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Chapter 20: You Are Not Alone
Loghain ran a hand through his hair as he listened to Rendon Howe explain his most recent campaign. "I was making progress until Bann Erikson flanked my forces, declaring his allegiance with the rebels. Fortunately, my army was able to fall back with minimal casualties, and the next battle ended more favorably. Still, I'll need reinforcements before I can move further into Dragon's Peak. I'm… so glad, you saw reason on our funding issue."
Loghain felt a stirring of disgust in his heart as he thought about what was probably beginning in the Alianage, but he forced his attention to other matters. "Has there been any word of the Wardens?" he asked grimly.
"Well… no," Howe said, his voice cautious. Loghain's temper had been becoming shorter and shorter as this pointless resistance continued, making any bad news extremely unwelcome. "However, I do have a plan."
"Do enlighten me, Howe," Loghain grumbled, wondering how many assassins the man would send out this time.
As if reading his mind, Howe spoke quickly. "The time for outside forces has ended, my lord," he said. "No, we'll have to send proper soldiers this time." Loghain opened his mouth to point out that they simply couldn't afford to have a team of crack troops traipsing aimlessly around the countryside, but Howe continued. "As for finding them, I spoke to one of my mages to see if their magic held any answers."
"And…" Loghain said, his thoughts racing.
"And the answer is quite simple. The mages cannot track the Wardens, but the Templar can." Howe's smile widened. "It seems that one of the Wardens used to be a member of the Circle of Magi, and thus has a phylactery here in Denerim."
"I doubt that the Templar will be willing to simply had such a thing over to us," Loghain growled. 'Especially if they're taking their cues from Orlais, like they were during the war.'
"Well, I never said that we would ask them for it," Howe said, smiling. "In fact…" he glanced around, as if to make sure that no one was listening. This caused Loghain to scoff, if there was a spy listening, Howe had already basically admitted considering theft from the Chantry. "I have already acquired the phylactery of one William Surana, leader of the Wardens."
Loghain felt the blood drain from his face. "You didn't think to inform me of this before you acted?" Loghain said, his voice hard.
"The opportunity presented itself, and had I waited, the Templar might have discovered the flaw in their defense." Howe's eyes hardened. "Besides, the Warden has wronged me personally. He murdered my son."
Loghain nodded, he remembered when news had come from Highever about the death of Thomas Howe. He had never seen Rendon Howe that angry.
"Very well," he conceded. "See it done. However, in the future you are to inform me before making a decision of this magnitude."
Howe bowed before turning on his heel and marching out of the room. Loghain leaned back in his chair, rubbing his weary eyes.
"I need a drink," he muttered, before cursing as he remembered how hard wine was to come by these days, as he diverted more and more gold towards the war effort. He would have to do without for a while longer.
Heaving himself out of his seat, he decided to go see how his daughter was doing; he hadn't spoken to her in a while. He quickly made his way through the palace, nodding to the various guards he met on the way. Finally, knocked on the door to the antechamber of the Royal Quarters.
"Come in, Father," Anora called from within.
Blinking, Loghain stepped in, "How did you know it was me?" he asked. Anora gave a small smile as she looked up from the scroll she had been studying.
"If it had been anyone else, the guards would have knocked for you," she said. Her eyes hardened slightly as she studied him. "What's wrong, Father?"
"Whatever do you mean, Anora?" Loghain said. Anora shook her head.
"Your face, Father. I'd be surprised if anyone didn't know something was bothering you. Besides, you only come here when you want to talk to me in private, something you usually do when the rest of the world is driving you crazy"
Loghain chuckled. "As observant as ever, dear," he said. "To answer your question… What do you think of Howe?"
"The man is a snake, and I don't trust him as far as I can throw him," Anora said immediately. "What has he done this time?"
"You're better off not knowing," Loghain said. Anora sighed.
"Really, Father, I still think it's a horrible idea to keep him around. He's far to concerned with how far he can advance his own agenda, and not interested enough in the good of Fereldan." Loghain nodded wearily.
"I know, Anora, I know," he said. "However, he is one of my strongest allies. I need him to stabilize Fereldan."
"Still, I think it would be better to find a different ally, one that is less likely to stab you in the back when it's most convenient for him."
"But is there anyone else?" Loghain asked. "At least Howe is predicable: he wishes to advance himself, first and foremost. So long as I can continue to predict which decisions his ambition will drive him towards, I can stay one step ahead of him."
Anora sighed as she looked back at her paper. "I pray that you are right, Father. I pray you are right."
Zelda spun around at the sound of the door booming shut, her hand flying to Faithful's hilt. So caught up in the closing door, it took her a moment to realize that she was alone.
"Leliana? William? …Sten?" Zelda said, looking around wildly. No one answered her.
"Welcome, young Templar," a quiet voice said behind her. Turning, she saw an armored figure, pale and transparent. Its armor was old, and had an open faceplate. His face was open, calm, and accepting, a graying beard showing age and experience.
"Who… are you?" Zelda whispered, her hand falling back to her side.
The figure chuckled slightly. "I am the Guardian, Zelda Cousland," he said, "Long have I waited for the faithful to come to honor Andraste."
"So the Urn is here?" Zelda said. "But where are the others?"
"They are here, but not here," The Guardian said, smiling mysteriously. "To them, their reality is the only one, just as to you, you're reality is the only one."
"Are we in the Fade?" Zelda asked warily.
"No."
After a moment, Zelda asked. "What must I do now?"
"Seek the Urn, through the Gauntlet, young Templar." The Guardian said. "First you shall face a Trial, and then you shall go through a Meeting. If you can withstand this, then you shall reach the Urn, and be reunited with your friends."
"Very well, Guardian," Zelda said, nodding. "What is the Trial?"
"You'll see, young Templar, you'll see," the Guardian said, smiling again. "But first, a question, if you do not mind."
"Go ahead," Zelda said.
