Chapter 31 – Goodbye, mio amore
Beren raised his head, a mournful howl following Zevran's wail into the sky. Wynne and Alistair moved closer, hugging both the assassin and Ayu's body. Wynne stroked the deceased Warden's hair, blotting her weeping eyes on her sleeve. Alistair kneeled on the other side of Zevran, one hand on the elf's shoulder and the other resting on Ayu's calf. Beren laid his wide head against Ayu's back, her chest still facing Zevran as he held her.
The companions sat in silence for a few moments while their tears dried on their cheeks. The city laid quiet beneath them, casting them in eerie silence.
"We should get to the others," Wynne said quietly. "They'll be waiting for us."
Zevran numbly nodded, wiping his face and rising with the others. He shifted Ayu's limp body in his arms to carry her easier. Alistair offered to take her from him, but Zevran just absently shook his head. The man nodded, tucking her arms together over her body for the elf.
"Maybe we can find a blanket to wrap her in," Wynne offered. "Perhaps the guard's sleeping chambers will have one in good shape. We'll look on the way down." Wynne turned Zevran toward the door, still open from when they entered the rooftop.
Zevran followed wherever they led. Beren walked quietly beside him. The elf was dejected and lost. He felt like an empty vessel, walking through the tower in a daze. Alistair found a thin blanket, not burned in the raid, on one of the soldier's bunks. Zevran stopped, allowing them to wrap her, head to foot, in it. It covered her loosely, hanging off her feet and cowling around her head. The group continued on their way, eventually passing the darkspawn with the arrow between its eyes.
'Ayu's arrow,' Zevran thought absently. He turned his head away, a fresh tear escaping his clenched eyes.
The group kept moving, finally exiting into the city and making their way to their other companions. They found them still near the gate where they left them, in what felt like a lifetime ago. Alistair and Wynne stepped through the arched opening first, their eyes downcast and their faces grim.
"Where is Ayu?" Leliana asked, her head bobbing from side to side, trying to see past the pair. The rogue's face grew more and more panicked as the seconds dragged on.
Wynne and Alistair finally had enough space to move aside, revealing an ashen-faced Zevran behind them. The elf carried Ayu's body still. He squeezed her to him in a tortured hug, cradling her head under his chin. Leliana's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes instantly welling with tears. The rogue fell to her knees, screaming and sobbing, her other hand clinging to Sten's wrist in desperation. Oghren looked downcast and away from the sight, toeing a pebble away with his boot. Wynne's eyes misted over and she walked to Leliana. Putting her wizened hand on the woman, Wynne pulled her up into a tight embrace. Leliana's fierce sobbing could be heard throughout the courtyard.
Alistair cleared his throat as best he could from the thick lump that was formed in it. "I see there are no darkspawn here anymore, Sten. Were they all routed?"
"Indeed," Sten replied, "of a sort."
Alistair looked at the serious qunari with a questioning look.
"Those that did not disintegrate into ash as the shockwave hit them, were returned to their previous selves." Sten pointed to an area in the courtyard where a few dozen people were crowded. The remnants of the army finding blankets and water for them all. The people looked stunned and filthy, grime clinging to the overlarge garments or fragments of armour they wore. People of all races huddled together in silence, sharing rough blankets and cups of water.
Alistair looked from the group of people and back to Sten questioningly. "What exactly happened?" He asked slowly.
Sten rolled his eyes as if he hated having to repeat himself but told him all the same. "There was a beam of light from the top of Fort Drakon," he started in his deep voice. "The sky swirled and we could see Mythal herself at the top of the tower. The light grew blinding, even here, and there was a powerful shockwave that blew through the entirety of the city-"
"That's when Ayu killed the archdemon," Alistair interjected.
Sten gave him a firm look and the man fell silent. "As I was saying," he continued, "the shockwave travelled through the city. I saw it move through several darkspawn and they turned to ash and blew away on the breeze. Others seemed to have been spared, returning to what they were before turning."
"I'll be damned," Alistair breathed. "She did it." He turned to face Sten properly. "Do you have any idea why some were spared and others weren't?"
Leliana, red-eyed and still sniffling, answered him. "Once the battle was over, but before you arrived, I helped herd the survivors together. I asked a few of them when they had turned into darkspawn. A few couldn't remember, they remember nothing of being those creatures, but some remembered when they were bitten or scratched. All of the survivors received the taint within the last moon-turn."
"So they've been recently tainted," Alistair nodded. "That explains why her magic was able to clear it."
