The Complete Guide to the Dalish Vallaslin (and Their Potential Meanings)

Cole: She is bare-faced, embarrassed, and she doesn't know. She thinks it's because of her.

Face paint? Or hidden secrets? Wait and see...

We see them so often... but what do the Dalish vallaslin designs represent? 

First off, let me state: I think or suspect Solas is being deliberately simplistic in the big "vallaslin scene" at Crestwood (also known as The Worst Date Ever). Probably deliberately so. He loves games, after all.

Like: Yes, I think he's telling the truth. The vallaslins became slave markings. But were they always? 

Evidence suggests not. Codices and other references, to me, seem to imply that the vallaslins may have started as markings of simple allegiance, of tribute. Which to me makes the idea of the vallaslins of Solas, Abelas, Ameridan, etc., a lot more believable. And which, to me, also ties with Legion of the Dead markings. I think they are linked: visibly. And ethically. Elves came first. But I also think those dwarven markings were, well, slave markings. DAMMIT ELVES.

And as far as Solas, if we buy his scenario, it's pretty clearly canon (per Cole) that he had and then removed Mythal's vallaslin for love and later for ethical reasons. Which again fits Solas.

But let's go further.

Are there secrets to be found in their images and icons? I've always wondered if they were simply beautiful abstractions or whether each vallaslin meant something else, tying the image to the god or goddess it represented.

Me? I vote yes... there are secrets to be found there.

I definitely think we can see real images and symbolism in the beautiful lines of the vallaslin that correspond to the personalities and aspects of the Dalish pantheon. Here we go! 

Mythal

Mythal's alternate (cheek-wings)

Mythal's vallaslin is a beautiful flowing of interlocking roots or veins that in the simplified versions either flower across the forehead alone or curve up each cheek like wings.  The simplified "wings under the eyes" Mythal vallaslin is probably most famous among the fandom as that of incredibly talented fan artist Nipuni's "Solavellan" Lavellan character, Nalia.

Mythal combined

In the complex version, it flowers up like a tree from the nose across the forehead, with the "wings" connected and gracefully circling back around and beneath each eye. There's also a separate pattern on the chin that is almost a smaller, mirrored reflection of the forehead piece (and if you look closely, the two may actually be linked in canon, down across the nose, through the lips, and straight down into the chin piece. The most obvious interpretation of the chin aspect is of roots for the "tree" of the forehead. I also want to update this post to note the lovely observation by Tee on Twitter that this beautiful branching vallaslin also obviously echoes the description of Mythal's grimoire, which features "a leafless tree" on its cover. Thanks, Tee!

However, to me, if you look closely at Mythal's vallaslin, it's not just roots or branches, but an actual, highly stylized dragon, with the pointed head over the wearer's nose, and with the wings enveloping the eyes.

In which case, is the chin pattern... the fire breathed by the dragon? Maybe.

Most important of all, though, is (I feel) the idea of roots, of tendrils, of growing things. Mythal is not about abomination or tyranny but about growth, life.

Elgar'nan Version 1

Elgar'nan

Elgar'nan's vallaslin variations are both interesting. The first is a bold, spiky interlocking series of branches almost like thorns that cover most of the face from chin to forehead.

The more complex version includes this same, heavily graphical and thorny branch configuration, but then adds a deep, dark tattoo covering half of the face vertically, with the 'thorns' pattern reversed (uninked).

Elgar'nan Alternate

To me, this is a clear visualization of darkness and light both literally (Elgar'nan was created out of the moment the sun hit the land), as well as figuratively (Elgar'nan was also violent and vengeful). 

There is even the slightest visual hint of forked lightning (another thing associated with Elgar'nan) as well here.

Falon'Din Version 1

Falon'Din

As the God of the Dead, and one I've surmised may be an actual spiritual entity rather than a physical twin to Dirthamen, this vallaslin is interesting and suggestive.
It's very clearly a tree (it almost looks like one of Fillory's clock-trees from Lev Grossman's The Magicians series), which to me is a clear evocation of the vallasdahlen, the life-trees planted by the Dalish on the graves of those who die.

Falon'Din 2 (complex)

I also think there's a potential owl-shape in there on the forehead as well, in the very center of the tree, along with a hidden figure-eight symbol within the forehead-tree that may symbolize both eternity/infinity or The Fade, since circles in elven graphics seem to reference the Fade or Beyond. This could be significant since, as I've noted elsewhere, it's very possible Falon'Din was born a spirit, not a fleshly being (which would also explain his ability to travel to and from the farthest reaches of the Fade with ease). And speaking of the Fade, that circle with the dot at its center is undoubtedly an image of the Fade, just as a similar circle and dot represented the Fade on Solas's fresco on The Siege of Adamant.

The central clock-tree element also strangely reminds me, just a little, of part of Solas's mural -- this time, the one that occurs after the Temple of Mythal. The rather spiky, stylized figure there is meant to represent Abelas. The "tree" here could almost be a similarly spiky figure, arms outstretched. Or perhaps I am again looking far too closely!

Meanwhile, the alternate Falon'Din vallaslin features those tendrils that reach toward the eyes, cheeks, neck, hairline, and around the eyes. Symbolizing the inexorability of death? Or of dreams?

Dirthamen Vallaslin

Dirthamen

As the Keeper of Secrets and Master of Ravens, as well as the god of Knowledge, Dirthamen's is fascinating because it's one of the easiest to parse -- the forehead graphic is fairly obviously a very stylized raven  in flight (Dirthamen famously had two ravens that he mastered, Fear and Deceit).

If you look closely, you can see the head and "beak" of the raven stretches down across the nose, with the wings arched back in flight on the forehead. Or... if you interpret differently, are the "wings" arched back on the cheeks? I do think either way, that this is a bird in flight.

And look at all the downward-facing triangles!

Are the triangles symbolic of secrets? Is that what all the countless downward-triangles may signify on the many frescoes we witness across Dragon Age: Inquisition and "Trespasser" (and now, in the new #TheDreadWolfRises teaser)?

Andruil

Andruil Version 2

I love Andruil's and it's so easy to figure out too, since it's a big, honking, giant bow right in the middle of the wearer's face with the readied arrow pointing up. 

Andruil Version 1

Yet. The more complex version of Andruil's vallaslin, with its branching, flowing lines, could actually also reference the Vir Tanadhal, the Way of Three Trees.

Andruil Mosaic

And those flowing 'rays' meanwhile that we see emitting from the bow in the complex version to the left -- I think these are another representation of the squiggly lines or "rays" we previously witnessed on Andruil's mosaic in the Temple of Mythal.

As for me, I think they may symbolize instability, insanity... or Blight.

Sylaise version 2

Sylaise

As the provider of fire, rope, and herbs among her gifts, Sylaise's beautiful simplified vallaslin looks to me like the curling smoke from a flame, which would be fitting since she brought fire to the people. 

The intertwining curls could also be a subtle reference to a graceful growing herb, as well—appropriate to her identity as a kind of spring or fertile goddess figure.

Sylaise version 1

The more complex version, meanwhile, turns these curves into a few very clear yet intertwining ropes or vines, some of which actively appear to be budding or flowering. These "vines" are leafier than those of the other gods, and are also multiple shades from light to dark. There's also something almost "dragonlike" about the vines at the top of the forehead, but I could be reading too much into things there (I usually do!).

