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.

44. Through the Eluvian

~Through the Eluvian~

Divine Victoria, General Cousland, and Arl Teagan made their way to the Council Chamber to take their respective seats at the debate table. Teagan's main focus was on the matter of the Inquisition, but at the same time, he couldn't help but be amazed with the two people who were walking beside him. Ten years ago, when he was standing in that Chantry back in Redcliffe trying to protect the village from a horde of undead, he never would have imagined that three of those people who came to their aid would be where they are now. Alistair, the young lad everyone wanted to forget, had been King of Ferelden for over a decade now, a fact that still sometimes surprised Teagan. Never in a thousand years could Teagan have predicted that that young redheaded bard from Orlais who prayed with the children of Redcliffe in that Chantry would now sit on the Sunburst Throne. Even now, Teagan had difficulty looking at the Divine and not seeing that young woman in those robes. The only one who was not much of a surprise, was Aedan. The Couslands had always been a formidable family, and Bryce and Eleanor raised their sons to carry on that tradition. Even before the Blight, Aedan had cemented a fearsome reputation as a warrior, and despite all the tragedy and loss he suffered during the Blight, it helped him fulfill his potential as Ferelden's greatest protector. Now the three of them would sit at the same table to decide the fate of the Inquisition, an institute that very well saved the entire world. The Maker certainly moved in mysterious ways.

Now they had to begin with the most painful process to start this whole affair: the longwinded introductions by an Orlesian herald.

The trumpeters blew their fanfare trumpets to announce the arrival of those important enough to be introduced in these proceedings. It was so loud that it was a shock that the trumpeters themselves weren't already deaf. The herald held out his scroll, took a deep breath into his lungs and began the introductions.

"Let all attending gather now! The Council Members have arrived!" The herald declared. "Presenting Her Perfection, the Most Holy Divine Victoria I, beloved leader of the Chantry, and the voice of Andraste on Thedas!"

Every soul in the meeting chamber rose to their feet and bowed reverently, humbled to be in the presence of the greatest living figure of their faith, as she made her way to her seat with all the grace and beauty of her station.

"Duke Cyril de Montfort! Head of House de Montfort. Master of Chateau Haine, leading member of the Council of Heralds, and representative of Orlais."

Many of the Orlesians raised their glasses to Duke Cyril while the Chevaliers saluted him. Cyril took notice of the attention he was being given and waved to his fellow countrymen, causing the Orlesian ladies to giggle behind their fans.

"Arl Teagan Guerrin, the Arl of Redcliffe. Brother to Eamon Guerrin and uncle of King Alistair. Representing Ferelden."

The Arl said nothing, and paid no attention to the amused whispers of the Orlesians.. He quickly made his way to his seat, ready to finally get this matter settled.

"And presenting, ahem, Lord Aedan Cousland, the Hero of Ferelden!" The entire chamber became as still and silent as a crypt at the mention of that name. "General of the Fereldan Armies, former Warden-Commander of The Grey in Ferelden, and former Arl of Amaranthine. Brother to Teyrn Fergus Cousland of Highever, founder of the Knights of the Silver Order. Honorary member of the Legion of the Dead, ranking member of..."

"GET ON WITH IT!" Aedan yelled, deeply annoyed by this prattle.

"...Head of Ferelden's security on the Council."

Aedan rolled his eyes at the Orlesian herald and made his way to his seat at the table. Not a soul moved as he walked, as if afraid that being noticed by him would cause offense. All these people had heard the stories of his cruelty, and dared not provoke him. Only the soldiers of Ferelden showed him respect.

"And representing the Inquisition...Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet of Antiva City. Head of House Montilyet, and Ambassador of the Inquisition."

Josephine bowed with respect to the Exalted Council. Every man watched her graceful poise and beauty as she walked, while most of the women looked at her with envy for all the power and influence she wielded, as well as her beauty.

"And Lord Inquisitor Rajmael Lavellan, leader of the Inquisition. First of Clan Lavellan, Comte of Kirkwall. Savior and Protector of the Southern Mages. Dragonsbane, and Herald of Andraste."

All eyes turned to the elven Inquisitor as he entered, some showing even more respect than they did even the Divine. As he made his way to his seat next to Josephine, lords, ladies, and even Chevaliers of all people, bowed in respect to him, whispering words of gratitude and reverence. It was still something Rajmael was unused to, even after being Inquisitor for two years.

With that final threshold crossed, and the Orlesian herald finally going away, it was time to begin the Exalted Council.

~XoXoXo~

It didn't take long for the Council members to just start ripping into the Inquisitor with reasons for their demands. Duke Cyril insisting that the Inquisition's accomplishments and influence are not something to be lightly discarded, while Arl Teagan argued that so much power should not belong to any one nation or institution. All the while Divine Victoria had to keep reminding the Orlesian and Fereldan parties that this was a Council, not a trial, and that the Inquisition had a right to defend its cause.

"Thank you, Your Holiness." Josephine spoke, rising from her seat to present the Council. "Now, Arl Teagan, as to your concerns..."

"Are greatly validated!" Teagan interrupted fervently. "The Inquisition established in armed presence in the very center of Ferelden territory. You outright seized Caer Bronach in Crestwood!"

Rajmael remained calm, remembering quite vividly how those event happened. As if to show his contempt for the Exalted Council and their demands, he casually took his sylvanwood pipe and began smoking right in the middle of the meeting.

"I can see why this has you upset, Arl Teagan. Did we seize Caer Bronach and house our soldiers in it? Yes, yes we did. After we liberated it from the bandits who were plaguing Crestwood and banished the demons. We established our soldiers there because you weren't there to protect your own people!"

"Your efforts were appreciated two years ago, Inquisitor. They are still appreciated it. But now order has been restored, yet your soldiers remain in Ferelden." Teagan debated. "Invading under the pretext of restoring order is exactly what the Grey Wardens did to us centuries ago, and we exiled them! Now the Inquisition is doing the same thing with Grey Wardens in their ranks!"

"Your logic is ill-founded, Arl Teagan." Duke Cyril asserted haughtily. "The Grey Wardens have proved themselves heroes, time and time again. I have no doubt that the Inquisition will prove to be the same."

"Of course Orlais tolerates this interference. The Inquisition is the only reason why Celene remains on her throne." Teagan balked. "The Inquisition uses its status as heroes in Orlais to justify their continued presence and military power."

"Considering your country's last national hero was a regicidal traitor and slaver and your current national hero is a warmongering cannibal, I find your argument about the follies of heroes almost laughable, Arl Teagan." Rajmael rebutted, contemptuously exhaling smoke from between his teeth.

A wave of 'oohs' and shocked gasps spread throughout the chamber at the Inquisitor's bold words. Josephine face-planted herself as Arl Teagan glared his outrage at the Inquisitor, neither of them could believe he'd have the gall to say that aloud. Aedan remained in his seat, just as surprised as Teagan at the Inquisitor's audacity.

"Oh. And he hits below the belt. Nice." Aedan commented, rather impressed.

"That is precisely our concern." Teagan asserted. "We in Ferelden know the dangers that so-called heroes pose, especially when they try to use their accumulated power and influence to assert their own agenda."

"Rest assured, Teagan, the Empire of Orlais will not stand idly by if the Inquisition oversteps its bounds." Duke Cyril continued unfettered. "Unlike Ferelden, however, Orlais understands that these were the well intended mistakes of a young organization in the heat of turbulent times. An organization in need of a guiding hand."

"And by 'guiding hand', you mean your own, no doubt." Teagan huffed.

"The Inquisition has no need for a guiding hand!" Rajmael finally argued back. "It was founded to do what was needed without the political machinations of other kingdoms to prevent us from doing what was necessary. By trying to tether our organization to single kingdom, you leash to that kingdoms agenda, and those agendas are always self-serving. The Inquisition exists to protect all."

"Such impassioned words, Inquisitor. I'm almost touched, but not really." Aedan finally spoke out, his voice sounding like the growl of a hungry animal. Everyone went silent again as spoke. "Maintaining order, defending the people...all so noble, and all so false. Noble intentions that mask darker agendas have been used repeatedly throughout history to steal the rights and freedoms other people. Take Mayor Gregory Dedrick of Crestwood, for example..."

"The Inquisitor's judgment over Mayor Dedrick was authorized by King Alistair." Josephine reminded fervently, rising from her seat. "More so than that, his judgment was just and fair. Sending Dedrick to the Wardens was the most amicable way to punish and redeem his crimes against the people of Crestwood."

"And so it was. That was an entirely legal matter, and a sign of wise leadership from both parties." Aedan agreed, surprising Josephine and Rajmael equally. "But what I want to know, is who the fuck gave you authority to conscript Lord Harmond's support for the Inquisition? The way he tells it, the Inquisitor and his Red Jenny friend threatened to 'liquefy his brains in his skull and watch it ooze out of his ears', if he didn't further the Inquisition's interests in Verchiel."

Josephine was stunned into silence, and quickly tried to think up an argument against that legally reprehensible act on their part. Rajmael couldn't help but curse himself inside. Somehow he always knew that helping Sera would come back to bite him in the ass. He just didn't realize that it would Aedan Cousland who would be doing the biting. He was just glad he didn't let Sera kill the bastard, or else he'd be in real trouble.

"General Cousland, you must understand that we were trying to restore order. Harmond's actions in Verchiel were self-serving and destructive to the people of the town." Josephine insisted. "What the Inquisitor did was to maintain peace."

"A very sorry excuse, Ambassador, and you know it." Aedan rejected grimly. "I know Harmond is a sniveling putz, and that what he was doing was inexcusable, but that is Ferelden's problem! You had no right to impose your authority on a Fereldan lord to further your own interests! What's next? Do you plan to use the people's love and faith in this false Herald of Andraste to wage war on anyone who doesn't maintain order? As an elf, Inquisitor, you of all people, should know the dangers that a single entity based on faith and devotion poses, given what the Chantry did to your people. How long before you start calling an Exalted March to keep order?"

Shocked words were whispered throughout the gathered crowd as people agreed and argued the Hero's words amongst themselves. Leliana gave Aedan an angry look, which Aedan flippantly ignored. What he said was very insensitive, but undeniably true.

That last question stung Rajmael deeply through his whole being. Aedan all but called him a hypocrite, and dared to compare him and the Inquisition to the people who destroyed the Dalish kingdom. Everything he heard about that man was: Aedan Cousland was one mean bastard.

Then Rajmael felt another terrible sting. A terrible pain erupted in Rajmael's left palm where the Anchor was marked. Like something woke and bit him right on the hand. It was everything he could do not to make a sound right in the middle of the Council. Josephine noticed his efforts to hide his pain, and grew deeply concerned.

"Beg pardon, Lord Inquisitor." A strange voice whispered. It was a young elven scout who Rajmael did not recognize. She had dirty blonde hair and freckles on her face, but was otherwise unnoticeable. "I'm sorry, but the Divine has urgent news she wishes to speak with you, in private."

"If she wishes to speak, the Divine is right there." Rajmael stated, remarking on the scouts odd request.

"Yes. But she was once your Spymaster, and knows when things should be spoken in public and in private." The elven scout insisted. "It's a very pressing matter."

Rajmael looked over to the Divine and saw her urging him with her eyes, and took the hint. "I must apologize, but an urgent matter has been brought to my attention. Would you please excuse me for a moment? Josephine, I need you to handle the Council in my stead."

"Pardon me, Inquisitor?" Josephine asked incredulously as the Inquisitor got up and walked away.

"This is highly irregular!" Duke Cyril remarked as the Inquisitor unceremoniously walked out of the Council Chamber.

"Perhaps it would be best if we all take a recess." The Divine suggested. At her word, everyone decided to clear out and discuss what just transpired.

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael made his way to one of the storage buildings in the Winter Palace's garden. Divine Victoria's bodyguards had warded off the area, letting no one in, even as they gathered around to see just what was going on. What was so important that made the Inquisitor have the insolence to just walk out on the Exalted Council? Rajmael could hear them whispering about his audacity, how it gave credence to Orlais and Ferelden's arguments. At the moment, Rajmael really didn't care for their concerns and gossip. He was more concerned about what was so important the Divine had to pull him out of the Council Chamber.

