Meaningful Banters: "He Dumped Me!" (A Real-Life Post-Solas Discussion)

I just met a wonderful new man. He's fictional... but you can't have everything.
—The Purple Rose of Cairo

She's gone. She gave me a pen. I gave her my heart, she gave me a pen.
—Say Anything

SPOILERS for Dragon Age: Inquisition!

So, let's talk.

What do you do after a certain unexpected and earth-shaking relationship status change in Dragon Age: Inquisition? 

Yeah. You know. That moment after Solas dumps you.

Did you take the option to call him an asshole? Or did you shrug? Cry? Yell banal’abelas, banal’vhenan? Or did you nod understandingly while calmly waiting for him to work out his internal bullshit? If so, you're a far better person than my poor Inky, who in my own internal headcanon went off to get schnockered at The Herald's Rest for a week and who then filled all Solas's favorite wine bottles with tea.

I didn't take it so well either. In a weak moment, I called a gamer friend, Kimberley, to admit the depths of my outrage. And she's never let me forget it.

I'd really loved Bull's romance previously, but okay, I admit it, my crush on Solas was even worse—pixellated or not, I'd definitely found myself gazing at him more than once with little hearts in my eyes. For this reason, writing my latest analyses on Solas's romance has been even more fun than usual, but reliving its humiliation and fabulousness also made me think again about how oddly emotional these game moments can be. 

Case in point... Exhibit A.

I pause the game. Click a number on my phone.

Kimberley: Hey, what's up?

Me: He dumped me!

Kimberley: Who?

Me: SOLAS.

Kimberley: Uh... who?

Me: Elf boyfriend. You know... Solas. IN THE GAME. Inquisition.

Kimberley: Oh, God, right! Pajama elf! The one who's... remind me again? He's, like... a superhero?

Me: An ancient elven god.

Kimberley: Oh. Right. Pretty cool. I remember now. Even if that was a total spoiler though.

Me: Yeah, it is cool. And sorry again that I spoiled you. I was just really excited when I found out.

Kimberley: I get it.

Me: Thanks.

Kimberley: But... didn't you already know that was gonna happen?

Me: Him dumping me? Um, I mean, my Inquisitor? NO, I DID NOT.

Kimberley: But I thought you played it before.

Me: I did, but I romanced Bull.

Kimberley: Oh, right! The one with the... um... safe word?

Me (cough): Yeah.

Kimberley: Woof.

Side Note: At this point in time, Kimberley hasn't yet played DAI or romanced Bull, but she's heard my vague if delighted descriptions of his romance. So we both pause for a respectful mental time-out.

Me: Anyway.

Kimberley: Yeah. 

Pause.

Me: It just seems unfair. You'd think the fictional boyfriends are the ones who'll be supportive. Not dump you suddenly in the middle of a swamp. I mean, I get enough of that in real life! It's not right.

Kimberley: Since when have you been dumped in the middle of a swamp?

Me: Okay, so I'm exaggerating. But then he just leaves you there!

Kimberley: In the swamp? 

Me: Yeah. I mean, it's not like they have Ubers in Thedas.

A pause. 

Meanwhile, in my imagination, Solas is choosing this moment to change his Facebook status from "In a relationship" to "Single." 

Kimberley: So... you're actually kind of pissed about this, aren't you?

Me: Huh? No. Um. It just caught me off guard.

Kimberley: Because you honestly really sound upset.

Me: THEY DIDN'T EVEN SLEEP TOGETHER.

Kimberley: Ouch.

Me: See? I know, right? 

Kimberley: I don't care if he's fictional, that's gotta hurt.

Me: AND HE WON'T EVEN TALK TO ME ABOUT IT!

An audible sniffle escapes me and I reach frantically for a tissue. I am now mentally throwing fireballs at Solas. I am not okay.

Kimberley: Wait. You sound funny. Have you been crying?

Me: No.

Kimberley: Oh shit. You have. You totally cried.

Me: Oh, boo-hoo, lucky guess... Besides, I cry at everything. I'm a crier. Books. Movies. Commercials. Disney ballads. YouTube videos. Pets. Sappy pop songs.

Kimberley: Fictional boyfriends...

Me: You weren't there!

Kimberley: Angela... Neither were you!

Me: Okay, I know, I know, but... seriously, it's surprisingly emotional.

Kimberley: You're too sensitive. You need to play more zombie stuff.  It's cathartic. And you don't get relationship crap.

Me:  It's not my fault! It's Bioware! They're evil! It's WHAT THEY DO.

