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Humankind

Summary:

My name means 'phantom queen' in the old tongue.
I was a ghost from the moment I was born.
I was an outcast from the moment I was born.

The history of the Nabateans, as seen through the eyes of a prodigal daughter.

Notes:

Once again writing at sometime past midnight. I wanted to write about the Nabateans and how they interacted with humanity through the eyes of an outcast, or an outsider. I also wanted an excuse to write bad poetry. Enjoy, or not, I guess.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

My name is Morrigan.
I am not human. I am not Nabatean.
I am one they call 'dragon'.
I am the bringer of death, the keeper of lost souls, she who stands at the crossroads.
I see many things. I hear many things. I know many things.

I do not know the span of my days.
No being does.
Whether they be dragon or human, young or old.
We fear that which we do not know.
We fear death.

My name means 'phantom queen' in the old tongue.
I was a ghost from the moment I was born.
I was an outcast from the moment I was born.

My mother. Medb.
My first memory.
Emerald blood.
I am covered in it.
I am cold. I am scared.
My mother's breath ceases as mine begins.
My lungs swell with air as hers still.
I scream. She is silent.

My father. Lugh.
My second memory.
Translucent tears.
His eyes water.
His face is drawn.
His sobs mingle with my cries.
We mourn, though I do not understand.
I will not understand until years later.

My father is distant.
My mother is dead.
I am alone.

Some believe me to be a bad omen.
That my very existence is cursed.
They are whispering behind my back.
Cast her out.
Drown her.
Kill her.
They surround me. I am but a babe.
My father regards me with pity and sadness.
His head will roll next to mine if he does not surrender me.

enough.

My grandmother. Sothis.
Matriarch. Respected. Wise. Beloved.
They part before her.
She is majestic.
Emerald hair flows down her back.
Golden baubles adorn her limbs.
A diadem rests on her brow.

The humans call her Goddess.
I can see why.

Her hand is cool and soothing.
She takes me from my father's arms.
no daughter or son of mine shall harm this one.
she is one of us. her mother's blood is not upon her head.
shame on you.
She chastises them. Her words cow them.
They cut like knives.

Under her wing, I grow.
She teaches me much.
How the world spins in the endless void.
How the stars form patterns in the sky.
How our hearts beat within our chests.
Pulsing power through our veins.

I sit and listen. My ears are open. My eyes are wide.

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************

There is war.
Indech lets me watch him at his forge.
Swords. Shields. Axes. Bows.
They take shape from glowing metal.
They are formed like magic in my grandmother's hands.
each is a potter. each has their own clay.
He tells me this many times.
I may shape the world as I please.
I simply have to find my own clay.

There are battles.
Macuil allows my presence as he studies a map.
Pretty figures and pins adorn the paper.
I try to grasp, to touch.
He swats my hand away.
not all that is alluring is good.
He tells me this by way of explanation.
I pout and grab a pin.
It pricks me. Pain shoots through my thumb.

There is danger.
A human, within the walls of Nabatea.
He raises a weapon.
I scream a piercing shrill.
Cichol comes running, spear in hand.
be cautious. be on your guard, always.
He states this bluntly.
He cleans rubies off his spear.
Their blood is different than mine.

There are wounds.
Dear sister. So sweet and kind.
They don't like me near her.
They say I would bring her harm.
She comes to me instead.
it's okay, sister. all wounds heal with time.
Light blossoms from Cethleann's hands.
The cut on my hand knits together.
I hug her tight. I will never let her go.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Seiros is jealous.

why does Mother dote on you so?
all you do is bring death!

Seiros doesn't mean what she says.
I can see it in her eyes.
Firstborn. First loved.
She feels as if she is alone.

I ask Indech for a favor.

Day by day, hour by hour.
I piece it together.
I weave the spell to enchant the lilies.
I thread the beads upon fine string.
I shape the gold into a crescent moon.

A peace offering.
There are tears in her eyes as she sees it.
The headdress is beautiful.
I am proud.

Seiros is willing to share Grandmother with me.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Grandmother cries.

