He was quiet for a long moment. Then his expression shifted—something softened. Something paternal. Something that, maddeningly, I wanted to believe to be true.
“I want what any father wants for his daughter: for you to fulfill your potential, to become the woman you were meant to be.”
“And if that womanisn’tyour obedient agent?” I asked, my voice rising with this new fire stirring inside me. “What if I don’t chooseyourpath?"
"Arthur is a tyrant," he began, but I interrupted him.
"What if I don't choose Arthur’s path either? What if I choose my own way—a path of my own making?”
A glimmer sparked in Merlin’s eyes—something unexpected. Something that looked strangely like… pride.
“Then you would truly be my daughter." His voice dipped, softer now.
The water between us shimmered again, the mirror’s edges flickering as our connection began to fade. Soon it faded away entirely, and I sat there, alone once more in my stone chamber, surrounded by the lingering quiet.
The magic was gone.
But the truth remained.
I was no longer just a dairymaid with accidental magic. No longer only Sir Lioran, hiding behind armor and charm.
I was Guinevere—daughter of Merlin and the Lady of the Lake. Born between realms. Raised in secrets. Caught between two great men who had once been brothers and now stood as rivals.
What did it mean to be Merlin’s child in this twisted game?
Each revelation shifted the ground beneath me, warping my understanding of who I was and what role I was meant to play. It felt like walking a high wire strung over an abyss—every step a gamble, every misstep a potential plummet. My mission to infiltrate Camelot seemed small now, petty even, when weighed against the scope of my bloodline.
Was I meant to spy for Merlin or to protect Arthur? Or was it the other way around? Was Arthur in the wrong and Merlin in the right, as I'd originally assumed? Merlin or Arthur? Did I even have the luxury of choosing?
I pressed my palms against my thighs, grounding myself against the storm rising inside me. A bridge between worlds—that’s what I'd become. Not merely a blade in someone else’s hand, but something far more dangerous: a fulcrum. A force that could tip the scales either way or break them altogether.
The ache in my chest sharpened as memories stirred—Arthur’s laughter, his fierce loyalty to doing what he saw as right, his unshakable ideals, his goodness to Lance. All those things stood in stark contrast to Merlin’s quiet calculation, his hidden fears wrapped in riddles. I could almost hear their voices now, not as enemies, but as old friends speaking across time—laughter laced with regret, arguments frayed with love. How could I hold both legacies within me without tearing myself apart?
What if this wasn’t a gift, but a curse?
The choice stretched before me—I could either embrace this lineage—with all its burdens and expectations—or let it drag me under, a tide too strong to fight alone.
As the moonlight continued to spill through my window, I felt the full weight of the night settling into my bones. The world outside remained veiled in shadow, but within me, something had shifted. A spark. A fragile but defiant resolve.
I would no longer be a vessel for someone else’s will. Not Merlin’s weapon. Not Arthur’s champion. Not a daughter, not a knight, not a spy.
From this moment on, I would forge my own path.
Every decision I made would bemine—not dictated by destiny, legacy, or the desires of the men who had built kingdoms on secrets. I would walk the line between light and shadow with my eyes open, guided bymytruth, not theirs.
The thought washed over me like cool water, steadying and sharp.
My gaze drifted back to the basin, its surface still faintly shimmering from the spell I’d cast to reach Merlin. The reflection that stared back was mine—but not quite. It bore traces of two worlds—twilight and sunlight—woven together in skin and bone. Magic hummed beneath the surface, not just in my blood but in my soul.
And I knew now, more than ever: I wasn’t here to carry out someone else’s legacy. I was here to claim my own.
-KAY-
She was powerful.
Too skilled with magic to be a common hedge witch. Her watercraft during the trials thus far was flawless—refined. Professional.
The question was: why was she here?
