#please I want to read solas's books

[oediex]

This is the only important thing I've taken away from that Game Informer article

[tempestclerics]

.

[100jewels-between-teeth]

A semi-comprehensive list of every pre-established lore inaccuracy in Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Please note, this isnt me saying you cannot enjoy the game for what it is. This is not me saying you shouldnt play the game. But as a long time Dragon Age fan (started with Origins, has consumed all extra media including books/shows/novellas/etc..) the way Veilguard has fumbled the lore is, to someone who cares, infuriating. I shall keep the list under a read more to avoid spoilers for Veilguard. This will also be added to with more points that are given for people who wish to add

But without further adieu;

Bioware Kind of Forgot...

Bioware kind of forgot...

That Solas, after you choose to drink from the Well of Mythal (whom in Veilguard is confirmed either a lover/mother figure) is fucking pissed

That Solas was not bringing down the Veil to move the Evenuris and put them somewhere else, but to establish the ancient elves once more

The fucking orbs

That the elves were currently, at the end of inquisition, beginning the elf uprising and following Solas

the Elvhen Language

Solas having an extensive spy network that never gets brought up

That most of the Elves would be on board with Solas's plan

Brialla and how she controls Eluvians too

That in Inquisition, it is stated that barely any working Eluvians exist and that the one in Skyhold and the one in the temple of Mythal are extremely rare

The Valaslin and how if all of what happened is common knowledge, that the elves arent currently freaking the fuck out that they are wearing slave markings

Solas does not abhor the use of Blood Magic

That the Evanuris were trapped/locked in the Black City specifically and not the fade in general, so Solas would have to open the Veil either at the doors of the Black City or travel. The gods would not be wandering around the Fade

Using the lore/logic confirmed in Veilguard, the ancient elves being spirits that, with the help of lyrium, were made into elven form, that Cole should technically be one of the most powerful creatures known to man since they gave themselves a human body without the assistance of Lyrium. Bioware kind of forgot...

Slavery in Tevinter (really now there are no slaves shown in Minrathous?)

Varric hates the deeproads/dwarves so why is he so okay with Harding's magic

Hawke in general

Varric is a world famous author so someone would have mentioned his death at some point?????

how the fucking Blight works (seriously the entire party is infected with the Blight)

How spirits work

Morrigan never wanted to become a vessel for Mythal and despises the thought

The Antivan crows bought/tortured child slaves and children from brothels, to be trained as crows, basically nullifying all of the trauma Zevran had gone through

Fenris freeing slaves, still

In the final battle they refer to the head of the Imperial chantry as the "Divine" when it should be the "Black Divine"

More shall be added with discovery

[dearasteria]

Major Gale romance SPOILERS below, so please DO NOT read and watch if you don't want to get spoiled.

I was REALLY worried about how romance with Gale would go, especially after talking to him right after he gets Karsas' book. My Tav wanted to believe and trust him, but something didn't feel right. At the end of Act II, when Tav tries to convince him not blow himself up for his ex's forgivness/to save Faerûn, it can be summed up with that one gif from Grey's Anatomy: "So pick me. Choose me. Love me" 🤡. Honestly, she asks not only to choose her, but also not to kill her and the rest of the team. Gale is so easily swayed and tells Tav that he loves her, even more than Mystra. Tav should be happy, right? But I'm like WAIT A DAMN MINUTE, it was faaar too easy, I mean, no protests from him, I didn't even have to use persuasion to convince him. At that point, after the trauma that Bioware had caused us with Anders and Solas, I'm getting paranoid. Gale doesn't love Tav, he's definitely hiding something. But I'm thinking to myself, "Okay, calm down, he just doesn't want to die, super understable. Maybe he really loves her and he needed to hear it? He needed reassurance that he has something to live for? Yes, it must be it". But then I go to the quest journal and see this:

DAMMIT GALE, you snake 🐍 My poor baby Tav (especially since the romance scene in Waterdeep was so warm and tender). She's so in love in him. Now I'm convinced that he will definetly betrey us, stubs us right in the heart.

At the beginning of Act III, he becomes obsessed with a book called The Annals of Karsus that may help him learn more about the crown. He becomes obsessed with how powerful he can become. When Tav gives him the book and says, "We already know the crown's dangerougs. Wouldn't that make things worse?" he replies:

"Worse? It could be the best thing that ever happened to me. To us."

After all this, Gale tries to convince Tav to help him reconstruct the crown. We have this beautiful scene on the boat and when I tell you my jaw dropped. HE CHOOSES TAV, listens to her concerns and simply chooses her.

The way he says it, the way he corrects himself… damn. For Tav, it's like a bucket of cold water. And I'm like, "Here we go again" 🤡

Furthermore, when we visit the Stormshore Tabernacle in Baldur's Gate and interact with Mystra's statue, he seems to feel so uncomfortable, he doesn't want to be there. Tav starts to think he's definitely hiding something. She would like to hear Mystra's version of what happened between her and Gale (I hope we can talk to her at some point in the game, it would be very interesting).

My Tav, however, disagreed, and Gale replies, "I hope you're right. I truly do. Godly power, perhaps I can live without, but you? You're everything". Has the curse of dating mages that leave players heartbroken been broken?

But I have to admit, when he said: "With you, I forget my goddess. I love you. Tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you want what I want. Please" - OH GODS 😳. I was so close to agreeing to this madness. The VA did an amazing job (side note: so many talented VAs in this game, it's mind blowing), the writing is amazing, the music is incredible, I was blown away, really.

Next day, after the boat scene, he's so adorable and full of love for Tav. Then I remembered his gratest flaw (for me it's more like his biggest fear) from the scene with Zethino in the circus: "He thinks he, and the world, might be better off if he were dead". At the time I thought he was lying, manipulating Zethino and his answers. My distrust of mages in games… Yes, I have a problem 😅

I haven't finished the game, but I have high hopes for a happy ending. No spoilers please, thanks :)

What a rollecoster of emotions, I love it, I love Gale. It felt like I was playing Dragon Age: Origins for the first time, way back when I was a teenager. It's really insane how this game makes me feel, how much I care about its characters and story.

EDIT: Okay, so we have an audience with Mystra, I mean only Gale, but we see the whole conversation between them. My only complain is that Gale doesn't mention Tav when Mystra asks him why he defied her 💔 The outcomes are different depending on whether you do it before or after the boat scene. Personally, I think doing the boat scene before meeting Mystra is much better. I get the impression that Gale is abandoning the plan to reconstruct the crown solely for Tav and his love for her. And the drama 👌🏻 it gives me life.

[screechingpaperdeer]

I finally watch the DA4 official gameplay review, and I have things to say!

The game looks lovely. When the game opens up and we're exposed to the raining city of Minrathous I was salivating. This is a dark city that evokes a sense of uneasy and pain. The agony and suffering of the cities citizens are what keep that floating thing in the sky, I swear. Even off that very linear path we're treated with, the urge to explore these streets is intense!

This is a very, very personal criticism on my end. I hate flipping. I understand Rook was just dodging. It's dumb, I know, I just hate it.

When Solas turned around, after Varric tries to stop him, all I could see was Megamind turning around. Re watched the shot like 4 times because I couldn't stop cackling.

@vulpixelates said it best in their post where they talk about a playable backstory like in origins. I haven't seen the Netflix show. I've not read the books. I don't know who the shadow dragons are, but I would love to learn more! And what better way to let me learn than through a playable backstory. Hell, even DA2 where Hawke is escaping lothering with their family, I'll take something like that. I just don't want what we got with Inquisition, it was one of my biggest gripes for that game. Please don't let Rook's story be "hey, they were just some person fighting in this tavern with us and we said yeah they're cool enough to help us fight an ancient elven god."

All and all, I look at Dragon Age has always had my heart and soul. I'm sure someone has honest criticisms just from the gameplay, I am not that person. I will forever and probably always look at the series with rose colors glasses, because I've never ended a game feeling disappointed, and I'm sure Dragon Age: The Veilguard won't let me down either.

[crossdressingdeath]

Care to elaborate on the dislike of "what they did with (Morrigan) in DA:I"?

