"And so you return. Lovely Morrigan has at last found someone willing to dance to her tune. Such enchanting music, she plays. Wouldn't you say?"
"I suppose you want me to dance to your tune instead?" I asked, playing along with her. She wanted theatrics, and who was I, to deny a dying woman that much.
"Why dance at all? Why not sing?" She laughed, "What has Morrigan told you, hmm? What little plan has she hatched this time?"
"She knows how you extend your unnatural life."
"That, she does. The question is, do you? Ah, but it is an old, old story. One that Flemeth has heard before and even told. Let us skip right to the ending, shall we? Do you slay the old wretch as Morrigan bids? Or does the tale take a different turn?"
"We need Morrigan. We have no choice."
"Choice. There is power in choices, as there is in lies. I shall give you one of each. Morrigan wishes my grimoire? Take it as a trophy. Tell her i am slain."
"You think she would believe that?"
"We believe what we want to believe. It's all we ever do."
"And what happens to you?"
"I go. Perhaps I surprise Morrigan one day... or i may simply watch. It would be interesting to see what she does with her freedom. Enlightening, even. Would you give an old woman that?"
When last we'd met, she'd told me to kill her, when it came to it. I took a deep breath, "No. Forget it."
"Shame. What will it be, then?"
"Now, you die."
"It is a dance poor Flemeth knows well. Let us see if she remembers the steps." She turned and walked toward the small hill in front of her hut, "Come. She will earn what she takes. I'd have it no other way." The human form Flemeth usually wore gave way to a dragon. One I'd see when I was just older than a toddler. Fate.
She roared and tried setting me on fire. I rolled out of the way in time to avoid being burned to a crisp. She didn't have the same fortune; I threw one of my daggers, my signature move, but she took flight. The bolt of electricity I sent her way hit her square in the chest, and she tumbled out of the air. The battle I'd built up in my head was over almost before it had begun.
Her body slowly returned to its human form, a key in her hand. I gently took it from her, hoping I'd done the right thing.
A chest in front of the bed held the grimoire, along with a set of robes that gave off a dark aura. Morrigan hadn't asked for it, but what could it hurt to bring it with me? She'd want proof, anyway.
I woke up with a jolt, surging in to a sitting position.
"Whoa!" It was Oghren, peeking in to see if I was up yet, "Was starting to wonder if you'd died in the night or something."
I gave a shaky smile, "Can't get rid of me that easily."
"You're damn pale, kid. Everything all right?"
I blinked away the fuzziness that came with the time travel and nodded, yawning, "I need to see Morrigan." The words came out a mumble. I wouldn't have been surprised if he didn't understand me.
"Aye. I'll get her for you, girly." he disappeared.
The witch poked her head in a few moments later. I held out my bounty, and she reached out, brushing her fingertips against the fabric of the robes.
"You were successful, then."
I nodded again, wanting nothing more than to sleep, "Yeah. You're now an orphan. You have my condolences."
She chuckled, her laugh melodic, though that could have just been my sleep-deprived brain, "Get some rest, little Warden. You have earned it. We'll discuss this properly later."
I was out before she'd withdrawn fully.
...
"When can everyone be ready to head toward that peak right there?" I pointed to the south, "I found a book in under my pillow when I woke up. By the way, sorry I didn't say I've been awake. I took the time to read it, first."
"How long have you been up?" Alistair asked, bemused.
"Since dawn." The sun was high in the sky at the moment, "But that's irrelevant. The book was written by Brother Genitivi. It's about the Urn of Sacred Ashes and Haven. There's a message scrawled on the inside cover, saying the man's been missing for months. Basically, since around the time of the Battle of Ostagar."
Alistair winced slightly, but I didn't apologize, "And it's that way? You're sure."
"I am. There's a map of the Frostback mountain range, too. It's right..." I flipped through it, showing him, "here. It's pretty detailed, too. We could probably follow it straight to the village."
"Hmm. We can leave tomorrow. Will that work?"
I nodded, "It'll give me time to get more in-depth with the story the book tells."
