This is my first story ever so please don´t be too harsh on me :) I´ve always loved Arthurian Legends, in special Morgana´s fierce personality, and now this is my contribute to their legend. I apologize to those who had already reviewed the chapter I uploaded last night but I found an unforgivable mistake on the date so I needed to amend it. I know Arthur is said to have lived on V-VI centuries but since I intend to show religions rivality on this story, I needed Christianism to be already a well spread religion.

I want to thank my dear friends, Michi-Chan-San, who is also writing an wonderful story on fictionpress, because she helped me translate this story to english, and my other friend Sara, for helping throughout its development.

PROLOGUE

Spring of 750 d.C

It´s been twenty years until I finally decided to grab the old piece of paper and started writing this story.

Fate ... one simple word ... empty and, at the same time, more powerful than any other ... the essence of life, according to the bards… capable of submiting to its will the most valiant of warriors, for once traced, no one can escape it.

However, there are still those, who in thinking to take the reins of luck into their own hands, dare to defy the wishes of the gods.

As a Christian, I always rejected the pagan legends. Nevertheless, the wisdom of age made me understand that there is never just one truth, just one side of the same story. If so, who knows if paganism is not then the most probable theory to explain the mysteries of life?

The ancients tell us that when soul and body come together at birth, fate is hanged on the neck of the infant, binding him to a future, one over which he'll have no choice.

Luck and misfortune... serene and tempestuous… day and night… love and hate… life and death… these are the greatest paradoxes of life.

Likewise, destiny may also prove to be cruel, wicked and fatal to some or merry for those illuminated by the light of temperance, bathed in the sacred waters of fortune.

But even a destiny marked by glory will end with a price and sometimes that price becomes far higher than what humans are willing to pay.

This is the story of Morgana Le Fay. They say her name descends from the witch Morrigan, goddess of destruction and bearer of death.

Sorceress, witch of the black arts, cursed prophetess and priestess of Avalon – Guardian of Excalibur. These were some of the many names by which she was called over the years. Many of them were professed by myself.

Everything belongs to the past now. A shameful past erased by time, filled with memories of someone I once was, someone I don't wish to remember, because the last few years have taught me more than a lifetime of mistakes and ignorance.

It´s been twenty years since I lost my only son.

Today I am an old man, decrepit according to what some say behind my back, ignoring that my hearing ability is still far from being affected. But now I know that Morgana was never more than a woman who fought. A warrior who united all forces, of good and evil, against a fate that was pushing her into a path she did not intend to follow. The reason for her defiance? Love.

I , Uther Pendragon, old King of Camelot, confess that I failed and, on behalf of those mistakes, I have committed injustices and crimes, of which I do not expect redemption nor forgiveness.

Sorcery. How much this word has terrified me throughout life. Not because I was gifted with it, but because I couldn't understand it. Unaware of its importance, its power, I feared it.

I saw and lived horrors for which I blamed witchery. I tried to use my power to crush it, abolish from the face of the Earth the 'evil', forgetting that you can not wipe out something that is offered by the mother goddess, the goddess of the earth. And by doing so, I challenged nature itself.

The wisdom of old age showed me that sorcery is not good or evil, leaving it to those who practice it the ability of choosing the path of good or evil. And I was protected, undeservedly, for years, by the most unlikely person and probably the one that taught me more with his selflessness. His name...Merlin, the great sorcerer.

I smile remembering the skinny boy who seemed to have no natural abilities to do anything at all. The best friend of my son, his protector. I think, somehow, both fates were inextricably linked since the day Merlin first stepped in Camelot and saved Arthur's life.

However, the story I intend to uncover begins long before that day.

It´s been twenty years since I lost everything I held dear.

If you had read until here, please review and let me know what do you think about it. :)

Next: Chapter 1 - Death