Written for tamethisanimal
Li had long ago become accustom to other races calling for her aid. It was a side effect of civilization and interstellar travel. As a species went to the stars the gods and goddesses followed. Many deities found problems with this new found congregation of alien seeking their aid. Li, as her influence would suggest, took it all in stride. Passion was an emotion all races understood. Passion for improvement and lovers and victory and knowledge…. Those were common trends so few took the time to see.
When the call had come late in the evening, by Earth standards, Li listened carefully. The call was a familiar one, not of a follower but of someone close to them. Passion left stray lines that connected people through the stars. The friend of a faithful follower was no more important than any other follower on a godly level but Li had once been mortal. All those mortal ideas of honoring friendships still burned brightly and guided her actions.
She appeared softly to the woman who sat, alone, in the darkness. Neither spoke a word for Li knew this woman had sensed her appearance. Still, as was common the woman spoke more to herself than the presence that had joined her.
“I don’t want this.” She said it over and over. Sometimes it was clear and determined, others broken and hushed by emotion. “This” may have seemed vague but Li understood what was in the younger woman’s heart. She was different. She was ostracized and she was cut off merely by what she was, not by whom. Li herself often felt that pang many, many lifetimes earlier. When she had first stepped into the stars as a goddess she too missed the company of mortals. She too knew what it was to miss things that were now out of her reach. Even gods had limitations. They still had things to yearn for if they had the passion inside to want. Li had nothing but passion.
“My dear.” She whispered the words gentle as the breeze and warm as the summer sun. “Tell me your troubles.”
“I want to be normal.” The woman, who was strong, now seemed a mere child, lost in her own world.
“You have great power as you are.” Li was trying to comfort away any harsh decisions. This was not the time to make them. Distressed decisions led often to regrets.
“I don’t want to live forever. I want to see the sun.”
Li would have replied but she felt something else, someone else. Tears welled in the goddess’ eyes but they were hidden in the dark. She knew too well the life shared by one condemned to the dark and one who was bound to light. It was a life the great goddess of passion knew for it was too much as her own. She was the light and he was forever chained to the dark. Over time that gulf had separated them to extents that no bridge could repair. It was pity and despair she felt for the plight of this woman.
Appearance was a rarity for Centauri gods and goddesses. They came more as feelings and understanding than physical form. However, today, Li was motivated to be seen. She appeared slowly before the one who had called her. She was a youthful woman with black hair pinned up in piles of curls. She had existed before the Centuari tradition of shaving a woman’s head became popular. Her eyes were soft and cool blue, full-lipped and pale cheeked. She bore the curves and elegance of an empress and the humility of a peasant. She had once been the most beautiful woman in all of Centauri Prime but those were long years ago. Now she was merely a goddess. To Li her state had made her less than it had once been for frailty and mortality gave beauty a power to be seen and cherished before it was lost.
“Li?” the words shook but not from fear. Perhaps it was surprise.
“I have come.” She spoke with a nod of her head, both acknowledgement and the customary bow of introduction.
“Can you help me?” The woman’s voice had grown by a measure of confidence.
“I can but there will be a price.” Li did not believe in charging others for gifts but Rutarian had made it law. Li, ever directed by the whims of her will and passion, was bound by these laws because Rutarian, as the emperors of old had, feared the power her spirit contained.
“How much?”
Li paused and weighed her choices. There must be a cost but she had always strove to make the cost one that would be a benefit as well. Rutarian had caught on to her game but by his own laws he could not demand she acted otherwise.
“I have but one request.” Li stated to the woman who listened with anticipation and a bit of reserved fear. “Never take the life you have for granted. Live what you are given without the restrains of putting off what you wish until tomorrow. If you fail in this you will revert to the state you now have.”
The younger woman nodded and a small smile appeared.
“I must warn you that the process to remove the state you live in will be painful. You will endure trials as you relearn those things that come natural to a mortal; breath and food and the weakness of mortality will not be an easy lesson to learn for a second time.” Li once more paused before continuing. “I can grant you some relief from the transformation itself if you trust in me to not lead you astray.”
“I don’t have any other option.”
“There is always choice.” Li smiled “But I do not believe you would have called me if you did not trust me.”
