The first thing Arethin did when she returned to Skyhold was go to bed and not get up again until the next day. Everyone else did much the same, Cassandra retreating to Arethin's bed and holding her close, Dorian locating his dwarven paramour and the two of them disappearing into Dorian's rooms, Sera dragging Dagna to her little tavern corner, and Iron Bull and Solas vanishing into some secluded corner of Skyhold.
When Arethin and Cassandra finally got up again, they had to get to another meeting. No one was particularly happy about it.
“With what happened with the Orlesian Wardens, we need to make sure it does not happen to the other Wardens,” Arethin said.
Surana nodded. “As far as I can tell, Corypheus was specifically targeting them,” she said. “The other Wardens have been hearing it, but everyone I know has been trying to ignore it or find out what's been going on.”
“Why would he target a specific group?” Leliana asked.
“It is possible he was accounting for the limitations of time and geography,” Solas said. “If there is something he needs and it is in Orlais, then it would make sense to target Orlesian Wardens.”
“The Venatori activity has all been in the south,' Josephine said. “Concentrated in ruins in particular, further south as time goes on.”
“Is it possible he's looking for something specific?” Arethin asked.
“Many elvhen ruins hold unique and powerful artifacts,” Solas said. “It is possible he is looking for something like the orb.”
“Or a method to gain control of the eluvian network,” Morrigan pointed out.
“Not likely,” Arethin said. “We'd know about it.”
“What if it was a part of the network that was isolated?” Felassan suggested, exchanging a look with Solas. “A lot of the mirrors were damaged over the years, and any eluvians would be an advantage for him.”
“We're securing all the mirrors we can find,” Merrill said. “If it's eluvians he's after, he hasn't found the same ones we have.”
“He appears to be the most focused on the southern parts of Thedas,” Leliana said, indicating a map that showed all the Venatori activity so far. “Is there anything important in this area that he could be using?”
Solas and Felassan bent over the map.
“Isn't there a temple to Mythal around...here?” Felassan pointed to a spot in the Korcari Wilds.
“Perhaps—however I would have to find an accurate map of Elvhenan to determine for sure,” Solas said, his brow furrowed. “Everything has changed so much...”
“I don't think there used to be a forest here,” Felassan agreed.
“There might be something here he could use,” Solas said. “Of course, there are many other ruins to the west and north that he could investigate as well. Elvhenan went as far north as Tevinter—however most ruins would not be intact enough to plunder after all this time.”
“We should focus on the Venatori activity,” Arethin decided. “It's something specific.”
“I agree,” Josephine said.
“In the meantime, we should work upon improving our forces,” Cassandra said. “We cannot confront Corypheus unless our army matches his.”
“We also need to examine the issue of the Veil,” Solas said. “It is entirely likely Corypheus may try to damage it again. Too much damage from an unpracticed hand will lead to ruin.”
“And the only way to prevent that is to...?” Arethin prompted.
Solas sighed. “We cannot repair it at this stage,” he said. “Anything you do will be temporary. It has gone thousands of years with no maintenance.”
“Is there truly no salvaging it?” Cassandra asked, worried. “Would removing it entirely not be disastrous?”
“The Veil is artificial, a weapon,” Felassan said. “It was never meant to be there that long.”
“The Fade seems to cause many of our problems,” Barris said. “What would happen if it were to die, somehow? Would all mages become Tranquil?” the question had been raised before, but there had been no explanation given in detail.
“All people would become Tranquil,” Solas said. “Even those with the barest connection to the Fade. The absolute best-case scenario would be the dwarven situation—however I am not sure how it came to pass.”
“What do you mean?” Vhelan asked, raising her eyebrows.
“In the time of Elvhenan, dwarves dreamed and used magic as the elvhen did,” Solas explained.
Vhelan blinked. “We've—well, we've been researching some of the older thaigs, but...”
“I believe it is possible that the dwarven kingdom used some modified version of the Veil upon their own people, possibly to try and prevent the Blight or circumventing some other problem. However, that is only the best possible outcome.”
“And the worst?” Arethin asked.
“The Fade is connected to the mind of every creature that uses magic. If the Fade is cut off entirely, there is little telling the amount of damage it would do. It could destroy the world entirely. Either way, I would not suggest it.”
Arethin nodded. “Exactly. So we must remove it.”
Everyone around the table stared at her, even Felassan, who looked from her to Solas and back again.
“Do you know what you are doing?' Felassan asked.
