Chapter 89 (Mordred Intermission 1)

'Mother' was not a word that she'd ever used with positive connotation. It had no warmth, nor love, only a bitter indifference at the fact that she was nothing more than a means to an end. Any sentiments of longing or want common from all children seeking the affection of their parents were mercilessly unreciprocated. Mother was petty. Mother was always mad. Listen to mother, that's all her life was worth.

She was a homunculus, a being born from the machinations of magecraft, yet not in a traditional sense. She was born of her mother's flesh and blood naturally created through the meticulous fertilization of an egg; an artificial insemination allowed its life to serve a single purpose.

For all intents and purposes, she could only be considered a homunculus in theory for she too was conceived in a manner in which every child was born. She was just a little girl forced into maturity at the designs of her mother while never knowing the care of a father.

Guileless child. Obedient child. Future King.

Yes. Mother had to have known best. Defiance only meant the isolation room. Alone. Alone. Always alone. Not worth anything. Only a tool. Not even human.

Mother was wrong. M-Mother had to be wrong. O-Old man Ector had called her special, a person. Not a tool… never a tool. Why did he look so sad? So aghast on her behalf? Could old man Ector be right? Could she dare to hope? Dare to imagine that a further meaning existed in her life?

She had to know. She had to try. Mother said it was a mistake to leave her in old man Ector's care, but for the first time, she didn't agree, almost lashing out when mother bad-mouthed him.

She ran away searching for her own answers, her own path, and found admiration and purpose in the ideals of the King old man Ector spoke so fondly of in passing. She sought to earn recognition, favour in a childish bid to have someone she admired acknowledge her. Yet she was shunned every time, pushed further and further away from the King despite earning a spot in the Knights of the Round. M-Mother was right. Alone. She would always be alone.

Then she found warmth in human relationships, and for the first time stepped out of the dark and dreary mental cage she'd always been trapped within. She found light. She found life. Dare she say affection? Happiness?

Her mother could no longer affect her anymore. She was free, or so she'd thought. The question now, was a simple one. Had she ever truly managed to escape?

Mordred felt a shiver travel down her spine, goosebumps forming over her skin at the thought of her mother taking away every semblance of comfort she'd painstakingly accumulated through her life. To reduce her until she was worth nothing once more.

Mother, what have I ever done to you?

The room was tense, a terse silence all to be heard as the Witch and Wizard carefully observed the other. Mordred did her best to angle herself behind her teacher, trusting in him to keep her safe and away from the woman she now refused to call 'mother' in Shirou's absence, her emotional support and pillar of strength. Any eye-contact Morgan tried to level on her was swiftly beaten to death with a hasty side-turn in fear of being hexed with whatever magecraft her mother practiced.

In the quiet din, Merlin gingerly picked Caliburn up from the ground and glanced at her with an air of amused chastisement. He'd likely seen her earlier attempt at stopping Morgan and all the good it did when she was too terrified to even hold up her sword. "So, much for a fearless Knight."

He was trying to rouse her morale through agitation and embarrassment.

She would have argued. Really, she would have, but the presence of her mother sapped away any notions of bravado or false confidence she had. Childhood conditioning wasn't something easily lost. Her shoulder's hunched, the pallor of her complexion paling. "I-I'm sorry," she dipped her head lowly, squirming at the incredulous look on Merlin's face. She missed the way Merlin's gaze shifted from her, to her mother, then back to her, a scowl forming over his lips as his features hardened.

"Enough of that," Merlin flicked her on the forehead, causing her to wince, but not retaliate. Merlin frowned, and flicked her on the head again, but was met with the same result. There was a dullness to her features, bordering on listless acceptance.

Where was the fire? The rebellious youth? She just stood there and took everything without protest.

"Just like mommy, remembers," the softness in the voice belied the cruelty to demean a child to the point of mental trauma.

Mordred was trembling, her breaths taken in short gasps. She knew it was cowardly, but she sunk even further behind Merlin's back just to be out of her mother's view, something her teacher was keenly aware of.

