Sisters of Tevinter

Veil Thread

        "To activate the thread, you'll have to touch it. I believe your mark will act as a sort of wind up key." 

        Jor stared at the mage blankly for a moment, then pointed weakly to Kaisen. "But you said-"

        "You will be fine," Solas said patiently. "There is no danger- unless your sister decides to take what does not belong to her." 

        Kaisen absently cracked her knuckles, examining her nails. 

        Jor bit her lip, but she trusted the mage's judgement. Carefully, she reached out to lay her hand on the rings of the globe. 

         Her mark lit in a burst of green light. The brightness made Jor wince, tensing in exoectation of pain, but the feeling coursing up her arm was anything but. It was almost soothing- a gentle rush of power, a feeling of control. 

         The rings began to revolve in gentle circles around the orb, illuminated as if from within with the same green light. 

        "Woah," Jor breathed. 

       "What does it do?" Varric asked, rubbing Dane's ears. 

        "It sews shut the tear in the Veil, as though it were a curtain. It will prevent new Fade Rifts from forming." Solas smiled slightly at Jor, but there was something different about the look. He was studying her face. 

       Jor blanched and slowly removed her hand from the Thread, internally quailing as the certain comfort of power left her grasp. Solas' smile grew gentle, as if he understood. The scholar turned away and set her journal back in her satchel. 

       Cassandra tapped impatient fingers against her shield. "We should make camp." 

     "I second that," Krem put in helpfully. 

     "Follow." Kaisen turned and patted her leg for Dane to trot beside her as she vanished into the trees. She lead them onward to a large clearing, mountain rock sloping upward on the west side. Krem settled down to start a fire as Bull leaned against the stone. Solas rolled out his bedroll and stretched out on his back, his staff beside him. 

      Varric pulled a quilt from his bag as Dane paced in a circle and flopped down in the moss with a disgruntled groan. The dwarf smiled and draped the heavy blanket over the mabari, sitting beside him. 

      Kaisen settled near the embers Krem was breathing life into, running a small whetstone over one of her daggers. 

       Jor slumped down beside Bull, her back pressed to a boulder. The qunari glanced down at her, flicking an idle finger from his folded arms. "That mark. Does it hurt?" 

       "Sometimes." 

       "Gross thing, magic." 

      "I'd disagree if I had the energy." Jor smiled slightly up at him. "You can talk to Solas if you want to learn more. I've always been fascinated by it." 

      "Might do that. Probably not." The qunari shrugged. "It's much easier to hit things with your fists or your maul than doing damage with your head- or whatever you'd call that." He tapped his palm, glancing at her. 

       "Easier. But arguably less fun." 

       "My turn to disagree," Bull rumbled, grinning. 

       "To each his own." 

       Bull nodded slowly, contemplating. Then he slid down to sit beside her, his arms draped over his knees. "Tell me more about the mark."