Chapter 72. Lyssa's Invocation

ister Lemony fussed over her vestments.  Did the Stole of Forgiveness go over the Cassock of Twilight?  She could never remember and the resident priestess of Dwayna was not being particularly helpful.

“Purple is not a wedding color,” the woman said, scandalized as she bustled around the little vestry trying to hurry things along, “White or gold, Sister, the colors of dawn.”

“But I like purple,” Lemony sighed as she let the woman strip off the over-large robe and help her shrug into a heavy gold brocade gown.

“The green one is nice.  I like the sequins,” Lemony mused aloud as Priestess Amandi thrust the embroidered handle of the censer into her left hand.

“Don’t tip that or the incense will fall out and burn you,” the woman tutted as Lemony lifted the thing up to have a closer look, “That’s all I need is for you to burn up my wardrobe.”

Lemony grinned.  This was so exciting.  The day she had waited for was finally here and she could hardly wait to see her two most beloved friends standing before her while she recited the vows.  Come to think of it, where was that scroll with the vows on it?  Drat, it was still in her room.  She would have to improvise.

“They’re waiting,” came Shikai’s voice as the woman poked her head into the vestry.  Today she was not blindfolded, but garbed in solemn sky blue silk, her dark eyes lined with kohl and gleaming like gems.  A shame she kept them hidden all the time, Lemony decided.

“Sister Lemony, would you please put down the Staff of Divine Retribution?” Priestess Amandi groaned.

“Oh, sorry.”

“We’re ready, Shikai, I’ll get her moving if I have to strap wheels to her feet and give her a push.”

What a novel idea. She would have to try that one day.  She giggled helplessly as the priestess pressed the Golden Scepter of Blessings into Lemony’s right hand and pulled her out into the corridor and toward the small chapel.  A trail of fragrant incense streamed from the censer in her wake.

Everything was fine until she was thrust into the aisle and saw close to a hundred faces turn to look expectantly upon her.  Lemony froze on the spot.  That was why she had failed as a priestess.  She had stage fright.  Bad.

“Erm,” she coughed, her knees beginning to tremble.

“Sister, they’re waiting,” Amandi hissed, pushing on Lemony’s shoulder to no avail.  Sister Lemony was now playing the role of a damp bag of sand.

“You spoke to the gods, Sister,” Pendaran said into her mind, “mere mortals cannot hold a candle to that.”

She gazed up to the altar and saw him sitting to its right poised to play a beautiful golden harp to begin the invocation to Lyssa.

“I suppose I did,” she laughed, nodding at him, “You can start the invocation now, I’ll be alright.”

She smiled to herself as the lucid tones of the harp filled the little temple and Pendaran’s sad sweet tenor took up the words.

“Behold, I am the mystery of life,
Masked in splendor, clothed in light.
Beauty in all things to eyes that see.
I am the silver crest of the breaking wave,
The errant gull far out to sea,
I am the wind’s sweet song in leaf and tree,
Bathed in dabbled light.
I am the eternal flame of life
In the hearth of the soul.
I am of the earth and the abundant womb,

I am the laughter of children at dawn
And the perfect sorrow of loss.
I am of innocence forged and by life remade.

In the dance I am born.
In seeking I am found,
In music I am heard,
Unto those who call to me,
Look to love and there I’ll be.”

Sister Lemony grinned widely as she marched up to the altar.  It was good to be right. Everything had worked out for the best.

                                                    ~ the end ~