Chapter 55: A Test of Faith (part one)
Bethany was shivering.
She still could not believe it, they were here…they were actually in the final resting place of Andraste!
I'm not worthy, she thought, should any mage be allowed in here. The Magisters took Andraste from the world. I'm amazed the temple would even allow a mage to enter.
Justin was looking at her, could he see the distress on her face? Did he know what she was feeling?
"It is okay love," he said warmly, "I'm here."
She drew strength from that.
"This place," Wren sighed, he took a great deep breath, "you can feel the lyrium running through these walls. No wonder the woman's servants brought her here. If the ashes weren't magical before, over a millennia here would definitely make them so."
"No faith in our Prophet Mage?" Bradley asked; he looked a little unsteady.
"I take little faith in a religion whose followers burn an innocent woman, a healer, whose only crime was defending a child with a bit of magical talent," Wren glared at the Templar.
Bethany glanced at Wren; she could see the pain in his blue eyes.
"Is that what happened to her," Bethany asked, "the woman who raised you?"
Wren nodded, "she believed in all…this," he motioned to the temple around them with disdain, "After she was gone, my faith turned inward. I will never again let people who use the name of Andraste as an excuse to murder those I care for. I will see them all suffer first."
"I'm sorry."
The voice startled the group, a figure emerged, a man in fine silverite armor. He had been wounded, but the various cuts and bruises seemed to be healing as he moved.
Bethany was awed, "Are you the Guardian," she asked?
The knight nodded, he turned to Wren.
"I am sorry for your loss Andreas Wren," he said sadly, Tara Elderson was a good woman; she sits at our Andraste's side now."
Wren's eyes flashed with fury, "You are not worthy to speak her name guardian… puppet of Andraste," he spat, "save your pity for other gullible fools."
"As you wish," the guardian said, respecting the healer's wishes.
Justin approached the guardian, slowly and respectfully. Even injured the man looked like he could be trouble.
"Your temple has been violated," Justin said, "we seek those who threaten the ashes."
"The monster and the heretic," the guardian nodded, "they are in the gauntlet. I fear it will not be enough to keep them out."
"We will stop them," Bethany said, she was a bit surprised by the iron in her voice.
The Guardian smiled, he seemed to be looking through her, seeing into her very soul.
She shifted uncomfortably.
"Thank you Bethany Hawke, mage of the circle," the guardian's tone made her feel…reassured, "stay close to those you love, and you will find the home you seek."
The guardian closed his eyes, the door before them opened.
"I cannot aid you in there," he said sadly, "all I can say is trust in who you are and what you know. If you are worthy, you will reach your goal."
There was a bright flash of light, when it had faded the guardian was gone.
"Good Riddance," Wren snorted, he turned to the gauntlet, "let's get this over with. I am already past bored with this place."
IOI
The first chamber they came to was all but destroyed.
The door leading to the next chamber had been blown off its hinges; spectral figures flickered in and out of existence. Ser Bradley recognized some of them from his chantry studies. Brona, Andraste's Mother, Havard, one of her disciples, even Maferath, her husband and betrayer. The spirits tried to speak to the party but their words were garbled all blended together.
Echoes of a shadowed realm.
An Eye for an eye.
The smallest Lark might carry it.
Neither a guest or a trespasser be.
Passions cruel counterpart.
"What do you think we would have had to do if this room was complete," he heard Justin ask.
"Hard to say," Bethany shrugged, "maybe we would have to answer questions?"
Wren snorted, "Never figured a barbarian queen like Andraste would have favored scholars."
"Oooh I think that one is Shartan," Merrill squealed, "He was the savior of the Dalish!"
"Yes, and the reason your people were given the Dales," Wren sneered, "shame that her servants decided to destroy it, and erase the one elven disciple from the history books. Guess the Andrastians wanted elven slaves to help build their own empire."
Both Serene and Merrill tensed at his hash words.
"What," the healer asked?
Justin was glaring at him, "That wasn't nice Birdie."
"No it was realistic."
"It wasn't like that," Bradley said glaring at Wren.
