Three things he took from me; three things shall I keep from his child.

Never again will I know trust; never again will I love freely and generously: never again for me a partner, a lover, an equal. He shall have no wife.

Never again will I be without fear; never again will I be sure: ever after shall I be dishonored and defenseless, vulnerable and exposed. He shall ever be unarmed.

Never again will I be myself; never again entire and intact: I am no one anymore, for she that I was has been destroyed. He shall have no name.

The silver wheel turns and does not heal. For this may not be undone:

The sacred trust of kinship is violated; at the hands of my own brother I am shown violence and rape. Against my will I conceived, against my will my belly increased, against my will and in pain I bore twins, two boys, a dark one and a light, and I am mother and aunt to them both. From the birthing-chamber the dark child fled, passing away to the Sea—O blessed child how I envy you! But I had not the strength nor the power to conceal the light child, and he was taken from me and made no longer mine.

For these crimes against me I shall see no justice; I was taught well and brutally that I have not the power. But I shall see vengeance. For a mother yet has rights that a woman does not; and so upon his son I set a mother's curse, for this is yet inviolate. As inheritance I leave him betrayal and sorrow, and death he shall find where he expects love.