"I wish she hadn't," Leliana shouted, sobbing openly once again. "Why did she have to die? She could . . . she could've . . ."
"Shh, child," Wynne soothed her. "There is nothing that we can do about it now."
Alistair turned back toward Zevran, standing still where they left him. "We'll take her back to Redcliffe castle. The Grey Wardens will come there to take her to the Anderfels . . ."
"NO," Zevran turned away from him, squeezing her to his chest protectively.
Alistair softened his tone. "They'll take her to Weisshaupt Fortress. She'll be put in a place of honour where all the Grey Wardens will learn of her accomplishments. She'll rest beside those Wardens that have stopped the Blights before her. She will get the utmost reverence and respect."
Zevran turned his head toward the man then. "At least let her see one last sunrise in Redcliffe, looking over the water."
"Of course," Alistair said quietly. "She deserves nothing less."
Rilien and Deygan were standing silently nearby. Alistair motioned for them to come closer. The pair trotted over and he told them to find something that they could transport Ayu's body in. The boys nodded and ran off to find something.
While the party was organizing themselves for the return journey, Zevran sat with his back against a wall, Ayu's body in his lap. The elf could no longer stand her cold, staring eyes, so he gently closed her lids and cradled her against him once more. Hot tears stung his eyes and he held her all the tighter, silent sobs wracking his body.
"We'll be together again, my little dove" he whispered. "I guarantee it."
The boys returned with a low, two-wheeled cart that they could cover with a solid piece of wood to protect Ayu's body on the journey back. Wynne gathered Zevran from where he sat and brought the elf over. Zevran took one look inside and clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction.
"You can't expect her to lay in there. She'll be battered with every bump in the road," Zevran scoffed with a belligerent pout. He would not allow his beloved to be left in the cart like a sack of potatoes. "She needs something to lay on."
"Of course," Wynne soothed, patting his shoulder. "Boys, find some hay or something else soft that she can lay in."
The pair nodded and ran off to where the horses were stationed to see if there was any straw they could have. Leliana joined Zevran and Wynne at the cart.
"Your arms must be tired from carrying her," Leliana stated holding out her own hands. "I could take her if you want the break."
Zevran slowly shook his head. "No, she's not heavy."
Leliana nodded, dropping her arms.
Deygan and Rilien arrived a short time later with a small bale between them. The boys, with Wynne and Leliana's help, spread the straw into a thick layer in the cart. They made a slight depression that Ayu's body would lay into. Once Zevran was satisfied, he gently lay her down, as though he was trying not to wake her from sleep. He paused a moment after, brushing her loose hair back from her forehead, before placing a feather-light kiss there and pulling away. As the boys lifted the cover in place, Zevran turned his back to them, fresh tears welling in his eyes.
Leliana took him into an embrace, her arm around his shoulders, and led the distraught elf to the party wagon so he could rest. Zevran followed silently, his arms wrapped around himself.
The convoy moved along the road back to Redcliffe steadily. Zevran sat in the corner of the wagon staring off into the distance and lost in his thoughts. Wynne would force food and drink upon him as he was refused to eat or drink on his own. He was completely despondent. The others would try to include him in the conversation or tell him a joke, but he would only bury himself in his blanket and turn away. Beren sat with the elf, his wide head on the assassin's leg or arm. Periodically, the mabari would lightly lick his face, but Zevran would only absently pat him on the head and shift away from the dog. Beren would not be deterred, however, and stayed by the assassin's side, joined with him in misery.
The night finally came when the caravan arrived in Redcliffe. The town had suffered its share of destruction from the Blight. Some of the buildings were razed to the ground while others still stood with visible burn marks, even in the almost full moonlight. The castle itself, as the convoy approached, was left largely intact. The wagons stopped in the yard, stableboys running out to take and tend to the horses. The companions jumped from the cart, Deyan and Rilien helping the weakened assassin to his feet. Even with Wynne's constant mothering, Zevran was still difficult. His refusals to eat turned into plates of food sliding down the walls of the wagon swatted out of well-meaning hands. Beren, of course, was all too happy to help clean up the messes. The boys helped Zevran down, Beren bounding at his side. Alistair flagged down a maid to show the boys the way to the assassin's room.
As Deygan and Rilien were starting to lead the elf off to his room, Ayu's slim wagon came to a halt in the yard. Zevran's head immediately whipped around. He weakly fought the boy's hold on him, slipping out of their grip and stumbling to her. He threw himself bodily onto her wagon, sliding down the wooden side to his knees. Fresh tears sprang to his already red and puffy eyes. The elven boys tried to pick him up, but Zevran shook the boys off.
