DA:I | Simply Solavellan: A Timeline ✔️

Teachers and Teachings

[Soundtrack: A Celtic Lore by Adrian Von Ziegler]

"I have arranged for your tutors to travel to Skyhold, Inquisitor. They should be here on the morrow."

"Josephine, I've told you to tell me when you sign me up for something beforehand. You know, so I can say no."

"Nonsense, Inquisitor. You need to know more than just the bow and arrow to defend yourself if you are to lead an army across Thedas. That is why I have three specific tutors arriving at Skyhold to teach you some useful skills a rogue such as yourself should know."

I groaned. Solas was already teaching me about the keystones we found throughout the Hinterlands and studies on the Fade. In fact, between learning those and the Orlesian etiquette Josephine insists I memorize, my head felt like it was being overworked.

"How will I have time to learn from three specific tutors, Josie?"

"I have informed Cullen that your sparring will cease for the time being, and Solas has agreed to cut out the keystone studies until your training is complete."

"Josephine," I groaned again.

"Stop whining, Inquisitor. I swear, you are like a child."

"Sera is the child here, not me."

"Do not make this about others." She pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation and returned her attention to the assorted papers on her desk. Her quill moved excitedly as she wrote.

I left Josephine's office to find Solas to begin our Fade studies.

Solas was almost always in the rotunda below the library. When I arrived, I noticed the smell of fresh paint. I looked around the room and spotted the newest painting that he had completed to the wall with the other two. It was of what seemed to be Corypheus and his stolen orb. The dark figure loomed over the room like a lurking nightmare waiting on you to fall asleep. It was unsettling.

Solas spotted me from the corner of his eye as he stood over the desk, both hands resting on the edge.

"Ah, Annessa. You've arrived. Are you ready to begin today's lesson?"

"Yes. Uh... the new painting is brilliant. Very detailed."

"Thank you," he said, placing his hands behind him and gazing at the painting. "You don't seem too thrilled about it, however."

"Of course not. It's Corypheus, isn't it? Why would you paint that?"

"Inquisitor... One day, we will all be dead and gone. The remnants of our story will linger here as a reminder of history. The murals I paint on these walls are reflections of my time spent here in the Inquisition. Corypheus, no matter how terrible he may be, is very real. And we cannot change the past. He is a part of this story. Thus, the retelling of this story requires his presence."

I pondered on his words, then nodded. "You're right, as usual."

He smiled warmly. "Have a seat."

I took a seat on the other side of the desk, and he sat in the chair on his usual side. He rummaged through the books and tomes that he had stacked on his desk.

I admit I loved learning about magic and the Fade. I wished I had possessed my mother's ability to manipulate magic the way she could. She was a natural healer and could levitate just about anything with ease. She could start a flame on any candle, in any campfire, simply by looking at it. And when she told me stories of her dreams, they were so vivid and detailed. I envied Solas, but took all of his teachings to heart.

Solas's brow was a straight line, his face serious and focused. I smirked at the way he pursed his lips when he took each book from the stack and set it aside if it did not meet his needs.

"Ah, here we are," he said as he handed me the book he was searching for. "I found this little treasure yesterday while searching the library."

I read the cover. Walking the Fade: A Harrowing.

Then, I opened it to the first page. 

I found myself on a plateau of swirling smoke and mist. I could not see my feet, or perhaps I had no feet in that place. Each step was treacherous. I had to believe there was a ground. If I didn't, there wouldn't be, and I would fall into nothingness. I was protected only by my will and my magic...

____________________

The next day, I walked toward the stone well not far from the Skyhold stables to meet with my new teachers. Their names were Three-Eyes, Heir, and Kihm. They were an artificer, an assassin, and a tempest, respectively.

Three-Eyes was a human man with a tan complexion and a five-o'clock shadow. He looked a bit on edge and kept the hood of his brown robe pulled up over his head.

Heir was a Dalish elf and seemed to have a permanent far-off look in her eyes. Her hair was black as night and her eyes an icy blue. She looked the most approachable, and not just because she was an elf.

It was because aside from Three-Eye's nervousness, Kihm's incessant conversation with himself was making me uneasy.

Kihm was a human man as well and wore a plain set of scout armor with a distinct tattered orange scarf hanging from his neck. He had short brown hair shaved close to his head and a clean shave on his face. He had a scar across his left cheek and one on his temple that caused a bald spot in his hair.

I approached Heir first, but before I could say anything to her, she spoke to me with that look that seemed as if she was watching the clouds. She explained to me that one does not wish to be an assassin more than one would wish to be a sword or a cudgel; such were the tools of others. And she explained that death had nothing to do with assassination somehow and that we walked the path between life and death. After her explanation of her profession and giving me a small assignment, I approached a different teacher.

Three-Eyes was more level-headed but spoke in hushed whispers like he was afraid someone was watching him. He assured me that his class was the most artistic but beneficial in the way that we were all "makers." He would teach me how to become an artificer like the Maker, as the Maker was the first artificer in history; the Maker crafted his traps, his children, and set them loose to do his will, then turned away. Much like the way of an artificer.

Kihm halted his conversation amongst himself long enough to explain to me what a tempest was. He explained that tempests used concoctions to turn the tide of battle in our favor, but had nothing to do with potion-brewing. Though when I asked why his name was so underwhelming, he got hostile quite fast and suggested he change it to "Bluster Kerfuffle, Master of Windy Import" to satisfy me.

After a trying day of practicing with each teacher to see which path I wanted to begin learning first, I burst into Josephine's office.

"Josephine, why are all of my teachers insane?"

She jumped up. "I assure you, Inquisitor, they are the best at what they do, even if they do seem a bit... quirky."

"A bit quirky? The assassin's mind is floating outside her body, the tempest has smashed one too many flasks near his own breathing space, and I'm nearly convinced the artifice is constantly being watched."