Rajmael of Clan Lavellan

by Powerslammer

Rajmael is an elf possessed of great pride and an incredible power. Born with a powerful name and a greater destiny, he has lived his whole life by the the Vir Tanadhal. And now he must use his ancient knowledge to stand against forces that threaten his world and everything he loves. Watch as he stands as a Dalish Elf, a Herald and as The Inquisitor. Please, please review.

24. Betrayal of The Grey: Part III

Betrayal of The Grey: Part III

There was nothing. The world had erupted into a blinding green light that had consumed all of them. But just as quickly as it swallowed them, it spat them back out. Were they falling down, or falling down? Gravity was so different now. The ground was fast approaching, and Rajmael feared this was the part where his vallaslin gets smeared into paste, along with the rest of his being. But then he stopped right above, or was it below, the ground, it was just a few inches from his face. This was beyond weird, but completely welcome, considering he wasn't splattered on the ground, or was it the roof? Then gravity kicked back in, and Rajmael landed flat on his face.

"Ow! Damn it!" Rajmael cursed as he rubbed his nose. Now he knew he was definetly on the ground. "Where in Ghilanain's holy name are we!?" The whole world around him was like a hazy limbo conjured from a fevered dream. Rocks, mountains and whole landscapes floating in the air, suspended over a void of endless nothing. The landscape around him looked like something out of a nightmare. Twisted statues of horror and agony, streams and pools of of a vile green liquid he dare not even call water soaked the ground and flowed from the stony walls. Veins and columns of spiraling lyrium sprung from the ground, pulsing with life. Everything was dark, forboding, even the light in this sunless place was had an air of terror glowing from it. And everywhere he looked there were wisps and minor spirits roamed this place, weeping, screaming and wailing in terror. Rajmael knew where he was now, he had been here before. As a mage, he'd been to this place his whole life. "Mythal enaste….This cannot be."

Everyone stood up on the foreign soil, dusting themselves off and trying to get a sense of where they were.

"What happened? Where are we?" Stroud groaned. He was standing on a wall as though he were a spider.

"If this is the afterlife, then the Chantry owes me an apology." Hawke jibed as he stood upside down on a stone outcropping. "This doesn't look like the side of the Maker, more like his backside."

"No. This is the Fade. The Inquisitor opened a Rift and we fell through. I believe we are in the Fade." Stroud answered.

"I never thought I'd ever find myself here physically. Look! Over there, the Black City. Almost close enough to touch." Solas said as a look of excitement and wonder came over him.

"No! No, this cannot be." Cassandra denied. "Mortals are not meant to be here."

"I realize this is probably a dream come true for you, Solas. Literally. But, perhaps you've got any insight that could help us, get the fuck out of here, Mr. Fade Expert?" Rajmael urged.

"What spirit could possibly commande this realm?" Solas remarked absently. "I've never heard of such a place, nor have I ever encountered a spirit that would know of it."

"This isn't how I remembere the Fade, either." Hawke informed. "Perhaps it's because we're here physically, and not in a dream."

"Cole, how does it feel to be home?" Solas asked sincerely.

"No, no, no! I, I cannot be here like this. I'm me, but I'm not like I was, made myself forget. I can't be here!" Cole said in distressed panic, like he just woke from a horrid nightmare. "It's all wrong, wrong, wrong. I made myself forget so I could be real so that I could help. I'm here but I'm not me. Can't release, can't release..."

"Be calm, Cole." Solas said as he tried relax the physical spirit of compassion. "We will find a way to make this right. Just stay calm, or you're no help to anyone."

"Hey, Hawke. Remember the last time we went to the Fade?" Varric asked humorously.

"Yes. You and Isabella turned on me." Hawke answered. "But I highly doubt that this trip will end with a sincere apology from you and make-up sex from Isabella."

"I wish all our problems could end that way." Varric sighed.

"Hmm. I remember the first time I went into the Fade." Dorian reminisced. "I met a marvelously sexy desire demon in a castle filled with golds and silks. We ate candied grapes and had the most excellent wine. Before he tried to possess me."

"No one wants to know what you do during your personal time, Sparkler." Varric responded humorously.

"They say you stepped out of a Rift back at the Temple of Sacred Ashes." Hawke reminded. "Was it anything like this?"

"If I knew the answer to that question, I'd probably where this damn mark came from." Rajmael answered agitatedly. "It's as if...something just plucked the memories out of my head and left nothing behind. Like Iron Bull at a buffet."

"Well, whatever happened, I think it's safe to assume we're not safe now." Hawke continued. "That huge demon Erimond summoned was right on the other side of that Rift he conjured. And where there's one demon, there are always more."

"Back in Adamant Fortress, the Rift was nearby. In the main hall. Is it possible to escape that way?" Stroud asked.

Rajmael looked ahead and saw the path to take. At the end of it, over all that desolation and shadow, he could see the Rift shinning into the real world. "Well, I'd rather take my chances looking for the exit than waiting around for whatever locals who inhabit this place find us."

"Agreed." Cassandra spoke. "We do not want to tarry here any longer than is necessary. Let us find the exit and leave this place behind."

"Any idea what we might face on our little excursion, Solas?" Rajmael asked.

"It's not the area I would have chosen, obviously. But if I was to hazard a guess, I'd say a fear demon rules this realm." Solas answered. "Fear is a very powerful, very old feeling. It predates anger, sorrow, pride and many other negative aspects. Save, perhaps, for hunger and desire."

Cole pointed to the minor spirits that hovered around and sped away randomly. "They remember the screams, the sounds of doom as death came upon the fearful and dying. They remember what this creature has brought, and what he still brings. They scream the terror of the legions of doomed souls."

"It would seem ole agrees." Solas continued, while everyone else was disturbed by Cole's words. "We must be wary of traps and manipulations, and prepare for what will certainly be a fascinating experience."

"Fascinating?!" Cassandra threw back. "The last time mortals entered this place physically, it brought the Blights, and endless ruin to the world! Maker knows what kind of damage we might cause being here!"

"Yes, yes, yes, Cassandra. We all no that bedtime story." Dorian waved off. "Magister entered the Black City and were responsible for creating the Blight and all things bad and unpleasant."

"So instead of arguing over trivialities, why don't we focus on getting out of here and not running into more trouble?" Rajmael pointed out. "Like from those guys over there?"

A large group of shadowy Wraiths approached them. And unlike the ones they encountered in the real world, this creatures weren't twisted and made rabid because they were forcibly ripped from the Fade, this was their actual nature. Creatures of fear and darkness that fed off the negativity and death of mortals. Their twisted shadowy forms with piercing, evil eyes, and they looked hungry.

Rajmael and his companions all drew their weapons to attack, while the Inquisitor smiled widely. "Seeing as how we're all new to this place, what do you guys say we go greet the locals here!?"

The Inquisitor threw down a bolt of lightning from his sword and scattered the group of demons. Odd. His magic seemed...stronger here. Was it because his power came from the Fade and now he actually stood here physically instead of dreaming?

Solas and Dorian's magic seemed amplified as well. Dorian's fire spells burned hotter, an he was able to bind the wraiths with his necromancy with minimal effort. And instead of summoning stones and fire from the Fade, like he usually would, Solas was able to manipulate the rocks floating above them with as much as ease as he would in the physical world.

Cassandra's Seeker powers were still highly effective against demons. Being in a place powered by magic, against creatures created from magic, her abilities to disrupt mana, and purge lyrium were still effective. Hawke and Varric stood strong against the demons. The two of them had ample experience fighting against creatures from the Fade during their adventures in Kirkwall. Even Stroud held his own incredibly well; evidently his Chevalier training and lifetime as a Warden prepared him to fight against any manner of foe.

Unfortunately, as well as they all fought against the demons here, the demons themselves fought just as hard, and were even more powerful than the ones they fought in the real world. This was their domain, where their power was strongest, and commanded the most influence. Mere mortals would never be able to stand their ground and face down the true natives of this alien word. But fortunately for the visitors of this realm, they were anything but mere mortals. They would not die here. They would slay any and every demon that got in there way, and stop Corypheus from gaining his demon army. But first, they had to cross this sea of demons and make it to that Rift at the end. And hopefully, not run into that giant demon they saw on the other side of that Rift.

They defeated the group of wraiths, but this would no doubt be the first wave of many. This was their real after all, and they were the intruders. There was a path to walk, perhaps this was the path the demons were taking as they made their way to invade the waking world, and perhaps it was their way out of here. As they carefully ventured further into this vile realm of the Fade, the minor spirits that littered the place scrambled around them as thought they weren't even there, screaming, weeping and crying for salvation they would never receive.

"Although all around me is darkness, the Maker guides my steps and leads me to paradise..."

"Maker! Save me!"

"Mommy! Mommy! The monsters took mommy away!"

"Sweet Stone! Holy Ancestors! Help!"

"No! NOOO! Don't let the darkspawn take me!"

"What...what's wrong with these spirits?" Cassandra asked, disturbed by who horrid and real their screaming terror was.

"Spirits reflect the memories and actions of the real world." Solas answered calmly. "This realm is most definitely ruled by some manner of Fear Demon, and these spirits seem to reflect the fears and terror of past Blights. Something all mortals fear."

"It is for these very fears, and the horrors that the Blights inflict that we Grey Wardens fight, and why we are so willing to sacrifice anything to prevent such things from happening." Stroud stated as he looked on the crying spirits.

