Chapter 22: Dream of Things to Come

Morgana rode as fast as she could and against the wind. It didn't matter that her body was aching all over. It didn't matter that her fingers were stiff with cold. She had a plan. She knew what she had to do and all her thoughts were bent on that one objective. To set her mind on that goal had not been easy, but now that her decision had been made, she felt sure that nothing could make her turn back. For once in her life, she was going to do something for others and not for her own gain. She was about to commit the single most selfless act she had ever done.

And she was doing it for Merlin.

Why shouldn't she do it for him? He had done so much for her without ever asking for anything in return. Everything about him was right and true, while all of her life had been exactly the opposite. He had showed her a world of friendship and love, when her world had been filled with so much darkness and revenge. Without her memory, she had been unable to explain the hatred that she felt, but she had always known that she must have done something really, really bad. But Merlin had taught her how to be whole again. He had given meaning to her life. And it was that one speck of hope, that small chance at happiness that she was now hanging on to. Her memory might be back, but all the suppressed hatred was not enough to overshadow the few months of total joy that she had known.

Because she had been with Merlin, and when she was with him, everything was possible. Laughing was possible. Loving was possible. Joy and happiness were within her reach. Just the idea of enjoying another sunset under a warm blanket, side by side with Merlin, gave her something to look forward to. She had never had anything so powerful in her life. And it was such a simple thing too: love. No one had ever told her – not even Morgause – what lay at the end of their goal. She had been bred by Morgause to bring about revenge. But what kind of life was there after for her? What could one do after so much darkness and hate? She knew the answer now: there was only an empty void. Revenge was the end, while love was the beginning.

Love. She was in love with Merlin. Arthur's idiot manservant. The peasant boy from Ealdor. Yet Merlin was so much more than that. He was the only good thing in her life. The only one who cared for her happiness.

She pushed her horse to go even faster, but the beast neigh and shook its head in protest. The road was steep and the ground uneven. The path was getting narrower now that they had entered the forest. Even the light was getting scarce. There was no escaping it: she would have to stop for the night.

Bringing her horse to a slower pace, she wheeled off track and found a small stream surrounded by large trees that would provide some shelter. She sat on the wet ground with her back to a rock. The word to conjure a small flame came easily. She had heard Merlin say it so often before. She could rest here. She knew he would approve of the place.

Then something caught her attention. Though the light of the day was fading, the stream seemed unusually sparkling, as though small diamonds were floating on the surface of the water. She kneeled besides the stream, and as her fingers touched the water, she felt a strange tickling on her skin.

"Do not be afraid, Morgana Pendragon," said a crystal-like voice.

In front of her eyes, floating in the evening air, were small bubbles of water with faces in them.

"We are Velia," said the voice. "Spirits of the stream."

"How did you know my name?"

The clear bubbles floated even higher. "We know much about you. Your coming has been foretold. Much is known about you and Merlin Emrys."

Morgana took a step back, unsure if she should trust such creatures.

"We know what you are planning to do," whispered the voice. "And we know how much it pains you."

"How can you pretend to know me?" replied Morgana, feeling defiant.

"We know your heart. We know of your scars," rang the voice. "We can heal you. Let us heal you."

Suddenly, Morgana's chest felt tight, as though her heart was going to burst out of it. Her eyes were rapidly filling with tears.

"What are you doing to me?" she muttered, clutching her chest.

But her body felt lump. Her hand was touching the water and the strange tingling on her skin was now travelling throughout her body. Her eyelids were very heavy and without even realizing it she had laid down besides the stream, her hand brushing its calm water.

"We mean you no harm," whispered the voice softly to her ears. No, it was inside her mind.

"I have to go…" Morgana began to say. Her own voice sounded quite sleepy. Her brain was blurry. "Merlin… I can't let him…"

The last she heard of the voices was, "We know. Sleep now."

Then she fell through a veil.

Suddenly, she was in a dream world. Her dress was no longer dark but light and white. She stood on top of a hill, watching the fields below. The view before her was stunning: green pastures, tall trees, a lake at the bottom of the hill, and a clear blue sky. She knew it wasn't real, yet it felt real. She could hear the rustling of the leaves and feel the wind on her skin.

And laughter. Many voices were laughing at once. They were young voices, and not far from where she stood. She felt a powerful urge to join with those voices, to find who they belonged to. Everything about this dream was leading her there. Even the breeze was leading her into that direction. Slowly, she started to walk on the long grass. She was on top of a hill, and the voices were coming from below, near the lake.

She took almost no notice of the walk down the hill. All of her thoughts were turned towards the group of people that were becoming visible with every step. There was a tall lad of about twelve or thirteen years-old who was playing with a wooden sword. His opponent was a second boy, shorter and thinner, at least two or three years younger, and who seemed to be greatly enjoying making his older brother run after him.

There could be no doubts that they were brothers. The tone of their skin, the similar dark brown hair, the same mischievous manners; everything about the two boys spelled quite clearly that they were siblings.

Morgana's heart suddenly seemed to stop. Those two boys looked so familiar and so real. This was a dream, wasn't it? But it felt like more than a dream. Could it be a vision? Something that the Velia wanted her to see? If it was indeed a vision, then those two boys…

The idea pierced her heart like an arrow. She could feel herself trembling.

These were her boys. Hers and Merlin's. There could be no doubt about the father. Nothing else could explain the familiarity of their appearance.

And just when she thought that her heart was going to burst with joy, another young figure came running to join the two brothers. It was a little girl, no more than four or five years-old. She had white skin, long and wavy black hair, and a pale pink dress.

Morgana watched her run and then jump into the arms of the older brother. Then her gaze retraced the little girl's steps to a small cottage that she had not noticed before. It stood half-concealed by tall trees and the steep hill. Its highest window was overlooking the lake. A long silhouette was leaning rather heavily against the doorframe.

