Hiding was preferable to accidentally crossing paths with undesirables. Well. The undesirable being his long estranged father.
The Refectory had long begun to feel like his only sanctuary and even those moments were often interrupted. It only encouraged the loner to delve deeper into the stakes in an effort to garner some peace, even if short-lived. With little faith in the researchers currently working on the Eth problem, the healer-turned-researcher went to the source, the books written during the time. Somewhere among these passages were clues on how to fight these devils, some clue how he could protect the only friend who’d ever stuck by him.
And he supposed the piece of soul within Megara too. Ruth had never been religious, chalking up the tales of his people to exaggerations. So when Sylaise had revealed the Evanaruis were in fact not Gods but superior mages, blinded by pride and arrogance, it was odd having his stubborn distrust of the fundamentals of the Dalish to be proved right. His father’s face must be priceless, if he knew, part of Ruth hoped he didn’t, all the more opportunity for him to see that indomitable, unshakable belief crack, just enough.
Azure eyes paused their reading as his father came back to the forefront of his mind. Ruth’s jaw tensed, gaze darting back to the written word in an effort to avoid his mind wandering. To no avail though. His anxiety, brought on by Kellam’s appearance at his resid- Meg’s residence, grew like an approaching thunderstorm. It absorbed his focus entirely, up until he hurled the book across the area in frustration. A drawer to his left was pulled open and closed with force and the distinct ‘clunk’ and ‘dunk’ of glass being placed on the table echoed.
Before taking a swig from the poured rum, Ruth eyed the lone book splayed out against the tiled surface. Tossing back the contents of the glass, he’d set it down not to gently, sighing as he moved around to pick the discarded tomb back up.
He’d grumble under his breath, feet deliberately dragging himself over. “Nearly twenty years have gone by and you pick now to waltz back in? … Fuck, fuck, fuckitty-fuck-fuck.”
After a rather strange meeting upon his entering of Arlathan, Revas had taken the time to wander and while he knew he intended to be here a few days, he would not linger too long. Still shelter for a few nights and at least one secured meal was enough for now, the majority of his belongings now left warded within the room he'd purchased. He did not need much of his travel pack to roam the expanse and finding some of the pathways were familiar to his memory of them helped wonderfully. As much as others might marvel at the architecture of such a place, frankly he had seen better created before his very eyes countless times and while those only visiting looked on in awe at what they saw, the elvhen slipped through the streets with an intended destination in mind. He had learnt a lot along his travels, of new cultures, races and kinds of people. Some ever so curious and others outright hostile whenever he went to offer what help he could as a mage, but there had to be records dating further back then recent memory. Most he'd met thus far were short lived species and thus could not provide him a broader perspective that he'd so often sought out in his youth.
Besides, it wasn't as if he could just go ask Feredir. Nor would he have wanted to bother the other with such pointless questions suited to a curious spirit more than one with a body. Let alone the fact that he wasn't sure if he was- no. Setting that thought aside, the few spirits within the city were kind enough to point the way, when he discovered that what he was after, was in fact not in the same place as it once stood. Getting inside was not an issue and the mere atmosphere almost overwhelmed him as he entered, how many centuries had he spent curled up in such places as a much younger man? So many and now here, he fully intended to find out just what knowledge had survived the veil being raised, and had even more been lost when it had been lowered again? Or had more simply been laid out upon a page instead? Only one way to find out and that meant he'd be here for quite a while. Oh well.
It was only as he was about to begin his search, that a book went flying, not into him thankfully but past his line of sight. The barest hint of a frown marring his features for a moment, such wisdom was not to be carelessly tossed about, and he wondered who was childish enough to do such a thing. In a place suited for study of all places. With a flick of his left wrist upwards, magic heeded his gentle command and a light breeze pulled the tome up from the floor and over into his waiting grasp. The title was not exactly what he was looking for, history of before the veil, of a time he knew very intimately but it was a good starting point to begin from. First he had to figure out what knowledge had been saved right after he had begun uthenera, the details would not be all here and he suspected had he the want to travel more, he could try to find the Vir Dirthara again if nothing came up here. But that would not help him now. Rather as his gaze turned from the tome in his hand to a figure moving nearby, he had to make the assumption that this was the one that had thrown it to begin with.