"So willing to sacrifice anything, that you'll even inflict such horrors on others to accomplish your damned mission." Hawke said with hostility.

They came upon a stony plateau burning with sickly green torches, and found something so out of place that it gave all of them pause in shock. An elderly woman with gentle eyes and a kind face, dressed in the vibrant robes and holy miter of a highly ranked Chantry Mother. What was someone like this doing here? Who was she?

Stroud was stunned almost speechless. "Could...could it be...?"

"I greet you, Warden. And you, Champion of Kirkwall." The kindly woman welcomed warmly. Hawke seemed less than pleased.

"Who the fuck is this fruity looking old biddy?!" Rajmael asked with confusion. What was like her doing in a hell-hole like this?

"Divine Justinia? Most Holy?" Cassandra gasped in shock and disbelief. Suddenly, Rajmael felt a bit like an asshole. But not that much.

"Cassandra, welcome." The Divine greeted her Left Hand graciously.

"Cassandra, you knew the Divine. Could this be her?" Rajmael asked cautiously.

"I...do not know." The Seeker asked with doubt in her voice. "It is said the souls of the dead pass through the Fade and sometimes linger. But...we know that spirits lie. Be careful, Rajmael."

"This cannot be the Divine. In a place like this, she is certainly dead." Stroud affirmed. "I fear this is a spirit...or a demon."

"You think my survival impossible, yet here you stand alive in the Fade yourselves." The supposed Divine reasoned gently. "In truth, proving my existence either way would require time you do not have."

"Real or not, you're probably as useless as Divine Justinia was in life, and no different in death." Hawke seethed.

"I know you are angry, Champion. You hold me responsible me for the tragedies you suffered in Kirkwall." Divine Justinia confirmed.

"You are responsible!" Hawke spat with hate in his voice. "You appointed Meredith to rule Kirkwall, and did nothing while she brutalized the people. Nothing accept blame the mages, and prepared an Exalted March on the city! Everything that happened to my family, to this fucking world is your fault, you stupid hag!"

"Champion!" Cassandra scolded angrily.

"Maker's breath, Hawke. Take it easy." Varric tried to calm his friend down. "Yelling at a dead woman never does anyone any good. Especialy when we have bigger things to worry about."

"I know I failed you, and I failed Kirkwall, like I did so many others. And I could never make up for not doing more when you needed it." Divine Justinia lamented. "But I can start by aiding now, and help you find a way home." She turned her attention to Rajmael. "You do not remember what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, Inquisitor. When you received that mark."

"Now I know you're not the Divine. There's no way you could have known I was made Inquisitor." Rajmael denounced. "You're about as much the Divine as Solas here is Fen'harel's left nut sack."

Solas coughed uncomfortably.

"I know because I have examined memories like yours, stolen by the demon that now serves Corypheus." The supposed Divine explained. "It is the nightmare you forget when you wake up. It feeds off the memories of fear and darkness, growing fat on the terror."

"The Blights. This demon feeds off the terror of the Blights." Solas realized.

"Yes. Every dwarf's cries in the Deep Roads, every child's screams when the darkspawn invade. Every life snuffed out by the Archdemons. That is what this creature thrives on. And has fed well." The Most Holy continued. "The false Calling that terrified the Wardens into committing such terrible acts? That was its work."

"I would gladly avenge the insult this Nightmare has inflicted on my brethren." Stroud swore.

"And you will have your chance, brave Warden. This place of darkness is it lair." Justinia revealed.

"Wait just a second! You mean the big demon we saw is what Erimond was trying to summon?" Varric asked worriedly.

"Yes."

"And that thing is nearby?"

"Yes."

"Well, shit." Was all Varric could say.

"So to that end, maybe you could give us some helpful advice? Like how do we kill this damned thing!?" Rajmael insisted.

"When you first escaped the demon, it took a part of you. You must get it back before facing it. Only then will you have the strength to combat this monstrosity." The Divine pointed down the path where a cadre of demons approached. "This demons hold your memories, they will try to stop you from regaining them. You must take them back."

Rajmael turned towards the demons, his sword drawn and blazing with veilfire. Demons of Rage, Terror and Despair littered the plateau, but it did not matter. Rajmael had lost enough to Corypheus and this damned demon that serves him. It was time he took something back from them.

Back Adamant Fortress...

The Wardens had been scattered. Warden Clarel was dead, and Warden Stroud had disappeared along with the Inquisitor after that dragon attack. With anyone of commanding rank present, many of the Wardens were scattered. They were all fighting to survive, but it was more akin to a barroom brawl than disciplined tatics, and against demons, they may as well have been rats poking at dragons. Blackwall tried to rally as many as he could to mount a defense against the demons and keep them from pouring out of the Rift, but too many were still too divided and broken with shock over Clarel's betrayal. In this way, Rajmael's actions caused just as much damage.

Iron Bull savagely swung his axe and cut down scores of demons, but for everyone he mauled another two took its place. Sera was scared silly, shooting her arrows at everything that looked funny, but was not concentrating her shots to pin the demons down and give cover fire. Vivienne was trying too hard to eradicate as many demons as possible and was expending too much of her own mana. There was no commander, no one to coordinate their attacks. While they fought greatly, their efforts meant nothing if the could not turn the battle in their favor with a unified assault, but none of them commanded the authority or power of presence to make that happen.

"Where's the Inquisitor!?" Blackwall yelled over the sounds of battle.

Iron Bull finished cleaving a Rage Demon in two. "I don't know! Last I saw, he was chasing that Vint asshole, and that dragon was after him."

"These fuck-ugly demon things are everywhere!" Sera screeched.

"We cannot hold this place for much longer." Vivienne announced as she froze over several more demons and shattered them to pieces. "We must sound a retreat."

"No! If we fall back now, then the Wardens here are finished." Blackwall denied.

"My dear Blackwall, as touching as it is that you want to fight and die with your misguided brethren, I do not wish to meet my end here for their foolishness." Vivienne stated coldly.

"If we fall back now, the demons will pour out of that Rift and overrun this Keep!" Blackwall barked. "We have to hold them here for as long as we can until Nathaniel, Cullen and the others make it here."

"Nothing like fighting with our backs to a wall. Best way to fight, actually." Iron Bull commented.

"How long do you think that will be?" Sera asked worriedly.

"As long as it takes." Blackwall answered grimly. "All we can do is hope someone out there lends them a hand."

Their path set, all of them charged back into the fray. They had to slow down the flood of demons coming into this realm until back up arrived. All they can do now is fight their hearts outs, and hope someone out there lends them a hand.

~XoXoXo~

Nathaniel, Oghren, Sigrun, Leliana and Cullen all stood ready with their weapons before the gate entry that lead to the main hall of Adamant Fortress. Wardens were still scrambling, while the Inquisition's soldiers fought the stray demons around them, but they had to hold here. This was the only path to the Rift where the rest of their companions were fighting. But the massive gate was locked, preventing them from getting to their comrades. But more importantly, there was something pounding on the other side of that gate trying to get to them. Whatever it was, it sounded big, powerful, and hungry.

What sounded like a thousand demons screaming rang loud and clear on the other side, as it pounded on the gate. The pounding grew louder, faster, more determined by the second, like it couldn't wait to break through to the other side. Nathaniel and the others stood ready. They had all faced terrible horrors before and triumphed. They would not back down now, there was too much at stake.

Nathaniel felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight, and a familiar feeling of anxiety and excitement twisted in his gut. He hadn't felt this sensation in years, not since he and Aedan Cousland saved Amaranthine. Why did feel this way now?

The enormous gates erupted into a million splinters, accompanied by the savage screams of demons. Several, massive Pride Demons lumbered forward. Lightning discharged from their bodies, and their claws tore the stone floor as they dragged them behind. And then all three of them...fell down dead.

All of them hesitantly lowed their guards. What just happened? There was something moving in the smoke, surrounded by so many slain demons, fighting off so many more, and winning. Then they realized that those demons were not ramming against the gate to get on the other side, but because they were trying to escape what was in there with them.

The sight was so epic that everyone, even the Grey Wardens and Inquisition soldiers, were awestruck. A single warrior, wielding a gruesome axe, and his face was inked in the style of Alamarii war paint.

"I-is...is that...can't be..." Cullen was too dumbstruck to complete a sentence.

"O Holy Maker, forgive me for ever doubting you." Leliana praised.

"I think I'm going to vomit with joy." Sigrun gushed.

"Aha-ha-ha-ha! You nug-humpers are in for it now!" Oghren bellowed thunderously. "Prepare for a world of pain."

"Aedan Cousland! The Hero of Ferelden!" Nathaniel cried with shock and relief.

The legendary Reaver swung his axe in wide arc that crackled with lightning and crashed with thunder as he struck down five Shades in one stroke. His eyes burned with a read aura of pure rage. It was that same look he had when he slaughtered Arl Howe, when he slew the Archdemon, and when he brought war to the Architect and the Mother. And it was this savage rage that would be their salvation.

Aedan looked at his companions with that familiar look in his eyes. It was a look they had almost forgotten. "What the fuck are you idiots looking at!? KILL SOMETHING!"

With a fire burning in their guts, they charged the demons alongside Aedan with a renewed resolve; with him here, there was nothing that could stop them.

Cullen fought the demons with masterful precision and experience. From the events at Kinloch Hold, and the uprising in the Gallows, he had gotten used to being surrounded by demons, and killing them. He purged the lyrium from the area around him, badly weakening the demon, then finished them off with his blessed sword. This time, he knew what and who he was fighting for. He would not back down, or be taken again.

