A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Just got caught up in school and sports, and might have been a little bit lazy. So, anyways, here's the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age.

At the top of Fort Drakon, underneath the dark clouds that accompanied the Blight, Kael gazed at the tainted Old God. The once majestic being, now a perversion of the Blight, had fallen to its stomach. Its blank white eyes glared balefully at him, as though willing for him to burst into flames.

The Dalish just sent a pitying stare back, before drawing Starfang and Duncan's Dagger. It was time to fulfill that promise he'd made to himself during his Joining. Just as he prepared to run at the fallen dragon, an armored hand grabbed him.

Kael turned around to glare at Loghain. "What in Andruil's name are you doing? I need to finish this!"

Loghain glared back. "Let me take the blow. You," the older shemlin said, "have an entire life in front of you, and a thousand more deeds to add to your name. I'm nothing more than old man that wants his redemption."

The elf's mind grew even tense as he observed Loghain. He knew that the old shemlin desired his redemption in the hearts of his people more than anything else, and would not be above lightly injuring Kael in order to gain it.

Normally, Kael wouldn't willingly commit a deed that would result in whatever perversion his soul had become being destroyed. But this…this was a Blight. This was the very personification of primordial evil. Should he destroy the cursed plague, his name, and that of the Dalish, would be written in history forever. The personal slaying of the Archdemon by a Dalish elf could bring goodwill to his people; even gain them their own lands if he played it right.

Loghain would not take that honor from him.

"I'm sorry, Loghain, but you'll have to find your redemption somewhere else. Maybe we'll meet again in front of my Creators and your Maker." Kael said calmly. When he saw Loghain's icy eyes widen in panic, in pure fear of his redemption being denied, the elf threw a weak sleep spell at him. It would keep him down for a few seconds. Just enough for him to charge Urthemiel.

With that, and a quick scan of the area to make sure his companions and warriors were occupied fighting off the latest wave of the spawn, Kael ran at the Archdemon.

Idly, he wondered when he crossed the entire tower. He remembered scoring a good hit on the vulnerable underbelly of the beast, and then he seemed to have magically transported to the other end of the tower.

Those thoughts flew from his mind as he raised Starfang. Duncan's blade was sheathed. He truly hated running with both weapons drawn, it just felt awkward to the elf.

As Kael drew near, the Archdemon blew black and purple fire in a last effort to destroy the elf. Kael cursed as the magical, Tainted flames seared his right arm, easily burning through the enchanted leather and the delicate flesh beneath. He grimaced in pain as his right arm turned black. He wouldn't be using that arm anytime soon, which meant he wouldn't be able to use Duncan's dagger.

Kael manipulated the mana inside of his body as another burst of flames flashed towards him, and still barely managed to dodge the torrent of fire. His enhanced body began to block out some of the debilitating pain that was arising from nerves that hadn't been completely incinerated. A small grin played out on the elf's face as he drew within striking distance of the great beast, and slid on the blood-slicked stone as the Archdemon struck.

He smelled the rancid breath that accompanied the beast's open mouth, which reeked of death and decay.

He saw the massive, curved fangs that were longer than his forearm.

He heard the Archdemon's roar of pure agony and madness.

He felt its blood burning through his leather like acid, felt the heat of the Tainted flame as it burst over his head.

Kael gave a wild grin as Starfang tore through the Archdemon's neck, dousing him in the disgusting tar-like blood. His grin turned to a grimace of agony as the blood began eating through the high-quality Dalish leather. Even if he'd drunk the blood of a normal darkspawn that damned Chalice had only a single drop of an Archdemon's blood inside of it.

The sheer power of the Taint and the oily darkness inside of the blood that he was dripping with was nearly driving him mad. He could hear the Song of the Old Gods that only old Wardens could hear, and immediately understood its lure. It was calling for him, reaching out and grasping his very soul.

Kael nearly lost himself to the Song, forgetting what he needed to do. It wasn't until some of the acidic blood began to burn into his flesh that he remembered, the pain pulling his rationality back.

The Dalish elf spun Starfang as he walked over to the Archdemon's massive head. He noticed that the blade's normal hue was indistinguishable underneath the inky black blood of the Tainted God before him. He dearly hoped that his beautiful weapon wouldn't become infused with the Taint, becoming a weapon as potent- and abominable- as Blightblood.

He heard labored breathing as he used his one arm to raise the black blade over the Archdemon's skull. Kael winced in discomfort as he lowered the point onto the Old God's head. It truly was difficult to do this with only one arm.

Finally, he arranged his blade to his satisfaction, and prepared to slay the Archdemon. With a loud yell, he raised Starfang and plunged it through the beast's head, rupturing its skull.

For a second after he heard the Archdemon's final, agonized scream, he thought that nothing would happen; that it didn't matter that he had refused Morrigan's aid.

Then light burst out of the Archdemon's infernal corpse. Kael almost smiled as the power first arose, lighting a beacon of hope into the sky for every fighter. His smile only grew as the power began to swirl around his skin, giving off a comforting warmth.

But as the power began to burn through his skin, tearing through each and every one of his cells and leaving it lifeless, he felt a deep fear. His mouth opened in a soundless scream as the pain grew more and more intense, becoming far worse than anything he had experienced before.

