Morgana awoke on a cold stone floor.

She bolted up to a sitting position, her hands holding the weight of her still unstable body.

I'm alive, she realized with both jubilance and confusion. Her last memories were of drinking the water Merlin had given her. Of choking up as the poison shut her body down bit by bit and falling to the hard rock of the throne room floor as consciousness left her.

The budding seer observed her surroundings. She was defiantly in a castle or at least the ruins of one. The once solid stones had been worn away by age and time and resembled more stacked rumble than defenses. Ivy snaked throughout every cranny and nook, weaving through the cracks of the decaying structures. Oh, and there was a noticeable lack of a roof.

But none of that concerned Morgana as she spotted, not three feet from her, the armored form of Morgause lying on the hard ground, apparently dead.

"Morgause? Morgause are you alright?" Morgana inquired with terror leaking into her voice.

She hurriedly crawled over to her ally and cradled her in her lap.

"Morgause, wake up! Please wake up!"

At that moment, Morgause's eyes fluttered open. But something was wrong, the pupils were tired and weary, purged of their near constant fury and determination.

Morgause's mouth slowly curved into the slightest of smiles. "Sister, you are safe" she breathed weakly as she raised a hand to stroke Morgana's cheek.

Sister? Tiny pieces suddenly clicked into place inside Morgana's mind. Morgause's elation when she had agreed to help the blond witch, her mysterious feeling of kinship with the other magic user, and the unthinkable ease at which Morgause had offered her the healing bracelet, perhaps the only left of her mother, their mother.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Morgana whimpered as her newfound kin began to wither before her eyes. "What's happening to you?"

Morgause gave her a light scowl. "That treacherous serving boy is smarter than he appears. The poison he gave you was mortua aconitum. An ancient and incurable draft created by the Bloodguards of the High Priestesses of old."

"Where did Merlin get something like that?" Morgana asked.

"The court physician, Gaius, used to have extensive ties to the hierarchy of the Old Religion. He likely stumbled upon some and never bothered to dispose of it. Merlin was likely only aware that it was a poison."

Morgana was still reeling from her shock. Merlin, the one person in all of Camelot that she had felt safe with, had dared to reveal her secret to, who she had turned to in her darkest hour, had betrayed her. Poisoned her for no reason she could conceive of. Already she was making plans on how to eviscerate him as she peeled off his flesh.

But then Morgause spoke once again. "This is all my fault. My desire to protect you led to your greatest danger."

Morgana looked at her dying sister endearingly. "What, what do you mean?"

"I made you the source of the enchantment that struck Camelot, which subdued its residents. It was the only way to ensure that you were not affected by the magic. The serving boy must have somehow discovered that and done what he thought he had to to save his precious king."

Morgana understood now. Merlin had done what he had thought he had needed to do. In his position she likely would have done the same. And that terrified her almost as much as another fact confounded her.

"If the poison is incurable, how am I still alive?"

Morgause gave one last sad smile at that. "To those with enough knowledge, even the most doomed of lives may be saved with the sacrifice of another."

The implication of that statement struck Morgana immediately. "Morgause, please tell me you didn't—

"I did" the regretful sorceress confessed. "And I would do it a hundred more times if the need arose. Sadly, I have but one life to give for you."

"But you can't die" Morgana cried. "There is so much I have yet to learn from you."

"Most of the tomes from which my skill is derived from are in the study upstairs" Morgause informed her weeping sister. "But I need you to promise me something before I can pass on."

"Anything" Morgana swore. Despite only knowing her sister for barely minutes, she feels the unbreakable bonds of magic and kinship between them. She would go into hell itself for sorceress.

"Look after my son" Morgause whispered.

Morgana blinked in surprise. "Son?"

Morgause began to breathe scantily and so channeled her last breathes into an explanation. "A little more than a decade ago, I fell in love with a young druid. At the time, I had never lost anyone and had no great rage towards Camelot, despite what my mentor Nimueh preached. I lived in peace with his clan, helping whenever, whoever I could. But one day my husband went into the lower town to purchase supplies and—

"Uther had him killed" Morgana finished hatefully.

Morgause nodded. "My son barely escaped the city and returned to the camp, but with Cerdan dead, I lost myself. I left believing my son to be safe with clan elders and sought out Nimueh to join in her crusade. I later learned that she had been slain and took up the title of High Priestess of the Old Religion myself. But when I returned to the druid camp, I found it ransacked, the elder dead, and my son disappeared. I scryed for ages before I learned he was alive, in the care of a druid elder named Iseldir in Cenred's kingdom. Please, find him and care for him. Guide him down a better path than mine."

Morgana could only weakly nod at her sister's final plea. "What is his name?"

Morgause's eyes suddenly pulled away from Morgana, to the blue sky above them. Her pupils took on an aspect unseen in them before, of contentment and love. And with her final breath, she whispered a name. "Mordred."

With that, Morgana's eyes widened while Morgause's closed for the last time, the High Priestess, dead for her sister's sake.

Morgana buried her on the castle ruins' grounds the next day. Then, she gather supplies from the abandoned kitchen, tomes from the study, a sword and armor from her sister's corpse, and a horse from her stable (Morgause had managed to keep a surprising amount of the ruin functional).

With all she needed gathered, Morgana set off for the kingdom of Cenred to find her old friend, new nephew.

Little did the young seer know that at that very moment that she swore a promise to her sister's dying wish, she had shattered the plans of an unimaginably powerful force. However, only four beings on Earth were aware of this fact, one of whom was a mighty dragon, the great Kilgharrah, who was rising up to take his vengeance upon his tormentor, Uther Pendragon. But even as rage clouded his mind, the ancient creature thought with greatest curiosity, the winds of fate have changed.