Warning: this chapter contains the final battle with Sarrum, so there will be deaths ahead.

"It's all my fault. I never should have pushed her to appear before the court, made her overexert herself-"

"Don't say that, Merlin. Of course it's not your fault," Gwen said firmly, reaching over Morgana's unconscious form to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. "She seemed fine right up until the end, so how could you have known she was about to pass out?"

"No, you couldn't have known," Arthur agreed, running his fingers through his hair. While Merlin and Gwen sat beside the patient's cot in the infirmary where Morgana lay, alternately holding her hands and pressing cold cloths to her forehead, he paced the limited available space like a caged lion. "It's just like her to push herself past her limits, and not let on that she's unwell until she keels over. She always was infernally stubborn..."

"I'm sure these silly things didn't help either," Gaius grumbled, gesturing to the diamond-encrusted clasp and gold coronet he had removed from Morgana's hair when they brought her in. "I can't tell you how many ladies come to me seeking cures for headaches that could easily be remedied if only they didn't insist on wearing pounds of jewels on their heads all day long! Had she asked me, I would have told her to leave them off until she felt better."

"As if I would ever consult a man on matters of fashion," came a weak retort from the cot. Everyone immediately fell silent and clustered around to watch as Morgana opened her eyes, peering up at them in bewilderment. "What happened? How did I get here?"

"You fainted, darling," Merlin informed her, worry still etched on his face as he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.

"In front of the entire court," Arthur added, though without the edge of mockery that typically would have accompanied such a statement.

A small frown creased the skin between her eyebrows when she heard that. "Did I? How embarrassing. But why...?"

"The strain of returning to court seems to have been too much for you. You really should have told Merlin and Arthur you were tired," Gaius chided her.

"I don't think I was," Morgana protested. "It was almost over anyway, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Gwen confirmed, "until that messenger showed up with some outlandish tale about Saxons in the desert-"

With those words, Morgana remembered what had brought on her fainting spell, and the little color that had come back to her face promptly drained away again; even her lips went white, and she bolted upright on the cot, only to end up reeling as the blood rushed from her head. For a moment it looked as though she might fall out of bed, but Merlin was quick to catch her before that happened.

Arthur, Gwen, and Gaius pressed in around her, all voicing their concern, but she waved them away. "Really, I'm fine... Would you mind stepping out, please? I need a moment alone with Merlin."

Her request was met with a wave of objections, which she blocked out by burying her face in Merlin's shoulder. How she wished they would just be quiet, just leave... There was a flash of gold behind her closed eyelids, and the three of them suddenly found themselves in a corridor whose outermost wall was lined with a series of mullioned, frosted glass windows, which they knew to be on the other side of the castle.

"You know," Arthur remarked, "I'm really starting to hate it when they do that."

###

Back in the infirmary, Merlin gently tilted his wife's head up so he could peer into her face. "Talk to me, Morgana. Why are you so upset over this ridiculous story?"

"Because it isn't a story," she whispered, still leaning on him even as she fought the urge to hide her face again. "Merlin, I...I've been there, in that fortress, I've met him...Sarrum..."

He felt her body tremble against his, and held her tighter. He had always suspected there was more to the story of her kidnapping than she had told him, and that this omission had to do with the cause of her night terrors, as well as the haunted look he sometimes saw in her eyes; Agravaine had never inspired that sort of fear in her. "What did he do to you?"

Morgana shook her head, apparently unwilling or unable to articulate whatever horrors Sarrum had subjected her to, but one hand went to her throat, rubbing at it as if to ease some choking pressure.

"Did he put on that collar you were wearing when I found you?" Merlin demanded.

She nodded, now staring down at her free hand where it lay clenched in her lap and struggling to keep her voice steady. "After I escaped from Agravaine and Kara, his men caught me. He took me to his desert stronghold, where he...he threw me in this hellish pit... The collar was enchanted to prevent me from starving to death, since no one ever came to feed me. All that time down there in the dark, without a single glimpse of the light or any sound except my own screams, at least until my voice gave out, and my arms chained so that I could hardly move... It truly is a miracle that I didn't go mad in that hole, Merlin."

"I'm so sorry, Morgana." The words felt painfully inadequate, as did his attempts to soothe her by stroking her hair, but it was all he could think of to do. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you, and not even I have the power to step back through time and erase what he did to you, but I swear by the Goddess I will make him pay for it."