"Was it wise to simply just dump the Exalted Council on Josephine like that?" Rajmael asked the Divine.

"She can handle them, believe me." Leliana assured. "It's mostly just posturing and speeches for the first few days anyway. Follow me."

Rajmael followed the Divine into the storage building, where the gardeners kept their tools, he almost thought his eye sight was failing him. Divine Victoria was standing over the body of a Qunari warrior, and it wasn't Iron Bull.

"Leliana, please tell me my eyes are starting fail or that Iron Bull is dead drunk at your feet after a makeover, and that there's not a dead Qunari soldier at you feet." Rajmael beseeched sarcastically.

"Unfortunately Inquisitor, your eyesight is perfectly fine, and Iron Bull is relatively sober. There is an actual dead Qunari warrior at my feet, dressed in full armor no less." Leliana answered calmly. The former bard and Spymaster examined the warrior's body, looking for clues and details about how he ended up here. He was lying in a pool of his own blood that trailed out the door, and from the looks of him, he hadn't been dead very long. "How very odd, this man is obviously a soldier, not a spy. Part of the Antaam."

"Yeah, that's pretty plain to see." Spoke the deep voice of the Iron Bull. "Spies don't usually go around prancing in full armor, unless that's part of their cover, like me. This guy was a karashock, a foot-soldier, outfitted for a full-on fight. From the looks of him, he got more than he was expecting."

"Looks like he was in battle against magic, judging from the burns on his armor, and the ambient energy radiating off him." Rajmael observed, sensing the lingering magical effects. "Looks like he was also cut up by some blades and arrows. This guy was in some intense fighting."

"Sounds like Tuesday back in Seheron." Iron Bull commented.

"Yeah, except one big problem: Seheron is on the other side of Thedas! How the fuck did he end up dead in shed in the middle of the Winter Palace?!" Rajmael asked confounded.

"Yeah, and the other problem is the fact that members of the Antaam never work alone. Where there's one, there's always more." Iron Bull pointed out. "And it seems like they're out for a fight."

Lieutenant Krem walked through the door with a very nervous look on his face. "Um, Chief? Your Holinesses? You've got a problem out here."

"We have a really big problem in here, Krem." Iron Bull stated.

"Yeah, and you're about to have another one in just a moment, Chief. It's about 6'4", two-hundred and twenty pounds of pure mean with tattoos on his face."

"Aw, crap." Rajmael uttered, realizing what Krem was talking about.

Aedan and Zevran were made their way towards the storage shed that was housing the dead qunari, shoving their way through the crowd as they went. Aedan looked like he wanted something, and he was going to get it. One of the Divine's guards stood in his path, refusing to allow the Fereldan General to pass.

"On the divine will of Her Most Holy, none are permitted past this point." The guard stated staunchly.

Aedan didn't even bother to take notice of the Chantry guard, and shoved him out of his way, like the armored man weighed little more than a leaf. The other guards advanced on the Fereldan hero, ready to stop him from coming any further, and avenge their comrade's dignity, if needs be.

"That's enough! Let him pass." The Divine ordered as she and the Inquisitor stepped out to greet Aedan. The Chantry guards obediently took their hands away from their weapons and allowed Aedan and Zevran to approach the Divine. "Aedan, Zevran. What is this meaning of this?"

"Don't look at me, I'm just following him." Zevran insisted.

"Why don't you tell me what's going on, Leliana?" Aedan responded gruffly. "You're making it painfully obvious that you're trying to hide something, which is so unlike you, and it also means that something so unexpected has happened that you're willing to make the Inquisitor look like an asshole in front of the Exalted Council."

"I'm sorry, my dear, but that was very sloppy and unprofessional." Zevran commented disappointedly. "Honestly, I expected much better from you."

And I saw that look you gave the Inquisitor. That subtle look in the eye you give when you're trying to tell someone of a life-and-death situation. You used to give it to me, too."

"You know me all too well, Aedan, that's for certain." Leliana chuckled. There was no getting around this or denying what Aedan had said, but she couldn't let him get involved. "I'm sorry, Aedan, but this is a private matter, and it is being handled. Please, let the Inquisitor and I do our duty."

Aedan looked at Leliana with a deathly serious look in the eye, refusing to let this matter go. "I do not like secrets, Leliana. At all. And I sure as shit am not going to turn a blind eye when potentially dangerous matters are occurring right behind my back. Now, as the representative of the Chantry on this Council, you are supposed to be a neutral party, and therefore have no jurisdiction over me. I, on the other hand, as head of the Fereldan delgation's security, can demand answers from you and the Inquisitor, and you'd be obligated to give them."

This was a grave matter. Everything Aedan said was completely true, and they were being backed into a corner. Leliana was being given little choice.

"But I don't want to do that." Aedan admitted, surprising the Divine and Inquisitor. "I would rather that you trust me enough to tell me what is going on. So, I'm asking in the name of our friendship to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

This was most unexpected to Rajmael. Given everything he had seen and heard of the Hero of Ferelden, he was surprised the man didn't just force his way past them to get the answers he wanted. Unfortunately, Rajmael wasn't one to just hand anything over to anyone, especially human nobles.

"Before we tell you anything, there's a couple things I want to point out, and conditions to be met." Rajmael stated.

"Conditions?"

"Yes. First of all, while you may be in charge of Fereldan security here, you have no legal jurisdiction here in Orlais, where my authority is still recognized until this summit is over. So you really can't demand shit of me, and all you can really do about it is go crying back to Arl Teagan." Rajmael stated staunchly as fact. "So, if I'm to let you in on the matter of the Inquisition, you must give me your assurance that anything you see will remain secret, and will have no bearing with you in the Exalted Council."

Aedan's eye twitched in annoyance with the elf. "You mean to make demands of me, Inquisitor?"

"You're damned right I'm making demands of you, and they are demands you will honor. Or, I can just make this quick and hand the power of the Inquisitor to Orlais, and we can all be done with this. And somehow, I don't think you want the Orlesians to have the power the Inquisition wields." Rajmael asserted defiantly.

Aedan loomed over the Dalish elf with that dangerous look in his eyes, and Rajmael felt for certain the human would attempt to attack. Zevran took a step back to avoid the mess that was going to be made. Instead, the Hero only smiled at the Inquisitor sinisterly.

"Well, I'll give you this much, Inquisitor: you've got a pair of brass on you that should be ringing in a Chantry bell tower." Aedan laughed, thoroughly impressed with the Inquisitor's gall.

"Oh, well, that's flattering." Rajmael sighed with relief. "So, we have an accord, then?"

"Yes, we have an accord." Aedan agreed. "However, you must also understand, that while I anything I see that will have no bearing in the Exalted Council, that also means that I will ignore anything that can give the Inquisition credence."

"We managed to destroy Corpheus and save the world without your aid, I think the Inquisition can manage a little longer without your assistance." Rajmael affirmed confidently. "Now, swear it, and make sure it's a promise I can believe."

Aedan raised his right hand to swear his oath. "I swear, on the memory of my father and mother, Bryce and Eleanor Cousland, nothing I see or learn here will have any bearing on my position on the Exalted Council. And I swear upon the soul of my son, Kieran, that anything I see will remain a secret."

Rajmael and Aedan may have been from completely different walks of life, different races even, but they were also both warriors. And Rajmael knew the value of a warrior's word, and believed the Hero's vow. "Alright, General Cousland. I'm sure you're used to seeing bizarre things, but tell me if this is something new."

Iron Bull made room as Aedan walked into the storage building and was actually quite unmoved by what he found in there. If anything, he didn't seem surprised at all. "Well, well, ain't this a surprise. The fuck's a karashok soldier doing this far south? And why is it alone?"

"You know what this guy's rank just by looking at 'em?" Iron Bull observed, rather surprised.

"I study all potential threats to my country, and the qunari have already offended me once before." Aedan answered grimly. He made his own observations of the dead man's wounds in silence. "With wounds like these, he couldn't have gone far. Wherever he must have fought must be nearby. And look, there's a trail of blood."

"Let's follow it and see what we can find." Rajmael spoke.

Aedan and Zevran followed after Rajmael. All three of them were capable trackers and picked up on the blood trail quickly. They made their way through the back passes of the garden where the qunari soldier had crawled through. The trail ended and at a lattice garden wall, but there was a blood smeared on it that led up to the unused apartments above. The qunari must have fallen from the upper floors and landed in the garden. The three of them climbed the lattice walls to the apartments, which looked like they hadn't seen use, or even been dusted, in years. If anything, it looked like an elaborate storage closet. Old furniture, dusty drapes, and about million cobwebs.

The only evidence of the qunari's presence in this room was the staggered foot prints that disturbed all the dust on the ground, and the drops of blood that led behind the nearby door. Rajmael opened the door, and was once again forced to question the stability of his own eyesight and sanity. Behind the door was a massive mirror framed in ancient elven design, it's glass shimmering with ethereal beauty, and powerful magical energies emanating from it. There was an eluvian right in the middle of the Winter Palace.

"My, oh my. What is this?" Zevran asked, not knowing what they were looking at.

"This is..."

"An eluvian." Aedan interrupted, surprising Rajmael immensely. "An ancient elven artifact used by the your ancestors to pass through the world like a magical doorway. These passages led to other places in Thedas, the Fade, and all points in between."

"How...how could you know this?" Rajmael asked, astonished at the Fereldan General's acute knowledge.

"Aside from the fact that Lady Morrigan, with whom I know you're acquainted, is my wife, I have seen and learned many magnificent things in my travels." Aedan answered cryptically. "Zevran, your ancestors once used mirrors like this to rule the entire world."

"Hm. Shame they couldn't save us from your ancestors." Zevran responded blithely, looking at mirror intently. "Still, I suppose a mirror that can take across thousand of miles in the blink of an eye is more useful than simply showing off one's beautiful reflection. And this is how our mysterious Qunari landed in the Winter Palace. Do you suppose it leads to more Qunari? Perhaps even the Qunari homeland? I've always wondered what a whole nation of those musclebound brutes must be like."

"Only one way to find out." Rajmael stated determinedly. "But none of us are going in through there alone, especially if there's more qunari on the other side. Are you two certain you want to come with?"

"But of course! Especially if this mirror does lead to the qunari homeland." Aedan smiled. "I've yet to actually invade another people and put their cities to the torch, and doing that to the qunari would be a dream come true."

"If we're actually going into the unknown through a magical mirror, I'd rather do it standing behind two of the most famous heroes in Thedas." Zevran smiled. "Less chances of me dying if you two are in front of me."

~XoXoXo~

Rajmael alerted Leliana, Cullen and Josephine to the situation, and urged them to handle what they could back here. Josephine and Leliana would continue to keep the nobles and the council at bay, while Cullen got their men ready and would watch the eluvian to make sure nothing else came out of it. This fiasco couldn't have happened at a worse time.

Rajmael gathered his companions, making sure all of them were armed and ready for whatever they might encounter. Zevran was armed with a pair of serpentine daggers meant to carve flesh and pierce through the ribs, and with a healthy coating of poison for good measure. Aedan carried a very brutal looking axe made of high quality dragonbone. The axe head was crescent-shaped to pierce armor and disembowel his enemies. The opposite side of the axehead was a rounded hammerhead meant to crush bones. And on the end of the shaft was a four-bladed spearhead meant to act as a counterbalance, as well as a third weapon. On its own, this weapon was capable of causing great pain, but in the hands of Aedan Cousland, it could do much more.

Everyone shared Rajmael's surprise to learn of not just the dead qunari soldier but also the existence of an eluvian right in the middle of the Winter Palace. Most of them wished they would never have to see such a thing for the rest of their lives. However, they had all learned just how dangerous these artifacts could be during their war against Corypheus, and if the qunari were somehow using them, they had to find out to what end. One by one, with Rajmael at the lead, entered through the magic mirror.