Simple, snarky answer: I play Lavellan.

More complete answer: Morrigan in DAO could be kind of shitty, she didn't have a lot of respect for... anyone and seemed to make decisions solely based on whether or not they were evil (Morrigan bby please leaving everyone in Redcliffe to die isn't pragmatic when we still have to go through Redcliffe), but she was sheltered and still learning how the world worked so it was understandable, even sympathetic in places. Morrigan in DAI has been out in the world for ten years and has only gotten shittier. In general I'm not fond of the way that the recurring DAO characters apparently haven't grown as people in ten years (hardened King Alistair, a character specifically mentioned as being a good king, writing diplomatic letters to someone he met for at most five minutes like the recently-freed-from-heavy-indoctrination nineteen year old he hasn't been for a decade especially irritates me), it's clear that Bioware is more invested in cashing in on nostalgia than they are in developing these characters as characters, but Morrigan? Bioware, I know negative character development is still development but it maybe wasn't the best idea.

Let me put it this way. In Witch Hunt Morrigan steals a book from the Dalish so that she can learn about eluvians. This is kind of shitty behaviour, but it's Morrigan levels of shitty and she does leave the book outside the eluvian, so the Dalish as far as we see have reclaimed that book and the knowledge in it, and also they had it for years and so logically knew the things in that book already. Definitely they had access to it. And it's also important to keep in mind that that book is the only information we can confirm that Morrigan actually has on eluvians in canon; she's never mentioned as finding any other source. And then in DAI she basically calls the Dalish morons the whole way through and claims that she (a human woman with literally zero connection to the Dalish or elves in general beyond maybe having some friends who are elves and also stealing from the Dalish that one time, the Flemeth situation doesn't count because we're given no reason to believe Morrigan ever for a moment even suspected the Mythal thing or that Flemeth wasn't human or to believe that Flemeth passed on any knowledge about the elves, and certainly not anything the Dalish didn't know) has more right to take this ancient elven font of knowledge sacred to a Dalish god than a Dalish elf does. This despite the fact that if you have the arcane knowledge perk you understand the Well better than her literally just by looking at it (she doesn't know the Well will put the drinker under a geas despite all her research, while Quiz only has to look at it and hear the whispers coming from it to figure that out). I've seen it described as humansplaining and... yeah that kind of describes what Morrigan does. If you play Lavellan she's just constantly really shitty to you about you wanting to engage with your own damn culture and claims she knows better because she read one book that you quite possibly also read. It's not entirely to do with her as a character, some of it is DAI's shitty writing and without it her arrogance could've been just a character trait that she could've moved past (let Lavellan and Solas troll her by straight up lying about the inscriptions in the temple and her going along with it because she won't admit that she can't read as much of it as she claims she can, please), but the way it's allowed to stand unchallenged despite by all logic being horseshit really pisses me off. I don't trust Bioware not to double down on the "Oh this human woman understands this totally unrelated culture that she is in no way part of and has barely even studied way better than the people belonging to that culture do and deserves valuable ancient relics of their people more than them" thing, so I very much do not want to see her in any more DA games.

[broodwolf221]

happy dadwc! for solas/varric this week: i think i've earned the right to learn the truth

happy writing!

-inquisimer

oooh them.... <3 ty for this! a little beginning of their romance blurb @dadrunkwriting 718 words cws: none

He was reading when Varric entered, barely glancing up at the dwarf before turning his attention back to the book. Something had been building between them for quite a while, but Solas had been loath to commit. It was wrong. It was selfish. It was cruel. So lately he'd tried to keep his distance, but it seemed a passive conclusion would not be permitted. “You certainly turn tail early,” he said casually, Solas' shoulders tensing. “I mean, I know I'm kinda rusty, but I didn't think my flirting would scare you off so easily.”

Oh, he resented that. He wanted to snap that he wasn't afraid… but of course, that was the exact reaction Varric was trying to provoke. That frustrated him, too, how simple it would be to fall for the other man's prodding. “Perhaps I simply tired of it,” he said, wary of meeting his eyes. He knew it was a cruel response, dismissive, but if they couldn't have this, then it was crueler still to let the possibility linger. Best to make a clean break instead.

Varric snorted, and that was not the reaction he'd anticipated. He looked up from the book with a sigh, only to find the other man smirking at him. Another unexpected reaction. “Look, I don't chase. You want me to back off, I'll back off. But seriously, you aren't anywhere near as secret as you think you are.” Varric drew closer, hip against Solas' desk and arms crossed. “Just tell me the truth. I think I've earned that.”

“Have you?” He shot back, but even he could hear how empty it sounded. Varric didn't even bother with a reply, aside from his smirk growing. Damn dwarf. “It is… not that easy, Master Tethras.” Something flickered across Varric's face at that, and his smirk seemed to stiffen, held deliberately. Solas had wounded him, and that weighed on the both of them. He settled back with a frown, meeting Varric's eyes. “Have you thought this through? The world is at risk, powerful forces are aligned against us, and I am a mage. An apostate. Should we succeed, I highly doubt I'll be able to linger. What would we have? Some brief dalliance? Is it not kinder, for both of us, to let it rest? Is it not wiser?”

“Shit, Chuckles.” Varric sounded strained, although Solas couldn't quite place how. “I'm not proposing. And this isn't my first ‘dalliance.’ I care about you, and you obviously feel the same. What's better about burying that? We may die tomorrow, or in twenty years—but in either case, I'd rather live today.”

He stared at Varric for a moment, then shook his head, even as he felt a traitorous smile creep onto his face. “Of course that would be your view. Of course it would.”

“And of course you'd be so deep in your head about this that you can't even see straight.” He snorted, unwilling—and unable—to contest that. Instead he tapped his fingers on the pages of the book a few times before closing it and standing, Varric straightening up. He stood in front of the other man and met his eyes for long moments, superficially debating with himself although he'd all but decided.

Varric grinned when Solas bent down and grabbed his jacket, kissing him hard. Heavy hands settled on his hips and Varric's warmth seeping through his clothing was a delight. Varric may not chase a relationship but he certainly chased Solas' mouth, pressing forward and reinstating the kiss when he began to pull away. Then he was being urged backwards until he felt the seat brushing against his thighs, sinking down into it. It made kissing easier, their height a better match now. “Ahem.” They jerked apart at the sudden voice, Varric stifling a laugh as Solas felt himself blush. “Please, do get a room. A different room.” Dorian sounded entirely too smug about it, but Solas had to admit it wasn't a terrible idea.

Still, he let Varric pull away without protest, tilting his head back to glare up at Dorian as the door to the rotunda opened and closed. The other mage smiled and shrugged before giving a little wave and turning away, and Solas heard his muffled laughter drifting down. 

He found himself wondering where, exactly, Varric's room was.

[thenevarranaccord]

Context:

As I’ve mentioned before, my first Rook is going to be one of my old fenhawke kids. Right now, I’m filling in the blanks about what he was doing between the end of DA2 and the start of DA4, and that includes a brief stint at Skyhold.

He’s 15. He has never read The Tale of the Champion. Hawke and Fenris do not want him to read The Tale of the Champion.

He really wants to read The Tale of the Champion.

Who at Skyhold is going to give him a copy of The Tale of the Champion when he asks? All of these characters would know who this teenager is and would be able to infer that if Hawke wanted his kid to read this book, Hawke/Varric would have given him the book.

There is a reason why the characters who are not listed in the poll are not listed in the poll. I would really prefer it if people would pick one of the options in the poll, but if you absolutely can’t and have to pick the penultimate option, please tell me who you would go with and why!

Any input is appreciated!

[ruiningsalads]

Finding a letter they weren't meant to see for Solavellan :D Happy friday!

woof! I had trouble deciding which way I wanted this to go.

this is set after Veilguard, once the dust has settled.

"Vhenan?" Solas ventured into Lavellan's workroom, expecting to find her busily writing at her desk, as she so often did. To his surprise, she wasn't there. Her desk was covered in letters for her friends and former inner circle, but his eyes were drawn to a thick stack of parchment laid off to one side. Had Varric finally returned her accounting of the Inquisition? The dwarf had agreed to help her edit, but Solas suspected he was also pulling from her writing to supplement his own book.

