Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
For Merlin, it was hard for him to truly comprehend how powerful he truly was. Living in Camelot, he was hardly ever given the opportunity to truly display the extent of his powers. Now, standing in the middle of the forest, magic coursing through every fiber of his being, he was aware that he was about to see just how powerful he truly was.
Before this battle had begun, the trees had stood tall and proud. Their dark green leaves had swayed in the wind, creating a picture of peace. Now, those trees were destroyed. Their branches had fallen to the floor, their leaves scattered to all ends of the earth.
The forest around him was covered in dead bodies. The bodies of knights were mixed with those of Morgana's men. Blood saturated the ground, forming puddles all along the forest floor. The sounds of men in pain could be heard. Their pitiful voices reached his ears, causing him to feel sympathy for them. Their moans and cries of pain provided a fitting background for final battle that was about to take place.
He tried to block out the noises around him. He tried to block out the destruction that was displayed before him. He tried to focus on the group of people standing before him.
Morgana, surrounded by her last few remaining men, stood twenty feet away. Her hair flowed down her face, tangled and matted with blood from a cut on her head. The black dress that she was wearing was torn, revealing her pale, white skin beneath. Blood poured down her face. Her eyes were crazed, giving her a frightening look.
Merlin knew that he himself was in no better condition. His shirt had long since been torn to shreds. His right arm had a gash that ran from his shoulder to his writs. Blood poured from the wound. He was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. The only thing keeping him upright was the anger, combined with his magic, coursing through his body.
As he watched, Morgana raised her arm. She began muttering, letting the words of the Old Religion flow effortlessly off her tongue. A swirling black ball began to form in her hands, growing larger and larger with each passing second. Merlin watched, choosing to do nothing at the moment.
He did not know what he needed to do; he just knew that his magic would react when it needed to.
He continued to watch as the swirling ball continued to grow. He watched as Morgana raised her arm up above her head. He watched as her arm came forward, throwing the ball with all the force she could muster.
As the ball came closer and closer, Merlin still chose to do nothing. As he stood there, blood pouring down his arm, he appeared to be calm. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and clearing his mind.
What happened next was based on pure instinct. Opening his eyes, he felt his magic react. He felt a burning sensation behind his eyes, a sure sign his eyes were burning a golden color.
His magic erupted from his body. A strange since of euphoria went through him, a feeling that he had never experienced before. As his magic flowed from his body, everything seemed to slow down.
He watched as his magic collided with the swirling ball. As the touched, a bright light appeared, temporarily blinding him. His magic enveloped the ball, making it disappear. His magic continued to flow forward, eventually reaching Morgana and her men. The men around her were sent flying backwards. Some colliding with trees while others fell to the floor; none of them moved.
What happened to Morgana made him want to close his eyes and cover his ears. His magic hit her directly in the chest. As it made contact, an ear piercing scream came ripping from her throat. Her back arched. She brought up her hands and gripped her face. As she screamed, she dragged her hands down her face, leaving bloody trails as her nails scrapped against the skin.
Suddenly her piercing screams stopped. Her body disintegrated, leaving behind a pile of ashes.
Merlin stared at the scene in front of him. His mind was overwhelmed with what had just happened. Never before had he displayed such power. He fell to his knees, too shocked to stand properly. He had just seen what he was capable of, and it scared him.