"Do not touch me," he cried. "Leave me be. I want to stay with her."
The boys looked at each other and back to the assassin. They tried again to grab the slippery elf, but it was Oghren who got his hands on him.
"Come on elf," the dwarf spat in his gravelly voice, "let's get a drink. I could use a drink and I know you could." Oghren hauled Zevran to his feet, Zevran was exhausted from fighting the boys off and allowed the dwarf and Deygan to support him. RIlien looked at Zevran dead in the eye.
"I will take care of the Warden. I swear it," he bowed, placing an arm across his waist.
Zevran meekly nodded and allowed himself to be carted off, Beren never leaving his side.
A very drunk Zevran flopped face-first into the plush bedding. He didn't even bother to change out of his clothes. Beren jumped onto the bed, the bed that Zevran and Ayu had shared that final night at the castle, and licked the elf's face. Zevran attempted to swat him off but he was too drunk and weak. He pushed himself up onto his hands, crawling toward the pillows and collapsed again. Beren snuffled the hair at the back of Zevran's neck. The elf mumbled something, flailing his arm nowhere near the mabari and passed out where he lay. Beren watched him for a moment and laid on the bed behind the elf, resting his wide head on the elf's neck.
Ayu had looked at Beren while the others were asleep, the fire crackling low, as they made their way to Denerim. "You take care of him, Beren. Whatever happens, you watch out for him." Those words floated through the big dog's memory, felt the sadness behind them just as he had back then, and let a quiet whine escape him in the darkness of the room. The mabari closed his eyes, snuggling closer to the elven man. He would make her proud of him. He was a good boy.
Zevran stood before the mirror adjusting the collar on his nicest clothes.
"Tck," he clicked his tongue in frustration with himself. His eyes were still bleary and his head was pounding with a severe hangover. "That is the last time I try to best the dwarf at drinking," he muttered to his reflection. He looked down at himself. His clothes were twisted and mis-buttoned. He threw his hands in the air, making another frustrated grunt before he tried again.
A light knock at his door stopped him in mid-braid as he was trying to do something with his unruly hair. He decided he must have slept on his head the night before. Beren barked at the door, waging his stump of a tail.
"Zevran?" Leliana's voice softly called from the other side. "Are you awake? It's going to be starting soon."
Zevran rose from the chair where he sat and went to the door. He opened it and nodded his head when he saw the woman.
"Oh, are you having trouble with your hair?" Leliana pushed past him into the room, "here, sit, let me help you." She ushered Zevran to the chair that he had just vacated and he relented to her ministrations. Leliana chatted away about how nice the day was, regardless of the situation, while she brushed his hair. If she minded that he just silently sat there, she didn't say.
Zevran looked at himself in the mirror while Leliana braided his hair for him. He wondered what he had done to deserve such kindness from the others, maybe it was because she had loved him.
I love you . . .
Those words wafted through his swimming head, both a blessing and a curse. Those had been her last words. The last thing she said was that she loved him. His eyes misted over and he looked down, picking up Ayu's necklace that he still wore. He twisted the pendant between his finger and thumb, feeling the familiar warmth and weight of it in his hand. It glinted in the afternoon light flooding the room. He never bothered closing the heavier, dark curtains over the gauzy ones at the balcony door last night. Never did he think that he would be worthy of such a woman's love, but there it was, he had hers and because of it, he had garnered the friendship of the others.
Leliana was finished, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking at him through his reflection. "Ready," she asked, a clear lump growing in her throat. "It'll be starting soon."
The assassin merely nodded and rose from his chair. Zevran took one final look at himself in the mirror, smoothing his hands over his clothes. He cleaned up nice and his heart longed for Ayu to be alive to see it.
He followed Leliana from his room, Beren walking beside him. He glanced down at the dog and felt a twinge of happiness that the canine had bonded with him so. The elf reached a hand down as he walked and rubbed the big dog's head. Beren leaned up into his touch, tongue lolling out of his mouth. The trio made their way down the hall, the companion's rooms on either side, down a stone staircase and through a small open chamber to the heavy wooden door leading to the garden.
The sun shone brighter now than it did in his room so he had to shield his eyes with one hand while turning his head away from the glare. Nearly everyone was taking their seats on the wooden benches now and he could hear pockets of light chatter as Leliana led him up to the front bench. No sooner had the elf sat down than he looked up and saw her.