"Was it," the healer asked, "Do you realize Templar that some chantry officials believe that even owning a copy of the Canticles of Shartan should be considered heresy and punishable by death."
"The Divine would never allow that."
"Ahhh, but the Divine can't see everything, and still her servant's murder in her name. Such a wonderful religion you worship. Just ask Bethany or any other mage from Kirkwall, oh wait… you and your fellows murdered them all. You can't!"
Bradley shuddered.
Wren smirked, he felt vindicated, he left the Templar to consider what he said. Something about being in this place brought out the worst in him. Maybe it was all the fawning worship of woman whose words had been used to enslave his fellows for over a millennia.
They seemed to forget that Andraste's own husband had betrayed her. The mages had merely put her to death.
The most successful betrayals came from those closest to you.
Wren understood that.
He smiled.
IOI
Serene came up to Bradley, he did not look good, he was pale and sweating a little.
"Are you alright?" Serene asked concerned.
"Yes," he said with a weak smile, "it is the lyrium here; my body… still craves it."
No matter what he did, he would always be addicted to lyrium.
Serene gave him a concerned frown.
"Maybe you should turn back?" the bard offered.
"No…I…I need to be here," he said calmly, "I won't let Delance's heretics harm the ashes. It is my duty."
Serene held his gaze for a minute, finally she nodded.
"As you wish handsome."
His smile widened, she had called him handsome, maybe there was a chance she might forgive him for what happened with Leliana.
He hoped that she would understand the choice he had made, Leliana's offer for him to join the seekers.
It was for the best after all.
They approached the next chamber, it was a place filled with mist.
Justin didn't like that; it would be a perfect place for an ambush. He reached out with his warden sense, but could only sense an echo of the darkspawn who passed this way.
They had no choice…they could only go forward.
"Be on your guard," he ordered his weapons at the ready.
They entered the mists together.
IOI
"Justin?"
He could hear Bethany's voice. He could make out the shapes of the others, but nothing more. This chamber seemed larger than the others, and he could not shake the feeling that they were not alone.
The beast growled in his breast.
Bethany broke through the mist; he slid his boarding ax into his belt, and embraced her. He took her hand as they separated.
"Stay close to me," he whispered.
The mage nodded.
Two figures emerged before them. One was an old man in circle robes he did not recognize; the other was dressed like a Ferelden farmer.
Justin gasped…it couldn't be.
"Tobrius," Bethany asked, the circle mage nodded, tears came to her eyes as she regarded the other man, "F…Father?"
"Hello my girl," Malcolm Hawke said warmly, he turned to Justin, "Hello lad."
"Ser," Justin replied, he suddenly felt very nervous holding Bethany's hand in front of her Father.
"You have grown so strong child," the mage Tobrius said proudly to Bethany, "your success honors me."
"Thank you Master," Bethany bowed slightly.
"Your daughter was a fine student Mal," the circle mage said to his old friend, "you trained her well."
"She always was," Malcolm smiled, he glanced down at Justin and Bethany's hands, "It pleases me that the two of you have found each other again."
Justin felt that he needed to defend himself, Malcolm had been a father to him as well.
"I love your daughter ser," Justin said bravely, he would do it, admit the one thing he could not say as a boy to Malcolm. "I swear I will keep her safe."
Malcolm nodded, he seemed pleased by this.
He placed a small object on a chain around the warden's neck, "I think you may need this soon," his old teacher said, afterward he retreated into the mist.
"No! Father, Tobrius wait!" Bethany cried.
"You have all you need to succeed in your quest," Tobrius said as he vanished, "You have strength, power, and the will."
"You also have each other," Malcolm said, "do not underestimate how powerful that is. Good bye to you both. You have made me so proud."
Then they were gone.
IOI
Merrill coughed; this horrible mist had her turning in circles.
A figure emerged. A young blonde Dalish woman in hunter's armor, her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. She regarded Merrill with barely disguised disdain.
"Lost again sister," the woman snickered.
Merrill's eyes widened.
"Lyna," she hissed, of all the people, why Lyna Mahariel!
