Author's Note: Fair warning, things might get a little sad from here on out. Just be prepared. And keep remembering that this goes straight into the sequel.

-110-

Morgana had been running for far too long. She was tired and ragged and angry. Everywhere she'd tried to hide the people hunting her had nearly found her. She soon realized they'd hired rogue sorcerers to help track her. She'd heard one of them talking about selling Aithusa's scales and teeth. This had been the final straw for Morgana. She was done running, done hiding. She would meet her enemies head on like the sorceress she was. Aithusa was big now. Not full grown but much bigger than she had been during their captivity. Her white scales were magnificent and her claws and teeth lethal. She still did not speak aloud, but she did not need words to communicate with Morgana. When Morgana told her they would make their stand against the men hunting her, Aithusa had sent off a shoot of fire into the sky. She would do anything to protect Morgana. Morgana vowed to do the same.

This time she and Aithusa tracked them. It wasn't hard to find them. Their campfire gave them away with the chugging smoke. Their overconfidence would be their undoing. Morgana had Aithusa let her down and sent the dragon flying off. She would head an aerial attack while Morgana attacked from the ground. "No survivors," Morgana told Aithusa before the dragon took off. She was done being hunted. She and Aithusa deserved a place in this world, and she wasn't going to let a group of slavers take that away from her. She heard shouts up ahead and knew the men had spotted Aithusa. The dragon's shadow fell over them, blotting out the sun. Against the brightness, Aithusa would be hard to spot. Her scales reflected the sunlight and sent blinding glares down. Morgana strode forward, magic surging outward. She threw aside the first two men who turned to face her. She sent a surge toward the others, and the earth ripped up under their feet. Her eyes glinted amber and two more were sent into trees with a backbreaking force. Now she met with resistance as the two sorcerers with the group sent spells at her. Morgana blocked them easily. Aithusa sent down a shoot of fire, and the sorcerers ducked away to avoid the fireball. Morgana took advantage of their distraction and knocked one aside. He slammed into a tree and, when he tried to get up again, she sent another surge of magic at him. He didn't get up again. Something slammed into Morgana from behind, and she fell forward. The second sorcerer had crept up on her. Before she had the chance to retaliate, a boy strode forward, hands held outward. The sorcerer's eyes widened before he flew backwards and lay still. Morgana watched from the ground as the boy turned to face her. Bright blue eyes met her own hazel ones. An ache of familiarity filled her.

"Mordred." She hadn't seen the boy since he was just a child save her vision, but now here he stood before her. He knelt and offered her a hand. She stood, looking him over. He was grown now, and she could see the years he'd lived in his eyes and in the tilt of his lips. He had not known an easy life since she'd last seen him.

"Morgana."

Aithusa roared from above, and then hovered above them. "It's all right," Morgana called to her. "He's a friend. He saved us." She turned back to Mordred. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"It's been a long time. I see neither of us has had an easy life."

"Our people have never had easy lives," Morgana agreed. "Why were you working for those men?"

"I've had to make my way in this world. Why is Sarrum hunting you?"

"Because he hates magic, and I escaped from his prison. I'm tired of this life. Tired of running, of being afraid. But I'm also tired of fighting. I don't know where to go anymore."

"Sarrum was looking for something," Mordred told her. "I think he thought you might be able to lead him to it. It's something that can change the future, something he might be able to use as a weapon against magical people."

"I don't know of anything with that kind of power," Morgana said, shaking her head. "He's wasting his time chasing fairy tales."

"It's not an object," Mordred told her. "It's a person. A person who can shape the future."

…

Merlin's mother had arrived for the wedding. It was in two days, and Ryll was feeling both nervous and excited. Gwen and Hunith were arranging everything, and Gwen was making Ryll's wedding dress herself. They would be holding the ceremony in the same hall where Arthur and Gwen had been married. It would be a small ceremony with the knights, Gwen and Arthur, Hunith, and Gaius. Ryll had sent an invitation to Byron, but she hadn't heard from the druid since their argument. There was another missing place, but she didn't know where Morgana was, and she didn't see how it would be possible to have her there.

