Tiamat Lily

A child cried in the darkness. A darkness filled with memories of another existence. The memories assaulted her fragile mind; a mind made from those memories but not of them. The child witnesses the memories of a self she was, but never shall be again. "Why did they hate me?" She knew the answer. "Why did they fight me?" She knew the answer. "Why did they KILL me?" She knew the answer and wept. The memories were hers, but not as she was now. Back then she was desire, will, creation itself. These thing did not need pity, or remorse, or understanding. Without them she could be the creator, the perfect mother of all. But inexplicably she had them now. Pity and remorse and understanding, and so much more. And with them she knew the weight of her sins. She knew she had been a mother, but also a BEAST. Her will and desire controlled her. And even after her children cast her away, had torn her to pieces, a force had brought her back. And the will and desire rampaged without check, destroying so very much. She wept. She wept for all the things she could not weep for while the power of creation was hers, while the will and desire were all encompassing. "I'm sorry. I know I was wrong. But why do I know I was wrong? Why do I know anything? What am I now?" In the darkness she felt for her power. It was there, but faint. So very, very faint. Next to the supernova that was who she used to be, this power was all but invisible. More than a human, but far less than divine. She reached out to feel the darkness, to try and grab hold of something, anything. There was nothing there. Nothing but the memories. In a moment that shocked even herself, she screamed and raged as she never could before. Her ears rang with the effort, and she then knew that her voice was no longer the voice of a primordial goddess, but of a child. How could this be? Is this some trick of the universe? Some joke to play on the mother of all? Make her a child? She knew of motherhood, of creation and nurturing, but she knew nothing of being a child. What would be the point of all of this? Something had given her a mind capable of rationality, of thought and understanding. It was not some rudimentary thing like she once had, meant for simply disgorging the contents of creation, but a complex consciousness that was as far as she could see only useful here for self-reflection. And then the memories came in again. And she saw the one, the Master of Chaldea. They had faced her. A mere human has stood up to the primordial force of creation, to stop her from destroying everything they loved. And the guilt washed over her again. She knew she had no control of her past self, but it shamed her how she had acted. No mother would kill her own children to wipe the slate clean to make more. That logic was twisted and flawed. The Master of Chaldea saw that when a goddess could not. "I'm sorry. I want to help. I'm ashamed of what I was, but I want to be better than that. If something gave me this being, and showed me my sins, shouldn't there be a way for me to atone?" "Perhaps." A soft, measured voice echoed around her. "But are you ready? It's been over 2000 years, so I'd like to hope so." The voice startled her. But it's tone suggested a kind of smugness that crawled up her spine and emboldened her to snap back. "Why else would I exist if not to do this?" she sobbed. "Are you just mocking me?" "You're here," the voice said carefully, "because I know the Master of Chaldea. And I know they would never give up on anyone, even if they were once the enemy. They believe in second chances, and therefore, when a sliver of your divinity clung to the grail that was your core, I did not cast it off. I used just a tiny bit of the grail to hold you here. A wish of a wish if you will. I created a vessel for that sliver to dwell in, and gave you a mind to reason out your purpose. It took you long enough, by the way." "You ARE mocking me!" she lamented, her eyes welling up again. "But I want to help! And I, I want to thank them. For stopping me from destroying everything I love. I want to meet this Master of Chaldea." "Are you willing to leave behind your full divinity, and attach yourself to the throne of heroes to do it?" he asked? "I am," she insisted. There was nothing but regret in clinging to her past, and more than anything she wished to prove that she could learn from it. To serve the world she once made and still loved. "How did you do all this anyway? Are you some sort of god?" "Nothing of the sort." he chuckled. "I'm just an old fool waiting in a tower." A door open before her and bathed her in the light of opportunity.