The land is desolate.
The rivers do not flow.
The forests are bare.
The air is filled with smoke.

Humankind has destroyed themselves.
Javelins of light pierced the sky.
We have won, but what have we won?
A land of torment and ruin.

She allows me to be by her side.
Her magics flow like mighty waterfalls.
The burned ground heals.
The broken cities are gone.
Sothis smiles.
we are whole, my child.

Humankind has saved themselves.
They huddle underground in darkened caves.
Grandmother extends a hand.
come, my children
we can begin again

She forgives them.
After all that she is merciful.
Some call for their death.

But she chooses to live and let go.

Some of them stay behind.
Their faces are twisted.
Their eyes glare sharply.
They hate me. They hate her.
we will never submit to your tyranny, foul beast!
They lock themselves away.

The rest of them, they begin again.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Grandmother is tired.

all power has a price, dear child.
She is worn. The toll has been exacted.
She must sleep now, for years upon years.
do not worry. do not cry.
i will come back to you.

Her hand dries my tears.
I hold onto her as tight as I can.
Still she slips away.

Her eyes flutter shut.
Her chest rises and falls.
I watch her. I am by her side.
I will be there when she wakes up.
I swear it.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************

the sword.
it pierces her chest.
emerald blood spills down her dress.

the man has hatred in his eyes.
he has hatred in his heart.
he is angry.

I am a coward.
I should have saved her.
I should have fought them off.
I should have died instead.

I swore I would be there when she woke up.

The words swirl around my head.
They blame me.
I was there.
I wasn't enough.

If she was here, she would comfort me.
She would tell me that I am enough.
I am not to blame.
This I know.
But she is not here.
I am, instead.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************

The man holds her within his hands.
She died by the sword.
She is the sword.
Her bones are come back to haunt me.

He and his people have hate in their eyes.
They have hate in their hearts.
They have slaughter and bloodshed in their minds.

My family.
They are flawed.
They are small-minded.
They make mistakes.

But they do not deserve death.

In the end they decide that I do not, either.
go! go, Morrigan! tell seiros! tell anyone!
They shield me with their bodies.
I am scared. I wish I had wings to fly.
Far, far away from here.

There is a great upwelling within my heart.
My fingers to talons.
My skin to scales.
My hair to feathers.
Beautiful, ebony-winged.

Black wings, carry me away from here.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************

I am the harbinger of death.
I am the caller of lost souls.
I am she who stands at the crossroads.

I am the one who calls them home.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Stern Cichol. Kind Cethleann. Wise Macuil. Clever Indech.

Seiros. Firstborn. First loved.

Emerald blood soaks the floor.
Emerald blood seeps into the ground.
Emerald blood stains their bodies.

The tang of metal is in my throat.
The streets are empty.
The halls are deserted.
The young and old alike.
They will never speak again.

Father. Lugh.

My mother is dead.
My father is dead.
My grandmother is dead.
I am alone.

I am numb.

Seiros screams.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************
I take wing as soon as I can.

I soar over the vast, wide sea.
I weave between the trees of the forest.
I swoop into the vast labyrinth of caves.
I rise above the mountain clouds.

I see humanity.
I see the cities they build, the statues they raise.
Nothing but their hands and their minds.
They laugh, they cry.
They grow old and wither and die.
I am young and fair for many years.
And yet, besides the weight of their time.
They live while they can.
As much as they can.

I fly far.
Maybe I can leave it behind.

Something tugs at me.
Something pulls me back.

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************************
There is war.

The man calls himself Nemesis.
King of Liberation.

The Sword of the Creator.
At least he honors Grandmother in this small way.

They made weapons from our bones, from our hearts, from our blood.

Father. Lugh.
They call his blood the Crest of Blaiddyd.
They call his bones Areadbhar.
One of Nemesis' beloved wields him now.

The others, they feel shame and anger.
how dare they desecrate our siblings! our mother!

I feel nothing.
It is a travesty, yes.
But they are gone, gone away.
Past the Blue Sea Star, to live with Grandmother.
She will surely take care of them.
They no longer need their bodies.
They are but shells, empty husks.

