Ch. 9: In Which There is Existentialism and Metaphors

Haven was filled with cultists. When they arrived, the inhabitants immediately tried to get them to turn around and leave. Olivia had to argue with the two guards that had stopped them for five minutes before they agreed to let them stay just long enough to restock on supplies. "Is it just me, or is something seriously strange about this town?" asked Olivia.

"It's not just you," said Zevran cheerfully. "You would not believe what I found in that house over there. Or maybe you would," he added thoughtfully.

"What did you find?" asked Olivia with a sense of foreboding.

"Besides the rather disturbing blood covered altar?"

Olivia groaned. "Just once, I'd like for something to happen without complications."

They found an exceptionally large group of cultists in the Chantry led by a mage who ordered the cultists to attack them. They also found Brother Genetivi locked up in a side room, where he was lying on the ground with a broken leg.

Genetivi confirmed that the Urn was there and led them up the mountain to an old temple that appeared to be in two parts on either side of a bridge. As soon as they entered the temple, Genetivi became instantly distracted by the carvings on the walls, which he hobbled off to look at.

Olivia realized that Genetivi wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. "All right," she said to her companions. "Whoever wants to see the Urn enough to fight their way through the inevitable horde of cultists in this place raise their hands. Everyone else gets to stay behind to guard Genetivi and wait for us to get back." Zevran and Morrigan looked uninterested, but Alistair, Wynne, and Leliana raised their hands instantly. Bethany shrugged and did the same.

It was Olivia and the four who had raised their hands that continued onward into the temple. As it turned out there were, indeed, quite a lot of cultists to fight their way past. In the final room of the section of the temple they were in, they were stopped by an armored man with particularly crazy eyes surrounded by a large group of cultists. "Oh, wonderful," muttered Olivia.

"You have defiled out temple, you have spilled the blood of the faithful and slaughtered our young." His voice even sounded crazy. Also, Olivia was wondering what he meant by 'young', considering that all the humans they killed were obviously adults but had killed quite a few dragonlings. Disturbing. "No more," continued the crazy man. "You will tell me now, intruder, why you have come here."

"We're looking for the Urn of Sacred Ashes," Olivia informed him.

That really set him off. He went on some sort of rant about dragons and Andraste reborn and the Ashes keeping her from being 'restored to full glory' and a guardian preventing them from getting at the Urn to destroy them. Then he looked like he'd had an idea. "You could help. If you put the blood of the reborn Andraste in the Ashes then she could regain her full power."

He really was crazy. "Yeah, no," said Olivia. The cultists attacked.

When the cultists were dead, the Olivia and the others walked out the door onto the bridge. It was a straight shot to the final part of the temple and, presumably, the Urn. That was when the dragon attacked. Lovely.

"Well," commented Olivia when that particular bit was over, "at least now we get to say that we slew a dragon. That'll make a good story."

When Olivia's party reentered the temple after crossing the bridge, they found a columned room with a door at the far end, in front of which stood an armor-clad man with a winged helmet. "Welcome, pilgrim." The man's voice echoed slightly more than it probably should have, even considering the room's architecture possibly causing echoes. "I am the guardian, the protector of the Urn of Sacred Ashes. I have waited years for this. You are the first to arrive in a very long time. It has been my duty, my life, to protect the Urn and prepare the way for the faithful who come to revere Andraste. I have been here longer than I can actually remember, and I shall remain until my task is over and the Imperium has been destroyed completely."

So he was… what, a ghost? Immortal until the Urn didn't need protecting anymore? "Who are you, though?" Olivia asked. It seemed more polite than 'what are you?'

"I am all that remains of the first disciples. I swore I would protect the Urn as long as I lived, and I have lived a very long time. I lost count after about a century."

That wasn't really an answer, though it did seem to bear out the 'immortal' theory. A question that had been burning in the back of Olivia's mind for a long time came to the forefront. "So- did you know Andraste?"

"Did anyone really know her except for the Maker? She would sometimes spend weeks alone in meditation, often without eating or drinking anything."

"But you met her, right? So…" Olivia had to know. "How did she mean it? When she said that 'magic is meant to serve man and never to rule over him'. That's kind of cryptic, isn't it? What did she really mean?"

The guardian just looked at her calmly. "What do you think?"

And that was a non-answer to the question Olivia had been stewing over ever since she was old enough to figure out that everyone hated her guts for existing. Nice. Damn guardian. "Fine. I don't really need an answer, anyway." Olivia's voice shook and she was pretty sure that everyone could tell that the she was lying through her teeth. "Can you show us to the Urn?"

The guardian looked at her with the same calm expression he had worn the entire conversation. Olivia, feeling unsettled and upset- and actually showing it for once, instead of her protective shell of bravado, was pretty sure she hated him for being so calm. "You have come to honor Andraste, and you will. If you're worthy."

"Great. So now you get to judge if we're worthy or not?"