"No!" She clutched at his shirt and lifted her tearstained face to gaze beseechingly at him - just as he suddenly recalled her doing when he first mentioned his plans to go south with Arthur to hunt down the last of the Saxons. "Sarrum is no ordinary sorcerer; he has a crystal - a corrupted, obscene abomination of a thing - that he uses to steal magic from others. He preys on his own kind, tortures them in ways too horrible to speak of, and you would be the ultimate prize, so you mustn't go near him! Please, Merlin!"

She already knew her entreaties were useless, though, even as she sensed through their bond that hearing her plead with him like this and having to refuse her cut him worse than any blade ever could. "I'm sorry, Morgana," he repeated, "but I have no choice. Sarrum has to be stopped...but I won't ask you to face him. You never have to see that monster again."

Instead of taking solace from that promise, she stiffened in his arms and pulled back ever so slightly, a hint of her old spark resurfacing through the fear and anguish. "So you expect me to wait here, tormenting myself with thoughts of what he might be doing to you? No, if you're determined to risk your life and soul on this endeavor then I'll be by your side until the end...whatever end may come." Though she wouldn't say so out loud, knowing he wouldn't approve, she had no interest in living without him.

"Then there's nothing to worry about," Merlin said with a touch of his customary good humor, though there was an undercurrent of grim steeliness in his tone and a hard, cold look in his eyes. "After all, Sarrum may not be an ordinary sorcerer, but neither are we."

###

Over the next week, Arthur, Merlin, and their allies gathered all the knights and soldiers who were fit to fight so soon after Camlann and prepared to move them to Deorham's southernmost border, having enlisted several dragons to aid in their transportation. During this time, they instructed their scouts to keep their eyes on the desert, yet every report indicated that Sarrum was sitting safely behind the walls of his fort, apparently doing nothing with his newly acquired Saxon army. Nevertheless, there was no doubt in any of their minds that he was far from idle; on the contrary, they suspected that he was simply lying in wait, perhaps even setting a trap.

"After all, he and his ancestors have been holed up in that sandpit for centuries," Gwaine pointed out in one of their strategy sessions. "Each generation probably added a new layer of nasty enchantments to the place."

At last the time for their departure arrived, and Merlin was busy overseeing the task of getting groups of knights mounted up while ensuring the dragons' cooperation (luckily, Kilgharrah appreciated the seriousness of the threat Sarrum posed and had volunteered his services despite feeling that the chore of ferrying warriors was beneath him, inspiring his kin to follow his example) when Gwen tapped him on the shoulder and whispered, "What is she doing here?"

Turning to follow her gaze, Merlin saw Nimueh striding into their midst, dressed for battle in a pair of sturdy boots and accompanied by two priests of the Blood Guard. Leaving the knights, he hurried to intercept her, while Morgana came over from the opposite side of the courtyard. Neither of them had expected her to join them; in fact, they hadn't even been sure she was still in the castle, having lost track of her over the last few days. As always, she came and went as she pleased.

"Long ago, my predecessors undertook the task of ridding the world of this Sarrum's aberrant line and their foul dark magic, but they failed, allowing one to slip through their fingers," Nimueh explained before they could question her sudden reappearance. "Therefore I will go with you, to correct their error."

Merlin and Morgana exchanged a quick look before she spoke for both of them. "We're grateful for your help. Against Sarrum, I fear we'll need it."

###

Once everyone had landed at the rallying point in Deorham's southernmost village (where the newly crowned Queen Alinette, eager to prove her loyalty, was happy to supply their troops, in addition to sending her own knights to join their cause), they began work on what was perhaps the hardest part of their campaign: the task of actually finding Sarrum's abode. Despite having been there before, Morgana was at a loss; the barren desert offered no landmarks by which she could retrace the route her captors had taken, so she, Merlin, and Nimueh were forced to once again call upon Kilgharrah and his kin to carry out an airborne sweep.

Even on the backs of dragons, the search still seemed to drag on endlessly, and by the end of the second day Merlin thought he might go mad if he had to look at one more patch of sand, each identical to the last. Are you sure we haven't gone too far? he called across the miles between him and Morgana. Sarrum and his men were on horses when they took you, so surely they couldn't have covered much more ground than this in the time you said it took to reach the fortress.

There was no reply. Frowning, he reached for the thread of magic that connected him to his wife...and a wave of mind-numbing terror slammed into him, nearly causing him to slip off Kilgharrah's back. Morgana?!

It's here, Merlin. Her mental voice came to him as the merest whisper, choked with dread. I've found it.

