#elvhenan

Tagged by @foxeareddevilish - thank you! 💜

I’m adding another chapter to what I’d thought had been my final draft of Shadow and Light after realizing the story I was looking to tell in the chapter wouldn’t work well in the fic I’m writing based on my OC, Oran, who is the boyfriend of Solas and Iris’ daughter, Mira.

Papae’s face is bruised from the blow, his eye nearly swollen shut but he staggers back, summoning lightning in his hand, the bolts crackling over his fingers and down his wrist before he sends it into the man’s body, aimed squarely at his heart, his expression morose as he watches the man drop to the wood, his eyes vacant and his chest smoking. Almost instantly, the spirit mimicking the scene disappears - to spare Papae the pain of lingering on a memory that hurts him, she realizes.

“The first life I took,” Papae says, staring at the spot on the floor where the body was moments ago.

“It wasn’t on a battlefield? Not during the Great War?”

“The war waged on but my flesh was new. Mythal did not wish to see me wasted on a battlefield as cannon fodder and indicated it would be easier if I knew how to remove life from skin and sinew.”

Mythal had been in the memory but she’s gone too, and so is Papae’s younger self. Why was Mythal here if she said nothing? She asks Papae, who gives her a wan look.

“In fact, she had much to say, explaining that the man had been caught communicating with the titans and had been convicted of treason. He had been granted flesh by June, who had long been interested in the use of lyrium to power his devices. Centuries later I wondered privately if perhaps he had been on a mission ordered by his master, who allowed his slave to take the fall when it became clear that the other generals disapproved of the parlay. In this moment, I simply felt emptiness. I had trusted Mythal, but she had not told me it was to be an execution.”

In Thedas, Elvhen is considered a mostly dead language. Like Latin is in our world.

But most scholars know it, even if it’s not commonly used. Just like Latin, a lot of words come from an Elvhen base.

Hell, I’d even argue that you don’t have to be a scholar to recognize most Latin. Because the language we use today come from it, so unless you’re an idiot, you would recognize basic words in Latin, it would be apart of your muscle memory.

Thank you, @loredrinker. I haven't written any fics in a while, so I don't have a WIP at the moment. However, I'm working on my Arlathan au, and I think a lot about Elvenan lore, so I write down some one shots sometimes as well.

————————————————————————

“You know full well what you are about to do, Solas,” Mythal said softly. Her face remained unreadable, yet on some other plane of feeling Solas could sense the faintest echo of her displeasure. “Your work in the shadows has not gone unnoticed. For now, it is only I who sees. How long do you think before the others will know as well?”

Solas regarded her, his own expression giving nothing away. “I do this to protect our people, not out of whim. Just days ago, more slaves vanished without a trace. Among them were those raising yet another monument to Elgar’nan. Living souls with families. The trail goes cold, but I am more than certain that Ghilan’nain is involved. And Elgar’nan not only knows what is happening, he encourages it. You, of all people, Mythal, should understand. They are crossing every boundary, and their hunger will only grow. This is not something to turn a blind eye to. How much longer can it continue?”

“I understand your pain and your grief, and I share them,” Mythal said with a shake of her head. “But to raise a rebellion now, at the very high noon of the Empire’s glory…”

“On whose blood and bones was that glory built?” Solas’s voice rose slightly, but he caught himself at once and exhaled. “Forgive me. I can no longer pretend that nothing is wrong.”

Mythal’s hand came to rest on his cheek, her thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone. Solas breathed out again, leaning into the touch almost without thinking. His eyes fluttered shut. The mask of caution he had so carefully constructed cracked at that simple gesture.

“I am afraid, my lady,” he confessed. “What I am planning promises more blood, more death. But there is no other way. Someone must do it. Let it be me. A heavy burden already rests on my shoulders.”

Mythal was silent for a moment, considering. Then her features softened slightly. “You should have told me of your plans from the start. Very well. I will help you as I can. Still, do not expect too much.”

“Won’t you come with me then?” Solas’s eyes snapped open, searching her eyes.

“Elgar’nan must be kept in check. As his wife, I have far more chance of doing that at his side than from a distance. Besides, among your… rebels, my usefulness would be limited. Think for yourself. My position at court will serve your cause far better than open confrontation with Elgar’nan. It would only bring unnecessary complications right now.”

“Your presence among the people could give them hope. At least consider the possibility. But for now, there is wisdom in your words. We are not yet ready to stand openly against Elgar’nan. Very well. We will do it your way.”

And yet, an invisible thread of tension stretched between them. Noticing it, Mythal gave a quiet, knowing smile. Her hand slid to the back of Solas’s neck, and she drew him gently toward her – a soft, guiding pressure. She had always done this when she wanted to pull him away from heavy thoughts. And it always ended the same way: he yielded.

Their foreheads touched. For as long as Solas could remember – both when he was formless and when he walked in a body – they had always been together, inseparable. And yet now their ideas and their purposes grew further apart with each passing day. Sooner or later, they would each have to go their own way. The thought made something inside him clench painfully, though he could not find a name for the feeling. Sometimes it was so hard not to drown in the storm of emotions that had become accessible to spirits once they took on flesh.

You can find it here!

Yeah, that’s all gone in Veilguard.

Hell, something as simple as just adding some special music when you enter into an area of ruins would massively help.

Like, even the Witcher 3 does better to immerse you with the environment.

Actually, I really love the ambient music for that game because it just feels so… Tir Na Lia for some reason reminds me of Suramar from WoW.

And I loved exploring the ancient ruins in the Emerald Graves.

For some damn reason, Veilguard gives us the opportunity to explore Arlathan Fucking Forest, yet it doesn’t feel special at all??????

It’s just a stupid forest.

I wrote two pieces for the 2026 @dragonageannual! The first was for an Elgar'nan bonus page, paired with an absolutely jaw dropping, magnificent, and overall IN-CRED-I-BLE mural by @diesvitae! Who was a gem to collaborate with. ♥️ Our pieces represent and spin the sins Glories of the All-Father. In the writing, Desmal is running PRopaganda (codex style!) on the panels of diesvitae's artwork.

The scenes of this mural—a handful of the All-Father's innumerable glories—strive in vain to capture his effulgence. The painter has managed to imbue the work with a sense of great, lingering power. Indeed, the jeweled eyes of the central figure seem not only to judge observers, but to follow them…

To know the history of Elgar'nan is to understand your legacy as his beloved people. To worship him is right, because:

(Read in full on ao3.)

Welcome weary travellers, Sentinels of all Temples and Spirits of the Fade. To the Ancients of Arlathan page, entrance to the servers of the same name on both Discord. Discord is as follows: https://discord.gg/4EVVdb3usP