A/N: Yes, it's that time again! Astray will be regularly updated here, on AO3, and on Tumblr. Right now, the tentative update schedule should be one - two times a week. Finals are coming up, so I might be a bit delayed sometimes, but the wait shouldn't be more than a few days.

Thank you to everyone who has read this story, favorited, alerted, and reviewed it. Your support means a lot and helps inspire me to work harder and update faster :) I hope you guys like this installment! It was originally going to be one chapter, but I've split it into two for better flow. I'm still editing the second segment and hoping to have it completed soon.

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Astray

Chapter 2

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Solas.

There he stands, alone upon a cliff side.

There he stands, so near that I can feel the tingle of his magic.

Alone again.

So close that I can almost touch him.

I just have to reach out, just a little, and I could snag the edge of his robes. But, something stops me. Something glues my arms to my sides. I hesitate, like a dove about to leave the nest for her first flight. I hover on the precipice, a thousand different doubts and fears spinning through my core with the force of a hurricane. I'm lost. Confused. I don't understand my own trepidations. What am I waiting for? Why am I stopping?

This is Solas.

This is the one I've been searching for all this time.

Countless nights have passed me by while I wondered where he was. Countless mornings, I've awakened and felt the frigid sheets beside me, wishing he was there to warm them. I've walked the halls of Skyhold, listening to the reverberations of my steps and aching as I passed his murals on the walls. I sought answers there. I sought answers everywhere. Any explanation would have been better than none. How many hours have I spent in the throes of regret, wishing for things that could never come to pass?

Countless.

Endless.

So why am I hesitating?

Because, instinct answers me. Something...everything...is different now…

That's right.

This is the Dream.

This is the Fade.

This isn't real.

I force myself to pay attention, trying to capture every detail and brand it into my memory. This Dream is the biggest reason that I left Skyhold with the stone. Something about this vision is important. Something about this is crucial to my fate. So, I let go of my emotions. Or, I try to. I let go of as much as I can. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and force myself to concentrate.

In this vision, Solas wears clothing that I've never seen before - robes that at once speak of a life full of hardship and also accent how far away he is from the man that I once knew. Solas of the Inquisition would never have worn such rags. He loved the feel of fur and natural materials; he adored their connection to nature. He put thought into the creation of his armor. In him, practicality met beauty. He was a simple man, never given to frivolity or unnecessary flair, but he was a man with taste. In his simplicity lay an undeniable grace and nobility - characteristics which are all absent now.

The robes that hang on his thin frame look time-worn and dirty. The hem is riddled with holes, strings hanging loose to drag in the snow. The metal of the armor that covers his shoulders is cheap and brittle, reminding me of the junk we sometimes found on our excursions into old ruins. The staff in his hand is fashioned from an aging tree branch, gnarled and grizzled like old man's fingers. It isn't augmented for combat, nor is it crafted with any particular skill.

My eyes slide upwards.

His shoulders are broader than I remember; his stance more rigid and tense. There's a new burden on those shoulders – a solitude that haunts him like a relentless specter. And regret, too. It's so familiar to me that I swear that I can almost smell it permeating the air around us like a poison fume. My thoughts wander. If I could go back to that day when Corypheus fell, if I could break the flow of time and re-enter it right before I turned away from Solas for the last time...oh, the things I would change. I would never turn away. I wouldn't let him touch that broken orb. I would have tried harder to save it.

I might even go back farther in time.

I might try to stop myself from loving him so much.

Impossible, my inner self insists. Impossible desires...impossible wishes...all you have is what stands before you now... As I finally surpass my own concerns and reach out to him, I see his hand clench into a fist. From it, dangles a frayed cord with an animal's jawbone hanging on the end. That, at least, hasn't changed at all.

"Solas," I whisper, terrified that he will disappear at any moment. My emotions are breaking through my resolve to focus.

"Solas…" He doesn't answer me; he never does. I've seen this Dream a hundred times, yet still I'm not immune to the pain that it inflicts.

"Solas," I call again, more loudly this time. He shakes his head, giving a sign that he hears me. Hears, but refuses to acknowledge.

"Please, don't shut me out. I know what's going to happen," I tell him. "I know, and I don't care." Words spill from my mouth, their syllables full of a hurt that runs deeper than the thickest of skins. I know I'm rambling, but it doesn't matter. I just want something to change this time.

