The Witch

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Morgana sensed the Isle of the Blessed immediately. Breaking the silence, she shouted to Merlin,

"Left here!" Merlin was confused, but he obeyed. "Keep going," Morgana directed. "Right!" The car turned onto a small gravel road. At the end was a forest. Before the car had even stopped, Morgana was jumping out and running. She ran down an almost hidden path, not even waiting for her companions to follow. They did.

Morgana burst out of the woods and saw the lake. The dock was still there, and a boat was tethered. Her sister came to her side, breathing heavily. Merlin almost fell into her. Gwaine had been the last to exit the car, but he was the best conditioned to running, so he sprinted easily through the woods. He tripped over his own feet and fell down. Morgause looked down upon him in disgust. Merlin helped him up.

"How did you find it?" asked Gwaine in admiration of Morgana. He could see Morgause gritting her teeth.

"I sensed it," she explained, looking at the castle in the middle of the lake. "I am a High Priestess."

So am I, thought Morgause bitterly.

"Good job," said Merlin. He smiled at Morgana. They walked down the small hill to the dock, where they encountered the same ferryman that had always been there. Merlin had anticipated this, so he handed the man a few gold coins. They entered the boat.

The ferryman brought them through the familiar passage and into the fortress. His silence was enough to tell them to get out. When they did, the boat glided silently away. They were alone.

"This way," said Merlin, walking fast through the ancient halls to the main altar. When they reached it, Morgana stumbled. She hadn't tripped, but rather recognized the place as where she had killed her sister. Morgause gently touched her shoulder.

"I asked you to," she reminded the guilty woman.

And it accomplished nothing except misery and death, Morgana thought. It caused the death of Lancelot, noblest knight of them all. She didn't say this out loud, only smiled at he sister as if she was grateful.

"Morgana," Merlin said. He stood in front of the altar. She stood beside him. Just where she had killed Morgause. They began chanting the spell to talk to speak to the dead, but there was no voice. They looked at Morgause and Gwaine, but neither seemed to channel Nimueh. Morgana glanced at Merlin, but he too was himself.

"Nimueh?" asked Morgause. There was no change.

"This can only mean one thing," said Merlin solemnly. "Nimueh is in this world."

0O0O0O0

"What does that mean?" Gwaine asked Merlin. "Is that bad?"

"It really is," Merlin replied. "It means we can't talk to her without bringing back her memories."

"But we have to!" Morgause exclaimed. "We must know!" Truthfully, she didn't care about the reason for the reincarnation. She doubted she would live long enough to encounter whatever Destiny wanted Arthur to face. She just wanted to see Nimueh again. She might have an answer to her lack of magic, and it was possible that she could help Morgause with her problems with the Sidhe.

"Morgause is right," Merlin said. "We have to find her." The travelers that had at some point had magic looked between themselves with worry. Gwaine faded out of their circle until he spoke, his typically carefree voice tinged with a bit of worry.

"Won't be too hard, I expect," he said. The magic people turned to look at him, and saw what he was seeing. A beautiful woman stood in the crumbling archway. She had wet black hair and the bluest eyes Gwaine had ever seen.

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