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The Dereskian Queen	By : LadyMoria Category: +G through L > He-Man Views: 2855 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own He-man, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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This is the tale of Moria, the fourteenth monarch of the great Dereskian people, and of the Great War which occurred during her reign.

Chapter One

In the year twenty-four thousand six hundred and one of the second age, the great king Monicaldeno and his wife Alessena gave birth to twin daughters. Theyed ted the first Caerlin, the thunder-strike, and they called the second Moria, the dark one. And to the children, the honorable surname of Vadorian was bestowed, that starlight should forever look down upon them in their splendor, and bless them.

The Dereskian people were a contented one, full of prosperity. Their technology was known and envied throughout the land, all coveted their prosperity, and their weaponry and skills in sorcery were infamous. All looked upon the Dereskians in an envious awe, both desiring and fearing their awesome might. It was hoped that this fear would prevent invasion from all potential attackers. Unfortunately, this was not to be.

It was not two months after the birth of the princesses that a raiding party of the Eternians, under the direction of their cil oil of ‘elders,’ attacked the prospering capital of the Dereskian lands. Though the people’s militia fought off the raiders bravely, the Eternians were able to get away with a minimal amount of plunder. In addition to the stolen goods, one of the raiders had managed to sneak into the great palace and steal the infant Caerlin as she slept.

The great king Monicaldeno and his queen sent a number of his people in a frantic search to find the missing child and the elusive raiders, but the search was in vain. The thieves, and with them the infant, were not to be found.

Caerlin was taken to become a replacement to a mother whose child had died accidentally earlier that year. And so, the child Caerlin grew under the care of an Eternian woman, never knowing who her true parents were, and not knowing where she came from.

The woman to whom the raiders brought Caerlin was, of course, overjoyed to have a chigaingain, even if it was merely a replacement for the one she had lost. Her name was unknown, having been voluntarily given up at the time of her maturity. The name she went by now was merely the title of her occupation. Her occupation was the same as her mother’s and her mother’s mother, and so on, going back far into recorded history. It was her hope that after she was gone, Caerlin would take her place. The woman was the twelfth in a long line of her vocation. Long, but not as long as the Dereskian noble line.

She resided in a castle, and her only job was to protect this castle, as well as any secrets that lay within it. Her name, or rather her title, was simply “The Sorceress of Castle Grayskull.”

And thus the child Caerlin grew, with no memory of who she was or who her people were. She only knew that she was different, and it was not merely her pale coloring or oddly colored eyes. True, the moon-colored hair, the skin pallor so white it seemed unhealthy, and the eyes so perfectly amethyst they seemed to glow kept her apart from the other children of Eternia, but there was more. A difference in the quality of the spirit, and Caerlin knew it.

For instance, her mere aging was… quite different from other children, and, indeed, the rest of the Eternian population. It seemed that for every one year she aged, the other children aged two and a half years. Thus, by the time she outwardly appeared seventeen years of age, she had actually aged forty-two and a half ye Ete Eternian time. In Dereskian time, she had aged nearly two hundred years. Not, of course, that she knew that. No one, not even the woman she only knew as her ‘mother’ ever told Caerlin her true age.

And then, everything changed. Caerlin’s ‘mother’ me wme with child. Caerlin did not know it then, but the child that would be born to her ‘mother’ would become both her favorite playtoy and her ultimate enemy. The child, a daughter, was given the name Zoar.

With the birth of Zoar, the Sorceress seemed to utterly forget that Caerlin had ever existed. It really did not matter to her, for Caerlin had grown up with the impression that her ‘mother’ never truly listened to her. And yet, when she looked down at the infant, Zoar seemed to bring memories forward that Caerlin had not known she had.

Images of another, of lying in a cradle with someone else there, of turning in her sleep and seeing a face like hers next to her filled her mind. In one of the rare moments where her so-called ‘mother’ noticed her existence, Caerlin spoke to her of these memories, asking her if they were true.

Looking down at her sleeping infant, the Sorceress reached a decision. Before the birth of Zoar, there had been a present worry in the back of her mind. An outlander was to become Sorceress after her death. Though she had raised the girl as her own, the Sorceress knew that Caerlin would never be Eternian or care for the Eternian people. Her true daughter would realize later how correct her mother had been.

When Caerlin confronted her foster mother about her dreams, something within the Sorceress snapped. She told the girl everything, in a not-so-nice way, and then, the Sorceress of Grayskull, known the planet over for her kindness and generosity, told her foster daughter to get out. She was no longer necessary, she said, now that Zoar had been born.

Most people, upon learning that they everything they had ever been told about themselves was a lie, would be angry, if not consumed with hatred. This was not the case with Caerlin. If anything, she felt extreme relief. And when she was told to leave the castle and the country, she was not dismayed, or even surprised. She left without a word or even a backward glance to her ‘mother,’ or anyone she had ever met. Zoar was the one exception. As Caerlin departed the the halls to the front portcullis, she stopped by the child’s room and looked down upon the resting child. She moved her hand over the closed eyelids, and the smallest of smirks came upon her lips. She then spoke the words that would haunt the child’s dreams for years to come.

“Look well after your people, Zoar the Sorceress, while they are still there to look upon. For I swear upon the family I never had, I will be avenged. If I have to destroy this city to ruin, I will be avenged. You, and your children, and your children’s children will know my name, and they will fear me.”

She lent down and kissed the child’s forehead with a sort of acidic familiarity. She whispered into the child’s ear, and then she was gone.

As she departed down the portcullis, her whispered words echoed in the wind of the moonlit night, filling the quiet streets with an eerie almost-silence. Her cloak billowed in the wind, as her whisper echoed over the sleeping city, with the citizen’s dreams with an icy chill.

“You will never be rid of me.”
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The Dereskian Queen