"Many years ago, you left your family home. Recently, you returned to find it sacked, your family murdered." Zelda's breath left her lungs in a hiss at the figure's words. "Did you fail your family, Zelda Cousland?"
"I… I don't know…" Zelda whispered.
"There are many branches of fate and time, each influenced by the choices we made," the Guardian continued coolly. "Did your decision to leave your family doom them to die?"
"…No," Zelda said finally. "If I had stayed, there would have been nothing I could have done. I wish I had sought to reconcile with them sooner, but my leaving was not the cause of their death."
The Guardian nodded, smiling again. "You speak logic and reason, but the heart does not always feel such things. No matter, you may pass."
Zelda stepped past the Guardian and through the door, still shaking slightly. She walked into another misty room. After the door had close, the mist cleared, revealing a stunning sight.
A forest clearing greeted her, like any of the dozens in Fereldan. Her attention was quickly drawn to a pair of figures near the center: one armored man lying on the ground and another, wearing robes, kneeling over him.
"Come on, come on, hold, damnit!" the kneeling mage muttered, light playing across his hands as he waved them over the fallen soldier, which Zelda realized was a Templar with a deep rent in his armor. "Why isn't this working?!"
A sudden sound came from the other side of the forest, and Zelda tried to move forward to help somehow, but her feet were held firm.
The mage looked up. "I don't have time for this," he murmured, his voice somehow carrying all the way to where Zelda was standing. Reaching back, he grabbed a knife from his belt.
"What…" Zelda breathed, her eyes widening.
Clenching his teeth, the mage drew a quick slash across his arm, causing blood to well up. His eyes shone a dim red as the liquid rose in a mist before laying itself across the wound, closing it at last. The Templar's ragged breath smoothed, and he seemed to sleep peacefully.
Blood magic.
"Hold, maleficar!" Zelda called, her legs working again as she sprinted forward, drawing her weapons. At that moment, she wasn't in the ruins of a holy temple, she was simply a Templar faced with her natural enemy.
Jumping, the mage looked up from healing his own injury. His eyes were wide and fearful.
"This… this isn't what it looks like!" he babbled, "I had no other choice! He would have died!"
"Blood magic is never an option!" Zelda snarled. "Besides, that cursed magic cannot heal, only destroy."
"It can heal!" the mage said, pointing. "I just proved it! It can heal better than any magic, since it is born of life! If you would just understand…"
"My orders are clear, maleficar. No mercy for those who defy the Maker's most basic law." Zelda said, taking a step forward.
"Though we were shown nothing, we shall show restraint, for the Maker exists for all!" the mage shouted, holding his hands up. "That's in the Chant of Light!"
Zelda did recognize the line, but it had always been a minor point, one overshadowed by clear mandates like 'They shall be named Maleficar,' and 'They shall find no rest in this world.' She raised her sword slowly.
'But is it so clear cut?' a small voice whispered in the back of her mind. 'You have seen that, sometimes, there are shades of grey.'
Zelda hesitated. The mage was offering no resistance, simply crying quietly as he stared pleadingly at her.
She had been drilled for this moment, prepared for it, told that when it came, that she could show no mercy. But still, she hesitated.
"I could do nothing," William's voice whispered, anger and hurt burning in every word. "All I could do was lay under the cot and watch her get murdered."
"All men are the work of our Maker…"
Faithful fell slowly back to her side. Zelda stepped around the mage and crouched next to the Templar, still keeping an eye on the mage for any deceit. The wound was in fact gone, though it had clearly been quite deep from the amount of blood staining the leather under-armor. Pulling the man's eyes open, she saw that it was a simple, human brown.
"Can I… go…" the mage whispered.
"No," Zelda said, swallowing her pride. "Remain here, watch over this Templar. Your life hinges on his. If he is still alive, then I won't mention your use of blood magic. If he is not…" Zelda left the threat hanging.
The mist returned, and when it faded, Zelda was standing in an empty room.
"Well done, Zelda Cousland," the Guardian said, appearing out of nowhere. "Sometimes, doctrine cannot be allowed to overcome truth. You have passed your Trial, now continue to your meeting." With that, he vanished again.
Zelda took a breath before stepping towards the next door. Her eyes widened as she beheld the next room she walked into. It was one she hadn't seen in nine years.
As she stepped shakily into the armory of Highever Castle, she felt herself shaking. Memories, both good and bad, came rushing back. Before she could gather herself, a light cough came from her left. Spinning, she saw an older woman watching quietly, a soft smile on her face.
"Mother…" Zelda breathed, hardly daring to believe her eyes.
"My little girl," Eleanor Cousland said, holding her arms out as she stepped forward. "It's been far too long."
Zelda felt tears prick at her eyes as she ran forward, embracing her mother. Sobbing, she was barely able to choke out "Mom… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
Eleanor hummed quietly, rubbing Zelda's back. "Hush now, dear," she breathed into her daughter's ear. "There is no need for tears here."
"But… I left you…" Zelda whimpered, pressing her face into her mother's shoulder. "I abandoned you…"
"I was not blameless in the matter, sweetheart," Eleanor said, pulling back enough to look Zelda in the eye. "I never trusted you enough to tell you why I was doing what I did. I forgot that you had only ever heard of the glory of war, fighting for a noble cause that you believe in." She smiled sadly.
"Should I have stayed?" Zelda whispered.
"That, my dear girl, is a difficult question, and one that I cannot truly answer. Only you can decide whether the good that came from your joining the Templar was worth the pain." As Zelda opened her mouth, Eleanor shushed her gently. "I can, however, give my opinion."
She took a deep breath. "It is often said that everything happens for a reason, that the Maker moves in mysterious ways. You're right in saying that, if you had stayed, you would have been killed by Howe's men. Leaving saved your life, allowing the Cousland line to live on." Zelda nodded slowly. "And then there's the affect you've had during the Blight. Your strength has aided William and the rest of the team many times. It is possible that, without you, they might not have survived Kinloch, let alone the other challenges they have faced."
