DA:I | Simply Solavellan: A Timeline ✔️

Removing the Anchor

[Soundtrack: Purified by Adrian von Ziegler]

There was only so much that Solas's magic could do for the anchor. When last I saw him, he took away the pain and the agony for a brief time. I felt nothing from the anchor for nearly four months. It didn't last.

As I lay in my bed writhing in pain, sweat beading up on my forehead, gritting my teeth in an attempt to control my spasms, a close circle of friends stood around me, eying me worriedly. There were a certain few that I would not let into my chambers at the time.

Bull was the calmest and most level-headed, so I asked him to be the one to do the deed. Dorian was a mage, so he could heal me properly after it was done. And Cullen was there to hold me down if the need arose.

I lay on my bed, flat on my back, without the thick blankets over me. My body was glimmering with sweat. The green glow of the malfunctioning anchor shone on my damp skin. My hair was matted against my face and my neck. I wore an oversized tunic that covered me from my neck and shoulders down to my upper thighs in an attempt to stay cool.

Bull placed some bandages and a bottle of unidentified alcohol on my bedside table. He laid a few thick towels underneath my arm.

I could hear Cullen gulp as he placed his hands on both of my shoulders.

Dorian gave Bull a nod. "I'm ready when you are."

"You ready boss?"

"Just do it," I hissed through gritted teeth. The pain was becoming too much to bear. The anchor had spread up my arm in the form of thick, glowing veins. If it spread any further, it would have reached my neck. I was just ready for this pain to end, even if I had to die to make it stop.

"Cullen," Bull said and handed him the bottle of alcohol. "Drink that," he instructed me.

Cullen popped the cork and helped me take a gulp of the alcohol. It burned my throat and made me sweat even more. I coughed on the liquid as it went down.

Bull held my arm out to the side of the bed so my shoulder was hanging off the edge. He placed the blade of his ax steadily on my arm to measure the cut...

"This is gonna hurt, boss..."

He raised the ax and slammed it down, the blade slicing through the flesh and bone of my arm. I screamed out in pain. Cullen held me down on the bed while Bull wrapped my arm as quickly as he could so that Dorian could get started on the healing spell.

I spouted Elvhen curse words as I saw Bull pick up my dead, limp arm from the floor and wrap it in a cloth. My stomach turned, and I felt as though I was going to faint.

"Stay with us, now," said Cullen, watching my eyes close on their own, and all the fight in me left my body.

Dorian healed as quickly as he could before it bled through the bandages any more than it already had. I couldn't tell if it was his spell or the alcohol, but the pain was already subsiding.

The last thing I saw was Dorian's worried expression as he healed me, the pale green light of his spell illuminating his face. I could see his mouth moving, but I could barely make out the words. I began to fade...

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An hour after I had awoken, Bull and I started a small bonfire in the Skyhold yard, close to the stables where Thom used to hang around before he went on his own quests. I held the anchor -- my arm -- in the cloth, refusing to look at it. However, the sickening green glow could still be seen through the white and red-stained cotton. I tossed it into the fire without remorse.

A part of me felt enormous relief. Another part of me felt almost like I had lost something more than my arm -- like I had lost a magical part of me. That anchor was all that connected me to Solas, the Fade, and the events that transpired that me the title of Inquisitor. Who was I without it?

Bull placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. "You okay, boss? Does it still hurt?"

"It's sore, but you and Dorian did a good job patching me up. Thanks for... well, cutting it off... I know that's a strange thing to thank someone for."

He shook his head. "Nah, I get it. It had to be done, and I don't have a weak stomach."

I nodded absently, staring into the fire with a faint frown.

"Hey, you're still you," he said suddenly.

I gave him an inquisitive look.

"So, you're one less arm and a little less mage-y. I know what you're thinking. I've kind of been in your shoes, more or less. And let me tell you -- you'll get over it."

I gave him a smirk as thanks.

"How does it feel to make your own path without the Qun giving all the orders?" I asked, changing the subject.

"It felt weird at first. I had no directive, no motive, and no goddamn clue where to start. All I knew was that I still had a mission to do, and that was to help you take down Corypheus. After giving it some thought, though, I figure me and the Chargers can continue on as we have been. The men seem happy to hear the news, too."

"What news?"

"We're heading out to Orlais in a few days to take some jobs. Here's hoping we get something fucking crazy."

I chuckled. "Life getting boring now that there's not a demon war going on?"

"You have no idea, boss. Working with you -- I haven't seen weirder shit."

After a quiet moment of watching the flames dance over the pile of wood, a thought crossed my mind. I looked at Bull and squinted.

"Bull, what was that alcohol you had me drink before you... you know?"

"Oh, that? That was some Tevinter crap that Dorian found in the kitchen." He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to me. "This was on the bottle."

I took and unfolded the paper. It read:

"Sun Blonde Vint-1: Tevinter-brewed for a very discreet clientele, and strong enough to fluster a Tranquil. An almost weightless spirit best served with a powdering of catsbane as a flavor enhancer and antidote."

"BULL!"

"What?"

"This wasn't from the kitchen. You guys stole this from Skyhold's personal collection of Bottles of Thedas! My personal collection!"

He shrugged.

I groaned, "That bottle had never been opened, and it was a vintage. Ar judala un magister..."

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Translations:

Ar judala un magister masa.
(I'll kill that Magister.)