“No,” Arethin said. “But I know that the world will suffer if it is still in place.”
“We cannot know that for certain,” Bann Teagan exclaimed. He glanced at Solas. “Excuse me, but the Dalish parties have made clear that the words of...well, Ser Solas, they make it known that you cannot be trusted entirely.”
Yara snorted.
“No, but we do know that the Veil is artificial,” Arethin said. “We have studied it at length--”
“The Arcanist came to this conclusion as well,” Vhelan said.
“If it is indeed artificial, it stands to reason we could repair it,” Vivienne pointed out.
“No,” Solas said. “You could not.”
“Why?”
“I am the one who created it, and am the only one who would theoretically be able to repair it. I do not wish to do this, nor do I advise it.”
“And when I close rifts, it feels—very wrong,” Arethin said. “Opening rifts is very easy, but closing them is difficult. Like I'm bending something to fit a shape it really should not.”
“Building things is far more difficult than destroying them,” Vivienne pointed out. “To heal is more difficult than to inflict harm.”
"And there is, of course, the reason it was created in the first place,” Bann Teagan said. “Who is to say that the threat it was built to stop simply wouldn't spring up again?”
“That is entirely likely,” Solas said. “But regardless, as it is, the Veil is causing more problems than it solves.”
“How so?” Vivienne asked, an eyebrows raised in a skeptical manner. “It is the one thing that stands between us and demons. In places where the Veil is thin, there are more attacks, more magic gone wrong.”
“That is precisely because of Veil damage,” Solas argued. “Consider the difference between a river that is dammed effectively, and a river with a damaged and rotting dam. Regardless of the reason the river was dammed in the first place, the dam still causes problems.”
“Truthfully, even if we needed the Veil, I don't think this one can stand up much longer,” Arethin said. “With the Breach and the rifts—we can either do something about it now, or let it go until it breaks, which I do not much fancy doing.”
Most everyone looked displeased, but it was a valid point. If one had a broken chair, one got a new chair or fixed it, not simply let it go on that way.
“So, how would we even go about doing it?” Arethin asked Solas.
“It would be difficult—constructing it was an extremely long and lengthy process. Before anything else, we would need to reach the Golden City.”
Cassandra, Leliana and Barris gasped and looked at each other.
“It is not the seat of the Maker,” Solas said, his tone dry. “It is an Elvhen city, a mirror of Arlathan. It is the center of the Veil, where the spell was begun.”
“What?” Leliana breathed.
Solas shrugged. “Wherever your Maker resides, it is not in the Black City.”
“But--” Leliana looked from Felassan to Solas, neither of them having any words of comfort.
Cassandra's face fell, and Arethin felt the need to interject.
“The Fade already isn't as you thought it was,” she said. “Does this truly make things so different?”
“It seems as if we have...repurposed many things originally made by you and your people,” Josephine said to Solas, her tone painfully polite.
“That was bound to happen when the Tevinters came and stole everything that wasn't nailed down,” Felassan pointed out.
“Our people's empire left a...vivid mark on the world,” Solas said. “It is only reasonable that our culture affected others, even human ones.”
“So I suppose this means that the Dalish have a better handle on the Fade than non-Dalish?” Arethin couldn't help pointing out, raising her eyebrows.
Solas and Felassan exchanged a look, Felassan's expression longsuffering, Solas' carefully neutral.
“I suppose,” Felassan grumbled.
“If the culture of our people affected yours, it is not outside the realms of possibility that some cultures might have absorbed more than others,” Solas admitted.
“Excellent,” Arethin smiled. “But we do have one more problem—if we were to do this, how exactly would we even get to the Black City?'
“I am uncertain. However, Corypheus seeks to reach it, so we could simply follow what he is attempting to do.”
“This is all speculation,” Leliana said. “Where the Veil is concerned, we have very little evidence to rely upon.”
“Except for the evidence give to you by the one who created it,” Solas said quietly.
“Ah—yes. Except that.”
“So, in the interests of concrete fact, we must focus on what we know, and what we know is that Corypheus also has a vested interest in damaging it, and according to you, Solas, that is more of a problem than the Veil collapsing on its own.” Arethin said. “And the Venatori are very interested in the Wilds.”
“And where the Venatori are, the Qunari will probably be as well,” Barris pointed out.
“We must focus on them, for now,” Arethin decided. “And try to find where they are and what they are doing.”