What they found on the other side of that mirror was beyond anything they could have imagined or dreamed. Islands of rock, elven ruins floating in an abyss of unending light with ancient ruins scattered all over them. Above and below them, there was no sky and no pit, just...infinity. Rivers of infinite water falling into the infinite chasm and statues of ancient elves still standing tall, despite the ruin around them. And all around them were even more eluvians. Some active, others inert. It was so alien yet so beautiful. Rajmael could feel the magic of this place surrounding him.

"This is the Crossroads. Morrigan brought me here when she showed me the eluvians." Rajmael recalled.

"Eh. Islands, rocks and ground should be on the ground...the way nature intended. Not floating around in the middle of the sky. We ain't clouds!" Iron Bull grumbled uncomfortably.

"There are ancient temples back in Tevinter that float off the ground. They were made so that the ancient priests could be close to the Old Gods." Dorian commented. "But they had to be enchanted. I think this is how this place is naturally."

"Don't let its appearance fool any of you. This place is in ruins for a reason. Who knows what demons and foul creatures are hiding in the rubble." Vivienne admonished.

"No, this is not a place of demons, it's not even the Fade." Cole spoke out. "We're close to it, but we're also still close to the other world. We're...in the middle."

"Ugh. What happened to the days when wars and battles were simple? Conflicts are supposed to happen on the battlefield, not between realms of reality." Ranier groaned.

Varric didn't share any of the contempt some of his compatriots had. He looked at it with a sense of amazement that only a storyteller could appreciate. "Wow. Even more elven wonders and achievements. Maker, I wish you were here, Daisy."

"We should still be careful. These ancient elven ruins are often home to very powerful and dangerous magicks." Cassandra cautioned. "That Orb, the Anchor, and now these eluvians. We do not know what other creations the ancient elves left behind."

"It's pretty, I guess. In a weird, stretch, broken kind of way." Sera shivered, still nervous around anything elven or outside her comprehension. "There's too many colors, though. Like looking through Serault glass or something."

"You cannot mean to say you dislike this, Miss Sera?" Zevran asked astonished. "This place is magnificent! I've seen Chantries and palaces that cannot compare to this. And all these colors...it adds to its ethereal beauty. Like a canvas with more colors than I realized existed."

"What are you two talking about? What colors?" Varric asked.

"All I see is grey and bits of mist everywhere. No colors of anything like that." Cassandra added.

"This place was created by the elves. Their magic is strong here, and so it reacts differently to elves. Anyone else is an outsider, and therefore this place isn't as accommodating." Aedan theorized logically.

"How would that work?" Sera asked harshly. "Eyes are eyes, or supposed to be! Grr, stupid place!"

"If that were true, than elven eyes wouldn't be able to see in the dark, you twit." Aedan criticized.

"There's something different about this place. Can't any of you feel it?" Rajmael asked, barely able to restrain his excitement.

"Feel what, Rajmael?" Cassandra asked.

"I can feel the magic of this place surrounding me, and inside of me at the same time." Rajmael tried to explain these new sensations the Crossroads was making him feel. "Last time I was here, the Crossroads felt like it was falling apart, dying. Now...now it feels alive. Like something woke it up, and it's full of life again."

"I realize that as a Dalish elf, you probably have a lot of questions right now, and maybe we'll even find the answers you're looking for, but right now, perhaps we should be focused on our objective." Aedan reminded. "Look, over there!"

Aedan pointed to another inactive eluvian, and slumped up against it was another dead qunari wearing the same armor as the first one they found. And like the first one they found, he had wounds from fighting magic, as well as blades carving up his body.

"Same detail as before." Cassandra observed. "Similar rank and injuries as the first qunari. And look there...a trail of blood. We should follow it to see where he came from."

"We should also be concerned about where he was going." Aedan noted. "After he was attacked, he crawled his way over here and slumped up against this particular mirror, but it was inactive. Where does this eluvian lead to?"

"A question for later. For now, let's see where he came from, and what attacked him." Rajmael stated. "Maybe the qunari stumbled on something they shouldn't have."

All of them followed the qunari's blood along the ruined pathway to another magic mirror. This one was active, and Rajmael could feel its magic coursing with life. They would either find their answers or more questions through this mirror.

~XoXoXo~

All of them walked through the eluvian and found themselves in some kind of fortress. Bricks and stone, with strong walls that were enough to please any military commander. But these walls were not made by the hands of mankind. The architecture was unmistakably elven. However, this was no building left in ruin, but still standing strong as it did the day it was built.

"These are elven ruins. I don't think we're even in Orlais anymore." Rajmael observed.

"Good. Anywhere's better than Orlais as far as I'm concerned." Aedan commented, actually relieved.

They came upon another slain qunari soldier, laying in a pool of his own still warm blood. There was sunlight at the end of the hall. Rajmael led them outdoors and was in awe at the sight they came upon. A verdant green valley that expanded the entire horizon. Rolling hills, shimmering lakes, and tall trees filled the landscape like a beautiful painting, and dotted all across the valley were other fortresses and towers that overlooked the entire survey.

"What are those towers in the distance?" Dorian asked.

"Watchtowers, probably." Iron Bull answered. "The way their positioned, you could see the whole layout of the land and nothing would escape your notice."

"But what is this place?" Varric asked. "I mean, look at it! This isn't like the first place we stumbled into, it's all picturesque and pristine. If we're not in Thedas, then where the heck are we?"

"We're still somewhere between the Fade and Thedas, like the Crossroads, but its different." Rajmael spoke, looking for an answer himself. "This place feels more stable. Not deteriorating."

Their curiosity was quickly crushed when a massive explosion of green energy erupted at one of the other towers making a clap of thunder echo through the valley.

"The fuck was that?" Aedan wondered.

"Let's go!" Rajmael urged.

Everyone rushed after the Inquisitor who ran to the edge of the tower, where yet another eluvian stood ready for use. However, this time their attention was not on the magic mirror but on the dead qunari surrounding it. Unlike the other ones they found, these soldiers were petrified into stone, standing with their weapons in hand like they were going to attack. They had been turned into statues so quickly they were frozen in battle, with massive scorch marks on the ground where they stood.

"Look at these qunari, these scorch marks. This is the work of a mage." Rajmael observed.

"And an extremely powerful one at that." Dorian added. "I can still feel the heat from the spell on my skin."

"The amount of expended energy is remarkable. I'd say this spell was casted at least within the past hour." Vivienne commented.

"I've seen a lot of battles against magic back in Seheron, but nothing like this." Iron Bull recalled, poking at the qunari turned statues. "The fuck kind of mage can do this to a person?"

"Look at how these soldier are positioned. They look like they were trying to surround someone. This was the work of a single person." Ranier observed.

"Whoever it was, it was some very powerful, someone they weren't expecting. Someone they were afraid of." Aedan stated.

"How can you tell?" Cassandra asked.

"I can taste their fear in the air."

"Ugh. Can you try sounding less creepy?" Sera begged.

"Only if you can try sound less stupid." Aedan rebutted.

"That explosion came from that tower. Maybe this mirror can take us over there?" Cassandra guessed.

Taking Cassandra's advice, they all moved past the petrified qunari corpses and walked through the next eluvian. They arrived at the end of a bridge in the middle of a lake and heard the familiar sounds of battle happening on the other side.

"Maldecion! Look at that!" Zevran said astonished, pointing across the bridge.

They could see more qunari engaged in intense combat with what looked like spirits on what looked like an island temple in the middle of the lake. They had to get over there, but the bridge had been submerged beneath the moat. They had to find a way to raise it if they were going to progress any further. There was a podium at the front of the bridge that looked like something was supposed to fit there like a key. It was their only means of moving forward.

There was yet another eluvian. It would seem that traveling through them was their only means of navigating this unknown realm. The eluvian transported them to another tower on one of the mountainsides that looked down on to the island fortress below. It would seem the qunari had already been here, judging from the fire that was still burning and the amount of destruction they left behind. Qunari soldiers rarely ever leave any place they go to untouched. However, just like everywhere else the Inquisitor and his companions came upon here, the qunari laid slain on the ground. There was another active eluvian nearby, but that wasn't what Rajmael and his companions were focused on at the moment. Right now, their attention was drawn to the assassins that killed all these qunari.

Rajmael could now understand why people as formidable as soldiers of the Antaam were found dead all over this place. This place was guarded by a spirits. Not ones that were warped into demons and bound here, but an actual squadron of warrior spirits that took on the form of ancient elven warriors, like the Sentinels in the Temple of Mythal. They were tall and powerful to behold, with a strange sense of serenity surrounding them, and they felt as ancient the place they guarded.

"Aw, shit! Why'd it have to be demons?" Iron Bull groaned.

"Hmph. Spirits, bound here when the when the elves built this place, because that could never go wrong." Vivienne remarked disparagingly.

"No. Not bound to this place, sworn to guard it. They protect it because it is their duty." Cole spoke out. Even though he was no longer a spirit himself, he still had insight into the intention of spirits.

"Whatever they are, they feel old. Extremely old." Dorian observed, sensing the age and power of the spirits.

"Why's every elfy place we go to gotta be filled with creepy things from another world?" Sera complained.

"Well, they're not attacking us. Maybe they're friendly?" Varric wondered hopefully

"I think you can look to these qunari for the answer to that question, Varric." Cassandra rebutted, pointing to the slain, burning corpses of the qunari soldiers surrounding them.

"These aren't like the spirits we fought before." Ranier observed. "They're standing in formation, like they're waiting for something."

"If they're waiting for someone to come relieve them of duty, I give them full points for their dedication." Zevran commented. "I don't think I could ever make such a commitment. Too much like a marriage."

"Maybe they're not attacking because we have elves with us?" Aedan suggested. "If this truly was a place for the elves, maybe they see you as allies."

What Aedan said made a certain kind of sense. It looks like they attacked the qunari on sight, but were now waiting for something from them. Rajmael approached them to see if this might be true, his sword held ready in case it wasn't.

"Atish'all vallem, Fen'heral elathadra." The lead spirit spoke welcomingly in the Elvhen tongue. "Nuvenas mana helanin, dirth bellasa ma."

Sadly, Rajmael could only make out of few words that the spirit spoke. The Dalish knew precious little of their own lost language, and Rajmael was the only one here who could speak any of it, and these words were unknown to him. It said something about welcome to Fen'heral's something, and seeking help, but Rajmael couldn't make out much more.

"Let me see if I can communicate with it." Rajmael intended. "Andaran atish'an setharan. Ir'a vhenallin."

"Virthar ma. Na din'nan sahlin!" The spirit yelled angrily. It conjured a massive war hammer in his hands while its fellow spirits drew bows and arrows and attacked the Inquisitor and his party.

"So much for friendlies!" Varric yelled, firing Bianca at the spirit archers.

The spirit warrior brought his immense hammer down on Rajmael with such impossible speed that it grazed his skin when he barely moved out of its way. For the first time in two years, Rajmael drew the Enasalin. The spirit archers fired a volley at the Inquisitor, but the elf launched a web of lightning from his hand, swatting the projectiles out of the air and electrified the archers where they stood. Rajmael turned his attention back to the spirit warrior, ready to dust off his training. This warrior spirit would know what he was capable of. But then, suddenly...

"Aaargh!" Rajmael screamed in terrible agony and his sword fell from his hands as the Anchor in his palm erupted like a volcano of pain that burned all the way up his arm and throughout his body. Unable to stand but refusing to die, Rajmael dived away from the warrior's reach and out of the archers' line of sight.

"Inquisitor!" Iron Bull bellowed furiously. He fearlessly charged the spirit warrior with his axe, aiming to split the ethereal creature in half. The warrior blocked Bull's deathblow with the shaft of his hammer and kicked the massive qunari with such force it sent him hurdling back down the steps.

Varric and Sera took cover behind some sand bags to provide some cover fire for their comrades. Ranier and Cassandra raised their shields and held them against the enemy archers volley of arrows. The spirits conjured even more arrows out of thin air and fired them with blinding speed and accuracy, then repeated the attack. Dorian and Vivienne raised a barrier to give all of them cover, but the archers and their infinite arrows made it impossible for them to assist the Inquisitor without getting hit. Zevran threw some a couple of smoke bombs at the archers to grant them some cover while blinding their enemies.