June

First off, this one's notable as it's one of the only ones to go all the way down the neck of the wearer. To me, it's stylistically very evocative of the Legion of the Dead tattoos among the dwarven people -- could this be a hidden clue to add to that growing list that the lives of dwarves and elves in ancient times were intertwined? 

June Version 1

After all, June is the god of crafts and weapons (I'm picturing a very Hephaestos-like figure)... both beloved of the dwarves (especially those "fine dwarven crafts... direct from Orzammar!"). Even his mosaic in the Temple of Mythal includes a huge anvil glowing right before his figure. And yet it's also implied he didn't just craft weapons... remember the Anvil of the Void questline with Caridin in Dragon Age: Origins? What if June's was something similar -- but far more powerful? What if he actually forged... people, like Caridin? The dwarves themselves?

June Version 2

The rest of June's design could be seen as being a skeletal tree with roots, but to me the entire shape and the repeated curving lines at the forehead are reminiscent of armor, and specifically, of a faceplate. I love how the interlaced lines across the forehead actually evoke the lines of an armored visor.

And the strong vein that runs down the neck isn't plantlike to me, so much as veiny or blood-like. To me, it may represent heart's-blood. Or, the blood of the stone... lyrium?

Ghilan'ain Vallaslin

Ghilan'nain

Here we find one of my favorite vallaslins, the lyrical and stylized, flowing diadem that is a gorgeous abstraction of a halla head and its branching, flowing horns.

It's a very pretty and delicate vallaslin, and it's usually my favorite for my Lavellan Inquisitors. I used to choose it because I loved the look of it, and I felt that Ghilan'nain was among the gentler of the Dalish gods.

Of course, after heavy research on my part, I'm not entirely sure this is true. But I was so much younger then, a sweet summer child who had no idea that I'd eventually be one of those people who uses elven swear words or who is still microanalyzing everyone's dialogue for clues.

But that's Dragon Age for you! Meanwhile... what do YOU think the vallaslin symbolize? What have I missed?

Meet the Evanuris: The Mysteries of Mythal the Great Protector

One symbol is associated with Mythal above all others: that 
of the dragon itself.

FLEMETH: I nudge history, when it's required. Other times, a shove is needed.

MERRILL: It's never wise to ignore Mythal.

SPOILERS as always, for all of Dragon Age!

I've recently been taking a closer look at the Evanuris, both in the accepted mythology of the Dalish, as well as in the more potentially realistic (and disturbing) revelations of Dragon Age: Inquisition and its DLC "Trespasser."

For me, any discussion or analysis of the Evanuris must begin with Mythal, whose very symbol—the dragon—is a source of fear and wonder, and which stands for the age in which most of our story now takes place.

The Dalish Myth

The benevolent protector of the elves who was born of the sea (the tears of the wounded Earth), Mythal, the All-Mother and Great Protector, was seen by the Dalish as the mother of the gods, the dispenser of justice and love, and the partner of Elgar'nan. Mythal brought peace, and saw into hearts and minds in order to dispense true justice, sorting the wheat from the chaff, the true from the false.

Although Elgar'nan defeated the Sun (his father), Mythal persuaded him to allow it to return, and created the Moon (that most feminine of celestial objects) to reflect his light.

What's interesting is that even though Elgar'nan is the nominal leader of the Evanuris, he's by all accounts, even in myth, pretty terrible at it. He starts out as judge, but this quickly becomes a disaster as his inability to control his temper means that he is incapable of rendering calm, cool justice. All his reactions seem to start at rage (I keep picturing Elgar'nan 'hulking' out on a constant basis). Eventually, it appears to me that even among the Dalish myths, Elgar'nan quickly passed the mantle of actual rulership to his mate, Mythal. I mean, he was still the ruler in name, he just didn't seem to want to do the work.

With Mythal, the people could call for justice, she would listen and judge, seeing into hearts and minds, and only then would she take her judgments to Elgar'nan—which he would then dispense according to her verdicts. Until it all went wrong, and she ended either in death or imprisonment.

Among the Dalish, Mythal is assumed to have been either killed by Fen'Harel or exiled with the others due to his treachery.

As the archetypical mother-goddess, Mythal is inherently
associated with powerful symbols of the feminine divine.

The Facts


Evidently, the myths were true in their deepest sense: Among her fierce companions in the Evanuris, Mythal was evidently the kindest and most just, the one offering protection to her people and who constantly attempted to make and keep the peace among her arrogant and constantly warring companions.

Mythal's most famous achievements were almost always those of peacekeeping. She averted a war between Falon'Din and Elgar'nan at one point, and also brought down Falon'Din (with the rest of the gods behind her) when he began to pursue war simply for even more blood and death in which to revel. Mythal also defeated Andruil after her disastrous trip to the Void (a moment that may have had lasting effects upon all of Thedas, possibly bringing the Blight) and is even reported to have defeated at least a Titan or two, although the information we get on that is both sketchy and decidedly hazy.

Mythal and the Titans

When it comes to Mythal's deeds in the very deeps of the world, I'm interested in her ties to the Titans because I feel like there's something very obviously changed or missing there. Mythal is historically not a conquerer, even if her story is framed that way here, but then again, it also sounds an awful lot like more of the propaganda the Evanuris were so good at disseminating about those who fought them. The kind of propaganda that turned a freer of slaves, for instance, into a Dread Wolf of nightmares and cautionary tales.

As far as Mythal, I just don't think she'd head down and conquer beings as vast as the Titans simply to expand the lands of the People or to amass power, since Mythal doesn't seem to be all that interested in power for power's sake.

So, why, then?

Mythal's all about the big picture. Actually, make that Big Picture. She's the one, above everyone else in the trilogy, that I feel is looking out for the world as a whole. She may be cruel at times, but it overwhelmingly appears, for the most part, that this is out of necessity (after all, Mythal is pretty forgiving and non-judgmental even if the Warden and Morrigan go so far as to kill her in DAO!). So as far as the Titans and her conquering one or more of them, my feeling is that it has to be for reasons beyond expansion or greed for lyrium; that instead, she does this because Thedas needs her to. I even wonder if she was responsible for burying all access to the conquered Titan, as a later Codex implies—if it was Blighted, she may have been trying to forestall the entry of the Taint into the world (or simply access to the Blighted (red) lyrium, a separate if parallel deadly poison).

Alternatively, Mythal may have known that the elves would need this power in the future. I'll expand on this in a full later post that will simply address the ties between Mythal, the Titans, the dwarves, the Wardens, Lyrium... and the Blight.

Signs and Symbolism

As the archetypical mother-goddess, Mythal is inherently feminine, and is associated with unshakably feminine symbols, from her birth from the sea, to her creation of the Moon itself.

It is also widely speculated that the constellation Silentir may in fact represent a dragon figure (and Mythal). While some (many) have associated the constellation with the Old God Dumat over the ages, it's worth noting that the elven gods factually predate the Old Gods by millennia—in other words, Mythal came first, but as with so many elven signs and symbols in Thedas, she was once again supplanted, mercilessly, and her origins obscured once again with those preferred by the human Tevinter conquerers.

With its quietly alien dragon face atop the body of a naked female figure, the
winged statue of Mythal that we find frequently across her Temple area in
 the Arbor Wilds is both beautiful and forbidding.