Elven certainly, but not of his people, though a mage if his aura were anything to go by and a frustrated one at that. At first he offered naught else by a raised brow to the other as he offered the book out of him, a silent judgement of sorts. Though if it would be taken seriously when he was dressed as a traveler and not one who resided here, he could not be certain. No harm in trying though.
I would suggest da'len, that if you wish to throw things around, you do so on items that are not public property that others may wish to use.
There were few things in life that Ruth felt some measure of comfort from. Books and the history of his people were two of those pillars which had kept him his sanity as a youngster. He’d have abandoned that hell sooner had he known how, been that little braver, but alas, hindsight was a spiral, and there had been enough of those in the past few days.
Heavily, hands found the pockets of his robes. With the weather changing, he had donned another layer or two out of necessity more than to reflect his style. Dark, gloomy and strikingly good looking. Still, they might have been further north, but Ruth could never keep the chill out, something left over from his sickly infant days. Perhaps it was that weak beginning that seeded the hatred rooted in his father’s heart? Ruth had long given up seeking the answer to a question he’d never likely voice. His father had never heard him once before, what would be different twenty years later?
As he rounded the desk and moved towards the hall Ruth’s mutterings distracted his attention. Once he’d glanced again to where the book had been, he frowned at discovering nothing but slab, and then a voice addressing him.
Be it his mood, or the fact he’d spent many years surrounded by everyone but Dalish, Ruth bristled some at the phrase. Tension rippled through him, only to be dispelled by an eventual sigh when his one blue eye found the book in the palm of another. The stranger’s words had him straightening, appraising the stranger who’d found his way into his quiet corner. A small smirked began tugging at one side, “Trust me, worse, more devious things, have been done, in countless places within this public property.”
Not that he’d know anything about that. Certainly not. And one shouldn’t ask the redheaded archivist about it either.
While he had added upon his usual travel attire a cloak to wander through the streets of Arlathan as the weather grew colder, he had not expected to need it inside as he did. Enchantments existed that could keep him warm and one such was laid within the fabric upon his shoulders. It had been a gift long ago, one of the few things he had taken from his place of waking that he wished to use, something to ensure his survival no matter the battlefield he walked onto. Honestly speaking, Revas was a tad surprised such magic held after the rise and fall of the veil, but he would not question the wisdom of those no longer living. The cloak itself the darkest of greens, bordering on black yet still granted him the chance to blend into the wilderness if need be, back when the countless wars had not laid waste to the land so much that there was nothing left but a flat expanse of earth and corpses strewn about. No need for such an item here truly, save the warmth it offered him now and more still once he ventured back out into the cooler air later.
As much as the cloak concealed his form, he had not brought any weaponry with him, it felt wrong to do so within the city and instead they had been safely warded out of sight elsewhere for him to collect before he left. Not that he could not call forth such items if need be, but this young elf hardly seemed the type to start attacking him. Though he could see the unease he had created in the boy's form, the line of tension there at being referred to one so young, yet to him he was. It was always ease to tell, for those he'd met thus far, those that were like him - elvhen of old - and those who were not. Their magic felt newer, more complex alongside the emotions they snapped between like a spell being cast, so quick to act.
Words told of devious acts being done within these walls, well that much was obvious. He was no blushing child and he was certain stories of such things from the time of elvhenan would make any child of this age blush. But he was not here to be petty about such matters, but to gather information and there was not much that could sway the elder from his goals. No matter the way this one looked at him, it went ignored as he stepped past the boy. Placing the discarded tome upon the table gently before he gave any sort of answer that the other may seek.
[color=#17b529]"Of that I do not doubt. But I was not speaking of others carelessness da'len, but of yours. Do be more careful in future."[/color]
It was a stare that was leveled down at the young elf, one that spoke of a warning before the warrior turned away and moved to head towards a new set of stacks. Perhaps those stored here would be better suited for his needs, something had to have been preserved by someone. If not by those he knew, but some of their kin who survived the first few centuries after the veil was raised. People had survived, else no one would be here now, it was simple a case of finding where best to look.
