Several days later they found the single lane that led up into the mountains and to the town of Haven. As they hiked up the steep trail, Alistair fell back to walk with Wynne, offering his arm to help her steady herself. "Thank you, my dear," she said. "I may be an old lady, but I can probably manage."
"You're not old at all," he said, "but since my arm is here, you might as well use it. We can't have our healer getting injured, can we?"
"If you put it that way." She took his arm. They walked in silence for a while. Then, noticing the smile on his face and his faraway look, Wynne said softly, "I think you make her very happy."
Alistair glanced at the mage, noting a suspicious lack of grinning or eye-twinkling. He narrowed his eyes. "Oh, not this again. I'm ready for you this time."
"I just wanted to say that this is something good, for both of you. Being a Grey Warden isn't easy. I'm glad you found each other."
Still waiting for the joke, Alistair muttered, "Oh, I'll bet you are, indeed."
"Cherish this," Wynne said seriously. "It may not last." She thought back to several interludes of her past, all of which had seemed forever at the time.
"And?"
"That's all I had to say," she said.
"Really?" he asked suspiciously. "No pinching my cheeks? No making me blush?"
"Of course not," Wynne said. "I like you, Alistair. You deserve to be happy."
"Not even pinching my cheeks a little?" he asked, sounding almost disappointed.
Wynne laughed heartily. "Maybe later."
Alistair raised an eyebrow at her, which only made her laugh harder.
They kept climbing until they reached the village, nestled into the side of the mountain. They were met by an armored guard outside the village gates. He was quite hostile—definitely no flirting going on—and indicated that the visitors were not welcome in town. They were allowed to pass in order to trade at the store, but otherwise were expected to leave immediately. The village seemed largely deserted. The storekeeper explained that everyone was in the Chantry. But inside the store they found the remains of one of the Arl of Redcliffe's knights, and from then on the hands of the townspeople were set against them. They had to fight everyone they saw.
Eventually they made their way up to the top of the village, to the Chantry, which loomed over the rest of the buildings. Inside the villagers were collected, listening to the sermon of a Revered Father. It seemed strange to see a man in that position—the Chantry was run by women, after all. Suddenly, they were fighting what seemed to be the entire village.
"What is wrong with these people?" Alistair asked after the battle, looking around at the carnage.
"This is not of the Maker," Leliana said with a shiver, looking around at the Chantry. "Whatever is going on here, it is good that we are trying to stop it."
Una was only half listening as she removed an ancient but powerful-looking amulet from the Revered Father's body. From behind a bricked-over doorway, she thought she could hear a faint moaning sound. "Wynne, can you give me a hand with this?" she asked. Wynne balled her fist and spoke a magic word and a fist of stone shot forth, knocking down the bricks. Una stepped through the rubble in the doorway, finding a man lying in the midst of a library. The moaning was coming from him. She knelt down. "Brother Genitivi?" she asked.
"Finish it, please. No more," he begged.
"Brother Genitivi, my name is Una. I'm a Grey Warden. We're here to help you."
He struggled to sit up, his hand on his head. "You don't look like those others," he said faintly.
Una motioned to Wynne, who came and looked over the injured man, healing him as best she could. Finally she stepped back. "I am not able to do any more for your leg right now, but it should heal nicely with time and rest."
"Thank you," he said. "But what about the Urn?"
"Do you know where it is?"
"I do. If you help me up, I can take you there."
After some protests regarding his health and fitness for walking, which Genitivi waved away as unimportant next to finding the urn, they did so. Genitivi limped along between Una and Alistair until they approached a door hidden in the mountainside. He asked for the amulet from the Revered Father. Running his fingers over it, he pressed a hidden spring and it popped open, fitting exactly into a depression on the door.
"How did you know to do that?" Una asked, watching closely.
"I saw the Revered Father do it one of the times they brought me in here to torture me." Genitivi twisted the amulet and the door opened. The five of them stepped inside, feeling the stillness of the abandoned temple washing over them. It was obvious it had once been a beautiful, opulent place. Now the stones had fallen from the walls in chunks and snow had drifted in, covering everything. Brother Genitivi gazed around him, open-mouthed. "Look at it all," he breathed. "I could study here for years and never get to the end of it."
