Inan'abelas // DAI; Solas

Square One

"She wears strength 

and darkness equally well.

The girl has always been

half Goddess, half Hell."

-Nikita Gill

~~◇~~

Inquisitor Trevelyan was insistent on heading out toward the Emerald Graves just two days after Solas' endeavor with Ashinne. The preparation left him with no time to speak to her, let alone even see her. He was able to catch glimpses of her busy form from time to time, carrying bundles of animal feed and pulling wagons of supplies for the Horsemaster to and from the stables. Each time he saw her, more and more hay had collected on her stockings and in her hair.

He had wanted to talk to her about what happened between them. Not just about why she ran, but about everything. He knew that there were walls between them on both ends, but he wasn't aware of the reasons she had hers up for. He would speak to her in the Fade about it, if he could.

But that's what made him even more eager to travel with Trevelyan. If he could leave Ashinne's range for even just a few days, it would allow him access to the spirits in the Fade without issue.

Maybe then, he would get answers. He would just have to hope that they had the answers he desired.

~~◇~~

After taking note of Solas' leave, Ashinne decided to confront the Spymaster about becoming a scout for the Inquisition. She needed to find Feyralan before he caught sight of her, for if he did, he would start rallying the remaining Inquisition against her with the power of his strong coercion. She didn't need a force of scouts searching for an elven woman of her description to then be later tried for a crime she likely didn't commit. That's the way Feyralan tended to manage things back when he was a spy. He stuck to one agenda: find the perpetrator, spread rumors, allow the perpetrator to get caught and killed in his own web.

Maybe it suited him, too, to wear the vallaslin of Elgar'nan-- the All-Father, the leader of his pantheon, the God of Vengeance and the Sun. He was much bolder than some who dared to display the blood writing of the All-Father upon their faces.

Because of such, he would not be hard to find. Half his face should be shadowed in black ink, his red hair standing out from the dark marks upon his face. He was also tall and lanky for an elf, normally standing a good seven or eight inches more above the top Ashinne's head. She was sure that if he and Solas were to stand side by side, they would be the same height. In Ashinne's eyes, however, Feyralan was much more intimidating at that height. She knew that his raw strength was not something to be underestimated.

As much as she believed she would hate it, she thoroughly enjoyed the way the scouting uniform looked on her. She knew it would do well in hiding her true shape from Feyralan, especially the hood. She could only do so much with magic in order to change her true, physical appearance, and the fit of a bulky armor with a hood and partial face mask did wonders in altering it without the use of mana. The mask hid the majority of her vallaslin, minus the markings on her chin and neck, and the only distinguishable feature that remained was her eyes. She hid them with an overlay of brown via a spell, one that she was told not even the Keeper knew.

She gave herself one last look-over in the mirror before turning her back to it, her breathing shallow as her nerves started firing through her like electricity. She did not know if she could convince another member of the Inquisition that her doings were righteous. She knew that the Commander was soft-hearted at the core, easily swayed by words. The Spymaster, however, was callous and bitter, her eyes shooting sharp daggers at anyone who walks onto her floor of the rotunda. Whether she does it intentionally or not, no one knows. Something in her past must have really set the woman into place.