Curious to see Varric's comments, he sank into Lavellan's chair and pulled the stack closer to him. Immediately, he could see that it was not her manuscript, but was instead a large stack of unsent letters -- addressed to him. It was beneath him to snoop, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he read.

Though written like letters to him, he quickly realized she used them as a sort of diary. The earliest pages were fresh with pain, betrayal, determination -- but as he read, he could feel as she grew ever more tired. Her arm no longer troubled her, but the pain in her heart, the pain caused by him, festered. He had known how much she suffered, at least to some degree, but to read it laid out in her handwriting chronicled over the decade they were apart...

He felt unworthy of her. After all she had done, all she had sacrificed, he broke her heart and left her behind for his own selfish purpose. Of course nothing went to plan, and that served to bring her back to him, but would it have been better if he kept his distance? Guilt weighed heavily on him, seeping under his skin like the vallaslin he so despised, leaving him marked and tainted.

"I could never figure out where to send those." He whipped his head around to see her leaning against the doorway, watching him. "You never left a mailing address."

"I... Vhenan, forgive me. My curiosity got the better of me, and..." His voice trailed off. No explanation felt sufficient, not after reading her soul laid bare.

"It was written to you." She padded over to the desk and picked up the page he had been reading. "I never thought you would actually read these, but it brought me some comfort imagining that somehow you would."

He felt unclean, like the lowest darkspawn skulking in the deep roads. When he moved to get up, she placed her hand gently on his chest to keep him in place. Then, she perched on his leg, much to his surprise.

"You already know much of this." She sorted through the pages, skimming the details briefly before moving on. "You had agents tracking me all along."

"I... Yes, I knew most of it."

She lowered the pages to look at him, one corner of her mouth twitching upwards. "Careful, Dread Wolf. Your reputation will be ruined if word gets out that you have such a soft heart."

How did she do it? How could she bear to look at him and smile after everything?

"Solas." Her warm hand on his cheek shook him free of his spiraling thoughts. "You're here now. You've made amends. I need you to acknowledge that." She peered searchingly into his eyes. "Don't run away from me this time. Please."

He sighed and wrapped her in his arms. "For you, vhenan, I will try."

[silurisanguine]

Dragon Age the Veilguard review

Spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers!!!!!!! I cannot emphasise enough how many spoilers are below.

You have been warned. Putting below the cut so as to NOT spoil you. If you click on it, that's on you as I will be talking about the end game as well as points within...as well as this man's romance.

THE GOOD

The world building - The lore, omg the lore. Finding out that the original Elves were spirits that made their bodies and became real - and that Mythal begged Solas to do it even though he didn't want to - That was why he didn't like Cole wanting to be human. He was projecting his regret onto another spirit!

It's insane to realise that Solas's regret is made of so many actions that have formed the world of Thedas as it is at that moment! That him waking up and seeing the world as it is, because of his actions drove him to despair. No wonder he was hellbent on changing things back!

Now I know some people are pissed at the new lore in the game, that it contradicts previous, well I'm sorry, but that's bullshit. Every past game and book/comic until recently, the lore has been told through unreliable narration. Told by characters who didn't have the full picture, who were going off what they had been told or learnt through past generations.

As someone whose read, played everything DA, what we get now is accurate and fits perfectly as the hints were there from the start and I love how the dots are connected now.

The Dalish for example got so much wrong, because after the wars, their people scattered to the winds, taking what they could and rebuilding. They lost so much and what was left they patch-worked together into a broken mirror of their actual history. Because they were so separated, those cultures even had different views on things like magic, where one clan would embrace their mages, whilst others feared them.

In fact pretty much every big religion or faith in Thedas is built upon lies and half truths. The dwarves Stone, the Chantry's Andraste and the Maker, Tevinter's old gods.

What we are finding out in this game is the actual truth of the past. Yes we are told it through one or two people, but they were there and we physically see the results of those actions confirmed as having happened. Much of the truth Solas tried to hide because it hurt too much, but we find it out anyway, so that is not misinformation, but the actual history.

I think some people's issues are because their headcanons are being disproved and they don't like it. It's like, how often would a historian be pleased if someone from the ancient past time travelled and told them everything they thought about a culture was wrong? Some may love the chance to talk with someone from that time, but as I've seen as a fan of ancient history, many baulk against their ideas being refuted and lash out at anyone who tries to think of a different theory.

On another point with the lore I also actually love how it's a blank slate by the end of the game. The final blight ended with the Blight destroyed, Elven gods dead or gone. Thedas will be something new next time around and that isn't a bad thing. In a way Solas did change everything once more and we as the player are living through it rather than finding out about it from past knowledge.

The writing - I was utterly blown away by the story. It is in general so well written. The way the main theme of the game is regret. Each character we meet has regrets of some kind, some at the start of their journey, others as they go. Even the Rook by the end, but they all work past it and if you do everything right, you can help Solas work past his too.

I was worried when I heard about a moment at the end of the game feeling cheap. But it works. It's heartbreaking, and as I mentioned below limiting in choice, But the way it's done. it's meaningful. That noble sacrifice, that no matter what theme, that if they don't no one will be left. It's a gut punch but good and not unknown to Dragon Age games.

Then there is the other utter heartbreaking moment…Varric. I was gobsmacked but like the Rook, I knew deep down he was dead all along. I saw that stab to the chest at the start and knew then no one can survive that, but I wanted him to be alive. But I don't think he was truly just a projection of Solas. No projection would have helped Rook escape the fade prison Solas put them in. He was there for her..one last time. (when I play it again, seeing the telltale signs will be bittersweet)

Each character has such distinct personalities and I love how they are written. Each feel alive and you want to get to know them. Some are acerbic to start but they have reasons to be. Others are scary by reputation, but absolute kittens in reality -once -you -get- to- know- them. Their side missions are meaningful, not wasteful to the story. As I found with all the side missions. I didn't find a single side mission to be boring or time wasting as they just added to the story rather than be filler. I love how each character reacts to how the player presents themselves too. For example I've learnt Lucanis loves if the Rook is cheeky in most responses to him personally, but Emmerich likes the soft (thumbs up) responses.

The romances- For me there was only one choice to start with and it will be my canon romance and that dear readers is Lucanis Dellamorte. So I only know the full romance playthrough for him as I write this, but it spoke to me on so many levels.

Once he knows himself, is secure with what's happened to him, he gives his all to the romance. It's slow burn, romantic, caring and dangerous and that final romance scene...be still my beating heart. the way he kneels before Rook, the look of sheer utter devotion and love he has for them. Holy shit...and then the wings. Fuuuuu. Spite is such an interesting character too and the writer has confirmed he loves Rook in his own way too by the end of it. The Rook helped him and he trusts them.

I fell for Lucanis the moment I saw his concept art, but it was confirmed the moment I saw him on screen that he was the one I would pursue and I don't regret picking him in the slightest.

But, I have watched all the final romance scenes and they fit each character so well. Some are delightfully sweet - (Bellara, Harding,) some deeply romantic and knee shakingly endearing- (Lucanis, Emmerich) and others passionate and intense - (Neve, Taash and Davrin), just like their characters. They fit each one well. So there is something for everyone. (My next new character I make will romance Emmerich because my goth heart loves they make love on a tomb and in a coffin!) Yes the love scenes are not explicit as some Bioware games, but I don't need to see everything on screen and sometimes find when they are too explicit they get cringy and sometimes don't age well.

In a romance I want the chemistry, I want the emotion, the intention and scene to fit the character's personality and these do perfectly…and again I have fanfic and art to fill in the blanks 😉

The graphics- My god Thedas is breathtaking. I have taken so many photos in game! The environments are truly alive. Seeing new places like Treviso (my favourite, I could live there), Rivain's coast, The Grand Necropolis and Arlathan come to life is an utter joy. Then places like Minrathous, the Hossburg wetlands, just made even more beautiful than their architecture style was in Inquisition (and DA2 as I definitely saw some Kirkwall ambience in Docktown), but keeping the same themes as we saw there, was a joy and felt connected.

