Questions

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Cole was standing, rocking really, in the corner of the tavern's upper floor. "Shite," he muttered. "He's wrong. Dead-eyed crazy. Shite. I called him a him. Is he even alive? I hate raisins."

Fen'Asha approached slowly, hoping to meet his gaze so as to not scare the living daylights out of the poor kid. She waved a hand in front of his face, drawing his eyes. He was there.

Cole smiled slightly.

"How does that work? Your mind...?" Fen'Asha said.

"It works," said Cole.

"You see things differently," said Fen'Asha. "It must be difficult."

"It is," said Cole. "Sometimes."

"What do you hear, Cole?"

"They remember me," he said. His eyes lifted off again. "Their eyes stick, some more. They want me to be. Varric is quiet inside, pulls me more to here. Makes me a person, calls me kid. A friend. Solas. Bright and sad. Observes. Accepts. Sees the soul, spirit self. Somehow, there is sorrow."

"Sorrow," Fen'Asha whispered.

"Wisdom knows enduring is pain," said Cole. "He hurts for her, another of many he could not save. He carries unnecessary deaths."

"How do you know this, Cole?"

"I start by listening," said Cole. "I hear hurt. Sometimes solutions are found by giving something. Food, a blanket, sleep. Some are less clear. Terrible tangles, catching on a crack. Fixed, festering. The person makes a pearl of pain and I shake it loose. No pearl, no pain. They can heal. They can hope."

Fen'Asha raised an eyebrow. "And what about me? What do you see when you listen to me?"

"You are....too bright," said Cole. "Like counting birds against the sun. The mark makes you more, but beyond it you reach further. You pull it through to this side, make it real here. And...the weight of all on you. All the hopes, fears. You are theirs."

She nodded. It was beginning to make a sort of sense in its own elegant way.

"I hope I help," he said.

"You do," she said. "Thank you."

"What about...Fen'Harel?" she said. She felt strange asking him so many questions, like she was quizzing him for an upcoming examination.

"There is old pain, shadows forgotten from dreams too real," he said without hesitation. "This side is slow and heavy, but here is what can change."

"Is he dangerous?" she ventured.

"To your enemies."

"And for me?"

"He is...drawn to you," said Cole. "Hopes for you, through you. Simple truths that were hard to recall. Happiness in your eyes. He cares for you deeply. More than he considered possible."

How was that possible? Fen'Asha blinked, nearly tripped over her boots. She took a few steps back.

"That," said Cole. He was pointing at her hand, the one with the mark. "It shines on you. Shimmering. Sharp. Strong. Pure. Loud. You ripple like water when the stone is dropped. It reminds me of me."

Fen'Asha tried to put her thoughts together, but there was little connective tissue. She fished the amulet out of her pocket instead. "Leliana found the amulet Solas told us about," she said.

"Not here," said Cole. "We need somewhere that can go away if it becomes sharp."

Cole headed for Solas' study, walking quickly and impatiently. His hat bobbed through the crowd and he presented the amulet to the elf when he met him.

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