Ferelden:
Ghosts of the Past
A series of riddle-speaking ghosts waited for them in the next room. Between the six of them, they answered the riddles with relative ease, learning a little more about Andraste with every spirit.
There were two doorways to the next room, both of them blocked by a thin magical shield. It didn't take long for them to figure out that only Elissa and Bethana could pass through. After a few efforts from their comrades to break through the shields, the pair of them exchanged glances.
"Perhaps this trial is ours alone because we're the ones carrying the vials," Bethana suggested.
"We could switch," Alastair said. He grimaced when his fellow warden shook her head.
"We'll be all right. The trials are meant to test us, not hurt us," Elissa said. She offered him a reassuring smile, confident and calm. Then she walked into one room, and Bethana walked into the other.
A single figure waited for her there- a ghost or a memory given shape, she would never be sure. He was older than the last time she'd seen him; the faint lines that gave testament to his often furrowed brow and the weight that he had carried were more familiar to her than her own face. The sight flooded her with longing and loss so potent that she could barely breathe.
"Hello, Beth," he said quietly- warmly, with all of the sweet adoration that had been missing in his younger self. Seeing love in his eyes again broke her heart.
"Cullen," she whispered. Her vision blurred, and she blinked rapidly, trying to clear her tears. "Cullen. You- You're my trial? Is this- are you really-?"
She made her way to him on trembling legs and lifted a hand to touch his cheek. She hesitated, then he brought his fingers to her wrist and instead of resting on her skin, they passed through. He gave her a look of compassion when she flinched at the absence of his touch.
"You know I can't be here, not really. Not alive and unchanged. You can't go back to the way things were nor to who I was."
There was a hint of the Commander in the words, but his tone and his expression were infinitely gentle. He knew exactly how hard it was to be the one who survived. "You have to keep moving forward."
"I don't want to," she admitted, choking back a sob. "I miss you. I don't want to do this without you. I- I'm sorry- for failing, for leaving, for changing everything we were together."
"Beth, no. Don't say that," he pleaded. "You didn't fail. You gave us another chance. You know that."
"Did I?"
Cullen's gaze searched her own. He didn't need whatever powers the Guardian had to see into her soul; he knew her too well. "What are you so afraid of?"
She didn't even try to deny it. "What if I change too much? What if I make things worse? What if- what if you don't fall in love with me this time?"
"Oh, Beth," he breathed. "How could I ever not love you?"
There was so much certainty in his eyes. It made her fall silent, staring; it filled her heart, and finally, finally, her grief began to ease a fraction at a time.
"Do you love him- that broken wreck of a man you met in the tower?"
She frowned immediately at the disparaging tone when he described himself. "Of course I do."
Cullen smiled. "Then give me time. I'll come around. Trust in me. Trust in us." He touched her face, his ghostly fingers skimming over the surface of her cheek. She couldn't feel it, but the memories were so vivid that she could almost imagine she did. She trembled. "Don't hold so tight to this version of me that you can't see what's in front of you or what's ahead. I need to know that you're going to live." He brushed an intangible kiss against her forehead. "But you're not alone. You'll never really be alone."
She stood silent for a long, long moment, soaking in the love that shone from her husband's eyes. The memory was going to have to last her for a long time. Then she took a slow, deep breath and forced herself to nod. "I'll try."
"You'll be all right." He said it like a promise, like he knew. "You're the strongest person I know." The spirit smiled and began to fade. It was far too soon; Bethana felt as though her heart was tearing itself from her chest in an effort to follow him, but she managed to not beg him to stay.
"I love you," she said instead. Then the ghost of him vanished, and she was left with the echoes of his reply.
"And I love you."
He'd told her on their wedding day that everything had been worth it. It was; it would be. Someday she would tell him, the living version that she'd met in that tower, exactly what they had lost and what they had gained, and she had to believe that on that day, they would both believe it was still worth everything. She had to believe.
