The journey to Antiva brought with it many things. Firstly, when Samahl realized that in order to get to Antiva, the closest way was to cross the Waking Sea, she tried to plead with Solas that they just go around. She had no fear of the sea, but even just thinking about it made her remember her parents and what had happened to them shortly after landing on the other side of the water. Solas gave her an apologetic look, but he informed her that if they tried to go around, it would easily add a month and a half to two months of travel instead of doing it in a couple of weeks. Her shoulders sagged, but she agreed to it, telling him that she understood.
She just knew she would have to face it and get it over with.
As they traveled back north, to where they would find a harbor to get them across, they continued their work with Heulwen. It was clear that neither of them were trainers by any means, but thankfully on Heulwen’s behalf, she was quite intelligent. She quickly learned her signs for sitting, laying down, staying, and coming. That seemed to be the easy part. Any time during their travels, while they were avoiding the main roads and they neared other people, Heulwen would go on alert, but she never conveyed it well. Samahl would just take note on how the mabari would stiffen and freeze for a moment to listen, then keep her eyes pointed in the same direction as she kept moving. Solas tried to implement something to get her to give Samahl some sort of sign, but nothing was clicking yet.
By some miracle and close encounters, they managed to avoid battle. As much as Samahl was ready to prove that she could handle herself, judging by how much she was progressing with her shooting, she wasn’t entirely keen on being bloodthirsty. She just felt like it was all her fault that they were avoiding the roads and avoiding contact with people, despite the fact that Solas assured her again and again that it was because of him being a mage. He said that he didn’t want to put her in danger.
Each time he mentioned that, her stomach would do little flips and she couldn’t argue any further. She was starting to think that he knew he could win if he said that.
Once they entered a small town with a port, Solas tried to keep their ears covered as much as he could, though Samahl though it would still be too obvious that they were elves due to their foot wrappings. Humans didn’t go wandering around with those on. However, it seemed that it helped, somewhat. Or maybe it was Heulwen’s presence. Either way, she kept an eye on all the people who shot them ugly looks, making sure that they weren’t going to be jumped at any moment. Solas spoke some quick business with whoever it was that owned the boat that they would be traveling on. He took hold of Samahl’s hand to lead her on board, where they went below deck and settled in, shoved in among sacks of food. Heulwen looked particularly unhappy about being on the boat, seeing as she paced back and forth for quite some time before settling down close by.
“Why are we in this small room?” Samahl inquired, trying to take deep breaths and not think about the journey ahead on the rough waters.
“We don’t have too many options,” he replied, his face apologetic. “It’s lucky enough that they will take us knowing we are elves and we have a mabari. Here, at least, we should be relatively undisturbed.”
She furrowed her brows and pulled her knees up to her chest, eyes cast down at the floor. She remembered how cramped and claustrophobic it was the first time around, but this time wasn’t feeling much better. Just instead of bodies all crammed together, it was sacks of food and, out of all damn things, a warhound. She didn’t like the idea of Heulwen being on a boat, especially when there was clearly nowhere proper for her to relieve herself. Hopefully the trip would be quick.
As quick as one could travel on the Waking Sea, that is.
Solas’s fingers brushed against her arm before he set a hand on her back and rubbed gently, drawing her attention. His eyes were sad, his figure seeming to sag, the shadows of his hood creeping along the features of his face. “I’m sorry. If this wasn’t an urgent thing, I wouldn’t insist on this so much. I completely understand if you-”
She shook her head almost instantly, though her expression didn’t change much. “I’m coming with you. Although...can I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
“Why is it so urgent?”
Again. The way he tensed and went entirely still while his rush of thoughts and emotions swirled in his eyes was now not unfamiliar to her. She sighed softly, unable to contain her disappointment that he couldn’t be fully honest with her and started to turn her head away before his hands began to move again.
“I must see what is within this temple. The information I could find there would be...quite useful.”
“For what?”
“A...personal goal.”
