A/N: Thanks for all your kind reviews and messages

Arthur felt like yelling with frustration as the guards related to him what had happened. Why had they done that? Why?

He'd been so close! He'd spend the entire night arguing with his father, trying to get Lancelot pardoned, not giving up like he would usually would out of respect for him, determined to do the right thing. In the midst of this heated argument, the warning bells had sounded.

What's more, what had remained of Uther's fragile sanity had snapped. He was back in his chambers infused with Gaius' draughts, once more ranting and raving. Arthur was on his own once more.

And now he was truly alone. Gwaine, Lancelot and … Gwen, the three people he thought he could trust the most. And now they were all gone.

He was alone now in the throne room, and the walls seemed to be closing in on him. He found it hard to breathe. Gwen … Guinevere … how could she do this to him?

He should have seen it coming. She had maintained from the start that Merlin was innocent, and had tried to convince him of that every day. It wasn't really surprising that she had done this. Lancelot had been about to be executed, of course Gwen, kind sweet Gwen, would not have let that happen.

But was it only because of her belief in his innocence, or because she still had some traces of feelings for him?

Arthur paced around the throne room, trying to fight against the overwhelming pressure. Had they all been enchanted by Merlin? Was that were they all were now, gone off to meet him? Were they all now in danger?

He had no doubt now that they all believed they were doing the right thing; Gwen and Gwaine would never have tried to help Lancelot if they thought he was genuinely on the Wandrian's side. They all believed in what they were doing. But did that mean they were right? How could so many of his trusted friends believe the same thing? Was that an indication that he was the one in the wrong here? How could so many of them do this if there wasn't some element of truth to everything they claimed?

He pulled out the tooth from his pocket once more, still not having sent it off to the vaults. Was this really just a symbol of the friendship between Gwaine and Merlin? Had Merlin somehow come into Camelot to heal Gwaine? Was that why they trusted him?

Was Merlin truly on their side? Why would they help him if they didn't? They couldn't all be mistaken.

Fear for Guinevere's safety ran through him like an icy cold fire. Had she willingly plunged herself into danger believing she was helping Camelot? Or had she shown true bravery and went after Merlin for all the right reasons?

She didn't have an evil bone in her body. If she believed in Merlin this badly then surely …

He had to find them, Arthur decided. He had to find them and sort all of this out. And now he wouldn't be subtle about it, or accept thinly veiled excuses. He wanted the truth, all of it. He would go insane otherwise. He had to know.

"You!" he called to the guard standing outside the hall. "Summon the Knights. We ride out immediately to search for them."

I'm going insane … I'm going insane …

Just hold on a little while longer ….

I can't … I can't take this …

Only two more days …

Merlin was walking around and around the Wandrian village trying to turn away the tortured thoughts he was having. He was breathing heavily and shaking from head to toe. The screams from the villages and stench of death that emanated from their rotten forms wasn't helping much either.

The Elders had now placed guards along the edge of the forest; they weren't allowing anyone to enter the trees. Supposedly, this was for security, but Merlin knew the real reason was to prevent him getting to the tree. They were trying to drive him mad. And he had to admit, it was working.

He continued going around and around, talking to himself, repeating the names of his friends over and over, picturing their faces in his mind to try and keep himself calm.

Gehola wasn't here, and Merlin had no idea why. He couldn't have left could he? Where could he go? Had the Wandrian seized him to try and send Merlin even further into maddened isolation?

He needed Gehola here, he needed someone to talk to, to try and take his mind off the monstrous shadows that filled his thoughts.

He hunched over, leaning against the walls of the castle after his fiftieth circuit of the village. He rocked back and forth, hugging his body, closing his eyes. Please, please let this be over soon.

"Ha ha! In pain is he? At least he hasn't got the Eyes yet, that would be bad!"

Merlin looked up to find a man from the village staring down at him, his insane eyes rolling in his head. He was naked to the waist, and Merlin vaguely recognised him.

"Nacod?" Merlin asked. He remembered now; this was the insane man who had been spouting prophecy all around the village when Merlin had first arrived. He was the one who had said that Merlin could fall to darkness, that it would result in a death. Merlin felt an almost suffocating sense of unease.

Nacod merely laughed manically. "That's what they call me! And what do they call you? Emrys? Or Merlin? Which are you these days?"

