The Children of Cain: Mercy Cain

"It was not a mistake. Never a mistake. An accident, perhaps. But a happy one. We just had a happy accident."

Those were the words Ciaphas Cain - the Liberator of Slawkenberg, the Warmaster of the Cainite Protectorate, and more importantly, her Father - said to her when she asked about the circumstances of her birth.

But she was getting ahead, she still hadn't introduced herself.

Her name was Maeldanaiah Mortalyss - which according to her studies of the Aeldari language, meant: Total and merciless extermination - a mighty name, meant to strike fear in the hearts of Mon-keigh and Craftwolder alike.

But in the same manner for all things chosen for her by her mother, she refused to use that name. Instead she went by the name: Mercy. Mercy Danaiah Cain. And if her Aeldari name wasn't enough of a hint, her mother was Malicia Mortalyss, Bloodward to the Lord Liberator.

As expected of such an "union", she had the "luck" of being born as a "Half-Human and Half-(Dark?) Eldar. A sacrilegious creature by both the Imperium of Man and the entire Eldar Species.

It wouldn't be so bad if her "species" was the result of her mother and father deciding to break those taboos for the sake of each other. But that was not the case, as her mother constantly reminded Mercy, she was but a mistake.

For some unfathomable reason, Malicia had decided to have an offspring - no one, and she meant no one had ever known the true reason behind said decision - and instead of going about it the "regular" way, she instead went for a "vat-grown" approach for Mercy's conception. And since she couldn't just go to Commorragh to use their Birthing-Laboratories, Malicia had to rely on the BORGS and their cloning equipment.

The idea was for a (near?) Identical Clone of herself, as a child, for Malicia to mold and shape as she saw fit. So after terrorizing a few BORGs - who specialized in genetics - into compliance and utter secrecy, the project was started.

Unfortunately - or fortunately, depending on who you asked - the BORGs encountered a roadblock. Their cloning machines could not fully work with Eldar DNA - which was to be expected since they were meant to be used only for humans - and after several batches of failure after failure, someone had the "uncanny" idea to add Human DNA to "stabilize" the cloning process. And by incredible luck - or the favor of the Powers - their gamble was a success.

Unfortunately, the BORG's failed to mention this impromptu change to either Malicia or the Human donor, which of course, was their glorious Liberator.

Suffice to say, the reveal of their new Half-Human/Half-Eldar daughter to the Liberator and his Bloodward, was met with overwhelming shock.

At the time - despite coming out as a child and not an infant - everything was so new and confusing for her, that she could barely recall any of the conversations that had happened around her. All she could remember was that Malicia had been "displeased" with the result while father remained his ever stoic self. Meanwhile, her "big sister" Zerayah had spent most of her earlier memories teaching her all sorts of stuff and showering her with lots of affection.

By the end of whatever discussions her parents had, Malicia begrudgingly acquiesce to raising her. That's when she was finally given the name Maeldanaiah.

At the time, Maeldanaiah naively put up with Malicia's training in a futile effort to gain her affection. Yet no matter how hard she trained, she could never reach the insane standards Malicia expected of her offspring. And after each failure, her "mother" reminded her again and again that she was nothing more than a mistake.

After a particularly bad day, her father had taken the time from his insanely busy schedule to come and comfort her. She could recall crying and tearfully asking why she couldn't do anything right. Why she could never get her mother to approve of her. If she truly was a mistake.

So distressed she was she could barely recall what sort of reaction her father had at the time, when she poured out all those emotions. But to this day, she could still recall his words.

"It was not a mistake. Never a mistake. An accident, perhaps. But a happy one. We just had a happy accident."

Those words weren't something she had wanted to hear at the time, but they were , in fact, what she had needed to hear. Father cared for her and respected her enough to not feed her a "nice" lie to get her to stop crying. He gave her a bitter truth that, with time, made her realize that the circumstances of one's birth were irrelevant. It is what one does with the gift of life that determines who you really are.

It was thanks to this lesson from her father that Maeldanaiah found the will to find her own way, but to also learn to love life itself.

Tales of TCoC: Mercy Cain.
Pick (No) Mercy.

Maeldanaiah quietly observed as her Big Sister Zerayah played a "Hologame" called Overguard, about characters running around in teams shooting each other and completing objectives. A tad violent to be sure, but at least the deaths on-screen were toned down and characters didn't explode in showers of blood and gore.

Still, it was a game she had little interest in playing herself, so she sat patiently and watched as Zerayah played.

After several "Matches" it became increasingly obvious that her sister was getting more and more frustrated, since her team would constantly be declared the Losers. It was strange to Maeldanaiah, since the thought the point of a game was to play and have fun, so why get so bent out of shape over it?

