"Sister!"
Morgana heard the weak voice of Morgause coming from the inside of the wooden hut. The High Priestess of the Triple Goddes dropped the firewood she had just collected and hurried inside.
Her half-sister lay on the small bed in the corner opposite to the door and raised her hand. "I am thirsty," she said and tried to sit up, but she fell back into the pillows and moaned. Immediately, Morgana fetched a goblet with water and kneeled in front of the bed, lifting Morgause's head up to help her drinking from the goblet.
Morgause had returned yesterday, from a woman who had promised to heal her. The healer's magic was not strong enough and the journey had weakened Morgause even more. And Morgana regretted that she had not accompanied her sister to punish the healer who had caused even more damage to Morgause's health. It was Agravaine who had demanded Morgana's attention and it was Morgause who had wanted her sister to stay.
Although Morgana felt great relief that her half-sister was back, she was reminded of their failure and of Morgause's serious condition by the mere look at her body.
The wounds to Morgause's face were slowly healing and thick scars were showing already. This once so beautiful face, now disfigured forever.
Morgana knew that the facial injuries were not what threatened Morgause's life. She had become weaker each day since the battle in Camelot's palace. Once again, the High Priestess felt the uncontrollable rage that had overwhelmed her in the room where Merlin broke the spell when he knocked the Cup of Life over and helped Arthur defeating the army of immortals. This rage that she felt when her half-sister lay on the floor unconscious and
defeated, and once again Arthur tasting the victory over Morgana. This little and arrogant man who obeyed his father like a puppy and discomfited every plan that Morgana and Morgause had schemed to finally bring the downfall of Uther's Camelot, of Uther himself and of everyone who was on his side.
"Be patient," Morgause whispered, and as if she had read Morgana's mind, she proceeded: "Vengeance is ours but now is not the time. Tomorrow, we will leave for the Forrest of Mynydd-Y-Gaer. The healer might be able to help. He is our last hope. And then we will take what belongs to us."
She breathed heavily and her eyelids flickered. "Now I need to rest. Prepare for tomorrow, sister."
Morgana observed Morgause while she slowly fell asleep. Yes, the healer will restore Morgause's strength and then they will make new plans for taking over Camelot. And this time, Uther will not escape. Nobody will.
For a long time, the High Priestess had not missed the visions that used to encounter her in her dreams, visions of the future, but now that she could hardly wait to destroy the lowlife of Camelot and to see Uther facing his ultimate undoing when he sees her again, she wished for another vision that could tell her the outcome of what she desired. But the future remained silent.
It was time to prepare as her half-sister demanded. Agravaine will be here soon, she thought. And he will take care of the prince and his minions while Morgana and Morgause were gone. Agravaine, this little sycophant, was a valuable ally who had scared Morgana in the past when she was younger and first met him in Camelot, years ago at a banquet. What a sneaky man he was. It was long before Morgana wanted Uther dead, when she was about to warn the king of his brother-in-law. And as it turned out, she did not have to warn the king.
Morgana remembered running into Agravaine years after Gorlois had died. The man with hair as black as the night sky grinned at her.

"Now, what a beautiful young woman you are", he said and scrutinized her with a glare that gave her a cold shiver.
"Dare to take a walk with me?"
Morgana pulled herself together and lifted her chin. "Perhaps later. I prefer to rest now."
She forced herself to smile and was about to go but Agravaine grabbed her arm.
"I hear you have come to terms with your new life in Camelot. I am glad that you feel comfortable with Uther and Arthur." He lowered his head but kept staring into her eyes. "Honestly."
"Morgana?" Uther's voice from the end of the corridor caused Agravaine to immediately let go off Morgana's arm and Morgana turned around to the king who approached both Agravaine and her.
"Is something wrong?" he asked and glared at his brother-in law.
"Not at all," said Agravaine. "I was just saying how glad I am to see your ward in such a happy state. Tomorrow's feast will surely be a delightful event."
Uther kept looking at Agravaine and positioned himself between Morgana and his brother-in law. "Indeed it will."