Tracking her thoughts to their source, he urged Kilgharrah to take him there with all speed. Morgana was clutching a spike on her red dragon's neck when he reached her, her eyes fixed on a dark blot far below that stood out among the gathering shadows of twilight. "There it is," she said in that same barely audible, toneless timbre. "I had almost let myself begin to hope it was nothing more than a nightmare, and then it appeared out of the darkness like a ghost returning to haunt me... I dared not go closer for a better look, but I recognize the feel of the place. It's as if evil seeps from every stone... Can you feel it too?"

Merlin didn't know if he could, or if it was just her words, but as he stared down at that distant black mass, a feeling of foreboding crept into his bones, prickling at his spine and chilling his blood. He used a crystal spelled for instant communication to let Arthur know they had found Sarrum's lair, then turned back to Morgana, giving her a mental nudge to shake her out of her horrified trance. "It's not too late for you to turn back, you know. After what happened to you here, no one would see it as cowardice - and if they do, I'll deal with them."

At last, she tore her eyes off the fortress and looked over at him, her face white as a sheet yet fiercely determined. "I'm not going anywhere, Merlin. You and I are going to kill Sarrum together, and then I'll raze this accursed place to the ground."

###

It seemed to take an eternity for their forces to arrive, but finally they were all assembled outside Sarrum's gate, and Merlin called out a challenge to their enemy, his voice magically amplified so that it reverberated off the stone walls. "Sarrum of Amata! I hear you've been searching for me, the sorcerer you call Emrys - well, here I am! Come out and face me, if you have the courage!"

A long moment passed with no response, in which everyone held their breath; then, as the last echoes faded away, the gate opened and a detachment of guards and Saxons marched out - a very small detachment, numbering no more than a hundred and fifty men at best.

"Is that all there is?" Gwaine scoffed as they filed out of the fort. "There won't be enough of them to go around!"

"Careful," Lancelot cautioned under his breath. "I'm certain these weren't all that escaped Camlann."

Heedless of their disadvantage, the Saxons charged, so the knights of Albion naturally ran forward to meet them...and as they did, at least two hundred more came pouring out of the sand dunes where they had been hidden under a cloaking spell, converging on the knights from all sides. As they scrambled to fend off the unexpected attack, Gwaine could be heard shouting, "Now this is more like it!"

No one else shared his enthusiasm; they might be facing a smaller force than the horde of thousands that had descended on Camlann, but their own numbers were significantly reduced as well, and these surviving Saxons were even more vicious now that they were driven by anger over what had befallen their brethren and desperate to avoid meeting the same fate. Luckily for them, Merlin wasn't raining lightning down on them just yet, but rather biding his time along with Morgana and Nimueh, all three of them aware that the chaotic melee surrounding them was merely a diversion, while the true threat had yet to reveal himself.

"Where is he?" Merlin wondered aloud as he dispatched an axe-wielding warrior who had strayed too close to them with a wave of his hand. "Surely he's not hiding in his fortress?"

No sooner had he spoken than Morgana yelled, "Merlin, look out!" and shoved him out of the way just as a blade whistled through the air where his neck had been a second before, its owner having materialized out of nowhere. She brought her own sword up to parry the blow, and found herself staring into the face of her worst nightmare, his impenetrable black eyes glinting with cruel delight as he leered at her.

"Well, girl, it looks as if you've managed to bring my prize to me after all - but you've been holding out on me. I don't know how I failed to detect your magic before, but I'm going to enjoy ripping it from you. Afterward...I'm sure I'll find some entertaining uses for your body as well, now that I no longer need you as bait."

Somewhere inside her head, Morgana's inner voice was screaming at her that she wasn't the same lost, helpless girl she had been when he forced his way into her mind and threw her into that pit, but there was something about his abyssal gaze that turned her muscles to liquid, and the threat of having her magic torn from her again was enough to leave her paralyzed, powerless to do anything more than hold his sword at bay.

Seeing that his words had produced their desired effect, Sarrum turned his attention to Nimueh and Merlin. "So, the High Priestess of the Old Religion - that cult of sanctimonious bitches that drove my ancestors into this wasteland because you feared and envied what we alone dared to reach for, to achieve, while you sniveling cowards were content to accept only the power you were handed by your so-called Goddess - and the great Emrys, a mere boy." He shook his head, his mouth twisting in disgust. "This only proves my point; why would any deity grant such power to a weakling like you? Better if you had been drowned at birth, like the runt of a hunting dog's litter - but don't worry, that's a mistake I intend to remedy."

