Flemeth's last daughter

by Magdelope

Humans are so small to me. So fleeting. A life time for one of my daughters is a mere second for me. And I have had so many, many daughters. Yavana, Yriel, Clarai, Mahara, Tyvenda, Utilada, Limine, Sevine; I have had more daughters than I can remember. All beautiful, all smart, all brilliant witches. All like you, my dear, dear Morrigan.

Humans are so small to me. So fleeting. A life time for one of my daughters is a mere second for me. And I have had so many, many daughters. Yavana, Yriel, Clarai, Mahara, Tyvenda, Utilada, Limine, Sevine; I have had more daughters than I can remember. All beautiful, all smart, all brilliant witches. All like you, my dear, dear Morrigan.

You fancy yourself different, daughter; you think that you know what's what better than anyone. I have to face the fact that this is partly my fault. You can only be what I raised you to be. It is so curious the way you think you are an independent being, running around like a cockroach. Can you not feel my hand, your collar, around your neck?

I can remember when I stole you from your dead mother's arms.I can remember when you were a little girl. I can remember your youth. Such a little thing. Such a fitful thing. Such an angry, angry, bashful child.

I admit it, I did treat you differently. You are my last daughter, something else is not to be expected. I let you believe that you could sing your own tune when in fact the same fate awaited you just like any of my daughters. Part of me feels badly for this; giving you hope only to crush it in the end. Because my plan is to one day take over that lovely body you have been taking such good care of for me.

That does not mean that I did not smile when you took your first steps; it does not mean that I didn't hold you when you had scraped your knees tripping over the threshhold. I don't know what it means that I actually cared about what your favourite food was, or that I actually felt guilt that I destroyed that stupid mirror. Or that I spent night after night telling stories to you as you were falling asleep. Your eyes following me, eager to learn what I could teach you. My child. I sometimes remember you smiling at me; trusting me. Trusting your mother.

I don't mind giving you a bit more time during these last days. You still think that you are free of me; this amuses me greatly. Silly girl. Watching you run around in your little world, thinking that one pregnancy makes you something; makes you special. Daughters remain little and you are my daughter. I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious about what you are going to do next. I have to remind myself that you don't actually mean very much. You never have.