Merlin looked away, unsettled. "I don't know anymore."

"That's a problem," said Nacod. "A man who doesn't know who he is can lose himself easily without even realising it is happening. The darkness is descending."

"Unless you have something useful to say, leave me alone!" yelled Merlin, his anger suddenly and uncontrollably riled. A spell sprang to his lips that would kill this insane old man but he kept it down with difficulty.

Nacod continued laughing. "It's happening! It's happening!"

Merlin held his hands over his head. He couldn't listen to this.

"The time is drawing closer, Emrys!" Nacod said, cackling once more in his insanity. "Samhain approaches! Death draws ever closer!"

Stop it … stop it … please …

"The Bewitan will be overrun, and their guardianship shall be over! They cannot stop what will come to pass!"

Merlin looked up suddenly intrigued despite the raging anger and fear he still felt within him. "The Bewitan? Who are they?"

Nacod laughed yet again. "They guard the Portal, Emrys! Have done since the last time it was opened! But they cannot stop the Prophesied One. They won't do anything to stop her. They trust in Emrys to save them. But does Emrys trust in himself?"

"Where are they?" Merlin asked, leaping to his feet. "Where can I find these Bewitan?"

But Nacod just continued laughing and ran off, leaving Merlin with his anger rising once more.

He yelled and set fire to a dead bush that was up against the castle wall. His hands shook with anger. How was he supposed to do this? He couldn't last here until Samhain! He had to find out where this Portal was and get there before the Wandrian!

He moaned and fell back to the ground, his back against the wall.

Gehola … I need you here. You have to help me. I'm going insane …

"You summoned me?" Morgana said, walking into the Council Chambers, finding the three Elders sitting at the table facing her. She wrinkled her nose at the stench and avoided looking at their rotten faces, instead choosing to stare at some spot behind their heads.

"We understand you've been spending some time with Emrys?" Gamol asked, wheezing.

"What of it?" Morgana asked, though feeling uncomfortable. How much did they know or guess about the conflict in her mind these last few days? "There is little else to do around here, and he is our ally is he not?"

"Depends on how you look at it," muttered Wrecan but the others ignored him.

"Is he succumbing to Dark Magic?" Hafela asked of her, and they all fixed her with eager expressions.

Morgana hesitated for a moment about how to answer. "He's … struggling."

The Elders exchanged gleeful looks. "It is as we hoped," Hafela cackled. "I told you, none can withstand the power of the Noble Art."

Morgana had to resists laughing out loud. Noble Art? She had never seen anything less noble in her life.

"Emrys will be on our side by Samhain," said Hafela, leaning back in his chair, comfortably, his black eyes glinting, "and then we can be absolutely certain he will not betray us."

"I still say we kill him," said Wrecan, glaring. "He's too risky. I don't believe all the crap he comes out with."

"He's too powerful to lose," said Gamol. "He could be a dangerous enemy."

"So kill him!"

"We don't know how powerful his magic is," said Gamol loudly. "He could easily best us."

Wrecan scowled. "You mean his pathetic Old Religion magic could defeat us? Impossible! I could kill him easily!"

"You will not touch him, Wrecan," said Hafela. "Gamol is right. If we want to take Camelot, we need him. Once he has been fully converted, he will be invaluable."

Morgana was beginning to feel dizzy with the stench of decay in the room. She recoiled in revulsion. The way they were talking. So coldly about death and destruction …. she needed to leave.

"If that is all," she said, "there are things I would rather be getting on with."

"A moment," said Hafela, leering. "That was not the sole reason we summoned you to this room."

At his words, all three Elders burst out into more laughter and Morgana felt a sense of dread growing within her.

"What is it?" she asked, and a sudden inexplicable fear gripped her.

Hafela grinned and exposed his rotten mouth. He picked up a small scroll of parchment that was lying on the table in front of him. He unrolled it with a flourish and leered at her after he had read it through. He said nothing for a moment, enjoying keeping her in suspense. Morgana felt her heart beat faster. She knew whatever was written on that scroll wasn't good news.

Hafela adopted a look of condescending sympathy as he opened his mouth again. "We received this scroll this morning. It came from the Isle of the Blessed and the spy we placed there. It is regarding your sister."

Morgana's heart stopped. No …

He grinned again. "It appears that yesterday Morgause succumbed to her injuries. She is dead."

