Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 120: Mercy of the Storm
Morgan's expression hardened. "…So that's it."
Her eyes flickered briefly toward the pillars, looking at the glowing runes that now pulsed in perfect rhythm with the light pouring out of Galahad's body. Each pulse made it feel as if it were alive, as if the chamber itself was breathing alongside him.
"Someone tethered you to this place."
The realization came with a mix of frustration and anger at what they had done to someone she once knew. Her grip on the staff tightened slightly. "No wonder you won't stay down."
Galahad pulled the bowstring back and released the projectile.
The golden arrow that formed this time was different. It was much larger and denser than the previous ones, its surface shimmering like molten metal forced into shape.
As it traveled, the light around it distorted the air itself, leaving behind faint ripples.
Morgan's instincts screamed at her in alarm.
The golden arrow vanished.
"Wha—!" Her body moved before her mind could catch up.
She twisted to the side just as the arrow reappeared less than a meter from her face.
It tore past her, grazing her cheek, and a thin line of blood followed, warm against her pale skin.
Morgan's hand rose slowly, her fingers brushing against the wound. She stared at the blood for a brief moment, her expression unreadable… and then she smiled.
"Okay… no more holding back with you."
The air in the chamber shifted.
Currents of wind began to gather everywhere, filling every space in the room. They coiled around the pillars and howled across the ceiling, pressing downward with increasing force, stirring dust and fragments into spiraling currents, and turning the entire chamber into a contained storm.
Galahad fired again. This time, it was three golden arrows.
They vanished mid-flight and reappeared from different angles, their trajectories bending unnaturally as if guided by the knight's will.
Morgan didn't block and didn't move from her spot.
She raised her staff. The purple stone at the tip of the 'Sceptrum Noctis (Sceptre of the Night)' began to emit a deep, pulsating light, each pulse resonating with the storm she commanded.
"Ventus Dominium!"
The storm obeyed her command.
The arrows were caught mid-air, their forms becoming distorted as layers upon layers of compressed wind crushed against them from all directions simultaneously.
The constructs flickered violently, their golden light stuttering, before shattering into fragments of fading gold that were immediately swallowed by the storm.
But Morgan was not done yet, and the pressure did not stop… it became more intense.
The pillars began to crack, thin fractures spreading across their surfaces. The glowing runes flickered erratically, their steady rhythm breaking under the strain.
Galahad must have felt the urgency, because he took off running directly at her, forcing his way through the storm with sheer, unnatural persistence. Each step left shallow cracks on the floor beneath him.
Morgan watched his approach with a cold gaze. "It's over, cousin. Go back to rest now."
The knight raised his bow again. He was only thirty feet away from her.
Morgan lowered her staff slightly. "You refuse to give up, huh? I guess that hasn't changed about you. Then I'll just have to break everything that's keeping you here."
She raised her free hand, curling her fingers together.
The storm condensed. All of it… all the air in the chamber moved at the same time.
Every current of wind in the chamber collapsed inward, compressing into a single, invisible point centered on Galahad's body.
For a fraction of a second, everything went silent… and then… Morgan closed her hand.
The air imploded.
A violent crushing force tore through the chamber as the compressed storm detonated inward instead of outward. The pillars shattered, and the glowing runes fractured into pieces, their light extinguishing one by one. The very floor cracked beneath the pressure, deep fissures spreading outward like a broken web.
Galahad's body was caught at the center of it all.
His armor buckled, metal folding inward with a deafening groan, and the light in his eyes flickered violently, struggling to remain.
Everything went still...but just for a single moment.
And then… the storm crushed the old knight so quickly and with such violence that it created a completely surreal image.
The large knight was compressed and reduced to something no bigger than a tennis ball, floating in mid-air, the remnants of his armor fused into a dense, warped sphere.
Morgan watched this without showing any emotion, but deep beneath her calm exterior, something twisted… anger, regret… and something she refused to name.
She tapped her staff on the ground and ended the spell.
The 'remains' of the knight fell onto the cracked black floor with a heavy 'thud'.
The chamber was destroyed, and the magic keeping Galahad in the realm of the living was no longer active.
The knight would not be able to regenerate from this.
"You rest now, Ser Galahad. You have earned that much," said Morgan, her voice quieter now. "I promise to find the bastard who did this to you and make them pay."
She aimed her staff at the ball of compressed metal, the only thing still left of the old, valiant knight.
"Fiendfyre."
A bird made of crimson flames burst into existence and flew to the center of the room, its form shifting and writhing as it unleashed a wave of cursed fire that consumed everything in its path.
She did not wish to leave anything behind. Nothing that could be used.
The dark flames followed her command and did just that; they burned everything. Stone melted, metal screamed as it warped and dissolved, and even the lingering traces of magic were devoured, leaving only molten rock behind.
Once she was done, she gave one last look at the broken altar at the end of the chamber, its purpose now reduced to ruin… and walked out.