The archway shimmered in front of her.
Elaine's travel cloak fluttered in the soft breeze of the Fae Realm's border. Her eyes burned, jaw clenched, determination fueling every step.
She was leaving. She had what she needed. She was going to find her brother.
The charged silence between Elaine and Ronan snapped as a guard rushed into the corridor, breathless, armor glinting.
"Your Highness! There are intruders in the palace!"
Ronan's body stiffened, every trace of softness gone in an instant. His hand fell from the wall beside Elaine, releasing her.
She rubbed her wrist, breath shaky, her heart still pounding—not just from the threat, but from his words that lingered like smoke in her lungs.
He turned to the guard, his voice cold as winter.
"She doesn't leave."
Then he was gone, cloak snapping behind him as he stormed toward the throne room.
The Grand Hall of the Fae Throne—
Ronan stepped into the chamber, ascending the dais to take his seat on the crystalline throne, his face a mask of power.
But the moment he looked ahead—His blood ran cold.
Morgonna.
Cloaked in serpentine green, her silver hair braided in thorns.
Beside her stood Mordred, dressed in sleek black armor, reborn and glowing with the power Eugene had helped seal. His emerald eyes scanned the fae court with amusement.
And at their side—
Eugene.
A portal snapped closed behind him as he stepped forward, hands raised. His golden aura ignited, magic erupting across the room like roots lashing into the floor.
Guards dropped to their knees. Council members were pinned in place.
Even Ronan's arms seized with tension as the spell tried to bind him.
Elaine, watching from the sidelines, gasped. "Brother!"
Eugene's head snapped toward the voice, his eyes widening.
"Elaine—? What are you doing here?"
She stepped forward, but guards moved to block her.
Ronan rose slightly, forcing himself free of Eugene's magic through sheer will. His eyes burned. "You couldn't have gotten into this realm without permission."
The question hung in the air.
Then—
"I let them in."
All heads turned.
The king's fiancée stood calmly on the far side of the dais, gown glittering like stars in frost. Her voice rang clear through the stunned silence.
Ronan's breath caught. "What?"
She stepped forward slowly, unbothered by the chaos. "I knew the day would come. When Morgonna returned. When Mordred walked again. When the truth would rise from the blood we buried."
She glanced at Eugene. "And when he would make the pact."
Ronan's voice broke. "You betrayed me."
"No," she said softly. "I fulfilled my vow. To the last king."
Eugene's eyes narrowed. Morgonna smiled.
Elaine's gaze shot to Ronan, torn between fury and betrayal.
But Eugene?
Eugene looked like a man finally seeing the battlefield he had accidentally created.
The throne room was chaos.
But he couldn't stop now.
Eugene's hand lifted, and the earth itself obeyed—vines of molten light twisted from the marble floor, coiling around Ronan, the Fae King, pinning him to the throne.
The guards moved, but Mordred was already among them, blade flashing, armor pulsing with unnatural power, cutting down resistance like smoke through fire.
Morgonna stepped forward, her eyes locked on Ronan, a blade forged of night and ancient promise in her hand. The weapon hummed—made for one purpose:
To carve out the heart that would bring Julian back.
Elaine moved to stop her, but the spell binding her was still in place.
Until—
Her eyes flashed.
Not gold, not blue—crystal white.
Clairvoyance.
A gift carried only by the strongest Pendragons—her father, her sister.
And now… her.
Memories not her own crashed into her skull in waves.
Flashes.
Whispers.
Julian, screaming.
Morgonna, watching. Smiling.
The very moment Eugene had introduced Julian to his family—the spell began.
Elaine gasped, stepping forward.
"She's using you!" she shouted.
Eugene froze.
"She knew to strike Julian! She knew he was your heart—and she couldn't reach your dimension! Not until you brought him into our world. You think this started after? No. This started the moment you let someone in."
Morgonna's smile twitched.
Eugene's golden aura faltered.
Elaine stepped closer, her voice thick with urgency. "She's been waiting—planning. She knew you'd come begging to bring him back. She played you."
Eugene's expression cracked.
