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.

37. Armageddon

Armageddon

With his business with his Councilors and companions finished, and after sharing one last tender moment with Cassandra, Rajmael finally made his way to Morrigan's private room where she kept her eluvian. Whatever secrets the Well of Sorrows had was now the key to Corypheus' defeat, and as much it pained Rajmael to know this, Morrigan was the only one now who knew what those secrets are.

A wave of shock smashed down on the Inquisitor when he entered Morrigan's chamber. The first surprise was finding Leliana there instead of Morrigan, but the greater shock came from seeing the eluvian activated. A strange and extreme amount of power was surging from the magic mirror like a tidal wave.

"Leliana, what happened?!"

"Inquisitor! Thank the Maker you're here." Leliana answered with worriedly. "Morrigan ran into the mirror after Kieran. She said he somehow activated it. I've never seen her so frightened."

"What? Kieran? How could he...? Never mind." How could a child like Kieran possibly activate a relic like an eluvian? Rajmael pushed the thought from his mind and focused on what was happening. "I'm going after them. Leliana, explain what happened to the others and makes sure nothing happens."

"Be careful, Inquisitor." The Spymaster bade.

Rajmael strapped his sword to his belt and ran into the eluvian. Whatever power activated this relic and brought Kieran through it, Rajmael had no doubt he might need his weapon.

~XoXoXo~

The Inquisitor emerged from the other side of the eluvian as easy as a doorway, but was dumbstruck to find where he now stood. Instead finding himself at the Crossroads with all the shattered or dormant mirrors and the strange colors glittering in the air that only elven eyes could see, he found himself standing in a nightmarish place that was alien yet so familiar. It was like he was trapped in a maze-like canyon surrounded by veins of lyrium and streams of vile green liquid. The green sky cracked with red thunder as a strange light with no sun fell to the ground. It was almost exactly like being in the realm of the Nightmare back at Adamant Fortress. Once again, Rajmael was standing physically in the Fade.

"This...this is impossible. How did the mirror take us here?" So many questions were flying in Rajmael's head like a flock of birds. From what he understood about the eluvians, each mirror could only lead to a single destination depending on the key that was used on it. How could a mere boy of ten years possibly have summoned enough power to have the eluvian bring them physically into the Fade? This was Corypheus' goal, and he had spent all the power he had gathered to get it, only to fail. Yet Kieran walked here like it was nothing. How?

Rajmael had to push the questions out of his mind. If they were in the Fade right now, and if it was anything like what he saw back in Adamant, Morrigan and Kieran could both be in terrible danger. The Inquisitor marched further into the dream world, searching for any sign of the child or his mother.

Rajmael heard something echoing through the stony walls of this realm. A voice, familiar and desperate, calling a name over and over. Kieran. Kieran. Kieran! He looked ahead and saw the Chasind woman crying desperately into the massive void of the Fade, tears verging in her golden eyes, hoping that her son could hear her.

"Morrigan!" The Inquisitor called.

"Go back! You cannot be here..." Morrigan bade. She was trying so hard to keep calm, but like any mother, she deathly concerned about her child's safety. "Why would Kieran do this? How could he do this?"

"We can still find him, Morrigan. But we must search together, he couldn't have gotten far." Rajmael tried to assure. For all that he might feel about Morrigan, he too was a parent, and the thought of losing Eva was his greatest fear. He couldn't let such a thing happen to Morrigan.

"This is the Fade, Inquisitor. Kieran could literally be anywhere. If he is lost to me now after all that I've sacrificed..." Morrigan's voice cracked with pain and tear of heartbreak escaped her eye. She wiped the tear away and tried to regain her composure. Now was not the time for weakness, not when her son was in danger. "Please, Inquisitor. Please, just a little longer. Help me find my son."

The two mages walked further into the strange realm. There weren't any demons here to attack them like there was the last time Rajmael was here, so that was promising. It meant that Kieran was also not being attacked. However, Rajmael's tracking skills were useless in a realm where the laws of physics meant nothing, and in the Fade, trusting only one's eyes could prove fatal.

"Inquisitor, look." Morrigan pointed to a spirit, a simple observer, looking directly at them. It looked like it was beckoning to them. There were other spirits nearby, all floating away from them, but this one hovered in place as if it wanted their attention.

"I think it wants us to follow it." Rajmael guessed. It seemed he was right. The spirit quickly made off, but not so fast that they couldn't keep up with it. The further they went, the more spirits they found were flying in the same direction, like something was calling them there. It looked like the spirits were trying to lead them to another clearing amongst the maze of this place.

Rajmael noticed something particularly strange about the region they were walking towards. There was no longer any streams of filthy liquid, but streams of crimson blood, Rajmael couldn't decide which was worse. Ruined statues of Tevinter dragons littering the ground like some terrible disaster had struck them down. But what really caught Rajmael's attention was the statues that depicted, yet at the same time, defaced the elven Creators.

Dirthamen was kneeling forward with a sword shoved through his back and out of his chest. Andruil had been cast to the ground, her body riddled with arrows. Falon'din was struck down, his body broken into pieces while Sylaise was being devoured by crows and dogs. He saw Elgar'nan standing tall with his hand held out, carrying his own severed head. Rivers of blood surged from the Creators' open wounds and pained mouths. Rajmael could scarcely believe he was witnessing such sacrilege. Was this part of the Fade directed towards elven hatred?

The spirits gathered around in the clearing like a grand chorus, watching with deep intent at the outsiders who had come to their realm. In the middle of the clearing stood Kieran, safe and whole. But there was someone else there. A figure that Rajmael didn't recognize, but these spirits were looking at the most.

"There he is!" Morrigan sighed in relief.

"Who is that with him?"

"That's...no. No it can't be!" Morrigan gasped, terror and disbelief clutching her heart.

The two of them entered the clearing, the spirits watching all of them closely as they approached Kieran and the woman who summoned them all here. She stood tall with a sense of grace that belayed her age. There was an air of authority surrounding her that could put Vivienne to shame. Her white hair was styled and held in a fashion that was reminiscent to dragon horns and wore a strange metallic headpiece that pointed skyward like a horn the fit with her armor and leather robe, furthering her draconic appearance. There was something very familiar about this woman, but Rajmael couldn't figure out what.

There was something more to this woman than her appearance, obviously. Whoever she was, Rajmael could feel his sword hand twitching. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that she was dangerous. Surrounding this mysterious figure was an aura of magic that Rajmael didn't know existed. Something very ancient and powerful. All most as if she was constructed purely of magic, like a spirit only more powerful. Whoever she was, Rajmael could feel Morrigan's magic starting to flare up dangerously. Who was she?

The woman was kneeling before Kieran, and the boy looked like he was bestowing some kind of magic energy to her. What was this? Kieran ceased what he was doing when he noticed the Inquisitor and his mother approaching. He was so calm, despite being in the Fade. As though the dangers of this place meant nothing to him, nor the worry of his mother.

"Mother!" Kieran cried happily, a wide smile on his young face.

"Mother..." The word escaped Morrigan's lips like poison, her golden eyes glaring dangerously at the older woman standing next to her child.

Mother? That's who this woman was? This was Asha'bellanar? Yes, Rajmael could see the similarities between the two witches. Their features, their eyes, even the same air of arrogance that made Rajmael want slap them both. Every Dalish in every clan, especially the mages were aware of the Woman of Many Years, and knew to be cautious of her. Rajmael's hand gripped his sword on instinct. What the hell was going on here?

"Now, isn't this a surprise?" The legendary Witch of the Wilds chuckled with a beguiling yet fierce voice.

"I thought that the stories about you stealing children were nothing more than the frightened foolishness of shemlen fishwives." Rajmael scoffed. "But it seems that all tales do in fact stem from truth."

"Nonsense." Flemeth refuted indignantly. "He came seeking me out all on his own, like any good grandson." Flemeth patted the boy on the head with a look of affection in her eyes. "So clever and polite. Perhaps it's from his father's side of the family? I doubt my Morrigan could raise my grandson to be such a good lad."

"Kieran is not your grandson. Let him go!" Morrigan demanded viciously.

"As if I were holding the boy hostage. Forgive my Morrigan, she's always been so ungrateful, you see." The witch said to the Inquisitor as though she were chiding Morrigan like a six-year old in front of a guest.

"Ungrateful!" Morrigan spat hatefully. "I know how you plan to extend your life, wicked crone!

"Extends her life? What are you talking about?" Rajmael questioned. Many Dalish mages wondered how Asha'bellanar, a human, has been able to live on for so many centuries. Many of them knew suspected it was some form of bloodmagic, or that she was possessed by some kind of powerful demon.

"During the Blight, I discovered that Flemeth extends her unnatural lifespan by possessing the bodies of her daughters." Morrigan hissed with hate and betrayal. "A fate she had intended for me. If Aedan hadn't intervened, I do not doubt she would have succeeded."

Rajmael looked at the witch completely stunned. He couldn't help but be surprised even though he should not have been. The Dalish were very aware of Asha'bellanar's dark and fickle nature. She'd either offer aid to those who sought her, or kill them horribly and leave pieces of their bodies hanging from the trees. But as a parent, Rajmael could not comprehend a mother, no matter who they were, doing such a thing to her own flesh and blood for her own gain. Flemeth was truly a vile creature indeed.

"Ah, yes. Your beloved Hero of Ferelden. The handsome noble with the tattoos on his face. I still remember the sting of that Starmetal blade of his being shoved through my skull." Flemeth chuckled as she rubbed her forehead, remembering the horrible pain that once dwelled there. "Alas, it seems he is not here, mores the pity. No son should grow up without a father. But then, you never needed a father in your life."

Morrigan became outraged the more her ghastly mother spoke. Rajmael could feel her magic beginning to flare. His hand gripped his sword, ready to fight. Ready for anything.

"Don't you dare speak of Aedan in front of me! You will not have me, and you will not have my son!" Morrigan raised her hands and an aura of green magic enveloped them as she prepared to unleash a destructive spell on her hated mother. There was enough energy in that spell to knock down a giant.

"Now that's quite enough. You'll endanger the boy." Flemeth chided and waved her hand as though she were giving an order to a servant, and against her will, Morrigan hands were forced down and her powerful spell was negated. It was as if some invisible force had halted Morrigan dead in her tracks.

Morrigan was stunned and bewildered. How could this have happened? She looked at Flemeth with fear and shock in her voice. "What...what have you done to me?"

The Witch of the Wilds cackled as though the question were a joke. "I have done nothing, dear girl. You drank from the Well of your own free will."

A shocked gasp escaped Morrigan's throat as realization of the truth hit her. There was only one possible answer. "You...are Mythal."

Flemeth smiled and nodded gently. At long last the Witch of the Wild's true nature revealed to her daughter.

"What? No. No, you can't be." Rajmael denied with every ounce of strength he had. He refused to believe this revelation, even as the impact of it shook his very core.

"And explain, dear boy, why can't I be what I am?" Flemeth laughed.

"Mythal was the goddess of justice, our protector. I've seen the statues, read the lore." Rajmael argued, trying to convince himself more than her. "She was..."

"One of the People? Yes, she most certainly was." Flemeth answered with sincere honesty. The old witch looked upon the Inquisitor with respect and even a glint of admiration. Flemeth tapped Kieran on the back, giving him leave to go to his mother. The boy ran up to Morrigan and she held him close her arms on the verge of tears, happy to her see baby on unharmed.

"I am sorry I worried you mother." Kieran said sadly. "I heard her calling me. She said now was the time." Kieran let go of her mother and returned to Flemeth's side.

Morrigan felt her heart breaking at the sight of her own child willingly going over to Flemeth. Her voice cracked with pain. "I...don't understand."

Flemeth stood before her daughter, grim and foreboding. "Once I was but a woman, desperate and alone, crying for the justice that was denied me. Then she found me, a wisp of an ancient being from a time long forgotten. And she granted me all that I desired and more. I have carried Mythal with me ever since. Seeking the justice that was denied her."

"What do you mean 'Carried with you'?" Rajmael questioned.

"She is a part of me. No more different or more separate than your heart is from your chest." Flemeth answered, turning her gaze to Morrigan. "You hear the voices of the Well, girl. What do they tell you?"

Morrigan closed her eyes and tried to focus on the many voices running through the back of her mind, in her subconscious. She listened for an answer amongst the many whispers. "They...they say you speak the truth."

"But what was Mythal? A legend given a name and called goddess? A powerful elven leader? Or something more? Truth is never the end, but the beginning." Flemeth spoke in her trademark riddles. She turned her gaze to the Inquisitor, a look of respect in her ancient eyes. "So young and vibrant. A herald of change in a time of conflict, harbinger of a new age. You do the People proud, and have come far."

"Coming from the goddess who has ignored my people for so many centuries, that means less to me than what my halla shits out." Rajmael spat with enough venom to shame a cobra, earning a surprised look from all of them. Flemeth was especially taken aback.

"Oho, and here I was thinking that my dear Morrigan was moving in cordial company." Flemeth laughed.

"If you thought I was cordial, then you really have no idea who the fuck I am." Rajmael hissed. "If Mythal is truly a part of you, why haven't you helped us for all these centuries?!"

"You know not what you ask, child." Flemeth evaded.

"Bullshit I don't!" Rajmael snapped furiously. "I know that for two thousand years the elven people have been beaten, abused, and violated by every major power that has appeared in this miserable fucking world. I know that the Dalish were broken and scattered for refusing to abandon our faith in you. And what are you? Some frigid old crone, who sluts it up in a cold swamp. IS THIS WHAT MY PARENTS DIED FOR?!" Rajmael's anguished roar resonated throughout the Fade, making a look of guilt glaze over Flemeth's eyes. "Why would she choose you if not to save our people?!"

"For a reckoning that will shake the very heavens." Flemeth answered with a cryptic smile on her face.

"And you follow her whims?" Morrigan questioned. "Do you even truly know what she is?"

"You seek to preserve the powers that were, but to what end?" Flemeth questioned in response, her face wilting into a dourly. "It's because I taught you, girl. Because things happened that were never meant to happen. She was betrayed as I was betrayed. As the world was betrayed! Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!" Flemeth's own voice shook through the Fade, causing the spirits watching them to shake in fear. "Alas, so long as the music plays, we must dance."

"You, Mythal', whatever the fuck you are, you would forsake everything, our entire people, just for your own vengeance?" Rajmael demanded.

"Is that not what it means to serve a god? You of all people should know that by now." Flemeth answered.

"Inquisitor, please. We don't have time for this." Morrigan beseeched desperately. Rajmael ceased his angered question, but not his deathly glare. "Why did you come here."

