A/N: Kay...here's the next chapter!! Thanx for all the reviews so far!! They make me dance inside!!! And around the living room when no ones there, aside from my black cat that I call Merlin, despite his name actually being Jasper due to my sister's obsession with Twilight. Anyways...don't think this chapter is as good as previous ones cause I've only had spare moments to try and write this between studying so I don't think it flows very well, but...here you are anyways!!

Chapter 12- Raging Fire

Morgana floundered in the black mists of her mind, trying to find a lifeline to drag her back to reality.

Her thoughts came in torrents, and she could feel the remnants of her magic running though her veins like fire, as though trying to compensate for her sudden loss in power.

She could not move, she could not cry out, she was trapped in the tempest that was the prison of her mind.

It was always the same when she lost too much of her magic when she lost control. Her mind functioned perfectly after a while, but her body was too weak to respond. She was barely aware of the world around her. At the moment, all clear thought was lost to her.

She felt a pair of arms lift her up and hold her close to his body. She was suddenly aware that she had been lying on the ground. She was so comfortable...why did he have to move her?

So comfortable...

And who was he?

She could barely tell any more.

The arms around her felt secure and Morgana felt herself beginning to relax into them, revelling in their warmth and comfort, barely even registering the irregularity of his movements which indicated he was walking.

Morgana did not concern herself where; she felt safe with him, safer than she had in a long while.

Then, she felt those arms hand her over to someone else, who handled her with care, but with no warmth.

She did not want him to leave, she wanted to hold onto him, cry out, protest...but she felt powerless. Who was he? A vague memory came to mind...a boy with raven coloured hair...why was he so familiar?

She felt his presence fade, the shining light that was him, was gone. She was plunged into the cold darkness, torment filled her mind.

She felt herself being lowered onto a bed, and someone dabbing at her forehead with a damp cloth, which she had not even realised was feverish, but nothing could quench the fire, the raging fire which raced through her body and mind.

When would it end?

How long would it take this time?

She began to make some sense of her arbitrary thoughts. She knew she could not lie here, she needed to be somewhere, but where? And why? Who was she?

Her magic began to swirl around inside her, like a pit of live snakes, until she thought her body could not handle it any more. Something about this was unusual.

Why was it...? Something told her her magic did not come back this quickly, what then was that feeling of immense power in her blood?

It began to pierce her, from the inside out, like knives ripping her insides. She still could not move, could not cry out from the pain that was ravishing her body. This, she knew was not normal.

What was happening to her? This wasn't normal!

"So you finally figured it out Morgana," a sneering voice filled her mind. "Perhaps you were not as pathetic as I thought."

Morgana frowned. There was something familiar about that voice...

An image of a man came into her mind, a man with a laughing evil face, and eyes which burned bright with fire.

Byrne!

With a rush, all of it came back to Morgana, everything that had happened. She had to get to Merlin! She had to help him to stop Byrne!

"I am afraid that is something you cannot do Morgana. You cannot prevent what has already been set in motion, even the great Emrys cannot. I will not be defeated."

Every word that he spoke seemed to pierce her with such intensity, Morgana truly thought she was going to die.

"I guessed you would betray me to Emrys, so the last time you entered my mind, I placed this memory inside of you. The spell I implanted inside of you will introvert and exemplify the magic remaining in your body so much so you shall be consumed by it. If you attempt to enter a mind that is not my own, this memory will be stimulated and the spell will become active. It will kill you Morgana, a slow and painful death, and you will be unable to help him. You will die Morgana, alone and friendless. You should have trusted me, you should have joined me...you had so much potential, but now that is lost...Goodbye my young apprentice."

Byrne's presence faded from her mind and Morgana began to panic. She could feel her magic rising inside of her, burning her.

She once again tried to move or make a sound, but she could not. The Healer who was undoubtedly present with her would not know the difference between this and every other time she had lost control of her magic.

She could do nothing to save herself.

But no, she would not allow this do defeat her. She would not allow Byrne to win. She had been manipulated and cheated and tricked by him too many times, she would not allow him to be her downfall.