I will honor the dead by protecting the living.
I explain this to them when they ask.
They are astonished.
They talk amongst themselves.
she is but a girl. she doesn't understand.
one day she will understand.
Little do they know.
I understand more than they ever will.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

There is nothing behind Seiros' eyes.
Nothing but hatred and fury.
They are glassy mirrors of the world outside.
She is but an automaton.
Like the golems that guarded our home.

I am with her when she fights.

They tell me to call upon the spark within my heart.
They say I possess the same magics Grandmother did.
I only need reach for them.

An orb.
Dark purple and black.
Pulsing like a beating heart.
It explodes once it touches the enemy.
He falls, writhing.

They ask me where I learned such things.
They tell me it is called dark magic.
Forbidden. Taboo. Outcast.

I am simply reaching into my heart.
Like they asked.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Nemesis.
Seiros.
Their armies stand before one another.
This time, we will not surrender.

White wings tear their mages asunder.
Sharp swords cut their brigands down.
I speak words of power and their champions stagger.
Caught in my hold.

Blaiddyd. Areadbhar.
Glowing spear of my father.
He closes his eyes as the mire swallows him whole.

I open mine to see the dagger.
Plunged deep into Nemesis' chest.
His dark heart ceases beating.
His breath comes no more.

Seiros is victorious.
She rises with the mighty sun.
She clutches the sword close, her own cast aside.
mother.

I wish I could make her understand:
That is Grandmother no more.
Any more than the spear I hold is Father.
But I hold my sharp tongue.
I let her grieve.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************
I do not understand.

They are in our grasp.
End them and we end the war.

Yet Seiros allows them freedom.
She lets them go.

Blaiddyd.
There is no remorse in his eyes.
Not even when he looks at me.

Humankind will abuse these gifts.
They have not the benefit of many years.
They do not know the true source.
They never will, if we do not tell them.
I speak myself freely.
My anger is too great for me to be silent.
If we wish to honor the fallen.
This is not the way!

we shall tell them they are gifts.
power from the Goddess.
they shall hold our kin in the highest regard.

How can she say such things?
Such a blank look on her face.
I reach for the dagger.

Why would they believe you?

She smiles.
because I am her prophet.
I am saint Seiros. bringer of the Goddess' word.
and so are you.
they will never harm us again.
they would never harm divinity.

I scream.
Anger. Rage. Fury.
We are not gods.
We are not immortals.
I did not ask to be deified.

I do not want this power.
I want to live among them.
As preposterous as that sounds.

And yet they go along with her.
we are the four saints.
we trust Seiros.
after all, she led us through the war.
come with us, Morrigan.
you don't have to be alone.

Even as the words leave their lips.
I can see the doubt and fear in their eyes.
They don't trust Seiros.
They're scared of her.
She has humanity wrapped around her finger now.

She thinks she is the sole arbiter of Grandmother's legacy.

I turn and walk away.
The soles of my feet convey my disgust.
Black wings carry me away from there.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Years pass.

They have a book now.
A 'holy scripture'.
And commandments.

Dare not kill, or steal, or harm another.
Unless the Goddess wills it.
Unless Seiros wills it.

Control.
If she controls the power she controls them.
If she controls them they cannot touch us.
That is how her logic goes.

Even so, humankind is flawed.

The nobles are revered. Respected.
They carry the Goddess in their veins.
The commoners are lowly. Dirt.
They have nothing but sluggish humanity.

How many infants have they cast out, crying.
For the crime of not possessing a Crest?
Countless.
How many have been slain.
Over petty territorial squabbles?
Countless.
How many families have been shattered.
Because power is never enough?
Countless.

I walk among them.
I see them.
I know they are capable of more. Of better.
These are the exceptions, not the rule.

I see cities rise.
I see countries formed.
The empire, stretched out like eagles' wings.
The kingdom, huddled in the frozen north.
The alliance, branching and growing, slowly.
I see humanity grow.
I see them laugh and cry and age and die.
Despite it all.

