#solsha

They sat on a bench in The Void. Or rather, they sat on a bench facing it. Here, the Necropolis had no true end; beyond the wide span of a cliff ledge there was nothing. You would find neither floor nor ceiling, and the emptiness stretched to infinity.

Functionally infinite, Rook called it. The Watchers had studied this place for hundreds of years and looked, but found nothing beyond.

The cavernous space was filled with unnatural fog and darkness. From time to time shapes and outlines could be made out, the fog seeming to move, but they vanished in seconds. A trick of the eye, or was what lay beyond so volatile? The Mourn Watch did not have an answer for that, either.

“You know a great deal, have you studied it yourself?”

Rook laughed, unusually self conscious. “Me? No way. That kind of study is left to Watchers a lot more skilled and talented than me.”

“So you simply know all of this for fun.”

“I guess.” Rook either did not catch the implied prod, or decided to ignore it, which was unlikely. “But it is fun, don't you think?”

“Fun is not the word I would choose…” Solas’ eye was drawn back to the nothingness.

According to records, this area of the Necropolis had never moved. Never changed. You could look at notes from any era, any year, and they were interchangeable; what it was thousands of years ago, it remained.

The gaping enormity of it was difficult to comprehend, even for Solas. Endless was understood in definition, but to look upon it and fully grasp that never ending nature was near impossible. The thought remained in the back of his mind that there was an end, somewhere, yet to be found.

As long lived as Solas was, it was rare to be greeted with something that almost made him feel young. Inexperienced.

“What word would you use then?” Rook asked with tangibly earnest interest.

Solas considered carefully before answering. “Peaceful.”

The longer you sat with it, the less first impressions lingered. What should have been terrifying proved comforting.

Here in this space, you the viewer too were momentarily out of time. Here there would be no changes. No surprises. No decisions to be made. You could count on things to be the same, always.

It offered a placid kind of peace. A unique respite you would not find elsewhere.

The Void was open to the public several times a year for limited viewings. And picnics. It was likely a troubling sign that this had not given Solas pause when Rook mentioned it; of course there were picnics at the yawning dark void that had no end and no safety precautions to keep you from falling into it. That was a given.

Solas was rewarded for his answer, pleased to see how happy Rook was made by such a simple response. Happy to share this place that meant so much to him. Happy that Solas did not look down on it or reject it.

He could not understand why his opinion mattered at all, let alone to that degree.

“I would not have thought it would be based solely on description, but it has a beauty to it. A calm.” Solas turned his head to watch Rook fully. “I am starting to see this is a recurring theme for much of the Necropolis.”

Rook's grin was impossibly wide. “Yes. People don't understand, but the Necropolis is a very tranquil place.”

Looking at Rook made Solas' heart ache, for good and bad. But he smiled back as best he could.

“A visitor once called the Necropolis the place where the worst has already happened.” Rook put a slight accent in his voice. “I don’t agree, as death is far from the worst of anything. Death is not the sickness or pain that comes before. But, I understood their sentiment. Whatever happened in life, the dead here rest without burdens."

“It is difficult to separate the cause from the outcome. Especially when neither is welcomed.”

“So I hear,” and there was a hint of a hint of humor to Rook’s voice. “There are… many horrible ways to die. But all suffering ends, in time.”

Solas looked out and wondered if that was true.

He thought of how his people lived, untouched and ageless, through so much; the slavery, the corruption, the ceaseless war. Would it have ended, one day, if Solas had not acted? Would that end come from those horrors, or some outside fate Solas could not imagine?

Was there anything that was truly without an end?

Had the ancient elves indeed continued, would they have found a boundary of time that could not be crossed? Hundreds more, thousands, millions of years– it did not matter when; did that point exist?

Could a body and mind, no matter the origin, endure eternity?

These were questions he now found himself asking when once, they never crossed his mind. And he alone would find out the answer.