Salem

I flexed my right hand, feeling the strange sensation of new skin grown too soon. Wynne's magic had returned with ferocity and power, and while I had suffered from it, I felt much more whole. The senior enchanter informed me that the dragon's blood had left behind strange, blue scars all across the palm, back, and fingers of my right hand. It did not matter and I did not care. I could use the hand, and that was of more importance.

There would always be scars. Even magic could not erase them. It was part of this life; where everything endured left a mark of itself. Would that I could hold my heart in my hands and see its open wounds. But you took that from me, Leliana. You left me here, numb. So selfishly, I want you here beside me. How is it possible to long for you already?

Oghren approached me and tossed something that clanged at my feet. "Ain't as good as the ones you lost," I felt about the ground and wrapped my fingers around the hilt of a sword, "but they oughtta get ya through."

I lifted each sword, testing the edges with the pad of my thumb. "They'll work, Oghren. Thank you."

I rose and tucked the new blades into my sheathes, then strapped them to my back. I allowed their weight to settle before heading for the exit.

"And where do you think you are going?" Wynne's voice arrested my footsteps.

I could picture her, hands on her hips, lips pursed in a frown. Melancholy whispered through me as I remembered my mother taking that same stance of disapproval.

"To the temple." I answered. "It is time to finish this and get back to Redcliffe. We cannot afford to waste time."

"And where are the others?" she demanded. "Who is going with you?"

"No one." I answered.

I will not risk losing another one of them. Not to death, not to anything. I will face whatever lies ahead alone, as it should be.

"You are not intending to do this alone!" Wynne exclaimed, coming closer. "Salem, have you lost your mind? It is far too dangerous. What if there are worse sorts in that place than Eirik, Kolgrim, and the dragon?"

"If there were, we would have faced them as soon as the dragon fell. You do realize they worshipped it?"

"Do not dodge this conversation." she scolded me.

"Morrigan needs someone to stay with her. You need people to protect the both of you, should something happen. I am going alone, Wynne, and if you disapprove of this, feel free to leave." You would not be the first.

"You may attempt to strangle me at arm's length, Salem, but I will not be dissuaded. This is foolishness and you know it. I warned you from the first that your relationship with Leliana was precarious at best. Just because she has left you, you do not have the right to endanger yourself and Ferelden."

"Keep pushing me, mage, and history will write you as the one responsible for my corpse." I said, at wit's end with her sermons. "We're finished here."

"Salem." she called as I turned my back. "Salem."

"Burrow." I patted my thigh and the mabari ran to me with a bark. I looked over my shoulder for the sake of the gesture. "Contented, Wynne? Now I am not going alone."

"Be safe, Salem." she whispered after me.

The cavern caught her low tones and brought them to my ears. I shook my head, marching out into the clear, crisp air. I could sense that the sun had gone down, though all the world was dark to me.

It will remain so, even if I am to regain my sight. She is gone. My light is gone. I have nothing now to guide me towards a brighter day. Only the hope of a suicide mission. Only the prayers of thousands of men and women who rest their destiny on my shoulders. That is not enough. Maker, save me, but it is not enough. How can you ask one person, one soul, to carry the weight of all the world and strip them of the things they cherish? Leliana's vision became my faith that you were not dead, not deaf to the pleas of this world. But now she is gone, and everything becomes a lie. Even you.

I walked around the dragon's body, listening to Burrow slog through the snow beside me. The door was not far away now. What would I find inside? More mad cultists in love with a dragon and a lie? Or a vast, expansive tomb, swept empty...empty as my soul.

I pushed at the doors, listening to the hinges scream as someone entered for the first time in what might have been centuries. Those cultists never came here, I thought, straining to open the door wide enough for me to enter. Something kept them at bay...but what?

I leaned against the door, catching my breath. I was still too weak and I despised myself for it. Would one less wound have kept Leliana here? I wondered. Less blood? Less damage? What could I have done?

I entered a room, judging it to be expansive by the way the sound of my footsteps echoed forth and back. I walked forward, sensing the presence of another. I reached for my swords, hating my unfamiliarity with them. I had lost too much on this quest. Pieces of my body, blood, my swords, my armor...my love.

"Stand down, Grey Warden." a voice, older than the stone I stood on, greeted me.

"Who are you?" I asked, unwilling to remove my hands from my weapons. Burrow growled low in his throat. One word from me and whoever challenged us would know regret.

"Not your enemy," the voice sounded masculine. "Not at this time. I am the Guardian of the Ashes, and you are one who would claim them for yourself."

"In part, but not in whole." I said. This man had truth in his voice, with an echo of sorrow. Whoever he was, he had no truck with Kolgrim and the cult who worshipped the dragon.

"You would come here blind to seek what those with sight have declared does not exist." I could hear amusement in his voice. "Tell me, warden, why should I let you pass?"

"A Blight is on the land." I made my case. "I am one of two wardens left in this country. We must gather an army to face the darkspawn, and one man who can help us is deathly ill. No other cure can be found for him. That is why we...I...have come to seek the Ashes."

"You speak in plural and in singular. If you are many, why do you come as one?"

"This is something I must do alone." I answered, hanging my head.

"You have ever been alone, Salem of House Cousland." he declared.

How did you know my name? "Do you know me?" I asked, uncertain now if this man was flesh and blood.

"I know that you believe you are the last of your line." he replied. "I know that you stumble in the dark of your blindness and the turmoil in your heart. It is fitting that your Nightingale has fled from your side, warden. Your way lies on darker paths than hers shall ever reach."

I reached out and grasped the pauldrons of his armor, pulling him towards me. He did not resist.

"How do you know of me and Leliana?" I demanded. "Who in hell are you?"

"I am but the Guardian of the Ashes." he stated, his voice the same monotone it had been from the beginning. "Our Lady has given me deeper sight than most could dream of possessing. There are many who have come here who are unworthy. I have not let them pass to the next trials."

Next trials? Of course. Why can nothing come with ease...things only depart in such a manner.

"And me?" I asked. "Will you let me face these trials?"

"A blind woman in the halls of my Lady?" he questioned. "I do not think you will make it out of here alive, Salem Cousland."

"And what do you know of me and my resolve?" I baited him.

"That both are nearly gone." he answered. "You have lost everything you hold dear and more. Your father and mother, your brother's wife and your nephew. Their losses came close to destroying you."

"I am not yet gone." I could not see him, yet he could peel back the layers of my mind and read my history with ease. Discomfort filled me.

"Not from that, no. But this, this death most recent, it will ruin you, Lady Cousland. Everything good in you shall pass away and you will die at the end of your journey. Is that what you desire?"

"That was not my choice." I defended myself. "She did what she felt she needed to."

"And out of love, you fell silent." I could sense a smile on his lips, but could not be certain. "Suicide of soul is love's darkest form."

"But still a form of love." I did not wish to speak of this any longer. If death came at the end of my journey or the end of his swords, I would welcome it with open arms. "Have I passed muster, Guardian? May I go forth and seek the Ashes?"

"The Gauntlet is yours to run, Grey Warden." the clank of armor as he stepped aside. "Your success lies with the Maker."

The Maker is dead, I thought as I strode past him, not knowing what new horrors I might face.