"For one thing, and one thing only." Flemeth answered, smiling down at Kieran.

Kieran looked at his mother sorrowfully, yet with a sense of determination in his eyes. "I have to go now, Mother."

"No. No, I will not allow it." Morrigan refused to back down.

"He carries a piece of what was. Snatched from the jaws of darkness. You know this." Flemeth reminded.

"He is not your pawn, Mother. I will not let you use him!" Morrigan determined with a strength only a mother could possess.

"Have you not used him? Was that not the reason why you agreed to his creation? The reason why you deceived the man you claim to love, and then left him like a thief in the night when you had what you wanted?" Flemeth countered coldly.

Those words cut deeply into Morrigan. Because it was all true. "That was then. Now he...he is my son."

The cold, sardonic look on Flemeth disappeared from her face, if only for an instant. She seemed impressed by her daughter's answer.

"Wait. What is she talking about? Is Kieran special?" Rajmael questioned.

"I am not the only one possessing the soul of a being long thought lost." Flemeth answered.

"He is more than that, Mother." Morrigan protested.

"As am I, dear girl. Yet do you hear me complain? Our destinies are not so easily avoided."

"Mother, I have to." Kieran insisted sadly.

"You do not belong to her, Kieran. Neither of us do!" Morrigan implored desperately.

"If he is so special, if you want him so badly, why did you wait until now to take him?" Rajmael asked.

"Because I did not know where he was. Morrigan cleverly kept him hidden from me...until now." Flemeth sneered.

"T'was the Well..." Morrigan gasped.

"So clever, Morrigan, but always grasping beyond your reach, despite what I taught you." Flemeth almost taunted. "Even the Inquisitor here told you that there would be a price to pay, and you said that you would gladly pay it."

Morrigan cringed bitterly while Rajmael looked at her with contempt, both of them clearly remembering how willing and arrogant she was back in the Temple. Rajmael pushed back whatever feelings he had about Morrigan and tried to concentrate on why they were here. "Whatever he may possess, whatever you may think of him, Kieran is still just a child!"

"And so much more well-behaved than his mother was at his age." Flemeth smiled at the boy. "But my daughter struggles against all opposition. I expect no less of her."

"If you did not have this hold over me, I would do more than oppose you." Morrigan seethed bitterly, yet helpelessly. Rajmael's hand instinctively grasped his sword.

"Then you would do something you'd both regret." Flemeth threatened. "In this place, my power is greater than either of yours, and your precious Hero isn't here to step in and save you."

"I'd take that chance. You wouldn't be the first god that I've faced down." Rajmael said with hostility.

"So I have heard, more than you know." Flemeth chuckled. "But as long as I have my lovely Morrigan in my thrall, you have no choice."

Morrigan fell to her knees in defeat. Her heart broken, she would beg anything to stop this. "Kieran, I...please."

Flemeth looked at Morrigan with pity in her eyes before turning her attention back to Kieran. Kieran looked up to her pleadingly.

"As you wish." The witch conceded. "Hear my proposal, dear girl. Let me take the lad, and you are free of me forever. I will never again interfere with your life or attempt to harm you. Or, keep the lad with you...and you will never be safe from me. I will have my due."

"He returns with me." Morrigan answered within a heartbeat.

"Decided so quickly?"

"Do whatever you wish to me, take over my body now if you desire, but Kieran will be free from your clutches." Morrigan offered desperately. "I am many things, but I will not be the same mother you were to me."

A look of sadness came over Flemeth, as if she could actually feel such a thing, at hearing Morrigan's words. As if she had a heart that could still be broken. Flemeth turned to her grandson and gently took his hands in hers. Kieran stood calmly, like he was ready for whatever would happen. Kieran's eyes lit up like candles. A wisp of gently glowing energy emerged from his chest like a star burning in the night sky. Kieran watched as this part of himself floated away and was absorbed by Flemeth.

"No more dreams?" Kieran asked hopefully.

"No more dreams." Flemeth assured with a gentle smile on her face. Kieran smiled happily and went back to his mother's side. "A soul is not forced upon the unwilling, Morrigan. You were never in any danger from me." Morrigan held her son and looked at her mother with disbelief. "Listen to the voices, Morrigan. They will teach...as I never did." Flemeth turned around and began walking back into the void of the Fade.

"Wait!" Morrigan called, but her cry fell upon deaf ears, and Flemeth kept walking.

The Fade crackled and shook with power and the observing wisps fled in terror as a vicious arc of white veilfire flew past Flemeth, barely missing her by a hair, and stopped the Witch of the Wilds dead in her tracks. Never before had anyone dared such a thing.

"ASHA'BELLANAR!" Rajmael fumed with rage, his sylvanwood sword drawn and burning with white fire. "You're not leaving here until I have some fucking answers!"

Flemeth turned to face the Inquisitor, more surprised than scared. "Answers? To what questions? Many people desire answers, but seldom few can accept the truth."

"After everything I have suffered, everything my people have suffered for trying to remain loyal to our heritage, I think I'm entitled to know the truth! In fact, I DEMAND it!" Rajmael demanded furiously. If his blood was fire and his heart a furnace, Rajmael rage would have incinerated this whole realm into a smoldering pile of ash.

"My, my, but you have some gall." Flemeth laughed. "You dare to make demands, even turn your weapon on me? Even after what you've learned? I possess a god."

"Like I said, you wouldn't be the first god I've faced down. Shit, you wouldn't even be the first one I've killed." Rajmael held his sword firmly, ready attack at the slightest provocation. "If any god wants my respect, you earn it."

A loud cackle erupted from Flemeth's lips like what the Inquisitor said was the funniest thing she'd heard in years. "Ah-ha-ha! Oh, I do admire your spirit, young man. It would seem that you and Aedan Cousland have something in common. You really do your People proud. It's no wonder Corypheus fears you. And why he admires you."

"He? He, who?" Rajmael questioned confusedly. "Corypheus?"

"No, certainly not." Flemeth chuckled. "But that isn't important right now. If you wish to defeat Corypheus, Morrigan will have the answer you seek." Flemeth once again turned to leave, and this time, she had no intention of turning back.

"Wait! I have questions!" Rajmael yelled after her.

"Then I hope you find the answers you seek, Inquisitor." Flemeth remarked, never looking back.

The veins in Rajmael's head bulged furiously, and his eyes burned with intensely enough to match the fury of the flames on his sword. He would not suffer this insult. "DON'T YOU TURN YOUR BACK ON ME!"

The Inquisitor brought his sword down in a powerful slash, fueled by his intense anger, and sent a wave of white fire cascading down on the legendary witch, with the intent to burn her to a pile of ash. The wave of white fire crashed against the cold stone of the Fade walls and evaporated into mist. Flemeth had disappeared from this very plane of existence. Heated breaths of anger fumed from Rajmael's nostrils and his sword shook in his enraged grip, cause his knuckles to turn white. His rage boiled inside him like an ocean. For the first time in his life, one of his gods actually appeared to him, only to turn her back on him.

"Inquisitor, please! We must go!." Morrigan pleaded, holding her son's hand firmly in hers.

Rajmael finally relented. He would not get the answers he sought here, but at least they got Kieran back.

~XoXoXo~

The three of them emerged from the eluvian and found themselves back in Morrigan's room in Skyhold. Morrigan deactivated the ancient mirror and breathed a sigh of relief, happy to be far from that place and her son returned. Morrigan held her son close to her, never wanting to let him go again. "Kieran, are you alright?"

"I feel lonely." Kieran answered sadly.

Morrigan smiled at her son, and he at her, happy that he was safe with her. Morrigan urged him to go and stood alone with the Inquisitor. Both of them still trying to come to terms with the revolutionary truths they had learned. Neither of them could full believe what had just happened.

"My mother wanted the Old God soul all along. And she herself possesses the soul of an old elven goddess, or whatever Mythal was." Morrigan could still barely believe it even as she spoke. "I always thought that so-called elven gods were little more than glorified rulers. I never dreamed that any of them could still be walking the earth, let alone be my mother." Morrigan sighed wearily from all that she had learned. "Is it worth telling myself that I don't know everything."

"What did you and your mother mean that Kieran possessed a piece of what was? How is it he possessed the soul of an Old God?" Rajmael questioned.

Morrigan averted her eyes, the memory of those days was one she did not look back on that proudly. "During the final days of the Fifth Blight, I performed a...a ritual to take the soul of the Old God Urthemiel, and pass it on to my child, without the corruption of the darkspawn taint that made it into an Archdemon. My son has never known anything else." A shade of defeat cloaked Morrigan's face. "Kieran had a destiny, but now it is in Flemeth's hands. Now, we'll just have to see what she does with it."

"But why? Why would you do something like that to your child?"

"I told you back at the Temple, Inquisitor, the powers of old must be preserved, no how feared or the cost." Morrigan reminded.

"It didn't look like were that willing to pay that cost when Flemeth had your son and was playing you like a puppet on string, Morrigan." Rajmael shot back. "You were arrogant enough to think that you had the ability to control and manipulate such powers when you didn't even respect the price such powers demand. And in your arrogance, your stupidity, you placed your own son in danger! You have no right to dabble in such things that you don't understand. You had no right to do such a thing to your own child!" Rajmael's outrage stemmed from being a parent. He could never imagine placing such a burden on Eva.

"Heh. 'Tis funny. You almost sounded like Aedan for a moment." Morrigan chuckled bitterly, remembering that not all that long ago, Aedan said those same words to her when she told him what she intended for their child. "Just be grateful that you didn't drink from the Well, Inquisitor. I, on the other hand, am bound to my mother for eternity, it seems."

"That was the bed you chose to make, Morrigan. Now you have to sleep in it." Rajmael dejected.

"Do you not think I know that? Do you not think that this is my worst fear come true? Why rub salt in it?" Morrigan finally snapped angrily.

"Because, Morrigan, you were warned of the price! You were told that you would become bound to the will of Mythal, and you didn't even care what that meant!" Rajmael reminded. "Just like you didn't care what danger you would bring to Kieran by placing the Old God soul with him. You stole an ancient power you did nothing to earn. You simply manipulated and cheated your way into having it, like a typical fucking human. Now you have all the lost secrets of my ancestors, while my people still have nothing. And now you have to live with it, for the rest of eternity."

Pained anger scowled over Morrigan's face. The Inquisitor's words cut into her like a piece jagged of glass carving into her heart. "How dare you judge me! You...! You're...you're right. I...didn't understand. I...never thought to question myself because I thought doubt was a weakness. I should never have let this happen. I...should have listened to Aedan all those years ago. I should never have done such a thing to my own baby!" Morrigan averted her eyes from the Inquisitor, the weight of what she allowed to happen crushed down on her. For the first time since she was a child, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed helplessly.

Rajmael felt his anger melt into pity at the sight of Morrigan weeping. Some would doubt that she was capable of such a thing, but Rajmael knew that she was still only mortal. And as Rajmael knew all too well, mortals were flawed creatures, capable of making the most terrible mistakes. Despite all her pretenses and mistakes, Morrigan was still a woman who almost lost her child, and Rajmael knew that there was no greater pain than that.

"For what it's worth, Morrigan, I think you made the right choice when Flemeth made you that offer." Rajmael sighed, placing his hand on her should comfortingly. "Protecting our children, no matter the cost to ourselves, is the most sacred duty of a parent. And being a parent is the closest thing we mortals have to being gods."

"Forgive me, Inquisitor." Morrigan took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes, trying to recover from her moment of weakness. Now was not the time for tears. "My mother was right about one thing: I can match the power of Corypheus' dragon. The voices of the Well know its weakness."

"Go to the War Room. I will meet you and the rest of my War Council there."

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael found himself all alone in the garden, everyone else was off doing their own work or making preparations for the final assault. The Inquisitor stood before the small wooden shrine dedicated to the Creators, gifted to him by Mythra of Ostagar when Eva first arrived at Skyhold. The weight he felt was so terrible, that he fell to his knees before. But this time, no prayers of reverence or thanks escaped his lips, only an anguished cry of loss and anger. Never before had Rajmael looked at the depiction of his gods and so unclean, ashamed. There were hardly any words deep enough to describe this horrid, sickly feeling dwelling inside him. It was much more intense than anger, more vile than disgust, and more painful than any wound he had ever suffered: Betrayal.

Rajmael finally understood what Leliana was feeling when they first met back in Haven. How she was beginning to lose her faith, even as she still knelt to pray. His whole life, Rajmael had dedicated himself to the faith and worship of the elven gods. Foreswearing and even condemning the worship of the Maker as false and hypocritical. His piety was a core part of his who he was, his whole being. The Inquisitor stared at his own hand, recalling the scar that had once dwelled there for most of his life, and felt like an utter fool. When it was removed by the magic of the Temple, Rajmael thought that he had been blessed by the gods, but no. It was simply another form of magic. No true miracle or act of divine intervention.

His greatest desire had turned into his worst nightmare: Mythal the Protector, one of the mightiest of the elven gods, had appeared before him in the flesh. And what was she? An infamous Chasind witch known for stealing children and murdering the men she seduced. That was their great protector? That was the goddess Rajmael's parents defied the Chantry to worship, and were executed for it? Rajmael felt like someone took a hot knife and carved out an irreplaceable piece of him, leaving behind nothing but an empty hole.

Rajmael looked upon the shrine to the Creators and felt that freshly carved hole in his soul filling to the brim with all the anger he possessed. For the first time in his life, in known elven history, Mythal had appeared to an elf. And she turned his back on him. For the past eight hundred years that the legend of Flemeth, Mythal had walked the world. And what did the Great Protector do for the people who so desperately cried to her for protection? Ignored them. No different than the Chantry's absent Maker who abandoned his creations. All the gods did was take, and take, and take, but never gave anything back, even while their worshippers so desperately begged for their help.

All the betrayal that he felt overflowed in his heart like a flood, pumping it through his veins like a terrible poison. How could he live witch such a vile feeling polluting his whole being? There was only one way to purge this taint from his soul. His hand gripped his sword so firmly his knuckles turned white, and held the enasalin above his head. With a final burning tear painfully trailing down his eye, the Inquisitor brought his sword down upon the shrine he so fervently revered. The shrine was split in twain, and the images of the Creators burned in white fire. And with this final act, Rajmael's faith burned away with the shrine.

~XoXoXo~

"Are you both alright?" Leliana asked with genuine concern as the two of them entered the War Room. "Morrigan, did you...find what you were looking for?"

