<ul><span style="font-family: New Times Roman;"><span style="font-style: italic">''STOP IT''</span> Came his voice; groaning with disappointment. Azure eyes widened, staring at the woman with mild annoyance. <span style="font-style: italic">''Donâ€™t you dare, <span style="font-weight: bold">woman</span>!''</span> But she did not hear his warning; a stubborn child. <br/><br/>Solas closed his eyes and looked away as the female conversed with her ghosts. He had noticed the child, watching him yet ignored her pleas. It was way too much for him to take. <span style="font-style: italic">''How dare you summon anything before me without <span style="font-weight: bold">my</span> consent?''</span> Breathing heavily, the once Archangel turned his form around and faced the woman, furious. <br/><br/>A firm hand snatched her to him by the arm. Soft yet firm lips brushed against her earlobe for a second as he added, taking into her scent. <span style="font-style: italic">''I do <span style="font-weight: bold">not</span> care about your name.''</span> He hissed between a set of perfect white teeth. He then pulled away from her, eyes burning into her blue pools as he let go of her arm. <span style="font-style: italic">This is something I have not done in ages. And why...? Why in your child's sake should I now?''</span><br/><br/>A mixture of anger and sadness was overtaking his senses as he faced the ghosts. He began to march toward them  until he neared the child, stopped short before the ghost and slowly he knelt down on one knee; ghostly pleas buzzing in his ears. Whilst eyes rested upon the woman's presumably child's ghost, Solas regarded this last one with a profound interest as he spoke to her mother. He's been there, done that. Cases were different but we're speaking of ages long gone. <span style="font-style: italic">''Are you willing to take the risk, Millicent?''</span> He asked, a neutral tone of voice emitting from his vocals. <span style="font-style: italic">''If you're seeking my help, you must realize that it won't be that easy. Others might suffer, and <span style="font-weight: bold">your</span> chances of survival are weak. You would think you know all about me, but you're highly mistaken, my friend. I need time to gather my strength. Need I say more? As for now...''</span> <br/><br/>An open right palm rose to chest level, facing the child. A milky-white substance darted forth from his fingertips, coalesced in mid air before solidifying into the shape of a sphere, no larger than the size of a golf ball. It floated toward its target, forming mist around the ghostly figure. Solas closed his eyelids and began to whisper in a language no other race can comprehend or decipher. A loud and aggressive, ear shattering rumble shook the ground under their feet, the roaring echoing through the cove.  Bones began to form and then tendons grew on them now sculpted bones; muscles formed and then flesh covered the subject. <br/><br/>Suddenly, mist began to evaporate into thin air leaving a painful flash of brilliant, pure light in its wake. Five rings made of a pure, Empyrea light surrounded the now flesh and bones child.<br/><br/>Shaking violently from the inside, Solas' eyelids fluttered open and sheer-white, cataract-like eyes shifted toward the woman. <span style="font-style: italic">''For now, I can only give you this. The Uncle is another story.''</span> His eyes claimed back their natural color and a tiny smile curled into his lips as he took the child's hand in his own, feeling warmth emitting from her skin. He raised his other free toward the mother, inviting her to join her daughter. <br/><br/>Little did she know, than in exactly 30 days, The Fallen Archangel will have to come back to claim the soul. Heâ€™s no ghost-buster, and that was the only way he could free the child as requested. Now, now, wasn't that what the mother was asking for? Help comes with a price.</span><br/></ul>