"This is all your fault," Merrill growled, "Tamlen, the Keeper, all of it! If you hadn't found that mirror…if you had not died, none of this would have happened!"
Her old rival sneered, "I didn't make you take the shard to Kirkwall Merrill, you did that all yourself."
Merrill wanted to protest, to tell Lyna she was wrong, but she couldn't.
She had made her decision…she had to live with it.
She had to learn from it, to grow…she owed that to the Keeper and to Hawke.
"I'm sorry Lyna," she whimpered, "about you…and Tamlen. You were part of the clan, my family.
Lyna's face softened.
"He needs you Merrill, please help him," Lyna pleaded, "He is lost to the taint. Please sister, free him. Free the man I loved."
She nodded, she could do that…for one of her clan.
Lyna began to fade.
"Your Alim is pretty cute by the way, for a flat ear anyway," Lyna laughed, "shame I'm dead I would have liked to get to know him better."
Merrill's eyes narrowed.
Lyna Mahariel laughed as she had in life, full fire and passion…then she was gone.
Merrill shook her head, same old Lyna.
IOI
"You have come so far lad,"
Ser Bradley regarded Ser Thrask, the Templar who had taken him off the streets of Kirkwall. The red headed man had died, murdered by his lover, the Starkhaven blood mage Grace.
"You have seen injustice and rather than turn a blind eye as I did for so long…you are fighting it."
Bradley nodded, "We should have stopped Meredith. She should have been removed from office. If she had maybe you wouldn't have…maybe I wouldn't have…"
The faces of the mages he had killed during the night of the Rite of Annulment danced before the Templars eyes.
He felt ashamed.
"You can't change the past lad," Thrask said sympathetically, "but the future is not written yet, be the Templar…be the man I never could. Be strong lad."
Thrask was gone.
Bradley continued on, he thought he could see Justin and Bethany up ahead.
IOI
Leonie hated this place; she hated the way her armored feet clumped on the stone, the way…
A man in Grey Warden armor blocked her path.
" 'Ello little frog."
Leonie gasped, it was her Uncle Renald!
The old Grey Warden admired the golem.
"You have grown big little frog." He quipped, "Very big."
"Ribbit Uncle," she said with an amused chuckle.
The older man laughed.
She missed him. More than she missed her lost humanity. She had wished to talk to him one last time for so long.
The Maker had answered her prayers.
"I'm gone little one," he said sadly, "and you have an amazing new journey ahead of you. I'm grateful you will never know the calling."
A very, very, VERY, long journey, she thought sadly.
"Will we meet again," the golem asked?
"When the Maker wills," he shrugged; he placed something on her armored wrist. She looked down, it was her warden oath pendant… but she had burned it…it had burned with her human body.
It was suddenly very precious to her; it had defined who she was for such a long time.
She was grateful to have it back.
A sly grin split Renald's features, "in the meantime little frog, squash many darkspawn for me. Can you do that for an old man?"
"As you say Uncle," the golem straightened, at times like this she wished she could cry, "Good bye Uncle Renald, I love you."
"And I you little frog," the old warden faded.
Leonie continued her resolve strengthened.
IOI
Serene felt lost, she couldn't find anyone.
She nearly bumped into Giselle.
Serene stared in disbelief. It was Giselle DeJardin, her teacher, the bard murdered by Leliana and Marjolaine so long ago.
"Hello my peaceful one." the dead bard smiled.
Peaceful one… that is what she had called her when she and Benoit had seen her in the market that day. The small starving six year old elven girl. She had been without fear, so peaceful, serene. That is where her name had come from. From her beloved teacher and mentor.
Serene threw her arms around Giselle.
"I found her Giselle," she gushed, "one of the beetches who murdaired you. I will…"
"Hush little one," the bard soothed, "you have moved into a new world, beyond our games of revenge and death. I'm not asking you to forget what happened, but remember you have different priorities now."
Serene broke the embrace, tears flowed freely from her red eyes.
"But she killed you." The elf sobbed.