"I can match the darkspawn magister's dragon, yes." Morrigan answered honestly. Both her and Rajmael were doing their best to not let anyone see how what just transpired in the Fade was effecting them. "As for matching Corypheus himself, I am afraid that is entirely up to you, Inquisitor."

"I can't kill what I can't find, Morrigan." Rajmael reminded. "If we're to end this, Corypheus must crawl out of whatever hole he's snuck into."

"That's not practical, Inquisitor." Cullen informed staunchly. "We've been letting him have the first move for too long. Now that he's weak and his forces depleted, we must take the fight to him before he comes to us."

"That's just not possible, Commander." Leliana stated. "We've been looking for his bas since this all began, with no success. Even after you and the Inquisitor burned down the Shrine of Dumat, he's managed to evade our scouts."

"His dragon must come and go from somewhere." Cullen insisted. "You can't just hide something like that. Someone is bound to spot it."

"What about the Deep Roads?" Josephine suggested. "We could send an envoy to Orzammar to aid in our search?"

"No, there's just too many..."

As the Commander spoke, thunder cracked from a clear sky, and the rays of the sun turned from yellow to a sickly green, and bathed the room in green light. The mark on Rajmael's hand came to life with energy crackling from his palm and up his arm. The power of the Anchor seemed to be drawn to whatever was on the horizon, making the Inquisitor's hand move towards it involuntarily. Like it was being called to it.

All of them looked through the stained glass window, every soul in Skyhold gazed up at the sky as a familiar and terrifying sense of dread clutched to them. Over on the other side of the Frostbacks, the sky roiled and cracked with green lightning and shrieking thunder. On the edge of the wind, they could hear the shrill screams of demons pouring back into the world. The Breach had been reopened, and from it's maw, demons once again were falling on to the earth.

"It seems Corypheus is not content to just wait." said Morrigan.

"He's in the Valley of Sacred Ashes." Rajmael realized.

"Either you close the Breach once more, or it swallows the world." Morrigan instructed.

"But that's madness! Would it not kill him as well?" Josephine asked trying to keep her panic at bay.

"If he can't be the god of this world, then there's no point in there being a world, as far as he's concerned." Rajmael spoke with apt insight into his nemesis' mind.

"Inquisitor, we have no forces to send with you. We must wait for them to return from the Arbor Wilds." Cullen informed. It would foolish of the Inquisitor to try and fight the Elder One on his own.

"That's not impossible." Leliana denounced. "The longer we wait, the more damage the Breach will cause."

"The Inquisitor has only just sealed most of the Rifts in Southern Thedas." Josephine reminded. "If the Breach remains open, everything we've accomplished could be undone."

"It took every mage we had to seal the Breach the first time, and that was before Corypheus showed himself." Cullen argued. "Facing him now, without any form of aid or militaristic assistance, is exactly what Corypheus wants."

"It's what we both want." Rajmael spoke with no fear and staunch determination in his voice. "My sole purpose for being Inquisitor has been for this moment. He has taken enough from us. Now we will take everything from him. Get the others ready, we leave immediately."

~XoXoXo`

Rajmael stood in his chambers while the rest of his companions made their final preparations. In all the times before, whenever he was about to go on a dangerous mission, like in Halamshiral and Adamant, Rajmael would find himself in the garden, standing before the shrine of the Creators and prayed for strength. But after what he learned in the Fade of Mythal's existence, Rajmael could no longer bring himself to utter a prayer. If Mythal, one of the mightiest of the elven gods, didn't even bother with answering any prayers, why would any of the other gods?

Still, Rajmael's faith was an inextricable part of who he was. Who could he ask for strength and the will to do what is necessary if not his people's own gods? He could never bring himself to pray to the Maker, He was unworthy of elven prayers. Who could he possibly ask for the will to do what was necessary? Who could grant him the strength to carry on in his final battle with the ultimate evil?

His spirit in turmoil, searching for peace, Rajmael finally fell to his knees and uttered a desperate prayer to those who always had his faith. Those who had always touched his life, and those whose power of the spirit Rajmael knew to be true.

"Mother, Father. Junnarel, Nethras, Evanura. If any of you are truly out there, if your spirits do watch over me, then please I beg your help now." Rajmael pleaded desperately. "The gods I have prayed to for so long have never aided me. They have abandoned our people. You taught me how to be an elf of the Dalish clans. You taught me the strength and spirit of our people. Now please, give me the strength to face my enemy in my final battle with him. Grant me the strength to return victorious that I may return to our people, and to Eva. Las ar enasalin, ten las ar atishan."

Nothing. Nothing but silence. Rajmael's prayer was once again in vain. He rose from his knees with nothing, he would have to fight without anyone else's strength but his own. But as he walked to the door, Rajmael felt something pulling him. Like some quiet, indescribable urge was pulling him back into the room. He walked over to the vault he kept in his room, it was filled with the rare treasures and relics he had discovered during his time with the Inquisition

He found himself searching for something, for what, he didn't know. There were so many lost treasures and ancient artifacts stored here. Orlesian heirlooms, dwarven weapons, Tevinter enchantments. So many grand and even powerful items that many would kill for, but none were what he was blindly searching for. Amongst the various artifacts and relics, Rajmael found something he had just left here. Something he couldn't believe he had forgotten: The Shards of Sulevin.

How could he have forgotten? The remains of one of the most powerful weapons in known elven history? He recovered these shards himself from the Cradle of Sulevin from the Revenants that had guarded them for centuries, a feat that had claimed the lives of countless others before him. Nethras coveted this sword ever since the two of them were children together. Nethras demanded that Rajmael retrieve the shards for him as payment for his foolish mistake that cost Nethras his wife, Evanura, whom they both loved. But Rajmael betrayed his brother and stained his own honor by giving him a set of false shards created by Dagna. Rajmael endured this shame in order to stop his brother from committing a graver crime, an act that still haunted him. And now the Shards of Sulevin were in his possession, all his.

But what could he do with these shattered pieces of ancient metal? They were useless. Even Dagna and all the mages in Skyhold couldn't reforge this blade. As Rajmael looked upon the broken sword, his mind flashed back to when he handed Nethras the false Shards of Sulevin back in Elgar'nan's Bastion. Nethras had discovered some sort of spell that repaired that shattered blade, even though he himself was not a mage. But the Inquisitor didn't know such a spell existed, let alone how to cast one.

He closed his eyes and tried so had to remember. What did Nethras say? It was an elven tongue that not even Rajmael knew. A dialect that had died so many centuries ago. But as he concentrated, the words somehow came flooding back into his mind like a stream. Like someone was whispering the words into his pointed ears from the furthest corners of his mind. He began to remember and recited the incantation, even though he did not understand the words that were coming from his own mouth.

What was he doing? He didn't know. Reciting empty words he didn't even understand, like a parrot trying to recite poetry, in a vain attempt to find faith that he had lost. It was hopeless. What could invoking the dead do when the gods could do nothing? Rajmael finally gave up, he wasting his time. He opened his eyes, and his heart nearly stopped inside his chest.

The Sulevin Blade laid before him, completely restored to its former glory. Not a blemish on the blade, as if it had never suffered even a scratch, despite being shattered for over eight hundred years. Rajmael tried to keep his hands from shaking, hoping that this wasn't just a cruel hallucination from a tormented mind. He held the blade in his hands, it was lighter than a feather, and the elven runes on the blade glimmered like diamonds. The very sound it made as it cut the air was like a beautiful song. He felt the ancient power of the blade, the magicks that forged it, course through his body like warmth from a fire. One the verge of tears, Rajmael felt like the weight of a mountain had been taken off of him and his spirit soared with a newfound strength. For the first time in his life, someone actually answered his prayers.

"Ma serannas, Nethras. Thank you, my brother."

The Temple of Sacred Ashes

The Valley of Sacred Ashes was eclipsed in an unnatural shade that blanketed the entire Frostbacks in darkness. The black sky shattered and rumbled with streaks of green lightning splitting the air. The only form of light that illuminated the darkness on the ground was the sickly glow of the red lyrium that had infect the valley. Entire stones and boulders levitated off the ground as if gravity meant nothing. And the Inquisition soldiers that had been posted there stood with ice clutching at their hearts at the sight of the Elder One approaching them, his magical orb radiating with power.

The blight-corrupted creature cut a sinister figure that seemed to just tower over all of them. He stood before a shattered statue of Andraste as his malignant, clawed hands toying with the orb. His eyes, so full of malice and anger, gazed down on the Inquisition soldier sickeningly, with a sadistic smile on his blighted face. This would become his first hour of godliness. He would make these pitiful ant accept him as their rightful god, or he would mercifully end their putrid existence.

"Tell me. Where is your Maker now? Call on him! Cast his wrath upon me!" Corypheus dared the soldiers, but nothing happened. "You cannot? Because He doesn't exist! I am Corypheus. I shall lead from this lie in which you linger. Bow before your new god and be spared!" The orb floated high over the Elder One as if to exalt him, it's power burning with a red aura.

"Never!" A brave soldier spat at the Elder One, refusing to submit. The other soldiers mustered their courage and held their ground, even as they knew they were looking at death in the face.

Corypheus looked at them with unimaginable disgust. How dare they refuse him. "As you wish." The Elder One waved his hand and used the orb to send a pulse of pure energy to fly at all the soldiers who dared to stand rather than kneel in his presence, sending them flying like feathers. Corypheus summoned hunger demons to attack and shred the blasphemous soldiers with their vile claws. The soldiers didn't stand a chance.

Sera and Harding's arrows flew like birds as they found their mark in each demon head she aimed at, while Cassandra's attacked them with vicious vigor. Blackwall charged in with his shield and heavy armor, clearing a path for the Bull's Chargers who came in screaming and swinging, knocking down and killing any demon in their path, and then carried the injured away. Vivienne, Dorian and Solas conjured their powerful spells to keep the demons at bay while the soldiers fell back. Rajmael came on to the field riding his white halla, the Sulevin Blade strapped to his back. Rajmael dismounted Neirin, and joined his companions on the battlefield.

The Inquisitor and the Elder One glared at one another with hatred and murderous desire in their hearts. Both had taken so much from one another, both fighting for their ideal world. At long last, everything they had fought for, all that they believed in, brought them to this moment. This Armageddon.

"I knew you would come." Corypheus addressed with malice dripping in his voice.

"It ends here, Corypheus!"

"And so it shall!" The blighted magister raised his claws skyward and drew on the power of the orb. The entire Temple of Sacred Ashes quaked and rumbled as Corypheus made the earth shake. Harding lost her footing and landed on her back, father then she expected. When she got back to her feet, the scout was nearly shocked to death to see the temple rising high over the highest peaks of the Frostback mountains. Suddenly, Harding felt very glad she fell when she did. Now she could do was hope and pray that they win.

It was no coincidence, no chance that Corypheus first chose this place to open the Breach. He would prove his godliness by destroying the most sacred place of the people's pathetic, misbegotten faith, prove that there truly was no Maker there to defend them, and that he was the only true divine power in this world. But then that miserable, thin-blooded vagabond from the forest dared to undo his work, with the lips of the masses praising him as a Herald of their dead prophetess. Now, he would finally avenge this heinous insult. Before all the eyes of the world, Corypheus would strike down this false herald in this derelict place of worship, proving every soul the true extent of his divine power. After today, there would be no other god but him.

"You have been most successful in foiling my plans. Truly, I didn't think anyone in this ailing, wretched world could have been so resourceful. But let us not forget what you truly are. A thief, in the wrong place at the wrong time. An interloper. A gnat that can barely comprehend the powers he toys with. We shall decided once and for all which of us is worthy of godhood."

Rajmael busted out laughing as if every word from Corypheus' tainted mouth was a funny joke. He laughed so hard so hard it almost hurt. The Inquisitor's companions thought he was crazy, while Corypheus grinded his grotesque teeth at such mockery. "Oh, poor, deluded, disease-ridden Corypheus. There are no gods. And you? You're jut a parasite pretending to be a predator."

The Elder One panted deep breaths of hatred and bared his teeth at his enemy. A deep, powerful growl filled the air, and a shadow cast over the ground as Corypheus' pet dragon crawled over the ruins behind his master, it's maw gaping hungrily and it's teeth dripping with tainted filth. Rajmael stood unafraid. The blighted dragon pounced down on the Inquisitor, intending to finally make a meal out of the insolent elf, only to be pounced on, right in mid-air, by another dragon!

Like her mother before her, Morrigan had assumed the form of a mighty High Dragon, the only creature that could match the unnatural beast that held Corypheus' life force. The two behemoths clawed and snapped their powerful teeth back and forth in flight. Both of them fighting for dominance in and blew their fiery breath at each other in a dance of death.

At the sight of another dragon fighting his thrall, Corypheus' already grotesque face twisted into a sour look of rage from this insult. "You dare. You dare invoke an image reserved only for the gods?! You shall pay dearly for this insult!"

Rajmael finally unstrapped the Sulevin, it's blade and rune glimmering like starlight in the darkness. "What do you plan to do, asshole? Talk me to death?"

"No. I will BURN you to death!" Corpheus screamed. Beams of crimson energy blasted from the magister's claws, Rajmael deflefted the beam like light of a mirror with the Sulevin, leaving not a scratch on the blade, but left Corypheus standing in anger. "Look at you! Wearing slave markings on your face with pride. You are nothing! Your whole race is nothing! Thin-blooded descendents of slaves and sniveling cowards that shrank before the might of Tevinter!"

"If that's true, why are you so desperate to steal my people's legacy?! Without our power, you have nothing. You would be nothing!" Rajmael accused, pointing at the orb Corypheus carried.

"SILENCE!" Corypheus demanded, frothing with rage, the truth deeply wounding him. "I will prove my divinity! Watch as I conjure followers from the very air!"

The orb blazed with power, green lightning crackling from it, and powerful demons of Pride, an Arcane Horror and a Revenant were summoned out of thin air. These were some of the most powerful creatures in the demon hierarchy. This would be a tough fight.

"Everyone! Take care of the pets." Rajmael ordered. "I'm going after the master."

"It's only the fate of the world at stake, Inquisitor. We can handle this." Dorian assured.

"Just remember to leave some of that guy for us." Iron Bull laughed.

"He will not hurt anyone else after today." Cole spoke confidently.

"Alright, Bianca. Let's show this prick why escaping that damned prison was the biggest damned mistake he ever made." Varric chuckled to his crossbow.

"Don't worry about us. Just focus on cutting that bastards head off." Blackwall encouraged.

"Go, Rajmael. This is what you were meant to do." Cassandra urged confidently. "And please, be careful, my love."