By the Creators, his panicked mind thought, merging with a demon didn't hurt this badly!

Finally, after what felt like years of agony, the power penetrated deep into his core. For a moment, the pain stopped and he felt nothing but a curious, joyful presence. Kael couldn't describe the feeling of pure power he felt for that single second. It was as though he could do anything with a mere thought, wipe the Taint from the land effortlessly and laugh as the beauty of nature bloomed in its absence.

Then the light exploded in a shockwave, the power tearing through Kael's shattered body and core. Kael felt a single second of agonizing pain rushing through him before the shockwave began to dissipate.

As the last particles of the power rushed into him, he felt his soul being torn from his body. All went black.

He burned. Power covered him, waxing and waning with every…second, minute, hour? Eternity? None of these things meant anything to him. Images flashed before him, showering him with faces and scenes that he couldn't put a name to.

He was broken, that was all he knew. Two layers of light, the first glowing a bright, fiery purple, and the second glowing a deep, molten gold covered his form. They seemed to fill the holes inside of him, bringing intrusions into his confused mind.

The lights warred with each other for dominance, barely registering his presence. He watched on as they mixed with each other, flooding as many of the vacancies inside of him as they could. When the purple light seemed to win, he felt nothing but pure, unadulterated desire. He wanted to find mortals awash in their lust for power, land, and wealth. He could give them whatever they wanted, only asking for a small bit in return.

Then the golden light angrily purged the purple light from him, settling itself deep into him. He felt pride flood through him, empowering him as it merged with him. He felt the power flow through him, slowly restoring his form to its previous, glorious self. When he returned to…somewhere…he would force the pathetic mortals to acknowledge his great power and glory. He had slain…something important, they would do nothing to stop him from conquering their primitive societies, too awed by his might to resist!

A feeling of contentment swept through him as thoughts of power ran through his head. Then the violet light began to flood out the golden light, bringing him back to desire. Then gold regained dominance, bringing back his pride.

The cycle for power repeated endlessly, for how long he had no idea. He was merely an onlooker in his own form. Time no longer meant anything to him.

As he endlessly transitioned from desire, to pride, to that brief, glorious moment of rationality in which he was able to immerse himself in the images, he wondered why he was here. He was so sure he needed to do something…something important. Something that could not wait for anything. For a moment, he saw a fleeting glimpse of a massive form, with soulless blank eyes, oversized fangs, and a flesh-like hide.

Then the gold flooded him again. When his confused rationality returned, he remembered that people needed him…he saw faces flash through his mind.

A tiny woman with pointed ears, large green eyes, and a lost expression. Another woman, similar to the first but slightly taller with blonde hair and robes. A beautiful woman with red hair and blue eyes. A lithe, tan man with the same pointed ears as the woman, with a smirk and sense of danger around him. A massive man with violet eyes, bronze skin and white hair.

For a moment, he thinks he remembers them, only to have it slip away. His shattered form glows in irritation. Then the lights resume their perpetual war with each other, leaving him to vanish into the powerful emotions.

After a dozen more of the cycles, and an ever-expanding list of faces and places that he can't remember, he senses something else enter his small area. He sees it as a blindingly white light, tipped with icy blue particles and with a core of a soft gold. It was a thousand times more beautiful than his own weak golden glow or the harsh colors of the lights fighting over his shattered form and mind. It gave off a feeling of indescribable power, and gave off a sense of safety and comfort.

It slowly grew closer, its tantalizing strength nearing his own form. He observes the golden and purple lights react defensively, working together to make a layer of power. It moved closer as it seemed to sense the lights, and rushed at him.

The lights fled from it, staying on his body and making a thin layer over his skin. It merged with him just as the lights had, but instead of overwhelming him, it healed him. Slowly, he felt himself pull back together, bringing his mind back.

It melted into the holes, and instead of simply filling them like the lights- now docile- had, it became him. It slowly merged with his own form, which he now saw as a weakly glowing sphere, no longer riddled with holes but strong and smooth.

He now sensed something else within the power. It was something so alien, yet familiar. It was a consciousness of unsurpassed power, something that had once Called him.

As soon as he sensed the intelligence driving the power, it vanished. He decided to discover whatever it was later, when he was in a less urgent position.

He felt gleeful as the last of the holes was filled, and the power brought the last piece of his shattered form back into place. The memories that had been rushing through him before now made sense. He recognized each of the faces he had first seen clearly.

Merrill. Lanaya. Leliana. Zevran. Sten. All of his friends…or people he respected. The final thing he remembered was his name: he was Kael Mahariel, Warrior and Hunter of the Dalish, Champion of Redcliffe, Discoverer of Andraste's Ashes, and Grey Warden.

After the last holes were filled, he felt the power intertwine with his form, threading his now pulsing golden form with blue and white threads. The consciousness that hid within the power was tethered to him by a single strand of power, and he could see it as a small, pure white orb.

He was unable to get a good look at it before the power flooded through him, filling him with that same feeling of strength he had as the soul of the Old God was released.