One symbol, of course, is associated with Mythal above all others: that of the dragon itself, and statues and images of dragons appear frequently around her temples and sacred spaces, both in graceful full dragon form (with massive serene, almost mournful figures depicted, heads lowered in either grief or acceptance), and in a woman-dragon form consisting of a womanly figure with dragon wings and a pointed dragon head. The woman-dragon figures are especially striking, because they beautifully reflect the duality of Mythal and Flemeth—the goddess and the witch, the woman and the dragon.

The figures also evoke, for me, a strong visual echo of the Nike of Samothrace (my favorite real-world sculpture, and—true story—when I saw it in person at the Louvre, I burst into tears. Someday I plan to steal it in a nonviolent, high-stakes crime caper and to then put it in my living room, where I will sit and gaze adoringly at it until my inevitable arrest by, of course, the French detective with whom I will be having a doomed but passionate affair). 

Where was I? Oh, right—dragons!

Appropriately, Flemeth (who carries the wisp of Mythal's spirit and awareness within her) is also able to shapechange into the form of a high dragon at will. There are also more subtle parallels—when Mythal confronts Andruil (who has gone mad after her trip to the Void), she fights her in the shape of a giant serpent (which is, once again, a frequent synonym for 'dragon' in high fantasy).

But the dragon isn't just Mythal's symbol. It is a sacred creature, a sacred form, and not only does it look like it may have been a shapeshift all of the Evanuris were capable of accomplishing, but it was also evidently an act of sacrilege for others to attempt.

Retribution and Judgment

Flemeth may be vengeful against those who wronged her so long ago, but she's not, as I mentioned, terribly judgmental in actual temperament. Going back a few millennia, however, it appears that Mythal did indeed have her moments. Based on the Ancient Elven Writing Codex from the Arbor Wilds, Mythal could be fierce in her judgment and retribution against those who took the sacred dragon form, as here:

"His crime is high treason. He took on a form reserved for the gods and their chosen, and dared to fly in the shape of the divine. The sinner belongs to Dirthamen; he claims he took wings at the urging of Ghilan'nain, and begs protection from Mythal. She does not show him favor, and will let Elgar'nan judge him."

For one moment there is an image of a shifting, shadowy mass with blazing eyes, whose form may be one or many. Then it fades.

Even before we get the revelation that she's a living vessel for the spirit of
Mythal, it was always apparent that Flemeth was watching Thedas from a
much larger point of view than anyone else.

So let's look at this fascinating little tidbit: It's directly telling us some really exciting things: That shapeshifting to dragon form is a talent reserved only for the gods themselves. This could mean that all of the Evanuris were capable of the dragon shape-shift, or that (from Mythal's angry reaction and denial of protection), that it's specifically left to Mythal alone. It's not really clear, but would be a wonderful tie right back to Flemeth, and if Morrigan drinks from the Well and becomes  a servant of Mythal, she is then able to shapeshift into a dragon for the final battle, just as her mother once did.

However, the idea that the Evanuris are ALL able to shapeshift into dragon form also adds weight to the frequent argument of some that the Old Gods in dragon form are actually simply the trapped or cursed forms of the Evanuris, themselves, with each (Dumat, Lusacan, Razikale, Toth, Andoral, Zazikel, and Urthemiel) corresponding directly to an elven god or goddess. Of course, this also lends both motive and urgency to why Flemeth (Mythal) is so set on preserving the Old-God souls through the Dark Ritual.

Which would actually be very character-appropriate, if that's the case—that Mythal wished to see the Evanuris punished, but not killed, and that she would still seek to preserve their ancient souls.

It doesn't quite work for me, but it's a cool idea. I still believe the Evanuris are, rather, together and imprisoned somewhere high in the Fade, even as the Forgotten Ones were banished to the abyss... trapped by Solas in the greatest act of retribution the world had ever seen.

Choosing Sides

Let's look back again at that Codex quoted above. It's also implied, at least, according to the defendant, that Ghilan'nain goaded the 'sinner' into the transgression (which fits in perfectly with my perception that Andruil and Ghilan'nain her lover were actively opposed to Mythal). The criminal 'belonging' to Dirthamen can also be interpreted in many different ways, since this may imply that they were a follower of Dirthamen, or may even have been captured by Dirthamen. Some even speculate that the sinner was Dirthamen himself, but I don't get that at all here. "Belonging" to Dirthamen seems far different than "being" Dirthamen, after all.

Then Elgar'nan's judgment there seems to curse the sinner into darkness (into the Void?), possibly transforming them into a monstrous dark form, or perhaps we are simply seeing one of the Forgotten Ones (the enemies of the Evanuris) shifting back into his true form as he is obliterated?

See how each little note or Codex seems to lead to a thousand more questions? It's all so rich and fascinating, but so difficult to pare down! (Right now, even as I write this, I have 18 tabs open on my browser, to different Codices, Wiki entries, elven language translations, and interviews with David Gaider and Patrick Weekes.

Not that I'm complaining. Mythal is an amazingly rich character. But after writing this single post, I'm really thinking we need a whole novel about her! (Hey, I'll do it if nobody else will!)

Sacred Places and Associations

Places sacred to Mythal include an Altar to Mythal in Sundermount, outside
Kirkwall. It's a nice spot—certainly more restful than anywhere else in the area!

Places sacred to Mythal include an Altar to Mythal in Sundermount, outside of Kirkwall, as well as the Temple of Mythal (still guarded by the ancient Sentinel Elves) in the Arbor Wilds (also the location of a second Altar to Mythal nearby, as well as the home of the fire elemental high dragon that is the Guardian of Mythal). There are also statues of Mythal in the Tomb of Fairel and a disquieting, corrupted version in the Tomb of the Emerald Knights.

And let's not forget the Well of Sorrows. Last, but certainly not least, the Well of Sorrows is a pool at the Temple of Mythal where, as Abelas reveals to the Inquisitor and Morrigan and their party, each servant of Mythal passed along his or her knowledge. This was done near the end of each servant's lifespan, for uncounted years, resulting in the Well. It's a deeply tempting object for those seeking knowledge, offering a wealth of information about the ancient elves and days, and yet, with a heavy price, as the drinker from the Well will be bound to serve Mythal without choice or consent going forward for all eternity.

The Well is one of my favorite locations in DAI, as well as posing one of my favorite conundrums. To drink, or not to drink? For my first several playthroughs, I simply could not let my Inquisitors drink. It just felt abhorrent to me to willingly surrender their free will to Mythal (even if I adore Flemeth so much I'd basically fall at her feet if I ever met her).

Then, however, I let an Inquisitor drink from the Well... and it's AMAZING. The benefits are immediately real and tangible. You're able to see and hear things nobody else can see or hear; you can translate things nobody else can translate. You even get some fascinating further translations on the Evanuris and (most disquieting of all) get a tantalizing hint that there may in fact be a link between Mythal and the Calling (but more on that in a separate post).

Best of all, if you drink from the Well, you don't even have to fight the Sentinel Spirits in "Trespasser" (and they're pretty tough), cutting down your fighting time in the DLC by almost half. Nowadays, wherever character-appropriate, I almost always drink from the Well—it's too wonderful not to (and let's face it—no scholar or librarian would ever judge me).

Yep. My Inquisitors are now forever enslaved. Yay! All hail Mythal!