"So… you think it was worth it?" Zelda asked. Eleanor nodded.
"As I said, I cannot make your decision for you, but yes, my daughter, I believe it was worth it." She gently placed her hand under her daughter's chin. "And I am so, so proud of you, Zelda. Despite the hardship you have face, you have stayed true to yourself. Rather than blindly follow what you have been told, you are willing to make hard choices. There are too many zealots in the world already."
The pair stood in silence for a time before Zelda slowly pulled away. "I… I should go. My role is not finished here." She felt a tear leak from her eye.
"Yes, dear," Eleanor said. "But before you go, I have something for you." She pulled a silver pendant out of a pouch on her belt. It was a beautiful thing, stamped with the Cousland crest. Written around the edge of one side were the words 'Forge your own path.' "Please, keep this in memory of your father and I. You may be the last of the Cousland family on Thedas, but we watch over you still."
"Yes, mother," Zelda said, gently taking the pendant and putting it around her neck.
The room was filled with a mist.
Leliana's daggers left her sheath within seconds of the door slamming behind her. She also noticed immediately that everyone else had vanished.
"What's going on? Will, where are you?" she muttered to herself, spinning slowly in place so as to scan the room. Coincidently, she was facing the door further into the ruin when a mysterious figure appeared.
"Sister Leliana Marila, I bid you welcome," the see-through man said, stepping forward in his clinking armor.
"Where is everyone?" Leliana immediately demanded, dropping into a slight crouch. The figure smiled.
"Protective and caring as ever, I see," he said. "Do not worry, they are safe, and making their way deeper, where you will all be reunited. I am the Guardian, and I shall be watching you all."
"How did this happen?" Leliana asked, looking around again.
"The Urn has irrevocably changed this place," the Guardian said. "To gain access to it, you must pass through the Gauntlet, which consists of a Trial and a Meeting. If you wish to see the others again, you must withstand that Gauntlet." He raised a hand. "But before you go, a question, if I may?"
"Sure," Leliana said.
The Guardian's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "You claim that the Maker spoke to you, an honor that only one before has had. Do you claim to be equal to Andraste? Or did you have an alternative motive?"
"What do you mean?" Leliana asked slowly.
"When you were a Bard, you were respected. In Lothering, you were one of many." His meaning was clear.
"You think that I… I just made it up!?" Leliana asked, her face flushing. "I do believe that the Maker sent that dream. For what purpose, I do not know, but I have faith that he sent it for a reason."
The Guardian smiled. "Your faith is noted." He stepped aside from the door. "You may pass to your Trial, Leliana Marila. May the Maker guide your path."
Taking a breath, Leliana stepped through the door into the mist. As it cleared, she found herself in a room much like the one she had left. There were two human shapes, though they did not have faces, and seemed to be comprised of smoke.
"Only one of the doors will lead you on," the Guardian whispered, standing beside Leliana. "One of the shapes before you is lying, the other is truthful, and you may only ask one question. Chose your question wisely." With that, the Guardian stepped back.
Leliana gaped at the pair. She hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly hadn't been this. Looking between the two, she tried to distinguish them in any way, but it was impossible. Several times, she opened her mouth to ask a question, only to realize that it wouldn't solve their problem.
'What do I do?' she thought desperately. Her eyes flicked from one shape to another, then finally to the Guardian.
Suddenly, the answer became clear.
"Which door leads me on?" she asked the Guardian deliberately.
The Guardian smiled broadly. "The left one," he said simply. "Well done. Though there are those in this world that will hide among the truthful, seeking to deceive you, the Maker's light will always shine through." He bowed his head. "You may proceed."
The shapes vanished, leaving Leliana free to go on.
A warm fire crackled under the mantle of an opulent room. A large armchair was sitting in front of the flames, and Leliana could see a hand from her position.
"Come in, dear, and close the door," a grandmotherly voice said. "These old bones can't handle too much cold."
"Lady Cecila…" Leliana whispered, making her way into the room. She hadn't set foot in this room for so long…
"Leliana, dear," Lady Cecila said. "It's so good to see you again."
"I… but… how…" Leliana asked, causing the old woman to chuckle.
"My dear, this is the Gauntlet, the final room before the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Surely you don't think that the normal rules apply here." Her eyes twinkled as she studied the red-haired girl. "Come closer, dear, let me touch you."
Leliana meekly obeyed, holding out a hand carefully. Lady Cecilia gently took it in both her own, rubbing it.
"There is strength in these hands," she breathed, her eyes closed. "Strength, and pain as well." She smiled sadly, looking up at Leliana again. "Much has happened since we last spoke."
"I…" Leliana said, not sure what to say. Standing here, she remembered every sin, every terrible thing she had done as a Bard. She started to look away.
"Don't dear," Lady Cecila whispered. "You need not hid from me."
"But I…" Leliana started, but a squeeze on her hands silenced her.
"Yes, you have done things that I would have preferred you didn't. If I had known in life that you would become a Bard, I would have never let you anywhere near the Arts." She smiled. "That is not, however, because I am disappointed in you."
As Leliana blinked, Lady Cecilia laughed. "Dear, I would have stopped you because I know how that game ends. I have seen dozens of Bards die, and I didn't want that for a sweet girl like you. But you've surprised me. Trials that would have broken other women; betrayal, torture, pain, you survived these things. Survived, and become stronger for it."
"What do you mean?" Leliana asked.
Lady Cecilia chuckled again. "My dear, you know exactly what I mean," she said. "Rather than give in to despair or hate, you moved on, letting your gentle nature shine through the masks you created. And then, you went further, willingly putting yourself at risk to aid complete strangers. No matter what dreams you had, that took courage." Her smile then became teasing. "And then, despite the betrayal that resulted the last time you opened your heart, you were willing to love again, though I must say you made a far better choice this time."