She might have stood there for hours if she'd been alone. Bethana didn't even notice that the shields at either end of the room had disappeared until Zevran and Leliana walked into the room.
"Beth! Are you all right?" Leliana asked immediately, darting over to Bethana's side in concern. "What happened?"
Bethana swiped at her tear-streaked cheeks. The reassuring smile she attempted came out as a grimace. "I'm fine. Or I will. I don't really want to talk about it. Suffice it to say, I think my heart's been on display enough for one day."
"Elissa's room opened about the same time as yours did," Zevran said. He looked the slightest bit wary of Bethana's emotional state.
"Then we should probably check on her," she said, walking away quickly. She couldn't handle Leliana's hovering at the moment, no matter how kindly meant it was.
They met up with Elissa and the others in the hallway just past their separate rooms. Elissa looked as though she'd shed a few tears as well, though she looked no less focus and determined than before. She didn't seem to mind how close Alistair was standing in his concern. Elissa met Bethana's gaze, and her lips twitched in a grim mimicry of a smile.
"You look ready to move on," the warden commented. She didn't get any argument from Bethana. Elissa led the way to the next door with brisk steps, answering Leliana's concerned question about her well being with a clipped "Fine".
They were attacked the moment they walked into the next room. Bethana pulled a shield around their group instinctively. The spell solidified just in time to deflect an ill-controlled burst of lightning. She was shocked to see that the mage it came from was a hazy, translucent version of herself. Her shield wavered.
"It's the next test," Wynne cautioned. "You must ignore who they look like."
That was easier said than done when the violent spirits took the appearance of her new friends. It was hard to attack any more than half-heartedly when it was an echo of Leliana that shot arrows at her or a spirit that wore Alistair's face that it struck at her with it's sword. Still, it was necessary- the spirits gave them no opportunity to parley- and by focusing on the fact that she had to protect her comrades, the fight was made simpler.
A short time later, the last of their opponents dissolved into mist beneath the 'killing' blow, and the wardens' group was left panting and irritable at what they'd been put through.
"What was that about the trials not being meant to hurt us?" Zevran asked.
Elissa sighed but didn't begrudge him his grumbling as she ushered them through yet another door.
To everyone's immense relief, the next trial required neither fighting nor facing the deepest insecurities and pain within themselves; it was a simple puzzle. Elissa, impressing Bethana with her quickness of mind, solved it easily.
By that point they were expecting another series of tests. It was something of a surprise to find themselves next in the room where the Urn stood in a place of honor atop a tall flight of stairs. A tall statue of Andraste stood over it, flame flickering in its stone hand. They all stopped and stared.
"There it is," Alistair said. "The Urn of Sacred Ashes."
"Unless, of course, it only looks like the Urn. It could be another trap," Zevran pointed out.
But Bethana didn't think that it was. It felt right, somehow, being there. The gentle tug of her heart urged her forward. For all that she had seen many halls decorated with more splendor, with velvet and silk and gold, she had never stood in a place that filled her with such awe.
If the way the words of the Chant of Light tumbled fervently- though quietly- from Leliana's lips, she wasn't the only one who felt that way.
"No," Bethana said without taking her gaze from the Urn. "I think that's really it."
"But how do we get to it?" Alistair asked. Strangely enough, it was only then that Bethana noticed the line of fire that separated them from the stairs. A single alter was all that stood on their side of the fire, and Wynne approached it carefully.
"Cast off the trappings of worldly life," she read from the inscription carved into the top of the alter. "Cloak yourself in the goodness of spirit. King and slave, lord and beggar, be born anew in the Maker's sight."
They were all quiet, thinking over the words until Alistair spoke up again.
"What does that mean? Are we supposed to have a certain cloak? Do we need a king and a slave and a lord and a beggar to cross?" he asked unhappily. "Shouldn't they know by now whether we're worthy or not? I hate riddles."
"Maybe it's more simple than that," Elissa said. "The trappings of worldly life... maybe..." She studied the inscriptions thoughtfully a moment more, then she started unbuckling her armor.