"Are you sure you're alright with us staying here?" Gwen asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Any friends of Emrys, are friends of ours," the woman Druid said again, bowing. But Gwen couldn't help but feel uneasy.

Gehola had brought them here just as the day was breaking, after losing his way a few times having never been here before, and the Druids had poured out of their huts and buildings to greet them; none of them seemed surprised to see them. They'd been welcomed into the main meeting area for the leaders of this Druid clan and hadn't even needed an explanation for why they were here.

"It is written," they had said. "Our part is a small one, but vital if Emrys is to succeed in his mission."

So the Elders had given them all food to eat and place to sleep, and now it was mid-afternoon and Gwen, Gwaine, Lancelot and Gehola were all gathered around a small fire, eating. None of them felt comfortable.

"Aren't we putting you in danger?" Lancelot asked the woman.

She smiled. "The Knights of Camelot cannot find us here. Gehola only found us because his family were of our kin. We have waited for him to return to us."

Gehola squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't remember my parents," he said. "And my aunt never really spoke much about here."

"Your aunt was an unfortunate victim," said the woman gravely. "We still mourn her passing and her fall into the Evil Art. But you are welcome here. You could have come here many years ago and been free from the horrors of that land. Why did you not?"

Gehola looked down at his feet. "I was afraid." He admitted. "I never left the valley because I was afraid of what I would find outside it. I'd heard so many stories about the evil that lived here, how people would try and kill me for who I was. I was afraid of the Wandrian, but afraid of Camelot more."

Gwen felt a huge upsurge of pity for the boy. She could see why Merlin had befriended him.

"It's just awful," she said. "To think, you've suffered alone all these years because of Camelot. Uther is supposed to be a king that protects his people, but he was only ever someone to be feared for you. To think you were actually less afraid of the Wandrian than Camelot!"

"It isn't right," said Lancelot, shaking his head. "And I hope that one day Arthur can reverse what was done."

"Do you think he will?" Gehola asked hopefully. "Merlin says he will. That Arthur isn't like his father."

Lancelot glanced to Gwen, and she nodded. "He will," she said firmly. "It might take a while, after all, this is going against everything he's ever been taught in life. But he's a good man, and he recognises cruelty and unfairness when he sees it. He'll be a better king."

They all nodded. Gwen looked down at her plate of food and couldn't help but feel pained as she thought of Arthur. How had he taken the news of their escape? What was he thinking of her now?

"I should be back with Merlin,' said Gehola. "I shouldn't have stayed here at all. Wellan said I should be back before sunrise and I've been much longer than that."

"You won't be in trouble?" Gwen asked in concern.

Gehola shrugged. "Probably not. I can usually outwit them, they aren't too intelligent. I have to go back.'

"You have to bring Merlin back here," said Gwaine. "He can't stay in that place."

"I'll try," said Gehola doubtfully. "But …"

His face crumpled. "I haven't been able to do anything for him," he said, frustrated. "I've tried, but nothing I do seems to make any difference. I don't think I can convince him to come. I don't know what to do."

Gwen immediately went to his side and put her arm around him. He stiffened in surprise and looked up at her with wide eyes. She could tell instantly that never before had he experienced such a kind gesture. Her pity increased.

"Just be there for him, Gehola," she said, smiling. "Merlin can defeat this, we know he can. But he needs to know that his friends are with him. Bring him back if you can, but if not, just be there for him. He needs a friend like you."

Gehola shook his head miserably. "I'm just useless. I'm an enigma, Merlin says so. I can resist the magic, but I don't know why exactly and I can't help Merlin do it."

"Just be there for him," she repeated. "Merlin needs us all now more than ever."

Gehola nodded, and looked more confident. "Alright. I'll go back. For Merlin."

Merlin was sitting bolt upright on his bed, trying to block out the sounds of distant screaming that seemed to echo from the very castle itself. He had now given up replacing the wards around his room. They wore down every half an hour, and his magic was best preserved trying to fight away this evil.

He closed his eyes. Arthur, Gwen, Gwaine, Lancelot, Gaius, Elyan, Leon, Percival, Gehola, Mother. Arthur, Gwen, Gwaine, Lancelot, Gaius, Elyan, Leon, Percival, Gehola, Mother. He couldn't forget them … he wouldn't allow himself to … this is who he was doing it for …

But with every recitation, their faces and the good times they'd shared seemed to fade away a little bit more, like trying to hold water in his hands, they were slowly draining away.

