A Real Goddess Would Let Nobody Die

Nyrkatess finally understood what exactly was happening whenever being with Villacqui made the world fade away. To completely lose yourself in love, to allow it to submerge your entire being, was to transcend the natural world's imperfection by just enough to glimpse the Plane of the Love Goddess and its endless sea of bliss--Her--the same sea in which Nyrkatess was now immersed.

Ambition gnawed at her.

It was possible to make things perfect, to eliminate all filth and decay and ugliness. These Goddesses were real--They knew how! They weren't fumbling in the dark of ignorance! Nyrkatess could learn!

Simultaneously, there was an awfully distracting divine revelation throbbing in her mind.

Heh. Heheheh.

Villacqui was going to feel so pampered. And cherished.

Gahhh!

"You can hear each other, now," Izenakee announced. "Welcome to the Temple of the Stars! For 1677 years, I have come to this Temple to Listen for prayers from your world, and others."

This felt important, momentous, truly it did, and the view was incredible, but, but, but...

<She's real, Villacqui!> Nyrkatess raved. <She's the actual Goddess of Love! She knows everything! I've been enlightened! Wait until I show you! It's just like Suri said, in Their Garden!>

The bigots were so ignorant! If two young ladies couldn't marry each other, then why did the literal Goddess of Love Herself approve of Nyrkatess' choice?!

Hm?!

Why did She have so much advice to give?!

Hm?! Anyone?!

Didn't. Think. So.

<...How do people marry, in the Sacred Realm?> Villacqui asked, a little bashful and hesitant.

Nyrkatess could feel Izenakee's smile.

"Most commonly, the couple prays together near a statue of Me in one of Our Temples, or speaks with Me in-person if I'm available. Afterwards, someone like Telf holds a ceremony, in one of the Temple's chapels."

<...Are we in a Temple, now? This room looks like a chapel?>

"Yes. You are in Our only Temple on your world. It's hidden underground, beneath the Keyic manor."

Villacqui's line of thought couldn't be more obvious, and Nyrkatess was in full agreement.

<If it's alright with you, my Villacqui, I would like to marry you the real way, right now, while we have a chance to do it properly,> Nyrkatess proposed. <If we haven't talked enough, yet, then we can wait, but I would love to be able to call you my wife, when we're traveling around meeting people.>

By the rules of their loathsome society, Nyrkatess' father was supposed to officiate, and offer his blessing. Ha! What a metaphor! An insecure bigot who would sooner smash Villacqui's nose than let Nyrkatess marry her, or Love Herself, Who knew what a precious treasure that nose was, and giggled about how perfect a match they were? Nyrkatess knew which side she was on.

<You would not know my original name if I had reservations,> Villacqui declared. <I would be grateful, Love Goddess, if You would give us Your blessing. Can we be so bold?>

So, judging by how today had gone, a wake-up kiss was truly the most auspicious of omens. Perhaps if Nyrkatess managed to sleep in tomorrow morning, all the bigots on her list would spontaneously combust?

Wait.

Did it matter who woke who?!

"It is the sacred purpose of My existence," Love assured Villacqui, while Nyrkatess contemplated the wonders of marriage. "There's only one thing left to do. Who are you? Listen to your heart. What does it say?"

There was no hesitation.

<I am Villacqui, wife to Nyrkatess.>

...Ahhh...This was it...Those words, while floating in Love's endless sea...

The quintessence of bliss.

Nyrkatess wanted to pause to savor the moment, but there were words coming, coming from somewhere deeper than her heart. The portion of her power that she could not expel, now mixed with Love's inside her vessel, was buzzing with the sound of a truth so sacrosanct that the Plane of the Love Goddess resonated with it.

<I am Nyrkatess, wife to Villacqui.>

And so it was true.

"Then you had better cherish each other forever," Love advised. "You are married, with My blessing."

A real marriage ceremony, refined down to the only part that mattered, the sublime core. Nyrkatess could only float in Love's sea.

<Thank You,> Villacqui said. <Let's continue with the meeting; I know there are many who need Your time. And, also, um...Thank You for 'enlightening' my Nyrkatess. I--I'm glad we're married, so...she can show me.>

Between the divine revelation pulsing in her mind, and her wife's overpowering adorableness, Nyrkatess had no idea how she was supposed to concentrate on the rest of this meeting.

Izenakee raised Her hands to do a giggly little clap, with just Her fingers.

Never. Mind.

<Do You all paint Your nails with Your power?> Villacqui blurted. <I--. Forgive me, I cannot help but think that You must be so incredibly gorgeous! Is it too shameless, to ask if we could see You?>

Could there be any doubt that Nyrkatess had been born for the purpose of marrying this person?

