Chapter Text
For the first time in her life, Morgana LeFay felt in control.
She reveled in the throes of her power, cackling gleefully as she watched her summoned doppelgangers force back her brother and his troops. They fought with all the cunning and skill as she did, steadily pushing back the knights of Camelot. Soon, only a few remained standing, attempting to protect their dear king, her buffoon of a brother.
Speaking of which, Arthur fought with all he had against one of her shadows. He swung and struck, but she blocked and parried. They went back and forth, but despite all his efforts, she was gaining ground and soon he would be trapped with his back against the cliff.
Surely, he would concede then?
She watched with interest as he locked weapons with her shadow. Just as he forced her weapon away, though, she threw a punch that connected with his chin.
He fell backwards and skidded across the grass, rolling onto his stomach just as he slid across the cliff’s edge.
A gasp escaped her then, and she instinctively reached out to him. Her hand gripped her Shadowstaff as she prepared to open a portal should he fall.
He never did, but instead clambered back over the edge. She breathed a sigh of relief, then turned her eyes onto the rest of the battleground.
Merlin’s apprentice—or rather, his glorified errand boy—tried his damndest to face her, but he fell with a sweep of his legs.
Her brief handmaiden—who’d shown such great promise—was pinned beneath one of her shadows, being struck across the face.
Merlin—the old fool—fought back, but was failing against her. She knew he had greater power, and he was most certainly holding back.
Alas, it was time for this charade to end. They would submit to her and they would listen, whether they wanted to or not-
Just as Morgana reached out to command her shadows, Arthur raised his sword to the heavens. Excalibur shined golden as it let loose a pillar of light that shot up into the cosmos, then came down with the light of the sun.
A part of her was awestruck to see its power in use, the rest of her was revolted that it was her brother, who feared magic to the point of outlawing it that wielded such power.
“Enough!” The King of Camelot called, then struck the ground and released a shockwave of magic.
She cried out and threw her arms up to protect herself as the rapidly expanding dome of light pushed out, burning away her shadows and throwing her—along with everyone else—back.
There was a moment of stillness, as they all lay tired and weak. But then, as she looked up to spy Arthur rising with his gleaming sword, she felt rage surge through her.
She felt anger at his hypocrisy, felt fury at his willingness to slaughter the innocent for their gifts of magic while he wielded it without concern.
With her resolve found once again, she shot forward and flew at him with her Shadow Staff. He raised Excalibur and they met with a clash of sparks, their opposing magics conflicting with each blow they made.
“You outlaw magic, but fight with an enchanted sword!” She scowled and forced him back, swinging and striking with all that she had. “You snuff out any power that isn’t yours, but I won’t go so quietly!”
She made to bring him down with a powerful blow, only for him to step aside and around her. Suddenly, they had traded places, and now her back was to the cliff’s edge while his was to the Wild Woods.
“I denied your true nature for so long because you are my sister!” He went on the offensive, attacking savagely as she struggled to defend. “But when I look at you now, all I see is a demon! A witch!”
They engaged in another power struggle, Excalibur weighing down upon her Shadow Staff.
“And all I see is a little boy driven mad by hatred and prejudice!” She pushed back against his assault with a surge of strength, causing him to backpedal a few paces.
He recovered quickly, but she focused her magic quicker. It channeled into her left hand, gleaming and shimmering as it manifested into existence.
Swiftly, she sifted through what spells could defeat him.
Arthur was a brute, durable and resilient. He would not be felled by simple spellcasting, not with Excalibur still in his hands.
But, perhaps, something that could blind him? Disorient him? Force him to concede by a disadvantage?
Yes, that would do.
Morgana lifted her left hand as a magic circle seared itself into the air, encircling her palm. “Goodbye, brother!”
“Stop!”
Suddenly, a wall of blue light manifested before her, and she stared dumbstruck as her spell shot off with a golden flash harmlessly.
It took her a moment to recognize the simple architecture of the magic portal, a novice’s spell.
“An infinite doorway?” She looked over as Merlin’s apprentice Douxie came running over with the Time Map in his hands. “You-... You dare?”