Aedan's eyes began to glow red and held his dragonbone axe ready to charge out there and help the Inquisitor. Until Cole made an ill-thought move.

"I have to help him!" Cole shouted and tried rushing over to the Inquisitor. He slipped through the mages' barrier and tried running to his fallen leader, putting himself right in the archers' sights.

"Look out, boy!" Aedan shouted, dashing out into the middle of the fray and pulling Cole out of the way, and making himself a perfect target. A volley of spirit arrows pierced Aedan's side and back as he threw Cole back to safety.

"You're hurt." Cole said worriedly.

"Don't worry about me, kid. It's gonna take a lot a more than toothpicks from spirits to harm me." Aedan assured. To him, these arrows were more akin to rain than an actual threat.

Rajmael felt like all the bones and muscles on his left side were on fire, making it hard for him to get back up. He crawled over towards the other eluvian to keep from being shot by the archers. It figures, really. His first real fight in two years, and he was failing so utterly. Just what was wrong with this damned mark? Now wasn't the time to think about it, he had to get back into the fight.

Rajmael tried to reach for his sword to aid his comrades. He could almost touch it with his fingertips. The spirit warrior kicked the Inquisitor's sword out of his reach, then kicked him on to his back. It pinned Rajmael to the ground with its foot, raised its hammer above his head, and prepared to crush the intruder with all its might.

A blade black as midnight sprang forth from the eluvian Rajmael laid before, impaling one of the warrior spirit like a butterfly on a pin. The owner of the black sword emerged from the eluvian like an answer to a prayer. Several grenades were thrown at the spirit archers, blasting several down from behind before they had a chance to react. The mysterious savior charged the remaining spirits in the smoke. There was the sound of a blade cutting the air, and when the smoke cleared, it revealed the dispatched spirits disappearing, and the mystery figure standing alone. A warrior in black armor with a tattered red sash draped across his chest. He held a dark greatsword in his hands, and a red smear of blood painted across his face.

Varric rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things, because he couldn't believe his own eyes. "I'm either drunk, insane, or this is a sodding miracle. Hawke, is that really you?"

The Champion of Kirkwall sheathed the Celebrant on his back, and smiled welcoming at his old friend. "Well, Varric, you never are truly sober, and your sanity was always questionable, but if there is a Maker, then this truly is a miracle. I was half-expecting to land in Seheron, or something like that. It would seem trouble has a way of reuniting us, doesn't it?"

Varric laughed heartily and the two old friends laughed, glad to see each other again, even under such circumstances. Everyone was also having a hard time believing their eyes. The Champion just burst out of one of the eluvians and cut down the enemy down within moments. It was like something out of Varric's unbelievable stories.

"I don't understand. How is it you're here, Champion? How could you have come here?" Cassandra asked disbelievingly.

"Well, as you might know, given how much Varric has told you, Merrill has an eluvian. Been dormant and inactive, even though she repaired it years ago. Imagine my surprise when it suddenly activates right in my basement and a qunari soldier jumps out of it, swinging his weapon like a maniac." Hawke explained. "I told Merrill and Isabella to get Aveline and the others while I investigated. Now, I am here, wherever here is."

"Well, now it looks like you're stuck here with us. That mirror you used looks like it closed behind you." Ranier pointed.

"What? Damn it!" Hawke cursed, rushing over to the mirror that brought him here, and groaned agitatedly to find that it was indeed deactivated. "Grr! Well, I hope you all have a another way out of here. Now can someone please explain to me what in Andraste's holy name is going on?"

"Same shit different detail, Hawke." Varric answered casually. "A dead qunari soldier winds up in the Winter Palace, we found an active mirror, followed it to even more dead qunari, and the we ended up in this ancient elven ruin between dimensions with more dead qunari and hostile elven spirits."

"So it's kind of like a Wednesday even though its Friday?" Hawke surmised.

"Yep, pretty much."

"Given the severity of the situation, I'd say your unexpected arrival is most fortunate. We're probably going to need your sword-arm, Sergeant." Aedan greeted.

"General Cousland? Now, I was certainly not expecting you." Hawke stated. "Burn any cities down today?"

"Not yet, but I am making it a priority."

"The Hero is right Champion. You arrived just when we needed it. And it would seem I owe you my life." Rajmael said graciously. "Thank you."

"Rajmael, what happened to you?" Cassandra asked deeply concerned. "You should have been able to hold your own against that spirit."

"Yeah, after taking a bath in Archdemon fire and killing Corypheus, killing those spirits should have been no problem for you." Iron Bull agreed.

"That thing didn't even touch you and it looked you were in pain." Ranier observed.

Rajmael flexed his left hand and stared at the Anchor in his palm. It was still glowing brightly, but it was no longer causing him any pain. For weeks now the mark had been agitating him, but this was the most extreme it had ever been, and it nearly got him killed. There was no point in keeping it a secret any longer. He explained to his comrades what had been happening to him. How the mark had become more active than it had ever been, becoming more alive. And causing him no end of pain.

"This is most troubling news, Inquisitor." Hawke spoke direly.

"Rajmael...why didn't you say anything?" Cassanra asked, her heart gripped with worry.

"Always knew that damned thing was nothing but trouble." Iron Bull grunted.

"I didn't want anyone to worry." Rajmael answered. "It seemed pointless to bring it up since none of us truly know what this mark is capable of. I thought this was merely a side effect of owning the Anchor. It would seem I was wrong."

"Yeah, but this isn't the first time your mark almost got you killed. Remember what happened back at the Conclave? That thing nearly killed you." Varric reminded, sharing the Seeker's concern. "Solas was the only one who was able to stabilize that thing."

"Who is this Solas?" Aedan asked curiously.

"He was a comrade of ours. Helped us with the Inquisition, then disappeared as soon as Corypheus was killed." Ranier answered.

"I remember Solas." Hawke recalled. "He had the most fascinating theories concerning ancient elven history. Sounds like he's the kind of guy we'd want to have here."

"A mangy elven hedge-mage who thought he knew more about the world because he wasted his days in the Fade." Vivienne said scornfully, still bearing resentment to their former comrade. "He was a tedious and pretentious man, but he was the only one who at least pretended to know anything about that mark. We might have had an actual use for him right now."

"Not to mention he had his head jacked up a thousand years ago." Sera snorted. "Always whining about how elves will never be as great as they used to be. Betch'ya he'd get an instant stiffy if he were standing in this place right now."

"Clearly the only thing that's changed about you in the past two years, Enchanter, is your age." Dorian observed glibly, earning a hateful glare from Vivienne for bringing up the sensitive subject of how old she was. "The way I remember it, it was Solas who stopped the mark from killing the Inquisitor. It was Solas who led us to Skyhold. And it was Solas' knowledge of elven lore that helped us fight Corypheus. And what did you do for the Inquisition, other than kill who you were ordered to kill like a pet dog?"

As much as Rajmael liked seeing Vivienne being verbally whipped, they had more pressing matters to attend to right now. "I wish Solas were here right now. I think he could probably tell us more about this place and its secrets than we could on our own. But right now, we have a mission to complete. We still have to find a way to cross that bridge, and this tower might have the method we seek. You good to join us, Champion?"

"I would be honored even more hostile spirits in a strange dimension with you again, Inquisitor." Hawke smiled. "Besides, it's not like I got much of a choice. I just hope Merrill and Isabella don't freak out now that I won't be going back the way I came."

"Oh, this is gonna be epic!" Varric said barely able to contain his excitement. "Going on an adventure with the Inquisitor, the Hero of Ferelden, and now the Champion of Kirkwall. I might be able to enjoy early retirement off of this story."

~XoXoXo~

The heroes and their companions all began to search around the tower. The qunari made their way here for a reason, and those spirits must have been guarding something. Their means of progressing forward had to be here.

"Let's be careful for any more of those hostile spirits." Ranier warned. "They obviously mistook us for intruders."

"We are intruders." Cole corrected. "We're not ancient elves."

"Inquisitor, over here!" Dorian called urgently around the corner. "I think we found something you might want to see."

Rajmael and the others made their way over to where Dorian was and found the subject of his urgency. It was a massive mosaic made of tiles of varying green colors. The mosaic depicted the visage of a wolf looking over a circle with leaves and rushing water swirling inside it, meant to represent this valley. The mosaic was beautifully crafted and it was still as vibrant as the day it was first made, but its beauty was not what Rajmael was interested in at the moment. There was a sphere of energy glowing in the middle of the mosaic, and he could feel its energy reaching out to the Anchor. It was almost like a Rift, but different. As if the Anchor was meant for this.

Rajmael reached his hand out to the mosaic, and the energies of the mosaic and Anchor connected in a beam of bright green magic. In an instant that felt like moments, Rajmael saw images of elven slaves with the vallaslin marked on their faces arrive in this valley in great numbers. They seemed tired and scared, barely able to carry on. They were greeted by others of their kind, ancient elves with bare faces and welcoming smiles who brought them food and tended to their wounds. The Inquisitor couldn't hear, but actually felt their words resonating inside his mind.

"Fen'heral bids you welcome. Rest, knowing that the Dread Wolf guards you, and his people guard this valley. In this place, you are free. In trusting us, you will never be bound again."

The magic from the mural was consumed, and it disappeared like paint being washed away from a canvas, revealing another eluvian behind it.

"What was that?" Cassandra asked.

"That mosaic...it was like veilfire, revealing truth with the right magic to reveal it." Rajmael answered, trying to wrap his head around what he just witnessed. "It...it claimed that this was a sanctuary for elven slaves. This whole valley was created by the Dread Wolf, Fen'heral to protect those who came here seeking escape."

"They came here in scores, hurting, hungry, desperate. Then he found them, brought them hope and healing. They knew they were safe." Cole spoke out, sensing the emotions of this place. While he was no longer a spirit, Cole still had some of his empathetic powers.

"What? No, that cannot be." Zevran denied in disbelief. "The ancient elves...they had slaves? Well, I suppose no one's perfect. I just always thought we were better than that."

"It would seem that no people's history is without its flaws." Hawke said sympathetically. "I just don't know if I can ever tell this to Merrill. It would break her heart."

Rajmael had already learned of this painful truth two years ago from Abelas in the Temple of Mythal. It was yet another stain on his people's history, but one they had moved on from. What was really bothering Rajmael at the moment was what this mosaic was saying about the Dread Wolf. "This doesn't make any sense. According to everything I know, Fen'heral is the god of misfortune, nightmares and deceit. How could he be the guardian of this place?"

~XoXoXo~

Everyone stepped through the eluvian and were teleported to the upper floor, where they found more evidence of the qunari's presence. It looked like they had used grappling hooks to make their way up here, but something cut their lines. There weren't any here, otherwise they'd all be under attack. Best to be on their guard, just in case there was an ambush somewhere.

They took the stairs further up the tower. When they reached the top of the tower, they found that the qunari had indeed already been here. Their bodies now littered the ground.

"Looks like the qunari found more than they bargained for." Aedan observed.

"Cuts and arrows on the back, no blood on their blades. This was an ambush. These guys never saw it coming." Iron noticed as he inspected the dead soldiers' wounds with his one eye.

"These men haven't been dead long. Their bodies are still warm." Ranier stated, checking for any survivors. "No signs of their attackers."

"I don't see anything, either. That's the problem." Hawke noted cautiously. "No other bodies or evidence of their attack. More of those spirit guardians are waiting for us. Be on your guard."

"Hey, Inquisitor. Another one of those mosaics. Maybe this can give some more answers." Varric pointed.

Rajmael stared intently at the mosaic. Just like the first one, it was a magnificent piece of art and radiated the same ancient magic as the Anchor. It portrayed armed elven slaves carrying spears and shields with an image of the Dread Wolf standing amongst them. Their eyes were fierce and full of purpose. Rajmael raised his hand to it, and let the Anchor reveal the truth behind the picture.

A wave of magic washed over him, and he felt a strange sense of hope well up inside his heart. Images flashed before his eyes like he was dreaming them. Images of a strange man wearing a wolfskin hood standing with a group of freed slaves who looked at him with awe and respect. The hooded figure clasped the arm of another slave in friendship, and the slave showed great honor to his savior. Rajmael felt the words of the mosaic whisper in the back of his mind...

