Goals Met & Nightmares Found

To say that the War Council was shocked to see Rajmael walking the path to Haven with hundreds of rebel mages behind him would have been a universal understatement. Suddenly the whole village was a lot more crowded. By the time Rajmael and Cassandra made it into the Chantry, the War Council were already having a heated debate concerning their new recruits.

"This is not a matter for debate!" Commander Cullen dictated. "There will be abominations amongst the mages, and we must be prepared."

"If we rescind the offer of an alliance, it makes the Inquisition seem incompetent at best, tyrannical at worst!" Josephine argued. "The Herald must keep his word if the Inquisition is to be taken seriously. Otherwise we have nothing."

Cullen's attention went straight to Rajmael. "How could you turn the mages loose with no oversight?! The Veil is torn open! We cannot count on the mages being in control of themselves with demons running amok!"

Rajmael returned Cullen's pissed look. "If I make prisoners or enemies out of them then we're only setting ourselves up for another Kirkwall. I will not have infighting in my own camp!"

"I know we need them for the Breach, but what about the innocent?" Cullen griped. "How many lives do we endanger if even a fifth of them fall to possession? With the Veil torn, even the threat of it…." Cullen directed his inquiry to Cassandra. "You were there, Seeker! How could you let this happen and not intervene?!"

"While I may not agree with the decision, I support it." Cassandra answered. "The sole purpose of the Inquisition's involvement in Redcliffe was to gain the mages aid, and we've accomplished that. And the Herald is right, we cannot afford any infighting within our ranks. Or amongst ourselves for that matter."

"The voice of pragmatism speaks!" Dorian joked as he leaned against a nearby column. "I actually thought your council was about to start killing each other. I'd have put my money on Josephine. She strikes me as one who'd go for the windpipe."

"Closing the Breach is all that matters." Cassandra finished, obviously annoyed with Dorian's presence.

"We need to look into 'dark future' you saw, Rajmael." Leliana asserted. "The empresses' assassination? A demon army? We must find out what these Venatori are planning."

"It does sound like something a Tevinter cult would attempt." Dorian said with a facile tone. "The most powerful empire in the south falls, the south gets torn apart by demons. And the Imperium swoops in and takes over everything. Chaos for everyone!"

"This is why swooping is bad." Leliana groaned.

"Find out what you can about this cult and their activities." Rajmael ordered. "And while we're at it, the mages are going to need more lyrium if we're going to seal the Breach. Use whatever Carta members that surrendered to us to ship they lyrium they were smuggling in Valammar. In the meantime, I'm going to look over any last minute preparations."

"I'll skip that meeting, if you don't mind. But I would like to see the Breach just a bit closes." Dorian said.

"I take it you've decided to stay?" Rajmael asked rhetorically.

"Oh? Didn't I mention? I just adore the south! What, with its frigid cold and demons running amok. It's all so rustically charming." Dorian answered smugly.

"The welcome to the Inquisition. But next time we have to jump through the portals and save the time-space continuum, you're on your own."

The Council adjourned and left to see to their duties. Josephine was quick to get to work on procuring their much needed lyrium, after quickly sealing a deal with a member of the Dwarven Merchant Guild's Mining Branch.

"You're quite effective at being an ambassador, aren't you, Josephine?" Rajmael complemented.

"I've had to be." Josephine sighed. "With the Chantry denouncing us, it has been difficult getting the support we need. I was able to secure the lyrium miners by promising them continued work."

"Does the Chantry's lack of support for the Inquisition actually harm us?"

"I'm afraid so." Josephine answered as she sat behind her desk. "The Chantry's denouncement makes us seem illegitimate. I've had to convince our allies of our intentions, how advantageous we are, as well as calling in a few favors."

Rajmael could tell that this has been quite the chore for Josephine. Indeed, it seemed that without the Chantry's approval or even their presence, many people didn't know how to anything. "How is it someone as young and lovely as you is so able to handle so many different people and conflicting challenges? I was actually expecting our ambassador to be much older and much more cantankerous."

"Oh, believe me, Herald, there are times that I feel like acting like that image." Josephine laughed lightly. "I actually credit my family for my being so effective at politics."

"Oh? Are you from a family of politicians then?"

"Ha! Not quite. We are a noble house but we are a merchant family. We have business arrangements and partners all Thedas; it was through meeting and other people from different places." Josephine explained. "And when I attended the University of Val Foveaux I learned how to put my experiences with trade to meet and negotiate with people from other cultures. And that was how I met Leliana, who brought me here in the first place."

"I take it you two are good friends?"

"Yes, we first met a soiree when I was attending to university." Josephine answered with a beaming smile. "We started talking and soon we decided to leave and go to...a real party."

Rajmael was intrigued by that look of embarrassed nostalgia on Josephine's face. "And what, pray tell, is considered a real party?"

"Let's just say it involves a goat, two bottles of Starkhaven scotch, a fire rune, and a frilly pair of undergarments." And embarrassed blush crept across Josephine's cheeks. "And that is all I'm ever going to say."

~XoXoXo~

As Rajmael went to leave the Chantry, Vivienne waved him to come talk with her. The Herald rolled his eyes and quickly lit his pipe. He knew he wasn't going to like whatever she had to say.

"If Fiona and her malcontents are joining us we need to be prepared. Abominations are inevitable" The Grand Enchanter said with disdain and concern. "Cullen does not have enough Templars under his command, more must be trained from the rank and file."

Rajmael took another drag from his pipe. "You want me to sabotage my alliance with Fiona before it even starts? That is beyond idiotic."

"There is nothing foolish about this." Vivienne said angrily. "There has been no greater threat to mages than the Breach. Until it is sealed, no one is safe."

"And you think that by treating the mages like a threat is the solution?" Rajmael balked back. "That's what started that whole mess."

"Kirkwall and the events at the White Spire was travesties, the Chantry failed in its part to protect its charges, but the aftermath lost all sympathy for mages when they proved everyone's fears to be true when they resorted to terrorism."

Vivienne almost had a full scowl on her face. Rajmael decided to see if he could make it bigger. "And it's exactly your kind of thinking that started this whole mess. If the mages are ever to have a true place in the world, then they need a chance to make their place. So we'll start by doing things my way, not your way, mine. Your way has failed."

Vivienne's face clenched into a frozen look of anger, though she did her best to try to try and keep her calm demeanor. "And when your decision to overlook the fact that magic is dangerous and leads to another mage catastrophe, do you honestly think the world will be so understanding? You're just sowing the seeds for more innocents to be slain. Mage and nonmage alike. You simply cannot apply your elven way of thinking with the rest of the world."

Smoke slowly billowed out of Rajmael's nostrils. "I seem to recall you and I having a little chat about you disrespecting my people." The Herald reminded as he rested his hand on his sword. "And I don't need to explain myself. Least of all to the likes of you."

"The likes of me?" Vivienne repeated, deeply offended. "Unlike Fiona's malcontents, I have earned my place as Imperial Enchanter."

