It is an unusually nice day, even for all the crap happening to the rest of the Maker-forsaken lands.

Such are the thoughts of a sentry on duty. He relaxes his fingers over the handle of his sword hold by the waist strapped around his hip. He eyes the land in front of him, with its trees and rocks from the balcony of the stronghold. He glances down to his left, another sentry on watch like he is, their eyes meeting and he merely waves at the other man in greeting before going back inside the hold. It is becoming so terribly dull, but he would take a dull duty as oppose to fighting demons or dragons. No thanks to all of that, he rather liked where he is right now.

Still, he wouldn't mind the tiniest bit of excitement, or at least, a chance to really help him move up the ladder, earn him enough gold, and get out of Thedas just to leave behind all of the madness. With luck, he might spot this hotshot of a sword-girl he's been hearing endless tales about and has been causing nothing but a ruckus for everyone to hear. Killing that brat might just be enough to have him leave here, and live somewhere cozier. Shouldn't be too hard to look out for a blonde, fifteen-year old in a blue gown, with an invisible sword that sometimes turns into gold. But what are the chance he'll ever get that much of an easy kill in a place like this?

Feeling the need to relieve himself - shouldn't have accepted Gunter's challenge of a drinking contest, he still hasn't been rid from this damn headache - he goes to the latrine, but before walking inside, he removes his sword and set it outside next to the door. He enters the latrine then, shutting the door behind him.

'Place stinks worse than Jorgeo's breath...' He thinks idly to himself. Just a little bit longer at his station, and if he's lucky, he might catch and kill some mage or better yet, get a real good hitt at this golden knight of the Inquisition as a decent story to tell. He's heard this girl was the Herald of Andraste, but what did that matter? She's still a child that'll get killed one way or another, she couldn't have been that much of a threat as the rumors says.

After a few minutes once he'd done his business, he comes back out.

Just stepping out he instinctively reaches for his sword where he left it.

One tight clutch, he caught nothing but air. "What the - where...?" He knew he couldn't have misplaced it, unless Gunter's pulling some prank on him again. He swears he's going to kill that man in his sleep one day.

He searches around the hall, growing more infuriated by the second. He eventually reaches the balcony where he previously saw the man standing guard, and through the open doorway to the outside, he sees not a guard, but a body on the floor.

His eyes widens, dread in his heart, he rushes for the body, finding an arrow lodge in the neck of the fellow guard. This person was dead for more than a few minutes.

"Oh fu-."

A commotion broke out behind him. Angry shouting, panicked screams, and other loud noises. Weapon or not, he rushes back inside. Further down the hall, he turns to a corner, and suddenly, he is met with a smoke filled hallway, one smell of it and his eyes are already watery. There is nothing but chaos as he can hear the bustling people in front of him. Seeing no other way around this but through, he barges into the smoke with his hand over his nose and mouth.

"Intruder! We have an intruder!"

There is no argument there. Just as soon as he heard that, there is suddenly a piercing sound. A loud pop, and sparks are flying all over the place. Dozens and dozens of crackling noises, flying pieces of light everywhere, all of it numbing his hearing, further depleting his already dazed sight, and heightening his paranoia that this is some kind of coordinated attack. He felt the need to duck.

He trips over some leg instead and falls face front onto the floor.

"How you like them apples?!" A female voice he does not recognize shouted through the smoke filled area, "Or maybe you wanna call it explosive apples? Not really apples though - oh you know what I meant. HAHAHA!"

He forces himself back to his feet, and charges for where he heard the voice, but ends up bursting through a wooden door and tumbling down the stairs. The commotion continues, as if it is all around him. It is only when he struggles to get up and across the hall of the first floor, that he hears more shouting.

"Where are the fucking weapons?!"

"Maker be damned! Who put butter on the floor?!"

"IS THIS SLIME ON MY FACE?! I CAN'T GET IT OFF! CAN'T SEE A DAMN THING!"

He feels it is wiser to avoid going down that specific direction. With his limited vision, he presses his hands against the wall and goes the opposite direction. Prying one teary eye open, he spots the light of day, and hopes that fresh air can clear his confused senses.

But he is met with only more chaos.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! A MAGE OUTSIDE THE FORT!" He hears a man announce in distress. Rubbing his eyes, he is able to see more clearly, and it is a mess.

