The once seemingly endless frozen fields within the perimeters of Haven burns to cinders.

The paths where workers and their children walked are now covered in the rubble of ruined homes.

Those who could not escape in time now lay as charred remains. This place of company, of hope, is now a warzone where death has made its home.

It is no longer a place that carries its name closely. Sanctioned under the breath of a flying beast, and the toxic magic of its unholy master that continued to carve itself into the very earth.

Arturia bursts forward through the air and swings her sword. Her enchanted metal strikes against a forcefield, magically induced by the power of its wielder; the Elder One.

The towering mage showed off an truly twisted grin and raised their other hand that swirled with dark magic.

"Move or you're dead-!"

Arturia felt the impending approach of doom. With her instincts warning her to move away at once, she side-steps the attack. It grazes against the side of her waist, breaking through the armor and barrier around her body, and tears through the flesh, drawing blood.

'What-?!'

At the sensation of pain, Arturia backs away, creating distance between herself and the Elder One. 'My Magic Resistance has been broken through?!'

An Anti-Property material? But its different from when Diarmuid was able to ignore her Magic Resistance. It is as if the magic ability the Elder One holds is so powerful, not even her immunity to magic is strong enough to endure it. As if she was struck by a god…

Arturia moves when another flare of magic zaps for her head. She dashes around the figure at the center of the burning field, looking for an opening.

She kicks a wooden cart her way and knocks it over toward the Elder One. However, the Elder One is unfazed, and as the cart descends onto them, they merely hold out their fingers.

The wooden cart stops its descent as a magical aura surrounds it. It remains suspended in the air, and as it hovers over the figure, the Elder One throws their hand back, and catches the holy blade aimed for their neck.

Arturia grits her teeth. She has no time to curse her luck as her battle instincts cried out again, and she forces her sword away. She barely manages to block another magical lightning with her sword. The impact knocks her away, by several meters. Her body breaks through barrels and into a home.

She shakes her head to keep herself conscious. The debris falls from her hair as she stands up. A shadow then covers her, and Arturia rushes through the wooden walls. The wooden cart she had kicked earlier is used against her, and it smashes into pieces behind her.

The second she leaves the house another blast of magic tackles into her; she raised her sword in time, but not fast enough.

She feels the brunt of dark magic assault her arm, with the pain inexplicable as her mind screams at its touch. Arturia loses her footing once more, rolling across the ground until she manages to force herself into a stop with a stomp of her foot, kneeling slightly as she embeds her sword in front of her, her only shield.

'The Elder One is able to predict my movements…'

Is this foresight? Could this mage's magic allow them see into the future?

"No. They knew what you were going to do," Her Excalibur speaks urgently in her head. "It's as if they know you…"

Arturia breathes heavily as she glares at the dark sorcerer ahead of her, seeing their ominous smile ever apparent. "I've nearly lost my life three times now…"

With her Magic Resistance useless, Arturia's own saving grace is Excalibur. The only weapon strong enough to endure whatever unholy art the caster had unleashed.

"Putrid! It tasted asinine!" Her Excalibur expresses.

Arturia grips the handle of her weapon. "If this is the person responsible for the Conclave…"

Then is it this person's power alone that destroyed that place? Is their magic that great?

"No. Not that powerful…" Excalibur assessed. "But they could destroy this place. It would take him but a few minutes. The survivors won't be able to escape in time if that happens."

"Then we'll need to keep him busy." Arturia starts to sprint once more as a barrage of red lightning fires after her. "I won't be able to get close for long, not against his magic. Even if I reach him, he has a protection barrier around his body."

"Then cease thinking like a knight, and fight like a mage. Use your magic! Combine what you've learned and apply it when they least expect it."

At Excalibur's suggestion, Arturia considers her options as she flees from the magical assault. If this caster somehow knows Arturia, then Arturia will have to fight in a way that supersedes that. Do something uncharacteristic and – dare she say - dishonorable.

If she must fight like a mage, then she shall fight like a mage.

Arturia pulls out her magic staff, her power flowing into and igniting its head. She channels the abilities from her Mark, the energy flowing through her system.