Kael's mind made a few theories, but he resolved to think about this at a later time. At the moment, he felt a tug in the center of his form. A flash blinded him, and the tug grew stronger. When it ended, he was standing at the top of Fort Drakon, surrounded by activity.

Curious, the elf noticed that none saw him, although he was standing in plain view. He looked himself over, making sure there was no magic concealing him, and noticed that he was naked.

Kael blushed slightly, and silently wished for his familiar leather armor. He jumped when it appeared on him. The elf then wished for his old Dar'Missan, which he quickly sheathed.

Too confused to ponder his new ability, Kael wandered throughout the bustle of people. Some were clearly servants, as they were holding cleaning supplies and scrubbing the firmly ingrained darkspawn blood from the rough stone. Others were obviously warriors, grim-faced and scanning the area with paranoid eyes.

Kael swept through the crowd, searching for anyone he knew. He thought he saw a familiar face flash through the crowd several times, although they always disappeared when he tried to find them again. For a few minutes he simply wandered, observing the aftermath of the battle.

Although the damage was great, it was nowhere near as bad as he thought it would be. In the battle, flaming wreckage and ravaged corpses had been strewn everywhere, blocking streets and generally causing mayhem. Now that the wreckage had been cleaned up and the bodies removed, the sprawling city appeared scarred, yet recovering.

The elf wandered over to the dais where he had slain the Archdemon. He wondered if the draconic corpse had been left there, or if it had been burned like the bodies of the spawn. As he wandered through the crowd, not noticing that the shemlin he neared shivered in discomfort, he saw the familiar chevalier armor of Loghain. The old warrior appeared to be directing something, and Kael's jaw dropped when he saw what was going on.

The Archdemon – still its familiar, rotted purple – was surrounded by warriors and mages wearing Grey Warden armor and robes. His Brothers and Sisters were making numerous gashes along the beast's massive hide and draining the black ichor from the wounds. As soon as the blood drained into one of the massive dragonbone barrels the Wardens had set up, the mages began to weave complicated enchantments over the blood, freezing it in time.

Loghain was directing their movements, although he appeared to simply be repeating what a lightly built Warden was saying to him. The elf had to admit that the Warden was intelligent, Loghain had a presence that dominated most and compelled you to do whatever he said.

Kael spent several hours watching the Wardens expertly harvest the Archdemon for leather, fangs, scales, and blood. He doubted his clan could have stripped the titanic corpse down so quickly. After just a few hours, the fallen God had been reduced to a black, bloody carcass.

Only the thick bones and flesh were left, and Kael was sure they were only left because night had fallen. Tomorrow, he was sure that the Wardens would return for the bones.

He was all alone now, and he took a moment to observe Denerim as it fell into darkness. A sad smile was on his face as he gazed at the ruined, black husks of the buildings.

Kael turned around and walked over to the massive carcass of the god. He laid a hand on the massive, rotting hide and almost wished for the familiarity of the Taint to rush through him. It seemed that nothing was familiar anymore. The elf sighed and sat down, laying his head on the side of the great beast.

He closed his eyes, and merely thought of his decisions and companions. The elf slept for a long time before his reverie was interrupted by a soft, musical voice. "Kael Mahariel, I must thank you for your actions."

Kael's eyes snapped open, and his hand moved to his blade. He looked at the speaker, and was quite surprised at what he saw. Instead of a shemlin, there was the most beautiful elven woman he'd ever seen. She was wearing a huntress' outfit, and she seemed to never look the same. When he stared at her, her appearance seemed to be constantly changing.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and greeted her. "Aneth ara, friend. May I know how you are able to see me? Your identity would also be nice to know."

She nods, and sits down next to him. The woman noticed that he didn't loosen his grip on the curved blade.

"I can see you because we are connected, you and I. We are bound to each other, and no power may separate us. I am a part of you, and you are a part of me."

"As vague and cryptic as that was," Kael said, "I suppose I understand. As for your identity…"

She smiled. Kael shuddered slightly. This reminded him far too much of his interactions with spirits and demons, immortal beings that couldn't possibly relate to mortals. Just being around this woman gave Kael the feeling that she was infinitely more complex and powerful than a mere spirit, who could only embody a single emotion or concept.

"I am Urthemiel, Old God and the very incarnation of beauty. Although," she sighed, "I was previously corrupted by the Taint, twisted creation that it is."

Kael couldn't say he was surprised. He supposed that she was that tiny, pure orb of light that was connected to him. The elf simply shrugged and said, "It was my duty, and fulfilled the oath I had made to free your soul from the Taint's madness."

The elf looked down at his unscarred, untouched hands. "Although it was never my intention to return as…whatever I am now. I had expected for both of us to be completely destroyed, annihilated from both this world and the next."

"In a way, Kael, we are. Neither of us is truly living, nor are we dead. You keep me alive and stable in this world, as the demons do yours. My soul is bound to yours, and yours is bound to the demons that you have mastered."

Kael cocked an eyebrow. "So we are both mere parasites, relying on the life force of malevolent spirits? How comforting."

"Nevertheless," the elf said as he noticed the sun rising, "I suppose we should make the best of this situation. Would you like to join me at my funeral? I'm sure it will be in a few days."