Later, after the meeting was over, Solas and Bull were alone together. “I'm not really sure how I feel about that whole 'taking down the Veil' thing,” Bull admitted to Solas.
“People have come to see the Veil as a good thing and the Fade as bad,” Solas said. “This is not accurate. The Veil was never meant to be permanent.”
"And taking it down wouldn't let demons kill everyone?”
“Not removing it will do more damage in the long run. As it is, the Veil already damaged the world.”
“Hm,” Bull rumbled, not convinced. “Then what was it like before the Veil?”
“More real,” Solas explained. “The world now is—fog and spun glass. Like a dream.”
“It doesn't feel much like that.”
“You have always been here. You would be unable to tell. If all you had seen your entire life was shadows, how would you know they were only shadows?”
“Maybe,” Bull said. “Still not sure how I feel about it.”
“It remaining will only do more damage,” Solas said. “And in any case—the Veil is magic, an artificial spell imposed on the world. No matter what is done, magic will affect everything.”
Bull sighed. “Great,” he said. He paused, thinking about something that had been weighing heavily on him, but hadn't wanted to bring up before now. “What did you see?” Bull asked. “When the nightmare got you?”
Solas considered. “A snowy wasteland,” he said. “There was nothing there. I was alone.”
“And you couldn't hear or see the rest of us.”
“No. I could hear nothing but the wind. I knew it was a nightmare, but the demon was trying very hard to confuse what I saw.”
“You couldn't break out of it.”
“No.” Solas didn't say anything else, and looked away.
Bull let out a breath. “I was in—a maze. The walls were so high I couldn't see anything past them. I knew—I knew something was wrong, but I didn't—nothing made sense. I'd turn one way and then not know where I was.”
“Interesting...” Solas murmured.
“I could see everyone, though, that was the weird part,” he continued. “I knew where everyone was, but—the walls were still in the way. Lavellan asked me to help, and I understood, but I also knew—I didn't know what she said.”
“Your fear was madness,” Solas said. “So the demon altered your perceptions to where nothing made sense.”
They both were quiet for several moments.
“Pawn to E4,” Solas said.
“Can't we get a real board?” Bull asked. “Seriously. It's like you have an aversion to real ones.”
“This is more distracting,” Solas pointed out. “Unless you are worried I will win again...?”
Bull chuckled. “Nah. 'Course not.”
It was some days later when Arethin came to Cole and Solas arguing in Solas' office.
She was surprised, as normally neither of them so much as raised their voices. She had a difficult time following the argument, until Cole spotted her and dragged her into the conflict.
“So—you want someone to make sure you can't be controlled by another mage?” Arethin asked, after Cole explained his predicament.
Cole nodded.
“Well—I'm sure we can manage that,” Arethin said, looking at Solas. “Can't we?”
“There are ways to protect spirits from the spells of mages,” Solas said. “Ones that do not involve binding.”
“What would we need to do?”
“There are certain amulets that can help,” Solas said. “The Grand Enchanter or Vivienne might know of where to find one.”
They located an amulet, and it was delivered to them in a week's time. Arethin, upon receiving the amulet, rounded up both Cole and Solas to see what could be done.
Solas examined the amulet, gave a nod of approval. “It only needs to be activated,” he said.
Cole took the amulet, placed it around his neck, and Solas put his hand out to charge it with a spell. The air smelled strongly of lightning for a moment, then the spell snapped, and both Cole and Solas stumbled away from each other, Cole letting out a tiny cry of dismay.
Varric stuck his head in the office, apparently drawn by the noise.
“What are you doing to the kid?” Varric demanded.
“Cole is worried that he might be able to be controlled by a mage,” Arethin explained. “This amulet should help...” she furrowed her brow and glanced at Solas.
Solas shook his head. “Something is interfering,” he said.
“It doesn't work because he's too human for it to work,” Varric insisted.
Solas shook his head. “No—that is not how spirits take bodies,” he said. “You cannot materialize a body from thin air.”
“Well he hasn't possessed anyone--”
“That is not what I speak of.”
“Then what, exactly?”
Solas sighed. “If a spirit cannot possess a body, then one must be created for them,” he explained. He paused. “It is possible, with the amount of Veil damage and magical instability present in the Spire, that Cole might have created a body by accident...but that would be...less than likely.”
“What do you mean, a body has to be created?” Varric asked, his eyes narrowed.
“Born,” Cole says. “Someone takes the spirit, and the body is born. It doesn't happen anymore though,” he said sadly.
