As the last light flickered from her eyes, she heard a voice barely louder than a whisper.
"Goodbye Morgana"
And she was gone. The last high priestess of the old religion lay motionless on the forest floor, alone and forgotten. The wind gently rustled the leaves that were strewn around Morgana's limp body. Her mind began to leave this world, as she passed into Avalon. She was surrounded by a white mist that engulfed her body and mind completely. Out of the calm broke a blonde woman whose beauty was unmistakeable.
"Come, Sister" the woman spoke, out stretching her arm towards Morgana.
Morgause's voice was like velvet. Calm, smooth and reasurring. Morgana reached for her older sisters palm and the world shifted around them. She had passed to the other side. She was surrounded by happiness, by faces she was sure were lost to her forever : faces of people with magic whom she had watch Uther slay. Kara, her mother, Mordred and Morgause, who's hand she still clung to. She turned to face the blonde woman and lowered her head in shame.
"I'm sorry sister" Morgana couldn't meet Morgause's eyes. "I have failed you. A Pendragon remains on the throne of Camelot and magic is still outlawed. Your sacrifice was for nothing"
A single tear fell across Morgana's pale cheek as she turned to face Mordred. Flashbacks of the small druid boy she once rescued from Uther's clutches raced through her mind.
"I failed to protect you. Your death is on my head. I will never forgive myself." Morgana felt shame wash over her and hung her head once again. Morgause tilted Morgana's chin up as Mordred took her palm in his own.
"Do not cry, dear sister. You have freed us of pain. We are together. We are safe."
Her mother stepped forward to embrace the younger of her daughters. "We are so proud of you" she whispered in her ear.
Mordred squeezed her hand tight. "You saved me Morgana. You showed me who Arthur really was. You gave me the strength to fight. I owe you so much."
Morgana was overwhelmed by a feeling of love and kind of which she had not felt in years.
The last priestess of the old religion was gone. She was with her family - her own kind.
Her soul passed into a place much better than this.