Tag Archives: Morella Brightcloud

Morella Brightcloud

Her story starts before her birth.  Morella’s mother and her father, Achille, were deeply in love, despite her father’s strange fascination and obsession with order.  Rumors circulated, however, that Morella’s mother slept with people in order to gain their favor in her husband’s endeavors, but Achille ignored the rumors and simply enjoyed the woman’s company.  Morella was born, and any who looked at her saw mother and father– there was no doubt that she was not a bastard– especially after she began to sort her toys by size and color.  Many times, Morella did catch her mother with other men, and her mother explained very patiently that there was nothing wrong with embracing a sexual nature, but she must save her virginity for the person she was destined to marry, and that she must not tell her father of such things.

When Morella asked her mother if the woman still loved Achille, she answered “With all my heart, which is why I sometimes embrace people I do not like at all– for his sake.  If they see me come to them, they assume both of us must like them, or that they have some advantage, and your father can simply clean up the mess, which he is very good at.” Read the rest of this entry »


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A Sculpted Fantasy

The sculptor threw aside the chiseled bust of his commissioner.  The duke would hate it.  Shaking hands picked up the stone.  Ah, it looked much better, with that curl missing.  Now, it lacked that lively edge that made the duke seem an impetuous youth.  Slowly, he carved the hair into something more refined, and the duke as he was now appeared.  Absently, he wondered what had happened to change the lively young Achille into the stern man he was now.

Had his father finally beaten it out of him with fists and feet?  Had he gotten a too-convincing tutor?  Had one of his adventures in the desert gone bad?  Perhaps, he just grew into it.  With a sigh, the old man set aside the stern bust, made to join the library once Achille’s heir took over the duchy.  He looked it in the eye.  It held all of the life of the man– a relatively small amount, as it was. Read the rest of this entry »


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