"It is not my job to decide if you are worthy or not. The gauntlet does that. If you are found worthy, you will see the Urn and be allowed to take a small pinch of the Ashes for yourself. If not…"

That sounded a bit ominous. "The gauntlet? So… we have to put on some kind of magic glove that judges our character?"

"No… the gauntlet is a series of traps and tests that tells the true pilgrims from the false. You will undergo four tests of faith, and we will see how your soul fares."

"Oh, you mean a gantlet," realized Olivia. That made more sense. There didn't seem to be any avoiding it. "All right. I suppose I'm as ready for this as I'll ever be."

The guardian nodded. "Before you go, there is something I must ask. I see that you walked a difficult path to arrive here."

"Well, yeah, there were darkspawn all over the place."

"Not what I meant. I meant that your past is filled with suffering. Both yours and others. Your parents died protecting you and your brother from the Templars and his fate you never discovered, all because you and your brother were mages. Tell me, do you feel like you failed your family?"

Wow. The guardian was really going to go there? Olivia looked at the guardian flatly. "I was ten, what could I have done? It wasn't my fault that the Templars found out. I was angry about it for a long time, but keeping grudges isn't exactly conducive to survival. So, no, I didn't fail them. It's not my fault that people are horrible."

The guardian looked at her calmly. "People are horrible, you say? Yet you trust your comrades."

Olivia shrugged, some of her flippancy coming back. "None of them are particularly bigoted and, like Alistair said once, the potential end of the world is great for bringing people together."

The guardian looked at her for a long moment. "And what about them?" He turned to the others. "Alistair. You wonder if things would have been different if you had been on the battlefield at Ostegar. If you could have saved him Duncan. If you should have died and not him."

Alistair looked down. "Yes. If Duncan had lived instead of me, everything would be better. If I just had the chance, maybe I…" Olivia found it rather alarming that Alistair thought so little of himself. She suspected that he had been purposely instilled with low self-esteem to keep him from ever becoming competition for Cailan.

Wynne looked at the guardian with determination. "Go ahead and ask your question, guardian. I can take it."

"You identify as an advisor, always ready with a word of wisdom. Do you wonder if you spout only platitudes burned into your mind in the distant past? Perhaps you are only a tool of Circle and the Chantry. Do you ever doubt what you believe?"

Apparently the guardian had picked up on the brainwashing. And didn't seem to approve. Olivia's estimation of him rose a bit. "You already know my answer to that," Wynne told him. "Yes, I doubt myself sometimes. I would be a fool not to."

"And you," said the guardian, turning to Leliana. "Why do you say that the Maker speaks to you, when everyone knows he only spoke to Andraste. Do you think yourself her equal?"

Leliana looked upset. "I never said that. I…"

"In Orlais you were important. People knew who you were and, therefore, so did you. In Lothering, you were afraid you would forget yourself and fade away. You liked the attention."

She glared at him. "You're saying I made it up? I did not! I know what happened."

The guardian looked at Bethany last. "Do you ever wonder what you are doing here? What an ordinary farmgirl with a bit of magic could possibly do to aid Grey Wardens? You feel that you are just a burden, brought along because your mother insisted."

Alistair looked annoyed with the Guardian. Bethany frowned. "I pull my weight."

"Not to mention she's the most well-adjusted person in the group," Olivia added in an undertone. "You're the sane one," she said louder to Bethany. "If you think we don't need you, you're wrong. This group would have fallen apart ages ago without you." Her cousin smiled.

The guardian inclined his head. "The way is open. Good luck, and may you find what you seek." He vanished in a flash of light. Bizarre. Olivia really had no idea what he was, at all.

Olivia stepped past him through the doorway, followed by the other four. The next room was a long hall with alcoves lining the walls in each of which stood a ghostly figure of a different person. Olivia walked up to the first one, a woman with short hair and a pinkish dress. The figure began to speak. Some kind of riddle.

Well, Olivia supposed there was a long tradition behind using riddles for things like this. "Um, a dream?" Probably. She couldn't really think of anything else that would fit.

Apparently that was the correct answer, because the ghostly woman smiled and went on a long-winded dramatic explanation about how that riddle fit her life which Olivia tuned out while everyone else paid rapt attention to.

The figure vanished and across the room, the handle of the door turned slightly. So. Answering riddles was how to get the door to open. Olivia went up to the second figure.

Slowly, Olivia worked her way across the room. Each of the figures asked a riddle and, when she answered, cryptically introduced themselves before vanishing. Olivia wondered vaguely whether they were actual ghosts of people that Andraste had known, but decided it was more likely that they were just illusions. After the last riddle had been solved, the door swung open.

The next room contained a single figure of a man facing away from them. He turned.

"Had fun with the riddle game?"

Olivia sighed. "Jowan. I know you're not actually him, you know. He's in Redcliffe."

"So, am I a spirit or is all this in your mind?" asked the apparition with a smirk. "Are you in the Fade? Honestly, I don't know. I am part of the gauntlet,"

"Gantlet," interjected Olivia.

"…I am Jowan, I am you. All these statements are true."