She remembered the control exercises she had been taught and furiously began to implement all of them, exempting the ones Byrne had taught her. She struggled to regain control and force the magic down inside of her where it was in harmony with the rest of her body as Fyrmest had instructed her. But the fire raged too strongly.

It was then Morgana almost gave up hope.

She imagined the faces of everyone she cared about, the ones she would never see again. The ones in Camelot who at this time never knew whether she was alive or dead. Gwen's face filled her mind, her sweet disposition shining through; Arthur's face, the one she regarded as a brother, despite the fact they had not always got along, she would never be able to tell him how much she cared about him, she had always refused to let his arrogant mind see her feelings; she would never see Merlin again, and his unwavering trust in people...

Morgana snapped out of her spiral of self-pity. She would not allow herself to be killed while she lay defenceless, she would see them again, she would tell them all what they meant to her.

Once again, she began to furiously fight the fire in her body, she did not eradicate it, but it reduced dramatically. She had to do this for them....

Suddenly the remaining magic, shifted and formed something else; it no longer run through her blood, but was rather concentrated in another area.

She had a vision, as clear as the night and day, clearer than she had ever seen before.

She saw Camelot, burning and in ruins. The castle was all but gone, and the lower town had been decimated. All around her, in confused shapes, amongst terrified screams, she saw prone figures, stained with scarlet. People ran everywhere, crying out for loved ones, crying out in despair when they found them no longer alive, children weeping for parents, parents weeping for children...

She saw Halwende the young Druid boy, blood on his face, screaming...

She saw Merlin, his face contorted in emotional agony...

She saw Gwen, her face disfigured in grief and sorrow....

She saw Arthur, lying there on the cold remains of the once great city, it was evident he was dead.

In amongst this stood a group of sorcerers, glee evident on their faces as they caused more havoc...

She then saw a battlefield, littered with corpses and severed limbs. Soldiers dressed in blue, went through the dead, taking their treasures and weapons, rounded up men in scarlet tunics and beheading them, revelling in the blood that splattered across their wicked features.

The vision shifted, and became less clear. It was foggy and near undistinguishable. She saw Arthur and Merlin, standing in Camelot, a Camelot that was not ruined, where the people were happy. They were smiling together, joy and frivolity in their eyes. They were not concerned over war, not concerned over anything, they just looked like two friends, enjoying the afternoon sun on a lazy summer's day.

Everything then went black, she could see nothing at all. Then a voice spoke, a voice of wisdom and of age, a voice that sounded as though it could belong to the earth itself.

"Pendragon must trust Emrys. It must be so. If it is not, then Camelot will fall. Pendragon must trust Emrys..."

Morgana bolted upright, wrenched from her dream, breathing heavily and shaking uncontrollably.

The Healer sat nearby, and looked completely astonished.

"Morgana, this is indeed unus-"

"No time Hālian, I will explain later," her voice radiated urgency. "Where is Merlin, please I need to speak with him now!"

Hālian still looked uncertain.

"I don't know, this is strange, you are very weak, you normally don't recover for at least-"

"Now!" Morgana felt her regal address come through in her voice, an aspect she had tried hard to hide when living amongst humble Druids. She felt bad for being so abrupt with him, but this was urgent.

He looked startled and a little hurt, but said:

"He is with the Council of Elders, they and the rest of the village are about to deciding how to best combat thi snew threat of Cendred's."

Morgana stood up immediately and held herself proudly, despite wavering dangerously for a moment. She was determined.

"Take me to them."

Arthur cast around at the ghostly figures that surrounded him. He drew his sword, ready to fight, but he knew that strange sensation he could feel in the air could only be magic, what hope did he have against this many sorcerers?

He prepared himself for the onslaught of spells he expected would bombard him at any moment, but they did not come. He allowed a small glimmer of hope to filter through, perhaps he still had time to act.