The black-haired man raised his eyebrows and made a gesture with his hands. "Well, then I suppose we shall go to sleep. We need to be well rested tomorrow."
He smiled and bowed. "My Lady. Sire."
While he walked away, Uther looked at Morgana and put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright? Has he bothered you?"
"I'm fine," Morgana answered. He wanted to take a walk with me and I... Forgive me but I think he is eery."
Uther frowned. "What did he do to you? Tell me."
"Nothing. Really. It's just... Never mind."
"You can tell me anything, you know that."
Morgana smiled. "I know."
"Be careful of him," said Uther. "He is not to be trusted. I only tolerate him here for Arthur's sake and to the honour of..." he paused and then took a deep breath. "It is late, I will escort you to your chambers. You are coming of age tomorrow..."
The king paused and looked at he gently smile. "Not so long ago you were a little girl and now you are a woman. Time is moving so fast."
He grinned. "You make me feel old."
"You ARE old!" responded Morgana.
Uther laughed and kissed her on the forehead. "Come on. Tomorrow is going to be a long day for all of us."

Yes, you are old Uther Pendragon, Morgana thought. And weak. And I will deny your soul to rest. Your suffering will be my delight.
She thought of Agravaine again. There was something about him which had alarmed her in the past. Back then when she was depending on others.
But this was over now because her powers were growing every day. And whatever character flaws lived inside this man, they could only be of use against Uther. He had never trusted Agravaine after all, and for good reasons. Agravaine was a great traitor in their midst, pretending to support Camelot and his nephew, Arthur.
And when Morgana and Morgause return, they will benefit of the seeds of destruction that Agravaine will have sown.
Oh, how she wished she had finished the plan when Tauren was about to kill Uther! How despisable of her to help the king in the end when she could have gotten rid of him long ago. How much she hated him for throwing her in the dungeons, humiliating her and surely enjoying his victory and abuse of power as king. Morgana was sure that he had a good night's sleep even though he had put her in irons in this cold, dark cell.
Yes, he must have enjoyed grabbing her throat while Arthur just stood behind them and did nothing, just let his father hurt her, a tall, strong man having his hand at the throat of a woman less than half his weight.
What a glorious feeling this must have been for him. Oppressing and threatening the weak ones.
No. She was not weak. She has never been weak. Yet he thought she was. The look on his face, his eyes that almost seemed to show pain when he attacked her... No. No pain and no regret. He enjoyed it, she was sure. His heart as cold as ice.
Morgana shook off the thoughts about the king's pain when he was challenged by Morgana, as well as the memories of the conversation they had later at Gorlois' grave. Every single word he said to her, every promise and his soft voice, he said it all only because at that time he did not know who Morgana really was.
A powerfull sorceress. Very powerful. And now her powers would defeat his, now she would corrupt as he did, now she would again abuse her powers and show him what a pathetic little man he was.
Morgana ignored his words that echoed in her mind. Even if he had meant what he said, it did not matter anymore. He had to die.

Uther sat down on his bed while Merlin tidied the corner in which the king's clothes lay on the floor. He had dressed himself before he went to Arthur's chambers but he had not paid attention to the clothes that fell out of the cupboard when he took out what he was looking for.
The young manservant was a reliable boy. Uther was sure that despite his idiocy and clumsiness, he served Arthur very well. And he was trustable.
For some reason, Uther has never had a problem to show his emotions in the presence of this young manservant. He trusted him with his son's life and accepted him more than any other servant he had ever met. Perhaps he did because Merlin was almost Arthur's age and reminded him of one of Arthur's little friends the young prince had a long time ago.
Yes, he trusted Merlin. He was a good boy. And Gaius trusted him, too. Even more, Gaius loved him like a son, and if Gaius did, then Uther had no reason to question the manservant's integrity unless he was proven otherwise. Uther was glad that the accusations towards Merlin in the past had turned out to be errors and false accusations.
It would have broken Gaius' heart if Merlin had been executed when he was impeached of having used magic.
Merlin had risked his life for Arthur and he surely would also help Uther when necessary.