All in the Family

One little detail that I found interesting in the Temple of Mythal is that, in her golden mosaic portrait there, Mythal is depicted as a heavy-breasted, fertile female maternal figure with a radiant glowing halo, and whose arms embrace five little figures, for all the world like chicks in a nest. To me, this is clearly an image of a goddess holding her children, which would suggest to me as I noted in my previous post that, despite conflicting reports, in addition to twins Falon'Din and Dirthamen, as well as Andruil and Sylaise, that the mysterious June was in fact a child of Mythal's and not the husband of Sylaise.

So this means it's truly a family, made up of Mythal, hubby Elgar'nan, and their five children: Falon'Din, Dirthamen, Andruil, June, and Sylaise. As well as the non-familial gods Ghilan'nain, who was raised to godhood from mortality, perhaps as the lover and mate of Andruil, and the mysterious Fen'Harel, who, as I've noted, I believe was originally a spirit and Mythal's closest friend, and who came through at her plea for him to lend her aid when she had no one else to turn to.

To me, this potential family connection is vital to the big picture of the schism within the Evanuris that was to come, because if they're all related (with Ghilan'nain the beloved of Andruil and Fen'Harel closely connected to Mythal, almost as her spirit son made flesh), this adds to both the tragedy of their internal war to come, as well as to the devastating effect it would have had on Mythal. Because, if it's true, this means that Mythal wasn't just betrayed by her arrogant and anger-prone husband, she was murdered by the people she loved and trusted most—her husband and their children, who conspired together to end her life.

Mythal's Fate

Mythal was murdered by the other "gods" and her temple destroyed (and to me, it's certainly heavily implied from Flemeth's tale that Elgar'nan, Mythal's husband, was key in that betrayal, just as Flemeth's husband once betrayed and sought to destroy her). Speculations abound, and I'll be delving into Mythal's murder more deeply in the future, but for now here's what I think, in a nutshell:

I think for many ages (millennia upon millennia to us mortals), that there was peace and joy among the immortal Evanuris, who delighted in their gifts and talents, who loved one another, and who explored the world with passion and curiosity, each finding his or her own joys, pursuits and obsessions. As mother of her eternal and fiery children, Mythal was the judge and justice-keeper, as we know, and she did not hesitate to discipline them when they transgressed.

But I think, for many years, overall, they were happy. I suspect that problems only began to arise out of sheer boredom; beings that live for thousands of years are naturally going to seek out different experiences, and I think that was a major factor here among the Evanuris. A mortal lifetime is a fragile thing of wonder and transitory beauty. But it's all too easy for me to imagine immortal beings who grew restless as the centuries and millennia passed.

Ennui and Despair

These were, as I've noted elsewhere, prickly, passionate and highly emotional beings. Such attributes do not point to a peaceful, ripple-free existence, especially among beings whose powers were literally godlike. I think to address that potential boredom and that sense of ennui, that they would have become seekers of ever-new and unique experiences, prizing the new and unexpected eventually above all other experiences. It's pretty easy to see the ancient elves (and the Evanuris most of all) therefore being, I would imagine, pretty flexible about such matters as sexual orientation and gender identification, even simply in a spirit of experimentation.

The boredom of the Evanuris appears to me to have been in large part due to a rather myopic point of view. They were bored with the world because for them the world was an extension of themselves. People were uninteresting and only useful as potential tools, slaves, or playthings. There is no sense that they delighted in watching the progress of their world or civilization in any kind of higher sense. Just that ever-deepening sense of egotism and arrogance.

This is where I think the evil crept in—the evil of arrogance and boredom, of hubris and vanity. The Evanuris were the saviors of their people, raised on high, and mightier than any who dared to challenge them. They began to believe their own stories, began to assume they deserved more, and slowly they descended into decadence and war, into ridiculous challenges and monuments simply for the momentary thrill of the experiences.

This is when I think Mythal called Fen'Harel into the flesh, and I think not only did he emerge to support and strengthen her, but that he may have forestalled any tensions for many years. Bright and beautiful, and offering an almost limitless knowledge thanks to millennia in the Fade, it's not difficult to imagine that Solas would have enthralled his fellow Evanuris, and that he would have been able to help Mythal maintain peace, at least for awhile.

Until the decadence became darkness. Until the Evanuris began to seek death and war for the sheer pleasure of watching the sacrifice—until they began to enslave and hunt their own people, until they began to scheme and vie for power among themselves, to hunt the darkest depths of the Void, to senselessly destroy the Titans, to (just perhaps) assail the forbidden places high and low for the delight of cruelty and pestilence. 

Here's when I think Solas and Mythal mounted their last, doomed effort to try to protect the People from their fellow "gods." Solas went full-on rogue, freeing the slaves and rallying the people to cast off their chains and fight tyranny. Mythal, perhaps too trusting or unwilling to abandon her family, I think kept up the fight, but from within, not without.

And then they killed her.

Echoes of Past and Future

In retribution for this act, as Mythal's closest companion and friend, Fen'Harel took vengeance upon Mythal by banishing the Evanuris and erecting the Veil. Yet, even millennia later, as Flemeth admits, her spirit still cries out for vengeance.

The past is the future is the past. Solas once mourned for the loss of Mythal
and avenged her murder by separating reality and Fade. I believe he painted
this both in tribute to the past and as penance for the future to come.

Remember that unfinished fresco in Solas's Rotunda? I've been thinking more about it. What if it's not just Solas's regretful foreshadowing of the event to come (in which he must take Flemeth's life-force, given willingly to empower him to save their people), but a flashback to Solas's discovery of Flemeth's murder? The Dread Wolf faces the body of the murdered dragon, the blade still standing in the dragon's bloody back. The wolf's head is bowed in grief. 

The revelation that this could be both a flashback and a flash-forward is one of my favorite little details in the entire story of Dragon Age. And I think it is.

A Wisp of an Ancient Being

Mythal's fate is a tragic one, and it's no less tragic because she was able to find a small scrap of continued life when she joined her wisp to the consciousness of Flemeth. Within the Dragon Age universe, wisps are generally evidently limited in presence and awareness.

The wisp of Mythal that Flemeth carries, however, seems to be something different—something more complex, a consciousness that not only joined symbiotically with Flemeth's, but which also enhanced her powers and awareness, allowed her to maintain an independent persona, and yet which made her something more, something greater. 

Someone greater. Someone who watched over the world, and gave it a nudge now and then. Someone who helped us against the Blight in DAO, and who then donned her fantastic armor and Hair Horns and outfitted herself from that point on for the wars to come (and kudos to Matt Rhodes and the rest of the Dragon Age creative team for the wonderful redesign of Flemeth's character in Dragon Age II—the Hair Horns! The fabulous armor!).

The wisp of Mythal that Flemeth carries seems to be unique among wisp
essences—something sentient and genuinely complex.

Flemeth's account of the experience is one of my favorite pieces of writing in Dragon Age: Inquisition—a poetic account of rage, powerlessness, vengeance, and ascension, and I transcribed it in near-entirety in this post here. 

The important thing is that Flemeth's anger echoes back and overlays nicely with Mythal's own thirst for vengeance. The most important aspect here is that, however much Mythal was once a peacemaker, and however much Flemeth may quietly and benignly (or not-so-benignly) "nudge" the events of the world with her powers and awareness, the rage is also ever-present, simmering beneath the surface. Solas isn't the only one who couldn't get over Mythal's murder and betrayal. The one who felt it even more deeply was, of course (and quite understandably) Mythal herself:

Flemeth: She was betrayed, as I was betrayed—as the world was betrayed! Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!

