Chapter Text
Solas stood amidst the aftermath, his injuries visible but his posture unyielding. “It is done,” he said quietly, his eyes on Rook. “The world owes you a debt. Both for defeating Elgar’nan… and for bringing down the Veil.”
The green tears in the Veil appeared, threatening collapse. Solas approached the dagger, his expression heavy with sorrow. “I am sorry for this final betrayal,” he said, reaching for it.
Rook stopped him, gripping the dagger tightly. “You don’t have to do this,” she said. “Bind yourself to the Veil. Stop it from falling. Make amends by protecting the world, not breaking it again.”
Solas’s gaze faltered. “This world is broken. Because of my mistakes.”
“You’re right. You do need to make up for the damage you’ve done. But breaking the world again is the wrong way to do it.”
Solas hesitated. “Letting the Veil collapse—”
“Is what you want. Making amends isn’t about what you want.”
Lucanis was too far away to hear whatever Solas said in reply. He moved toward Emmrich’s side to help him up, and the two slowly walked forward, stopping only as the Inquisitor passed them by.
Solas held the dagger in his hands, the blue lyrium blade glowing faintly against his fingers. His eyes lingered on Rook with a tinge of sadness, betraying his intent. Lucanis could see it—Solas would not yield. He would tear down the Veil.
The elf approached the largest Veil tear at the top of the steps, the rift pulsing with unstable energy. “I cannot,” Solas said, holding the dagger aloft. His voice trembled with resolve. “To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far.”
“Even if those you’ve wronged asked you to stop?”
The air grew still as Solas froze, lowering his hand. His gaze turned behind him, meeting the figure walking up the steps. The Inquisitor stood beside Rook, her steps steady and her presence undeniable. Trevelyan’s violet eyes glimmered with resolve, filled with both desperation and hope.
“Inquisitor.” Solas’s head lowered, his strength faltering.
“You were my friend,” the Inquisitor said, her voice heavy with emotion. “We saved the world together once.” She took another step forward, meeting his eyes directly. “Can’t we save it one more time?”
Solas straightened his back, his composure hardening once more. “Inquisitor, I am sorry. But I cannot,” he said with finality. “Long before we met, I failed my oldest friend. She died for that failure.” His voice broke slightly as he continued, his gaze shifting to the tear behind him. “If I leave the Veil in place, I am destroying the world she wanted. And I will have... she will have died for nothing.”
He raised the dagger again, steeling himself for what must be done.
A crow’s call broke through the air, echoing across the battlefield. Solas’s focus wavered. From the shadows, Morrigan emerged, her presence commanding and her words cutting.
“And whose fault is that, Dread Wolf?”
“Morrigan?” Solas turned to her, his composure unraveling as recognition set in.
The raven-haired witch strode forward with the confidence of someone who had been watching all along. “One appellation among many I wear,” she said. “I have been an advisor to Orlais, the Witch of the Wilds…”
Rook and the Inquisitor moved to join Morrigan’s side as she stepped closer to Solas. Her tone softened, but her words carried weight. “Daughter of Flemeth…” She exhaled sharply, her piercing gaze locking onto Solas. “And once, long ago, an old friend.”
Solas’s breath hitched. His eyes welled with tears as he averted his gaze, unable to meet hers.
Morrigan’s expression remained steady, unwavering.
“Mythal lives on in her… and in this.” Rook reached into her pack and retrieved the Mythal statuette. As she extended it toward Morrigan, the artifact began to glow with an ethereal blue light. The witch took it reverently, pressing it to her forehead. The glow intensified until an apparition of Mythal appeared before them, luminous and serene.
Solas stepped back, his expression one of awe and fear. “Mythal,” he whispered, trembling.
The spirit’s voice was calm but resolute. “I pulled you from the Fade and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon, and it broke you. But the wrongs we committed, we committed together. I release you from my service.”
Solas sank to his knees, tears streaming down his face as the weight of her words washed over him. “The things that I have done…” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
The Inquisitor knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You are free to find a better way,” she said gently.
Solas steadied himself, rising to his feet with newfound resolve. He turned to the dagger, his hands trembling as he coated its edge with his blood. “My lifeforce will sustain the Veil,” he declared, his voice growing firm. “With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.”
He approached the largest Veil tear, pausing briefly to look back at the group. His gaze lingered on each of them before settling on Rook. “Thanks to you, I can see the way.”
Without another word, Solas stepped into the light of the Veil. As he disappeared, the tears began to close, their chaotic energy dissipating.
The world was whole once more.
The battle was over, but its echoes lingered in the air. Allies stood gathered on the broken palace steps, battered but victorious. Cheers erupted as Rook descended with Emmrich and the others, Morrigan and the Inquisitor close behind. For a moment, relief washed over them—a brief reprieve after so many trials.
The sky above, once marred by the eclipse caused by Elgar’nan, was now clear, sunlight beginning to pierce through the horizon. Lucanis stood apart from the others, his gaze fixed on the dawn. His thoughts weren’t here anymore; they were back at the lighthouse, where she was waiting.
“You did it,” Rook said softly, stepping beside him. “We did it.”
Lucanis managed a faint smile.
Rook tilted her head. “You’re thinking of her, aren’t you?”
“She said she’d wait,” he admitted, his voice low. “I need to see her. To tell her…” He trailed off, his usual calm breaking under the weight of emotion.
“Then don’t keep her waiting,” Rook replied with a knowing smile.
The group began their journey back to the lighthouse, a bittersweet silence falling over them. They moved slowly, every step bringing them closer to their haven. When they arrived, the sight of the lighthouse brought a collective sigh of relief. It stood tall and steadfast, a beacon of hope inside the once scarred Fade.
Inside, the air was thick with familiarity—a warmth that promised safety. The Eluvian to Maria’s world shimmered in the corner of the library, surrounded by intricate carvings and glowing softly in the dim light.
Lucanis hesitated before it, his hand hovering over the glassy portal. His heart pounded in his chest.
“She’s waiting,” Rook said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped through. The world shifted around him, the air growing warm and fragrant. He emerged in Maria’s basement, the room filled with white flowers that glowed faintly in the sunlight streaming through the small windows. Their fragrance was soothing, a reminder of her.
Lucanis paused for a moment, his fingers brushing against the petals of a nearby bloom. Then, with purpose, he moved toward the stairs.
As he climbed, faint sounds drifted down to him—the rustle of leaves, the soft hum of the morning. At the top of the stairs, the door opened into the garden. It was alive with greenery, the flowers swaying gently under a canopy of sky.
Maria knelt near the center, her hands clasped in silent prayer. Her head was bowed, and her lips moved faintly, though he couldn’t make out her words.
He stepped forward, his boots crunching softly against the gravel path. She looked up, startled at first, but her expression quickly melted into one of pure relief.
“Lucanis,” she breathed, rising to her feet.
He crossed the distance in a few strides, pulling her into his arms. She held him tightly, her fingers clutching the fabric of his coat as if afraid he might disappear.
“I was praying for your safe return,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I thought I might never see you again.”
“I told you I’d come back,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands framing her face. “I can finally have you to myself.”
Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as she smiled. “You kept your promise.”
“I’ll always keep my promises to you,” he said firmly.
The garden seemed to hold its breath around them, the world quiet in the wake of their reunion. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Lucanis allowed himself to truly exhale.
In that moment, nothing else mattered.