The storm was coming. The rest of the fallen army were heading towards the hill where a monumental castle was placed. Horses were pulling carriages full of injured knights and soldiers and also perished. At the head of their men rode on the horses Vortimer and Mordred. Their faces painted with bitterness of a lost battle of Camlann. Beside them, on a horse, was Morgana's body. Her face was more peaceful than in life, but even in death she looked beautiful. Mordred glanced at her with regret.

It was supposed to be their triumph. It was them who were meant to rule Camelot. But it wasn't Mordred's dream, it was Morgana's. However, they both had one thing in common, the only thing that he wanted so bad to achieve by her side. To bring Arthur to death. Now, without the woman he loved and without a sorceress to guide him, the thought of revenge on the king of Camelot was the only thing that kept him alive, to that point that it may become his obsession.

Through the muddy road they've finally reached the gates of the castle.

"Take all the injured to the great hall, we'll be needing a physician," said Vortimer as they entered the courtyard of the castle. "Leave here the fallen."

He jumped off the horse and walked over to Mordred who had already stood beside Morgana's horse. They took her and laid her softly on the ground where bodies of other soldiers had been placed. Mordred put the blanket on Morgana and kneeled down to her. He looked for the last time at her pale face and put his hand on her forehead.

"You will have your revenge," he whispered and covered her face with a blanket.

"Sire," a small voice of a man came to their ears.

"Yes?" Vortimer looked at him.

"Lord Vortigern awaits your presence."

Vortimer glanced at Mordred who was still kneeling beside Morgana's body then turned his eyes to the servant.

"I will be there."

The man bowed his head and walked away.

"Come, Mordred," said Vortimer and, not waiting for him, walked towards the castle.

Mordred took a look around the courtyard and followed him.

They were walking through darkened corridors straight to the throne room.

"Wait here," Vortimer said to Mordred as they stood before the entrance to the room.

The guards opened the doors for Vortimer. Light was streaming into the room through the tall windows and in a distance he saw the king. Without a thought he headed towards him.

"You summoned me, father," he said as he walked over to him.

"How many men have we lost?" Vortigern looked at him.

"Two-thirds of the army," Vortimer replied after a beat.

"How is that possible?" the king raised his voice and his son shuddered slightly at this, but he tried not to show it. "They were outnumbered and we had magic at our hands."

"Apparently, Camelot's army had it either."

Vortigern glanced at him. "What?"

"An old man," said Vortimer. "Sorcerer, very powerful. He appeared on the hill, above us all, like out of nowhere. And just… blew our men away. With one move of a hand. We had been defeated with our own…"

Vortigern raised his hand to silence him. "Enough."

Vortimer was watching him cautiously as suddenly his father stood up and walked over to the window.

"Camelot has hated and feared magic for many years," he said looking out on the courtyard; "and now they have an ally in sorcery."

"Uther doesn't rule Camelot anymore," said Vortimer emphasising every word. "Perhaps…," he hesitated; "new times have come."

"Arthur is nothing better than his father," the king eyed his son. "I hope you don't believe in that nonsense about him and Albion."

Vortimer inhaled and said after a moment. "No, of course not."

"Good," nodded Vortigern. "How could Morgana not know this?" he stepped towards him. "About a sorcerer? She is, after all, a seer, high priestess."

"I can assure you, father, that she was trusted. If she knew she would have told us."

"That witch… I shouldn't have let her go with you to lead the army. But she was very persuasive, eager to crave the power and the throne of Camelot," Vortigern looked at his son. "Now she may be a danger to Kent."

"She does not threaten our kingdom…"

"Don't you see what she is doing?" Vortigern cut him off. "She makes an alliance with other kingdoms and then makes them fall."

"Morgana is dead, father," Vortimer managed to say.

There was a long silence. Vortigern walked over to his throne and cleared his throat.

"And what about the dragon?" he spoke.

"I'm afraid that the dragon has fled," Vortimer watched the king's reaction.

"Find this creature and imprison it before someone else will. I want it here, in Kent."

Vortimer looked at him a little bit confused. "But…"

"I made an order," the king said firmly.

"Yes, my lord," Vortimer bowed his head slightly after a beat. "What with the bodies?"

"Burn them all."

Vortimer bowed again and turned to leave. Mordred was still waiting for him outside the room.

"Well?" Mordred asked when the doors had been closed behind Vortimer.

"We have to find the white dragon."

"What does the king want to do with it?" Mordred frowned.

Vortimer looked around and took him aside.

"I told him who defeated us. He believes that Camelot has an ally in a sorcerer."

Mordred scoffed. "But isn't it the truth? The sorcerer lived among them all this time."

"Yeah, but my father doesn't know about that. The point is, he thinks that they could catch the dragon and use it against our kingdom. Therefore, he's desperate to fetch that creature."

"It will be hard to hunt her. She is distrustful and she ran away just because the only person she was attached to died."

"Hard, but not impossible."

"We don't even know where to start searching," said Mordred after a beat. "And I wouldn't want to waste my time going after that bloody dragon when at that time we could strike Camelot," there was a slight note of anger in his voice.