Yes, Merlin would help. He was a good boy.
Of course, he could not show a servant too much benevolence. He was the king and Merlin was only a servant after all.
I am the king...
Again Uther realised that he had even more clearer thoughts and that he was finally coming back to reality. The chaos in his mind had darkened his thoughts and numbed his senses ever since Morgana...
"You cannot even begin to imagine how much I hate you".
Uther felt his chest convulsing. The unwanted thought about his daughter made him shiver.
His daughter, the child he had fathered before Ygraine finally showed that she returned Uther's love. The child that was conceived in a night of weakness when his best friend, Gorlois, was away at the northern plains and when Vivienne seduced the fresh king of Camelot. It had nothing to do with love butonly with passion and desire, and all the other occasions with the serving girls could not be compared to the night with Vivienne.
Yet he had given in much too easily and he felt ashamed by being with another woman when everything he could think of was Ygraine, the woman who had been constantly rejecting him at that time.
Little did he know about her reasons. It was only later that he learnt of them.
And it was later when he wanted to eradicate the happening with Vivienne from his mind but felt great pride and bliss when he first saw his baby daughter of whom Gorlois' thought she was his own, only being born a little too early.
But he wanted a child with Ygraine, he wanted and needed an heir.
A little more than a year had passed since the wedding, and Uther looked into the beautiful face of his beloved wife, the one he had been loving ever since the first day he saw her when she was still a little girl. He felt save in her presence, and warm. All the terrible battles and exhausting treaties and deals with intriguing and dangerous lords and kings and warriors were forgotten when she was near him, all the dark magic that destroyed what was
flourishing before was suddenly unimportant. It was her voice that eased his mind and the look in her eyes that reminded him of what it was like to be happy and settled. In her presence, he did not feel like a warrior but like a man.
But this evening, her face did not show her usual confidence and calmness but concern and sadness instead. It was the evening when she had given up hope of ever conceiving a child. She had told Uther about the illness she had suffered from as a very young woman that had caused her body to not function as it was supposed to do. Regardless, Uther had insisted on marrying Ygraine. How could he ever abandon the woman he loved?
He had never doubted for a second that their love will be enough to change what was impossible to change.
But after more than a year of disappointment, the young king was now disillusioned.
And he decided to seek help from Nimueh, his friend. In this night, for the first time, he ignored Ygraine's warning's of Nimueh, the woman she did not trust. He ignored Ygraine's constant remarks of being careful when dealing with powers that no mortal could ever understand or handle.
It was the night when he sent Gaius to Nimuhe in order to request the help that only the powers of magic could provide, the help that he and Ygraine needed. The time of grievance and disappointment had to end. Uther and Ygraine wanted a child and Camelot needed an heir.
When Gaius returned, he told Uther about a price that had to be paid. What price could ever be high enough to deny them the bliss of a child and of an heir? What life could be more important than the future of Camelot and the happiness of the people's beloved queen? Uther had seen so many people die. His loved ones, strangers, innocents and guilty ones. He had taken so many lifes in battles, seeing men draw their last breath, and he
himself being aware of the very possibility that the next one might be him. Death was part of life, but the future lay in the hands of the newborns in this circle of death and birth.
Uther was willing to pay any price. Any, except for one. And how could he had known that this was the very price he had to pay?

"You have to eat, Sire."
The king did not look up when the voice of Arthur's manservant interrupted his thoughts of the past. You have to eat, Sire...
He remembered these words. Gaius had once spoken them when Uther had already spent days in his chambers to take care of his newborn baby son.
"It has been eight days now, Sire. The baby is well, but you are not."
Uther did not know what to say. He could not leave his son alone while a dangerous creature was able to invade the halls of the castle at any time.
But the physician was right. He felt so exhausted and weak. Yet Arthur was all that mattered now, more than his kingdom and his own well-being.
"Sire?"
The king watched his son trying to reach his father's face with his tiny hand.
"Uther, your son needs you. This kingdom needs you. How long do you want to hide here?" Gaius straightened up and his voice became more determined.