They are still flawed.
As are we.

Of course, Seiros takes this as proof that her rule is needed.
They call her Archbishop now.
Archbishop of the Church of Seiros.
She has a religion.

I have nothing, and am proud of it.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************
They emerge from the dark.
Pale skinned and white haired.
The very sun scorches their faces.
Yet they press on.

I try to warn Seiros.
She goes by Rhea now.
Those who sealed themselves away are back.
They have fury in their hearts.

and what could they do against us?
we are dragons. they are mortals.
they cannot harm us anymore.

I am not worried about what they will do to us.
I am worried about what they will do to humanity.

And yet I still have hope for her.
After all, she still wears my headdress.

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Pale skin, woven with scars.
White hair before her time.
They call her Lysithea.
After a distant moon.

She runs until her feet can carry her no more.
She runs until the breath burns in her lungs.
She runs from herself, from what they did to her.

Twin Crests resound within her blood.
Such a thing is not possible.
Yet here she is.

She stumbles onto my camp.
Wide eyes flicker in the firelight.

who are you? are you with the bad mages?
I smile and spread my wings.
I am the Morrigan.
I am the watcher of lost souls.
Like yourself.

I stay with her.
The fat moon rises, glistening in the night sky.
Extending a claw, I point.
That distant speck is actually a moon.
Your moon, dear one.
She dries her tears and gazes up at me.
And if a tiny speck can be a moon,
Imagine how much you could be.

but I cannot. not anymore.
they say I will die before my time.
they say I only have a couple of years left.
what good is this power if I can't live long enough to use it?

Such burdens on young shoulders.
I will make whoever caused this pay.

Do not worry yourself, dear one.
Death comes for everyone.
For you, for your people, even for me.
Your Goddess waits at the end of your road.
Your siblings wait at the end of your road.
For now, live like you never have before.
Live like tomorrow is your last day.

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************
They have struck again.
The moon-child was but a test.
An experiment.
They have the power.
They never stopped to consider the consequences of using it.

I am the one who slips into their cell.
I am the one who seeks them out.
Darkness and damp.
Vermin, everywhere.
Cold fetters around their feet.

I witness their last breaths.
I cannot save them.
I can only be there.
I swear, upon my heart, they do not die in vain.

I come to the last one.
Twelve years.
The same ragged white hair.
The same weave of scars.

She bears Seiros' blood.
She is kin, however distant.

Her eyes open.
Lavender, fresh from the meadow.
They have fire within them.
She is still defiant.
I want to cry victory to the skies.
They have not yet broken her.

She bears Grandmother's blood.
She is kin.

I am the one who bears her away to her waiting father, her anxious retainer.
I am the one who watches their embrace.
She has lost so much.
She has gained so much.

The world will be consumed in her flames.
I can feel it.
But not in the way they intend.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
There are twenty of them.

Twenty sacrifices.
Twenty vessels.
This is only the latest attempt.

By my heart, Rhea.
Let Grandmother go.
Let her sleep in peace.
Let humankind live out their own days.

I am the one who watches them.
They are cold and distant.
Their heart is still.

And yet, I sense Grandmother's life within them.

By my heart, Rhea.
What have you done?

************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
I take up residence in the Goddess Tower.
In the monastery that houses Grandmother's bones.
And the wide-eyed futures of this land.

This is an auspicious year.
The boar prince. The outsider duke. The imperial flame.
And the heartless one.

A heart cold as ash.
A heart bright as flame.
Which shall prevail?

I watch her machinations from the shadows.
I see the bile rise in her throat.
She despises her allies.
They placed this burden upon her neck.
Now they are surprised when she protests.

I watch them grow from the shadows.
I see their heart begin to stir.
They are fond of their students.
The void in their chest shrinks by the day.
Now they are surprised when it beats.

The sword glows bright within their hands.
The Fell Star shimmers once again.

Things will come to a head soon.
Ashes and flame will collide.
Who will prevail?
Even I cannot say.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
There comes a time when I emerge.