"Very existential," said Olivia. "Why are you here?"

"To talk to you, and to give you some advice. You've come so far since the last time I saw you."

"A month ago?" Asked Olivia skeptically.

"Your imprisoned life in the Circle has been put behind you. You are free of that past, and nothing is going to hold you back. Be strong, my friend, do not falter. Warden." He smiled at that final word. Olivia decided that she rather liked this version of Jowan better than the one she'd left in Redcliffe. It was like he had been before he'd fled the Circle leaving her to a probable fate worse than death. "I have something for you," said the apparition. "Use it well. It makes me happy to know you'll be the person I couldn't be. You're going to be absolutely amazing." With a blinding smile, he pressed something small and metal into her hand and vanished. Olivia looked at it. It was some sort of necklace. Kind of pretty. She shrugged and put it on. It probably wasn't cursed.

She looked around at the others. They all seemed to be unsettled. Alistair looked about to cry.

"Did you all see that?" asked Bethany.

"Probably not the same thing as you, but yes," said Olivia. She wasn't going to ask what the others had been seeing. The five of them shook themselves out of their individual thoughts. "Let's just move on."

As soon as they entered the next room, they had to dodge out of the way of a fireball. "What?" Olivia got the feeling that no one had exactly been expecting to be attacked. Especially not by what was attacking. Pale, ghostly, versions of themselves were charging at them. Olivia automatically froze the fake Alistair in place before jumping out of the way as the fake Bethany threw another fireball at them. She took back what she'd said to the Jowan apparition. Now this was existential.

The doppelgangers were hard to beat. The copies seemed to know all of their own tricks. It was incredibly disturbing.

"What was that?" asked Alistair when the fight was over and all of the ghostly doppelgangers had vanished.

"Some kind of existential metaphor?" suggested Olivia. "'You must conquer your personal failings before continuing' or something? I really have no idea."

"Perhaps everyone gets tested against themselves in some way to pass," said Leliana. "We are fighters, so we had to beat ourselves in a fight."

That sort of made sense.

The next room had a puzzle in it. It took three people standing on pressure plates in the right order to make parts of a bridge appear across a pit in the right order so that someone could cross and stand on a pressure plate on the other side to make the entire bridge appear at once so the others could cross as well. Complicated and strange.

"It seems Andraste favored the clever," said Alistair. Bethany snickered.

"Maybe it's a value of teamwork or friendship or trust sort of thing," pointed out Olivia from the part of the bridge in center of the pit surrounded by black nothingness. "I mean, it takes at least four people, so teamwork or friendship, and if one of you stepped off the wrong plate at the wrong time I'd plummet to my doom, so trust. Or it's just a test of intelligence. Could be that, too." This place was really beginning to get to her. She wondered what would have happened if only three of them had come.

Once everyone was across the pit, they entered a large hall lit by torches. At the far end stood a raised dais on top of which was an altar holding an urn, behind which was a truly enormous statue of Andraste. The way to the dais was blocked by a line of fire. There was a second, smaller altar standing just in front of the flames with some sort of inscription on it.

"By the Maker," said Alistair, sounding awed. "It's the Urn of Sacred Ashes. That's it. It's really it."

Olivia moved forward and looked at the inscription on the small altar between them and the fire. There was another riddle on it. It sounded…Well, this was going to be embarrassing, especially if she was wrong. "I think we have to, well, take our clothes off to get through the fire." Nobody seemed particularly keen to try. Olivia rolled her eyes and grabbed the hem of her shirt. "Alistair, turn around." He turned red and immediately spun to face away.

Olivia stripped as quickly as possible and walked up to the fire. It didn't feel hot anymore. She closed her eyes and jumped through. Nothing happened except that she ended up on the other side of the fire. "It worked!" Bethany threw Olivia's clothes over and the other three women started taking off their own and flinging them across the line of flames.

"Really?" asked Alistair, still looking away.

"I suppose the fire is also some sort of metaphorical, existential construct. That only burns you if you're wearing clothes."

After some awkward shuffling around in which everyone undressed, crossed the flames, and put their clothes back on all while attempting to preserve their modesty as much as possible, the guardian appeared out of thin air behind them. He crossed over the line of flame without taking off anything. Olivia wasn't even going to ask. "You have been through the trials of the gauntlet," announced the guardian. "You have walked the path of Andraste and like her, you have been cleansed." Metaphorically and existentially, Olivia supposed. "You have proven that you are, indeed, worthy. You can go to the Sacred Ashes now."

The guardian vanished into thin air again and the five of them began walking up the steep steps of the dais. Alistair, Wynne, and Leliana stared at the Urn in awe. Olivia walked forward, took a tiny pinch of the ashes and put it in a small pouch, followed by the others.

They walked back down the steps and over to one of the side doors next to the dais, Olivia's companions still looking stunned. As they left the temple, Olivia hung back a moment, looking back up at the Urn. "Did you mean it?" she asked quietly. There was no answer. Olivia turned and let the door swing shut behind her. Time to move on.