"Get out of my way!" she screamed as I was thrown backwards into the stone wall.
THUD! The noise sounds in my ears as the wall came into contact with my back. THUD! It must have only happened once, but the noised kept resounding in my head. THUD! Then it stopped. And everything went black. I couldn't move, and for a few moments, all I could feel was the aching in my back and the pounding in my head. I was barely conscious, but I was aware of two other things.
First, I could hear the sound of a blazing flame, and each moment that passed the scorching heat became more unbearable.
The second thing I remember was a velvet cloak brushing against my legs as Morgana, who would rather be thrown in the dungeon than allow the unjust execution of Gwen's father or a druid boy. Morgana, the valiant princess determined to rescue a mere servant despite the objections of the king, the compassionate mistress who treated Gwen not as a servant, but as a sister. Morgana, whose magical ability and fear thereof reminded me so much of myself. Morgana, whose gracious nature was only matched by her statuesque beauty and elegance, walked out of the room, leaving me to be devoured by the inferno.
Sometimes I wonder which was more unbearable. The fire, or the truth.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had revealed my magic to her. Could i have been a mentor to her, as Gauis was to me? Or would she have betrayed me anyway?
She bonded so tightly to Morgause and the Druid boy because she knew they had magic. If I showed her my magic, could I have set her on a different path? I never took that chance. I was too afraid of what might happen to me that I never realized what was happening to her.
I awoke with a gasp, inhaling as much air as I could. Seeing the empty blazing room only brought back my feelings of regret and remorse.
"She is the darkness to your light, the hatred to your love," The dragon once told me. He believed Morgana was inherently evil and there was nothing I could do to change that. He told me it would be better to let her die than to try to save her.
I had always defended her. No matter what she did, I could never bring myself to kill her. Every time, I thought that I could heal her and bring back the Morgana I used to know. Her smiles used to be filled with joy. Now her only genuine smiles are filled with malice. At the time, I never believed she could become this. I was determined that she would never become this. I let out a cry of rage. I had failed. The girl I used to know was gone, and no amount of nostalgia would bring her back.