Crossfire

"I Forgive You"

Merlin

"Weak," Morgana said, giving a dark chuckle. "With such power and a title I thought you would be a challenge." Her foot made contact with my side, kicking me with a brute force, my mouth erupting with blood and saliva.
Wiping the crimson on my arm lethargically, I put my hands to the ground, attempting to push myself up, groaning as Morgana only kicked me again.
"You hurt Arthur," I growled.
She smirked, leaning close to my ear to whisper the words. "He deserved such." Morgana then leaned back, watching as I struggled weakly to stay defiant—to prove myself capable of dedication. Morgana shone the sword in my face, twirling it teasingly as I took heavy breaths, a malicious grin now dancing across her lips.
"Tell me something, Merlin." She paused before continuing, looking into my eyes, searching for something out of my grasp. "Why did you remain loyal to my brother when he defies the law of magic?"
My eyebrows furrowed. "Because I know he will bring magic back to the land." I swallowed the oncoming blood, the metallic taste making an appearance in my mouth. "Once he's King, he will free the enslavement of it."
Morgana raised a brow to my accusation, surprised by my loyalty. Titling her head, she reached down to me, placing Excalibur on the skin of my throat, drawing a thin line of red. The action burned, as I stared into her eyes, trying to find some goodness left in her. "Morgana, you don't realize what happened to you. You're blinded by hatred."
Bringing the sword away, Morgana studied it, leaning it different ways to see how my blood dripped down the metal. Then sighing, she let out a soft, arrogant chuckle. "Even if you are correct, I have valid reasons as to why I went forth with it." Her eyes trailed to mine. "You, on the other hand, don't. Protecting someone who is against your kind?" She scoffed. Before I could answer, Morgana's lips tumbled, as I was then flung across the room.
"You are a disgrace to your kin, Emrys," the witch's voice echoed, the talking soon dissipating from an overwhelming sound of ringing. I blinked, trying to rid away of the blurriness, clawing at the ground to try to see where Morgana was. My heart thumped wildly, my breaths labored and heavy. My eyes traveled up, making out a distant, bleary figure advancing towards me, a glint of light flashing by their side.
"One stab to the gut," Morgana resounded. "And one stab to the heart." Hearing a swoosh with the cutting of air, the same foot I had felt earlier tossed my side to face the ceiling, as I gazed at it with a glazed look.
Tsking, Morgana rested the blade on my heart, letting me feel the cold that emitted from the object. "Even powerful people can be defeated," she taunted.
"I made a promise that I would not die today," I rasped out in an angered reply.
Morgana smirked with fake pity. "Really now?" She drew the blade deeper, cutting the first layer of skin on my chest. "Well since that promise was broken, are there any final words you'd like to say?"
I mentally rolled my eyes. She wanted to make this as dramatic as possible. My eyes met hers, as I gave her a harsh glare only reserved for such times. "I gave you chances, Morgana. Many chances. You always sought them through, though. You never saw the light—what it can provide unlike the darkness." Sighing, I finished in a quiet voice. "You're corrupted, Morgana. You can't be repaired."
And my brain must've been tricking me, but I swear, I saw a flicker—something to show that a tiny sliver of her cared. A quick look of regret and guilt.
But again, my mind had to be tricking me. I just wanted such cruel actions to cause guilt to Morgana—to make her realize that proceeding these deeds only brought fear and injustice to the land.
"How considerate of you, Merlin." Morgana gave a cold smile. "Poor choice of words before dying, though. But how caring, I must say."
I had no more than a moment to react when the blade came plunging down. Quickly rolling aside, pain flared up my body, encasing me in a numb state, adrenaline making an appearance in my system. My eyes glanced to Excalibur, then Morgana, as I then let the words fly from my mouth in anxiety. An invisible force blasted the witch away from me, as she then fell to the ground, sliding a few feet before resting to a stop. Quickly sealing her fate, I mumbled another spell, waiting as the sacred blade made its way into my grasp. Then, stalking over to her, I breathed heavily with each step, not giving a damn about my pained muscles. "Now it's my turn to speak my mind."
Her face was filled with utter shock and terror, trying to deny this moment.