"Leliana! Here!" Aedan called as he held the haft of his axe out towards her. The red-haired bard jumped on the axe's handle, and like a spring, Aedan launched her high into the air. Airborne, and with a bird's eye view of the field, Leliana masterfully launched a dozen blessed arrows from above with rapid fire succession.

"Hey, Commander. It's time for some dwarf tossing!" Sigrun yelled as she jumped at Aedan. Her former Commander grabbed the dwarven scout, like she and her armor weighed nothing, and effortlessly threw into the air, and right on to a Pride Demon's face. Sigrun stabbed and hacked the giant creature's eyes and head with her dirk and hand-axe, then jumped off of it when it fell like a tree right on top of the demons beneath it.

Another Pride Demon charged them, Oghren sensed an opportunity. "Hey! Aedan! Remember when we killed that armored ogre back in Amaranthine?!"

The two warriors exchanged a demented smile, and charged the enormous Pride Demon on either side of it. Aedan's axe and Oghren's hammer hacked and smashed the demon's legs out from under it, and when it fell face first to the floor, the both brought their weapons down on its hideous face, turning it into a crushed and splattered pile of mush.

Nathaniel fired shot after shot, keeping the demons off Aedan's flank as he finished wiping out the demons. "Where have you been?" Aedan said nothing, but kept killing.

The Wardens and the Inquisition soldiers stopped scrambling, they saw the scene unraveling before them, and could not believe there eyes. It was truly him. The greatest Warden of their generation.

"It's him! Aedan Cousland!"

"The Hero of Ferelden!"

"I thought he was dead."

Aedan raised his axe above his head, signaling to all the Wardens around. "Wardens! To the Rift! TO THE RIFT!" Their path clear, their sprits restored, and their purpose rallied, the Wardens followed The Hero of Ferelden and his companions as he charged fearlessly to the main hall. They would make their stand there.

~XoXoXo~

The demons here were starting to wear the down on Blackwall and the others. Wardens and Inquisition soldiers began to falling before the endless waves of demons emerging from the Rift, and Blackwall feared he and his comrades would soon join them. They had to hold, they had to stand here and let nothing through. Maker, please, lend your aid now.

The entryway doors were smashed open, and droves of fresh Wardens and Inquisition soldiers rushed in and engaged the demons that were assaulting their brothers in arms. They were being led by the most savage warrior Blackwall had ever seen. He was wielding a brutal battle axe, with blue war paint on his face. And surrounding him was a grim, blood-red aura. He and the dwarf Warden, Oghren, charged headlong into the demon's ranks and decimated them without fear or regard for their own safety. Even as the demons clawed at him, and inflicted wounds that would cripple most men, he kept fighting. In fact, the more damage he received, the stronger he became, and the more he killed, the faster his wounds healed.

"Who in Andraste's flaming knickers is that!?" Blackwall asked in stunned amazement.

"It's Aedan fucking Cousland!" Sigrun laughed as she cut down another demon.

"The Hero of Ferelden?" Blackwall took a moment to silently thank the Maker. Maybe they weren't as forsaken as he thought they were.

Aedan and his companions pushed the demons back so their forces could entrench themselves here, and hold off the demonic tide. Leliana and Nathaniel gave the warriors cover fire so that the demons would not overrun them, and shot down any that managed to get past them. Sigrun ran like greased lightning past the demons, cutting them down from below and dealing horrible damage to them while keeping the demons off of Aedan's flank. Aedan threw his axe straight into a Pride Demon's face just as it emerged from the Rift. Now Oghren knew things were going to get fun.

"RAAAHHHH!" Unarmed and twice as dangerous, the savage Ferelden charged down the demons with nothing but his bare hands. He was engulfed in that infernal aura that was more fearsome than any of the demons. His hands became like the claws of dragons as he ripped into the demons, tore their bodies and shredded them to pieces. "COME HERE!" He roared as he grabbed a skeletal terror demon by its claw and swung it around, striking at its fellow demons with it like it was a morning star. Then he held the screaming Terror demon over his head with both hands, and pulled the thing in half. With the demons were now being pushed back, Aedan was able to recover his axe with ease. The momentum was now on their side. And Aedan saw something that brought a wide smile to his face.

Erimond barely managed to make it to safety when that bitch Clarel collapsed the rampart on him. The stupid woman failed to kill him, and instead sent that infernal rattus elf plummeting to his death. He had to get out of here now. He had to get to his master. He had to tell the Elder One of his success. And when he presents this news to the Elder One, his gratitude will be so profound that he will make him the most powerful god-king in all of Thedas when he brings his new kingdom to this world.

Erimond propped himself up against a wall with his only arm holding him up. He could get away in all this chaos if he was careful. Then something blocked his path. Some dog-lord barbarian with blue tattoos on his face, and grin that was getting wider.

"Going somewhere, you pussy!?" the barbarian dared question.

"Out of my way, you filthy dog-lord! I will destroy you!" Erimond raised his hand at the Fereldan to conjure a spell to wipe that grin off his face. The barbarian's axe swept across him like a flash of lightning, and cut Erimond's arm right off before he could finish his spell, the lightning enchanted blade instantly cauterized the wound. The now armless magister fell to his knees screaming at the top of his lungs as he stared in horror at both his new stumps.

As much Aedan liked hearing Tevinter mages scream, he had no time to enjoy it. So instead, he grabbed the prick by his hair and slammed his face into a wall. With the Magister incapacitated, and the momentum of battle on their side, it was now time to claim this battlefield as their own. Aedan raised his axe above his head, rallying all to his command.

"SHIELD WALL! FORM!" Like a well oiled machine with the discipline of a hardened army, Wardens and Inquisition alike locked their shields in unison into an indomitable wall of iron and focus. Just like at Redcliffe and Amaranthine, Nathaniel and Leliana led the archers, but this time they were not leading untrained, desperate peasants and farmers. This time they were leading battle-hardened soldiers with a grudge. Iron Bull, Blackwall, Cullen, Oghren and Sigrun joined the ranks for what was sure to be an epic battle.

"SOLDIERS! ADVANCE!" Every soldier, Warden and mercenary marched forward, ready to kill any and every demon that came out of that damned Rift.

Leliana remembered what Aedan's voice was like, and she would die knowing it. Aedan's war cries carried louder than the roar of any High Dragon. And like a High Dragon, he was an awesome and terrible thing to behold, but something you want on your side. And like a High Dragon, he would rain down hellfire and ruin on their enemies.

Back in the depths of The Fade...

The demons guarding Rajmael's memories had been slain. His memories, the very things that could finally reveal the truth about what happened in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, floated around like green orbs. The Inquisitor raised his marked hand to his memories and too them back into himself. Being a place of memories, Rajmael's forgotten past was laid bare for all of them to see.

The Divine had been captured, right in the very heart of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and was being suspended in the air by some strange but familiar red magic. And surrounding the Divine, trapping her in that magic, were several Warden mages. Some of them even seemed glad at what they were doing.

"Now is the hour of our victory." Corypheus declared as he approached the Most Holy, the elven orb gripped tightly in his clawed hand.

"Why are you doing this? You of all people?" The Divine asked desperately.

"Keep the sacrifice still." The Elder One held the orb out to Justinia and a beam of green magic engulfed her. Corypheus smiled in twisted glee as he watched the orb drain the life from the Divine.

"Someone help me!"

"What's going on here!?" Rajmael had called as he entered the chamber. He was surprised to see the Divine, judging from that silly hat she was wearing, floating in mid-air, even more so to see it was because of mages in blue and silver raiment adorned with griffon motifs. Grey Wardens? Here? His surprise turned to horror as he saw a giant that was thick with rot, skin that was wet with disease and the rest of his body looked like burned charcoal. Sweet Mythal. His very presence was made Rajmael sick to his stomach. The creature was holding on to strange green orb, Rajmael could feel great power radiating from it.

"Run while you can!" The withered priestess called out to the Dalish. "Warn them!"

"Slay the elf!" The fell being commanded and the wardens seemed eager to obey. The Divine took advantage of the creature's distraction and knocked the orb from it's disproportionately long fingers. It rolled on the ground and Rajmael instinctively went to grab it. When he took it with his left hand raw power from the fade swirled around him, around all of them.

"NO!" the diseased creature half bellowed in rage as the whole world erupted into a bright green flash. Just like the rifts.

The flashback had ended. And now, everyone knew the truth about what happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. What truly destroyed the Conclave.

"So your mark didn't come from Andraste. It came from the orb Corypheus used in his ritual." Stroud acknowledged.

"Corypheus intended to rip the veil open, use the Anchor to enter the Fade, and gain entry into the Black City." The Divine explained. "Not for the Old Gods, however, but for himself. When you interrupted his ritual, the magic backfired and destroyed the temple, and the Orb passed the Anchor to you."

Rajmael was unmoved by this revelation. "I never believed that the Maker or Andraste put this thing on my hand. I am what I have made myself to be."

"And now you may be certain. But do you truly believe that no higher power aided you?" Justinia inquired curiously. "That you lived while so many perished, that the Anchor passed to you was all an accident?"

"Any credit of my survival and success goes to my gods, not the Maker!" Rajmael rebuked sternly. "The Anchor Corypheus seeks is elven magic, and to elven hands it returned to. And it is to the elven gods I give my praise, the Maker has nothing to do with me."