"Wherever you are, you are alone, and the thought is killing me. I don't even care why you left. It doesn't matter what your reasons were. I told you once that I would never give up, and I meant it."

When he turns around, it isn't a gentle blue gaze that greets me but bottomless red pools. Slitted pupils pierce through my skin and see beyond, down into the very core of my being. A black shadow surrounds him, distorting his features into a gruesome mask of angles and ridges. There is no sign – not even a hint – of the man I knew before. His warmth is gone. His gentle nature has been twisted. All I see in those eyes is purpose – a sort of determination that is as ruthless as the snapping jaws of a ravenous beast.

He looks through me. Doesn't see me. All those eyes reflect is prey. Fresh meat. A new victim. A sacrifice, perhaps. From a distance, I hear the murmurs of the Well of Sorrows. They tell me that this isn't something to be feared. They tell me that I should be honored to be sacrificed. Magic is magic. Just as water is water. Blood magic isn't inherently evil. It all depends on intent. But, when I try to make out the name of he who would use my blood, the murmurs become a string of blurred syllables.

And all the while, Solas doesn't say a word. Is this even Solas anymore? If I ever stand before him again - not in the Fade, but in reality - is this what I will find? A gust of wind picks up around us, blowing my hair into my face and ripping the jawbone necklace from his fingers. He lets go, and it disappears into the void. The last piece of the Solas that I knew.

"It's alright," I assure him, raising my arms in supplication. "Come. Do what you will with me. I will accept all of who you are. I won't let you die alone."

In the next instant, he lunges forward. The shadow wraps around my arms and legs, holding me still and binding me. All traces of Solas's outer shell fade away. He transforms into a massive black creature with six crimson eyes and saliva coated fangs. I told myself that I wouldn't be afraid, but I am. My body shakes. Cold sweat coats my skin in a heavy film and icy talons of terror claw at my lungs. For a split second, I almost say something, but the words quaver and cower behind my teeth just as my tongue prepares to shape them.

The truth is within all those who belong to Mythal…a voice echoes all around me. This is unexpected. I've never heard these words before. In the Dream, I am always alone, facing the darkness without any hope of victory. The truth? What does that mean? I don't have time to wonder, for as soon as the echo of those words fades into oblivion, I feel the beast's fangs break through my ribs and crush my heart.

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When I next open my eyes, the creature is nowhere in sight.

The sky looms above me – dark, grey, and imposing. For a time, I try to remember how I got here. My memory is a tangle of vines and nettles. The first thing I recall is my fall from the ledge. Then, everything comes back in a tidal wave: the cliff, the dragon, the Red Templars, the river. That's how I lost the stone. I broke my leg. I ran through the forest. Then, Abelas found me and took my salvation from me while I was helpless. Moments after this realization, I mourn the loss of the stone and its siren's song. I yearn for it as I've seen so many Templars yearn for Lyrium.

Not now.

That's right.

I mustn't linger here.

I roll onto my side and push up with my arms, forcing my half-frozen body into a sitting position. I can't fathom how Abelas found me or why he was so desperate to take the stone away. I was so careful to stay hidden since the moment that I left Skyhold. My biggest concern was always running into other members of the Inquisition. Our force had grown so large and our influence so great that even the most remote of villages in the middle of nowhere knew who I was. For that reason, I avoided all civilization for weeks and always took time to hide my tracks. I even went whole nights without a fire at times to avoid the risk of being seen. I hunted my own food. I crafted my own crude supplies. I didn't even speak to passerby and kept a hood on at all times.

So how did Abelas find me? Had he teamed up with the Inquisition? Was he using their resources to hunt me down? That seemed unlikely, knowing his personality and his wary nature. Even if the Inquisition had come to him first - which was unlikely too - he would have turned down their request for assistance. I cringe. Just imagining Abelas willingly allying himself with a group of shems feels wrong.

No. Teaming up is a ridiculous notion.

Abelas is working alone, which means one of two things: either he knows exactly what that stone is and what it can do, or he only has an inkling and is assuming the worst. Truthfully, I can't blame him for either. Even from my biased vantage point, I can see that the line of actions and decisions that had brought me here wasn't the most sound or the most rational. If anything, Abelas is right and I'd been led astray, though not for the reasons he believes.

