#uvher

Cornelia stared unseeing at the water full in front of her. She was back at the Lighthouse but her mind told her that it was all false. Any second now, the rug would be pulled from under her and she would be back in Solas's cruel prison.

And then it came. She felt a prickle on the back of her neck, she was no longer alone. Cornelia's breath caught in her throat in a strangled hitch when she turned to look.

Lucanis.

"No." Cornelia's arms wrapped around her middle, protection for what remained of her shattered heart and mind. "No, please, not this."

He stood there and for the moment was silent, like a ghost. In a second he'd say something and it would rip into her. She had led him to his death. He'd died alongside Harding on Tearstone, she was certain. The last thing she remembered before being pulled into the Fade was running to him as he lay motionless on the ground. Then he'd been a voice in her ear, their final catastrophic argument looping again and again.

"I thought I'd never see you again."

A sob burst out unbidden. What right did she have to that? Why would he be relieved - happy, even - to see her? Cornelia hugged herself tighter as if she could stuff her tears, and her grief, and her regrets back inside herself with enough willpower.

"I'm sorry!" She had failed. The words ripped from her throat and once the dam had broken there was no stopping it. "You were right. I should have told you from the beginning who I was. I was scared. I was scared of you. I was scared of Spite. I thought--I thought that if I kept you away then maybe things would be better but I couldn't even do that! Maker, I'm the biggest idiot in Thedas. I let you in when I knew it would hurt us both. And--and then I was scared if you knew then you'd never look at me again. You deserved the truth. You deserved it the most. I hurt you. I hurt you and I was too stupid to just say I was sorry because I was scared I'd lose you forever. I should have trusted you to understand."

She was probably making no sense. Did it matter when it wasn't really him she was talking to? He was just a regret that Solas had conjured, the one that weighed on her mind the most. If he wasn't real then she perhaps should just be totally honest.

That a human stood before her was intriguing. Nuven'in had not seen such a being in millennia, not since before she'd become more. A wry smile pulled her lips as she took in his stance. "My, my. Do you greet all the women you meet with staff in hand?"

The Caretaker had asked for them to track down the sources of the Blight in the Crossroads, sent by the gods to seek out the Lighthouse and Solas's network they were now utilizing. Ogden was aware traveling in such a place had its unique dangers, his Harrowing coming to mind.

So finding the small eluvian was peculiar, to say the least. And where it went was something else entirely.

And he hadn't expected a elven woman to be on the other side. Yet he was aware to keep his wits about him.

Finding a momentary peaceful break during all the battle with the rebellion, and after helping to heal other agents, Ethyral took this opportunity to enjoy a glass of wine offered her way. She was mindful to not drink too much, knowing she would have to keep a level head in case any other agents came through the door needing help.

Glancing at the other healer still in the room with her, the company and drink helped to keep her mind off her concerns and stay focused on the task at hand. Rebellions were built on Hope, and Hope was exactly what she embodied. There was no time for fear or despair. Mythal had made her own choice, and so had she. Fen'Harel needed her and she wouldn't turn him down.

Taking a sip of her wine, it was Nuven'in's sudden comment that made her cough up her drink. "W-What brought this up?" Ethyral's cheeks went red. "I'm not...who are we talking about with this?" There was a butterfly trapped in her chest. "I think this wine is stronger than I thought it would be..."

"I'm willing to bet the humans would be seething if they knew what you're doing", the ex-inquisitor mentioned with a smirk when she saw Vax arrive.

Samahla had followed the tracks of the Veilguard for a while, to offer her aid. Of course, fighting the Blight in the south was of extreme importance, but she felt that her knowledge about elvhen gods - and about Solas - would be more useful right now, and instead she placed good people down south in the fight to come over and see what she could do. And thus, she'd sent word to the Veilguard, requesting to meet.

All the while chuckling about the information she'd found. An elf, saving the world, again. "Takes a knife-ear to get things done, eh? You're Rook, I take it." And they couldn't be missed, from the description. Short soft curls. Very defined tattoos. Eyes that looked like they couldn't miss anything.

Samahla could see why Varric liked this one. "Samahla Lavellan, hoping to be of service."

Despite being a mage and having seen what she thought were wonders beyond her wildest imaginings, the Lighthouse — and the Crossroads to get to it — was beyond even those. She wandered behind Vax, golden eyes wide with wonder as she almost strained her neck craning to try and take as much in as she could.

No one back home would ever believe her if she told them this. Even the skalds would claim that what she was saying was too unrealistic, even for them.

"How did you find this place?" She asked.

The strange mirror that sat near the Veil Jumper camp had been an enigma to her. A mirror in the middle of a forest? Odd. Then again, it was a forest filled with the ruins of a civilsation long fallen. Morren never knew or dreamed that it was possible to step through them and into the place she only visited in dreams.

Supernatural Starters

"I did say it was an old Dalish saying...while some legends have truth to them to some degree, you're not expected to believe it in its entirety." Myrna was...a bit superstitious, however, so she believed the underlying warning of it, but that didn't mean she believed it at face value.

'The dead rise where Falon'Din has never been,' she'd told him.

Which, Fen'Harel had trapped him and the other gods, so it was difficult to do a job from a prison. In his defense, he couldn't exactly tend to the dead.

"Bite me!"

It was almost uncanny how similar Rook the rook could mimic Felassan's voice, bouncing to the safety of the other side of the couch with a bird-like cackle call of laughter. He gave a play bow at the opposite end, splaying his wings out, head bobbing as beady bird eyes watched him.

The amount of Blight and Darkspawn in the area made Elysia's skin crawl. Ever since she'd arrived, it felt like she was being... watched, almost. As if the blight knew she was here. Knew it was almost her time.

But it wasn't. Not yet.

Even so, it felt good to get out and kill some of the darkspawn. There were still more, always more, but it lessened the feeling, somewhat, when they were further away.

She hit the final one with a shock of lightning, satisfaction flowing through her as it dropped. Letting out a breath, she glanced at Rook. She'd tried to keep most of the darkspawn on her, when she could. Better than Rook ending up blighted as well.