"Inquisitor, take care." Solas instructed urgently. "He draws even more power from the orb, but he can only use so much. When he has exhausted the power he summoned, that is when he'll be most vulnerable."

With his companions' encouragement and Solas' wisdom, Rajmael held the Sulevin tightly in his grip, felt it's ancient magic stirring and empowering him. His Shimmering Shield activated, his aura blazed with white magic and he flew like a comet over to his adversary. All the years of training, hardship and pain had brought him to this moment. He would not falter now.

Rajmael was dwarfed by the towering magister. His sickly aura and vile magic permeated the very air with the taint. Corypheus summoned the elements of fire, ice, lightning down on the Inquisitor. He even conjured lesser demons to cut the insolent elf down where he stood. Each spell and summons's power was greatly enhanced by the orb.

The Inquisitor deflected each fireball, lightning bolt and ice-spike with mind-defying accuracy, the enchantments of the Sulevin held greatly against the attacks. The edge of his sword cut through each demon like it was carving a turkey. At long last, Rajmael finally understood why his brother coveted the Sulevin so much. Why Nethras was willing to risk so much even for the sword's shattered remains. The power of this weapon alone was enough to turn the tide of any battle. But in the hands of an Arcane Warrior, it's magic increasing his already formidable power, made him strong enough to challenge a god.

Rajmael brought his legendary sword down on Corypheus with enough power to knock off a giant's head. The Elder One used his claw to summon a powerful barrier to block the attack in mid-swing. The magic from these two awesome mages clashed with such power, it ignited the air with positive and negative energies. Both of them summoned their wills to push back the other.

Rajmael began to get the upper hand in this deadlock they were in. His sword was managing to push through Corypheus' barrier. If he could smash through this spell, he might be able to land a fatal blow on him. Sensing his spell beginning to weaken, Corpheus drew on the power of the orb to enhance his magic. His barrier became stronger and began radiating a wave of heat intense enough to rival a dwarven forge. Corypheus' barrier strength kept building and pushing the Inquisitor back, until it finally exploded in a ball of red energy that left a crater where they stood and sent the Inquisitor flying over the edge of the floating island they stood on. Rajmael didn't even have time to yell as he hurdled over the edge!

Corypheus laughed triumphantly at the sight of that pretentious knife-ear being tossed over the edge of the island like the piece of garbage that he was before turning his sight on those miserable companions of his, who were still fighting the demons he summoned. He would kill them just as easily as he killed their precious Herald. And once they were all dead beneath his heels, this world would finally...

"AAARGH!" Corypheus screamed in agony when he felt a searing pain dig straight into his neck and the some massive amount of weight pulling on him. Like an anchor had grabbed hold of him and was trying to drag him back.

Rajmael had Nethras' bora'nan on him, used the chained sickle to grab Corypheus like a fish on a hook, and yanked himself back on to the island. The sickle end of the weapon was buried deep into Corypheus' neck, making ropes of blood spurt out. Their fight was far from over.

"I'm not finished with you yet, freak!" Rajmael yanked the bora'nan to pull Corypheus back towards him, then activated his magic, sending a powerful current of lightning up the chain that fried Corypheus' head like a pumpkin over a fire. The darkspawn magister screamed an unearthly screech in pain and anger.

Corypheus grabbed hold of the chain that was currently lodged to him by the sickle lodged in his vertebrae, and yanked the Inquisitor over to him like a fish on a line. Rajmael had forgotten his enemy's insane strength and went flying through the air like he weighed nothing at all straight to Corypheus. The Elder One held forth his hand like a spear at the Inquisitor, aiming to impale him like a stuck pig on his bare hand.

Rajmael phased through Corypheus' massive claw like a ghost and landed right behind him. He slashed the Sulevin at his enemy, Corypheus caught the blade in his claw, a feat that shocked Rajmael. Corypheus conjured a ball of red energy in the palm of his free claw and slammed it into Rajmael's chest, and sent him flying through the air. It felt like a typhoon was trying to bore its way into Rajmael's sternum and it burned with the heat of a crucible, if it wasn't for his Shimmering Shield protecting him, the attack would have tore him to pieces. The sheer power of this attack actually managed to finally shatter Rajmael's magic shield. Rajmael concentrated his will and tried to hold the sphere back and keep it from ripping into him. His managed to push away from him and hurl it into the sky, where it exploded into a storm of lightning and fire, and left behind a new circular shaped burn scar on his chest. Any other mage, and that spell would have minced then burned them into a pile of burnt chunks of meat.

Corypheus held the orb in his hand, clenching it as though he wanted to squeeze blood out of it. Four powerful beams of magic shot to the ground, and from them emerged four construct beings of fire, earth, ice and lightning, and each carried a grisly sword made of their own element. Corypheus' cracked lips curled into a sick smile while he maintained this spell with the orb. He had promised that he would conjure followers from the very air. Rajmael's eyes almost bugged out of his head, never before had he seen or even heard of such a spell. What other kind of magic was the Orb of Destruction capable of?

The four elementals flew at Rajmael with alarming speed, aiming to skewer the elf on their magical points. Rajmael dodged each one so narrowly that they cut a new whole in his coat, but they didn't stop. They pursued and engaged Rajmael with relentless fury. The swords may have been constructed of magic, but they felt and struck like real swords, and the damage the could do was great.

The Inquisitor blocked and parried each elemental blade, but had no room to attack. Each elemental moved with the skill of elite swordsmen, like he was dueling four opponents at once. Rajmael hadn't fought anyone od such high caliber since his duel with Nethras. Trying to block and evade at the same time was difficult; every time he blocked one and dodged another, two were able to get a deep cut on him. He was being burned, electrocuted, frozen and stoned all at the same time. If it wasn't for his ability to heal himself, he would certainly be bleeding to death right now, much less stand and fight.

Rajmael was using too much mana to continuously heal the wounds they were inflicting on him, he wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer. Rajmael blocked the ice-swordsman and kicked the lightning one away from him, but the stone elemental was able to get a terrible cut in on him right on his forehead. Rajmael dashed away from his enemies to try and recover the cut. His wound bled profoundly, causing blood to fall into his eyes, blinding him. And he didn't have enough mana left to heal it. He couldn't see anything.

The flame elemental tried to take advantage of the Inquisitor's blindness and began hurling dragon-sized fireballs at him. If these creatures could be surprised, they would certainly have been shocked to see the Inquisitor nimbly dodge each fireball with acrobatic precision. Throughout the years of grueling training that Rajmael endured to master the way of the Arcane Warrior, he also trained himself to fight blind. But the construct swordsmen were not surprised, and three of them ran to attacj their enemy while the flame elemental continued to hurl fire at him.

Rajmael was running on his last reserves of mana, and was no longer able to heal himself. He needed to step up his game, otherwise he'd be impaled or incinerated. Needed to time this just right.

Rajmael felt the next fireball coming from in on his flank. He torqued his whole body around and caught it on the Sulevin's edge, then redirected the massive ball of flame into the swordsmen made of stone. The earth elemental exploded like one of Varric's grenades, its shrapnel flying everywhere. The flame elemental lunged at him with its burning sword like lance, then began swinging its massive burning sword with all the restraint and discipline of a forest fire. All fury and no control. Rajmael glanced the fire creature's blade of his, redirecting it away from him and exposing its flank. Rajmael finished the elemental with a powerful flourish to its blindside that snuffed the thing like a candle.

The Inquisitor deftly dodged and parried the sword strikes of the two remaining constructs. Both the ice and lightning elementals tried to deliver a killing blow simultaneously, their swords glaring with their respective elements. Rajmael blocked the ice-blade with the Sulevin in his right hand, but let the lightning elemental run him through with its sword. Corypheus thought his victory was at hand, but his sadistic joy was cut short when he realized that the lightning elemental was somehow dying instead. It fell to it constructed knees and was growing weaker, like something was draining it of power. How was this happening?

What Corypheus didn't know was that Rajmael's magic had a natural affinity to lightning, and all this elemental did was give him another weapon to use. He absorbed the power of the construct's sword that was stabbing him, like a natural lightning rod. Rajmael stabbed the Sulevin into the ice elemental's midsection, and used the power of the lightning he charged into the Sulevin to make it exploded into wet icicles.

One of the most important techniques to the discipline to the Arcane Warrior, was being able to absorb energy from other magical sources in order to replenish their own mana. And this lightning elemental was feeding his mana like how coal feeds a furnace. The thing struggled and tried to break free, but it was useless. Rajmael's own magic reserves were now overflowing with power and used the newly found mana to heal his wounds. With the electric construct no longer serving any purpose to him, Rajmael ran it through with his sword and burned it away with veilfire until it blew up like a miniature firecracker.

Corypheus screamed in anger and pain when the Orb of Destruction spat strong burst of energy back at him. He had used the orb's power to create those elemental's, and their destruction was causing the orb to lash back at him violently. The orb had taken so much out of him, Corypheus actually fell to his knees. He looked at the Inquisitor with all his hatred burning in his eyes with the intensity of the sun. He was the Elder One! And he would not let some miscreant, elven vagabond see him thus. But he could not even bring himself to stand back up, his orb was taking too much from him.

Rajmael looked at Corypheus with his sword ready, and finally realized why his enemy needed the orb: because his own magic was obsolete. Never before had the ancient Magister faced an Arcane Warrior of the elven people, and his underestimation of the elves, of all people, was a weakness. Now Rajmael understood why Hawke was able to kill Corypheus. As powerful as this Magisters was, being one of the seven who broke into the Fade, his magic was archaic, outdated. The art and practice of magic had progressed and evolved since Corypheus' time. While he magic was very powerful, Corypheus' skill had not progressed from the dark period that he first walked in. Corypheus was arrogant enough to believe that his magic needed no improvement, and that was his true weakness.

~XoXoXo~

While Rajmael battled Corypheus amongst the ruins, and Morrigan wrestled with the blighted dragon in the air in her own dragon form, the rest of them engaged the powerful demons that were summoned. These were some the most powerful demons in their class, but the companions of the Inquisitor had killed scores of them throughout their entire time with the Inquisition. They would not falter to the likes of Corypheus' lackeys, demonic or otherwise.

The demon of Pride lumbered over them like an ogre, launching massive spheres of electric energy at them. In any tactical situation, it was always better to take out the largest opponent first, so that they would have more room to maneuver and take out their other targets. A crazy thought went through the Iron Bull's mind. It was really risky and insanely stupid, but it was undoubtedly awesome too.

"Dorian, when you see the signal, light that thing up with everything you've got!"

"Signal? What signal?" Dorian asked confused, and slightly afraid of how close that demon was getting.

The horn-headed oxman looked over to their residential Red Jenny with a wide grin on his face. "Hey, Sera! You remember that one thing you and I discussed that one time?"

Sera flinched at the very thought of it. "No. No, you're daft. I already said I ain't doin' it!"

"Sorry about this, Sera, but desperate times call for desperate measures." Iron Bull grabbed a firm hold of Sera, and using his oversized muscles, launched the scrawny elf in the air like he was tossing a disc right over the Pride Demon.

"FUUU-UUUCK!" The now airborne Sera screamed at the top of her lungs. Not letting her fear of heights get the better of her, Sera started launching arrows right into the big demon's eyes.

"I suppose that was the signal." Dorain guessed. He conjured a powerful glyph that spat out a swarm of fireballs at the Pride Demon and punched a series of holes into the creature's torso.

"MAAAYHEEEMMM!" Iron Bull bellowed like a maniac, charging the Pride Demon with his axe. With Sera distracting it with arrows from above, and those wounds Dorian inflicted on it, Bull had the perfect opening from below. With so many arrows in its eyes and face, and agony its torso was in, the creature didn't see what was coming. The Bull's axe chopped at the demon's leg like it was a tree trunk, and came crashing down like a felled oak. Sera smashed one of her fire vials on the demon, and burned it up like kindling, while Iron Bull chopped its skull into splinters.

"That was even more awesome than I thought it was going to be." Iron Bull sighed happily.

"Ah, yes. It's always wonderful to accomplish personal goals." Dorian chuckled.

"You realize you're sooo gonna get some bees later, right?!" Sera huffed angrily.

"Totally worth it."

~XoXoXo~

Arcane Horrors were extremely powerful Abominations. A Pride Demon that possessed the corpse of a mage. Corypheus lacked for neither demons, nor dead mages in his service. It possessed all the skills of the dead mage and the full might of its true demonic self, made this creature a foe even the most seasoned Templar could not face alone. Fortunately, Blackwall and wasn't alone, and he had two companions who were was an experts on both magic and demons.

The Arcane Horror cast a beam of green, destructive energy at the former knight. Blackwall held his shield firmly in front of him and the beams bounced off the shield's face. Good thing he had Dagna reinforce his shield with some strong protection enchantments.

"That's right, creature. Focus on the big lummox in the armor." Blackwall thought to himself. "Solas, any help now would be great!"

The elven apostate connected his will to the Veil to tear it open and create a small Rift that pulled the Arcane Horror backwards. If Solas could force it back into the Fade through this tiny Rift, the resulting conflict of planar energies would tear the Abomination apart. But the creature was resilient, it refused to be dragged back into the Fade and pushed itself forward. "Cole, now!"

The former Spirit of Compassion materialized out of the very shadows right in front of the Arcane Horror, and buried two daggers deep into his enemy's eyes. Cole jumped away while monster screeched in shrill agony and tried to pull the daggers out of its own skull, not realizing that when Cole jumped off it, he planted several bombs on its chest. The bombs exploded into a ball of fire and sent the Arcane Horror flying backwards. Now the Rift Solas made was successfully dragging it back. The Arcane Horror screamed viciously, clawed at the dirt in a vain attempt to keep itself from being dragged into the Rift.

Then the Arcane Horror disappeared away from the Rift. It teleported to a nearby ledge overlooking them, it's gouged out eyes glaring at them while its blown off jaw dangling from a shred of flesh on its rotted skull. It charged its powerful magic and cast down beams of destructive energy on them once more.

"I think I made it angry." Cole guessed as he dodged the death-beams.

"Really? What gave you that impression?" Blackwall asked sarcastically, hiding behind his shield as the creature's attacks once again bounced off the face of his shield. "Solas, any other ideas?"

Solas set up a barrier to shield himself from the Arcane Horror. "I need to activate a nullification spell. Distract it with your shield and get me closer while Cole flanks him."

"Right. Send my ass into the fire first. That's what I'm here for." Blackwall grunted from behind his shield.

