It was the day before the Blessing of Eisheth festival, a day before the light-hearted revelry began weaving healing and peace with music and song. Like all festivals, this day was reserved for a more sedate ceremony, one Mena’s family had always attended. Olivier always said that the blessings of Eisheth were always available, even if a candle was never lit.
Mena slipped her shoes off at the door to the temple and began washing her hands and face with the fresh spring water that splashed in one of the anointed fountains. The shoe removal was something that wasn’t required, but you did not enter Eisheth’s Temple unclean.
“May Eisheth cleanse my body and spirit as she did Blessed Elua,” she murmured quietly as she finished her washing and entered the temple.
Congregants milled about at the various niches where candles and incense could be lit for private prayers. Others clustered around the statue of the angel herself, shown amongst the symbols of her arts and animals that flocked to her along the coast she once called home. Dolphins frolicked at the base of the statue whilst sea birds carved of fine marble were sculpted at the top. Behind the grand depiction were scenes of Eisande, murals of musicians and healers, lovers and sailors, and all who found peace in Eisheth’s gentleness.
Among them were a few of her descendants.
A redhead covered in a silken cowl and bowed in prayer, her marque quite visible, was one of them.
Rosanna counted Lady Eisheth as an ancestress on her father’s side. Long had the Baphinol family tended to the lands once beloved by their angelic foremother, caring for the people who lived on their estate and tended the fields of lavender and grapes. No few of her lineage became musicians, such as her elder sister Joia with her vielle, or her two eldest siblings Dizier and the family heiress Cateline who were excellent chirurgeons. It was a testament to the skills held in reverence by the angel that so many of her children followed such trades and careers.
Even though Rosanna was not dedicated to the priestly order of Namaah, she never missed a festival or holy day for any of their esteemed immortal ancestors. They had much to be grateful for, and she would never disrespect them so as to forgo her duties in faith.
“Lady Eisheth, please watch over my family, as once again I am to have another niece or nephew. May the labor be an easy one, may mother and child be well at the end.” She whispered her long list of prayers and lit another candle. With such a large family, she had many loved ones to wish for, but Eisheth was loving and patient, and Rosanna swore she could feel the angel’s presence at every visit to the temple.
Mena made her way to the statue of the angel and looked up at her, feeling more of her calming love settle around her like a cloak. When she was ready, she looked around to find a niche to offer up her prayers in. Most niches had two or three faithful in them, except for one. One glance told her why; clearly the occupant was an adept. The completed marque of Valerian and red hair made her Rosanna, an adept Mena only knew because of the records Olivier had started in the House. Though very few people outside of the House knew of Olivier’s condition, if anyone had to find out in order for Mena to completely lay herself bare before the angel, a Valerian would be least likely to share what they’d heard.
Mena slid onto her knees on the bench a respectful distance from the other woman and took a deep breath. She carefully lit a stick of incense, feeling her mind empty as she’d been taught, the only thing in it was a tightly wound ball of grief and love.
”Lady Eisheth, gentlest of the Companions, hear my prayer,” she said quietly but clearly, pausing to light one of the candles in front of her. “Please grant Lenora nò Balm your gentleness, care, and knowledge in the coming days and weeks. Lady Eiseth, hear my prayer. Please hold my grandfather, Olivier nò Heliotrope, in your grace and compassion in the coming weeks, that he may have peace and comfort in the days before he comes to Terre d’Ange eternal.”
She looked down, the rows of candles swam in her vision as she let her tears free. “There is nothing left to do to save him, but please grant him this. Lady Eisheth, Angel of Compassion, hear my prayer.”
Hearing soft footsteps behind her, Rosanna waited in respectful silence as the new worshipper came to share the prayer niche. Each could potentially fit up to four people if they knelt in a half circle around the holy icon. However, many had chosen on this auspicious day to instead gather below the main altar. When this newcomer came into her line of vision, she found a somewhat familiar figure. At times she had seen the woman, another of her own order, attending religious festivals. Every time Rosanna went to attend, she was sure to find this same courtesan somewhere in the vicinity. It would seem they shared a heart of devotion.
Such a heartbreaking thing to hear her pray for a loved one nearing the end of his life.
Although she herself had never lost someone so near to her before, she could feel sympathy for what she must be going through. Many on Mont Nuit loved fiercely, even if their manner of loving differed vastly. When one of her incense sticks threatened to prematurely burn out, Rosanna offered one of the nearby candles to help her lit it anew.
“My sympathies for your family,” she whispered kindly.
When the candle was offered, Mena took it gratefully and relit her incense. “Thank you, they are appreciated,” she replied. For a moment, she stared at the candles not really seeing them, before she turned and said, “You’re Rosanna from Valerian, right? I’m Philomena, from Heliotrope. I’ve heard of you, plus I’ve seen you at the temples. There aren’t many devoutly raised adepts, so finally getting to meet you feels like a blessing.”
“I am. And I share the sentiment. Perhaps our meeting today was guided by the Lady’s hands.” Smiling sweetly, Rosanna studied the somewhat familiar figure of the courtesan at her side. Yes, she had seen her face at festivals and holy days in the past, they just had not had the chance to be introduced before now. “Devotion moved me to become one of Namaah’s Servants to begin with. I felt called to service. I am glad it brought me here so we could finally meet.”
Outside, the sound of happy revelers and music began to infiltrate the temple. Not that music was ever an unknown in Eisheth’s domain. Even now, an unseen harpist filled the air with a sweet melody. Surely by now, the plays and entertainments organized by the temple of the divine patroness of the arts would be starting.
Mena exhaled slowly, letting the gentle notes of the harp slip into her mind and give her peace. She nodded and said to Rosanna, “I was born into it, both devotion to Namaah and devotion to Elua and the Angels. Both devotions bring me such peace.”
Considering a question swiftly, Rosanna looked to Philomena. “When your prayers are concluded, if you are in the mind for some company, I would be happy to attend the festivities together,” she offered.
The Heliotrope looked up at the ceiling for a moment, watching the smoke swirl towards the high ceiling. “I feel as though my prayers are never over these days, and yet, there is less comfort to be had.” Turning her head, she looked at Rosanna and smiled. “I would like the diversion and the company.”
Smiling brilliantly, Rosanna concluded her prayers, adjusted the veil atop her head, and stood. All around them several more of the faithful rose and did the same, preparing to move from the dusky inner sanctum of the temple, and its incense filled air and into the light of day.
“I am glad of it. Let us worship in joy together and get to know one another. I do not often get the chance to converse with my fellows in Heliotrope, despite the collection of romances I keep in my quarters.” She giggled and held a hand out to assist the other courtesan to her feet. “I would very much like to know you better, Philomena.”
Mena smiled, releasing her worries to Eisheth and Elua, and took Rosanna’s offered hand. “I would love that, Rosanna. And please, call me Mena. All my friends do.”
As they walked out into the sun, Mena said, “You said that devotion led you to Namaah’s service. That wording is intriguing. I would say that Namaah called me to service, that devotion guides me. I am sure there’s a story behind your words.”