full image - Repost: [spoilers all] Dragon Age: Pride (short story) (from Reddit.com, [spoilers all] Dragon Age: Pride (short story))
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Fan theory disguised as a very short story. It describes the reason behind the Evanuris' treachery, and how Solas managed to acquire power required to erect the veil.https://ift.tt/B84yKut Age: PrideTime and time again she would oppose his judgment. Sometimes openly, but often in the subtlest of ways. He very much preferred the latter, as the former was a resounding cue that his authority over her had been a fragile facade. Alas, she had decided to challenge him.When she rose from her seat, the rest of the newly formed council fell silent, granting her their undivided attention. He felt dismissed, and it hurt him deeply. His chagrin sent his thoughts into disarray, and he barely paid any notice to the proceedings. The devastating effects of perpetual exposure to calling, and other matters of utmost importance discussed in this summit, did not trouble him any longer. His mind was preoccupied picturing dozens of conversations – in each she is humiliated, and he is triumphant. He resolved to confront her upon their return to their citadel.---He stayed close behind her as they traversed the ever-changing landscape of the Crossroads. Not a single soul knew how to navigate the intricate network of eluvians better than her. It was as if she willed the weave of dreams abundant in "the place between" to manifest the path, rather than followed it. It did not take long until they found themselves in front of an inconspicuous mirror, no different than any other erected in this mysterious realm. It emitted a soft hum that only the two of them could hear, and as she placed her palm on the frame, its perfectly smooth metallic surface responded with emerald glimmer. Swirls of fade currents rushed towards the eluvian, infusing it with impressive amount of power required to bend time and space to the will of the user. The portal started manifesting, flooding the entire area with verdant brilliance.Standing at a distance, her companion was engulfed in a torrent of oppressive darkness bursting out of her body. He looked back, and gasped at how unimaginably far her massive shadow outstretched. A mere inkling of a thought that he appeared insignificant filled him to the brim with rage. His right arm contorted in a spasm of arcane flux. A host of crackling azure squiggles surged down from his shoulder towards his open palm, coalescing and growing to the size of his hand in the briefest of instants. The power that could halt the advance of a titan screeched in anticipation and then obediently dwindled down to significantly more modest proportions, but not at his behest. He froze, unable to move or utter a single sound.While she molded the fabric of fade, she could feel the slightest shift in the air around her, the faintest echo of an incantation. He knew that all too well, and yet...Her lips broke into a smirk, but there was no hint of contempt, only disappointment. The tempest that had raged about them gave way to foreboding calm, while the eluvian grew cold. She raised her hand, slowly clenching her fist. His distorted silhouette, reflected in the mirror, repeated the motion. The embers of once terrifying power that still glowed in his hand detonated, violently pinning him to the ground.The mist dissipated, revealing a most unflattering sight: it appeared as if he attempted to roll backwards, but was frozen in time midway, his legs comically hauled behind his head. She approached him.'You would have made an excellent farmer.', she noted, as she appraised a streak of turned up soil ploughed by her would-be assailant. 'The god of the petty is a far more fitting moniker for you.'She turned back to the mirror and resumed her task.---Over the years that followed the formation of the Pantheon, the rift between Elgar'nan and Mythal widened. The sheer scope of their grand keep, along with its many vast halls and a host of docile servants, permitted a virtually solitary life. They only met when the council duties demanded it. Mythal preferred to spend her time in the Fade, often joined by the knowledgeable Solas; together they uncovered many of its secrets. Whereas Elgar'nan rarely left the premises of their fortress, lest he risk others notice the alarming absence of her company.He resented this state of affairs, but in time came to welcome such arrangement. Eventually, he ceased to maintain the impression of a strong unified front. To the contrary, due to his efforts, the rest of the Evanuris were made aware of discord in the ranks of their unspoken leaders. By means of spies, coded messages and secrecy magic, Elgar'nan spread rumors, told lies, and spoke half-truths. When put together, they painted a grim picture.Among the gods, Mythal was the only one who did not require a sophisticated network of proxies, both animate and inanimate, to channel her power. Confrontation with the Dragon Queen was always inevitable, but lately had been approaching at an accelerated pass. Her feverish opposition to calling under the guise of compassion was clearly an attempt to undermine blind devotion of their followers. Worse yet, what if suppressing the divine tune would let Mythal discover the keys to their godhood? The Pantheon would have made their move against Mythal a long time ago, had it not been for Fen'Harel and Elgar'nan. But unequivocal warnings from the All-Father himself made it clear that time for caution and reservation had ended. There was no choice but to act, regardless of whether Elgar'nan was plotting against or alongside Mythal.