Now, all he could see in front of him was death … death, shadows, decay … he was fading. He felt the darkness eating away inside of him, corrupting his mind, body and soul. It was endless.

"Emrys."

Merlin opened his eyes, and saw Wrecan standing in the doorway to his chambers, leering smugly at him.

"Finding it difficult to resist are we?" he cackled.

"What do you want, Wrecan?" Merlin replied in a cold voice so unlike his own.

Wrecan glared at him. "You are to come with me. A Camelot Knight has been spotted near our borders. We are to dispatch him."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "He cannot enter here, the clearing is the only entrance and that can only be reached with magic."

"Nevertheless, we are to kill him."

"And why do you need my help?" Merlin asked, glaring back at him with equal measure. "Can't you handle him on your own?"

"I want to speak with you, Emrys," said Wrecan. "Somewhere Hafela will not hear."

Merlin laughed coldly. "Secrets and lies. The Wandrian are certainly full of them. You're up to something that Hafela does not approve of, and that must indeed mean it is something despicable."

"Will you come or not, Emrys?" Wrecan asked, spitting at him. "Are you afraid?"

"I am not," replied Merlin, feeling the rising darkness within him speaking out. "I will come."

He stood up and followed Wrecan from the room. At least he would get outside of this god-awful place.

He felt the darkness growing stronger and stronger within himself as he followed this despicable little man. Something was screaming at him to stop and turn back, that this was a bad idea, but he ignored it. The darkness was telling him to follow, so he did.

Wrecan led him out of the castle and through the village. The ravaged villagers screamed and ran away when they saw him coming. Wrecan laughed at their frightened faces.

They approached the Forest of No Life and the guards who were there drew back when they saw Wrecan approaching. They raised their eyebrows when they saw Merlin, but said nothing. None of them would dare question an Elder.

Wrecan led him through the dead trees for about twenty minutes. He was not heading to the clearing, and Merlin had not expected him to. There was no Knight. This was a meeting solely between Wrecan and Merlin. He couldn't wait.

Finally, Wrecan stopped in a small clearing in amongst the dead trees. He turned to face Merlin, and utter hatred was on his face.

"Foolish boy, following me out here, did you really believe me?"

"No," Merlin answered, "but to be honest, I couldn't wait for the opportunity to finally face you. I know you've been dying to do this since we first met, but what I'd like to know is why."

"Isn't it obvious?" sneered Wrecan. "You are Camelot's slave! You have no intention of betraying that city! I am no fool. That most recent attack, the swords of the Knights sliced right through our shields, almost as if they'd been enchanted. There have been no reports of mass rioting in Camelot through hunger, because they aren't starving. You have ordered that no one be killed because you are really on their side, as you have been the entire time!"

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "You aren't entirely stupid then? But why bring me out here now? Hafela is trying to convert me to Dark Magic. He thinks he will succeed before Samhain, why don't you?"

"Oh, I do not doubt it," said Wrecan, his black eyes still glaring at him. "You're already within our grasp Emrys, a few more hours and you will be one of us."

"Then why?" asked Merlin, feeling the darkness grow stronger within him as the last vestiges of reason faded from his mind. "Why now?"

"Because I don't want you on our side, Emrys," hissed Wrecan, looking livid. "You are not worth it! And I will not ally myself with a Dragonlord!"

Merlin smiled. "Ah, now we get to the real reason you have hated me from the beginning. You hate Dragonlords, and one particular Dragonlord especially."

Wrecan's eyes flashed. "You know then?"

"I know only that you had some altercation with the Dragonlord Balinor," said Merlin carefully, trying to suppress his inexplicable rage. "And that's why you bear that scar on your face."

"You are a Dragonlord," said Wrecan. "I could sense it the whole while. You stink of the Old Religion. You must have heard of Balinor."

"I have," smiled Merlin, feeling the darkness inside of him seize absolute control of his faculties. "He was my father."

Wrecan let out a yell of anger. "Now it makes me even gladder than I can kill you now!"

"What happened between you?" Merlin asked, determined to get the details. "Why do you hate him?"