"Ayu . . . mio amore," he whispered to himself, wiping at his eyes with a hand.
Ayu was laid out on a large stone altar. Through the bits of chatter, Zevran heard that Rilien had stood guard over her covered wagon until it was time to get the deceased Warden ready for the funeral. Her hair was loose in a fiery pillow around her head, and delicate flowers in lush pastels were woven into the strands. She looked, to him, as though she would wake up any moment, pranking them all into thinking she was dead. While Zevran was lost in his thoughts, Alistair, in his finest gilded armour, walked up to the side of the podium where Ayu lay and cleared his throat.
"My friends," Alistair spoke loudly enough for all to hear. "We are gathered here to pay our respects to the Grey Warden that saved us all. This great woman, Ayu Mahariel, gave her life to end the Blight, a sacrifice we must all never forget . ."
Zevran wiped at his eyes again and Beren let out a soft whine, placing his head on the assassin's arm. The elven man looked at the mabari with a small half-smile. He rubbed Beren's head between the ears and sniffed once more. A tear fell from his cheek and landed on the dog's nose. Alistair was still talking, but Zevran was no longer listening. He knew this would be hard, but he didn't expect it to feel like his heart had been torn out for the second time. The new king had taken him aside the day before and offered his condolences. The man told him the Wardens from the Anderfels were due to arrive the day after the funeral to collect her. Zevran had begged Alistair to let her stay there, where he could visit her, but the king apologized and said she must go. The elf simply nodded numbly and went back to his room.
Alistair had finished talking, placing a hand on Ayu's still shoulder. "Goodbye, my friend." Alistair, to his credit, made it through the funeral without choking up, but he visibly wiped away a tear as he told her goodbye. Zevran watched as one by one the guests stopped by her altar paying their last respects and saying goodbye. Wynne went up with Leiliana following the mage. Leliana ran her hand over Ayu's soft hair, tears pricking her eyes. The woman broke down into heavy sobs and Wynne put her arms around the rogue, leading her away.
Zevran and Beren remained where they were as everyone else slowly left. He stayed sitting on the bench as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, Beren forever by his side. He looked around and finally everyone was gone. Zevran reached behind him, under his shirt and pulled out a stiletto dagger. He studied it for a time, turning it around in his hand. He pushed his fingertip into the needle-like tip of the dagger, using only enough pressure for his skin to dimple around the blade. Beren whined, placing his paw onto Zevran's arm. He looked at the war hound then, letting the dagger point to the ground while he pets the dog with his other hand.
"I promised her," Zevran said softly. "I promised."
Beren looked at Zevran with wide pleading eyes. I promised her too, the dog thought. He placed his paw on Zevran's arm again, and again the elf gently pushed him off.
Zevran stood then and Beren attempted to headbutt the dagger out of his hand. "Hey!" Zevran pulled his hand away, "stop that. This is the way it has to be." The elf wasn't angry with the dog, he understood, but he was doing this. He had made up his mind. The assassin walked over to Ayu's lifeless body, and looked at her for a time, stroking her hair. He took a deep breath and placed his hand on hers. He gripped her fingers gently, rubbing her cold knuckles with his thumb. A tear slipped down his cheek as he looked at her. He brought the stiletto up and placed the point against his heart. The slim dagger would be sure to slip easily between his ribs and pierce his heart quickly. He took another breath and closed his eyes readying himself to plunge the dagger into his chest.
"Hrk-" With a sudden release of air, Zevran was sent sprawling face-down into the dirt, the stiletto flying from his hand. Beren went chasing the weapon down in play, grabbed it and ran off happily to bury it somewhere. Zevran let out a defeated sigh as he saw Beren run off with his dagger. He looked around then to see what had hit him so suddenly. Zevran had to crane his neck to look over his shoulder. Oghren sat on Zevran's buttocks, his arms crossed in fury and his moustache bristling.
"You-"Zevran started to complain.
"You soddin' elf!" Oghren roared at him. "What in all the hells do ya think yer doing? Do ya think that's what she'd want?"
Zevran reddened at the dwarf's chastising. He had hoped no one would be around to stop him. He lowered his gaze, suddenly sheepish at being caught. He shook his head, tears pricking at his eyes.
For good measure, Oghren lifted himself and plopped unceremoniously back down onto Zevran again.
"Ooof," Zevran's breath was forced out of him.
"Let that be a lesson to ya," Oghren grumbled. "Don't be doin' that again." The dwarf heaved himself off of the elf and outstretched a hand to him. "There's food and we need a drink."
