Voroni. If her best days had been as a novice in the Scarlet Temple, she would seek them again, she vowed. If there was no actual temple to the Goddess of Love and Beauty here, she would contrive to build one. If there was any way her talents and abilities could rescue the town that she fell in love with Lenguin in, she felt compelled to use them. She would invoke the goddess, herself, and give herself over in any way her patroness chose. Body and soul.
It was time, she decided that fateful day, to invite the goddess Ishi to come to Vorone.
The Goddess In The Garden
As the last words of the ritual faded in the night’s air, and the last tendrils of smoke arose from the censor, Ishi looked down at the hands – her hands, now - still dainty and feminine, but wrinkled and spotted despite the best creams the apothecaries could make – with her new eyes. Age, beauty’s tireless nemesis.
“A glass!” Ishi demanded to no one in particular. “Bring me a glass!”
The bucktoothed servant girl startled at her mistress’s sudden change in tone, but hurried to bring the old gilded brass looking glass to her. Ishi regarded herself in the imperfect surface. Like the face and body she now inhabited, the mirror looked fine and ornate from a distance, but once you got close enough its age was easily revealed.
“This . . . is barely adequate,” she muttered to herself. The Baroness was beautiful, for her age, but despite the care and attention she paid to herself, the climate and conditions conspired against her. The hair was exquisite, treated with herbs, brushed, and washed regularly. The body was well cared-for, she had to admit – strong, vibrant, humming with desire – but she had to do something about that face. Those . . . imperfections.
She was the goddess of feminine beauty, after all. Ishi concentrated a moment and filled her vessel with divine grace, directing it to achieve her goal. When she returned to regard herself in the glass she had been transformed.
It was no maiden who stared back at her, to be sure. But the face she beheld was smooth and clear, now, with the rich, healthy glow of youth. The eyes were clear and blue, sparkling like mountain streams in the morning light. Gone was the hint of despair and loss the Baroness’ worn face had carried for years. A beautiful woman first, her maturity and bearing was now a complement to that beauty, not a detriment to it. The marks of age on her hands were gone. Her hair was even more luxurious, and now fell over her shoulders with enchanting grace.
“ Much better,” Ishi said, satisfied. “We’ll contend with the wardrobe later, I suppose. You, girl – your name?”
“Lespeth, Mum! But you know that, don’t you?” she asked, her mouth open unattractively.
Ishi sighed. “I have a lot of work to do here. Lespeth, I bear joyous news. Your mistress’s ritual was a success. She has invited me to occupy her body as my vessel. She has been chosen as Ishi’s earthly avatar, here and now.”
“ Ishi . . . Mum?” Her eyes went wide with awe and wonder, and her jaw dropped.
“Oh, close your mouth, girl, you make me think of rabbits!” Ishi said, testily. “Yes, I – your mistress, the Baroness Amandice – invoked me by holy rite, known only to my priestesses. She has been chosen to bear the spirit of Ishi, the goddess of love, lust, beauty . . . I believe you are acquainted with the lore. Be not afraid. I am merely borrowing her, for a while, and will leave her enriched when I depart. Like borrowing a friend’s jewelry or a gown for a few nights,” she explained.
“Aye, Mum . . .Your Highness . . . Goddess . . . oh, whatever shall I call you?” the girl asked in confusion.
“Treat me as you always have, for now. It will take us both some time to get used to this, several days, at least, before I will be ready to go among the mortals. My true
It was time, she decided that fateful day, to invite the goddess Ishi to come to Vorone.
The Goddess In The Garden
As the last words of the ritual faded in the night’s air, and the last tendrils of smoke arose from the censor, Ishi looked down at the hands – her hands, now - still dainty and feminine, but wrinkled and spotted despite the best creams the apothecaries could make – with her new eyes. Age, beauty’s tireless nemesis.
“A glass!” Ishi demanded to no one in particular. “Bring me a glass!”
The bucktoothed servant girl startled at her mistress’s sudden change in tone, but hurried to bring the old gilded brass looking glass to her. Ishi regarded herself in the imperfect surface. Like the face and body she now inhabited, the mirror looked fine and ornate from a distance, but once you got close enough its age was easily revealed.
“This . . . is barely adequate,” she muttered to herself. The Baroness was beautiful, for her age, but despite the care and attention she paid to herself, the climate and conditions conspired against her. The hair was exquisite, treated with herbs, brushed, and washed regularly. The body was well cared-for, she had to admit – strong, vibrant, humming with desire – but she had to do something about that face. Those . . . imperfections.
She was the goddess of feminine beauty, after all. Ishi concentrated a moment and filled her vessel with divine grace, directing it to achieve her goal. When she returned to regard herself in the glass she had been transformed.
It was no maiden who stared back at her, to be sure. But the face she beheld was smooth and clear, now, with the rich, healthy glow of youth. The eyes were clear and blue, sparkling like mountain streams in the morning light. Gone was the hint of despair and loss the Baroness’ worn face had carried for years. A beautiful woman first, her maturity and bearing was now a complement to that beauty, not a detriment to it. The marks of age on her hands were gone. Her hair was even more luxurious, and now fell over her shoulders with enchanting grace.
“ Much better,” Ishi said, satisfied. “We’ll contend with the wardrobe later, I suppose. You, girl – your name?”
“Lespeth, Mum! But you know that, don’t you?” she asked, her mouth open unattractively.
Ishi sighed. “I have a lot of work to do here. Lespeth, I bear joyous news. Your mistress’s ritual was a success. She has invited me to occupy her body as my vessel. She has been chosen as Ishi’s earthly avatar, here and now.”
“ Ishi . . . Mum?” Her eyes went wide with awe and wonder, and her jaw dropped.
“Oh, close your mouth, girl, you make me think of rabbits!” Ishi said, testily. “Yes, I – your mistress, the Baroness Amandice – invoked me by holy rite, known only to my priestesses. She has been chosen to bear the spirit of Ishi, the goddess of love, lust, beauty . . . I believe you are acquainted with the lore. Be not afraid. I am merely borrowing her, for a while, and will leave her enriched when I depart. Like borrowing a friend’s jewelry or a gown for a few nights,” she explained.
“Aye, Mum . . .Your Highness . . . Goddess . . . oh, whatever shall I call you?” the girl asked in confusion.
“Treat me as you always have, for now. It will take us both some time to get used to this, several days, at least, before I will be ready to go among the mortals. My true
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