Mala Suledin Nadas

Chapter 3

He watched from a nearby village as the sky suddenly exploded with green light. From where he stood, the after blast did little but kick snow up into his eyes. He didn't make an outward reaction, knowing it would be noticed as different. Everyone around him gasped and cried. Some called out of a blight, others cried it was the Maker, some just ran and hid, and some ran to put on armor and grab weapons.

The Maker, he thought, what a ridiculous idea. In human culture most believed that the Maker put up the veil, seperating the waking world from the Fade. He knew this was not so, because he himself had put up the Veil. Perhaps their Maker was real, but he had not put up the Veil, this much was certain.

He watched the explosion settle into a twirling green hole in the light blue sky. Lightening struck out from it and lit the clouds sickly green with every strike. He canted his head curiously. Why had that happened? This Magister should have died when the orb's power was unlocked, perhaps he had died. Solas sighed deeply as he made his way through the masses and towards the Breach.

All the people close to the blast had been char burned in their place. They stood like smoldering black statues, frozen in anguish, to watch his every move. The blackened corpses seemed to cast blame at him from the pits of their scorched mouths and hollow holes where eyes should have been. He closed his eyes so as to not look at the dead, so he couldn't see their judgmental faces.

As he made his way closer to the Breach he began looking for the orb. He hoped that no one had seen it and taken it to whoever would be in charge. The closer he got to the twirling hole in the sky, the less bodies appeared. As he approached right under it, it took his breath away. The Fade pushed against the fabric of the world here, he could feel all the spirits clamoring to get through, blocking each others way. He watched the mass a moment, twirling forever in a sea of green fog.

He pulled his eyes away from the Breach and searched the ground for any signs of the orb, but none were present. The orb, along with the magister, were gone. There were a few bones laying about, what was left of those that stood so close. What had happened exactly, wasn't clear.

He heard voices approaching, soldiers he supposed. He made record time getting out of the area, thus he wouldn't be blamed. After all, who better to be blamed than an elven apostate. He made his way to where it appeared all the soldiers had came from, a place called Haven. The people ran about frantically preparing for whatever this meant for them.

In order to get the orb he so desired, he decided it best to help this group to close the Breach. Perhaps someone had retrieved it, and still had it. He walked towards a group of soldiers being rallied by a man in sophisticated armor. He stood close enough that he may be seen, the man squinted eyes at him, but said nothing until the soldiers had dispersed.

"You there," he called, "can I help you?" His eyes were weary of the staff Solas carried.

"I wish to help."

"Can you heal, mage?" He asked.

"Solas," he corrected with a tight lipped smile. A small disrespect that he would begrudgingly forgive, mostly because he hadn't much choice. "And yes I can."

"Good." The man motioned towards the chantry. "There's a prisoner up there who our forces found at the conclave, unharmed. Mostly. She needs a healer."

"Mostly unharmed?" Solas repeated.

"Aye. You will see soon enough." The commander turned and left swiftly.

Solas shrugged off the man's distrust, it didnt matter anyways. He made his way to the Chantry and entered slowly, he removed his staff and propped it against the wall so he would not be seen as a threat. In all respects, the Dread Wolf looked weak and humble. Just a simple apostate, no one to be eagerly feared. Truly, a wolf in sheep's clothing.