"Then hold your faith close to your heart. You will need it if you are to leave this place." Divine Justinia said softly. "You cannot escape the Lair of the Nightmare until you regain what it stole from you." The whole realm rumbled and creaked, like a thunderous growl shook the whole world. "It knows you are here. You must make haste. I will prepare the way ahead." The whole realm shook once more, and when they looked, the Divine had disappeared.

Everyone readied to move out, and Stroud noticed a bitter look on The Champion's face. "Is something troubling Hawke?"

"Your damned right something is troubling me, Stroud." Hawke seethed. "Those were Grey Wardens, they were serving Corypheus. They helped him open the Breach!"

"I assumed their minds, as he had before. You have seen him do such things before, Hawke!" Stroud defended. "Come, we can argue about this later."

"Oh, I intend to do more than argue." The Champion promised.

"Could that have really been the Divine, Cassandra?" Varric asked.

"I...do not know, Varric." Cassandra answered. "She seemed eager to help us just as The Most Holy would. The way spoke it...I cannot be certain. Nothing in the Fade is what it seems."

"Even if she were just a spirit in disguise, I don't think it was a demon. No demon would be so helpful without demanding something in return." Dorian informed. "And from what she said about this Nightmare, I certainly won't turn down a helping hand."

"It sounds like a fear demon, as I mentioned before." Solas reminded. "It feeds off the most fearful of memories, and steals them to make itself stronger."

"It feeds not because it's hungry, but because it delights in the taste of fear and suffering.. It takes pleasure in stealing their pain so it can laugh at them, and then create more fear, more pain." Cole spoke like a frightened boy that just woke up from a bad dream.

"Stealing memories from people? That's low, even for a demon." Varric condemned. "Memories are a art of what makes us who we are, and then to just steal that for a midnight snack? This thing is evil."

"Awww. I'm not all that bad, once you get to know me. Heh-heh-heh." That voice seemed to come from all around them. It echoed off the walls, vibrated through the air and descended from the very sky. It was like a voice they all remembered from a forgotten nightmare that sent a wave of dread through their very souls. "So the wandering little elf has come to steal back the fear I so generously lifted from his shoulders. You should have left your fears where it lay. Forgotten. Do you think the pain will make you stronger? What idiot filled your head with such drivel? Haven't you suffered enough pain, Rajmael? You've suffered so much already, do you truly want more pain to plague you?"

Rajmael heard the demons words as though it were speaking right into his pointed ears.

"You must not listen, Inquisitor." Solas spoke. "Fear demons feed off of doubt, and will seek to weaken your resolve. Make you give into fear."

"All demons seek to lead mortal astray. You must not give into its words." Cassandra added.

"Ah. But you, and all those with you, are a guests here in my home." The Nightmare laughed. "Let me return what you have forgotten."

The very walls began to writhe and crawl with life. The most vile spiders Rajmael had ever seen. Unlike the giant spiders of the real world, these things were black as tar, covered in slime, with dripping fangs, but most frightening of all, their many giant eyes were gleamed like cat eyes, and filled with hunger. The hissed and chittered at their would be meals, the fangs drooling with hunger. No one really knew this, but Rajmael actually hated spiders.

Everyone fought the heinous little creatures, all of them bearing looks of repulsed looks of disgust. A pillar of fire billowed from Dorian's staff as he burned the creatures away, while Cassandra hacked away at them with revilement painted on her face. Hawke swung the Celebrant, and even stomped on them with his mailed boots as Varric shot them as quickly as he could. Everyone breathed a little easier when they killed these newest monstrosities.

"What in Andraste's name where those things!?" Hawke asked looking like he was going to puke.

"Those were minor fears, mimicking spiders, something many people fear." Rajmael answered.

"Spiders? All I saw were maggots crawling in filth!" Cassandra admitted with disgust.

"These creatures take the form of whatever frightens or disgusts us." Solas informed. "These are merely servants to the true ruler of this realm. We must be careful."

"Wait, you're scared of spiders, Inquisitor?" Varric asked disbelievingly.

"I had a bad experience with a Vartarrel when I was an apprentice to Keeper Deshanna, okay!?" Rajmael admitted with embarrassment. "What did you see?"

Varric shuddered. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

"They scurry to the scraps the Nightmare leaves behind, searching, starving, wanting more." Cole said balefully. "They want to be like it, but are too scared. So they do its bidding. The other spirits cannot see or be anything else, they show what s strongest here."

"We must press on." Stroud insisted. "We must continue forward and find the Divine if we are to make it out of this horrid place."

The further they ventured into this realm, the more freakish and alien spirits' wailing became more specific, screaming in the modern tongue and in languages long dead and forgotten to history. How old was this creature that the spirits of this realm screamed in tongues of ancient Elvhen, Dwarvish and tongues that Rajmael didn't even recognize? And the further they went, the more the Nightmare mocked them.

"Perhaps I'm the one who should be afraid. Facing the most powerful members of the Inquisition." The Nightmare laughed. "Like you Dorian...it is Dorian isn't it? For a moment I mistook you for your father: a hypocrite and a liar, who cares only for his own selfish wants."

"Oh, come on, that's just uncalled for." Dorian brushed off sarcastically. "That really stings."

"Aw. Cole, the lost little Spirit of Compassion. I can help you, you know. Just like how you help other people. We have so much in common. We both steal the bad memories and pain from mortals, like thieves in the night."

"No. You are wrong." Was all Cole would say.

"Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar Solas ena mar din."

"Banal nadas." Solas denied.

Wait. What did Solas and the Nightmare just say? Rajmael was distracted by one of the fearlings that attacked. He recognized a few of the words, but didn't hear the rest. What did they say?

"Since the day you first met, all you've ever done is bring Hawke nothing but pain, Varric. You found the red lyrium. You brought him to Corypheus' prison and unleashed destruction on the world. Is there anything you don't ruin? Your brother, your friends. Bianca?"

"Just keep talkin' Smiley. It's gonna make shooting you in the face feel even better." Varric promised. The Nightmare just laughed at him.

"Your Inquisitor is a fraud, Seeker Cassandra, and you know it. An elven pagan, and a mage that despises your beloved Chantry, and even a monster like me can't blame him. In your heart, you know you do not truly care for him. You warm his bed at night and pretend to love this false Herald of Andraste to try and ignore the fact that you know that your Maker is a lie, and all your faith has been for naught."

"Die in the Void, demon!" Cassandra cursed angrily. "I'll send you there myself."

"Warden Jean-Marc Stroud, last of a pitiful family that couldn't survive The Game. How does it feel to forget your whole family and devout your whole life to the Wardens? Worse yet, how does it feel to know that you, not Clarel are responsible for their destruction, because you failed? When the next Blight occurs, and it shall, will the world curse your name?"

"With the Maker's blessing we will end this nightmare!" Stroud declared.

"Ahh. Garret Hawke. Scion of House Amell. Basalit-An, and Champion of Kirkwall. Do you think anything you've ever done matters? The only thing that defines your life is your repeated failures. You failed to defeat the Blight at Ostagar. You failed to save Carver from that Ogre, and Bethany from the Templars. You let Quentin butcher your mother and mutilate her body because you were too busy playing hero in a dying city. You couldn't save your family or your city. How do expect to defeat a god? Merill and Isabella are going to die, or maybe I'll make them my new playthings."

Hawke gritted his teeth, and his fists shook as they angrily held the Celebrant in his grip. "Now you've made it personal. No one threatens Merril and Isabella, and no one talks about my mother and lives."

"Rajmael Yonwyn Lavellan. There is nothing more accursed than a traitor and a kinslayer. What will you tell little Eva when she asks for the truth? Will you tell her you murdered her father, your adopted brother, to protect and serve the humans and their Chantry, even after everything they did to you and your people. You let Cassandra, a woman who would spit on your gods and your culture if it meant serving the Maker, take Evanura's place in your heart. Do you even remember what Evanura looks like? Nethras and Evanura curse you in the afterlife, and will reject you when you die. You have forgotten what it means to be Dalish, to be an elf. You are a...seth'lin elvhen'alas."

Several enraged veins pulsed on Rajmael's forehead and his golden eyes burned with rage, but his face remained as stone. "Alright, I call dibs on this thing. And I'm going to kick its ass out of its mouth. You hear that, asshole!? I'm gonna kick your ass so far up your throat you'll be shitting out of your mouth! Emma banal harel ar! Ma emma harel!"

They made their way to another stone plateau filled with rivers of the vile excrement of the Fade, and columns of lyrium. And once again, Divine Justinia stood there waiting for them with that warm smile of hers.

Rajmael was less than enthusiastic to see the Divine again. "Okay, I'm just going to ignore the fact that you, an elderly woman who probably couldn't fight your way out of a sewing circle, somehow made it pass all that god-forsaken piece of hell we just had to fight through, and made it here ahead of. Provided, of course, that you have a piece of helpful information. Like the fuck what the fuck are supposed to do now?!"

Divine Justinia pointed toward some kind of monument in the middle of the plateau. "You must go forward and face what awaits you there. Your final memory awaits you on the other side of this graveyard. But be warned, if you cannot face what is here, you will not be able to leave this place."

"You want to give me some specifics? Like what will we have to face in this particular part of the Fade?" Rajmael asked satirically.

"Only what you carry with you." The Divine answered ominously.

"Okay, that wasn't cryptic. I'm just gonna go over here and kill what ever is holding my memory. Okay?"