"Arthur will be without parents and without protection if you die."
Uther kept looking into his son's face. What had he done? He had dealt with powers that were beyond his understanding, beyond his control, dangerous, intriguing... and evil.
His beloved wife died because he had not listened to her. Because he had trusted someone he considered a friend. And did his brother not die at the hands of a sorcerer too?
Had he not seen the destruction that magic has brought to this land, had he not seen the suffering of all the people who lay dead or who were devastated by all the battles and the dark magic that has wreaked havoc all around?
Those helpless and desperate looks on the people's faces due to the wars between kingdoms that used magic and almost brought about their own downfall.
The sorcerers and witches that took advantage of the weakened lands and their corrupted leaders. Had he not seen this with his own eyes?
When he passed a village one day and saw the bloodstained, crushed bodies of men, women and children, all of them dead and some of them hung up on trees in rituals, with their guts showing through their slashed bodies, only to please powers of the Old Religion, all committed by soldiers and warriors of the old Camelot, all only because they were at war over land, wealth and power, expecting to be rewarded by the goddesses, he should have realised that magic could not be trusted.
Uther remembered the horror on Gorlois' face that mirrored his own thoughts when they rode through the village, knowing that this was only the beginning of what was lying ahead of them.
And he remembered that only a few days later, they went into a fight with outlaws, he and Gorlois, while they were exploring the woods not so far away from their camp. One of the outlaws disarmed Uther by whispering strange words and by only waving his hand, and the next moment he hit Uther with his sword on the head.
If it had not been for Gorlois who run the outlaw through at the same time, Uther would have died. He was dazed and blood dripped into his eyes while Gorlois helped him up. They stumbled into a man who said he was a physician. This was when Uther met Gaius for the first time. And it was the first time that Gaius saved his life. He and Gorlois, both men who he trusted and to whom he owed his life.
And now, instictively, the king touched the long scar on his forehead when he recalled past events of conquering Camelot. This scar shall always remind him of the danger of magic. Always.
And it shall remind him that those with magic could never be his friends, that they would betray him at any time, that they already have betrayed him!
Just not Gaius. Only Gaius could be trusted. He was more like a father to him than his real father had ever been.
But Nimueh, the High Priestess, the woman who pretended to be his ally and trusted friend... She killed Ygraine. She took his wife's life and had not warned him about it. She was as evil as all sorcerers and she was as dangerous as the Old Religion itself.
How was he supposed to live without Ygraine, the woman he has loved almost all his life, how was he supposed to go on when her death had ripped the soul out of his body and crushed his heart?
Uther looked at Arthur. He could have sworn that his son was staring at Uther's scar. He was too young to understand, only a few days old. Too little to be save, too innocent to be locked up in the king's chambers, hidden from the evil outside. Uther had to act.
He had to find this creature and he had to find out how the curse could be broken. He had to eradicate the evil from this land.
"Send for Nimueh," he said.
"Sire?"
Uther looked up at Gaius. "I said, send for Nimueh. I want her here. She will not get away with it."
Gaius did not answer immediately. Then he asked: "What are you going to do?"
Uther looked at Arthur again. Then he stood up and looked straight into the physician's eyes. "I want a list of all sorcerers, witches, druids and those who
practice magic. You will aid those who make the list and contribute with your knowledge. You will swear to me that you will never use magic again. From this day forward, magic will be banned from the realm forever. From now on, using magic will be punishable by death.
He noticed the fearful look on Gaius' face. "Do you understand?"
The physician blinked. "Sire... I... I'm..."
"Do you understand?" shouted Uther.
Gaius lowered his head. "I understand."
"Swear to me that you will never use magic again."
Again, the physician did not answer immediately. He stared at the king, visibly nervous and scared. "Sire, please reconsider..."
"There is nothing to be reconsidered!" interrupted Uther his pyhsician. "It is the new law and you have to obey. Arthur will never be safe as long as magic exists. Nobody will be safe! He is cursed, Gaius. Cursed by a magical creature. The same magic that killed my wife..."
