Pain was nonexistent. Pain was not a word to me anymore. Morgana could do all she wanted to me and I didn't care. I was devastated at first…I couldn't think. All I could do was look at his broken body on the floor and wish his arms were around me one last time. Wish for his cute laugh to echo through the halls of Camelot and for him and me to be together and happy again. But those days were over. Now all that burned in me was wrath. There was no love left. I was going to kill Morgana for what she had done. I was going to avenge him.
Merlin's body had long since been taken out of the room but the moment lingered in the air like a hovering bad smell. Someone walked into the cave…as they came closer I saw it was a guard with a hot metal poker. The guard lifted the bottom of my shirt up to expose my side, which was bruised and spotted with burn marks…ugly red and puckered. I felt his cold fingers as he found a spot of open skin…I gritted my teeth…he dug the poker in.
Tears sprung into my eyes; he pressed harder. I writhed about, but I would not scream. I wouldn't give Morgana that satisfaction. Somehow she thought that if she killed the person I loved most in the world she would have gotten an answer out of me. When it didn't work she went right back to torture. It was pointless now. She had killed him. There was no Emris; there would be no Albion. The only thing that kept me alive now was the fury…and the thought that I would be the last thing Morgana ever saw. I was going to make sure of that.
I soon passed out from exhaustion and fell into a fitful sleep filled with troublesome dreams….