Zevran, seeing that his plan had been defeated, for now, allowed the dwarf to help him up and take him to the great hall for dinner.
Zevran returned to his room late that evening, Beren following along behind him. As soon as he opened the bedroom door, the mabari bounded into the room and jumped onto the bed. Zevran gave the goofy dog a half-smile and closed the door behind him. He walked over toward the bed, starting to strip himself of his clothes leaving them in a pile on the chest at the foot of the bed. He grabbed a worn pair of loose pants to sleep in, but before putting them on he noticed a rather large lock on the chest that wasn't there before.
He sat on the floor making a sound of dissatisfaction. He grabbed the lock and let it go again with a pout. All his gear and weapons were in that chest. He signed heavily in his drunken state and pulled his pants on while sitting on the floor. Zevran laid back, staring at the ceiling. Beren barked at him from the bed after a few minutes of him lying on the floor.
"Alright, alright. I'm coming," Zevran started to rise from where he lay with a sign. He went to the balcony and opened the doors, letting the gauzy curtains billow in the soft breeze. He stood out on the stone balcony for a moment, looking down into the garden below. Ayu still peacefully lay on the altar, Deygan standing watch over her body. The young elf happened to glance up and saw him looking. Deygan waved goodnight to him and Zevran raised his hand in greeting. The assassin turned and went back into the bedroom. Beren was still on the bed, huffing at him.
"Okay, okay Beren," Zevran held up his hands to placate the dog. He pulled the plush covers back and crawled into bed. He settled himself against the pillows and Beren moved to rest his head on Zevran's chest. "You're happy now, yes?"
Beren barked, his stumpy tail thumping against the covers.
Zevran chuckled through his nose and scratched the dog's ear with one hand. With the other, he picked up the pendant again and looked at it in the silvery moonlight. Zevran regarded it for a time before letting it drop to his chest and letting sleep take him.
Zevran heard a noise, a noise so strange it woke him from sleep. He groggily opened his eyes and looked around the room. Beside him, Beren was on full alert, his ears pricked forward as far as they would go. The war hound was staring out the still-open balcony doors. The assassin's gaze swept over to the balcony, while he propped himself up on his elbows. The sky on the horizon was starting to lighten in the pre-dawn. Big puffy clouds floated dreamily in the sky, the barest blush of pink highlighting their fluffy bottoms. Zevran thought it was all rather pretty. He listened for the sound again, any sign of what it was that woke him. He pushed himself fully upright, rounding his back to rest his forearms on his thighs. Beren softly woofed beside him. The elf tried to scratch the dog's chin, but Beren moved his head to the side, still focused on whatever was outside. Zevran let out a quiet sigh into the night and that's when he heard it.
The elf's eyes widened at what sounded like Ayu, singing a nameless tune and his head snapped to the balcony in shock. He thought he saw her figure in the curtain for the barest moment. Zevran rubbed his eyes of sleep, all sign of grogginess gone and looked again, squinting into the faint twilight.
Nothing. There was nothing.
He was about to turn away, dejected, but he heard her laugh. He knew he did.
"Ayu?" He asked quietly into the now silent room. He kept his eyes on the balcony, just like Beren and that is when she appeared, or at least her spirit did. The ghost of Ayu walked into the room, ethereal and graceful in her movements. The curtains moved through her body as she glided into the room. She resumed humming her tune walking past the foot of the bed. Her phantom hand slid along the thick, dark bed frame. Her empty eyes bored into Zevran's the entire time.
"Ayu," he asked again, sitting up a little taller in bed.
She laughed, a sound like tinkling bells and kept gliding toward the bedroom door.
"Ayu," he said again, louder this time.
She laughed throatily and disappeared through the door.
Zevran leapt from the bed, roughly tossing the blankets aside and racing around the foot of the bed to wrench the door open. Beren was off the bed in a flash, barking at the door before he got there.
"Ayu!" Zevran called, nearly shouting.
Her image looked over her shoulder at him and laughed, a happy, playful laugh and continued dancing down the hallway.
"Ayu! Come back!" Zevran chased after her, his bare feet pounding on the rug beneath him. Beren was beside him every step of the way, barking.
Alistair and Wynne, on opposite sides of the hallway, opened their doors, still bleary-eyed with sleep.
"What is going on out here?" Wynne asked, looking into the hall.
Ayu's ghost floated past, Zevran and Beren hot on her heels. Wynne and Alistair looked at each other in surprise, not believing their eyes. They looked down the hall together at Zevran's shrinking form, glanced at each other once more, and flew out of their rooms, giving chase to the elf.