---Had birds been able to soar that high, the apex of the Great Spire of Arlathan would have appeared to them as a bent carriage wheel, positively not fit to facilitate transportation. An arrangement of spindles, connected by a thread of metal and stone, extended from what looked like an axle, forming a winding rim.Mythal emerged from an eluvian alongside Elgar'nan and Fen'Harel. They stepped onto a large platform that could easily house a small regiment of elven forces. She did not require entering empty council chambers to know that Evanuris were yet to arrive – their presence was palpable and unmistakable. The presence that sundered the sky and announced itself with a deafening blast! In an instant, a tsunami of monstrous force crashed against the spire. Breathing was rendered nearly impossible, as if the air itself was swapped with pure arcane. The absurd pressure found only in the deepest trenches of oceans could crush anyone, safe for a goddess.Their sudden appearance left Mythal staggered, but still standing. She instinctively raised her hands to cover her ears in response to cries of agony that threatened to overwhelm her. What looked like an enormous construct of flesh, scales, wings and machinery, wriggled and thrashed, suspended above one of the neighboring platforms. Once a majestic creature, it had been diminished to a conduit of energy that afforded the Evanuris their status. Its chest was split open, revealing a convoluted knot of cords that draped over a gargantuan mass of raw lyrium beneath it. Delicate mechanisms that provided the poor creature a semblance of comfort broke down and precipitated it towards insanity. Five more partook in this terrible symphony of pain.The unrelenting assault unleashed upon Mythal scattered the barrier she had erected as if it was made of dust. On the verge of erasing the accursed Queen of Dragons, the entire world of the treacherous gods was reduced to her. All they could see was her, until the shadow of the Dread Wolf invaded their realm, prompting the startled Evanuris to abruptly halt their attack. Inexplicably, Fen'Harel broke through the raging tempest of raw power, and was able reach Mythal without their noticing it. Gasping for air, she collapsed to her knee. Strips of crimson soaked her clothes. Fen'Harel cast away his dagger, and hastily lowered Mythal to the ground. Tears streamed down his cheeks."Oh Mythal, I am so sorry. We misjudged the depth of their desperation. I could not bear to see your work die along with you."In what would become the single most horrifying act of blood magic, Solas drew upon the remainder of Mythal's life force and forcibly expelled it out of her body and onto himself. She soared up in the air, as if possessed. The strength of her scream drowned every other sound and terrified the broken pantheon to their core. Ignoring her pleas and the unspeakable pain he caused her, Fen'Harel grew more powerful as he continued to feed onto Mythal's anguish. Once he completed the ritual, her lifeless body fell on the floor, and his power matched theirs.Solas could clearly see the invisible threads that tethered the lyrium dragons to their elven masters. His hand sliced through the air, shifting arcane currents and activating a mystical sequence that thrust the gargantuan beasts back to their cages. The threads grew thinner.In utter disbelief, the Evanuris attempted to flee. The mirrors came to life and offered salvation. They entered the portals hoping to vanish among the many intricate mazes of the Crossroad, and eventually reach their strongholds. Instead, they found themselves in the shadow of the Great Spire that they had left just moments ago. The surroundings, however, suggested a greater passage of time. It appeared as if the Evanuris were the only inhabitants of a once sprawling city. The bizarre sky above them did not look like anything they had seen in Thedas. Most concerning, however, was the absence of the divine tune. The threads were severed.---According to Fen'Harel's calculations, the Evanuris lacked the strength to break through the veil he cast over Thedas. Doing so left him unable to tap into the source of his own power, but the same was true of the now former elven gods. Their nature would be their own undoing, thought Solas. They would act as a beacon to all manner of malevolence that tends to manifest itself in the Fade, given an appropriate template; the Evanuris should prove an ideal donor. Eventually they were bound to deplete their reserves and fall prey to endless tides of crazed spirits.Meanwhile, scores of former residents of Arlathan huddled around a barren patch of land that had been the capitol of the Elven empire not so long ago. The subjugation of the calling ceased, lifting the fog off their minds. But with freedom came thoughts, and thoughts brought an avalanche of previously unexperienced or forgotten emotions. Lacking purpose, homeless, suffering from the incessant chatter in their heads, they only wished for tranquility. What Solas and Mythal once considered a gift, their people saw as torture inflicted upon them by the loathed Fen'Harel. It wasn't long until Solas would come to share their disdain.The weight of Mythal's death grew heavier with each passing moment. The certainty, with which he decided that murdering his friend was the only option, appalled him. Or was his lack of hesitation born out of love for Mythal? The lack of hesitation, or the absolute belief in one's own infallibility? Solas had always considered doubt a foreign concept, now his thoughts were ensnared by it. Whenever he believed he had found the answers to his many questions, a new one appeared, and compelled him to begin his search anew. For an outside observer it appeared as if Solas was placed under a spell. He would spend hours at a time, motionless, thinking the same thoughts over and over again, until exhaustion provided a short reprieve. Along with debilitating rumination came grief, disappointment, and apathy. Eventually, staying conscious turned unbearable.Many a day he spent wandering the endless paths that riddled the crust of the world. He walked in complete darkness, yet he knew exactly where to step. The closer he got to his goal, the stronger he heard, or rather felt dissonant notes, attempting to arrange themselves into a melody he's grown so accustomed to over the years. Eventually, the constant noise gave way to deep rumbling of thunder that rolled through the tunnel, while its distant walls pulsed with blue light. He felt rain on his skin – this meant that his journey was nearly at an end. His way now meandered among heaps of colossal rocks that littered the seemingly infinite expanse of this lost world. He stopped in front of a mound that still retained a vaguely humanoid shape, appearing to claw at a hole in its chest. Solas climbed inside the hollow, and used what remained of his power to immerse himself into dreamless
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