"So you can do tricks for the Orlesian Court like a pet monkey? Whoopdee-fucking-doo! I don't need to defend my decisions from someone who has spent their whole life living up high and looking down on people, but never walking amongst them." Rajmael explained spitefully. "You with your expensive finery and soft hands, that have never seen hardship, doesn't get to lecture me. You have to earn that right, Vivienne. Oh, and do try to stop scowling so hard. It's making your face wrinkle."

Rajmael walked away with a wide grin on his face, while Vivienne just stood there completely stunned with that angry look of hers frozen on her face. Obviously no one, let alone an elf, has ever spoken to the high and mighty Imperial Enchanter like that before. Rajmael despised that high and might attitude of hers, she needed to be knocked down a few pegs. And it seemed he was just the elf to do it, and it always felt good to put shems like her in their place.

~XoXoXo~

Despite the fact that he and Dorian expiereinced time travel together, Rajmael realized he knew next to nothing about the latest addition to his party. He knew he was from Tevinter, but he wasn't the archetypical "embodiment of villainy and debauchery" that he was led to believe, and after their little adventure in the future, Dorian deserved to have a chance to prove he was otherwise.

"So, you're Dalish, that's the correct word here?" Dorian asked as if the word foreign to him.

"Dalish is the correct word everywhere." Rajmael answered.

"We…we don't have Dalish clans coming up North…for obvious reasons. Though I have heard about your people. A little. Well, just the name really, and some unsavory bedtime tales." Dorian admitted nervously. "I hope this won't be a problem, I am here to help with the Venatori after all."

"There are members of my clan who would gladly crucify you to tree, pull out your intestines and then skin you for three days while they waited for the birds and bugs to eat you alive." Rajmael answered blithely. "But after everthing we went through in Redcliffe, I'll abstain from such natural inclinations."

"Oh, well that's a relief." Dorian laughed. "After seeing what you're capable of, I'd hate to be on your bad side. I have to admit, however, I was rather surprised about your support for the mages, maybe what the world needs is an elven perspective. And maybe you're just the elf to do it."

"Why does my support got the mages surprise you?" Rajmael asked curiously.

"In Tevinter we're taught that the south is savage in the fact that it abuses mages simply for being what they are, that they lock mages in prisons and deny them the right to live, no different than a qunari sarebaas." Dorian answered. "Of course, they say that mostly to make us despise the south and to make us think that the White Chantry is out to enslave us. Still, it is odd to see how mages are treated here."

"What are Circles like in Tevinter?"

"The Circles are not prisons, like they are here. They are more like very prestigious and very exclusive academies for those gifted with magic to be educated. Of course, being Tevinter, not everyone, even mages, get treated equally. To receive the best education you must have an impressive lineage or an impressive patron. I was talented enough to have both: Magister Alexius was my patron and I was form the prestigious House Pavus, plus I excelled at anything I put my mind to." Dorian bragged with a wide grin.

Rajmael guessed there was something else behind his ego and self-accomplishment. "It sounds like you had it made in Tevinter. Why leave? Why would you stay here?"

Dorian's grin didn't leave his face, but it wasn't as happy. "Well, it's like this: I am the scion of House Pavus, the byproduct of careful breeding, and the repository hope of reviving the lost dreamers of old. And I hated being every bit of that. Simply put, my family didn't care for my choices, nor did I care for theirs, so I left."

When Rajmael was adopted by Clan Lavellan he became close to all of its members, and they all became his family. He found it extremely odd that Cassandra and Dorian spoke of their family with such disdain. "Did you and your family have a falling out?"

"More like an explosion." Dorian stated. "Every Tevinter family wants to revive the 'Ancient Glories', so they carefully select their marriages to produce an offspring and force them to try and revive that long lost glory. It's why my parents had me, never mind the fact that they hate each other. And, personally, I think that people, like Alexius and his Venatori, trying to revive our ancient glory is what destroyed our country in the first place. You saw what happened in the future, so you know exactly what such feeble minded attempts will get us."

Rajmael quirked an eyebrow curiously. "You and your family fought because you didn't want to get married?"

"Shocking, isn't it? They already picked out a lovely girl, too. Livia Herathinos." Dorian stood as though he were recalling a lovely afternoon. "Hourglass figure, bright as bonfire, and had the most wicked tongue. If I listened to my parents she and I would be wed in horrid matrimony, despising each other for the rest of our lives, or until she hired someone to kill me."

"Ah, so I see you do actually have a personality beneath all that ego." Rajmael laughed.

"What can I say? I've got looks, talent am charm, and I know it." Dorian chuckled. "What's that old saying, if you've got it, flaunt it."

"I'll let you know when we're ready to go." Rajmael waved.

"Don't worry, I'll be ready."

~XoXoXo~

"Rajmael? May I have a moment?" Leliana called from her tent. "What you told me about this future you saw disturbs me. If you would, I need you to tell me how this future came to pass, what you saw, and what happened to everyone there."

Rajmael explained what he learned during his time travel. About the assassination of Empress Celene, the invasion of a demon army that ripped the South apart, and how the Breach had consumed the entire world. After what seeing what happened to her in that horrible future, seeing her die for him, he felt she deserved to know what he saw. "I watched you die for me so that I could escape back to the past, Leliana."

"Of course I did." Leliana acknowledged calmly. "One life is small when compared to saving the world."

"That doesn't diminish your heroism. I also so the Hero of Ferelden. You were, right. He was the most fearsome son of a bitch I've ever seen." Rajmael admitted as he remembered the raging Reaver that devoured any he stood before him with his bares hands. "The two of you held of the demons to buy my time. His last words before charging them was…."

"For Ferelden?" Leliana finished with bitter sweetness. "Yes, I always knew he would die with those words on his lips if he fell in battle. Aedan loves his country more than anything. To have seen it destroyed must've broken his spirit."

"We can still save Ferelden and the rest of the world, Leliana." Rajmael promised. "None of what I saw will come to pass."

"I know. And that is why we cannot fail. We must seal the Breach and discover what these Venatori are planning if Thedas is to remain safe."

"Hopefully, without as much cannibalism." Rajmael hoped as he remembered all the enemies and body parts Aedan Cousland devoured.

"Ha. Yes. I would prefer not to take Aedan's approach to save the world, if we can avoid it." Leliana laughed.

~XoXoXo~

Varric approached the Herald with an unusually serious look on his face. Rajmael knew that whatever he had to say probably wasn't going to be good.

"Something's been bothering, Herald." Varric started. "When you and Sparkler over there went to the future, you said you saw more of that red lyrium?"

"Saw it? It was all over the place! Growing out of the ground, the walls, out of people!"

"That's what I was afraid of." Varric looked like the kid that woke up and found out he had cancer.

"This isn't the first time you've encountered this substance, Varric. In the Temple of Sacred Ashes you seemed familiar with it. What do you know about this red lyrium?"

"My brother, Bartrend, and I…discovered it." Varric confessed bleakly. "You know that tale of Hawke delving into the Deep Roads and coming back with long lost treasure?"

"One of my favorites."