The lilt of her song carried down the hall as her image started down the stairs. Zevran was a few paces behind and the others behind him. The sheer amount of ruckus in the hallway roused the rest of the companions from sleep and they joined in the twilight chase.
The party followed her spirit into the garden, everyone skidding to a stop when they saw the altar.
Zevran stared with wide eyes where Ayu's body once lay. The surface of the altar is littered with mounds of ash, flakes of black and grey floating off on the gentle breeze. The top half of the altar is black with soot, the ground beneath it wet and muddy. Zevran fell to his knees in horror, crying out and covering his face with his hands. Beren whined sadly beside him, resting his forehead against the elf's heaving shoulder.
Deygan ran over, dropping to his knees by the assassin, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry," he cried. "I'm so sorry-"
Zevran turned on the young dalish in his anger, grabbing the boy by the front of his tunic. "How could you let this happen to her?"
Deygan sniffled. "I just went to relieve myself," he grabbed the man's wrists in an attempt to placate him. "When I got back, she . . . she was on fire. I . . I tried to put it out . . but it didn't help. The fire was too hot, burning too out of control." The boy shook his head, his voice breaking and tears still running down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry."
Zevran squeezed his eyes shut from his tears, still holding Deygan by the shirt-front. He opened his eyes again, looking to the base of the altar. Sure enough, there was a wooden bucket tipped on its side. A little water pooled beneath it, a few fat droplets clinging to the lip of it. He knew the boy was telling the truth. Zevran slowly released his grip on Deygan leaning forward onto his hands and dropping his head. Tears fell from him, landing on the hard-packed dirt in soft splatters. The necklace swung from his neck, glinting in the now-dawn light. His fingers dug into the ground, barely making a dent in the soil in his frustration and sadness. How could this happen to her? Who would even do such a thing?
The assassin remained on his knees as the sky above continued to lighten, streaks of red, purple and orange flaring across it. The distant mountains stood in silhouette as the sun climbed higher and higher toward the horizon, but he took no notice of them. His gaze was locked onto the body-sized pile of ash on the platform before him.
The sun began to peek over the mountaintops, sending shafts of light in all directions. One of those beams of light illuminated Ayu's resting place in a golden glow. A tendril of smoke, tentative at first started to rise from the ashes. Everyone watched in confused curiosity as the silver smoke gained strength, drifting higher and higher into the morning sky. More and more tendrils curled from the ashes. Tiny licks of flame suddenly sprouted from the ash, dancing hypnotically. More and more erupted until the entire top of the platform was covered in a raging fire. The waves of heat coming off of it made Zevran cover his eyes with a hand, peeking at the flame from around his fingers.
A sudden vortex of energy pulled at their hair and clothes. The wind buffeted against them from all sides. The necklace around Zevran's neck lifted and fluttered in the wind. Before he could grab it with his other hand, the pendant broke free from his neck, flying toward the flames on the altar. He watched, helpless, as the necklace was pulled into the heart of fire, lost amongst the flame.
Something began moving within the pyre, only a glimmer of a shape here or there. The bend of a wing suddenly burst upward from the fiercely burning fire before it collapsed back down. The second, a wing-tip this time, reached toward the open sky. Whatever it was, was writhing in the flames like a creature flailing to pull itself out of a deep mire. One wing erupted again over the flame, followed by the head of a great bird. The entirety of it consisted of liquid fire, moving and running down like water. The huge hooked beak opened, letting out a shrill cry that made the heavens quake.
The party looked on in stunned awe, silently gawking at the sight before them. The monstrous bird lurched backward, the other wing reaching skyward. It stretched its flaming body, outstretching both massive wings. The bird cried once more, pulling both wings upward. It beat them down in time with each other, pushing away from the platform and into the air. The liquid flame ran down and off its body, slowly revealing the beautiful firebird beneath. Its golden body shone in the new sunlight. Its peacock tail and giant wings reflected the various shades of the sunrise; red and orange, with streaks of purple and blue. A plume rose from the back of its head, mirroring the feathers of its tail, no longer weighed down by the all-consuming flame.
It was Mythal. The true Mythal.