He paused and stepped closer to the physician. "This is your last chance, Gaius."
Uther saw the inner fight that Gaius fought with himself while he waited for the physician's answer. And he was relieved when Gaius finally gave it to him:
"I swear." The physician's voice was low, and when he dropped his gaze, Uther knew that his friend had just submitted to something that would change his entire life forever. His and everyone else's life.
Uther watched him for a while and swallowed. Then he said: "There will be no exceptions. Remember that when you help to complete the list."
The king took a deep breath. No, there will be no exceptions. Magic has to die. They all have to die. He will find them all and free this world from all evil, from all tempting magic that brings nothing but pain. Yes, he will eradicate them from the realm, all of them. They will suffer like he and thousands of people have suffered. He will declare war on the Old Religion and its minions and destroy them once and for all. And if it takes a lifetime, so be it.
He had been weak for long enough. His weakness has made him, Arthur, Morgana and this kingdom vulnerable, but this was over now. No weakness, no compromises. Never again.

"It is not cold in here today," Merlin said and brought Uther back in the here and now once again. "You are shaking because you haven't eaten."
Uther felt a blanket around his shoulders. He had not realised that he was shivering but only felt cold now that the manservant mentioned it.
"You are getting too weak."
Merlin's words caused a weird pain in Uther's stomach. Weak.
Morgana made him weak. She had teared down his walls long ago already when he believed her sweet lies, trusted her with his life and loved her with all his heart. His daughter, the witch...
He would have never hurt her. But he did. Once, when she challenged him. What had gotten into him when he grabbed her throat to warn her?
How could he ever physically attack his own child? When he had her locked up in the cell, he was so relieved and glad when Arthur talked him out of keeping her in prison until she would come to her senses. Even after he had calmed down, before Arthur released her again, he could not ease his mind of the incident and he could not understand why he was unable to watch his temper, his damn temper that often got the best of him.
Yes, Morgana challenged and insulted him, like she always did. There was no doubt that she went too far, but at the same time he knew that punishing her would have no other effect than fueling her rebellion. And he did not want to punish his daughter but he also did not know how to deal with her constant criticism and intolerable impudence. How he had always admired her strength, and now he felt so small and could not get any sleep, knowing that Morgana slept on the cold floor in the dungeons. He felt so sorry but helpless at the same time. She had to finally learn that she was not allowed to constantly humiliate the king.
Why was she always opposing him, why did she always have to provoke and challenge him, belittle him and questioning his jugdement and decisions?
Perhaps she did not know how much he loved her, perhaps he had failed in showing her. And later, that very evening, he should learn why she opposed him, after she had come to him to apologise.
Uther remained reserved, but inside he felt like bursting and had loved nothing better than taking her in his arms.
He was so glad that she was out of the cells and that Arthur had saved the situation. And that Morgana indeed felt sorry for her unacceptable behaviour.
But when she told him that killing fathers obviously was something he was best at, he suddenly realised that she blamed him for Gorlois' death. Did she really believe that Uther abandoned Gorlois and that his best friend, the man who was like a brother to him, died at Uther's hands?
Had she carried this grudge inside of her for half of her life, thinking that the death of the one she thought was her father had been Uther's intention?
What a relief it was when she later agreed to visit Gorlois' grave with him. Finally, he was able to tell her everything that he had wanted to tell her the whole time, finally he praised her for her honesty and strong will, and finally he told her what a great friend Gorlois was. It had burdened his conscience for a long time, and now he could finally talk about it and ease Morgana's and his own mind. And if it had not been enough, Morgana even saved his life when the assassin attacked him and was about to kill him with a dagger. From this day on, he knew he would never punish his daughter again.
What a bliss when father and daughter finally held each other close. It was as blissful as the moment when Morgana returned to Camelot save an sound, after a devastating year full of fear while she went missing because her evil half-sister Morgause had kidnapped her.
Uther had failed in protecting his daughter and he had thought that it was his fault that Morgana was now at the mercy of an evil sorceress.
He would have done anything to find her, anything, no matter the cost. Camelot's army had already been reduced to half and Uther became more and more desperate when there was no sign of his daughter.