"Well, while we were down there, we found an idol made of pure lyrium, but it was red. My brother stole it and left us in the Deep Roads to die. When I finally tracked him down, he'd already sold the idol, but not before the damned thing drove him so far over the deep end he slaughtered every member of his household because he thought it would help him hear the idol's song. Mother forgive me, I had no choice, I had to put Bartrend down." There was a look of deep regret painted on Varric's face as he remembered that grisly task he and Bianca did.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Varric." Rajmael said sincerely. No one should ever have to kill their own kin. "But that wasn't the end of it, was it?"

"Not by a long shot. Turns out the one who bought the damned idol was Knight-Commander Meredith. She turned the idol into mean-looking sword, and pretty soon she was hearing voices, seeing enemies everywhere, to the point where she was obviously nut." Varric continued. "I don't know if the idol made her crazy or if it just enhanced it, but whatever it did, it made Meredith inhumanly powerful. But Hawke still managed to kick her ass, and when she drew on too much of the sword's power it shattered and turned Meredith into a statue made of red lyrium."

"What in the Mythal's mercy is this stuff?" Rajmael asked shockingly.

"I honestly have no idea. I've got every mining and smith family I know watching out for the stuff, but so far nothing." Varric wiped the worried look of his face and resumed that carefree smile of his. "But that's enough doom and gloom. You just sealed an alliance with the Rebel Mages and are going to seal the Breach soon. What're you going to do to celebrate?"

"Throw the largest party this side of the Frostbacks has ever seen since the end of the Blight, get drunk, get laid." Rajmael laughed. "Not necessarily in that order."

Varric busted out laughing. "You may be an elven heretic, Lord Herald, but you're my kind of elven heretic."

~XoXoXo~

Cullen was overseeing any and all last minute preparations before the journey back to the Temple. His men checked, and rechecked all weapons, supplies and necessities the mages would need to seal the Breach. Maker willing, this would be the end of this nightmare, and the world could start healing from this crisis.

"Everything is going well, Commander Cullen?" asked the Herald as he walked behind the Commander.

"The mages stand ready to close the Breach on your order, Herald." Cullen confirmed. "By the Maker's grace, the mages will be able to accomplish this task."

"You made it adamantly clear back in the Chantry how pissed off you were about my decision to ally with the mages. Are you going you have a problem with our newest allies?"

"I'm not questioning their abilities, or even their intentions." Cullen sighed despondently. "But the risk still remains. Any contingency plan would be for the safety of the Inquisition, as well as the mages themselves."

"I don't really know much about what was going on within the Circles, or their relationship with the Chantry." Rajmael stated. "So, tell me commander, what really caused the mages and templars to be at each other's necks?"

"Where do I start?" Cullen returned with a heavy sigh.

"Why don't we start with why the Circles were dissolved, and why the templars abandoned the Chantry."

Cullen paused for a moment and thought of his explanations carefully. "Long story short? It's because the mages were denied basic rights as sentient beings and the Templars became self-righteous in holding their leash. But one thing both factions had in common; they both grew to resent the Chantry's authority over them."

Well that was new for Rajmael. "Why's that?"

"Well, with the mages it's obvious." Cullen stated. "The Chantry in its whole history has portrayed magic as dangerous at best, or as evil at worst. Denying the mages basic freedoms, to never see the light of day or even keep their own children, and only choosing to honor them after they've been used as weapons in the Chantry's wars. And to add insult to injury, they ignored the abuses that Templars inflicted on them with divine authority." Cullen stopped for a moment and Rajmael could tell that was a painful subject.

"If the Chantry gave the Templars so much leeway with the mages why are the Templars cutting off the hand that feeds them?"

"Actually, it's because that hand refused to feed them anymore." Cullen answered. "You see, most Templars believe that Chantry has used us as a military extension for so long that the Grand Clerics no longer honor the sacrifices they make."

Sacrifices? What kind of sacrifices do the Templars make that merits their crimes? "Oh? What kind of…sacrifices do the Templars make for the Chantry?" Rajmael asked sardonically.

"Plenty." Cullen responded almost defensively. "It's not like anyone with a sword can just waltz right up to the recruiter's office and pick up the Templars shield and cause. Templars are trained from an early age, sometimes even from infancy and selected breeding. But the reason for the Templars turning on the Chantry is for one simple reason; Lyrium. It's what empowers the mages magic and separate's Templars from all other warrior factions in Thedas."

Well that was unexpected. "Lyrium is poisonous to all those who aren't mages. How can Templars use it?

Cullen continued. "Templars train their bodies to take in the Lyrium so that they can project their will to disconnect mages from the Fade, and it prevents us from being susceptible to a demon's temptations. However, as you have said it's poisonous and addictive. Eventually Templars minds begin to erode from the overuse of Lyrium and many Templars have quaff the stuff down hourly just to keep sane and in great many cases Templars become husks no different than tranquil and The Chantry just disregards them. Now the Chantry is denouncing them and the Templars believe that they have forgotten all they have suffered for to keep the Chantry standing."

Now that was disturbing. Rajmael almost felt sorry for the armored transvestites. "And that's supposed to excuse them from all the harm they have inflicted in the name of the non-present deity?"

"Look at it like this: The Chantry was always force-feeding Lyrium to their warriors, knowing that it was poisonous and harmful and they did it just so that they could have a military arm to curb the mages whom the Grand Clerics have deemed dangerous and vile. And to top it all off they feed us that everything we do is with the blessings of Andraste. Now after nearly a thousand years of having that authority and being fed a dangerous element the Chantry strips that all from us and still expects us to follow the orders." Cullen stopped for a second. "Now tell me, who seems more understanding of the Maker's will, the Templars who sacrifice life, limb, and sanity or old virgins who sing all day long and feed poison to their knights?"

"Hmm?" Rajmael thought for a moment. "Well as a former Templar, are you going to have a problem with how I have handled the mages?"

"No, you faced what sounded like a terrible ordeal, and you achieved our goal." Cullen answered genuinely. "In some ways, what you're doing is probably better than what the Chantry ever did."

"Oh? How do you figure?"

"The Chantry only ever treated both the Circle of Magi and the Templar Order as serfs, extensions of their own authority, but never treated truly as equals. Perhaps, by making them your allies rather than your conscripts you can find us a new path to walk, instead of the one that lead to a thousand years of resentment. Or you'll set the precedent for more wars, only time will tell." Cullen gave a respectful nod and resumed overseeing the preparations.

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael found Cassandra arguing with an elven mage. Apparently, some of the mages were unhappy with their living quarters, they were too used to living in comfy Circle Towers and were unused to harsh living conditions, and they decided to take out their frustrations by whining at the Seeker.

"You're our allies now, not our wards." Cassandra lectured. "That means you'll have to deal with these poor conditions like the rest of us."

"But what are we supposed to do about it?" The mage growled.

"Deal. With. It." Cassandra growled back with a dangerous glare in her eyes. The mage lost his resolve and withdrew his complaint. Cassandra strutted back to her training dummies in a huff.

The Seeker was cute when she was annoyed, and she gets annoyed very easily, Rajmael thought to himself. "Ah, teaching full grown men how to not act like children. You're living the dream, Seeker Cassandra."

"I just don't know who told them that I'm the one they should yell at." Cassandra protested. "These mages are our allies now, they need to get used to what that means. This is your doing, after all. You created this alliance."