"We started painting Our nails after Suri inspired Us, actually!" Izenakee mimicked Suri's nail-inspection habit. "How about I start by showing you what I looked like when I was mortal?"

Wait, what? <You aren't primordial?>

Being connected to Izenakee felt like...Nyrkatess could only describe it as communing with a higher plane of existence.

"Nope! I'm only 8668 years old!"

...And how old was the Universe?

Izenakee giggled, and swept a divinely radiant hand across the starscape.

"Please, you two! I'm younger than most of these stars!"

...Most?

<Um...pardon my ignorance, but...if the Creator wasn't quite finished when You were born, doesn't that still count as primordial?> Villacqui asked.

That was, more or less, what Nyrkatess had been wondering. It was so good to see Villacqui freely speaking her mind!

"Teeteeteet! Menelyn, I think You'd better add cosmology to Your lesson plans, mm? I may be old, but these two are thinking I'm Old!"

The stars dimmed, outshined by a voice that could only belong to their Mother.

"I fear that We are Old, Izenakee." The ringing of soprano laugh-song caused the stars to flicker. Tragically, it did not last forever. "I think Your idea would be helpful, in many ways. Show them what You looked like at their age."

For once in her life, Nyrkatess was completely speechless.

Authority could be disobeyed. It needed to demand silence while it was speaking, under threat of consequences. What the White Goddess wielded was not mere authority, but causality. Everything fell when dropped, and everything hushed when the White Goddess sang.

A petite woman with wavy brown hair to the middle of her back appeared in Nyrkatess' mind. She was wearing what appeared to be a red version of Telf's tunic, embroidered throughout with flames and shining Suns.

"Mmm! I was rather similar to Telf, at your age. Like her, I was a unique priestess. Believe it or not, I started out as a normal girl, who had dreams of being special. Imagine My excitement when I learned that I was not only the first person in My family to be born with a vessel, but also the first person born with a red vessel in the Age of the Goddesses!"

First person in Her family born with a vessel? Then...Of course!

<You're original, like Villacqui!> Nyrkatess exclaimed.

"It's funny, isn't it?" Izenakee's amusement pulsed through the sea. "The legendary Red Goddess, already ancient when your ancestors began to call themselves gods, is someone your parents would call 'tainted by My mundane origins,' unworthy of full personhood!"

Ahhhhh! Nyrkatess had always known!

<You see, my Villacqui!?> So much for being speechless! <The bigots have it backwards! They know it, too--it's why they're so insecure! You aren't tainted, you're divine in your own right!>

Nyrkatess' wife--hnnnn!--was silent, but the Goddess of Empathy didn't need to read signs or interpret hints to know what Villacqui wasn't saying.

"Young lady," Izenakee cooed. "Look at Me, when I was your age. Do I look like My appearance did not matter to Me? Do you think I wore a red replica of the White Goddess' sacred tunic because I wanted to be subtle and anonymous? No. If wanting to be a glamorous person with the power to answer prayers is bad, then that girl in red was unspeakably naughty. You are allowed to want to be a Goddess; there is no shame in that dream. In fact, We approve. This is a terrible job for someone who wants a life of quiet obscurity."

The wavy-haired priestess in Nyrkatess' mind was replaced by an immortal Goddess, with braids that were elaborate even by Nyrkatess' standards. A fine lattice of brown covered Her head and stretched down to Her upper back, inlaid throughout with rubies made of divine power.

"I asked to become this. I made those rubies and put them in My hair on purpose. We look like We are Goddesses because We are, and We make no apologies for being extraordinary. We never hide how magical We are; We show it proudly."

Oh yes! Preach!

<It must be Your Sisters, Who do Your hair?> Nyrkatess burst. <Such divine artistry! What do you think, Villacqui?>

<...That braid is incredible,> she agreed. <I'd love to try it.>

"Izena braids My hair however She likes, every morning. Occasionally, She gets bored and unleashes Her full talent," Izenakee said. "What do You say, Izena? Are they worthy of Your teachings?"

The shadows faded.

"Let Me confirm a few things, Nyrkatess." The precision of the voice matched the artistry of the braid. "You took in a young, traumatized white goddess of humble origins, who had lost her original family, and was afraid to be assertive. For years, you slept in the same bed, matched your outfits and hairstyles, kept her safe and made her feel safe, paid careful attention so that you could hear even what she hesitated to say, and were so wildly successful at all of it that you just married her in front of Us. You have a passion for dancing, love moonlit nights, and in your opinion, long, black hair is the feminine ideal. Is that about right?"

<Black goes well with everything!> Nyrkatess gushed. All these Goddesses understood! <I love

brushing my Villacqui's hair! And braiding it! And playing with it! And I wear black, too, whenever I can--a black slip, every night! It's what I'm wearing, now!>

"...I see. We are keeping them, yes?" The shadow thing was so cool!