Now's as good of a time as any to practice this spell.

"Time Alter…"

Her green eyes flickers a brief flash of gold.

"Double Accel!"

Her body speeds away from the hails of lighting.

"Hoh?" The Elder One utters out a distorted sound of amusement. "So the knight has learned a few spells…"

Arturia as a fleeting blue figure dashed towards the chuckling caster, closing the distance almost immediately.

"You think that means anything against me?" The Elder One raises their hand, grasping the holy blade once more. In spite of Arturia's speed, the Elder One's reaction is flawless.

"An amateur like you…" The Elder One meets the glare of Arturia with their own, "...Shouldn't think themselves equal. To a god like me-"

The blade suddenly shatters under the Elder One's grip.

For the first time in this entire invasion, the Elder One is visibly surprised, at least, as much as their inhuman visage allows them to be.

The illusion fades from the sword, and a wooden beam is unveiled, picked up by Arturia in her sprint. Arturia releases the wood and recalls her Excalibur before she slams both her sword and staff together and swings them up in unison.

The Elder One brings up their other hand, summoning their dark magic again, but Arturia – in her Time Alter state – is the first to cast.

"Mana Burst!"

A powerful combination of her holy blade, the Mark, and the magic in her staff, Arturia breaks through the defenses of the Elder One, and a beam of light pierces through their head.

A gaping hole burns through the claw-like hand and twisted skull of the caster. Their black eyes become vacant in that instant. Their death is evident.

Exhausted by the use of so much magic, Arturia sighs in relief and triumph...

...Until her breath is suddenly cut short by a powerful grip.

The Elder One strongholds Arturia by the throat, catching the knight by surprise. The Knight grips her sword and attempts to swing it, but it is blown away by another blast of magic from the Elder One, burning through Arturia's marked hand. Excalibur is thrown in the air and lands on the smoking dirt.

Arturia's pained yell is muffled by the Elder One's crushing hold, the circulation cutting off and preventing her from summoning Excalibur again. Her staff is telekinetically yanked away, and Arturia is lifted off the ground, her feet flailing uselessly.

"…As I said…" The mouth of the Elder One moves as their head slowly regenerates, half of their brain restoring itself. "An amateur like you… couldn't compare… to someone like me."

Just as the sentence finished, the air around the corrupt being begins to shiver as the illusion breaks away from the Elder One's face. Arturia, with her uninjured hand, grabs the wrist of the Elder One, still choking and gasping desperately for air. She glares as defiantly as she can, before her green eyes begin to widen at the sight unfolding before her.

"Maybe you should have stuck to growing crops and managing herds, in that humble farm you grew up in..." The exposed face of the Elder One speaks, their smile returned, pulling into a strangely delicate, and familiar curl.

'It can't be…'

"...You would have done better there than running a kingdom." Her icy cold blue eyes staring back; maddening yet with a flicker of kindness. "Wouldn't you agree, dear brother?"

The Elder One's disguise completely fades away. In her regal black, red clothing and armor, the crown blown off her head, her long white hair falls over her back. Her pale skin is covered in veins and shards, where the corruption of the Blight itself flows through. Despite her monstrous image, there is still beauty about her. Like a living statue carved by the most renowned sculptor, frozen in time, and never losing their lustrous shine no matter the impurity that had gathered over the years.

"Mo… Morgan?!" Arturia manages to gasp out in disbelief and horror. She barely recognizes the woman, but there is no mistaking that this is her half-sister. Morgan Le Fey. How? How in the name of God is this possible?!

"Did you think you were the first to set foot into this other world?" Morgan Le Fey challenges mockingly. "You should know nothing's impossible with me. After you died, I tried to go my own way to create a new dominion. But Bedivere...That damned Bedivere, he rallied everyone against me. He chased me down to any place I could runaway to, and during my weakest hour, he nearly killed me."

Arturia grimaces at the reveal. The gentle face of Bedivere flashing through her mind's eye. The idea of her most loyal knight devoting himself to revenge on her behalf… She had hoped Bedivere would be able to find peace after fulfilling her final request. Arturia prayed to God that he would.