"L…Lady Cecilia!" Leliana cried, blushing.
"Oh, it's nothing to be ashamed of, dear," the old woman said, laughing again. "He's a good boy, if a bit high-strung. I think he needs you."
"What do you mean?" Leliana asked.
"He cares about you to, you know. You're the only one he can confide in, the one he allows through his barriers. Take care of him, dear, won't you?"
Leliana smiled. "I will, as much as he'll let me."
"I wouldn't worry about that, dear. The Gauntlet is enough to shake even the most solid barriers." Lady Cecilia glanced up. "Leliana, it has been wonderful speaking to you again, but I think it's time for you to go on, your friends need you. But I have a gift for you before you go."
Letting go of Leliana's hand, Lady Cecilia picked up a small box that had been lying on the table beside her. She offered it to Leliana, who opened it. Inside lay a golden insignia, round with leaves around the edge. In the center was a shining sun.
"Listen to your heart…" Leliana whispered, reading the words around the edge.
"…for it will guide you onwards," Lady Cecilia finished as the mist engulfed the room.
Sten stood stock-still as the door closed. He did not call out for his disappearing allies, mealy braced himself for the inevitable attack.
When the armored ghost arrived, Sten's eyes narrowed, his hands tightening around Asala's grip.
"Be at ease, Sten Ari-Tor," the figure said in perfect Qunari. Sten's eyes widened, he hadn't heard that name in a long, long time. "Your surprise is well founded," the pale warrior said, smiling. "I see many things, and know many secrets. I am the Guardian."
"Where is my kadan?" Sten growled, his purple eyes narrowing.
"As close as a breath, yet as far as can be. To find him, you must go on," the Guardian said.
"Then I shall go on," Sten said without hesitation.
"Yes, but first, I must ask a question. When you came to this land, you killed an entire family, and were called a monster because of it." The Guardian took a breath. "Do you consider it a failure that you have presented the Qunari in such a light?" Sten nodded.
"I have never denied that I failed."
The Guardian bowed his head. "You speak wisdom, child of Par Vollen, and show a desire to repent. Go on, and face your Trial and your Meeting. May your Role be well lived, Sten."
"And yours, Guardian," Sten said automatically. He stepped through the door that the Guardian had been blocking.
As the mist cleared from the room, Sten found himself facing a dark, bloodstained image of himself across a house he knew all too well: the bodies of the family he had slaughtered scattered through the room. Sten narrowed his eyes grimly as he raised Asala, ready to cut down this dark doppelganger.
No words were spoken as the pair came together, their blades meeting again and again.
Sten quickly realized that they were perfectly matched, unsurprising, since this test seemed to be against himself. Even when he sought to exploit known flaws in his technique, his other half was able to defend itself.
Sten took a long step back to assess the situation, and was surprised when the doppelganger did the same. After a few quick tests, he realized that it would always do some variation on whatever he did.
Defeating it in battle would not be an option, since it was him. No, he would have to surmount this challenge by some other method.
He watched the other Sten quietly, watching its motions. Every time he tried to step past it, it would move to block him, but did not seek to engage. It clearly wanted something from him, but what?
"What is it you seek?" he asked. The figure paused before making a sound that Sten had only heard once before: from a Serabaas. A quick examination confirmed that its lips were sewn together.
Meanwhile, the figure had been pointing around at the various bodies. It took Sten a minute to realize what it wanted.
"They have not been laid to rest?" he asked, and the figure nodded. Though the Qunari did not pay any particular reverence to the body after the soul had departed, there was a prayer that would allow the soul to move on. Bowing his head, Sten intoned the words.
As he did so, the darkness clouding the figure opposite him fade away, briefly leaving a pure, uninjured reflection of Sten. It then vanished along with the room.
"The past can be a great teacher," the Guardian said quietly as he appeared again, "but it does not do to dwell on it so much that you forget to look forward. You have your soul and your purpose, Sten." With those words, the Guardian vanished, leaving Sten to continue onwards.
As he stepped through the door, his eyes were drawn to the massive figure standing perfectly still in the center, easily a head taller than Sten. Heavy red pieces of shoulder armor did little to hide the muscular figure, nor the twin hilts, each of which was attached to a weapon would have been considered impossible to wield by bas. Enormous horns adorned the figure's head, giving him a strong profile.
Sten inclined his head. "Arishock," he said reverently.
"Sten of the Berassad," the Arishock spoke, his voice rumbling as he advanced. Most would have retreated from the sight of the giant approaching, but Sten stood firm before the leader of the Antaam. He knew that the Arishock was not here in flesh, but his duty to respect his superior still applied. "Your mission is not yet complete."
"It is not, Arishock, and I must pass through this room to finish."
The larger Qunari nodded slowly. "Do you waver in your convictions?"
"No," Sten said proudly.
"Then all is as it should be," the Arishok said, "Complete your mission, Sten, and then return to Par Vollen. Victory is in the Qun."
"By your will, Arishock. Victory is in the Qun." Sten said. As the room faded, a small weight appeared around Sten's neck, and when he looked down, he saw a small pendant, forged of steel, bearing the Mark of Koslun and the words "Asit tal-eb": "It is to be."
Will sensed a flash of magic as he stepped through the door, but before he could do so much as open his mouth, the door had already shut, and the others had vanished.
Narrowing his eyes, Will attempted to summon his magic and break through whatever illusion this place had lain upon the area, but he quickly realized that it was powered by something so far beyond him that it wasn't even worth trying.
The energy of the temple surged for a moment, and Will watched a ghostly figure arise from the ground. A shield formed itself between the pair at Will's command; if the temple wanted to kill him, he wasn't going down without a fight.
"Welcome, William Surana," the avatar of the temple said, his voice gentle. "You need not fear me, lower your magic."
Will simply watched the figure. "Then why separate us?" he asked.