She gripped her Shadow Staff as he stopped, suddenly intimidated. He visibly swallowed, then glanced to the other side of the portal as Arthur gave an infuriated bark. “Do not test me, boy! Lower this barrier, now!”
The boy looked between them, then opened the Time Map. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, your highness.”
She eyed him curiously. For a peasant picked off the streets by Merlin, he was acting remarkably confident. It was as if he’d grown a backbone in the short trip from Camelot’s gates to the Wild Woods.
Was this a trick? A deception of Merlin’s?
She glanced behind her and gripped her staff. Douxie watched her fearfully, trembling as he let the Time Map project its image of the future—or rather, attempted to.
The map flickered and flared, alternating between bright blue and burning red. The image stuttered in its attempt to study and interpret the timeline, doing away with possibilities until it came up with the most definite possibility-
Morgana clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes, leveling a glare at Merlin’s apprentice.
“I do not have time for your games, boy!”
“No! Please, you must listen!”
“I will not!” She channeled her magic and levitated off the ground, seething with ethereal power. “For too long have I listened to my brother rant and rave like a mad dog! Baring his fangs against any who bear the gift of magic! His bigotry ends now!”
“And it will!”
She turned as her traitorous handmaiden ran over, stopping short of them. “Just, please, listen to Douxie.”
Morgana arched an eyebrow, then glanced at Arthur over the infinite hallway. He locked eyes with her and gripped Excalibur tightly, but made no move to attack. She held her Shadowstaff in a vice grip, but breathed in then looked to the boy.
“Very well, what platitudes would you offer us?”
The apprentice shook his head, then raised the Time Map. “No platitudes. No morals. Just the truth.”
He gazed up at the map as it finally settled upon the consequences of their actions….
“What?” She looked upon Camelot, its walls shattered, its towers felled, and its keep ablaze.
The image shifted and suddenly she was looking upon a corpse… Arthur’s corpse.
She looked to her brother, who seemed as baffled as her. He spared her no glance, instead staring morbidly at the sight of his death.
When she looked back to the map, she found it had gone to a final image, her.
Her future self was adorned in armor, unlike any she had seen before. It was marked with intricate designs, resembling those she’d seen in ancient places and tomes. What stuck out to her most, though, was her helm. It bore many, jutting horns, resembling a monster of sorts.
Morgana descended to the ground and studied her image with alarm, her mind and heart racing.
“Don’t you see?” Douxie dispelled the infinite hallway and glanced between her and her brother. “If you keep at it, then all is lost. You. Camelot. The future.”
“You would presume that this bauble can foretell events to come?” Arthur huffed as she looked to the ground, trying to make sense of how events could unfold in that way.
“Yes.” Suddenly, Claire stepped past them and stood beside the boy. “And if it doesn’t, then I do.”
“What are you doing?”
They all turned as Merlin stormed over, holding his staff tightly as he eyed her. She shot him a glare and held her staff at the ready. Thankfully, he moved to engage with his apprentice and the girl.
Douxie straightened up, but held a hardened face. “We’re changing the future.”
“Dabbling with time is not this simple!” The elder wizard snatched the Time Map from them, and then he looked to her and Arthur.
She breathed in, still reeling from this revelation. After a moment of thought, she dared a peek over to her brother.
Their eyes met, and she saw conflict in his gaze. He was afraid, like her.
Morgana clenched her free hand and looked to the children, wondering how they could have foreseen this. How could they have known? What would drive them to alter events they were unknowing of?
That’s when it hit her. Claire had claimed to be able to verify the map’s findings, which meant….
“You’re from the future.” She pointed at Claire, then at Douxie. “You are not from our time.”
They exchanged looks, then nodded at her.
“That is enough!” Merlin struck the ground with his staff, releasing a soft repulse of magic. “No more questions! No more-”
“No!” She snarled and bared her teeth at him as she stepped forward. “I must know! What becomes of us?”
She watched the children as they blinked, then tried to come up with an answer. They whispered as Merlin glared. All the while, she shared weary glances with Arthur, both of them still on edge.