There goes his allies covered in frost staggering away from the front gate. He runs for another direction, he remembers that there is another storage area where they hid more weapons. He just needs a blade to fight with, even a knife will do.

As he is heading for the room, he spots one of his allies, Gunter, in front of him, rushing for the same place. He calls out his name, and the other man jerks his head around.

As it turns out, he only did so because an arrow met his temple, and his body plops to the ground. There, he also sees Jorgeo, running away as it seems, but stops and unsheathed the sword he is able to keep to his side unlike most of them.

A fierce looking woman in armor and short black hair is in front of him, and there he witnesses Jorgeo swing his sword. It is deflected easily, and the woman swiftly cuts him down with her blade to his neck.

Panic racing through the guard's heart and mind that it dulled the comprehension to grieve for his comrades - he never liked those two anyway, he abruptly spins around and runs to anywhere else but where the enemies are. 'They have us surrounded. How did we not notice?!'

It is pointless to think of that now, he must adapt to the situation. He thinks of breaking a wheel from one of the carts and used that as his weapon, and just when he sees a cart closest to him, it suddenly catches on fire after a glass bottle is dropped onto it.

"Not bad! There really is somethin' to your alchemy stuff! Thanks for the borrow Turi!"

He looks up, but barely caught a glimpse of the attacker from the balcony above him, though he swore he spotted elf ears. Startled by the sudden fire, he slips when he tries to stop himself, and backs away in a rushed crawl. He takes defense behind a few large barrels, and lays there sitting as he catches his breath.

Think. Think. THINK! What could he do? What the fuck could he do?! His only shot is to go for the other room where the weapons are, but then he thinks: how is it that only a few of them had a weapon in hand? Dammit, the intruders couldn't have found the second weapons room, could they?! How would they have known where it was?! Dammit all, this whole fort has been compromised!

Perishing screams rips through the air behind him, and he dares to peek around his hiding spot.

Stepping with purpose over the broken gravel and blood with steel boots, a royal blue fabric with white laced edges he soon realizes is of a dress, an armor over her torso, and emerald eyes scanning her surroundings. She raises something in her hand at an approaching fighter, and with a powerful swing, she slices through the body of her attempted attacker with ease; the bangs of her golden hair swaying, and so does the blue ribbon holding together her bun, her invisible weapon stained in the blood of his comrade, as if the air itself was carrying the red color.

The stories are true: she really does look like a child.

But disregarding this notion, it infuriates him that it is this child who invades this fort. She has her back towards him, he has no weapon, but damn it all if he doesn't get a chance to hurt this brat. Even from where he is sitting, she is much shorter than him, and with that petite frame, he is clearly the stronger man.

He gets up, but not too quickly. With her allies being busy with killing comrades, now is his chance. With an angry roar, he throws a fist with all of his emotion and might just as the girl whips around for him, and his knuckles slams against her cheek.

To his shock, the immediate pain came to his hand. Like punching a brick wall; how could any teenager of her appearance be this tough?! He pulls his pained hand back and grasps it tightly. For a moment, he thought he heard bone cracking, and to his greater surprise, it is the bone that made his fist, and not of the girl.

He looks back at her. There is a mark on her cheek, but nevertheless, it hardly looks scuffed. The girl is still on her feet, the best he had done to her was move her head and upper body, but not enough to have knocked her down. Not enough to knock down a girl so much smaller than him. He couldn't believe it.

She meets his eyes then, her brilliantly green eyes cold towards his soul.

He should have continued his barrage of desperate attacks with just punches and kicks, but he freezes, still not believing that the punch he threw with everything he intended to give, did not faze her in the slightest. He finds himself pinned by her unfeeling glare.

The girl raises her invisible weapon, yet, he barely makes an attempt to scurry away, and his mind fails to completely register that something had indeed hit him once the girl brought back down both of her hands. Her sword, he realizes. It is undoubtedly a blade, and it severed into his neck and body. The blade then reaches his heart, and as his mind is surrounded with endless signals of adreneline and unbelievable pain. His eyes never left the girl until everything went fading and into the darkness.

His last thoughts are the acknowledgement to the foolish disbelief he had for the famous knight, and considers that, perhaps, every rumored fact about her inhuman nature was true.