When would magic ever let him out of its grip, when would he and his children finally be save from the evil Old Religion?
Uther barely slept, he constantly thought of all the terrible things that might have already happened to his daughter. Perhaps she was even dead already, perhaps she was alone and afraid out there, somewhere in the dark, perhaps she was facing all the horrors that he had tried to protect her from.
Nightmare after nightmare haunted him every night in his short sleep, like the nightmares about Arthur and the curse had haunted him for years and years.
There was one nightmare that was still repeating itself regularily. Uther remembered it every time when he woke up, sweating and terrified when he saw himself in one of these dreams being surrounded by fire while his baby son cried in his cradle that Uther was unable to reach.
And every time when the fire died, he saw Arthur dead but still crying, and Uther could not take him out of the cradle because when he touched him, his son crumbled into dust.
And when Morgana went missing, he had similar nightmares about her. And they all mixed up with the nightly visions of the many lives Uther had taken in his attempt to free the land from evil.
But when she returned and confessed her daughterly love and respect for him, when he held her tight, all concern was gone, and for the first time in decades, he could sleep through the night and wake up without fear and headaches. For the first time ever since Ygraine died. He felt that finally things
would come to terms with each other, that finally his family was strengthened and stable. Finally.
It was all a lie.
Every word coming out of Morgana's mouth, every embracement and every gentle look of her eyes were a lie. When she pretended to love him, she hid her hatred. And he had believed her.
And she hated him because he hated what was a part of her. She just did not know that he still loved her. Surely, she was the one who had conspired with Tauren after Gwen's father was executed by Uther's guards. And she was the one who had helped Alvarr to escape. Secretly, Uther had known this all along, but Morgana disowning him that day and promising him hell, something which had hurt him grievously, now put a new complexion on it all.
She was the one who had enchanted him with something that had made him seeing his dead wife and the children he had drowned.
The children... Ygraine... This blonde boy. The little boy who had magic and who died at Uther's hands and who did not do or say anything when Uther's men grabbed him and held him under water until he was dead.
He looked so innocent but he was not. His powers were strong, his destiny was to serve evil and soon he would have become one of those who destroy everything and everyone who did not comply and submit, everyone who wanted a peaceful life and would turn to magic sooner or later, hoping to have magic fulfilling their desires but instead supporting misery and pain everywhere. This boy... this innocent look on his face. His body was just a shell,
a disguise for evil...What would Ygraine have said and done? How could he have killed a child and thought that Ygraine would ever approve of it?
What has magic done to him, what has become of him?
No! This boy was a dangerous enemy. Unpredictable and deceitful... Oh how he wished he had not done this. Why had the Old Religion planted its horrible seed into this boy, why had it corrupted his soul before he even grew up? But he was no boy. He was a thing that served the Old Religion.
Uther knew that when one night during the Great Purge, this boy scared him to death when he suddenly stood next to Uther's bed, staring at him, quiet and motionelss, his head slightly tilt. And then he just disapeared into a swirl of dust. This was no ordinary boy. But still...
And now he was here, charging Uther silently, standing in front of Ygraine, and they all were dripping wet, cold and pale.
Ygraine... why did she keep begging him, what was he supposed to do? With every "please" she screamed, Uther thought he would lose his mind.
He could not help her. Why was she tormenting him like this? There was nothing he could do. Why did she not stop, why did she not stop?
Why was she dead, why was she here? Why did she not just come back to him but haunted him? He wanted to help her but he could not...

"Sire, what's wrong?"

Morgana had done this to him. She had given him the visions that almost killed him. If it had been going on for any longer, Uther would have killed himself.
When he was sitting in the corner, hiding from the children and his dead wife who haunted him, he was picturing to grab his dagger that lay next to the bed. Running it through his heart would have ended this. Yes, his dagger would make an end to it, once and for all. A weapon so simple, a cold and ordinary tool that had nothing of this terrifying and horrific magic but was yet so effective.