I still have the youth of eighteen suns.
They would scoff if I told them I have had eighteen hundred.
And then some.

The Battle of the Eagle and Lion, they call it.
They reenact the clash of ancestors.
Blood and ash turned to laughter and feasting.
How curious a transformation.

War whoops and battle cries abound.
They whirl wooden axes.
They twirl blunted arrows.
They clash with carved swords.

This is war for the joyful.
War in hopes of peace.

The white haired princess.
Kin of my kin.
Swinging an axe, featherlight.

The ashen one beside her.
A vessel, a hope.
Grandmother's bones are better off in their hands.
Than the stone coffin.

They mount the hill.
Hair streaming in rainbow colors.
Eyes ablaze, cheeks glowing.
They could conquer the world.
If they truly wished it.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
The merriment will last until the sun awakes.
For now, all the candles are lit.
So are the people, but from within.

The tables groan under the weight of the feast.
The silver shines like mercurial fire.
The ale flows, clandestinely.
The bawdy songs and weeping ballads follow.

The room is warm.
The people are warm.
I am warm, for the first time in years.

Yet, she is still so cold.
I can see the porcelain face, the painted smile.
The same fiery heart, underneath.

I follow as she slips away.
In the shadows, where she is safe.
Where crystalline tears slip from her eyes.
No one can see the empress cry.
No one, but I see all.

I smooth my hair down over pointed ears.
Strands colored like the pine needle.
Eyes bright like new sage.

Child of flames.

A startle, a gasp.
Eyes blown wide.

You don't have to say a word.
I know who you are.
I know what you can do.
I know you feel alone.

A hand on her shoulder.
A shot in the dark.

You are not alone.

who are you?
She asks as I walk away.

I am the Morrigan.
I answer.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
The mask slips.
The flames die down.
Lavender eyes. Unmistakable.
A betrayal.

Rhea's madness grows by the minute.
The hearts of her kin, in human hands.
It must be hard to bear.
But it is not as if they need them anymore.

She is so sure of her power.
So confident in her strength.
That she snaps when the ashen one.
Chooses the bright flame.

Wicked.
What a strange word.
Always a descriptor of an enemy.
Never of oneself.
Never mind your delusions of godhood.
Never mind your need for control.
Never mind your disdain for the humans you claim to love.
You must be holy.
You must be righteous.
Else it was all for naught.

I am the one who rises.
Black feathers against white wings.
Keeping her at bay long enough for them to escape.

i knew it would be you, morrigan!
you never loved her! you never loved us!
traitor! scum! you should have been killed while we had the chance!
Rhea does not mean these words.
Firstborn, first loved.
She feels as if she is alone.

I go to join my people.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
The rebellion is bright eyed and ready.
The people are restless, like ants beneath the skin.
The empress ascends.
hail Edelgard! hail she who shall lead us ever onward!
to victory!

I watch from the shadows.
Ten assassins, only within the first week.
Each easily dispatched.
She can never know I am here.
She wants to win on her own power.
She wants to win without their Goddess.
I will let her have this.

The army marches.
The horses chomp at their bits.
The pegasi whinny impatiently.
The wyverns roar in answer.

The tension could be cut with a sword.
Rhea stands upon the ramparts.
Dear Cethleann and Cichol guard her.
The ashes and flame whirl around me.

The walls, they crumble.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
They call it 'Zanado'.
The red canyon.
After the massacre that once washed the walls with blood.
Green blood.

The metallic tang is in my throat.
The bile rises in my stomach.
I am within Nabatea's walls again.

Each soldier is Nemesis.
Each soldier is Blaidyyd.
Each is a demon from my past.
Come back to haunt me.
I am merciless with a sword.
Ruthless with a spell.
Not enough. Never enough.
I scream and the void opens beneath their feet.

I follow the bright green star.
I follow the ashen one.
Black wings spread above me.
Talons grasp their form.

Sleeping. Not yet dead.
Grandmother, I have saved you.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Five years.
A blink of an eye.
I guard them, day in, day out.
Long through the cold nights.