Well, now she was making him feel lousy. "I just got done traipsing through time and space, I didn't exactly have time to wonder about the little things."

Suddenly Cassandra realized that she was acting no different than that mage. "Oh. I do sound like I'm blaming you, don I? I don't disapprove, in fact, you did well. Not many could make such a critical decision during such a grave moment. And here we are now, I wish I could say that this was my doing."

Rajmael smiled gently at Cassandra as the memory of how she stood against the demons flooded back to his mind. "You truly are an amazing woman, you know?"

Cassandra couldn't help but feel awkward and blush as he spoke and smiled at her thusly. "You're being t-too kind, Rajmael. I did nothing that is truly praise-worthy."

"I'd be dead if it weren't for you, Cassandra." Rajmael confessed. "In the future, you stood your ground against an army of demons to give me and Dorian enough time to return. And you're the one who started this Inquisition. I wouldn't be where I am now if it weren't for you, and the courage you possess."

Cassandra felt her heart racing in her chest. Why did he talk to her this way, and why did it make her feel like this? "Did…ahem. Did I say anything to you before the end?"

Rajmael fondly remembered that single moment of doomed passion they shared. "You…you told me that you had no regrets. Even when the world was ending you still followed me."

Cassandra's heart almost stopped. Was this true, or was he just telling her what he thought she'd want hear? "Well…good. I'm pleased to see my decision to follow you wasn't misplaced." Rajmael just stood there and continued to smile at her like that. "Let us go seal the Breach. Now. Then we can see how little I regret."

Cassandra shuffled away from Rajmael as casually as she could. The elf took the time admire The Seeker's well-formed ass as she walked away. Cassandra was cute when she was embarrassed, but he wouldn't say that to her face, he liked not having his nose broken.

There was one last thing Rajmael had to do before his sojourn back to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. He found himself a nice quiet spot and placed the small totems he carried of his gods on a small boulder. The images of Sylaise, Dirthamen, Falon'Din, Mythal and Fen'Harel, made of stone, wood and glass. Rajmael lit a candle before the totems and reached into his satchel and grabbed a handful of seeds from inside. Magic glowed gently and warmly within his hand as the seeds grew into a colorful bouquet of flowers. Rajmael gently laid the flowers down and sprinkled fragrant tree moss over them. He slid his knife against his own palm and squeezed the blood over the moss, flowers and candle. His offering to the gods was complete, hopefully this would incur their favor and they would hear his prayer.

"Sylaise, Hearth-Keeper, protect Haven and all who dwell within as I return to place where the Beyond bleeds. Dirthamen, Keeper of Secrets, reveal to me the path I must take, and show to me the secrets I must unlock to face my hidden enemies. Mythal, goddess of justice, Mother and Destroyer, grant me your protection as I walk this path laden with trials. Falon'din, Friend of the Dead, let your halla find me and guide me to my rest, should the worst come to pass. Fen'harel, Dread Wolf and trickster, I ask thee to look away from me, and bare your fangs down upon my enemies. Las ar enasalin, ten las ar atishan."

With his offerings and prayer complete, Rajmael gathered the others and made their way back to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and the Breach.

The Temple of Sacred Ashes

The Breach crackled with power, and disrupted the natural state of the temple. Rocks floated in the air as though they were sponges in water, and the air was filled with a natural heat and acrid odor, as though they were near a volcano. The only upside to being back here was there were no longer any demons roaming about.

Rajmael stood before the Breach where he first stabilized it. The mark burned in his hand as he felt it connecting him to the massive portal to the Fade. Cassandra and Solas stood on either side of him, ready to begin, as the best of the mages stood at attention around the ruins, waiting for their signal, ready to serve.

The Seeker and the apostate turned to those they had gathered, ready to begin.

"Mages!" Cassandra called, and they listened.

"Focus you magic past the Herald!" Solas instructed. "Let his will guide you!"

Rajmael could feel the will of the mages flow through him like a river of power, strengthening his connection with the Breach. The mark crackled and burned like wild fire, the power from the Breach was almost overwhelming, but he stood strong. Rajmael lifted his hand skywards toward the Breach and a blaze of green power surged from his palm and connected to void in the sky. He could feel the foreign magic mending the massive tear in the Veil, its power blazing throughout heaven for all the world to see. The temple exploded in a blast of pure energy and sent Rajmael and all the other occupants flying off their feet. When they got up a sense of joy filled the air for the first time in the Temple since before the Conclave, as they looked up to the sky and found it clear, and unblemished. The crisis was over.

~XoXoXo~

That night at Haven was filled with song and revelry as everyone in the Inquisition celebrated the Herald's triumph in sealing the Breach. Researcher Minaeve and Seggrit danced around a fire with Flissa and Quartermaster Threnn. Even that stuffy Apothecary Adan allowed himself to laugh and drink heartily.

Rajmael's companion's all celebrated in their own ways together. Varric and Blackwall were in the middle of a drinking contest with involving two mugs of malt beer chased by rye whiskey. Blackwall was from some hearty stock, but Rajmael's money was on the dwarf. Iron Bull was surrounded by five tavern girls who he let take turns feeling his muscles, while they served his men drinks. Leliana allowed herself to smile and laugh with Josephine and the other Chantry sisters, while Cullen stood solemnly by himself. Solas was nowhere to be seen. Vivienne slowly sipped and savored her wine with a faint smile on her face, while Dorian used his Northern charms to brag about himself around a group of swooning lasses. And Sera…was eating a whole roasted goose, two legs of lamb, six baked potatoes, eight mugs of beer and four cherry pies. Did she have a Rift in her stomach or a tapeworm?

Rajmael stood at the top of the hill next to the Chantry, his pipe in hand, as he watched his companions' merriment while his free hand rubbed his amber amulet. It was almost like the celebrations they would have back in his clan. As he smoked, he heard the familiar footfall that could only belong to Cassandra.

"Solas confirms that the heavens are scarred but calm. The Breach is sealed." Cassandra reported. "We've lingering reports of other Rifts, and many questions remain, but this was a great victory. Word of your heroism has spread quickly. Now all that is left is to find and route out this Venatori cult."

Rajmael chuckled as smote the flame in his pipe. "Let's handle those worries tomorrow, Cassandra. For now, let's enjoy this victory." Rajmael bowed invitingly to the Seeker before him. "Would you do me the honor of a dance, Lady Seeker?"

Cassandra smile hesitantly, and reluctantly took his hand. Rajmael's hand gently took hers, while his other hand glided down the small of her back as she held on to him. Cassandra was nervous and he could tell. Her face was painted with a nervousness reserved for the eve of a Blight, it made her even cuter.

Sweet Maker, I'm not good at this, Cassandra thought to herself as Rajmael gently led her to the rhythm of the music. Cassandra could hardly bring herself to look him in the eyes. Why was this so hard? She's stared down apostates, royalty and even dragon, yet she couldn't bring herself to look at his…beautiful golden eyes.

"So tell me, Seeker. Do you have any regrets now?" Rajmael asked warmly.