"I used whatever magic I had left to keep myself in limbo. I couldn't save myself, but I've done too much to give up. So, as I was on death's door, for the first time in who knows how long, I prayed. I prayed, and prayed, and prayed to any deity who would answer. That I would do anything to survive. That's… That's when I heard him. The Old God of Silence. I managed to slip into the other worlds, and he was the first to notice."

"Durmat..."

"He brought me to Thedas, and in exchange for saving my life, I would spread his name all across the lands as his one and only true High Priestess. I've walked these grounds for several millennia since that day. I became stronger. Lived through eras and events no mortal would have survived. And then you, you just had to show up and be a nuisance again."

"You… You were involved…!" The history lessons with Josephine came back in tidal waves as Arturia angrily accused Morgan, her older sister "kind" enough to loosen her grip enough to let Arturia speak. "Those seven magisters... The Golden City… The Blights… You…!"

"I had nothing to do with any of that," Morgan answered with ease.

"Lies. Selfish... Delusional lies. You are not the sort… who would simply sit back. Not when one is as power-hungry... and conniving as you. Destroying the Conclave… You haven't… changed. Not after… all these years… did you learn humility, or basic empathy."

Morgan's victorious smile fell. The sensation of her cursed and ancient magic crawling through her fingers that clamped around Arturia's neck."…I think it's time we put an end to this family reunion."

Morgan reaches under her robe and pulled out an item. An other-worldly object in the shape of a sphere. Lines all over it like a thumbprint, as if once held by a entity beyond mortal understanding.

"It's time you've return something. That Anchor was never yours to use. Without it, you are no more than a child to me, not even with your new parlor tricks, or even your antique sword can stop me."

Her voice sounds sickeningly sweet as she adds on, "I look forward to killing you with my bare hands. One final embrace before I send you back to that hill."

The orb in her blackened hand glows an eerie green. The Mark reacts to it, causing Arturia to wince at the sudden pain in her hand, feeling it reach for the orb despite her resistance.

Morgan's face relaxes as she witnesses the connection between the orb and the Anchor. Her smooth features, however, crinkles as she notices a change.

The Anchor within Arturia's hand shifts colors.

From green to gold.

From gold to green.

Arturia clenches her hand as it displays an erratic showcase of two opposing colors, concentrating as the pain washes through her, bracing it as magic channels through her arm.

"…Damn you, Merlin." That's all Morgan can let out before an eruption of magic comes between her and Arturia.

Arturia gasps for air as she eventually stops her roll across the ground. She steadily lifts herself up, feeling the agitation in her arm as she looks at her Mark now known as the Anchor.

The sporadic influence has not yet cease to be. It only grows wilder. More frantic. It sought an escape; it sought to be unleashed.

"Arturia!"

Arturia hears the shout of her sword. She looks over to where Excalibur lies. With the connection between her body and brain reestablishing contact, she reaches out and wills her sword back into her hand.

"Use me! It is the only way!"

Arturia looks back at Morgan, seeing her form rise unnaturally from the rubble, her death glare aimed at Arturia. "This magic… It's too unstable!"

"Aim it for the mountains then! Hurry!"

Morgan raises her arms, her ancient magic channeling into unleashing a powerful, instant-kill spell.

"But…!" Arturia hears the warning bells. The danger across from her and the danger in her hand.

"Do not think! Do not hesitate! Look only to the future!"

"This is an act of clemency. Bow your head." Morgan begins her chant. A spell strong enough to not only obliterate the knight, but everything within the vicinity.

"What will happen to you?" Arturia asks as she holds her sword upfront, the magic of her mark entangling with the magic within her sword.

"Do not worry, fool!" Excalibur sings without a hint of fear. "I'll join the stars if I must! But you…!"

The sky darkens as magical circles suddenly appear in the clouds. Spears made out of corrupt red energy slowly emerged their centers.

"You have a world to save."

A flicker of sorrow grips her heart, and then steels as Arturia raises her sword over her head.