His hand trembled. The light binding the Fae King flickered.
"Brother," Elaine whispered, voice softening. "This is madness."
He turned, eyes shining—lost, grieving, burning.
"Maybe it is," he breathed. "But you don't know what it's like… to be different. To feel like no one sees you— And then someone does. Julian saw all of me. The broken, the cursed, the different. He didn't run."
He looked down.
"Julian was my different."
Elaine stepped right to him now, her voice shaking. "He wouldn't want this."
Eugene's voice broke. "He didn't deserve to die—!"
His magic flared violently, cracks forming in the floor beneath him.
Elaine didn't flinch. She reached out and touched his hand.
"Julian died for you, Eugene. He chose you. Even in death. Don't dishonor that love by becoming something he wouldn't recognize."
Silence.
Tears fell down Eugene's cheeks, golden and trembling.
His fingers opened slowly.
The earth stilled.
The spell faded.
Eugene looked at her, eyes hollow.
"I'm sorry—"
BOOM.
Mordred's blast struck him point-blank, sending him crashing into a stone pillar with a sickening crack.
"EUGENE!" Elaine screamed.
The moment her grief surged—the magic binding her shattered.
And in a flash of blinding light, her weapon appeared in her hand—a golden bow, forged from the stars themselves. The same bow once wielded by Pendragons long lost to time.
Elaine turned, hair whipping in the wind, eyes glowing, and ran to her brother, kneeling over him, body trembling.
"Stay away from my brother !" she roared, standing protectively above him as Mordred advanced.
It was a war zone.
Flames licked the marble. Vines of golden magic writhed across the floor, and the air thrummed with power older than the stars.
Elaine stood protectively over Eugene, his body limp behind her, blood on his lips but still breathing.
Across the room—
Mordred stepped forward, blade dragging sparks across the stone.
"Tsk," he sneered. "You look exactly like your mother."
Elaine didn't blink.
"Nevertheless…" Her voice rang like a blade drawn in silence. "Some say I act exactly like my father."
Her eyes blazed, and her bow pulsed with light—then split in two.
Twin blades formed in her hands, glowing with Pendragon steel.
One for justice.
One for vengeance.
And she lunged.
Their swords met with a clash that echoed through the chamber like thunder.
Mordred grunted, caught off-guard by her sheer strength—she moved like Arturia, but struck like Gilgamesh. Elegant and unrelenting. The perfect storm.
" You think your so much better than me—Don't you" Mordred snarled, parrying her blade. "Im going to rip the smirk of your pretty little face, cousin."
She twisted, kicked off a column, and slammed both blades toward him—forcing him to stagger back.
Sparks flew as they clashed again and again, the air between them burning with fire and blood.
" Why?" she whispered, lunging again—this time with everything she had. " Why you do bear such hearted for your own blood—"
Mordred growled, blade biting her side. She hissed, blood trailing, but her stance never faltered.
"Why?…WHY? The crown ! Was suppose to be mine—But she looked down on me, feared me, loathed me—"
She ducked beneath his strike, "Your wrong. My mother doesn't look down on anyone, Truth is she never wanted the crown, the kingdom,,or any of it—she wanted nothing more to be free!"
Blades flashing upward in a glowing arc, catching his armor—cracking it.
"But You got greedy..thats why there is no crown at all.."
For the first time—Mordred stumbled. But not from a wound.
Elsewhere—
Ronan broke free from Eugene's fading binding, his magic returning in full force.
Morgonna turned to meet him, her expression amused.
"Well, well. If it isn't the boy king." she sneered, her sword dripping with ancient poison.
Ronan's hands lit with fae flame—green and silver. His skin cracked as raw power surged beneath his dark skin.
"I'm not a boy anymore."
He raised both hands, and the roots of the palace itself obeyed, rising from the floor to strike.
Morgonna blocked it with a shriek, her cloak twisting like a shadow around her.
They launched into battle—fire and vine, shadow and moonlight—two ancient legacies colliding like storms.
Elaine's blades clattered to the floor.