Una sensed an opening. "So, could we leave you here, then? Do you think you'd be safe?"
"Safer than you," he said with a small smile. "Besides, with this leg injury, I could never keep up."
"All right, then," she said to the others. "Let's move forward."
They made their way through the Temple, being accosted several times by cultist villagers. At the end of the Temple, they came to a break in the wall, tunneled directly into the mountainside. Here they found not only more cultists but also drakes and dragonlings. Eventually they came to a giant cavern, where an angry, bearded man who claimed to be the leader of the Cult of the Risen Andraste accosted them. They seemed to believe that Andraste had come back to life as a dragon. And of course, the whole cult had to attack them.
Once the cultists had been defeated, they went through a hole in the cavern wall, finding themselves outside on the mountaintop. As they stood there, they heard a screech above their head, and a High Dragon flew over them, settling on an outcropping of rock high above their heads.
Una brandished the horn she had taken off the cult leader. "I could call it down," she said, "if we feel like a challenge."
"Or we could ... not," Alistair said.
"I think the dragon appears to be guarding Andraste," Leliana offered. "Perhaps if we leave it be, it will keep Her safe."
"A good point," Una said. "So no dragon-slaying today, then." She sighed.
"I suspect just getting to the Ashes will be enough challenge," Wynne said.
Una sent Zev and Morrigan and Grenli back to where Brother Genitivi waited. Neither the witch nor the assassin had any interest in Andraste, her ashes, or her temple, and Una worried that their presence might cause problems. The closer she got to these ashes, the more she believed in them and in their power.
Una, Alistair, Leliana, and Wynne walked across the bridge and the valley carved into the mountain, finding a small door set into the opposite side. Opening it, they walked into a large, empty chamber. A man stood at the other end, waiting for them.
Una walked up to him. "I am here for the Ashes," she said softly.
"I have been waiting for you," he answered, just as quietly. "I am the Guardian."
"You were expecting us?"
"I wait here for the pilgrims who wish to seek the Ashes. I have been here for a long time, and will be here as long as the Ashes remain."
"How do I get to them?"
"You will only reach the Ashes if you are deemed worthy to do so."
"Do you decide that?"
"The Gauntlet will decide if you are worthy. If you are, you will reach the Ashes. If you are not ..." his voice trailed off and he shrugged.
"I'm not sure I like the sound of that," Una said. "Is there no other way?"
"There is not."
"Let's get started, then."
The Guardian looked at her sorrowfully. "I sense grief and pain in your past. Your own, and those of others. Tell me, Una Cousland, do you regret having left your parents behind for Rendon Howe's men to murder?"
Una's jaw dropped open. She felt Alistair take a step toward her, but she held up a hand. Straightening her back, she looked the Guardian straight in the eye. "I had no choice. Someone had to survive to get to my brother, to carry on the family name, and to see that vengeance was done."
The Guardian gazed at her for a moment, then turned his attention to Alistair. "Alistair, knight and Warden. You wish you had been on the battlefield, do you not? You think that if you had been there, you could have saved Duncan, spared him the killing blow, and that now things would be better."
Alistair's eyes closed for a moment, and he whispered, "Yes. If Duncan had lived instead of me ... it would be better for everyone."
"Wynne, mage of the Circle. Do you feel that you often offer platitudes instead of wisdom, and that your advice falls flat on the ears of those who hear it?"
Gazing at him calmly, Wynne replied, "You phrase this in the form of a question, but you already know the answer. I am not always confident that I have said the wisest thing, but I do my best, and that is as much as any of us can do."
"And you, Leliana of the Chantry. You were used to the attention of others, and when you entered the Chantry, you were merely one among many. So you claimed that the Maker spoke to you, to gain the interest of the others in the Chantry."
Leliana sputtered angrily. "I did no such thing! My vision was real—the Maker did speak to me."
The Guardian merely gazed at her, then looked back at Una. He waved a hand toward the door behind him. "The Gauntlet awaits you when you are ready," he said. And disappeared.