I do like that they created hubs rather than massive open worlds. each area felt rich with things to do…rather than massive open expanses with nothing in between. Even if part of me would have liked to have gone…over there to a place we couldn't get to 🤣But I had that in Inquisition as I always want to see more! I'd love to have seen more of Rivain for example as they have such an interesting culture, but it is what it is and what is there is gorgeous.

As for the graphics of the characters, I have quickly grown to love it, practically within the first few minutes of playing. The expressiveness of the characters is second to none. I have made such a beautiful Rook, I love the way she expresses herself and they feel alive even if they have a stylisation to them. The character creator is expansive and the hair..oh god the hair is gorgeous. Yaay long hair!

I see complaints that it's such a different style, but then each Dragon Age game has different stylisation! See these handy images for a refresher! -

Look at them- ALL different!

Varric for example has changed each game, yet he's still Varric! That nose, those eyes, that hairline....that...ahem ring pendant and expansive chest.

Morrigan too, is different, because especially in Veilguard, much has changed for her. She's gone from a naive hedgewitch, to a royal court advisor to....vessel of a god's memories.

A perfect example though is Isabela. She has appeared in some form in every game so this gives an even better example of how a character has changed, but is still the same character.

Plus people age, so they are going to look different! Isabela looks over a decade older than how she appeared in DA2 yet still smokin hot.

The music- They got Hans Zimmer to do the theme! He is a genius when it comes to emotionally charged, powerful music, so I adore the theme so much. Lorne Balfe then knocked it out the park with a ost that I have been listening to constantly. Each track feels like a finished piece rather than just ambient sound, like some of the previous OST tracks. Not to say I didn't like some of the previous- Inquisition/Trespasser is one of my favourites too and some of the earlier tracks are also beautiful, but I cant listen to those whole OSTs like I can with this.

The polish- I have had very very few bugs with this game which is a breath of fresh air. I play on PS5 and it's been smooth as butter for 99% of the gameplay. Crashing once and with only one all be it hilarious visual bug of a man in just underpants floating in mid air whilst a scene played between Rook and Harding! Other than that I've experienced no lag, no constant crashing or jarring graphic issues. Now I think those who play on PC have been getting more bugs, but I cannot speak for them, only myself. Now onto the things i had issue with in the game -

THE BAD

combat mechanics- I had to turn the difficulty down in order to play the game, which is fine, thankfully there is a difficulty changer than doesn't effect achievements. I do like to play games on normal difficulty to get the full experience, but due to the style of combat they brought in here that was impossible for me.

I think it's the constant barrage of magic/effects colours and light during combat and the reliance on blocking/dodging God of War style combat that my eyes and brainfog cant cope with. (I had a similar experience with that game.)

I played as a rogue, with full intention to be mostly archery, but due to how the enemies all zero in on you unless you have found the deflect rune, it is pretty impossible to maintain distance, so I went all in on dual wield. The dodge function was a lot easier to remember so I became a master of that by the end of it, using the bow when I had enough range to start. I'm sure the more I play it, the more comfortable I'll be with the combat but I don't play Dragon Age games for the combat, I play for the story, the characters and the lore. So if I needed to play on the second easiest setting, so be it. companion comment handholding This is minor and it eases off after a while, but at the start the companion commentary to do things before you've even looked at the area was a bit much. I get offering suggestions, but do it once a player has not done the objective after a while. I get explaining new mechanics too, especially to new comers to the game, but there should be a slider to turn off suggestion commentary, especially once you've played it more than once.

Past game decisions- Now I don't have a problem with decisions the Warden or Hawke made having much consequence so further into the future as much of what they did was expanded upon in Inquisition anyway. But the Inquisition and Inquisitor? Someone who is directly linked to what is occurring now? I'd expect more than just - did they like Solas and who did they romance having some mention in this game. (though it seems the latter doesn't matter as my Inquisitor never mentioned their romance so must have only mattered if it was Solas or Dorian).

But it wouldn't have been hard to have mentioned who was running Orlais during their letters to the Rook. Also, in dialogue, would have been nice if they had said who was Divine, how the mages/Templars are helping or that if you asked the Wardens to help they weren't so angry with the Inquisitor but had bigger issues to deal with.

Also with other characters that appear, would it have been hard for Morrigan to at least once mention Kieren as well if she had him? Or if she drank from the Well of Sorrows? (considering she is carrying the memories of Mythal and Flemeth inside her, having drunk from the Well would have meant so much more.)

Or Isabela to mention Hawke if romanced? Dorian I believe does at least make comments if he romanced the Inquisitor, mentioning his Amatus. I guess they wanted them as surprises in game, but I wouldn't have minded a world state slider in the creation menu as that wouldn't have given anything away.

So yeah I think that is a misstep on Bioware's part and the only flaw in the writing for me. (Apart from knowing Flemeth was dead dead, but that's because I love Kate Mulgrew and would have been awesome for Flemeth to have had words with Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain. But her words ' as the music plays we dance', suggests Flemeth knew then her time was up and why she passed what she could through the Eluvian to Morrigan.)

The sacrifice - I don't hate that a character dies at the end. It fits the 'what ever it takes' fight against the insurmountable and I do like a bit of angst in my stories.

But the choice of just two characters I feel, is limiting. Also, the fact is the choice isn't just two people, If you choose Davrin: Assan dies as well. If it was just Davrin, I could pick him to nobly sacrifice himself and Rook would look after Assan. But it's not and I cant bare to loose that griffon. Not when they have only just come back to the world. So Sorry Harding.

Part of me would have loved the ME2 option of doing everything right means everyone survives, but again the theme is regret and doing what ever it takes, even if that means someone willingly sacrifices themselves to save the rest.

So I get it and it was emotional to witness but it meant something. Personally I'd like to think Harding returns to the Stone, that because her body wasn't found, then the Stone took her.

The attack choice- I don't hate the fact you need to choose to go to Minrathous or Treviso. That is a great moment, like choosing mages or Templars. What I don't like is the fact Minrathous loses SO many more points than Treviso - 250 compared to 100 for Treviso.

It should be the same!

In fact Minrathous should be less and Treviso more considering what we are told beforehand:

-Minrathous has a standing army, which has been at war for ages so is honed to repel attacks. Full of war mages who could use very powerful magic to repel a dragon attack. -Treviso is under occupation by the Antaam and has NO army. The Crows are not an army and don't have the infrastructure to be one. They would be sitting ducks compared.

Yet they don't suffer as much from a Dragon Attack and subsequent take over by the Antaam? That makes no sense and once some people know, they wont play the game for the story, they will play tactically...especially knowing the ending fight.

That is probably my biggest grievance with the game and needs to be fixed. Because I'm a Lucanis romancer first and foremost so will always pick Treviso! (I will do one playthrough choosing the opposite eventually🤣just not soon.)

So yeah, those are my issues with the game. Certainly nothing like what some people have been complaining about, which frankly have been bullshit. in all I would give Veilguard an 8 out 10. It's up there in my top games for sure. I can see past the minor flaws to what is still a fantastic game and will play again and again!

[chemkin-c-chickin]

The Letter

Ship - Roolas (Rook x Solas)

.................

After the latest mission, Rook needed a nap. The dream was peaceful enough, and she actually got more then three hours this time.

The letter was on her desk when she opened her eyes.

"Huh... This from Solas?" Rook sat back on the couch to read the contents.

"There is no redemption for me, I want that to be known forever and always.

I know you have been seeing my past, the important ones anyway. You are harsh towards me, and never miss an opportunity to reveal my faults.

Please, keep doing so.

It sounds contradictory, I know. In books, its not so common to have a villain who is self-aware of what he is doing. And I want so deeply to be ignorant of my own action.

I see myself in you, what I could be, what WE could be, and it is painful.

Your dreams make it so.

Why do you dream of us? I half-expected it to be sexual in nature, that was predictable, what I did not expect was dreams of us.. talking.

Walking around on roads of old ruins. Arguing over directions. Listening to me explain the differences between architectural designs.

All quite mundane. One could call them boring.

Why?"

Rook grabbed a paper from the drawer and a quill with ink and wrote a reply.