The soldier lays there with one last breath, and at the exhale, his spirit leaves this world, now in the Maker's hands and judgment.


Arturia looks away from her latest kill and to the scene around her, now calming as the battle comes to a complete close with all their enemies in this fortress dead or detained. Tasting the iron from her gums filling her mouth, she spits out quite a ball of her blood, knowing there is no way to make herself look dignified doing this, she even suspects to look more like a young ruffian than a knight of manners this way. "That was a rather decent punch, I'll be feeling that for some time..."

Such a punch would normally never even affect her if she were still a Servant or even when she lived her first life when she still had Avalon within her. It is yet another reminder, one she is longing to become accustomed to already, that she is in fact fully alive, and her body will need time to develop and hardened. It is as Cassandra had told her after their first meeting: her honor alone is not a shield. Arturia has taken those words to heart; if she is to protect her allies, she must take punches when they cannot. She intends to not let what resulted with her first meeting against a Pride Demon happen again, even with most of her powers reclaimed.

"I've been there more times than I can count or remember," Cassandra comments as she walks up to her, having just seen the spit of blood. She reaches into her own pouch and takes out a potion, "Here, this should get rid of the pain."

Arturia stares at the potion in contemplation, and gently shakes her head to decline. "It's only a minor injury. Save those potions for our men if any of them are wounded." She feels her scuffed cheek with the back of her hand, the pain dull but prominent. "Besides, I should endure the pain and build up my tolerance, and even then, leaving the pain apparent tells me how much alive I truly am."

Cassandra's naturally firm expression softens, having sympathy for Arturia's words. At the sounds of footsteps approaching, she turns to see Scout Harding. "Report."

Scout Harding salutes, "We've successfully siege this fort. We're now currently organizing some of the stuffs here and pulling the bodies out. No casualties from our side, only minor to no injuries. We've captured some of survivors, and are holding them in their prison cells." Harding then addresses Arturia, "What shall we do with the prisoners, Herald?"

Arturia considers this question with a heavy frown. After a moment or two of contemplation, the knight gives her orders, "Public executions are the most commonly made decisions when dealing with prisoners of war, but I would rather that the prisoners would spread the word of our accomplishments, as this isn't one. Have them ready to be escorted and released far from here, over by the hills. Ensure they are without their weapons but allow them some armor, if only to give them a greater chance of survival in the wilderness. If they, however, attempt to resist and attack, do not hesitate to retaliate, kill them if necessary."

"And the spoils?"

"We'll separate and categorize any of the treasures found, from weapons to values, medicines to trinkets that could be useful in other matters." Arturia answers with before adding on, "I'd also like a list of each item under those specific categories, and have a look at it later. Oh, and be sure to warn the other soldiers about any lingering effects left by Sera's traps, do affirm to watch the floors and the ceilings as well. I honestly have my doubts she's the kind of person who picks up after herself..."

"The fun's in the surprises!" Sera casually comments as she cartwheels her way across them, resuming without stop until she enters one of the buildings. Arturia merely shakes her head in mild exasperation over the rogue elf before continuing her talk - or rather, her orders for Harding and her men to follow.

Cassandra watches her, her expression returning slightly to a suspicious scowl as she observes the supposed "farm girl" make these unhesitating orders with thoughtful planning and considerations so quickly. How is it that a girl of her simple past can sound and act so seasoned? With such borderline expertise, the blonde did not once ask for guidance with how to proceed upon the result of this successful siege, a siege successful in the first place due to Arturia's well thought out plan and wise intake of her allies' suggestions.

Is she really just the ordinary farm girl Arturia said she was? Cassandra is beginning to truly accept Cullen's theory of Arturia being from a family of generals, but so long as her name remains an anomaly with no attachments to any family in Thedas, Cassandra's next best guess is the idea that Arturia was simply born to be a leader.

Cassandra did well not to disclose her thoughts openly, but even her fellow advisers had mentioned that - at this point - it is likely the best time to indulge in softly prodded questions, as all of them are at a lost of this girl's past and reason for her inexplicable experience. Out of everyone at their main base, out of everyone in Thedas in fact, Cassandra is the most curious out of the most curious to know more about the girl she has come to trust and has fought in many battles together with.

