“Why are you here?” she faced Kayle, as if having anticipated her.
“This isn't right, Morgana. Your people will die in vain.” As she took breath to continue, Morgana cut her off.
“I somehow doubt you’d find the deaths of us _unjust _ to be a burden on your soul. Speak the truth.”
“Very well,” Kayle sighed. “If your people fall, they will become fuel for Noxus. There is a weapon, the Blood P-“
“Yes,” Morgana interrupted. “The Blood Plague. I am aware sister. You fear the blood of the fallen will be used to enhance it.”
“So you’d willingly allow it, Morgana? Why?”
Morgana stayed silent.
Regardless how different they were, or how unjust she thought Morgana was, Kayle never questioned her intellect. “You want them to expend the Blood Plague on you…”
“… or at least damage the weaponry,” Morgana continued. “It took years to gather the power and resources for it. They’re arrogant, anticipating Demacia to fall in one short burst of a weapon, death on a massive scale. The majority of their armies now consists of alchemists. If we can force them to expend even a part of it, it will make Demacia that much likely to resist in the future.”
“Morgana, this is madness! You have barely a few hundred people. Even with spells and illusions, what do you hope to achieve against an entire Noxian army?”
“The odds are against us, you are right. But we have our tactics. Still, our numbers are indeed limited. Boosting the numbers would raise our chances…”
“Don’t look to me for aid. I will not waste the lives of Demacian soldiers on some suicide mission! Demacia is lead by the just, and the just will defend Demacia with honor and—”
“Noxus cares little for justice or the pure souls of your soldiers, or mine. For there to be a conflict between your kind and mine within the Demacian kingdom, sister, there first must be a Demacian kingdom. You would rather have it fall than fight by my side?”
“Justice always prevails. If Demacia’s fate is to fall, then so it shall be, regardless of who defends it. And if the only hope for Demacia lies in the hands of betrayers, then it deserves to fall!”
“…then so it shall be.” Morgana sighed, no overly surprised.
“Morgana, I urge you to leave this be, lest you only tip the war into the favour of the enemy. If you truly wish to help, you can do so once the conflict is over, and help rebuild.”
Morgana turned, and couldn't help a smile escape her lips. If her chuckle did reach Kayle, she didn't notice, being distracted by the sight of Morgana’s shackled wings on the ground.
“Indeed. And once we’re done rebuilding, we can go back to the way everything was… No, sister. If you choose to observe the world through the crack in your helmet, you are bound to miss the greater picture.”
Morgana turned to face her sister, with a sight of disappointment.
“You’ve said what you came here to say,” and with finality added, “begone.”
Kayle left into the night, the sound of her wings echoing the encampment of Morgana’s troupes. The following days were spent in preparation, and Morgana didn’t think much of her sister—a task she had gotten used to many years prior.
Ultimately, when the time came to face the enemy, awaiting them in the path they were certain to cross, all who stood by her side knew there was no tomorrow waiting for them, and they were at peace if it meant giving their homeland a chance.
Observing the enemy march toward them, Morgana’s barriers faltered, and she couldn't control her thoughts. Here, at life’s end, despite the betrayal and the still-burning scar across her heart, she wished for the only family she had left to be by her side. The enemy approached into sight, and that scar burned stronger, as she knew that within minutes, it won’t feel a thing anymore.
She soon realized why this was so… her soul, as well as her ears, responding to the sound of seraphim wings cutting the air. Turning, she saw a creature shining almost stronger than the sun above them, flying at the front of a winged army. The leader charged with a turbulent scream.
Not a soul was left uninspired.
“FOR DEMACIA!” Kayle’s voice echoed the battlefield, as if a chorus of voices screamed with her, igniting every warrior’s heart with fervour, Morgana included.
If this was to be the end, she thought, let it be with her entire being charging forward. The shackles broke almost effortlessly as her black wings expanded, and she burst into the air.
With two armies charging as one, lead by contrasting leaders, it was no shock to observe the sky fill with a blood red vapour. The Blood Plague moving towards them at a massive scale was a bittersweet victory. Regardless of the impending doom, Morgana and Kayle merely glanced at one another, and still they charged forward, showing no fear before the incoming death. As they flew side by side, inspired by her sister’s wings, Kayle removed her helmet and let it fall to the ground below.
The shroud of red engulfed the sky before them now, and they merely hoped the next moment would be painless. And indeed it was, yet it turns out the Lamb and Wolf likely felt frustrated that day…
The crimson sky above them began to distort, as if the sun itself chose to act. Morgana glanced at her sister, only to learn she too was confused. As the light burned through the red veil, the Blood Plague appeared to all but evaporate.
Morgana’s eyes teared up briefly at the realization.
“Mother…” she whispered.
With their enemy stripped of their main weapon, she gathered herself. This time, it was Morgana who charged, realizing there might just be a tomorrow waiting after all.