"I died a bard's death," the blonde woman said, "a death of betrayal and intrigue. I am pleased that you will not follow me on that path. Be a great Grey Warden my peaceful one, make me proud."
Serene nodded, "how can I forgive her?" she asked as her old teacher started to fade.
"You don't," the elder bard said, "but you accept that you are two different women now. Fight for the future not the past."
Giselle was gone.
Serene continued forward.
IOI
Wren smirked, oh the trickery of this place.
He could see the specters…the images of those taken from his companions. He could see how they gushed over their lost friends and loved ones. Even the captain confessing his love for the circle pet in front of the shade pretending to be the girl's father.
It was pathetic.
A figure moved towards him, it seemed that it was his turn now.
He hoped it would be Isabela, it had been a long time since he admired her beautiful body. He looked forward to telling her off after all these years. He…
The woman stepped before him, her brown hair graying, her face careworn. He could still smell the herbs she had used in life.
His heart broke.
Mama!
"My dear Osen," she said warmly, "my dear little bird, my brave little wren."
Osen, he remembered that name. It had been the name Flemeth had given him at birth. She had named him after her long dead husband. The only man she had ever loved.
Wren sneered.
"Away spirit, I will not be pestered by the likes of you."
The woman looked hurt, "son… please."
"I am not your son," he roared, "I was a burden. A burden that you could not refuse, given to you by a woman who terrified you."
"You were never a burden."
Wren almost laughed, he fought the tears that wanted to come, he would not give this place the satisfaction.
"Why didn't you tell me what I was from the very beginning, you could have…"
"I did not want to burden you with that knowledge."
"No…she told you not to didn't she?"
His Mama was silent.
"YOU WILL TELL ME!" he roared, his face twisting into a draconic parody of its self.
Tara Elderson nodded.
Wren laughed fatalistically.
"Of course she did, let me suffer as your body burned before me. Let me suffer with the knowledge that no matter how much you claimed to love me. You could never fully take a witch of the wilds into your heart. I terrified you…admit it…ADMIT IT!"
His Mama was crying now.
Part of him that was still the little boy that she cared for wanted to comfort her.
No he was not that boy anymore. Wren was the name he took to avenge her. It was the name that the Divine would have on her lips as he crushed the life out of her. When she saw her precious chantry scattered to the winds, destroyed forever.
Tara Elderson would be avenged.
The Witch King had promised him that.
That was why he was here, to insure the wardens played their part. He had led Wren to Justin in Ansburg, ordered him offer his services to the wardens, his puppets, his unknowing dupes. Wren would implicate the Divine in Delance's crimes. The grey wardens would do the rest, if the chantry was willing to use the taint to control its followers, then the wardens would have no choice. The Chantry would have to be destroyed. Every Templar, every sister, it would all be burned to ash.
The Witch King would then be there to pick up the pieces.
Did Flemeth know? Probably. All she cared about was Bethany and Justin, as long as Wren did his part she would not stop them. She would not stop his true master the Witch King.
His Mama looked at him, her eyes were pained, was she afraid, ashamed, he could not tell.
He did not know why he cared anymore.
"Be careful my son," she whimpered as she faded from his sight, "don't become like those who murdered me."
Wren sneered, he was not like those Templars, he intended to become something greater…and something far, far worse.
A small medallion fell for his Mama's hand when she vanished, Wren picked it up. He knew it in an instant.
It had been the last gift he had given Isabela. She had left it behind the night she left him, the night she ran away.
He had tossed it into the sea that very morning.
He glared down at it. No he was not that person anymore. He was his Mother's creature and the Witch King's as well…
At least until they outlived their usefulness to him.
Wren awaited that day with baited breath.
The mist dissipated, the door before them opened, the others seemed disoriented from their experiences here.
Wren was not, his resolve had hardened.
The chantry would fall. The Divine would be destroyed, all of them would.
The Witch King would have Thedas, and when he was gone…
Wren, an immortal once he had wrung that secret from his bitch of a mother, would take possession of it.
It would be a grand improvement.
Wren the immortal, Dark Lord of all of Thedas.
Oh how the world would tremble.
Andreas Wren smiled.
