A Real Goddess Would Let Nobody Die

When Menelyn made Her first appearance in the Dome of the Temple of the Sacrifice all those years ago, the people of Rokesha had been huddling in terror, in the midst of a crisis threatening extinction. They had stared at Her with uncertainty--She had been a humanoid glowing so brightly that it was uncomfortable to look at Her, Who had entered through a hole in the wall of their shelter and didn't speak their language. For Menelyn, it felt like all of those events had happened only seconds ago, like She would surely find Menelynoi in the crowd if She searched thoroughly.

Hmm. Actually, She would find her, in a way, but only in murals on that long-repaired wall.

Today, the mass of humanity packing the Dome was grateful to be alive for a very different reason. They were staring in wonder at towering displays, which hung in a ring above the Pool of Salvation and its statues, because those displays were showing a live broadcast of Menelyn's Daughter dancing and singing in a swimsuit at the beach. In many swimsuits.

Menelyn blushed.

Watching Her Daughter's performance on one of the displays, She marveled at how impactful two fingers here and one finger there and owning it were to Kennalaria's overall impression, ultraviolet effects aside. Kennalaria was only bigger than Her Mother to the extent that Menelyn's old tunic was a bit snug on Her. She was still more petite than even Izenakee. But even so...Menelyn Herself had only ever been cute, too child-like to be truly alluring like Izena, and She couldn't help fantasizing: If She hadn't spent the first five years of Her life starving, and most of the rest of Her youth on military rations that She often gave away, and if She had a little of Izena's charisma, would She look like that?!

Her blush deepened, and Her heart fluttered. Maybe...maybe it was for the best.

"Yeah," Izena sighed, agreeing with the blush and flutter. "Just...yeah."

Menelyn nodded. She knew what Her Sister meant. "Everyone thinks She's the Goddess of Beauty because She is."

"Yeah."

When the current song ended, Izena spoke again.

"You pick Your little girl up from the hospital, turn around for a second, and before You know it, seven centuries have passed, and She has turned into some dazzling knockout Who refuses to let You braid Her hair anymore," She lamented. "What happened?!"

Menelyn giggled. "Our little Kenna has grown too powerful! Behold! Beauty Herself freezes time with but a glance!"

In truth, the Goddess of Time needed to be touching a person to work that particular magic...but maybe not anymore, judging by the state of today's audience.

"They will ask to change Her statues," Izena predicted. She sounded resigned. "Think We can move the old ones to Our rooms, after, instead of Benevin?"

Menelyn didn't answer, because Kennalaria's next song had started.

Serenity? Ha! Joy had Salvation bouncing on Her toes.

"Buh dut tut TAH duh dut dut duhhhh!" Menelyn sang along, under Her breath.

Kennalaria twirled on the ball of one foot, then hopped and landed into an opposite twirl on the ball of the other foot, smirk and finger wag on takeoff transitioning into a shrug and wink on landing, all without interrupting the song.

Menelyn's arms flew into the air. Everyone else was still frozen.

"Oh, I could never!" She gushed. "She's always been such an incredible dancer! So balanced, and graceful, an-and athletic! Oh! It's all so light and effortless. She's just like You were!"

Izena was silent. Brooding? That was odd. She should have said something smug about the evident greatness of Kennalaria's dance instructor, and Menelyn had been bracing for some teasing comment about how Kennalaria must have been tutored personally by the Goddess of Song or something.

Instead, Izena eventually sighed again.

"Her hair, too," She muttered, half to Herself.

Menelyn frowned, stopped bouncing, and studied Kennalaria. She got the feeling that Izena meant something deeper than 'Her hair is really pretty like Mine was.'

Kennalaria's hair was otherworldly, so gossamer that it had been blown horizontal ever since She appeared, while rippling so lazily that it betrayed how weak the breeze actually was. She spun again, not leaving the ground this time, and Her hair rippled in slow motion behind--

Menelyn was blasted with a torrent of nostalgia so nauseatingly intense that She had no idea how She hadn't noticed before.

"No matter how She twirls..." Menelyn whispered. "...Always trails behind Her, like a little cape..."

She had been so blind, blinded by Her Own preconceptions. Why look for Izena's traits in Her doppelgänger?