He swung himself off of his horse and strode confidently towards the circle of sorcerers, who did nothing but look at him mutely. He stared into their faces, but could distinguish nothing beneath the shadow of their hoods. He hoped however this gesture would allow them to see he was not afraid, and would not be killed as a coward.

"What do you want?" He spoke loudly and clearly to those who were watching him, with more confidence than he felt.

They remained silent. He became more and more frustrated the longer it went on. Why would they not answer him? To intimidate him? He resolved not to let this be the case and spoke once again:

"I demand that you answer me! What is it that you want?"

At this, one of the taller figures from the circle came forward and removed his hood. It was Alvarr, the leader of the hostile Druids Arthur had helped to slaughter.

He knew not whether to be glad or not at this revelation, he was pleased that these were not the sorcerers Merlin had warned him about, yet, Alvarr no doubt harboured a great resentment and hatred towards him.

"Why, it is you that we want, Arthur Pendragon." He spoke with a small sneer on his lips as he watched Arthur standing alone amongst enemies. "Imagine our good fortune when the enemy of our most hated rival stumbles across us."

Arthur tensed immediately. He cursed his own bad luck for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. How many hostile Druid factions could this land hold? Morgana was right when she had said to his father that his harsh methods would only create more enemies.

He saw Alvarr's eyes flash golden and suddenly, his sword flew out of his hand and he felt an intense crushing feeling surrounding him. He found that he could not move, he was bound to the spot.

Alvarr laughed cruelly. "What shall we do now with the spoiled little prince? Ask for a ransom? Use him to gain access to the city? Make his father watch as we kill him in front of him? Or shall we kill him now?"

Arthur heard cries of agreement and support at Alvarr's words, all of them obviously wanted him dead one way or another. He could see no way out of this predicament. Even if he managed to free himself, he was outnumbered vastly, he would have no hope of evading them. He decided attempting escape now would be suicide, he would have to hope that they would delay his inevitable death long enough for him to find a tactical advantage.

How had he been so stupid as to get caught? He was out of practise, he had barely lived whilst Merlin was gone, and it looked like he wasn't going to live for much longer.

Alvarr approached him, evil glinted in his eyes, he was impatient to take revenge for his men that had been killed by Arthur's Knights, eager to be rid of the person who threatened their entire existence.

Arthur prevented even from speaking by Alvarr's spell; he was completely at his mercy.

He came closer to Arthur and raised his hand, opened his mouth to utter some incantation, when-

"Stop!"

A single voice cried out in the gloom of the forest. Everyone parted to see who had spoken, and looked in reverence at the figure that strode past them.

A small, figure, in a blue cloak.

He came closer to Arthur, and removed his hood.

It was Mordred.

Arthur could barely register his shock at seeing him here, when Alvarr came forward angrily:

"Why? Surely you want to see him dead? He has caused so much suffering to all of us!"

Mordred turned to look at Arthur. His piercing blue eyes seemed to be reading his mind. He could see anger in them, hatred, but no desire for revenge.

His eyes changed colour briefly for a moment and Arthur felt the pressure that had been constricting him lift.

He staggered for a moment,and breathed deeply before looking back at the boy. He continued to regard Arthur in an unnerving manner which really unsettled him. Merlin was right, this kid was creepy.

Then he spoke:

"Do not mistake me Arthur Pendragon. I have no desire to save your life, but I am compelled to do so. I would gladly see you die, as I have seen so many of my kin die at the hands of your father or even your own."

Arthur was even more unsettled to hear his voice. It was the voice and speech of an adult, coming out of such a young looking boy. Even Mordred's gaze seemed to be adult, and disproportionate to his age and size.

"Then why did you save me?"

Mordred looked angry at this reminder.

"We all here are practitioners of the Old Religion. That binds us in ways you cannot imagine. If one man saves one of the Old Religion, that one is bound for eternity to repay that man in kind; an oath so strong none can break it. You helped me to escape from Camelot when your King wanted to execute me and for that I am grateful. I will not be bound any longer in a debt to you, it disgusts me, so therefore I can guarantee you will leave this place unharmed, to repay you."