I didn't leave my tent again, except for restroom runs, after that. Someone brought me dinner. I didn't know who, I failed to care, so I didn't look up from the pages. I spent my nights reading by candlelight, my days filled with thoughts of the coming trial. That's what this would become, a trial. Between what the book described and how I felt, I knew this was going to take strength of will and faith. I would have to get the latter.
...
A man held up a hand, stopping us from proceeding, "What are you doing in Haven? There is nothing for you here."
I was, understandably, instantly suspicious. Was that any way to treat a visitor?
"So, this is Haven?" Leliana leaned forward, trying to get a better look at the village.
"What do you want?"
"Is Brother Genitivi here?" I asked offhandedly, recalling the book.
"Who? Perhaps Revered Father Eirik will know of whom you speak. Unfortunately, he is ministering to the villagers at the moment, and cannot be disturbed."
"Revered Father? I have never heard of this." I saw Leliana recoil, her eyes wide. Father? I thought... Wasn't it more of a Mother thing?
"It has always been thus in Haven. We do not question tradition."
"Are your traditions different from ours?" Alistair was curious.
"Our ways are not the ways of the lowland cities."
"Have you heard of the Urn of Sacred Ashes?" the bard blurted, and my eyes tightened. I was going to keep that in our back pocket, but now they knew why we were there.
"The Urn is nothing but a legend." the guard dismissed it as a silly question.
"Brother Genitivi's research suggests that it may be more." She continued, and I had to resist elbowing her.
His tone grew forceful, "I do not know who Brother Genitivi is, or what he says. However, I am sure people can convince themselves of anything."
"And you don't know if Brother Genitivi has been here?" I raised an eyebrow, watching him closely.
"No." That one word held all the weight in the world.
"Why do you have a revered father? Priests are women." Leli just wasn't going to let that go, was she?
"It has always been thus in Haven." a repeated statement, "We do not question tradition."
Uh huh. Okay, then.
"We would like to explore Haven a little." I asserted, interrupting my companion before she could ask yet again the reason behind the father.
"We do not appreciate lowlanders 'looking about' our home as though it were some sort of zoo."
"Very well. Excuse us." I was already zoning out, trying to come up with a way to get in to the village.
He sighed and glanced furtively behind him, "You may trade for supplies at the stop, if you wish. Then, I suggest you and your companions leave." He left us with that, going back to his post.
"Did it just get a lot colder? Or is it just me?" Alistair mumbled to no one in particular.
I nodded absently as I started forward, eyeing the houses. A boy played in the clearing by the houses, chanting something.
As we passed him, I heard what sounded like "Come, come, bonny Lynne; tell us, tell us where you've been."
It creeped me out.
"Who are you? You shouldn't be here." He ran up to us, half glaring.
"Do you know Brother Genitivi?" I blinked, startled by his tone.
"Who? Why would you come here looking for someone? Lowlanders don't belong here." He turned on his heel and started his chant up again.
"That looks like a store." Wynne pointed out a building with a signpost.
I motioned to Elissa, Morrigan, and Zevran, taking them in with me, while the others stayed outside.
"Who are you? You're not from Haven..." the shopkeep said with distrust.
"Have you seen a man called Brother Genitivi?" I resisted the urge to ask why everyone felt the need to tell me I wasn't from Haven. Like it wasn't obvious.
"No... I've never heard that name." Shifty, shifty eyes.
"This is a shop? We would like to trade." Zevran cut in, smiling disarmingly at the strange man from the even stranger village.
"I don't have much, but I suppose you can take a look."
While the others were buying practical things, I was stuck on a pair of boots. Leather boots, to be exact. The sight of them reminded me of a passing conversation Zevran and I had had an eternity ago, it felt like. The only part I remembered was about Antivan boots, and how he'd decided to wait until he'd returned from killing Alistair and me to buy them. A reward for a job well done. I gave the man coin while Zevran was snooping around, his back to me. Just as the man handed the shoes to me, the elf moved to go in to the back. The store worker lost his mind and attacked us.
Morrigan bound him so he couldn't move, and Zevran lopped his head off. I, meanwhile, hid my newly acquired gift in my pack as quickly as I could.
"There is a dead body back here." Elissa called out.