The important thing here isn't just Flemeth's anger (and the anger of Mythal that she's channeling here), but that she calls the betrayal of Mythal a betrayal of the world itself. This is a major clue, right? That Mythal is speaking for the world itself?

Watching Over the World

Flemeth's words there remind me a little of Gandalf in The Lord of the Rings, actually—when he confronts Denethor in The Return of the King and reminds him, "For I also am a steward. Did you not know?" 

Perhaps Mythal is, in some strange way... a steward herself. A protector of Thedas—not just of its old ways or Old Gods, but of its roots and mountains, its peoples and lives. I think she might be. And if she is, she must make decisions that others will find cruel, doing so as she does from an impartial and difficult vantage point. As with her decision to save the Warden and Alistair while dooming Cailan and Duncan, among many other transitory and difficult judgments. But the love, nevertheless, is always there.

The irony is, this care, this real fascination with and attention to the world at large is why I also believe Mythal was never prey to the boredom and corruption of her peers among the Evanuris. She wasn't focused inward, but outward. She didn't want to find the world within herself, but to explore and celebrate its beauty where it lay. You never get the sense, in hearing or reading about Mythal, or in talking to Flemeth, that she finds people anything less than fascinating and worth loving. She delights in being alive, both as a sensual being, and in her place as a part of something larger than herself, in serving as a vivid thread in a massive tapestry. 

This sense of herself as serving something bigger, however, also, I believe, contributed to Flemeth's abuse of Morrigan. Flemeth, in seeing through the eyes of Mythal, was too focused outward to be a good mother to her child. She was too busy mothering Thedas, or rather—its fate.

It's always how I've seen Flemeth—that via Mythal she answers to a higher allegiance. One that is not always kind.

The Dragon and the Wolf

Ultimately, Mythal's goals may be somewhat aligned with Solas's, but I don't believe they are the same. I believe Mythal cares deeply for Solas and sympathizes with his cause—after all, that final scene between the two of them is fraught with real, palpable affection and deep love. Mythal may even feel some slight (or not so slight) sense of guilt—after all, the elven people were inadvertently doomed because Solas sought to avenge her.

However, I also think she sees farther and aims higher than that. I think she'll help him, to a degree (as when she willingly gives him her power at the end of DAI).

But I think ultimately if it comes down to it, she will act against Solas if he truly threatens Thedas. And while I'd hate to see these two who love each other forced into a battle that could only be tragic for both of them, I also admit... the Dread Wolf versus the Dragon? Man, that's a boss battle I'd pay all kinds of money to see.

Hints from the Dialogue

Flemeth's dialogue snippets through the trilogy are both illuminating and genuinely exciting, thanks in no small part to the unmistakable performance of Flemeth's talented longtime voice actress Kate Mulgrew, whose deep, purring and instantly distinctive drawl imbues Flemeth with a real sense of dignity and knowledge that is also tempered constantly by sorrow, love, amusement, and even rage. Thanks to Mulgrew, Flemeth may hiss with malevolence in one moment, chuckle at the ironies of the world seconds later... and then cry out in regret and sorrow the next. She's gloriously complex.

Is Flemeth (and through her, Mythal) a sort of steward
or caretaker looking out for Thedas? 

But what do Flemeth's words mean? How far is she willing to go? My take on Flemeth/Mythal is that there's a core, a foundation, of unshakable purity there. That she is, again, acting for a cause greater than herself. 

I don't think there's a single word spoken by Flemeth in Dragon Age that won't turn out to be incredibly important in some way. Here's a look at just a few of her more mysterious and fascinating pronouncements:

Dragon Age: Origins: "You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide, either way, one's a fool."

Dragon Age II: "Regret is something I know well. Take care not to cling to it, to hold it so close that it poisons your soul."

"We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment... and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly."

Dragon Age: Inquisition: "I nudge history, when it's required. Other times, a shove is needed."

"Truth is not the end, but a beginning."

These dialogue snippets are fascinating in every way. What's she really telling us? Is she warning us in a spirit of kindness or generosity? Or simply giving us an advance look at the irrevocable doom that hovers over Thedas's future?

Mythal better be back after this. She'll be fine. She just needs some more
time at the spa where she got her Hair Horns of Awesomeness, dammit!

We know from the legends that Mythal has taken extraordinary action before, going all the way back to the oldest days of the world, when she constantly battled her mate and her children from actions that might irreparably harm Thedas. I'll always like that she tried. And I admire that she disciplined them when their actions were terrible and impactful enough that they needed to be stopped from wreaking further havoc—that she held back Elgar'nan and Falon'Din, stopped Andruil and Ghilan'nain, that she appears to have tried to leave space for the other creatures of their world—elves, dwarves, Titans and who knows what else—to find their way. And then she died for it.

But here she still is, all these years later, death or no death. Goddess and witch, elf and mortal. Ancient and eternal, maiden and crone. Death or no death, loss or no loss, Mythal never gives up. She's the woman with a dragon's spirit, the person with the eye on the big picture of Thedas as a tapestry only she can read. Even in her final, fateful meeting with Solas, she is wise, prepared, accepting and sorrowful. She's still trying to nudge events the right way, to help Thedas find the light. Still dancing to a song that only she can hear.

Is that song really over, as Solas takes the power she offers, as she submits to at least the facsimile of death from the one being in all of Thedas who once loved, obeyed and tried to avenge her? Even as Solas gently and reverently lowers Flemeth's blackened corpse to the floor of the temple, is Mythal's story finally done? 

Or has Mythal's story and awareness simply been reborn, as occurred so long ago in ages past? After all, she calmly sent a wisp of herself into that eluvian before her final meeting with Fen'Harel, knowing he would appear and what would occur. Can we, from this, hope that Mythal (and hopefully still in her guise as Flemeth) will still return? Solas himself implies that death for Mythal, as "the First of his People," is not an easy matter. And what's death, after all, to an ancient goddess, but one more obstacle to be overcome?

After all, it is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly...

Meet the Evanuris: The Mother, the Spirit and the War of the Gods

When you consider what life was like in the ancient days when spirits and
physical beings lived together in a magical world, it's easy to see why Solas
reacted in horror to his awakening after millennia in the Fade.

The pages of this book—memory?—describe an elf approaching a city of glass spires so deeply blue they ache. The city's outskirts are wrapped in lakes of mist, and figures stroll along the pearly, glowing strips as if they walked on solid ground. Groves of trees woven into enormous parks shelter elves in quiet hollows, while other elves walk below a river churning along an invisible shoal in the air.

The scene hums with quiet talk and contentment as the memory's maker reaches the city's gates, already thrown open wide.
—Dragon Age: Inquisition "Trespasser" DLC ("Vir Dirthara" Codex: Homecoming).

SPOILERS as always, for all of Dragon Age!

Welcome! We're on to my second post in my series on "Meet the Evanuris" (please do check out my first post here, for a general overview of Dalish myths and gods back when we were young and naive and oh, so trusting). 

Our knowledge is darker now, however, and far more complex, thanks to Dragon Age: Inquisition and especially "Trespasser." 