Hands remained stubbornly in his pockets, smirk broadening as Revas fixed him with a well earned, but completely familiar look. It was an all too common occurrence for Ruth. He had to chuckle a little at the attempt to admonish him, too, shrugging, “I’d argue my manhandling isn’t careless. It has quite the opposite effect really.” Flashing the other a wink before turning to collect his book. There was only one person who could manage such a feat, and she was off… where was she this time? Ruth brushed it aside. It was a thought for later now he had a visitor wandering around his little haven.
The tome back in his hands, Ruth flicked through the pages, keeping an eye on this new visitor to his peripheral. Curiosity would be his eventual downfall, that and professional pride. He’d reorganised this section from the raided mess he’d found it in. Even if he, too often, had raided other elvhen sites to add to it. Before the intrusions had been in aid of the Inquisition, against the creature Corypheus, now it was about returning everything to its rightful place. So much had been lost, fragmented and scattered after the fall. A lot had been stolen and raided by the victorious Chantry, their peoples treasures bought and bartered by other races all over.
It may not have been much but a piece, a book, journal at a time, but finding the answer to dealing with Elger-nan lay in their people’s past. And now an Ancient was perusing his efforts. Arms folded over his chest, the book nestling between as Ruth leaned against the stack.
“Anything specific, I can help you with? I didn’t exactly spend a month reorganising it into some order for nothing.”
He did not truly think it would have any affect, but that certainly did not stop him trying. Nor did it appear to deter the young man of his attempts at being more persuasive that went largely ignored by the elvhen. Perhaps others might be flattered, join in even, but he wasn't interested in such things. Never had been even as a young man himself, of course there were times in which words had been used to get what he needed. A task given and completed without raising a single weapon, deception was sometimes needed when seeking out bits of information, but that was no longer the case. With Mythal no more for so long now, he served no one. It hadn't even truly been service after she'd fell, his help readily offered and now he was free to do as he wished. Even if he really should return to that familiar fortress rather soon. Still it could be put off for another week or two, until he gathered what knowledge he could about the current situation for his people and perhaps even to aid those who had yet to awaken.
Hazel eyes worked back and forth across the shelves quickly, title upon title passing him by, many of which he had already read long ago. Knowledge already known that he had witnessed before, those some bits were rarer then others, he would have time to indulge his own curiosities at a later date. What he sought out was not here, as he soon found, most of such tomes were after the fall certainly. Very few remained from prior, but they were repeats of knowledge that had been lost. Likely placed there by the handful of generations that came after his people, those that still vaguely remembered but had begun to lost their immortality. It was with a frown that he began to turn away, when something caught his eye as he heard that same voice speak up again. Not a book, but something born of magic and rather familiar.
A friend who truly might be able to help.
[color=#008e02]"There is nothing you can do no, but that spirit within you certainly might. Hello falon, it has been a long time."[/color]
While his tone was kept calm, conversational, it changed slightly as he greeted the spirit. Like one would an old friend, that such had survived even the fall and lived to today was something special and it meant they were far more likely to have seen something while helping others, then any record of a book here might provide him. A warmth shared almost, a familiarity with his own sense of being that could not be denied. He may have taken a body so long ago, but he still at times felt more like a wandering spirit then anything else.
Ruth’s smirk only widened with the lack of reaction. The stranger might try to brush off his crassness and display of complete self-confidence in his abilities, but the healer wouldn’t be so easily deterred. Not when they were in his workspace, a place he considered sacred. Furthering the mind wasn’t possible with nattering idiots and scholars fighting over bias conclusions and secondhand accounts when the written word was right there. His years with the Inquisition only cemented the fact that he was a better researcher alone, than hampered by half-wits. Solas, granted, was one of the better ones, but Ruth had long suspected he’d known more. He’d still been taken aback by the man’s true identity though.
