Anglo-Saxon England, Winchester, Late 1017
It had been over a year since Edward's meeting with Uther.
Since then, Edward had become a noble, creating 4 castles (in Frome, Taunton, Minehead and Gifle - modern day Yeovil) and a mansion in Burnham-On-Sea - all with magic of course.
On top of that, in the 4 places he had created a castle, he had made a city for the castle to be in - with magic once again.
These cities were more like towns as he had designed them to be only slightly more advanced and larger than Winchester; however, the castles and mansion were much grander, resembling the 13th/14th century buildings, as opposed to the plainer Saxon ones.
Of course, in creating everything, Uther and his subjects got a glimpse of Edward's power, both terrifying and exciting him (the general populace were moved during this period so that they could not see the magic).
He had also created his coat of arms and noble house. He named it the House of Lyore and it's coat of arms contained a knight's helmet, with a single purple feather on the top, in the centre with light blue flames around it. Each corner had a silver or golden lion standing up and 2 blue and red serpent dragons slithering across the edge of the shield-shaped coat of arms.
Today, Edward was sitting on a golden throne, slightly inferior and lower down than the King's which it sat next to. He yawned.
"We need to attack the Scots or at least defend from Malcolm. He's pressed too far into Cumbria and he's only going to move further, until those barbarians reach Winchester," a noble cried out.
Many murmurs of agreement or discontent could be heard around the courtroom.
"I agree with Earl of Northumbria, he's razing my holdings and butchering my peasants!"
"No, the more pressing issue is the Welsh," a Thegn shouted from across the room.
Clutching his head, Uther sighed and watched the chaos from his throne. He turned to Edward as if begging for him to sort the mess out.
Edward grinned slightly at Uther's surrender.
"Listen up!"
Immediately, everyone turned to face Edward. Nobody wanted to get on his bad side.
"I believe that invading the Scottish will only draw anger from the Norwegians in Argyll and Northern Scotland."
Most of the nobles nodded in agreement.
"So, I believe it would be more important to take Wales right now seeing as they're closer to Winchester and the more profitable southern counties."
The grunts from the Northern nobles were ignored.
"So where should we strike first, the Kingdom of Powys, Gwynedd or the smaller kingdoms?"
"All of them."
The noble who had posed the question laughed it off.
"Yes Wizard Edward, but I mean which one first?"
"All of them. At the same time."
Silence captured the entire court.
Everyone stared blankly at Edward, except for Uther, who began to laugh hysterically.
"Let's do it then. I believe in your confidence Edward!"
The nobles began to worry.
"Surely, my liege, we won't do such a thing. I mean it's madness! It's absolutely insane!"
"Ready a messenger. Send them to all leaders of the Welsh area, tell them to ally themselves and prepare for our attack!" Uther ignored the pleading of the other nobles.
***
Kingdom of Gwynedd, Isle of Anglesey, 1018
A loud, booming laughter could be heard throughout a large castle in Aberffraw (capital of Powys - destroyed in 1200s).
"They've just taken over a kingdom and now they think they can conquer the world? Ridiculous!"
King Aeddan was both furious and shocked that someone who had only been ruling for a year thought that they could beat all the Welsh Kings at the same time.
What arrogance!
"Send a messenger to Brycheinog, Deheubarth, Powys, Gwent, every Welsh Kingdom. We shall teach them the price of their arrogance!"
***
Anglo-Saxon England, Hereford, Town of Kington, 1019
Two armies faced eachother for the final battle.
Lion crest flags flapped majestically in the wind, who's whistling was the only sound in the air. The scent of death lingered.
Throughout the war, there had been small skirmishes between the two sides but a large battle had yet to take place until today.
Edward's magic had assisted in the war, flooding the plains - which led to many Welsh to drown in mud due to their heavy armour - setting fire to supplies, causing high winds to prevent Southern naval assaults, camouflage magic for ambushes, even using mind control to cause bad strategic decisions.
At first, he had vomited at the sight of a corpse and was terrified by the act of killing. Now he was an invincible machine.
However, all of these could still be explained. Unnatural, but explainable. Therefore, the Welsh did not expect magic was at play. How could they?
The English side held the advantage throughout and losses were minimal: it was no different today.
They had placed themselves atop a hill and used magic to make the hill incredibly muddy and difficult to get up.
However, the Welsh had more soldiers as the English were forced to send some men to protect against the Scots.
Everything was silent.
Edward could hear his heartbeat rising and his stomach was knotted, constantly twisting and turning.
Finally, he heard the Western beasts roar.
"CHARGE!"
Rows of fighters raced up the hill with weapons targeting the English. Many fell down due to the conditions, crashing into the men behind: many were crushed and trampled by the unstoppable charge of iron boots.
Watching all of this from atop the hill, Edward took a deep breath and stepped through the ocean of armoured English bodies, which parted for him. When he was at the front of the shield wall he raised a single hand.
"Protego Diabolica."
His calm words produced a wall of blue flame in front of the shield wall. Any Welshman that tried to charge into it was instantly turned to ash.
The stampede halted upon seeing tens of people killed in a flash. Both sides looked at the wizard in reverence and terror.
He stepped through the flames and came face to face with the enemy soldiers, staring into their petrified eyes. Placing a finger on his throat, he looked above the soldiers at Aeddan - the leader of the Welsh Alliance.
"Aeddan! Stop this pointless fighting and surrender!" a booming voice swept across the battlefield.
Aeddan had seen the sorcery but, despite being scared, he refused to surrender.
Arrogantly, he rode his horse towards Edward with his head held high, but the trembling hands that held the reins betrayed his emotions.
He rode up the hill until he came face to face with Edward. It was impossible to look into his raging, violet eyes.
"I will not surrender to you demon!" Aeddan weakly cried, like a wounded predator.
Momentarily, Edward's eyes flashed a look of unwillingness before they recovered.
"Then all I can do is apologize."
With a heavy heart, Edward turned his back to the poor men.
One man lunged his sword at Edward's back but Edward just caught his sword, broke it with one hand and threw him down the hill.
When he arrived on the other side of the flames, Edward swiped his had to one side.
The flame began to swirl into a tornado in the air, before shifting into the shape of a huge dragon. A single roar from this beast swept many of the soldiers off their feet.
"End it," he commanded the huge creature.
Gladly, the creature obliged, diving into the army as everything devolved into chaos.
***
In the end, there was only the kings left on the battlefield: everybody else had been devoured by the fire.
Edward looked at the decimated landscape. The once vivid green grass was either charred black or had completely disappeared.
There was no blood. Just ash.
Edward looked down upon the kneeling kings, bound in rope.
"I cannot spare you, but your families will live if you surrender your kingdom," he spoke emotionlessly.
The former kings solemnly agreed before they all dropped to the floor with a single 'Avada Kedavra' and a green flash.
That's how England conquered Wales 200 years too early.