The wolves, they stalk me.
The vultures circle overhead.
I will not let them close.
I will not fail Grandmother again.

Bright emerald eyes.
Verdant hair.
The ashen one awakens.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Her heart is full of joy.
I smile in spite of myself as I watch them reunite.
The happiness that humankind holds within their hearts.
Never ceases to amaze.

So guarded and closed-off.
Immovable as the mountains.
Flat as the still lakes.
And yet, tears stream from lavender eyes.
And glisten at the corners of emeralds.

They settle within my heart.
They play my strings like a lyre.
Their song plays for all to hear.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
The land weeps.
A pool of blood has fallen on the ground.
Spears pierce the earth.
And still, it weeps.

The ebony eagles surge forward.
Their beaks rend the enemy.
Their wings command the sky.
Their talons seize city after city.

I am there. I am always there.
I am their silent shadow.
Their guardian.
The arbiter of lost souls.

My beak tears apart those who would harm them.
My wings shelter them as they sleep.
My talons carry the weary home.
Yet never do I reveal myself.
I am not a deity.
I don't want their praise.

I weave my magics like a cloak.
I veil myself in shadow.
I shield myself with the dark.

Sometimes they see me anyway.
I tell them, in my avian form.
Black and glossy.
Ink-stained and night-made.

I am the Morrigan.
Bringer of death. Keeper of lost souls.
I stand at the crossroads.

They tremble and fall at my feet.
They set up shrines.
They leave offerings to me.

How could I tell them I don't want their sacrifices?
How could I tell them I want their years instead?
Their love, their hate.
Their joy and sorrow.

I don't want a millennium of detachment.
I am outcast. Taboo. Forbidden.
I would trade all my years for a family.
For a home that welcomes me.

I cannot tell them, so I am silent.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
My legend grows, as do our victories.

They say I appear before those in mortal peril.
That I come down in the shape of a great black crow.
That I drink the blood of the fallen.
That I take the souls of the valiant to the heavens.

I see now, how Seiros was made a saint.
How humankind rationalizes that which it cannot understand.
How quickly the story slips from your grasp.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Blaiddyd's kin stands before us now.
Tempest King. Broken sovereign.
Father in his hands.

Dear child, how I wish there was another way.
Human lives flicker like candles in the wind.
How easily they are snuffed out.

I wish we were not the ones who cut your wick.
I wish it could slowly die down into the wax.
Linger the rest of your days.
In the company of your kind.

No, it is the bright flame.
One you called kin who cuts you down.
She is merciful enough to make it quick.

She is not yet frozen.
Her eyes still glisten with meltwater.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Seiros.
First born.
First loved.

Morrigan.
Borne of death and blood.
Never truly loved.

We stand at odds.
Somehow I always knew we would.
She has nothing to say to me.
Neither do I to her.

We have exhausted the words in our mouths.
Now is the time for action.
Now is the time of clashing steel.
Now is the time of whispered spells.

The mud cakes our boots.
Sweat pools under our armor.
She is slipping, I can tell.

Then she reaches for the dagger.

mother never loved you.
she only tolerated your presence.
when you were gone, she would tell me.
how loathsome and disgusting you were.
with your dark magics, your twisted mind.

Seiros means this.
She is well and truly gone.
Only her shell stands before me.

The ashen one cuts her down.
As I stand aghast.
Not by her words.
By how far she has fallen.

My mother is dead.
My father is dead.
My grandfather is dead.
My aunts and uncles are lost to me.
I am alone.

*************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Empress, I warn you.
I knew Rhea once.
Once, I swear to you, there was kindness in her heart.
It has fled many months hence.
She has nothing to lose now.
She is desperate.

I brace myself for her reproach.
For her scolding.
How dare I waste her time with my ramblings.
How dare I dredge up the past.

I am surprised when she reaches out.
A hand on my shoulder.

you were there for me when I was at the academy.
I can't claim to know who you are.
but I trust your judgement.
thank you.

She listens.
She listens to me.

