Prologue
Pain. A single short word. Yet at that moment it was all that could describe Morgana's existence. All there was left for her. All that she was.
"I do not tolerate betrayal, Morgana. Surely you must know that by now?" Mordred's voice was cold and mocking as he moved the blood-drenched dagger across her once porcelain skin again and again, carving an intricate pattern of poppy red on white with a sick sort of relish. He was a master craftsman admiring his work, but his craft was not carpentry or blacksmithing. No, his craft was torture.
He fed off the screams of his victims, off the pain in their eyes, off their fear.
And Morgana knew this – he had at one time been her ally after all, her only true friend in her obstinate fight against her brother, but the thought of this sent terror down her spine. Was this really what she might have become? What had he become? For she could see no trace of the little boy she had helped so long ago in the face of her tormenter. No, this face was filled with one emotion and one emotion only – pure and utter hatred.
"I stopped you from taking five innocent lives to appease your hatred," she spat back at him. "When will you realise that it's time to stop, Mordred? How many more lives must be sacrificed before you realise that it's all over?"
Mordred just smiled.
"Oh Morgana, it's far from over. You may be too weak to seek the revenge that you deserve, but I am not. No one stops me, Morgana. You should have known better than to try."
And with that, he poured hot oil over her wounds.
Fire singed her very being and the flames of pain blazed across her tormented body with more vengeance than she thought possible. It was too much. Too much to bear. She couldn't keep it up. She could no longer hold back the long, agonised scream that had been building in her throat. It wrenched the air around her, piercing the very fabric of nature as the clearing was filled with the voice of pain itself. Never ending, inescapable pain.
Her body convulsed, powerless to stop it, helpless against the boy that stood smirking in front of her. Only the chains grinding against her wrists prevented her from collapsing - chains immune to her magic and to her desperate bids for freedom, so that she could only watch as Mordred hacked slowly away at the already strained threads that held her being together.
And suddenly, she knew that she could not take it any longer.
She needed it to stop – death would be welcome, it would be bliss compared to this. It was too much. It had to end. It had to end now.
And in a last desperate attempt to end her agony, she called out with her mind to the only person she knew that could stop this. She called out to her last hope.
Hi this is my first ever fanfic and I'm being rather ambitious (there's a long story to come - this is just a sort of taster!), so if you're still reading, I'd like to say a massive thank you!
Box of virtual cookies for anyone who reviews - would really be much appreciated and bonus cookie for any constructive criticism because the whole point of this is kind of to improve my writing skills, so please, please, please review! I'm really unsure about this, so I'd love to know if you like it!
jellyblobs