Kimberley: You cried. Over a fake boyfriend in a video game. I'm blackmailing you about this forever. This is hilarious.

Me: It's not hilarious. If Garrus had dumped your FemShep you totally would have cried.

Kimberley (smugly): Garrus would never do that to me.

Me: If I killed you with the power of my mind right now, no jury would convict me.

Kimberley: No jury in... where is it again?

Me: THEDAS.

Kimberley: Sorry. I'll be serious. I really do want to be supportive. 

Me: Thanks.

Kimberley: So. Can you kick his ass, at least?

Me: Huh. No. I don't think so.

Kimberley: Awww... 

Me: What is it?

Kimberley: You can't. You can't do it.

Me: Shut up.

Kimberley: YOU STILL LOVE HIM, don't you?

Me: Oops, look at the time! I... Yeah. GOTTA GO.

Kimberley: Coward.

Me: Someday, you'll play Dragon Age: Inquisition. And you'll romance Solas. And on that day, you will FINALLY understand my pain.

Kimberley: No, I won't. 

Me: Why?

Kimberley: Because I'm gonna romance Bull.**

The Emotional Component

Sigh. True story. And in all seriousness there is this small part of my brain that's still waiting for some kind of resolution there. I can laugh about it (and often do), but there's a reason many of us nevertheless wince a little when we call this emotional state Solavellan Hell.

I mean... sometimes, if a game is good enough, this stuff sure feels emotionally real. That's part of the fun of it, oddly enough.

Another fun aspect to all the suffering is that if I ever want consolation on this, I've got it in spades. Because I am not alone. Thousands of other gamers all over the world have also romanced my commitment-phobic, lonely elven god boyfriend. So we're all kind of supportive and sweet to each other when we hang out on social media or post in groups or message boards. It's pretty funny, as if we all have the same ex, but minus the residual jealousy or weirdness.

POV (Emotion Versus Reality)

And it's the same with almost all of us, I notice. We start out by saying "My Inquisitor" did this, or "My Warden" did that, but you know what happens every time? The first person sneaks in—lord knows, you've had to have noticed it here on my blog, since I do it constantly. The shift is almost imperceptible for me at this point—from "she did this," or "he did that," to "I did this" or "I did that." Because yes, you're building a character when you play these RPGs, but the Dragon Age team in creating them, and especially in the case of Inquisition, also thoroughly understands that you're additionally invested on a powerful and personal level that may surprise you (it always does me), and bam, at certain, sneaky moments, you'll almost certainly find your heart engaged, as well as your imagination and intellect. 

But, well, that's what you get when you give your heart to a fictional character. Or when you don't do the Dark Ritual. Or when you don't save the Chargers.

Or when you romance Solas.

While it's not always exactly a barrel of laughs, as an emotional experience in Dragon Age, Solas's romance is, for me, unparalleled. And that's even before you factor in the ornate and poetic language, or the surging melancholy strings of Trevor Morris's gorgeous and cinematic soundtrack, or Gareth David-Lloyd and Alix Wilton Regan's beautiful voices, or the haunting and lovely character design, or the breathtaking and sorrowful backdrops of Thedas.

So. Yeah: Next post. Let's do this... 

Let's talk about Solas's romance...

**NOTE: Two years later, Kimberley played Dragon Age: Inquisition. And she romanced... (wait for it)... SOLAS.

Ha.

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!

Meet the Evanuris: The Dalish Origins of the Elven Pantheon

Up on Mount Sundermount with Flemeth, in Dragon Age 2. We're not
aware of it here, but we're actually getting a pep talk from Mythal herself!
It's no accident, of course, that we're near to an altar dedicated to Mythal.

The elves called to their ancient gods, but there was no answer.

SPOILERS as always, for all of Dragon Age!

Welcome back! And apologies for the silence—my research on this topic just seemed to go on endlessly... I'd assemble codex after codex, go through interviews with Bioware writers, and still feel like I'd barely scratched the surface... it's a tribute to Bioware and the Dragon Age universe that the lore is so rich and full of potential discovery. But it also meant that creating this post (and the one post-Trespasser, as well as Mythal's, to follow shortly after) took me longer than I expected. 

I still feel like I haven't covered as much as I wanted to, explored as richly as I should have, and... yeah. I'm pooped. 

So of course, this means you'll have to prepare for even more walls of text in the future on these subjects. Instead of my original plan, of a post or two (oh, I was so, so young!), it will now be part of a brand-new post series.

