If there was one event that could be pinpointed as to what shaped me into the person I am now, it would be the death of my mother. If she had survived I would have been a very different person from the one that I am now.
At the centre of it all was Morgienne, my foster mother and High Lady of the Fortunate Island. She informed me herself that I was to look upon her now as my mother, since my real mother was dead. There was no explanation to the child that I was. There was only the cold, hard truth that my mother was dead. At four years old, of course I didn’t understand. All that I know is that I didn’t even cry. I was too stunned to cry.
Later I found out that it was Morgienne herself who had effected my mother’s end. It was in those moments, when I was barely on the edge of womanhood that I decided that I would never be the victim of someone else’s power and control. When I did learn of Morgienne’s treachery, it became an all consuming passion; an obsession. I made it a point to study all forms of Power, its Laws and Mysteries. I committed them all to memory and I used them and turned them on upon those who would choose to exploit me and mine.
Even as a young woman, my ambition was to rule. To be successful, I learned the art of duplicity, which at any court is absolutely essential. I watched, I observed all the while discreetly insuring that I would take my revenge and place myself as High Lady of the Fortunate Island. All that need happen was for the opportune moment to arrive. At last, the people saw her for what she truly was, her star began to fade and she was weak enough to be struck. If our places had been reversed, I know that Morgienne would not have been merciful
It was I who gave her a loving (albeit poisoned) cup at her bedside. Only moments after I watched her life ebb from her eyes, I declared myself High Lady of the Fortunate Island and ceded to myself all land and authority thereof. I watched her funeral pyre burn in the Temple courtyard, and at the very same moment her name was being stricken from all monuments and record bearing her name. Death a second time was no pain for her and certainly release for me. I consigned her soul, her very essence to nothingness. I insured that in the Seven Realms of Existence, it would be as if she never had been. My frustration and hatred of the woman was at last expunged.
Muse:Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 457
Crossposted to
OOC Comment: My apologies to the mods and members. I am just catching up after life’s challenges. With a recent PC meltdown, I have been scrambling. I should have Fanny all caught up this week. 🙂
Life Belongs to Sekhmet 