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Chapter 8 Part 1
Morgana circled the helpless girl for a moment, and as she did so, even Uther could see that this was not the girl he had raised. The king could feel the others eyes upon him, questioning his sudden decision to try and help the girl, but he honestly didn't care. Let them wonder. Uther Pendragon explained himself to very few people, and servants and his son were not among them. Secretly he wasn't sure himself why he had wanted to save the wretched creature; she who would ruin his family line with her magical blood…only that in the moment, in this memory that no one would see again, he had needed to. So he had stepped forward, pointlessly. Perhaps his son was right and the strain of Morgause's spell had… done something to his mind.
He knew a number of things. As he watched a once sweet girl prepare to torture a child, he knew that magic corrupted. He knew that Gaius, despite his words earlier, was not exactly his friend, but the closest that Uther would ever come to in this life. He knew that Arthur thought him heartless, especially after seeing this little production. And he knew that the boy, Merlin, had to be put to death so long as he was aware of the magic inside of him. These things were reality.
But he was finding that it was hard to hang onto that reality while he was in this place, this memory. And so he stepped back, out of the way of the dream figures and allowed them to play out. Because the sooner they could get out of here, the sooner he could make sense of the world again. Iana had backed herself up against a tree, Morgana circling the girl and oak, watching with measuring eyes. Iana reached slowly for her pouch while Morgana was behind her but quickly the witch threw out a hand and the bag flew into it, ripping from the girls neck. His ward rolled her eyes as she looked down at her victim. "Save your gift girl. I have no intention of killing you. Why would I have gone through the trouble of saving you?" She let the bag hang off her fingers mockingly. "Why would I have given these to your father?" The four stared as they flashed back to the memory in Gaius' tower; Morgana placing the small stones on the book.
"It was you? You went to Avalon?" While she asked, Morgana held out a hand and whispered under her breath. Silver tendrils escaped her fingertips, wrapping aroung Iana's injured leg. The magic pulsed for a moment and then faded away, the gash that had opened on the thigh closing before their eyes.
The dark haired woman threw the bag to Iana. "Many times," her voice took on a quality that Uther had never heard, as if she was seeing something he couldn't imagine. "The land of kings is only closed to those who are not yet destined for it." She cocked her head, giving the girl a knowing glance. "Your father, for instance, cannot yet cross the final shore. Not until the Once and Future King has come to Albion's coast for the last time." She trailed off, her raised eyebrow silently implying knowledge.
The girl stood, testing her balance on her once injured leg, blatantly ignoring the question Morgana was daring her to ask. "Why help me? You could have just let me die—gain your revenge."
Uther's ward snapped. "It's not you I want!" Her eyes flashed gold and a nearby tree cracked down the middle, toppling by the force of Morgana's rage. "Besides, I owe Merlin a debt of the Old Religion—one I've paid by helping you." She looked out at the tree, now decaying unnaturally fast as it lay on the forest floor, slowly catching fire along with the rest of the area. "Destruction is only as useful as its design. That sorcerer," she snarled, "was fire for no reason. A raging inferno is no good to anyone." She threw out her arms and the sky filled with clouds, the sound of rain slowly moving toward them. Her eyes gleamed with some dark memory. "But a controlled blaze…" She looked around at the burned land, smoldering as the rain finally reached them. "Sometimes destroying something is the only way to purify it—to free it."
"Like you freed magic?" Iana seemed more confident now, still a mess of blood and soot but able to stand on her own.
Morgana's eyes snapped to her, the contemplative, pensive look on her face morphing into another ugly sneer. "I see daddy's been telling tales. Well don't think you're so smart—you don't know me. I did free magic and myself by my actions." She turned away again, almost speaking to herself as she fingered her own blue bead, this time around her neck instead of her forehead. "Merlin thinks he's so smart—thinks he's the reason this world exists. But it was me!" She whirled in place, disappearing and then appearing right behind Iana, grabbing her hair and yanking it back so she could yell into the girls ear. "I'm the one who did what was needed! Me! Not the great Emrys!" She cackled and shoved the girl. Watching her, Arthur suddenly understood Iana's fear. In that moment, he feared her too. The prince glanced at Merlin and Gaius, who were watching the scene not with Uther's shock but with displeased concern. "I killed the king!" He snapped his gaze back to the girl who had always been like his sister. She truly looked mad now, laughing as the rain showered the pair. "I killed that murderer!"
Iana watched her from a distance, clutching her recovered pouch tightly. "You killed your own father." Uther's head snapped up and he looked intently at his daughter, looking for something—not finding it as she responded cruelly.
"He deserved it!" She scowled, the ugly expression marring her lovely face. "Uther Pendragon deserved to die—and I enjoyed watching the life bleed out of him as he did!" She stepped back, suddenly sane and calm, as if she was talking about the weather. "I deserved that privilege. To watch him suffer… just as he forced me to watch before... watch as every innocent suffered."
"And now you want Albion to fall? Your people to be destroyed?"
Morgana shook her head. "Albion… Albion and its king are not my concern. I've had my revenge, my vengeance." She looked at Iana, their blue eyes locking. "I will not save my brother's kingdom. But neither will I watch it be bastardized by the undeserving. Even now, young Cenred's forces are attacking Camelot." She looked into the distant, eyes seeing the unknown. "The little prince has gone to fight, but he's lost his way in the fog of Cenred's sorcerer's. The party attacks a city without its knights. My nephew will not make it in time-" she broke off and looked at Iana, face blank. "-and Arthur will die before he arrives…unless you arrive first." She pointed west. "Run little witch. Go now." Iana was already moving, darting through the forest, branches whipping at her face as she sprinted away from the sorceress. The four could feel themselves being tugged away as well but Arthur keep his feet, fighting the pull, wanting to see this strange version of his childhood companion a little longer. "Run, run," her face broke into a wicked smile as the girl disappeared from view, "for you will not do so again." A cold feeling rushed over the prince as he watched a younger man step out of the forest behind her.
His pale grey eyes took in the scene. "Why are you helping her save the king?" No emotion crossed the boys face, his blank expression more frightening than Morgana's madness. "When you promised to help me kill him?"
She stroked his black hair as if he was a child. "Patience, Mordred… patience. She'll die in the attempt—I have seen it. With the girl dead, Merlin will lose focus. And without Merlin… Arthur will be unprotected," her smile grew, "Killing him will be so much simpler with the warlock out of the way." A stabbing of betrayal pierced Arthur's heart. His knees lost their battle with his emotions and unlocked; as he fell to the ground he was whipped away, Merlin and his father beside him. The world grew dark as they were dragged behind Iana and away from Morgana, her dark dress and hair soaked by the magical storm, face alight as she planned his death.