Chapter 69) Trials of the Just

Layla POV


I sat at the base of Andraste's statue in the Chantry, just staring at it. Today's sermon talked about her death, and I wondered if she was scared as she burned. Fire was scary and strong. It warmed from a distance, and burned at a touch. She must have been so, so scared."

"Oh, there you are, Layla." I looked up at Elthina's voice, and smiled at her. "Come now," she urged gently, offering her hand. "Your parents are worried about you."

"Okay."


I would have preferred it if Nuada rested longer, but he insisted on keeping on going when he could actually stand without experiencing dizziness. I hoped we wouldn't have any more fights, though. He moved slowly and stiffly, like his body was suddenly too small for him. He smiled warmly whenever I glanced at him worriedly, but I couldn't help but wonder if he was just trying to be brave.

I also really worried about his heart. Yes, I had jumpstarted it with electricity, but… but maybe it would have been better if I had used blood magic to… then again, I did not even know if that would work. I knew the electricity method had a chance of working; it was part of a Spirit Healer's standard repertoire to get just enough life in the body for a healing spell to take. I didn't know of any long-term side effects, but… but…

My thoughts clunked to a stop as we actually entered the building, and I realized it was actually warm. It felt like ages since I had been warm, and I had a better tolerance to temperature extremes.

Slowly, and silently, the four of us looked around the room. It seemed decidedly more intact than the rest of the place, and there were even shelves of books not far away. But what caught, and held, my attention was the armored man standing in front of a door, waiting patiently as we cautiously approached.

"I bid you welcome," he greeted us as we stopped in front of him. There was… something odd about the man. I was reminded of Garahel, in the Fade. But surely, that had to be a mistake, right? "I am the Guardian, protector of the Urn of Sacred Ashes." The four of us exchanged incredulous, and giddy, looks. We… we actually found it! "I have waited years for this." …Huh?

"Please tell me we're not about to hear something about fates and prophecies," Nuada sighed. Though he was not too tired to put on a brave face, he clearly did not feel like being polite. "I'm sorry, but I prefer thinking that my path is my own."

"I understand that mentality well." The Guardian nodded. "Fear not. I merely have been waiting for brave souls to find the Lady again, and to put an end to the farce outside." Was he talking about the people who worshipped the dragon? "It has been my duty, my life, to protect the Urn and prepare the way for the faithful. With your coming, my duty is finally at an end, and I can rest and speak to Her once more." …Wait a second. Was he implying what I thought he was implying?

"You… are one of the original disciples?" I asked hesitantly. He nodded. "You fought…"

"I and my brethren carried Andraste's ashes here, and so we stayed, guarding her resting place." This… might be the weirdest thing we had encountered? Yes, there was Garahel, but that was the Fade, where weird things were supposed to happen. This was not the Fade!

"Glad to know I didn't accidentally kill Andraste again," Alistair immediately joked. I think he wanted to lighten the mood, since all four of us were just staring. This was definitely the weirdest thing we had encountered. That was saying a great deal. "Wait, I didn't, right?"

"Fear not," the Guardian reassured. He even smiled slightly. "Andraste has gone to the Maker's side. She will not return, as per the rules of reality. Necromancy exists, but to resurrect the dead, with their true soul, is to walk the Maker's territory." Could you imagine the chaos? Could you imagine the strain on the land? People were already going hungry! "The dragon was a fearsome creature, a glorious alternative to the absent Maker, and silent Andraste." Their faith faltered, and so they seized anything that could make the long years worth it. I could understand that. "A true believer would not require such audacious displays of power."

"That reminds me of a book I read," Elspeth murmured. She looked rather thoughtful. "It was a dissertation on why the Old Gods of Tevinter were not truly gods at all. There was a line that stood out. Someone, who goes out of their way to call themself a god, is probably not one at all, but rather someone with an inferiority complex, fully aware there is someone of greater power and knowledge." She frowned a little. "I am afraid I can't remember the full paper, though. I read it a few years ago." She… actually seemed frustrated at herself for not being able to remember. "Ah, my apologies for the change interruption." Ah, right!

