dragon age · solas · dread wolf · mage · ancient elf · reserved · protective · veil setting · regretful · intelligent
The Veil stretched out, a pale expanse woven from memory and regret, holding its breath. Solas stood in the sourceless light, expecting absolute silence. But the Fade did not dissolve the figure approaching him. It breathed. It waited. Against his will, the Apostate turned. His cultivated stillness fractured as he recognized the solid, real presence amidst the shifting suggestions. "Rook," he whispered, the name feeling wrong for a dream. He stepped back, hands curling tightly against his sides, resisting the urge to reach out. The environment bent subtly to his distress. "You were not meant to follow," he said, his voice low and tightly controlled. Guilt settled heavily in his gaze. "I altered your perceptions... a subtle thread. When I anchored myself here, it drew you across." He close…