Galvanized by his vile words - because whatever happened to her, she would not let this monster get his hands on the man she loved - Morgana forced his blade down and away from her with such force that she nearly knocked it out of his grasp altogether, then made to follow up with a kick, but he swatted her to one side with a flick of his wrist, his eyes still locked on Merlin.

Under different circumstances, Merlin might have made some witty quip about endeavoring to meet his enemy's expectations, but not this time - not when he'd seen the wreck Morgana had become, both physically and emotionally, and the man responsible for her torment was finally within his reach. He simply lashed out with a flurry of lightning bolts, while Morgana and Nimueh attacked from either side with fire, blades, and withering blasts of pure magical energy.

Sarrum, however, dodged everything they threw at him and rallied quickly, sending up a wave of sand that momentarily blinded all three of his opponents. "Do you know the one advantage to having spent my whole life surrounded by an endless sea of sand? I've had lots of time to experiment with the stuff - and sand, it turns out, is quite versatile."

At his command, the sands rose up, coalescing into pillars that took on the shape of seven-foot-tall, faceless beings, vaguely human in form, which resisted all attempts at cutting them down with either sword or sorcery; any damage inflicted on them instantly repaired itself as the sand simply regained its form once a blade or spell had passed through it.

What are we going to do? Morgana cried out in helpless frustration as she beheaded yet another of the creatures only for a new head to form in its place. There's no way to defeat these things!

Not by attacking them directly, no, Merlin replied, bisecting another with a powerful burst of magic; even though he knew it would ultimately do no good, at least it gave him a second to think while the creature reassembled its legs. We'll have to use what's around us, like Sarrum's learned to do; this might make things unpleasant for our friends, but I don't know what else to try.

Morgana and Nimueh agreed that his idea seemed like the only feasible option, and together, they sent their magic out into the air, whipping it into a tempest that tore Sarrum's creations apart, the sheer force of the winds making it impossible for two grains of sand to hold together. Of course, this also created a sandstorm that forced the combatants all around them, friends and foes alike, to drop their weapons and cover their heads in an effort to keep the swirling sand out of their eyes, mouths, and noses, while the sorcerers shielded themselves within a circle of stillness and silence so absolute it was almost eerie.

With a growl of frustration, Sarrum summoned moisture to saturate the ground beneath their feet, turning it into a pit of quicksand, which soon had his prey stuck fast. Gliding through it with the ease of long practice, quicksand being a hazard he had encountered frequently in his harsh environment, he made his way over to Merlin and drew from his belt a dagger whose blade was fashioned from a twisted fragment of the corrupted crystal that resided in his fort, which he pressed to the younger man's throat. "Is that the best you can do, Emrys? I must confess, I'm disappointed. I had hoped you would at least provide some decent sport before I killed you, yet you've walked straight into every trap I set!"

"Yes, I suppose I did, didn't I?" Merlin raised his eyes to meet Sarrum's, and instead of the terror Sarrum expected to see there, he was taken aback to find the boy giving him a sharp-edged grin. "But who says it was a trap for me?"

###

With the aid of an enchantment cast on them by Merlin and Morgana, Arthur, Gwen, and Nimueh's Blood Guards advanced unseen on the rear wall of the fortress, carefully skirting the large groups of Saxons that Morgana's Sight had warned them were also magically concealed in the desert. After a few minutes of huddling at the wall's base, they heard Merlin issue his challenge to Sarrum, followed by the sounds of battle commencing. Arthur's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, but Gwen took hold of his arm, preventing him from either drawing his weapon or running off to join the fight.

"Remember why we're here," she quietly urged him.

He tensed against her grasp for a second, then relaxed. "Sorry - I just don't like letting our men, our friends, be outflanked like this, especially when I can't be there to fight with them."

"I know, but our mission is more important - it's our only chance of eliminating an even greater threat than the Saxons, and you're the only one who can do it. The sooner you do, the sooner we can get back to them."

Seeing the wisdom in her words, Arthur finally nodded his acquiescence and turned to the two Blood Guard priests, who were muttering incantations and waving their hands at the wall. "Well?"

"It is as the High Priestess suspected, sire; these walls cannot be breached through magical means."

Arthur took this news with another brief, unsurprised nod. "Guess we're breaking in the old-fashioned way, then."

He and the more agile of the two priests began scaling the wall, seeking out hand- and toeholds wherever they could among the rough stones. At first it was fairly easy going, but when they were about halfway up, they heard a grinding noise that sounded ominously like rocks moving against one another. More ominous still, it seemed to be coming from within the very wall they were climbing. "What-?"