He was quickly beginning to realise that his most comforting interest had all too real and living people from that time waking up and causing havoc. Perfect. People. Where motivations and agenda’s played parts, deception and exaggeration, others. Only the Stoner didn’t lie to him, or when she did it was wholly obvious and dripping with sarcasm. He grinned while shadowing his visitor. The shard had one major improvement on the she-elf, her nerves had steadied, confidence in her own standing matured under the souls guidance. Not that he’d ever admit it to her face.
The answer to his question had Ruth’s back straightening with a mounting tension. His eye blinked, excuse me, deliberately until an unfamiliar yet comforting presence rippled at the edge of his senses and out his own mouth.
[color=#cccccc]Revas. It has been many… many years. Do not mind Rut’theran, his past has hardened him, but he is a gentle one. [/color]
“...Um… what the fuck?”
You never talk to me and now all of a sudden, you're all chummy with the new man? what the hell?
Thus far he had found little of use, either here nor anywhere else in his travels. Revas had not dared stepped into any 'elvhen ruins' as he'd heard some calling them, the spirits that may linger there and their fury towards someone like him, not to mention what he might find. He couldn't do so, not yet, he could find knowledge elsewhere until he was ready to venture into such places and see what was left. To witness first hand what remained of what he had willingly helped to unintentionally destroy. Nevertheless, he knew there would be damage when he had helped with the spell, but seeing it was another matter entirely. If he truly was awake and had been for some time, he could only hope such were true, then he could only wonder as to the grief of seeing such things alone. After all, he had woken alone and he suspected many of his people had as well. Very few had been placed together when sleeping. Hands curling into fists at his sides, body pulled taught for a moment before he relaxed, and banished such thoughts away. Thinking on 'what-ifs' right now would only drown him in despair, he could not allow that until he knew for certain.
Of course, catching the sight and magic pulled close of someone so familiar had him feeling at least marginally better. If Compassion had survived so long, how many others from so long ago had? Questions like a twisting void, he would find his answers in due time. Hope like a sparked flame after all he had seen in these past six months, was a welcome warmth indeed. Though now rather then ignore the boy, he watched with something close to curiosity, that flicker of bewilderment before his friend took over. A small smile upon his lips as he listened to the familiar, softly musical tone that greeted him. Rut'theran huh? An interesting way to name someone so young, but he would not begrudge them their ways. He wondered how strange it must feel, to be bound in such a way to a child so young.
[color=#008e02]"I suppose there must be a part of him that is, if you are with him falon. Do you know if there are others? I had not dared to hope that you would survive nor anyone else truly. I wish to see how many remain, how many might wake and if I can help them. Even if he is not here, I wish to do right by our people."[/color]
Such words were soft and swift, as he shifted out of the common tongue and into his native speech pattern, he did not need to tell the boy of why he was here. Even if he suspected Compassion may translate parts of it, his own goals were to be quietly shared. Just like his pain, he kept them hidden often, it was easier that way to go about his life without being bothered by others. Of course, hearing such confusion from the other, he couldn't help but chuckle in amusement. Clearly it was not something his friend often did, kind of them as always. Still it was hardly fair to leave Ruth floundering as to what in the void was going on, as funny as it might be.
[color=#008e02]"If you give me a moment to get the information I need from Compassion, I shall explain how we know one another, if that will stop you being rather indignant about it da'len."[/color]
[color=#cccccc]Ruth is many things. Kind being one of his qualities when his mouth is not getting in his way. But, yes. There are others. We have not crossed paths with them however, their traces are distant, faint. Some are in hiding, like Sylaise. [/color]
“Hey,” Ruth snapped, talking to himself, “Shit about that is sensitive. She’s around, what’s that to you, Gramps?” Now he was suspicious and annoyed. Frustrated that the spirit would just hijack him to converse and irritated that information relating to a friend was so easily handed over. “Gods. Is there not a concept of bro’s before hoes in your ancient head?” His head shook, arms folding over.