“Well….” Claire rubbed her neck, sweat dripping off her brow. “We’re not sure what happens to King Arthur, but… you….”
Morgana leaned in closer as the girl struggled to speak, visibly disturbed.
“I what?”
“You become a monster.”
Her eyes widened, and she took a step back out of shock.
There was pain in Claire’s eyes, as well as fear. “You try to wipe out Humanity by creating an Eternal Night, letting the Gumm-Gumm trolls take over the world.”
Her breath was taken from her, stolen by the horror and dread that creeped upon her. It felt as if a veil of shadows had been draped over her, falling upon her shoulders and weighing her down as she came to terms with all that she had learned.
For a moment, she couldn’t speak. She could barely even think, too busy caught up in the storm of clashing thoughts that argued over whether she was consigned to this grim fate or not.
Yet, after what seemed an eternity of dwelling in her despair, she focused back upon those surrounding her. They watched her with a myriad of expressions, ranging from fear to pity.
Morgana took a step back, reeling from this rude revelation. “That cannot be.”
“And yet, it is.”
She looked to her brother as he gripped Excalibur and raised his darkened face to meet hers. There was pain in his eyes; and regret.
“Brother?”
“This future cannot be allowed to unfold.”
“Brother, wait!”
“Your majesty!” Merlin threw himself between them. “The future can change! The choices we make now will cascade across time itse-”
“Enough word play, Merlin!” Arthur shoved him aside. “The fate of our world hangs in the balance! Here and now!”
He raised his magic sword, leveling its tip to her heart as she held up her Shadow Staff.
“Arthur, please!” She trembled and struggled to channel magic into her left hand. “I would never do such terrible things! I’d never kill you!”
“She’s right, your highness!”
Douxie appeared between them with his hands held up and open.
“Out of the way, boy!”
“No, please!” He clasped his hands together and begged, “There was another future, one where you and Morgana reconcile.”
Arthur faltered. Morgana sucked in a breath. They stared at Douxie as he glanced between them.
“The memory.” Her chest became tight as she pieced it all together. “When we were in the woods. Those projections of us as children, of… of Guinevere…. That was you?”
The boy gulped, then nodded. Arthur bristled as she looked back on those days, those tragic yesterdays they’d spent with Gwen, frolicking about the Wild Woods.
She was suddenly pulled from her thoughts, however, when Claire appeared beside Douxie sheepishly. “We wanted you to remember together.”
“Remember what?” Arthur towered over the youths, glowering down upon them. “What did you wish to remind us of? The ever-present fear of wandering the unknown? Or perhaps every terrifying moment I saw a shadow that was not our own-”
“You were the only one who felt fear, brother.” Her voice was low and dangerous as she flicked her eyes to him, rising up to stare him down. “Gwen and I beheld our time in the woods. We longed for the freedom they offered! The adventures we discovered in them!”
He scoffed haughtily, which only spurred her anger further.
“You were ignorant of the dangers then!” He pointed into the distance—into the past—and then he jabbed his accusing finger at her. “And you continued to ignore them, despite my warnings! Do not forget that it was you who led Guinevere to her death!”
“I did no such thing!”
“She would have been safe in Camelot! With me!”
“She was trapped! Imprisoned by your fear of the unknown!”
“Your obsession with magic blinds you, Morgana!”
“And your grief blinds you , Arthur! It always has!”
“I loved her!”
“I loved her too!”
Morgana froze, her breath hitching and her chest tightening. She blinked her wide eyes, hot tears running down her pink cheeks. She continued to flush red as she looked, averting her gaze as embarrassment washed over her.
At the same time, Arthur’s sword arm steadily fell as shock overtook his fury. He stepped back and stumbled a bit, reeling from her declaration.
Nearby, someone—the buffoon Steve probably—coughed awkwardly. The rest looked upon her, their eyes burning holes into her head. All the while, she struggled to control herself as a shadow grew on her brother’s face.
"Submit.” He raised Excalibur once more, but this time there was no hesitation or regret on his face. “Prove that you would not betray me the moment I turn my back."
