We Choose

Cause my echo, echo
Is the only voice coming back
Shadow, shadow
Is the only friend that I have...

"But how can there be two Guineveres?" Clara said stupidly, backing away from Morgan, Flynn backing away from them both in turn.

"There was only ever one," Morgan said impatiently, stepping in front of Cassandra, "and she is you, or you are her. Guinevere still slumbers within you, waiting to wake up once more."

"But how do you know all this!?" Clara demanded, the tears springing to her eyes, feeling like her sky was falling, dimly realising it had fallen a long time ago.

"When I was in the Beyond, I caught glimpses of other futures, whispers of other lives," Morgan said quietly as Lamia retreated back to the shadows, awaiting Cassandra's next order, "and I saw flashes of your face, the memory haunting me like a ghost. But I thought you were just another dream denied, an illusion to ignore, and I tried to deny you, even now, when you are right in front of me. To admit your existence would end all that I hold dear" -

- "But in this world, your world, there was another Clara in existence," Clara argued, angrily dashing away a tear, "maybe she was the Guinevere you saw. I'm Clara Hartley, nobody else!"

"That Clara was nothing but an echo," Morgan said slowly, "like me, like Cassandra, even like your friend here," she said, glancing at Flynn, who paled, pulling out his inhaler. "This whole world is nothing but a series of reflections, like ripples on a lake bleeding into one another," she continued, circling Clara, "but reality is grievously wounded, and I fear you're the only one who can heal it. But it will require a sacrifice on your part, one which I'm not sure you'll be able to make."

"How do you know I won't be able to?" Clara challenged, clenching her fists.

"Because you're been running from what you are for a long time now," Morgan said, slowing to a stop, "and whoever cast the Benediction spell upon you knew this, that you weren't strong enough" -

- "I'm strong enough now," Clara said from between gritted teeth, "so do it, do whatever you have to do." Flynn started towards her, almost like he was going to grab her, but Clara halted him with her hand, her jaw set. "I have to do this on my own," she said quietly, making him fall back, eyes anxious behind his glasses.

"You've already done this," Morgan said, confusing Clara, "you already know. But you were forced to forget even as you were forced to remember. It's the willingness to remember without having the mercy of forgetting that is the sacrifice. It has to be your choice."

"We choose," Clara said as though from another life.

"And do you choose, Clara Hartley?"

"I choose."

Morgana raised her hands, Clara tensing up, already starting to remember, recalling how this felt, how loud everything was as the world rushed at her like the oncoming tide, the painful pressure of the past threatening to overwhelm the present. But she felt nothing except a faint touch tracing the surface of her soul, and then she remembered, the pieces of the puzzle that was her finally falling into place. There was no rebellion, no tears, no anger, no denial; only a dull acceptance, making Clara take a step back, unconsciously squaring her shoulders against the burden she now bore.

"The battle has now begun," Morgan said brokenly, lowering her hands to her sides as the floor started to shake beneath their feet, the ceiling spewing dust, "but you must not lose the war, for there is a world to win."