Once Arturia concludes her instructions, hearing Harding's eager confirmation and her leave, Cassandra asks her the newest of many questions she has for the knight before her.

"Arturia, how...how do you know how to do this?"

Arturia looks at her in confusion. Seeing the befuddlement, Cassandra reiterates, "It's just...you know the steps like many older, experienced people do. You told me you lived on a farm, but as far as I've seen, you must have done more than tending to the animals and the crops."

There is silence. Cassandra wonders if she's being too pushy and is ready to curse herself inwardly. However, to her surprise and delight, Arturia actually answers. "You are correct. It IS rather strange how someone who has lived a simple life at the beginning to know as much as I do. It's actually quite unusual that a farmer would know the etiquette of a leader. But that was how my father had raised me."

A fond memory in her eyes, Arturia looks to the moving soldiers of the Inquisition, spotting Solas and Varric meeting and seemingly in another usual banter of theirs. "My father believed I was meant to become a strong and capable ma-...mature woman. Someone who will help others when there was no one else who could. He saw my life was beyond the farm, and taught me many things to be that very a person; a leader. So that when others are in need of someone to rely on, I would be that someone who can bring them back to their feet."

It is the best of the truthful context Arturia could grant Cassandra. It is not the complete truth of what her destiny was, but the truth nonetheless. Yet, it is not quite an answer Arturia herself is comfortable with, simply because of the context that was what made her to be who she became, and so she feels the need to add, "Of course, while I am only one of the many people who chose the path to lead, that does not make me one of the greatest, as there are leaders who are greater than I, and everyone is capable of becoming a great leader. I am still immature in many ways, Cassandra, but the least that I can do is to provide the best life for those around me, by my company or by my actions. That is a lesson my father has heavily implanted in me, and it is one I do in fact agree with and attempt to fulfill with all of my strength. To put others first before myself."

If she were to be given the chance to fight for the Holy Grail again, the chance to ensure that her people and her country would have the future of paradise, the eternal happiness she wished for them to have more than she wished herself to have, she would do so in a heartbeat, without falter.

'And yet...' A small voice at the back of her mind whispers, 'Look how that attitude has served you in the end.'

For a moment, Cassandra finds herself staring at Arturia, the brunette's frown very apparent, but with a heart that is feeling an increasing sense of admiration for the girl's beliefs.

Arturia truly is a noble girl, strong without a doubt, stronger than anyone of her age, braver than anyone or as anyone Cassandra has ever known, and the warrior woman can tell, this girl meant every word that was just said. And yet...

And yet, that sense of duty and devotion weighs heavily with such a burden. Cassandra wonders how a girl like her can be so willing to put others before herself, even her own life? Somehow, there is more to Arturia's truth than what she just told. While Cassandra can understand the lesson that everyone can be a leader, it seems to be on another level for Arturia. Did her father want her to become a commander? A Templar, or even a Warden?

Cassandra opens her mouth to ask further, to delve into Arturia's beliefs and what she had wanted to be, or rather, what her father intended her to be.

"'ELLO!"

Cassandra nearly jumps when Sera suddenly leaped into existence with a wide, manic grin. The rogue elf had just returned from one of the buildings without making herself known by either the Seeker or even the knight. "Just came by to let you two know that I've managed to convince the boys and girls to let me put up the flag of the Inquisition for this place! I'm gonna be setting up the other flag at this building in front of us next." The taller blonde giggles out before turning towards her bewildered shorter counterpart, "You should come along and help Turi! I need someone as small as you to stand on my hands to put up the flag on the pole! It's gonna be fun and really hilarious!"

Without hearing Arturia's answer or consent, Sera grabs the knight by the hand and runs to the opposite direction, dragging Arturia with her.

Cassandra holds up a hand to stop them, but they left too quick. While Cassandra wants to worry about Sera's antics and pulling Arturia along for it, she actually knows better, and understands that Arturia is a mature person who would never allow herself to play along with the eccentricities of Sera. Still, she is left a bit bitter at being unable to ask her questions, especially since it seemed that she was closer to finding out the truth of Arturia Pendragon.

"Looks like someone's really curious about the Herald now, huh?"

Cassandra abruptly turns. It is Scout Harding again, having just returned to report that the prisoners are now being escorted.