This piqued her interest. She clearly guessed he had his own reasons for wandering the countryside looking for old elvhen ruins and for venturing into towns to take a look at alienages. She’d never really figured out what those reasons could possibly be. Still, something told her that he was compromising. He had been very secretive so far. This was more than he’d given her before, so she doubted she would receive much else. Still, she pried, “Is it too personal?”
Regret flashed in his eyes, the sadness still looming. “I’m afraid so.”
It was strange. Part of her felt some slight relief. He was still keeping his secrets close to his chest, but he’d at least...almost given her something. He hinted, but couldn’t give her the full picture. Yet that small thing gave her some hope. Hope that he may yet trust her with the entirety. She gave him a half smile. “It’s okay. Maybe one day, you can tell me everything.”
It surprised her when he said, with almost no hesitation, “I would like that very much.”
She knew not what else to say, so she fell silent.
The ship was as unpleasant as she’d thought up in her head. The horrid rocking and swaying made her stomach churn and bile burn at her throat. She tried so many things - curling up tight, deep breaths, looking up, watching a fixed point on the wall across from where she was - but nothing seemed to help. Noticing her discomfort, Solas held out a hand towards her, palm out, and his hand gleamed for a few moments. A cooling sensation caressed her body and for the first time in well over an hour, she felt as though she could draw a fresh breath of air. That alone helped some and she tried to give him a look of thanks, but she was fairly certain it just seemed like a grimace.
Heulwen paced and was tossed about the room, being thrown into the sacks. Her eyes shone with panic and she kept looking to Samahl, who thoroughly did not want the mabari to be thrown against her. She was having a hard enough time keeping herself sane that if Heulwen landed on top of her, she may possibly lose it. It was a tiny enough room as it was. She just wished that Heulwen would just calm down.
Poor Samahl had not considered how long this journey would be. Just the first few hours felt like some torture from hell, but they had days to go to get across the water. By time evening came, she felt sick and trapped, wanting to be anywhere but there on that ship. Solas tried to console her and distract her, but not much could hold her focus when she felt like the ship was rocking so harshly from side to side that it was going to capsize. She had managed to close her eyes at one point, leaning against a sack of potatoes, but all too quickly, she was jerked away by exactly what she had predicted - Heulwen bumping against her. She yelped and jumped to her feet, but she had nowhere to move to. Her back was to the wall, food was on her left, and Solas was on her right. The mabari looked at her with a slightly happier look when she saw Samahl up, but seemed to understand quickly that she did not feel the same. Heulwen lowered her head slightly and put some distance between them. Solas gently took her wrist and tugged her back down.
Only pure exhaustion got her to sleep at all that night. She didn’t wake in the Fade. She only remembered darkness, but when she regained consciousness, she felt rather warm on one side. Thinking it was Heulwen trying to snuggle with her again, she inhaled sharply and sat upright at an alarming speed. However, Heulwen wasn’t the source. She was curled up, but awake, a couple feet in front of her. Realization hit her and her cheeks warmed. Slowly turning her head, she saw Solas shifted about some, but he didn’t open his eyes just yet. At some point, she’d tipped and leaned on him in her sleep.
She was tempted to try and rest some more, but with a pitching movement in the ship, an urge hit her and she knew she needed to find somewhere to relieve herself. By time she returned, very wobbly on her feet, Solas was awake and seemed tense. When she entered back into the room, he appeared to relax somewhat.
It was days before the violent rocking started to cease. Samahl could tell from the first moment that it wasn’t nearly as bad and excitement bubbled in her chest. She had lost track of how long she’d been confined in that room. She had at least been able to eventually focus on Solas as he told her more of what he learned from the Fade as far as the ancients were concerned. Focusing as best she could, she attempted to commit it all to memory. Not only the stories, but the way he told them. It seemed as though it took no effort. There were rarely pauses, no furrowed brows that were connected with recollection, and a look of longing and remembrance would gleam in his eyes.
