Merlin's revelation had fallen like a bombshell on Umbria's heart. Morgana, reeling under the weight of a stolen truth, demanded answers. Merlin, cornered by his own past, had no choice but to comply.
He summoned Dracula and Morgana to the secret chamber of the library, where the copy of the Keys of Solomon rested on its pedestal. The air there was thick, charged with the energy of ancient magic.
"Very well," Merlin said, his voice weary. "I will tell you the truth, Morgana. The whole truth."
Merlin began his tale, going back to the glory days of Camelot, when he was King Arthur's advisor, and Morgana, his beloved, was a powerful and respected sorceress.
"But you, Morgana," Merlin said, looking into her eyes, "were no mere sorceress. You were so much more. You were the daughter of Igraine, Queen of Gorre, and Uther Pendragon, the previous king. You were Arthur's half-sister, and by right of blood, the rightful heir to the throne of Camelot."
Morgana gasped. The revelation struck her with the force of a lightning bolt. She had always felt different, as if a piece of the puzzle of her identity was missing. Now, that piece fell into place, with brutal clarity.
"Why... why was I never told?" she asked, her voice a thread.
"Because it was dangerous," Merlin replied. "Uther was dead, Arthur was crowned, and the nobility of Camelot would not have accepted a woman, much less a sorceress, as their queen. There would have been war, chaos, destruction."
Merlin explained that he and Uther, before his death, had agreed on a plan. Arthur, raised in secret by Merlin, would be presented as the rightful heir, while Morgana would be protected, hidden, until the right time arrived.
"But that time never came," Merlin said sadly. "Ambition, the thirst for power, consumed us both, Morgana. We were driven by dark magic, by the promises of the Keys of Solomon."
Merlin then recounted how he and Morgana had experimented with forbidden rituals, how they had attempted to control forces beyond their understanding. How, in their arrogance, they had unleashed a darkness that threatened to destroy Camelot.
"That was when I created the vampires," Merlin said, his voice filled with remorse. "A desperate act, an extreme solution to a problem of our own making."
Dracula, who had remained silent until that moment, intervened.
"Merlin chose me," the vampire said, his voice deep and resonant. "I was a warrior, a leader, a man of honor. But the transformation… was brutal. It turned me into something… different. Something dark."
Dracula recounted how the first vampires, despite their good intentions, had been unable to control their thirst for blood. How they had become monsters, predators, a threat to the very people they had sworn to protect.
"It was then that I developed the Punishers' code," Dracula said. "A way to control our nature, to channel our thirst toward a noble purpose. A form of redemption."
But the damage had been done. Camelot had descended into chaos, and the relationship between Merlin and Morgana had deteriorated, consumed by guilt and resentment.
"And then," Merlin said, turning his attention to Morgana, "the moment of final decision came. Arthur must be king. Camelot needed a strong leader, a symbol of hope. And you, Morgana, with your power and your… instability… were a danger."
Merlin recounted how he had used the magic of the Clavicles to create the trial of the sword in the stone.
"It wasn't Excalibur that chose Arthur," Merlin said. "It was me. I manipulated the magic, created an illusion, so that only Arthur could draw the sword. It was the only way to ensure his legitimacy, to unite the kingdom."
"Excalibur was given to Arthur by the Lady of the Lake, a created illusion, and a deal was made. Arthur was to marry Guinevere, but he loved only you, Morgana."
Morgana listened, her face pale, her hands clenched into fists. The truth was like poison, corroding her soul.
"And then," Merlin continued, his voice shaking, "I erased your memory. With Dracula's help, I removed all your memories of Camelot, of your lineage, of your magic, of… our love."
"I did it to protect you," Merlin said desperately. "To protect you from yourself, and to protect Camelot. I believed it was for the best, that it would give you a chance at a normal life, a happy life."
Morgana staggered up from her seat. "Happy?" she asked with a bitter laugh. "Do you think I've been happy, Merlin? I've lived my whole life with an emptiness inside me, with a sense of loss, of something missing. And now, I discover that you… you stole my life, my identity, my destiny."
She turned to Dracula, her eyes wide with fury. "And you… you were complicit in this crime. You, who call yourself
A Punisher, a protector of the innocent."
Dracula was unfazed by her anger. "I did what I had to do, Morgana," he said. "For the good of Camelot, and for your own good."
Morgana put her hands to her head, feeling her mind cracking. Memories, fragmented and confused, began to return, colliding with her current reality, creating a whirlwind of emotions.
"No... it can't be," she whispered. "All of this... it's too much."
Suddenly, Morgana felt a surge of energy, a dark and familiar energy, welling up from deep within her. Magic, her original magic, the magic Merlin had tried to suppress, was awakening.
But it wasn't the pure magic of the Moon Elves, nor the ordered magic of Umbra. It was a chaotic, twisted magic, similar to Eleonora's, but with a different tinge, a tinge of... Royalty.
Morgana looked at Merlin and Dracula, a new light in her eyes. A cold, calculating light, filled with a power that terrified and intoxicated her at the same time.
"Now I understand everything," she said, her voice transformed, deeper, more resonant. "I understand why you chose me, Merlin. It wasn't just for my power, it was for my blood. The blood of kings. The blood that could legitimize your plan."
"And I understand why you erased my memory," she continued. "Because you were afraid. Afraid of my power, afraid of my ambition, afraid that I would claim what was rightfully mine."
Morgana stood tall, with a regal dignity that surprised everyone present.
"But you were wrong, Merlin," she said. "You cannot erase the past. You cannot suppress the truth. And you cannot control destiny."
"I am Morgana Le Fay," she declared, her voice echoing in the secret chamber. "Daughter of Igraine and Uther Pendragon. Rightful heir to Camelot. And I will reclaim my throne."
"Though Camelot be no more, I will reclaim my place, and all of you will kneel before me."
With those words, Morgana's transformation was complete. The darkness that had lain dormant within her, the darkness Merlin had tried to suppress, had emerged, claiming its place.
The final battle was drawing near, but now, a new contender had entered the game. A contender with ancient power, unbridled ambition, and a thirst for revenge that would shake the foundations of the world. Light and darkness prepared to clash, but in their midst, a new force, born of betrayal and deceit, rose, ready to claim its place in history.