And it's been interesting. As noted above, I've found that the real peril of investigating the Evanuris is that you can read a hundred pages, posts, and codices and you'll still always find more. So it's definitely been a challenge, and one I'll admit was not quite as much fun as the research I did on Bull's sex life (dammit). Has it been fascinating? Yes. Sexy? Not so much. But I think it's going to be essential for making additional connections as we look forward to Dragon Age 4. 

So here we go, with a preliminary look at the elven gods—please note spoilers, as always, on all of Dragon Age!

A Closer Look at the Elven Pantheon

Ancient, dangerous, complicated and endlessly fascinating, the Evanuris are some of the most tantalizing mysteries to be found in the Dragon Age universe. Stories of the Evanuris are inexorably tied with stories of the even more mysterious "Forgotten Ones," their ancient enemies (and whom I'll be exploring later in a separate post, along with the Old Gods, as well).

It's probably crazy of me, but I find the
portrait of Dirthamen at the Temple of
Mythal far creepier than Falon'Din's.
Note the black eyes here—unique to
the portraits of the twins alone.

However, if we go way, way back, in the very beginning of the Dragon Age story, in Dragon Age: Origins, we're introduced to the elven pantheon (or as we later know them, the Evanuris) as a classically polytheistic counterpoint to the monotheistic and pseudo-Christian vision of the Chantry and its Maker. We first get to know them as members of the Dalish pantheon, and as an echo of many of the classical Greek/Roman and Norse archetypes, and since they're a nomadic people, the Dalish versions could also be said to evoke many deities of several of the indigenous Native American tribes, as well. 

Upon introduction, we're given an assortment of common divine archetypes: Mythal (The Mother-Protector), Elgar'nan (the All-Father, god of Vengeance, Wrath and Thunder), Andruil (the Huntress, along with Ghilan'nain), Falon'Din (the Death-master), Dirthamen (the Knowledge-Keeper), June (Crafts and Weapons), Sylaise (Hearth and Healing)... and (of course) the much-loved, feared, and hated Trickster, Fen'Harel.

First, let's take a look at the Dalish visions of the Evanuris gods and goddesses... and then I'll make a second examination of their more complex Evanuris selves, based on clues we're given further in The Masked Empire, Dragon Age: Inquisition, The World of Thedas Volume 2, and the DAI DLC "Trespasser."

The Dalish Origin Story

The Dalish origin story has echoes of many tales and legends from our own world, and most especially of course in the universe of classical myth and fantasy literature. It's beautifully evocative of everything from Greek/Roman, Norse, Arabic, Mesopotamian, Egyptian, and other classical myths and legends, with possible tips of the hat to universes including Tolkien and LeGuin, as well.

As former Bioware writer (and the original Maker of Thedas himself) David Gaider noted years back, when we look at the origin stories of the elves, it's interesting to note that, unlike the tales told by the Chantry about the Maker, the elven gods did not create the universe, or the world, as in most other such myths and stories—the world was here before them. The World and Sun were preexisting. Who created them? We don't know. We do know that the stories of the Old Gods came long after the elven gods, so it wasn't them. As did (cough) stories of the Maker.

I love this little detail, by the way—that the elves either do not speculate on the creation of the universe, they have no theories on what was involved, or, most intriguingly, perhaps the story starts after the beginning because some shred of memory remained to the Dalish—some ghost of memory that, in fact, the gods (the Evanuris) came after the beginnings of things. 

Either way, as the Dalish tell it, when the gods were born, the world was already here. It's worth asking though... what if the Titans, those beings immeasurably large and mysterious, larger than mountains, whose hearts beat with a magic and energy we cannot understand... were in fact the world itself, and the true parents of Elgar'nan and Mythal? 

I think, for myself, that the Titans came first... and the gods came after.

The Births of Elgar'nan and Mythal

In the accepted beginning of the story among the elves, the myths say that in the early moments of time itself, there were only the Sun and the Land. The light of the Sun (his father) upon the Land (his mother) created Elgar'nan, the first of the elven gods, and he rejoiced in his life, in his closeness to the Land, and he celebrated the life he found around him. At first, both of his parents (Sun and Land) loved him, but as the earth brought forth the plants and animals as gifts and companions, the Sun grew jealous of their closeness, and burned away the beautiful birds, beasts, and green places until all that covered the land was ash and dust. In her agony, the Land wept, creating the oceans, rivers and streams, all from the cracking of the land in its torment, leading to the first (and of course, inevitable) clash between the son and the father.