"It was necessary so as to properly test you, to see if you are truly worthy of beholding the Ashes of Andraste," the avatar said. "And before you say anything, yes I know why you have come, and what you denied to get here."
"Who are you?" Will asked warily, lowering the shield.
"I am the Guardian, and I have waited for this day for a long time, for the people Andraste fought for to make their way to her remains."
"So, what is it you've planned for us, that you needed to split us up?"
"The four of you have such different backgrounds, so many various trials, I could not formulate one Gauntlet that would accurately test you all. Thus, I separated you, so that you each might prove yourself worthy." He studied Will. "Are you ready to face the Gauntlet?"
"Do I have a choice?" Will asked.
"You always have a choice, William Surana," the Guardian said gently. "Choice defines us, makes us all who we are." He cocked his head. "A question, if you do not mind?" Will nodded,
"Seven years ago, your world shattered around you. You watched the girl you had come to love die in front of you." Will's breath caught as the Guardian spoke. "But she died because the Templar believed that she had killed one of their own, a man you had killed in vengeance. What if you had acted differently?" His ghostly eyes pierced Will. "Do you believe that it is your fault that Solona Amell died?"
Will's eyes widened as a chill passed through him. He tried to open his mouth to say something, anything, but it was all he could do to move it.
He had never allowed himself to think about what might have been, it had been just too painful. Instead, he had focused his efforts on moving forward, avenging Solona. Now that the deed was done, he had felt those snaking questions trying to worm their way into his mind, but he had been able to shut them out, turning his attention forward again.
One simple question tore through even that last defense.
After a minute of silence, the Guardian spoke again. "It seems I have agitated you more that I intended, and for that, I am sorry." He stepped aside, "Please, proceed." With that, he vanished.
Will didn't believe for a second that the Guardian hadn't intended to cause the pain that he now felt. The bastard was clearly omniscient, he couldn't have not known.
Finally, after a few minutes, Will was able to force himself forward, passing through the door that the Guardian had vacated, stepping into a thick mist. After a few moments, it cleared.
Will was standing on one side of what looked like a massive portcullis, which stretched the entire length of the room. He distantly noted that there were anti-magic runes carved all along the barrier, preventing any magic from going through it. Most of his attention, however, was taken up by what was on the other side.
On one side of the room, to Will's right, was a stone table. On the table lay a gem much like the one Legalos the Arcane Warrior had resided in before Will freed him. Above it hung a flat slab of metal, which looked more than heavy enough to crush the gem where it lay.
On the other side, however, a gallows had been set up, and an all too familiar person was waiting to be hung upon it.
"SOLONA!" Will called, rushing forward and pressing his hands against the metal grate. Though he didn't notice it, at the time, a wave of magic drove the fact that she was already dead from his mind. She was gagged, her eyes wide and pleading as she stared at Will.
"Yours is the terrible burden of leadership, William Surana," the Guardian whispered, appearing on the other side of the portcullis. "But you have yet to truly feel it."
"Let her go!" Will snarled, turning his blazing eyes on the Guardian.
"I cannot do that, William Surana," the Guardian said sadly. "Only you can choose, and the choice is a grave one."
Before Will could shout at him again, the avatar of the temple pointed to the stone table. "That gem is the only thing that will allow you to succeed in your quest to end the Blight. Without it, all of Fereldan is doomed to be corrupted or destroyed, and there will be no one to blame but yourself." He nodded to Solona. "I don't believe I need to tell you what your dear friend represents."
The air around Will started to catch fire; such was the depth of his rage. "Let. Her. Go." he growled again.
"When I said I could not, I meant that literally, young Warden." The Guardian stepped over to the gallows, waving his hand through the rope that was ready to strangle the girl. She didn't react to the spirit's approach, keeping her eyes on Will. "I cannot affect anything in this room."
He pointed to the sides of the area Will was trapped in. There were two leavers, one on either side. "Both those devices will raise the portcullis. However, the one on your right will also release the slab above the item you need, destroying it. The other, of course, will activate the gallows."
He bowed his head, moving to stand in the exact center of the room. "You can only save one, William Surana. Will you rescue the girl you love? Or will you move on to save all of Fereldan, perhaps all of Thedas, but leave her to die?" He faded from sight, throwing out one last challenge. "The choice… is yours alone."
Will stared in helpless frustration, his breath coming in ragged gasps. How was he supposed to make that kind of choice! How could he kill Solona, even if it meant saving everyone else?
He looked around his prison, desperate for some sort of inspiration. There had to be an answer… there had to be a way to save both…
The portcullis was warded against magic for the entire length, so he couldn't simply melt through it. He tried to stick his hand through, but a great weariness gripped him, forcing him to pull it back out.
He slowly turned to look at the levers, first one and then the other. How was he supposed to choose?
A soft clunking noise echoed through the room, and Will turned to see Solona hopping slightly, probably trying to get his attention.
"Just… stay there, Solona," Will called softly, trying to sound calmer than he actually felt. "I'll figure something out."
The raven-haired girl shook her head as much as she could despite her noose before jerking her head towards her hands, which were bound in front of her. Will was about to ask why she didn't simply loosen the rope before he noticed the wooden bars holding her arms straight.
She was using the same sign language that he had used to tell Anders his plan back at Kinloch Hold, which felt like years ago. Will focused, hope rising. Solona must have a plan; she had been here longer than Will had…
"Kill… me…" he whispered, blinking in shock at what she was telling him to do.
"I…" he whispered. Solona shook her head again.
"It's my time," she signed. "One life cannot compare to the lives of every man, woman, and child in Fereldan. Please, for me, go on. They need you more than I do."
"Please don't ask this of me, Solona…" Will whispered. "I…"
Solona smiled sadly, a single tear trailing down her face. "Please, Will. This is my choice, not yours. Please…" Will felt his eyes start to water, though he couldn't bring himself to care. Solona was asking him to kill her.