"This is the worst team I've ever played with in my life." Zerayah declared after another frustrating defeat. "When we finally get to the point, everyone dies."

"As I understand, not every team will 'click' right away." Maeldanaiah said, trying to pacify her big sister, reminding her of one of the many lessons both Father and Hector taught them when in regards to leading/being on a team.

Yet, her words were for naught, since Zearayah appeared to be too ticked off to even listen to her words, much less sympathize with her teammates.

"You should've picked Mercy!" Her sister shouted on the microphone to the headvox she was wearing that allowed communication between players as they played their game. "Or pick any kind of support!" She then went on to complain about how they ended up losing, and how it was their fault for not learning how the game worked correctly.

Of course, said teammates took umbrage with Zerayah's words and called her out as well. "If you like Mercy so much, why don't you just marry her?"

Others chipped in, accusing her big sister of being "one of those" that gets on Voxs to lecture others; how she was in reality the worst player on their team; or they laughed at her for "Khorne-ing out" as hard as she did and to instead go back to playing Team Stronghold 2.

Much to Maeldanaiah confusion, they continue to play the game while yelling and ranting to each other over the Vox. If it was such a pain to play with each other as a team, why not simply change teams or maybe stop playing altogether? Unfortunately no answer would ever come to her and she chalked it all up to something in Human Culture she couldn't quite grasp just yet.
As the argument continued and progressively got more heated, based on the expletives they were using, something that got repeated over and over again was the phrase: "Pick Mercy!"

The young Half Eldar, found it odd that a character in a game whose main objective was to kill the enemy team, was called Mercy. But the more she watched the matches, she realized that Mercy was a "Support"-Type of character whose main game plan was to "Heal" their teammates so they lasted longer, empower them to deal more damage and had a chance to overcome their enemies and even resurrect dead allies whenever someone fell due to a mistake.

At the time she didn't understand why, but seeing such a kind and benevolent figure in a setting filled with violence and conflict, spoke to her in a way that nothing had done before. And she was not shy or fearful weakling, for she too was capable of fighting back when needed; yet it never overshadowed her duty to help and heal others.

It was a much nicer way to help in battle than what her mother tried to teach her about it. All those poisons and torture devices really dint't appeal to her.

"I want to be Mercy." Maeldanaiah declared, much to her own surprise.

Zerayah turned towards her looking shocked for a second, probably because she had forgotten she was even there in the first place.

"Sorry?"

"I want to be Mercy." She repeated with much more resolve than the first time.

"You want to play?" Zerayah asked, offering her the controller, not really getting what she was trying to say.

"No." she shook her head. "I mean that I don't want to be 'Maeldanaiah' any more. I want to be Mercy!"

While it took a while, Mercy finally managed to convey to her sister that starting from that day, she was to be a new person, her own person.

Maeldanaiah Mortalyss was no more. Henceforth, she was Mercy Danaiah Cain.

Tales of TCoC: Mercy Cain.
She-who-Quenches.

Cain sighed, feeling exhausted.

Something that wasn't out of the ordinary, since ever since the Protectorate grew to the size of an entire sector, his workload had increased as well. One would think that having supreme authority over several planetary systems would allow him to abuse his power to relax once in a while - which of course he did, thought not as much as he would like to - but his paranoia over what sort of disasters would crop up if he didn't keep a constant watch over the actions of the lunatics that surrounded him, would not let him rest at night.

And so the Liberator continued to work. Though he had to admit, lately work had been harder on him, not because of an incoming threat coming from the Imperium, but instead from the BAD mood that had come over his Bloodward.

Despite being in close proximity for decades now, Cain still held some fear towards the Xenos whose entire culture revolved around extreme forms of torture. Not even the Mark that Emily had "so graciously" granted her so she would protect him under the threat of eternal punishment in the realms of the Dark Prince, was enough to quench his fear towards her.

As for the reason for Malicia's sour mood? It had to do with their daughter - and Throne on Terra had the idea of having a Half-Xenos clone child still shocked him - and her adamant insistence of being called Mercy.

It seemed that his attempts at subverting Malicia's Drukhari conditioning of the Child, as to avoid her growing with the desire to inflict the same dark and twisted forms of torture on the population of the Protectorate - and more importantly on him - had worked.

Maybe a little too well. Since the little clone was apparently going through some sort of "rebellious" phase, which would've alarmed him, but since said rebellious attitude was in the form of NOT wanting to kill and torture to her heart's content, he was happy to let it continue.

Unfortunately, this meant that Malicia's bad mood was partially his fault, adding even more stress to his already stressful life.

Then a knock on the door of this office snapped him from his musings. Since he didn't have a scheduled meeting planned for that hour of the day, this meant this visitor was someone his guards had allowed to approach unannounced.

