"Don't call me Anna!" Isidora snapped, planting her hands on her ghostly hips. "Morganna was my name a thousand years ago. I believe I have already told you my name, Vee— do not make me repeat it."
The Sword of the Lake, its blade planted firmly in the ground, trembled violently as it threatened to shake loose. Oleandra clung to its hilt for dear life as the orb ahead pulsed with ever-increasing frequency.
"Isidora Morganach, was it?" Oleandra said, swallowing her fear and grinning. "But you're the one who called me Vee first, didn't you?"
The telluric currents spilling from the orb were so intense that Oleandra felt as if she were underwater, swept along by the strongest riptide she had ever encountered. She was completely horizontal now, making it appear as though she were flying down the corridor towards the orb… except, slowly, and in the wrong direction.
"Because that's the last name I knew you by, Sister dearest," Isidora's phantom said haughtily. "The you I loved the most… and the one I hated the most."
A few fragmented memories bubbled up from Oleandra's subconscious.
"Oh, come now," Oleandra said. "Don't tell me you're still upset about that? That's ancient history!"
Isidora's pale, ghostly form slowly began turning crimson.
"Ywain, the Knight of the Lion; Gawain, the Knight of the Sun; Agravain of the Hard Hand; Gaheris and Gareth of the Beautiful Hands; and Mordred, the Traitorous Knight!" Oleandra recited. "You blamed Viviane for your sons' deaths, and you killed her for it… but you have only yourself to blame!"
The Sword of the Lake was nearly free.
If Oleandra slipped, the orb would hurl her back the way she had come… and then it would explode, shattering Hogwarts' foundations and sending the entire castle crumbling down upon her head. The only silver lining was that the explosion would leave her too dead to suffer the agony of being buried alive under millions of tons of bedrock.
"Those were her children! Morganna's! Not mine!" Isidora hissed. "You turned the first five against me… against her…! You forced me to sleep with that hateful man to produce a curse strong enough to overcome Excalibur's protective magic! You betrayed and killed me, the four of you! "Your son Lancelot slaughtered my sons, one after the other!"
Isidora was beginning to confuse her memories for Morgan le Fay's.
"You should be proud that your children joined King Arthur in Camelot!" Oleandra said defiantly. "They fought for and believed in something greater than themselves! Britannia's future could have been limitless, had you not been too petty to accept that Arthur Pendragon— the son of the man who ruined your make-believe happy family— was the one who could have saved us all, Avalon included!"
Oleandra's stomach did a backflip as the Sword of the Lake lurched free by ten inches all at once.
"NOBODY FORCED YOU TO SLEEP WITH YOUR OWN HALF-BROTHER!" Oleandra screamed. "GIVING HIM THAT SWORD WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OUR ONLY MISSION, REMEMBER!?"
The Sword of the Lake wailed as it slipped free from the stone in a shower of sparks…
"My Lord Husband… but… I never married? But I was the Queen of Orkney," Isidora murmured dizzily. "I cheated on him… no, she cheated… Mordred, my beautiful son… I loved him… She hated him… Mordred looked so much like his father, Arthur…"
However this phantom living inside the orb had come to be, it was clearly unable to process a millennia's worth of emotions. That was all it was: the mere echoes of a life steeped in tragedy, betrayal, and anger, trapped in a cycle of grief and kept alive by magic…
Oleandra's eyes narrowed. Isidora was distracted; it was now or never.
"Tinne!" Oleandra chanted.
Holly's rune, the tree whose flowers bloomed in July and banished Faeries and evil spirits!
"No, you tricked me!" roared Isidora, her form flickering and wavering. "I can't leave the repository to you— anybody but you! I have to take away everyone's pain! Then no one will have to suffer as I did!"
"I don't hate humans, Isidora. If I've come this far, it's because I care for them," Oleandra said quietly. "Now please, let me through. Don't you see the repository is about to shatter? If it detonates, it will take the castle and all the students with it."
Isidora's eyes widened in shock, for she knew Oleandra was telling the truth. Her crimson form began to fade rapidly, and the flow of telluric energy stemmed, allowing Oleandra to plant her feet on firm ground at last.
"Beware the Keepers, Sister…" she whispered, as her figure became so faint she could hardly be seen. "They betrayed and murdered me, their only disciple…"
Oleandra nodded. Planting her sword in the ground with each step she took, she slowly began covering the ground she had lost… and moving past it.
Five metres…
Four…
She could feel the heat radiating from the Goblin silver-wrought orb in waves…
Three…
Suit the Lethifold covered her entire body, shielding her from the heat…
Two…
Oleandra wished she had brought an Ice Potion.
One…
"Beth!" Oleandra chanted, stretching out her hand outwards.
The Ogham version of Berkana the birch rune; the first tree to recover its leaves in spring. The rune of new beginnings, according to Dumbledore…
The red-hot orb was instantly enveloped in a milky-white glow. The fissures scarring the alien-looking structure receded rapidly, and after a few seconds, the telluric energy contained within the repository ceased leaking out… but Oleandra could still feel it inside. She was its master, for as long as she remained aligned with Hogwarts.
Now, all she had to do was fly out of this cavern and back into the Map Chamber, and confront the Keepers…
Oleandra cast one last glance behind her as she walked up to the fissure in the ceiling she had flown down from, and she sighed. Isidora Morganach, and all of Morgan le Fay's incarnations… it was clear that they cared for humans very much… perhaps too much.
Once upon a time, King Arthur's father, Uther Pendragon, had enlisted Merlin's aid to Transfigure himself into his enemy, allowing him to sleep with his wife, Igraine… and it was from this evil act that Arthur, the Child of Prophecy, was conceived— just as Merlin had always intended.
But this act shattered the family into which Morgan le Fay had reincarnated, stealing the warmth, love, and affection she had always yearned for; for as the holder of the Authority of Variance, she had never fit in with the other Great Fairies of Avalon— cruel and capricious monsters beyond humanity's understanding.
Morgan never let go of her grievance, so she Transfigured herself into Guinevere, Arthur's wife, in order to bear the child prophesied to bring down Arthur and everything he had achieved, thus completing her vengeance and continuing the cycle of hatred…
…but, thanks to her Authority of Variance, Morgan le Fay ensured that her incarnations would never differ greatly from herself, and would therefore never forget her grudge against Viviane, Arthur, and Merlin. As long as Viviane's incarnations lived, Morgan's vengeance would never be complete— judging by the obsession Oleandra had witnessed in Isidora's desperate search for her.
To Oleandra, it was clear that Mai Dulac was trapped in the same cycle of grief and vengeance that had plagued her past incarnations, and in that moment, Oleandra couldn't help but recall a portion of Merlin's Dark Lady prophecy:
SIBLINGS SHALL FIGHT TO THE DEATH…!
Oleandra had once thought this passage from Merlin's prophecy concerned only herself and Daphne… but she had changed her mind after witnessing Ragnarök's prophecy unfold firsthand.
Odin's fatal mistake was to entrench himself in judgment, refusing to see anything but black and white. He had deemed the Greater Fairies his enemy— and was inadvertently destroyed by attempting to possess Oleandra, who would never have become a valid target for possession had he not destroyed Avalon, forcing her incarnations to take human form on Earth.
The narrower one's mindset, the more certain the future she sought to avoid would come to pass.
"The cycle ends with us," Oleandra said with determination. "I won't let Mai kill me again, and I won't kill Daphne, either. We'll find another way…!"