"When you've got chaos all around you its the mundane stuff that you treasure the most.

Varric said he wanted to convince you to try another option. I think he had the right idea but walking up to you in middle of a ritual was stupid.

If you had just talked to your friends they could have given you other options, or set up evacuation plans, but you didn't trust them. And you still look down on others.

I'm showing you another option in my dreams. It doesn't erase what you did, all the lives that are being lost right now, and people will still hate you. You'll never be forgiven.

Not even by me.

But, it doesn't mean I won't try. After we beat the gods, you could be the man you claim to be. Just a wanderer who loves old ruins and history.

And I'd be there with you. Because I'm not sticking around after all this, either way."

She gets a short reply back the next day,

"Please keep dreaming. I like them."

That might be the most honest conversation he's ever had with her.

[kaija-rayne-author]

9th review in series of Dragon Age Veilguard

70 hours in, 68 actual playtime.

I'm not an asshole disclaimer, if you've read it you can skip to the cut.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I'm on media blackout while I play this, so I'm only getting second-hand info on how awful it is right now in the DA Fandom. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though, every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos ever played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

Spoilers for Dragon Age Veilguard

Section 8 here.

Did I say I didn't hate this game? I lied. I hate it so much it has become a vendetta just to finish it.

With three long games, 14 years of history, so much Lore there really never feels an end to it, 5 books. 6 comics, two or more coffee table books and probably stuff I don't know about to use for inspiration... this game is terrible.

They've stripped it down to the most banal, most puerile, most boring concepts they could possibly find in all of that to use in this travesty of a role playing game.

I'll finish it so I can see just how bad it is and how exactly they'll fuck over Solas some more. And here I was feeling comfy that since Weekes loves Solas that they wouldn't utterly fuck him over?

Whoooo boy, was I wrong. I wanted memories of his time before he woke up in Inquisition. I did not want memories of every cruel thing he'd ever been forced to do to protect tens of thousands of innocents. War is horrible. Those leading wars, regardless of the justified reasons (or not) get their hands bloody. They have to make hard decisions that cost pieces of their souls because no one else will.

I wanted memories of what Arlathan and Elvhen culture was like before everything went went to hell. What did we get? Memories painting Solas as the worst possible version of himself.

And the way they discuss and treat the topic of Mythal... I wonder if it's nice and cozy so far up Mythal's arsehole?

It's revolting when you know everything FleMythal has done, and if you read between the lines of all the lore about Arlathan era Mythal.

I've been told that the third act is the best. Though how anyone even gets to the third act is beyond me. Other than sheer cussedness and a desire to escape politics and the side effects of a pulmonary embolism. Cause that's the only way I've gotten this far.

Did I remember to say that they apparently forgot what aggro was and how that's supposed to work with a multi-player team? My rogue is not a tank. (Nor a rogue because rogues pick fucking locks.) Yet for some reason, he always has aggro. Especially the bigger and harder the enemy is to beat.

Aggro, in case you're reading my ramblings and don't know, stands for aggression/attention of whatever your team is fighting. Whoever did the most damage last is the one who should have aggro. In any decent video game, that's the tank, who is built to take it. They're supposed to keep the bad guys attention so the archers and mages can get it from behind/beside.

But since your side characters don't get skill points at the same rate your player characters do, (fantastic idea that, what utter dipshit came up with that?) Your character, whether they're a DPS or not, always has fucking Aggro.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to fight as a Legolas wannabe when you have several tons of dragon crashing into you because you do the most damage because of an outright shitty levelling system?

I now get to go fight another fucking dragon. That's gonna be fun. (It's my third today) and that'll have me into act 3.

Oh, and the much advertised 'dragon slayer' is a good character, but they're shit at actually killing dragons. I never, ever, thought I would miss Cassandra Inquisition. Because I utterly loathe her as a character, but I miss having competently designed dragon fighters in a game with so many fucking dragons to fight.

...

Make that two dragons.

Section 10.1 here.

[ellwyns]

people you want to know better tag!

ty for the tag @okthisway ♡

tagging @vanoefucks @couseland @gothimp

three ships: i was pining for rhaenyra/alicent this season of hotd. and like the rest of this site i’m on a dragon age kick, so hawke/anders and solas/lavellan

first ship: ten/rose from doctor who absolutely obliterated my tender young heart

last song: rivendell by howard shore, from my studying playlist

last movie: jurassic world. i like the dinosaurs lmao

currently reading: i’m between books atm as i’ve started my masters and i’m drowning in pharmacology readings. if anyone has any easily digestible but well written fantasy book recs please share them!!

currently watching: interview with the vampire s1 and the olympics! my highlights so far have been the 14yo australian skateboarder who won gold, and snoop dogg feeding a carrot to a horse

currently craving: a good ol honk mimimi. good night yall 🥱

[rosella-writes]

RO! GIVE ME CUDDLY SOLAS, RO! I mean, ehem, for today's prompt: Solas x literally anyone for "feeling the rumble of their chest when they talk while cuddling" PLEASE?

@bluewren and @plisuu asked for this too! I decided to keep it platonic and make it Solas and Tulin, since I've wanted an excuse to write this for a while. 💚 Thank youuuuu. For @dadrunkwriting