I gingerly move my head to examine my surroundings. The valley around me is covered in a blanket of snow, as are my clothes. In this cold, they've dried into a crusty mass that crinkles and snaps as I move about. The wound on my leg is mostly healed. Someone - likely Abelas himself - has sown the torn sinew together, set my bone, and wrapped a shred of material around my thigh to staunch the bleeding. Why, though?

If Abelas was after the stone, he didn't need to keep me alive after retrieving it. And if he knows anything at all about the truth behind my journey, then healing me was an act of cruelty, not compassion. Without the stone, I'm doomed. For now, I can still think clearly, but soon - very soon - my mind will break beneath a tide of voices. It will be as it was all those weeks ago, when I locked myself in my study and hoped that nobody would see me in my pathetic state. Things had been going so well that I'd nearly forgotten how horrible those nights were. Or how easy it would be to go back to them.

The stone is my only hope...

After rubbing at my temples to soothe the ache there, my eyes narrow on a spot of warmth beside me. The remains of a small fire. Something is odd about it. I note the strange shape of the ashes. Square and thin; brown in the places that haven't burned up. A moment as my mind catches up with reality. Small. Brown. Thin. Like parchment. Not wood, but paper. When I realize what I'm looking at, my heart clenches and shudders. I look around for the pack I rescued from my scramble in the river, hoping I'm wrong, but…

The pack is gone, along with all of my notes and research.

No. Not gone.

Incinerated.

Abelas…may the Dread Wolf take you for this treachery…may he rip you apart until the end of time!

Reality slaps me in the face without warning or mercy. I rush to my knees, scrambling over to the fire. My mind still shrieking in denial, I throw snow over the glowing embers and paw through the ashes, finding only scraps of things that I'd spent weeks writing. Nothing but a few fragments of paper have survived. A corner of a page catches my eye, and when I turn it over, I see an eye staring at me between smudges of dirt and charcoal. The flames have devoured half of the subject's face, but the blue inks I used to paint the color of his eyes somehow endured. My fingers tremble as they brush debris away from the page, revealing a small part of a sketch I'd drawn years ago.

Solas stares back at me from the drawing, his face serene and his expression unguarded. In his hand, he holds a book. Though the rest has been taken by flame, the image is a memory that I will never be able to forget. This was the last time I saw that expression on his face, the last time he smiled at me and whispered…

…my heart…

Recalling the endearment brings the sweetest pain. It's a noose that wraps around my neck and steals my breath. It's a venom that sets my blood aflame. Each time I recall it, I lose a little more of myself. But, I can't help it. I never could. Though I always felt that our feelings for each other would never survive the war for one reason or another, I still couldn't help loving him. One lone tear squeezes over a crease at the corner of my eye, gliding down my cheek and stopping there. The wind hisses over it, freezing it in place.

I want you to know that what we had was real…

Creators. I haven't heard his voice in so long. With the stone around my neck, I could hardly hear anything but the constant vibrations of magic and its temptations. I was driven and focused; I could set aside my emotions and concentrate. Now, though…now the cracks of my heart grind together, snagging on the edges, throbbing and festering. I realize the full depths of the abyss around me; I recognize how alone I am. If I call out, my voice will echo for eternity. If I curl up and never move again, nobody will find me. It's a precursor to the insanity soon to come.

Another gust of wind tugs at the ruined parchment in my hand as if to say let go, but I hold fast, clinging to the memory and a last shred of hope. I know. I know full well that I'll probably never find him. Even if I do, he will not look at me this way again. He will run, or he will do as the Dream has shown me and become my enemy.

But, I can't accept it.

I can't.

So what now?

I've lost the stone, and with it, all possibility of success.

Not true.

I must find it again. That is the only acceptable solution. I must find Abelas and take back what rightfully belongs to me.

Get up – I command my body. Get up.

Through pain and discomfort, my limbs obey. I use my anger as a crutch, more tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. Though my leg is no longer broken, I can barely move it without wanting to scream. The bone is brittle and will need time to heal. A luxury that I don't have. I must find Abelas. I must take back the stone.

If I don't…

...no, I don't even want to consider it.