They cautiously walked over to the group of monuments in the middle of this place. They discovered the stone markers here weren't merely decorations. These gravestones each bore the name of all Rajmael's companions, and their greatest fears. Was this what the Nightmare plagued on? What it intended to use against them? Rajmael studied the gravestones with the names of the companions that weren't with him at the moment.

Sera's fear was nothingness. Strange, considering that her head was full of nothingness.

Blackwalls was...himself? Why would he be his own greatest fear? Was it some kind of great sin he committed, or afraid of what he might do?

Iron Bull feared madness. Understandable. The whole point of the Qun was meant to suppress the Qunari's naturally savage compulsions, and Iron Bull spent most of his life reinforcing the Qun's laws, and protecting his people from the savage Tal-Vashoth. Now that he was Tal-Vashoth, he feared he would become as savage as they are.

Vivienne's greatest fear was irrelevance. That was not unexpected. Vivienne spent her life gaining power and using both the Circle and The Great Game as he stepping stone to power. Now that the world was changing around her, she feared she would no longer maintain her place in it. A selfish fear, and one that Rajmael knew was her sole reason for joining the Inquisition.

Cassandra feared helplessness, something only someone as strong as her would fear. Something she never wanted to be ever since she helplessly watched her brother Antony die at the hands of malificar, a fear that became real when she witnessed the Conclave explode, and everything she swore to defend die.

Solas was afraid of dying alone. Strange. Beyond strange, in fact. Rajmael knew that for all the hahren's polite nature and wisdom, he was, in fact, a loner. he had spent most of his life alone, wandering the world for ancient ruins and memories. Solas preferred his own company to anyone else's, except for spirits, and he disassociated himself from all elves, Dalish and city-born alike. Why would a hermit like Solas be so scared of dying alone?

Varric's fear was becoming his parents of all things. Varric has defined himself by being exactly what dwarves are not. He didn't want to be the backstabbing nobleman who fixed Provings, and knelt to the ancestors for every little thing. A deshyr who cared more for a person's social standing and Caste than who they truly were as people. He wanted to only ever be Varric, a story-teller who frequented taverns to get drunk with friends.

Dorian feared falling into temptation. Not the kind of temptation that demons offer to mages, but the kind of temptation power offers to otherwise good men. This kind of temptation is the true cause behind all ruin. Being tempted by greed, by power, and use any excuse, no matter how justified to give in to these desires. These were the temptations that ruled Tevinter, what has led Tevinter into such a severe decline. And it was the temptation that turned Alexius from being an otherwise decent man, and into a servant of a heinous evil.

Even a spirit could feel fear. Perhaps spirits feel fear most of all. And in Cole's case, he feared despair most of all. Despair was one of the most potent poisons of all, and Rajmael had suffered enough despair to know this as fact. It consumes a persons soul until it drowns out everything else, and only your pain remains. Despair was the absence of hope. And without hope, there can be no compassion. And compassion, is one of the rarest, most precious things in the whole world.

Rajmael approached his own gravestone. It wasn't grim or frightening like the others. It was a grand masterpiece crafted by a brilliant sculptor, and Rajmael hated it. It depicted him wielding a Templar's sword, wearing the traditional garments of the Chantry's faithful, and carrying the Chantry's banner. Beneath his feet, he was standing over the slain bodies of his fellow elves. At the base of the sculptor it read:

Inquisitor Rajmael, Herald of Andraste.

The Foremost Champion of The Chantry.

Savior of The Faith, Loyal Servant of the Maker.

Kinslayer, Traitor To The Elven People.

Every word etched into that stone cut Rajmael worse than any sword ever could, because it was everything he ever feared. It was the fear that lingered in the very depths of his heart, and it was this. His greatest fear ever since he joined the Inquisition was that he would end up abandoning his heritage and culture as an elf. That by serving the Inquisition, he would forsake his people and their beliefs. That he would abandon the Creators of the Elvhen for the humans absent Maker. It was this fear, not Corypheus and his Venatori that kept Rajmael awake at night.

"Turn and face me...Little Brother." That familiar voice was filled with hatred. Rajmael turned, and was faced once again by the image of Nethras, the brother he killed. Nethras' eyes and face were twisted with rage, and his Bora'nan was clenched tightly in his fist, his knuckles white with anger. "You betrayed me, Rajmael! You murdered me for the Chantry, and turned your back on our people! It makes me sick that you bare the name Lavellan. My father should have left you on that pyre to die! You've done more for these shems, than you ever have for our people! You are...harellan!"

Everything Nethras said was true, or may as well have been. It was everything Rajmael said to himself. "You...are not Nethras."

"You think so? You think that I have crossed over to the Beyond and have found my peace with Falon'din?" Nethras berated. "How can I be at peace when a traitorous bastard like you still walks the earth?! I should have been the one to lead our people to take back what the humans stole from us, while you're content to let them enslave us! I should be the one representing the Creators, while you devout yourself to the Chantry that destroyed our people! I should be the one alive right now raising Eva, instead of a traitor like you who sleeps with the same Chantry dogs who murdered Evanura! I gave you every chance to aid our people, and you killed me for it. You betrayed us!"

Whatever this thing was, it wore his brother's face well. It knew the anger in his heart, and the reasons why he reformed the Vir Banal'ras. But this creature did not know the truth of Nethras' soul, not like Rajmael did. In his heart, Rajmael knew the truth.

"No. You are wrong. I am guilty only of trying to represent my people in this era of change. I've led this Inquisition and honored the Creators by following the Dirth'ena enasalin. Nethras knew this! He chose his path, and he walked it well and with honor! You shame my brother's memory by invoking his image! Be gone!"

"Hrrr! You will not reach The Nightmare. You will never leave this place!" The imposter hissed through a serpentine tongue slithering out of his mouth. "I will flay your flesh and devour your organs!"

The false Nethras' face cracked with what looked like fire beneath his skin and horns sprouted from his head. His hand merged with his Bora'nan turning his arm into a twisted sickle, while his other hand turned into a gnarled claw. Before the creature could finish its grotesque transformation, and follow through with his threat, Rajmael drew the enasalin and cut the false Nethras' head from his twisting neck. The veilfire purified the vile creature's body, and he burned away like white ash, leaving Rajmael's lost memory behind.

With this demon slain and gone, Rajmael took back the memory that had been stolen from him. Once more the images of his past played out before all of them, and they witnessed the events that happened after the Conclave was destroyed. Both Rajmael and Divine Justinia found themselves within this very part of the Fade, but more astonishingly, they were here in the flesh, not as dreamers. The Holy and the Dalish elf were both running from the fearlings, trying to reach the Rift that had been opened and get through to safety on the other side. They climbed a steep cliff to reach their exit into the real world, followed closely by the spider-like demons.

"Keep running! We're almost there!" Rajmael yelled as he tried to hold off the demons from getting to the Divine.

"The demons!" Justinia cried as they took hold of her. Rajmael grabbed her hands, and vainly tried to keep hold of her. But even with his Shimmering Shield activated, and all his strength enhanced, he was unable to take her back from the demons' grip. Justinia looked at Rajmael with a look of forgiveness, and acceptance, and whispered, "Go." and she released her hands from the elf, letting the demons take her so they wouldn't take him. Rajmael had no choice but to emerge through the Fade alone.

"That was when you emerged from the Fade at Haven. When our soldiers found you." Cassandra remembered that day well, and now felt extremely guilty for how she treated Rajmael when she first met him.

"It was you." Rajmael said nostalgically. "Back at Haven, everyone thought it was Andraste who guided me out of the Fade, but it was actually the Divine standing behind me. And then you...she died."

"Yes." The Divine answered sadly.

"Then this creature is simply a spirit." Stroud said crestfallen.

"I think we all knew that was the actual truth." Hawke reminded.

"I am sorry if I disappoint you." The false Divine apologized.

"You're less of a disappointment than the real Divine was, at least." Hawke admitted.

The Divine looked at them all with a look of sadness and truth on her face. She lifted her arms, and her whole being burned with a gentle white light that engulfed her enveloped her in a flash of light, and emerged as a floating spirit of light. Her face was obscured by the light radiating from her, but she possessed all the grace deserving of such a gentle being, and she still bore the miter of The Most Holy upon her head. The light coming off her was like a softly burning torch glowing in the bitter dark.

Rajmael needed to understand more. "Are...you her memory? A spirit reflecting the Divine and the memory of who she was?"

"If that is the story you wish to tell, it is not a bad one." The spirit answered in a majestic voice.

"She's beautiful." Cole said in awe.

"What we do know is that the real Divine, and the whole Conclave, perished thanks to the Grey Wardens." Hawke reminded angrily.

Stroud was in no mood for Hawke bitterness. "I told you before Hawke, the Grey Wardens responsible for that crime were under the control of Corypheus. We can discuss this further once we return to Adamant."

"Assuming of course we can get back there, because your stupid Commander got us here in the first place. And if the Wardens haven't completely doomed the world with the demon army they summoned, because that was such a good idea." Hawke criticized.

"How dare you judge us?" Stroud demanded. "You tore Kirkwall apart and started the Mage Rebellion!"

"I didn't see the Grey Wardens getting off their ass to do anything good! After what the Wardens did to my father and the rest of my family, I have every right to judge you!" Hawke spat back. "You would let the world burn to the ground and do nothing while people suffer, but then you demand everything from the world you alienate yourselves from when it suits your goals. You Wardens with your antiquated, self-righteous sense of duty will stoop to any low if it means accomplishing your goal, and you give the people no say in how they want to be saved. If your Order is willing to destroy so many lives, and give in to temptation so easily, then maybe we'd be better off without you!"

