Chapter 38

The Guardian's gaze returned to its usual emotionless, cool expression, and his glowing silver eyes pierced Emma's heart and soul as he examined her life. She felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach like a hornet's nest being poked. Sweat soaked the palms of her hands, and her breathing became shallow as a long-buried memory tried to force its way to the surface. With horror, the dream from the Fade flickered before her eyes and she knew whatever had shifted then was about to be kicked loose.
"You were eight years old when you last saw your parents. You argued with them before they left the house; they died in an accident that same night."
Emma gasped, the memories choking her. No, no, no, I don't want to remember this! The words circled her brain like vultures around a corpse. Her heart hammered so loudly that she nearly missed the Guardian's next words. "Do you think you are responsible for the death of your parents?"
Images flashed before her eyes; arguing with her mum and dad because she didn't want a babysitter, a dark shadow at the door, dark uniform, dark words... words that no child should ever hear. Dark; everything had been dark after that, then foster parents, so many families, but none of them were hers. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to hold in the organ that thumped against her ribcage as it struggled to escape the agony roaring through her body. Each breath hurt as she fought to draw in air through a throat closing with panic.
"Stop it! Can't you see she's in shock?"
Shock? Yes, it had been a shock. Too much to bear at the tender age of eight, so she'd buried it deep down inside where the pain couldn't reach her, where she didn't have to face the truth every day.

-x-

"Emma, you need to breathe, come on sweetheart, deep breath in, then slowly out."
Spots flashed before her eyes and her fingertips tingled, slowly going numb. Aedan helped her down to the ground when her knees buckled, holding her hand, not wanting to crowd her, but that changed when he saw her lips turn blue. She swayed on her knees as he moved in front of her and pressed his forehead to hers, his lips only an inch from her mouth. He took her hands and placed them against his chest so that she could feel it expand with each breath he took. "Breathe with me, Angel, please." He heard the pleading note in his voice and hoped she did too.

He filled his lungs with oxygen, pressing her palms against him, then breathed out, brushing the warm air against her lips. After the fourth breath, her hands twitched and the horrible grating noise she'd been making eased a little as if her body finally realised the danger and sent a frantic message to her brain to get more oxygen. She pulled in a long shuddering breath and released it; one more, and she felt the cold stone digging into her knees as the numbness receded from her limbs.

-x-

She rose unsteadily to her feet, holding onto Aedan for extra support. Slowly, she lifted her head; Aedan expected tears, horror perhaps. He didn't expect the rage burning in the depths of her eyes. Before Aedan could grab her, Emma charged the Guardian, striking him in the chest with the full force of her hands, knocking him back a step. "You fucking asshole! Why did you have to remind me of that? What difference did it make to you?" She swung out and perhaps because her actions had stunned the Guardian, she managed to get in a punch. Pain shot through her hand and she knew she'd broken something; the bastard's jaw felt like stone.

Stepping back, she cradled her swelling hand, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her green eyes glinting with fury. "I am sorry to have caused you pain, Emma. I found it difficult sifting through your mind and I did not realise you had chosen to forget that particular memory."
She glared at him. "You shouldn't be sifting through anyone's memories. I don't understand what you get from it. How can it help you see if someone is worthy of approaching those damned ashes?" She heard a gasp of disapproval, more than likely from Leliana, but right then she couldn't find it in herself to care.
"It shows me the state of your soul; whether it has been stained or strengthened by the life you have led. I do not take pleasure in causing emotional pain to others, but it is the only way."

She turned away, gritting her teeth to keep in any further comments she might have made – and she had quite a few on the tip of her tongue. She wondered if Andraste would approve of all these stupid tests just to see her ashes. She thought not; from what she'd read, the prophet had been a down-to-earth woman who had fought the wrongs wrought against the land by the Tevinter Magisterium.

"Are we done?" she asked the Guardian in a cold, flat voice that she barely recognised as her own.
His silver eyes flickered with sadness as he gave a short nod. "You may pass."
The door clicked open, beckoning them forward. Wynne stepped up and gently took hold of Emma's damaged hand, startling her from her reverie. She stood still and allowed the mage to heal the cracked bones, but when Wynne started to speak, she shook her head and moved away. Ghostly figures appeared on each side of the long hall, each with a riddle. They approached Andraste's mother first, and as Emma had done the puzzle so many times, she knew the answers by heart and replied to each one sharply, in no mood for games.