Wrecan looked insane with anger. "He did this to me!" he yelled, gesturing to the scar. "He had lived in my village. He tried to turn me from the path of the Noble Art! And I fought him, I fought him but he bested me. That despicable excuse for a man left me for dead more than twenty years ago! Still, I do owe him. That encounter taught me to pursue this course with even more vigour, but I never forgot! I was determined to have my revenge, and if I cannot have it on him, then his son must do!"

Wrecan raised his palm and his black eyes seemed to glimmer in the darkness.

"You and me, Emrys," he hissed. "Forget Hafela's precious plan."

Merlin glared at Wrecan, and suddenly, it seemed as though what was left of his mind seemed to be enveloped in shadow. He wanted to kill Wrecan, right here and right now. He felt nothing but hatred, anger and revulsion. He raised his own palm, and laughed.

"Just try and kill me!"

Wrecan yelled. "Acwellan!"

His eyes burned green and a great torrent of energy came soaring towards him. "Hilderand!" Merlin countered, and the spell bounced off harmlessly. Wrecan looked surprised.

"I'm more powerful than you realise, Wrecan," Merlin heard himself say. "Bærnan sar!"

He sent a blast of power towards Wrecan rejoicing in the feeling of power that was emanating from him and relishing the darkness that was thriving inside of him. This was power. This was good.

Wrecan easily repelled the spell that came his way and with that spell, a whole section of his face turned black and rotten and slipped off, exposing a part of the skull. Merlin didn't even flinch.

"Wyrdan!"

"Egesa!"

The spells collided in mid-air and green and red jets of light spiralled off and hit the neighbouring trees with cracks of thunder and rebounding sparks. Merlin sustained the flow of energy into his spell. Wrecan did the same.

Merlin poured more and more of himself into the spell. He kept it going, feeling the darkness rushing through his body, delighting in the way that it drove him onwards, pushing him to give more and more power to the spell. Wrecan's eyes grew wide with fear as Merlin's spell gained dominance. Merlin laughed. He was afraid. He was weak. Merlin was powerful.

Suddenly, Wrecan's spell failed, and with a great burst of green light, faded out of existence. He let out an agonised yell as Merlin's spell hit him full on. He went flying back, his body limp in the air. He fell to the ground with a thud. He didn't move.

Merlin watched with cold eyes. He was dead.

He felt nothing. Only a distinct pleasure that was slowly growing within him as he looked down at Wrecan's ruined and lifeless form. The dark monster inside of him roared with satisfaction.

He took a step closer. The force of the spell had blasted a hole right through Wrecan's chest, exposing yet more ruined and rotten flesh that stank with decay. Merlin smiled.

Then, unbidden, a tiny little voice sprung up in the back of his mind. He frowned; what was this?

It came to him as a distant memory, a small echoing of the person that he used to be. The words of a prophecy he had read in Camelot, oh so long ago:

'The darkness shall consume the world and Emrys shall be feared and worshiped by all who survive the Purge of the Light.

A death shall mark his descent, a descent into the darkest form of existence. Only another death, can bring him back to the light, a sacrifice of one about whom he cares. If he succeeds he will lead the lands into a new era of light and golden days, if he fails, the world will descend into a fiery hell.'

Then, the darkness in Merlin's mind seemed to evaporate instantly. He cried out in sheer horror and fell to his knees, appalled at what he had done. He shook and breathed heavily, wrapping his arms around his body. What had he done?

He looked up at Wrecan's body in utter revulsion. He had killed him. He had allowed to darkness to take control.

Was there any hope for him now?

Merlin felt his magic filling his veins with fire as he fought harder against the darkness than he ever had before. A death marked his decent into darkness, and only another death could pull him out of it.

But who?

Merlin stood up hurriedly, and shook himself off, looking away from Wrecan's body. He wouldn't let it happen. He would fight this. He could feel his resistance to it growing with every passing second. He had failed the first test. He couldn't fail another.

He stumbled off through the woods, still feeling the horror of what had just occurred. He had to leave this realm. He had to leave before he succumbed entirely. He would be no use to Camelot in this state. If he stayed much longer, he would turn into their enemy.

He shuddered, and drew desperately on the magic that was rushing throughout his body. He was stronger than this! He had to fight it!

He burst out of the trees and took off towards the castle, ignoring the cries of the people in the village. He had to get out of this place, but he had something to do first. He saw her leaving the castle gates before he even got there.