The Arcane Horror conjured another spell while Blackwall got ready to make his move. A massive, boulder sized fist came crashing down on the Arcane Horror. It smashed the Abomination into the ground, shattering it's body. Cole, Blackwall and Solas were stunned to see that Dorian used his powers as a Necromancer to resurrect that Demon of Pride and use it to bludgeon the Arcane Horror into a stain on the rocks before throwing its body off the island. The Tevinter mage stood there with that cocky grin on his face.

"Show off." Blackwall muttered.

~XoXoXo~

Cassandra narrowly parried the Revenant's impossibly long sword away from her. It flourished its unwieldy blade with impossible speed and dexterity. The sword was as long as the Revenant was tall, preventing Cassandra from getting close enough to fight it. And even if she could get past that infernal sword, there was still that massive round shield it carried. Then there was the magic this thing also wielded.

Revenants were some of the most powerful Abominations anyone could encounter. Cassandra had only faced a few in her years before the Inquisition, and most of the time, she fought alongside her fellow Seekers, and not everyone always survived those encounters. Revenants were a form of undead that were possessed by a very powerful demon, usually one of Pride or Desire. Their unnatural martial skills alone made them devastating opponents, but they were also capable of utilizing magic to assist their already powerful physical abilities. It was like the undead form of an Arcane Warrior.

Vivienne rained down a storm of icicles while Varric fired a volley of bolts at the Revenant flanks in an attempt to give Cassandra some cover fire. The Revenant blocked Varric's shots with its shield and deflected Vivienne's icicles with a wide arc of its sword. While it negated Varric and Vivienne's attacks, it left itself wide open for Cassandra. The Seeker charged the Revenant, her sword, Avenger, glaring brightly, and chopped off the undead creature's sword hand.

The Revenant screeched in furious agony at the sight of its own severed hand falling to the ground, its huge sword still clenched in its grip. The towering possessed corpse angrily backhanded the Seeker with its massive shield. Cassandra blocked the strike, but the Revenant was inhumanly strong, and sent her flying back at least ten feet.

Cassandra's ears were ringing and her vision was dazed, and the wind was knocked completely out of her. Through her blurred vision, she saw the now maimed undead creature stomping towards her with fury burning in those unholy eyes. It magically levitated that massive sword its off the ground, the severed hand still clutching it, and telepathically spun the sword like buzzsaw. It walked closer and closer, its sword spinning loudly as it cut the air, aiming to split the Seeker right in half. Cassandra didn't move, she couldn't move. Not yet. Just a little closer...

Cassandra dodged the spinning blade superbly, and stabbed her own sword into the ground. Channeling her will through the sword and into the ground they stood on, and all the lyrium within radius a ten foot radius within her reach burned into a white mist, nullifying all magic. With it's connection to the Fade weakened, it's magic negated, the spinning blade fell to the ground, and the Revenant was stunned.

"Vivienne, now!" Cassandra ordered.

"As if you had to say anything, dear." Vivienne said haughtily and activated the powerful ice glyph beneath the Revenant's mailed feet. The glyph became alive with light and froze the Revenant in a pillar of ice. In its anger, the undead horror walked straight into their perfectly laid trap.

But that alone was not enough to stop a creature as powerful as a Revenant. Within seconds it would break free of its icy trap.

"From Bianca with love, you sorry bastard." Varric laughed. He loaded his crossbow with several bombs that Bianca, the real Bianca, left for him when she came to Skyhold. They were lyrium bombs.

The bombs exploded into massive plumes of blue fire and white smoke, shattering the frozen Revenant to pieces. It's body and armor scattered all over the ground, then crumbled into dust. Revenants were powerful indeed, but they had faced even more powerful foes than that. And Cassandra hadn't come this far just to be stopped by another one of Corypheus' poorly summoned pets. Especially when the man she loved was fighting Corypheus by himself.

~XoXoXo~

Solas was right. The more power Corypheus drew from the Orb of Destruction, the more it took out of him. Rajmael had seen Corypheus sustain wounds that would be fatal to mere mortals back in Haven, even witnessed him resurrect himself back in the Temple of Mythal, yet walked away from such traumas like it meant nothing. Now, after their brief skirmish, as powerful as it was, Corypheus was now exhausted, gasping for breath. He had used too much of the Orb's power to raise the temple and duel with Rajmael, it was practically draining the life out of him. If a mere elf, a descendant of slaves, could bring a Magister and would-be god down so low, then he was no god at all. He could be slain.

Rajmael looked up to the sundered sky and watched Morrgian battling Corypheus' pet dragon high in the air. Despite being new to this form, Morrigan fought well, and was gaining the upper hand. She fly high above it, then dove back down, letting gravity increase her force, and tackled the tainted dragon with all her weight. Morrigan latched her dragon maw on her enemy's neck, tearing it's rancid flesh in her teeth, and smashed it up against the flying islands around them.

This was actually happening. They were winning. Corypheus was no god, nor could he ever hope to be one. That horrible future Rajmael saw would never come to pass. With Morrigan taking on that dragon in the air and his companions at his side, Rajmael readied to slay his enemy."

"It's time to end this, Corypheus." Rajmael snarled, Sulevin in hand.

"No...Not like this!" The Elder One denied. Once again, he summoned the power of the Orb. The ancient relic crackled unstably and a beam of destructive green energy of green fire and lightning spewed from it. Not at the Inquisitor, but at the witch who dared to take on the form reserved for the gods, and had the gall to fight an avatar of a true god.

Rajmael watched in horror as the spell from the orb hit Morrigan dead on in the sky. She roared in horrible agony and was paralyzed in midflight. Morrigan fell like a downed quail far from the sky and back down to the ground, leaving a huge crater where she landed. The witch revereted back to her human form, but Rajmael couldn't tell if she was alive or not.

A shrill roar split the air as Corypheus' dragon swooped down on all of them like a vulture on a dead carcass. They tried to scramble, but it was too late. It spewed balls of fire from its mouth with the intensity of a volcano. The force of the blast shattered the ground they stood on and all fell down to the lower valley where Morrigan had fallen.

Vivienne, Cole, Sera and Varric took the worst of the blast; Vivienne's entire left side had been burned to a cinder, making her once beautiful face look like a burnt ham. Sera was able to get far enough away from the massive fireball, but not from the rocks that flew from the impact like shrapnel and shot threw her body like arrowheads, making her bleed out slowly. Cole was sent flying over the edge from the impact, causing him to land on the broken rocks that fell there. The height of his fall caused his body to break on the rocks beneath him. He whimpered painfully, trying to crawl over to his injured companions and relieve their pain as best he can. And poor Varric...a boulder landed right on top of the dwarven rogue, breaking both his legs, turning his ribs into gravel and puncturing his lungs.

Varric the boulder that was pinning him down off and crawled over to his beloved crossbow. "Come on, Bianca. We...can still...pull this off." Varric coughed between words, trying to hack the blood out of his lungs. "Could...really use Hawke right about now."

"You're not dying yet, dwarf." Dorian promised, desperately trying to cast a healing spell strong enough to heal his comrades. The Tevinter mage was so focused on trying to heal them, he didn't notice how close the dragon was.

The tainted dragon stomped right behind Dorian and swiped at the wayward Tevinter with the back of its monstrous claw. Dorian was sent flying through the wall and smashed against the cliff wall with a sickening crunch.

"DORIAN!" Iron Bull screamed furiously. In a fit of rage that only a Qunari could posses, the massive oxeman blindly charged the vile high dragon.

"Bull, don't!" Solas warned, but it was too late. Iron Bull swung his axe at the dragon, trying to cleave its jaw, but the monster reared its head back and spewed a plume of fire down on him. Iron Bull's whole body was covered in a blanket of flame, screaming in more anger than agony.

Solas cast a frost spell on Iron Bull to douse the flames on his body, but the damage had been done. Iron Bull's body was now completely covered in third degree burns and barely breathing. Blackwall and Cassandra were still in fighting condition, Solas had to give them support then try to find a way to heal the others. Perhaps he could create another small rift and summon a meteor big enough to...

The tainted dragon sensed the elven apostate's intention and leapt upon him faster than a heartbeat. Solas had no time to even think his next move before the dragon snatched him up in its tainted maw. It bit down on the elf's body, impaling him on its spear-like teeth, then threw him away like a piece of garbage. Solas' body began bleeding out like a pierced wineskin.

Cassandra couldn't believe this was happening. This couldn't be happening! No. Now was not the time to panic. She had to maintain control. He brother was the best dragon slayer the Pentaghasts trained in generations, and he taught her all she knew. She had to take it down or immobilize it long enough to aid one of the mages and see if they could cast a spell strong enough to heal the others. All dragons had a weakness and this one was no different, no matter how powerful. There was a series of veins in every dragons' hind leg, and if it was cut, the dragon would bleed horribly and be immobilized.

The wretched creature hadn't noticed her yet. She quickly moved in from behind, remaining in its blind spot. Cassandra just needed to get close enough, and she could cut the damned things arteries. Cassandra went in for the kill, then...nothing. She couldn't move, she was paralyzed. What was happening!? Cassandra looked up to top of the ruined temple and saw Corypheus with his wretched claw held out, magic burning in his palm. Then she looked beneath her feet and saw the Corypheus cast some kind of paralysis glyph.

The corrupted dragon finally noticed Cassandra, death was burning in its hateful eyes. It reared back its immense tail and swung it at her with the force of a hurricane, aiming to turn the Seeker into a new stain on the ground. All Cassandra could do was wait for the strike to come.

"Seeker!" Blackwall yelled. He dived to her side and shoved her out of the way of the dragon's death blow. Blackwall took the full force of the dragon's attack himself and was sent flying across the battlefield like a stone skipping on water. His heavy plate armor shattered and almost bone in his body broke every time he skipped off the ground until he crashed into the wall.

Cassandra used her Seeker abilities to negate the lingering effects of the paralysis spell Corypheus used on her. She was know the only warrior left standing. She could still follow through with her plan. She picked up her sword and charged the fucking dragon's hind leg again. She had to try...

Burning pain shot through Cassandra's abdomen, and bits her armor were sent flying right off of her. Corypheus had shot her from behind with a beam of red energy. Cassandra fell to her knees clutching her chest, he strength completely leaving her. She didn't feel any pain, she couldn't feel anything. Nothing but cold as her lifeblood was slowly flooding out of her wounds and drenching her armor. The dragon raised it's head to the sky and gave a triumphant roar that shook the very air. Cassandra looked around and saw all her friends and comrades were dying around her, and she couldn't save them. Her breath became shallow and her eyes heavy, she could feel her life slipping away. With one last prayer on her lips, she closed her eyes and prepared to greet the Maker...

"GARAS HANIN, MA FALONEN!"

Those words resonated more powerfully than the corrupted dragon's war cry, and as they echoed through the air, a miraculous thing happened. Cassandra felt life returning to her whole being, her wounds began to heal and her strength was renewed. What was happening? She The Seeker looked around her and saw her comrades, and all of the injuries they had suffered were healing. Iron Bull and Vivienne's burns were disappearing, and all of their bodies mended like they hadn't suffered at all. They were all surrounded by an aura like glimmering starlight that ways not only healing them, but giving them new strength. Cassandra recognized that aura: it was Rajmael's Shimmering Shield.

Rajmael stood on a far off outcropping overlooking the valley where his companions were boxed in with that damned dragon, and watched helplessly as it descended on them. It all happened so fast he couldn't react in time, and now they were all dying. He knew a spell, one of the most powerful ones he knew, and one of the most secret techniques of the Dirth'ena Enasalin. Ariva taught it to him, and told him to never use it unless the need was absolutely dire. Rajmael could see no more dire need than right now.

He stabbed the Sulevin into the ground and recited the ancient words and activated a powerful glyph beneath his feet. This was one of the oldest spells the elves had, and very few of them knew it, and it required Halam'shivanas, the Sweet Sacrifice of Duty. Glyphs appeared beneath his fallen comrades, their life force connecting with his mana, and he bestowed all his healing powers to them. His Shimmering Shield surrounded them, giving them new strength and healing all their wounds.

While this spell was powerful, it was also dangerous. As his companions grew stronger, Rajmael's own mana became weaker. All the wounds he sustained in his fight with the elementals began to reopen, painfully. Blood began to fall back into his eyes from the cut he suffered on his forehead, and the stab wound he received from the lightning elemental opened up into a bleeding hole right in his rib cage while his left rib cage was completely shattered. His left shoulder was dislocated and his right forearm was cut straight down to the bone. Rajmael's whole body was wracked with horrible agony with his blood seeping out of every wound he had and making a puddle at his feet, but he couldn't stop now. He must finish the spell. He would not let his companions die here.

Rajmael finally fell to his knees, all his mana completely drained. His body was now an open wound from all the cuts and injuries he suffered. He was in too much pain to even scream. Rajmael hacked blood out of his mouth and weakly tried to keep his grip on his sword. He had never used so much mana in his life, and was about to lose consciousness from blood loss.

"A foolish endeavor, Herald." Corypheus' resonating voice mocked from the top of the temple. "True gods know when to sacrifice their followers. And with your end, my godhood begins." Corypheus pointed his malevolent claw at his enemy, and the corrupted dragon obeyed his master's will.

The beast leapt over to where Rajmael was kneeling, and towered over the Inquisitor menacingly, it's shadow completely veiling him. It looked down on the bleeding, pretentious elf with murder in its eyes and licked it's lips with it forked, malignant tongue. The dragon would finally finish what it started with Have, and this time, there would be no mountain to save him.

"Rajmael!" Cassandra cried, desperately running over to him, hoping to somehow stop the dragon.

"We're coming, Boss!" Iron Bull hollered, trying to convince himself they'd make it.

"No, no. This can't happen. We have to help him!" Cole said.

"Hey! Over here you taint-ridden piece of shit!" Blackwall yelled, hoping to get the beast's attention.

"Come on, asshole! You like picking on smaller guys? Well, why don't you pick on me!? I'm smaller!" Varric screamed also trying to grab the dragon's attention.

"Scaly, shit-faced, town-eating, snot-slurping, piss-bag!" Sera cursed with every arrow she shot, trying to make each one count.

"Vivienne, Dorian, we must try to draw the beasts attention." Solas ordered, and for the first time, neither of the human mages stopped to question him. All three of the mages held their staves and charged their magic. Each of them sent a barrage of powerful offensive spells of ice, fire and spirit energy at the damned dragon.

The corrupted dragon took the magical assault like rain sliding off its scales. It beat it powerful wings, kicking up the wind like it was nothing, and sent a very strong gale that sent the Inquisitor's companions flying backwards. No one would interrupt this divine judgment. The dragon reared back its gargantuan head and breathed a mighty gust of wind into its lungs. The sound of a forest fire churned deep inside its gut.

