❝ MERLIN'S GHOST! ❞
❝ I MEAN, YOU'RE NOT WRONG. ❞
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
Albany Bronwen was no Chosen One by any means, but being haunted by the ghosts of the greatest sorcerer of all time and a former king had to count for something, right?
❃ in which a lone...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
▬▬▬▬
"YOU, DEAR, CAN CALL ME MORGANA."
Albany's wand hand trembled, though she didn't dare lower it or avert her gaze. She would put on a brave face and fight if she had to, as much as she'd rather not. She wasn't about to give Morgana the satisfaction of seeing her fear.
"Is that supposed to mean something?" she deadpanned, and found it in her to raise an eyebrow at the witch.
Morgana's laugh was chilling. "Oh, not to you," she assured the girl, smiling horribly. "Though I must say I'm surprised Merlin hasn't told you about me."
"Evidently he didn't think you important enough," Albany retorted drily. The sarcasm hid the wobble in her voice.
The smile dropped from Faith's face, her expression left lethally calm. Albany swallowed her disgust at how Morgana was using Faith's body like a sock puppet; Faith was no angel, but nobody deserved to be used like this.
"Or he thought he'd seen the end of me," Morgana suggested darkly, stepping forward. Her eyes continued to glow golden, and it left Albany on edge. "As you can see, he has not. So now I'll just deal with you, and that will be the end of his lineage."
"Woah, let's take a second, no-one has to die," Albany argued hastily, a sharp thorn of panic stabbing at her heart. She raised both her hands in the air defensively, despite what a horrible idea taking her wand off the woman seemed to be. Where the fuck is Merlin when I need him? "We can talk this out."
Morgana gave another cold laugh, and Albany's skin prickled. "Someone always has to die," she announced, a satisfied smirk creasing her face. "Merlin knows this better than anyone. Why don't you ask him what happened to your brother?"
Albany froze. Her heart dropped into her stomach, terrified of what the witch was implying. "What did you do to him?"
"Oh dear, I didn't do anything," Morgana assured her sweetly. "Tell me, do you know anything about your ancestor?"
Suddenly, Albany wasn't so sure she did. Her hands slowly fell to her sides, eyes wide and uncertain; if she was the direct descendant of Merlin, that made Evander the same, did it not? He'd disappeared to chase destiny - no, it couldn't be true - but it made sense; had Merlin had a hand in the death of her brother? Was she paving her own path to the same fate under his guidance?
The thought was devastating, yet it consumed her; so much so that she failed to notice the pounding on the door, or the cracking of sinks and pipes behind her.
"Do you trust me?"
Albany froze, face falling as Merlin's voice echoed in her head. She glanced up at Faith, horrified, but the possessed witch couldn't hear him.
"Albany, do you trust me?"
She wanted to, she realised, listening to the soft kindness in his voice, recalling the fondness his blue eyes regarded her with. He'd given her no reason not to. He had helped her with the dragon and with George, and respected her when she needed space. Yet she'd been about to take Morgana's word over his. A sorceress of old magic who had cursed George and influenced Faith - a liar. Distracting her. This time, she heard the pipes creaking behind her as they were manipulated with magic.