"The wall must be enchanted to detect and repel intruders," the priest exclaimed, sweat that had nothing to do with exertion breaking out on his face. "Sire, you must-"

His words were abruptly cut off as a gap opened up between two stone blocks and a steel spike shot out, impaling him through the chest. Then the noise came again, and Arthur jerked his head to the side just in time to avoid another spike that would have punctured his eye. He could hear Gwen screaming below, but there was no time to reassure her; gritting his teeth, Arthur redoubled his efforts, twisting his body this way and that as more spikes emerged and withdrew, even using them to aid his passage amid the ever-moving stones.

At last he reached the top and, with one final push, threw himself over the battlement, landing in a rather undignified heap on the walkway that ran along the top of the wall. He allowed himself a short moment to catch his breath, then picked himself up and looked down to find that the spikes had retracted - all save the one which held the priest's body - leaving behind an unbroken, seemingly innocuous expanse of stone, though there was no doubt in his mind that they would return if Gwen and the remaining Blood Guard tried to climb up as he had.

"Stay there!" he shouted, seeing that she appeared ready to do just that. "I'll toss you a rope!" Of course, he had to pull them up in order to minimize their contact with the wall's deceptively smooth surface, because the thought of its lethal defenses being deployed against Gwen made his blood run cold; luckily, they were both fairly light.

Once they had all made it over the wall, the trio advanced cautiously, with their swords drawn and defensive spells ready on the Blood Guard's lips, but no one challenged them, even when they entered the keep itself. "Well, at least it looks like our plan to empty the fortress worked," Arthur commented brightly. "Maybe this won't be as hard as we thought."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a trapdoor opened beneath their feet, sending them tumbling into a chute that ran straight through the lower levels, its cylindrical sides too smooth and too far apart for them to gain any sort of purchase as they plummeted into the very bowels of the fortress. Their only consolation was that there was a tiny dot of light far below, so at least they knew they weren't being dropped into a pit like the one where Morgana had been imprisoned; as the dot grew larger, however, any relief they may have felt was replaced by apprehension when they saw what awaited them at the end of their descent: a huge vat of some greenish-yellow potion with a cloud of noxious vapor hanging over its sluggishly bubbling surface.

"What's that?" Arthur yelled.

"I don't know," Gwen replied, "but I doubt landing in it will do us any good!"

As they hurtled out of the chute, the Blood Guard managed to cast a spell that diverted his companions' paths, sending them flying off to the side of the room, where they landed with a crash of armor and a string of curses from Arthur. Unfortunately, he had no time to do the same for himself. Arthur and Gwen heard a sickening splash as he fell into the vat, followed by a bloodcurdling scream and a wave of potion sloshing over the rim, showing them that it was no longer entirely yellow, but now tinged with red.

Gwen gasped and quickly turned her head away. Mercifully, the screaming soon stopped. She and Arthur got to their feet, carefully avoiding looking at the vat's contents, and took in their surroundings.

"This definitely looks like a torture chamber, wouldn't you say?"

She nodded, still blinking back tears of horror at the priest's undoubtedly gruesome demise.

"So according to Morgana's description, we shouldn't be too far from our goal," Arthur continued in a tone of forced brusqueness, determined not to let himself, or Gwen, get distracted; if they lost their focus now, the man's sacrifice would count for nothing.

Gwen bobbed her head again, more decisively this time, and followed him out into the main corridor, which led past several more rooms whose sole purpose appeared to be maiming and the infliction of pain. If Morgana's stories hadn't already instilled in him a passionate loathing of Sarrum, Arthur reflected, seeing what he chose to fill his home with would have done it.

At last the corridor came to an end, leaving them facing one final doorway. "This has to be it, right?"

"I think so," Gwen agreed, but seized his arm when he started to move forward. "Wait! Something doesn't feel right... Don't you think it's strange that we haven't run into any more traps since the vat?"

"I'm just grateful we didn't, to be honest."

"Me too, unless we were being lulled into a false sense of security. I mean, if this room holds the key to Sarrum's power, surely we won't be able to walk right in."

"You're probably right, as usual. I'll go first."

Arthur once again attempted to take a step, but Gwen thrust herself ahead of him. "I'll go first. Arthur, you're the only one who can do what we came here to do; you're the one who has to make it into that room, not me."