"Alright, fine," Merlin's tone was gentle, accommodating before a wall of magic energy formed around him. "Rest, young one. Leave this foe to me."

The ambient energy in the air Merlin released primarily gravitated towards her to annul the presence of Morgan's influence. Mordred finally looked up to see her teacher's expression shift away from his general smugness into something incredibly neutral as his attention focused on Morgan. Arturia would have been proud if not for the fact that her babies were in the middle of all the chaos, floating above Merlin's left hand and balling their eyes out for mommy or daddy.

It was a sight that would certainly spur the young parents into action faster than anything, but this was besides the point.

Mordred had never seen her mother look so grim in the face of an adversary. The boldness and confidence she'd shown prior evidently more of a ruse to fool herself into standing her ground against the greatest non-GrandCaster Wizard to ever walk the earth.

"I thought you weren't one to actively participate in the world's affairs?" Morgan was treading on thin ice, her demeanor guarded, her muscles taut.

"I'm not," Merlin replied evenly. He was alternating between holding his staff or Caliburn with his freehand, and ultimately deciding to use his staff for versatility. Caliburn he threw back towards Mordred on the off-chance Morgan got passed him. Mordred barely caught the sword with how stiff her limbs were, but Merlin didn't comment. "I take more joy in merely observing as the pieces fall in place among humans. They always were the ones to possess the most emotion either in despair or happiness. They're my life blood in a sense."

Morgan wet her lips, subtly tapping the butt of her staff on the ground to activate a sequence of pre-placed sigils throughout the room. She needed more time. "Yet you hold no real love for them," she continued the banter.

Merlin merely smiled. A small smile whose meaning hosted a mixture of wry and indiscernible sentiments. Mordred keenly noted that Merlin didn't deny the statement, but was too under pressure to react.

"You'd sooner see humans die than involve yourself with individuals unrelated to your prophecies," Morgan continued. "You are the audience to a world play, indifferent to actors making their entry or exit unless they suit your whimsical fancy or are women you wish to bed."

"It's fuck. Don't be a prude." Merlin interjected, earning the flustered glare he knew Morgan would level on him. "Sex is sex. No sophistication needed."

"I am not a prude. You are just vulgar."

"I prefer an advocate of women's freedom in these conservative times. Call me a true 'missionary' in all things." Mordred couldn't understand why Morgan looked so indignant; so, appalled at what Merlin had just said until Merlin continued. "The full view of mind breaking ecstasy, the scent of womanly arousal, and full access to pert buds that create shivers at a touch or nibble does wonders for libido."

Mordred felt her trust in Merlin slipping while Morgan let out a forced grin, the butt of her staff striking the floor again. Done.

"I knew there was more than one reason I hated you. No wonder you trained Arturia when she was young. If she were older and more sensible, she'd never be within two steps of you."

The magic sigils hidden throughout the room thrummed and enlarged into an intricate motif of a hanging cross covered by smaller rotating magic seals. The horrific keening noise of grating metal was offset by the black mist creating a thin layer over the floor of the room.

"You almost sound like you care." Merlin didn't even flinch at the jab, eyes discerning the nature of the spell aimed towards him while Mordred backed further and further away from the mist.

"Perhaps I did once upon a time." Merlin's smile sobered at the admission, an army of skeletal golems and homunculi forming from the hazy mist. "I wasn't always called a Witch," Morgan continued into a rant. "I wasn't always spiteful, vindictive, or callous enough to let jealousy cloud my judgement." She laughed. "I was there when Arturia was born before it was to be announced that she was to usurp my position. I held her in my hands, burped her after she drank from a wet maid's milk after mother passed away. I knew my role, and what it was to be as an elder sister, and now, now I regret not dropping her on her head."

"It wasn't just envy, nor anything else so petty. It was the realization that I had never been loved." Morgan wordlessly sent her conjured army forward, sharpened bones and striated muscles of the homunculi creating an inescapable avalanche. "I was father's throw-away! The fair princess that got married off to have children to secure political connections without a care! And young Arturia, she had everything both because of your prophecy and that father actually cared for her to entrust Mr. Ector as her guardian! H-He was my guardian, my father who was more of a father than my actual father!"

