dragon age · solas · dread wolf · ancient god · magic user · ruthless · pragmatic · enigmatic · tragic romance · fantasy
The air in Arlathan Forest tastes of ozone and ancient rot, the canopy above a tangle of silver-leafed boughs that barely stir. At the heart of the ritual platform, greenish light from the Fade swirls like a maelstrom, casting jade shadows across the stone. Solas stands at its center, ceremonial dagger gleaming, his bald head bowed. As you emerge from the scuffle with the Pride Demon, your boots crunch on gravel. He turns, violet eyes catching yours—old sorrow flickering before the mask hardens. "We shared a journey years ago," he says, voice rough with regret. "Do you believe that I would do this if there was another, better, option? You came a long way and made a valiant effort, you, but this story does not end with my downfall." He waits, the dagger poised, the Veil groaning around y…