For me, there are inevitable echoes immediately here of the Greek gods and Titans (a sly bit of wordplay since here, too, I believe the Titans may be the parents of the gods, albeit in a completely different way), as well as nods to Joseph Campbell's Hero archetype, as Elgar'nan must, in classical mythological tradition, defeat his own father to attain the throne, exiling Dad to the Abyss (the Void?). Which he does. Elgar'nan's mother pleads with him to reconsider since the world needs the sun for growth, but his vengeance is at first inexorable.

The Dalish believe that Elgar'nan is born when the Sun touches the Land
for the first time. It's a nice counterpoint that Elgar'nan is born of land, while
Mythal herself walks out of the sea.

It's interesting that Mythal, meanwhile, only appears because Elgar'nan refuses to countenance the return of the sun. The world weeps in pain and sadness, creating the oceans, and much like Aphrodite, Mythal then walks out of the sea itself, and calms Elgar'nan's rage enough for him to realize that the sun is essential for the world's survival and healing, also (I believe) setting a clear pattern for their path forward through millennia as rulers of the elven people—a pattern in which Elgar'nan loses his temper or becomes enraged, and then Mythal must act as peacemaker.

Regardless, once he meets his wife, Elgar'nan then realizes his folly, unearths his father (on condition of behavior, to which the Sun agrees), and light is returned to the world. Then together Mythal shapes the sphere of the earth from the light of the Sun and both she and Elgar'nan help it to recover and thrive in its warmth.

While Mythal is generally considered maternal, gentle, just and benevolent, she could also be wrathful, often assumed by the Dalish legends to pursue those objects of her wrath in an unending vengeance. But it's interesting that, overall, she is far more frequently associated, even in myth, with justice, judgment, and wisdom—appropriate to a goddess whose first act was to walk out of the sea and calm the anger of her future husband.

But then she was betrayed, her spirit howling for vengeance and justice into the air itself. And then Mythal met Flemeth, and her rage found a matching rage in a  kindred spirit and a similar and female power. And things got a lot more interesting... for all of Thedas (and beyond)!

Meet the Evanuris (the Dalish Interpretations)

The Dalish view of the Evanuris is what we witness in the earliest chapters of Dragon Age, and in Origins we're treated to a rich array of lovely myths and stories about the Evanuris that are both charming and occasionally disturbing. Which is as it should be. They're myths—simple stories designed to teach, to frighten, to entertain. As with most myths, the stories of the Dalish elven gods are about evening the playing field, about spotlighting the gods' all-too-human failings. So we get stories and fairytales about little glimpses of capriciousness or cruelty, little moments of weakness or corruption or vanity.

We, of course, learn far more about the elven pantheon through Dragon Age: Inquisition and especially into Trespasser, learning that they are the fierce and far more complex Evanuris, and that they may have been darker and, of course, not gods at all.

So let's meet these gods and goddesses, and examine both what they are assumed to be by the Dalish in the beginning, and then at what seem to be the actual facts—the darker revelations and interpretations we gain, and what they may mean both now and in the future.

Mythal (The All-Mother and Great Protector)
As the goddess of love and justice, Mythal walked out of the sea of the world's tears in order to calm the anger of Elgar'nan and return peace and healing to the world. She convinces Elgar'nan to return the sun, creates the Moon, and serves for countless years as the dispenser of law and wisdom to her people. 

While Mythal is generally considered maternal, gentle, just and benevolent, she could also be wrathful, often assumed by the Dalish legends to pursue those objects of her wrath in an unending vengeance. But it's interesting that, overall, she is far more frequently associated, even in myth, with justice, judgment, and wisdom—appropriate to a goddess whose very first act was one of peace.

There are statues of Mythal in many notable locations, from the Temple of Mythal, to the Tomb of the Emerald Knights, to the Tomb of Fairel.

Elgar'nan (God of Vengeance)
Beautiful, fierce, clever, arrogant and formidable, Elgar'nan was born of the moment the sunlight met the Land. He was the mate of Mythal who was also frequently referred to as the All-Father, was called "Eldest of the Sun" and (in a direct echo of Zeus) "He Who Overthrew His Father" stood for fatherhood, vengeance, and leadership of the pantheon alongside Mythal. Sites sacred to Elgar'nan include Elgar'nan's Keep.