She marches her army over the hills.
Towards the frozen city.
And stops and watches in horror.

Flames, licking the night sky.

By my heart, Seiros.
What have you done?

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
I am no stranger to bloodshed.
I am no stranger to the flames.

I try to save them.
Black wings, gray ash, carry me away.
So many, so many.
Their screams pierce the night.
Their faces like erupting volcanoes.
Burnt beyond all recognition.

I scream at the sky.
The tang of blood is in my throat.
Green like emeralds.

I will not be weak again.

They fall easily before me.
Black mist swallows them whole.
Whirls of purple tear them apart.
I am the bringer of death.

Somehow, I find myself among ash and flame.
Green and white.
They leap and twirl like dancers.
Twin blades flashing like lightning.
And shouts of thunder.

They stand before Seiros, in all her glory.
The Immaculate One.
The primal fury.
Great white horns.
Adorn a monstrous head.
Ivory wings spread wide.
Power spills from her gaping maw.

First born.
But that does not diminish me.
First loved.
But that does not diminish Grandmother's love for me.
Now, you are truly alone.

It is not my place to end you.
It is the place of your vessel, your sacrificial lamb.
The price of your failure to protect humanity.
Let them show you the error of your ways.
Where my words could not.
Maybe their swords will.

Wave after wave of the desperate and zealous.
Bodies crashing upon my shore.
I pour my heart into my hands.
I unleash it upon the battlefield.
And when I have no more to give.
I draw my sword and charge.

Nemesis. Father. Blaiddyd.
All blend together before me.
But they are not me.
They are gone, gone away.
To live with Grandmother beyond the Blue Sea Star.

I turn and there she is, bearing down on them.

I am Morrigan.
I am not Nabatean. I am not human.

I.
Am.
Myself.

Black wings, carry me home.
Green blood upon my talons.
White flesh caught on my beak.

The axe and the sword.
Grandmother and her legacy.
They fall.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
I find them, months later.
A small cottage in the mountains.

Uncle. Cousin. Beloved.
How I missed you.

The betrayal in Cichol's eyes.
The forgiveness in Cethleann's.
They embrace me all the same.

we are sorry.
we should have stood for you.
we should have stood against her.
we should have reached out to her.

The past is gone.
The future is not yet here.
All we have is the gift of today.
That is why they call it the present.
Live, my brethren.
Live and let live.

and you, Morrigan.
what will you do?

The worry in their eyes.
I smile.
Do not worry.
I know my people.
I have a home.
I just need to claim it.

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Black wings carry me home.

Enbarr is beautiful this time of year.
The sun setting across the wide sea.
The light playing across the rooftops.
The people, they stop and stare.

I land in the garden.
I pull myself in again.
My talons to hands.
My scales to skin.
My feathers to hair.

Congratulations on your engagement, Your Majesties.
I say to the ash and the flame.
I heard your heart beats again.
Seiros' hold on you is no more.
I heard your Crests are gone.
Send my regards to the Countess Ordelia.
My heart fills with joy for you.

Hands fly to her mouth.
They recognize me.

I have deceived you.
I worked in the shadows.
For I feared the light.
I feared my family.
I feared myself.
But I fear no more.

You may end me.
I, the bringer of death, will become the same.

But I ask you:
If you would not judge a person by the blood in their veins.
Will you judge me for the blood in mine?

I bow my head.
I wait.

I am Morrigan.
I am the bringer of death.
I am the keeper of lost souls.
I am she who stands at the crossroads.

Now I wait for life or death.
Now I am in the hands of the found.
Now I stand at the crossroads.

 

 

 

The axe slips from her grasp.
In her silence, an apology.
In her downturned face, an invitation.

Born anew, in ashes and flame.

********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Black wings fold, surrounding me.
They have carried me home.

Mother, father, grandmother, they sleep.
But I am no longer alone.

Notes:

Whew. That took me three nights to write.

I apologize if Edelgard is a bit out of character at the end there. I couldn't sleep until I finished this, so I was a bit rushed.

Series this work belongs to: