Although the night had given her advice, Morgana still hadn't been able to sleep. A dense fog already sneaked through the trees when Morgause finally told her it was time to depart. Though Morgana hadn't been enthusiastic to leave, she was still glad to hear that news. Every second she passed in that cursed forest in Cornwall, fed her hate and awoke feelings she hadn't felt for so long, she couldn't understand them any more. Anger and hate were familiar to her, but the sadness and disappointment seemed to be from another life.

But she wouldn't put up with it. She wasn't like Merlin, who conscientiously kept his Magic secret. No, she stood up for what she believed was right, and she would do that now as well. Though her common sense knew Morgause wasn't worth it, Morgana's love for her sister was stronger. In fact, she hadn't been doubting when she decided she'd better do the Test to show she can stand a good deal. After that, she would make it clear to Morgause she didn't have any intentions to betray her. What else could she do? Morgause was the only person in the world she still cared about.

However, it hurt to hear the soft voice of her sister, to see her handsome face and fair, luxurious hair. Behind her friendly expression, someone who was afraid of Morgana and the, apparently, horrible destiny she dragged with her, was hidden. How on earth could Morgause, who was so powerful and wise, be so afraid of her? Didn't she realise she wouldn't have any difficulties with defeating her sister, no matter if it was in a Magical duel or in a swords-fight?

Morgause stressed to be careful for the last time, while Morgana put on her black cloak, in the hope it would protect her from the freezing wind and the coldness in the highlands, took her empty backpack and a canteen, and eventually, she put a dagger of the High Priestesses under her belt.

Morgana nodded every time automatically, but she didn't really listen. Though she'd made up her mind she would forgive Morgause, whose voice was still warm and caring, she felt as if something was broken between them forever, and no nice word or final embrace could restore it.

But Morgana had to get over it, she told herself. Morgause was her final straw, without her she might as well die. They must and will win each others trust again, no matter how hard it was.

Before she was aware of it, she and Morgause were standing on the verge of the forest, where they had left the horses. Morgana could hardly believe only one night had passed. Apparently, her confused thoughts had deceived her and told her they've been there for years.

"This is a good horse," Morgause spoke, while she patted on the mouth of the black horse, on which Morgana had ridden the day before. "I will buy this horse for you when I'm back in Tintagel. Then it can keep you company, and you will grow less tired."

"Thanks", Morgana smiled. Every smile or every grateful word, seemed insincere. But that was also the case for Morgause's words, Morgana soothed herself.

Morgana got on the black horse, happy she could now call herself the owner of the mare, and looked at Morgause for the very last time. Her brown eyes were warm, just as Morgana knew them. The silly and rather naïve thought Morgause's character changed in those Magical woods, but outside of it -when the Magical balance was stabilized again- she changed back to normal, would've been a good comfort on harmless days, but Morgana knew better. Unfortunately.

"Morgana, no matter what will happen, do not hesitate. You don't need to study Magic for years, it is instinctive. It is a part of your existence, and that's something to be proud of", were Morgause's last words before she and Morgana nodded to each other one last time and the youngest spurred her horse. The mist was still dense, and limited her sight, but she didn't need much orientation. Always to the north.

She was thinking of Morgause's words. It appeared to be that her sister believed in her, and she really hoped Morgana would arrive back home safely. But right now, she didn't dare to trust Morgause again, and she didn't want to be won over with some soothing advices. Who knew what her sister was up to? She knew Morgause like no one else (at least, she thought she did, but now she wasn't sure of it any more), and so she was aware of the fact nobody was as determined as Morgause.

A frosty wind cut her face and after some hours of galloping, she had the feeling as if someone had hit her repeatedly with a whip, until she started bleeding (to say nothing of her painful hands...). The heavy breath of her horse told her the animal needed some rest.

Morgana pulled at the bridles and the horse stood still instantly.

"Are you all right, girl?" she asked, while she opened the canteen and held it on the horse's mouth. Greedy, she emptied the canteen at a draught. Morgana smiled and was thankful for her travelling companion. "I have to give you a name, don't you think?"