Solas nodded. “That is correct. That's why I find it highly unlikely that you are too human for a protection spell to work—how would you have created a body?”
Cole shrugged. “Bodies are made up of small pieces,” he said. “But I don't know how you'd fit them together. Like a puzzle too big to finish.”
“Wait a moment,” Arethin said. “How are spirits born?”
“How is that important?” Varric asked.
“Because I wish to know.”
“In Elvhenan, there were certain people whose spirits originally formed in the Fade,” Solas said. “A spirit of Curiosity or Wisdom or Pride might wish a body, for one reason or another, but instead of possessing a body, they would ask someone if they could be born through them.”
“So instead of possessing an adult, you possess a body that has not been born yet?”
Solas inclined his head.
Varric made a revolted grimace. “That's even worse!” he said.
“Not particularly,” Solas said. “The unborn child would have no spirit already inside of it. It is the same process any child is born, only with slightly more intent. In any case, that clearly did not happen to Cole.”
“No, it didn't,” Cole said.
“I would argue that the Veil damage in the Spire made it possible,” Arethin said. “A tear a bit too wide allowed more than a spirit alone to enter the physical world, just as it did around the Breach.”
“Perhaps, but that does not fix the problem,” Solas said.
“Doesn't it?” Varric said. “If he's too human for the amulet to work, that means he's too human to get bound by a mage.”
“You cannot be certain of that,” Solas said. “And it's possible that it is unhealthy to remain in such an in-between stage, neither physical nor spirit.”
Cole shook his head. “It's...tangled,” he said. “Something's...stopping me.”
“Can you find the point of the intrusion?”
Cole ducked his head. “Somewhere...there,” he pointed to a spot just over Arethin's shoulder.
“Could you find it on a map?”
Cole nodded.
The area that Cole had indicated was somewhere in the Hinterlands, a little ways outside of Redcliffe village.
The four of them traveled there, using a local Dalish eluvian that had been moved there once it was established how strategically valuable the area was. Only Cole, Arethin, Solas and Varric went, because Cole wanted to solve the problem as soon as possible.
“What exactly are we looking for?” Arethin asked when they left the eluvian.
“I don't know,” Cole admitted. “I can—feel it. I don't know what it is. This way.” he lead them down the path.
“Are you sure you know what you're looking for?” Arethin asked.
“I'll know what it is when I see it,” he explained.
They came across two men, talking quietly with each other before a large statue.
Cole balled his hands into fists, back stiffening.
One of the men left, and Cole bared his teeth. “You,” he snarled, and before anyone could blink, he had his blade at the man's throat. “You killed me.”
“I don't—I don't even know you!” the man protested.
“You forgot!” Cole snapped. “You locked me in the dungeon in the Spire, and you forgot, and I died in the dark!”
“The Spire--?”
“Cole, stop,” Solas reached Cole and put a hand on his arm. Cole startled, and let the man go. The man ran, but before Cole could give chase, Varric moved in front of him.
“Just take it easy, kid,” Varric said.
“He killed me!” Cole was more vehement than Arethin could remember him being, his blue eyes wide and bright. “That's why it doesn't work—he killed me, and I have to kill him back!”
“Wait,” Arethin said. “That does not make sense.”
“Cole, that man cannot have killed you,” Solas said, his brow furrowed. “You are a spirit—you have not possessed a body.”
“A broken body,” Cole murmured, shoulders slumping. “Bloody, banged on the stone cell, guts gripping in the dark. A captured apostate. They threw him into the dungeon at the Spire. They forgot about him, and he starved to death.” Cole took a deep, shuddering breath. “I came through to help—but I—couldn't. So I became him. Cole.”
“This does not explain why that man's interfering with the spell,” Arethin said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “Does it?”
“It is possible that the memories of the original Cole are interfering with the Cole we know,” Solas said.
“How?”
“At this point, I am...less than certain,” Solas admitted.
“Then what do we do?”
“I need to kill him,” Cole insisted.
“No,” Solas said. “You should not.”
“How about we try to end the day with as few people getting killed as possible, okay, kid?” Varric said. “Just for a change of pace.”
“It is possible that crossing through the Veil in the way you did—damaged you in some way,” Solas told Cole. “Killing this man would further twist you away from your purpose, and change you further.”
“He already changed,” Varric insisted. “He's more human!”