Falon'Din (Guide and Friend of the Dead)
As the elven God of Death and Fortune, Falon'Din is the twin brother of Dirthamen, and both are said to be the eldest children of Mythal and Elgar'nan. Falon'Din is said to be the god who shepherds the dead into the afterlife, or Beyond. He is a benign and even positive figure to the Dalish, yet may have been much darker in actuality. Falon'Din delighted in darkness and walked "the shifting paths beyond the Veil" with ease, with his brother Dirthamen beside him. Falon'Din's sacred animal is the owl (also the messenger of Andruil), and the Tomb of the Emerald Knights appears to be linked in some way to Falon'Din and his worshippers. Like all the gods, there is a golden mosaic portrait of him in the Temple of Mythal, but unique to him and his twin, Dirthamen, Falon'Din's eyes are black. Everyone else's eyes are white. Does this reference the ability of both twins to walk the Fade? Or signify something more malevolent?

Dirthamen (Keeper of Secrets)
As the elven god of secrets and knowledge, Dirthamen, the twin brother of Falon'Din, is said to have given the elves the gift of knowledge, teaching them fidelity to family and loyalty. Most famously among the Dalish tales, Dirthamen was separated from his brother Falon'Din, and he went into the Fade to find him. While there, he was set upon by malevolent ravens Fear and Deceit, but Dirthamen was able to master both ravens and compel them to bring him to Falon'Din, and once reunited, they never parted from one another again. Dirthamen was sometimes referred to as the 'reflection' of Falon'Din, and he created the Varterral in order to battle a high dragon that attacked an ancient elven city whose name is now lost. His sacred animals are the ravens and the bear (the only animal in the world to keep the secret he whispered to it). Dirthamen's portrait in the Temple of Mythal depicts an elven figure covering his mouth with crossed hands, and as noted above, his eyes are pitch-black, unique to the portraits of the twins alone. The Lost Temple of Dirthamen is his most notable sacred location in Thedas.

Andruil (Goddess of the Hunt)
Known as "Blood and Force," "Sister of the Moon," and as the "Great Hunter," Andruil is the daughter of Mythal and Elgar'nan, who is known as the fierce and proud goddess of the Hunt. She is the provider of the sacred Vir Tanadhal, the Way of Three Trees (of the Arrow, the Bow, and of the Wood). Her sacred creatures include hawks, owls, and hares. There is a statue of Andruil in the Brecilian Outskirts, in the Dalish Camp in Dragon Age: Origins, and a mosaic portrait of her in the Temple of Mythal (one of the most off-putting, to me, with her arrow strung to her bow, eyes narrowed, and with uneven wavy lines emanating from her figure that to me denote her potential for madness).

Sylaise (Keeper of the Hearth, the Arts, Healing and Song)
Beloved of the Dalish, Sylaise (also known as the Hearthkeeper), is the more peaceable sister of Andruil, as well as the goddess of healing, hearth and home (and who is also, fittingly, the giver of fire). She is the patroness of all domestic arts and taught the elves such talents as the weaving of thread and rope, of the use of herbs and magic for healing, and more. Sylaise's beautiful mosaic in the Temple of Mythal is one of my favorites, and depicts Sylaise as wearing a crown, perhaps of flowers, flowing queenly purple robes, and she is encircled by flowering vines.

June is easily among the most mysterious
and least-known of the Dalish pantheon.

June (God of the Craft)
As the Master of Crafts, June has been referred to as both a brother to Andruil and Sylaise, or also (alternatively) as the husband or mate of Sylaise (based on the later revelations of the Temple of Mythal, I'm voting that he was a sibling to the others, not a mate). June gave the elves the knowledge they needed to thrive, not just to survive, taking the creations of Sylaise and honing them for greater purpose (hunting, smithing, etc.) by teaching them the makings of weapons -- knives, bows and arrows. As his portrait in the Temple of Mythal clearly depicts him before an anvil, as a smith he's also thematically a pretty interesting archetype (tied to the Greek Hephaestus). June's myths and legends are few compared to the others of the Evanuris, and he remains one of the most mysterious and least understood members of the elven pantheon.

Ghilan'nain (Mother of the Halla)
Once a beautiful white-haired elven woman raised up to divinity, Ghilan'nain was reputedly the lover of Andruil. Referred to with reverence as the Mother of the Halla, Ghilan'nain is the goddess of navigation and of the sacred halla, the deer-like creatures beloved to the Dalish, which are both hunted by the Dalish as well as domesticated and used to pull their aravels, or land-ships. 

