Write by the Cards: Day Fourteen
A New Direction
If you’re new to The Rebel MFA Way, welcome! This is my daily work for my Write by the Cards: 30 Day Challenge that I’m hosting. Learn more here. Scroll down to the end to see my behind-the-scenes commentary and source material.
Inspired by this hope, the character decided to change course and {draw a card}.
The sea caves were her sanctuary, a world away from the bustling, sunlit court of Atlantica. Ursula had always preferred the quiet depths, the whispers of currents brushing past her like half-remembered songs. Once, she had been sought out for her wisdom, her magic—a gift from the ocean itself. But those days were gone.
Now, she was a villain.
The thought coiled around her like a stray net, binding her to the weight of others’ stories. They called her cruel, wicked, and cunning, spinning tales of her hunger for power. Yet what power did she truly hold? She had offered choices to those who sought her—a voice for legs, love for sacrifice. It was not her fault they miscalculated the price. She had never promised happiness, only possibility.
“Villain,” she muttered, the word sinking into the still water. Flotsam and Jetsam twined around her, their sleek forms pressing close in silent comfort. They, at least, had never doubted her.
Her tentacles stirred, brushing against the cracked mirror at the base of her throne. Its surface glimmered faintly, catching the bioluminescent glow of her lair. She gazed into it and summoned the image of the Little Mermaid—the girl whose story had sealed her fate.
The vision flickered to life: the mermaid’s wide, hopeful eyes, her voice flowing like a pearl from her lips, a gift placed into Ursula’s keeping. The girl had chosen—chosen!—to trade her voice for legs. And when the bargain had run its course, it was Ursula who bore the blame. Not the prince who failed to see her love. Not the mermaid for her blind naivety. Ursula, the witch, the monster.
The mirror cracked further under her magic, splintering the image. A surge of anger rose within her, boiling the water around her lair. “They want me to be a monster?” she snarled. “Then I shall be one worthy of their fear.”
But even as she spoke, the fury ebbed, leaving a hollow ache. What was the point? They had already written her into the story they needed, her name etched into the seabed as a warning to others.
For the first time in years, Ursula allowed herself to float to the surface. The moon hung low, its light tracing silver patterns across the waves. Foam gathered at her touch, dissolving almost as quickly as it formed. The same foam that had once cradled the Little Mermaid’s broken dreams.
She whispered to the night, her voice low and resonant. “If I must be a villain, let them hear the truth from my own lips.”
And as the ocean stirred beneath her, Ursula began to weave a new story—not of bargains and curses, but of a witch who had once tried to help and been cast aside. Her voice carried across the waves, a song of defiance and sorrow, echoing into the depths.
In the stillness, the sea listened.
The currents carried her song far and wide, threading her voice through kelp forests and coral palaces, stirring even the quietest corners of the ocean. Ursula had forgotten what it felt like to sing—not as an incantation, but as something raw, unburdened. Her voice, rich and resonant, climbed into places where light dared not reach, filling the emptiness she had long grown accustomed to.
And yet, as her song faded into silence, she felt no triumph. The ocean was vast, its memory endless, but it did not easily forgive. Could even the truth cut through centuries of tangled tales? The sea had a way of turning truth into myth, bending it to the will of those who claimed power.
The surface rippled with an unfamiliar warmth. Ursula lifted her gaze to see a figure hovering above the waterline. She almost didn’t recognize her—how long had it been since she had last seen her sister? Morgana’s silhouette shimmered against the moonlight, her presence as sharp as coral.
“You’ve been busy,” Morgana remarked, her voice cold and clear. She drifted closer, her own magic curling around her like smoke. “Trying to rewrite history?”
“I’m telling my story,” Ursula replied, her tone heavy with weariness. “And it’s long past due.”
Morgana’s lips curved into something like a smile, but there was no kindness in it. “Do you think they’ll listen? The sea doesn’t want truth, sister. It wants villains. It needs them.”
Ursula turned away, her tentacles sweeping through the water. “And what do you need, Morgana? Another chance to take what I’ve built?”
Morgana flinched, and for a moment, the bitterness between them gave way to something deeper. Regret, perhaps. Or understanding. “I came to warn you,” she said. “The ocean doesn’t forgive easily, and neither do the mortals who tell its stories. You can sing your truth, but it won’t stop them from calling you a monster.”
Ursula let the words settle, the weight of them pressing against her chest. “If that’s what they need, let them have it. But I will not go quietly.”
Behind-the-Scenes Commentary
When I pulled this card, I got excited because I LOVE stories from the POV of a villain or monster. I was surprised after doing some research into Ursula’s origin story that in the Hans Christen Anderson version, she is not named “Ursula” at all and is referred to as the “Sea Witch” and she was rather neutral and one of the least important characters in the tale. Disney of course “Disney-fied” it and made Ursula into a bigger part of the story and the main antagonist. This got me thinking about why so many of the female villain characters end up on the wrong side of history when originally, they were not as bad as we thought. That is what drove the direction of this little story. To be honest, this brought up a lot of questions for me around the development of these female villains and something I might branch off into down the road.
FUN FACT: When my mom was pregnant with my little sister, I desperately wanted to name her Ursula because I did not want a little sister. Up until the day that she was born, I was convinced that was going to be her name. Spoiler alert: I was wrong.
Source Material
The Little Mermaid Tale on “Tales” by Parcast/Spotify Studios