Golden energy swarms the holy blade. Golden dust rose from the earth.

"It has been an honor… To have fought by your side. May my next persona bring you as much glory as I have!"

The finality of his humor, the sword of victory declares.

"Never forget the joy your knights upheld, to raise their swords in your honor…"

Arturia's gaze sharpens.

"For that is the joy you have fought to protect. A joy you must now defend… through them!"

Members of the Inquisition flash through Arturia's mind, and she knows what must be done.

"Be well. And live happily, my king..."

"EX-!"

At the near conclusion of Morgan's mantra, the ancient magister realizes the futility of her casting, and she ceases at once to endure the incoming attack.

"-CALIBUR!"

A golden beam of light blasts from her holy sword, its ray swallowing everything in its path. It was not as strong as usual, but it was nonetheless effective. It reaches, and reaches, until it touches the mountains, where an avalanche burst forth.

Morgan, suffering half her body blown, does not yield. She glares at the knight without even looking back at the incoming avalanche.

Arturia breathes heavily at her final excursion of power, feeling the dull weight of her sword, as if it'd been emptied. "Morgan... Was it not enough... for you to conspire Camelot's downfall? What is the point of all this? What are you planning now?!"

Morgan merely glowers back at the knight as the avalanche encroaches ever so closer. "All I desire now.."

The avalanche draws closer to Haven.

"Is to watch you fail, as everything you hold dear... burns to ash."

Right as the avalanche engulfs Morgan, Arturia forces her body to move, rushing for the nearest cover, and finds it, jumping into the ditch, as the avalanche and its snow drown everything in sight.


With a patch over her chin, a somber Cassandra helps to lead the people of Haven to find their assigned tents throughout the camp, guiding the wounded and crippled toward the healers. Despite her vigilance, a flurry of emotions still swirls like a whirlwind within her.

The fear, pain, and trauma in everyone's eyes... It's the Conclave's explosion all over again.

"Hey. You alright, Seeker?"

She stops to turn and look at the redhaired dwarf who walks up beside her, eyeing her up and down with that typical half-smile and concern in his eyes.

"...I'm fine, Varric. Focus on these people. Make sure that all the wounded is being tended to," Cassandra replies in a deceptively monotone voice. Varric gives a light-hearted shrug, reading her silent message of "I don't want to fucking talk about it" and did as he is told and moving on to a different spot, leaving the Seeker to brood and fume to herself.

In truth, Cassandra is far from fine. She is pissed. She is sick with worry. If she so much as saw that stupid, stupid blonde knight again...

Most of all, Cassandra is upset. At Arturia, at herself, at no one else standing up to that foolish girl who went off on her own, believing she must fight on her own without placing any concern on her own life. Cassandra swears to the Maker, if that knight survives, she is going to smash her fist into the brainless skull of that idiotic girl. Then they'll see who gets knocked out by who!

But for now, she must do what she can to help the survivors regain their barring, and to make sure everyone finds their footing as quickly as possible. Despite their losses, they've not been short on miracles yet, and Cassandra will not begin to waver on her duty now.

"Cassandra."

The warrior woman turns at the all too familiar light-footed approach of Leliana, the Left Hand of Divine Justina greeting her with a curt nod.

"We've confirmed that no enemy from the invading force managed to follow our trail, thanks to that secret passage Roderick guided us through." The redhead woman informs succinctly, crossing her arms behind her back as usual, "Whatever that avalanche was, it may have ceased their armies completely. It might be too early to tell, but for now, we're safe."

"...Not everyone has escaped," Cassandra reminds her partner, as bitter as can be.

"...No, but many did," Leliana carefully treads, knowing how sensitive her longtime friend is right now. "I need you with me to speak to the commander. We've been trying to come into an agreement, but... well, you can imagine how that's going."

"We were blind-sided, and our Herald of Andraste was left behind! I can imagine how he must feel."

"We're split between sending another team back to Haven to retrieve Arturia, or keep our soldiers where they are to protect the refugees."

"Are you for or against it?"