No! Menelyn's body had been Their body for a very, very long time. Menelyn's mana had been Izena's, and Izena's Hers, for just as long. Izena was no visiting guest! This body was as much Hers as Menelyn's! How could She have forgotten?! If Menelyn had a doppelgänger, so did Izena!

"Our pools are linked," Menelyn whispered. "Our imprints are fused. Two minds in one mind."

She resisted the urge to collapse to the ground and grasp Their head in Their hands. The Goddesses of Justice and Salvation doing something so dramatic might upstage Kennalaria's big day.

"I missed it, too. She pointed it out to Me a few months ago," Izena confessed, quietly. "I thought it over, Her hair, and realized why We never noticed: She only started wearing it loose after transforming. Before that, I braided Her hair every day since She moved in, except occasionally when She wanted to resemble You, or when Izenakee did it. Maybe it is a coincidence. Maybe all the other similarities are from some combination of coincidence and how I helped raise Her. But, I have decided just now that it does not matter. I am sorry that You were blindsided at such awkward timing. Watch Our Daughter for now, talk later."

Menelyn floated through the rest of the performance. Good thing She was immortal. This amount of syrup was surely an overdose.

No wonder Kennalaria had been so happy to adopt a little Sister. And so frustrated that She couldn't take Her away to someplace happier.

----

As the Sun set behind the ridge, Twilight waved goodbye to Her lingering audience, made a call, and jumped into the Rokesha Sanctuary's common room.

"Welcome home, Star Temple," Izzie greeted Her. "Enjoy Your show? We watched the whole thing!"

"It was even better than I imagined!" She gushed. "I felt like Me! I mean, look!"

She twirled, still wearing one of Her more popular designs.

"When I was drafting My introduction, for My deification, I really had to think about what I wanted to claim. Really search, find something that made sense and, and felt true to Me." She spun again. This exhilaration had to go somewhere. "Not anymore! I really am the Goddess of Beauty! It feels completely right in a way that nothing ever has before!"

She changed the design She was wearing a few times, reliving the day.

"Not sure if I could have walked out and claimed that one originally, though," She admitted, thinking back on Her deification.

Her Mother's eyes--Izzie's eyes?--were a little glassy, so She jumped over and leaned against Them on the sofa.

"Good. We are glad," Izzie wheezed, then cleared Their throat. "Before We get to the dusk spells, We have a couple things to say."

"But We want to hear everything else, once Izenakee is here!" Her Mother added.

"Mhm! What's up?"

"First, We have a message to pass along from the Temples," Izzie said. "They are hoping that You would be willing to pose for some other images and murals. In particular, they want some complete family portraits, all of Us in mana clothing, and also, potentially some of You at sites of religious importance, especially in other cities. As far as We can tell, they do not see Your swimsuit wardrobe as the least bit lewd, and will not view it as juxtaposed with Our clothing, or as inappropriate at religious sites. Instead, they see it as the 'truest form'--their words--of the fully incarnated Goddess of Beauty. And yes, both of Us think this is hilarious, but also bizarrely understandable."

"I wouldn't say hilarious," Her Mother corrected. "Just...amusing? Amusing that it's simultaneously so ridiculous--a Goddess wearing a swimsuit in formal portraits of Her Divine Family!?--yet also so understandable. I do believe that their enthusiasm is largely innocent. You're the first new Goddess wearing Her Own Essence in many millennia. You just happen to be the Goddess of Beauty, and...mmm...'Behold!'"

Grinning, She turned to sweep Her hands across Twilight, next to Her on the sofa.

"...is exactly what the Goddess of Beauty ought to be like, they think. Plus, if We approve, then those outfits must be fine, axiomatically--proper divine attire, for You. That's all there is to it."

Twilight was beaming. This was the best case scenario!

"That's fantastic! I'd love to! I did mean what I said: I would be thrilled to wear My mana in any circumstances that aren't scandalous!"

They turned to kiss Her cheek.

"We know," Her Mother said, then She looked at Her right hand next to Twilight's left, on Their respective knees. They were near mirrors, except Twilight's nails were very sparkly, and Her Mother's glow was overpowering-yet-not.