"Morgana!" he called, and she turned and looked at him. Her face was expressionless.

"We need to leave, now!" he said, looking into her face with an urgency that he had never done before. "Wrecan is dead. He attacked me and I was almost turned to Dark Magic. I need to leave if we're going to stop the Portal from being opened. Come with me! I know that this isn't what you want."

But Morgana just stared at him, no expression on her face.

"Leave?"

"Yes," he moaned. "Please, now! We need to go! Don't lie Morgana, I know you've been faltering. You need to come with me."

"I don't need to help you," Morgana said, her tone flat. "My sister is dead."

Merlin took a step back in shock. "What?"

"We got notice this afternoon," she said, still in that expressionless tone. "She died. From the injuries you inflicted on her."

Merlin shook his head in horror. No! Not now … not after so much effort in changing her … no … it couldn't all have been for nothing!

"Morgana," he said, trying to keep calm. "Please, you have to come. She wouldn't want this. She wouldn't want you to do this."

Morgana's eyes flashed with anger. "And how do you know?" she screeched. "You didn't know her! You killed her!"

"Morgana, please!" he begged. "Remember everything that we've been through this last while. What use is there in destroying the entire world?"

"Because I no longer have any reason for living in it," said Morgana, her eyes a pool of agony. "She was the only one who cared."

"I care!" Merlin said. "I care about you Morgana, why do you think I tried so hard to save you? I didn't have to! I could just have killed you! But I care!"

"Morgause is dead," Morgana repeated, her anger growing. "And now I have nothing left to live for, I might as well destroy this world along with me. It was this world that drove her and me into hiding. It should pay for what it did! I don't care about myself anymore!"

"Morgana!"

"NO!" she screamed, looking insane, and her eyes flashed golden. She unleashed a torrent of pure magic from within her, completely uncontrollable and it sent Merlin flying back through the air. He hit the ground and coughed. He rolled over immediately and leapt up again. She looked at him with pure hatred in her eyes.

"You killed her," she said, and her voice broke and tears spilled from her eyes. "You killed her …"

Merlin didn't know what to say to this. He couldn't deny it.

"Please, Morgana," he asked. "See past your grief for now. Think about the bigger picture. Don't you want to make sure no one suffers the way the two of you did again?"

Morgana glared at him.

"Merlin!"

Caught off guard, Merlin turned and saw Gehola sprinting towards him. He looked frenzied.

"Merlin! You need to come with me!"

Morgana glared at him. "You are his ally. You will die too!"

And she unleashed another uncontrolled burst of energy towards the two of them. Gehola yelled, and Merlin only just managed to raise a shield in time.

"Please, Morgana!" Merlin begged one last time. "You don't have to do this!"

She replied with another scream and instinctive and uncontrolled spell.

"Come on!" Gehola yelled, and dragged Merlin away. Merlin fought him. He couldn't leave her! Not now!

But Morgana continued throwing spells at him and Gehola pulled at Merlin, and together they broke out into a run away from the castle, away from their last hope of saving Morgana.

"Gehola! We have to help her!" Merlin shouted as they ran. But Gehola shook his head.

"You need to leave Merlin!"

The villagers cried out and tried to grab at them as they ran through the village, throwing spell after spell at them. It was all Merlin could do to repel all this Dark Magic, let alone try and get back to Morgana. Still, Gehola led the way, pulling at Merlin's sleeve. Merlin followed him dumbly, still submerged in his nightmare.

They reached the forest again, and the guards tried to attack them, but Merlin's magic was too powerful for them. They raced past them and up the hill towards the clearing, hearing the Wandrian coming after them, hurling powerful spells at their backs.

Merlin ran, despite the overwhelming urge to return for Morgana. He couldn't save her now. He had to get out before he fully succumbed. He had to trust in her, trust that she'd come to her senses.

They emerged out into the clearing where some other sorcerer tried to attack them. Merlin easily overpowered him as Gehola uttered a Transportation Spell to get both of them out of here, Merlin not even paying attention to the location. He was in a dream, some crazy dream that just couldn't be real.

He felt himself be carried off by the spell and he didn't care where he went. All hope he'd had in defeating the Wandrian lay behind him. They were leaving without Morgana. What chance did they have now?

A/N: Please leave a review!

Next update will be very soon.