Prophecies Cannot Be Changed (Solas x OFC)

When abandoned and alone, Death shalt befriend thee

Pala, pala, pala! How could that have happened? Who even was that elf?

"We found him not even an hour ago at the temple, in the centre of the explosion." Solas had asked that out loud? "He was not on the official list of attendants at the Conclave nor matched any description of... unofficial guests. The thing in his palm - we call it the Mark - flares with the breach and expands. He is feverish, and as we suspect, in pain. Our mages were not able to identify the Mark, but they believe this is what caused the Breach. And, according to our soldiers that witnessed the whole event, he stumbled out of the Breach itself." Leliana supplied matter of fact, as if it was completely normal for a mortal to physically be in the Fade and then exit it through a rift, relatively unharmed. Just another casual Friday.

Fenehdis, Solas cursed again, kneeling beside the elf to examine the mark. What the spymaster had said explained nothing and added even more questions. The elf was no spirit or demon, he was sure of his nature, so why the Fade?

"That is most concerning. If I may, I will examine the mark now. It may take a while." He announced to the Seeker. He needed to focus on the mark and its magic without having to watch out for Cassandra's sword or smite if she found his actions suspicious. She nodded, reluctantly, and signalled to the scout to hand him over his staff.

He didn't need it to cast, but it helped for now in his weakened form and was good for appearances, so he accepted it and slowly willed his magic to manifest and examined the Anchor.

As he had suspected, it was a mess. The Anchor was not created to be used by a mortal, without connection to the Fade and understanding of magic. It was not designed to be used by anybody but him. As a result, its power was unsettled, flaring, searching for something that wasn't there. The elf's body could not handle such energy, especially that unhinged. The magic slowly crept deeper into his hand, binding itself within his skin, tendons, and muscle, damaging and destroying his flesh as it went. It acted like a parasite, anchoring itself to his hand and feeding on it.

Without any intervention, the Anchor would consume his hand completely, and then move on up his body, to the forearm, elbow, arm... The elf would die eventually, in great pain, seeing his body eaten away by raw Fade energy, just as the Breach would consume the walking world. And all of this, again, was because of him, his lack of patience and foresight.

Foolish, foolish wolf, have you learned nothing of your mistakes? Have you not caused enough death and suffering? Did you even-

Stop, pala, stop!

He needed to calm down and think! Think of the solution!

He could try to absorb the Anchor. It was his Anchor; he wouldn't have such problems bearing it and he would be able to close the Breach.

Solas tensed. It would take much from him at his current state but it was the best course of action now. He pulled more power from the Fade, easily as the Veil was not so troublesome for him then for other mages. It was his own magic, in the end. He could feel the energy enter his body and mind, filling him with tingling, electrifying current. It built up just below his skin, just at the verge of his consciousness. A steady, delicate pressure, ready to be shaped into anything his mind and will desired. A gift of both creation and destruction, craved and feared - but why fear the tool, when it was the hand that decided what would prevail?

He let his magic into the elf's hand and assessed the damage the Anchor had already done to the flesh. He decided that he should start the process by healing some of it. He couldn't reverse the majority, but it would be easier and less painful if at least the edges of the Anchor were healed and the degeneration was not spreading. He mapped the elf's hand and the extent of the Anchor in his mind and slowly regenerated the tissue. He was no trained healer, but he had his share of field medicine during the wars.