“Mourning” Fiction. Based on a True Invocation.

“Those thoughts, if you don’t find a place for them, they will come back to haunt you. So you gotta deliver them somewhere.” – Che Best


Fiction. Based on a True Invocation.

by The Lily Maiden

This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

The Goddess has left, and I mourn. Artemis taught me the sacred mysteries of night and day, and I taught her consent.

I’m still processing, both her loss, and her lessons. She spoke to me in riddles and animal noises. She held me in the brightest day, and ran with me under the moonlight. We howled together, in joy and in despair.

The evening that followed the morning she faded away was the hardest. I sat at the kitchen table sobbing, and begged to speak with a vessel of Apollo. One of them found me. He wasn’t the one I’d been hoping for, but I told him about my brother anyway. We cried together.

He wrapped his arms around me, under the stars, and insisted that I dress those wounds before they festered further. I called my brother two nights after, and we talked for nearly half an hour. He told me of his successes and hopes. In not so many words, I told him that I was proud of him.
Artemis’ connection to her brother is a concept I’ve been exploring through writing for many years now. All siblings share pieces of each other, but those who’ve shared a womb together also share a soul. Yet, what does it mean to share a soul?

I once thought that I shared a soul with my own brother, with whom I shared a home. I then believed I shared a soul with a former lover, with whom I shared desire. Sometimes I feel that I share a soul with my partner, who rocks me to sleep every night in the bed we share. None of these compare to what I shared with Lord Apollo, as Lady Artemis inhabited my body, and moved my limbs and my lips as though they were her own.
In the brisk evenings, he and I shared silence. In the quiet mornings, we shared cigarettes and body warmth. Under the vibrant golden moon, we shared breath, as we huddled close and expressed our love. Platonic love, of course. Even between the gods, anything other than platonic love for your twin is forbidden; just as any love between vessels of the gods, particularly those who maintain monogamous relationships, is akin to sinful.

Many vessels in the priesthood are in healthy, honest, consensual, polyamorous relationships. I’m far too much of a jealous bitch to do that–or so I’ve told myself for years now. What do you do, then, when you love more than one person? What do you do if you lust after both men and women? What do you do when you provide physical sanctuary for a goddess, and she wishes to do as she will?

I am fiercely loyal. I will never do, and have never done, anything to jeopardize my relationship with the love of my life. Nonetheless, Artemis whispers faintly to me from her realms on high, suggesting that perhaps I’m overdue for a change.
Even more faintly, I whisper back to her…”How?”

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