Slowly, he turned and walked left, still trying to force himself to take his eyes off Solona. She was crying too, but she nodded, egging him on. Silently damning the Guardian to the deepest pits of the Abyss, Will studied the lever in front of him.
As he glared at the stick, he hated everything about it, from the metal capping the stick to whatever mechanism connected it to the gallows…
Suddenly, Will had a spark of inspiration. Looking at the rocks between the portcullis and the lever, he saw that they were loose. Grabbing the one closest to the device, he pulled it out to find two bars, connected to one another, running from the lever.
Careful not to disturb either of them (not sure witch one did which job,) Will removed stone after stone until, finally, he reached the portcullis. One veered off, likely leading to the mechanism to raise the door, while the other continued on straight towards Solona. He glanced up, smiling at the shocked expression on her face.
He looked at the lever again. It was a push lever, which meant that, when it shifted position, it would push the wood that had previously been under the stone, tripping some mechanism or activating a spell by way of crystal transfer, causing both the door to rise and the gallows to activate. That meant that he simply had to keep the portcullis stick intact while sabotaging the gallows one.
Of course, there was an element of risk to this, so he carefully went to the end, where the two veered off, and with great delicacy, used his Rod of Fire to slice from the edge of the one that led to Solona.
Once it became clear that there wasn't a continuous spell running through a crystal or lyrium matrix in the center of the wood, Will got a firm grip on the wood on Solona's side of the cut with telekinesis, to make sure that nothing happened when he finished cutting. After a moment, he sliced through the rest of the wood, waiting to see if anything happened. Nothing did.
He looked up at Solona, his thoughts racing. No matter what he did, he couldn't be absolutely certain that his plan would work. The two could cross again on the other side, he could be damaging the part that opened the portcullis, and he wouldn't know until it was too late.
"It's worth a shot," he muttered to himself, cutting a wedge out of the wood bar he was holding while still leaving enough that he could trip the device… if the worst occurred.
"Solona, I hope this works," he called, making his way back to the lever. Solona's eyes shone, even at a distance, as he slowly pushed the switch forward, carefully watching to make sure he didn't activate the sabotaged part.
A few tense seconds passed before the portcullis slowly started grinding upwards. Will immediately dashed forward, rolling under the rising door and, once he was clear, cutting the rope over Solona's head with an Arcane Bolt.
"Absolutely ingenious…" the Guardian whispered as he reappeared, the rest of the room shifting around him. "It seems that, when presented with a choice where both sides are wrong, you will seek a third option." He bowed as the door opened. "You have my deepest respect, William Surana."
"You have a funny way of showing it," Will growled, restraining himself from drawing Spellweaver and trying to kill the bastard as his memories of what was actually going on returned to him. Turning away, he stalked through the door.
"You know, Billy, angry doesn't really suit you."
Will's eyes widened as Solona looked up from the book she had been reading in the replica of the Kinloch library. "Sol… Solona?"
"I don't know, am I?" the figure said, smiling as she rose from behind the table and made her way around. "Why don't you tell me?"
"… No, this isn't really you," Will said finally, his voice sad. "Solona's long dead. You're… some sort of echo."
"Correct," Solana's image said. "I am, to an extent, you. I've been drawn from the memories you have of Solona, how she would react, what she would think, everything. I'm Solona as you see her."
"Why are you here?" Will asked.
"To talk with you, and to give you some advice," Solona said before taking a deep breath. "Will, the only thing I regret about my death was that I gave you cause for pain." Will tensed as she continued. "Forgive me for this, but why did you kill Carroll and Drass?"
"Why did I… They hurt you! They killed…" Solona raised a hand.
"No, Will," she said. "That is not the true reason. A reason, yes, but not the real one."
Will's eyes fell. "…I did it because they hurt me…" he whispered. "When they stole you from me… all I was really thinking about was me."
Solona nodded sadly. "Yes, Will," she said. "Angry, hurt, you lashed out to try and alleviate your own pain by causing it in others."
"But it hasn't worked," Will said. "I thought that killing them would make everything better… but it hasn't. It's just created rifts... caused more pain…"
His head down, he barely recognized Solona's footsteps before she pulled him into a hug. "That being said, Will, I forgive you, and I think it's time you forgave yourself. What happened all those years ago wasn't your fault." Will blinked, and Solona continued "Part of your problem is that you blame yourself for what happened, even though it wasn't your fault."
Will chuckled weakly. "That's right, you're in cahoots with the Guardian,"
"Yes," Solona said. "And believe it or not, he does want to help. The point of the Gauntlet is to try and rid pilgrims of any imperfections before they reach the Ashes. It's painful, I know, but in the end, everyone who makes it through is a better person for it."
"Really?" Will asked, causing Solona to giggle.
"Really really." Will sighed at Solona's old joke. Her smile faded as she studied him. "Why are you crying, Billy?"
"I… don't want to lose you again, Solona," Will whispered. "I know you're dead, but…"
Solona gently pressed a finger to Will's lips, cocking her head. "Don't worry, Will," she said. "I'm going to tell you a secret." She rose up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "I never left you. None of us have."
"Huh?" Will said, causing Solona to giggle again.
"Look around, Will," she said, stepping back. Turning, Will was surprised to see other figures standing around the library. His parents and siblings, his aunt and cousin, various teachers and friends from the Circle, even Duncan was there, smiling and waving.
"You see, Will," Solona said, drawing his eyes back to her. "No on you love ever truly leaves you, so long as you keep them in your heart. No matter if we have passed on, or are simply far away, we live on in the dear memories, the good times. Never forget that." She then gestured behind him.
Turning, he saw images of his companions. Sten, tall and calm. Alistair, laughing and waving. Wynne, a small smile gracing her face. Thunder rising on his hind legs for a moment as he barked with joy. Zelda, nodding calmly, lacking any sense of anger or fear. Shale and Morrigan stood together, rolling their eyes but curbing their tongues.
And at the head of the group was Leliana, her arms open.