"Fen'heral has been falsely been declared a god by those he wishes to aid, but is as mortal as any of you. He does not claim the mantle of divinity, and asks that none be bestowed upon him. He leads only those who would help by their own free will. Let none be beholden except by choice."

Once again, Rajmael could scarcely believe what he had learned, even as the truth unveiled itself before his eyes. "This...this is Fen'heral...helping former slaves as a mortal. He claimed to them that he was not a god, even though his followers declared otherwise."

Zevran shook his head, also not believing what heard. "Impossible. I know less about the elven gods than I do about farming, but even I know that there's no way the Dread Wolf could ever help anyone."

"Yeah, what he said." Sera agreed, which was surprising to Rajmael. "I mean, Fenny actually helping? No, that's bonkers."

"My, oh my." Dorian chuckled. "Aiding and abetting escaped slaves is a capital offense back in the Imperium, and this man took in hundreds of them. Sounds to me like this Dread Wolf was quite the rebel. I'm sure the elven gods simply loved that."

"It is possible that the Dread Wolf's reputation as a malignant deity might have been propaganda by the other so-called elven gods." Vivienne suggested.

"He wanted to stand with his fellows as one of them, not above them. Like any good leader should." Ranier said respectfully.

"Maybe. But you don't get called a god by a lot of people by not having the power to make them think that." Iron Bull said insightfully.

"You don't get a name like Dread Wolf by being an altruistic healer." Aedan stated, knowing the power a reputation can wield. "This guy must have wielded some serious power and strength to make people think he was a god."

"If any of this is true, and he was such a benevolent being, why do all modern elves vilify his as the great enemy of their people?" Hawke asked inquisitively. "Hard to trust the words of a person who for thousands of years has been reviled as a great deceiver."

"But from what we're learning here, it seems the Dread Wolf went to great lengths to deny his supposed divinity." Cassandra reminded. "He didn't want the people he freed to worship him."

Varric couldn't help but smile at the details he was noticing. "Hm. A guy with immense power who aids those who've got none, then denies being any kind of divine even though people are singing prayers about him. Sounds like another powerful elf we know."

"Do not compare me to the Dread Wolf!" Rajmael growled in his throat, disgusted at the comparison. "To have anything in common with the Fen'heral is to be anathema to the people. Now, let's go. We still have to get a across that bridge."

Rajmael's once pious faith in the elven gods had been deeply shaken since meeting Flemeth and learning the truth about Mythal, but in his heart, he still wanted to believe in their greatness. He still held on to that flame of truth that he would be proven wrong, and he refused to be convinced by words that praised a god whose very venue was deception.

The mosaic melted away to reveal a hidden entrance into the tower. The inside was dim, barely lit by torches of veilfire, and left in ruins. Ancient columns and parts of the wall now littered the floor after many centuries of neglect, but the tower still held firmly. As they navigated further into the depth of the tower, the corridor became darker, and the veilfire weaker, until they were walking in complete darkness.

However, they could still see light glimmering faintly through the darkness, guiding them towards it like a beacon. A beacon of green light. It lead them to another mosaic, glowing like a green bonfire in this dark depths of this tower. This one's magic was the most alluring so far, almost like it was shouting out to the Anchor. This mosaic depicted a circle of chains around marked elven faces and eight shrouded entities were drawing power from it. Once again Rajmael saw the images of the past and felt its voice speaking to him.

His heart filled with a bitter fury, just like the one he felt when he first met Flemeth in the Fade. He saw images of elven mages enslaving tens of thousands of their own kind. They stood above their enslaved thralls making arrogant proclamations to them, claiming to godliness, and demanding worship. The voice of the mosaic speak to him in bitter outrage.

"The gods, our Evanuris, claim divinity, yet they are naught but powerful in magic and can die as you can. In this place, we teach those who join us to unravel their lies."

Rajmael was so overcome with shock, he felt as though his a breeze could knock him over. Once again, he felt that horrible sensation of betrayal and outrage stabbing his heart like a burning knife. It was the same anger that Eva felt towards him, and now his soul was filled to the brim with it. He leaned against a wall, trying to find some sort of explanation, an argument to convince himself of that these images were lies. But he couldn't, there was no hint of falsehood in what he had seen.

"No...this cannot be..." Rajmael denied, deeply crestfallen.

"Rajmael, what's wrong?" Cassandra asked deeply concerned. She had never seen him this upset, even when Sera insulted him back in Skyhold.

"This mosaic it...it claims...that the elven Creators, our gods...were false." Each word felt like a burning coal in Rajmael's throat as he spoke them. "They were merely Evanuris...powerful but mortal mages posing as gods."

"It was almost like these former slaves were being untaught what they had learned. Being formed into a rebellion." Said Ranier.

"This Fen'heral must have been gathering these freed elves to rise up against their former masters. Teaching them how to begin an uprising." Cassandra added.

"If that's true, then he was using this place to rebuild the slaves' confidence. Teach them how to get rid of old habits. How to hate the people who put them on their knees." Iron Bull stated. As a former Ben'hesrath, he knew about this sort of conditioning.

"Interesting word, Evanuris." Dorian commented. "If all it means is 'mage-leader', well, the elven gods were basically Magisters."

Rajmael cringed and his blood boiled on instinct at hearing anything of his people's history being compared to the likes of the Tevinter Magisters who enslaved and ruined his people. However, if any of this was true, it was nearly impossible to deny those similarities.

"Fen'heral, Thane Shartan, the Dalish. It would seem that the true legacy of the elves is rebelling against those who try to enslave us." Zevran stated grimly.

"If this is true, and Fen'heral was trying to free the elven people, why do the elves consider him to be their great nemesis?" Hawke asked curiously. "All myth, no matter how farfetched, is based in truth."

Aedan snorted with great disinterest in everyone's curiosity on the matter. "You see? This is why I'm an atheist. No matter which god you worship, they're always nothing but disappointments."

Rajmael wrestled with the conflict of emotions burning inside him. He thought he had made peace with the fallibility of the Creators after discovering the truth about Mythal. How she and Flemeth were one and the same being. That their Great Protector was nothing more than an infamous witch with a reputation for stealing children. How so many elves had prayed to for protection and died for their faith only to be ignored by the very god they gave their lives to.

Now Rajmael was learning that not only was Mythal a failure as a god, but that she and all the Creators, were no gods at all, merely powerful mages. Mages that had enslaved them. The history of his people, the legacy they so ardently revered and tried so desperately to preserve, was no different than that of Tevinter.

Rajmael pushed his internal conflict out of his mind. Now was not the time to let his emotions and personal problems distract him.

The Inquisitor walked through the passage that opened behind the mosaic. It was a strange, isolated chamber, filled with the same magic as the Anchor. Four statues of elven archer with solemn faces pointing their arrows towards an altar with a wolf idol sitting on top of it. The idol sat beneath an artificially crafted elven tree, that was hanging upside down from the roof. The tree was crackling with green magic, like lightning caught in its branches. Rajmael felt the Anchor reaching out to it, and his hand lifted outwards as though it had a mind of its own.

The green lightning from the strange tree shot into Rajmael's hand, and was absorbed by the Anchor. The mark flared like a torch in Rajmael's palm and crackled with renewed energy like Rajmael had never felt before. Once all the magic had been absorbed, the chamber was left in complete darkness.

"Ah!" Rajmael cried more in surprise than in pain.

"Are you alright?" Cassandra asked in the shadows.

"I...I don't know. Lately, it feels like I have no control over this thing. I think...it just absorbed whatever ancient magic was laying dormant here." Rajmael clenched his fist and felt a new sensation from the Anchor in his palm, like it was full to the brim with excess magic. He could feel it charging in his hand. Rajmael channeled his will through the mark to discharge the excess energy, which made the mark glow brightly, lighting the room up like he had a torch in his hands.

"Well, glad to see that thing still has some uses." Ranier commented, glad to be out of the dark.

"Look at that idol on the altar." Dorian pointed to the wolf figurine. "It looks like it'll fit that pedestal to activate the bridge."

"Great, yeah? Let's just get it and get out of this creepy place." Sera insisted.

"Five sovereigns says that the instant we remove that thing, something's going to jump out and kill us." Varric wagered half-sarcastically.

Rajmael carefully inspected the statuette on the pedestal, making sure that it wasn't rigged before even touching it. When he was satisfied that nothing ill would happen, he gently removed the wolf figure from its resting place. The light from his hand died, and they were once again in darkness. He charged the mark again to illuminate the dark chamber. The light revealed nearly a dozen spirit-assassins standing in the dark, their blades drawn, ready to slay the intruders, just as they did the qunari who trespassed here.

"Holy shit!" Varric shouted in surprise at discovering they were suddenly surrounded. He grabbed Bianca and fired exploding shot from her at the assailants.

"Get back to back, don't let them flank you!" Hawke shouted. Even with the light from the Inquisitor's mark illuminating the chamber, these assassins could still hide in the shadows. At this point in his life, there wasn't much of anything Hawke hadn't faced down and killed. He had fought spirits and assassins on numerous occasions, but never spirit-assassins, that was new. Nonetheless, these were still spirits, and spirits, while powerful, were not adaptable. And assassins, spirit or otherwise, could only attack from two distances: at long range or up close. And in such close quarters, these assassins were using daggers. Hawke knew what to do. Hawke used the Celebrant's reach to strike out at the spirit-assassin's before they could get too close to him. Lunging with it like a spear and impaling them like strips of incorporeal meat. The powerful enchantments Sandal inscribed on the blade dissipated several of the spirits like they were made of smoke.

Sera and Varric stayed behind the others to try and pick their shots and shoot the hostile spirits before they tried anything. Varric threw some of his homemade land mines in their direction, and watched it explode like fireworks when one of them stepped on it and took out three of their fellows with it. Sera grabbed on of her elemental vials, and instead of smashing it on her clothing, because she didn't want to be any where near those things, she threw her vial at them. When the glass smashed on one of their ghostly heads, it lit up like a bon fire, and splattered on to a couple more.

Cassandra, Ranier and Iron Bull followed the Champion's advice and kept their backs to one another, so that they wouldn't get dirked from behind like the qunari did. Cassandra used her abilities as a Seeker to weaken the magic that gave these spirits form, but not to the effect she had expected. These spirits were ancient, and their connection to this place was strong. She weakened the spirits just enough to stun them, but that brief pause was more than for her, Ranier and Iron Bull to cut, cleave and smash the spirits down.

Zeveran and Cole were completely at home in dark and out of sight. They knew exactly how to slip into the shadows and be utterly unnoticed by their enemies. Zevran because of his elite training as an Antivan Crow, an occupation he was the best in. Cole, because that was how he carried out his purpose as a spirit, so that he could take people's pain away. With the enemy so focused on the mages and the warriors, Zevran and Cole were able to slip unnoticed by them, and used their very sharp and well-used knives to stab the spirit-assassin's in their backs before slipping back into the shadows. This would help keep their comrades from being overwhelmed as well as hobble their enemy's focus.

The Imperial Enchanter and the Tevinter Ambassador were as different as any two mages could be. They both hailed from two different empires that despised one another, and were the seats of two completely different forms of Andrastianism. And they both utilized opposite forms of magic. Vivienne wielded ice while Dorian commanded fire, but together, these two masterful mages could devastate any enemy. The two mages used their magic to keep the enemy at bay and prevent them from overwhelming them and their comrades. Vivienne set up ice-wards around them, that froze the assassins solid the instant they set foot on them. With the enemy frozen, Dorian was able to pick them off with massive fireballs that shattered them apart and melted them into nothing. Despite their outwards dislike for one another, Dorian and Vivienne were a very capable pair, if they could get past their monumental differences.

Most people thought of the great-axe as a barbaric, unrefined, unruly weapons, but in the hands of a master warrior, like Aedan, it was the most devastating and fearsome of all instruments of death. The Hero swung his ugly weapon with such devastating force and incredible speed, the assassins were unable to with stand the onslaught. Instead, he charged the spirit-assassins with full force, bringing his gruesome axe down on them with all his might. The force of the blow was so strong it split the ground and sent some of the spirit assassins flying backwards. One by one, each of the spirits that dared to even try to get near Aedan was cleaved apart by Aedan's axe like pieces of kindling.

