Girl, and slowly she spoke reason to him.� With her suggestions, the Prince formed an alliance with others who were close to him, and those who greatly supported his love for the Flower Girl.� She became a symbol of life and love for everyone but she never again believed she could have children.� So, those in her's and the Prince's alliance were crowned as New Kings and they fell into the complacency and fueled fantasy of being one huge family.� Thus the struggle for power and stability increased by tenfold, for this meant anyone could claim a throne if they were angry enough or powerful enough.�

However, somehow through unexplained means, the New Kings remained in power for centuries.� Multiple stories grew to keep their power strong and still explainable for those who followed them.� They started out as conquerors and inventors, then as Kings and Reknowned Scholars, and finally they were Gods of a huge Family linked together by celestial blood and marriage.� Such bonds were unable to argue or deny as time passed around them, that even some of the New Kings believed the stories themselves.



It was easy to believe in such things because for unexplained reasons, the New Kings, the Prince and the Flower Girl has seemed to become immortal.� Their lifespan was still halted in their youthful primes.� When they were injured or weakened, most of the time a long rest would replenish or heal their condition.� A stroll to watch flowers bloom slowered for an entire season for them, and when they slept, it had been known that they could sleep from months to a year at�a time.

As the tales of the New Kings grew with their power and for unexplained reasons, the common people began to suffer again.� Some of the New Kings saw this suffering and wanted to discover its truth but the 'Prince of his time' did not want any investigations done.� He believed it to be a natural threat to his reign and possibly a threat to his Flower Girl.� Then, one day, one of the New Kings raised his shouts to the Prince.

'My people must be sick for they are dying much faster,' he told him.� 'They beg for a salvation I cannot give, and they wish for a reason they have been cursed!'

The Prince told this King, 'I command you to mark them in chains like the rest of us have done.� Make them fear you before they uprise against you.'

The New King refused and instead gathered with him the few of the other New Kings, who sought the same answers as he, to charge the castle and attack the Prince.� Naturally, the Prince was outraged and felt betrayed.� These were people that he personally appointed to rule, after all.� So, a battle ensued in the Courtroom and the Prince unleashed his guards for protection while he rose from his throne to chuck spears at those who defied him."

Fen'Harel paused then and moved to sit back.� The light from the sunroof shined down on the questionable scar on his forehead.� The circular dent that seemed to sink in as a formidable blemish was otherwise barely noticeable if he had not of pointed it out earlier.� He had not told the story of Elgar'nan and Mythal in so long that it felt like a weight being lifted from him.� It was far more informative than his own of course; and that was the point.

"When the one of the New Kings were struck, the Flower Girl rushed to throw herself over his body.� She looked to the Prince with sorrow that chased with her."� Fen'Harel said and paused, looking back with a pitiful sneer which clearly mimicked his own thoughts by then.� "'Leave him be,' she begged him, 'he's just a boy.� A boy who refuses to obey his father.'"

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