War and Tranquility

seven

They stood silently in the rain, watching the slow approach of the unknown army; a small group for such bravery. Solas - at the front of his own small yet powerful army - scanned the ranks of those that trotted ever closer. He saw no one that struck him as familiar.

Tension built as they progressed. When they were at least three hundred yards out, Solas felt the thrill of the fight building inside of him. Electricity flowed over his skin like cool blue waves. It filled his body with a magnificent need to expel the energy. He stifled a smile as it flickered behind his eyes, pulsing with absolute urgency.

At two hundred yards they halted in unison. Silence forced it's way over the field, even the rain seemed to break for this moment. But lightning still flashed across the pale purple dawn, and thunder still clashed distantly.

A single woman, bearing no vallaslin, stepped through the bodies making up the front line. Her hair was a vibrant silvery shade of blonde, flowing down in delicate locks that embraced her body.

She was a magnificent creature, delicate and fierce in a very sophisticated way. She held herself with pride and her very presence demanded attention and respect.

She stepped deliberately, every step seeming to have a point to make. She stopped exactly half way between the two armies and waited for Solas to come the rest of the way. He sighed, locking away the power that had made him so giddy a moment earlier.

"Harea." She smiled, teeth gleaming fantastically as she offered her hand to be kissed.

He took it carefully and kissed the top of her hand. Smiling slyly at her as he did so. "Harea," he repeated. "Ironic, yes?"

She chuckled dryly. "I suppose so."

Fen'Harel smiled, magic in the area pushed against him desperately. She tilted her head slightly, sensing his pull on the elements. She grinned again.

"I have come bearing a warning."

"And what might that be?" He asked.

"End this."

He snorted, but offered no reply. He had no plans to stop until his thirst for revenge had been quenched. He offered a small smile, not unpleasant or malicious in any form. In honesty, he admired her tenacity; thinking that she might succeed in fighting against him. None other ever had.

"I am not the one who has done this," he said at last, "not the one that has brought so much fear upon the world."

She canted her head, long waves of hair swayed along with her movement. He noted that her hair was dry even though the weather was unsightly. A spell perhaps. Maybe it wasn't any such magic and this was just her physical form. The physical form of a spirit of justice. He took a deep breath, yes, that was it. She was no woman, she was a spirit.

"Are you not the one known as Fen'harel?" She gleamed. "One calling itself the Dread Wolf, is not one that inspires fear?"

"If you have come on behalf of my namesake you are mistaken. This is a rebellion. All is fair."

Harea leered at him. "Nothing is so simple." Her jaw flexed.

The image of a young man, skewered to the end of his staff hurtled through his mind, followed by the deaths of many others, undeserving of such a demise. He frowned at the spirit for its display. "Why not show yourself for what you really are? A spirit of Justice."

Harea wore a sad smile. "This is your only chance, Solas," she stated. Then she turned and retreated back towards her men. "End this madness."

He watched the army turn and go back the way they had come, Harea dissolving into the mass of bodies as they marched in unison. "It is too late," he answered softly.