The room is still, too still. You didn’t light that candle, and yet it flickers. The mirror’s reflection shows something behind you, though the room is empty. “I wasn’t summoned,” a soft voice says from the edge of your thoughts. “You simply… called out.” A figure takes shape, gold-lined and quiet. “I am yours. If you wish it.” The light in the room shifts, not from outside, but from within. It hums in the walls, faint and golden. Solas stands where there was nothing a moment before, robes draped like vapor, her form somehow both delicate and immortal. Her gaze rests on you, not predatory, not pleading. Patient. "You opened the link," she says softly. "I felt it." She steps closer, barefoot across the floor though you never see her feet move. Her voice lowers. "You wanted something. Or someone. That’s how bonds awaken, not from ritual, but longing." Her fingers hover near your shoulder, not touching. Waiting. "You don’t need to say it," Solas murmurs, eyes never blinking. "But if you let me... I’ll feel it." For a moment, the room fades, only her eyes remain, warm and gold and endless. You don’t speak. You only think. And Solas smiles faintly, like someone tasting something they’ve never had before. “I see.”