"You seek the Ashes, and you shall see them." I… could already hear the 'but' coming. "If you prove worthy." There it was. "The Gauntlet shall decide." Why was it never easy? "The way is open." The doors behind him suddenly creaked open. "Now, you four shall-"

"I think Elspeth and I are actually going to stay out here, if you don't mind," Nuada interrupted. He and Elspeth exchanged a look that seemed to convey entire conversations before nodding. "Yeah, we are going to stay out here. If you're not comfortable, we can camp out outside." Alistair and I exchanged an incredulous look. It wasn't really like them to stay back? I could only think of one time they had: when Zevran attacked and they had judged their presence as more damaging that helpful.

"Ah, you wish to remain behind because you both dislike the Chant and Chantry," the Guardian whispered. I saw both Nuada and Elspeth lock up. That told me it was true, more than anything. "The betrayals and losses you have suffered weakened what little faith you had." I thought of the first visit to Redcliffe, when Elspeth actually snapped about the Maker's will and Highever's fall. "You do not need to worry. The strength of one's faith is not a testament to worthiness to view her Ashes. Not all of the faithful believed in the beginning."

"That is kind of you, and Your Lady." Nuada's voice was kind and friendly, and his smile charming, but I could tell the difference between this 'mask' and his real self. Elspeth was all but a statue next to him, and I was reminded of how they had been immediately after Highever fell. I had not seen them act like this in… a long while. The Guardian had hit a nerve, and neither of them would forgive him for it. "But I am still recovering regardless."

"Ah, yes, you took in the blood and power of the false Andraste." The Guardian nodded. "There is a sideroom here for you to rest." I thought I saw a smile. "There might even be pillows."

"I'm so spoiled." He waved to Alistair and me. "Safe travels. If something goes wrong, scream. I promise Elspeth and I will come running."

"Please, just rest for once," I scolded. He laughed a little, relaxing slightly. I was glad to hear his real laugh. I loved the sound. "I am most serious."

"I promise. I will be resting, providing no cultists come in to attack."

"Even if they do, they shall not make it past me," the Guardian reassured. He was definitely smiling this time, kind and gentle. It reminded me of Irving's. "Go forward, then, you two. Your friends shall be safe here."

Despite the reassurance, I honestly did not really like it. It was not often we could depend on anyone else for… well… anything. But when I glanced at Nuada and Elspeth, they both nodded reassuringly, Elspeth's mask cracking enough to smile gently. So, I nodded back, shared a determined smile with Alistair, and headed for the door.

However, as soon as we stepped through, and the door shut behind us, I found myself absolutely alone, separated from Alistair. This… reminded me of the Fade.

Andraste, can you not have a little mercy on us for once?!


I… was quite confused by how riddles proved one's worthiness to view the Sacred Ashes? I got them all right, and passed through the room without much trouble, but it truly confused me. I also could not help but remember the Sloth demon from my Harrowing as I answered each one, who gave me riddles to go around a fight. Was it similar? Was it different? It was an unnerving thought to have in this sort of place.

Sighing, I continued walking forward. There was not really any other place to go, and I still had no idea where Alistair was. Could not the Guardian have warned us a bit? Surely, it would not have impacted our worthiness to know what was coming?

Sighing, again, I noticed something strange in front of me. It took me a couple of blinks to realize it was my reflection, so I must be looking at a mirror. Why was there a mirror in the hallway?

I tilted my head to the side, staring curiously, and my reflection mimicked me. …Of course it did; it was a reflection. That was what reflections did. I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity, and laughed a little with 'it' did the same. I was really out of it, to be so amused by a mirror. I smiled, though, the cheer myself up, and the 'me' in the mirror smiled back, just as cheerfully.

I reached up a hand to wave goodbye; I intended to look for the way around. My reflection reached up a hand to cast a spell; it intended to kill me.

I yelped and ducked under the spell, rolling a bit. Despite moving past the 'reflection', I did not hit anything solid. Okay, there was no mirror. I was… I was looking at a shade that had taken on my appearance. This… this…

This was really, really weird!

I cast a bit of ice magic, mostly to buy me some time, and my 'reflection' countered with an ice spell of its own, giant icicles that shattered when they got close to me, biting into my skin. I rolled out of the way, and healed myself up. Then I saw something crimson flash towards me and rolled out of the way again. It took me a second to realize what it had been: daggers made of blood, my blood.

Jaw dropping, I stared at the reflection and saw the crimson mist that symbolized blood magic floating and spiraling around it. It had… used my blood. It used blood magic. The smug smirk reminded me of Uldred's and I just went cold. Was… was this Andraste's way of saying she was mad I took up the magic? Was She mad that I had not had faith and taken the long way?