"They are with you as well, Will," Solona said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're not alone, Will. Not now, not ever."
Will slowly felt a smile form. "Thank you," he whispered.
"You're welcome, Billy," Solona's voice said. A moment later, her arms snaked around him, palms open. Looking down, Will saw a rune stone, carved in white marble and bearing the image of two hands coming together, palms open while a star formed between them. Around the edge, the words "You are not alone," were written in gold.
"May the bonds you've formed never break, Will," Solona said as Will gently took the pendant. Once he did, the room faded into smoke.
Blinking, Will looked up from the gift. Around the room stood Leliana, Zelda, and Sten. Each of them looked to be deep in thought as well, and all were studying something in their hand. A long moment of silence filled the room, giving Will time to try and judge how the others were doing.
Zelda was looking pensive, even as she tucked what was likely her pendant into her armor. She looked at him, and rather than the wary, defensive look that she had used on him ever since Carroll, she gave a small smile. Will felt his heart warm at the sight.
Sten's face was as stoic as ever, but Will could see that he stood a bit taller than he had before, as if some great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He nodded to Will when he looked up, his purple eyes shining slightly.
Leliana, meanwhile, had taken a few steps towards him, as if worried he would pull away. A part of Will wanted to go to her, let her know that he was alright, but somehow, the silence of the room seemed too sacred to disturb.
Before anyone else could speak, the Guardian reappeared, beaming with a smile greater than any of the party had seen. "Well done, all of you," he said, his voice filled with warmth and pride. "You have passed the trials of the Gauntlet, proved yourselves worthy to behold Andraste's remains." He bowed deeply. "You may also take a pinch to bring back to your Arl. Please, do not let the land of Our Lady's birth fall to the darkness." With those words, he vanished, and the final door opened. Will silently led the way through.
The party found themselves in a massive room. Large windows let light in, but it seemed unnecessary, since the very stones gave a soft glow. The coldness that had pervaded the rest of the temple faded, leaving all of them comfortably warm.
Their eyes were drawn to a set of marble stairs, leading up to the base of a large stone statue. Andraste's likeness was smiling at them, and to look at it, it almost seemed to be moving, the light of several torches causing her eyes to flicker. At the base stood a tall golden urn.
As Will approached, he could sense the power radiating off the urn. By all logic, he should have been forced to struggle against the tide, his own magic being pushed away by the sheer, raw power of the place. Instead, the Ashes seemed to welcome him, drawing him closer. Leliana and Zelda were both whispering the Chant under their breaths as they stared at the Urn. Sten was silent, but even he seemed impressed by this place.
Slowly, Will reached out and unscrewed the lid of the Urn, glancing in. The inside should have been pitch black, but a soft light shone within, revealing a pile of ashes. Reaching in, Will realized he wasn't surprised when a small amount rose from within, gently laying themselves in his hand. He pulled a small pouch from his belt before carefully tipping the ashes in, making sure not to spill even a single grain.
"I guess we should go," Zelda whispered. Will nodded, noticing a door set into the wall on one side of the room. The group made their way silently to it and stepped out.
Right through the door they had started at. Morrigan looked up from where she had been sitting against the wall, reading a book.
"That took far longer than I thought," she said. Will blinked, there was something in Morrigan's voice that worried him… and was she shaking a bit? "Did you get your precious ashes?"
"I think we found more that," Leliana said, smiling. Morrigan blinked before scoffing.
"I should have predicted that you would be giddy about seeing the remains of a dead woman," she said, trying to sound scathing. Will glanced at Zelda, half expecting her to become angry with Morrigan. However, she simply shook her head.
"I think it's a shame you didn't come in with us," she said. "I think the Gauntlet would have been good for you."
"I am not interested in passing some silly test," Morrigan said. "Now that you have finally finished, let us go."
As the party was about to make their way onto the mountaintop, a sudden roar shattered the mountain's tranquility. "Back!" Will hissed, pulling back into the shelter of the small canyon leading to the temple, hoping that the dragon wouldn't see them.
And it didn't, instead landing near the entrance to the rest of the complex, likely demanding attention.
"Not... good…" Morrigan whispered, her golden eyes wide. "Dragons have a very good sense of smell…" She pointed.
The dragon had stopped roaring, and had instead stuffed its muzzle into the entrance, its tail thrashing. Suddenly, it yanked its head out, letting out a shriek of rage. It spun, and its gaze fell on the group.
"Uh oh…" Leliana muttered.
"SCATTER!" Will shouted as the dragon spread it's massive wings, flames gathering in its maw. They were barely able to get out of the canyon before the dragon spit a massive fireball.
Will and Morrigan started casting ice and lighting at the massive dragon, thought they both knew it would do little. Leliana had her bow out, and seemed to be trying to aim for the creature's eye. Sten and Zelda, meanwhile, were slowly approaching with weapons drawn.
The dragon roared again before lunging forward, its wings flapping to boost its jump. Zelda barely had time to get out of the way before it crashed down, taking a snap at her as it did.
Sten took the opportunity to charge at the dragon's exposed side, while Will stepped forward to keep its attention away fro the others. It took the bait, breathing a stream of flame at him, which he was able to divide away from himself.
Driven by the full weight of Sten's muscles, Asala bit deep into the dragon's flank. The beast roared in pain, sweeping its tail around to knock the Qunari off his feet. As it tried to turn and finish him off, Zelda came from the other side. Unfortunately, her longsword couldn't do the same damage that a greatsword could, only serving to annoy the dragon a bit.
Before the dragon could roast Sten alive, Will put him in a Force Field, knowing better than to try and lock away the dragon itself. He then moved carefully forward.
Meanwhile, Morrigan and Leliana were still at range, launching their respective attacks against the massive creature. It seemed, however, that Morrigan had succeeded in sufficiently annoying it, as it once more jumped the distance, breathing more fire as it came.