We scrambled to the door, throwing it open and found the others fighting villagers. With our help, they fell almost too quickly against us.
"They are cultists." Leliana exclaimed proudly, as if their little village had offended her. It probably had, being as she believed in the Maker and Andraste, not to mention she served under a Revered Mother for who knows how long.
The farther up the path we went, the more people stood in our way. Until we reached the chantry sitting atop the hill.
"I want a few to stay out here. The rest of us will go inside." I gave the order for them to volunteer. When all was said and done, dwarves, Wynne, and Sten stayed behind. "Everyone else, with me. We're going in."
A man wearing winter mage robes stood in the center of the aisle, a loose half moon of people surrounding him.
"...we are blessed beyond measure; we are chosen by the Holy and Beloved to be Her guardians. This sacred duty is given to us alone; rejoice, my brethren, and prepare your hearts to receive Her. Lift up your voices, and despair not, for She will raise Her faithful servants to glory when Her-" he cut himself off when he noticed our presence.
His expression darkened for a moment, before he schooled his features.
"Ah... welcome. I heard we had visitors wandering about the village. I trust you've enjoyed your time in Haven so far?"
"You killed the knights of Redcliffe and hid their bodies." I waited for his argument.
"This, my brothers, is what happens when you let an outsider in to the village. They have no respect for our privacy. They will tell others of us if we let them live. Word will spread, and then what? You, stranger, do not understand our ways. You would bring war to Haven, in your ignorance."
"What about Brother Genitivi? What have you done to him?"
He cackled, "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."
Some kind of signal was given, causing everyone to attack us. I stayed where I was and threw my hands out, trying out what I'd seen Morrigan do not a half hour earlier. It worked. Every fanatic stopped in their tracks, almost as if a giant hand was holding them in place. They were easy pickings for the others, after that.
"Spread out and search every single nook and cranny. This is the building the village is centered around, so there's got to be something here."
Several tense minutes passed in near silence while every shelf was searched. I went through Eirik's pockets, finding a strange amulet around his neck. Shrugging, I slipped it over my head. I had a problem when it came to necklaces, I was starting to realize. Then, Natia hollered that the bricked-up doorway was actually a secret door. Inovative. I was definitely impressed by it. I rubbed my temples. They were ridiculously stupid, when it came to that kind of thing.
A man lay on one of the carpets in the new room, unconscious. Elissa crouched by his head and gently shook him awake.
"Who are you? They... they've sent you to finish it?"
"Brother Genitivi?" She murmured.
"You're... you're not with them... thank the Maker."
"Are you alright?"
"What do you think? Weeks of scant food and water, the torture... oh, I've never felt better!"
Oh, that's nice. Sarcasm. "Really?" I asked, keeping my feelings out of my tone.
"No." he sighed, "I apologize. I shouldn't be rude. You're here to help. The leg's not going well and... and I can't feel my foot." Genitivi sat up, despondent.
"I have some bandages." Aedan offered, "Maybe they'll help."
Morrigan and I watched, not giving our magical aid; it wouldn't have mattered. We could both tell that our kind of healing wouldn't do much good, with how much time had passed since the injury.
"Thank you. That... that feels much better. I don't have time to rest now. I'm so close. The Urn is just up that mountain."
"We need to find the Ashes." I explained, "Arl Eamon gets sicker by the day."
"The arl is sick? Will he live?"
"The arl was poisoned under Loghain's orders."
"Politics. Never did anyone any good. The arl is a noble soul. But the Ashes... the Ashes will surely cure him. Haven lies in the shadow of the mountain that holds the Urn. There is an old temple there, built to protect it. The door is always locked, but I know what the key is." He paused to catch his breath, "Eirik wears a medallion that opens the temple door... I've seen what he does with it."
I took off the necklace, "This amulet?"
"Yes, that is your key. Take me to the mountainside, and I will show you."
"Are you sure you can make the journey?" Alistair asked skeptically.
"It is not that far and... will you let me lean on one of you? For the Urn, any pain is worth enduring."
"Alright. We'll get the others and leave as soon as possible." I thumped my fist against my palm.
"Ah, good. Help me up here. I'll try not to slow us down."