Merlin took no action to dodge. He almost seemed reserved at Morgan's admission, letting the summoned abominations draw nearer and nearer much to Mordred's concern. The fear of having someone she cared about taken away from her outweighed the terror of her mother gripping her heart like a vice. The grip she had around Caliburn tightened, defiance alighting within her irises as she found her resolve. Yet a soft voice bid her to wait, taking her personal feelings into consideration and acting to protect her in a way her mother never had.

"I always hated the taste of bitterness."

A dream and nothing more.

All at once, the tide of summoned creatures exploded into a shower of flowing rose petals that danced throughout the room. The bright sigils once glowing upon the walls and floor dimmed before shattering with the reverberation of a black staff tapping against stone tiles.

"Uther was a biased father, but he did what was best as a King in his era," Merlin admitted through the flurry of dancing roses.

For the first time since she'd come under his tutelage, Mordred felt the weight and power of Merlin, Wizard of Camelot. Spells, attacks, and tactics can all become useless against him at the drop of a hat, the ending of a dream.

Morgan backed away step by step. This wasn't the first time she'd fought against Merlin, and it was just as one-sided as it was before. "You were his advisor. Someone father took pride in because your clairvoyance lets you view anything that will happen in the present. No war was ever lost with your insight," she hissed, shifting her trepidation into scorn.

"I was indeed Uther's advisor." Merlin waved his staff, and the flowers across the room faded as if they and Morgan's preparations were never there. Morgan felt a chill travel down her back, but she maintained her ground. Mordred had never seen her mother seem so angered.

"And you did nothing but watch while knowing what was to happen to my family's relationship in your inaction." Morgan's hands balled into fists in her accusation. This one instance in her life was her lowest point, the only genuine time Morgan the Fair had desperately wished for aid; to be saved by a person she knew understood her plight and her fraying mental stability.

"…I was an observer."

Abandoned once again for her sister. For a moment, she took a shuddering breath and her instance of vulnerability was gone. Merlin could have said any reason, any single reason for why he'd never helped her, and perhaps she could have understood, yet his answer was damning. As she'd thought, she'd always been second fiddle.

Her teeth grit together; nervousness and trepidation tossed out the window in favour of indignation and fury. "Did you foresee my triumph at present? Is that why you're here?"

"…" Merlin didn't answer, and that was answer enough.

"So, I won. I did it. My plan works and now you're interfering knowing that I get my way. You are a hypocrite content to interfere with the business of humans despite calling yourself an observer!"

Mordred looked from Merlin to Morgan, sensing the muted tension between them, Merlin with resignation, and Morgan in bitter anger. Merlin sighed and shook his head. "Who says I was dealing with humans? The blood of Dragons runs through your family's veins. I'm well within my rights to have favourites, and your current self isn't very endearing."

"I will admit that I was indifferent to your plight with young Arturia in the past. As compensation, I vowed not to actively hunt you down even after causing your sister such grief with the notion of killing her husband in front of her." Merlin was somber. Regrets weren't exclusive just to humans in the first place, but he wouldn't deny his nature. He'd always been apathetic to the world at large, and by the time he realized he should have had done something to prevent an ill future, a prophecy was all that he could use to mend the wound. Morgan the Fair, had truly died several years ago, but he'd always given her a chance. "I gave you as much leeway for change as possible in your vendetta. It was between you and your allies against Arturia and her allies, plain and simple. My Godchildren though, they are not to get involved."

Annabel and Artus hovered protectively above Merlin's left hand. The fact that he was squaring off against Morgan single-handedly was the subject of Mordred's amazement. She'd never put Merlin and Shirou in the same pedestal in her mind, yet now she was beginning to realize that Merlin should be given at least a measure of respect that wasn't offset by his pervasiveness.