The warrior woman scowls deeply, "How did you-"

"People tend to talk," Is Harding's immediate answer before elaborating. "And, well, I've been hearing a lot from the other advisers and how they're all ripping their hairs out trying to find out more about the Herald. That's pretty much the case, isn't it?"

Cassandra's first thought is to deny, then she thinks to deflect, but after a stutter and two, she feels that it is meaningless since apparently quite a number of their group has now become aware of how truly mysterious the Herald's past is. "...Yes. It is, actually."

Harding laughs, much to Cassandra's reddening displeasure. "But you know, that is rather strange. She's got a quiet past than the rest of us, I've even thought about asking her outright, but I'm glad I came to you first."

Cassandra raises an eyebrow, "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, not to be disrespectful, the Herald really is a weird sort of...enigma. A random girl coming out of nowhere, literally so from what I heard, and she's just casually facing against all the demons and wars and everything without even flinching! She's like a great, big rock that isn't moved at all in the middle of an intense stormy night. I find it strange to say it, especially about a mysterious stranger, but...even though I don't know her as much as you probably do, I still feel, well, comforted by her being here for us somehow. Even with the Breach hanging high in the sky, she just makes things feel like...it'll work out somehow. That she'll make it work somehow, and I can really believe in her."

"The least that I can do is to provide the best life for those around me, by my company or by my actions."

Cassandra recalls those very words just stated by Arturia, and wonders, then mildly understands, that this is what the noble knight meant. To be that light of hope, the dawn the comes from the night.

Perhaps, that's what makes her presence so comforting. That she is willing to do what everyone fears of doing, lacking that sort of fear for herself, even at the sight of failure, doubt and disaster, she would still march forward, and uphold her honor while doing so.

'...She really is like a noble knight who stepped out of a fairy-tale, isn't she?'

"Oh damn!"

Cassandra focuses on Harding once more, seeing the dwarf slamming her hand against her forehead. "I forgot to give Arturia a new report I just got before the siege. Some of our Inquisition soldiers were dispatched to meet with a group of bandits operating around here in Storm Coast, but we lost contact with them." From underneath her vest, she pulls out the report that goes into greater detail. "Do you think you can deliver this to her, Seeker? We need you, the Herald, and the others to go and see what happened with our missing team."

Cassandra accepts the report, glancing it over quickly before she addresses the scout, "I will take care of it. In the meantime, send word to Leliana about our recruitment of the Iron Bull and his Chargers, and do not forget to mention about the Iron Bull's position to her." She is certain that Leliana is going to be quite intrigued about that particular detail.

Harding salutes to the Seeker, and then departs to fulfill other business. Cassandra looks back at the report in hand once more, her face scrunching in thought, and then marches calmly towards where Sera may have taken Arturia to. There is still much about the knight she wants to know for herself, and if she has to keep an even closer eye on Arturia in order to find any clues of her past, then so be it.

And without a doubt, Cassandra intends to share Arturia's sense of enthusiasm of devotion for the people. Even if in comparison, perhaps she is more bitter, if there's anything she refuses to allow, it's to let Arturia fight their battles alone.


"How is the spell progressing, Alexius?"

In the sanctuary of the elusive enemies that threatens to cause an imbalance to the rest of the world, be it with good intentions or secretly vile, a meeting is conducted between Tevinter Magister Alexius, and the mysterious, inhuman being known only to their subordinates as the Elder One, with a past as unknown as their humanity - if they had any to begin with.

Though the question posed is simple enough, the way it is phased roams in a realm of urgency even as the Elder One sat on their throne, with the dignity of a truly composed ruler. Though the Elder One knows never to underestimate how much the reputation of the Inquisition has grown, not with that knight leading them, the Inquisition is gaining ground much faster than desired, meaning time is becoming scarcer and scarcer each minute and the Elder One's plans are under threat.

There is no other choice: they must rearrange the scheduled plans and push it to gain the lead. At the rate that the Inquisition is going, at the rate that Arturia Pendragon is heading, it won't be long until not only this group but even the Elder One themselves will be found out, and they cannot allow that, not now.

Answering to the Elder One's question, Alexius grimaces, "They're going much slower than anticipated. It may take a month or so for the slimmest results to be what we wanted." His jaw clenches with a frown, "Although, it wasn't entirely an issue, that is until we began initiating the plans so early and so suddenly. Are we truly in need of Fiona and her group's abilities this urgently?"