Ghilan'nain's Grove is found in the Exalted Plains, and Inquisitor Ameridan built a shrine to Ghilan'nain (and Andraste, as a follower of both faiths), inside Razikale's Reach in the Frostback Basin. There is a statue sacred to Ghilan'nain visible in Dragon Age: Origins in the Dalish Elf Origin interlude, as well as in the Brecilian Outskirts. There are also sacred halla statues to be found in the Crow Fens (Exalted Plains), as well as in Crestwood (in the interlude with a romanced Solas).

We find few statues of Ghilan'nain's sacred halla across Thedas, but this is a
beautiful example from a hidden temple in Crestwood, where Solas takes a
romanced Inquisitor for a date (and then stomps her heart into tiny little pieces).

Meanwhile: Is anyone else a little confused on how to reconcile the stories about Ghilan'nain? I mean, in one she's turned into the first halla, and then in the others, she is an elven woman (not of the Evanuris) who is nevertheless able to create marvelous beasts, monsters, and creatures. Andruil approaches her and offers her divinity and godhood, but only if Ghilan'nain will destroy her creations. So Ghilan'nain kills all the flying monsters (except those she gives to Andruil), then drowns most of the sea-creatures she had created (all but those of the deepest abysses), and last of all, kills the beasts she had created on land—all except the halla, her favorite above all of her animal creations. She was then made a goddess, and became the constant companion and lover of Andruil.

So. Yeah. I'm still confused about the timeline here (mythologically speaking).

Fen'Harel (The Dread Wolf)
Now accepted by the Dalish as a word for "trickster," it's interesting to note that The Dread Wolf's title of 'harellan' may have denoted 'rebel' versus 'trickster.' In other words, the "Dread Wolf" may have started out simply as "The Wolf Rebel," or "The Rebel Wolf."

One of the rare shrines to Fen'Harel, found in the outer reaches of the
Exalted Plains. I love the mournful feel of this particular statue motif, which is
rarer than the more zen-looking 'resting wolves' across so much of Thedas.

Fen'Harel is believed by the Dalish to have betrayed both his fellow Evanuris as well as the Forgotten Ones, and tales say that he alone was able to walk between the worlds of both Thedas and the Fade, or Beyond.

The Dalish tales of Fen'Harel are dark with an awareness of mortal corruptibility, of an odd kind of balance. For instance, Fen'Harel is said to have intervened between the good gods and the evil ones alike, tricking them and in one fell swoop imprisoning the lot of them, leaving him alone to rule both the physical and metaphysical worlds of land and Fade. But... hey, he did imprison the evil ones. So, presumably, those left in the world were still better off.

In another tale, Fen'Harel saves a village of children with the chilling and terrible "slow arrow," only after appearing to deliberately allow their parents to die without any attempt at intervention. (Those of you who've read The Masked Empire will understand why this reference always makes me so very sad, since I adored Felassan!)  Meanwhile, in another story, Fen'Harel advises a young man besotted with a beautiful girl at a young noblewoman's funeral to meet with her again by killing the dead girl's surviving sibling (thus recreating the original circumstances of their meeting). Yeah. He's a cheerful guy.

And then there are a variety of the trickster tales usual to figures like Fen'Harel, who whimsically finds himself in a series of dangerous and impossible predicaments, and yet who is able to extricate himself, Brer Rabbit-style, with a great deal of wit and panache, just in the nick of time. Of course, it goes without saying that he usually manages to humiliate his foes in even greater ways, as each of these tales comes to a close.

To me, though, consistently in the Dalish tales of Fen'Harel, while there's, yes, a sense of malevolence, there is also something more—the grim and fatalistic sense that everyone pays—for justice, for joy, for whatever life brings; that, ultimately, no one is exempt from payment. Thus, Fen'Harel could have saved the village without the loss of a single life, but what he seems to be doing instead is saying, "There are no deus ex machinas. Life is simply not fair."

I often wonder what the Dalish Fen'Harel might've thought of beings like desire demon Imshael, for instance, who is so insistent upon the issue of choice and free will, and who in similar ways could be argued to provide a similar sense of warped justice, of the concept that in life, "you reap what you sow."

The reality of the Dread Wolf is however, as we know, far more complicated. Although it may be that even in his real, flesh-and-blood actual form of Solas, his peculiar sense of balance, justice and grim humor is still very much present. Or so I'd like to think.

Next up... I'll take a look at how our knowledge evolves from those original tales of the elven gods, and will take a look at the revelations disclosed of their actual encounters post-Dragon Age: Inquisition and "Trespasser." 

Thanks as always for reading—who's YOUR favorite elven god or goddess? Beyond Mythal and Fen'Harel, those we know best, I've always been fascinated with Andruil.