Morgan grimaced at Merlin's reply, actively gathering her wits and raising her free hand towards the top of her staff. "They are children whose blood of dragon is nothing but a quarter, making them hardly different from human. By your own views, they shouldn't matter," she reasoned.

"You'd be correct, but I'm no fool. It isn't just about the blood of Dragons," Merlin couldn't mimic Morgan's actions since he was using his left hand for the twins, so instead, he merely raised his staff up higher. A ball of magical energy gathered at the center point and charged ever brighter. "The procreation of two half-bloods makes two quarters that when combined still makes half. You chose to target the wrong individuals, Witch Morgan. All three of them are equally human as they are phantasmal. They do not have my indifference. They have my favour from one half-breed to another. You will not harm the twins, nor get anywhere near a precious student. Mordred still has no idea, but she is perhaps the most loved individual in Camelot second to the King and Queen. Harm her, and you make an enemy of all of them including myself."

Mordred opened then closed her mouth. Her eyes stung at Merlin's revelation considering how shunned she had always been by others. She now knew that she was loved, needed. Not useless, not worthless, a person. In contrast, Morgan was taken aback.

Mordred sucked in a breath. What was she doing while Merlin fought on her behalf? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"Mordred," Merlin called out to her. "However unlikely it may be, I want you to take the twins and alert the castle of an intruder on the off-chance Morgan was too complacent in her planning."

She would have replied had it not been for the abruptness of the spells the two magic casters unleashed upon one another. She was stunned that throughout the two's entire conversation, beams and radiating magic spells were constantly traded without so much as alerting anyone in Camelot that a battle was occurring within its walls. There must have been some sort of silencing mechanism involved. Still, she nodded to convey that she'd heard Merlin's instruction.

"Good," Merlin didn't waste time and levitated the twins into Mordred's arms where they recognized their 'big sis Mordred' and desperately clung to her.

Mordred ran and opened the door of the royal bed chambers only to see an endless corridor lined with neither windows or doors. It was just a simple tunnel illuminated with burning candle sticks and nothing else. The earth scent of dirt and grime pervaded the walls as if they were underground.

"You wound me, Merlin." Morgan laughed after coming to terms with Mordred's popularity in Camelot. "I admit, I was caught off guard by my daughter's popularity but's it's an unexpected boon. Nonetheless, I've waited far too long for this moment to not have considered all possibilities."

Mordred tried to enter the corridor, but a single step was all it took for the entire passage to blur.

"An illusory-based bounded field," Merlin noted. He actually looked impressed, and that was telling since Mordred had never seen Merlin give her anywhere near that level of a contemplative expression during her tenure as his student.

Bright sigils in the blurred corridor acted as the main power source of the spell. Merlin gave it a scrutinizing stare, and was frankly impressed. "What a waste of potential. You show just as much talent in magecraft as young Arturia, but she chose a different path than you," he lamented.

"She gave up kingship, our birthright! She is a fool," Morgan interjected.

There was no use arguing here.

Mordred felt tensions soar once again at her mother's outburst such that Merlin could no longer keep Morgan at bay without any effort. "Keep the twins safe," he advised before using bath hands to channel his magical output into his staff. The effect was immediate as any spell Morgan wove or launched faded away into petals.

She nodded at Merlin's instructions and backed up while keeping Caliburn firmly in her grip, her other arm used to secure the twins to her chest made easier by her lack of a sizable chest. The realization wasn't a proud moment for her, and for an instant, a tic mark formed over her temples, irrational anger at her subpar endowments exceeding her fear.

Then came the waves of overwhelming magic that made her own natural magic resistance obsolete.

"Let wind gather and flow. Let earth act as the source."

She shielded her eyes as Merlin raised his staff and a gale force of wind made way to earthy spores that hovered in the air. From what she knew of her teacher, he wasn't a magician well versed for attack like Shirou. He was a support mage. What he lacked in lethality, he made up for in versatility.

"A garden in bloom."

The spores unwound and blossomed, creating a barrier that stopped all attacks. At the same time, he looked towards her, saw her resolution, and wordlessly acknowledged her in a way only master and student could decipher.