Arthur took a moment to try to digest this information. He seemed to be being spared from death which was a plus point granted, but what was all of the rest of it about? Since when had Mordred become evil? He was just a child! How could he ever think of harming someone?

Alvarr stepped forward looking incredulous.

"We cannot let him simply walk free!"

"We must, and that is the end of it." Mordred spoke with a dangerous sort of finality in his tone.

Alvarr still looked unconvinced, but stepped back respectfully.

Arthur was confused by this. Why did they all treat him with such respect? He was only a child!

Mordred looked at him once again and Arthur felt all the air rush out of his body. Mordred was anything but only a child. His gaze was cold and stern, and filled with hate and anger. He felt sort sort of immense power around him. He shuddered, he did not like to think what this boy could do.

He did not want to leave like a coward, with his tail between his legs, at the convenience of the Druids; his pride would not accept it, but he knew he had no choice. He had to swallow his pride, for the good of everyone in Camelot and not just a few moments of self-worth for Arthur.

"Well? Can I go now? Only it's a little hard to leave when you're enclosed in a ring full of enemies!"

Mordred gave him another cold stare.

Some of the Druids cleared a space on the path, clearly discontented with Mordred's decisions. None seemed to question it, once more, Arthur's curiosity as to what could evoke such a sense of loyalty and reverence amongst them for a mere boy.

He grabbed the reins of his horse and made to leave through the gap, when Mordred called him back.

"You are not the only one in Camelot to whom I owe a debt. There were more who assisted in my escape, the Lady Morgana, her maidservant and the physician, but not least of all; Emrys."

Arthur frowned.

"I know no one by that name."

Mordred smiled a mysterious smile.

"Ah, but you do. I believe you know him better as Merlin. Emrys is the name he has among my people, the name in the prophecies."

Arthur knew not what to say. Merlin had another name? Why did the Druids call him something else? What prophecies?

Mordred noticed the confusion on his face.

"I see he had not told you of his destiny. I can tell you already know his secret, but it plagues you as to why he would risk so much for you, does it not?"

Arthur remained silent. Mordred spoke the truth, but he would not acknowledge that. Merlin's motives had intrigued him to no end, even after he had reassured himself of Merlin's loyalty to Camelot.

Mordred beckoned for Arthur to follow him. He led the way out of the enclosed circle and through the trees. Arthur prepared himself for attack, he would not trust anything that came out of that boy's mouth until he had solid proof.

Mordred finally stopped in a clearing, where a large stone pool was situated in the dead centre. Runes were carved into the rough stone base which looked older than anything Arthur had ever seen. It conveyed a sense of mystery, an intrigue and an insatiable desire and longing for it. Its contents were silvery-blue and swirled around slowly, looking not like liquid nor gas, nor anything he had ever encountered. He felt a sudden pull to this object, he could barely control himself.

Mordred noticed him watching and said:

"This pool is one of the greatest and oldest artefacts in the world, a centre for the Old Religion. Its contents can drive men mad, or deliver them extreme happiness. The Crystal Of Neahtid was created from this pool and serves a similar function."

Arthur looked distrustfully at the pool. He did not like the way it drew him to it.

"Which is?"

"It cannot be truly determined, for it shows many things, the past, present and future, it can even see into the very hearts of men."

Arthur grew tired of skirting around the true purpose he was here.

"Why have you brought me here?"

"I see the doubts you have over your friend are still with you. I will repay my debt to him through you."

Arthur was confused once again.

"What do you mean?"

Mordred smiled with an intriguing look of innocence.

"I will show you who Emrys truly is."

A/N: I feel kinda guilty for making Mordred out to be a little evil brat but...he is destined to kill Arthur eventually isn't he? At least he does in the legends. Anyway, I thought he would be pretty pissed off at both Arthur and Merlin for attacking his people time after time and losing people he knew so...

Probz won't be an update tomorrow, cause of my exam on Wednesday but, you know me, I can't stop myself. You'll just have to wait and see!

Reviews make me happy!!!!