"Want to try painting Our nails, Izena?" She proposed. "My mana may not contrast very well, since We glow so brightly already, but I feel like Your black would look really cool."

Instead of answering aloud, Izzie just did it.

"Huh!" Izzie sounded pleased. "Why did We never try this?!"

"Hmm...We had only ever seen jewelry and embroidery, so that's what came to mind, and We got stuck in Our ways, I guess." Twilight's Mother seemed awed, as She admired Their hands. "It makes Me feel...powerful!"

Twilight giggled. She knew exactly what Her Mother meant, but still: An omnipotent dual-Goddess 'felt powerful' because She painted Her nails black!?

To be fair, that 'nail paint' was the Divine Essence of Destruction. Dripping off Their body, out of Izzie's control, it would fall through steel like nothing was there. Because nothing would be. Not anymore.

"Suri will hyperventilate if She sees that," Twilight pointed out.

Her Mother looked up, then turned toward Her. "You...Do You think She'll blush?!" She asked urgently. This was serious business.

Twilight nodded, grinning.

She rubbed Their black-nailed hands together, cackling in glee.

"Yesssssss!" Her Mother squealed. "Oh, how do We do it, Izena?! Do We show up like this, and wait until She notices?! Or paint them in front of Her?!"

Izzie considered.

"I think We should show up already painted, and let Her wonder for a bit," She decided. "Then, slip in a casual comment about how nail painting has been growing more popular, recently, on Our Garden, since We three picked up the habit."

"Ohhhh!" Twilight's Mother squealed again, then She gasped. "I wonder if Izenakee will do it with Us!"

The pixie sitting next to Twilight, hands clenched into fists, was the most adorable schemer Who had ever lived.

Twilight's grin became a smirk. Welcome to the family, little Sister!

"So, what else do You have for Me?" She asked.

"The Temples also made an unprecedented proposal," Izzie replied. "They suggest modifying Your statues. At the very least, they want to make Your hair and eyes sparkly."

"Let Me guess," Twilight chimed. "They also suggested depicting Me in one of My swimsuits?"

Izzie snickered.

"I did warn You that You would leave a strong impression," She confirmed, as amused at the whole affair as She had promised to be. "They made a variety of proposals. Their favorites are You sitting on the edge of the Pool, in the same pose as when You were first waiting for people at the end, or above the Pool in the middle of a leaping twirl. As a middle ground, they also proposed keeping something very similar to Your current statue, but unbraiding Your hair."

This one, Twilight needed to think about. She stared at Her lap for a while, then collected Her hair, pulled it over Her shoulder, and tugged at it absentmindedly, as if it were in the statue's braid. As much as She loved Her new form...

"My parents came to My deification with that statue hanging above the Pool, believing it would be there forever," She said at last. "The Temples can make My hair and eyes sparkly. I would like that. But, I want the statue to stay immediately recognizable, otherwise still the same as it has always been. Also, that braid...I know I've preferred to wear My hair loose recently, but..." She wrapped an arm around Her sofa-mate. "I grew up getting braids like that one, every morning. That braid, and what it represents, is precious to Me."

This answer had surprised Them.

"Thank You," Twilight told Them, once again. "Want to do one now, for old times' sake? Even though it's dusk? I'm sure Keekee won't mind if We do My spell before We go to Her."

Having foreseen the reply, She started moving to the usual chair.

"Yes." Izzie's voice cracked.

All of these chairs, one in every Sanctuary common room, glowed much like the Incorruptible Altar. Soon after Twilight sat down, She was enveloped by Her Mother's glow, and Izzie started combing Her hair.

Twilight was in Her eighth century of twice-daily injections of euphoria straight from the Goddess of Life, delivered while Her hair was combed with Holy Light by the Goddess of Justice, then braided by Her. Usually, the Goddess of Love would be in the room, too, radiating fuzzies while giggling half-deliriously. Sometimes also sacred fluffy birds, who would gather to bask in the glow of the spell, but they were all in the Dome right now.

Twilight was asked occasionally how She was so joyful all the time--How did She not burn out, despite Her cycle of life being so repetitive?--as if every day being the same fabulous one, punctuated with occasional ultra-fabulous ones like today, meant Her existence was some kind of unpleasant grind.

