ethosa

Cassandra slammed a thick book on the table. "Do you know what this is? A writ from the Divine, giving us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn." Eloen stared at the book and knew it was not only heavy in a physical sense, but also heavy on the mind. Since waking up in that dark dungeon in Haven, swords pointed at her from all directions, she knew this was just the beginning of something much larger than herself.

At night, Eloen secluded herself in the little hut that was allowed to her. She was an agent of the inquisition now--an army of Andrastians who believed her to be the blessed Herald of Andraste. Suddenly she was someone strangers depended on, and it coiled up inside her and made her ache. She clutched at her chest and took slow, deep breaths as she gazed at the fire. She sat on the floor with crossed legs and took her boots off. She relaxed and stuck her feet near the flame.

There was a soft rasping at the door. She turned and said, "Come in." Solas entered the hut and closed the door behind him. "Solas? Why did you come?"

"I was seeking your opinion."

"On what?"

He hesitated for a moment, seemingly unsure whether to sit down next to her or not. She tried not to smile. "Pull up that chair by the desk. I'm quite comfortable here. Now, what did you want to talk about?"

"The others believe you blessed, touched by Holy Andraste herself. What do you believe?"

Eloen frowned. "I don't like it. But if it's what gives them strength, I won't outright deny it."

"What will you do if not deny nor accept? Is walking around in circles without any proper answer all you wish to do?"

"No, Solas. I want to... I don't believe in the Maker. But Andraste? Who is to say there was no woman who drove back the Tevinter Imperium, if it is not spread out over Thedas today? Something must have happened. I don't know what it is. This mark on my hand? It burns. It gives me authority but otherwise I think little to nothing of it."

"What are your plans, then?"

"To do whatever is required of me. I don't have any immediate goals, I admit. But longterm? As bright and clear as the breach above our heads: I will work towards restoring the order lost."

"Admirable." He paused and seemed to be in deep thought. "I will stay, then."

"You were thinking of leaving?"

"We are both apostates but unlike you I have no mark on my hand." He spoke bitterly. Eloen nibbled her bottom lip.

"Are you angry?"

Solas shook his head and rubbed his temples briefly. "It's nothing. But it's late and I should leave you to whatever it was you were doing before. Good night."

---

word count: 485

author's note: i don't know where i'm going.

２０１６年０５月０１日UPDATE：Changed Inquisitor name Eirlin->Eloen.

His hair was chin length and straight that curled slightly at the ends. He wore a red sweater with a white argyle pattern across the midsection. He wore a thick black leather jacket that rested just at where his hips jutted out from his body. His jeans were a washed out blue, and looked to be a size too big--or maybe he was just that thin, and at the bottom of each leg was a large black boot. He had an angular face with high cheekbones, the cheeks themselves slightly hollowed. He walked with a limp in his step, which seemed more stylistic than from any injury--like he was swinging from foot to foot.