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"Every day, I wish I could have saved you."
They circled each other warily, eyes fixed unwaveringly. “Why are you doing this, Morgana?” Merlin asked. Anger and sadness deepened his voice, and his eyes narrowed as he surveyed his opponent.
“You know why,” she replied, but before she could add more, Merlin interrupted.
“I know that Uther wronged you,” Merlin said. “But Arthur is a good king.”
“The throne belongs to me!” Morgana threw a spell at Merlin. He managed to duck out of the way, and the force of Morgana’s attack blew chunks out of the stone behind him. He retaliated, and his spell sent her flying backwards into the wall. She lay, stunned, as Merlin regained his feet and approached her, hand outstretched.
“You’re mad, Morgana! You’re sick, and powerhungry,” Merlin said.
“That is the fault of those who raised me,” Morgana answered, her words quick with her fury.
“No, it’s not,” Merlin said. “I remember you, before any of this happened. You were kind, and good.”
“That wasn’t me!” Morgana exclaimed, pushing herself to her feet as she did. Merlin stumbled back, but kept his bearings as the two magicians faced each other.
“Yes, it was!” Merlin said. “Can’t you remember that girl? The one who cared for her brother, worried about Camelot’s people…”
“Oh, I remember her,” Morgana said. “Back when I was terrified of the night, afraid even to sleep. Worried I was going crazy, or becoming something dangerous and wrong!” She advanced on Merlin, pushing him to step back several paces. “If anyone is to blame for what I have become, Merlin, it is you! You knew what I was, and yet you said nothing! You threw me to the wolves, and so it was the wolves that took me!”
“I know!” roared Merlin, drawing closer to Morgana until only a foot or so separated them. “I know, and I’m sorry. Every day, I remember how things were before. And every day, I wish I could have saved you."
“A little bit too late for wishing now,” Morgana hissed, hand wrapping around her dagger’s hilt. But before she could raise the weapon against him, Merlin’s hand shot out, and Morgana went crashing into the rock around them once more. Her body slumped on the ground, unconscious, and Merlin kneeled at her side. Even he was a little surprised at the single tear that slid from his eye as he looked at the girl who had once been a friend.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her prone form. “So sorry.”
