This is part of the Other People's mythology. Her father's story can be read here. Her birth can be read here.
Disaster – sudden event – calamity, misfortune, affliction; causing great damage or loss
Mallory was born of stone. She was the least favored of all of Lyra’s children, having fallen at the River Ophelia when she was born and the sadness of the river turning her hair blue before her mother scooped her away. The River changed all She touched, rarely for good. When Mallory opened her eyes and met her mother’s gaze, it was that she had grown into a woman already and in that moment any connection between the two snapped apart.
Mallory was, in such a way, considered lonely. It did not help that whatever she touched – skin or rock or plant – would wither and decay under her fingers, and so every creature and plant shied from her. She did not touch anyone or thing and instead sat silently by the River, watching the water flow.
She considered the loneliness she was said to bear, and eons of thought and consideration she found she was not lonely. She was settled near the River and sure of herself, and with that knowing she journeyed out into the world.
The world was not settled and sure enough for her, however.
She caught the eye of many a soul, but she had no want to be with any of them. She rebuffed each pass and advance, and the more subtle the approach the more blunt her rejection. The world did not understand, and they muttered about her under their breath.
She spoke little and often engaged in only the conversations that suited her. She would leave rooms and words without warning or note, and she would state plainly all that she thought. The world did not understand, and their mutters grew to louder gossip.
She flitted from room to room and group to group and person to person, and her flitting caused shrieks of anger and offense. But she did not apologize, she did not excuse her actions, for there was nothing to excuse. She was settled and sure and had no need for games composed of glances or delicate words. The world did not understand, and they could no longer stand the sight of her.
She ran from the threats and violence and anger, and she ran through the Cities and the Forests and the hills and earth and soil, across glass lakes and venomous grasses, ran and touched every being living or dead with her hands and let them wilt under her touch – for she was settled and sure but the world was not, and the world needed to decay under her fingers. She ran until her blood stained roads into the world and she had touched every atom she could hold, and then she flung herself into the River Ophelia where she had been born.
Mallory was the least favored of all the children of Lyra. Mallory was a calamity of the west, bringing decay and death to the world. Mallory went to the River and waited, and waits still, to move in the world again.
[from the 2013 Pagan Blog Project. word: Disaster]
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