"Wh-What are you doing?!" Alistair demanded, flushing a bright red.
She shot him an amused look. "Casting off my trappings. I think we have to disrobe to get through."
Alistair could only gape at her as the first pieces of her armor came off.
"Now this is a trial I can agree with," Zevran said. He didn't hesitate to follow suit.
Bethana was a little less certain. And a little less comfortable. "But what's the point of that?"
"A test of obedience?" Wynne mused. "Or of faith. Walking through a fire unprotected by armor or even clothing takes trust in Andraste and these trials as well as determination to see them through."
Bethana sighed, not entirely pleased that Wynne made perfect sense. It wouldn't have been so bad if Alistair was the only male there- he was too shy and too gentlemanly to stare- but she was certain that Zevran wouldn't hesitate to look his fill.
Yet they needed the Ashes, not just for Eamon, but for something in the future. She was certain of it.
"Fine," Bethana agreed, beginning to strip with the rest of them. "But I'm trying it in my underthings first. It isn't as though they'd protect me from the fire." They would, however, protect her a bit more from wandering eyes.
"Ah, but it is a shame to hide such beauty," Zevran said. "This is a holy place, no? You are safe here. You should not cover yourself when Andraste herself desires you to be free of trappings."
"Do not blaspheme by turning this into something base, Zevran," Wynne warned lowly. It wasn't often that she sounded dangerous rather than just stern, but her tone was enough to quiet the Antivan's protests.
In the end, they all kept the few last scraps of clothing that protected their modesty and stood before the fire. It was a real fire, not fade-fire or illusion; Bethana could feel the heat of it against her skin. Deciding to step through was not easy, no matter how much she wanted the Ashes. But step through she did, her comrades beside her.
She felt the fire lick her skin, but it didn't burn. There was no pain, only warmth and the sensation of something pure and clean washing over her. Then it was over; the fire was gone and they all stood in front of the stairs, fully clothed in their armor.
Zevran sighed in disappointment. "Well, that was fun while it lasted."
The others had eyes only for the Urn. They quietly, reverently made their way up the stairs.
"These are the earthly remains of Andraste, Prophet and Bride of the Maker," Elissa read the inscription at the base of the Urn.
"I never imagined- I- I have no words to express-" Leliana murmured, sounding breathless. Happy.
Bethana thought she understood how she felt. The trials, even the ones that broke her heart, suddenly seemed worth it. Inexplicably, she felt close to tears.
"I didn't think anyone could succeed in finding Andraste's final resting place, but here... here she is," Alistair said in similarly stunned tones.
"I could not have asked for a greater honor than to be here," Wynne added. There was a great peace written across her face and wove through her words. "I will never forget this feeling."
There was a quiet snort from Zevran, but they all ignored him and for once he decided to keep his comments to himself.
"We-" Elissa had to clear her throat, looking a little overcome herself. "We came a long way. We should get what we came for."
Bethana finally shook herself and stepped forward to help Elissa remove the heavy lid from the Urn. They both hesitated a little then; it felt irreverent to just reach in and grab the Ashes.
The ashes of Andraste, Bethana thought. Maker, I still can't wrap my head around that. Knowing they were here and seeing them, feeling this- it's so different. She laid her palm against the smooth side of Urn. Under other circumstances she would have felt silly talking to ashes with such reverence, but as things were, it felt right. The words came easily.
"We give our thanks to Andraste and the Maker for this gift. Know that we do not take it lightly nor do will we forget the honor of being so blessed," she said quietly. She felt no hesitation then when she dipped the tiny vial the Guardian had given her into the Urn and scooped up a pinch of ashes. Elissa murmured an agreement and followed suit, then they carefully replaced the lid on the Urn.
"We did it," Alistair said. "We actually found the Sacred Ashes. We can save Arl Eamon."
Elissa nodded slowly before finally tearing her gaze from the Urn. The awe on her face faded, replaced once again by familiar determination. "Let's get back to Redcliffe."