Ruth frowned. “Apparently they want to speak, regardless if I like it or not. Also, if you keep calling me a child I’m going to start thinking this is a jab at my height. And that’s just rude.” Then without missing a beat. “I have far more inches in me.” Snickering, Ruth rolled his eyes, playing up Revas’ comment about being indignant. To go against the grain was rooted in him, the defiance related to people and actions long past that had only recently knocked on his residence with sobering consequences.
He needed a drink, cursing himself for not bringing the bottle along. He was entirely too sober to be dealing with this bullshit this early.
[color=#cccccc]Ruth is distrustful of most. It is something he needs to work on. The spirit paused a moment and sighed. This will be over quickly Ruth, patience. Then you may have your body returned to you. [/color]
Listening to his dear friends view on the young man, granted the elvhen a rather interesting insight into the boy that perhaps he would never want nor willingly share on his own. As evidenced by the obvious and growing frustration the more he conversed with Compassion, not that he could entirely blame the young elven for such emotion, his own body was being used against him after all and he had learnt all too recently how annoying that could be for everyone else involved. Listening to June chuckle about it even as the thought passed through his mind, didn't help either. In fact it only made the other snapping at him even worse. Just what had he gotten himself into with this one?
[color=#008e02]"It is a relief to hear there are others falon, even if they are faint to you. Though Syalise is but a fragment of what she should be, I have spoken with her already, that she hides is a smart choice. Are there many spirits such as you within Arlathan, I have seen so few willing to converse with me, it has been a shame."[/color]
Knowledge used to be easily gained when it could not be found in a tome simply by being polite and asking questions of the spirits that wandered so freely wherever he went so long ago, now it seemed it was taking a little longer for everything to fall into place. Likely due to the state of the world and perhaps the suddenness with which the Veil had been brought down? He could not be sure on that. Yet again, he heard Ruth speaking and inevitably trying to get a rise out of him to no effect, had he the care to do so he might have even rolled his eyes at the boy. Instead he merely answered his previous insistence, given it seemed to agitate him so.
[color=#008e02]"I do not believe I need to explain my relationship with Sylaise to you, if it helps ease your mind any, I have already met her and the one that holds her consciousness and I do not intend to do anything to them. Only help should they ask."[/color] A reassurance given, even if it was not believed, in truth if Sylaise wished for his aid in due time then he would do as much as he could to assist her. Nevermind the fact that June would likely not allow him to refuse granting whatever she may seek. As a friend, one of the few he had found still living, he would not cast her aside carelessly.
[color=#008e02]"So I have noticed, I will not take much more of your time ma falon. I know you said such traces are faint, but do you know if there is any word of Fen'harel? I have not dared to look but I.."[/color] Words he did not finish, did not need to, he suspected Compassion might already feel more than enough of his pain on the matter to know what he was speaking of. Of the doubt, of the concern for the one he had insisted sleep, and of the countless unanswered questions he had.
For all his faults, Ruth wasn’t a bad person. He just let his less than acceptable habits and impulses win more often than sense. While he would never admit it, people frightened him, especially those who wanted more than just the fun, rowdy Ruth. Those that wanted to get to know him, the real elf beneath all the bravado and witty remarks. Megara was someone he’d known for decades, had pulled him out of some tight spots and admittedly put up with more than her fair share of his antics. He owed her, and he hated being indebted to someone. Especially the Stoner.
[color=#cccccc]Sylaise is as she was, in part. This piece embodies the best parts of her essence. She has greatly eased the pain of Rut’theran’s friend and many since awakening. Others have chosen to slumber still, or remain as I have, quiet observers. We aid if called, or choose to. Those who have not found balance are seeking aid or solitude, the rest I cannot say. [/color]
While he was slightly reassured that no harm would come to Meg, Ruth’s eyes still narrowed fractionally. “Yeah. Ok.” And after a sigh, he followed it up with a chuckle. “Be prepared then, she likes to help out a lot, so I’d get used to seeing her pipe-tooting, chirpy and chatty self.” Gods she could whitter for an age if something caught her up in a tizz. ”Meg, I mean. Sylaise not so much.” If he thought about it, the Soul was the one responsible for his retention of his testicals so… there was that. Meg was still mad so he’d avoided the house of late.