She'd been dreaming the same dream every night but each time it ended before anyone was hurt. All she knew was that someone was going to die. She didn't know when exactly this vision would happen, but there was a half-melted covering of snow on the ground within her vision, so she knew it was soon. She felt like everything had been building up to this moment, but she wasn't ready. She felt a hollow ache build up suddenly in her chest. She wanted to talk to her parents. She wanted their advice. She hardly wanted to unburden herself on Hunith even if she was to become Ryll's mother in two day's time.

A crazy plan rooted in Ryll's mind, and she couldn't shake it. What if there was a way to speak with them? She'd done it before. After the Shadow Wraith had nearly killed her and she'd ended up hovering between life and death, she'd spoken to her parents. What if there was a way to lift that veil for a short period of time? She didn't want to unbalance anything, but she only needed a moment to speak to them.

She managed to slip away from Hunith and Gwen and saddled Owl hastily. She rode the familiar path to the druid's camp, hoping that Byron would speak to her. He was bandaging a druid child's arm when Ryll rode into the camp. He looked up when she dismounted, and his eyes were hard as he sent the child off.

"I need your help," Ryll told him.

"Who needs saving this time?" he asked reproachfully.

"No one. I need to talk to my parents."

Byron's eyes softened, but he frowned. "Ryll, that's not possible."

"Are you sure?" she prodded.

Byron sighed. "There might be one spell, but it's tricky and dangerous."

"I need to speak to them, Byron, please. I'll never ask anything of you again," she pleaded.

Byron let his breath out in a huff. "I very much doubt that." But he disappeared into a tent and reappeared a moment later with a book. "We need to be somewhere that has a connection to them," he told her.

"Everywhere is too far away. I don't have time to visit their graves," Ryll told him.

"Is there anywhere else closer to here?"

Ryll paused to think. "I have Sidhe blood in me from my mother's side of the family. The Sidhe live in Avalon. What if we visit the lake there?"

"That just might work. Come on."

Byron tucked the book into a satchel and grabbed his horse. They rode in silence at first, and Ryll figured that Byron was still frustrated with her. She wasn't about to apologize though. "Did you get my invitation?" she asked finally when the silence grew too heavy.

"I did."

"And are you coming?"

"I didn't know if you'd want me there," he replied, not looking at her.

"Of course I want you there. You're one of my dearest friends."

Byron finally turned to look at her. "I'm sorry for what I said before," he said. "I worry about you, but that doesn't give me a right to tell you what you should and shouldn't do."

"It's all right. I know you were just looking out for me." She gave him a smile which he returned. The remainder of their journey was spent in silence. Byron didn't ask why she needed to speak to her parents, and when they reached the lake, he helped her learn the spell. It was complicated, but Ryll's determination was stronger. Byron stood back as she spoke the words. It required a drop of her blood which she let fall into the waters of Avalon. The waves churned slightly as if accepting her sacrifice and then settled to their placid blackness. At first Ryll thought it hadn't worked. She swallowed back disappointment. Then a voice called her name from behind her, and it was achingly familiar.

Ryll turned to face the woman who had said her name. "Mum."

The woman had Ryll's golden hair and bright blue eyes. Laughter lines were etched into the corners of her pink lips. She smiled at Ryll. "Amaryllis," she said in her sweet voice that reminisced of trickling brooks and birdsong.

"Where's father?" Ryll asked, looking around.

"He couldn't make it. You called me forth by magic and blood. Only one with the same magic could answer."

"Why didn't you tell me I had magic? That you did?"

"To protect you from a world that wasn't yet ready for you," her mother said sadly. "But you have made your way even still. The young king listens to you, values your friendship. I am so proud of all you've accomplished." A tear glistened in her eye, and Ryll tried to fight back her own tears.

"I'm not sure it will make a difference," Ryll said. And then she spilled her story starting from the very beginning when she had saved Morgana's life up until her latest vision. She didn't know if her mother somehow knew all of this already, but it felt good to lay it all out before her anyway. "I'm afraid very soon I'll have to make a choice. I just don't know what that choice will be or at what cost. I want to save both Arthur and Morgana, but Byron keeps telling me that I'm going to get myself killed. And then there's my destiny that the Sidhe told me about where I can give my life to save Arthur."

"You shouldn't listen to Sidhe," Ryll's mother chided her. "They oftentimes bend the truth. With your magic you do have the ability to save lives, but that doesn't mean it will come to that ultimate sacrifice. Arthur could die tomorrow or he could die in twenty years or live a very full life. You don't know, and it certainly isn't your destiny to die for him. Arthur is strong. He can look after himself."