Relationship: Solas & Tulin, father and son Rating: G Words: 648

~~~

Papae’s voice sounds different in the Waking. 

Of course, now Tulin knew that this was his papae. Before, he had been the Walker, his teacher, the one who’d found him in the Fade and taught him to dream. Tulin had shown him how he’d learned to turn into a mouse, just like Kieran taught him, and he’d sounded just as proud then as he does now. 

Tulin yearns for Solas’s praise. He wants so badly to be near him, but is sure he has to earn it somehow — maybe if he brings an interesting fact he learned, or a new talent, or maybe even a newly-sprouted, rare plant from the garden. His heart still pounds with the knowledge of who he is, and why he’s here, and what he means to Mamae. He’s afraid he’ll do it wrong, whatever it is. 

But Papae seems to be able to tell, and smiles softly at Tulin when he tries to tell him a story Tulin knows Solas already knows. He puts out his hand, as if asking for a hug, but something in his eyes pulls him back. Tulin can tell, right now, that he’s being very careful. 

“Da’len,” he begins, “do you remember the time you showed me how you changed shape?”

Tulin nods and sets aside a tomato sprout in its little cup. It rests just fine on the table in the rotunda — the room Mamae had shut up years ago, only to open it when Papae came back. “I can do it again! It’s easier now. Not as easy as when I’m dreaming but yeah!”

“Do you remember when I held you in my pocket?”

Tulin does. He smiles at the remembrance of how warm and safe he’d felt there. 

Papae sits on the old chaise against the wall, and he crosses one leg over the other and clasps his hands over his knee. His eyes seem old and kind when he nods and says, “Will you show me again? And may I read to you a while in that shape?”

Air whooshes out of Tulin’s lungs. “Oh. Oh yes, that’s okay.”

He’s afraid to show how much he wants that. He doesn’t want to seem too eager, or in too much of a hurry — but he’s never turned so quickly into a mouse before in his life. His fingers itch with the speed with which the magic overtakes them, and the sudden sense of smell almost knocks him dizzy. But before he can orient himself with his new surroundings, a large hand plucks him up from the ground. 

“Incredible, da’len,” Solas hums. “I have not seen such a rapid change since… well, you performed that so naturally I would have thought you had always had the gift.”

The world spins as Solas leans back, and when he’s released, Tulin realises he’s been set upon Papae’s worn-out sweater. Papae’s leaning back in the chaise now, a book in his hands and resting against his belly. Tulin is thrumming with pride, and doesn’t feel so sheepish anymore, so he trots up the length of Papae’s chest and settles under his chin. 

This is nice, he decides as he curls up in the warm curve of Solas’s collar. Not the same as in the dream, but nice. 

Papae keeps his voice low and quiet when he begins to read, as if he’s aware of how sensitive Tulin’s ears are in this shape. His narration of his book is a low rumble, one that Tulin can feel through his whole entire body. He can’t help how sleepy it makes him, even as he tries so so hard to stay awake — he feels safe here, lulled by the vibration of his papae’s voice and the warmth of his shirt and the soft, familiar smell of paper and green, growing things. 

Yes, Papae’s voice sounds different here. But it’s nice. Still nice.

[valpoupdates]

MARCH CALENDAR POSTING...

So much to see, so much to do, so little time ! Lucky for you, here in the Valparaíso Region, we keep track of it just for you ! Unless stated otherwise, these activities are optional. Residents do not have to take part in these if they don't wish to ! These can be used for threads throughout the month but new threads can't be started for these activities once the month is up. Please track the valpocalendar tag to stay updated month to month ( ©️ )

Casablanca Activities

March 14th: Aire Libre will be hosting an all day Japanese movie marathon in celebration of Japan’s White Day, a reverse Valentine’s Day where women generally buy gifts and show grand romantic gestures toward their partners.

10 AM: Asako I & II — Asako, una joven que vive en Osaka, experimenta el amor a primera vista cuando se encuentra con Baku. 1 PM: Kimi no na wa — Dos adolescentes comparten una conexión profunda y mágica al descubrir que están intercambiando cuerpos. 4 PM: Shall We Dance? — El exitoso contador Shohei Sugiyama tiene una esposa amorosa y una hermosa hija, pero por alguna razón se siente insatisfecho con su vida. 7 PM: Your Eyes Tell — Rui es un ex-kickboxer que se encuentra a Akari, una chica ciega. 10 PM: Majo no Takkyūbin — Kiki, de 13 años, se muda a una ciudad costera con su gato parlante, Jiji, para pasar un año sola, de acuerdo con la tradición de su pueblo para las brujas en entrenamiento.

March 15th-17th: With City Hall's assistance, Isidora is hosting the 36th Fiesta de la Vendimia, the Grape Harvest Festival!  It starts each day from 10 AM - 8 PM.  There will be a variety of events to celebrate high quality grapes, delicious wine, and the community around you.  Come enjoy fun games (like sack racing or grape stomping competition), beautiful sights (such as art provided by local artists and the grape maze), the llama petting zoo, and more! 

March 30th: Inherited Escape is hosting a book club from 6:30 PM - 8:30 PM. The book of the month is Pride & Prejudice, a personal favorite of the owner, Oliver Alaya. You do not have to have the book finished ( or read ) in order to come and participate! Snacks and beverages will be provided. Stay updated by following Inherited Escapes, @inheritedlandscapes , on Instagram!

Quilpué Activities

March 1st: Gimnasio O2 Aire is rolling out a new exercise program, and they’re looking for 10 dedicated people to help prove the program’s effectiveness.  You’ll meet Wednesday - Sunday from 6 AM - 7:30 AM for a private group session for 30 days.  Included is a nutritionist consultation, new work-out clothes with the Gimnasio O2 Aire brand, and a floral yoga mat.

March 8th: The Plants and Pants Swap was created by a local Chilean influencer who wanted to emphasize reusing clothes rather than throwing them away in landfills, and they’re hosting the swap again on Sunday from 1 PM - 6 PM in El Jardín.  Bring clothes or plants to trade with others!  Nothing will be sold or bought; only trades.

March 19th-24th: Caos Tattoos is proud to host 2 guest artists: @skars__, a neotraditional artist from Mexico City, and @tayeh_studio, a fine line and microrealism artist from Bogotá!  Please reach out to the artists through their instagram or email the Caos team at caos_tattoos@gmail.cl to schedule with them.  Appointments only for guest artists; no walk-ins.

March 21st: If you’re a new player still learning the ropes, or if you’ve always been interested but never knew where to get started, come to Casa Dragones’ D&D Newbie Night from 6 PM - 11 PM! There will be several tables with experienced dungeon masters ready to help you have the time of your life as a 3rd level character in uniquely fun oneshots!  Space is limited so please sign up online!

March 29th: Sabor 24 Horas is hosting a karaoke night from 9 PM - 3 AM and it is BYOB.  For tonight only, guessing the staff’s favorite song of the week will also give you the opportunity to request for whatever you want that’s not on the menu.

Valparaíso Activities

March 3rd: Chasing Suns and Rescue Mission have teamed up with the Valparaíso Centro Médico for a Mental Health Marathon to help raise awareness about mental health and help raise funds for local nonprofits and programs that provide mental health services to the community.  If you’d like to participate and donate, please contact chasing-suns@hotmail.cl.  If you’d like to volunteer, please email rescate@gmail.cl. 

March 31st: Cerro Barrón Street Market is hosting an Oddities Market from 5 PM - 11 PM.  All vendors will be selling items that align with the theme of oddities.  Expect to see exotic pets, cursed objects, macabre paintings, and unique knick knacks.

Viña del Mar Activities

March 7th: It is International Book Day, and what better way to spend it than at a free children’s book reading event hosted by Palacio Rioja. From 4 PM - 7 PM, there will be several story times by guest readers, arts and crafts where students can draw their favorite scenes from the books being read, as well as several important age-appropriate discussions based on the book themes ( bullying and self-acceptance ).

March 28th: Meet the drag kings of the Valparaíso Region at the Kings of Valparadise Show hosted by Club Divine! From 8 PM - 10 PM, celebrate drag, dance, and performance with a themed cocktail in hand!

[vir-tanadahl]

Timeless

Summary: Isera Lavellan is living in modern Thedas completing her research on plants when her research takes her to a place in the Solasan Mountain range. The discovery of a strange glowing mirror takes her to a world she has never known before where she meets someone she never thought existed. (Find on Ao3) Fen'harel (Solas) x Lavellan

Chapter 4: Beneath the Gaze of Gods

Isera sat quietly on the balcony attached to her bedroom, her gaze fixed on the fading light of the sunset. It had been nearly two weeks since she had arrived in this strange place, and she was no closer to finding a way back home. The days blurred together, most of her time spent trying to breathe life back into the sorry plot of land that passed for a garden. She had managed to salvage a few seeds, planting them carefully, and had been nursing the sickly plants back to health with steady, determined effort.

But the restlessness was starting to creep in. The slow progress weighed on her, and though she had thrown herself into the work, her thoughts always drifted back to the mirror—her way home.

Solas had watched her on the second day she began working the soil. He hadn’t said much. When she asked him if he needed anything, his answer was a simple “no,” before he returned to silently observing her from the bench. It had unnerved her, though she tried to not show it, and she still didn’t understand why he’d done it. Perhaps it had been an attempt to intimidate her, to remind her of the precarious position she was in.

She hadn’t seen him since, but the memory of that day lingered.

Felassan, on the other hand, was always hovering. He would disappear for a few hours, only to reappear with that ever-present cocky smirk, never offering an explanation for where he had been. His sarcasm was a constant companion, and while Isera didn’t mind his company, the way he stared at her—too long, too intently—made her uneasy.

