Worship Hello, Goddess? It's Me, Ki'irha. (Open)

Ki’irha

The mare moved carefully, slipping through the rays of light that filtered in through the windows. Particles of dust floated lazily through the light, and the woman’s grey eyes flickered away from the brightness. Her mind was shadowed, her heart weary, and though she wanted to shy away from anything that could illuminate the confines of her spirit, she had heard that this building was a sanctuary for prayer. Ki’irha wasn’t sure about the gods here. She had spent her life questioning the existence of deities; though she had certainly prayed before, she was unsure if anyone was listening, if anyone was there to answer. But Mesec had been evidence enough that gods had existed, for his own mother had been the Goddess of the Moon. And she had seen with her own eyes the gods of Helovia, she had seen them killed by an overwhelming evil force. It had been their ultimate sacrifice that had given the survivors a chance to flee. But that had been Helovia, that had been a different world entirely. So that still left the unanswered question:

Was anyone here listening?

She paused beside one of the windows, glancing out towards the horizon. The view was breathtaking. The golden light of the morning gilded the silhouettes of the trees and mountains. She herself, became traced with gold; the warmth of the sun’s light was in stark contrast to the cold hues she wore upon her curves. She found herself then standing beside the window, taking it all in, and a soft sigh escaped her lips, rising in a soft frozen puff of breath. For miles stretched a land of possibilities. An entire world lay out there, sprawled out before her, offering itself to her. She could be anything here. She could be a queen, a commander of armies, a loyal subject. But the possibilities drudged up longing. She could have been all of those things back home. The world there had been her oyster as well, and she held it within the palm of her hand, but hadn’t been able to close her fingers around the jewel of a perfect life. She snorted, brows furrowing, at the thought that all had been perfect back there. She had certainly dealt with tribulations, with suffering, with hard work that yielded no reward. Yet it had been different. She could taste her destiny back then, but now she found herself hesitating in the face of the unknown. The woman had never found herself balking at anything. Yet, here she stood, painted in golden light, looking out into the beautiful unclaimed moment of day break, and again found herself stuck in the past.

“I’m not even sure what’s real anymore,” she found herself saying to nobody, or perhaps to some invisible force that may have been listening. “I wasn’t sure back then, if anyone had been watching over us. Over me. But I learned that I had been wrong. Everything was so wrong back there, in the in between place, and I feel like it turned me upside down. I just, I’m not sure if anyone is even here. Maybe you’re the same as what was back home, or maybe you’re something, or someone, different entirely. But if you’re a god, you must have power over more than what is here, right? If you can, all I ask is you watch over them. Keep safe all of those who I had loved who were left behind. Maybe you may guide them here, but if not, please, just keep them safe beneath your ever watchful eye.” She shifted beneath the light that washed over her, as if it suddenly had weight pressed against her shoulders. Her eyes opened, again taking in the view, and she continued. “Virga and Vesper, keep them together, let them revolve each other like satellites, so they may never be alone. And Mesec, watch him too. Make sure he is safe. Make sure he is well. And, should it be in your plan, let him find love. Let him shake the weight of losing his mother. Give him everything he deserved, everything he couldn’t find in me.” Her heart sank, and if she had tears to cry, they would have fallen. But she remained strong, and blinked away the stinging that settled upon her eyes. “If you can, just let me know they’re okay. It’ll be easier if I knew they were okay.”

The smallest flutter tickled her shoulder and the side of her neck. She nearly jumped at the feeling, recoiling as the sensation sent ripples through her facade. Gentle as a kiss, one of the feathers woven into her mane had fallen barely out of place, tickling her as it caught a gentle current of air. A sign perhaps, or more likely a coincidentally well-timed breeze, but still. A smile drew itself upon her features, and she turned her head towards her shoulder, lipping at the snow white feather given to her by her daughter. Making sure it was still firmly attached, she finally pulled her softened silver gaze away, and looked back out over the world. Another sigh escaped her, this one markedly lighter than the last. Expression again somber, she remained beside the window, basking in the light, and planned on remaining there until the soft ambers and glowing gold faded from the sky.