Back in Camelot, she'd had a white horse. Connoisseurs agreed it had been a horse of the purest race, but to Morgana, she had only been a beautiful, sweet mare. Uther had given it to her for her thirteenth birthday, and Morgana had called her Rhonwen, which meant fair-haired in Welsh.

Rhonwen had accompanied her on every adventure and she was the only one Morgana missed from Camelot. She didn't know what had become of her faithful horse (though she was afraid the animal must've been pledged to a clever butcher after Morgana left Camelot, because Rhonwen reminded them to much of her), but however, Morgana hoped Rhonwen was all right and she could enjoy her last years in peace.

But Morgana didn't even consider to call the black, fierce horse Rhonwen, because she didn't want to give the animal a name that had anything to do with Camelot.

"You're as black as the night," Morgana whispered, while patting softly on the horse's muscular neck, "what do you think about Nox? Do you like that name?" The horse whinnied, as if it was approving the question. "All right then, Nox," Morgana smiled, "Though I find it more of a stallion's name, but if you can live with it, then it's fine for me."

She sat down on the wet ground, while Nox started to graze quietly. Visions of Morgause and Camelot started to haunt Morgana's thought once again, and it took her more strength than she'd ever thought to stop her tears.

"Did you know Nox is the Roman goddess of the night?" Morgana asked the black horse then. Nox didn't look up, but still, Morgana continued talking, because, ironically, at that time, it kept her mentally stable to talk to horses. "She rides across the sky in her chariot, and she places the dark hazes over the earth, and that's how it becomes night in Rome. They are inventive, aren't they, those Romans? Our gods just are, and we worship them. The only thing we get in return, is a destiny we don't want."

Morgana sighed and lay down on the grass, and now she found herself miles away from the Magical forest, the High Priestesses and Morgause, and the marked Triskelion didn't hurt any more, tiredness caught her suddenly. But she didn't want to sleep. Not now she had such a long journey ahead of her, and so little time to succeed.

For that reason, she sat straight in no time and interrupted Nox, who was still grazing peacefully.

"I'm sorry, girl, but we have to go", she apologised, and she got on her horse again and spurred. When she had the chance, she encouraged the horse to start galloping, because it wouldn't be easy to be back in time, especially now she didn't know what obstacles she would find on the road ahead.

Sorcerers knew very well the south contained less Magic than the north, where the landscape and its population were rougher. Morgause had told her about Wood-elves, but Morgana knew that was only a very small part of the Magic she would find.

The tales about Giants and Dwarves, Werewolves and Vampires, Dragons and Sea snakes, and all the other, Magical creatures, didn't appear out of the blue. And then there was the Tree of Stormum Ábéatne. Morgana assumed that the famous tree was a lot more Magical than the source of Gástlíce, what had already made her suffer unbearable pains for some minutes. She didn't want to think of what that tree could do to her when she was going to mutilate it by cutting of one of its branches.

After a while, Morgana felt how her eyelids became heavier and before she realised it, she was almost falling asleep on Nox's back.

"She will fail."

"I know. That is the intention."

Wrong, Morgause. Morgana wouldn't fail, she had sworn that to herself. And she wouldn't give up. Never again.

"You had asked me to keep an eye on the boy, Merlin?"

Why hadn't Morgause told her? She always mentioned everything what had been said during the meetings, but why didn't she when it really concerned Morgana this time? Why did she had to keep an eye on Merlin anyway?

"He's dreaming about him and Morgana being in love."

Come on, that was just ridiculous. There were only two men Morgana ever had feelings for. The first one was a bandit, whom she didn't even know if he was still alive, and the other one was now king of Camelot and married to Morgana's former maidservant. But even the troll Uther once wooed (it was the only memory about her guardian Morgana cherished and that could always cheer her up), was a more likely candidate to conquer her heart than Merlin was.

"Not if the Bond will come into operation and she will cooperate with the boy."

Why on earth would she ever want to cooperate with Merlin? They hated each other. He was fighting alongside Camelot, and she was battling to restore Magic, and that would stay like that until the end of time.

"She isn't standing in our way when she's death."

