Love Hurts ((ON HOLD))

Chapter IX

The temple to Ourania was one of the most revered and decorated places of worship Malisa had ever seen, and though she had seen few, she could tell the goddess' followers were devout. The marble columns looked gilded in their own torchlight, which illuminated the entire circumference of the temple as if night's darkness could not touch it.

No one else was near as they approached, but her mother made certain to walk around the entire temple once before she entered as if to take extra care for whatever they were going to ask of the goddess.

Within the temple was as well-lit as without, though there were no walls save for the one which protected the golden effigy of Ourania herself at the rear of the structure. It was there Malisa's mother headed without hesitation, and Malisa had no choice but to follow.

At the foot of the last statue were offerings of all types— fruits and nuts, coins and scarves and pottery and...

"Wine?" Malisa asked as she watched her mother pop open the bottle she pulled from her satchel and began filling two gold-plated goblets.

"If one wants to commune with the goddess, one needs to know how to get the goddess' attention."

If nothing else, her mother had her complete attention. Malisa watched as Anyma split the bottle between the two cups, leaving the empty bottle on the altar next to one of them as she took the other and stood. Raising the cup in her hand towards the sightless idol, her mother intoned her voice in what sounded like both praise and a summoning.

"It's been too long, and too many empty bottles between us."

The torches in the temple flickered, almost snuffing out by an unexpected wind that whipped through the columns. Malisa brushed her hair from her face and no sooner did the surrounding area darken than did it once again ignite, but this time brighter than before.

"You always knew my favorite vintage."

Malisa whipped back towards the statue at the sound of the unfamiliar and unexpected voice. Sitting at the base of the statue was a woman, or at least the shadow of a woman, if a shadow could glimmer like the sunlight on gentle waves. It was like a statue had come to life possessed by a phantom caught between the ethereal planes. This phantom, however, was able to pick up the gold cup her mother had laid out— pick up and drink from it.

"I'd been holding onto it," Anyma said towards the glimmering shadow.

"Then you must truly need my help if you've gone to such lengths to not only return, but bring such a tithe."

With a sigh and an almost reluctant manner, her mother motioned for Malisa to approach. Still uncertain as to what was happening, Malisa moved next to her mother and in turn, had a better view of the glimmering shadow.

Even in the torchlight, even if immaterial, there was no mistaking who was sitting beneath the statue engaging in casual conversation.

Ourania.

"It's impolite to stare, girl," the goddess murmured as she took another sip from the offered wine.

"My Lady, this is my daughter. Malisa."

"I'm aware of who she is." The shadow gave them a sly smirk. "Do you think I do not know what you and my son did beneath my temple roof?"

Malisa glanced at her mother out of the corner of her eye, trying her best to withhold the combination of shock and disgust while her mother pursed her lips, the muscles of her jaw feathering.

"Then you know why I am here," Anyma finally replied, cooler than Malisa would have expected.

The Goddess feigned disinterest, swirling the wine in her goblet instead of looking at either of them. "It seems my son is unhappy with you, mortal. And you're finally realizing the extent of his dissatisfaction."