As though he had lived it. But that was impossible. He did say that he had delved into multiple memories time and again to make sure he had gotten absolutely everything out of it, but...could one person really remember so much, so many minute details? Perhaps he had some magic spell that helped him with that as well. She had no idea as to the limits of magic. Even if he tried to explain it to her, she likely wouldn’t grasp it all that well.
The ship finally jolted and came to a still. She looked at Solas with the brightest smile she’d had in days and all but leapt to her feet. Land! They had to be at their harbor! She would never complain about walking ever again if it just meant that she didn’t need to cross that awful body of water anytime soon. Heulwen seemed to be just as excited as her, spinning in circles - though it was more of an excited hobble, thanks to her leg - and her butt wriggling about.
Solas unfortunately reigned them in. “We need to wait before we disembark.”
“Why?” Samahl demanded, almost immediately falling into a pout.
“It was a part of the deal. One of the crew will tell us when we can leave. I don’t think they want their other passengers to see that they allowed elves aboard.”
The thought irritated Samahl while within another part of her, an alarm went off. She started to panic and think the worst - perhaps the crew didn’t really want to let them go. Maybe they were secretly pirates or slavers and were just going to try and capture them. Hopefully that wasn’t the case, but she hadn’t exactly had much luck regarding humans. Or other elves, for that matter. Just anyone. She didn’t care much for any peoples.
Except Solas. He was an exception.
Much to her relief, her worst thoughts did not bear fruit. A young man stuck his head through the door and spoke quickly, making a gesture. Solas stood and nodded to Samahl, throwing his hood on. She followed suit, Heulwen bringing up the rear and together, the three made it off the ship safely and walked out into the rain. She looked back towards the water and watched the waves for a moment, whitecaps present everywhere with strong winds blowing against her, nearly flinging her hood off. Heulwen nearly bumped against her leg, which snapped her back into the moment. She needed to keep moving and not fall behind.
She trailed after Solas, her movements a little wobbly. She was on solid ground, but she still felt like she was on the ship. She watched a fixed point on the ground, but she couldn’t get her legs to move her in a straight line. For what it was worth, it looked like Solas was a little unsteady as well.
They didn’t move on too far, which she was a little grateful for. It was irritating not having her body moving the way she wanted. They kept their heads low as they moved throughout the harbor town. Solas bargained for some food that would last them until they got further into the Free Marches. He also took her towards a small clothing stall, run by a dwarf couple.
“You could use some new clothes,” Solas explained to her. “You can’t continue running about in that dress, especially not here. I doubt the landscape will be as forgiving.”
She nodded in agreement. The dwarves spoke to them, Solas translating when she couldn’t read their lips. With a little bit of conversing, Solas gestured for her to approach and find some better traveling clothes. The woman dwarf assisted her in selecting sizes and making recommendations, which Samahl appreciated. She made sure her clothes would be comfortable and breathable - her dress had been a bit warm and restrictive to move in, especially with the bow and arrow. She ended up with a short sleeved tunic that tucked into her leggings. The foot wrappings she received from Solas wound up from her feet to her calves, ending just below her knees. Since she had her cloak, she didn’t get a sweater to wear overtop it, especially since they were heading towards a much warmer climate. She also ended up with a sash for around her waist and the dwarves were kind enough to throw in an undershirt for her that had three-quarter length sleeves for free. Solas paid them - with Samahl eyeballing his money pouch, thinking that it hadn’t seemed to have depleted much since their journey together began - and they thanked them before going on their way.
They left the town, Samahl keeping her new clothes in her sack until she found a better moment to change out of her dress. They walked in the rain until the city was out of sight. Solas then veered off from the path, searching for some form of shelter they could use for the evening. It took some time of slogging through the mud before they finally found a small formation of rocks that worked as a small barrier from the rain, but it would be tight quarters for them. Thankfully, without having to ask, Solas called Heulwen to his other side so that he would be between the two. She gave him a grateful look after glancing at the mabari with a hint of uncertainty.
