Legend (Dragon Age Origins)

Chapter 34: The Arl Of Redcliffe

With the Ashes safely secured, the companions regathered, grateful and eager to leave Haven and the Temple Of Sacred Ashes behind as they journeyed back to Redcliffe. As night fell, they took camp along the thicket spanning the base of the Frostback Mountains. The full moon at its highest peak as they gathered by the campfire, encaptured as Leliana and Zevran retold the story of the Guardian's trials. The foreign duo had a knack for storytelling, though Dru had to bite her tongue to keep from correcting the embellishments in Zevran's parts.

Worry tugged at the back of her mind for Brother Genitivi. Despite her advice, he had elected to remain at the temple to continue his studies. He insisted that with the cultists slain he was more than safe within the ruin's walls and would eventually make the journey back to Denerim on his own. Wynne had impressively set his broken bone and with her healing powers, the leg would soon be as good as new. They spared him some food and blankets, knowing their trek back to the castle would not take long.

As they departed, Genitivi mentioned the possibility of bringing new pilgrims to the temple to bask in the rich history of Andraste. Whether it was a wise decision or not, Dru did not feel she was qualified enough to comment. Though she did feel that history was set to repeat itself as the location of all-healing ashes would not always reach devoted ears. Still, she had what she came for. The rest was in the hands of the Maker, as Genitivi himself would say.

With one leg pressed to her chest and her chin resting on her knee, Dru glanced over to where Alistair reclined in the shadow of the trees. At first, he had been eager to join in on the storytelling, adding comments here and there. But as the story reached the dark pits of the ghostly chambers, he began to withdraw into himself, anticipating the revelation of his heritage, no doubt. Dru could tell that he was watching her as well and sometimes caught his staring from her peripheral vision.

"The third test was the worst," Leliana was saying, dropping her pleasant tone. "We entered a large stone chamber filled with thick fog. As we walked, I could no longer see my friends and I found myself face-to-face with Revered Mother Dorothea. She... is a very dear friend of mine. She was the one who found me at my darkest and took me in, showed me the light of the Maker. She saved me."

"She was there? In the flesh?" Wynne's eyes widened with awe.

Morrigan snorted. "Of course not. They were mere apparitions at best. The fact that you believed it at all proves that you truly know nothing of magic. I hope the rest of you weren't so easily fooled." She looked over the others, her eyebrows arched.

"They were very convincing," Dru muttered begrudgingly.

"Mmm, and they seemed to know a lot about our lives. Things that we have never told anyone else." Zevran gestured to Alistair. "Take the bastard prince, for example."

Alistair stiffened as everyone turned to look upon him.

"What does that mean?" Sten asked.

"Alistair can explain, he tells it better than most," Zevran said happily. He seemed rather pleased at the opportunity to expose Alistair.

"I―I, well... I..." Alistair ducked his head. He was growing a bright shade of pink.

"He's been lying to us all along. He's King Maric's bastard son and the heir to the Ferelden throne," Dru said bluntly.

Wynne gasped loudly. "Is that true?"

Alistair glared at Dru and she felt a wave of guilt hit her. It wasn't a feeling she knew well and certainly not something she enjoyed. Where was the anger she felt earlier? It was still there, bubbling beneath the surface, but as Alistair straightened himself, all she could feel was remorse. She wondered if she was a bad person, but decided that it was probably something that she shouldn't ponder on too long.