Morrigan was able to get away from the flames, but misfortune struck as the dragon landed. The ground, rough and fractured from years of weathering, shattered under its weight. By pure bad luck, one of the stones that flew out smashed into Morrigan, knocking her over with a pained cry.
The dragon roared triumphantly, only for a Crushing Prison to wrap around its muzzle, snapping its jaws painfully together. Will's eyes were narrowed furiously as he charged forward, trying to get the dragons attention with flames, even though he knew they wouldn't harm it.
The dragon turned to glare at him, forgetting the downed mage behind it. Leliana took the opportunity to rush over, realizing that her arrows were doing little to harm the dragon. Meanwhile, Will was once again forced to duck behind a shield as the dragon's flames split around him.
"William! Look out!" Zelda cried suddenly, barely heard over the roaring fire. Will tried to back up, but it was too late.
The dragon had lunged again, and her massive foot came down on top of Will, who desperately reinforced his shield. However, it almost immediately started to fracture as the dragon put more weight onto Will, its eyes blazing.
Suddenly, the weight lifted as Zelda rammed her blade into the wound Sten had left, causing the dragon to rear in agony. It tried to smack her with its tail, but even as she duck away, Sten came from the other side and gave it another injury. Shrieking, the dragon beat its massive wings, knocking everyone in front of it over as it lifted off, flying into the sky.
"Is it fleeing?" Sten asked as he clambered to his feet, Will groaned as he followed suit, noticing Zelda do the same.
"I doubt it," Will said, watching the dragon circle. "How's Morrigan?" he called to Leliana.
"She's in a bad way, Will!" she shouted back. "I think she has some broken ribs! She's down until we can get back to Wynne!"
"Damnit!" Will hissed as he watched the dragon swoop down, leveling out. "It's strafing us!" he shouted, diving away from a wave of fire even as the winds from the beating wings drove him to the ground again.
"We need to get it out of the sky!" Zelda cried. "We'll never beat it like this!"
Will watched as the dragon wheeled through the sky, coming around for another pass. "The wings…" he whispered. "We need to hit the…" He brought up a shield to defend the group from the fire as the dragon soared overhead. "We need to hit the wings."
"How?" Zelda asked, opening her eyes as the trio watched the dragon line itself up again.
"Distract it, will you!" Will said, gripping his sword with both hands, focusing.
"How are we… Eep!" Zelda jumped as Sten grabbed her arm.
"Follow me," he rumbled, running away from Will. Zelda blinked, but followed the Qunari's lead. As Will had hoped, the dragon tried to fry two enemies in one pass and turned, aiming for the pair. This gave him time to begin preparing his spell. Sten and Zelda dodged the stream of fire, if only barely. As it circled around again, the pair rushed back to Will.
"I hope you're ready, because we can't do that again!" Zelda cried.
"I'm ready," Will said, opening his eyes. Zelda blinked as the temperature of the air dropped even further.
The dragon roared triumphantly as it flew in for the kill, only to be met by a volley of large ice blades, all aimed at the right wing. It tried to bank out of the way, but Will shifted the trajectory magically to match its flight, tearing several massive gashes in the dragon's wing.
"Great job!" Zelda said, grinning as the dragon screeched and flapped, trying to land properly. All it managed to do was make its crash less painful. Still, it rose to its feet, roaring furiously at the group.
"Let's end this," Will growled, spinning Spellweaver in his hand. The other two nodded, readying their own weapons.
The dragon charged forward, its wing bleeding terribly but its anger undaunted. The group split up, Will going straight forward while Zelda went left and Sten right.
The dragon tried to incinerate the Templar, but she simple fell back a bit and let Will and Sten go forward, each taking a swing with their blades. Sten was kicked aside, but was quickly covered by Will, which gave Zelda time to come in and do some damage herself.
The dragon flapped its wings, driving the group back as it tried to fly again. As the group gathered again, Sten glanced at Will. "Kadan, how are we planning to slay the beast? The longer this battle continues, the greater chance that one of us will get hurt or killed."
"The head's the weak point," Will muttered. "We just have to get to it…"
The dragon gave up trying to fly with only one wing and fell back onto all four legs, snarling.
"Easier said than done," Zelda said as the dragon stepped forward again, flames dripping from its jaw.
Will took a brief second to look around, noting some ruins a short distance away. "We need to lead it over there," he said, pointing before turning his attention back to shielding against the flames.
"Right," the others said. Once the dragon's breath faded, the three split up again, but did not move in to attack the dragon, instead enticing it to attack them. Slowly, they pulled the injured and enraged dragon back towards the ruins.
As soon as they arrived, Will called to the others "Who wants to go up?"
"You do it, you're the most agile," Zelda shot back, ducking away from the dragon's snapping jaws. Sten nodded as well, darting in to strike a blow against the scarred foreleg.
Nodding, Will darted up onto one of the collapsing wall. As soon as he was ready, the others retreated out of sight, leaving just the dragon and Will. For a moment, the pair just glared at each other, before the dragon finally lunged forward, its jaws wide.
With a boost of magic, Will leapt, completely evading the dragon's bite. As it tried to reorient itself, Will came back down, driving Spellweaver into the roof of the dragon's mouth. It jerked back, trying to roar in pain but only succeeding in exacerbating the wound Will was giving it, especially after Will started shocking the dragon. For several minutes, the dragon struggled and tried to throw Will off, but he held firm, alternating between the lightning runes on Spellweaver and his own ice magic. Finally, the dragon fell forward, flattening the wall, its brain having been frozen and shattered.
As Will wearily pulled Spellweaver from the dragon's bloody maw, he glanced up as Zelda started clapping. "I'll have to let everyone back at the tower know you killed a high dragon," she said, smiling. "They'll be even more insistent on calling you the Dragon Mage now!"
"Shut up," Will grumbled, but he couldn't help but smile a bit.
AN: Hope you liked the dragon fight, it was one of the best parts of the game for me.