Time continues onward, no matter how man tries to alter, to change, and to shape it. The sands of the desert, like the sea, fluctuate and move onward to different lands and different places. Such is the fate of the world. Time is set in stone, and with it comes change for better or worse. Thus, the Priestess of Lumenari began her travels across the land and asked the High One for her blessings as she took rest in her most beloved land. In the desert is where her saving grace touches the world and reflects in every grain of sand. Here, could she take rest and reflect upon her ministry and the words of the Great Mother. As a priestess it was her duty to be in constant contact with the Great Mother Sun and spread her words to those blinded to her graces.
So she settled in a small cave in the middle of the Moraki desert. She had brought very little with her, only enough that could fit in the small linen pack she carried on her shoulder. It had enough water to last her, sparingly, for a week; along with a single change of clothes. She wasn’t worried about food, because the Great Mother would provide for her, and provide she did. The cave was a ten minute walk from a small desert oasis that was filled with fruit and a small lake of fresh spring water from underwater springs traveling throughout the desert. Her clothes were the perfect fit for living in the desert. As a High Priestess she wore only white and it was made from a sun-bleached fabric that was formed to fit only her. Sleeveless and immaculately white, the dress brushed the tops of her sandaled feet and was accented only by a gold chain that hung around her neck and ended in a pendant that looked like a drop of liquid fire. This necklace, along with the small circlet of gold that graced her forehead and wove through her white hair, marked her for her station. A High Priestess of the Lumenari.
Today, however, she dropped some of the formalities and let the circlet rest on her blankets while she pulled her snow-white hair into a quick plait around her head before she began her daily trek to the small oasis. She had a small basket of ferns that she had woven to collect fruit, and the linen bag with empty containers that she would fill with water. She had learned the hard way weeks before that doing the work with her priestess accents made the work much more difficult. The amulet she did not remove, but tucked it neatly into her dress, which she tied up around her knees to keep sand from weighing it down and making the work that much more difficult.
If she could choose, she would have left the desert weeks before, but every night when she gazed into the flames, the Great Mother’s words were always the same. Stay my daughter, stay. Your time is yet to come. She did not know what it meant, or when her time would come, but the vision was always the same: a shadow on the horizon, blotting out the Great Mother. Of this, she was waiting. That much was sure. Yet, as much as she knew she must trust Her voice, she felt that all of the waiting was becoming excessive. She was ready to move on. How long had it been? Weeks? Months? She had lost count. But she constantly reminded herself that She worked in ways that even Her High Priestess may not be able to fully understand…
“High Priestess….� she murmured a she sat beside the small lake, letting the sun wash over her. Its rays were like caressing hands, holding her to Her bosom in a loving Mother’s embrace. This was why she waited. Oinnanai trusted Her with her heart, soul, and mind. Whatever she was waiting for, it was important enough that She was calling upon her High Priestess herself.
Collect your friend, daughter Her words were clear in Oinnanai’s mind, Collect your fruit and then bathe. Wash away your doubt
Kneeling, Oinnanai took a drink from the lake, silently thanking Her for the gift of life before dipping the canteens into the cool, clear water. When that was finished, she began the tedious task of climbing the fruit trees and tossing the contents into the basket positioned below. She had made a sort of game out of it, trying to aim the sweet, desert fruit into the basket itself. She had become rather good with her aim and soon had a full basket. Climbing down, she placed her baggage against the tree’s trunk before slipping her light, white dress over her head and draping it across a branch before stepping into the lake and rinsing off the cares of the weeks. Sand and dirt was removed from her skin, leaving it pearly and clean, the sun kissing every nook and cranny and cleansing her of her doubts and fears. Her mind was cleared, and Oinnanai stepped from the crystal waters and pulled her dress over her head again, not minding that the fabric was getting wet. It was nicer to walk back with the cool, damp cloth clinging to the skin. Her hair she plaited once more, and then grabbed her bags before beginning the hike back to her small, shaded cave.
*****
Night fell swiftly in the desert, and in due respect, each night Oinnanai stood watch as the great, golden orb faded from the horizon. Secretly, she loved these times for Great Mother always left with a lasting impression. Through her majesty and goodness, she filled the sky with unimaginable colors that were like a motif painted across the clear sky. Tonight, the display was particularly beautiful as purples, oranges, and greens twisted together to create a beautiful masterpiece that etched itself in her mind. She watched the orb disappear behind the earth, it’s clear glow reflected in her own golden eyes.
She stood, unmoving, barely even blinking as the sunset enveloped the earth. The circlet was once again around her forehead, and her hair curled lightly down her back, entwined in the golden band while the fire drop amulet glittered against her chest. As the last rays of the sun disappeared from the world, Oinnanai knelt in the sand and pressed her forehead to the ground in a sign of most sincere reverence.
Then she was in a world of night.
Standing, she made her way blindly to the pile of wood she had collected earlier and knelt beside it. Yet, she did not strike a match, nor flint and steal. Instead, she stared at the dry wood and muttered in a strange tongue, her hands outstretched before the wood. Her golden eyes began glowing in the darkness and the stone around her neck began to flicker and pulse. With a final breath of chant, the light of her eyes and the stone merged and flared into a fire that engulfed the wood.
With a silent intake of air, Oinnanai bowed once again to the flames, acknowledging Her gift, before staring into its depths and falling into a trance. This time, the answer was different.
Soon, daughter. Wake and be ready.