I knew the Morrigan once, long ago, before her followers stopped believing in her and she faded away. What I have always found odd was that she was depicted as an old and ugly woman wearing a cloak of raven's feathers. I suppose part of the reason for that is she was the Goddess of Death, after all, and that tends to give you a bad reputation. She never wanted to pay for a decent PR company to handle that, you know. She was always cheap. "You get what you pay for," I kept telling her, but she never listened.
No, the Morrigan I knew was exceedingly beautiful with jet black hair, pale ivory skin, and eyes that glittered like amber. She was, in a word, divine, if you'll pardon the pun. But she didn't like to trade on her good looks, oh my no. She wanted to earn her spot with the big boys by being the best death deity around. Even Kali, that old scoundrel, recognized the Morrigan's devotion to duty. I remember her once saying that when it was her time to die, she wanted the Morrigan to take her soul personally. I told her that I thought that was the funniest thing I ever heard... Kali having a soul?
She was not amused.
I barely escaped from the army of thugees she set on my tail.
But there was so much more to the Morrigan than death. She loved to dance. Most people don't know that, but she did. The only problem was she had two left feet. I remember once, we were attending a fancy ball at Versailles and were attempting the Viennese Waltz. She was wearing these high heeled shoes and kept stepping on me. It got to the point that I told her, "Morrigan, will you please watch where you're stepping. You're killing me with your stilettos!"
She didn't find that funny.
That was her one character flaw. She couldn't take a joke. Or tell one, either. There was this time when a group of us were sitting in a bar, drinking and shooting the breeze, when the Morrigan, deep into her cups by then, tried to tell the joke about the King and the wheel of cheese. As you know, timing is everything on that one, and she blew it horribly. I mean, it was so quiet after she finished, I heard crickets chirping behind the jukebox. I told her, "You didn't exactly kill on that one, did you." She didn't like the sound of that, so, to prove me wrong, she killed everyone there. You see what I mean, now, don't you?
Waaaaaay too sensitive.
Alas, the Morrigan is gone now. With the onset of science and technology, the old gods and goddesses have faded away due to lack of belief. I remember sitting with her as she was almost gone, her skin paler than usual., her eyes dulled to a mere glow. She gestured for me to lean in to hear her words. She thanked me for being such a good friend and asked what I was going to do now that she was leaving me. I told her I was going to pawn all of her belongings and take a trip with the money.
She didn't find that funny.
An Excerpt from The Memoirs of Dr Mandragora: From the Maudlin to the Macabre
by Dr Mandragora
