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"You have already lost, vhenan," Solas said, his lips close enough to brush the edge of her ear. She didn't have to see his face to know he smiled.
Ellana couldn't move. He held her too tightly, her arm crushed against her chest, her wrist bruising under his fingertips. His other hand splayed across her stomach. The crossbow attachment for her arm lay shattered across the dirt. Ice crystals still clung to the delicate and now useless pieces.
Despite it all, she was too late. The veil shimmered, and for a moment it was an oil slick across the sky. Then, it was gone. Light pulsed, sending a shockwave rippling through the world. Solas held her upright or she would have fallen.
She felt the weight of the world without the protection of the veil. She felt the crush of the Fade against the waking world. She felt her lungs constrict and her stomach lurch as a flood of sensations rushed over her. She felt everything. Every blade of grass under her feet, every fiber in the cloth of her armor, every ripple of magic as it settled over every living, breathing, dying thing.
In the distance, she heard the screams of her army, as one by one they fell. When her heart didn't stop, she guessed the other survivors were the elven scouts and soldiers. As she was still alive, it stood to reason they were as well.
Solas held his breath. He seemed to be waiting for something. She felt his heart beat quicken. She felt his despair, though she didn't know how she could separate it from her own. So many were dead, so many she loved. He had slaughtered them. She heard his breath finally come in, ragged against her ear.
"Is it all you hoped for?" she asked. The bitterness would have shocked her before today. She tried to shrug out of his grasp, but he tightened his grip. The frost from his last spell was gone, but she still felt the chill.
"It isn't finished, yet," he said, his voice rising.
"Where is Arlathan, Solas? Where are the immortal elves? Where is your great kingdom? Your people?" she asked, "Our friends, Solas, our friends are dead, and for what? It was all for nothing. You killed them for nothing."
The silence stretched on. She shut her eyes, the tears hot as the coursed down her cheeks. She wanted to pretend it was all a dream. She wanted to wake to the morning after they sealed the breach. She wanted to wake and find Solas still with her and still sane. She wanted to believe he was nothing more than the apostate she'd fallen in love with, and she wanted to know he would smile and always choose her. Their love was enough.
Their love was a lie.
"I am still here," he said it as though he couldn't believe it, "It should have worked. I accounted for every variable. You traversed an entire year and you did it all by accident. I shouldn't be here. This should have worked."
"But it didn't," she said, and she laughed. She laughed until she couldn't breathe. There was nothing but pain. Cullen, Josie, Leliana, Vivienne, Blackwall, Iron Bull, Varric, and Dorian. Oh Gods, Dorian. She couldn't banish their faces from her thoughts. She kept imagining them, twisting, writhing in pain as the veil fell. She could hear their screams. She had failed them.
"*Emma ir abelas. Souver'inan isala hamin. Vhenan him dor'felas. In uthenera na revas," she said. She stumbled over the words. It was an old prayer her clan had used to honor the dead. When she was young, she thought it silly to say goodbye in a language her people only barely understood. Now though, it was all she could think to say.
"It was not for nothing," Solas said, "You are still here, vhenan, and your people have reclaimed their birthright. You will not grow old and die. Your latent magical abilities will emerge and you will become what you were always meant to be. We can rebuild Arlathan. We have all the time in the world now. I am sorry. I grieve for those we have lost, but I had no choice. This had to be done."
His voice dropped to a whisper, "This had to be done."
"You truly can not speak without lying," she said, "Build your new Arlathan, but do it without me."
He finally relaxed his grip enough for her to twist free. She dared not look at his face. For all he had done, she still loved him, and it disgusted her. She couldn't risk seeing regret in his eyes. Her resolve was still too weak. She couldn't risk losing herself to him. She had to find Sera. She had to find Cole. She needed someone, anyone, but Solas.
He had destroyed the world, and even then, she didn't have the strength to end him.
She gathered the pieces of her shattered crossbow. It was Bianca's invention but Dagna had breathed life into it. She had labored over every detail, pouring her heart into it. When Ellana touched it, she could see the woman's smile. She did not know if the dwarves had survived. She did not know if she could face Sera if they hadn't. If Dagna was dead---she forced the thought to the back of her mind. She couldn't let herself break while he watched. She couldn't let herself be weak.
"I do not deserve your forgiveness, but someday, perhaps you will understand," he said, "Ar lath ma, vhenan."
"You will not call me that again, Harellan," she said, "Dirthara-ma."
He did not follow her as she made her way back through the field of the dead.