As the sun slipped behind the distant mountains, casting long shadows over the landscape, Isera rose from her seat on the balcony and headed for the door. She had learned of a library here, and tonight, she wanted answers. The spirit guards materialized as soon as she stepped into the hallway, as they always did, demanding to know her destination. Their presence had once startled her, but by now, she had grown somewhat accustomed to their sudden appearances.

“I would like to go to the library, please,” she said, her voice calm and measured. A few days earlier, curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she had tried to touch one of them. Their reaction had been swift and negative, and she had quickly learned to keep her distance.

The guards regarded her in silence for a moment before nodding their approval, leading her down the dimly lit corridors to the library. Once they reached the room, they disappeared, leaving Isera alone with her thoughts. The library was rarely used after sunset, and its quiet solitude was a welcome change.

She stood in the center of the room for a moment, feeling the weight of the knowledge hidden within its walls. Magic. She had heard the term countless times since her arrival, and now she was determined to understand it—to figure out exactly what it was and how it worked in this world. Isera moved quietly along the tall bookcases, her fingers gently brushing the spines of the ancient books as her eyes scanned the titles. It took her a moment to make sense of the writing, the elvish script unfamiliar yet oddly recognizable. Modern elvish, as she had come to learn, was surprisingly close to its ancient counterpart, though that was largely due to the Keepers—those tasked with preserving the language among the Dalish. Only a select few were ever taught to read and write fluently, while most Dalish knew only certain phrases or ceremonial terms.

Isera was one of the lucky few. Her mother, breaking the strict rules of their clan, had taught her the elvish known by the Keepers. It had been a secret between them, a gift Isera hadn’t fully appreciated at the time. But that had been years ago, back in high school, and by the time she entered college, her focus had shifted to the King’s Tongue—the common language used for her studies.

Most elvish textbooks, if they existed at all, were either held by the Dalish or displayed in museums, artifacts meant to "educate" other races about elven culture. Isera had always found that ironic—her people’s history locked away, to be viewed by others from behind glass.

But now, as she stood in this ancient library, surrounded by forgotten knowledge, she felt the weight of that history pressing in on her. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on a particular title, slowly piecing together the meaning. The text was ancient, older than anything she had ever seen, but it was still elvish. She could read it. And she would.

‘This is what happens when your people lose a war,’ Isera thought bitterly. The winner not only slashes your culture, burns your books, and condemns your religion, but also steals your history, presenting it as their own. The humans called the Dalish uncultured and savage, forgetting—or willfully ignoring—that the Dalish, the ancient elvhen, were once a cultured and advanced people. But the victors want the world to forget that. It eases their conscience, justifies the wars, the theft, and the continued silencing of the People.

Her fingers brushed across the spines of the ancient books until one title caught her eye—The Theory of Magic. She paused and pulled the book from the shelf, the worn cover creaking as it opened in her hands. As she flipped through the first few pages, her brow furrowed.

The text began with a brief explanation about controlling magic, but it didn’t answer the most fundamental question: What is magic? She scanned further, finding mentions of various types—blood magic, healing magic, force magic—but nowhere did it explain the nature of magic itself or how it worked.

A flicker of frustration passed through her. The answers she sought felt just out of reach, buried beneath layers of assumptions and techniques that assumed the reader already understood the basics. But for someone like Isera, raised in a world without magic, it remained a mystery.

Isera sighed, shutting the book with a loud thump, her frustration mounting. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the answers she sought were hidden somewhere, just out of reach. Magic, the Keepers had said, was a part of being elven—like breathing was a part of being alive. But there were studies, research, on how breathing worked. How it allowed life to continue. Surely, there had to be something similar for magic. There just had to be.

Her thoughts swirled as she moved further down the aisle, eyes scanning the shelves for any title that might hold the key. But a loud chiming noise snapped her out of her reverie, echoing through the library like a bell. Isera froze, her heart pounding as the sound of yelling filled the chamber.

She instinctively moved to the side, pressing herself against the shelves, hiding in the shadows of the towering bookcases.

“You need to stop inciting them,” a voice rang out, firm and commanding, yet there was an unexpected softness woven through the words. It cut through the stillness like a blade, but the gentle undercurrent tempered the sharpness. The speaker’s tone held the kind of authority that brooked no argument, but the slight pause, the calm edge, suggested restraint—a quiet plea hidden beneath the demand.

Isera held her breath, her ears straining to catch the conversation. A familiar chuckle followed, low and amused.

“They were insulting you,” Solas countered, his voice casual, almost dismissive, as he cleared his throat. He leaned back slightly, his posture relaxed, as though the remark alone was enough to justify his actions. There was no apology in his tone—only a quiet certainty, as if the offense he’d taken on her behalf required no further explanation.

“And now you have a head injury,” the woman retorted, her voice tinged with both amusement and exasperation.

From her hiding spot behind the bookcases, Isera peeked through a gap, her breath catching as she caught sight of the familiar glittering armor. Fresh blood glistened on Solas’s forehead, a stark contrast to the shine of his usually composed demeanor. The woman, clad in similar armor, was already tending to his wound, her movements precise. Too scared—and too curious—to sneak away, Isera remained rooted in place, watching intently.

“If healed properly, there will be a small scar above your eyebrow, little wolf,” the woman said softly, casting a spell as her hand began to glow with a brilliant white light. Isera gasped quietly, mesmerized by the sight of magic unfolding before her eyes. The woman’s hand hovered over Solas’s forehead, and Isera watched as the wound slowly knit together.

“I’ve healed as much as I can,” the woman informed him, her voice now clinical. “Felassan mentioned a new healer. Perhaps they can assist with an ointment to encourage the rest of the healing.”

Solas looked up at her, his expression hardening in confusion. “We do not have a healer,” he replied, his tone terse. “We found a trespasser, and she has knowledge of using plants for healing.”

The woman hummed thoughtfully. “Oh? Is it the same trespasser who’s been watching us since we walked through the eluvian?” Her voice grew louder, sharper, as she turned her head slightly, her gaze sweeping toward Isera’s hiding spot. “Come out, dear,” she called, her tone a mix of amusement and command.

Isera stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest. Solas’s head jerked toward the shelves, his eyes scanning between the books, searching for her. The sudden shift in the atmosphere made her blood run cold. When she didn’t move, the woman’s voice cut through the silence again, this time harsher, a command that left no room for disobedience.

Reluctantly, Isera stepped out from the shadows, gripping the book tightly in her hand as if it could shield her from what was to come. Her feet felt heavy as she walked down the corridor toward them, each step laced with fear. Her mind raced, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She had been caught. Spying.

The fear of death loomed large in her mind—Solas had wanted her dead since the moment she arrived. What was stopping him now? She hadn’t meant to spy on them, hadn’t intended to be caught up in this. She only wanted to learn about magic, to find answers. But now she was here, and the consequences seemed inevitable.

Isera bit the edge of her tongue as she came to a stop in front of Solas and the woman. The air between them was heavy with unspoken tension, and Isera could feel the weight of their scrutiny. The woman began to circle her, slowly, like a predator sizing up its prey. “She is short for an elf, don’t you think?” the woman mused aloud, her eyes briefly flicking toward Solas, as if inviting his agreement.

Isera’s heart pounded in her chest, but she kept her face impassive, her gaze steady as she followed the woman’s movements.

“What is your name, child?” the woman demanded, her voice sharp and probing.

Isera didn’t respond. The woman, now standing a head taller than her, seemed unimpressed, her eyes narrowing as she leaned in slightly. “Does she speak, Solas, or is she defiant?”

Solas, who had been observing quietly, stood to his feet. His presence alone was enough to add another layer of tension to the moment. “She can speak,” he replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “She is defiant.”

The woman hummed thoughtfully. “What is her name, then?” she asked, turning her sharp gaze to Solas.

There was a brief pause, and for the first time, Solas seemed momentarily unsure. “I do not know, Mythal,” he answered, his face neutral, though there was a subtle shift in his posture.

At the name, Isera jerked her head back in disbelief. ‘Mythal? The goddess from the legends?’ Her thoughts raced as the realization hit her. Mythal huffed in response, turning her golden eyes toward Solas. “You’ve lost your manners, Dread Wolf, since the start of this war,” she tutted, her voice laced with a reprimand.

The words struck Isera like a blow, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. ‘The Dread Wolf?’ Her gaze snapped toward the man she had known as Solas for the few weeks, her mind reeling. ‘The Dread Wolf from the stories—the one who locked away the gods, who damned the elves?’ Fear crept up her spine, her understanding of the situation unraveling as the truth sank in.