She glanced from the tip of the blade as it burned golden to Arthur’s hardened expression. She swallowed and stepped back, then shifted to her left. He moved opposite, sending them in a clockwise motion as the others tried to stop them.
“My lord-”
“Do not intervene, Merlin! This is between my sister and I.” He changed his pose, gripping his magic sword with both hands. “Submit, Morgana.”
She wanted to. She truly did. In that moment, with her deepest secret laid bare and her future revealed to her, she wanted to concede. She wanted to give up.
But, if she did, would that be the end of it? Would Arthur be saved? Would Camelot be spared? And would the world of magic she had fought so hard to protect be delivered from her brother’s wrath?
Or would he simply use her absence to do what he had always desired?
Her heart pounded against her chest and beat in her ears as she handled her Shadow Staff and shifted her footing. Magic channeled down her left arm, building in her palm as she stared Arthur down and breathed in deep.
"I will not.” She sifted through what spells would be of use to her and chose one that would stagger him, giving her the time to open a portal and flee. “What reassurance would I have that you wouldn’t march on the Wild Woods again?"
Arthur’s expression remained stone cold before it melted in fiery rage. “That is your concern? These mongrel beasts you are so keen to protect!”
“They are living beings, Arthur!” Her magic manifested in her hand, sizzling across her fingertips. “I will defend the world of magic from you, no matter the cost!” She raised her hand and cast her spell. “Goodbye, brother!”
There were shouts and cries as everyone around them surged forward to intervene. Merlin’s staff shined a brilliant emerald as Claire reached out in vain. Douxie tried to jump at Arthur while the buffoon Steve rushed from afar, hoping to throw himself into the fray.
In the end, they were all too slow.
Morgana flicked her wrist and the magic circle wreathed her hand once more. It blazed with power and erupted with a bright, golden flash. A force accompanied it, strong enough to knock her brother back.
It had been meant to disorient him, to throw him off balance or even put him on his back long enough for her to escape. If all had gone well, she would have opened a portal and jumped through into the Shadow Realm.
However, she had not accounted for her brother’s vindictive wrath. Even as he reeled in shock, he blindly lashed out with Excalibur.
She didn’t register the blade as it sliced through flesh and bone, just beneath her elbow. Not until her spell became unstable and blasted them all back.
In the seconds that followed, she lay breathless on the ground. Her ears rang and her mind was muddled. Then she felt the tickling of grass against her cheek, the softness of the ground beneath her. And finally, she felt the pain.
Morgana screamed, and then she whimpered. Clutching what remained of her arm, she tried to put pressure on the wound as it burned agonizingly hot.
She looked at her stump of a left arm, watching as raw magic bled from it. Then, she looked at the rest of it, dismembered and lying in the grass; bleeding raw magic too.
“No….”
Her eyes flicked to Arthur, who rose to his feet with an aghast face. He shook as he watched her with a horrified look.
“Brother?” She stared at him, unable to recognize the monster that had replaced the noble knight she had once known.
She let go of her stump and reached behind her, scrambling back.
“Morgana!”
He reached for her. She reached away, and grabbed something. Her staff.
She snapped her head back and flicked her staff, channeling her magic. A portal opened beneath her and she sank into the depths, falling into the dark.
“Morgana!”
It was too late. She sank into the abyssal depths of her portal, the last sight of her cowering and terrified… of him.
Arthur breathed in, then out.
The world spun about him as his stomach churned. His heart beat against his chest and in his ears like a drum. He heard cries and shouts as the others of his party struggled to come to his side. He ignored them, however, and instead focused upon Excalibur.
He stared at his magic sword, at the symbol of his power.
Its golden glow had dimmed, darkened by the blood that stained it. His own sister’s blood.
The shock passed. Fury overtook him. Fury at Morgana for her stubbornness, at the world for its injustice, and at himself for his failure.
Caught up in his self-loathing, King Arthur of Camelot raised Excalibur, then struck it against the ground.
Both he and the blade shattered, but only he fell to his knees and cried out in anguish.