So here we go... as we try to separate fact from myth.

Let's set the scene: In the very farthest reaches of the past, it appears that there was a great war, between the immortal Elvhen people, led by the Evanuris, and a force of unnamed foes (the Forgotten Ones, to me, are the likeliest candidates here). They won, and the Evanuris prospered, and, I suspect, drew power from their defeated foes much like Solas would do to Mythal, countless ages later.  (Please note that I'm going to use the 'Elvhen' connotation for the ancients here, to differentiate from the modern elves).

Incredibly powerful in magic and accepted as leaders by a presumably grateful people, the Evanuris were the ruling body for millennia. According to most Dalish myths about the elven pantheon, they were led by Mythal and Elgar'nan, who had five children: the twins Falon'Din and Dirthamen, as well as Andruil, Sylaise and June. 

Yet as we travel through Thedas and into mysterious areas like the Temple of Mythal, the Tomb of the Emerald Knights, the Lost Temple of Dirthamen, and into the hidden Elven Ruins in Solas's ancient valley, we begin to find that Andruil, Sylaise and June are also depicted as being potentially completely unrelated. Further, there are even implications that Falon'Din and Dirthamen were not biological twins, but something more complex.

Me, I'm not so sure about the family issue. At least in this moment, I'm on the side of the fence that thinks they were all related.

Mythal and her brood of little nestlings,
before the world went wrong.

The Spirit and the Flesh

I think the five were Mythal's actual children because of, first off, the golden mosaic portrait of Mythal in her hidden Arbor Wilds temple. Look at it—she looks for all the world like she's adorably holding a basket of chicks... FIVE OF THEM!

And it also does appear to me from the stories and implications that Mythal, at the very least, loved these people and considered them offspring. Or, at least, family. Biological connections or no.

But even if they were all family, this doesn't have to mean that they were all physical beings. 

Think about it. We know from the revelations of "Trespasser" that they were all powerful mages, but it's also entirely possible that, in a universe in which spirits and physical bodies inhabited the world together, pre-Veil, not all of Mythal's children may have been of the flesh. (Or her companions, for that matter, but I'll get to that farther on...)

For instance, based on the original Dalish legend that Falon-Din could go beyond the Fade (or, let's say, into the spiritual realm pre-Veil) in ways Dirthamen could not, I wonder if Dirthamen was a physical being, an elf, while his 'twin' Falon'Din, who was able to walk both worlds, was in fact a spirit all along. I mean, it would make sense. No mortal could cross and recross into the purely spiritual world beyond the physical as Falon'Din does, so the discrepancy makes perfect sense. They may even have been able to share Dirthamen's physical body on occasion, in a more benign version of the way Justice piggybacked on poor Anders's soul.

And while I'm on the subject... I want to point out that it's this, as I mentioned briefly in my previous post, that may answer the mystery of why Falon'Din and Dirthamen are the only Evanuris depicted in the Temple of Mythal with black, black eyes. (Yes, I'm still wondering about this...)

(Please note that throughout this discussion, when I refer to "the Fade," I am referring to the spiritual side of the Elvhen world, pre-Veil, and more specifically, to the place from whence spirits are born, and to which the souls of the dead return.)

I think this is an important detail to note because of the time period we're addressing—the time of the Evanuris was an age in which the spiritual and the physical were not precisely interchangeable, maybe, but in which they coexisted in perfect harmony. Spirits and fleshly beings were both equally considered to be people and treated, it seems, without a specific prejudice for either. In fact, I wonder if spiritual beings weren't in fact more prized for their input because it had the potential to come from experiences across distances and years far beyond those of living beings, even immortal ones. 

I'll go into more of the potential for both physical and spiritual Evanuris members in Mythal's entry to follow... and farther on in this post, as well.

Meanwhile, our journeys through DAI and "Trespasser" certainly teach us many things about the elven pantheon that seem to be less rooted in legend and more based in fact (and please note that anything I refer to here as "facts" is simply my assumption of what we learn in "Trespasser"—everything we know may very well of course be flipped again in Dragon Age 4). 

I do think that in the glorious early days of the Evanuris, there was
real love and affection among them, even if it wasn't sustainable.

Myths, Lies and Truths

What's most interesting to me is that, fairly quickly into Dragon Age: Inquisition, our own accepted assumptions upon visiting the story of the elven pantheon are up-ended, and radically so. It is, after all, Mythal and Fen'Harel we eventually come to associate with vengeance, not Elgar'nan, even though it becomes apparent that Elgar'nan's temper was his defining quality (he certainly doesn't sound like a very pleasant guy, and much like Zeus it's implied that he may have been a pretty terrible husband, father and ruler). Take this pleasant little excerpt from the "Song to Elgar'nan" found in the Temple of Mythal:

Elgar’nan, Wrath and Thunder,
Give us glory.
Give us victory, over the Earth that shakes our cities.
Strike the usurpers with your lightning.
Burn the ground under your gaze.
Bring Winged Death against those who throw down our work.
Elgar’nan, help us tame the land.

In the above, don't miss what may be veiled references to a threatening Titan (in the shaking of the Earth), and to the divine dragon shape-shifting form that was apparently the ability common to all of the Evanuris (not just Mythal)—I'll address this in more detail farther on. In the references to lightning, are they referring, meanwhile, to Elgar'nan's mage abilities? Or did he, like Zeus and Thor, profess to use both lightning and thunder against his foes?

With these and many other tantalizing little revelations, in other words, we quickly come to realize through the Codices and scraps of knowledge we accumulate in DAI that the Evanuris weren't all-knowing, powerful deities. They were, in fact, an arrogant, quarrelsome, corrupt and conflicted lot who frequently warred and fought within themselves, enslaved their own people, and who just as frequently abused their powers simply for amusement's sake.

I frequently play for Dalish Inquisitor protagonists in my DAI playthroughs, and if I headcanon for my heroine during the story's events and discoveries, I always find the revelations about the Evanuris to be incredibly powerful on an emotional level. Imagine Cassandra finding out that the Maker was not only never real, he was just some arrogant mage guy abusing his power. I mean, the implications are huge for the elven participants in DAI. Imagine the loss of belief in a profoundly Dalish believer... it might be enough to cause you to doubt everything you thought you knew. And it just might be enough to send you dashing off into the world to follow the silent call of an ancient almost-god...

But things were different long ago, after all. And maybe it wasn't always bad. In fact, I'm sure it wasn't.

A Paradise of Magic and Knowledge

In the beginning, despite the high passions and prideful immortals, it truly seems that there was harmony among the Evanuris, and I do believe, at first, that these beings did love one another, and glory in the beautiful world they inhabited. Andruil hunted and killed, yes, but at first I think she did so out of a real desire to celebrate and protect the beasts of the world and to pit herself only against their very greatest strengths (and to then, I would assume, feed her people). She who hunted the beasts also protected them, something we see in the fragments of stories of Ghilan'nain as well. 

I also think that Falon'Din, the 'shadow' of Dirthamen who may have been a terrifying spirit, at first really did probably treat his work as a shepherd of sleepers in uthenera, and later, of souls, with honor and respect. I would imagine that in the beginning, Falon'Din  would have experienced real wonder at each new soul and its passage to the Beyond, whether in dreams and uthenera, with the potential to return, or whether as a final journey into the Fade upon death, in a return from physical form to spiritual.