Li leaned closer. The young woman did not pull away as a warm kiss touched her lips. She would slumber and when she woke in Li’s garden be ready to face the challenges of relearning mortality.
When the call had come late in the evening, by Earth standards, Li listened carefully. The call was a familiar one, not of a follower but of someone close to them. Passion left stray lines that connected people through the stars. The friend of a faithful follower was no more important than any other follower on a godly level but Li had once been mortal. All those mortal ideas of honoring friendships still burned brightly and guided her actions.
She appeared softly to the woman who sat, alone, in the darkness. Neither spoke a word for Li knew this woman had sensed her appearance. Still, as was common the woman spoke more to herself than the presence that had joined her.
“I don’t want this.” She said it over and over. Sometimes it was clear and determined, others broken and hushed by emotion. “This” may have seemed vague but Li understood what was in the younger woman’s heart. She was different. She was ostracized and she was cut off merely by what she was, not by whom. Li herself often felt that pang many, many lifetimes earlier. When she had first stepped into the stars as a goddess she too missed the company of mortals. She too knew what it was to miss things that were now out of her reach. Even gods had limitations. They still had things to yearn for if they had the passion inside to want. Li had nothing but passion.
“My dear.” She whispered the words gentle as the breeze and warm as the summer sun. “Tell me your troubles.”
“I want to be normal.” The woman, who was strong, now seemed a mere child, lost in her own world.
“You have great power as you are.” Li was trying to comfort away any harsh decisions. This was not the time to make them. Distressed decisions led often to regrets.
“I don’t want to live forever. I want to see the sun.”
Li would have replied but she felt something else, someone else. Tears welled in the goddess’ eyes but they were hidden in the dark. She knew too well the life shared by one condemned to the dark and one who was bound to light. It was a life the great goddess of passion knew for it was too much as her own. She was the light and he was forever chained to the dark. Over time that gulf had separated them to extents that no bridge could repair. It was pity and despair she felt for the plight of this woman.
Appearance was a rarity for Centauri gods and goddesses. They came more as feelings and understanding than physical form. However, today, Li was motivated to be seen. She appeared slowly before the one who had called her. She was a youthful woman with black hair pinned up in piles of curls. She had existed before the Centuari tradition of shaving a woman’s head became popular. Her eyes were soft and cool blue, full-lipped and pale cheeked. She bore the curves and elegance of an empress and the humility of a peasant. She had once been the most beautiful woman in all of Centauri Prime but those were long years ago. Now she was merely a goddess. To Li her state had made her less than it had once been for frailty and mortality gave beauty a power to be seen and cherished before it was lost.
“Li?” the words shook but not from fear. Perhaps it was surprise.
“I have come.” She spoke with a nod of her head, both acknowledgement and the customary bow of introduction.
“Can you help me?” The woman’s voice had grown by a measure of confidence.
“I can but there will be a price.” Li did not believe in charging others for gifts but Rutarian had made it law. Li, ever directed by the whims of her will and passion, was bound by these laws because Rutarian, as the emperors of old had, feared the power her spirit contained.
“How much?”
Li paused and weighed her choices. There must be a cost but she had always strove to make the cost one that would be a benefit as well. Rutarian had caught on to her game but by his own laws he could not demand she acted otherwise.
“I have but one request.” Li stated to the woman who listened with anticipation and a bit of reserved fear. “Never take the life you have for granted. Live what you are given without the restrains of putting off what you wish until tomorrow. If you fail in this you will revert to the state you now have.”
The younger woman nodded and a small smile appeared.
“I must warn you that the process to remove the state you live in will be painful. You will endure trials as you relearn those things that come natural to a mortal; breath and food and the weakness of mortality will not be an easy lesson to learn for a second time.” Li once more paused before continuing. “I can grant you some relief from the transformation itself if you trust in me to not lead you astray.”
“I don’t have any other option.”
“There is always choice.” Li smiled “But I do not believe you would have called me if you did not trust me.”
Li leaned closer. The young woman did not pull away as a warm kiss touched her lips. She would slumber and when she woke in Li’s garden be ready to face the challenges of relearning mortality.