Rajmael's Shimmering Shield gleamed around him like an aura of protection, and his sword lit like a bonfire of white flame in the darkness. The Inquisitor's training as an Arcane Warrior and his mastery over that discipline heightened his senses and awareness to a degree most would consider unnatural. He could feel where the assassins were going to attack him, and was able to deflect and counter their attempts on him flawlessly. To watch the Inquisitor fight was like watching a well-choreographed play, but now it was time to draw the curtains on this play. Rajmael thrusted his sword above his head like he was stabbing at the air, and arcs of lightning discharged from the tip of his blade, hitting the remaining spirits and stunning them like flies caught in a web. With the enemy stunned, Rajmael dashed past each of them within the blink of an eye, and cut each of them down with a single stroke from his sword. The spirits disappeared into nothing.

With these guardians dispatched, it was time to get back on track. There was still the qunari to deal with.

~XoXoXo~

With the wolf statuette in hand, Rajmael and the others made their way back to the submerged bridge and placed the figurine on the broken pedestal. The idol fit like a key in a lock and raised the bridge from the lake, allowing them to cross over to the island temple where they saw the qunari fighting those spirits. It looked as if the qunari were trying to set up camp here, but taken by surprise by the spirit guarding this place. The camp was in flames and dead qunari littered the ground. They searched around for anything they could find that could give them answers.

As they searched amongst the ruined camp and dead bodies, Rajmael found a charred note that barely survived the fires that consumed this area. Half of it was gone, but the rest was legible, which was strange in of itself. Why would it be written in the common tongue instead of qunlat? Rajmael looked at the note closely and read it aloud to his fellows.

" ...struck the tower, a great sizzling bolt out of a blue sky. Afterward, spirits emerged from a statue of a wolf, as if the lightning woke them, and they appeared to be looking for someone. The only word I understood was "Fen'Harel." They did not see me, but beware, for they attack any guards who..."

"Sounds like they got more than they bargained for when they arrived here." Ranier commented.

"Something awoke them. Ages upon ages in peaceful slumber, but always waiting, watching, standing ready. This was their post, their duty, and they continued to guard it." Cole spoke.

"If they're making notes on how to occupy this place, it means there's probably more of them coming here." Zevran pointed out.

"This is strange. Why would someone write this warning in our language? Would it not make more sense to write it in qunlat?" Rajmael inquired.

"What I want to know is why in the Maker's name are the qunari even here, or even using these magic mirrors in the first place." Hawke stated curiously.

"Perhaps even the qunari can see the value of unlocking the knowledge and secrets of this place." Cassandra suggested.

"The qunari never seek knowledge to unlock it, only to control and wield it, Seeker." Dorian informed. "Something that we in Tevinter have learned the hard way."

"The qunari waste nothing, it's true, but this goes against everything I thought I knew about them." Hawke responded. "The qunari hate magic as something unnatural and beyond their control. And anything they can't control, they put on a leash. If they can't be leashed, they're lobotomized. And if lobotomy doesn't work, they destroy it."

"Yeah, that usually is standard procedure." Iron Bull agreed as if such measures weren't extreme. "I sure as shit would never have guessed that any qunari would ever use these weird mirror things. I would have expected them to just smash all the ones they could find."

"Guess the qunari are filled with more surprises than we thought." Varric commented. "And here I thought the only thing they could do was invade other places, and do everything they could to suck the fun out of everything."

"The magic here is dangerous, I would have thought a people who strive for pragmatism would at least set up more protective measures." Vivienne criticized casually.

"If these horn-heads don't like weird magically things with the spirits and the mirrors, what the frick is they even doin' here?" Sera asked belligerently.

Aedan's eyes went over to the elven castle and his lips curled into a disturbing grin. "Well, why don't we go over there and ask them?"

A squad of qunari soldiers emerged from the elven castle and fell into formation. Warriors with large tower shield in front with spear throwers in the back, and rogues at the flanks. They were here for a fight.

"Vashedan! The Inquisition does not leave this place alive!" The qunari officer ordered. "Ataash qunari!"

The qunari obeyed the order and attacked in full force. The warriors lobbed grenades at them from behind their tower shields, and the spearmen threw their lances with devastating speed accuracy. Vivienne cast an ice spell that froze the grenades in mid-air while Hawke and Rajmael deflected the spears thrown at them. Aedan caught the spear thrown at him with his bare hands, then threw it back at one of the qunari soldiers. The spear flew straight through the soldier's shield, the soldiers body, then impaled the qunari who first threw it.

A sadistic grin spread across the Hero's face as he held his gruesome axe ready. Aedan Cousland had spent most of his adult life in combat and shedding blood, and at this point, there was nary a thing in Thedas that he hadn't killed, executed or mutilated. Despite the fact he rarely ever left Ferelden, his capacity for violence made him infamous throughout all of Thedas. However, qunari were something that he rarely encountered outside of his days during the Blight with the Sten. Now he finally had the chance to test the mettle of this formidable enemy. Time to find out if they were really the plague Tevinter claimed them to be.

Aedan charged the qunari down with a blood-curdling cry from his maw. Their shields may as well have been made out of paper for all the good they did against the raw power of his dragonbone axe. He swung his weapon in a wide arc at their midsections, and the crescent blade of his axe easily sliced through their flesh and ripped their intestines right out of their bodies. One of the rogues tried to pounce him from behind; Aedan caught her by the throat and snapped her trachea in one movement, killing her before her body hit the ground. The last one tried falling back to the castle ruin, but didn't get very far: Aedan threw his great-axe right at his head and cleaved deeply into his chest.

The Hero walked up to the body of the qunari he just killed and got his axe back. So far, he wasn't very impressed with these qunari.

To say that some of them were a little stunned at seeing what the Hero just did would be short-selling it. It was one thing to hear of Aedan's capacity for violence, it was another thing entirely to see him apply it. Rajmael and Dorian had already seen what the Hero of Ferelden was capable of in that nightmarish future that Alexius sent them to, but this Aedan was different. Instead of being filled with anguish and loss, this one was fueled by purpose, and it was a bloody one.

"There's more of them inside. We must press the attack!" Rajmael shouted.

"Good! This beats political delegations any day of the week!" Aedan laughed.

All of them charged into the ancient temple, and sure enough, there were indeed more qunari waiting for them, and they weren't alone. Just like their slain compatriots outside, they were already engaged in heated combat with the spirits that guarded this place. This would be a three sided battle, with only one winner. Unlike the qunari, Rajmael and everyone with him, had faced spirits and demons before, and they fought things far worse than the qunari. There could only be one outcome to this skirmish.

Rajmael, Dorian, and Vivienne rained down lightning, fire and ice on their enemies with their magic while all the warriors pressed the attack. Varric and Sera used their arrows to pick off any stragglers that tried falling back, while Zevran and Cole attacked from the flanks. The spirits and qunari were so preoccupied with each other, that neither side could brace for the attacks that slammed into their blindside. Like a hammer smacking an anvil and smashing it to pieces. Within a mere matter of moments, both the qunari soldier and the spirit guardians were slain.

With the enemy dispatched, everyone now had a moment to catch their breath.

"Anybody wanna tell me just what the hell that was all about?" Varric asked.

"Those qunari attacked 'the Inquisition' on sight. They were targeting us specifically." Rajmael pointed out.

"Qunari never act without orders. A very high-ranking member within the Qun ordered this. Only their leaders can authorize an expedition like this." Cassandra stated factually.

"I don't think so. They weren't Tal-Vashoth, that's for sure." Iron Bull interjected, knowing more about the Tal-Vashoth and the Qun than any of them. "This might be a rogue group, but they think they're serving the Qun."

"Looks like fanatics suck ass no matter which religion they follow." Aedan said sarcatically.

"What kind of place is this?" Zevran inquired curiously, gazing at the architecture around them.

"From the looks of it, I'd say it's some kind of a temple, or a church." Hawke observed, looking at the well-preserved ruin.

When looking at the interior of this place, one could see that it indeed have the same trappings and appearance as a place of worship. Even in this state of disrepair and all the blood and dead bodies laying around, there was an air of tranquility to this place. Like you could just leave your problems at the doorstep and find peace here."

When looking at the interior of this place, one could see that it indeed have the same trappings and appearance as a place of worship. Even in this state of disrepair and all the blood and dead bodies laying around, there was an air of tranquility to this place. Like you could just leave your problems at the doorstep and find peace here."

"What would the point of a place like this be if the Dread Wolf was trying get the slaves to abandon their notions of worshiping the false the gods?" Dorian asked.

"This may have been where Fen'heral did just that." Hawke answered, still taking in his surroundings. "Maybe this wasn't a temple of faith, but a place of learning. Where Fen'heral inspired the freed slaves to forget what they had learned. The first step to discarding any form of slavery is learning how to think for yourself."

"Hey, I found ancient piece of art over here. Maybe this can shed some light." Zevran called from atop the nearby stairs.

Rajmael and the others went over to Zevran, and found a magnificently carved elven statue of a wolf laying down. It had an almost meditative look carved on its face and exhumed the same air of tranquility as the rest of the temple. Its eyes were gazing at a nearby wall with a perfectly preserved mural painted on it. It was elven fresca, almost exactly the same style that Solas painted back in Skyhold's rotunda, and it showed no signs of age or decay. The mural depicted a hooded figure wearing a wolfskin cloak and carrying a staff removing the vallaslin from the elves who arrived in this valley.

"Is that the Dread Wolf removing Dalish blood-writing?" Zevran asked incredulously.

"I don't think so. This place far predates the Dales." Aedan reminded.

"Solas once told me that there were ancient elven rebels who knew a spell to remove the vallaslin from escaped elven slaves." Rajmael informed. "This must be Fen'heral removing the last vestiges of their slavery from them. Solas once offered to take mine away."

"Tch. Then why didn't you just take it?" Sera asked skeptically. "The Dalish have been gettin' their facts wrong forever, why keep doing something stupid."

Rajmael glared poisoned daggers at Sera, a final warning for her to watch her tone about how she spoke of his people. Sera got the hint, remembered Rajmael's promise, and detracted her attitude.

"You do not discard history simply because it isn't as perfect as you want it to be." Rajmael spoke sternly. "My people have moved on from the mistakes of our ancestors, and we wear the vallaslin as a symbol of who we are, and our dedication to the Path. My mark and the Path I have chosen is the one of knowledge and the truth it reveals. As far as I'm concerned, wearing the vallaslin with pride makes us greater than the elves of Arlathan."

"A wise most wise answer, Inquisitor." Aedan chuckled, tracing the blue tattooing on his own face. "I dare say you and I have more in common than I thought."

Rajmael didn't know whether to be honored or disturbed by what the Hero just admitted. He decided to take it as a compliment. After all, how many men in Thedas had earned the Hero of Ferelden's respect like this. Such a shame it would still have no bearing in the Exalted Council.

"You think we might find some answers amongst these ancient pieces of art?" Ranier asked. "There's got to be something here that can tell us what the qunari were after. They had to have come in here for something."

Ranier had a point. The Qunari wouldn't have pressed into this temple and engage the guardians here they way they did unless their was something they wanted. Something they were looking for. Rajmael looked back over to the statue of the wolf and noticed the tablet inscribed before it. There was writing carved into the table that Rajmael barely recognized, yet could see as clearly as daylight. It was written in an ancient elven text, and he could barely recognize the symbols, yet as he looked intently at the inscriptions, it looked as if the words were rearranging themselves so that he might understand them.

Rajmael read the words aloud as they appeared before his eyes...

"The Dread Wolf keeps its gaze on the one light that illuminates the way forward."

"Strange that I can read that." The Inquisitor noted curiously.

"This place has been dormant, inactive, asleep, for too long. They want to be seen, recognized by one of the People." Cole answered insightfully.

"It must be like the Crossroads. This place reacts differently to elves." Dorian deduced.