In other words, for a time I think it all really was wonderful, magical, beautiful and peaceful—perhaps for millennia the mortals of Thedas would be unable to count or even imagine. 

The story is certainly sadder if these beings all began as good, and I believe it's plausible that for many thousands of years, even, the Evanuris were truly wise in their rule over the Elvhen people. I think they created and nurtured a paradise of wisdom, magic and thought, in which gravity was optional, conversations lasted for decades, relationships evolved over centuries, and the magic was as simple as a word or a breath. A world that Solas later mourns to us in Haven:

“Imagine ..... spires of crystal twining through the branches, palaces floating among the clouds. Imagine beings who lived forever, for whom magic was as natural as breathing. That is what was lost.”

Passions Before the Veil

Speaking of Solas, I think it's important to bring up the fact here that, based on his dialogues and interactions with a romanced Inquisitor, these were intensely, deeply feeling people—beings who were both wise with millennia of learning, conversation and exploration, but who were also shown time and again to be quick to feeling, emotion and passion. 

Solas, seen here just before he utterly stomps all over my poor Inquisitor's heart,
is a sensual, passionate, and intensely emotional person. Were these qualities
common to all Evanuris in a world without a Veil? I think they were. 

Look at Solas in Dragon Age: Inquisition—even under the 'blanketing' presence of the Veil, he reveals himself to be a passionate and emotional person—not at all the cold-seeming mage apostate we first talked to at Haven. Solas's emotions run high and his fires are undimmed once he becomes freer to talk to our Inquisitors (if high in approval), and especially with a romanced Inquisitor, it's easy to see why he initially felt depressed and confined by the world under the Veil. This is also subtly emphasized by the fact that Solas is at his most romantic and passionate either in the Fade, or where the Veil is thin (as it is in his excursion to Crestwood with a romanced Inquisitor). He even admits this openly after the first kiss: "Such things have always been easier for me in the Fade."

With this in mind, it's all too easy to see why Solas awakened after long millennia and looked around himself in horror, seeing all those around him as beings who, to him, seemed muted and fragile, transitory and barely alive—he'd awakened, as he eloquently describes it in "Trespasser," to "a world of Tranquil." (I love this description, thanks to the always-superb Patrick Weekes, and have frequently felt since hearing it that this is also what it is often like to be an artist, as well...)

Anyway. When this consideration enters the picture, that this entire people were intense, emotional, deeply feeling and passionate, it's easier to see that the Evanuris were, in all likelihood, doomed by the very passions that sustained them. 

And let's not discount the very real potential for the most insidious enemy of all... boredom.

After all, a few millennia go by, and hey, you've seen it all, done it all. Perhaps the Evanuris, in the end, were no different from the many RPG players who, having done their share of 'paragon' playthroughs, decide to go renegade just to see what would happen next. (I'm only partly kidding, here...)

The Inevitable Corruption of Power

Because, let's face it: People change. Or, as Anne Rice's ancient vampires discovered, perhaps it's a more subtle thing—that people who can exist for centuries do not so much change as become more and more who they always were at their core. 

In other words, immortality may actually kind of suck.

Either way, after however many ages or millennia, every one of the Evanuris seems to eventually gone slightly mad (and then some) at a certain point, corrupting in each case the very talent, ability or love that had originally moved and shaped them. So Dirthamen became obsessed with secrets. Andruil went bonkers and hunted earth, skies and the Void itself to such an extent that even her fellow "gods" expressed fear that they might be next. Falon'Din no longer just ferried souls, he harvested them, glorying in death and lakes of blood, and amassing armies of spirits to do his bidding (that is, when he wasn't clashing with Elgar'nan for dominance). Elgar'nan, meanwhile, was evidently the same lovely guy he'd always been, just intensified, enslaving countless numbers of his people to serve and honor him, and to erect massive tributes and statues to his might—and very possibly doing so by carving those tributes into the bodies of his slain enemies, which in one memorable case he seems to have done on the mountainous corpse of a Titan itself (or, well, he had his slaves do it). Here's a quote from that moment:

The pages of this book—memory?—describe a monument made in a single afternoon by a thousand-thousand toiling servants swarming over a lump of fallen stone as large as a collapsed mountain. By the end of the day, the stern figure of Elgar'nan stares down into a valley, carved out from the foothills of the rock. The slaves have disappeared. Light radiates from the eidolon's narrowed eyes and its open, snarling mouth.

(Side Note: As they were in DAI, the Codices in "Trespasser" aren't just incredibly informative, they're also gorgeously written, so kudos to the writing team on those, which included the intrepid and talented Brianne Battye, Mary Kirby, and @Sylvf.)

The Evanuris were likely always doomed. Even in a world of magic,
I suspect that gravity will eventually always win out.

In short, immortality was no longer enough. Power was no longer enough. Magic was no longer enough. Only an unquestioned dominion over all, with tributes of death and enslavement, could satisfy the Evanuris. Vanity, jealousy and a refusal to abnegate power seem to have been the fatal flaws of the once-harmonious group.

It was both tragic and inevitable. They'd seen it all, done it all. It appears that, at a certain point, the only thing that would satisfy them was to make the world their playground, a place in which they could enact the darkest tableaux of fear, war, death, corruption, decadence, plague (cough, BLIGHT, Andruil, cough), and enslavement.

The Arrival of Solas...

My own interpretation is that here, watching Andruil slay for fun, breaking her own sacred rules as she hunted earth, abyss and sky while poisoning both herself and the world, watching Elgar'nan and Falon'Din delight in slaughter and power, and watching even Dirthamen and Ghilan'nain plot against her, that Mythal just got scared, depressed, and tired.

I think that for awhile here, she tried for peace nonviolently at first, and sometimes it even worked. But then that wasn't enough. People weren't listening. So then she went into full-on Warrior-Queen battle mode—in Dragon Age: Inquisition and especially in "Trespasser," we find so much evidence of Mythal's physical attempts to stop the carnage! She subdues Falon'Din in his own temple. She overpowers Andruil and removes the knowledge of the Void from her to protect the world. She even may defeat a Titan simply for one more tool in her hand to use to protect her land and people (I'm still trying to figure out what her motive was here, but I'm convinced it has something to do with helping the elves—I just don't see Mythal killing a Titan for sheer gain).

Either way, she does all this, and it's still not enough.

So I think she calls for help. She calls on a friend from the Fade—a friend I believe she knows and deeply loves—someone she trusts to be both friend, companion and protector: Solas. A spirit.

The Case for Solas as Spirit

This is it. I think this is the point when Mythal calls Solas into the physical world, and I believe wholly and utterly that when she does so, she is calling on someone she has known since the world was young, a spirit of wisdom and grace.

And I think he answers out of love for her, and does as she asks, entering the world of Thedas as a slender, quiet young man, as a being who is utterly unique—both spirit and body, old and young, servant and master, guardian and trickster. Who walks in all worlds, both dark and light. I think their bond is one of love, but that it is not romantic; in fact, I think it actually transcends romance.

I'll talk about this more later, but it's intriguing to consider that Solas, already impossibly old in spirit form, may enter the world of the living here, becoming enfleshed at the request of Mythal (much as Cole would do, albeit involuntarily, ages later), in the body of the man we meet millennia beyond this time in Dragon Age: Inquisition. 

