Ellana pauses, considering the knife and the apples as they walk along. There are complicated answers here, and questions which will only layer further. Incurably curious or not, one needs processing time with what one learns to better understand, better apply.
What the Veil crashing down means...
"The saddest part," she says, "Is he probably believed the same. As for the Veil... when it first separated the mutable world from the immutable, it held back magic so you had to reach for it instead of be surrounded by it at all times. Not even the spirits want that violence of a return, magic and matter colliding, shaking each other to pieces. Destroying minds, civilizations, repeating the same sundering of thousands of years past, only in present. I don't know that it'd stop echoing through the world that would come after, or that his presumptions on who would triumph or who would not would even hold true. Or how the dwarves would be effected, given their relationship with lyrium and magic."
Untouched by one, manipulators of the second in a way no other race safely manages.
These are all questions that have no clear answers; she doesn't want too clear a view, because by then it would presume the worst to have happened. Educated guesses are good enough, and more important is getting ahead of whatever else he plans to thwart it much as he'd manipulated her into thwarting the Qunari's Dragon's Breath.
Tevinter. What a headache that's already been, but at least she can rely on Dorian, and on her lack of vallaslin to grant her a peculiar sort of anonymity to even those of her own people.
"Surely there's some sort of public bath in the village?" A pause, and she shakes her head. "Or an inn that offers some water for bathing."
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What the Veil crashing down means...
"The saddest part," she says, "Is he probably believed the same. As for the Veil... when it first separated the mutable world from the immutable, it held back magic so you had to reach for it instead of be surrounded by it at all times. Not even the spirits want that violence of a return, magic and matter colliding, shaking each other to pieces. Destroying minds, civilizations, repeating the same sundering of thousands of years past, only in present. I don't know that it'd stop echoing through the world that would come after, or that his presumptions on who would triumph or who would not would even hold true. Or how the dwarves would be effected, given their relationship with lyrium and magic."
Untouched by one, manipulators of the second in a way no other race safely manages.
These are all questions that have no clear answers; she doesn't want too clear a view, because by then it would presume the worst to have happened. Educated guesses are good enough, and more important is getting ahead of whatever else he plans to thwart it much as he'd manipulated her into thwarting the Qunari's Dragon's Breath.
Tevinter. What a headache that's already been, but at least she can rely on Dorian, and on her lack of vallaslin to grant her a peculiar sort of anonymity to even those of her own people.
"Surely there's some sort of public bath in the village?" A pause, and she shakes her head. "Or an inn that offers some water for bathing."