"Perhaps Ser Hawke is right. This blind obsession with the darkspawn and inethical approach to Blights is far too dangerous to trust." Solas agreed.

"They hurt their own people, and we're willing to kill even more to for their own plans. Send them away. You must send them away." Cole spoke.

"Agreed." Cassandra added. "They've already caused enough damage, send them away before they do any more harm."

"You're so willing to rebuild the Seekers, despite the damage they've caused for a thousand years, but are willing to discard an Order that has repeatedly saved the world, Cassandra?" Dorian pointed out. "What if Corypheus calls another Blight, or if it happens again later? Is the Chantry going to save us from the next Archdemon?"

"There are some good Wardens out there, like Blackwall, Nathaniel, and the Hero of Ferelden." Varric reminded. "But a lot of the Grey Wardens I knew ended up going crazy, but that's probably just my own rotten luck."

Rajmael was actually more concerned about the fact that they were still in the Fade than the situation with the Wardens. "Girls, girls, please! We can fight over this later, but for now, maybe we should figure out how to get the fuck out of here?"

"Inquisitor!" The look of anger on both Stroud and Hawke's faces turned to alarm when they noticed the minor fear demons returning to kill them.

"The Nightmare has found us." The Spirit of Justinia cried.

Hawke d ceased their arguing and stood ready for battle. "Form up!" Hawke yelled.

"I'm with you!" Stroud declared.

Back At Adamant...

Blackwall couldn't believe this was actually. He had heard the stories, they all had, of Aedan Cousland's mastery of combat and his legendary rage, but most of them thought they were just exaggerations. But they were not. Those tales were far from bing exaggerated. Aedan Cousland singlehandedly delivered them from the cusp of defeat, he also renewed their hope, brought valor with him. And it was this valor he brought that made them fight back so well against the endless waves of demons. But even with the Hero here, they had no chance to seal the Rift without the Inquisitor here. But even then there was this made hope, hope against all hope. They could do it. They could win.

The shield wall formed by the Hero of Ferelden was all but invincible. The demon hacked and clawed at them, but got nothing except of face full of cold steel. They tried to use their elemental attacks on the phalanx, fire and ice, and even lightning, but Cullen's Templar training was too effective.

Blackwall and Cullen were both leading the phalanx in the Pincer Formation, the flanks angled the shield wall into an acute triangle shape, forcing the demons to funnel between two walls of steel and were hacked to pieces on all sides. Cullen's Templar sword, blessed and enchanted cut through the demons like paper, while Blackwall's mace, Thunderstrike, cracked like thunder every time it hit a demon and made whatever part he hit explode in a ball of lightning. The further they tried to get from the Rift, the more likely they were to die.

Nathaniel, Leliana, Sera and Vivienne rained death from above on all of the demons wedged between the Pincer Formation. Vivienne ice spells froze them solid, while Leliana used her blessed arrows to excise the demons, Nathaniel used his explosive arrows tipped with Dworkin Glavonak's lyrium sand explosives to devastating effect. And Sera threw her alchemical vials at the demons, making them explode like jars of lightning and wild fire on the enemies, and against demons, Sera had no plans off getting up close. The more clustered they were, the more likely they were to die.

Iron Bull, Oghren, Sigrun and Aedan were separated from the phalanx. Fighting so defensively was not their style. They would rather be charging headlong into death's embrace, and fight right smack in the middle of the demons. And that's exactly what they were doing. They waded out into the middle of this ocean od demons and death, and fucked their day up. Iron Bull was getting hit, but in only mad him stronger, for every one hit he took, he took out four more demons. Oghren fought with that reckless sense of abandon, screaming like a madman swinging his hammer. Nothing could penetrate his dwarven armor, and nothing could with stand his Berserker Battle Rage. Sigrun fought no different than Oghren, the dwarven woman was laughing her head off as she darted across the field, flanking and eviscerating any and every demon in her way. Her armor provided extra protection while her rogue training made her move like a bronto dipped in mercury. Anything within thirty feet of them was going to die.

Aedan fought closest to the Rift, nothing would get past him. He would switch between using his axe to cleave them into two and dismember them, and then he would use his bare hands to rip off their heads, smash their bodies and crush their souls. All this death he caused, all the pain he inflicted, made him stronger as he fed off the entropic energies of death and agony. His wounds healed the instant he was injured, and the more they injured him, the stronger he became. Soon, some of the demons even tried slithering back to the Rift, to escape the horrific fate that was awaiting them here in the real world, but it was futile. Nothing escapes Aedan Cousland. Aedan was having so much fun, he couldn't help but hum. And then sing.

Men of Redcliffe stop your dreaming

Can't you see their spear points gleaming?

See warrior pennants streaming

To this battlefield

Oghren knew this song by heart now, and couldn't help but join his old Commander. The song carried over the sounds of battle and reached the ears of Leliana and Nathaniel. Leliana couldn't help but smile, her heart soared with confidence, hope and valor. The first time she heard this song, they won a great victory, she was compelled to join in. Nathaniel knew this song better than he did the Chant of Light, it was a reminder of the Fereldan spirit, and it reminded them of what they were all truly capable of. Soon the song carried out through all the ranks and was sung on the lips of every soldier, even if they weren't Fereldan. This song reminded them of what true valor was, and it gave them the strength to fight on.

"What are they doing?!" Vivienne asked in disbelief.

"They's just...singing." Sera answered obliviously. She wished she knew the words, where did she hear that song before?

Men of Redcliffe, Stand ye steady

It cannot e're be said ye

For the Battle were not ready

Stand and never yield!

From The Hills rebounding

Let this War Cries sounding,

Summon all

To Moira's Call

The Might Foe's surrounding.

Men of Redcliffe on to Glory

This shall ever be your story

Heed these burning words before ye

Fereldan never yields!

It was working. The men found a new strength in the words, meaning and history of this song. They could it. The Inquisition could hold this line. They could win.

Back in The Fade...

Rajmael and the others finished killing the wave of demons the Nightmare had sent after them. Even after everything it sent after them, even in the heart of its own realm, The Nightmare still failed to kill them. Rajmael could sense its displeasure, and it made him smile.

"Do you really think you can fight me? I am your every fear come to life! Even with that infernal creature fighting with your doomed men, I am invincible! I am the veiled hand of Corypheus himself! That demon army you fear? The one Corypheus has summoned, and that pretender in the physical world vainly fights against? I command it! They are bound all through me."

"Ah. So if we banish you, we banish the demon army. Thank you, every fear come to life." The spirit of Justinia said graciously. The Nightmare roared in rage, having foolishly revealed the way to defeat it through its own arrogance.

"Wait it minute. Who was he talking about? What infernal creature? What pretender? Who is leading my men?" Rajmael asked confused.

"I see...so at long last, that warrior has found a way to combat this creature. He has been trying for so long. You will discover who it is in time." Justinia answered. "First you must defeat this demon. Close the door shut on it and banish it to the farthest reaches of the Fade where it will be muted, starved and forgotten."

They could see the Rift now, it was so close Rajmael could almost feel it through his mark. They just had to go a little farther.

"Look! There's the Rift! We're almost through!" Hawke yelled.

"Great, Hawke. Why not just ask for the Old Gods to come down here and try and stop us while you're at it." Varric said sarcastically.

They ran to the Rift it was just in range now, they could leave this forsaken place. But where was The Nightmare? Another one of the mountains in the Fade began moving, it was no surprise at this point. But was it moving on...legs? The mountain turned, and they realized too late that this wasn't a part of the Fade's geography. It was the Nightmare itself.

"Holy shit!"

It was so big, none of them noticed it. Like its underlings that had been hounding them, it was a giant spider, more hideous and stomach churning than anything that could possibly exist in the real world. A mouth like a crevice split down from its face and down to its underside, with dozens of dripping tongues hanging between rows of spear-like teeth. The mountainous, loathsome spider abdomen pulsated with life, and was crawling with a colony of fearlings living inside the grotesque creature, like parasites. Hundreds of hungry, angry eyes dotted it's whole being, on its head, body, mandibles and even it legs. And every single one of those eyes was looking right at the Inquisitor. And they looked pissed.

It moved forward with a single step that shook the very ground. How were they going to fight this thing?!

A beam of light cracked through the air like holy lightning, and struck the Nightmare down on it's vile belly, and making causing a small earth quake. The Spirit of Divine Justinia floated towards the lethargic creature burning with a cleansing light that made the Nightmare screech in a thousand pained screams.

"If you could please tell Leliana something for me; I'm sorry. I failed you, too." The Spirit of The Divine begged as she floated towards the crippled Nightmare. She burned like a star in the darkness as she engaged her demonic adversary. She erupted in a magnificent sun of brilliant light that sent repulsive creature to the ground, and incapacitated it.

They couldn't let that spirit's sacrifice be in vain. They had to move now. They ran to the Rift as fast as their legs could carry them. But before the could make it to the Rift, something emerged from the Nightmare's true form and got between them and the way out. Some sort of Aspect of The Nightmare was blocking their path. Why was it not facing them with its back turned? No matter. Rajmael did not come this far to be blocked now.

Rajmael drew his sword and cautiously approached the Aspect of Nightmare that refused to face him. This would end now. "You've caused too much pain for me to not kick your ass, creature. Face me!"