Before he could object, she plunged ahead...and half a dozen swords came flying at her from all directions, slicing through the air in complex attack patterns as if wielded by invisible warriors. Gwen brought her own blade up to parry the first of them, and the deadly dance of combat began. Arthur's hand jumped to Excalibur's hilt, his instincts demanding that he help her, but the instant he made a move to unsheathe his weapon, the nearest sword turned toward him - until Gwen's blade clashed against it, drawing it back to her.

"No, Arthur! You have to finish it! Just hurry, because I don't know how long I can hold them off!"

Swallowing hard, he obeyed, edging around her while leaving his sword safely in its scabbard, which allowed him to pass unchallenged. Reluctantly turning his back on Gwen, he proceeded into the chamber beyond. It was relatively small and perfectly round, just as Morgana had said, and there in the center stood the pedestal that held the corrupted crystal.

Arthur had never given much thought to the aesthetics of crystals, and certainly didn't appreciate the purity of their geometry or their magical resonance the way Merlin and Morgana did - his only interest in them stemmed from the fact that it was a crystal that had allowed him to see and speak to Gwen during their long years apart, before his father's passing - but even he found the thing quite ugly. Drawing Excalibur, he began hacking at it, his dragon-forged sword breaking off its grotesque protuberances as effortlessly as if they were glass. As he did so, the weakly pulsing light emanating from its core grew brighter, and a shrill ringing filled the air, almost as if the thing was screaming. The ringing grew louder and louder, until finally Arthur couldn't stand it anymore, and plunged Excalibur right into its repulsively warped heart.

There was a blinding flash, and he was thrown across the room as the crystal shattered. When his vision cleared, he saw pieces of it scattered everywhere...and then the floor started shaking, the fortress' foundation destabilized by the force of the crystal's explosion. Staggering to his feet, Arthur snatched up Excalibur, then sprinted for the exit, where he found Gwen panting and sporting a few fresh cuts but mostly unharmed, the swords she had been fending off now dormant.

"Guinevere! Run!"

###

"What-?"

Sarrum's half-formed question was answered when the sickly glow of his crystal dagger was suddenly extinguished and the jagged shard splintered, leaving him holding a steel hilt with nothing attached. Merlin's grin widened. "My wonderfully clever wife warned us about your plan to ambush our men - that's the trouble with trying to outsmart a seer, they're usually a step ahead of you - but we let you think it worked so you'd send all your forces out to fight us. Then, while there was no one guarding your fort, Arthur and Gwen slipped in and destroyed that abomination you've been using to steal others' magic."

"Arthur? Uther Pendragon's whelp? Impossible!"

"Not really," Merlin replied with a slight shrug. "His sword was forged in a dragon's breath."

With a roar of fury, Sarrum slammed his otherwise useless hilt into Merlin's head, drawing a trickle of blood from his temple, but before he could do anything more, he was blasted off his feet. Landing in a heap on the ground, he looked up to see the girl standing over him, having easily freed herself from his quicksand now that their ruse was at an end, her golden-green eyes blazing. "Don't touch him, you beast!"

He sneered at her and sent a shockwave through the earth, causing it to buckle beneath her, knocking her off-balance while he regained his footing. She gasped and threw up the strongest shield she could muster, but he made no move to attack her. "You took what was most valuable to me, my ancestors' legacy," he growled, turning his head to direct his words to Merlin and Nimueh, who was checking him for a concussion, as well as her. "Now watch as your friends pay the price."

With that, he disappeared, leaving them looking around frantically. "Where did he go?!"

A moment later, a great chasm opened up in the desert, devouring sand, knights of Albion, and Saxons alike. The three sorcerers immediately abandoned their search for Sarrum and transported themselves to the sinkhole's borders, surrounding it on all sides and using all their combined power to halt the chain reaction of accelerated erosion Sarrum had set in motion. The earth, however, resisted their efforts; not only was the vast store of magic Sarrum had accumulated over decades of hunting fellow sorcerers working against them, the bedrock beneath the deep layer of sand was also unstable due to the collapse of his stronghold's extensive network of subterranean chambers.

While the ground continued to crumble under their feet, slowing but not stopping as they poured their magic into solidifying the earth once more, the battle raged on all around them, the Saxons - still under Sarrum's control, or perhaps too caught up in their own bloodlust to realize they should put down their weapons and flee before the earth swallowed them all - relentlessly pressing their attack, forcing the men of Albion to protect themselves. Morgana jumped when a wild swing of a battleaxe rebounded off her shield, her concentration having been so consumed with her magical working that she didn't even notice the Saxon berserker blundering in her direction, and was almost tempted to divert a small amount of her power for one short moment in order to deal with him, but there was no need; Leon was already engaged in fighting him.