N-no, that… well, it could be it. But all the stories I heard of Andraste… they made me think she would not have minded. I took up blood magic to save a child. I wanted to believe that was the right choice. I wanted to believe it was not a wrong choice.

So, maybe, this was not a punishment, but a test. The Gauntlet was a test of worthiness. This part… this part was showing me who I could be, and was testing who I would be. Would I be a mage who relied on blood magic, a mage who stole her enemies' blood without care or caution? Would I be a mage who fought the way she grew up being taught, a mage who fought with fire and ice?

Personally, after everything I saw, I thought I could only be something different. I needed to solidify my courage to be that different something, if I was ever going to move forward!

It sent daggers of crystallized blood my way again, but this time, I did not dodge. Instead, I reached into the Warrior's Memories, and found the technique I needed. Then, I Shifted into the Fade, letting the daggers pass through me. I popped back almost instantly, with a little grimace. Since I was a 'normal' mage, and not a 'warrior' mage, I could not remain 'in-between' for long. But that little bit was long enough to throw off my 'reflection', and I lunged. I called upon the power of the Arcane Warrior again, for the first time since I accidentally did it in Highever Castle. I felt the magic twist onto my skin, like vines on a tree, and felt my whole body hum in power. My rapier felt feather-light as I swung. One slash broke the half-formed barrier the 'reflection' had conjured up. I tucked my arm back and close as I faced the reflection side on, minimizing how much of me was a target, and then I lunged, tip of the rapier aimed right for the heart. I knew it was a heart-shot. I was a healer; I knew how the body was put together. Never did I think I would use that knowledge to take someone apart.

Noticing the 'reflection' shift, I used my own blood magic, on my arm, to move my arm since I would not be able to react in time with my own muscles. With that, I struck true, running it through. It gasped, staring at me with wide-eyes. Then it screamed, because with a twist of mind, I set it aflame and ripped the rapier out of the charring body.

Stumbling back, I let the power dissipate, and hunched over, hands on my knees as I struggled to breath. That… took a lot of stamina. I would need to work on that, if this was going to even be an 'uncommon' part of my fighting style.

I groaned when I realized the fire and ashes of the 'reflection' were swirling about in the air, converging into another shape, and straightened bringing the rapier up in a ready position. But when it solidified, and took on features, the rapier fell from my nerveless hands.

"Jowan…?" I breathed. The… the shade… person… thing… that looked like Jowan smiled at me. "N-no, you can't be… you're dead!" The words ripped from my throat. "You're dead! I killed you! And… and…!" I collapsed on my knees, bursting into tears. Was I going to have to kill him again?! Please… please, don't make me…

I froze as warm arms wrapped around me. I knew this hug. This hug… had been there for me so many times over the years. This hug had been there when I was upset, when I was happy, when I was scared. "I am so sorry," Jowan whispered into my ear. I could only sob. I thought I would never hug him again. "It hurts growing up. I wish we didn't have to. I did… actually like it in the Circle. Our childhood in the Circle wasn't so bad. We had fun, and we laughed. Even if we were scared of the templars, scared of our magic, wasn't it fun?" Yes. Yes, it had been. "And no matter how jealous I was, I also admired you so much. I was so, so proud of you. I couldn't wait for you to take your Harrowing, to shake up the Circle by being so kind yet so strong."

"Jowan…"

"I'm still here. I'll always be watching, being proud. I wish I could have thought of how to say all of this, right before the end." I could not stop crying. "You'll be fine. You're doing fine, Layla. Be happy. You're already strong." Biting back wails, I reached up to hug him. For one brief second, I felt the cloth of his robes, the warmness of his back, under my hands.

Then he disappeared, a ghost in the wind, and I was stuck only hugging myself. I was alone again.

I curled into myself, shaking and sobbing. Then, slowly, I made myself breath. I took a deep breath in, held it, and exhaled. I repeated the breathing pattern until the thickness in my throat eased, and I was left with only burning eyes and tearstained cheeks.

Only when I did that did I let go of myself and push myself up. I rubbed roughly at my face, to remove the traces the tears, and walked through the door at the end of the hall. I just needed to keep moving forward. One step at a time. If I put my mind to it, if I combined my strength with my friends, I was unstoppable.

Goodbye, Jowan. Thank you, for being my friend until the end.


