Villainess Winning Entry

Countless legends have been told about Pandoria’s creations. From the bringing to life of Mistica to the construction of her fabled boxes, she has earned the awe and respect of her people. However, not all of her ideas were welcomed with open arms.

Many species in Mistica can call Pandoria their creator. When she revived the land, she formed many new creatures to populate every unique corner of the globe. Skillows and Phelocans filled the skies, Quarian lurked in the seas, and Tarinooki bounded in the tree tops. Several more went into hiding, and still have yet to be discovered. Life was numerous. Life was colorful. New ambitions and adventures were formed every day, thanks to the Goddess. And yet, something was caused Pandoria's soul to tremble with loneliness.

Long before she has stepped foot on this promising planet, she and her sister, Ansidoria, had left behind a homeland of celestial beings, each more vain than the last. Each strove to create the perfect species in their likeness. But very few had the power to give life as Pandoria could. Thus, ill-formed beasts and wretches were fabricated for the amusement of their gods. Then, when boredom struck, they were tossed out into the universe, forced to wander the universe for eternity. So Pandoria vowed never to create a pet in her image.

As the planet took shape and life budded, Pandoria gave no thought to her promise. There was no reason to. Nevertheless, her work was soon done, and her resolve quickly found a reason to waiver. With Ansidoria’s betrayal, Pandoria discovered herself truly alone for the very first time. Loneliness seeped into her heart. She began to yearn for something familiar. And as you know, dear reader, it can be difficult to stave off once it takes hold. And Pandoria was no exception, as she struggled for years to uphold her decision.

Finally, Pandoria decided the only way to soothe the ache was to create. Only what to craft? She imagined wings to soar, paws to scamper, and antennas to see. She visualized white fur, a soft bushy tail, pointed ears, and a long muzzle. As she daydreamed each individual component, the new creation took hold. Though, Pandoria was oblivious to what she was unleashing onto this world, until she uttered its new name and opened her starry eyes. The Braenon had been formed.

Upon gazing at her creation, Pandoria dropped to her knees in shame and horror. In front of her stood her exact shape, like a portrait peeled off the canvas. Her heart sunk at her own vanity. She was gripped with the very notion of being similar to the very gods she left behind.

In a moment of outrage, the Goddess lashed out at the snow-pelt Braenon, staining his pelt pink. The vulpus fell limp. Regret siezed Pandoria. She knelt down to stroke his fur. “I am sorry, little one,” whispered she, “I have brought you into this world, only to curse your presence. Moving forward, I will be better to you.”

True to her word, Pandoria blessed the Braenon with the gift of intelligence and foresight. She offered to him all the necessary tools to rival the wisdom of the Legendaries of Mistica. Never again would the Braenon be struck down. Thus, was the last creation of life of Pandoria.