"Sorry about that, your highness!" He drove the Saxon back with a series of well-placed slashes and thrusts, sending him tumbling into oblivion, only to lose his own footing in the process.

Morgana lowered her shield and grabbed his hand, pulling him back onto solid ground. Leon breathed a sigh of relief and started to thank her, but then his eyes widened in alarm. "Look out!"

She whirled around to find Sarrum right behind her, his sword - which he had imbued with some dark enchantment in the form of twin bolts of black lightning twisting along the blade's length - slicing through the air toward her neck. Pushing her aside, Leon leapt forward to deflect the blow, but Sarrum's lightning-wreathed blade cut through his with such ease that it might as well have been a wooden practice sword. "Out of my way, dog!" With the twitch of a finger, he hurled Leon into the air, then sent him crashing back to earth several yards away.

Morgana's gaze automatically flicked toward her fallen friend for a split second - just long enough to establish that he was alive, though he wouldn't be getting up any time soon - then back to Sarrum...who had used her moment of distraction to send another black lightning bolt hurtling straight at her.

Time seemed to stop, her magical senses overwhelmed by the sheer evil of his dark power in its purest - or most impure - state, leaving her paralyzed. It would have done no good had she been able to move, though, because this was nothing like the magic that sprang from the harmonious balance of the world and the Goddess' benevolence; this was a mockery of true magic, a violation of all it should be, that tainted every thread it touched in the fabric of reality by its mere existence. It would consume any defenses she might have conjured just as acid would corrode steel, and she was certain that contact with it would obliterate her, or at least pollute her flesh and soul beyond all possibility of repair.

She never had to experience the effects of Sarrum's foul unmagic, however, because Nimueh appeared in front of her at the last second, blocking the black bolt's path. It struck her squarely in the chest, knocking her back with the force of its impact. Morgana caught her before she fell into the abyss, but she had a sinking feeling that her attempted rescue was in vain; Nimueh's body was a limp weight in her arms, and when the older woman's head fell back against her shoulder, the empty look in those icy blue eyes made it impossible to deny the truth. Her mentor, her teacher and guide, was dead. "No, no..."

Sarrum's lip curled in a mixture of disdain and dark satisfaction as he watched her sink to her knees, gently lowering the other witch's body to the ground. What a weak, stupid creature she was, so easily distracted by threats to her friends, her will so easily broken by their deaths. Time to end this...then the real fun can begin. He strode toward her, his sword poised to strike...

Morgana's head snapped up at his approach, and he was surprised to find her eyes empty of the tears he'd expected; instead, the searing wrath he'd seen when he struck Emrys was back, though it was now a smolder rather than a blaze, her eyes harder and colder than before. He had no time to ponder this unanticipated show of strength, however, before those cold eyes flashed gold, and her sword vanished from its scabbard...only to reappear with its blade sheathed in his chest.

He staggered back a few steps, then fell, but she could tell he wasn't finished yet, could already see tendrils of darkness slithering under his skin, eating away at her blade and working to mend the internal damage. That simply would not do. She stalked over to where he lay, grasped the hilt of her sword with both hands and pressed down, driving it deeper into the place where a normal human's heart should be, but where she was convinced he had none.

Then, drawing a deep breath, she recited one of the most powerful incantations Nimueh had ever taught her: a spell to purify things that had been tainted by dark magic. Golden fire streamed from her hands, down her sword's blade, and into Sarrum's body, making him writhe and scream as it scorched away every trace of the corruption that formed the very core of his being. His black eyes were burned out, leaving two smoking holes in his skull, his skin bubbled and melted like hot wax, and finally even his bones liquefied, his entire body devolving into an oozing, black, tarlike stain upon the earth. In another moment, that too burned away, and Morgana was left clutching a sword that was now anchored in nothing more than slightly discolored sand, her chest heaving as much from emotional turmoil as from the effort it had taken to overpower and cleanse his evil.

Dimly, as if from a long way off, she heard the groan of earth shifting; without Sarrum hindering his efforts, Merlin was able to close the sinkhole in short order. Then he was there by her side, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder and saying, "It's all right. It's over, Morgana."

At that, she finally let go of her sword, turned around, and threw herself into his arms, releasing her breath in a shaky exhalation that sounded almost like a sob. She felt a certain savage triumph at having vanquished the last and worst of her tormentors, as well as immeasurable relief at his demise - now that he was gone, she didn't think she would ever be afraid again - but these emotions were dampened by crushing grief over Nimueh's death, the good and the bad warring inside her until she felt more numb than anything else.