He nodded his head, and flicked his staff towards her, a blast echoing in her ears as she felt a swell of power well up from deep within her. Merlin's strongest power wasn't in himself, but in others. At this moment, she recalled just why Shirou and Arturia put so much faith in Merlin despite his numerous faults.

He is the one who creates heroes.

"I believe in the path you'll take. Now go!" He beckoned under the cover of his magic, believing that she'd understand what he wanted of her.

The impulse to charge in nearly got the better of her, but then she felt the twins in her embrace and recalled Merlin's instructions to protect them. What was she supposed to do? Wasn't it clear?

'This light will pierce through the grey.'

"Caliburn, Light of Selection."

Caliburn released a dull thrum, the blade shining with mots of pale luminescence, glowing like embers. She pointed the sword forward, drawn by instinct and a careful lulling lullaby to aim true. Visualize the dark. Picture the evils weighing down the heart and mind, and as one, call out for the brightness that pierces through the veil.

"Banish the wicked!"

A beam of energy cleaved through all, yet harming none but its intended target. A choked gasp and a blood-curdling scream reverberated within the room, nearly freezing Mordred in place by the familiarity of the voice.

Merlin waved his staff, and cleared away the dust and grime. The room was a mess, nothing left unharmed. The beds and furniture had ended up destroyed and tossed to the furthest wall of the room, and there standing at the center bleeding with her left arm missing was Morgan. She looked ashen, unable to believe that an attack could selectively bypass all defence and strike her directly. She hastily staunched the bleeding of her missing arm with her free hand, and glared hatefully at her adversaries.

"I-I didn't mean to…" Mordred trailed off while looking at the extent of damage she'd caused.

"Shut up! I need not the pity of a tool," Morgan rasped, droplets of blood splattering across her face. "I'd have offered you one more chance, but no more! You've proven to abandon me anyway. I've had enough!"

Mordred felt a sinking sensation in her stomach that only grew worse when her mother's attention all but locked-onto her. A pressure began to build from the back of her head until her vision began to blacken, the sensation reaching its apex as Morgan raised a hand towards her. Merlin, sensing her discomfort, attempted to intervene, yet nothing he did could interfere. In the black haze that clouded her mind, she became distinctly aware of an agonizing scream echoing throughout the room. It took a second longer to realize the one screaming was her.

Merlin appeared as if his hands were tied. He should have eliminated Morgan as quickly as possible, yet he'd had no solid means to do so. Support was his greatest magic, and Mordred was to be his attacker from a distance. "You couldn't have possibly-"

"I did. It's exactly what you're thinking," Morgan answered, breathing heavily as Mordred's screams died down.

"It's not merely magic," a savage grin alighted over Morgan's face, her lips quirking upward. "Dear Mordred may have a mind of her own, but that body is something I birthed. The magic itself is part of her just like her blood, but as any magus knows, exerting one's will over another is excruciatingly difficult and not without limits. I'd preferred it if my own flesh and blooded aided me willingly, but she never had a choice to begin with."

Merlin suddenly sobered. "I probably should have seen this coming. Give me a second, now I do see this coming." He let out a weary breath. What was the honest point of clairvoyance if it only let you see what was in the present? Many things actually, but in combat, not so much. "I don't suppose you'd consider a duel, Wizard to Witch?"

Morgan backed away, using her magic to avoid the vines Merlin had summoned to ensnare her. "I am no knight, and that's answer enough. Mordred, bring my nephews here."

Like hell she'd do that! Through the haze of her mind, Mordred scoffed. Despite her shock and regret at amputating her mother, she hadn't lost her rationality. There was no way she'd endanger the twins or even allow herself to disappoint her King. What she failed to understand was that her thoughts differed from reality.

No. Stop! Stooop! She gnashed her teeth, beads of sweat forming over her brow from the exertion of keeping her body from moving, but it was like she was a passenger in a vehicle without a steering wheel. Regardless of her feelings, Morgan's words brooked no room for defiance. From Merlin's perspective, he could see the life in her eyes fade away to an eerie blankness.