With all the rain, it meant that they couldn’t build a fire. Solas did summon a rather large flame to hover in front of them and warm and dry them. Samahl stared rather intently into the orb of fire, her mind still thinking about the pouch of money, for some reason. She hadn’t seen him trade anything to anyone in exchange for coin. He hadn’t sold anything. He didn’t do anything that earned money. So how was it that he didn’t seem to run low? Was he secretly carrying a ridiculous amount somewhere in his bag? Surely not. That would be too much added weight to be carrying day after day. He definitely wasn’t stealing any. He wouldn’t do anything that could cause severe backlash and draw attention to them.
No matter how much she thought, she couldn’t come up with a reasonable answer. That was when magical, glowing letters hovered in front of her face: Samahl?
She blinked and tilted her head towards Solas, who was casting a look of puzzlement at her. “Are you okay?” he signed. “You seem like you’re in very deep thought. Or are you still feeling ill from the ship?”
Sure, her stomach was still settling down, but...no. She shook her head. “I’m feeling better. I’m just thinking.”
“About?”
“Probably something trivial.” She shrugged. “I think I’m also just exhausted. Sleeping on solid ground will do a world of good.”
He nodded in agreement. “I got much more rest on the journey. Why don’t you sleep for all of tonight? I’ll keep watch.”
Her brows immediately knit together. “No,” she replied quickly. “You don’t need to do that. I don’t want to be dead weight.”
“You aren’t,” he assured her, his face gentle and genuine. “It’s just a matter of fact. I managed to rest more than you. Not to mention, I forced you to come along in that manner with me. I’m sorry that we had to take the ship instead of going by land, but it would have just taken far too long. It was clearly unpleasant for you and I regret that.”
What was she supposed to say to that? “You didn’t force me into anything. I chose to go on the boat.”
“Still. I insist. Why don’t you get some rest?”
Her eyes were very heavy and undoubtedly red, that much was certain. But the thought of Solas sitting up all night, staring into the darkness with the falling rain just seemed...well, unfair was too weak of a word. Still, a part of her was already sagging and relaxing, the lull of sleep sounding all too good. She repositioned herself so that she would be able to lay down somewhat and curl up without being in his way. “Promise me you’ll wake me if you need me?”
“I promise. Goodnight, Samahl.”
“...Goodnight.”
She didn’t even remember her head touching down on her sack, which she was using as a pillow, before darkness claimed her.
Her dreams were scattered and meaningless, all sorts of things happening rapidly and transitioning in ways that made no sense. She would see people walking by in a crowded street, then be standing on the edge of a cliff, alone and in a storm. She saw elves - both city and Dalish - casting looks at her, then turning their backs. The hot sun beat down on her as she saw a line of mabaris marching out towards a large group of people in black armor. She blinked and she was in a quiet grove under the moonlight. The small pond that was there suddenly splashed up, much like the Waking Sea, and engulfed her, but when she took a deep breath of air, she was standing in a golden building. Things settled down. The scene stopped changing. She took a breath of air and it didn’t smell fresh - it was musty and thick. She coughed and looked around. Where was she?
“Ah, Samahl.”
Hearing a voice that wasn’t Solas’s startled her, but she took a moment to recognize it. She turned and looked for the source, relaxing when it was who she thought it was. “Wisdom.”
“Hello. It has been a short while.”
“It’s...not been a pleasant week.”
“Oh...your journey across the Waking Sea. Solas mentioned it to me.”
Samahl couldn’t help but give Wisdom a bewildered look. “How could he focus enough to even come into the Fade?”
A knowing smile tugged at her lips, though it seemed a little sad as well. “For him, being in the Fade is as easy as breathing. It doesn’t require much concentration. But yes, he told me about it and he did say that it wasn’t easy for you.”
“...Ah,” was all she could say, tilting her head down.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Wisdom scolded. “Come now, lift your head up.” As Samahl obliged, the spirit glanced around, as if making sure no one were nearby, listening. “I must say, he was quite guilty and flustered.”
