Thank you for the beta Bailieboro :)

About half-way through reuploading all my fics.

Merlin's POV

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'Maybe he was right,' you think, watching from the prince's bedroom window. The rain pour down on the city. The sky is crying with you today, has been for the last three days. The small trickles of heaven's tears are mourning along with you at your recent, terrible, self revelation.

A realization that makes your chest tighten in worry, in grief! The thought calms your mind but does not silence the voices.

He was right.

He was right!

Oh gods...

...he was right!

You lean limply against the wall as you gaze out the window onto a world melting under the pouring waters. The damp depressing atmosphere reflects how you feel. Though, nothing can be more hollow than your soul feels. Nothing can compare to that emptiness.

An entire part of you...the extension to yourself.

Oh, gods...

...he was right.!

The thought, the realization makes you want to cry; to explode into a million tears and fold onto the flagstones below. How could you not have realized it before? Had you been so blinded by destiny, by having your future all mapped out and ready for you? Had the promise to be something great obscured the reality of the world?

The tyrant king was right...magic is evil.

Hands in your hair, you slide down the wall, as a body impaled and dead. The thoughts, the events, they all flash before your eyes. Your mind screams as the images, the memories are seared into your thoughts at an inhuman, painful pace, the flames raging.

All those times, the sorcerers attacked Camelot , each and every one of them.

Lady Vivian...

...there was one innocent woman killed by a vengeful mother. That old witch, had not a second thought before she destroyed the child of another, destroyed the beautiful Lady Vivian. How she would make another grieve for an offspring, as she grieved. All she wanted was Arthur, lying cold and dead on the great hall's floor.

What had Arthur done to have someone aim for his throat?

There were so many, so many other practitioners of magic; so many hypocrites. They did not weep at the thought of the lives they would tear asunder, the innocent lives they would end. All they thought about was revenge. All they still think about is revenge.

Morgause stood out in your mind like a cut, blood red wrist on otherwise pristine skin. She did not hesitate to attack the castle. Never mind all the castle staff, all the citizens that stood in her way on her journey to Uther. Her quest to kill the ruler. She cut them all down like weeds.

Only when Morgana lay dying did she think. Only when someone precious to her, and her alone, did she finally shed tears and show signs of grief. Only then, did she care!

Selfish.

But, you are no better than her, are you?

You absentmindedly, clutch the potion in your hand, thumb moving over the smooth glass of the vial. The heavily beating rain outside is clearing your mind of unwanted debris.

You remember how you did not hesitate to release the Great Dragon, your friend. You knew the moment before you broke those chains that the magnificent beast would not simply fly into the night, never to return.

No, nothing is that simple.

And you knew it!

You willingly damned all those killed to rot in the ground forever, all those people, all those innocents, all those sons and daughters of grieving mothers.

You hastily pull the cork out of the vial held within your pale fingers, studying the clear contents as it swishes inside the glass compellingly.

~Drink me~

the liquid taunts

~ One drop on your tongue and I will free you! I will take all your vile magic away~

You close your eyes. In your mind, the only sound is the rain pummeling the ground. The waters ease your mind, your dreary thoughts, your skepticism. Your magic is screaming, 'No!' The waters wash away all the filth in your mind, leaving one clear answer shining more brightly than the sun.

You hold the bottle to your lips, and eagerly drink down the contents.