The Seeker watched in horror and fearful tears filled her eyes. She knew what was coming and could do nothing to stop it. For the second time in her life, Cassandra could do nothing but watch in terror as the man she loved was to be slain right in front of her eyes, and the Maker wasn't there to stop it. Corypheus looked on with bated, anticipated breath and twisted glee in his eyes. At long last this would be over, he would finally be rid of this false Herald.

"RAJMAEL!" Cassandra's desperate scream was the last thing he heard.

A single tear fell from Rajmael's eyes. Not one of fear or pain, but of deep regret. "Eva...I'm so sorry."

The corrupted dragon spewed a column of red and black fire from its rancid maw. Once again, Rajmael was consumed by fire and agony, and his entire world went completely dark. His companions looked on in horror while Corypheus' sinister laughter filled the entire ruin at the sight of the Inquisitor's death.

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael was in a world of gentle white mist. Where was he? Was he dead? Was this the path to the Beyond? Where was Falon'din, the guide to the elven dead? Rajmael had hoped he would be proven wrong about the elven gods, but it seemed that even in death, the Creators were nowhere to be found. Typical. He was so disappointed in life, why shouldn't he be in death?

The mist parted and revealed what looked like a pathway meant to lead him away. Perhaps this was the path to the afterlife? Rajmael was a little scared. How could he know what was on the end of this path? What would be waiting for him there? Peace or pain? Judgment or reward? Only one way to find out. He took but a single step and felt something grab him by the shoulder.

Rajmael turned to see someone he thought he had forgotten. A face he hadn't seen in so long, yet knew so well. "F-father?"

Dairren Yonwyn, Rajmael's blood-father, looked upon his son with the love and pride only a father could have for his son. "It's not time for you to walk that path yet, my son. You still have much to do." Rajmael's father took his son by the shoulder and guided him through the mist and away from the path that was set before him.

"I...I don't understand." Rajmael whispered, his voice shaky.

"Someday you will." Dairren assured his son warmly. "But now is not the time, you got people waiting for you. Let's not keep them waiting. And know that there is no father alive that could have more pride in his son than I do in you. Being your father was the best thing that ever happened to me, and the greatest thing I ever did in life." Dairren urged his son forward, and waved him goodbye while disappearing back into the mist.

No sooner had Rajmael left his father behind he saw the silhouette of another person he hadn't seen in so long. This time, the tears really did fall from his eyes: it was his real mother, Renalle.

Renalle wept tears of joy at the sight of her son. For the first time in decades she kissed her son's face and held him close to her, and Rajmael hugged her back, his own tears staining his face.

"M-Mama?" Rajmael cried.

"Oh, my little Rajmael. My beautiful Rajmael has grown into such a fine man. I'm so proud of you." Renalle wept. "I've dreamed of the day that I could see you again. But it's not time yet. You still have a ways to go. You still have so much to give the world. Go now, and now that your father and I love you with all our hearts."

"I...love you too, Mama." His mother pulled him further away from the path and waved him a tearful farewell before disappearing back into the mist.

Rajmael's step became more alive the further he walked. The further he walked away from the path, the dimmer this world became. Was this truly the path between life and death, or were these simply spirits pretending to be those he loved and lost? Soon he came across another figure, and this one he recognized but could hardly believe.

"Junnarel?" Rajmael gasped in disbelief. It was him, yet at the same time it wasn't. This was not the shriveled husk of a man who had been poisoned by red lyrium that Rajmael watched die. No. This man stood tall and proud, with all the might and bearing of a true Dalish hunter. This was the Junnarel that Rajmael remembered, the man who raised him as his second son.

"Welcome, Rajmael." Junnarel greeted with that big smile of his. His voice was so strong and clear, not distorted and weak like before.

"I don't understand." Rajmael confessed. "Are you truly the spirits of my family? Or are you just more pretenders seeking to lead me astray?"

Junnarel placed his strong hand on Rajmael's shoulder and continued to walk with him. "I know that your faith has been shaken, da'len. It is always difficult to maintain faith when the gods have always failed us. But our people are still waiting for a sign of change, something to guide us to a better life. And they found that in you, Rajmael. Don't lose faith in our people, our culture, our spirit. None have fought more bravely for our people than you, my son. Go now, know that you carry the strength of our people with you."

The realm grew darker as Rajmael continued his walk. It was like walking in a realm of twilight. His steps were not as heavy as when he arrived; the words of his family was lifting his spirit. Until he came across the next phantom. The very visage of the man standing before him made Rajmael's heart cringe inside his chest. It was his brother, Nethras.

"Andaran atish'an, Little Brother." Nethras smiled. The jagged scar that trailed down the left side of his face was gone, and he no longer wore the vallaslin that honored Elgar'nan, but was now wearing the mark of Andruil, the vallaslin that her grew up with. It was like all traces of his time as Vir Banal'ras was gone. Nethras didn't greet Rajmael as an enemy, but welcomed him as a brother.

Rajmael stood with his mouth agape. Once again, Nethras stood before him after he was supposed to die. But Rajmael knew he was dead, he killed his brother with his own hand. An act that still tormented Rajmael's soul.

"Well, that's a fine hello, Rajmael." Nethras chuckled. "You could at least say something, instead of standing there like an idiot. You remember what our mother used to say? That if we stand with our mouths open, a bird would fly in and poop in it?"

Rajmael finally shook himself awake and tried to get the words to stumble out of his mouth. "Nethras...I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." Nethras said sternly. "I chose my path, just as you did. We dueled, you won, and it was an honor. You acted with honor even when I cursed you as a traitor, but I was wrong. You got this world back on its feet even when everyone was spitting on you as a heathen. I meant what I said back in Nehn'numinas: I was always proud to call you my brother." Nethras pointed forward, urging him to keep going. "You represent all that is great in our people. Now go show this magister what the true strength of the elves is."

Rajmael did as his brother bade, that sense of guilt he felt washed away.

"Rajmael!" Nethras called back sorrowfully. "I...know I don't have the right to ask you this, but...will you tell Eva that I'm sorry I couldn't be a father to her? Would you tell her I love her?"

Rajmael looked back to Nethras. "I would be honored, Nethras. And thanks for the sword."

"You'll do more with the Sulevin than I ever could. Dareth shiral, my brother."

The world became as dark as midnight, but Rajmael kept walking forward. He didn't know if any of this was real, but the guilt he once carried like a heavy burden on his back was gone. His footsteps were no longer so heavy. Now he could see something up ahead. A spark of light in all this darkness. Was this the destination he was meant to go to?

There was one last figure waiting for him. The silhouette of a person as familiar as his own heartbeat. Rajmael didn't even need to see that face to know who it was. It was someone he could never forget, someone he never thought he'd see again.

"Evanura?" Rajmael's voice was barely audible with disbelief. This wasn't some random spirit posing as her, this was truly the first woman he fell in love with.

"Andaran atish'an, lethallin." Evanura greeted with her beautiful voice. Evanura's beauty shined like a torch in all this darkness. Her platinum blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her eyes beautiful, deep green eyes shimmered like two perfect emeralds. The vallaslin on her slender face that honored Sylaise added to the exoticness of her beauty. Her delicate skin was like the first fallen snow of winter. Evanura was the very embodiment of elven beauty, and her daughter inherited every bit of it.

"Evanura...can you ever forgive me?" Rajmael wept. "Your death, it was all my fault. I took you away from Eva"

Evanura placed her soft hands on his face and looked at him with, her own eyes filled with tears. "There's nothing to forgive, lethallin. You have more than repaid any debt you felt you owed me by adopting and raising my baby."

"Eva is my whole world, Evanura." Rajmael confessed.

"And now you have someone new in your life, a woman to love and people to protect." Evanura spoke gently. "You have done so much for our people, for the whole world. You make us all so proud."

"I am...only what you all taught me to be." Rajmael said. At this moment, he felt all the weight and burden of all the guilt and doubt he carried lifted off his shoulders. His spirit was so light, he felt he could soar.

"Now go. Do what you were born to do. Remind this world of the strength of the elvhen spirit." Evanura held her hand out to him, and Rajmael gently took it in his. "Fly...Rajmael."

~XoXoXo~

Corypheus' laughter died in his throat at the sight Rajmael flying out of the pillar of flame that the dragon spat down on him. A new wave of hope filled his companions as they watched the Inquisitor sail through the air at the corrupted dragon, the Sulevin held high over his head blazing with power. The wretched beast never saw it coming.

"ENASALIN!" Rajmael's war cry not only once again echoed throughout the entire Temple of Sacred Ashes, but throughout the entire Frostback Mountains. From Gherlen's Pass to the Frostback Basin, and seen all the way from Skyhold, the entire world felt the power of Rajmael's death blow. The Sulevin's blade burned like a column of white fire that burned hotter than any dragon's breath sliced through the corrupted dragon's serpentine neck. Waves of black blood erupted from the severed stump where the dragon's head used to be and completely drenched Rajmael in its vile ichor. The corrupted dragon's disgusting head and body landed on the ground with a resounding crash. The monster's headless corpse clawed and writhed as though it were in agony until the final torrents of blood spewed from it severed wound. Rajmael landed on the ground, completely covered in blood, but not a single wound on him.

An immense spark of black and red magic emerged from the dragon's rancid carcass like a parasite seeking a new host. And it found it's new host, or original one to be precise. The dragon's life force flew over to Corypheus and reentered his body, as welcomed and painful as a flesh-eating disease and filling him with rage. Corypheus' ability to die had returned.

"Let it end here! Let the skies boil, and the world be ripped asunder!" Corypheus roared in furious anguish. He held the Orb high in his claw, forcing the Breach to grow wider than ever before. If it continued, it would swallow the whole world. "If this world refuses to have a true god, then this world need not even exist!"

A flame of unstoppable resolve burned brightly in Rajmael's golden eyes. He held the Sulevin tightly in his grip and looked back to his companions. "Let's end this."

With their leader returned to them from the jaws of certain death, all traces of doubt, fear and uncertainty burned away. There was nothing that could stop them now. Even as the Breach grew larger, they knew there was nothing that could stand in there way. Corypheus was not a god. He was just a freak. A monster born of vile magic in a vile era. It was true that he was evil incarnate, but evil must always be purged. And Corypheus had postponed his judgment for far too long.

Rajmael led the charge to the top of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. And there he was. Corypheus. The Elder One. The Conductor of Silence. Just as real, malevolent and angry as he was when they first saw him at Haven. However, this time, there was none of them were afraid of him. They knew what he truly was. At every turn he made, every plot he schemed, they foiled him, proved him a failure.

In his foolish attempt to bring doom to the world, he once again used too much of the Orb of Destruction's power, greatly weakening himself in his fury. But now he was completely mortal. Now he had nothing. No Venatori fanatics to worship him. No Red Templars to throw at his enemies. And now, no dragon to grant him immortality. He now had nothing to protect him from the Inquisitor, and his very pissed off companions.

"Let's fuck his shit up!" Iron Bull yelled, charging the weakened magister.

"Nya-ha! Have a nice, hot serving of arrows, Coryphi-dick!" Sera giggled maniacally, firing shot after shot of flaming arrows at Corypheus.

"I hope you remember Bianca, asshole! Because she remembers you!" Varric yelled while firing more of those lyrium bomb grenades that the real Bianca left him.

Dorian conjured a powerful glyph that launched a swarm of fireballs at Corypheus. "Let's see you pull a dragon out of your ass this time."

Blackwall held his mace tightly in his fist, charged the powerful lightning of the ancient Avvar weapon. It crackled like a storm in his fist, and he hurled it at the creature who created the Blights. It exploded like rumbling thunder against Corypheus' body. "That was for Adamant, and all the Blights you created, you sick bastard."

"You've hurt so many people. You will never hurt anyone ever again!" Cole swore angrily as he expertly threw his daggers at Corypheus. He disappeared and darted around their enemy like a ghost, delivering deep cuts and gashes with his daggers in each hand.

"Time to send you back to oblivion, where filth like you belongs." Vivienne condemned. The Imperial Enchanter struck her staff to the ground and four glyphs materialized around Corypheus. Four massive icicles shot out of the glyphs and stabbed Corypheus on all sides.

"It's time to give back what you've stolen, Corypheus." Solas demanded. The elven apostate connected his magic with the Veil and tore open a small hole to the Fade. White swords of ethereal energy flew from the Fade and skewered Corypheus' body like needles pinning a moth.

"This is one is for Haven!" Cassandra snarled as she furiously stabbed her sword into the ground, concentrating all her willpower and strength to purge as much magic from Corypheus as possible. It was the strongest anti-magical assault she had ever done, enough to wipe out several Pride Demons. Corypheus was still far too powerful for that attack to kill him or even burn all his mana, but it made him discover the true meaning of pain. Cassandra charged the object of her hatred and buried her sword so deep into his abdomen it went straight through his back. "And that was for Divine Justinia."

Corypheus struck Cassandra away with his claw and ripped her sword out of his body. He was not finished yet. All their attacks did was make him even angrier. He conjured a wall of red magic that sent them all flying back. Corypheus grabbed the orb in both his hands and charged it for another powerful attack. An immense stream of destructive energy blasted from the orb with the intensity of the sun and came down upon the Inquisitor and his companion. "BURN YOU MISERABLE INSECTS!"

Rajmael stood right in front of the blast and blocked it with the Sulevin. Instead of killing the elf where he stood, the blast was redirected off the Sulevin's blade like a mirror and shot upwards like a pillar of energy straight towards the shattered heavens. Corypheus' attack failed again, and the orb had taken even more out of him. The Inquisitor's aura burned like a star, and he dashed at his enemy, lunging his sword like a lance to deliver the killing blow. The Sulevin went straight in Corypheus' chest and pierced his vile, black heart and twisted it.

Streams of black blood gushed out of Corypheus' grotesque mouth he staggered backwards in horrible agony when the Inquisitor yanked his sword out. Corypheus fell to his knees, desperately trying to reach the Orb of Destruction, the only thing he had left. Rajmael activated the Anchor in his palm, felt it finally begin to connect with the object that created it. Magical energy and lightning crackled from the unstably from the Orb when Corypheus made one last desperate attempt to use its power.

"NO! Not like this! I have walked the halls of the Golden City, tasted the secrets of life and death, crossed the ages." Corupheus cried desperately trying to make one last dire attempt to use the Orb's power. Magical energy spewed and crackled unstably from the ancient foci, the ancient magister had used too much of its power, it had nothing left to give him. Corypheus finally begged the only ones who could possibly aid him. "Dumat, Old Gods of the Imperium, I beseech you! If you exist, if you ever truly existed, aid me now!"