“He-...he was?”
“Oh, yes. He felt like it was his fault that he’d made you uncomfortable - in more ways than one. First with your mabari, now with this.”
“What- No! I insisted we save Heulwen, I just wasn’t...expecting what came after. I did that to myself, he has nothing to be guilty of there. And I already told him that as far as the ship was concerned, I made the decision to get on it myself. He didn’t grab me and force me on. He mentioned before we boarded that I could stay if I wanted, but…”
She trailed off, leaving a void of silence. Wisdom hummed thoughtfully before saying nonchalantly, “You don’t want to be separated from him.”
The all too familiar burning sensation on her cheeks and ears came to her skin. She raised her eyes to meet Wisdom’s. “...No. I don’t. But I...wonder if I’m just a hindrance to him.”
“You mostly certainly are not. I think you are quite a good influence on him.” Wisdom crossed her arms and nodded decisively.
“Me? How?”
“You are headstrong, but gentle. Determined, but shy. You have an eager thirst for knowledge, which I know he is all too happy to quench.”
“But does he trust me?” she blurted. Realizing she’d said it aloud, she cleared her throat and shook her head. “No, nevermind.”
“Ma falon…” The expression on Wisdom’s face was not unlike the sad restraint she’d seen on Solas’s before. “Solas is...a man with many secrets. He is a man with a complicated past. But I thoroughly believe that he will come to see that he can trust you with those secrets. Does he trust you? I believe wholeheartedly that he does. However, these secrets aren’t something to be told lightly, for they can put people in danger. If he hasn’t told you yet, he is certainly trying to protect you.”
“He shouldn't have to bear them alone, though.”
“On that, we agree. He is a stubborn man, though. He feels like he can shoulder many, many things alone. Just be patient with him. I think he may come to the realization sooner than you think.”
“The...realization?”
“Yes.” Her smile returned. “That you won’t leave him, even after learning his secrets.”
Samahl frowned and started to ask Wisdom another question, but she felt a violent shove on her body and-
-she grunted as she felt her body being shoved into a slight roll. She nearly scrambled to her feet when she saw that it had been Heulwen, pushing at her with her large head, but in the next moment, she saw Solas on his feet, alert, staff in hand and glaring into the darkness. She immediately felt around for her bow and arrows, trying to stand up beside him. She dared not lower her weapon to ask him what was happening.
Because her question was answered when she saw an arrow fly from the shadows and right towards her face.
“What the hell was that thing?!” for the attack sentence starters and any of your OCs :D
Thank you! <3
No matter the cost, Samael was not to be seen. His Keeperinstructed him to go to the Divine’s Conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, akindness extended to him after he ran away from the clan five years ago. Steeringclear of the others, Samael kept off the main road, always traveling far in thetrees, snow going up to his thighs. Harsh conditions, but he did not care. Hewrapped his scarf tightly around his head, covering his neck, mouth and ears,in an effort to fight the cold. It did not help that he refused to make firesat night. When darkness fell, he would quietly set up camp in the forest andquickly gather whatever edible roots and berries he could find when he dug inthe snow. Hunting would be too noisy. Maybe he would be spotted by a shem hunter.He shoved his measly meal in his small bag. His hands were shaking too much todo much else. He ate what he had, hoping it would lessen the grumbling of hisstomach. He fell asleep on a thin blanket,covered by his cloak.
He was up again before dawn. He put his things away andstarted walking again. Following the shems’ trail was almost too easy. However,the Conclave was not a secret as far as Samael knew, and a lot of people wereto attend. He nonetheless remained hidden from view. An elf apostate was welcomenowhere in Thedas.
It took them nine days for the shems to see him for thefirst time. It was careless. He had ventured too closely to the main roadtrying to find food. Too late, he had seen the light of a torch. He ran awayfrom the path, hid in the tress, but when he looked up, the torch’s firereflected in his eyes.