But he could not get up on his feet. And when he saw Gaius, he wanted to beg him to help him up and to get him the dagger and to stop it all and to protect Arthur and Morgana, all at once.
Morgana... She wanted him dead.
She was not here when the Great purge started, or before, when magic caused mayhem everywhere, he thought. She did not see what he saw, she did not feel the desperation and rage when the destruction of everything grabbed his soul and squeezed it, she did not feel the helplessness and emptiness, and she did not have to protect two little children from all the evil outside.
The children he killed were the reason why he had stopped the Great Purge. He never wanted to be forced to kill a child again, never. He never wanted to take them from their parents who cried, screamed and begged for their children's lives.
Perhaps, if he just would not see them, it was safe enough. They all certainly were scared enough to leave Camelot alone. And the law was clear after all.
There were still sorcerers out in the lands but they just had to leave Camelot alone. Why did this druid boy have to come to Camelot decades later?
He should have stayed were he belonged, then Uther would not have tried to capture him and would have had no reason to try to execute him.
Had the purge not been warning enough? Uther saw Morgana's face in his mind's eye.
Was the purge really the only answer?...
Uther recalled the time of the purge so vividly after all these years, and his stomach ached again. He remembered his encounter with Nimueh and her cold eyes pretending compassion when they were only filled with lies. He remembered every single word and every single look, the strong and overwhelming impulse to kill her on the spot mixed up with the desire to beg her to bring Ygraine back while searching her eyes for a glimpse of honesty
and willingness to help

"I am sorry," she said when she stood in front of Uther in the throne room. "There is nothing I can do and there is nothing I did not warn you about."
"You did not tell me that she would die!" shouted Uther and started to quaver.
"The balance of the world had to be restored and the life that is taken in exchange is chosen by the Old Religion. I did not know this was going to happen."
Nimueh's calm voice fueled Uther's anger. "You knew it would be somebody I love," he whispered while he clenched his fists.
"I only granted your wish. Your wife's death was the natural consequence of restoring the balance. It was not my doing."
Uther wanted to kill her with his bare hands. "You are lying."
The sorceress did not move but only watched him with her dark blue eyes. "It is time to accept what was inevitable. It is time to accept that you were the one who wanted an heir. You have to learn to live with the consequences of your doing."
"She warned me about you," whispered Uther while staring on the ground. "She knew you would play a viscious game."
Then he looked at her. "And now my son is cursed."
He ignored Nimueh's calm facial expression when he stood up and approached her until he stood right in front of her. "Who was this creature and how can the curse be broken?"
The sorceress remained calm and raised her eyebrows. "I know nothing about it."
"You are lying again!"
"You blame me for your wife's death but you want my help at the same time. Does that mean that you still trust me? Be careful with your wishes, Uther Pendragon."
He stared at her in total rage. How much he wanted to kill her on the spot.
"You will pay for this," he promised. "From this day forward you are banished from Camelot forever. Don't you dare to ever return."
"You want me to pay for your sins?"
Uther could not hide his shaking and shivering, starting in his ankles and crawling up his whole body.
Could it be that she was indeed innocent and that she had not known about his wife's fate?
Was it only a coincidence and the consequence of the tempting magic that promised so much and took even more?
The magic that was unpredictable and that already has possessed men and would always bring destruction and pain...
"Leave."
Nimueh did not say a word but only looked at him. The next moment she disappeared into thin air.

He should have killed her. Remembering her dark blue eyes now was like feeling all the pain again. Those eyes that...
"Sire?"
Those dark blue eyes he was staring into, almost hypnotized by them, by the lying, cheating eyes of magic... like now!
Uther leaped to his feet and pushed his enemy as hard as he could. He heard the sound of a body falling and was now looking down on the one lying on the floor, thinking of killing that witch.
He breathed heavily and remained in this position for a while. The blue eyes changed. They went brighter and...
The king blinked. He was standing over the young manservant who was lying on the floor, looking at him in surprise and fear.
What had he done? Merlin did not deserve this. Nimueh was not here, she was in the past...
Uther had to leave this room. He had to find Arthur.