Author's Note: Thanks to everyone reviewing and following! I can't tell you all how exciting it is for me to see so many people enjoying the story.

Chapter 52 - The Revered Father

Haven looked the same as any typical village. Rows of rickety wooden houses with stone foundations lined the main road, with a few other larger buildings scattered about. Unlike other typical villages however, enormous statues of Andraste, baring the Sword of Mercy, stood in front of many of the buildings..

"Oi! You lot! Where you think you're going, eh?"

Serena turned at the sound of the shout, facing the cross village guard. She hoped her face didn't still carry the annoyance she'd felt after her run-in with Sten.

"What are you doing in Haven?" The guard continued. "There is nothing for you lowlanders here!"

"Ah, so this is Haven," Serena murmured. "Excellent."

"What do you want?" the guard sneered back, his eyes flipping between the group of them scattered about the main road.

"We... ah..." Serena glanced around, smiling nervously. "We have a friend here, in fact. My cousin. So, we're just... visiting." She gazed into the man's eyes, brightening her smile. "Surely she mentioned our coming?"

"Hardly." The man scoffed, eyeing Serena. "We do not appreciate lowlanders looking about our home as though it were some sort of zoo."

"Of course! I would be rightly offended myself. I wonder, my cousin said the village is quite old..." Serena continued speaking as if the guard believed them, keeping up the lie. "It took me forever to get up here, it's not on any maps really."

"Haven has always been here," the guard said, puffing out his chest with pride. "Tucked between the Frostback Mountains, protected from the heathens in the south. My family knows no other home."

"And who is in charge of the village?" Serena asked, ignoring the slight on southern peoples. "I'm from the capital, myself, and I tell you, they don't keep Denerim looking half as nice as Haven."

"Denerim! It's no surprise those heretics can't lift a broom..." The guard rolled his eyes, relaxing his stance. "Father Eirik is our spiritual leader and guide. You could find him in the Chantry, presently. He is giving a sermon. The whole village turns out for it, usually."

Leliana's voice was quiet behind Serena. "Revered Father? I have never heard of this."

Apparently it was not quiet enough, as the guard looked at her sharply. "It has always been thus in Haven. We... do not question tradition. Our ways are not the ways of the... lowland cities." He said the term with infinite disgust.

"And rightly so, I say!" Serena exclaimed, hoping to cover over Leliana's misstep. "This village is absolutely beautiful. These snow-capped peaks are so... peaceful. Lovely, really. And this town... it has such... charming people." She grinned at the guard, and was pleased to see he smiled right back, his cheeks reddening slightly.

"You may trade for supplies at the shop, if you wish," the guard said happily, pointing to a large building near the end of a row of wooden houses. "Or otherwise join the Father and others in the Chantry."

"I think we might just do that, ser," Serena cooed, running a hand along the man's breastplate. "Thank you so much for all your help."

"It was... it was my p-pleasure, dear lady," the guard stuttered, flushing. "If you need anything else, you just... you let me know?"

"I most surely will, ser." Motioning to the others, she headed into the village proper. Glancing back, she noticed Sten and Wynne were making their way up the path and she nodded to them.

"Were you flirting with that man?" Alistair asked suddenly from her side. He still had his hand on his sword hilt as if he wanted to show the guard what was what, and Serena had to bite her lip to stifle a giggle.

"We needed to get into the village without arousing too much suspicion." She grinned, an eyebrow arching up sardonically. "Besides, he means nothing to me, sweetheart, I swear."

That elicited a laugh out of Alistair. "You're ridiculous." Matching her pace, Alistair reached over, grabbing her hand lightly. "That was a bit... scary, back there."

"Sten, you mean?"

"No, that other time you took on an eight foot tall man carrying a great sword in the snow. Yes, I mean Sten." Alistair rolled his eyes. "What was it you said to him?"

"Asit tal-eb?" At his nod, Serena continued. "It's a qunari saying that means 'The way things are meant to be.' It's... one of their guiding principles. I read it in that book... It's this belief that things are the way they are because they can be no other way."