"As you couldn't see, now we don't have an army," said Vortimer through clenched teeth. "If you're disagreeing with me, just go ahead. I'm giving you a free hand," he made a step back from Mordred. "But all alone you don't have any chance with them," Vortimer got closer to him again and pointed at his chest. "Emrys will kill you, Mordred. Without a second thought."

Mordred looked at Vortimer's face. He knew that he was telling the truth. Merlin was too powerful and now, he is probably mad that Mordred almost killed his friend. Almost killed, because he was pretty sure that Arthur lived. And all that makes Merlin more dangerous.

"As I thought," said Vortimer as he didn't get a response from Mordred. "We have one more thing to do right now," he said and continued forward to the entrance to the courtyard.

Mordred watched him walking away for a moment and then followed him to the exit. He stood at the threshold when Vortimer raised his hand and stopped the knights pulling the bodies from carriages.

"Take all the bodies on the castle commons," Vortimer said to the people covering the dead. "And burn them."

Mordred's eyes widened as he heard what Vortimer had just said. He walked over to him quickly and took him by his arm.

"I thought we were going to bury them," he said confused.

"That was the king's order. And it will be better, there are too many of them to be buried."

"But not Morgana."

Vortimer glanced at him.

"Please, let me make her grave," said Mordred.

"All right," Vortimer replied after a beat. "We'll find a good place for her."

They took Morgana's body on the horse and rode to the woods near the castle. Once they were there, Mordred began to prepare the burial site.

"She was so full of hatred," said Vortimer quietly while he was standing against a tree.

Mordred put the last stone on Morgana's grave and looked at him.

"What?"

"It's nothing," he smiled slightly. "What did Arthur do that you betrayed him?" he asked after a beat.

Mordred seemed surprised at that question and looked down at the grave.

"Are you afraid that I'm a traitor?"

Vortimer snorted. "No, just asking. I never heard the story," he said, still looking at him. "You were the knight of Camelot and now you end up here. Well, that's… surprising."

Mordred exhaled, closing his eyes.

"That's none of your business," he looked up at Vortimer.

"But you must've had reason."

"Don't make me act hastily," Mordred said with a warning tone and got closer to him.

Vortimer smirked and looked down and then glanced at Mordred again.

"We should be coming back," he said and turned to his horse. He jumped on and headed towards the castle not waiting for Mordred.

It was early morning and Gaius just woke up between stacks of books with his head on the desk. The whole chamber was kept in quite order despite the potion table where there were a lot of flasks, bottles and vials. Most of them had been overturned and remnants of potions spilled onto the table, mixing into a strange coloured substance.

Gaius raised his head and looked up at the man lying on the bed across the room. He was sleeping peacefully. Gaius managed to get on his feet and as he did his face twisted in pain and he grabbed his neck. He slowly walked over to the man and checked his condition. He looked around the chamber and automatically his eyes were laid on the table with potions.

"Quite a mess…," Gaius muttered under his breath.

The first sun's rays just fell into the room illuminating his face. Gaius looked at the door leading to the further part of his chamber. He sighed and headed towards it, but stopped just right before it. He closed his eyes for a moment and pushed the door, but what he saw was just an empty, made bed, like the day before.

He turned to leave the room and then he heard someone knocking.

"Come in," said Gaius and after that the door to his chambers opened.

"Morning, Gaius," Percival walked into the room and nodded at him. "How is he?"

"He's getting better," he glanced at the man in bed. "But when he is awake he seems traumatized. Barely saying anything."

"Will it pass?" Percival asked, glancing worriedly at his friend.

"Some day, but of course it will take time," said Gaius. "Percival," he caught his attention. "Gwaine was tortured to his limits, what he's been through is unimaginable. It's a miracle that he survived."

"We will not get rid of him that soon. He'll make sure of it," he laughed through tears.

Gaius smiled at this and started cleaning his potion table. Percival walked over to Gwaine and sat beside his bed.

"I have some medication prepared for him," started Gaius. "It will help, but the main thing in recovery will be someone's presence," he stopped cleaning and looked at Percival. "And a lot of talking, about anything."

"I'll be there for him."

"Tonight we can move him to his chamber. It would be good if someone could stay with him for a while just in case something happened."

"Sure, I'll stay."

There was another knock on the door. Gaius didn't have time to answer because Guinevere walked in.

"My lady."

"Gaius," she said. "You know why I'm here."

"I wish I had good news, Gwen, but there's still no message from Merlin."

She sighed. "But it's been a week. Someone must have seen them."

"There is no sign," Percival started. "Nobody we have spoken to had any information."

"We have to assume then that they're still in Avalon," said Gaius.

"What if something happened and we'll never know…?"

"Gwen," Gaius said softly, walked over to her and took her gently by the arms; "We must not lose our hope."

"He is with Merlin, my lady," Percival smiled. "They will be back safe and sound, I'm sure of it."

Guinevere shared a smile and looked over Gaius's shoulder at Gwaine.

"Is he getting better?"

"I think he is in good enough condition to leave my chambers."

"Thank you, Gaius," she smiled. "We will provide him with everything he needs."