“Imitating an already existing human is not the same as being human,” Solas said. “A spirit in the Fade might take on the memories of an existing mirror in the physical world but this...is different.”
Arethin folded her arms. "Alright," she said. "Cole, what do you think we should do, apart from kill him?"
Cole shook his head. “I don't know,” he said. “He killed Cole. I remember it. He could hurt other people, too.”
“True enough,” Solas said quietly. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you wish to return to being in the state of more of a spirit, forgiving him and forgetting the harm he inflicted would be a good step,” he said.
“You can't just forget something like that!” Varric protested.
“You or I could not. A spirit could. That is part of the purpose of a physical body—to maintain memories.”
“And spirits don't hurt because they forget,” Cole nodded.
“Look—as far as I can tell, kid, you're human, through and through,” Varric said. “Work through your anger, you can't just—forget it.”
“Cole, this is something you have to decide for yourself,” Arethin said. “I'd say—let the man have it. He killed a child. But...” she sighed and looked away. “I can also tell you that revenge won't solve your problem.”
Cole looked at her, blue eyes wide. He considered.
“I—I want him to remember,” he said. “But I'm supposed to take the hurt away. But what if he hurts more people because he can't remember what hurting was like?” Cole shook his head. “I don't—I don't know what I want,” he admitted.
Everyone stood and looked at each other.
“Look, you need to get through it,” Varric said at length, rubbing the back of his neck. 'I'm not really an expert or anything, but you seem way more like a person than a spirit.”
“Spirits are people,” Solas said, his voice terse.
“Fine, way more like a human, then.”
“Or he is a spirit that mistakenly crossed the Veil, and attempting to become more human without the true ability to will only make things worse.”
“It would be confusing,” Cole agreed.
“That is one problem, yes,” Solas said.
They all looked at Cole again, who seemed startled by their scrutiny.
“I like being like I am,” he said. “I don't know what that is, exactly—in between.”
“One cannot remain in between forever,” Solas pointed out.
Cole nodded. “I know.” he looked towards where the Templar had fled to. “I think—we should find him,” he said, blue eyes narrowed.
“Sure,” Varric said. “But not to kill him. We do that enough already.”
Cole blinked at Varric, looking confused, but Varric just sighed.
“Come on,” Varric said. “Let's find that Templar.”
The Templar had retreated to the forest, to a tiny shack that was presumably where he lived.
Arethin banged on the door.
“I didn't do it!” the Templar shouted. “I—it was a mistake!”
Arethin rolled her eyes and kicked the door in. “Cole?” she said, offering for him to go first.
The Templar's shack was squalid and dark, and the Templar himself cowered against the far wall.
“I—I'm sorry,” the Templar said, looking up at them. “I didn't—I didn't know.”
Arethin's lip curled, and Solas put a hand on her shoulder.
“You knew,” Cole hissed, eyes narrowed. “You forgot, and no one else knew, and when they found him—when they found me—they made it go away.”
“I didn't—I didn't mean to,” the Templar pleaded. “I—I'm sorry--”
“Look at him,” Varric gestured to the shack around them. “He's half-dead already. You can't really do much past this, kid.”
“You forgot because—it wasn't important,” Cole scowled. “He wasn't important enough to remember.” Cole frowned, his stormy expression not fading. “If I can make people forget, I can make them remember. And he will remember.”
The Templar sunk to his knees. “Sorry—sorry—sorry--” he murmured over and over again, eyes overflowing with tears.
“There are lots of ways to help people,” Cole said, looking down at the Templar. “If he forgot, he would have hurt people. Now he remembers. Now he won't.”
“I suppose that's one way to do it,” Varric said, looking shaken.
“I think—I think it's better now,” Cole said. “I feel—it isn't bruising or tearing anymore. I don't know how I feel. It's better.”
They left the shack.
“I will be alright, Solas," Cole said as they returned to the eluvian, answering a question Solas never asked, but Solas didn't seem to mind.
Solas' brow knitted in concern. “If you are certain...”
“I am. I changed, but not how you or Varric wanted.”
“Hey--” Varric started, but Cole shook his head.
“It's alright,” he promised. “Things change. I can be human. I don't know if I am. Maybe I'll try it.”
“It might hurt you to remain in-between,” Solas reminded him.
“I'm not in between. I'm like you—in both places,” Cole gave Solas a tiny smile. “It's different. I can be both. I just have to remember how.”
Solas blinked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “I have never seen that before,” he said.
“I know. Lots of things are different now.”