My name is Morganha. Once I was just a normal person, with hopes and dreams just like any normal person. Silly dreams, ones which seemed easy to achieve at the time, yet somehow when they were right in front of me, I failed to clasp them tight enough and they escaped. Some say that this is like they fell off the side of a cliff away from me. I would say that it was me who fell. Looking back, at the time I would never have believed what I could and have become, although whether I would have said this through awe or disgust eludes me even now. To have a hand in the fate of a nation was far beyond anything I could have ever have dreamed about, blasphemous thoughts that a woman could have any sort of power would have found me punished. But now I am weary, of pretending, of being strong, of taking mortal destiny within my hands, and wish to sleep. Yet this story must be told, for it is the story of the shaping of a nation, the making of a hero, and the girl who enslaved a King. This is my tale.