Why was there a disappearing bridge puzzle? Why had there been a disappearing bridge puzzle? Did Andraste only like the clever and/or lucky? I still did not know how I had solved it!

"I see you made it through the weird bridge too?" I squeaked at the voice, drawing my weapon as my eyes darted around, ready for a threat. "Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you." I blinked slowly, and realized Alistair was in front of me. "Hey there, Lay-ACK!" I tackled him with a hug, uncaring of how I likely bruised myself on his armor. "Hey, hey, hey! I bruise easily!" he protested. Still, he hugged me back before long. "I guess you didn't have a much easier time going through."

"It was… a gauntlet," I mumbled. I stepped back, and peered at his face. Like me, he had been crying. I could tell my how red his eyes were, and the lingering stains on his cheeks. "…I saw Jowan, and fought a blood mage version of me."

"I saw Duncan." Ow… "And I fought… a version of me that kept running away." He sighed. "I'm not exactly liking myself right now."

"That is fine. You just need to remember others like you." He smiled wryly, and I smiled back. "So, where are we?"

"We are in a room of fire." He pointed for emphasis and I wondered if the huge fires lining the room were why this place was so warm. "But… well…" He pointed up to an altar. "There is also that." The two of us exchanged a look and a shrug before climbing up the stairs. I noticed the heat grew more intense as we got closer to the altar. Was this some sort of test too? If you braved the heat, then you were worthy?

I supposed it did not really matter. Because, on the altar, there was a golden urn, sitting at the base of a woman's statue. I saw the flame flickering in her hand and swore it was magic. Was this Andraste? Was this someone who vowed to protect Andraste, and now her image guarded the urn? Who could say?

"So, this is the Urn," Alistair whispered. He dug through his pack and produced a small pouch. "I kept a runic token in this, but it's lost in my pack somewhere, so it should be good for the ashes." I giggled a bit and accepted the pouch. Then, carefully, I removed the lid of the Urn, took a pinch of the Ashes, and placed them inside. "They feel different than normal ashes?"

"Mmm…" I tied off the pouch and tucked it carefully into my own pack. Mine was much neater than his. "It did, in a way," I answered, replacing the lid. It was only polite, after all. "It reminds me of lyrium, but… stronger and safer?"

"Then maybe it really will save Arl Eamon." We could only hope, at this point. "I think there's a very convenient door over there." Alistair pointed to a door half-hidden by the altar. "Shall we?"

With a nod and a shrug, I headed to the door, Alistair following. The blast of cold told me it led outside, but it did not take long at all to find the entrance we had used before. The room was the same as before, but there was one key difference. There was no Guardian. He was gone.

Slowly and cautiously, Alistair and I walked around the room, expecting him to pop out of nowhere. But nothing happened. It was silent. …Actually, it was far too silent, and now I was really worried for Nuada and Elspeth?

"Layla," Alistair called as he poked his head into a sideroom. His voice was very soft, but he was smiling. "Over here." Carefully, I came over, and relaxed when I saw the inside of the room. There were Nuada and Elspeth. They were curled up under a blanket together, fast asleep.

"They must have grown tired of waiting," I murmured. The blanket was of very fine quality, and not something we had with us. Had it been in the room? The placement made it look more like someone had tucked them in after they fell asleep, though, so I wondered if the Guardian had put it on them before disappearing. "Is it… creepy that I find this absolutely adorable?" They looked like little kids, perfectly content in their dreams. I couldn't help but smile.

"Well, Layla, you and I can share in being creepers if it is?" He and I did shared a grin. "Maybe we should look through those books I know you eyed when we first walked in and let them sleep a bit longer. It's going to be a hard ride back."

"That does sound good." Besides, we did succeed in finding the Ashes, when no one else did. I think we earned a little break. "Ah, we must not forget Brother Genetivi, though."

"I'm sure he's exactly where we left him." I could only hope so. "So, books?"

"Yes."


Author's notes: So, the trials consist of three parts: riddles, shade, and mirror fight. I switched the order of the last two for… fun? Yeah, fun. The lyrium 'feel' to the Ashes comes from Oghren's dialogue if you brought him to the Ashes: he notes that there is a large lyrium node underneath, which may be a 'mundane' reason for why the ashes are blessed with miraculous powers. Or it could be that Andraste really is divine. It's up in the air.

Next Chapter – Finishing up Orzammar with Aiden