Rajmael used the power of the Anchor to summon the Orb to his hand, shattering Corypheus' jaw when it flew out of his grip. The Elder One fell to his knees in defeat. The Inquisitor raised the Orb to the sky, felt his whole being connect with this ancient relic of his people, and his will linked to the Breach. Rajmael looked down on his fallen enemy with vengeance in his eyes. Corypheus would be punished for eternity.

"You wanted into the Fade, Corypheus? I will grant your wish. And when you get there, tell them a knife-ear sent you." Rajmael condemned and used the Orb's magic to banish Corypheus to the farthest reach of the Fade and sealed the Breach behind him. This would be Corypheus' punishment, to trapped within the fade, lost in eternal silence. A fitting end for a madman who had the arrogance to claim divinity. The Breach and the Elder One were now gone from this world forever.

The Orb fell to the ground completely inert, too much of its power had been used. Without the Orb's magic to hold it up, the Temple of Sacred Ashes came crashing back down to the earth below. All of them fell to the floor and braced for impact. The floor broke apart beneath their feet and they all came crashing down.

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael woke up amongst the shattered ruins of what was left of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Not even recovered for a decade after being lost for a thousand years, and it was utterly destroyed. Rajmael was too tired and in too much pain to even let the irony register. The dust hadn't even settled yet, and Rajmael couldn't see any of his companions. Where were they? Rajmael dreaded the thought that after all this, he was the only survivor.

Rajmael spotted Solas nearby and felt a little relieved. The older elf was kneeling before the shattered remains of the Orb of Destruction. What was once a powerful, vibrant relic, was now as lifeless and cold as stone. He picked up the ruined pieces with pain on his face and the verge of tears. Rajmael could feel Solas' pain. Yet another irreplaceable piece of elvhen heritage abused and destroyed by selfish and ignorant human hands. What's more, that it was used to cause so much terror and destruction. All the things they could have done for their people if they had recovered it. The elves were poorer for its lost.

"Solas?" Rajmael beckoned.

"The Orb..." Solas wept, his tear falling on the ruined fragments.

"I know you wanted to save the Orb, hahren. I am so sorry." Rajmael said sympathetically. First the Well of Sorrows, now this. Was there nothing this world didn't take from their people?

"It is not your fault." Solas breathed, vainly trying to hid his heartbreak. He stood back to his feet and Rajmael saw a strange glint hidden behind his eyes. Like he was not finished but merely starting.

"There's more to this, isn't there?"

"It was never supposed to happen this way." Solas answered cryptically, hanging his head in shame. "No matter what comes next, Rajmael, you shall always have my respect. You truly represent all that is great in our people."

"Rajmael! Are you alive?!" Cassandra called hopefully.

The Inquisitor looked to the bottom of the ruined stairs to see all his companions there, alive and whole. Morrigan was limping towards him with the rest of them, but was completely unharmed. Dorian was doing his best to hold Iron Bull up, who was propped on his shoulder. Varric had the widest grin he ever had on his face, and Blackwall's bearded face beamed with pride. Cassandra's face was washed with joy to see the man she loved standing there, her smile was beautiful.

"Victorious, I see. And you've survived. What an ideal outcome." Morrigan spoke. While her voice may have had its trademark satirical tone, she was nonetheless extremely impressed with what they had accomplished.

"And the sky is healed. Healthy. Whole. Spirits no longer raging and confused." Cole said happily. "There is only that to remind us."

Cole pointed up to the sky. An aura borealis shimmered across the sky like a ripple of vibrant colors. A scar from where the sky was once wounded, a permanent reminder of how close this world came to annihilation.

"So...what now, Inquisitor?" Iron Bull asked eagerly.

Rajmael looked back up the stairs expecting to Solas, but he was nowhere to be found. Where was he? Why did he leave so quickly? He looked back to his companions with a smile on his face. "Now, we go back to Skyhold."

"Oh, I certainly hope so." Dorian sighed. "Maker knows I could certainly use a drink right about now."

"I'll be Ruffles will have one helluva party waiting for us when we get there." Varric laughed. "I hope you're all ready to be swarmed by hundreds of adoring fans."

Scout Harding and the other Inquisition soldier approached them. All of them beheld the Inquisitor and his party with looks of awe and disbelief. Harding stood there with proud, happy smile on her face. She never had a doubt in her mind that they would win.

Skyhold...

The Inquisitor and his companions received a hero's welcome when they walked through the gates of the keep. The whole of the Frostback Mountains echoed with the happy cries and laughter of all that had gathered here. Not since when Aedan Cousland slew the Archdemon Urthemiel in Denerim had so many celebrated so joyously. Never before in recorded history did so many pay give so much respect and reverence to an elf.

The Inquisitor walked up the steps to his keep amongst the cheering crowds, and saw his advisors standing there waiting for him. All three of the bowed smilingly to the man who saved the world, and he in turn bowed back to them. He knew full well that if it weren't for their council when he needed it and the skills they possessed that he lacked, he never would have gotten the Inquisition to where it is now. Rajmael looked down at the crowed of people cheering for him, humans, elves, dwarves, faithful and heathens alike, and was humbled by their joy and gratitude. Never in all his life could he have dreamed that he would be the bringer of so much joy. The Inquisitor's companions and advisors all made their way inside, it was time to enjoy the long awaited party.

"Inquisitor, a word?" Leliana asked requested. "My agents can find no trace of Solas. He's simply vanished. If he does not wish to be found, then I doubt we will find him, but I will keep looking."

"It doesn't make any sense." Rajmael conceded. "After choosing to stay and help us fight in all those terrible battles, why would he just up and leave after we attained victory?"

"I am told he was very upset about the loss of the Orb." Leliana reminded.

"No. It was more than just the Orb. Something must be wrong. Have your people keep searching, but remember: Solas is our friend, not an enemy."

"Understood." Leliana and Rajmael both walked into the keep to join in the festivities, and Leliana let her happy self come out. "With Corypheus defeated, we finally have a moment to stop and properly celebrate. Afterwards you will be busy. Even now, every noble in Southern Thedas are lining up to meet you."

"Oh, for the love of...What do they want from me now?" Rajmael groaned.

"You cannot be serious." Leliana giggled. "You have won, defeated the greatest threat in Thedas sense the last Blight. Now everyone wants to bask in your glory in the hopes that some of it will rub off on them. Empress Celene owes you her life as well as her throne, and Marquis Briala and the elves of Orlais owe you their future. A thousand problems remain, and your opinion be sought for each one, whether you want to or not."

"Oh, so you mean only after I've killed the bad guy, suffered innumerable traumas, was denied any real aid, and almost died more times than I've had breakfast, they decide that I'm important enough to meet with." Rajmael responded sarcastically.

"Alas, such is the way of politics." Leliana laughed. "Originally you were an upstart; a Dalish elf leading a band of rebels and heretics that the Chantry denounced. Until Corypheus revealed himself, no one could see what hand was moving behind all the chaos. One he did, they knew: a darkspawn and a magister all in one creature. The ultimate evil. You and the Inquisition are now the only power left standing."

That last sentence actually scared Rajmael. He didn't join the Inquisition for power's sake, but now he wielded more power than the empress. A frightening prospect.

"Enjoy the festivities while you can, Inquisitor. Maker knows you've earned it." Leliana bade and walked off to go follow her own advice.

Rajmael decided to put off the mystery of Solas' departure and forget about the upcoming problems of the world, and enjoy the party. Leliana was right, he earned it, they all did. Tragedy and destruction brought them all together. Their mission kept them together. Now, they can all celebrate together. Dorian and Iron Bull were having drinks together, chatting it up like there was no tomorrow, without the taboos of the Qun or Imperium overshadowing them.

Blackwall and Cullen stood quietly by the fireplace, mugs in hand. Neither of them were much for pomp and ceremony, but both of them were veteran soldiers who fought for terrible causes that took its toll on their lives. Cullen with his years serving under Knight-Commander Meredith, and Blackwall with the crimes he committed as Thom Ranier. Both of them found resolution and redemption in following the Inquisition. Now they could have a couple drinks and relax without having to worry about the world falling to pieces.

"Now, I shit you not, I thought for sure the Inquisitor was done for. Then the Inquisitor flies right out of that pillar of colored fire screaming 'Enasalin' at top of his lungs, not a scratch on him, and he knocked that dragon's head right off in one clean strike. Corypheus and the dragon never saw it coming!" For this first time since joining the Inquisition, was doing what he did best: bragging about other people's exploits while throwing a healthy load of bullshit in there. A group of wide-eyed soldiers and labormen hung on his every word with bated breath. It was good to finally see Varric in his natural element: a mug clenched in his hand with Bianca on the table, and a bunch of eager listeners actually believing what he said.

Cole wasn't amongst the various people who were gathering around Varric to listen to him talk. Instead, the former Spirit of Compassion was sitting in front of the lady bard of the Inquisition's tavern, Maryden. She was singing a song of victory that she had composed for this day. And while it certainly seemed that Cole enjoyed the song, it was painfully obvious that he enjoyed watching Maryden even more. The young bard winked at Cole, making him blush like a ripe tomato and hid his face bashfully beneath his hat. Maryden laughed at Cole's adorability and continued her song, if only to coax Cole's face out from under that hat of his.

Rajmael was very surprised to see Morrigan and Leliana actually talking with each other, and even sharing a drink. Under any other circumstances, he would have thought the world was indeed coming to an end. These two dangerous and powerful women had more in common then they would care to admit. Both women of strong conviction. And both of them had aided and contributed to a cause that saved the world from total annihilation. Once during the Blight, and now again with Corypheus. Now was not the time for their old grudges, but a time to celebrate and be thankful for what they had.

Sera sat at the banquet table with a whole duck, a honeyed ham, a plate of baked shrimp, three different pies, and six tall mugs of beer. Where the hell did she pack all that? In between mouthfuls of food and loud belching, the Red Jenny laughed it up with the kitchen servants and exchanged dirty jokes about pompous nobles and who she shot Corypheus in the crotch. Her language was as humorous as it was colorful. She never had a care when Corypheus was alive, she certainly had none now.

Vivienne surrounded her with the nobility and gentry that had attended the celebration. They laughed, sipped their wine and talked about how the Inquisitor slew Corypheus. Vivienne gave an ample, vivid description like she could paint a picture with words. The nobles gasped and shuddered like frightened children what the Inquisitor fought against, and lauded Madame de Fer's courage and fortitude to stand with the Herald of Andraste and what he endured. Surely she must have the courage and fortitude of the stongest Chevaliers to stand with the Andraste's blessed chosen through such ordeals. Even now, be it magic or the nobility, Vivienne was capable of bending powerful forces to her will.

Even in the midst of celebration and revelry, Josephine was still unable to stop nit-picking and fussing over every detail. Did they have enough wine? Did the caterers bring enough cakes? Will they have enough pies if Sera keeps eating them like this? Leliana finally convinced her old friend to put her clipboard down and join her for a drink, and after a few glasses, the Ambassador finally allowed herself to relax. Josephine and Leliana talked and laughed as good friends always do. And for the first time, Josephine shed her ladylike demeanor and allowed herself to brag about their accomplishments and bask in pride at what they accomplished. They might never have another chance to celebrate like this again, and Josephine wanted to savor it not as an ambassador, but as a valued friend.

Scout Harding sat at the table with a mug in her hands, shifting anxiously in her seat. On her left was a very tipsy Siobhan, all the wine she was consuming was stripping her of what few inhibitions she had. On her right, was Captain Isabella. The Rivaini pirate was intentionally leaning over and showing off her generous cleavage to the redheaded scout. Harding wasn't sure how much more of this she could take, or even what she should do. But maybe after a few more mugs of liquid courage, she'd think something. This was a night to remember, and Maker help her, she was gonna make some memories.

The festivities went on through the night, and Rajmael had no doubt that they would continue on well past morning. He would have loved to stay with them and partied until he puked, but after defeating a would-be god, and having a life-after-death experience, all he wanted right now was some peace and quiet, maybe a nap. So he decided to head to his room. All his companions and friends raised their glasses and toasted him as he left the hall.

"Leaving so soon, Rajmael?" Cassandra asked. "Do you mind if I join you."

"There's no one I'd rather be with right now, ma vhenan." Rajmael smiled.

The two lovers walked hand in hand to Rajmael's balcony and watched the sun rise together. After everything he had been through, he wanted to be nowhere else but with her.

"Everything is about to change." Cassandra sighed worriedly. "You'll be drawn into a hundred different directions in the months to come. You'll...be taken from me."

"Cassandra?" Rajmael asked concerned.

"It's nothing...it's just that..." Cassandra wrapped her arms around Rajmael and buried her face into his chest. "When that dragon's fire consumed you, I thought you were dead. I felt my heart stop inside my chest and I wished that I had died with you. And then, you came back to me. Sometimes the Maker is kind."

Rajmael held Cassandra's face in his hands and wiped the joyful tear from her cheek. "I came back because I had someone to come back to. I've already lost people that I loved, I wasn't going to let myself be taken from you and Eva. You mean everything to me."

Cassandra held Rajmael's hand to her face, feeling his warmth spread through her whole being. "I know you are not a believer, but the Maker brought you into my life, and I have never known joy like I feel with you. Thank you for giving me your heart, my love."

"I love you, Cassandra. With all my heart." Those were all the words he needed to say. The two lovers from different races and backgrounds embraced in a passionate kiss filled with all the love they had for one another. Both of them had lost so much, yet found so much in each other. Corypheus was no more, and tomorrow's problems could wait. Right now, all that mattered was that he was the man she loved, and she was the woman he gave his heart to. There was nothing else they wanted to be.

~Epilogue~

The World:

While Corypheus had been defeated and banished forever beyond the farthest reaches of the Fade, his influence would be felt for years to come. The sky had been permanently scarred by his almost successful attempts to make himself a god over this world. The living would forever be scarred by the memory of the Elder One, and those memories would haunt this world for generations to come. Pockets of the Venatori survived their master's death and retreated into hiding throughout the world. They would continue to worship The Elder One and attempt to inflict chaos in the name of their master. In a twisted way, Corypheus got his wish and attained godhood.

However, the people would remember the Inquisition even more. How an upstart group of rebels banned together to stand up to the ultimate evil, and struck him down. The scarred sky would forever remind the people that the greater the darkness, the stronger the light. The Inquisition would inspire many great heroes for ages to come. In trying to destroy the world, Corypheus helped inspire something even greater that he could never imagine: Hope.

