-Ten-

A.V.A.L.O.N.

Morgan watched Merlin's car faded into the distance and then headed back to Liz's apartment. She felt suddenly alone. Not just because the only two people she knew in this town were gone but because she wasn't even from this time. Who could possibly understand that? Her mind was reeling from what she had learned from Merlin. Part of her wanted to dismiss everything that he had said, but in her heart she knew he had told them the truth. Somehow it didn't sound as crazy as it should have. It was like filling in a familiar childhood story that she had forgotten the plot to. But it was frightening too. How was she supposed to feel after learning that she was the villain of the story? Morgana le Fay. Most people had heard of her in the Arthurian legends. It was too disconcerting to think that they were learning about her. No one can tell us who we're supposed to be, not even legends. We're going to prove those legends wrong because they're just stories. We're the real thing. Liz's words echoed in her head, and she took a deep breath. Those people didn't know the real her. They were just piecing together bits of history and filling in the gaps with what they thought should go there. No one in this world knew the real her outside of Merlin and Liz. They all thought she was a legend, a story. Now she had the chance to change the story and be someone else.

She was terrified of getting her memories back though. She was better off without them, better off not knowing the details of her cruelty. She could do without her magic too since that was what had caused her so much grief before. She just wanted to be normal. She knew she couldn't go back to being Morgan the model who lived paycheck to paycheck. That wasn't who she was. She didn't know who she was right now. She felt like a blank slate waiting to be painted. This time she was going to hold the brush. This time she wouldn't let anyone tell her who she was supposed to be.

She was nearly at the flat when she noticed a car following her. It was a familiar looking black sedan and when the driver pulled up along the curb next to her, she recognized him too.

"You!" she accused. "You left me!"

"Avalon is ready for you," he said without preempt.

"If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you're mad," Morgan said. "Not after you just vanished like that!"

"You weren't ready, but now you are," he replied.

"Ready for what?" she asked.

"Ready to hear the truth," he said.

"Look, I don't know who you are or what this Avalon is, but I've had just about enough truth for one week," she snapped.

"They just wish to speak with you – they have a deal they wish to offer you," the man pressed. "You can back out if you want. You'll never hear from them again. But you need to hear them out."

"I don't need to do anything," she said, standing taller. If she was really Morgana then no one could force her to do anything she didn't want to do.

"You'll be left wondering if you don't come."

Morgan wanted to say he was wrong, but she knew he was right. A.V.A.L.O.N. was a place of mystery, and she found she wanted to get to the bottom of it. It couldn't just be coincidence that it took after the same name as the place Merlin and Liz now went to in search of Arthur. Maybe this was just the clue she needed to help fill in the gaps. The driver had said that she could back out at any time. She was under no obligation to do anything for this organization. She thought back to Merlin's warning not to speak to anyone else involved with Camelot, but Morgan couldn't just sit and do nothing. She wanted answers. "Fine," she said. "Take me there, but I want to be back before night fall. And I'm not signing anything." She opened the backdoor and slid in.

The drive took half an hour. The bridge that had gone down during the storm was up again and didn't show any signs of damage. Morgan leaned forward when White Castle came into view. The bigger city was everything that Ealdor was not.

Three-story Victorian houses lined the clean streets and there were chain stores and even a mall. Most of the buildings downtown were decorated in Art Deco style and still had their original façades. A restored castle sat high up on a hill overlooking the city and giving it its name. "They give tours on the weekends. Some rich man from the south bought it a few years ago," the driver told her.

A.V.A.L.O.N. headquarters were centered in downtown much to Morgan's surprise. She half expected it to be hidden away behind locked gates at the outskirts of town. It was a modern-looking building with tinted glass and simple lettering above the door that read: A.V.A.L.O.N. Agency. The driver parked in front of the building and opened the door for Morgan. "Go right on in," he told her. "The receptionist will point you in the right direction. I'll be waiting for you when you're done."

"Are you sure about that?" she asked.

"I'll get you back to Ealdor," he replied.

"How do you know I want to go back there?" she asked. "How do you know I don't want to go back to London?"

"Because everything you're searching for is in Ealdor," he said.

Well that was perfectly vague. Why did everyone else seem to know more about her life than she did? "Fine," she said before heading into the building. The inside was modern and sparsely furnished. Photos of models lined the walls making it seem perfectly legitimate. A receptionist sat behind a sleek black counter, poring over some papers behind black, plastic-framed glasses. She looked up when Morgan approached, tucking her straight, red hair behind her ear and smiling.

