• Published 31st Oct 2013
  • 6,416 Views, 151 Comments

An Empress' Wish. - overlord-flinx



Her story is as long as time itself, but her body is as young as yours or mine. This is her story... This is Megan.

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(Memory of Megan) Home on the Range.

I remember my home... Heh. Home is somewhere you never forget, is it? When you close your eyes... You can almost smell the crisp apple fritters mama made just resting out on the windowsill. You can just feel the hot breeze carrying the warm sensation of the wheat field ready to be tilled. You just... Remember home... I remember mine whenever I blink. When my eyes shut for that small, immeasurable moment...

I remember... My home... And I remember how alone I felt when I first entered this world. How alone I still feel... How alone you are when you're the only one of your kind...

It's vague... Really, really vague... But I remember... Home.


Softly, the caws and coos from the hen house sounded the mid hours of the passing day on the vast farmland. The hens' sounds were accompanied by the jovial laughter and play of children scurrying across the field. Two little tykes, a boy and girl garbed in muddied work slacks and shirts, paid not a moment of care to their clothes getting all the more dirty as they rolled around in the cool, muddy tufts of grassy turf. As the two children laughed and played, a fair blonde girl watched from blurred cover of a frosted window their playing. She sighed, trying to make out her brother and sister playing in the yard, but only seeing vague blobs in the window. Even still, those blobs were having the time of their lives it seemed.

The girl excused herself from the window, leaning back and setting herself on the balls of her naked feet. A chill slipped through her, making her shiver and shift from one foot to the other. The hardwood floor of the small living room was like freezing lava to her, each touch spiked through her like little needles. The girl hurried herself to the safety of the kitchen, finding sanctuary from the cold floor on a fuzzy throw-mat in front of the sink. Cold was soon replaced by warmth and comfort from her toes all the way up, bringing her to giggle to herself. For a moment, the girl stood beside herself in a spot of reflection.

Things're good, she thought while running the faucet to the sink until the rushing water it spat out gave off the slightest fog of steam as it knocked against the steel of the inner sink. The girl ran her fingers through the water, for the second time shivering as her fingers were made both wet and warm at one moment. Still allowing the water to sound rapid, echoing clangs against the inner sink, she drew a towel to her wet hands and dried them clear of water before flicking the facet off. For extra measure, she stroked her dried hands against her overalls from palm to back a few times before looking out the window above the sink. Midday. Still a lot of work to do.

Sure, cleaning her hands before working out on the farm seemed silly and pointless; but even animals didn't want to get tended to by filthy mitts. Cleaned, dry, and dressed up in her jean overalls (which were subsequently already splotched with spots of dried mud), she swung open the screen door from the kitchen to the outside acres to start her day. The sun beat against her youthful face the moment she stepped foot out of the house; following with it the collection of moos, whinnies, clucks, and snorts that made the farm life so clear. The moment she stepped foot outside, sun still against her face and ears filled with animal life, she scooped up a nearby bucket from off the stood leading into the kitchen. The bucket stank of the-you-know-what from her father cleaning out the horse pen the day before, but the girl smiled all the same and swung it at her side as she went to the pump beside the pig pen.

It would take awhile, maybe even a little elbow-grease with some iron wool, but she wasn't about to fill the water troughs of all the animals on the farm with a bucket still stinking with manure. The snorts of the hogs became all the louder as each swine waddled as close to the girl as they could, poking their snouts through breaks in the wooden posts so they could sniff at the girl. The girl offered each snout that poked to her a ginger pat before going back to pumping fresh water into the dirty bucket. It was a good thing she started this at midday she had thought; cleaning out this bucket would take a good-while. At least she had some nice, pink, pudgy friends to keep her company while she scrubbed and dumped out slightly browning water.

Even so, Megan worked as she always did: with love and care in every motion she made.


I remember that morning and afternoon so vividly. The snorts of the pigs as I filled my bucket each time I poured it out into a trough, the infectious neighs of the horses as I combed their manes, the scent of freshly milked milk being bottled. The sweat on my brow and how heavy my clothes felt as work went on and on; it was a good heavy, heavy of a job well done. And...

I remember mama... Mama was baking an apple pie and letting it sit on the windowsill. I'm embarrassed to admit that I did sneak one of my fingers into the top of the pie to get the first taste before everyone else. Mama knew I did that... She said me poking the pie every time only made the inside that much sweeter. Heh.

I remember papa... Shucking corn and hand tilling the field all on his own. The only breaks he ever took were to smile at his kids... Called us his fillies. Even my brother. Heh. He loved us sure as the sun would rise red against the horizon. And I loved him... Sure as the moon was bright.

And I remember Dan and Molly. My kin. My little brother and my little sister. "Keep an eye on your siblings" mama said; "Be the leader for them" papa told me. I was... I always was. They were the bread and butter in my world. Couldn't do without them; not for a moment... Not for a moment. I loved them both... But Molly was my sister. Youngest in the family and last born to the world. I took a special love to her, I admit. But I couldn't do without either of them... Or mama and papa.

Mama, papa, Dan... Molly. I missed them each and every day. I had to... I wondered at times if I didn't miss them... Would I forget them? That thought hurt more than even being without them. I didn't want to forget mama's pies, papa's smile, Dan's energy, or Molly's sweetness. So, I hung onto them... I always hung on...

Ever since that moment when everything was taken away from me... But that's the past... Everything is just the past now.