"Against. I'm not giving up on her, Cassandra," Leliana asserts sharply before Cassandra makes any baseless accusations. "I don't believe Arturia has ever failed us even once. She will come back. Have faith, Seeker. As she has."

Cassandra grips onto the handle of her sword, rubbing her thumb against the hilt nervously. 'She will come back to us. She will...'

"Sister Nightingale!" It is then that a scout appears, running up to the women. "General! They've-! They've found her! They've found the Herald!"

"Where?!" Cassandra and Leliana demand in unison, causing the scout to jump back in surprise and slight fear.

"S-She's with Mother Giselle and the other healers. She's been injured. It's... Her condition is critical."

That is enough for both Cassandra and Leliana to start running towards Mother Giselle's tent.

Once they reached there, a whole host of people already filled the area. They rush through the crowd. The news had spread quickly, and everyone came to see the Herald.

"Step aside! Make way for the Inquisition's leaders!" Cassandra's voice booms as she and Leliana push through the gathering throng of concerned soldiers and civilians. Upon exiting the crowd, Cassandra stops cold at the horrific sight before her.

With her golden hair loosened, Arturia laid on a makeshift cot, her armor removed and her injuries exposed: her arm is completely mangled, her waist is bloodied and missing flesh, perhaps more. Mother Giselle and several other healers surrounded her, their expressions a mix of concentration and concern.

Cassandra's heart clenches at the sight of Arturia's pale face, her usually vibrant emerald eyes now closed in pain. The wounds on her body are beyond severe, evidence of a fierce battle. Blood seeped through the bandages that have already been applied, staining them crimson.

Leliana's hand tighten on Cassandra's shoulder, a silent gesture of solidarity. They exchanged a glance, a silent conversation of worry passing between them.

"-This is unlike anything I've seen before," Mother Giselle speaks grimly, washing the cuts as she tended to the wounds. The atmosphere inside Mother Giselle's tent is tense, heavy with worry and anticipation. The scent of medicinal herbs mixed with the metallic tang of blood hung in the air. "Her blood has been poisoned. Tie her upper arm and cut off the circulation. Now!"

Cassandra has no words to say as she can only stare at the unmoving form of the Herald of Andraste. On behalf, Leliana approaches Giselle. "What are her chances?"

"Not well. We may need to amputate to save her life," Giselle informs as she looks over to the waist. "However, the main problem lies there. We can attempt to drain the blood to wash away the impurity and slow the effects before it fills her entire body, but we cannot do too much. We will need blood donations from people with matching blood type."

"And if that is not possible?"

Mother Giselle lifts Arturia's hand to her lips, clasping it in prayer. "We will have to purify the poison. This will require the aid of some mages as even my assistants are not enough."

"We have templars and mages on standby with us." Coming to the front of the crowd, Cullen makes himself known, hurrying over to the medical scene, and openly winces at the sight of Arturia's injured form. "Whatever you need, we'll give it to you. I don't care how slim the chances are, do everything you can to save her!"

"Maker above! Arturia..." Josephine arrives just after Cullen, and is instantly horrified by the sight of the knight. Leliana is quick to go to Josephine's side, holding her paling friend in support. "What did this? Did that beast...?"

"Mor..."

Every head in the room turns to the source of the noise as Arturia quietly speaks something in her unconscious state. The advisors close in, but no further than the healers.

"Arturia? What is it?" Cassandra whispers gently, lowering herself right next to the blonde's face. "More what? What do you need?"

"-Holy shite! Turi?!" From the crowd, Sera appears, along with Varric, Solas, and the rest of their companions minus Cole.

"Oh, Maker's breath..." Varric's expression mute with shock, grimacing at the scene.

Solas and Vivienne immediately go right to work, aiding the healers as they kneel close to Arturia.

"...The magical barrier around her has been destroyed," Solas examines with a dreaded look. "Something tore through her magic resistance. Something truly old and corrosive."

"Get her some water. If her magic resistance was shattered, then she could be suffering from other magical inflictions," Vivienne orders as she hovers a hand over the knight's stomach. "It's eating away at her. She'll die in minutes if we don't act quickly."

