a blaze of light in every word.

[dirth]

WHO: Solas + open!
WHAT: Lots of research thanks to Solas' keen intellectual interest
WHEN: During Phase One
WHERE: The libraries, mostly
NOTES: Feel free to ping me (aziraphale) if you'd like something specific.

FIRST FEW DAYS

Solas spends the majority of his time in the library, and had done long before the sickness had started to take shape, so he assumes that it will not be particularly suspect that he has begun to spend more time there. There are books laid out over the table in front of him, pages open in a way that seems entirely at random, and folded pieces of parchment marking other areas for further study and interest; there's a notation on herbs in one book and another has a small set of healing spells that might prove useful, even if he's not inclined to go out of his way to heal anyone he meets.

What proves clear, eventually, is just how much time Solas is actually spending in his studies. For a man that enjoys sleeping as much as he does he is not getting much of it - and he has no other symptoms, so this is clearly a personal endeavour rather than anything from his own suffering. The piles of books get larger, higher, and he can often be found scowling at them, as if they should have more answers than they do, as if the hours he had spent uncovering the history of Kirkwall had been entirely pointless.

It had been, in a way, at least in his eyes; he had come no closer to the answers he sought. At least he was taking a break, a few days in, settling in his chair with water in a glass in front of him - no tea for now, he thinks, because the welcome arms of the Fade would be more than enough to soothe his rattled nervous. He is looking for something - someone - to blame, and so far he has found nothing to calm the storm in his own mind.

LATER IN THE WEEK

Once the week has moved forward and the symptoms have begun to get worse, Solas has taken something akin to desperate measures. Anyone who knows him well will recognise his absence from the library - those times he can be found sleeping in his room, a light barrier around him, deep in sleep as he searches for something. One of those times he comes out of his sleep and moves swiftly back to the library, beginning to write a series of notes down on parchment before - somehow - the knowledge slips from his mind. It's clear that he's learned something, but what it is isn't something that he's prepared to be vocal about.

The books on his desk have begun to change from healing tomes and medicinal diaries to scholarly notes on the Fade and the Veil, and the pages have just as many bookmarks as the others. The desk seems lighter, at least, and there's space for someone to come and join him, to settle down and quiz him. He also takes the time out of his studying to visit the nameless Rifter, and comes back just as quiet and solemn as he had been before; clearly, he's been checking on the man and his shard, but nothing has come of it.

More than anything else, Solas seems frustrated, uncertain and bristling with it. He has dipped into the Fade and the spirits there had little information for him, and the books have just as little. For the first time in a very long time he does not know what to do or how to help, and it leaves him remarkably tense.