"Not as much as I thought I would." Cassandra answered sheepishly.

As the two waltzed, Rajmael felt something in the back of his mind. Like a thought an annoying thought was buzzing its way into the back of his skull. Something was whispering to him. "He is coming." Rajmael dropped to his knee as a horribly familiar burning pain shot through brain.

"Rajmael? What's wrong?!" Cassandra asked frantically.

Rajmael rose from his knees and looked off into the distance. "He is here!"

Cassandra looked in the direction Rajmael was gazing and became assertive and drew her sword. "What the…? We have to get to the front gates!"

Alarm bells rung throughout he village as the mountain pass and ridges became ablaze with torchlight, and an entire army emerged from the blackness of night. The soldiers all scrambled to their posts as Cullen shouted commands.

"Forces approaching! Man your stations!" Cullen ordered.

Rajmael and his companions and council members rushed to the front gates as everyone, soldier, clergymen and laborer scrambled to their positions.

"Cullen?" Cassandra asked.

"One watch guard reporting. It's a massive force, the bulk of the army is just over the mountain." Cullen reported.

"What standard are they flying?" Josephine asked.

"They aren't flying any." Cullen answered.

"They aren't?" Josephine repeated.

"Well, it's a good thing I didn't really get started on that drinking contest. I'd have hated to humiliate Blackwall right before the eve of battle." Varric bragged.

"You're only saying that because if you and I really got into it, you'd be too drunk to aim that crossbow of yours." Blackwall retorted.

"Drunk of sober, Bianca and I make magic happen." Varric laughed.

"This isn't the time for jokes, Varric!" Cassandra growled.

"Now, calm down, Seeker. The laughter just hides the fear. Right, Blackwall?"

"Right."

The gates were sealed shut, but there was some heavy pounding going on outside of it. It was accompanied by the sudden sound of ripping flesh and death cries as something went through and cut down the assailants on the other side.

Then there was a most unexpected polite knock on the gates. "Please let me in? I can't come in unless you open the doors." A meek voice called. It was the same voice that was speaking in Rajmael's mind.

"Please let me in?" Dorian repeated jokingly. "Well, when an invader's that polite you simply have to comply."

Rajmael signaled his men to open the doors, as he and Cullen exited the village, there was one of those giant Venatori soldiers they encountered in the future wielding a massive axe and wearing a Tevinter style lock-helmet. Blood spurted in thick ropes from the massive soldier's back, and fell with a thud, revealing his killer standing behind him.

It was a scrawny young man wearing poorly sewn, patchwork clothing, and a wide brimmed hat that practically covered his deathly pale face. He held a sharp, double-edged dagger in each hand that was slick with blood.

"I am Cole." The pale young m stated desperately. "I came here to help, to warn you. Bad people are coming here to hurt you. You probably knew that already."

"What the fuck is going on? Who are these soldiers? How did you get into my head?!" Rajmael demanded.

"The Templars have come to kill you." Cole answered ominously.

"Templars!?" Cullen declaimed. "Is this the Order's response for our alliance with the mages? Attacking blindly?"

"They are not blind." Cole answered. "They went to the Elder One." The boy looked at Rajmael from under his hat with haunting clarity in his eyes. "You know him, and he knows you. You took his mages. Look there."

Cole pointed to the edge of a cliff where two menacing figures watched their army descend upon their foes. One was a man in his early forties clad in glowing red armor. He had a weasel-faced head with grimy, matted hair, and disturbing smile filled with crooked teeth and sullen eyes. In his hands he held a greatsword that looked like it was forged from pure red lyrium and gave off a sickening aura, Rajmael could feel it from all the way over here.

"Wait, that man…I know him." Cullen remembered. "But that sword. It can't be. It was destroyed with Meredith!"

The secondary figure materialized from a pillar of smoke, and it was unlike anything Rajmael could have imagined. A deathly gaunt creature of looming height, wearing dark, holy robes of an ancient time long left behind by history. Its face was almost…human, and twisted with anger and growths of blighted corruption beneath a hooded skull, with red lyrium fused to its very being. This creature seemed to be twisted amalgam of the Blight, ancient dark magic, and whatever power the vile red lyrium gave.

Rajmael somehow recognized the Elder One. Like a memory from a forgotten nightmare. What in Ghilan'nain's guidance was that thing?

"He is very angry that you took his mages." Cole emphasized.

"Cullen, we need a plan, and we need it right fucking now." Rajmael stated.

"Haven is no fortress." Cullen answered. "If we are to stand against that monster, we must control the battle. Get out there and hit them with all the force you can!" Cullen pointed over to the trebuchets. He drew his sword and turned to the mages who gathered to defend this place. "Mages! You have sanction to engage them! That is Samson! He will not go easy, and he will not show mercy! You must respond in kind! We are the Inquisition! With The Herald! For your lives, for all of us!"

At Cullen's order, the mages rained down fire, lightning and ice down upon the advancing army, the narrow mountain pass made them easy targets, and smashed their vanguard. But the templars were ready. Using their powers to weaken and disable mage, they were able to weaken some of the attacks launched at them, and continued with the assault.

Rajmael and his companions would hold the line, none of these wretched templars would pass them. Something was different about the templars, they weren't the same as the ones he fought back in the Hinterlands. Holy Falon'din. These, templars, all of them, were infused with red lyrium! How is this possible?

Rajmael could sense the tainted lyrium in their veins like an infection. Some of the templars had it growing so profoundly that it was cracking beneath their armor and shining through like a broken shell. And these warriors were stronger and faster than any templar he had encountered before. Was this all thanks to the red lyrium?

"Protect the trebuchets!" Rajmael ordered. "We're going to bring the whole weight of the mountain down on them!"

"You bastards dare where Andraste's flaming sword!?" Cassandra screamed as she engaged her tainted enemies. "You will regret this heresy!" The enraged Seeker planted her sword into the ground took a knees as though to pray, and a wave energy erupted from her, striking down the surrounding templars as she purged the surrounding lyrium around her.

The red lyrium crumbled and disintergrated from the templars' bodies thanks to Cassandra's attack. The sudden lyrium withdrawal killed some, while others had the red ore fused to their bodies just explode and reveal the naked skeletons beneath the grotesque crystals.

"This can't be happening." Rajmael heard Varric whisper beneath the heat of combat. "I'm stone-drunk back at the Hanged Man, with Isabella spiking my drinks and picking my pockets while Hawke and Sunshine laugh at me. These templars, and especially THAT guy, are all just a bad dream! Wake up, Varric. WAKE UP!"

Shooting these templar center mass did nothing, so Varric had to aim every shot, every bolt, into their red glowing noggins. Bianca's aim was perfect, but there were just too many of them, and they just kept coming. Varric wasn't going to let them get any closer. Varric reached into his coat and grabbed a fist full of his homemade land mines and threw them in front of the advancing enemy. The instant one poor sucker stepped on a single mine, his leg blew off and set off a chain reaction that made a dozen more templar explode like crystalline fireworks. "Eat dust, nug humpers!"