“What the hell was that thing?!” a shem shouted. He had seenSamael’s eyes glow in the darkness. The shems started following him. He couldhear their steps in the snow, crinkling and crunching, snapping branches ontheir way. Samael cursed under his breath. He did not want to use his magic onthem. It was too risky, and they would know that there was an apostate on theloose. The last thing he needed were Templars chasing him, too. Samael knew he could singlehandedly defeat at least six armed shems, but not Templars who could control his magic. He keptrunning, going deeper in the forest, until he was breathless, and his legs wereheavy. He put his hands on his knees and bent his body to calm down. He looked aroundand listened carefully to make sure that his pursuers had stopped. There wasnothing. He did not stop for the night.
For the next days, Samael was even more cautious. He did notsleep, did not eat. He walked ahead, trudging through the snow, his body screamingfor him to stop, but he could not; the threat of the Templars frightened himtoo much. He walked and walked, until he saw an edifice appearing through theclouds: the Temple of Sacred Ashes. He made it.
Secondo Mons. Gracida fu una cospirazione a portare all'elezione di Bergoglio
Papa Francesco dice "qualcosa di eretico un giorno" e il giorno dopo lo contraddice con la verità, questo secondo il vescovo emerito di Corpus Christi, René Gracida (di 95 anni), a PatrickCoffin.media (10 luglio).
Pertanto, secondo Gracida, non si può non parlare di un papato eretico.
Garcida è convinto che l'elezione di Francesco nel 2013 non fosse valida, a causa di una cospirazione della cosiddetta "mafia di san Gallo" che aveva già nel 2005 cercato di impedire l'elezione del cardinale Ratzinger e poi tramato per portarlo a dimettersi per poter fare eleggere Jorge Bergoglio.
“Non c'è dubbio che ci sia stata una cospirazione per oltre 20 anni a partire dagli anni '90", ha detto Gracida, ricordando che la Constitutio Apostolica Universi Dominici Gregis (1996) minaccia di scomunica chi cerca di manipolare un conclave.
Gracida ha scritto le sue conclusioni a un certo numero di cardinali, ma [senza sorpresa] non ha mai ricevuto una risposta.
Nella stessa intervista, Gracida rivela di aver smesso di celebrare la Nuova Messa quando è andato in pensione nel 1997 e di aver celebrato la Messa Tridentina in latino da allora in poi.
Gracida pensa che Paolo VI "abbia fatto un errore terribile" introducendo il Nuovo Rito.
Aneth ara, Keeper
I write to you from camp at the edge of the
Emma’Hahren,
Today we stop to rest on the borders of the Conclave. The journey so far has been inhospitable bloody cold a little tough, especially once we left the safety of Haven behind and had to traverse the mountains, but the gloves you gave me are
Dammit. Crumpling up his umpteeth draft with a snort, Atreion threw the whole thing into the fire and rose, dodging along the knots of people to the tent that housed what food they had, grumbling all the way. He was never going to get this letter home done at this rate, his mind so full of thoughts that getting them into a coherent order was next to impossible. The Conclave was so close, almost close enough to reach out and touch and everyone could feel it, filling this camp of travellers and strangers with a nervous energy so thick you could cut it. Was it any wonder he couldn’t concentrate? The most important summit in decades - especially for mages like him - and he was but days away from it. He didn’t know whether to laugh or flee.
He did neither, instead lining up for his bowl and bread and ducking out into the night again. Forcing his mind to shut up for now, he peered about the humans and flat-ears for a new seat - his spot closer to the fire almost certainly filled by now. The best he could find was another Dalish, wearing the vallaslin of June and a sour face to match, as familiar as any from his clan - which, in fact, he was. They hadn’t exactly spoken since setting off from the Free Marches, but Atreion would know that scowl anywhere.
“ It’s Elthorn, isn’t it? ” He asked by way of greeting, approaching with a steaming bowl in hand. “ May I sit, kinsman? ”