"The Inquisition is gaining power, influences, and are growing in numbers even as we speak," Is the Elder One's answer, controlling the seeping anger in their voice, "They will most certainly have the Mage Rebellion intrigued. We cannot risk allowing an alliance between them to happen, therefore, precautions are to be advised and acted upon, as much and as soon as possible if we are to secure ourselves for our cause."

"Still," Alexius presses, "It's a risk in itself to rush the magic process, and even riskier that we may end up exposing ourselves. I just don't see a reason to worry since the Inquisition has yet to confirm their interest in allying with the mages. But if you are that concerned, why not allow us to approach the Mage Rebellion for their alliance now?"

"It's as you said: we would be risking exposure," The Elder One explains, a mix between conceding his previously stated point and chastising for answering his own question. "Furthermore, it is not a matter of "might" or "may eventually." Arturia is a dangerous person. After obtaining everything she requires - information, leverage of any sort that places her group at an advantage for others to be swayed by their power - it no longer becomes a question of convincing anyone, including the mages, to come to her side. All of you should be aware of her capability by now, that any negotiations between the Mages and the Inquisition would be the least of their worries, and that it would be a ridiculous notion for the Mages NOT to accept any deal she may have to offer. She is the sort of person who sinks into the hearts of anyone and affect them in more ways than one that would either empower them...or destroy them completely."

The heated declamation of the Elder One is enough to cloud the already tensed air around them with bared cool vehemency, and every word that left the Elder One's mouth is without pause, only complete understanding of the mysterious foe that is this blue dressed knight. This aggravating knight who could sway the people with just her words, even after the fact that her appearance was revealed; that she was reverted into simply a mere little girl here, she still was able to earn followers and believers alike, even respect and fear among her supposed potential enemies.

It was a foolish hope for the Elder One to have for the Chantry and the Templar's to openly disregard the Inquisition as nothing but a rebellious faction, and publicly denouncing Arturia herself, thinking they could sway some opinions and ruin her image creating more hurdles for the King of Knights to get through. But it did nothing, and in fact, she actually gained a small level of affinity from the Chantry for what she did in Val Royeaux, and even switched the accusations of further ruining the Hinterlands onto the Templars which also boosted her fame and support from the people. Samson even tells that the Red Templars thought Arturia to be a perfect candidate among their ranks, and thinks it a shame that she isn't, even for someone so "young". He told this quite some time after the humiliation the Templars had endured by Arturia; it seems there are some Red Templars who actually agreed with her assessments of their deeds.

Not quite a lot in all honesty, but just enough to infuriate the Elder One hearing this kind of talk from their own ranks.

Alexius clears his throat, sensing distressed and feels to be treading on dangerous territory, yet dares to inquire, "Would this happen to be something from personal experience?"

"That is none of your concerns." The Elder One's immediate response is harsh and swift, a vibrant of power emanates from their body that hastens Alexius heart-beat with fear and dread. The thought of death came to his mind, but as it did, the Elder One's anger vanishes as quickly as it came, a deep breath through the nose, and the dark being reclaims composure. They mustn't lose themselves, the war hasn't been won between them and the Inquisition, and in fact, it hasn't even started.

"I believe the only concerns you should have is for your son Fleix," The Elder One reminds, reprimanding Alexius as well while deflecting his curiosity. "And whether your efforts are as hard-pressed enough if you wish for his prolonging life. Nothing else should be of interest to you, and you should not waste even a single breath if you hope for him to have a future. That is what's at risk here for you."

Though spared from death, a greater sense of dread falls heavy on Alexius' heart, but along with that arose the determined feelings of a father desperately clinging for any chance to save his son from his fatal illness. "I shall return to my work at once then." After a bow, Alexius departs for his lab.

The Elder One lets themselves snarl after his complete leave. They are getting too many inquiries, though not quite doubt, these subordinates are getting more suspicious of their god than they have any right to when they should just follow like the desperate, loyal dogs that they are.

Another intake of a breath to cool their temper, the Elder One then admires the moment of seclusion, and broods silently to themselves; a long...forgotten memory dwindling in their mind.