The Aspect turned to face The Inquisitor. And the form it took completely stunned Rajmael.

Cassandra didn't understand. What was this? Why would the Nightmare take a form such as this? It looked like an elven woman so beautiful that she couldn't be real. Long white-blonde hair that fell like a cascade of platinum down her shoulders. Her skin was a like the first undisturbed snow of winter, with delicate hands, and even from where she stood, Cassandra could see she had such brilliant green eyes, like two flawless emeralds. If Cassandra didn't know what this vision truly was, even she might have been jealous of such incredible beauty. What was this, and why did it seem to affect Rajmael so? Why did she look so familiar?

"Evanura..." Rajmael gasped in disbelief.

What? This was Evanura? Eva looked just like her mother. The Nightmare was trying to make Rajmael lower his guard! The other tried to reach him, but some kind of barrier was blocking them. He was alone with this creature.

"Aneth'ara, lethallan." Evanura greeted in that silvery voice that Rajmael had almost forgotten. "It has been too long."

Rajmael just stood there in utter silence completely stunned and at a loss for words. Here was the woman he loved his whole life, who was so brutally stolen from him by human ignorance. And now she stood before him like he had just seen her yesterday.

"Rajmael, why? Why have you turned your back on our people?" Evanura's beautiful voice cracked with pain. "Why have you forgotten me?"

Cassandra beat her fist against the barrier and tried to yell out to The Inquisitor, but it was no use. He was deaf to their calls, and all they could do was watch as this demon, this Aspect of the Nightmare tried to weaken Rajmael's resolve. While Cassandra, Dorian and Varric tried to call out to Rajmael, Hawke, Stroud and Varric tried to hold off the fearlings that were closing in on them. Cole, on the other hand, was standing in front of some wandering spirits, humming some kind of tune like they were getting ready for a chorus.

"Hey, Kid! What're you doing!? We could us a little help!" Varric called.

Cole was far too distracted with his fellow spirits to answer. "Hmm...mmm...Men of Redcliffe, stop you're dreaming...see their spear points gleaming..."

Still, the Inquisitor stood in silence. Whether entranced, or even thinking was anyone's guess.

Evanura extended her right hand pleadingly to Rajmael. And with her beautiful green eyes, she begged him to take. "Please, don't leave me, Rajmael. You could stay here with me. We can finally be together, where no one could ever harm us."

Several enraged veins bulged on Rajmael's forehead and pulsated furiously. His golden eyes turned into balls of fire as they burned with rage. In a flash like lightning, Evanura's extended arm went flying through the air and evaporated into ash after Rajmael cut it right off in a fit rage. "You dare?! You DARE?! Evanura is gone! I've made my peace with that! And she was not a simpering fair maiden who waited for a prince to save her! You disgrace her memory by defiling her image! Ar enaste ar'tu nadin! I will enjoy...KILLING YOU!"

"You won't live long enough to enjoy your next breath!" The Aspect of Nightmare turned back to Rajmael with a scorpion-like claw replacing the arm Rajmael hacked off. Evanura's beautiful façade gave way to the true demonic creature that wore it. A withered, gaunt creature with a head that looked like the body of a spider with massive, powerful legs kicking angrily and a tangle of gnarled limbs hung beneath a ragged robe. The Aspect of Fear made the barrier explode in a massive ring of fire as it prepared to attack. "You will never leave this place!"

"No. You won't." Rajmael smiled. "Do you hear that?"

The Nightmare looked around, and everywhere it looked the once wailing spirits that were scattered all over this realm, repeating the terrors this creature fed off of, were now surrounding all of them. Cole also stood with them, and all they all stared down the Nightmare, it no longer held sway over them. Even Rajmael could feel the intense gaze of all the spirits. Something began to resonate from the crowd of spirits. It started to off so quietly, but then it lifted, grew louder as each voice filled the Fade. Soon all their voices resonated all around them in a powerful chorus of thousands of unafraid voices in a song of valor.

Men of Redcliffe, stop your dreaming

Can't you see their spear points gleaming?

See their warrior pennants streaming,

To this Battlefield.

"NOO! All of you! Silence!" The Nightmare commanded. But they did not listen, he no longer commanded them. This song reflected the valor that flourished on the other side of the Fade.

Men of Redcliffe, Stand ye steady

It cannot e're be said ye

For the Battle were not ready

Stand and never yield!

From The Hills rebounding

Let this War Cries sounding,

Summon all

To Moira's Call

The Might Foe's surrounding.

Men of Redcliffe on to Glory

This shall ever be your story

Heed these burning words before ye

Fereldan never yields!

Rajmael approached the now fearful demon with his sword drawn, and full confidence in his stride. "You feed off the fear that the Blight inspires, but right now no one is afraid, are they? You tried to manipulate the fears in my heart, but that fear no longer exists, therefore you no longer exist. And that is your greatest fear, isn't it, Every Fear Come To Life? To be forgotten and no longer able to feed, and steal, and command the power those fears gave you? You will be forgotten, and you will never see the real world, or feed on our fears again!"

"N-no...please...not that." The Nightmare begged.

The Nightmare's pleas fell on deaf ears. This monstrosity had caused too much suffering for Rajmael to waste his mercy on. The mark on mark on Rajmael's hand crackled with life and his Shimmering Shield was now more like a halo of platinum white that blazed with awesome power. He held his sword above his head, the blade surged with power as a column of white veilfire burned straight into the sky like a great torch, illuminating the darkness of the Fade. Rajmael's whole being was engulfed in a corona of emerald green light.

"ENASALIN!" Rajmael's war cry echoed throughout the entire Fade, as he brought down his flaming sword down on the infernal Aspect of The Nightmare and burned it from all existence. It screams became nothing more than a dying echo, and then it was nothing at all. Just dead silence.

All the spirits slowly began to disappear from sight. With the Nightmare no longer commanding them, they no longer needed to remain here. Perhaps they'll find a better place in the Fade. One of dreams and hope than one of fear.

The halo around Rajmael dimmed and disappeared as he feel to his knees. Using so much power had completely drained everything out of him. With the Nightmare defeated, this realm of the Fade was beginning to crumble apart. This part of the Fade was being destroyed. They had to get out of here now, but Rajmael was too weak to even move now. Cassandra ran up to Rajmael and tried dragging him with her. Just a little further and they were home free.

But the Nightmare was not done yet. Its true form, the mountainous, heinous spider demon, dragged it's loathsome self over and blocked their path. Their was no way around it.

"We need to clear a path!" Stroud shouted.

"Go now! I'll cover you!" Hawke insisted.

"Hawke, now's not the time to be a hero." Varric interrupted.

"No, you were right, Hawke." Stroud admitted. "The Grey Wardens caused this, and a Grey Warden must make it right."

"The Grey Wardens need you to help them rebuild." Hawke argued. "I released Corypheus, I allowed him to escape and terrorize this world. I can at least take away his little pet."

This was something Rajmael hated the most about being a leader: determining who lives and who dies. It was a burden that weighed heavily. Stroud was the only Warden capable of leading the rest of his Order towards the righteous path, and Hawke was a great hero and symbol that the world needed. There was no time to think, Rajmael chose the man whose sacrifice he thought would mean the most. May the Creators forgive him. "Stroud..."

"Inquisitor Lavellan, it has been an honor fighting at your side." Stroud saluted and charged bravely to his doom, and did not flinch. "In peace, vigilance. In war, victory. In death...SACRIFICE!" The Senior Warden fearlessly hacked and slashed the titanic monstrosity with vengeful tenacity, and the demon felt every stroke of Stroud's sword. The Nightmare was incredibly weakened, and he was able to hold it off from the others. As Stroud courageously fought back the Nightmare, and as this realm of the Fade crumbled and died around them, they jumped straight into the Rift and broke on through to the other side.

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael and the others leapt right out of the mouth of the Fade, like a bat out of hell right into the middle of a raging battle. Rajmael was surprised to see both his soldier and the Grey Wardens fighting side by side, and winning against the demons. Sera, Vivienne, Leliana and Nathaniel stood on the ramparts shooting down anything that got in their sights, while Blackwall, Iron Bull, Cullen, Oghren and Sigrun were fighting in the thickest part of the battle. There was another warrior fighting alongside them, one Rajmael did not recognize. A warrior wielding a gruesome battle axe and blue Alamarii war pain tattooed on his face He was beyond fearsome, the level of destruction he inflicted was akin to that of a High Dragon. Holy shit. Aedan Cousland was here? No wonder they were kicking ass.

This was one of the most impressive battles Rajmael had ever seen, but it was time to end this. Rajmael lifted the Anchor, and just by simply clenching his marked fist, he sealed the Rift behind him like it was nothing. Without the Rift, the demons were no longer connected to the Fade, and instantly dropped dead. The Inquisition and Grey Wardens cheered triumphantly, the battle was their, despite the odds, and the Inquisitor once more returned from the depths of the Fade. It was nothing short of a miracle.

"That spirit was right." Hawke stated confidently. "Without The Nightmare to control them, the mages are free from it control, and Corypheus loses his demon army. But as far as they're concerned, the Inquisitor broke the spell with the blessing of the Maker."

Rajmael scoffed with disinterest. "That theory won't last long if I have any say about it."

"Ask Varric to tell them something. I know he'll come up with something epic." Hawke laughed.