"What if we froze the wound? It'll grant her more time," Dorian appears with a crate holding all sorts of potions and tonics, ready to act as much of a doctor as the other mages.

"It'll stop the bleeding, but it'll also trap the poison inside," Solas shakes his head in disagreement.

"It could also slow down its spread," Dorian counters, passing the bottles over to the healers. "We will have to worry about removing it later. Right now, prolonging her life is what matters."

"Not unless we risk losing any opportunity of removing it at all," Vivienne argues back. "Entrapping will turn it into a cancer. What we need to do is cauterize the infection first. Kill the source before it grows."

"You could risk feeding into the poison, killing her quicker,"

"The same applies to using any other type of magic on her-"

"Really don't think this is a good time to be arguing about this..." Iron Bull interjects, able to see what's going on from where he stands. Although he is composed, his expression is far more sullen than his normal demeanor.

"Don't lose your heads already. Arturia's life depends on all of you!" Blackwall snaps, trying to bring senses into the mages, his concern more open than his horned ally.

As some frantically act to save Arturia's life, while the others look on in utter worry, Cassandra continues to ask Arturia to repeat her statement.

"Mor...gan..."

"Morgan?" Cassandra said, catching the other's attention.

"The Elder One... Her name... is Morgan."

"That's who attacked us?" Cullen's fist tighten enough to draw blood as if to bury that name in his mind. "You spoke with her?"

"It's not over..." Arturia rasps with a bruised neck before she starts choking, blood coughing out from her throat, and the healers quickly help clean it off.

"Hurry up and do something! You've got more potions right?! I'll even nab some if-" Sera is being hold back by Varric. The dwarf pats the elf girl's hand, calming her as he tells her to stay back and let the healers do their work.

"Don't give up on us, Arturia," Cassandra murmurs with a shaky voice.

As the situation becomes more frantic, everyone shuffles and discusses as they can only watch as the knight's life slip away by the second. Giselle especially is doing everything she could to save this girl's life. But as their hope continues to dwindle away, and the inevitable comes closer, she resorts to one last act.

"Maker. Andraste. Please. By your will and mercy, save her. Please. Hear our prayers. Save this knight. Save this girl. Save Arturia Pendragon."

Right there and then, the clouds suddenly part from the sky, and a warm way of light shines through from the heavens.

The ray of light lands upon Arturia's chest. It brightens with each passing second. The odd luminous takes everyone within the vicinity, to the point of stopping.

As the light envelops where Arturia's heart lies, a sense of tranquility washes over the tense atmosphere of the camp. The luminous glow seems to hold a mesmerizing quality, captivating everyone's attention and drawing their gazes upward.

"What is...?" The words are whispered in awe, barely audible over the hush murmurs that are rippling through the crowd. All eyes are fixed on the spectacle unfolding before them, as if a moment of divine intervention made itself known amidst the chaos. Through the parted clouds, a shimmering object descended from above, carrying gently by an unseen force. It glimmered with an otherworldly radiance, casting a soft glow that illuminated the faces of those gathered below.

Arturia, her consciousness fading, struggles to keep her eyes open, her gaze fixated on the ethereal object that hovers before her. It is a sight she has only dreamed of, a symbol of hope and salvation in her darkest hour.

The object took on a familiar shape to her, its pure golden and blue hues resonating with a deep significance. Its flawless surface seemed to pulse with a life of its own, radiating a sense of ancient power and untold secrets.

As the light brightens, bathing Arturia in its gentle warmth, a sense of recognition dawned upon her. With a faint smile, she whispers the name that echoing through the hearts of all who witnessed the divine apparition.

"Avalon..."


Author's Note: Thanks for reading!

I want to make it known that I don't do Story Requests. I'm not sure where or how to post the request in other forums but I will see if someone else can.

Hopefully you'll find someone to write your story Thunder Dragon!

I hope everyone liked how this battle turned out. While the chapter was short, it unraveled SO many things. Can't wait to see what happens next!

Take care ya'll. See you next time!