Izenakee giggled, yet again.

"I suppose it's inevitable that Night would have a soft spot for the Moon. Now, let's show you My current appearance before poor Twilight ruptures."

"Finally!" a voice chimed in the background, at the same time as the image in Nyrkatess' mind shifted once more.

...Whoa.

Until only two days ago, Nyrkatess had, in her ignorance, been thankful that she wasn't power-marked. After seeing the grandeur of the Sky Goddess, and now the pinkish-red Goddess of Sunrise, she found herself fantasizing about a shimmering Moon Goddess, made of pearl and dressed in midnight, Who captivated Villacqui's every thought. Who made her feel spoiled simply by entering her field of view.

Three years, Suri had said. It would be a long wait.

But there was more to see than the effects of power-marking. Izenakee's hair was braided into a very familiar crown-and-bun, and Her gown, jewelry, and sandals were all identical to what Nyrkatess and Villacqui had worn during the investiture, except made of Her divine power. Everything glinted like flawless ruby.

"Izena wanted to see if She could replicate the braid, and I couldn't help feeling inspired to complete the full look," She teased. "I hope you don't mind--imitation is the most sincere form of flattery."

Nyrkatess did not mind. Any hint of acceptance into this glamorous family, any recognition at all, was a thrill.

"So, ready to see Twilight?"

<Yes!> Nyrkatess and Villacqui answered together, instantly.

"Get a good look, and tell Me what you think!" that same voice chimed, from behind and to the right.

Izenakee turned in that direction, and Nyrkatess learned the depths of her ignorance.

...

For as long as she could remember, wherever she went, Nyrkatess had stunned and captivated to a persistent soundtrack of involuntary gasps, but she had never been able to compel time itself to stop for a better look.

That power was reserved to the Goddess of Glamour.

Two-handed wave...

Sparkles...

Violet...

Hair...rippling...Sparkling smoke, dissipating into the breeze...

A breeze that blew only for Her...

...Underwater?

<Still with me?> Villacqui's voice restored the flow of time.

<Think so?>

<Good. I have a proposal.>

<Listening.>

<We both acknowledge the obvious, and shamelessly gawk at Her together.>

<Deal,> Nyrkatess agreed. There was no point fighting causality. <I like Her outfit.>

<We are on the same page.>

Well, time to gawk.

A few moments later, Izenakee snickered.

"Imagine living with Her! I open My door, walk out, and there's the Goddess of Beauty, sprawled on My sofa. She rolls out of bed looking like that, you know! It's absurd."

<I just feel lucky to live in the same Universe,> Nyrkatess said.

<Yeah,> Villacqui agreed.

Grinning, Beauty twirled in place. A sparkling cloud of dark violet vapor-hair trailed behind Her, with an unnatural delay, and slowly settled into a rippling cape.

It made absolutely no sense that She could twirl so lightly on the tips of Her bare toes, but the rest of Her made as little sense, so whatever.

What was even the point of boys?

<You must have started out like the Red Goddess, and transformed the same way? Became power-marked, like Nyrkatess will?> Villacqui wondered. <I thought if Nyrkatess answered prayers, she would turn out like Suri, or Your Sister, but then, why are You so...like even Your Sister can't believe it? How exactly does power-marking work?>

It was good that Villacqui was here to think of such excellent questions. Nyrkatess was too busy fantasizing about her wife's diamond eyes literally glittering.

There was a flash of violet, and Beauty Herself appeared immediately in front of them, wearing a triumphant smirk.

Heavens have mercy on their mortal souls.

How could these eyes ever look away from a mirror?

"Seeeeeeee, Zyriko?!" Beauty taunted. With one hand on Her hip, She wagged a finger on the other, and Her head, with each syllable. "There's some-thing wrong with you!"

<There really is.> That was Suri's voice.

<We will do this for the rest of eternity, huh?> Zyriko sounded resigned. <Every time You meet someone?>

“Goddesses never forget!”

...Her hair was still rippling, from those head tilts. How?!

<...Would You...be willing to do the finger wag thing, again?> Villacqui dared to ask.

Another excellent question.

Smirking slyly, the Violet Goddess deliberately turned away. She looked back at them over Her shoulder, sending waves down Her cape of sparkles, and placed one hand on Her hip. Slowly, tantalizingly, She raised the other hand, extended a single sparkling finger, and wagged it three times.

With each wag, the style of Her outfit changed.

"If you want to sparkle on the outside, you need to sparkle on the inside," She explained, suddenly serious. "Villacqui has the right idea, Nyrkatess. I will tell you what you need to do, to refine the raw ivory of your soul into the shimmering, pearly moonlight it was always meant to be. In exchange, watch closely, and tell Me your favorite."