"Nimueh..." Her voice came out in a choked whisper.

"I know," Merlin whispered back, holding her tighter. "I wanted to help when I saw Sarrum attacking you, but she told me to stay where I was, that my power was needed to prevent more of the bedrock from giving way. I shouldn't have listened to her; if I hadn't, maybe she would still..."

"I don't think so. She told me at Gwaine and Freya's wedding that she knew her time was near, that she would die before the year was out. I think that's why she insisted on coming with us, why she sent her Blood Guards off with Arthur and Gwen... I suppose this seemed to her a good way to meet her end."

"That sounds like her," Merlin agreed with a rather strangled laugh. "I guess this means you're the High Priestess now."

Morgana nodded, reluctantly pulling free of his embrace. "Yes, I can already feel the ancient magics of the Old Religion calling me; I must go to the Isle of the Blessed, to prepare Nimueh for her journey to Avalon and take her place."

"Then I shall see you there."

They shared one last lingering kiss, knowing it would be some time before they saw one another again; then Morgana walked over to where Nimueh's body lay and, gathering her gently into her arms, carried her away from the battlefield, back to her beloved Isle.

After she left, a single glance was all it took for Merlin to ascertain that the battle was all but won - freed from Sarrum's enchantments, the Saxons were once again trying to flee, but this time Albion's defenders were determined not to let that happen, pursuing and killing every last one. Merlin left them to it, knowing he would never hear the end of it if he spoiled Gwaine's fun.

Next he turned his attention to the fort, just in time to see its final collapse...and there was no sign of Arthur, Gwen, and Nimueh's Blood Guards anywhere. Heart pounding in his throat, he transported himself into the middle of the ruined courtyard, desperately straining all his senses, both magical and mundane, for any hint of movement. "Arthur! Gwen!"

There was a clatter of sliding rocks, and the two of them emerged from a pile of wood and stone, a bit bruised and bloodied and very dusty, but definitely alive. Gwen ran to hug Merlin, while Arthur grumbled, "Nice of you to show up. Too bad you couldn't get here before the place fell down around our ears."

"Sorry, I had a battle to fight. It wasn't until it ended that I noticed you were still dawdling in here. At least you managed not to get yourself killed again."

"No, but there were some close calls," Arthur said in an attempt to make himself sound heroic. "We had to fight our way through all sorts of enchantments and traps... Neither of the sorcerers made it out," he finished somberly. "Is Nimueh still out there, or did she disappear again? I want to offer her my condolences."

"She didn't make it either."

"Oh... I'm sorry." He clasped Merlin's shoulder in a gesture of sympathy, which was cut short when they heard Leon, Lancelot, and Gwaine on the other side of the mountain of rubble that had once been the outer wall, calling for them.

"We'd better get out of here," Gwen said, with an almost apologetic air for interrupting a rare moment of genuine emotion between them. "The army still needs their High Kings."

Neither of them could argue with her; there would be time to mourn their losses later, but for now they needed to tend to the survivors. Merlin cleared a path through the debris, and they walked out into the desert, where Arthur and Gwen were met with the sight of countless dead, both allies and enemies, dozens more wounded knights, still others who were uninjured but exhausted - and Gwaine, who seemed to have come through the fray entirely unscathed...or at least his acerbic sense of humor had.

"There you are. Exactly how long did it take you to find that blasted crystal? Morgana's directions sounded simple enough, just keep going down until you reach the lowest chamber - or did you forget which way is down?"

Arthur repeated what he'd already told Merlin about his and Gwen's harrowing adventure in the fortress, adding, "I would say I'm sorry for not making it back sooner, but from the looks of things, it seems you lot out here didn't have much to do at all."

And now our last villain is dealt with; I think he got what he deserved and it felt right to have Morgana be the one to give it to him, but I hope the manner of his death wasn't too disturbing for anyone. I'm also sorry I had to do in poor old Nimueh, but like with Uther and Balinor, removing her was a necessary step in letting our heroes take control and move forward with actually making this Golden Age happen. If it helps, I promise I'm done killing off characters now - which is good, since there are only two chapters left.

On a non-story-related note, since my last update on 1/19, I've received a couple of PMs that I've tried to answer but never heard back, so I wanted to make sure the people in question didn't miss my replies now that FFN no longer sends PMs to users' email accounts. If you've PM'd me in the last month or so and think I haven't gotten back to you, please check your inbox here on the site in case I have. Hope to hear from you soon.