"I went through the same experience as you—being an outcast, not being loved, not being cared about—just avoided in almost every situation possible. My heart ached for something like what you had when you stayed in Camelot. I was constantly abandoned by others because that word struck up in a conversation or made an appearance in their mind. My mother told me it was gift, but my brain told me otherwise." Taking a shaky breath, I inhaled, not wanting to let Morgana have the win of seeing me breakdown. "For years I was imprisoned in darkness—I didn't know what to do except wish it all way with false hope." I looked down. "I empathize on a level unimaginable. I just thought because I changed you could change too." My eyes were now glossed with tears, as I glanced over to see if she had changed upon my confession. If she wanted to be the lady she once was. Alas, I saw nothing but a wicked smile on Morgana's face.
"You couldn't save me even if you tried," she replied viciously.
My expression instantly hardened upon her reply. She had changed for the worse. "I know, and I'm sorry." Clenching my teeth, I rested the sword on her gut, glaring with hatred into her eyes. "This is for taking my kingdom from me." The blade cleanly stabbed the witch, as she gave a cry of pain.
I dismissed her, continuing. "This one is for manipulating everyone." Another plunge. "This one's for hurting innocents and taking their magic away." I then paused, watching her body wreck of blood and tears. It was sickening—not just because of me watching her slowly die, but myself slightly craving watching the witch in complete disparity. "And this..." I trailed off, giving a mad chuckle, my brain turning to mush when thinking about him. "This one is for hurting Arthur." The sword pierced her heart quickly and in a silent motion, as the witch then fell limp, her body colliding against the ground. My heart thumped, as I watched her go, staring to make sure she was gone. Placing two bloody fingers to her neck, a moment passed, as I listened.
There was no pulse.
I quickly shut my eyes, before letting them shoot wide open again. Stumbling up, my knees buckled, as I clutched my wound, trying to make my way to the entrance of the room. Sliding out, I stared down the hallway, seeing only unconscious guards in sight. Letting my body switch to autopilot, I trudged to the neighboring chamber, stumbling over the bodies along the way.
"Arthur!" I yelled out with a pained crack. Limping over to the next room, I felt my bloody arms weakly push against the door, the weight too heavy for me at the moment. My body leaned against the door, my eyes rolling up. I tried to maintain composure, as I closed my eyes, then pushed the doors open with an inflicted grunt. Falling into the room, my eyes instantly settled on the resting figure on the ground.
He looked so peaceful.
That was before I took notice to the blood, though. My eyebrows scrunched, as I limped over to Arthur, eyelids now undeniably weighted. "No no no..." I gasped, dropping to my knees, tears beginning to threaten my eyes upon taking in the sight. My hands gently touched his cheek, feeling the sudden cold hit me, my fingers twitching. I then proceeded to cup his cheek, raking my other hand through his hair.
"Arthur; you promised you wouldn't leave me," I croaked, feeling tears stream down my face. Closing my eyes, I tasted the salt, breathing out a broken sob.
To have a blank slate—a fresh start, Arthur's voice had said. My fingers delicately fondled with his shirt, face now red and smeared with tears and snot.
I soon felt my eyes begin to droop from exhaustion and pain. Sniffing, I layed my head on his chest, my hands grasping onto his lifeless ones, looking to gaze at the floor. The blood was prominent—the crimson a major contrast against the pale stone. I squinted my eyes. Something about the trails seemed off. Some smears were curved—splotches leading into wisps of blood, then suddenly cutting off, as another path with a different course took place. Confused, I leaned my head to the side a little—away from Arthur's chest—as I was now sitting, staring at the trail closest to him. My face instantly paled.
It was a message.
I could see it clearly, but I still needed to stand in order to process the sentence entirely. My blood pumped wildly, my body trembling, eyes showing white; before I fell to the ground, meeting unconsciousness.
'I forgive you.'

A/N: Hello everybody! Yes, this chapter is dark. Yes, I did it on purpose. No, I do not regret anything. If y'all enjoyed this book so far or enjoyed this chapter, please leave a vote or comment! The support means a great deal to me! Bye!