She pumped her wings again launching herself higher. She reared her head back and extended long-taloned feet to their full length as though she needed the stretch from being crunched up for too long. One more sweep of her wings lifted her ever higher. She paused then, looking down at the ragtag group of onlookers below her. Her sapphire eyes gleamed like jewels as they settled on Zevran. She was quiet, contemplating. One look at her intelligent face told them she was calculating something behind those gentle eyes. With one final shrill cry, Mythal launched herself into the sky and almost out of sight, a trail of golden droplets following after her. The great bird wheeled around, tucking her wings against her sleek body. She dove toward the altar of dying flame with such speed, the force of the impact sent a shockwave of warm air radiating out from all sides. The fire roared back to life in an instant once more concealing Mythal from the others.
The roiling flame danced and pulsed happily on the platform. Silence descended on the garden as everyone watched on. After a few minutes, something could be seen shifting in the flame once again, a shadow moving within the fire. The shadow was formless, nameless. As Zevran watched unblinking, some unreasonable hope starting to bloom in his chest, a blue-white light shone inside the fire. His eyes widened. The stone in the pendant shone with that same light.
A slender arm shot out from the flames, reaching, grasping for something and fell back. The shadow rolled again. Over and over. The light from the pedant moved with it, winking in and out. The top of a head lurched out of the fire and sunk back beneath again. Slowly, a figure started to rise above the flames, bathed in liquid gold. The figure seemed to be drawn up from their chest, their form arching backward. It was the figure of a woman. The pendant floated above her, glowing brightly. It shone brighter and brighter like a lighthouse in the dark. The light was blinding, causing everyone to turn away and shield their eyes from the flash. The figure collapsed onto the platform, the flames extinguishing in a sudden, mighty rush.
Zevran didn't realize he was holding his breath until the wave of warm air washed over him. It was like a tender caress all over his body. His hair stood on end and his skin tingled. He slowly lowered his arm, looking toward the altar with curious eyes. Unabashed hope swelled in his chest.
There, sitting on one hip, was a woman. She was propped up on her hands, head hanging down, a shock of long red hair curtaining her face from view. Silvery smoke wafted off her body and flakes of black and grey ash softly floated down around her like the gentlest of snowfalls. The area was silent. The onlookers chanced shocked glances at each other, but they didn't say a word. Zevran didn't think anyone was breathing. He turned his eyes back to the platform before him. The woman still had yet to move from where she leaned on the smooth stone.
Silence stretched on until finally, the woman gasped for air, dragging a deep lungful into her body. She let the air out in a rush, nearly collapsing. She took another audible breath pushing herself to sit upright. She covered her naked body with one arm across her chest and pushed her unruly hair back from her face with the other. Zevran stared into those sky blue eyes that he had so longed to see once more. Zevran rose to his feet, staggering a bit as he stared, agape, at the woman.
"Ayu," he said softly. "You came back?"
She smiled, forgetting her nakedness, beyond the silver pendant around her neck, and slid off the platform on unsteady feet. She held herself up for a moment, steadying herself, before running headlong toward the assassin.
"Zev," her voice was hoarse and gravelly from disuse, but he heard her all the same.
Zevran ran toward his love with open arms and tears streaming down his face. She leapt into his arms with a crying laugh and he held her tight. He buried his face into the side of her neck, relief and joy mixing on his face. She smelled of sweet wildflowers in the spring and the headiness of campfire smoke. His hand grazed along her back as he brought it up to tangle in her hair. Her mark was freshly burnt into her flesh, blackened charred flakes fluttered off as he touched them. Zevran moved her hair aside and looked over her shoulder at the brand. It was red and raw, stained black and spidering out across her skin. More charred flakes of skin caught in the breeze from his breath and peeled off. He cupped the back of Ayu's head, gazing into her eyes. They were the same blue that he remembered with new flecks of deep gold splattered throughout them.
"Ayu . . ." He breathed, gazing at her with warm, loving eyes. He crushed her to him then, swallowing her groan as he kissed her hard. Like a dead man staved for warmth, he was desperate, deprived of her kiss, and relishing in the fact that she was solid and very much alive.
He kissed her fiercely, barely stopping for air. When he finally released her lips from his own, they both were left panting. Ayu clung to him, her arms sliding down from behind his neck to grip his bare shoulders. Zevran's fingers trailed along her spine in the tenderest of touches as he gazed at her in wonder. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, attempting to speak, but the words caught in his throat each time. Ayu just blinked at him lovingly, waiting patiently for him.