Cullen approached and gave a relieved salute. "Inquisitor! That Archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared. The magister's alive...for the most part. I figured that you'd want to judge him for yourself. And as for the Wardens, the one who were not corrupted, they fought by our side against the demons. In fact, I dare say we might not have stood so well without their aid."

A ranked Warden approached and saluted humbly with regret in his eyes. "The remaining Wardens stand ready to make up for Clarel's...tragic mistake. Inqusitor, where is Warden Stroud?"

After all the bullshit he just went through because of the Warden's foolishness, Rajmael was not in the mood to sugarcoat the truth. "Warden Stroud is dead! He died to save the world from your lunacy! And unlike the rest of you, he actually chose to fight against the servant of the Blight. He alone stood against Clarel's insanity, and you branded him a traitor for it! He died to save you from your own stupidity!"

"Inquisitor, without Stroud, the Wardens of Orlais have no one of sufficient rank. Who will lead us?" The Warden officer asked.

"That's not true." Blackwall pointed out. "We still have the Hero of Ferelden."

"Tch. Don't be looking at me for sympathy." Aedan scoffed. "This isn't my operation, and you don't want to know the fate I'd inflict on you Orlesian dipshits for this cluster-fuck. You'd better hope the Inquisitor is more merciful than I am."

"Our Order lies in Ferelden. We must return there, not linger here." Nathaniel added.

After everything they did, and everything that could have happened thanks to their obsession with the Blight, Rajmael knew these men deserved to be punished. But they were misled, and almost brought to ruin because of Corypheus who was a true master of deception. Sometimes what the world needed was mercy, not more punishment. "You will remain, and you will do whatever you can to make up for this travesty you've caused. Some of you are still vulnerable to corruption, but I'm willing to honor Stroud's sacrifice to let you actually try and save this world for once."

"We...we will honor what you and Stroud have done for our Order." The Warden promised.

"Even after everything they've done, you would still give them a second chance?" Cassandra asked disbelievingly.

"Yes. Just like you would give the Seekers a second chance even after what they did."

"But they hurt people!" Cole reminded.

"So did you. You of all people should know how terrible some mistakes are, and how badly compassion is needed, Cole."

"And you choosing compassion over judgment may prove to be a mistake in the future." Solas warned.

"Hey, if some Vint asshole who created the Blight is walking around fucking shit up, the best people to have in your corner is the Wardens." Iron Bull insisted.

"I'm glad you agree. The Blights still threaten the world. And getting rid of the Wardens does nobody any favors." Blackwall reminded on behalf of his Order.

"Well, while you're doing that, I'll make for Hossberg in the Anderfels. The Wardens at Weisshaupt need to know what's happened here." Hawke informed. "But before I go anywhere, I've got a certain Rivaini pirate and Dalish mage to go see. After what I just saw in the Fade, I'm going to need a lot of their attention to forget all that creepiness."

While Hawke and the rest of the Inquisition and Grey Wardens cleared out, Rajmael wanted to speak with the Hero of Ferelden. Rajmael probably owed the lives of all his men to Aedan Cousland. But when he looked for him, the Hero was gone. Strange. Someone like Aedan Cousland was difficult to miss. "Leliana, Nathaniel, where is Aedan Cousland?"

"He was...just here a moment ago?" Leliana answered confused.

"Look over there." Nathaniel pointed over to the ramparts. How did he get over there so quickly?

"Hey, Aedan! Where the sod are you going already? We haven't even gotten to the drinking yet!" Oghren called over to him.

"Something's got to be wrong. Aedan would never leave without saying a word." Sigrun said with concern.

They all followed after Aedan. There was too much left unanswered for him to just up and leave. They made their way over to the ramparts and saw him just looking over the ledge with a look of contentment on his face.

"Something's definitely wrong here." Nathaniel pointed out. "Even after Amaranthine was saved, Aedan never looked so...peaceful."

"Aedan? Aedan Cousland of Highever?" Rajmael called. Was there something wrong with him?

"It's not him." Cole answered quietly.

Now Rajmael was confused. "What? What are you talking about, Cole?"

"He wears the face of what strikes fear into the wicked. He is the last breath against defeat, the strength to stand against the darkness. He is the final hope against all hope."

"Isn't that just like a Spirit of Compassion. All heart and no tact." The Hero of Ferelden laughed in a manner too magnanimous to be Aedan Cousland.

"Wait. If this isn't Aedan Cousland, then who is he?" Cassandra asked. "Another spirit?"

"Yes." The False Aedan answered with a smile. Like the Spirit of The Divine, this one was filled with a light that burned away the façade he was wearing. It revealed a spirit clad in armor carrying a glowing bright axe.

"No, no, no! Not more magic Fadey crap!" Sera denied.

"Just how drunk am I? This can't really be happening." Oghren shook his head.

"Aw shit! Not more of this weird crap!" Iron Bull grumbled.

"Ugh. Just wonderful. More demons, like that creature Cole." Vivienne groaned.

"It's...almost like Justice." Nathaniel remembered.

Solas almost didn't believe it himself. "How could I not have noticed this?"

"This...will probably make the best story of all." Varric admitted calmly.

"Who or what is he?" Dorian asked.

"Valor." Cole answered.

"Yes. Just as the Nightmare was a spirit who fed on the fears of the Blight, I am of a similar nature." The Spirit of Valor answered. "I am the last bit of strength to stand against the darkness, even when doom is imminent. When the last brave dwarf makes one last stand against the darkspawn, I am there. I stand with those gallant men who charge headlong into darkspawn horde so others might live. And I was there when Corin, Garahel and Aedan Cousland slew Zazikale, Andoral and Urthemiel."

"You were the pretender, the warrior both Divine Justinia and the Nightmare spoke of."

"Yes." The spirit answered.

"But why did you take the Hero of Ferelden's appearance? Why aid us?" Rajmael asked earnestly.

"The Nightmare and I have fought for centuries upon centuries. He would feed off the Blight, while I tried to inspire those to fight against it." The Spirit of Valor answered. "When the Rift here was ripped open to allow the Nightmare into this world, it also allowed me to enter here, and I took the form of the most Valorous soul to aid your people against the Nightmare, just as it would have aided Corypheus against you. And now, the Nightmare is destroyed, there is no need for me any longer."

"What will you do now?"

"I will do what I have always done and stand with those with the valor and courage to fight to their last breath against the darkness."

"Wait!" Leliana begged. "Can you tell us anything about what has happened to the real Aedan? You've seen how badly we need him."

"I'm afraid I do not know, Sister Leliana." The Spirit of Valor answered gently. "But do not fear. If even the smallest part of me is anything like the real Aedan Cousland, then he is someone I wouldn't want to fuck with." Almost everyone laughed at such a true statement. "You Rajmael Lavellan have shown the greatest amount of Valor of all. You stood and continue to stand against the darkness and you do not flinch or waver. I grant you my blessing. Now go forth and kick ass!"

Rajmael felt a new strength well up inside him. He could feel the lyirum in his veins burning with power and his magic increase. Was this how spirits felt in the Fade?

"Ma serannas, Elgar." Rajmael thanked sincerely.

"Oh, and one more thing." The Spirit of Valor balled his fist and smashed it straight into Vivienne's face. Bones broke and Vivienne was sent flying ten feet away and crashed into a wall.

"What the fuck!?" Iron Bull demanded.

"Oh, I like him now." Sera giggled.

"Okay, knowing Vivienne, she probably deserved that, but seriously, what the fuck?" Rajmael asked purely out of curiosity.

"Oh, come on. You've met this bitch, and you know she earned that. It's exactly what Aedan Cousland would have done." The Spirit of Valor laughed as he disappeared back to the Fade.

So Rajmael just defeated a demi-god Nightmare spirit, stopped Corypheus from getting his hands on a demon army, and regained his lost memory thanks to the help of the Spirit of Divine Justinia. And all the while a Spirit of Valor was posing as one of the greatest heroes of all time. Perhaps the Creators were more on his side than he thought. Now Corypheus lost his political plo y and his army, soon the Elder One wouldn't have a leg to stand on, and the world, and Corypheus himself, would see just how mortal he truly was. But the first order of business was to maybe get the knocked out Vivienne to a healer, because Rajmael was pretty sure the Not-Aedan just broke her pretty face. Every time Rajmael looked at Vivienne from now on, he would remember this moment, and it would make him laugh at her.

Language Codex:

Seth'lin Elvhen'alas: A profane elven insult, roughly translates as "Thin-blooded dirt elf."

Emma banal harel ar! Ma emma harel! Elven threat, roughly translates as "I do not fear you! You should fear me!"

Harellan: Elven, translate as "Traitor to ones' kin."

Ar enaste ar'tu nadin: Elven threat, translate as "I will enjoy killing you."

Enasalin: Elven word, translates as "Victory."

Ma serannas, Elgar: Elven, translates as "My thanks, Spirit."

Author's Note

Alright! So I had all my heroes fighting under one roof, more or less. How did you all like it? I used a lot of references from my last story, and I even brought back song "The Men of Redcliffe". For those of you who don't know this song, or don't know what the hell my references are, I STRONGLY urge you to click my profile and read my first story "I am Aedan of Highever". Aedan's story is completely canon with Rajmael's and is a good read overall.

Please review and give me your thoughts. The Dragon Age Franchise and all character and concepts therein are the property of the BioWare gaming company. Everything if do if for the enjoyment of other Dragon Age enthusiasts, and I own and claim nothing. Please review.