"What happened to you Morgana? I thought we were friends." For a moment, he saw the frightened young girl from years ago.
"As did I. But alas we were both wrong."
"You can't blame me for my father's sins," Arthur countered, his voice tinged with sad resignation.
"It's a little late for that. You've made it perfectly clear how you feel about my kind. You're not as different from Uther as you'd like to think," she chastised, knowing how sharply those words would cut.
"Nor are you," he countered, the reprise just as effective.
"I'm going to enjoy killing you Arthur Pendragon. Not even Emrys can save you now."
A chorus of drawn swords followed.
Morgana laughed. "Your blades cannot stop me."
She raised her hands, reciting the incantation, once, then a second time when her confidence faltered at its failure.
"Not so powerful now my Lady." He did not feel smug and would take no joy in this.
Once again Morgana found herself forced to flee for her life. She turned and ran.
"After her!" Arthur indiscriminately called over his shoulder, his attention now focused on an armed Helios.
Merlin and Gwen left the room without a word.
Although the passageway was bereft of bodies, the sounds of the violence being inflicted throughout the palace saturated the air. Although Merlin and Gwen had traversed the byzantine passageways countless times, suddenly they did not which way to turn.
"Where did she go?" Gwen asked, catching up to Merlin.
"I'm not sure." Merlin closed his eyes to try and block out all the interference in hopes that he could sense her whereabouts.
Gwen peered around a column then turned back to face him.
"Merlin, are you alright?"
Merlin grimaced slightly before opening his eyes. "I'm fine, Gwen, we must find her."
Gwen felt her pulse increase. "I know. But you should go back, protect Arthur."
Merlin opened his mouth to protest but Gwen cut him off.
"Arthur's life is most important, above all else and above all others. Even if we catch Morgana, if Helios is victorious –"
"Gwen, don't be ridiculous, that's not going to happen."
She grasped at his shirt. "We don't have time to argue about this because we won't have the luxury of going back if my fears come true. You MUST return to protect Arthur. His life is precious – to both of us," she loosened her grip and let her free hand fall to her side, "and to Camelot."
Merlin wanted to ignore her, but he knew she was right.
"Gwen, whatever you do, don't engage Morgana. You and I know how dangerous she is."
"I promise to keep my distance, but Merlin, please, go now."
Merlin paused for a beat – some small corner of his conscious was trying to warn him about something, but he pushed it down, and with a small squeeze of her arm, left Gwen in the hallway.
Isolde lay lifeless in Tristan's arms, and his grief was unbearable. Arthur felt like an intruder, being witness to such complete despair, and walked to the other side of the hall to give them some privacy. He stood before his throne chair, beginning to fully comprehend the cost of sitting in it, and beginning to understand just a little bit what had made his father into the stone-hearted man he was.
"Arthur!"
He quickly turned around, drawing his sword.
"It's alright. It's me. " Arthur lowered his weapon as Merlin looked over at Tristan, whose body had seemingly wrapped itself around the body of Isolde as it lay in his arms.
"Is she-?"
"Yes. Saving my life." Arthur clenched his sword tightly.
"Helios is dead too," Merlin observed, "That's good."
"Where's Gwen?" Arthur asked, his voice no longer trying to hide his concern. "Why isn't she with you?"
"She convinced me to come back," Merlin's shoulders sagged, "She said saving your life was the most important thing, no matter what."
Arthur stared at Merlin for a beat, as if digesting what he had said. "Gods."
When he walked over to Tristan, his pace was a tension of panic and regret. He crouched before the distraught man.
"Tristan," he said softly, "I must go."
Tristan looked up at him through red-rimmed eyes. "Go, Sire, do not linger here too long, or you might be too late."
Arthur placed his hand on Tristan's shoulder – an un-kingly sign of gratitude and solidarity – then quickly stood. With a nod at Merlin, both men rushed out of the room.
Gwen quietly stole around a corner, her eyes warily darting from side to side. She was sure she had seen a flash of Morgana's robe dart down the corridor in which she now stood.
