◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ — Of course he thought this was Thedas! The alternative was simply beyond belief. He refused to start down that road, questioning this and that and these and those. Vexation leapt across his brow, tugging at the eyes’ corners and prodding at his jowls. Damn that elf and his mind games.
Dorian set his jaw and promptly tossed his head to the left. If Solas wished to ignore him, then two could play at that game.
But Solas persisted and Dorian recalcitrant attitude began to waver.
With hesitation in his voice, he murmured a soft, ❝ No, I haven’t. ❞
❝ Have you one? A Servant, with a capital S, I mean. ❞
He hid a wince. Had he a more delicate means of phrasing it, Dorian would have done so. Solas was rather stingy if and when his being of Tevinter came to the forefront of their discussions.
Dorian needn’t have worried. As tasteless as the terms might be, Solas understands the need for consistency in discussing this world and its eccentricities.
“I’ve been summoned to this world as a ‘Caster-class’ Servant.” He could go into great detail about how his magic has been amplified, how he must obey his Master’s Command Seals, how there’s eons worth of lore surrounding this mythical Holy Grail, but Solas chooses to remain succinct until prompted. “All you need take from that is that I’ve been entrusted with the safety of a young woman named Ann Takamaki. Should you happen upon her, I hope you’ll behave?”