Morgana couldn't take it anymore; she had been living with the knowledge of her magic for several weeks now whilst practising it in secret in her chambers and her curiosity was driving her crazy.

She had already managed to burn several more holes in her new curtains (her aim hadn't been to good the first few time). She was gradually getting the hang of fire but she yearned to learn more. Unfortunately that was very difficult. All the books of magic had been removed from the royal library and burned during the great purge whilst any sorcerers that sill remained in Camelot were either captured or lying low, and she doubted they would want to teach the king's own ward magic under his very nose.

Morgana sighed as she looked out of her window at the execution platform where a young Druid girl of about her age was being lead to the platform. She seethed internally at the injustice of it, so many innocent, good people were dying just because of one man's fear.

She felt a slight twinge of grief at this thinking of Aglain, the kindly yet stern druid man who had helped her, if only for a brief period, so much. She would have gone to the druids again in search of a teacher but she feared that she would have placed them in even more danger if Uther realised that she was visiting their camp continuously. She needed a teacher who was separate from the druids yet willing to help her, as many sorcerers were in hiding this seemed unlikely.

Then suddenly it came to her, Emrys.

She had heard great stories of him during her time at the camp. If anyone could help her it was Emrys, but how would she find him?

The druids were the only ones who might know but it was incredibly dangerous to attempt to leave the castle at night with all the armed patrols. Morgana watched as the noose was tightened around the young druid woman and she dropped, her body twitching as her neck snapped before hanging limp.

She had made her decision. She would find the druids that night and damn the risks, she couldn't continue doing nothing. She would seek out Emrys and somehowstop more innocents dying at Uther's hand, she had to.

Merlin walked, or rather trudged his way through the square, arms full of armour, as yet another sorcerer or possibly innocent was hung.

Merlin had no doubt that she was innocent of any wrong doing, it was in her eyes; they searched the crowd in such a confused scared manner. Merlin had to look away. He could not stand watching as another person that he could not save died.

This had to stop! Many of those people hung had most likely only been in the wrong place at the wrong time and suffered because of it. Merlin shuddered at the sound of yet another body hitting the others which were piled onto the wagon beside the podium.

It couldn't go on like this, he had to do something and if that meant revealing his magic then so be it. This was very quickly turning into genocide. Feeling his despair and anger weighing him down with every step he continued on his way.