The Morrighan is not good. The Morrighan is not evil. She is older than either of these constructs. She is. As the Earth is. This planet that has spawned humanity and all living things is a planet of hard and dangerous life. It is terrible and beautiful, and simply exists. Why do bad things happen to good people? Because we emerged on a planet where you can die from being exposed to the elements. Your survival is not guaranteed, even if you work hard for it, even if you become the best that you can be. Even now in your houses with electricity and all the comforts beyond basic survival, it is not guaranteed. Out of this harsh hostile environment, there is beauty, there is happiness, hell there is pure joy. That is the miracle of humanity. That is the miracle of life.
I cannot explain to you the intoxicating draw that the shadows and drums in the night call to me. I cannot explain the preference to have a thousand monstrous eyes upon you, to gasp in fear and anticipation. I cannot tell you why I will always choose this life and her. In the distance you can see the red glow of the fire, the baying of hounds and the promise of nothing more than to be forged and to live. No promise of safety, for she will give you none, no promise of fortune or glory. No promise even of happiness, for often there is none. There is only the promise of life and death and the possibility of becoming more than yourself.
I yearn for the times when I can run to the mad song, to hear and feel my heart beating in time with the drums. My bones colliding with solid earth and coming away sore and stronger for it. I yearn to thrash and fight and be bruised. To feel the pain of my mortal body and overcome it. To reach beyond it and laugh. To grin a wolf grin while blood hinders my eyesight. Those moments are few and fleeting, but worth it.
In the inbetween there are rules to uphold, orders to be kept holy. As a Priestess of the Great Queen it is my lesson to be unwavering. To strive for greater. It is a hard lesson. It is a lesson that I have asked for. And so I cannot sit at the feet of a Goddess who would take my head in her lap and comfort me. I will always choose to stand before my Goddess who looks with an eye of judgement. Ready to tear my skin from flesh should she find need or wanting. Who I would not pray to for healing, least the cure be worse than the cause. Who when I pray to for protection it is with the knowing that if it is my or my loved ones time to die she will not cast her hand out and keep them safe. But will instead lick the soul from their bodies as a predator licks the flesh from bone. Yet I am comforted by her presence, I am stirred by her energy and I long for more.
I can no easier explain why that pulls at my soul than why I prefer cheese to chocolate. It is a taste that I cannot do without.
I feel the Summer heat rising.
The drums in the distance grow…