Alistair nodded, releasing her hand. "And do you know what he said back to you? That basalit-whatever stuff?"

"No idea," Serena said with a shrug. "It's probably qunari for 'you're a skinny bitch' or something."

"Ha, I hope they have a phrase in qunari for that. I know the dwarves probably do."

"Have you met many dwarves?" Serena asked. As they moved steadily down the row of houses, a few of the villagers came out onto their porches, gawking openly at their group. This town really didn't get visitors, apparently. "I saw one or two in the Grey Warden camp, back at Ostagar."

"Oh yes. Well, I've only met those two, really," Alistair replied, his eyes watching the villagers as they passed. "Duncan had meant to go to Orzammar again, but I guess there wasn't time." Alistair looked off into the distance then, and Serena could tell he was thinking of the late Warden-Commander. "I suppose we'll be heading there next, right?"

"To fulfill the last treaty, yes. I'm sort of excited, actually." Serena grinned. "Can you imagine? An entire city underground..."

"Most of Thedas used to be connected underground by the Deep Roads," Leliana added, coming to walk beside them. "Until the darkspawn overwhelmed their cities... now only Orzammar and Kal-Sharok are left." The redhead glanced at Alistair's sword. "I wonder how that will react underground?"

"Like a big blue lantern, I imagine," Alistair replied with a grin. Duncan's sword now rested at his hip in a sheath he created specifically for it. Serena had yet to see him wield it, seemingly he preferred his father's sword instead. She supposed he kept Duncan's sword close for much the same reason she kept his dagger in her right boot. The memory of the Warden-Commander reminded them both of his sacrifice... for them, for Ferelden.

"Why do you suppose they keep staring at us?" Leliana asked suddenly. Her blue eyes were watching the villagers warily. "It's starting to become... disconcerting."

"It is my fault, my dear," Zevran piped up, grinning broadly at the bard. "Handsome elven assassins surely do not come this way so often... how can they not stare?"

"Despite that, my thought is these people have something to hide," Morrigan drawled slowly, her staff already out. "You said you found one of the knights from that fish village dead in the Chantry man's house?"

"Oh, yes, very dead. Dismembered, in fact. Then just left on the ground." Zevran shook his head. "If one is to murder, the least one can do is clean up after themselves. Blood stains. Don't people know this?"

"I like that dagger," a new voice said. Serena turned and faced a small dark haired boy, his eyes wide and focused on Duncan's dagger that shined brightly in the pocket of her boot. "I wonder if the Father will let me keep it."

Serena stepped back from the boy. She could feel Alistair's steadying hand at her back. "Excuse me?"

"We don't get many visitors," the boy replied. "Especially ones with fancy weapons." Beside Serena, Peanut sniffed at the strange little boy, whining quietly. "But they all end up the same when they threaten Her. When you're dead, I bet he'd let me have it."

"Her? Who is she?" Was that some sort of a threat? Serena wondered. Or was this boy sending a warning?

"Our Risen Lady Andraste, of course." The child peered into Serena's eyes and she shuddered at the boy's intensity. "Do you believe?"

Serena glanced sidelong at Leliana, who nodded encouragingly. "Yes."

"Prove it," said the boy.

"…It's gates forever shut... Heaven has been filled with silence, I knew then, and cross'd my heart with shame." Serena arched an eyebrow at the young man. "You're not getting my dagger, by the way."

"We'll see," the boy replied, shrugging slight shoulders as he walked away.

Haven's Chantry lied atop a steep hill beyond another row of houses. They moved towards it quietly; Serena could tell Leliana was still struggling with the fact that the town claimed to be led by a Revered Father. Even outside the large wooden structure, they could hear the sound of many voices, all chorusing the Chant of Light, and above that, the booming voice of a man.

"So, do we just barge in, or what?" Alistair asked, his hand on Maric's sword hilt.

Serena glanced around the clearing at the top of the hill. "We should probably see if there's other entrances. We don't want to get trapped in there... Zevran, could you?" The elf nodded, heading towards the back and Serena turned to Morrigan. "I'd like you to stay out here, in whichever form you think is best. If we run into trouble, I'll call to you."

