Inan'abelas // DAI; Solas

The Price of Sorrow

"For a few seconds they looked silently into each other's eyes, and the distant and impossible suddenly became near, possible, and inevitable."

-Leo Tolstoy

~~◇~~

Not one person was sure how to proceed without feeling some type of sick, dreadful urge to throw up, followed by the rushing wave of shaky anticipation that followed. Maybe it was one feeling that caused the other, or maybe it was something in the food they ate. Solas was certainly positive that it was due to the former, their hearts racing as they dashed on horseback through the simmering sands of the Western Approach. The sun never seemed to set here, and if it did, the moon only dared to show its face for a few hours before the sun peeked over the dunes again.

His exhaustion was relieved by her presence, though. She was hesitant to give her blood willingly, at first, shaken by thought of it being some joke just to get her essence in a bottle. But after Solas explained its true intent in further detail, she was more than happy to prick her finger for him. 

So now she lay bare across his chest, sitting just above the hard bone of his wolf jaw necklace in a tiny round bottle so that the two did not clatter. He wouldn't want the bottle breaking, spilling her blood over the front of his robes.

Each heard the sound of swords clashing and bones breaking in the distance, readying themselves to fight as the scene of the battle drew near. The soldiers were the first to lay siege upon Adamant, assessing the strength of the corrupted Wardens and their demon counterparts, and taking the brunt of the fall. By the time Varia and her small party arrived, it was mostly lingering demons that remained. 

"There are areas on the upper ramparts that need clearing out!" Cullen's voice boomed over the sound of metal against metal, and metal against thick demon flesh. He had drawn his own sword in the midst of it all, slashing through a few Wardens that were proving to be too challenging for a small group of regular Inquisition soldiers. 

Varia and her party raced up flights upon flights of steps, taking no time to admire the ancient influences of both Orlesian and Dwarven hands that had once touched the fortress. Once a time ago, this place would have been a marvel, a spectacle to behold upon the ancients. Now, it had been left to dwell among the raging sandstorms and cold, lonely nights that inhabited the Approach. Not to mention it's current shelter for an army of Grey Wardens-turned-demons, their commander, and some strange, out of place Magister. Nothing about this place was spectacular anymore. It's appeal had been long lost to time.

One more flight of stairs and the party happened upon a small battle between Hawke, Anders, and a few rage demons. It was over just as they arrived, the smell of smoke and sulfur still lingering in the air around them.

"You finally made it," Hawke called above the sound of loud clashing swords against swords from the level above them.

The look on Anders' face was troubling, his eyes wandering and all over the place. It made sense. He was a Warden amongst the many others that were here, likely hearing the Calling just as they were. It was very possible that Justice could emerge, or that he would be lured just as the other Wardens had been.

"Where's Stroud?" Varia asked, tucking her daggers back into her belt for the time being.

"He's just up ahead," Hawke replied. "I told him to go on ahead and scout out the potential danger. We should probably go and catch up with him."