Neither when she's alive, she'd always suspected. But the longer she was driving and the more she needed some sleep, the more tempting it became to hinder the ones who betrayed her. They couldn't drag about the Lady Morgana. Camelot wasn't able to do so, and the most powerful sorceresses on earth would await the same faith.

She replayed the conversation Morgause and Lyra had on the meeting over and over again, to stay awake and mainly to remind herself she had to prove herself, no matter what happened and what her destiny contained.

She rode like that for hours. Replaying the conversation in her head, had nearly given her a depression, so she started to amuse herself by naming all the animals she came across in the fast-changing area.

She had already met a fox, an owl and a viper (at least, she assumed it had been a viper, though she hadn't seen it clearly because of the thick fog and Nox's fast pace), when she startled and pulled on the bristles.

She'd much rather wage war against thousands of Giants than seeing what she now faced. It was an oak, or, the oak.

Arthur had taught Morgana how to climb a tree, and on a hot day in the summer, when they were both eleven (Morgana was two months Arthur's senior), he had taken her to that tree, saying it was the 'ultimate challenge for the tree-climber'. Morgana took up the challenge, as she always did, and she was already heading to the top before Arthur had even spoken the final word of his sentence. But her rushed steps had made her fall out just as quickly.

Arthur had laughed triumphantly, and to enforce his victory, he'd been mocking her all the way back, saying he was a thousand times better in climbing trees than Morgana.

Some years later, Morgana, not fully grown, but not a child any more, was walking in the forest with Gwen and Arthur, when they localised that oak again. Of course, Morgana wanted revenge for the humiliation, which she got. Arthur, however strong and stout, had been no match to Morgana any more, as his sister, yet still smaller, had become faster and more dexterous than him. From then on, that tree stood symbol for their rivalry, and even when they had both reached the significant age of eighteen years old, and were supposed to act more grown up, they would still challenge the other to do the most ridiculous, and usually embarrassing, tasks.

During the months after Merlin had poisoned her and Morgause took care of her, she'd reported a lot of stories to her sister. She told about her life in Camelot and her friends (being Arthur and Gwen, not Merlin, as she had been too confused to still see him as her friend, though at first, she had been too stubborn to admit he had become her enemy), but she had never told Morgause about that stupid tree, because it was just too childish.

It surprised her a lot when she felt that her eyes were swimming in tears. She felt wistful and almost longing when her thoughts brought her back to the days when she and Gwen were walking over the green fields of Camelot, giggling about boys and talking about one thing and another. Suddenly, Arthur challenged her again, this time for a sword fight. He always suspected he could outclass her by far, and he kept believing that until she disarmed him and was staring at him, smirking. The years past suddenly. She was nineteen, was sitting on the stairs of the castle with Arthur, Gwen and Merlin, her best friends, and was happy they had escaped a boring party that didn't seem to come to an end. They were joking, giggling and drinking way to much cider than approved.

But then she remembered the handcuffs around her wrists and the bleeding afterwards, just because she had said what everyone was thinking, just because she had been the only one who dared to say the truth out loud. That was what her 'loving' guardian had done to her, he threw her in his dirty dungeons, because she had defied him. She heard Gwen crying again, crying about her father, murdered by Uther. Morgana's father (not in the biological way, but the man she considered being her father) had been murdered by Uther as well.

And she couldn't sleep, every night. She trembled and was terrified, while tears were flowing and Gwen tried to sooth her, but was unable to do so. Horrible thoughts and unbearable feelings of fear, and even shame, were killing her inside. She couldn't tell anyone, not even Gwen. What would they do to her when they found out she, the Lady Morgana, first lady of Camelot, was a sorceress herself? What would Uther do to his beloved ward, now she turned out to be a Magician, a pagan, a traitor, a foe?

Eventually, she was lying on the floor of the throne room. Her throat was burning and her heart stopped beating. Merlin held her in his arms, with tears in his eyes. He cradled her softly, in a futile attempt to comfort her. However, Morgana already realised he was the reason why she was suffering so much, before she closed her eyes, not willing to fight against death any more.

Morgana remembered again why she had left.

She spurred her horse and turned around, planning to ride as far away from Camelot as possible.