Her legs locked beneath her, magic binding her to the stone, unable to move, to scream—only watch. Beside her, Ronanfought against the same spell, every vein in his neck bulging with effort as his crown flickered, and roots clawed uselessly against the floor.
"What… is this?" he growled through clenched teeth.
Morgonna's smile curled, elegant and poisonous. Her voice dripped with triumph.
"You were half right about my plan," she said, circling them. "Phase one was your sweet, broken brother… but he was only the bait. My real plan? My true desire?"
She turned to Elaine, her voice laced with wicked affection.
"Was you, my dearest niece."
Elaine spat blood and defiance. "What could you possibly want from me?"
Morgonna's eyes gleamed. "The Avalon Core."
Gasps echoed—Mordred's head tilted slightly, even Ronan faltered.
"The what—?"
"The divine magic offer bloodline." Morgonna hissed. "The source of Avalon's legacy. The thing she tried to destroy, to hide. She gave it to her husband to keep it from me, and the fool thought he could protect it… until you were born, with a curse."
She stepped closer, raising a pale hand and pointing at Elaine's chest.
"You always wondered, didn't you?" she whispered. "Why you never seemed to bleed, why danger never quite reached you… Why you always felt safe."
A faint glow flickered beneath Elaine's ribs—the light of Avalon itself.
"No—" Elaine whispered, shaking her head.
"Oh, yes," Morgonna smiled. " You see..Right here many years ago..were youre father tried to conquer, he defeated the fase king and for that he were cursed. To loose. To Suffer. Every one of us. Has suffered and Lost and I indeed to break it. For that I need The Core.. passed to Gilgamesh's favorite child. And now…"
Her hand twisted.
"To me."
And Elaine screamed.
A burst of light exploded from her chest as the Core was torn free, golden-white light arcing through the throne room like a second sun.
Elaine collapsed, her eyes wide with pain, her breath shallow.
Eugene screamed her name, tears pouring down his cheeks, bound and helpless.
His magic surged, but the blood pact still chained him like a collar. He couldn't move—couldn't protect her.
So he did the only thing he could—
He whispered a spell. A beacon.
A message carried through bloodlines.
To Rhysand.
The spell burst from his lips like a flame—into the air, through time—
And a heartbeat later—
A portal roared open.
The Pendragons arrived.
First through: Arturia, glowing with fury. Gilgamesh behind her, armored in shadows and fire. Arthur, eyes hard as steel.
Rhysand, already rushing to Eugene's side, healing magic surging through his hands.
Morgonna laughed.
"Sister," she said, voice dripping with mockery.
Arturia met her gaze, cold and absolute. "You will die today."
Her grin widened. "And how do you plan to fight me without your precious sword?"
Arturia didn't flinch.
She held out her hand.
Gilgamesh reached behind him… and handed her a sword that glowed faintly—simple, unadorned.
Morgonna scoffed. "That's not Excalibur."
Arturia stepped forward, her aura radiating.
"A true Pendragon knows…Excalibur was never a sword." she said, voice shaking the walls. " Of course you wouldn't, Your a half breed."
Morgonna's smile vanished.
Arturia lunged.
Steel clashed. Magic howled. The chamber exploded into war.
Elaine collapsed into Gilgamesh's arms.
Her breath was ragged, her skin pale, the light from the Core now flickering far from her body.
Gil brushed the hair from her face, voice cracking.
"I'm proud of you, my girl."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead as her eyelids fluttered.
Rhysand had healed Eugene enough to stand.
He reached for his brother-in-law, about to speak—
But Gil turned, his voice like thunder.
"Take your sister home. Now."
Eugene froze. "Dad, I—"
"We will talk later." Gil said firmly, not unkindly—but with all the weight of a king who had just nearly lost everything.
Eugene nodded silently.
He took Elaine into his arms, barely conscious, and walked her toward the still-open portal.
Behind them, Artizea stepped forward, eyes blazing, her own sword drawn. Arthur moved in behind her, silent but fierce.
Rhysand stood beside Gil as Eugene and Elaine disappeared.
The portal closed.
The Pendragons turned as one.
And war began.