"Come in, Zerayah." Thankfully, it was the Biological Weapon that he called daughter at the door and not some sort of unexpected attack on him; not that an attacker would bother to even knock on the door and wait for him to invite them in, but with how his life had gone so far after becoming the Liberator, he could never discount such a possibility.

"Hi Dad." She greeted him with a smile. "Just came by to confirm if we are still on for Family Dinner."

"Of course." Cain confirmed with a nod and a smile. While his workload had increased as the Protectorate grew, he still tried to make time for both his daughters, not only to check on them, but to keep up a healthy familial relationship so they do not grow up to scorn him and end his life prematurely in an attempt at payback for his neglect.

Speaking of which…

"Where is Me- your sister?" Cain corrected himself, as he heard the low growl come from Malicia. While he had no problem addressing the little Xeno Clone as Mercy, it was still a sore subject to bring up around his Bloodward. "I thought she was spending time with you."

"She was." Zerayah admitted. "We spent several hours together, but she decided to go back to her room."

"So she's resting, then." It was understandable that after hours of play any child would wish to rest in the confines of their room, no matter the augmented biology from her Eldar side giving her more energy than a regular Human child.

"I guess." Zerayah shrugged before adding, "She also said something about making an offering to Slaanesh."

As soon as those words had left her mouth, Cain was already making his way towards the Child's room with such speed and agility that would give pause to both Astartes and Eldar alike.

Cain had no idea what to expect, his mind conjuring thousands of horrific scenarios based on his experiences of the Slaaneshi Cults ceremonies he had attended with Emeli back before she had ascended. And while barging into the middle of a Dark Ritual filled with dread, it was not as horrifying as the idea of allowing it to come to fruition.

"MERCY!" Cain called out as he opened the door to Mercy's room, and was shocked to find…the same room as it has always been. No chanting, no ritual circle or even an altar on which a body was prepared to be sacrificed.

Just a regular old room.

"Father? Are you alright?" She asked, looking at him confused by his disheveled appearance and loud outburst.

Upon noticing there was no immediate danger to his life, and the lives of everyone currently in the palace, Cain quickly put on his mask of collected calmness.

"Sorry, I was just eager to check on you."

Mercy smiled at him, happy to hear he took time from his busy schedule to come see her, that she totally forgot about his "uncharacteristic" behavior from earlier.

"Zerayah told me you wanted to make an offering to Slaanesh." Cain said, making it sound like a question which Mercy was eager to answer.

"Yes." She nodded before grabbing his hand to pull him to the side. "Here, take a look." She then showed him to a small decorative commode that had six scented candles surrounding…

"A glass of water?" Cain asked out loud, puzzled by he could even begin to ask questions, Mercy enthusiastically answered.

"I was curious about the different beliefs in the Protectorate, so I asked Zee about it." She began from the very beginning. "As we talked, I recalled that Mother would often refer to the God of Joy as She-Who-Thirsts, and Zee told me that's what the Eldar People often called her as."

"Yes, that's correct." Cain said. "That is one of their many names."

"And that got me thinking. If that's what the Eldar People call her, then she must really endure quite a lot to be parched all the time." She said, giving him a thoughtful look, which Cain would've never attributed to someone talking about the Dark Powers. "So I thought the most polite and proper thing to do was to offer her something to drink, and maybe alleviate a bit of her thirst."

Cain felt so many conflicting emotions after hearing Mercy's honest-to-throne naive explanation to try and help a member of the Four Chaos Gods, but after a bit of silent contemplation, he settled on amusement - as a way to stave off any madness he might develop if he kept thinking about it - and gave her a smile.

"While your intentions were genuinely nice, I believe you have misunderstood the nature of the Prince's Thirst."

"Oh." Mercy exclaimed before looking sad at the floor, "So she wouldn't want my offering? Was I just a bother?"

"No, no, no" Cain was quick to clarify. "I'm sure they are thankful for it, despite the misunderstanding." He fibbed. Hoping Mercy wouldn't go down and look for more "proper" offerings towards Slaanesh.

"Really?" Mercy asked hopefully.

"Come, how about we ask your mother to tell you about the beliefs of the Eldar?" He had close to zero knowledge about what those could be, but hopefully they were not as dangerous as worshiping Slaanesh.

As they were about to leave the room to look for Malicia - who they later found out had nearly suffered an apoplectic fit after hearing about Mercy's offering - Cain felt a tingling sensation on his palms, causing him to give a quick look around the room.

Nothing inside the room really screamed impending danger to him, and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, so Cain continued to walk with Mercy in search of her mother, doing his damnest to completely ignore the fact that the glass of water that Mercy had put on the commode had been once full.