“She seems to know our names,” Mythal said with a small grin, turning her attention back to Isera, clearly amused by her reaction. “Now, tell us yours,” she demanded, her voice silky but commanding.

Isera stood before them, her heart racing, doing her best to mask her fear. The golden armor they wore gleamed in the low light, their presence overwhelming. She forced herself to speak, her voice quieter than she intended. “Isera,” she answered, refusing to meet their eyes, her gaze fixed on the ground.

Mythal hummed thoughtfully, her eyes flicking to Solas before returning to Isera. “She doesn’t carry herself like a slave. No vallaslin,” she observed, her gaze dropping to the book Isera clutched tightly. “And she can read.” Her tone was laden with curiosity as she turned back to Isera, her golden eyes gleaming. “Which does bring the curious question—who are you?”

Isera kept her gaze fixed forward, her heart pounding in her chest. “No one,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mythal’s hum deepened, her curiosity piqued. “Yet you are here,” she noted, her voice calm but with an edge of intrigue.

Isera shook her head, her words coming faster now, her fear bubbling up. “I’m a prisoner,” she said, her mind spinning with the implications. She could feel the rising panic—the same kind of panic she’d felt once when she was twenty, pulled over for speeding, shaking uncontrollably as the officer asked for her information. But this was so much worse. Far worse.

‘They can’t know. They’ll kill me,’ she thought, her hands trembling. The idea of telling them she was from the future felt absurd—even I struggle to believe it, she thought. ‘Why would they?’

“Prisoner, you say?” Mythal’s grin widened, her voice smooth and almost teasing. “I see no cuffs on your wrists, child. And yet, here you are, in the library, in secret.”

Isera's brow furrowed, her confusion deepening at the implication of sneaking. The weight of Mythal's gaze pressed down on her as the goddess seated herself, never breaking eye contact. Isera shifted uncomfortably under that unblinking stare, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I asked the spirit guards to bring me here," she murmured, her words fragile in the quiet space. "It's... quieter after sunset."

Mythal leaned forward slightly, her eyes gleaming with interest as they flicked to the book in Isera’s hands. “The Theory of Magic?” she read aloud, her tone light but curious. She looked back at Isera, waiting, her eyes dancing with unspoken questions. When Isera didn’t immediately respond, Mythal’s silence became a demand.

With a sigh, Isera pulled the book closer to her chest, feeling small under the scrutiny. “I wanted to understand how magic works. I came here to find books about it,” she admitted, feeling like a child caught in the act of wrongdoing. Mythal’s gaze never wavered as she held out her hand, silently asking for the book.

Reluctantly, Isera handed it over, watching as Mythal flipped through the pages, her expression thoughtful. “Did you not learn the basics of magic growing up?” Mythal inquired, her tone almost incredulous as she passed the book to Solas, who began leafing through it with the same measured curiosity.

“No,” Isera replied, the single word heavy with the weight of her outsider status.

Mythal nodded slowly, a thoughtful hum escaping her. “How strange. Neither slave nor noble, yet something ancient stirs within you—something old and untamed. I wonder what it is.” She tilted her head, her gaze flicking briefly to Solas. “You sense it too, don’t you?”

Solas snapped the book shut, the loud crack echoing through the room. His face remained unreadable, a mask of impassive control, though a flicker of something dark lurked behind his eyes. Whatever he had been searching for in those pages was not there. "Perhaps," he answered, his voice clipped, offering no more than the barest acknowledgment.

Mythal chuckled softly, her amusement laced with something unreadable as she turned her attention fully to him. “Be a dear,” she mused, her tone playful yet sharp, “and escort your prisoner to the apothecary. Perhaps she’ll stop the bleeding.”

Isera blinked, momentarily thrown by the teasing note in the goddess’s command, but held her tongue. Mythal’s words danced on the edge of mockery, yet Isera sensed something deeper beneath.

Solas—the Dread Wolf, the god of rebellion and mischief—remained silent. His jaw tightened for a brief second, his protest no more than a sigh, a near-invisible shake of his head. And then, without a word, he turned and strode past her, a silent signal for Isera to follow. She hesitated, casting a final glance at Mythal, who watched them with an unsettling calm, before slipping into step behind him.

Solas leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, watching with disinterest as Isera shifted through the various jars of ointments and salves. It had been a while since Felassan had escorted her down here, and now, confronted with shelves of unfamiliar substances, she realized just how out of her depth she was. The labels, if there were any, were either faded or indecipherable, leaving her guessing at the contents.

Finally, she turned to Solas, the frustration evident in her voice. “Did the previous healer keep a ledger of what the jars are?” she asked, hoping for some guidance.

“Perhaps,” Solas responded, his tone flat, the slightest edge of boredom creeping in. “I did not speak to the previous healer often.” He didn’t even glance at her, his attention elsewhere, as if the whole situation barely warranted his notice.

Isera sighed, biting back her irritation as she returned to searching through the jars. The silence between them felt heavy, thick with unspoken tension, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Solas moved to the center table, his gaze fixed on Isera as she continued rifling through the jars. “Are you a hedge-mage?” he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

Isera paused, turning to look at him, uncertainty flashing across her face. She didn’t know what the term meant, but the way he said it made it sound like an insult. His eyes stayed on her, sharp and unyielding, as if waiting for her to confirm whatever low opinion he had already formed.

“I don’t know what that is,” she admitted, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. She watched him for a moment longer, gauging his reaction before turning her back on him, continuing her search. As her fingers brushed over a jar filled with white powder, she opened it and inhaled the scent. Yarrow, she thought—a plant useful for stopping bleeding.

Solas placed his hand on the table, the movement deliberate, as he leaned in slightly. His gaze remained sharp, his voice dripping with disdain. “It is surprising,” he began, his words slow and cutting, “that you’ve managed to live to adulthood with such a complete lack of understanding of magic and barely the skill of a novice.”

The condescension was palpable, a thinly veiled insult. He let the words settle before continuing. “If we rely too much on magic to heal, the body grows dependent. It weakens. That is why.”

Isera stared at the jar in her hand, her back still turned to him, processing his words. His attempt to insult her for her lack of magical knowledge was clear, the disdain in his voice palpable. He wanted to remind her of how little she knew, to put her in her place.

She nodded slowly, though not in agreement, but in acknowledgment of his arrogance. As she grabbed two more jars filled with powder, her mind stayed on task. She recognized one from when Felassan had advised her on her burn. The other had the faint scent of fungi, likely containing trace amounts of toxins. If it was deep mushroom, it could still be dangerous if introduced into the bloodstream.

Isera turned toward the table, placing the three jars on top with a quiet clink. Her gaze locked onto Solas, refusing to waver despite the discomfort gnawing at her. She wouldn’t let him make her feel incompetent, not this time. “Pick one,” she said evenly, motioning to the jars before her.

Solas’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening at her defiance. The air between them felt heavier, charged with unspoken challenge. “All three stop bleeding?” he asked, his voice edged with suspicion, as though testing her, daring her to falter.

Isera shrugged, her gaze locked onto his, unwavering. “I don’t know, do they?” she replied, her tone deliberately neutral, yet the challenge was clear. She wasn’t going to tell him which jar held the yarrow. Let him figure it out.

Her words hung in the air, daring him to test her knowledge or question her resolve.

Solas’s expression darkened, clearly unamused by her defiance. His hand hovered over the jars for a moment before he grabbed one—the jar filled with powdered deathroot berries.

Isera’s fingers closed around his wrist with a firm grip, halting his movement. Her gaze was sharp as she stared him down. “That,” she said, her voice low but steady, “is dried deathroot berries. If the powder gets into your bloodstream, you’d have a fever and start hallucinating within five minutes.” She leaned in slightly, her tone cold and measured. “And the longer it stays on your wound, the thinner your blood becomes from the toxins.”

She paused deliberately, letting the words hang in the air. Her breath was slow, controlled, in contrast to the tension crackling between them. “Surprising, really,” she continued, her voice now laced with mockery, “that you’ve lived this long with such an astounding lack of understanding of herbs and their healing properties.”

Her words, a sharp echo of the insult he’d thrown at her earlier, cut through the silence. Solas’s eyes flickered—just for a moment, they widened ever so slightly, a subtle reaction that, if Isera hadn’t been watching so closely, she might have missed.

Isera released his hand, the brief contact cold and final, and slid the correct jar toward him. “This is what you’re looking for. Yarrow,” she said, her voice clipped, controlled. “A small dab on your forehead will stop the bleeding.”

She stepped back, the distance between them deliberate, her gaze never softening as it met his. The air between them was heavy, and she could feel the weight of his stare, but she didn’t flinch. Without giving him another moment of her attention, she added, “Have a good night, Fen’harel.”

The name dripped from her lips, bitter and sharp, laced with a quiet venom. She didn’t wait for a response, didn’t linger to see his reaction. Instead, she turned and strode out of the chamber, her steps steady, her heart racing beneath her calm exterior.