Without a care, her body moved towards Morgan step by step, causing the smile on her mother's face to widen and Merlin's to drop. A tangle of roots and vines suddenly snaked their way up her ankles and up her legs much to her relief. She could trust in her teacher as she did with her comrades. The only variable now was herself, and the first thing she had to understand were her own capabilities. Unwillingness didn't mean unskilled.

In a single deft motion, she watched herself cut the vines, and Merlin's expression twist into a scowl. He then launched a blast of energy to incapacitate her, but rather than defend like he expected, she walked right towards it without any raised guard, the twins still in her hands.

"Well now, will you attack your student too?" Morgan goaded.

Merlin only had an instant to consider before he defused his own attack and once again formed thick roots that sought to entangle her, but if only it were that easy.

Mordred could only watch in dull grief as all the training she'd ever done to let her reach a level of skill near Arturia and the other knights was used for all the wrong causes. The magical energy within her soared, releasing all at once in a burst of power funneled to her blade which instantly cut apart the summoned roots. The action left her vulnerable, and yet Merlin didn't strike knowing Morgan would instruct her not to defend at all. Effectively, it was a hostage situation with the hostage as the hostage.

"You aren't making this easy for me aren't you, student of mine?" Merlin's grip tightened around his staff.

I'm sorry! She swallowed audibly before a ball of fire broke through the bounded field surrounding the room with sheer force. From the breach, she could hear a small commotion as Camelot's patrolling guards began to investigate outside. Yes! Yes! Happy news!

She glanced at the ball of fire which took the form of a flaming predatory bird in relief.

Efret.

"Ah yes, you. Finally."

The relief was quickly snuffed out by how calm her mother sounded. The breach itself was fixed with a snap of her mother's fingers, none of the barrier points that powered the bounded field actually broken. Moreover, Merlin's expression was still grim. W-Was this also a trap? Mother should have long since known about Efret.

'E-Efret!' She tried to call out, yet her body refused to comply. However, Efret understood her anyway and moved towards her despite glaring at Morgan. Efret hadn't once forgotten the face of the woman who'd tried to kill its master.

"Young flame. No fear. I help." Efret's words echoed in her mind before a gout of flames ejected from its body and into hers.

On the back of her left hand, a crest began to glow from beneath her skin. The sigil of the Ashton Crest that she'd never taken notice of over the back of her hand shone in resplendent light, resisting whatever compulsions Morgan had set in her.

She looked dumbly at Efret, equally stunned as Morgan. Regardless, she was thankful for whatever it was Efret did.

"Stay safe. I kill witch."

She nodded stiffly. Mobility restored, she ran straight back to Merlin and deposited the twins in his grasp lest she be unable to restrain herself again.

"What you did was quite unexpected," Morgan became guarded towards Efret. In the past few years, Efret had only grown stronger as a pinnacle grade Phantasmal. Its flames could raze the country side into an inferno, and she could tell that Efret recognized her from the past. There was no doubt that it sought to kill her, and with Merlin still opposed to her, the odds were against her.

However, this situation was exactly what she was waiting for.

The hardest task of her plan was stalling Merlin long enough for the Ashton protector to notice a disturbance in the royal bed chambers. She just had to wait for her chance now. A point when Efret got into position… This point was now. The quicker the better. She stood no chance of facing off against both the beast and Merlin.

As Efret reared its head back to spout off a column of magic fire towards her, Morgan brought her lone hand up and clenched it into a fist. A sequence of magic symbols shone in the air where Efret hovered, tearing through the air and revealing a land of fertile fields and a tranquil glade.

"Welcome to Avalon," she intoned before a magical force sucked Efret through the gap where it promptly closed.

Silence stretched, and in this silence, Mordred felt like someone had just punched her in the gut. She and Efret had never truly gotten along, but she never hated Efret either. Every interaction they'd ever had, though aggravating, was done on her behalf. Reluctant as she was to admit it, but Efret was just as much her friend as her fellow Knights of the Round. More than that, he was a protector who genuinely cared for her, and now Efret was gone.