"What can I do for you?" she asked.

"I'm Morgan le Fay. I have an appointment, I think," Morgan replied, hating how hesitant she sounded.

The receptionist didn't seem to notice though. She looked over at her computer screen, clicking the mouse. "Yes. I'll take you in right away." She led Morgan down a narrow hall to the very last door. She tapped lightly and opened it, ushering Morgan in. "Nimueh will be with you in a moment," she said before shutting the door behind her.

Morgan stood alone in a small office, looking around her and fighting back her nerves. The office gave little away about the establishment. There were no photos on the wall and the desk's surface was clear except for a small desk lamp and a sleek Mac. Two black, leather chairs were settled in front of the desk. There was an adjoining door to the left, and as Morgan looked at it, it opened and a pretty woman walked through. Her eyes were shockingly blue especially against her pale skin and dark hair. Her hair was woven with feathers and her lips were painted bright red. She certainly looked like a model. Why did Morgan not believe for a minute that A.V.A.L.O.N. was that sort of agency anymore? There was too much coincidence behind it.

"Hello, Miss le Fay," the woman spoke in a strong voice. She took a seat behind her desk and motioned for Morgan to sit in one of the black, leather chairs in front of the desk. Morgan sat, keeping her eyes on the woman. "My name is Nimueh, and I'm the founder of A.V.A.L.O.N.," she said. "Have you heard of us?"

Morgan shook her head. "Your company contacted me through my old agency," she said.

"Then you're here for a modeling job."

"I'm not sure anymore," Morgan said carefully. "Are you that kind of agency?"

"I'm going to be honest with you, Morgan," Nimueh said. "We're not an agency for models. But we are an agency for a very special type of person. You fit right into that category. Can you guess what it is?"

"Does it have something to do with Camelot?" Morgan asked.

"Then you know about your past?" Nimueh asked, looking less surprised than Morgan felt.

"I do, but I don't remember it," Morgan admitted.

"Then you know that you had magic in your past life."

"Why does it matter? I don't have it now." She wasn't sure she wanted it. If magic was thought to be evil in Camelot 900 hundred years ago then it was most certainly going to be evil today. Such things weren't tolerated in a world of practicality and religion.

"It matters because that's what we're here for. A.V.A.L.O.N. is an agency for those who have magic and need somewhere to go. We help train people to both control and use their powers for good so that they can live as normal a life as possible out there in the real world. We're a sort of shelter for those in need."

"How is it you know all about magic and who I am? I can't remember anything." Frustration gnawed at her though she still wasn't certain she did want to remember.

"I cannot say why some were chosen to remember and why some were not," the woman told her. "I was told of this future in Avalon after I died. I was sent back to shelter those in need."

"And you think I need your help?"

"I think that you might need some guidance when your memories start to come back," Nimueh told her.

"You mean when I start to remember how evil I was?" Morgan asked bitterly.

"You have another chance to start again."

"Everyone keeps telling me that."

"And do you believe it?"

"I want to," Morgan said, realizing how true this was. "More than anything."

"Then will you let us help you?" Nimueh asked.

Morgan's thoughts flitted back to Merlin's warning to stay away from anyone associated with Camelot. He hadn't mentioned a Nimueh, and she had no idea what her affiliation was.

"I'll think about it," she said.

"That's all I ask," Nimueh said. "Your memories won't be gone forever. There is something blocking them, but I sense the one called Emrys will soon fix that."

"What do you mean?" Morgan asked remembering that Merlin was also called Emrys.

"He goes in search of the lost king, does he not? Once Arthur awakens so shall your memories."

"And my magic?"

"Yes." Morgan fought back the urge to call Liz and tell her to turn around and give it up. "Before you leave there's someone who wants to see you," Nimueh told her. "If you'll allow it."

Morgan hesitated for a moment. "All right," she agreed.

"Wait here, I'll only be a moment," Nimueh told her, getting up from her seat and heading into the adjoining room again. She was gone a minute and then another woman walked through the door. She was the complete opposite of Nimueh. Her hair was blonde and delicately curled with little crystal beads woven in. Her eyes were brown and rimmed with eyeliner. She smiled at Morgan. There was something achingly familiar about her though Morgan couldn't place her. Then the woman spoke.

"Hello, sister," she said. "It's been far too long."