Merlin, thought Morgana, her heart on fire. These are my children. Our children. One day, we will live here and we will have this. We will be happy.

She meant towards him, but suddenly she was forced to take a step back when she almost bumped into a small boy.

The younger of the two boys was standing in front of her with a look of amusement on his face.

"Hello," he said cheerfully.

"Hi," she replied, a little nervously.

"What are you doing up here?"

He had such a sweet disposition that Morgana could only smile at him. Also, up close he was the spitted-image of Merlin.

"I'm not sure, but I'm glad to be here. Whatever here is."

The boy's look of amusement turned into a more serious expression. "You can't stay," he said bluntly.

"Why? Can't I see your father?"

Now his expression became plain stern. "This is more than a vision. They can't see you but I can. So it means that there is a veil between worlds that has been lifted. It's my gift, you see."

Morgana was shocked by the maturity of this boy, so young in age. What a strange gift to have. Was she responsible for it? Would her Seer powers transfer to her son? To all her children? And what about Merlin's magic?

In spite of her sympathy for the boy, she had to ask him the question that was haunting her.

"Do you know why I'm here?"

"It's not safe to walk between worlds," he replied plainly. "Bad things will find you. You might be tempted. It's not good for you here."

"What bad things?"

But they were interrupted by a loud calling. "Emrys, come back here! You haven't finished your training!"

The young boy rolled his eyes up briefly, and then his expression turned playful again.

"I've got to go." He smiled apologetically as he started to walk back. "Just don't stay here. Go back. Finish what you started; whatever it is."

But Morgana's mind was buzzing with questions. "Your name is Emrys?" she cried out to him as he was walking quickly down the hill.

He turned to look at her, smiled in acknowledgement, and then he left at a run.

Morgana watched him leave for several minutes, savouring the moment. She knew, somehow, that this encounter had changed her deeply. She wanted to fix that image in her mind, to remember every word, every movement of the wind, every sound of laughter and running feet.

A sudden hissing sort of whisper made her wheel around in half-surprise, half-fright.

You promised us, Morgana.

In front of her was a young boy, not older than Emrys, but he was pale and ghostly and dripping with water. His hair was splattered on his forehead. His eyes were grey and empty.

Morgana felt a scream in her throat, but none came out of her mouth. She was rooted on the spot. She could not even turn her head towards the lake again.

You promised us, Morgana.

She blinked and now there were many ghost-like forms, not just the one boy. There were women and children and men of every age.

You promised us, Morgana.

All the voices were speaking as one. She took a step back, but the apparitions began to advance on her. Every time she dared to look up, there seemed to be more and more. They were covering the hills as far as her eyes could see. They were everywhere, except behind her, so she kept taking steps back.

"Leave me alone! Let me go! How do I get out of this dream?" she said out loud.

Her pleading seemed to have no effect. She had become the prey and the ghosts were closing in on her. They were going to eliminate her, so soon after she had seen so much happiness in her future.

You promised us, Morgana.

It was true: she had promised. To herself. To Morgause. To their kind. She had promised revenge. But she knew now that it was not revenge that those spirits needed: it was rest. And, as much as she hated to admit it, there was only one who could give them that. It was Arthur. Arthur's rule was going to undo many wrongs. It had already started. With Merlin by his side, it was possible. And she would be a part of that, or she would die trying.

The scream that escaped her did not even sound like her own. "Let me go!"

Her foot touched the water of the lake, surprising her with piercing cold. Her gaze quickly sought the cottage. It was still there, but no silhouette on the doorframe could be seen.

"Merlin, help me!" she cried out. "Please!"

You promised us!

"Peace!" she yelled. "You shall have peace!"

And with those words, she fell backwards. Her back hit the water first, then the back of her head, and then her face. She lay suspended there for a while, seeing nothing but blackness above and many pair of eyes peering down at her.

And then, in the blink of an eye, she was no longer floating but lying on the cold and muddy ground, sputtering a mouthful of water and struggling to breathe.

"Velia…?" she managed to say.

But as her eyes adjusted to the pale morning light, she saw none of the sparkling water or of the spirits of the stream. She was alone in a dense forest. The day had come but she had had little rest. Whatever the Velia had meant to show her, it had taken most of the night.

Willing her body to move, she struggled to her feet. Her blue dress was soaked through and she was shivering with cold. At least, her horse had not run away. It was waiting patiently close by.

She had thought for sure that she was done for. She had been close to death before, but this had somewhat been closer. The ghosts had meant to make her pay for not keeping to her word. They had a right to. They were the ones that she had wanted to avenge ever since she had known about her powers.

Yet one little's boy words were ringing louder and clearer in her mind now: finish what you started. She knew that he didn't mean revenge. What would such a cheerful child know of revenge? No, that could not be it. She felt sure, in the depth of her heart, that he had meant to put her on the right path. Merlin had his quest to become the most powerful dragonlord ever to exist. Arthur was on his way to show his quality as a ruler.

This only left her with one deed to perform; the only one thing that neither Merlin nor Arthur were destined to accomplish.

She was going to kill Morgause.

…

Thanks for reading so far. I hope you liked this chapter because it's essential to how the story is going to end.

For those who are wondering, I haven't forgotten about the dragon egg. It's going to help Merlin in the next chapters.

Don't be deceived by the slow pace for updates. The conclusion for this story is all planned out. I just don't have much time to write (sad face).

Please drop a review, even just a short one. It helps me write faster!

P.S.: If you think the 'vision of the future' thing is similar to what I did in "Harry Potter and Archway of the Dead", then you are a really smart person. But the consequences are different for Harry and for Morgana. Harry sees something bad; and Morgana something good. Just read Archway of the Dead.

HighEmpress