The witch nodded, her body already elongating into the agile form of a black wolf. Serena nodded to her mabari next. "You stay with her," she commanded firmly. Peanut let out a happy bark and bounced off to the side of the Chantry, following Morrigan.

Serena shot once last look to her remaining companions before she pulled open the door to Haven's Chantry.

"...We are blessed beyond measure; we are chosen by the Holy and Beloved to be Her guardians." The older man at the front of the Chantry had on the robes of a mage, baring a symbol Serena didn't quite recognize. It wasn't the Circle... or the Chantry, but like a strange combination of the two. Behind him, an altar was dripping with dark, red blood.

"This sacred duty is given to us alone; rejoice, my brethren, and prepare your hearts to receive Her," the man continued. Around him, the townspeople were nodding fervently to one another.

"Lift up your voices, and despair not, for She will raise Her faithful servants to glory when Her-" The man paused, his eyes lighting on Serena and her group. As one, the parishioners turned to stare at them. Serena couldn't shake the creepy feeling this town and it's inhabitants gave her. In this moment, the feeling had intensified... tenfold.

"Ah... welcome. I heard we had a visitor or two wandering the village. I trust you've enjoyed your time in Haven so far?"

"Oh, you know, it's very scenic, what with the mountains and snow and all..." Serena's eyes flipped warily between the congregation and the bloody altar. "Until you get threatened by a small child... then there's the bloody altars and such. That tends to give people the creeps..."

Father Eirik frowned, his beard twitching angrily. He turned to his flock and raised his hands, addressing them loudly. "This, my brothers and sisters, is what happens when you let an outsider into the village. They have no respect for our privacy. She will tell others of us if we let her and her companions live! Word will spread, and then what?"

"You, stranger," Father Eirik continued, his pale eyes boring into Serena. Magic was already swirling around his staff. "You do not understand our ways. You would bring war to Haven, in your ignorance."

"Keep up the bloody sacrifices and war will be the last thing you'll need to worry about, Father," Serena spat. "Where's Brother Genitivi?"

"Of course you come for him! You outsiders are all alike!" Eirik cried. "We don't owe you any explanations for our actions! We have a sacred duty; failure to protect Her would be a greater sin. All will be forgiven!" He turned to the people of Haven. "Seize them!"

The Chantry filled with the sound of shouting as Serena felt rough hands grab her as the villagers moved to do as Eirik bid. Stomping down on the insole of a man's foot, she twisted hard, flinging one of her captors away into a wall. Able to reach one of her weapons now, she pulled one of her silverite blades from her belt and sliced off the other hand holding her back.

The villager screamed, clutching at his ruined stump of an arm as Serena kicked out, knocking the man to the floor. Around the floor, her companions were being captured as more people from the town surged into the Chantry, weapons bared. The villagers outnumbered them three-to-one, and before she knew it, Serena was calling out with her mind, searching for the presence of the two missing companions she touch with her senses.

Morrigan! Peanut! We need you! They have us surrounded!

With a howl, the wolf burst through a window, crashing into one of the villagers holding Wynne down. The older mage scrambled away, reaching for her staff as she pressed a cone of cold into a man's face, freezing him solid. There was the sound of splintered wood, and suddenly Serena's mabari was vaulting over the bloody altar, his liquid brown eyes focused on the Revered Father, who was shouting and flinging spells. Zevran followed closely behind, jumping the altar, his long daggers out as he made his way to the townspeople holding the women down.

The room was a confused mess with the new combatants entering the fray. Morrigan let out another howl, stunning a few of the nearby villagers. Serena heard Eirik's screech as Peanut ripped across his robes, the man trapped underneath her hounds' massive bulk.

Kicking out, Serena knocked another villager to the ground, freeing Leliana from a group of men as Sten bellowed, swinging his sword in a wide arc and catching it in another trio of mad townspeople. "Nehraa Beresaad!" he called, slamming his shoulder into one of the burly men holding Alistair down. With the two men free, they pounded through the room, releasing their obvious frustration on the last of the townspeople.