"That's well and all, but what does this ancient piece of poetry supposed mean?" Zevran asked.

"It's a riddle. Leave it to a god of trickery to hide a doorway behind conundrums and metaphors." Rajmael sighed wearily.

Thanks to Rajmael's elven eyes, the riddle was able to reveal more than it kept hidden. The Inquisitor looked at the statue of the wolf, and noticed that its tranquil eyes were gazing forward at one of the unlit torches lined up in front of the mural. The wolf was staring at one torch in particular. The one beneath the painted image of Fen'heral removing a slave's vallaslin.

Rajmael raised his hand to the torch and used his magic to light it with veilfire. A loud ringing like a bell gonged through the temple and a gently glowing green light lit up in the wolf's eyes. The platform of the statue moved aside revealing a hidden passage below the wolf. The light from the Dread Wolf's gaze truly lit the way.

They cautiously walked down the steps hidden below the Dread Wolf's feet, and at the bottom of the steps they found another mosaic glowing with green magic. This one depicted bare-faced elves lifting swords up high with Fen'heral looking down on them. The Inquisitor raised his marked hand and connected the magic of the Anchor with the mosaic to unlock the secrets it held.

Rajmael saw the images of former slaves in ranks with Fen'Harel, armed and strong. Their skin is clear; their face tattoos, the elven vallaslin, is gone. He felt the voices and emotions of the past fill him up inside like a pitcher of water as the wall disappeared before him.

"The brand of the Evanuris can be lifted from you, that all may know you oppose their cruelties. None here are slaves. All are under our protection. All may choose to fight."

The mosaic revealed another hidden room behind it. A secret chamber filled with arms and armor of magnificent and ancient elven design. Entire suits of armor, bows, swords and spears, ready to be used. Aside from all the dust and webs that covered them, these instruments of war still looked as shard as the day they were forged.

"Hidden weapons. These freed slaves actually fought back against the Evanuris posing as gods." Rajmael realized.

"It would seem that escaping the Evanuris wasn't enough. They wanted to free their whole empire from the false gods, and were willing to go to war for it." said Cassandra.

"If these elven slaves were anything like the elves of today, I don't blame 'em." Ranier added. "They wanted their freedom, and probably some payback."

"They wanted a better life, free from pain and sorrow. And we willing to fight for it." Cole spoke out.

"It would seem that no matter what era, past or present, elves are always rebelling against their oppressors." Zevran commented. "Perhaps modern elves have more in common with our ancestors than we thought."

"Ugh. No! I do not wanna think that." Sera shuddered, trying to ignore the Antivan Crow's comparison.

"If this valley was so well hidden, the escaped slaves could have lived in peace, but instead chose to fight back. What a romantic notion." said Vivienne.

"Tch. Like you care." Sera scoffed. "Like you treat your servants any better."

"My dear Sera, any servant under my employ is well compensated for their service."

"Yeah, you would think they like being treated like that." Sera said with disgust.

"Back in Tevinter, slave rebellions are more common than most think or would admit, but they are always put down hard. The Magisterium always quickly bands to put down 'sedition'." Dorian informed. "The Evanuris probably would have done the same thing. The Fen'heral must have been a cunning and tenacious bastard to coordinate the freed slaves against them."

"Huh. A great leader frees slaves, leads them against their oppressors who pose as gods, gets elevated to the status of Divine, and shakes the very foundations of a mighty empire." Varric listed observingly. "I dare say this Dread Wolf sounds an awful lot like Andraste herself."

"Well, in any event, I think it's safe to say that they both failed." Iron Bull stated. "Last I checked, elves are still the punching bag of Thedas, and Tevinter never fell. Rebellions are meaningless unless you actually win."

"Well, it certainly wasn't for a lack of trying. Look what these elves had to work with." Aedan grabbed one of the ancient swords of its rack. It was a single-edged sword made of some kind of green material. The Hero gave it a few test swings, making the blade whistle as it cut the air, then threw it at a nearby wall. The blade cut straight through the stone and went half way into the wall like it was made of paper. "I've seen and wielded every kind of ore and material used to make weapons, from steel to dragonbone, but I have never seen a metal like this before. What the hell did these elves use to make their weapons?"

"It's not sylvanwood, I can tell you that." Rajmael responded.

"I don't believe it...Sweet Maker, it must be..." Hawke said excitedly as he grabbed another ancient sword and placed it on a nearby table. There was an excited look in his eyes, like a child on Wintersend Morning. "This...this is Veil Quartz!"

"Veil quartz? I don't think that's a stone I've ever heard of, Hawke. And work with the Mining Caste with the Merchant's Guild." Varric said curiously.

"My father told me about it. Said that there was a type of crystal native only to the Fade, one that mages encounter whenever they dream that can strengthen them while they're their." Hawke explained enthusiastically as he examined the blade. "We saw plenty of it when we were in the Fade back at Adamant."

"That's what those strange crystals were?" Varric recalled. "Shit, if I knew they were that rare, I would have nabbed some and sold it to the Merchant's guild, or even the Circle."

"How can you tell that it's veil quartz, aside from it being a strange green metal?" Dorian asked curiously.

Hawke reached into his pouch and pulled out a vial of blue glowing liquid that seemed to give of a faint hum, it had to be lyrium. The Champion poured a few drops on the elven blade and it absorbed the lyrium like a plant with water. The blade began humming a song that they could all hear and feel in the back of their minds, like a soothing tingling sensation.

"The song! I had almost forgotten it." Cole said joyously. When he was a spirit, he could hear the tune that lyrium gave off. "I should try to teach it to Maryden. I think she would like it."

"How is it your father knew about Veil Quartz, Champion?" Vivienne asked, genuinely impressed.

"My father was a very accomplished mage. More so than most would think." Hawke answered proudly.

"Look at all these weapons. If Veil Quartz is as rare as you claim, Champion, how is it that the elves were able to outfit so many with it?" Ranier wondered.

"Hmm. I recall Solas once saying that our sojourn into the Fade was the second only the second one accomplished in human history." Dorian recalled. "At the time, I thought he was just being his usual reticent self, but perhaps he was letting me in on a piece of history none of us would have believed. Perhaps the ancient elves frequented the Fade and harvested the Veil Quartz there? Like how dwarves mine lyrium."

"Mortal journeying in and out of the Fade? No, that's not possible. Both times that was done in human history, it was a catastrophe." Cassandra denied. "Even the ancient elves couldn't have been that foolish."

"Solas certainly liked to pretend that he knew everything there was about old secrets, and then act as if the never posed any harm." Vivienne recalled contentiously. "I wonder how much of it he discovered in distorted dreams and the rest he simply made up."

"Like you would know what real truth is, Vivienne." Rajmael spoke out on Solas' behalf. "You just couldn't stand the fact that he was an apostate that stood on equal ground with you, if not higher. With these eluvians, my ancestors could probably travel anywhere they wanted. But if that's the case, then what the hell is the point of this Anchor? Why would this thing be needed to rip the Veil if the ancient elves could just use the eluvians?"

"Maybe we'll find those answers further ahead. We still have the qunari to deal with, and we need to find out what they are doing with the eluvians." Aedan reminded.

~XoXoXo~

Everyone walked further down the stairway, deeper into the hidden armory. Someone was definitely here; torches were lit and there were footprints disturbing all the dust. Many footprints. They came upon a massive forge where more of the ancient weapons and armor were housed, along with ancient bunks and sleeping quarters. This place was some kind of ancient barracks that the elven rebels used to house their weapons and soldiers. Despite being abandoned for countless centuries, it was in excellent condition; even the forges were still lit And currently standing in this ancient barrack, was an active eluvian, along with a squadron of a well-armed qunari warriors. And they looked very unhappy.

"The Inquisition. Kill them all! Ataash qunari!" The Sten of this squad commanded, holding his immense axe above his head.

"If they want a fight, they've got one. No quarter!" Rajmael ordered to his comrades. All of them readily obliged.

"Take out their officers! Don't let them coordinate the fight!" Hawke yelled to the others.

It had been too damned long since Varric fought at Hawke's side since the battle at Adamant Fortress. Despite being surrounded by qunari soldiers again, and spirits trying to kill them, Varric couldn't help but be excited. This was probably the most fun he was going to have until he had to resume his mind-numbingly tedious duties as Viscount. So he was going to try and enjoy every moment of this.

Following Hawke's instructions, Varric aimed Bianca and began picking off the officers in charge. It wasn't difficult to spot them. They were the ones with the more outstanding armor and vicious-looking weapons. These oxemen may have had some pretty damned good protection against most weapons, but there was no protection from Bianca once she had her sights set on you.

While Iron Bull enjoyed watching other people kick some serious ass, he was never one to be a spectator when being a participant was a lot more fun. He charged down his former qunari, bellowing at the top of his lungs, swinging his immense axe with all his might. This karataam had some really good training, and it was obvious they'd seen plenty of action before being assigned here. But Iron Bull went through Seheron and Corypheus, these guys were pansies compared to what he's been doing for the past few years.

"Parshara! Kill the Tal-Vashoth!" One of the soldiers yelled before Iron Bull lodge his axe into his brain.

"Come a little closer, and give it a shot." The Tal-Vashoth mercenary dared. More than a few of the qunari took that challenge, only to be mauled by The Bull.

Zevran harried the qunari by dashing past them and striking at their flanks and blind spots. Hard to fight against other opponents when your arteries are opened and your tendons are severed. Three qunari soldiers armed with spears got tired of the former Antivan Crow assaulting their brethren, and decided to kill him themselves. Zevran was armed only with daggers, and these rather large and very angry-looking Qunari looked very good at using their spears. Thankfully, fighting dirty was Zevran's specialty.

With a cocky grin on his face, Zevran threw one of his daggers at the spearman nearest to him. The soldier was apparently as fast as he was large, and caught the dagger in his hand with his quick reflexes, but failed to catch or even see the smoke bomb Zevran threw alongside his dagger. The bomb blew up in the qunari's face, filling his eyes with smoke, crushed glass and metal shaving. The soldier screamed in blind agony and rage, swinging his spear wildly and almost hitting his own companions.

This worked out just as Zevran had hoped. He dodged the wild swings of the qunar's spear and got really close to him. Close enough to redirect him towards his own comrades with a powerful shove. The other qunari caught their blinded brother, failing to realize that Zevran had used his quick, nimble fingers to light up the blackpowder grenades that guy was carrying. The grenades and exploded and killed all three qunari spearman in a ball of fire that sent their body part flying all over the room. Zevran just loved to fight dirty.

Fighting in such tight places was never a good idea for an archer, but these qunari never fought someone as unpredictable as Sera. She heard these qunari guys didn't like the cold, so she smashed one of her Flasks of Frost on her jerkin, covering herself in a protective armor of ice. The qunari froze themselves solid just from trying to get close to her and backed away to adjust their tactics. Not giving them any time to think, Sera shot at them with her special explosive arrows. The qunari were shot, then blown to pieces, with Sera laughing at the flying bits.

Dorian had lived under the threat of the qunari his entire life. Growing up in Minrathous, there was a constant worry that one day their defenses would fail them and the soldiers of the Antaam would come pouring into their capital. It was a concern that was largely ignored, even by him. Now it seemed like the qunari were trying to make a push into the South, but Dorian wasn't going to ignore it this time.

The others had already slain members of this karataam, making Dorian job so much easier. In more ways than one. Dorian focused his will towards the dead qunari soldiers and summoned several minor wisps bound to his will to take hold of their bodies. The dead qunari rose back up, grabbing their weapons and began fighting against their former comrades.

"The Tevinter sarebaas has defiled our brothers!" One of the qunari shouted in furious outrage.

"Their husks do not matter. If you want to honor them, slay them again, then the sarebaas!" A karasten ordered.

Dorian knew these revitalized corpses possessed by minor spirits wouldn't stand a chance against highly trained qunari soldiers, and he really didn't want those qunari to do what he knew they did to Tevinter sarebaas. Which is why Dorian planted several Virulent Spirit Bombs in the qunari bodies when the wisps took control of them. Within a matter of seconds, all the qunari exploded in blast of spirit energy that sundered them all to pieces. Dorian couldn't help but smile at his handiwork. His mother used to tell him that he'd never stand a chance against the qunari.

