Mother

~Heart's Desire~

             A thousand winters younger, I roved the realm in search of a reprieve from the curse the Almighty bestowed upon me as I was cast into oblivion. I sought freedom of Cain's ultimate sin that haunted my very existence as his shadow was a vast ocean of despair whose waters I could never resurface. Yet, I ne'er permitted his master status to cloak my beliefs. I was just and generous, I was brave and vengeful. I merely desired life among the humans, live as they did. I sought love and acceptance so that my soul may be saved,  I extended the hand of friendship toward the lesser beings.

            No such generosity was offered by the inhabitants of the realm. My visage that bled from the nightly shade was the essence of nightmares. My eyes were that of ravenous wolves and caused the children to scream. My maw was a cavern of Morning Stars that fainted fair women and provoked assault of malevolent men. Twas a cruel lesson as it was torturous to discover there could never be love when there was only fear.

          I fled to the wretched place of my birth where the cliffs openly enfolded me in their stone embrace and the cradle of my fens murmured with welcome. The trees bowed their heads and shunned the roar of my anguish as I cursed all those who resided in heaven and earth. I cursed those who strode the path shared by darkness and light alike. My light faded, my just heart and generous spirit withered. Three hundred Mabons passed and I withdrew from the conscious minds of those who spurned my existence. Yet, I remained still within the recesses of their nightmares and this hath made me bitter, but not terribly so that I fell out of favor with the customs of humans.  One human custom that made life upon this earth worthy, lingered when the rest hath abandoned me. I desired a child.

            Twas the autumn's end and the cusp of winter that a specter saw fit to visit me. A phantasmagoria of awe and fear sank from the depths of my miry domain beneath the lake. A frightful serpent writhed as it danced amid the shafts of murky light and the currents created by the hordes of beasts above. Twas a vision of an Arch Angel descended from heaven as to smite the unjust. The sight of the fifty foot beast made my blood boil beneath my flesh as only those with a wish for death dared come to my lair. The creature dismissed my snarl and evaded my attack  with ease as it pranced with the waters. It spoke with a voice of power and sway.

         "Monstrous hell-bride, brooded on her wrongs*. I be in awe of thy fearsome presence! Word hath flown on swift wings of thy terror, thy fierce thirst for vengeance. Speak-eth of thy heart's wish and I shalt grant it." Flattery and feigned charm were useless on me as I was unamused and disgusted. Yet, tis an admirable feat to brave the fens and the mire to exchange verbal vows with the demoness. The creature had my ears.

      "Give me reason to, Great Wyrm. What makes thy word hath meaning to me?" It features curled into a heinous grimace I realized to be a smirk.

       "At the expense of my life, Sea-witch, I shalt bestow the ultimate protection against the human threat, a curse to be inflicted upon all Children of Adam. Doth thee require Vengeance? Gold? A reprieve of thy loneliness or perchance- immortality? Thy wish be my command." The creature crooned and the world shook. I knew the repercussions of such enticing promises. Alas, loneliness hath me caged and I was but a slave to my own selfish ambitions.

           "I desire a child, one that shall be protected forevermore from the cruel touch of man. That be my wish, yet how doth this service ye?" The creature's eyes glittered as the shells of the scarab beetle.

          "Fame and eternal glory. Time shalt be thy teacher as thy deed be done..."

         The Great Wyrm vanished the manner in which it arrived and I watched it become one with the realm that rested beyond the fens. The creature made good of its promise as sagely warmth blossomed within my belly and it grew. With the rising of the ghoulish harvest moon that marked the night spirits of the dead returned to the physical world, I became Mother of Grendel.

*Beowulf, Line 1259