"I didn't want to have to do this," Serena whispered, surveying the Chantry. The bodies of the hostile villagers were scattered around the floor, their blood soaking into the wooden floors and plush carpets.

"It feels wrong, doesn't it?" Leliana murmured. Serena always forgot how quietly the bard could move. She turned and the redhead was there, having materialized almost like magic. "We... perhaps shouldn't have killed these people within the Chantry."

Alistair sheathed his sword, peering at the body of the Revered Father that Serena's mabari had taken down. "Couldn't have been helped. They already defiled this place anyway," he added, nodding his head towards the blood-drenched altar.

Peanut was pawing at the Revered Father, Eirik, his nose pushing at the front of his robes. Alistair reached down and pulled out a medallion from his pocket, the symbol of Andraste's flame reflected brightly on the bronze surface.

Beside him, Zevran was examining a wall, his fingers running over the surface of it hesitantly. "Serena? I think our insular little village friends are hiding something. This wall is..." He pressed on one of the bricks in the wall and it opened up like a doorway. "Intriguing."

Serena poked her head into the little room, glancing around in the low light. "Hello? Is… is there any... err, any crazed villagers in here?"

A loud groan was the only response and Serena beckoned to Wynne, who already had her staff glowing brightly. "I heard someone, I think-"

There was another groan and a man's voice called out weakly to them. "Who... are you? They... they've sent you to... finish it then?"

"Finish it? Maker, no!" Serena leaned down to the prone man. "We're here to help! Are you... Brother Genitivi?" At the door, Alistair lit a lantern and the room blossomed with light.

"Yes... I..." The man moaned again, clutching his side. "You don't know how glad I am... to see someone who isn't from this village..." Wynne leaned down and Serena could see the blue glow of her healing magic soak into the man's form and he sighed. "The leg's not going to be doing so well for awhile, I imagine... and I can't feel my foot, but... that is infinitely better. Thank you, good woman."

Brother Genitivi sat up, Serena putting a hand out to help him to his feet carefully. "He'll need a lot of rest in order to heal," Wynne instructed, her magic pushing into his leg. "But that should do for now."

"I'm afraid I don't have time to rest now," Brother Genitivi replied, shaking out his rumbled clothing. "I'm so close. The Urn is just up that mountain."

"The Urn of Sacred Ashes? It's here?" Serena exchanged surprised glances with Wynne over Genitivi's head. "Could we get to it today?"

"Haven lies in the shadow of the mountain that holds the Urn," the scholar rasped, coughing slightly. Serena wondered how long he'd been kept in this anteroom. Judging from his scrawny appearance, and the growth on his face... it had been days, at least. "There is an old temple there, built to protect it. The door is always locked, but I know... Eirik wears a medallion. It opens the door."

"This medallion?" Alistair said, holding up the necklace he'd pocketed from the dead man.

"Yes! That's the key!" Genitivi reached for the medallion, eyeing it closely. "Yes, this is it. See here? It has Andraste's Holy Flame etched upon it. Oh, we are so close, I can feel it." He turned to Serena, his dark eyes wide and imploring. "Please, could you take me to the mountainside? I will show you."

"Yes, of course," Serena said, helping the limping man back to the door. "Are you sure you can make it? Your leg..."

"Any pain is worth it, I assure you. I have spent so many years researching the Urn, young lady, learning everything I could..." Genitivi sighed as Alistair came to his other side to assist them. "And now, I'm here, it's here. This is Fate- I know it. What kind of historian would I be if I did not at least try to seek it out now?"

"Ah, the kind that stays in libraries?" Alistair supplied. "That doesn't get beaten to a pulp by dragon cultists?"

"So you know," Genitivi said gravely, nodding. "They call themselves the Disciples of Andraste... they must be here to protect the Urn, but they speak of Andraste as though... as though she were still... alive."

"Surely that isn't possible, though?" Serena asked. "I mean, if it's Her Ashes…?"

The scholar made a noise somewhere between a laugh and cough. "I'm old enough to know that anything is possible, child."