Hawke had fought the soldiers the Antaam had to offer on more than one occasion back in Kirkwall, before he killed the Arishok. Therefore he knew that they were not to be underestimated. The soldiers of the qun were highly disciplined, rigorously trained, and existed for nothing else except war, for that was the only thing the Qun allowed them to know. And that strength was their weakness. Their training was inflexible, did not allow them to adapt to other styles that might exist outside their parameters, making their combat prowess formidable, but stale. They were unused to fighting combatants whose training encompassed various fighting techniques, and that was their weakness.

Hawke developed his fighting style from years of fighting every kind of enemy one could think of. From bandits to soldier, demons and bloodmages, he fought them all and survived not because he was the better fighter, but because he was a better tactician when it came to combat. His father taught him how to think, especially when it came to combat, and it was this ability to out-maneuver and out-think his enemies that made him a dangerous combatant. And have the best equipment coupled with Sandal's powerful enchantment's helped, too.

The Champion used the Celebrant to cut through the shields and break their weapons. Thanks to the range of his sword, the soldier were unable to get close enough to hit him before Hawke cut them down. The Sten, a high-ranking soldier in the Baresaad, with a brutal war axe managed to block Hawke's attack. The runes on the edge of Hawke's came to life, engulfing the Celebrant in flames. The karasten's axe was lit on fire, and within a matter of seconds, so was the karasten. A couple of rogues managed to slip past the reach of his sword, and stabbed at Hawke with their daggers. Their blades bent against the surface of Hawke's armor like they were made of tin. Sandal's enchantments were truly one of a kind. Hawke cut the rogues down with a single swipe of his sword. The Champion moved on from the fight, leaving a pile of dismembered, burning bodies behind. It was almost like his usual days back in Kirkwall.

Aedan was monumentally disappointed with this battle. Not because of the Champion of the Inquisitor's companions, but because it was so brief, and not all of them got to do any of the fighting. Most of them just resorted to blowing up the qunari through whatever means were convenient. It was amazing what someone could do with the right explosives. He was going to have to remember the lyrium bombs he kept in his satchel.

There was one last qunari standing, and he made a break for the nearby eluvian to escape capture and death. Aedan deftly threw his hunting knife at the qunari and lodged it in his leg, right down to the bone. Aedan strode on over to the crippled, bleeding qunari, who tried to swing his sword at the Hero. Aedan stomped on the qunari's hand, crushing it beneath his boot, then kicked him so hard in the face he shattered the qunari's teeth. Aedan then grabbed the qunari soldier by his horn with his vice-like grip, and dragged him over to the nearby forge, shoving his face dangerously close to the flames.

"Inquisitor, if you've got questions you think this piece of shit can answer, I'd ask them now." Aedan suggested. "Otherwise, I'm gonna roast this piece of shit like a side of beef."

Not wanting to test the Hero's patience, and eager for answers, Rajmael quickly approached the remaining qunari. "What are the qunari doing here? Why did you attack us? What plans do you have at the Winter Palace?"

"Ebost esala, Sarebaas! Itwa-raas! Itwa-ost!" The qunari spat hatefully through broken teeth at the Inquisitor.

"Translation please, Bull?"

"Basically, he said, 'Your soul is dust, mage. You are nothing. You are going to die.', Boss." Iron Bull interpreted.

"So...he basically said, 'fuck you'?" Aedan deduced.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Well, then, if you're going to be like that..." Aedan shoved the qunari's face into the burning hot coals. The qunari screamed in horrid pain, and struggled desperately to free himself, but Aedan's powerful grip held him in place until the skin burned and melted off his skull and finally died. The qunari's body slumped to the ground, it's head still on fire.

"Well, I guess we're not getting anything out of that asshole, or any of these assholes for that matter." Rajmael observed, looking at all the dead, mostly exploded body parts laying all around them. "Look around this place, see if there's anything here that can tell us what they were doing here. What their orders might be."

"Maybe this will help." Zevran produced a letter and handed it to the Inquisitor. "That qunari officer had it on his person."

Rajmael quirked an eyebrow at the former Antivan Crow. "You just took this off that dead qunari's body?"

"I always relieve our poor slain victims of their worldly possessions. It would be such a shame to let their personal effects go to waste." Zevran explained superficially.

Rajmael rolled his eyes at the assassin's uncouth behavior. He got what he needed, and that's all that mattered. He examined the letter, and just like the other set of orders he found earlier, it was written in both Qunlat and the common tongue, which Rajmael still found odd. The letter read...

"I have read your reports. Station your people in the abandoned elven towers by the lake. It is a short distance from its entrance to the mirror that connects to Halamshiral. We will need the space to lodge our people after infiltration is complete."

At the bottom the letter there was a map of the Crossroads. There was an arrow that pointed the elven ruins' eluvian straight to the one that lead to the Winter Palace. This was not a very promising discovery.

"So...the qunari came to these ruins specifically because the eluvians here lead back to Halamshiral." Rajmael realized.

"A staging ground? For an invasion?" Cassandra asked disbelievingly.

"No, I don't think so. This seems more like some kind of infiltration. But there aren't any more details than that." Rajmael answered.

Iron Bull growled frustration at this. "Grr! This doesn't make any sense! The Qun wouldn't be starting a war with the South now. They just wouldn't!"

"Well, we all know that's bullshit." Aedan noted admonishingly. "The Qun has been wanting to wage war with the South and conquer all of Thedas ever since their ships landed in Par Vollen. Looks like they want to finish the job."

"I've seen firsthand what the Antaam is capable of, and it's not pretty." Hawke remembered vividly. "Imagine an entire army of the most religiously devoted fanatics that could put the Chantry to shame with their zealotry, and that every member of that army is willing to kill or be killed for whatever the Qun demands of them. With the South still weak from Corypheus and now looking to dismantle the Inquisition, the South must look like an easy target to the qunari."

"I am not so sure." Cassandra spoke. "If the Qunari wanted to invade in full force, they would probably start with Tevinter before bringing their full might south. Why avoid the Imperium entirely and sneak through these eluvians to infiltrate Halamshiral?"

"I must agree." Dorian added. "If they took their attention off Tevinter, even for a second, the Imperium would bring all its power to bear on Seheron, then Par Vollen."

"Like I said earlier, this has to be a rogue group." Iron Bull reminded. "If the Qunari wanted to invade, and I mean really invade, they wouldn't bother with subtlety, let alone all this elven magic crap."

As the others spoke, Cole approached Rajmael with a different letter in his hands. "Inquisitor, you should look at this. There's fear and panic and written on the paper.",

Rajmael took the note from Cole, and it was indeed covered with blood. Looked like whoever wrote this died while still writing it because the note was incomplete. And just like the other letters they found, it was written in two tongues: Common and Qunlat.

"Two hours ago, an unknown intruder penetrated our defenses. Masked and cloaked. A mage. Used magic to awaken spirits and turned them against us. Intruder moved as if they knew this place, fled after spirits awoke. Dozens dead. Spirits keep attacking. Engagement not reco-"

The rest of the letter is illegible. The blood is still wet.

"How strange." Rajmael said curiously. "An 'unknown intruder' is also going through the eluvians. According to this letter, they turned the spirits against the qunari, then fled."

"It must have been whoever cast that powerful spell that turned those qunari we saw at the entrance into stone. Because there was definitely no mages amongst these qunari." Aedan reminded.

"Whoever it was, they must know something we don't, to have harried the qunari before we even got here." Hawke pointed out. "Not only that, but they must have key knowledge to this place. From what that letter says, it means the spirits in this place weren't just standing here, they were woken up and set against the intruders."

"So, we have two parties at each other's throats, as well as ours." Rajmael confirmed. "The qunari, who are trying to infiltrate the Winter Palace. Then there's this mystery agent trying to stop them."

"But why are the Qunari even here? And how can we be sure this mystery agent isn't the one setting them against us?" Cassandra asked suspiciously.

"That's what we need to find out. We should head back to the Winter Palace and bring this to the War Council's attention." Rajmael affirmed. "If the qunari truly are posing a threat here, we need to be prepared."

Everyone went through the eluvian and made their way back to the Crossroads leading to the Winter Palace. There was a cauldron of mixed emotions inside all of them. While of them were deeply concerned about what intentions the qunari had here, and more than a little bit shaken about what they discovered in these ruins, they were also extremely excited. Excited to have the old gang back together. Excited to have both the Hero of Ferelden and the Champion of Kirkwall at their side. Excited for what could very well be their last adventure with the Inquisition. There was no way any of them were going to let the Inquisitor down. Not here, not ever.

Meanwhile, Back in the Temple of Mythal...

Eva was outside the walls of the temple, practicing her painting with the elven fresco. She wanted to be alone, and was desperately trying to keep her mind busy. She was trying so hard to forget about what she had learned, maybe even forget Rajmael altogether. She wanted to forget about everyone.

She was so mad right now, mad at everyone. For two years the man she let take her father's place in her heart was missing from her life, being a hero to the world instead of there for her. Not only that, but he failed to mention that her real father wasn't killed by the Templar along with her mother, but survived and started a cult of elven assassins hellbent on killing all the humans in the South. And that it was Rajmael himself who killed her father, and he kept that a secret from her for two years. Even her grandmother and Keeper kept it a secret from her.

Damn it all, she had a right to know! She was the one who lost the most. She was the one who watched her mother die and her father run off for revenge. Eva deserved to know what truly happened. Rajmael had no right to keep that from her and still act like everything was fine, especially after he had been absent from her life.

Eva heard someone approaching her from behind. She looked around to see two elves she had never seen before. Both of them were barefaced elves, so they were probably her brethren from the city. One had short, closely-cropped brown hair, and a nervous look on his face. The other was a beautiful elven woman with lovely red hair, wearing green armor and had two daggers on her back.

"Can I help you, lethallin?" Eva asked politely.

The elven redhead looked at the painting Eva was putting on the wall, and couldn't help but be taken by it. "This is a beautiful mural you're painting. Who taught you how to do this?"

"My...mama taught me what she knew. Before she died." Eva answered sadly.

"Oh. I'm...I'm sorry." The elven woman said sympathetically. "You are...Eva, yes? The Inquisitor's daughter?"

"Step-daughter. And not anymore" Eva answered with palatable anger. "Now, who may I ask, are you?"

The redheaded stranger knelt down to Eva with a pleasant smile on her face. "I'm sorry, how rude of me. My name is Tallis..."

Language Codex:

Karashock: Qunari military rank. Translates as "private" or "foot-soldier".

Sten: Qunari military rank. Translates as "Infantry platoon commander".

Parashara: Qunlat, translates as "Enough".

Tal-vashoth: Qunlat term. Translates as "True Grey One". A name for those who have abandoned the Qun.

Ataash qunari: Qunlat war cry, translates as "Victory for the Qun".

Ebost esala, Sarebaas! Itwa-raas! Itwa-ost!: Qunlat insult. Translates as "Your soul is dust! You are nothing! You are dead!"

Atish'all vallem, Fen'heral elathadra: Unknown elven greeting. Possible translation is "Welcome to the valley, Fen'heral's sanctuary."

Nuvenas mana helanin, dirth bellasa ma: Unknown elven phrase. Possible secret password.

Virthar ma. Na din'nan sahlin: Unknown elven orders. Possibly orders to attack.

Andaran atish'an setharan. Ir'a vhenallin: Elven greeting. Translates as "Greeting guardian. We are friends of the People."

Eluvian: Elven. Translates as "Mirror" or "Looking Glass".

Evanuris: Elven term. Translates as "Mage-Leader."

Author's Note:

Alright! So I went and pulled off the impossible: I have placed all my Dragon Age heroes in a single place.

This arc is going to be so big, I just had to bring all three of them along for the ride.

This will be the end of Rajmael's story, so I decided to make it as big as possible.

This will be the longest story arc I have ever done, so I hope you all enjoy every bit of it.

Please review and tell me what you think.