"Now this is how to have a party!" Iron Bull bellowed as he waded into the red templars' vanguard swining his giant axe to and fro, cleaving every tainted knight that was sorry enough to get within his range open, in half, down the middle and every other possible way Bull could swing. Some of the templars were able to evade Bull's attacks, and managed to land a few bloody strikes on the massive qunari with their sharp blades. But all they did was make the giant oxe-man mad. What was the old saying? Mess with the Bull and you get the horns? His own blood spilt, Iron Bull became drunk on a Blood Frenzy as his own pain made him attack with greater force, Rampaging like a madman as rained death and horror down on the surrounding templars.

Solas fought in the back ranks with Dorian and Vivienne as all three of them gave cover fire for their companions and as trebuchets continued to fire. Vivienne's magic was strong, but her rigid Circle training allowed her to only act as a blunt instrument, hammering against the large force attacking them, but yielding no immediate results. Dorian's magic was more practical, but more flashy, and Dorian was as flashy as they come. Tevinter styled magic was always out to prove to the world how powerful or extravagant it was, and took more time to charge with effect. It was time for a more effective approach.

"Solas, what are you doing?" Vivienne asked as the apostate ceased his attacks and walked towards the approaching soldiers.

"The smart thing to do is stay away from the men with swords, who want to kill us." Dorian added.

"I fear a more efficacious method is required for these particular enemies." Solas stated. The elf's staff glowed with a strange green energy as he circled it over his head, then raised his arms into the air as he summoned some kind of portal over him, a tear in the Veil. Flaming meteorites rained out of the Fade and down upon the red templars like a storm and decimated the front ranks, the devastation that Solas unleashed came as a shock to everyone.

With the frontal assault disrupted, Rajmael had enough time to get the engineers to aim the trebuchet at the opposite mountainside. The giant war engine launched its projectile with great force and accuracy towards its target. Their forces all cheered when the force of the impact shook the mountain and made an avalanche slid down and crush their advancing enemy.

The cheers of victory against the enemy were soon replaced by a feeling of dread as a massive, dark figure flew and blocked the sky with a thunderous, ear splitting roar that that shook the very ground, and a gigantic ball of colored fire smashed down upon one of the trebuchet stations. The creature looked like a high dragon, only bigger.

Screams filled the air as the men burned alive and shrapnel ripped apart everyone nearby.

"No. That can't be!" Blackwall denied with dread.

"Is that an Archdemon!?" Dorian cried.

"Whatever it is, it's coming back this way!" Sera screamed as the dragon swooped down, breathing fire down on them.

Archdemon or dragon, whichever it was, it flew over Haven with its dreadful, powerful wings breathed its colored flame down on the village. Smoke and flame burned within Haven's walls.

"Everyone, fall back!" Rajmael ordered. Before he could run to back to the village walls, he had to get to the stables, he had to make sure Neirin escaped.

The forge was on fire, but smith Harrit managed to escape, but the fire was spreading to the stables. Master Dennit was able to herd most of the horses out, but he couldn't get Neirin to leave. The loyal halla refused to abandon his companion.

"Master Dennit, get to safety!" Rajmael bid as he got to his halla. "Neirin! Ma nada shiral anan!" The halla stubbornly stamped its hooves and shook his antlers, refusing to listen. Rajmael sternly grabbed the Halla behind the ear and led it out of the stable. The enemy was getting closer, there was no more time. "Go! Find me again!" Rajmael smacked Neirin's flank and the white halla finally ran away from danger. "Ghilan'nain, ghilana ir lethalan dar anetha." Rajmael prayed as he watched his beloved halla run away.

~XoXoXo~

The mages, the soldiers and his companions ran back to the gates of Haven and hoped the walls were sturdy enough to the enemy back.

"Move it. Move it!" Cullen called as he waited for everyone to get back inside. As soon as they were all inside, Cullen shut and bolted the gate. "We need everyone to get to the chantry, it's only building that might hold against that…beast. At this point, all we can do is make those bastards work for it."

Rajmael heard the fires roaring as they burned the village, and the people screaming around him. He prayed to Sylaise for protection, and she didn't answer. Now he was going to have to answer his own prayer. Templars were making their way over the walls and laying siege to the village, he had to save as many people as he could. "Everyone, break off into groups and fan out through the village, save as many people as you can. Kill any templar who gets in your way. Cullen, Cassandra, Varric you're with me!"

Blackwall, led Solas and Vivienne. Iron Bull took Sera and Dorian. All three groups took different routes throughout the village and saved as many of their people as they could from the burning debris and crazed templars. With their rescued members in tow, they made it to the safety of the chantry where Chancellor Roderick was holding the doors for the rest of the survivors.

"Quickly! Get inside! The Chantry is your salvation!" Roderick cried as he leaned against the chantry door. Rajmael realized that he was bleeding profoundly from a wound on his chest. Cole assisted the Chancellor inside and sealed the door behind him.

"He tried to stop a templar. The blade went deep. He is going to die." Cole said with Roderick's arm slumped over him.

"What a charming boy." Roderick groaned with his usual charm.

"Rajmael! Our position is not good." Cullen informed despondently. "That dragon stole back whatever time you bought for us. They'll swarm the whole village soon."

"I've seen an Archdemon. I was in the Fade, but it looked exactly like that." Cole informed dismally.

"It could look like lemon-pie for all I care!" Cullen spurned. "All I know is that it's cut a path for that whole army. They'll kill everyone in Haven!"

"The Elder One doesn't care about Haven. He only wants the Herald." Cole revealed with attitude of a mopey child. "But he'll kill everyone in the village simply because they're in his way. I don't like him."

Cullen couldn't believe what this kid was saying. "You don't like…? Herald, we have no defenses. There are tactics to make this assault survivable. The only pause in the army was that avalanche. If we can turn the last trebuchet, can bury them all in one last slide."

"Are you insane, Cullen?" Rajmael rejected. "That'll bury everyone in the village!"

"We're going to die here, there's little we can do stop that." Cullen resigned remorsefully. "All we can do at this point is try to take as many of them with us as we can."

Roderick shook his head dismally, to accomplish what they needed to only to be crushed by their true enemy. Then an epiphany came to his mind as he remembered something, something that he never gave much mind to until now.

Cole could see the realization on Roderick's face as he looked down the chantry hall. "Yes. That can help." Cole confirmed as though he knew what Roderick was thinking. "Chancellor Roderick has an idea. He wants to say it before he dies."

"There is a path. You wouldn't know it unless you made the summer pilgrimage, as I have." Roderick revealed as he painfully tried to pick himself up. "The people can escape. She must have shown me. Andraste must've shown me the way…to tell you."

"A path? What're you talking about Roderick?" Rajmael inquired.

"T-ten years ago, I was one of Chantry members sent to reclaim Haven after the Hero of Ferelden discovered the Temple of Sacred Ashes. With so many dead at the Conclave, I am the only one who remembers the hidden path." The dying chancellor explained with a look of regret. "If this simple memory can save us, it could be more than mere accident. You could be more than what I believed."

Rajmael knew what he needed to do. There was no more room for guessing or contemplation. "That dragon's after me. I'll lure it away while you led the people to safety."

"And when the mountain falls? What about you?" Cullen asked.

