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There are times dreams feel so real. They are few and far between, but they always feel like home.
The dreams came more frequently now. Due to just how frequent, Joran now understood what they were. The dreams were not dreams at all, but a walk in another reality so closely related and bound to his own it was often hard to tell he was asleep. At first it was nearly frightening, not being able to tell one reality from the next and being confused as to why an area looked different than he expected as his company traveled through.. but now it was easier and he took to relaxing in this reality. This dream land of magic and memories.
It was sunny this time. Joran lay on a small hill just under a mighty oak tree no longer living in the real world, enjoying it. The breeze was soft on his skin and carried with it a tune so old it was but a whisper. He had heard it many times through his travels and had taken to humming along with it. The words he could never decipher, but the melody was sweet and uplifting, as if it was the music that welcomed spring.
He hummed to himself, enjoying the way the breeze carried the sound away. Many of his troubles went into that song and into this reality, and it was no different now. There was a difference, however, in that his song was interrupted by the sound of approaching feet. That was certainly unusual.
Joran looked up and was only half surprised to see Solas was the one approaching. He offered a smile and got a smirk in return.
“Hello,” the other elf said softly.
Joran nodded, still trying to catch the last few bars of the song before it faded.
“May I join you?”
This time Joran laughed softly. “Of course! Please.”
Solas offered something more of a smile before he sat down next to the Inquisitor.
He stayed quiet for a moment before articulating his thoughts.
“I heard you singing. It's not often this place hears that tune anymore.”
Joran laughed once again. “I wouldn't call it singing. I can't understand the words, but I love the melody.. it's comforting.”
“I'm surprised you can hear it at all,” Solas replied with a chuckle. “It is so old, even older than the seeding of the tree we bask under.”
Joran smiled, turning his face to the sunlight peeking through the branches.
“It's mostly memory,” he said. “I used to come here in the fade as a child before I knew what it was.. rarely, but the melody was always on the wind. I used to think of it as a lullaby- perhaps of Falon’Din. I wanted to remember it because I wondered if, or perhaps I once believed it was what he sung as he brought animals and men alike across the veil to the slumber… but now it seems more like a song of renewal.. of spring and all things green.”
Solas chuckled once more. “I would say you're right in some ways, but I'm not sure you would believe how I know.”
“You have visited the fade far more than any of us, I would most certainly believe your interpretation over my own any day, my friend. I have hardly had any time to decipher and learn all you have.”
Solas laughed and nodded. “That is true, however I would not be so quick to trust as you do, Inquisitor… You have a good heart all the same.”
Joran laughed softly. “Even if we are both wrong, there is something to be said about similar interpretations, no?”
After his statement, Joran felt the odd pull that he knew was indicative of his body starting to wake. “Ah,” he mused quietly, “It's been so long… I'm happy to have heard it again, whatever it's meaning. I'm happy to know you have heard it too and it is not something only I hear on the breeze.”
Joran offered another smile and Solas did the same.
“I will see you when you wake, my friend. May you enjoy your time in the fade as well.”
Joran let himself settle more fully in the grass. He could only stave off waking for so long, even if he knew he'd be waking well before any of the rest of their company. Old hunter's instincts were a difficult thing to shake.
His breathing came more evenly and he felt himself bleed back into reality.
Solas stayed behind, pondering what he had heard from the Inquisitor. The fact that he was able to hear that tune and had heard it many times throughout his years was astounding. It was so faded that Solas himself had nearly forgotten it existed. He had also nearly forgotten the many acts of Falon'Din that lead to that Melody's inception. It was unnerving how the Inquisitor not only held the servitude mark of his former kin, but could recognize his tune as well. Not versed in magic as any of the shells of mages he encountered, perhaps Joran’s magic dwelled in his memories… the lost fragmented soul of Falon’Din ever trying to return home, helped by the anchor that granted him stolen time in the faded lands ripped from their rightful reality. Solas worried what it would mean if Joran ever managed to hear the words sung.. what would that old soul remember then?
~~
"Ah, Solas! How wonderful to see you again," the Inquisitor chuckled.
Solas had a headache, so while the Inquisitor's kindness was welcomed his volume was not.
"It has not been so long, my friend," he said as he rubbed his temple softly. "We had breakfast together this morning."
"Ah yes, such a strange thing to do in the mornings… consuming fruits and meats. Would that not have more a place upon the tables of banquets rather than small, pitiful, insignificant meal times?"
Solas rubbed his temple again, trying to ignore the cold rush of adrenaline that shot though him. That was not Joran. Had his head not been throbbing so painfully he would have jumped up immediately to confront the entity consuming his friend's mind, but he had not the strength to do it.
All he could do was futilely rub his temple and hope it would go away- the pain in his head as well as his heart.
"We must talk, my friend… if that is what I should call you anymore."
Solas struggled to open his eyes to meet the pink-seeded green eyes of his dear mortal friend, tainted as they were by disgust and wrath.
Solas would live a hundred lives, have this headache in all of them and more, if only it would burn that image from his mind. But that was the point, wasn't it? To bring him even more pain.
"Come," said the impostor, "we will meet in the fade."
~~
It was a blessed relief to be rid of that headache, but dread and pain still cut at Solas' heart.
"Falon'Din…"
The Spectre nodded his head- a respectful gesture that surprised Solas, but it also brought his attention to the still figure behind the elf opposite him.
Under that long-dead and decimated oak was Joran. He would look to be sleeping peacefully to any other person who entered the fade, but Solas could see exactly what was wrong with the picture. He was too still. As if death had finally taken his soul… but it was worse, that soul was standing right in front of him. A beacon and shameful reminder of all he had done and all he had yet to do to make it right.
"Hello, old friend."