Once more the door swung open; just in time, she remembered what would occur next. "Aedan, this next encounter might be painful for you."
A bitter smile crossed his face. "I'm coming to expect that in this place." He stroked his knuckles over the contour of her cheekbone, following the angle down to her lips. "Are you all right?"
She loved him for asking, even amidst his own pain, but she couldn't deal with the issue right then. "I'm...," fine trembled on her lips, but she wouldn't lie to him. "I don't know and I don't want to think about it right now."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I understand, Angel." He looked back to the others. "Let's get this finished."

They stepped through the door and the image of Bryce Cousland appeared. "My dearest child..." Aedan stepped forward as if to reach out to his father, then remembered where he was and stopped himself. "I wish it were not so, but I know you are dead." Emma heard the tremor in his voice and knew how much it cost him to say those words.
"You know that I am gone, and all your prayers and wishes will not bring me back. Pup... I know that you miss me, but my death and my life no longer have a hold on you. This is how it should be. Set your eyes on the horizon, do not look back, and do not falter."
Aedan's eyes were glued to the image of his father as if taking this final opportunity to memorise his face. "No more must you grieve, my boy. Take the pain and the guilt, acknowledge it, and let it go. It is time. You have such a long road ahead of you, and you must be prepared. So, I leave this in your hands... I know you will do great things with it."

He placed an amulet in Aedan's hand as he spoke, and with that, the image of his father disappeared. Emma moved a little closer and Aedan turned and smiled at her. "I'm all right. In fact, I feel pretty good, as though I've finally gotten some closure."
She returned the smile. "I'm glad. You deserve some peace of mind." And she was glad for him, but that didn't stop the niggling worm of resentment that singed her gut like acid; she wanted closure too, or rather she just wanted to forget what she'd been forced to remember.

They moved on to the next room and fought their way through replicas of themselves, leaving everyone shaken and disturbed. They soon came to the next puzzle, the invisible bridge. Once again, Emma's knowledge of the game helped them solve it in a relatively short time. They crossed the dark chasm and faced the final obstacle; a towering wall of flame. Aedan read the instructions and after a moment's awkward silence, everyone stripped off their weapons, packs and armour, until only their underwear remained.
"It did say everything, yes?" Zevran grinned as he slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear as though preparing to remove the final piece of clothing.
"Young man! If you pull those down I will use a shrinking spell on you."
Zevran pouted but held up his hands in surrender. Emma chuckled at his put-upon expression, then gazed fearfully at the fire.

Aedan took her hand; she turned to him and suddenly felt less apprehensive upon seeing his irrepressible grin. "Ready?" he asked as he tilted his head towards the fire, his thumb brushing across her skin. She gripped his hand tightly and they stepped forward, Emma closing her eyes at the last second. When she reopened them, they were on the other side and the Guardian stood before them. "You have proven yourselves worthy and may approach the altar and take a pinch of the ashes." Seeing him brought back her anger and she scowled at him, but he was gone in the blink of an eye. Everyone turned to look at the urn, and they quietly climbed the stairs where Aedan, with a touch of reverence, took a small amount and placed it in a pouch.

It seemed such a shame that Hawke hadn't had these ashes when her mother had died, it could have saved her a lot of heartache. Or him, she amended, realising that in this world it could just as easily be a male Hawke. "Do you think Andraste would mind if we took another small pinch?" Emma asked as she indicated the statue of the prophet. Aedan tilted his head a little as he pondered the question. "If it's for a good cause, I can't see why not." He pulled a second leather pouch from his pack and took another small quantity of the ashes. He looked around, half expecting the return of the Guardian or perhaps a lightning bolt up his ass. When neither happened, he smiled and put both pouches in his pack. After looting the chests they left through a side door and followed a small path that took them back to the hallway near the temple entrance.

Brother Genitivi met them with a cheerful smile. "You've been gone a while; I was beginning to get worried." He looked almost dizzy with delight when Aedan showed him the pouch containing the ashes. There were no real objections to his desire to tell the world of his discovery; some were fully in agreement, others just couldn't care less what happened to the urn.
He left with the parting words that they should come and visit him the next time they were in Denerim and he would reward them.
"Do you think we should tell him about the dead bodies he'll find back home?" Zevran questioned.
"I think the smell will be a good enough indicator, no need to ruin his journey with thoughts of that," Alistair replied as they left the temple.