That said, it was true that the hours of mind-wiping self-torture starting after the dusk spells weren't the best, but it amounted to an hours-long cuddling period, so it wasn't too bad.

On that note, every minute She delayed starting today's session was another minute Their help would be delayed. Time to get a move on.

"Is now a good time for the second thing?" She asked.

"Great time," Izzie rasped. "Best time."

It was a little strange, the last few days. Izzie wasn't normally the weepy One.

Then Twilight saw what was coming, and it all made sense.

"So, a few months ago, You suggested to Me that 'the template from which You were born' may not have been purely Menelyn's. Yes, You look like Menelyn's twin, but since I am also in Menelyn's body, You are also My twin. Yes, You seem to have inherited many things from Menelyn, but it is also easy to find things that could be inherited from Me. You sing like Menelyn; You dance like I did. You have a fetish for My magic, but enjoy the spotlight of a performance just as much, maybe more. You know as well as I how long the list is. Inheriting these traits from Us is not necessarily the only possible way to have them. And, many could be acquired from nurture rather than nature. Most importantly, You are Your Own person. But, We all agree: the number of similarities is eerie, and in the context of the appearance You were born with, highly suggestive. You descend from Us, both of Us, in much the same way that a daughter descends from her parents, but far, far more profoundly."

Twilight's face was scrunched up. She nodded. She was Her Own person, Her Own unique recipe, but She didn't come from nothing. Her recipe had ingredients: a dying mortal body, Divine Essence, and a lot of love.

"I felt awkward, at the time," Izzie continued, "and could not respond adequately, for four reasons."

Normally, She would hold up fingers as She went through Her list, but She had moved on from combing to braiding.

"I did not know what the difference was between being a big Sister and a Mother, whether You might want Our relationship to change and how, and if I would be able to change. The idea of having a Daughter with Menelyn was strange. I felt embarrassed that I had not noticed or considered the possibility for such a long time, and that I had always thought of Myself as something of a third wheel. Finally, I was genuinely unsure if it might only be some combination of coincidence and nurture that had produced any apparent similarities."

Twilight had a lot to say to that, but She could see that it wasn't time, yet, and She didn't need to, anyway.

"Since then, I have been thinking, and I have realized that Menelyn had it all figured out more than seven hundred years ago: The words and labels do not matter. We are immortal Goddesses; why would Our family match normal patterns? All that matters is the feeling, and I have always known what the feeling is. You are My Star Temple, a gift so extravagant and perfect that not even a Goddess could imagine or hope to receive anything more precious. And, if I consider everything objectively, and try to find the normal word that fits best, that feeling is more like how mothers tend to view their daughters than how big sisters tend to view their little sisters. It is up to You what You want to call Me, and how You want to think of Me. How I feel will not change, and how I treat You will not change. You will always be My Star Temple."

Neither the braid nor the spell were done yet, but Twilight's Mothers leaned over to hug Her from behind. It was Her time to speak, now.

"When I mistakenly believed that I only inherited from Mennie, there was a significant difference in how I felt. That sense of knowing My source was and is very powerful. But by the time You were talking to Me a few days ago about...being the Goddess of Beauty, and all that, I really didn't feel a difference anymore. Even at 741, I rely on both of You like any daughter relies on her parents. I still think of You as Izzie and attach the label 'big Sister' to You in My mind, but the label is arbitrary and it's only inertia, centuries of habit. I don't know how I will do things linguistically, but I can say something with absolute certainty: I come from the Goddess behind Me, more than anyone else. She made Me, made Me Who I am, more than anyone else. Kenna the mortal girl lives on in Me, and she had parents--I will always remember them, be grateful to them, and love them--but the Goddess Who made Me is My Mother. That Goddess just so happens to be a fusion of two Sister Goddesses. That was the price those Sisters paid, the grand miracle They achieved, to create this world that made Me and My life possible. That still makes Me and My life possible, twice every day."

She smiled.

"It makes sense, You know. It takes Day and Night together to make Twilight possible."

It was a good thing that white magic at this strength cleaned tears and snot immediately. Mothers are such crybabies.

"So, thank You."

Twilight had never forgotten, and She would never forget.

"Pretty sure Keekee is actually My Sister, though. Should We go to Her, or finish My braid first?"