He didn’t need anything translated when Revas mentioned ‘Harel though. “You mean baldy?... Solas.” He couldn’t help the scoff, rolling his eyes for good measure. “Skyhold. Last I heard anyway.” He’d not been back there since the Inquisition disbanded. Too many bad memories and a bitter taste left in his mouth hadn’t made it a desirable place to revisit.
“Anything else?” His eye shifted upwards, partly to Revas, but mostly to the spirit itself. Silence. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’m have a bottle of liquor to neck.”
It was not hard to see the kind of person Ruth truly was, even without his dear friend explaining it in frankly the kindest way possible, such a person was simply a frustration when he still sought out critical answers about the world around him. But he could not blame one so young for acting in such a way, everyone had secrets, things they wanted to hide, masks to be worn and this was no different. He was not going to change his tone or raise his voice to the boy, when all he seemed to want from him was a negative reaction. Plenty he was sure could provide that, but his focus over the past few weeks had been singular in gaining more knowledge and he would not be swayed from that just yet.
[color=#008e02]"Ma serannas, falon. It is far more than I have learnt in these past few months from other spirits and it explains a great deal as to why I have seen so few on my travels even far from Arlathan, though this place is not how I remember it. I suppose it cannot be anymore. I will endure."[/color]
A flicker of sadness, yet a faint smile nonetheless, speaking with one he called friend had eased his mind somewhat. If there was little to be found here, it meant more was left, places of his home yet to be restored as they should be before the Veil had been raised. He wondered what had survived and for that, he would have to start investigating the paths between the eluvians that were active. But that was for another day, another time, for now he'd find better use of mapping this city and what had changed. If such a place were to be attacked by Elgar'nan, he'd need to know how to get in and out quietly, and so that is where he moved. Tomes not of untold legends picked up, but now of maps, both the oldest and the newest they had that the elvhen began to look through. What wasn't here, he could explore on foot tonight.
The mutterings from Ruth were such that he was only half paying attention, a humming here and there to show he did understand, but that his gaze was focused elsewhere. Though when he spoke to ask of that wolf, he did at least do the polite thing of looking back before asking only then turning away, best not to let either of them see his expressions when speaking of him. What caught his attention was how the young elf referred to him, a new name for the people of this time to know him by perhaps? But why Pride, of all things? He could be so certainly, but to name himself as such seemed somewhat out of place, perhaps in due time he could ask why.
[color=#008e02]"Thank you for confirming what I have already heard about him Ruth, it is very helpful,"[/color] For once it was meant with complete sincerity, Sylaise had said the same, though in a far softer manner as was her way. But two stating the same thing could not be wrong, which meant he had perhaps been a fool in leaving without disturbing the wards the wolf had made. Troubles to think on later. A shake of his head at the question that followed and a small smile offered to Compassion before he could feel such a presence fade more into the background, far more mixed in with the younger's own magic most likely. [color=#008e02]"Do as you wish, I will likely be here for some time."[/color] He had a lot to understand about this city, and most importantly was what had changed since he had slept.
Sylaise, Meg, Baldy, just who the hell was this man? It didn’t sit well with Ruth, agitated by concern for his friend first and foremost. It meant he’d have to go home, back to her house and face her frustration and ask her about the new ancient stalking her. Well, Sylaise, not her, but it didn’t make the twisted nauseated feeling in his stomach go away.
Yet he was remaining in Ruth’s sacred section, so he could be observed for a time. With a bow that teetered on the edge of mocking and polite, Ruth took the Revas’ thanks. The spirit accompanying him rarely interacted on such a level and rightly he was left a little reeling from it.
“I do. Regularly. Happy hunting.” His hand waved, before both hands returned to his pockets and Ruth slumped back into his chair at the desk. In between swigs of his whisky and passages, he’d keep an eye on the visitor, meanwhile attempting not to let his curiosity get the better of him. Be it the lack of sleep combined with the alcohol or just the alcohol, the elf would fall asleep, a stack of books hiding him from view. The scribbled findings jotted in his journal coming to a hard line as unconsciousness took him.
