I thought I'd make this for whoever might wanna write a fic about one of their character's pasts without having to constantly provide flash-back sequences during RPGs. And for ya'll to enjoy, here's Herai's childhood story:

Herai's Past: The Little Goddess
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A beautiful prison. Herai could only think of home being such a thing for the longest time.

The harem had room upon room, new ones constantly added for God's latest interest, and more than once would one of the women meet his disinterest and simply be lost to these lovely rooms. The hall connecting them was circular, many fluffed up pillows to lounge on and servants standing by for assistance. Mountains of beautiful clothes. Plate upon plate of delicacies.

But a prison is a prison, whether in a harem or a cage.

Herai felt pity for Geta, her mother. She was the most intelligent of the women, and one of the older ones. But with knowledge and experience came pain at realizing her degrading station. The women in the harem were even lower than servants at this point. But to escape, they face the wrath of God. Why leave a confortable prison for a difficult life of freedom? But Geta was tormented...and only Herai could possibly understand and comfort her.

"I was once so well-off," Geta sighed. Her hair, once a vibrant gold, had worn into the color of dingy hay. Her skin grew lines with wrinkles, every bit of her former beautiful smudged and aged with stress, "I came from a wealthy family and had a wonderful man to marry soon. But God came...and I lost it all."

Herai had more freedom. She could come and go from the harem, allowed to be present at court to watch her father respond to the requests of the people. She could explore the Vearth from the palace to the walls around it. Her mother could only leave when called for...and God had long forgotten her.

"Mama," Herai began one evening as they supped in their chamber, "Why can't you leave?"

"I am your father's possesion," Geta replied darkly, "Possesions aren't allowed to get up and leave whenever they like."

"Am I father's possesion too?"

"Not yet," Geta shook her head, caressing Herai's golden locks, "You are not yet a woman. But when you turn 16, you will be. And then you'll be a pawn...someone to marry off for better relations."

Herai's eyes widened in fright. She'd seen the men God prefferred to be around. They were fat, heavily bearded, and smoked heavily, much like her father did, and there was always a thick cloud of cigar smoke around their heads. Seeing one of them as a future husband was terrifying.

"How can I escape?"

"You'd have to become his successor dearest. Or if he died then you'd have to fight your elder brothers for the title."

"Is there no other way?"

Her mother went quiet. Her eyes grew gray and glazed with the thought. Her hands squeezed her daughter's smaller ones in a vice-like grip. And Herai was terrified by what she suggested next.

"You'd have to die."
___

Geta died later that night. Herai woke up to see her slumped in her pillows, a heavy plate of pastries having been devoured next to her. The doctor came in. Every pastry had been filled with a slow acting poison. Then her father arrived and ordered that his concubine be stored away in his tomb to accompany him to the afterlife when he died.

Herai hid her anger, tucked away with her Devil Fruit abilities. It wasn't enough for her father to ruin her mother's life. He had to ruin her afterlife too.

She waited. She had the entire chamber to herself now...but she was practically nonexistant in the eyes of the royal family. Like a tiger, hidden in the reeds of the jungle waters, she waited for her moment to strike.

Then...her father's lungs began to turn black.

He grew sickly and bad-tempered, the doctors taking away his cigars while he attempted to recover in his bed. And one night, Herai slipped in for a visit.

"You..." he choked, coughing in between his words, "Who...are...you?"

"You stole Geta." Herai accused coldly, "And would steal me when I became a woman. So now I will steal your life, your throne, and your kingdom. And then I'll free Mama. I will take everything you had, and desired." She held out her hand. "Soon everything will belong to me."

God began to choke and gasp, unable to draw a breath as Herai withheld it from his throat. Her hand wasn't even clenched with the effort, but lazily choking him. God's scrabbling hands fruitlessly tried to grasp at the little girl. But soon his eye's rolled back into his skull. His face was still purple as he dropped dead back onto his pillow.

Herai pulled out a cigar and a match, lighting it as she let it smoke over the dead God's body, tapping the ashes onto his tunic. She then dropped it, letting it roll on the floor. She'd let the doctors draw their own conclusions.
___

The very next day, she seized the throne. Her brothers were nothing more than flies to swat away. They screamed as she sent them spiraling upwards in a small tornado. The rest of the children looked upon Herai in terror.

"I'm God now." she said firmly. She took the throne seat. It was massive, and made her look smaller, but she would grow into it. It was her throne now. "So if you all want to keep your lives, you'll obey me."
___

The evening of her coup de etat, she took her mother's body from the tomb, and buried it outside the walls in a beautifully built masoleum. "You told me the way to be free Mama. So I'll set you free now."

The masoleum was bedecked with flowers and sculptures of birds. And Herai, the smallest God ever to reign, sat upon the roof of it. She could see past the Vearth, to the White White Sea. She saw Angel Island, and the road that emptied out into the Blue Seas. And a thought slowly began to occur.

"An God can take whatever they want. Even a tiny one."