"So all this time I've been worried over nothing?"

"Ryll, it has always been your choice whatever happens to Arthur. No one can force you to make that decision, and I know Arthur would not want you to give up your life for his. His duty as king is to protect his people and his kingdom but yours is not to die for anyone. Only if you choose to."

"I wish I knew how my vision ends," Ryll said regretfully. "I just know with all my heart that someone is going to die on that battlefield, someone I care about."

"The future is a fickle thing. Always changing. Even the smallest thing can change the entire outcome of the future. You cannot see the ending of that vision yet because it has not yet been decided."

"Do you know when it will happen?" Ryll asked.

"Soon," her mother replied. "Sooner than you think." Ryll's heart sunk. "Someone searches for you," she said suddenly. "He is searching for you now."

"Who?"

"He sits astride a great warhorse and carries a hatred like no other." Her mother's eyes were distant as she spoke as if she was seeing into the distant future. "Magic has done him great harm in the past."

"Sarrum. I saw him in my dreams. Why is he searching for me?" Ryll felt a jolt as the details of her dream came back to her.

"He thinks you hold the key to the future," her mother said, turning her eyes back to Ryll. They seemed to glow, and Ryll saw something reflected there like sunshine. She saw a door and suddenly she was back in the vision she'd had in Ealdor.

"Do I?" Ryll asked as the images faded.

"You hold the future in your hands. It is a great burden, but you are strong. Your compassion for others gives you the strength you need to make the right choices."

"But what choices? What if I can't make the right decision when the time comes?"

Her mother was starting to fade as the connection began to fail. "You'll know when the time comes. Just remember that it will always be your choice. No one can make it for you."

"Wait! I still have so many questions!" Ryll called after her mother.

"This isn't our last goodbye," her mother said, coming forward and pressing a kiss to Ryll's forehead. Ryll watched, helpless, as her mother faded away. Now she would never know what her last words had meant.

"Ryll?" This time it was Byron's voice. She realized she was sobbing when arms wrapped around her. She turned and buried her face in Byron's shirt. "Did you speak with her?" Byron asked softly. Ryll could only nod. "Did you find out what you needed to know?"

"My destiny has been mine all along," she said, pushing back her sobs. "No one else can choose it for me."

"Did you really think anyone would have any amount of luck telling you what to do?" he asked with a grin. Ryll smiled slightly through her tears. "Come on, I'll take you back to the castle. Wipe those tears away or Merlin will think I've said something terribly wrong."

…

Ryll could tell at once that something was wrong when they rode into the city. Knights were rushing to posts and Leon stopped to speak with her. "We've just had a messenger from King Sarrum. You'd better go speak with Arthur."

At the mention of that name, Ryll felt dizzy. The blood in her veins seemed to roar in her head, and she could hardly hear Byron saying her name. Ryll slid from Owl's back and started off toward the castle at a sprint. Byron followed after her. Ryll burst into the council chamber, and everyone within turned to look at her. Arthur looked worried and Gwen hovered at her side.

"Ryll." Arthur furrowed his brow at her entrance.

"What does he want?" she asked. "He's the one who imprisoned Morgana. Is he coming here?" She couldn't keep the panic out of her voice, and Merlin gave her a confused look.

"He seems to think we have something here, some sort of magical device that can change the outcome of the future."

You hold the future in your hands. It is a great burden, but you are strong. Her mother's words echoed in her head.

"Ryll?" Merlin questioned, coming forward.

"It's preposterous. Why would I have something like that here if it even exists?" Arthur said. "I sent the messenger off with a warning, but we'll be ready if Sarrum decides to come to claim this rumored item." Someone searches for you. He is searching for you now. He sits astride a great warhorse and carries a hatred like no other.

Everything was beginning to fit together. Sarrum had been in her vision. She had thought he was coming for Morgana, but it was her he really wanted. Perhaps he thought Morgana had something to do with all of this because as far as she knew, he had no idea Ryll even existed.

"I thought Sarrum hated magic. Why would he be searching for an object like this?" Byron asked.

"He thinks he can use it," Arthur told them, "to eradicate magic once and for all."