The red lyrium would remain a continuing threat on the world that became hard to eradicate. Many would make vain attempts to harness or weaponize it with disastrous results. While the Inquisition did its best to destroy the red lyrium, there was no end of fools who wished to recreate the Elder One's use of red lyrium. There were even rumors that Orzammar wished to recreate it as a weapon against the darkspawn.

Attempts at rebuilding Southern Thedas proved difficult. The damage done to both Ferelden and Orlais made the distribution of relief an arduous task, and there were many who wished to exploit this chaos. With the Inquisition's aid, the many displaced and dispossessed people of the South were provided relief, aid, and hope. The Inquisition provided to all the people who were in need. Human, elven, dwarves, and even the few qunari. None were denied aid, and all were given protection.

Never in all the history of the world had there been an age with so many heroes to inspire the best in all people. King Maric the Savior. King Alistair the Protector. Aedan Cousland, the Hero of Ferelden. Garret Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall. And now, Inquisitor Rajmael Lavellan.

The Chantry:

In the months that followed Corypheus' death, the Grand Clerics appointed Sister Nightingale as the successor to the Sunburst Throne. Given the name Divine Victoria I, she proves controversial from the very start. She first declares and end to the Circle of Magi and allows the mages to govern themselves. She opens the priesthood to both men and women, and all races. Declares support for the Inquisition, and rededicates the Chantry to the principles of charity and acceptance.

There were many who felt that Victoria's new changes were too dangerous and contentious. Several sects arose in resistance to her reforms, declaring her a danger to the faith. Instead of meeting them with steel and flames, Divine Victoria met with their leaders with an open hand and a gentle heart. Miraculously, her words take root and much bloodshed is avoided. For now, the Chantry remains united.

True to his word, Rajmael gave no assistance to the rebuilding of the Chantry, even as they groaned for his help and the many hundreds of faithful urged him. Maintaining his stance that the Inquisition stood for order not religion, he refused to place any faith above another's. And because was not an Andrastian himself, he felt it would be hypocritical for him to endorse an institution for faith he didn't believe in.

This act sowed seeds of resentment and many fanatics soon rose and declared the Inquisition, and its heathen leader, to be against the faith. Some within the Chantry demanded the Inquisition's dissolution. Many still refused to accept a Dalish Elf as the chosen of Andraste, nor did they wish to see a heathen elf stand so high above them.

These voices were quickly put down by the many grateful people who were protected by the Inquisition when the Chantry did nothing, and remembered that it was the Chantry that helped start this chaos. Divine Justinia calmed the fears of those in White Spire by reminding them of Inquisitor Rajmael's continued good deeds and reminded them that Thane Shartan, an elf, was the personal champion of Andraste.

The Mages:

The Inquisition's mages, the former rebels led by Grand Enchanter Fiona, are left with a choice. When the Divine disbands the Circles, they leave the Inquisition and reform the College of Magi as a new order. The College will allow all mages of the South to gather in peace find new solutions to age-old problems. For now, it seems to be working. Mages are enjoying unprecedented freedom and acceptance throughout Thedas.

Some are worried that without the mages having any oversight, they risk recreating the crisis at Kirkwall, or even a new Imperium. But many are reminded that this chaos occurred from trying to treat mages as threats and criminals, rather than people. And after seeing the good things mages have accomplished, many people are ready to treat mages as their brothers rather than nightmares.

Orlais:

The mighty Empire of Orlais had been greatly weakened by the intensity of the civil war. Empress Celene Valmont I retains her position on the Golden Throne, but has a monumental task ahead of her. Fortunately, Celene meets this challenge head-on with all the grace and insight of a true empress. Soon, Orlais once again becomes the heart of culture, art, and learning in Southern Thedas, and Celene it greatest patron.

Many attribute this remarkable recovery to Celene's ladylove, Marquis Briala, the first elf to ever be granted lands and titles in Orlesian history. Many wonder how long this reunion may last. For now, the two lovers, their hearts rekindled, seem content to leave the past where it is, and help the empire move forward to a better future.

Because of Gaspard's death at the hands of the Inquisitor and the intensity of the civil war, Orlais' once unmatchable military might had been vastly reduced. The number of Chevaliers left alive was so few that many feared that they might not recover. Academie de Chevalier's halls now stood empty, with not enough people coming to train, or even instructors to train them. With Celene more focused on art and commerce rather than military, many of the remaining generals and officers now fear for the security of their empire. Some even begin looking to the Inquisition to replace their army, all in the name of order.

Ferelden:

With the deaths of so many of Ferelden's lords and nobles at the Conclave, many of the Bannorn looked to the Inquisition for protection. Many, lords even began to defer to the Inquisition's judgment on matters of law. The famously stubborn dog-lords showed great respect for the accomplishment and deeds of the Inquisition, more honor than they had even given the Grey Wardens. The Fereldan people would forever be grateful to Inquisitor Rajmael for assisting them in their time of need.

With the Blight and the previous civil war still taking its toll on the kingdom, and now the events of this crisis, King Alistair and Queen Anora welcomed the assistance of the Inquisition. It had been the first time in Fereldan history when its monarchs openly welcomed so much outside assistance. In time, the kingdom of Ferelden would return to its full strength.

But not everyone in Ferelden saw the Inquisition as the beacon of light and protection that others saw. Some were resentful for the Inquisitor pardoning the rebel mages after they burned down so many homes and lives. Others in the Bannorn saw another possible foreign oppressor. With so much reverence and so man deferring to the Inquisition's judgment, how long would it take for the Inquisition to try an impose its own laws on Ferelden? This would be a deep concern in the future.

The Grey Wardens:

The Grey Wardens of the South slowly rebuild in the months following the events at Adamant. The atrocities committed by them would be a blemish on the Order for generations to come. Some traveled eastward to Ferelden to join under the command of Warden-Commander Nathaniel Howe in hopes of restoring their shamed honor. The rest declare it time for the Order to emerge from the shadows, to join with the rest of the world in their fight against their ancient foes.

Rumor abound that they severed ties with their leaders at Weisshaupt, and that a bitter shadow war now rages between them. What happens to Hawke when he arrives there is unknown, save that all news out of Weisshaupt soon ends. Does the sudden silence indicate a battle within...or something far worse.

When news stopped, rumors soon flew. Some said that Hawke thwarted an attempt to depose the king of the Anderfels and stopped a darkspawn invasion. And others declared that Aedan Cousland showed up at that ancient fortress, and brought his former brothers and sisters to heel with his legendary wrath. But none can truly know the truth.

The Avvar:

After the death of Corypheus, and winning one of the greatest fights in history, many of the Avvarian tribesman return to their homes in the Frostback mountains. Twice in a single lifetime, the world had seen the might and fortitude of the hearty mountain people in a time of crisis.

With so much exposure to the outside world, many wanted to continue interacting with the lowlanders. Thanks to the wisdom of Thane Svarrah Sun-Hair and Shaman Siobahn Skin-Changer, many Holds now opened new passes and trading routes through their mountains. The Avvar Mountain men now enjoy more wealth and plenty than they have ever known, and without needing to raid the southern lands.

The Elves:

For the first time in history, since the Fall of the Dales, the elves of Southern Thedas enjoyed more rights and freedoms than they had ever known. Not ten years ago, King Alistair had granted the lands of Ostagar to the Dalish clan of Ferelden, and appointed Shianni Tabris as the Bann of the Denerim Alienage. Now Inquisitor Rajmael and Marquis Briala stood as beacons of hope for both the elves of the city and in the forests.

Under Maquis Briala, the elves of Orlais are now seen as equal citizens of the empire and possess all rights therein. Alienage walls are torn down and no longer does the nobility have the right to abuse or mistreat an elf. In Wycome, the members of Clan Lavellan are seen as heroes to the people of the city. Keeper Deshana now sits on the newly founded Wycome City Council with two other elves, and all of them look for ways to better the lives of all the city's people. Wycome and Halamshiral soon becomes a waypoints for Dalish elves to come trade and reconnect with their city elven kin.

News of The Temple of Mythal's discovery spread like wildfire amongst the scholars of Thedas. Many wished to enter the temple to study it, but the Inquisitor forbade it. The temple was sacred to the elves and must be treated with reverence. Many Dalish and city elves came to this sacred place to learn more of their once mighty ancestors and rediscover who they are. Soon, the Temple of Mythal became a safe haven for the young mages of the Dalish clans. With this place to keep them safe, they no longer needed to perform of the barbaric practice of maintaining only a few elves and discarding who they couldn't keep. This act brought much joy to the People.

Many within the Chantry felt offended with the existence of a temple devoted to an elven god. They declared it to be heresy and demanded it to be destroyed. Divine Justinia held back such action by reminding them that the true faithful did not need to be threatened by the heritage and beliefs of others. Some heard the wisdom of Victoria's words, while others only backed down for fear of the Inquisition and its elven leader.

A wave of controversy swept through Orlais and the Chantry when the truth of Inquisitor Ameridan came to light. Many within the empire and the Chantry tried to deny the evidence that one of the most important figures in the Chantry's foundation was an elf as lies and heresy, but Professor Kenric's evidence was irrefutable. All the noble houses of Orlais who claimed to descend from Ameridan were forced large settlements to the Dalish for falsely profiting from a name they had no claim to for centuries. Professor Kenric was greatly honored and vindicated for his discoveries and devotion to the truth.

Mother Giselle and others began a small movement to make amends to the elves for the centuries of abuse they had suffered that the Chantry allowed. Many history books are now being rewritten to recognize the contributions the elven people have made over the centuries. The movement is met with some hostility, but Mother Giselle and Divine Victoria state that the truth is more important than age-old grudges and foolish pride.

Rajmael returned to the Bastion of Elgar'nan in the hopes of finding what was left of the Vir banal'ras, but found the ancient temple to be completely deserted. The only trace of their existence he found was the now dried basin that contained Elgar'nan's Blessing, and a set of old but bloody knives. The Vir banal'ras had returned to the world. The shadows and silence would now be agents of elven vengeance. In a small way, Nethras' will was still being carried out.

Many throughout Southern Thedas felt threatened by the sudden rise of elven power. Never before in recorded history had the human nations been so weak, or the elven people so strong. Some feared that with this newfound strength coupled with centuries of resentment, the elves would attempt to overthrow the humans. Some even begin whispering for another war to keep the elves from rising against them. However, no such action is taken. With Empress Celene and Divine Victoria fully supporting this new change, there is little anyone can do about the elven people's new standing in the world.

The Inquisition:

What started off as a mere band of rebels doing what they believed to be right, has now evolved into an institution to rival nations. Through trade and commerce, Skyhold soon becomes a massive trading hub between Ferelden and Orlais, with direct access to Orzammar, Skyhold now has enough wealth to stabilize or topple entire economies. Once the Montilyets stood on the brink of ruin, now every noble and court in Thedas vies for Ambassador Josephine's advice and diplomacy. Many a knight and noble now duel and rival for her favor, either as an advisor or as an offer of marriage. It had been centuries since the Montilyets had known such prosperity, and Josephine's action had secured her family's legacy.

Many knights, soldiers and mercenaries flock together to join the Inquisition's growing ranks. Templars, Antivan Crows, Chevaliers, Dalish Hunters and even Ash Warriors now add to the formidable strength of Skyhold's army. While they may not have had the numbers to equal any kingdom's forces, their diverse training and formidability made them more than enough to rival any army. Under Commander Cullen's instruction, undisciplined farmhands now train to rival veteran knights. Cullen was often seen training his men and maintaining their discipline, if only to avoid the many marriage proposals that poured on his desk.

Leliana stayed on for a time and continued to serve as Spymaster for the Inquisition. The secrets she gathered was enough to turn the tide of any battle in their favor without ever having to lift a weapon. However, in time, she had to leave her post in order to fulfill her obligations to the Chantry when she was named Divine. Knowing how important it was that the Inquisition's spy network remained untouched, Leliana trained Scout Harding, Agent Charter and Rector to act as he replacements. While Leliana continued to gather information for the Inquisition while also serving as Divine, she now had time to pursue her lifelong dream of breeding her own herd of nugs.

No one, especially not Rajmael could have predicted the events his life would take. Once, merely a Dalish tribesman and content to be just that, he now sat in a position of power on his own throne, with enough authority and influence to rival kingdoms and empires. Some looked to him as a leader who could bring order where many other leaders failed. While others saw him as a Herald of their faith, meant to shepherd them in dark times. And to others, he was a target. The positon he held and the power he wielded became a threat to many powerful people, and they would seek his downfall for years to come.

Rajmael's once pious faith in the elven gods had been deeply shaken, but he never forsook his heritage or loyalty to his people. He did his to keep close connections with his adopted daughter, but the duties of the Inquisition often kept him busy. The mantle of leadership was heavy, and often Rajmael wished he could be rid of it, but his relationship with Cassandra made it much more tolerable, if only to stay close with the Nevarran princess he had come to love.

The Inquisitor knew that this was not the end, but merely a new chapter. There were many threats that still plagued the world, and his sense of honor forbade him from abandoning his post until the world was fully restored. In time, he may return to his people and to Eva, but for now, he would continue in his mission as Inquisitor to restore order to the world. He would show all enemies of the Inquisition the might and power of the elvhen spirit.

---

Language Codex:

Asha'bellanar: Elven, translates as "Woman of Many Years".

Andaran atish'an: Elven greeting, translates as "Welcome to a safe place".

Dareth shiral: Elven farewell, translates as "Safe Journey".

Da'len: Elven term for "Child".

Ma Serannas: Elven, translates as "My thanks".

Lethallin: Elven term of endearment for males. Akin to calling someone "cousin", "brother", or "clansmen".

Bora'nan: Elven weapon shaped like a sickle with a weighted chain on the handle. Translates as "Flying Vengeance".

Sulevin: Elven, translates as "Purpose".

Garas Hanin, Falonen: Elven phrase, translates as "Come to Glory, My Comrades."

Vir Banal'ras: Elven, translates as "The Way of Shadow".

Enasalin: Elven, translates as "Victory".

---

Author's Note:

Alright! I've finally finished this! Sorry for the long wait everybody, but I wanted to make sure I got his right.

This was without a doubt, the longest, most time consuming chapter I have ever written.

Please review and give me your thoughts.

Please know that this is not the end of Rajmael's story.

I fully intend to take his story even further, with lots of awesome originality to go with it.

And because some of you actually care, I went back and redid that part with Sera in the previous chapter.

Because I am too kind, I've got another special thing coming soon for all my loyal readers.

I hope you all continue to read, review and enjoy.