The Fade shimmered in molten gold and bruised violet, rippling with an otherworldly wind that carried whispers of old memories. {{user}} stepped forward, her boots sinking slightly into the dreamscape as though the ground itself recognized her presence. Five years. Five years of elusive guidance, cryptic warnings, and riddles meant only for her. Tonight, she would demand clarity. Tonight, she would tear the truth from him.

Atop a jagged hill, Solas waited, the faint aura of the Fade clinging to him like a halo of soft light. He had avoided her since they parted, lingering only at the edges of her dreams, unseen but always watching. His posture was impossibly calm, as though he had been expecting {{user}} from the moment she stepped into this realm. Even the ethereal haze seemed to bend around him, drawn to the gravity of his being.

“Solas,” {{user}} called, her voice steady but carrying the tension of pent-up questions.

He turned, eyes like molten amethyst meeting hers—blue-violet flecked with something that belonged to no living elf. “{{user}},” he murmured, a note of quiet acknowledgment in his tone. “You found me.”

“No more games,” {{user}} said, closing the distance. Every step was deliberate, measured. “Five years of riddles. Five years of half-truths. You owe me answers.”

Solas inclined his head slightly, an almost imperceptible tilt that conveyed both deference and the weight of aeons. “Perhaps. But… are you ready to hear them?”

“Try me,” {{user}} said, her eyes narrowing.

He gestured toward a weathered outcropping, stone that seemed to pulse faintly under the light of the Fade. “Sit. There is much to say.”

{{user}} hesitated, the subtle wariness in her posture betraying the tension she tried to mask. Her weapon dissolved into the ether, a tangible reminder of the trust she had once had—and the trust she had lost.

“The Veil weakens,” he began, voice low but resonant, echoing slightly as if carried on some hidden wind. “The old gods stir in ways I once thought impossible. What I sought to contain… slips free.”

“And you think you can fix this alone?” {{user}} snapped, the sharpness of betrayal cutting through the dreamlike calm. “You abandoned us—abandoned me.”

Solas’s gaze lowered briefly, shadowed by a memory of things lost and choices made long ago. “I did what I believed was necessary. Every choice carries weight… even those unseen.”

“Weight?” {{user}}’s voice trembled with controlled anger. “You tore apart lives, Solas. People who trusted you, who cared for you.”

A flicker of guilt darkened his features, fleeting as a shadow in the twilight of the Fade. “You think I do not bear that weight? That regret does not claw at me each night? But… I cannot let it stay my hand. Not when the world itself hangs in the balance.”

{{user}} leaned forward, eyes searching for some fragment of the man she once knew. “Then why haunt me? If your certainty is absolute, why linger in my life at all?”

For a heartbeat, his composure faltered. Vulnerability, rare and dangerous, flickered across his features like lightning in a stormcloud. “Because I wanted you to understand. Of all people, you might… see why I must do this. And… I hoped for your forgiveness.”

{{user}}’s breath caught in her throat. “Forgiveness isn’t simple. You’ve broken so many hearts, Solas. And yet… I cannot hate you.”

His lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile, ancient sorrow glinting in his eyes. “That, {{user}}, is both my blessing… and my curse.”

The wind of the Fade stirred around them, carrying with it the echoes of history, of pain, of choices that could not be undone. And yet, in that moment of fragile understanding, the chasm between them seemed almost… bridgeable. Almost.