Wraith-like, Morgana appeared from around a corner, sword lowered, her eyes devoid of any human kindness. Gwen clutched her sword tightly but could barely keep her hand steady due to the pounding roar of her heartbeat.
Even though her injury caused her to clutch her side, Morgana was such an ominous spectre, that Gwen had to fight the insistent urge to turn and flee. Morgana strode toward her, her face all fury and hatred. Without warning, she raised her sword and swung at Gwen.
"What did I do to make you hate me so much?" Gwen's voice was staccato between the defensive parries.
"It's not what you do, but what you're destined to do," Morgana answered as Gwen pressed forward in attack. "I'm sorry Gwen, but I can never let that happen."
Gwen overreached, and with a circular parry Morgana unleashed a riposte that sent Gwen's blade flying out of her hands.
Unarmed and unprotected, Gwen stared in horror as her adversary raised her weapon to point its deadly tip at Gwen's throat.
Morgana could see the throb of Gwen's pulse on her neck, hear the short breaths of panic that Gwen emitted. She could not even remember the last time she had considered her a friend – her hatred for Gwen had been afforded plenty of time to grow and ripen after being sown years earlier.
"I don't understand. I've done nothing to you." Gwen's eyes searched frantically for a means of escape and salvation, but saw none.
"No matter what I did, you and Arthur always managed to find your way back together."
Gwen regarded her with confusion.
"You don't know it yet, but you and Arthur will lead Camelot into a new age, and that means nothing for my kind except more persecution and death."
"But you have nothing to fear, that cannot happen," Gwen tried to reason, "Arthur has cast me aside. He cannot and will not forgive me for my betrayal."
Morgana laughed mirthlessly, but was careful to make sure her sword kept its lethal aim.
"That will not last. Even now I sense that Arthur is regretting his rejection of you." Morgana looked past Gwen to see Arthur and Merlin round the corner at the end of the corridor. She raised an eyebrow in challenge and shook her head slightly, warning them not to move or make a sound.
"Not even the darkest magic could keep you apart. Even when I brought Lancelot back to life, a shell of his former self, and sent him to Camelot with a bracelet endowed with the most powerful enchantment in the dark arts, I could not keep you apart. I thought I had won when he sent you away, but when he rejected Princess Mithian I knew my work was incomplete."
Gwen unconsciously rubbed her wrist as she regarded Morgana with horror and, for the first time, hatred.
Arthur's mind reeled and he could not stop himself from uttering a hoarse, broken, "Guinevere".
Gwen instinctively turned her head at his voice, a movement that caused Morgana to drive forward with her sword. Missing her target, Morgana managed to catch Gwen high in the chest. Gwen dropped to her knees, then the floor, blood immediately beginning to pool beneath her. Morgana withdrew her sword and made ready to strike again but was dissuaded by the sight of Arthur, his face a maelstrom of rage, despair and vengeance, charging toward her.
"This, Arthur Pendragon, is the power and havoc that hatred wreaks," Morgana shouted, turning to flee. But she did not get far, as a mighty blast propelled her backwards, knocking the wind out of her before she hit the ground.
Merlin, breathed deeply, then ran to the spot where Arthur knelt, his face ashen as he held Gwen in his arms.
"Guinevere," he called in a tear-choked sob, "please…"
She looked up at him. She was so frightened not because she knew she was dying, but because she knew Arthur, and she knew what his guilt and her death would do to his heart. She tried to raise her hand to stroke his face, but she found she was unable to move it because she could no longer feel it. She couldn't speak, and her frustration at her inability caused tears to form in her eyes too. So she tried to convey her feelings – her forgiveness, her hopes, her love – to him in her gaze. Despite the dizzying pain each breath caused she was determined to do this as long as she could.
Arthur had his hands over the wound, but knew from experience his attempt to staunch the flow of blood was futile. Tears fell from Arthur's eyes on to Gwen's face. He looked over at Merlin, whose grief matched his own.
"I don't know what to do," he whispered to his friend, "Merlin, please help me, I don't know what to do."
Merlin wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, then placed one hand, then the other, atop Arthur's.
"I have something to show you," Merlin said quietly, his eyes taking on an amber glow.