"I could have been magnificent."

It's a simple, quiet statement. Morgana's voice is low and slightly hoarse in the silent world. Merlin looks at her, because there's nowhere else to look. They are standing in a bright meadow, filled with buttercups and daisies. The sky is high and a brilliant azure shade. A gust of wind shifts her crimson cloak, but there is no sound. No birds, no fluttering of grass or leaves. Just her voice. Echoing, hitting every painful, soft spot in his body.

"I would have been", she corrects herself. Her face is a complicated blend of reminiscence, grief and bemusement. Merlin wants to say something, doesn't find the words from his head. Can't move his tongue. So she continues her monologue unchallenged.

"You could have told me, what was happening. You could have explained why everyone around me was collapsing. We could've tried something else. I could've just left. Maybe the curse would have left with me. Or, at least if nothing else, I could've taken the Hemlock willingly. Morgause would've still come. She would've still saved me. And I wouldn't have died in fear."

"But you didn't die", Merlin manages to force out, "You said it yourself; she saved you."

Morgana's laugh is more painful to hear than her sorrowful words. Her striking face contorts to a pitying, sarcastic smile that he has seen her use with Arthur in real life. But now there's a new trace to it. An unnerving shade of malice.

"Poor Merlin. Do you still dare to hope that the woman you knew exists? Are you truly naïve enough to think, that I could survive your betrayal and still be the same person?"

Again, Merlin finds himself unable to say anything. There is a distant knowledge that none of this is real. None of this is actually happening. He's dreaming. But it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. It's like her every word is a new kind of weapon, only created to tear him apart. to make him aware of how much he had failed with her. To leave the same invisible, permanent wounds his actions left in her. He closes his eyes and only waits for Morgana to speak again. Maybe he deserves this, after all.

Suddenly they are no longer in the meadow. Merlin opens his eyes and sees a familiar room. One burnt in his memories. One he's been avoiding since she left. Morgana, however, isn't afraid. She glides over to the window, leaning her back to it and gesturing casually, as if to present the room where she nearly died. He has to think nearly, because it makes all the difference now. I didn't kill her, he keeps chanting silently.

"Important memories here, don't you think? Ones that really taught us something about ourselves." He's not sure, why she does this. Why is it that she's in his head, taunting and teasing. Mocking relentlessly.

"I did what I believed was right!" he finally snaps loudly, not able to think clearly anymore. Now it's his voice echoing. Surely, surely he can make her understand. Make her leave him alone. "Yes, it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. But I did the right thing. One life in exchange for so many more? How can that be wrong?"

And his words only get a mildly amused smile from her. She takes a few languid steps away from the window, towards him. Crosses her arms and leans forward, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Smiling, like she's sharing a secret with him.

"I don't know. This is your head we're in."

Merlin is too confused to even try to understand the meaning behind her words. He only shakes his head, suddenly exhausted. Sitting down on a bench, he waves a tired hand at her direction. It's all too much. He's already gone weeks blaming himself, grieving for her loss, trying to come up with alternatives. But none of it will bring her back for real, in flesh and blood. And it hurts so much.

"Just leave, please. I don't want to hear this. Apparently it's no use anymore. You're gone and it's all over. Just go and stop taunting me."

"Again, Merlin, it's not me who's dreaming this. You're the one making me stay", the memory of Morgana points out, sitting next to him on the bench. The malice and anger in her voice have suddenly disappeared. Now she just sounds like the woman he knew. And that's probably even worse. She takes his left hand gently and draws his eyes up to her own.

"If things had gone differently", she begins softly, but with an omniscient tone, "we would've become the best of friends. The greatest of allies. Combined with Arthur and his destiny to rule a great kingdom, we would've brought peace and prosperity to the whole of Albion. Avalon on Earth, Merlin. You would've taught me everything. And I would've been the one thing you will now never have. An equal. Kin."

Her words flow out effortlessly. She paints a picture of a paradise, now lost in the infinite realm of possibilities. Merlin can't help but listen as she maps out their joint, dreamlike world. What a short moment ago was a nightmare, has now turned into a fantasy where everything he's ever hoped or wished has come to reality.

Just like that she gets up and turns to face him for the last time. He's not sure how he knows it, but it's definitely a farewell. The closure they'll never get in reality.

"Everything is going to be different from now on and it truly is a shame. So this is goodbye, friend. The light part of me has died and there are so many things I will now do. You'll blame yourself for them and perhaps you should. Like I said, I could have been magnificent."

Morgana disappears. Not in a gust of wind or a flash of light, but in a simple blink of an eye. Merlin is left there, alone, a gentle whisper escaping his parted lips.

"You were."