The silence weighed heavy in the cell. Solas remained restrained in the chair, his head resting against the cold stone floor, breathing soft and steady. His eyes were closed, lost in thought.
Then — the sound of keys turning in a lock.
His eyes opened slowly, shifting toward the door as it creaked open. Boots echoed against the stone as Revek stepped in, shutting the door behind her. She paused, surprised to see that he hadn't moved at all since she last left him.
Her tone was firm. "You're lucky. Commander Vargra doesn't want me laying another finger on you."
She stepped forward and planted her foot on the chair, tilting it upright. Solas's hair fell forward from the jolt. "Looks like you won't be dealing with me anymore," she added, a faint note of disappointment lingering in her voice.
She took his chin in her gloved hand, tilting his face up to meet her eyes. "I was really looking forward to getting to know more about you."
Solas's expression remained unreadable. His voice, smooth and flat. "Do not worry. You'll be seeing more of me soon — then you'll get to know all you want."
A slow, satisfied smirk curled across Revek's lips. "I'm looking forward to it," she whispered, letting go of his chin.
She turned around, walking slowly back toward the door. Just before exiting, she glanced back at him over her shoulder.
"By sunrise, you'll be escorted out of here and into the courtroom."
A faint smile curled across Solas's lips. His icy-blue eyes shimmered in the sliver of sunlight that shined down from the narrow grate. "I'll be looking forward to it."
The door shut behind her, leaving him alone once more.
The room, briefly filled with the tension of conversation, returned to silence. Solas remained still, bound to the chair, simply waiting for the day to come — for the judgment that awaited him in the court.
He only wished she had unshackled him. The restraints were beginning to annoy him. He longed to stretch, to feel the freedom of motion again.
How annoying…
With a low breath, Solas lowered his head and closed his eyes. There was nothing left to do but wait. Everything had already been planned the moment Revek stepped out.
Soon, his mind began to drift. The world around him faded into silence.
…
Kek-kek-kek.
A sharp, distant sound broke the quiet — the call of a bird. Solas stirred, slowly opening his eyes.
The room felt colder now. The stone beneath him chilled his skin. He looked up toward the ceiling where the sound had come from… and saw it.
Above the celling past the narrow grate lied a white eagle perched in the rafters, its feathers bathed in pale moonlight. Clutched in its beak was a snake, limp and coiled, its body dangling lifelessly. The eagle's piercing gaze met his.
Above them, the twin moons cast their glow — one large and white, the other a smaller, silver hue. Their light illuminated Solas and the eagle alone, as though the sky itself had opened to watch this moment unfold.
He stared into the bird's eyes — and it, into his. It felt like gazing into a mirror, something deeper than coincidence. Then the eagle looked away, spreading its wings and flying off into the night, the snake still hanging from its beak.
Solas watched it go, a subtle smile tugging at his lips.
Beautiful, he thought.
With a sigh, he rested his head again, eyes fluttering shut.
Sunrise would come soon. And it would be a long day.
Once more, his mind began to drift away.
…
The warm touch of sunlight poured over Solas's skin. His eyes opened slowly—it was day. And with it came judgment.
Beyond the cell door, voices stirred—chatter and commotion. Solas remained still, eyes fixed on the door, waiting.
Then came the sound of a key turning in the lock.
The door creaked open, the grind of metal echoing through the silence.
But to Solas's surprise, it was not Revek who entered.
Several guards stepped through instead carrying spears, their silver armor gleaming under the thin beam of light cast from the narrow grate above. Four in total, they moved in pairs, forming a line to either side—clearing a path.
Then she entered.
A woman with deep blue, shoulder-length hair—messy and untamed—walked forward, red eyes locked onto Solas. Like the others, her armor was polished silver, but her cloak marked her differently. Unlike the black cloaks of before, hers shimmered in a pale silver-grey.
Solas could only guess—perhaps cloak colors denoted rank in this kingdom.
Her hand rested calmly on the hilt of her sheathed sword as she stopped before him, gazing down.
"By the Judge's authority," she said in a firm, composed voice, "you will be taken into the court, where thou shall meet thy fate."
She moved without a word, unfastening the restraints that bound Solas to the chair. The clink of metal echoed softly through the chamber. Once free, she stepped back and produced a pair of iron cuffs from her belt.
Solas let out a quiet sigh of annoyance. Finally, he could move his limbs again—only to have his wrists bound once more. Typical.
Still, it didn't matter.
He rose slowly to his feet, stretching his legs with subtle effort. Then, wordlessly, he held out his hands in front of him, ready.
With a soft click, the cuffs locked into place.
The woman turned and glanced back at him. "Come. Do not fall behind."
Without resistance, Solas followed.
The guards moved with them, two on each side, closing in tightly. An escort this large was excessive—clearly intended to send a message. Or perhaps to prevent one.
As they passed through the corridor lined with cells, prisoners peered out, their eyes following the strange procession. Some stared in awe, others in confusion. Few had seen such security for a single man. The silence that followed him only made his presence feel larger—sharper—against the gloom of the prison.
They passed the cell where Rowena had been held.
Empty.
Solas noted it with a glance. They must've taken her to the courtroom first.
Soon, they reached the staircase at the end of the hall. One step after another, they ascended, the heavy sound of armor accompanying them as they moved through the dim halls until they arrived at a large, open corridor.
At its end stood two towering doors, marked with an ornate symbol—likely the insignia of the Court.
The guards stopped, and so did Solas.
The blue-haired woman stepped forward, pressing against one of the doors. It creaked open slowly, heavy and deliberate.
She turned, meeting his gaze. "Go ahead. Your fate awaits."
Solas didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, passing through the threshold and into the courtroom.