"I survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes." Rajmael answered with faux humor. "With Andruil's blessing, my luck will hold."

"Your luck will be better with steel backing you up." Cassandra added. "I'll make sure that it holds."

"Sorry, but I believe that man and a woman should be married first, before they follow each other to the grave, Cassandra." Rajmael said sarcastically.

"Keeping you alive is my duty." Cassandra reminded. "And you chances of surviving a dragon attack are more likely with a Pentaghast at your side."

"I'm coming too, Rajmael." Varric stated. "I've got a bit of a personal stake in this fight. Besides I've survived more impossible odds than any dwarf in living history. Maybe my good luck can rub off on you out there."

Solas also stepped forward to join the Herald. "I came here to help you seal the Breach. It's only fitting that I join you to face those who opened it in the first place."

Rajmael was humbled by the fact that those who first followed at the beginning of this Inquisition would now probably follow him into death. There was nobody else he'd rather face his final destination with.

"Occupy the Elder One and his pet until we're above the tree line. We'll signal you when we're ready." Cullen hoped as he turned to the rest of his soldiers and the Herald's companions. "Inquisition! Follow Chancellor Roderick through the chantry, our only job is to keep the people safe. Move!"

Cole slung Roderick's arm over his shoulder once more and assisted him down the hall, but not before Roderick said one last thing to Rajmael. "Herald…if you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this, and this is all happening for a reason, then I pray for you."

~XoXoXo~

The Herald, The Seeker, The Apostate, and Varric emerged from the Chantry to find the village a smoldering ruin with the tainted red templars pillaging the ravaged buildings. Rajmael's eyes and vallaslin burned with power as Varric cocked Bianca, Cassandra cracked her knuckles, and Solas cracked a small smile. They were going to turn this village into the templars' grave.

They knew where they had to go, the last remaining trebuchet wasn't that far. They simply had to murder every red templar that stood in their way. Rajmael and Cassandra cut down every enemy in their path; Rajmael threw blades of ethereal energy from his sword that bypassed the templars armor and lascerated the flesh underneath as Cassandra purged the lyrium from the templars bodies and skewered them with her longsword.

Varric and Bianca fired shot after well aimed shot between the eyes of every sorry duster that came their way. And for those unfortunate few who got to close, Varric threw a line of Elemental Mines in front of them that exploded in a mix of fire, ice, lightning and metal shrapnel that ripped them to pieces.

With his knowledge and connection to the Fade, Solas manipulated the very Veil to attack the templars. Even they could not protect themselves as he bent the reality around them. He tapped into the Fade and manipulated the Veil into form a fist and smashed the templars out of his way. He struck the air with his staff and summoned a boulder from the Fade that flew into a group of adversaries and sent them flying, the shattered shards spread out and pierced the armor and arteries of even more templars.

They finally reached the trebuchet with only one templar standing in their path. Strange. Even with the red lyrium grafted to his body, was he truly so foolish to stand against them by himself?

"Stop!" The templar called in a hollow, echoing voice. "In the name of the Elder One, you shall not pass me."

"And how to you plan to stop us, shit-for-brains!? Rajmael challenged.

The templar screamed a horrible war cry with chunks of wet red lyrium flying from underneath his visor. They heard the sound of his muscles tearing and bones cracking from underneath his armor, as his body expanded. His tunic ripped, and his armor shattered, as the red lyrium closed around his body like a chrysalis that transformed his very physiology. His transformation complete, he stood the size of an actual giant, with bits of his tattered armor hanging from his body that was no longer covered, but made out of red lyrium. His head was cocooned in his broken helmet and rested on disproportionately gigantic torso held up by two deformed legs. His lyrium-constructed arms were twice the length, his left hand was completely encased in lyrium in the shape of a giant sickle. He stood before them no longer a man, or a templar, but a Behemoth.

They all gazed at the towering abomination made of religious fanaticism and that vile red ore. How was consuming this element capable of making such monsters?

"IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO?!" Rajmael challenged. The titanic creature swung its scythe-like fist at the Herald, a wave of spiked lyrium speared upward as it dragged against the earth. Rajmael phased away from the attack and threw a spitfire of lightning bolts at the enemy. The barrage assault sent the things doubling back.

The Behemoth screamed as two crossbow bolts landed right into his eye sockets. "Say hello to Bianca, you bastard!" Varric yelled.

Solas muttered a spell beneath his breath as a stream of frost hosed down the giant monstrosity. The pillar of cold froze the creature while cooling down the energy and intense heat of the red lyrium.

With the monster frozen by Solas' spell, Cassandra charged in close with her shield then planted her sword into the creature's disgustingly deformed legs and summoned the Wrath of Heaven. A pillar of light erupted from her sword and purged the tainted presence of the vile lyrium and blew the thing's legs off from under it.

The now legless torso of a monstrosity fell with a boom and a shrilling scream. Rajmael's shimmering shield flashed like starlight as he lunged with his sword like a lance, blazing with veilfire. The sylvanwood blade pierced through the Behemoth's crystalline epidermis and dived through the monstrosity's body and it shattered into a million, glass-pieces.

With pieces of the Behemoth scattered all over the ground, the Herald and his companions readied the loaded trebuchet and aimed it towards the mountainside. One way or another, this was the end of Haven. As they waited for the signal from Commander Cullen, they heard the familiar beating of powerful wings, followed by a powerful cry from a dragon's maw. Rajmael looked to the sky and saw the dragon diving right at them.

"Move. Move! MOVE!" Rajmael screamed as a colored ball of flame came hurdling straight for them. It landed, the explosion sent them flying and destroyed the trebuchet. His pointed ears were ringing worse than a hangover as he tried wake himself from the concussive blow of the explosion. He looked back to the smoldering ruins of the trebuchet. With the war engine destroyed, they had no means of bringing the mountain down on their enemy, but that was the least of Rajmael's worries right now. His biggest concern was the looming, vile figure that emerged from the destruction. It was the Elder One.

Rajmael quickly rose to his feet to meet his enemy when he felt the earth shaking behind him and found the corrupted dragon landing behind him. It stopped just far enough to cut off Rajmael's escape, and close enough for him to feel its breath.

"ENOUGH!" The Elder One ordered with a voice laced with power and anger.

Trapped between an unholy mage and a massive dragon, Rajmael stood his ground and held his stance against The Elder One.

"Pretender!" The Elder One accused vilely. "You mettle in forces beyond you ken! No more."

~XoXoXo~

Cassandra and the other two made it the mountain pass outside of the village when she that Rajmael wasn't with them. She looked back and saw sprawled back and saw him facing down the Elder One with that dragon bearing down on him. Fear and panic gripped her heart as she turned to go back for him, but was stopped by Solas.

"We have to save Rajmael!" Cassandra yelled as she tried get past the mage.

"No! We need to make sure the rest of the Inquisition survives past this night." Solas argued.

"He'll be killed!" Cassandra screamed, he heart aching. "We cannot leave him!"

"Have faith in the Herald!" Solas advocated fervently. "If we go back now, then we'll all die here."

