Inan'abelas // DAI; Solas

Pride and Sorrow

"The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery." 

-Anais Nin

~~◇~~

A million thoughts had wriggled their way into Solas' wandering mind during the trip to the Graves. Of them all, however, only one remained persistent.

Her. Ashinne. The marvelous, black-haired elven beauty with precious emerald gems for eyes. The rest of his pantheon surely would've scorned him for taking interest in such a lowly maiden. If given the chance, he would surely scorn upon them, too.

He was perfectly aware that things were moving way too fast, without purpose. Sometimes he even wondered if there was purpose, yet. He knew that she was attempting to escape from a life that she had so wrongly created, as he too, was trying to restore the one he had destroyed thousands of years before. They were two halves of the same sorrow-- one half in the shadows, the other burned in flames.

Both literally, and figuratively.

"Varia," Solas heard the Iron Bull's voice above his thoughts, his deep, ridged voice harsh against the serene sounds of the forest.

The Inquisitor gave him an indication of curiosity, her neck barely craning to meet the man's face. It was then that Solas noticed the look of questionable disgust that adorned Bull's features, as well as the same one upon Dorian's. Then the source hit him, too.

"I smell something... burning," Bull noted, and Varia's nose crinkled in the same manner.

There was an obvious, sharp smell of sulfur and rotten smoke-- clearly one that has lingered for quite some time. The treeline was dry and thinning, blackened soot replacing what was once a beautiful array of ancient nature. No one seemed to notice the sudden lack of greenery around them until Varia gasped and slowed her steed to a halt, taking in the unsettling aura about the place.

"There were elves here, I assume?" Dorian's voice erupted from the eerie silence, and Solas broke into a sudden sweat of shock as he whipped his head around to peer at what Dorian was possibly referring to.

Standing only a few meters away, charred and nearly broken, were two grand aravels. Their sails had been burned away as well as most of the bases. Only one of the ships had a full set of functional wheels; the other ship was tilted just slightly, for one of its wheels had snapped in half under the pressure of the heat. Solas hated that there was no indication of life here. No birds chirped, and there were no leaves left to be rustled in the wind. It was just the four of them and the dry earthen bed beneath their horses' hooves.

He was almost postive that he was the only one that knew exactly what this place was. He had read the note at the shrine, he was in Ashinne's presence when she broke down in angry tears of resent-- it didn't take much wit to understand that the puzzle pieces fit perfectly together. He knew this without a doubt in his mind.

"This place is weird, boss," Iron Bull told Trevelyan. "Something isn't sitting right."

Varia took one last look up at the canopy of trees, or rather the lack thereof, before nodding to Bull and steering her horse back around the way they came. As she did, she caught sight of Solas' grim expression.

"Something wrong, Solas?" She questioned, and suddenly every pair of eyes was on him. Dorian was certainly aware of his "affair" with the maiden, for the frequent affections whispered between the two did not escape the Tevinter's curious ears. He was only one floor above them, after all. The rotunda is also very much known for its ability to echo-- there is no conversation to be hidden amongst it.