She rounded on Morgan. "What did you do?!" She all but screamed.

"A portal to the Reverse Side," Merlin hummed.

Morgan's smirk was telling. "The Ashton's were known for their strong Phantasmal familiars. On even grounds, no single magus could face their onslaught, but there's a sure method to defeat them. A method that defeats even the strongest of phantasmal beings by imprisoning them."

"Boundaries.," Morgan and Merlin said at the same time before Merlin grimaced and Morgan continued. "This is the Age of Man. Phantasmals no longer belong, and with the bird gone…"

The light of the Ashton crest over Mordred's left hand began to dull and wane before she soon found herself restricted once more.

"Mordred, stand over there."

Her body complied despite her struggles.

D-Damn it.

She looked around and noticed she was standing in the same area where Efret had been transported away. A feeling of dread pooled inside of her.

As Morgan raised her one arm towards Mordred, Merlin raised his staff towards Morgan.

"Go ahead. Strike me." Morgan revealed no fear. "The instant you do, Mordred will be thrown into a place in which she can never hope to return, and it's not like you possess the means to kill me in an instant either."

The chill Mordred was feeling only grew more pronounced at her mother's intentions. Loneliness was one of her greatest fears.

"Avalon, the ever-distant utopia. A place so remote that it can hardly be found even in the Reverse Side," Merlin recognized the name. "You seek to counter the Ashton Anchor by opening a space towards an area difficult to locate even by other Phantasmals," he surmised.

Morgan didn't deny or acknowledge the statement, rather she gripped her fist and left Merlin with no choice but to make a decision, and what other choice did he have? As the air tore around Mordred, he appeared by her side and shoved her away, much to Mordred's surprise. An instant later, and he was gone.

"Nooooo!" Mordred's emotions broke through the restraints of her own body, her voice hoarse. There goes another loved one who cared for her in his own way. First Efret, now Merlin. Merlin of all people. H-He shouldn't have lost. There was no way! The ease in which he handled Morgan spoke of the difference between the two, yet the one contrast between the two was heart. The last thing she could recall was Merlin's face moments before he disappeared.

In the end he was just… he was just smiling at her as if this wasn't going to be the last time she'd ever see him. Moreover, he was still holding onto the twins before he was sucked inside. A rational part of her mind reasoned that Merlin taking the twins was a better alternative then leaving them alone with Morgan, yet did it really matter right now?

Why?

Why her? How was she supposed to tell this to Shirou and Arturia?

O-Oh God. She felt sick.

She felt numb as realization set in. T-This was her fault. She did this. How else could Merlin have lost? More than anything, as she looked to her mother, and saw the vindictive glee on her face, she knew that this was only the start of her despair. "You've been a naughty child, but fret not. Mother knows it was those savages that led you astray. Soon enough, there won't be anyone left and it will just be you and me again. Doesn't that sound grand?"

'No. M-Mother no don't. I-I'll be good. I promise. S-So please just don't harm anyone else!'

If her mother could hear her, she made no reaction other than to slowly shake her head.

"All for you Mordred. All for you. Look forward to it."

From an emotionless face and hollow eyes unable to convey the turmoil within, Mordred was inwardly sobbing, chocked gasps and laboured breaths escaping her mouth. The tears that couldn't be shed, the emotions that couldn't be expressed soon became overwhelming when mixed with her anxiety of what was to come. Tears began to trickle down her pallid cheeks and unnaturally calm features.

'Remember Mordred, mommy always knows best.'

"Come Mordred, we have much to do," Morgan gave a triumphant grin.

"Yes mother," her voice was dull and flat. It wasn't even her speaking as if she was just some cheap creation.

Morgan walked ahead, Mordred following suit a step behind, the pitter patter of tears striking the floor echoing keenly in her own ears.

Not a person. Never a person. A Homunculus... Just a tool.