I think this is what Solas means when he says he has always been the person we see before us, and that he's telling the truth; he is who he appears to be. He doesn't carry a wisp or vestige of a god; he is the god himself, the god who knows he's not one and never was; the elf and man who was once a spirit. I think all of this is true, and that the only change to that physical form of his is that the vallaslin that signified his service to Mythal, a symbol that became one of enslavement among his people, he eventually removed with her blessing, leaving only the tiniest scar upon his face as evidence (hey, it was probably his first try), as Cole later remarks obliquely in "Trespasser."

I love the idea of Solas beginning life as a spirit who is then called into the physical world (accepting that call by choice, and with love). It explains so much about him—his passionate embrace of all things fleshly, from the "frilly cakes" he once loved back in the ancient days of Orlais, to his open and fiery sensuality with a romanced Inquisitor. 

It also explains his passionate support of spirits as fellow individuals, his empathy for Cole, as well as his deep grief over the loss of the spirit Wisdom. This isn't just someone he may have known during his long sleep in the Fade, after all, but someone he may have known for ages beyond counting. Someone who is a reflection of who he himself once was. 

It even explains his painting style on the beautiful frescoes in his Rotunda, which I believe are accomplished not only in the finest artistic tradition of the ancient Elvhen masters, but that they also depict the events of DAI as seen not in real life, but instead as if... seen by someone from the Fade. That's my theory, anyway.

So... Enter Solas, stage left.

The idea that Solas may have entered the world solely at the request of
Mythal, and as a testament of his love for her, makes the end of their
journey all the more tragic and ironic.

Choosing Sides

I suspect that, for awhile, maybe even a few more thousand years or so, that Solas's entry onto the scene helped to stabilize things. He was brilliant, with a knowledge of the Fade/Spirit world beyond any ever seen, and with prodigious magical powers and a gift for diplomacy, a passion for justice and free will, and a slight glint of both rebellion and humor now and then. I think Solas would have fascinated the other Evanuris, and that he may even have grown to love his fellow 'gods' and truly helped Mythal to stem the tide of corruption, at least for awhile.

My suspicion, however, is that, even then, the one thing Solas could not stand was the existence of slavery. As someone who may have existed for countless previous ages and civilizations in the Fade, Solas would have seen the tragedies of slavery in years beyond the telling, and he would have seen the enslavement of their own people by the Evanuris as the height of evil. Either way, he began to fight it, first covertly, and then in open defiance.

At around this same time (or so I hypothesize), we know from the Codices that Mythal stepped in between the conflicts of Falon'Din and Elgar'nan, and that she eventually openly defeated Falon'Din, bloodying him in the sacred place of his Temple itself (an insult I'd imagine he never got over). We also know that Mythal openly defeated Andruil after her final trip to the Void, and that she may even have taken some of her power just as Solas later does from Flemeth, as the Codex notes that Mythal "sapped Andruil's strength and stole her knowledge." Again, Andruil may have taken awhile to recover, but as with Falon'Din, I do not see her licking her wounds and reconciling herself to peace, and it's definitely implied that she had personal reasons to begin to hate and fear Solas, as well, in her own right.

The eventual war within the Evanuris was, for this reason, unavoidable. Eventually, despite Solas's brilliance and trickery, despite all of Mythal's attempts at peace, the oldest and most powerful mages ever seen set themselves up as gods, opposed only by an increasingly desperate Mythal and Solas, who was now making a name for himself by freeing slaves and toppling tyrants in his own right. And so they began to call him Fen'Harel, the Dread (or 'Rebel') Wolf, as the being who could stalk them in all worlds and take them down, and whose magical powers exceeded even their own. 

The Divine Shape

We learn some interesting things in DAI and "Trespasser" about the escalation in tensions at this point. From still another Codex from elven writing found in the Arbor Wilds, we learn that the 'divine' form of the dragon-shapeshifter may not have been solely the province of Mythal herself, but (it's implied) was the province of the Evanuris or 'gods' themselves:

"His crime is high treason. He took on a form reserved for the gods and their chosen, and dared to fly in the shape of the divine. The sinner belongs to Dirthamen; he claims he took wings at the urging of Ghilan'nain, and begs protection from Mythal. She does not show him favor, and will let Elgar'nan judge him."

For one moment there is an image of a shifting, shadowy mass with blazing eyes, whose form may be one or many. Then it fades.

This, to me, is a huge clue fraught with significance. It's really exciting!

While we now associate Mythal as the figure associated with the dragon,
there's a distinct possibility that shape-changing to the 'divine' dragon-form
was in fact possible for all of the Evanuris at some point.

Basically, from this scrap of information, it appears to me that Ghilan'nain and Dirthamen seem to have teamed up at some point (which also, to me, implies at least some alignment with the already ferocious Andruil) to support a dragon shapeshifter of their own. Created, perhaps, to battle Mythal? The outcome for the 'sinner' in question did not go well, however, and Mythal allowed Elgar'nan to enact a brutal judgment—again, setting the stage for betrayal, as we already know how close Dirthamen and Falon'Din are supposed to have been.

So... if we follow this logic even further, it would seem to me that Andruil, Falon'Din, Dirthamen, and Ghilan'nain were openly opposed to Mythal, and that (based on Mythal's parallel rage to Flemeth's) Mythal's mate Elgar'nan also aligned with them eventually (overcoming his previous antagonism with Falon'Din). And based on the implications of our final talk with Solas, it appears that Sylaise and June, too, joined in, as all of the 'gods' were judged by him as complicit in the betrayal. I've even wondered if Elgar'nan only pretended to judge the 'sinner' mentioned above, and if instead the criminal wasn't actually freed instead. If so, this 'sinner' could in fact be the entity who eventually committed the actual murder of Mythal.

At the same time, I wonder if this isn't also when the Forgotten Ones, renewed in strength and awaiting their chance, sensed the schism and warfare among the Evanuris, and used the situation to make another attempt to conquer the Elvhen people once more. It would make sense, and also explain why Solas took action against both sides of the conflict, as well.

Either way, with their fellow immortals aligned against them, and war threatening from the Forgotten Ones, Mythal and Fen'Harel could not stand against them all. But it seems they tried.

But it was not enough. They were betrayed, and Mythal was murdered.

And after Mythal fell, as we know, Fen'Harel's vengeance tore apart the heavens, created the Veil, destroyed both the safety, culture, and immortality of the elves, and cast both the Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones into imprisonment for the ages. He did this both to save his people and to avenge the murder of the person he loved most in all worlds, but as we already know within the world of Dragon Age, by doing so he also inadvertently doomed his own people to mortality, defeat, diminishment, and eventual enslavement by humans.

And all because he answered the cry of Mythal.

A Closer Look

Thanks as always for reading! I'll be taking a closer individual look at each member of the Evanuris in further posts, following the hints and revelations of Dragon Age: Inquisition and "Trespasser."

And of course, for me, the pantheon must begin not with the cliche of the Father, but with, instead, the Mother... so I'll be posting on Mythal soon to follow, as the first of many more to come in the series intermittently over the coming months.

Meanwhile: what do you think of the Evanuris? What are your thoughts about the theories I've posted here? Do you think it's possible that Solas and Falon'Din may have been spirits in the first place? I'd love to hear what you think, so please do share your reactions in the comments!