Cassandra took a moment regain her composure as she looked back down to the village as Rajmael stood alone. "And what of Rajmael?"

"Pray that his gods stand with him." Solas responded as he made his way back up the path.

She knew there was nothing she could do for him. Cassandra had no choice, she had to leave, even though her heart screamed for her to go back. O Holy Maker, watch over this man now in his moment of need. She prayed as she retreated.

~XoXoXo~

"What…What the fuck are you?" Rajmael demanded.

"Something more." The Elder One answered with finality and revilement. "Mortals always look to the gods to provide them answers, just as I once did. They are always left with SILENCE. But no longer. Know me. Know what you've merely pretended to be." The creature spoke and raised its arms as though it were speaking to a congregation. "Exalt The Elder One! The will that is Corypheus! You will kneel."

"I am walker of the Lonely Path!" Rajmael denied. "I will never submit!"

"You will resist." Corypheus scoffed. "You will always resist. It matters not." The Elder One produced a strange orb in his hand, and it somehow seemed familiar to Rajmael. "I am here for the Anchor. The porcess of removing it starts now." The orb blazed red and a column of red energy, the Elder One extended his large, clawed hand as it glowed with the same energy.

The mark in Rajmael's hand crackled and burned as it involuntarily raised and was pulled by whatever force Corypheus was wielding. Red energy surged forth from Corypheus' hand and connected to the Anchor in Rajmael's palm. The Herald's arm was on fire as he felt the creature's magic trying to erase the Anchor from his hand. The pain was so intense it almost sent Rajmael to his knees.

"It is your fault 'Herald'." Corypheus denounced with disgust. "You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose. Something no petulant elf is capable, or worthy of wielding." The pain and energy inensified with a flick of his claw. "I do not know how you survived, but what you claim as 'touched', what you flail at Rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens." Corypheus closed his fist and Rajmael was finally driven to his knees in horrible agony. He could feel the dragon circling around him, and smell its rancid breath. "And you used the Anchor to undo my work! You, a thin-blooded descendant of slaves! The gall!"

"What the fuck is this thing?!" Rajmael demanded as he held back screaming in pain.

"It is the tool to bring the answers mortals always seek. To answer the silence" The creature enlightened spitefully. "To bring certainty where there is none. For you, the certainty that I would always come for it." Corypheus ceased his spellbinding and grabbed Rajmael's marked arm, effortlessly raising him into the air, as though the elf weighted nothing. "I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to service the Old Gods of the empire in person. I found only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. No more. I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own, champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world." Corypheus dangled Rajmael's face in front of his own, his hollow pale eyes meeting Rajmael's golden one. "Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods. And it was empty!"

Breached the heavens in the name of the Old Gods? Found only corruption and chaos amidst an empty throne? A sense of hellish dread welled up inside Rajmael as he realized that his creature was in fact the enemy of all life, and a creature such as this has already brought ruin and destruction down upon the world. Amidst the fear and rage that swirled within Rajmael, he remembered the favor Aedan Cousland asked him back in that future time they met in. Rajmael hocked in his throat and spat hatefully in the Elder One's eye. "FUCK YOU!"

"YOU DARE!?" The Elder One screamed as he threw the impudent half way across the yard. "The Anchor is permanent. You have spoilt the Anchor with your meddling."

Rajmael drew the enasalin and stood his ground.

Corypheus and his vile dragon drew closer with heavy steps. "So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give this wretched world the empire-and god—it requires."

Rajmael looked beyond the Elder One and his pet, and saw Cullen's safety flare flying against the night sky. Everyone was safe, but without the trebuchets he couldn't bring the mountain down on these fuckers.

Corypheus' face twisted with hate and anger. "But you. I will not suffer even an unknowing rival, much less a stumbling elf rat, stand against me. You must die."

An insane though stuck Rajmael's mind. There's a technique that only the ancient Arcane Warriors wielded, one that separated them from all warrior throughout history. It was time to put the legend to the test.

"Hey, asshole! Is that your pet, or your fuck-buddy!?" Rajmael laughed as he sheathed his sword. "Why don't you try letting your bitch do your dirty work for you, since everything else you've tried to do has worked out so well thus far?! Ah-haha-ha!"

"You DARE!?" Corypheus raised his hand, and the dragon reared back its massive head on serpentine neck for an attack.

This was the moment of truth, all his faith to this. The dragon spat a massive ball of tainted flame from its maw. Time slowed to a crawl as the burning sphere of flame bared down on the Herald. He could feel the inferno burning his skin, just like the witches pyre he burned on as a child. And in that same instant, Rajmael energized his Shimmering Shield, drew his sword.

"ENASALIN!" Rajmael's war cry rang throughout the Frostbacks once more as he deflected the dragon's burning projectile towards the mountain side. The mountains rumbled and shook as a tidal wave of snow and rocks cascaded down on Haven.

The Elder One and his pet gazed upon the oncoming destruction while Rajmael made a break for it. Seeing there was that the mountain would finish his rival, Corypheus climbed his dragon and flew away from Haven. Rajmael could feel the avalanche getting closer as it shook the ground. Where were the Creators when he needed him?!

Then Dirthamen smiled at him from the corner of his eye. Rajmael saw a nearby precipice and remembered Cassandra mentioning that there were tunnels all over this mountain. As the avalanche swallowed the valley, Rajmael took a leap of faith and dived into the hole and into the darkness below.

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael fell down the dark chasm and landed in some tunnel further down the mountainside. With no other option available, he navigated his way out and found himself outside in the lower valleys. He had to find the others.

Rajmael walked out into the snow and towards the direction he remembered the flare flew from. A snow storm picked up, the clouds blocked out the moonlight, but his elven night vision helped him. The further he walked in this unforgiving cold, the more he could feel the effects of his battle wearing down on him. He was sore, tired, defeated. He couldn't go any further and collapsed down in to bitter white snow.

Rajmael could hear the wolves rustling through the tree line, but he was too beaten to even attempt to get away. Too tired to move, and all his mana spent with the wolves watching him, Rajmael knew he was about to die. Perhaps the Dread Wolf had finally come to claim his soul. Suddenly, he heard the wolves run away and slink off back into the forest, as a halla white as snow trotted towards him. Falon'din, Friend of the Dead and Dirthamen's twin brother, had sent his messenger to bring Rajmael to the Beyond.

"Ma ghilana mir din'an." Rajmael whispered as he reached out to the halla.

Another figure appeared out into the snow and drove the wolves away as Rajmael's vision began to fade. A figure so beautiful and strong, that it could only be the goddess Andruil. She came close, torch in hand, as Rajmael reached out to her. "My goddess arrives."

Then his world faded completely into blackness.

Language Codex:

Las ar enasalin, ten las ar atishan: Elven. Roughly translated, "Grant me victory, or grant me peace".

Ma nada shiral anan: Elven. Roughly translated, "You must leave from this place".

Ghilan'nain, ghilana ir lethalan dar anetha: Prayer, elven. Roughly translated, "Ghilan'nain, guide my friend to safety".

Ma ghilana mir din'an: Elven. Roughly translated, "Guide me to my death".

Enasalin: Elven. Literally, "Victory".