But Now, I Know

Placing The Blame

Their footsteps echoed ominously around the empty passageway as they ascended the stairs from Kilgharrah's lair. They kept glancing over their shoulder and into the shadows, worried the silence was too quiet to be safe, the corridors too empty for Kyulds not to be lurking around every corner. Although Merlin and Morgana had discussed it briefly, they still weren't sure what state Kyulds was left in after Merlin had attacked him. Maybe he was injured, maybe he wasn't. 

They rounded a corner and found themselves in the same archaic room where Kyulds had tried to block their path. The bright clean glint of Excalibur shone from the floor and Morgana's heart nearly burst through her chest at the sight of it. She had spotted the sword after the explosion, why hadn't she thought to grab it? She hurried over and grabbed the hilt. If kyulds wasn't strong enough to come back and retrieve such a valuable weapon... maybe Kilgharrah was wrong and he had been wounded by the blast.   

Merlin swayed without her support, feeling the full weight of his injuries. "Morgana-" 

She ran back to his side and handed him the blade to use as a makeshift crutch. He nodded his thanks and indicated that they should keep going.

"We've got to get to the stables... get horses..."

Morgana looked Merlin over, estimating his strength, and cringed. "Maybe... maybe you should wait here."

"No, no way! I'm not letting you go alone unprotected." This is what she thought he'd say. 

"Your life is what he's after. If you die..."

"You're not going alone."  

Morgana nodded, but still stole a few quick glances at his gaping wound when she thought he wasn't looking. Eventually, she couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Here," she said, intercepting the boy and easing him down to sit against a wall. "We should at least patch you up."

He let out a sudden gasp of pain as the angle of his torso reached an uncomfortable position. "I'm not great at healing magic."

"I am. Had to be, given all the times I was roughed up from a battle with you or Arthur."

Merlin smiled through his pain. "You fought us?"

"Oh yes. It felt like hundreds of times."

"And you lost?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes not." She wracked her brain, trying to think of the right spell and willing her untamed power to bend to her will. "I'm going to do my best. This spell is simple so hopefully I can pull it off with the state my magic's in, but because it's simple it might take some time."

"We don't have time."

"Well, we can't go any longer with you in this state. You might need to fight him off again."

"If all I have to do is touch him-"

"No!" Morgana said sharply. "You have to promise me you won't do that again. You heard what Kilgharrah said."

"Kilgharrah says lots of things and if there's one thing these past few weeks has taught me, it's that sometimes when that dragon is unsure, his speculations are just that. Speculations."

"I think he's right about this. I have a feeling. If we face him again, it'll have to be with our magic alone."

"Fine," he huffed, although Morgana could tell that his agreement wasn't a sincere one. She didn't bother attempting to convince him. She knew it was no use and could only hope that it wouldn't come to that. 

She help up her hands in front of Merlin's chest and prepared to cast the spell. She felt her magic bubbling inside her. It felt unfamiliar and immature, wanting to burst out in small reactions instead of surrendering to balance and control. She took a deep breath and concentrated on channeling the spell. "Batian mín fréobródor, batian efenherenes..." Her eyes burned gold through her eyelids as energy coursed through her hands. A dim glow emanated from her palms as she traced them along the deep cut. Merlin winced. "I'm sorry," she said.