A long... abandoned past so far behind them, now threatening to crept back into her view...

"How intriguing..."

Withholding their irritation, the Elder One calmly turns at the voice. Slithering from the shadows, the Envy Demon reveals itself, its curiosity and lack of considerations of courtesy in his tone at what is shown from the Elder One's reaction. "This is the first I've seen you like this..."

"What ever do you mean?" The Elder One coolly questions the demon, but careful with each word. "You expect me to NOT be irritated by the Inquisition and their pestering intrusion of my long-laid destiny?"

"Not that. No..." The demon hisses. "There was something more underneath that anger, specifically towards this girl; Arturia Pendragon. You hid it well, but you can't hide it from ME. That barest hint of emotion...Envy. You're envious of this Arturia Pendragon."

At first, the Elder One thinks to simply scorch the demon with a wave of their hand. They knew that the demon is aware of their concealed feelings, and finds them amusing. Instead, they turn the tables to throw off any more questions that would indeed come.

"Am I now?" The Elder One raises an inhuman brow, pulling the the corner of their mouth into a cruel grin. "People who live in a house made of glass shouldn't throw stones. Aren't you the one who's jealous of Arturia's achievements spreading all around? It's rather obvious how greener and greener you're becoming by her continuing success. It isn't a good look, if I do say so myself."

Retreating itself briefly, much to the Elder One's satisfaction, the Envy Demon chooses to drop the topic, "You requested me. Something important, I take it?" As if it needed to ask.

The Elder One knows their time is growing shorter and shorter, especially with these line of questionings shooting their way. They can't have anyone knowing just yet, especially her...not yet anyway. "We need to speed up our efforts, we must further corrupt the core of the Templar Order. Have more Red Lyrium smuggled into their headquarters, much more."

It does not matter if the Templars would end up perishing from this, a disorientated and directionless group too occupied with their addiction to correctly perform their duties is enough for the Elder One. If Arturia so much as thinks that they may be useful allies after all and should choose them over the Mages, then The Elder One must make the Templars utterly hindered in their grasps.

The Elder One shifts on their seat, turning their head in order to look the Envy Demon straight in the eye, "Work closer with Samson, he as a former member of their ranks, should know the best way to ship the materials without suspicions. Subtlety is the key we need if we wish for our plans to go accordingly, under no circumstances should I accept any excusable failures or setbacks at this point, as we cannot afford them. Our existence must not be discovered until the Templar Order is under the enslaving effects of the Red Lyrium. So I am in no need to further explain the crucial necessity of you and Samson's quick but utter discretion, and do inform Samson of this as well."

The Elder One emphasized that last sentence, as if to promise something worse than death itself if it is not met with success, but they also knew when to be benevolent. They cannot be too harsh, even for being the desperate dogs that are these people, they look up to the Elder One as their only source of any glimmer of hope to deal with their tragic, abhorrent pasts. The Elder One must present themselves as a figure they can depend on, but never regarded as someone who will forgive so easily. They must not show themselves weak, not at this moment.

With a nod, the Envy Demon disappears from existence, leaving the Elder One to mull over their thoughts once more. Her mind then flickers to the famed knight of Thedas, and grinned sweetly. "Soon, oh noble knight...if I cannot have your head just yet, I will have all your work crumble before your eyes once again..."

And will that not be the most exhilarating scene to imagine? For the Elder One, it most certainly is...


So yes, if it isn't clear enough, the Elder One is someone from Arturia's past! Her past as King Arthur to be exact. And considering the many, many interesting characters that showed up there, it should be quite the mystery of who and what they are to Arturia.

Let the speculation begin!

Anywho, hopefully with this chapter more of Arturia's range from her training and experiences in her first life coming to the forefront. She was considered perfect to the point of being inhuman after all, so it should make sense that she would come across as unnaturally excellent in many areas since being a king as legendary and successful and iconic as King Arthur would require that level of competence, especially since that's the canon interpretation the Fate series has decided to go with on him, or her in this case.

Still, one has to wonder to what degree others should be put off by the inhuman perfection Arturia is constantly displaying? Should it vary from allies to enemies? Should it be viewed has a good thing or a bad thing considering the deep crap Thedas is in right now since this DOES take place in Inquisition? Please let your thoughts be known in the reviews!