"I-I love you," he blurted. "I should have told you this before . . . before – well you know," Zevran ran a hand through his messy hair, still tangled from sleep, "but I was born of a whore and bred as an assassin. There was no room for love. It went against everything I had been taught." Zevran paused, his lip quivering a little. "But then you spared me and it touched something inside of me. I was hurt and broken, but you fixed it, made it yours. You healed it and it grew." He cupped her cheeks in both of his hands, thumbs stroking her cheeks. "Now I can't be without you. I love you. I've loved you for a long time. I could . . . I could just never say it." His words started to spill out of him once he began talking, tears pricking his eyes.
Ayu ran her fingers down his tattoo in a gentle caress. Her voice came out barely above a whisper, still dry and rough. "I knew you loved me Zev. In those still moments, when it was just us, I listened to your body," she placed a finger to his lips, "and not what was coming out of your mouth." Ayu smirked at him then, a giggle in her throat.
"Well, I will have to put my mouth to better use then, yes?" He wiggled his brows at her, flashing his brightest smile and pulling her into a seductive kiss.
When Zevran finally let her go, her body was streaked with soot from his hands, spread from her re-burnt mark and the ash still clinging to her hair and body. Wynne approached then, removing her sleeping robe and draped it over Ayu's shoulders. The elf smiled, turning in Zevran's arms to face the mage and pull the garment on properly. The assassin released her from his embrace, keeping one hand on her lower back as Ayu stepped forward to hug Wynne. The old woman had tears in her eyes and a smile on her wizened face as she hugged the Warden tight.
Everyone else came forward to welcome the elf back, in turn, Sten with a curt nod, Lelianna with a bone-crushing hug and everything in between. Beren constantly jumped at Ayu's or Zevran's legs in his excitement, wanting his turn for pets. Ayu knelt once she greeted the other companions. Beren hopped on his front paws, lifting to lick Ayu's face as she came closer to him. The big dog nuzzled against her face and licked her every place he could. His entire back-end swung with the force of his wagging, excited tail. Ayu laughed and grabbed his ears, squishing his furry face between her hands. She let go of the mabari, slowly standing once again. Zevran reached a hand out to her to help the Warden up. That's when he noticed it.
The ground beneath their feet was transformed. Where once there was dirt and mud, the greenest grass, sprinkled with tiny wildflowers, grew in a wide trail to the platform. Vines of ivy and thick moss now covered the stone. Butterflies floated between the brightly coloured flowers, dancing around the dust motes in the sunlight. Zevran gently pulled Ayu closer to him, looking behind her at the platform. She turned, following his gaze, a smile playing on her lips.
"You never cease to amaze me." Zevran's voice was quiet in her ear.
Ayu grinned up at him. "It's a by-product of the resurrection, I assure you. I doubt I'll be able to do it again."
Zevran pressed his lips to Ayu's temple with a chuckle. "I'm sure you'll make something grow."
The Warden looked at him in amused shock, playfully swatting his chest. "Zev!"
He laughed and scooped her up into his arms. "You, my dear, need a bath. You're covered in soot." Zevran clicked his tongue in fake disappointment. "We cannot have that, no. I must take you away now. Say goodbye." The assassin turned on his heel and walked off, Ayu waving to the others over his shoulder and Beren on his heels.
Back in his room, Zevran called for a bath and set Ayu on her feet gently. He cupped her face in his hands, staring at her in awe. "Miraculous . . . " he whispered. "Simply a marvel."
Ayu placed her hands on his, smiling up at him. "You brought me back," she said softly. Zevran looked at her in confusion. The Warden took a small step back, fingering her pendant. She looked at it for a moment, something akin to nostalgia covering her features. She unclasped the necklace and put it back around Zevran's neck. He bent slightly to make it easier for her to reach as she clasped it once again. He gave her a questioning glance, standing up properly. Ayu took a few breaths, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. "You carry me with you always," she finally choked out. "This pendant holds a piece of my soul. It was your love that brought me back. I heard you in the dark . . . and I followed your voice – followed your voice as you cried out for me. I-" Ayu was no longer holding back her tears. They streamed down her face as she spoke with a shaky voice. "I slipped on your tears and felt your ache." Ayu stepped closer, placing her hands on Zevran's chest. "It all led me to you . . . you saved me. With your love, you saved me." Ayu broke down then, burying her face into his chest. He held her tightly, stroking her hair with one hand soothingly.
"I would do it all again, my love," Zevran spoke low in her ear. "I cannot be without you. Even if I have to storm the Dark City itself, I will be by your side." He brushed her cheeks with his thumbs and pulled her lips to his in the tenderest of kisses.
Ayu threw her arms around Zevran's neck, holding him close as they kissed. This was where she was meant to me. She had come back from the dead. She truly had Mythal's favour.