InsaneJournal

Mordred knocked on the door of Morgause's apartment, before cautiously trying the handle. Normally, he checked with Morgause before he turned up at her home, just a quick question sent straight into her head to make sure it was alright for him to be there. Not that she ever said no, but he knew that that was the polite thing to do. And he felt a little guilty about just walking into her rooms now, but he didn't know what else to do.

Mordred hadn't said a word since yesterday morning, when he had woken up and felt the huge, gaping hole in his chest where his magic had been torn away. He hadn't known what to do, and it had hurt, not having it there. So he'd curled up under his blue duvet with the stars on for most of the morning, and then had refused to leave Morgana's side until it was time for bed again. Every moment hurt, and he'd never felt so completely and utterly lost as he did now. Mordred's magic was powerful, and more a part of him than anything else he could think of. It had been what made him him, what had defined him. And now he didn't have it and he wasn't anything any more.

Mordred stepped silently into Morgause's main room, finding the blonde sorceress (ex-sorceress) sat on one of the sofa's. Without a word, the skinny nine year old padded over to her, slipped into the space beside his aunt and curled his bony little body up against hers, hoping for a thread of comfort from someone who understood.